#g: fluff

[starlightkun]

❧ word count: 8.8k ❧ warnings: cursing, uh reader gets called like a fantasy slur?, this one really focuses on the concept of ‘othering’ in this society and how it manifests in and around jeno and reader’s werewolf/human relationship ❧ genre: fluff, angst but like from outside sources (see warnings), modern magical creatures au, fantasy au, college au if you squint again, werewolf jeno, human reader, ft. werewolf sungchan, human renjun, and dryad jaemin, same universe as strawberry sunday, sequel to pupsick ❧ extra info: this is a sequel to pupsick! it theoretically could be read as a standalone with minimal confusion but i highly recommend you read pupsick first to see how these two crazy kids got together this work is set in the same universe as strawberry sunday! there is no continuing plotline between fics in this universe (aside from pupsick to this one), they simply take place in the same world/magic system and may have overlapping characters (neos may pop up in more than one work!)

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ explore the strawberry sunday universe more here!

“Welcome!” Renjun smacked the tip of his lecture pointer against his TV screen. You jumped a little at the sound. “To your exclusive History of Werewolf-Human Romance crash course taught by yours truly!”

“Waah!” You yelped as you were quite literally swept off your feet by a pair of strong arms around your waist, and grabbed onto Jeno’s hands. A surprised giggle bubbled out of you. “Pup! You scared the hell out of me.”

“You were too slow.” Jeno clicked his tongue in feigned disappointment, nosing along from behind your ear down your neck. “I win.”

“As usual,” you sighed, reaching up to scratch your fingers along his scalp. The warmth of him holding you was a welcome one against the wintery chill of December that was fully set in around you. “If you didn’t need enrichment, I might lodge a formal complaint about the equity of these games, you know.”

“A formal complaint? With what authority?”

“Jaemin.”

Before your boyfriend could respond, an angry shout came from across the park, drawing your attention. You felt Jeno’s arms tense around you immediately. You spotted your friend that had come with you two, Sungchan, over by the water fountains, in a less than friendly confrontation with another man. From your viewpoint, the stranger was way out of his depth. Sungchan was a head and a half taller than him, not to mention a werewolf.

“The fuck did you just say?” Sungchan pushed the guy, who looked about your age, back by the chest. The other guy didn’t say anything, but didn’t move to back down either. Jeno let you go, but only to put himself between you and the other two, despite the distance that was already there.

“I said, say it again, to my fucking face this time, asshole,” your friend practically snarled at him and stepped forward, his fists clenched and teeth bared.

Jeno looked conflicted about leaving you or helping your friend. But before he had to make a choice, the shorter man turned on his heel and stormed off. Sungchan watched until he was completely off the premises before he rejoined you and Jeno. Your friend’s fists were still clenched in anger, and you noticed a prominent vein on his forehead that wasn’t always there.

“What did that guy say, Sungchan?” You asked him softly. You’d never seen your typically good-natured friend get worked up like that. He was always a rather calming presence, especially in contrast to the other excitable wolf with you.

“It wasn’t just some guy, it was another werewolf,” Jeno informed you, though his focus was also on the taller man.

Sungchan stretched his neck out, letting out a sharp sigh. “Yeah, he was a werewolf. He… he called you a knotslut, Y/N.”

You felt your jaw drop as Jeno immediately spat out, “He fucking what?”

“I can assume that’s not a compliment…” You said quietly, though you’d never heard the word yourself before.

“No, it’s not.” Sungchan crossed his arms, and his features softened as he looked down at you. “It’s an obviously derogatory term for a non-werewolf—usually human, and almost always a woman—who only dates werewolves specifically because of the more wolf-ish aspects of us.”

“Or just any human woman who’s with a werewolf.” Jeno pulled you closer to him with an arm around your waist. “I am so, so sorry Y/N—”

“Jeno, shh, shh. It’s not like you’re the one who called me that.” You waved off his apology. “I just… forget sometimes, that this is still kind of all new. Humans and magical creatures all living together.”

“That doesn’t make it okay for him to have called you that, Y/N,” Sungchan said sternly.

“I didn’t say that it did,” you replied just as firmly. “It was just an unpleasant little reality check, that’s all. Thank you for standing up for me, by the way, Channie.”

“Seriously, dude, thank you,” Jeno echoed your sentiments.

Your friend finally gave a small smile. “Of course. There was no way I was going to sit back and let anybody talk about my friends like that.”

You didn’t like the pensive look that was still on his face, though. “Is there something else bothering you?”

“No, I was just thinking…” He gave you two a sheepish look. “Now don’t get me wrong, I think you two are very cute together, and I truly couldn’t imagine a better match for either of you than the other. But that whole thing that just happened… just really solidified that I think for myself, personally, I’d just rather stick with dating other werewolves. No need to worry about weird werewolf fetishists, and my hypothetical future partner wouldn’t have to worry about dealing with stuff like that. Just a lot simpler, you know?”

You exchanged a look with Jeno. Oh, you two would have a lot more discuss about your thoughts on that later. But for now, to give your friend your lukewarm support.

“Yeah, I mean, you’ve got a couple good points,” you offered politely. “Obviously, I want you stay away from weirdos.”

“But…” Jeno hopped in where you had implicitly left off. “Don’t accidentally swear off happiness in your search for something simple.”

“You sound like a fortune cookie, Jeno,” Sungchan snorted. “I take it back, being in love is rotting your brain.”

“He’d need a brain to rot in the first place.” You gently knocked on your boyfriend’s forehead for emphasis, giggling as he scrunched his eyes and nose.

When Jeno hadn’t made any kind of comeback or retort, the taller werewolf asked incredulously, “Seriously? You don’t have anything to say to that, man?”

“She’s right,” Jeno shrugged and knocked on his own head this time. “I’m just a big dumb pup, remember?”

“You two are insufferable,” Sungchan groaned, looking up at the sky in facetious misery. “Why did I agree to hang out with you guys without a fourth wheel?”

You laughed. “Because you and Jeno wanted to play soccer. And you two have officially worn me out, so why don’t you play while I take a nice long sit on the bench?”

“Fine.”

As you watched Jeno and Sungchan kick a soccer ball back and forth, you hugged your knees to your chest on a bench overlooking the soccer field, glad that it hadn’t snowed lately so your butt was staying dry. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you took it out to see who was calling.

“Hey, Renjun,” you answered brightly.

“Hey, Y/N. Are you guys still at the park?” Your friend asked, and you could distantly hear the sound of his footsteps echoing behind him. You’d sent a blanket invite out to several of your friends for this afternoon, but Sungchan had been the only one that was able to make it initially.

“Yeah. The guys are playing soccer. I’m taking a break.”

“Do you think you’ll be there much longer? I finished up my essay early so I figured I could join you.”

Oh, he must be in the parking garage on campus.

“Of course! Channie was just complaining about third-wheeling alone anyway.”

“What were you and Jeno doing?”

“Long story, I’ll tell you when you get here.”

“Oh great,” he said sarcastically. “I’ll be there in ten.”

“See you, Renjun!”

“Bye.”

“So Renjun’s coming?” Jeno called out, holding a hand up to cast a shadow over his eyes.

You nodded, knowing that Jeno had only been able to parse out your half of the conversation from the distance he was at. “Yeah, he said he’ll be about ten minutes.”

Your boyfriend gave you a thumbs up before turning back around just in time to avoid a ball that Sungchan had kicked right at his head. “Dude!”

“Like I said! Being in love’s rotting your brain, Lee Jeno!” Sungchan yelled back, throwing his hands up in a grand ‘I-don’t-know’ gesture. “And your reflexes!”

