#I always made au of crime au eventually

[lastoftruebeliever]

Sympathy for the Devil

Between the Naberie and the Jedi, they own most of New York. Too bad Anakin Skywalker, the new family lawyer and the heiress to Naberie Crime Family, Padme Amidala don't like each other.

[planet-hwa]

: ̗̀➛ immunity to my charms ✧༺♥༻∞

summary  your friendship with wooyoung blossomed at the start of university, and being friends with him came along with his charming and flirtatious personality. even if you flirted back, you always believed you were immune to his true charms… god were you so wrong.

pairing  wooyoung x reader word count  4.7k genre  university/frat au, best friends to …undetermined

warnings  MDNI !!  pet names/nicknames, teasing, mentions of vomiting, alcohol consumption, mentions of previous hookups, swearing smut: unprotected sex (wrap it up irl!!), breast play, cunnilingus, accidental overstimulation, aftercare

: ̗̀ ♪  i’m not immune to you, i’m only human now playing moonlight magic by ashnikko

in queue ✧  all mine by plaza ✧  dangerous by thomas larosa ✧  igloo by kiss of life ✧  make you mine by madison beer ✧  more than friends by isabel larosa

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ welcome page ⭒ masterlist ⭒ wooyoung masterlist ⭒ requests

The library sat in silence, the only sounds being the clock ticking on the wall and the whispered conversations between well focused students. Flipping the pages of your ‘Crime, Criminality and Criminal Justice’ textbook, you jot down crucial notes needed for your end of year exams. Your knuckles were stained in red and blue colours due to the amount of time you had spent writing, which by now would have been at least a few hours. Soft tunes were playing through your headphones, never being able to truly focus on work without having some sort of musical stimulation. The volume lowered quickly, followed by a ding of message notifications.

woo ♡ hey darling, what are you doing tonight? i’m assuming nothing because you have no friends, other than the one and only 😏 y/n that’s weird, i don’t remember calling us friends woo ♡ you’re right. you called me your best friend!! y/n and i’ve regretted it ever since woo ♡ 😘 y/n 🤢 anyways, i’m not doing anything tonight except rewatching criminal minds and shoving copious amounts of junk food into my face woo ♡ wow boring… and low-key depressing, do you need therapy again? whatever. does that mean you don’t want to come to the frat house tonight for a little party? y/n what’s the occasion? woo ♡ to get drunk and make bad decisions 🫡 y/n okay, i’m in.

As the uber drove down the street, music became visibly louder until you were sat outside the large frat house. Even before entering the house, you could feel your ears prepare themselves to be ringing the next day. There were crowds of people conversing, all holding random alcoholic beverages in their hands. Some people were behind bushes either vomiting or peeing, it was best not to find out which one. Making your way up the front stairs and through the crowded hallways, you eventually made it to the living room, scanning all the drunken faces for any familiarity. Now realising that what Wooyoung meant by ‘a little party’ was actually one of their monthly ragers they throw.

The ATZ Frat House was known to throw the best parties amongst all the colleges in the area. They always remained the talk of the town for the passing month until the next one occurred. Whether it was because the police were called, or because Mingi and San were jumping off the roof and into their backyard pool, there was always something that people couldn’t stop boasting about.

Still studying the room, your eyes finally landed on two friendly faces, Mingi and Yunho, the two tallest members of the frat. Both had beers in their hands and were bopping along to the music, Mingi screaming incoherent drunk lyrics into Yunho’s ears, and him trying to save himself from hearing loss. Pushing through the dancing bodies, you reached your hand out and were welcomed in with a spin from Yunho, slightly losing balance and falling into his chest with a laugh.

“Y/N! You made it!” Yunho shouted, trying to get his voice higher than the music levels. He held out his drink and offered a taste, quickly accepting the liquor.

“Of course! Wooyoung said this was gonna be a lot smaller though.” Taking a small sip and grimacing at the bitter taste, you’ve never really been a beer drinker. “By the way, where is he?”

“Not sure, but there’s drinks in the kitchen and he put some in the fridge for you.” Yunho smiled brightly at you, still swaying with the music.

“THIS THAT GAME OF THRONES, YEEZY, NOT THE CLONES!!” Mingi yelled behind you, aggressively jumping up and down like he was at a middle school dance. 

Sending him a quick smile and a small chuckle, you ventured through the crowd again to enter the kitchen. There were only two or three people in there, most either outside or snug in the living room. You opened the fridge to find your favourite alcohol staring back at you, a small sticking note with the words ‘Y/N’s, no touching!’ written on it.

“I chose right, didn’t I, love?” A voice breathed into the crook of your neck, two arms wrapping around your waist tightly. Two very familiar arms. You grabbed one of the bottles and spun around to face your friend, a cocky smirk curled on the corners of his lips. He wore his favourite red hoodie that hung off his shoulders slightly, unzipped enough to reveal a peak of his bare chest. “I know you so well.”

“Do you own any other clothes or just that one hoodie?” You raised an eyebrow, taking a quick sip of your drink which he was quick to snatch and have a sip himself.

“Don’t lie, you love it.” He smirked, his hands still resting on your waist. He was telling the truth, you did love the way he looked in that specific hoodie, the way he would wear it so it fell enough to show off the top of his muscular pecs. But you would never admit that and risk feeding into his already enormous ego. His hands fell from your waist, his fingertips leaving a light trace of your curves as they met your hand, unwarranted goosebumps arose on your skin to the touch. Gripping tightly, he led you both back into the living room to join the majority of dancers, surrounding yourself with his other fraternity brothers and the girls some had on their hips.

You hated to admit it but there was always a part of you that wanted more from Wooyoung. More flirtatious remarks, more feather-light touches… more intense touches. There was always the dream of moving up from a friendship. You heard the way the girls on campus would talk about how Wooyoung was in bed, you heard about the ‘sex god’ he was from him himself, but the overheard whispers from the people he slept with were more confirmation that he had a reason to be so confident in his work. It’s not that he had never made a move on you. He consistently attempted it at the beginning of your relationship, but as it grew to higher levels of friendship, it died down. Flirty comments that were laced with sexual intent became closer to simple compliments, body language remained physical but grew more casual. There was always underlying teasing but it was a part of your usual friendship banter. You adore your best friend and the relationship you two have and want nothing more than for it to remain the same, but if you could go back in time; would you have accepted his advances better?

The bass was blasting through the room, the floors vibrating under everyone’s feet. The night hadn’t slowed down, everyone still dazed with energy and alcohol. You were dancing with some of your friends who all had someone connected to them. San, another member of the ATZ Frat, was behind you. His hands rested on your hips, guiding your movements to fit with his rhythm. Your bodies were glued together, grinding against each other to the music. You and San had a small history of hookups, but always stuck to being good friends, though it didn’t stop the two of you from having fun every now and then. Mingi was still bobbing up and down, yelling and throwing his hands up childishly, Yunho next to him but too preoccupied by swapping saliva with a brunette girl from the year below.

You were a few drinks down now… three… maybe four, plus the additional ten or so shots, but you had never felt better. All your worries about school and life problems vanished into thin air the moment liquor had hit your tongue. All you could think about was San grinding against your ass, silently wishing it was someone else. Your eyes surveyed the room, searching for your best friend, eventually landing your gaze on him. He was on the opposite side of the dance floor, his lips locked with someone the girl you didn’t like. Ever since you started college, she has hated you for no reason. You never even spoke to her but the death glares she would shoot your way made it clear you would never be friends. And Wooyoung knew how she was towards you, so why would he be making out with her? Of course, you had no control over who he could hook up with, but you would think he would choose any of the other girls who throw themselves at him every party over this bitch. The worst thing was; you couldn't tell if you were upset he was making out with the girl who tries to make college a living hell for you, or the fact that it wasn’t you…

Wooyoung’s eyes met yours in a piercing stare, sharply watching you over the girl’s shoulder. He had never targeted you with such an intense look in his eyes. They were glistening with emotions, some harder to depict than others. One thing was certain; there was anger in them, with an unknown emotion underlying it. His glare was sending chills through your entire body, the hairs on the back of your neck spiked up. Though his lips were attached to someone else, his gaze was set on watching your every move with San. It was confusing and was making your head begin to spin out of control. The true state of your intoxication was preparing to spill, your cheeks began to go numb and you could feel the vomit creeping up your throat. You swiftly left San’s grasp, receiving an unappeased reaction, until he processed the state you were in and let you go without retaliation. Fighting your way between sweaty dancers and passionate make outs caused your brain to rapidly beat in your skull, your eyes began to paint themselves black and you were sitting on the brink of passing out. The sudden cool air of the empty kitchen slapped you in the face, eyes closing at the refreshing feeling. You made your way to the sink, grabbing a plastic cup and pouring yourself some water. chugging down the cool liquid quickly, it felt as if you had been dehydrated for weeks. The nausea feeling subsided the moment the water hit your lips, the drums in your head became quieter and your vision became more clear again. You pushed the cup aside and lifted yourself onto the bench resting your head on the upper cabinets.

The kitchen was empty, leaving you in complete silence, the only noise being muffled music from the other room. This was the most peace you had felt since arriving. Your mind drifted back to Wooyoung, there were so many questions that needed answering. Why would he hook up with her? Why was he looking at you the whole time? Why was he angry? The constant overthinking had the band in your head begin to play again. You sighed and slowly rubbed your temples, trying to focus on the solitude of the room and not on…

Music filled the room in a haste, bouncing off the walls and leaving just as quick. Quiet footsteps could be heard entering the room, the door sliding shut behind them.

“Y/N?” The voice, all too familiar, held by the one person you didn’t particularly want to see at the moment. You didn’t lift your head or open your eyes, sending silent prayers that he would get the message and leave. But it’s Wooyoung, of course he wouldn’t leave.

“Y/N.” The sternness in his voice came as a shock. You glanced up and were met with an annoyed expression masking Wooyoung’s face.

“I’m fine, I just needed a break.” You sighed, reapplying pressure to your temples. “Go back to your little hook up, I’m sure she’s missing your company.”

Wooyoung scoffed, pushing his hair back with his hand just for the front strands to fall back to covering his face. “Is that why you looked so mad just now? Because I was hooking up with her?”

The emphasis on the last word proved he already knew the answer. He knew how you felt about her and how she felt about you. He knew that you usually didn’t care about his hookups, but because it was with her; you cared. He knew that you being upset wasn’t just because of her.

“Why would you even go for her when you could get any girl you want?”

“Because the girl I want doesn’t seem to want me back.” He slowly drifted towards you, settling himself in between your knees and resting his hands on your thighs. “Don’t you?”

His thumb started to swirl small circles on the sides of your thighs. The simple touch mixed with Wooyoung’s alcohol rasped voice caused butterflies to flourish in your stomach. Lifting your gaze to meet him, his deep brown eyes were filled with emotions as they looked back at you. Fully processing his past comment and realising he had never been this forward with you, with anyone you've seen him with.

“Woo, we can’t.” You breathed, barely coming out as an audible whisper. “Because we’re-”

“Because we’re friends, I know.” Abruptly interrupting with his usual sass. “But you can’t say that and then go and hook up with San, again, as if the two of you aren’t friends as well.”

“That’s different.”

“Why? Because he’s not your best friend?”

“Exactly.”

“Okay,” was all he could spill out. An uncomfortable silence filled the room, so silent that the muffled beats in the background sounded as if they were miles away. Wooyoung’s thumbs ceased their movement, his eyes now staring at his hands on you. “If you truly have no feelings for me, none that exceed friendship, then tell me and I will leave it alone. We can go back to being best friends and forget this whole conversation. Just tell me.”

‘No feelings that exceed friendship’ 

Those five words rattled around in your head. You couldn’t deny that your feelings for Wooyoung did exceed friendship. You tried for so long to push it down thinking he never felt the same, but he just proved you wrong. The overthinking began to creep in; did he actually mean it, was he just trying to get laid, and if he was then why didn’t he stick with the blonde, did he just want to play with you? Your breath hitched and your heartbeat was as prominent as ever, it felt as if it was about to tear out of your chest.  

The silence that followed you was concerning to Wooyoung, thoughts of uncertainty were filing into his brain. Had he crossed the line by suggesting anything? The tension between the two of you that was obvious in every room, was it truly one-sided the entire time? He lifted his head, your eyes instantaneously connecting, as he searched for any sign of hesitancy. Your gaze shifted around his face, examining every little detail; from his sharp features to the mole under his eye and on his bottom lip, his lips holding a small pout at the corners. The dim kitchen lights caused shadows to cascade around his face, he had never looked more beautiful.

Were you really about to do this?

Without hesitation, your hand moved up to his face, gently cupping his jaw. Gravity pulled his face gradually closer to yours, lips mere inches apart — so close that your warm alcoholic breaths mixed in the air between. Wooyoung was quick to notice that you weren’t in a hurry to pull away from him, and even quicker to crash his lips into yours. Before letting the regret burn through your body, you fell deeply into the kiss, his soft lips caressing yours in a synced motion. His hands gingerly held your face, fingers lightly tracing your jawline as his body moved closer. The kiss immediately grew fiery and needy, Wooyoung’s tongue tracing your bottom lip and slipping in to explore your mouth. Your tongues danced rhythmically together, alcohol lingering in the taste you shared. Butterflies fluttered around in your stomach once again as Wooyoung’s hands wandered around your body, shifting from your waist to your hips, reaching for any part he could touch. Pulling away for air, you watched as Wooyoung chased your lips, concentrating on your moves through hooded eyes. “Let’s go to your room.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” He smirked, taking hold of your hand and leading you out of the kitchen. As you walked through the crowded room and towards the stairs, the girl he was previously making out with ran up to you.

“Wooyoung, come dance with me again!” She whined pathetically. Her gaze — turned to a glare — went to your connected hands, face screwing at the sight. 

“Not interested sweetheart.” Wooyoung dismissed and continued up the stairs, ignoring her scoffs.

“You’re not seriously gonna hook up with this whore, are you? She wouldn’t be as good as me and you know it-”

“I said fuck off, didn’t I?” He shouted, knowing she’d hear even over the music. His grip on your hand tightened before pulling you away and into his room, leaving the girl in shock.

Wooyoung’s lips pashed into yours once again as soon as the bedroom door closed, this time with more desperation, his tongue instantly clashing with yours. After all the years of wanting to kiss you and now finally getting to, he was addicted in an instant — hypnotised by your touch. Your back pushed up against the wall, trapped between it and Wooyoung’s frame, hands tangled at the nape of his neck and lightly tugging on the hair. He groaned into the kiss, sending flutters straight to your core, his hard-on pressing tightly against his jeans and poking you in the thigh. Guiding you to the bed, lips still relentlessly fixed on each other, your clothes began decorating the bedroom floor leaving you both in your underwear. Your knees hit the edge of the bed, gently falling back, Wooyoung crawled up your body not wanting to miss a second of your touch. He lust-filled eyes stared deeply into yours, looking for any uncertainty, only to be matched with the same desire he felt. His lips traveled your body; from yours, to your jawline, your neck and shoulders. Anywhere he could reach, he placed butter soft kisses, suckling on the sensitive skins and molding small hickeys into it. Fingers began to fiddle with your bra straps, Wooyoung’s free hand traveling around your waist and to your back, lightly lifting you and unclasping the band in a swift motion. His eyes were glued on your tits the moment they bounced out of the lace bra, it being thrown to an unknown corner of the room. Without hesitation, his mouth connected to your nipple, harshly sucking and rolling his tongue over the bud. Teeth tearing at your bottom lip in an attempt to keep your moans hidden, unnecessarily worrying that others might hear — as if they could over the bass of the speakers. Not leaving the other unattended, Wooyoung circled your nipple between two fingers, pinching and lightly twisting, earning a small whine from you. As he continued his actions, you began letting yourself go, hushed moans falling through your lips. A sudden poking developed between your bodies, Wooyoung’s hard-on now prominently pushing into his boxers as he groped at any part of your body he could reach.

“You know,” He purred, petaling kisses from your chest and down to your belly, falling lower and lower until he sat between your legs. “I’ve always dreamt about this; how you’d look… how you’d feel… how you’d taste.”

A red blush began arising under your cheeks as Wooyoung watched you through hooded eyes, his fingers slipping beneath the band of your panties and dragging them down your thighs. Smirking proudly, he stared at the affects he’s had on you tonight, your body unable to hide the fact with your glistening folds. Lips brushing against the plush skin of your thighs, moving dangerously close to where you wanted them the most but always avoiding direct contact. Your hips subconsciously followed Wooyoung’s movement, a mocking chuckle answered as he watched you desperately aching for his touch. As much as he wanted to keep teasing you, he too was yearning for your touch. Whimpers instantaneously furnished the room the moment his tongue flicked over your clit, plump lips sucking deeply at the surrounding skin. Coating his muscle in your essence, Wooyoung drunkenly lapped and swirled at your delicate bud, alcohol not being the only intoxication in his system. You were sweeter than he could have ever imagined, honey incomparable to the syrup that spilled from you. His low groans vibrated through your body, a completely new sensation electrifying beneath your skin, a man had never made you feel this good before. 

Your walls missed the absence of replete, hopelessly clenching around nothing. It was as if Wooyoung sensed it, immediately inserting a finger deep inside you, a second one quick to follow. Embracing his digits as they pumped in and out of you, lewd wet sounds sloshing over them, he began curling them and pressing on that delectable gummy spot.

“Woo- fuck… feels so good-” You cried out, hips starting to buck into him as the pressure built in your stomach. He gazed up at you, a smug smirk masking his face as he watched you begin to lose yourself beneath him. 

Feeling your body lightly tense, his fingers began to plunge harder into you, still lavishing your clit with thirsty slurps. Your climax was creeping closer by the second, body slightly trembling around Wooyoung as he devoured you. Your moans heighten — almost as loud as the music — so close to the edge that the stimulation pained you. Fingers curled inside of you, your clit racing like your heartbeat, your orgasm crashed down on you in a tsunami. Wooyoung moaned gutturally into your core as he felt your arousal drip down his chin and coat his fingers like a glazed donut. He never thought he’d experience that from you, and he was savouring every moment. Hungrily guzzling every drop of honey, he got so caught up in his cravings that he couldn’t stop himself, leading you to a state of overstimulation. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, one escaping and sliding down your cheek. Another tidal wave crashed through your body, this one more painful and pleasurable than the last. Wooyoung followed you down from your second high, slowly his motions and removing his fingers from you. He watched as your essence slid down them, irresistibly pushing them through his lips and licking them dry.

Your chest rose and fell, fighting for the ability to breathe once more. Wooyoung moved back up your body, apologetic eyes looking into yours as he wiped the tear stain from your cheek, laying peppered kisses on your lips. The softness didn’t last long, escalating to the need to be inside you once more. His pleading eyes met yours, the message conveying quickly, his boxers being discarded even faster. His length flung out lightly hitting his abdomen, precum leaking from the reddened tip. Wasting no time, he slid the tip through your drenched folds, the sensitivity hitting you both and causing him to hiss lightly. Lining himself with you, he slowly pushed himself in, your walls stretching at his size and pulling him deeper, breaths hitching as he bottomed out. “Fuck love, you’re so warm.”

Creating a steady rhythm, he began to pump in and out of you at a painfully slow pace, the stretch causing an uncomfortable pleasure. Your arms wrapped around his neck pulling him into a burning kiss. Lips crashing together like thunder, lightning electrified between your lightly sweat coated bodies, a mixture of desperate moans and the sound of slapping skin surrounded the room in a warm atmosphere. He struggled to hold himself back, so desperate for you to cum around his dick. His movement started to quicken the moment your legs wrapped around his waist urging him closer, your bodies sticking together like glue. Hips started rutting immeasurably deeper into you, your cervix being bruised by the second. Moans singing in his ears, he lifted his gaze and watched your face contort in pleasure, eyebrows furrowing and eyes rolling as he bucked desperately into you. His eyes shifted between your face and where you were connected, infatuated by the view he believed he’d never get to see.

“Woo, I’m so close.” The pit in your stomach tightening once more, ready to explode.

“Ah- me too, love.” His raspy voice shattered in your brain.

As climaxes were building closer to the edge, his thrusts became uncoordinated and his kisses hopelessly messy. Feeling the pressure in your belly begin to burst, you bucked your hips upwards to match his movement, his cock hitting that sweet spongy spot . His hand squeezed between your bodies, fingers circling your clit with purpose and pushing your third orgasm to wash over you. Lewd moans and curses fell through your lips along with a song of Wooyoung’s name, your gummy walls tightening around him and milking him to his own orgasm. Sloppy uneven thrusts rode you through your high, Wooyoung growing more desperate to chase his own. A guttural groan vibrating through the room, white ropes of cum warmed your insides, filling you up and leaking out as his thrusts softened. 

Falling from your highs, his body collapsed on top of yours, head burying itself into the crook of your neck. Your body wrapped around him like a koala, his length still deep inside you, twitching from sensitivity. Unmoving, both bodies were in no hurry to disconnect, sitting in the comfort silence, the smell of sex heavy in the air. 

A few minutes passed by, both of you falling back into normal breathing patterns. Wooyoung peppered soft kisses on your neck and lifting his face to meet yours, his sleepy eyes adoringly staring into yours before connecting yours lips in a velvety kiss. 

“Was that okay?” He asked, uncertainty lacing his voice. You had never seen him lack confidence in anything before, especially not sex and the way he constantly brags about how good he is in bed. Your opinion mattered more to him than anyone else’s, and to finally have you wrapped around him in more than a friendly movie night way, he needed reassurance.

Your hand cupped his face gently, a soft smile curling at the edge of your mouth. “It was perfect.”

A simpered smile appeared on his face before leaning back into your lips, delicate but filled with passion.

He slowly pulled himself off you, the cool hair grazing your tender core sending chills up your spine. Climbing off the bed, he walked into the bathroom without saying a word, seconds later reemerging with two glasses of water and some clean towels. Placing the water on the bedside table closest to you, he moved himself back between your legs, spreading your knees slightly as he began wiping away the mess you both made. The towel gently brushed over your folds causing you to wince from the sensitivity that lingered. The soft music from downstairs played in the background, you had completely forgotten that you were still at a party, but it wasn’t important to you.

Wooyoung discarded the towel across the room, it landing perfectly on the edge of the laundry basket. Once again crawling off the bed, he held his hand out for you, lifting you up. Your legs slightly trembled underneath you, your body feeling a sense of weakness.

“Let’s go take a shower, love.” Leading you to the bathroom, the water already running and a mist fogging through the room. There was no worries with you in this moment as you both stepped under the warm water, body’s tightly knit together in the small shower. You weren’t thinking about how this could affect your friendship once tomorrow came around, whether or not regret would overshadow the night. All your focus was on living in the current moment — on Wooyoung.

Tomorrow was in the back of your mind, without regret.

author's note hey pookies !! this is my first full fanfic, i hope its up to your expectations — it was a little rushed towards the end — if you enjoy it, i might make a part 2 ?? i think i might also make a san version since i mentioned hookups between them.

tag list @morethingsfandom @dreamsoffanfics @butterflydemons @youmeandwords @hwascutewife @e3ellie (people who reposted the teaser)

[risuola]

III — GAMBARE, GAMBARE // In the world of crime and blood, Sukuna knows what's off limits. You certainly are one of those things and yet, he's unable to stop thinking of you.

contents: smut, little angst-ish in some places, mafia!au, unprotected sex, a hint of body worshipping, violence, mentions of death, subtle threats, reader discretion is advised — 3,2k words

a/n: third part, thank you so much for support guys! it means the world to me to see how INSANELY big is the tag list now. i literally love y'all~ ❤️ also, just as the first part got inspired by the absolutely menacing quote from our king, it only felt natural to include the famous gambare, gambare (do your best) into this one.

ᴅᴇᴀᴅʟʏ ᴀᴛᴛʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ | masterlist

Sukuna prefers to think of himself as one of significant intelligence. Over the years, during which he ruled over the entire criminal milieu, he proved himself to stand atop of anyone who dared to even think of overturning his jurisdiction. All the exceptionally dumb bold ones that once wished to take the position of a boss from his hands had learned the hard way why troubles with Sukuna Ryomen are the least desirable fate of anyone who bears any volume of oil inside their brains.

It’s not only tactical or business intelligence that he’s priding himself with. It’s also the excessive knowledge about general rules of life that allowed him to comfortably push and pull the edges of what’s right and wrong, bending his own reality to his liking. Now it’s intuitive – he just knows where he can put more pressure and where it’s not worth his time. He knows what to bet his money on and what won’t realistically pay back. And most importantly, up until that point, Sukuna thought he can tell with his eyes closed which people he should consider crossing paths with, what men can be useful whilst he aims to reach his targets and which crowds he shouldn’t mess around with – for various reasons, most of which being just business and inconvenience. Same thing concerns women. Ryomen’s position works like a magnet and not a day passes by without girls, often way too young to even think of him, throwing themselves at him, led by fantasies of money and power veiled in the shades of love. If he wished, he could have a different toy every time the night falls and if he’d be just slightly less trained, he might have fallen for the temptation. But he didn’t.

Sukuna learned it from experience, not exactly his own, but of his pawns, that allowing random women in the proximity of their profession usually leads to catastrophes. Girls get persistent, they grow attached, they fall in love sooner than it’s even logical and then they threat, they blackmail; all of which eventually leads to their deaths because dealing with just barely adults that weaponize tears and screams is something he doesn’t allow in his circle. There were no exceptions, any man bearing similar power to Ryomen knows that there’s no place for romance in the world of death and bones, the one that’s stained in red and sorrow. If there happens to be love, it’s always of people from inside the criminal circle, sharing the same set of broken morals. Mafia should never tie itself romantically with civilians. Especially him, the leader, the menace that he is in the world of misdeed, murder and corruption, knew all too well why he should never, ever, even think of someone from outside of his tale as of anything more than one time plaything. That would be irresponsible, straight up naïve. It would be foolish. He knew all of that and not even once he felt any need to engage into any kind of relationship with someone that he deemed non-profitable to his general targets.

Then why the fuck he kept thinking of you? Why he kept seeing you after what was supposed to be a fun one-time fuck? Why did the taste of your lips and the sweet scent of your skin made him so completely addicted that he couldn’t focus on his own business without his mind wandering to the memory of you at least once an hour? He just liked your body, he told himself every time he thought of sending you a message. You were a good lay, it was purely physical. You did, after all, take his dick like you were born solely for this very purpose. He was meeting you only for sex and it was an accident that some of these meetings began with a dinner. All of the gifts he showered you with were just a form of payment for the service. Sukuna knew much better than to let his emotions take control of him.

“What’s on your mind?” Your quiet voice tore Ryomen out of the realm of his self-criticism. The tone that you spoked with was raspy, the testimony of the rough, throat-fucking he had used you for just few hours prior, and yet, it still somehow flowed with cottony softness, so characteristic to you.

“Nothing important,” he replied bluntly, lowering his gaze to where your face was buried into the broad muscle of his chest; your frame completely hidden in his own, much larger and stronger. It was another night you spent in his house, one of those that began with the reservation in one of Tokyo’s best restaurants that served traditional Japanese cuisine. You showed up in a dress made of dark olive silk, long enough to reach your high-heeled sandals and clinging to your shapes as if it was made to be worn over the divinity that was your body. The long, scandalous slit exposed one of your legs and the thin straps accentuated your shoulders and cleavage just perfectly. It was a dress that he himself bought and ordered to be delivered to you in an expensive box before that day. Now that very same gown was laying somewhere, discarded on the floor in the living room of his mansion.

“Sometimes I feel like you’re plotting my death,” you chuckled against his skin, the vibration of the act made him scoff because both him and you knew that the scenario you offered wasn’t exactly falling into the realm of fiction.

“If I were to kill you, I wouldn’t need to plot it. One bullet is all it would take,” he retorted with calm and despite any logic, instead of creating some distance, instead of running away you hummed at his statement and pressed your lips to the center of his chest.

You were way over fearing Sukuna and his world. The few months that you spend seeing him, you came to terms with the heavy weight of tragic fate that was now resting on your shoulders. It couldn’t end well, you shouldn’t tangle yourself with a man such as him, the path of your normal life should never come even close to the blood tainted one he was walking through. You should have never left the club with him and once you did, you should have run out his house the moment he gave you a chance. Instead of that, you stayed. That night, after the time of Ryomen’s pursue and the unfortunate event with Naoya and his gang, soon turned into two. Then just few more and then many more. The one-night stand evolved into continuous romance and though it was strewn with roses and intimacy, it came also with the realization that the more you see him, the less days you have left. There was no way for someone like you, an outsider, the mere civilian with no mafia bonds whatsoever, to be living a long life. Sukuna has enemies, there are people that want the power he holds and will eventually target you. That is, of course, if he doesn’t kill you himself over time – out of boredom or prevention. You knew a lot, he had told you more than he should.

But you loved him. You had seen him do some pretty dark things that would make most people’s eyes water, and in all honesty, it did the same thing to yours, but then, with you, Sukuna was always protective. You loved the way he always seemed to know just what you needed, the way he read you like an open book and knew just what to say or do to put you at ease. You loved the way he made you feel like the only woman in the world, how he made you feel beautiful, even on the days you felt like a total mess. He was a danger, a threat so deadly you shouldn’t play with it, he was a flame that you were bound to burn yourself on, but he was also the only person in the world you felt so safe around. Ever since you met, he had protected you. Even if his words were harsh and his own deeds rough, he never failed to envelop you in a bubble inside of which nothing and no one could hurt you.

“Oh, how much you’d miss me,” a certain sense of amusement hinted in the tone you used as the sheepish smile stretched your lips. Ryomen acted suddenly, grabbing the tiny thing that was your body and pressing your back to the mattress. His fingers wrapped around the frail of your neck; it wouldn’t take much of his strength to snap it and yet, you seemed rather comfortable with his grip secured around your airways. Over the time you managed to grow enough trust to know he won’t hurt you for no reason. Your lover was a man powerful enough, there was no need for seeding fear in you. You were also smart enough to differentiate the real danger from the playful acts. If Sukuna truly wanted you to be scared, you most definitely would be scared shitless.

“You think so?” His tone dropped an octave as he crawled above you; your bare figure now trapped underneath the weight of his presence. He got your legs between his initially, the heavy shaft of his dick rested over your lower belly as he shifted his hand from your throat down to cup your breasts. Your body seemed to never stop attract him, no matter how many times he touched and tasted it. You looked almost angelic in the dim light of that morning; the remnants of sleep still painted over your features and the only things that disturbed the innocence of your picture were the marks he had left on your plush, velvety skin. Red and angry spots that he sucked onto your flesh adorned the beauty of your frame, ultimately making you his own. “Aren’t you a little too confident?”

“I think I’m confident just enough,” you grinned playfully, smoothing over his hands, one staying on top of his palm on your breast and the other reaching up his arm to touch more of him. There was always a hunger lingering inside of you, you were never completely satiated and even if your body was utterly exhausted, you were always happy to take more. Sukuna made you feel ecstatic, like you were really his only one and though it was an illusion that you chose to believe in, it felt good to imagine yourself as his only care.

“And why would I miss you, huh? Aren’t you only a plaything for me?” The question he asked was meant to sound venomous but the sound of his voice betrayed the lighthearted intention. “Do you think I’ll blink twice when discarding you when I get bored of what you can give me?”

“I don’t think you’ll hesitate,” a chuckle once again shook your chest gently as you watched how Sukuna gently pulled your legs up from underneath him and brought one of your ankles to his face. The kisses he smeared along your shin were delicate, completely contrasting with the threatful impression that he was trying to make. He was worshipping you so openly, it made you blush every time. “But even though I know you wouldn’t think twice before killing me, I also think you’d miss me afterwards.”

Once the tender caresses finished, your calves landed on top of his shoulders as he leaned forward, squeezing a breathy moan out of you as he pushed his length into you to the very base of it, sliding on enough spit that it made the entrance easy. Ryomen learned your body through and through, he knew you can take it, he knew you’re always ready and eager to take him. Even if it’s early, even if it hurts. No matter when and where, if he told you to sit on his dick in the middle of a grocery store, you’d probably do just that and ask no questions. And yet, he knew where the boundaries are. Not once he pushed you when you were feeling bad. Not once he used you when you were not ready. The knowledge he now had about you came from observation.

“I think I would miss you,” he purred, his lips so close that they brushed against yours as he spoke. He’s got you in a mating press, filled to the brim with his bricked-up manhood and completely at his mercy. “You are addicting.”

“So keep me safe,” you whispered, cupping his face and chasing the kiss he was yet to give you. The request caught him slightly off guard. The pleading undertone made his heart clench; a feeling that he’s gone without for a decade at least and though he hated the odd sensation in his chest, he also couldn’t deny the warmth that spread throughout his body.

“You are safe with me,” the reassuring lie he followed with a heavy press onto your lips, sealing his words with his own tongue and silently promising you his protection. A vow that he wished to keep and yet, feared he won’t be able to. But now, it wasn’t important. Now you were here, in his bed, on his dick. Now there was just you and him.

Your dainty fingers found their place in his hair as he began thrusting into you. The new slick that combined with the remnants of the night made his movements easy as he dragged his hips back almost all the way out and then pushed back to the point of his pelvis clashing with the back of your thighs and your ass. The pace he set wasn’t fast. It wasn’t anything of what he’d most often pick, there was no violence intertwined into the melody of his hips. That morning it was sensual, it was deep and just rapid enough to stimulate every sweet spot inside of you. Stroke after stroke he was driving you crazy, he just barely started and already you felt yourself dripping. The filthy, wet sounds filled in the early aura and the muffled moans and whimpers accompanied them.

Sukuna allowed your legs to fall lower from where they were pressed against your chest and you hooked them around his hips. The newly earned access to his neck and shoulders you immediately used by allowing your hands to wander in the area, scratching his skin just to force a low purr from his throat. Every sound he made, you swallowed greedily as the kiss continued. Your tongues were dancing to the fiery rhythm of intimacy.

The coil in your stomach tightened all too quickly, you wished it to give you more time to enjoy what he was willing to give you but no matter how much you wanted your body to calm down, he made it absolutely impossible to achieve. Your veins were running with pure ecstasy and lust, the heated flurry that now was your brain was focused only on him, on the rhythm of his hips, on every sweet little lie that he whispered to you. Ryomen knew how to make you weak, he knew just how to angle his body to hit that one spot, the most sensitive one and you could feel him grinning against your lips. He knew you were close. The delicious squeezes that your cunt did on his girth were enough of a hint to notice and it gave him a sense of pride to be able to make you come undone so easily.

“Just few moments more,” he murmured and you nodded eagerly. Tears prickled in your eyes, gathering along your lash lines like crystals that he wished to kiss away, but was now too engulfed in the taste of your lips to part. His movements got quicker, just a little heavier as he began slamming into you with more force than at the beginning. Mornings tend to rid Sukuna from the ability to last – the ones that he spends with you in his arms, with your naked body pressed against his, unknowingly shifting against his dick for hours. That makes him unable to keep his composure for too long. Sometimes he feels like you strip him of all qualities that he once prided himself in, leaving him bare only to your eyes, with only the most primal needs exposed and he felt good with that kind of freedom.

“…don’t stop, oh god, ‘kuna~”, you were whimpering, arching your back underneath him and squeezing your little hands over his shoulders. “I can’t, I—”

“Oh, you can. Do your best,” Sukuna chuckled, teasing you with such impossible tasks. Your head fell back, your thighs were trembling against his sides and he could tell he’s losing you. You were far too deep in the realm of desire to hear his words; all of your world now came down to what you felt, to how you felt him and Sukuna loved your blissed out state. He loved the way he was the one to push you so far over the edge that you wouldn’t notice if the world was ending. But what he loved above that, was how you were gripping onto him; holding him tightly, pulling him closer as if you never wanted him to move away, as if he was everything you needed. And he was.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he muttered against your throat, painting the skin over there with wet trails of kisses and new, red marks – the ones gentle enough to fade in a matter of hours. You moaned something incoherent. “Cum for me,” he allowed, not even sure if you’re registering his words. It had to be unconscious; the way your brain caught his voice between the blurry lines of everything else.

Your climax hit you like a rock; his name was slipping over your tongue continuously, so sweet and breathless that Sukuna was once again reassured that he never wants to hear anyone else calling him. Your walls were squeezing his throbbing length, he twitched and flexed inside you, groaning with satisfaction and before he allowed himself to come, he pushed himself up. As he sat on his heels, he pulled you with him; your body now on top of him and he used his hands to guide your hips up and down his dick. You wrapped yourself around him, finding a safe space for your face right where his neck connects with his muscular shoulder and all he needed to feel the bliss was the sensation of your teeth sinking into his skin.

White seed painted your insides as he shot it as deeply as he could reach with you on top of him. Few more moves, few more groans and you could feel him relax. His strong arms snaked around your waist as he shifted slightly to lean against the headboard, straightening his legs in front of him. You stayed pressed against his chest, catching your breath and feeling the tension leaving your body as the morning went by. And as Sukuna held you so close to his heart, he couldn’t rid himself of the feeling that it felt so right and that made the question bloom inside his brain. Was it still strictly physical? Was it ever only about sex?

taglist: @yihona-san06 @tiredscavengerskeleton @son4aras @vixorell @cecesharktales @isleqt @thickmacandcheese @captainchrisstan @bbylime @sad-darksoul @shartnart1 @kiki17483 @grimreaqueer @phoenix-eclipses @fan-of-encouragement @valleydoll @aleeeeeeees-stuff @marifujioka @going-to-californiaxx @just-pure-trash @edenofeve @impulsivethoughtsat2am @thigh-o-saur @heyohalie @matchat3a @bubblearts @littlemisspropaganda @aconstructofamind @lawislife18 @rzcnlb @sunukissed

[writtenwhalien]

a lover's redemption | chapter 1

chapter 1. way down we go

pairing ↠ mafia leader!park jimin x reader

genre ↠ mafia AU — romance/action (angst, fluff, smut)

summary ↠ Blood, business and betrayal is all that Park Jimin has ever known, but when you cross paths again, the stakes are raised even higher and he finds himself battling his conscience, and his heart.

word count ↠ 10k

18+ | warnings ↠ drinking, explicit sexual content, violence, all sorts of crime (please see the series masterlist for a complete list of warnings).

taglist is open – dm/comment/send an ask to be added <3

notes ↠ please enjoy and share xoxoxox i'll confirm the release date of chapter 2 soon—this fic is a lot of work lol so in the meantime pls enjoy this longer chapter <3 and i used korean family names bc its a jimin fic and its hard to try and think of any other way that flows/to not use names, sorry not sorry, just imagine what you want xx

14th September 2003

“That’s it, good girl, Y/N—ow!” 

Your dad clutched his leg after a particularly hard roundhouse kick to his thigh. 

“Haha, well done, Y/N,” your granddad laughed from the side, clapping his hands in praise of you which motivated you to keep going. 

Going in for another front punch, you dodged your dad’s punches – which he pulled to avoid hurting you – and then you came in with a sharp jab to his ribs. 

“Ah, gosh, okay, okay,” he chuckled, taking a step back off the mat. “I think we should finish for the day, I’m gonna be covered in bruises tomorrow.”

“Was I good?” you asked, eager to hear your dad’s compliments as always. 

“You were amazing, dear,” your granddad said, stepping forward and ruffling your hair. “You remember what I told you, yes?”

“Yes,” you nodded, stating the next words like a mantra. “Self defence is a state of mind that begins with the belief you are worth defending.” It’s what your granddad had told you since you started training last year at the age of five.

“Still got it,” your dad smiled, kneeling down to help you pull off your shin guards. “You can show Jae-ho the combination tomorrow, but for now, let’s go get ready for dinner before your mom kills me.”

Beaming, you ripped your gloves off. “Can we go again before class tomorrow?”

“Of course we can,” your dad said, patting your back, and together you raced out of the summer room and back into the house, as your granddad followed leisurely behind you. 

“Mom, I learned a new combination today!” you beamed, climbing up onto the stool at the breakfast counter.

Your mom smiled at you, her apron covered in flour as she puts a tray into the oven. “That’s amazing sweetie, I’ll watch it tomorrow when Jae-ho comes over, okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded, reaching over and taking an apple from the fruit bowl.

Taking off her apron, your mom walked around the counter towards you. “Ah, your hair is all sweaty, you must have been working really hard.” She took out your hair tie, combing through your hair with her fingers.

“Ow,” you grimaced, still munching on your apple. “It was really hot.”

She laughed. “I’m sure it was.” 

“There she is!” The sound of your grandma’s voice made you turn around. She smiled as she came towards you. “Let’s get you bathed before dinner.”

“Do I have to?” you grumbled.

Your grandma paused, sniffing the air. “What’s that smell?” 

Laughing, you hopped off the stool and ran towards the door. “It’s you, grandma!”

“What?!” She laughed with mock surprise, looking at your mom. “Is it me?”

“Hm…” Your mom paused and played along, sniffing your grandma. “Nu-uh.” She looked at you. “I think it’s coming from our pretty princess over there.” 

“I thought so,” your grandma smiled, before she and your mom proceeded to chase you through the house while you ran down the corridors and laughed gleefully. As you jumped on your parents bed, trying to make a beeline for their bathroom door, your mom caught you, cuddling you and smothering you in kisses before you eventually had to have a bath. Your grandma styled your hair in a ponytail with a pretty headband of your choice. You chose a blue one to match your dress and together you made your way downstairs. 

As you entered the living room, your dad turned around and behind him stood a tall man with dark hair neatly slicked back. 

“Y/N, honey, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” your dad said, smiling reassuringly as he took your hand. 

You’d met a lot of your dad’s friends and they all seemed nice. But this man was different. He didn’t look kind at all. As you approached, your attention was stolen by a boy standing close behind the man. He looked around your age, with brown hair and brown eyes. His cheeks were round and rosy which gave him a playful and friendly appearance, except for the unmistakable fact that he looked scared. 

“This is my friend, Jihoon, and his son, Jimin.”

At first you felt nervous, looking between your dad and the big stern looking man beside him. Glancing at your grandma, you eased up when she nudged you and smiled. 

“Why don’t you say hello, Y/N?” she said.

Your dad kneeled down as you looked up at the man. “You can say hello if you want, sweetie.”

“It’s lovely to meet you, Y/N,” the man said, his lips curving into what must’ve meant to have been a smile — you thought it made him look scarier. “I’m your uncle Jihoon.” He extended his hand. 

Timidly, you shook it. Then your gaze fell to the boy standing behind him.

“Jimin.” Jihoon’s voice was suddenly sharp as he summoned his son to come forward. 

Looking up at his father in what you could only interpret as fear, he took a few steps forward and stopped in front of you. “Hello, I’m Jimin,” he said quietly, putting his hand forward just like his father did. 

“Hi, Jimin,” you said, reaching for his hand and shaking it once. “I’m Y/N.”

6 years later 17th July 2009

Sunlight streamed in through the windows, bringing in ample light to the summer room. Arranged messily on the table were pots of paint and brushes with a few complete canvases surrounding you as you worked. The canvas in front of you was a mix of vibrant colours, some careful strokes and others wild splashes you had crafted as you concentrated hard, your hand gripping the brush as you attempted to follow your father’s lead.

He had almost completed his piece, after many days working on it. A black sky tinged with deep hues of blue, and a single spear of lightning emerged through dark, swirling clouds, casting a pale, cold light reflecting off of the tempestuous sea of violent waves.

“Oh no,” you frowned, sitting back to get a better look at your work. “I ruined it.”

Your dad glanced over, smiling softly. “You didn’t ruin anything. It’s just different now, which is good.”

“But it doesn’t look how I wanted. It’s messy now.”

Your dad paused, getting up from his position in front of his much more professional easel to come and look at your work. Then, he dipped his brush in one of the colours you created and added a soft swirl, then another. You watched quietly as he added more.

“Things don’t always turn out how we want them to, sweetheart. That happens a lot in life. But you can always choose what to do next, even when things get messy.”

“What do you mean?”

Your dad set the paint brush down and sat on the chair next to you. Lines creased his forehead, his expression becoming sombre. It was something you’d been noticing more over the past few years.  

“Y/N, there will be times when everything around us feels messy or wrong — like people are not being kind, or things not going how we planned. You can’t always change that. But what you can control is how you act, even when everything feels hard. Being a good person means doing the right thing, even when the world around you isn’t.”

You frowned, thinking hard. “But what if people are mean, or if bad things happen? How do I be good when that’s happening?”

Your dad smiled warmly. “It’s like painting. Sometimes, you’ll have dark colors, or you’ll make a mistake. But you get to decide what comes next. You can add light, bring in something beautiful, even if the first stroke didn’t go how you wanted. You don’t have to paint what’s around you—you can paint what’s in here.” Gently, he tapped your chest over your heart.

Looking down, you began to understand. “So… even if everything’s messy, I can still make something pretty?”

“Exactly. You can always choose to do the right thing, to be kind, to help someone, even if others aren’t. It’s not always easy, but that’s what makes it important. Being a good person isn’t about waiting for things to be perfect, it’s about being good, even when things aren’t.”

You nodded, picking up your paintbrush and adding a swirl of your own. “Like this?”

With a grin, your dad nodded. “That’s perfect. You see? No matter how dark or messy things seem, you can always choose to make it better.”

“I want to do that, dad. I want to make things better, like you do.”

Your dad smiled, pulling you into a hug. “You already do, sweetheart.” 

You hugged him back, smiling when you felt him kiss the top of your head. Pulling away, you hopped off the chair. “What about yours? Is it finished?”

“I think so.”

“Lightning…  is it a storm?” you asked, standing next to your dad in front of the easel. 

“Yes,” he said, ruffling your hair with his elbow as his hands were smudged with paint. 

“What does it mean?”

“Sometimes it can mean power,” he answered, turning back to the canvas in front of him. “But sometimes it can also mean punishment.”

You looked up, frowning.

He smiled. “Sometimes, too much power isn’t a good thing. If you’re not a good person, then it can be dangerous.”

“Oh…” You looked back at the canvas, admiring the deep shades of blue and black and grey he’d used to paint the night sky. “Who is it for?” you asked.

Your dad’s smile disappeared as he looked back at the canvas. “An old friend.”

You looked at your dad and noticed he looked sad. “Are you not friends anymore?”

He shook his head, a smile returning. “We are. Dad’s just being silly.” He patted your shoulder gently. “Come on, let’s go have dinner. All this painting has made me hungry.”

Dinner passed peacefully that night with your parents and grandparents conversing as they always did, and you spent most of the time poking your mom’s belly to try to get your growing baby brother to respond. 

Then, as soon as your dad finished eating, he got a text. Everyone on the dinner table went quiet and for a moment, you were forgotten.

“It’s Han-jae,” your dad said quietly. “He’s asked to see me.”

Your granddad exhaled slowly and you saw how your mothers hand tensed around her fork. 

“I told you not to get involved,” she murmured, looking at your dad with worry. 

He reached for her hand, caressing it gently. “I had to, love, you know that.”

“Why you?” she implored, almost desperately. “Why couldn’t you ask someone else.”

“I don’t know who to trust right now, Jihoon hasn’t been himself lately.”

“Jihoon is the same as always, he’s a cold man,” your mother answered.

“Sae-yi is right. Jihoon has always been a heartless person.”

“Perhaps that’s why I can’t trust him with this."

“Then don’t." Your mom took your fathers hands in both of hers. “But do you have to go?”

Your dads face gave her the answer and she sighed, grip loosening on his hand.

“Honey,” he whispered, closing his hand around hers firmly again and leaning in. “I’ll have my men with me, we’ll be back within an hour, I promise.” Smiling, he kissed her on the lips. “I’ve known Han-jae almost all my life, nothing’s going to happen.”

Your mother’s worried expression didn’t falter. “He’s the one who’s changed. I don’t trust him, not after what he was going to do to Jiyoung.” 

“I know,” your dad said, moving his hand in to hold your mom's cheek. “And that’s why I can’t let him know anything’s up, Ji-young isn’t safely out of the country yet so I should go.”

Leaning into his touch, your mom sighed. “Your heart's too big for this world, Sehun.”

Your dad smiled, pressing his forehead against hers and placing his hand on her swollen tummy. “It’s just big enough for you and my beautiful family.” He looked across at you sitting beside your mother and took your hand too, kissing it softly. “Look after your mama while I’m away, and we’ll have some dessert when I get back, okay?”

You nodded, confused yet reassured by your father’s smile. Nodding back, your dad kissed your mother once more before saying goodbye to your grandparents too. Your mom and granddad walked him out while your grandma stayed with you and made you finish your dinner.

The first half hour passed as normal. You stayed sitting with your grandma while your mom and granddad spoke privately in the kitchen. That was nothing new to you, you’d grown up with the adults having many private conversations out of earshot, so nothing felt off… until another fifteen minutes later.

Your mom wouldn’t stop pacing back and forth, her phone in her hand. “Neither of them are replying to my texts. He always replies, always.” You could hear the panic in her voice, the slight tremor that shook you deeply inside.

Then your grandma had the maid get you ready for bed, and you couldn’t hear what the grown-ups were whispering anymore. You were used to being sent to bed like this so you did what you always did — you sat by your bedroom window to watch the blacked out cars that usually come and go in the driveway. Except this time there weren’t any cars so instead you clambered on to your bed to read a book while you waited for your dad. 

As you grew bored, you remembered your dad promised to be back within the hour… glancing at the clock in your room, you realised he was late. 26 minutes late. 

