#and he already had a drinking problem. at sixteen. so you can imagine how i felt about that.

[saturnsfather]

yknow. if i had a nickel for every time i had a huge crush on someone, never did anything about it, then reconnected with them several years later only to be told that they Also Had Feelings For Me or Currently Have Feelings For Me, except because of the time distance or other factors i/we cant/wont do anything about it and then i pretty much never see them again, id have two nickels. which isnt a lot, but it sure did happen twice.

#tbd #just. reflecting #man. remember being a Kid. #funny enough neither guy was someone i cried over! i DID cry over a boy in middle school because i couldnt work up the nerve to ask him #to dance with me. which in retrospect is so silly. i did also still think i was a girl back then too #but anyway. first guy didnt work out bc by the time he told me he liked me #which by the way was WILD bc he basically admitted that the very distinct memory i have as a turning point in our relationship #where we actually became friends. was ALSO the moment he REALIZED HE HAD FEELINGS FOR ME. and it just never came up. lmao #but by then id been over him for a few years. and then i ghosted him. #second guy i reconnected with in high school and he got a girlfriend partway through that year. #but he had a car and occasionally gave me rides home from school. and on one of them we started talking #about the summer camp we originally met at. and i told him id had a huge crush on him back then #(fully equipped with the knowledge that i still did kind of have one) #and thats when he told me ‘haha woah really?? i had feelings for you too. thats crazy’ #and then we never talked about it again. #to be fair it probably never would have worked with us anyway because i have I Could Fix Him disease #and always have. #and he already had a drinking problem. at sixteen. so you can imagine how i felt about that. #anyway. all this is to say. #if it happens again im gonna k!ll myself lol #thats a joke. i will not. but i will be So fucking mad

[simlit]

Chosen of the Sun | | dawn // sixteen

| @amuhav | @catamano

next / previous / beginning

EIRA: Hey. TAYUIN: Hey. EIRA: Drink. TAYUIN: I’m not thirsty. EIRA: Aster can be an idiot, but he was right about one thing: You need to loosen up. TAYUIN: Isn’t it a bit ironic you saying that? EIRA: Why do you think I’m here? You should be flattered I even thought to share. TAYUIN: I am a bit, yeah. EIRA: Good. So. You wanna talk about it or something? TAYUIN: Not really. EIRA: Let me rephrase that: Talk. TAYUIN: What’s to talk about? I have no reason for being here. Even if I win now, I can never be Chosen of the Sun. Maybe it’s not such a great feeling to know that even the gods can’t fix me. Not that I ever thought they could. EIRA: So, all of that means you can’t enjoy a night out? To be honest, I expected you to be the type to lose yourself in shallow bullshit, if just to distract yourself from the truth. TAYUIN: Maybe I was like that. Before. EIRA: Before? TAYUIN: When I was back home. When I had nowhere to run. Sure, enough wine can make you forget things for a night. It doesn’t change anything. EIRA: No, it doesn’t change anything. EIRA: Is it true what the witch said? You’re a prince? TAYUIN: I was. It doesn’t matter now. EIRA: You ran away? TAYUIN: There wasn’t much else to do. EIRA: Must have been the pits, then. If it was so bad you wanted to leave. I always imagined homes and families were the kinds of things people fought to keep. Not that I’d know. I never had that choice. TAYUIN: Your parents are…? EIRA: Dead? No idea. I was barely one day old when they decided I wasn’t worth keeping. So, I imagine they aren’t worth knowing. Maybe if I’d grown up with them, I’d have been like you and run away in the end, too. Then it all would have ended up exactly the way it did. Suppose some people just aren’t meant to have children. TAYUIN: You… might be right. EIRA: You should tell him, you know. TAYUIN: Him? EIRA: The priest. You should tell him what happened with the witch. TAYUIN: What good will that do? It’s not his burden to bear. EIRA: If his premonitions return and he finds out unceremoniously, you’d have rather he heard it from the horse’s mouth. TAYUIN: I… EIRA: What are you so afraid of? TAYUIN: I don’t know. Hurting him… I guess. He didn’t see a problem with throwing himself on the fire for us. What is he going to think when I tell him what I agreed to? He’ll feel guilty, again. He’s a good person and I don’t know how to deal with that. EIRA: Do you regret the bargain? TAYUIN: Regret has nothing to do with it. There was no other way out. Whatever she asked for, I would have had to agree. There’s so few people in my life who’ve ever shown me any real concern. And maybe he—like some of them— only does it because he’s obligated to. But it doesn’t feel that way. It feels genuine with him. And that’s why— EIRA: You like him? TAYUIN: What? EIRA: Is that not what you were going to say? TAYUIN: No! Why would I— EIRA: But you do like him. TAYUIN: I wasn’t— EIRA: Cut your shit. You aren’t in there turning down Prepaid Pretty Boy for nothing. TAYUIN: I just wasn’t in the mood! EIRA: Yeah. Right. TAYUIN: Just go back inside, already!       EIRA: laughs I don’t know, I’m starting to like the ambience out here. TAYUIN: You and the Bard are just in cahoots to ruin my night. EIRA: Stop whining and finish your thought. TAYUIN: …Fine. I just… don’t want to see someone like that… someone like him, punished. And maybe a part of me is afraid of losing the opportunity to have someone to really listen. I guess now I’d feel the same about you. EIRA: You’re not alone in that. TAYUIN: For once, it’s nice not to be alone.

#ts4 #ts4 screenshots #ts4 story #ts4 bachelor challenge #chosen of the sun #cc: eira #cc: tayuin eth'salin

[justmultifandom]

Kidge winter event

Day 4: Winter Holidays

(This is a Modern AU)

The Christmas holidays: a real break for students with the end of the first quarter. Katie sighed as she placed the large cup of hot black tea on the white saucer. She looked impatiently at the clock: four sixteen in the afternoon, she had been there for almost an hour now. Next to her, on the comfortable sofa with red cushions, her heavy canvas bag was still placed with notebooks and notes from the quarter inside. The beautiful bar door opened and a small bell rang while the sound of heavy rubber boots got closer and closer until it reached her with a wave of petrol and mint perfume. “Sorry for the delay, there was a lot of traffic due to the snow…”: the man smiled sheepishly, taking off his gray hat and red jacket: “I should have sent you a message, I know, it's my fault…” “Don't worry…”: Katie giggled: “The important thing is that you're here, Keith..” He smiled. After the unfortunate events of last year they had stopped seeing or writing to each other, and now they had finally had the courage to talk about it. What had happened between them was just a misunderstanding, a bad joke and a bad mistake. The summer had been hell for both of them. “I just wanted to say that I'm sorry I didn't call you or… just hear from you…”: she sighed, bringing the cup to her lips and taking a sip of the hot drink. “I didn't call you either…”: he replied: “We are equal in many aspects…” There was a brief pause in which neither of them could speak. Katie was casting her mind and memories back to the events of the past year, their effects and causes. They had been best friends throughout high school and middle school, and even when he dated Acxa in her junior year, breaking her little heart, she never betrayed their friendship. She had simply pretended nothing had happened; she had moved on with her life and her studies, also finding a kind and willing boyfriend to fill that void in her chest. All it took was some alcohol and a big Christmas party at Lance's house to make them sleep together, cheating on their partners at the same time. “How did Acxa cope?”: she asked, finding any excuse to speak and interrupt that deafening silence. “We argued, of course, but then everything went well…”: he replied, tapping his fingers nervously and slowly on the polished wooden table. “I'm happy…”: she nodded: “James and I broke up…” That had no relevance, however it was right that he knew it too. Apparently he had caught them making out at the party and when Katie returned to the apartment they shared the next morning, the suitcases were already packed and ready by the door while the furniture was bare of all her things. “I've always hated that asshole…”: Keith groaned, “You have no idea how much I wanted to punch him when you told me you were dating…” She bit back a small, amused smile, then cleared her throat. “What do you think we should do now?” She asked, playing with her fingers as he looked up at her for a moment. “What would you like to do?”: he asked in turn. “I don't know, become friends again and bury what happened? I don't think Acxa will be happy to know that I'm your best friend again after what happened…": she shook her head. “Acxa is not the problem, she and I decided to end our relationship a few months ago. Now she's with Veronica..”: he informed her. “OH…”: she squeaked in surprise: “I'm sorry…” “Don't be, we just talked calmly and came to the conclusion that everything was simply not as we had imagined…”: he explained. “And how would you have imagined it?”: she asked, daringly. “With a special person who has always been next to me, but who I was so blind as not to see completely…”: Keith looked at her with a slight smile, devouring her through his eyes. “Are you saying that after years I can be with the person I've always loved?”: she asked, as he moved next to her. "It depends on you…" Katie smiled. All of that was enough. She pulled him down for a kiss.

#voltron legendary defender #keith voltron #voltron pidge #kidge #keith x pidge #keidge #kidge winter event

[nctstany]

Love Me Now

Pairing: Jaeyong (Jaehyun x Taeyong)

Plot: All Taeyong wants to do is finish his last two years of college in peace but since he’s the son of a famous CEO he must do something he never thought he would do even in his next life time, marry his ‘enemy’.

Genre: Light angst, fluff, angst, smut???, light smut??, language, sexual themes, family problems, *cough cough* daddy issues

Sixteen

The last month was spent in confusion on both ends. They acted normal during it but there was a question that hung in the air and repeated itself in their heads.

Can we be something?

Taeyong ignored the question and Jaehyun was too scared to answer it or even ask. So when they were alone during the last month they tried to act normal. Jaehyun tried having his heart not throb in pain. 

"Just sign here." Taeyong didn't hesitate taking the pen and signing his name quickly. Jaehyun sighed when it was his turn. 

“Cheers to being divorced.” Mr. Lee half smiled and cleared his throat, “It’s not final yet but you two don’t have to live together anymore.”

“Perfect! Guess we are done so I’ll be going.” Taeyong smiled proudly and got up to leave. Jaehyun just stared. 

“Wait.” Mr. Lee had that look that his son hates, “I had my people find Yuta, he will be charged and you two don’t have to worry anymore.”

Taeyong would be lying if he said that he didn't care. Just by that awful man's name alone made him shake. 

“Can I go now? Have to pack.” He didn't wait for an answer just walked out the door, leaving Jaehyun behind. They didn't drive here together like they would usually do. Taeyong insisted to his dad to let him use the car service for once. He made sure to be at the house before the other. He was already half way done with packing, since he started the night before and doesn't have much, when Jaehyun walked in.

“Can we talk?” Jaehyun huffed out as if he ran here. 

“Didn't we already?” Taeyong said coldly, he felt bad acting like this.

"Why are you doing this?" 

Why? 

It was a question that Taeyong studied for all last night, something that Taeyong was prepared for.

"Because that was our agreement."

"Can we……start over?" 

"Okay." Taeyong laughed at the question and became serious again, "We will go back to when the last time we saw each other was graduation."

"Taeyong, please." Taeyong cut off his pleading and groaned, "Why? Why are you trying so hard?" 

Jaehyun huffed out a breath and grabbed Taeyong by the wrist, turning him towards him and came up closer, "Because I love you."

"What?" 

"I love you, Taeyong." 

"Don't say that." 

"I love you." 

Taeyong slapped him and Jaehyun kept his face down but continued, "I love you so much." 

"No you don't." 

"Why don't you believe me?" Taeyong breathed out heavily, "Because you were forced to! We were forced to!" 

"So you're saying if I kissed you right now then we wouldn't feel a thing? We wouldn't feel the same thing?" 

Taeyong didn't hesitate to provide a point and when he kissed the other, he felt the biggest spark. His body wanted to whine when he pulled away. 

"Nothing." 

~~

It has been a week and a half since Taeyong left. Jaehyun has been counting the days as if he was waiting for his day out of prison. He doesn’t know what to do and he has felt that way ever since Taeyong moved back to his apartment.

He just wants to call him to make sure he’s okay and not suffering like himself. He can’t, too scared of the call ending and the grant no answer. Just the thought of it……I hate it. 

He keeps thinking that Taeyong is gonna walk through the door, changing his mind. That he'll tell Jaehyun how much he actually loves him and that he'll never leave again. 

That's just his imagination though. His stupid, crazy, fucking dumb imagination. 

Longing for Taeyong. 

Wanting to touch the other. 

Wanting to kiss him and not regret it. Kissing him felt like heaven. 

The only thing that he does now is drink, he can’t smoke since it reminds him of being on the balcony with Taeyong. So during the whole week he’s been going to the bar, the first time he saw Taeyong be himself. When he realized that he loves him. 

Maybe drinking won’t help me right now. 

“You’ve been a walking corpse for almost two weeks, at least do me a favor and go outside.” Johnny passed him another whiskey on ice and leaned against the bar. 

"I don't want to." Jaehyun downed it in one go and slid back towards him, "Coming here is enough." 

It’s not enough……it’s never enough…… Jaehyun needs to see him again, he needs him again. He sounds desperate at this point……he is at this point. 

“I guess you’re still in love.”

“I can’t do anything about it though, he doesn’t want me.”

Johnny pitted him, showing a side smile and sighing as the other drank himself away. 

“Maybe come here when he’s here just to see him.” Johnny said and Jaehyun’s face lit up but quickly it went away. “No………I can’t.”

“You should……I’ll call you whenever he’s here.”

“I would feel like a stalker if I did that.” That’s going too low. “I can’t, Johnny.” 

He couldn’t, he already told himself that. Taeyong wouldn’t want to see him let alone talk to him. Let’s go back to when the last time we saw each other was at graduation. 

It hurts but it’s what is best. It’s best for Taeyong that’s all what Jaehyun wants, for him to be okay. If Taeyong is okay then he is. 

“There’s a guy and his friends trying to get your attention from across the room.”

Jaehyun turned around with his drink still in his hands. Johnny was right. They are trying heavily to get his attention. Giggling loudly and smiling big, Jaehyun awkwardly smiled back while turning back around.

“Look if you can’t talk to the love of your life then talk to other people. Or suck it up and call Taeyong.” 

“I’ll take my chances.” Jaehyun was cold with his response and Johnny was firm, “Go ahead then.”

So he headed towards the group, combing his hair through his fingers. Something that Taeyong always made fun of him for. 

“So I finally got your attention?” The one sitting at the end of the table said tucking his shoulder length hair behind his ear. He has the same ear piercings as Taeyong. 

“I like your piercings.” Jaehyun smiled making the other giggle and whisper into his ear, “I like you~”

They talked and the other flirted but Jaehyun kept this unspoken distance. He’s cute? Looks put together and has a nice voice? But he isn’t my Taeyong………

Jaehyun almost choked on his own spit, it got the rest of the table’s attention and he felt his face heat up.  

“Excuse me, sorry.” He walked away still coughing almost puking but he held it in.

“That went well.” Johnny teased, seeing the whole thing. Jaehyun was able to finally breathe and when he did it was nothing but a pitiful sight. He sighed and gripped his glass, finishing it and sliding it towards Johnny for more.

“I need him.”

#jaehyun x taeyong #nct taeyong #NCT 127 #NCT #nct jaehyun x taeyong #nct jaehyun #jaeyong #nct jaeyong #nct johnny

[starshapedkookie]

Southpaw

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_____

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

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

“Yeah?” You respond.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Coke as well,” Taehyung says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_____

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh god,” you mutter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh, do you need any—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Home?” She asks, “Thank god.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay, thanks again.”

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

_____

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm,” you mumble.

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

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

He nods slowly before a silence falls between you two.

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

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

The question catches you off guard.

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

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

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

“Sure,” you answer simply.

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

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

_____

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

“Who is that?” Jennie asks you.

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

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

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

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

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

Jennie’s eyes widen. “What?”

“I know right,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_____

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi,” he smiles.

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

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

“You ready?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

_____

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook looks pale, “I’ve met her, once or twice,” he says and it’s all the confirmation you need to understand that means he’s fucked her once or twice.

You don’t say anything else as you look through the menu, already knowing exactly what you want.

“When did you start working here?” Jungkook asks you.

“Oh, about a month ago,” you say. He already knows that. I guess you and Jungkook are really too that point, huh? Small, dull, repetitive conversation?

“How did your exams go?” He asks, chewing on his bottom lip. He’s nervous—you can sense it.

“Better than I thought,” you answer honestly.

“Hm, let me guess—you thought you did terrible but ended up getting an A,” he reads you perfectly.

“Hey! I don’t think like that,” you say even thought you know that is a fat lie.

“Come on Y/N, you’ve been that way since we were fourteen. Lying sends you to hell you know,” he raises an eyebrow at you and you look away from him to suppress your laugh.

“Fine. I got a 94 on one of them, I don’t know about the other one yet,” you tell him.

“See, you’re a genius,” he says and you shake your head.

“Most definitely not,” you say.

“I was always so envious of you growing up, you just sat there in school and you just… got it,” he says remembering back to your younger days, “All of us were jealous of you,” he adds.

“I can guarantee nobody was jealous of me Jungkook,” you give him a grimace, “We all were stupid in our own ways, maybe you more than anyone else,” you decide to pick on him since you’re feeling more relaxed as the conversation keeps going.

“Hey, no need to shit on me like that,” he gives you a pout.

Your phone suddenly vibrates against the table. It’s probably Jennie, you think to yourself as you flip the phone over. To your surprise, it’s not Jennie—It’s Namjoon.

[7:28 PM Kim Namjoon] hope you had a good day

[7:29 PM Kim Namjoon] mine would be a lot better if you were sitting on my cock right now

Your eyes widen and you flip the phone back over with a slam to the table. Jungkook looks at you curiously.

“Whose that?” He asks.

You want to lie, but Jungkook can tell when you’re lying. “Just Namjoon,” you tell him, “He was asking about some homework.”

Jungkook nods slowly before chewing on his bottom lip again, “You and hyung are good friends?”

Your face drops and you don’t say anything.

“I’m just asking since I’ve seen you guys together at our parties,” he adds while clearing his throat.

“Yeah, we’re friends,” is all that comes from your mouth. Jungkook’s eyes are hard to read but you can tell he knows you’re not saying what you’re actually thinking. What he wants you to do is be honest with him and tell him that yeah, you and Namjoon fuck from time to time, but of course, he doesn’t get that answer.

About twenty minutes later, Kyla is bringing your food.Your stomach growls as the scent of the food comes into your nostrils. The two of you begin eating, keeping some small talk between the two of you.

“Are you still a business major?” You ask him as you chow down on your French fries loaded with ketchup.

Jungkook scrunches his face up, “Hell no,” he shakes his head.

You stop your chewing momentarily, “Oh,” is all you can muster. “I’m sure that went over well with your father.”

Jungkook gives you a short glance, a smirk across his face, “It went as well as you can imagine.”

Growing up, Jungkook was expected to go to college, get a business degree of some kind and him and his older brother were to takeover his father’s company by the time he was 30—you would know, Jungkook would secretly complain to you about nonstop as teenagers.

“What are majoring in now?”

“Photography and film,” he answers boldly.

“Oh, wow,” you tell him, “That’s a big move.”

“I’d rather die than being forced to do something I don’t want to do, that’s no way to live life,” he munches on his burger, his eyes looking straight into yours.

“How’s Taehyung?” You ask him.

“He’s good,” he laughs a little bit, “Would you believe it if I told you he has a girlfriend?” He cocks his head slightly.

“Taehyung? And a girlfriend?” You say in disbelief. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope,” he chuckles, “It’s weird though, he won’t introduce me to her, hell he won’t even tell me her name.”

You furrow your eyebrows, “That is weird,” you pause, “Maybe he thinks you’ll steal her,” you smirk jokingly. 

Jungkook shakes his head, “Taehyung’s got more game than I do, trust me,” he says with a laugh. 

“I’m assuming you don’t have a girlfriend?” You ask him nervously, biting down on your bottom lip.

Jungkook stops eating and rolls his tongue on the inside of his cheek, “No, I haven’t dated anyone since Yuna really.”

The confession surprises you and you somewhat don’t believe him.

“Why not?” You press.

He shrugs, “Just haven’t found anyone I like I guess, like, really like, you know?”

You nod understandingly. Before Namjoon (whom you aren’t even dating) you had dated this guy for awhile and he was nice but you were bored as fuck in that relationship. Thankfully, you moved on from that onto better things.

Once the two of you finish your meals, Jungkook pays before you can protest and you leave the restaurant around 8:30 PM. You shove your hands into your jacket and walk along beside of Jungkook, lazily kicking rocks when you come across them.

“So, what did I do to deserve a free meal and a coffee from Jeon Jungkook in the span of two days?” You look up at him and he glances down to you quickly.

“I said I wanted to catch up, how else was I supposed to do that?” He smirks and you hit his arm playfully.

You don’t say anything so he continues.

“I don’t know, it’s just when I saw you last week working, I hadn’t seen you in so long… let alone speak to you,” he pauses, “It made me realize that I miss our friendship, I missed us…” he trails off, looking straight ahead.

“Why didn’t you reach out sooner?” You ask him seriously.

Jungkook hesitates some, “You could have reached out too, the phone works both ways” his words are unexpected, harsh. And they somewhat hurt.

You don’t say anything again, feeling a sting in your chest.

“I didn’t mean it like that Y/N,” Jungkook say, stopping his path to stand in front of you, “It’s just… we haven’t spoken in so long. I feel like you’re a completely different person ever since we got here to university. I don’t know what happened—“

“You don’t know what happened?” Your tone is sharp. “Are you stupid Jungkook?”

He looks taken aback, “W-what?”

“When we were eighteen and you fucking kissed me that’s what happened and that’s when shit changed Jungkook, don’t act like you don’t know,” you sound angry to which, you are. Talking about this gets you riled up.

Jungkook lowers his head, “We should have talked about that, I know but—“

“But what Jungkook? It ruined our friendship and you know it.”

“I ruined it?” He now sounds pissed off. “What ruined our friendship was you acting like I didn’t exist once we got here to college. You blew me off and blew me off time and time again,” he runs a hand through his hair, “I tried to maintain this friendship and you know it. If that stupid, fucking, drunken kiss bothered you that bad, you should have been a big girl and told me.”

You feel frustrated and you feel tears are threatening to spill out of you. You want to comeback with something, but you know he’s right. He did try and you were the one to put distance between you both.

“I-I,” you start but no words come out. “I’m sorry Jungkook. It’s just when we got here, things got more complicated and more stressful, and I couldn’t afford distractions—“

“So I’m a distraction now?”

“What? No, no, I didn’t mean it like that,” you shake your head in protest.

“So, hanging out at fraternity houses every weekend, getting hammered with Jennie every weekend, smoking pot once in awhile, and fucking Namjoon isn’t a distraction? But your best friend of fourteen years is a distraction?” Jungkook’s words come out in a frenzy and you feel slightly attacked.

“Excuse me what? Jungkook no—“ you stop yourself from speaking. You know he’s right but that doesn’t give him a right to attack you like that. “So, what’s your excuse then for not being the bigger person than, huh? Getting sucked off too many times in a bathroom and you realized you don’t need my attention anymore? Huh?”

Jungkook’s eyes darken and you can tell he’s pissed off.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He asks you.

“Jungkook, you’re my oldest friend—“

“You don’t treat me like it—“

“Well neither do you,” you back go back and forth with each other. You’re frustrated. Angry. Sad.

Jungkook is fighting a battle in his head. “I’m sorry okay,” he says, “I think we both can admit we’ve acted shitty to each other.”

You look away from him staring aimlessly at your lap, “I’m sorry too, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Neither should have I,” he says. “I just wish you had told me about that stupid kiss, we could have talked through it Y/N. I wasn’t thinking back then.”

“Why did you kiss me?”

Jungkook’s eyes look panicked and he scratches the back of his neck.

“I had a stupid little crush on you at the time okay? And alcohol doesn’t help, it only intensified my feelings.”

“What?” Your mouth drops agape at the confession.

“I know, stupid right,” he shakes his head, “Fuck I wished we had discussed this sooner because this is so embarrassing,” he laughs while shaking his head.

You’re in disbelief. Jungkook liked you? How did you not know? It makes your insides tingle at the thought, but you know you shouldn’t get excited so you drown out the feeling deep within you. 

“Well, that was years ago,” you tell him, “All we can do now is look ahead,” your breath is uneven and shaky.

“You’re right,” he mutters, “I really am sorry Y/N, I-I just want you as a friend again—“

“I forgive you Jungkook. And I’m sorry too.”

What Jungkook does next is unexpected but all too familiar. He grabs your chin and squeezes it in his hand. You swat him away with a laugh as he pulls you in by an arm. You oblige his movements and rest your head on his shoulder as the two of you keep walking. There’s something oddly intimate about this gesture. And the whole atmosphere has changed but you like it—it feels… like home.

“Can I ask you something?” You mumble.

“You just did,” he laughs and his chest rumbles underneath you.

“Shut the fuck up,” you lean up from him with a smile, “Namjoon said you talk about me a lot…?” You trail off your question. You could be sneaky if you really wanted to be.

“He did?” Jungkook panics. Fucking Namjoon, he thinks to himself. “W-what did he say?” He stumbles on his words.

“Just stuff,” you respond hesitantly, “He may or may not have said that you called me hot.” Jungkook freezes beside of you.

“Fucking hell, I’m gonna kill hyung,” he mutters underneath his breath, “Look I’m sorry okay—I was really drunk and I saw you at one of our parties in this short ass dress and fuck, yeah I said you were hot—I’m sorry okay? I know that’s so fucking weird jeez, I’m sorry—“

“Jungkook it’s fine,” you laugh interrupting his rambling. “It’s not weird, I just wanted to know whether or not Namjoon was feeding me shit.”

“You don’t think it’s weird?” He asks and you can sense that he is very embarrassed. “I told you, I’m not good with my alcohol.”

You shake your head, “I mean, you’re pretty hot too if I say so myself,” the words tumble from your mouth and you actually want to crawl in a hole and die. Did you just say that?! Jungkook looks at you as you turn your face away from him. Fuck, he thinks to himself. He glances down your body and notices the cleavage coming through your dress and the way you hair is pulled to one side. Fuck, he thinks again, yeah, stupid little crush three years ago my ass.

“Can I tell you something?” His voice his quiet, serious.

“Of course,” you look up at him with a concern face.

“You can’t tell anyone—not even Jennie,” he says, his voice low. You give him a confused look, but nod anyways.

“What’s wrong?” You ask him. He bits at his lip, feeling uneasy.

He takes in a deep breath before exhaling, “When I changed my major a few months back, my parents threatened to cut me off—“

“Whoa, what?”

“And they’re still threatening to if I don’t get my shit straight.”

“Jungkook, I don’t get what you’re saying? Have you done something?” You ask him, feeling already too uneasy about where this conversation is going.

“No, I haven’t done anything—that’s the problem. I haven’t proved to them that I’m worthy for them to keep paying for my school. I haven’t proved to them that I can get a job somewhere. My grades aren’t proving anything to them.”

“What are you gonna do if they cut you off? You can’t pay for this shit-hole by yourself—they know that.” You notice the way his jaw is grinding and his breathing is shaking.

“Please don’t get mad at me,” he mumbles quietly. Oh god. “Recently I started taking up, um… boxing,” he says, unsure of his words.

“…Okay?” You say slowly.

“I’ve been fighting, like underground fighting,” you almost don’t hear him, but then you do, and you want to laugh in his face—but he’s being serious.

“Fighting? Jungkook what the fuck?!” You push yourself away from the comfort of his side, “Are you crazy?!”

“I’m getting paid for the fights—if I win at least,” he tries to sound reasonable but to you, you want to scream at him in anger.

“Jungkook, are you fucking kidding me? You’re fighting? Instead of finding a real job?”

“Y/N you don’t understand—I make thousands of dollars for one fight—it’s my best chance right now.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you shake your head, pulling your hands through your hair in frustration, you cannot believe this man right now.

“What are you going to do about school then? Huh?” You press him.

“I-I was hoping you would help me, at least try to tutor me,” he says hesitantly and your stomach drops. You don’t say anything for a moment, unsure if you want to scream or cry at him.

“So this is the reason why you wanted to rekindle our friendship, so I could be your fucking tutor?”

“What no—“

“Are you fucking kidding me Jungkook? I cannot believe you right now,” your voice is getting louder by the minute. You start to walk away from him back to your apartment by yourself, unable to even look at him right now.

“Wait—no, please Y/N,” Jungkook runs to you, grabbing your hand and pulls you back to him, “I know this is all bad timing but I really did miss having you as a friend and you’re the only person, I could tell this to, at least for now,” he quickly explains.

“What, so you want me to help you through school while you get the shit knocked out of you for money?” You ask him, “Jungkook I don’t want to see you go through that, you have to find another option,” your eyes are pleading with him. His grip moves from your hand to your waist which causes your heart to race irregularly.

“Y/N, please I know it’s not the best but it really is my best option. I need someone there for me and I need that person to be you,” his face is too close for comfort and you back away from him a few inches.

“Jungkook, I don’t know,” you shake your head.

“Please, Y/N, I’m begging you,” he says again.

“Have you told anyone?” You ask him.

“Aside from you, only Taehyung knows—and Yoongi, he was the one to introduce me to it.” Yoongi—a name you’re not familiar with.

“Fucking hell Jungkook,” you lean your head back, trying to contain your emotions.

“Please you can’t tell anyone Y/N, I can get in serious trouble by obtaining money this way.”

“Yeah because it’s fucking illegal,” you spit at him. You find his hand to grip a little too tightly and you want to scream at Jungkook. How could he be so stupid? And how were you going to let him be so stupid?

“I’ll help you with school Jungkook, but the fighting… I don’t know,” you tell him, “You know I’m not going to be okay with that.”

“If you makes you feel any better, I haven’t lost. The most I’ve walked away with is a few scraps and bruises on my arms,” he tries to lighten up your mood but it doesn’t work. “I promise I won’t get hurt, I know what I’m doing,” he nudges you trying to loosen you up some. He hands end up grabbing yours, intertwining them tightly.

“Don’t make me promises you can’t keep Jungkook,” you tell him and his face falls again. Both of you look at your intertwined hands. “At least promise me you’ll be careful,” you plead him.

“Of course. I promise,” he says giving your hand a squeeze. Without warning, he pulls you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around your waist tightly. Your hands snake up against his neck and pull him close to you as well.

His scent is all too familiar and it scares you that you’ve missed out on him growing into the handsome adult he is now. And now, you have to fear for his wellbeing. Fuck. Jungkook pulls away from you and your faces meet a little too close for comfort. His nose brushes against yours, his eyes burning holes into you.

