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[bussyslayer333]

Heart Out

summary: your boyfriend proves his love for you on the beach, so you prove yours in the hard deck bathroom.

pairing: jake seresin x penny’s niece!reader

word count: 2.8k

warnings: smut at the end once again,, but it’s jakes turn this time :0, some swearing, and mentions of dilfs/daddy issues LOL,, MDNI 18+

ps this is my lil continuation of jake x penny’s niece!reader bc i love them <3

((it can be read separately ofc !!))

requests are open as always !!!

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿

Today had been dreadfully boring. Your aunt Penny was out all day at the Hard Deck working on accounts and you couldn’t even pester your little cousin Amelia because she had also been out all day with friends. You’d thought about visiting Jake at work but you weren’t sure whether you were at that stage of your relationship yet. So instead, the best option seemed to be lounging around in your underwear watching Desperate Housewives reruns in the living room. As you flopped over onto your front trying to escape the San Diego heat that you still weren’t accustomed to, a notification popped up onto your phone.

cowboy ❤️

come join me at the beach?

photo

You opened the message to a selfie from Jake in what appeared to be the Hard Deck bathrooms. He was stood shirtless flexing his arms into the mirror doing a little pouty face staring down the camera. You giggled at his stupidly handsome face that somehow manages to look good no matter what he was doing.

You

are you not at work? ❤️

cowboy ❤️

annual dogfight football baby

With that message accompanied a picture Jake had taken over his shoulder of Rooster and Mav shirtless and covered in sand. Suddenly it clicked why your aunt had travelled to the bar to complete tasks which definitely could have been finished at home. Deciding to wind Jake up you replied to the second picture he sent, ignoring his first selfie

You

how does mav still look so good? talk about dilf 🤤

Giggling as you sent the message you put your phone down and decided to finally peel yourself away from the couch to start getting ready for the beach.

Flipping through the variety of swimsuits you had bought with you, you wondered which one Jake would like best. Although Jake would like to call himself a man of taste, when it came to his girl his taste in her clothing was sparse to say the least. Settling on a blue two piece with strings that tied it all together, you moved to pick up Jake’s button up that you had kept since one fateful night in his truck. It was light blue and quite fitted on him but it hung nicely on you and could work as a cover up if the sea breeze became too strong.

You span around to look at yourself in the floor length mirror in the corner of your room. Jake was going to love this. You plucked your sunglasses from the bedside table and placed them on your head so you could finally make your way back downstairs to your phone and tote bag.

Picking up you phone you smirked at Jake’s many replies.

cowboy ❤️

shut up

you’re not being serious right?

because i don’t know the ins and outs of your relationship with your father for that to be a funny text

that emoji makes it seem like a joke

i mean yeah ig he keeps it tight for a guy who gets senior discounts

You interrupted his next text by gracing him with a response.

you

shush jake obv im joking

….we will talk later tho

You then sent a photo of yourself in the mirror near the front door, chest pushed slightly out. You knew your audience.

cowboy ❤️

ur such a tease

you

see u soon flyboy <3

The drive down to the Hard Deck is brisk, not much traffic for a midweek afternoon in Miramar. As you pull into the Hard Deck’s parking lot you recognise a few of the pilots cars and you pull in next to Rooster’s bronco, scoffing at the fuzzy dice hanging from his rear view mirror. That boy was seriously stuck in the 70s.

Moving out of your car, you walk down to where you can see your aunt ‘working’ on one of the benches outside of the Hard Deck that faces the beach front. She slowly averts her gaze from Mav and smiles up at you,

“Hi darling, I wasn’t expecting to see you here?” You giggle as her attention slips from you again when Mav throws the ball particularly well over to Payback.

“Yeah, Jake text me asking if I wanted to join.” She giggles at your dreamy smile and pulls you down onto the bench next to her. Once you’re sat and your belongings have been placed down next to Penny’s you scour the group of pilots to find your boyfriend.

However, as you rake over the group you come to the realisation that he isn’t stood with them. That put an odd feeling in your stomach, Jake was never ever one to miss out on a competition. As you were about to question you aunt, you saw Bob approach with an uneasy look on his face.

“Hey, are you looking for Jake?”

You nod, spurring him on.

“He’s a little further down the beach, with um.. those two girls,”

Your gut twinges again as you look to where Bob is facing, lo and behold Jake is stood pointing something out to two tall slim girls. You weren’t jealous per se, you had no real reason to be. He wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary, as annoying as it was, girls always seemed to flock to Jake. You weren’t jealous because Jake was the one to express his interest in you first, he knew what he wanted and it was you. Still your gut twinged. You looked to Bob, then stood up abruptly.

“Pen, do you mind looking after my stuff?” You turned to ask your aunt and she hummed absentmindedly, still entranced by her boyfriend. You took the hum as a yes and kicked your slides off ready to go find your boyfriend.

Bob took this as a sign to take off back to the group still playing football and watched your figure retreat to where Jake was standing with the two girls, smiling as they laughed at something he had said.

One of the girls smacked Jake’s chest lightly as she laughed far too hard for what Jake had said. This was when you began to feel slightly angry, you knew that type of laugh. You’d used it before. On Jake nonetheless. No man was ever that funny, especially Jake.

As you came into Jake’s view, his smile widened which made you falter slightly, in what was quite a stompy walk. Reminded of the fact that you were wearing his shirt and his favourite bikini you tried to style out your march into more of a cool girl saunter.

Jake lifted his sunglasses once you were stood in front of him and sucked in a breath as he took in your attire. He lifted his hand from his side and started to play with the hem of his shirt which hung from your frame.

“Wow..”

“Hey baby,” you smiled at him then turned to the two girls who appeared slightly confused by what was occurring in front of them.

“And you guys are…” okay maybe you were slightly snappy, but did these girls still have to hang around when they now clearly knew Jake was taken.

The brunette one of the two spoke up, “Jake, are you not gonna introduce us?”

Jake looked up and scoffed slightly at the girls audacity, he shared a look with you that had you holding in a giggle.

“…right, Brianna, Stace, this is my beautiful girlfriend.” At his statement you smiled up at him, bashful at his compliment and at the thought that you had previously had in which he completely ignored you in favour of his two new friends.

“Hi..” you smiled at the girls with more pep in your step.

The red head (Brianna?) then spoke up, “Oh.. this is your girlfriend?” With distaste on her tongue which made Jake seethe.

“What I just said.” He spoke shortly back to her.

Her friend clearly sensed the tension bubbling and tried to smoothen out the situation, “I think she just means we weren’t expecting to meet her,” she smiled apologetically at you.

You smiled back appreciatively and spoke up, “Well we should really be getting going, I have a game of football i need to see my boyfriend win, it was nice meeting you girls!”

Jake had already began to move away, dragging you along with him as you waved at the two girls when Brianna (?) spoke again,

“Wait Jake! Didn’t you want my number?”

You both turned back to see her friend look confusedly at her and Jake scoffed once again,

“Yeah, no thanks pal.”

You struggled to hold your giggle in again at Jake’s passive aggressive word choice and continued your walk back towards the rest of the pilots who were now taking a break from their game.

“God can you believe them?” Jake asked you exasperatedly, “you look so unbelievably hot right now by the way doll, is that my shirt?”

“They weren’t tooooo bad..” you giggled and nodded at Jake. He continued on,

“I mean they dragged me from the group asking where the closest place was to get food that wasn’t made behind a bar but then when I tried to point places out they just kept going on and on and on and on and-”

“Jake shut up would you?” You said as you finally reached the group sat outside the Hard Deck.

“Hey!” He said and smacked your ass lightly to emphasise his annoyance. You turned and stuck your tongue out at him as Rooster spoke up,

“Finally able to shake you two new best friends then ?”

Phoenix snorted and turned to you, “Babe you should have seen the way they were eyeing Jake up before they finally went in for the kill.” You giggled along next to her at her interesting choice of analysis for the two girls.

Jake had started his own conversation with Coyote and Bob when you finally turned back to look at him and finally realised you hadn’t got the chance to admire how handsome he looked right now. You suddenly couldn’t feel it in you to be angry at the girls and their failed attempts at flirting. The late afternoon sun was warm against your skin and made the remnants of sea water on Jake’s chest glimmer. His dark navy swim shorts hung dangerously low on his hips and his ray bans were sat just slightly too far down on his nose so he had to bring a hand up to push them back upwards, afterwards he raked said hand through his windswept hair and you embarrassingly felt you stomach flutter at the action.

You laced your fingers through his other hand which was still resting low on your hip and squeezed. He turned his head slightly indicating that you had his attention whilst he still managed to listen to Coyote’s ramblings. Standing on your tip toes you whispered into his ear,

“I’m going to go into the bathroom in the Hard Deck in a second and your going to follow in after me in about two minutes, okay?”

Jake looked down at you and smirked at your playful expression, he tipped his head up slightly in a showing of understanding and he dropped his hand from your hips to let you excuse yourself.

Jake watched your retreating form with his eyes trained on the sway of your hips and a smile plastered on his face. He pulled his phone from the pocked of his shorts and checked the time. 16:43. Two minutes and he could follow in after you.

Those last two minutes of Jake’s life seemed to be the longest he’d ever lived through.

He followed your previous path towards the bathroom at the back of the Hard Deck and knocked on the locked door. You open the door to a smiling Jake Seresin.

“Hi doll,” he smirks down at you. You pull him into the bathroom and lock the door behind him, wary of your surroundings.

He has one hand placed on the side of your face with the other groping your ass making you whine out at the contact. Jake leans down and kisses you slowly and sweetly, he goes to slip his tongue into your mouth but before he can you’re pulling away to shed yourself of his shirt and pull your hair up using the spare hair tie on your wrist.

Jake watches with his mouth hanging slightly open as you drop to your knees in front of him smiling sweetly.

“Not that I’m complaining sweetheart but what on earth did I do to deserve this ?”

Tugging at the drawstring holding his shorts up you stare up at him, “you defended my honour in front of those two wenches, oh valiant solider!”

Jake rolls his eyes at your dramatics, but he can see that you truly are grateful for his actions. The thing with you and Jake is that he always understands what you truly mean, even if you mask it behind layers of dry humour, built up for your protection.

You finally undo the knot holding Jake’s shorts so low on his waist (and make a mental note to tease him later on for his navy level drawstring knot) and look up to Jake for conformation.

“Please baby,” he almost whimpers down at you .

You smile at his whiny tone and pull his shorts down enough to release his cock and kitten lick against his leaking tip, making him shudder slightly in pleasure. You grasp him with you right hand and start slowly stroking, watching carefully at what movements make Jake react the most.

He begins to fiddle with the tie at the back of your neck which holds your bikini top together to try and distract him from letting out a groan too loud which could alert anyone outside of your whereabouts.

You lean down again and spit onto his tip, using you tongue to spread the wetness of your saliva and his precum along the length of his cock.

After spending your first night with Jake you realised he had enough of a reason to be so cocky. He was big. (not that you felt the need to tell him and boost his ego even further).

Sinking your mouth down onto him you breathed carefully through your nose and let him hit the back of your throat. Jake released a throaty groan in response to the action and moved his hand into your hair to pull at it lightly causing you to moan onto his shaft. The vibrations make Jake whine even louder into his fist. Spurred on by his noises you continue to move up and down on him sloppily, clenching your thighs at the sounds being pulled from his throat.

The final straw for Jake was when you looked up at him through you long wet lashes as you pulled off of him, with a long string of spit connecting your lips to the tip of his cock.

“Fuck baby, I’m so close.” Jake whimpered.

You take him back into you mouth and trace the vein on the underside of his cock with your tongue. You sloppily continue to suck as Jake’s whines reach a crescendo and he spills into your mouth with a deep grunt. His grip on your hair loosens and you pull your mouth away, careful to keep his cum inside of your mouth. Some slips out the sides of your lips as you swallow and you allow it to drip down in between the valley of your breasts for Jake to admire.

“You are too fucking good to me doll,” Jake speaks breathlessly, helping you up onto unsteady feet.

You giggle up at him, “You can repay the favour later cowboy don’t worry.”

He smirks down at you and rights his shorts swiftly. As he looks back up he uses his fingers to collect his seed that collected in between you breasts and pushes them into your mouth for you to suck clean. Once you finish he pulls you into a searing kiss and licks his tongue around your mouth, moaning at the taste of himself on your tongue.

You pull away, slightly light headed and turn to the mirror to right yourself. Jake stands behind you in the mirror and pulls his button down onto you, smiling at your reflection. You turn around and peck him quickly and reach for the door to let yourselves out.

Walking into the main area of the Hard Deck with Jake behind you, you notice your aunt looking at you with her signature smirk on her face and you blush under her gaze. She wonders when you and Jake will finally stop defiling her property.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿

a/n: i love these two, jake is much less suckier than he is in my first fic bc i think he is actually so boyfriend !!!!

hopefully you all enjoy this!!! and thank you so much for all the notes on my other two pieces !! i promise i will get to any requests as soon as :)

pls reblog and comment and tell me what you think <333

- honey :0

[lexa-griffins]

For Lexa's birthday, Clarke gives her an orgasm for every year she's been alive

It is tradition by now that Clarke will wake up Lexa with an orgasm on her birthday. After seven years of marriage and two babies together, Lexa can easily say it's one of her favorite traditions.

Lexa has the day off today. A midweek birthday always leaves room for little so she intends of celebrating it by just relaxing at home.

Or so she thought.

She's still deep in her slumber when the feeling of pleasure assaults her body. The unmistakable feeling of a toungue tracing the length of her opening, the electric feeling of a fingers who knows her so well circling her clit. She wakes up wet and dripping, her sleeping shorts half way across her legs along side her underwear and her wife’s messy blonde hair buried between her legs.

A particularly hard press of her thumb against her clit makes Lexa moan outloud.

"Shhh baby, the kids are still asleep." Lexa looks down to see Clarke lifting her head, chin already shining with Lexa's wetness.

Lexa hums happily at the sight, "hmm good morning love."

With ease, Clarke climbs over to Lexa, crashing their lips together, "Happy birthday, beautiful!"

Lexa kisses her back with a moan, tasting herself first thing in the morning, "Thank you, my love."

As Clarke kisses her way back to where she was before, Lexa arranges herself on the bed for more comfort, opening her legs fully for Clarke.

"Eager, are we?" Clarke asks, bitting Lexa's inner thigh.

"I'm allowed to be, it's my birthday." Lexa chuckles.

"The big thirty! How do you feel?" Clarke questions, her lips finding their way around Lexa's sensitive nub.

"Ol- ah!" Lexa tries before being stopped by a moan. "Old."

"You're not old hun." Clarke assures her, with one last suck on her clit, letting for of it with a pop that makes Lexa tremble and moan.

"Yes I - ah! - am!" Lexa continues just as Clarke buries her tongue inside of her. She won't last long now.

Clarke shakes her head but doesn't answer, too busy with the task at hand, a smirk playing on her lips when she can feel Lexa's wall clenching around her, seconds away from cumming.

Lexa falls against the mattress as her orgasm lets down finally, adoring the way Clarke makes sure to clean her with her tongue before kissing her way back to her lips.

"I love you so much, baby. Happy birthday! I can't wait to continue celebrating them with you until we're gray and old." Clarke whispers to her adoringly, making Lexa pull her down for a kiss.

It is mid kiss that she feels three fingers enter her without warning, making her moan against Clarke's lips, "Clarke!"

"I think you deserve an orgasm for every year you've lived. How about that baby?"

Lexa chuckles, "I doubt you can make it to thirty before the kids wake up and burts in here."

Clarke kisses her with a smirk, "hm, good thing I took the day off."

Lexa moans in response.

"Let's start we three now, we can work on the rest during the day."

True to her word, Clarke pumps her finger in and out until Lexa's ass is off the bed as she cums, Clarke's hands preventing her from squinting all over the bed.

She has barely recovered from her first two orgasm when Clarke's dick is gently massaging her from inside, Clarke strokes slow and long, knowing with how sensitive Lexa is, it'll be easier to bring her to her third orgasm.

Clarke is about to pull out as Lexa's reaches her climax when Lexa brings her back fully inside, her walls milking Clarke out of her own orgasm, filling Lexa up.

"Are you trying to go for a third baby, love?" Clarke asks with a kiss, still buried inside Lexa.

"Hmm, its my birthday, I get to pick my present."

"3 down, 27 to go."

"Hmm, I have filled day ahead"

"You think an old lady like you can handle it?"

[oedipusted]

Part 2 of blown cover story.

I wasn't sure how many people my sister had told. She said almost everyone, but that could be exaggeration. She told a few I'm sure, and those will tell a few, but at least my secret won't be known far and wide. However, more and more people when they encounter me ask about and comment or talk about my Mom. This was happening more and more. I desperately tried changing subject, but the persons talking to me immediately changed it back to my Mom. Me changing subject I guess made me appear to be guilty I guess. in hindsight.

Around this same time and after, rumors and gossip were multiplying and spreading like wildfire. Every day it seemed 4 or 5 new gossip stories and 5-10 or more new rumors about Mom and I dating/being involved as lovers popped up and started spreading. This went on daily for a few months. During this time, my aunt (who lives on the other side of my home state called me on the phone...the phone at Mom's house of course). My aunt (my Mom's sister) kept saying "I hear you have a new girlfriend. Tell me all about her" I kept saying "No I do not have a girlfriend". "No I truly do not." (Oh did I sound nervous/scared as I talked.). Mom and my Sister are within earshot. After several denials from me, my aunt said "I know you have aa new girlfriend you are super serious about.". "NO NO NO" said I. "My aunt said "Nonsense dear. I know for a fact you have a girlfriend. I am talking about your mother, er... your girlfriend... er your mother. Your mother/girlfriend, she is who I am talking about." I had to explain to my aunt all about it. Next day my aunt from Dad's side of family called, same thing. I had to explain.

