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#i guess this counts a joke by the legal definition
thugpugs4lrh · 1 month
Note
you should do johnnie x fem!reader but she has a christina piercing
Call Me
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*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*
Summary: A post-breakup piercing turns into something much more
Pairing: Body piercer!Johnnie x feminine reader
Warnings: NSFW content, dirty talk, fingering (f), genital piercing
Word Count: 1k
A/N: Thank you for the request! I didn't write a ton of super in-depth smut because of legality (even though this is au and a fanfic, i try to keep it semi appropriate <3), but if you'd like a part 2, send it in my inbox!!
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*
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You had never been a wild girl. Down to have fun? Sure. But never wild. All of that changed today, though, as you walked into your local tattoo and piercing parlor. Having recently gone through a rather messy breakup, you decided the best way to find yourself again was to reclaim your own body. A tattoo had seemed a bit too permanent, whereas ear and nose piercings had seemed too basic. After a bit of research, you had decided on a Christina piercing. Was it a bit out there? Definitely. Then again, no one had to know about it except you and your sexual partners down the line. 
You signed your name in at the front desk, feeling so thankful you didn’t have to put down what kind of piercing you wanted. As excited as you were, that would be too embarrassing for you. You waited, anxiously tapping your leg until a man came from the back and called your name. 
“Y/N?” 
You stood up, meeting him at the door to the back in quick strides. “I’m right here.”
“I’m Johnnie. I’ll be your piercer today. Come on back.” the man nodded, leading you into the studio. 
Whatever you had done to piss off the universe, you regretted it. Not only were you about to have a man pierce your clit, he was hot too. He had the classic emo style that you hadn’t seen anyone in real life wear since like 2008, and tattoos and piercings littered his own skin. You couldn’t help but to stare at his spider bites, wondering what it would feel like to kiss and tug on them. 
“My eyes are up here.” Johnnie joked, leading you into a private room and closing the door. 
‘Fuck, Y/N. Get it together.’ You thought, forcing your eyes to roam up Johnnie’s face to meet his own. That was a mistake, though, because your piercer had the iciest, most gorgeous blue eyes you had ever seen, rimmed with dark eyeliner that only added to his good looks and complemented his long, black hair. 
“Sorry, I’m a little anxious.” You mumbled, cheeks burning. 
“I understand,” Johnnie smiled kindly. “So, what piercing were you looking to get today?”
“I, um…” You started, but the words got lost in your throat. 
“Let me guess. Nips?” he chuckled. 
You shook your head, embarrassingly flustered and Johnnie’s eyes widened with realization. 
“I see. Well, a Christina is an anatomy based piercing, so I’ll have to assess before I pierce. Is that okay?” he asked, keeping a cool, professional tone. 
You nodded, your cheeks so beyond red both from the conversation and because of how hot Johnnie was. You honestly wished that this was another setting, because you knew he had to remain professional, no matter how badly he or you wanted it. Johnnie politely turned his back while you shimmied out of your pants, knowing there was no going back now. An unfamiliar man was about to see your whole pussy in bright, LED lights and you honestly wished you were more uncomfortable with it. 
Once he had gotten confirmation from you, Johnnie turned around, pulling some black, latex gloves onto his hands. “I’m going to touch you now, okay?”
He moved to spread your legs, slowly caressing your inner thighs gently. As Johnnie moved towards your slit, you prayed he wouldn’t notice the dampness that had pooled between your thighs. His gracefully artistic fingers neared your clit and you couldn’t help but to let out a tiny moan at how great it felt. You hadn’t gotten laid in over a month, and you were desperate for an orgasm that wasn’t the product of your hand or battery operated ‘friends’. If Johnnie noticed, he was too polite to say anything. He plucked a flashlight from the medical cart beside him and examined you a bit more. You couldn’t help but to notice the way his fingers lingered on your clit for a moment longer than they should have as you let out another moan. 
“You like that?” he chuckled, seeming to be joking. 
You didn’t know what possessed you to do it, but you nodded softly, whispering out a “yes.”
Johnnie hummed, coming around the side of the table and whispering in your ear, his breath hot on your neck. “Tell me, Y/N, are you single? Does your boyfriend know you’re trying to get off on my fingers?”
You blushed, trying to arch into his touch. “I’m single.” You grunted out against the arousal. 
“Thought so,” he smirked. “Better for me.”
Johnnie turned his back to you as he prepped the needle and jewelry, almost in a teasing way. You heard the plastic opening and couldn’t help but to think about the way that would be the sound of Johnnie opening a condom, prepping himself to go inside you. God, you needed to get it together. 
“Are you ready?” he asked you, spreading your legs as he held the needle. 
You nodded, eager to see how Johnnie would do this and how it would look. “I am.”
“Deep breath. 1, 2, 3,” Johnnie inserted the needle, quickly and expertly giving you the Christina piercing you had been looking forward to. “Good girl,” he was practically moaning himself. He quickly cleaned you up, caressing your pussy gently and with loving care. “Took that like a fuckin’ champ.”
You blushed at his praise, your clit throbbing both from the pain and from the arousal. “Thank you.”
Johnnie walked you out of the room and to the front counter for you to pay. You were rather disappointed when he disappeared into the back again as you handed the cash for your piercing to the girl working the front desk. Just as you were about to leave, though, Johnnie opened the door and slid a card across the counter to you. 
“Aftercare instructions.” he winked. 
You flipped the card over as you walked out of the building, only to see a phone number scribbled in messy, black ink on the back with a ‘;)’ and a heart. Somehow, you’d gone in for a piercing, and come out with both a piercing and the desire for a fuck buddy. 
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noodyl-blasstal · 4 months
Text
Pretty huge Doughnuts
The word count's droppin', but I'm not stoppin' - @taznovembercelebration day 15. Prompt "baby"
Read below or on Ao3. Missed yesterday's catch it here.
-
“You’re doing what now?”
“Planning Lup a baby shower.”
“Lup’s pregnant?” Barry’s voice is doing something high pitched and weird and Taako’s unsure exactly what the fuck is going on, but someone’s forgotten they have like 8 PhDs.
“Wanna think that through, Barold? Do you think that maybe she might have told you if she’d cracked that one.”
Barry looks less panicked. “Yeah… fair. Uh.”
“Anyway.” Taako ploughs on valiantly, he’ll pull this one out at a later date, once Barold thinks he’s forgotten. “I’m planning a baby shower for her.”
“If she’s not pregnant…” Barry starts.
“Which she isn’t.” Taako adds, helpfully.
“Yeah. Uh. Which she isn’t.” Barry looks pale still, poor, sweet idiot. “... then why are you throwing her a baby shower?”
“It took her more than nine months to birth the thesis” Taako says, he shrugs because it’s obvious, obviously. He doesn't know why literally no one so far has understood. They're definitely the problem.
Barry’s still scrunkling his face up like Taako's being irrational. The joke's on him because Taako's never irrational.
“She’s had a tonne of appointments.”
“Uh huh.”
"She brought new life into the world."
"The necromancy thing isn't part of the main thesis after, you know, the legal issues."
“I meant the concepts, not the zombie. Anyway the university are cowards for not embracing him." Before they get into the ethics of free education after reanimation Taako diverts Barry again. "She had to do that scan.”
“What scan? Wait, Taako, do you mean the MRIs she did for the data collection?”
“Now you get it.”
“I…”
“Cha’boy found this banner.” Taako unfurls it dramatically and holds it up, it’s gold and spangly and far too much, which is, of course, the perfect amount.
“Congratulations, it’s a…” Reads Barry.
“PhD!” Taako replies. “I’m gonna write it in and add flames. It’ll be great.”
“She’ll love the flames.” Says Barry, probably trying to tactfully dissuade Taako from the rest. Optimistic fool.
“I made a game for us where we have to guess the circumference of her thesis. There's prizes.”
“Is the thesis measurement bound or unbound?” Asks Barry far too fast. Oooooh, Taako has him on board now. Suddenly he loves BaPhD showers.
“No can do, Bluejeans, you wouldn’t want to cheat, would you? Wouldn’t want to ruin Lup’s special day by making it all about winning?”
“No.” Says Barry, unconvincingly.
“No cheating, Barold!”
Barry doesn’t say anything. Taako never should have taken Bluejeans under his wing, he’s created a monster.
“What’s a baby snack?”
"Mush?"
"No, like, for this."
“Are you asking what a baby thesis would eat?” Barry sounds more delighted by the concept than he should be.
“Baby researchers, I assume.” Chews them up, spits them out, not that Taako’s bitter. He’s fine. He can come back any time. Any time the police get round to officially clearing him. Not that it’s a problem, he’s not bothered about his degree anyway. He’s peachy. It’s not weird to see Lup get her doctorate before him when they were supposed to do it together.
Barry seems to realise he’s triggered some kind of horror even though Taako's definitely doing an incredibly normal face. He's going to try sand be nice about it.
“What are PhD snacks?” He asks before Barry can say anything kind.
“Pretty huge doughnuts.” Barry replies without hesitation. Taako knew there was a reason he kept him around.
Taako makes a note in his phone. Giant doughnuts mean giant frying, mean big oil, mean big pan.
“Why’re we making big doughnuts?” Kravitz asks, cracking the door to his room.
Of course it was food discussion that summoned him from his regimented work schedule (ignoring what he needed to do because he got distracted by other things and then panic typing up everything for his deadline.) It bodes well for Taako’s ongoing wooing, the stuff about hearts and stomachs was true probably, but Taako was also hoping to make his way to Kravitz’s di…
“Taako’s throwing Lup a surprise baby shower.” Barry cuts through Taako’s wandering thoughts. “We’re planning the menu.”
“Oh.” Says Kravitz. “For her PhD? Neat!”
-
Hey, hey, enjoyed that? Find the next prompt here!
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saikokirakira · 9 months
Text
Part 2 of 2: Pagtingin (Feelings) [Steve Harrington x Reader]
a/n: hello. it me. i definitely did not forget to post part two. if you would believe it, i was actually getting sick every week the past month because of the insane hours and workload of my new job. so, umm, probably not lasting long there... i wanna be pretty again and lose all the stress hives all over my body.
summary: based on this blurb on a hanahaki au/flayed!reader
word count: 12k words (big boi over here; i definitely bullied our girl throughout this entire chapter)
warning: barely proofread, only edited twice; no use of y/n; steve is an oblivious himbo (but i'll excuse it because he was the ultimate bbg in s3); ANGST TRAIN, hurt no comfort; moms of hawkins summer '85 (i have 911 on standby); billy "walking red flag" hargrove; unrequited feelings / pining; minor violence; body horror (it's hanahaki, what'd you expect?); writer's torture of a self-insert character; stranger things season 3 canon, but Alexei lives fyuck canon actually; metal goodboi cameo
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You despised summer. You didn’t used to hate summer, but working in the summer heat when your recently recurring childhood asthma gets triggered by intense heat wasn’t the best option for you. While you couldn’t pass off as a lifeguard at the Hawkins Community Pool, your neighbour and acquaintance, Heather Holloway, pulled some strings to have you manning the snack bar.
It wasn’t ideal, but it certainly opened up the opportunity to listen in to a lot of gossip all around town. Not your favourite pastime, yet Heather enjoyed the very juicy ones, something you noticed she most likely inherited from her father, the chief editor for the town’s paper. Every time her shift ended, so did yours and either you share interesting stories of the day while you drive home or to the newly opened Starcourt Mall.
“Ew, those women are either married or divorced,” your nose wrinkled in disgust at Heather’s favourite gossip topic, Hawkins group of moms. Specifically, their scheduled visits to the pool whenever Billy Hargrove would be on duty as lifeguard.
“He likes the attention, I guess,” Heather shrugged, “and the moms get to ogle eye candy.”
“Still a minor, Heather.”
“Uh-uh, he turned 18 a few months back,” Heather argued, though the distaste was apparent on her face. “The term is barely legal.” Then she suddenly giggled. “I’m still calling the police when they make a direct move,” she half-joked. “I know they call me a bitch behind my back.”
“You’re a menace.”
“And you’re a sissy,” Heather shot back. “When are you going to ask Steve Harrington ou— JESUS!” She clung at the grab handle when your foot landed too much on the gas pedal. “No need to take me with you to hell just because you can’t get a date.” Then with a cheeky grin, she added, “I heard Steve can’t get a date either, and he talks up anyone at that ice cream place.”
You slammed the brakes. “That’s it!” you exclaimed. “You’re walking the rest of the way to Starcourt!” The only reply you had was Heather’s maniacal giggles at getting you so riled up.
You and Heather parted ways when you arrived at Starcourt after telling you that she’d be getting a ride home with her date. You waved her off and headed to Scoop’s Ahoy. A group of girls were giggling as they were leaving when you got there. You also noticed the whiteboard that Robin, Steve’s co-worker, held up, adding another tally on the “You suck” scoreboard.
“See what I have to deal with?” Steve immediately ranted, jerking a finger at Robin’s direction. “If you worked with me, I don’t have to be subjected with workplace abuse.”
You and Robin snorted in sync. “You poor baby,” you cooed teasingly while pinching Steve’s cheek. “How can I ever live without the longer shifts, ridiculous uniform, and being your wingman?” You earned another laugh from Robin while Steve scoffed before shooting you a pout.
“Well, you certainly miss me since you constantly visit as soon as your shift ends,” Steve shot back.
“Sure, I’m definitely not here as Heather’s chauffer to her movie date,” you said, “or just hanging out at the comic book store.”
“You want me to come wi—?”
“Bye, Robin!” you ignored his offer yet still blowing Steve a raspberry to which he rolled his eyes at. Exiting the ice cream shop, you made you way to the pharmacy first before the comic book store. It was mostly empty when you got there, so it was a breeze in getting your prescription inhaler.
It’s been forever since you had asthma, the last one during your elementary days. Your wheezing fits had only come back since that occurrence in those tunnels that you still see in your nightmares. However, after the countless tests and screening from military scientists, they cleared it to just “your body shifting from all the trauma.”
You’d think after opening gates to other dimensions with monsters, they’d be able to create a cure for asthma.
The thought was highly amusing to you that you almost missed the fiery redhead that just entered the pharmacy. Your eyes watched Max Mayfield carefully as she walked through the aisles with her head low, trying to be inconspicuous. Grabbing your bag of prescription, you slowly followed where Max wandered off, which happened to be a shelf of bandages.
You almost let it go, knowing that her skateboard hobby always led her to a number of scrapes and bruises. But when she reached for the bandage wrap on the high shelf, her shirt sleeve revealed a hand-shaped mark wrapped around her pale wrist. Trying to be nonchalant as possible, you approached her and grabbed the bandage for her, ignoring how Max quickly put her arm down and tugged at her sleeve.
“Skateboarding mishap again, red?”
Max’s signature cocky smirk covered the surprise on her face. “It’s one of my better falls,” she said. Then her eyes wandered to the prescription bag in my hand. “Still have those? They said you’d be better in a couple of weeks since the incident.”
“Well, I didn’t, so here I am,” you shrugged. “Hey, listen, I’m heading out to the comic book store if you want to tag along. My treat.”
Once you were at the community pool. Though you resorted to buying your carefully as she skimmed through the new arrival stack. You didn’t really have anything worth buying since most of the comics you read are from Dustin’s collection that he recommends and lends to you every other week. Sometimes you get the appeal, sometimes you didn’t. Still, it was a great way to pass the time when things are slow from working the snack bar at the comic book store if you want to tag along. My treat.”
Maybe you should’ve offered to buy Max a cone from Scoops Ahoy instead.
“You got any good recommendations?” you randomly asked the guy who just walked in. You seem to have caught him off-guard, the look of surprise that you were talking to him. “Munson, right?”
“Yeah, Eddie,” he said after a brief pause. “Didn’t think you’d be the type to read comics.”
You thought so too. But you also didn’t think that monsters that live in an alternate dimension exist.
You shrugged. “I read almost anything to pass the time,” you said. “Henderson lends me a lot of X-men.”
Eddie was about to reply when Max approached you with two Wonder Woman comics. “I can pay for the other one,” she offered.
You scoffed lightly and ruffled the top of her head. “Don’t be ridiculous,” you said. “Didn’t I say it was my treat?” Before she could argue, you snatched both copies from her hand and headed to the counter with her trailing behind you. “See you around, Munson.”
You and Max wandered aimlessly around the mall. You offered to go watch whatever movie was in the cinema, but Max turned you down, saying that she had plans with the party later that week once their campaign planning was through. After you ran out of things to do, you offered to drive her home, which she sheepishly accepted.
Before you could even pull out the parking area, Max said, “I know you saw the bruise. You didn’t have to do all that to make me feel better.”
A surprised smile tugged at your lips, impressed on how quickly she caught up on your intentions. “I don’t really have any sisters to dote on,” you said, “so it isn’t entirely on pity. I know you can stand up for yourself, red.” You continued, “But promise me one thing?”
Max nodded.
“You tell me when anything gets too much, okay?” You held her hand to show your support. “I’m always going to be here for you.” Trying to lighten up the mood, you added, “Billy is a prick anyway.” Then you pulled the car into drive.
“He has it worse than me.”
You tried to hold in your composure, but you couldn’t help your eyebrows rising up at the unexpected information. You always suspected something going on with Billy. No one suddenly becomes an asshole overnight. That you knew from being friends for a long time with Steve. Aside from the horrible friends he used to have, Steve grew up with his parents barely around, and even if they were, his father was always either hard on him or emotionally absent.
“Well, it doesn’t give him the right to take it out on you.”
“I know.”
Later that week, you were at your usual spot at the snack booth. The heat was especially brutal that day at it almost felt that your lungs were constricting every time you tried to breathe out. Not even ice water seemed to help, and when the thin clouds cleared, the blaring sunlight only made it worse, even though you were under the shade of the booth.
“Hey, watch the stand for me?” you said to your co-worker who mostly just tried to look busy by restacking cans of soda and rearranging the chips as a way to avoid kids yelling out their orders. He sighed but nodded, getting up to man the counter. On your way out of the booth, you pulled out your inhaler out of your backpack and staggered into the searing sunlight to make your way to Heather.
As you took a blip of your inhaler, you didn’t notice the person near you and collided into them, sending your inhaler flying. “Shit,” you muttered, picking up the plastic case. “Sorry about that.” You looked up and paled upon the realisation that you bumped into Billy Hargrove.
Billy didn’t seem to mind and just grunted before brushing past you. If anything, he looked as disoriented as you, dishevelled and profusely sweating. He had an obvious stumble to his step on his way to the locker room to what you assumed was to get ready for his shift.
You had half a mind to approach him when you heard “Hey! No dunking, Curtis!” from the pool area. You were suddenly reminded of your current task and shrugged off the Billy’s concerning state. For all you know, he was still probably drunk from whatever party he was at last night. It was summer break after all.
You carefully avoided being splashed near the poolside as you circled over to where Heather was stationed at the lifeguard post. Unfortunately, you almost tripped from another dizzy spell again and collided with another person. Just your luck.
“Oh, dear,” a woman this time voiced her concern. “Are you okay, hon? Maybe you should stay out of the heat.”
You steadied yourself and stared into the eyes of Karen Wheeler. “I’m okay, Mrs. Wheeler,” you wheezed. “Sorry ‘bout that.”
“Drink some water!” Mrs. Wheeler called out before walking off.
Finally, you were able to tell Heather that you were cutting your shift short and that you couldn’t drive her to her dad’s office as you agreed on earlier that day. She waved you off and told you to drive carefully, assuring you that she could always call her mom to pick her up later.
On your way out, you noticed Mrs. Wheeler coming out of the locker room looking distressed and teary-eyed. She didn’t seem to notice you staring at her as she made her way back to the pool area. A few moments later, Billy came out of the same room, still looking as physically uncomfortable as before.
For the past weeks of working at the pool, it was no secret that one of Billy’s favourite moms was Mrs. Wheeler. But was there really some illicit affair between them? You probably wouldn’t put it past Billy, but the woman had three kids, for goodness’ sakes. You made a mental note to ask Heather what she knew about it tomorrow.
After a gruelling half hour drive while cranking your A/C up to full blast, you finally got home. You barely got a mouthful of ice water when your door rang. You wondered who it could be when the neighbours knew that you and your parents were usually at work during the entire day.
“Hey, can you drive us to Starcourt?”
You stared into the wild grins of El and Max, standing excitedly on your doorstep. Fifteen minutes later, you were back in your car, playing chauffeur for the two girls giggling from the backseat of your car.
“I’m telling you, El, boyfriends lie,” Max insisted. She poked you. “Tell her.”
You chuckled dismissively at their tween antics. “I wouldn’t know.”
Both El and Max paused and focused their attention on you.
“You haven’t dated anyone?”
“I’ve been on dates,” you clarified, “but I never really dated anyone.”
“Why?” El asked. It was more inquisitive than mocking or accusatory. She was very curious, that one.
“Because she has the biggest crush on Steve.”
“Oh, my God!” you exclaimed. “Does everyone just know about that?”
“Well, anyone with eyes, yeah,” Max said, rolling her eyes for good measure. “The only reason why he hasn’t caught up is because boys are dumb.”
That made you laugh out loud despite the discomfort in your ribs.
When you arrived at the mall, you expected to have them run off to who knows where while you hung out at the waiting area, taking advantage of the air conditioning, but those two dragged you to every clothing outlet at the mall. You tried to not exert yourself, but it was hard not to match their energy when they were clearly having so much fun. It was even so endearing to see El emerging from her shell, trying out outfits that she genuinely liked and not those lumberjack fits that Chief Hopper had her on all the time.
By the third store, you insisted to sit that one out and merely watch them try on a bunch of different hats. You giggled at them posing at the mirror as if they were at a fashion show. However, you only had a moment of peace before Max approached you with a sundress that looked way too close to your size.
“No,” you stood your ground.
“Yes.”
“No!”
“Yes, then we’re going to Scoops Ahoy to get cones after this.”
“Ask Steve out on a date,” El urged, smiling encouragingly.
“What happened to ‘boys are dumb?’” you said, raising your brow.
“He’s not going to ask you out first, so you will do it for him!” Max said. She and El both grabbed each of your arm and pulled you to your feet and into the dressing room then tossing in the dress and pulling the curtain shut.
You stared at yourself in the mirror and the dress you held in front of you. You hated to admit it, but it was a pretty dress. Even if you couldn’t score a date with Steve, at least you had a great addition to your wardrobe. With that positive thought in mind, you pulled your shirt over your head and hung it on one of the clothing hooks.
You carefully pulled down the zipper on the dress when you noticed something odd on your reflection. Peering closer on the mirror, you stared at your ribs, noticing the almost black veins that almost seemed to be moving underneath the skin. What the…
“Are you done?!” Max called out from behind the curtain.
You snapped out of it and quickly pulled on the dress. All your initial worries faded once you saw yourself in the mirror. For good measure, you pulled your hair out of your scrunchie and let your tresses fall out in waves over your shoulder.
“Wow,” El and Max chorused.
You didn’t even notice them pulling the curtain open.
When you made your way to Scoops Ahoy, Max and El apparently had already made plans that you don’t come in with them. “Let it be a surprise,” Max had said. It was almost ridiculous that you were letting 14-year-olds dictate you on how to get a date from your crush.
“Okay, here you go, you got a strawberry and then a vanilla with sprinkles, extra whipped cream.” Steve paused and looked at the two girls suspiciously, especially at El. “Wait a second,” he thought out loud, “are you even supposed to be here?”
The two girls giggled, and El said, “A pretty girl drove us here.”
The words ‘pretty’ and ‘girl’ caught Steve’s attention. Predictable. “Yeah?” he grinned, leaning forward as if asking for more details. “She still with you?”
“You know her, silly,” Max giggled before running off with El. On their way out, they both flashed you a thumbs up and mouthed, “good luck.”
You stepped inside Scoops Ahoy with a newfound confidence. It was definitely the dress, and you hope it paid off. When Steve caught sight of you, his eyes brightened up and flashed you his charming smile.
“Hey, stranger,” Steve greeted. “I see the girls made you their babysitter and chauffer.”
You tried not to let your smile falter when you didn’t get the reaction you hoped. You laughed, trying not to give off the fact that your confidence was quickly crumbling. “Yeah,” you said, “my shift ended early at the pool.”
“That’s great!” Steve cheered. “Listen, Dustin just caught Russians on his new radio thing, and we’re trying to translate it. Spy shit and all.”
You blinked. “Dustin’s back?”
“Yeah,” Steve nodded animatedly, “he’s at back with Robin translating the tape. Well, mostly Robin. Didn’t even know she’s amazing at languages.” He continued, keeping his excited energy, “She already knocked down a couple phrases. Isn’t that cool?”
Then it clicked.
Steve liked Robin.
Too late again.
“Listen, we can use your help because there’s this music at the end that I couldn’t remember where it came from,” Steve said. “Robin and Dustin say it’s stupid, but you can back me—”
“Um,” you breathed out. You cleared your throat, wondering why you started to get out of breath again. “I still have to drive the girls home before dark,” you said, gently turning him down.
“Oh.”
“Um, call me if you find something cool?” You didn’t wait for him to reply and turned your back on him. As soon as you left Scoops Ahoy, you pulled your inhaler out your pocket and took a blip, but it seemed to only make your lungs angrier and cramp even more.
As agreed upon earlier, you found the girls at the main doors of the mall, but they were in a heated conversation with Mike and the rest of his party. You sighed and quickly approached them before it turned into a full argument.
“I dump your ass!” El declared, making you stop in your steps. Lucas and Max were flabbergasted at the outburst, except Max looked somewhat proud. Mike just looked lost and was clearly at a loss for words. Will just looked uncomfortable enough to be witnessing the entire thing.
“Okay, that’s enough,” you interfered. “We’re leaving, come on.” You looked at Will who seemed to be the most aware among the boys at the moment. “You guys need a ride?”
He shook his head.
“You take care, okay?”
Will nodded.
The walk to your car between you and the girls was quiet. Though Max decided to break the silence when you pulled out of the mall compound. “What happened?” she asked.
You simply shrugged, ignoring the burning in your ribs from the simple motion. “Boys are dumb.” Then the car ride was silent again.
Later that evening, you laid in your bathtub in cold water, finally relaxing when you can breathe easily again. The summer heat fatigue really got you today, you thought. Suddenly remembering what you saw in the fitting room, you looked at your ribs again and was relieved when all you saw was nothing but your usual skin.
You were pulled back to your thoughts and remembered the beautiful sundress that was now laid discarded on the bathroom floor. You groaned at the memory of what just occurred this afternoon. You sighed and slid down to submerge the rest of yourself in the almost freezing water, leaving all your worries for the few seconds you had underwater.
Don’t be afraid. It’ll be over soon. Just stay… very… still.
You were scared. You couldn’t open your eyes, and the water suddenly felt too thick. The searing pain that was becoming too familiar in your lungs felt like it was begin to crawl out of your chest and into your throat.
But it was all gone in a split second.
Panicked and scared out of your wits, you immediately crawled your way out of the bathtub, not caring if you were curled up naked on the bathroom floor. You reached for the first thing you could grab to cover yourself, until you realised that it was still the same damn sundress. Suddenly, all the air just left your body, and you were starting to wonder if it was still an asthma attack.
You hoisted yourself up on the sink, both coughing and wheezing, trying to do everything you can to get yourself some oxygen.
“Sweetie? What’s going on?” the familiar voice of your mom came muffled from the other side of the door. When you replied with nothing but aggressive and painful coughs, the knocking became incessant, and her calls turned to worried cries. “Open the door!”
The same sensation of something crawling out of your throat came back. This time, you were more aware than your paralyzed state a few minutes ago. You stuck your fingers in your throat, feeling for any obstruction.
And you did.
With one forced cough, you were able to pinch out something smooth but foreign. You yanked it out, clenched it in your fist, and spat whatever fluid it brought out. You were initially worried that it was blood, but as you looked at the white ceramic of the bathroom sink, it was black.
When the bathroom door burst open, you quickly opened the faucet, flushing down whatever it was. Your mom rushed over to you and covered your hunched figure with a bath towel before pulling open the medicine cabinet behind the mirror to fish out your emergency inhaler.
“Come on, sweetie,” she carefully urged the inhaler in my mouth, pressing down to dispense a dose, but you could barely bury it down. “Let’s go to your room. You’re freezing.” She led me step by step to my bed and laid me under the covers, but the warm blankets only made me feel worse. “Your dad is coming with the nebulizer. Don’t worry. Just careful breaths.”
You didn’t remember how long it took for you to fall asleep that night, but you woke up the next day to your mom entering your room, already dressed in her office attire. She must’ve seen the panic on your face when you realised that it was way past your alarm.
“I called you in sick at the community pool,” your mom said. “Your dad will be picking you up after work to bring you to the hospital. In the meantime, just rest, okay?” She pressed a kiss on your forehead before she left the room, and you were alone again.
Then you felt the soft thing that you had in your fist the entire night. You raised your hand and held the foreign object over your head.
A black petal.
Panic bubbled up at the base of your spine, and you wasted no time in getting out of bed and getting dressed. You needed to tell Chief Hopper or Mrs. Byers. Or even just any one in Mike’s party.
And Steve.
Suddenly, it hit you. Dustin would still be around Steve decoding whatever Russian code they were on. The kid can easily call a code red for your situation. You grabbed your keys with the intent of going to Starcourt.
Just as you locked the front door, Max and El came rushing in their bikes, looking as alarmed as you are. They rushed to you, especially El who gave you a pleading look.
“It’s Billy.”
~
“As much as I appreciate you calling a grown up to investigate, this seems highly unnecessary.”
You were clearly uncomfortable as you turned the corner to Cherry Lane. You already gave them an earful when they admitted that they were spying on random people during their sleepover last night. Personally, you didn’t think that Heather would suddenly go for Billy when she just went on a date with someone else the other week, but maybe Billy was just that convincing.
“But the screams,” El reasoned.
“When Billy is alone with a girl, they make, like, really crazy noises,” Max argued, making you laugh at her words. Case in point.
“That’s surprising,” you noted. “I assumed that because he’s such an asshole he doesn’t…” you trailed off when you caught El’s clueless look from your rear-view mirror. “Never mind.”
“They scream?” El voiced out her confusion.
“Yeah, but, like… happy screams.” Then Max turned to you. “Oh, just that house right there.”
Your laughter came out in breathless snorts at this point. You pulled the car in park around the curb. “Okay, that’s enough,” you interrupted. “You don’t need to know about that yet, El.” You watched the house and hummed in thought. “His car’s not there. This’ll be easy.”