“I’d trust you with my life Y/N,” he speaks again, “And I’m trusting you with this.”

Your breath hitches as his nose brushes yours again. Fuck, you think to yourself. You bite your lip, knowing that you wold absolutely die for this boy and it takes all of you to grip his shirt and push him away from you. You feel less suffocated once your space is empty and Jungkook’s hand stays in yours as he walks you home. It’s a good thing, you think, that you’ve had a stupid little crush on him too or you would most definitely not do this shit for him.

_____

“So,” Jennie says slowly, “How was it?”

You hadn’t even walked into your apartment five feet before Jennie is rushing questions onto you.

“Um,” you pause, taking the time to take off your shoes, “It went... well,” you say, unsure of your words. Did it go well? You weren’t sure considering the two of you were in an argument nearly the whole way home.

“Well?” Jennie asks, curiosity dripping in her tone, “I need more details than that. What’d you do? What did you guys talk about?”

“Um, we just kind of caught up on things,” you knew you had to tread your words lightly. “It felt pretty normal.” You add at the last second, giving her a weak smile. She narrows her eyes at you.

“That’s it?” She somewhat frowned.

“What did you want me to say?” You give her a laugh as you begin to walk back towards your room and undress into your sleepwear. She follows your footsteps closely.

“I don’t know! I was just expecting more, more from you! You seem awfully quiet,” she says plopping down on your bed that she is oh-so accustomed to.

You look through your drawers and pull out a big t-shirt and slip it over your head. You turn to Jennie and give her another pathetic attempt of a smile.

“It’s just weird okay,” you tell her, climbing onto your bed with her, “This was the first time we’ve actually hung out by ourselves in years and I don’t know, it was good, like we picked up where we left off you know?” You knew that was a complete lie but you needed to get Jennie off your case or you were afraid you would let your worries slip.

She lets out a sigh, “I guess so. I do think about high school sometimes and we really had it good… the four of us,” she smiles fondly thinking back to simpler times.

“Yeah… we did,” you agree staring up at your ceiling.

“How’s Taehyung by the way? Did Jungkook mention him?”

You give a glance at Jennie and she’s looking at her overgrown nails. “He’s good, Jungkook said he had a girlfriend which surprised me.”

“Hm,” Jennie shrugged, “Interesting.”

You furrowed your eyebrows while looking at her. “Interesting?” You found her answer odd but she brushes it off.

“Yeah, well I have homework to do that isn’t gonna do itself unfortunately,” she stands up from your bed, “See you in the morning, goodnight.” She throws you a quick wink before she leaves, shutting your bedroom door behind of her.

You let out a sigh of relief when she leaves. As happy as you were that you and Jungkook reconnected some tonight, the uneasiness in the pit of your stomach was keeping you from focusing on the good. You couldn’t believe what Jungkook had gotten himself into. Boxing? For money? You knew Jungkook never had much common sense but this takes it to another level. You now knew one of his deepest secrets and not only could that seriously backfire on you if something went wrong. He said he trusted you with his fucking life for Christ’s sake. Who says that to someone they’ve barely spoken to in two years? Someone who is desperate, you think.

You grab a book from your nightstand for one of your classes and flip to your last read page, trying to rid your mind of Jungkook getting the shit beat out of him. And as much as you read your book and your eyelids fall sleepy, you manage to barely sleep that night, as images of your old friend are burned into your brain.

_____

It wasn’t long after your first meetup with Jungkook that he started asking for tutoring help. Jungkook knew your schedule was busy and he didn’t want to pressure you into anything, but the more you were around Jungkook, the more desperate you were to help him. You have known him for so long and despite all your differences, he truly was and will always be one of your best friends. And best friends helped each other. Right?

“Hey—sorry I’m late,” you meet Jungkook in the back of the fourth floor of the library after your last class of the day. “I had a question about my lecture—“

“Y/N it’s fine,” Jungkook says softly, not looking up from his paper, “Don’t worry about it.”

You set down beside of him and begin to take your belongings out of your backpack and you notice Jungkook has already begun some work himself.

“How was classes today?” You ask him opening up your laptop. You give him a glance and he’s focused on the problem in front of him.

“It was alright, I slept through my first one at ten—“

“What’s that?” You ask as you let your eyes focus a little too close on his face. A cut lined across his jaw and up towards his left ear and you felt yourself begin to panic.  “Jungkook what—“

“Don’t worry about it,” he’s being cold and distant and you don’t like it. You look down his arms and onto his hands and notice some cuts and bruises there too. That’s when it hits you.

“Jungkook did you have a fight recently?” You keep your voice low so no one else could hear. He visibly tenses up beside of you and he adjusts his beanie on his to try and cover his ear area.

“Yeah,” he says simply, his eyes not looking at you one time, still focusing on the paper ahead.

“Jungkook,” your tone is deep and not happy, but you suppose there isn’t much you can do in this situation. Curiosity got the best of you and you ask, “What happened?”

“Let’s not talk about that okay?” He turns to you fully and you inwardly gasp, seeing that his right eye is half blacked behind his glasses. You feel sick to your stomach and your mouth parts. Again, you don’t say anything and just give him a nod.

The rest of the tutoring session with him goes smoothly and Jungkook has significantly picked up his understanding of his classes in a short amount of time, but in the back of your mind you wanted to scream. Scream at him. How could he be doing this to himself? He first told you he was fine. He sure doesn’t look fine. It’s getting close to 7 o’clock when you tell him you have to go get ready for your shift at the diner in an hour.

“We can pick up again whenever you need to,” you tell, “And text me if you have any questions.”

“What are you doing this weekend?” Jungkook completely ignores your sentences and you turn to him, trying not to stare at the faint of blue under his eye.

“Um, I have another shift tomorrow that starts at 7,” you tell him.

“Can you get off?” He asks almost nervously as the two of you begin to leave the library.

You chuckle, “Probably not, why?”

“Well, Taehyung and I are having a small get together at our apartment and I wanted to know if you and Jennie wanted to come?”

He sounds genuine and you know it could be fun and a little different from the chaotic frat scene that you’re used to.

“Sure, I’m sure Jennie will be down,” you give him a smile to which he returns one for the first time tonight. “If I can’t get off work I’ll just come after my shift.”

“Sounds good,” he says and you are about to part ways before he grabs your arm to stop you, “Thanks again Y/N, for helping me out,” there’s a glimmer in his eyes.

“No problem, it’s what a friend would do right?” You give him your best smile although it feels weird saying that. His face drops in the slightest way.

“Yeah…” he trails off, his hand trailing down your arm before letting go, “See you soon?”

You give him a nod, “See you soon.”

_____

Your shift at the diner tonight was being particularly slow for a Tuesday and you found yourself aimlessly making lattes for yourself every thirty minutes. You were slightly jacked from the caffeine but you knew you would need it once you went home to finish off the load of your homework for the night. Bedtime as of right now was looking to be 3 AM, possibly 4. Mark is once again working with you tonight which makes it all the more bearable, but the more you stand behind the counter, sipping your coffee, the more you realize you do not want to waste tomorrow night working.

“Hey, Mark,” you say and he looks up from his book.

“What’s up?” He asks, his eyes focussing on you.

“Would you care…. to possibly… take my shifts this weekend?” You ask slowly, dancing around the topic. His eyebrows furrow and you could tell that is not what he wanted to hear from you.

“I mean… I don’t care to, but can I ask why?”

Shit. You couldn’t say it was to go to a small party. That would be an automatic no.

“Well, I’ve been tutoring someone recently and it's taken away from my own study time, so I really need all weekend to catch up on all my shit,” you say smoothly. Not a complete lie, but he didn’t need to know you would be catching up on your “shit” tonight and not this weekend.

“Yeah, sure whatever,” he waves his hand off, “Just be sure to tell our manager before you leave.”

“Right… thanks Mark.”

“That means you owe me a shift in the future,” he says pointedly.

“Yeah, yeah, read your fucking book.”

_____

Friday was a blur. You went to sleep around 3:45 AM. Had to wake up at 7 AM for your 8 AM lecture, dragged your feet to your other classes, barely had time to eat anything, only consuming coffee to suppress your appetite in the afternoon, and now that you were home you couldn’t wait to lay in your bed for a few hours.

Jennie didn’t have classes on Friday’s—fuck her—so she had been chilling all day when you burst through the door exhausted.

“You look horrible,” she said as soon as you flopped down on the couch beside of her.

“You don’t have to tell me that,” you groan covering your eyes.

“Well you better get rested up before tonight,” she says.

“What’s tonight?” You mumble, nearly drifting off to sleep right then and there.

“Jungkook invited us to his apartment, that’s what you said last night,” she gave you a funny look before shaking her head.

Shit. You had forgotten about that throughout your drowsy state all day.

“Yeah, right,” you pause, looking at her through the crack of your arm, “Wake me up at 7 to get ready.” You stand up planning on taking the fattest nap of your life.

“I-I captain!” Jennie says sarcastically and it’s the last thing you hear before passing out on your bed, not even bothering to put a blanket over you.

_____

Jungkook and Taehyung’s apartment isn’t far from yours. You wouldn’t say the exterior is nicer than yours, but the abundance of buildings shows that their community is much larger than the one you and Jennie share.

“This is right?” Jennie asks as you knock on the door heavily.

“Yeah,” you say, faintly hearing music from the other side of the door.

The door swings open and to your surprise, it’s Taehyung.

“Jennie, Y/N!” He smiles widely at the two of you before ushering you in. “It’s been wayyyy too long! You guys want a drink?”

You take a second to look around their apartment, not seeing Jungkook anywhere. There’s about two dozen people here, some playing pong, others sitting around the living area. You knew Taehyung was feeling a little drunk despite it being only 9 from the way he grabs a couple cups, the entire tower of them falling over.

“How have you guys been?!” Taehyung pours some cheap tequila into your red solo cups and hands them over.

“Good, what about you?” Jennie smiles to him and Taehyung pours another shot for himself.

“Fucking great,” he says before putting his cup out. The three of you bump cups and down the tequila, a familiar burn hitting you instantly. It’s oddly reminiscent, the three of you drinking alcohol like there are no problems with the world.

“Where’s Jungkook?” You ask, giving another glance around the apartment, only recognizing some of his frat brothers, but him still not to be found.

“He went to get more alcohol and some other things,” Taehyung says, pouring another shot for the two of you. “I heard the two of you finally got over your bullshit?”

You furrow your eyebrows and Jennie laughs. “W-what?” You have to laugh too, “Bullshit?”

“You know, how the two of you acted like neither of you existed? God it was so annoying hearing that little bitch talk about you constantly,” he rolls his eyes dramatically and Jennie eyes you suspiciously.

“Uh, yeah—“ you were unsure of what to say, “Heard you have a girlfriend now?” You change the subject quickly and Jennie raises her eyebrows at Taehyung.

“Really?” Jennie says almost passively. Taehyung doesn’t glance at you, only looking to Jennie.

“Yeah,” he says, “C’mon, drink your shit. The night is young and you guys need to catch up!”

“Or you need to slow down?” You offer and only giggles again. You down another shot and at this pace, you’ll be passed out by 11, Jennie by 10. You’ve always handle your alcohol better than her, but a shot every two minutes will do anyone in.

The three of you talk aimlessly, somewhat of an unresolved tension between Jennie and Taehyung that is impossible to avoid until you get some more alcohol in you. You’re about four shots of Jose Cuervo in and sipping on some type of seltzer when your phone buzzes in your hand.

[9:46 PM Namjoon] hey, wrud tonight

[9:46 PM You] at a friend’s place tonight, wbu

Your eyes are having trouble to focus as the alcohol begins to settle in your system. You remember vividly how you barely had any food today and you know you should stop drinking otherwise you might puke everywhere.

[9:48 PM Namjoon] damn, missing you. I believe you still owe me a rain check

You laugh at your phone.

[9:48 PM You] soon, I promise lol

“Jungkook! Fuck yes my brother!”

You instantly look up from your phone and see Jungkook walking through the front door, a case of beer in one hand and a brown bag in the other. He smiles as he sets down the case and bag of liquor as his brothers crowd around him to grab a can.

Do you go up to him? Yes, are you, stupid? But shouldn’t he look for you? What are you twelve?

Your internal monologue is interrupted when Taehyung pulls you over to Jungkook with a small push.  

“Hey Y/N,” Jungkook smiles, grabbing a beer for himself. He’s wearing a hat to cover his forehead.

“Hi,” you smile and he gives you a small, somewhat awkward hug.

“Glad you could make it,” he says, the bruises on his face from the other day already looking a lot better.

“I was not going to spend my Friday night at the restaurant,” you laugh, trying intensely to focus on his face and not zone in and out as you tend to do drunkenly.

“Jennie here?” He asks.

“Yeah, she’s uh,” you pause, actually not knowing where she went. “Oh, she’s playing pong with Taehyung.”

“Come on then,” he reaches out his hand, “Let’s play with them.”

“Jungkook I’m terrible, you know that—“

“I never said you were good, but for old times sake?” His brown eyes bore into yours and you give in, nodding your head and settling your hand into his. His hands are warm—always have been. Slightly rough and calloused but smooth—what the fuck, stop it!

The four of you, girls verses boys, start a new game of pong and you’re sure Jennie is just as bad as you. That’s evident when Jungkook and Taehyung lob four in, one after another. You’re lucky you get one in their cups. Jennie, too drunk at this point, can’t even throw straight. The whole sight is very funny as the four of you laugh like you’re the only ones in the room.

“Come on Y/N!” Taehyung yells, “I knew you were ass but really?!”

“Me! What about her!” You defend yourself as Jennie throws a ball at Jungkook’s head.

“At least Y/N can aim!” Jungkook laughs, defending you as well, rubbing his head from the plastic impact.

The game ends with Jungkook calling island and you don’t even care at this point. Pong was and never will be your favorite. Flip cup was your speciality and even Taehyung knew that. You find yourself sitting with Jungkook on their couch, legs tucked underneath you, watching at Taehyung and Jennie take on another round of pong with Jackson—a fraternity brother—and his long time girlfriend—Mina, maybe?

“Are you even drunk right now?” You deadpan Jungkook with your eyes and he gives you a small smile.

“Nah,” he says, “You are though,” he says pointedly drinking from his beer.

“Hey—“ you point, “Only a little,” you whisper close to his ear and he laughs at you again. “You sir, need to drink.”

Jungkook shakes his head before standing up, your eyes following up his jeans to his t-shirt clad chest. Has he always looked like this? You grab onto his extended hand and he leads you away from everyone and your heart rate quickens. Where are you going? What’s he doing?

To your relief, he takes to the small outside balcony, sliding the door nearly closed as you step out. There’s two other people out here smoking cigarettes that greet you and Jungkook curiously. You have seen these boys before, but you know they don’t recognize you. They obviously think you’re some random girl Jungkook has invited but—if they only knew.

The fresh air feels nice, but you can feel a chill running down your spine and you watch Jungkook’s frame go to a dark corner of the balcony, bending down to pick something off the ground.

“What are you doing?” You ask him and he turns back to you and you send some interesting paraphernalia in his hands.

“Not in a drinking mood tonight,” he says, his eyes leaving yours before focusing on the small glass bowl in his hands. He starts to pack it and you’re watching his every move closely. You never knew Jungkook to be a stoner, but the way he packs it quickly and begins to light it, tells you otherwise. He inhales through the end of the bowl deeply, exhaling once, before quickly taking another hit.

“Goddamn,” you laugh and he starts to cough a little bit, a small laugh coming from him.

Jungkook begins to walk back to the corner before you grab his shirt to pull him back.

“You heard of sharing is caring?” You say and he shakes his head.

“No, you’re drunk, you don’t need—“

“I want too,” you say. You hadn’t smoked in awhile, but you knew you could trust Jungkook. “Come on, I’m fine.”

Jungkook hesitates a little before he holds out the bowl. You take it and hold is securely between your lips. He lights the underside and you inhale deeply. The balcony begins to smell like weed, but it doesn’t bother you, it never has. You exhale and give him a small smile. He puts the illegal substances away and stands beside of you on the balcony.

“Alright, that will be five dollars,” he says and you turn to him, your mouth agape.

“Five dollars a hit? Kiss my ass,” you say and you suddenly begin to feel the effects of the marijuana, which makes you giggle a little too long.

“How was your day?” Jungkook asks you and you nearly feel like you could fall asleep.

“Exhausting,” you mumble, “I got like four hours of sleep last night and one of my professors had the audacity to tell me that my answer was wrong on my homework when literally five other people had the same answer and got it right. And then I had coffee as my meals and had a busting headache until I took the longest nap of my fucking life—“

“Slow down,” Jungkook interjects with a laugh, “Too much information that I’m not processing right now.”

You let out an “ugh” before saying, “I’ve had better days for sure.” You leave it at that. “What about you?”

He smiles before turning to you completely, “I’ve had better days, better weeks for sure.” He almost sounds annoyed now, like something is deeply bothering him.

You let a pause presume between the two of you, unsure of what to say. You know you shouldn’t bring it up, but you can’t help it. The bruises on his face, the cuts on his hands—you needed to know what happened to him. Despite your intoxicated state, you could form sentences and think pretty clearly and you weren’t letting Jungkook out of your sight without explaining himself.

“Jungkook,” you say in a whisper, looking around to see if the other guys had left. They had. “Are you gonna tell me what happened to your face?”

He looks down, almost embarrassed. “There was a fight on Tuesday,” he stops when you furrow your eyebrows at him.

“Tuesday?!” You half whisper, “What the hell are you doing fighting on a Tuesday? Jungkook you said—“

“It wasn’t an official fight Y/N,” he interrupts you, “I was fucking jumped with one of my friends,” he says and your eyes widen. You feel your head spinning and your mouth goes dry. From the weed, alcohol, or the conversation? You’re not sure.

“What?” You ask, worry filling your tone, “Jungkook what the fuck! You said you had this under control.”

“Keep your voice down!” He scolds, “I do have it under control, although you can’t really control when you get jumped.”

“W-why? Who would want—“

“His name is Eric. I beat him at the last real fight and I guess he’s a sore fucking loser. He wants a rematch and everything, said he was injured before the fight, so he sent some pussies to jump my friend Jimin and I.”

The information being taken in wasn’t something you wanted to hear. Was this stupid underground boxing that serious? And how stupid could Jungkook be to continue to do this?

“Well you’re not gonna fight him again,” you pause. He doesn’t look at you. “Are you?”

“There’s a lot of money on the line,” he says.

“Jungkook you’ve got to be joking.”

“I’m not Y/N,” he turns to you again, his body now closer than before. His knuckles gripping the railing are pale and cracked. “If I win this fight, I won’t need anymore money before the end of the year. Hell, I’ll probably even have some left over.”

“Okay? And?”

“Then I can be done with fighting,” he sounds genuine but insincere  at the same time. This greatly improves your posture and you feel your heartbeat calming down.

“B-but I figured you would need more money? Your parents Jungkook?” You stumble over some of your words.

“Y/N you don’t understand the money within these things, it’s insane. Trust me, I’ll be set with money for awhile. I just have to win that fight…”

You want to protest him. Tell him he shouldn’t do it, that he should find a normal job, get away from that stuff—but you stay silent. Jungkook always will be as stubborn as you and he seems to have made up his mind about this fighting stuff awhile ago. At the end of the day, whatever happens to him, isn’t necessarily your business.

“You know I’ll never agree with this,” you shake your head, looking down at Jungkook’s hands. They’ve relaxed against the railing and time has slowed down significantly. Every blink of your eyes seem to last 5 seconds and Jungkook could say the same thing.

“I know,” Jungkook steps towards you, overlapping one of his hands with yours, “But like I said, I trust you and you should trust me,” he almost sounds desperate. “Look at me,” he whispers and you slowly turn your head up. Your noses are nearly touching and you can smell him, your vision clouding in the dark.

“Do you trust me?” He asks quietly, licking his lips and you swallow, trying to find your breath.

You nod your head slowly, “Yes.”

You don’t know who leans in first, but when your lips meet, it’s like a siren goes off. The scene feels all too familiar. His lips are soft and they feel just like you remember. He’s gentle with you, his left hand holding your waist to pull you towards him, your bodies flush together. One of your hands finds their way to his hair and you pull him down closer to you. This feels good, really good—but isn’t this wrong? You two have just rekindled your relationship and you two didn’t even last four weeks before you two are snogging—the very reason your friendship became weird in the first place all those years ago.

You try to pull away, “Jungkook—“ he closes the gap once again and it’s like a drug—touch is like heroin in your veins. Both of you are hungry—hungry for each other. You’re not sure when, but you find yourself backed into the wall of the dark-side of the balcony. The door isn’t in view so anyone inside couldn’t see what was going on right now thank god.

“Y/N,” the groan sends your body into overdrive and he begins to trail his lips down your neck and you’ve pulled him so close to you there is barely room to breathe. It’s gotta be the alcohol—or the weed—or just Jungkook—but you’ve never wanted anyone more in your life. You squeeze your thighs together to find some unrelieved friction and Jungkook senses what you’re doing. He stops you, forcing is own leg between your crotch and you subtly moan.

“Fuck, shh,” Jungkook scolds and it makes you laugh as you check if anyone is coming to the door.

“Jungkook,” you whisper and he closes the gap between you again, covering your mouth gently and you genuinely feel butterflies in your stomach. Jungkook’s hand trails from your waist down to the front of you jeans and you pull away suddenly, “Jungkook w-what are you doing?!”

“Do you want me to do this?” He sounds mischievous as he pops open the button to your pants and you can safely say you never thought you would be in this situation with Jeon Jungkook of all people, but you are not about to stop him.

You kiss him this time, pulling on his hair, eliciting another delicious groan from him. His hand makes it way to your center and you shiver in the cold, his hands warm against your underwear. He rubs you through the material, once, twice, three times before he moves aside the fabric—the wetness covering his fingers instantly. You look towards the door again nervous that someone might walk out here and see the two of you compromised—you would die. Especially if it was Taehyung or Jennie.

“Quiet, alright?” Jungkook whispers and you nod biting your lip as he enters a finger into you. You close your eyes, mouth falling open. Your breathing picks up as he enters a second digit. His fingers are long and calloused as you noticed before but it feels so good. He brings one of your legs around his waist so he can get deeper into your center and a small, squeaky moan escapes from your mouth. Jungkook shuts you up by kissing you again and he begins to move his fingers in and out, curling them in all the right places, sending you into a silent mess.

You and Jungkook shouldn’t be doing this—not here, not right now, not ever. But you’re not doing anything to stop it. Neither is he. Is this suppose to be happening then? No—definitely yes. Wait, what? Your brain is so foggy you can’t even think straight.

Jungkook has added a third finger and it’s becoming harder and harder to stay quiet. Jungkook’s face in the crook of your neck, your neck in his—it’s all a little too intimate but it’s hot and heavy and it feels so good. Jungkook begins to use his thumb to find your clit, which he does with no problem—rubbing there and still moving in and out of you. Goddamn, he knows what he is doing.

“Jungkook, I’m gonna—“

“Shh,” he says, “Bite me, anywhere,” he says and you do as he says, your teeth clamping down onto his shoulder as you feel yourself falling off the edge. Your orgasm comes in a huge wave and it’s one of the best you’ve had in a long time—your body is shaking and you whimper into his shoulder, trying to keep as quiet as possible. Jungkook lets you finish before he pulls his hand out of your pants, letting your leg drop. You two stare at each other for a couple seconds, unsure of what to do now. You knew that Jungkook was hard in his pants but you weren’t sure if he wanted you to do anything about it. Should you ask? No that’s fucking weird. Well it’s fucking weird you just let your best friend of a billion years to give you one of the best orgasms of your life.

“Um,” he speaks first, “We should go back inside,” he says.

You nod, “Yeah, we should.”

You follow closely behind him as he slides the door open and you step back into the much warmer apartment.

“Y/N! Jungkook! What were you guys doing?!” Jennie pops out of nowhere until she steps back, “Fuck never mind, I can smell it,” she laughs, her eyes looking between the two of you. “What’s wrong with you two? Are you fighting again? Jesus fucking—“

“No, we’re fine, just high,” Jungkook gives her a reassuring smile and she nods absentmindedly. She is very drunk and then two of you might have to go home sooner than later.

“I need to call an Uber,” you say grabbing your phone from your pocket.

“I can drive you guys if you want,” Jungkook offers and you narrow your eyes at him.

“Absolutely not, you’re high.” You say pulling up the app on your phone.

“I’ve driven high before it’s not—“

“Jungkook, no,” you somewhat snap at him. This kid really knows how to grind your gears. “Thanks for inviting us, I just don’t want Jennie to do something she regrets tomorrow morning.” You try your best to lighten to mood but it’s not helping. As much progress as you and Jungkook had made the past few weeks, that all feels gone now. There’s heaviness with you and him and you hate it.

“Just let me know when you make it home?” Jungkook’s eyes are hard to read. He looks worried, anxious, high obviously, and other potential obscurities.

“I will, I promise,” you give him a smile and he returns one weakly. You look over your shoulder to find Jennie practically draping herself all over Taehyung. Fuck. “Jennie! Come on! We’re leaving,” you stomp over to the two of them and Taehyung doesn’t seemed bothered by Jennie throwing herself at him at all. If anything, they both seem to like it. “Jennie, quit, he has a girlfriend. Taehyung, you have a girlfriend,” you narrow at the both of them.

Taehyung laughs very drunkenly, “You’re right, come on Jen,” Taehyung pushes her away slightly and she stumbles over her feet.

“Our Uber is almost here,” you tell her and she nods.

“Sounds good,” she gives you a thumbs up. 

“Help me walk her Tae?” You ask and he nods.

As you and Taehyung have Jennie up around your shoulders, you look around the apartment to find Jungkook to tell him bye, but he’s nowhere to be seen.

_____

It had been exactly one week since you’ve seen Jungkook. Since he was fist deep into your vagina, pleasuring you with at least 20 people in the room next to you. It has also been the last time you spoke to him. He didn’t reach out for any tutoring this week which was odd—as the two of you set a schedule for it a few weeks back. You were worried. You knew you should reach out to him and talk about what happened—but something was holding you back. You didn’t want to talk over the phone. It had to be done in person and it just had to be done. You didn’t want to lose Jungkook a second time to another drunken mistake.

Mistake? Since when was it a mistake? Was it a mistake?

You had no idea.

It’s why you’ve found yourself at Jungkook’s apartment a week later, waiting for someone to open the door. You wait patiently and no one answers the door. You’re about to give up when a voice startles you.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?”

Taehyung appears to your left and you jump.

“Shit Taehyung,” you hold a hand over your chest, “I’m sorry, I-I was just wondering if Jungkook was home?”

Taehyung adjusts his backpack. He must be getting back from class. “He’s probably at the gym.”

You nod slowly, “Alright, thank you.”

“No problem,” he says and you’re about to walk away and he stops you again, “Everything okay?”

You open your mouth and close it again, “Not sure,” you tell him honestly. He nods without another word, seeming to understand where you’re coming from.

If your assumptions were right, Jungkook would be at a gym about ten minutes from campus, one he frequented as a freshman all that time ago. You wanted everything to be okay, but now, you were sure you have done fucked it up once again.

The gym isn’t crowded and you don’t recognize any cars to be Jungkook’s so your mood begins to dampen as you walk towards the front door. The bell rings and you probably look like an idiot walking in with jeans and sandals, but your eyes ignore the stares as you try to find Jungkook. You walk through the gym towards the back, your neck craning each direction to find him. It smells of sweat and grit, something you haven’t done too much of lately. You’re about to give up until you reach the back, where a cracked door leads into another section of the gym. You open the crack slowly and the sounds of grunting and hard hits fill the room. You stop in your place as your eyes land on Jungkook, downing boxing gloves, a pair of shorts, and nothing else. You gulp.

He’s hitting a heavy bag hard and fast, his movements halting only for a split second before he strikes again. He’s dripping in sweat and you gulp again. Should you interrupt? He’s definitely not expecting you therefore you probably shouldn’t barge in but you’re already here, so what are you supposed to do?

“Come on Jungkook,” another man’s voice comes into play. You’ve never seen this guy with mint colored hair. “Throw a southpaw, let’s go!” 

Jungkook’s stance quickly changes and he’s throwing his right arm and then uppercutting his left arm with all of his weight. 

“Nice Jungkook,” the voice says again. Jungkook steps back with a smile on his face, looking behind him. 

“Hey,” a different voice yells over and you stop to see who it is. A guy slightly shorter than Jungkook appears in the crack of the door, a wide smile across his face.

“Good news, fight is set,” the guy smiles, although his smile reads less than enthusiastic. You notice some bruising along this guys arms, a large scrap on the side of his face. This has to be Jimin, the other guy that was jumped with Jungkook. 

“When is it?” Jungkook breathes heavily, his hair sticking to his forehead as he tries to push it back through his gloves.

“October thirteenth,” Jimin says, “A Friday.”

Jungkook laughs, “A fucking Friday the thirteenth? How cheesy could they get?”

You swallow harshly. October 13th was a less than three weeks away. You’re sure they are talking about the fight with the guy named Eric that Jungkook mentioned.

“I know right,” the nameless guy says, “But I’m sure you’ll kick his ass once again, waste of your time.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice Jimin,” Jungkook sounds annoyed and you’re starting to wonder if you should have came here at all. 

“Come on, let’s do some more sets,” the other guy says says, patting Jungkook on the shoulder.

You take in a deep breath, hoping that this doesn’t backfire. You take your chance and open the door to the room as if you just showed up. Jungkook, Jimin, and the third guy turns to you.

“Y/N?” Jungkook asks, looking confused, “What are you doing here?”

You glance around the room awkwardly, “Uh, I-uh, went to your apartment to see you if you were a-and Taehyung said you were here, so,” you sound like a babbling idiot.

Jungkook’s eyes soften and it’s hard to not stare below his neck, but somehow you manage.

“Jimin, Yoongi this is Y/N,” Jungkook formally introduces you, “She’s a friend.” A friend. That hurt more than it should have.

“Hi,” Jimin gives you a sweet smile and he seems like a person Jungkook would automatically gravitate towards. Yoongi stays quiet. He’s definitely not someone you would strike as Jungkook’s friend. 

“Sorry if I’m interrupting—I didn’t know…” you trail off, feeling more than awkward in this situation.

“No worries,” Jimin shakes his head, “We were almost done anyways.”