“And I’m telling you, I don’t got a brain to rot, Jung Sungchan!” Jeno jogged after the soccer ball, lining up to kick it in an impressive arc back to the other werewolf.

Renjun showed up fifteen minutes later and plopped down on the bench beside you with a zealous huff. You didn’t even need to ask what happened.

“God, half the morons at our college don’t know how to drive!” He stretched his arms over the back of the bench, rolling his neck out. “And the other half are just jumping into traffic willy-nilly like they’re trying to get ran over or something!”

“Deep breath, Renjun, deep breath.” You patted him on the shoulder.

“As soon as I graduate, I’ll take the biggest, deepest beath of my life, I promise.”

“And until then?”

“Until then, I’m white-knuckling the steering wheel with one hand and laying on the horn with the other.”

You laughed heartily. “That’s one way to go about it I guess.”

“But how are you doing, Y/N?”

“Oh, fine. Something kind of… weird, I guess, happened earlier, though.”

“Weird?”

You squinted your eyes at the two werewolves now at the opposite end of the soccer field as before, trying to guesstimate if that was enough distance for your conversation to not be picked up by their superhuman hearing. To be safe, you leaned in towards your human friend and lowered your voice.

“There was this other werewolf here, and he said something about me and Jeno.” You admitted.

Renjun tilted his head curiously. “Said what?”

“Well, more specifically, he called me a-a knotslut?” The word felt unfamiliar in your mouth, and left a bitter taste on your tongue. Your lip curled unpleasantly at the memory it brought up.

His eyes widened as he looked around in alarm, then dropped his own voice to a whisper, “So where’s the body? Because there’s no way Jeno would’ve let someone that called you that leave alive.”

“Jeno wasn’t the one who heard him say it,” you clarified. “Sungchan did. Jeno and I were busy goofing off. Channie had gone to refill his water by the bathrooms and apparently the guy said it over there by him.”

“He probably thought that Sungchan was going to agree with him.”

“Must’ve been a shock for him when Sungchan almost bashed his face in himself.”

Renjun burst out in a full-bodied laugh. “Oh, I’m sure it was.”

“But, I want to ask you something, Renjun. Since you’re here.” You turned on the bench to fully face your human friend.

“Sure, what’s up?”

“You’re a Magical Creatures Studies major. Me and Jeno… it’s not that weird, right? Like, new, I mean? There’s got to be more of a history to humans and magical beings being together than six months ago.”

“Oh there absolutely is!” Renjun’s eyes sparkled as he straightened up in his seat. “I’m actually finishing up a class on Interspecies Marriage right now! Did you know that the earliest written record we have of a traditional werewolf mating ritual between a human and werewolf is nearly two thousand years old?”

“Wait, really?” You weren’t expecting that much precedent. Maybe a couple hundred years, not a couple thousand.

“Yeah! And as for how we would conventionally think of marriage today between a human and werewolf, that still goes back at least 800 years for official written historical records. And that’s just written. There’s oral traditions of entire packs that were equal parts human and werewolf that are much, much older with archaeological evidence to back it up.”

“Archaeological? Like, bones?”

“Well, yeah. But also artifacts of their villages. Things that—”

A movement in the periphery of your eye made you whip your head up to look back at the field. Jeno and Sungchan were leisurely walking over towards you two, the former carrying the soccer ball. You smacked Renjun’s knee to shut him up as quickly as possible. Offended, he seemed to nevertheless get the idea, thankfully, and stopped his never-ending stream of facts.

You smiled up at the two werewolves as they stopped beside you two. “Done already?”

“Just coming to say hey to Renjun,” Jeno informed you as Sungchan grabbed a bag that was next to the bench.

“Hey, guys,” Renjun greeted them.

Sungchan fetched a couple water bottles that were inside, tossing one to Jeno, who caught it one-handed. He then set the soccer ball down by his feet to twist the bottle open.

“And hydrate,” the taller wolf added.

The human rolled his eyes. “Oh. I feel so special now.”

“You guys want to join?” Jeno offered, using his shirt to dab at a bead of sweat on his forehead with the hem. You shamelessly watched his movements. “We can do teams now that we’ve got even numbers.”

“Yeah, werewolves versus humans,” Sungchan suggested with a grin.

“Only if you guys hop on one leg with your hands tied behind your back,” you retorted.

“How are we supposed to kick the ball like that?”

“You can figure it out with your big, non-rotted, pristine brain, Channie. I believe in you.”

“Well not if I’ve got Mr. Fortune Cookie over here making heart eyes at you the whole time.” Sungchan jabbed a thumb in Jeno’s direction, and when you looked over at him, he was already looking at you.

“I’m sorry, I thought you wanted me on your team?” Jeno rounded on him indignantly.

Sungchan shrugged as he finished the rest of his water. “Like you’ll really try if it’s against Y/N.”

Your boyfriend rolled his eyes, but didn’t do anything to dispute the claim. “Fine, then you’re taking Renjun?”

“No. I’m taking Y/N, obviously.”

As you and Sungchan walked out to your own side of the field, you studied him suspiciously.

“Why did you want me on your team?” You asked him, soccer ball in your hands this time. “If you think Jeno and I are too lovey-dovey to compete against each other?”

“Well I took your advice, and I thought about it with my huge, smart, peak condition brain—”

You couldn’t help but laugh in his face at his phrasing, to which he snickered as well.

“—and I figured that even if you don’t give it 110%, you’re still better than Renjun. So not only is Jeno not going to be doing good himself because he’s competing against you, but his teammate kind of sucks too.”

“Ohh, I got you,” you nodded along, which slowly turned into a disbelieving head shake. “I think we need to set you up with someone. You’re too smart for everyone else’s good, your brain’s in need of a little rotting.”

Sungchan turned to you then, squaring his shoulders. “I’ll make you a deal.”

“Hmm, since you’re not a fairy, I’ll hear you out. The terms?”

“If we win and I’m convinced that you actually gave your best against Jeno… then you can set me up on one date.”

“You’re agreeing to a blind date?”

“One.”

“With anybody of my choosing? You won’t back out no matter what they are?”

“I can’t back out of it.”

“And you have to put in an earnest effort, too. You can’t intentionally sabotage it.”

“I can’t back out of it, and I can’t intentionally sabotage it.”

You stuck a hand out to him. “Deal.”

Sungchan took your chilly hand, shaking it with his perpetually warm one. “Deal.”

God you were exhausted. Your legs burned, your eyes were watering from the cold wind, and you sucked in breath after breath of air that nipped at your lungs and seemed to hurt as much as it helped. But finally, someone declared the game over, and that you and Sungchan had won.

You let out an unintelligible, guttural grunt of victory, plopping yourself down onto the grass exactly where you were standing and pumping your fists up into the air from the ground instead. Sungchan jogged up to you, bright grin on his features as he held a hand down to you for a high-five.

“That was awesome, Y/N!” Your teammate celebrated as you weakly slapped your hand down against his. “I told you you were better than Renjun!”

“What? Why was disparaging me even part of your pep talks?” Renjun yelled from afar, tossing his hands up in the air in equal parts bewilderment and offense.

“Y/N!” Jeno ran up to you, skidding to his knees on the ground beside you to throw his arms around you. “Good job! Seriously, you did so good out there! Your passing got better and—”

“See? He’s happier that you won than if he had won.” Sungchan gestured to your boyfriend pointedly.

Through a tired smile, you pecked Jeno on the cheek. “Thanks, pup. You did great, too.”

Then, you turned your focus to the other werewolf still standing above the two of you, the smile dropping from your face. You pointed at him knowingly. “Consider my end of the deal fulfilled now, Jung.”

Sungchan crossed his arms over his chest, not seeming very happy about this, but he didn’t argue. “Fine. Later, okay?”