The three of you went inside the house and headed to his room. You knew that their family was very far from a loving one, but you tried to wrack your head for a reason as to why Billy’s bedroom door had a hinge lock from the outside. You barely had any thoughts about that little detail before Max pushed the door open.
“Why do I get the feeling we’re gonna find all sorts of wrong here?” Max said.
“Well, his tastes in music aren’t half bad,” you commented, flicking through his stack of cassette tapes by his stereo. You pulled open his bedside drawer and laughed at its contents. “Jackpot.”
Max rushed over to peek, only to see his collection of ‘printed ladies.’ “Ugh!” she exclaimed. “Gag me with a spoon.”
Then we heard El calling us from the bathroom.
We followed her to see empty ice packets around his tub. The unsettling feeling crept in again as you remember that you were also trying to keep yourself cold last night. But you weren’t the only one who was unsettled.
El, who was breathing heavily, stared off into the corner, and when Max and you followed her line of sight, there it was. Blood. You carefully opened the trash bin and pulled out a utility bag from Hawkins’ Community Pool.
“Let’s go.” You didn’t waste any time leaving the house and getting into the car.
Despite the darkening skies and thunder rumbling, you got there in record time. You ran to see a co-worker of your closing the pool area. Protocol. But he definitely wasn’t pleased to see you.
“Didn’t you call in sick?” he said, sounding annoyed. “You’re the second person to bail today.”
“Heather didn’t come in?” Max asked.
“Obviously. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be doing thi— Hey!”
The three of us ran back to the car to figure out what to do next.
“We can go back to my place,” you suggested. “Wait out until Heather comes home next door.” Then you remembered. “Shit,” you cursed, turning on your car before the girls agreed. “My dad is supposed to pick me up for a doctor’s appointment.”
Luckily, your dad wasn’t home yet when you got back. Probably due to the storm. However, the girls already had their own plans in mind when they walked over next door to the Holloway’s.
“Shit, shit, shit,” you hissed, jogging over to them. “Don’t go running off without me.” You looked at the now open front door. “Did you just unlock the door? This is trespassing!”
“She’s inside,” El whispered. She and Max entered the house, and you had no choice but to follow.
The three of you carefully treaded towards the voices in the dining room. There you found Billy with Mr. and Mrs. Holloway chatting away. The sight of your three by the hallway halted their conversation.
“Um, hey, Janet, Tom,” you greeted. “We tried to knock, but you probably didn’t hear us over the storm.”
“What on earth are you doing here?” Billy cut in, his eyes trained on Max and El.
“Where is she, Billy?” you asked firmly, staring straight into his eyes.
“Where is who?” Billy smiled innocently, but it didn’t give you any ease.
“Well, they’re a little burnt! I’m sorry.” Heather walked in from the kitchen, carrying a tray of cookies. “Oh, hey, girl! Is your shift over?”
“Heather!” Billy called. “This is my sister, Maxine.” He gestured to Max before his eyes landed on El. “I’m sorry. I did not quite catch your name.”
“El.” Eleven responded with her eyes pointedly trained on Billy.
“El,” Billy echoed, his polite smile turning into something menacing.
It definitely unnerved the three of us. Your hands held onto their shoulders and pulled them behind your back, leaving you to face Billy. “You guys weren’t at work, so we got worried,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.
“Heather wasn't feeling so hot today, so we thought we'd take the day off to nurse her back to health.” Billy turned to Heather. “But you’re feeling just fine right now. Aren’t you, Heather?”
“I’m feeling so much better,” Heather smiled, but there was something about it that didn’t seem right to you.
Max and El tugged at your hand. You looked at them to see them silently pleading at you with their eyes. You gave a brief shake of your head before turning back to Billy. “I’m sorry to disturb you,” you said carefully. “I’ll take the girls home.”
“Thank you for looking out for my sister and her… friend.”
You made sure that the girls walked ahead of you, and right before you passed the front door, Billy pulled you to him. You barely could get a noise out as he pressed his hand over your ribs.
“You’re one of us,” Billy whispered before he shoved you out and shut the door.
It all happened in a split second that the girls didn’t even notice the exchange. The fear stabbed you deep in the gut that you basically dragged them back to your house, forcing them not to look back. Only when you got inside your house that the tension released from your body but only just.
“I’m taking you guys home, and tomorrow, we’re meeting up with the party, okay?”
“You’re not going anywhere, young lady.”
You winced and found your dad staring you down with his arms crossed.
Damn it.
~
“As soon as we’re done here, you’re grounded for a week.”
You groaned and held back the urge to roll your eyes. You were in the hospital waiting area for your family physician, but because there were a handful of minor accidents because of the storm, the wait was a bit long, especially when you were not priority. It was fine during the first ten minutes, but after half an hour, you were starting to get cranky.
“I’m going to the restroom.”
Your dad made a move to get up, but you stopped him. “There’s literally a storm out there, and you drove me here,” you pointed out. “Where else can I go?”
Your dad just scoffed but leaned back in his seat, waving you off. “Bring me back a coffee then,” he said.
You walked down the hallway but turned to the payphones instead of the restrooms. You dialled in the number you were so familiar with and hoped that he’d be home by this time.
“Hello?” Steve’s voice rang through the speaker, sending relief through your body.
“Pick me up at the hospital,” you said.
“Wait, what?”
“Oh, and do it in half an hour.”
“There’s literally a storm outsi—”
“I’m also staying at your place tonight.”
“Hey! What is going—”
“Thanks, Harrington.”
Steve arrived at the hospital in twenty, still dressed in his sailor uniform. With your dad still busy with his coffee and a random medical pamphlet, you cocked your head to the side and sent Steve a signal where to wait while you made your escape. For the second time, you got up to your feet.
“I think I want a coffee actually,” you said. “Be right back, daddy.”
Your dad hummed, not even lifting his eyes from the pamphlet.
For a split second, your heart seized at the sight of your clueless father. You wanted to tell him and mom about the monsters and how they were this close to taking you, but they were better off not knowing. It wasn’t worth risking their lives when it could be just you.
With a heavy heart, you kissed the top of his head and walked down the hallway, heading for the exit and into Steve Harrington’s getaway car.
“Okay, but what the hell is going on?” Steve asked, pulling the car in drive.
You didn’t answer and just hugged your knees to your chest while crying silently. You’re one of us. You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to level your breathing, which now felt like such a laborious task. Now that you knew the truth, it was almost like you could feel it all inside you. Taking every piece of you.
You were quickly pulled out of your thoughts by a warm hand clasping yours. You raised your head and looked at Steve, who kept his eyes on the road, but continued to squeeze your hand. You managed to stop crying and thread your fingers through his and bask in his warmth.
You knew it was just temporary. You knew who he really liked. And as if the universe was aware of your feelings, they decided to cut the moment short by sending your chest squeezing and blocking your airways again. You dropped Steve’s hand and clutched at your chest as you exploded into another coughing fit.
Steve panicked and quickly glanced between you and the road. “What’s happening?” he asked frantically. “Should I take you back to the hospital?”
You violently shook your head. “N-no,” you managed to wheeze out. “Dr-drive.”
“Where’s your inhaler?” Steve asked to which you left unanswered.
Finally, you managed to cough out a chunk of something, freeing your airways. You quickly shoved it in your pockets without checking before Steve noticed it. You exhaled in relief and leaned back in his seat.
“It didn’t use to be that bad,” Steve pointed out.
“Yeah.”
“Was that why you were at the hospital?”
“Mm.”
“We should go back.”
“Doesn’t matter. We’re near your place anyway.”
By the time you got to Steve’s house, he rushed to his parents’ room to find you something to wear from his mom’s closet. “Go take a shower and warm up!” he called out from the second floor.
You dragged your feet into the downstairs bathroom and rinsed your mouth. As you spat out the water, swirls of blood and black goo circled around before disappearing down the drain. You pulled out the clump that you hid in your pocket and teared up at the sight of a fully formed flower.
It was cruel that something as hauntingly beautiful as this was killing you from the inside.
When you flipped the flower over, you noticed thin tendrils from where the stem should be. You were horrified that the tendrils were actually moving like tiny tentacles. It reminded you of that day when you were in the tunnels under the pumpkin farm.
Without any more thought, you dropped the flower in the sink. Remembering that they were susceptible to heat, you immediately turned on the faucet to its hottest setting. As the water hit the flower, your lungs were suddenly set on fire.
Out of instinct, you turned the faucet off, relieved that the flower immediately dried out and broke off into ashy flakes. The burning stopped as well but still lingered under your skin. Almost tripping over your own feet, you staggered over to the shower, stripping yourself of your drenched clothes and turning on the water to its coldest setting, and only then did you find relief.
You’re one of us.
It took over almost half an hour to compose yourself and figure out what to do from here on out. You put one of the fluffy robes in the bathroom and headed out to the living room where Steve was already lounging on one of the sofas, shirtless but with a towel hanging over his neck. He only seemed to notice your presence when the sofa dipped beside him under your weight.
“You okay?” Steve asked when you rested your head on his shoulder, not minding that his hair was still dripping wet. “Jesus, you’re freezing.” He moved to grab the throw blanket and pulled it over both of you then rubbed his hands on your arms to warm you up.
Meanwhile, you wrapped your hands around his waist and just closed your eyes at the sound of his heartbeat. You were mad that his was steady when you couldn’t even control the fast drumming of your own heart whenever you were near him. Still, you held Steve as if you were afraid to let go, as if he was your only reminder that you were still you. But why did it hurt, even physically, so much to hold on?
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Steve whispered, stroking the back of your head. “I don’t think we held each other like this since middle school,” he chuckled to himself at the memory. “When Vicki Carmichael took stole your partner for the Snow Ball and kissed him in front of everyone? You slept over and cried in my bed, telling me you hated her for it and me for going with Tammy Thompson.”
You wracked your head trying to remember what Steve was talking about. Maybe because it was a long day, but you couldn’t remember him holding you like this in middle school. Still, it must have been a beautiful memory if even Steve remembered it.
Sometimes it felt like you were the only one holding on so tightly in this relationship with him.
“Don’t you remember?”
You just hummed and snuggled closer to Steve.
“Okay, how about when Lewenski and I got into a fight because his girlfriend tripped you up and you skinned your knee pretty bad?”
This one, you remembered. “Your dad grounded you for a month, and you got benched for two games,” you chuckled softly.
“And you still cheered for me in the sidelines,” Steve said, sounding relieved that you were finally talking. After while a long pause, he said, “What happened? You used to tell me everything.” He continued, “I know I joke about it a lot, but I was really worried when you didn’t sign up with me at the mall. And you being sick all the time now?”
“Steve, just drop it,” you said, almost in a plea. “We’re okay. You never have to worry about me.”
Steve scoffed playfully. “That’s never going to happen,” he argued. “I’m always gonna worry about you. You don’t even notice how much trouble you get yourself into without realising.”
You tried not to think about it, but for the rest of that night in Steve’s arms, you almost felt like the vines were moving inside you, growing and taking up what was left of you that you haven’t already given to Steve.
~
“So, basically you’re a fugitive now?”
You chuckled and tiredly patted Dustin’s back. “Man, I missed you, kid,” you said. “And to answer your question, technically yes. I’m facing a lifetime of being grounded if I’m caught.”
“Let me get this straight,” Dustin began, his eyes trained on your plain black shirt that obviously belonged to Steve, “Steve snuck you out of the hospital, and you stayed in his house the entire night?” He leaned close to you. “And nothing happened?”
“Jesus, Dustin,” you wrinkled your nose at him. “People serve food here.” You gestured at the small cup of ice cream you were eating as breakfast slash brunch. Though you were wallowing your sorrows in cold, cold sweets, it did make you feel like a kid again.
“Steve is so stupid sometimes it amazes me,” Dustin thought out loud.
“I’m surprised you caught on. Seems like everyone in the world knows except him.”
“That’s because I’m me,” Dustin grinned proudly. “I bet the rest of the party doesn’t even know.”
“Who doesn’t know?” Steve entered the backroom with Robin in tow.
“Probably that you’re a dingus,” Robin snickered. Then her eyes trailed over to you. “So, we have another addition to the team,” she pointed out. “Who’s bringing her up to speed?”
“Dustin,” Steve said the same time that Dustin also said, “Me.”
Of course, it was Dustin.
While Dustin explained to you that the Russian military was most likely running a secret base right in the Starcourt Mall, you worried about El and Max, especially with not-Billy on the loose. Though they probably were already with the rest of the party right now and alerted Chief Hopper and Mrs. Byers. There was absolutely nothing to worry about.
Right?
“Got it?” Dustin finally said before narrowing his eyes at me. “Were you just zoning out the entire time?”
You snorted. “What do you take me for?”
“Fine, what did I just say?”
“Okay, I probably zoned out halfway through,” you admitted. “But your problem is pretty simple.”
Steve, Dustin, and Robin waited for you to continue.
“You just need the blueprints for the mall.”
“Why haven’t you called her the moment we were cracking the code?” Robin said, rushing outside and grabbing the tip jar. Ignoring Steve’s calls for her, she was off leaving us three at Scoops Ahoy.
~
“Touch my butt! I don’t care!”
“Can we keep it PG in here?” you frowned at the ridiculous show Steve and Dustin were putting by trying to get into the air ducts. “Just pull the boy down before someone gets hurt.”
“He can’t get hurt. He’s missing bones like Gumbo.”
“Like what?” you tilted your head.
“He means Gumby,” Dustin corrected, grabbing hold of Steve’s shoulders as he got hoisted out of the vent, “and that’s not how cleidocranial dysplasia works, Steve. I’m missing collarbones, not nerves.”
“Whatever,” Steve said. “We just need some else who could fit in there.”
Just as Steve said those words, Robin burst in the backroom, looking like she had an epiphany for the second time today. You were beginning to think she was the reason how Steve and Dustin had gotten this far. Behind her stood Lucas’ younger sister, Erica. Ah, the epiphany.
It only took the rest of the day of convincing her. The kid knew how to play hard ball. You’d give her that. She wouldn’t take anything less than ice cream for life. Frankly, you’d do the same.
You waited until the mall closed, though Robin and Steve cleared up Scoops Ahoy a few minutes early. So far, your parents were a no show, though you assumed that they didn’t think you would be hiding in the backroom of a very crowded mall. Frankly, they probably wouldn’t even believe you that you were infected with a monster from an alternate dimension and would rather help your friends with a Russian invasion than go to the hospital.
“Free ice cream for life,” Erica smirked smugly as soon as the thick sliding doors – actually odd for a simple storage room – slid open for us.
It didn’t take much snooping to find vats of glowing neon green vats of unknown substances hidden in regular delivery boxes. Without much thought, you grabbed one and made your way to the door. “Let’s just go before someone catches us.”
Again, the universe… just hated us.
“Uhh, which one do I press, Erica?” Dustin asked, insistently pressing the “OPEN” button.
Panic began to rise among all of us as mechanical whirring buzzed between the walls. Between that and the fact that we were trapped, we definitely knew we were screwed. While all of them fussed over the buttons that were no longer working, you stepped back, feeling something prickle under your skin.
“Just open the door!” Robin cried out, echoing into someone… something different.
Open the door.
Open the door!
Open the goddamn door!
Suddenly, you were on fire. You barely noticed your screams rising over everyone else’s. You fell to the floor, convulsing in agony as flashes of different people appeared in your head as if you were them. An old lady in a hospital bed, Heather, her parents, so many people who barely even knew in Hawkins… then Billy.
It was quiet with him. You saw flashes of a beautiful blonde woman calling out to him, her face concealed in a sunhat, then the beach with sand in between your toes. There was a moment of peace and tranquillity, and like someone playing a sick joke, you were in a dark place, standing in Billy’s place in front of people who were lifelessly standing still right in front of something. Something that you didn’t recognize but was so familiar to you, inside you.
He made me do it. It’s like a shadow, like a giant shadow. Please believe me, Max.
“Billy, it’s gonna be okay,” Max’s voice echoed in his head as if it were yours.
“It’s gonna be okay,” a different voice filtered through from all the noise.
“She’s unconscious. How is her inhaler going to help?” “I’m pretty sure that’s a seizure, nerd.” “Check for a pulse, Steve.”
Your consciousness fell right back on you like a pile of bricks. Your eyes fluttered open to see Steve hovering over you with your inhaler tucked between your lips. Once your eyes locked with his caramel ones, a huge wave of relief washed over his face as he pulled you into his arms.
“Oh, my God,” Steve gasped, clutching on to you for dear life. “Don’t scare me like that.”
“Get… out.”
Steve tensed and pulled away to look at you. “What?”
You weakly pulled up your – actually Steve’s shirt up to your ribs, revealing angry black veins that were now crawling over your torso. You cried out and clutched at you. “Get it out!”
“Holy sh– what the hell is that?!”
You rolled to the side and fell into a coughing fit, your back hunched over. Your nails clawed at your throat, feeling something trying to crawl itself out. Whatever happened somewhere in Hawkins pissed off the plants inside you, and you can feel them twisting and curling throughout your torso.
With much straining and the remaining oxygen in your lungs, you managed to pull out the parasite from your oesophagus. The action made Dustin and Robin gag in the corner, while Steve and Erica warily looked at the slithering vine with a fully bloomed flower you dropped on the floor, leaving a trail of blood and black goo.
“You guys, by any chance, have a lighter?” you panted, pressing your cheek against the cold metal floor for any cool relief you can take.
Silence told you no. You hoisted yourself up with much difficulty and leaned back into the crate then immediately had an idea. Albeit, a bad one. With shaky knees, you got on your feet and lifted the vat of green goo that rolled away when you dropped unconscious. You looked for the right twist to open the container when Dustin stopped you.
“What are you doing?”
“We have to kill it,” you said nonchalantly. “I mean, I could just drink this to get it over with, but I don’t want to die that quick.”
“Are you…?” Then Dustin’s eyes widened. “That day. You were… because you saved me.”
“Wait, wait, are any of you nerds explaining what’s going on?” Erica interrupted.
You sighed. “Monster,” you pointed at the vine. “Infected,” you pointed at yourself. “Must kill monster with something. Preferably fire.”
“You killed one of those before?” Robin asked.
“It was smaller last night,” you shrugged, finding the latch to open up the vat. “Hot water took care of that sucker easily.” Twisting the lid a certain way, it clicked and released. “Aha!” you exclaimed. “This is gonna hurt.” You eyed the goo apprehensively.
Then Steve snatched the lid and sealed back the vat. “There has got to be a way to do this without you in pain,” he said.
“We don’t have time, and we’re stuck here in a metal box with a monster crawling towards Erica’s sneaker!”
“Why are you yelling?!”
“I’m not yelling!” you shouted. Then you turned to Dustin with a much softer voice. “How did Will get rid of his the last time?”
“Space heaters, a lot of them,” Dustin answered. “Anything from the Upside Down hates the heat, including D’Art.”
“Well, we’re not waiting until you cough all the flowers out, so I say we dump you into a hot tub and crank the heat to full,” Steve suggested, keeping the vat out of reach. “Once we get out of here, of course.”
“Boiling her alive,” Dustin scoffed. “That’s genius, Steve.”
“Or,” Robin interrupted, “we just use the same space heaters. It worked before, so it might work again now.”
“Thank you,” you said, pointedly looking at Steve. “At least someone is trying not to kill m—” Suddenly, your lungs were set aflame as you dropped into a heap on the cold floor, convulsing in agony with your mouth open in an open scream. You briefly heard Erica speaking before ultimately passing out.
“What? You only kept one of that green acid away from us. At least the monster’s dead.”
After passing out for the second time that night, you seemed to be sleeping much longer, but when you woke up, it wasn’t much of a surprise to hear Dustin and Steve still bickering. You opened your eyes to see Steve’s legs hanging from the ceiling. Again, not a surprise.
Probably nothing else would surprise you at this point.
“Shh! Jesus Christ!” Steve hissed before disappearing entirely to the top of the elevator.
Now that spiked your curiosity.
Robin was preoccupied with Erica, and both of them didn’t even notice that you were awake. You sat up and climbed on the stacked boxes leading up to the opening on the elevator ceiling. The burning in your ribs and your shortness of your breath was easier to ignore now that you were too lightheaded to actually feel the discomfort. Still, you managed to poke your head out the opening, accidentally ending up eavesdropping.
“I heard you guys talking all night,” Dustin whispered to Steve before his eyes landed on you. He winced and shot you an apologetic look.
Steve turned and saw you by his feet, making him jump in surprise. “What are you doing up?!” he scolded. “You scared all of us last night. I thought Erica killed you.”
“Gee, your welcome!” Erica called out from inside.
“’Last night’? It’s morning?”
Dustin smiled emptily. “Yeah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve been trying to reach anyone on the radio since the mall is open. I think we’re too far down though.”
“Okay, take Dustin down with you please,” Steve said, facing the wall. “I’m gonna take a leak.”
“First of all, ew. Second, good morning,” you said, hopping back down with Dustin right behind you.
“This is one looong sleepover,” Steve called out before the sound of a stream hitting the ceiling echoed inside the elevator. “Two nights of being your personal pillow!”
“Two nights?” you muttered to yourself. “Was I with Steve the other night?” you turned to ask Dustin, who gave you a weird look.
“You stayed over his place, and he drove you to the mall, remember?”
“He did?”
“Hey!” Robin called out. “We have company.”
One fight with a Russian later, which Steve won – finally – you and the rest of the group snuck into the comms room of the secret Russian base and found out why your lungs had been reacting different once you walked further down that tunnel.
“The gate.”
You, Steve, and Dustin looked at each other in horror before turning back to the machine that was trying to pry open the gate that El had shut down last year. It was your first time seeing it, but the same dark familiarity was tugging from the deepest part of your mind. There was no reason to dwell on it, so you tugged Dustin and Steve, urging them to leave and quickly warn the others as soon as possible.
Unfortunately, leaving was harder than getting in. Guards were alerted, and all of us were sent into running. It ultimately sent us to the direction of the gate itself with Dustin almost running into the laser machine that was opening the gate if it wasn’t for you tugging the back of his shirt collar.
You didn’t like being that close to the gate. Between the soldiers yelling and Steve barking which way to run, a louder voice was whispering crystal clear voices inside your head. You surrendered to the voices for one second to try and understand what they were saying, which proved to be your mistake.
In that one second, you were teleported to an incredibly vivid memory of meeting Steve for the first time.
“Sweetie, say hi to Mrs. Harrington and Steve.”
Your hand curled into a fist on the hem of your mother’s dress. It wasn’t the first time you saw Steve Harrington. Your classmate pointed who Steve was when he passed you at the hallways of Hawkins’ Elementary. She boasted that her older sister was Steve’s “girl friend” after he kissed her during recess yesterday.
You didn’t know what any of that meant, but when you glanced at Steve Harrington, you thought he was the prettiest boy you ever seen. Steve Harrington was exactly what you imagined the princes looked like that your mother read to you at bedtime.
And now, you were at their front door because your mom worked with his mom, and Mrs. Harrington thought it would be nice to have her and you over for tea.
And Steve was still the prettiest boy you ever seen.
You were catatonic while staring up into the gate opening.
While the rest of the guards were chasing after Steve and the others, the scientists urged that the guards don’t touch you, seeing that your pupils had turned entirely black. Your exposed neck revealed raised veins that they could tell were black even under the dim, unsteady lighting in the lab.
Your blank state was finally broken when the Russians took you in a secluded room, further away from the gate. Your mind was wildly fuzzy as if you were in the middle of sinking badly in your own subconscious. You inner daze didn’t last long when the door opened again, and Steve and Robin were dragged in and also cuffed like you were.
“What happened to you there?” Steve said in a low tone. “You just froze.”
The soldier didn’t like the chit-chat and struck Steve across the face. The sound was loud enough to echo in the room that you winced upon impact. “No talking!” he spat in a thick accent. “Now, who do you work for?”
“I’m confused,” Steve said, trying to sound unphased from the hit. “Do I not talk or do I tell you who I work for?”
That earned him another hit.
~
“We have many stories of monsters from where I’m from.”
“So do we,” you groaned at the man pacing the room. “You’re not that special, dude.”
Robin and Steve were taken away over half an hour ago, mostly likely for their own interrogation. So far, on your end, this soldier has done nothing but talk your ear off about stories from where he grew up while you were strapped in an examination chair.
“I suppose you know about flowers that grow on lungs?” The surprised look on your face told him everything he needed to know. “No one knows where they come from,” he said, “… until now.” He leaned in close to you. “You are very important test subject.”
“Not for long,” you said spitefully. “I’m dying anyway.”
“Well, I suppose you will be buried in Russian soil by then,” he said, sending chills in your spine. “But now, I need to see the flowers itself.”
Your breathing quickened at the thought being sliced open.
But…
They wanted you alive enough to bring you to Russia. That meant…
“Steve!” Your eyes widened at the sight of him as they dragged him inside the room and dropped him in a heap on the floor. Your heart clenched at the blood streaked all over his mouth and his eye swollen shut. “What did you do to him?”
The soldier and the rest of the guards merely looked at you struggling from where you were restrained while Steve remained unresponsive on the floor. The soldier looked displeased at the results before him and barked out another order. Soon enough, Robin was also dragged inside the room, and similar to you, she was as distraught at the sight of him beaten up.
Then… they just left the three of you in the room alone.
“What do they want?” Robin asked. “We told them everything, and you’re the only one not strapped with us.”
You gulped. “They, uh, they know what’s wrong with me.”
That gained Steve’s attention. With much difficultly, he raised his head and slurred out, “They’re not taking you, and we’re getting out of here.”
“Right,” you snorted. “Unless you have a way of getting to those scissors and cutting yourselves free, I’m on the next flight to Russia by the end of the day.”
“Those morons. They left scissors here?” Steve scoffed.
“I think that if we move at the same time, we could get over there, and then maybe I could kick the table and knock them into your lap,” Robin said, her voice rising with desperation. “So, on the count of three, we’re gonna hop.”
You smiled as hope bubbled when they succeeded the first two swivels. But on the third, the chair legs slid, knocking them both on the floor. Robin, who had her back to you, began shaking. At first, you and Steve thought she was crying, until her quiet giggles turned into full-on laughter.
“I’m sorry,” Robin laughed, trying to contain herself, “but I just can’t believe I’m gonna die in a secret Russian base with Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington, while his girlfriend gets shipped off to another secret lab in Russia.”
“We’re not gonna die,” Steve huffed, “and she’s not my girlfriend, okay?”
“Gee, we’re tied up and have no hopes of escaping, and you choose to correct that?” you snarked at him.
There was a moment of quietness, mostly just to collect our wits, but Robin was the one to speak up again. She talked about Mrs. Click, our history teacher. Turns out she had been in the same class as Steve for the longest time, remembering every detail about him.
Just like you.
“Do you even remember me from that class?” Robin said, her voice lowering into a whisper. “It didn’t matter that you were an ass.”
And her next words just crushed you.
“I was still… obsessed with you.”
There was nothing else to do but watch as Steve’s eyes — well, eye — softened. In that moment, you felt like you were in someone else’s moment, just an audience. But wasn’t that what you always have been in Steve’s life?
“You know, I wish I’d known you in Click’s class,” Steve said, a fond smile growing on his lips. “Maybe instead of being here, I’d be on my way to college right now.”
Last semester, you wrote two of his history papers just so his grades would be high enough for him to play during the basketball playoffs.
“And I would have no idea that there were evil Russians beneath our feet,” Robin chuckled, “and I would be happily slinging ice cream with some other schmuck.”
“Gotta say, though, I liked being your schmuck.”
And there it was…
The burning in your lungs intensified, sending you in a painful fit of coughs. It was hard enough not to curl over because of the restraints on your chest. There was no way to claw at your throat or to grasp at your chest from the twisting pain.
You were too engrossed in trying not to choke from blood and black goo that you didn’t notice the door open. A different scientist came in, this time more sinister-looking, and leaned over you. “I knew it,” he smiled. “He feeds the flowers inside you.”
“W-wha…?” you managed to gasp out. “P-please… can’t… br-brea-eathe… In.... inhal-er.”
In the midst of the black spots tinting your vision, you barely made out a jet injector and something bright blue before you heard Steve yell out and everything went dark.
“… up. Wake up!”
You opened your eyes to see Dustin’s face. “Am I dreaming?”
“Come on! We have to go!”
You were so groggy that you followed Erica and Dustin to a hijacked mini-truck with Steve and Robin giggling along. Both their antics only heightened when we finally ascended back up to the mall. Steve couldn’t stop booping Dustin, while Robin was saying stuff about food and death.
“Did they give you something too?” Erica asked me.
“They probably took something instead,” you rasped out, feeling your throat. “They baited one out and pulled it out while I was trying not to choke to death.”
“Where is it now?” Dustin turned to me, smacking away Steve’s finger from booping his nose again.
“How the hell should I know? I was tied up!” you scowled at him.
“We just saved your asses!” Erica and Dustin chimed back at your tone.
The bickering didn’t end until you were all forced to be quiet as you hid in a cinema that was showing ‘Back to the Future.’ Once upon a time, it seemed to be a fun movie to watch with the kids, maybe even with El, but now, you could barely keep your knees from fidgeting as your eyes constantly watched between Michael J. Fox and the cinema doors for any evil Russians.
It wasn’t long when your lungs began burning again. You didn’t feel the need to cough this time, but it didn’t stop for a metallic taste bursting in your mouth. You grabbed an empty popcorn bag nearby and spat into the paper. Even under the dark theatre, you could see that it was mostly blood now.
You were out of time.
~
“Jesus, you look far worse than El.”
You shot Max a very unfriendly look. “The girl who just pulled a monster out of her leg using your mind powers?” You glanced at El who was cuddled up with Chief Hopper while Mrs. Byers attended to the open wound on her leg.
“Well, both you are bleeding out of your noses, and you are also growing monsters inside you.”
“ERICA!” you screeched while furiously wiping your nose.
“Just the facts!”
“What?!” Everyone else in the party, including the adults, chorused.
“You’re dying,” Will said as if he could still tell. He gave you a look of empathy and a little bit of familiarity. You knew he went through a similar thing last year, and it somehow made you less scared that he was here with you.
You nodded solemnly. “I don’t have much time,” you admitted. “It grows faster the closer I am to the gate… or when I feed it.”
“’Feed it’?” Max asked.