Jungkook’s eyes haven’t met yours since you’ve walked in. He’s staring at Jimin and knowing Jungkook, he’s going to try and leave as soon as he can.

“Wanna meet again tomorrow?” Jimin asks towards Jungkook as he packs up his bag on the floor.

“Yeah, sure,” Jungkook mutters, staring aimlessly at the ceiling. “I’m gonna stay here for a little longer though.”

“Alright,” Jimin says, “It was nice to meet you Y/N.”

You smile to him, “You too.”

Jimin and Yoongi leave the room and the silence is suffocating. You cross your arms around your chest feeling vulnerable and insecure. You look at Jungkook and he’s staring at you now. He looks away from you before turning back to the bag, lining up to strike it again.

“Jungkook,” your voice interrupts his chance to punch. He pauses with one more glance to your frame. You begin to walk closer to him wanting to get this over and done with. “What’s wrong with you?” You ask.

Jungkook looks down, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mutters and you nearly jump out of your body when he begins to strike the bag in quick, calculated motions. The bag moves backwards with each punch and his face tenses up, his mind clearly on one thing and one thing only. You exhale deeply, trying to stay calm. If that’s the way he’s going to play—you won’t keep your cool for long.

“Jungkook, stop,” you raise your voice over his movements and he suddenly quits, looking up at you again. “Don’t do this right now,” you say stepping closer to him again.

“What do you want Y/N, I’m busy alright,” he scoffs, stepping away from the bag, turning fully to you. You wish he didn’t look good drenched in sweat but it was hard to stay focused when he was looking like that.

“You know exactly what I want. You haven’t spoken to me in a fucking week Jungkook,” your words are fiery despite your cool demeanor.

“Is that really that big of an issue? We barely spoke for two years until recently,” he sounds annoyed, but also timid—you can sense something is bothering him.

You frown, “Yeah until recently because I thought we moved past that.”

He doesn’t say anything. And that’s what boils your blood. Tears are threatening to spill from your eyes—not from sadness, but frustration.  

“So is that it? I let you finger fuck me and now I don’t mean anything to you anymore?” Your words are seething and once you say this, Jungkook’s face softens that slightest bit.

“What? No Y/N—“

“Then what the fuck is wrong with you? What have I done?!” It takes all of you not to breakdown right there. You just got Jungkook back. You couldn’t lose him a second time.

“Y/N listen,” Jungkook takes off his boxing gloves, throwing them in the floor, “You haven’t done anything alright. It’s just—complicated,” he shakes his head, stepping closer to you. He tries to grab one of your hands but you pull away from him.

“No, no you don’t get to do that,” you say, “What happened to communicating Jungkook? Wasn’t that our issue all that time ago?”

He looks down and back up. You really wish he would put a shirt on. “I know, I know…” he wanders off, “If I could tell you I would, but I’m just under a lot of stress right now and—“

“Then tell me what’s wrong,” you don’t want to interrupt him, but you feel like you two are going in an endless circle. Jungkook steps towards you once again and this time you don’t back away from him.

“Look, I’m sorry alright. I shouldn’t have cut you off this past week—I just thought it would clear my head,” he says. With hesitation, he grabs your wrists gently, “That was stupid I get that okay? I’m sorry, especially after… what happened,” he says and you can tell he means it. Jungkook is a genuine person, you can’t argue that.

Your face warms up and you feel almost embarrassed. Were you overreacting?

“I just don’t understand,” you mutter, “I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions but Jungkook, you’re worrying me. I don’t know what’s going on with us and this whole boxing thing is keeping me awake at night.”

He intertwines your fingers together and it’s comforting. Comfort you’ve been missing ever since a week ago. “Y/N, please just trust me okay? If I can get through these next few weeks I’m set and I promise you don’t have to worry about me anymore.”

“How can you promise that?” You look up fully at him and you’re a lot closer than moments ago.

“I don’t to make promises I can’t keep.”

You sure hoped he was right.

_____

Two weeks have gone by since your talk with Jungkook in the gym. He had resumed talking to you normally, although there was still something off about him. Then again, there was something off with you too. The intimate situation the two of you found yourself in a few weeks back, still hadn’t been fully discussed and it bothered you like no other. It bothered you because you couldn’t stop thinking about it. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want it to happen again—or even further. Fuck, you shouldn’t be thinking about Jungkook like this. But don’t you have a right to? Jesus you were so confused. It’s why you have found yourself at Beta Tau Sigma once again on a Saturday night, Jennie already lost in tow somewhere, and you’re standing with Namjoon. Even though your mind was clouded with Jungkook, Namjoon was good company at keeping you distracted.

“What’s up with you lately?” Namjoon asks handing you another drink. You furrow your brows before taking a sip. Your face scrunches up at the taste—not the best.

“What do you mean?” You ask.

Namjoon gives you a straight smile, “Don’t play stupid,” he says. You don’t even try to make up a lie. Namjoon is too smart for that.

“I don’t know, Joon,” you sigh, “I’ve just been going through a lot lately I guess,” you mutter over the loud music.

“I get it,” he says, “Wanna talk about it?”

You’re about to answer him when you suddenly spot a familiar head of dark brown hair across the room. It’s Jungkook and he’s with a girl—you recognize her from somewhere. She’s standing in front of him and he’s smirking down at her and says something that makes her laugh. Then you know where you’ve seen her before—the bathroom girl. Fuck her, you don’t even realize you roll your eyes.

Namjoon laughs, “Whoa, what was that for?” He raises an eyebrow at you.

“W-what?” You look back to him and he follows where your eyes had been.

“Looking at Jungkook, eh?” He smirks, “Something going on between you two?”

You shake your head immediately, “No. Absolutely not.”

You didn’t know if that was a lie or not. Sure, Jungkook and you may have swapped some bodily fluids recently, but nothing else. You were also keeping a secret of his, one that if Namjoon found out about—would have him kicked out of the frat faster than he could blink. You glance back over to Jungkook one more time and find his eyes scanning the room. They land on you within 5 seconds and he shifts uncomfortably in front of bathroom girl.

“You sure?” Namjoon finds this situation funny. You don’t.

“Shut up,” you push on his chest slightly and he grabs your hand, pulling you towards him.

“Oh I can make you shut up,” he mumbles and you laugh as he closes the distance between the two of you. Namjoon’s lips are always soft and plump but that doesn’t mean he is always the most gentle. Namjoon is rough and sometimes—it’s just what you need. Jungkook’s lips on—

You pull away quickly from him. What the fuck?

“You okay?” He asks with concern.

You nod your head, “Yeah, I, just uh need some air,” you say. It was true—your head was now spinning and the alcohol wasn’t helping. You couldn’t believe you thought of Jungkook when kissing Namjoon.

“Alright, I’ll be by the bar.”

You leave Namjoon’s side and push your way through the hoards of people and loud music. You spot a door towards the back of the kitchen and use that as your opportunity. The air is cool but crisp. Just what you needed. There’s quite a few people outside surrounding a large bonfire keeping warm. You relax against the porch railings, staring aimlessly at the ground beneath you. You pour your drink out, knowing you don’t need to drink anymore of it. You nearly shit yourself when a voice comes up directly behind you.

“Y/N.”

You whip around, clutching your chest. “Jesus Christ Jungkook,” you say. His hands are stuffed in the pockets of his jeans, a large flannel and sweatshirt covering his torso. He approaches you hastily and you don’t take your eyes off of his.

“I didn’t know you were coming tonight,” he says, obviously trying to make small talk.

“I didn’t either until Namjoon asked me this evening,” you say and you instantly regret bringing up his name. Jungkook stiffens.

“Still good friends with him I see,” he bites his lip nervously, looking over to the bonfire. You squint your eyes at him. He sounds off and annoyed.

“I see you’re still friends with bathroom girl,” you shoot back. You’re not even drunk, barely tipsy, but the thought of Jungkook being annoyed at you and Namjoon nearly sends you. At least you know Namjoon well—the only Jungkook knows about that girl is her fucking mouth.

“Gotta an issue with that?” He runs his tongue against his mouth and he looks at your from the side.

You turn to him and this feels all too familiar. “Yeah, actually I do.”

“Well, I have an issue kissing Namjoon in front of me—are we even?” He cocks his head to the side and you’ve never felt more annoyed yet turned on at the same time.

“Whatever,” you brush him off running a hand through your hair, turning back to your front staring at the fire. “Last time I checked I don’t take orders from you.”

“I know,” he says and you feel him push his body against your side. Your breathing instantly picks up and you bite the inside of your cheek to steady yourself. One of Jungkook’s hands finds its way to your shoulder, trailing it down to your elbow, then pushing it through the crack of your arm to settle on your waist.

“Jungkook,” you say quietly, not wanting to bring any attention to the two of you. Jungkook’s head leans down, his temple brushing against yours. His hand rubs gentle circles on your waist and you inhale his scent deeply. Fuck. “Jungkook… are you drunk?”

He shakes his head, “No, are you?” You believe him. He doesn’t smell like alcohol nor does he seem tipsy.

“No,” you say. Jungkook pulls you impossibly closer to him and your throat feels like its closing up.

“Can I kiss you?” Jungkook asks and you turn your head up, your noses brushing together. What? When has he ever been this upfront? You hesitate to answer but soon nod slowly—just once—you needed to feel it again—just once again. He closes the gap between you and you nearly melt into him. One of your hands grabs his face gently, pulling him down to you. Your own hands find their way to his fluffy hair, entangling into the locks. He presses himself into you and you feel your heart beating out of your chest. You let out a small whine when he pulls on your lip with his teeth and it shakes you back to reality.

You pull away from him—your entire body on fire. He’s got you trapped against the railing and you don’t trust the old wood to support your weight much longer.

“Jungkook,” you whisper and you feel something hard pressing into your front and your throat goes dry.

“Come home with me,” he says, “Please.” Desperation. That’s what laces his tone and you’re sure your heart left from your chest. But—you know this isn’t a good idea. Blame it on being sober, but you’re not sure you should go there with Jungkook. Not right now at least. Your head was spinning and as much as you wanted to—you couldn’t.

“Jungkook,” your eyes focus on his chest, watching your hands grip his shirt gently. “I—We can’t, we shouldn’t,” you bite your lip nervously.

“Please Y/N,” he nuzzles his forehead into yours, his grip on your getting tighter, “I need you, please—“

“Jungkook, no,” you push him off of you carefully and he looks hurt and confused. “I’m sorry, I—I want to but—“

“But what?” Once again, he looks sad and maybe a little angry now? “II’m not Namjoon? Is that it?”

You shake your head, not able to find a good answer in your head. His hands drop from your side and so does your stomach. Without another glance at your frame, Jungkook walks away, pulling at the roots of his hair.

You get home alone that night. Fuck. You think you really may have messed up this time. No, Jungkook wasn’t Namjoon but Namjoon could never be Jungkook. The history the two of you have... god you were so confused. You’re not sure you’ve ever felt gravity pull you to someone more since recently, that someone being Jungkook. As confused as your feelings were, you cry some in your bed. You don’t sleep that night, worried that whatever wedge is driving itself between you and Jungkook again—won’t be fixable this time.

_____

Jungkook, maybe much not to your surprise, cuts you off again the next week. You haven’t spoken or seen him since the party. Since he wanted you to go home with him and you nearly did, but thankfully you used your head some. You missed seeing his face dearly and missed his smile even more. When did things get so complicated with you and him? Ever since fucking graduation in high school—nothing has been the same. It’s been years and years and it’s something you’ve never gotten over. The more you think about it, the obvious reasons begin to show. Maybe Jungkook means more to you than you thought? Maybe he wasn’t just supposed to be your best friend? What if you two had been destined for something else all this time? Or maybe you weren’t meant to be friends at all?

Your thoughts are interrupted when a familiar face walks into your shift at the diner. Taehyung is by himself, his backpack thrown lazily over one of his shoulders. He looks tired, but just like you, getting through the day. His eyes meet yours and give him a small smile.

“Sit wherever,” you tell him and he decides to sit along the bar, sitting across from where you stand.

“Good evening,” he gives you a small smile, running a hand over his face.

“Hey Tae,” you breathe out, handing him a menu. He holds up his hand, not wanting it.

“Just get me a latte, extra espresso please,” he says and you nod.

“Coming right up.”

It doesn’t even take you a minute to make lattes now. The process has become so familiar it’s become second nature. Mainly due to your own obsession with lattes and your determination to perfect them yourself. You top the mug off with some foam before sliding it over to Taehyung. He doesn’t wait for it to cool before taking a big gulp.

“Rough day?” You ask, leaning forward on your elbows.

“You don’t even know,” he grumbles, “I had a quiz in my hardest class today that I didn’t know about, therefore didn’t study for,” he pauses, “I had to pick up all the slack on a group project that’s due on Saturday and then I have had to deal with Jungkook’s dumbass all week and he was at his worst this morning,” he rolls his eyes.

The mention of Jungkook makes your heart flutter yet stomach feel nauseated, “What’s wrong with Jungkook?”

Taehyung raises an eyebrow at you, “Don’t you know?”

“Um… he hasn’t talked to me in a week,” you look down at your hands, your mouth dry.

“Jesus fuck,” Taehyung groans, “No wonder he’s been in such a fucking mood. What did he do?”

You weren’t sure how to go about your answer. Um, yeah, so like Jungkook wanted me to go home with him to have sex and I did too and I didn’t and I don’t know why. Sounds great.

“It wasn’t him. It was me,” you pause, “He asked me to go home with him.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen slightly, a small smirk on his face, “Did you?”

You shake your head, “No, I couldn’t bring myself to. I wanted to but…” you trail off, slightly embarrassed to be telling Taehyung this.

“Goddammit,” he nearly laughs, “No wonder he’s pissy. Between you and tomorrow, kid’s got his work cut out.” You pick up Taehyung joking around but you still furrow your eyebrows.

“What’s tomorrow?” You ask.

“The 13th. Did he not tell you?” Fuck. His fight. Without talking to Jungkook everyday, you had forgotten about the fight.

“He mentioned it.”

“Are you going?” The question catches you off guard.

“What, oh no,” you shake your head, “No, he didn’t ask and I don’t think that’s something I wanna see anyways.”

“Trust me, he wants you there,” he says, “He’s just being a dick.”

“He’s got a funny way of showing it,” you snap. “Every time something happens between us… he shuts me off. I don’t fucking get it.”

“Y/N he does this to everyone when he’s stressed,” Taehyung pauses, “Especially since, you know,” he shrugs. The fights.

You nod, “I get it,” you slump, “It’s still frustrating.”

“You don’t have to tell me that—at least you don’t live with him,” he gives you a laugh and you send a smile in return.

“How do you feel about it?” You ask him genuinely, “The boxing I mean…”

Taehyung squints his eyes briefly, “I think it’s stupid personally,” this answer warms your heart until he continues, “But if I was as good as Jungkook I would probably do it too. The money in these things are insane.”

You raise your eyebrows, “So I’ve heard.”

Taehyung nods before he gets a text on his phone. He reads it before smiling.

“Your girlfriend?” You probe curiously.

He clears his throat, “Uh, yeah,” he responds quickly before turning his phone over. “So, what exactly is going on between you two?”

“Uh, what do you mean?” You laugh sarcastically.

Taehyung deadpans his face, “You know what I mean. I know you guys have this weird chemistry, it’s obvious. Plus he hasn’t shut up about you since you started tutoring him. Y/N this, Y/N that… it’s disgusting.”

Did Jungkook really talk about you?

“Ask him, not me because I don’t even fucking know. I could tell you what Kim Namjoon and I are before I could define mine and Jungkook’s relationship.” You let out a laugh and other eye roll.

“I’m assuming you and hyung are… what do they say? Friends with…?”

“Yeah yeah whatever you wanna call it,” you swat your hand slightly embarrassed.

“Jungkook hates it you know,” he says, switching tones. “You and Namjoon.”

You slightly snort, “And why is that?” You could tell Jungkook didn’t like seeing you with Namjoon, even before last weekend after he voiced it.

“Because he knows Namjoon is the type of guy you’ve always wanted, not him.” This takes you completely off guard.

“Why would Jungkook care about that?” You furrow.

Taehyung shrugs, staying silent this time. You weren’t stupid—you knew what Taehyung was implying by saying what he said. It makes your stomach drop. Maybe Jungkook felt more for you than he supposed to as well?

“So are you gonna come tomorrow?” He asks.

“No Taehyung,” you say, “I don’t want to see Jungkook get the shit beat out of him.”

“Jungkook won’t get the shit beat out of him, I can promise you that.”

You eyes glance over to the door as a small group of people walk into the diner. You don’t say anything else to Taehyung as you walk over to greet them. You seat them and make your way back to Taehyung, but you can’t chat much longer as you now have a table to tend to.

“Listen Y/N,” Taehyung stops you before you can walk back over with menus for the group, “If you wanna come, just text me. Like I said Jungkook wants you there, whether he’s said so or not. Also, another latte please, you’re slacking woman.”

You swat him with the menus before walking away from him. Goddamn, these next 24 hours were going to be hell.

_____

You couldn’t remember the last time you were ever this nervous for someone aside from yourself in a very long time. You remember how nervous you were in high school when you got injured and Jennie had to double with a girl on the bench of the tennis team. You remember being nervous for your parents when you left for college. And now, you don’t ever recall a moment in your life where you have been this nervous for Jeon Jungkook of all people.

It was Friday at 3:43 PM and you day was slow but painless, and you had no official plans set for the evening. Taehyung had texted you, wondering if you wanted to hitch a ride along with him to the match. You had yet to answer him. His text mocking you from your screen and you wanted to pretend that you knew nothing of the boxing match but that was impossible.

[You 3:59 PM] What time should I be ready

You send the message before you could regret it and delete it. Jennie has yet to be home from going to the store and you would need a good, yet believable excuse for your absence tonight.

[Taehyung 4:00 PM] i’ll pick you up around 8

[You 4:00 PM] Sounds good. Have you spoken to Jungkook today?

[Taehyung 4:02 PM] no he’s been quiet all day. have you?

[You 4:02 PM] Nope

You don’t receive another text from him and you slump down on your couch. It had been nearing two full weeks since Jungkook had spoken to you. You felt like all of this was your fault, sending him mixed signals and unsure of your own feelings for him. From the secretive finger fuck to the gentle kiss you shared last week, Jungkook was on your mind 24/7—aside from taking exams of course—but he was all you could think about lately. Growing up, you obviously loved Jungkook and was practically glued to his hip, but even then you don’t recall thinking about him every single fucking second.

You pull at the roots of your hair and let out a frustrated groan. Maybe you should reach out? After all, without your initiation of friendship all those years ago, you wouldn’t be here now.

You pick up your phone and find Jungkook’s contact and before you can stop yourself, you tap the call button. Your hands are clammy and you know he probably won’t answer, but it’s worth a try. The line rings for about thirty seconds before it goes dead. That dumbass doesn’t even have voicemail set up.

Pissed off even more, you slam your phone against the coffee table and let out an exasperated ‘fuck’ before going to your room to take a nap. Fuck Jeon Jungkook, is the last thought you have before you drift off into sleep.

_____

Taehyung picked you up at 8:02, though you told Jennie it was Namjoon who picked you up and the two of you were having a night in. You think she believed it but left her before she could ask anymore questions.

“I just don’t fucking get it Taehyung, one second he’s fine and another he’s like a child throwing a fit,” you filled Taehyung in on how you tried to call him but to no avail.

“You don’t have to tell me how he is Y/N, I fucking live with the guy,” he groans from his drivers seat. “I just think he’s going through a lot right now… with school, his parents, the boxing, you… he’s never handle stress that well you know that.”

You let out a sigh, leaning against the window, “It’s just so frustrating trying to help him only to get cut off like this…”

Taehyung looks at you with an eyeful glance though you don’t notice. “Y/N, in his eyes you’ve cut him off too, you do realize that right?”

You furrow your eyebrows. “What? No I haven’t?”

“Come on the little brat can’t keep his mouth shut. I know what happened with you two a couple weeks ago,” he says. You don’t say anything, cheeks getting warm. “And the weeks before that on our fucking balcony—“

“Okay what then Tae!” You interrupt him, too embarrassed by the memory.

“Jungkook is trying Y/N,” he says with a hint of a smirk, “He thinks you’re rejecting him,” Taehyung says matter-of-factly.

“Rejecting? C’mon Taehyung you know that I—“

“I know that you and Jungkook like each other, even though neither one of you have said anything, Jennie says it too.”

You narrow your eyebrows at your friend. “I don’t know what I think about Jungkook okay?” You’re being honest. You know you like Jungkook… but you’re scared of what that entails for the future. You want Jungkook in your future, you just don’t know what the right path is.

Taehyung doesn’t say anything else as he pulls his car into a fairly full parking garage. It’s dimly lit and slightly freaks you out. Taehyung had to drive to the other side of the city to get here and you don’t recognize the neighborhood around.

“Stay close to me, alright?” Taehyung opened your door for you and you nod without any argument. You follow Taehyung out of the parking garage into the chilly air and you huddle by his side. The two of you walk down a couple streets before he turns down a dark, dimly lit alleyway.

“Taehyung what the fuck,” you whisper and come to a halt. His brown eyes bleed into yours despite the darkness and he takes your hand into his.

“It’s okay,” he says reassuringly, “I promise.”

You nod reluctantly and the you continue to walk down the alley, coming to a stop at the end where you spot the familiar face of Min Yoongi. He’s standing down a small flight of stairs beneath you two and he greets Taehyung with a stiff smile.

“Taehyung, what’s up,” he says, his eyes immediately looking over at you, “Y/N?”

You tighten your grip around Taehyung’s hand, Yoongi’s stare quite intimidating.

“She should be on Jungkook’s list.”

You stay quiet knowing Taehyung doing the talking is the best strategy. Yoongi looks down at a clipboard—old fashioned but effective you guess—before nodding.

“You guys are good. Hurry and find a seat, there’s a lot of people down here tonight.”  

“You got it,”  Taehyung gives him a small smile before you drag behind him down the stairs and enter through a heavy door. You already hear plenty of commotion as you enter a huge space a few feet from the door. Your eyes look around and you could see nearly a hundred people just in your line of sight.

“Holy shit,” Taehyung says.

“What?” You get nervous by his tone.

“I’ve never seen this many people here, goddamn.”

“Why are there so many people here?” You spot a large boxing ring, dead center of the room and your mouth goes dry.

“I guess people like rematches?” Taehyung raises an eyebrow at you.

“Where’s Jungkook?” You ask, noticing how some eyes are staring at you, making you shift uncomfortably in your boots.

“Probably in the locker rooms… wanna see him?” He asks.

You bite your lip. “Does he wanna see us?” You hope Taehyung says yes. It’s killing you inside not being able to see him, hear him.

“Guess we’ll find out, c’mon,” he smirks and you follow him closely. As you look around, you do notice people you somewhat recognize. Whether it’s from walking around on campus or some of your classes, all these faces are not too unfamiliar. Taehyung takes you away from the crowd of people, through another set of doors and down another hallway. With this much walking and standing, you would have worn something other than booties. You enter the “locker room” area and you suddenly feel queasy. What if Jungkook is mad that you’re here? What if he doesn’t want to see you after all? What if—

“Y/N?” Your thoughts are broken by a honey-like voice and you focus in on the source. Jungkook sits a few feet away from you and Taehyung, back leaning against a wall. He looks confused, but also pleasantly surprised. “What are you doing here?” He gets up and does the unexpected—he embraces you in a tight hug. You return it without a second though, holding him close to you. He pulls away from you after a few moments and gives Taehyung a small hug too.

“Hey,” you say shyly.

“How are you feeling?” Taehyung asks his friend and Jungkook shrugs.

“I’m alright.” Jungkook looks at you again. “I didn’t think you’d ever come to one of these,” he laughs awkwardly.

“Me either,” you say with no expression. As much as you wanted to be happy—you couldn’t. You were pissed at Jungkook for ignoring you and you were pissed that Jungkook was about to fight. You eye his frame, a white t shirt and navy sweatpants hang low on his hips. He looks calm, too calm for your liking.

“Will you give us a minute?” Jungkook suddenly turns to Taehyung and he nods glancing at you.

“I’ll get some seats.”

Taehyung leaves you and Jungkook alone and you nearly feel like crying. What the fuck is this mess?

“Y/N listen to me,” Jungkook says stepping towards you, “I’m so sorry about thess past two weeks. I-I’ve been a dick for no fucking reason and it’s not fair to you.”

You don’t say anything as you stand there with your arms crossed over your chest.

“Fuck I know I’m idiot and there’s no excuse… I’ve just been so stressed lately and you’re the best fucking part of my day—“

“Well why don’t you fucking act like it Jungkook? I’m sick of something happening between us and you acting like a I don’t exist for god knows what reason,” you raise your voice slightly.

“Y/N I,” he pauses, his hands finding their way to your shoulders, “I haven’t been honest with you and,” he pauses again and you feel your heart speed up. What’s he talking about? “I just wanna say—“

“Jungkook, you got five minutes,” the two of you turn to Park Jimin who seemed to come in at the wrong time.

“Fuck,” he says, “We’ll talk after okay?”

You nod hesitantly and before you can push yourself away from him, Jungkook places a kiss on your forehead and it makes your insides melt. Fuck, you meet his brown eyes, biting your lip nervously. 

A revelation springs into your mind; you think you might love him. He pulls you in for another hug, though this is one much shorter as Jimin is ushering you out of the locker room in the blink of an eye.

As much as you wanted to be mad at Jungkook, those thoughts had quickly subsided and replaced with butterflies and nausea. Did you really love Jungkook? You always have, but the feeling in the pit of your heart is pulling you to a different type of love. You cared about him, sometimes even more than yourself. You’ve always wanted the best for him, even if that meant sacrificing your feelings in the process. Now you were stuck between a rock in a hard place, much like you were back in high school when you had a crush on Jungkook. Fuck. And now you have to watch him fight someone like dogs,  

You shake yourself from your thoughts, as loud music flows through your ears and you look around for Taehyung. Luckily, his ashy hair color is easy to spot amongst the crowd and you push yourself to him, squeezing in between bodies and their chatter.

“My bet’s on Jeon,” a voice says.

“Fuck no, Eric isn’t gonna let the same guy beat him twice.”

You try to ignore the snide comments about Jungkook and when you get to Taehyung, he greets you with a smile.

“Hey, everything good?” He asks.

You lick you dry lips, “I don’t know,” you say honestly. Taehyung’s eyes drop and he nods. 

Suddenly, all the lights go out in the venue and a roar of screams and cheers fills the void. You stay still, pressing your body close to Taehyung. It’s not that you feel unsafe, but this environment—it wasn’t for you at all. You heart rate quickens when a man, give a few years on your age, gets into the boxing ring before you, the crowd cheering even louder for him. He bumps a microphone with his palm before bringing it to his mouth.

“Welcome, welcome!” He beams with a smile, “What an outstanding turnout we have tonight! You guys choose a good one to watch because tonight is the rematch of two of the best fighters I’ve seen in a long time…”

“Let’s give a welcome to our first fighter, weighing in at 148 pounds, 5 foot 11, Jeon Jungkook!”

Being an underground fighting ring, there isn’t a posse escorting Jungkook to the ring. He’s got Jimin by his left side, Min Yoongi on the right. Jungkook is shirtless, wearing only a pair of navy shorts, black and white boxing gloves on his hands. He enters the ring with cheers and you inhale and exhale deeply. You look up at Taehyung and he gives you a nod of reassurance to calm down. Jungkook jumps around in place a few times, shaking his arms and shoulders out. From your seat, you can’t read his eyes or facial expression—but he looks calm and unnerved.

“Coming in next, weighing in at 145 pounds, 6 feet tall, Kim Eric!”

Jungkook’s opponent walks in next, three guys surrounding him. He walks slow and steady, his bare chest tattooed beautifully, his boxing gloves a dark red. He enters the ring to cheers and this Eric guy’s gaze doesn’t leave Jungkook’s body one time. Jungkook hasn’t spared one glance at the guy and you find yourself somewhat smiling. Jungkook has always been a cocky-fuck when it’s come to sports which would usually annoy you, but here right now—he looked hot as fuck standing there as if he had no care in the world. Jungkook stands on the left corner of the ring, sitting on a small stool as Jimin and Yoongi talk to him. Jungkook nods, absorbing their information. Eric and his guys do the same.

Suddenly, both men stand and Jimin is putting a mouth guard in Jungkook’s mouth and with one last nod, he finally looks over at Eric, who has already made his way to the center of the ring with the announcer. Jungkook stalks over slowly, his eyes dark and hungry.

“Alright guys, I want a clean fight. No kicking, no cheap shots. If you get knocked down, I give you ten seconds to get up. You look me in the eyes and say you’re good before anymore fighting happens alright. We go for five rounds, unless more is needed. A knockout wins. Touch gloves.”

Jungkook sticks out his gloves for Eric but Eric only stares at him, ignoring the sign of solidarity.

“Fuck you,” Eric says to Jungkook and sends a chill down your spine. Jungkook rolls his eyes, backing away from him, but stays silent.

“Alright… ready… fight!”

Time slows as a bell rings loudly, the cheers get even louder, and you find yourself gripping Taehyung’s arm for support. Jungkook starts to move around the ring slowly, but Eric isn’t having that—immediately rushing to Jungkook to get a few jabs in. Jungkook manages to dodge them perfectly before Eric can corner him. Jungkook keeps his gloves high and never looks away from Eric. Eric comes after Jungkook again, jabbing once—twice—the third time hitting Jungkook square in the face.

“Shit,” you breathe out, eyes widening.

This time, Jungkook comes for Eric, his jabs coming quick and calculated, landing Eric in the body once. Jungkook jabs again and hits him in the face. Eric moves around quickly, Jungkook not quick to follow him. Eric comes after him again, Jungkook blocking his jabs, but missing at the end, leading to Jungkook getting hit in the face once again as well as a body shot.

Eric is coming in hot, throwing punches and jabs left and right, making Jungkook dance around to dodge them. After a few moments, Jungkook begins to fight back, landing Eric square in the face twice. You notice that Jungkook must have busted Eric’s lip as blood now protrudes from his mouth. This seems to send Eric into overdrive and attacks Jungkook quick and fast. You cover your mouth when Eric has Jungkook trapped against the rope, landing body punches after body punches.

“Alright!! Enough, break it up!!” The announcer gets Eric off of Jungkook and Eric starts to laugh in a very showman's way. Jungkook is breathing heavy and he tilts his head—a habit of his that comes out when he’s frustrated or angry. This seems to be both.