Two nights later, my Mother and I are in the midst of a very passionate love making session at around 2:30 AM, in my Mother's bed (it is a midweek night). Suddenly the phone beside Mom'ss bed rings. We ignore it of course. A minute of two later it rings again, in the midst of a thrust stroke I absently mindedly pick up the phone and say breathlessly "Hello. This is Ted Jr. We were in bed". Uh-oh. It is my aunts. Major Uh-oh. They both start talking, and say "Imagine talking to you at 2:30 in the morning, in your Parent's house, and apparently in your Mother's bed to boot, haha. May we speak to her". Major Uh-oh. I say "Yes, here Mom" and quickly hand the phone to Mom, who speaks into it immediately... Major major Uh-oh!! Yes we gave ourselves away. This must have been popular, because a majority of over nights friends, acquaintances, strangers neighbors would call during night. If Mom answered they would want to talk to me, saying they know I am here. If I answered, common response was "Aha, I knew it. I KNEEEEW IT! May I speak to your mother". Oh yeah, we were pretty busted.

During this time, more and more rumors were formed about Mom and I. More and more gossip flew. Our small town and small and larger towns//cities in ssurrounding area seemed to have lots of people who knew. These rumors/gossip also caused others who were not sure it was true, to try to see us or catch us . Oh man oh man oh man. To me it seemed almost everyone knew. Apparently my sister told way more people than I first assumed. And those many people told many other people. If those people had not heard, now they had heard. If people already knew, hearing all the additional gossip and rumors simply confirmed that the gossip and rumors were ALL TRUE!! Part 3 (tonight later) will be about our cover completely being blown, more people finding out, Mom and I getting caught "in the act" a few times,and how that kead to the blog I have today.

[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. 

[isitgintimeyet]

Just a Friend

Hope you enjoy the next chapter of this story. Thanks to you all for reading this. You comments are lovely to read.

Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks for the beta

Previous

AO3

Chapter 5: From Facebook to Friends

When I was a little girl, Uncle Lamb would sometimes take me into university with him. I would creep into the lecture theatre and sit at the back watching him as he enthused about Phoenician trade routes, or long gone military strategies. I didn’t really understand what he was talking about, but I loved it anyway. The passion he had for his subject matter thrilled me.

And once the lecture was over, I would join him in his office and we would squeeze together in an old armchair, drinking hot, sweet tea while he tried to explain the principles of a three thousand year old civilisation in words a seven year old would understand.

The armchair is now in my office at the hospital. It looks more than a bit incongruous amongst the standard NHS furniture. The rich green velvet fabric has faded to a shabby eau de nil colour and years of shuffling bottoms have left a large depression in the seat cushion. But I won’t have it reupholstered. I love it as it is. It’s a great reminder of my wonderful uncle. I sit in it and somehow it comforts me, like a soothing hug.

**********************

I glance at the clock as I walk into my office, paper cup of hot, sweet tea in hand, and head straight for Lamb’s chair. Gratefully, I sink into its depths and take a tentative sip of the steaming liquid before closing my eyes for a moment. The surgery was long; much longer than anticipated—having taken all morning and most of the afternoon, in fact. It had also been far more complicated—my original plans for keyhole surgery had to be changed, but, eventually, we completed the operation successfully. I’m always proud of my theatre team, but never more so than in situations like this.

And now, after hours of concentration, I feel in need of some light relief. I can go home, have a wonderfully reviving shower and then what? I know that Dougal is taking Geillis out for a meal tonight, so she’s not available. Mary and Anna are both working nights this week, so no joy there. Other friends live too far away for an impromptu midweek activity.  I could go to the gym. I should go to the gym. Or… more likely, I’ll go home, have cheese on toast, a glass of wine and watch ‘The Devil Wears Prada’ for the fifteenth time instead.

I reach for my phone to check for messages.  A notification for a Facebook friend request appears on my screen. I very rarely get new friend requests—other than the odd random gentleman hoping, I presume, to make some sort of connection. I always delete immediately.

And, yes, the request is from a gentleman—one Jamie Fraser. The profile picture is definitely Samsonite Jamie, even wearing the Scotland rugby shirt I fingered whilst foraging through his suitcase. I click accept. Why not? I don’t think I have anything too embarrassing on my posts. In fact, I don’t use it very often at all.

Neither, it seems, does Mr. Fraser. His cover photo shows a very youthful bunch of Scottish rugby supporters and his recent timeline seems to comprise mostly of being tagged in photos by Laoghaire Mackenzie. Is it my imagination, or does he have a resigned look on his face on each of their ‘selfies’?

My tea is cool enough to drink now without scalding my tongue. I put my phone down and take a large gulp whilst considering tomorrow’s workload. My job is a series of highs and lows. Today, for example, started as routine, slumped to a worrying low, before peaking at a very relieved high. Tomorrow appears to be an easier day, certainly—a review of patients’ case notes in the morning followed by an outpatient clinic in the afternoon. All follow up patients, and all doing well as far as I know, so tomorrow is shaping up to be a very good day.

I open up my phone again. Facebook messenger is encouraging me to ‘say hi to your new Facebook friend.’  Without thinking, I send a little waving hand emoji to Samsonite Jamie.

I have no sooner put the phone down than it pings. Waving hand returned. I smile. What are we… thirteen years old? Next I’ll be asking him out for an Irn Bru and a bag of chips.

Ping again.  

You owe me…

Shit! The stain on his t-shirt, no doubt. I watch the dots on the screen. Perhaps he’s calculating the cost of a dry cleaner, or a new t-shirt.

You promised me an ice cream.

You up for buying one for me tonight?

I hesitate for a moment. I hope Jamie doesn’t think I’m after him or anything like that. I mean, he’s not really my type. As I’ve said before, I’ve always been attracted to academic, cerebral kind of men like Uncle Lamb, rather than Viking marauders.

And I’ve never subscribed to the idea that men and women can’t be friends. One of my closest friends at university was a man—Joe Abernathy.  If it wasn't for the fact that he is currently three thousand miles away, working in Boston, I would be arranging platonic ice cream outings with him.

So, deciding I have nothing to lose, I type my response.

If you can get to the kiosk by 6:30, it should still be open

A brief pause, then the response.

Great. See you there?

****************

Even at a distance, I recognise him sitting at a table next to the kiosk. No white t-shirt today, it looks like some sort of check lumberjack shirt. I breathe a sigh of relief. Not what I would call ‘first date’ clothing. Which is handy, seeing as I’m wearing ripped jeans and an oversized Aran jumper. I’m clean, presentable and fresh-smelling but definitely not dressed to impress.

He stands up when he sees me and greets me formally with a handshake. His hands are warm and dry—no nervous, sweaty palms here, which is another good sign. His shirt is blue, red and cream flannel and actually quite hideous.

“I hope this ice cream lives up tae ma expectations,” he says with the merest hint of challenge.

I crane my neck and look him straight in the eye. “No doubt at all. Cherry bakewell, is it? Double cone?”

“Aye. With a flake too. Compensation, ye ken.”

He stands aside to allow me to make the purchases. Before accepting the cone, he picks up half a dozen or so paper napkins and stuffs them in the pocket of his jeans.

“I’m prepared fer ye now. Do yer worst, Ms Beauchamp.”

I ignore his clear inference and follow him to a nearby bench.

“I can manage to eat and walk at the same time, you know,” I say in mock indignation.

“Hm,” he replies. “All the evidence sae far suggests the contrary. I need proof afore I believe it.”

There’s a moment of silence as we both focus on our ice creams. I lick neatly all the way around, trying to prevent any rogue drips trickling down the cone. Jamie pulls the flake from his cone and consumes it in two mouthfuls. He looks at me and laughs.

“Caught me. I’m a bit of a bugger fer chocolate,” he mumbles before swallowing.

“Right,” he continues, much more clearly now. “I suggest we get all the boring stuff out of the way. Ye ken, name, age, family, job, blah, blah blah. I’ll go first, if ye like.”

I nod my agreement.

“Sae, I’m James or Jamie Fraser. I’m thirty years old. Since our last conversation I am most definitely single. I live in Glasgow, obviously, but grew up on a farm near Inverness. My parents still run the farm. I have one sister, Jenny, who’s married tae Ian, my childhood friend. I have one nephew—a grand little lad known as Wee Jamie and a wee baby niece, Maggie . And I dinna think it’ll be long afore they’re joined by others. They all live here in Glasgow. My job, weel, I have a business—FraserFood—recipe boxes delivered tae yer door.”

“Oh, yes, I’ve heard of that. ‘From farm to fork.” That’s you, is it?”

He smiles proudly. “Aye, it’s me and ma family. Looks like ma marketing manager is doing a fine job, then.”

“Oh, forgot tae say, after the blah blah, ye have tae tell one confession. Only a wee one, mind.” He takes a large mouthful of his ice cream.

I purse my lips. “Really, and what if I’ve nothing to confess?”

Jamie snorts with laughter and does a funny sort of blink, screwing up his face and closing both eyes. Is he trying to wink? If so, he’s failing miserably. I try to look angelic and sin free. Judging by the look of scepticism on his face, It doesn’t seem to be working.

“Sae, my confession is, dah-dah-daaaah,” he does a fake fanfare, trying to build suspense. “I wanted tae be yer friend on Facebook because I wanted tae see if there were any photos of ye in Barcelona, with all yer...er… accessories.”

I feel myself redden. I’ve just remembered catching Geillis on Facebook the other day at work and I’m pretty sure I know what’s coming next.

“Verra interesting… in particular, the one with ye and six penis shot glasses. How d’ye manage tae get two of them in yer mouth at the same time?”

I inwardly curse Geillis and her desire to live her life through social media.

“Excuse me,” I reply somewhat primly. “I don’t think we’re at the Q and A stage yet.”

“So,” I continue in a lighter tone. “Me. Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp. I’m thirty two and I’m a paediatric  orthopaedic surgeon, here at the children’s hospital. I love my job so much, I can’t begin to tell you. As of two weeks ago, I am thankfully single. I was born in Oxford and moved up here when I was twelve, when my Uncle Lamb became a professor at the university. He brought me up, you know. Raised me when my parents died in a car accident... I… er...I was four at the time.”

I can feel Jamie looking at me, but I can’t raise my eyes. Telling people about my parents never gets any easier, no matter how many times I say those words. I concentrate on picking bits of wafer off my cone and throwing them to the ducks loitering nearby, waiting for some sort of treat.

“So it always was just my uncle and me.” I carry on talking. “Then he died… seven...seven years ago…” I can hear my voice start to crack as I fight back tears. A hand creeps into my vision and I gratefully accept the proffered paper napkin and wipe my face.

“Och, lass.” He says softly.

I clear my throat. “I'm sorry. We were having a nice conversation and then there I go, getting all teary. It’s just, well, we were a team, Uncle Lamb and I… the two musketeers. He was my hero.”

Blowing my nose in a most unladylike way, I toss the napkin into the neighbouring bin.

“And that’s pretty much me. As for a confession, well… I suppose it’s kind of one.”

He raises one eyebrow quizzically, making a better job of that than the whole winking lark, I think.

"Ok, well,  when I had your case, I tried to ring before I emailed you. I called the number in your case… twice. A woman answered and told me I had the wrong number—"

"Laoghaire."

"I know that now. But she obviously knew how to get onto your phone."

"Why did ye no' tell me?" He smiles as he says this. It's not a reprimand.

"I would have but you seemed to be coming to a conclusion anyway. No need to add more fuel to the fire."

"Happen ye're right."

He notices me shivering and gets to his feet. “Aye, there’s a bit of a chill. Fancy a wee walk tae warm up and we can carry on wi’ round two. It’s a quick fire round.”

I stand up and we move away from the pond. The ducks have already lost interest in us since they realise that we’ve nothing more to offer them. It’s pretty quiet in the park now, the cooler evening air seems to have kept people at home. The gravel crunching loudly under the soles of our shoes, I glance down and notice Jamie’s doing a sort of awkward stuttering movement with his feet. He’s clearly trying to match his stride pattern to mine. Which isn’t easy when his must be a good few inches longer than mine. Nice, considerate gesture, though.

“Sae, quick fire questions and answers. Ye can go first,” he says generously.

It only takes me a moment to think of a question that I have been wondering about ever since I explored the contents of his suitcase.

“What were you doing in Barcelona? I mean the contents of your case weren’t really fun-weekend-away stuff.”

“Nah, ye’re right. It wasna a holiday—flying visit only. I was there on business—talking tae a food wholesale company. Serrano ham, chorizo, saffron, that kind of thing,” he explains, a look of excitement on his face. “We’re expanding our range, starting with Spanish influenced recipes. A full three courses ready tae prepare, plus wine delivered straight tae yer door. Dinner party FraserFood style.”

He can’t stop smiling as he talks about these plans. And his hands move animatedly as he continues to elaborate on his new venture. His business is obviously his passion. Maybe that’s why he hasn’t got the desire for a relationship with a girlfriend—FraserFood seems to be his one love. No girl could compete.

He stops talking for a moment. “And here I am, boring ye.”

I shake my head. “Not at all, it’s really interesting.” I don’t have to lie. It’s the truth. My mouth is watering at his description of albondigas and flavoursome chicken and chorizo with cannellini beans. I’m ready to sign up for this delivery service any time.

“Sae, ma turn tae ask a question. Tell me, d’ye like this shirt?”

I try to stifle a laugh. The question is so unexpected and the shirt so awful. Trying to be diplomatic, I search for the right words, evading the actual question. “I’ve only seen you in white tops before, no colours.”

He sighs. “Ye’ve only seen me twice afore... anyway I dinna think ye need tae say any more. I ken ye’re being polite, but ye’re a terrible liar. I can tell by yer face ye dinna like this shirt. Laoghaire hated it, always made me change it. I did wonder if that was jes’ her being difficult. But apparently no’.”

“Sorry, I didn’t want to be rude.”

“Ye dinna need tae apologise, Claire. Being honest is a good thing, is it no’? And friends should always tell each other the truth. And that’s what I think we’re going tae be, Claire— friends. D’ye no’ agree?”

I crane my neck  and look Jamie straight in the eye. “Yes, I do… friends.”

[dailyaudiobible]

12/12/2020 DAB Transcript

Amos 7:1-9:15, Revelation 3:7-22, Psalms 131:1-3, Proverbs 29:23

Today is December 12th welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I'm Brian it is great to be here with you today as we bring to a conclusion another week. And we begin our year, and we have 52 of these. And, so, it feels like we have a lot of space and we can spend these weeks but we’re down to two more full weeks left in this year and then some change a few more days after that. So, we don't have much more of this year to spend. Let's spend it well. And one way that we spend it well is to keep the rhythm of the Scriptures in our lives each and every day. So, we’ve been reading from the English Standard Version this week, which is what we'll do today. Amos chapters, 7, 8, ad 9.

Prayer:

Father, we thank You for Your word. And another week, another week has gone by and all of the weeks that we get to spend together another one has passed us, and we are grateful. We are thankful because we are here, and we are able to turn our hearts and worship toward You. You have sustained us. We are here and we are grateful for Your gracious kindness, Your patience in our lives. And, so, as we release this week, prepare to move into the new one, come Holy Spirit. We need You now more than ever. We need Your clarity. We need it to be Your words coming from our mouths. And the only way that’s gonna happen is if Your word is within our lives and our hearts. If the convictions of our lives aren't being shifted and conformed to Your will and Your ways, then nothing we say is gonna be conformed to Your will and Your ways, either. Come, Holy Spirit. We surrender ourselves to You. We pray this in the name of Jesus. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com is home base, and that is…that’s where you find out what's happening around here in the Global Campfire community.

And its Christmas time. So, the Christmas things that we normally talk about are what's going on around here, inviting everyone to call in their holiday greetings for our annual Christmas party, our annual, kind of, virtual get together which we’re looking forward to. So, you can do that now. You can use the hotline that you use to call in prayer…prayer requests and encouragements. And you can use the same phone numbers as well. So, the…a couple rules. One basic rule is, you know, not…normally we don't have multiple kind of serial calls. This is one of the times where you can call in and hang up and call back because you don’t want to combine a holiday greeting and a prayer request or encouragement in the same call. Call in your holiday greeting and let it be that and then if you have a prayer request or anything else to share call that in separate so that we can keep everything straight and organized. But you can do that now and we’ll continue to do this for a couple more days and then we’ll shut it down before midweek next week. So, don't procrastinate if he can help it. Go ahead and call in now if you want to.

The other thing is the…the Daily Audio Bible Shop is open and there are…there are some really unique gift ideas in there. The God of your story, we’ve talked about that. The Family Christmas project, we’ve talked about that. The Daily Audio Bible Journal and all of the Black Wing pencil resources that I use to Journal with are in there. The entire Global Campfire line is in there. The things that have not sold out yet are still in there, and there's plenty left. So, check that out. If you spend $40 or more in the Daily Audio Bible Shop, we will be sure to include the Daily Audio Bible ornament for 2020 along with your order. So, thank you. Thank you for considering the Daily Audio Bible shop. There’s stuff in here that you would…that you would want. Like, there are things in there that you would want and there are things to give away. So, check it out.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, you can do that at dailyaudiobible.com as well. There is a link on the homepage, and I thank you, especially this time of year. Thank you, thank you, thank you for your partnership. If you’re using the Daily Audio Bible app you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner, or the mailing address is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And, as always, if you have a prayer request or encouragement, or holiday greeting you can hit the Hotline button in the app, which is the little red button up at the top or you can dial 877-942-4253.

And that's it for today, I’m Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Hey, I’m Ben in Georgia. I’ve been up Daily Audio Bible listener for couple years now and I wanted to reach out and ask for prayer for my wife. She’s just been having a really tough time at her job lately and it’s really discouraging for. I really don’t help. I’m…I’m trying to comfort her and help her look for other jobs but it’s just tough. If you would, please pray that either this job will get better or she would find a better job sometime soon. And also, her knees have just been really troubling her. She’s had surgeries in the past and some of those issues are coming back and causing her pain. So, she has some appointments set up and I’m praying that she gets good results from that but please just pray for healing for her. Thank you so much for all the encouragement that…that you offer every day and for this wonderful community that…that I see going on. Thank you so much.

Good morning Daily Audio Bible, Brian in the Hardin family. First of all, I want to say thank you for such wonderful and great broadcast. My name is David Benedict. I want to say thank you and continue to keep us in your prayer. The Benedict family, the Peocree family, __ Tocson family, and the Powell family. It has been a remarkable year for us due to the loss of our family members and the coronavirus. I just want to thank God that He still has us…us in His hands, in His care, in His love, in His bosom. Continue on praying for us you all. Thank you very much.

