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dovveri · 4 months ago

Text

strangers

synopsis: trainee life is a lot tougher than you thought, but with three other trainees you met along the way, you have a little more hope that it’ll all be worth it in the end.

warnings: bad eating habits, mentions of vomiting and self-induced vomiting, swearing, suggestive, TOE-SUCKING, alcohol and parties, lots of feelings and trainee life angst

w/c: 19.2k !!!!! why is this like half of my entire bachelorette series jeezus

a/n: requested!! i actually dont fill reqs this quick but i had the idea alr and i lwk love writing poly i just think its so much messier and more confusing and FUN so writing this came a lot easier than writing other reqs do. also u lwk only have to read half of this and be happy yippee happily ever after OR u can potentially hurt urself and enjoy the angst but idk it’s not THAT bad so 🤗

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐

“y/n?”

you blink, tilting your head up from your hiding spot under the table in the recording studio. it’s nayeon, one of the korean trainees. you hurriedly wipe your eyes on your sleeve, stumbling upwards and almost knocking your head on the bottom of the table.

“s-sorry. were you using this room? i’ll get out now-“

“no no! it’s okay i was just going to get some practice in and i saw you. are you… are you okay?” you appreciate her speaking slower for you, your grasp of korean still wasn’t the best.

“y-yeah i’m fine. i’ll just- leave you to it- sorry again-“

“are you sure? today’s actually my day off so i don’t have to be doing anything. i’m happy to just listen if you want…?”

you gulp, avoiding her gaze, nayeon was one of the trainees that everyone knew would most likely make it. you didn’t see much of her because she was always off on side jobs filming as a background dancer for music videos, booking small modelling gigs, and she was generally in more advanced classes than yours and was even set to debut in a group with a few others before the idea was scrapped. she was steadily making a name for herself even before the public knew her, something you couldn’t help but be envious of. but here she was, offering to listen to you of all people.

“i- um-“

“it’s okay. you can take your time.” she smiles sweetly, “i tried to take a few english classes but it’s a lot more difficult than i thought it’d be. so i can understand how hard it must be to come to a different country and learn a whole new language.”

“t-thank you. i was just um- i was actually just thinking about calling home and… and quitting.”

she nods, eyes filled with empathy, waiting for you to continue.

“i just- don’t think i can make it. there’s so many talented people here and this has always been my dream but i’m just not good enough and i don’t even- it doesn’t even make sense for me to be here when i could be back home getting an education or i don’t know- doing something with my life.”

“you don’t think what you’re doing now is something?”

you sigh, gripping your arm firmly, "it- it is but i don't know if it's all going to work out in the end."

"and you think going back home and going to school will guarantee things working out for you?"

"well- i- no, not for certain but-"

"so isn't the only difference that you actually want to do this? you don't want to end up working an office job for the rest of your life right?"

"but- like i'm more likely to get an office job than i am to debut-"

"i'm sure the office jobs will wait for you. idol life won't. if you don't make it, then the office job will always be there right? it's up to you though, i'm not trying to convince you to stay or leave, i just think it's a shame when you have a real chance at getting what you've dreamt of your whole life. you were scouted weren't you? did you know i auditioned to get in? and i had to hide it from my family because they didn't think this was a realistic job prospect, not when i was still in high school. so if you think you don't belong here, just remember you beat out other auditionees to get your spot as a trainee here, so you were good enough for that." she smiles brightly, her two protruding front teeth proudly on display, giving her the adorable likeability to a rabbit.

her words bring you back from the edge of panic, you've always looked at her through a lens of jealousy, wishing you had as much natural talent and star power as she did, but right now, you could see she was so much more than that, and you respected her for it, admired her for it.

"thank you nayeon." you finally meet the older girl's eyes, and her smile grows even brighter.

"of course. do you have any training schedules to get to right now? or do you want to stay here and practice some vocal chords with me?"

"would that be okay?" your eyes widen at her offer.

"yes! don't be silly y/n i know we're all meant to be competing or whatever but we're most likely going to debut in a group right? we can't just be out for each other's throats all the time."

you smile, finding her attitude refreshing, most of the trainees you had met were exactly like that, and you felt even more isolated when it was obvious they made no effort to get to know you because of the language barrier, to them, it was just another advantage they had over you.

"c'mon. let's see what you got."

your motivation reinvigorated, you spend the rest of the afternoon cooped up in the recording studio with nayeon, practicing together but also joking around and laughing, being the kids you were in an industry that stripped you of that freedom.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐

"これの読み方を知っていますか?"

"いいえ、私は愚かです."

you shuffle uncomfortably in your seat, unable to shake the insecurity that they were talking about you. you were currently in your intensive korean class, waiting for the teacher to appear. the class was mostly quiet, except for the two girls sitting a table away from you, whispering and laughing, pushing each other around playfully.

when you glance towards them again, one of them meets your eye. you panic, whipping your head back down to your open textbook.

the girl who saw you whispers something to her seatmate, nodding towards you, bringing the other girl's attention to you as well.

you strain to see what they're doing in your peripheral vision, but the little giggles and whispers have you shrinking in even more on yourself, thinking they were making fun of you for whatever reason.

you don't notice when the one who spotted you first is suddenly standing next to you. she waits for you to acknowledge her, but when you don't she giggles again, leaning down and tilting her head so you had to look at her.

"hi. my name sana. you?"

"y-y/n."

"y/n? nice to meet you! that momo." she steps back a little and points at the other girl who waves shyly at you. you stare back at her, dumbfounded, reciprocating her wave.

"you... korean good?"

you blink, unsure of what to say, "umm... it's okay i guess."

sana grins, all teeth, almost blinding you, running back to her seat and picking up her textbook, skipping back towards you and plopping down in the empty seat next to you. she points at the page, "how to do?"

you look down to the question she has circled, it was part of the homework set from the last lesson. you flick back to that page in your own textbook, showing her and trying to explain with gestures what it was asking.

when it clicks, that blinding smile graces her features again, her eyes lighting up and quickly scribbling down the answer. then she turns to momo who seemed to be doodling little drawings all over her workbook instead of studying.

"モモリ馬鹿野郎 ! これがあなたのやり方です."

you shrink back into your seat, thinking she was done with you, only needing you to help her with her homework, and now that she was done, she could go back to making fun of you.

but instead, momo looks over curiously, standing up and hovering over the two of you. sana starts talking in rapid japanese, her hands flailing around excitedly.

momo nods along, and then she seems to get a moment of realisation, her eyebrows raising and mouth opening in the shape of an o, an "ahh!" escaping her.

sana looks back to you, "thank you! you so smart!"

you still don't really follow their conversation but you nod, shyly rubbing the back of your neck, "it's okay."

"we sit here?"

"sorry?"

sana frowns, an adorable pout forming on her lips, thinking over how to say what she wants. then she grabs momo's hand, gesturing between the both of them, "friends!", then she grabs your hand, gesturing between the three of you now, "friends?"

your hand is sweaty against sana's, you take note of how soft it feels against yours, heart stumbling a little over itself. you nod sheepishly, not expecting sana to grin, pulling you into a hug immediately.

momo goes to grab her things, and then settles into the seat on your other side, "sorry for her. she very huggy."

sana pouts, flicking momo's forehead playfully after she pulls away from you, "you like it too."

momo giggles, rolling her eyes.

things were moving so fast your brain was playing catch up. you knew the people here were a lot more affectionate than back home, but you still felt your heart racing from being in such close proximity with sana, and now momo too, the both of them squeezed against you and conversing lightly in broken korean and japanese while waiting for the teacher. it wasn't unwelcome though, this was the first time someone had asked you in such a straightforward way to become friends, it was refreshing, definitely better than the trainees in your vocal and dance classes who refused to interact with you at all.

when the teacher finally comes, he looks a little surprised at the change in seating, but doesn't comment on it, diving straight into the lesson.

sana and momo both try their best to keep up, sana remains fully engaged in the lesson, asking plenty of questions, while momo is the opposite. she's easily distracted, when the teacher goes on one of his off topic rants, she starts doodling in her textbook again, you repress a laugh at the stick men she drew frolicking around in fields with rainbows and stars. you can't help yourself but bring your pen to her page, adding a little deranged dog to her drawing.

she looks at you in surprise, but lets you finish, giggling at the result and drawing in some fur for the dog, fixing up your sorry attempt at a puppy.

the class finishes uneventfully after that. momo yawns, closing her book with relief while sana stretches, standing up and grinning down at the both of you.

momo looks at her warily, squinting, "what?"

"what?"

"you have not good look on your face. what you do?"

"what do you mean momoring?" sana's grin only grows wider.

"i don't want to get in trouble again."

"you woooon't. what you think y/n? want to sneak out get fried chicken and beer?"

momo groans, slumping down on her desk, muttering to herself in japanese while sana laughs at her reaction.

you look between the both of them, raising an eyebrow. you knew you shouldn't, but you hadn't had real food in so long, the company's strict diet and weight requirements always on all of your minds. and you hadn't really gone out and explored korea since you arrived. you'd pretty much been confined to the dorms and the company building, eating cafeteria food and living the same routine everyday, you knew the korean trainees would often get together after late night practices and have small gatherings the company wouldn't know about, but you were never invited to those.

you grin cheekily, "you have a plan?"

sana laughs, pulling you up to stand, hugging you once again in glee, "yay!! i knew we good friends! of course, it's not the first time momoring and i have snuck out." she pulls away with a wink.

momo grumbles behind you, slowly standing up as well, "last time you got us caught you said we were helping 'clean the streets'. stupid. we had extra exercise requirements for two weeks."

"we won't get caught this time! i promise! and if we do i pay for all our food."

momo perks up at that, eyeing sana, then holding out her pinky.

sana giggles, linking their pinkies and then dragging momo by their pinkies, and you by your hand out of the classroom and back towards the dorms to get ready.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐

"sana- move!" momo grunts, shuffling around in clothes too big for her, a cap that dipped over her eyes, and a mask to hide her face.

"shh! you're gonna get us caught!"

"no you are!"

"okay they're gone let's go." sana slinks forward in similar attire, careful to avoid the security cameras, flapping a sleeve behind her frantically to gesture the both of you to follow. momo glances at you, rolling her eyes but smiling, tiptoeing forward and following sana.

you're body is surging with adrenaline. you had always been a 'good' kid. you've never tried sneaking out of anywhere before. you were also trying to hold in your laughter at how stupid the three of you must look, the sunglasses covering your eyes while indoors and at 9pm at night glazing your vision.

you make it halfway across the main entrance, almost to the exit, hands shoved in your pockets.

"... y/n?"

you pause, heart pounding. the two in front of you stop as well, sana looks back at you in alarm.

you decide the best course of action is to pretend you didn't hear them. after all, they couldn't be sure you were yourself right now right? the absurd disguises made sure of that. you take another step forward.

"y/n what are you wearing? you look like vector from despicable me."

curse sana for lending you that naruto cosplay. you forgot how visible your disguise was.

you turn on your heel slowly, terribly embarrassed to have been discovered like this, mind scrambling to come up with an excuse for what the three of you were doing.

but you're stopped in your tracks when you realise who was teasing you with a wide grin, two front teeth on display. she laughs when she finally sees you, it's loud and bright, it'd scare you away if you hadn't already heard it plenty of times from her when she had found you in the practice room that day.

"you look so stupid. wait-" she whips out her phone, and before you can protest, she snaps a quick picture, laughing at her phone after checking the result.

"nayeonn!"

"i can't believe you tried to sneak out wearing that."

you pout, crossing your arms protectively over yourself, "i wasn't trying to sneak out!"

she raises an eyebrow, "yeah and i'm not gorgeous." she jokes sarcastically, before peeking over your shoulder and nodding behind you, "and who are those two losers behind you?"

you turn, taking off your ridiculous sunglasses and waving to let them know you were fine and to join you. sana tilts her head curiously, moving back towards you, tugging along momo who takes off her cap, blowing her hair out of her face.

"oh! you're the japanese duo that came here on the same day! i'm sorry i don't remember your names but i saw you dance and you were incredible." she directs the last part at momo, who blushes at the compliment, nodding and hiding behind her hair. sana grins though, bowing down and bringing momo down with her.

"i'm sana! this is momo!"

"nayeon. it's nice to meet you both." nayeon smiles sweetly, bowing as well and gesturing for them to stand up. "where were you guys headed?"

"chicken and beer! you want to come?" sana quips happily, excited to meet anyone new.

"how were you guys going to get beer?" nayeon jokes with a smirk.

sana tilts her head confusedly, she looks adorable in the clothes that drown her.

"you're all underage right?"

sana looks to you in confusion, not seeming to understand what underage meant.

"ah- none of us are 18..." you gesture to the three of you.

sana makes a sound of exclamation, not having thought about that particular detail.

nayeon laughs brightly, finding the japanese girl's antiques endearing. "good thing you have me then! c'mon. i know the best place as well, and no one from the company will go around there so we won't get caught." she winks, pulling a mask and cap out of her jacket pocket and slipping it on.

you blink, surprised at the change in events.

nayeon shrugs, "always gotta be ready if we're training to be idols right?" you can see the smirk in her eyes, before she charges forward without an answer and leads the four of you into the night.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐

your shoulder hurt.

there's another bout of laughter, you flinch, preparing yourself.

sure enough, nayeon's large hands come clapping down on your arm, you wince, trying to smile your way through the sting of each slap.

it doesn't help when sana realises why you look constipated, cracking up even more pointing at you with a hand over her mouth, which makes nayeon laugh again for absolutely no other reason than that you were all wasted.

"nayeonnie calm down- you're going to kill y/n-" sana chokes out between giggles.

nayeon blinks, looking at you, face brightly flushed. she pouts, leaning in close, "what did i do?"

you flush even brighter, blaming the alcohol and not the way nayeon's eyes are glued to your lips, squinting and trying to focus on one part of your face only with her wobbly vision. you push her off of you gently, rubbing at your shoulder with a grimace, "you hit people when you're drunk.""

nayeon coos, chasing after you, "awwwwwh did i hurt you? poor baby. here lemme kiss it better." nayeon purses her lips together, pushing her face towards you while you whine and laugh, trying to push her away.

sana pipes up at the word, "kiss? who are we kissing? i wanna kiss!"

momo snorts, playing around with the bottle cap of the soju you had gotten to after you had all decided the beer wasn't enough. her face is probably the most flushed of you all, but she was also probably the most sane of you all currently. "don't you kiss enough?"

sana whines, poking momo's cheek, "no! you don't let me! c'mere-" she leans forward, tickling momo's sides, trying to get her to let her defenses down and land one on her. momo laughs, pushing sana off, scrambling away in urgency.

you aren't faring much better, but then you get an idea, "sanaaa! kiss nayeon! she's trying to get me!"

sana turns to you both, and she's never one to turn down a kiss so she leans across the table, yanking nayeon's head towards her and pulling her away from you. but what surprises you is when she plants a sloppy kiss right on the eldest's lips.

you look at momo, expecting to see a similar look reflected, but she rolls her eyes, calmly picking up the bottle and bringing it to her lips again to take a sip.

they break away with a smack, exaggerated on sana's end who giggles and licks her lips, grabbing the bottle from momo and taking a sip as well.

nayeon blinks, her brain seeming to catch up with her body 2 seconds late. when she realises what happens, she stands up abruptly with a screech, her metal chair scraping against the floor in pain. you wince at the sound, but laugh when you catch her face, now brighter than momo's, hand over her mouth in shock. sana and momo easily join you, cackling as nayeon flails around, sounds coming out of her mouth in incoherent phrases.

it seems the shop owner has had enough of the four of you though.

"yah! out! all of you! bedtime! 2am now! go go!" you all continue laughing as you're ushered out of your seats. you're all too drunk to notice the way the shop owner has fondly been watching you for the last few hours, cleaning around and keeping her shop open later than she normally opens, recalling the days she was young and stupid as well. she shouts at you while she pushes you out the door, but she also shoves a plastic bag of takeaway chicken into your hands as she pushes you out, telling you all to go home and not to cause too much trouble at this time of night.

you all laugh and thank her, sana even goes to kiss her cheek, cooing at how adorable she was in her apron and wrinkles.

when you've finally calmed down and take in the chill air of the night sky, you shiver a little, the alcohol sloshing around in your body not enough to keep you warm.

momo sidles up next to you, linking your hands together easily and pulling you against her.

you grin at her, tightening your grip around her hand that she's shoved into the warm pocket of her jacket pocket.

the peace is quickly disrupted when nayeon sends a stumbled kick your way from behind you. she misses though, tripping over herself and almost falling face-flat onto the ground save for sana hooking onto her waist quickly, pulling her back up with a laugh.

nayeon wraps an arm around sana's shoulder, thanking her for the support. "yah. you two. kiss. i can't be the only one who had to kiss someone today."

sana pouts, "why do you say that like you didn't like it?"

nayeon sputters, squinting up at sana from her slouched position, her weight almost entirely leaning on sana, "no i didn't- i didn't mean it like- no but- ugh-"

sana giggles, shuffling around so she can accommodate nayeon better.

momo turns her head, "no way loser. you two only kissed because you're both so kissy."

"what does that even mean?!"

"sana kisses everyone when she's drunk. and you're just as bad nayeon. i don't know how you can go drinking with just one person. you need at least 2 or 3 to hold you up when you get drunk." momo teases, sticking out her tongue.

"respect your elders you little shit!"

you all laugh at that, nayeon may have gotten you all drinks but she wasn't that much older than you. and she looks hilarious bringing a fist up in the air and waving it around like a little angry old lady, too much spite in too little a body, it was cute.

"wait... so the only one i haven't kissed yet is y/n?"

you freeze, ready to make a run for it at the earliest sign of danger.

nayeon grins, pushing sana off of her and towards you, "let's change that!"

your eyes widen, legs tensing up, ready to rush forward, you pull your intertwined hands out of momo's pocket. but right as you're about to take off, momo smirks, yanking you backwards and spinning you around until you're met with the soft, ready lips sana has wating for you.

"mmf-!"

your eyes are squeezed shut when momo spun you, terrified of falling onto your face, but now all you can feel is her hand still holding yours, sana's coming up to steady your hips, her lips pressing against yours gently.

all too quickly, she breaks away with a giggle, licking her lips again. it must be a habit.

you stare at her dumbly, mouth hanging open, lips tingling with the faint taste of strawberry soju.

nayeon has ended up on the floor without anyone supporting her, cackling loudly and pointing at your dumbfounded look.

momo stifles a few chuckles as well, her hand still wrapped tightly around yours.

sana simply smiles, closing your mouth with her hand, brushing a thumb over your jaw in the process, then tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

you flush up immediately, whipping around and staring at the floor, the tips of your ears bright red.

sana laughs, cooing, "awwwwh! you're so cute! look at her guys! she's blushing!"

"no!" you speak up indignantly, voice squeaky, "i'm just drunk!"

"you're more red than me!" momo joins in, trying to get a look at your face better with a laugh, her nose scrunching up in glee.

you whine, trying to pull away from her, but she doesn't let your hand go, so you end up pulling her along with you as you stomp forward, eager to get home and away from your teasing new friends.

sana laughs, running after you both.

that left nayeon, still on the floor in the middle of the street at 3am. "guys! hey guys! don't forget me! come back! hey- wait!"

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐

the four of you grow easily close after that night. and it helps that by chance, you're all allocated into the same dorm room for the new year. it's definitely a surprise since nayeon was one of the company's top trainees, and the rest of you were foreigners and had only been around for about 2 months. you'd heard it was meant to help the three of you get better at korean, having to converse in korean daily with a korean roommate so that existing friends like sana and momo couldn't get away with just talking in japanese when they were in the comfort of their dorms. plus, it seemed both sana and momo were making a name for themselves amongst the trainees as well for their bubbly idol personality and raw talent respectively.

"how's this?" nayeon comes out of the bathroom and does a little twirl, her hair already curled and makeup applied dazzlingly. she's wearing a pretty silk white dress with little blue bows decorating it, matching the blue ribbons she's used in her hair.

sana squeals, immediately bounding upwards and poking at her. "it's so cute! when did you get this?!"

"the last family trip i went on! are you sure it's okay?" nayeon pouts.

but then momo yells out from behind her, still doing her eyeliner in your shared bathroom mirror, "you look fine stop digging for compliments."

sana laughs cheerily when nayeon sputters back at her, latching onto the older girl and pecking her cheek, "it's okay nayeonnie i don't mind. i'll praise you anytime you want." there's a slight lilt to her voice, she finishes with a wink.

nayeon blushes immediately, but tries to cover for it by turning to you. "y/n? what do you think?"

you roll your eyes from your spot on sana's bed, more focused on applying the dark blue nail polish on your hands. "it's pretty."

"just pretty?" you can hear the pout in her voice.

you sigh exasperatedly, looking up at her in mock annoyance. "you're gorgeous, beautiful, stunning, exquisite, glamorous, everyone at the party will have their eyes on you."

you can hear momo fake gag from the bathroom, and sana bursting into giggles. but nayeon crosses her arms, frowning, "you see when you list it out like that it makes it a little harder to believe."

"ugh nayeon! you look good! what more do you want from me!"

she laughs, leaning down to squish your cheeks together affectionately, "thanks darling, i love my little thesaurus."

you grumble, careful not to get the drying nail polish onto sana's sheets. sana comes back to her position next to you, grabbing your hands and starting to blow on your fingers.

"what time does the party start again?" momo yells out from the bathroom, slipping into her outfit for the night.

"like... 10 minutes ago but it's fine. no one interesting is gonna get there on time." nayeon squeezes in next to you as well, leaning her head on your shoulder.

"that's because you're only interested in yourself."

"hey! i can revoke my invite to all of you!"

"you wanted us to go because you'd be, quote, bored out of your mind with all those mindless prepubescent boys trying to get in your pants! besides, we all got our own invites anyway."

"what?! why didn't you tell me?!"

"you were so cute thinking you were doing us all a solid or something for inviting us." sana speaks up with a giggle, "we couldn't break that!"

"you couldn't sana! i wanted to tell her and shove it up her proud ass but you just love to watch cute girls fumble around don't you?"

sana giggles again, going back to blowing on your nails.

but then momo steps out of the bathroom, clad in a very short bodycon dress, her makeup and hair fully done, the dress cutting open at her midriff showing off toned abs, pretty gold necklace decorating her neck, outlining her collarbones and the plunging neckline that pretty much ended at her belly button, tying together the cutout.

the three of you all stare at her, eyes roaming over the mass of skin, mouths open in... shock.

sana licks her lips slowly, eyes not bothering to meet her best friend's again, "you look... good."

momo smirks, imitating what's meant to be nayeon, "just good?"

nayeon bristles then, snapping out of her stupor, "shut up momo. don't you think you're... showing a bit too much skin?"

momo starts looking around for her shoes, bending over criminally with her back to you all, it's almost comedic how all three of your gazes lock onto her ass immediately. "this is nothing compared to some of the outfits they put us in when we do our showcases. besides, it's not like you can talk." she snorts, turning back around with heels in hand, her smirk never leaving her face as she watches the three of you, knowing exactly what you were doing.

"yeah but you'll... get cold."

"it's an indoor party."

"shut up!"

she laughs, standing back up after slipping into her shoes, "okay! ready to go?"

you gulp, standing up shakily, forcing you to look at her face and not ogle your friend's very attractive body. "y-yeah. took you all long enough."

"you finished practice earlier than us, you had more time to get ready. now let's go losers."

she leads the charge out your tiny shared room, nayeon gets up and follows grumpily. you look back down to sana who's still got her gaze locked on the way both girls' hips sway with each step. you roll your eyes, poking sana and dragging her up with a laugh. sana lets you, her brain short-circuiting, only able to be tugged along.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐

you honestly had no idea how a party of this scale went unnoticed by the company. there were so many trainees you recognised, and even a few idols that were lesser known to the public. it was at someone's house, you don't remember who's, but there was no way you could've gotten away with a party this size back at the dorms.

music was blasting, drinks were being circulated, people were dancing and grinding up against each other. it wasn't a surprise to see the amount of rowdiness going on, that's what happened when you force a bunch of teenagers to undergo strict training and diet regimes, and forbid anything that could get anyone into any sorts of controversies in the future in case you made it and got famous.

the four of you had naturally split up when you arrived, being pulled away by different friends and people wanting to greet you. you spot momo on the dance floor already, not that it was difficult to seperate her from everyone else. sure you were all trainees and went through mandatory dance class, but everyone knew momo was something else when it came to dance. she had an aura about her, one that made people back up and give her space, circling her on the crowded floor and watching in awe of her moves.

you can hear nayeon before you spot her. she's with jihyo and jeongyeon, two other trainees that she was set to debut with, and granted, was naturally close with. they were all top-notch trainees at the company, everyone knew of them, knew that the next group coming out of jyp would most likely include the three of them.

that left sana, someone people naturally gravitated towards. her adorable happy-go-lucky energy was infectious, it was impossible not to fall in love with her at first sight. she was currently surrounded by a crowd of people, laughing and smiling, face tinged with the pink of alcohol.

eventually, someone gets people together for a game of spin the bottle. you're all sitting in a big circle in a room away from the rest of the party, chattering excitedly with the buzz of liquors, an empty soju bottle laying in the middle of you all.

"okay party people! game time!" the original host of the party, jackson wang, saunters in with a charming grin, plopping himself down between mark and jeongyeon. "so i'm gonna assume we all know how spin the bottle works. and if you don't... well you'll find out! who wants to go first!"

everyone looks around at everyone, antsy, unwilling to go first. jackson rolls his eyes, "alright losers. guess it's me." he bends forward and spins the bottle. everyone watches with anticipation, breaths held.

it lands on one of the younger trainees, ryujin. she makes a face of disgust, cringing, but jackson ignores it, quickly swooping in and kissing her.

when they break away, ryujin quickly downs her cup of whatever concoction of alcohol she has, wiping at her lips and pushing him off of her playfully. jackson laughs, backing away and returning to his seat. ryujin goes forward, places her fingers on the bottle, then spins it.

again, you all wait in anticipation, eyes locked on the dizzying movement, until it slowly lands on bambam.

ryujin groans again, bambam looks like he just won the lottery. "nope! i'm not kissing one of you gross guys again, jackson tasted like he doesn't know what a toothbrush is. gimme a dare."

there are shouts of disapproval, but ryujin ignores them all, sitting on her haunches, unmoving.

"okay just because you made that totally untrue comment about my breath, i'll give you one worse than kissing bam." jackson looks around the room, thinking to himself, mark whispers something in his ear and they both snicker, "alright. suck someone's toes for 10 seconds."

"pfft is that meant to be a dare?" ryujin easily leans forward, pulling yeji's sock off and immediately wrapping her lips around her toe. yeji squeals, trying to pull her foot away but ryujin is persistent amongst everyone's hollering and cheering, counting down the seconds.

she finally breaks away with a laugh, making a show of licking her lips while yeji blushes, yelling at her and slapping her arm, shoving her drink into her hand and making her rinse out her mouth.

bambam shyly goes forward next, he spins the bottle, and it lands on nayeon. his eyebrows almost get lost in his hairline with how far up they go, his head shooting up and looking at nayeon who was leaning on jihyo heavily, still laughing at the whole ryujin-yeji situation.

his boys clap him on the back with a cheer, pushing him forward towards the older girl. nayeon blinks, turning her attention to him, realising he had spun her.

her eyes meet yours for a second, and then they flit around the room, landing on sana and momo respectively, it's so quick you wouldn't have noticed if you weren't already locked on her gaze.

bambam moves forward shyly, kneeling in front of her, unsure of what to do. she leans back a little as he comes closer, putting on an encouraging smile, looking up at him.

he takes a breath, then dives down, you can hear their teeth clacking as he accidentally goes in too aggressively, nayeon cringes, but tries to make up for it by tilting her head, pressing her lips against his, trying to urge him to slow down, but bambam moves almost too eagerly, like he's eating her up. in the end, nayeon has to gently push him off of her to get him to stop, he looks dazed as he collapses back in his spot, bright blush on his face all the way down to his neck. nayeon tries to look polite and laughs it off, moving forward and quickly spinning the bottle to move everyone along.

only for it land on momo.

"oh hell no." they both say simultaneously, blushing furiously and gaping at each other from across the circle. you catch sana's eye, supressing a laugh as you look between the two of them.

"dare! i pick dare!"

sana perks up, taking the opportunity immediately, "okay i dare you to kiss momo!"

the boys around the circle all laugh, agreeing with her energetically, starting up a chant. momo sends a death glare towards sana, who just sticks out her tongue at her, making an exaggerated kissy face mimicking momo and nayeon kissing.

with no choice, nayeon shuffles forward, crouching down in front of momo who can't look her in the eye.

"don't fall in love with me or anything hirai."

that gets momo to snort, meeting nayeon's equally nervous gaze, "as if i'll be able to think about anything other than getting rid of the taste of you-" she's cut off, nayeon leaning down to plant her lips on her in haste.

momo blinks at first in confusion, then she's closing her eyes and circling a hand around nayeon's neck, pulling her in just a little closer and returning the kiss. they ignore the roar of the crowd, nayeon thinks to herself how much better momo's lips felt against her own than bambam's teeth did.

that thought quickly rips her away though, scrambling backwards and wiping at her lips in mock disgust, laughing breathily with a pretty blush adorning her face.

momo looks on after her, her expression unreadable. after things settle down again, momo leans forward, spinning the bottle.

sana doesn't even give anyone the chance to think, sliding forward and into momo's lap, cupping her cheek and bringing their lips together. momo reacts automatically, hands circling sana's hips and slotting them together, like they've done this countless times in the past.

watching nayeon and momo kiss was silly, fun, but this, this was something different. you glance at nayeon, who has a hand at her lips, staring at sana and momo make out in front of everyone, eyebrows furrowed slightly. you look back, swearing you can see the hint of a pink tongue poke out from sana, momo's hands tightening around the other girl's hips in reaction, before sana finally breaks away. she stands up, sauntering back to her spot with a proud grin, people are cheering, throwing confetti, bowing down to her as if she just brought rain down in a drought. she thrives in the attention. momo on the other hand is breathing heavily, expression shielded behind her hair, biting her lip and clenching her thighs together.

sana does a round around the inside of the circle, giggling and skipping along in her little pink slip. she finally arrives back to her original spot, bending down and spinning the bottle.

it lands on one of the younger trainees, dahyun. sana smiles sweetly, crawling forward. she whispers a few words to dahyun, who nods shyly, breath picking up, then sana leans in, just pecking her before pulling away again. nothing like the kiss she shared with momo.

you decide you need a drink.

at this point in the night, the kitchen is thankfully much less chaotic. most people are playing the game, on the dance floor, or passed out around the house.

you spoon a ladle of the jungle juice that probably has ludicrous amounts of liquor in it into your cup, gulping it down thirstily. you don't know why you suddenly felt so stifled in that room, feeling hot even in the little cropped top and skirt you're wearing.

"y/n?"

you turn, of course it's your three roommates, all looking very concerned for you.

"hey. you okay?" sana comes up to you first, cupping your cheeks, placing the back of her hand on the front of your forehead.

you wave her off with a chuckle, "yeah i'm fine guys. why did you leave the game?"

"because you left." momo says simply, taking the cup you're still holding in your hand away from you, sniffing the contents.

"you didn't have to do that. i was just taking a water break."

"riiiight. water." momo raises an eyebrow unimpressively, pouring the rest of your drink down the sink nearby.

"i'm fine though seriously! you guys should get back to the game."

"you're not coming?" sana pouts.

"not really feeling it anymore."

"do you wanna go home?" nayeon speaks up then, coming forward to lean on sana's back, her face resting on sana's shoulder, looking up at you with wide eyes.

"what? no! you guys have fun. seriously, stop worrying about me i'm fine!"

"we can't have fun without you."

"i'm sure you can."

"no. we're not the four of us without you. we're just... the three of us." sana tilts her head like a confused puppy, her proximity to you making you dizzy, you're not sure if it's the alcohol, or the fact that she was so close, but you can only focus on her lips, which then remind you of the way her lips had been on momo's lips, that had been on nayeon's lips. yeah you were definitely a little more than dizzy.

"wooahh- too much to drink i think." momo sidles up next to you, catching your waist, and holding you up against her. she jokes, "didn't think you'd be the same kinda drunk as nayeon y/n. i don't know if we have enough personnel to take care of the both of you."

you groan, pushing yourself back onto your own two feet, leaning back against the kitchen bench, "don't compare me to that trainwreck."

"hey!"

you all laugh, sana's hands coming down to squeeze nayeon's that are around her waist, turning to peck her cheek.

"i'm getting tired anyway. let's go home."

"what? guys no- you don't have to do this for me- you can stay-"

"we're not doing this for you idiot. i wanna sleep too. i'm gonna be grumpy tomorrow morning if we don't get enough sleep and i have dance practice with jyp."

"you're always grumpy in the mornings momoring."

"no i'm not!"

"yes you are." nayeon quips.

"shut up or i'll kiss you again im."

that makes everyone pause, processing the words in their head. momo doesn't even seem to realise what she's said, staring fiercely back at nayeon, only focused on winning their little bouts of banter.

you all stand in the kitchen in awkward silence, looking nervously at each other, unsure of what to say.

eventually sana speaks up, laughing edgily. "are y/n and i interrupting something orr...?"

"what?! no?!" they both speak up, protesting loudly.

you laugh, trying to ease the tension that seems to have come out of nowhere. "i could've said that about you and momo sana. that was some kiss." that was probably not the right thing to say to ease the tension.

"that's nothing. sana and i kiss all the time." momo brushes you off, shrugging, but sana looks hurt at the her words.

"nothing?"

"wait what do you mean all the time?"

momo blushes, looking between sana and nayeon. but sana's easily emotional feelings, amplified by her intoxication, have her eyes watering, sending momo straight into panic mode. "wait no- that's not what i meant satang-"

"then what did you mean?" sana frowns, you weren't sure if she was genuinely angry now or still playing around.

"i don't- satang i'm stupid we know this i just say stupid shit- things just come out of my mouth i didn't mean it like that-"

"then in what way did you mean it momoring?" her tone is clipped, throat scratchy.

"satang this isn't fair-"

"what isn't?"

"c'mon- satang please-"

all of a sudden, sana lurches forward, pressing her lips against momo's, trapping her against the kitchen counter. nayeon falls onto you without sana holding her up, you quickly grab her waist, supporting her, but both your eyes move back to sana and momo quickly.

they're kissing for real this time, not like when they were putting on a show for everyone else during the game. and you're both close enough you can hear the wet smacks of lips against lips, the little gasps and whimpers, every breath they take in between each kiss. momo's hands have come up to tangle in sana's hair, pulling her closer, their bodies meeting and moving against each other like they were made for each other.

you squirm slightly under nayeon, hands gripping her waist tighter at the sight, the dizzy feeling from earlier returning full force. you try and force yourself to focus on something else, it was probably a bit weird, to be so close, staring as your two closest friends made out, but you couldn't bring yourself to look away, your gaze lidded at the rushed pace, tongues clashing and being sucked into mouths.

you can tell nayeon is feeling very similarly, her hot breath hitting your lips at a faster pace than normal, laboured with excitement.

there's a crashing sound from upstairs where they were playing the game, followed by loud whooping and cheering. it pops the bubble that's formed between the four of you. sana breaks away from momo, panting, hands having come in to hold onto the other girl's hips, pushing her into the bench further having squeezed their bodies together as close as possible.

"w-was that- nothing?" her voice comes out hoarse and in a whisper, still catching her breath.

momo can't speak, her eyes still tightly shut, shaking her head in response.

"then what was it?"

momo groans, knocking her forehead against sana's gently, "don't ask me that sana." her voice is also laced with shaky breaths.

"why not?"

"it's confusing. you know i can't handle thinking about that much."

"am i confusing?"

she shakes her head again, but then points to you and nayeon, drawing a circle between the four of you, "this is confusing."

that gives sana pause, thinking over the possible implications of momo's words, taking the chance to catch her breath. then she looks up to the both of you, her eyes dragging up from the way you're still clutching nayeon's waist tightly, before meeting yours. the eye contact sends shivers down your spine, even when her eyes leave yours to stare into nayeon's, you can still feel all your senses on alert, breath held, tensions at an all time high.

sana's head tilts again, considering the both of you. then, she seems to come to a decision, and she's just as quick as she always is.

before you realise it, her lips are on yours, hand cupping your cheek, the other wrapped around nayeon to keep her there.

it's nothing like that first kiss you shared weeks ago. that was a simple peck, there and gone. this time, sana's moving her lips against yours, fingers caressing your cheek, down to your neck, lips soft and wet, panting directly into your mouth.

momo forces her eyes open, staring at you and sana kiss with hooded eyes. hands coming back down to grip the bench behind her, knuckles almost turning white from how hard she was holding onto it.

sana breaks away from you, but without taking a breath, turns her head, and starts kissing nayeon.

nayeon is only slightly surprised, almost all her weight leaning on you, gripping the back of your top tightly, reciprocating sana's kiss with as much vigor as sana gives.

when they finally break apart, you're all still breathing heavily, looking between each other, tension surmounting, thousands of words unsaid.

it's nayeon that speaks up first this time. she whistles lowly, letting out a small chuckle, "so... that wasn't... nothing."

"no." momo agrees. their eyes meet.

sana rolls her eyes, getting impatient, "so do you two wanna fuck or do you wanna fight?"

neither of them protest this time, they don't even laugh it off, you can all feel the very real pressure in the air.