Jungkook and Eric continue to throw jabs at one another. Within a few seconds, the whole fight seems to change as Eric manages to slip past one of Jungkook’s blocks and lands him straight on the cheekbone. Jungkook’s body almost freezes before he falls back on the floor and you gasp at the sight.

“Fuck! Taehyung—“

“He’s fine, he’s fine,” he says but his eyes never met yours.

The announcer is on the floor with Jungkook counting down from ten and Jungkook finally sits up when he reaches the number four.

“You good son?” The guy asks Jungkook.

He nods, “Yeah, let’s go.”

Jungkook gets up and walks around, stretching his neck around, waiting for the ref to announce the second round.

“That’s what you get motherfucker,” Eric says walking past him to his corner. Again, Jungkook says nothing before sitting down. Jimin takes out his mouth guard and lets Jungkook drink some water.

“Why is Jungkook letting him hit him like that?!” You ask Taehyung, looking up to him, “He’s getting his ass kicked!”

Taehyung shakes his head, “Jungkook’s smart Y/N… he’s trying to run Eric’s energy out. If Eric keeps swinging the way he right now, he’ll be passed out on his own soon.”

The second round commences and this time, it’s Jungkook who comes out fast. Jungkook soon has Eric trapped against the rope, landing jab after jab. The ref intervenes and lets them get some air. Jungkook’s skin is sweaty and red hot and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him look as mad as he does right now.

Eric counters quickly, catching up with Jungkook again, landing punch after punch. Jungkook escapes but Eric sticks out a foot, causing Jungkook to trip. The whole crowd—yourself included—start to yell at the action. The referee pulls Eric back and points his finger at him. You can’t hear what he’s saying, but you know it’s a scolding by the way his mouth is moving quickly. You look over at Jungkook who shakes his head disapprovingly. He’s talking to Jimin as Yoongi cares to a cut on Jungkook’s eyebrow.

“He’s a fucking asshole,” you make out Jungkook saying.

The third round starts and it seems both Eric and Jungkook are equally fighting this time. Jungkook’s combinations are cleaner than Eric’s, anyone can see that, but the way Eric keeps landing in on Jungkook—makes you feel like this isn’t going to end well for him.

“Come on Jungkook!” You find yourself yelling in the chaos, your whole body shaking as Jungkook dances around the ring to get away from Eric. Eric has him trapped again, but with Jungkook’s strength, gets Eric off of him to turn the tables. There’s sweat and blood coming off both fighters and it’s got to be the most horrifying thing you’ve ever seen.

“Come on you little bitch,” Eric spits at Jungkook, “Is that all you’ve fucking got?”

Jungkook says nothing again, jabbing when he needs to.

“Fucking hell why won’t you speak to me you fucker?” Eric speaks again.

“I don’t have shit to say to you,” Jungkook finally retorts back. “You lost my respect when you sent those pussies to jump Park and I.”

Eric swings hard and Jungkook ducks, barely missing it by an inch. Eric is tired, Jungkook too, but Jungkook can see a weakness in him now.

“Come on it was all in good fun,” he says with a smirk, “You know what else would be good fun?”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything.

“Kicking your ass,” he pauses and before Jungkook can do anything else, Eric swings down hard, landing on Jungkook’s body knocking the breath out of him. Jungkook stumbles backwards, holding his stomach, he lands again on the ground with a clunk. Eric stands over him, before taking out his mouthpiece, “And stealing your bitch you invited tonight.”

“Goddammit,” you mutter watching the scene unfold in front of you. No one knows what they’re saying to each other over the noise and you honestly couldn’t care. You just want Jungkook to get up and finish this shit.

Jungkook stands up, though with a visible wince in his face. He’s breathing heavy and is filled with pure rage. The fourth bell rings and it doesn’t take long for Jungkook to attack him. Jungkook is fast and furious, landing punch after punch and you’ve never been happier for someone to get their ass kicked. Jungkook lands a punch straight across the face, causing Eric to stumble backwards. Even though you know nothing about boxing, Eric looks exhausted where Jungkook looks ready for more. With everything left in Eric, he starts coming after Jungkook. Jungkook blocks until he can’t block no more, but something in Jungkook’s stance changes. Jungkook steps forward, his right hand landing straight on Eric’s face cause his form to break. Jungkook steps quickly again, his left hand bringing an uppercut to Eric’s jaw.

The room nearly falls silent as Eric loses balance, going down straight on his back and head. When he hits the ground, the room erupts in a roar so loud it nearly deafens you.

“Holy shit!” Taehyung exclaims. The ref is down on the ground, counting down from 10, and then it’s at 5 and then 3 and then—

“Ladies and gentlemen, Jeon Jungkook wins this rematch!” The ref grabs Jungkook’s hand and holds it up over his head and you find yourself jumping up and down, pulling Taehyung down for a hug.

“Taehyung oh my fucking god!” You exclaim. He smiles brightly at you.

“I told you, he knows what he’s doing,” he says and you nod. You couldn’t deny it now—as stupid as Jungkook was for getting involved in this, his talent for the sport was extraordinary. “Come on, let’s get to his locker room,” Taehyung pulls you by your hand and you make your way back to where you were earlier.

Jungkook hasn’t arrived yet, but you find Yoongi already in there, setting out a first aid kit.

“Hey guys,” he says, “Great fight, huh?”

“Yeah, it was brilliant,” Taehyung says. The door opening catches your attention and Jungkook walks through with Jimin.  Your eyes instantly meet and you can’t even stop yourself from running to him and throwing your arms around him. He exhales deeply with a sharp wince, returning your bone crushing grip with his own.

“Alright lovebirds, he needs to get fixed up,” Yoongi’s voice interrupts you two. You hesitantly let him go and he sits down in front of Yoongi, sitting forward on his knees. He’s still breathing heavy, dripping sweat everywhere.

“Fucking hell Jungkook, since when do you box southpaw?” Taehyung pushes his shoulder slightly and Jungkook only laughs as Yoongi wipes away the blood on his eyebrow.

“I’ve been working on it for awhile,” he says, “Just never had the right time to use it… until tonight at least,” he says giving you a glance. “Eric is all talk, no bite. I can’t fucking stand him.”

“Well, I don’t think you’ll be boxing him again anytime soon,” Jimin says, “He’s embarrassed himself twice now.”

“Yeah, agreed,” Yoongi chimes in, placing one of those bandaids that pull the skin together like stitches above Jungkook’s eyebrow. “No one will want to box you now knowing you can southpaw.”

Jungkook looks at you and you furrow your eyebrows at him. He said he wasn’t going to fight after this, but the way they are talking—it sounds as if he is.

“Well, I think my boxing career is probably over after tonight,” Jungkook speaks up as if he could read your mind. He tears his eyes away from you as the others look confused.

“What?!”

“Why?”

“Jungkook c’mon!”

“Guys,” he breathes out, “I made a promise, okay? Besides, I have enough money now, I don’t need anything else.”

Your features soften as you listen to his words. His promise was to you. A smile grows on your face as you watch his body calm down from his intensified state. Once Yoongi is finished, he packs everything up. The five of you talk amongst yourselves before Taehyung turns to you.

“You ready to go home?” He asks.

“I can take you home,” Jungkook says before you can answer.

“Okay,” you give him a small smile that he returns.

“Okay then, I’m gonna head out, I won’t be home tonight Jungkook,” he says.

“I know I know, at your girlfriends,” Jungkook swats his hand and Taehyung flips him off before leaving.

Jungkook stands up throwing on a shirt and slipping into Birkenstocks. “Come on,” he says to you, holding out his head. You gladly take it and it feels more like home than home ever has.

_____

“Fuck Jungkook, how much money is this?” You ask him as he hands you a white envelope as he unbuckles himself in the driver seat. The envelope is thick and you peak out of curiosity, your jaw dropping.

“I told you,” he says snatching it back from you, “As much food as I’ve bought you lately, hopefully this will last.”

You swat at his sarcastic comment before letting out a laugh. Instead of going home, you asked Jungkook to go anywhere but there. You’re parked outside of his apartment complex, which was fine with you. The two of you needed to talk. Not much talking goes on as a silence falls between you two.

“Y/N.”

“Jungkook.”

The two of you laugh as you speak at the same time.

“You first,” you say, turning your body to face him fully.

He takes a deep breath before speaking, “I know I said it earlier but I really am sorry about this past week. There’s not an excuse that justifies me acting like a complete dick to you, especially when you’ve been nothing but nice to me.”

You stay quiet, unsure of what to say.

“And when I said you’re the best part of my day… I fucking mean it. I’m sorry for coming onto you like I have, I just,” he doesn’t finish, his eyes looking everywhere but you.

“Jungkook,” you get his attention again, reaching over the console to grab his hand, “Don’t apologize for that. Yeah, you’ve been a dick each time something happens between us but that’s the apology I care about.”

“I just don’t know how to say it,” he mutters, caressing your hand gently.

“So you’re really not going to box anymore?” you inquire. Jungkook was good, more than good... it couldn’t be easy giving up on that. 

He shakes his head, “No. I told you I didn’t want you worrying about me anymore. I keep my promises,” his smile his sweet and you swear your feel yourself melting more and more into his touch. 

“Jungkook,” you let out a deep sigh, “I didn’t realize how much I needed you in my life until we became friends again. You know almost everything about me and I don’t want anyone else to ever take your place…”

It’s hanging there by a thread—the words on your tongue—and you’re not sure you can say them and they feel constricting—but you know you have to and—

“I love you,” the words come from your mouth and you feel like you could puke. “I don’t know when or why, but I’m in love with you Jungkook. You’re all I think about anymore and I don’t want anyone else when you’re right here.”

Jungkook parts his mouth, staring at you with a look you can’t read. Fuck, you fucked this up for sure.

“Shit—I know that was so rushed and stupid. Fuck I’m an idiot—“

“Y/N,” Jungkook’s voice interrupts you and you try to hide within your own body from embarrassment. With your hand of yours in his, he pulls on it, forcing you closer to him. You look at him wide eyed before he presses his lips against yours firmly. As usual, his lips feel so good and you melt into him. This is good right? What the hell is going on? You pull away from him after a few moments, an unsure look on your face.

He nuzzles his nose against your own before speaking, “I’ve wanted to tell you that since the night of our graduation.”

“Really?” You ask as you feel your palms sweat, heart racing.

He nods, “I’ve been in love with you for god knows how long now.”

A smile creeps upon your face and you let out a sigh of relief. Jungkook watches you with interest, tucking some of your hair behind your ear.

“I can take you home whenever,” he says quietly.

You’re quick to shake your head,  “No, it’s okay… I can stay, if you want,” your voice trails off and you suddenly feel shy under his gaze.

You don’t notice how Jungkook bites his lip but he does say, “Yeah. Of course.”

_____

Jungkook’s apartment is how you remember it, though a lot quieter without Taehyung here. You’re sure the reason Jungkook’s apartment is spotless is because of him. He has always been clean and organized and Taehyung… well he was Taehyung.

“I’m gonna get in the shower, my room is in here if you wanna chill,” Jungkook says and you give him a small nod. He rids his shirt before he even closes the bathroom door and it makes you gulp. This is new territory for the both of you. The two of you just admitted your love for one another and you’re about to spend the night with Jungkook? And not in a friend way? Jesus Christ you could be tripping.

You walk into Jungkook’s room and it smells just like him. His bed is neatly made and his desk is sprawled with two computer monitors and some notebooks from school. His walls are decorated as you’d expect—a Korean flag hanging, a ‘Saturday’s Are For The Boys’ flag—typical—and a few Beta Tae Sigma plaques scattered. What catches your eye is a wall of neatly lined photos taped to the wall. You look around at all of them with a smile. Most of them are Jungkook and his frat brothers, Taehyung, a few of his older brother, there’s even a picture of you, him, Taehyung, and Jennie from high school. One that catches your eye the most is one of just you and him. It’s an old picture but the memories from that day flood your mind. It was from your first week of freshman year here at university. Both of your smiles are wide and you two are hugging each other’s frames closely. Jennie took the picture you remember. It makes you smile to yourself, butterflies entering in your stomach. Did you love Jungkook then and didn’t know it? The way you’re looking at him in the picture would say so.

You suddenly feel an urge to be close to him again. You’ve never been a ballsy person but as you look back at the bathroom door that’s closed, your desire to be touched again by Jungkook again overwhelms your senses. Closing your eyes briefly, you don’t need much more convincing before your stripping yourself of your jacket and shoes. You kick off your jeans and sweater, leaving you only in your undergarments. You tip toe to the bathroom, grabbing the handle, opening it easy.

The shower water is loud and there’s steam in the small quarters. Jungkook is humming to himself as you start to take off the rest of your clothing. With a deep breath, you grab the shower curtain, pulling it back. Jungkook’s back is facing you but he hears you instantly.

“Shit Y/N you scar—“ he stops mid sentence as he takes in your naked frame getting in the shower too.

“Hi,” you mumble meeting his eye contact.  

“H-hey,” he nearly chokes on his own air, trying to keep his eyes up from your breasts.

“Scooch,” you smirk at him to move to get underneath the water too. He does as you say watching you curiously. You’re in the process of wetting your hair when his chest is pressed firmly against your back.

“This wasn’t expected,” he says into your ear, his hands moving to grip your waist from behind.

“You’re the one that wanted me to go home with you,” you say giving him an innocent glance over your shoulder. He laughs biting his lip, pressing them against the skin behind of your ear. You lean into the physical contact, feeling almost all of your stress go away instantly.

You spin around to look at him fully as it’s a frenzy whose mouth collides with whose. He leans down to grasp your lips in their entirety, pulling you closer to him than you ever have been. He pulls you away from the water so it doesn’t get in your face as he presses you against the shower wall. His tongue dips in and out of your mouth, his hands free roaming over your breasts and down to your ass, whatever he likes within the moment. Your hands grip his dark locks as he moves his mouth from your mouth, to your neck, down to your chest. He waste no time taking your right nipple in his mouth and you exhale deeply at the feeling.

You pull his face back to yours, kissing him again not able to get enough of his lips. His hands trail down from your ass to the front of your thighs, getting closer and closer to your wet center.

“Is this okay?” He asks as his fingers rub slowly back forth between your entrance. You can barely speak as his touch is setting you on fire but you manage to nod.

“Yes, please, Jungkook,” you say. He enters one finger, then another stretching you out nicely. Fuck you forgot how good this felt with him.

“Fuck you’re so wet,” he breathes heavily and you glance down at his hardening cock. Your mouth waters at the sight. Jungkook lifts one of your legs and starts to take his fingers in and out of you slowly and agonizing. He fingers you deep and rough and you can already feel a climax coming.

“Shit,” you croak out as Jungkook rubs one of your nipples, kissing your neck. There’s a pain at the back of your head at his force pushing you against the wall but it’s easy to ignore when it feels so good below your waist. “Jungkook, I’m gonna come,” you say as the snap inside of you is about to break.

“Come on baby,” his voice is deep and groggy. As if on cue, you feel your climax wash over you and you’re not shy to be loud. You know no one is here so it doesn’t bother you one bit. Jungkook kisses you against feverishly as he pulls his fingers from you. You feel impossibly empty but you know what you want to do and you’re not near anywhere tired. Your hands travel down to his front, grasping his hard dick in your hands. God, he’s so big.

“Oh fuck,” Jungkook seethes through his teeth as you pull on the sensitive skin, all the way from his pubic hair down to the tip. He places a hand beside of your head, leaning forward against your forehead. His eyes are shut tightly and you lick your lips, wanting to take him in your mouth.

You push him away from you slightly and move down to your knees, your face front and center with his beautiful dick. You take no time to put him in your mouth which causes Jungkook to groan loudly.

“Y/N,” he says looking down at you. He’s never seen a better sight. You make sure to keep eye contact as you bob your head up and down his shaft. While one of Jungkook’s hands stays against the wall, his other grips your hair, fisting it into a makeshift ponytail. “Oh fuck—He pulls on your hair and it only makes you want to please him more. Your left hand go to his balls, the right helping you up and down his length. He pulls your hair again and you take as much of him as you can. His tip reaches the back of your throat and you gag around his length and Jungkook thinks he could actually cry. Watching you through half open lids, he decides this isn’t how he is going to come—not tonight at least.

He grabs your hair and pulls you away from him and you’re slightly confused when he brings you to your feet.

“Come on, I need to be inside of you,” he says and you nod eagerly as he turns off the shower. He leads you out of the bathroom in a frenzy, pulling up into his bedroom. You shut the door behind you and he pins you against it, kissing you hard and deep.

Both of you are dripping wet but neither of you care to dry off as he carries you to his bed. You settle on his lap as his hands rest on your waist tightly. Your hands grip his face just as tight but you’re careful not to touch his injury above his brow. You couldn’t believe he was just fighting two hours ago—that seemed like forever ago compared to now. A lot can change in a short period of time and it makes you slightly chuckle against his mouth.  

“What?” He breaks the kiss asking you with a hazy grin.

You shake your head, “Nothing,” you smile pushing his hair from his forehead. You liked seeing it. “I love you,” you repeat. And you probably won’t stop, ever.

“I love you too,” he says, “So much.”

“Let me ride you,” you whisper in his ear and his eyes light up like a child. “Are you clean?” You ask him. 

He nods quickly, “You?” You nod in response and both of you feel excited and anxious. 

You rub your hand against his length again and you hold it up as you adjust yourself to sit on him. As soon as his tip enters you, a shiver runs down your spine. As you sink yourself lower, groans come from both of your mouths, a deep moan erupting from you when you bottom out.

“Oh my god,” you breathe in and out to control yourself.

“Ride me baby,” he says and you start to move your hips against his. He fills up every inch of you and it feels so good. Your hips lift away from his and he chases them with his own thrusts. He kisses your neck as you throw your head back, your hands digging into his shoulders for leverage.  

“Fuck Jungkook,” you say seeing stars in your eyes, “You feel so good,” you whine.

“You have no idea,” he says against your sticky skin, one of his hands bruising into your waist helping you ride him in a fluid motion. “Goddammit,” he says.

As you grind against him, your clit rubs against his pubic hair, sending your toes curling. He senses that you’ve found your sweet spot against him and places his thumb there instead to rub the sensitive bud.

You feel yourself inching closer and closer to a second climax when Jungkook stalls your motion.

“Lay on your stomach,” he breathes and you do as he says climbing off of him quickly. He doesn’t even give you time to get there all the way before he’s grabbing your hips to pull your ass to him. He slides right into you and you nearly scream into his mattress. Your hands grip the sheets as he fucks you deeper from behind. He smacks your ass once, twice sending a loud whine from your mouth.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you mutter trying to focus on Jungkook’s whines and small ministrations from his mouth. He reaches forward, rubbing your clit again and you want to die and go to heaven at the feeling. Neither of you try to be quiet anymore as you feel the second orgasm coming over you. You clench and unclench around Jungkook’s length as he stalls his thrusts to feel the action.

“Come inside of me,” you say, knowing both of you are clean and you have an IUD.

“Jesus,” he breathes, picking up his pace again chasing after his own high. As the sensitivity becomes too much, Jungkook finally lets go, coming deep inside of you. He holds your hips close against him, trying to deepen his climax as far as possible. The hot cum inside of you feels good and you moan at the feeling.

When Jungkook finishes completely in you, he pulls out with a sigh. You collapse against the bed, completely spent. Jungkook finds a clean rag in his pile of clean laundry and is quick to clean yourself and him up. You feel like you can barely move as Jungkook joins you in his bed. He turns you over to face him and he kisses you gently which you return happily.

“I love you,” he says for the third time tonight, kissing your nose.

“I love you too,” you entangling your legs together. The room is silent apart from your breathing and you’re about to go to sleep when he nudges you with his hand.  

“Come on,” he says.

“What?” You ask.

“Let’s actually take a shower now since someone wouldn’t let me,” he eyes you with accusation.

You squint at him before flipping him off. “Fuck off.”

_____

The next morning you wake up with Jungkook hugging you from behind, his face nuzzeled in your hair. You have no clue what the time may be, but you since it’s early by the way the birds chirp out the window. You stretch out your arms as best as you could and try to move your legs, but it doesn’t work since Jungkook’s heavy legs are tangled with your own. You’re tempted to fall back asleep but when Jungkook moves behind you, you turn to see his ruckus. You’re met with his brown eyes and you jump slightly, not expecting to see him awake. Both of you let out the faintest of laughs, not saying anything.

Jungkook leans over and kisses your lips, “Good morning.” His voice is groggy and he shuts his eyes again as you fully turn your body to his.

“Good morning,” you respond, watching the way his chest rises and falls gently. “How’d you sleep?”

“Hmm, really good,” he mumbles. You are about to join him in closing your eyes again until a loud rumble comes from your belly. Jungkook laughs.

“Hungry much?”

“Starving,” you groan, “I didn’t eat dinner last night.”

“Why not?”

“I was too nervous before your match… I thought I would yak if I ate,” you answer. Stupid, you know, but it was your train of thought last night.

He opens his eyes again, “Let’s go to the diner for breakfast… employee discount.”

You glare at him, “Is that all I am to you? A fucking employee discount,” you say saracastically.

“And my girlfriend if that helps?” He raises an eyebrow. Your cheeks heat up and you smile.

“Welllll, since my boyfriend is rich now and gets a discount, I’m assuming he’s paying.”

He smirks, “Obviously.”

“Will you take me to my place so I can change? And then we’ll go?”

He nods, his hand caressing the side of your body, “As much as I wanna stay in bed, I could really go for pancakes right now.”

“Waffles are superior,” you remark.

He frowns with a disgusted face, “Get the fuck out of my bed you heathen.”

_____

Jungkook insisted on coming up to your apartment with you because he didn’t want to wait in the car, but you know he just wants to see you change in front of him. Boys are all the fucking same.

As you fumbled with the key, the door opens and whatever Jungkook is saying to you is suddenly drowned out when you see—

“Jennie?”

“Taehyung?”

The names leave yours and Jungkook’s mouth as you watch the scene in front of you. Jennie is sitting on the counter, Taehyung in between her legs with a coffee cup in hand. Could be worse but what the fuck is going on?!

“Shit,” Jennie says pushing away Taehyung. “Hey guys,” she smiles awkwardly. You and Jungkook look at each other confused before Jungkook speaks.

“Uh, Taehyung?” He asks and Taehyung is. as red as a tomato.

“Oh fuck,” Jennie mutters shaking her head. She looks at Taehyung for backup.

Taehyung pinches his nose before speaking, “Um… we’re dating.”

You and Jungkook have the same reaction as your mouth drops.

“Jennie is your secret girlfriend?” Jungkook asks.

“Surprise,” Jennie smiles again looking at you.

You look at Jungkook and shake your head at the four of you. What a fucking cliché.

The four of you go to breakfast together that morning and it’s like old times, just with a sprinkle of something new. As long as the four of you have known each other, you’ve always had each other’s backs. Even now, with you and Jungkook and Jennie and Taehyung—you know that would never change from here on out. Turns out, Jennie just thought her and Taehyung were friends with benefits, while Taehyung was telling everyone he had a girlfriend because he was that smitten with her. The four of you laugh at the situation at hand and you couldn’t believe everyone was back together... like this. As Jungkook’s pancakes and your waffles arrive, Jungkook’s beaming smile lighting the whole room you think to yourself—this is how it’s supposed to be. 

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

[theshelbyclan]

Brotherly Discomfort

Summary: After ‘the talk’, your brothers are adamant to protect you, but you throw yet another curveball their way. Part 2 to Growing Pains

(Gif by @nofckingfighting​)  A/N: This is part 2 to my most popular fic Growing Pains and I used anon’s request: Could you do a Shelby sis story where she’s a lesbian and in love with a woman and her family doesn’t know. The family is trying to get her into an arranged marriage with a man and she can’t figure out how to tell them she’s a lesbian cause she feels they won’t except her? Sorry if that’s too much. Love your writing so much btw!! Thanks for this request babes, hope I did it justice :)  Words: 2387

*** “Right, Y/N, sit down,” Tommy sighed deeply and pointed at a single chair by the kitchen table, “We need to talk.” As you sat down, three brothers loomed over you. Tommy lit a cigarette like his life depended on it, Arthur couldn’t stand still if his life depended on it and John seemed to have forgotten what his life actually depended on, so he just stood there, unsure of everything. “We’re having another talk,” you stated. The last one, only a few days ago, was still fresh in your mind. 

“We are,” you brother confirmed. Arthur took off his cap like he was attending a funeral and stumbled, “We, uhm… We’ve had an idea.” “Christ,” Polly mumbled from behind her newspaper and you couldn’t agree more. “The thing is,” John finally spoke, “We’ve been worried after we… talked.” “Right,” you nodded, “Because of he subject of our conversation?” “It’s not just that!” your brother continued, with a slight frantic edge to his voice, “You’re growing up, but you’re still running around with the dogs at all hours. You won’t listen to anyone, do whatever you please…” Tommy continued where John faltered, “The truth is, Y/N, you’re getting to be too wild.” “Oh, fuck off, Tom,” and you got up with every intention to leave the room. “Sit down,” he said sternly, “We can’t have another Ada situation.” “Situation?” your eyebrows shot up, “What do you fucking mean by a fucking situation?” “The baby, Y/N,” Arthur explained. “I’m sorry,” you were boiling inside now, “but please explain: was the baby the problem or the man she had the baby with the problem? Or possibly, maybe, the fact that you three had no say in the matter?!” “That’s not the point,” John could feel this conversation wasn’t going as planned, “The thing is we couldn’t stop it!” Polly scoffed behind you, so at least you felt like someone was on your side. After a few moments of silence, your anger got the better of you and you slammed a hand down on the table in a very Tommy manner, “So what did you three fucking geniuses come up with?” Tommy pointed at you menacingly, “You fucking watch your mouth. You may be sixteen but I will still wash your mouth out with soap if you don’t mind that tongue…” “Minding my tongue…” you repeated, rolling your eyes, “Fine. So, what’s the plan? Arthur? John? Are we going back to the old ways and am I being married off to some good gypsy boy?” You turned around at Polly and laughed at your own joke, but when the room fell silent once again, you realised you’d hit the jackpot. Arthur had known you since the day you were born. He’d been twelve at the time and he could recognise every little expression on your face. Like when you were little, you used to scrunch up your nose just before you were about to cry for hunger. Or when you were sad, a small wobble in your chin just before the tears. Or when you were angry, a wrinkle in your forehead gave away the tantrum that was about to follow. This was happening right now. So he held up both hands and said, “Y/N, he’s from a good family…” “Nope,” you said, adamantly. “He is,” John confirmed gently, “and he has horses.” “Fucking no,” you shook your head. Tommy sighed, “We already made the deal.” “You promised your sister, just like that. That’s low, even coming from you, Thomas,” Polly’s cold voice sounded. If there was one person who could break his tough exterior, it was his aunt, “Well, what the fuck should we have done, Pol? Let her run wild, like you, eh?” But you stood up and walked over to Tommy. This was the man who had raised you, cared for you and disciplined you most of all, but right now, none of it mattered. So you slapped him hard, once. “Undo it Tommy,” you hissed, “Undo it or I’ll fucking cut you.” In the background you could hear Arthur mumble at once, “Okay, we’ll undo it…” “Give me one good reason,” your brother’s face, now only inches away, remained emotionless. You sighed and decided to throw all caution to the wind. “Anna,” you said, calmly. “What?” John asked immediately. So you repeated, voice raised, “Anna!” Three frowning brother stared at you, not understanding at all. “Remember when you asked me what hisname was, last week?” you called out exasperated. “’John’, wasn’t it?” Arthur looked at you. “No, it wasn’t fucking ‘John’, Arthur, she just said so,” John explained to his oldest brother. Tommy lit another cigarette, “What’s your point, Y/N?” You pointed at your neck where the nearly faded hickey could still be seen if you knew, “The name of the girl who gave me this is Anna.” “That would be bloody fantastic actually, because we wouldn’t have to worry anymore about a baby situation…” John squinted, “I think she’s serious…” “Oooooh fuck…” Arthur sighed, suddenly connecting the dots; “We’ve been keeping an eye on the wrong fucking people, John.” But John burst out laughing, “Didn’t see that one coming, did you, Tommy?” Slowly, your brother sat down and started smoking his second cigarette, “Pol, contact Madame Ross, tell her the wedding is off.” But Aunt Polly was having none of it, “You got us into this mess, you can fix it.” And then fear settled suddenly into the pit of your stomach. You looked at Tommy and asked softly, “Are you mad?” “Nope,” he said, head dropped down into his hands. “Disappointed?” “No, I’m not disappointed. But you should’ve told us, eh?” You shrugged, “Didn’t think you’d… approve.” “Why?” John asked, “We don’t care that you like women.” And all the love you had in you went out to your brother in that very moment. “Y/N,” Arthur started and he looked so angry that uncertainty took over again, “Why the fuck did you not tell us before we… explained?” “Because it was hilarious,” Polly commented unhelpfully. John started giggling again, “Fucking unnecessary is what it was.” “Arthur?” you asked, fear seeping into your voice. He sighed deeply, fidgeting with his hat, “It’s not the women, Y/N, I don’t care about that. It’s you and… anyone really. I don’t like the idea of you with anyone. Remember when she used to play with the coals, remember John?” “Yeah, I remember,” John smiled. “Black like the night she’d be!” Arthur remembered out loud, “Sweet and innocent.” “Well, she’s not anymore,” Polly sipped her tea. “I fucking see that and I don’t like it,” you eldest brother’s smile faded quickly. “Right,” Tommy raised his head again, “Guess we need to change our approach.” “There really no need…” you started. But he continued, ignoring you, “So you like girls, eh?” “Yep,” you confirmed meekly. “Only girls?” You nodded, “Well, one in particular.” Arthur looked at Tommy like he would have all the answers, “Now what, Tom?” You could now start to see the humour in all of it. Your brothers’ faces were an absolute picture! John could hardly contain his laughter, Tommy looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders and Arthur was filled with the absolute dread at another conversation like the one you had last week. “Oh, come on!” John called out, “I’m sure we could offer some advice!” He winked at you and a smile spread across your face. “Yeah!” you said, “I mean you all like women, right? This should be even easier!” “It’s not,” Arthur muttered. “I like women,” John said to no one in particular. “What about you, Tommy?” you asked your brother sweetly. But he just rolled his eyes and continued smoking. A part of you wanted to joke about him and Alfie, but you decided against it at the last second. “Horses?” you ventured, “Tommy, any advice on this with the famous analogy of horses? “Horses don’t really…” he waved a hand, coughed and stopped talking all together. “Well, at least you don’t have to be afraid of her getting pregnant,” John said to Arthur, who was as white as a sheet now. “That’s right,” he replied in a low voice, “but that’s my entire speech out the window, because there’s no waiting ‘till bloody marriage either…” “Well,” you tried to comfort your older brother, “You did offer me some good advice the last time, Arthur. You said there was no hurry and to not do it unless I wanted to?” “Right! I did say that. That, yes, it still stands!” Arthur looked around the kitchen triumphantly. “And John,” you continued, “you said to not put anything in my mouth unless I wanted to. Sound advice that was, now more than ever!” “Fucking hell,” Arthur crumbled again, “I can’t do this again. Tom, say something.” “Women….” Tommy started off vaguely waving his cigarette around, “they want love.” “We do.” “And they always want to take things slow.” “Can you imagine?” John interrupted, “Two women together? Must take ages…” “You’d be surprised…” you started, but when you saw your other brothers’ faces, you shut your mouth quickly. Tommy glared daggers at his brother and then turned to you, “How did you become an expert all of a sudden, eh?” “Talked to Ada,” you shrugged. “You talked to Ada…” he repeated lowly and threw his head back. “Wait,” John said suddenly, “Is this why you hate wearing dresses?” “Or why you drink whiskey like a man?” Arthur added, carefully. “That’s just because she’s a Shelby,” Polly explained matter-of-factly. “Or why you never sit on chairs?” John continued, “Or hang out at the factory all the time! Or why you always talk about votes for women…” You held up a hand to stop your brother, “None of that has anything to do with me liking women, John. That’s just… me.” “So what does have to do with you liking women?” your other brother asked in his typical low voice. “Me liking women…?” “So how does it work exactly?” John furrowed his brows, “Like, without… a man there?” “John,” Arthur warned him with a grumble. “Well, both people are enjoying themselves, for starters…” you replied in earnest. “Fucking hell,” the eldest interrupted, “She’s turning into Ada, she bloody is.” “Have you never seen two women together, Arthur?” you asked innocently, “Not even in London?” “They’re all mad bastards down in London, Y/N, the things I’ve seen there…” “Well, imagine me now.” Tommy had just taken a sip of his whiskey and practically choked on the spot, “That’s fucking it. You’re not to go near the BSA again!” “Why?” you called out, “It’s not like all the women in the world are gathered at the BSA!” “I will not have you behaving,” he struggled to find the words but finally spit, “like those fucking women in London!” “Don’t worry, Tommy,” you tried to comfort him, “I’m still… we haven’t actually…” “Oh, thank God,” Arthur sank down in his chair. “Well, when you do, just be gentle, alright?” John offered some advice, “And light a candle! Women love candles.” “Candles, check,” you noted. Tommy downed his whiskey, recomposed himself and added, “And make sure they’re in the mood first…” “To get ‘happy’,” you said, “like Arthur said last time,” “Yes,” he sighed deeply.