Hey, Brian I’m blind and I super appreciate like your podcast. And I wonder if you thought that it would reach people that couldn’t read…read the Bible every day. But, anyway, I just want to let you know that I super appreciate it and…and I mean I can’t read a Bible. I don’t know where else I would find someone who would read me the Bible every morning and I need that. So, much thanks. Your podcast is awesome. Thank you. Bye.

Hey DAB this is White As Snow from Tennessee and I was just calling to thank Christy from Ohio who called in and prayed for truck drivers. And you were talking about driving through a storm in Ohio last week. And I was in that snowstorm driving up through Cleveland towards Buffalo New York and I counted 19 cars and 4 trucks that had run off the road. I’m thankful I made it through okay. But I just wanted to thank you for praying for me and the other truckers out there and everyone in the DAB who prays for us drivers. It’s just a great comfort knowing that you’re thinking about us. And Christy I just want to let you know am praying for you and your family as you remember the loss of your sister who died last year and just praying for God’s peace and continued healing. And also, for your dad whose friend has cancer and the coworker whose dad has died and just praying that your dad will be able to just comfort both of them and just be a good friend for…for them. And thanks so much for calling.

[mycryptosuite]

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[lockdownuk]

Lockdown Diary Part 9

A personal account during the lockdown in the UK due to the Covid-19 outbreak.

23/03/2020 8:30pm Boris Johnson, UK Prime Minister, gives a live address to the nation to, effectively, put the country on lockdown to stem the spread of the deadly coronavirus strain, Covid-19.

Many of us have been self-isolating for days but this latest development within the UK in reaction to the pandemic feels very serious and very scary. I decided to keep a simple diary and where better but online.

Day 241: Shit day at work. To cut a long story short, I could complete a task Sueanne gave to me and then I got it in the ear, including a snotty email ay 5:40pm. Pissed off.

Day 242: Had a meeting with Sueanne (our weekly 1-2-1 actually) and she was alright. I feel much better tonight. Last night I didn’t even have an appetitie - unheard of! Going to make up for that tonight, pie and loads of veg! A much better day. Ridiculously, I believe yesterday was all my own fault - I take work for granted sometimes and I let myself down by ignoring the urgency of a task just because it was Sueanne asking me to do it and she was a peer. She is now my boss, and I should respect that.

Day 243: So-so day at work. It’s strange how used to work I am after over six months on furlough. It’s been less than two months back but all the highs and lows amd frustrations are commonplace. Most importantly, it being Thursday, I cannot wait for tomorrow eveninga dn to kick back, drink and smoke. Spoke to dad this morning, he’s same as...that’s always good to know. Sugar levels have been a fucking roller coaster today, and it has really fucked me off! No salad at lunch due to them being so fucking high when I got back from my walk. It ended up being my tea. Sarted watching The Undoing...it’s OK. 

Day 244: Glad it is Friday. Just cooking a (very hot) chicken madras, cracked open my first beer. Gonna eat, drink, smoke and watch a good film.

Day 245: Gold was the film I watched last night, with Matthew McConaughey and it was a good choice. I then watch a Kevin Hart stand up show on Netflix...very Eddie Murphy, very funny. I did a 12 km walk today...fucking felt it in my legs. Walked the footpath from Stoke Doyle road to Benefield road for the first time. I liked it and it comes out between Lytham Park and Wakerley Close....I posted on FB about the fact that when I move to Oundle, Clifton Drive was the last street heading out of town. Saw Becks on the walk down Benefield road, She mentioned she’s tired of lockdown. I replied that I’m tired of the virus!

Day 246: Up at 1pm, nice long walk, ordered new slippers and waterproof jacket (my Craghopper is bust again).

Day 247: I screwed up at work today, went for a (ridiculously) late lunch right when I was meant to be at an online meeting that Sueanne had reminded me about in the morning. There’s mitigation but, when push comes to shove, I fucked up and now Sueanne’s on the warpath - one more slip up and it’ll be an offical disciplinary matter. 

Day 248: Suzanne wants me to troubleshoot a ticket she has in her queue, some database request for a Cork guy. It’s a test and it’s fucking me off.

I did testing for a network change tonight...8 till 11:15pm.

Elliot and Aaron cleaned the windows today. It was nice to see them.

Rita sent a couple of emails recently. Dad’s ear is all clear but Paul has got testicular cancer.

Day 249: New waterproof jacket arrived today. It’s very nice, bargain for £25 odd. Also picked up slippers from M&S food hall in Corby so, while over their, did a shop at Tesco’s...£109 mainly booze.

By the time I was back, I ended up doing my evening walk at 9.30pm!

Day 250: Leigh from Oundle Chronicle has got back to me. She (he?) has selected the photos that are going to be in the article and wants me to write a sentence on each - where they were taken and what inspited me to do so. Whether that means the stuff I wrote before is not going to be used, or not, I dunno! New slippers are OK and the new jacket is still impressing me.

Day 251: Typing on Day 252. Usual Friday, beers, meatballs, pizza, long chat with Fog. I should mention that, as we approach the end of Lockdown2 in England, Boris and his government have laid out a three tier structure for how the second lockdown will be eased. It’s caused confusion and consternation across the board. None of it affects me, still isolating like I was on day 1. Day 252: Totally forgot about my diary entry yesterday! Up at 1pm, nice long walk, nipped rong Elliots to pay for my windows, had a chat with him, Artron and Camilla - it’s so nice to socialise! Gonna make fish pie and supp a few ales. Day 253: The weekend is over way too quickly. It’s 7.30pm on Sunday as I type and I wish it wasn’t. I wish it was 7.30pm on Friday. Day 254: In a meeting, a working Zoom, with Andy Ashler in the US re: qfiniti, which Sueanne pissed me off about earlier in te day (RCI diary updated), but the meeting went well. I am desparately trying to buy an iPad on Black Monday. As usual with tech, I cannot make my mind up which to buy! Day 255: I haven’t bought an iPad....I’ll wait for the 10.2″ iPad to come down in price. I had more involvement with Andy Ashler and in the US with the Qfiniti project at work. I’m really enjoying it, it’s very technical...although I didn’t finish ‘til 6pm because of it. The Oundle Chronicle is out and an article about me and my pics is on the back page. Leigh, the editor, sent it to me electronically. It’s good. I am chuffed!  Day 256: I booked some holidays today, making sure that I didn’t include any days off in the week December 14-18 (SB’s off). So, this coming Friday (4th Dec), Next Weds-Fri and Monday 21st. I know I have only been back from Furlough a couple of months but I am more than ready for some kick-back time.  1-2-1 with SB today, it was a relaxed affair, most espcially becaus eof my success thus far with the Qfiniti project - that being said, I got pretty much nowhere with it today.  Ordered a couple of long sleeved Ts and a fleeced hoody from a shop called Doubletwo today, well cheap in the sale. I saw half a dozen joggers on the Milton Road blind bend tonight, oblivious to any other potential path user. I posted about it (in my own, sarcastic way) on the Oundle Chatter FB group. It was met how I’d expected plus some direct digs so I deleted it. Cowardly but, I figure, I don’t get my point across, the vast majority of joggers really don’t think they are doing anything wrong by bulldozing there way around town and, lastly, I couldn’t be bothered with the flak, and its tennis like back-and-forth!

Day 257: Got tomorrow off so worked late tying up loose ends, including the qfiniti project - fucking nuts really, making sure no one asks any questions of SB or the team, in terms of my work load, for just one day off! Still, just had tea, cracked open a beer and am watching Shaun of the Dead. Nice.

Day 258: The main thing I did today is walk. It was about 12km but felt much longer ‘cos it was wintry, pissing down, windy and slippery as fuck. And I really enjoyed it! Badge messaged me today to ask how I am and, in replying, I mentioned that I think I am becoming addicted to walking...it wasn’t a throwaway comment. Just cooked up a chilli (which I think I have ruined with a Knorr beef stock pot), and will tuck in with beers, smokes and telly. While it’s been a day off, this Friday evening will be as all others are at the moment, late, drunken and solitary fun - no doubt.

Day 259: Typing on day 260. That chilli last night was actually OK. Plus I ‘invented’ a meatball wrap - moving on from the TikTok ham and cheese wrap you fold into the toaster, I tried the same with meatballs but no fucking way could I fold it into the toaster slot (pissed up kitchen shenanigans), so I wrapped it in tin foil and heated it in the oven, Fucking delicious. I watched Shaun of the Dead. I think it’s the first time since its release and I couldn’t help thinking “zombies just aren’t like that [in real life]” Wtf?

Day 260: I was quite sensible (for a Saturday) last night, in bed by 2am, up at my alarm this morning, 10:30am. Nice long walk, taking in a new path up by Biggin Grange and took plenty of pics that turned out really good. Btw, posh lost yesterday at Portsmouth (with 2000 fans there) and they lost midweek and last weekend in the FA Cup to Chorley, at home. 

Day 261: It’s freezing today...actually 0 degrees. This house is so fucking cold, even with the heating on.

Day 262: Typing on day 263. Last day of work for 5 days. Beers are in order. And a sausage casserole. Day 263: I completely forgot to do a diary entry yesterday....concentrating on starting my work break off on the right foot, which I did. As a result, I didn’t get up until 1pm. So, to stop that sort of day wasting, no beers tonight. Just got back from a shop (£90 in Tesco’s), trying to sort out Romiley’s Christmas present, then something to eat (more sausage casserole) and a early, sober night.

Day 264: So, after abstinence last night, I was up before 11am and did a walk that included the track from Benefield Road to Monson Way past Park Wood. It was fucking hard work due to mud. I have lost coumd the amount of times I nearly slipped right over. Throw into that a hypo, the 12-13km walk was tough. Sorted out Romiley’s present (guitar stand, music stand and guitar exercises book). Took soime nice photos today as well which I’ve prepared and shared. No booze today/tonight either. Some break, a younger me would say!

Day 265: Friday, and I am typing with a beer, balti on the hob and I am just gonna choose a film and roll a single skinner. I am knackered. Up at 10am, cleaned the hall and stairs after a 10km walk. Also, I spoke with dad who is, as always, fine.

Time to make up for the last two sober nights.

Day 266: I am typing this on day 267. So drunk last night I left nearll a full can of beer and went to bed in my jogging bottoms and t-shirt. I have had a day off from any exercise at all which felt very odd. A few beers and watched Snatch. Day 267: While I was nowhere near drunk last night, due to sleeping in late (2pm) I was up ‘til 3am watching TikTok so today I struggled out of bed at just before 1pm. Watch the start of the season’s final GP (Verstappen won from pole and it was boring af), back on the exercising including a 9km walk. Back to work tomorrow which I feel totally conflicted about! Posh won yesterday at home to Rochdale (with the allowed 2000 fans) 4-1 including a 17 minute first half hatrick from Jonson Clarke-Harris.

Day 268: Back to work - Sueanne’s off and it’s the first day I’ve been at work with Jon in charge which involves a daily ‘SUMO’ (whatever that acronym stands for?) at 9.30am every day. I am still involved with te qfiniti upgrade project which seems to have taken a step backwards in the 3 days I had off, so I was working until gone 9.30pm! I have decided to do a quiz, hopefully for Christmas, whereby I don’t want the actual answers (to 25 particular questions, all with a common theme in the answer), merely an omitted question!  

Day 269: Stand Up Meeting Online. SUMO. Ian Bird told me. I might struggle with double Y for my quiz. Work was OK, more Qfiniti stuff. Posh drew away to MK 1-1. Posh were 0-1 up but Lincs lost at home. I can’t undertsand why that pleases me so....oh, yeah I can Steve Dee.

Day 270: Struggling to order Dad and Rita booze for Christmas without it being a Morrison’s delivery that I can do through Amazon Prime. That would be OK but it’s just a bit clinical! Meanwhile, now I am paying for Prime, and they are showing some Premiership games (for example, tonight I watched Liverpool v. Spurs (2-1), I really have to contact Sky - I am paying £71pm atm! Sam posted pic of her Christmas tree but mentioned how she’s finding it hard to get in the spirit - Paul has testicular cancer and the outlook is bleak - fuck know’s what she’s going through with all that, trying to shield Romiley from the worst without lying!

[lonelypond]

Moonlight Becomes You: Apocalypse Midnight Dance Party, Ch. 4: Dropping In For Brunch

Love Live, NozoEli, NicoMaki, KanaMari, 3.2K, 4/?

Summary: Maki's in town, Eli's still out of it, Mari's not everybody's favorite person, and You and Kanan make time for a chat. Plus, Nico and Nozomi both have a severe case of Ayase on the mind.

Dropping In For Brunch

Maki Nishikino marched up to the desk. She knew her direct off the Paris runway Loewe fringed t-shirt, jeans and bucket hat screamed first class, private penthouse suite, don’t even blink when this woman is speaking to you to anyone who made a study of style and today, today, she was going to use that. The staffer at the desk looked up, adjusted her posture, lowered her eyes briefly and then Maki spoke, hand solidly connecting with the wood of the counter, “Where is Nico Yazawa? She’s expecting me.”

There was a giggle behind her, “Oh, Maki, don’t scare my employees Unless you’re actually going to accept one of my job offers.”

Maki turned, a perfunctory nod to the desk clerk. Mari Ohara stood there, slouching, amused, in a three piece white suit, long jacket, with bright black and yellow smudges scattered. Maki recognized Akiko Aoki. Not her style at all. Too flashy.

Mari winked, “Can I interest you in a suite? Or running a nightclub.”

Getting drawn into a conversation with Mari was stepping into a mire. Simple demands were best. “You can take me to Nico.”

Mari raised an eyebrow, “Oh, you’re very focused.”

Maki shrugged.

Mari sighed, clicking her tongue,“Ki Ki…one after another and we all have to cope. Your friend doesn’t understand trust.”

“I’m sure Nico is doing what she thinks is best.”

Mari turned and tossed her hand up in a gesture that brought Maki back to the Italian clubs she’d toured last year. So many cultural cues mishmashed so ruthlessly in one blonde bulldozer. Maki was too jetlagged to snap any patter or be polite so she just pulled her sling bag strap tighter and followed Mari.

###

Nozomi missed home, the way the room smelled, how the fabric of the drapes fluttered gently, but mostly she missed the comforting security as the atmosphere opened up and enveloped her. But here she was, again, somewhere else, with her oldest Tarot deck, at a new coffee shop with a different view, one of people rushing to jobs, and auditions, and brunch meetings. Was Eli one of them? Or had Eli stopped by for a taste of her past and be disappointed not to find Nozomi around...no texts since midweek, since that exchange that ended so flatly. Was Eli all right?

Nozomi sighed. Hanamaru would laugh at her and probably point out with a smirk that no matter where Nozomi took her cards, she also took her heart. Closing her eyes to let her mind open into a memory, Nozomi pictured Eli, sitting across from her, bright eyes morning dark with worry, lips a nervous line. Breathing in three times, Nozomi dealt out three cards. That was the simplest spread and one that seemed to suit Eli. Page of Pentacles...very solid, charismatic, not that Nozomi needed a reminder of Eli’s charms, what it meant would depend on what next...but its position in the past indicated that Eli might be living with the consequences of her own choices. Next card, reverse Page of Swords...Nozomi tensed...danger, confusion, difficulty communicating, powers out of your control threatening. Nozomi hurriedly flipped the third card, another pentacle, another reversal...another concerning clue...whatever was cutting into Eli, she would need patience to resolve it and to let go of the thought that there might be an ideal solution. Would Eli listen to advice? Last time....when Nozomi had offered some, Eli had abruptly ended their text chat. But Nozomi couldn’t stop remembering the last time she’d seen Eli, the eager gleam in those bright eyes when she’d announced it was ‘time for a fresh start’, the firmness of her handshake. Surely someone as careful, as grounded as Eli seemed would be relieved to be advised patience? Nozomi picked up her phone, leaving the cards out on the table, pentacles and flipped sharps staring at her as she thought back to the Five Of Pentacles she’d drawn for Eli the last time. Reach out a hand. She swept to Eli’s contact info. Maybe just a hello? To remind Eli she wasn’t alone.

###

After Eli had been distracted by the huge raw steak Mari had acquired, Nico had let Kanan talk her into sitting down for a bagel and fresh fruit and a HUGE sweet caramelly bucket sized latte shipped in from somewhere. Nico didn’t ask how or why, she just chugged the caffeine and sugar boost as she shifted in a chair, still trying to stretch out the kinks in her legs from sleeping curled up in front of the door to Eli’s room. Kanan had attempted some conversation but Nico just let the chat die, as she wondered what to do with Eli if she didn’t change back...that was too complicated, so Nico shook herself and decided fresh mango slices would be a nice bagel follow up.

“Nico?” Maki’s voice, very nervous, very tight, and as Nico glanced up from the fruit bowl, Maki started to step into the breakfast nook, then Mari, blonde and brusque and way too touchy, like all those women in the photos, took Maki’s arm and swept her into a seat. The fringe on Maki’s branded, Luxury™️ t-shirt swayed and Nico caught a glimpse of abs as toned as the arms Maki’s usual muscle tees had given her ample opportunity to view. Hadn’t Maki just flown over night? How did she look so fresh, with a hat that would look stupid on anyone else tilted at a cute and perfect angle, frowning, but her amethyst eyes still luminous...and here Nico was, hadn’t even brushed her hair, same clothes she wore last night, which Maki was taking too close a look at.

Maki shrugged off Mari, scowling over her shoulder, “Don’t touch me.”

Nico nodded in agreement, not that she needed an excuse to frown at Ms. Mari Ohara, but she added touchy around hot redheads to her growing list.

Nico finished biting into the mango slice, “You look good. How do you do that after flying all night? Nico wants to know your secrets.”

Maki’s eyes met Nico’s and then she ducked her head, flushing, “Are you all right? You look terrible.”

Confirmation Nico didn’t need, but Nico had other charms. “Nico was a hero and a human obstacle in front of Eli’s door last night.”

Mari stomped, tossing her hair back. “Hero? Che palle! She insisted on having le mani in pasta when we could have had everything under control. For one so tiny…”

“Basta, Mari.” Kanan stood, wrapping Mari up in a hug from behind that pulled her away from the table, “Let’s check on our other guest.”