A pit of worry grew in your stomach and you wished to be near your mom, so you got out of bed and walked to the door, your favourite book in your hand as you hoped to read to your little brother like you’d done so many times before.

Clutching it tightly, you walked out of your room towards the staircase, and then you heard it —  your mothers heart wrenching scream. 

At that moment, you knew your dad wasn’t going to be coming back home. 

present day

“One cappuccino please, and a croissant too.”

Without looking up from where you’re still folding the tea towels, you respond to the customer. “To eat in or takeaway?”

“Eat in.”

“Coming right up.” You fold the last one, patting it down before turning to face the customer. “That’ll be 9000 won plea– oh.” You pause, looking at the man behind the counter. “Hello again.”

“Hi, Y/N.” He smiles warmly, pulling out his wallet from the pocket of his black trenchcoat. 

“Ah, you remember my name.”

“And you don’t remember mine,” he grins, nodding his head when you wince apologetically. “Seojun.”

“Seojun,” you repeat. “I’ll remember that now, I promise.”

He chuckles, placing a 50000 won note on the counter. “Don’t sweat it. And keep the change,” he says, turning around to seat himself at the closest table.

You pick it up, shaking your head. “Again?”

He folds his coat over the empty chair beside him before smoothing down the lapels of his suit jacket. “Yes, and don’t try to give me an extra muffin to make up for it.”

You deposit the bill into the till and put the change in the tip jar. Glancing at him, you see him looking over his shoulder out the window. “Did you at least like it?”

Seojun turns back and smiles. “Nope.”

“Hey!”

“I’m just being honest, I’m not a fan of blueberries,” he shrugs. “If you’re gonna give me anything, I'll take another coffee to go, iced americano this time.”

“Hmph, whatever,” you mumble, getting to work on his cappuccino. “I worked on that muffin recipe for weeks.”

“Try less baking powder maybe?” You shoot him a look when he says this and he puts his hands up defensively. “Or not.”

“Maybe if you weren’t tipping so much, I wouldn’t have to give you a muffin,” you say, steaming the milk for his drink.

“There’s a jar there for a reason,” he points out, nodding to the tip jar on the counter which you’ve kept there for your younger employees on top of the generous wage you pay them.

“Fair.” You finish preparing his cappuccino and plate up the croissant, walking over to his table. “Just don’t diss my muffins.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, doing little to hide the amusement in his voice. 

“Yeah, whatever,” you roll your eyes, smiling as you place his order down. “Here.” 

“Sit with me,” he says, kicking the seat out from in front of him. 

Pausing, you look at the only other occupied table. They seem fine, so you take Seojun’s offer, getting yourself a muffin and slipping into the seat while he looks over his shoulder again.

“Expecting someone?” you ask, breaking off a piece. 

“Hm?” He faces forward again, quickly shaking off the serious expression on his face. “Oh, no.” Smiling, he takes a sip of his coffee.

“How’s your girlfriend?” you ask, remembering the last conversation you had with him in which he told you all about his plans to surprise his girlfriend with a handcrafted bracelet made by himself. Apparently the diamonds from Tiffany’s just don’t feel special to him anymore. 

You smiled when he said that to you – it reminded you of your dad. It was easy enough to walk into a store and order the most expensive jewels, so he preferred to pour his time and effort into surprising your mom with paintings. He was good at it too, something you’ve grown to be envious of since you can’t say he passed the same talent to you.

Seojun smiles. “She’s good. Loved the bracelet.”

This makes you smile. “I’m glad.”

“How’s your grandma?”

“She’s great,” you nod. The last conversation you had with Seojun, was actually also the first. He walked into the cafe last week and immediately started a conversation with you. At first, you were slightly wary, but you’re always cautious so you went along with it. He’s a nice guy, and truthfully, you were glad for a change from all the college gossip you were used to hearing from your younger employees. They have a lot of drama, some of which bores you. 

Speaking with Seojun just seems familiar, like speaking with an old friend. 

“How’s her gallery?”

“Busy. She barely even calls me these days.”

Seojun chuckles. “Maybe you should visit her, I’m sure she’d like it.” 

At this, you pause, smiling. “I should. It’s been a while since I've seen her.” Your fork pokes aimlessly at the muffin. “I’ve just been a bit busy.”

“With the cafe?”

“Huh?” You look at Seojun, only to catch him looking back towards you just in time. That’s the third time he’s looked over his shoulder.

“I asked if you’re busy with the cafe,” he repeats, quickly looking down to take a bite of his croissant.

“Well, yeah,” you lie, also looking down. It’s a simple answer when the truth is more complicated. 

Seojun looks at you, eyes slightly rounded in concern. “It might be a good idea to take a break, no? Get out of Seoul and stay with her for a while.” 

This gives you pause, and you stare at him. “I don’t think I'll be leaving Seoul for a while,” you answer, watching him carefully. 

But before he can respond, you’re interrupted by your phone ringing in your back pocket. Pulling it out, you see your grandma is calling. Glancing up at Seojun, he’s now looking down at his half empty cup while tensely rubbing his thumb against the side of his tight fist.

“Excuse me,” you mutter, getting up and answering the phone. “Hello?”

“Hello, Y/N, sweetheart?”

You frown, immediately hearing something off in her tone. Looking back over your shoulder, you see Seojun looking through his suit pockets for something. You face forward again. “Yes, it’s me. Are you okay? You don’t normally call this early.”

There’s a pause on the other side of the phone as you hear your grandma let out a small sigh. “I’m well,” she says. “I just needed to make sure you’re fine.”

“I am, but you already know that,” you remind her. “I called you this morning.”

“I know.” There’s another soft silence.

“Did something happen?” you ask, an uncertain feeling brewing in your chest. Your grandma has never had any reason to call like this before. Maybe if she knew of the midnight runs you frequently went on, she would, but as it happens, she doesn’t. You’ve made sure of that by having Yoongi promise to keep it from her, and his own father, Min Hyun-tae who is the closest confidante of your grandma.

Eventually, she answers. “I heard there’s been some trouble with the Cheong’s and… ah, never mind. I was just worried.”

You frown – Yoongi should’ve told you this too. “Well, what is it?”

“Don’t worry about it, just stay out of trouble, okay?”

“Moni, what is it–”

“Y/N,” she interrupts, her voice suddenly stern. “Whatever it is, it’ll pass over in a few days.”

Holding your tongue, you exhale heavily through your nose. You know your grandma is only this protective of you to keep you safe and she has every reason to worry, which makes it harder that you have to lie to her so often. 

“Okay. Promise me you’ll stay safe too.”

Your grandma chuckles. “I’m living a quiet life here in Namwon, dear. Don’t worry about me.”

She’s safe, you remind yourself. Away from the memories and danger here in Seoul. “Okay, I love you,” you say softly.

“I love you too. Bye now.”

Ending the call, you can’t ignore the feeling that remains in your chest, and when you turn around, you’re surprised to see that Seojun has gone. All that’s left on the table is the dishes and his receipt. Drawing closer, you see he’s scribbled something on the back of it: She’s the only family you have left. You should stay with her. 

In the two conversations you’ve had with Seojun, you haven’t once mentioned any other family member, and he never asked, yet he seems to know that it’s just you and her left…

Suddenly, it occurs to you that maybe Seojun knows who you are. 

After your father was killed, your granddad went to great lengths to protect the rest of you, which included keeping your family information strictly secure – even now if you were to go down to a police station, they would have trouble finding much information on you except what you want them to know. Only someone who knows your family could know that it’s just you and her, because your mother’s medical records of her death following her cardiac arrest during early labour are completely unobtainable, as are your granddad’s after his pneumonia.

Looking out of the cafe window, you scan the streets and see no sign of Seojun anywhere. 

You need to call Yoongi. That’s the first thing you need to do and after that, you’ll look into Seojun. Your conversation with him and your grandma is still playing on your mind, even now as you rush down the streets to get to your car. 

As you brush past people, you accidentally bump into someone.

“Oh, sorry,” you mumble, looking towards the face of the guy you just bumped into.

He smiles, shaking his head as he pats your arm. “Don’t worry.”

Pursing your lips, you nod and smile before resuming your walk. Another twenty minutes later, you’re pulling up towards the gate of your home. Although it’s a modest sized house (still slightly larger than the average), your grandma insisted on your extra security.  

“Good evening, miss,” your guard, Dani, calls out, smiling and waving as she opens the gate from her station.

“Hey, Dani,” you smile, slowing the car down next to her to talk through the window. “Anything today?”

She jumps up onto the ledge, shaking her head. “Nope. A camera around the back picked up some movement just a little while ago but Siho checked it out, was nothing...”

You’re barely paying attention to her as your mind still wanders on Seojun.

“Uh, Y/N?”

“Huh?” you look at her, slightly startled.

Dani smiles. “Long day?”

“Something like that.” 

Her expression softens. “Make sure you eat well tonight, hm?”

“I will,” you nod. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Sure.” She waves you on as you drive further onto your property, parking in the driveway.

Dani and Siho are the guards you employed when your grandma told you to. They both have a past in the military but retired early for whatever reason (they don’t talk about it much and you don’t ask). In truth, you’re very grateful to them – some nights it’s easier to sleep knowing they’re helping to look out for you.

Grabbing your purse from the passenger seat, you get out of your car and walk towards the house. 

Everything seems normal as you unlock the front door, entering the wide hallway downstairs – you have no reason to notice the drops of blood by the kitchen door – so you take your shoes off and hang your coat and bag in the cloakroom as you normally would before heading upstairs to your bedroom. 

But when you get to the top, you halt, noticing something. Far less obvious than droplets of blood, it’s the sight of your bedroom door left slightly open. You always close your bedroom door. It’s just a habit you’ve always had to close the door when you leave…

Immediately, your senses become more alert, your ears perking up for any noise in the house.  It’s odd, you don’t understand how anyone could’ve gotten into the house as long as Dani and Siho have been guarding the house. Unless, thinking back on the day, you know you have good reason to be on alert.

So you tread silently towards your room, kicking it open and—

Nothing. Your room is exactly as you left it this morning. You relax after checking a few possible hiding spots and finding them empty. But still, you know to be more cautious than this, so you take the handgun from the drawer in your nightstand and check all the other rooms. 

The metal feels light in your hand, even though you’ve never actually used this particular gun since Hyun-tae gave it to you on the night of the only break-in at the home in Namwon. You were only sixteen, wide-eyed and terrified when he told you to stay with your grandma and not come out until he came back. 

The gun was a last resort, of course you knew that the many men guarding the house would intercept whoever was threatening what was left of your family, but even then, it made you feel safer, more sure of yourself. Just as it does now while you walk through your house, alert for any movements.

Your body freezes as you spot the droplets of blood on the floor. 

Now that’s not your blood.

Muscle memory takes over as your thumb moves to cock the gun. Your heart beats harder in your chest, every sense on high alert as you silently stand behind the kitchen door. 

Holding your breath, you can make out the quiet sounds of heavy, laboured breathing… you inch slowly towards the edge as far as you can to peer in and see no one from where you are. 

Exhaling slowly, you count down to three before stepping into the kitchen, gun aimed as you quickly scan the kitchen and then you see the intruder, the aim of your gun following your sight.

Collapsed on the floor against your kitchen wall, a tall man holds his hand against his chest where a deep red stain spoils the white shirt of his suit. He looks up at you, face desperate yet determined.

“Don’t shoot, it’s me.”

Flicking on your kitchen light, you stare at him for a second until you recognise him… “Seojun?” A knot of uncertainty and fear tightens in the pit of your stomach.

Immediately you uncock your gun, rushing over to him. “What happened? Why are you here?” You reach for his wound to apply pressure but his bloodied hand closes around yours, stopping you. 

“Y/N, I’m sorry.”

Looking up, you meet his gaze and the fear in his expression sends shivers down your spine despite you being confused. “Let me help you,” you say shakily, hands moving to his wound again.

Seojun weakly shakes his head, trying to reach for your arm again. “No, Y/N, you need to leave,” he says, voice firm despite his severe injury.

“You need an ambulance,” you say, ignoring the slight tremble of your hands. “I’ll call an ambu—”

“No,” he interrupts, pulling on your hand again before crying out quickly from the quick movement. “Your guards,” he breathes, “they’ll keep you safe, Jimin will keep you safe, you need to go.”

The sound of him in pain sends panic rushing through you and yet he still seems adamant about what he’s saying. “W-what are you talking about?” your voice is still shaky as you ignore the firm hold of his hand on your wrist to keep pressure on him.

Seojun cries out quietly again but still fumbles for something in his suit jacket pocket. He pulls out a small black flash drive, thrusting it into your chest. “Give this to Jimin, tell him to use it.”

Eyes wide, you take the flash drive from him and slip it into your back jean pocket.

“You can’t let anyone else get it,” he continues, breathing hard as he winces in pain. “No one except him.”

“Okay,” you nod, squeezing his palm gently to reassure him although your mind is still stuck on trying to process the bleeding man in your kitchen to even take in what he’s saying. “I promise, now let me call you an ambulance—”

“There’s no time, I’m sorry, they’re coming,” he says, desperately now. “I won’t be able to help you.”

“Seojun, what—“

The sound of a window being smashed at the front of your house cuts the words off in your throat and Seojun’s hand tightens around your wrist. 

“Y/N,” he says, voice firmer and louder than before. “Go.” 

You look back at him, heart pounding frantically in your chest as you hear multiple voices coming from somewhere in your house. Seojun starts to stand up, using you to help him. 

He’s leaning against the wall, the fatal wound to his chest forgotten as he pulls his gun out and grasps you tightly around the arm. “Now.”

The voices outside get louder, and there’s a voice in the back of your head telling you to listen to Seojun – you need to go. 

Closing your fingers around your own gun again, you nod, pushing down the part of you that wants to stay with Seojun. He’s injured and you know if he doesn’t get help now he’s going to bleed out. However, you also know a fatal wound when you see one, and so does Seojun.

He’s filling the barrel of his gun with bullets as the voices get louder and you know that he’s about to buy you the time you need to get away. Because of that, you do as he asks.

Blinking back tears, you step away from him and towards the back door of the kitchen while cocking your gun again. Before you even get there, the kitchen window is being smashed in and you coil instinctively to avoid the flying shards of glass.

From somewhere behind you, you hear Seojun yell your name but you’re now focused on the man who’s standing ahead of you with a hammer in his hand. Gun raised, you shoot at him but he darts sideways before swinging his arm towards you with the hammer.

He misses you by an inch as you duck and aim your gun at him again. But before you can shoot, he grabs the gun and tugs hard, pulling you into his body. With a loud grunt, he raises the hammer and gets ready to take another swing at you, except the sound of three shots firing pierce the air and his body falls to the floor beside you.

Head turning around wildly, you see Seojun still leaning against the wall with his gun aimed towards you. He just saved your life. Before you can even get the words out to thank him, two more men jump through the kitchen window and the voices from out in the hallway show their  faces.

There’s half a dozen of them in total and you have no way out now. Seojun pulls on your hand to keep you close to him and it dawns on you now that this isn’t like anything you’re used to – these men are trained fighters, not just some lousy guards put out to watch a warehouse or defend a shipment of weapons. You’ve trained since a young age too, so you know you could at least fight them one on one, but this is different. These men are dangerous and you have no doubt that they’re the ones who put the fatal bullet into Seojun.

As you look around at them, you find yourself staring at one of them… he looks familiar and it suddenly returns to you that he’s the man who bumped into you outside your cafe–

“Y/N,” Seojun whispers harshly, “help is coming so run as soon as you get the chance, okay?”

You nod subtly, watching as the men part for one of them, undoubtedly their leader, to step closer. He’s a tall man, butch and quite frankly, frightening. His eyes are focused on Seojun and his upper lip curls as he sneers.

 “...All of that, for nothing.” His voice is emotionless and laced with wickedness, as he seems to delight in seeing life leaving the once healthy body in front of him.

“Oh shut up, Minjun,” Seojun gets out breathlessly, grimacing in pain as he does. 

Minjun laughs hollowly, coming closer still. “I’d love to see Park’s reaction to this, his favourite little pup won’t be crawling back to him tonight.”

Your hand tightens around your pistol but you remain still – even you aren’t stupid enough to think you can shoot this man without receiving multiple bullets in return.

“Just shoot me then,” Seojun mutters, shifting on his feet as he struggles to stay standing.

Minjun scoffs amusedly. “Not just yet. I’ve got questions for you first…” He looks your way and an icy shiver runs down your spine. “Who’s this?”

“I don’t know, this is the first house I found for shelter,” Seojun answers, his voice laced with desperation. “Just take me, she’s innocent.” 

Minjun pauses, his eyes lowering to the gun in your hand. “Innocent?” 

“Yes, she knows nothing.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Minjun says as he walks forward again, closing the distance.

“Minjun,” Seojun says, voice raised. “I’m here, I know everything you want to know, not her–”

As though an invisible fuse has been cut, Minjun loses his temper and throws a heavy punch to Seojun’s jaw, flooring him instantly. 

“Seojun,” you gasp, kneeling beside him as a raspy groan escapes him. Fear travels through your body in waves as you see blood beginning to pool out from beside him.

When you meet his gaze, there’s a distant glassiness to his eyes which stand out against his pale, clammy skin. 

You’ve been in plenty of fist fights before, you’ve been in real danger and have had to fight your way out of it, but this – being someone you care about – this is something entirely new to you and for the first time in a long time, you’re frightened. 

“She knows nothing, hm?” Minjun scoffs. “She clearly knows you.”

Reaching out for Seojun’s hand, you look at the man towering above you, ready to beg. “Please–”

“Y/N!” Siho’s familiar voice fills the air and you freeze.

She appears at the kitchen door, glock raised as she looks around wildly at all the men who are pointing their own right back at her. She clearly wasn’t expecting anything like this and her eyes find you and she looks at you fearfully. “What–”

“Siho, go,” your voice trembles as you call out to her, but it’s too late. Two shots pierce through the air and you watch as your friend drops dead to the floor in front of you. 

A hollowness fills your chest. “No,” you whisper, mindlessly releasing Seojun’s hand to move to her but before you can get anywhere, Minjun is kicking you hard in the chest and you get pushed back to the wall. Only now do you realise how hard you’re breathing, the shaky breaths causing your shoulders to rise as you feel your back sink against the wall. 

“Something you should know,” he says slowly, inspecting the shaft of his gun as he crouches in front of you almost mockingly after he just shot your friend, before he looks right at you. “I don't like being interrupted. Now, tell me who you are, and don’t lie.”

Minjun’s gaze is terrifying and intense; you can’t bring yourself to look at him so you close your eyes and turn your head away from him.

But he doesn’t take well to that so he draws his hand back and it lands on your face with a sharp sting.

Despite being afraid, you manage to turn your head towards him and goosebumps prickle your skin when he stares at you. 

His face is marred with deep lines and red marks, some fresh and some old. Half of one brow looks as though it’s been burnt off and his nose is so deformed it looks as though it has been broken over and over. 

“Answer me,” he growls with a piercing stare.

Before you can even answer, you hear the sound of a gun cocking next to you. Seojun has his gun aimed at Minjun but he’s lost too much blood, his mind disorientated as he tries to press the trigger.

“Ha!” Minjun laughs, effortlessly taking the gun free from his hand. “What an idiot.” He shakes his head, looking down at the gun before shrugging and pulling the trigger. 

“No!” you cry, body jerking backwards as you become paralysed at the sight of Seojun’s body going limp, his eyes becoming lifeless as his head rolls to the side and he moves no more. A choked sob escapes your throat but you don't even have a second to process it.

“Come here, darling.” Minjun places his hand on your shoulder gently. His other hand rests on your face and you shudder when you feel the callused thumb swipe the tears off your cheeks. “Look at me.” He speaks softly but you know better than to fall for that.

His finger hooks under your chin and he lifts your head up to make you look at him. When your eyes meet his, you freeze.

“Just tell me what you know, sweetheart, and we’ll let you go,” he coaxes, nodding his head with a malicious grin on his face. 

“I–I don’t know any-anything. Plea–“

Mjnjun’s fist crashes into your face as your body involuntarily jerks towards the floor. 

Pain sears through you, blinding you and all you can do is gasp from shock, feeling blood trickle down your skin. 

“I told you not to lie,” Minjun growls, dragging you up by your shoulders. You have no strength left to lift yourself or even try to resist, not that you would. 

“Now tell me, what do you know?” 

He shakes you violently as he speaks but you don’t respond, still adjusting to the pain which only worsens as the salty tears silently stream down your face. Now your breaths are uneven and with each draw, you feel more suffocated, unable to even think past the image of Seojun’s lifeless body. 

Your silence serves as an answer for Minjun. He punches you straight in the ribs and watches emotionless as you keel over in pain. A cry escapes you, though you don’t feel it – your mind feels like a completely separate entity from your body. 

So when you hear the sound of feet scuffling and Dani’s voice crying out your name, you can only stay hunched over on the floor.

“Caught her trying to contact someone, boss,” one of the men holding her says gruffly, tossing her phone to Minjun. 

Dani looks across the room, her eyes doubling back to where Siho lies dead in a pool of her own blood. You can see the fear and regret in her eyes as she meets your gaze. “I’m sorry,” she mouths.

You don’t have time to do anything before Minjun gives a curt nod in the direction of the door, and then she’s being dragged away from you by four guards needed to restrain her. Seconds later, a single shot sounds. 

It leaves you feeling numb, unable to do anything as Minjun drags you to your feet by your collar. 

“Two guards and this one…” he kicks Seojun. “You’re clearly someone. What’s your name?” he hisses, his patience clearly having run out long ago – the three dead bodies in your home prove that.

Words don’t leave your mouth and your gaze falls helplessly to Siho’s body. Tears well in your eyes and a harsh sob escapes from your throat.  

“Fucking useless,” Minjun muttters, pushing you against the wall. “Search her,” he commands one of his men beside him.

At this point, you don’t even remember the little device in your pocket. You’re simply numb from everything that’s happened in the last ten minutes and when your eyes land on Seojun’s body and his glassy orbs staring emptily at the floor, you just want to scream.

But you don’t. You physically can’t. 

Hands pat you down, starting along your arms, slipping inside your shirt to feel under your arms, around your back, groping your chest, all around your abdomen, and up and down your legs. You remain entirely helpless as they do so. 

Then they start searching your pockets.

… Your gaze moves to the door, where Dani lies outside.

First your cardigan pockets. Empty.

… Across from you is Siho, the glock she was going to use to save you resting ahead of her.

Then your front jeans pockets. Empty. 

… Your head turns, meeting the vacant gaze of Seojun – you feel your stomach flip and a spark of indignation catches in your throat. Subconsciously, your fists curl.

Then your back jeans pockets. A hand pulls out the small black device and he holds it up in front of him, directly between you and Minjun who raises his brow in mock amusement.

“What a pretty little liar you are?” he snickers, stepping closer to take the flash drive in his hands. 

You don’t respond, but collapse to the floor as the men let go of you. From fear? Exhaustion? Grief? You don’t know. 

Then Minjun comes towards you, pulling a small knife from his back pocket. “You just wasted my time, beautiful…” He grabs you by your throat and pulls you up to your feet. 

The feeling of his strong hand pressing into your larynx returns you to your senses as the real threat of being killed looms over you. 

Minjun trails the sharp edge of the knife along your cheek, down towards your neck. He leans forward and speaks low. “I don‘t take well to that…” The stench of him fills your nostrils, and the knife presses against your skin. One more glance at Seojun, and suddenly, you snap.

Your knee comes up hard and you grab a hold of Minjun’s wrist, yanking it back with all your strength to twist his body in front of you. 

“Sir!” 

The voices of his men shouting drown out his low groans as he now stands, disarmed and held in a tight lock in front of you. You're holding him by his arm twisted backwards around his back and your other hand grabs the gun at his waist, a SIG Sauer pistol – it feels secure in your hand and you press the barrel to Minjun’s head. Adrenaline starts to surge through you as your mind races, completely forgetting about Minjun’s other hand hanging free at his side.

“Don’t move or I’ll shoot him,” you warn his men, backing up towards the window.  

Minjun chuckles a low chuckle. “Will you now?”

“Yes,” you answer through gritted teeth, moving back with him towards the back door. 

“Liar.”

“Don’t tempt me,” you hiss, anger swelling in your chest.

Minjun laughs again, coming to a stop despite your grip on him. “You think you’re smart, don’t you? I know you won’t do it.”

“Oh yeah?” Fingers digging tightly into his skin, you drag his head back and shoot him straight in the calf. “You don’t know shit about me.”

Minjun falls to his knees, a string of swear words leaving his mouth and his weight pulls you down with him. “Your first mistake was fucking lying to me,” he heaves, fingers grabbing your jaw tightly. 

A sharp pain shoots down your wrist. You cry out as Minjun’s blade cuts through your skin, the gun almost dropping from your hand as you grab your bleeding wrist.

He tries to retrieve the gun, struggling to get back to his feet but you step back just in time.

“You’re lucky I can’t kill you right here,” Minjun snarls, facing you as he pushes away the guards who try to help him up. “But once Lee is done with you, I swear I’m going to fucki–“

Bang. 

“FUCK!” Minjun staggers, falling backwards with his hand pressed against his shoulder, very close to his chest where blood spreads staining his white shirt crimson. 

Another shot sounds and one of Minjun’s men goes down. Then another, and another. 

“Park,” Minjun growls, pure rage flashing in his eyes. “I’ll fucking kill you!” Despite the two wounds to his shoulder and leg, he gets up and grabs a gun from the closest man. “What the fuck are you waiting for?!” he yells. “Shoot the bastards!”

Within a second, the air is filled with the sounds of shots firing and you drop to the ground, crawling as fast as you can out of the way. Their shots are returned from outside but the majority of your house is surrounded entirely by trees so you can’t see where they’re coming from. 

As you go, you spot the flash drive on the floor and Seojun’s face comes to mind. He died for whatever is on there. Reaching out, you grab the device without a second's hesitation. When you get behind the kitchen island, you quickly stuff the drive in your pocket. Pain still shoots down your arm and there’s blood dripping from you, staining the tiles. When you look up, you realise there’s blood everywhere.

“Show me your fucking face, Park!” Minjun rages, shooting all over the place, but he’s also bleeding heavily now, the front of his shirt rapidly being dyed red. His men are dying all around him as they shoot aimlessly out the window and you snatch a gun from the closest one, looking up just in time to see the last man fall. There’s only you and Minjun left.

He curses as the last man goes down, head whipping towards you. Drawing a pocket knife out from his waist, he lunges towards you but you slide backwards on the floor, aiming the gun at his head.

“Don’t,” you warn breathlessly.

His upper lip curls. “Fucking bitch.” He holds his gun up to you. “You’re useless to me.”

There’s no question that he’s about to shoot and you’re ready to do the same, but before that can happen, three men dressed in all black suits come barging into your kitchen and another two through the window. 

Minjun shouts in frustration, shooting at you which you narrowly avoid by sliding behind the kitchen island. As you go, you see the tallest of the three men disarm Minjun with ease. 

“You’re too late,” Minjun says, voice low as he turns around.

One of them steps forward, a man whose features look incredibly familiar to you. 

He aims his gun straight at Minjun’s head. The look on his face is fierce and his gaze is steady. “Where is he?”

Minjun laughs weakly, the energy slowly draining from his body. 

The man’s jaw tenses and he kicks Minjun's knee out from beneath him. His movements are sharp, agile — it’s clear to you that he’s done this many times before. 

Minjun falls to his knees, his laugh subsiding into a weak raspy breath. He looks up with no fear and no remorse. “I told you, you’re too late.” He looks in the direction of Seojun’s body, and the man’s gaze follows.

His mouth twitches and you can see the grief that fills his face as he stares at the body, but it only takes a few seconds for it to change into unmistakable anger. In a split second, his arm is raised and he shoots Minjun in his thigh.

At first, Minjun cries out, falling to his side as blood pools from him rapidly. Then he laughs remorselessly like a madman. “Which of your boys will be next, Park?”

Familiarity hits you there and then – Park Jimin. As you watch him step towards Minjun, you realise how different this man looks from the young boy you once played tag with in your home.

Jimin doesn’t miss his mark as he throws a hard punch across Minjun’s face, nor does he wait a second before punching him again… and again… and again. Your stomach turns as Minjun still laughs between each throw, almost taunting Jimin to keep going, even when he’s choking on his own blood. 

Gathering a fistful of hair, Jimin pulls Minjun’s head back and pulls out his gun. He holds it to his head.

Minjun coughs, blood spattering Jimin’s crisp white shirt. “Do it,” he rasps. “An eye for an eye, eh, Park?” Minjun chuckles, the sound getting lost as he coughs weakly again. 

Jimin however, goes incredibly still, gaze piercing into Minjun. 

“Your old man knew more than you ever will–” he coughs again, breaths slowing down– “it’s taking you too long to learn, boy. The Lee’s will come for every fucking person you care about, make you watch as they bleed out in front of ya,” he sneers, licking blood off his lips. “Then they’ll kill you like it’s nothing.”

Of the many emotions showing on Jimin’s face, fear isn’t one of them.

Unnervingly calm, Jimin speaks. “I’m not going to kill you.” Tracing the barrel of his gun down Minjun’s cheek, he pushes it under his throat. “No, that would be too easy.” 

Jimin holds out his gun and with immediate understanding, one of his men, with dark curls steps forward and takes the gun and place a small Gerber knife in his hand instead.

Grip tightening on on his hair, Jimin lifts the man and turns his head in the direction of Seojun, ignoring the grunts of pain from him. Looking away from Seojun, Jimin keeps Minjun’s head facing that way as he speaks.  “You don’t deserve an easy way out.” Slowly, he pushes the knife into Minjun’s shoulder and twists.

Minjun tries to keep down the pain but fails to do so, falling to his knees again.

“See?” Jimin looks down, eyes deadly focused on Minjun. “Just like this.” He twists deeper. “I’m going to cut you apart, and then piece you back together. And I’ll do it over and over.”

“Then what?” Minjun rasps.

Jimin pulls the knife out, throwing it to the floor in front of Minjun. Blood splatters on the tiles and Minjun’s head lowers. 

“You’ll see.”

With another wordless gesture, the two tallest men drag Minjun away somewhere and out of sight.

Once they’ve left, the room is silent aside from Jimin’s slow steady breaths. His gaze travels towards where Seojun’s body lies and you watch him carefully as he walks across the room, dropping his gun to the floor to kneel beside Seojun. 

Jimin’s expression softens and he gently takes Seojun’s hand into his own, and just like that, you’re reminded of the boy you once knew. He brings the back of Seojun’s palm to his mouth and he places a kiss on his skin. As he lowers his hand to rest over his chest, his round eyes water, but he blinks once and it’s gone. 

“Jimin.” One of his men, a tall, slender man with chestnut hair, calls his name. When Jimin looks at him, his gaze immediately lands on you.

You instinctively rise at the same time he does, raising the gun you hold in your hand. 

Yes, you knew Jimin once, but many years have passed and you’d be stupid not to be wary.

“Don’t come near me.” You swallow hard, having to press your back against the wall as you feel incredibly weak, but you can’t let this show.

Jimin says nothing as he takes a small step, eyes locking with yours and for a split second you almost lower your gun when you see something familiar in those brown eyes of his. 

Then one of his other men, a well built man with long dark curls held back in a bun, draws your attention. “Miss,” he says politely. “We just want to help.”

“I don’t need your help, just get out of my house.” Your voice tightens as you look at Siho’s body. You force your gaze away.

Jimin takes another step, watching you carefully. “You…” he murmurs, hesitating as a soft frown appears on his face before he shakes his head once. “Why did Seojun come here?” He asks, voice softer than when he spoke with Minjun, but the question is enough to anger you and you stare at him in bewilderment.

Pushing off the wall, you walk towards him and a loud click echoes in the room as you release the safety with your thumb.

In return, three guns are cocked and aimed at you. 

Jimin, however, doesn’t even blink. 

“Put the gun down, miss.” The same man addresses you calmly with his finger hovering over the trigger, glancing between Jimin and you. 

Now it’s you who doesn’t falter. “I don’t know why Seojun came here,” you say calmly, “and I don’t know who those men were. I’ve only ever spoken to him a few times and he never told me anything about himself. I know nothing.”

Admittedly, that’s a lie, but until you have more answers yourself, you’re not saying anything.

Jimin is quiet but his gaze is steady. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“You don’t,” you answer quietly. “But it’s my word or nothing.”

A beat of silence passes and it feels like an eternity. Your gun remains aimed at Jimin and his men hold theirs up to you, but you know they won’t shoot – there’s something sure in Jimin’s gaze as you both stand there in the middle of the room staring at each other, something that tells you you’re safe. 

He doesn’t say anything at all as he looks past the barrel of your gun to hold your gaze, and for a moment you wonder if he recognises you just like you’ve recognised him, but it can’t be. 

In the years since your father died, your grandma has done everything to protect you, including changing your surname and moving towns. Jimin, however, had a foot in the limelight for as long as his father was alive which is why you still manage to recognise the grown man before you. 

Just as you begin to feel a wave of weakness pass over you again, Jimin looks at the man closest to him, a broad man with jet black hair. With the smallest shake of his head, his men stand down.

You let out a slow breath, lowering your own gun as Jimin turns back to you. 

He looks down at your wrist and the smallest wrinkle appears between his brow. “You’re bleeding.”

“I’ll be fine,” you mutter, hand closing over your throbbing wrist. 

“You’ve lost a lot of blood.”

You almost huff impatiently. “It’s not all mine.”

Jimin pauses to look down at your thigh. “You need someone to look at that–now.”

Confused, your eyes follow and your stomach coils when you see a gash on your thigh, the blood darkening the denim of your jeans. You don’t even know when that happened.

Clenching your fists, you look back up. “I said I'll be fine.”

Contrary to your words, when you turn away a little too quickly, everything blurs and spins. Just as everything starts to go dark, you stumble backwards and Jimin is moving towards you. 

The last thing you feel is warm hands closing around you, lowering you gently to the ground.

note. thank you so much for reading! please share your thoughts with me and if you have any questions ask awayyy! (especially as it only gets more intense :) the action should take a bit of a break though as we’re introduced to and learn more about the characters 😋 (also writing action is hard 😭)

[kkrymiii]

"Seriously serious"

G!p stucoVPminjeong x Troublemaker fem reader

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

MDNI! (Not proofread)

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

CW: smut, G!p, Degrading, possesive, Swears, public sex, aggressive pulling idk, manhandling, Reader being a menace & MINJEONG BEING IN THE SCHOOL BAND

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

It was just an ordinary day, Well for y/n it is. Causing problems, pranks, disrupting class lessons, skipping class, and just basically being troublesome.

So as Y/N was running for her life in the halls after pranking some of her friends, when she was looking behind her laughing her ass off looking at her friends chasing her suddenly as she turned around she saw Kim minjeong, one and only Student council vice president Kim minjeong.

As Y/N was gonna go pass minjeong suddenly minjeong grabbed Y/N she caught her off guard, it made Y/N almost fall to the floor but minjeong grabbed her tightly by the arm.

"Now miss L/N what do you think your doing now?" Minjeong said staring at Y/N with fire in here eyes.

"Uhh... Ah... Miss stuco vp well as you see I'm running?... Hehe?.." Y/N said awkwardly smiling as she gulped.

Minjeong shooting darts through her eyes on Y/N due to the troubles she has cause but maintained her cool composure as stuco vp.

"Well It seems like because of this ruckus that you have caused I'll be needing your help setting up the decorations for the upcoming sports festival. This will be your consequence for the week." Minjeong said loosening her grip on Kurayamis arm, as Kurayami just looked at minjeong in the eyes, sweating knowing what this meant......

Y/N just accepted her fate, mumbling the word "seriously" as she heard the punishment.

"Seriously!! Do I seriously need to do this?!" Y/N complained carrying 3 heavy boxes trying to see where minjeong is as she follows her.

"Seriously serious miss L/N. If you just would've had listened to what I said maybe you wouldn't be breaking your bones sweating the whole time this week."Minjeong replied giggling at the sight of Kurayami struggling...

A good 7 minutes of more walking Kurayami then placed the boxes on the floor of the stage in the auditorium. Y/N sat at the floor panting as she leaned on a close by wall.

"Mhm... This isn't the first time I've seen Y/N be so tired" Minjeong commented giggling as she sat by Y/N on the floor...

"Ah...you gonna practice today miss vp?" I muttered quietly as I looked at the pretty girl beside me... My girlfriend....

"Indeed..." Minjeong replied as she stared back at Y/N with a soft smile

"Seriously why do you always choose my punishments as me being your personal assistant for the week." I replied back frustrated as my arms hurt

"Well it's so that I could monitor my girlfriend... Is that a crime now?" Minjeong replied giggling as she squeezed one of Y/N's cheek finding her adorable.

"Seriously is this the cold and scary stuco vp that everyone says?... I wonder what they'll think if they find out your actually like this." I replied cringing as she squeezed my cheek.

"Well I'm not like this only with you i also act like this with my friends. It's just that I don't like students who are fake." Minjeong replied as she held Kurayamis hand gently as she monitored her band mates arranging the set for the practice. As they held hands as the time passes as they both zone out together as they watch the students arrange the stage...

"Alright. Well you should go and practice I'll watch" I said as I pat her back. As minjeong smiled to me as she stood up and walked to the stage getting her guitar and setting it up as she talked to her band mates about the song....

As Y/N watched them practice sitting on the floor backstage watching them, she ofcourse eventually got bored. Zoning out most of the time or getting distracted with other things she noticed.... As time goes by she decided to get up and leave the auditorium, I mean she's the school troublemaker after all she doesn't care if minjeong scolds her.

As she sneakily managed to get out of the auditorium, walking throughout the halls acting chill as she found her way back to the cafeteria finding her friends.

After 2 Hours the bands practice was finally done, as minjeong went back stage hurriedly finding Y/N but as she kept looking she could not find her, she sighed loudly furiously leaving the auditorium finding Y/N in the campus.

Minjeong who was storming into every other room furiously as the other students stared at her, scared when they saw her... And clueless Y/N who was in the cooking club having fun and cooking donuts with her dumbass, And for minjeong who basically just searched the whole school went downstairs as she smelled the smell of donuts coming from the cooking club, Y/N is apart of the cooking club for the reason she wanted to burn the whole school or smth... But as minjeong went down to the cooking club as expected Y/N was there cooking, feeding her friends, laughing, having fun... But in minjeongs eyes in that moment. It was flirting...

"Excuse me miss L/N you have some duties that you have not finished yet, and you decided to sneak out of it?" Minjeong said barging in the room grabbing Y/N's wrist

Y/N who froze in her place staring at minjeong as her friends just backed up betraying Y/N hehehe, Minjeong then seeing that Y/N didn't want to respond then just drags her out of the room dragging her in the halls somewhere.

"Yah! Kim minjeong are you crazy!?" I scolded trying to get her grip of me but she won't budge, as she ignores my words and leads me to the student council room, Locking the door and closing the blinds.

"I am Fucking crazy Y/N... Are you?" Minjeong said as she held on Y/N's tie and her other hand on Y/N' waist, pushing her as Y/N bumped into the table having no choice but to sit on it.

"Wh-what.. seriously what's with you again.. just because I sneaked out?!" I scolded trying to push her off but her grip was hard asf...

"Sneak out? Sneaked out to flirt with your other friends now?" Minjeong said furiously as Y/N just stared at her confused "what the fuck are you saying?!" Y/N replied.

"Can you just be a Fucking good girl for once?" Minjeong frustrated as she loosened Y/N's tie then takes it off her swiftly, grabbing both of Y/N's wrist as she tied them together with Her tie.

"What the fuck?!" I said fighting back but she placed her whole weight on me which made me have a hard time.

"Shut the fuck up and be good for once okay baby?!" She cooed but eyes still filled with fire as she grabbed Y/N's tied wrists leading her to the couch as the threw her onto the floor making her kneel as minjeong sat on the couch.

"Fuck" was all Y/N could mutter out of her mouth as she saw minjeongs huge buldge in her pants. Minjeong then gripped Y/N's hair pulling it and making her look up at her.

"Shut up okay slut?" Minjeong grinned as her other hand unzipped her pants and lowering her boxer revealing her HUGE cock. She then started jerking her cock abit to tease you, grinning at your face, and as she was satisfied she finally placed her cock in your mouth.

"Be a Fucking good girl for once, my slut.." she moaned out as her cock felt so good around your mouth. Minjeong kept on holding onto your head as she fucked your mouth hard using you like a flesh light. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head as her cock felt good in your mouth, sucking and taking her like a good girl as she fucked your mouth hard...

Minjeong who kept saying degrading words to you as you took her.. and eventually minjeong was about to release. "Fuck... Fuck.. ah- I'm coming and you'll take it like a Fucking.. good girl.." she said whimpering as she held onto your head Fucking your mouth as she cummed in your mouth, minjeong slowly thrusting now as she rides out her climax, as you swallow it all licking her tip with your tongue smoothly making her groan out due to the feeling gripping harder on your hair.

As minjeong releases her cum she then looked at your for a good minute before grinning quickly taking out her cock out of your mouth creating a 'pop' sound, as she grabbed your chin making you look up at her seeing your disheveled state your mouth having liquids around it as she pulled you up roughly kissing you putting her tongue tasting herself. As she makes you sit on her lap and proceeds to make out with you, you two moaning out loud as your tongue dances together, and her hands roaming around you massaging your curves, breast, hips over your clothes as her hands move to your thighs drawing circles on it teasing you. As you tremble in the feeling moaning in your kisses as minjeong then unzips your skirt taking it off you as she broke the kiss and stared at your beautiful face before smirking....

Fuck her smirk is so attractive... You thought to yourself...

As she then grabs you by the waits manhandling you placing you on all fours on the couch as she kneels behind you smacking your ass, making you whimper and pant a lot as she giggles at your reactions... Squeezing massaging your ass was the best. She then reached your neck giving kisses from behind being gentle, as your breath getting heavier as you whimper as you feel her hand playing with your panties waistband as she slowly pulls it down taking off your panties, as she distracts you by kissing your neck from behind all over. She finally pulled back and stares at your beautiful ass as she touches it teasing you, as you feel so embarrassed while releasing your whimpers. Her cock already hard from before as she takes out a condom from her pocket and opens it placing it on her cock...

"fuck I want to feel you raw so much baby...but we have responsibilities don't we darling?" Minjeong mutterd a smirk clearly heard in her voice as she stared at your ass liking the view as you moan in response.... she holds her cock Infront of your entrance as she then holds onto your waist and then she smacks herself in you going in your rough making you moan out loud as soon as she goes in you making you see stars. She fucks into you hard not giving any mercy to you as she giggles seeing you so weak.. then suddenly you feel her hands playing with your clit also making you go crazy releasing loud moans from your mouth, her long fingers, her skilled fingers playing with your clit while she fucked you with her cock is insane, is what you thought to yourself as you release loud moans every thrust she gives to you.

"ah fuck baby you feel so good you know?... I like it so much when your my slut." Minjeong says slamming into you using you like her own fuck toy enjoying it so much... "Ah min- I'm.. in coming please!" You moaned out as you felt your climax coming "do it slut. Cum on me" her deep voice said making you moan out loud as you felt yourself releasing your load on her cock...

Minjeong who also moaned out loud as she came also... She pulled out as she looked at your beautiful ass.... She then took off the condom around her cock seeing it so messy she then just threw it on the table as she grabbed you by the waist manhandling you making you lay on your back on the couch as she leaned into you giving you kisses all around your face and neck, as you panted and whimpered hard carresing her head.

"mhm darling... You should get dressed. We have things to attend to... We're still in school" minjeong said as she sucked hickeys onto your neck and giving love bites as she pulled out and fixed your hair looking at your beautiful face even tho your so messed up right now.

Let's just say after that great experience, you two fixed yourself's cleaning everything up and leaving the room going different ways... And continued the school day.

-UGH omg this is my first one guys be nice😒 hehe but if there's any mistakes in sorryryyxys😶 I literally did this so fast I was just writing the smut part while listening to my playlist and my hands started typing so I'm sorry if I made any mistakes. ik this ain't good too SHAHAH

[eddiesxangel]

Take Me to the Lakes | E.M x f!reader ~ 1/6

AN: Hello! This is a very overdue, completely revised version of one of the first Eddie fics I ever wrote. Hopefully I fixed all of the issues and things I didn’t like. Fingers crossed I didn’t miss anything… hope you enjoy!!

Master list

Summery: This summer was suppose to be the summer to work at your favourite place in the world with your best friend. But things take a turn when it isn’t your best friend you end up working with.

CW: camp AU, counsellor!eddie x f!camp counsellor reader, popular!reader, 18+ content, drinking, weed consumption, angst, eventual smut, fluff, reader and Eddie are in their 20’s. Part 1/?

wc: 13.4k

Finally, your last freshman year of college exam was behind you. Summer was at your fingertips, and you couldn't wait to get it started. Summer was when you could escape the pressures of college life and the expectations of the people in your hometown of Hawkins. Growing up, you were incredibly popular. You were on the student council, a competitive dancer and co-captain of the cheer team in high school. Dancing was your passion; you enjoyed all styles, from jazz and contemporary to ballet and hip-hop. Cheerleading was also important to you; you made the team in your first year of high school. Although you never set out to become part of the popular crowd, your involvement in these extracurricular activities naturally led you to that status.

“Hey! Wait up!” You turn and see your best friend Ashley running towards you as you exit the university campus doors. “I can’t believe you’re trying to sneak out on me before you’re gone for the whole summer!” She exasperated. “It’s not my fault you didn’t send your resume in time! I put a good word for you and everything.” You huffed back with an eye roll. You and Ashely were supposed to work at the sleepover camp where you’ve been a counsellor for the past two summers. Yet Ashley conveniently forgot to submit her application in time.

When you started working at Camp Murdock, nobody knew who you were. It was a fresh start, a clean slate. The camp is located about four hours north of your hometown, and people from all over come to work there for two months during the summer season. Maybe it was the natural surroundings, but you broke out of your shell during your first summer there.

You were no longer labelled as the prude-popular-teacher’s pet cheerleader; you were just you, the loud, outgoing, funny, and goofy camp counsellor. The campers loved learning silly dances to camp songs with you, and you truly felt like yourself at that camp. This summer, you were looking forward to spending time with Ashley, the one person from back home with whom you feel comfortable being yourself. Unlike yourself, Ashley is a confident and independent girl who never adhered to societal norms or cared much about what others thought of her. She was always the one to speak her mind, dress the way she wanted, and hang out with whomever she pleased. Her free-spirited nature and carefree attitude were a breath of fresh air for you, especially since you've always worried about fitting in and what others thought of you. You had hoped that this summer, you could let your guard down and be yourself, only this time with your partner in crime.

You and Ashley were like two individuals from different worlds. While you were more inclined towards mainstream activities, Ashley had a unique taste in hobbies and interests. She was a passionate photographer who loved capturing the world through her lens. Ashley was also a big fan of the Dungeons and Dragons fantasy game and punk music, and she didn't care much about conforming to social norms. Then there was Ashley's style. She was equally distinctive and rebellious. She had short hair, which was always styled in an edgy way. She loved to wear dark, smokey makeup with lots of eyeliner, which matched her punk-inspired wardrobe. She often wore baggy flannel shirts, big jeans and combat boots – a look very different from your own.

Walking together, you two were like a study in contrasts. You attracted many curious glances from the people around you, especially freshmen not used to seeing such different styles. However, over time, people got used to your strikingly different looks and learned to appreciate the uniqueness of your friendship.

“Ash, why couldn’t you submit your application on time?!” You groan as someone catches your eye, walking out of the parking lot.

Him. The guy you’ve been crushing on since the tenth grade. The upper-class man who was supposed to graduate the year you discovered who he was but was held back a few years. When he finally graduated, you saw him around town occasionally, but now you watched as he exited the corner store across the street from the school.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me; you couldn’t have—” she cut herself off, noticing you were practically drooling at who caught your eye. “You know you could just talk to him? I always talk you up when we play DND.” she raises her brow. “And say what? Hi Eddie, I’ve been in love with you for three years now. Would you please go out with me?” Ash rolls her eyes in response. “Babe, you know you’re one of the most popular girls in Hawkins. You can have any guy you want! You need to try. Start with a ‘hello,” she said, pushing your shoulder toward his van. “Ashley Joanna Thompson, stop!”Just because you’ll never have boy problems…” you frown at her. “You’re right. I only have girl problems. Men are simple creatures, ” she states as a matter of fact. You once again roll your eyes and glance over one more time in Eddie’s direction, seeing him light up a cigarette as he drives off the lot, blasting his heavy metal. You sigh as you get into your car and drive you and Ashley back to your shared apartment.

After returning home, you took a moment to relax and celebrate your successful day with a refreshing drink. You then continued to pack your duffle bag, carefully considering which items you would need for your upcoming trip. As you packed your last-minute essentials into the bag, you couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia and sadness thinking about Eddie Munson. You remembered the brief encounter with him in the parking lot and realized that this would be the last time you would see him for the rest of the summer.

As the clock strikes 10:00 pm, you try to calm yourself and get some rest for the long trip tomorrow. However, your mind is preoccupied with thoughts of Eddie, and you can't seem to shake this crush off your mind. You've only had the chance to speak to him three times, and they were all brief and awkward "Heys" when you picked up Ash from the DND club. Despite the limited interactions, you find yourself constantly thinking about him and wondering what it would be like to get to know him better. The more you try to push him out of your mind, the more persistent the thoughts become, making it difficult to focus on anything else. You wonder if it's just a fleeting crush or if there could be something more to it.