“Fine…” You gracefully dropped the subject at the moment. After all, you needed time to carefully consider. So for now, you wrapped your arms around Jeno and laughed as he kissed your cheek back two times.

“Hey, what were you and Sungchan talking about, by the way?” Jeno asked as he came into the living room with his after-dinner snack. You were staying at his place tonight to continue binging a show that you, Jeno, and Jaemin had started together.

“When?” You lifted up one side of the fluffy blanket that was on your lap for him to sit down under. Once he had, you immediately scooted closer to rest your head against his shoulder. When he was done eating, he would be the one snuggling up to you like usual, but for now, he did unfortunately have to attend to his inhuman metabolism.

“After we all played soccer. Some deal?”

“Oh, oh, oh!” You sat up straight, excited now. Looking at both Jeno, and Jaemin, who was stretched out on his own couch on the other side of the living room, you announced excitedly, “Sungchan’s letting me set him up on a date.”

“What?” “Seriously?” They blurted out at the same time.

“Yup. The deal was that if I gave 110% in the soccer game against Jeno, and Sungchan and I won, then he’d let me set him up on exactly one date.” You confirmed with a devilish hand rub.

Jeno scrunched his nose up. “How many werewolves do you know, Y/N? I guess I might know some from my pack back home that are nice…”

“That’s the best part. He can’t back out of it or self-sabotage no matter who it is, or what they are. So it doesn’t have to be a werewolf.”

Your boyfriend caught your eye, and you knew that the two of you were thinking the exact same thing. “Oh…”

“Yeah…”

“Hey!” Jaemin snapped his fingers to get your attention. Once you both were looking over at him, despite the fond smile on his face, he made a show of rolling his eyes as he grumbled, “I hate when you two do that. Mind filling me in?”

“Channie’s apparently got this thing about only wanting to date werewolves because it’s easier,” you explained. “You know, no worrying about weirdos who date werewolves because they’re werewolves.”

“And he claims that it’s just not worth any possible… harassment,” Jeno added. He’d apparently polished off his snack while you and Jaemin were speaking, because with two free hands, he pulled you closer to him again, pressing a kiss to your temple. “And after today, I kind of understand why.”

“Jeno, don’t talk like that,” you replied firmly, feeling a lump grow in your throat.

“I don’t agree with him, but I understand him. You don’t want the person you’re in love with to go through something like that. I want to be able to do something to make sure you never have to have someone treat you like that ever again, Y/N. But not if it’s not being with you. That… that doesn’t feel right to me.”

You laced your fingers with the hand of the arm he had around your shoulders, wrapping him even tighter around you. “Of course it doesn’t. Because it’s not right. And you’re not going to do something so stupid, Lee Jeno.”

“I know,” he squeezed your hand.

After a beat of quiet, Jaemin spoke up softly, “Will you… tell me what happened?”

“There was another werewolf at the park today. He called Y/N something awful.”

“What…?”

Figuring it might not be a good idea to say it again around Jeno, especially since your boyfriend apparently couldn’t bring himself to say it either, you jumped in, “Remember how we were just talking about people who only date werewolves because they’re werewolves?”

Jaemin’s face changed from confusion to recognition, then sympathy. “Oh, that’s horrible. I’m sorry, Y/N. That must have been terrible.”

“I’m okay, Jaemin. Thanks.” You smiled encouragingly to your friend. “Now, are we watching the show or…?”

“Yeah, yeah!” The dryad reached for the remote to select your show.

Later, once everyone had retired to bed for the night, you were staring up at the ceiling of Jeno’s bedroom, a discontented frown on your face. Your boyfriend exited the bathroom, flicking the light off behind him and flopping face-first onto his side of the bed. With no hesitation, he rolled over until he could rest his head on your middle. Except you didn’t move your fingers that had been laced together over your stomach as you stewed in your moody thoughts.

A comically confused sound came from Jeno at the unexpected barrier between him and his favorite pillow. And when you still didn’t move them, he lifted his head up to be able to look at you. “Y/N? Baby?”

“Hm?” You finally looked down at him, and registered the weight on your abdomen. You unlaced your hands and lifted them to make room. “Oh, sorry, Jeno. I was thinking.”

“About?” He prompted you as he settled in for his nearly nightly head scratches and rubs (they were only missed on the nights that you didn’t spend together). Your fingers began their habitual carding through his hair one way, then scratching gently along his scalp back the other way.

“When you said you understand Sungchan—”

“Y/N, I said—”

“Please let me finish.”

“You’re right, sorry. Go ahead.”

You sighed, keeping one hand in his hair and trailing the other down to caress his forehead, cheekbone, jaw, then tilted his chin up so he was looking at you.

“You’re both looking at it wrong,” you affirmed, holding his gaze steadily. “You don’t control other people’s actions solely by existing. That guy didn’t call me that today because I’m a human or because you’re a werewolf or because he heard me call you ‘pup’ or any litany of things about you and me. He said it because there’s something wrong with him. He said it because for some reason he just couldn’t imagine any scenario where you and I were simply just happy. And I for the life of me cannot bring myself to give a shit about pleasing people like him. So yes, while I do wish that you would encounter as little strife and hurt and injustice in your life as possible, Jeno, because I love you, I don’t believe for a second that any of it is caused by me loving you. I think that when things like this do happen, it’s caused by other people’s hate.”

Jeno’s throat bobbed up and down as he swallowed, and he slowly nodded, his eyes not leaving yours. His hand came up to cup yours that was cradling his face, his thumb gently rubbing over the backs of your knuckles. You leaned down to press your forehead to his, brushing your noses together.

“Welcome!” Renjun smacked the tip of his lecture pointer against his TV screen. You jumped a little at the sound. “To your exclusive History of Werewolf-Human Romance crash course taught by yours truly!”

Now that the fall semester and finals week were over, you were over at Renjun’s place. You had asked him if you could finish your conversation that you were having at the park about werewolves and humans. And truly, you don’t know why you had thought that you two would just grab coffee or something. You shouldn’t have expected anything less than a full-blown PowerPoint presentation from your friend who practically lived, breathed, ate, and slept Magical Creatures Studies.

“Did you just have that laying around?” You asked, referring to the pointer in his hand.

“Yes of course.”

“Of course,” you echoed humorously as you reclined into your seat on his couch. “Anyway, go for it, Renjun. I’m all ears.”

“Okay, so—” He pressed the spacebar on his laptop that was projecting to the TV. The first slide popped up. “Archaeological data. This is where we left off in our conversation. Entire packs have been found that were half human and half werewolf—”

You raised your hand. “Excuse me? Professor Huang?”

“Yes?” He called on you, having fully slipped into his role as lecturer.

“When you say the packs were half human, half werewolf, what do you mean? Like the population statistics were 50% humans and 50% werewolves? Or the individuals themselves were half-and-half genetically?”

“The former. These packs were integrated evenly with humans and werewolves.”

“And you’re saying ‘packs’ specifically. Not villages, or societies, or groups. Why?”

“From what we’ve been able to gather bout how they lived from the artifacts left behind, it seems their social structure more closely mirrored the customs and habits of werewolves than the humans that lived in that same area at the time.”

“So the humans that were in the pack adopted werewolf culture?”

“You’re getting ahead of me,” Renjun beamed at you. “You’re a very perceptive student.”

“Oh. Go ahead, Professor Huang.” You gave him a humble seated bow to proceed with the slide he was on.