Nico started a bit guiltily at that from her latte sipping, staring at Maki daydream, but Maki smiled and Nico couldn’t hear anything from the room Eli was in so maybe, just maybe, this was an actual minute she and Maki could have crisis free.

###

Nico’s voice? Eli was curled up into a tight ball on something softer than her futon mattress. Shaking, she opened an eye. Completely strange room, large brush paintings of sea scenes on the wall, a huge window leading out to a balcony with a view of the ocean. Still in Santa Monica? Eli sat up, every muscle sore, her head pounding. Naked. She grabbed a sheet and wrapped it around herself. What had happened? It was well into the day. The sun was too bright for early morning. Surely she’d heard Nico. Why was Nico here? Frowning, squinching her eyes to force memories through the painful wall of her headache, Eli searched for her last awareness. She’d been standing in front of the window in the rehearsal space, watching the sun dip closer to the rolling waves. She was itchy again, prickles pushing against her skin, distracted, two straight days of rehearsal had worn her through to weary and although Kanan still had a few things to work her through, Eli had enjoyed the challenge. It had been a rare moment of solitude, sipping tea, eating a Pryaniki from the stash she’d brought to treat herself. She’d loved the honey swirled through it...the honey had a different, sweeter tang mixed in with the Russian spices...Eli remembered thinking of her grandmother’s kitchen, then there were footsteps coming down the hall, and with a fast turn…snarling, a raw throat, the pressure headache where her brain tried to come out her forehead...Eli shook herself as a mood closed in, dangerous, blinking her eyes as she forced herself to stay in the brightness.

Eli tried out a sound, “Hello?” and her voice was a bare shadow of full volume, a scratchy mumble. A puff of s breeze was blowing curtains around and everything seemed very quiet, the roll of the ocean dominating the soundscape. What day was it? Eli didn’t see a clock or her phone.

She was going to have to get up to learn anything. Shakily, swinging her legs to the hardwood floor, sheet gathered around herself, she shuffled past to the door, cracking it open. Definitely Nico’s voice. And Maki?

Eli managed to make it through the office section and then Nico spotted her, jumping up to run and grab her in a hug that nearly knocked Eli back to horizontal, “You’re all right!”

Eli shook her head, trying not to tear up at Nico’s affection and familiar confidence. It was hard not to think Nico was here, everything would be all right, but as she glanced up to see Maki watching both of them out of the corner of her eye, one hand turning a coffee cup, the other arm crossed over her chest. Eli took an unconscious sniff of the room’s atmosphere and immediately realized Maki’s aloofness was some concern but mostly...resentment, probably at Eli interrupting their conversation. Eli couldn’t blame her, but she felt her own frustrations rise. Nico was there for her. Maki hadn’t woken up in someone else’s...Eli glanced around, taking in the art, the Turkish rugs, the fresh flowers perfuming the natural salt of the sea air, the elegance, the lived in comfort of casual affluence...someone else’s home.

“I’m a little shaky.” Eli raised her arms, bringing Nico’s attention to the blue and tan quilt patched blanket she swaddled in, “And underdressed.”

“You need to wash your face.” Maki stated sharply, swiping at the corner of her own mouth with a clenched hand.

“Oh yeah,” Nico somehow managed to make this sound like Eli had just woken up from a post pancake brunch nap, “Kanan’s wife got you a huge steak.”

Eli reddened, not wanting the quick skim of her memory to happen. Could she recall anything from last night, pull any images before waking up into daylight? Were the barriers natural or learned? Her grandmother had continually encouraged her to lock out any thoughts or urges that might originate in the non human part of her and Eli had become an expert at denying them any power over her waking awareness. She wavered, but Nico was still there.

“I’m so tired, Nico.” Yep. Crying. Eli saw Nico glance to Maki, and the redhead’s glower softened infinitesimally.

Nico was a cheerful blur of coping. “Well, Nico will tuck you back into bed, find your phone and shoes…”

Maki cleared her throat, “Maybe if Eli’s going to sleep…” she hesitated as Nico’s eyes narrowed suspiciously and the rest of her words came out in a rush, “we could get coffee or smoothies and sit in a cabana while Eli rests.” Maki frowned, then nodded, her eyes bright, “I want to talk to you, Nico,” the voice softened, and Eli tried not to start filing all the voice, body, and scent cues she was still sensitive to, “and out there, we won’t disturb Eli.”

Nico glanced back to Eli, who was rubbing her eyes, sickened by the discoloration under her fingernails. First, Eli told herself, she was scrubbing herself all over, BEFORE she looked into a mirror.

“Cover the bathroom mirror, Nico. Please. I want to wash up.” Eli slumped.

Maki stood, her voice kind, “I’ll do that while Nico finds your phone and stuff.” Resolute purple eyes met Eli’s, “We’ll be right outside. Don’t worry.”

Eli stopped a snarl. How did her life get so out of control that strangers who wanted to captivate her best friend were now patronizing her. Maki smiled encouragingly and Eli’s fists clenched, dirty nails digging into her palms, a growl rising and then Nico’s voice was a slap.

“Eli.”

Eli glanced down. Nico shook her head, a quick motion, lips pressed together in a frown. Eli closed her eyes and opened her palms.

“You’re okay,” Nico stated. “Just relax for now. You need rest.”

Eli knew that was the truth.

###

You was pacing the lobby, totally not dressed for the Ohara aesthetic in a polo and well worn nylon running shorts. She’d expected Kanan to be at their usual balcony table, but no, and after a half an hour and no response to any of her texts. You had been forced to ask the assistance of the hotel staff. And now she was waiting.

“You!” Kanan was rushing toward her, in leggings and a cropped sweatshirt, “I’m so sorry. There was an emergency last night and…”

All You’s danger tells went off and she stepped to Kanan’s side, her voice hushed, confidential, “Are you and Mari all right? What happened?”

“Let’s go outside.” Kanan led You through the lobby, to step out in view of the beach. It was either a slow day at the hotel or Mari had somehow made all the guests be occupied elsewhere. Mari had some kind of inherited hotelier hospitality magic that You thought made her more of a magical creature than many of those attending CRAAVI meetings, but it was a magic You avoided messing with. Give her the depths and shape changers and tentacled dangers, not hangry guests and thirsty vacationers.

Beach in front, pool behind, random wanderers on the wooden boardwalk, no one around the pool, easy to spot if anyone was approaching, Kanan stopped and fixed her ponytail, “I really need a run.”

“Not a swim?”

Kanan grimaced and gestured with her cast, “I’m tired of extra layers.”

You nodded sympathetically, “yeah, I bet you miss…”

Kanan cut You off, “I’m sorry I didn’t call you last night. There was an emergency. Eli, the dancer I’m working with…” Kanan hesitated, “became ill and then her roommate…” Kanan chuckled, gaze distant as she remembered Nico right in Mari’s face, not impressed, not backing down a centimeter.

“Sounds exciting.”

“Too exciting.” Kanan sighed and decided to drop dramatically into a chaise, “Plus, that DJ Mari’s been after forever showed up this morning. And wasn’t completely focused on Mari.” Kanan rolled her eyes, her non injured arm across her forehead, “and you know how my wife HATES not being the center of attention for all the pretty people in the room.”

“I do.” You dropped into the next chair.

“So why’d you call?”

“Check the LACryps hashtag sometime.”

You had spit sourness as she spoke. Surprised, Kanan pivoted on her hip to stare.

You kept staring at the sky, eyes nearly a matching blue, her facial expression and tone back to a carefully cultivated neutral, “Someone’s stirring up rumors, I had to warn Bo to stay off shore, but most of her group are with the whales this season. Yoshiko hasn’t heard anything yet, but she rarely dives into the internet.”

“No, that’s what she has you for. Inside information. Advance warning.” Kanan frowned, picturing Yoshiko frazzled, static electricity tightening her hair into curls, juggling her phone, brow furrowed as she kept her glamor carefully dulled, trying to organize the physical index cards she writes CRAAVI agendas on. So they can be more easily burnt when she was done with them. Yoshiko held too many secrets to live an online life. Kanan let her voice drop most of an octave, “Your godless technology burns at the touch of one who has swept the glory of Heaven’s dome with her wings.” Kanan stretched out arms, enjoying You’s amusement at the mockery, but then practical Kanan was back, “Has Hanamaru even learned to use that mini iPad you got her last year?”

You winced, “I might have seen it, next to her F L I P phone last time I stopped by. I think Yoshiko was using it as a coaster.”

Kanan blew out a long breath, “Let’s hope the fate of the world doesn’t rely too much on them.”

“Yeah.”

The waves and swooping gulls let both women exhale their worries as they sat in friendly silence.

###

The cabana was nice, Maki had to admit, with a breeze, a blueberry mango smoothie at hand, and Nico leaning in with the curtains drawn and no one watching and…

“Maki?” Nico, sounding worried.

Maki forced herself out of a fantasy, smiling, “I missed you.”

“You seemed busy.” Nico’s scrunched up grumpy face was as cute as the rest of her expressions, Maki decided, eager to catalog them all.

Maki leaned back, running both hands through her hair, hat tossed aside, remembering the relief she felt when Aya confirmed all her gigs were cancelled through the end of the month, “I was glad to be heading home…” She couldn’t say “to you” yet, they’d barely had any conversations that didn’t involve the words Eli, or cryptids, or werewolves…

“Nico could have handled Eli.” Nico sounded annoyed.

Maki sighed. There was that word. But then she glanced over and Nico was leaning even more forward, her eyes watching Maki’s fingers as they snagged on a tangle of curls. “I don’t mind.” Maki slid a finger through the condensation on her glass, “It seems like a lot though. You’re a good friend.”

Nico huffed and repeated, “Nico can handle it.”

Maki needed to make a quick detour away from the wall of exasperation she was about to SMACK into so she sat up and leaned forward, nearer to Nico, but not yet as near as she'd been dreaming about, “Want to take a walk? And get lunch?” A chuckle as Nico almost smiled so Maki dared to say what she’d been rehearsing on the drive from LAX, “I’ve been wanting to take you out since I met you.”

So much earnestness in the eyes that suddenly wouldn’t look away from hers. Nico felt her frustration and worry over Eli fade as new feelings took over, curiosity, longing, heat..the air seemed to close in, a tingle, electricity raising the hairs on Nico’s arms, wind picking up to tumble Maki’s curls with a restlessness that Nico wanted to tame, but before Nico could close the gap, a huge gust of wind slapped the curtains against her back, forcing her forward into a startled Maki as a scream arced over the roof of their cabana.

Something large splashed into the pool.

A/N: Right ho...and we merrily roll along. I am working my way back to 'Can't Get Started', but we have reached the fiddly bits of this one, where attention to detail must be paid.

Don't forget to tip your hat and say 'howdy' ; )

[kuvvydraws]

Gabriel (Good Omens) x Reader

The Chicken That Finally Crossed The Fucking Road

Chapter 2

*     

*

     Having someone move in with you within a day was an adventure, and one you wouldn’t want to partake in ever again.

     The easy part was the talk with your landlady, and the woman was happy that you were no longer living on your own with how dangerous London was for young people like you, gullible and vulnerable; her words, not yours. Her husband, on the other hand, found heavily immoral that your roommate was a man and that you both were single, and he made sure his opinion was listened by the whole neighbourhood.

      One would say that dealing with the people responsible of your housing was the difficult part. It was a difficult part indeed, just not the only one.

     Dealing with Gabriel was a Whole Thing on its own.

     You know those old people that have a hard time coping with technology and new stuff and just complain when nothing goes their way? That was Gabriel. While eager to learn, he behaved like every object was invented yesterday and everyone in the world got together in a secret meeting to learn how to handle it just so hey could spite him. You were sure he believed all the blenders from all the kitchens in the world were out there to get him. At least he was polite about it.

     Having him moving in was a poltergeist experience. He had no problem with the flat’s layout, and you, expecting some snide comment from his rich ass about your minuscule place of residence, felt much more at ease. The issue with his wardrobe was a bit more pressing. He had nothing but the clothing he was wearing the day you two had met, and that was more like a Trojan costume for a thematic party than anything else. It did match his old fashioned aura, and reinforced that feeling you had about him not belonging to any era in history, but that was about it.

      “Oh, the wardrobe shall be no problem at all” he said pleasantly. The very next day, when you came from work, he had his closet filled with the most expensive, most comfortable outfits you had seen in your whole life. Bitch clearly had in his possession a money tree.

      He wanted, he had told you just after settling in, the whole commoner experience. If you translate that into poor dialect, it meant that you had to accompany him to get every piece of the top notch technology available at the market. He was slightly familiar with cell phones and tablets, but computers turned out to be far trickier for him.

      He said he desired to start from point zero and you had no idea, at first, about what that implied. After seeing him fumble with the keyboard of his shiny new smartphone, you concluded that the guy didn’t even know what YouTube was. You wished you’d had a camera at hand when you had showed him, because his expression was priceless.

     A puppy with a new squeaky toy wouldn’t had been more excited.

      He also had the tendency to call you ‘human’ or ‘mortal’ instead of your name. You found this to be hilarious. He would add some dumb adjectives in front of it and seriously, it was like watching a pair of too sweet teens figuring out nicknames fused in one big, clueless businessman. His favourite so far was calling you ‘tiny’. Kind of unfair, yet very fair at the same time, since the top of your head barely brushed his shoulder.

     Cohabitating with Gabriel was easy, unsurprisingly. The moment he had learnt how the vacuum and the mop worked, your stress about the house being indecent midweek flew out of the window. Gabriel found great pleasure in organizing things. You had agreed on a common budget for food too, instead of separating the shelves inside the fridge and he had classified all the groceries by alphabetical and nutritional order. Of course, to be functional, you two now had to cook together.

      Gabriel had obvious issues with food. It was clear that he did not enjoy eating. The cooking process was another talk altogether though. It implied following established steps, times and measurements, and he had even bought a colourful apron for, what he said, was the proper attitude and mind set for cooking.

      That sentence, coming from the mouth of a man that hadn’t known what a whisk was three minutes prior,  made you cry in laughter. *

     You were incredibly useful, Gabriel discovered. Not only willing to provide with all the bothersome necessities his body now had, but with living quarters and explanations about what happened around him.

      It had been a long time since Gabriel had had to stay on Earth for more than a few hours, and the world had evolved in ways he couldn’t always comprehend. Things were faster, noisier or more silent, everywhere he went was crowded with people and the air smelled weird, congested his nose and, in some occasions, when he was too close to the back of a car of bus, it irritated his eyes.

     He was still getting used to the body, to the sensations and nerves and strange inner reactions and noises it would make. Being so far from divinity had also taken a toll on him, and due the forced tiredness he had to lay down on a bed -his bed now- and sleep. He wasn’t sure he liked sleeping. He didn’t dislike it per se, but he was aware that his surrounding were not part the real world, and that time was a mockery. He would remember moments of his angelic existence, mostly, but also dreamed with new, made up, things. He wasn’t sure he was comfortable with that.

     He didn’t sleep every night, and would spent his time reading or watching videos. You had books all over the flat, as if a library had exploded in the centre of the room. Some were in English, some were not. Those fascinated Gabriel. He could guess the general intentions when in a conversation with someone no matter the language, but reading was another matter. You also had no preference about topics, and the novels, encyclopaedias, dictionaries and collections of poems would mixt with the astronomy, art and engineering books right under the pot of that thick leaved  plant you had growing near the windows. After thoroughly dusting the area, Gabriel found the mess didn’t bother him that much.

     The nights he did sleep were not always good. He would wake up covered in cold sweat, a scream choked inside his throat and his body painfully taut or trembling uncontrollably. He tried to be silent. As an Archangel, he feared nothing, and no stupid machination the human world would make him stutter. The pictures of Hell affected him differently though. So he kept quiet. He took a shower every time, scrubbing hard, and by the time he was done and on his way to rest on the ugly couch at the living room, the light of the kitchen would already be lit.

     You sat with him every time, at his left so you wouldn’t obstruct the view from the window, and handed him a mug with tea. He never looked at you, and you never spoke a word.

     Gabriel tried to keep his body strong, now more than ever. His lack of celestial influence was no excuse to grow soft, and he had created an exercise routine. He woke up at sunrise everyday and went for a run, and then followed some exercises before showering. You usually emerged from your room at that time, clad in pyjamas, shoved you feet in some ugly and ragged trainers Gabriel refused to even look at, put on a jacket and went to the coffee shop on the opposite side of the street to fetch some coffee. You always brought the same tea for yourself, claiming you had a delicate stomach at such an early time, but Gabriel’s beverage changed everyday. He was starting to pick some favourites.

     You went to work daily, too, and returned very late in the evening. Your shifts were scheduled oddly, and you spent the majority of the day out. Gabriel was social by nature, and, while his purpose on Earth was to learn, he had to do it from real experience, not only books. So he took his tablet -you had bought him a protector for it decorated with a pair of what humans thought were angel wings, and Gabriel didn’t now if to laugh or to cringe, although he thanked you nonetheless-, a notebook, some far too expensive pen and a book, and went outside to read or take annotations on particular behaviours.

     He was always home by the time you arrived, exhausted, from work. *

     You groaned, every step of the stair high as a mountain. You lived on the last floor, the fifth, in the building. You just climbed up to the first one. Life was a terrible thing. By the time you reached upstairs, you were panting like a congested fifteen-year old bulldog, and you bag-pack weighted a ton of bricks.

      You crossed the doorway, kicked your shoes to one side -Gabriel would had your head for it-, the bag to the other, and face planted on the couch, the armrest digging sharply in your stomach. Gabriel, sitting straight as a broomstick on the other side of the cushions yet looking incredibly comfortable at the same time, gave you a sideways glance before returning to his book briefly to dogear it. On his lap rested his faithful notebook.

      “I see you have returned. How was work today?”

      He was like a therapist at his hour. He let you ramble while going to close the door. It’s not like he could understand you, your face buried in the fabric as it was, you socked feet on the air. This time, you just grunted. It’s been a lot like that recently.

     “I’m in severe pain at this very moment” you whined, not daring to move a muscle “. And I’m hungry too.”