When you settle into bed, you let your mind drift off to when you first saw him…. As you made your way through the labyrinthine halls of the school, your mind was preoccupied with the task of finding the drama room. You had promised Ashley that you would pick her up after cheer practice and didn't want to be late. After a few twists and turns, you finally saw the door you sought. Glancing at your watch, you realized you were already 15 minutes behind schedule, thanks to the practice running over its allotted time. Without hesitation, you reached for the door handle and pushed it open. “Hey Ash, I'm so sorry I’m late! Practice—“You stop dead, looking at the group of eyes staring up at you. Your cheeks burned, and you felt embarrassed when you realized they weren’t done yet and had interrupted. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I thought I was late.” Giving Ash a knowing look to say, “Help me.” “It’s ok, babe. We will be done in 15 minutes. Right guys?” She looks around at the rest of the club to confirm; your eyes watch each face to ensure they all nod. “Sit with me,” she smiles. You walk around the group of guys, plus Ashley, smiling meekly as they all stare with mouths open but one. As you saunter towards Ash, you notice all eyes follow your every move. When your gaze meets his, you feel a sudden and unexpected surge of fluttering in your stomach. His eyes are big, beautiful, and the colour of warm chocolate. They exude a softness and warmth that make you feel safe and secure.

His hair is longer than any other guy's at school. It falls in soft waves around his face, giving him an air of mystery and intrigue. You can't help but wonder what it would feel like to run your fingers through it. You notice the leather belt he's wearing, with handcuffs as the buckle. It's both alluring and dangerous at the same time.

His shirt is cut off at the elbow, revealing his forearm tattoos. On his upper arm, you see a group of bats, their wings spread wide as if ready to take flight. But it's the tattoo on his inside forearm that really catches your attention. It's a marionette puppet of a monster, but it was being controlled by a hand. It’s a strange and eerie tattoo, but it only adds to his mystique.

“What’s with pompoms?” One of the other guys asks, jerking you out of your trance. “Don’t be such a jerk, Jered. This is my best friend,” Ashley scowls back. Suddenly, you’re very self-conscious about the cheer practice uniform you had on. “I’m sorry to interrupt again; please continue.” You squeak, trying to keep the peace. The group of them roll their eyes, all but him.

You basically run out of there as soon as Ash is finished. “Who was that?!” You nod your head in his direction as you watch the group if them walk away. “Who? Eddie? He’s our Dungeon Master. He's really theatrical, and he makes you picture the scene,” she laughs. “Eddie,” You sigh. “Oh no, you’re joking, right? You’re a cheerleader, and you’re telling me Eddie Munson is your type?” she almost yells while they’re still in earshot. Clasping your hand over her mouth, you look at Eddie, hoping he didn’t hear anything. “Would you shut up? Why don’t you announce it to the whole town?” You spit through your teeth. “Besides, he didn’t even look at me. I’m some scrawny 10th grander. I’m probably not even his type! You see his tattoos, leather, and chains… he’s probably into rocker chics, and he’s what?” “12th grade,” she confirms, and you groan. “I’ll put in a good word,” she teased. “Would you?” You bite my fingers, giving her the best puppy eyes. “You owe me.” She rolled her eyes.

That was three years ago, and Ashley's “good word” clearly wasn’t doing anything. So you roll over in bed and finally doze off.

—

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

Your alarm clock jolts you awake, and as you groggily reach over to turn it off, you notice the bright red digits displaying 6:30 am. Your first summer day has finally arrived, but you don't get to savour it with a lazy morning. You stretch your arms and rub the sleep out of your eyes while taking a moment to appreciate the soft light filtering through your window.

As you start your day, you decide to wear your favourite camp clothes—a pair of well-worn jean shorts and last year's Camp Murdock heather grey tank top. Camp Murdock is printed in green to match the forest-green spaghetti straps. You slip on your trusty white Keds and take a moment to admire how perfectly the outfit fits you in the mirror.

Before saying goodbye to Ashley, you pack your food and prepare yourself for the long journey ahead. You have four hours of driving before you reach the camp, but you can't wait to get there. The day is filled with excitement, counsellor bonding, and cabin preparation - all in preparation for the campers' arrival in three days.

As you hit the road, you let your mind wander, thinking about all the camp activities you'll enjoy. The warm sun streams through the car window, and you can feel the anticipation building up inside you. You know the journey ahead won't be quick, but you're ready. You take a deep breath and let the adventure begin. The sweet smell of the nearby lake is in the air, adding to the excitement of being up north. It's so strong that you can almost taste the cool, refreshing water on your tongue. You can't help but feel excited as you imagine the adventures that await you at Camp Murdock.

The camp is 20 minutes from the main road, providing a sense of seclusion from the hustle and bustle of everyday life. As you inch closer, the aroma of the surrounding Birch trees fills your senses, as does the sweet scent of freshly cut grass and wildflowers. After an arduous 4.5-hour journey, you finally arrive at Camp Murdock.

Your blissful thoughts were rudely interrupted by a big van cutting in front of you, nearly hitting your front bumper. “Asshole!” You yell out the window while giving the finger. The driver gave a mocking wave as they sped off. This road only goes to one place. You’ll give them a piece of your mind. Minutes later, you arrive and pull up beside the van that had cut you off. You slammed the door as you exited your small red Ford sedan, still feeling furious. This was definitely not how you wanted to start your day. As you huffed and puffed, you noticed the van looked familiar… but no, it couldn't be the same. It was different; it had to be.

You look around the parking lot and notice other cars from past employees, but you don’t see anyone yet. You feel a small butterfly in your stomach, thinking, what if it is the van you think it is? As you take a moment to absorb your surroundings, you notice the quaint cabins, the inviting mess hall, and the mesmerizing beauty of the lake. You can't help but feel a sense of peace and tranquillity as you stand in your happy place.

The gentle waves of the lake, the rustling of the trees, and the chirping of the birds create a serene atmosphere you never want to leave. Every time you come here, you feel refreshed and renewed, ready to face whatever life throws.

“Bambi! you made it!” You whip my head around to see Robin, your best camp friend, whom you’ve worked with for the past two summers. Every year, counsellors are assigned nicknames a few days before the kids come. “Birdie!” You embrace her in a big hug, forgetting about the van and the possibility of who it belongs to. “How are you?! How did you get hotter? I didn’t think that was possible. Come, everyone’s already here! And you have to meet the newbies.” She smiles. You leave your belongings in the car and rush to the mess hall with all the other staff. “So, see any cuties so far?” You jokingly giggle. “Oh, just you wait,” she blushes, making her cheeks the same shade of pink as her tank top. Glancing around, you see our other alumni. “Hey, guys!” You wave enthusiastically. Your best camp friends, Steve, a.k.a. Moose, Nancy, a.k.a. Scout, and Billy, a.k.a. Coyote. They all embrace you in welcome hugs, and you cannot wait to catch up.

You stood scanning the vast wooden mess hall, taking in the rustic ambiance of the place. As you gazed down the rows of brightly coloured picnic tables, a sense of excitement and anticipation began to build up inside you. You were looking for new faces, hoping to meet someone interesting. But deep down, you knew that there was one particular face you were subconsciously seeking out - one that held a special place in your heart.

As you walk around up to greet more of your fellow coworkers, the memory of the van still lingers in the back of your mind. You can't shake off the ‘what if’ feeling you've been carrying since you saw it earlier. You try to push it to the back of your mind and focus on the task at hand—socializing with your colleagues.

As you make your rounds, exchanging pleasantries with familiar faces, your eyes quickly dart across the room. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a figure — a guy with long, curly brown hair dressed in all black. He seems to be in a hurry and is quickly exiting the building from the opposite side of the room.

You can't help but wonder who and what he's up to. You try to catch another glimpse of him, but he's already gone. Curiosity catches up to you, and you excuse yourself from the conversation. You ungracefully maneuver your way through the sea of people, weaving in and out of the throngs until you finally reach the red saloon doors to exit the mess hall. Taking a moment to pause and assess your surroundings, you are struck by the lake's serene beauty. The water is calm and placid; you know it will no longer remain this still for the next three months. The sun shines brightly overhead, casting a brilliant glow across the water's surface. The light is so intense that it almost blinds you, but you can't help but be awed by the breathtaking view before you. You quickly look over to the cabins and see no one. Then, looking to the left, you can see the sports field, not a soul. Where could they have gone? You think. “Bambi, where did you go?” You hear Coyote, a.k.a Billy, behind you. “I thought I saw someone… guess not.” You shrugged. “Don’t worry, you’ll meet everyone. We’re about to start introductions by the pit.” He smiles. “Ok, let’s get going!” You jump onto his back, and he piggybacks you to the fire pit. You met Billy last summer, and he became a very close friend. He and Steve were your go-to guys for anything.

As you and Billy approach the fire pit to greet the other counsellors, you can hear them chatting and catching up before sitting on the bleacher benches around the pit. “OKAY, CAMP, MURDOCK STAFF, TAKE A SEAT AND LISTEN UP!” The camp director, Carol’s voice echoed from the megaphone. You all listen, and you sit between Billy and Robin. “All right, councillors and staff. Let's review some ground rules before we get to the good stuff.” It's good to know Carol’s megaphone still works. “I know some of you are vets here at Camp Murdock, but we have some new faces, so we need a refresher.” You watch Steve roll his eyes as he sits across from you, and you stifle a giggle. Carol continues, “Basic ground rules: Staff are not to be out of their cabins after 11:30 pm, and staff are not to be in the lake alone or unsupervised by another staff member. Staff are NOT allowed to have a romantic or physical relationship with a camper... That said, staff can be with each other if it is consensual, just not during camp hours.” Carol’s eyes graze the crowd as the groans for the guys all come out in sync. This was not a new rule per se, but it was heavily enforced. Last year, Angela and Connor were caught making out in the barn while they were supposed to be on field duty, and both were fired on the spot. “We, here at Camp Murdock, value the experience of the campers and our staff; we know you want to have fun, and you can do whatever you like after camp hours, as long as it’s legal.” That got some giggles from the crowd. The staff were known to sneak in alcohol and pot from time to time on your off days between camper rotations or just in the evenings to blow off some steam. “What are camp hours? I’m so happy you asked! Breakfast is 8:00 am to Bonfire at 8:30 pm. Campers are in cabins by 9:25 pm. That allows councillors to do what they like before we all have to be in our cabins by 11:30 pm on the dot! Do I make myself clear?” Again, her gaze scans the crowd of young adults in front of her, and you see the crowd nod simultaneously. “Good,” she sighs. “Now, Each cabin will be assigned a bit differently this year. Four councillors per staff cabin instead of our usual 6, and camper cabins will be assigned with 2 councillors for 8 campers. Our ages of campers this year remain the same, eight to sixteen years of age. All cabins will be assigned randomly, and you cannot ask to switch with someone… I will assign that later, before the campers arrive, so you and your partner can set up the cabins as you see fit. Next onto the good stuff!” Carol explained the games and how she would divide the staff into six teams.

Those who had attended the event knew that having Steve and you on their team guaranteed victory. Due to your petite stature, you were small enough to blend in and navigate through the trees without being detected, while Moose, a.k.a. Steve, was the fastest kid in the state for three consecutive years. Together, the two of you were an unbeatable team.

“ALRIGHT, LISTEN UP!” Carol’s voice booms in the megaphone again. “Listen for your names to be called! First, we have the Green team…" your name is not called, “and Next is Purple…” still not called. “Okay, Red Team…” still nothing. “Fourth up, we have the Yellow team…” you hadn’t heard your name yet… “Ok Blue… Edward Munson…” At first, you don't realize it because no one at home calls him Edward, but then you lift your head abruptly when it hits you. Your eyes darted back and forth, scanning the area for a man whose name had been called.

Finally, you spotted him descending the bleachers two rows behind you. He had his brown curls tied back in a low bun, wearing a Black Sabbath shirt with the sleeves cut off, revealing his muscular arms, and his signature black skinny jeans hugged his lean legs. A cigarette dangled from his lips, adding to his rugged, rebellious appearance. You watched, transfixed, as he made his way down towards Carol. He flashed her his charming smile as he approached her and accepted his new counsellor shirt. “Edward, no smoking.” She grabs the cigarette from his mouth and puts it out with her foot. “Whatever you say, boss lady,” he smirks at her and walks to the rest of his team. You looked over to Robin, who was being called next, “Oh my god, it’s him!” You half-whisper to her as she gets up. “What?” she looks confused. “Robin Buckley,” you hear Carol call again. “From school! That’s the guy I’ve been talking to you about since last summer!” You glance in his direction. She smiled and wiggled her eyebrows as she went down so Carol would never call her again. “Miss. Buckley,” for the third time, sounding irritated. “Sorry Carol, I’m coming!” she grabbed her shirt and smiled. “OK! Last, we have the Pink team… Rebecca Dawson, Jason Adams, Connie Tilbury, Christopher Jenkins, Ashton Richards, and last but not least, Y/N.” She smiles, finishing the roll call. As you get up and walk over to Carol to collect your camp shirt, you look over to see if Eddie hears your name being called. As you stare over, he doesn’t even glance. He is too busy listening to Robin talking his ear off, pointing in your direction while standing next to Steve and the others on the Blue team.

As the day progressed, you took a lunch break and caught up with Steve and Robin in the line for food.

“That new guy is pretty badass,” Steve exclaims. “Oh, Bambi would know.” Robin winked. Your cheeks suddenly felt flush. “What am I missing?” Steve looks between the two of you. “Bambi looooooves him.” Robin smiles. “Bird, remember how we talked about you sharing too much? You’re doing it again,” you said in a singing voice to avoid sounding mean. However, your face was a dead giveaway as Steve looked down at you. “Edward? That guy is your type?” His voice was loud a little too loud “Would you shut up? Announce it to the whole camp, why don’t you?” You huffed. “No wonder Billy couldn’t get in your pants last summer,” he said half under his breath. “Hey!” you smack his chest with your empty cafeteria tray.

"Jeez Bambi, chill!" Steve defends himself.

“Coyote is just a friend, and there is no way he flirted with me last summer?” You watch, and Robin and Steve look at each other and then back at you, shaking their heads like you’re the crazy one.

“So tell us more about this, Edward.” Steve raises his eyebrows. “He likes being called Eddie.” You mumbled. You didn't enjoy discussing school and home when you were here. This was your escape, but Steve was a trusted friend. “He’s two years older, and he’s really good friends with Ashley. You know, my best friend from home? and I don’t know; I’ve had a big fat crush on him since the tenth grade.” “Billy’s not going to like this; he has competition.” Steve laughed. “No, he doesn’t because I don’t like Billy like that; now I’m not sure I even like him anymore, knowing he was only trying to sleep with me last summer.” You crossed my arms.

As you were about to continue, Billy and Nancy joined the group, and the subject changed. After finishing lunch and the last two activities, we were all called to the sports field to split into our capture-the-flag teams.

“ALRIGHT PEOPLE, LISTEN UP!” The megaphone was more ear-piercing than ever. “Remind me to bury that thing tomorrow.” You hear Eddie mumble to Steve, and you cannot help but giggle. “The teams will consist of Yellow, Red and Green as one and Blue, Pink, and Purple as the next team. However! I will split up Steve and Y/N to make things an even playing field this year.” Your head whips to Steve, and he mimics you before you both yell, “WHAT?!” in unison. “Common Carol, that’s so not fair!” Steve yells out. “Too bad, Moose. You’ll be with the Yellow, Red, and Green side this year; it's the final decision.” Your shoulders sink with disappointment as you watch Steve walk to the other team, cheering and greeting him with open arms. “Alright, I’ll give you 20 minutes to strategize, hide your flag, and devise a game plan. We meet back here at 3:00 p.m. on the dot!” She blows her whistle, and you move to our headquarters, the lifejacket shed. The group moves as one, and you notice who else is on the team. Birdie, Scout, and, most importantly, Eddie. The rest of your friends move to the front, taking on team captain rolls, while you linger behind, trying to summon the courage to speak to Eddie. This was your chance to get friendly; the universe gave you an opportunity, and you had to seize it.

Eddie lingered at the back of the group, and you slowed down just enough, pretending to tie your shoe so he could catch up with you.

“Hey, Eddie.” You smile at him. Eddie looked at you curiously and was a little caught off guard as if he wasn’t expecting anyone to talk to him. “Oh, uh, hi.” He was curious as to how you knew his name. “I didn’t think I would see you here this summer.” You giggle. “Uhh… yea…?” Eddie had no idea who you were, but he did know one thing: you sure were pretty.

Your facial expression betrays you as you attempt to force a smile, revealing the true emotions bubbling beneath the surface. He didn’t know who you were. You are only with Ashley twenty-four-seven back at home, attached at the hip, and he still has no clue. You feel a rush of heat creeping up your neck and spreading to your cheeks, a tell-tale sign of embarrassment. So you choose to give a slight nod, try to laugh it off and turn back so you can catch up to Robin and Nancy.

How could you be so stupid to think he would know who you are?! Of course, he wouldn’t know. He doesn’t care about cheerleading, pep rallies, or anything else. You reach up to touch the messy bun atop your head and yank out the white scrunchy so you can hide behind your hair, trying to make yourself feel better. As you catch up with your friends, they can see on your face that something is up.

“Oh, don’t get too upset. Bambi, we can still beat them even if Moose was forced to abandon us this year.” Nancy encourages, oblivious to the real reason as to why you’re flustered. “We saw you talking to him; how’d it go?!” Robin smiled. “I’m such an embarrassment; he didn’t even know who I was.” You bury your face in your hands. “I thought you said he’s mutual friends with your BFF,” Nancy, always the observant one, asked. “Ugh, he is! That’s why I’m so embarrassed.” You let out a groan and gazed up at the clear, blue sky. “I’m sure if you reminded him that you are friends with Ashley, he would remember?” Nancy reassured you. “I don’t want to talk about it. Let’s focus on the game." You and the girls round up the team. “Ok, we take this game very seriously here at Camp Murdock.” Nancy huddles you in. “We can still win this thing because Bambi is our secret weapon. Bambi wave so everyone knows who you are.” She smiles. You put on a fake smile and wave at everyone, avoiding one person’s set of eyes in particular. Robin then takes over, “I say we make a diversion. Everyone splits up into two, throwing off the other team. Scout and I will stand guard for our flag.” She points to herself and Nancy. “Now we need someone really fast,” you chime in. No one raises their hand but one. Oh god. “Okay, Edward, you and Bambi will be together, and we will use the same strategy she and Steve used last year.” “She can fill you in. The rest will be split into pairs, and we will point you where to go,” she finishes. “Uh, you can call me Eddie; no one calls me Edward.” He politely corrects.

After the instructions, Eddie makes his way over to your side of the huddle while the rest group off to their side on their own. You're going to kill your friends. They know what they’re doing… “Hey, Bambi? Right?” he smiles. “Uh, um. Yeah, obviously not my real name… but Bambi is fine.” Your mouth was dry, and you felt you had forgotten how to speak. “Sorry about earlier. It’s, um, you look familiar, but I’m not sure where I have seen you before… ” He scratches the back of his head, his bicep flexing as he reaches up, and you can’t help but gawk at him. “Yea!” You say a little too enthusiastically. “I’m y/n, you know…Ash’s best friend…” Suddenly it clicks, and you can see the realization in his eyes. How could he have not known? Maybe its because you’re in your natural state. You have no makeup on, and your hair isn’t all done up either. “I guess I’m not used to seeing you out of your cheer uniform or attached at the hip with Ash,” he chuckles. “So, what are you doing here anyway? I didn’t think anyone else from home would show up here.” You ask. “Well, you know, I had my side business as a dealer at school… that got me by, but after my little run-in with chief Jim Hopper a few weeks back, I decided to take a break for the summer, lay low.” He smirked as you listened. “ I thought Ash would also be working here this summer since she wouldn’t stop talking about it in Hellfire, which gave me the idea. I thought it couldn’t be that hard looking after the little twerps, it’s good money.” “Yea, she really screwed me over with that one,” You scoffed. “Same… we should get her back.” He smirks. “Yeah, totally.” “So, Bambi, huh?” He raises a brow. “Oh yeah, it’s um, just a camp thing. Don’t worry you’ll get an assigned nickname soon enough.”

A moment of more awkward silence fills the air before Eddie decides to speak again. “So, what is the master plan everyone talked about back there?” He asks. “Oh umm, uh, so, usually, uh, what happens, is um, that because I’m um smaller, I uh, hide in the tree line once one of the… uh, other team members finds where the flags are hidden, I sneak off to grab it, and then uh, I’d pass it off Moose—Steve, who’s like the fastest kid in the state, but he’s not here so I’ll be passing it to you and all you have to do is to our zone then we win.” You catch your breath. You’re totally rambling and sounding like an idiot. Why can’t you speak in front of him? “Oh…ok, sounds good.” he looks confused, like he is trying to process the jumble of words that fell out of your mouth, but he gives a reassuring smile. When he looks at you like that, your legs feel like Jello, your heart feels like it will fall into your stomach, and you hardly look him in the eyes. His smile is soft and tender compared to his rough and tough exterior.

So far, things seem to be going according to plan. You both have taken cover behind a fallen tree that has become a makeshift shelter. The tree is old and decaying, and the bark peels off in places. The silence between you and Eddie is palpable, and you can feel the tension building up. You want to break the silence and talk to him, but every time you try, your words get stuck in your throat. You can't help but feel slightly envious of Eddie's calm demeanour, which contrasts sharply with your nervousness. You wish you could be as composed as him, but your mind is racing a mile a minute. The longest ten minutes pass, and finally, you can see Robin running towards the two of you. Thank God. “Ok, the flag is by the infirmary; we just need to distract them.” You walked closely behind Robin as you both made your way through the field, with tall grass tickling your ankles as you walked. You could see the lake's shimmering waters in the distance, and the sounds of laughter and chatter from the mess hall carried towards you on the gentle breeze.

Despite the distance, Robin seemed to know exactly where she was going, her steps confident and sure. You walked closely behind Robin as you both made your way through the field, with tall grass tickling your ankles as you walked. You could see the lake's shimmering waters in the distance, and the sounds of laughter and chatter from the mess hall carried towards you on the gentle breeze.

As you walked, you couldn't help but wonder if Eddie was really as fast as he claimed. After all, if he weren't, it would be quite a defeat. In all your years at school with him, you’d never seen him doing anything physical. He was more of the theatrical, misunderstood musician type. “I hope you’re not lying about being fast.” You whisper to him, not thinking about anything else but the game. “What the freak can’t be quick?” He scoffs. “That’s not what I—” “There it is!” Robin cuts you off, but you can’t help but think about what Eddie said…Freak.

The thing about Eddie Munson is that he stood out from the crowd. He was unlike anyone you had ever met. He had a unique personality that not everyone could comprehend. He was always edgy and outspoken, and he never cared about the status quo. One day, during lunchtime, he even stood on the cafeteria table and screamed at one of the basketball players sitting at your table. It was a shocking event that left everyone in the cafeteria stunned.

However, despite his eccentricities, you always admired Eddie's courage to be himself. You didn't like how everyone at school called him a freak, and you always tried to defend him. You stood up for him whenever your so-called friends made fun of him, but they never listened to you. They would mock you for "sympathizing with the freak," and it made you feel isolated.

Despite all of this, you never gave up on Eddie… your attraction to him was too strong. You always knew that he was a kind and genuine person, and you appreciated his unique perspective on life. You hoped that one day, others would see him for who he truly was and accept him for his differences.

The neon yellow flag was posted beside the infirmary door, and you could see the guards on the lookout. Ashton was rounding the corner, and Robin approached the other side as a decoy. “Follow me,” you whisper to Eddie. You could feel his gaze on your back, burning a hole through the thin material of your shirt. “On the count of three, I’ll run over, grab it and bring it back here for you. One… two… three.” You scurry as fast as your legs can take you. You grabbed it easily, but getting back was the hard part. On the way back, you made sure to hide behind objects, making sure the coast was clear until you heard a “Hey!” Steve’s voice came from behind you, and you ran. “Eddie here!” You yell to get his attention. You should have worn your sports bra today. The straps of your tank top and bra are slipping down your shoulders. You totally forgot that you would be doing this when you got dressed this morning.

As you rush towards Eddie, you notice his eyes widen as he watched you run towards him. You hand him the flag, and he takes it from you, holding it tightly in his hands. You can tell that he is not sure what to do as he stares at you, unable to move. You watch him for a moment as he continues to gaze down at you, his wide eyes focused on your chest. “What are you doing? Go!” You give him a little shove, taking him out of his trance, and then he runs like you have never seen anyone run in your life. The guy was right; he was fast.

You can hear cheering from across the field as you try to keep up with him while running away from Steve, trying not to get tagged. “Eddie, run! He’s coming!” You yell to warn him and he looks back. His long hair getting in his eyes, but he can still see Steve on his tail. “Come on, Eddie, you can do it!” You cheer, hoping he can still hear you. You watch as he touches the team's safety zone! You did it! Your team won! “Sorry, Moosey, maybe next year.” You give him a mock pout as he bends over to catch his breath. “Congrats to the winning team!” Carol cheers. “Now you can make your way to the pit. I’ll give you your cabins, and you can set them up.”

“Hey, you were right. You are fast.” You hear Becca say as the group of you return to the pit. She batted her eyes and smiled at him. Was she flirting with him? The pit of jealousy that was forming felt like a rock in your stomach. You could not let this happen, so you marched over to them. “Hey, we make a pretty good team.” Bumping Becca out of your way. “Hey, yeah, we do.” Eddie spoke and you noticed the glint in his eye when he raised his hand for a high five. A playful smile tugged at the corners of his lips, inviting you to join in on the fun. You mirrored his action, raising your own hand to meet his. When both of your palms touched, a jolt of electricity ran through your body, making your heart skip a beat. You couldn't help but smile back at him as he beamed with delight. “I liked having you cheer for me; I finally get why those jocks have you around all the time.” He smirked, and your cheeks burned once again… maybe you can blame it on the sun. “Oh,” you giggled. Thanks…Um, you know, I don’t like it when you say you’re a freak…” The end of your sentence was hardly a whisper. “Oh, well, it was your friends who started it.” You wince at his words. You hate who he thinks you are, and it is all your fault for letting him believe that you are just like the rest of them. “I ask them not to, but they never listen.” You tuck your messy hair behind your ear. “Don’t worry, Princess. You don’t have to worry about that high school bullshit anymore. “Princess?” You scoff. “Well, you were the Princess of Hawkins High.” He says it is a matter of fact. “No, wasn't, you know nothing about me,” “Woah, sorry, didn’t mean to offend you.” he raised his hands in defence. “What’s going on?” Billy, out of all people, comes running up. “Nothing,” you say simultaneously. “Back off, man.” Billy was getting in Eddie’s face. Why was he acting so weird? “What the hell, Billy? Get away from him.” You tried to shove him, but Billy was a foot taller than you and much stronger. “Look, man, nothing happened.” Eddie backed away. “I’ll see you around, Princess.” He winked and walked off to the pit with everyone else. “That guy is-” “Billy, not now.” You huff, trying to walk away. “Come on, Bambi, what’s going on…” “Nothing, let’s get going.” You pull on his arm to get to the pit.

Eddie never meant to hurt your feelings or make you uncomfortable, but he couldn’t help himself; there was just something about you that he couldn’t resist egging you on. You were so cute when your face would scrunch up and think you looked all mean and scary, but in reality, he could compare you to the mouse from Tom and Jerry. His need to push your buttons was strong. Your perfect, cute, irresistible buttons. Eddie had an urge and wanted to see how far he could go. From the moment you first got flustered, he enjoyed it; he liked making you flustered.

At the pit, you were all lined up to get your assigned cabins. Every cabin was assigned by gender, so girl councillors were assigned with girl campers, and boy councillors were assigned with boy campers. Thankfully, you were assigned to cabin 8 with Robin, Nancy, and Cassie, a.k.a. Clover, one of the nicest girls you know. “I'm so happy we are all back together again this year!” Nancy jumped up and down. The three of you have been inseparable the past two summers. “You guys are so lucky you're bunked together; we’re with the two newbies, Eddie and Ashton,” Billy said while walking beside Steve. “At least we’re cabin neighbours!” Nancy observes, seeing that they were assigned to cabin 7. “Bambi, this is great; you have your own little spy squad,” Robin winked, and you rolled your eyes. “What are you talking about Bams?” Billy asks. “Bambi knows Eddie from home and—” You clasped your hand over Robin’s mouth, not wanting to make anything weird since Steve shared the information about Billy liking you last summer. “And nothing.” You finished her sentence. The boys looked at you confused, but you were sure Steve would tell Billy later, seeing as they’re best friends. You didn’t want anyone overhearing since Eddie and Ashton were coming your way. “Hey guys, what are we talking about?” Ashton approached the group with Eddie by his side. “Bambi was telling us how she and Eddie are from the same hometown,” Billy piped up. “Yea, Princess of Hawkins High here,” Eddie smirked. “Please don’t,” you begged. You hadn’t shared your home life with your camp friends, and you didn’t want that to follow you here. “What’s he talking about, Bams?” Nancy asked. “What? You haven’t told them about how you’re Hawkins it girl? Popular cheerleader, homecoming queen, or ringing any bells?” Eddie questioned. “So you do know who she is!” Robin gasped. “I’m more than a cheerleader.” Your eyes stinging, holding back tears. Was that how Eddie only saw you? You guess that’s the persona you were trying to give off; you cannot blame him. But that will all change; you will make it your mission to have Eddie Munson know the real you. Your friends look at you with puzzled faces. “I mean, that makes sense. Of course, you’re popular; you’re one of the best people we know.” Nancy piped up. “Thanks, Scout.” You gave a small smile.

—

Setting up Cabin 8 was a piece of cake. You took the bottom bunk, and Cassie took the top. Robin took the other bottom bunk across from you on the other bed, and Nancy took the top bunk. You got along great with your bunkmates; you were really lucky. If anything, you could have been bunked with Sarina and her group, and that would not have gone over well.

As you helped the girls unpack their bags after arriving at your cabin, you looked out of the window and noticed that you had a perfect view of cabin 7.

You took a moment to admire the lush greenery and the serene surroundings, but your attention was quickly diverted when you noticed Eddie walking in and settling down on his bunk. You could see that he had his guitar with him, and he placed it right across from your own bunk.

After helping others with their tasks, you suddenly realize you have left all your belongings in your car. You decide to inform the girls that you needed to run to the car and retrieve your duffle.

As you step outside, you hear the sound of another cabin door being opened, but you ignore it and focus on getting your stuff. You walk briskly towards the parking lot, scanning for your car. Once you locate it, you quickly unlock the door and retrieve your duffle bag. As you are bent over in the back seat of my car, grabbing your things, a voice startles you. “Could get used to the view,” Eddie smirked. “Ahhh!” You jerk up “fuck!” You turn to see Eddie getting his things out of his van parked beside your car. “Excuse me?” “The lake, God, you’re not that full of yourself, are you?” He chuckled. “Oh, right,” you say, rubbing the back of your head, knowing you will soon have a headache. “You know, I wasn’t going to say anything… but you cut me off,” you say, pointing at his van. “Wouldn’t have to if you drove faster.” “I was going 20 over as it was!” “You know, Princess, I see why Coyote likes you,” he smirked. “What? I, huh? Don’t call me that,” He just smiled and walked away carrying his duffle. His arms showed the curve of his bicep, straining to hold up the big bag, the sheen of sweat glistening on his skin, the tattoos being showed off. You bite your lip, watching him walk away. You really needed to get laid this summer.

—

After dinner, you and the girls had drinks to loosen us up before going to the bonfire. It had been a while since the last time you drank; with finals and studying the past month and a half, no one was partying.

The booze made you feel warm next to the fire, and you could see Eddie sitting on the other side of the bonfire. You couldn’t help but stare until he caught you, and you tried quickly to look away. The second time he catches you staring that night, it didn’t bother you as much as it would have if sober. That was until, the third time within half an hour, he got up. Oh god, you made him uncomfortable.

“Like what you see?” Eddie sneaks up behind you, and you jump at the sudden closeness. “I can’t see much; there's too much smoke in my eyes.” You try to play it off. “Oh, too bad, Princess, because my view was quite clear, had a great view.” he winks. “What did I tell you about calling me that?” You groan. “You’re not helping yourself by acting that way, Prince—” he stops mid-sentence, seeing that you’re giving him a side eye, but he continues on, “Princess,” “I’m not acting like a Princess.” You rolled your eyes, only further proving Eddie’s point. “Could have fooled me, ” He shrugs. “Obviously, you’re not very good on judgment of character.” “No? Enlighten me.”

“Is there a problem here?” Billy somehow appeared again out of thin air and wrapped a protective arm around you. Oh god. “No, Coyote, we’re fine.” You debated whether to take his arm off your shoulder, but you wanted to make Eddie jealous. “I’ll see you around, Princess.” Eddie turned and walked back to the newbies he was befriending. After Eddie leaves your sight, you exhale and shake off Billy, noticing that Eddie is no longer paying attention. “Next time he bothers you, you can come and tell me.” Billy was stern, serious; he had a look in his eye like he’d knock the shit out of him. “Seriously, I’m fine… I gotta go, have an early morning choreography to do.”

—

The sun was shining brightly, casting a warm glow over the campgrounds. The excitement of the upcoming campers filled the air, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation for the day ahead. As the camp's dance teacher, this was your favourite part of the summer. You loved watching the kids grow and improve their skills while helping those starting out.

As you made your way to the dance hall, you could feel the excitement building within you. The hall was empty, as expected, but you could already picture the kids dancing and laughing within its walls. You walked over to the stereo, put down your towel and water bottle, and tied your hair into a high ponytail, ready for the day ahead.

The room was stuffy and hot, with no airflow to speak of. You could feel the sweat starting to bead on your forehead, so you opened up all the windows, letting a refreshing breeze fill the air, and walked over to the standing fan, turning it up to the highest setting.

As you prepared to start your day, you reached for the mixtape you had created earlier to warm up. The tape was filled with various tracks that you thought would help get you in the right mood. You walked over to the boombox and inserted the tape, pressing play. The boombox was filled with all of your favourite songs, both new and old, from various genres. Your taste in music was eclectic, and you didn't like to limit yourself to a particular genre. You enjoyed everything from classic rock to pop, sometimes metal. If a song appealed to you, you liked it, regardless of its genre.

As the music filled the room, you felt yourself beginning to relax and get into the right mindset for the day ahead. The sweet lyrics of Whitney Huston filled the empty room, and you began getting into the movements but not really warming up anymore because the heat alone did that for you. The next song came on and you made a mental note not to use this tape when the kids came to class. The song that came on wasn’t the most appropriate.

You swayed your hips slowly, getting into it. You don’t dance like this in front of anyone unless you’re in class with friends or on stage. You typically hid your sensuality for only the dance floor or when you were having sex. You know that back at home, you are labelled as a prude, but if they only knew…

As the song progressed, so did your movments. You continued down to the floor, snaking your body before popping your hips up and down quickly before sliding back up sensually. As the music moved, you felt the need to let your hair down so you would incorporate some hair-ogropy. Deciding to get off the floor, you went to stand up but slid your hands up your inner thighs, grazing over your pussy lips, hardly being covered by your dance shorts, and continued to trail your hands up past your hips to your breasts.

You turned and swayed until you caught Eddie gawking at you in the mirror. He quickly shut his mouth when he realized you'd seen him. Honestly, if it were anyone else, you would have stopped immediately being embarrassed to expose yourself like this, but you were in your element, and this wasn’t just anyone watching. You wanted him to watch, so you continued as the song went on. Thinking of the sexiest moves you could come up with. The music suddenly stopped, and you felt thirsty. You hurried towards the sound system to turn down the volume and grabbed your water bottle. You sprinkled some water on your face and took a sip before realizing that Eddie was present in the room.

“Are you just going to continue undressing me with your eyes, or are you going to say something?” You smirked. Dance really brought out the confidence in you that normally you didn’t have. He was speechless, but you finally had the upper hand. “Uh..I…um… I thought this was the music hall.” Eddie gulped, but his mouth was dry. “No, it’s the next door over.” You smiled up at him taking one step closer so your bodies were almost touching. “You uh… you’re going to teach that to the kids?” He tried to joke, but he still sounded out of breath. “No, that’s usually reserved for a special audience.” You bite your lip. “Oh, who’s that?” His confidence coming back. You. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” You took another step closer, so close you could smell his aftershave mixed with his mint toothpaste.

His lips were plump and bright pink, probably from biting them, and his eyes were locked on your chest. You were sweating, and you could feel a bead trickle down between your breasts. He quickly looked back up to your eyes when you cleared your throat.

“I guess I was wrong about you, Princess.” He licked his bottom lip. “You don’t know the half of it.” You turn and walk back to the stereo to turn on the music again. You looked back as you turned the dial. “I’d love to continue this conversation, but I have some choreography to complete before they arrive tomorrow.” You nodded your head to the door, signalling him to leave. “Oh, uh…ok yea, I’ll just um. Thanks.” He picked up his guitar case and ran out.

-

After all the dances were complete, you headed to the communal showers. The water was always freezing, so you never wanted to stay there for long, but that cold water felt nice on your hot, sticky skin. You started to hum a random song as you ran the soap along your body.

You didn’t even realize that you actually started singing instead of humming. You must have felt comfortable enough because you only sing when you’re alone.

You're done showering by the time you’ve finished the one song; camp showers really were the quickest. You reach for your bath towel and dry off inside the stall before reaching for your clothes, but then remember that you didn’t bring clean ones. All you had was your sweaty shorts and sports bra… You quickly leave the stall, praying not too many people will see you walking back to the cabin in just your towel.

Unbeknownst to you, Eddie was walking by the communal showers when he suddenly halted because he heard one of the most beautiful voices he had ever heard singing an Ozzy Osbourne song. He couldn't resist stopping to investigate. He needed to know who was on the other side. Eddie had been hypnotized, so he didn’t notice that he had been creeping closer and closer to the door to try to hear better over the running water. He was mesmerized by that voice.

When the water turned off, the singing stopped, bringing Eddie back to reality. He realized where he was and what he was doing. Tripping over his feet, he quickly stumbled back, leaving enough space between him and the fire to not look like an absolute creep. But he decided to hang around for a minute or two, pretending to fix his guitar just so he could find out who the mysterious voice was.

As you walk out of the showers, you see Eddie looking just as surprised as you were. Just your luck; the one person you did not want to see while you looked like a wet dog was standing there as if he was waiting for you. You wrap the towel around you tighter, seeing as though you are naked, and you try to avoid him, but he starts speaking. “You know, Ozzy?” He asked, dumbfounded. Oh god, did he hear you? “Uh… yea.” “You have a beautiful voice,” he says without thinking. Of course, it was you. Was there anything you couldn’t do? Eddie thought. You’re extremely smart, athletic, kind to everyone, and you fuck with metal? Why had Eddie never noticed you before?

When you locked eyes with him, his stomach felt like a thousand butterflies had awoken simultaneously. Everything suddenly made sense when he looked at you. The feeling was foreign to Eddie; he didn’t like it. Sure, he had liked girls and had a girlfriend or two, but nothing serious; never had he experienced this strong of a crush develop in such a short amount of time. He tried to swallow it; he wanted to eliminate this feeling, especially because it was you; he was unworthy of it. You deserved someone better. Before Eddie could think his legs were bringing him close to you, he wanted to be near you.

“What?! You heard me?” “I didn’t mean to. You were loud, and I couldn’t help but listen… but not in a bad way!” he said, waving his arms in defence. Was he spying on you? “Fuck! I’m sorry you’re naked, oh god, I mean, I wasn’t looking or anything, I swear! I just needed to know who that voice belonged to! Im sorry, I'll let you go get dressed; I’m not a freak who creeps on girls, I swear!” Eddie was rambling; Eddie didn’t ramble, not like this. Eddie was cool and confident, especially with girls. Eddie was in trouble.

“Eddie, I don’t think you’re a freak. Maybe a perv if you keep walking in on me in these situations.” you giggled. “But this is Murdock, not Hawkins, clean slate for the both of us.” You gave a reassuring smile. “For the both of us?” He questioned “I’m not who you think I am back at home,” you smirked as you began to walk away.

“What does that mean?” He yelled before you were out of earshot. You looked over your shoulder and gave a wink, letting the towel slowly slip as you approached the Cabin door, but you didn’t let him see anything before you walked inside. “God, this girl is going to be my death this summer,” Eddie mumbled to himself.

—

You called Ashley as soon as you were dressed. You had to walk to the office swing as there was only one phone for the staff and campers to use.

Ring, Ring, Rong, Ri-

“Hello, Thompson residence,” Ash answered “You son of a bitch!” You laughed. “Well, hello to you too,” you can hear the smirk in her voice. “You just so happened to leave out the fact that Eddie Munson has also applied for a job here?!” “Oh yeah, did I not tell you?” “Is this why you didn’t apply?! because you knew I’d be alone with him?” You questioned. “No! I genuinely forgot! But happy accident, no?” she laughed. You twisted the cord around your finger and crossed your legs thinking about it. “I cannot believe you didn’t tell me this vital piece of information.” “I thought it would be more fun this way, ya know? I get the theatrics to keep me entertained while you’re gone.” She was such a little shit “Oh, I’m so glad that my infinite crush on Eddie entertains you,” you chuckled. “Babe, come on, you’re in such a good spot! You’re the it girl, you’ve always been; you gotta loosen up, show him the real you. You’re made for one another he doesn’t know it yet because you don’t talk to him.” she emphasized. “Don’t worry. I’ve talked to him more these past three days than I have in the past three years.” You smile. “Details now!” she screamed. “I think he flirted with me while I got my stuff from my car? And he keeps calling me Princess? He said I’m the Princess of Hawkins High. You know anything about that?” There was a clear silence. “Ash!” The slice told you everything. “Ashley” “What do you want me to say? I’m surprised you didn’t know. Everyone loves you; it’s not a bad thing…” “Whatever, I haven’t gotten to the best part!” “Finally,” she sighed, and you could picture her rolling her eyes. “So I was making my dance routines before the kids come, and I had my mixtape on, so you know I was doing my thing because I was alone, or thought I was alone…” “Stop! he walked in on you?!” She gasped. Of course, your best friend has seen the types of dance you do; she is one of the most supportive people you’ve ever met. “His jaw was on the floor! and I didn’t stop, I don’t know what came over me. I just kept going; it was like my body was on fire but in a good way, not sure how else to describe it.” “Babe, oh my god, you’re going to have him in the palm of your hand before you know it.” She reassured. “And to top it all off, he bumped into me after I got out of the shower just now and told me I have, and I quote a beautiful voice.” You sighed like a lovesick teenager. “Bitch! I repeat, you’ll have him in the palm of your hand. I know what he’s like; he’s one of my best friends.” she exclaimed. “Hey! I’m your best friend.” “What I mean is one of my best guy friends… I know how he is, what he likes; trust me, he’s going to like you.” Ash really was an amazing friend. “I just don’t know if I’m his type. That nagging feeling is in the back of my head again.” “He told me once that you’re pretty,” she said nonchalantly. “What?! You’ve never told me anything before?!” “eh, guess I forgot?” Ash shrugged her shoulders. “Forgot? Ashley, come on! Im dying here. I like him so much I feel like I’m going to explode, and that is vital information.” Why would she not tell you? Maybe you’re too annoying, always talking about your crush on Eddie? “Forget Princess of Hawkins, let’s crown you as Drama Queen,” she laughed. “Shut up, enough about me. How have you been?”

— As the new day dawned, the campers eagerly anticipated their arrival at the campsite. After settling into their cabins, they were introduced to their surroundings and felt a sense of excitement in the air. Each camper was eager to make new friends and start their adventure at the camp.

The first day was filled with the joys of getting to know one another, playing games, and indulging in meals that were prepared for them. As the dance instructor, you were given the task of planning your activities for the first week. While dance was your specialty, the campers would be exposed to other activities throughout the week to keep them engaged.

Mondays were dedicated to dance, with Tuesdays offering swimming and other water-related activities. Wednesdays were all about music, Thursdays for sports and nature, and Fridays for arts and crafts. Campers could expect to rotate these activities throughout the week to avoid getting bored with any one thing for too long.

The highlight of the week was undoubtedly Tuesdays, the day when campers could take a refreshing dip in the lake. Even though swimming was designated for Tuesdays, there was free time every day for campers to explore their interests and engage in other activities, individually and with their new friends. As the summer sun beat down, the opportunity to cool off in the lake was a welcome respite for all campers. The schedule ensured that everyone could try out different activities and make the most of their time at camp.

Nighttime was an all-around favourite. After everyone was settled in their bunks, tummy full of S’mores and smelling of bonfire smoke, you, Nancy and Robin walked together towards the mess hall to find the guys playing cards. “What are we playing, and what do I get when I win?” You asked as you opened the doors. Steve, Billy, Eddie and Ashton all turned their heads to see the three of you walking through the red saloon doors. “Don’t you have campers to look after?” Steve joked. “Could say the same to you,” Robin retorted back “Touché.” He smirked. “Well, now that you girls are here, we’re playing strip poker,” Billy laughed. “Always the charmer,” You winced. “Hey, I don’t make the rules.” He raised his hands up in defence. “Fine, I know I’ll be able to stay warm while you freeze your balls off because I’m going to win.” You stare him down. Billy seemingly always had a new way of getting on your last nerve this summer. After finding out he wanted to sleep with you, all of your fond memories of him have been tainted.

“Yeah, like some girl will beat us at poker? Right guys?” Billy chuffed. The other guys knew better than to start with you or the girls. They weren’t so blockheaded as Billy was. “Not that we are excited to see your tiny dick, but shut up and deal.” You sit down, and you hear Steve, Eddie and Ashton chuckle. Yes, you are competitive, and after that exchange, you were more than ready to beat his ass.

The game went on; Nancy, unfortunately, not the best poker face, was out first, forfeiting before she was naked. Steve, Ashton, and Billy were in their boxers, and Eddie and you were still somewhat modest. All you had left was your hoodie, bra, and underwear, where Eddie had his jeans, socks, and underwear still on.

When his shirt came off, you almost lost your cool. Never had you seen him shirtless before, and it was just as good as you pictured him. He was toned, more than you had imagined, and he had more tattoos than you knew about previously. You had only seen what was on his arms before, but now you got to see a spider tattoo under his left collarbone and a zombie head under that. He has another small heart right above his right hip bone, directly beside when his happy trial started… Robin has to nudge you to break your stare before he notices.

Billy’s comment still burned in the back of your mind. You had to get it together; you couldn’t falter, and you only had fifteen minutes before you had to get back to the cabins. “So you want to call it a night, or are you ready to show me some more skin?” you asked, biting your lip. There were audible “ooooohs” coming from the other's mouths. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Princess?” The game was getting too close until you picked up on his tell. His tongue would peek out of the side of his mouth when he was bluffing. You caught it just in time; you were about to fold when you noticed. “I raised you 15… and my bra.” You run your hand under your hoodie to unclasp it and place it on the table. Thankfully, you wore the nice red lacy one and not the boring brown one.

Eddie's big brown eyes doubled in size, which you didn’t think possible when he saw what you had been hiding under the oversized sweatshirt that hit your entire figure.

“Come on, we could have seen her like that all night if one of you were better at poker.” Billy some showing his true colours of being a total douche. You try to ignore his comment. “Nancy, do me a favour and kill Coyote for me, will ya?” You asked while staring into Eddie’s eyes. You knew you had him. “I gotta hand it to your Princess. You sure know how to keep a guy on his toes.” He folds, not showing you his hand. You breathe a sigh of relief that you didn’t know you were holding. “That, boys, is how it’s done.” You clap, and the girls cheer

The rest clear out, talking about the day tomorrow and their plans. You go to reach for your winnings bra, but Eddie's fingers clap around your wrist, not hard but firm enough for you to stop. He grabs the bra by the strap and twirls it around his finger before you comprehend what is going on. “I think I’ll keep this.” He admires it. “Uh, no, I won, I get it back. You scoff. “But did you win, Princess?” He pouts down at you. “You folded.” You say, standing up to reach for your bra. “Uh-huh, not so fast.” He lifts it higher over his head so it’s out of reach. “Come on, Eds, give it back.” You jump up to grab it, but obviously miss. Eddie liked it when you got visibly flustered, especially when you called him ‘Eds’ for the first time. “I couldn’t let those guys see you topless; what kind of gentleman would I be? Especially after you took your bra off? You heard what Billy said; he’s disgusting; how do you even like him?” Eddie shows you his cards, full house; he wasn’t bluffing. “You let me win? But I caught your tell?” you said with disbelief. “And no, I do not like Billy. He likes me, that’s it. I thought he was my friend last summer, but it turns out he was only doing it to get in my pants.” Eddie was glad and relieved to hear you don’t like Billy but also annoyed and angered that he would treat you like that. “Good to know.” He smirks. “So, my bra?” You try to give him your best puppy dog eyes, but he beats you in that department. “My winning token. I think I’ll hang this trophy over my bed and have the campers see what a real woman’s bra looks like.” He winked and turned around. Eddie couldn’t wait to rub in Billy’s face that he kept it. “Hey! I better get that back by the end of the week! You don’t know how much that cost!”

Sure, you were annoyed, but you were also a little exhilarating that Eddie wanted to keep it.

—

The next morning, you thought if you could bribe Eddie, he would give back what belonged to you. You got up early to get some coffee and bring it to his cabin to negotiate.