"dunno. i think i need a..." momo licks her lips, "another taste to know." then she leans forward, capturing nayeon's lips with her own, straight up moaning at the contact. your thighs clench together at the sound. all of this was getting too much for your dumb little drunk brain. you had been spectating more than you had been involved, and it'd be a lie if you said you weren't turned on by it all.

nayeon and momo's kiss is different from sana's kisses. they're both aggressive, fighting for dominance, their natural banter translated onto their lips, grunts and gasps, trying to one-up each other.

eventually, they break away, but momo transitions straight over to you.

"need to compare." she mumbles lowly before attaching her lips to yours. she's much more gentle with you, teasing your mouth open before dipping her tongue inside, you whine against her, hips moving of their own accord when they grind up into nayeon who's still leaning on you for support.

you hear nayeon swear under her breath, regaining some of her drunk-addled consciousness to grip your hips roughly to stop you from doing that again. but that's the end of her control, she leans in, close enough so momo and you can both hear her, just inches away from your mouths moving against each other.

"my turn."

momo obliges, breaking away from you, only for nayeon to latch on. you can still hear momo's rough breathing next to your ear while your lips start moving against nayeon's, once again, with a completely different kissing style to momo and sana. she's slow and languid, pressed against your lips until you're just about to be out of breath, before breaking away and coming back in. she finishes with a little kitten lick on your upper lip, you whine, pushing your hips against her hands as she growls, pushing you back into the counter.

sana's spent the entire time watching all of you, having enough time to even pour herself another much needed drink. she swirls around the contents of her cup, downing it and speaking up again. "home?"

"home." you all unanimously agree.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐

you wake up hazily with a pounding headache, vision blurred, mouth dry.

you squeeze your eyes shut again, the dim brightness of the room too much for you. you reach blindly for your glasses that should be next to your pillow on the top bunk of the bunk bed you share with sana. instead, your palm comes colliding with something that most definitely was not your glasses.

your eyes shoot open, squinting and trying to focus, as the person you've hit groans.

"10 more minutes."

"...momo?"

momo groans again, burying her face into the pillow you're sharing, hair messily coming to cover her eyes and furrowed eyebrows.

suddenly, memories of last night come flying back to you. you look down alarmingly, lifting the blanket slightly to find yourself very naked, with an equally naked momo curled around you, arm thrown lazily over your side, legs intertwined.

you also realise that this was not your bed. you were on the bottom bunk of the bunk bed opposite the one you shared with sana, this was nayeon's bed. now even more confused, you slowly turn your body, trying your best to not disturb momo who mumbles something while you shuffle around the bed, before pulling you closer into her.

the sudden feeling of her chest now pressed against your bare back surprises you, even though you knew you were both naked. you try your best to not think about it, squinting to look around the room for where nayeon could be if you were in her bed.

you didn't have to look far though, cuddled up on sana's bed right opposite you, is sana and nayeon. and you'd bet they were in the same state of undress you and momo were.

your heart rate picks up as you recall the events of last night. you hadn't exactly done a lot of talking. as soon as you got home, you were all over each other, somehow, you had made the limited space, and the fact that not all four of you could fit on one little bunk bed work for all of you. your thighs tingle with the memory, a blush adorning your face.

eventually, it's sana that wakes up first, turning in her bed and blinking at you slowly.

you let her come to her senses, your eyes drifting down to where the blanket has fallen in her movement, breath catching at the sight of her pretty naked chest moving up and down slowly with each breath.

sana doesn't mind the attention, she never has, she yawns, stretching unabashedly, revealing more of herself, sitting up and letting the blanket fall to her waist. "morning." she grumbles out, her voice scratchy and deep with fatigue.

you gulp, unable to tear your eyes away from her, "morning."

nayeon whines as sana moves, slowly waking up as well, her arm curled around sana's thighs, trying to keep her still.

sana reaches around and pulls an oversized shirt on, patting her hair down. you're not sure if you're thankful or mournful she's covered up.

"what time is it?" nayeon's voice speaks up, laced with the same hoarse tiredness you're sure you all have right now.

sana picks up her phone on the bedside table next to her bed, you're not sure where yours is. "6."

"too early. come back to bed."

sana giggles then, putting her phone back down and running a hand through nayeon's hair. "don't you have a schedule to get to later?"

"yeah later."

"... we should talk anyway." she's strangely serious, normally the most energetic of you all, even in the mornings. it gets nayeon to look up, hair messy, squinting, placing her chin on sana's thigh.

sana smiles at the sight, you find nayeon's glasses next to her bed, reaching to hand it over.

sana murmurs her thanks, stretching out to grab it from you and gently placing it over the eldest's eyes. she looks adorable.

"how long have you been awake?" nayeon directs the question to you, finally able to see you were awake and looking at the two of them.

you smile, "not that long."

"is momo...?"

"still asleep."

"should we wake her?"

"she's not gonna like that."

"she needs to get up in a bit anyway. she has practice with jyp later remember?"

in agreement, you turn in your spot again, smiling at the sight of momo, mouth hanging open slightly, black hair framing her face. hesitantly, you nudge her shoulder. there's no response, so you nudge her again, a little harder. she groans, grabbing your hand and interlacing your fingers, "10 more minutes."

you giggle, "you said that 10 minutes ago."

she mumbles incoherently, drifting back into sleep.

you roll your eyes, nudging her again, except she doesn't respond. so you resort to different measures, your other hand that isn't being held captive by her, sneaks down between the two of you, and you start tickling her sides.

she squirms, blinking, waking up, whiny and giggly.

"s-stop- stop y/n- stop- i'm up i'm up!"

there's laughter from behind you as well, and momo sits up, pushing your hands away to stop you from your attack. not that she needed to, your eyes focused on something else as soon as the covers left her body. but of course, she bumps her head on the bunk, yelping, and cradling the top of her head, her hangover only worsening.

"okay okay guys- before we talk- i'm gonna need all of you to put on some clothes." you speak up, eyes still staring at momo's chest, almost drooling over her.

momo raises an eyebrow, before she shoves her chest into your face, rolling on top of you and squishing you.

"wha- momo- hey! no- mmf-"

you can hear everyone laughing as momo gets her revenge, pulling on the back of your neck while pushing out her chest, squeezing your face in between her breasts.

she finally breaks away once she's had enough, grinning and plucking a shirt down from her bunk on the top bed, pulling it loosely over her body.

"there. better?" she's kneeling on top of you, legs on both sides of your torso, shirt just long enough to reach past her top thighs. you gulp, eyes trained on the skin of her legs. momo rolls her eyes, pulling her shirt down a little more, coughing to get your attention.

your eyes snap back up to her with a blush.

she grins, leaning down easily and pecking you, rolling off of you again with one leg still thrown over your legs and cuddling into your side.

"morning losers."

"you're inconceivable momo."

"where'd you learn that word from? my ass?"

nayeon blushes, digging into sana's thighs. "throw me a shirt you little gremlin."

"get it yourself."

"you're on my bed!"

momo blinks, looking down at herself, finally coming to realise her surroundings. "oh."

sana laughs, pulls a shirt from under her bed and hands it to nayeon, "just borrow one of mine for now."

"sana i just got one for her!"

"give it to y/n."

"you just wanted to see her in your clothes."

"so?"

momo grumbles, handing the shirt she had grabbed for nayeon to you, helping you pull it on, hand skimming over the skin of your side and stomach.

“so…” you cough awkwardly, squirming under momo’s fingers that have stayed beneath your shirt, drawing random shapes into your skin.

“wait why do we need to talk?” she speaks up, leaning on her elbow, face on her palm looking across the room.

sana laughs, “is it simple for you now momoring?”

“is what simple?”

“i love your brain you idiot.”

“huh?” momo looks as confused as ever, too early to be thinking about anything.

sana takes a breath, gripping nayeon’s hand, “i like you. all of you.”

momo blinks, “we like you too.”

“i don’t want to kiss mina the way i kiss you momoring.”

“oh.” momo looks at sana, thinking, “but don’t you kiss everyone?”

sana laughs again, “is that what you think of me?”

she shrugs, “we kiss all the time.” she quickly corrects herself, not wanting to make the same mistake as last night, “and it doesn’t mean nothing. i’m sorry for saying that last night.”

the younger smiles, appreciates the effort, “you’re right. i kiss you all the time. no one else. i think you just get too dazed to notice anything else after we kiss.”

nayeon snorts, laughing loudly.

“what about dahyun last night?” you speak up, recalling the whispered words sana said to the younger trainee.

“we were playing spin the bottle. nayeonnie doesn’t like bambam even though she kissed him right?”

nayeon’s laughs turn into coughs very quickly, “absolutely the fuck not.”

“i was just making sure dahyunnie was okay with me kissing her, i told her it’d be really quick and i wouldn’t kiss her like i did momo. you don’t have to be jealous y/n.” she teases.

you whine, “i wasn’t!! i was just curious…”

“wait… is that why you left the game early last night?”

you feel your cheeks heat up, refusing to acknowledge the question.

“y/n!”

“what!”

“you should’ve told us! or me.”

“no way. i didn't even know what i was feeling. i just needed to get some air."

"will you tell us next time?"

"next time what?"

"next time you feel anything. even if you don't know what the feeling is."

you smile, pulling momo's hand that was creeping dangerously higher out from under your shirt, and interlocking your fingers, "yes. i will. i like you all too."

"blegh."

you and sana both look at nayeon with a frown.

"what?" she asks simply, crunching her nose up.

"nerd." sana pushes nayeon off her thigh, rolling her eyes.

"i'm not good with feelings!"

"get better with them then because i'm not dating an emotionless narcissist."

nayeon perks up, ignoring the insult, "we're dating?"

sana blushes, "i don't know. do you guys want to?"

"i do." you offer sana a reassuring smile, she's been leading the conversation this whole time and it took a lot of courage to do that. "momo, nayeon?"

"i don't think anything changes between us. except we all get to kiss and have sex whenever we want right?"

"momo!" you slap her hand lightly, she snickers.

"yeah. i'm pretty happy with that."

you all turn your gazes to nayeon.

she rolls her eyes, "as long as i get to top momo."

"just try it!"

"i will!"

you spend the rest of the morning, laughing, cuddling, doing things you'd always do together, but now with more freedom and less confusion.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐

sometimes, you wish you had a different dream. a lot of the time really.

it hasn't been a good week. monthly trainee evaluations were coming up, and everyone could feel the pressure. there were rumours running around that jyp was preparing a survival show to debut the next girl group, and he was in the midst of picking trainees to participate, so everyone was on edge more than ever.

the one who had it the worst was momo.

you wince, curling in on yourself, knees to your chest, head resting on your knees, while you listen to your girlfriend dry heave in the bathroom.

nayeon's pacing around the room, obviously agitated, wishing she could do something to help. sana was in practice, you knew how hard she was working recently, she didn't need to worry about anything more right now.

"-stupid fucking trainers. they're all fucking blind she doesn't need to lose weight. they're gonna fucking kill her fuck-"

the bathroom door creaks open. both you and nayeon's heads snap towards it immediately.

nayeon rushes forward, holding momo up, caressing her cheek, brushing hair out of her face.

momo looks pale as a ghost. she's trembling, exhausted, you can barely stand to look at her without breaking down in tears. she knows. she knows how you all felt about her. so even when she's suffering the most, she still manages to crack a joke, "you care about me now im?"

"shut up momo. this isn't the time for that. you should lie down."

momo groans weakly, "can't. need to go to the gym."

nayeon explodes then, "what?! you are not going to the fucking gym right now momo. look at yourself! you're dying!"

"you still think i'm hot though right?" she grins. it has none of her usual sparkle, no mischief, just white teeth and lips.

"shut up or i'll kill you before you kill yourself."

the younger girl shrugs, you can see her bones with the movement.

"don't go to the gym. you already haven't eaten anything for the last five days. you haven't even drunk water for the last five days."

"yeah and i've still got 2 and a half kilos to lose."

"you don't- you shouldn't have to do that! you're skinny enough! you're going to die before you lose that weight!"

momo takes a shaky breath, you're surprised when a tear escapes her eye. even the fact that her body still has enough water to cry, and her not being the type of person to cry much in the first place, especially in front of other people, is shocking enough. she can't hold herself up any longer, collapsing onto the bed next to you. you open your arms immediately, lowering your legs, adjusting so she can lean all her weight on you. the feeling of her body against yours is terrifying. she's all bones. you can feel each rib, every pointy bone in her joints.

"i know. i'm so scared of dying." she whispers out eventually, still crying silently.

nayeon squeezes in as well, holding one of momo's hands, bringing it up to her lips to kiss it softly.

"i don't want to sleep. i'm terrified i won't wake up again. that i won't be able to see you guys again."

there are tears streaming down yours and nayeon's faces as well now.

"then eat. please darling. you need to eat." nayeon begs, wiping at her eyes furiously.

momo looks up at her weakly, smiling even now, "you know i can't. you'd both be doing the same thing if you were in my position right now."

you hold back choked sobs, burying your face into her neck. she can feel the tears staining it.

"it's okay. i'm gonna be okay. we're all going to be okay." her hand finds yours, squeezes both your hand and nayeon's.

"it's not fair. you're pretty much the same weight as me. why are they making you do this?"

she shrugs again, her sharp shoulders dig into your chest, "maybe they're testing me."

"for what?" nayeon says incredulously.

"dunno. if i have the willpower. if i'm ready to die for my dream. who knows."

"it's not willpower. it's fucking starvation. you're not even- you're all muscle. there's nothing to lose. the number on that scale is only higher because muscle is heavier than fat. and you wouldn't have all that muscle if you weren't the best dancer in this fucking company."

"you think i'm the best dancer?"

nayeon sighs frustratedly, "i know you are. darling... please. please just- some water- anything-"

"i can't. i'm sorry."

you've been talking in circles for days. the same thing, over and over again, begging her to eat, drink some water, rest. she's persistent though, hasn't broken once. when she first told you all the news, you were aghast, angry, but not surprised. you all thought you knew what it meant to lose 7 kilograms in a week, it was terrible, but it wouldn't be impossible. they wouldn't set you an impossible task. there has always been importance placed on your weight in this industry. they weighed you every morning before classes, tracked your progress, what you ate, how often you worked out, made sure you were kept consistently underweight, just how the public liked you. if they said momo needed to lose 7 kilograms to be attractive, to get a chance to debut, then she needed to lose 7 kilograms.

it wasn't until around the third day that you realised just what that meant though.

she collapsed in dance class. it wasn't an out of the ordinary experience, they put all of you on the edge of malnutrition, so there were always girls fainting left and right. but it was the first time for momo. and unlike the other girls who were instructed to eat better, momo was encouraged to keep doing what she was doing. because it was working, she was losing a kilogram everyday, more than that at the time because all her water weight was gone first.

so she came home that night proud that she had collapsed. they'd brainwashed her.

and so she kept on going. when all the trainees were off enjoying lunch, she had two fingers down her throat in the company bathrooms. when everyone retired to go home for the night and rest, she'd be running 10 miles an hour on the treadmill at the gym. naturally, her body started shutting down. she was losing too much weight too quickly, she wasn't getting the nutrients she needed to function as a human being, her body was in a state of panic, it was retaining as much weight as it could, it thought momo was in trouble, that it needed to protect her from all of these sudden changes, so it's natural she stopped losing weight at such a fast rate.

she didn't care if it was natural. all that mattered was that that number on the scale was 7 kilograms less than it was when she was first told to lose the weight.

on the outside, you could see how much it was affecting her, not just physically, but mentally as well. you were so confused what to do, you wanted to support her, and as a trainee who had the same dream as her, you understood why she was doing what she was doing, but you also didn't want her to die. you wanted your momo back, the one that smiled and laughed and played around with sana, secretly loving how affectionate sana was despite her outwardly 'cool girl' persona. you wanted the momo that teased and fought with nayeon, the only one that could bring nayeon back down to earth when she was getting too much in her head. you wanted the momo that kissed and pulled you into her whenever you shared a bed, that clung to you in the morning when you had to get up, whiny and pouty and sleepy. she was a shell of herself now. they had ripped the life out of one of your favourite people on the planet.

the door to your dorm clicks open softly.

you're all still cuddled up on the bed, squeezed against one another.

sana walks in, a tired smile on her face. it immediately disappears once she sees the tear streaks on all of your faces.

she rushes forward, cupping momo's cheeks, checking her pulse.

"i'm alive satang don't worry."

"did you eat?"

"you know i haven't."

sana's the most emotional of you all. just seeing her favourite people crying has her own tears welling up.

"oh satang not you too-"

"i can't help it. look at you momoring. why didn't you guys tell me?" she directs that to you and nayeon, frowning.

"you were at practice. we didn't want you to worry."

"momo is more important than practice."

"no satang. monthly evaluations are in two days. you're gonna make that lineup."

"i don't care if i make it if you die momo!"

"stop it. all this talk about- i'm not going to die guys. i'm fine, don't give up on me yet. i'm still here. if you all think i'm not going to make it then how am i supposed to think i'm going to make it?"

"that's not fair momo." you speak up, still cuddled into her neck. "this isn't- this isn't a daily worry. we live in the fucking twenty first century it's not normal to worry about whether or not you're going to live to see tomorrow."

"please momoring. here-" sana starts scrambling around in her bag, pulling out a thermos. "just one please-" she shakes out an ice cube, holds it out to momo in her palm.

momo stares at it, watches it melt, her mouth open, lips dry.

"please it's just one-"

"i-i... i can't-"

sana sobs, head falling into her elbow, crouched on the floor.

nayeon gently takes the ice cube from her, holds it in her palm, watching momo's gaze follow it.

"momo..."

"don't make me nayeon. please. i can't."

"i'm not. i won't." nayeon makes sure momo is still watching her, then she slowly takes the ice cube into her own mouth. she sucks on it, her cheeks hollowing out, melts it in her mouth slowly. when she's done, she opens her mouth, showing she's swallowed it all, then she asks, "do i look different?"

momo looks at her confused, "no?"

"if i went on that scale, how much do you think my weight will change?"

momo gets it, her face darkening again, "don't do this nayeon."

"just answer the question."

"...it probably wouldn't."

"right. look, here, y/n, have one." she reaches for sana's thermos, you hold out your hand, accepting the cold cube, then you pop it in your mouth, burying yourself back to your position in her neck, kissing the skin there gently with your cool lips.

she sighs on top of you.

nayeon's shaking another one out, popping it in her mouth, then she's giving one to sana who has her hand out, staring at momo with wide, hopeful eyes.

momo looks between the three of you, you all had so much love for her, you all just wanted the best for her. it was one ice cube. her body was screaming for it.

slowly, she holds her palm out.

you all stare at her with bated breath, almost in disbelief.

she smiles, "i've probably cried out enough for an ice cube right?"

sana lets out a broken laugh, nayeon's quick to shake out an ice cube into momo's palm.

momo stares down at it, brings it up to her mouth, takes a breath, then encloses her lips around it.

she sighs again, closing her eyes, reveling in the coolness of it, leaning back against you more.

you let her, leaning back fully until you're laid on the bed, spooning her. nayeon comes in behind you, squeezing herself against the wall, an arm coming up to rest on your midriff, her hand able to reach momo's side. sana clambers up as well, kissing momo's forehead and sniffling, looping an arm around her waist and snuggling in. after you had started dating you ended up pushing the two bunk beds in your room together so you could all share the bottom bunk, and so you could use the top bunks for storage space. it was still a little bit of a squeeze but the four of you didn't mind. you liked being as close as you all possibly could.

momo couldn't shake the thought that the ice cube melting down her throat would add on another kilogram or two, but she tried to focus on the feeling of her loved ones curled around her instead, falling into a restless sleep, praying she would be able to wake up and feel like this again.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐

you grip your fork tightly, stabbing into your bland salad.

sana sits next to you, just as stiff, staring daggers across the cafeteria.

momo doesn't seem to mind though. she's happily munching away at her leaves. your heart softens a little at the sight, remembering how far she pushed herself last month, at least she was eating better now.

but then nayeon's laugh breaks through again, loud and bright. your jaw tightens at the sound.

"that's it." sana goes to stand but you tug on her hand, pulling her back down.

"don't."

"why not?" she spits, you've never seen her so livid. she was the happy charm of the company, people forget she could feel other emotions too.

"you'll cause a scene."

"good. then maybe he'll get his fucking baby hands off her."

"we can't. everyone will wonder why."

"why what?" she's still seething.

"why you have an issue with them. at worst they’ll think there’s something going on between you and nayeon. at best they’ll think you have a crush on him."

sana blanches, flicking her gaze over to you, “what?!”

“i don’t like it either. but we just have to trust her right?” you offer a smile, it’s a bit wonky and forced and sana sees straight through it, but it does get her to calm down a bit, taking a breath and slumping down in her seat.

“fine.”

“she loves you.”

“whatever.”

you smile genuinely at momo who looks at you in confusion, her mouth still full of lettuce. you shake your head, gesturing for her to keep eating and not to worry.

it’s not until later in the day when you have combined level dance practice that the issue comes up again. normally, he wouldn’t be near your class, sana and momo were naturally gifted dancers, so they were in higher level classes, and nayeon was an all-rounder, she was always in every top class to ensure she was around other people her level.

“they’d be cute wouldn’t they?” jihyo makes light conversation while you’re all stretching.

jeongyeon scoffs, “are you serious? he’s like… a baby.”

“he won’t be for that much longer.”

“gross dude!”

jihyo laughs.

“who are you guys talking about?” momo moves towards your group, mina in tow behind her.

“bambam and nayeon.”

“oh.” she drops down in a stretch, “what about them?”

jeongyeon snickers, teasing momo, “of course you didn’t know you airhead. bambam has a crush on her.”

“really?”

“yeah. did you see him almost wet himself when he got her during spin the bottle at jackson’s party?”

“it was so funny! and then when he went in to kiss her, that was so awkward! poor kid, i almost felt bad for him.”

“i don’t.” sana speaks up then, her teeth gritted, eyebrows furrowed, not even bothering to hide her gaze, staring at bambam and nayeon playing around in the mirror.

jihyo and jeongyeon exchange glances, confused.

“uhh… you okay sana?”

her eyes snap back up to meet jeongyeon’s, “yeah. fine, why?”

“you just seem a little… edgy.”

sana huffs, standing up again, “just tired.” she doesn’t say anything else, turning on her heel and leaving the training room.

momo catches your eye, tilts her head in question.

you shake your head, speaking up, “i’ll check on her.”

you jog outside, finding her near the water fountain.

“hey.”

“if you’re gonna lecture me again i don’t want to hear it.”

“no i wasn’t- i didn’t mean to lecture you at lunch. i just wanted to check on you.”

she sighs, sinking down into the cushion next to the fountain. you carefully sit next to her.

“i’m sorry. i just- i do trust her i just- i don’t trust him.”

“he’s just a kid sweetie.”

she scoffs, “yeah a hormonal pubescent teenage boy. they’re soo innocent, not like they don’t watch porn and jack off to every woman who even breathes near them.”

you’re about to reply when the door to the dance studio opens again, it’s nayeon.

she pokes her head out, looks up and down the hallway, and spots you, grinning. she jogs down to the both of you.

“hey! what are you guys doing here? class is about to start!”

sana doesn’t bother meeting her gaze, “oh so now you care about us?”

nayeon frowns, looks at you in confusion, you feel incredibly awkward, avoiding her eyes as well, “what’s going on?”

“nothing. go back to your boyfriend.”

“what?”

“you heard me.”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about sana. c’mon, let’s go to practice.”

“you don’t? is it that natural for you to drape yourself all over him?”

“what?”

sana finally looks up, eyes red and angry, “bambam. you know he likes you. why do you entertain him?”

“what? sana he’s just a kid-“

sana stands then, throwing her hands up in frustration, you keep your gaze locked on your shoes, “a kid! i’m sick of hearing that! so what if he’s a fucking kid? we’re fucking kids. you all think it’s so impossible that the im nayeon would ever like someone like him so it shouldn’t be anything to worry about right?! you know what sounds more impossible?! that im nayeon is in a polyamorous relationship with three other girls. three other kids!”

“sana! calm down don’t be so loud-“

“no don’t you tell me to fucking calm down. you see? we have to hide this. us. we can’t even talk about us in public. i was okay with that! because i still had you all. you were all worth it! but you could get with bambam right now and people wouldn’t even bat an eye. they’d celebrate it, congratulate him for pulling the girl, all while we can’t even hold hands in public without people looking at us weird!”

“but i- i don’t want to be with him! i want to be with all of you!”

“then don’t fucking laugh at his jokes, touch his biceps, compliment his fucking hair!”

“but- honey that’s all harmless-“

“you still don’t get it! you-"

the door opens once again, and this time it's momo's head that pops out. she frowns when she sees all of you, walking up, tilting her head in question.

sana huffs, "whatever. i'm not feeling like practice today. tell the instructors i'm sick please."

"wait sana-"

she turns on her heel and struts briskly away.

nayeon sighs in frustration, running a hand through her hair, "what is going on with her?" she mutters to herself.

you frown, the events of the day culminating, you wish nayeon could see where you were coming from, "she told you. i think it was pretty obvious." you didn't mean to sound so clipped, your tone just slipped out that way.

nayeon looks down at you, you were never one to talk back, you'd kept more of your emotions to yourself. "are you angry with me too then?"

"that's not it nayeon. look i don't want to fight. let's just go to practice."

you stand up, brushing past her, unable to look her in the eye. you can hear momo questioning nayeon behind you before you open the door to the practice room again, thinking over sana's words that left a heavy feeling in your stomach.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐

after practice, you and momo go and grab dinner while nayeon has to go to another vocal lesson.

momo's still blissfully unaware, talking about how the dance practice was and how much fun she had in such a big class with everybody. you listen to her ramble with a smile, not wanting to burst her bubble.

it's unavoidable when you go home later that night and find nayeon alone in your dorm, freshly showered and typing away at her phone.

momo skips in first, kissing nayeon and grabbing some clothes to shower into, heading into the bathroom right after.

nayeon looks at you then, putting her phone down, "hey."

"hi." you shrug off your bag, taking off your shoes.

"where's sana?"

"i thought she'd be home by now."

she frowns, "i haven't seen her since..."

you bite your lip, growing slightly concerned, "should we call her?"

"i don't know if she would pick up for me..."

"right..." you take out your phone, scrolling to sana's contact and pressing dial. it rings for a little, and just before you're about to give up, she picks up, giggly and breathy.

"y/n!! i miss you! what's up!"

you squint, there was a lot of background noise, "sana where are you?"

"out! i'm having fun!"

"where?"

"i don't really know but i'll be home soon! i promise! i love you!" she blows a kiss through the phone and then she hangs up.

you stare down at her contact picture, it was of her and a hamster plushie momo had won for her when you had gone on a date to the carnival. you had all agreed it looked like her and she had hated it because she thought you were saying her chubby cheeks were the resemblance point.

"is she okay?" nayeon speaks up again, barefaced with her thick glasses on.

"i think so. she sounded... she said she'd be home soon."

"oh."

"yeah."

it's oddly quiet, awkward. you start shuffling out of your day clothes, picking out pyjamas for your turn to shower after momo.

"are we okay?" nayeon breaks the silence suddenly, eyes seemingly even bigger behind her glasses. she fiddles with her fingers nervously.

you sigh, moving around the small room to clean up a little, if only to give your hands something to do, so you had an excuse not to look at her. "i don't know. i think sana's less okay than me."

"but you're still... not okay?"

"i feel silly. momo doesn't even feel anything about it. i wish i was the same. i know you'd never cheat on us or whatever, i just- it's still hard y'know? watching you be like that with him. like- you wouldn't want to see me all over another guy right?"

"but he doesn't mean anything to me. he's just- he's like my little brother."

"i know that's why i feel silly. i know realistically you'd never leave us for him. but it still hurts sometimes- like- like you're dangling the fact that you can in front of our faces."

she's quiet for a bit. you risk it to sneak a glance at her. she has her eyebrows furrowed, thinking.

you sigh again, moving forward and standing next to the bed. you place your hand on her head, then start running your fingers through her hair.

"i'm sorry. i don't want to be- i'm not trying to be clingy or jealous or whatever i just can't help it. i- i- i love you."

she looks up at you, surprised. your hands move down to cup her cheeks, smoothing out the skin, there.

you lean down, pressing your forehead against hers, breathing softly, closing your eyes, appreciating her presence. then, you move the extra inch to press your lips together, just slowly, softly, only for a second or two.

when you break away, she doesn't let you go, holding onto your wrist and tugging you down gently, asking you to hug her. and you oblige. kneeling on the bed, letting her wrap her arms around you, and place another kiss on the crown of your head.

"i love you too. i'm sorry i didn't- i wasn't aware of how it looked on the outside. i never- because he doesn't mean anything to me like that, i didn't think anything of it. i didn't realise you guys may have taken it differently. thank you for telling me."

you peck the side of her hand that's right next to your face, holding yours. "it's because you're a T isn't it?" you joke.

she chuckles behind you, "yeah and all my girlfriends are Fs. emotional losers."

"repressed freak."

she rolls her eyes, brings you in closer, "i love you."

"you said that already."

"i wanted you to know again."

"looks like our F is rubbing off on you."

she whines, "are you not going to say it back?"

you smile, "i love you too."

when momo comes out of her shower, she curls into bed immediately with you all, tired from her day and wanting no more than to sleep with her girlfriends. she hopes you've all made up and the fighting can stop tomorrow.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐

"did she come home last night?"

"it doesn't look like it."

"fuck she's not picking up her phone either."

"where could she be?"

"what are we going to tell the company?"

"she can't just have gone missing right?"

you're all stressing, nayeon's pacing around the room like she does when she's agitated, momo's trying to call sana's cell, and you're checking her socials and her friends to see if anyone knows where she is.

"what did she say when you called her again yesterday?"

"that she'd come home soon. there was a lot of background noise though, she said she didn't know where she was."

"you don't think she's in trouble right?"

"i don't know..."

"fuck! i never should've fought with her yesterday!"

"don't- no nayeon this isn't your fault at all don't blame yourself. we're going to find her." you step up, halting her pacing, grabbing her hands and squeezing.

she sighs, gritting her teeth, "fine. c'mon. let's go to class, we're late. maybe someone there has seen her.”

before she moves to leave, you cup her cheek, turning her back to you and kiss her in reassurance. she offers a smile when you break away, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes.

momo keeps trying sana's phone while you walk to the company building. by now, you were all relatively well known in the company, and the tension could be felt by newer trainees, they cleared the way as you walked past, not wanting to get caught up in anything.

you push open the door to the dance studio hurriedly, not in the mood for another scolding from the trainers.

but you freeze, spotting sana on the floor, stretching and getting ready.

"y/n? what's wrong?" momo tries peeking over your shoulder to see why you've stopped, and then she spots her as well.

"satang!"

sana looks up, there are obvious bags under her eyes, she's sluggish in her movements. momo pushes past you, dumping her bag down and rushing over.

"where were you?! we've been calling you all morning!"

sana squints, backing away from momo who was speaking too loud for her, "phone died."

"we were worried satang! why didn't you come home last night?" she says the last part in a whisper, not wanting to get sana in trouble with the watchful trainers.

you and nayeon have both entered now as well, nayeon stands behind you a little awkwardly, unsure of how to approach.

"i was out." sana says simply.

"but where?"

"doesn't matter. i'm here now right?"

"sana we were really worried." you speak up now, crouching down into a stretch.

she looks at you, her eyes are lifeless. "and now there's nothing to be worried about. i'm fine."

"what happened to you last night? you said you'd come home and then you didn't. where did you sleep? did you sleep? you look terrible."

she cringes, "gee thanks."

"you know i didn't mean it like that. what aren't you telling us?"

at that moment, bambam chooses to come over and greet you all.

"morning nayeon!"

nayeon is still focused on sana, frowning, but she greets him offhandedly anyway, "morning bam."

"what? no morning for us bambam?" sana speaks up with a teasing smile, it's anything but harmless.

"o-oh! sorry. good morning sana, momo, y/n." he bows to each of you.

"i get it. it's your crush on nayeonnie isn't it? she's so pretty right? and born to be an idol. i can see why you like her."

bambam sputters, completely unprepared, blushing bright red.

sana's smile is sinister.

"sana stop."

she looks at you innocently, blinking, "stop what? i'm not doing anything."

"sana!" behind you, mark suddenly appears, clapping bambam on the back. "last night was fun. you should invite your roomies next time! i'm sure bam would appreciate that wouldn't he?" mark elbows bambam with a snicker.

"oh i'm sure he would. i don't know though, i kinda liked it when it was just us y'know?" she sports a smirk, the one she uses when she wants sex.

mark blushes, muttering something and then dragging bambam away.

"what the fuck sana?" nayeon finally speaks up, glowering.

"what?" she blinks up.

"you were out with mark last night?"

"so what if i was?"

"we were fucking worried."

"and i told you i'm fine now. there was no reason to worry."

"we thought something bad could've happened."

"yeah well obviously nothing did right!? i don't get why you guys are so pressed. i just had a little fun, i needed it, and it was good for me."

"you mean he was good for you?"

"better for me than you were."

nayeon falters at that, hurt flashing across her face, "i'm sorry."

"what for?"

"i didn't listen to you yesterday."

sana shrugs, "it's fine. i get why you like it. i tried it. it's the attention right? it's nice to know someone else is in love with you."

"that's not- that's not what i was doing sana-"

"then what were you doing? you're with us right? so why are you flirting with other people? worried we won't last? backup options? attention?"

"sana- please- can we talk about this i don't-"

"we are talking about this."

"not here. alone."

"you ashamed of me?"

"no! sana what-"

"mark can hold my hand in public. he can kiss me in public. he can call me his."

nayeon clenches her fist, "does he?"

sana shrugs again, not bothering to answer, moving into another stretch. you can't believe her, what you're hearing, you've never seen her like this. never thought she could be like this. momo looks to be in shock too, sitting on her haunches, staring at sana with hurt written all over her face. sana ignores you all.

class starts.

you keep sana in the corner of your eye. she fools around with mark, teasing him, playfighting with him, and ignores the three of you completely. you try and understand where she's coming from, why she was purposely trying to hurt you. she just told you she loved you last night, this wasn't real. she was just doing this as her own personal form of revenge. she didn't mean any of this.

you had to keep telling yourself that.

as class ends, sana looks like she’s about to go out with mark again, but you quickly run out the door, tugging on her arm, “can we talk?”

her eyes soften when she realises it’s you, but she still looks unsure.

that is, until momo links her arm with yours, pleading with sana as well.

“alright.”

you quickly lead her into one of the empty recording studios, gesturing for nayeon to come follow before sana can change her mind. as soon as you’re all inside, you stand against the door, blocking any routes of escape.

sana scoffs when she sees nayeon enter the room as well, but with you in the way, there’s nowhere to run.

“what did you want to talk about?” her tone is cutting, she rubs in between her eyebrows, pushing out the tension there.

“you.”

“what about me?”

“how could you do that to us satang?”

sana sighs, glancing at momo, “you notice now momoring? how come you didn’t have an issue when it was nayeon?”

“w-what?”

“you knew bambam liked nayeon. why didn’t you have a problem when nayeon was hanging all over him?”

nayeon tries to protest but momo replies quickly, wide-eyed, “what do you mean? nayeon doesn’t like bambam though.”

“and i don’t like mark. so what’s the difference?”

“you went after him.” you interject.

“no i didn’t.”

“then how did you end up hanging out with him last night?”

“he saw me crying outside the company. he offered to listen and then to distract me afterwards. i had fun. he didn’t make me cry.”

“sana…” nayeon’s lower lip is wobbly.

“what?”

“…i’m sorry. for not listening to you. i should’ve given you a chance to explain yourself and understand where you were coming from.”

sana’s quiet for a bit, staring at nayeon, turning the words over in her head slowly. and then her own lip starts wobbling, throat constricting, tears welling up.

nayeon panics, “fuck- no i didn’t want to make you cry i didn’t- i’m sorry i made you cry the first time i didn’t- i’m sorry-“ she desperately wants to comfort her but she’s not sure if she can, still in an awkward sort of limbo.

sana closes it though, almost leaping into nayeon’s arms, burrowing her face into her neck and breathing out shakily, sniffling.

“…i’m sorry too. i knew what i was doing- i was being petty and stupid and jealous and i hurt all of you doing that.” she whispers into nayeon’s neck, but it’s quiet enough in the room that you can all hear her.

you breathe a sigh of relief, internal turmoil calmed for the moment. you walk forwards, wrapping your arms around the both of them, feeling momo do so as well on the other side.

“i don’t like him. i didn’t kiss or hold hands or do whatever else i said in there. i just- it really didn’t bother me before. that we had to keep this to ourselves. but then seeing nayeonnie with bambam acting so carefree and- and- everything, i just wished i could grab her and kiss her in front of him, so that everyone knew you were all mine, and that i’m all yours.”

“one day we’ll be able to sana. i promise. and i won’t- i’m not going to act like i’m not already spoken for anymore. i am all yours and i always will be.”

sana sniffles again, you’re close enough you can lean over nayeon’s shoulder and kiss her forehead.

“and i’m sorry for making you guys worry. my phone really did die though if that’s any solace.” she chuckles wetly.

“i have a portable!” momo quickly breaks away, running to her bag and pulling it out, handing it to sana with a proud smile.

sana returns it, thanking her and kissing her cheek, plugging in her phone.

“you were wrong about one thing you know.” nayeon speaks up again, the hint of a smile on her face.

sana stiffens, ready to argue again but not wanting to.