“So, the archaeological data itself that was found was, like you said, bones, obviously, but also pots, stone tools, trinkets, even children’s toys or bits of clothing have been found.” He clicked to the next slide. There were pictures of some of the objects he’d mentioned, and a couple more. “This is where it gets interesting. Even if we hadn’t found any human skeletons, we would’ve known that humans had lived there because there were human tools found. Tools that werewolves didn’t need. Like knives to cut their food into bite-sized pieces, and jars that have residue from medicine that we know was used to treat diseases communicable among humans but not werewolves.”

“Wow.”

Next slide. This one had a picture of some objects on one side, pieces of worn leather, smooth colorful stones, and on the other side, a drawing of two necklaces, with matching opalescent stones wrapped securely in them.

“On the left—” he smacked said side with the pointer. “—are the pieces of two leather necklaces that were found with a pair of skeletons that were buried together. The right—” smack “—is an artist’s rendition of what the necklaces most likely looked like originally.”

“They’re beautiful.”

“Werewolves will traditionally bury mates together.”

“Like human couples who buy a plot of land in a cemetery big enough for the both of them before they pass.” You nodded.

“Exactly. This specific pack wasn’t 50/50 werewolves and humans we think. From what we’ve been able to parse out, it was more 80/20, with more werewolves. But they still buried werewolf-human couples together with all the same rites as werewolf couples. This pair right here was a werewolf-human couple.”

You smiled up at the image on-screen, feeling the familiarity of them reach across time to you in that moment. “And the necklaces?”

“It was sort of like a wedding ring-slash-mating claim fusion.” Renjun tapped the two necklaces with zeal again. You were starting to get a little afraid that he was going to damage his TV. “You were asking if the humans in these packs adopted werewolf culture, right? For the most part, yes, they did. They took on all of the werewolves’ culture as their own as far as we can tell. And what they couldn’t do, like eating raw meat, they adapted so they could. Obviously, day to day meals, they’d cook with heat. But many culturally important events held significance in the rawness of the food, so the humans would cure meat in salt ahead of time so they could safely consume it for those instances.”

“What sort of events?”

“The celebration of the solstices, uh mating rituals, burials, any number of things most likely involved the consumption of specifically raw meat as part of the tradition. It was an important staple of the werewolf diet, hence why Jeno has to slam down those protein bars now.”

You chuckled a little bit, able to perfectly picture your boyfriend’s shelf in his pantry that was taken up by boxes upon boxes of protein bars specifically formulated for werewolves. “Ah, yes, the ancestral chocolate peanut butter flavored protein bars.”

“And now you know the important cultural significance of them.” Your friend sighed wistfully, then switched back into his lecture-mode. “Back to the necklaces. So while the humans largely assimilated into werewolf culture, they also introduced a few things of their own. Typically, when two werewolves mate for life, it’s a whole biting and scenting thing and bam— every wolf in a hundred-mile radius gets the message. But human noses and teeth aren’t exactly up to par for that, right?”

“…Right.”

“So these pairs did both.”

“Both?”

“Again, extrapolation, and oral tradition.” Renjun qualified his explanation as he quickly clicked to the next slide, which had bullet points for what he was now laying out to you. “Unlike a normal wound, a werewolf’s mating bite would heal quickly and had no risk of infection, even for a human. But a human couldn’t do that back to the werewolf, and the human can’t really smell that much of a difference. But handmade, matching necklaces with a precious stone? Now that’s something everyone can see and understand.”

You nodded, “Yeah, okay. I get it. You want to make sure that both of you feel honored and loved in however that manifests for each of you, and obviously you want your partner to express their love for you in whatever way feels the most genuine and powerful.”

“Uh… yeah…” Renjun gave you a strange look. “I mean, in the field we look at it as a fascinating example of the blending of different cultures but-but that’s… cool… too…”

You gave him an unamused look before gesturing to the screen and to the left. “Can you go back one?”

He obliged, and you pointed at pictures. “What stone is that? Do you know?”

“Do I know what kind of stone it is?” He scoffed mockingly. “Of course I do, it’s moonstone.”

“Helps werewolves have more control over and less pain through their shift on the full moon.” You smiled as you recognized exactly why the human had chosen it all those years ago. “A perfect choice for the necklace that you intend for your werewolf lover to never take off.”

Your friend put a hand over his heart, looking at you with delight. “I knew you’d like that one. God, I almost don’t want to tell you about the werewolf brothels of the 1600s now.”

“The what?!”

Leaving Renjun’s apartment you were a changed person, but overall better, and now equipped with a lot of useful and important information. Quickly dialing up a contact on your phone, you listened to the line ring one, two times before it was picked up.

“Hey, Y/N!” Jaemin greeted you enthusiastically.

“Hey, Jaemin!” You turned a corner, your destination already in mind. “Are you home?”

“Yeah, Jeno’s at the gym right now but he should be back soon if you want to come over.”

“Actually, I wanted to ask if you wanted to go shopping? With me?”

“So why doesn’t Jeno have any moonstone?” You asked Jaemin as the two of you meandered down the aisles of one of the apothecaries in town. “It seems like something that every werewolf should just be stocked up on.”

Jaemin delicately inspected a few live herbs that were growing in small pots on a windowsill. “Jeno’s… weird about his shifting.”

“Weird how?”

“He doesn’t want anything that’ll make the process like, comfortable at all? For some reason.”

You looked back at him in disbelief. “Jeno? Lee Jeno? We’re talking about the same man who turns into the most pitiful oversized puppy I’ve ever seen when he gets an upset tummy? He wants to unnecessarily suffer once a month, every month?”

The dryad shrugged, “I don’t know what to tell you. I’ve tried to convince him to get some moonstone or at least let me make him a tonic to take beforehand, but I’m sure you know by now how stubborn he can get.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, chewing on your bottom lip. It seemed like your errand was going to be futile.

Sensing your shift in mood, your friend patted your shoulder reassuringly. “I think you’ll have much better luck, Y/N. If there’s one thing that he’s more stubborn about than anything else, it’s how much he loves you.”

“Thanks, Jaemin.”

That apothecary ended up being a bust for moonstone (though Jaemin did rescue a couple new plants that he deemed weren’t being taken of well enough), and you had to head off to the bakery right after that, no time to check out any others that were around.

“Hey, Minseok,” you gave your boss a rather unenthusiastic greeting as you wrapped your apron around you and washed up in the sink.

The sphinx was surprisingly in the back with his own apron on, and not in the office. Whoever was on shift in the kitchen that afternoon must have had to call out today. You just had to come in to prep the doughs and starters that needed to ferment overnight.

“Y/N, good evening,” he waved at you as he packed up a few empty trays. “How are you?”

“Ehh, fine.” You started taking down clean mixing bowls. “And no, I really don’t feel like expounding on that.”

Minseok held his hands up in an easy surrender. “That’s fair. But uh, I feel the need to ask… everything okay with you and Jeno?”

“What? Yeah, yeah,” you reassured him. “Don’t worry, tomorrow’s opening shift is safe.”

“That’s reassuring, but not really why I was asking.” He caught your eye knowingly. Of course, he really did just care.

You nodded, “Thanks, Minseok.”

“Anyway, I didn’t get to do any of my admin work today so—” He untied his apron and hung it on a hook. “Looks like it’s you and me for post-closing tonight.”

“What a party. Me shaping a bunch of loaves of bread and you making Excel spreadsheets.”

Sat on Jeno’s bed that night, you let your head fall forward as his warm hands worked at the muscles of your shoulders and neck.

“God, Y/N, did you not use proper kneading form or whatever bakers do?” He chastised you half-jokingly, thumb finding another knot by your shoulder blade. “How did you get this messed up after one short post-closing shift at the bakery? Did Mr. Minseok put you on a dough hook in one of the mixers or something?”

“That actually kind of sounds like it’d feel good at this point.” Your laugh turned into a groan as he had finally loosened up one area of tightness, then moved onto another.