“Cut your nails,” John said out of the blue, “Esme told me.”

Arthur turned to his brother, “What the bloody hell do nails have to do with anything?”

“Well, it’s for when you…”

But Tommy silenced you with a gesture, “Please, Y/N, don’t.”

“Right,” and the quiet returned in the small kitchen. Well, at least now they knew, so that terrifying bit was out of the way. Apart from that, you weren’t quite sure if this was going great, because your brothers seemed absolutely petrified and slightly annoyed at your sudden revelation. Maybe it would’ve been better if you hadn’t told them. Then again, marrying a ‘good gypsy boy’ was the last thing you wanted in life. So maybe you could lighten the mood just a little.

“I have a better idea,” a sudden glint came into your eyes, “How about I offer all of you some advice!” The tables had turned already and this couldn’t possibly get any more awkward.

“Nope,” Arthur stood up and promptly marched out of the kitchen, talking to himself, “I can’t. That’s my baby sister and I just fucking can’t...”

“Arthur, where are you going?” Polly called after him, mirth clearly audible in her voice. And he replied, “I’m going to find this Anna, make sure she’s from a good family…” And then he was gone.

Tommy looked from you to Polly for a few seconds before he cleared his throat and mumbled something about business. Polly smirked at you and his face was full of annoyance at it all, “I need to get back to Dangerous. The horse. Tell me some other time, eh?”

“Tommy,” you asked carefully, “Are you sure you’re not mad about me liking women?”

“Princess, I honestly don’t give a fuck who you like,” he said, while putting on his coat and hat, “I just want to meet this Anna and if she hurts you, I’ll still kill her. None of that has changed, eh?”

This was strangely comforting to you.

And just as you were about to offer some unwanted advice, he left the kitchen in a hurry and called over his shoulder, “If you have any questions, Ada apparently has all the fucking answers!”

So you turned to your aunt, “That went well, didn’t it?”

“At least the wedding’s off.”

“Thank fuck,” you smirked and Polly smiled at you encouragingly, “You don’t mind, Aunt Pol, do you?”

“I’m with Tommy,” she said returning to her stern voice, “The fact that it’s a woman won’t make me hesitate.”

“Right,” you nodded, “She makes me happy, though.”

“Good,” Aunt Polly continued to read the newspaper, “Bring her over for tea. Let’s make the boys really uncomfortable, shall we?”

Still laughing, you stood up with the intention of getting on with your homework, when you suddenly noticed John was still sitting on the chair in the back of the kitchen.

“What do you want?” you asked him bluntly.

“I’m waiting,” he said, hands upturned, “You promised me some advice, remember?”

***

Masterlist

#Growing pains #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders #shelby!sister #sister!shelby #shelby sister #shelby sister imagine #sister shelby #shelby sis #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #arthur shelby #john shelby #john shelby x reader #polly shelby #polly gray #ada shelby #ada thorne #peaky blinders fluff #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders headcanon

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Investigations (Part 7): Ran Haitani x Fem!Reader

wc: 1.6k

tw: NSFW is you squint

masterlist

song recommendation:

You try your best to shuffle around the kitchen surreptitiously, clicking the espresso pod into the machine with a soft 'snap'.

The machine begins its duty, whirring to life before the liquid is deposited into the cup below.

Success.

Your fingers wrap around the mug and take it to the counter, where you've already prepared your milk and syrup for a quick and easy cup of coffee.

Lately, you've had to sneak and make coffee (all futile attempts ruined by Kai or Ran), but you consider today full of promise. You'd gotten the formula down so far.

"I thought I said no coffee."

Your hands hover over the cup, the steam caressing your fingers like a warm invitation. Your eyes don't move to look at Ran, but they do watch his fingers snatch the cup away from you - full of warm milk and espresso.

"Y/n, it's not good for the baby."

"Okay, but..." Your feet carry you to the sink, where Ran is pouring the concoction down the drain. "Just a taste?"

"No."

"A sip?"

"No."

"I'll make it and just stick my tongue in it once."

"No."

Ran stands firm on his opinions at all times. Especially now. Arms cross over your chest and you huff, turning away from him.

"So strict." Ran fingers slide down your neck, resting around your full hips.

"It's not just about you," he begins, kissing the space between your neck and shoulder. "I'm looking out for our child, too. You know that."

"I do," you groan.

"Now, we have a baby shower to host. Let's get ready."

_____________________________________________________________

"We thought you were gone forever!" The three women come around you and huddle close, cooing, and crying, spewing lamentations and satisfied praises that you've returned.

Sanzu - out of the kindness of his heart - planned the baby shower, and you're at his house, eating cake with your friends and consuming hors d'oeuvres. But when you find a free moment, you corner Ran in the kitchen.

"Did you tell the others?"

"Tell them what?" Ran tilts his head at you and leans onto the counter, frowning. Your face smoothes out into an expression of disappointment, and you sigh.

Of course, he hadn't.

It's still your job to carry this terrible secret. It's still your job to bury your deepest, darkest knowing, all while the other girls are parading about like their husbands aren't killers and extortionists.

"Hey, y/n! It's time to open the presents!"

_____________________________________________________________

The water surrounding your figure is warm, full of bubbles and Epsom salt, as well as a little bath bomb that Ran bought - well, he bought sixteen, but that's beside the point.

"Feeling okay? Is it too hot?" You look over to the man sitting on the toilet seat, his elbows resting on his knees as he observes you pour water over your belly.

"It's fine," you murmur, blinking slowly. "Feels good."

"Want to turn on the jets or--"

"I want to join Bonten." Ran's face drops, his violet eyes clouding with confusion.

"I'm sorry?"

"You heard me." You stare at him, fully intent on getting your desired response. "I want to be a part of what you do."

"Babe, no." Ran leans his head forward, rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"You haven't even listened to me," you whisper, looking down at the ten toes poking out of the water. "You always do this. You tell me 'no' because that's the way you want things. I can't even drink coffee without your permission."

"Listen, I'll let you do whatever you want, but Bonten is out of the question. You're pregnant --"

"Then I can wait until I have the baby."

"Even after that, I'm going to say no. This is a dangerous business." He emphasizes his words with a shake of his head, pressing his lips together.

"You act like I wasn't an investigative journalist for ten years."

"This shit could get you killed, y/n."

"Yes," you begin. "But you do it every day. I want to be a part of it."

"Why?" Ran finally asks, and your lips curl into a smile.

"I know things you don't know. The media follows you very closely, and you need a good image if you ever run into a problem with... say, law enforcement. What better way to prove that this is a harmless organization than hiring a woman - your wife?" Ran quirks his lips, looking at the door of the bathroom with consideration.

"Is there any particular skill you'll avail to us other than just public relations? I mean, I could get someone to do that who isn't my wife."

"I have connections that will divert attention away from Bonten, if necessary." You think of the little group you and the other wives have created, and send a mental apology their way. "You can use me to get the word out about any other suspicious groups who might be involved. Aid and abet, like a good wife."

Ran stands from the toilet, sighing deeply. "I'll ask Mikey. But don't expect me to attempt to sway him with my loyalty. If anything, I'll ask him to really think about it before he makes a choice."

"That's all I want," you breathe, taking Ran's hand and pressing your lips against the back of it. "You're too good to me."

"Don't thank me yet, sweetheart."

_____________________________________________________________

Convincing Ran to part with his old-fashioned ways is something you're very skilled at. All you need to do is get on your knees... and be as sweet as you can be.

"Babe," you mutter, sucking Ran's thick cock from the side. "You're such a good husband."

"Buttering me up for Mikey, huh?" Fingers cup the back of your head and push you down slightly. "Why am I not surprised?"

And every single time, Ran sees straight through your little act. But he enjoys it nonetheless. He loves seeing you like this - giving him the attention he missed so much while you were gone.

"Because you know me so well. And that's why you married me."

That's why you married me. Ran's eyes close as he re-imagines himself the first time he decided to visit you, hands full of shit he didn't have to buy, and eyes full of stars at the sight of you answering the door in a tank top and shorts with a cast on your leg. That's when he knew that he wanted to marry you. Not because you're good at anything in particular, but because you were so ordinary... So normal. He needed someone like you then, and he needs you now.

"Stop."

"Am I doing something wrong?" you murmur, but Ran shakes his head, strands of his black and white hair flopping back and forth.

"You're perfect," he whispers. "You're always so perfect." He brings you off your knees and face to face with him, holding you by the arms. "Let me make love to you. I'll do the work," Ran promises. "You just enjoy yourself."

"But--"

"I've already told you what I'm going to do. Just let me give you what you deserve." Ran angles forward, leaning into a gentle kiss that makes your knees weak and your head spin.

Ran spoons you from behind on the bed, holding your leg up and sliding in and out of you with care. The other arm is holding you against him - wrapped around your chest - as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear.

"I love the way you moan my name," he breathes. "You always know how to make me feel like the only man in the world."

"You are," you reply honestly. "You're the only man for me."

_____________________________________________________________

"Why do you want to join Bonten?"

The dead eyes of the man across from you are unyielding, and part of you feels nervous that he's staring at you so intensely.

"I want to help you all out. I want to make sure that not only do my children have something to rely on when they grow up, but that my husband is taken care of in all ways."

"Your children and your husband?" You think of Ran, who is just outside of the door, probably pacing with his hands in his pockets. "Your husband just spent three hours arguing with me."

"About?"

"You." The man stands, and Sanzu looks over at him with blank eyes. He wants to chime in, but he can't say anything right now. Not when Mikey was supposed to handle this himself. "Your presence here will be controversial. Especially since you're... in the state you're in."

"Pregnancy isn't a fatal disease."

"No, but being in Bonten could be fatal. And I don't know if both ran and I would be willing to accept the consequences of two deaths on our hand."

"But--" Sanzu raises a finger to his lips, warning you to be quiet.

"However," the man murmurs, rolling his neck around. "Sanzu, Rindou, and Kakucho have vouched for you and your connections." Your shoulders slacken, and you lean back in the chair, somewhat relieved. "I will put it to an anonymous vote in thirty-six hours. Whatever the outcome is, we'll both accept it."

A blind vote.

Thirty-six hours.

"Thank you, sir." You stand and bow slightly, hands clasped together. When you leave the room, Ran is waiting for you in the hallway, eyes wide.

"Well?"

"It'll be put to an anonymous vote in thirty-six hours. Whatever happens, happens."

Ran's face is anything but pleased as you drive home, but you don't worry about that too much. You have one and a half days to wait for the results, and you'd make the best of it either way.

#ran haitani x reader #ran haitani smut #ran haitani #tokyorev smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #Spotify

[bumbleklee]

Honey (Kaeya x M!Reader)

CONTENT WARNING: Internalized homophobia, cursing, alcohol/drunkenness, fist fight scene and mentions of blood

Before Reading: this one-shot uses the f-slur a few times but please keep in mind that I am a lesbian who has been called this word many times in the past so I am reclaiming it through writing. like in the content warning, this story is basically all internalized homophobia so if this subject makes you wary - please don’t read! story is under the cut for sensitive topics

You remember your first love dearly. It was Jean and you were thirteen. She was your best friend and you loved her beauty more than anything in the world. She was kind to you even when you were cruel to her to impress your male friends. It was hard not to fall in love with how she loved you.

When you were sixteen, you dated Jean. Your first kiss was with her, you found comfort in her. You even imagined spending the rest of your life in Mondstadt married to her. Unknowing to you at the time, Jean became your shield. You paraded her around to shut down rumors and broke her heart to save yours. You aren’t expecting her sigh of relief when you begin to question if she was the one for you.

You break up with Jean when you’re eighteen. She was tired and you knew she deserves someone better. You never stopped loving Jean.

When the rumors swirl again, you try to play them off. People wondered why you and Jean had broken up - were you hurting her? Was she cheating on you? Were you cheating on her?

Of course not.

Were you gay?

You didn’t understand what it meant to be gay, so you couldn’t be gay. 

Kaeya is open about love. He says he loves anyone - boys and girls and every other gender. He was proud yet you still didn’t understand. How could someone love so many different people when there were rules? You want to help Kaeya realize this - help him realize he’s only supposed to love girls.

For the next year, you examine Kaeya closely. You accompany him to bars after work and watch him leave with a plethora of different people. One night, he finds solace at the table with a male knight whose name you couldn’t remember. You can only watch their lips press against each other for a moment before retreating to the bar.

“How insensitive,” You mumble, catching the eye of Diluc. He finishes drying a glass and fills it with wine, pressing it towards you gently.

“Are you jealous?”

Your eyes snap up and you let out a breath of shaky laughter. “Jealous? Your brother is sick in the head - he needs to convert before it’s too late.”

Diluc is tight-lipped. To him, you look sick in the head. His relationship with his brother may not have been the best but never would Diluc resort to such hateful thoughts. Kaeya was, well, Kaeya. You stare at him, waiting for him to say something - say anything.

“I can’t believe you’re defending that faggot.”

With a quick movement, Diluc pulls your drink away and it’s hastily thrown in your face. The alcohol drips into your eyes and you seethe.

“Leave. And don’t come back.”

“Gladly.”

He just didn’t understand.

You expect Kaeya to avoid you like the plague after your outburst at the tavern yet the next morning he’s glued to your side at work. His demeanor is off but when you look at him, he smiles.

Anytime you try to bring up your concerns about Kaeya’s sexuality to him, he simply laughs and tells you how funny you are. You get angrier each day and start to spend free time in the church praying to Lord Barbatos to please help Kaeya.

You speak to your parents about your actions and they’re proud of you. Especially your old man. He’s withering away by the day but is still conscious enough to tell you your hair is getting too long - too femine - and you need to cut it. You appreciate him.

Jean is still your rock. She knows more about you than you do.

When you realize how pretty Kaeya looks during the Windblume Festival, Jean is the first person you tell. You’re panicking, scared you’ve come down with a fever and are having hallucinations. Jean just rubs your back and tells you you’re fine.

“You like him,” She says.

“No, I don’t. I can’t.”

Her smile falters and she makes you look at her in the eyes, “It’s okay to like him.”

You pull away from Jean, angry you might say something you don’t mean. You stay far away from Kaeya and Jean for the rest of the festival, denying the frazzled thoughts that are swarming your mind. When Amber confesses to you at the end of the festival, you pull her into a storage closet and kiss her until you can see clearly again.

“We’re in love,” You tell Jean days later. She looks up from the paperwork on her desk.

“It’s been a week.”

She thinks you’re joking. “We’re soulmates,” You continue and Jean’s soft laughter stops. You wait for her to deny it, to protest against your newfound relationship, but she never does. She just sighs and waves you back to Amber.

On a particularly bad day at work, Jean surprises the knights with food and drinks from The Cat’s Tail. You drink so much that you forget you’re there with Amber and by the time you remember, she’s stormed off to find someone else. Instead, you stay near Kaeya as the taller man tells you a story about an adventure.

It’s fine until his arm loops around your waist and your senses overwhelm you again. You shove Kaeya away and his back hits the bar counter. The tavern grows quiet and Kaeya quickly makes a loud joke about how horrible you were at dancing. You pretend you don’t see the hurt in his eye.

All you can hear is the blood pounding in your ears.

You retreat to the table Jean is sitting at and Kaeya pulls Albedo towards him. The chief alchemist, for once, looks excited. Your chest tightens and you stare at the pair with a heavy gaze.

“Albedo is a fag, too,” You start causing Jean to sigh sadly, “He’s a fag and he’s all over my -”

You stop abruptly. What were you going to say? The word that lingers in your mind makes you feel sick to your stomach. As soon as you got home, you were going to repent for even thinking of it. Jean touches your arm lightly, “Y/N…”

You pull your arm away, “Nothing. Nevermind.”

Three months later, Kaeya kisses you.

It’s short and sweet and you’re rambling about how you think him and Jean would make a cute couple. His lips are soft and taste like honey and you feel like you’re flying.

Soaring through the wind until suddenly you’re not.

You hit the ground.

It hurts.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You scream, trying to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. This was horrible - it was all wrong.

“Please,” Kaeya begs, “Shut up.”

You run from him. Your feet take you far into the Whispering Woods and your hands press on your temple with so much force you think you’re going to break. Everything you knew, everything you believed in, was flying out the door and you couldn’t grab onto it. You’re sick - you have to be. There’s no other reason why the only want in your head is Kaeya’s lips on yours again.

You scratch at your skin, curl into yourself and scream.

Kaeya avoids you and you avoid him. You thought this would solve everything - if Kaeya wasn’t around you, he wouldn’t be able to taint you. Yet anytime you looked into his office and saw emptiness, your tongue ached for that sweet taste of honey.

You miss him so much and one day, your emotions get the better of you. You wait for him to stumble out of the tavern and when he does, you grab him. Your mouth gaps like a fish out of water, trying to formulate the right words to say to him.

“What?” His voice is cold, venomous, “Going to call me a faggot again and run away?”

Your heart breaks, “We can get through this together -”

Kaeya snaps his arms away, “You still don’t fucking get it! There’s nothing to get through, Y/N! I’m who I am and I am so fucking tired of waiting around for you to realize who you are!”

“I hate you.”

The words tumble from your lips and Kaeya’s fist collides with your cheek. You try to fight back but Kaeya is stronger. He shoves you down, straddling your hips and clenching your shirt in his hair. His eye is filled with bitter tears and he lands another punch to your face.

“I’m sorry that you were taught to hate love,” Kaeya continues, “I’m sorry you can’t accept that I love myself and you hate yourself!”

Your hands claw at Kaeya’s face, managing to tear off his eyepatch and reveal his blinded eye. Kaeya lifts you by the hold on your shirt only to slam you back down into the concrete. By now, there’s a small crowd of drunken knights surrounding you both.

“You’re mental!” You cry out, “You need serious help or you’re going to go to Hell! I don’t want you to go to Hell, Kaeya!”

Kaeya gives you one last punch, this one to your nose, and gets off your. You feel warm blood trickle past your lips and your head is pounding. He looks at you with an expression that makes you start crying yourself.

“I’ll go to Hell if it’ll save me from you.”

It takes you twenty minutes to get up and finally tread home. Your parents are already asleep and when you look in the mirror, you see the dried blood covering your lips and chin. Your nose hurt to the touch.

You fall into a deeper hole than you ever thought you would. You stay in bed for three days straight, blaming it on a cold, until Jean shows up at your door to drag you back into the sunlight.

You don’t feel worthy to be seen by the sun.

She takes you on a walk through Spingvale and you sit in front of the lake. You feel embarrassed, your hands folding on top of each other.

“We have to talk about what happened.”

You don’t look at Jean. Your shoulders tremble and you lean in closer to your knees. “I’ve been trying to push...it...away for so long,” You start. Your voice is a hushed whisper and you hardly recognize it. “But it’s like there’s this flashing light that keeps reminding me.”

“It’s because it’s who you are.”

“That’s the problem.”

Jean is quiet for a moment before reaching over and placing her hand over yours.

“My parents told me growing up that love was between a man and a woman and that Lord Barbatos would punish the souls who didn’t obey that. I don’t...don’t want to get punished, Jean.”

Your hands are shaking. Jean rubs your thumb, “Lord Barbatos would never punish anyone for being in love.” You feel shameful again. “But you don’t love Amber.”

You didn’t. You truly didn’t. In fact, you had forgotten about her during your depressive episode. You felt horrible - you had hurt so many people just to hide from the truth. Tears well in your eyes again and you don’t know what to do.

“Listen,” Jean says comfortingly. You finally look up to meet her tired eyes - the same eyes from back when you were eighteen. “I’ll talk to Amber for you. I think you owe someone else a visit.”

Without another word, you took off. You hoped Kaeya was around and not on a commission because if you didn’t say what you needed to say now, you never would. Thankfully, you find him sitting at his desk at the Headquarters. You stand in the doorway and clutch at your sleeves, your heart pounding.

In that moment you realized you couldn’t do it alone - you couldn’t be yourself alone.

Without someone guiding you through this, you would fall into old habits and never progress. If you continued to shove your truth far, far away then you would lose Kaeya forever.

“Are you just going to stare at me?” Kaeya finally asks. His voice is much kinder than days prior.

“I love you.”

Time freezes and you stare at each other. The words linger in the air but you know there’s no taking them back. Kaeya was expecting another half-assed biblical chant about how you could change him. He was never expecting a love confession.

You realize you’ve been moving closer to Kaeya when his hand reaches out to touch your cheek. He rises from his desk and leans in, pressing his lips to yours ever so slightly. As soon as you taste honey, you feel sparks fly.

You lived in a world of hatred and darkness, waiting for the light at the end of the tunnel to arise. And Kaeya was that light.

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin writing #genshin oneshot #kaeya #kaeya alberich #kaeya x reader #kaeya x male reader #genshin x reader

[pointnumbersixteen]

How do you see The Captain's coming out, and growth in confidence and self acceptance thereafter taking place?

I like this question! …and I’m probably going to elaborate on it a bit more than many people will want to read (I noticed back when I was regularly writing essay length posts that they did not get a lot of love) and it’s probably going to get even more ramble-y than usual (brain has not been braining as cooperatively as it should recently and the decision to drink half a bottle of wine right before answering this- sorry- probably does not help), but here we are.  

 About coming out scenarios, none of mine are particularly elaborate. While I do think he needs to come out for his story line to progress, I can’t imagine him making a big thing out of it (long or elaborate announcements, heart-to-hearts, emotional displays of bearing his authentic self or any of the like), either with the group, or person-by-person, for several reasons:

First off, that sort of a coming-out to-do is a more modern notion, and I doubt he was a particularly modern person even when he was alive, seventy-five years ago. His notions of privacy and propriety are probably much more conservative than ours, and I feel like that makes it unlikely that he’d go into any sort of detail, at least at early in this process, about his feelings/emotions or the specificities of his attractions. We’re talking about a man who doesn’t even use his own name. It’s difficult to picture him going into depth about his desires and love life.

Secondly, he’s a bit of a social coward. (He’s not a physical coward, of course, he jumped on that bomb in the garden without hesitation, and acknowledged after the fact that he gotten caught up in the moment, and therefore hadn’t really thought about how a bomb couldn’t hurt him.) And I get it, I’m a bit of a social coward, too, so no judgement. He probably faced a lot of ridicule in his life. Being a social coward is totally fair. But he doesn’t put himself into situations that might involve awkward interpersonal interactions if he can help it, and legs it whenever interactions he’s already in become to awkward for him. I feel like he’s probably quite desperate (although he’d never admit to it) to save face and protect what bits of his ego remain unscathed.

Think about it: he could have spoken to Fanny on his own about her nightly screaming disturbing him in s1e1, they have a clear association established at the outset of the show, they leave Heather’s room together at the end of the very first scene, but he doesn’t do so until he has the weight of the whole group to back him up about the screaming at their meeting. He had to buck up his courage and give himself his little ‘over the top we go’ pep talk before going to speak to Alison in Gorilla War. Also, if there was actually something wrong with his soldiers’ horseplay after hours in Reddy Weddy- if it was breaking regulations or even his own orders for quiet hours- and he heard it, he could have gone down directly when he heard it, confronted whoever was involved and order them to stop or put them on report. But no, instead he addressed the entire group of soldiers in a sixteen point morning brief. He even dispatched Pat to confront Alison about the party in s2e2, instead doing it himself… and spit out his apology/reconciliation with Pat at the end as fast as possible. And as for legging it when things get awkward, see his retreats following the group confronting him in Getting Out and after Alison telling him he wasn’t needed in the Grey Lady- and on a more figurative than literal level, but most relevantly, his quick turn from ‘I’ll miss you’ to ‘we’ll miss you’ with Havers in Reddy Weddy.

This is not a man who wants to be in awkward or embarrassing situations. And I think that coming out, at least at first, will probably be a bit embarrassing for him- it was scandalous in his time, and I think it will take him longer to get over that feeling and come to terms with himself than it will to finally acknowledge that he’s gay. So I doubt he’d make more of it than he utterly feels he has to, at least at first. And of course, he’d have to be a bit afraid that people would judge him or stop associating with him over it, as sadly, in his own time many people would have done, and most of the ghosts are from even earlier times than he was. So that might add more hesitation…

And thirdly, he doesn’t like and/or respect many of his house mates. The other twentieth century ghosts are the only ones he spends much time with. I doubt he’d go out of his way to communicate much of anything to the rest if it wasn’t “mission related” much less discuss his sexuality with them. He mostly disregards Humphrey. See his, “Oh, it’s you.” Mary obviously doesn’t like him and he only associates with her when it might be useful for his ‘missions.’ He clearly doesn’t think much of Thomas and doesn’t really even bother including him in his plans. These aren’t people he’s going to have heart-to-hearts with.

With those constraints in place, here’s a non-exhaustive list of possibilities by which I might see his coming out finally happening. They’re really just scenarios I made for myself on how I might see him coming out and I like to keep my options open (the first three are strategies he might go for, the last is an alternate scenario, presented in decreasing levels of directness on his part):

1) The ‘pull the bandage off quickly and hope it doesn’t sting too much’ strategy.

The Captain waits for the end of one of their various group activities or meetings, where all announcements seem to be made, gets up, clears his throat, stammers a bit, announces it tersely, using the most proper popular word for homosexuality that existed in his time (think: “Heh-hem. Er. Um. Well. It has recently come to my attention that I am- er- well- as it happens- gay. I, uh, thought it should be noted. That is all.”), and then beats a hasty retreat, so he doesn’t have to try to cope with the potentially negative aftermath. Of course, there isn’t a negative aftermath, because many of the ghosts already have guessed and the rest don’t really care. Someone, probably Pat, because he does the bulk of the emotional labor in the group, and more importantly, he’s Cap’s closest friend, would have to go after him. He would of course be initially defensive, and Pat would have to sooth his feathers a bit- or maybe just spit it out over his defensiveness- that he guessed a long time ago and so had plenty of other people, and they were just waiting for him to be ready, and really, it’s fine, and no one’s going to disown him for it.  

2) The ‘well maybe I should tell my friends with the hope they support me’ strategy.

He gets together with a small group, the people whose company he actually values, definitely Fanny and Pat, maybe Julian, probably Alison either at the same time or after he finishes with his ghosts pals, and says it in much the same way as the previous scenario, but waiting for their reactions rather than retreating straight away. Pat and Alison, I expect, would answer with something like ‘yeah, we figured that one out a long time ago, actually, and it’s completely fine’ and Julian’s reaction would probably be something like, ‘well, obviously.’ Fanny’s had a lot of character growth since season one, when I expect her reaction would have been very shrill and judgmental, probably still would be a touch less warm and/or nonchalant, but I picture it as something like a sigh, followed by a pat on the arm and something like, ‘well, I still like you better than everyone else here, anyway.’ Word would eventually trickle to everyone else by way of social osmosis. Or not. No one seems to care if Humphrey or the plague ghosts are well informed.  

3) The ‘I’m not brave enough to actually go through the process of actually telling anyone anything about me so let’s just drop hints and hope everyone figures it out without making a big deal about it’ strategy.  