As you returned from the mess hall, you could see three little heads peeping into the window where Eddie’s bed was. “Hey! What are you creeps looking at?” You can’t help but giggle as you watch three petrified faces turn around. “N-n-nothing, BYE!” The tallest one stuttered, and the three of them ran. By that reaction, you had a feeling it was your bra they were gawking at. You knocked on the door three times and slowly opened it up. “Hey, it’s just me. Is it safe to come in?” you asked, not looking into the cabin in case they had been changing. “All clear, Princess, just me in here,” Eddie replied. You opened the door further and almost dropped the coffee you were holding.

Eddie stood there in all his glory, in a beach towel wrapped low on his hips. He must have just showered. His hair was wet and pushed back off his face. Water droplets still ran down to his happy trail. He had more tattoos on his legs and abdomen, but you didn’t catch what they were as he pulled his forest green Camp Murdock shirt over his head.

“Take a picture; it will last longer, Princess.” He laughed, and you snapped out of it. “I uh, um, sorry, here.” You stuck out your arm out to hand him his coffee. “You trying to poison me, Princess? That’s not very regal of you.” He smirked and took the cup. “It’s a piece offering… for my bra,” you stated. “Oh, I don’t think so; you can’t just bribe me with this sad excuse they call coffee. I have my standards.” He stepped closer to the bra hanging exactly where he said it would be. “I think I won this fair and square. I’ll need something much bigger than coffee, Princess.” he tilted his head, raising his eyebrows at you. “Fine, what do you want? A pack of Camels? Weed? Beer?” “You know I already have all those things, but I’ll think about it. Maybe I’ll ask for a favour? I’ll cash it in soon, but until then, it stays with me.” He took a step closer. “You know, a real gentleman would have walked me back to my cabin last night; I was defenceless, not even my bra to support me if I was being chased.” You mimicked him, taking another step closer.

Eddie had no clue what to think. Were you filtering back? No way. Girls like you didn’t go for guys like him?

Eddie had been around the block a few times regarding dating. He was no novice in the game of love, but he had a particular type that he usually went for. The girls he pursued were nothing like you. Unlike you, they were bold and unafraid of getting down and dirty. They were rocker chicks who were not intimidated by Eddie's tough exterior. However, as much as he enjoyed the company of these girls, he knew deep down that they could never be the ones he truly desired.

“You, Sir Lancelot, are no gentleman.”You laughed, unable to keep up the act.

"Lancelot, huh? Is that name anointed camp name?" He smirks, and you nod.

“My sincerest apologies, Princess.” Eddie bowed to you and you laughed again. Eddie swore he could listen to that laugh on repeat. “I’ll consider your apology if you give me my bra back. It’s my best one.” You bat your lashes and give the biggest puppy dog eyes. Eddie didn’t know how, but you broke him with that look. Your eye colour memorized him; it was quickly turning into his favourite colour. “I-I-I” what was happening to him? Why was he blubbering like a preteen asking out his crush for the first time? Pull yourself together, Munson. “Fine, I will because you are the Princess, and I am your knight in shining armour.” Nice. “Knight in shining armour, you say? I think you’ll have to prove yourself more before I believe you.” You brave another step closer, and the tips of your toes touch. “How can I do that, M’Lady?” “I have an idea.” You slowly raise your toes until your head is up and close your eyes. “Princess? What are y—“ “Oh hey guys, oh sorry, was I interrupting something?” Stevewalked in. You let out an annoyed huff. You were so close that you were sure he was about to lean in. “It’s fine. I was just leaving.” You gave Steve a death stare that Eddie had never seen grace your face before. “What did I do?” Steve looks at Eddie. “Beats me.” Eddie shrugged before he took the first sip of the coffee you got him. To his surprise, it was exactly Eddie’s coffee order.

Next chapter

Tags: @littlexdeaths @siriuslysmoking @peachysink @nailbatanddungeon @leelei1980 @daisy-munson @taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can @strangerstilinski @bl0ssomanddie @seb-buckybarnes @chickenandsheep-blog @lokis-army-77 @ali-r3n @erinekc @impmunson @snowflowersstars246 @micheledawn1975 @princesatracionera @bells-28

[synthetickitsune]

Milk Swirls Of Destiny ✧ y.jh

Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x reader (gn) Genre: coffee shop au, fluff Summary: Yoon Jeonghan is mildly inconvenient at best and infuriating at worst. He's somehow the worst and the best coworker you have. Definitely the most annoying. Word count: 6.8k Warnings: food mentions A/N: he just lives rent free and his pretty best friend too and @hanniedream is holding me hostage in brainrot (aka being my partner in crime and emotional support and muse here) [series masterlist] [next chapter - wip]

“Aaaah… I see now. Hm…” Jeonghan swirls the cup slightly, a look of concentration on his face.

“What- what is it?” the girl standing on the other side of the counter stumbles over her words. She’s looking at him with bated breath. Her hands are clasped together as if she was praying. As if she was looking at something holy. You scoff quietly and roll your eyes once you turn your back towards them. Like there’s not enough work to do.

“Look here,” Jeonghan says and points to the squiggly line where he messed up the milk pour for a flower design. His face is the mask of seriousness. “See the waves? Clear sign of turbulent times ahead. But it smooths out eventually - it looks a bit like a star here, see?”

No. No, it doesn’t.

“-That means you’ll succeed. Just hang in there.”

The girl seems on the verge of tears as she takes the cup from Jeonghan, clutching it with both hands as she thanks him relentlessly. It’s only after a couple minutes that she finally walks off with what has to be a cold and disgusting latte. 

You understand trying to predict the future from coffee grounds, tea leaves, whatever, but to do so from a milk pour in a latte made by a barista who couldn’t pour a heart if his life depended on it? 

“You’ll scare off the customers with that sour face,” Jeonghan nudges your ribs with his elbow once he comes stand next to you and finally starts helping you with the backed up orders.

“Yeah, and the thin ice you’re dancing on will break under you one day when the customers start complaining about their coffee being cold by the time you’re done with your little fortune teller charade,” you snap back. He snickers.

“Someone’s grumpy,” he hums, “I’m here now, we’ll have these done in no time.”

You’d like to believe him. You really would. But you’re annoyed and you know it’s only a matter of time before he runs off again.

It’s not his fault that the new guy called in sick last minute. The boss knows that it’s better to have at least one more person behind the counter whenever Jeonghan is working - partly because he’s busy with his fortune telling side hustle and partly because he brings in a lot of customers. A lot of customers. And without fail all of them become annoyingly obsessed with him, it’s only a matter of time. It’s fine as long as they only come in and stare at him, it’s the ones who have to have their coffee made by him and have him read their fortunes. Like he’s not just making shit up. You’d swear you saw some fan pages dedicated to him online. 

You guess the traffic he brings to the cafe is the only reason the boss is okay with him doing his thing and leaving the rest of you to struggle.

For now though, you work efficiently and neatly together. Working with Jeonghan, when he is doing his actual job, is always smooth. You don’t need to talk to get the orders to the waiting customers fast. At times like these you only have half a mind to cringe at the winks and apologetic smiles he sends to his flock of lovesick fans. Sometimes you want to tell him he’d get even more tips - like he’s not already getting a ridiculous amount - if he let his fingers brush against theirs, but whenever you open your mouth to do it, you can’t. Your stomach twists when the words make it to the tip of your tongue. It must be because you couldn’t witness that without gagging.

“See? We’re doing so well,” he hums proudly, and you fully intend to give him a genuine smile back. You really do. That is until you see the customer he’s handing the cup to. He frowns a little at the way your face falls and your lack of reaction. Before he can say anything, though, the girl squeals: “You’re the one who can read the future, right?”

It honestly looks like she’s meeting an idol. To be fair, Jeonghan has all the predispositions to be one and has the professionalism to match. You’d think the flustered but excited smile he gives the girl is genuine if you didn’t know any better. He always gives them conspicuous smiles like his role is a secret between the two of them. Like he feels seen by them. You sigh, your smile purely professional while you hand the glass to the other customer and simply motion towards the straws and sugar packets. And then you rush to work on the next drink.

Jeonghan breaks character for just a second to give you an apologetic smile - which you pointedly ignore. You’re too busy. Just one scan of the growing line and pool of waiting customers is enough to tell you Jeonghan won’t be helping you any time soon.

And eventually, any time soon turns into well after rush hour, with the most dedicated - and delusional - fans forming a line of their own just to get the most useless fortune reading of their lines. 

It’s honestly admirable in its own way that he acts with the same dedication with all of them, no matter how many there are. Right now though, you finally get to sit down and can’t be bothered to try and think anything good about him. You feel abandoned. Betrayed.

You know you’re the one being dramatic now, but you can’t help it. Your social battery is drained. 

You didn’t even get to go on lunch break - you couldn’t leave the other newcomer, Chan, there alone. No way he could handle both taking and making the orders. He hasn’t even been properly trained for that yet. And it feels like Jeonghan slacked off the whole time. Honestly you had no idea how this could be profitable for the owner but hey, it’s her business and not yours.

You’re still sulking when you finally take off the apron and your work shoes. Even walking to the station and walking home doesn’t seem appealing right now, but you really need a nap. And a nice warm meal. Still, you can’t find the energy or will to pack your stuff, so you’re just zoning out for a couple minutes. Which turns out to be a mistake.

The door flies open to reveal a disheveled Jeonghan. His hair is a mess, like he’s been the one getting through the rush. Once he sees you, however, he breathes out seemingly in relief and smoothes down his birdnest of a hair with his free hand. In the other he’s holding a cup of something iced. 

“I thought I didn’t make it,” he smiles at you, carefully coming closer. You heave a long and exhausted sigh.

“Leaving all the work to the others again?” you say, and although you try to sound unbothered, there’s a bitter edge to your voice. He frowns a little, turning his head towards the door for a second.

“I made sure no one was there when I left,” he shifts his weight, “And I just wanted to bring you this. As a thank you and a sorry.”

He offers you the cup in his hand and you take it. Or you’d like to before he steps a little closer and his eyes fill with that mischief you’re so used to seeing during his interactions with the customers.

Not this again…

“If you look here,” his finger draws a swirl above the transparent lid, “See how it looks like those curls want to tie together? A clear sign someone’s trying to court you. And they must be close.”

While he explains, Jeonghan keeps his eyes on the coffee but once he’s finished he looks at you. His gaze is so hopeful, so so hopeful, and you remember it working on you the first couple tries. It gets old after a while, though.

“Yeah, thanks for the coffee,” you shut down his efforts and take the cup from him, “For what it’s worth, I’d prefer for someone to have my back when it’s busy.”

“I’m sorry,” Jeonghan blurts out. He frowns again when he sees how resigned you look, licking his lips uncertainly. “I’m sorry I made you do all the work. I didn’t mean to.”

“Yeah, I bet you didn’t. Like you didn’t mean to on Monday, or last week, or literally any other day we were short on people,” you roll your eyes. Finally you get the motivation to take your things from the locker and leave. 

“Arguably, the cafe being short staffed is the issue here,” he says almost sheepishly - and visibly regrets it the moment you scoff and set the coffee down to cross your arms on your chest. “What?”

“‘Being short staffed is the problem’ yeah - yeah you can argue that and lose the fucking argument because we only need the extra person because you’re no fucking help,” you snap at him, throwing your bag over your shoulder and slamming the locker shut after hurriedly throwing things in. Jeonghan opens and closes his mouth, the corners of his mouth downturned and eyes wide. “Goodbye Jeonghan. See you Friday.”

You push past him and leave, waving at the poor cashier left stuck here with him. 

Jeonghan looks after you until the door closes and the loud noise makes him jump. He looks at the cup left behind, dripping water on the bench. He groans, sitting down with his head in his hands. He rubs his face, knowing he shouldn’t linger here. You might be gone, but his chest feels tight anyway. Now more than ever, like he’s just proving you right by wasting his time here where he is of no help to anyone.

He picks up the cup sadly and takes a small sip. It’s the best one he made, it shouldn’t go to waste. It’s just the way you like it, your favorite he thinks, yet it doesn’t make him feel any better or like you’re still here with him. 

When he returns to the front, a customer has just finished ordering - an older man, and Jeonghan immediately proceeds to prepare the order. His mind is blank but his heart feels heavy. You didn’t even taste the drink…

“Did you seriously just disappear to the back to drink your coffee?” Chan whisper-yells at him after he hands the order to the customer. Jeonghan is about to argue but then he realizes how pathetic he’d sound and just laughs.

“Eyy, I returned just in time, didn’t I?” he bumps his hip against the newbie’s. 

“Dude, you’re just flirting the whole day. Me and y/n did all the hard work, do you really think you’re the one who deserves a coffee break?” his coworker sighs and takes a rag to wipe down the counter. His smile falls immediately and suddenly it’s hard to swallow.

Way to go, Yoon Jeonghan…

Although you don’t work with Jeonghan again until today, you can’t say you feel any better. It’s not like you hate the job - actually you quite like it. The pay’s decent, the boss is fine for the most part, and your coworkers are all nice people too. At the same time you’d lie if you said you wouldn’t rather stay home and sleep and that your stomach doesn’t feel uncomfortably nauseated just thinking of another shift with Jeonghan. Your only hope is that it’s Friday and those usually aren’t as busy in the area. And it’s your last shift for the week. You can do this.

You wash your face and pray. There’s not much else you can do.

The least you can do is to use your limited control over the situation to take the last possible bus so that you make it in time. So you do. Every minute of peace counts. And although it does make you anxious to imagine being late, it’s not like you come late regularly - you never did, actually. So not a big deal. Maybe it’d show Jeonghan what it feels like to be all on his own.

For a while longer, you let the world fade into the background with music blasting in your headphones. It’s easier to ignore people if you can’t hear them. You push it, only giving Chan and Joshua behind the counter a friendly wave to greet them while you pass them. 

You push it further, opening the door to the staff room. You keep the music on until the last moment, until you open your locker and pull out your shoes and stuff your things in, and then you have no choice but to turn the music off and return to reality.

The first sound to reach your ears is annoying high-pitched whining complemented by a fluff of blond hair buzzing around you.

“You’re so mean,” Jeonghan complains, “Are you ignoring everyone today or just me?”

The temptation to just keep your mouth shut is so strong but you never learn. You still have hope that today will be better. And then you’ll need to get along with him. You’re closing the place together too…

Luck seems to be on your side for now, however, and lets you keep him waiting without any need for an excuse.

“My condolences, y/n. He’s so annoying today - he kept bugging us at the front before you came,” your savior, Joshua, declares right as he comes in and heads for his locker.

“Hey-”

“Are you leaving Chan there alone?” you quirk a brow at the newcomer while you change your shoes and throw on a fresh apron. It’s mostly just an excuse to ignore Jeonghan for a bit longer. But also it’s not like Joshua to skirt his duties.

“He can handle himself for five minutes,” he shrugs, “He’s a quick learner and it’s basically empty.”

You hum and snicker, “So was Vernon and you know how that went.”

Joshua shakes his head with a laugh while Jeonghan, very much cosplaying a fluffy and persistent bee, hovers closer to you at the edge of your vision.

This is a conversation he could join in but he doesn’t want to join in on a conversation you have with Joshua - he wants to talk to you! Alone! 

“Aren’t you supposed to be clocking out?” Jeonghan snorts in the direction of the other man. Joshua smirks, leaning against the lockers.

“Aren’t you supposed to be clocking in? I bet there’s already a line waiting for you,” the other never backs down from whatever Jeonghan throws his way. It’s impressive. It’s what he likes about the guy. It’s a challenge and he enjoys one. Even now, he’d bite back - oh, he would. But from the corner of his eyes he can see how your face falls just a little.

“Well, they can all wait because first, I’m gonna do a very exclusive reading for our dear y/n here,” he can’t let you see him weak and he can’t lose, and by changing the direction, he’s definitely not-

“Nah, thanks, I’d rather Shua does it,” you smile at the other man.

Now it’s turn for Jeonghan’s face to fall. Not like you will notice.

(It feels like a dagger to the back. The boss had this big idea of having more people on rotation for those readings, and with his acting skills and similarly mischievous personality as well as good looks, Joshua was the obvious choice. Jeonghan poured his heart into teaching him. Their back and forths were on another level, Joshua truly was the perfect student and the only one who could possibly match Jeonghan’s skill. Unfortunately, Joshua is also fucking crazy and his readings were anything but the wholesome, uplifting messages meant to comfort and heal that Jeonghan is trying to hand out. So in the end, Jeonghan alone is the chosen one.)

Joshua laughs back, throwing out a casual “anytime” that makes Jeonghan gag.

“y/n,” he whines, propping his chin on your shoulder - and he knows it’s just the surprise that stops you from immediately shrugging him off but whatever - “But he’ll just tell you you’re gonna grow a third eye or something. I’ll give you the truth.”

“If I had a third eye, I’d be able to see when we’ll get busy so I can, I don’t know, slip and break my leg and go home,” you roll your eyes and now you shrug him off and he pursues his lips more. 

Is it really that bad?

“We’d miss you here, you’re one of the good ones,” Joshua smirks at you and checks his watch, “Time to go! Good luck, both of you.”

Jeonghan hears you grumble something along the lines of ‘like he needs it’ way too clearly. He lets you walk in front of him, so he can sigh without you noticing. Joshua pats his shoulder while he passes him and gives him a kind smile. He hates how easy it is to like the guy.

Fortunately the cafe remains virtually empty when you come out, so you greet Chan again but with a genuine smile for a change. He seems to notice and beams at you too.

“Shua said you did well today,” you hum, trying to warm up to the newest addition to the team. Safe for the dude who’s still sick and you haven’t seen before. You don’t even remember his name.

“You know Shua, he’s just kind,” Chan dismisses, but there’s a happy sparkle in his eyes. One that is very much missing in Jeonghan’s - a fact which goes unnoticed.

He goes through the motions of cleaning the counter even though it’s sparkling clean. He refills the beans even though the container is full. He checks the labels and everything is in order…

“What’s up with him?” the cashier nods towards him. You shrug.

To be fair, Jeonghan works hard. Usually he’s pretty cheerful too, but now he’s just a lifeless husk and you wonder if it has anything to do with you basically ignoring him. Maybe you were too harsh on him when he was just being friendly.

“Anything needs a refill? Do we need anything from the back?” you slide closer to the man in question and take the rag from his hands. He looks surprised but before you can even blink, he’s smiling at you and smirking mischievously.

“Are you hinting I should go get it myself? That’s so mean,” he grumbles. He’s giving you a very convincing kicked puppy look but it’s not like there’s anything he needs to convince you about. Safe for his competency maybe, but that would take much more than him acting cute.

“I’d do it myself. This is just me giving you a chance to pull your stuff out.”

He grimaces a little, as if he forgot about it. Still he thanks you quietly. This one you can’t blame on him; it was just another of your boss’ bright ideas.   

‘Jeonghan’s stuff’ is really just a cloth, a nice deep shade of purple with golden embroidery of sun and moon and some more astrological motives that he spreads out on the area of the counter where he does the readings. It’s also an assortment of crystal candy handmade by Minghao.

(Minghao is only a part-timer and has the least hours of all of you, and occasionally you somehow go the whole month without seeing him once. You wonder if it has anything to do with the time he needs to make the candies.

They don’t match the cafe’s vibe - they look too luxurious, especially next to the plain looking macarons, roll cakes, cookies and other goodies - but they do fit Jeonghan’s vibe.

They’re delicious too, so you hope that whatever is Minghao’s contract doesn’t change. Although he could give out employee discounts.)

Anyway, Jeonghan’s corner isn’t much, and thank god it’s not flashy, but it’s a little extra something for whenever Jeonghan’s working. You usually notice some of his groupies peeking in through the front window to check if his stuff is out. It’s also a good way to tell if the day will be a good one or not if he’s in.

“Found something we need from the back?” Jeonghan joins you right as you’re finished going through the supplies.

“No, I think we’re good. Shua usually leaves everything ready for the next shift anyway,” you hum, double checking the dates on everything just to be sure. Not that you expect to find anything amiss.

“You’re so nice to him.” You roll your eyes at him before you can stop yourself, which Jeonghan takes a personal offense to. “I always do my best too!”

“Yeah, but Shua is just more reliable,” you shrug. Unswayed by his sulking, you keep working around Jeonghan, who follows you while listing all the nice things he’s ever done for you. You catch Chan watching you from the side and laughing. 

“If you have nothing better to do-”

Just as you’re about to find a task to give to the youngest, the doorbell rings and in walks a pair of friends. Their giggling and badly hushed squeals tell you everything you need to know.

“Better get in the character,” you say, already giving up, and move on to the cake display and check the temperature. The display cooler is new, but after the fiasco that was the last one you want to make sure.

“What do you mean by character?” he puts a hand over his chest. He’s already acting, though. “I just have powers nobody can explain.”

You scoff, almost bumping into him while he keeps shuffling on the floor. He’s just doing it to get on your nerves at this point.

“What the hell?” you hiss at him quietly.

He looks at you for real. The look in his eyes is close to desperate when his gaze flicks towards the girls and then back to you, standing conveniently between them and him. You only laugh a little. It’s ridiculous how dramatic he’s being, and you wonder why he has to be this eccentric all the time.

“Not ‘hell’, they’re powers from a higher good! And I wasn’t kidding yesterday,” he remains serious - whatever his version of serious is anyway, “There’s someone really close to you who’s interested in you.”

You don’t really want to indulge his delusions but since he’s still behaving like a child seeing his least favorite relative and the girls are taking ages ordering, you decide just once won’t hurt.

“Yeah? Tell me more,” you say simply.

At this point he’s basically cornered against the counter and the girls keep looking your way. There’s very few options left how he could cower from them. He seems more focused on you, however, delight written all over his face.

“Literally so close that when you realize you’ll feel so stupid you’ll want to bang your head against a wall.”

“Already do,” you sigh.

You might say that but there’s something charming about the way Jeonghan tenderly holds onto your sleeve, the way his head isn’t buried in your shoulder but you feel his every breath on your skin anyway. He’s careful not to press himself against you and you appreciate that, even though you’re long since you used to people being squeezed together behind the counter on the busier days. His current position makes your work much harder nonetheless. Though you suppose you’re just making yourself look busy at this point.

Not that you’re not grateful to Joshua, but damn, couldn’t he leave at least something for you to do without customers around?

“Yeah? Any guesses who could be your secret admirer?” Jeonghan whispers. The girls are paying already and you have no idea what he's hoping to accomplish. They’ve seen him already when they walked in and they see him now.

Fortunately they sprint over before the silence after his question gets long enough that it’d demand you to answer.

Like somebody flipped a switch in Jeonghan’s brain, he springs us from behind you and greets the girls at his corner, asking them for just a moment to let him work his magic.

You join Chan in Jeonghan-watching while he works after he sends you away to prepare the order himself. Not that unusual, although you’d like to have something to do so that the shift passes quickly. It always pleases the fans, though, and this time too it doesn’t fail to make them swoon over his long fingers, his tongue flicking out to wet his pretty lips, or the bow tied on the small of his back that looks so cute and accentuates his slim waist. It’s always this way. You think you learned what they’re into quite well. And it’s not difficult to see. 

You’re just more used to it now.

“Do you think my training could include some one-on-one with him?” Chan whispers to you, “I mean I have no problem getting a date if I want to-”

“You must be really against dating right now then,” you can’t resist teasing him. You have no idea if he’s dating or not, but you suppose if he wants Jeonghan’s help of all people, he must be desperate. Then you remember he’s just a newbie. He doesn’t know him well yet.

“Hey!” he punches your shoulder lightly, “It’s just- He’s on another level, okay?”

“I guess,” you murmur, “But he’s still as single as us, so he must be a loser beyond getting a number.”

“You think so?” he tilts his head, “Makes sense.”

“Yeah, so you just do you.”

Fridays tend to be slower, what with most of the students from the nearby university preferring a club to a small cafe by the time the end of the week rolls around, but it’s just as well. At least you get to show Chan how to do things properly whenever a learning opportunity comes around and for once it’s Jeonghan who has his hands full with work. So much so that both you and the cashier help - at least when all the customers are waiting to get their coffee and reading.

There’s not much you can do to actually help, but whenever you slide the plated desserts on the counter, ready to be matched with the coffee, prepare the boxes for the takeout orders, or you hand him a cup only waiting for him to mess up the milk, he gives you a grateful smile. You think that when your fingers brush occasionally, he might be doing it on purpose - occasionally here being an understatement, but it doesn’t happen all the time either. Whatever, you suppose that’s his own way of saying thanks. 

Slowly, though, even that crowd starts to thin out. 

Back when he used to work here, Seungkwan would always say that seeing Jeonghan and getting a cake were both a sweet treat for the students coming here on Friday evening. 

You wonder if they’d think of him as sweet if they were forced to work with him and deal with his whining.

It’s not that you want to entertain his quirks when you let him rest his head on your shoulder after the place empties. It’s just for now. And when you pet his hair whenever he sighs deeply, you’re just being a supportive coworker. It’s just that he really did work hard.

Jeonghan’s other shenanigans and the shit he puts whoever is unlucky enough to be on the shift with him through make it easy to forget the effort he puts into what he does. All the talking, making stuff up on the spot, the creativity that requires. You don’t think you could ever match that - especially with your social battery being as faulty as it is. And whenever he can, he insists on preparing the orders entirely by himself - and whenever he abandons you to the rest of the orders, even this is a big help. He never really complains either, his sighs and whining are mostly for attention.

Perhaps you’re too harsh on him sometimes. He doesn’t have it easy, just the same as you. 

“We’re almost done,” you pet his hair one more time and wave goodbye to Chan. For the remaining two hours, it’s gonna be just you and Jeonghan. The man on your shoulder doesn’t bother to lift his head and blindly waves as well.

You look around the cafe, empty safe for a single man at the table in the corner. He looks like he’ll be leaving soon too. It’s a relief, especially after the catastrophe that was your last shift together.

It’s been a while since you last closed with Jeonghan, however, so you can only hope that in the little time you have left he won’t do anything that would sour today’s experience. 

“If we start now, we’ll be finished sooner,” you whisper to him, and finally he raises his head. Over the couple months you learned that nothing motivates him quite like the prospect of going home soon. At least one thing you have in common.

“Do you want to do the clean up here?” Jeonghan suggests, but his tone couldn’t be more hopeful that you’ll say no. You huff and shake your head.

“It’s fine, I’ll just do the lobby and help you out when I’m done,” you grant his wish. Truthfully you don’t really care either way. And at least on lobby duty you get to have some space and walk around.

He thanks you cutely, promising another free reading just for you - which you immediately decline, but you know better than to expect him not to go through with it.

The time you have left passes in a breeze. Barely anyone comes in and when they do, they usually take their coffee to go. Stars really must have aligned for you today. Thus you get to wipe down the tables and the counter, clean the bathroom and sweep the floor before it’s officially closing time. You’re so excited by how lucky you’ve gotten that you don’t mind Jeonghan’s victorious smirk when you automatically take over some of his tasks once the clock strikes the closing time. After all it doesn’t matter that he gets to go home sooner when it’s a win for you too.

Once again you’re amazed by how smoothly you work with him. It’s an effortless flow without the need for words. Sure, the tasks you’re capable of doing on autopilot, but whenever you help out the others, it’s never this simple. 

“Thank you,” Jeonghan smiles at you once everything is done and you join him at the back after checking again that you haven’t forgotten anything. 

“Don’t mention it,” you return the smile and stretch your arms above your head, closing your eyes in bliss. You can’t wait to be home.

“No, I will - I promised, didn’t I?”

You don’t like his tone. You really really really don’t like his tone. Allowing your arms to go limp, you let them hang beside your body. Your eyes stay closed.

“Come on, it’s nothing bad,” his voice softens. Maybe you get why he’s so popular. Or maybe it’s late and you’re tired.

When you open your eyes, there’s a small cup of ice latte being held out to you. You frown but he just chuckles. “I kept it in the fridge.”

“And I was wondering why you were acting so weird,” you sigh but you take the cup - or try to, only he doesn’t let go. “Not again.”

“If you look here,” he dismisses your protests. His fingers are cold against yours. “That line and this line are almost one, see? Your secret admirer is closer than before. You should take your chance.” 

You try not to smile but you do anyway, tired and resigned to your fate. “Anything more?”

“Yeah, actually if you follow this… You’re not listening, are you?” Jeonghan pouts when he realizes that you’re not looking at the coffee at all. He holds your gaze.

“Thank you, I really appreciate this,” you finally manage to slip the cup from his hand. You immediately take a long sip, you need something to get you through the way home. It’s good, great, but that’s no surprise. He might not be trained in latte art, but he makes good coffee.

“What are you going to do about your admirer though?” he wiggles his eyebrows at you. You give him a long look and note the discrepancy in his body language and his voice. He sounds playful, the upward curl of his lips give off that feeling too, but he seems tense otherwise. His eyes seem nervous. The late hour must be getting to him too.

“Wait,” you shrug, then elaborate when he gives you a confused stare, “I’m not into this kind of game, Jeonghan. If someone likes me, they shouldn’t be hiding it.”

He looks caught off guard, his mouth hanging open slightly.

“That is - if there was a secret admirer. I’m not buying your nonsense,” you push his shoulders and turn to your locker with a satisfied smile to take your things and stuff the rest in. Finally you silenced the great charlatan Yoon.

“Hey, my predictions always come true,” he bounces back quickly, “The customers tell me all the time.”

“You literally tell them the most generic shit,” you roll your eyes, shutting your locker, “Look, it was really nice today, so let’s not fight.”

He opens his mouth with, displeasure tugging at his lips. There’s a moment of tense silence before he eventually settles on a short dramatic monologue about never being taken seriously by close minded people like you. You watch him while you sip the coffee and check your watch. There’s enough time before your bus comes and now that your last shift of the week is over, you feel relaxed enough not to mind his company.

You make sure to lock up the place and have Jeonghan check that it’s actually locked. Just to be sure, despite the teasing that follows. There’s no malice in his voice, if anything he looks fond and nudges you with his elbow, reassuring you that he only finds it cute.

Sipping on the coffee while you walk, you enjoy how peaceful the night is. The street is empty, safe for the two of you, but you know it’s not gonna be that way once you reach the main road. For now, though, you actually feel quite comfortable chatting with Jeonghan. He's good company when he’s not infuriating.

“So anyway, I won them the whole game,” Jeonghan finishes boasting about his recent outing with Joshua and the new guy you have yet to meet - apparently he’s called Jun and is hopeless at basketball.

“Sure you did,” you snicker. Just to see him whine and try to persuade you he’s not lying. Although unexpectedly you have to admit that seeing him act out some complicated moves without the ball is both amusing and strangely impressive. He never striked you as someone as athletic as he seems to be. 

“Alright, alright, I believe you. Don’t hurt yourself, you’re working the weekend, aren’t you?” you laugh, holding him by the elbow to stop him from more demonstrations. 

“Yeah, jealous hm?” he frees his arm from your hold and throws it around your shoulders. You scoff and shrug him off. 

“Not really, the older I get the more I value my free time over money,” you push him away when he moves too close again. He just laughs at the annoyed glare you give him.

“You know I think your secret admirer is tied to the cafe, so maybe you should come in. Make sure there’s someone to grow old with you,” he hums thoughtfully, but the look in his eyes lets you know he actually means the suggestion.

“No thanks, I’ll be happy not to see the place for a few days,” you wave him off. The ice clashes together as you shake the almost empty cup. Just in time. The main street is already in sight and with it, the bus stop too. Only a few minutes now and you’ll be on your way home, spacing out with your music. “Also you’re more obsessed with this idea of a secret admirer than me. Maybe you should confront one of yours.”

“What do you mean?” he stops walking suddenly. You stop too, your brows furrow on their own. He looks the most serious you’ve ever seen him. Actually serious.

“Your army of fans, duh,” you shrug, keeping your tone playful to hopefully lighten the atmosphere, “I bet every single one of them is in love with you. They’re not exactly discreet.”

He puts his hands on his hips and takes a deep breath, then exhales just as slowly. If it wasn’t him, if you didn’t know him as well as you think you know him, you’d be scared. Even so you watch him warily.

“I don’t care about them,” he says plainly, “It’s fun for the job, but I don’t care about anything beyond that.”

You swallow uneasily, watching him stare at you with an unreadable expression.

“I was just kidding. I’m sorry,” you apologize. He must notice how uncomfortable you feel because he runs a hand through his hair and gives you a small smile.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he catches up with you, “I just take my magic very seriously.”

You burst out. You’ve had people call latte art magic. Never the fuck ups. At least Jeonghan seems relieved to see you laugh too and you can continue the walk comfortably again.

For someone who spent the day making shit up, he has enough inspiration to keep going. By the time you reach the stop and the bus comes into view, you have tears in your eyes as Jeonghan keeps exaggerating and telling you, very seriously, about the inner workings of his magic and deals he had to make with different deities to acquire his powers.

He only shuts up when the bus stops in front of you and the doors open.

“Thank you for today, Jeonghan,” you babble through fits of laughter, “It was great.”

“Thank you too,” he smiles gingerly, “And don’t laugh at me. Or you’ll make some powerful enemies.”

“I don’t doubt that,” you shake your head, “Bye now.”

“Bye.”

You get on the bus and take a seat by the window. Jeonghan doesn’t move from his spot, you see him get smaller and smaller as the vehicle takes off. 

Despite the coffee, you feel tired. Tired but happy, you realize. You wipe your eyes and chuckle. If only every shift could be like this.

You keep grinning even as you put on your headphones and start the music. The glass is cold against your forehead and you hope it’ll keep you from falling asleep. Although you suppose it wouldn’t be so bad now that you feel this content.

The weekend passes by way too quickly. The bed remains unmade and the couch remains a messy nest of blankets and pillows, although that’s hardly surprising seeing as that’s where you spend most of the time. Some chores got done, some didn’t, but you tell yourself that’s fine. You’ll just do them before or after work, it’d be pointless to waste your completely free days on things like that. Starting on Monday sounds better than starting on Sunday night.

Some part of you feels guilty about not being more productive, but when you lay down in bed, you realize that you hold no tension in your shoulders and you remind yourself you’re not a machine. You need to rest too. Chores will wait. Being productive will wait. What needs to be done isn’t going anywhere - the time you get to spend on your hobbies is.

You settle in bed and set up the alarm for tomorrow. You don’t work until afternoon and you’re going to bed early, but you’d rather be safe than sorry.

Staring at the ceiling, you don’t think you’re gonna fall asleep any time soon, but that just can’t be helped. Just closing your eyes should provide some rest, and who knows, maybe your body will surprise you.

It’s hard to keep track of time with your eyes closed and your mind racing. You’ve already thought of six sick burns that you wish you had ready when you needed them, you’ve won two philosophical debates, and you were about to invent a life changing knick-knack if only your phone didn’t light up and didn’t alert you to a new text message.

You consider ignoring it. Nobody really texts you, so it’s most likely just some spam or they got the wrong number.

But then it rings again.

And again.

You pick up the phone and squint at the screen.

The messages keep going.

[rezwrites]

hi! could u do a rio x f!reader enemies to lovers? maybe a detective au? and maybe smut if ur comfortable with it

Of course!

Warnings: 18+MDNI TW: very minor mention of murder/suicide cases, cursing, office sex, risky sex, mutual fingering

Eyes flickering between the case file and your computer you typed fervently, shrill rings of the office phones outside your door and the clacking of your keyboard filled the silence of your mind as you worked away. This case was pretty simple this time around, thankfully.

“Knock knock,” her silvery voice invaded your senses. Immediate irritation painted your face as you looked up to see Rio leaning against your doorframe, a small box in her hands.

You’ve dealt with years of her atrocious arrogance. You wanted to knock her down a few pegs whenever she oversaw your cases and barked orders at you, as if you didn’t know how to do your own job. Most interactions the two of you always ended in an argument. It has simmered down recently, but she still gets under your skin.

“Oh no.” you stood up, rounding your desk, “This case isn’t anywhere near FBI jurisdiction. What are you doing here?”

“Your chief asked me personally to work this case with you. Something about you do better when I’m around.” Rio’s lips ticked up.

Clenching your jaw, you narrowed your eyes at her, “The case is over. I just finished the crime scene report and sent it over to the lawyer for the trial.”

“I’m only kidding.” She pushed herself off of the doorframe, “I just came by to see you and to give you these.” She held out the box of cookies, subconsciously fiddling with the side of the ribbon wrapped around the box.

This was the fourth time this month she came by with food. You turned her away every time, despite how good the desserts looked. You had to acknowledge her dedication, the tiredness in her features showing you that she did indeed put effort into these treats. Guilt started to gnaw at you now that you think about it, but you steeled yourself before she saw you waver.

You glanced down at the cookies then at her, “definitely poisoned.” Taking the box and tossing it on your desk, you crossed your arms turning back to Rio, leaning back on your desk.

“They aren’t. I stayed up late to make them.” She frowned, picking up the box shoving it into your arms, “Just eat one.”

“Why do you want me to eat your food so insistently?” You gripped the side of the box, slightly denting it.

“Because I want to know what you like.” Rio stared intensely into your eyes, it was a little unnerving. It was like her sepia orbs were searching for something. You could see the dark circles under her eyes from the lack of sleep.

Reigning yourself in, you straightened yourself out , “I like… telling you to get the fuck out my office.”

There’s small twinge of pain in your chest when she sighs defeatedly, shoulders slumped as she walked out your office without so much as a witty comeback. Some part of you hoped she’d come back, guilt building the longer she didn’t. The rest of the day passed unusually quiet, the cookies left on the edge of your desk taunting you.

Stepping into your home quite late you were greeted by, Jupiter, weaving himself through your legs, meowing shrilly as he leads you to his bowl to fill. Putting his food up after filling his bowl, exhaustion hit you like a truck. Deciding to skip dinner you grabbed the box of cookies you had haphazardly tossed on the kitchen table, making your way to your bedroom.

The shower made your body heavy with tiredness, finally ready to stop fighting it you slipped into bed. Jupiter jumped up snuggling his small, orange body into your side. Flipping open the box lid, you hesitate picking up a cookie. Eventually, you took a bite savoring the way it was soft and chewy as it melted in your mouth.

After a few cookies your fingers slid over a slip of paper at the bottom of the box. Picking up and flipping over the bright pink note, the words in large black ink.

Delicious, right? ;)

Your face heated up, crumping the note in your fist tossing it back in the box. Shoving the box to the edge of the bed, you turned everything off and went to sleep.

—

Looking at the evidence board you're wracking your brain. It seems to be a simple murder-suicide but something in your gut says otherwise and the evidence to support your hunch isn’t there.

“Ugh, great. Feds are here. Again.” Your coworker grunted out. It seems you weren’t the only one aggravated when FBI got involved. Looking over your shoulder you see your chief escorting Rio into the meeting room. Chief explained that the case now falls to the FBI due to the victims being part of an international theft ring.

That same coworker started going on a rant, shocking everyone, including Rio. Fussing about getting cases taken away. He even had the nerve to insinuate that Rio had connections to higher-ups since she was always being the one to take cases.

For all your issues with Rio you could never deny that she knows what she’s doing and that she handles herself well on the field. You have to admit that you have learned a few skills from her throughout the years. All her decorations and medals are deserved. You’d be damned if someone that doesn’t know her at all slander her hard work.

You sat there seething until you couldn’t take it anymore. Slamming your palms on the table, everyone turning their heads to you as you stared this worm of a man down, “Enough! I completely understand the frustrations but we don’t have the resources nor manpower like they do. They are way more equipped to deal with criminals like these than we are. In the end we should be thankful the FBI is here. The only reason she gets these cases is because she’s great at doing her job. If you think your tough shit then go out there and try to do it yourself rather than sitting on your ass and complaining!”

The chiefs booming voice silences the whole room before anyone else could start mouthing off. He commanded everyone to go blow off steam, specifically instructing you to hand Rio all the files, evidence and reports.

Relief washed over you once you entered your quiet office, the soft click of the door closing behind Rio. Taking a deep sigh, you began to calm down compiling everything case-related into a manila folder.

“You just defended me?” Rio stood there stunned, breaking the silence.

“I’m the only one who gets to be an ass to you.” You retorted quickly, a bite still evident in your tone.

“Aww, when did kitty get rid of her claws?” She teased, stepping towards you. Glancing over her shoulders you checked to make sure the blinds to your office windows were closed.

“Ugh, five minutes. Shut up for five minutes.” You exasperated.

A smirk grew in on her face, “I think I can find a way to occupy myself. Besides he did say to let off steam.” You watched as her eyes darted between your lips and eyes. Rio hovered in front of you, her warm breath fanning over your face. You leaned up initiating a gentle kiss. She cupped your face deepening the kiss, passionately. Breaths heaving as your fists twisted in her blazer, pulling her closer. Her hands fell to your side thumbs tracing patterns, sliding her thigh between your legs.

“I hate you,” you rasped out in between kisses, “I want to hate you.”

“I don’t want you to hate me. I never did.” she pulled back.

“Can I?” Her fingertips stopped at the edge of the waistband of your slacks, her other hand on the small of your back keeping you upright. Eyes glossing over your face for any reaction.

“Yes.” You breathed out , “may I return the favor?”

“‘F course.”

Her hand slipped into your pants fingers ghosting over your sensitive bud, hips jerking for more pressure. Undoing her belt you’re sure she felt the same as her breaths stuttered when your fingers grazed her clit, drawing light circles.

“Already so wet from kissing?” Rio lightly mocked, running her fingers over your slick slit. As her fingers eased into you a low groan escaped you.

“Hush. You have no room to tease.” Your palm pushed against her as a digit slowly sunk into her own wetness making it easy. She could bury her face in the crook of your neck all she wants, but you still feel the vibrations as she moaned when you added another finger.

Wrapping your legs around the back of her knees, you tried to keep your noises at a minimum as her fingers pumped in and out of your fluttering walls. Your movements faltered minimally before returning with fervor, both of your palms rubbing each others clits.

“I got you.” Whispering in her ear when you felt her knees quiver, curling your free arm around her. Her soft lips return to yours, nipping at your lower lip.

Curling your fingers into her warm depths, hitting the spongy spot her body started to shake. Holding onto her tighter you worked her through her orgasm, as she kissed you harder muffling herself, you swallowed her moans eagerly.

Releasing herself from your lips to breathe you bit her shoulder to fight your screams, as white hot pleasure crashed through you. Rio curled her fingers, an extra shock coursing through your body. Both of your shaky bodies stilled, coming down from your highs. Removing yourselves from each other you grabbed some tissues to clean up, your facing heating up when you turned back around to see her sucking your wetness off of her fingers.

“You ate the cookies, right?” Lifting your head to see her proudly smiling, “I may have added a love potion.”

“Stop,” you laughed, lightly pushing her shoulder, tucking her shirt back into her pants. Rio chuckled pecking your lips, smoothing your shirt.

“Let me take you on a lunch date.” Rio suggested starting to move over to grab the file. You grabbed her arm not wanting to leave your proximity yet, “Rio I-”

She looked at you quizzically as your words died out. You wanted to tell her how you felt, no doubt she felt the same after what just transpired but you still somewhat felt it wasn’t the right time.

“I love you too.” your eyes widened, a smile growing on both your faces,” Now let’s go get lunch.”

[sixpennydame]

Part Two: The Clinch

Pairing: Boxer!Choso Kamo x Fem!Reader [Jujutsu Kaisen]

Word count: 5.8k

You decide to trust Choso and he commits to helping you. But it might be more than either of you bargained for.

Author's notes: Like the Jujutsu Kaisen world, this story is set in Japan, and there is mention of yen as currency and yakuza as organized crime groups. Thank you to my beloved @littlerequiem for beta reading.

Series content/warnings: No curses AU, bare knuckle boxing, violence (in the boxing ring and out), mentions of blood and broken bones, eventual smut

Chapter content/warnings: EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT. Unprotected sex (wrap it up irl, everyone), oral sex (fem receiving), light biting, soft couple intercourse, gambling, yakuza

Part 1 / Part 3 / Series Masterlist

AO3 | Playlist

There’s rarely been a time in Choso’s life when a physical connection didn’t involve pain. 

A mother who was practically unknown to him.

A father who was as verbally manipulative as he was physically abusive.

A boxing coach whose view of encouragement was a wooden sword across Choso’s back.

The only exceptions were his three younger brothers. They’d always been his one, loving constant.

When they were little, he remembers play-wrestling with them in the house, always letting them win. Their skinny, gangly arms pinning him down, Choso laughing uncontrollably when they’d dog pile him. 

All those years, they’d only had each other to depend on.

He knew sending them to boarding school was for the best, but it didn’t make the choice any  easier. The day Choso saw them off at the train station, he pulled them into the tightest, longest hugs. 

After that, his life changed. It was lonely without his brothers, so Choso began to focus his time and attention on fighting, training, and eventually, on his matches at night. He lived as frugally as he could so he could send the money he earned to the three younger siblings so far away. How long had it been since he’d seen them? Would they even recognize him now?

Some days, Choso felt more like a machine than a man: going through the motions of his day, beating up others and getting beaten upon. But when his skin would break and the blood would flow, it made him feel alive. Sure, it was a shitty way to live, but he accepted it as his own.

And then, everything changed when he walked into your office.

Your touch was so soft that night, so gentle—when you held his head, checking for signs of concussion. 

He felt his heart race every time you pulled him close to check on his wound, or looked into his eyes and asked how he was feeling.

And when his lips finally met yours for that kiss, Choso thought he had to be dreaming. He waited for you to push him away or slap his face; but instead, you returned his kiss with the same fervor, opening your mouth, and inviting his tongue to mingle with yours, a faint taste of blood from the cut on your lip.

He practically ran down the hall after his fight, hoping to find you waiting for him. 

(You were.) 

It felt like a risk to reach his hand out to you. Would you trust him, let him protect you?

Your hand in his was all the answer he needed as you both walked to your apartment. 

On the street, the two of you now pass by anonymous faces, the night still young for those searching for a vice. Choso is alert and on edge, still coming down from that rush of adrenaline he gets when he fights, but also from the possibility that the blue-haired freak might have decided to follow you. 

“I don’t live far from here, just around this corner.”

It’s the only thing you’ve said to him since you left your office, but he can almost see the wheels in your head turning, trying to make sense of all this. Choso was trying to understand too: why he was so drawn to you, why he couldn’t get you out of his head, no matter how hard he tried.

 (But let’s face it, he hadn’t really tried that hard). 

Sure, there was so much he still didn’t know about you, but he could feel you opening up to him, little by little. You seemed so strong but delicate, serious and sad. Besides his brothers, he’d never cared much for anyone else, but now…

….All that was starting to change.

A card key beeps and the door to a dingy brick building clicks open. You let go of his hand as you start walking up a narrow, stuffy stairwell, the sound of your shoes scraping against the concrete. When you get to the third floor, you turn and walk down a dimly-lit hallway. 

Keys jingle, the door creaks open, and you take three steps inside, but Choso stays just outside the doorway.

You’re home safe, like he wanted, and it’s late. He should say goodnight, walk down those stairs, and head back to his place. 

But then you turn to him.

”You wanna come in?”

His body suddenly won’t move.

”Just for a moment?” you add.

“Y-yeah,” he says, crossing the threshold tentatively, as if you might change your mind at any minute. 

It’s a small, one-room apartment, with a bed in one corner and a cafe table in the other. The space is neat and tidy, but bare of any personal touches: no pictures of friends hanging on the refrigerator, no trinkets or knick knacks. There’s nothing that connects you to anyone or anything, as if you are just passing through.

”You want a beer?” you ask as you walk over to the refrigerator.  

“Sure.”

You hand him the can and he sits at your table while you situate yourself on the bed across from him. 

You’re not quite sure why you invited him in; all you know is that you didn’t want him to leave just yet. You’d been debating on what you’d do when you got to your place, and now he’s here, drinking his beer, with eyes keenly focused on you. You take a drink as silence fills the room until Choso says your name, softly.

”What’s going on? Why did that man hit you?” 

You hesitate. “It’s a long story.” 

“I figured that.”

“When I tell you, you’ll think differently of me.”

“Why don’t you let me decide that for myself.”

When you shift uncomfortably, Choso closes the gap between you and sits on the bed. He places a hand on your thigh.

“You can trust me.”

How long had it been since you’d actually trusted someone’s word? Perhaps it was finally time to open up to someone, and Choso seemed willing to listen without judgment. The burden had been heavy for so long.

“My father is a gambler,” you start, your eyes cast down and your hands folded in your lap, picking nervously at your nails. “But not just casually. It’s a compulsion for him. Been that way ever since I was young. He was constantly selling things in the house to pay his debts and sometimes, he’d be gone for days at a time. My mother and I often wondered if he’d ever come back; if the loan sharks he’d borrowed money from had finally come to collect.”

A complicated family life. Choso could understand that. 

“I left the house as soon as I could and went to university to become a doctor. I promised myself I’d leave my nightmare of a family behind and only rely on myself. But turns out, that’s easier said than done.”

You swallow, thinking of how to phrase the rest of your story. “I was in the first year of my doctor’s residency when my father showed up at my apartment. He said he owed ‘some bad people’ millions of yen in unpaid loans. Of course he didn’t have the money, so he came to me.”

“Your father expected you to pay off all that debt for him?” Choso interrupted.

You shake your head. “He knew I didn’t have the money on me, but since I worked at the hospital, I had access to drugs –  strong painkillers that could be sold on the black market. He begged me, said they were gonna kill him if he didn’t start paying them. I saw the fear in his eyes – I knew what he was saying was true. And yeah, he was a shitty father, but I couldn’t just let him be killed. His life weighed on my conscience. So I agreed to help him. I started stealing drugs from the hospital and giving them to the organization that was threatening my father.”