“korea is so homophobic that we can actually hold hands in public without people thinking we’re anything. we could probably get away with kissing on a few rare occasions too and people would still think we’re just really good friends. especially if we’re all kissing each other, they’ll just think we’re… all very friendly with each other and kiss as a sign of affection or something.”

sana laughs out loud, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand, “you’re right. i don’t necessarily have to hide how affectionate i am with you all.”

“and you’re very affectionate satang.”

sana rolls her eyes, hitting momo lightly. but then, her phone lights up, and she seems to read over something. she takes a few seconds, and then she’s blinking up, fresh tears in her eyes, launching forward into nayeon’s arms again.

nayeon grunts, catching her and squeezing back, “i take it you saw my message.”

“mmsorry- i lov- too.” her voice is muffled, but it’s obvious what she’s saying.

you don’t know what nayeon’s text said, and sana refuses to share with you afterwards, saying “nayeonnie’s words are for me only, tell her to do it again for you.” knowing nayeon hates expressing too much, which makes it all the more special to sana, but you’re just happy everything is okay between the four of you again.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐

there was something going on and everyone knew it. the rumoured survival show for a new debut group was apparently set to start filming soon. select trainees were being pulled out of practice and given the news, although they were instructed not to say anything about it in order to not cause discouragement amongst other trainees and to minimise media leakage.

your girlfriends had all been called up and informed that they would be participating. now you were all waiting in anticipation for your own name to be called out.

after the monthly trainee showcase, JYP himself comes to make the announcement.

"i'm sure you've all heard the rumours going around about the new group we're planning to debut. it's going to be televised nationally in a reality-type fashion, so even if you don't make it to the final lineup, making it onto the show itself will be a big deal already, getting your name out there for potential future plans. the name of this show will be..." he pauses for effect, "sixteen!"

there's thundering applause, but you can barely hear it, anticipating, praying he would be announcing the lineup and that your name would be there.

"it's sixteen for the chosen sixteen exemplary trainees that the staff have recognised and recommended. they will be competing for seven spots in this new group. all sixteen trainees have now been notified of their involvement, but if you haven't received any news, don't worry! i always have all of you in my mind, like god, your time will come! so please cheer on and support your fellow trainees in their journeys!"

did you hear that right? everyone chosen had been notified already? so you weren't chosen? you weren't good enough? all that training... all those hours slaving away... all those tears, doubts, connections you've lost, all for what?

you look around, other people are cheering, some are crying, some are in disbelief like you.

your feet move before you can think, pushing to the front of the crowd, grabbing JYP.

"sir- why- why didn't i make it?" you're desperate, huffing, on the verge of breakdown.

he looks you up and down, a frown appearing on his usually smiley face, "what was your name again?"

your heart sinks. he didn't even know your name.

and then a look of realisation comes across him, "oh! you're that girl that's always with nayeon, momo, and sana! you should be happy for them! they're all fantastic trainees, they'll make wonderful idols."

you blink, dumbfounded, mouth agape.

"b-but- i- what was it? was i not a good enough singer? dancer? am i not pretty enough?" you're grasping for straws, anything to help you cling on to the possibility of your dream.

he tilts his head, crossing his arms, "ah- you... perhaps it's because you're always with those three. you just don't... stand out. nayeon has natural star power, her voice is one of the strongest in the company. momo is the best dancer we have, probably one of the best dancers in your generation. and sana has a personality people gravitate towards, she can keep group morale up and maintain public image. let me ask you.. what do you have? because aside from being friends with genuinely talented people, you just seem... average."

your hand falls, head drooping, the words hitting you hard.

"don't take this too personal though! perhaps with them out of the way, you can really find your own light to shine now! i believe in you!" he smiles again, then he's off with a flourish, being guided away by busy assistants.

you stare after him in shock, a flashback of sorts playing through your head, of the hardships you've been through to get to this point, of the tears and sweat you've dripped, it was too much. you needed out.

again, your feet move before you have control over them. mind moving at miles a minute, body on autopilot.

you're back in you're dorm room before you know it, and then your suitcase is being pulled off the top bunk, laid on the floor, and you're stumbling around throwing things in haphazardly. you don't even register when the door opens and three sets of footsteps tread in, too focused on thinking about how to get out, whether you could get to the airport in time, what you would say to your parents, your family, the people standing at the door in surprise, watching you clumsily shove things into your suitcase.

"...y/n? what are you doing?"

you barely look at them to reply, voice light and distracted, "packing."

"where are you going?"

"home."

"what?"

you head into the bathroom, starting to pick off the things you needed, you could leave some things, not everything was going to fit anyway and some things you could throw away.

"y/n wait- stop- just wait-"

you ignore them, clattering makeup items falling out of order into toiletry bags.

"y/n!" it's nayeon, her hands gripping your wrists firmly, not too firm to hurt, but enough to get you to stop. you finally look up at them, the break allows you to really feel your emotions, tears welling up immediately.

"oh sweetheart." nayeon tugs you into a hug, running a hand through your hair comfortingly. you feel sana and momo surround you, placing their arms around you as well. the dams break open then, and you're sobbing into their arms, all of your emotions finally catching up.

you stay there for a few minutes, just crying it out, the girls hushing and soothing you, letting you babble nonsense and cry into their shoulders.

when you finally calm down, you're exhausted, slumping down into nayeon. she supports you immediately, and tries to peek at you from your position in her neck, but you refuse to look at her, your eyes puffy and nose red.

"do you want to talk about it?"

you shake your head.

"do you... still want to leave?"

you take a breath, unsure. "i don't know." you whisper honestly, "what do i have to do here if i stay?"

"you have us." sana says quietly.

you chuckle wetly, "you don't get it. you guys all made it. i'm never going to. i don't- i'm happy for you all i am but- my dream-"

"shhh- it's okay. we... we do get it my love. we were all on this journey together weren't we? we've all had thoughts we wouldn't make it. even nayeon." momo tries to lighten the mood a little.

"but- you've all made it now. i don't even- why would you still want to be with me? i'm not good enough. you all got through. i'm the only one who didn't. doesn't that- don't you think i'm just pathetic? how could you still like me?"

"what?! what are you talking about y/n?! we don't like you for your talent we're not some talent recruiters. we like you because you're you, you're sweet and funny and caring. i know it's hard because we're in this industry so it feels like we're all competing, but you can't- it's not like that for us. don't ever doubt our love for you again."

you sob quietly, emotions still a wreck.

"please don't leave. this doesn't mean anything. there will be other opportunities. your dream is still possible. we might not be able to debut all together like we always wanted to but- but you still have a chance y/n. don't give up on it."

you sigh, too tired to argue, letting them bring you to bed, giving you one of the coveted middle spoon spots and cuddling into you until you fell into a restless sleep.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐

the next few weeks are absolutely hectic. for your girlfriends. you spent most of your time moping around, giving only about 50% in all your classes, motivation completely shot. it didn't help that the three of them started spending a lot more time together, as is expected when they have to prepare filming for the same thing. often you'd find yourself coming home after a long day of practice, and find them giggling and laughing about things you have no idea about, sharing inside jokes and talking about things that happened during their day that you'd be too tired or jealous to ask about.

they tried to include you of course, but you couldn't bring yourself to join in.

internally, you felt terrible. you knew you should be proud, happy, enthusiastic that all three of them were in the process of having their dreams come true. they had worked harder than all of you, they certainly deserved this opportunity, and they deserved you to be in their corner, supporting them and loving them like any other partner would do in this situation.

but you couldn't do it. jyp's words continue to ping around your head like an endless pinball machine. how you had always been in their shadow, how he never saw your worth because of them. a small, petty part of you blamed them. you hated that part of yourself, tried to squash it down as much as you could. but sometimes when you're laid in between them at night, their light breaths deep in sleep, those thoughts come back, and you can't help but be envious of their position, wondering why them and not you.

naturally, you started drifting from them, especially when filming actually started.

they were moved out to different dorms during the filming, split into major and minor dorms so that the film crew could get some reality content. they still texted you often though, asking how your day was every night, they still made every effort to make it work. it was you who really started moving away when they were no longer physically there to remind you they loved you.

you'd cry most nights. cuddling into sheets that smelled like them, watching episodes of sixteen, wishing you were there with them. you missed them.

and then momo gets eliminated.

it's brutal. you're confused when she shuffles into your dorm room, hood over her head, dark circles under her eyes, still red from crying.

you had no idea what happened, the episode hadn't aired yet.

but your heart breaks seeing your girlfriend. you immediately squeeze her in your arms, she bursts into tears again, sobbing, clinging to you, unable to make any words.

she tells you later when you're curled up in bed, what happened and how she got eliminated. when she drifts off to bed, you stare at her sleeping face, now devoid of tears, she looked peaceful. and those sick thoughts come back.

you felt grateful she was eliminated. she was brought down to your level again. she was just another trainee now. it was terrible, but you had her again, you weren't going to lose her. you should've felt angry, sad, disappointed her dreams were just ripped away from her after getting so close. but you felt relieved instead. what a terrible person you were.

soon enough, it's the finals.

momo's dyed her hair a light blonde colour and cut bangs. you went with her and helped her pick it out the day after she came home. she needed a fresh start, needed to forget the pain it felt to be back at square 1.

now you stood with her in the crowd with the other eliminated trainees. you nod at them politely, but you have your hand tightly gripped with momo's anxiously looking up at the stage waiting for your other two girlfriends to appear. you hadn't seen them in months and you'd missed them.

momo had talked your ear off about everything that happened while she was on the show. updated you on everything. it felt nice, to be included again, to feel needed, wanted.

and momo wasn't shy about how supportive she was of nayeon and sana. constantly bringing them up during the day, wondering how they were doing, if they'd eaten yet, if they were getting enough sleep, hoping they weren't thinking about her getting eliminated too much, praying they'll both make the final group.

you agreed with her each time, but she made you feel like a terrible girlfriend. she was what you were meant to be when she was still on the show. you try and make up for it in the last few weeks, making signs and pasting pictures of nayeon and sana on posters, making some for both you and momo to bring to the finals. she grins and kisses you on the head when she sees them, saying how sweet you were, how considerate you were. you smile guiltily, knowing that was far from the truth.

finally, the lineup starts to be announced.

you spot sana on the majors side already, nayeon still on the minors side. you have your fingers crossed, anxiously watching, momo's hand is white from how hard she's gripping yours, just as anxious.

nayeon's name is announced first.

momo bursts into tears, smiling, crying. she's so proud. you are too. she made it. you always knew she would. im nayeon was born to be a star.

and then, after the first seven are confirmed, sana's spot also secured, jyp makes the surprise announcement. it was going to be a nine member group. he announces tzuyu first, as the fan favourite.

and then, momo's name is read out.

momo is in shock at first, but trainees around you start clapping her on the back, congratulating her, and she starts sobbing again, covering her face as the camera pans to her. you quickly let go of her hand, not wanting to arouse any suspicions. she tries and looks at you but she's pushed up on stage before she knows it.

you can see nayeon and sana in the back, crying, in shock as well.

you can't even listen to momo's speech.

you feel like you're the only person in the entire venue again. it was quiet. you were alone. again.

your feet start to move on autopilot again. dissociating.

you manage to slip through the crowd, back turned, not realising the girls were searching the crowd, looking for you. wanting to share one of the most important parts of their lives with you. you were too selfish to let them.

you're at the dorms again, the suitcase is out, already half-packed from the last time you'd thought about doing this. this time though, they wouldn't be able to stop you. there'd be an afterparty, you were sure, they'll probably expect to see you there, they won't. then they'll come home, worried, and find all your things gone. the only remnant of your existence, a letter placed carefully on the bed.

dear nayeon, momo, sana,

firstly, congratulations. if anyone deserved those spots, it was you three. you've all worked so hard to get here, and i'm so proud of you all. your dreams are coming true. everything you've ever thought was out of reach, is about to become reality. you deserve all the fame, money, love, everything, and i know it's going to come your way, because i fell for you too.

i'm sorry. i'm not who you thought i was. i'm not a good person. and you deserve to be with good people. i'm leaving. for good this time. i'm sorry that i chose tonight to do this, when you three should be on top of the world, in a way, it's my own sort of revenge i guess. selfishly making you feel a little of what i've felt the last few months. it's why i can't be with you anymore. i'll only bring you down more. i loved you all. i didn't want to start hating you for being better than me, i wanted to keep the memories of our love pure and joyful. if i stayed, i'd grow to despise you for having what i've wanted for all my life. i didn't want that. i'm a terrible person, i could never ask for your forgiveness, only that you forget about me. forget me and continue living your lives under the spotlight, don't let me drag you back into the shadows. don't try and find me.

i'm sorry.

when they try and call you, you'll be on the flight home, your phone unable to receive any of their messages. you throw away your phone as soon as you arrive, buying a new one and starting your new life.

they barely have time to chase after you. you'd be grateful for that. they're thrown straight into schedules and planning for their debut.

eventually, you become a distant memory for them, as they do for you.

when you're older, you'll find a box you sealed away, filled with pictures of the four of you, young and in love. you'll sit there, thumbing through them, crying, wondering how you could possibly have let them go. you'll think back to your actions, appalled at the person you were, hating the industry for pitting you against them, and then realising it was your fault the entire time. you were young, stupid, greedy, you thought your dream mattered more to you than the girls did. now that you’re older, you realise you were so wrong. the girls were your dream.

you'll buy a ticket for their concert while they’re on tour, and you'll quietly cry to yourself again, seeing them in person, grown up, smiling, singing, doing what they loved in front of crowds of people who loved them as much as they loved you all those years ago. you'll think about making yourself known to them, but you'd hurt them enough. they seemed happy now, you had no place intruding on that anymore.

you were just another stranger now. you have been for years. and you had no one to blame but yourself.

#namosa #samoyeon #twice x reader #nayeon x reader #momo x reader #sana x reader #twice nayeon x reader #twice momo x reader #twice sana x reader #sana #momo #nayeon #minatozaki sana #hirai momo #im nayeon #twice sana #twice momo #twice nayeon #dovveri

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joelsgoldrush · 1 year ago

Text

come back same time and place the next night

prologue / 3k words

pairing: dad's coworker!joel miller x f!reader

raiting: 18+ (minors dni)

series summary: your chances of hooking up with your dad’s soon-to-be coworker are low, but never zero. turns out the two of you have a lot more in common than you thought, especially when you find out he’s going to be staying at your house for a while. you know what they say: if you can’t beat them, fuck them.

series warnings: no outbreak AU, dad's coworker!joel (idk if that's a thing but yeah), lots of feelings (angst/fluff), age gap (reader is 23, joel is 50), no use of y/n, i'm not good at choosing names for side characters sorry for that, some chapters will include smut 18+ and i'll let you know at the beggining of each part

warnings for this chapter: soft!dom joel, oral (m receiving), dirty talk

A/N: HELLO AGAIN i'm back with a new series!!! first of all, i just wanted to say THANK YOU bc of all the love you gave my previous post. i'm so thankful for all the likes, reblogs and comments, you truly made me feel incredibly happy. tbh i used to have a hard time figuring out whether i should start posting my own creations or not, and the support you showed me made me realize that it was definitely the right call. so yeah tysm for that and i hope you also enjoy this new project of mine :) i juIt have one final left and then i'll have a couple of weeks to relax and work on this series! also english isn’t my first language so if you come across any mistake please tell me!

here's my masterlist in case you want to read my other works :)

“Sneaking out of my house / I must be out of my mind / I’m running out of excuses / We’re running out of time / You say the love will come and go / We’ll learn how to ride the ebb and flow / You’ll always leave before the light / Come back same time and place the next night.”

You take another sip of your drink, alcohol making its way through your throat. It leaves a trail of burning kisses down the inside of your esophagus, and you make an effort not to swear as the sensation settles heavily on your chest.

Stacy looks around the bar for a while, her knee impacting rhythmically against yours ever so slightly. Next thing you know, she’s snorting, her blonde hair falling like cascades over her collarbones. “I'm afraid you, my dearest friend, have lost your good judgement. There isn’t a single hot guy in this bar.”

“That’s not true,” your fingers pinch the pink straw floating on your glass, a lipstick stain adorning it. You’re not exactly sure, though. The truth is you aren’t looking for somebody tonight, at least not right now. “Give me a second.”

Scanning your surroundings, you try to concentrate on your quest: finding a new hobby for Stacy. And by hobby, you mean a man she can simp over for the rest of the night. Once you’ve examined the room multiple times without success, you feel… slightly disappointed.

Just when you’re about to agree with her, this pretty waiter comes on the scene, placing a martini under your friend’s nose. “Here it is. Hope you enjoy it.”

Oh.

Stacy giggles at him. It’s that specific kind of giggle you know very well. “Thank you, but I didn’t order this.”

“Don’t worry. This one’s on me,” the hot-waiter answers, giving her a smile that’s all white teeth before disappearing between the mess of sweaty bodies on the dancing floor.

You look at her, because you already know what she will do next. She wiggles her eyebrows in your direction and takes hold of her purse, not without previously drinking almost half of the cocktail she got for free.

Her forehead furrows in a funny way. “It’s not very good. He’s lucky he’s cute.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” you tell her, ignoring her words. “I’m being serious.”

She leaves and you’re left alone, though you don’t mind the lack of company. The beating of your heart seems to sync with the pounding music from the pub. There’s this one girl doing karaoke, but nobody seems to be actually listening to her. You wonder if she’s aware of it, although she appears not to, because her tone gets even more high-pitched every time she gets to the chorus of the song.

After some minutes, you decide to give Stacy’s drink a try. She wasn’t wrong: the taste of it is absolutely awful. Some muscle in your jaw twitches as you cough a little.

“Is it that bad?”

You turn to your side, looking for the owner of that unknown voice that startled you. A man stands beside you, pointing out the martini. Leaning in closer to him, you hand him the drink. “Why don’t you try it yourself?”

His cold fingers brush yours gently when he takes the glass into his hands. The straw vanishes between his lips momentarily, and then he proceeds to chuckle. “You’re right. It’s… definitely somethin’ else.”

This must be your lucky night. When was the last time a guy this good-looking approached you? He jerks his thumb toward the empty chair in front of you. “Are you waitin’ for someone?”

You can't help but smile. “Not anymore.”

The attractive, charming stranger sits down, and you seize the opportunity to take a closer look at his face. You’re not sure of his age, but he’s older than you. He seems to be in his early 40s, the hair on his beard starting to get a bit gray. It’s subtle. If you weren’t such a perfectionist, perhaps you wouldn’t have seen it. But you did, and if possible, it just makes him come across as even more appealing to you.

“If you don’t mind me askin’, why did you order that drink?”

“Well, I didn’t. It was a gift for my friend,” you rest your chin on your palm, giving a half shrug. “She’s with the guy that gave it to her. The blonde girl over there, with the white tank top? That’s her.”

His eyes follow your gaze, finding Stacy just a couple of meters away from where the two of you were talking. She raises one of her hands in greeting, the boy from before attached to her hip like a lost puppy in the middle of the road.

“She seems nice,” he murmurs once he focuses his attention on you again.

“Yeah, she is,” as you finish that sentence, you feel your phone vibrating in the pocket of your jacket. “Excuse me.”

It’s a text from Stacy. Said message reads:

whose dad is that??? he’s hot af

You laugh at her occurrence, and he tugs at his shirt collar. “What happened?”

“She texted me: whose dad is that?” staring at him, you lift an eyebrow. “Do you have any children I should know of?”

The stranger seems to hesitate before replying. “No, I don’t,” you watch him lick his lips. “Why? You’re not into dads?”

He's cocky. Good thing you like cocky.

Time flies. You learn some things about him: he’s from Texas (the southern accent gives him away) and works as a contractor (just like your dad, you think, which is funny.) When he reveals how old he is, he seems to look for any sign of discomfort on your features. “I’m forty-five.”

“Twenty-three,” you retort with your own age. He glances up to the ceiling, and you give a bitter laugh. “Is it a problem for you?’”

“Shouldn’t I be the one askin’ that to you?”

You flutter your eyelashes at him. “I don’t mind.” If anything, you like him more. However, there’s one mystery left to bring to light. “What I do mind is that we’ve been here for almost an hour and you still haven’t told me your name.”

He leans back in his chair. “Let's play a game.”

“Be careful. I’m really competitive.”

“You have three chances to guess my name. I’ll just give you my initial. You gotta do the rest, deal?”

What were the odds of guessing it? I should take the risk, you think as you find yourself already nodding your head. “Deal.”

“It starts with the letter J.”

“Jack,” it’s the first name that comes to your mind. For an instant, you believe you’ve won, but then you catch him smirking. “It’s not Jack, isn´t it?"

The corner of his mouth turns up. “Keep tryin’.”

“Josh?”

“Ice cold.”

“Joe?”

Something you're unable to even distinguish glows in his eyes. “I’m givin’ you one more chance.”

“So I’m close?” you ask him, probably too enthusiastic. He doesn’t say anything else, so you go on. “Is it Joel?”

He places a hand on top of his shirt where his heart is, pretending to act relieved. “Fuckin’ finally.”

You punch your fists into the air. “Yes! I knew I was gonna get it.” A sincere smile takes place on your face. “What’s my prize?”

“Well,” he inches forward, his pinky nudging your wrist, that mere touch giving you goosebumps. “You could give me your number and go on a proper date with me.”

God knows you want it. Rising from your seat, you tuck a lock of brown hair behind his ear. “I was thinking of something else.”

That’s how you end up in the ladies restroom, your back flushed against the wooden door as Joel presses his clothed knee between your legs. You moan into his mouth without thinking if there are any other people outside waiting to use the bathroom. Joel draws in a long breath, grinning as he takes in the sight of you. “You wanna put on a show for the others? I'm not one to judge."

“I want to suck you off,” your hand is dangerously close to his crotch, your nails ghosting over his zipper. He seems to be having an internal fight with the last brain cell he has left, but then he detaches himself from you, unzipping his jeans. The sound of his belt hitting the floor with a thud is what finally leads you to fall to your knees.

He’s big. You can tell his size from your position, a wet patch forming into the fabric of his boxers. Playing with the waistband of his boxers for a mere second, your self-control attempts to falter. You grab him by the base, stroking it experimentally. Joel fights back a groan, urging you to take him. “Come on, sweetheart. I don’t like t’beg.”

But you do, that’s the thing. “Please,” you whisper, hoping he’ll hear you. His eyes find yours and suddenly it clicks. A lightbulb goes on in his head. He curses under his breath, directing his dick towards your open parted lips, and your eyelids get heavy as the taste of his precum invades your tastebuds.

It’s not your fault he has an amazing dick.

You begin to bob your head, taking more and more of his length with every one of your short movements. Slick must be already staining your own panties, but you can’t get yourself to care about that insignificant detail. Not now, when Joel’s hips thrust deeper into your mouth, his tip brushing the back of your throat and making you gag. It's dirty, and you should probably be ashamed of getting caught by a bystander. All your worries are swept away from your mind the moment he decides not to keep quiet. “Fuck, baby. Knew you would put that gorgeous mouth to good use. Attagirl, takin’ me so well.”

A stupid whine gets lost somewhere in your vocal tract. Intertwining your fingers with his, you locate his wandering hands on your hair, wishing he'll take the hint. He does, and grabs a handful of it, pulling you off his cock.

“You really like this, don’t ya’?” Joel smears your lower lip with your spit. “Were you thinkin’ about this while we were talkin’ back there?”

“Y-yes,” you try to take him in your mouth again, but he doesn’t allow you to, his iron grip on your nape getting tighter the more you fight against it.

Then he lets you have it. “Bet you get off on this too,” his voice drops an octave, and it sounds so nasty and intimate you’re on the verge of crying. With teary eyes, you swallow around his length.

You lose track of time. His bare thighs tremble and the only noise you can hear is his heavy breathing. “F—fuck. I’m close, where do you want it?” Mumbling something you can’t even comprehend with his cock still in your mouth, his thrusts begin to lose finesse, thick fingers holding you where he needs you the most. “So good, baby. Lettin’ me have you like this. Fuckin’—“

He’s about to come.

“—good girl.”

It all happens so fast you have to remind yourself to gulp down his cum, hot and sticky and just Joel’s. You patiently wait for him to come down from his high, nuzzling his happy trail. He helps you stand up, kissing you and tasting himself on your tongue. As soon as he tries to sneak a hand into your panties, getting closer to your aching cunt, you recognize your phone ringing in the distance.

Groaning, you stretch your arm, answering the call. “Hello?”

“Well, hi. This is awkward.”

You frown. Joel mimics you. “I’m sorry, who’s this?”

“I’m calling you from Stacy’s phone. We were making out and then she told me she was feeling sick, so I took her outside… and now she’s throwing up,” the boy on the other side of the line explains to you and you detect a hint of agitation in his voice. “She asked me to contact you.”

“Oh, God. Hot-waiter?”

“Yeah, she also said you were probably going to call me that,” he seems to move his phone away from his ear, and then talks to you again. “She’s not passed out, but she shouldn’t stay here.”

Does he actually think you’re going to leave her alone? “Can you tell me where you are?” you suggest him while Joel tucks himself back into his boxers.

“Next to the parking lot.”

You hang up after telling him you’ll be there in five minutes, and you feel Joel’s lips on your neck, a sigh spilling from you. His teeth nip at your sensitive skin. “You gotta go?”

Humming, you smooth down your skirt, facing the mirror and observing your reflection, some leftover mascara sticking your eyelashes together. He appears right behind you, his broad frame becoming more visible this way. “Stacy’s throwing up. I have to take her home.”

“Do you have a car?”

“No, but I’ll call an uber. It’s no big deal.”

Joel puts his hands on his hips. “I brought my truck. Let me help you.”

Of course he has a truck.

“Joel, you don’t have to,” you massage the back of your neck, suddenly feeling very self-conscious.

“It’s the least I can do,” tilting his head, his lips catch yours once again. “Consider it my way of thankin’ you, since I cannot return the favor.”

It shouldn’t feel like this. You weren’t used to doing this kind of thing on a regular basis, but you’re more than sure that men don’t treat you this way after sucking them off. Still, you accept his offer since it means you’ll get to spend more time with him.

He walks you out and helps you get Stacy on her feet. As she sees Joel, she spreads her arms wide, hugging him. “Oh my God! It’s the hot dad!”

“Sweetie, you have like— puke all over your clothes,” you tell her, so Stacy chooses to hug you instead. “She gets pretty sensitive when she’s drunk.”

“I can tell,” Joel opens the back door of his truck, jerking his head in the direction of it. “Get her inside while I start the car.”

It all goes pretty well from then on. He asks you for Stacy’s address and you give it to him, the palm of his hand resting on top of your left thigh. Stacy gets comfortable in the back seat, yawning. “You two look like my parents before they got divorced.”

“That’s a really nice compliment,” you mutter with irony as Joel laughs by your side, rubbing his chin.

Soon after that, she falls asleep. Joel parks his car right in front of Stacy’s porsche. He glances over his shoulder, making sure she’s still sleeping before his seatbelt’s off and he’s grabbing you by the jaw, leaning in for a kiss. The fucker’s a very good kisser, you notice throughout the night.

“Are you gonna give me your number?” he murmurs against your mouth, his hot breath mixing with yours.

“It depends. Will you call me?”

He tells you he will, and you prefer to trust him as you watch him save your number, a smiley face next to your name.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Joel doesn’t call you.

You don’t want to admit it, but it’s starting to get to you. He did sound honest. Why the hell did he treat you like that if he wasn’t planning on calling you? Why did he insist so much on getting your number?

Men suck. Joel sucks, you decide after a whole afternoon of staring at your phone, waiting to receive a text from him. Given the situation, anything would make you feel better.

Hey! It’s Joel, from the bar. I’m so sorry for not calling you. I forgot to tell you I’m married and have three children, two cute little puppies and a cat. Anyways, what a great night we had! Take care!

Okay. Perhaps not anything.

You’re home, sitting on the couch while you watch a meaningless TV programme. It consists of answering random questions, and if you get them wrong, you fall down some dark tunnel that only God knows where it takes you.

Normally, during a night like this, you’d be studying or perhaps at Stacy’s. But tonight, your father had asked you to actually stay. He didn’t tell you why he specifically needed you there, and you didn’t bother to ask him.

Out of the blue, you hear the doorbell ring. None of your parents seem to be on the first floor, so you walk to the door, opening it.

You choke on your own saliva.

Joel’s here. Joel, who didn’t call you. Joel, who looks absolutely good with his hair slicked back.

“Did I ever tell you where I lived?” the tone of your voice falters, your legs suddenly feeling wobbly.

He can’t believe it either. “No. I must have the wrong address,” keeping his eyes fixated on the box of chocolates dangling from his hand, he straightens his back. “What are you doin’ here?”

“I should be asking you that,” you hiss, your pupils flared with anger. “Why the fuck are you at my house, with a freaking box of chocolates, when you couldn’t bring yourself to call me?”

Then, you hear the sound of footsteps coming from the kitchen. It’s your dad. He contemplates the scene with a smile. “I see you’ve met my daughter. Trust me, my wife and I taught her better manners than this. Don’t know why she didn’t invite you in. Food’s almost ready!”

You’re about to short-circuit. Definitely not a joke.

“Sweetheart, this is Joel Miller. Remember I told you last week that someone from the company was coming over for a while? Well, this is him,” your father chuckles, expecting you to come up any kind of answer.

Joel’s faster than you, intending to shake your hand, those same calloused fingers that he had used to touch you in that dirty bathroom now playing dumb. “Nice to meet you.”

If he wants to pretend you don’t know each other, then so be it.

You squeeze his hand without measuring your strength. “Oh, the pleasure’s all mine, sir.”

Turns out that your chances of hooking up with your dad’s soon-to-be coworker were low, but never zero.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

tags: @spurz :)

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echojays · 19 days ago

Text

── .✦ date night

✮ . ⠂ phillip graves x reader

wc; 1.3k

summary; a dinner date with phillip has you reminiscing about the first time you met.

warnings; reader wears a dress and a necklace but no female pronouns are used? does this count as fem reader ? idk .

a/n; smbody sent in an ask saying how much they liked the other fic but i deleted it on accident and i can't get it back and i actually like threw my hands above my head in grief and guilt at my actions. sorry anon. this one is for you. sorry it took so long to write also !! i have actually been crashing out and getting throttled by my bpd and also transferring colleges and fighting for my life in general so i have not been able to write at all. but we persevere in the name of phillip graves x reader fanfiction. amen.

— — —

His hands are warm as they brush against the nape of your neck. They’re always warm. He’s always warm. The man could be a fucking space heater with the temperature he’s constantly running.

Your eyes flick up to his reflection in the mirror— he’s lasered in on getting this damn necklace clasped. He furrows his brow as he misses the chain loop with the clasp again, shuffling a little closer as he lets out an aggravated huff. He’s not used to being so wholly gentle with you. You give him grace.

He’s getting practice in— you’ll give him that, too. You wake up to coffee and a kiss most mornings when he's home, and he’ll scratch your back if you toss and turn in bed for too long (which, by his definition, is any amount of time at all). You conclude that gentleness is something not learnt all at once. The same man you’ve watched disassemble and clean a gun with a precision you didn’t know was possible has just fumbled getting this necklace around your neck for the third time in a row.

You’d offer to do it yourself, but you know better than that. It’s a matter of his pride at this point.

It’s four more tries until he finally gets it. He throws his hands up like he just won the lottery before kissing the back of your neck.

“Jesus Christ. I’m never doing that again.”

You smile at his reflection as he meets your gaze in the mirror. There’s a long moment of silence as he appreciates the sight of you. He snakes his arms around your waist and hooks his head over your shoulder, and there’s a selfishly longer moment of silence as he appreciates the sight of you with him.

“Look at us.”

You have been. You raise an eyebrow.

“What about us?”

“Pretty couple.” He states simply, pulling away to grab his car keys off the dresser and spinning them around his finger. “You ready to roll?”

Everything on the way to the restaurant reminds you of your first date.

You remember that evening perfectly well, both of you a bit more timid and a hell of a lot younger. It was a blind date a mutual friend had set up, which scared the hell out of both of you. You weren’t entirely sure what to make of each other at first. You certainly weren’t sure what to make of his beat-up Silverado when you saw it pulling into your driveway. But the date went perfectly, and the one after that, and the one after that. The truck, you soon learnt, didn’t matter— the boy that drove it around was a keeper.

At some point you convinced him to retire it get a new one. The new one was lifted, much to his delight and much to your dismay, especially as you’re practically crawling up the side of it in your dress to get in the front seat. His hand finds the small of your back as he helps you up and in. The door shuts beside you, and the car is silent for a moment. You fold your hands in your lap and look down at the ring on your finger.

Things changed— like they always do— after the two of you met. He wasn’t a marine anymore, he was a CEO. A commander. New paychecks. New truck. New house. New scars. Coming home with a fresh red line across his cheek and a bit of his ear gone. You plainly remember getting upset about how close of a call it must have been. Taking his head in your hands and staring at it. Contemplating how near whatever caused it came to striking him through the head.

You kissed it and told him he pulled it off well. He remembers that.

He shuts the driver’s side door and the truck rumbles to life. His hand finds your thigh on instinct, idling there as he pulls out of the driveway and starts down the state road out from the house. That’s another thing that’s changed, you count,— is that six or seven?— it all feels a lot more natural than the first time. You both sit in silence the entire car ride, but it’s not the same awkward, unsure silence that you two tried desperately to fill on the first date.

There’s nothing either of you can think to discuss and that is perfectly okay with the both of you. Your hand rests on his as you watch the trees go by.

He glances at you out of the corner of his eye.

Time with you doesn’t need anything particularly exciting, anything spurring it forward and keeping it full. Initially, all the showmanship he loves very much was good cover for how horribly smitten he was over you. Remarkably, he found, it worked. You were enticed, charmed, and unbeknownst to him, saw straight through the flamboyant bullshit and determined to rip it all away.

You met him— the real him— in bits and pieces as he let them show. You fell in love with him again and again.

Unfortunately, he still very much enjoys getting a rise out of you. Him and his smart mouth are a package deal.

He pulls into the lot and helps you out of the truck. The restaurant is, as you note out loud before stepping inside, “fancy as hell”.

You’re seated quickly in a small booth in the back corner, the candle in the middle of the table lighting up both of your faces. You smile softly at him. He grins. You can’t tell if he’s about to say something cocky or sweet.

You wordlessly raise your brows, tilting your head slightly. Spit it out.

He does. “You look amazing.”

Not cocky. Unexpected.

You’ll take it.

You lean forward, weight against the table as you shift and pluck the menu from between the two of you with a smile. “You say that a lot.”

“I mean it.” He hums, ankle bumping against yours under the table. You can’t tell if the contact is on purpose, if this is his way of getting a reaction out of you under the facade of being genuine. “Every time.”

If that’s his goal, he wins, and you shoot him a stupid, flustered grin as you flush red.

The rest of the evening gently moves along. You split a bottle of wine and pick off each other's plates, talking back and forth about work and life and everything that happens when you’re apart.

He loves you with all of his heart and hates how much you manage to pull from him, how you get him prattling on and on with nothing more than a tilt of your head. It’s an art you’ve mastered, one that, unlike him, you never gloat about. You’ll take your win in silence.

It’s completely dark out by the time you leave, the moon lighting the lot as the two of you quickly shuffle towards the warmth of the truck. You clamber in before he does, starting the car and turning the heat on high. He pulls himself into the driver’s seat, slamming the door behind him with a huff.

The ride back home is similarly quiet. You sit in the hot air, head tilted back and eyes closed as his hand moves back to its place on your thigh.

He remembers the drive back to your house after the first date. Infatuated and doubly scared shitless.

He’d walked you to the front steps of your house in silence, and before he could get any words out, you’d asked if you could kiss him. Gave him the grin he’d been flashing you all night that suddenly made him consider that maybe you’d read him to filth, that you’d beat him at his own game, that he was way in over his head.

Your hand drapes gently over his, thumb running over the wedding ring on his finger.

He wonders, watching the road visible in the headlights, how the hell he got so lucky.