“We don’t have to talk about that,” you waved her off. At this point, you were just desperate to stay alive. All of you were so, so close. “If we close the gate, we can cut off all connections, right?”
“Theoretically,” Lucas added.
Since there was no other option but that, we all based our plan on that ‘theory.’ A man named Murray, who also got into a tiff with Erica, came in with a map of the underground Russian base from a guy named Alexei. With the goals in place, everyone began splitting off into groups.
“You’re coming with us, right?” Steve asked.
You bit your lip as you shook your head. “I’m staying with the girls,” you said. “You go with Dustin and Robin to Cerebro.” At the sight of his worried look, you added, “I’ll be okay.”
Steve shot you a scowl. “Don’t die without me.”
“Hard promise to keep,” you smirked, smacking his hand away from ruffling your already messy hair. Your fingers tangled with Steve’s, and he ended up holding your hand completely. “Don’t die first, Steven.”
Steve chuckled and was about to pull away when you tugged his hand back.
“Hey, Steve.”
“Yeah?”
“I know you and Robin…”
When you trailed off, Steve raised his brows at you, urging you to continue.
You shook your head, waving it off. “You guys just got drugged,” you reminded him. “Drive safely.”
“You say that as if I don’t have any experience from partying.”
“That isn’t comforting at the very least.” Then... you let go.
~
Turns out that it wasn’t just the gate that was triggering the growth.
When the Spider Monster burst through the glass ceiling for Starcourt Mall, the flowers in your lungs reacted the same way when Billy had grabbed you at the Holloway’s. It was one thing to lead the monster away from El, but it was another thing to be hunched in the trunk space of the Wheeler’s hatchback with said monster chasing you down the road.
“The answer to a never-ending story…”
You laughed at the song number from the radio in between coughs. “That definitely takes the sting out of dying,” you said. You can only imagine Erica’s face during this whole ordeal.
“Don’t say that.”
You looked at Steve in deadpan. You kept eye contact as you spat blood and body matter into an empty soda cup you found discarded in the car. It was a low-blow towards him, you knew that, and he didn’t deserve it.
But you were so tired, and you were so mad at yourself for always being late, for being cowardly.
So, when Jonathan turned the car to follow the Spider Monster that turned back to the mall, you immediately hopped off and went looking for El instead of going with them to set off the fireworks. Steve, as expected, put up a fight, insisting that you all stick together.
“I won’t go near it,” you reasoned. “I’m finding El and getting her out of here, while you keep it distracted.” When he looked unconvinced, you added, “The fireworks will also distract Billy. It’s going to be okay.”
“That isn’t comforting at the very least,” Steve said, making you laugh at your early words being thrown back at you.
“Hey!”
You turned to see Nancy Wheeler toss a bundle of fireworks at you. At your raised brow, she shrugged, “Just in case.”
Following a broken gate not too far from where Steve rammed Billy’s car, you found an employee’s corridor where Max and Mike passed out nearby with angry bruises on their faces. You rushed over for Max and shook her awake. Her eyes immediately shot open.
“Billy, it was Billy,” Max said, panicked. “He took El. You have to go. I’ll take care of Mike. Go!” She staggered to her feet, gripping the pipes for stability.
“I can’t go near him or that thing.” You hesitated leaving Max, but when she yelled at you again to go for El, you turned your feet and broke off into a run. Then the fireworks began…
“Fuck!” you screamed, falling to your knees. Every corner of your body was set ablaze. You cried out as the flowers inside you constricted with every blast.
Max and Mike quickly caught up to you, pulling you to your feet. Suddenly, it was quiet, and a wave of calm washed over you. You saw a beautiful woman in a sundress and a hat by the beach. It wasn’t your memory, but it was being returned to someone after being taken away. Billy.
“She was pretty,” you could hear El cry in your head. “She was really pretty.”
Taking advantage of the situation, you sped through the corridor and into the mall. You found Billy beginning to stand up to the Spider Monster. “When I make a run for it, you grab El and get her out of here, okay?”
“What? You just said you can’t face that thing!” Mike told you.
“Just do it!” You pushed your feet as fast as you could to face the monster.
“No!” Billy roared, grabbing the monster’s tentacle mouth to stop it from reaching El.
Seeing your opportunity, you quickly pulled the taped matchstick from the bundle and ignited the fireworks. Swinging your arm back, you flung it as hard as you could into the monster’s mouth. Right as soon as the explosive left your hand, you caught incoming smaller tentacles headed for Billy’s side, slinging two of them to your side from the crook of your elbow.
“I got you,” you said out of breath, seeing Billy’s surprised face. However, your fight had the monster targeting you, sending two other tendrils to your side instead. You barely felt it, even as its sharp tongue stabbed into your abdomen.
Touching the Spider Monster was as worse as looking straight into the Gate. You cried out as flashes of memories of you and Steve, growing up through the years, bombarded you, while the flowers inside you began crawling outside your ribs instead. You barely heard the last firework go off as you felt the vines throbbing under your skin.
An arm wrapped around your waist and pulled your unmoving feet, dragging you away. Your spotted, blurred vision could only see a head of dark blonde curls with a massive dark mass in the background screeching in agony.
“It’s over. It's supposed to be over!" you heard Max’s muffled voice say. “What’s wrong with her?!” You felt hands on your shoulder, shaking you to snap out of it.
“Steve,” you breathed out. You tried to focus on Max, but with a blink, you were trapped back in your memories. Steve telling you to go home every time as he led a different girl up the stairs to his room. Steve dropping you off while thanking you for picking out a gift for Nancy. Watching him smile ever so fondly at Robin. Seeing the smile that you so desperately desired every time.
All the memories of Steve breaking your heart, you felt all at once.
You continued to unconsciously call out Steve’s name. Even when the paramedics began wheeling you out in a stretcher. You vaguely saw them cutting your shirt open, exposing the gore that was concealed by the fabric.
The black vines had reached out on the surface of your skin. The outline of your ribs was exposed, threading black and purple angry bruises over your torso. The right side of your ribcage had completely sank, one rib twisting outwards and leaking a mix of blood and black goo. The damage was extensive, but the monster you grew and fed inside you seemed to be finally lying still, only remaining dormant once the gate was sealed once again.
“… -eral broken ribs and possible internal bleeding!” a paramedic called. “One of her lungs has collapsed. She's in shock!”
Then Steve was there. You couldn’t tell if it was a memory or if it was happening at that moment. He was struggling against two firemen, trying to get to you with one hand reaching out. With the last bit of energy left, you raised your hand, reaching out towards him too.
“Steve…”
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corishadowfang · 5 days
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Questions for 15 Friends Tag Game
Tagged by @siarven--thanks for the tag!
Rules: Answer the questions, then tag 15 people.
ARE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?
Uh...not really but also kind of for my legal name? It was the name of a character in a soap opera my mom watched, and she liked it enough to use it for me.
My chosen name...also kind of falls under the same umbrella, but for different reasons, and, uh...comes with a story. So like--I was really into fantasy stories when I was a kid/teen (I say like I'm not still into them now), and I loved making up "fantasy" names, which...basically just meant shoving a bunch of letters together until I got something I thought sounded cool. One of those names was "Coriora." For whatever reason, I fell in love with this name, and it's shortened version, "Cori," and I used it for everything. Pokemon nicknames, random characters, a self-insert OC...
And my cat. Who I adopted a few months before I made my email and FF.net account. Which is when I officially started using the name "CoriShadowfang" as my primary username online. Teenage me didn't even have the thought in her mind that she could possibly identify with the name "Cori" enough to adopt it as her own, nor did she think of the potential consequences of sharing a name with her cat.
...On the plus side, it's funny to call my cat "Cori Sr.," and watch how people try to process that.
WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?
Uh...I think Friday night? I'm pretty sure it was about something I was planning for a story, aha. (I cry VERY easy, haha, and the thing that spurs it does not necessarily have to be sad.)
DO YOU HAVE KIDS?
Do pets count...?
WHAT SPORTS DO YOU PLAY/HAVE YOU PLAYED?
I was signed up for baseball, basketball, and soccer when I was a kid, though of those, soccer was the only one I actually liked. I ended up running cross country and track in high school (though after that ended up running only for fun, since, uh...the competitive part of that wasn't very enjoyable for me, aha). In college I did fencing, which I loved and often miss a lot, but there...really aren't many places that offer fencing around where I live. I did do some long sword for a while a couple of years ago; transition to that from fencing was an interesting experience, since the fencing muscle memory...did not go away. ("What do you mean I have to hold this with two hands?? ...What do you mean I can't just stab them?!") That ended up being pretty expensive, though, so I only got to take lessons for a few months. It was still fun, though!
DO YOU USE SARCASM?
Depends on the situation! I use it a lot less online, because I'm worried about coming across as, like...rude or mean. When I do use it, it's often toned down a lot. Offline, it depends on who I'm around, and how they react to it. (Or if I'm just...getting really frustrated. Then it tends to come out more.)
WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE?
Uh, that's...a good question. Online, it's definitely their interests, and...I guess it's kind of also the same offline? If I'm given the opportunity, haha. Like--if I see you're wearing a Pokemon pin or reading a fantasy book or something, I'm immediately going to be focused on that, haha.
WHAT’S YOUR EYE COLOUR?
Mostly blue; the bottom of my right eye has a patch of green in it.
SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS?
Happy endings! I never got into scary movies very much, aha.
ANY TALENTS?
Uh...I guess writing probably counts? I'm also a pretty good distance runner.
WHERE WERE YOU BORN?
The middle of nowhere, Pennsylvania.
WHAT ARE YOUR HOBBIES?
Writing, haha; I joke that it's all I do, but uh...it really is most of what I do. Besides that, I like drawing, reading, playing video games, and hiking. I guess playing card games/board games might also count? But uh, I do that a lot with my friends and family.
DO YOU HAVE ANY PETS?
Yes! Cori Sr. is still around, haha, and I also recently adopted a puppy named Luna. Obligatory pet photos:
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HOW TALL ARE YOU?
5'4''
FAVOURITE SUBJECT IN SCHOOL?
Probably unsurprisingly, lit/creative writing, haha. I also really liked most science classes, too; learning about nature was one of my favorite things in school, and any sort of labs where we could go outside and actually study plants/animals were amazing.
DREAM JOB?
If money weren't a concern, and I could just do anything I wanted for the rest of my life without worrying about how to pay the bills...I would love to just write stories full time. Writing really is one of the things I'm the most passionate about, and I'd love to be able to pour my all into it without worrying about getting too burnt out or needing to take on extra jobs to make ends meet. Maybe one day...
I will tag...wait I need 15 of you...uhhh @starlightwayfinder, @cq-studios, @recusant-s-sigil, @scalacaelumx, @hallowed-nebulae, @serenedash, @thetwilightroadtonightfall, @rosie-kairi, @fin-al-mix, @kicktwine, @zmwrites, @talesabound, @gotchaocha, @bookwormally, and @lightwithinthedarknessu, if any of you want to do this! Absolutely no pressure, though! (And feel free to skip/leave out any you might feel uncomfortable answering/don't feel like answering.)
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starlightkun · 1 year
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❧ word count: 20.1k
❧ warnings: cursing, mentions of death/dead people but as a moral quandary, definitely more legal jargon than there should be i am so sorry (if it doesn’t make sense then it wasn’t important), oh there’s a short scene with a weirdly graphic depiction of eating fruit sorry if that gives you the ick, it gets very existential and kind of angsty at some points in this one in terms of morality around death and reader’s job
❧ genre: fluff, no literally so fluffy it probably should have been in the warnings actually, established relationship, greek gods/goddesses au, hades jaemin, human reader, nades au, paralegal reader, bit of a ham-fisted persephone allegory, inspired by the gods/goddesses assigned to the work it unit in 2020 for this video, appearances by aphrodite johnny, bestie jeno, coworkers kun and sicheng, and galactic-threat level menace yangyang
❧ extra info: this is the sequel to obsidian black, it cannot be read as a standalone!!!
❧ spotify playlist
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⤷ series masterlist
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Your fingers were still caressing his cheek, softly, he was still holding you with a hand on your back, and he was beholding you with a yearning that made your heart lurch against your ribcage; and you knew in that moment if you asked him for his own heart he would have reached his hand into his chest and given it to you, the organ still beating and dripping crimson.
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“Hi, honey, how was work?”
Jaemin was already in your apartment when you got home that night, sitting in his favorite spot in your armchair, book in hand. As you walked around in front of him, you saw that this time his pick was Dracula by Bram Stoker.
“It was alright, lots of revising briefs,” you stretched your neck out. “And what exactly do you do all day while I’m at work anyway?”
“I do own a business, you know.”
“The Underworld is an LLP?” You joked as you stretched your shoulders next.
“An LLC actually,” he quipped back as he flipped to the next page. “But I meant one on Earth.”
“Glad you’ve got something to keep you busy aside from dead people,” you twisted around to crack your back, letting out a groan when you heard a satisfying pop. “Dinner?”
“I know a place nearby.”
And just under forty-five minutes later you were sat beside Jaemin in a private booth at a nice restaurant, drink in hand and food on the table.
“By ‘know a place’ you meant you had surprise reservations,” you declared, affectionately bumping his knee with yours.
“Maybe so,” he grinned, resting an arm over the back of the booth. “Did it work?”
“Depends, what were you hoping it would do?”
“Oh you know, woo you, make you fall madly in love with me, the usual.”
“Hmm,” you pretended to scrutinize your surroundings. “I guess I’m feeling mildly wooed.”
Jaemin suddenly leaned in, and you watched him, breathless, eagerly awaiting his next move. You always enjoyed your back-and-forth, the seamless way you two went around each other, the mutual pushing and pulling. With him this close you reveled in the smell of cedar, cinnamon, and bergamot wafting around you, drawing you in even closer.
“Well then how…” his arm that had been resting on the back of the booth now wrapped around your shoulders, the fingers of that hand gently gracing over the shell of your ear “…about…” his cool fingertips brushed over the back of your neck, raising goosebumps in their wake to then caress over your other ear, “…now?”
Suppressing a giddy smile, you lifted your own hands to feel at your earlobes. You hadn’t been wearing any earrings when you got to the restaurant, but now you could feel jewelry there.
“And what are these?” You asked as you felt over the smooth gems dangling from your ears.
“Opal.”
Your enamored grin finally took over your face, “Okay, I’m officially wooed. The magically appearing earrings got me. Thank you, Jaemin.”
“Success,” he murmured before giving you a fond peck.
His hand stroked up and down your back as you leaned against him, enjoying the quiet that the private booth afforded you.
“You looked tired when you came home, Y/N,” Jaemin commented, and you could hear the hint of worry coloring his tone. “More tired than just proofing briefs.”
You sighed, reaching for your glass to take a sip of your drink, “It was the content of the briefs. I’m usually pretty ambivalent about the morality of the stuff we do at Kim & Moon. But the one that Ms. Haseul had written on this medical malpractice case…”
Your date didn’t speak as he let you find your words.
“The argument she constructed… it was the first time I genuinely just felt… gross about the work I was doing, and all I was doing was proof-reading the thing! I didn’t even write it! And I know Ms. Haseul doesn’t actually believe in what’s in that brief, it’s just a legal argument, it’s all putting together precedent and logic and interpreting the facts of the case. She doesn’t even think it’ll work; she just has a responsibility to try every avenue she can for her client. But… I don’t know. Someone died in this case, Jaemin.”
“They did?”
“Yeah, and I can’t say for sure whether it was because of anything our client did or didn’t do. But the crux of Ms. Haseul’s argument is that our client, as this patient’s medical provider, didn’t owe a duty of care to the patient because the provider wasn’t technically an employee of the hospital due to a bunch of legal stuff, even though our client directly treated them. She said our motion will definitely be denied at the hearing but… it’s scary.”
“Death?”
“Hm?” His question threw off your train of thought for a moment.
“Death is scary?”
“I meant that Ms. Haseul’s duty to her clients involves arguing that medical providers don’t have a duty of care to ensure that their patients don’t die. And that my job involves helping her do that. But yeah, I guess that involves a want to not die. I don’t think not wanting to die and being afraid of dying are the same thing, though.”
“Are you afraid of dying?”
“I… don’t know,” you frowned thoughtfully as you looked down into the mouth of your glass. “I think most people who are, are usually afraid because they don’t how they’ll die or because they don’t know what happens after they die. They’re afraid of the unknown. Which is a pretty good thing to be afraid of. But I’ve been to the Underworld with you, I’m dating Hades himself, for fuck’s sake. I’ve got a fairly good idea of what’ll happen to me after I die. And… I don’t know if I’m afraid of dying.”
“That’s fair. You know more about it than most humans do, but not enough about what your specific experience of dying will be like to make a determination.”
“Really though, I just couldn’t stop imagining living in a world where I could go to a doctor who doesn’t owe me any duty of care, who doesn’t legally have to give a shit if I lived or died,” you sighed, then took a long swig of your drink, well aware that it was mostly diluted by the melted ice by now. “And I don’t want to contribute at all to making that world a reality. I don’t want any part of that, big or small. Even just proof-reading a legal brief. It just… grossed me out.”
You set your glass down on the table a little too harshly, the garish bang making you jump a little.
Looking up to meet the dark eyes that you could feel watching you, you searched them for something, “Jaemin, do you think I’m a hypocrite? I-I have all these opinions, but when it comes down to it, I’m at this job, helping attorneys to write briefs that say all this horrible stuff.”
His gaze was steady as he answered, “I think that if you had to find a new job every time your boss asked you to do something that went against your morals in the slightest way, you’d be spending so much of your time trying to find new jobs that you’d never have the time to actually impact the world in any meaningful way.”
“So that’s a yes.”
“That’s a ‘you proof-reading one brief isn’t going to bring about the end of The Hippocratic Oath and all morality is relative anyway.’”
“Damn, moral relativism…” you clicked your tongue. “Intro to Philosophy flashbacks aside, you might be making some points, Jaemin.”
“Thanks, I try,” he chuckled. Tilting his head to the side, he brought a hand up to grace over your new earrings again, tender but contemplative gaze in his obsidian eyes, “Y/N, do you think I’m a monster?”
His voice wasn’t sad or forlorn, just curious, inquisitive. You took his hand in yours—the one that was looking over the jewelry he’d just gifted you—and squeezed it. It was really more self-soothing than anything else, and he ran his thumb over your bejeweled knuckles in response.
“And where’s this coming from?”
“Humans have a lot of monstrous ideas about death and the dead. I want to know what you think.”
“In my ghost lit class, one of the concepts we discussed was the difference between the monstrous and the divine. I argued that there is no line between the two, that it’s up to how one chooses to interpret what they’re seeing or experiencing.” You brushed the back of your fingers over his cadaverous cheeks, taking comfort in the familiar cold against your skin. “So no, Jaemin, you’re not a monster. Not to me.”
You finally found what you’d been searching for in his eyes, that warmth of evanescing embers that compelled you to keep looking lest you miss the moment the ephemeral glow finally died. Your fingers were still caressing his cheek, softly, he was still holding you with a hand on your back, and he was beholding you with a yearning that made your heart lurch against your ribcage; and you knew in that moment if you asked him for his own heart he would have reached his hand into his chest and given it to you, the organ still beating and dripping crimson. Surging forward, you claimed his lips with your own. He reciprocated your kiss with one that made your head spin and your very bones ache and burn with a craving to both embower him and be consumed by him. Jaemin, god of the Underworld, your Hades.
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“Hey, Y/N, I need you to draft a—”
“I’m going on lunch, Sicheng. I can in sixty minutes.”
“Oh. Right.”
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“Y/N, will you please help me research this—”
“Qian Kun, the clock just struck 5:00 p.m., the work day is over. I’m going home and you should too.”
“God, sorry, I didn’t even realize. Yes, go home. I still have so much to—”
“I say this with the best intentions and all the platonic, workplace appropriate, and professional love in the world: Don’t make me go into your office and turn your computer off without saving your files.”
“…5:30?”
“Fine. And you know I can check your billing logs in the system, right? I’ll be able to see if you’re here even a minute past 5:30.”
“I know that now.”
“Uh-huh. Goodnight, Kun.”
“Goodnight, Y/N.”
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And so went your days at Kim & Moon, helping to conduct the three-ring circus that was Kun, Sicheng, and Yangyang. Despite the legal assistant initially seeming like a trustworthy and responsible ally on your first day, you soon found that he was an accomplice to the madness, or more often than not, the instigator. He was good at his job, and you could rely on him to make sure things got done by deadlines. But when it came to making the workplace itself run smoothly and ensuring your day-to-day lives were stress-free? Absolutely not. He knew exactly how to make his attorneys tick in the worst ways.
Dong “dumber than a box of rocks” Sicheng was the current victim of Yangyang’s boredom today. How he could even get bored with your workload was just a testament to his efficiency, but it irked you that instead of using this free time for good he instead used it to be the menace of the millennium.
“Isn’t that right, Y/N?” Yangyang’s voice suddenly cut into the recording of Ms. Haseul’s voice that was playing into your headphones. His tone clearly begged for you to agree with him.
“Hm?” You took the headphones off and paused the dictation.
Sicheng was standing at Yangyang’s desk, a stapler in his hands. You raised an eyebrow to look between them. This seemed somewhat normal so far.
“All the new staplers now have a safety mechanism so that they won’t staple fingers because a kid stapled all the way through his finger and his parents sued the stapler company for like millions of dollars,” the assistant said with the right amount of casualness, sincerity, and almost disbelief that Sicheng didn’t know this ‘common piece of knowledge.’ “They rolled out the new ones what—ten years ago?”
“You seriously interrupted my transcription for this?” You rolled your eyes. You were about to put your headphones back in when you saw Sicheng tentatively reaching his index finger towards the mouth of the stapler. “No, Sicheng!”
You lurched forward to take the stapler from his hand before he could test the ‘safety mechanism’ on himself. Yangyang had to bury his face in his arms on his desk to stifle his laughter.
“He was lying, wasn’t he?” Sicheng was catching on quicker to when Yangyang was teasing him these days. Not quick enough that you didn’t have to intervene every time you saw it happening, but you had to give him credit somewhere at least. Sometimes you didn’t have to explain to him afterwards the fact that he was being had.
“How did you even become a lawyer, Sicheng? How did you get through law school?” You waved the stapler at him accusatorily. “And I don’t mean grades, I’ve read some of your briefs, so I don’t doubt your 4.0 GPA. I mean how did you not die before you ever got there? How did you not stick a fork in an electrical socket, or eat candy with razorblades in it, or get kidnapped before you met me? I’m convinced you should be dead in a ditch and yet here you are.”
“It’s because he’s pretty,” Kun walked up to your desks then, setting down the papers in his hand to pinch Sicheng’s cheek, and the other attorney swatted his hand away. “People want to do stuff for him.”
Yangyang had sobered up from his laughing fit, teasing glint in his eye now focused on his other attorney, “That why you followed him to Kim & Moon, Kun? To make sure the big bad lawyers here don’t be mean to your pretty Sichengie?”
“So all sense of professionalism and decorum is just out the window right now?” Sicheng scoffed.
“That is not how it happened, Yangyang, and you know it,” Kun rolled his eyes.
“Did you two know each other before you worked at the firm?” You asked, realizing that you didn’t actually know anything about how the two associates had started at Kim & Moon, even after working at the firm for six months now.
Kun took it upon himself to explain, “We were friends in law school. I was a year ahead of Sicheng and after I graduated, I did a short stint at the prosecutor’s office. He came here straight out of law school.”
The other attorney finished the story, “When Kun figured out being a prosecutor wasn’t his thing after a couple years, he came to Kim & Moon as well.”
“That’s cute. Besties who litigate together, stay together. Right Jeno?” You tossed the last question over your shoulder at your friend who was working at his own desk. Jeno gave a thumbs up back without turning around, and you could see that his headphones were definitely in. Returning to the other three men with you, you looked to your fellow assistant, “And what about you, Yang? When did you start working here?”
“Oh you mean the worst day of my life?” Yangyang sighed melodramatically.
“One of these days I’ll record you with my dictaphone when you say that, play it for the senior partners, and you’ll be out of here you little demon,” Sicheng narrowed his eyes at his assistant.
“Anyway, I actually started out as an intern like…” Yangyang craned his neck around until he spotted a tall, lanky figure carrying probably too many boxes of copier toner into the copy room. “Like Sungchan over there. I got an internship here in undergrad because one of my professors knew Mr. Jeong, and I didn’t have anything better to do. Then once I graduated, I had no other plans and was offered a full-time legal assistant position working with Yejin. She was Ms. Haseul’s paralegal before you, Y/N. She used to do all of Ms. Haseul and Sicheng’s work by herself. They wanted to have Kun start medical malpractice too, so I came on as more support.”
“And when was that?”
“I came on full time a little before Jeno started I think?” Yangyang grabbed a pen from his desk, spinning his chair around and throwing the pen at said man. It missed Jeno’s head, thankfully, smacking against one of his monitors and clattering onto his keyboard. Your friend whipped around, immediately focusing in on your chaotic coworker as the source.
“What?”
“When was your first day at the firm?”
“I don’t know, summer like two years ago now?”
“Sounds about right. Thanks.”
“I’m keeping the pen, asshole.”
“I have more.” Yangyang shrugged, once again turning back to your conversation. “So I started full-time probably May that same year.”
“You are a galactic-threat level menace,” you shook your head. “You know that, right?”
“Don’t compliment him, Y/N,” Kun sighed.
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Laid in Jaemin’s arms one night, feeling full, warm, and content, you couldn’t think of anywhere else you wanted to be in that moment. Dinner had been exceptionally delicious that night, and when you got back to your apartment you wanted nothing but to curl up with him on your couch, which he easily indulged you in. He picked a couple books off your shelf, plopped down onto your couch, and pulled you down on top of him. You nearly melted when he tucked you under his chin, and had been in a hazy state of half-consciousness since. Your eyes would occasionally flutter open or shut as you listened to his heartbeat under your ear, the sound of his fingers running along the pages as he turned them, and felt his chest rise and fall with his breaths. His arms were wrapped around you enough to read the book behind your head—The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, you’d caught a glimpse of the cover. You knew when he’d found a passage that he was exceptionally taken with or wanted to ponder, because one of his hands—the right one, specifically—would fall to the small of your back just under the hem of your shirt, his middle finger drawing mindless circles along your skin until he was ready to move on.
This particular part seemed to be stumping him, though, as his fingers ruminated on your back for much longer than they had before. Before you could comment on this, you let out an embarrassing noise at the sudden feeling of his cool fingertips working their way up your spine then along your shoulder blades, caressing your skin and pressing on your body playfully.
“Jaemin!” You coughed to cover up the squeak in your voice. “What are you doing?”
“Just checking for wings, I know they’ve got to be around here somewhere,” his words hummed against you as you continued to wriggle away from the ticklish feeling.
His book had apparently been set aside at some point, as you felt both his hands on you. When you’d finally managed to twist yourself onto your back, albeit still on top of him, he gave up his ministrations.
You couldn’t help the tiny bursts of laughter that continued to bubble up out of you at the pure cheesiness, “After thousands of years, you still can’t get better lines than that?”
You grabbed his hand, holding your linked hands to your chest, a fond smile on your lips as you looked down at his fingers between yours. He kept you tucked under his chin, wrapping his left arm around your waist as you had already claimed his right.
“Why would I want to when they make you giggle like that?” He then splayed his right palm over your chest, and you could feel your heartbeat thrum up against it as if your heart were trying to leap into his waiting hand, “And make your heart race like this?”
Another few moments passed by of the two of you quietly listening to your heartbeat before you spoke up again; softly, absentmindedly, the words leaving your mouth as soon as you thought them, “Sometimes I feel more like Icarus with you, actually.”
“How do you mean?”
“I swear sometimes it feels like it’s just too good to be true, like I’m too happy and if I’m not careful it’ll all melt away and I’ll fall into the ocean.”
“You do remember the other part, right? Icarus was warned that if he flew too low, the seawater would weigh down his wings.”
“…You’re right.”
“Of course I am,” he said, and you could hear the smug smile in his voice, annoyed that it actually kind of made you feel better. The fact that your Hades was so confident about something, it made you want to believe in it too. His right hand moved from your chest so that two of those fingers could lift your chin. Once you were looking up at him, he continued, “Besides, you don’t have beeswax wings anyway, you have angel wings, remember?”
You let out something between a scoff and a chuckle, both in disbelief that he was still on about that, and also absolutely smitten with him as usual.
Knowing that he didn’t have you convinced or cheered up enough for his liking, Jaemin’s other hand snaked to the space in between his chest and your back, fingers playing at the bones of your shoulder blades once more. “Aha! I’ve finally found them, Y/N, they’re right here! I told you you’ve got angel wings!”
The longer he went on the more his fingers drifted around to your sides to tickle you instead, and you squirmed in his grip as both his hands participated in the assault, you soon falling from your previous spot on top of him. His arms darted out to gently guide your tumble, twisting himself around to make sure that you landed on the couch cushions instead of the ground.
“Jaemin!” You yelped out as the breath was being squeezed from your lungs.
He quickly let up his tickle attack, now hovering over you, supported by a hand on either side of your head. You looked up at your Hades with a bright grin that surely mirrored his, reaching up to grab his face with both your hands and kiss that smile right off him.
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“Anything else on the agenda, Y/L/N?” Ms. Haseul prompted you.
“No, ma’am,” you shook your head, having crossed off the final thing. You’d just concluded your monthly team meeting for everyone under Ms. Haseul’s purview at the office.
“Does anybody have anything to add?”
At the other three shaking their heads, Ms. Haseul dismissed everyone, already efficiently packing up her supplies in her briefcase.
“Y/L/N, don’t forget to send that memo to Mr. Moon and Lee Donghyuck,” she reminded you on her way out, referencing the managing partner and his trusted paralegal.
“Of course, Ms. Haseul.” You nodded, but she was already out the door.
The other four of you were a little slower to leave. You cracked your back as you stood, “Alright, I’m going to the break room to grab a cup of coffee, anybody coming with?”
“I have to jump on a conference call in a couple minutes, but could someone get me a cup?” Sicheng asked from the threshold of the doorway. “The orange K-cups, two sugars.”
“Sure, Sicheng, I’ll grab you one,” you nodded for him to go ahead, and he immediately disappeared down the hall.
“Y/N, what did I tell you about telling him no?” Yangyang chastised you as he tucked his pen behind his ear. “All those suffragettes didn’t chain themselves to stuff for you to give in to the patriarchy so easily.”