“You started working for the yakuza?”

You shift uncomfortably. “Yes.”

“Instead of just making your father sell it?”

“I couldn’t trust him with that kind of thing. If I was going to do this, then I was going to deal with the group directly. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I told myself that it was for a good reason. That surely after this, he’d change his ways. For a while, I actually thought it was all gonna work out.”

“But…” Choso can feel the climax of this story.

“But the hospital found out. They wanted to keep it quiet and avoid any bad press, so they silently let me go. I should consider myself lucky, I guess, but it’ll be impossible for me to be a licensed doctor now.”

“And that’s why you’re working at the arena?”

“I had nowhere else to go and still had so much money to pay off. The organization runs this arena - What else could I do?” 

Choso can see tears starting to form in the corners of your eyes, but you quickly wipe them away.

It surprises you, how much you’ve allowed yourself to say to this man you’ve only known for a week. Long-guarded family secrets seem to flow faster than you’d realized was possible and hearing it out loud makes you feel even worse.

“I’ve resented my father for so long, but in the end, I’m just like him. Just some worthless piece of shit.”

“That’s not true.”

Choso’s large hand moves from your thigh to your hand, squeezing it gently. “You did what you thought you needed to do. You were put in an impossible situation. But we are not our fathers.”

“We?” you say, a puzzled look on your face.

Choso blinks, looking down. “My father is a terrible person. He was manipulative and abusive to my mother, me, and my brothers, although I took most of the physical blows. I remember just lying in my bed and wanting to kill him. And then he just…disappeared, and left me and my brothers to fend for ourselves.”

Choso struggles to continue, and so you give his hand a squeeze.

“I try to be a good brother, and a good man, but there’s this anger, deep inside me. And I’m scared that I might become just like him. Like it’s some kind of curse.”

He turns to look at you. “But I know I have to be better, for the sake of my brothers. I’ve made a lot of mistakes because I had no one to guide me; but I’m not gonna let that happen to them. That’s what keeps me going.”

That large hand now suddenly feels hot and sweaty in yours. Choso sighs.

“There’s just one thing.”

At that, your brow furrows. “What’s that?”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since you stitched me up that night. It’s starting to become a bit of a problem.” His words make you chuckle. “Seriously, I thought I was gonna have to get beaten up every fight to ever get near you again.” 

Choso feels your hand squeeze his again, just a bit. You look up at him with your sad eyes and he can’t help but move closer. 

“You have no idea what you do to me..” he confesses.

Then he says your name in that low voice you’ve come to yearn for. 

“Choso…you don’t know what you’re saying. I’m no good for you.”

“Good…bad…I don’t care about any of that.” His body is now shifted even closer. “All I know is I want you. All of you. The good and the bad.”

The words you want to say to him hang just on the tip of your tongue:

I feel the same.

I want you, Choso.

But you’ve never been good with words. They’re too permanent, too binding. They create promises no one can ever keep.

Instead, you busy your lips by pressing them against his. You don’t notice his eyes going wide, as if he wasn’t expecting this to really happen. But it doesn’t take long for him to pull you closer, meeting your anxious kiss with his own determined energy.

Perhaps a little too determined, as the eagerness of his kisses press too hard on the cut on your lower lip. You suck in a breath and pull back, noticing that the wound has reopened.

Choso immediately cups your cheek. “I’m so sorry! Did I hurt you?” 

“No, no, it’s fine. Just a bit tender.”

Choso stands up, takes your hand, and leads you to your bathroom. Closet-sized, the two of you barely fit, but Choso doesn’t seem to notice as he immediately grabs a washrag and wets it.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“Taking care of you, for a change. Now keep still.”

He gently and deliberately dabs the washcloth on your swollen lip. His brow is furrowed and his eyes serious, and it gives you this flutter in your heart; a heart that for so long has known only the sting of pain, loss, and disappointment. Suddenly there’s a desire within you to experience more of this new feeling.

You place your hand on top of his and pull it away from your lip, then lightly kiss the corner of his mouth. One kiss is followed by another, then you start moving down his jaw to his neck - slow, sensuous kisses that make his breath hitch. Lips parted, your tongue draws in the salty taste of his skin, and as you move further down, you feel the beating of his pulse.

Choso can barely contain himself. His hands move under your shirt, cupping your breasts over your bra. When he hears your hum of approval, he pulls the shirt up and over your head.

His eyes rove over your collarbone and bare chest, where skin meets the cotton of your bralette. It’s now his lips exploring your neck and chest as he pushes you against the sink. You try to adjust, but the space is too cramped, so you pull away from him.

Choso’s face contorts in concern. “Did I hurt you again?”

But you’ve completely forgotten about your injured lip as you push him out of the bathroom and toward your bed. Getting the gist, he moves backwards, bumping into the table and chairs as he pulls off his sweatshirt, then t-shirt, and finally his pants.

It’s clumsy and awkward, but both of you smile between kisses as you grope and pull at the other’s clothing. You even laugh a little when Choso stubs his toe on the edge of your bed as he unhooks your bra. 

It’s as if the heaviness of the night has been lifted away and all that’s left is the dark-haired man before you. Choso. He stands over you now in only his underwear, his chiseled chest and abs marked with scars and bruises. Black hair leads lower down, disappearing beneath the waistband of his underwear, his growing arousal evident.

He looks over you as you lay on the bed with his shy smile, only to be replaced by something more serious.

The small bed creaks as he positions himself over you. 

“Is this ok?”

“More than ok,” you reply, attempting to keep calm but unable to hide the nervousness in your voice. Your very core is screaming to be consumed by this man, but this feeling of desire is so new and unknown. To be so vulnerable with someone - physically and emotionally - is territory you’ve rarely explored, if ever.

His dark eyes seem to look through any walls you’ve built up around yourself. You look away to avert his gaze, your cheeks burning.

“…it’s just…it’s been a while and I…”

Choso can’t help but smile. He cages you in with his arms and moves close to your ear.

“I told you, I’m taking care of you tonight. Will you let me do that?” he asks, before his lips start moving down your neck, then your chest. The trail of kisses make it to your breasts, his tongue flicking one nipple while his fingers pinch the other. Your eyes meet and you nod.

“Yes…” you breathlessly reply.

With that answer you see a change in him: a spark in his eyes that wasn’t there before. It makes your heart pound even faster. 

His mouth moves even further down, stopping just as he reaches your core. By now your whole body is shaking in expectation and desire. 

Choso doesn’t contain the growl that escapes his mouth when he pulls down your underwear. He has to taste you, to feel your heat, but he also wants to take it slow, to make sure you’re completely satisfied. 

So instead of diving between your legs, he lifts one up, resting it on his shoulder before kissing along your calf. When he reaches your inner thighs, the light kisses turn to biting and sucking, which elicits a moan from your lips. Choso stops and smirks against your soft flesh.

“You like that, huh? I’ll remember that.”

Choso has never been one for studying or books, but he knows how to read people and the subtle tells their eyes and body give. Years of fighting in and out of the boxing ring taught him that when facing an opponent for the first time, you have to test out the waters - find their weak and strong points, and what gives you the better advantage.

He’s not in the ring right now, and you’re not his opponent, but he is studying your body, taking note of every twitch, listening to every sigh and moan. By the time he’s made it to your upper thigh, leaving kiss marks along the way, your breath has sped up and the leg hitched on his shoulder is pulling him closer to his intended goal.

“Choso, please…”

It doesn’t take a genius to know what you want.

And so he moves to your center, starting with a gentle lick at your folds. You’re so wet and you taste so good, it compels him to keep going, his tongue moving around your clit, your moans getting louder. Each moment you get wetter and wetter, and he’s lapping it all up like a man dying of thirst. When your hands grip his hair and your hips start bucking into his mouth, he knows you’re close.

Hell, he’s about to cum just from your moans alone. He begins to rut his hips against the bed, to temporarily appease his aching cock.

Because no matter what he wants right now, it’s your pleasure that comes first tonight.

It’s been a while since you’ve been sexually intimate with anyone, but you can’t remember anyone ever eating you out this good. The way he moves against your swollen clit has you seeing stars, and you find yourself moaning his name, begging for more before he finally plunges his tongue deep inside you. Your hips now move of their own accord, desperate to reach that sweet orgasm that you know he can give you. 

When it finally comes, you can barely think straight. A warmth from deep within your core begins to radiate through your whole body, making your legs tremble. You buck against his mouth one final time before you finally release the grip you have on his dark locks. 

“Shit,” is all you can manage to say at the moment.

Choso sits up on his haunches, a smirk on his face as he sees you blissed out beneath him. His hands on your quivering thighs, he rubs them up and down, reveling in the softness of your skin. Your body spread out before him like this, he’s never seen a more beautiful sight in his entire life. 

“I’m not finished yet,” he says as he pushes his underwear down, his hard cock springing free. Precum drips down his hand as he grips his girth and pumps once, then twice, before leaning over to align with your center. He searches your face for any objection; when he sees none, he pushes in.

Choso isn’t religious, but he swears he sees god in that moment. Your warm, wet walls envelop him so fully that he has to take a moment just to be able to think straight. 

“Ah…you’re…so…tight…”

He says each word with a thrust, each one deeper and harder than the next. Eventually, your body adjusts to his size and he moves faster, his abs flexing with the movement. Sweat from his chest drops down on your stomach as he pushes even deeper.

“Choso!” You cry out as your arms pull him against you. Again and again he buries his cock in you with an intense, steady rhythm. 

“Mmmm….you feel so good…” 

Choso takes both your legs and hitches them over his shoulders and as he pushes in, you cry out. His cock is deep now, hitting that place inside you that makes you arch your back in ecstasy. 

“Don’t stop…” you plead.

“I won’t…” he answers, “…I can’t…”

He lifts you up to sitting and you both look at each other, breathless and sweat-drenched, his black hair sticking to his neck and forehead. Neither of you seem to be able to form coherent words, so instead, you press your foreheads together. The brief pause allows you to catch your breath and in that moment you have a realization:

The stream of negative thoughts that constantly bombard your brain have stopped. Years of having to rely on yourself had forced you to always be thinking two or three steps ahead, but right now, there’s only this moment with Choso. You take a deep breath and even the air in your lungs feels different. 

He leans back slightly and you begin to move your hips, riding his cock as the two of you grind against each other. It’s all too much and not enough - his body as it moves with yours, his staggered breaths. You never want it to end.

Then you feel that tell-tale flutter building up inside you as your second orgasm releases in a spectacular climax; the sensation has you holding onto his neck as if your life depended on it.

When Choso feels you clenching around his cock, it takes everything within him not to cum right at that moment. He barely lays you back down before he pulls out, his warm seed releasing onto your stomach.

You’re shaking, holding onto him just as tightly as you were moments before.

“Choso…Choso…” you whisper his name in the dark.

“I’m here…” is his quiet reply, “…I’m not going anywhere.”

—— 

The two of you lie on your bed, exhausted and completely spent. You stare up at the ceiling and he does the same, both expectantly waiting on the other to say or do something. 

Choso breaks the silence first.

“Use me,” he says.

“What?”

“Make wagers on my fights. Let’s beat them at their own game.”

You’re quiet, contemplative. Surely he’s joking.

When you make no reply, he continues to press the issue. “I’ll win for you. Every time.”

”You can’t guarantee that,” you counter.

”Yes, I can.” 

You sit up in bed and gather the sheets around you, your back facing him. 

“I’m not going to pull you into my shit. It’s my burden to bear.”

There’s a shifting and you can feel him directly behind you. 

“I figured you’d say that. But I’m winning, regardless. You might as well make money off of it.”

Your mind weighs all the possibilities that this could go wrong. What if he doesn’t win and you get deeper in debt? What if the organization finds out you’ve partnered with him?” 

But at this point, what other choices did you have? 

There’s a warm, strong hand on your bare shoulder.

“You can trust me,” he says, his voice resolute.

There’s that word again. Trust. But trust takes time, and you barely know him. It’s a gamble, in every sense of the word; a gamble you’re not sure you should take.

 As you turn to face him you can see that he’s already looking at you expectantly. 

“I can tell you how much to wager based on who I’m fighting. This can work.”

Your father had always said that a gamble always takes a little bit of faith. Perhaps it’s time to test that theory. And from the look in Choso’s eyes, you can tell that he’s not giving up on this idea any time soon.

“Ok. Let’s try it,” you concede, before he pulls you back down and into his arms.

——

The following day you walk to the bookie’s office alone. You both knew it would be too risky going together, so he prepped you on what to say.

“My next fight is in a week against a man named Naoya Zenin,” he instructed. “You can earn more by placing a bet on exactly when I can bring him down, so wager that it’ll be a knock out in the third round.”

Choso spends the rest of the week training in the evenings while you work at the clinic; but in that dark time between night and morning, when you take care of  the last injured fighter and lock your office door, there he is, waiting for you without fail. You walk past one of the custodians who is sweeping away scraps of betting tickets that litter the floor, while another is mopping blood off the ring. When you finally make it outside you see him standing, soldier-like, just outside the entrance.

He insists on walking you home every night. “For your safety,” he says, “Just to make sure no one is following you.” But the two of you barely make it through the door before you’re both pulling off each other’s clothes and fucking on your tiny bed, or against the kitchen counter, or over the table. 

It feels good, being fucked senseless by this man you barely know, letting all your cares and worries wash away with each climax he gives you. You’re certain he feels the same way just by the way he acts around you: protective and gentle, as if you’re the most precious thing in the world. 

But you know it can’t last;  It is a transactional relationship, after all, a means to an end. You and he are both getting something out of this that the other needs, and that’s all there is to it. 

By the end of the week, the muscles in your thighs and ass are aching and you wonder if Choso’s body is just as sore from the sexual exploits. Probably not - he is an athlete in peak physical condition, after all.

He tapes up his hands as you busy yourself in your clinic. The week passed more quickly than you thought it would, and now, it’s time to see if Choso’s plan will actually work.

“Are you going to watch the fight?” he asks as he finishes wrapping his hands.

“I wasn’t planning to.”

“Why not?” He walks over to caress your cheek. “Are you worried I’ll get hurt?”

“No,” you reply curtly, turning away from him in an attempt to avoid his gaze. “I’ll just be busy with the fighters before you.”

”Yeah, yeah.” He chuckles as he wraps his arms around you. “Just admit you’re concerned about me.”

You want to melt into his arms, like you do every night, but your nerves are on edge. You’d wagered over half your savings on this fight, and putting this amount of trust in someone else’s abilities was something you were still getting used to. 

(Choso’s welfare was also heavy on your mind, but you weren’t about to tell him that.)

“I’m just concerned about my money, is all.”

“Both me and your money will be coming back to you safe and sound,” he assures, putting his head on your shoulder, “Just listen for the third round bell.”

When he leaves your office, you don’t look back.

There’s a heavy stream of injured fighters into your office that night, just as you thought there would be, but through the stitching and wrapping, you hear the first round bell ring for Choso’s fight.

He’ll be fine, you tell yourself. 

But as the second round starts, you’re rushing to the arena.

It looks like Naoya Zenin was able to get some hits in on Choso - a punch to his cheek and a hit to the ribs - but from the bruising on his forearms and biceps, it seems that Choso has been able to deflect most of his opponent’s attacks. Zenin, on the other hand, has a swollen eye and cheek, which you know must be messing with his depth perception. The young man barrels towards Choso, putting his arms around his chest. 

“What’s he doing?” You don’t realize that you’ve asked this out loud.

An old man with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth answers. “Zenin is using a clinch against Choso, trying to slow down the action and keep him from punching. It’s a desperate move on his part.”

Zenin holds on tightly to Choso until a referee shows to break it up. Almost immediately after that, the bell rings for the end of the round.

Both fighters go to their respective corners while a bikini-clad woman walks across the ring to announce the third round.  When the bells ring again, Choso is already up and making his way toward his opponent’s corner. He punches Zenin hard in the nose and the young man stumbles back, but before he can gain composure, Choso hits him with an uppercut that brings him to the ground.

“Winner!” The referee says, taking Choso by the arm and raising it high in the air. 

A knockout in the third round, just as he’d said.

That night, after bandaging Choso’s ribs and icing his cheek, you both go to collect your first winnings.

It’s now a set routine: every week or two, you place a bet in Choso’s favor and every week he takes down another opponent. Sometimes he’s covered in blood just like he was the first time you met him; other times, it’s only a few bruises. But no matter what condition he’s in, he always comes home with you. In fact, he’s practically moved in at this point. His clothes are nestled in your chest of drawers and his toothbrush is right next to yours. It’s a strange kind of domesticity neither of you expected.

Week after week goes by, and by the third month, Choso is still undefeated. His fights are now the headliners of every match night, and wager rates soar in his favor. You still refuse to watch the fights, but you can hear the crowd cheer his name as every opponent meets the same end.

”Blood thirsty.”  “Relentless.” 

That’s what they call him.

It’s hard for you to believe they’re referring to the same man who stays with you every night; that the strong hands that just brought a man close to death are now gently cupping your breasts, or positioning your hips on top of him. He loved it when you took control and rode his face or his cock, and was always eager to please you.

You keep telling yourself that it’s the sex that always brings him back to your place every night, or that keeps him fighting for you, but when those deep, dark eyes look into yours, you know it’s more than that.

And something changes  in your heart as well; you feel empty when he’s away, or when he can’t come home with you right after a fight. Your stomach drops when an opponent gets a good hit in. 

Perhaps this isn’t  transactional for you anymore.

——

The next night, as another night of fights comes to an end, you hear the door to your office open.

“I’m closing up,” you say as you put away your instruments.

“Just here for your monthly payment,” the blue-haired man called Mahito says, leaning against the entrance to your clinic.

With a sigh, you reach up into your cabinet, take out a small bag, and throw it at his feet.

“Here you go. Now get out.”

”Tsk tsk, all these months and you still treat me so coldly. We should be friends by now.” He opens up the bag to see the bills stashed neatly inside. “Wow, another big payment. Miss Doctor. You certainly are lucky these days. Did a rich aunt die or something?” 

“You’re getting your money aren’t you? That’s all you should care about.”

Mahito smiles a toothy grin that makes your skin crawl. “But you’re also our precious employee. I’d hate to hear that you’ve gotten into more trouble.” He slinks towards you and you move backwards, hitting the edge of an examination table. He picks up a piece of your hair and lets his fingers move through it. “Maybe you’re becoming just like your father, huh?”

“Get away from her.”

Choso stands at the entrance, hands in fists and bracing to attack.

Like a child that’s suddenly interested in a new toy, Mahito turns from you and walks towards your lover. “Ha! Like a dog to a whistle! Just the person I wanted to see. Walk with me, Choso.”

The two men walk down the hall and amongst the crowd exiting the arena for the night. Of all the men that Choso has fought these past months, he’s never wanted to beat someone to a pulp more than the man next to him. Mahito is slight of build with wide, child-like expressions, but one look in his eyes and Choso knows that this bastard has killed others just for the enjoyment of it. He’d love to smash that smug face in.

“What do you want?” Choso asks coldly.

“I have a proposition for you. One that could solve all of Miss Doctor’s problems.” 

Mahito stops to see if Choso will react. When he doesn’t, he continues. “We want to set up a fight. A big one.” Mahito’s eyes glance towards the man walking beside him. “With you and Ryomen Sukuna.”

That stops Choso in his tracks. “Sukuna’s out of prison?”

“He is indeed. Seems that they couldn’t get that manslaughter conviction to stick because of some kind of legal error.” Mahito smirks devilishly. “And he’s ready for a comeback. What do you say?”

“What does this have to do with her?”

“Oh come on…you think we don’t know that you’ve been helping her place bets on your fights?” He laughs and it makes Choso’s skin crawl. “I must admit, it is rather romantic, and it’s made your popularity soar these past few months. But it’s time for both of you to remember who you really work for.”

Now outside, Mahito takes out a cigarette, lights it, and takes a long drag as if he has all the time in the world. Choso just wants this conversation to be over with.

“Do this fight, and Miss Doctor can consider her father’s debts paid in full, with our thanks.”

Choso’s instincts tell him there’s more to this plan. “What’s the catch?”

A sinister smile crawls across Mahito’s face. 

“You have to lose.”

Part 1 / Part 3 / Series Masterlist

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[such-expensive-mistakes]

Superpham AU (part 6)

Masterpost

Lois prides herself at being good at rolling with the unexpected. Unfortunately, all of her experience with aliens and supervillains and magic has not prepared her for Danny.

Danny has a disconcerting habit of dropping disturbing or traumatizing information in an off-hand way, seeming to not even realize the implications of his own words. It started with what he said about the dimension he'd grown up in discriminating against people with powers, then with what he'd said about the red son and the lack of superheroes, but it just keeps happening.

Lois tries not to call attention to it, because she prefers it to the alternative, which is Danny shutting himself up in his room and refusing to talk to any of them.

Lex Luthor is on the nightly news-- as he so often is-- and Lois has to explain the man's many crimes to Danny. (No, Jon, it is not a rant.)

"Oh," Danny says. "He sounds like Vlad."

"Vlad?" Lois asks.

"Yeah, Vlad Masters. He's my godfather. He's a total fruitloop who wanted to marry my mom and make me his son."

Lois carefully does not react. She wants Danny to tell her things. She wants to know what his life was like when she wasn't in it. "That sounds..."

"Yeah, he tried to clone me. Well, I guess he succeeded, but none of them were stable except for Ellie, and she wasn't really that stable to begin with."

"Ellie?"

"Yeah, short for Danielle. She went by Dani-with-an-I for a while, but she decided she wanted her own name."

That is not the part Lois was looking for clarification on. She goes with it anyway. "Tell me about her," Lois says, and tries not to be concerned about Danny’s descriptions of a teenage girl who apparently lives and travels on her own because she doesn't like to be stuck in one place. Ellie doesn't even get the full benefit of being quarter Kryptonian, living in a world with a red sun.

The four of them are sitting down to dinner-- pizza again; one of them should probably cook sometime this week, but Lois and Clark are both on deadlines-- when Clark asks Danny more about his adoptive family, the ones he grew up with.

He looks sad, the way he always does whenever his adoptive parents come up.   Lois can hardly blame him, when he lost them in such a sudden and traumatic way.  

"They're scientists," Danny says.  "Or they were.  They studied, um, the Ghost Zone and the things that live there.  They didn't really understand it at first-- they thought all the-- um, everything from there was evil and needed to be killed, but they learned they were wrong eventually."

Lois meets Clark's eyes and knows he is as concerned about what happened before that 'eventually' as she is.  Still, neither of them comment, not wanting Danny to clam up again..

Jon, however, has no such reservations.  "That's really messed up."

Danny shrugs.  "Yeah, kind of.  They came around, though.  And I think they blamed themselves for how bad the GIW got because they were the ones who designed the weapons."

"The GIW?" Lois asks, instead of what she really wants to know, which is: Your adoptive parents designed weapons to be used against beings from another dimension??? Did they know what you were? 

"Guys in White," Danny says.  "I don't think that was their real name, but they were from the government."

"Your parents built weapons for them?" Clark asks, his tone deceptively light.  "I thought they were scientists."

"They dabbled in a lot of things.  But they were fantastic engineers."  Danny segues into a story about some of the modifications his adoptive parents made to their car, which is a topic only slightly better for Lois's heart.

Later that night, Lois is sitting in bed, checking her emails on her phone, when Clark sits down next to her and turns on the white noise machine they keep on the nightstand.  (It's the only way to have private conversations when your child-- children-- have super-hearing.)

"I'm concerned about Danny," he says.

"No shit."  The more Danny tells them about the dimension he grew up in, the more Lois hates it.  "But there's nothing we can do now except be there for him."

"I know people who have traveled across dimensions, you know," Clark says.  "I could always ask for a favor."

"You won't," Lois says.  "Because if you do, I'm going to end up committing felonies in another dimension."  

Clark smiles humorlessly. "What makes you think I wouldn't be there with you?"

"Because you're a better person than I am."  Clark never believes her when she says that, but it's true.  Clark is a fundamentally good person.  Lois tries to be a good person, but there's a reason she's not a superhero.  

-----

Kon intended to stop by Metropolis several days ago.  Or at least call Clark back.  But he’d gotten sidetracked by an earthquake in Southeast Asia, and then by Dr Light causing problems in California.  

He gets a few hours of sleep back in Smallville, then remembers that he’d planned on dropping by Metropolis and meeting Danny days before.  He walks the last few blocks to Lois and Clark’s house— flying would be way too noticeable in their neighborhood— and lets himself in.  He walks up to the living room and spots Lois there, furiously typing on her laptop.  

Kon is man enough to admit, at least within his own head, that Lois kind of intimidates him. Sure, Clark is physically stronger, but there’s an intensity to Lois that Clark lacks.  She glances up at Kon, and even though she’s smiling, he still feels pinned under her gaze.  

Kon shifts uncomfortably, reminds himself that unless he turns into a corrupt businessman or something, he’s not actually in danger from Lois Lane.  

“You here to see Danny?” she asks.

“Yeah.”  Kon shoves his hands in his jacket pockets.  “I figured I should probably meet him.”

“He’s in his room,” Lois says.  “He’s not… It’s not a good day, but maybe he’ll talk to you.  He hasn’t exactly gotten the chance to be around anyone his own age since he showed up.”

Kon knocks on the door to Danny’s room.  

“Come in,” a voice calls from inside.

Kon’s first thought is that he looks more like Clark than Danny does.  Stupid; of course he does.  He’s Clark’s clone.  But then, Jon resembles Clark almost as strongly as Kon does, so maybe it wasn’t a completely stupid thought.

Danny is sprawled on his stomach across his bed, phone in his hand.  There’s a video playing on it— someone talking about the history of the Justice League— but he’s ignoring it, watching Kon with a wary expression.  The room is still as bland as it ever was; other than the clothes tossed haphazardly on the floor, there’s no sign a teenage boy lives here.

“I’m guessing you’re Kon?” 

“That’s me.”  They stare at each other awkwardly for a moment.  

“Have you actually seen any of Metropolis, or have you just been hanging out in here?” Kon asks.

“Lois took me shopping for some stuff,” Danny says.

“Okay, no,” Kon says.  “You have got to get out of this house.”  

“You don’t even live in Metropolis,” Danny says.  

Kon shrugs. “Doesn’t matter; I’ve spent more time here than you.” There’s an old-school arcade he’s been to a handful of times, and a couple of places to eat.  Anything has got to be better than Danny hanging out and brooding in this sad bedroom by himself.

It's a warm day outside.  The sun shines down on the two of them as they walk in near-silence toward downtown.  The awkward silence doesn't quite break until they're at the arcade, competing on an old racing game.  

"I don't think we have this one in my dimension.  The other dimension.  Whatever."  Danny says.

"Yeah?"  Kon speeds ahead of Danny in the game, just in time to cross the finish line.  Danny groans.

"Yeah, but this world doesn't seem to have Doomed, either," Danny says as they start another race.  "There's a lot of little differences like that."

"That's gotta be weird," Kon says.  

"Yeah, Clark kind of freaked out when I told him the sun there was red."

Yeah, Kon can see why.  They talk more as they play more video games, and Danny tells Kon about his friends and what they'd do when they were hanging out in his hometown of Amity Park.  The main people he talks about are his best friends, Sam and Tucker, and his older sister, Jazz, but he mentions a few others.  

"Wait, who is Ellie again?" Kon asks, after Danny shares a story about a prank she pulled on another kid at Danny's school.  They've left the arcade, and are hanging out at the diner a few blocks away.  It's not the coolest place-- in fact, it looks like a grandmother decorated it-- but Clark introduced Kon to it, and it has great food.

"Oh, I didn't tell you?" Danny asks.  "She's my clone."

Kon chokes a little on his soda.  "You have a clone?"

-----

Danny is probably being paranoid.

Scratch that, he's definitely being paranoid. Lois and Clark have been nothing but nice, and they're clearly used to weird things happening. Like, even aside from the whole alien superhero thing, Lois just saw a kid fall out of a portal and decided to help?  Plus, Clark is an actual superhero.  

Even his— the Fentons came around on the whole “ghost powers” thing.  Eventually.  But he’s gotten used to hiding, to trying to blend in.  

(And what had them accepting him done for them in the end?  They’re dead, the GIW killed them.)

He’d rather hide than suddenly discover that Lois and Clark aren’t cool with their long-lost son being half dead.

Some of his powers he can pass off as Kryptonian— super strength, flight, enhanced senses.  He knows Lois saw his ghost form, and though she hasn’t asked about it, he’s pretty sure it’s just a matter of time.  

These thoughts circle through his mind over and over, only leaving him temporarily when he’s hanging out with the Lane-Kents.  

His bio family.  

That’s not much better, though; there’s a sadness in Lois and Clark’s eyes whenever they look at him, although they try to hide it.  Jon just a kid, and clearly doesn’t know what to make of the whole situation.  Lois keeps saying they are going to introduce him to more people, especially people his own age, but Danny shies away from that.  He doesn’t want to meet more people.  He doesn’t want to get comfortable here.

Still, he’s glad he came out with Kon.  An afternoon of videogames and greasy food hasn’t solved any of his problems, but it’s a nice break, and Kon has already promised to introduce Danny to his friends— a whole team of teenage superheroes.

“I can’t get over how many heroes there are here,” Danny says.  “Like, why do you even need that many?”  Sure, it would have been nice to have some more backup when he was Phantom, but in this world there seems to be at least one superhero for every major city, plus some extra.

Kon shrugs. “Natural disasters, alien invasions, supervillains, street crime… No one can handle all of it.”

Out of all the things he’s encountered so far in this dimension, this might be Danny’s favorite.  Even more than the proven existence of aliens.  Back home, Amity Park needed Phantom, even if they hated him.  But the world here doesn’t need Phantom.  

It’s kind of freeing, and Danny hates it.  He doesn’t want to like anything about this dimension more than his own.  

Would it really be that bad?  You might be stuck here forever, a little voice inside his head whispers.  

He ignores it.

[writingwisterias]

Day 6: Mutual Masturbation

RE2! Leon Kennedy x AFAB! Reader Warnings: SMUT, MDNI, Masturbation, Phone Sex, No Outbreak AU, Roommates, Friends - Lovers Masterlist

His work had been rough since he started at the police department he never really had time to just breathe and chill out. His apartment listing was cancelled before he showed up, so he ended up having to find a new one quickly with his jeep filled with his belongings. You were nice enough, the place was clean and you allowed him to get settled even making him a small lunch every day leaving a note claiming you made ‘too much’. He was glad he chose here to live, that his life gravitated towards you. However, as the two of you grew to know each other the more comfortable you got around each other. It now wasn’t uncommon to return home often finding Leon walking through the house in just a towel, water dripping down his chest as he smiled at you. You always tried to hide the growing blush that you are surprised didn’t turn into a permanent feature on your face. 

Leon slumped against his bed, his uniform discarded throughout the house like a trail to find him. He was so sick of the immature teenage boys who decided doing crimes was fun; having to spend most of the patrol finding and apprehending them. Today was just one thing after the other. He would pick up his clothes eventually, but he looked down at his cock. It had been a while since he used his hand to give himself some release, often doing it after a particularly hard exam during college to help loosen his body and the more he thought about it, the more it seemed tempting. He remembered vaguely you talking about taking a trip out of town, you had sent him a few texts in your absence making sure he was okay and just general chatter. You were currently his only friend after all, but your absence meant he could do this without the fear of you walking in. Or hearing the noises that left his lips as he brought himself to a finish.  

He worked quickly to strip himself off, his cock already hardening in just excitement of being touched. Normally he would have prepped himself more, spitting in his hand or using some cheap lube he purchased to help ease his movements but today his intention was speed. He worked slowly, squeezing the base a few times watching it harden further the more he touched it. His tip making an appearance and leaking pre cum already. He began to imagine what your touch would feel like, embarrassment creeping in as he followed the thought process. You didn’t deserve his dirty thoughts and imagination as he touched himself to you.

His phone vibrated on the nightstand, “Fuck sake” he grumbled as he shot his hand out attempting to find the device. He answered it with a grumble, his tone frustrated and short before he even looked at that caller ID. “Someone’s grumpy today” Your voice chimed in. Leon’s eyes widened his other hand dropping his cock quickly as his fuzzy brain tried to find the words to respond. “It-uh- been a rough day,” He said. Your chuckle was so sweet as he heard it through the speaker, his cock jumping at the sound. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if he continued to touch himself as you rambled about your day. His thumb toyed with his tip, spreading the pre cum around making it shine in the dim light of his bedroom as he listened to you ramble. 

He tried to mute his noises, hiding his face against the crook of his arm and biting it in desperation to keep quiet. “Leon, are you sure you are okay? You haven’t said much today, and you sound distracted…I can call you later” You said, your voice changed to a softer tone almost sympathetic. “No no it's fine - just - fuck” He moaned. Your eyes widened in shock at the phone as you listened to him, the mysterious wet noises that you could hear in the background of the call suddenly had a purpose. “Leon- are you..?” You asked him, and the sentence was left unfinished for him to connect the dots. His whimper was first, the sound causing your pussy to throb. “Shit- sorry - I…just” He stumbled on his words, the embarrassment of getting caught flooding his system as he looked at the caller ID. “It’s okay” 

The words shocked him, it wasn’t okay. He shouldn’t have answered the call whilst he was preoccupied he should have ignored it and answered when he was finished. “It’s not…I was just stressed at work and you always make it better. I’ll call you back “ he stumbled out, his hand now so far away from his weeping cock. “NO- wait Leon.. don’t hang up” You suddenly called out. His eyes widened in shock at the desperation of your tone. He waited for you to explain yourself, he heard rapid shuffling on the other side of the as you moved around. You coughed nervously as you settled into place. “Leon…can-can you describe what you were doing, please? W-what were you thinking about?” you asked, your breathing hitched as you touched yourself.

Maybe it’s because you couldn’t see him whilst you doing this that was making you so bold. “I-I was thinking about you” he spoke bluntly. You whimpered at his words, the sound making his hand return to his cock as he pumped it slowly. “I never thought you would..what was I doing?” 

The conversation felt scandalous as he balanced the phone against his collarbone, trying to think of a response. You whimpers were heard through the phone as you spread your lips, your fingers getting coated in your cum as it spilt out of you. “Leon?” You questioned. He cursed himself for taking too long to reply, your voice sounded scared like you had read the situation wrong and you should have just hung up the phone. “Your pretty hands were around my cock, they were so good as they touched me” he whimpered. You imagined his puffy cheeks all flushed red, his plump lips parted slightly as he let out these perfect noises. Your fingers began to circle your clit just like Leon’s rubbed his tip. 

The both of you let out loud groans, the cheap phones cutting out as the sounds became more frequent. Neither of you spoke, focusing on the sounds you both as you worked hard to bring each other closer. “Leon-are you close?” You panted. The coil tightened the closer you got, desperate for release but eager to wait for him. “I-I am, sweetheart.” he groaned. You nodded, not that he could see it, as your fingers picked up their pace. Circling faster and flicking over that one spot which made your lower half go fuzzy. “Let me hear you, please, as you cum” he begged.

He must have shifted, his voice clearer on the phone as he asked you. You whined filled the room as they crackled through his speaker, your moan following as your orgasm shattered through you. Leon moaned as his balls tightened, the vein in his cock throbbing as he began to decorate his chest with his load. “Fucking hell” he groaned as he chilled out. Your chest heaved with every breath as your body finally relaxed against your hotel bed. “Same time tomorrow?” you chirped. Leon chuckled, the sound deep and coarse as he calmed down. “Sure thing, sweetheart. Can’t wait until you come home now” he teased. You smiled at the ceiling, glad that instead of ruining what the two of you had - you made something new out of it. 

“I’ll look forward to my greeting”

Taglist: @kasueli @luvrgreyy @michellekmsh @miss0giarra @cinnabunnysavvy @redollface @my-loved-figure-skates @drawboo22 @luvlouiee @moth-quasar @nyxxoxo @misswynters

[the-lavender-clown]

MORE COWBOY AU STUFF BECAUSE I’M OBSESSED!!! The au I’ve made with some friends is called Fool’s Gold! I may or may not write some fics for it 👀

Here’s an infodump on it if anyone is interested!!

Raph is tired sheriff who sighs at every newspaper & new wanted poster showing off his blue and purple brothers as well as Donnie’s partner in crime but a he can’t help but be a little proud because he knows their doing good, just in their own special & questionable way.

Mikey is a nomad that travels around & sells self-woven clothes and blankets as well as hand carved & painted trinkets or whatever else he’s made. He treats weary travelers to home cooked meals & tales & legends of four brothers! He’s also the only brother not *constantly* making trouble for Raph.

Leo is a lone hero. Going town to town & over throwing whatever greedy mayor/banker/outlaw has that town in its clutches. He’s able to masterfully manipulate whoever he’s dealing with & using his many resources to gather important information. He ties them up to a post for the sheriff’s convenience when he comes by the town to pick them up.

Donnie & Cass are bounty hunters/mercenaries. They used to chase each other for their bounties & because Cass was a part of the Foot before the brothers took them down & Donnie just so happens to often be the closest to her trail once she popped up again. After awhile of constantly failing to catch each other they started thinking of each other as *their* targets & everyone knew better than to try and catch the other. A fun little song & dance/game of cat & mouse if you will. Eventually they ended up having to run from the same person together & realized that they honestly make a good team & have stuck together ever since!

Shelldon is adopted by Donnie before he & Cass teamed up. He was told by the Purple Dragons to get close to Donnie so they could catch him in exchange for enough money to set him for life, money they had no intention on giving him. He did get close to Donnie but in the end didn’t want to betray him but the Dragons had accounted for that & set off an explosion in a mining tunnel to get rid of them both. Donnie ended up being able to get Shelldon a little clear of the crumbling tunnel before he was trapped under the rumble. Shelldon doesn’t want to leave him but eventually does & immediately goes to try to find help, coming across Leo who had found Donnie’s spooked horse & was trying to find out what trouble Donnie had gotten himself into since his horse never leaves unless something really bad happened. Donnie ends up losing a leg cuz is it truly an F!Donnie if he doesn’t?

Casey is adopted after Donnie & Cass team up. They were in town for some groceries when Raph told them about this kid in some not so great circumstances & said it’d be a shame if someone were to beat up his guardians & kidn@p him while he was busy with all this paperwork. Donnie & Cass were gone before he finished. They weren’t gonna pass up an opportunity where they had permission to do a crime after all!

The main difference between Leo & Donnie’s work is that Donnie always cashes in the bad guys for money & can be hired for jobs as well as uses semi lethal methods while Leo mainly does it for fun & justice (& to mess with Raph) & takes like a free drink as payment before moving on. Leo will leave notes on the bad guys for Raph for when he comes to pick them up.

“The Bread Winners” is the name of Donnie, Casey, Shelldon, & Junior’s gang because Casey’s brownie scouts & my Donnie baker hc. It also shows that they’re in it for the money & fits with how the go undercover as a family often. Plus it sounds innocent enough to disguise how insane they really are.

That is it for now!! Hope some of y’all like it!!

Here’s the drawing without the text in the middle

[btsmosphere]

Supercharged | JJK

Chapter 15: Powerless

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🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens? 🗲this chapter: It's time to make the fight on your terms.

🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲word count: 6.4k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, superheroes/villains au, found family 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: violence, violence with superpowers, murder, this is the most violent one, swearing, injuries, discussion of homelessness, discussion of crime

a/n: If you didn't read the warnings!! Or even if you did! This is your warning for on-screen murder. It's not very gory, but it is very much there. (spoiler, but) we kill our villains in this one lads, it was kind of the whole point of this thing :))) also most of the word count on this one is the fight so help me lmao, why do I do this to myself🤣 With that out of the way, I am super excited for this chapter!! Protective Jungkook now applies to yn maybe more than anyone and hello yes I am here for it (ofc bc I wrote it ksdfghfl) Enjoy!! And do let me know if you like it!💜💜

Jungkook’s hand was still clutched in yours as you crept together through alleyways. Far, now, from your usual haunt, you recognised none of these streets, but Jungkook never hesitated in his steps.

Sure enough, he led you round a cluster of dustbins on one corner and stopped at last in front of a heavy door. Graffiti was scrawled over the entrance and across the entire wall. If you were to arrive here in the dark, you may not have noticed the seam marking out a doorway at all.

“I thought he might choose this place,” Jungkook muttered to you, “this is where Namjoon first picked me up, after I got my powers. He operated from here until his partnerships brought in enough money for the place in town.”

He turned to knock on the door. All you could do was squeeze his hand, eyeing the surroundings. Things must have changed from before. This was where your team had begun, long before you came into the picture.

The door swung open. Jin’s face emerged, morphing instantly from hostility to relief when he saw you.

Then his eyes moved down, and lingered on your clasped hands.

If you weren’t mistaken, a faint smirk lifted his mouth, but he closed his lips matter-of-factly and forced it away. Only a telltale raise of his eyebrows made you chew your lip as he let you both past him and inside.

A murky corridor led to another sturdy door, and then you were in a larger room. It was bare of furniture, the most notable features the peeling paint and a threadbare carpet lining the space. The walls either side of you sported large windows, but the curtains remained drawn; Yoongi could be the only explanation for the room being fully lit regardless. There were no bulbs in the fixtures.

Something in your chest loosened at the sight of your whole team gathered inside. Everyone had got here before you. Namjoon was pacing in the centre. Hobi slumped against the far wall, Jimin beside him, clothes bloody but a beaming smile on his face.

At the clunk of the door, Namjoon whirled around, finally stopping his impatient strides.

All eyes fell on you. A similar reaction to Jin’s outside swept the room. Reluctantly, you and Jungkook let your fingers slide apart, although you shifted a little closer to him.

Namjoon’s stare, intense and unreadable as always, left you in such suspense that you had to look away. Unfortunately, it brought you eye-to-eye with Jimin, who was being the least subtle of them all. His cheeks were plump with the force of his smile, and he wiggled his eyebrows at you.

You bit back your own grin.

Namjoon, for his part, shook his head and resolved to ignore it. Or deal with it later, at least.

“What did you guys do?”

Or maybe not. Clamping your mouth shut, your eyes widened a fraction. What were you supposed to tell him?

“We, uh-” Jungkook stammered out, before Namjoon pinched his brow.

“I mean with the monster that attacked us,” he cut you off.

You sighed in relief.

“Oh, that…” Jungkook laughed, sheepish.

In three brusque strides, Namjoon marched closer, towards an old television in the corner behind you. A red glow surrounded it as he rapped on the top, and then images flickered to life on the screen.

Blue lights and smoke washed over vehicles rammed haphazardly into a street. Your street.

You didn’t bother reading the fast-scrolling banner below the picture, letting the voiceover fill you in.

“Reports were made of Bolt heading to stop a creature, which he claimed to have escaped from within an operating villain base…” the reporter read, “but on arrival, the beast appears to have been tamed. No damage was sustained to surrounding properties, and a team is working to sedate and control it…”

The screen flashed to a blurry close-up of Frank as you had left him, snoring among the wreckage.

“How the hell did you stop it?” Namjoon demanded, the device blinking back to silence as he turned back to you and Jungkook.

“Well, Y/N, um…” Jungkook gestured for you to take over.

“It’s one of Kuyang’s,” you explained, “there’s this patch behind his ear, it sends him right to sleep. It’s just… a bit difficult to get to.”

“That thing has ears?” Jin echoed.

Namjoon folded his arms and took in the both of you.

“Good work, then. That was lucky. At least it’s lessened some of what Bolt’s trying to pin on us. But this was more than a simple attack.”

He paced again to the centre of the room.

“Bolt doesn’t act on accident; he’s showed us that much. He tried to take us out directly today. He wants to eradicate us. That’s his message, and it’s final. He’ll keep coming for us until one side is destroyed.”

His words bristled around the room, but not with fear. You sensed the rage and determination you shared with your brothers.

You weren’t backing down.

If Bolt was going to make it us vs them, you would just have to win that fight.

Turning, Namjoon met eyes with Jin, who stepped forward to stand beside him.

“At least we know what Bolt has at his disposal,” Jin said, “and what he doesn’t. We know the weapons we’re up against, so I think we can take on any fighters he sends our way. What really counts is the man himself.”

“We’re going to him, right?” Yoongi spoke from his place leaning against the curtain. “I don’t want to wait for him to come after us again. He wants the fight; we make it on our terms.”

Regarding him seriously, Namjoon nodded.

Meanwhile, Jin’s words were stirring something else in your mind. Something you had forgotten in the blur of defeat and panic that had ensued since your fight with Monsoon.

We know what weapons we’re up against…

“Wait,” you breathed. It was enough to snag the group’s attention, tense gazes all finding you. Closest was Jungkook, frowning down at you.

You gulped, and met their eyes.

“When I went after Monsoon,” you began, “I found the shield ray, even if I didn’t get hold of it. But that wasn’t all… He had a collection. And I recognised another one, too. I thought I had burned it up, in the parking lot, but there was another one.”

You had to admit that some nerves crept in at the unsettled silence that followed. Namjoon stared.

“No…” he shook his head, “you’re saying they have the Razer?”

“The one that takes your powers…” you replied, “yes.”

Namjoon swore.

“You definitely destroyed it?”

“Without a doubt,” Jungkook cut in, “I felt the shockwaves in that fight.”

You nodded along with him. Namjoon wasn’t asking to doubt you, though, and took you at your word. You had seen the broken, lifeless shell of that awful gun. No, they had gained another somehow.

“They must have got hold of a blueprint, or a prototype, somehow,” Jin suggested.

“However they did it, it’s best we know what we’re going up against,” Namjoon resolved. He looked around, meeting everyone’s eyes. “You all know what it looks like?”

Nods met him.

“Then watch your backs. We’re still doing this.”

“What was it like?”

By now, you were acquainted with the view from this spot, sitting against the wall in a corner of this place. But how different had it been, when the boys still lived here?

“Hm?”

Jungkook turned to you, resting his head back against the wall. The two of you sat not far from the others, all of you sitting around waiting for Hobi to heal up and for Jin to get whatever results he was hoping for from a beat-up laptop he had pulled from somewhere. You had no idea if he had brought it with him, found it in here, or stolen it. You wouldn’t ask, either.

Though the room was wide open now, you still sat shoulder-to-shoulder with Jungkook like you had in that cramped hallway. It was difficult to keep the same feeling at bay too. His presence lit you up where you touched, but in front of the others you had to keep up some semblance of sanity, and keep from pouncing on him.

“When you first came here,” you forced your eyes away from his softly quirked lips, and to the room. “What was it like?”

To your dismay, his brows pinched into a frown. He eyed the walls, traced them up to the ceiling with its patches of damp.

He shifted his arm against yours in a shrug.

“It was a roof over my head,” he murmured, “at first.”

“Oh,” you stammered, quiet in your shock, “sorry…”

With a blink and a shake of his head, you watched him pull himself back to you. He shot you a disarmingly genuine smile, albeit small.

“Not your fault,” he assured you, “I never told you.”

Instantly, you knew what he was talking about. Just like you, Jungkook must have first moved in after he got his powers. Of course, the balm of the support from (most of) the others had eventually smoothed over the wounds that heralded your arrival.

They wouldn’t be forgotten though.

Nor would you forget your brothers’ wounds. Jungkook had yet to entrust you with his story, the knowledge of those probably painful moments. He had hardly let you near it, all this time.

“You don’t have to-” you said hastily, but he surprised you.

You spotted his jaw tighten, but his voice was level.

“After my dad… I had nothing. The first time I met Namjoon, I didn’t have powers. I did a job for him. I used to steal; it was about the only thing I could do. My dad taught me to fight, once, after he was home late and some older kids tried to break into our place. I fell in with a certain crowd, but half of them were backstabbing sneaks.”

You weren’t sure he even knew he was scowling as he said that. Despite your horror, you couldn’t break your gaze away from Jungkook as he told the story, spelling out what you had always wondered.

He looked over to Namjoon then, snarl easing.

“I guess he thought I was good. He gave me more jobs, paid good money. It wasn’t one of his where it happened. We were taking some kind of reactor – I can hardly remember the plan. Someone wanted power out to rob a string of banks, I think… All that matters is it went wrong. It wasn’t safe, and it… blew up.”

Your chest tightened along with his voice, hearing him straining to keep his throat from closing.

He slumped back against the wall then. Fixed his eyes on yours.

“I got the brunt of it. Two of the others died. One of them ran away when I woke up and asked him to help me. And there was this… this burning I didn’t understand…”

“I remember,” you whispered.

Slowly, he closed his lips. His eyes bled with recognition. You felt it too, conflict constricting your chest. Appreciation that you could share the feeling, understand one another without the need for explanation, mingled with the strain in your heart of knowing he had been subjected to the same torture.

Here you both were, on the other side of it.

Jungkook took a bracing breath, shifted up where he had sagged down the wall – towards you.

“Namjoon found me.”

His voice brightened almost immediately, and he was looking around the room with new eyes of the old memories.

“V came along not too long after I did… It was the boys that made it home. They still do.”

A soft smile took your lips without thought, and you followed his gaze fondly.

The moment your eyes fell on Jin, you saw him perk up, straightening his back. Then he let out a cheerful “Aha!”.

He was the centre of attention that instant, and went on without prompting, fingers still clacking away at the laptop.

“I managed to get into our own system – and Bolt’s taken something!”

“And that’s… good?” you questioned his jubilant tone.