— — —

hey !! it’s me !! echojays !!!!!! thank you for reading !! if you enjoyed this, consider becoming a beta reader— dm me here on tumblr if you’re interested !! you get super awesome early access to everything and i would love to beta read for you if you write in similar fandoms! (please only reach out if you’re 18 or older!)

p.s. !! art / writing reqs are open, feel free to send in anything !! >:]

#phillip graves x reader #phillip graves fluff #phillip graves #cod mw2 #mw2 x reader #cod fluff #cod x reader

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little-pondhead · 2 years ago

Note

Some fic because I love your au, Fenton is gender brainrot, and little baby dan cracks me up. Full disclosure, my only familiarity with DC is DP crossover fanfic, and a Batman movie I fell asleep during. (If I had a better grasp on the characters I would totally write more :(( i love interactions) also sorry for the weird spacing. Idk why tumblr did that

~~~~~~~~

There was an empty cardboard box on the table of the Justice League’s main conference room. Taped on the top flap, next to a doodle of Fenton’s logo, was a jump drive.

Heaving a sigh, Batman plugged it in and pulled up his screen on the projector. The drive, which was named “little baby dan’s evil playtime”, contained two files; WATCH_ME_FIRST.mp4 and its-a-secreeeet.pdf. He clicked on the video file, and immediately the projector filled with a blurry close-up of Fenton’s goggles.

After a moment of fiddling with the camera, Fenton stepped back, giving a cheery wave. His lab coat and goggles were a pastel pink, which was new. “Heeeeya, Bats! Whoever else is there! If you’re watching this, you probably weren’t there when I dropped the box off, aaand it’s probably empty.”

He clapped his hands together gleefully. “And Connie, if you’re there, this is payback for cussing around my daughter.” Batman was instantly relieved that Constantine wasn’t on base. Hopefully the situation wouldn’t require Constantine’s expertise. (Or any of the Justice League Dark. Fenton seemed determined to drive them all to an early grave with his casual refusal to acknowledge the supernatural air around him.)

“Now, as you’re all heroes, I’m sure you’re all familiar with the whole,” Fenton paused for a moment, as if searching for the proper words. “”You ate a burger on a Tuesday or something equally inane, and it kickstarted a series of events that led to you going insane and evil and murdering 95% of the Earth’s population and now you must fight your evil alternate self, because your time-controlling cryptid Peepaw said so,” shtick, so I’ll skip the backstory. Say hi to Dan!” Fenton grabbed the camera, and Batman quickly jotted down several notes about the concerning number of things the boy had just said.

The camera swiveled around to show Nightingale, holding a strange beast in a manner that reminded Batman of an “elongated cat meme” Nightwing had shown him when he was still a Robin. The creature bared a maw full of razor sharp fangs at the camera. Nightingale adjusted her grip to hold the creature’s paw and make it wave, which evoked a deep growl.

“Haha, he’d kill me if I did that. Dan likes Nightingale much more than he likes me.”

“Because the worst she has ever done is attempt to shoot me.”

The camera had moved, so Batman couldn’t visually confirm that the deep voice had come from the creature, but the voice didn’t match any of Fenton’s previously revealed companions. “Yeah yeah, her aim sucked back then.” Fenton gave the camera a toothy grin that was only slightly less unnerving than the creature’s. “Dan’s not technically me, he’s much more like Dani, actually, but the world would probably end again if we left him with his other... What did you call him?” Fenton glanced offscreen.

“Bane of my accursed existence.”

Fenton chucked. “The other half responsible for his existence.” Batman added more notes to his file. “So, yeah, Clocky left him with us for a bit to help along his rehab. But a certain psychologist-in-training I know says that repressing rage isn’t healthy, and even without a lot of his powers, he can wipe out most of a city in- what, an hour? We tested it. It was around an hour.”

Everyone present shared a look of deep concern. As if able to see their reaction, Fenton quickly held up his hands in surrender. “Don’t worry! Clocky reset it. Approximately zero people have died from Dan in this timeline.”

“Yet.” Came a furious rumble from off-screen.

“Yes, you’re very scary.” They heard Nightingale coo.

Fenton laughed. “Yeah, we need him- and all of you, -out of our hair for a bit while we concoct more evil plans, and you’re all the least likely to die to him, so you get to babysit! Thanks!”

He reached to shut off the camera before pausing and turning away. “Foley! Which of the furries is the one who really likes animals?”

“Man, do you realize how that sounds out of context?” Foley laughed. “I think Tim said it’s the little one. Damian?”

Fenton nodded and turned back to the camera. “Don’t let Damian try to adopt Dan. Or anyone. Dan will bite their hands off. I mean it!” To emphasize his point, he removed one of his hands.

Batman sighed and added “ability to remove limbs” to a list of Fenton’s powers.

“I’ll include a list of “tasks”” Fenton’s disembodied hand made finger quotes, “we gave Dan to keep him occupied. There’s some at the bottom for you guys. They’re mostly just blatant abuse of his powers for the sake of fun and science. I’d appreciate it if you’d let him mark things off the list and add notes on how it goes. Or you can do it. Or I can steal your cameras. Your choice.”

He thought for a second. “I think you’re supposed to leave, like, pizza money or something, but I don’t think you can get pizza delivered to space. Anyway, thanks for letting me blab your ears off while Dan’s probably committing war crimes for twelve minutes. For your sake, I hope he inherited my interest in space. Good luck! Thanks for babysitting!”

Waving with his still detached hand, Fenton ended the video. Batman closed it and opened the PDF as the few other members present murmured amongst themselves. Most of the pages were filled with a curling script Batman didn’t recognize. The fourth page had a huge, bolded header, reading JP TASKS.

The door opened and shut in half a second as the Flash burst in. “Superman!” The speedster wailed. “I can’t get this thing off of me!”

The Flash waved his arm around, sending small droplets of blood flying as he tried to dislodge the creature sinking his teeth into the speedster’s arm. Batman raised an eyebrow beneath his cowl as Superman quickly lent his super strength in attempt to pry the creature’s jaw open. Dan didn’t budge.

Well, he could certainly see the family resemblance been Fenton, Dani, and Dan. Shaking his head, he turned back to the list.

Task 1: Find Dan. He’s probably attacking someone.

He highlighted the text and crossed it out. This was going to be a long shift.

[Anon, this is me crying over the wonderful gift you have given me. You bastard.]

---

"Do you think Fenton's regeneration powers extend to his..." Green Lantern frowned, trying to remember the word the kid had used but coming up blank. "I dunno. But do you think if we cut off little Dan here, he'll heal back up with no problem?" He gestured helplessly to the scene in front of him. Flash was still screeching about the beast on his arm, and now Superman and Wonder Woman were trying to pry him off. Batman was standing to the side, silently bemoaning the lack of quiet. He just wanted one peaceful shift. Just one. Please.

"I'd like to see you try, hero. And I'm not little." Dan spoke, startling all of them. His grip on Flash's arm tightened, making the speedster squeal before releasing the man and spitting out a mouthful of his blood. Batman noticed that his mouth didn't move despite the clearly spoken words. In fact, when Dan closed his mouth, it was like he didn't have one at all.

"So you do speak!" Superman marveled.

"Of course I do. I am not unintelligent, unlike you lot."

Despite his pain, Flash still made sounds of protest that everyone promptly ignored.

Superman flushed. "I just wasn't sure. It was hard to tell in the video."

"Ah, yes. The video that the Fenton menace sent you. Was there a note for me in the flash drive?"

"Uh, no." In one of his less finer moments, Green Lantern stuttered over his words and moved in front of Batman, obviously lying. Dan merely growled and flew through both men, heading straight for the giant monitor. Batman barely suppressed a shiver. Density shifting? Might as well add it to the list. He could see Martian Manhunter, who was in the back of the room, tilt his head at the display.

Dan ignored the room as he used his entire body to manipulate the computer mouse and scrolled back up to the top of the page. Staring intently at the scribbles no one could make out, the heroes could do nothing but shoot each other nervous and confused glances. More than a few of them jumped when Dan chuckled deeply. Honestly, his tiny body was at complete odds with his baritone voice.

"Maybe rehab will be fun if he's letting me do this." Dan sneered, flashing their reflections a sharp fang. No one wanted to ask what exactly he was in rehab for. The little beast turned his gaze to Batman. "You are the one called Batman, who rules the cursed city, correct?" The dark hero nodded, not trusting himself to say anything. "Excellent. You will be my chaperone for now, just as Fenton decreed it. Good luck, mortal man. Pray, I do not destroy your home a second time."

Without any time to unpack that conversation, Dan promptly disappeared from view. Some blinking text caught his attention, and Batman scrolled back down to the English text, glancing at the next few items on the list.

Task 2: Do not let Dan read his portion of this letter until you have a way to track him. There is no containing him.

Task 3: Keep him with a chaperone at all times. (If you can)

Task 4: Do not let Dan back into Gotham unless you're fine with a sudden decrease in the clown population.

Task 5: Take him for a walk in Death Valley. He likes hunting lizards.

Task 6: Make sure he goes down for his 2pm nap every day.

Task 7: He'll ask for it, but do not give him any burgers for mealtime. It upsets his stomach.

Task 8: Dan gets ONE(1) sweet after dinner before brushing his teeth. Those green pop rocks Batman always carries will do fine; he likes those. :)

A sudden alarm blared from his wristwatch, making Batman tear his eyes away from the screen, indicating an emergency at Arkham. This time, Batman actually sighed out loud. There was more to the list, but right now, he really needed to find their new charge before he killed the Joker, from the sound of it.

#pondhead replies #anon let me kiss you on the mouth (platonically)#danny phantom #little baby man danny #except he's dan #supervillain danny au #god i can't get the elongated cat meme image out of my head #you are a genius #if you didn't catch it gotham was the city he destroyed #what did fenton tell him to do you ask?#well dan is very good at hunting #causing chaos and bringing certain peoples to justice all over the world #like a reverse santa #he also gave dan permission to go buck wild on the joker if batman brought him to gotham #if batman didn't STOP his escape to gotham #that counts right?#long post #dpxdc

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cloudbersoo · 1 year ago

Text

would you mind?｜zhang hao

synopsis: how to get over a guy you didn’t even date in ten easy steps with the help of zhang hao.

tags: zhang hao x gn!reader, acquaintances to lovers, university au, fluff, slight angst, y/n likes someone else at the beginning, y/n is very drunk, making out when drunk, shy!hao, bestie!matthew has no filter, roommate!taerae, hanbin keeps laughing, what did jiwoong do though? y/n overthinks a little sometimes, mentions of sex and implied sex but no explicit smut! (im a minor and can’t write smut for the life of me)

word count: 6k (how did this get so long?)

a/n: this is my first fic in like six years and the first in english altogether! idk how to feel about this one but i thought to post it anyway. writing this honestly made me respect fanfic writers so much more, it really isn’t easy! this took me like five days to make. not sure how often i’ll be doing this but i enjoyed writing a lot. sorry for any grammar errors or such, i proofread this a couple of times, but my english isn’t perfect, so some mistakes might go past me. anyway, thanks and sorry! enjoy reading!

my playlist while writing: in bloom & new kidz on the block by zb1, cream soda & private party by exo, roller coaster & party o’clock by nmixx !!

i. drink your feelings away

“finally you’re here” matthew mumbled in his slightly drunken stage, leaning onto a wall as you closed the door behind you. you could hear the music and people’s chatter coming from the living room. the smell of alcohol was also very strong, especially on your friend. you wished you could just turn back and go home. you were way too miserable to party right now but the sweet smile matthew was giving you was making you stay. you couldn’t possibly disappoint your best friend on his special day.

“yeah, sorry for being late” you finally answered to the birthday boy as you handed out your gift with a forced smile. “happy birthday matt.”

he took the bottle of wine and chuckled. “thank you y/n” he said, looking at the bottle of his favourite. “for this and for coming tonight” he continued as he raised his gaze to you apologetically.

“of course” you uttered, trying your best to convince your friend you wanted to be here, as if you didn’t just think about leaving two seconds ago. your convincing didn’t seem to be working as matthew sighed. matthew put down the bottle and walked in front of you. he examined your face for a while before he embraced you in a hug. “he didn’t deserve you anyway” he whispered close to your ear.

right.

jaemin.

the guy who broke your heart just a few days ago. he didn’t mean to, you suppose. he just didn’t realise you were totally in love with him when he introduced you to his partner of three years. how stupid could you be?

you held your tiers in at the mention of him. not today. you can cry about it later.

you embraced your friend for a while as you collected yourself. “you know what matt?” You finally spoke as you made eye contact with him. matthew hummed, looking at you with anticipation.

“i’m going to have fun tonight.”

ii. embarrass yourself

about five bottles of soju and a couple beers later you were completely out of it. you were somewhere in matthew’s apartment, kitchen or living room, you were not entirely sure. laying on the cold floor with zero thoughts of your shattered heart. you felt at peace. your peace, however, didn’t last long as it was eventually broken by a familiar voice calling your name.

“y/n? you okay down there?” the voice asked with amusement. you opened your eyes and were met with hanbin’s gaze from above you. he must have found your state hilarious as he bursted out laughing.

you got up from the floor with difficulty and flopped next to him on the couch. “never been better” you mumbled to your friend with a relaxed smile. you started making yourself comfortable and leaned your head on hanbin’s shoulder. what you failed to notice in your drunken state was the other person sitting on the couch. the one you were currently cuddling up to.

“hao” your friend started. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen y/n so wasted” hanbin laughed with tears in his eyes.

what.

suddenly, you were too aware of your surroundings, like there was no alcohol in your system anymore. you quickly got up and saw that hanbin was not in fact the person you had leaned into. the person sitting next to you was hanbin’s good friend, zhang hao. the boy’s face flushed as he looked at your shocked face.

oh my god.

you were not that familiar with zhang hao. you knew he was good friends with hanbin and matthew. he was from the music department just like your roommate taerae, and you were pretty sure he played the violin. he was reserved and quiet, and definitely not the most fond of you (even though your friends have tried to convince you otherwise). a friend of a friend. that’s what he was. not someone who you could comfortably cuddle with. this is so embarrassing.

“i’m so sorry!” you quickly blurted out as you hid your face behind your palms. you could still hear hanbin’s laugh as you were thinking about your way out of the situation.

“it’s o-okay” zhang hao managed to stutter. you were in too deep thought to hear what the boy in front of you was saying. you searched for your other friend in the crowd. it’s time for me to leave. as you found matthew by the balcony with a girl, you turned back to the men on the couch. “i’m just gonna go!” you quickly said to prevent any more embarrassment and made your way to your best friend.

he saw you coming from afar and smirked at you. “you’ve definitely enjoyed yourself” matthew said delightfully. oh. he definitely saw everything.

“you saw nothing” you bit back and leaned onto your friend as the alcohol started to kick back in again. “i’m going home” you continued. could you even walk straight? no. but you could just call your roommate to meet you halfway.

“in this state? no you’re not” the boy slurred just as drunk as you were. he wrapped his arm around your shoulder in an attempt to keep you from leaving. you were glad your friend cared about your safety even when he was drunk. his company, however, was not enjoying the sight in front of her and you could tell you had interrupted something.

“i’ll call taerae to pick me up, don’t worry.” you assured your friend. “i’ll leave you two alone now.” you gave a smile to the girl and mouthed “sorry” as you left the two before matthew could protest any further.

iii. make a foolish choice

walking down four sets of stairs with your hands occupied by your phone was a challenge. you somehow made it though and were trying to contact your roommate. he was not answering. where is he? your apartment wasn’t that far from matthew’s but the darkness was creeping you out a little. you sent a quick text to taerae, saying you were coming home before you started your journey.

you had made it past a couple turns when you started feeling like someone was following you. you’re just being paranoid, that's all. but the feeling only grew stronger as you clearly heard footsteps behind you. you were already walking as fast as you could in your state. is this the end? “i’m gonna die-”

“y/n,” you quickly turned around to the familiar voice.

zhang hao.

“oh it’s just you” you said as you relaxed until it hit you. zhang hao. the reason why you had run away from the party in the first place. your surprise finally showed on your face, which zhang hao found amusing.

"sorry if I scared you” he let out an airy laugh while awkwardly standing in front of you. for some reason you had never really looked at the boy. he was tall and his hair was still styled nicely even after a long day. he was wearing a light blue button up shirt with black jeans that seemed way out of your price range. there was something about the way he was looking at you under the glow of the streetlights. he was looking at you with stars in his eyes, like there was no one else but the two of you in the world. the sight of him almost made your heart skip a beat. he had a few moles on his face, one right under his eye and another on his cheek that you wish you could kiss right now. has he always been this pretty?

no. why is he here?

he tried to give you a reassuring smile as he took a step closer. “you shouldn’t walk alone at this hour, it’s not safe for you.” he continued like he had just read your mind.

“so you think I'm safe with you?” you asked, slightly teasing. it was definitely the alcohol speaking.

the boy’s eyes widened in shock and he opened his mouth to say something but failed. “well- I mean” zhang hao finally responded with panic, not quite sure what he was supposed to say. you couldn’t hold your giggles which seemed to ease his nerves. his figure seemed to relax as he walked past you. “my apartment isn’t that far from yours, so we can just walk together. it’s safer for both of us.” zhang hao finished.

lies. you’ve once picked hanbin up from his apartment and it's nowhere near yours. however, zhang hao didn’t need to know that you knew. you wouldn’t mind walking home with him even if the two of you weren’t that close, because he was right – this was safer (not because he suddenly made you think of things you haven't before).

so, the two of you continued walking towards your place. zhang hao didn’t say much as you walked, only telling you to be more careful as you almost stumbled to the ground. he also decided to hold you up from your waist from that point on – which you definitely didn’t mind. he didn’t seem to mind either as there was no signs of annoyance that you would’ve except from zhang hao in this situation.

“we’re here” he said as the two of you stood in front of your apartment building. you really didn’t want him to go. you really didn’t want to be alone at all. because you knew the moment you were alone again you’d break down again and cry about the guy who broke your heart. just for this one night, you wished not to cry yourself to sleep. maybe it was foolish of you to ask zhang hao of all people to comfort you, but right now you couldn’t think of anything else.

“would you like to come in?”

“do you need help to get to your door?”

you both had talked at the same time. you broke eye contact as the two of you chuckled. so he didn’t want to leave yet either? as it got quiet again you decided to look at the boy again. zhang hao seemed hesitant as he studied your face. then he smiled at you as he said “if that’s what you need.”

iv. get cockbocked by a roommate

some might find the silence between you and zhang hao awkward, but you found it soothing. he was drinking the water you had given him as you sat on the kitchen counter. he looked even more handsome up close. the way he was leaning onto the counter and the way he was looking at you. oh, how much you wished to make him yours tonight. would he mind?

your mind stopped wandering as the boy put down his glass on the sink. “i should probably go and let you sleep” he said quietly as he stood in front of you. he was incredibly close to you, his hand on your knee, his nose almost touching yours – like he didn’t want to leave. you couldn’t help but lower your gaze to his lips. they were pink and puffy, slightly wet like they were waiting to be kissed. you looked back to zhang hao’s eyes but they didn’t meet yours. he was doing the same thing – staring at your lips.

maybe you were going to regret it. maybe this wasn’t right, kissing your friends’ friend. but you couldn’t possibly think about any of that as you leaned in.

his lips felt as soft as they looked. it took a moment for zhang hao to realise what was happening but eventually he kissed you back. his left hand landed on your cheek as his right hand went up your thigh. the kiss deepened as you put your hands around the boy's neck, pulling him closer to you. you don’t remember the last time you have been kissed like this. he was driving you insane and you wished he’d never stop.

“y/n?” you hear a voice say at the door.

taerae.

you and zhang hao froze before you rapidly let go of each other. sleepy taerae rubbed his eyes walking into the kitchen as you tried to calm your beating heart. so he didn’t answer because he was asleep. you took a look at zhang hao who’s blush was prominent even in the dark. “when did you get home?” your roommate asked as he yawned.

“zhang hao walked me, i was just giving him some water before he left.” you blurted out an excuse, which wasn’t inherently a lie – taerae didn’t need to know what happened after that. your sleepy roommate didn’t look suspicious and seemed to buy it. “he was actually just about to leave.” you took another look at zhang hao, trying to get him to say something.

“yeah, i’ll just get going then.” he said, bid taerae goodbye, and was out of the apartment in mere minutes.

fuck.

v. overthink your life choices

lunch used to be your favourite time of the day, mostly because you used to share it with jaemin all the time. matthew barely ever had time to eat lunch with you, which is how you got to know jaemin in the first place. the two of you clicked instantly and you thought there was something between you. how wrong you were. the past week you have been distancing yourself from jaemin and he hasn't been asking after you. you really meant nothing to him in the end. even now he’s just a few tables away loudly debating about something with his group of friends, completely unaware of the effect he has had on you.

taerae’s giggles seem to wake you from your slumber. you moved your gaze from jaemin to your roommate. he was laughing over a video hanbin had just shown him. “what is jiwoong doing?” he managed to say between giggles.

“speaking of the devil” hanbin said as he waved past your shoulder. jiwoong walked to your table with zhang hao next to him, which was odd as the two of you’ve had a similar relationship with the chinese boy up until a few days ago (unless jiwoong had also been making out with him recently). “what did i do?” jiwoong questioned his friends as he placed his lunch on the table.

“nothing, nothing. where’s matthew?” hanbin said as he hid his phone with a grin.

“he’s on a date” you said nonchalantly. everyone at the table suddenly turned their heads towards you. they had totally forgotten you were even there as you had spent most of your break staring at a certain someone. you should get your shit together.

“oh right, zhang hao! thanks for walking y/n home the other night.” taerae said as zhang hao sat next to hanbin. well shit. you hadn’t told anyone of what had happened with zhang hao after matthew’s party. you hadn’t even talked to zhang hao since then. you felt awful that you had tried to use him to forget about someone else, and then kicked him out as your roommate found the two of you. you weren’t sure how you were supposed to even bring it up to him when you were never alone with him anyway.

“you walked her home?” hanbin questioned as he turned his head to his left where zhang hao was sitting. the boy only gave his friend a small nod as he dug into his food. his aura seemed so different in the daylight. his hair wasn’t styled like at the party, it was a bit all over the place. the way he stuffed his mouth full of food made him look cute. his cheeks were slightly pink with blush. while observing the boy, you had completely missed the teasing smile on hanbin’s face.

how were you supposed to talk to him? thanks for walking me home and making out with me in my kitchen. does he even want to talk about it? the two of you had seen each other around campus a couple times since then and he hasn't tried to talk to you once. maybe all of it was just a spur of the moment thing for him that he now wished to forget about.

you sighed as you decided it was your time to leave for class. there was no way you were going to talk to zhang hao now anyway, not in front of all your friends. “my lecture is starting soon, i’ll go now.” you said as you stood up. taking your things with you and hearing people say their goodbyes, you were on your way.

“wait, are we just going to ignore the fact that matthew is on a date?” you could hear jiwoong ask behind you.

vi. get help

“so…” matthew said in a teasing tone as he sat across from you at the library.

“so, what?” you questioned, like you had no idea what your best friend was referring to. well, in your defence, you never knew with matthew, but you had a feeling this conversation topic started with a z and ended with hang hao. “you and hao?” he continued, just like you had anticipated, raising his eyebrows.

“what about me and zhang hao?” you continued, acting clueless in the hopes of him dropping the conversation.

“after what i saw at my birthday party and then hearing he walked you home, i hoped the two of you worked out the weird tension between you two and finally fucked” your friend blurted out in a very matthew way, like it was the most obvious conclusion to come to in the world.

“we did not!” you raised your voice a little too much as you tried to defend yourself. you got a few judging stares from the people around you who were trying to study. something you were supposed to do as well, instead of having this conversation about zhang hao. “we didn’t fuck…” you continued more quietly. there was no reason for you to lie to your best friend. not when you could use his help.

“but you were going to?” he gave you a knowing look.

“well yeah, but then taerae woke up and i panicked and i kinda kicked zhang hao out-” you started rambling. wait. “how did you know we almost fucked? did he talk to you? what did he say? does he totally hate me now?” you continued like you were going to lose your mind. and now matthew was laughing at you, trying his best to stay quiet.

“i haven’t talked to anyone, except hanbin, he’s just as convinced there’s something going on between you and hao as i am” your friend finally spoke. if only you knew what was going on between the two of you. you sighed and hit your head on the table. “what’s the problem y/n? you know, you could just text him and ask him" matthew said.

“i don’t have his number” you mumble in despair.

“what? how can you not have his number?” matthew asked, confused.

“why would i? was i supposed to ask for it when we were making out or something?” you said as you lifted your head from the table, looking at your friend who definitely didn’t need to hear any more details of that night.

matthew took his phone out of his pocket, and gave it to you after a moment. “here, take his number and text him”

vii. become friends

you were currently sitting down at a park you had agreed to meet with zhang hao. matthew was able to convince you it was better to sort things out with zhang hao sooner than later. but now that you were here, waiting for the guy, you couldn’t help but feel nervous. it was warm as summer was finally coming and you felt like you were sweating buckets. was it the weather or your nerves – you were not quite sure.

“hi, did you have to wait long?” you hear a familiar voice from your left and see zhang hao’s figure coming towards you. he waved at you while giving you a sweet smile. damn. he’s so pretty.

“oh no, not at all” you answered, trying to give the boy a smile to hide your nervousness.

“what did you want to talk about?” zhang hao said calmly as he sat down next to you. unlike the other night, now he had left much space between the two of you. he didn’t seem nervous at all, which made you feel uneasy. maybe this wasn’t as big of a deal for him as it was for you.

“at matt’s party, i’m sorry for being such a mess and dragging you into it” you decided to tell him. “i had a few too many drinks that night.” you took a look at zhang hao. he seemed surprised, maybe a little hurt as he tried to get comfortable on the bench. was that not the right thing to say? “i mean, i probably made you uncomfortable and then i rushed you out of my place when taerae woke up, it was super rude of me to-” you were starting to ramble.

“i wasn’t uncomfortable” he cut you off. he finally turned to look at you again “i wouldn’t have come in if i was.” there was the look again, making your heart beat louder on your chest. he was looking at you like he did under the streetlights, like you were the only person in the world that mattered. you wouldn’t mind getting lost in his eyes. “so don’t be too sorry, i enjoyed it as long as it lasted.” he gave you a shy smile.

oh.

this was the first time the boy had made you blush, usually it was the other way around. you broke eye contact to hide your shyness from him. “cool, cool” you started quite awkwardly. “we should probably be casual about all this, since we're friends and all…”

“we’re friends now? i’m cool with that” zhang hao replied with amusement.

“i mean, we’ve known each other long enough to call us that, i guess” you tried to reason, not realising your friend was only teasing you. as you turned your gaze back to him you saw him still smiling at you. this man will be the death of me. “well that’s that. sorry i can’t stay longer, i have places to be. bye zhang hao.” you said as you got up from the bench. you had nowhere to be, but you couldn’t possibly handle being in zhang hao’s presence any longer.

“bye friend!” he yelled after you still with a teasing tone.

viii. feel nothing

you and your new friend zhang hao have gotten along well since your talk at the park. nothing has changed that much, except now you greet each other at campus, engage in conversation together, and sometimes share memes with each other. you have tried to convince matthew that you and zhang hao are really just friends and nothing more. matthew just can’t help himself when he teases you with kissy noises every time you interact with zhang hao. he’s the only other person that knows about your little secret. even hanbin doesn’t know, because if he did — everyone would.

you were finally finished with your last class of the day, walking out of your department building. you felt at ease as everything in your life was finally going well. you were able to sort things out with zhang hao, you weren’t particularly struggling with any classes, and you were barely thinking about him, who shall not be named.

as if on cue, there he was standing a few meters away from you. jaemin. he wasn’t alone though, as he was having a conversation with someone. you couldn’t quite tell what the two were talking about, not that really even mattered to you. contrary to popular belief, your heart no longer ached at the sight of him. you continued your journey with no intent to interact with jaemin, at least not until you realised who exactly he was talking with. when you were close enough you could recognize the other man’s voice.

what was zhang hao doing with jaemin? the sight in front of you felt really odd, but you couldn’t possibly look away. zhang hao almost towered over jaemin, paying attention to what the latter was talking about. he was wearing glasses that complimented his face well. one of his sleeves was rolled up revealing his toned arm. he looked so mesmerising, you couldn't help but stare.

it didn’t take long for you to be caught staring as jaemin called out your name. “wow it’s been so long. how have you been?” he asked happily as you took a few steps closer to the two. zhang hao was surprised to see you, his gaze moving between you and jaemin. his face filled with worry made you think he must have heard about jaemin and you from someone (definitely not from hanbin). you gave zhang hao a reassuring smile as you greeted jaemin, who was ready to embrace you in a hug.

“i’ve been well” you sounded a little awkward as the two of you let go. an act that used to make your heart do backflips no longer felt like anything. “what were you two talking about? i didn’t know you even knew each other.” you asked out of curiosity as you stood next to zhang hao, who suddenly put his arm around your shoulder. you turned your head towards your friend, trying to understand what he was up to.

“we’ve shared a few classes here and there” zhang hao said as he turned his head to face you. he was so close to you again, making your heart beat louder on your chest. “you’re ready to go?” he continued. you could only show your confusion on your face as you didn’t trust your voice to say anything at the close proximity. “dinner? remember?” he gave you a wink.

what? you were completely lost. what was this man talking about?

“oooh, date night?” jaemin cooed in front of you. he took his headphones out of his back and put them over his ears. “i won't waste your time anymore then. y/n we should totally catch up sometime!” he didn’t wait for your response before he left.

you and zhang hao stayed close to each other in silence for a while. you wondered if he could hear the way your heart was beating for him. you tried to look for answers from his face but to no avail. finally, zhang hao moved and removed his hand off of you, what had felt like way too soon. “sorry” he said as he stood in front of you. “you must have felt awkward seeing him” he continued, scratching the back of his neck.

“did you do all that to get rid of him? i’m fine, i don’t like him like that anymore” you felt the need to clarify to him.

“oh” he said, blush breaking to his face and neck. “well, i was getting tired of him anyway” he excused and removed his gaze from you to hide his embarrassment. you thought he looked the cutest whenever he got shy or embarrassed.

your laugh seemed to peak his interest again, as he turned his gaze back on you. your blushing face, matching his own. a comfortable silence fell between you again. ”just friends huh?” you could hear matthew’s teasing voice in your head.

“y/n?” zhang hao eventually spoke. you hummed as a response, waiting him to carry on. “have you eaten yet?” the boy continued hesitantly.

“no, not yet” you answered truthfully, not quite sure where the conversation was going. zhang hao stayed quiet for a while. he was nervously shifting on his place, turning his face away from you once again. he was trying to find the right way to ask you.

“would you like to go out for dinner then?” he asked carefully.

“sure!” you answered enthusiastically. you were starving at this point and wouldn’t mind spending some time with friends as well. “who else is coming?”

“well, i thought it could be just us…” the boy responded, still not daring to look at you.

oh.

“oh! that works too. sure. yeah.” you replied, definitely not embarrassed that you didn’t get the hint right away. “does indian sound good to you? i’m craving butter chicken” you continued, trying to move the conversation onwards, while your heart kept beating hard against your chest.

“if that’s what you want, it’s good with me” zhang hao said and the two of you started your way out of campus, both a blushing mess.

ix. feel everything

you were not entirely sure what to think. had you just been on a date? zhang hao didn’t explicitly call it that, but it surely had felt like one. the dinner went smoothly, it didn’t feel awkward and the two of you were able to talk to each other comfortably. he constantly smiled at you and asked you questions about your life, putting the effort into getting to know you. he even insisted on paying for your meal in the end.

you got to know things about him as well, as zhang hao no longer felt shy talking to you. he’s an only child and very close with his mom. he chose to play the violin, because it’s much easier to carry around compared to a cello. him and jiwoong have gotten closer lately because jiwoong had asked him to help him with a song he has been working on. he also revealed that he was glad that the two of you have gotten closer, which made you question things even more.

you were walking to your apartment in silence, completely sober this time. zhang hao had insisted on walking you home again, “as a man should” he had said. the way his hand was accidentally brushing against yours every once in a while was giving you butterflies in your stomach. you were not entirely sure if the man next to you even realises how much of an effect he had on you. you weren’t walking that fast because you really didn’t want the night to end.

must to your dismay, you ended up in front of your apartment building. it felt like deja vu, standing in front of him again. you didn’t want zhang hao to leave, but you weren’t sure if it was appropriate to invite him in. you couldn't hide behind the confidence alcohol had given you last time. you didn't know what to say, so you settled on just staring at his face, completely mesmerised. he was doing the same, his gaze wandering on your face, like he was trying to remember each little detail of you.

“i should…” zhang hao started, now looking straight into your eyes. “i should probably go now” he continued, not at all convincing. he made no effort to move, which finally gave you the confidence to talk. it won’t hurt to ask, right?

“i could offer you a glass of water before you go” you said, tearing your gaze away, still slightly scared of what he might answer. “you know, taerae’s not home tonight…” you added. as you heard no answer from the boy, you hesitantly took a look at him. he was smiling at you again, the way he had been all dinner.

zhang hao took a step closer, raising his hand to hold your chin, making you hold eye contact with him. he lowered his gaze slowly to your lips, looking at you like you were someone to be desired. “you sure?” he finally spoke in a lower voice, still staring at your lips. you could only hum in response. and then he leaned in to kiss you.

his lips were soft, but he pushed them hard against yours. he tasted like cherries as you kissed him back. the kiss deepened quickly as his tongue pushed past your lips. his arms lowered to your hips, pulling you closer, as you put yours behind his neck, playing with his hair. you didn’t stop until you both were almost running out of air.

zhang hao let out an airy laugh. “i’ve wanted to do that for a while” he confessed, your arms still tangled around each other. he was looking at you with so much adoration.

“yeah? me too” you smiled, your cheeks slightly pink. you let go of the boy to open the door to your apartment building. he held onto your arm as the two of you walked towards the elevator. you turned to look at zhang hao, who’s cheeks were a shade of pink as well. he noticed you staring and gave you another sweet smile. the door finally opened, and he couldn’t even wait till you got to your apartment, as he stole another kiss from you as you entered the elevator.

“i honestly thought you didn’t like me at all” you admitted to him as you parted from the kiss.

“that’s what hanbin always told me” zhang hao answered, now with a pout on his lips. “i was just too shy to talk to you, you’re like the most gorgeous person i’ve ever laid my eyes on” he continued, no longer daring to look you in the eye. even he seemed a little surprised by his sudden confession.

oh.

you’ve received compliments before, but hearing one from zhang hao felt different. your cheeks heated up again, and you could feel your excitement all the way down on your stomach. you wanted him so badly, you could only wish he felt the same way. when the elevator stopped, you decided to quickly peck the boy's cheek before you dragged him to your apartment.

once the door to your apartment closed behind you, you were all over each other. his lips connected with yours as your arms roamed all over your bodies. you couldn’t get enough of him, wanting him even closer to you. you stumbled over to your bedroom, where you gave him one more kiss before backing away.

zhang hao looked at you with concern. “are you okay?” he asked while still holding you closely.

“yeah, i just- i want to make sure you want this as much i do” you answered, studying his face for any signs of regret or hesitation.

“i really like you y/n, and i want this more than you think” he admitted. he detached one of his hands from you to remove his glasses out of the way, putting them down to your nightstand. he lowered his hand on your cheek, cherishing it gently. “let me show you just how much you mean to me.”

so you let him, as you kissed him again.

x. fall in love

you were still out of breath as you cuddled up to zhang hao’s bare body. he wrapped his hand around you and squeezed you closer to him, twirling your hair with his fingers. you laid your head against his chest, drawing circles on his toned body, sighing with content. you felt zhang hao’s lips against your forehead, giving you a peck after peck. the act made you giggle, turning your gaze to him.

“what?” you asked.

“nothing, i’m just really happy” he answered, giving you one more kiss on your lips. he looked at you with so much love and warmth, which made you feel like you were dreaming. you couldn’t help but wonder what made you deserve to meet someone like zhang hao. no one has made you feel this good in such a long time, if ever. suddenly, very overwhelmed with your feelings, you hid your face on the crook of his neck.

you felt zhang hao’s chest vibrate from the laughter he let out. “cute” he whispered quietly, mostly to just himself, cherishing your head again. you got comfortable again, almost falling asleep in his embrace. his breath also evening out as he was slowly drifting away to sleep too.

“i really like you too, zhang hao” you sleepily mumbled against his skin, before the two of you fell into dreamland together.

- end

bonus:

“why do you always call me zhang hao?”

“maybe because it’s your name??”

“yes, but everyone calls me hao. you’re the only one who calls me zhang hao”

“oh”

“well, hao, i’ll call you that from now on”

the boy’s face flushed red as he finally heard you say his name.

“oh my god, you’re so cute!”

he turns his face to hide his blush from you.

“shut up”

#zb1 #zerobaseone #zhang hao #zhanghao #zb1 x reader #zb1 zhang hao #zhang hao fic #zb1 fluff #zb1 fics #zerobaseone zhang hao #zhang hao x reader #kpop #cloudbersoofic

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i’d hump jaspers boot💔 but i’d also suck on lucy b00bs💔 its hard to choose when youre a pervy loser for both

DW nonnie, mama cookie’s got chu bb <3

MINORS DNI!!!