“Yangyang, I’m really starting to think that you’re just one of those guys who took a singular Women and Gender Studies class in college and hasn’t shut up since.”
“I think Yangyang is one of those guys who was born and hasn’t shut up since,” Kun scoffed under his breath.
But your fellow assistant wasn’t letting it go, “Y/N, seriously—”
“Liu Yangyang, it’s a cup of coffee, and I’m already going there anyway. If you asked me to make you a cup and I was already going, I’d say yes too. If Sicheng asks me to wash his car or clean his apartment, I promise I’ll say no.” You rolled your eyes. “Anyway, are you coming with to watch me singlehandedly take away my right to vote by making a man a cup of coffee or not?”
“Yeah, fine.”
“Can we go then?” Kun asked sternly, clearly waiting by the door for the two of you to stop bickering. The twitch of his hand belied that he was itching for his caffeine fix. Presumably his fourth or fifth cup at least. He must have pulled a late night or early morning. Or both.
“Oh and we’ve even got Kun to witness the downfall of gender equality as we know it!” You cheered in mock enthusiasm.
“Do I want to know what the hell you two are talking about?”
Jeno was already in the breakroom when you got there, pouring creamer into his own cup of coffee. He stepped aside for the attorney to use the machine as you and Yangyang struck up conversation with your friend.
“Did you guys see that email Mr. Jeong sent to all the support staff this morning?” Jeno asked, shaking in some sugar.
“About the Administrative Staff Appreciation Lunch tomorrow?” You confirmed. “Yeah, I’d feel a lot more appreciated if they could get somewhere nicer than the pizza place down the street to cater.”
“Or just get an open bar,” Yangyang snorted. “No lunch necessary.”
As you and Jeno groaned out your agreement, Kun had finished making his black coffee, freeing up the machine for you to start on yours and Sicheng’s.
The attorney was on his way out but slowed to a stop in the threshold of the doorway, turning and lowering his voice to address the three of you, “You didn’t hear this from me, but all of the associates were taken out for an appreciation lunch just last week at Nobu. You all deserve much more than pizza.”
And with that, he left the break room.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Jeno spat out, setting his cup down and crossing his arms over his chest.
“Oh now I definitely need a fucking drink,” you sighed, violently snapping Sicheng’s orange K-cup into place.
“I’m going to key somebody’s Tesla,” Yangyang whispered resolutely, curling one of his hands into a fist.
“No, Yangyang.” You shook your head, grabbing the two sugar packets you’d need in a minute. “No property damage. Or no property damage in our parking garage with cameras. Lord knows I’m not paying your bail.”
Your best friend took over, “What we need is a drink, or five. Tomorrow after work?”
Yangyang grabbed a coffee stirrer and gestured around wildly as he spoke. “Oh yeah, especially after that fucking insulting pizza party they’re throwing us.”
“We can invite all the support staff. At least the ones we actually like,” Jeno suggested. “Us three, Lee Donghyuck, Osaki Shotaro in Billing, uh, Sungchan the intern…”
As he trailed off, you all looked at each other.
“And that’s it, right?” Jeno asked.
“Our coworkers kind of suck, don’t they?” Yangyang mused, chewing on the plastic stirrer.
“Or are we just assholes?” You locked your own K-cup into the coffee machine.
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That night you were sprawled out on your couch, legs propped up in Jaemin’s lap as you anxiously scrolled through restaurant recommendations on your phone. Every Saturday night you and Jaemin tried a new place, and this week it was your turn to pick, but you were yet to find one, fearing that the two of you had finally ran out of restaurants in your city. Jaemin, meanwhile, was reading another book from your ghost lit syllabus, Frankenstein by Mary Shelley. You swore he’s read more of those books than you ever did, and you actually paid to take the class.
A text popping up on your screen from Jeno caught your eye.
[make it double: you’re DD tomorrow, right?]
[you: i am. might have other plans though, let me double check]
[make it double: don’t make me pay for an uber please]
“Jaemin,” you called out his name softly.
“Yes?” He put his thumb in the novel to hold his place as he looked over to you attentively.
You’d think that you’d get used to this, your Hades’ full attention on you, head lolling to the side as his gaze drank you in, black hair falling into his eyes, and fingertips messing with the edges of the pages absentmindedly. But you still weren’t, your breath hitching in your throat for a moment, your question being momentarily forgotten.
After a beat, you finally regained your speech and were able to say, “Some of my coworkers want to go out for drinks after work tomorrow, but I know that’s your time that I gave you.”
“I can come a couple hours late and we’ll add an hour each to Saturday and Sunday,” Jaemin suggested.
“Here’s the thing: tomorrow is a Friday, and Jeno and I have been taking turns DD’ing whenever we go out since college, and it’s my turn.”
“You’re anticipating a late night.” He surmised.
“I’m anticipating taking care of a drunk Lee Jeno until midnight then passing out as soon as I get home. I can’t imagine I’ll be much fun to be around after.”
“And you want to go get drinks with these people?” He clarified with an eyebrow raised.
“I know I’m not making it sound appealing but yes, I promise,” you chuckled.
“Just checking that this wasn’t a cry for help.” Jaemin tucked his bookmark in the novel to fully set it aside. “How about we move those eight hours to Saturday or Sunday then? Instead of arriving at six p.m., I'll get here at ten a.m. and we can spend the day together too.”
You squinted skeptically at him, “Can you even go out during the day? Won’t the sun burn you or light you on fire or make you glitter or something?”
“I’m the god of the dead, angel, not a vampire from a teen movie.”
“I know, just teasing,” you snickered.
“And I know you were just teasing. I love to see the little smile you get on your face in the middle of one your bits. Too adorable.”
He grabbed your free hand, and you watched him fondly as he kissed your fingers before letting your linked hands rest over your stomach.
You continued your weekend planning, “I’ll need to recuperate from Friday night and run some errands on Saturday, so a Sunday date sounds perfect. For sixteen hours straight, you’re mine.”
“I’m yours all the time,” he squeezed your hand.
“You know what I meant, you sap.” You rolled your eyes despite how warm his words made you feel inside. With the daytime suddenly available to you, a destination immediately popped into your mind, “And no making big romantic plans, I’ve got it this time; I know exactly where I want to take you for our first daytime date.”
“Understood. I can’t wait.”
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Sunday morning you were practically skipping through town, relishing in the warm sun on your skin and the feeling of Jaemin’s fingers laced through yours. You came to a stop at an intersection, waiting impatiently for the lights to change so you could cross. Bouncing on your heels, you could feel your Hades’ gaze on you, even through the dark sunglasses he was wearing.
“What?” You asked, taking your eyes off the crosswalk signal to look over at him.
“Nothing.” He was grinning at you, hair getting blown around by the passing cars. His shirt was made of a loose-fitting, flowy material with a deep-cut V-neckline, showing off an assortment of fine silver chains with pendants and gems. Even the leather belt around his hips betrayed a subtle expensiveness, the impression of a designer brand’s logo on the buckle.
He pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek, making a smile spread across your face in turn.
“Oh, signal’s changed,” he pointed out.
The rest of your walk didn’t take long, and finally you had arrived.
“Art museum?” Jaemin questioned as you tugged him towards the front doors.
“Yep!” You were buzzing, and fought to keep your voice down once you passed the threshold into the quiet building.
He bought your tickets, and you accepted the informational pamphlet from the worker behind the front desk that listed the exhibits, quickly tucking it into your handbag.
The first gallery was just behind the ticket counter, and was one of the largest, mostly for paintings. You stopped Jaemin at the very first one by the door.
“I brought Jeno here exactly once,” you whispered. “You see how big this gallery is? He cleared the whole thing in like two minutes then waited for me at the door literally tapping his foot.”
“There’s like a hundred paintings in here,” Jaemin pointed out in disbelief, looking around the gymnasium-sized room.
“I know. I’ve been back by myself and spent over two hours in just this gallery alone. Saw the docents switch out like four times.”
Looping your arm through his, you leaned against your Hades to look over the first painting. You liked to just absorb the piece in front of you, ruminate on it, really ground yourself in what you were looking at. Sometimes you read the small information card next to it about the artist and the piece. But mostly you looked at the subject, the brush strokes, the colors and how they blended into each other—or didn’t. It was relaxing. Sometimes the paintings made you feel things, and sometimes they didn’t. Sometimes they were just pretty to look at.
Jaemin was quiet for the most part, occasionally commenting when he especially enjoyed a painting, or to respond to something you said. But generally the two of you were silent, and you were satisfied that you’d found the perfect art museum companion. He never dragged you from a painting before you were done with it and even wanted to stay with some longer than you did.
The museum had three levels, the second was split into two smaller galleries, this time with sculptures, drawings, and etchings. After you and your Hades were done with that one, you found it difficult not to practically run up the stairwell to the third and final floor, knowing exactly what was waiting for you there.
“Okay, Jaemin, so this museum has something kind of special,” you forewarned him, pressing your lips together in an attempt to fight off your excited smile. “Or, I hope it’ll be special. I think it’s special, you know, for you.”
He tilted his head curiously at you as the two of you reached the top of the stairs, “Okay. It’s up here?”
“Yeah, yeah, come on,” you took him by the hand to pull him towards the entrance door to the final gallery.
The gallery you had entered was void of other patrons; and sectioned up into several smaller areas, many stark white pedestals displaying vases, urns, trinkets, with a large marble sculpture of a woman at the center as the focal point. Your focus was entirely on Jaemin’s face as you held your breath, waiting for his reaction. His eyes widened as he scanned the contents of the room.
“It’s…”
“An Ancient Greece exhibit,” you finished his sentence, drawing his eyes back to you. You fidgeted with your ring nervously, “What… uhm— Do you like it? Like, do you want to look around? This isn’t weird, is it?”
Jaemin brushed a piece of your hair back from your face, the tenderness of his touch making your chest swell. He pulled you closer, kissing your forehead before pulling back to look you in the eye.
“This is great, angel, thank you.”
At his words, you let out an audible sigh of relief. Your Hades’ obsidian irises were twinkling in the museum fluorescents as he looked at you with pure adoration.
“I love you,” he declared simply, earnestly, for the first time. “And, I’ll never love someone exactly like this again.”
You nodded in understanding, “I love you too, Jaemin. And, I believe you.”
He was still holding you, and despite the emptiness of the exhibit you were currently in, you were aware of the fact that it was a public museum that you two were in.
“Jaemin…” you murmured, listening to the docent’s footsteps in the other room. “Don’t you want to look at all the stuff?”
“In a second,” his tender gaze roamed your face. “Right now I’m looking at something more beautiful.”
“Oh God, you’re so chee—” Your retort was cut off by Jaemin finally pressing his lips to yours.
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Blearily looking around your room, you realized that it was vacant in the only way that mattered. Jaemin was gone, and you didn’t remember getting into bed last night. You were pretty sure you had fallen asleep on your couch with your Hades after getting back from your long day out. Half-sitting up against your headboard, you grabbed your phone from your nightstand to check the time. You still had five minutes until your work alarm went off. Flopping back down, you were fully intent on dozing back off, and rolled over to face the empty half of your bed.
Except it wasn’t quite empty. Atop the second pillow was a small black box. When you reached out to grab it, you felt the velvet that encased it, and pushed yourself up onto your side, held up by an elbow. It was a jewelry case of some kind. Flipping the lid open, you took a sharp breath in. Inside was a gorgeous necklace; a teardrop-shaped gemstone the size of your thumbnail in a deep red shade, surrounded by smaller white diamonds, and hanging from a dainty silver chain.
Clicking on your bedside lamp, you were able to get a better look at the center stone. It was a dark, cool red, with just the slightest tone of purple when you held it up in front of the light. Outside of direct light, it was so dark you couldn't even call it blood red. Pomegranate red, you thought to yourself. It was the color of fresh, bursting pomegranate seeds.
Unlatching the hook, you carefully clasped it back around your neck. The crystal wasn’t obnoxiously weighty, but you could feel the subtle pressure of it as it rested against your bare skin.
“Thank you, Jaemin,” you mumbled, eyes trailing over the unoccupied sheets longingly. “I love it.”
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“Damn, Y/N,” Yangyang whistled lowly as you walked into work that morning, eyeing the gems adorning your fingers, ears, and now neck. “Did you get a sugar daddy or something? You’ve got an entire jewelry shop on you.”
“Oh, uhm, no,” you shook your head, warmth spreading across your face. No sugar daddy, just the god of the Underworld.
“Mind sharing with the class where all the new bling is coming from then?”
You looked up from where your fingertip had been gently gracing the pomegranate red gem that hung from your neck to stare Yangyang directly in the eyes as you scoffed, “Actually, I would mind, thanks.”
“Bet she’s moonlighting as a cat burglar,” Jeno teased from his desk.
“Ooh, that’s a good guess,” Yangyang nodded, eyes gleaming as he continued that avenue of jibes. “Mafia boss’ daughter maybe? Y/N, what does your dad do for a living?”
The ringing of your desk phone saved you from having to respond to that. It was your boss.
“Y/L/N,” she was as monotone as ever, voice giving no indication as to her thoughts or intentions. “My office, please.”
“Yes ma’am,” you assented before placing the phone back on the receiver.
Standing from your seat, you gave Yangyang and Jeno a professionally concealed middle finger down by your thigh, earning giggles from Jeno and indignant protests from Yangyang. You coolly dropped the offending gesture to grab your company tablet, a notepad, and pencil before departing the open floor for the hallway of private offices.
You stopped in front of one partway down the hall, in the midst of the junior partners’ offices. ‘Jo Haseul’ was engraved on the nameplate in an elegant font, and you rapped your knuckles below it on the solid wood door.
“Come in,” the familiar voice of your boss called out from within.
Gently turning the handle first, you then pushed the door open.
“Good morning, Ms. Haseul,” you bowed your head politely to her.
Junior partners at the firm allowed the assistants and paralegals to address them by a formal version of their name, the associates were just addressed by their given name, but senior partners and the managing partner were of course always addressed in the most formal vernacular, Mr./Ms. Surname. Not that you really interacted with anybody higher up than Ms. Haseul anyway.
“Good morning, Y/L/N. Please, sit.” She gestured to one of the two armchairs in front of her desk.
“Thank you,” you replied quietly, taking the seat she had indicated. You quickly opened up your tablet to view her calendar and readied your pencil over your notepad. Ms. Haseul typically had a sit-down meeting with you every Monday morning to discuss the upcoming week: deadlines, hearings, meetings, etc.
Ms. Haseul took a moment to click a few things on her desktop, “Looks like we have those Hwang discovery responses due Thursday. I’ll finish dictating those this morning and you can get started on transcription today. This morning I have my hearing on the Motion to Dismiss in Lee that you filed last month. Mediation on Wednesday for Alpine Products, we sent out those letters on it, right?”
“Yes, ma’am, two weeks ago,” you confirmed, scribbling down the key events. “You also have a teleconference with the insurance company for that file this afternoon.”
“Yes, I see…” she mused, a twinge of annoyance in her tone that was only discernable to the trained ear—i.e., yours. You knew she didn’t like the insurance rep assigned to that case, he tended to be a pain in the ass constantly asking for updates. “Where are we at in scheduling the expert witness depositions for Peng?”
You filled her in on all your progress in various matters, attentively writing down her directives in response to your reporting. Finally, you had finished out the calendar for the week, as well as your works in progress.
“One last thing before I let you go, Y/L/N,” she cleared her throat.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“I have a new client meeting tonight.”
“You do? I don’t remember scheduling one,” you flipped through the calendar on your tablet in mild panic. You hadn’t booked a conference room or let building security know about an evening meeting.
“You didn’t schedule it, don’t worry.”
Your boss’ words immediately made you let out a short sigh of relief. It wasn’t long lasting, as you still needed to handle arrangements on your end, “How many will be in attendance? Will you want Jade Conference Room or Malachite? Would you like me to stay to scribe?”
“It’s a dinner meeting, so the conference room won’t be necessary.”
“Understood.”
“I would like you to come, though, Y/L/N.”
You felt your eyes bug out, stylus slipping from your fingers. Ms. Haseul never asked you to come to meetings outside of the office. Sure, you would act as scribe for some of her meetings in the office, but you’d never accompanied her to a lunch or dinner meeting.
She continued, “This will be a general corporate client, and I anticipate having them on for quite some time. You’re familiar with corporate matters, correct?”
“Yes, ma’am, that was my concentration in my paralegal studies, and you of course have several corporate clients currently.”
“I plan on having you act as case manager for this client. This dinner will be a good way for you to be introduced.”
“Of course, I’m honored, Ms. Haseul.”
The corner of her mouth quirked up just the slightest, “Good. The meeting is at Nobu in downtown. We will leave from the office at the end of the day. Change on your lunch if you need to.”
You looked down at your outfit, your typical office wear. The office’s dress code was business formal, which you made sure to follow to a T. She wanted you to wear something else?
“A little dressier but less formal,” your boss spoke again, as if reading your thoughts. “Think office Christmas party.”
An image of a suitable outfit flashed in your mind, and you nodded, “Right, thank you. I’ll change on my break.”
“That is all I have. You’re dismissed for this morning, Y/L/N. I have to prepare for that hearing now. I'll be leaving at 9:00 a.m.”
At her dismissal of you, you got back onto your feet, bowed your head to her again and departed her office. The heavy door closed with a soft click behind you. You held the pencil, notepad, and tablet in one hand as the other reached up to play with the jewel hanging from your neck. Looks like you wouldn’t be seeing your Hades until tomorrow night.
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You stepped out of the company car that Ms. Haseul had driven you there in and followed her towards the restaurant. Nobu was a high-end sushi restaurant downtown, much out of your everyday dinner price-range, but you figured she’d be paying with her firm credit card since this was a business dinner.
The hostess greeted you brightly, to which Ms. Haseul informed her of your reservation.
“Of course, right this way,” she grabbed four menus before guiding you further into the restaurant.
You two were brought to a private room, and the hostess slid the door open for you. As you sat down at the table that was within, you marveled at the aesthetics of the restaurant. It fused traditional style with modernism in a way that was effortless. The menus were set down in front of each of the four chairs at the table. Your waiter came by soon, and Ms. Haseul put in an order for four waters while you waited for the clients to arrive.
The door suddenly opened again, and two men entered the room. Your eyes were first drawn to the taller of the two, who entered ahead of his colleague. He had roughly shoulder-length wavy blonde hair that was half pulled back from his face, and he was so stunning you could hardly believe that he was anything other than a model. He was wearing an all-white suit, a bold move for a dinner. When your gaze moved from the gorgeous man to his companion, you choked on your own throat. Black hair, dark eyes, silver and gems glittering across his ears. Jaemin cocked an eyebrow at you when you made eye contact with him. He was in a similar ensemble as to when he first appeared to you: black slacks, black suit jacket, and black vest. This time, however, he did have a dress shirt underneath the vest, the top buttons buttoned up as the silver chains that hung from his neck rested atop the crisp material.
Thankfully your boss took the lead on introductions, allowing you a moment to attempt to compose yourself. She stood up from her chair to greet them, as did you.
“Thank you both very much for coming, I’m Jo Haseul,” she bowed to both of them, and you rushed to follow suit from your position beside and just behind her. Ms. Haseul then gestured for you to come forward, “Mr. Suh, Mr. Na, this is my paralegal, Ms. Y/L/N Y/N. She will be your first point of contact on all matters. She’s incredibly capable and reliable. So please, reach out to her with whatever you need.”
While the open and high praise from your boss should’ve made your chest puff out with pride, instead it practically went in one ear out the other. Jaemin, your Hades, was standing right in front of you. It took everything in you to draw your eyes from him and to the floor to once again bow appropriately to him and the other man.
“Yes, please contact me with anything at all. I will do everything I can to assist you as treasured clients,” you declared respectfully before standing back up straight.
“Thank you, Ms. Jo, and of course thank you very much too, Ms. Y/L/N,” Mr. Suh was the one who acknowledged your words.  “We will be sure to contact you as needed. I’m Johnny Suh and this is my business partner, Na Jaemin.”
“It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Suh, Mr. Na.”
“Shall we eat, then?” Ms. Haseul suggested, prompting all of you to sit at the private table.
You took the same seat as you did before, a prick of disappointment in your chest as Johnny, not Jaemin, sat across from you. It took everything in you not to scoff and roll your eyes at yourself. What exactly would Jaemin sitting across from you accomplish? It’s not like you could do anything that indicated your knowing him prior to this meeting, especially not in the way that you do.
After drinks had been brought out and your appetizer orders were put in, Ms. Haseul began pushing her chair back, “Excuse me for a moment; ladies’ room.”
A few silent moments after she departed the private room, Mr. Suh had already finished off his drink and grabbed his empty glass. He shook it to make the ice inside clink, “I’m going to get a refill at the bar. Ms. Y/L/N, Jaemin, anything for you two while I’m there?”
“Oh, no thank you, Mr. Suh,” you hurriedly shook your head, nervous fingers twitching around your own half-full glass.
“Jaemin?”
He waved off his business partner, “I’m good, Johnny. But thank you.”
“‘Course,” he too, then exited the room.
Leaving just you and your Hades.
You finally spoke to Jaemin for the first time since being introduced, leaning forward to ask quietly, “Jaemin, don’t take this the wrong way but what the fuck are you doing here?”
A smirk came to his lips, “I told you I own a legitimate business.”
“You’re not expecting me to believe that this is an honest coincidence, are you?”
“No, of course not.” Any teasing immediately dropped out of his tone. “I obviously know what firm you work at, the best in the city. Why would I not hire the best firm in the city for my business? It would be irresponsible not to.”
“Did you request Ms. Haseul be your attorney?”
“No, she was recommended by the managing partner. And again, it would be irresponsible of me to not heed the recommendation to the best, most promising junior partner who specializes in corporate matters.”
With your worries somewhat placated, you relaxed back in your seat, “Fine. Thank you for telling me the truth.”
“Of course,” Jaemin reached across the table to brush his fingertips over the back of your hand. His fingers sparkled even in the dim light of the restaurant from the multitude of rings across his knuckles, as did yours. “I’m sorry. Does this make you uncomfortable? I’m sure we can use another attorney at the firm if you’d like. Mr. Moon mentioned a different partner too, uh, Ms. Kang?”
“And let Lee Jeno be your case manager? Absolutely not.” You retorted.
He chuckled at that, switching to smoothing circles into your skin, “Thank you, Y/N.”
“Yeah, yeah. So, your business partner, ‘Mr. Suh,’ is he... another god?”
“Smart, as always. Aphrodite.”
“I thought Aphrodite was a woman.”
“Sometimes,” he shrugged nonchalantly. “He seems to like this form right now. Changes it up every century or two.”
You mulled over this information in your mind. It certainly explained your initial idea that ‘Mr. Suh’ must’ve been some kind of model. And yet, as you looked over Jaemin’s features, you came to the conclusion that the goddess of beauty had nothing on your Hades and his haunting elegance.
“I see that you got the necklace,” he changed gears in the conversation, nodding towards where the jewel sat on your chest, easily seen with the top you were wearing.
You reached up to touch the jewelry in question, “Yes, thank you. It’s beautiful.”
“It looks even more stunning on you than I thought it would.”
“Jaemin...” You were supposed to have said his name in warning, but as your skin grew hot with equal parts embarrassment and giddiness, it came out as more of a whine.
The sound of heels clicking outside made you jerk your hand back from his, placing both of your own in your lap just a moment before Ms. Haseul opened the door. Your Hades nonchalantly picked up his drink again.
Ms. Haseul took stock of just you and Jaemin in the room, “Where’s Mr. Suh?”
“He went to get his drink refilled at the bar,” Jaemin explained as your boss took her seat once more. “Should be back soon.”
Right then the door opened once again, and the blonde man entered, amber brown drink in hand.
“Ah, speak of the devil,” your Hades let out a short laugh. “Were your ears burning, Johnny?”
“Oh, you all were talking about me?” The man grinned. “I hope you weren’t poisoning them against me, Jaemin.”
“Only bad things, John, you know that.”
“Why must you wound me at every opportunity?”
“Because you give me so many.”
You giggled at their banter, feeling yourself become a little more comfortable with your Hades there.
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At the end of the dinner, after Mr. Suh had paid the bill at his insistence, the four of you were stood at the front of the restaurant.
“Thank you again for paying, Mr. Suh,” you bowed your head to him.
“No worries, I was happy to,” he waved off your thanks.
“It was a pleasure to meet you both, Ms. Jo, Ms. Y/L/N,” Jaemin spoke up, dazzling grin sweeping you off your feet for a moment. “We’re looking forward to working with you and your firm.”
“As are we,” Ms. Haseul said graciously. “I’m afraid we must be going. I have to take Y/L/N home before attending to something urgent.”
“Oh Ms. Haseul, you can go take care of whatever you need to, I’ll take a cab,” you assured her. “Please, you’ve done so much for me tonight, I can worry about getting myself home.”
“Very well, if you’re sure. Thank you, Y/L/N. See you in the morning,” she gave both you and the two gentlemen with you a final wave goodbye. “Goodnight, everyone.”
She hurried to the black company car that was parked just a little further down the block.
“I’ll go get the car,” Mr. Suh said to Jaemin. “Jaemin, if you could assist Ms. Y/L/N in hailing a cab.”
“Of course.”
And with that, Mr. Suh took off around the building towards the parking deck on the other side of the restaurant. And for the second time that night, you were alone with your Hades.
He stepped up towards the edge of the sidewalk, holding out a hand to passing traffic. You took the quiet moment as an opportunity to observe Jaemin, letting yourself bask in his presence. That same stubborn lock of his black hair had come out of place during dinner was now falling in his eyes. A nearby streetlight illuminated him from above, his unearthly features awash in a soft glow. Jaemin was stoically focused on the task at hand, a satisfied smile crossing his face as a taxi pulled over and stopped right in front of the two of you.
Wordlessly, he opened the back door for you.
“Thank you, Jaemin,” you stepped up to the vehicle.
“See you in a few, angel.”
“Right. See you.”
You climbed into the taxi, Jaemin’s cool hand on the small of your back as you did so. He gave you a wink before closing the door behind you.
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The cab stopped in front of your apartment building, and you quickly paid the driver before getting out. Your apartment door swung closed behind you, and you locked up before making your way further into your home. Knowing that Jaemin would be arriving soon, you quickly kicked off your shoes and went to get into your pajamas.
Right as you walked back out of your bedroom, you heard your name being called from the living room. Turning the corner, you couldn’t help the smile that immediately came to your face when you saw your Hades standing there. He was in the same outfit as dinner, and your heart started thudding at the image of such a handsome man being there, in your living room.
“Jaemin,” you said his name in delight.
He’d just turned around before you got to him, catching him in a hug. Jaemin’s arms immediately wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush to him. Yours were around his neck, squeezing him tight, happy to just feel him there in your arms.
“Well, hey there,” he laughed. “Did you not just see me ten minutes ago?”
“I know, but I couldn’t do this ten minutes ago.”
“You could’ve, but your boss might’ve had a couple questions.”
“And she’d probably have a couple more if I did this.” You pulled your head back from where it was resting in the crook between his neck and shoulder, so that you could be face-to-face. With no hesitation, you threaded the fingers of one hand in the back of his hair and pulled his mouth to yours.
Your Hades smiled against your lips, thumbs rubbing circles into your hips. With his grip on your waist, he could easily guide you with him down the hall towards your bedroom, mouth still locked with yours.
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You were sat on your kitchen counter later that night, passing a spoon back and forth with Jaemin to polish off the last of your ice cream.
“Does Mr. Suh—? Aphrodite? What should I call him?” You cut yourself off with a thoughtful frown, stumbling over what exactly to call the god-slash-client you’d met tonight.
“Johnny is fine since it’s just you and me right now,” Jaemin accepted the spoon you held out to him.
“Does Johnny know? About me, and what we actually are?”
Your Hades swallowed the spoonful he’d just popped into his mouth, returning the utensil to you, “No, I had no reason to tell him when you and I first made our agreement and now… if I told him he’d think I made the deal for your soul, no matter what I said. He likes to think that he gives me the benefit of the doubt, but he doesn’t.”
“Mm… Alright, I trust that you know him better than I do.”
“Yeah, for thousands of years. He’s a good business partner, but he can be a condescending little bitch.”
You couldn’t help but snicker at this, “Really?”
“Yeah, Johnny usually handles the client-facing side of the company while I do the back-office stuff, because according to him I ‘give clients the heebie-jeebies.’”
“You are the god of the dead, Jaemin,” you reminded him with a giggle, wiping away a stray drop of ice cream at the corner of his pout.
“I know, and that’s what makes us great business partners. I don’t want to do client meetings, I’m not good at them, he loves them, he wants to do them. Vice versa for the back-office things. But he said that like I didn’t know that already when this whole operation was my idea anyway. I factored my heebie-jeebies into the plan. The heebie-jeebies were accounted for long before he ever came into the picture, and he gently put his hand on my shoulder like he was the first person to ever explain this to me.”
“Oh of course. The audacity, to underestimate your business acumen and foresight to calculate for heebie-jeebies.” You nodded, putting on your best serious face despite the urge to laugh.
Jaemin looked you dead in the eye, then sighed, “You can laugh, Y/N.”
You immediately let out a round of giggles, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, hearing you say heebie-jeebies so much, and so seriously I just—”
“You’re right, it’s a bit juvenile,” he shook his head, face finally cracking into a smile as he plunged the spoon back into the ice cream container.
“A warning would’ve been nice, by the way.”
“A warning?” Your Hades asked through a mouthful of ice cream. “For what?”
“That you were hiring Ms. Haseul as your attorney. I understand why you’d want to use her, but not why you chose not to give me at least a little heads-up.”
He shrugged, “I thought it’d be a fun surprise.”
“Fun for you or for me?” You scoffed.
“Would you believe me if I said you?” Jaemin dug up another big spoonful of ice cream, holding it out for you this time.
“Would you believe me if I said I believed that?” You rolled your eyes, but opened your mouth for him to feed you anyway.
“No, not at all.”
A glance at your microwave clock made you sigh. It was late. You should be getting to bed, you still had two more days in your work week.
Jaemin had just turned to throw the empty ice cream carton in the trash, and thinking of work reminded you of plans you’d made with your coworkers.
Swinging your feet lightly from your perch on your countertop, you spoke up again, “Heads up, Friday is after work drinks for the support staff again. My turn DD’ing for the Terrible Two.”