Keeping his eyes trained on the screen, he quirked his head.

“It means I can see where he’s taking it.”

Namjoon came to hover over Jin’s shoulder until they were satisfied. Soon enough, you found yourself refreshing the mental list of what you were about to go up against.

“If he even manages to get it up and running before we get there, it only has three charges per round. This is the first time I’m glad I haven’t improved it yet,” Jin chuckled, telling you about the newest addition to Bolt’s arsenal, the one he took right from your lab. “Jungkook or YN’s powers will take it out easily.”

And so he went on, through power-extending shurikens to the shield rifle Monsoon had stolen, all the things that had slipped through your fingers and how to defeat them.

“And the Razer…” Jin landed on the last one, but tailed off and exchanged a look with Namjoon.

“Just don’t get hit,” the leader said.

Several eyebrows raised in trepidation. You shuddered with an echoing memory of the gun’s piercing cold.

“Hobi,” Namjoon turned away from the subject, “how are you healing up?”

Shifting to sit away from the wall, Hope pulled down the collar of his shirt to reveal the skin where Frank had slashed him. It was still pink, but completely closed by now.

“Better,” he beamed.

“Okay,” Namjoon fixed him with a stern eye, “but check in. If it’s putting you at a disadvantage, I want you out of there.”

“Yes boss,” Hobi replied with a grin and a mock salute.

From that alone, you were sure he was feeling better.

“I say” – Jin shut the laptop with a clack – “we’ve waited long enough.”

You couldn’t help but agree. It felt good to get on your feet again. Inside your chest, the warmth of your powers bubbled alongside your bristling determination. Just enough for you to feel them, to assure you.

A private smile stole across your face, and you turned towards Jungkook.

He found you first. A gentle touch on your wrist made you glance down. His thumb ran firmly, softly, over the skin there, and when you looked up his eyes were dark and affirming.

You realised then, that his defensive ring of fire had never burnt away. You were only on the other side of it, one of the ones he accepted in. His look was one of complete trust. When he nodded, you nodded back.

Let’s do this.

Having been inside for some time, the lot of you know marched out to find it night, the city drenched in the darkness of who-knew-what hour. Your ‘march’ was actually more of a light-footed sneaking. Setting off any alarm bells just yet would blow the operation. Together, your group wove through shadows out of this part of town, unnoticed thanks to the camouflage Yoongi effortlessly provided.

Up ahead, Jin checked around corners and led you on, the buildings rising further above you at every turn. Neon screens flashed through the night in these neighbourhoods, where the inhabitants had money to spare.

The walk couldn’t have been long, but you were a world away from the run-down hideout by the time Jin stopped, facing one of many high buildings of polished glass and chrome.

“So this is it?” Jimin asked, head tilting back.

Your eyes, instead of trailing up the building like Jimin’s, found a looming structure beside it. A pylon planted firm in the ground, standing just taller than the building itself, up to a spidery convergence of wires webbed over the city rooves.

“Well, that sure is handy for someone like him,” Jin scoffed.

Hobi rolled his neck, already striding towards it.

“And now it’s handy for us.”

His leap up three rungs was unnecessary, really. The rest of you followed behind like the mere mortals you were, clambering as silently as you could between the intersecting beams, the metal cold beneath your hands.

You looked back once, finding Namjoon and Jin still on the ground.

“I’ll see you afterwards,” Namjoon was telling him grimly, “all of us have to fight.”

“I know,” Jin agreed. Then he punched him in the arm. “And I had better, alright? See you afterwards, I mean.”

Your leader nodded, then stepped forward to the pylon. You looked ahead and pushed on upwards.

It shouldn’t have surprised you to find Bolt in a penthouse. Following the others, you hopped from the pylon onto the skyscraper’s rooftop; only Namjoon stayed behind. It wasn’t so tall as Kuyang’s lab had been, but it felt miles above. In the darkness, a few glimmering lights dotted the edges of what appeared to be an eerie garden of sorts, although no plants were in sight. Dark tile slabs ran underfoot, broken up by sculptures you couldn’t discern beyond shadows.

The rooftop was halved, your group gathering on the lower segment while a set of stairs rose another floor to more of the same; Bolt’s viewpoint over the city.  Though your eyes darted between the statues, each one playing tricks on you as if they were people watching, your gaze rested eventually on two large glass doors beside the stairway.

A distant light from further inside showed just enough for you to see beyond the glass. An entire wall was decked in little plates, things you vaguely recognised as city awards, only seen on the screens and papers.

A trophy for each life Bolt had taken would have filled the whole building, let alone a feature wall, you thought.

The small huddle of you poised still, hunters, waiting. In the last few seconds before that silence would be broken, you felt Jungkook step behind you.

“This ends now.”

The voice coming over your shoulder was made of everything he was. Electricity, cold and bitter like metal, aflame with determination. The rows, fists and shouting, the tentative midnight whispers, his kisses.

His hurt and all the things he covered it with.

Namjoon didn’t even have to ask his soldiers if they were ready. He raised his arms and slammed palms back down against metal, and a red glow silhouetted you all like a sinister halo.

Everything went dark.

The meagre light inside the property blinked off. The glare of signs across the road plunged away to nothing. Only the dotted perimeter lights, which must run on for emergencies, remained.

Footsteps behind you brought Namjoon through the pack to its head.

Ahead, something moved beyond the glass. Your gaze sharpened on it as the handle turned, the door swinging soundlessly outwards.

While not in full gear, as he had been when he first attacked you, Bolt’s blue mask was in place. Otherwise, he wore dark, comfortable clothes. Internally, you celebrated the small evidence that you really had caught him unawares.

“I should have known,” his voice carried over to you, inflated with arrogance. “Flush out the rats and they’ll have nowhere left to run.”

In your ear, a sharp inhale sent your eyes to Jungkook for a second. His fists tightened at his sides.

“You’ve taken enough, Bolt,” Namjoon spoke. If you didn’t know him, you may not have caught the dark rage burning below his even words.

Then he raised his arms, stretched them towards the man in blue.

A great gust whisked from behind you, snatching at your hair, but you stood firm. In front of you, Bolt was thrown backwards by the air, colliding with the glass behind him.

The starting gun had been fired.

As your enemy crashed through a shower of glass, you began to run. Shards of it scattered, glittering, under your pounding feet. You skidded to the doorway just as Bolt drew back to his feet in the shadows.

Raising your arms to continue the offensive, you were cut short. A startling flash blazed in your vision. In that split-second, it illuminated a smiling Bolt, gun ready at his hip. Just long enough for your heart to sink.

The shield rifle, the very one you had failed to protect.

It seemed only right that you should pay the price.

Its impact slammed against you, wrenching your outstretched arm backwards. The pale sphere it had fired, glowing and crackling, caught hold and took you with it, ensnaring your wrist like a constricting snake. Helpless to detach yourself, your body flailed through the air behind it.

Someone called your name.

Just as fast, you jerked to a stop. Below you, your feet flung out above nothing. Your heart jumped.

Looking around wildly, you found the forcefield had snagged on the wall, stuck fast to it just like it did your arm. It was the only thing holding you here.

Somewhere behind you, above you, grunts and thuds assured you that the fight continued. For now, you had to get out of this trap before Bolt could reach you again, attack you in this helpless position.

“Y/N!”

Jimin’s voice rushed closer. It was an effort to crane your head up to see him. Pale pink hair poked over the ledge.

“Grab on!” he called.

You didn’t hesitate. Swinging yourself up with a kick, you grabbed desperately for the hand he reached out. Finding it clumsily, you clutched to his wrist with clammy fingers. Next moment, he hauled you up, clamping both hands around yours until you rolled over the wall and your feet stumbled against solid ground.

But you still weren’t free.

The forcefield bit at your arm when you tried to drag it free. You cursed.

“It’s just energy,” Jimin spoke, frowning at the luminescent mass.

Then he took a breath, frowning in concentration. With one push of his hand, the sphere shifted, as if it was simply a ball from training.

Resisting, you pulled the other way. For a second, it constricted harder, making your heart clench in dread of following it. Then all at once you were falling free, tumbling to the floor as the forcefield rolled out of sight over the edge.

Hurried hands tugged you up and you were wheeling around to face the battle.

“Thanks,” you quickly clapped Jimin on the shoulder. A brief grin from him, and you dived together back towards the fray.

More shining energy fields pulsed against one wall, but it seemed the others had dodged them. You ran past the discarded weapon on the floor. But there were more where it had come from.

A bright blue jet, just like your own, fizzled against a statue and sent it thundering to the floor. Behind it, Yoongi leapt out of the way just in time. He came sprinting towards Bolt, eyes burning white.

In an instant, the hero let out a yell, clutching his eyes. Staggering, he slipped onto one knee. But in his blind panic, he whirled around, lashing out again even without a target to aim at.

Blazing blue roared outwards. Namjoon had been marching towards the fallen Bolt, but was forced to duck for cover. The lightning sliced clean through the top of the stone figure he hid behind.

Even as Bolt’s attack died, something else caught your eye. Fast as a spark from a flame, he tossed a blade into the air. It whistled, carving a streak of seething blue through the night.

A shout shot echoed across the rooftop, straight to your veins. Yoongi.

Falling from his invisible cloak of darkness, you saw a glowing blue shuriken whizz along his back. The current flew outwards across his body, throwing his pained grimace into haunting relief. The blade skittered, useless, to the ground, having wreaked its injury.

“Yoongi!” you screamed as he fell, blue light dancing over his spasming body.

Staring in horror as you were, the next flash of blue nearly caught you. Running on pure instinct, your body retaliated before you did. Snarling, your powers leapt from your palms, clashing against Bolt’s in mid-air. Blue on blue.

In the flare of sparks, Bolt smiled slowly. Never breaking the connection, he took a step forwards, cocking his head.

“So it’s true,” he spoke, “I heard about you.”

Heart hammering now, you pushed back with all your might, feeling his hostile powers wrestle with yours. They may look the same, but they felt all wrong.

“Tell me,” he took a step closer. You barely resisted the urge to draw back. “How did you do this?”

Steeling yourself with a breath, you unleashed a surge of rage, your electricity hissing through the air. It should have satisfied you to feel his power startle, stutter at the sudden attack.

All you could do was glare. He had no idea. He never thought twice about who he killed, what he took.

But as you stared, there was movement behind him. It was all you could do to keep your eyes on Bolt, willing his attention to stay on you. As it was, he had no idea that Jungkook was stalking towards him.

“I didn’t do this,” you blurted out, needing to keep him focussed. Buying Jungkook time as his face came into sharper focus, closer to the battling blue lights between you and Bolt. “You did this to me.”

You spat your words with all the venom locked inside, ready for one last push as you watched Jungkook raise both arms-

WHOOSH.

You snapped the connection, staggering backwards as Bolt whirled around.

It had not been gold that fired. In a blur, Jungkook was slammed to the ground by a column of water crashing into him.

Everyone on the rooftop turned to its source.

“Shit-” you heard someone curse.

“No,” you breathed.

Feet touching to the rooftop up ahead, among a flood of water, was Monsoon.

Another cold, arrogant grin met you all. You stared in horror. Only Bolt laughed, stepping forwards to climb to his ally’s side. They faced you all from the staircase, looking down.

Pushing himself to his feet, Jungkook’s eyes blazed gold beneath dripping strands of hair.

“Jungkook! No!” you cried, but too late.

Gold split the night, but against Monsoon there was no use. Water surged instantly towards him again, and though your powers protested, burning in your chest with the need to act, you could only stand by. You couldn’t fight him.

Shimmering water engulfed the gold strands. Soon they would immobilise Jungkook, the moment it made contact…

Instead, a red glow sprung up in front of Jungkook with only a split-second to spare, sending the deluge spraying around the shield.

“Let’s start with you, then,” Monsoon smirked.

When you looked back to him, you swore your heart stopped beating.

Raised in one hand, pointing straight at Jungkook, was the Razer. Its eerie white form stood out starkly against the night sky.

The dead white light at its centre jumped to life. A whirring began, menacing and low. It rose at the same rate the strands of light started spinning within the sphere, preparing to drain its victim of all power.

It was stupid. It was stupid, you had already failed once before. You had watched Jungkook fail just seconds ago. There was nothing you could do, yet you had to do something.

You fired at Monsoon.

Easily, he raised his free hand to deflect.

But as the water rushed towards you, Jimin sprinted towards Monsoon. Thrusting an arm forward, he sent a fallen statue flying between you, a silhouette. Your eyes widened in realisation.

The inundation hit the stone with such force, you almost thought it would crack. But no – it sent the writhing water shooting straight back at its commander.

Darting forward, you shot without hesitation. Blue burst from you. The bright tendrils wove into the stream, flying like darts through the current and towards Monsoon. There was no time for him to react; only a fleeting shadow of shock stole over his face before the electricity caught him and his eyes rolled back.

You knew how it felt for your muscles to lock in place, for your body to leave your control entirely. You watched as it took hold of him, too, and smiled.

The force of the water, with no way to resist it, knocked him backwards until the floor no longer held him. A blond blur flew past you, just before the white-clad figure that was Monsoon dropped out of sight forever.

Lowering your palms, your chest heaved. Adrenaline rushed through you; this still wasn’t over.

Your eyes narrowed in on Hobi, whose feet made impact with the roof on landing. Clutched in his arms was the Razer, scooped from Monsoon’s arms just in time.

Bolt, apparently, had got over his ally’s demise already. His grief lasted the space of one step, away from the edge, before he swung round. Like you, he honed straight in on the weapon.

And then everyone moved at once.

Diving out of the path of a sinister blue bolt, Hobi rolled away on the floor. Bolt himself thudded closer, making your friend dodge again, leaping up and out of his reach. The air crackled by Bolt’s hand, but before he could summon electricity to chase Hobi down, a sheet of purple fire swept like a curtain in front of him, the fleeting shadow of V disappearing within the flames.

You were already sprinting at the enemy when Hobi touched down next to you. Stumbling around, he glanced behind him with a curse.

Confused, your eyes first darted over your friend. He didn’t seem to be more hurt, so then what-?

A clatter of metal rung through the spitting flames. Frantically searching, you quickly found the deathly white streak of the Razer on the ground, spinning away. In the desperate fumble to escape Bolt, Hobi must have dropped it.

It didn't matter how it got there. Darting to the side, you changed course towards the weapon. But you weren’t the only pursuer.

Bolt was a silhouette in front of the fire, growing rapidly in the corner of your vision. Your feet thudded as fast as you could make them, heart pounding out the same rhythm, and you were almost there, but Bolt was coming in fast-

A flash of blue. Instinctively, you pulled back, letting it cut through the air in front of your nose. Precious distance you couldn’t afford to waste.

Throwing your weight back further, you followed your body’s momentum. Your hip met the tile and you let your speed carry you, sliding over the tiles and kicking out-

Your toes met the weapon hard, snatching it from right under Bolt’s fingertips as he lunged down. His furious glare shifted to you, but he did not stay to fight. Both of you watched, panting, as the white gun hurtled over the staircase, resounding against each step out of sight.

Then Bolt was off again with you not far behind, jumping to your feet. Stairs flew beneath you as you surveyed the scene.

Bolt charged a decisive line towards the still-falling gun. Namjoon, Jimin and Jungkook assembled on the lower part of the rooftop, ready to strike.

With relief, you saw Jimin move first. Raising one hand, he brought the gun arcing through the night. Though you kept running, something loosened in your chest the closer it came to the hands of your leader.

So focussed on the gun as you were, you almost missed it. Just as the Razer landed firmly in Namjoon’s grip, something glinted in Bolt’s hand, inches ahead of you.

A sizzle of blue. Another shuriken sliced through the air. Namjoon dodged to one side, the blade sailing past him, a spark of blue losing itself in the darkness of the city.

But another blade followed.

Namjoon clearly decided not to hang around. The low whirring began again, piercing your senses straight away as if it was a chainsaw roaring. White light pounced against the glass containing it. Close as you were to Bolt, you couldn’t help the jolt of nerves fizzling in your chest.

Lifting his gaze from the weapon, Namjoon’s eyes widened a fraction. There wasn’t enough time to react. The blue lightning raced straight for his heart.

The image of Yoongi, stricken and fallen, flashed through your mind then. Helplessness burned through every part of you – even as you pushed yourself to sprint, there was no catching it.

Until a shadow leapt in the way. Obscuring your view of Namjoon, they turned in mid-air to face the shuriken.

Jungkook.

Your heart punched into your throat. In a single beat, the blade found its target.

A twitch of pain spasmed across Jungkook’s face. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t move. Your trembling heart choked you, the world falling silent for a deathly second.

Then his feet thumped onto the roof, the clatter of the thin blade following a beat later. Though he stumbled against the outer wall, he remained standing. Utter, blank shock painted on his face, he brought a hand up to his chest.

There, a thin red line was spreading where he had been cut. Nothing more.

Heart still hanging on a precipice, you were suspended in your shock. Numbly, you glanced down to the still-spinning shuriken lying powerless on the floor. Powerless. No more sparks surrounded it. No hint of blue, no colour at all.

Where a heartbeat ago there had been panic, now came no movement at all. Your lungs ached for air after your short race, but you hardly dared to touch the silence by breathing. Shakily, you drew in cool air, turning, as you all did, towards Bolt.

Standing in front of the shattered entrance to his home, he was equally still.

You expected some kind of joke. For him to laugh in your faces, or lash out again.

Instead, he looked down in horror. His hands steadily rose, tuning over in front of him. A downwards turn tugged at his mouth when he raised his face.

Then it turned into a snarl, and he lunged, flinging a hand straight towards you. Everyone on the rooftop jumped.

To your shame, you almost stepped back. Phantom burning, from months ago as you fell from a skyscraper like this one, rocketed through your mind. But the pain you braced for never came. No flash of blue. You stayed rooted there, disbelieving eyes tracing the air which should have been ablaze, and instead was dead and dark.

And you noticed another thing: the whirring had stopped.

Glancing to one side, you saw Namjoon lowering the Razer, face hard and a grim glint in his eye.

“You!”

Bolt’s voice brought you sharply back to him. His mouth twisted into a snarl, and his voice was sharp.

To your alarm, his rage-filled eyes, though devoid of blue, were fixed right on you.

“Give them back to me! Right now!”

With a sudden start, he marched towards you. You actually stepped back this time, in no hurry to be the target of his new warpath.

“You- I gave you those powers!” He ranted, “My powers! You can give them back to me the same way. Do it now!”

Disgusted, you could only shake your head.

Another step and he was right in front of you, reaching for you. That same face which hadn’t looked at you twice when he sent you hurtling to your intended death. The man that had since become the face of your elusive fear, sending others to attack you, never getting his hands dirty unless for a media-worthy cause.

His hand on your arm made your skin crawl.

“I made you what you were,” he pleaded – you saw it now for what it was – “you were nothing before I gave them to you-”

“Get off me!” you snapped, yanking your arm roughly from his grip. When he made to reach for you again, you barely kept control of your powers. You were sure to let just enough slip through that your eyes would light up blue with a reminder.

It clearly found its mark. He stilled, stunned. He had never been in this position before, unable to fight, and he would do well to remember it.

“I was someone before you,” you spoke, low and level.

Bolt seemed robbed of words.

Then his glare flicked to the side. Jungkook stalked up to stand beside you, drawing himself up to his full height. There was a special venom in his eyes, reserved only for the man who had ruined his life.

“Don’t touch her,” he spat.

Something in Bolt snapped. Closing his mouth, his feet scrambled beneath him. He hurried in the opposite direction, staggering a few desperate steps backwards before wheeling around, racing to get inside.

You didn’t move. Any one of you could easily kill him from where you stood – in any case, it wasn’t needed.

Someone was waiting for him.

Stepping from the dark hallway, broken glass crunching underfoot, Jin emerged into the dim light of the rooftop.

He reared back a fist, and brought it down in a blur to collide with Bolt’s face. The moment the fallen hero hit the ground, Jungkook strode forwards. Bolt’s usually vivid mask was finally dislodged, lying dull against the tiles where Jungkook’s boot crushed it against the floor.

Calmly lifting a hand, he fired gold, but not right at Bolt. Instead, you watched the molten light latch around a large shard of glass. The burning ring made dappled gold ripple in the glass, a golden dagger, the brightest thing on this dark rooftop.

Unsteadily, Bolt was getting his hands beneath him again. His ragged panting almost stirred pity in your chest. Almost.

Jungkook pushed his palm forwards, his power moving with him. The dagger struck Bolt’s back. You did not smile, but watched as it plunged ruthlessly into him, making his back arch and drawing a pitiful cry from his mouth.

No one was around to hear it, or to care. Tonight was as desolate as the night you had woken, alone and afraid, in a dark alley, left to die.

It wasn’t painless, but it was quick. Looking to Jungkook as Bolt fell silent, you found his hardened face awash with gold, like it was made of the metal itself. Only the twitch of his jaw as he yanked the glass from its victim belied the impression.

A thump as the body slumped among a soft chorus of grating glass.

The gold faded from Jungkook’s eyes. They turned to you, and you took his hand.

Thank you for reading this far into the series and sticking with it!!💜💜

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[m4sonn]

✧*̥˚ The outsiders Modern AU Headcanons *̥˚✧

- Credits to @stevelovbot on Tumblr for the inspo for this post! And also credits to my friend @peachyponyboyy who I collaborate with for these!! :3

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Ponyboy

• Is a big fan of the Simpsons and can quote almost any episode word by word.

• Says that The Godfather is his favorite movie ever but it’s actually Mamma Mia. He secretly loves musicals.

• Is the only one with a Tumblr account and he’s pretty active in there.

• Definitely writes fan fiction or character studies in AO3.

•The only person that knows about that and gets to read them is Johnny.

• His pfp always matches Johnny’s in any social media platform.

• When he feels annoyed/pissed by his brothers, he likes signing them up for random ass newsletters and whatnot, making sure they get spammed constantly.

• He loves digital books and owns a Kindle but he feels like nothing compares to real books.

• His bi awakening was watching hunger games with dally and seeing peeta, made things worse when he saw the fnaf movie, he’s just a wh0re for josh hutcherson. (He would’ve made the whistle baby edit /j 😣😣🔥🔥)

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Sodapop

• Is the only one who can actually use TikTok and he’s pretty popular. He loves doing trends with the gang, probably forcing them to do the cinnamon challenge. (they agree bc they're all stupid)

• Loves avocados a lot and gets teased for posting pictures of his meals.

• His favorite game is Assassins Creed but isn’t a big fan of the community and fandom around the game. He just wants to play it and have fun.

•Facetimes the rest of the group whenever he wants, specially Ponyboy and Darry.

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Darry

•He’s the owner of the only Netflix and/or any other streaming accounts of the group and is the one who pays for it. The rest of the gang add their own profiles and watch everything they want. (Or they share one account, there is no inbetween)

• Likes to keep up with the news and current affairs, so he follows a lot of reporters and activists on Twitter and Facebook. He’s subscribed to lots of newsletters for sure.

• Was the biggest football star of his school and got a scholarship thanks to it. He went to college but had to stop playing football eventually due to a freak accident on the field. However, this didn’t sadden him, since he got his diploma and works in things related to football anyways, he works as a coach for the local youth football team.

• His phone password is Ponyboy and soda’s birthdays mixed together.

• He is a big fan of No Doubt, when he found out that they were performing at Coachella, he absolutely lost it and started saving for a ticket immediately. When he went and saw them in the front row he cried, absolutely WEEPED.

• Constant listener of destiny’s child and connects with survivor on a personal level and he’s not scared to admit, you’ll sometimes hear him singing it while he’s doing stuff around the house while listening to music

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Dally

•Has been blocked by multiple celebrities on Twitter AND instagram, on various occasions.

•Is a very big fan of The Hunger Games and one of his favorite characters is Peeta.

•Makes sure to be the first one to text Johnny on his birthday, even if they’re standing next to each other.

•Loves crime/serial killer podcasts and has good knowledge about these topics.

•Hates going to the dentist. There is a very embarrassing video of him being out of it after getting one of his wisdom teeth removed that Johnny recorded (Dally forced Johnny to take him since he was scared).

•Is always listening to music and doesn’t like sharing his earphones unless it’s Johnny.

•Has practiced a lot of sports during his life and his favorite one so far is boxing.

•Got drunk one New Year’s Eve and confessed that Darry was like the brother he wished he had had, and that his New Years Resolution was to make it up to Darry (He never did, since he had forgotten). and nobody has ever let him live it down.

•Secret fanboy of the neighborhood, one time he thought nobody was home and started singing daddy issues at the top of his lungs, two-bit has it on video and never lets him hear the end of it about it.

• Still enjoys stealing and robbing old ladies and young children and still enjoys annoying random pretty girls on the street (so basically still and ahole)

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Johnny

• Wears denim overalls with cute sweaters and loves jackets with lots of pockets.

• Loves spicy food and is the only one in the group who can actually eat it without any problem.

• Has always wanted a puppy or any kind of pet but his situation at home always made it impossible. Because of this, Pony gifted him a goldfish one Christmas and they set the fish tank at the Curtis’ so Johnny could visit it as much as he wanted without risking getting his parents angry.

• He gets really attached to that fish pretty fast and treasures the gesture behind it. Pony and him name is Frost.

• Pony and him use Twitter DM’s just to send memes to each other and store them.

• He has a private Twitter account that only Pony gets to follow.

• Can speak Spanish and French.

•Owns a leather jacket that had been Dally’s a couple of years ago and takes care of it as if it was made of gold.

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Two-Bit

• He’s the reason why Darry had to get a Disney+ account.

• Knows all the songs from Frozen I.

• Wanted to have a mouse as a pet (since…mickey mouse, duh.) for a while but Darry refused.

• He doesn’t admit it, but he loves sweet drinks made of fruits and cocktails more than beer.

• His socks never match and they all have at least one hole in them.

• Is the one that gets the most excited about Christmas. He’s not particularly religious but he loves the decorations, and the lights, and the whole mood in general. He’s the one that always makes sure the rest of the boys have presents, even if it’s something small.

• His first time going to disney world he bawled his eyes out, like full on mental breakdown inside the park, Ponyboy and Sodapop saved up all their birthday money, allowance, and paycheck money for about a year and a half to buy the tickets. (they wanted to get a fast pass and like the entire deluxe trip for him, that's why it took so long.) Ponyboy was SO embarrassed from two-bits crying, “You’re 22, Stop. Crying. Over. Mickey.” but still was happy for him.

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Steve

• He tells everyone his top artist is Limp Bizkit but it's actually Queen, his top song was good old fashioned lover boy.

• Wakes up early to watch the F1 races and has never missed a season of Top Gear since he was little. His favorite was Hamilton, but ever since he saw that race with verstappen vs hamilton, his opinions have changed…

• He’s the best at playing video games, and he especially likes horror ones like Resident Evil. (absolute wh0re for Leon Kennedy, i am too tho so no shame)

• Sodapop and him are always playing online together and they sometimes let Ponyboy join them. Him and Sodapop gave ponyboy an unplugged controller once and said it was wireless (for the shitz and giggles and to see how long it took for him to notice), he realized half way through the game and told Darry who then yelled at them for 5 minutes.

• Doesn’t like TikTok and is always going about how Vine was just much better. (He’s stuck in 2014..)

• Gets angry when his texts go unanswered in the group chat (they do it on purpose since they know it pisses him off.)

• He listens to cotton eye joe on repeat, change my mind.

[chimcess]

A Picture’s Worth || jjk (I)

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader Other Tags: Ex-Art Thief!Reader, Ex-Assassin!Reader, Ex-Gang member!Reader, Gang member!Jungkook, Assassin!Jungkook, Hitman!Jungkook, Thief!Jungkook Genre: Strangers to lovers, gang AU, mafia AU, Fluff, Angst, Smut     Word Count: 23.2k+ Summary: After pulling off the largest art heist of her career, Y/N has put that life behind her. However, after 4 years out of the business, she comes home to find a stranger in her house. Warnings: violence, blood, gang activity, mafia activity, mentions of death, actual death, crime, robberies, pickpocketing, graphic depictions of injuries, guns, knives, mentions of past torture, body branding (not too graphic), major character(s) injured, STRONG LANGUAGE, Gang tattoos, Abuse (not JK and Reader), JK is a bit of a himbo, but only with his friends, he’s actually quite scary, I’m not a gang member or anything so I could be wrong about that stuff, I tried my best, eventual smut, mutual pining, kissing (let me know if I missing anything) Author’s Note:Things were getting out of hand, so I made the executive decision to split this into two parts. This one is establishing plot so no smut (yet). Thanks so much for reading. She’s a big girl.

Listen to the Playlist || cross posted to ao3: here

Five years ago

There comes a point in a child’s life that they begin to ponder over what they will become. Some girls I knew dreamt of becoming lawyers, doctors, or astronauts. I remember there being a time when I had thought of more than the mountains I had lived in, possibly moving to California and starting my life over after I was finished with school. I had even played with the idea of owning a salon. I hoped that I would be pretty when I grew up with bright red hair just like Ariel. It was strange looking back on that time and how little had truly changed. 

While I had, in some ways, deviated from the life my family had wanted for me, I was still lurking in the shadows and biding my time. Instead of hiring me for hits, the players I worked for enjoyed the finer things in life. Patrons of the arts if you will. Staring up at the Rembrandt painting, it was not a wonder as to why.

Looking over my shoulder, I was relieved to see Hoseok in position. Locking eyes momentarily, I gave him a small, polite smile and returned to the painting in front of me. To the security cameras, we were simply two strangers who had a small moment in time. I knew that we were trying to use signals as much as we could without looking suspicious. A smile normally meant that I was confident I could pull this off. Hoseok’s returning nod was his way of saying he was happy with his own assessments.

The heist would take a few more weeks to plan out. Our buyer wanted 18 different art pieces from this museum, something that was doable with our team, as well as 38 pieces of jewelry. Taehyung and Jimin would be in charge of the operation. Walking away from the Rambrandt, I looked over other pieces with the same intensity to not raise suspicions. While the cameras here were not of great quality, they could still see us and that alone was enough to bother me. 

Stealing has always come naturally to me. Second nature. When I was young I pickpocketed, the artform far more refined now that I was much older, and my parents enjoyed how sneaky I could be when I wanted to be. We never stayed anywhere for too long, the last place I had seen them was Aspen six years ago, but my favorite years were London. The Underground was a perfect place to pickpocket. In a day I could swipe over 100 items and no one would be the wiser.

My tastes changed as I grew. There was a time when I hated the idea of being a criminal like my parents were. I disdain violence at the best of times, but there were very few ways of getting out unscathed. It was when I managed to steal jewels from a heavily secured store that I caught the eyes of The Saints. Hoseok was impressed by my attention to detail and offered me a way to get out of my family home. I was sixteen and impulsive. A little over ten years later I was still standing here, pickpocketing the wealthy and giving it to those just as fortunate. It had stopped bothering me years ago, the guilt, but there was always a piece of me that longed for those far away dreams of cutting hair. It almost made me laugh just thinking about it.

“It’s a beautiful painting, isn’t it?” A soft voice asked, suddenly beside me.

Turning, I was confronted with a familiar face. Yoongi hardly changed, his set lips and keen eyes unwavering. There was a long, jagged scar that ran down his forehead, over his eye, and down his cheek. He got the scar when he was still in the Irish Mob back in Boston. He was an earner with those boys and they gave him hell about leaving. Still, he had managed to walk away only to join a different side of organized crime.

“Yes, but not really to my taste,” I joked.

I had never been the biggest fan of abstract work. I liked it a great deal more than landscapes, it was at least interesting to look at, but the lack of effort had bothered me. It would never take off anyway. No one liked over priced paint splatters. Yoongi hummed.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it.”

Taking the cue, I stood as he walked off and began counting back from 500 in my head. Everyone would be heading back to the command now. Everything had been squared away for now. Taking one more passing glance at the Rembrandt, I sighed. Hopefully, when this is all done, I could walk away.

With my head held high, I slowly drifted toward the exit. Taking the time to look over art was another great way to cover my tracks. In order to stay a nobody, I had to be a nobody, and only a nobody would stop to look at a still-life of a bowl of fruit. I never did understand why these things were popular. Then, finally, after five more minutes of “ooo”ing an “ahh”ing at pieces I’ve seen every week for the last month, I was out of the door.

Three years ago

Blinking, I stood motionless as I stared at the cracks in the little apartment’s ceilings. It had been a difficult find, something so cheap in San Diego was a steal even if it was only 300 square feet. Smiling, I threw my duffel bag of belongings onto the futon I had brought earlier that day. Finally, things were going to start looking up.

I had flown in from Kansas the week prior and had made the most of cheap motel rooms until I scored this place. I had always loved California and finally I had made it home. Looking around, I found I was not as upset by the lack of space or functioning stove. In fact, it had been the lightest I had felt in a very long time. Only second to when I graduated from Aveda last fall.

Deciding to pick up what little boxes I had with me, I broke them down and tore them into strips that were easily thrown away. I was lucky the place had come with a small, countertop fridge and microwave. The only sink was in the bathroom, a room that was floor-to-ceiling covered in tile with a toilet, small sink, and a shower head. I would have to wear flip flops just in case. The landlord had recommended using a bucket since the hot water only lasted for about 10 minutes.

I did not have much. I had gotten into the habit of packing light and living even lighter, but I was determined to try this differently. I’ve gotten what I have always wanted and I was going to let anyone, or anything, take it away from me. Going to my duffel bag, I began packing out my folded clothes and organizing them into different piles before putting them away. I had bought a tall, skinny wardrobe at the same GoodWill I had gotten the futon from. 

Calling out to my phone, I asked Siri to play some music and got to work. I hated silence. Using the small drawers on the left side, I stuffed my underwear and pajamas on that side of the wardrobe. The right side was meant to hang nice things on, but I did not own nice things anymore. Instead hung were two pairs of jeans, a few dresses, and some shirts. I only owned black now. It was the dress code for every salon I had ever worked at- including the newest one. My shoes went on the shelves above the drawers and I made a mental note to buy a better pair of sneakers. I wanted to get outside more often.

Putting away the rest of my things was just as quick. My makeup was stored away on the desk that was attached to the wall beside the fridge. It was meant to be a dining area, but I doubted I would ever have company over to make use of it. My few skincare products were safely stored away in the bathroom mirror, and my kit was under my bed for safe keeping. I was suddenly acutely aware of just how sad everything truly was.

“Well,” I mumbled to myself. “Hopefully I can get enough clientele to get out of this shithole.”

At least, I thought to myself, at least I was free. 

With that in mind, I grabbed my keys and headed out into the city. It had been hours since I last stopped for anything and I would have no luck here for the night. Slipping into the hallway, I realized that I was happy. For the first time in a while I felt unadulterated. Things were going to be fine.

Two years ago

Clutching the pizza box with one hand and balancing it on my hip, I cradle my phone with my shoulder as I open the door to my building.

“The earliest I’ll be available is Thursday,” I said, my voice sickeningly sweet.

The customer, Jules, cheerfully asked if I had any availability on Sunday instead. Rolling my eyes, I reminded her that the salon was closed on both Sunday and Monday. This would be the third time I had to repeat myself.

“What about Saturday?” She asked, still as clueless as she had been since I had picked up.

“I’m free from 2pm until 3pm, but if you want a haircut and balayage I will need longer than an hour.”

“How long do you need?” Finally, I heard a hint of frustration slipping through her otherwise cheery voice.

“If you want the full layered balayage it can take up to three hours for hair as long as yours is. It can be shorter if you just want a partial- between 45 minutes to an hour and a half.”

Huffing up the stairs, I struggled to open the door to my floor and used my foot to keep it open while I awkwardly hobbled. Rolling my eyes, I wanted to pull my hair out. This would be the fourth time now.

“I can put you in Thursday morning from 8am until noon. I can also do Friday from 5pm until 8pm. I’m not available again until the following Wednesday.”

Jules hummed, unable to stay silent I found. We had been on the phone for twenty five minutes and I was beginning to get a migraine. She was sweet, and I appreciated her never ending patience, but I was not blessed with the same superpower. I had never been known for my temperament or politeness. I only had patience when money was involved. Shoving my door open with my shoulder, I willed those thoughts away. That was the last thing I needed to think about right now.

Jules was going to make me go rob a fucking bank at this rate. Banks weren’t even my thing. That brought a smile to my face and I put the pizza down on the single counter I had in the kitchen. 

“I guess Thursday will work then. I was just hoping to get it done before my birthday.”

Pausing, I sighed heavily. Wonderful. She was a guilt tripper. Little shit.

“What day is your birthday?” I asked.

“Oh! It’s Tuesday. My girls and I are going to the Cheesecake Factory to celebrate.”

And despite my better judgment, I opened my calendar and began looking at my schedule on Tuesday. Knowing I had taken the bait hook, line, and sinker, I just went right out with it. 

“We can try something if you’re open to it.”

“Sure, what’s up?” Jules asked, voice perking up.

“I can give you a partial balayage Tuesday and then you can come back Thursday to finish the rest if you want to after seeing the results.”

Jules squealed and began talking very quickly, her excitement palpable. I cringed away from the speaker of my phone.

“That would be Ah-mazing! What time on Tuesday could you see me?”

“I had a cancellation first thing in the morning. I’m free from 8am until 9:45. We’ll get as much as we can during that time.”

“Oh! I can definitely make that. Can we do the haircut on Tuesday instead of Thursday?”

Biting my tongue, I had to stop the smart ass comment I wanted to make from coming out. She was obviously very young or had little experience going to a salon. Still, it’s common sense that we would cut first. I’m not wasting products like that.

“That’s what I was thinking, too,” I settled on.

“Thanks so much, Y/N! See you Tuesday!”

“See you then, Jules. Before you go, can I get some information from you so I can put you down properly?”

After getting her full name, phone number, and email address, I let her go and logged into the salon’s appointment system to add her in. Our receptionist had quit two months ago and we were having a hard time finding a replacement. I tried to tell Tony he needed to raise the pay but he was not budging. Right now we were all stuck keeping track of everything ourselves. 

The pizza was not very hot anymore but was warm enough to not be too bothersome. Happy to have some extra money coming in, I went to the fridge and grabbed a soda from it. I bought a small cart to put my microwave on. The mini fridge just happened to fit perfectly below it. The small Keurig I bought myself for Black Friday was right beside the microwave. A snug fit but it worked. Taking a bite of the pizza, I leaned against the counter and groaned.

I was so happy to be home.

Home. It was a word I was still hesitant to say. It was hard to believe things were permanent even after all this time. Some nights I stared up at the ceiling and waited for a knock on my door. Even if Hoseok promised emergencies only it was difficult to know what the guys would consider an emergency. That world was so far removed from this new reality of mine that I feared I was losing my edge. Would I even be able to help them anymore? 

With doubt and a recurring nightmare, I fell asleep and dreamt of casinos and Rembrandt.

One year later

Sweeping up the floor, I glanced around the room to find myself alone. 

“Great,” I huffed. “I’m going to have to talk to Tony about this bullshit.”

It had been the third time the new hire, Sasha, had left without helping with cleanup. First he snuck out of the back when he was helping Tiesha, and the last two times had been with me. While we tried to keep the boss out of the personal issues we had at the shop, I was not about to let some 19-year-old walk around like he’s above it all. Angrily, I kept sweeping and hoped that the bastard got stuck in the worst traffic getting back on the I-5. 

Walking over to Andrea’s station, I rolled my eyes. She always forgot to put her combs in the sterilizing solution. Making quick work of that, I went around checking everyone’s stations to be sure it was all in order. Even Sasha’s. His desk was immaculately cleaned and I gritted my teeth harder. Seems like he’s one of those people. Feeling petty, I skipped sweeping under his vanity and kept going. Not like it made much of a difference anyway. Maybe I should steal his wallet tomorrow and help him look for it.

Fucking idiot.

No, I scolded myself. I am not that person anymore. I would definitely not go back to that lifestyle for Alexander Ivanov. Reminding myself that he was just a spoiled little brat, I continued sweeping hoping it would calm me down long enough to clear my head. If I let any of those ideas foster that would be bad. I’d have every valuable item that boy owned by lunch.

Suddenly the front desk phone began to ring and I chose to ignore it. It was five minutes after closing time and I did not feel like dealing with anyone else today. Sasha had pissed me off enough. I did not want some snotty customer adding to it. The ringing stopped and I was satisfied that they simply left a voicemail. 

Turning to go back to the staff room to gather the Swiffer, I was stopped in my tracks by the phone. A part of me wanted to answer it now. It had to be the same person. Still, I was off the clock and that was not a part of my job description. Destiny would handle it in the morning. The ringing stopped. I started walking. It started up again.

Peeved but resigned, I walked to the front desk and checked the number flashing on the screen. It was from out of state. Figures. Usually clients who wanted to come in on vacation called without realizing the time zone difference. Forcing a smile to my face, I picked up.

“Mane Street, this is Y/N speaking. How can I help you?”

“Ten minutes.” The line died.

I knew that voice from anywhere. Shaking, I placed the phone back on its modem and took a second to gather myself. Whatever the emergency was, I only had ten minutes to finish cleaning and get outside. Knowing Hoseok, he would be waiting for me near my car. Better yet, he’d already be in the passenger seat.

Scrambling, I began to mop the floors and Windex the mirrors. I refused to let this unexpected visit stop me from performing my job. I was happy Sasha had left. I probably looked like I’d seen a ghost. You have definitely heard one, my subconscious screamed.

I was locked up eight minutes later. I had been keeping count in my head just as I always had before. It was unsettling just how quickly I had transformed back into the person I had once been. Who was I fooling? I’ve been covering her up with scissors, a shitty studio apartment, and take out. That did not change the overseas accounts, fake names, and stolen jewelry I’ve kept. That doesn’t change the stolen art hanging on my walls.

Rounding the back of the store, I was not surprised to see my vehicle was the only one still there. Squinting, I could see the silhouette of a person’s head in the passenger side. The street light just in front of the pickup was facing the front, their side profile obscured by the light, but I would recognize Hoseok anywhere. He was hard but soft, jagged but gentle, and most importantly, his face was oval with a pointed chin. Anxiety bubbling in my stomach, I put on a brave face and marched forward. I would be right on time.

Hoseok did not say a word as I slid into the driver’s seat or when I closed the door. Not waiting for him to make a demand, I started the engine and turned on the AC. It was stuffy. Hoseok continued to look straight while I buckled my seatbelt and put the truck in reverse.

“Don’t go home,” He finally said.

Dread filled my stomach but I did as he said. Instead of turning left, I went right and headed for the little diner I enjoyed getting a late dinner at. It was the best place for steak and eggs. I was not sure if Hoseok would be hungry but I did not care. We never really thought about those things before.

“I’m glad to see you’re doing what you like,” He spoke again, his voice still gentle. “You look very nice, too. Like the new hair.”

I was always unnerved by this side of Hoseok. He was typically a very loud, energetic, and passionate man. Soft spoken and Hoseok had never gone together. Then again, it had been almost five years since I had seen him. A lot could change within that time. That, or whatever he was going to tell me would require softness. I hoped it was just a personality change from getting older. 

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m glad to see you’re healthy.”

Finally, he cracked a smile. “Hadn’t realized you thought about me at all.”

I scoffed, “Of course I think about you. I think about all of you very often.”

This seemed to throw him for a loop. It was weird to speak so openly about my feelings. We had always gone about life with coldness. Being sharp and intense was the only way to survive out there. If anyone saw you as weak or vulnerable then you were finished. That was why Yoongi usually acted as a middle man. He was the hardest, coldest, most impenetrable wall there ever was. Just looking into his eyes you could see that. Shivering, I recalled the time he killed a man with a set of chopsticks while we were in Korea. 

“We think about you, too,” Hoseok said, sounding far away.

Turning into the diner’s parking lot, I turned off the engine and got out. Hoseok followed closely behind me and I asked him if he wanted anything.

“I hear the steak and eggs are nice,” He commented, eyes downcasted.

“Is Taehyung keeping tabs on me?” I sneered, anxiety turning into anger.

Taehyung was the tech guy when he wasn’t stealing jewels. He was also a royal pain in the ass who never knew when to cool it. He had been the most upset when he heard that I was leaving the crew and I would not put it past him. Taehyung was just that kind of guy. The gesture was kind, I was certain of that, and came from a place of love. Still, I had asked to be left alone. It seemed like no one really accepted that.

“I tried to stop it but it’s impossible to keep track of everything he does,” Hoseok admitted. “After a while we just accepted the fact that he wouldn’t give it up. He is trying to check in less and less, though. He’s just worried someone will come around and we won’t know about it.”

“And that’s how you knew where I worked?”

Holding the door open, Hoseok thanked me before going inside. Doris smiled at me when I walked inside. She was an elderly woman who liked to help me with my Sudoku puzzles on Sunday mornings. Eyeing Hoseok curiously, I waved at her before finding an open booth. I normally sat at the bar but I did not want prying eyes. Doris would not go away if we sat there and Hoseok was obviously wanting privacy.

“Hey sugar,” Dixie, a waitress from Alabama, greeted us.

She put down two menus and asked us what we wanted to drink. Hoseok ordered a coffee while I got a glass of chocolate milk. The man looked me up and down, amusement coloring every one of his features. I waved him off and looked at the menu. If he ordered steak and eggs I would order something else. Hoseok was a big fan of sharing food even if we both had our own portions.

Hoseok, like many of the guys from the crew, was South Korean. He was born in Gwangju, a city in the southern part of the country, and moved to the US with his friend Namjoon during university. Namjoon went on to become a campaign manager in New York City while Hoseok became an associate of the Gambino family after killing a few guys. Over time the two went their separate ways, but Hoseok always spoke fondly of him. Last he heard, Namjoon had moved to Seoul and was working at the Blue House.

“You all figured out what you want?” Dixie asked, reappearing with our drinks.

Hoseok ordered the steak and eggs while I got their “Rising Roadhouse'' meal. It came with waffles and I knew that would make Hoseok happy. When we were alone again, Hoseok sighed.

“It’s Jimin,” He said.

Bracing myself, I leaned in closer so we could speak quietly. The diner was almost empty at this time of night and I was nervous. This was shit no one needed to hear about. Hoseok got closer to me.

“What’s going on?” I demanded, whispering harshly.

“He’s gotten into some shit with Winter Hill again. Yoongi bailed him out but things are going to shit. They want us to get some things for them to make up for it. We weren’t sure where to go, and Georgie was very specific.”

I breathed through my nose. Jimin was my closest friend during my time with the crew. We thought the most alike, worked the best, and trusted one another. However, we were also hot heads. I had worked on myself tremendously over the years, but Jimin had the worst kind of anger. Talking out the mouth. And to talk to somebody in Winter Hill the way I assumed he had? Jimin was asking to lose a finger. That’s if he hadn’t already. Looking at Hoseok, he seemed to know what question I had on my mind.

“Yoongi made him cut the first joint off. I told him to write an apology letter in blood. I also sent the boss the piece in a medicine jar. Just to be sure.”

Grimacing, I rubbed my forehead. I had almost forgotten the way they do things in the mafia. The letter in blood, however, seemed more of a New York thing. I’d have to get clarification on that later. Leaning back in my chair, I shook my head.

“Unbelievable,” I mumbled absentmindedly.

On one hand, I was very angry that either of them would humiliate Jimin like that. On the other hand, I knew that the boy had put them in a very, very fucked up spot. Either they make amends and punish him or they lose the entire East Coast. If Boston doesn’t want anything to do with them, New York will become weary as well. Even if Hoseok was a Red Pull at one time, he is still an outsider. He was still just an associate. 

“What is he looking for?” I finally asked, leaning back in.

“Jewelry. Said they wanted something ‘your old girl’ would like. Said you’d know what to do.”

I smirked. Georgie Boy had always been impressed with my taste. Still, I was not sure about getting involved with all of this. In order to do so would mean helping them stake out a place and I was not going there. I had made my peace. Still, I could not help the part of me that felt excited. I squashed it like a bug.

“I’m not helping you with anything,” I said.

“I’m not asking you to,” He replied. “Just tell us if you’ve seen anything noteworthy lately.”

Dixie came back with our food and I used it as a distraction. I needed time to think. Hoseok and I ate off of one another and I continued to sit and ponder over the new things I had seen at the museum in town. I had gone many times, I had always tried to desensitize myself to the feeling I got when I walked in, but each time I looked around. I knew where every single camera was, I knew how to get into the back, and I was familiar enough with the security system to work around it. Every detail of a heist had already formed in my head that I refused to act on. Just as I knew every museum all the way up to Orange County. There were quite a few jewelers that had caught my eye as well. Still, I knew my answer after a few minutes of silence.

“His daughter’s birthday is soon, isn’t it?” I clarified, making sure my memory serves me well.

“In a few weeks,” Hoseok nodded.

“There’s a pair of earrings at Beverly Hills Jewelers,” I started. “They’re 2 carat, T.W, diamonds. They’re heart shaped. Halo. They’re beautiful.”

“Price?”

“I believe $15,000. They have some nice tennis chains as well that could match.”

He hummed, “I don’t know if it’ll be enough.”

I nodded, “I’ll include a personalized letter as well as a ring from my own collection if that helps.”

Hoseok smiled brightly at me. I knew that had pleased him. Georgie Boy would also be happy. His little girl gets some nice gifts and he gets to wave his dick around like the narcissist is is. In my head, I was already trying to remember the layout of the store. I had only gone inside twice when I took a trip to Beverly Hills. I was having a rough day and I wanted to get back in my element for a while. Scoping out places was always a relaxing thing for me to do. I ended up buying a necklace while I was there so they wouldn’t become suspicious of me. Still, I would have to see it again and show the guys what I was talking about so they could do the hit. That place was heavily secured.