“Seriously, maybe you should look into some orthopedic footwear or something.”

“My shoes were plenty sensible. I was just too tense today, that’s all.”

“Something on your mind?” Jeno continued massaging as you slowly rolled out your shoulders and neck.

“Yeah…”

“Is it whatever you’ve been scheming up with Renjun and Jaemin?”

You whipped your head around to look at him, wincing as you just undid pretty much everything Jeno had just fixed in your neck. “Ow…”

Your boyfriend sighed, gently turned your head back around, and brought his fingers to the sides of your neck. He gently massaged the pain away again as he kept talking. “I’ll let you keep scheming, baby, but if you want to tell me, I’m all ears. Especially if it’ll keep your occupational hazards to a minimum.”

Now mostly pain free once more, you slowly reached forward for your laptop that was at the foot of the bed, Jeno’s hands falling from your neck to your hips as you did so.

“I want to show you something, pup,” you declared, opening the computer up.

“Okay,” he agreed in a sing-song voice, scooting back to sit against multitude of pillows, bringing you with him.

As Jeno hooked his chin over your shoulder to watch what you were doing, you pulled up a new tab on your computer to do a quick search. You already knew the image that Renjun had showed you earlier was available online; you’d found it when you were explaining your idea to Jaemin at the apothecary. Jeno made a small bewildered ‘hm?’ noise as you typed in “werewolf human burial necklaces,” but ultimately stayed quiet as dozens of academic articles immediately popped up, along with the image of the two sets of remains beside each other, the pieces of the jewelry among them. You clicked on the picture to make it full screen.

“So these—” you pointed to the two skeletons “—are a mated pair from over a thousand years ago, a werewolf and a human. Their pack buried them together just like any other mates.”

“Aw,” Jeno kissed your cheek. “It’s us a thousand years ago.”

You smiled to yourself at that, reaching up to scratch his head approvingly before focusing back on the picture again.

“And they also had these necklaces, with matching moonstones.” You tapped the screen again to draw attention to the gems.

“That’s beautiful, Y/N.” He nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck. “Thank you for showing me this. Really.”

“Jeno…” You twisted to be able to see his face. “Why don’t you have any moonstone?”

You felt him breathe in and back out against your skin, and let him take as long as he needed to gather his thoughts. After a few moments, he sat up straight again, a thoughtful look on his face.

“It’s... kind of hard to explain. But it always felt like, I don’t know, a crutch? Like, I shouldn’t need it?”

“What?” You couldn’t keep the confusion from your voice.

“Saying that out loud, I’m realizing how uh, dumb that is now,” he chuckled sheepishly. “I sort of thought that werewolves before me always went through their shifts without any stuff like that just fine, so why should I need it?”

“Jeno, you realize that sounds like if I said that humans two thousand years ago survived just fine before the discovery of penicillin, so I shouldn’t go to the doctor for antibiotics when I get sick? Right?”

“Y-Yeah...” He grimaced. “Besides, I was wrong about werewolves of the past not using moonstone, clearly.”

He gestured to the picture on your laptop screen, and let out another sigh. “I just wish I knew how we got from packs burying werewolf-human mates together with matching moonstone necklaces to... where we are now.”

“Oh, Renjun has a PowerPoint on it if you really want to know.”

“That’s what you two were doing today? For three hours?”

“Yep.”

“I’ll pass.” He wrinkled his nose. “I think I’ve got a much better teacher right here anyway.”

“This was the first three slides, you know? Bold of you to assume I retained anything else Renjun said after.”

Jeno’s eyes crinkled as he laughed. “That’s fair.”

“So...” You pushed the laptop forward again, then rested your hands over his that were wrapped around your waist. “Will you get some moonstone? I hate to think that you’re suffering every month when you don’t need to.”

“On one condition.”

“And what’s that?”

“We get a matching set.”

You nodded, a soft smile spreading across your face. “Okay. Yes.”

Jeno’s grin was blinding, but you only saw a glimpse of it before you were fully twisting around to throw your arms around his neck. He let you tackle him back into the pillows, pulling you down with him. You laughed as you landed on top of him, his arms holding you tight. You took this as your opportunity to pepper his face with kisses as he always did to you, across his cheeks, and nose, and forehead, until you had a sufficiently giggly werewolf beneath you.

“You were right,” he murmured, the bright grin not falling from his face, but morphing instead into a tender smile as he looked up at you, bringing one hand up to caress your cheek.

“I know I was,” you teased, turning your head to peck the palm of his hand, then turned it back to lean into his touch. “But I have no clue what you’re talking about specifically.”

“Love isn’t pain. It’s what stops the hurting.”

His words went right to your heart, and you could only bite down on your lip and nod so as to not burst into tears then and there. Jeno wrapped both his arms around you again, rolling the two of you onto your sides and tucking you under his chin. You pressed your face into his shirt, basking in how warm and secure and loved you felt and knew you were in that moment. And that Jeno knew he was too. The fact that he knew, he finally got it, and was letting you two put it into practice in your lives, too. Your life, together.

Oh, yep, you were crying. But they were happy tears, loving, loved tears. You were feeling with every fiber of your being.

You breathed in deeply, breathed Jeno in deeply. Being a werewolf, his sense of smell was sensitive, so he didn’t use heavily perfumed products, nor wore any colognes or perfumes himself. So you could just smell clean, fresh Jeno. And he, oh so cleverly, smelled like home, like safety, like love.

When you finally looked up at your boyfriend, he looked down at you so lovingly, you felt another round of tears welling up already. But you held them back just long enough to tenderly brush a stray piece of hair from his forehead, and whisper into the quiet of the night, “I love you, Lee Jeno.”

He pressed a long kiss to your forehead, then murmured back, “I love you too, Y/L/N Y/N.”

Unlocking the back door to Half Moon Bakery the next morning, you flicked the lights on and led the way in with a skip in your step. Jeno trailed in behind you still rubbing sleep out of his eyes. Yeah, he was never going to be a morning wolf, especially when he now insisted on accompanying you when you went in at 4 a.m. to do the pre-opening kitchen prep, instead of coming in for the front opening at 6 a.m. like he used to. You secured your apron around your waist, put on your music, washed your hands, and got to work.

While it was more tiring to have back-to-back post-closing and opening shifts, you tended to prefer being able to bake your own doughs and loaves that you prepared the night before rather than ones that someone else had done. Not that you were necessarily a perfectionist or elitest about it (okay maybe a little bit that), but it was always satisfying to see the end product of something that you had started. To work on something from start to finish.

You hadn’t kept track of time, nor even of where your boyfriend was, until Jeno popped his head into the kitchen—you admittedly hadn’t realized he’d left it—to announce, “T-minus ten minutes until opening.”

“Got it, thanks, baby,” you smiled up at him, hands preoccupied with dusting powdered sugar over some pastries.

When you came to a stopping point with that task, you went to pause your own music, and could finally hear Jeno’s floating in from the front. You took joy in the small delight of Jeno’s voice being carried back too as he conversed with customers, smiling to yourself when you could hear his voice pitch up if he got particularly excited about whatever they were talking about, or drop with confusion as he would ask a customer to repeat an order that either didn’t make sense or he didn’t hear.

As you carried out a tray of cream-filled croissants—matcha flavored and strawberry flavored—you kept your eyes focused on your destination, the display case of pastries up by the register. You knew that these were a popular item, and usually worked to refill them first. There were only two matcha ones and a strawberry left, so it looks like you brought out a fresh batch just in the nick of time.

“Ah, perfect timing, Y/N!” Jeno’s voice made you stop dead in your tracks as you were setting the fresh tray on top of the case and were about to grab the old one.