      Your arms were heavy, and so were your legs, like you had attached weights to them and then went to win a marathon. Existing was a bit too much right now; for some reason, the restaurant you worked at had gotten surprisingly popular in a very short time, and the clients wouldn’t top coming. You were stressed every second of it, now not having time to even joke or chat with your co-workers between servings. Everyone but the manager was jumpy, and grumpy and the bad mood in the atmosphere increased with each passing day. The cooks at the back would bark at you waiters for being two seconds too late, and today you had slipped with something -you swore it had been that damned child from table seven throwing a spoon full of ice-cream at your feet- and landed heavily on your wrist. You hadn’t twisted it by pure luck, but it still ached, and an ugly, throbbing, purplish mark had found its home in the area.

      You saw Gabriel’s white crocs pass in front of your face -the best fucking purchase you had convinced someone to make- and he handed you a kitchen towel with ice. He was a businessman in his own house too, dressed sharp and elegantly. A month after becoming roomies and you hadn’t seen him in pyjamas yet. You drew the line at some point though, and it was located at the exact time you had noticed he would wear formal shoes even inside. Getting him to discard his scarf and coat hadn’t been that hard.

      Gabriel claimed the crocs were the ugliest thing he had the disgrace to glaze upon. You had agreed wholeheartedly. They were too white and the creator had decided to sprinkle holographic glitter on them too.  They were positively horrid. And you had been dying to see Gabriel wear them.

      Poor Gabriel, bless his soul, had obliged. He had forced you to buy what he considered the most atrocious thing in the store besides his new shoes. It was socks. Fluffy, sprinkled with pancakes and the face of the Grinch -of all things to put with pancakes- all over and you had fell in love. You only put them inside the house, and Gabriel cringed every time he would mistakenly look at your feet now. For someone with Gabriel’s sense of style, your mere existence was abhorrent. It was not that your fashion inclinations were all over the place, it was that you had sold them for a chewed corn chip at the flea market on a Sunday afternoon. He had seen you in pyjamas, in teared pants, in shirts with corny messages and in those puke inducing socks, among other atrocities.

      Right now, bent over the sofa, you were wearing what Gabriel believed to be your best clothes. You had an oversized hoodie -you had thousands of those, Gabriel believed- from which neck protruded the white collar of a dress shirt, your previously pleaded pants, now wrinkled, still maintained the ironed fold somehow, but your socks showed now two holes, one each, at the front part. You would have to throw them out again. You destroyed a pair every two weeks and Gabriel was sure half of your income was sorely designated to acquire socks.

     He cleared his throat and you sent him your deadliest glare. Gabriel stood there, unaffected, hands comfortably resting in the pockets of his pants. On the crook of his elbow hung his apron. “It’s dinner time” he said “. Go change, we have soup tonight. I’ve bought onions, and eggs and bread.”

     You had told him about your mom’s recipe a week ago. Gabriel, a big hater of anything more solid that jelly, had discovered the metaphorical Garden of Wonders in soup. He loved soup. He locked eyes with you and made a show of putting his apron on. You grunted again and stood, heading tiredly to your room to change. You would shower after dinner.

     Cooking was methodical -Gabriel wasn’t very fond of physical contact and you always kept enough distance as not to make him uncomfortable- and an actual approach at conversation. You did get some commentary on anecdotes that happened today while Gabriel chopped veggies with a surgeon’s accuracy. He always pointed that he wanted to listen, learn about what people did with their dull lives and whatnot.

      Gabriel made sure to have time to listen to you. He never, ever, made you feel dumb for mispronouncing  a word and would always give you helpful tips with grammar. You appreciated it immensely. You would be reading, wouldn’t understand a term and he gladly explained it to you, or spelled a word you didn’t catch right from TV and, in short, let you ramble and corrected your grammar whenever you had a question about anything.

      You were so fucking grateful for having him.

      You weren’t anxious or self-conscious about your language skills around him. You didn’t have to be on guard 24/7 because of judgement and you didn’t have to worry about him laughing at you behind your back. He was far too good for that. Had he not been a snarky, rich bitch, you would’ve thought him an angel of sorts.

     Angel or not, you thought looking at him, he’s dumb as fuck.

     The aforementioned angel had just taken a huge bite out of a red onion and now his eyes were, quote-unquote, ‘leaking’. His face was getting very red.

     You ran to get him a glass of water. *

     Gabriel thought he would feel lonely here on Earth, or bored. He had a lot of labours up in Heaven, very important duties. He was sure Michael was now taking care of them, but he felt kind of bad for relying so much on her. Upstairs decision or not, Michael had her own duties too. He hoped Sandalphon was helping her.

     As an Archangel, he was basically the representative for the Higher Powers among the other, lesser angels. He was to assign protocols, check the security and make sure that everything in Heaven, from the upper spheres to the organization and distribution of newly arrived souls ran smoothly. He was very good at his job and took pride in its effectiveness.

     He had had to find new people to be around daily now, during your absence. Coffee shops and little restaurants were his usual spots to find a loner human willing to share a conversation, no matter the age or gender or whatever -Gabriel wasn’t very sure what gender was, but many humans seemed to believe it was a huge thing or something, and after some well aged people screamed at him for indecency and tried to call him out for his sins, which he did not have, he had decided that it was better to leave some topics untouched.

     He had not felt that necessity with you yet. You relied on him when you had doubts and random things to ask about anything and it made him feel so fucking appreciated it was unbelievable. From the simplest of questions regarding his day -you always made a point to ask him about his day, even if his routine was always the same- to you screaming his name so he would come ad watch a cool thing on a video or a show you thought he could be interested in.

     Half of the time, Gabriel didn’t know what you were talking about, and you would pause the video and explain the general context to him, which would cause a new landside  of questions and, maybe, three hours later, you would return to the original topic. That didn’t happen most of the time but it didn’t seem to bother either of you.

     Existence on Earth wasn’t as shabby as he would have thought it to be. 

     It was kind of... tolerable.

-----------

Chapter 1

[blueboxesandtrafficcones]

Barcelona is for Lovers - Chapter 2

Chapter 2!  Many thanks to @stupidsatsuma.  @doctorroseprompts

Chapter 3 will be available on March 10th; chapters are posted every other Sunday

General warnings for: hanky panky.  Take the ‘lovers’ part of the title seriously.

Masterlist

AO3

Summary

Three months after Rose and the Doctor are reunited and promptly ditched on a beach in Norway, they are still trying to find their feet.  Rose plans a trip to Barcelona for them to relax, reconnect, and hopefully consummate their relationship.

They were up early the next morning, on the road not long after the sun appeared.  Rose’s plan was to be at the house and have the shopping done by noon, so as to have the afternoon free for sunbathing.  The property came with a pool and private beach access, and she wanted to make good use of both.

Dressed in tiny shorts and a tank top, she revelled in the warm Spanish sun.  Driving along the coast with the wind in her hair, the Doctor next to her, she rather thought this was as close to heaven as one could get without the TARDIS.

Of course, he was the largest part of that sense of peace, and half the reason she was dressed so skimpily.  For someone who spent so much time bragging about his ‘superior biology’, she had quickly twigged to his ability to talk being directly inverse to how much skin she was showing.  Now that he was biologically human, or near enough, the barest hint of her cleavage would sent him into a total shutdown.

For totally unrelated reasons, she suddenly found her taste in shirts and blouses ran towards the low-cut end of the spectrum.

When she’d walked out of the loo that morning, he’d stopped speaking mid-sentence as he stared at her, mouth gaping like a fish.  He’d been unusually reticent since, though his warm palm had barely left her upper thigh the entire drive.

“So tell me about this house.”  He had to shout to be heard, but his grin said he didn’t mind.

“Erm, three bedrooms, an exotic tropical garden end quote, barbeque… supposed to be fabulous view, good for stargazing, just generally being outside.  Pool.  Uh, beach is… about 500 meters away or so.  The pictures looked gorgeous, at least.  Ocean view from the master bedroom.”

“Sounds brilliant.”

“Good.”  She relaxed, savoring the spectacular vistas as they wound their way along the coastal highway.  It was a perfect day, no stress, no worries, and the man she loved by her side.  She had plenty of contingency plans in case he got overwhelmingly bored, and hoped that at least by midweek they’d be too busy exploring each other for his attention to wander.

A girl could dream.

They arrived late midmorning, parking next to the house before easily locating the lockbox with the house keys.  It wasn’t terribly impressive from the outside, a little white, gated house, but Rose gasped once they made their way inside.  “Look at this!”

The living room was a cheerful yellow color, marble floors and light wood furniture.  The wood-burning fireplace was the focal point, and she stopped to admire it for only a moment before moving on.  The dining room and kitchen weren’t particularly special, merely functional, but Rose didn’t plan to spend a lot of time in either room.  One of the greatest perks of being an heiress, she’d quickly discovered, was not having to feel guilty spending money on takeaway and restaurants, especially if she tipped well.

“Rose, come look at this,” the Doctor called, and she followed his voice until she found him in the middle of a bedroom, already settling the bags at the foot of the bed.  Based on the pictures the rental agency had supplied, it was the master.

“Ooh, nice,” she approved, taking in the king-sized bed.  Outside the windows sparkled the Mediterranean, and the sight of an unfamiliar place still made her shiver with delight.

He coughed deliberately, and she turned to face him – and gasped.

“Oh my God.”  Pushing past him she stepped into the master bathroom.  “This is amazing.”  It was all marble, big and airy, with his-and-her sinks, a shower stall – and a jacuzzi.  It looked snug for two people, but she suspected they’d be able to fit.

When there’s a will…

“Right, shall we go explore outside?” the Doctor asked, offering her his hand.

“Let’s.”  Lacing their fingers together, she let him drag her through the house onto the patio behind it.  The house sat on the top of a hill, with what looked like two separate outdoor spaces.  One was centered around the pool, with sofas and lounge chairs for sunbathing.  The pool was clean, a decent size, and she was ridiculously tempted to jump right in, clothes and all.

On the other side of the house, connected to the pool by a small brick walkway, was another seating area, this time overlooking the water sparkling below with another couch and more lounge chairs.  Just down the side of the house from that was a large outdoor table, perfect for a group.

Rose went up to the edge of the patio, staring out at the water.  It was all so incredible, more beautiful than the pictures, and felt as new and exciting as any alien world.

“This was a perfect place to come,” the Doctor murmured, stepping up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist.

“Yeah?”  She snuggled back into him, resting her head on his chest.  His fingertips found their way beneath the hem of her tank, lightly brushing against skin and making her shiver.

“Yeah.”  He kissed her temple, and they simply swayed there in the warm sun, watching the waves crashing down below.  “We should check out the beach later.”

“Mhmm.  And go to the shops.”  Rose didn’t move though; she never wanted to leave his arms.

“Want to walk down to the beach now?” the Doctor suggested, as they put the last of the groceries away.  They’d gone into one of the local villages, having an early lunch before picking up some staples and breakfast supplies.

“Sure.  I’m going to put my suit on, though, and we should take some of the beach stuff, stay awhile.”

He nodded.  “I’ll go rummage around outside, find the towels, that sort of thing.”  They headed back towards the bedroom hand in hand.

“No suit?”  Stopping in the doorway, Rose pouted up at him.  She leaned back against the doorjamb, and had to fight a smile when he pressed her up against it, raining tiny kisses over her face.

“No, temptress.  Not today.”

“Okay.”  Rose resolved to pack it anyway, just in case he changed his mind – if for no other reason than he’d bake in the sun otherwise.  “Now, go. No peeking!” she teased, swatting him away.

He went reluctantly, holding onto her fingers until the last possible second.  “Meet me outside when you’re ready.”

Rose waited until he’d vanished from sight to shut the door, diving for her bag.  She’d purchased and packed the teeniest, tiniest bikinis she could find, and now had to decide – quickly – which she wanted him to see first.  After a moment’s debate she settled on the one that was TARDIS blue, before pulling her tank and shorts on over it.  Shoving a pair of his swim trunks (and where he’d found a pair with pinstripes she’d never know) into a shoulder bag with suntan lotion and various other odds and ends, it wasn’t long before she met him outside.

“Rose!”  He kissed her firmly, as though she’d been away ten years not ten minutes.

“Ready to go?”  She kissed him back just as gladly, the taste of him still a novelty after only three months.  A stop in the kitchen had turned up some snacks and water bottles, and she slathered on another coating of sunscreen – though she fully intended to have him do her back.

“Yep.”  He patted his own shoulder bag gleefully, a wiggle of his eyebrows making her wonder what all was in there – he still maintained the ability to make things bigger on the inside, though he refused to explain how.

“Allons-y!” Rose cried, grabbing his hand and darting down the tiled path.  He laughed, letting her tug him along, and hearing him behind her, his palm snug against hers on a bright, beautiful day, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so happy.

The path abruptly spilled out onto a white sand beach.  With no one else in sight they had the place to themselves, and Rose wasted no time in dumping the bag and kicking off her shoes to run towards the water.

“What’re you doing?” the Doctor called after her, still laughing, but she didn’t hesitate to wade into the water knee deep.

“Testing the water!”

“And?”

“It’s beautiful!”  She turned her back on the water to look at him, grinning to see he’d left his bag next to hers and was at the edge of the water.

“Let’s get set up first, yeah?” he encouraged, and it was only his smiling face that tempted her out of the ocean.  She padded up the sand to their things, where he stood digging in his bag.  “There’s a blanket somewhere.”  He reached in up to his shoulder for a moment.  “Aha!”  Brandishing the bright fabric like a trophy, he passed her one end and they spread it out.  Their shoes and bags went in each corner to secure it, and Rose stepped back to survey it carefully.  It was large enough for them to share comfortably, with plenty of extra space.

“Perfect,” she declared after a moment.  “Can you put some lotion on my back, then we can get in the water?”

The Doctor was closer to her bag, and quickly located the bottle.  “Sure – come’ere.”

With an innocent smile, she whipped the tank off and turned her back to him.  “Thanks, love.”

He spluttered, making a few odd, wheezing noises.  “Uh huh!”  She merely swept up her hair out of the way and waited patiently.

The lotion was cold, but his warm hands smoothing it into her skin was what made her shiver.  “Mmhmm.”  It was a massage and application in one, nimble fingers relieving what little stress remained.  He worked on her back far longer than necessary, to the point where she was almost asleep or ready to jump him when he cleared his throat.

“Done.”  His voice had gone deep, and he stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her back against him.  Her breath hitched when she realized he was aroused, and more importantly, was letting her know. It wasn’t all that long ago he’d have done his damnedest to hide it from her.

“You should join me in the water,” she rasped, rocking her hips slightly back against him.

“I didn’t bring my suit.”  His hands slipped slower, bracketing her hips and securing her tightly against him.  If he’d thought that would stop her wriggling, he was sorely mistaken.

“I did – though, you could always go starkers.”

He nuzzled his face into her neck, pressing kisses along her skin.  “I think I’ll stay here for a bit – you go.”

“Sure?”

“Mhmm.”

His grip loosened, and she reluctantly stepped away, turning to face him.  “Okay.  But will you consider changing and joining me?  And don’t you dare eat all the snacks I brought!”

“I won’t,” he promised, before frowning.  “Er, I will to the first, won’t to the second.”

“All right.”  Taking another step back, she turned to face the water again as she undid the clasp of her shorts, keeping her legs straight and bending at the waist as she slowly lowered them as provocatively as possible.  He groaned, a wonderful, erotic moan, and she tossed her shorts in the vague direction of their stuff, running towards the water before she shoved him to the sand and rode him in broad daylight on a private-but-not-exclusive-to-them beach.

Trying to shake her desperate arousal she dove headfirst into the waves, submerging herself in the water.  The temperature was ideal, the water calm, and as she broke the surface she had the absurd feeling of living in a Disney movie it was so perfect.

She didn’t know how long she swam for, alternating between jumping with the waves and floating on her back, enjoying the peace.  She hadn’t felt so free since arriving in this universe, and she was under no illusions that that was because of anything but the man waiting for her on the beach.  Suddenly missing him despite being so close, she made her way back to shore. By the time she reached dry sand he was there, waiting for her.

“How is it?”

“Fantastic.”  They shared a grin at her use of his old catchphrase.  “I think you’d love it – will you please come in?”

“Already changed,” he admitted, and she realized he had; afraid of getting distracted by thoughts of his shorts, and what lay under them, she hadn’t looked.  “Didn’t want to interrupt, though.”

“Well, come on, then,” she ordered, pulling him back towards their stuff.  “Ditch the shirt and sunglasses, let’s go play.”

The Doctor grumbled but did as bid, before snatching her up and throwing her over his shoulder, so her head hung near his bum as she shrieked.

“Doctor!  What’re you doing?”

He waited until he was waist deep in the water, setting her down and holding her close before admitting, “Being on a beach and not touching you… was not pleasant.”

Her faux anger melted away, and she nestled into his arms.  “I know the feeling.”  His single heart beat beneath her ear, soothing the still-jagged edges of her soul.  “I love you,” she murmured, just because she could.

“I love you too,” he whispered back.  And then he swept her legs out from under her, dunking her in the ocean.

When she surfaced he was laughing, and she narrowed her eyes.  “This means war,” she warned, but he just gave her a cocky smile.

“Bring it.”

She lunged at him, knocking him off his feet.  As soon as he was under she scrambled away, trying to gain some distance.  He resurfaced closer to her than expected, and her eyes widened as she tried to back away.  He was faster, dunking her again, though she managed to pull him under with her.  They struggled for long minutes, a dunking and splashing war for the ages.

She eventually grew tired and more interested in other things, so the next time he dunked her, she ‘accidentally’ lost her bikini top, tucking it into the back of her bottoms before popping up.

He lunged for her again and froze, eyes going wide before he spun around.

“Something wrong?”

“You- you- ah- your top…” he fumbled, ears turning red.

“Hmm?”  She glanced down and gasped, as if unaware that she was now topless.  “Oops!”  His back was still firmly to her, and she rolled her eyes.  “You can turn around.”

He did before squeaking and continuing, making a seamless 360* turn.  “It’s still missing.”

“I know.”  She made her way out of the water, surreptitiously sticking the tiny scrap of fabric in her bag before stretching out on her back on the blanket.

The Doctor quickly joined her, keeping his eyes averted, and she wrinkled her nose.

“Doctor?”  Rose waited until she had his attention.  “It’s okay – you can look.”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he said awkwardly, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck.