“Thanks, Y/N,” Hoseok said, pushing the last piece of steak closer to me.

Grinning at him I replied, “It was an emergency.”

And then I popped the steak in my mouth and savored the taste. Just for now I would have a little bit of chaos. It would just be Hoseok and I, so that made the guilt lessen. At least this wasn’t something I would have to actually perform. Still, I thought to myself, I was incredibly bored without the little bit of chaos I had before.

Present

Laughing, I cut another piece of brown hair off. Jules stared at me, her hands covering her mouth, while she shook. She was a regular now, always got the same treatment, but when she called about her appointment last week she asked for a bob. Well, giving it to her, it was difficult to imagine just how upset she would become.

Her mother had recently been diagnosed with cancer and she wanted to show her that she was standing with her. The chemo had made chunks fall out and her mother decided to buzz her head. I had been the person to do that and give her a pamphlet of local stores she could go to and buy nice wigs. Jules, however, had called me late and said she wanted to donate her own hair for her mom. Tony had recently registered the salon with Locks of Love and trained us all in it. Sasha had been the most excited about the prospect. His mother had died from cancer when he was in highschool. 

Jules’s hair was thick, dark brown, and wavy. Everything about it was perfect and she was a dream to work with. She always took things in stride and tipped well. Today, I was worried if she would ever come back. 

Her hair was long enough that we could keep it at her shoulders. She had always kept it past her butt, just barely grazing her upper thighs, and took pride in it. I was still planning to give her plenty of highlights and a blowout- on the house. I had nothing but love for the girl and I knew how difficult this would be for her. Glancing at Tiesha, she smiled.

“Girl, what are you crying for?” She joked, parting another section of her client’s hair.

I recognized her but was not sure of her name. She always came in for installations or silk presses. Tiesha was always happy to see her, at the very least, so I knew she was a nice enough person. 

“I don’t know,” Jules whined back, sniffling and rubbing her reddening eyes.

“Now, you are too damn pretty to be looking like that,” She replied, braiding back another section. “Make an appointment with momma and I’ll hook you up.”

I scoffed, “I can do extensions, too.”

“Oh, I know. But you’re most definitely a colorist. Julie, baby, Ty will take good care of you, okay?”

“Your mom will be very happy,” Sasha chimed in, his Russian accent thick. 

Jules nodded, “Yeah, she will.”

I smiled to myself. That was the best motivator to get through this. I kept as much length as I could and I was still going to try to make her feel pretty with the new style. She had said her friends were excited but her boyfriend was conflicted. He loved her hair. That made me frown. Who the fuck says that to their girlfriend? Especially one who’s doing it for their sick mother.

“I’ve never gone this short before,” Jules said, her composure coming back. “It’s scary.”

“Don’t worry,” Sasha soothed, cleaning up from his last client. “You’ve got the best in the house. Y/N’ll take care of you.”

I winked at the boy. Sasha had grown on me considerably since he was first hired. I had not gone to Tony about his skipping after all, instead I cornered him at work and told him if he ever ditched me again I would get him fired. We were rocky after that but I knew his respect for me had gone up. A friendship blossomed when he confessed he was clueless about doing color. Sasha was an amazing stylist and his precion was otherworldly, but Destiny was right to never give him color clients. I spent a few nights helping him practice on some mannequin heads and he followed me around like a puppy. He had even agreed to clean up alone for two nights while I was in Beverly Hills helping Hoseok scope out the place. We were thick as thieves after that.

“I know that,” Jules cracked a smile. “She always takes care of me.”

“I’m flattered,” I finally said. “Don’t worry, I’ve got plans for you.”

Her smile grew. Jules had been very excited about free coloring. I had told her I was giving myself free reign, and I wondered if she thought I was going to go manic pixie on her. Hopefully some lowlights and babylights would suffice. We had never gone darker before and I thought it would suit the new cut well. 

Cutting in her layers, I was happy with how it looked. Her hair framed her face nicely and she would still have enough length to play around with it if she wanted. Jules was a fan of those half-up, half-down looks. Using my comb, I ran through her hair and cut. So far, she had not looked back at the mirror. She seemed nervous too. 

“Do you want me to cut your bangs blunt or keep them split?” I asked.

Jules perked up, “Oh! I was actually thinking about trying a new bang style.”

I nodded, “Do you have a picture?”

She opened her gallery and pulled it up. I smiled to myself. Jameela Jamil really did pull off the schoolgirl bangs. 

“So in between?” I walked around so she was facing me. 

“Do you think it’ll look nice?” She asked, chewing her bottom lip.

I studied her face for a moment. 

“You’ll look great, but it might take some time to get used to. They’re a bit more maintenance than blunt or curtain.”

She smiled, “I figured that.”

Working quietly, I began to trim her bangs into the correct shape. They will look their best after I finish styling the rest of her hair. Jules loved it when I straightened her hair after our visits. She never had the patience for it at home and it made her feel special when she got it done here. I would have to let her know that her bangs will look pretty if she curled the longer side pieces to blend them in with her natural waves. With the cutting done, it was time to start the lowlights.

“When is your next appointment?” I asked Sasha.

He was sitting in his chair and texting someone on his phone. He glanced at me before getting back to his screen.

“About twenty minutes. He’s new.”

“Oh, a man?” Tiesha dramatically emphasized the man part. It was not often that men booked with us. Sasha had gone to barber school and did amazing work, but for some reason the idea of going to a salon bothered most men. “He from out of town?”

“I think so,” The Russian nodded. “He definitely sounded foreign. I couldn’t tell where from. Maybe Asia?”

I froze for a moment. I took a breath. There was absolutely no way that any of them would do that. Then I thought of Taehyung. Absolutely not, I scolded myself. That boy feared me more than anybody else. I would ring him by his neck and then let Yoongi know about it. Besides, I said emergencies only. They would have scheduled with me if they were trying to talk. Walking back to my chair, I placed the dye and bleach down on the metal tray next to me. Opening one of the drawers at my desk, I grabbed some latex gloves and foil.

Getting started was simple. Getting the brown, I began painting sections of her hair and foiling them. The foil was not really necessary, but I always got nervous that the parts I did not want colored would get touched. Lowlights were more sparsely added, and unlike highlights, never layers. Making my way around her head, I was excited to see if she would like it. I only went a shade darker than her natural color, so the color contrast was not extremely stark. The highlights were the most important part of the look.

Foiling the last piece of hair, I took the bowl to the sink near the back as well as the brush I was using. Tossing them in and removing my gloves, I heard the bell chime and Sasha’s customer service voice begin. No one could beat Tiesha’s, that woman had client relationships like no one I had ever met. They adored her.

“Come sit and we can get started,” Sasha seemed more excited than usual.

I guessed the guy wanted something a bit different from his normal caseload.

“Alright,” I sighed, clapping my hands. “Let's get this bleach started.”

Walking back into the main room, I paid no mind to the customer sitting in Sasha’s chair. Jules was FaceTiming with someone and I grinned when I recognized her mom’s voice. She seemed very cheery today.

“Oh, I love that length on you,” Martha gushed, her accent only picking up on certain words.

“Gracias, mami,” Jules beamed. “Do you think Carlos will like it?”

Martha waved her hands around animatedly when she talked. I had learned that from the many times she came to the salon with Jules. Now, she was shaking them violently.

“Who cares?”

I laughed and got to work on her highlights. 

“I said the same thing,” I chimed.

The three of us talked as I worked. Martha always enjoyed asking me about the craziest customer of the week, and I usually indulge her. This week it had been a very convoluted, pastel rainbow color job. She wanted the top half white and the bottom portion colored. She booked out my entire day, gave me hell about every insignificant detail, and then left a $2 tip. Sasha got to hear me rant and rave about it when we were cleaning that night.

“She’s never allowed in my chair again,” I finished, setting a timer for everything. 

The lowlights had been sitting for twenty minutes while the babylights would need about 15 in order to develop the way I want them to. Thinking, I was certain the lowlights would be fine going two minutes over the usual time. They would be hardly noticeable regardless. 

“You’ve had worse,” Sasha pointed out.

“Yeah,” I nodded. “But those women tip well. I don’t care how rude you are- money is money. That chick is a pain in the ass without the benefits.”

“She has nothing on Kimberly,” Tiesha joked. 

I groaned, “God, don’t even put that name into the universe. She’s due back soon.”

Sasha laughed. “She does pay very well. Don’t blame you.”

“Who’s Kimberly?” Jules asked.

I gave Tiesha a look before answering her.

“She’s a regular. Tony was her go-to guy, but he’s only in twice a week and it doesn’t line up with her schedule. He sent her over to me. Let’s just say she takes picky to a new level.”

Jules snickered, “What does she like to get?”

“Usually a platinum blonde, layered cut. On paper it’s not the most difficult thing in the world, but she makes it much more complicated than it needs to be.”

“Complicated?” Tiesha exclaimed. “That woman is super rude, always late, and acts like she knows everything. I’d tell that bitch to kick rocks.”

Her client laughed out loud.

“That might be true,” I reasoned, checking the foils. “But, she always tips well and shouts me out on her socials. So, can I really complain? Besides, I’m used to her.”

Checking the foils again, I was happy with the color they were and decided to take the foils off early. Stopping my timer, I asked Jules to walk over to the rinsing station. I was happy this was my last client. Sweeping up the hair, I left it in the dustpan until I was ready to begin the tedious task of preparing it for donation. Putting on a new pair of gloves, I willed this day to be over already.

I knew something was off when a new motorcycle was parked out front. Briefly checking the plates, I was even more weary when they were from Jersey. I knew far too many people in that corner of the US. Still, I told myself that it could be anybody. Perhaps one of my new neighbors was from Hobokan. That was highly unlikely, though. Eyeing the red leather jacket hanging from one of the handles, I only knew one person who owned something like that. I guess I will be seeing Jimin tonight. The thought bothered me far more than I thought it would.

Taking my time going up the stairs, I considered calling Hoseok and demanding to know why Park was sniffing around my apartment. I knew I should have moved out, should have tried something new, but the thought of leaving the only home I ever knew bothered me. Using the time climbing to my advantage, I slowly steeled myself. Jimin could smell weakness from a mile away. He was also one person who could convince me to do bad things.

The excitement that ran through me at the idea sickened me.

Starting at the 4 on the door, I braced myself. When I walked into that hallway all traces of the new me had to disappear. There can be no laughter, no crying, and no open hostility. I would have to be a blank slate. With one small breath, I pulled the door and went into the hall.

There wasn’t a body in sight, but I knew better than to go off of that. Jimin could get into my apartment with relative ease. No one would notice either. Everyone else that lived was too busy making ends meet to pay attention to the stranger sneaking into my house.

Taking my keys out of my purse, I unlocked the door and walked inside. I could smell him. It was, however, not Jimin. Jimin only wore Orange Blossom by Jo Malone. Whoever this was smelled like baby powder and flowers. My guard completely up now, I continued further into the studio and kicked the door closed behind me. Whoever it was, I knew had been standing behind the door. The smell was not as potent as it had been before. 

Going into the kitchen, I shrugged my coat off before throwing it behind me. I heard it hit something and it was a blur after that. I quickly snatched a kitchen knife from the drying rack and threw myself to the ground. The man grabbed my hands. Kicking his inner thigh, I rolled from underneath him and shot up. He threw his arms up.

“Stop!”

Ignoring him, I threw the knife. The man reacted quickly, catching the blade in between his hands before throwing it down on the floor. While he was distracted, I slid on the floor and grabbed the pistol from under my bed. Pointing it at the man, he rolled his eyes dramatically.

“What are you going to do? Shoot me?”

Without saying anything, I aimed for his left shoulder and fired. The silencer muzzled the shot, though the pop was still nasty. It worked better with a pillow added to the equation. I doubted any of my neighbors would notice the sound, however. The man shouted, stumbled back, and leaned against the fridge.

“You shot me,” He exclaimed, shocked.

“Who the fuck are you?” I barked, aimed for his other shoulder.

“You wait to ask me after you-”

I shot again. He gritted his teeth and sank to the floor. The wounds were leaking blood but I tried to not let it bother me. This guy broke into my house. This time, I aimed for his right knee.

“Who are you?” I asked again.

“Jungkook,” The man, Jungkook, answered. “I’m with The Saints.”

Lowering the barrel of the gun, I stared at him for a second. He was with my crew? Since when? 

“Who sent you?” I asked, aiming at his chest now.

If he was going to get found out, he might be more inclined to lunge before I could call anyone.

“Yoongi.”

Slowly, I reached into my back pocket and got my phone. I was relieved the screen hadn’t cracked during the outfall. Slowly, keeping my eyes on Jungkook, I started typing in the number I knew by heart. If he was lucky, Yoongi would pick up. If not, then we weren’t moving until someone did. After the second ring, a rough voice greeted me.

“August.”

Training my gun on his head, I spoke.

“There’s someone claiming they know you in my apartment.”

After a few seconds, Yoongi’s voice was hard when he replied.

“Who is it?”

“Says his name is Jungkook,” I replied evenly.

I was fully prepared to pull the trigger. Jungkook stared the barrel down without fear. I only hoped he would go down quickly and quietly. 

Yoongi sighed harshly, “Fucking Jimin.”

Gripping the handle tightly, I placed my finger on the trigger. I only needed the okay now.

“He’s fine,” Yoongi was annoyed. “I sent Jimin but I guess he got the kid to go instead.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, I put the gun down. Jungkook visibly relaxed then and moaned in pain. Raising a hand, he cradled his left shoulder and hissed in pain. 

“Fucked him up,” I admitted. “He was in my apartment when I got home.”

Yoongi hummed, “Take care of him. He’ll let you know what’s going on. We have a problem.”

He hung up before I could respond.

I hated when he did that. I had no idea who Jungkook was, or what he was here to tell me, but we were on the same team. And I just shot him. Twice. Putting the gun back in its original spot, I reached a little further behind it and retrieved my first aid kit. Jungkook sagged in relief. 

“Sorry,” I apologized, helping him take his shirt off. “Didn’t realize you were with us.”

Jungkook hissed when I applied alcohol to the wounds. It would take me a while to get his patched up, but I was capable of doing it. Years of friendship with The Saints would do that to you. Looking at Jungkook, I was taken aback by how attractive he was.

All of the Saints were good looking, but this guy had an aura about him. His hair was wild, pitch black, and down to his shoulders. His skin was gently tanned with small moles dotted sporadically across his body. What caught my attention the most was the shiny, silver lip ring he donned. That was an oddity in our world.

“My fault, shouldn’t have broken in without a warning,” He replied.

“I saw the bike outside and thought you were Jimin.”

He hummed then winced. I knew those bullets did not feel nice. Taking my time and trying to be gentle, I used a pair of tweezers to get them out. Jungkook bit his lip so hard he drew blood. 

“Yeah,” He breathed out. “Let me borrow it for the ride.”

“Park,” We both knew what I meant by that.

For the next hour we sat in silence. He let me work and I listened to every sharp intake of breath, groan, and moan. I felt guilty about everything, but I also had a certain level of apathy. The guy was nobody to me. Not really. Same crew doesn’t mean we’re friends. Still, if they sent him here then that meant they trusted him enough to come. That told me a lot about him.

After I placed gauze over the stitches, Jungkook finally spoke again.

“Jin hyung said you were harmless,” He chuckled. “I’ll let him know he’s wrong.”

Ignoring his comment, I went to find him something to wear. I doubted he would be able to fit any of my things. He was huge, a tall man with big arms, but I could make something work. Grabbing a loose fitting dress, I threw it to him.

“I don’t have anything for a man, so that will have to do.”

He nodded and put the dress on without complaint.

“I’ll pick up something for you later,” I continued. “Did you come alone?”

Jungkook shook his head, “Hyung’s around. He was going to come but an old friend called so he sent me.”

“Kai?” I wondered, already knowing the answer. 

Jimin and Kai were good friends. They had known one another since they were kids and got involved in crime together. I’d only met the guy in passing the few times he had visited Boston, but I was not very familiar with him. I knew he was a drug runner on the west coast but that was where my knowledge stopped.

“Yeah, said they had business or something.”

I hummed, “Would you like to lay down for a moment?”

Jungkook was very obviously in pain. He tried to deny it for a minute but ultimately took my offer. Going to the fridge, I pulled out a can of Ginger Ale and gave it to him. He accepted it readily.

“Sorry about the gun,” I offered, sitting on the floor. “Jin’s right. I’m usually pretty harmless. I didn’t even own a gun until I left The Saints.”

Jungkook shook his head, “Don’t worry about it. You weren’t expecting company.”

Opening my own drink, I eyed him. He was far too calm. My guess was this was not his first time being shot. Trying to find other wounds was pointless, however, he was too clothed. I hadn’t even thought to check when I was helping him earlier.

“Why’d you come inside anyway?” I asked.

Jungkook grinned ruefully.

“Hyung said he’d call you.”

That pulled a laugh out of me. Park probably forgot about it. For someone as dangerous as he was, he could be irresponsible. I remember when we were scoping a jewelry store together a few years back, Jimin had completely forgotten where the cameras were by the time we left. I had to go back myself a few days later to make sure his guesses were right. We had never let him live it down. Yoongi did not think it was very funny.

“Typical,” I said.

“Yeah.”

Jungkook’s eyes slipped closed. He was so completely at ease in my presence it was unnerving. Taking a sip of my drink, I looked at him in bewilderment. He was so much like Taehyung, trusting and easy going. It was difficult to imagine what role he played in the crew. He could have taken my place but I doubted he was as good. He had come here, hid behind my door, and then ambushed me. Then he was surprised when I acted like he was an enemy. Chuckling, I put my drink down. Yeah, just like Taehyung.

“What’s funny?” He asked, eyes still closed.

Wiping the smile off my face, I replied. “Just thinking.”

We did not talk again. I was sure Jungkook had dozed off, but he kept waking back up again. Getting up, I began looking for some pain medicine to no avail. I had not needed to put myself to sleep in a long time. Grabbing my keys from the floor, I told Jungkook I was heading out for a bit. I got no response. Patting myself down, I knew I did not have my phone and picked it up from beside the bed. Jungkook was lightly snoring.

Slipping from the room, I locked up and went downstairs. Typing in the last number I had for Jimin, I was not surprised that it was no longer in service. He changed phones like you change clothes. Deciding to call Taehyung, I went to my contacts to find him. He was the only person I saved.

“Hello?” His voice was deep and hoarse. 

Glancing at the time, I realized it was much later than I thought. 

“Sorry about the time,” I replied. “It’s Mouse.”

I heard shuffling on the other side. Taehyung had gotten himself a girlfriend, Jennie, and I was almost positive she was relatively clueless about his life. The last time I talked to Hoseok, he had said she thought he was a tech guy who was helping a start up. He must have been with her now if his silence was anything to go by.

“Sorry,” He said, voice low. “I’m not alone.”

“I just need Park’s number and you can get back to bed.”

Saying the numbers slowly, I typed them into my keypad as I made my way through the dark streets. 

“Thanks,” I stopped walking once I got to the gas station around the corner. “Get some sleep.”

“It was good to hear your voice,” He replied, more awake than he had been. “I’ll be seeing you.”

“Night, V.”

“Night, Mouse.”

Hanging up, I stuffed my phone into my back pocket and walked into the store. It was deserted except for the cashier. Giving me a stiff nod, I ignored the man before going to the back of the store and getting some bottled water. I never trusted the tap in the building. Afterwards, I got a bottle of Nyquil and Advil before going to the register.

“Let me get a pack of Marlboro Black Menthols,” I told the cashier.

Taking out my phone, I took my ID from the attached wallet as well as my debit card. The man held the pack of cigarettes and took my ID. Briefly looking it over, he scanned the barcode before scanning the cigarettes. Handing the ID back to me, he began scanning my other items before bagging them.

“Your total is $26.87.”

Nodding, I inserted my card and typed my pin. Putting my card back into the small wallet, I put my phone into my pocket and took the bag.

“Have a good night,” I said.

“You too,” He replied.

Leaving the store, I opened up my keypad and pressed the call button. Jimin picked up after four rings.

“Hello?” He answered, voice brightly and bubbly.

He always answered unknown numbers like that just in case. Jimin always prioritized having the upper hand over anything else. Anyone looking for Park would never connect him to the voice on the other side. I, however, was familiar enough with him to see through the facade.

“You got your boy hit,” I said, cutting right to the chase. “I had to give him a dress and Nyquil after popping two in him.”

Jimin laughed loudly, his fake voice gone. This was why we were friends. Our senses of humor were far too warped due to our upbringings. In another world we would have been enemies belonging to different clans, but I liked this timeline far more. Park was a great guy when you looked past the insecurities, anger issues, and tendency to seek violence.

“Jungkook’s wearing a dress?” He exclaimed, still laughing. “God, you have to take a picture for me.”

I rolled my eyes, “Explain why he’s here. I would ask him but I stepped out to get some medicine for him.”

Jimin’s laughter abruptly cut off. That feeling of dread returned. If Park was getting serious then that meant whatever the situation was must be more than I thought it would be. I was expecting them to need me to help them with a heist, but I was getting the feeling it might be more than that. Jimin sighed.

“I can’t get into specifics right now, but you need to get the fuck out of California.”

Going up the stairs of my complex, I paused. 

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re not safe here anymore.”

Growing angry, I shouted. “Enough with the cryptic messages, Park!”

Continuing to go up, I kept looking around every corner I went to. This was the worst fucking timing I could have had. Things were finally going well for me, I had friends and a job that I actually liked, and I had to give it all up again. Tears filling my eyes, I shoved open my door and slammed it behind me.

“I told you I can’t get into specifics, but there’s a reason I’m with Kai right now. You and Jungkook need to get out of that apartment as soon as possible. I don’t care where you go but you need to leave.”

Jungkook sprung up when I kicked the edge of my bed. Pointing to my phone, I mouth ‘Jimin.’ Getting on my knees, I pulled out my duffle bag from underneath the bed and threw it at the other man. He looked at me when he stood up. I noticed the way he winced and held up the bag in my hand.

“Copy,” Was all I replied.

“Get to Boston. Don’t take the truck.”

“Give me something to work with,” I demanded, taking the Advil out of the bag and tossing it to Jungkook. “I can’t be blind.”

“Cмерть не за горами.”

My entire world stopped spinning. I could hear my heart beating, feel my lungs pushing the air out of my body, while my eyes were frozen. Every single inch of my skin shivered, goosebumps springing up, and I broke out into a cold sweat. This was no heist. 

Hanging up on Jimin, I went to the window above my bed and opened it. Throwing the phone as far as I could, I turned to find Jungkook waiting for instructions. Staring at him, I decided to take a leap of faith.

“Ты один из нас?” I asked.

Jungkook raised an eyebrow at me. “What?”

Gritting my teeth, I snatched the duffle from him. Jungkook continued waiting for me to tell him what to do. I pointed to my bathroom.

“Take everything from the mirror cabinet and put it in the bag. After that, grab what you can from the wardrobe and stuff it. Only take one pair of shoes and a pair of heels. That’s all I’ll need.”

He got to work quickly. Going back to the bed, I took out my gun and the spare ammo I kept locked up at the very back corner. Placing the ammo in the duffle, I took my first aid kit from the kitchen floor and tossed it in as well. 

“Do you have a gun?” I asked Jungkook.

“Yeah,” He replied. “It’s in the jacket downstairs. I thought you would feel more comfortable if I wasn’t armed.”

Packing my small makeup collection, I felt myself shutting down. Bad girls don’t have feelings, and I was fucking heartless. Yes, I told myself, heartless. It was harder to pretend now than it had been, I was rusty and in desperate need of a distraction. The thought of finding my old family in the shadows was always frightening, but the thought of them looking for me was far more unsettling.

“Done,” Jungkook announced.

Realizing I had zoned out, I quickly put my makeup in the duffle bag and closed it. I had no time to dwell or be afraid. Heartless, Mouse, Heartless. I hated that name. Shaking my head, I pulled myself together enough to sling the duffle over my shoulder. Jungkook went to take it but I held my hand up.

“You’re not carrying this with your injuries. Just take that bag and this-” I handed him my gun. “I don’t know how quick you are but it’s probably better than me. I’m rusty.”

He nodded and we made our way down the stairs. Thinking, I began to categorize the cars that were in the parking lot and on the street. My truck was near the front but the streets were shrouded in light at this time. Jungkook’s bike was also out front. The back had security cameras but was pitch black at this time. I decided the front was the risk I was more willing to take and went through the hallway door on the first floor. Passing the doors, I paid no mind to Jungkook. He was capable and stayed in step with me effortlessly. 

We would drive for a few hours, probably stopping at a diner so I could get another car, and keep going until we hit Arizona or New Mexico. I had not decided yet. Going out the front doors, I waved Jungkook away while I walked down the street. He went to get his jacket but left the bike behind. He was back beside me in a few seconds. 

Crossing the street, I had my eyes on a Honda Accord parked on the curb. It was definitely a ‘97 model. I could start her up in a heartbeat. Unzipping one of the side pockets of my bag, I pulled out a switchblade and zipped it back up. Going to the driver’s side, Jungkook stayed at my back while I tried the handle. To my surprise, it opened. Stepping to the side, I gently tapped Jungkook’s back. Turning, he quickly shoved the gun into the backseat as I opened the door. After seeing that the coast was clear, I motioned for him to go around the car while I popped the truck. He said it was fine.

Nodding at him, I got into the car. Kicking the steering wheel, I heard the column lock break before swapping the ECUs. Taking my knife, I ripped off the lower center cover. Getting back out of the car, I opened the backseat and threw my duffle inside. Putting my knife back in its pocket, I opened the long side pocket along the front and pulled out my old screwdriver. This was far from the first jacking I had done.

Getting back into the car, I began to pry the steel cover away. Asking Jungkook for a light, I waited while he pulled out his phone from the pocket of the red jacket. He was lucky no one had taken it. With the flashlight on, I turned the switch from off, past run, to start. The car came to life instantaneously. Waving the light away, I threw the screwdriver into the center console and placed the car in drive. Finally closing the driver’s side door, I peeled off into the night.

The radio came to life and Amy Winehouse sang loudly as I got onto the I-5.

“Til’ the chips were down

Know you were a gambling man.

Love is a losing hand.”

Jungkook was very quiet. I had just followed exit sounds and continued to drive toward Arizona. It was the least exciting state, and the people who lived there were far too judgemental outside of Phoenix, but it was the best way to get to the airport. That airport was far too big and strangely laid out that I knew we would be difficult to pick out in a crowd. Glazing over at Jungkook, he was holding the pack of cigarettes I had bought earlier.

“They’re for Jimin,” I suddenly said, switching lanes. “They were his favorite last time I saw him.”

“I think he’s smoking Camels now,” Jungkook replied.

“Can’t win them all.”

Sighing, I relaxed a bit more in my seat. So far, we have not been followed. Then again, I could be missing something. Tracking was not a strong suit of mine, and in my experience, the Russians were very, very evasive when they wanted to be. Still, I allowed myself a moment to breathe. 

“How do you know the boys in Brighton?” Jungkook asked, voice quiet and soft.

I thought about it for a moment. It was a rather long story, but knowing that we were familiar with the same people made it feel easier. Deciding to probe him for information first, I formed a plan in my head on how to go about this conversation.

“Have you ever heard of the person called Pыбка?” I asked, my American accent showing through. It had been a very, very long time since I had spoken Russian, and even then it had always been a second language that I learned from my time with the Shulaya.

“Ivan’s girl, right? The one who was murdered a few years back? What about her?”

Sparing him a quick glance, I spoke.

“Do I look dead to you?”

Jimin and I had known one another longer than anyone else in The Saints. He had been the last person to join the crew, and was deep within the Shulaya before he went to Jersey to join Hoseok’s team. I would never forget the look on his face the first time he saw me, or the fact that it took him all of ten minutes to get fully committed to keeping me safe. Everyone called me Mouse. Jin had come up with it after joking about me being able to live in someone’s attic and they would never know. It caught on and it was the only name anyone on the streets knew about. The ‘Little Fish’ of Shulaya long forgotten after the first two years of hiding. However, it seemed like my face had been seen by somebody and Ivan was not happy about my disappearing act. 

“Holy shit,” Jungkook said in awe. “We’re so fucked.”

I laughed, “Have some faith. Ivan is scary, but he’s also impulsive. I know him better than most and trust me- he doesn’t know how to keep his cool. Between Boston and NYC, I doubt he’ll get very far into their territory without raising hell.”

Jungkook made a strange noise.

“I’d be far more afraid of Yoongi than any of those Wiseguys.”

Scoffing, I saw the exit I needed to take in order to pull up at the last Holiday Inn before the long stretch of nothing at all. Jungkook seemed to see where my mind was going and began to look out of the window. After briefly going over what food options we had, we landed on Taco Bell. 

Ordering our food was simple enough. Jungkook was a huge tomato hater and was very upset to find that his Crunch Wrap had been ‘ruined.’ The motel seemed to have a few quests and I hoped we could get a room. Jungkook offered to pay. The frontdesk lady was kind and found us a room within 5 minutes. 

Using the elevator, I asked Jungkook if he still had the ‘thing’ with him. He nodded but said no more. It was probably better that way. Throwing my duffle bag onto my bed, I realized that Jungkook was still wearing a dress with the pants he had come inside in. 

Digging through my bag, I found a pair of sweatpants that would fit him well enough as well as an oversized nightshirt I rarely ever wore. I usually slept naked. Tonight, I will try to make my partner feel comfortable.

Throwing the clothes on his bed, Jungkook perked up a bit and seemed to be fine with their sizes. I wondered if he had been wearing more uncomfortable clothes at one time and shook my head. He had walked into this motel wearing that. Yes, Y/N, he has definitely been far more uncomfortable than tightly sweats. 

“You can take the bathroom first,” I pointed to the door. “You need it more than I do.”

Jungkook nodded, “Would you mind helping me get out of this thing? It still hurts to move my arms around too much.

Looking at him, I pinned him with an unimpressed look. We were not having one of those moments. Still looking at Jungkook, I unzipped the pouching with my switchblade in it and pulled the knife out. Walking to Jungkook, I quickly worked on the right side of the fabric. The left side was even quicker. Gently lifting his arm just enough to see his armpit, I cut the short sleeve from the bottom, following up with the top, and up the high neckline. Repeating it on the other side, the blood-soaked garment pooling to the floor. 

Jungkook seemed frozen. Looking at his face, his eyes were wide and staring at the blade in my hand. Thinking he might be uncomfortable with me standing so close to him with a weapon, I walked back to my bed.

“If you need help getting the shirt on, just let me know.”

“Thanks,” Jungkook replied.

Picking up the spare clothes, he walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. The water was on a few seconds later. Fully alone in the room, I looked around and decided to throw out the dress. With the torn up dress safely put away in my duffle, I tried to figure out what to do while I waited. 

Taking Jungkook’s phone off of his bed (he used a flip phone just like Yoongi did on the job), I quickly found my way to the contacts. Hovering over Jimin’s number, I paused. Not thinking about it for too long, I pressed it and placed my phone to my ear. He answered quickly.

“Where are you?” Jimin asked, voice very low.

“Are you safe to talk?” I replied, voice just as low.

I could hear the way Jimin rolled his eyes, a small groan leaving his lips.

“I’m fine,” His voice was still soft. “I’m at a casino right now. Did you steal his phone?”

My blood ran cold. Most of our guys loved gambling, but Jimin had always thought it was a dumb pastime. I knew Ivan had been trying to expand the Russian influence in Los Angeles, and I hoped that he knew what he was doing. Jimin tended to run into situations without contemplating everything. Instead of grilling him, I decided to ease his worries.

“We’re safe. Heading east.” I looked around the room distractedly. “And no. I’m using it while he’s taking a shower.”

Jimin sighed in relief, “Kook is a good guy. He’ll keep you safe long enough to make it back to Boston. I’ll be on my way back in a few hours.”

It was better to keep things vague. Just like I had not said where we were headed, Jimin’s answer could mean anything. I heard Jungkook cry out but he was quiet soon after. I hoped the work I had done was keeping. I had told him to keep the stitches covered.

“See you soon,” I forced a smile on my face. “I got you a pack of cigarettes.”

Jimin laughed, though it sounded more forced than normal.

“Stay safe. I have to go.”

I hung up without another word. If he had to go then he had to go. The shower was still running and I was bored again. Looking at the door, I was tempted to walk around for a while. I had a feeling I would get myself into trouble if I did, but I was curious to see if I could get some extra clothes for Jungkook. Possibly a set of car keys, too. Looking at the bathroom door, I figured he was going to be there for a while.

“Fuck it,” I said under my breath.

Getting my room key, I slipped out of the room quietly. 

The hallway was deserted, not a body in sight, but I had a feeling I could get something if I looked hard enough. Going to the elevator, I spotted a young couple laughing. Slowing my walk, I was happy to see that they were getting on the elevator.

Angling my body, I was practically jumping up and down when my eye caught on their room key. This would be too easy. The elevator chimed signaling someone was getting off. Quickly moving my body, I relied on their clinginess to sneak into the corridor without a problem. A group of people pooled out of the elevator and I drifted into their numbers.

The couple stood to the side and waited for us to pass. Using my foot, I tripped a young woman in front of me. She stumbled while I placed myself in a position to trip over her. The both of us dropped. The woman fell into the man. Falling, I shuffled closer to the man’s hand while the woman began apologizing profusely.

Quickly snatching the card from him, I slipped it into my pocket while I stood up. Adjusting my clothes, I quickly apologized as well. The couple waved the both of us off, seemingly unbothered, before getting on the elevator. Nodding to the woman, I turned toward the way the couple had come from. Looking at the keycard, I made my way toward the door with the number on it. I was lucky the woman and I had similar hair styles, but I was aware of Holiday Inn well enough to say that most of their cameras did not work.

Glancing up at the camera in the middle of the hallway, I was positive it was not working. Typically there would be a small, red dot that showed it was recording. Today, it was off. Letting myself in, I knew I had to be quick and clean.

Tonight I would only get clothes. Car keys were something I would have to snatch in the morning over breakfast. Someone would notice their keys missing in the middle of the night. Locating a large, black suitcase on the floor by the foot of the bed, I pulled it up onto the bed and unzipped it.

Carefully sifting through the clothes, I only pulled out enough for two outfits before gently placing everything back smoothly. They would probably be a bit big on Jungkook, but I doubted he would mind very much. I swore he was wearing a belt, but I had not been paying enough attention to know for sure. 

Going to the pockets of the bag, I was happy to find a container of hair pomade and hoped it might make Jungkook happy. He would be able to do his hair if he wanted. Grabbing a pack of hair bands and a pair of boxers, I was ready to leave. Going into the dresser, I pulled out the complimentary bag they gave every guest, I shoved the clothes in it before leaving the room. With the keycard in my hand, I dropped it in the spot the couple had been before making my way back to my own room.

Jungkook was sitting on his bed drying his hair when I came in. He was wearing the sweatpants and t-shirt I had given him. I was glad he was able to get it on alone, but I felt bad I had not been here to help him. Holding up the bag, I tossed it his way.

“The first robbery I’ve done in four years,” I shook my head. “You should feel special.”

Jungkook opened the bag and grinned at me. His hair went just past his shoulders when it was wet, his fluffy curls weighed down by the water. Sifting through the bag, he seemed the happiest about the hair ties. 

Getting my own clothes, I let him know I was going to take a shower. Getting under the hot water was a healing experience, and for the first time today I let a few tears slip out.

I was terrified, frustrated, but mostly- pissed.

Twelve years ago

Hands bound, I let my body relax. Ivan’s eyes were blazing, his anger palpable, but I refused to look away. He would never think I was weak again. Walking closer, the Russian yanked me up roughly, one of the straps of my sundress breaking.

“What the fuck did you do?” He seethed, his accent thick and almost incoherent through gritted teeth. “You always ruin everything you touch.”

Slowly, and with great care, I pooled spit into my mouth. With a quick gurgle, I spit in Ivan’s eye. My rebellion had angered just as much as it had excited Ivan. The thought made me sick to my stomach. I wanted to be as far away from him as possible, his hands burning my skin. Slamming me down, Ivan roared in anger before delivering a swift kick to my stomach.

Gasping, I tried my hardest to keep the vomit down. I refused to give him the satisfaction. I wished I was with Alexei. He would never have treated me like this. As if the thought had transferred over to the man beside me, he kicked me again.

“Alexei is dead, Лох,” He shouted. “You’re mine now.”

With another swift kick, I cried out. Then, without warning my stomach twisted. Another kick. Finally, I threw up all over the concrete floor beneath me. 

For now. I was yours for now.

Present

With a new set of car keys in my hand, I walked into the parking lot. Jungkook was on the phone, but quickly hung up when he saw me approaching. Raising an eyebrow at him, I waved him over and we began walking together. Clicking the unlock button, I smiled when I saw the yellow Porsche. The two of us placed our things inside without a care in the world and drove off quickly after. 

I had found the targets for today the night before while walking around the hotel late last night. It was a young woman and her mother. The two of them had been a whirlwind and gave the staff hell. Unable to sleep, my head headaches from exhaustion, and their bickering only pissed me off more. Unfortunately for them, they had made a big show of their money and decided to brag about their car.

It took a few minutes to switch out license plates and even less time to steal her car keys this morning during breakfast. They were staying for another day and had not planned on leaving the hotel at all. Jungkook laughed once we were a safe distance away.

“I’m still in shock at that woman’s entitlement,” He shook his head. “Did you see the way she flipped out when they ran out of bacon before her ‘precious angel’ could get any?”

Chuckling, I kept my attention on the road.

“Her attitude was the only reason I swiped this thing. I would never get into something so obvious.”

“It was as easy as stealing candy from a baby.”

Feeling confident from the jacking, I decided to play along.

“Do you steal from babies often?”

Jungkook giggled cutely, “I’ve cut down to twice a year.”

“Oh?”

“Halloween-” He counted with one finger, and lifted another, “-and Easter.”

“Easter?” My eyebrows pulled in as I laughed incredulously.

Jungkook grinned lazily. 

“Stockings are so last year.”

It was becoming increasingly more difficult to think of him as a member of the mafia. While my age had made others test my abilities far more often than the others I never believed anyone doubted who I was. There was a look in your eye, this coldness, that separated you from the rest. I could pick out a killer in a line up- we were one in the same. However, Jungkook was impossible to get a read on. His boyish charms and good looks were not uncommon, but the innocence in his smile and the brightness that remained in his eyes were unsettling. Everything about him was unnerving. He was disarming and that alone was frightening.

Realizing the car had become quiet, I turned the radio on. It was a habit of mine. I did not like the silence. I hated it. Some trashy pop song blasted but I did not care. Jungkook did and began to look for something he liked more.

“What do you like?” He asked, pressing the screen to change the stations.

“Pick whatever,” I replied, flipping off the guy who cut me off.

Arizona was the worst state I had ever been to. The drive was not as awful as Texas, nothing will ever beat the twelve hours of hell to still be in that damned state, but it was not much better. Outside of Phoenix the towns were not as grand. Tucson gave her a run for her money, but never came close to the busy city. Driving through the desert, I asked Jungkook to pull up the directions to the airport. I no longer knew my way.

“How did you meet the guys?” I asked, eyes on the road.

Jungkook picked a pop station and leaned back in his seat.

“Through Jimin,” He replied. “They needed help dealing with someone. I had just left New York and we ran into each other in Vegas. I liked everyone so I decided to join.”

Raising an eyebrow, I quickly turned my head so he could see my expression.

“Ivan let you leave?”

“I wasn’t a member,” Jungkook mumbled. “Just an acquaintance. I was for hire.”

That was not what I had expected. Jungkook did not seem like a killer, but I had been proven wrong many times. When I lived with my parents I had met many assassins I would have never guessed who they were just looking at them. Even talking with them it was impossible to detect. Looking at the man, I found it hard to believe that we were from the same background. While I had ran from that life, Jungkook ran toward it with open arms. In fact, he seemed to pay it little mind.

“What family are you from?” I asked. “My family was under The Table.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows shot up.

“You’re from the Underground?”

I nodded, “I never really wanted that life. I’m a much better thief anyway.”

Jungkook rubbed his bottom lip. I forced myself to focus on the road. Even if we were the only people out here, I did not want to risk anything. I had stolen the car and the plate and getting stuck out here would be hell.

“I’m with Sacarii.”

The Sacarii was the sister organization to The Table. While my family had mostly dealt with members of gangs and high profile families, members of the Sacarii were the people who went after other assassins. Stealing another look at Jungkook, I looked at the tattoos on his arm and tried to find his symbol. All of us got one, mine was a tiger on my right side, but the ink was too difficult to look at while driving.

“I have a tiger lily,” Jungkook said, noticing my assessment. “I have a few of them, actually.”

Lilies are from Japan, but I knew Jungkook was Korean. His name alone gave him away. Waving my hand, I asked him to explain when he got it.

“My family moved to Japan when I was fifteen. I had my first kill there so we decided that I would get something to represent that. The prayer hands on my back were done by the organization after the ordainment.”

Ordainments were very common. It was the process an assassin went through to become an official member of their organization. Their families were no longer defined by blood but the common experiences each one shared. The Table and the Sacarii were one big family, but oftentimes we did not get along with one another. Civil at best and competition at worst. Prayer hands with a rosary were the tattoos everyone got. It was large, covering the entire center of the back, with the family oath written above and below it. 

“I never got mine,” I admitted. “I ran off before my ceremony. That’s when I met Alexei.”

“How old were you?”

Smiling sadly, I replied. “Thirteen.”

“Oh,” He said. “I didn’t know they got people that young.”

“Well, he saw me kill someone and wanted to keep me. I doubt you knew him- he died a few years ago.”

Jungkook nodded, “Yeah. What was he like?”

Laughing, I spotted a gas station and decided to stop. We were at half a tank, but I wanted to be safe. Jungkook took out his wallet and handed me a twenty. 

“He was a better man than his brother,” I answered, taking the money. “He knew how to stay calm and respect other people. Alexei always kept good relationships with the other families. Ivan is an idiot who can’t handle criticisms of any kind.”

“He’s that awful? I mean, I only know him through brief meetings.”

“I’d rather be dead than serve him again,” I opened my door. “But you already know that.”

Settling in my seat, I glanced over at Jungkook. He looked tired and I let him know it was fine to sleep. He nodded and slipped his eyes closed shortly after. Taking my new phone out of my pocket, I decided to make a quick phone call before we took off. Jungkook and I had picked up a flip phone from Walmart on our way to the airport. It was more secure than any smartphone. Dialing the number, I waited.

“Hello?” Hoseok picked up.

“I’m landing in Massachusetts,” I replied, knowing he was aware of the situation by now. It had been a day and a half. “Pick me up at our spot.”

“Jin will be there.”

“Copy.”

Hoseok sighed heavily, “Is the kid okay? Heard you shook him up.”

Glancing at Jungkook, I was shocked he was snoring. 

“He’s fine,” I replied. “He’s definitely in pain, and tries to keep his movement to a minimum, but hides it from me. Attempts to, I should say.  I took care of him as best I could but Agust should get his hands on his ASAP.”

Hoseok hummed and I knew he was nodding. He was a very animated, lively person and could not sit still for long. He got into a fist fight with a Russian who took offense to his hand movements. 

“See you when I see you.”

“Three o’clock,” I said before hanging up.

Sliding my phone back into my pocket, I finally buckled my seat. Shaking Jungkook awake, I told him to put his belt on. He grinned at me lazily before doing it. He fell asleep again quickly. 

Happy to have a window seat, I watched as we began to take off. It had been a while since I was on a plane. The last time was when I was running to California as quickly as I could. Kansas had been nice when I had first left The Saints, but it quickly became suffocating. The silence and mundane town life made my skin crawl. California had seemed like it would be better, more fun, but it had become just as mundane after a while. 

I had always gotten bored easily. It was why I enjoyed pickpocketing. As a kid, my little hands and unassuming looks had made it easy. I never planned on getting good at it. At the time it felt less damning in comparison to what the people in my life wanted me to do. 

There was a time when I was happy killing, pleasing my family had always felt good, but that faded when my teenage years approached. Running away to New York was a quick, impulsive decision I had made when I was afraid of my future. Staring at the clear, blue sky, I scoffed. 

I had run away from one hell into another. I went from that one into another. The Saints were my family, but I would be lying if I said I felt they were any different from what I had always done. Kansas had been my first attempt at normalcy, and San Diego had been me living in that world.

And I loved it, in my own way. It was nice to have a routine. It felt good to have friends, even if they were the most surface level friendships I could allow myself to have, and I owned my own things. I had earned what I had. 

Now I was flying back to a place I was not sure I belonged anymore. I felt two halves of myself fighting one another. One half wanted to run again, to disappear, and get as far away from this place as possible. Then there was the other side of me, the twisted, dark, nasty side of myself that was reveling in all of this. My excitement was hard for me to figure out, and I began to doubt myself.

Had I ever really wanted this life? Has it all been a dream? A fantasy of a perfectly serene, normal, and legal lifestyle I had never known? Finding a cloud, I rubbed my temples and sighed. 

I doubted I would ever have an answer to that question.

Five years ago

Standing around the table, all of us went over the plan again. They were doing construction on the roof, so that would be the quickest, and easiest, point of entrance. I would go first while Hoseok and Jin dressed as police officers to take out the security guards in the back. Taehyung would take care of the cameras before this. Yoongi would follow behind me along with Jimin. I would lead the team after we had taken over the museum.

Looking over at Jimin, he was already looking at me. Everyone knew that this would be my last mission, and he had taken it the worst. We hardly spoke and he actively ignored me. I was surprised he was acknowledging me at all. Breaking eye contact, I went back to explaining the pieces we would be taking.

“Don was very specific about these three pieces,” I said, pointing to the Rembrandt and two pieces of jewelry. “These are our high payouts. Get these first. After that we can make quick work of the rest.”

“Who did you say the others were going to?” Yoongi asked.

“The rest are split up between some vendors I know,” I replied. “Freddie Newman, Diane Pollack, and Dwayne Smith. The jewels are for Georgie Boy, Archie, and two others. Park’s handling that.”

“This is a big job,” Hoseok mumbled. “Will the six of us be able to get it done?”

I nodded easily. 

“Yes, we’ll have all the time in the world once those guards are taken care of. I’m planning on this being an hour- two at most.”

Looking back at Jimin, I was happy to see he was grinning at me. We would be fine. Deciding we had gone over everything, I walked away from the table. 

“We’ll leave at midnight.”

“Copy,” Jimin replied.

Smiling to myself, I left the room and went to the kitchen to find something to eat.

Getting off the plane, I kept Jungkook close as we made our way to baggage claim. Being on the East Coast again was uncomfortable. I knew this airport like the back of my hand, knew every nook and cranny of these streets, but I still felt out of place. I was even more unsettled knowing there were people looking for me. 

Standing by the conveyor belt, we waited for my duffle bag to come out. Jungkook looked around, his scouting looking natural, and I kept my eyes on the bags. It came out a few minutes later, and I slung it over my shoulder. Jungkook wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into him.

“They’re here,” He whispered, a soft smile on his face. Lips brushing the top of my head, he started walking and kept me close. “They don’t know me, so we’ll be fine.”

Forcing a smile on my face, I wrapped my arm around his waist. My heartbeat quickened, and I found myself enjoying the way his body pressed into mine. Allowing myself a small glance around us, I saw two familiar faces near the escalators. Dimitri and Anton. As we neared the escalators, I knew they would notice me unless I acted very differently than what they remembered. 

Deciding to commit to our charade, I lifted my head up towards Jungkook. Kissing his cheek, I was able to hide my face from the two men. Jungkook stepped onto the elevator first. Turning him to face me, I grabbed his face and pressed our lips together. He was soft, gentle, and tasted like the licorice he’d gotten on the plane. He wrapped his arms around my waist and melted into the kiss. Pulling away, head pressed against his, I looked at the steps. 

“We’re almost at the top,” I mumbled.

Jungkook nodded and slowly moved away from me. Angling his body towards the front, he kept an arm firmly around my waist as we got to the top. Sparing a single glance behind me, the two men were none the wiser. Smirking, I ran my hand up and down Jungkook’s back in silent praise. 

Walking further and further away from the others, Jungkook’s arm did not move. I stayed close to his side, happy to have someone to lean on. It made sense now. Jimin sent him because he was less known to the others. Ivan would know him, and the people closest to him, but someone like Anton would be blindsided by his presence. They were expecting one of my boys. Stepping into the sun, the two of us were quick to hail down a taxi and slip inside. 

“We’re running a bit late,” I announced, buckling in. “Can you take us to the Hood Milk Bottle?”

“No problem,” The cab driver replied.

It was barely a 10 minute drive, but airport traffic made it feel like forever. Jungkook and I did not talk. Our closeness from earlier was officially stopped, and I felt silly for missing his warmth. Looking at him out of the corner of my eye, I grew shy. Just moments ago, his arms were wrapped around me. Catching sight of the tiger lily on his elbow, I had to quickly look back out of the window.

God, he was fucking hot.

Pulling out my phone, I found a new message on it. 

Unknown: Eating a lobster roll outside

Rolling my eyes, I replied.

Y/N: Of course you are. Two minutes.