You stood up straight, looking over at him in alarm. Three young kids, a dryad boy, human boy, and phoenix girl were at the register, barely big enough to see over the counter, accompanied by who you guessed to be the phoenix’s father.

“Hello,” you nodded to them politely, then looked to Jeno for an explanation. “Is something wrong, Jeno?”

“Y/N here is our baker, she makes all the delicious treats you guys eat,” Jeno said to the kids. “Including those brownies you loved so much.”

The adult phoenix spoke up, addressing you, “They loved the limited-edition peanut butter brownies you all had in the summer. They come in and beg poor Jeno here for them almost every day. I’ve tried to explain what limited-edition means to them, but...” He trailed off, giving you a sheepish shrug.

“They were sooo good!” The phoenix exclaimed, clutching her stomach dramatically.

“Why did you take them away?” The dryad asked curiously, a slight pout on his face that matched that of the toad perched on his shoulder.

“Is it ‘cause nobody was eating them? ‘Cause we’ll come eat all of them!” The human gestured to the three kids.

You chuckled, “It makes me really happy that you guys liked them so much. Thank you.”

“I beg her to bring them back all the time too, guys. Never works...” Jeno sighed melodramatically, and you elbowed him in the side.

“I literally made you some last week,” you said to him under your breath through gritted teeth. “Spoiled…”

Your boyfriend simply smiled at you innocently, and you turned your focus back to the children.

“Since I know they were so popular, I will see what I can do, okay?” You told them.

They erupted into cheers, and you found yourself grinning too, feeling your heart warmed to see so much happiness just from your baking. You finished swapping out the trays of croissants as Jeno rang up their order, then you disappeared back into the safety and quiet of the kitchens.

Minseok, whose initial appearance a few hours ago let you know it was 8 a.m., left his office then, grabbing an apron hanging on one of the hooks along the wall.

“Filling in again?” You asked him curiously, taking a fresh pan of bread out of the oven. Must be 11:00 already.

“Johnny called in sick. Or, his roommate called in sick for him. Apparently he accidentally petrified the poor guy,” your boss sighed, washing up in the sink. “He was trying to tell me the petrification usually only lasts ten to thirty minutes so Johnny would be late, but I just told him Johnny could have the day off. Sounds like he’s going to need it.”

You winced sympathetically. Poor Johnny. Mark, Johnny’s roommate, was a friend of Jeno’s, so you were keenly aware of the basilisk’s struggles with his recently developed powers; and Johnny was a new part-time hire at Half Moon, so you had gotten to know the human and had heard from him some of the unfortunate happenstances the two roommates would find themselves in as well. Johnny was at least usually in good spirits about it and seemed to find them funny most of the time.

“Mark’s trying his best…” You tried to put up a lukewarm defense of your boyfriend’s friend.

“I’d appreciate it if he tried a little harder not to petrify my employees.”

You didn’t have a good comeback, and so with that, Minseok took a tray of half-moon dipped cookies that were ready to go into the front with him. Jeno popped back in just a couple minutes later with the empty tray, already snickering.

“It’s not funny,” you pointed at him, warning in your tone. You knew what he was laughing at, surely having asked Minseok why he was working up front today.

“It’s a little funny,” he argued.

“No it’s not.”

“Come on, I bet Johnny thinks it’s funny.”

“And I’m sure Mark is mortified and hates his life right now.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of Mark’s general state of existence,” Jeno pointed out, meandering around the kitchen towards you.

You turned around to face him as he came up behind you, crossing your arms over your chest. “Be nice, pup.”

“Mmm, I’ll consider it,” he teased, standing in front of you and crossing his arms to mimic you. “Why?”

“If you don’t, I won’t ask Minseok if we can bring back the limited-edition peanut butter cup brownie.”

Jeno narrowed his eyes. “You wouldn’t disappoint those little kids just to teach me a lesson.”

“And, I won’t give you the peanut butter cookie discard I saved you from earlier.”

You saw his face perk up at that. His eyes glanced around the kitchen countertops searching for it. “You saved me one?”

“Well not if you’re going to be mean. I’ll just give it to Mark, sounds like he needs a pick-me-up right now a lot more than you.”

“Okay fine it’s not funny! It’s so unfunny! I definitely didn’t dribble water all over myself when Mr. Minseok told me because I laughed and choked because it was so funny. Because it’s not funny! I promise!” Jeno pleaded with you, uncrossing his arms and grabbing your shoulders desperately. It was then that you could see that the front of his shirt and apron did in fact have wet marks on them.

You rolled your eyes as you reached out to touch the damp material. “Jeno, seriously?”

“That was before I learned that it wasn’t funny! I’m sorry!”

“Is this why you came back here? To get a new apron?” You surmised, already knowing the answer by the nervous little smile you got in response.

“And return the empty pan and see my beautiful girlfriend that I love so much,” he added, which admittedly, did make you smile fondly as you pulled him over towards the sink by his forearm.

You held out a hand expectantly. “Apron.”

He untied the garment and handed it to you, and you went to swap it for one of the spare ones. Hopefully it would be mostly dry by the time you two left so you could just take it with you and toss it in the laundry when you got home. Jeno had taken a couple paper towels to the worst patches of his shirt, but unfortunately, it was grey, so he was just going to have to look like someone who didn’t know how to drink water for as long as it took to dry.

“Here.” You handed him the fresh apron, accepting the used paper towels in return to toss out for him.

“Thank you.”

“Honestly, how did you survive this long without me, Lee Jeno?” You clicked your tongue in feigned disappointment as you watched him put his apron on, leaning against the counter with your hip.

“Says the girl with strawberry frosting on her face,” he shot back smugly.

“What? Where?” You squeaked, looking around for a napkin.

But Jeno was already grabbing a paper towel, and held it under the persistent drip of the faucet that Minseok couldn’t seem to keep fixed. He grabbed your chin, leaned in close, and gently wiped the damp napkin over a spot on your cheek.

“Right there,” he murmured.

You looked into his big, brown, heart-stopping eyes for just a second before surging forward to close the short distance between your mouths. He smiled into the kiss, the paper towel falling from your cheek as he then gave you one, two more short pecks before pulling back.

Jeno was still holding your chin and pinched it in between his fingers affectionately as he looked at you with his adorable eye smile. “Alright, unfortunately, if I’m back here any longer, Mr. Minseok will come looking for me.”

“I suppose I’ll let you get back to work, then,” you sighed facetiously, grabbing the hand that was on your face and giving it a squeeze before letting it go.

“Yeah, you’re too much of a distraction back here, you know.”

“Shut up and go work, Jeno.”

⤷ blog masterlist  ⤷ anthology masterlist

[narliearchive]

first fluttering (of its silken wings) by thetomkatwholived [G]

What if the leaves were real? Charlie lives in a world full of Flutters, where his leaves follow him almost everywhere. Enter Nick Nelson, who hasn’t seen his Flutters in years.

[avisteliterature]

Favouritism

Diluc Ragnvindr (Genshin Impact) x Reader

RATING: General

GENRES: Fluff

WORD COUNT: 265

SUMMARY: Diluc carries you on his back when you struggle to keep up with the group.

NOTE: Reader is not the Traveller.

Aether glances over to you who's struggling to keep up with the rest of the group. He sends you a concerned look, pausing for a second to let you catch up with him. "Do you need to take a break?"

You shake your head from side to side. "I'm a bit tired," you answer, but you don't take Aether up on his offer. Instead, you turn your attention to Diluc. "Diluc, I'm sorry. Can you carry me?"

Diluc sighs as though exasperated, but his expression is far from being annoyed. He doesn't even think twice before crouching down and offering his back to you. "Get on," he tells you.