The indirect approach (I’m rather fond of this one, but mostly because it was my own primary coming out approach)… he first sends out feelers to certain people on the topic of homosexuality, probably Alison, since she’s modern, hosted a lesbian wedding, and very much implied that she’d be ready to keep scandalous secrets for him in Reddy Weddy, and  possibly maybe also Julian, as he’s the most sexually experienced/knowledgeable, and after Alison spent a while inundating him with ‘it’s okay to be gay’ messages (along with a sudden and entirely unexplained influx of LGBT media) as she’s socially clever enough to see that’s what he’s looking for and after Julian spent a while telling him probably far more than he ever actually wanted to know about the potentialities of gay sex, that might boost the Captain’s confidence enough to let him start dropping hints to people, instead of telling them outright (consciously commenting on the attractiveness of men they see rather than occasionally accidentally blurting it out- see ‘the handsome one’- occasionally putting forth an opinion or stance on the LGBT world ‘it would have been nice if gay marriage was acceptable when I was alive,’ maybe occasionally mentioning how certain men would make cute couple), expecting them to meet him in the middle and figure out the point on their own… of course, many of them have already realized, so this isn’t a problem. It’s entirely possible, though, that Mary (world view not terribly grounded in reality) and Kitty (lack of life experience and/or instruction about life, see the how are babies made subplot) never pick up the hints on their own and someone else eventually has to tell them.

4) The ‘someone puts him out of his misery’ scenario.

Cap acknowledges to himself that he’s gay first and then, wishing to avoid embarrassment or lack of acceptance, obviously, awkwardly, painfully tries to disguise it and in doing so draws attention to it, until a third party decides to put him out of his misery and tell him that many of them figured it out ages ago and that everyone is fine with it. Maybe Pat. Maybe Alison. I kind of like the idea of it being Fanny (with her lovely character growth and her couple of suspicious glances his way in the Perfect Day), actually, by way of something like ‘You know, I was entirely prepared to continue on living with my husband, George, keeping his secrets, about the, uh, sort of person he was, and you’re at least one better than him, given that you at least never murdered me- or, for that matter, never married some poor woman you had no interest in to shield yourself from scrutiny… and so, what I’m saying is, I wouldn’t turn my back on you for being the, uh, sort of person you are, either, and maybe things have progressed enough that you don’t actually have to keep secrets at all.’ Cap would take all of this in with a mixture of mortification and relief. I’m rather fond of this scenario, too.  

 As for the second bit of the question, once his sexuality is out there, though, and no one judges him or hates him for it- and some are quite supportive- I do see him becoming more self-accepting. If no one’s judging him, does he need to judge himself so harshly? And also more confident. Because some of those things that he’s always felt different about and in the past has probably been ridiculed about in the past (even if he’s in denial about being gay, he and quite a few other people had to at the very least note that he’s not particularly interested in women), are, apparently just fine now. So he’s a bit more just fine now himself. And that weight of always trying to be someone else, someone who’s just right, can lift and he can relax a bit more. And that would probably help him a lot, too. I see it as a slow sort of thawing process. No matter what way he comes out, I still see Alison as very helpfully providing a variety of LGBT media to help this process along. And maybe he’d eventually get to the point where he processed enough and warmed up enough to be able to talk more in depth, at least with his friends, about what it was like being him in repressed pre-war Britain, and what sort of men he’s attracted to (I enjoy the idea of him and Fanny- gradually overcoming her own repression- scoping out hot men together). Maybe he’ll even luck out one of his male housemates will decide (or has already decided) that bisexuality is a valid option and he’ll get a date (insert whichever ghost y’all ship him with here). I bet Alison would totally help him set up a nice date, too, with her convenient still-functional-in-the-mortal-realm hands. And it would be nice to maybe see him get a taste of actual happiness.    

#bbc ghosts #the captain #coming out #sorry for the giant block of text friends #i find it difficult to help myself

[write-r-die]

Prisoner - Part 13

February, 1067

Henry Cavill is a respected Norman baron who has been tasked with finding Lady Thomasin, an ill-tempered Saxon noblewoman, and returning her to London so the king can marry her off to a cruel Norman invader. The two grow close during the long journey, and Henry puts his own life in danger (more than once) to protect the woman he loves.

Masterlist

Thomasin was horribly ill in the morning due to the combination of her courses, sleeplessness, and anxiety. Etheldreda summoned Elaine without needing to be asked. 

“Are you often like this in the early days of your time?” Etheldreda asked when she was sure Thomasin was, for the moment, finished vomiting in a bucket.

“Not often, thank God,” Thomasin croaked. 

There was a knock at the door. A moment later, a very small Elaine came rushing in. 

“Mercia is with me,” Elaine said, following after her miniature. “I hope you don’t mind.”

The little girl looked very much like her mother. Her curly blonde hair was light but still a shade or two darker than Elaine’s straight, pale tresses.

Thomasin did mind but she wasn’t in a place to object.

Elaine removed her satchel and unpacked its contents: around a dozen small jars filled with herbs and flowers. She set a small cauldron of water over the hearth to heat while she muddled peppermint, ginger, and herbs Thomasin did not recognize into a goblet.

The child parked herself beside Thomasin’s bed. “This my doll,” the child said proudly. “Her name Batty.”

“She’s very pretty,” Thomasin said. “Did your mother make her for you?”

“No. It’s present.”

“A gesture of good will from the queen,” Elaine said from the hearth. “It used to belong to one of her daughters.”

“I make her dress. See?” She shoved the poppet straight into Thomasin’s face so she could get a good look at its wrapping. 

“Very pretty,” Thomasin said, carefully pushing it away. It had an odd smell to it. Lavender, Thomasin thought, and perhaps milfoil.

Elaine finished ladling hot water into the goblet of herbs and brought it to Thomasin. “You must wait a little before drinking this.”

“How long?”

“Until the water turns brown.”

Thomasin frowned. “Lovely.”

“You sick?” The child climbed onto the bed beside Thomasin. Thank God Etheldreda had already changed the bedding.

“A little.”

Mercia leaned forward like she was sharing a secret. “Is it lady sickness?”

“Mercia,” Elaine called. “Stop bothering Lady Thomasin. She has to drink her potion and prepare for the day.” She gestured at Thomasin to start drinking. 

The hot, murky water smelled and tasted considerably better than Thomasin had anticipated, but she would never admit that. She made a face as she drained the cup.

Mercia took the liberty of scooching closer to Thomasin and crossed her little legs. “You got castle?” Mercia asked.

Thomasin looked to Elaine, silently willing the woman to shut her daughter up, but she was back to meddling with her herbs by the fire. “Not anymore.”

“I not have castle,” Mercia said comfortingly. “You have horses?”

“My family had some, yes.” She was without a horse of her own since her mare’s death the year before.

“Not anymore?”

“Not anymore,” Thomasin confirmed.

“I not have horse. You got –”

“Etheldreda, I think perhaps I might bathe. Could you send for a tub? The hot water unknots my muscles.” Thomasin was planning a veritable monologue – as long as she was talking, the child was not – but Mercia had already lost interest in Thomasin.

She crouched beside her mother by the fireplace and plucked dried leaves and flowers from Elaine’s many jars which she then ate.

“A note, milady,” Etheldreda said. She handed the paper over to Thomasin. Thomasin tore it open, expecting something from Henry. It was not. “Are you still ill, Lady Thomasin?” Etheldreda asked.

“It’s from Lawrence,” Thomasin said. All three women fell silent; Mercia tugged at her mother’s hand in a soundless demand for protection and an explanation. “Perhaps I am still unwell.” Thomasin settled back into the pillows.

“What does it say?” Elaine asked.

“He would like to walk with me in the gardens.”

“In Heaven’s name, why?” asked Etheldreda.

“I’m supposed to marry him.”

Mercia wasn’t totally sure what was happening, but the toddler knew how to distract everyone from their problems. Something she heard from Henry and Simon when she caught them by surprise once.

 “Goddamn it!”

*

Thomasin shouldn’t be surprised that Lawrence expected to spend time with her, since they were, after all, engaged.

She supposed she should be pleased in some way. Or that she would be pleased if she were really going to marry him. He was handsome – or would be, if he weren’t directly compared to Henry. He was long-limbed and slim, a combination which made him look foxlike and sly. He was about Henry’s age, which put him somewhere in his early thirties, at least ten years older than Thomasin if not more.

It was a small age gap by most standards; most women wed by sixteen to men at least twice their age, often far more. Justina’s husband was nineteen or twenty years her senior.

As for Lawrence’s personality . . . 

Thomasin originally imagined Lawrence to be the sort of man who took joy in chaos and death. Instead, he was reportedly the sort not to find joy in anything at all. According to Elaine, he wasn’t the angry type either. Indeed, he seemed rather disinterested in general. 

The snow had started to melt, so Lawrence suggested a walk through the garden. They had no chaperone, but there were at least a dozen others walking along the paths. Etheldreda had altered Thomasin’s borrowed clothes so thankfully she didn’t get mud on the hem of her skirts.

The conversation was bland, to say the least, until Thomasin grew tired of being polite.

“I’ve heard the stories about you,” Thomasin finally said. “How you killed that baron’s wife and daughters. How you let your men rape the servants.”

Lawrence took a deep breath and shut his eyes, summoning his every ounce of patience. “My lady, that is what soldiers do in war. The reason most of these men came from Normandy in the first place was to enjoy the spoils of war. More often than not, those spoils are women.” He took another deep breath and went on walking. “I tell you truthfully, I’ve never had a girl against her will. That’s more than I can say for most of these other barons.”

“Indeed,” Thomasin said again.

“Does it surprise you to hear that most of the men here at court have raped defeated women?”

“No.” Thomasin wasn’t a fool, but she didn’t like thinking about that sort of thing. “But not all of them. Henry and his brothers haven’t. Roger hasn’t.”

Lawrence snorted. “Roger’s perversion sways him from women to men, and the Cavills are an anomaly.” 

Thomasin had no idea what the first part meant but she agreed with the second. 

“Henry cares for you deeply,” he said after a moment, tone perfectly conversational. “Tis a pity, that. His family are the most honorable men in Normandy if not the world, but I fear he’s a fool.”

“Why are we speaking of Henry?”

Lawrence stopped walking and raised an eyebrow at her. “Don’t insult my intelligence.”

Thomasin straightened up. “All right. What’s your point, then?”

“I’m sure the two of you will cook up some plot to overthrow me so that Henry can take my place as your intended. Frankly, I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

Thomasin made a face which she couldn’t hide. “Then why not just release me and let me marry him?” Her words dripped with judgment at his stupidity

“The king gave you to me, not him. He would be insulted if I gave you up for no reason. Besides, you are the sort that I want.”

“The sort,” she repeated. 

“You are beautiful, self-possessed, intelligent, strong. And you speak your mind, which i think saves a great deal of time.” He shrugged. “It’s a sound match.”

Had he just complimented her? The words were kind but his tone was so detached it felt more like an insult. 

Thomasin had the thought that maybe she should hold her tongue. Maybe she shouldn’t say what she wanted to. But she did “How sound was your last match?”

His ears went so red that Thomasin thought they might burst.

“There you are!” Elaine said, feigning relief. She conveniently appeared from a bend in the garden path. “I was looking for you.” She folded Thomasin’s arm into her own. “We must get you back to bed or I fear your promenade will be spoiled with sick. Do you mind terribly, Baron, if I take Lady Thomasin back to her chambers for some much-needed rest?”

“By all means,” he said - in a similarly sarcastic tone to the one Thomasin often used. “I’m due to visit your Saxon brethren in their dungeon anyway. I’ll be sure to give them your best.” He smiled and bowed. “Ladies.”

The women curtseyed and muttered farewells.

“Did you hear him?” Thomasin hissed when he was out of earshot. “He mentioned the Saxons.”

“I heard him,” Elaine said tersely. 

“Shouldn’t they have been executed by now?” asked Thomasin.

“One of the men told me that William is reluctant. They’re fine warriors, supposedly. The king would rather have their loyalty than their heads.”

Thomasin sighed. “Little chance of that.”

**

Henry was among the best warriors under William’s command. He was without a doubt a finer warrior than Lawrence, but he was still vulnerable because he adhered to a code of honor that Lawrence did not. Lawrence’s ruthlessness and detachment made him highly effective, though, and Henry would not make the mistake of underestimating him. 

There was a large stone courtyard between the castle itself and the wall William was building around it to make it into another bailey. Henry joined Roger, Charlie, and most of their men to train. Knights were expected to keep their skills sharp and were therefore expected to practice their skills, so it wasn’t strange for him to be there. No one suspected he was training for a duel, or if they did, they were quiet about it. 

Henry was barely out of the castle before a little voice called his name,

“Henry!” 

He turned around just in time to see Mercia, Elaine’s daughter, crash into his solid legs. He barely had time to maneuver so that she wouldn’t run smack into his scabbard.

“Ah, Mercia!” he said brightly, hoisting the girl into his arms. “You must be careful running. You could’ve gone straight into my sword and be chopped in half!”

“I careful,” she said. “I not cut in half. See?” She opened her arms as if to show him she was whole.

“And what about Batty?” Henry asked, nodding to the doll in her hand. “Is she as careful as you are?”

“Batty not a person, Henry. She not need be careful.”

“Ah, of course! That’s why she won’t talk to me!”

In fact, Batty didn’t interact with Henry because of an unfortunate incident in which Kal thought the poppet belonged to him and nearly tore it to shreds. Mercia had yet to forgive the dog. Her mother repaired the doll as best as she could, though it still bore the marks of its ordeal. Elaine was clever enough to replace some of the lost stuffing with the same herbs she used to treat people with similar wounds. It was Simon’s idea to add lavender to it to help the child relax.

“Where Simon?” Mercia asked.

Simon was Mercia’s dearest companion and she was his. He often referred to the girl as his own small angel, and sometimes asked her where her wings had gone.

Henry would’ve gladly been her playmate, ready for a footrace or a game at a moment’s notice, if his older brother had not asserted himself in that role. Simon’s special relationship with her daughter kindled Elaine’s affections for him until they mirrored his own admiration and tenderness for the healer. 

Simon, like Henry, longed for the joy and companionship of a wife and family, though his desire was even greater than his brother’s.

Charlie, too, wanted a family of his own, but he would not admit such a thing aloud. He could be prickly and cold to those he disliked while charming, funny, and kind to those he did. He often made up his mind about people quite quickly, and once his opinion was formed it was difficult to change. Such was the case with Thomasin.

“Simon is still in the north, at the castle I told you about,” Henry said to the little girl. “I know he would rather be here playing with you.”

“He coming back?” 

“Soon.”

She frowned. “I miss him. He my friend.”

“Am I not your friend, too?” Henry said with false sadness.

“Yeah, you my friend but you not best friend like Simon.”

Henry sighed theatrically. “I suppose I understand.” He looked around but there was no sign of Elaine, only a handful of serving women pinning wet clothes on a line. “Where’s your mother?”

“She with Lady Thomasin.”

Henry broke into a smile at the sound of her name. He always did. “You’ve met Tom?”

The child frowned again. “Who Tom?”

“It’s a name I call Thomasin.”

“Tom is name for boys. Thomasin not a boy,” she explained patiently.

“Of course, of course. Please forgive me.”

“I forgive,” she said, patting his shoulder.

Henry chuckled. “Is your mother friends with Tom? Thomasin,” he corrected.

“Yeah but they not play today. Thomasin not feel good.”

“What’s wrong with her?”

Mercia motioned for Henry to bring his ear closer so she could whisper to him. “Lady sickness.” She pulled away. “Mama say not to talk about it cause it a secret. Cannot tell!”

“I won’t tell anyone,” Henry promised. He was quietly relieved to hear it was nothing serious, but he frowned over it. Was she really sick, he wondered, or had her engagement to Lawrence prompted her to withdraw from court life?

“Thomasin pretty,” Mercia said.

“Very pretty,” Henry agreed.

“I like her hair.” The little girl started wiggling, a silent signal for Henry to set her down. “She sad though cause she gotta marry Lawrence. Lawrence really scary. And it a bad thing so I say, ‘Goddamn it!’” She shouted the curse; a female servant nearby looked shocked and horrified at the sound.

“Shh!” Henry said, putting his finger to his lips. “Who said that in front of you? Where did you hear it?”

“You say it. When Kal sneaked up on you and barked. You jump and you say, ‘Goddamn it!’”

“Shh!” Henry said again. “You mustn’t say that.”

“Cause why?”

Henry didn’t have a good reason handy. “Ask Simon when he gets back.”

“Why you not tell me?” she asked, sticking out her lower lip in a pout.

“Because I’m not your best friend.”

Henry went for two rounds with Roger, winning both. He then sparred with his squire, since it was his responsibility to train the boy, but he lacked the patience for it today. “Practice your footwork before next time, Jamie. It’s too easy to knock you on your arse.”

“We have an audience,” Roger murmured, nodding to a small, barred window at the base of the castle that looked in on the dungeon. A red-bearded face was just visible through the iron grate. One of the Saxon prisoners, no doubt.

“Can I be of service, sir?” Roger called out. He was courteous by nature, but he became excessively so when speaking to a handsome man – even if that man was in chains.

“Are you preparing for a fight?” the man asked. 

Henry opened his mouth to tell the Saxon that it was none of his business, but Roger answered instead. “Aye.”

“What are you fighting over?”

“What do you care?” Henry said. The Saxon shrugged. “A woman,” Henry finally said.

The Saxon didn’t approve. “One woman is just as good as another. It is no great tragedy to lose one to another man. Certainly not worth dying over.”

Henry though the Saxon must not have known many women in his life if he thought they were all interchangeable. But fair number of men, Saxon and Norman alike, shared his sentiment: So long as she ran the household and gave birth to sons, a woman was a woman, and her personality was of little consequence.

“I disagree,” said Henry. 

“Then she must be the kindest, most loving woman in all of Christendom if you’re willing to die for her,” the Saxon remarked.

Roger smirked. He spoke low enough that only Henry could hear when he said, “She most certainly is not.” Henry shot him a look which he pretended not to say. “What’s your name, Saxon?”

The Saxon sucked his teeth and narrowed his eyes in thought but did not reply.

“I’m Baron Roger,” Roger said. “This is Henry, my brother-by-law. And you are?” he prompted when the Saxon didn’t respond.

The Saxon replied, “Cerdic.”

**

One of the squires came around with a note from Henry when Thomasin was readying for dinner. It told Thomasin to come to the servant’s corridor at once. She hurried to finish preparing and went straight to the meeting spot.

“Henry?” she whispered, tiptoeing through the silent hall.

“No.”

Thomasin’s hand flew to her chest in surprise; her fist closed around Henry’s ring. “Charlie,” she gasped. She took a deep breath. “You nearly frightened the life out of me.”

Charlie did not look even the least bit contrite. In fact, he looked murderous. “You can’t let Henry get himself killed for you.”

Straight into arguing, then, Thomasin thought. A gentleman of Charlie’s pedigree ought to feign civility before starting trouble, at least in the beginning of the conversation.

“Do you think I want that? That I’m happy to have Henry risk his life?” Thomasin snapped. “Do you think I haven’t tried to reason with him?”

“You must try harder.”

“I must do nothing of the sort.” Thomasin agreed with his sentiment, but the way he spoke to her made her see red. “You try to reason with him! You’re his brother.”

“I have tried,” he growled, each word as sharp as a razor. “He’s determined to kill himself for you.”

Thomasin was ready to murder Charlie. It was a long time coming. “It’s not my fault that Henry fell in love with me,” she snapped. And that was true, wasn’t it? She hadn’t encouraged his affection, at least not at first. Had she? “I can’t control what he does. Go on hating me if you like, but it won’t change anything for anyone.”

“There’s another way.” Charlie swallowed his discomfort. “If you invite him to share your–”

Thomasin shook her head. “I’ve tried that,” she said, blushing all the way to her hairline. “He won’t. He’s too damn honorable for it.”

“Well you don’t need him to now if it’s already been done,” said Charlie.

“I don’t follow.”

Charlie fought the urge to roll his eyes. “I know about that night at the pond, just before you were injured.”

She shouldn’t be surprised to hear that he knew; they hadn’t exactly been subtle. But Charlie assumed too much. 

Thomasin took a deep breath and ignored the feeling of blood rushing into her cheeks. “Henry and I didn’t . . .”

Charlie shut his eyes and tried to be delicate. “Madam, you were unclothed –”

“He didn’t bed me,” Thomasin said strongly. A moment later, she added, “Not quite.”

“It doesn’t matter. Just tell the king you are not virtuous; you’ll be released from your betrothal without getting my brother slaughtered.”

Thomasin exhaled through her nose. “I’ve considered this course of action,” she confessed. “But it seems unwise to lie to the king, especially for a Saxon. Besides, Lawrence might demand proof. They’ll know I’m lying if they examine me.”

Charlie believed his brother was too fine a man to take advantage of Thomasin, but he was a bit surprised that she was a virgin – or claimed to be, at least. She didn’t possess many virtues that he was aware of, and he hadn’t expected chastity to be one of them.

“It won’t come to that. Some of the men will attest to what they saw that night in the camp.”

Some of the men? Good Lord, how many of them had seen her and Henry together? The fact that any man had seen them meant the whole group knew what happened; gossip spread through camps like wildfire through a dry forest.

Good. Wonderful. Now she was a shrew and a whore.

Charlie was calmer now but his gaze stayed sharp. “My brother loves you. He says it and shows it all the time.”

Thomasin’s throat tightened. “I know.” There was never a doubt in her mind about it. She had the love of a good man. Not many women could say that.

“Yet I’ve never heard you say you love him. I’ve never seen you show it,” he continued. “I won’t let him die for a woman who doesn’t love him back.”

He was right.

She didn’t love him. She couldn’t.

It would betray the promise she made the night her father died never to forgive the invaders that stole her life away. That promise and the anger and pain beneath it were all Thomasin had left of her old self. She doubted she’d ever see any of her siblings again, or her home. That promise was her quiet rebellion against a change she could not fight.

She was allowed to feel tenderness for him, even affection, but she could not love him.

“You don’t know a damned thing about what I feel,” she snarled. She could hardly contain her fury; her whole body shook with the urge to lash out at Charlie and the difficulty of controlling it.

“Perhaps I don’t,” Charlie said. “But don’t allow a good man get killed for nothing.”

Thomasin’s throat was suddenly dry and tight and sore. “I won’t.”

#henry cavill #the cavillry #I capture the castle #whatever works #stardust #hellraiser #hellworld #mike #the tudors #Charles Brandon #duke of suffolk #medieval #au #alternate universe #enola holmes #Sherlock Holmes #netflix #Nomis #night hunter #Walter Marshall #the witcher #geralt of rivia #the white wolf #mission impossible #fallout #john lark #august walker #Tristan and Isolde #melot #english

[fanficsloth]

If Walls Could Talk - 5 Seconds Of Summer.

*****SMUT*****

 ALSO JUST A REMIDER I WOULD STILL LIKE TO DO REQUESTS FOR IMAGINES, MY ASK BOX IS ALWAYS OPEN. <3

Some things are meant to be secret and not to be heard.

(Y/N) Winston was sent away to boarding school when she was about sixteen.

Her father didn't want her turning into her older brother Dallas. But that was a big mistake.

When she arrived at the school, she turned heads of everyman. She knew how to get what she wanted. She had everyone wrapped around her finger.

For of course it was in her blood, she was a Winston.  Everything she learned she learned best from her older brother himself.

The gang hasn't seen her for years, she was finally back at home in Tulsa.

She had grown up into a beautiful woman. She held herself with the most confidence anyone has seen.

Dally thought it would be a good idea and get the whole gang back together when she came back. The pair was partners in crime.

When they were walking down the street to the Curtis household , everyone was staring at the young woman. But at this point she was so unfazed by their actions, she continues to carry her head held high, winking at some men with a cancer stick pressed between her lips.

All of the gang was sitting on the porch soaking up the sunlight before catching glimpse of who was walking up to the house.

They were all stunned by her beauty. They at least thought she was going to look identical to Dally. But they sure was wrong.

"Y'all know (Y/N) she doesn't need an introduction. But try any funny business, I'll kill ya. Or she'll do it before I have a chance to do it." Dally nudged his head at his sister before sitting next to Ponyboy and Johnny.

"Well someone had a nice puberty." Two Bit snickered at the young girl, her (Y/E/C) eyes rolled before flicking him off. "I wish I could say the same thing about you. Looks like you haven't grown since I left." she smirked while letting out a small giggle making the man shut up real quick.

Before anyone could say anything else a car pulled up with the last of the two members of the gang. Steve and most importantly Sodapop.

She always swooned at Sodapop but who didn't. The whole town knew about the heartthrob of Tulsa.

"Well, well, ain't it lil (Y/N). Back from jail?" Steve joked before giving her a big hug, "See Two-Bit, this is how you welcome someone back." she squinted her eyes at the man who was poking fun at her.

She felt eyes staring at her, her eyes looked over and saw Soda's eyes looking at her.

As like the other men, he didn't expect her to be so beautiful, strong, independent. He wasn't expecting her to be how she was when she returned. He thought she would be shy and timid like most women. But sure he was wrong.

"Soda." her plump lips turned into a smile before following the men inside the Curtis household.

As they all crowded around the tv, (Y/N) went into the kitchen to grab a beer.

"Aren't you a little too young to be drinking" she heard a voice joke, she rolled her eyes before shutting the fridge behind her. "Okay grandpa." she bit her lower lip before meeting Soda's bright blue eyes.  

"I missed ya (Y/N). Never thought you'd be back. How was it?" Soda asked while placing his arms across his chest being genuinely interested in what she had to say.

Her soft hands opened the bottle of booze with no problem which surprised the young man.

"You know going to class, getting hit on by men, beating people up, oh can't forget partying. You know the usual school shit." she laughed before moving her (Y/C/H) out of her face. "How's you and Sandy? Your new job?"

"She left me. But worked distracted me from it. I'm really liking it there. I'm learning a lot of new things" he nodded his head.

(Y/N) walked up slowly to him before placing her cold hands on his face making his skin have goosebumps. "I know what else can distract you with that." he whispered, her big eyes looking up at him.

Soda sucked in a big breath before grabbing her hands to remove them. "(Y/N), you know I can't. You're Dally's little sister. You asking me to have a death wish?" he smirked showing off his dimples that she loved.

"It'll be worth it." she winked before walking back into the Curtis's living room sitting next to her older brother, leaving Soda to walk in with a red face.

Throughout the weeks, (Y/N) and Soda would always run into each other. Whether it be at the store, walking around, at the diners, clubs. Everywhere.

Their eyes would always find each other's. They were watching one another. They just couldn't get enough.

This time, the gang agreed to go out to a club, let loose for one night, as the men drank. Soda and (Y/N) just drank soft drinks while laughing at the mess, the jokes the others were saying.

Bodies are hoping to get addicted to sound. And Soda was addicted to the sound of her laugh.

As (Y/N) grew bored, her hands wondered onto Soda's lap while drawing circles. She wanted to feel him, hear him. She wanted him.

What (Y/N) wanted, she always got. It's the cherry on top for it to be a secret Romeo and Juliet situation.

"Wanna blow this joint?" she whispered into Soda's ear, being extra cautious to be sure the other men didn't see. Most importantly Dally. But he was too drunk, head down on the table with his eyes shut.

He pressed his lips together before nodding his head. "Hey where you going? We're just getting the party started. " Steve asked while scrunching his eyebrows together. "I don't wanna be here anymore. I'm bored, I can't drink out in public. You guys just drink up, have a drink for me. Just keep an eye on Dally okay? If something happens you'll regret it."

The gang just looked at her before looking over at Soda. Why would he be going with her.

"I'm just going to make sure she get's back safely. Soc's man, she's like the golden ticket to them being Dally's sister." he ran his hands through his slicked back hair  trying to play it cool.

"You have your knife on ya?" Pony asked, Soda nodded his head before turning to follow the impatient  girl who was already walking out.

As the pair felt the breeze of fresh air on their face, they linked hands and ran quickly to the Curtis house.

When they hit the front door, Soda pressed (Y/N) against the door smashing his lips to hers.

Her soft hands making her way into his dark hair.

Soda lifted her body while never breaking contact with her lips to carry her into his room, he slammed the door shut with his foot while placing her on the bed.

When the doors close, it's bond to get loud.

The pair were quick to remove every clothing item they had on, Soda was nipping at her neck but was careful not to leave any trace of marks, knowing the gang would see.

As she laid on her back, Soda positioned himself to her entrance, "You sure." he breathed, (Y/N) nodded her head before hiding her face in his neck with her hands on his bare back. "I wouldn't be here if I wasn't."

Soda moved forward causing the both of them to hum in harmony.

(Y/N)'s nails digging in his back with every movement.

"Soda" she moaned, while pressing her lips together.

They have waited for this moment, the tension of the pair was just too much to bare anymore longer.

As they both were reaching their Climax , Soda pressed his lips to hers before they both hit their high.

Soda fell beside her, with his arms wrapped around her body while she leaned against his side tracing shapes into his chest.

His blue eyes looked over at her with her (Y/ H/ C) messy, in her face. Making her more beautiful. "You know you're a queen?" he asked her pressing a small kiss on her forehead.

(Y/N) just smiled letting out a small laugh, "Uncrowned queen I might add."

But before the pair could get any notice, they heard the door open with loud voices following after.

The two's eyes widened before hurrying up and finding their lost clothing items with a couple of "Shits" leaving the young girls mouth  while fixing her hair in the small mirror.

The pair made it downstairs while sitting on the couch with the gang.

"What you guys do while we were gone. I bet you they did the dirty. Did you guys do the dirty?" Two-Bit laughed while raising his eyebrows up and down, causing drunk Dally punching him on the arm. "That's my sister you're talking about asshole. Soda knows better."  

Soda's blue eyes narrowed a bit ignoring what the pair were talking about. But before he knew it, (Y/N) was whispering in his ear again.

"If these walls could talk, I'd hope they wouldn't say anything. Because they've seen way too many things."

Soda gathered up the courage to respond softly in her ear, "It's so worth it."

#Sodapop Curtis #sodapop imagine #sodapop x reader #sodapop Curtis imagine #imagines #the outsiders imagine #the outsiders

[reinerispretty]

rotations. bonus! (y/n) is pregnant

can i request zuko learning that his wife is pregnant? (like after the honeymoon stage) and how would he react on the following 9 months?

Marvellous Masterpiece of series you had us read! Thank you for everything! I wanted to ask if is not too much to ask (if you want to of course... it is just a suggestion😰😂) if you can write another bonus with y/n realises she is pregnant and sees how they are with their children. The book change my perspective completely about Zuko. I love Zuko, but now... I am in love. Thank you and have a nice day! Stay safe!