Unknown: Lunch on me

Flipping the phone closed, I shoved it back in my back pocket. Looking out of the window, I did feel nostalgic. It had been such a long time and yet things stayed the same. There were a few new shops where old ones used to be, but the places I remembered the most fondly were still around. The mixed feelings I had were beginning to weigh down on me. 

Pulling up, I smiled. Hood was such an iconic, fun place. Looking back at Jungkook, I was touched to see him paying the cabby. Saying goodbye, the two of us got out of the car. The duffle had been in my lap. Jungkook stared up at the giant milk bottle in awe.

“Jin said he'll buy us lunch.”

Jungkook smirked, “What do you recommend?”

Walking toward the snack stand, I shrugged my shoulders.

“I’m getting a lobster roll, but if you’re not into that, the soft serve is great.”

Walking around the side, I saw Jin sitting on one of the picnic benches eating. I was more surprised to see he was still enjoying his food than the purple hair. Jimin must have convinced him to do that. Whistling, I smirked at Jin and waved.

Jin was the oldest out of all of us, and spoke the least amount of English, but we were close. Standing, he offered me a hug which I happily accepted. Clearing my throat, I began speaking in Korean.

“You look nice,” I ruffled his hair. “This color looks really good on you.”

“Thanks,” He shoved my hand away. “Lobster roll? Thought you might have missed the New England taste.”

Nodded, I turned to Jungkook.

“What do you want?” I asked in English.

He shook his head at me, “Chocolate ice cream.”

When he spoke Korean, his voice was much deeper. Grinning at him, I looked back at Jin.

“One lobster roll and one chocolate soft serve.”

Going to order our food, Jin told us to sit and wait. Jungkook sat down next to me, his elbow on the table with his head resting on his fist. I was unsure of what to make of the look on his face. He seemed so… fond of me. No one had ever really looked at me like that before. I was used to anger, annoyance, or fear, but fondness was uncharted territory. The closest person I could think of had been Alexi, but even then he had always looked at me as a child. Jungkook did not.

“I didn’t know you spoke Korean,” He said, speaking the language.

“I know a lot of languages,” I replied. “I’m mostly fluent in English and Russian. My Korean is good, but I’m not fluent by any stretch of the imagination. I speak a decent amount of Spanish as well.”

“That’s so cool. Mine are Korean, Japanese, and English.”

Jin was back with our food. 

“Eat it in the car,” He said, “Everyone is waiting for us.”

“Is Park back in town?” Jungkook asked.

Jin shook his head, “Not yet. We haven’t heard from since yesterday.”

I knew we would talk more once we were out of the public eye. There was only so much we could say out here. Taking my roll, I followed Jin. Jungkook ate his ice cream happily, his eyes sparkling with joy. It was my turn to smile fondly. 

Pulling into a small driveway, I was confused. I did not recognize the house. Painted a calming sky blue with black shutters, a well-groomed lawn, and a small flower garden, it was unassuming and plain. Looking over at Jungkook, he seemed happy to be here. 

“Where are we?” I asked.

Jungkook smiled at me, “Yoongi’s.”

Taken aback, I froze. That had been the last person I had thought of. The last time I had seen everyone, Yoongi and Hoseok were living in a shitty condo in South End. While I was confused, and even unsettled, by the changes I was also pleased. It felt good to see Yoongi living more civilly. I wondered what had changed.

Hopping out of the Jeep, I met up with Jin and Jungkook at the hood before following behind them. The house was pristine and the small cul de sac was quiet. Eyes bulging out of my head, I fought back the urge to laugh out loud at the sight of a bird feeder on the edge of the lawn. 

Standing on the small porch, the three of us huddled close together. Jungkook gently moved my body in front of his, successfully shielding my body from the street. Leaning back slightly, I brushed my back against his chest quickly before straightening my back. I was beginning to lean into my growing attraction, but knew better than to take it any further than small touches. The airport had been for survival- nothing more. 

Jin knocked, the rhythm the only familiar thing about this place, before the door swung open. On the other side, a woman peered out at us. Her hair was short, wildly frizzy with unkempt curls, and bright red. Her eyes were brown and skin alabaster. The green dress she wore looked nice on her full figure. She smiled brightly at Jin, saying hello with joy. Her voice had hints of an accent but it was too faint for me to pick up.

“It’s nice to see you Johanna,” Jin greeted, kissing the woman’s cheek before gesturing towards me. “Johanna, Mouse. Mouse, Johanna.”

The red head gave me a polite smile before offering her hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mouse.”

“Y/N,” I corrected, glaring at Jin. “Y/N is fine outside of business.”

“This is business though, isn’t it?” Johanna tilted her head at me, a mischievous glint in her eye. I decided right away that I liked her. “Come in. Hello Kookie.”

“Hey Jo,” The man replied.

Stepping inside, I looked around. The inside was just as perfect as the outside. Brightly colored walls with pops of color scattered around, mostly in the art hanging on the walls, with plants everywhere. It smelled like apple cinnamon and Pinesol. The hardwood floors were loud as we walked along them. The size of the living room was bigger than my entire apartment. Catching sight of a collage of photos, I looked over them the best I could as I walked.

All of them were nice photos, family photos, but one caught my eye. Yoongi was smiling, a rare sight, and his eyes were shining brightly. He was on the beach, arms wrapped around Johanna tenderly, while she had a large bouquet of flowers in her hand. She wore a white dress that hit her just at the ankle, a long, thin veil clipped onto the back of her head. The Saints were there along with a few people I did not recognize. Belatedly, I realized that I was looking at a wedding picture. A wedding I had missed. A wedding I had never been invited to. A wedding I had never even knew. Eyes glued to the photo, I cause a glimpse of Jungkook in a far-off corner, almost completely cut out, but he had been there. 

I knew my hurt feelings were unjustified. I had been the one who told them to leave me out of their affairs. I had said emergencies only. Still, I found myself growing increasingly alienated. I truly had no place here anymore. The only purpose I had ever served was monetary gain. The friendships I had built along the way were as fickle as the ones I had in New York. 

Arguing with myself, I struggled to stay present. As we walked deeper into the house, the need to run presented itself all over again. Everything I had known was gone. Everyone was different. Everything was different. Sparing a glance over at Jungkook, a seed of resentment began to grow in my chest. 

No one had ever referred to me as affectionately as they had Jungkook. No one had ever seemed endeared by my failures. Hell, none of these guys even acknowledged my feelings half the time. Staring at the back of Johanna’s head, I found that I didn't really like her that much anymore. She was loved. I was tolerated.

Still, I told myself that they had come for me. They had wanted to keep me safe. And yet, the insecurities that had always lived in my head reared their ugly head and reminded me that it was for their own good. I was useful. As long as I would be of use to them, then I would be protected. It would never be the same reasons they would fight for Johanna. They would fight for her because they wanted to keep her safe.

I could feel eyes on me, but I ignored them. I did not want comfort from Jungkook. I just wanted to get this over with so I could go back to San Diego. Even if they were surface level, those friendships were still more loving than whatever the fuck I had here. I hated Boston. I hated New York. I hated the entire East Coast. 

“Y/N?” Johanna called out, looking back at me with concern. “Are you alright?”

Nodding, I replied. 

“I’m fine. Just lost in my head.”

I hated the edge my voice had taken on. I hated just how much I had to control myself around these people. I wanted to scream, shout, cry; whatever. I just wanted to feel myself lose control for a little while. The woman did not believe me but offered me a smile regardless. 

“I asked if you would like a drink.”

“Water’s fine,” I replied.

Jin seemed suspicious of me but said nothing at all. He had always known I liked my space. Still, I could tell he was worried. I knew my thoughts were out of line, I knew that I was over thinking and attempting to overcompensate, but it was impossible to stop it from happening. The downward spiral was difficult to manage. 

Suddenly, an arm was wrapped around my shoulder. Jumping, I whipped my head around to see Jungkook smiling at me. It was a goofy smile, one that he pulled when he was feeling playful, before he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“What happens when you get water on a table?” He asked.

Taken aback, I opened and closed my mouth several times.

“What?”

“It becomes a pool table.”

Mouth agape, I blinked in disbelief before shoving him away. I let out a small laugh and shook my head at him. Where in the world had that come from?

Seokjin was laughing, hands clapping, and praising the younger man for the joke. Jin was a big fan of dad jokes and enjoyed making them up whenever he could. Typically, you would have to know enough Korean for them to make sense, but they never failed to get a few chuckles out of me. The ridiculousness of the jokes coupled with the corny delivery was always funny. Johanna placed a glass in front of me smiling fondly at Jungkook.

“He’s a mess,” She said, looking at me in faux exasperation. “I don’t know how you survived the trip here. He talks too much.”

Shaking my head, I took a large sip of the water.

“It’s better than the awkward silence Yoongi brings along.”

She laughed, knocking her head back.

“Touche,” She giggled. “He is a bit intense sometimes.”

“You’ve been in Boston for an hour and you’re already turning my wife against me.”

The voice had come from behind me. Spinning around dumbly, I was face-to-face with Yoongi. The scar on his face was just as prominent as it had always been, taking up his entire left cheek into forehead, but his eyes seemed lighter than I remembered. He was skinnier than the last time I saw him, too. He was wearing a simple black shirt with a pair of jeans. He seemed completely at ease. 

“Hey kid,” He greeted Jungkook with a grin. “Heard Mouse got you good.”

Jungkook flushed, ducking his head while rubbing his neck.

“Oh?” Jin chimed, his voice mocking. “The great Sacarii taken down by a little mouse?”

Rolling my eyes, I sighed heavily.

“He didn’t even try anything,” I admitted. “I was the aggressive one.”

“He was just an idiot,” Jin teased.

Yoongi tsked, “Park was the bigger idiot of the two. He’s going to give me an aneurysm.”

“You’re too hard on him,” Johanna gently scolded. “You know Jimin has a roundabout way of being right.”

 Jungkook laughed, “A broken clock’s right twice a day.”

A silence fell over our group. It felt unnatural to be standing in a nice kitchen talking over mundane topics with everyone. It was a long ways away from the roach infested alleyways and closed off apartment complexes. I lived with Jin, Jimin, and Taehyung when I was in Boston. Our small one bedroom was always cluttered, overcrowded, and was the main spot for our meetups. The conference room had been stuffed between two twin-sized mattresses with a large, round table in the middle of it all. I slept on the pull-out sofa in the front. 

“I guess we should talk,” Yoongi said, looking me up and down. 

“I guess so,” I replied.

Walking over to him, I realized that no one else was following. Looking back at the other three, they simply looked back. Sighing, I let it go. Being alone with Yoongi was not an unwelcome thing, but it had always made me feel like I was in trouble. Laughing at myself, I followed the man out of the kitchen and into the dining room. This time I was the one who was in trouble. 

Walking out of the dining room, we were now in a small reading room with a staircase. A green, stand-up piano was tucked away between tall bookshelves and more plants. Following Yoongi upstairs, I refrained from looking too closely at things. The house was much bigger than it looked. Walking past a few doors, we stopped before Yoongi opened one. 

Gesturing me to follow, I smiled at the sight of the old table. It was far too large, held six chairs, and was cheaply made. Someone had refurbished it and I wondered if it had been Johanna. She seemed to like everything to be nice and neat. It was an aesthetically pleasing layout, but this room was all Yoongi. The dark colored walls and furniture were in stark contrast to the otherwise white house. Taking a seat at the table, I pulled out the chair directly across from him.

There was a line up of photos scattered on the desk along with a few letters. I recognized two of the women but the others were unfamiliar to me. Looking around, I scowled when I saw a picture of Ivan. I would be lying if I said he was physically unattractive. Ivan had always had this air around him and coupled with his angular features and blue eyes it was no wonder why women chased him. I knew him, however, and the slope of his cheekbones and the perfectly groomed dirty-blonde hair did nothing but repulse me. He looked everything like his brother. He looked nothing like his brother.

Picking the photo up, I looked closely. It was candid. Someone had been hiding when they took it since the man seemed to be unaware of the camera. He was smoking a cigarette and behind him was a beach. Trying to figure out where he could be was hard, but it was nowhere near New York. It was too sunny, the waves too high, and I could see a surfer in the background. 

“Johanna took that,” Yoongi suddenly said. “We were in California. It’s where we got married.”

Mind racing, I kept looking at the picture. Ivan had been close to me. Very close, in fact. Trying to figure out how I could have been traced, I thought of Kimberly and winced. It would take no time at all to figure out if it really was me. He could just send some random into the salon after seeing a post. I looked different but I was still me. He could have scouted out the place for months without me being any wiser. Closing my eyes, I dropped the photo.

“He’s known where you are for a while,” He continued. “He had asked Jungkook to take care of you a few weeks ago, but the kid refused. He knew your face. Ivan’s been trying to figure out the best plan of getting to you without pissing us off.”

“So he thought forcing me back to New York was the best option?” I spat.

Yoongi nodded, “In his mind, you’d be under his claim again so we’d have no authority. Either he’s crazy or stupid.”

“Both,” I replied. “Always both.”

“I’ve noticed.”

Eyes searching the pictures for more signs, I grew angry. 

“Why are you only just now telling me?” I demanded, picking apart each detail of the photographs. “I should have known from the very beginning.”

“I thought so, too,” Yoongi defended. “It was Jimin telling us to cool it. He thought he could get it under control since he’s known Ivan for so long. It didn’t work out and Jimin was kicked out of the family.”

“What?” I shouted.

Ivan was losing his damn mind. Jimin was the closest thing to Alexi those boy had after Ivan took over. They loved him, I loved him, and to watch him get kicked out over me would have been a massive blow to Ivan’s credibility. Loyalty was gone from New York it seemed, and it would only be a matter of time before Ivan came to the same conclusion. They don’t make them like Jimin anymore. He was only trying to keep the peace. Thinking of my friend, I willed back my tears. He had wanted me to stay in California. He didn’t want me to come back.

“They’re not doing well,” Yoongi admitted. “Georgie Boy and I talked and he’s with us regardless. The Italians haven’t been appreciating Ivan’s ways either. Hoseok spoke with the Gambinos and they said they’ll light up the Russians if they get into their territory again.”

“Again?”

Yoongi smiled without humor.

“Ivan’s boys were selling in the Gambino’s turf. Didn’t end well for them. They aren’t going to tolerate that shit again, and the other families are on the lookout as well. Have to say, the boy has lost his fucking mind.”

Going over the information, I felt more confident than I had before. Ivan was hoping to get me back into his arms first. Then he’d kill me. Or keep me. It was impossible to know for sure. Either way, he had a rude awakening if he thought my boys were going to let it happen without consequences. Thinking back to my thoughts when I first came inside, I reminded myself that we were connected. I meant more to them than property. They weren’t Ivan. 

They weren’t Alexei either.

Shoving that thought down, I refocused on the photo of Ivan. He looked worse than I had last seen him. His age was beginning to show, and I sneered at the sight of the family tattoo. I had been claimed by many groups in my life. The tiger for my family, the slope-edged star on my collar bone for Alexei, the clerk on my ribs for my skill with a blade, and St. Anthony for The Saints. Ivan’s name had been cut into my skin by the man himself after I killed a rival without permission. The scars were faded now, but I never liked to show my stomach anymore. You could still see the carving and I would always know they were there. 

 Eyes zeroing in on Ivan’s calf, I saw red as I caught sight of the dagger entwined by a snake. It was in the same spot as mine. They all represented something. 

The star was commonplace for all Russians while my clerk was far more specialized. I got it after I helped Alexei take care of a snitch. I hated thinking about that night, but it earned me my stripes. I got my dagger a few months later. The dagger was rare, only given out to a leader of a “suit” of thieves. Alexi had promoted me, and I controlled my own section of New York alongside him. Ivan did not deserve that tattoo even if he was the boss.

“Can I ask you something?” Yoongi said.

I nodded.

“Why would he want you back so badly? He hates you.”

I smiled ruefully, looking up from the picture. 

“I’m Alexei’s girl and he finds great pleasure in keeping me around just to spite him. Even if he’s dead, it’ll never be enough. Breaking me down was always the goal.”

“Were you and Alexei…”

Yoongi did not need to finish the sentence. It was a fair question and one that everyone asked at some point. The Saints never liked picking into my past too much. They knew it had been rough, they knew what Ivan and I’s relationship was like, so they put it to rest. Yoongi had seen my stomach once, said he was going to kill him one day, and never brought it up again. Latching onto the memory, I further reinforced that they cared for me. This was not a dangerous place. These are my friends.

“No, Alexei would never. I was only 13 when we met. He was 19. We were like siblings more than anything. More than he and Ivan ever were.”

“Ivan was jealous?” I nodded. “Typical.”

“He’s the one who killed him, you know,” I leaned back in the chair. “I was there that night. That’s why Ivan hates me. I know too much.”

Yoongi shook his head in disbelief. It was a completely different world than he was used to. The Irish took care of their own. While it may have involved violence and punishments being handed out from time to time, there had always been unwavering loyalty to one another. For Hoseok it was the same. Snitches were snitches but you always had people you knew were on your corner. When Ivan saw an in he took it, even if it meant killing his older brother, and everyone suffered for it. I had not said anything out of the code of ethics we built, but that never stopped word from spreading. Everyone knew Ivan killed Alexei but no one could prove it.

Yoongi sucked his teeth, “They know you came home. Jimin let us know about that. He and Kai have been all over this shit.”

I hummed, “They had a couple guys at the airport. Jungkook and I got past them easily, though.”

Yoongi looked at me strangely now. It was in between concern and pride, but I figured it was the closest thing to friendly I would get from him. It was not his fault his face looked the way it did. Wanting to lighten the mood, I decided to ask him about his wife.

“So, who’s Johanna?”

Yoongi actually cracked a smile.

“She’s a nuclear engineer. Works at BU and moved to America seven years ago.”

“How’d that even happen?”

Yoongi shrugged, “I don’t even know. We met at a restaurant Georgie took me to. She was there with some friends. We bumped into one another and she gave me her number. I didn’t call but we ran into each other again at a bar. Stuck like glue ever since.”

Gently smiling I replied, “Sounds nice. I’m glad you found someone.”

Yoongi looked down bashfully. He was like an entirely new person now. Yoongi had never been one to show emotions outside of anger and annoyance. Even with us he had been a hardass. It was strange but nice at the same time. I liked it more than the robot I was used to.

“She’s a good person,” He whispered, suddenly serious. “Sometimes I wonder if I should have left her alone. She deserves better than a life of crime and being entangled in my bullshit.”

I understood where he was coming from.

“You could always leave. Runaway to Iceland and never look back.”

Yoongi grinned, “I thought about it but I don’t have any skills outside of this. What would I do? Unlike you, some of us have never thought past our horizons. Besides, I have other people to think about.”

I also understood that as well. I had been afraid of change for a long time, and I had known I wanted it for a while. I was unsure how long they had known one another, or had been together, but Yoongi had always said he’d die in Boston. I doubted he thought that way now. 

“It’s okay to be selfish,” I mumbled. “Things haven’t been easy and there were times when I missed the craziness, but I can say it’s an experience everyone should have. I love both of my lives, but I’d be lying if I said I’d choose this over California.”

Yoongi nodded in thought. We would drop this conversation and likely never pick it back up again, so I knew I should say my peace now. Whatever he decided to do would ultimately be on his shoulders, but I thought it would be okay to push him to follow his heart’s desires. I was a dreamer and I hoped the others would find a dream to hold onto as well.

Walking downstairs, I was tired. The traveling had finally caught up to me and I wanted to get some rest while I could. Walking into the kitchen, the three of them were still talking. Johanna had started to cook something. It smelled nice but my stomach churned at the thought of food. Making my presence known, I yawned loudly and stretched my arms above my head.

“Sleepy?” Jungkook asked, completely at ease. 

He looked right at home here. Briefly I wondered if he stayed here often enough for that to be the case. Yoongi hated other people in his space, but he had changed since I last saw him. Jungkook, however, did not seem like someone who would like living with other people. He was mostly quiet, sweet, but standoffish at times. Jin grinned at me.

“Sorry to say I’m full,” The older man took a sip from a glass. I could not tell what it was and did not care to know. I rubbed my eyes dramatically and yawned again. “Jimin and I are rooming together. I doubt you want to take the sofa. Let’s just say I’ve been taking advantage of his absence.”

“I’ll take what I can get at this point,” I replied with another yawn. Shaking my head, I groaned. “God, I hate it when that happens.”

“Jungkook can keep you,” Johanna offered. “I’d let you stay here but my niece is spending the weekend. I don’t want to put her in a bad position.”

I knew what she meant. I would not want to put a child in the middle of this bullshit either. Looking over at Jungkook, I raised my eyebrow in silent questioning. He nodded back at me with a grin. I smiled back at him.

“We should go while we have daylight,” Jungkook said, a pair of keys in his hands.

I had no idea where they had come from.

“I can wait,” I protested. “You should eat first.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes.

“I’ll be fine. You haven’t slept since yesterday.”

“Y/N!” Jin scolded.

I non committedly waved him off. Scrunching my face up at Jin, I mumbled something close to ‘leave me alone,’ but I was doubtful it came out properly. Fighting to keep my eyes open, I leaned into Jungkook’s side as he wrapped an arm around my shoulder. Guiding me away from the kitchen, I knew I heard Jin make a comment about how close we were.

“You’re just jealous she likes me more than you,” Jungkook snapped back.

“Does not,” Jin replied, childishly whining.

Johanna laughed and I could hear Yoongi coming down the stairs. Jungkook lead me back into the reading room and turned left. Going down two steps we were in front of a door.

“Be safe!” Johanna called out.

“Always, noona,” Jungkook replied.

Leading me to the room, I realized we were in a garage. I was again surprised. There were two cars, both of them very nice and sleek, surrounded by expensive tools and equipment. Back in the day, I would have swiped everything in this room and stole one of the cars. Now, I was being led toward the black Marcedes on the farthest side of the room. 

“This one’s mine,” Jungkook said, attempting to fill the space.

“First one we haven’t stolen,” I joked.

Sliding into the passenger seat, I melted into the seat before Jungkook was in the vehicle. Opening the glovebox, I moved my legs out of the way as the man dug around the compartment. Finally he pulled a smartphone out and quickly turned it on. A few minutes later, the garage door was opening and we were pulling out of the large driveway. We passed Jin’s Jeep on the way out and Jungkook could not help but make a snide comment about the ugly car. I felt comfortable enough to try and fall asleep.

“You know,” Jungkook announced, making my eyes snap open. “You’re the coolest person I’ve ever worked with.”

I chuckled, my drowsiness making it difficult to focus. 

“Thanks. You’re not that bad.”

“I’ve been useless for the entire trip,” Jungkook argued. “You stole the cars, got me clothes, made sure we were able to get flights without getting into some shit for it, and you always tried to make me feel more comfortable.”

Snorting, I looked over at the man.

“I shot you.”

Jungkook burst out laughing.

“I broke into your house.”

“Eye for an eye,” I offered, laughing.

Jungkook spared me a look in order to flash one of his blinding smiles. I noticed now that his front teeth were slightly bigger than they should be. 

“Really,” Jungkook was serious again. “I feel bad for being dead weight. I’ll make it up to you, though. I’m not really known for stealing cars or running off into the night, but I know how to kill someone.”

Looking at me again, Jungkook’s boyish smile and light eyes were on. In their place were hard lines, a slightly down-turned pout, and a coldness that surrounded him I was unaccustomed to. While earnest, his expression felt wrong. Jungkook was sunshine and this felt like an eclipse.

“No one is going to touch you. I’ll cut their fucking hands off finger-by-finger if need be to get my point across.”

“Why would you do that?” I asked, confused.

We did not know one another. Hell, I shot this fucking guy. And yet here he was devoting his life to keeping me safe. It was crazy. Then again, this life was like that. Putting myself in Jungkook’s shoes, I thought about it the other way around. Would I kill for him?

“Because you’re my friend,” He answered without hesitation. “You’re my friend and I would like to get to know you better.”

Yes, I thought, I would kill for this kid.

Humming, I decided against saying anything else. I was far too tired for this conversation. Letting my body win, I closed my eyes and leaned against the car window. I fell asleep quickly, but I found no peace. Ivan’s face flashed through my mind, his eyes alight with anger, and my blood was all over his hands. My screams echoed in the background. He placed his knife against my skin again and drew a “V” right next to the “I.”

Eleven years ago

Standing beside Hoseok, I stared up at the apartment complex wearily. It was small, bricked, and disgusting. I could smell trash and smoke everywhere and people were yelling. I did not like it here. Not at all.

Looking over at the older boy, I made sure to show him my discontent. I could admit that South End was nicer than my old place in Brooklyn, but only for the quieter atmosphere. Everything else was just as nasty. Hoseok shoved me forward and scolded me for acting like a “freak.”

“People are going to know you’re new,” Hoseok complained. “Then  I’m going to have to break their fucking head open for stepping out of line. Then Yoongi is going to dislike you. So, just fucking walk and keep your head down.”

Anger flaring, I stopped. Hoseok bumped into my back. Groaning loudly, he went to yell at me again. Scowling, I elbowed him in the stomach harshly. When he groaned and grabbed his stomach, I turned around and punched him in the face. While he barely moved, eating the hit easily, it seemed to get the message across.

“Don’t talk to me like that, bitch,” I seethed. “You’re not my dad.”

Waiting for Hoseok to hit me back, I stood there with my fists balled up. He looked at me intensely, his hands still clutching his stomach. His eyes went from my face to the small patch of exposed skin on my stomach. Knowing exactly what he was looking at, I pulled down the too-short shirt and yelled at him again to hit me.

Instead of violence, Hoseok simply took up straight. Breathing through his nostrils, he seemed to be calming himself down. I could see the start of a blackeye forming where I had hit him. My regret began eating away at me instantly, but I refused to back down. He deserved that hit. He needed to know I was not going to be his little plaything. 

Hoseok just continued to walk, telling me to follow, and I could tell he was trying to be nicer this time around. Confused and more uneasy than before, I kept my hands ready for a fight. I was not sure when this nice-guy act would stop.

Being shaken awake, I realized we were at Jungkook’s. Glancing at the time, I was shocked we had driven almost two hours. We were parked in a small lot with a large brick building to the right. Jungkook turned the car off and got out. Quickly following him, I wondered where we were.

It was a nice place. They looked like townhomes and I could smell someone barbecuing. Jungkook looked back at me, a few paces ahead, and continued to walk around to the front. Every house had large bushes in the front yards. Hydrangeas grew vibrantly along the walkway with spaces to make way for the entryway to homes. Jungkook turned and I followed.

The front was identical to the others. The only difference I could see was Jungkook’s ‘no shoes’ sign right out front. Rubbing my eyes, I continued to wake up and get the crust off of my skin.

“It’s small,” Jungkook suddenly said, “But it’s nice.”

“Where are we?” I asked, stepping into the house and kicking off my shoes.

“Chatham,” He replied, shrugging his jacket off. “It’s out of the way but I like the beach.”

The first thing I noticed was the large, beige sectional in the living room. On the wall was a large television above a faux fireplace. The entire house smelled like wood polish and oranges. I liked the carpeted floors and was pleasantly surprised by how clean everything was. There were no photos or personalized art hanging on the walls, but I guessed Jungkook never really liked those sorts of things. He was personable but in the moment. Jimin was a photo monster.

Thinking of my friend, I hoped he was alright. It was unlike him to go full radio silent. At the very least he would have called and checked in. Perhaps he had and no one bothered to tell me. Catching a glimpse of myself in the large, gold framed mirror hanging above the dining table, I flinched. 

I looked just as bad as I had begun to feel. I was tired, my eyes puffy, and I was embarrassed by the drool dried at the corner of my lip. My shoulder was stiff and uncomfortable from sleeping in the car and my clothes looked a mess. Jungkook had my duffle bag on his shoulder and I belatedly realized I have never even thought to grab it. I had not even brought it inside.

“Thank you,” I said.

Jungkook smiled at me. 

“It’s no problem. The room’s not being used anyway.”

“No,” I shook my head and walked up to him. Carefully taking the bag, I slug it over my shoulder with a knowing look. “Thanks for grabbing my shit. And for the room. I appreciate it.”

Jungkook scratched the back of his neck and turned red. He was not good with compliments no matter how much he seemed to enjoy them.

“Friends, right?”

I nodded, “Yeah.”

Walking past him, I distracted myself from my racing heart by figuring out where his washing machine was.

After taking a shower, I tip-toed my way back to the room Jungkook had given me. I had been on edge since I got here. He was kind, caring, and attentive. I had never really seen someone show all three at the same time, and never toward me. My friends and I were subtle types, so to have someone so open and honest with their feelings was a hard pill to swallow. In California it was safe, in California it was expected, in California it was sacred; in Boston it was nerve wracking.

I could never be sure of how genuine Jungkook really was. When I was in his presence, it was easy to say that he was just that simple. Once I got alone it took all of me not to sneak out of a window and run. Hoseok had always said I needed to work on trusting people, so I would try.

I knew my behavior was only heightened by my attraction to him. Attractive people were the worst. Liking Jungkook would not do any favors for either one of us. I would get swallowed up by the life I so desperately wanted to leave, and Jungkook would be stuck in an awkward situation with the rest of the crew if it came to the light. No one would win and the outcome would be the same if I said anything or not. I was leaving Boston as soon as the situation was handled.

Luck was not on my side. As I turned the corner to reach the door of my bedroom, Jungkook was coming up the stairs. Carrying two cups, he flashed me a small smile and walked the rest of the way up. I froze in my spot. Caught red handed, I tried to play off my unsuccessful sneaking and took the cup with a smile. Jungkook did not seem to buy it but looked more amused than anything.

“What’s this?” I asked, smelling it.

“Cocoa,” He replied. “It’s not winter but still chilly.”

I nodded and took a generous sip. It was warm and silky. Humming in satisfaction, I took another sip and licked my top lip. Cocoa was one of my favorite things when I was a child. It was one of the few fond memories I had. Jungkook looked happy.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” He asked. “To get your mind off things?”

It was funny that he thought Ivan was what had been plaguing my mind. I may not be a very violent person now, but there was a time I was ruthless. The Russians did not scare me as much as they once had either. My initial response had been mostly shock, anger, and most of all, frustration. I had not been scared in a very long time. I doubted I ever would be.

“Sure,” I said, keeping my thoughts out of the conversation. What Jungkook did not know will not hurt him. He was only trying to help. “I’m not picky.”

Going down the stairs, I felt the same nervous butterflies growing in my stomach again. We were going to be closer than I would like to be. I was afraid of what that might do to the both of us. I did not know where Jungkook’s head was, but I was not foolish enough to believe that I was immune to any advances. The ball would stay in his court. I had enough self control to let that be a rule.

Sitting on the couch, I curled up on the end and waited. Netflix was already pulled up and waiting. Jungkook sat two cushions away. Picking up the remote from the coffee table, he began scrolling as we talked about possible movies to watch. We ended up on a random Jason Statham film. I watched mindlessly since every one of his movies were practically the same.

“Are you hungry?” Jungkook asked me fifteen minutes in, clearly bored and disinterested in the action sequence. I could not blame him. There was no way anyone could use a gun like that in real life, and I was becoming annoyed by the plot armor. “I have ramen.”

I nodded, “That’s fine.”

Moving to stand up, Jungkook waved me off and went to the kitchen himself. Not arguing, I got more comfortable and zoned out once more. It was hard not to feel the pull towards him. All I kept thinking about was the way his lips felt at the airport. Refocusing on the movie, I rolled my eyes at the bomb scene. There was no way in hell you were getting up and walking away from something that big.

Of course, Jason Statham had done just that. 

Jungkook came back a few minutes later, two large cups of ramen in hand, and sat down at the sofa. We ate in silence, neither one of us interrupting the bad movie again. When I went up to bed I could only think about how his hands would feel on me.

Taglist: @ippid @jkslaugh97 @destructive-memories @ash07128 @heartjiminie @adventures-in-bookland @canyon-lwt​ 

[mingkismain]

Detective Kim - hongjoong x reader

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an; finally got inspo to write again!

hongjoong x fem!reader

genre; smut, pwp

word count; 4,091

warnings/tags; pwp, piv, unprotected sex (as i always say don't do that), sort of meandom!hongjoong (SORT OF), non-idol!au, little bit of choking, quite literally one (1) ass slap, lil bit of degradation, pet names (babe, baby), creampie, overstimulation, if i missed anything lmk <3

MDNI - smut under cut

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it wasn’t unusual for you to have to bring in a body during night shift, but a double homicide was definitely a little weird.

You’d been working for the county coroner for about three years now, and in that time you had only had one other double homicide, and that one was on your very first night shift.

You could’ve sworn this one only came in because your coworker made the mistake of wishing you a slow shift, ultimately cursing you to a nightmarish shift. While it wasn’t as bad as you thought, the scene where the bodies were found was about 30 minutes from your office, which meant this trip would take at least an hour, which meant you lost at least an hour of possible sleep.

Great.

“I’ll make sure to wish him a slow shift next time he’s on nights,” you grumbled to yourself as you loaded up the coroner van. As soon as you were done checking the stretchers and making sure you had enough gloves and body bags (plus your camera), you pulled out of the garage and made your way to the scene.

When you arrived, local and state police were already there waiting for you, Detective Kim walking up to your van to greet you.

“Ah, so good to see you!, sorry it’s under these circumstances, but always a pleasure to see you,” Detective Kim stuck his hand out for you to shake.

You smiled, “hi Hongjoong, yes sorry I have to see you here too, we always seem to meet at the worst times!” You tried to keep the mood as light as you could, as the unknown of the scene inside was starting to make you nervous. “What do we have here?” You hopped out of the van, grabbing your camera and some gloves, walking with Hongjoong to the front door of the scene. It appeared to have happened inside a townhouse.

He kept up with you, pausing so you could capture your photos as you two walked, “so apparently there was a 911 call made by a neighbor, they had heard a lot of banging coming from this unit and it was originally a noise complaint. While the person was on the phone with dispatch, they said they heard gunshots. We’re still figuring out the details, but we needed you to come in and do your work before we started ours.” Once you two had made your way to the first line of crime scene tape, you were met with a policeman holding a sheet of paper.

“Before you two go in, sign this please.” He held the clipboard out in front of you, it had the scene log on it. “Make sure we know who is coming in and out of here. We don’t know what happened yet, but better safe than sorry.” You and Hongjoong nodded and each signed your names and what departments you two worked for. You then snapped a shot of the scene log for your own evidence folder.

You continued to talk to Hongjoong as you made your way through the front door, snapping more photos as you moved inside, “so they heard gunshots, anything else? And where are the bodies?” You moved to the living room, finding bloody footprints, snapping a photo with your scale and being careful to not step on them.

“The local police are still gathering their witness statements, so I really don’t know what else they heard. But I think it was a couple, a male and a female. I think the man was dealing with some shady people, then his girl got caught up in it. Oh, and the bodies are upstairs. Whenever you’re done down here we can go up to the bedroom.” He trailed behind you, watching as you photographed from the living room to the kitchen, eventually going to the stairs.

Once you made your way to the stairs, you started to notice bullet holes and marks in the walls leading up to the hallway. You grabbed some photos of those as you continued up the stairs, “Joong, which bedroom are they in?”

His ears perked up at the little nickname, people rarely used it on him but whenever you said it, he would feel his face flush. He cleared his throat, “go up the hallway, second door on your left. I’ll be right behind you.” You nodded and continued up as you photographed the hallway upstairs, finding even more bullet holes and a couple of shell casings. As you entered the bedroom, you saw the two bodies, the woman was in bed, the man was face down on the floor.

Hongjoong stood behind you, “Jesus.”

You turned around, brows furrowed, “have you not been up here yet??”

“No, I seriously was waiting for you! I didn’t want you yelling at me if I touched anything! I remember how you were on that suicide scene not too long ago!”

You huffed, “well thank you for not touching anything, but are the weapons secured? Do we even know if this guy had a gun? Has anyone done ANYTHING prior to my arrival???”

He stifled a laugh, “yes, the cops secured the scene for you, they have the gun in an evidence bag downstairs, but we can give you a description and everything when we’re heading down again. And don’t worry, we took our own photos before we moved the gun.”

“Thank you, remind me when we go down please.” You began to move into the room, being mindful of where your feet were placed.

The room wasn’t a bloodbath, but it certainly wasn’t spotless. You started with the man, as he was closer to the door. He was lying face down, feet closer to the door. It looked as if he had been running. You took photos of him as is before getting up close. Once you finished with overall shots, you put your gloves on and began to move the body, turning him over so you could get a clear shot of his face. It looked as if he had been shot in the back of the head, with the exit wound dead center of his forehead. You opened his eyes to check for other injuries, and to document in your photos. As you moved him so he was now on his back, you found more wounds scattered throughout his torso.

“Oh my god, Doc is gonna have a field day with this guy,” you snapped photos of every single bullet wound. Some had exit wounds, but a few did not, which meant your coroner was going to have to search for the bullets during the autopsy.

Once you were done with the man, you moved to the woman in the bed. She seemed to have a less painful demise, as she only had two bullet wounds. One straight to the heart, and one slightly to the left of the kill shot.

As you continued to move the body so you could clearly assess her, Hongjoong stood by the door, “what’s it looking like?”

You stood at the foot of the bed, taking more pictures of the woman, “looks like he was the one in the altercation. I think she may have woken up, but whoever was chasing this guy must’ve gotten her pretty quickly. She only has two wounds, and I think he’s got at least a dozen holes in him.” You turned around to face him, “can you come back downstairs with me? I need to get my body bags and stretcher out of the van.” He nodded and followed you down. You handed him the two bags you brought and went around the back to grab your stretcher. Since there was only one and both the decedents were relatively small in weight, you could fit both of them on the one stretcher and call it a day.

Before you went back inside, you found some of the local cops. “Listen, I need some big strong men to help me with these people in this house. How many of you want to have the honor of helping lil’ ol’ me?” You batted your lashes at the cops.

Don’t ask what sexism can’t do for you, but what it CAN help you with. You damn well were not about to haul two bodies down some stairs on your own.

Hearing that you needed strong men made them start puffing their chests, one out of the group piped up, “sure doll, me and Chris here can give you a hand. Do you have extra gloves?” He grabbed his buddy by the vest, volunteering him to help with the dead.

You put on a big fake smile, “of course I do! Here, take these and let’s go!”

They followed you into the house, Hongjoong behind them with the body bags still. He had watched you with the cops and may have started ruminating on it. He was a strong guy, right? He alone could’ve helped you with the bodies? What the fuck?

Pushing those thoughts to the side, he stood in the doorway again, watching you and the cops handle the bodies into their bags. Once everyone was zipped in, you and one cop handled a body down the stairs, while Hongjoong and the other cop carried the other bag behind you two. Once they were loaded onto the stretcher, you got them into the van, closing the door behind you. Before you got on your way, you gave the cops your work email so they could send you photos of the gun from earlier.

You thanked the cops and sent them on their way, Hongjoong hung out by your van for a second, “I’ll meet you back at your office.”

“What? Why?”

He huffed, “because you aren’t going to be able to move two bodies on your own that’s why!”

“They’re both pretty light Joong, it's fine, really. You probably have other cases sitting on your desk—”

He sighed your name out, “seriously, quit it, I’m not changing my mind. Plus, I really don’t wanna go back to the office yet. I’ll meet you at YOUR office in a bit. Drive safe.”

“You too.” You spoke as he walked off, you hopped back into your van, plugging your directions in.

While on your drive you contemplated why Hongjoong’s mood had shifted towards the end of the scene. Sure you had only known him for two years, but that felt like enough time together to know that tonight was a little strange.

“Maybe he’s dealing with shit outside of work,” You thought out loud. Maybe the bodies in the back would perk up with some advice.

Unfortunately, neither the dead nor the living had anything insightful to say as you pulled back into your office garage, Hongjoong already in a parking spot out front. Once he saw you parking, he made his way to the garage door. He barely said a word as you got the stretcher out of the back.

“Where do you want it?”

Your eyebrows raised, “huh?? Oh, the bodies. Um, put them over there for now, I have to get their weights, but I need to put them on separate tables for that.” You shook your head. The fuck? He knew what he was doing phrasing it like that.

He literally does NOT, you just haven’t been laid in ages. Wake up.

While you busied yourself with the toe tags, Hongjoong made his way over to you, leaning in to see what you were writing down. He was so close you could smell the cologne on him, it’s amazing that after a scene as gross as that one and now being in the morgue with more dead bodies mere feet away, he still smelled so delicious. It took a lot of willpower for your hand to steady as you finished with the last tag, turning around and nearly bumping into him with how in your space he had gotten.

“Sorry hon, was just curious. I don’t get to see this side of the investigation too much,” he moved out of your way so you could go place the toe tags with their respective bodies.

Was it a full moon tonight? Why am I sweating when this morgue is literally 50ºF. I hate it here.

As you finished with the toe tags, you moved to grab the storage trays out of the freezer for the bodies. You figured you could weigh one of them on the stretcher and the other on the tray, then move them both to trays for storage until autopsy. You motioned for Hongjoong, “Joong, come give me a hand please?”

This time there was no hiding the flush to his face as he walked towards you; though he could blame it on how cold this damn place was. Regardless, he made his way over, helping you weigh the bodies. Once all that was done, you rolled them into storage, shutting the door and double checking that it was locked. You sighed as you headed back to the van to collect your camera so you could upload your photos and hopefully sleep the rest of your shift.

Unfortunately (or maybe not?) Hongjoong followed you to your desk inside.

“I thought you were just going to help with the bodies?” You unloaded your camera bag as he rolled up an office chair next to yours.

He took off his coat, putting it on the back of his chair, “yeah, but now I want to see your pictures. Crime scene rarely shares with the detectives. I don’t know why, but they’re so weird. It’s like a little cult over there, they never wanna give us anything even though it’s usually OUR cases they’re helping with.”

You let out a small sigh, “alright, fine. You can look at mine, but I’m kicking you out after that. You’re cutting into my sleeping time.”

He laughed, “listen, I’m cutting into my OWN sleep time, but I get lonely at the office, it’s different from here.”

You focused on your screen, beginning to label all your photos in numerical order. “What do you mean?”

He leaned in, looking as you labeled, “oh wow you’re great at this. It’s just different. Here you’re on your own sort of, it’s only you on night shift, not a lot of overhead really, it’s comfier. At my office it has the same vibes as a fraternity house sometimes. There’s more than one person each shift, and everyone is fighting for the same promotion most times, so you really don’t know who you can trust. It sucks most days, but I love the actual work I do.”

You blushed at his quick compliment about your photos, the day you can take a compliment normally is the day your praise kink dies. Regardless, you continue to listen to him vent about his office as you catalog your work. By the time he was done ranting, you had finished with your photos, Hongjoong leaning over your shoulder the entire time you were working, eventually moving so close to your screen that your heads were lined up next to each other. But you blamed the closeness on him manually zooming in instead of waiting for you to do it on the computer. Now that you were done with labeling, you could spend more time looking at the pictures with him. He never moved his head, if anything he got even closer to you, putting the hand that was originally resting on the back of your chair, now resting on your shoulders. He stood out of his chair in favor of practically leaning over you.

You tried to crack a joke, “Joong, I think you need glasses, you’re so close you’re going to fall into my screen,” you let out a nervous laugh as you both turned your heads to each other. The eye contact you were now holding made your body temperature skyrocket.

He continued to hold eye contact, breaking for a second to look at your lips, “Sorry doll, I didn’t want to bother you too much and ask you to zoom in on every single picture.”

You thought about how he said doll, then it hit you, “is that what this attitude change was caused by?? Because I asked some stupid local cops to help me move BODIES? You cannot be serious right now Hongjoong.” You were still technically under him in your desk chair, yelling up into his face. He gave it right back to you, one hand moving to your upper thigh, giving it a squeeze, “yeah that’s what this was about! Why were you flirting with the cops? You didn’t need to do that and you know I would’ve been able to help you with the bodies myself!”

The hand on your thigh did little to distract you, “oh my god you and your fragile ego! We would’ve dropped the fucking bodies had it just been us two! Don’t read into it too much! The flirting meant jack shit!”

He sighed heavily, the hand on the back of your chair moving to your chin, pulling you in for a rough kiss. Pulling away, he said, “it didn’t feel like jack shit to me, do you do that on all your scenes?” He lifted you out of your chair, dropping you onto your desk, going back in for a heavier kiss. “Whore yourself around so the men can do the heavy lifting? I wonder what else you offer so they can do your dirty work,” He pulled you into him by your waist, a hand snaking up to the back of your head, pulling your hair so you would look at him. You bit back a moan, not wanting him to have the satisfaction of knowing how hot you were getting.

He gave your hair another tug, “answer me pretty girl. Do you act like that at all your scenes or just when you know I’ll be around?”

You tried to even out your heavy breathing, looking into his eyes, “I do it on most scenes, regardless of if you’re there or not. It’s not my fault you can’t handle it.” His grip in your hair loosened, you thought this would be the end of it.

Clearly you were wrong.

He tilted his head and smirked at you, pulling you off of the desk in favor of bending you over it.

Thank god this office didn’t have any fucking cameras.

You braced yourself with your arms but not for long, you heard movement behind your back before your arms were taken out from under you. Hongjoong had taken his belt and secured your arms behind you with it. He then moved to unfasten your pants, dropping them along with his. He bent over you so he could whisper in your ear as his hand snaked down to play with your already throbbing clit over your panties.

“We’ll see who can handle what. I don’t think those other cops ever get to see you like this.” You turned your head away from him, trying to hide the fact that he was making you feel fucking amazing, but he was having none of that. Instead of going for your hair again, he brought the hand that wasn’t on your clit to your neck, grabbing you tightly, making you arch off the desk. As he brought you up to him, a moan escaped you and it immediately drove Hongjoong up a fucking wall.

“Aw see baby, you can’t hide from me, I know what you like. It’s too easy,” he emphasized ‘easy’ with a stronger hold on your neck, making your vision fuzzy for only a moment before fully dropping his hand in favor of going to rip your underwear off. He brought you back down to the desk with a huff, getting rid of his underwear in the process.

He took his cock out and began to line himself up with your entrance, you only wish you could’ve seen his face when he finally slid into you, but you were too busy squeezing your eyes shut. You could hear him let out a shaky moan, “jesus fuck you feel so good, it’s a wonder we didn’t do this sooner,” you gasped as he bottomed out inside of you, even though you didn’t get a chance to see his cock, he felt heavy inside of you, thick and long, practically touching your cervix.

Once Hongjoong felt you were adjusted to him he began to pound into you, moving you up and down the desk. He held onto your still secured arms for leverage, grunting into your ear as he did so.

Leaning down to bite your ear, he growled at you, “say it.”

In your nearly fucked out state, you had no idea what he was talking about. “What?” You managed to get out through several moans.

He repeated himself, bringing a hand to slap your ass as he did, “say it. Tell me you’re a whore. My whore.”

At the mention of him calling you his whore you swore you could’ve flooded the office, you felt yourself tighten around him as he said it. Earning another, rather loud, moan out of him.

Through broken whimpers and moans, you managed to say it, “yes, fuck yes! I’m yours Hongjoong,” you let out another particularly loud moan, practically drooling onto your desk, “your dumb whore.” You were pretty sure you came as you said that, body feeling a little more weak and a lot more sensitive, but he continued to fuck you through it, bringing you to that sweet spot of overstimulation.

Hongjoong must’ve felt it too, he leaned down to leave a kiss on your shoulder, “aw what’s the matter baby? Haven’t been touched in so long it only takes a couple hits to get you there? Don’t worry, I’m close too.”

He in fact was not close.

He continued to pound into you, switching up from fast and hard to slowly dragging his cock in and out of you, it was torturous at this point. He was driving you crazy, you felt like you were close again, he made it even worse by bringing his hand back down to your clit to rub it again, harder and faster than before, making your legs shake so badly. You were beginning to get so overwhelmed by all the pleasure, you could feel tears running down your face, landing on your desk. You were sure you were going to pass out if he didn’t cum soon, the pleasure beginning to make you feel lightheaded.

You could hear Hongjoong’s groans and moans getting louder behind you. He reached down to undo the belt from your hands, freeing you to brace yourself on your desk again. You pushed yourself up, arching your back and making him fuck you from a slightly new angle, sending you both right to the edge.

He bit your shoulder and moaned loudly, “baby, babe I’m close, so close, where do you want it?”

You shivered at his words, reaching back to grab his hair, “inside—haah—fuck inside please!”

He moaned and cursed your name, “fuck, fuck! coming, oh my god i’m gonna—” he groaned as he released inside you, triggering you to come again, legs practically giving out underneath you. Hongjoong felt you slipping and held your hips up while you both rode your highs out. Once your both caught your breath, he pulled out of you, making you both shudder as he did so.

As you turned around to redress yourself, he was doing the same, he reached down to you and gave you a deep kiss, but this one was softer than the earlier ones. Once you both were redressed, your work phone rang.

You groaned, answering the phone, “coroner’s office. Huh? Uh huh.” Hongjoong stood close by, trying to listen in, “alright, where are you? Do you have a name? No? Alright, do you at least have race and sex? Weight? Rough estimate is fine. Alright. I’ll be out in under an hour. And what was your name? Got it. See ya.” You hung up the phone, scribbling the last bit of info down.

Hongjoong spoke up, “what was that about?”

You reached for your jacket that read ‘coroner’ on the back, “another death, apparently this one was a suicide. I think it’s in your jurisdiction if you wanna come out with me.”

He followed your lead, reaching for his jacket, “I guess aftercare will have to wait till later huh.”

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this was also crossposted to my ao3 :3

please do not repost or translate my work