You beam, and you appreciatively climb on over to his back. Diluc wraps his arms around the back of your knees just as you move to wrap your arms around his neck for support, and he effortlessly lifts you up into the air. You rest yourself comfortably against Diluc's back, his hair tickling your cheeks as you let out a small giggle. Diluc resumes walking, leaving Aether and Paimon to follow after him.

"Wow, I never expected to see Master Diluc offer a piggy back ride!" Paimon comments with her usual cheerful voice.

Aether laughs in response. "Well, it is them, after all. Master Diluc's favouritism towards them is well-known in Mondstadt, apparently."

"..." Diluc provides no commentary of his own. It's not like he can deny it since it's the truth, anyways. He hears you give a quiet laugh behind him, but you don't respond to Aether's comment either, simply nuzzling yourself against Diluc further. It's fine like this.

[killugonficlibrary]

idk if these have been submitted yet but

- its by your side i make my home

- revenge is best served sweet

- & i said to the star “consume me”

- like storms in the summer

- let me love those bruises out of you

- of all the stars in the sky you see me (fav out of all of these)

- winner x winner

- handle me soft

- come as you are (& ill love you like that)

all written by miah_kat @sawamura-daichis-thighs !!!

my absolute fav killugon fics, all short one shots and so cuteee

this author also has some cute leopika fics too!

Featured Writer: Miah_Kat

9 Works.

of all the stars in the sky, you see me ( G | 3,058 | 1/1 )

“Does it bother you?” Gon asks, tilting his head to pin Killua with a wide-eyed look. His tone is genuinely concerned as he assures, “I can stop if you don’t like it.”

No, is his immediate reaction and, to his continued mortification, his mouth blurts it out without his permission. He shoves his hands in his pockets, ducking his chin to glare at the dirt as he mutters, “I mean, I don’t…mind it.” He glances back up at his friend through his fringe to find a delighted smile aimed his way, wide and bright and captivating. His heart leaps in his chest at the sight.

it's by your side i make my home ( G | 3,505 | 1/1 )

Gon giggles against his neck, smile pressed sweetly against Killua’s pounding pulse, and he can’t help but think he’d like to have more evenings like these. Nights spent on the couch together, talking about everything and nothing, Gon’s icy toes tucked under his thighs despite the fire just a few feet away. Evenings dancing around each other in the kitchen as dinner cooks, or waking up on the weekends to breakfast, or hastily packing lunches for one another when they’re running late for their next hunt. He wants all of them, mornings and afternoons and nights together, for as long as Gon will have him to share them.

revenge is best served sweet ( G | 1,747 | 1/1 )

Alluka knows full well that her brother would never call Gon ‘svet moyego serdtsa’ to his face if the boy had even an inkling of what the words meant.

It’s both amusing and frustrating. They’re both so obviously head-over-heels for each another and yet they continue to dance around the root of it all, always toeing the line that separates friends from lovers (a line that’s already sufficiently blurred), hearts still bruised tender by the past. She hopes that this fresh start will allow them to finally take that final step towards being happy together.

& i said to the star, "consume me" ( G | 1,320 | 1/1 )

There’s glitter on his face, a sparkle that plays hide-and-seek between highlight of the moon and shadows of the night. It enhances his beauty, the swell of his cheeks and the cupid bow of his lips; his eyelashes and hair shimmer with it, like a fresh snow or—

Gon can’t help but reach out, cupping Killua’s cheek so that he meets his gaze. His blue eyes are shadowed navy in the dark, wide with confusion.

“You’re like a star,” Gon breathes, awestruck. Even with just the moon’s pale glow, he can see the pastel pink that spreads over Killua’s face, a familiar warmth against his palm. Before Killua can protest, he murmurs, “Can I make a wish?”

Killua’s lips tilt up at that, what must seem like a corny, childish request. He indulges him with an affirming hum.

Gon takes a steadying breath, inhales slowly and holds it in his lungs for a moment before wishing, “Stay with me forever.”

like storms in summer ( T | 3,000 | 1/1 )

A sharp elbow in his gut distracts him, then Killua’s reprimanding tone as he scolds, “Watch the movie, perv.”

“But Killua,” Gon whines, drawing out the last vowels of his boyfriend’s name petulantly, “I missed you and the movie is boring anyway.”

“Hey!” Killua complains, turning in his hold enough to meet his gaze with a mock glare. “Take that back.”

“No,” Gon replies stubbornly, tightening his arms around Killua’s waist. He can see the familiar glint of mischief in those blue eyes, so he knows Killua isn’t actually upset about the insult to his favorite film. He’s just about to continue where he left off when Killua moves away, deliberately avoiding his advances if his smirk is any indication.

Gon whines his name again, trying in vain to kiss his boyfriend. Killua masterfully eludes him despite never leaving the circle of Gon’s arms.

“Take it back,” he demands again, poking Gon in the side, just below his ribs. He jumps reflexively, narrowing his eyes at the competitive tone. “Or I’ll make you.”

Heat flares in his stomach at those words, anticipation coursing through his veins as he goads back, “So make me.”

let me love those bruises out of you ( T | 2,296 | 1/1 )

“I’m not afraid of Killua,” Gon assures earnestly, putting every ounce of love and trust into his tone that he can. Killua still doesn’t budge, stubbornly holding on to his misplaced sense of protection. He’s so kind, Gon thinks a little sadly, that even in the midst of his own turmoil he thinks first of keeping Gon safe. So Gon waits patiently. He’s willing to sit here all night until Killua gives him his hand; he refuses to allow Illumi’s lies to take root any deeper than they already have.

His best friend knows him well enough to realize he’s fighting a losing battle because eventually he gives in with a heavy sigh, offering his hands reluctantly. Taking them in his own, Gon wastes no time in bringing one to his lips to place a kiss to his palm. Killua jolts at the touch as if shocked by his own electricity.

“G-Gon, don’t.” He shifts uneasily, even tries to tug his hands back again as he eyes Gon with an uncertain, wary gaze. His next words are so soft that they’re barely audible when he mumbles, “They’re dirty.”

winner x winner ( T | 2,124 | 1/1 )

What are you doing? he wants to ask, but the words lodge themselves in his throat; he can feel his heartbeat in his fingertips. If you touch me like this, I’ll—

“Killua looks good with his hair like this,” Gon murmurs absently, almost like he’s thinking aloud, trailing his hand higher still until he’s carding his fingers through the longer curls. His eyes dart over, lower, and his hand follows until he’s fingering one of the piercings in Killua’s ear. His touch is soft against the sensitive skin; it’s all Killua can do not to shiver.

“And these, too,” Gon adds. Is it Killua’s imagination or was his tone kind of breathy? But that wouldn’t make sense—Gon doesn’t—

He tries to respond, licks his lips in an attempt to despite not knowing what to say, but then Gon’s gaze snaps down to lock on his mouth.

handle me soft ( G | 3,029 | 1/1 )

“Because Killua deserves to be spoiled,” Gon answers matter-of-factly, eyes lifting to meet his again and staying. Killua’s certain his face is way too red to blame on the lukewarm bathwater, so he turns away from the earnest look to face the wall again. Gon giggles knowingly behind him.

“I don’t,” he mumbles, wishing his hair wasn’t slicked back with suds so he could hide behind his fringe. He feels especially vulnerable right now, even with Gon at his back.

“You do.” Gon insists, tone brooking no argument as he starts to rinse the soap away. He reaches forward to tilt Killua’s head for him again. “Killua helps me all the time. The least I can do is wash your hair now and then.”

come as you are (& i'll love you like that) ( G | 2,523 | 1/1 )

It makes his heart ache, knowing Killua doesn’t truly know tenderness. That he hasn’t experienced contact that’s soft on his skin just because he deserves to be touched without having bruises left in the wake of it.