CW: M!reader, reader referred to as he/him, reader has a penis, sub reader, PERVY LOSER READER <3, M!Masturbation, dry humping, titty job, bj, double hj, p in b(jasper’s p in reader’s b), lots of teasing reader, anal fingering, spanking (just once ;3), scent kink, reader forced to panty sniff and then again on our own, exhibition, bullying, orgasm denial, overstim, not proofread like at all i’m sorry XD

🪓🧸Lucy~

I imagined first an alternate route where you perv over her since the start. instead of in Lucky🎀 i wanna expound this one XD like just have reader masturbate all the time to her, but i also just wanted them to FUCK. XD!!!!

status: First known introductions

“Just because Ezra’s too scared of your lil girlfriend to touch you, doesn’t mean I am” The group of guys shove you against the rattling wall in the locker room.

They had pushed you into the women’s locker room on campus. You don’t know Lucy either, you’ve only ever perved over her, so you aren’t sure why they’re saying girlfriend, or why Ezra would be scared of her.

Two of the guys in the group broke into Lucy’s gym locker, which happened to have a really expensive looking pink bag in it.

They tore through it as if it were plastic, and out came a pair of her frilly, baby blue panties, covered in lace and ribbons. “What are you—” You start, before the article is shoved into your face.

You’re forced to inhale, a very sweet but, very naughty scent permeates your senses, and panic swells within you! No!! You’re not that much of a creep! You swear!! You fight to get the guys away from you, but they end up shoving you inside her locker and closing the door.

“Fuck!” You slam your fist as hard as you can into the metal, but your arm is pretty well squished at your side.

Her panties are still in your hand, when you think about how long you might be in here for, you wonder if it would be fine to just…

She smells sweet and a little salty, your eyes close, and your hand travels to your pants, when the door to the locker you’re in opens wide, light spilling onto your guilty and hot face.

It’s Lucy.

Her eyes are wide and unreadable, she must be in shock, you’ve seriously fucked everything up!

Until…

Something miraculous happens, she gets down on her knees and motions for you to be quiet, with her index finger pointing over her lip. There’s a glint of mischief in her eyes now, and she smirks wickedly up at you.

Soon her slightly freckled tits are out, and so is your cock, she has it sat like it’s a holy idol on a ceremonial pillow that is her chest. She licks her lips staring at it before she starts to move, squishing her boobs around your shaft, you watch it get swallowed up by her cushiony breast.

A disembodied voice comes from around the corner. “Yeah, so can you believe that Luce?”

“What?” She says in a way that’s a little ditsy and has your dick twitching up as she kisses and suckles on the tip. Her soft mounds massage the underside in a way that’s making your legs feeling like jelly.

“About bertie!” her friend calls.

“Oh right! yeah, i don’t know what her problem is recently!”

“Right!?”

When she looks back up at you again, her eyes look about as hazy as you feel right now. How is this even happening?

You’re already close when you sigh, and start to shudder, and she grabs you more violently, hand choking your dick, and she gets up, her chest still out and very distracting on top of her iron grip on your appendage. You realize you’re holding in your breath when she takes her panties from your hand and shoves them into your mouth, then puts your hand on your dick to replace hers.

She kisses your cheek, her eyes so soft and filled with adoration for you, and then she slams her locker door back in your face.

🤍💻Jasper~

So idk if i can picture Jasper taking it without still being in charge, so hopfully it’s what you wanted!!

Also this is my first M x M writing ever!!! 🙈

Status: Dating🎀

“Do you really think you deserve it?” He had been laying on his stomach on the floor, pillows everywhere, minding his own business playing something on his phone when you were overwhelmed by desire, like a miasma in the room that you’re inhaling and barley seeing through the think pink fog of it!

You kneed his ass, and you need it! “I need it Jasper!” You repeat out loud. guilt roils your guts but you know he enjoys you. He wouldn’t keep you around if he didn’t…

“So desperate~” He sighs, with a smirk on his face.

You lay over top of him, slotting your clothed dick between his ass cheeks. You grunt as you rut into him, “Oh my gods!!” It already feels so good, through the harsh fabrics you feel his hot flesh, bouncing back into you.

“You better enjoy it while you can, I’m almost done with my dailies.”

Your hands roam his lithe frame, squeezing his hips, and his sides, and traveling up his arms, until you almost fall and have to catch yourself and you take hold of his hips this time for purchase.

“mmmm~,” He hums, as he puts his phone down, and grabs you.

He pulls you the opposite way as he rolls over so that you land on pillows beneath him.

You inhale sharply, “Sorry!!! sorry!!! I couldn’t help it!!!” tears prick at your eyes, but, he wipes them away and kisses you.

“You’re such a pretty person~” He licks your neck, before biting down on your flesh, “So tasty too~!”

Jasper pulls back and you whine, reaching up to try and claw him back to you, until you realize he is unbuttoning his and your pants.

Once out, his pale, slender fingers wrap tightly around both of your dicks together, and he squishes the tips and rubs them against each other. “did you bring lube?” You watch mesmerized as they almost seem to meld together, his shiny silver piercing in the middle.

You gulp, feeling scared of getting in trouble.

“You wanted to fuck me and didn’t even bring lube?? how cruel.” He laughs before spitting into his hand and rapidly massages your shafts together, getting them nice and slicked up.

Your dick head is smushed up against his hot tip, leaking precum, as Jasper runs his thumb all around your glands. You close your eyes tightly, all the pressure building and he hasn’t even started! You need to calm down! But you can’t, your a writhing moaning mess to his fingers.

He flips you over again, now so that you’re on your hands and knees, his hand now only massages your dick now, running up and down your fully errect length and back up to your base, and down again.

His other hand slaps your ass cheek almost full force, definitely enough to bruise! “Ow!!! ahhhmmmm!” It stings and you mumble out your cries. Your skin buzzes with the pain.

Before you can really comprehend anything else, his two long fingers are dipping inside of you, curling around and pressing that spot that has you moaning out louder and louder! “That’s it, Y/N, you feeling good f’me?”

“Mhmm!!!!” You nod vigorously.

“I don’t know, do you really deserve my dick? Or should I make you just get off on my fingers?”

You push back onto his hand further, “Please put it in me!! Please, Jasperrr!” You slur his name, and god he loves how it rolls off of your tongue like a heavy boulder whenever you’re drunk off of him.

“Maybe I should just keep going, you’re so close! You don’t need my dick,”

“I need it! I need it! Please Jasper! Fill me up!!” You beg.

He sighs, “Oh alright, since you asked so nicely~” with that his pierced tip breaches your entrance. It’s so much hotter than the rest of his skin, it melts your insides around it. You feel ecstatic as he bottoms out inside you, all while his hand squeezes your shaft base.

After he’s inside and allows you to adjust for a second he starts pumping around your cock and he pulls out slowly, before rocking his hips back in. It’s instantly too much and you cum with a cry, you didn’t mean to finish so soon!

“Such a good job, look at how much you came!” Jasper coos you, as he rocks his hips into your ass, he pets your back gently down your spine.

You shiver, even after an orgasm his dick feels so good inside you, you’re so full and hot, and the warmness that shot through you at your apex is now flowing throughout your body to a lesser but still pleasant extent. You’re moaning as he sweetly fucks you.

“Want my cum, darling? I think you’ve earned it,” He makes you feel so loved and well cared for, no matter what scenario.

“Mhm,” You moan, and as soon as you do, he obliges, he must’ve been really into prepping you today, he finished so fast! He must really love you!

and he does :3

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skriblee-ksk · 7 months ago

Text

“I checked the drinks… Princes’ outfits are up to code… Grimmy’s with Ryoko right now… I didn’t forget anything, did I?”

“Okay. Ready as I’ll ever be…! Let’s make this ball a success!”

Set to Home Screen: Are you ready? I’ll wait for you, if you need me to.

Home Transition:

1: Woah… The chandeliers are so bright and sparkly… 12 arms from the bottom bowl, which are four more than the one in the Mirror Chamber, but the top… Ah, sorry!

2: Deuce called me Lady Kiyuu earlier, which really made me happy. I would have worn a pretty dress, but these clothes are a lot warmer and comfier. I think I managed to make myself look feminine either way!

3: Kalim’s really enjoying talking to the attendees. He seems to be getting friendly with everyone, including people from RSA! Must be because he’s familiar with hosting parties.

4: So many attractive people are here… I wonder if I’d be bothering them if I said I wanted to take a picture of them…?

Home, after Login: This ball is really fun! If I lean back on this wall and squint, it just looks like a blur of blue, white, and gold. I think it’s nice that there’s a time these schools can merge like this.

Tap Home:

1: I’m excited to vote for the Belle of the Ball! Huh? Oh, no, I never had any intent to participate. I just enjoy seeing pretty people.

2: Ah, what? Oh, I’m just reviewing my notepad to make sure I’m not forgetting any etiquette. I’m doing perfectly well, so far! I reviewed it before I entered too, but just in case, you know?

3: Oh, no, wait, Grim’s gonna devour the entire table of finger foods at this rate. I’ll be right back!

4: I know I’m supposed to be helping the princes out, but I’m not sure if I’m doing a proper job here… Hm? You think I’m doing pretty well? Mm… Hehe, thanks!

5: It’s a little bit harder than usual to catch the attention of the attendees here since there’s so many people… Well, I guess I just have to find better ways to make my presence known!

Glimmering Soirée is a twst fan event hosted by: @starry-night-rose!!

Groovy Lines: Unlocked

Notes and stuff under cut!!

Groovy art coming soon!! maybe. hopefully. i have the sketch done so hopefully i can finish lol. I slightly tried imitating the twst shading style, but idk.

I searched up men’s victorian era clothing and ended w making this design. few obvious design changes in the end (color) result, mostly the gloves.

Here’s the pic without the SR thing! And the sneak peak for the groovy (which i rlly tryharded on so maybe i should’ve listed it as an ssr but whatevs i’ll leave that to my friend + ryoko because ryoko deserves that ssr title)

And tag list for my friend who rlly wanted to be tagged in Kiyuu stuff (if you wanted be added, just tell me!!): @kathxrat-01

#skribleedoodlz #twst stuff #twst kiyuu #glimmering soirée #I had a lot of fun drawing her!!!!#rendering the buttons and the silver stuff were so hard tho..#metal……#EITHER WAY SUPER FUN #cant wait to finish the groovy!!!#WILL include ryoko btw because i adore ryoko #and they come in a set they are THE ramshackle duo #would love to add grim in the bg too.#possibly tho i’d have to add to the sketch #twisted wonderland #twst #twst oc #twst yuu #skribleeoc #twst fan event

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kaiju-krew · 9 months ago

Note

Hey there! Firstly, big big fan of your art and headcanons, ty for your cool and awesome big brain ❤️ Now that you’ve seen the movie, I’m wondering what your thoughts are on Shimo??? I’ve just seen impressions of her so scattered. (I saw your post on how she will NOT be treated as a pet, and I so appreciate that.)

I will say, for me the ‘old gal’ vibes are so strong and I’m here for it. Like when Goji blasts his atomic breath into the sky at the end and she’s looking at it with such awe and her cute super gummy smile, it reminds me of when a grandma gets shown some common piece of technology that the rest of us are used to, but she just can’t heckin believe it because she lives in a damn cave??? I loved that.

hi hi! omg u think i have a big brain...... compliment of the century.... i must have ppl fooled bcuz i am viscerally dumb most of the time

anywAYS. gxk spoilers below (and a lot of ranting)

shimo my beloved💙 i appreciate most interpretations of her, besides people who are just straight up caling her a dog. and like, not in the way i’d compare goji to a cat? for me it's more mannerisms based, so for goji my main expression/mannerism inspirations are cats, wolves, and komodo dragons (obviously), and for mosu it's owls and cats, with a crumb of horses because of their 'ear' communication so i use that with her antennae.

sorry for tangent but anyways. i dont need someone barking at me that i call goji a cat/draw him acting like a cat so calling shimo ‘kong’s pet dog’ is fine. i think its the difference between goji having the personality i characterize him with + mannerisms inspired by other animals, vs. him having no personality besides Being A Cat. like, he’s a dumbfuck but he’s clearly an intelligent creature capable of communication and understanding. i make a lot of shitposts but truly in my personal hc i’d never reduce him to ‘pet level intelligence’

i think i’m extra touchy about people calling her ‘kong’s pet’ because like. dawg. did you watch the movie? she was JUST freed from being skar’s slave/beast of burden/abused pet whatever you wanna call it. why would you want her to become another creature’s pet again?(obviously minus the abuse) idk mannn it just feels…. reductive somehow. she clearly shows intelligence and understanding when she realizes what’s happening during the fight and helps to kill skar. i just refuse to reduce her entire character to kong’s pet status bcuz that makes me uncomfortable asf.

as a disclaimer, you’re welcome to have whatever hc you enjoy. me expressing my personal thoughts on the matter isn’t an attack on anyone who characterizes her that way, i’m just not interested in engaging with it in the slightest.

DOUBLE ANYWAYS i just needed to get that outta my system. TIME FOR CUTE FUN IDEAS YAHOOO

i’m seeing mixed info about her age so idk where she actually sits there?? i remember seeing something like she’s the First Titan but i also think the novelization of the movie said she’s only 3 million years old?? when im p sure they’ve said goji is 250+ million years old so…. i have no clue there lol. personally she feels less jaded and grumpy than goji does to me so my brain automatically sees her as similar or younger bcuz of my Grumpy Old Man bias.

i’m still workin out my ideas for her but based on how the movie ends i like to think she helps kong with relocating the apes to a better home, and they mostly live in HE. her n kong venture up for surface dates bcuz she gets what she fucking deserves 💙

goji nearly has an aneurysm the first time they come up, since mosu literally takes them for a lil tour of monster island. bro standing there clenching his fist like the arthur meme, he begrudgingly knows she’s right and eventually he gets used to it

i got more ideas cookin for her but this post is already too damn long cuz of my ranting time to stfu

SHIMO BEST GIRL 10/10

#gxk spoilers #kai talks #KAI FKIN YAPS SOMEONE SHUT ME UP #godzilla #mothra #shimo #kong #didnt have time to spellcheck dont @ me

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ukulelevillainwrites · 1 year ago

Text

who follows the rules anyway?

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9

complete

pairing : anthony lockwood x reader

word count : 6.7k

warnings : language ig?

content : a lot more plot, i'm settling all the elements i need to move forward and write pt8 (which i've been fantasizing and imagining since day 1 lol), reader meets Lucy and the gang finally has a plan

taglist : i've lost track lol @demigoddess-of-ghosts @cassiopeiia24 @archiveoftara

note : again i'm sorry this took so long, the weeks keep getting busier and the time flies by faster and i got hit with writer's block too at some point i think idk but i'm on vacation in three weeks and it should help (i hope) anyway i hope you enjoy :)

She didn’t know if she was still dreaming or not when she heard hurried footsteps climbing the stairs. She could hardly move and even though her eyes were open, all she could see were blurry shadows and the greenish light from the ghost lamp outside. For a moment she thought the voice she heard calling her name was her mind still playing tricks on her but the hands that grabbed hers were definitely real and convinced her she was awake. Someone turned on the light, blinding her. She blinked to see Lockwood sitting next to her on her bed, clutching her hands and asking if she was okay. George entered the room practically running, holding a rapier he must have taken just in case.

“We heard you screaming, what happened?” He asked, seemingly out of breath.

“I-I uh… um” She cleared her throat. “I gotta…”

She made a move to get out of bed.

“Come, we’ll make you some tea.”

George helped her up. Lockwood didn’t let go of her hand until she was out of reach with a concerned look on his face. He didn’t say anything, he just kept his gaze fixated on her.

George supported her down the stairs, though she didn’t really need it. But she felt bad that she woke them up, so she let him. Lockwood was in front of them, looking back every once in a while, to make sure she was okay. She must have really scared them to have them acting this way. Or they cared more about her than she realized.

They got down to the kitchen and Lockwood put the kettle on. George brought a blanket from the library to cover her, but she was still sweating from her dream and needed fresh air more than anything.

“So…” George started as he settled into the chair next to her.

“I had a nightmare.”

“Yes, we gathered that much…” Lockwood spoke for the first time in a while. His voice was hoarse, his tone serious. She would have felt like she was being reprimanded if his eyes hadn’t been so filled with worry. It made her want to apologize profusely.

“Though it sounded like you were getting murdered.” George added.

A heavy silence fell over the room. The two boys stared at her expectantly, waiting for an explanation.

“I tend to have intense dreams.” y/n finally said. “It doesn’t happen every time, but they can be very realistic. And that girl… I keep seeing her, but she never screamed at me like that.” She looked into her cup, images of the girl screaming at her flashing before her eyes.

“What girl?”

“I keep seeing this girl, she’s always telling me to find her and to look for her but I never know what she means. To be honest I had forgotten about her. But tonight, she just screamed at me, it was so loud you have no idea!”

“Actually, we sort of have an idea…” George said, burying his head between his arms. He looked like he was about to fall back asleep.

“I didn’t know I was actually screaming I’m sorry…”

“That girl screaming at you was all it took to wake us up in the middle of the night?” He mumbled.

“It’s not just that, I was in this haunted warehouse with agents attempting to clear it, the case went wrong, horribly wrong it was awful. I couldn’t move, I tried to help but I couldn’t do anything, I just stood there and watched.”

“Do you know who she is?” Lockwood asked. It looked like her story had piqued his interest.

“I have no idea… and I don’t know why I need to find her…”

“Maybe it’s just a dream, it doesn’t have to be a premonition. Don’t overthink it.”

“That way we could go back to sleep...” George said, his eyes now closed.

“You should go back to bed, I’m fine really. Thanks for the tea. And for checking up on me. That was sweet of you.”

They both gave her a warm smile. It made her feel even more guilty that she woke them up.

“George really you should get upstairs, you’re barely awake.”

He made a poor attempt at a protest but soon gave up and went back to his room. Lockwood was yawning too.

“You should go too, I’ll go back to the attic in a bit.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“Lockwood really I’m fine.”

“I don’t care I’m staying until you get back to sleep.”

She settled back into her chair, sipping her tea in silence. Lockwood was standing against the countertop, doing the same thing. She put her cup back onto the Thinking Cloth and tried to bring up her legs closer to her chest. The chair was too small and she bumped her knee into the table.

Lockwood took her mug and left the room without a word. She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to follow him or if that was retribution for waking everyone up. She did anyway and found him in the library. He was settled on the couch, both their mugs resting on the coffee table beside it. She sat next to him and brought her legs up next to her, drawing her closer to him. She draped a blanket over her and took back her cup. Even though she was comfortable, her mind still hadn’t calmed down. She kept seeing images from her nightmare, the girl’s face screaming at her, the heavy doors closing on her teammates, sealing their fate. She was glad Lockwood stayed with her, his presence was comforting.

She finished her tea and put her mug down on the table.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better, thanks.” She said, sleepy-eyed.

“You should go back to bed, we have a lot to discuss tomorrow”

She stared at him wondering what he meant.

“Now that we’re officially involved in this whole Dufour mess we need to see how we’re going to clean it up.”

“Oh, right.”

“You look half asleep already, I’ll help you get back to the attic if you want.”

“No, don’t. I want to stay here, I don’t think I’d be able to fall back asleep in my room tonight.”

“Alright.” He hesitated. “I could… read to you if you’d like. It always helped me when I had nightmares as a kid.”

“I’m not a child!”

He was already picking a book from the bookshelf on the wall opposite the fireplace. He came back to settle next to her, bringing her closer and settling her head against his chest.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned with you it’s that sometimes it’s nice to have someone looking out for you.”

“Oh really?” She teased, but she was too exhausted to really give him a hard time.

“You have to ask for help sometimes.”

“Says the guy who couldn’t ask someone to tie his tie for him.”

He nudged her leg with his foot with a laugh. She settled against his chest to get more comfortable and when she finally stopped moving, he started reading in a low voice. The monotonous tone he kept rocked her to sleep. His arms kept her warm. She could feel his steady heartbeat beneath her fingers. She nodded off almost immediately.

When she woke up, the sun was already high, bathing the room in a soft glow. She slowly opened her eyes, feeling an even breath in her hair. Lockwood was still asleep, looking much more peaceful than she had ever seen him. His arms were wrapped around her, keeping her warm. It was more comfortable than the time she woke up with George on the other side of the sofa, probably because this time she was cuddling with her bedmate and not trying to share a couch too small for the both of them. It ended up being a relaxing night after all, the waking up part making up for the nightmare. They were breathing in unison, fitting perfectly in the tight space of the sofa. Her mind was still blurry, she wanted to fall asleep once more to stay in the peaceful state she was just in. She snuggled closer, her face in the crook of his neck as she hugged him tighter, when she realized what she was doing. She was hugging Lockwood, and he had his arms around her. And for the briefest moment she felt like he was hugging her back. Suddenly it all felt wrong. They were colleagues. He was her employer. And landlord. They had a job to do together. During her time at Fittes she never let herself get too close to her teammates, at least not that way. It had happened once or twice that she found herself attracted to one of her colleagues, but she always kept her distance, thinking of the disaster that could have happened if she had let her feelings take over. And yet here she was throwing caution to the wind and allowing herself to get closer than she had been with anyone in a long time. As hard as it was, she pulled away slowly, trying to get up without waking him. She could’ve sworn she felt him holding on to her, trying to pull her back, but once she was on her feet she saw him turn on his side, still asleep. Her imagination was playing tricks on her, giving her false hopes. She covered him with the blanket she had last night, studying his relaxed features. It was unfair how good he looked when he was sleeping. She forced herself to get into the kitchen before George could catch her staring.

It was a close call since he came down as the water started boiling in the kettle. He looked more awake than he had earlier. It eased her guilt knowing he had managed to get some rest.

“I didn’t hear you come up last night.” George remarked as he poured himself a cup.

“After I woke you up in the middle of the night I thought you’d be grateful for that.”

“I’m not complaining I’m just wondering if you got any sleep after that.”

“I did.” She smiled without adding anything, sipping her tea in silence.

“I didn’t hear Lockwood either.” He said innocently while stirring his tea. He didn’t sound like he was simply checking up on her anymore. His voice had an edge with the slightest hint of insinuation.

“You were so exhausted you could barely stand. I wouldn’t be surprised if you had slept through one of us falling down the stairs from the attic to the ground floor without opening an eye.”

“Actually, I had a hard time falling back asleep.” He took a sip looking up at the ceiling.

She didn’t answer. Whatever she could have said would have led to more teasing anyway. She blushed. He just smiled before offering her a biscuit. She didn’t get why he reacted that way. He was looking at her like she had something to hide. But he had fallen asleep with her on that same couch and it certainly hadn’t meant anything! Though, if she was honest with herself she was just annoyed that he could read her like an open book. She took a biscuit out of the box he was handing her, avoiding his knowing eyes and proud smirk.

“I’m guessing things are better between you two then…”

“I came up last night to tell you so, didn’t I?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Before she could throw the nearest dish towel at him Lockwood came in. An awkward silence fell over the room. At least y/n felt the tension. Lockwood didn’t seem to notice and George was back to pretending like his biscuit was the most important thing in the world. He was right of course, things really were better between them. So much better that she wished she could wake up this way every morning.

She didn’t let herself think about it. Nothing good could come of this. Except of course the comfort she felt when she was in his arms, the butterflies in her stomach that danced to the song playing in her mind whenever he looked at her. She froze. She needed to clear her head and started to walk out of the kitchen. Maybe taking a shower and getting ready for the day would help.

When she came back down, she could hear the boys arguing. The debate didn’t sound heated, so they were probably discussing an upcoming case.

“I’m telling you it’s far more logical to do it this way!”

“You never listen to what I have to say!”

She pushed the door open.

“What’s this all about?”

“Ah, y/n I’m glad you’re back.” Lockwood said, walking towards her and putting a hand on her shoulder. “I keep telling George that we should focus on discovering who is at the head of the whole relic operation but he won’t listen.”

“You’re the one not listening! We don’t know enough about the operation to aim so high right away.”

He slid his hand down to her arm. “What do you think?”

His touch was enough to make her mind go blank. “I- um... you’re catching me off guard. Could you walk me through it?”

“Well, I think that focusing on Dufour isn’t useful anymore. Since we know she isn’t in charge we should let her be and focus on whoever is behind this.”

“And I think we could still learn a lot from what she does and follow her.”

“Those are both… good points…” She was still very aware of Lockwood’s hand resting on her arm. She wasn’t used to this. He had been distant most of the time those past few weeks and the sudden change really disturbed her.

“Well, I know I’m right!”

“And I am too! You’d see that if you weren’t so stubborn.”

It really was the pot calling the kettle black. She tried not to laugh at their argument as she crossed her arms, not so subtly removing Lockwood’s hand form her arm.

“You should just go your separate ways then, meet up later today to debrief the info you both get?”

“Yes, I guess we could do that.” They both nodded. “What do you do then, y/n?” Lockwood asked her, crossing his arms.

“I’ll go with George!” She said, realizing it came out a little too loud. Lockwood shot her a confused glance. “I’m just… curious to see what she’s up to… is all.” She tried to justify.

Lockwood briefly frowned before approving their plan, telling them they should meet back at the house at 4pm.

---

“You jumped awfully fast at the chance to come with me on this stake out.” George commented.

“I’m always excited at the thought of working with you Georgie!”

He rolled his eyes at her. She wasn’t being subtle, and he let her know it.

“Plus, I’m genuinely curious to see what this bitch is up to.”

That got a laugh out of him.

They were heading towards the Fittes building to see if maybe they could spot their nemesis stepping out to run one of her fraudulent errands. As they got closer to their old employer’s offices, she noticed familiar faces. She spotted several agents she used to see down Fittes corridors. As they crossed the road, she passed a guy who used to be on her team. She waved politely but was met with a dark stare. She couldn’t remember anything she could have done to upset him, then realized it was probably the aftermath of that offensive column. Her pace quickened, fueled once more by anger. She was determined to see what that horrible woman was up to and most importantly to find out how to bring her down. She was so furious she could have just walked into her office to strangle her. Hopefully George grabbed her arm and led her down a street far enough to remain unseen. He kneeled down to get out a hat and a pair of sunglasses out of his bag.

“Put these on, we don’t want Dufour to recognize us.”

“What are these eggs for?” She asked as she tried on the sunglasses.

“They might come in handy if we spot her car!”

It would have been a great relief, but she didn’t have time to appreciate the mental image she got. Dufour was getting out of the Fittes building across the street, seemingly in a hurry, carrying a large duffel bag. And so, the stake out began.

They tried to keep enough distance to remain discreet and followed her for the next hour. They weren’t sure that following her would lead them somewhere useful or if they would learn anything new. The fact that their old supervisor kept walking without stopping didn’t help. y/n even started to think that she didn’t have a destination at all and was just messing with them. That was until they reached an imposing building located near Clerkenwell Road. As Dufour got closer to the glass doors at the entrance, she looked around as if to make sure no one saw her go in. y/n and George had to hide several times behind cars or newspaper stands to avoid getting caught. The first time she turned around y/n felt her heart sink as she pulled George down with her, crouching behind a parked car. But it was a good sign, it probably meant that she had something to hide. They remained far from the building to remain unseen. George eagerly wrote down the address in his notebook. She could tell how pleased he was with their discovery before he even turned to congratulate his plan, his smile getting wider with every letter he wrote. They waited for her to come back out. She took her time. When she finally emerged from the building an hour later, she didn’t carry the bag anymore. Whatever was in it had to be valuable. Dufour started walking back the way she had come. They ducked and slowly entered the nearest café.

Since it was only 2 and they were starving, they decided to take a break, unable to come back out without being seen anyway. They settled at a table far from the window. They ordered tea and some pastries to share and discussed different theories, trying to figure out what the woman could be up to.

“Given her track record it’s fair to assume that her bag had sources in it right?”

“I’m surprised Fittes didn’t bat an eyelash since she started her operation. I mean she can’t be that subtle…” His eyes lit up. “What if Fittes was involved?”

“Maybe…” She didn’t want to bring down his enthusiasm but she was already picturing him getting way too far from the matter at hand. “Let’s focus on bringing her down for now. If you’re still mad at Fittes after that we’ll see what we can do.” She said with a laugh.

“Right. Then we should try to see what this building is.”

“It’s the Silverpoint Organization building!” said a voice behind her that made her jump.

“Norrie? What are you doing here?”

“Hey George! Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. I came to see my girlfriend, she just started her shift. But then I saw you two and I knew you had to be discussing something interesting given all the rumors these past few days… I couldn’t resist.”

“Actually, you could help us a lot!”

y/n greeted the girl as she sat down next to her. The last time she had seen them was at the furnaces. Apparently, the chat she had with George that night inspired her to do some investigating of her own. She had paid closer attention to the weird things she had noticed and caught a guy stealing a source red-handed. Not only did she get the source back to burn it but she also managed to get some information out of him. y/n was really impressed.

“So, I made him understand that he’d better tell me what he wanted to do with the source. That’s when he told me he was to bring it to this building across the street. I dug a little further and turns out it’s the Silverpoint Organization, whatever that is.”

“I’ll have to look into that.” George said while scribbling in his notebook. She didn’t think his smile could get any wider and yet it did.

“Hey! I didn’t know you were passing by!” called a voice behind them.

Norrie turned around to greet her girlfriend. The girl sat in front of her, saying something about having some time before the beginning of her shift. She had short wavy hair, auburn color, almond brown eyes. Her face was round and delicate. She looked friendly, but the warmth of her smile wasn’t enough to keep y/n from freezing. After all, that girl had woken her up in the middle of the night screaming just a few hours ago.

---

“And that’s why we should go after the money trail.”

Lockwood had been talking nonstop since he had walked through the door. He didn’t notice the heavy silence filling the living room. Or the haunted expression on y/n’s face.

“So, you somehow got your hands on an envelope supposedly used by that old man, who you think runs the operation, to pay a relic man who, again supposedly, brought him sources and that’s enough to convince you that you have a proof of the transactions?” George’s eyebrows were furrowed. Confusion filled his stare and his mouth was slightly agape. He looked baffled and not in a good way.

“That’s not all I found, didn’t you listen to what I just said?” Lockwood retorted, unfazed and still so sure of himself. “I have a reliable source telling me that they saw the guy take the money out of the envelope and it also has a strange code on it that has to link him back to wherever the money’s from. There must be a record of it somewhere. They wouldn’t bother writing such a long code on an envelope that gets left in the street if it didn’t have a purpose.”

“And you think this maze is worth getting lost in?”

“We won’t get lost! Like I told you I have contacts to help us out!”

“With relic men transactions? I’d love to meet them.” George still didn’t seem convinced.

“So, what do you think?” Lockwood asked with a triumphant smile, ignoring his friend’s objections.

“You don’t even care a little about what we discovered?”

He looked around the room, finally conceding them a glance. His smile fell as he looked into her eyes.

“What happened?”

It was George’s turn to talk restlessly about their day. Y/n looked at their exchange back and forth and listened to George tell Lockwood all about their successful stake out and their encounter with Norrie. There were times where she couldn’t focus on what they were saying, too caught up in the strange feeling that had followed her all the way home. Lucy had been lovely and tried to make her feel at ease even though y/n had stared at her like a deer caught in headlights for the better part of five minutes. They exchanged a few words about adapting to life in London and leaving agency work behind, though only partly for Norrie who wanted to do her best to help even without being back in the field. They never mentioned the incident that had led them here, just that they had left agency work. y/n knew why the girls had decided to change their lifestyle but nodded and smiled without ever referencing her dreams. She thought it would probably freak them out plus she didn’t want to bring up the horrible event that probably traumatized them in the first place. She tried to focus back on George’s explanations. He was excited to start researching the Silverpoint Organization. It was obvious that Lockwood was frustrated that his idea hadn’t gotten the attention he thought it would have. He sat back to let George talk with a barely hidden exasperated look on his face. But when he locked eyes with her his face slightly softened, allowing George to finish his theory.

“You’re awfully silent, y/n.” Lockwood said as he came to sit down next to her on the couch.

“We met Lucy today.”

She was met with a questioning stare.

“The girl from my dream.”

This triggered more frowning.

“As it turns out Norrie’s girlfriend Lucy is also the girl who woke me up screaming.”

George was still scribbling in his notebook. Lockwood didn’t say a word.

“I don’t really get it either. Hence the silence.”

He grabbed her hand in both of his. He was gentle, like her bones would break if he made any sudden movements.

“Do you… want to talk about it?”

“I don’t think there’s a lot to talk about for now.” She said gently. She still didn’t know what to do with this and didn’t want to burden anyone. “But thank you…” She took back her hand, smoothed down her skirt and sat back, coincidently distancing herself from him. “How about we just get back to Dufour?”

“Right…” He flexed his hand while looking down. He looked back at her, his usual smirk curving his lips. “You can’t let it go, can you?”

“Remind me when you let go of your rivalry with Kipps?”

He smiled, pausing for a second. There was a complicity in the look they shared. The butterflies in her stomach fluttered their wings. She pushed the feeling down as much as she could, trying to win their staring match without blushing. She failed, obviously. Lockwood got up with a satisfied look on his face.

“So, what should we do? I mean… I think my lead is pretty solid…” He said looking up at the ceiling.

“No, it’s not. It’s numbers on a torn envelope Lockwood!” George retorted.

“What do you think y/n?”

“When it comes to instinct, you told me to always listen to George and I followed that rule religiously since I joined the agency.”

“Like following the rules is going to help us with your revenge plan…” He rolled his eyes. But he didn’t look offended or disappointed. He looked…proud?

“But fine it’s two against one anyway and I’m a fair leader. We’ll start with this organization and see what we find.”

George didn’t need more. He rushed back to his room, slamming the door with a renewed determination. They probably wouldn’t see him again until dinner. A silence fell over the room. Her mind wandered, going back to the girl haunting her nights. She had asked her to find her and she had. Now what? She didn’t feel relieved, and meeting that girl hadn’t felt like she was fulfilling some prophecy, accomplishing her fate in a high-pressure decisive moment. What if she had been too late? What if from the start she was supposed to help Lucy save her team? Maybe she was cursed with the guilt she had felt in her nightmare, forever unable to sleep soundly again.

A hand resting on her wrist brought her back to reality. Lockwood had sat back down next to her and was stroking his thumb back and forth on her skin in a soothing way.

“We’ll work it out.” He reassured her. “The answer could be in the extensive research George will make us do.” She looked at him unconvinced, but she appreciated his effort to make her feel better.

“He’s not gonna let us rest, is he?”

“I wouldn’t count on it.”

“On the bright side, if I’m exhausted it might keep my mind off this.”

He held her hand tighter before letting go. She almost reached for his arm to get him to sit back down next to her. As he told her to get some rest before the busy day awaiting them, she ran back upstairs, her wrist still tingly.

The week that followed was in fact a busy one. They followed a strict schedule of intense research, rigorous preparation of their cases and efficient ghost clearing. The military-like organization was all George of course. He took the habit of waking them at 7:30 sharp by knocking repeatedly on their door until they were up to tell him to stop. They were among the first people present at the archives. Each day George assigned articles and newspaper respectively to Lockwood and her while he worked on the case they had that night. At noon they would switch, George looking over their research while they got familiar with the case before heading home to prep their bags for the evening. It was exhausting but she had to admit that it was yielding results. In just a week they had uncovered detailed information about the organization, how it was founded, who it was founded by, and why it was created in the first place. George had summed up the information both in their casebook and on the Thinking Cloth. Every morning as she drank her cup of tea she could read:

“Silverpoint organization – 1996 – founder Theodor Mullet of Mullet & Sons

TM eldest son and heir to M&S, created Sp Org to “further his father’s legacy” and protect agents against field injuries unrelated to ghost-lock

One fundraiser organized each year

Strong link to M&S rapier supplier

Funds from Fittes?

No financial records or official information available”

She couldn’t help feeling insulted that she slept so little only for their hard work to be summed up in a few lines. She didn’t complain however, at least she had helped find some of this information. Lockwood on the other hand was out of his depth. Research had never been the part he excelled at. He was too impatient and couldn’t sit still. By default, George took the lead but y/n could feel Lockwood’s pride taking a hit. If George, resident researcher of 35 Portland Row, was now in charge, what good was he? He tried his best to remain helpful by offering theories of his own. He kept insisting that the lack of financial records was suspicious and that his hunch was right. Of course, he did so without an ounce of pettiness and repeated that they should have listened to him from the start. y/n had a hard time believing him. His frustration started to show and it affected his work. During cases at night, he was bolder, trying to show off. At one point they were fending off a visitor which could have been easily handled at two while George looked for the source yet he picked this time to demonstrate the new move he had been practicing all day. The night had ended with a rush to the hospital and three stitches.

Today was a close call too. He had jumped down a flight of stairs to get between her and a visitor. She thought he probably had good intentions but she had her rapier ready and the situation was under control. It was a relief to see he didn’t break anything, a miracle frankly. She didn’t need a third time to decide to act. She would talk to George in the morning to convince him to spend some time looking into Lockwood’s lead.

They came back home exhausted, George going to bed immediately to stick to his schedule. She was about to do the same when she noticed the light was on in the library. She wasn’t surprised to see Lockwood sitting there with one of his magazines in his lap, acting like the day had no effect on him. He simply smiled at her when she entered and kept reading. She told him that he should rest. He simply hummed in agreement but didn’t move except to turn the page. She was about to give up and leave him there when he bolted up to show her the page he was on. It was a double page ad for an open-door day at Mullet&Sons, inviting clients to try their new line of rapiers and meet the board. The perfect occasion to get closer and hopefully find out more about the founder of the Silverpoint Organization. A light brightened his eyes as he smiled at her. She was certain he wouldn’t shut up about his finding.