I'm so sad that rotations is over!!! 😭 I'm definitely gonna reread it again! It was so good! You're such a talented writer! Thank you so much for creating such a great story ❤❤ On a side note, what about a blurb where Zuko and y/n find out they're having a baby ! 😱 I could only imagine Zuko freaking out about it 😂

as u can see....this was widely requested. thank u to everyone who did!! :) 

(Y/N) inhaled the sharp ocean breeze as she stepped off the boat. It had been years since she had been back to Ember Island. The last time she had set foot on its shores, she was sixteen and plotting to save the world from a tyrannical monster. Now, she was twenty-four, happily married, and queen of the very nation she had been fighting against. Interesting, how life worked. 

Zuko was already waiting for her at the end of the dock. He had left the palace a few days early to make sure the house was properly cleaned of any dirt, dust, and unhappy memory. (Y/N) ran into his arms and he lifted her up, spinning her in a circle before setting her gently back on her feet. 

“I missed you!” She exclaimed, before planting a kiss on his lips. Zuko smiled into it before pulling away. 

“I missed you too. How was your trip?” (Y/N) shrugged. 

“I only threw up twice! That’s got to be a new record, I think.” Zuko chuckled as he took his wife’s hand and led her up to the beach house. 

“I think you’re going to like how the house looks,” He said. “I even included a little surprise for you.” 

“A surprise!” She gasped. “I love surprises. Is it a turtle duck pond? I think everywhere we go should have a turtle duck pond.” 

“Something even better than a turtle duck pond.” (Y/N) scoffed as they walked up the rocky steps to the backyard of the beach house. 

“There’s no such thing.” As she turned to face forward, her eyes widened at the sight of all of her friends: Katara, Aang, Sokka, Toph, and Suki all stood before her, big smiles on their faces as they shouted: 

“Surprise!” 

(Y/N) immediately left Zuko in the dust, running toward her friends and enveloping them in tight hugs. She hugged Toph first, then Suki, Sokka, Aang, and saved her hug for Katara for last. They held onto each other tightly, rocking back and forth as (Y/N) cried into her shoulder. 

“Are you alright?” Katara laughed as they pulled away. (Y/N) nodded as she quickly wiped away her tears. It had been months since she had seen any of her friends, and it had been nearly years since they were all in the same place at the exact same time. To see everyone together made her more than emotional. 

“I’m sorry, I’m just really surprised and really happy! What are you all doing here?” 

“Zuko asked us all to take a well-deserved vacation,” Toph said, cracking her knuckles. 

“You’ve been working hard at the palace,” Zuko said as he came up behind her. “I wanted to show you how much I appreciate you.” 

“Aw, who knew Zuko had a heart,” Sokka joked. 

“Uh, I kind of called it the whole time,” (Y/N) laughed. She clasped her hands together. “Food! We need food and drinks and--” 

“And everything will be taken care of by the servants,” Zuko said, rubbing his hands into her shoulders. “All we have to do it relax.” 

They spent the remainder of the day at the beach, swimming and building sand castles like they had when they were young. (Y/N) had lounged on the beach beside Suki and turned her head to speak to the Kyoshi Warrior. “You know what I’m really craving? Sea prunes. They sound so good right now.” 

Sokka heard her statement and looked at her quizzically. “You hate sea prunes. Like, with a passion.” (Y/N) shrugged. 

“Maybe I’m changing as a person.” 

(Y/N) had requested of their servants that their dinner be a feast. She loaded food on to her plate and went back for seconds and thirds. She even saved room for fruit tarts for dessert. Zuko had to practically carry her upstairs to their bedroom because she was so full. 

The next morning, (Y/N) eyes flew open and she immediately ran to the bathroom. She slammed the door shut and hunched over the toilet, unfortunately throwing up all the delicious food she had eaten the night before. Although Zuko had been asleep, he was now on high-alert and knocked on the bathroom door. 

“(Y/N)? Would you let me in?” 

She coughed and shook her head weakly, even though he couldn’t see her. “No, it’s gross in here.” 

“You act like I would care. Let me in, please.” Slowly, she unlocked the door and Zuko flew in, kneeling at her side and pulling her into his chest. “Are you feeling alright?” 

(Y/N) nodded. “It was probably the sea prunes. I ate so many.” Zuko chuckled. 

“Can I ask Katara to come in and check on you?” (Y/N) nodded again and Zuko propped her gently up against the bathroom wall. Within minutes, Katara was kneeling down to check her for any illness. 

“Good morning,” (Y/N) said sarcastically. Katara laughed. 

“It’s strange for you to get sick like this. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sick.” 

“It’s because I have the blood of champions,” (Y/N) said nonchalantly. “I’m really feeling fine, Zuko’s just a worrier.” 

Katara stared at (Y/N) for a moment, her brows furrowed, before leaving the bathroom completely. (Y/N) sat on the floor, confused. While Katara was dependable and motherly, there were definitely times when she did things out of the ordinary. When she returned to the bathroom with Toph, (Y/N) thought that was definitely strange.

“No offense, but why is Toph here?” 

“Your guess is as good as mine, Fire Feet.” Katara leaned in and whispered something inaudible in Toph’s here. The earthbender’s eyes widened before an excited smile appeared on her face. She stepped closer to (Y/N) until their toes were touching. 

“(Y/N), could you tell me why I can feel two heartbeats inside of you?” (Y/N) squinted her eyes in confusion. 

“Toph, what are you talking about?” She looked up at Katara, who bit her lip to hide her smile. Suddenly, it clicked. “No way. You’re lying! Absolutely not.” 

“I don’t lie!” Toph exclaimed. “Well, not like I used to. But this time I am 100 percent telling the truth.” 

“It all makes sense!” Katara said. “Your weird cravings, your larger than normal appetite, your emotions, even throwing up this morning! You’re pregnant!” 

(Y/N’s) head felt a bit woozy. “I might need to sit down,” she said. 

“You’re already sitting.” Toph and Katara sat on the ground beside her. (Y/N) smiled at her friends. 

“I’m really pregnant?” 

“Really,” Toph confirmed. (Y/N) felt her eyes fill with tears of happiness. Her entire life, she had always wanted a child, and to think that she might have a little her or a little Zuko in the future made her heart swell with joy. 

“I have to tell Zuko,” She said. “Oh no, Zuko! He and I haven’t even talked about having kids yet. What if he-” 

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” Katara said as she helped up a hand. “Zuko absolutely adores you. I can’t imagine that he’ll be anything other than excited.” 

“He loves you more than you loved those sea prunes last night,” Toph said. (Y/N) put her face in her hands and rubbed at her cheeks. 

“Okay, I’m going to tell him.” She got to her feet and her friends followed her out of the bathroom. 

“What are you going to say?” Katara asked as they walked down the hall. (Y/N) shrugged. 

“I’m probably going to just wing it. It hasn’t failed me yet.” 

“I feel like I can name a few times-” Toph began, but Katara hushed her. 

(Y/N) walked out into the courtyard where the rest of their friends had gathered. The early morning sun was hot that day, so the servants had prepared watermelon juice and other cold items to keep their friends cool. Being from the Fire Nation, (Y/N) and Zuko had no problem with the heat. 

Zuko’s face lit up as he saw her exit the house. “Hey! How are you-” She grabbed him by the hand and pulled him toward the beach, stopping on a cool portion of sand. The waves lapped at their feet as (Y/N) turned to face him. She inhaled a deep breath as Zuko stared at her, obviously confused by the morning’s events. 

“I’m pregnant.” The expressions on Zuko’s face went from worry, to confusion, to shock, and (Y/N) could feel the nervousness creeping up within her, but she shoved it down. “Toph confirmed it. She said she could feel two heartbeats and Katara said that explained why I had been acting so weird. And I know we haven’t talked about it, and I don’t know if we’re ready, but--” 

Zuko covered her mouth with his hand to get her to stop talking. “We’re having a baby?” 

(Y/N) felt her eyes well with tears. She had known happiness before, but being here with Zuko and seeing the excitement on his face as he said “We” made her heart explode. She nodded quickly and Zuko pulled her into himself, burying his face into her neck. 

“We’re going to have a family,” He whispered, and she could feel his tears dripping onto her neck. Both of them had had less than great families. Knowing that they were making one of their own with their love of their life made them both emotional.

“I’m going to be an uncle!” Sokka exclaimed, pumping his fist into the air. Zuko and (Y/N) looked up to find all of their friends sitting at the top of the steps, eavesdropping on their conversation. “Can I be the godfather?” Sokka asked. Katara snorted. 

“You can barely take care of yourself! How are you going to take care of a baby?” 

“Simple,” Sokka said. “I’ll just strap it onto my back when I go into battle.” 

“Do you think it’ll like to go windsurfing?” Aang asked. 

“Maybe it can visit Kyoshi Island and ride the giant koi!” Suki exclaimed. 

“I just hope it doesn’t cry as much as Twinkle Toes.” Toph muttered. 

(Y/N) looked up at Zuko, who beamed down at her. They had their own little family, with their friends, and they knew that their baby would be loved so much.

---

Tag List!

@beifongsss @musicalkeys , @aroyaldarknessblr , @itsivyberry , @harryisthesunshine , @coldlilheart ,

#writing #fanfiction #zuko x reader #sokka x reader #aang x reader #katara #sokka #aang #toph #zuko #azula #iroh #momo #appa #atla #avatar #the last airbender

[thebountyfucker]

The Two Princes - Royal AU

NSFW - 18+ ONLY

Embo x F!Reader x Cad Bane

Tags: sex party, public sex, double penetration, threesome, blowjob, handjob, overstimulation, maybe ooc but this is an AU so I don't care lol

CW: mentions of drugs, prostitution, power imbalance (the reader is a hired attendant, and both Embo and Cad are princes. Reader is not a part of either of their domains, so they have no control over her. However, I did want to include it just in case)

Here's a link to my masterpost and to the application for my taglist!

“So explain to me again what is going on?”

“There’s nothing else to say.” Your boss replied as he sorted through his collection of datapads, his fingers flicking through the stack until he found the right one. He pulled it out and thrust it in your direction. “Ya gotta sign it.”

“Sign… what?” You took the datapad into your hands and powered it on. A file appeared, one that was rather lengthy and full of legal words that you couldn’t, for the life of you, understand. You parsed through the paragraphs of Aurebesh, before pausing and glancing up. “Is this an NDA?”

“Yep.” Your boss was quick to reply, turning his stout body from you to search around his office for something else. You uneasily returned your attention to the swirling legalese, and faltered. Your boss noticed your hesitancy, and sighed. “I can tell you this - it’s the royal folk. One of them is planning some shindig, and needs you and the girls to help take care of them.”

“Is it… safe?”

“You tell me. You know them royal folk better than I do.”

You wouldn’t exactly say you knew them; one one-night stand with Prince Cad hardly seemed to count, in your opinion. Though, if this party was hosted by a royal, there was a good chance that you’d get to see him again. He’d protect you if things went wrong, right? You stared down at the datapad, and your boss huffed impatiently.

“Look, sign it or don’t. I need to know who to staff now. They aren’t the patient type.”

“Alright, alright.” You scribbled your signature down on the line and your boss snatched the datapad from your hand. He tossed it aside and waddled around from the other side of the desk, gesturing with two fingers for you to follow him.

“You and the others will caravan to The Veil, where you’ll meet the employer. Remember, none of what happens tonight can be talked about, or we’ll be sued to shit. You understand?” You nodded again at this, the uneasy sensation rising in your stomach once more. Your boss glanced over his shoulder at you, and scoffed. “They ain’t gonna eat you! Relax!”

“Easy for you, perhaps.” You muttered under your breath as you both slipped into the meeting room. About fifteen young women - your coworkers - were waiting in the room. Most seemed just as confused as you were.

“The employer has everything you’ll need. Don’t let them talk you into doing anything that isn’t in your job description, okay? You’re attendants, not whores.” Your boss drawled as he crossed his arms over his chest. The last line, specifically, caught your attention. You’re attendants, not whores. What about this job warranted that comment? He had to know more than he was letting on, and this bothered you. You supposed he, likely, had to sign a similar NDA, but at the same time, you hated going into jobs blind. Things were more likely to go wrong this way… and the royals weren’t the type you wanted to disappoint. “Get your asses moving. He’s waiting on you.”

-

The Veil was unlike anything you had ever seen before - it was a meeting hall affiliated with Azvergin Hotel - a high-end joint for billionaires and royals alike. This meeting hall was just as high-class, with high ceilings and sculpted arches and hand-carved crown moulding. Columns lined the grand hall, holding the heavy mosaic ceilings from toppling to the floor. Famous artwork was displayed along the walls. You were so caught in how awe-inspiring this hall was, you hardly noticed the room was empty. There were no tables or chairs to be seen - something you expected for a function fit for royalty.

“This way.” The grounds-keeper spoke, pulling your attention from the details of the room; it was then that you finally noticed how quiet everything was. You turned towards the groundskeeper, watching as they turned down a long hallway. You jogged after them, your coworkers following closely behind.

“Where is everything?” You asked, and the groundskeeper glanced over their shoulder at you.

“Downstairs.”

“Right…”

They turned to the left and knocked on a door; a small peephole opened, and someone from within called out.

“Who are these ladies?”

“Attendants.” The groundskeeper explained. “The prince sent for them.”

The peephole closed, and the door opened instead. The guard gestured for you to enter, which you did; you slowly descended down the flight of stairs, noting that the lighting had dimmed and that low, sultry music was playing over hidden speakers. You turned to look at your girls, the pieces of this puzzle slowly forming in your head; it wasn’t until the door opened that things finally started making sense.

The room was much smaller than the grand hall above, without the frills and displays of wealth. It was hard to tell what colors the walls and floors were, given how dark the room was compared to the hall above. Plush chairs, chaises, and even beds were dotted around the room. Men and women were already wandering around, dressed in lingerie or kink apparel. They glanced at you and your party, but didn’t say anything.

Against the wall closest to the entrance of the room was a table covered in sex toys, condoms, lube, and little flags of various colors.

You understood the NDA now; this was not your typical job. No… this was a sex party. You had been hired, by one of the royals, to attend to them while they’re likely doing dope and fucking the brains out of prostitutes. Great. This would be fun.

A door to the left of the room opened up, and out stepped Prince Embo, the tall, broad chested Kyuzan prince. He wore a loosely tied satin robe, which exposed his defined chest; tattooed across his exposed skin were dark green, blocky symbols. You could make out the facsimile of a sun printed along his collarbone, though no other shapes made sense to you. Your gaze trailed down his chest and abdomen, before noting the loose tie which held his robe shut. You wondered if he was wearing anything underneath it…

Embo cleared his throat, and you startled, your gaze ripped from the knot of his closure. Your gaze flicked up to his face, before you remember that he was royalty and some royals found eye contact with subordinates to be threatening; you briefly met his gaze, noting the amusement in his face, before you cast your gaze to the floor.

“What is this?” He inquired, looking you all over; he waded through the crowd, looking over each and every one of you personally. His hand ghosted across the back of your neck, sending shivers straight down your spine. “My attendants, yes? Come. I have uniforms for you.”

You tentatively followed him into the room he had just exited from. He started rifling through a box, paying no mind as the sixteen of you gathered around you.

“What will be our role here tonight, your majesty?”

“Attendants. As is your job title.” He answered bluntly as he pulled out enough uniforms and set them aside. “You do not have to do what you are not trained for. Just offer drinks and take care of my guests.”

“I… well… okay.” You nodded as you grabbed one of the dresses - they were short, but not too revealing. Guests would definitely be able to tell the difference between you and the entertainment, even in the dim light. You held it up to you, noting that the prince was watching you. His gaze held interest, but no ill intent; you weren’t sure why, but your stomach somersaulted and your heart skipped a beat.

“Is that a problem, miss?”

“No, your majesty.” You replied, and he stood to his full height, towering over you in a way not many others could. This, embarrassingly, sent spikes of pleasure to your cunt. If he was this tall, you knew he had a huge cock to match.

“Good. My guests shall be arriving any time now. Do not keep us waiting too long.”

He ducked out of the room, giving you ample room and privacy to change. You slipped out of your work uniform and pulled on the given dress; it was red in color, and made of silk. It clung to your body, accentuating your curves; there was something about this dress that made you feel so pretty. Most other uniforms you were given were unflattering at best and purposely ugly at the best. You appreciated the prince’s good tastes.

The others gossiped about the situation you all were in as you pulled on your shoes. You weren’t much for gossip usually, but you understood how odd this situation was.

“So the rumors of the Prince are true!”

“Who knew that a royal could have such a ravenous appetite!”

“Of course he would! Those types always get what they want.”

You chuckled as your mind wandered to your night with Cad. They weren’t entirely wrong; royals were just as fickle and just as horny as everyone else. But you couldn’t imagine Cad throwing such a party. Hell, you couldn’t even imagine him attending such a circus! Prince Embo surely was something else...

You made sure your shoes were on tightly, and slipped out the door. You wanted to get a feel for the place before the chaos began. You took note of the supplies on the table near the door, and of the bar you had somehow missed. So far, there was nothing illegal, but you weren’t certain it would stay that way.

The main floor was still only populated by prostitutes at this point, despite the Prince’s warning that guests would soon be arriving. Some were fixing their hair or make-up, and some were chatting it up with anyone around. Missing, however, was the Prince. You tried to find his towering frame in the crowd, but that was easier said than done.

A hand slid across your back to your shoulders, and you jumped in surprise. You turned, noting Prince Embo staring back at you. You lowered your gaze respectfully, and he responded by wheeling you around to face him, and gripping your chin in his free hand.

“I think I would like for you to be my personal attendant tonight.” He purred, tipping your head back so he could look at you better. His glowing gold eyes searched your soul, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip in response. “Pretty thing. It is too bad you are not one of my entertainers tonight.”

His presence was engulfing, and your heart skipped a beat. His thumb brushed over your lips, and you had to stop yourself from parting your lips and accepting it into your mouth. Mindlessly, you edged closer, and the hand on your shoulder slid downward….

“Well, I’ll be damned.” A familiar voice drawled and you winced; of all the people that could have walked through the door at this time, it had to be Cad. The only royal who actively had a past with you, and the one you figured wouldn’t dare be seen at such a function. You turned away from Embo’s grasp, glancing over at an amused Cad. “Didn’t expect t’ see ya here.”

“I only hire the best.” Embo explained, sauntering over to his chair, which overlooked the rest of the room.

“Yeah. De best.” Cad smirked. There was no malice in his tone; rather, you figured this was his attempt at teasing. “Dat’s de one dat spilled wine all over yer mother’s dress."

Blood rushed to your face, and you were thankful that the lights are so dim; you had just barely forgotten about that whole mess, and now Cad had to bring it back up - to the Queen’s own son, nonetheless! You wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and die.

Your self-pitying was cut short by a loud laugh from Embo; at first, you were glad that he wasn’t upset by this information. But then, you realized that he was likely laughing at you. Your mood soured, and you crossed your arms over your chest in a pout.

“So that was you? Oh, my mother raved about you for days after that.” Embo leaned back on his little throne, spreading out like he owned the place. Maybe he did.

“I… what?” You dropped your arms, confused.

“You gave her an excuse to change out of that gods-awful dress my father bought her. She wanted to hire you to ruin whatever gifts he gave her, but we had to talk her out of it.”

“Shouldn’t have.” Cad chuckled. “It would be the best job she’d ever have in her miserable little peasant life.”

“Hey now.” You frowned. “We talked about this.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” Cad waved you off as he drew closer. “You wouldn’t happen t’ be available tonight?”

“She is an attendant, Cad. And mine for the night.”

“Figures. You always bag de good ones.” Cad shook his head as he stood; he looked you up and down with a licentious smirk. “I’ll see you ‘round, den.”

“Of course.”

You watched Cad retreat to settle in a nearby chair. One of the prostitutes - a handsome man - approached, sitting on the arm of the chair. Well… at least Cad was there in case things got out of hand.

Embo called to you, and you turned toward him; he gestured with his two fingers, watching with an intensity as you approached. You bowed your head when you reached the foot of his chair, and he tsked.

“None of that.” He told you. “There is no need for pleasantries here. Now… fetch me a drink.”

-

You had never been around so much sex in your entire life. Everywhere you turned, there was someone giving someone else head, or someone riding someone else’s dick. The room was filled with the sounds of skin against skin, of gagging, of slicked up cunts… and the moans… oh the moans!

You edged around one of the beds -where a princess was getting gangbanged by a group of various alien men- carrying the tray of goodies to your prince. Embo was leaned back in his chair, looking surprisingly bored even as two ladies fondled his cock. You leaned down to hand him his drink, which he accepted with a grunt.

“You don’t seem to be enjoying this, my Prince.”

He just shrugged nonchalantly as he sipped at his drink. “I am not feeling particularly inspired.”

With a wave of the hand, he dismissed the two ladies, and closed his robe up. You set your tray down and knelt before him. He carded a hand through your hair, muttering something in his mother tongue. “Is there anything I can do to make this a better experience?”

He glanced over at you, his gaze lazily trailing down your form; something - which you figured was lust- sparked in his golden eyes, but he was not quick to act on his feelings. He gestured with his free hand, and you offered him some sort of smokable, which you figured was not smart given his need for a breathing mask. He lit it and slumped back in his chair.

“No. Stay your course, kamour.”

“Are you sure, my Prince? I… am offering to help you. You hired me to help, right?” You inquired, reaching out to touch his hand. He glanced over at you, and you wondered how much convincing it would take him before he realized you were serious. Not much, it turned out.

“I am no monster. Say the word and I will let you go.”

“Of course.” You settled between his parted legs, your soft hands slowly sliding up his naked thighs. What was it your boss said? Oh, that you were attendants and not whores. Well, what he didn’t know wouldn’t kill him.

Your hands swept under his satin robe, parting it open to reveal his large cock. You wrapped your hand around the base of it, and slowly worked your way up his length. He was already hard from the ministrations of the prostitutes, the head of his cock flushed a deep and needy green. You leaned forward, gathering spit in your mouth before drooling it out onto his cock; you locked gazes with him as you spread your saliva down and around his shaft.

“Now, dat ain’t fair.” Cad’s voice startled you from your task, and you turned to spy him sitting on the arm of an unused chair. He was completely naked, with his arms crossed over his chest. “You said she was an attendant.”

“I did not lie. She is attending.” Embo put his mask back into place, and ran his hand through your hair. “She is doing her duty.”

“Yeah, well, I want in on dis.”

“That is up to her.”

You hardly even had to think - you reached for Cad, wrapping your hand around his slick, hard cock. You gave him a pump, and Cad hissed through gritted teeth in response. You gestured for him to move closer, and he did; the princes met gazes but said nothing to each other as you reached the other hand out to stroke Embo’s cock.

You stroked them both at the same time, reveling in the hisses and grunts trickling from their mouths. The way their cocks pulsed in your hands was enough to make your pussy tingle, and arousal slowly built within you. There was something depraved about this - about a lowly attendant pleasuring two powerful princes in the midst of a sex party - but the depravity only added to your pleasure. You could hardly stop yourself from grinding your needy cunt against the heel of your own foot.

“Enough of dis pussy-footin’. Are ya gonna suck me off or what?” Cad drawled, as impatient as ever; you quirked a brow as you leaned forward to give him a long, wet lick. He growled in response, his hands threading in your hair. “Come on, doll… don’t be teasin’ me now.”

“You forget that you weren’t the first man I was pleasing.” You replied, your voice wavering. You weren’t sure it was a good idea to talk back to him, especially in this position. Though, you supposed, you held the power when you held his cock. Any wayward comment and you were in a prime position to bite him. You figured he wouldn’t risk it.

Cad scoffed and you leaned away to wrap your lips around the head of Embo’s cock. He chuckled and leaned back.

“She is not lying.”

“You shut up.” Cad muttered as he pressed a hand to the back of your head, almost as if he was trying to guide you. You rolled your eyes but didn’t protest.

It went like this for a while - you’d take one into your mouth, bobbing and sucking like a good little whore, before pulling away to take the other one. You felt oddly powerful knowing you had the ability to bring these two princes to their knees with only a touch. You reveled in this power for as long as you could before Embo lifted you up and sat you on his lap. He pulled you close to his chest, purring.

“I am going in you.” He told you, giving you ample time to back out of it. When you didn’t protest, he lifted you as though you weighed nothing, and turned you to face Cad. He guided you onto his cock, and you winced as the head slipped into your drooling cunt. You hadn’t realized that he was quite this large. He gripped your hips, controlling how slowly you eased down onto him so you didn’t hurt yourself.

Cad waited until you were ready before offering his cock to your mouth once more. You parted your lips, your eyes half-lidded and darkened with lust, and he chuckled.

“Are ya cock-dumb already, doll?” He reached out to tangle his hand in your hair. “Are our cocks just dat good?”

You nodded in response to this, greedily latching around his cock and sucking hard. He let out a hiss and tugged at your hair, spurning you to start bobbing up and down his length. At the same time, you had fully engulfed Embo, sheathing his cock deep within you. Your whine was lost amongst the sloppy slurps of Cad’s cock easing in and out of your wet mouth.

Embo slowly, gingerly, eased in and out of you, taking care not to hurt you in the process. Every time he pulled his cock half out of you, you took Cad’s cock to the hilt with a gag. Every time Embo bottomed out within you, you pulled away to breathe. It was tough to find the right rhythm at first, but when you did, the pleasure was all-encompassing. Your head was spinning, arousal burning deep within the well of your stomach; your eyes rolled back and your hands went to your breasts, squeezing so tightly you were sure they’d bruise.

“Think she could take us both in there?” Cad asked, and your mind wandered at the prospect. You imagined the sensation of their cocks filling up your cunt, stretching you out in a way you’ve never felt before. The idea was fascinating, and a bit frightening. You didn’t realize that you were drooling around Cad’s cock until your spit splattered on your thigh.

Embo leaned you back against his chest, a finger probing at your cock-stuffed pussy. He slipped it inside, and your eyes went wide; Cad’s cock slipped from your mouth as the air vacated your lungs. You quivered against Embo, a pathetic little whimper escaping your lips.

“No… not unless you intend to split her in half.”

“Shame.” Cad shook his head; he pondered for a minute, before tipping your chin up. “Stay here. I’ll be back.”

As if you had other plans. Embo rested his head against you shoulder, purring softly. “I would like to see your pretty face, kamour.”

“Alright.” You turned around, facing the prince; you couldn’t tell for sure, but you guessed he was smiling behind that mask of his. His large hand cupped your cheek, and you leaned into his warmth.

“Beautiful.” He slowly rocked his hips up into you again, and you whimpered. “A beautiful, sex drunk whore. You like my cock, hm?”

“Yes.” You breathed, matching his thrusts by rolling your hips; his finger slipped out of your cunt, and instead stroked your swollen, trembling clit. A fire built in your stomach, and your vision went blurry. Your orgasm was within reach! You gasped out his name, your voice strained yet velveteen. Embo’s eyes brightened at this, and he reached up to wrap a steady hand around your neck.

“Say it again. Say my name again.” He commanded, his voice husky with his own desire. You whimpered.

“Embo….”

“Again!” He rubbed at your clit faster, slamming up into you with a ferocity you had never felt before. You could hardly find the strength within you, but you couldn’t displease him.

“Embo!” You cried out, your entire body quivering as the fire of orgasm consumed you. Your head danced in the clouds as your body went limp and useless against him. He held you close, his hands dancing over your form.

“Shit, did I miss out on all de fun?”

You lifted your head and glanced over your shoulder to spy Cad with his hands on his hips. You shook your head, your tongue weighing like lead in your mouth. You gestured for him to draw closer, which he did, and you gave his now condom-clad cock a stroke.

“I do think she can take more.” Embo hummed, his hand rubbing at your thigh. You nodded in agreement at this, and Cad leaned down to nip at your neck.

“Good. Do you still want to take de both of us?”

“Yes!” You chirped, and Cad chuckled.

“So eager.” Cad maneuvered you into Embo’s chest, giving him better access to your ass. Cad lubed you up with a bottle he had grabbed from somewhere, and gently eased into you. A strangled cry escaped from somewhere within you as Cad brushed against the thin, sensitive wall separating his cock from Embo’s. You could hardly keep yourself upright, the sensations quickly overwhelming you; Embo had to keep you from falling completely limp onto his chest.

“Easy now. This is not too much for you, is it?”

You shook your head at this. “N-no.”

“‘Course it ain’t.” Cad yanked on your hair, pulling your head back enough so you could look him in the eyes. He smirked, and then sheathed himself within you. You let out a cry, and his smirk deepened into a depraved smile. “Yer a good lil’ doll. You can handle us.”

“Yes! Yes!” You whined in agreement as they both slowly rocked into you. Every inch of you was set ablaze as they took turns massaging that oh-so-sensitive wall. Cad released your hair, his hand instead sliding down to roll your nipple between two of his fingers. His other hand gripped at your hip, keeping you steady. Embo’s hand returned to your clit, pinching and rolling the overstimulated bud around until you were panting and pleading for release. Your admissions only made them hasten their paces, and soon, they were both slamming into you. Your head lolled back on your useless neck, resting squarely on Cad’s chest; your legs quivered and jerked as you chased after your second orgasm. Hands wandered, acquainting themselves with every aspect of your body; this only added fuel to the fire which threatened to consume you once more.

With only a few more thrusts, you came undone. Your vision went white as you rode waves of pure bliss, only faintly aware of how erratic their paces had become. It wasn’t until Cad lurched forward and bit you that you were pulled from your euphoria.

His fangs pierced your skin, surely drawing blood; his orgasm, contained by the condom, manifested in quick, jerky motions up into you. Slowly, he eased out of you, lapping up any blood that had trickled from the wound.

Embo found his pleasure not long after that, shooting his cum deep within you; the searing heat of his seed was unexpected, but wasn’t unpleasant. You were almost certain that if he hadn’t been wearing his mask, he probably would have bit you too. He, unlike Cad, didn’t ease out of you. He let you decide what it was you wanted to do, even if it meant keeping his soft cock in you until he hardened up again. You did, however, ease off of him to sit on his lap.

“Dat was good, doll. I might need t’ keep ya around.”

“Yes, well, you may have competition.” He leaned toward you, humming. “Though, I suppose it would be your choice.”

“Who says I have to choose?” You managed, your voice sultry. They cast glances at each other, and Cad shrugged.

“‘Spose that could work.”

Taglist!: @sat-nam-saint @that-clone-wars-girl

You leaned back into the warm chest of one of your Princes. Huh. You liked the sound of that. Who would have thought that someone like you could pull two Princes!