“Noted.” Your Hades walked back over to you. You reached out for his forearms, dragging, pulling, and rearranging him until he was standing between your knees, allowing you to wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly to you, surrounded by the warm scents of cinnamon, bergamot, and cedar. Jaemin kept talking as he looped his arms around your waist, voice low, quiet, and right beside your ear, “Also, isn’t that phrase supposed to be ‘the terrible twos’ and refer to toddlers who throw tantrums?”
“Yeah, but it was one of the nicknames Jeno and I got in undergrad from a professor of ours. The full title was specifically ‘The Terrible Two of You.’” You hummed wistfully at the fond memories that cropped up, eyes fluttering shut as your muscles relaxed more and more in your comforting position. “Dr. Go, one of the best professors I’ve ever had. We ended up taking like three or four of his classes, and I had one more in grad school.”
“Sounds like you two were nuisances to the poor man for four years straight.”
“He was one of those professors that treated students like actual human beings, and you could joke around with. Hence, the nickname. I promise we were good students and the man adored us. Well, me, at least. Jeno on the other hand…”
“You always say the meanest things about that guy and he’s never around to defend himself,” Jaemin clicked his tongue teasingly. “So it sounds like I’ll be bringing bagels Saturday morning then?”
“Please?”
“Of course, angel,” he murmured, rubbing a hand up and down your back.
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“Okay Jeno, here you go,” you patted your friend’s back before taking his arm off from where it had been looped around your shoulders, giving him a gentle push to deposit him face-down onto his bed.
Getting him up to the third floor of his building wasn’t so bad this time, he was able to support his own weight for the most part and needed you primarily to make sure he didn’t veer into a wall or trip over his own feet. But he did seem to think that knocking his apartment key from your hand while you tried to unlock his front door was a fun little game.
“I recommend changing into pajamas before going to sleep,” you said from where you stood at his bedside, looking down at him as he twisted around to squint up at you.
“Good idea, Y/N,” Jeno nodded, sitting up in his bed. “That’s why you… why you got that degree.”
“Of course. I got my Master of Legal Studies solely to give you sage advice when you’re drunk.”
As Jeno grabbed at the hem of his shirt, presumably to take heed of said sage advice, you quickly turned, shielding your eyes and heading for the bedroom door.
“I’ll grab you some water and medication. Let me know when you’re done.”
After filling up a water bottle and grabbing medication for the imminent nausea and future headache, you waited in the hall outside your friend’s room. He yelled out something that sounded like a ‘Ready!’ and you hesitantly tried the door handle. Opening the bedroom door again, you were relieved to see that Jeno was at least decent. Sure, his t-shirt was on backwards, but he was wearing pants, which was your main concern. No need for a repeat of Nu Kappa Theta’s Halloween party your sophomore year: plastered Jeno, DD you, and a missing pair of boxers. Needless to say, you were scarred for life, and Jeno couldn’t remember anything from that night past arriving at the NuKapp house still fully clothed. Lucky bastard.
You set the water and meds down on his nightstand to guide him back over to sit down on the edge of the bed. Kneeling on his bed behind him, you prepared to turn his shirt around the right way.
“Come on, arms up.”
He did as you asked, and you only took it off his arms, flipping it around at his neck before working on getting his arms back into the sleeves.
“Arms down.”
And his arms flopped back down obediently in his lap.
“Are you 23 or 3, dude?” You snickered.
“I can put a shirt on, Y/N!” His voice was practically a whine, but his movements had no umph to them as he let you manhandle him like changing a child.
“Apparently not, Jeno.”
He was quiet as you finally got the other arm in, and he straightened out the torso of the shirt himself.
“Alright, there you go.” You patted his shoulder before climbing off his bed to grab the water and medication once more. “You didn’t drink enough that I feel concerned about alcohol poisoning so I’m not going to make you puke your guts out tonight.”
“I ‘preciate that.”
“Me too. So, pills for you to keep it all down… and pills for the bitch of a headache coming your way in the morning,” you pointed at each in turn as you held out the tablets. After he grabbed those, you gave him the bottle. “And water. Wash them down then have a few more sips before going to sleep, please.”
“You’re the best,” Jeno mumbled before putting the tabs in his mouth. He knocked them back with the water then started to lay down in bed, “He’s lucky to have you. And I’m lucky to have you, too.”
Your friend had been trying to pull the covers up over himself, except he was also on top of them. Amused, you began assisting him as you entertained his drunk ramblings, “He who?”
“Th’ guy you’re seein’, duh!” His words were slurring together at this point as he let you tuck him in. “Th’ one with all th’ rings ‘n stuff. We’re lucky t’ have you, Y/N.”
“Thank you, Jeno.” You sat beside him on the bed to brush some of his hair out of his face as his eyes started fluttering shut.
“Even if… even if you won’ let me… meet ‘im. ‘M lucky… t’ be your bes’ friend.”
You let out a bittersweet sigh at that, your hand coming to stillness on his head as he completely fell asleep. He knew you were keeping something from him and was letting you bring it to him at your own pace, and you loved him for that. And he really was your best friend, you’d seen each other through everything of the past nearly six years. The Dynamic Duo, Trouble and Make it Double, The Terrible Two of You. You’d sign up for classes together to make sure you’d sync up your schedules as much as possible, pulled innumerable all-nighters in the library together, were roommates in your first off-campus apartment, done your undergraduate research together, you were there when he got the news of his grandfather passing, and you were certain he’d kept creepy guys off you at parties more times than you’d ever know.
“And I’m lucky to be yours, Lee Jeno,” you said quietly to his sleeping form, watching his even, shallow breaths.
Usually everything was simple with Jeno. Your friendship with Jeno was always simple, even the stuff that felt complicated or heavy at the time, the solution was simple: talk to him. When you’d dropped his phone in the street and it got ran over, absolutely shattering the screen; when you’d forgotten to pay the power bill for your shared apartment one month and your electricity was turned off for a day; when it was his turn to DD at a party, you were a little more than tipsy and ended up making out with his brother Mark. It all worked out because the two of you had talked.
But this time… you were dating a client of the firm. A client of your attorney. A client who was a god. Admittedly, you’d started your relationship before he’d become a client. But again, he was Hades. Then there was how exactly you’d met. Even just thinking about which parts to tell, how much to tell, and what you’d inevitably have to bend, twist, or straight up lie about to Jeno made your head spin.
There at least was nothing you could do tonight.
So you gave his hair one last ruffle before standing up and walking over to his dresser. Your plans had initially been to go back to your own apartment, but you didn’t want to traverse the streets all alone this late at night. Is at least what you told yourself. Really, you’d been missing your best friend. After grabbing a couple articles of clothing that could serve as pajamas, you also stole the second pillow from his bed and a spare blanket before heading out of his bedroom.
You quietly shut the door behind you, setting the bedding down on the couch and changing clothes in the bathroom. After going around to turn off all the lights in the apartment and double check the locks on the front door, you finally laid down for the night. In the low light, you found yourself looking over all the rings and things adorning your hands and wrists. They were all gorgeous, but you still favored the simple silver band, the first one Jaemin ever gave you, to seal the deal you had made the night he appeared to you.
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A robotic melody took your focus away from the document on your monitor that you had been drafting. You glanced over at the screen of your office phone, the source of the ringing. ‘RECEPTION’ was emblazoned across it in all caps.
Holding the receiver to your ear with your shoulder, you grabbed for your telephone notepad and a pen, “This is Y/N.”
“Hey Y/N!” The bright voice of the firm’s receptionist, Somi, greeted you. “There’s a Mr. Johnny Suh on line 1 for you.”
“Great, I’ll take him, thank you!”
“No problem.”
You scrawled down Mr. Suh’s name and number from the caller ID on your notepad before pressing the button for his hold, “Thank you for holding, this is Y/L/N Y/N.”
“Hi, Ms. Y/L/N, this is Johnny Suh, how are you?”
“I’m good, Mr. Suh, thank you. How are you?”
“Only thing that’s changed is the weather, you know?” He chuckled.
You gave a short laugh, not entirely sure what he meant by that but needing to build your rapport anyway, “And how can I help you?”
“I am looking to schedule a meeting with you for us to discuss some assets. When are you available next week?”
“Let’s see…” You pulled up your calendar. “Just myself or Ms. Haseul as well?”
“Just you, Ms. Jo has assured us of your capabilities.”
“Oh, thank you, Mr. Suh,” you were warmed at the indirect praise. You couldn’t believe how much Ms. Haseul had apparently talked you up to these clients. “I’m free next Monday afternoon, Tuesday until 1:00, and all day Wednesday and Thursday.”
“Wednesday should be fine. 10:00 a.m.?”
“Yes sir, I have you down for Wednesday at 10:00. Will it be just you in attendance or is Mr. Na coming as well?”
“Actually, it will just be Jaemin. I have prior arrangements that day.”
“Understood,” you made the correction on your notes. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“No, that is all I needed from you, Ms. Y/L/N. Thank you for your time.”
“Of course, sir, thank you for calling.”
“Have a good day.”
“You too, goodbye.”
With that, you hung up, immediately pressing the quick-dial button for reception.
“Hey Y/N!” Somi was as cheery as ever when she picked up.
“Hi, Somi, what do conference room bookings look like for next Wednesday at 10:00 a.m.? Just two people in attendance.”
“Obsidian is open, or—”
“Obsidian will be fine,” you immediately jumped at her words. “I have a client meeting: Mr. Na Jaemin from Olympus Investments.”
“Okay, you are all booked for 10:00 a.m. on Wednesday.”
“Thank you very much, Somi.”
“You’re welcome, Y/N. Is that it?”
“Yes, thanks,” you put the phone back on the receiver in order to use both hands to enter the details in your calendar.
‘Client Meeting w/ Mr. Na Jaemin; re: assets; Obsidian Conference Room’
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“Oh shit,” Yangyang frowned, tossing the coffee cup he had just picked up into his trashcan. “I’m out of coffee. Anybody coming to the breakroom with me?”
Jeno pushed his chair back from his desk with a groan, “Sure, if I don’t take a lap before replying to this email I just got, somebody’s going to get their feelings hurt.”
“Y/N?”
You shook your head, eyes still on your screen as you printed off a couple copies of the documents you’d need, “Would if I could, but I’ve got a client meeting in a few minutes.”
“Who?”
“Uh, Mr. Na Jaemin, CFO of Olympus Investments. General corporate client of Ms. Haseul’s.”
“Gross, sounds boring,” Yangyang wrinkled his nose. “I’ll keep you in my prayers.”
“Thanks, Yang,” you rolled your eyes.
Just then, your desk phone rang, and you grabbed it without taking your eyes off your screen as you printed a couple more things, “This is Y/L/N Y/N.”
“Hey Y/N!” It was Somi. “Mr. Na Jaemin is here for his 10:00 appointment with you. I’ve gone ahead and set up Obsidian for you two, he’s waiting in the lobby.”
“Can you let him know I’ll be there in just a couple minutes?”
“Of course.”
“Thanks, Somi!”
You hung up, standing and grabbing all your materials from your desk, then off the printer. Momentarily stopping to organize your papers, you then made your way to the reception area, flashing Somi a smile before your eyes landed on him, on your Hades.
Keeping a straight spine and formal bow of your head, you greeted him politely, “Good morning, Mr. Na, it’s a pleasure to see you again. Welcome to Kim & Moon.”
“Good morning, Ms. Y/L/N. Thank you, thank you,” Jaemin bowed back, flashing you a dazzling grin once he’d stood back up. “Shall we?”
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“You can’t do that.” You shook your head at the business proposal you’d just heard from Jaemin. The two of you were deep into your meeting about reviewing Olympus Investment’s plans for renegotiating assets in the next quarter.
Jaemin’s brow furrowed in confusion, shifting forward in his spot across the table from you as he pointed to some numbers on his paper, “Of course we can, there’s plenty of assets to pull from—”
“Doesn’t matter, courts say no you can’t. There was a ruling ten, fifteen years ago now that’s been used as precedent in a swath of multi-billion dollar cases since. I actually studied this particular case law quite a bit because—hey!” You cut off your own excited rambling with a snap of your fingers in the space created by the table between yours and Jaemin’s faces.
Jaemin blinked at you innocently, “What?”
“Stop admiring me with that lovestruck grin on your face and listen, this is important.”
“I’m admiring and listening, I can multitask,” he countered teasingly, picking up his pen again. “Anyway, continue.”
“I studied this particular piece of case law in depth because I had a professor who was one of the attorneys who argued the original ruling. It’s a common thing that companies looking to redistribute assets will try to do. And you can’t.”
“You’re right.” Your Hades was beaming at you.
“About this? Of course I am,” you snorted, flicking through your papers to find what you needed to review next.
“Well yes, but I meant about you being good at your job.”
A smile crept across your lips as you continued busying yourself with looking for your papers.
After your meeting had concluded, you walked Jaemin back to the lobby, giving him a final business-appropriate goodbye before turning around to make your way to your desk. You nearly jumped out of your skin when you saw Jeno seemingly waiting for you back behind the reception area. Suppressing your lovestruck grin, you approached your friend and started meandering back to your desks with him.
“Who was that, Y/N?” He nodded back towards the lobby.
“Mr. Na, the corporate client of Ms. Haseul’s I was telling you about earlier,” you desperately tried to keep your voice level and nonchalant as you talked about Jaemin. “I said I had a client meeting this morning.”
“And I was expecting like an eighty-year-old man,” Jeno snorted. “That guy looked like he was—I don’t know maybe five, ten years older than us at the most?”
“I’m… sorry to disappoint you?”
“But like something was… off about him. Right?”
“What?”
“You know how people say that one actor looks like a haunted Victorian doll?”
“…Yeah.”
“He kind of looks like that but— what’s older than the Victorian era?”
“I don’t know? The Dark Ages?” You suggested, looking at him with a raised eyebrow as you could only imagine where the hell this conversation was going.
“Yeah!” Your friend’s eyes lit up mischievously. “He looks like a possessed doll from the Dark Ages that’s had like five unsuccessful exorcisms done on him.”
“Oh my god Jeno.”
“Oh come on, you can’t say I’m wrong!”
“I can say that this is an extremely unprofessional thing to be saying about a client.”
“Oh look at you Ms. Professional Paralegal who isn’t disagreeing with me,” he snickered. “Anyway, you seem to have good rapport with him.”
“What do you mean?” You could feel your back stiffen with alarm. How long was Jeno standing there in the lobby watching you and Jaemin? Had you done anything that belied the true nature of your relationship? If you did then Somi would have seen it too. God, you did not need to be the next topic of office gossip.
“Ms. Haseul let you have that client meeting on your own. Both she and the client must trust you lots. Congrats.”
Immediately, your shoulders relaxed, “Oh, thanks. Yeah, it’s going well.”
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Monthly after-work drinks with your coworkers—the one you actually liked—had become part of your routine, one that you looked forward to. Almost as much as you looked forward to the myriad of ways Jaemin insisted you “made up” the missing time that you “owed him.” This time, he was preemptively making up the forfeited time, as he had spent the night before and was now staying the morning of.
Somewhere between starting your coffee maker and putting the last dish from breakfast away in the sink, you had been pinned between Jaemin and said sink, a warning not to mess up your work clothes breathed out in the narrowing space between your mouths. Your Hades hummed out his acknowledgement against your lips, kissing you so delicately your eyes nearly rolled out of your head. Of course he had to listen to you this time.
You pulled back from kissing Jaemin as you were about to make something between a quip and a complaint when you heard a click from your front door.
“Y/N!” A familiar voice called out for you.
It all happened too quickly for you to attempt to do anything other than stare in horror at the scene unfolding before you. Lee Jeno stepped through your front door, turning around to close and lock it behind him. He was dressed for work in navy blue slacks and a light blue button up, looking down at his phone as he walked towards the kitchen. In your periphery, Jaemin looked between you and your friend with an eyebrow raised, not moving, but you couldn’t answer his unspoken question. It felt like you were outside your own body, watching a car crash about to happen and you couldn’t look away.
“I’m here! Ooh, something smells good, is that—” his words were cut short when he finally looked up from his screen just shy of the threshold to the kitchen, where you were frozen in place. Your rather lascivious place between Jaemin and the counter.
It took him an entire second to compute what was happening in front of him. Then he let out a yelp, which made you let out one of your own, a little less grating in pitch, but no less distressed. Your body was finally unpetrified, and you rushed to stand between your friend and your Hades.
“Jeno!” Your voice was half chastising and half bewildered. “What the hell are you doing in my apartment?”
“You told me where your spare key is, said I could use it any time!” His voice was still raised and pitched up in surprise.
“I figured that’s how you got in; I’m asking why the hell you’re in my apartment right now!”
“To pick you up?” He jangled his keys that were in his hand, his car fob being on the key ring, “I’m DD for tonight.”
You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose, “No, Jeno, I'm DD tonight.”
“No, I'm DD.”
“I am.”
“I’m— Wait this isn’t important, that’s Mr. Na!” He pointed behind you accusingly.
With a very visible grimace, you turned to looked behind you. Jaemin was leaning against your kitchen counter, hands resting on the edge on either side of him. With the focus now on him, he lifted one in a casual greeting, “Good morning, Jeno. It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot of good things, from Y/N.”
“Jeno, this is Na Jaemin. I’m seeing him,” you jumped in to do introductions, well aware that your voice was noticeably tight and tense. “Jaemin, this is Lee Jeno, my best friend since… it feels like forever at this point I guess.”
While your friend’s features did soften a little at how you had described him, when he had to reciprocate your Hades’ offer of goodwill, he turned suspicious again.
“Nice to meet you... uh, yeah, nice to meet you.” Jeno tersely nodded at Jaemin once before his eyes went back to you, serious. He wanted to talk. And clearly, you had a lot to talk about.
“Well, time to go to work,” you announced. “Uhm, let me grab my shoes and my phone, then I’ll be ready to go, Jeno. You don’t mind carpooling since you’re already here, right?”
“Of course not.”
Your Hades spoke up again then, “My tie is in your room, Y/N.”
The two of you had to shuffle by Jeno on your way out of the kitchen and into your bedroom. In your room, you groaned as you rooted through your closet for a pair of shoes.
“I am so sorry, Jaemin,” you whispered as you slipped on your shoes. “I had no clue he was going to come here this morning. I wanted the two of you to meet so differently.”
“It’s okay, angel,” Jaemin reassured you quietly as he tied his tie in your full-length mirror. “You said he’s your best friend, and that you and he have been able to talk through everything before. I think the two of you have got this. One lowly god isn’t going to come between the Terrible Two.”
You’d finished putting your shoes on and slipped your arms around his waist to watch him do the final adjustments to the black silk tie.
“You really believe that?” You murmured.
“I do,” he patted your hands. “I still need to get a tie clip. Now go, you can’t keep him waiting or he’s going to think we’re doing something more scandalous in here than what he walked in on.”
You rolled your eyes and let him go, knowing that unfortunately he was kind of right. As you went to walk away towards your door, Jaemin caught you by the hand, lifting said hand up so he could press a delicate, cool kiss to your fingers before finally letting you depart.
“Have a good day, Y/N. I love you.”
“I love you too, Jaemin.”
You grabbed a purse by the door of your bedroom and braced yourself for what was waiting on the other side.
Jeno was by the front door, arms crossed over his chest. He narrowed his eyes as he appraised that you were alone, “Where’s Mr. Na?”
“He’s not ready to go yet, he’ll lock up on his way out,” you told him.
And thus began your lying, your carefully chosen words to make Jeno come to certain conclusions, your bending of the truth, your ‘well it’s technically true’s. Truthfully, Jaemin would make sure your apartment was locked from the inside before disappearing from here and appearing wherever he needed to be with his god powers.
“He has a set of keys.” Jeno spat out as he opened your front door for you.
Your tone was resigned as you started towards the stairs, “Is there a question in there, Jeno?”
There were a silent few seconds as he mulled it over, then sighed, his voice much less harsh, “No, that was me being bitchy. Sorry.”
“Thanks.” The two of you began the descent to the ground floor as you continued, “And I’m sorry too. Like... really sorry. I know that must have been a lot to walk in on, you have every right to be shocked and hurt.”
“Right. Thanks, Y/N.” And you finally got a Lee Jeno smile again. It was only a small one, and it passed you by far too quick as he opened your car door for you to get in. But you saw your friend’s delightful little eye smile again, and it made you think that maybe, hopefully, Jaemin was right.
Jeno pulled away from the curb, and you kept talking.
“I also know that I haven’t been forthcoming at all about what’s been happening in my life, about who I’ve been seeing.”
“About Mr. Na,” Jeno’s words were blunt but there was no malice to them.
“Yes, about Jaemin,” you confirmed. “I’m sorry about that too. Please, please know before like anything else that we were dating for a while before he was ever a client. Those two things happened separate of each other.”
“Oh.” Your friend’s previously white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel softened. “That’s... better.”
“Like, I know that I’m being kind of stupid, but I’m not that stupid.”
“You said it, not me.”
“I want to talk about this with you more, but I really don’t think now, driving to work, is going to be able to provide us with the time nor the ability to process it. Can we get together some other time?”
“Good to see all the money you spent on that therapist after your last ex paid off,” he snickered.
“Hey, I’m trying to be an adult here!” You protested indignantly.
“No, no, it’s good,” he attempted to reassure you through poorly-suppressed chuckles. “Let’s see if we can pencil in our emotional friendship discussion re: your love life for 1:00 p.m. tomorrow?”
“I’ll have to check my calendar once we get into the office,” you rolled your eyes. Despite the fact that he was teasing you, you welcomed the light jesting, knowing that meant he wasn’t too upset at you in that moment. And he was legitimately trying to follow through on your offer of planning to sit down and discuss your issues with him, albeit with some jabs at you of course.
“Hey, since it’s about you fucking a client, do you think we can call it a business lunch and use the firm credit card?”
With the mood now officially lightened you joked, “Yeah, I’ll put that on Ms. Haseul’s expense sheet for the week and see how that goes down with Billing.”
“Shotaro would get a kick out of it at least.”
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Your apartment was quiet and dark when you got home. Jaemin hadn’t arrived yet. Pushing down your disappointment, you changed into pajamas before going to your kitchen to browse for something to make for dinner. If Jaemin wasn’t here yet, then he probably wasn’t planning on whisking you to the Underworld tonight. Fine by you, that made getting to work in the morning easier. The first night you’d spent with him in Hades had been the perfect start to your romance and you definitely didn’t regret it, but the next morning was something straight out of a rom-com.
It was difficult for your phone alarm to go off on time when time zones didn’t really exist in the literal Underworld. So you ran into work exactly on time with unwashed hair, followed around the office all morning by nosy comments from Jeno and Yangyang about that and the blouse that you were tucking into your dress pants as you were stepping off the elevator— which Jaemin had to magically poof you into, having no time to take public transport. Oh and the embarrassingly obvious love bites on your neck that you couldn’t cover up in your haste to get ready; a combination of no time to apply makeup, and carelessly choosing a top whose neckline was cut lower than the marks.
The memory made you shake your head fondly now, months later, as you opened your fridge doors. You’d barely done so when a familiar cool breath blew over the back of your neck and shell of your ear.
“Jaemin!” You exclaimed, immediately closing the fridge again then whipping around to face the god. He had a mischievous smirk already playing on his lips. “It’s been a while since you’ve snuck up on me like that. You must be in a good mood.”
“Yes, I am,” he confirmed.
You cocked your head to the side, “And why is that?”
“Because...” he took a step forward, and you instinctually took one back, quickly pinned against one of the doors. His hips pressed against yours, holding you there as his lips found yours, then your jaw, then your throat. You hummed as he continued pressing kisses along your skin, looping your arms around his neck, your search for food entirely forgotten. His hands on your waist only drew you even closer—if that was possible—fingertips brushing under the hem of your t-shirt and leaving goosebumps along your skin.
Your Hades finally detached his mouth from where he’d been sucking and nipping a mark on your collarbone, “I’m going to take you somewhere.”
“Huh?” You couldn’t help the stupefied noise that came from you.
He was standing up straight again, so close that your noses were almost touching, and you saw yourself reflected in his deep, dark irises. You looked ravished, your own pupils blown wide, mouth parted to let the deep breaths from your heaving chest out, the collar of your shirt askew to allow Jaemin access to more of your skin.
“I’m in a good mood because we’re going somewhere. Go get changed.”
You tipped your head back as you let out a groan, shaking yourself back to reality, “Why are you literally the worst?”
He chuckled as he stepped back, allowing you to push off the appliance, “Because I can be. Now go get changed. Doesn’t have to be too nice, just better than your jammies.”
With a final roll of your eyes, you left the kitchen to do as he requested. You reemerged in the living room in casual going-out clothes, “This good enough?”
“Perfect,” Jaemin offered you his hand, which you took without hesitation.
He gently spun you around, and a giggle tumbled from your mouth as you were spun right into his arms, your back to his chest. You closed your eyes on instinct as he swayed the two of you to a non-existent melody, and you drank in the sultry notes of cedar, cinnamon, and blood orange that surrounded you. His hair tickled your cheek as he started peppering light ghosts of kisses to your skin.
“Alright, you tease, come on. You said we’re going somewhere,” you lightly elbowed whatever part of him was by your arm. His rib, maybe, or that could’ve been his arm. From where you were all wrapped up in him, you couldn’t tell where you ended and he started. And despite your words of complaint, you hadn’t yet opened your eyes or even attempted to wrangle yourself from his grasp.
“I know, we’re here.”
Curiosity won out and you squinted an eye open. Holy shit, this definitely wasn’t your apartment. With wide eyes, you looked around the huge living room Jaemin had brought you to. Plush furniture, floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall windows, large dining area that connected to a kitchen that was clearly built for entertaining. The entire place had an upscale mid-century modern feel to it, and you found your eyes drawn back to the huge windows.
“Where are we?” You questioned, still taking it all in.
“My place,” Jaemin said casually, and you could feel him shrug from where he was holding you.
“This isn’t the Underworld.”
“My new place on Earth. I just got it this week.” He took one of your hands to guide you over to the windows, “Come on, look at the view.”
Spread out below you was the entire city, all twinkling lights. If you unfocused your eyes they could almost be mistaken for stars in the night sky. Your Hades stood just behind you to begin pointing out landmarks, “There’s downtown, that’s the museum you took me to, your apartment should be over that way, and there’s the river way over there.”
“It’s amazing but… why did you get it?” You questioned him, turning away from the view to look him in the eye. He’d never expressed any interest in living on Earth whatsoever, any want to get a home here.
Jaemin walked back a couple steps to lean against the arm of one of the couches, bringing you with him by your hands, “Since Johnny and I have been doing more business up here, it’s good to have a home to keep up appearances.”
“And just how many business clients are you planning on inviting back to your place, Jaemin?” You raised an eyebrow, tone expressing your immediate disbelief.
He grinned up at you in your position standing between his legs, “You caught me. Just one, you.”
“I meant, why now?” You pushed on in the conversation, not so easily distracted. “Why get a place on Earth this week?”
“Jeno.”
“You got a penthouse for Jeno? How romantic, I’ll let him know.”
Your Hades let out a soft laugh at that, looking down at your hands that he was holding, his fingertips taking a moment to adjust your rings that were slightly askew. “The entire situation that happened with him really made me think about you, and about who I am to you. And I want to be more for you than I am.”
You frowned at his words, taking back one hand to cup his cheek and have him look up at you, “What do you think you are to me?”
“I’m a secret.”
“Oh, Jaemin…” You felt your heart breaking at the way he said it. Not in a fun, flirty way, but despondent, isolated. Before you could move to say more, hold him, do anything, he spoke again.
“That’s not passing any sort of judgement on you, angel,” he assured you, squeezing the hand he had in his. “I know the secrecy comes solely from who and what I am. I know there are some things that we'll never really be able to tell everyone. And I don’t think you’ll ever be able to fully understand how much I love and adore you for keeping that between us.”
You pressed a kiss to his forehead, afraid that if you tried to speak in that moment, you’d cry.
“But I still want to be someone that you can introduce to your friends, to your family. Someone that you don’t have to agonize over keeping secret from them. I want you to get to have at least some of that, and I want to do as much as I can to help. I figured having my own place on Earth wasn’t a bad start.”
“Oh… I understand,” you held his face between both your hands, taking a step closer to narrow the distance between you two. He now had to crane his neck up to look at you. Clearing your throat and blinking a couple tears away, you smirked down at your Hades, “You want to be shown off.”
“Maybe a little,” he admitted, not a hint of bashfulness in him despite the coy words.
“Gladly. Starting with a dinner party here I think.”
“I’ll cook.”
“Penthouse and you cook? Careful, it’ll turn from an honest meet-the-boyfriend into shameless bragging.”
His hands that had previously been resting in his lap now gripped the sides of your thighs, “Oh, we both know you’re as shameless as I am.”
“Maybe so. But we’re only inviting friends of mine, no coworkers other than Jeno,” you declared. “I may be shameless, but I’m not an idiot. Still need to figure out the work part.”
“Of course,” he acquiesced with a nod of his head. Apparently thinking that the conversation was over, he pulled you fully flush to him, mouth attaching to your collarbone. Seemed he wanted to finish what he’d started in your kitchen earlier.
But you couldn’t yet let yourself sink into the pleasure of your Hades’ lips, your mind was still ruminating on the previous issue, “And let me know if you have any bright ideas, by the way. It’s your fault I’m in this mess, after all.”
Jaemin pulled back from where he’d been kissing down your sternum, about to get to the neckline of your top, “I offered to work with another attorney, but you insisted we stick with you and Ms. Haseul.”
“You picked Kim & Moon in the first place.”
“I concede, my apologies,” he sighed, entirely removing his hands from you for a moment. “And I mean it.”
“Mhm.” Satisfied with his answer, you grabbed his shoulders and crashed your lips to his.
“But isn’t it just a little fun?” He teased, giving your bottom lip a playful nip. “Knowing that you’re—gasp—seeing a client? Sneaking around?”
You groaned at the interruption, attempting to tug his suit jacket off, talk, and kiss him all at once. “I was seeing you—” kiss “before you—” kiss “were—” kiss “a client.” Kiss. “But yes, maybe a little.”
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“Good afternoon, Mr. Suh,” you greeted the goddess brightly as you crossed the room to sit across the conference table from him. “Just you today?”