A call the next day brought their enthusiasm back down. Right before they left for the Archives, Inspector Barnes had called. Lockwood had answered. His smile had faltered as the conversation went on. He hung up and stayed silent until George asked him what he wanted. Apparently, the inspector had called to warn them again. Only this time the threat had become much more real. Superiors at DEPRAC had taken an interest in the complaints against them, mostly to get Fittes off their back Lockwood thought. But it didn’t matter why, what mattered was that the ridiculous rehabilitation program offered by an unqualified journalist was getting more consideration than originally thought. One mishap would turn y/n and George into the first test subjects of this “educational” experiment. They were now under more surveillance than before. Sneaking into Mullet&Sons offices during their next event was out of the question, they’d be the first accused.

They stood in the hallway in silence, unsure what to do next. Researching more at the Archives seemed futile now.

“I might have an idea.” Lockwood said.

They looked up at him expectantly.

“We go after the financial records.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake Lockwood.” George swore. She understood his frustration. Being right didn’t matter now, and this was really not the time. Plus, stealing financial records wasn’t much better to remain far from suspicions.

“Lockwood…” She looked up at him. “We don’t have a way to do that legally and we’ll be the first interrogated. How could we even give evidence to DEPRAC, if we ever find any?”

“We get ourselves an airtight alibi.” He said proudly, like it was obvious.

They stared at him with a beaten expression, still not knowing what he had in mind. He went to the library and came back with the magazine he was reading last night. He eagerly handed it to them, open on a page featuring one of those fancy parties that took place occasionally. Though it wasn’t just any party, it was a fundraiser for the Silverpoint Organization. The next fundraiser was taking place next week and for the occasion an article was referencing last year’s event.

“We get into this party, make sure that everyone sees us and hopefully get some information about Theodor while talking to the guests.”

“But what about the records?”

“We’ll need some extra help.” He said before winking at her.

---

“By getting traces of the transactions between the organization and relic-men we can bring down the operation. And for that we need your help.”

Lockwood was back to his usual self. Charming, self-assured and most importantly in charge. The two girls in front of him had very different reactions. Norrie seemed to have made up her mind already, looking over at George every once in a while like she was in a hurry to get to work. Lucy was more skeptical. She looked like she was battling conflicted emotions. y/n didn’t blame her. They barely knew each other and they were asking her to steal financial records. They had just given up on a whole life, trying to adapt and they should throw all that away to help people they had just met? It was madness and y/n felt bad for asking them such a thing. But she didn’t really have a choice. Aside from them, there weren’t a lot of candidates.

After his whole speech, Lockwood sat in front of them, determination piercing through his eyes. He quirked his lips up in the slightest. She knew all too well this intense stare and irresistible smile. She hadn’t managed to turn him down, not many could. He spoke in a softer voice to try and convince Lucy to join their cause. And it was working, she was considering it. She said she needed time to think it over. But Lockwood wasn’t usually patient. y/n knew what would come next. A compassionate and understanding tirade so sincere you couldn’t help but join his side. But she knew what Lucy had been through, she was there sort of. Not ten seconds after Lockwood had started speaking again she interrupted.

“Lockwood stop.”

“Is there something wrong?”

“Don’t do this, just give her some time to think it over.”

“We don’t have a lot of time y/n!” He turned back to Lucy. “And as much as I understand the difficult position this puts you in-”

“Just shut up Lockwood!”

George sighed and buried his head in his hands. Norrie asked him what was wrong.

“They had just started to get along!”

y/n ignored his comments.

“Lucy, I’m sorry if we made you uncomfortable. I completely understand if you don’t want to join us and stay far away from anything agency related. I just think that we can trust you and we desperately need allies right now. We don’t need a definitive answer now, but do you think you could give it some thought… maybe?”

Lucy looked up at her with a softness in her gaze. She was scarred, that much was clear. She seemed afraid too. But there was much more than that. There was resilience and bravery. An ember in the ashes.

“I’ll think about it.” She said with a thin smile. They exchanged a glance that was enough to make y/n feel a deep connection to the girl. She reached for Norrie’s hand as they exited the room. There was so much more she wanted to say to her. She wanted to tell her about her dreams, about the relief she felt now that she got to know her. The platonic attraction she felt was overwhelming. She had never wanted to be friends with someone so ardently. There was something special about her. She didn’t know if it was El’s betrayal that left a scar or if her dreams were a sign of a deeper bond, but she desperately wanted to find out. She led them back in the hall and slowly closed the door behind them.

She turned to find Lockwood staring at her with a hurt look on his face.

“What the hell was that?”

“I’m… sorry…”

“I’ve been jumping through hoops with you since I met you and I’m getting tired of it.”

Her heart sank.

“Yeah, that’s fair. In my defense, I knew what you were doing and I couldn’t in good conscience let you go through with it.”

“What was I doing?”

“Faking compassion to get what you want.”

“Oh please, not that again. I was just trying to get the help we need. We’re in this mess because of you need I remind you.”

“Lucy’s been through a lot and she deserves genuine sympathy, not some fake act you put on every time we have a difficult client. I still have nightmares about what happened to them, you can’t imagine how it feels.”

“I can actually.”

There was a silence. He looked deeply hurt. She didn’t dare speak, knowing the matter was probably more sensitive than she realized.

“I’m doing everything I can to help you and I need you to be more cooperative. I’m not risking the reputation of my company if this is the thanks I get.”

“You’re right…” She said after a moment. “I went too far.”

He nodded. They stood in silence, neither of them daring to move.

“Just don’t be mean to me again.”

“I won’t.”

He turned to enter the kitchen.

“I wasn’t really mean though…” She said on a hesitant tone. “I was rude sure. But mean… Kipps is mean. He degrades you and all…” She didn’t even know why she said that. A desperate attempt at lightening the mood, giving Lockwood a reason to redirect his anger at someone else. It was pathetic. She could already see herself unable to sleep months from now living the shame of this moment all over again.

“Oh, so you agree with me now?” He answered turning around. “When did you take the “best leader of the best team” off his pedestal?”

She smiled.

“You’re still a bigger prick than he is though.”

He smiled back.

“Tea?”

#who follows the rules anyway #ukuwrites #lockwood and co fic #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x y/n #lockwood and co imagine #anthony lockwood #lockwood & co #george karim #lucy carlyle #norrie white

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alimaybankkk · 2 years ago

Text

fraud

summary: summer flings to enemies to best friends to lovers with jj.

warnings: light mentions of sex, abuse, uhh, idk except MAJOR ANGST

pairing: jj maybank x kook!pogue!reader

jj liked sarah. he liked her a lot. sure, he would have never have given her the change john b did, but whatever made his best friend happy made him happy, too.

and soon, sarah was his best friend, too. he liked her a lot more now, thankful that his friend had brought her with him. he liked getting new friends.

things with sarah were going great. she was a great friend. there was nothing he hated about her until she showed up with another kook at the chateau.

kiara must have recognized her, too, cause she ran up to her and hugged her tightly.

jj recognized her. it was one of the girls he slept with a few years ago and led on for a few weeks. she had had feelings for him, and it made him infuriated. now, he hated her .

when sarah walked in with her, he immediately stood up and walked away. she recognized him as well, biting her lip as she watched jj avoid her gaze. she’d tried to say hello, but he just looked at her and rolled his eyes.

weeks later, it was the same routine. eye contact, dirty look from jj and a smile from her and silence. sarah was bringing her around every day, and jj could not be more mad.

the traditional pogue boat night was coming up and unfortunately for jj, sarah had invited her to come.

“john b, how do you let sarah bring that bitchy ass kook around all the time?” jj asked, touching john b’s shoulder.

“you have to stop this, j. we talked about this. be nice to her. she’s a really nice person!”

jj scoffed. “like hell she is.”

“why are you such a jerk all the time? she’s coming today whether you like it or not. you’re going to get along with her.”

jj let john b walk ahead of him, slowing down and kicking the stump of a thin tree that fell immediately after. he smirked, his confidence boosting his mood.

* he watched you from afar, gritting his teeth. his head was spinning as he watched you dance with kie and have deep conversations with pope.

he’d watched the entire day. sitting there, thinking of all the reasons he hated you, but when you walked up to john b and started calling him “bird,” he flipped.

“get out of here!” he yelled, stepping up to you.

you were taken aback, watching jj’s eyes as they practically turned red. “‘scuse me?”

he shook his head. “you can play dumb all you want, kook princess. stop acting like you’re perfect. you’re nothing but a fraud.”

“i’m..”

“don’t wanna hear it.”

“jj!” kiara meddled, slapping his arm.

you raised an eyebrow. “i don’t even know what i did to you. you always have a problem with me. what is it?”

“stop it, guys!” sarah squealed, pushing jj. “what is the matter with you?”

john b stepped forward. “all you do is give each other dirty looks—”

“i’ve never done anything to him!! i’m always so nice to you, and you treat me like shit!” you yell, tears coming from your eyes. “i apparently don’t belong anywhere. too poor for the kooks, but too rich for the pogues. nobody wants me. and your little group was the only one that did. the only problem is you, maybank.”

he took a deep breath, stepping closer to you. you thought for a moment he would apologize, but instead he licked his lips and nodded his head up. “get out of here, princess.”

tears welled up in your eyes as you shoved him away, kneeing him in the nuts. he groaned and bent over.

“fuck you, maybank.” you said before mounting his bike and riding away.

* you curled into a ball in your sheets and listened to your parents fighting. you wished you could go down and get them to stop, but you knew it would result in you getting hurt.

sobbing, thinking about what happened today surely would make you upset. jj had banned you from seeing your friends and it hurt. they were the only people that accepted you and you didn’t know what to do.

you gave up on caring. you got up out of bed as fast as you could and sprinted downstairs when you heard a glass break.

your dad swayed, drunk, and when he say you, he walked to you. “hey, peach!”

“dad,” you whispered, looking past his shoulder. “what did you do to mom?”

he chuckles. “you mean that little bitch? don’t worry ‘bout her. she’s just sleepin’ little thing.”

“no, no,” you said, trying to push past him. “mom!! dad, what did you do?? what did you fucking do?”

he shrugged. “bitches get stitches. threw a bottle at her. no big deal she just passed out at the shock, peach.”

“dad,” you cried, tears welling in your eyes. “please, please let me see her.”

“‘don’t think so darling. wanna watch a movie? food old fashioned popcorn, yeah?”

you shook your head and when you tried to push past him the last time, he shoved you to the ground.

“dad, stop!” you cried, slapping his shoulders.

he laughed, punching you in the mouth. “look, peach. this is for ya own good, got it? not gonna stop hurting you until ya realize your mom’s a bastard.”

“no, she’s not!” you managed to cry. he only chuckled and banged your head on the ground once more.

“ya gonna regret this, peach.” he backed out of view for a moment and you squeezed your eyes shut. suddenly, you felt a sharp pain in your stomach.

it shocked you into action, screaming at the top of your lungs as you opened your eyes. he was dragging a broken piece of glass on your stomach, otherwise he was digging his fists into it.

“dad,” you breathed. “wh-da-dad, stop it. i get it. i get it. mom’s a bastard.”

“say it louder.”

“MY MOM’S A BASTARD.” you sobbed. he dropped the glass and stood, leaving the house immediately.

you laid there for five minutes, sobbing and aching until eventually you got the strength to take care of your mother. after cleaning her face which was painted in cuts, you slowly took her to the guest room where your dad would not find her and tucked her safe and sound under the covers.

you bit your lip. the plan was worse. you looked down at your shirt and saw a big red puddle forming. “shit.”

you ran to the bathroom and put pressure on the wound, moaning in pain. eventually it stopped bleeding. you had cuts and bruises on your face that were able to be covered so you let them be. besides, no one would see your stomach anyway.

you wobbled to your room and slid on a pair of sweat pants and a sweatshirt, turning on your lamp and crying in silence for a little bit.

you heard footsteps outside of your window. cursing, you sobbed, “dad?”

the window opened and there was not your dad, but jj. you couldn’t even explain why you were relieved to see him. you just were.

“jj,” you said, wiping your tears. you looked over at the lamp and turned it off so he wouldn’t see your cuts. “what are you doing here?”

“came to steal my bike back and decided to drop in and check out your crib,” he said sinisterly.

you frowned. now, of all times, was not the time to argue with him. “jj, i need you to leave.”

“why? can’t i check out the bitchy princess’s home?” he snarled.

you shook your head and stood. “jj, please. i’m serious. go.”

he shoved you and you stumbled against the wall, your body aching so bad you let out a glass breaking cry.

he raised an eyebrow. “pussy.”

you opened your eyes and started at him, wishing you could yell at him. he had no clue what was going on.

“get out of here,” you said, falling to the ground.

he shrugged. “fine by me. you stink like a brat.”

you sobbed so hard as he closes the window after leaving. * he pinched himself.

he punched himself.

“what the fuck is wrong with me?!” he yelled, punching his wall.

he was overly aware of his being a jerk to you. he was punishing himself hard for it. he never chooses to do it, it always just comes out. every time it happens, he ends up crying in regret.

not a single word is true.

not a single “i hate you” is true.

he wanted to kiss you. only recently.

at first, he really did hate you. he knew you were pretty and he knew your body was pretty with his experience before meeting you again, but he never thought you were a good person.

your smile made him sick. your laugh made him angry.

until a few weeks ago.

your smile made him lovesick. your laugh made him angry.

that he was such a jerk to you.

and he knew. he knew he could not stop, no matter how hard he tried.

he knew that it would forever be like this and he could never hold you in his arms and kiss you until you felt better. it would not be fair to you.

so everyone he was a jerk to you, he would come home and wreck his room and his walls, each hole in them representing each word he regretted.

there was no going back now. he knew you would never forgive him. and it was fair. you didn’t deserve someone like him. but the problem was—

when you had told him you loved him when he was sleeping with you a few years ago, he froze. he never heard those words before from someone who wasn’t family or friends. he never saw you that way. he felt guilty about it.

so he pushed you away and eventually, the distance made him hate you.

but now, every time you get on the boat and flash him a shy smile, he only rolls his eyes because of how pretty it was. or how he knows that you will never be his and it hurts him so bad.

“i’m stopping this now,” he whispered after a while, sitting on his bed.

he was sick of hurting you. he put his hands on you in a hurting way and when he watched you cry because of him, he wanted to off himself then and there.

“i’m so, so sorry baby.” he whispered, hoping that maybe the feeling that he didn’t hate you would somehow be carried into your heart.

* in the morning, you dressed in baggy clothes and started your car. after jj basically jumped you yesterday, you didn’t care what he thought.

he was just like a kook.

a bully.

you winced at the pain as your back hit the seat and your stomach touched the wheel. your eyes almost filled up with tears but you blinked then away and drove to the chateau.

when you got there, jj was chilling in the hot tub, but you’d didn’t say anything.

“hey, princess,” he said, making you stop. the tone of his voice was different. “i’m sorry about last night. did i hurt you?”

you rolled your eyes. “shut up, jj.”

he licked his lips. “right, yeah, i deserve that. um.”

“jj, don’t you care that i’m human? kook or pogue, i’m human. i think i deserve to be treated like one.” you said.

he noticed you weren’t even speaking to him. your eyes were filled with tears and your voice was distant. you weren’t even looking at him. you were looking in the direction you came from.

jj’s heart dropped and hurt like a bitch. he wanted to cry and hold you in his arms, but he knew you hated him.

“y/n,” he breathed. “what’s wrong?”

“nothing,” you said quickly.

he sighed. “wanna come in the hot tub?”

you blinked, thinking of the gashes and bruises on your stomach. “i think i’ll pass.”

“come on, princess,” he whined and took a puff from his joint. “you can have a j, too.”

“jj, i can’t.” you said after a minute of silence.

he sat up. “why, don’t want me to see your curves? i’ve seen them before, pretty girl. in fact, i saw every bit of them.”

you almost folded. you couldn’t let him see your bruises, though. “jj, i have to go.”

you tried to walk past him, but you were stopped when he grabbed your hand. “stay, baby. please.”

“why are you being like that?” you asked.

he shrugged. “i’m sorry about everything. come in.”

you sighed and stepped into the hot tub with all of your clothes on.

“are you kidding me?” he scoffed.

you shook your head. “gimme a sec.”

you slid your sweat pants off and then your sweatshirt, discarding the soaking clothes over the side of the hot tub.

you immediately brought your knees against your chest, hiding your stomach.

he giggled and splashed at your face, wetting your hair.

you giggled back and rubbed your face in your hands and took them back down, spotting the concealer on them. it was not waterproof.

“y/n?” he asked. you looked up, expecting him to be frowning at your face, but instead, he was looking down at your stomach.

“shit.”

he gasped, standing up. “who. did. that.”

you shook your head. “jj, i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean for you to see that.”

“i said, who did that?” he asked.

“no one, jj. why do you even care?”

he grit his teeth. “cause i will kill whoever touched my girl.”

you looked up at him as he caressed your face. you sighed. “my dad.”

he looked to his right, cursing. “i’m sorry. and me too.”

“what?”

“my dad does it, too. it’s okay. i got you,” he said as he hugged you, careful not to touch your stomach.

you sobbed into his shoulder, knowing this was the start of a friendship with jj.

* months had gone by and he was your best friend. you were with him all the time. if you were to tell him you were going home, he’d say, “your dad home?”

and if it was yes, he’d say, “‘m comin with you.”

* he sat on your bed, holding your hand as you cried about your dad. “it makes me happy he hasn’t touched me in a while, but… man, he has a mouth.”

“‘m gonna kill him,” jj said, starting to stand.

“jj, no. we talked about this.” you said, grabbing his hand.

“just makes me s’mad, y’know? i wish i could kick his ass.” he said, sitting back down on the bed.

“i could never do that. i’m too scared of him.” i said, batting my eyes.

“good thing your best friend is jj maybank.”

“the one that tells you you’re a fraud?”

he stared at you for a few moments, and you stared at him back. finally, he laughed. “sorry about that.”

you grinned. “i don’t care now. it was in the past.

“hey, by the way,” jj said. “i have to work for midsummers and i was wondering if you wanted to come as my date.”

you looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “how kooky of you.”

“not funny,” he whined. you could tell he was nervous by the way he shifted around in his seat and tapped the bed with his finger.

“sure. i just know you can’t stand to be without me,” you teased.

“i can’t.” he said back with hooded eyes.

you grinned, ignoring him. *

“i look like a total mess, sarah,” you said, tugging at the bottom of your dress. “this dress is like two inches. my butt cheeks are literally out.”

sarah only gigged and adjusted the necklace on her neck as kie closed the door. “exactly why jj will love it so much.”

“shut up!” you screamed, although you couldn’t hide the blush building on your cheeks.

“it’s true, though,” sarah agreed. “and by the way, remember when you guys hated each other?”

“remember it all the time.”

“what even happened?” kiara asked.

“nothing,” you said, remembering the scar that was still on your stomach today.

* jj wrapped his arms around you at the bar, pointing at your head. “this one’s my girl.”

“your girlfriend?” a kook asked.

he grinned. “yeah. she’s all mine.”

“how much did you drink?” you whispered to him. you looked back at the kook. “i’m not his girlfriend.”

“thought so. have fun,” he said before walking off.

you sighed, grabbing jj’s hand. “jj, how many beers did you have?”

“okay, so like,” he stopped, counting on his fingers. he looked up with a 10 showing on them. you covered your mouth.

“holy shit, j, i have to get you home,” you said, dragging him to the twinkie and being stopped by the rest of your friends on the way.

“where are you guys going?” pope asked.

“he’s hella drunk, i have to take him home.” you said, pointing to jj.

“holy shit, do you want me to come?” john b asked.

“no!” jj interrupted. “just y/n. just my girl, please.”

everyone exchanged looks and you rolled your eyes, knowing you would be screaming at jj in the morning.

you dragged him past the crowd and slapped his hand away from a gray when he reached to grab a beer.

“no more, boy.” you told him. he groaned and leaned his head on your shoulder.

eventually you made it into the twinkie where jj collapsed into the passenger seat, hitting his head off of the roof.

“i’ll get you home, ‘kay?”

be looked at you as you started the car, admiring you. “you’re so pretty.”

you stopped . “jj, please. you’re drunk. don’t say shit like that.”

“‘m being serious. you’re so damn beautiful baby.”

you sighed and ignored him, turning around to back out of the parking lot.

“i love you.”

you weren’t taken aback—he said this all the time. “i love you too, jj.”

“no,” he said.

“no what?”

“not like that. i love you. you’re my girl. love you, baby.”

you shook your head and exhaled. “in the morning, jj.”

* you had to help jj shower. he was not able to stand on his own and youMd already seen him a few times because of those many times you laid together in bed those summers ago.

you helped him out if the bathroom with his arm and most of his body weight on top of you and dropped him onto the bed.

“goodnight, jj.” you said before kissing his head.

“wait, princess, please,” he whispered, tapping your arm. “stay, please.”

you stared at him for a little bit, enjoying the pinkness of his nose and his lips and the blush of his cheeks and the twinkle of his eye. muon sighed and he immediately moved over as you slid into the bed.

he held out his arms and t you took that as a signal to lay in them. he smiled, drifting off to a peaceful sleep.

* when you woke up, jj was not there.

you groaned and stood out of bed, bringing yourself to the kitchen were jj was rummaging through the fridge.

“what are you looking for?” you asked, obviously startling him as he jumped.

“um, ‘m just looking for an ice pack.” he said. “shit. none in here.”

you sighed and moved him out of the way, rummaging through the fridge with your own hands. eventually, you pulls out a blue ice pack and pressed it to his head. “hangover?”

he nodded and kissed you on the cheek as a “thank you” and you froze. his kiss felt more intimate than usual.

“can we talk?” he asked. you bit your lip and nodded.

the two of you walked back into the chateau guest room. he laid down in the bed and patted the room next to him.

once you are at least close to where he wanted you, he piled you down and brought you extremely close to him, cuddling you like it was the last thing he could do.

“about yesterday,” jj said. “i’m sorry…”

“you were really drunk.” you reminded him.

“i know. exactly. i’m sorry.”

“you don’t have to be. i knew you weren’t really feeling that way. you almost kissed me and stuff.. i couldn’t let you do that.”

“no,” jj said. “y/n, i do love you. i am in absolute love with you. you said we could talk about it today and we are, and i’m telling you that i am still in love with you as much as i did yesterday. i’m only sorry about the fact that i told you when i was dunk. i wish i waited.”

you blinked, not knowing what to say. “really?”

“really, baby. probably from the moment i saw you. i’m sorry i pushed you away.”

you smiled and leaned forward, kissing him. he kissed you back, making it last for around a minute. it was passionate and neat. he was willing to take his time with you.

when you finally pulled back, you only smirked at him. “i love you too. you should know that. told you it years ago. it never. changed.”

#jj x reader #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank #jj mayback imagine #jj obx #jj maybank x reader #obx imagine #obx fic #outerbanks #obx #outerbanks fic #outer banks

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screampied · 26 days ago

Note

Hello!! I hope you are doing good nowadays.

Your sugar daddy! Gojo is always on my mind. I think, I wake up and the first thing comes to me is him, and when I go to bed he is the last thing I think about. Yeah, I maybe went a little bit crazy over him, but, do not judge me!!! The way you are writing him is so freaking delicious, I keep rereading your works and not because I love your smut(still the best), I adore the personality you created for him.

I enjoy dreaming about how sugar daddy! Gojo will be happy to be in real relationship with reader, not just some fuck here and there for money, maybe, sometimes he really wants to create family with her. The man literally found his reason to live in her and I cannot blame him.

He would be a great dad for their children. He is the type to spoil his child a little bit, but still be the strict one. He is the one to teach them how to be a good man or how a real man must treat a woman. Maybe, he will be too much happy when his first child is a daughter. He will talk about her a lot and always call her “my little princess”.

I just wanna keep him in my pocket🥹🥹🥹🥹 He is probably the one, who gives the best hugs and always say “everything will be okay, sweetheart, I am always here for you and only you” or something like that.

Thank you for creating my everyday meal and I send you the best kisses on cheeks and forehead🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

ANON BABY, UR GONNA MAKEME CRYYY 🥹🥹 i meant to answer this yesterday but ive been drowning in last minute assignments but im here now !!!!!

first i just wanna say — THANKYOUUU for reading lap of luxury !!!! like, genuinely :( im glad u enjoy sd! gojo. i should really be thanking yall bc i had you all vote for what series to write and everyoneee voted sugar daddy gojo hehe. he’s really fun to write and it’s crazy the lil mini series has been up for about maybe what, seven months now?

also icl🕴️ you guys are on me and i do apologize for the slow updates h- haha.. don’t stone me. more content should be coming soon whenever i feel like it’s ready to be posted !! hopefully before this month ends bc ive been dyiiiiing to expand more on their sugar relationship <3

noooo i understand u !!!! i want him too 💆‍♀️ oh to have a rich, loving sugar daddy that’s literally the gojo satoru. the dream. but i’m so glad you like his personality :((( AH i honestly get scared because i think gojo’s my most hardest character to write bc i have a fear of being too ooc sometimes but hearing u say that makes me happy. 🎀

YESSSSS YOU GET IT ☝️. in the first fic in hell on heels, satoru def probably gave the vibe where he’s just in for a quick fuck n to spoil reader but u can kinda see them develop. like i think after bon appetit n harley’s in hawaii he’s really starting to feel more than just the sugar baby dynamic :’))) and idk if i mentioned it in the au !!!! but reader is his first sugar baby, satoru’s a powerful ceo businessman but just couldn’t help but sweep her off her feet when he met her in first class.

i think in the next installment, he’s gonna introduce reader to his parents — that’s what i’ve originally outlined so we’ll see how that goes 💆‍♀️. mhm, you’re right though. i think sd! gojo would definitely be a family man, a sweet loving dad for sure. throughout your whole pregnancy he’d be supportive. i can really see gojo as a girl dad n he’d be so protective for his daughter, giving her the childhood he never got growing up. (i kinda wanna expand more on his lore, maybe give satoru a kinda sad upbringing hmmm. . )

but “my little princess” KMGONNA SOB. gojo loves his girls <3 i teased a bit about starting a family with him in the last fic, so who knows !!! imagine him taking you to your doctor appointments :(((. doesn’t mind calling off important business meetings to spend time with his family, oh im sick. he does give the best hugs n im callin it ☝️

really though nonnie, you don’t know HOW much this sweet message of yours brightened my day 🥹💗. i dunno how to express my love n gratitude to you, but im soso glad you enjoy sugar daddy gojo! he loves you !!!! and he’ll be back soon ^.^

#🧁#✰ミ݁ ׅ ࣪ asks.

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sopejinsunflower · 2 years ago

Text

a/n: ok so this started out with a completely different idea but when idk, somewhere along the way the plot kinda left the chat and it just screams horny horny brain is horny so yeah…but I had this idea ever since Arson came out lol I hope you guys enjoy it anyway. It has been sitting in my WIP since December and I honestly didn't do much editing or proofreading >.<

Title: Was actually originally called Devil May Care

Warning: 18+, violence implied, gun use, minor DNI

Summary: You are a very highly respectable business woman but your scene is less than…ideal. You need a new head of security but with a tight schedule, you have to hire someone with just the basic qualification. It’s all fine until you realise your new head of security is someone you’ve been masturbating to for most of your adult life. And to make things worse (or better), he knows you know.

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x you, Park Jimin

Tags: Employer-employee AU! Penetrative sex, masturbation implied, violence mentioned, slight Hoseok dom because no way I’m NOT putting that in.

Word count: 19k

You slam your bag onto the surface of your desk hard enough for the sound to jerk everyone upright, standing rigidly waiting for you to unleash your anger.

You raise your gaze, glaring daggers at the man standing across from you with his eyes downcast, hands clasped together in front of him. “Explain yourself,” you growl out in between gritted teeth.

He only purses his lips, unable to come up with anything. He fucked up, he knows, and as your head of security, he knows he’s about to get the axe. You don’t repeat yourself, knowing full well what happened and how it had happened but you just wanted him to admit it and he can’t even do that. Your instructions had been simple, and yet it had seemed to be a tall order for someone with twenty-five years under the belt as a security guard to high risk VIPs such as yourself; working in the diamond industry comes with its perks.

He had one job: protect you. When you are closing in on deals, most times the merchandise is already with you, hidden in secretly-sewn pockets to be retrieved once everything is signed and the payment method is handed over and checked. Payment method, because people don’t usually pay with cash, especially those black organisations that insist on meeting in dark dingy rooms or empty parking lots. And you can never trust them fully to not fuck you over during those meetings so his job was to make sure that there are no unpleasant surprises beforehand and if it does happen, get you out of there safely.

But here you are, standing in your office, half the guards smelling like gunsmokes, three of them currently being tended to by your private doctor for bullet wounds and there’s a thin, light scratch over your forehead and your shoulders are starting to ache from having to fire your own Glock while running. The situation had been far from safe and it all fell onto his shoulders. You check your reflection in the cabinet glass, huff and turn around. “Get the fuck out of my face. You’re fired.”

He gives you one last bow and walks out of the room, hands clenched in fists. You’re not an easy employer, even you know that, but you are fair and pay people five times the market rate, more than fair for the kind of environment they have to work in. But those high wages don’t come easy; you have strict criterias and requirements for both the roles and the responsibilities they carry. You’re not irrational but you have to maintain the highest vigilance not just for your sake, but for everyone involved. When you need job A to be done in a certain way, it must be followed to the T. Or things like this happen.

You heave a tired sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. Without looking, you wave your hand to dismiss the other guards and plop yourself in your reclining leather chair, feeling a thousand pounds heavier than you did in the morning. To be completely honest, you had been having the same nagging feeling for a week now, leading to that meeting with the Ryuukai, the Dragon Organisation, but, then again, you always feel weird during the days prior to a black market deal. If only you’d listened more to your gut feeling, but hindsight is always fifty-fifty.

First thing’s first: you need a new head of security.

You rub at your face, sigh again, and call for your executive secretary. Park Jimin swishes in through the door not three seconds later and you look up in surprise. He’s holding a glass of water and an ibuprofen for the headache that’s starting up, his usual notebook clamped in his armpit. “How long were you waiting outside the door?” you ask, taking the glass and painkiller gratefully.

“Just right after Hank walked out,” he answers airily, sitting down in one of the velvet chairs across from you, crossing his legs and taking out his pen and notebook.

Jimin is in a three-piece suit but without the jacket and his sleeves rolled up. Honestly, he dresses like a boss himself instead of a secretary but working with you means he’s technically in charge of the whole office. His nickname is God’s Messenger because when he delivers your orders or instructions, the others obey without a word. He’s more of a right-hand-man, too, by how much you rely on him when you’re not in.

You place the pill at the back of your tongue and take huge gulps of the water to swallow it, almost finishing the whole tall glass. You sigh, sitting back, eyes still closed. “Why does it seem like you’re the only one who knows to do your job well? It’s so hard to find reliable employees these days.”

Jimin preens in his chair, sitting up straighter. “Well, first, I don’t seem to do my job well, I do my job well. Second, stop sighing like an old woman. Third, I don’t have any response regarding reliable employees but I’m assuming we’ll need to hire a new one?”

You nod, sitting up and letting out another long, heavy sigh much to Jimin’s annoyance. “Do you think you can find someone in two weeks?”

“You’re getting more and more demanding,” he says nonchalantly, writing down something in his notebook. “Two weeks, got it. Shall I put ‘psychic’ as the requirement?” At the confused look from you, he adds, waving the pen around, “Oh, you know, so he’s able to tell if a situation could go bad. Like Hank couldn’t.”

Your face immediately turns sour. “A thorough investigation would have been enough to avoid that whole mess,” you hiss, clenching the edge of the desk. “I almost lost men out there!”

Jimin suppresses from rolling his eyes. “Right, right. So someone thorough, got it. Two weeks won’t be enough time to find someone of your high standards. Are you sure you don’t want to postpone that deal with the Sumiyoshi?”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “This meeting has been scheduled for months now. I can’t mess this up. They’re already pissed about the last botched merch from last time. And I’m still pissed about that.”

Jimin scoffs in between his writing. “Don’t worry. The guy is still paying for his mistakes until today in some basement out there. You made sure of that. I don’t know if we can find quality and reliable candidates in this short time but I’ll dig around. No promises, though.”

“Update me again in a week,” you tell him as he’s leaving your office.

He pauses in the doorway, leaning back to look at you. A genuine look of concern is clear on his face. “Go home and rest. You look like shit. I’ll handle things here.”

You give him an appreciative smile and pack up your things, wanting nothing more than a long warm bath and pulling your fluffy duvet over you so you can curl up and sleep in your empty king bed. You get home, get undressed and strut around naked in your apartment. You start to fill up the bath and while the water is going, you head for a glass of white wine in the kitchen, something to calm your nerves. It didn’t help much.

The bath beeps and you head to the bathroom, throw in your favourite bath bomb and watch it fizzle as you take a quick shower to rinse off; you hate the idea of sitting in your own filth. Then you step in and have about a fifteen-minute soak. The warm water helps soothe your aching muscles and your left hand, the one you use to shoot your gun, finally stops shaking. You add another bath bomb to the water but when you step out, you can still smell the gunpowder. You take a second shower and spend extra time rubbing your body with a loofah and washing your hair.

Satisfied that there’s no more smell, you pull on a comfortable satin slip, dry your hair and dive into bed. The thick, black-out curtains have been pulled shut and you’re hoping to take a nap but no matter how long you lie there, you keep blinking up at the ceiling, replaying today’s shitshow over and over again.

It’s not your first shoot-out, of course, but it doesn’t make it any less scary each time. The Ryuukai is known to be difficult but you’ve done deals with them in the past before and they have all gone smoothly enough. This time though, you learnt that there had been a shift in the organisation and there were new faces, even the middleman was someone you’ve never met before and not the person you talked to a month prior to setting up the meeting. Everything had felt fishy and shadier than usual and you wish you had followed your gut.

Your entourage had been ambushed. The Ryuukai had attempted to get their hands on the diamonds by force and your whole team had walked straight into a trap. When it was obvious they couldn’t find where the merchandise was, they chose violence. To be fair, Jimin was right; Hank couldn’t have known how that would turn out but there’s a reason one of his main responsibilities is to stake out and investigate every little detail ahead of the meeting. It’s to avoid things like this from happening because it has happened in the past. These measures aren’t put there for fun; they’re implemented so that every one of your men gets to go home to their families at the end of the day.

And three of them almost didn’t. Lawyers have been dispatched to deal with the families regarding the situation but you can’t help but feel it was avoidable. Hank had been with you for five years with no problems but lately his head has been out of the game. You’re not privy to his personal lives, literally not your concern, but the one thing you ask of your employees is that they don’t bring home matters to work. If Hank had been going through some tough shit outside of work, then he never communicated it. You’re not a monster; you would’ve taken him off of work without him losing his job or income if he had needed time to sort things out first.

You sigh and hear your secretary's voice in your ear about being an old woman. You roll your eyes to the ceiling. Your phone pings and you check the message.

Jimin: The families have signed the NDAs. It’s on your desk.

PING!

Jimin: Stop staring at the ceiling and sleep.

What the fuck?! Does he have a spy camera or something? You sit up in bed, paranoid, looking around the room.

PING!

Jimin: No, there’s no camera. I just know you too well (rolling eyes emoji)

You slap the phone face down on the bedside table after putting it on silent mode and pull the duvet back over your head. Nothing’s more frustrating than someone who is always right and knows it, too. One of these days you’ll find a nicer more submissive PA but you doubt it. He’s too damn good at his job for you to find any good reason to get rid of him.

BUZZ!

You groan out loud but grab the phone anyway.

Jimin: I had a food delivery schedule for around 7PM. I don’t think cooking will be on your to-do list today.

Too damn good, you think with a snort, putting away the phone for the last time because by hook or by crook, you’ll force that nap to come. Fifteen minutes later, after much tossing and turning, sleep still eludes you like a fish flitting through water. You’re still somehow high-strung, your brain refusing to forget today’s botched deal as it replays each scene for you to do a play-by-play; from the moment you notice the shiftiness of the Ryuukai’s men, the fact that you don’t recognise any of them, right down to the last moment of the shoot-out, you running, gunshots ringing in your ears until you’re safely in the car and Hank slammed the door behind you.

Then you remember something; your little emergency stash under the bed made especially for times like this. You crawl over to the edge, lean halfway off the bed and rummage around under there trying to pull out the little box. It feels a little childish to be hiding stuff in that old tin box, something you’ve had with you for a very long time, even now when you’re one of the most powerful figures of the underworld living in one of the luxurious penthouses in the middle of the city.

You pry open the lid and sift through the stuff in there. If anyone found that box, one would think it belongs to a teenage girl by the content: an old bookmark handmade from a laminated maple leaf, 16th and 21st birthday cards from old friends and families, a beaded bracelet, a few foreign coins, a few loose buttons, a few Polaroid photos faded with time. You ignore all the rest and pull out from the bottom an old and very well-used folded up poster. You put everything away and lay back on your pillow, carefully unfolding the piece of A3 paper.

Immediately you can feel the tension slip off of your shoulders at the sight of your favourite man in the world: Hoya, in all of his glorious nakedness besides the silver necklaces around his neck, the black masquerade mask that hides half of his face, and the little detective hat that he’s tipping over with that petulant smirk on his handsome face that screams, “Bet you wish you can have me, don’t you?”

Yes, yes I do, you think, this time with a wistful sigh, your eyes roaming his body, imagining you can put your hands all over those biceps and rock-hard abs and kiss that Celtic hope tattoo on his chest, suck on his fingers and suckle on his nipples before…your eyes move downwards, saving that view for last even if you’ve seen it a thousand times. It works every time like a charm.