“Do I look uncomfortable?  Babe, trust me, I’ll tell you if anything’s too much.”  She folded one arm behind her head, the other patting the empty space next to her.  “Come on.”

He reluctantly lay next to her on his front, arms folded below him to prop him up.  His gaze mostly stayed on her face, though it would occasionally dart down to her breasts.

Rose brought her other arm up behind her head, watching his face.  “Doctor?”

“Yes?”  His eyes snapped up, and he looked so guilty she sighed, reaching one hand out to caress his cheek and jaw.

“It’s okay,” she repeated gently.  “You can look, if you want.”  He glanced down before meeting her eye again.

“Sure?”

She smiled.  “Thank you for checking, but yes.  I’ve got my tank top – I could cover up if I wanted to.”

His eyebrows lifted in surprise then consideration, weighing the truth of her words.

“You can even,” she dogged on, hoping she wasn’t about to give him a heart attack, “touch.  If you want.”

A look of shock and awe crossed his face, and he rolled onto his side, propping himself up with one hand and leaving the other free, letting it rest on the blanket between them.  “Yeah?”

Smiling, she just nodded, watching his face as he stared at her.  He slowly reached out a shaking hand, changing direction at the last moment to settle it on her stomach.  His fingers spread, covering the pale expanse, resting there, she supposed, to allow them both to grow comfortable with the touch.  Of course, it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary; most nights they fell asleep snuggled together, his front to her back, palm anchoring her to him.

After an unknowable number of heartbeats his touch lightened until only his index finger caressed her skin, tracing designs.  With a jolt she realized it was his language, the same circular characters from the TARDIS, and she wondered if it was his name, if he was claiming her.

She hoped he was.

Her stomach tensed with anticipation as the digit meandered its way up her skin until it skimmed under her breasts.  At the first touch against the bottom curve of one she let out a sigh, sinking deeper into the blanket in an effort to relax.  She felt tightly strung, as though with a sudden move she would snap in two.  After three months of near-constant arousal, waiting for them to be in a place physically and emotionally to act on it, his fingers actually on her skin nearly caused her to burst into flames.

The fingertip skated up her breast, circling ever closer to her nipple.  Watching with bated breath, she mentally encouraged him closer, closer, closer… yes!  He brushed over it, gently flicking it back and forth, sending a bolt of arousal through her, her back instinctively arching up to force a firmer touch.

“Please,” Rose whimpered, fisting the blanket below her.  “Doctor, please.”  Startled eyes met hers, and he looked pleased, embarrassed, and aroused, all at once.

The Doctor didn’t reply, just brought his thumb down to smooth over the nub more firmly before pinching it between the thumb and index finger, rubbing it between them gently.

“Shit.”  She was panting now, too turned on to be embarrassed at how ready she was from such a simple touch.  Desire had transitioned to a desperate need, burning in her veins.

He turned his attention to her other breast, repeating the same torture, drawing more needy sounds from Rose.

“Can I-”

“Anything,” she interrupted, not caring as long he kept touching her.  His head slowly lowered, and she could already feel his mouth around her breast before he was there, but a sound behind him drew her attention away.  “Oh fuck, please, no.”

His head jerked up, blinking at her, but she didn’t pay attention, merely scrambling to turn onto her stomach.  A large group of people were coming up the beach from behind him, talking and carrying on, a mix of children and adults.  The last thing she wanted was to stop, but she wanted to find out the local decency laws even less.  Laying out topless was one thing, and the other group probably wouldn’t blink if they even noticed, but foreplay was another matter altogether.

“What do you want to do?” he asked quietly, glaring over his shoulder at the group.  They were still a decent ways away, barely audible, but it was no longer the quiet, private paradise it had been ten minutes previous.

Burying her face in the blanket, she let out a quiet scream of frustration as he rubbed her back.  Groaning, she turned her head to look up at him.  “We could go spend some time by the pool?”

“Well-”  A baby in the other group began to wail, and his face pinched.  “Yeah, let’s go.”

[quicksilversquared]

A Musical Connection Ch. 8

In a world where soulmate bonds can range from a simple matching mark to timers to shared dreams, of course Adrien would get saddled with an inconvenient bond that keeps him from going out and living life- because whenever his soulmate sings, Adrien has to as well.

But the singing, as inconvenient as it is, presents another opportunity. Can Adrien use it to track down his soulmate?

(Ch 1)  (Ch 2)  (Ch 3)  (Ch. 4) (Ch. 5) (Ch. 6) (Ch. 7)

(AO3) (FF.net)

Adrien's soulmate was certainly looking forward to the holidays. He knew that because she- and, by extension, he- kept bursting out into song. Sometimes it was a full song, sometimes only a verse or two, sometimes just humming a song or a few bars, but it was often.

At least he didn't have any photoshoots scheduled and so could stay home, singing along cheerfully as he played video games and started looking over his course books for the next semester. All of his remaining obligations were just with friends, and they would understand if he interrupted their gathering to sing. Knowing them, they might even join in, just for fun.

"Fair warning- my soulmate has been bursting into song practically all day," Adrien told Nino as soon as he stepped into his friend's living room for their holiday get-together. "So I doubt that I'll be able to make it through the evening without singing at all."

Nino laughed. "Well, I should hope that you'll do a bit of singing. The four of us got invited to go join Rose and a few others in caroling near the Eiffel Tower later this evening- and yes, you have to join us. It'll be fun."

Adrien's eyes widened and he felt the familiar frustration well up as yet again, even his best friend didn't seem to be taking the problems his soulmate bond came with seriously. He had told Nino that he wasn't going to sing again until he found his soulmate. "I can't. You know I can't. I'll come along, fine, but I'm not singing."

"Dude. It's the holidays! Just this once."

"Soulmate bonds don't take a holiday. I'm not that lucky." Adrien crossed his arms stubbornly. What he had thought would be a nice, relaxing get-together was fast turning stressful, and a small, panicky part of him was tempted to turn around and head right back out. Only the fact that he hadn't gotten to see his friends as much as he would have liked lately kept him in place. "Like I said, I can come. But I won't sing. I don't want to freak my soulmate out."

"Just sing her a message before we start caroling!" Alya called from the kitchen. "Like, 'Hey, soulmate, my name is Adrien and I'm your soulmate, come kiss me under the Eiffel Tower-"

"Already asked Max about that!" Adrien called back, cutting off Alya's awkward-sounding warbling. "We found a site that says that it doesn't work, though. Just like with those bonds where people write on their arms. If I tried to send a specific message, my soulmate would just end up humming the tune. Or singing the original lyrics, the site really wasn't clear."

"Then sing some song about the Eiffel Tower first- no, a couple songs, it can't be that hard to find them- before we start caroling. That could go around the requirement, surely."

Adrien gave the wall in the direction of Alya's voice a deadpan stare. "And what are the chances that my soulmate actually lives in Paris- and is in the city right now? And considering that it would be completely out of the blue, what's the likelihood that she would actually pay attention to the lyrics enough to catch on and be able to get to the Eiffel Tower before we leave?"

There was a "Ah, fair point," from the kitchen. Nino still didn't look convinced.

"You don't need to be self-sacrificing forever, you know," he told Adrien. "Like, I don't get it. You could sing and sure, it would be inconveniencing her, but she's been inconveniencing you. I know that you're used to it, but that's not healthy."

"Except I'm in a position where I can handle being inconvenienced, and I don't know if she can say the same," Adrien argued. "Like, sure, it's annoying if I have to delay my degree. But I can afford to stretch my uni experience out for a couple extra years, even if I don't want to, because my family has plenty of money. I can even put it on hold for a bit and it won't screw up my life, because I can still model and earn money that way. Not everyone has that security. And I'm looking for her, and I don't want to scare her into not doing musicals anymore."

"Dude-" Nino started, but Alya interrupted him

"Nino, I need some help in the kitchen, please!"

"Coming, coming!"

"Turnabout is fair play, you know," Plagg said from inside of Adrien's collar as Nino dashed away to help Alya.

"Except she doesn't know that she's forcing me to sing. And I can deal with it, like I literally just said. It's hardly the same." Adrien's soulmate was just innocently going about her life, enjoying her singing and not realizing that she was causing her soulmate any discomfort. If he sang, he knew that his soulmate would be puzzled, and probably more than a little alarmed over the future of her career.

Plagg just shrugged. "Well, then maybe it's time she learned. It could be her Christmas present, knowing that she has a soulmate. I'm sure she's just like you were, when you didn't know that you had a soulmate and you were all sad about it. Do you want your soulmate to be mopey?"

"What if she realizes what's going on and stops doing musicals because she's worried about singing at an inappropriate time?" Adrien countered. "Then I'll never find her!"

Plagg groaned at him. "Or she might limit her singing to certain times of the day only and work at looking for you at the same time you look for her. It probably helps that it's the holidays, not just some random day. It's a special occasion."

Adrien had to think about it. Much to his surprise, Plagg had made a good point. He had gone so far out of his way to avoid singing that it was likely- highly likely- that his soulmate didn't even know that he existed or that she had any sort of soulmate bond. Adrien didn't want to think of his soulmate feeling as lonely as he had before his bond appeared, so it would make sense if he sang once so that she could catch on. And the holidays were a good time to find out, because that was a time of the year when even people who didn't usually sing sometimes sang. If he sang now, then maybe she would know that she didn't have to worry about him interrupting her on a regular basis.

He could only try and hope for the best, really. But this could be his chance to get a bit of normalcy back in his life while still allowing his soulmate to live normally.

There was a knock at the door, and then it pushed open and Marinette stepped through. She grinned when she saw Adrien, wasting no time in setting her purse down so that she could step forward and wrap him up in a tight hug. Adrien returned the hug eagerly, grinning down at his friend. A second later, he was sniffing the air.

"Do I smell butter and chocolate?"

Marinette giggled. "I brought pain au chocolat because I know that's your favorite. There should be enough to have both before we go out caroling and after we come back to warm up."

"Ah, you're my favorite." Adrien gave Marinette another friendly squeeze before releasing her. "Did the end of your semester go well?"

Adrien was pleased to see Marinette nod. "Yeah! It was crazy busy and my fingers got pricked by so many pins because I was working really fast to finish up the last of my projects, but it went smoothly enough, all things considered. And yours?"

He just shrugged. "It was all right. I finished up the last of my tests midweek, so I've kind of been floating since then."

"We'll have to get together often over the break, then," Marinette decided, patting Adrien's arm. Adrien felt his mood lift just by being next to Marinette. Her positive, cheerful attitude almost never failed to make him smile, and he wished that they hung out together more often. "I'll be free for most of the break. Just text me if you're available."

Adrien grinned. "I will. You might have to ban me from the bakery, I'll come over so often."

"Oh, I would never do that. My parents love you too much." Marinette beamed up at him, all sugar and sunshine, and a traitorous part of Adrien's heart wondered what his life would be like if Marinette were his soulmate. It would probably involve a lot of warm family dinners with Marinette and her parents, and curling up together comfortably to study up in her room, each working on their own thing but close enough to exchange little comments every once in a while. It would be comfortable, and there wouldn't be all this drama of having to find an unknown soulmate, and-

-and Adrien had to pull himself away from those thoughts before he fell for someone who wasn't his soulmate again.

Maybe Plagg was right and he did just have a thing for blue-eyed, dark-haired girls. His kwami would probably fall out of the air laughing if Adrien's soulmate ended up looking similar.

"Stop hogging Marinette!" Alya called. She appeared around the corner, looking a bit flushed from the heat of the stove, and wasted no time in trotting over to pull Marinette into a brief hug. She hugged Adrien next. "Hey, has Nino told you what we're doing tonight? Rose just called me this afternoon, because several of her volunteers dropped out."

Marinette giggled. "Actually, Rose told me. I ran into her earlier today and was quite surprised to hear that I had been volunteered."

Alya laughed at that, and then turned to him. "Adrien? Will it be okay? You don't have to sing if you don't really want to."

"Yeah, it'll be fine," Adrien told her. He shrugged slightly at her questioning look, deciding that he could explain his reasoning later if she asked. "I'm looking forward to seeing Rose again, it's been forever!"

"She's been busy with all of her charity events," Marinette agreed. "Organizing events and volunteering and doing school, all at once. I ran into her earlier this semester and asked what she had been up to that week and-" Marinette threw her hands up in the air, making an overwhelmed expression. "Wow. She even had a spreadsheet so that she could keep everything straight and not miss anything. There was a shift at an animal shelter, making dinner at a homeless shelter, a meeting about how to allocate the money they had raised at a bake sale..."

Adrien's head spun a bit imagining that. He hoped that Rose wasn't overextending herself- he knew that if it weren't for his disruptive soulmate bond keeping him from going out, he would have been likely to join a few too many activities at university and burn himself out- but he was sure that Rose knew her limits.

"Anyway, we'll be meeting up with her in an hour," Alya said. "And dinner is ready, so let's eat! Nino and I have been working on it for most of the afternoon."

Marinette giggled at the same time Adrien let out a chuckle. "Nino's been helping? Not just sampling as you go along?"

There was an indignant shout from the kitchen, and then Nino emerged, plates in hand. He gave Adrien a disgruntled look. "Just because I set our dinner on fire once last year..."

Adrien's grin just widened.

"Correction: I supervised, and told Nino what to do so that everything would end up edible." Alya grinned at Nino's pout. "What, babe? That's what happened!"

"Yeah, but you didn't need to tell them that!"

Dinner flew by in a flurry of conversation and laughter. Adrien grinned as Nino shared a story about a mix-up in files when one of his classmates was mixing at a club, where the file was labeled as another song and the mixing went down less than smoothly.

"He mixed a slow jazz piece into a heavy rock 'n roll song," Nino told them with a snicker. "They had completely different key signatures, too! It was a complete mess."

"Did he get in trouble?" Marinette wanted to know. Nino shook his head.

"Nah, not once he explained what had happened. They figured that one of the other DJs must have messed with things as a prank, so they had to go through and check all of the files to make sure they were right. It took them forever."

Adrien had to do his best not to laugh at that. He could just picture the expressions of everyone in the club, dancing or swaying innocently and then getting absolutely blasted by heavy rock. He felt sorry for Nino's classmate, though- he must have been mortified.

Before long, they were all getting bundled back up again to head out and join Rose. Adrien adjusted his scarf around his neck- a new one from the previous year that Marinette had made for him, green like his eyes and oh-so-soft- and made sure that Plagg was tucked away in one of his coat pockets. Next to him, Marinette was adjusting pink earmuffs over her ears and making sure that her own scarf was secure.

"Rose said that she would have hot chocolate there for us to drink while we sing," Nino told them as they finished getting bundled up. "So we shouldn't need to bring water bottles or anything like that."

"Who knows if the hot chocolate will still be hot, though," Alya added with a laugh. "Rose's group will have been out for an hour already. We're relieving a few of the singers that started earlier in the evening," she explained to Adrien. "And then we'll get relieved by the last group. Rose just didn't have enough people to really fill out the middle time slot with the last-minute drop-outs, and it would look funny if there were only, like, four people singing in the area they have set up."

"Aha."

They headed outside, where a light snow was falling. Adrien grinned as Marinette spun around, her arms stretching out to catch the falling flakes. She slipped on a patch of ice and he hastily stepped forward to catch her before she could injure herself.

"Thanks," Marinette said breathlessly, grinning up at him. "I just get so excited about the snow! It really makes it feel like the holidays."

Adrien glanced around, taking in the colorful lights glowing through the fluffy snow in the window boxes and in the trees along the street that had been decorated. Snow swirled in the streetlights, accumulating in little piles along walls and on the parked cars on the streets and in the wreaths hung on doors. It clung to the garlands wrapped around light posts and hung from balconies.

It did look like the holidays now. Adrien felt his mood lift up even more and he joined Marinette in practically skipping along the sidewalk, occasionally slipping and stumbling a little bit as he did. He grinned, feeling lighter than he had in a while.

Being out with his friends was fun. Add that to the excitement that he had found a way to let his soulmate know about their bond without risking her freaking out and potentially stepping away from her musicals and acting, and Adrien was already having a great evening.

Even with the crowds around the Eiffel Tower, it wasn't hard to find Rose's group. The carolers' voices rose above the chatter of the crowd, along with a recording of a piano accompaniment. A table was set out with a container of what was likely to be the hot chocolate and cups next to the group, and one of the carolers was getting himself a drink.

Adrien didn't recognize most of the group, which he wasn't surprised about. He was sure that they were mostly people that Rose had met in university, either in her classes or through the many, many clubs she was involved in. Rose was on the end of the group and was singing along whole-heartedly, her nose and cheeks red from the wind. She grinned and waved when she caught sight of their group, trotting out to greet them once the carol had finished.

"Thank you so much for doing this!" Rose told them, her grin wide. "We're trying to get money to buy presents for poor families, and it would hard to be able to get anyone to notice us if there were only a couple people singing." She pointed to a brightly-painted box on the table that Adrien hadn't noticed before. There was a sign posted next to it explaining their goal. "People have been so generous so far, so we hope to keep that going!"

"Isn't it a bit late to be buying presents for the kids this year?" Adrien asked. The holidays were only a few days away, and he would have to imagine that it would be difficult get presents and get the recipients lined up all in that amount of time.

Rose shrugged. "The charity might put donations they get now into the pot for presents for next year, I'm not sure. Either way, every bit helps!"

Before he knew it, Adrien was getting herded into place in the line, Alya and Nino on one side and Marinette on the other. Rose shoved a songbook into each of their hands- "We follow the order of the songs in the book, then just go back to the start once we finish," she explained- and then they were ready to go.

And so Adrien sang. For the first time in over a year, he got to choose the songs he sang instead of having his soulmate choose for him. Warmth bloomed in his chest, like it always did when he sang along with his soulmate whole-heartedly at home when no one was around.

A grin snuck onto Adrien's face as he belted out the second verse. His soulmate, wherever she was, must have decided to just roll with it and sing along with him. There was no way he would feel so warm and connected to her if she was resisting like he so often did.

He could only hope that she felt the same way after nearly two hours of caroling.