The other half of Olympus Investments had called pretty much as soon as the firm had opened that morning, requesting a meeting with you as soon as you were available, and you did happen to be able accommodate him that afternoon.
“Jaemin doesn’t know I’m here.” He shifted forward in his chair, looking you in the eye so intensely you couldn’t hold the eye contact for long.
You were a little confused as you laid out your materials in front of you, “Okay... Well, what did you wish to speak with me about? Somi emphasized that this was an urgent matter. Was there something the matter with the documents I sent for your review yesterday?”
“I am so sorry, Y/N...”
Your eyebrows shot up at his words, the forlorn tone he said them in, and at the fact that this was the first time Mr. Suh had addressed you by your first name. “For what, sir?”
“That Jaemin’s done this to you.”
“I don’t understand. What has Mr. Na done?”
“Taken your soul.”
His words made you immediately sputter out, “What are you talking about? I’m sorry, I don't underst—”
“Dinner the other night wasn’t the first time you two have met,” the goddess in front of you declared, gaze piercing you as he changed from despondent to stern. “What did you ask for, Y/N? What was worth your soul?”
“I didn’t sell Jaemin my soul!” You sighed in exasperation, fully dropping all pretenses now. “All he wanted was for me to spend some time with him.”
“And what did you want?”
“A job.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes, that’s all I asked for.”
“I’m sorry about all this, Y/N. All the jewelry... I get worried.” His gaze was still appraising you, and you could tell that you didn’t quite have him convinced.
“Oh,” you twisted the plain silver band you’d first been given around on your finger nervously. “I mean, he did give me all this too, but I didn’t ask for it.”
“Why would he...” Mr. Suh’s eyes fell to the pomegranate jewel sitting below the hollow of your throat. “Ahh... I get it.”
“Get what?” You asked cautiously, now self-consciously fidgeting with the pendant once again.
“That’s a lovely color.”
“Uhm, thank you. But I can tell you mean something else by that.”
“Ha,” he chuckled, leaning back in his seat but keeping his eyes on your necklace. “He’s courting you, isn’t he?”
“Uh that might’ve been what you called it in 300 BC or whenever, but now we call it dating.”
“No, honey. I may be… old-fashioned but I know the difference between dating and courting. Jaemin does too. Do you?”
“What?”
He nodded towards your necklace, “Ask him about the meaning of that color next time you see him.”
Your skin prickled uncomfortably; you didn’t like that Mr. Suh apparently knew more about your relationship than you did. “Did you have any actual business for me, Mr. Suh?”
“Oh, no. I’ll get out of your hair now. Sorry, hon.”
You stood up as he did, showing him out wordlessly to the lobby.
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Walking into work some weeks later, you saw Jeno, Yangyang, Kun, and Sicheng gathered around yours and Yangyang’s desks. Not too unusual of a sight, especially considering the matching coffee cups they all had.
“Good morning, boys,” you greeted the four of them brightly, setting all your stuff down on your desk.
When you looked up from where your fond gaze had lingered over your keys, the shiny new one to Jaemin’s place on Earth there, you were met with silence.
“What?”
“Here, uhm, it was my turn to buy coffee this week,” Yangyang handed you a cup from the shop down the street from the firm.
You took it, a little alarmed that he wasn’t doing his usual complaining about being “forced” to buy coffee for “the bourgeois” (Kun and Sicheng) when they could definitely afford it and truly he was just being “exploited” (despite the five of you all rotating out who bought coffee for the group once a week).
“Uh, thanks,” you took a sip, not liking his wide eyes, Kun’s pained ones, Sicheng’s inquisitive gaze, and Jeno’s knowing look that usually meant the two of you needed to talk ASAP. “Okay, what, you guys?”
“Ms. Haseul wants to see you,” Yangyang was still speaking.
“Okay…”
That wasn’t unusual, you were her paralegal, you frequently were called into her office by yourself to have discussions and they never garnered reactions like this from your coworkers.
Kun rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly, calmly explaining, “She told Yangyang to have you come into her office once you arrived regarding an issue on the Olympus Investments file. Said to make sure you knew it was urgent and severe.”
Your grip tightened on your coffee cup. Jeno’s jaw clenched as he gave you a very much ‘I told you so’ look.
“Then why the fuck did you guys make me play 20 questions with you if it’s that fucking serious? God, I have to go see her!” You set your cup down, briefly checking the phones to see if she was on a landline call. Her quick dial button wasn’t lit up, meaning that she wasn’t, and you grabbed a notepad and pen just in case. Maybe this was about something solely work-related, and not about you seeing a client and breaking company policy. One could only hope.
After speed-walking down the hall, you stopped outside her door to listen for a moment for any sign that she was on the phone or had someone else in her office. It was quiet, and you took another moment to inhale deeply through your nose, then exhale, composing yourself. Rapping your knuckles on her door, you waited for her reply.
“Come in.”
You opened the door, bowing your head respectfully, “Good morning, Ms. Haseul. Yangyang told me you wanted to see me regarding Olympus Investments.”
“Yes, sit, Y/L/N,” she gestured to one of the chairs across her desk from her.
You could feel her sharp eyes on you as you did so.
“I’m going to get straight to the point. Out of gratitude for the work you’ve done in your time here, I’m going to ask you only once and I of course expect the truth. Are you romantically involved with Mr. Na Jaemin?”
To your credit, your jaw didn’t drop. Part of you was expecting this, of course. You breathed in, taking a moment to think about how to phrase your response, “Yes, Ms. Haseul.”
She sighed, taking her glasses off and setting them on her desk. As your boss rubbed her brow and remained quiet, you felt anxiety creeping up through your veins.
Figuring that you were as good as fired anyway, you at least wanted to know how long you’d been made for, when and where you went wrong. “Ma’am? May I ask when— How long you’ve known?”
“Y/L/N…” She clicked her tongue and leaned back in her chair. “I’ve known the whole time. And I know you’ve been seeing him since before he became a client of ours as well.”
“I’m so sor—”
Your boss cut you off with a wave of her hand, “Don’t apologize, please. Aside from not telling me the next business day as you should have, you’ve been incredibly professional about this the entire time. Honestly, nothing about your behavior or work product is how I know.”
“Then how?” You asked, brows furrowing together.
“The first client dinner we had with Mr. Suh and Mr. Na. When we went to greet them, I caught a whiff of Mr. Na’s cologne, and it was remarkably familiar to me. Because you’d come in to the office in the mornings frequently smelling like it before that dinner.”
“Please don’t take this the wrong way but… why wait until now to address it?”
“Would you believe me if I said that I didn’t know how to bring it up?”
You were nearly speechless. It was hard to imagine Ms. Haseul not knowing what to do.
“I don’t… I don’t know what to say.”
“Anyway, like I said, you’ve been the model of professionalism; your client relations—in the office—have been impeccable, and your work product is the same high quality I expect to see from my employees. We of course need to address that you did not inform me of this conflict the next business day as is firm policy, but I see no reason to take any further action than that nor remove you as case manager for Olympus Investments.”
“Ma’am?” Now your jaw was on the floor, your eyes practically bugging out of your head.
“Both Mr. Na and Mr. Suh report being incredibly satisfied with your work. Therefore, as long as that continues then I am fine with having you stay on as their case manager, with your conflict of interest being properly noted in the file, of course. But as soon as any issues arise or you feel as though your conflict is affecting your ability to do your job, you will report that to me. Do you understand, Y/L/N?”
“Of course, Ms. Haseul,” you bowed your head as deeply as you could from your seat. “Thank you so much.”
“You’re dismissed, Y/L/N.”
“Right. Thank you again, Ms. Haseul,” you leapt to your feet, bowing once more now that you were standing before exiting her office.
Walking back out to where your desk was, the guys were exactly where you left them, clearly pretending to be doing anything else other than waiting to see if you got fired. Jeno, however, immediately zeroed his focus in on you as you approached them, the others soon joining suit to varying degrees of shamelessness.
You gave them two covert middle fingers down by your sides, “Fuck you guys, I still work here.”
“Oh thank god,” Jeno breathed out as you fully entered the pod of desks, pulling you into a hug.
“Hell yeah!” Yangyang jumped to his feet to join in, squeezing the two of you with reckless abandon. “The Atrocious Trio lives on!”
“Did you just invite yourself into our friendship, Yangyang?” You asked incredulously as Jeno shoved him out of the group hug.
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You had just finished relaying the news to Jaemin that night—that Ms. Haseul knew, and had known the whole time, about your relationship—over dinner at his place on Earth. He claimed he wanted to test out some recipes before you had your meet-the-boyfriend dinner with your friends there.
Truly, it was a relief to have this weight off your chest, but that didn’t make it any less mortifying to relive possibly the most nerve-wracking meeting of your career yet. If you never had to feel like that again for the rest of your life, it would be too soon.
“Your boss is quite astute, huh,” Jaemin commented as he picked up your empty plate to start cleaning up after dinner, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.
“Real bloodhound, that one,” you muttered, standing up as well to grab the drained wine glasses. “And I can see that smirk, Jaemin.”
“Damn,” he clicked his tongue as he began washing the dishes, fully letting his dashing grin overtake his features. “Nothing gets past you either, angel.”
“I’d say that’s why they hired me but—” you gestured at him vaguely.
“That’s why they keep you around, even after such a scandal.”
“You are so—” You cut yourself off with a sigh, feeling how big the smile was on your face as you came to settle in beside him, dish towel in hand, knowing that your words had no punch when paired with how adoringly you were looking at him.
You dutifully dried each dish he handed you until the kitchen was cleaned up. The two of you were in a comfortable quiet, your Hades humming softly as he finished washing up, then took the towel from you and dried off his hands. With your own hands free, your fingers habitually found the pomegranate red gem hanging from your neck. Johnny’s words bounced around in your head. You hadn’t brought it up to Jaemin after, wanting to mull it over with yourself for a bit longer first. Wait until you were in the right headspace to address what the hell that conversation was even about.
“Guess that means we’ll be having more guests then?”
“Huh?” You asked lamely, not following Jaemin’s sudden question at all.
“For dinner,” your Hades clarified, walking towards the bedroom, and you followed him down the hall as he kept speaking. “You didn’t want to invite any coworkers other than Jeno before. But since Ms. Jo told you she knows, you’ll be inviting coworkers, right?”
“Oh. Uh, I guess. Maybe the ones I get drinks with,” you answered absentmindedly. “Or just the team. I don’t know.”
“Think about it, angel,” Jaemin squeezed your hand briefly before dropping it and moving over to the dresser to grab lounge clothes. “Guess I should tell Johnny, then. Funny, goddess of love is the only one who doesn’t know.”
But you most definitely weren’t thinking about the guest list for some dinner as you two did your separate nighttime routines. Your mind felt like it was in another galaxy, wrapped up in flashes of dazzling obsidian black and pomegranate red, dancing in bergamot, cedar wood, and cinnamon sticks. Courting. You’d done your obligatory dictionary reading the same day as your meeting with Johnny: to have a romantic relationship with someone one hopes to marry. Not engagement, not dating, something in between, somehow less and more.
Your eyes got caught on the necklace again in the bathroom mirror, finishing up at your sink at the dual vanity.
In the bedroom, Jaemin was sitting up against the headboard, legs crossed at the ankle and the wall sconce on his side turned on to illuminate the book he was reading—a collection of Edgar Allan Poe’s short stories, borrowed from you.
“Jaemin,” you called out for him quietly, leaning in the threshold of the bathroom.
“Yes?” He looked up at you attentively.
You nodded to the book in his lap, “Which one are you on?”
“‘MS. Found in a Bottle.’” Your Hades patted the spot beside him, “You want me to read for you, angel?”
“In a second.” You reached for your pendant. “Gems have meanings sometimes, right? In different cultures. Other than just being an expensive status symbol.”
He raised an eyebrow, “Yes. Why?”
“What about this one? The necklace you gave me.” You held it up, watching the dark red stone gleam as it caught the light.
He tucked his bookmark into the tome and fully put it aside on the nightstand, “Johnny’s spoken with you.”
“He came to the firm the other day freaking out thinking you’d taken my soul in exchange for riches,” you admitted, feeling a little guilty. “Sorry I didn’t uh, tell you before.”
“It’s okay. Sounds like you two had an interesting conversation.”
“Yeah. I told him that I didn’t sell you my soul for the jewelry, but he didn’t seem to believe me until he saw this one. Said to ask you about the color.”
Jaemin chuckled, “Mm, of course he did. The ego.”
You walked across the bedroom, stopping by his side of the bed. Tilting your head inquisitively, you asked, “Are you going to explain or just keep making cryptic statements, Jaemin?”
“Third option: Cryptic question. What color do you think it is, Y/N?”
“To me... it looks like fresh pomegranate seeds. Pomegranate red.”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking when I gave it to you,” your Hades nodded, a tender smile overtaking his more cynical one from when he was talking about his business partner. “The meaning that Johnny wanted you to ask about. According to one version of a myth, the first pomegranate tree came about from Aphrodite’s mourning of the death of a lover. Pomegranate juice came to symbolize love.”
“I already know that you love me, Jaemin,” you told him frankly, taking a step closer to the bed.
“Well good, something would be very, very wrong with me if you didn’t.”
“And I also know that we’re going in circles around the point right now.” Another step.
“We are.”
“He specifically used the word courting.” Another step. You were now directly beside him, at his nightstand, casting a shadow over his face.
Jaemin looked absolutely delighted to be cornered, both in conversation and literally. He always enjoyed your dialogues like this, as did you, or else you wouldn’t participate. The pushing and pulling, the back and forth, it was the nature of you and your Hades, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Because at the end of it, everything was always out on the table, laid bare, open and honest.
“You got me, angel,” he held his hands up in defeat. “I’m all yours, now and for eternity, if you’ll have me. And I don’t need an answer about eternity right now of course, but will you let me start trying to convince you?”
You wound the necklace chain around your knuckles thoughtfully, “I want you to tell me something, Jaemin, before I answer you.”
“An answer for an answer.” He was looking up at you with a familiar fond, tender smile, “Of course, angel, anything.”
There was something itching at the back of your mind, that never quite made sense to you, as you came to know your Hades better over all this time, fell in love with him, something that just seemed… out of place. Something he said that just hasn’t sat right every time you thought of it.
“Why did you want to spend time with me in the first place? Way back, the night we met, when you came to me to make our deal, I asked you why you would give me the job for just hanging out with you. Do you remember what you told me?”
“I remember everything about that night,” he admitted freely. “I told you I was tired of spending time with dead people.”
“And that was a lie,” you stated simply, softly, no anger or hurt in your words. Instead, there was a kind commiseration underlying them.
“Yes.”
“So, why did you want my time?”
“I was lonely.”
And you reached in front of you to grab your Hades’ hand, your lonely-no-more god, and you squeezed it tight between both of yours. “I owe you an answer now. Yes.”
Jaemin tugged you closer, making you momentarily lose your balance and fall forward onto his chest, your mouths just centimeters apart. Obsidian black was all that you could see, his eyes looking at you with nothing short of absolute devotion, divine worship, insatiable hunger. You pushed back that obstinate lock of jet black hair from his forehead before twisting your fingers in the strands at the back of his head and pulling his lips to yours. In the split second before your eyes fluttered shut, they caught the glint of a pomegranate red gem on his ear.
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You were sat beneath the tree of golden fruit with your shadow man, the fruit you had picked still in your hands. With no hesitation, you dug your thumbs into the golden outer husk, splitting it in half. Inside were hundreds of bright red seeds, ripe, plump, glistening like rubies. Your mouth watered. Looking to your shadow man for reassurance, you were immediately given it.
You set one half down on your lap to dig into the other with your fingers. Bringing the first couple seeds you could get out up to your mouth, your tastebuds were immediately met with the ambrosial, saccharine, tart juice. They burst in your mouth, coating your tongue and dripping down the back of your throat. You went back in for more, eating handful after handful of the fruit’s plentiful seeds. Soon that half was emptied, and you grabbed the other that had been sitting in your lap.
You wanted more. Never had you ever wanted for something more in your life. Your fingers and hands were dripping red, and you could feel beads of the scarlet nectar running down your chin to your neck and down your sternum before disappearing into your top. But you still wanted more, wanted everything the fruit could give to you.
When you had finally finished the other half, you felt your want satiated. Your skin was sticky, and the white dress you were wearing had swaths of crimson red stains all over it. And your shadow man was still there beside you, and he finally touched you. His arm wrapped around your shoulders, encouraging you to lean against him, resting your head on his chest and letting out a sigh of relief.
His name tumbled from your lips then, something you’d always known. You’d always known him. An epiphany, a rite, a blessing, a hymn, a miracle, a prayer.
“Jaemin.”
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⤷ series masterlist   ⤷ blog masterlist
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chasani · 1 year
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Go on then, what are your koopaling/koopakid headcanons?
Aha
Ahaha
AHAHAHHAHAHAAGAHHAHAHAHAHA-
GASP
KOOPALINGS
Morton ->
stupid little dork
Asks what song it is when they're singing 'Happy Birthday to You' at a party
Memory loss, they gave him a note pad so he could write things down but he forgot where he put it
Enjoys wearing bows and is very open about it
Takes Wendy's bows
Big Hammer Tiny Brain
Smashes things he doesn't like/understand/want/know
Doesn't know how doors work
Somehow immune to poison if he doesn't know it's poison??
Iggy ->
Completely blind without his glasses
It's legally allowed to drive but drives anyway
Owns a bunch of blond wigs
Weird obsession with sticks and bones
Hangs out in Ludwig's room to listen to him play piano (whether he was invited or not)
Has at least 20 differently themed body pillows
Hatsune Miku binder
Ludwig ->
Does not sleep
Composer at day evil maniac scientist by night
Has a better eating habit than Kooky
I will fight you if you argue with me (you don't have to like it but just don't yell at me for it) but otherwise he's trans ftm and DEFINITELY bi
Steals mirrors from Wendy so he can admire himself
Makes Ramen in the toaster at 3 am while getting a sweet glass of Orange Milk (pineapple juice + milk + coffee + shots)
Dips bread in Egg Whites + Oreo crumbs and fries it (old habit never grew out of)
Wendy ->
Her room is FULL of coins and other gold things
Has two closets, one for clothes and the other for jewelry
Will scream if you take her bows
Somehow always has a mirror on hand
Drags the boys into her room so she can practice her makeup on them
Lemmy is willing to be makeup tester
Believes in bad luck but still dresses up for Friday the 13
PINK PINK PINK
you wouldn't guess it but her favorite songs are rock and country
Larry ->
Has 51 diseases and is banned from most public spaces
Would be a carnivore if the didn't force him to eat vegetables
Throws the baby penguin from the Mario game over the side of the ice cliff
Big fan of trains
His room is full of toy trains
Somehow knows how to drive a train
Owns + Pilots a helicopter, where did he get it from?
Lemmy ->
CLOWN BABY
wanted in 50 states (and counting)
states like solid, liquid, and gas
collect weird miscellaneous objects in hopes he could use it for a performance
Probably pan
Constantly makes jokes about liking pans because he's pan
Once he was caught kissing a pan
Once found biting a pan by the handle and running around on all fours at 3 am
Roy ->
Big man
Acts all tough but also loves bows
Finger paints
Eats raw eggs
KOOPAKIDS
Big Mouth ->
dumb baby
Tries to be tough but just ends up being cute
Memory loss
Eats raw eggs as a snack
Doesn't know you have to cook certain foods
Bully ->
never takes off his shades
Wears pink, blue, and white bows (in no particular order ;])
Own at LEAST 20 different pairs of glasses and counting
Eats like 30 pounds of food a day
Cheatsy ->
trains
trans
trains
Kooky Von Koopa ->
Complete Smart-Ack Maniac
Does not sleep (except for when he completely PASSES OUT from exhaustion in which it's usually day)
Only eats junk food like candy and fried stuff
does not shower or brush his hair you have to throw him into a lake with piranhas to get him clean
Stupidly smart, mad scientist that lives in a basement making monsters
Does a little composing here and there
Knows all of Beethoven's Symphonys + Rush E from heart
Knows at least 25 different languages and counting, already multi bilingual at 1 month old (smart baby)
Probably trans and Agender or smth idk I'm not a mad scientist
Kootie Pie ->
GIRLY GIRL
GASLIGHT GATEKEEP GIRLBOSS
won't admit it but she's a fan of clowns
Literally hates all boys (wouldn't blame her, growing up in an all boy house)
Would be friends with the princess if they didn't try to kidnap her all the time
Ringsssss
Hip ->
Clown baby
can cry at a frequency only dogs can hear
will throw his ball at you if you even dare disagree with him
Bites
Probably has autism idk I'm not a koopa
Hop ->
blind without the glasses
Will eat raw meat if you give it to him un cooked
Do not give him raw meat
He will scream if you give him food before dessert
Never give him food before dessert
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girls-and-honey · 11 months
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I saw your tags on the post about marriage of convenience. I need your thoughts right now!
asdlkfj alright re: this post, I have so many thoughts about marriage and I'll try to keep this at least coherent if not somewhat reasonable in length if you get to the end I'm sorry I failed to keep it short
it probably helps to have a little background on what I think of marriage in general then I'll focus on marriage of convenience. bullet points for this part so I don't get carried away:
you don't need to be married to someone in order to love them, or to 'prove' that you love them also there are many types of love but we're not going to get into that
you don't need to love someone to be married to them
in school we learned the whole 'separation of church and state' thing right (maybe this is a us-specific thing?) and that phrase bothers me so much. the way I was raised framed marriage very much as the religious 'sacrament of marriage' but how is that separation of church and state if there are legal effects of marriage as well??
my own view of marriage is much more based on its legal implications rather than its religious ones, in fact I don't usually think about the religious aspect at all unless it's specifically referenced
interpersonal implications for me lie somewhere between legal and religious (closer to legal, and primarily just how myself and my partner feel about being married, friends/family might have secondary opinions but it's not their relationship)
okay and onto marriage of convenience thoughts. examples cited in the post are excellent reasons: tax benefits, tuition reduction, and yes pet-friendly housing as well! other reasons could include residency rights (especially for someone seeking refuge from a country that is not safe for them), alleviate family pressure (it's your life but look some families feel very strongly about this), more financial reasons including social security breaks, inheritance rights, no gift/estate tax for exchanges between spouses, cheaper health insurance for policy holder + spouse or family coverage, etc..
this probably counts more as a benefit instead of a sole reason since you can make an advance directive but it's one that I think about quite often: medical and legal consent. in the event you're unable to provide consent, the order of priority (again, at least for the us) follows this list until one applies: advance directive, legal representative, married / civil union spouse, close relative, close friend. there are definitely decisions I do NOT want to leave up to my family. also if you're a spouse I believe you have emergency services rights like riding in the ambulance or visiting in the ED that are not given to family/friends
plus if there's marriage of convenience it stands to reason there would be divorce of convenience? I'm joking but yeah you can get divorced if you no longer want to be in your marriage whether it was for convenience or not. definitely think this falls under a cost/benefit consideration on a case by case basis, and there are probably some situations where both parties plan to be married for x amount of time for their specific benefits, but honestly I think it's realistic too for people to just. stay married until it doesn't make sense anymore, financially or otherwise
also I feel like this needs to be said, a marriage of convenience doesn't mean you just pick a complete stranger and marry them. I guess it might, but probably shouldn't for most cases. it's not that you're getting married just for the sake of being married, there's still a benefit for one or both parties it's just that the benefit doesn't include the whole romantic love commitment piece
asldfk was about to post but I want to say one more thing actually. I feel like the two biggest reasons people have to oppose marriages of convenience are 1) it's 'cheating the system' which okay?? the system is broken anyway. marriage is a legal institution, if you can use it to your advantage go for it or 2) it somehow diminishes the sanctity of marriage for everyone who marries for love which like, again. separation of church and state is where??? not anywhere near marriage. I'll state it more clearly: marriage is not an exclusively religious act. there's absolutely nothing wrong with marrying for love btw but it doesn't mean these other reasons are invalid or make a marriage somehow less real
anyway I'm very pro marriage of convenience, I'm not a professional (what would that even be, marriage counselor maybe? lawyer? idk but I'm not it) these are literally just my thoughts
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watching-pictures-move · 11 months
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Movie Review | Diplomatic Immunity (Maris, 1991)
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I've admitted elsewhere that the possibility of making a joke review has definitely influenced my decision to see certain movies. And if I can let you in on a secret, that was the case here. You see, the title of the movie is a line from a buddy cop movie many of you have seen, and I was gonna make a joke to that effect. Here it goes:
*Marge Simpson voice* "We have Lethal Weapon 2 at home."
There. Now you know. See, when you read my reviews, you don't just get my thoughts on the movies, but a little insight into what makes me tick, and what goes into the process of writing these up. Please don't hit unfollow. Now, because I'm long winded, you're gonna get a few more thoughts about this one, because quite frankly it would be a little sad if that terrible joke was all I got out of it. So like Patricia Charbonneau in Call Me, I'm going to squeeze some more juice out of this movie. See, more insights into the process. Please don't hit unfollow.
Now, as you can guess from the title, the concept of diplomatic immunity figures heavily into the plot. The hero's daughter has been killed by some scumbag who happens to be the son of a Parayguan diplomat, and thanks to the concept of diplomatic immunity, he's able to get off scot-free, inspiring the hero to fly down to Paraguay to get his revenge. This falls in the tradition of action movies who take a certain legal concept and shape their entire worldview around it. In Dirty Harry and any number of policiers, Miranda Rights are what's on the mind. Here, and in Lethal Weapon 2, a substantially better movie in every respect, it's diplomatic immunity. The movie even takes a minute to explain the concept, making the assumption that the viewer hasn't already seen Lethal Weapon 2 and probably rented this one by mistake.
Now, the biggest problem with this movie is that the production values don't allow for the kind of thrills one would hope for given the premise. Some of the fun of movies where characters go to shoot up third world countries is that A) you usually get to spend time in a halfway exotic locale (usually a politically friendly country standing in for the real or fictitious country the movie is set in) and B) you get a pretty respectable body count with all the enemy soldiers getting blown away by the heroes. Here, you get some uniforms that look like they might be foreign, but none of the locales glimpsed in the movie suggest they ever left the continental US. Lots of scenes running through alleys, hallways, nondescript streets, and lots of low energy chases and shootouts. And the obvious low budget means that only a handful of henchmen stand in the way of the heroes in any given scene. The sky high body counts of Commando, Rambo, McBain or even a Cannon Films production are not within the movie's grasp.
This might have been a non-issue had the movie gone all in on the sleazy angles of the material, but this is a case where the movie was probably made a decade too late. I'm a fan of Peter Maris' earlier film Delirium, which moves fast and has a nice grimy, exploitation texture. This lacks such qualities, and feels silky smooth when it should be coarse like sandpaper. This isn't due to the lack of sleazy elements, however. The scumbag likes to torture women and take their pictures as he kills them so he can use their faces for his fucked up paintings. He also uses the faces of his mother Meg Foster, with whom he has a creepy relationship, and his mistress, who explains Fabiana Udenio, who explains how he's into BDSM in his personal life, and despite his hankering for torture, is actually a submissive. I believe that makes him a switch, if we're using the proper parlance. She also explains the concept of BDSM to the hero, and like with the earlier explanation of diplomatic immunity it leads me to believe that the screenwriters kept a dictionary handy throughout their process. I should note that she does this after trying to taze the hero while she has on a gimp mask, although the rest of the movie is nowhere near as sexy, especially as it has the veneer of a TV movie. (I should note that the mistress also has a strained relationship with her father, making parental issues something of a recurring theme in the movie.)
Now, if you're still gonna watch this, I should note some of the casting makes this a bitter better. Billy Drago as an arms dealer who decides to help the hero is easily the best part about the whole thing, as he brings an unpredictability to the material thanks to his normally villainous casting. You get the sense that he's not helping the hero out of the goodness of his heart, but because he likes killing people and is awful good at it and won't turn down a chance to kill some more. Sadly, he's not in nearly enough of the movie, for reasons I assume had to do with availability. (Although...it's not like he's an A-lister. He can't be that busy.) And Meg Foster is effectively icy in her creepy as hell role as the villain's mother, staring him down on multiple occasions with her impossibly blue eyes. (On that note, if there's a movie where Foster shoots laser beams from her eyes, please let me know.) And you get Robert Forster as a shady CIA guy (although I guess the adjective is redundant in most cases) and Ken Foree as a sympathetic bartender, although neither has enough screentime. As the lead, Bruce Boxleitner is... fine, but despite the movie's attempts to convince me that he was a super deadly black ops guy, his whole vibe was "your friend's dad who's having a midlife crisis so he bought a leather jacket." Honestly, if you made this a decade earlier and swapped him with Forster, this would be at least fifty percent better. There, I've fixed the movie.
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this is an experiment
my boyfriend—whom i have written quite fondly about—has given me a challenge: write 200 words a day about how i feel every single day. he says it'll help me get better at writing and hopefully calm my insecurities around "not creating enough", i think he's a dumbass. legally, that's a joke. but anyway. 200 words a day about how i feel at any given moment. sounds easy enough, i guess. i don't really know where to begin. hell, i don't even know what 200 words looks like. should i start counting manually? 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6—this is fucking stupid. anyway.
i'd like to think that i'm a good person (maybe it's embarrassing, but every single time is say something like that i think about the opening number from heather's the musical (theatre kid alert)), but i don't think i know what a good person even is. kindness? empathy? love? compassion? everything that my father is not? (haha, daddy issues joke, please give me validation in the form of relatability points.) i think my boyfriend is a good person. i think my friends are good people. i think my roommates are good people. i think most of my professors are good people. honestly, i think that everyone has potential to be a good person. i just don't know if i'm a good person. i think i am. i experience empathy. i'm kind. i love. i'm both passionate and compassionate. i'm decidedly not my father—even though we share DNA and all of that shit (i dunno how genetics works, science side of tumblr hmu (i think i just aged myself)). so maybe i am a good person. maybe by my own definition, i am a good person. i just wish there was a dictionary definition to really solidify my beliefs. i like cold, hard co—facts.
anyway, dear audience, please tell me if this looks like 200 words to you. i really hope it is. maybe i'll go over 200 next time. maybe i already have. should i start counting again? 1, 2, 3, 4—get it (haha, FOURget it? get it?). anyway, see ya tomorrow.