You lie back onto your pillow, the poster in hand. This is from one of his earlier issues from a few years back and by far your favourite, thus why it’s stored in your mental emergency box. You know a few things about this man; his age (three years younger than you), his favourite food (Korean), his favourite alcohol (soju and he drinks it only once a week), his favourite book (Living, Loving, Learning), his favourite song (it changes every three months), what he wanted to be as a child, what he wants now as an adult, his preferred type of woman (demure, sweet and kind but loves it spicy in the bedroom), and his hobby.

You know his favourite position in bed, his kinks (D&M, bondage), his favourite subject in school (maths, surprisingly) and even the name of his first pet (Mickey). You know why he has that scar on his left eyebrow (at a judo tournament in high school when the opponent split his head but he won the competition anyway), the neighbourhood he grew up in and that he has an older sister who he’s close with. You know that he visits his parents every other weekend to have dinner with them because he prioritises family time. You know that he hates sleeping in the dark because of that one time a friend played a prank by locking him up in the closet and forgot about him, so he sleeps with a nightlight the shape of a crescent moon. You also know his birth zodiac but that he doesn’t believe in fate.

You know all this information about this man that graces the monthly adult magazine you subscribe to since university and yet you don’t know his real name nor what he actually looks like. All of his posters and photos were masked. Someone in your position could easily have attained his real name at least but you decide not to. The mystery of it all kind of enhances his charm, you think, but fuck, if only you could, at least once in your life, to be able to wrap your mouth around that perfect cock of his.

“You think you deserve this, baby?” the Hoya in your head asks as he looms over you, one hand leaning against the headboard above your head. He swings his hips close to your face, teasing you with his giant cock inches from your lips.

“Yesss,” you mewl back, batting your eyelashes prettily for him. “Please.”

“Please what, sugar?”

You writhe under your blanket, your fingers quickly finding the wet spot in between your legs, eyes closed as you imagine the scene. “Please, daddy. I want it.”

And in your fantasies, Hoya always does. He always satisfies you, prioritising your needs as he winds you up and up and up and letting you come crashing down on your highs. He teases and taunts you, worships you like the goddess that you are and you’d scream his name over and over again as he rams into you until you’re all spent and blissful and he’d love you up more softly this time, rocking you both gently until he comes. Those scenes were enough ammo for your fingers to work furiously underneath the thick duvet, arching your back against your pillow, murmuring words you pretend the adult model can hear until you come, toes curling and sighing out his stage name.

Then the guilt comes creeping in and you jump out of bed to clean yourself, chastising yourself that it’s just distasteful for someone like you to get so lost in your own head when your team was almost annihilated today. You bury yourself back in bed and this time, sleep comes much easier.

***

“So…about the new head of security…”

Jimin follows you into your office and watches you straighten out your desk before you finally look up at him. “I don’t think we’ll find anyone in two weeks. I’m serious about postponing it because at this rate we’ll-”

“No.” You cut him short, plopping down into your seat and powering on the iMac. “The meeting with the Sumiyoshi is too important, Jimin, you know this. I can’t risk losing another business because we are not dealing with the Ryuukais anymore after last night.”

Jimin clicks his fingers. “Oh, right! I’ve sent a team as you requested to their headquarters. You’ll hear about it at around…” he checks his watch casually, “noon, perhaps.”

You nod but the look on your face was clear to Jimin that you barely listened, clicking away on your computer, eyebrows furrowing. Jimin sighs. “Hey, look at me.”

You stop what you were doing and shift your gaze to him without turning your head. He scowls but says, “I’m serious about recruiting a head of security this willy-nilly. We’re talking about the head here, not some disposable goons. He’ll be responsible for your safety. You know, keeping you alive in situations similar to last night?”

You roll your eyes, throwing your head back. “Get to the point, Jimin.”

“I refuse to hire just anyone,” he says with a serious look on his face. “I won’t do it and risk you getting shot dead. It took us months to hire and train Hank and you want me to find someone to fill the role in two weeks? That’s not just crazy; that’s stupid.”

You grit your teeth, fingers flexing and unflexing. Anyone else who would speak to you like that would not still be standing as sturdily as Jimin is in that moment, holding his own almost like he’s the boss reprimanding you. But to your credit, you sit there in silence; one of Jimin’s many skills is to make you listen and you trust him enough to do so without protest.

“Fine, then,” you concede, although your tone of voice is still very forceful. “We’ll hire a temporary one, then, if that makes you feel better. Someone good enough for the meeting in two weeks. Someone who won’t need much training but has enough experience to handle something like that.”

“Something like what? A meeting between two underground groups to exchange illegal material for cases of cash?” Jimin writes something in his notebook, arching an eyebrow as he speaks. “Noted. I have doubts but I’ll keep my eyes peeled and in the meantime find someone long term.”

He gives you a condescending smirk and waltzes right out. Just as you thought you were finished dealing with him, he pops his head back in. “Gang things may not sound appealing. Shall I fish them with a higher salary?”

“Do whatever you need to, Jimin,” you reply impatiently, waving your hand at him. “Just go away.”

“Neatto,” he chimes, disappearing again.

Around noon, as Jimin predicted, the front page of most major online newspapers are covering the same story: “Mass murder, arson; the dragon has fallen”. Fancy news title to report on the demise of a mafia group but it is what it is. The shootout at the parking garage, however, wasn’t even mentioned anywhere. You don’t even bother reading the rest of it, clicking away to focus on other more important things, like the arrival of the goods for the Sumiyoshi next week. Customs a bitch to deal with but you have your strings to pull.

You don’t hear from Jimin the rest of the day and that’s fine. It means that work is progressing smoothly and your only hope is for him to find candidates for the open position. You consider rehiring Hank but that would bruise your ego so you squash the idea. For now. If the Ryuukais were bad, the Sumiyoshi would be even worse and a head of security would give the peace of mind you’d need and also a sort of deterrent as well for any fuckery they planned.

You can’t trust those men and the moment they think they see an opening, they’d take it. They can’t stand having to bow to a woman but you rule the diamond business in this part of the world and they have no other reasonable choices. You are known to be fair and trustworthy, an empire you took years to build, carving in your name after you took over from your grandfather. You’re more of a businesswoman than a gang leader but taking over the business meant you had to take over every aspect of it; the good, the bad and the shady illegal shit that you only discovered after signing the handover agreement.

You rub your eyes with your fingertips. You rarely feel sorry for yourself. Why should you? You live in a luxurious apartment that has 24-hour heavy security, you have a driver most times, your status gives you a free pass almost always, money is just a means of transaction that you’ve never hesitated to blow off if you needed to, and power over all the right people. Your business is as clean as you can keep it, you don’t have blood on your hands. Some deals are a little under the table, yes, but nowhere near the same category as the groups and gangs you deal with. You are, technically, legitimate. So why do you feel so shackled?

People your age are married with kids these days, happy as they lived their lives like any normal person would. See, you want kids. Someday. But your life doesn’t have any space for even a lover. They are a hindrance, a bargaining chip that can easily be used against you. And they’re rarely ever loyal, not when to die for love’ could be literal in your world. No one actually means it when they say it.

Then, like always when you think about the topic, Hoya’s face floats in front of your eyes; that cheeky glint in his eyes behind the mask, the parted lips with his tongue just slightly sticking out, enough for you to imagine things with it and the long, slender fingers that you’ve fantasise about doing more than just sticking them in your mouth. You shake your head to clear away the dirty thoughts creeping in. No, I’m at work! You slap your cheeks a few times and return back to the computer screen.

It’s not until the end of the week when Jimin informs you, with an unamused look on his face, that so far there were only three applicants and one of them is totally a reject because the guy is fresh out of college looking for a lucrative part time job before he leaves for Australia.

“So that leaves us with two,” Jimin is saying, the iPad completely hiding his face from where you sit. “I’ve talked to them both. One has a military background. A captain in Iraq. Came back and currently working as a mall night security guard. Has PTSD so can’t commit to a nine to five. Looks promising but he has teenage kids and a dead wife.”

“And the other one?”

Jimin shakes his head. “I don’t really like this one.”

“Why not?” You frown, curious.

Jimin sighs. “Well, for one, the only good thing going for him is that he has multiple martial arts skills - judo, taekwondo, karate. This guy needs a new hobby.”

“So what’s wrong about him? Those are useful in this industry,” you say, sitting back in your chair and swinging it from side to side.

“What’s wrong about him is that he’s in his mid-twenties but no full time job to account for,” Jimin answers as he scrolls through the man’s resume. “He graduated in economics, worked part time at a bar for a few months and then nothing. Said he does small freelance gigs here and there but won’t say what. I don’t like him.”

You laugh. “Pretty sure you can run a background check on him easily.”

“I know but it’s suspicious. I don’t like someone who I can’t read,” Jimin retorts. “I say go with the vet and then after the meeting we’ll reassess if we’d want to keep him. I’ll keep the job posting up in case we’d get better candidates.”

You mull over the information Jimin has provided you. The military vet does seem to be the obvious choice; he has experience and skills a head security needs but the fact that he’s the only thing standing in between whether his kids will grow up with one parent or end up in foster care makes everything a tad bit harder. That, or the fact that his kids could also be used as leverage by the enemies. Not a pretty thought but, again, it has happened.

On the other hand, Jimin is correct about the martial arts guy. A person who has something to hide could be detrimental to you and the company. He has a good education but no job worth of note. Now, in the normal world, it would be understandable that not everyone is lucky enough but in your life, it’s a red flag. Your enemies are always finding ways to get close to you and you can’t risk being negligent now.

But you’re running out of time.

You nod your head and turn to your secretary. “Alright, then. Give it to the vet. Have him report in on Monday morning.”

Jimin beams. “Consider it done.”

On Monday morning, you walk into the office and are met with a sour-faced Jimin talking heatedly on the phone in the corner of the pantry area. When he sees you, he ends the call and strides over. “He’s not coming,” he huffs.

“Who’s not coming?”

“The vet guy,” he explains bitterly. “Apparently his friend got him a job on the weekend and he felt better to go with the other option.”

“And you told him off on the phone?” You arched an eyebrow at him, incredulous.

Jimin looks confused. “What? No, that wasn’t him. That was the recruiter.” He rolls his eyes and you have the urge to call him an old man but don’t. “Anyway,” he sighs, “I’ve asked the other candidate to come in at ten for a “final” interview.” Jimin makes air quotes with his fingers. “Figured we can talk to him and then see how it goes.”

You stare at the clock. “That’s in thirty minutes.”

Jimin curses, checking his watch. “Fuck!”

“Are you okay? You seem out of sorts today,” you ask, walking over to the coffee machine.

“Are you serious right now?”

You look at him, the coffee machine whirring in the background. “What?”

“Didn’t you see the email I sent you last night?”

“No. Why?”

Jimin looks a little pale. “It’s on your desk,” he says dryly, raising his phone to his ears. “I’ll just go and make sure the guy comes in today.” He walks out of the pantry talking on the phone, his voice harsh and cold to whoever he’s speaking to. You carry your coffee mug into your office and make a straight beeline to the single sheet of paper placed in the middle of it. You pick it up and read through Jimin’s cursive handwriting.

“Sonofabitch!”

***

Jung Hoseok walks into the huge office feeling only slightly intimidated by the large windows and the fact that he was literally three hundred metres above ground. He involuntarily shivers.

“Hi,” he says as he approaches the man dressed in a three-piece suit. The man looks up and smiles and Hoseok is immediately taken aback by how pretty he looks. He clears his throat and continues, “I’m here for the interview.”

“Jung Hoseok?” Jimin asks, though already knowing the answer. He looks the tall man up and down, dressed in a full suit minus a tie; a little odd considering this is an interview.

Hoseok nods. He notices the other man staring at his bare collar and consciously tug at it. “I forgot it. Hope it won’t affect the interview,” Hoseok mumbles, not meaning any word of it. He hates ties, plain and simple.

Jimin stands up and offers his hand. “No worries. We’re not that conventional. I’m Park Jimin, the secretary.” He notices how Hoseok’s eyes grow infinitesimally wider at that but continues, “Please have a seat while I let the boss know you’re here. Thank you for coming on such short notice.”

“No problem. I was in the neighbourhood,” Hoseok replies as he follows Jimin to a lounge chair outside a set of oak double doors. Another lie. He just needed the job and would think about the multiple traffic rules he broke on the way over later. Hoseok watches as the secretary disappears behind the double doors as he sits down. He strains his ear to hear beyond it but no sound comes through.

Hoseok takes this time to compose his thoughts, running through his head the things that he thinks would be good to say. A temporary head of security position and with his lack of experience, he’s very surprised (and very suspicious) that he even got a callback, never mind a final face-to-face interview directly with the boss. Judging by the place and the very vague ad, he has an idea what sort of man he’d have to keep safe; old, filthy rich with probably illegal money, and most possibly a narcissist. All the top dogs are usually one, especially when their office is this fucking high up in the sky. Why can’t it be something more grounded, for fuck’s sake?

Never mind, he just needs the money. All he has to do is smile and agree to everything the old geezer says and tells him to do. It’s temporary anyway. No biggie.

The oak door opens and Jimin steps out. He gestures to the door. “The boss is ready for you. Go on in.”

Hoseok stands up and takes a few deep breaths. Jimin eyes him, not even hiding the fact that he’s watching the taller man with as much interest as a lion has its prey. The small smile on the secretary’s face is starting to grate Hoseok the wrong way but he straightens himself up and walks past him and into the room without another look.

Jimin waltzes back to his desk, whistling. “Whew, I do sure hope he aces the interview,” he whispers to himself.

Inside, Hoseok is looking around the massive room. Everything about it screams old, rich man smoking cigars his whole life; the dark mahogany desk, the shelves of thick books on economics, world history, business, diamonds and a few others that looked to be in Italian and Japanese, the bare mantelpiece with a couple of plagues to certify that the business is legit. No ashtray, though. The office has a warm brown tone, calming but, again, confirms his earlier assumptions. On the bright side, it also means that the money promised on the ad is something he can expect if he gets the job, an amount that would definitely give him the life that he so desperately wants.

The office is empty and it takes him a while to register the water running in a connecting restroom. He stands in front of the desk, hands clasped in front of him, and waits patiently. He has to give a good impression. This job will be his one ticket to freedom.

The restroom door opens and he turns around, expecting an elderly man with an extended stomach to waddle out. At the sight of you, in a light grey suit with an open top white blouse underneath, Hoseok stumbles backward, hitting one of the chairs behind him, making it scrape back noisily.

“Sorry for the wait,” you say, walking to the other side of the desk. “I just needed to freshen up. Hectic morning. Please, have a seat.”

Hoseok looks around the room again, waiting for someone else to come in. You watch him, a small sarcastic smile on your lips. “Are you looking for someone?”

Hoseok looks back at you, eyebrows furrowed. “I thought-”

His eyes fall on the nameplate in front of him with the title Chief Executive Officer above your name. He looks at you then down at the nameplate and then back at you. You sit back in your chair, watching, amused. “You thought a woman can’t be the boss?”

There’s no contrition on Hoseok’s face, no embarrassment of sorts for having had that sexist thought right in front of a prospective employer. He just looked genuinely confused and then he shrugs, sitting down. “I just had a different idea initially,” he finally says, unbuttoning his suit jacket and crossing his legs at the knee. Five seconds later, he uncrosses it and sits up straighter.

“You’re not used to this, are you?” you ask, tilting your head, observing him.

Hoseok doesn’t answer, his face remaining passive.

You lean your elbows on the desk, steepling your fingers together. “Tell me, what sort of jobs have you had before,” you glance at the resume in front of you, “Jung Hoseok?”

“Different things,” he says casually. “A little bit of this and that.”

You eye him. A small part of you is annoyed by his rudeness but a bigger part of you is actually curious, dying to know what a handsome man like him does for a living that he’s not comfortable in this formal setting. You notice his slender, pretty fingers lightly drumming against his knee while the other hand rests against his cheek, looking at you like he’s the one conducting the interview instead. It’s somewhat angering and yet oddly amusing, like you wanted to see more of this devil-may-care behaviour of his.

“I need specifics, Mr Jung,” you say. “I can’t hire someone I don’t know anything about and your resume,” you lift it up, “is pretty much empty. I don’t know what impression you got of our company but I can assure you I have high standards.”

He looks pointedly at you. “Then why did you request me to come in?”

You blink at him, dumbfounded. “Well, touché,” you laugh lightly, sitting back again. “To be honest, I was attracted by your martial art skills and I’m impressed. I think it will be useful for this position.”

Hoseok slides lower in his seat and spreads his legs in the typical way a man sits. He leans an elbow against the arm of the chair, resting his head lightly on three fingers. Suddenly, you lost your train of thoughts. Something about the way he sits, down to the tapping forefinger against the side of his temple, seems familiar. The set jaws, the serious lips and the tinge of iciness in his eyes; all seem to be ringing a bell in the back of your mind. Especially the eyes. Where have you seen it before?

“If it’s only the martial arts, then you won’t need to know my work history,” he says, his tone of voice cool and even with a touch of airiness that makes you think you’re beneath him. “But if you must know, I work part time as a judo instructor at a gym near my place.”

You glance at the piece of paper in your hand. It’s the only information available there and it doesn’t answer your question. You glare at him but he continues to speak. “Other than that I just do a bit of odd jobs here and there. I didn’t think it would be relevant nor make a good impression so I just left them out.”

“What kind of odd jobs?” you push, narrowing your eyes.

He returns your look coolly and takes five whole seconds before answering. “A bit of bartending, a bit of labour work. Different things like that.”

Outside, Jimin is pouring over the short email he had just received. The background check on Jung Hoseok doesn’t yield much information either, only that he was recruited into a hospitality agency and currently still is an employee there. Jimin Googled the agency but all that comes out is that it’s an outsourcing company, supplying workers to a variety of clients ranging from construction companies to restaurants and bars. He guesses the man wasn’t lying after all. He calls up the agency and speaks to an admin, taking out his pen to jot down in his trusty notebook.

In the office, you check Hoseok’s resume again. “It says here you went to college and graduated with a degree in economics. You’ve been part-timing since then?”

*Yes,” he answers curtly.

“Is there any particular reason for that?”

“The economy is shit these days,” he mutters out. “Look,” he sits up straighter, getting honestly tired of this whole thing, “I’m not here to bullshit with you. I need the money. If you think my martial arts skill will be good for the position, then hire me. If not, let me know so I can get to the next interview.”

You sit there, mouth agape at his audacity. “You’re the one who needs the job, you know,” you retort back, getting angry. “Would it kill you to at least pretend to be nice?”

Hoseok sighs, scratching the side of his head. “Would that make it easier for you?”

“Yes!” You give him an incredulous look but also surprised at yourself for actually answering him. What the hell is wrong with him? “What’s your problem, man?”

Now it’s his turn to look a little shocked, raising his eyebrows at you. Collecting himself, he stands up. “Look, this is a temporary position, right? Just until the end of this week? I’ll lay it out for you: I’m good at kicking ass and I know how to handle a firearm.”

“You do?”

“Yes. I served in the military for eighteen months.”

You scan the resume again. “Then why the hell didn’t you put it here?”

He rolls his eyes. “Because I’m Korean and it’s just a mandatory requirement. It wouldn’t have mattered here.”

“What? Of course it matters! Especially in the job position you’re applying for!” You’re standing up, too, absolutely frustrated with him. “Why did you even bother coming in if this is the attitude you’re giving?”

“Because I needed the job,” he shrugs, answering.

“That’s a rhetorical question!”

He frowns at you as if you’re the one not making any sense. He puts a fist against his hip, looking like he’s ready to walk out the door, and asks, “Do you want me or not?”

Un-fucking-believable. Never in your life have you ever met someone so audacious, so frustrating, so full of himself, and you deal with drug lords and gang leaders and mafias and all sorts of the lowest of lows and yet here you are, amazed by this one man’s ability to rile you up. None of those groups of people that you do business with, shady or not, have ever spoken to you the way he did, with no regards of the consequences whatsoever, and they rule the underworld with iron fists. Even they have respect for you!

Hoseok watches you fluster, your face turning red, your eyes glazing over with what looks like tears, your fists clenching and unclenching as your mouth works to form words. Watching you like that, something tweaks at his heart and he feels just a tad bit guilty. He sighs and throws his gaze out the huge window overlooking the city.

Hoseok is not one to feel sorry for anybody because he grew up with no one feeling sorry for him. That part of him never wired right so for him to actually feel a little sympathy for you is new and honestly, he’s not all too sure what to do about it. He shifts his gaze back to you. “Does the position mean I have to answer to you?”

You grit your teeth. “Yes.”

“Do I have a say in any decisions?”

You think before answering through a strained voice, “Yes, if it’s pertaining to my safety. You can make the call.”

Hoseok looks around the room as if looking for some hints of what the job might actually entail. He notices the many books on diamonds and rocks but other than that, there’s nothing. “Do I have to kill people?” he asks.

You hesitate, shuffling from one foot to the other. You square your shoulders and answer, “Only if and when it’s necessary.”

Hoseok nods quietly to himself, looking down to the plush carpet under his feet as if he’s weighing the pros and cons of it all. He looks up again and his face is more determined. “Do I have to wear a stupid suit?”

You almost laugh but stifle it, schooling your face to look impassive. “Haven’t you seen bodyguards before?” When he doesn’t answer but just stares back at you unfazed, you add, “Never mind. I do expect some sort of professionalism and cleanliness, though. What you have on now is fine.”

“I’m not going to wear any damn ties,” he snaps and it’s your turn to roll your eyes.

“Whatever. You start tomorrow.”

You call for Jimin to come in with the employment contract and five minutes later, Jung Hoseok is signing the papers without even looking past the salary offered. He doesn’t even ask about the NDA paperworks nor does he even ask about the one-page loyalty pledge that would have him sign away every right he has over his own life, assets and name should he ever risk, betray, or act insubordinate in any way that could cost your life or the company’s. You and Jimin exchange glances a few times, the regret starting to sink in in the pit of your stomach but you remain quiet throughout the ordeal.

When Hoseok finally left, Jimin stormed straight into your office and raised both arms into the air. “What the fuck was that?”

You’re pinching the bridge of your nose. “No idea. Don’t ask. I feel like I’ve just been bullied into hiring someone and I’m already regretting the decision.”

Jimin narrows his eyes at you. “Well, good thing it’s only temporary because girl, you’re honestly losing it.”

“Did you find anything on him?” you ask through a scowl.

Jimin pouts. “Apart from him being a tall glass of water I would definitely slurp empty, nope. Nada. He’s listed on one of those agencies that outsource workers, that’s about it.”

“Explains the odd jobs,” you mumble. “Find me an actual, qualified person with experience this time, Jimin. We’re getting rid of him after the meeting. Fuck!” You let out a loud frustrated sigh. “I can’t fucking believe they move the meeting to this Friday, fucking bastards.”

*~*

Hoseok comes in pretty early the next day, the same time as Jimin walks out of the elevator and sees him in the pantry, a cup of iced coffee in one hand, scowling at something in the direction of the window.

“Morning,” chirps Jimin cheerily, joining the new hire. He’s in a dark pair of jeans, Chelsea boots, and a dark crisp shirt under his unbuttoned suit jacket. Jimin can clearly see the top of Hoseok’s chest by how many buttons he disregarded; not professional but not something Jimin is going to complain about, especially when he can sneak a peek at the hint of a tattoo there on the left side.

Hoseok doesn’t respond to Jimin but only mildly nods his way. He finally turns away from the window but his eyebrows are still furrowed. “When does she usually come in?”

Jimin glances at the clock. “Around this time. She’ll be here soon and it’s My Lady to you, newbie.”

“You call her that?” Hoseok asks, stirring his coffee with his straw.

Jimin snorts. “The others do. I don’t but we have a long history. You, on the other hand, should know your place.”

“Who should know whose place?” you ask, walking into the pantry.

Jimin hands you your steaming cup of coffee and walks out, saying from over his shoulder, “Ask the newbie.”

You raise your eyebrows at Hoseok but the man just shrugs and walks out after the secretary, leaving you standing there completely clueless. Honestly, you might as well just do a whole reorg because what the hell is with this attitude? You’re their boss!

***

Hoseok spent his first day in hours of briefing with you, Jimin and another person simply referred to as ‘The Coordinator’, who talked mostly about the people or businesses they deal with and honestly, Hoseok barely listened.

Once the one-day onboarding process was finished, the only thing Hoseok fully understood was the reason why the salary was so high it was ridiculous. And also why you needed a head of security. He’s basically a personal bodyguard that has his own team of seven to direct and manage. His one and only job is to stick close to you like gum and make sure you remain alive for the length of his contract period, which isn’t all that long considering he’s mainly hired for the big meeting on Friday, three days away. Easy.

Now, Hoseok might not have listened to any of the lectures he was subjected to but he had been highly attuned to you, reading your body language and facial expression, mainly because he was curious as to why a woman like you is in a business like this. Whatever this big meeting is on Friday, it’s so important to you that you barely sat still. He understood the desperation of hiring him for only four days in total just by the way you chew on your lips and shake your knees as Jimin and the The Coordinator explained to him all about what’s supposed to go down with this big, bad group called, the Sumiyoshi.

At the end of the day, while Hoseok retreats to the restroom, you and Jimin convene together to talk about, well, about him.

“I still don’t like him but hot damn he’s a whole meal,” Jimin says as he leans closer to your face to make sure no other ears are listening. “I say we just keep him on as a pseudo bodyguard after the meeting. I’d appreciate eye candy at the office.”

You nudge him with your elbow hard enough he tilts sideways. “First of all, that’ll be sexual harassment of lusting over your coworker. Second of all, I completely agree with you. Although…”

Jimin raises an eyebrow. “Although what?”

“I don’t know,” you say, shaking your head. “Just feel like I’ve seen him from somewhere before. There’s something about those eyes.”

Jimin snorts. “You mean those mean looking eyes that could undress you with one look?”

You swat at his arm and Jimin laughs. “Admit it. You feel it, too. Like he’s judging everybody.” He exaggerates a shiver and then one look at your crimson cheeks he gasps. “Wait a minute, I didn’t mean that kind of undressing, you dirty girl!”

Hoseok walks in with a glum look on his face and frowns at the two of you laughing together. For some reason, it irks him to see Jimin’s hand casually over yours and you leaning into his side. You both straighten up at the sight of him.

“What happened?” you ask, spotting his wet shirt.

“The sink attacked me,” he replies solemnly, heading over to grab some paper towels from the pantry. You and Jimin look at each other before you follow Hoseok out and Jimin goes back to his desk.

“I’m doubting your ability to fill this position,” you say as you walk into the pantry to Hoseok’s futile attempts at dabbing at his shirt.

“Why’s that?” he asks, nonchalant, not even looking up.

“Well,” you start, standing in front of him and removing his hands to see the damage, “you can’t even handle a sink, so…” you give him a wry smile before gesturing to a closet in the corner. “There’s some extra shirts in there. There should be something that could fit you.”

Hoseok walks over to the closet. “You guys have a shirt closet at the office?”

You shrug. “For emergencies,” you answer, thinking about all the times your men came back from an awry meeting having to get rid of their blood-soaked clothes or to not smell of gunsmoke before going home to their families. Most of those times, that shirt closet saved them from a lot of headaches to deal with, especially your team of lawyers.

To your surprise, Hoseok takes off his shirt on the spot, his broad shoulders in full display. “What the hell? You could have gone into the restroom, for fuck’s sake!” you cry out, going over to the pantry door and shutting it.

Hoseok turns around while still unbuttoning the fresh shirt. What’s even more surprising than him stripping half naked in the pantry is the fact that there’s a playful, sarcastic smile on his lips as he looks at you. “You’ve never seen a man’s torso before, My Lady?”

The way he calls you My Lady was in no way respectful. It was teasing, taunting, arrogant. You cross your arms over your chest, standing a little bit taller. “As a matter of fact, I have. And I’m speaking for the rest of the office. No one wants to see you half naked, Jung Hoseok.” But that’s a complete lie. You can count at least two people who would want to, Jimin being the other person.

You can’t help but stare at the very visible abs, the bellybutton peeking just above the belt around his waist, the wide chest, the tattoo on- wait a second. Your eyes zone in on the tattoo symbol on the left side of his chest and your heart starts racing. Hoseok notices where you’re looking and he hurries to pull the shirt over his head instead, turning away towards the huge window to finish buttoning up everything except for the last ones around the collar.

“That tattoo,” he hears you mutter from behind him.

He finally turns back around, feigning nonchalance once again and picks up his own wet shirt from the floor. “What about it?”

You stare at him, not knowing what to say. If you tell him you recognise it, then you’d have to explain where you’ve seen it before and your employee doesn't need to know what kind of magazines you subscribe to. But those eyes, it’s starting to dawn on you why they’re so familiar, having looked at them almost every night before sleep. And it’s not just those eyes that you’ve been looking at, too. Holy fucking shit.

What did you tell Jimin earlier? That it’s sexual harassment to lust over a coworker? You can feel your whole face on fire as you whirl on your heels and walk off, marching past Jimin who gives you a weird look, before slamming your office door behind you.

You lean against the door, heaving. What in the actual fuck? Jung Hoseok is Hoya?!

*~*

You are acting weird, Jimin thinks.

The rest of that Tuesday, you shut yourself in your office and only came out at the end of the day, not a word to anybody, not even Jimin himself. You zoomed past him and quickly left, leaving Hoseok standing there, looking at him as he had all the answers regarding you because Hoseok was supposed to escort you home. That was part of his job scopes. Well, Jimin didn’t have any answers that day and he dismissed Hoseok for the day.

Today, again, you hole up in the office, not even meeting Jimin in the morning in the pantry as usual, only allowing Jimin to come in and out for business purposes only. Jimin chalks it up to you being under stress. The package delivery is on its way and it’s a very high risk time window; anything could go wrong in between the cargo being loaded up into the plane and for it to arrive into your hands. But something else isn’t adding up: you refuse to even acknowledge Hoseok, your head of security, and requested that any communication between them go through Jimin. A pain in the ass because he has other things to deal with but he kept his mouth shut the whole morning.

You, on the other hand, are a complete mess. The package delivery be damned, your whole integrity is about to implode and you have high suspicions that Hoseok knows that you know because you’ve made a fool of yourself by making it obvious. The good thing is, he hasn’t come outright to ask you about it.

Why the hell didn’t that info come up on the background check? Did Jimin fuck up? Or was Hoseok just that good at hiding his side gig? I mean, he does go by a stage name and not listing that job only meant he had wanted to keep things separate but oh my god, how do you keep things separate when the person you’ve been masturbating to is the person on your payroll?! That’s completely unethical! It makes you such a hypocrite, too, if you confide in Jimin about this whole thing and you rather keep to yourself than be laughed at for the rest of your life.

That’s it. That’s what you’ll do. Just keep it to yourself the same way Hoseok is keeping that part of his life a secret. Pretend that everything is fine and dandy. You can do that. You slump in your seat and bury your face in your hands, groaning inwardly. And just like that, an image of your favourite Hoya poster pops in front of your eyes, cock and all, and you scream and stand up.

Jimin opens the door, eyebrows furrowed so deeply they almost merged. “What’s wrong? Did something happen to the delivery?”

The door is pushed open wider and Hoseok peers from behind Jimin’s shoulder, curious, hands in his pockets. Suddenly, his top disappears from your mind and all you can see is the smooth skin of his body and that hope tattoo on his chest. You can even pick out the veins running along his neck, picturing yourself tracing kisses down it, going further south-

“Earth to y/n!” Jimin calls out, coming over to the desk to look at you more closely. The door swings open wider and Hoseok steps in, leaning against the wall of the office, crossing his legs by the ankle. “What is going on with you?”

“Nothing,” you squeak out finally. Clearing your throat, you try again. “Nothing. I’m just- just stressed out. The usual. You know how these times are for me.” You pretend to shuffle around some papers on your desk and Jimin only narrows his eyes.

“The delivery is going as planned,” Hoseok says coolly, his voice even. “My team is monitoring it closely. There shouldn’t be any worry. My Lady.”

You don’t look at him, looking at the spot on the wall next to his head instead and nod. “Right. Good, good.” You swallow, noticing, or probably imagining that strange tone he used to call you ‘my lady’. Most of your men call you that, it’s nothing new, nothing strange. But him? Why does it bother you so much? Maybe because you’ve seen him fucking naked.

“I’m going out to lunch,” you announce, gathering your things.

“Really?” Jimin arches an eyebrow, genuinely perplexed by your behaviour and bordering on worry. “Is it safe to be out and about now? Delivery time is a sensitive one, you usually lay low. I can have your lunch delivered. What would you like?”

“No, no. I need to get some fresh air,” you retort, picking up your bag and rushing for the exit, taking the emergency stairs instead of waiting for the elevator.

Jimin and Hoseok glance at each other. Hoseok pushes off the wall and heads out. “I’ll take care of it,” he says without turning around.

Jimin follows him out to the elevator, still wondering about you. “Bring her back in one piece, Jung.”

The elevator arrives and Hoseok steps in. He gives Jimin a blase two-finger salute before the doors close. As Jimin is about to go back, he notices another odd thing: Hoseok is not going all the way down but only to the level five floors below. Jimin snorts. He guesses the newbie is pretty reliable after all.

You only go as far as five floors down when you start to get breathless and your thighs ache and storming down the stairs in heels isn’t the best of ideas. You pause, leaning against the handrail for support when the emergency door behind you opens and Hoseok leans against one arm to prop it open. “Get out. We’re taking the elevator,” he orders, gesturing with his head. “Hurry before it leaves.”

You want to say no but the thought of going all the way down via the stairs when you’re this high up isn't appealing, crazy almost, so you oblige. In the elevator, both of you remain quiet. It’s a long ride down and it’s the most uncomfortable elevator moment you’ve ever had, cancelling out that one time you were stuck with the Italian mafia right-hand man who was obviously flirting in a language you couldn’t grasp but that you couldn’t say no outright because the deal hasn’t been made yet. And why is it so hot in here?

Finally they arrive and Hoseok pushes past you to lead the way to the waiting car, speaking through his in-ear walkie-talkie. Up in the office, you’ve only ever seen casual Hoseok, nonchalant and calm and looking like he doesn’t have a care in the world. But down here, where you’re exposed and Hoseok is in his security mode, he’s a complete one-eighty. His eyes are sharp and narrowed, his jaws set and his pace are brisk. He seems to take the role seriously, for someone hired for four days.

And he’s tall. Very tall, taller than you realise. You knew his height, have memorised the numbers in your head because it's basic information of your fantasy lover, but actually seeing it firsthand and being able to compare yourself to him (you barely come up to his shoulders), is different. You shake your head, clearing your thoughts. Focus, you tell yourself. I’m his motherfucking boss.

Throughout lunch and all the way back to the office, you had hoped that he would bring it up, the fact that he’s Hoya, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t even ask you if you knew. He doesn’t speak more than he has to, only replying in curt replies, eyes always looking out and around. He seems to be very aware of his surroundings and you suddenly notice the bulge on his waist side; the company-issued firearm.

“It’s good that you’re taking the job seriously,” you say as you both ride the elevator up to the office, stomachs full and you feeling less out of control.

He gives you a dirty look as if you had offended him. “Of course I am.”

After a few minutes of silence, he adds, “I don’t know what kind of person you take me for, but I take my jobs seriously. You get what you pay for.”

You pull a face, confident you’re out of view standing slightly behind him. “Well, thank you for your service,” you remark, intending to sound sarcastic but Hoseok only shrugs, clearly seeing the face you make through the reflective surface of the elevator door.

Just then, Hoseok receives a message through his walkie-talkie that the package has arrived and passed immigration. He relays the message to you, who slump your shoulders as if the information weighs heavily on them. You lean against the back of the elevator, your face hardening, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Almost there,” he hears you mumble. Again, Hoseok feels the same pang of sympathy he had when they first met. He has so many questions to ask you, mainly how you got involved in this side of business but mostly he’s trying to tell himself not to care. The job is temporary and after Friday, he’ll walk out of this office with enough money to do what he had always dreamt of doing. Easy. Cut and dry. So why does the thought of never returning give him a heavy feeling in his chest?

Hoseok takes another look at you through the reflection. You’re leaning against the back wall, eyes staring at a spot somewhere on the carpet floor of the elevator. You’re thinking of something as your forehead creases over and you start biting on your bottom lip. A sudden urge fills him to whip around and pin you against the wall and kiss you hard enough your lips will bleed. But then your eyes look up to meet his and immediately you smile.

“I hope you’re ready for what’s to come, Jung Hoseok,” you say softly, pushing off the wall as the elevator pings. Gone was the troubled look on your face, replaced with the confidence of a person who knows a lot of things are depending on her ability to lead well. For a brief moment, Hoseok could clearly see the bodies you had stepped on to get here and he’s not sure if he’s disgusted by it or turned on.

He’ll find out soon enough.

*~*

Friday is finally here.

Hoseok has been away since Tuesday night; doing surveillance, putting tabs on the Sumiyoshi to make sure they’re not planning a surprise, investigating every square feet of the meeting location to make sure that nothing is planted and no sniper will camp on any buildings or high places on a thirty-mile radius, just to be safe. He had a whole manual book on what to do for these things and as much as he cursed every step of the way, Hoseok made sure he did everything right to the T.

After all, his head is on the line, too.

But also, he’s actually physically sick worrying about all the possibilities of what could go wrong. Hoseok isn’t one to show emotions; he hides them all behind a solid poker face, one he has been putting on these past couple of days whenever he has to see you or speak to Jimin. His hunch about you knowing about the magazine has been confirmed but he decided that if the issue should be addressed, it wouldn’t come from him and he bet you wouldn’t talk about it, too, because then you have to explain how you even know. It’s a niche market, a type of magazine you don’t just stumble upon by accident, though it does make him crazy curious if you actually subscribe to it. That would be interesting.