-

#cad bane #embo #royal au #star wars smut #smut #star wars #my fanfiction #iri writes

[alexiessan]

The brother you never asked for - One Shot

AO3

@neakco​ asked: "I saw an ask for prompts so I would like to request a sibling Jasonette where Jason is in Paris trying to win a bet with Dick over who can find the best pastries, which is how he finds/meets Marinette. Everything else is open to the freedom of your imagination."

Here is Jasonette Siblings :) 

@justafanwarrior​ @animegirlweeb​

Why was Jason running in the streets of Paris at seven in the evening again?

Ah, right. To win a bet against Dick.

The two oldest adopted children of Bruce Wayne had agreed to accompany their father on a business trip to the French capital. Damian still had school to attend and Tim was to manage the company while the CEO was away.

He didn’t really need any of his children to accompany him, but who would say no to a trip to Paris?

Bruce had a lot of meetings planned for the two weeks trip, and it took only two days for the two men to get bored. Paris wasn’t new for them and they’ve already seen all the touristic spots.

And so, they were just watching some movie in Richard’s hotel room when he had a craving for pastries.

“Let’s go to Ladurée! They have awesome macarons!” the oldest exclaimed, his mouth already watering at the thought of chocolate macaron.

Jason frowned. “Eh, really? It’s overpriced and overrated there.”

“But they are the best I’ve ever had.”

“That’s because you didn’t try to find the very best. It’s France, there are bakeries in almost every street. There must be one that makes better pastries than Ladurée.”

La maison Ladurée was a famous bakery in Paris, known for its macarons. Every tourist always ended up going there at one point or another during their stay in Paris.

While their macarons were good, it was too much of a tourist spot for Jason’s taste. There probably was a bakery out there that sold better macarons than the famous Maison Ladurée.

Urgh. Even the name sounded made him want to cringe. Snobbish much, huh?

“Then, let’s find it,” said Dick with a serious voice.

Jason looked away from the TV to face his brother. “Huh?”

Richard rolled his eyes. “Get your ass up this couch and let’s go find the best bakery in Paris!”

The second oldest of the Wayne siblings raised an eyebrow. “Do you realize how many bakeries there are in just Paris? We can’t possibly try them all.”

“You’re right. That’s why,” Dick paused, showing Jason his smartphone, “I’ve researched the best bakeries of Paris. I found two lists with a top ten of the best bakeries of Paris, and they don’t have one in common with the other!” he grinned, “so, I suggest we each take a list and try them all, and come back with a box of macarons from the one we thought was best!”

Jason looked at the list. If he tried them all and figured that the best one was one of the first he tried, it would mean going back there to buy a full box of macarons. It would be annoying to go back there again, but doable.

“What does the winner win?” he finally asked.

“Eh… Bragging rights?” at Jason’s expression, he tried again. “We’ll figure it out later.”

“Right. Then, may the best man win.”

They shook hands and were off in a matter of seconds.

This is how Jason found himself in front of the last bakery of the list — the one ranked second in the list, but it was the one the farthest from their hotel, and thus, the last one he tried — hoping it was closed yet. He really hoped this one would be the best because he wouldn’t have the time to go back to one of the other bakeries before closing time.

When he opened the door, he was met with a lot of pink. It was a cute and cozy bakery, making you want to find a seat, drink hot chocolate, and read next to the window while it was raining outside.

At the desk was a teenage girl around Damian’s age — sixteen, seventeen-year-old top — who looked visibly upset over something on her phone. When she heard him enter, she put the phone away, blinked several times to get rid of the tears that had gathered in her eyes, and smiled at him.

“Welcome to Tom et Sabine boulangerie pâtisserie! How can I help you?” she greeted him in French.

Jason made his way to the counter, looking over the different pastries. He glanced at the girl, patiently waiting for his order. She had black hair and blue eyes, half French and half Asian he guessed. She had a smile on her face, and not just a customer one, giving that she was visibly upset when he arrived, but a genuine one.

It made him want to ask her if he had to go and threaten someone, but he didn’t know the girl, and she didn’t know him, and what right did he have to ask?

“I’ll have a chocolate macaron, please,” he answered in French but with a heavy American accent.

She noticed and switched in English, which he was grateful for. He could speak French, but since he didn’t have the opportunity to practice it often, he was a bit rusty in the language.

“Of course, a big one or a small one?”

“A small one, please.”

She put the small macaron on a towel with a clamp and put it on the counter. “It will be one euro, please!”

He thanked her while paying and wasted no time in eating the small treat. The teen girl laughed when she saw him eat it in one bite.

“You know what?” he began after swallowing, deciding that this was the best one he had in his search. “I’ll take a whole box of these. I’ll even take two big ones!”

“Alright! That will be nine euros and fifty cents, please!” she said with a smile before preparing his order.

“Thanks again!” he said while handing her the money. “If the other pastries are as good as the macarons, you’ll see me again.”

She laughed. “I’m not exactly impartial, but the pastries are really, really good! So I guess I’ll see you again.”

He barked a laugh. “You can bet on it then!”

“Have a good night, sir!”

“Thanks!”

When he got back to the hotel room, Dick was already there with his own box of macarons, and they didn’t waist one more second before tasting the other’s finding.

Jason won, of course, and demanded fifty bucks as his reward.

And wasn’t it good to win a bet against his brother.

Just like he said he would, Jason came back to the bakery, with Dick with him. They tried all sorts of pastries, and even some quiches for lunch and everything was delicious. Dick made sure to note the name of the bakery somewhere on his phone so they could come back the next time they would come to Paris.

The teenage girl was still there, managing the desk and talking with the two of them when they stayed a bit longer to enjoy their food.

They learned that her name was Marinette and that she was seventeen — making her Damian’s age, just as Jason thought — and that she was the daughter of the owner. Since it was summer vacations, she helped her parents since they had more clients than ever thanks to tourism.

They learned that she was a fashion designer and that she learned English because of it. Since she wanted to start her own business one day, someone recommended that she learn English if she wanted it to be international. Speaking only one language wouldn’t do well, she explained.

While she was still in school, she had a small customer base already and did everything that needed to be done for it to be legal, and thus, was a freelance in fashion design. She was still in high school, entering her last year in September. She even expressed her desire to go to University in America, in a double major — fashion and business.

They visited the bakery every day for a week, learning to know each other a bit, but never once did she tell them anything that was upsetting her.

And Jason couldn’t help but wonder what could bring such a cheerful and positive girl like Marinette so close to tears.

It was on their last week in Paris that Jason found out.

He was on his way to the bakery to get his daily dose of pastries when he saw Marinette sitting on a bench in the park near her family’s business and home.

And she was crying.

He didn’t think about it as he made his way to Marinette and sat next to her.

“So, tell me, whose butt do I need to kick?”

She almost jumped, not having noticed him.

“God,” she breathed, “you scared me, don’t do that again.”

“My bad,” he apologized. “But tell me, what’s wrong?”

She let out a joyless laugh. “It’s okay, I don’t want to burden you with my teenage drama.”

He playfully elbowed her. “Now, now. I’ve been a teen too, you know. And I know all about teenage drama. And I know that it’s not just nothing to you, right now. Maybe, later on, you’ll think so, but it matters to you now, so it’s important, you understand?” she nodded. “Just because you’re a teenager, it doesn’t mean your problems are meaningless, alright? I know adults tend to downplay teenager’s problem, but not me.” he ruffled her hair. “Now, tell everything to your big brother.”

She laughed and shoved him playfully. “You’re not my brother!”

“Well, now I am! I’m the brother you never asked for but got anyway. Deal with it.”

She laughed again, and he felt like he succeeded a little in cheering her up. “Alright, ‘big brother’, I’ll talk.”

She took a deep breath before facing him.

“It’s my boyfriend. He canceled on me. Again.” she laughed. “I know I shouldn’t be upset to be stood up, and I wasn’t the first time. Or the second. Or the third. But I’ve lost count of the times he ditched me for his friends, or for an event that just happened. And I tried to be understanding at first. It’s just… I’m doing everything to make our relationship work. I plan dates, even double dates because I know how much he loves his friends — our friends. But it feels like it’s one sided,” she paused, taking another deep breath. “But I haven’t properly talked to him in months because he keeps standing me up. I just… Does he want to break up with me? Is that what’s he’s trying to do, but is too much of a coward to do it properly? I… I guess I’m just realizing now that we haven’t be fine for months now.”

Jason sighed. “I can’t tell you what he’s thinking, and what is his reasoning behind his behavior because I don’t know him, but I’ll tell you this: it takes all the people involved in a relationship for it to work. If the other doesn’t put any work in it, it can’t work. It can be fixed, however, but you already tried, didn’t you?”

She nodded.

“Then, since you already try to fix your relationship, you have to ask yourself this question: are you happy with him?”

Tears gathered again in her eyes and she shook her head. “No… No, Jason, I’m not happy anymore.”

He opened his arms, inviting her in a hug, and she immediately threw herself in her arms.

“Then, I think you know what to do.”

They stayed like that for a few minutes, until Marinette stopped crying.

“I’m sorry, I barely know you and I just dumped all my problems on you.”

“Hey, when I said that I was now your brother, I meant it. I take my duties as a big brother very seriously.”

The fashion designer laughed. “What, you just picked people on the street and claimed they are now your sibling or something?”

“No, you’re just special.”

She laughed. “I’m nothing special, but thank you. For listening to me and offering me friendship. I really appreciate it.”

He patted her hair. “Anytime, chouquette.”

They exchanged numbers before parting ways, this time without any pastries with him.

The next morning, Jason received a text from Marinette, stating that she broke up with her boyfriend. He asked for details, and she explained that he has been oblivious to it all and didn’t understand why she was breaking up with him. She said that she gave up on explaining anything and that they were just over.

He and Dick spent the last week at the bakery, trying to cheer Marinette up, which was not as hard as he expected it to be. While Marinette was sad that her relationship was over, she was also relieved. She had been hurt too much, and it was a good thing that she wouldn’t be hurting anymore.

Their two weeks stay unfortunately came to an end, and it was time to say goodbye to Marinette.

“Say, what do you think about going to Gotham for university,” he asked her with a grin. “We could see each other much more then.”

She snorted. “Yeah, right. Going to the most dangerous city in America. No thanks, I think I’ll pass.”

He pouted. “But I would protect you.”

She laughed. “I have no doubt you would, but I think I’ll go to New York. I have an internship offer there than I can do alongside my studies,” she paused. “But hey, Gotham and New York are pretty close, no? We can still see each other.”

“One of my brothers is actually going to university in New York too next year! I’ll tell him to look after you!”

“What?! Come on Jason, I don’t need anyone looking after me!”

“Tutututu! Let your big brother handle it!”

“But you’re not my brother!”

#maribat #jasonette siblings #ooc characters i guess #ml x dc #mlb x dc #miraculous x dc

[theshelbyclan]

Swords and Daggers

Summary: When a family meeting is interrupted by your sudden menstrual cramps, your brothers do everything in their power to take care of you

(gif by @nofckingfighting​) A/N: Anon requested: can you do a shelby!sister imagine where she’s gets these awful cramps and in the middle of a family meeting she just bursts into tears because it hurts so bad and omg the boys would be so soft As I’m currently dying of cramps, it made sense to write this. It’s short, but I hope you like it. Words: 1585 *** “This Saturday,” Tommy started, “We’re going legit. John, you and Johnny Dogs are gathering the men at the Charlie’s yard. Arthur, I need you on the tracks, keep the Lee men off. You can take Finn. I will create a distraction and… Y/N, are you okay?” “Fine,” you ground out, not really wanting to attract attention to yourself, “Tell me where I’ll be.” 

“At home,” your brother said shortly. “Like hell I am,” you said, “If we’re going legit, I want in. Why the fuck else am I even here?” “Fuck if I know,” Polly sighed, “being decorative, I suppose.” Tommy shot daggers at his aunt and then turned back to you, “If you ladies have any problems with how I run…” “If we have any problems, we know to shut out mouths and get on with it,” Ada commented from the other side of the round table. “Remember we used to run this entire organisation, Thomas,” Polly scolded, “While you boys were off to France.” “Yes,” Thomas sighed, downing his drink, “I am aware, Pol,” Her look still had some effect on him, much to her satisfaction, “You remember that when you no longer care for our input.” “Fine!” he caved, “Y/N, what role do you want to play?” But you had stopped listening already. In all honesty, you didn’t feel well at all and so Tommy’s words seem to come from very far away. Still, you’d fought years and years to feel like you were a part of the Shelby Company Limited. Women were respected in this family, but never quite on the same level as the men. Sure, it’d been fine for you to take care of business while your brothers were away, and you and Aunt Polly had happily taken on the entire enterprise. With her head for strategy and your head for numbers, sharing the iron Shelby backbone, it’d been quite the dream team. But the boys came back and without many words of thanks, it’d been taken from you as well. There were so many mixed emotions that came with their return from France, but a day didn’t go by that you didn’t curse those men up top who decided to send boys into the mud to die for them. Tommy still stared at you, impatient and a little annoyed, so you said, “I’ll go to Epsom early. I still have the dress. I’ll let Arthur know where the Lee men are and what they’re planning.” Arthur grumbled something inaudibly and when you fixed him with one of your glares, he said, “You want to waltz in there, all dolled up and ready for the taking by any Lee bastard?” “Think I can’t do it, Arthur?” you said coldly. “We know you can do it,” Tommy interrupted, “Doesn’t mean we have to like it.” “I’m not fucking seven, Thomas,” you spat. Another sharp pain went through you and you found yourself physically doubling over in your chair. John immediately turned towards you, “What’s the matter?” “I’m good,” you tried to smile. “Doesn’t look like it…” “Maybe it’s food poisoning,” Arthur ventured. “It’s not.” “What is it then?” Both brothers said in unison. “Just…” you gritted your teeth as another wave of pain came over you, “leave me alone!” “Can’t do that, little sister,” Arthur moved to touch your arm, but you angrily pushed him away.

“She’s not doing good, Tommy,” John’s voice was full of alarm.

Arthur even stood up, “And she’s not fighting any bloody Lee men like that!”

“Calm down,” Aunt Polly said, “Women have been doing it for ages, every month, come hell or high water.”

“That may be so,” Tommy put down his drink, “but this is our sister.”

“I’m fine…” you croaked again, but you weren’t, at all.

“You’re not,” another unhelpful brother said, “you need to be in bed.”

“WILL YOU ALL FUCKING STOP TELLING ME WHAT TO FUCKING DO!” you suddenly burst out, and before you knew it, you had started sobbing.

“Oh no…” John said softly.

“Tom,” Arthur said unsurely, not knowing what to do with himself, “What do we do?”

He quickly took charge and picked you up from your seat. Held bridal style, he walked around the table and you could feel your brothers’ gaze on you, “She needs to be in bed.”

You still protested weakly, “Tommy…”

“Shhh,” he said softly, “We can talk about your plan to seduce the Lees in the morning, eh?”

As he walked with you up the stairs, you suddenly felt yourself lean into him. It felt safe, right there in his arms.

“Water bottles?” you heard one panicky brother shout downstairs.

“Boil the water!” the other replied, “I’ll get the blankets!”

“Ada! Where the bloody hell did you hide that chocolate?!”

You had to smile a little, “You’d think I’m dying…”

“Well, the truth is, sweetheart,” Tommy said in that soft voice he reserved only for you, “We have no idea what you’re going through. We spend half our lives talking to women, flirting with women, being with women…”

“Yeah, alright, I get the point,” you cut him off jokingly.

He pretended like he hadn’t heard you, but a small smile was tugging at his lips, “But we have no idea what it feels like, to lose all that blood…”

“What about France?” you asked.

“That was different, love,” he gently placed you on your bed, “That was a one-time thing and not a monthly struggle. Besides, we weren’t expected to just ignore it and get on with work.”

“I want to work,” you pouted.

Tommy sighed, “Y/N. Listen to me. I know you want to work for the company. I know you. You’re a Shelby and you don’t like being idle. I know. But for tonight, work is done. Get some sleep, eh?”

Suddenly, Arthur came rushing in. It was clear he felt incredibly awkward, but the fact that his arms were filled with hot-water bottles, blankets and chocolate showed he cared, deeply. There were times that you loved your awkward brother more than anyone in the world, and this was one of those moments. You smiled at him full of gratitude and he left quickly after, knowing he’d be back every few hours to check on you. He was the oldest brother after all.

You tried to find a comfortable position for a few moments and the occasional grunt of pain escaped your lips. Tommy looked at you with worry written all over his face, “Don’t know how you fucking do it every month…” he whispered.

“Careful,” you feigned shock, “people might think you’re a feminist.”

He slowly lit a cigarette, “And what if I am, eh?”

You scoffed and reached out, “Give me the cigarette. It helps.”

Another few minutes passed and John stuck his head around the door, “Y/N? Esme tells me it helps when I rub her back. Do you need me to do that?”

“I’ll be fine, John, thanks,” you smiled at him. Where you and Arthur had a bond that required no words, with John it was all words, but they were always good and open and honest. If you needed to talk, you turned to John.

He paused for a second, “What about a doctor, do you need a doctor?”

This made you laugh out loud, “John, sweetheart, this is perfectly normal and it does happen every month. We’d be wasting the doctor’s time!”

“Esme told me to tell you that it’s perfectly normal and there’s nothing wrong with you…”

“I know, John. I’m sixteen: I’ve been doing this for a while now.”

“Right,” he mumbled, “I knew that…”

“John?” you eventually asked and when he looked at you again, you said, “Thank you. I’ll manage.”

“Will you let me know?” John said with a serious look on his face, “If you do need something?”

“How? You’re four houses away. I’m not screaming loud enough for you to hear it, waking up the whole bloody street!”

“Just knock,” he replied, “Sleeping in my old bed tonight, just down the hall,” and before you could protest, he was gone and called from the hall, “Goodnight, babe!”

Tommy still sat in the corner, smoking quietly. You weren’t quite sure why he was there, but his presence was comforting. With Arthur it was protection, with John it was words, but with Tommy it was just his presence. When you two locked eyes, he gave you a warm smile, and it was just like you were six again. Before that god-awful war, he’d always been there. Tommy was the brother who couldn’t be dragged away from his little sister, always trying to get you to ride his pony. He followed you wherever you went and he gave you everything you ever wanted. But after the war, his head was filled with smoke, mud and ambition. But this, this felt like before, and it was good. Maybe it was even worth the swords and daggers attacking your uterus at the moment.

You started feeling yourself drifting off to sleep, with the warm bottle pressed against your abdomen. But before you slept, you mumbled, “I love you, Tommy…”

“Is this another hormonal thing?” a deep voice said in reply, with some sarcasm echoing through.

“Probably,” you smirked, “I’ll hate you again tomorrow, alright?”

“Good. You can take out that anger on the Lees, eh?”

“I will,” you heard your own voice was getting muffled. Still, you felt a small triumph of being allowed to go in the morning.

“Sleep, Y/N,” he almost sung, from a great distance it seemed, “And I love you too.”

***

Masterlist

#Peaky blinder imagine #shelby sister #sister shelby #shelby sister imagine #shelby sister reader #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #shelby sis #sister!shelby #shelby!sister #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #cillian murphy #peaky blinders fanfic #john shelby #arthur shelby #polly gray #the shelby clan #peaky blinders fluff

[earthlostgirl]

This is probably the weirdest fic I've ever written. ha ha ha ha ha But I wanted to see them in that situation....

New, Old life

When Spike opened the door, Faye was sitting on the stool, drinking something steamy from a cup. She smiled when he held out a sunflower.

“What have you done?” she asked, putting the cup down on the table and looking at him skeptically.

“Don’t you know what day it is today?” Spike asked, approaching her and holding out the flower.

“Would I have to know?” she asked as she took it.

“It’s our anniversary, it’s been twenty years since we met.” Spike shoved his hands in his pockets and stood in front of her, smiling.

“Twenty years? How old I am... I hate you for making me feel old.” Faye brought the flower closer to the face so she could smell it and smiled.

“You’re always so romantic.” Spike moved close and kissed her on the lips. “Are we alone?” he asked as he hiked her skirt up to her thighs.

“No,” Faye murmured, gently passing her hands down Spike’s back. “Vera’s in her room... with a boy.”

“What? Your sixteen-year-old daughter is in her room, alone, with a boy?”

“My daughter? She’s fifty-fifty yours...”

“I don’t think that’s funny.”

“Don’t be paranoid...”

“Paranoid? I lost my virginity when I was thirteen. I know very well what a teenager of that age thinks about girls... At her age I...”

“At her age, you had killed people. I don’t think they are comparable lives,” she interrupted him.

“I at least have memories of everything I did...”

“If she wants to sleep with that boy, she will wherever it is. I prefer it to be under my roof, so if she needs my help, I’ll be there to rip the balls off anyone who wants to go overboard with her,” he said, standing up. “But you’ve always preferred to shoot before you ask.”

Spike hated seeing that hurt look on her face. Over the years, he hadn’t learned to shut his fucking big mouth and stop saying things that hurt her when he got pissed.

He followed Faye into the room. Apologizing was another thing he hadn’t learned.

“Where are you going?” he asked, sitting on the bed.

“To get Jean from training.” Faye hadn’t learned to stop running away instead of facing problems, either.

“It’s two hours before she leaves,” he sighed, trying to remain calm.

“I know,” she replied harshly, as she was shoving things into the bag.

Spike set his eyes on the dresser. There was a little white box with a note on top. He walked over to look. It was a pregnancy test, on the note was written in Faye’s neat handwriting: “Dad?”

“Are you...?” Spike asked, showing her the package.

“I don’t know... I wanted to wait until you were here to find out, but since you’re an idiot,” Faye said, taking it out of his hands. “Now, fuck you.”

“Faye...” He made no move to stop her.

“Try not to kill the kid in front of your daughter. I don’t want you to traumatize her for life,” she snorted sarcastically.

She left the room without looking back, putting on her jacket and holding her car keys in her hand.

Spike just sat smoking in the kitchen, his eyes glued to the stairs leading upstairs. He heard a door open and laughing voice.

Vera came down the stairs, smiling. She was the spitting image of her mother; the same hair color, the same skin tone, she was tall and thin, she even had the same haughty mannerisms. She was followed by a boy, a 16-year-old teenager who was as awkward as a teenager could be, with messy hair and a little fuzz on his face.

Vera smiled in delight at the sight of him and hugged him.

“Why are you smoking?” she asked, pinning her brown eyes to him.

Spike shrugged and looked at the boy above her.

“Who is he?” Spike asked, looking at his daughter in a serious tone.

“Hello sir...” the boy stuttered nervously. “I’m Ricky.”

He nodded to him, and his daughter gave him a cheeky glance.

“He’s my boyfriend.” Vera shook the head, waving her long hair and placed her hands on the hips.

Spike held back a laugh as she pushed the boy in front of him.

“Want a beer, kid?” He asked, moving over to the cooler.

“I can’t drink alcohol... I’m a minor sir.”

Spike enjoyed making the boy nervous more than he had imagined.

“I didn’t ask you that,” he replied seriously.

“I... uh... I,” the boy didn’t know what to say or where to jump in, wondering if this was some kind of test he had to pass.

“Do you want one, sweetie?” Spike asked Vera, who smiled at him in disbelief with a hint of malice.

“That smile only works for your mother, so don’t even try it.” Spike smiled smoothly as he opened three beers and set them on the table. “If you think I don’t know you drink once in a while you’re very naïve.”

Vera took hers and raised it to her lips.

“I’ve only tried it,” she said, dropping her long eyelashes and putting on a sweet, girlish voice.

Spike raised an eyebrow in disbelief as he passed the other bottle of beer to Rick.

They sat on the couch, listening as Vera enthusiastically talked about her plans for the summer. Rick nodded, ready to follow her wherever she went.

A car horn blared down the street. Rick waved goodbye with a limp handshake, and Vera walked him to the door.

Spike sighed in exhaustion. She would be the one to break the boy’s heart, his little witch, beautiful and evil. The little boy looked up at her from the door with a goofy face and she blew him a kiss.

When he closed the door, Vera jumped onto the couch and snuggled up against him.

“You don’t like him at all, do you?” she said, taking the beer that her friend hadn’t even touched.

“You don’t like him either,” said Spike, taking the bottle from her hands and she pouted in disgust. “Don’t push it.”

She huffed, crossing her arms and leaning back on the couch.

“Have you finished all your homework?” he asked, lighting a cigarette. She gave him a grim look.

“You smoke too much,” Vera said, crossing her legs on the couch, “I don’t know how mom can kiss you if you taste like a cigarette butt.”

“Your mother quit smoking when she got pregnant with you,” Spike smiled. “She smoked as much as I do. She kisses me because she wants to taste cigarettes, not because she loves me.” Spike joked.

“Well, you could have quit smoking for her, couldn’t you?” She smirked mischievously “Or is it you didn’t love me? Am I an unwanted daughter? Did I destroy your dreams of being a rock star?” Vera put her hand to her forehead and threw herself on top of him. She loved drama. “You were forced to raise a child...”

“A demon is what I raised,” Spike said, grabbing her waist and tickling her.

Vera burst out laughing, kicking as she tried to get rid of him.

“I’m going to call Rick,” she said when she got rid of him.

“He won’t even have made it home...”

“I miss him already...” she said as she hummed up the stairs.

Spike heard the street door opening and a little girl with her hair in a messy ponytail came running in, leaving a sports bag on the ground, jumped on him, and hugged him.

Jean had the same skin color as him. She was lanky and thin. Just like Vera, she had the same hair color as Faye, dark and straight. She had huge green eyes and the same charming smile as her father.

“I pulled off an incredible goal,” she said, sitting on his lap. “You should have seen it. I tackled one of the girls, I got stitches,” Jean said, pushing her bangs aside and showing him the wound. “I broke two of her teeth.”

“But it was training...” Spike looked at her, smiling as he examined the girl’s wound.

“I don’t know where she got that habit of fighting until the last bloody second, even if she gets hurt,” Faye said, throwing her jacket on the couch.

“It was amazing,” Jean said, jumping to her feet, “I ran all over the field, Mel passed me the ball, I grabbed it hard, Judy ran to me and...” She couldn’t stop talking, she was hysterical, she was ecstatic, her big green eyes were shining with happiness. “I plated her, bam! I head-butted her, jumped over her, and threw with all my heart into the net...”

Jean jumped onto the couch and flipped over.

“I’m starving,” she blurted as she bolted for the kitchen.

“I think Ed bit me when I was pregnant with her and she’s infected,” Faye sighed, dropping onto the couch.

She looked at the beer bottles and the cigarette butts in the ashtray, gave him a questioning look, and kissed him on the lips.

“How I missed it,” she muttered, running the tongue over her lips.

Spike leaned in to kiss her again, and she pulled away, smiling as she put her hand to his face.

“Dad,” Jean shouted from the kitchen. “I can’t reach the cookie jar.”

“Do you have to scream like a manic?” Vera spoke, stepping up behind her and lowering the boat. “There is no way to talk on the phone .”

“You talk on the phone all the time,” Jean replied. “I don’t know how you have things to tell.”

“When you’re older, you’ll understand...”

“When you’re older, you’ll understand,” she mimicked her, sticking her tongue out and showing the half-chewed cookie in her mouth. “Snob”

“What a disgusting brat.” Vera gave Jean a shove and headed for the living room. “Mom! Tell Jean to eat with her mouth closed.”

“Eat with her mouth closed, Jean,” Faye sighed, looking at Spike, who leaned back in the seat with his hands over his head, putting his feet up on the table.

“But Mom,” jean replied, sitting back in the easy chair. “Vera started it. She said I suck.”

“You showed me the food.”

“Snob!”

“Monster!”

“Oh god,” Faye complained, holding her hands to her forehead. “I should have abandoned you in a basket downstream...”

“Mama!” said the little girl indignantly, squatting down on the couch and wiggling like a cat about to pounce on its prey.

Jean was about to jump on Faye, but Spike stopped her in her tracks.

“Enough, both of you,” he added, slinging the girl over his shoulder like she was a sack of potatoes, while she kept bursting out laughing. “I’m sure you have better things to do than fight and annoy your mother and me.”

Spike put her down, and Jean pouted at him, which he endured stoically before sending her to her room. Vera mumbled an “I can’t wait to be old enough to leave home” and left, huffing down the stairs.

They were alone in the kitchen again. Spike was sitting on the stool, turning in on himself, holding the sunflower in one hand.

Faye looked up at him as she nibbled on a chocolate stick. He stopped and held out his hand to her. Faye hesitated for a second, but she took it, and he gently tugged and caught her between his legs.

“Are you not angry anymore?” he inquired, taking her hands and caressing them gently.

“I can’t be mad at you, you just wanted to protect your daughter. I’m sure you’d kill the little girl who put a gash on Jean.” Faye kissed him on the forehead. “You even stopped the little girl from jumping on me, you can’t help it.”

“Are we having a baby?” he asked, clasping his hands behind her back.

“Yes...” Faye leaned her head on his shoulder. “I’m too old for this now.”

“Sure, you’re over a hundred years old,” he teased, stroking her hair.

“Spike...” she broke away, looking at him, annoyed. He caught her before she could take another step back.

“Do you think the chromosome gods will give us a boy this time? There are very few dicks in this house.” Spike rested his hands on Faye’s belly and moved closer to speak into her belly button. “Olive, Can you hear me? Can you develop a penis for me?”

“What a fool you are,” Faye told, running her hands through his hair.

“I’m in the minority...” Spike pulled her to him and hugged her by sliding his hands around her waist. “You can conspire against me... And murder me and eat at my corpse...”

“You’re the king of the house.” Faye kissed him on the hair and he lifted her by the waist, sitting her on top of him.

“Shall we keep it a secret for now?” Spike kissed her neck, and she wrapped her arms around him as she nodded her head. “The girls are going to go crazy.”

“This still terrifies me like the first day,” Faye whispered, hugging him. “I still have nightmares about the Syndicate...”

“I know, I sleep with you.” he cupped her face with both hands and kissed her nose. “I have them too, but we’ll be fine.”

“Yeah,” she smiled frankly. “Happy anniversary, Spike.”

“Happy anniversary, Romani.”

by the way it's another girl

#cowboy bebop #spike x faye #kid #spike spiegel #fanfiction #a weird fanfic #just and old one that i just translated #faye valentine #spaye #spike having a lot of daughters is something I find very funny.