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dragonfoxstar · 1 year
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Thanks, @niuniente for the tag! here we go! :3
1. Are you named after anyone?
Yes? It’s been awhile since my mom explained, but apparently both my sister @chelseyjohnsonconceptdesign and I were named after characters from a tv show if I remember correctly..? I don’t often associate with my real name unless for legal reasons, but I really began to like my name more after finding out the meaning of it during college.
2. When was the last time you cried?
Oh gods I don’t really remember. Probably when finding out Dad had hit his head on concrete and had to have major surgery (he’s fine now and doing great but was still scary waking up to a phone call early on that Monday morning a week before Halloween).
3. Do you have kids?
Nope, and I don’t plan on having any anytime soon.
4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?
Not really unless I feel humorous I suppose? Not much of a sarcastic person and I generally don’t get a lot of jokes unless they are funny to me. I can try and do puns, but only when I’m in the mood I guess.
6. What's your eye color?
Blue/green grey? It changes with the seasons.
7. Scary movies or happy endings?
Happy endings though I don’t mind a good scare or plot twist :3
8. Any special talents?
Other than art and playing an instrument/reading music, I can wiggle my ear and have a freckle in one my eyes if that counts? Oh and being a twin of course.
9. Where were you born?
Mississippi, USA
10. What are your hobbies?
Drawing, sculpting, sewing, making stuff out of nothing...but if not that I love reading, writing, kayaking, swimming, and hiking when I’m able to.
11. Have you any pets?
Nope. Can’t have any due to contract with landlord at our current rental home. I used to have lots of pets growing up though and still miss them even after they’ve passed. Fun fact: Used to have not only cats, dogs, and fish but also hedgehog, horse, rabbit, chickens, pigs, and a deer. Tis why I enjoy pet sitting so much when the opportunity arises.
12. What sports do you play/have played?
Oh gosh. I wasn’t big into doing sports minus marching band (yes I consider it a sport). But I did play softball and soccer when I was little.
13. How tall are you?
5′7″ or 170.18 cm
14. Favorite subject in school?
I loved art classes, but if not that definitely band, music, and biology.
15. Dream job? I want to be successful doing art for a living, but if not that definitely doing something positive in the world to make it a better place.
Tagging whoever wants to do this! <3
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bad-parx-jokes · 3 years
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Leaked updated merch design:
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noodyl-blasstal · 4 months
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The Rule Book
It's @taznovembercelebration day 25 and I got the prompt "crisis". Read below or on A03, and catch yesterday's here if you missed it.
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“I want to fuck a vampire.” Kravitz announces, because he can’t keep it in any more, because there’s simply no point in lying to Barry.
Barry drops his newspaper onto the table in relief. “Thank fuck! I think I’m in love with Lup.” Barry volleys right back to him, because apparently it’s a competition now?
“We’re not supposed to use names! It humanises them…” Kravitz immediately parrots the manual. Wait. Fuck. “No, wait, I didn’t mean that. Taako’s great, it’s not that I don’t have feelings for him, it’s not just all about the sex wanting. He’s human, not like human human, because of the vampire thing, but it’s not just about…” Kravitz waves his hand, searching for the right words, he can’t have Barry thinking this is just a physical thing.
“...The sex wanting.” Barry finishes for him and nods solemnly. Kravitz thinks he’s gotten away with it, then he snorts and repeats “sex wanting” under his breath.
Kravitz scowls. “Barry, we’re having a crisis in case you haven’t noticed, can we bully me later?”
Barry grumbles some but seems to agree. “Fine, fine. So what do we do?”
“Bring flowers?”
“And not our stakes?”
Kravitz groans and sinks into the chair opposite Barry. “There has to be a rule against this.”
“There isn’t, I’ve checked. Twice.” Barry pauses. “Okay, seven times. It’s not there. I read the manual front to back.”
“You’re sure?”
“I guess it’s implied?”
“But 'implied' isn’t legally in the rules.” Kravitz nods emphatically. If it’s not a firm rule it’s much easier to bend.
“There was a thing about telling them if you were ensorcelled.” Barry adds.
“Uh huh.”
“But we’re not.”
“Are you sure?” Kravitz bites at the skin on the inside of his lips, he’s been doing it a lot lately, too much. The whole situation has him on edge.
“Yep! I checked that too. No magic, we’re just the regular kind of enraptured.”
“I’m pretty sure Taako put a spell on me.”
“He didn’t, bud. He didn’t. You just like him because he’s handsome, laughs at your jokes, and is into your whole Mr Bond thing.”
“My jokes are great!”
“Uh huh.”
“And I just like suits and happen to be British. There’s nothing wrong with liking suits!”
“I like a suit as much as the next guy.” Barry indicates his denim shirt with press study buttons.
Kravitz tries not to flinch. “Canadian tuxedos don’t count.”
“It’s in the name!”
“They don’t count!” Kravitz says more firmly.
Barry shrugs in the way that means he definitely doesn’t believe Kravitz and will go on thinking that their clothing choices are exactly the same level of fancy.
“What do we do?” Kravitz turns his coffee mug aimlessly, quarter rotations with no end other than making a tiny scratching noise to let him know he’s definitely not dreaming… Taako’s so ethereal that it’s hard to believe he’s not conjured by Kravitz’s imagination. He’s certainly been a regular feature in Kravitz’s evenings.
“Not killing them sounds good.”
“Oh, thanks Barry, great call, I’ll change my plans for this afternoon and not stake Taako shall I?”
“I mean you could probably still impale him if he was into it.”
“Barry!”
“Sorry bud.” Says Barry in his least sorry voice, the one he saves for after his worst jokes.
“Well if you’re so on top of it, what’re you going to do?”
“Nothing.” Barry says confidently. “She’s not going to be interested. Look at me! As far as she knows I’m a washed up 50 something - I had to tell her I was taking a career break to do ‘some research’ because I couldn’t tell her I’m actually really good at murdering ‘monsters’ like her and have at least three awards about it.”
Kravitz stares at him. “We’re talking about the same Lup, right?
“The one that looks exactly the same as Taako?”
“Yes.”
“Then yes.”
“So you haven’t noticed that she gravitates towards you?”
“I just have stuff she needs a lot of the time.”
“Like…?”
“Information.”
“Uh huh.”
“And napkins.”
“Mmm hmm.”
“And books.”
“And she borrows the books and then you talk about the books?”
“Yeah.” Barry looks at Kravitz puzzled. “In a friend way!”
“At her house?”
“It’s closer to the cafe than here.”
“And I’m not there.”
“We wouldn’t want to disturb you.”
“And you stay over because?”
“She said it’s dangerous to walk around on my own at night.”
“And even though you used to be one of the combat trainers at the institute you said…”
“I can’t give myself away!”
“So you had literally no option but to stay over?”
“Exactly.”
“There’s no way I could have collected you in the car we have?”
“You were probably busy.”
“Nearly every night for the last month?”
“Don’t pretend you weren’t out mooning over Taako!”
“I don’t moon.” Kravitz says sulkily.
“No, of course not, you just sit at the bar with your head in your hand and stare lovesick at him five nights a week for no reason.” Barry’s grinning now.
“Well if you thought that why didn’t you say anything?”
“Well if you thought I was spending an inappropriate amount of time with Lup why didn’t you say anything?” Barry throws back at him.
Fuck.
“I thought maybe if I didn’t say anything you wouldn’t say anything and then no one had to say anything and we wouldn’t get fired.”
“Are you worried about getting fired?”
“I don’t want that on my record.”
“Do you even like our job?”
“I like money, Barry, I like being able to exist in the world.”
“Have you considered marrying rich?”
“Do you think Taako has a secret fortune?”
“Thinking of proposing, bud?”
“No!” Says Kravitz quickly, definitely not thinking of the dream he had three nights ago where he and Taako lived in a cottage by a picturesque lake and everything was soft and warm and perfect.
“I’d ask Lup.” Barry shrugs. “She’s amazing.”
“Maybe start with a date?”
“I’ll do it if you do it.” Barry smiles, smug, thinks he’s won.
“Fine.”
“What?” Barry’s smug smile is replaced by a frown.
“I said, fine. I’ll ask Taako out.”
“I thought you were a rules guy?”
Kravitz shrugs. “Maybe the rules are wrong.”
--
Had a goodfun time? Wanna read some more? Great news! Here's tomorrow's prompt.
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dycefic · 3 years
Text
Have An Evil Day
No prompt this time, just a sequel to ‘Welcome To Evil-Mart’
Working at Evil-Mart is usually… well, it’s retail. It’s physically exhausting, you have to deal with a lot of idiots without being overtly rude, and your feet hurt. Even though the hours and pay are very good, the benefits are great, and our bosses treat us well compared to most retail employees, it’s still not what I’d call a fun job.
But it’s not what I’d call dull, either. Especially not on days like today.
I was promoted to supervisor after the Food Poisoning Incident, so I have a little more authority and a little less obligation to be pleasant and I got issued a weighted cosh because sometimes Evil-Mart customers get… feisty. I’d never had to use it, though, because those who hadn’t seen what I did to Majority Rules, either in person or on one of the cell-phone videos that circulated afterwards, had at least heard about it.  They didn’t give me any trouble.
I was halfway through my shift, and the worst things that’d happened had been running out of croissants and a machine oil spill in Aisle Seven, when our greeter pressed the alarm button, which sent an alert to my handset. As front-end supervisor, that meant me, so I went over. Sam, who is unusual in the henching community for having actually aged out rather than ‘being retired’ jerked his chin in the direction of a tall, swaggering figure. “He just came in,” he whispered.
I did a full double-take before I took it in. Superdyne. Fucking Superdyne.
We’d all heard about his dramatic heel-turn a couple of months ago. The whole world had heard about it. Superdyne, who’d skated closer and closer to the line for years, had decided to cross it in a blaze of bloodshed. He was a villain now, he said. There’d been a whole speech about how ingratitude had driven him to it blah blah blah.
I work at Evil-Mart. I’m from a hench family. If someone becomes a supervillain because they hate Mondays or want to turn us all into dinosaurs or whatever, I don’t judge. I will sell depth-charges and laser guns to anyone who can prove they’re over eighteen without hesitation. But even we get kind of grossed out by the ‘I am forced to turn evil because I haven’t been given enough love’ thing. People who are actually so fucked up by emotional abuse or neglect or some superhero killing their family, we’re fine with them. But they don’t say that’s why they do it, and most of them need a lot of therapy to even realize it. People who actually say that’s why are entitled dickwads.
And now the dickwad had walked into Evil-Mart like he was entitled. Like he thought he was one of us.
“Lockdown protocols,” I told Sam quietly. “On my authorisation.” That takes a minute or two, though, so I went over to talk to Superdyne. “Sir, I have to ask how you even knew where to find this place.”
He smirked at me. “I have my ways,” he said smugly. He’d either bribed or beaten someone, that was my guess. “So this is where the villains shop? We all thought you went to Wal-Mart.” He laughed, like he thought it was clever.
“Yes, so you all say,” I said dryly. I didn’t feel like pretending he was the first person to make the bad joke. “My next question, sir, is what made you think it was a good idea to come in here.”
He spread his hands. “I’m one of you now!” he said happily. “I’m a bad guy! So now I guess I shop where the bad guys shop!” He looked around, frowning a little. “Although I was expecting more weapons and explosives. A… more villainous atmosphere. I didn’t know Evil-Mart had fresh produce.”
“I don’t advise buying herbs here unless you’re a magical practitioner. Some of them have… unusual effects.” A lot of our produce is normal stuff, but some of it not only isn’t legal, it doesn’t exist anywhere else.
“Oh. Well, that makes sense. But the bright lights and the bakery?”
“We have excellent gluten-free breads. In many ways, Superdyne, this is just another store. We have sales, we mark down the breads in the afternoon, we even have a PA system.” I pulled out my handset, and thumbed the button that tied it to the PA. “Attention, shoppers,” I said in my most soothing Customer Service voice, which made him grin. “Evil-Mart wishes to inform you – “ The countdown on my handset reached zero, and I turned to look at the entrance as a huge blast door thudded down. That was the last part of the sequence – staff outside the area were already in lockdown and security were on their way. I smiled, and continued almost without a pause. “- That we are in lockdown at this time, due to the presence of Superdyne in the store. Please remain calm, and be advised that security are on their way to deal with the problem. If you have a personal grudge that you wish to address with Superdyne at this time, he is standing near Register Six with a stupid expression on his face.”
He was staring at me, stunned. “But… but…” he stammered, and damned if he didn’t look puzzled. “But I’m one of you now!”
“No,” I said flatly. “You were always evil, that’s true, but you’ll never be one of us. And for the record, I’m one of the people with a personal grudge. All those henchmen you’ve killed and maimed had families, asshole… and they all shop here.”
He swung at me, then, but I spent years in hench training. Even someone super-strong can be dodged, and once I slammed my cosh into his groin a few times his punches got a lot more aimless. Around then, Tiger Ty came over the register, claws out and snarling, and I figured I should stand out of the way.
About ten minutes later, I turned on the PA again. “Clean-up to Register Six,” I called, in the same special voice. “Category 7, class three. Shoppers, please be advised that lockdown is now lifted but Register Six will be closed until clean-up is completed.”
Hunter, who’d been working Register Six, came out from underneath it. He looked a little green. Well, he was still in his teens, this was probably his first fatal mobbing. “What’s Category 7?” he asked in a shaky voice. “I haven’t heard that before.”
“Biohazard.”
“Oh. Class three?”
“Send three people. He was a juicy one.” I stepped away from a spreading puddle of blood. “Run and get a couple of caution signs we can put around this mess.” I eyed it measuringly. “And one of those fifteen-gallon plastic tubs with a lid, I’ll damage it out.”
He eyed the mess. “Are you sure that’s big enough?”
“Yeah, the average human is only about seventeen gallons by volume, and I’m not going to put all the blood and mush in there, just the big pieces.”
He gulped. “Ah. Yes, ma’am.”
I called after him when he ran off. “One of the black tubs, not a clear one!” Which honestly should only be common sense, but you can’t count on a flustered teenager to have common sense.
We frown on killing customers at Evil-Mart, up to a point… but when a particularly murderous super-hero walks into our store, well, that’s something else. I’d have to fill out a ton of paperwork, though.
I had to chase off one of Doctor Malign’s minons and two members of the Genetic Reign before the clean-up crew arrived, both of whom urgently wanted samples. In the end I scraped a few pieces of liver and unidentified organ into two of the bags we use for possibly-contaminated money just to make them go away. (They’re good customers, and it was just going to go in the trash anyway.)
By the time the clean-up was done, all the big pieces were boxed up, and I’d finished the paperwork, my shift had been over for twenty minutes, and I’d been asked to come up to the boss’s office.
“Listen, I have no issues with how you handled the situation, I want you to know that.” Mr Trent leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingertips together. “It was quick, it was efficient, and… given your personal history with Superdyne, not to mention mine and that of half of our customer base… richly deserved.”
“Yes, sir,” I said. It came out too meek, and I cleared my throat and straightened up. It’s hard not to be intimidated by Mr Trent, when you’re in the same room with him. It’s not his fault, and he does his best, but even under the strictest control his fear-inducing powers tend to unsettle anyone who gets too close. We all know he’s not doing it on purpose and we try not to show our reactions. “Do you have any orders regarding the remains?”
“Doctor Order wants them.” He rubbed his chin. “Get someone from the pharmacy to prepare samples for him, please, including brain tissue. He’s our primary supplier, and we can’t offend him. As for the rest… as you know, I’m retired, and I don’t usually participate in the Endless War.” One of his hands dropped to his left thigh. His prosthetic leg is some of Doctor Order’s best work, but the injury that led to his retirement had been brutal even by our standards. “But this is different. Superdyne came here. To our place of safety. We need to make sure that doesn’t happen again.”
I nodded. “Do you want the remains dumped somewhere public? Some kind of dramatic display?”
“No. Something more direct.” He rubbed his chin again, then tapped the intercom on his desk. “Iris, please send up Miss Fedorova from Marketing and Mr Levy from the warehouse.”
“Yes, sir,” Iris responded, and he clicked off the intercom again.
“The three of you worked together very well, during the food poisoning incident,” he explained. “And I believe they can assist us in a satisfactory conclusion.” He hesitated, then smiled ruefully. “Perhaps you should wait outside until they get here. I can tell I’m unsettling you.”
“Sir, I know you’re not – “
“Not doing it on purpose.” He sighed. “I do appreciate how hard you all work to make me feel… accepted, I really do. But I’m very annoyed right now, which makes control more difficult for me, so I think we’d both be more relaxed if you waited outside while I do my meditation exercises.”
I waited outside. When the three of us went into his office again, the miasma of low-level fear was definitely a bit lighter, and he smiled. “All right. Now, this conversation is going to be very confidential, and I will remind you all of the agreements you signed when you were employed.” We all chorused agreement, and he nodded. “Good. Now, this is very much a secret, even among Evil-Mart staff, but we do have a few online clients who are… ah… on the other side of the fence.”
Ms Fedorova blinked. “What?”
Knuckles sighed. “We ship to a few heroes,” he explained. “The ones who are… less homo than sapiens, if you get my drift.”
I didn’t, and from her expression Ms Fedorova didn’t either. Mr Trent spread his hands, drawing our eyes to his fingers. Which as a rule nobody looks at, because there’s fourteen of them, with four joints in each finger, and we know he’s self-conscious about it. “The less… purely human ones,” he said quietly. “One of the reasons I created Evil-Mart was to give those who can’t pass for human, like me, a place to be… people. To have dignity. So that the obligate carnivores weren’t reduced to living on pet-food or scavenging for scraps, so that those with complex metabolisms could get the supplements they need so that people who are still people, for all their outward differences, could shop in safety. There are a great many more monsters, demigods, abominations of science and other non-standard persons among our set than among the heroes, and I wanted to meet their needs, as well as selling weapons and Lair-away-from-home sets and so on.”
“And there are a few heroes who order from us for that reason,” Knuckles added. “The ones who can’t get medications to suit their metabolism, or need to eat things that you can’t get easily anywhere else.”
I nodded, because that much I understood. We have some very esoteric ‘dietary supplies’ that start with fresh, healthy, well-treated and disease-free prey animals frozen whole (from mouse up to calf and goat kept in stock, larger sizes by pre-order, halal and kosher certified where possible) and end with human blood (rejected blood bank stock mostly, we have an arrangement), and human flesh and organs (sourced from hospitals, morgues and crematoriums, guaranteed no murder, at least not by us). “Well, I suppose that makes sense. I’m surprised we ship to them, though.”
“Oh, they don’t know we know. It’s all assumed names and secret bank accounts.” Knuckles grinned. “But Mr Trent has all our online customers identified before we ship. And for the ones who don’t have any other options, well… we let it slide.”
“I can see why you don’t want that to get out.” Ms Fedorova tapped her chin. “What does this have to do with disposing of the body? I was planning to set up a really ghoulish display in a public place somewhere, I already have some sketches.” Marketing for Evil-Mart is… well, it includes more than designing our sale flyers.
“No. We’re going to deliver them to a hero… one of the ones who owes us… and make it very clear that just because someone decides to admit he’s a villain, that doesn’t make him one of us and it doesn’t entitle him to union services,” Mr Trent said flatly. “I want to make it crystal clear to all of them that a heel turn does not mean their sins are forgiven, or that we will accept them as anything other than a very brief amusement.”
Late that night – we were all on overtime, but it couldn’t be done in daylight – we wheeled a cart down the run-down hallway of a shoddy apartment building. “This is a terrible address for a hero,” Ms Fedorova muttered. “Are we sure he lives here?”
“I deliver here a couple of times a month.” Knuckles was pushing the cart. “I’m sure.”
“Okay.” Ms Fedorova cleared her throat, coughed once or twice, and suddenly her voice was deeper and her very faint Russian accent was as thick as pea soup. “This is intimidation tactic,” she said, grinning toothily. “Do not act surprised.”
I knocked on the door, but let Knuckles do the talking. “Delivery, Mr West,” he called, using the fake name the guy had been giving.
It worked… the door was unlocked and opened almost immediately. “I scheduled the order for next – “ the mark said, and then we were pushing inside, slamming the door behind us.
“Do not be alarmed, Mr… Dinoid, is it?” Ms Fedorova said, folding her arms. “Evil-Mart is knowing all along your real identity. But you are needing to eat, and we are not turning down regular business, so we make no trouble.”
Knuckles rolled his eyes behind her back at how much she was hamming it up, but I waved a hand. Let her have her fun. So Knuckles started unloading the boxes onto the table while she talked. “First, your Budget Bunny Box. Your favourite, da?” The next box, smaller, plunked down. “Two fresh chickens, halal certified, healthy and having lived good life, gift for good customer.” Knuckles dumped the plastic tub on the floor. “And mortal remains of Superdyne, with note.”
Dinoid was staring at us, but that made him shift into a combat stance, his long claws spread. “The… Superdyne’s dead? And in there?”
“Well. Most of him. The big pieces.” Ms Fedorova shrugged an impressively Russian shrug. I hadn’t even known that was a thing, but when she did it, it was obvious. “You must understand, when a mob tears a man apart, it is hard to find every little piece.”
“I’m pretty sure Doctor Malign and the Genetic Reign took off with doggy bags,” I said, as if I hadn’t handed them over myself. “And Doctor Order probably has some of him too, by now. So looking out for clones would be a good idea, I don’t know if that’s in the note.”
Insofar as that reptilian face could show readable expressions, he looked shocked. “Why on earth would… why? He changed sides? And why did you bring him to me?”
“We know your address, we know you don’t want to turn us in because we’re the only ones who can supply your meals, and our boss wanted us to make this very clear.” I indicated the note. Since Ms Fedorova was hamming up her Sexy Russian Supervillain act, and Knuckles was very obvious Muscle, I figured it was on me to be the Reasonable One. “He might have stopped being a hero, but that didn’t make him one of us. That didn’t make him acceptable to us. Our boss wants it made very clear that your failures shouldn’t expect to be accepted by us… or even spared by us.”
He shifted slowly, the tip of his tail twitching. “I… see. I understand why you would reject Superdyne. He was notorious for killing and maiming people on… your side. But I know other defectors have been accepted. Philomel, for example.”
“Philomel was child of villains. She is young, she is rebellious, she sides with heroes for a while.” Ms Fedorova shrugged. “Is understandable, da? The young do foolish things. She comes home, all is forgiven.”
He nodded slowly. “Tenebrous?”
“That story I don’t know.” Ms Fedorova glanced at me.
I nodded. “Tenebrous was just a kid. He was twelve when Varide recruited him. Nineteen when he broke with the guy. Varide put a kid into combat, left him with massive PTSD, then ditched him when he had a breakdown and went too far. Mx Frantique at least made sure he had a safe place to stay and some therapy.”
“It’s happened a few times.” Knuckles rested his elbows on the cart’s handles, his inhumanly big, strong hands dangling. “But there’s a process. A system. If someone’s sponsored by a villain in good standing, like Frantique sponsoring Tenbrous, they can be accepted. Nobody gets to just choose to join. Especially not a smug, entitled prick like Superdyne.”
Ms Fedorova suddenly leaned forward, scowling. “And why are you called Dinoid? You are not dinosaur. You are clearly monitor lizard. Golden monitor, I think.” She reached out and prodded his arm. “And not healthy, either. Look at colouration! You do not keep environment humid enough. Are having trouble with shedding, da?”
Now we were all staring at her. “You’re a lizard expert now?” Knuckles asked.
She shrugged. “What? Is hobby. Mamma’s little Varanus Acanthurus are pride and joy. Sadly, cannot keep larger monitors in city. Is unkind.”
Dinoid ran a hand over his head slowly. “Not many people realize,” he said slowly. “That’s why I order from you guys. I used to get frozen… food… from a pet supplier, but then I got contacted by someone who told me there was another option.”
“Is good thing. Those pet suppliers, they are rogues. They do not keep animals healthy, can get diseases or mites from those things.” Ms Fedorova sniffed. “I would never buy from them. My babies would get sick.”
He actually chuckled, then, seeming to relax a bit. “You’re not wrong. After… this happened… I got really sick a couple of times before I figured out what to eat, and where to get it. And even the reputable suppliers don’t always have the healthiest stock.” He opened his mouth wide, making a gagging noise. “You have no idea how bad that ‘reptile food’ is. Eating whole animals may be a little disgusting, but it’s nothing to some of that stuff.”
“I believe it,” I said emphatically. “There’s a reason Evil-Mart has such an extensive pet-food line. The horror stories we hear from some of our customers… well, you’d believe it, I bet, but most humans just look confused.”
Knuckles nodded, and spread his hands. “People who can’t pass for regular humans… or even for people, the way most normies see it… are a lot more common on our side of the fence than yours. That’s why we delivered to you. We figured you really needed it.”
“Does he order from the pharmacy?” Ms Fedorova was around behind him now, examining his back. “He is having calcium deficiency, am betting. He needs nutritional supplement.”
“I take a nutritional supplement,” he said defensively.
“The one for normal-sized lizards is not enough for man-sized monitor/human hybrid,” she said firmly. “Check pharmacy section next time. We are having excellent selection of supplements for hybrids, and chart to tell you how much to take for body-mass.”
He looked back and forth between the three of us. “You people are… not what I would have expected from an evil supermarket.”
“We may be… morally challenged,” I said, shrugging, “but we’re not heartless.” I looked around his tiny, shabby apartment. “Unlike some of your lot. I thought you were on a team. Why are you living here?”
He ducked his head. “I couldn’t live at the base,” he said, his tail drooping. “My… I made people uncomfortable. And the stipend isn’t much.”
“Isn’t much? With the merchandising deals they have?” Ms Fedorova sounded shocked, and the accent had dropped back a lot. “I know for a fact that if the accountants ever got hold of their books they’d owe more in back taxes than… well, than Evil-Mart would if our illegal product arm ever got discovered. And we pay our taxes on the legitimate stuff scrupulously.”
Dinoid blinked rapidly, though I couldn’t tell whether he was more surprised by her suddenly dropping her act or the idea that Evil-Mart pays taxes. “You do?”
“Of course. Not under that name, of course, there’s a shell company.” She sniffed. “All villains do. Al Capone, you know. We’re not getting caught that way again.”
Knuckles and I both nodded when he looked at us, and he shook his head. “Huh. Makes sense, I guess.”
“It does.” I looked around again. The place really was crappy. “I know it’s a personal question, Mr… West, but under the circumstances I’d like to know… how much is that stipend?”
He looked down at the floor for a while, then cleared his throat. “Uh. $1100 a month.”
We all stared at him. Ms Fedorova’s mouth fell open. Knuckles looked shocked, and I was horrified. “$1100 a month?!” I asked, my voice coming out louder than I’d intended. “For risking your life on a superhero team?! I have teenaged cashiers working part-time who make more than that!”
He looked almost as startled as we did. “For working a cash register?!”
“Evil-Mart pays pretty good.” Knuckles shrugged. “But that stipend is disgusting.”
“You are being exploited,” Ms Fedorova said, sounding really aghast. “That is terrible. Why, baseline henchman pay is twice that, and there are danger bonuses and…” Her voice dropped suddenly. “You don’t have a union, do you?”
“A union? Of course we don’t have a…” He trailed off. “You mean you do?”
“Of course we do. An extremely well-armed one.” Ms Fedorova folded her arms. “Henchmen And Allied Industries has represented us for generations. The last time a supervillain executed a union henchman for failure, he was boiled in oil… literally. On camera. Oh, of course some of the less reputable villains just pick up small-time trash from the streets, untrained rabble from the gangs and so on, so they can treat them as disposable, but we union members are skilled workers, with rights and protections. I bet you don’t even get overtime.”
“Of course not. Crime happens when it happens, and we have to…” He trailed off. “You guys get overtime?”
“We’re getting double time and a half for this conversation. And an extra day off.”
His eyes widened again. “Really? Wow, that’s… even when I was working a regular job, before this, I didn’t get pay like that.” He looked down at his hands and bared his teeth in what looked like an unhappy expression. “And now I can’t work anything but this kind of job. People don’t like having a scary dinosaur in their restaurant.”
There was a long pause.
“You can cook?” Ms Fedorova asked carefully.
“Yeah. I worked in my parents’ restaurant before… this.” He gestured at himself. “They were killed when we were attacked, and I was… changed.”
We all looked at each other. “After you’ve returned Superdyne’s remains to whoever you consider appropriate,” I said, grabbing a notepad and scribbling down my number, “I’d like you to give me a call. Evil-Mart is always hiring in the bakery and deli, and I mean always. Most bad guys aren’t great cooks. We don’t know why, it just seems to be one of those things.”
“You want me to join the bad guys?”
“I want you to work in a bakery. Villains and henchmen need to eat, and so do their families. Nobody’s going to ask you to rip superheroes in half, just maybe make a sandwich that won’t give anyone food poisoning.”
“That’s a regular concern?”
“Six months ago the three of us ran Evil-Mart’s physical store completely unassisted for most of a day because the only people who weren’t down with food poisoning were the ones who’d had the vegetarian and kosher meals.” I shuddered at the recollection. “Trust me. Someone who can cater staff functions without a major disaster would never have to live in an apartment like this working for us.”
“And we get full benefits, including dental.” Knuckles was shaking his head. “I bet you don’t even get hospital.”
“What hospital would take me? I always figured I’d go to the zoo and talk to the vet if – “
Ms Fedorova actually put her arms around him. “You,” she told him firmly, “are going to resign your terrible exploitative job, and then I will personally sponsor you to the union immediately. I have a spare room. You will like it. Humidity and temperature can be set just how you like, and Mamma Yelena will take you to real doctor expert in health of hybrids.”
“Those exist?” he asked, sounding a bit overwhelmed.
“Yeah, the Genetic Reign has like three of them,” I said sympathetically. “Listen, you can take some time to think it over, but you don’t have to put up with this kind of exploitation just because you don’t look human. Nearly a third of Evil-Mart’s staff can’t pass, and they’re treated just like everyone else.”
Superdyne’s dramatic demise got a lot of news coverage. Apparently it came as a real shock to the ‘good guys’ that there were some monsters even the superest villains wouldn’t embrace.
Dinoid no longer exists. Ismail Jameel works at Evil-Mart, and has expanded our fresh food lines a lot already. He’s a nice guy, and after Ms Fedorova told everyone how disgustingly he’d been exploited by those so-called ‘heroes’, he was welcomed with open arms. Literally, in at least one case – he’s dating someone from the warehouse, I’ve heard, though I don’t know who. He says we should rename the store, because we suck at being evil.