Friday morning, Hoseok rides the elevator up to the office and finds the place empty of the other usual employees. Instead, there’s a small group of men (and one woman) standing around speaking in a hush tone. All the desks are empty and there’s a sullen atmosphere in the air. The group looks up when he enters.

Jimin walks in, dressed in all black, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows. He’s in dark jeans and not the usual three-piece. “Jung, you’re here. Good,” he says. To the group, he introduces Hoseok. “The new and temporary head of security. You can calm down, Vera.”

That’s when Hoseok sees the woman slide back the knife up her sleeves, nodding at him in acknowledgement. Hoseok joins to stand next to Jimin but he looks around once, searching for you. Jimin must have noticed and says, “She’s in her office, meditating. These are the couriers.”

“Where’s the package?” asks Hoseok.

Jimin gestures to your office doors. “In there.” To the one called Vera, he hands over a navy duffel bag. “Everything’s in there. You can count them if you want.”

Vera passes the bag over to the man on her left and he opens the zipper just an inch before nodding and zipping it back up. Vera offers a hand to Jimin. “Always nice doing business with you, Park,” she says in an accent Hoseok can’t quite place. “Although I have to warn you, the day we arrived we were tailed and it took awhile to shake them off. We didn’t get to identify them.”

Jimin’s face clouds over. “And were you tailed today?”

“No,” Vera snaps. “I made sure of that. But I advise you to keep your eyes open.” She looks pointedly at Hoseok.

They left and Hoseok goes off into the pantry to check in with his team via the radio while Jimin knocks on your door. He peeks in. “Ready when you are, boss.”

“And Hoseok?” you finish buttoning up your blouse over the Kevlar vest and turn around to Jimin.

“In the pantry. Checking in with the team,” replies Jimin. “Everything looks good.” Jimin approaches and helps you put on your jacket, subtly running his fingers over the vest to make sure everything is properly secured. “How do you feel today?”

Jimin’s voice is soft, a voice only reserved for times like this, when tomorrow feels unsure and Jimin will be left for hours at his desk for news on which protocol to follow: the Meredith Grey Protocol, to which he will have all the privately-hired doctors at the ready and set up lawyers to arrange NDAs as well as mobilise the clean up crew, or the Genocide Protocol for worst case scenarios. In the long existence of this company, the latter had been activated only once, the day your grandfather died and it wasn’t even by Jimin.

“Like I want to throw up,” you answer, letting Jimin fuss with the coat because you can feel him checking the vest. “I honestly feel the same way I did that time the lawyer came to my place to let me know I was about to carry on my grandfather’s business.”

Jimin chuckles. “I remember that day. We just graduated.”

You don’t respond.

Hoseok opens the door and his eyes narrow at Jimin. “The car’s here. We should get going.”

Jimin steps away, crossing his arms over his chest to hide how much his hands are shaking. “Good to go.”

“I can see the vest from here,” Hoseok states matter-of-factly. “Don’t you have darker-coloured tops?”

“Watch your tone, temp,” Jimin snarls but he goes into the restroom to rummage through the drawers in there. He comes out with a different blouse in hand and passes it over to you. The phone outside rings and Jimin rushes out to get it, forgetting to drag Hoseok out, too. Hoseok checks his watch; they’re running a minute late and yet you haven’t made any move to change. The vest being seen isn’t a big deal but it might convey the fact that you are expecting something to go bad, which communicates no trust towards the group you’re doing business with. Safety has to be done tactfully to ensure future relationships. Business is business.

Hoseok catches your fingers fumbling with the buttons of your blouse and he’s honestly a little irked. Aren’t you supposed to be some powerful mogul in the diamond business?

Getting impatient, Hoseok steps forward and roughly pulls off the coat from your shoulders, drapes it over his arm and deftly undo the buttons of your blouse. It’s not like you’re completely naked under there and you aren’t even objecting, merely standing there letting him do whatever.

“Get it together,” he hisses as he yanks the top from your arms. “ Is this what you want to show to your business partners, that you’re just a scared little girl?”

Your eyes flashes dangerously at him. You push him away much to his surprise and grab the blouse from him, putting it on over your head by undoing only a couple of the top buttons. You take the coat from him and take a deep breath. You round on him, poking a finger into his chest. “Don’t ever talk to me like that again.”

You walk out just as Jimin finishes the call. “Everybody’s on the move,” Jimin reports. If he notices the stormy look on your face, he leaves it for later, as a promise to himself that you will be back. “Good luck out there.”

You nod at him and force a smile. “Hold down the fort for me, will ya?”

Jimin doesn’t answer but watches you leave. As Hoseok is passing him, he pulls on the other man’s arm, making him stop and turn angrily. “You let anything happen to her, your ass is mine.”

Hoseok sneers at Jimin’s threat but takes it as an offence to his job albeit it being about to end at the end of the day, one way or another. “I’ll bring the princess back, don’t you worry your pretty little head,” he jabs back, turning around and walking out after you.

In the car, you are silent the whole ride. Hoseok sits in front, quietly listening to the reports of his team in his ear, noting bits and pieces of information that are important. So far, everything looks according to plan. He’s aware that the Sumiyoshi also have the same type of team keeping tabs on them the same way he is and that’s fine. As long as both parties play their parts well, neither of them will have anything to complain about and they all can go home safe and sound.

But Hoseok can’t quite get rid of this unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach, growing stronger as they get nearer to the meeting place. He tells himself that it’s just nerves but no matter how much he tries, he can’t completely get rid of it. He’s been pestering his team too much now that he can even hear the annoyance in their voices. In the end, he remains in his seat, fist tightly gripping the handle above his head.

The meeting place is an office space on the thirteenth floor of a building downtown. Bright open space with floor to ceiling windows at a three-sixty degree of the room, with other taller buildings surrounding it. The Sumiyoshi, as bad as they are, have a reputation of doing things in broad daylight, aware of the power they hold. Hoseok remains leading the way for you, making sure that you are always behind him at all times and three of his teammates in a circle around you; one on each side of you and one bringing up the rear.

The other four are off site, in a place where they are able to monitor all entrance and exit points as well as having a clear view of the room they are in. Hoseok has all their specific locations noted, casually glancing at the neighbouring buildings even though he can’t see them. The Sumiyoshi are already there; a total of eight of them, big burly men in suits with golden something on either their necks or their wrists or their fingers. There are only five of us, he thinks.

As you take your seat at the big table, Hoseok and his team remain standing behind you. Hoseok stands right next to your shoulder, close enough to touch but further enough for them to know that he’s only a bodyguard. He doesn’t even bother to hide the firearm on his side but the one under his right armpit is starting to feel uncomfortable.

The meeting starts smoothly; a little back and forth about the weather and the economics, a little bit about this really nice restaurant one of the men went to that they think you should really try, and a bit about home life thrown in, asking you if the behaviour of their wives are all normal or if they were all crazy chicks just after the money.

Through all the topics, Hoseok watches you smile politely, laugh softly at all the right places, agree with their views on how shit the economy is now, tell them that the restaurant sounds lovely and force a laugh at wives issues they are having, telling them you’re not married so you’re not sure if you know what normal is in that situation. All pleasantries and just about what they want to hear without involving yourself too much, just vague answers that sound a lot like agreements than you holding back your tongue. Smart, Hoseok thinks, and you do it so with ease; all signs that you really know how to spin these types of guys easily.

But it’s all just surface-level, both you and the eight men know. A little dance everybody does to keep things light before the real thing starts, and the real thing finally starts when the man sitting in the middle clears his throat and adjusts his sitting position. The atmosphere completely shifts and even Hoseok notices it, sucking in a breath and stiffening his spine, listening to his four men in his ear reporting the all clear, nothing suspicious. But his gut is acting up again and he has to clasp his hands together to keep still.

“Now, let’s get down to business, shall we?” the man in the middle speaks, leaning over the table. “Do you have it?”

A part of Hoseok wonders why buying diamonds has to be so shifty like this. They’re just diamonds, you can walk into any jewellery store and get them. He never really thought about it much before but being in this meeting is starting to make him wonder the origin of the diamonds. Why do these men buy diamonds from you? Are they illegal? Why? And why are you involved in this business?

You lean back in your seat, a soft smile on your lips. “Of course I do, Kenji-san. The question is, do you have the payment method ready?”

The man called Kenji breaks into a wide smile and the man next to him brings up a small briefcase and places it on the table in front of him. He taps it. “All in here, sweetheart.”

“You know I hate pet names,” you say sweetly. “But I’ll let it slide this time.” You gesture to Hoseok to get the briefcase but Kenji stops him.

“The merchandise first, sweetheart,” he drawls, his tone losing the pleasantness just seconds ago.

You return his gaze, unmoving, and Hoseok is on high alert, waiting for any signal from you. Your face is completely blank of any emotions but your eyes are calculative, narrowing ever so slightly that Hoseok would probably not have seen it if he hadn’t been keeping his eyes on you. With his hand behind his back, he signals the others to stay alert, something he didn’t actually have to do because unlike him, they are not new.

You stretch out a palm to Hoseok. “Your knife, please, Hoseok.”

The eight men stiffen up, sitting straight in their seats at the mention of a knife. You giggle quietly. “Relax, guys,” you say, taking the knife Hoseok passes over from his ankle strap and pulling open the right side of your coat. With one swift swipe, you make a slit and pull out a small velvet bag. You dangle it in front of you and Hoseok can hear the small stones inside. His heart is starting to beat a little faster.

One of the Sumiyoshi’s men stands up from his seat and Hoseok glares at him. The man looks coolly back at him with a crooked smile. He reaches for the briefcase and takes a few steps forward just as you stand up. Hoseok follows you as you approach the man and he can feel all the hairs on his neck rise up. He has this tingling feeling creeping down his back and everything in his being is telling him to make a break for it, pull you away and out of this building right this second.

You nod for Hoseok to take the briefcase being handed over and he does, palms sweating. Just as the man wraps his beefy hand around the velvet pouch, he lets go of the briefcase and both you and Hoseok step back almost casually, away from the man’s reach. As if a gun couldn’t do what his hands couldn’t, Hoseok thinks darkly, but relief all the same as he literally pulls you by your coat back to your seat.

Hoseok watches as the pouch trades hands to Kenji who unlaces it and tips the content into the palm of his hand and immediately Hoseok understands. The diamonds are raw diamonds, uncut and untraceable, and mostly, very much illegal. Although the price of raw diamonds is cheap, the fact that it’s unregistered gives the owner an infinite capacity to manipulate them. The business isn’t about money at all; it’s about power. The handle of the briefcase burns that much hotter in Hoseok’s hand and he’s confident he won’t find cash inside. It’s too light anyway.

You lean over and take the briefcase from him, setting it on the table. Opening it, you reveal the content inside for Hoseok to see. A single envelope lays in the middle, thin and white, and you take it and pull out the paper inside. Hoseok glances at it. It’s a list of names, none of which Hoseok recognises. You fold the paper into a tiny square before slipping it into the same opened seam from where the diamond was hidden earlier and one pull at a thread, the pocket closes up nicely.

“It’s nice doing business with you, sweetheart,” Kenji says as he puts away the diamonds.

“Likewise,” you reply with a smile, closing the briefcase and sliding it back across the table. “If there’s nothing else, then I better get going.”

“Did you hear about the Ryuukais?”

You pause and raise your eyes to look at Kenji. “Unfortunate, yes.”

“Mhmm.” Kenji places a cigar in between his lips, sits back, cuts the tip and lights it up. He blows out a puff of smoke before saying, “Didn’t you wrap up a deal with them just the night before?”

You don’t respond, training your face to remain calm. There’s a small smile on your lips bordering on acidic, looking nowhere near as sweet as it did earlier. “Yes, I did, actually.”

“How did it go?”

Hoseok watches your jaw ticks before you answer. “We both know I can’t disclose information about the businesses I deal with. It’s confidential.”

Hoseok doesn’t like the way the men are looking at you; eyes leery with a hint of amusement, like they know something Hoseok doesn’t, like they’re shared a joke earlier and are now recalling it in their heads. He steps closer to you. His men outside must have noticed as there’s a flurry of voices in his ear as they check the surrounding areas. They are trained to read body languages and Hoseok’s body language, through the lens of their snipers, is screaming danger.

“From what I heard it didn’t go very well,” he adds, puffing on the thick cigar. “I must say, should we ever come to a disagreement of sorts, would we be next?”

You smile at him but it doesn’t reach your eyes. “I assure you it wasn’t just a disagreement, Kenji-san. As long as we remain cordial and honest, I can see our relationship going beyond into the future.”

Kenji looks at you, blinking lazily as if he’s contemplating on something. At that moment, you remember something; the Ryuukais and the Sumiyoshi are practically brothers. This isn’t going to go well. You had been so focused on the deal that you forgot this little detail and now it makes sense why they moved the meeting up. As much as you had been stressing about the meeting, they had also been eager to see you.

Fuck. How the fuck did you miss this?

Kenji stands up, the cigar in between his fingers. *I don’t know about our relationship going into the future,” he says as softly as if he’s talking about the weather.

Something passes over Hoseok’s eyes that makes him blink and the next thing he knows is looking at the faint red dot in the middle of your chest. He doesn’t even think about it, doesn’t even get to register what he’s doing until it’s done and he’s pinning you to the floor and the window to the side has burst into a million pieces. His men immediately go into cover and retrieve mode; fanning out on your sides, guns blazing, returning bullets with the eight men on the other end, hunkering down and using the table and chairs as shields.

Hoseok doesn’t wait for you to regain your balance, pulling up on your feet and dragging out of the room by the wrist before pulling you under his arm, using his jacket to shield your upper half as you both run across the room. He can hear the shouts of his snipers in his ears, exchanging information about the enemies location and readjusting their positions so they can cover your exit. Hoseok lunges for the emergency stairs and escorts you all the way down. As you both burst out into the lobby, you are met with a group of gunmen, not yours, but the Sumiyoshi’s, with their guns drawn.

Hoseok jumps forward, pushing you behind him and he starts shooting. The sound of guns going on ring in your ears and you see your car pulling up, bullets bouncing off of its bulletproof windows.

“Go, go, go!” Hoseok shouts angrily from over his shoulder and you run like hell, Hoseok close behind you. A bullet zips past you and bounces off the car’s body and you duck. It’s the exact moment when Hoseok comes flying into you, holding his abdomen. “Fuck,” he hisses, sitting up, grimacing, and continuing to shoot to the men now two left.

Panicking, you get the door open and attempt to drag Hoseok in but he’s too preoccupied to cooperate with you. When he realises what you’re trying to do, he pushes off onto his feet and walks backward to enter the car. He manages to half-turn and roughly shoves you in first that you tumble into the backseat. A bullet hits Hoseok on the neck and he screams as he’s flung backward. One final shot of Hoseok’s gun, the last man outside is thrown to the floor and you finally manage to pull the door closed, the car screeching away from the building.

In the silence of the car, with your ears still ringing, you shift to Hoseok, clamping down on the side of his neck, blood seeping from in between his fingers. First, you tore away his suit jacket, remembering that he had been shot in the stomach but there’s no signs of blood, except for the hole in his shirt. Then you see the Kevlar vest and actually sigh with relief. Hoseok groans in pain and you realise he still has a hole in his neck.

“Back to the office! Tell Jimin to have a doctor ready!” you scream at the driver, probably too loudly as you can’t quite hear your own voice, mostly from the panic in your chest, partly from the tinnitus that won’t go away. You help Hoseok clamp down over his hand, praying that they get there in time.

During the whole car ride back to the office, Hoseok’s eyes never left yours and for once since you met him, there was no iciness in them, just pure concern and worry, especially when he reaches over and touches the bleeding scratch on your cheek. “Sorry for that,” he croaks and you swat his hand away.

“Hush,” you chastise him, angry that he had the time to worry about a scratch when he’s bleeding out all over your car.

***

Jimin holds the door open as you help Hoseok into the office, alarmed at the sight of blood all over your hands and Hoseok’s.

“Have you sent in the retrieval team for the others?” you bark at Jimin under the weight of your Head of Security.

“They’re already on the way,” Jimin replies. “The doctor’s inside.” He rushes forward to help open the door to your private office before helping you transfer Hoseok into a chair. Dr. Min Yoongi steps up, gently prying your hand off of the bleeding area so he can take a look at Hoseok. There’s a lot of blood and he gets to work cleaning the wound area so he can see better.

He glances up at you. “I need you to move your ass and sit over there. You’re in the way, sis.”

Begrudgingly, you step back but don’t sit down, watching with eagle eyes as your brother works with a gauge and a pair of forceps to dab away the mess. Jimin turns you around and pats you all over. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.” You shrug him off, focused only on Hoseok, white as a sheet. “Go and make sure the others get back safely.”

Jimin looks reluctant to move but at least he’s made sure you’re fine. Finally, he walks out of the room, closing the door behind him. You go to sit in the chair next to Hoseok, who’s turned the other way to let Yoongi access the wound area. He hisses with every dab and once the place is clear enough, Yoongi releases a sigh.

“What? How bad is it?” you ask, sitting on the edge of your seat.

“It’s just a graze,” Yoongi explains with a scoff. “But it must have hit close to the main artery. I just need to close it off and he’ll be fine.”

Relief washes over you and you feel your limbs go weak. Thankfully, you’re in a chair already and slump backward, throwing your head back. Yoongi watches you carefully as he fixes up the other man, amused at the fact you care this much.

“Still hurts like a motherfucker,” Hoseok groans through gritted teeth.

Yoongi chuckles. “I’ve seen worse wounds. You’ll live.”

“Try and get shot at and let me know if you feel the same,” mumbles Hoseok and Yoongi only laughs. “Stay still, punk,” Yoongi tells him.

It doesn’t take long. Once the wound is patched up, the blood immediately stops and Yoongi administered him a shot for the pain because now that the adrenaline is gone, Hoseok is starting to ache everywhere. The spot where his bulletproof vest had been shot at is starting to bloom a nasty-looking bruise. All the while, you stayed by his side.

When Yoongi finishes and Hoseok has shuffled into your powder room to change into a fresh T-shirt, Yoongi pulls you aside as he packs up. “So, what’s up with the new guy?” At the surprised look on your face, he adds, “Jimin told me while we were waiting.”

“Oh.”

“Well?”

You give him a confused look. “What do you mean?”

“You’re hovering over him,” says Yoongi with an eye-roll. “You never hover, never mind an employee.”

You frown at him. “He almost died protecting me.”

“First, he didn’t. It’s just a graze,” Yoongi corrects, counting on a finger, then adding another. “Second, that’s his job. Plus, I never see you fawn over Hank the same way.”

“I wasn’t fawning!” you retort, scowling as you watch Yoongi stuff his bags. “Was I?”

“Sis,” Yoongi laughs, zipping up his bag and going for the door. “Seriously, figure that out yourself. I’m going to wait outside for words about the others. From the sound of things, it’s not looking good and I might have to call in Jin for help. Wait, you’re not going to hover over the other men, right?”

You pull a face at him. “Get out.”

“You’re very welcome, sis,” he says sarcastically as he leaves.

“What was that about?”

You jump, whirling around to see Hoseok standing there, neck bandaged, touching the gauze gingerly. You approach him, eyeing the bandage to make sure Yoongi did a good job. Of course he did. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” he answers, sitting down. Under the light of your office directly above him, you notice that you can see the hope tattoo through the T-shirt. Hoseok notices you looking at the spot on his chest. To redirect your attention, he asks, “You still have the vest on?”

You look down at yourself. “Oh, yeah.” You start to paw at the velcro of the vest but without taking off your own blouse, you wouldn’t be able to take the Kevlar off and for some reason, you keep struggling with it. Hoseok watches you silently for a few minutes, noting the faraway look in your eyes, the way your lower lip quivers and realises that you’re just coming down from the adrenaline now.

He stands up and walks over to you, as quietly as he can as you continue to struggle. Once he’s standing in front of you, just a foot apart, you finally look up and something squeezes Hoseok’s heart like a vice at the sight of your Bambi eyes. A sneak attack, he thinks, right after I’ve been shot. So unfair.

Without a word, Hoseok hooks his fingers around the hem of your blouse and pulls it off; he does it in slow motion, waiting every second for you to protest, to tell him to fuck off. But you don’t, standing there almost listlessly, letting him undress you. Then, he works on the Kevlar, strapping it off of you and throwing it into the chair where it lands heavily. Now, you’re both standing there, motionless; him with his wrapped neck, you in your bra.

Your eyes are glued to the spot where the tattoo on his chest is and this time you don’t bother to pretend ignorance. With tentative fingers, you reach out to touch it over the T-shirt and Hoseok lets you, watching you curiously. On a whim, he takes off the shirt and watches you stare, a little wide-eyed at the tattoo. There’s recognition in the way you’re looking at it and Hoseok’s confirmed on what he already knows.

You touch the tattoo, your finger hot on his skin. Again, call it a whim or call it immaturity because Hoseok is suddenly angry for whatever reason - probably from what just went down earlier, because as much as he has had experience with shooting a gun, he had never had to shoot at someone before and having it shot back in his direction, because target practice in the military don’t shoot back and he’s starting to feel that he wasn’t fully prepared for the whole shitshow - he presses your palm over the tattoo.

“I’ve been waiting for you to say something,” he hisses into your face. “I know you know.” You try to pull away but Hoseok holds you in place, taking one step forward and pinning you against the desk, anger surging. “I know you know who I am and I bet you’ve fantasised about me, too, in bed. Haven’t you?”

The anger swells up though he can’t quite pinpoint what the cause is. He’s angry that no one told him that he could die on the job? He’s angry at himself for being so lackadaisical about it when signing the damn employee contract? He’s angry at you for not saying anything and treating him for a fool, the same way you didn’t warn him that a meeting could go south in a blink of an eye? None of the reasons, if Hoseok was thinking clearly, made any sense because he’s not a child. But he’s angry all the same and he needs to direct it somewhere. He nearly fucking die, damn it!

You’re quiet, not saying anything, only looking back at him, breathing heavily. That only makes him angrier. “You have, haven’t you? When you realised who I was, did you fantasise about this, too? Hoya taking you on this desk, in this office?”

He’s squeezing the flesh on your side. “Answer me, goddammit!”

“I don’t,” you finally whisper.

“Liar!” he growls, face inches from yours. “Admit that you’ve been fantasising about him in your bed and how much you want him to fuck you right here!” He slams his fist into the desk. “Admit it!”

You meet his gaze. “I don’t. I don’t fantasise about Hoya.” In a lower voice as you look away, you add, “Not anymore.”

It feels like having to admit your deepest, darkest secret in public and you’ve never felt so humiliated. Forget about bruised egos, you wish the floor would just open up and swallow you whole. Your fantasy lover, your sweet, sexy Hoya has been slowly disintegrating in your mind the day you realised who Hoseok was, slowly, slowly replacing with images of the real person, Hoseok himself. Lusting for a coworker is sexual harassment, your own voice echoes in your head.

You hook a finger through a belt loop in his pants and pull him closer, crotch to crotch and immediately you can feel him, hard and poking against your pubic bone. Looking him in the eye, you say, “I don’t fantasise about Hoya.”

For a moment, Hoseok can’t comprehend what you’re saying; the fact that his cock is pressing up against you could be the main reason why his brains are scrambled. There’s a petulance in the look in your eyes and the way you’re looking at him challengingly, daring him to take the hint and act on it. Why are you doing this to him? Why do you make him so angry? Why is he so angry?

The fact that you did, in the past, had fantasised about the adult model leaves him with a bitter taste in his mouth at the unfairness. Why does Hoya get everything? Even you, for a moment. “Why not?” he asks, genuinely curious. “Why not anymore?”

You lean on your tiptoes, pressing your palms against his chest, the spot where his cock is digging in searing hot. “Because,” you say, your breath falling on his lips. “I’ve been fantasising about you, Jung Hoseok. I don’t want Hoya anymore when I have the real thing right here.” You lean in closer. “But, I won’t do anything. I’m your boss.”

You push him away, catching him by surprise that he stumbles backward a few steps. “Now, if you’ll excuse me I-”

Hoseok grabs your wrist and wrenches you backward. “Actually,” he says, purring into your ear, “you’re not my boss anymore. As of five o’clock just now, my contract ended.”

You scowl at the clock on the wall: 5.01. You glance back at Hoseok, arching an eyebrow. “And?”

“Fuck, you make my blood boil,” he hisses, eyes glaring at you angrily, mouth connecting with yours without a warning, teeth gnashing together that you taste blood on your tongue the same way you can taste Hoseok’s overflowing emotions. You recognise it well, have gone through it in the past too many times too much after every gunfight. It’s not anger that he’s feeling but he probably hasn’t figured that out yet, confusing it with anger because that’s the emotion he knows and can place.

He’s still running on adrenaline, never switching off his fight-or-flight response and since he had been on fight mode to get you out of the situation earlier, he’s still there, but since there’s nothing to fight, he’s channelling it differently. To be honest, you’re still in that same haze, too, probably why you never fight him off when he kisses you, probably also why you pull him in closer, pressing your front up against him and letting him lift you up and plops you on the edge of the desk. He needs this as much as you do.

“Tell me,” he says in between kisses, “what do you want me to do, my lady?”

The words my lady makes a shiver run down your spine, even more when he says it like that; spitefully, sarcastically. The fire burning in Hoseok’s eyes is somehow turning you on even more than the icy cold look that Hoya always has. You want that fire to burn you, too, and maybe it could clean away all the parts you hate and free you of the burden you’ve felt since taking over the company. You want Hoseok to incinerate you if it means liberation.

Hoseok peppers your neck with kisses so rough little red spots dot your skin. As he sucks on your earlobe, you let out a whine that only fuels him on. “FYI, I’m better than him,” he growls and only for a second, you wonder why he refers to Hoya in the third person but the thought completely wipes out from your mind the moment he pulls your bra down and wraps his mouth around your already perky nipple.

You lean back on your hands, giving him free access, clamping your mouth shut from making any noise but the way he rolls your nipple in between his teeth and tongue almost makes you lose it. There’s a soft knock on the door but you ignore it, your eyes closed and focused on Hoseok’s mouth. It’s not long until he’s shimmying off your pants and underwear together, kneeling by the desk, fingers digging into your thighs as he keeps your legs from closing around his head.

You’re already so wet that when Hoseok’s mouth lands on your soaked cunt, he makes this loud slurping sound as he sucks on your throbbing clit. This time, you bite onto your arm to keep from screaming out. That long tongue you’ve seen on posters, that you’ve dreamed of having on you, is now actually teasing and prodding your entrance, tongue-fucking you so well you’re starting not to care that they are people outside the door, one of them your own older brother.

Hoseok stands up and the strain in his pants is very much evident. He doesn’t even bother to take it off fully, pushing it down to his knees, enough to spring his length free for you to finally gaze at its glory. It’s exactly like the poster but much larger, sticking up erect against his stomach. Without wasting time, you widen your legs as an invite and Hoseok lines himself up. He glides it over your clit a few times, gathering your juice before slowly, painfully slowly, sinks in, letting your warmth cover him tip to base, feeling every ridge of your wall swallow him whole. You pulsate around him, adjusting to his size as he leans his forehead against yours.

Something inside you screams that this isn’t the time or place for this type of debauchery but the way Hoseok’s eyes set you on fire, you can barely think clearly. You can hear familiar voices outside your door and can tell that Yoongi must have called Jin over. There’s a soft knock on the door and Hoseok growls, “Fuck off,” and whoever is on the other side must have heard the fury in his voice and doesn’t bother to knock again.

“Your team needs medical attention when they get back,” you say breathlessly, fully aware of the parts of you and Hoseok that are connected. “We should-”

Hoseok pulls out and rams in, knocking the breath out of you in a loud gasp as your toes curl at the delicious feeling. “Finally found a way to shut you up, My Lady,” he comments with a smirk. “See if you can keep quiet for me.”

The desk rattles underneath you but you’re stubborn in your own ways, clamping your mouth shut, whimpering in your throat as you brace your knuckles against the surface of the desk. Hoseok pounds into you until your eyes roll back into your head, him grunting softly, you a whining mess. Unsatisfied and annoyed, Hoseok pulls you off the desk and readjust you, hitting you from the back while holding one of your legs up by the knee, an angle that lets him reach in deep, leaving your mouth hanging open, not even a squeak uttered as it feels like you can barely breathe. The sound of wet skin slapping against skin is resounding in your ears.

“Look at you, taking orders so well,” Hoseok hisses in my ear. “Is this what you fantasise about happening between you and Hoya?”

“Just get it over and done with,” you snap back, leaning against the desk for support. You can hear a slight commotion outside the door as the team left behind is back. You can hear the scraping of furniture as things are being moved around to create space.

Again Hoseok wrenches your wrist over to your office chair, guiding you to straddle him. Once you slide back onto his length, sighing softly, Hoseok roughly cups your cheeks, forcing you to look at him. “Look at me so you can see it’s not Hoya,” he orders. “I want you to remember that it’s me making you feel this way, me stuffing you full. Not him.”

You nod weakly, wanting nothing than to appease the fire in his eyes, the same fire that seems to be burning stronger in the pit of your stomach with every plunge as you move on top of him. You can feel that familiar twist, the coiling of pleasure as it winds tighter and tighter. Hoseok gets the signal from the way you fist his shirt and the way your pussy clenches harder around his cock. You’re close and so is he.

You’re losing momentum, growing tired from having to move on tiptoes to have as much control on your movements so Hoseok places both hands over your ass and lifts you up, transporting you onto the desk once again, your back flat on it. Then he gets to work; his strokes are relentless yet even, assisted by how overflowing your cunt is, making everything that much more pleasurable.

“I’m close,” you manage to squeak out.

“Keep your eyes open,” Hoseok warns but this time his voice is softer. “Keep your eyes on me, princess. Say my name.”

You’re a little confused but obliged, his name coming out in a whisper at first. The orgasm is close now. “Louder,” urges Hoseok, chasing it.

“Hoseok,” you mumble, spreading your legs wider, letting him hit exactly in that sweet spot. You’re oh so close your back is arching off the desk. “Hoseok.” Your voice is growing louder and the desk makes a loud sound as it’s suddenly pushed back slightly.

Not a minute later, you’re pulling Hoseok in by the neck, biting down on his shoulder to muffle the scream spilling from your lips as you orgasm hard enough for Hoseok to have a few last strokes before pulling out and spilling all over your stomach, covering your skin with hot milky liquid that you barely pay attention to as you come down from your high. When you finally let go of Hoseok, a crimson set of teeth marks bloom on the shoulder of his shirt.

Hoseok glances at the spot, frowning. “You bit me.”

“You told me to be quiet,” you retort sweetly.

***

Your office door finally opens and Jimin sighs, “Finally, thank God! You finally decide to-”

He stops, looking at you from head to toe, noticing that you’re in a pair of jeans and a loose T-shirt, not what you were wearing earlier. Hoseok is also in a fresh dark T. You fake nonchalance, typing up your hair into a ponytail to manage the mess and walk over to Yoongi tending to one of your men. He doesn’t seem to have any serious wounds. Hoseok goes over to the others, crouching on the floor to talk to one of them.

Yoongi doesn’t even bother looking up but there’s a smug look on his face. “Finished debriefing your Head of Security?”

You catch Yoongi looking at you in the reflection in the window and glare at him. “Yes. It was satisfactory.” He snorts a laugh but doesn’t say anything more.

The team came back mostly intact, suffering from light wounds that can easily be taken care of. After the doctors finished looking at them, Hoseok takes them to another room to have a post mortem regarding the situation and you help Yoongi and Jin pack up. Jimin is already on the phone with the clean-up crew, occasionally flicking his eyes over at you like he’s got something to say and is antsy to say it.

Honestly, you’re not up to dealing with him right now, so you pack up your things and head home. Jimin will take care of things, that much you know, and you’ll deal with the Sumiyoshi another day. Right now, all you can think about is your bed and how warm and safe it would feel under the thick blankets because now that the adrenaline is gone, you feel bone tired, dragging your feet as you arrive home and climb into bed.

You must have dozed off because when you open your eyes again, the room is dark and someone is ringing your doorbell incessantly. You get up and squint at the intercom through your sleepy eyes and see Hoseok standing in the lobby area, waiting to be let in with one hand against his hip.

“What is it?” you croak through the speaker, hoping he'll just go away.

Hoseok looks up directly into the camera. “Let me in already.”

“Just go away.”

You watch as he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He holds up a paper bag to the camera. “I suppose you’re not hungry then.”

Your stomach lets out a loud rumble.

***

You eat in silence, Hoseok sitting across from you as he pushes his food around with his fork, watching your plate to make sure your food is eaten.

“How’d you know my favourite shop?” you ask, trying to alleviate the awkwardness.

“Jimin,” he grunts out.

Suddenly, the memories of earlier in the office come rushing in and your fork pauses just inches from your lips. “Oh,” you say quietly. “Did he, um…did he say anything to you?”

Hoseok shakes his head. “Why? Should he?”

You shrug, feeling a little relieved. “Just wondering.”

Hoseok puts down his fork and crosses his arms over his chest. “Are you two in a weird situationship or something? Because I’m not going to waste my time getting in the middle of that.”

You almost choke on your food as you laugh, shaking your head and coughing, fingers wiping your eyes. “Where the hell did you get that idea from?”

“You guys look really close.” You look up and can’t believe to see the pout on his face as he looks down to the floor, scowling. Something about the way he looks at that moment makes you feel weirdly protective of him.

“We are,” you say, continuing to eat. “We practically grew up together. He had been there since the beginning and I guess we bonded over shared trauma.”

Hoseok raises an eyebrow.

You chuckle. “It’s just something we say. When my grandfather died, we were both only seventeen, fresh out of high school. He was the grandson of my grandfather’s right-hand man who died the same day my grandfather did. Well, you can imagine how.”

Hoseok gives a small nod.

“Yeah, well, after that, it was a whole shitshow of finding a successor and because I’m a girl, the company wasn’t confident. But my grandfather’s will was ironclad so they sent me off to college and groomed me to be the next head. Jimin, too. He would have been a professional dancer by now, you know? If they had let him be.”

Hoseok watches you stare into your plate, barely eating now. There’s a melancholy in your voice and a bittersweet smile lingering on your lips. “Jimin tells me that he agreed to the role so he can keep an eye on me,” you laugh, “but I’m certain that he was subjected to more pressure than I was and not with words.” You give him a knowing look. “So when I finally stepped into the position, I swore I was going to do things differently.”

Hoseok scoffs. “Is it really any different now?”

You smile at him. “My grandfather led the top underground organisation of his time. This company is built on the bones of his enemies. Literally.”

“You still deal with the same type of people,” Hoseok points out.

You sigh. “Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, you can never wash off the bloodstains. Not completely.” You stand up and collect the plates, bringing them over to the sink. “Enough about me. What about you?”

“What about me?”

You lean against the sink, looking at him. “Look, I know you know that I know you’re Hoya, let’s get that out in the open now. Yes, I buy those stupid magazines, kill me.”

He smirks but his eyes clouded over. “I thought lusting over a coworker is wrong.”

You roll your eyes. “We’re not coworkers, I’m your boss.”

“Which makes it even worse.”

You let out a groan. “Seriously, stop trying to distract me!”

“From what?”

“From demanding that you just admit it.”

“Admit what?”

That you’re Hoya! That you work as an adult model on the side!” You’re so frustrated now you’re actually screaming at Hoseok who only looks mildly amused.

“I’m not,” he says simply.

“Ugh, fine. Whatever, I don’t care,” you snap, proceeding to start doing the dishes. “You can go now. I’m just going back to bed after this.”

Hoseok stands up and walks over to stand next to you. He leans over slightly so you’re forced to look at him. “I’m not Hoya,” he repeats.

“I saw the tattoo on your chest,” you retort. “You don’t have to lie.”

Hoseok touches the spot over his T-shirt. “Yeah, we got matching tattoos.”

You give him an incredulous look. “What the hell? Do you have some kind of multiple personality thing or something?”

“No, I don’t. I’m not Hoya, and Hoya isn’t me.”

You stare at him, the water running in the background. “I don’t get it.”

Hoseok leans back against the kitchen cabinet. “He’s my twin.”

“What kind of bullshit is that?”

“I have a twin brother. It’s not bullshit,” Hoseok reiterates, frowning. He fishes out his phone from his pocket, scrolls around on it and produces a photo to show you. “See? Twins.”

You stare, open-mouthed, at the picture of two identical men; one clearly Hoseok with his serious face, barely a smile, the other one the complete opposite with a bright smile and a peace sign over his eyes, his other arm thrown over Hoseok’s shoulders.

“Holy shit,” you breathe out. “You’re twins!”

“Like I was telling you,” Hoseok replies, rolling his eyes and putting the phone away.

“Wow,” you say again. “That’s…that’s…”

Hoseok crosses his arms again, the smirk on his face growing into a grin. “Yeah, you lusted over your employee’s family member. Should I report to HR?”

Flustered, you tell him, “Actually your contract ended so you’re not my employee anymore.” You turn back around to do the dishes, hiding the fact that your face is burning red.

Hoseok nods. “Right.”

You feel his arms snake around your middle, pulling you up against him as he places his lips to your ear. “Since I’m not an employee anymore,” he whispers, “how about we continue where we left off earlier? Hmm? I heard you have a king bed.”

Against your better judgement, you melted into him. “Let me guess; Jimin told you about that too?”

Hoseok purrs. “He implied, yes.”

While Jimin prepares for battle at the office, making a few phone calls and arranging a few meetings here and there for you, you and Hoseok retreat to the bedroom and for the first time since the bed was bought, you’re about to see if the quality is as good as the brand company promised; sturdy and quiet.

You left your phone in the kitchen so you missed the text from Jimin: I hope the tall glass of water I sent your way is rejuvenating

a/n2: so I wrote this before news of jhope's enlistment came up and kinda hate myself for writing it into existance :') cmon be honest, what did you think? lol give it to me in the comments or ask IM READEHHH lmaoooo

Check out my other works → :MASTERLIST:

#bts jhope #bts hoseok #jung hoseok #hoseok x you #bts jhope x you #bts one shot #jhope one shot #hoseok one shot #bts smut #hoseok fic #jhope smut #fanfic #bts fanfic #bts jhs #jhope fanfic #hoseok fanfic

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