An hour in, during a short break for them to get a quick drink and for Rose to reset her playlist, Adrien noticed that Marinette was shivering slightly next to him. Her arms were crossed against the chill as they waited for the rest of their group to get back. Adrien frowned at that, stepping a bit closer to his friend to try to block some of the wind. They were going to be out here for probably a good half-hour more, at the very least, and it was going to be miserable for Marinette if she was cold. After another moment of deliberation, Adrien stepped even closer and wrapped an arm around Marinette's shoulder, pulling her into his side. Marinette looked up in surprise, then flashed a bright smile at him, tucking herself close.

"Thanks," she told him, curling closer as she adjusted her scarf around her neck. "I don't know why I'm chilly all of a sudden. I was nice and toasty a minute ago."

"Maybe you've just been outside for too long and it caught up with you or something," Adrien suggested, suppressing his own shiver. Without the warmth from his soulmate bond, the chill from the air had set in, and he could feel the bite of the wind even more keenly. "Does this help?"

"Yeah! Thanks, Adrien."

The next song started up with a few tinny notes from the piano recording Rose had, and Adrien didn't hesitate to join in, holding his songbook up so Marinette could see it as well. The warm feeling in his chest flared back up even brighter than before as he sang, warming him to the bone, and Adrien's heart was practically floating.

When he found his soulmate, Adrien had decided, one of the first things he wanted to do together was sing something. They would sing together every evening-

-or would the lovely warm feeling that he got from singing fade once he kissed his soulmate? Adrien knew from his photographer that the need to sing along would fade, but did that mean that other things would change as well? Adrien didn't want them to.

By the time their replacements arrived, Adrien's throat was starting to feel a little scratchy from singing so much in the cold air. He waved to Juleka and her brother as they joined the group along with several strangers. Once the song was over, Adrien and Marinette stepped out to get a drink while the rest of the group started in on a new carol.

"I'm afraid it's not very warm anymore," Rose said apologetically as she handed a cup to each of them. "It was fine for the first hour, but..."

"It's been- what, almost four hours since then? I'm amazed you have anything left at all." Adrien took a long sip and yeah, it was definitely not hot chocolate anymore, but it was still tasty. "You had a lot of people lined up."

"I had to tap a lot of my friends to help fill out the list," Rose admitted. "There were a lot of people in our club who would have helped, but they were going home for the holidays and they live outside of the city. Next year, I'll know to do it earlier, before people leave. And my mom brought more hot chocolate before you guys arrived. I'm sure we would have run out otherwise."

"I think we're going to take off, Rose," Alya said, materializing behind Marinette. Behind her, Nino tucked a bill into the donation box, which had been getting steadily fuller throughout the night. "It's getting pretty nippy out here. Don't get sick from staying out so long."

"Oh, I'll be fine," Rose assured them cheerily. She adjusted her bubblegum-pink scarf around her neck, and Adrien wondered if it was maybe a gift from Marinette. "I've got plenty of layers on. Thanks for coming! And if I don't see you before the holidays, have a merry Christmas and a happy new year!"

"You too, Rose," the four of them said in near-unison, and then they waved to the carolers and headed back towards Nino's apartment. Adrien linked his arm around Marinette's as they walked, keeping his friend close by his side and warm. It didn't take long for them to get back and polish off some properly hot hot chocolate and what was left of the pain au chocolat before bidding each other good-night and going home.

That night, Adrien went to bed with a smile on his lips.

[aliceslantern]

Beyond this Existence, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 10

Summary:  After Xehanort's death, Demyx finds himself unexpectedly human in Radiant Garden. With nothing but fragments of his past and a cryptic statement from Xemnas, he's left to figure out who he is. When Ienzo asks for his help with a project, the two find common ground, but the trauma and secrets in both of their pasts could tear it apart. Zemyx (Demyx/Ienzo), post-KH3 canon compliant

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

Demyx slept deeply, and soundlessly. Admittedly he spent the first few minutes of the morning thinking about the previous afternoon, remembering and wanting touch, finally giving in and taking care of it himself. All traces of any misdeeds washed away in the bath, he got ready for the day. When he saw Ienzo buried in a book at the kitchen table, he was ready to get angry; but it was the same book from yesterday. He kissed him good morning and relished in the fact that he could even do that much. “I’ve been meaning to ask you. Why do you always keep your hair in your face? Is it an aesthetic thing?”

“You sound like Even,” Ienzo said, shaking his head. “Partially, I suppose. When I was little the weight of it would help me avoid sensory overload. Now it's just habit more than anything. I assure you I can see quite well."

“Really?”

“Yes. Seeing or hearing too much would cause me intense anxiety, especially certain pitches. Not so much anymore."

“Mythology,” Demyx said.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. I just want to learn more about you. That’s all.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “Can I see it?”

“It looks like the other one. But, I suppose, if it will sate your curiosity.” He pulled aside his bangs. Ienzo was right; there was no discernible difference. But it was nice to look him fully in the eye.

“...You have a nice face,” Demyx said.

“...Thank you. I-I don’t have any strong feelings about it,” he said, with a laugh.

“So what do you want to do today?” Demyx asked.

“I’m not so sure. It might be nice to get outside. I hear the weather is good.”

“You hear things, but you don’t know.” Demyx sighed. “You have so got to get out more.”

“Precisely why I suggested it,” Ienzo said.

The season was just barely turning, with hints of cold in the breeze. They walked, hand in hand, through the quiet.

“The light feels good,” Ienzo said. “I feel as though I’ve lived here, but I haven’t been a part of it.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

Morning, midweek, the marketplace was nearly empty. They browsed, a bit emptily, but nothing caught either of their eyes. Demyx bought a bag of roasted seeds and they ate it slowly to have something to do.

“I’m going to have to get a job,” Demyx said, counting the change in his palm. “I’m almost out of money.”

“Now that I’d like to see,” Ienzo said.

“What happened to the ambition you saw in me?”

“It doesn’t necessarily relate to making a wage. Lucky for you, you get room and board free.”

“Cool. Great. Now even you don’t believe in me.”

Ienzo rolled his eyes. “Could always ask to make you my research assistant.”

“Yeah, like that’d go over well.” Demyx snorted.

Ienzo laughed. “You’d be miserable. You’d quit within the hour.”

“Well--with you it might not be so bad.”

“No, I’d find you much too distracting. In multiple ways.”

Demyx squeezed his hand.

“Besides, your talents lie elsewhere.”

For a little while they sat and fed the birds with the remaining seeds.

“...I don’t know what will happen,” Demyx said, scattering a handful on the ground.

“In the future? Or in general?”

“Both,” he said. “I mean, I thought I would know, once I became human. But I feel pretty aimless. Haven’t you thought about what will happen after Sora? Will you keep doing experiments?”

“I have not… put much thought in it,” Ienzo said. “Yes, maybe I would research something else? But I haven’t the slightest idea what it would be. Part of me thought I would never make it this far. But here I am. And here you are. And my life has taken turns I never thought possible. I… I don’t know.” His hands fluttered at his throat. “This existence scares me.”

“Me too. So much.”

“I could spend my whole life thinking about what it means to be human after all that and still be wrong.” He hesitated. “I know it’s early yet. But I hope that you might be perhaps involved in some way.”

He felt like he was full of light. He leaned over and kissed him softly. The kiss deepened, but Demyx broke away before it could become unsuitable for public. All this warmth and tenderness and comfort… maybe he didn’t know much about humanity, and maybe their connection was still growing, but Demyx was almost sure that he lo--

“Shall we head back?” Ienzo asked. “I’m feeling a little tired now.”

Demyx jerked, like he was coming out of a dream. “Yeah. Of course.”

They took the short way home, back through residential backstreets that were largely abandoned. People who had once lived here had either died, become Heartless, or plain didn’t return to Radiant Garden. There was an icy vacancy that the rest of the town lacked, and Demyx shuddered. “This place gives me the creeps.”

“I don’t like it either,” Ienzo said. “Let’s hurry. Might be Heartless about.”

They picked up their pace slightly. Several of the homes here were shrouded by overgrown shrubs. Ienzo stopped dead in his tracks. “What’s up?” Demyx asked.

“This place feels… familiar.” He approached the door to one of the homes and brushed the dirt off the nameplate. His back was to Demyx; he couldn’t see his expression. Ienzo reached for the door, hanging slightly off its hinges with age and decay.

“You know it?” Demyx asked.

He was silent for a moment. Looking in on the darkened room, he said in a strained voice, “This used to be my home. This is the first time I’ve come out to this part of town in many years.”

“You mean… with your parents?”

He nodded.

The wind blew coldly.

Ienzo pushed through the half-open door. Demyx hesitated. A place with this much bad energy--especially tied up in emotion--was bound to be crawling with Heartless, something Ienzo no doubt knew. But he seemed to be in a trance.

It was an average home, one that had no doubt once been beautifully furnished. The walls, once a soft peach if the odd preserved patch meant anything, were grayed, and cracked open in places. “Someone must have been after the copper piping,” Demyx muttered. “Assholes.”

The windows were blown out. If there had been nice things, they were broken or had been stolen, and glass littered the threadbare carpet.

Ienzo was breathing quickly. Demyx could see it in the set of his shoulders. He took Ienzo’s hand. “We really should go.” But Ienzo pulled away from him. He knelt down and pulled something out of the glass and dirt.

An old photo. There was a young man and woman, smiling happily. They were dressed professionally, like they were academics. Between them was a younger Ienzo.

“Do you want to take that with you?” Demyx asked. “We can frame it. Make a memorial for them.”

“I thought I would feel something.”

“What?”

There was a terrifying furrow of rawness in his voice. “Demyx, I don’t feel anything.”

He didn’t know what to say. He fumbled. “You know how when you’re about to cry or have a panic attack and everything is numb? I think that’s how you feel.”

“I’m a monster. It's my fault that they--”

Demyx exhaled. “That’s not true. Don’t you ever say that about yourself.” The air in the room shifted. In the corner, Demyx saw the shadows begin to pulse. “Ienzo, we have to go now.”

“If they knew what I was responsible for--”

“You need to calm down. There are Heartless and they’re reacting to you.”

“...then they’d wish I’d never been born.”

The shadows became solid, their gold eyes glowing in the dark. These weren’t weak Shadows, but their stronger, merciless counterparts. “Ienzo, please.” But when he remained motionless, Demyx knew he had to do something. He wrapped his arms around his waist and hauled him up, ready to drag him out the door if that’s what it took.

Ienzo resisted, positively thrashing against him in an aimless, traumatized way. His elbows beat against his ribs. Demyx could feel tears in his eyes.

“Ienzo--”

He screamed. It was a weird, animal sound that set Demyx’s teeth on edge. Clearly he was deep in some memory, something not dealt with, maybe something he’d previously repressed.

He finally got him past the door frame and they collapsed painfully onto the street, Ienzo’s elbows digging into his chest and knocking the breath out of him. Demyx pushed him off and ran to the door, slamming it hard and watching the jam for several anxious moments, waiting for the Heartless to appear, but they seemed to have delved back into their nest. Apparently they weren’t hungry.

Demyx turned back to Ienzo.

He’d curled into a ball and was rocking slightly, an empty look in his face. Demyx knelt down next to him and touched his shoulder. He looked up, the emptiness slowly giving way to pain, and he burst into tears.

Demyx held him for a long time as he cried. The sound of it felt like it would shatter him, and he cried a little too. After a while the sobbing subsided, but Ienzo shook, his whole frame quaking. Demyx kissed his forehead. “You ready to stand?” he asked. “It’s going to be dark soon. I don’t trust that nest.”

He said nothing, locked deep in himself. Demyx helped him up. Ienzo pulled away, hugging himself tightly.

Demyx sighed. “I’m sorry I had to force you like that. I just didn’t want them to attack you. Especially when you were so vulnerable. You get that, right?”

He began walking, heading off towards the castle. Being nonverbal was one thing; he was completely numb. Demyx noticed the photo on the ground. He picked it up and slipped it into his pocket. He stayed several paces behind Ienzo. Demyx couldn’t help but feel like this was somehow his fault, even though there really wasn’t anything he could’ve done. Triggers were triggers.

Once they got back to the castle, Ienzo went to his room and shut the door. The message could not have been clearer: leave me alone.

It began to rain.

It took Demyx a long time to fall asleep that night. When he finally did, he was bombarded with images of the inside of that house, crawling with darkness, until he saw watched it tear him and Ienzo apart.

The images shifted, turned into the Keyblade Graveyard. People in armor, alive, but instead of fighting monsters they were fighting each other, ruthless in their blows and magical attacks. And he was running hard and fast, trying to get away from it all, but everywhere there were swarms of them, until gradually they started coming after him too, and then--

Being shaken. The memory was hesitant to let him go, but at last it did. It was dark, still night; and the wind was howling.

“You were having a nightmare,” Ienzo said. Demyx couldn’t see his expression.

“...Are you okay? What are you doing here?”

“I can’t sleep. And I know that if I’m alone I’ll only torment myself.” It seemed to take a lot to admit this; his whole body sagged.

Demyx sighed. “Come here.” He lifted the covers and Ienzo crawled under. There wasn’t much room on this small bed for them to spread out, but Ienzo didn’t seem worried about space. He rested his head against Demyx’s chest and breathed shakily.

“Your heart’s still racing,” he said. “What were you dreaming about?”

Ienzo was no doubt too brittle to be able to take in the enormity of the truth--not only was Demyx somehow hundreds of years older than him, but was also apparently a war survivor and a Keyblade wielder? Yucky. Demyx pushed those thoughts down, and lied. “I already forgot.”

It rained. They listened to it patter on the old window.

“I thought I could handle it on my own,” Ienzo said. “But I can’t. Doesn’t that make me weak?”

“No. Not at all.”

“I’m sorry I hit you.”

“You were having a flashback. You weren’t in control of yourself.” Demyx could also feel Ienzo’s pulse, still heightened with anxiety. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Alright. That’s alright.”

He held him for a while, stroked his hair, let him breathe. Eventually, Ienzo’s heart rate slowed to normal. His warmth and weight soothed Demyx, brought him down to somewhere very near sleep.

“Will you stay?” he asked Ienzo.

“Yes.”

Morning. It was still downpouring, and the light in the room was a dreary gray. Ienzo, lying against him, was still asleep, momentarily at peace. They could always wake up like this, together.

But Demyx would have to tell him about his past somehow. How could he tell him when he didn’t know much himself? Would Ienzo be mad? Would he consider this lying? He just wanted to be good enough, and strong enough, to be the person Ienzo needed.

Somewhere in this complicated thought process, Ienzo woke up. He lifted his head long enough to see the rain and lay back down. “What a gloomy morning,” he said.

“You sleep okay?”

“Surprisingly, yes. You make a good pillow.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“I’m still so very tired.”

“It’s the weather. And yesterday was a long day.”

“Very, very long.” He sighed. “I don’t think I’d mind if we stayed here for a while.”

“See? You’re getting the hang of it.”

“I’ve always loved the sound of the rain. Especially in the spring. It’s so cleansing. It makes me want to curl up with a cup of tea. Read something halfway decent. I can't remember the last time I read a novel for the pleasure of it.” He yawned. “Maybe later.”

“Maybe.”

He propped himself up on an elbow. “I’m glad you’re here,” Ienzo said. “I can only imagine how… difficult this experience would be otherwise.”

Demyx was thrown momentarily for a loop. “I… I’m glad I’m here too.”

He kissed him. It was a sort of kiss built on comfort and trust, in a way different than any of their previous. The pureness of the vulnerability was overwhelming.

That was the moment Demyx fell for him.

The kiss changed, became heavier, less hesitant. He pulled his fingers through Ienzo’s hair and pressed his lips against the old scars, making peace with them. They were together now, and there was more strength in that than he anticipated. Ienzo shifted his weight, pulling his legs around Demyx’s hips and slipping his hands up under his shirt. His hands were so soft and Demyx’s sides were so sensitive that for a moment he couldn’t breathe. He let him take the shirt off, aware suddenly that the only other piece of clothing he had on was his underwear because that was all he usually wore to sleep.

He slipped off Ienzo’s shirt and for a moment they lay skin to skin, struggling for air. Ienzo traced the innumerable scars on Demyx’s chest, left there by Sora and who knew what else.

“I don’t know how to do this,” Ienzo said, his voice catching slightly.

“It’s okay. I mean…” For some reason he thought he might cry, though he wasn’t upset by any means. “Are you sure you want to try something? We just talked about this two days ago.”

He nodded, and Demyx could tell he meant it from the soft glint in his eye. “Yes. Are you?”

He thought about it for a few seconds. Something vital between them had shifted. No more doubt. “Yeah. I guess I kind of am.”

Ienzo laughed.

“I think… maybe it would be easier if we switched spots?” He was feeling anxious again, though more differently, flightier. “Just because you’re starting from scratch, here.”

“What, are you an expert?” Ienzo asked in a low voice that sent chills through him. “You know I learn fast.”

Demyx couldn’t help but kiss him for that.

“You’re right though,” Ienzo said shakily. “For now.” He lay back against the pillows. It felt slightly less spontaneous than before to get on top of him. Even in the gray light Demyx could see the flush in his skin. But his hands didn’t shake.

“You can relax, okay?” he said. “Do whatever feels natural to you.”

Ienzo helped him take off his thin cotton pants and then reached for Demyx’s underwear.

“Don’t worry about me,” he said quickly.

“I want to.”

And just like that they were naked. Demyx could not get over the strangeness of the moment, but it all felt right . Every nerve was twice as alive. Demyx kissed him. Every feeling and touch eddied into the next, achingly. Demyx was shaking as he touched his skin. Every bit of Ienzo was still more surprising. Soft. Supple. Surprisingly wiry.

Ienzo gripped the hand that was touching him and squeezed it once.

I am completely lost, Demyx thought, but then, do I care? It took a moment to find the nerve to let his hand dip lower and lower still, across the curve of his lip and his inner thigh to his dick.

The response was instantaneous. Ienzo gasped, hardening a little more with the slightest touch. Demyx could feel himself getting even more turned on. As gently as he could, he stroked him a few times. Touching someone else like this had never made him feel so vulnerable before. Ienzo was breathing hard and fast. His hands knotted at the nape of Demyx's neck, catching in his hair.

“Is that good?” Demyx asked. His voice was husky, as though he might cry.