But evil is a really relative term. It can mean the blackest depravity, or a moment of viciousness, or even just ‘people on the other side’. Evil-Mart is called that because everyone, at least everyone on our side, is welcome. Plus, we all think it’s funny that the least-evil megacorporation is called ‘Evil-Mart’. What can we say? Bad guys have a sense of humour too.
Have an evil day!
6K notes · View notes
starshapedkookie · 4 years
Text
Southpaw
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pairing: jungkook x female reader (ft. a little sprinkle of namjoon)
genre: childhood friends to lovers, boxer jungkook, college/frat au
includes: swearing, angst, mentions of blood and violence, pining, smut (public/private, unprotected sex, hair pulling, jungkook is big guys, duh), alcohol, smoking weed, jungkook seems like an asshole but he’s really not, OC having a crisis every two seconds, some fluff here and there as well, also this takes place over many months just saying if time gets confusing
premise: Knowing Jeon Jungkook for the better part of your life, you thought you knew everything about him. Well, that was before you two disappeared from each other’s lives at least. When Jungkook suddenly finds himself buying you a coffee to rekindle your friendship, it leads to much more than you bargained for.
word count: 30k (she’s a monster sorry guys) 
quick note: this is my first story back in a year(?) give or take some weeks!! kind of nervous to post & not sure if my writing has declined in anyway but nonetheless here is the beast that has been sitting on my computer since April 2019!! quick disclaimer I don’t know much about boxing so if I get stuff wrong - I apologize!! please enjoy & let me know what you think ❤️happy 7 years BTS!
recommended songs for reading: pray (JRY, RuthAnne), mushroom chocolate (6lack, quin), hallucinate (dua lipa), wus good/curious (partynextdoor)
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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. 
8K notes · View notes
drcriminalminds · 3 years
Text
Red Handed
Aaron Hotchner x Fem! Reader
Warnings: Language. Smut (very, very short).
A/N: This is inspired by that episode where Rossi walks in on Penelope and Kevin in the shower HAHAHA.
Word Count: 1,298
“You know, I think he’s seeing someone.”
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Aaron’s kisses were hot, heavy, and they moved with each of his hard thrusts as he fucked up into you. He had you pressed tightly against the shower wall, keeping you there by firmly being squished against you. He didn’t stop his movements, loving your noises and whimpers too much to even think about teasing you.
“Oh, fuck! You feel amazing...” You breathed, throat straining to get the words out.
He sucked on your neck for that, leaving a purpling bruise and chuckling just below your ear. He had a rather rough day, and he had a lot of pent up frustration that you were more than glad to take off of him. He held you up even higher, slamming into you at a new angle that had your toes curling behind his back.
Hot water from the shower head was still flowing steadily, drenching the both of you and filling the room with so much steam that it was getting difficult to breathe. He needed some gratification after his horrible day that you had seen from beginning to end, and he was grateful that he had you to ease his tension. 
“You’re so perfect...so beautiful.” He praised as he felt your legs tighten around him, letting him know that the band was about to snap. 
His suspicions were correct. A few seconds and thrusts later, his name rolled off of your tongue deliciously, and he was milking your walls white as you released around him. Your breathings were heavy as he set you down on the floor, your legs feeling a bit wobbly. He peppered you with lazy kisses, the shower washing away the evidence of your dirty encounter. He eventually pulled back to look at you, all the traces of lust were gone from your eyes and had been replaced with contentment.
“That was-” Aaron went to say, but was cut off when a loud knock was heard on your apartment door.
It was pretty late, nearing 11:30 at night. You had absolutely no idea who could be there this late. 
“I’ll get it.” You grumbled, annoyed that someone was interrupting your more than enjoyable shower.
Aaron whined in protest, but helped you out of the shower to keep you from slipping and possibly hurting yourself. The knocks had grown louder now, and you scrambled to throw on your robe and get to the door. You expected it to be one of your nosy neighbors to see what all the noise had been about, but you were shocked when you saw your best friend standing there.
“Hi, [Y/N].” Spencer greeted, allowing himself inside as he normally did.
It wasn’t at all uncommon for Spencer to drop by your apartment. He was rather spontaneous despite popular belief. Sometimes he would just get bored because he couldn’t sleep or he just wanted someone to talk to. But he almost never came over this late, or at least without calling first.
“Uh, hey, Spence.” You greeted, feeling all your blood rush at the remembrance that Aaron was in your bathroom alone.
Spencer didn’t know about you and Hotch. No one did. Except for Rossi, who figured it out himself. It was something that you and Aaron agreed to keep on the down low, and out of public knowledge. It was a frowned upon thing to date a co-worker...or in your case, your superior. It was nice to have a little secret that you were keeping from the team. It kept things interesting.
“Did Hotch seem weird to you today?” Spencer asked, entering your small kitchen and opening the fridge.
“I...not really, no.” You lied, knowing he had a terrible day.
You couldn’t see Spencer from the refrigerator door blocking him, but his muffled reply alerted you that he had just found your leftover pizza from about an hour ago.
“He just seemed off to me. He never yells at you like that.” Spencer remarked.
It was true that Aaron had yelled at you in front of everyone, resulting in the two of you getting into a massive fight, before making up over pizza and a movie...and then a round of shower sex. 
“I’m sure he had his reasons,” You replied, the sudden lack of sound of the running water from the shower setting in; “Spence, now really isn’t a good-”
“You know, I think he’s seeing someone.” Spencer cut you off.
That sparked your interest for obvious reasons. You had already begun to wonder how NO ONE had picked up on it yet (other than Rossi). You were curious to see what Spencer was picking up on.
“Oh? Why do you say that?” You questioned.
Spencer rose from the fridge, closing the door with a half-eaten slice of pizza in his hand. 
“He just seems happier, aside from today,” Spencer said; “And a few days ago, he walked past me and I could smell perfume. Definitely not his regular cologne.” He announced.
You snorted, teasing the lanky man.
“Are you smelling Aaron on a regular basis?” You joked.
Spencer stopped his chewing, and raised a brow.
“Aaron? Since when are you on a first name basis with Hotch?” Spencer queried.
Your cheeks went hot at your mistake, your amused smile fading.
“Oh, well...I just meant-”
And then the man in question made his entrance. Almost stark naked if it hadn’t been for the towel around his waist.
“Baby, I know that you know this, but your hot water heater is terrible.” Hotch said, referring to how your shower could go from blazing hot to frigidly cold in a matter of seconds.
Spencer’s entire face went red, the tips of his ears almost going purple at the sight of Hotch in front of him. Hotch noticed your deer-in-headlights stare and Spencer’s ghostly look. The three of you were frozen in time, very aware of the situation and how peculiar it was. 
“Reid, what the- what are you doing here?” Aaron asked in a calm, yet panicked tone.
Aaron knew that you and Spencer spent a lot of time together outside of work, but he didn’t think that Spencer would ever show up when he was there. Spencer’s eyes couldn’t help but dart between the two of you, back and forth as if he were trying to convince himself it was real.
“I thought that [Y/N] might want to talk about today...but I see I came at a bad time.” He blushed.
“Spencer, it’s...we just...” You tried to explain, but couldn’t find the right words. 
This was not how you thought this would go. Spencer had just showed up at a very inconvenient time, and now was in the presence of two of his dearest friends who had just clearly been doing something they probably shouldn’t have been.
Spencer had just caught you red handed.
The boy genius was piecing it all together in his head. The pieces all fit together to create one solid, obvious picture. 
You and Hotch were together.
“I’m sorry I interrupted...I, uh, guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” Spencer said, making a mad dash for your front door.
“Reid.” Hotch said in an attempt to stop him.
“Spencer, wait, it’s not-” 
But he was out the door and down the hall before either of you could convince him to stay. A pit of dread and guilt was brewing in both of your guts. Now that Spencer knew, it was only a matter of time before everyone else did. It wasn’t that you didn’t want the team to know, it was more of the legality stuff you’d have to go through when they did. 
You sighed heavily, rubbing your temples stressfully. Aaron rested a hand on your shoulder, his deep, sarcastic voice sounding out.
“That went well.”
795 notes · View notes
geminil0vr · 3 years
Text
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"lists" | ron b. weasley (part one)
read part two here !!
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summary; you and your boyfriend ron are both completely inexperienced, but one day he asks you what you like in bed. lucky for you, you actually made a list. and he's happy enough to play a few of those fantasies out.
tagged; @weasleyssupremacy
word count; 4.6k
content; smut, fluff, banter, making out, embarrassment, shit ton of blushing, mentions of kinks, mentions of teasing, mentions of hitting, mentions of choking, mentions of sex, mentions of praise, mentions of degradation, cursing, grinding, finger-sucking, spit, cum swallowing, first time foreplay (male receiving oral, female receiving oral), fingering, handjob kinda, orgasms, teaching/instructions, relatively realistic, no aftercare included but you know damn well ron'll take care of you, not really a specific dom/sub dynamic, inexperienced/house-neutral fem!reader, inexperienced boyfriend!ron, think that's it but lemme know if i forgot anything !
a/n; holy shit this took me hours !! in this fic, ron and the reader are sixteen years old. i'm from the uk, where the legal age of consent is sixteen — more specifically, in england, wales and northern ireland, a minor is considered a person under the age of eighteen. and i do not want to write smut about minors, i will never do that. so i did a little more research, standard wiki shite, and in scotland (where hogwarts is) that age is sixteen. sixteen year olds and up are no longer minors in scotland. i know many of you are from different countries and therefore may feel uncomfortable with this age because it doesn't reflect the definition of minor/non-minor in your respective countries, and that is perfectly okay !! i completely understand, hope this made sense bc i'm too fucking exhausted to tell. feel free to scroll by and find another fic to read, please put in a request for any of the harry potter characters if u wish, and have a lovely day :))
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you hadn't done much with him.
just kissing, really. some grinding here and there. you were comfortable in each other's grasp, sure, but you both never quite went over that line, of more than kissing, of more than light touching.
didn't make you insecure. nor impatient. it was a comfortable kind of middle ground.
and in that middle ground, you were seated on his thighs, legs either side of him, kissing gently, tenderly. these were tepid, lukewarm, waters, just bordering on more, just bordering on scalding hot, and you didn't mind it. you didn't mind it at all.
pulling back, lips not too swollen, just pink, you smiled softly down at ron weasley.
"you okay?" he asked. you hadn't meant to start kissing, you were just talking, just hanging out, him levitating a marble in his empty bedroom, you reading a book and making sure he didn't try and levitate a lamp — that never went well. not with ron weasley. but he got bored, and your eyes wouldn't focus on the pages, and you'd forgotten your reading glasses and he'd kissed you sweetly, and you'd kissed him back and now... now, you were snogging. you didn't care much for that word. it sounded weird, and heavy, and hot. and things with ron (so far, at least) weren't weighted, and hot, they were warm, and soft, and him.
you took the time to rifle your fingers through his red hair. he'd been letting it grow, just a little, down to the nape of his neck. "yeah, you?"
he grinned cheekily, nose and cheeks flushed already. of course, this was the usual. one kiss from you turned him pink, not out of awkwardness, just passion, you supposed. it was rather cute. and he pushed you further up in his lap, not too close, but closer. you grinned back. you kissed. and you pulled away again, just to look at him.
he took in a sharp breath, before blurting out something he’d wanted to ask for the longest time, "what do you like?"
"hmm?" you tilted your head.
he swallowed. “what do you like?"
"i'm gonna need some context here."
"in bed." now you felt as flushed as he looked. to ask that question, it must've taken a lot of courage. he was a gryffindor after all.
even starting a sentence caused your breathing to pick up. "well, you know i've never done anything before..." that was true. but you'd done your research. you'd actually made a list of what you thought you might like, which was idiotic in retrospect, and quite childish, but you'd done it, and it sat in your bag with a burning prescence.
"but surely you know... ya’ know, what you might like?"
you settled back, more comfortably in his lap, arms still around his neck, but you were less close. "why're you asking?" you teased.
"you know why!" ron groaned, burying his head into your shoulder, and he felt your shoulders shake with nervous laughter.
"well, i guess, i have — well... nevermind." he moved back, face burning, with an eager smile plastered on his face.
"go on, tell me! i want to know."
"it's embarrassing!"
"i won't make fun."
"yes, you absolutely will."
"won't."
"will."
"just tell me."
you swallowed and chewed nervously at your lip. "i've made a list."
"alright, tell me." if he said 'tell me' one more time you would strangle him. speaking of choking, and all that —
"promise you won't judge?"
"promise."
"well it's more of... well, it's not a mental list. i've written it down."
a grin broke out on your boyfriend's face, and you smacked his bicep.
"oi, you said you wouldn't judge!"
"i'm not judging! it's just cute, 's all." his smile faded a little. "so, about that list... why don't you go fetch it?" he said, with a sideways nod of his head.
"fetch? i'm not a dog."
he made the excited face he always had before he told a bad joke. for fucks sake. "aw, well, i figured pet play would be on your list —"
"shut up, shut up, shut up!" with each 'shut up' you punched his chest and he crossed his arms over it to protect himself.
"hitting, is that your kink too?" well, you weren’t exactly opposed.
you groaned and swung your leg over him, "i'm gonna go get my fucking list."
getting up and 'fetching' your bag, you searched through it and found your little, blue notepad. as soon as you'd returned to the four poster bed, ron reached out to grab it, and you quickly pulled back.
"no, i have more than just 'kinks' in there. and i don't wanna tell you everything."
"why not?" he was genuinely confused. that was the problem with these weasley boys: no boundaries.
"if i tell you everything about me then what secrets will i have left?"
"secrets are overrated." he stared blankly at you, shrugging, but still wrapped his arms around your waist comfortably as you swung your leg back over to sit on his thighs. as you flipped through the pages of the notepad, you found what you had been searching for. 27 pages in, hidden between random pencil scrawls, was your list. you'd learned about sex from books, and your friends' experiences, and being a sixteen year old at what is technically a boarding school. and though that wasn't the highest form of education, you knew enough to keep safe, and to feel good, and ron knew enough, too. "so, start reading!"
looking over the first line, your cheeks burned and you shook your head. "i can't say that!"
"want me to turn around?"
"no, i — no. i'm just gonna..." you slid all the way up his lap, ron attempting to ignore that you were right over his crotch in a pair of pretty blue jeans, and hid your face in the crook of his neck, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, embarrassed by your childish ways.
"c—" ron's voice broke, and you fought a smile, "comfy?"
"yeah. i'm ready now." you swallowed, breaths shallow and voice shaky as you brought your list up to your eyes. "um, well, i've heard about, uh —" he rubbed a hand up and down your back. you couldn't see him, but he was grinning and biting his tongue in anticipation. "pet play."
"you bloody liar, tell me the real list! don't be a pussy."
"fine, fine. no pet play. but i, uh, think choking sounds hot." your voice was slightly less shaky as you kept your flaming cheeks out of view. ron was bright red, too.
"uhuh. what next?" his voice was quiet and trembling now, grip on your waist tighter. the atmosphere of his dorm room had completely shifted.
"and, um, teasing. 's hot." your eyes flitted to the next word, trying to keep your composure as ron's grip on your waist tightened even more, keeping you still on top of him. "i like being praised, but being degraded is — it sounds... good."
ron had to fight the urge to groan, not out of frustration, but pure lust. you were by no means innocent, in fact, you tended to make a sex joke every day, or comment 'that's what she said' at every euphemism, but he never expected to hear those words actually slip from your lips. he couldn't speak, his voice got stuck in his throat, and he knew if he even tried his voice would break and go all high-pitched.
"then, hair pulling. hard sex, soft sex." both of your hearts were beating so fast, and you squeezed your legs against him. it was a nervous action, but you didn't expect him to let out a high gasp, and you certainly didn't expect him to grow firmer beneath you. "spanking, breeding, maybe, we'll see." he closed his eyes and let out a low exhale that he’d been holding in.
you pressed your hips harder down onto him, and his nails dug into your thighs. you'd been in this position before, while kissing, but this felt like pure filth, you telling him what you wanted him to do to you, and him just listening, and him getting hard. i mean, he'd been hard beneath you before, on top of you even, but it never led to anything more, and you didn't think you'd ever felt him this hard.
"i — i think i like biting. anywhere, really. not too hard. you have to be gentle with me." you had pulled back a little now, eyes still glued to your notepad, head turned a little so your lips were almost touching his ear. tentatively, you looked away. the tips of his ears were burning hot, and red. you took the lobe between your teeth, biting softly, tongue darting out just a little. his hips bucked up into yours, and you both moaned quietly. "and licking." you slid your tongue over his warm skin, just below his ear, then curved your spine to lick further over the expanse of his neck, causing him to let out another breathy moan.
"fuck..."
"and, spit. i think it's hot. i've thought about it, about you, before. i dunno." you kept your tone unsure, in hesitation. you had more on your list, just things you found hot, situations you found hot, but you closed it and pulled back, unwrapping your arms from around his neck and fiddling with the notepad between your fingers. that was enough, for now. ron was breathing heavily. you were breathing heavily. everything felt hot, and heavy, and it wasn't the norm, not with ron, but you liked it.
"th— that was... good. a good list." he choked, hands still on your thighs.
"yeah."
a tense silence settled between you, until he wrapped one arm around your waist, hand slipping up your back, the other in your hair, and brought you into a feverish kiss. you grinded down on him, moaning into his mouth feeling the reminder of how hard he was, chucking the list to the side and sliding your hands up his shirt as your tongues explored each other's mouths. it felt good. really good. better than you could have expected.
ron gently nibbled at your bottom lip, before pulling away and moving his focus to your neck. you tilted your head to the side, hurriedly moving your hair to the side to give him better access. he licked teasingly up your neck, and you dug crescent moons into his abdominal as he began sucking and biting at the skin beneath your ear, and your pulse point, and soon your collarbone, and before you knew it your sweater was pulled off and he sucked and licked against the skin right above your breasts. this was the first time he'd seen you without a top on, just in a plain, black bra, and he was damn well going to savour it.
you tried to hold back moans, but it seemed impossible when he was burning beneath you, so you did what was natural. you grinded against him and whined as he trailed wet kisses all over your chest, and after a while of you arching your chest into his mouth, you realised what he was doing.
your voice came out breathless, almost breaking. "you're teasing me."
he stopped his trail of kisses to move his face back to yours. "what, you thought i wasn't listening?"
"well, stop." you whined, scratching your nails over his abdomen once more, earning a shallow moan from him.
"i thought you liked it." he tilted his head, almost smirking.
you swiped your tongue over your bottom lip, chest heaving, as you took your hands from under his shirt. "just touch me. please." ron took a moment to take his own shirt off, and you admired the freckles dotted over his pale yet flushed chest and shoulders until he wrapped his arms around you, unhooking your bra clumsily, fingers shaking with lust. you gripped his shoulders, fingers gliding over each mole as your eyes darted over his features.
"so fucking pretty." he licked and kissed underneath your right breast, cupping the other one in his large hand, and your mouth dropped open, brows furrowed in pleasure as he took a nipple into his mouth, looking up at you as you grinded down onto him.
"ron, fuck, i'm too sensitive."
you watched him grin as he slowed his movements and instead licked softly once over your nipple as you threw your head back. you were the hottest thing he'd ever seen. well, he'd only ever seen his brother's porn magazines so there wasn't much competition. but he could say without a doubt that you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, your back arched, your head thrown back, your chest flushed. so pretty. but if he didn't speed things up he was sure he would cum in his jeans. you caught his lips in yours once more, struggling with the buckle on his jeans. you knew you wouldn't have sex, not today. but other things were always possible. that thought made your head spin with anxiety and need.
after a little while, you resorted to quickly tugging off your own jeans, ron doing the same, and soon you were back in the same position, except you could really feel him against you. you both looked down at the sight of you in your panties on top of him in his blue boxers, and both laughed breathlessly, kissing once more before you slid off and between his legs. if you'd stayed any longer, he might've felt how fucking wet you were.
"y/n..."
"it's okay, i want to do this. do you? we don't have to." he nodded his head, bottom lip between his teeth. "okay. just tell me what to do, okay? tell me what you like, ronnie."
‘ronnie’ didn't think he'd last that long when your hands were gripping at his thighs and you were on your knees, in only your underwear, between his legs. "okay. yeah."
you cautiously slipped down his underwear, pausing for a second as his flushed and red cock smacked up against his stomach. fuck, he was big, and already dripping precum. you were almost mesmerised with him before you remembered that he might be self conscious, so you proceeded to slip his underwear all the way off, throwing it off the side of the bed and coming closer to him, laying on your stomach and trailing a finger soothingly up and down his thigh. "so pretty." you teased, mimicking him from before, but as you looked up at his desperate face, mouth open, cheeks red, brows raised slightly, you decided that maybe teasing wasn't the best decision in that moment.
so, you wrapped a hand around his cock, feeling it twitch in your hand as ron moaned, head thrown back just like you had before. "that feels good."
"i haven't even done anything yet." you chuckled, looking up at him expectantly until his blue eyes met your own. "tell me what to do."
he gulped. "right, so you just wanna... make your hand wet. spit in your hand. you should like that." he couldn't believe he was saying this to you, or even joking in this moment, because right there, he was totally and utterly at your mercy.
you removed your hand from him, finding your mouth already salivating, and instead of licking your hand, you gathered your spit and let it drop from your tongue down onto it. he groaned as you looked up at him. fuck, he definitely wouldn't last long if you did more shit like that. taking your slick hand, you guided it up and down his cock, hesitantly dragging it over the tip, making him buck up into your hand and drip out even more precum. "fuck, uh... be careful with the tip. it's sensitive."
"sorry." he went to tell you not to apologise, but then you avoided going directly over the tip, collecting more of the precum, and the amount of spit and slick on your hand was creating lewd, wet sounds. if he tried to speak now, he’d probably just whine. testing the (now, scalding hot) waters, you dragged your tongue up his shaft, and he moaned even louder. he seemed to like that, so you did it again, and again, then put the tip in your mouth, pushing your lips down onto it until you got scared that your teeth would graze him.
"fuck, just like that, y/n, you’re so good."
seems he took more notes than you gave him credit for. or maybe this was natural? shit, is this how he spoke normally? he would drive you insane.
and how the fuck did people not use their teeth? at this point, you wanted to hear more of those beautiful sounds coming from your boyfriend's mouth, but also wanted to ask him. so you slowly took your mouth off, making him look down at you in concern.
"ron, how... i'm worried i'll use my teeth."
ron wasn't sure how to answer that, being just as inexperienced as you were, but he tried to use what he heard his friends talking about in the boys dorm.
"i think you just, try to wrap your lips down over your teeth. or you purse your lips. like an ice pop." you chuckled, and so did he. "i guess you have to make your tongue flat and then cover the top ones."
"okay, i'll try..." but before you went down again, he spoke once more.
"and, don't swallow the cum. doesn't taste great."
you nodded, and he watched you as you tried the technique, getting down even further, causing him to grip at your hair. he didn't push you down, just needed something to hold onto other than the bedsheets, that was all. and after all, you did quite like hair pulling. you moved his thick cock in and out of your mouth, wrapping your hands around the parts where your mouth couldn't reach, and looked up as ron's grip tightened on you. you didn't bother touching his balls — that was an experiment for another day.
"fuck, i'm gonna cum," you moved your mouth to just the tip, as more groans left his lips. "y/n, shit, don't swallow, just take your — fuck, take your mouth off."
you were stubborn. so stubborn in fact, that you kept suckling at the tip of his cock as he jerked up into your mouth, body freezing, as you swallowed load after load. you just wanted to please him. and thank merlin you'd done all those water (and to be honest, butterbeer) chugging competitions with lee, or you'd have been absolutely done for. he was right, it didn't taste good, at all. it was salty, and bitter, and as you took your mouth off him and let his slowly softening dick slap against his thigh, you almost winced at the flavour.
ron's chest was pink and flushed with perspiration, head thrown back against the headboard and eyes firmly closed, recovering. "fuck. told you."
"'s not the worst thing in the world. i'd do it again."
"don't say that or i'll get hard again." he reached for his boxers off the side of the bed, awkwardly slipping them on in a sitting position.
you chuckled, reaching to his bedside table to gulp down some water, head fuzzy and chest warm with the accomplishment of pleasing your boyfriend. he wiped a hand over his forehead, taking the glass out of your hand to take a big sip himself before putting it down.
"well, that was exhausting." he groaned.
"tell me about it. my bloody jaw hurts." you grinned, and he smiled back and rushed to peck you on the lips firmly, sending you to fall back against the covers as he hovered on top of you. "what're you doing?"
"don't think i'm done with you just yet." he grinned, but faltered. "unless you don't want to. i don't want to force you or anything, just tell me if —" you shut the clumsy boy up with another kiss, clasping your hands behind his neck and grabbing at his soft hair, wrapping your legs around his waist. you clenched around nothing as you felt his soft cock beneath his boxers against your soaked panties.
"it'd be my pleasure." you muttered against his lips. and he grinded into you once more before moving you so your head was against the headboard, and him between your legs.
"oh, how the turn tables, hmm?"
"shut it, loverboy." you shook your head, biting your lip and looking down at him as he trailed his nails down your inner thighs, making you arch your back a little. "and what did i say about teasing?"
"that it's hot." his crooked smile made your stomach clench.
"that you should stop." your complaints were ignored as the humour in the room dropped, and he looked at the wet patch seeping through your underwear. he seemed transfixed, swiping the pad of his thumb over it, before hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties and pulling them off, tossing them to the side.
taking his middle finger, he swiped it through your soaked folds, making you whine. "you're dripping." his voice got much deeper, and his throat felt dry, but if he opened his mouth he was sure he'd drool. "did it turn you on, sucking..." he cleared his throat. "sucking my dick?"
you didn't reply, just bucked your hips up into his touch as he paused.
he pressed on. "so?"
"yes, it did." you were so desperate that you actually pouted your lips. seeing ron talk so dirty, despite his hesitance, was the second reason you were dripping. you didn't know he'd be like that. though you should've expected it.
but his shyness hadn't left just yet. "can you... can you tell me what to do?"
you tried to catch your breath, his finger was still over your clit, not firmly pressing, just there. you got distracted for a second, looking down and subtly pushing your hips up, before you bit your lip, swallowed, and met his eyes again. he seemed to be amused by that. "uh, so... you just get your fingers nice and wet, first."
it even surprised ron when he removed his finger from you, and held up his hand to your mouth. your breath hitched. "you're probably wet enough anyway, but go on, then. 's what you like, right?"
you nodded nervously, taking his wrist and putting three of his fingers into your mouth. you sucked them in, making sure to get enough drool all over 'em, before messily removing them and letting spit string down to your tits. ron watched it all, dick growing hard again. he was sure now. you would be the hottest thing he'd ever see in his entire life. you let go of his wrist as he let the rest of the spit drip onto your pussy, the air leaving you cold as he spread it around with his fingers, up your folds, circling your hole. the avoidance of your clit made you throw your head back, as he teased you. he knew exactly where the clit was, frankly, it was pretty clear to see, all red and swollen and big. he was doing this on purpose.
"please, ronnie." you whined.
"okay, okay. what next?"
"you need to touch my... my clit. and maybe put a finger in, but, be gentle, please?"
"you've never fingered yourself before?" his voice broke.
"i tried, just one, but, it's not really comfy when i do it. too tight. fingers aren't long enough, maybe. i don't know." you swallowed nervously. speaking about your personal sexual experiences was embarrassing. ron found it hot.
he took your advice, slick fingers brushing over your clit, then paying more attention to it, playing with it, even pinching it, turning you into a whimpering mess. figuring you were prepared enough, ron gently dragged his middle finger over to your hole. "gonna put a finger in, now. ready?"
"yeah, please."
you gasped and gripped his arm. he eased in slowly, and fuck, you were tight. you'd broken you hymen before, probably by either walking, riding your bike, or simply experimenting on yourself, so there was no resistance as he reached his finger all the way in, just a slight discomfort on your part. he almost began to start moving, but you tightened your grip. "just a second, ron. your finger's bigger than i'm used to." that sentence made him rut into the bed, as he followed your instruction and stayed still. your body relaxed, and he even felt you begin to unclench around him, your ridges less restricting. "it's okay now, you can — fuck."
he'd started sliding his finger in and out, slowly, as soon as you gave the 'okay', and this was definitely better than you could have ever done to yourself. you weren't sure you could come just from this, but you didn't care, it felt good. you'd heard one way to make it better, though.
"try curling up your finger — oh." if this boy could only give you a chance to breathe. that change in movement was hitting a spongey spot inside you that made you clench your thighs together, which he fixed by using his elbow to spread one, and his free hand to hold down the other. you brought one foot up to his back, needing some kind of stability. "you okay?" he asked, which was a loaded question considering that his thumb accidentally brushing over your clit made your entire body jerk, and you weren't just okay, you were bloody brilliant, the blinding pleasure bordering on pain.
"fuck, touch my clit, please." you moaned, head thrown back as he did as you said, making your entire body spasm. you were so close, so fucking close, and you practically rode his fingers as you thrashed up and down, tits bouncing. you were just about to tell him you were gonna come (though with you non-stop clenching around his one finger, it was pretty obvious) when he decided to try something, removing his thumb from your clit and instead sucking onto it.
he'd heard about eating girls out, and it was something he'd always wanted to do to you, to drive you crazy, and if he couldn't do it now he was going to at least include his mouth into some of the action. he wanted to taste you.
with this surprise, you came hard, the heel of your foot pressing into his back, his hand working hard to hold down your other thigh, stomach clenching and eyes rolling back. you were moaning so much and so loudly that you were glad almost everyone was out at hogsmeade. as you came down from your high, ron removed his lips from your clit and slowly removed his finger, your aftershocks trying to suck him back in. your back, forehead and chest were sweating, your entire mouth dry as your eyes stayed closed. ron rubbed his hands soothingly up your thighs as your body spasmed again, and brought himself up to kiss your forehead, a grin that you couldn't see playing at his lips. he wrapped his arms around you as you sighed and leaned into him.
"fuck." you sighed, opening your heavy eyes and glancing at ron who licked the rest of your cum off his fingers, looking up at the ceiling. you were still clenching around nothing. that was the hardest you'd ever came, even better than the showerhead — oh, ron would have an absolute riot if he knew you used the showerhead. "thank you."
he gave you that dumb fucking grin, the one he always had before making a bad joke. "orange you glad you read out that list?"
"shut up and kiss me. idiot."
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