Ienzo kissed him in response. His bucked up against Demyx’s hand, the muscles in his thighs tensing against him. Even though Demyx wasn’t being touched himself, knots of tension began building in the pit of his stomach, almost sweetly painful. Hearing and feeling him react was almost too much. It was more than he thought it would be, more emotional, too.

He began to move a little less hesitantly. Ienzo's grip on him tightened. “I feel…” he said in that same strange voice, but couldn’t complete the sentence.

“Are you going to come? It’s okay. Let it happen.”

He stifled a moan against Demyx’s shoulder and he felt the rush of heat against his thigh. Ienzo’s grip loosened, and when Demyx saw his hands they were trembling. “I…”

“Are you okay?”

He nodded. “I’m… a little dizzy.”

“Just relax.” His own hands were shaking. The want was almost painful, but Ienzo’s comfort was far more important. He seemed almost shocked, a touch shaken. He straightened his legs and then looked down. Demyx lay on his side and pulled the sheet quickly over his own body, but Ienzo had seen.

“You’re still--”

“I’ll live.”

“It doesn’t seem fair.”  He lay on his side. “If you want some privacy, I can step out.”

“Really, Ienzo. I’ll be okay.”

“...Okay.”

Demyx lay down next to him, as much as the small bed would allow.

Ienzo seemed to regain his composure somewhat, relaxing more naturally. “...So this is what people are always obsessing about,” he said. “I finally have some insight.”

“Well--I mean, there are other things people do.”

“No. When people write of longing, is this what people are seeking?”

“You’re a scientist. You can say it. “Orgasm.” You came on my thigh.”

Ienzo wrinkled his nose. “I suppose I did.”

“Did it not live up to your expectations?” he asked, only half joking.

“I didn’t have any expectations,” he said. “Only what I’ve heard.”

Demyx was so shocked he nearly sat up. “You mean you never-- ever --”

Ienzo shrugged. “My life has been peculiar.”

“I can’t believe this. You’ve never masturbated? You’ve never come in your sleep?”

“Believe it or not. These are simply feelings I’ve never had to act on. Consciously or no. Chalk it up to an emotionless puberty.”

“Holy shit. I don’t know if I should feel honored, or if I’ve completely corrupted you.” The talk was distracting Demyx, which was good.

Ienzo laughed. “I don’t feel corrupted. And I should know. No. I feel… clean, if that makes sense. Despite the evidence otherwise.”

It did make sense. Not only was there a sense of release (for him, anyway), but the trust there was stronger, less superficial.

“And yet. If you’d have told me last year that this would have happened, I’d have gone positively feral,” Ienzo said. “This life is so strange.”

“The strangest,” Demyx agreed.

[mybeautifuldecay]

Private Tutor. Chapter Five: Birds Out Of A Cage.

This one definitely broke my 500-1000 word chapter limit but it was needed.

As well as dedicating this fic, as always, to @gotham-ruaidh I have to say a very special thanks to @suhailauniverse who really got my head out of the sand with this chapter. I doubt it would be finished without her assistance. You’re a gem Suh and I love you lots. 

Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. 

Winter had passed them by in a whirlwind. Claire had been away over the Christmas break, Frank had taken her back to Oxford to spend the holiday with his family and when she had returned in early January, Jamie had noticed a dip in her mood. But now, well into April, Claire had finally perked up again.

“I think we should go somewhere new today. What do ye say?”

Brushing her new fringe out of her eyes, Claire looked over at Jamie and nodded. “That sounds really nice, especially on such a lovely day,” she said, a small glance over to the window confirming that the sun was indeed still shining outside. “Where were you thinking?”

“Would ye consider a wander down the Clyde? We could find a nice pub and have some lunch outside and then come back to study some more?”

“I like that idea a lot.” She replied, already packing her belongings back into her bag before she’d even finished speaking. “But only if you let me get us lunch. After all, you’re paying tuition fees and then giving me all of this knowledge for free, which is incredibly kind of you.”

“Ach, ye dinna need to thank me. I like our afternoons together, they keep me sane and up to date on everything I need to remember as well. I’m not a completely selfless creature.”

“I highly doubt that.” Claire returned, glancing across at him as she pulled her cardigan on and stood.

They walked the short journey to the river in a companionable silence, their hands knocking against one another as they walked. A nice breeze drifted alongside them as they passed beside the casino and down towards the Hydro and the science museum. Being late afternoon midweek there weren’t many other people milling about which made the trip even more enjoyable.

“Have ye ever been around the science museum?” Jamie asked to break the silence.

“Once. For a gala.” She replied, immediately ending his line of questioning.

It was clear she meant she’d been here with her husband and Jamie had done a very good job of distracting her from his existence. Their library time was free time. There, Claire wasn’t married to Frank and he was free to create, in his own imagination, a life outside of The MItchell where she wasn’t tied to an arsehole.

As the mast of the distinct ship moored near to the Hydro appeared to their left, Claire swallowed and tapped her fingers nervously against her leather bag.

“I wanted to explain why I was so quiet after I came back from Oxford,” she said quietly, “but I never found the right time really.”

Jamie remained silent, his head turning so that he could catch a glimpse of the side of Claire’s face as they walked onwards. He sensed this wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation but he didn’t want to say anything that might stop her from talking to him.

“The subject of children came up again, with Frank and I.” She said finally, her heart racing as she spoke. “It’s his parents. They always have to stick their noses in, it’s a pain in the arse. We’ve tried before and nothing. I asked him to get tested, but he refuses. So I did it myself one week when he was away on a field trip like he is at the moment.”

“Ach, so that’s why yer about so much these days.” Jamie replied with a smile in his tone. “What does he do, yer husband?”

“He’s a professor. I didn’t tell you because I thought you might have encountered him up at the university and I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear what you might have to say.” Claire sighed.

Eddies gusted around them as they walked in the direction of the nearest pub. A sorrowful silence fell over them as Jamie waited for Claire to continue.

“He’s away this week. Some sort of residential for final year BSc students he said. I can’t  recall where he went the last time, but I couldn’t deal with the not knowing anymore and I took myself to the doctor to get tested. It isn’t me, I’m alright...in that department, but Frank’s too bloody proud to have the test done himself. So we endure the ridiculous dance with his parents over when we’re going to give them grandchildren.”

“So you spent Christmas pretending everything was alright when it clearly wasn't?” Jamie surmised efficiently.

“Something like that yes.” Claire replied her mind replaying the nights she and Frank had spent in his childhood bedroom. The perfunctory sex that she hadn’t wanted but he had. To keep up the pretense that they were still trying to get pregnant when they weren’t. Here in Glasgow, Frank barely touched her, she had her own room and he would only share her bed on certain nights. That’s how she liked it. Their marriage was no longer one of love but of convenience.

“He didn’t hurt ye did he, Claire?” Jamie asked when the lull in conversation between them became heavy.

“Oh, no…” Claire answered quickly, “I’m sorry,” she backtracked, instantly feeling guilty for Jamie’s assumptions, “I shouldn’t be putting all of this nonsense onto you like this.”

“Dinna be so daft, Claire. I’m yer friend, aren’t I? That’s what I’m here for - for you to offload onto - anytime.”

Sitting on a bench outside in the beer garden, Claire smiled shyly as Jamie passed her the drinks and food menu.

“Thank you, Jamie, truly. I don’t think I’ve ever really had a proper friend. It’s difficult to know what I should talk about, and what I should keep to myself.”

“Aye, I ken that well, lass. Yer like a bird set free of her gilded cage, aye? It’s easy to be brave and offload yer troubles when you’ve always had the luxury of doing so wi’out fear. But I’m glad ye consider me your confidant. You don’t ever have to tell me anything ye dinna want to, you know. But I willna break yer trust. Whatever you tell me I’ll keep to myself.” He said, thinking about Claire’s earlier comment about Frank’s whereabouts this week. He was glad that she had some time by herself but he knew a couple of third year history majors and he was fairly confident that there was no field trip. Interested piqued by the fact, Jamie stored that little tidbit away to think about later.

"And what about you?" She asked suddenly, pulling him out of his reverie. He'd wanted nothing more in that moment than to erase that look of faux bravado on her face. To reach across the divide between them and take her hand in his.

"Och, I havena much happening as ye," he said sheepishly. But if a moment was what she needed, a moment of honesty, then a moment is what he'd give her. “No’ so much now I’m settled. But I ken what it feels like to be trapped by yer duties.” He continued, thinking of Lallybroch, his home, for the first time in a long while.

Claire saw the shadow of something altogether not pleasant pass across Jamie’s face before he returned the easy smile he seemed to wear consistently. He seemed adept at keeping his feelings and emotions well hidden, as opposed to her. Frank always told her she had a glass face, one easily readable by those around her, and it had always irked her.

“I had an older brother, Claire. His name was Willie. He was my idol. He was the one who was supposed to take over our family business. He was all ready to do it, too. But he was diagnosed with leukemia just before his eighteenth birthday. I was thirteen at the time. Jenny, my elder sister was fifteen and Rabbie only five. We sat with him through the chemotherapy - that’s where I got my first taste of hospital life,” he went on to say, the interest alive even though the sorrow of the reason for him finding himself amidst the doctors and nurses was plain to see, “I dinna think I’ve cried so much before or since. Watching him battle on like that for months on end.”

“Christ, Jamie, that must have been horrific.”

“Aye, it was,” he said sadly, “three years of his life where he should have been learning the business, living as a young man and going out wi’ lassies and such. But instead he was chained to a hospital bed being pumped full of poison.”

“I can’t imagine that.” Claire replied. Having no siblings herself, she had no prior knowledge of what it might be like to have a close relative battle with such an unstoppable illness.

“I watched him die. I’ve never felt so distraught in all my life. I was sixteen when he finally lost his battle with cancer. We’d all just celebrated his twenty-first birthday but his body couldn’t take it anymore.”

“And then it was just a given that you’d take on the business?” Claire asked as she wiped away the tears that had gathered in her eyes.

“Aye, well, no’ straight away but when I got to eighteen, my da sat me down and told me it’s what he had planned. He and mam had settled it in the will that Lallybroch and the farm should come to me and for a time I tried to be that person. I wanted to make Willie proud of me, ye ken?”

She nodded, the ache to reach out and touch him, hug him, overwhelming her - but she kept her hands to herself for the moment.

“Suffice to say it didna last long.”

“How did you break the news to your family?” Claire questioned, her woes about her own situation dissipating as she focused solely on Jamie and his history.

“I just sat them all down together one night. I’d fashed about it for months. Waking up at silly times to milk the cows and move all of the animals around wi’ this horrible weight on my shoulders, bearing down on me until I just couldna take it anymore. Mam cried. Jenny - weel if ye ever meet her ye’ll ken the make up of the lass - didna say much at all. My da, he understood, but it took him a while to actually accept my choice. I’d been in Glasgow for two months studying when he came to see me. He broke down. I think he thought it was his fault as he’d pushed the farm on me wi’out really asking whether it was something I truly wanted.”

“It sounds like you have a lovely family, Jamie, even if they’re a little presumptuous at times. It makes me miss my parents.”

“What happened to them?” Jamie asked quietly.

“Maybe another day, yes? It’s still hard for me to talk about...but I want to tell you.”

“Dinna fash,” Jamie said his pinkie finger tapping gently against Claire's, “I’m here for ye anytime, Claire. Yes?”

“Yes.” She returned, drawing her bottom lip into her mouth as her cheeks pinked and she smiled softly. “And the same applies to you. Friends?” Claire said holding out her hand as she winked cheekily.

“Friends.” Jamie accepted, taking her hand and squeezing it softly.

[cosmicrecluse]

Heres the full memoir minus the boring academic part at the end

A Stand Taken by People No Taller Than 5 Feet

The trees were tall back then, much taller than they are now. Everything was bigger when I was that age. The year of Adventure Camp, the first advanced camp I’d been able to attend since I’d turned ten, was to be my best yet. I had grown to the age where I no longer experienced the homesickness that would strike younger children midweek. Camp had finally become the ultimate escapism from all the hardships of home.

This particular camp appeared as a traditional one, one that allowed children to hike and explore nature while also learning from it. Unfortunately, this was not what we got. The program had no hiking aside from following the path to and from the mess hall, no exploring aside from the occasional kid who would wander off path only to be dragged back, no “adventure” of any kind really.

The closest we ever got to nature were the few nights we built a fire and cooked a meal over it, a time when campers were finally set loose into the woods with minimal supervision to bring back fuel for our makeshift stove. The meal was never good, in all honesty, but watching the flames lick at the meats and vegetables as the sun slowly set made something in me need- no, require- to be freer.

One of the days, after the food was gone and our fire cooled, my need for real adventure had grown into a roaring hunger. Daylight had not yet fully disappeared but twilight made the sun appear red, the forest past our cabins somehow more wild. It was everything I’d wanted from the forest.

“Can I draw with that?” I asked one of our counselors, Scout, as I pointed to the blackened wood left in our firepit. Scout believed it to be an innocent request, but if she’d been able to see no more than half an hour into the future she most certainly would not have let me touch the scorched tinder.

“Of course, just don’t eat it, kiddo,” She allows with a joke, unaware of what she’d set into motion. With charcoal in hand, I quickly ran off to set to work.

Intricate and stylized, the markings I’d drawn onto my skin created a look similar to the ones I’d seen my own mother smear onto my brother and me during Halloween. They coated my arms and face, lines running to a central point at my eyes. I’d planned on running into the woods with what I thought was camouflage, I would hide within the thickening shadows and go on a real adventure.

More children gathered around me, gawking at the decorations I’d drawn. They wanted some of their own, wanted to join me. And so, more charcoal was harvested and more campers gained painted faces.

Once done, we believed we needed weapons in order to defend ourselves from the oh so dangerous Ohio wildlife. Sticks from our surroundings kindly offered themselves to us and were easily sharpened against concrete pathways and rocks. These, too, were covered with markings from our charcoal.

Our plot had gone unnoticed to the counselors, who must have thought it’d been nothing more than a game, something we were doing to pass the time before bed. Though, they had a surprise of their own for us.

“Come on adventurers, we’ve got something to tell you all!” Another counselor gathers us together, her voice chipper. This one was named Ghost, as she was our resident spook and monster expert.

The 20 or so of us form a circle, our bright, big eyes looking up at the people we’d known as adults at the time. Looking back, they were barely older than I am today. They towered over many of us, and we were to follow their commands to the T.

But now we’d grown restless of being followers, we were meant to be explorers and trailblazers, not sit like ladies. The group already began to shift where they stood, the tension thick enough to cut for us but seemingly invisible to our counselors.

“The popstar camp is coming for a dance party in a few minutes! So you guys should all wash your faces off and get ready!” Ghost smiled at all of us and we simply stared back. No one moves. The counselor’s glance at each other uncomfortably.

“Kids, Ghost gave you something to do,” The head counselor, Tiger, prompts. We stay in our places.

We were adventurers, not dancers, and after three days of being subjected to dull lectures and zero fun, we’d had enough. The campers would no longer follow orders from them.

“Put them in the cabin,” I said, having become a sort of leader to the band of girls. It was a simple request that the campers eagerly fulfilled. Three college-age adults stood no chance against over a dozen preteens who were hungry as rabid wolves for a taste of freedom.

The door is slammed shut after the three adults were stuffed into their shared cabin. Erin, a friend I’d made at the start of the week, forms a small team of campers who begin stacking the rocks we’d used to contain our fire to create a barricade.

No longer did we want to escape into the woods, our plans had changed with only a few words. Now was the time to liberate ourselves, at least in my head. A ten-year-old cannot be trusted to understand the world, but I knew that I wanted to own our campsite one way or another.

I take my place atop a small rock, lifting my barely sharpened stick above my head and shouting to my campers. Those not keeping our would-be counselor’s trapped hurry around me. They shout and call, beating their own play spears against the dirt in a chaotic sign of unity.

“What now?” a voice calls over the crowd, silencing the uproar. The voice belonged to Emily, the oldest of our campers. She was not one I’d befriended, but she was highly respected for her age of twelve, compared to our tens and elevens. The campers turned to me once again for orders.

“We’re gonna get the popstar girls and make sure they never come back here again,” I reply, a proud smile upon my face and my dinky spear pointed at the path the other camp would have to take. The suggestion is met with more animalistic howls and bellows, followed by pounding feet as the girls rush to the underbrush. I take a seat on my rock, soaking in the summer air thick violent anticipation.

Only a few minutes later, the path erupted in screaming and pounding feet. The popstar camp arrived, the ambush had begun. I take up my stick and join my campers in their chase. The other two counselors that’d arrived with this new group were promptly shoved into a cabin of their own, a new barricade beginning to be constructed to trap them as well.

As the sounds of screaming children, pounding fists against securely sealed doors, and the howling laughter of my newly feral campers filled the humid air, a thought entered my head. A simple thought, one that I, in my juvenile and power-mad state, believed to be just. In order to prevent another forced dance party, the droll days that had filled what was meant to be an adventurous week, the iron control of our counselors, a sacrifice had to be made.

I, being a child with an odd set of parents, had grown up learning of my Aztec ancestors. I had become used to the idea of killing a member of society to a bloodthirsty god in order to bring about peace.

With this knowledge, misinterpreted as it was, I called my campers to me once more. I reminded them of the tale of the Wumpus, a made of creature Ghost had sung a song about. It was a horrible beast that would snatch any child that wandered off path and steal their hair to replace the tail that it had lost.

Given that we were all young, stupid, and likely on the biggest adrenaline rushes of our short lives, multiple girls leaped at the chance to be made a sacrifice. Brianna, a girl who’d always been eager to be the first to any activity was quickly chosen.

A scarf was taken from a tent, rocks were gathered, and the girl tied to a small tree. While the pop star campers huddled together inside the community cabin that was meant to be a dance hall, we began singing the Wumpus Song Ghost had taught us in broken and ugly tones. As we did this, we struck the rocks together in an attempt to cause sparks as we’d seen our counselors do to light our cooking fire.

However, again, we were stupid and overly excited children, we did not know that the adults had used flint and steel, nor did we realize that the Wumpus was not real. But we continued on regardless; until a storm of adults from every camp arrived. Our rebellion, as I’ve come to call it, was squashed by threats of calling our parents.