When he first realized it, Gon wanted to reach out and gather his friend close, wanted to offer an open palm and urge, Here, see? You’re safe. I’ll take care of you. But he noticed the rigid set of his best friend’s shoulders, the flex of his sharp fingers and the aversion of his eyes, and knew he would have to earn that right.

very demure & mindful of you to recommend these. i had no idea the Miah_Kat one-shot fluff kingdom existed, and my existence = infinitely better after reading every last one of these. their use of languages is so unique & heartwarming.

thank you so much for for rec ! (& for the library's first ever "featured writer" post. you guys can check out the new page dedicated to featured writers by clicking here.)

~ gabs ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

[haejaetae-recs]

My favorite from this series <3

cat & mouse

❝ rule number one of bro code states that sisters are completely off-limits, and, y/n, we just pushed that limit. ❞

PAIRING ▸ na jaemin x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ smut, crack, fluff, college au, friends with benefits au

WARNINGS ▸ lots of !! sexual tension !! and jaemin acting like a dick, protective big brother!jaehyun, lots of sneaking around, jaemin calls you princess a lot, teasing, fingering, alcohol consumption, hooking up, thigh riding, smut, oral sex, aftercare

SUMMARY ▸ tired of meaningless hookups and dull parties, na jaemin had always been hesitant to indulge himself. that is, of course, until he met you. however, upon realizing you’re none other than jeong jaehyun’s little sister, jaemin has to keep his relationship with you under wraps to make sure his team captain doesn’t find out. 

PLAYLIST ▸ move! by niki • playinwitme by kyle (feat. kehlani)

WORD COUNT ▸ 17713 words

TAG LIST ▸ @chubsluda​ @celestialchans​ @treasurestay​ @luvlyjaemin​ @lanadreamie​ @kylomeyon​ @taehinsano​ @jenotation​ @ovelha-colorida-v​ @hrjflrt​ @to-blessed-2-be-stressed​ @honeyju​ @chanluster​ @sweetjaemss​ @najaemsenthusiastttt​ @neovrse​ @jjikyuu​ @treasurestay​ @ahgastayzen​ @wcnderlandss​ @jaehy9ngs​ @jaemxins​ @syhznanny​ @lilminyoongles​ @bbnana​

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ thank you so much for all of your love and support !! it’s beyond me & i hope you guys enjoy this ! part of the dunk shot! series but it can be read separately ♡

NA JAEMIN HATED PARTIES.

In the same vein, he hated basketball to an extent. It wasn’t the sport itself that he despised, it was the commitments that followed it. As a vital player on the team, he was obligated to attend every afterparty despite how much he loathed parties. Yet, what he couldn’t stand was being nagged by his teammates, so Jaemin went to the parties. He went to the parties and drank until he was numb and the party was tolerable.

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[starlightkun]

❧ word count: 11.8k ❧ warnings: cursing ❧ genre: fluff, modern magical creatures au, fantasy au, college au if you squint, werewolf jeno, human reader, ft. various other magical dreamies & neos and human!renjun (and an extra special guest appearance), hybrid au adjacent? (you’ll see what i mean, but i swear he’s a big bad werewolf), same universe as strawberry sunday ❧ extra info: this work is set in the same universe as strawberry sunday but can be read as a standalone! there is no continuing plotline between fics in this universe, they simply take place in the same world/magic system and may have overlapping characters (neos may pop up in more than one work!) ❧ author’s note: and here’s werewolf jeno too! continuing my big baby jeno agenda in this one so please take care of him, y’all <;33 ❧ sequel

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ explore the strawberry sunday universe more here!

Your friend’s eye roll was practically audible over the phone. “Just because I’m a Magical Creature Studies major doesn’t mean I’m a werewolf doctor, Y/N. I study them in a sociocultural context—”

“He’s grown ears and a tail, Renjun. Not wolf ones.”

Unlocking the back door to the bakery, you flicked on the light switch by the doorway. Immediately, the kitchen was illuminated, and you dumped your bag on a stool to root through it. You secured your navy blue apron from inside it, putting it over your neck then fastening the straps around your waist, now ready to start your opening checklist. The idea of a 4 a.m. opening shift should’ve made you shudder, but you always came into Half Moon Bakery with a bounce in your step despite the distinct lack of sunlight.

The first thing was to preheat the ovens: separate ones for yeast breads that needed more moisture, and sweets like cookies, muffins, and cakes that didn’t. You took the yeast doughs out of the fridge first that you’d prepared yesterday. It was all muscle memory, turning and shaping the dough with your hands and bread scraper. After shaping loaf after loaf after loaf, you put those aside for their final proof, then started on the sweets. Some had also been prepared the night before by the closing shift, whichever cookie doughs needed to sit overnight before being shaped. In the mornings, you mixed up the doughs and batters that didn’t need to be chilled prior to baking.

By the time the bread was finished proofing, you had usually at least spooned out your first batch of cookies as well. Those went in the sweets ovens first, then you turned to scoring the loaves before putting those in the bread oven. And it was usually at this point that you were entirely on autopilot, operating solely on dings of timers, no other units of time or place really having meaning to you.

You only knew that it was 6 a.m. when your coworker arrived. The employee entrance opened again while you were setting a hot pan of blueberry lemon scones down, Lee Jeno stepping through. He pushed some of his hair out of his eyes sleepily, lifting a hand in your direction in greeting.

“Morning, Jeno!” You chirped, pausing the music blaring from your phone.

He mumbled something akin to ‘morning’ back as he dropped his own apron around his neck then fumbled with tying the knot around his waist.

“You are never going to be a morning wolf, huh?” You sighed, grabbing the other pans that were in the oven.

“No,” he shook his head. “‘S too early.”

“What if I told you, that I…” You set down the pan of chocolate chunk cookies you just took out, then darted over to a different counter. A plate was there, a single broken sugar cookie on it. If the cookie were whole, it would have been half-dipped in chocolate to look like a half-moon. But alas, this one didn’t make it.

You held the plate out towards Jeno. “…Saved you a discard.”

The werewolf visibly perked up at this. “Really?”

“It’s not peanut butter, sorry.”

He rushed over to take the plate from you. “I can have it?”

“Yeah, Jeno,” you chuckled. “I accidentally snapped it trying to take it off the baking sheet. Better it go in this garbage disposal than the actual garbage.”

You poked his stomach on the word ‘this,’ earning an indignant scowl from him. Which didn’t have the intended effect, as he already had stuffed the entire cookie in his mouth.

“Thanks, Y/N,” Jeno said once he’d swallowed the food in his mouth. “I didn’t have much for breakfast.”

“Oh?” You frowned as you returned to your station, starting on preparing the icings to drizzle over the batches you’d just taken out. Werewolves usually had quite the appetite compared to humans, Jeno must be starving. “Were you running late or something? You could’ve eaten, I wouldn’t have minded if you were a couple minutes late.”

“No, I just… I don’t know, wasn’t that hungry.” He shrugged, starting to go about his own opening tasks.

“Who are you and what have you done with Jeno?” You pointed a whisk at him accusatorily as he opened up the storeroom.

He laughed. “I’m serious, though. It was weird, I made breakfast but when I sat down to eat I just… didn’t want to.”

“You seemed to handle that cookie just fine at least.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, voice slightly muffled as he took a couple steps inside the storage room to tally up the ingredients. “I don’t think I’d ever be able to turn down your baking, Y/N.”

You grinned to yourself as you whisked up the lemon icing for the scones. “Aw, thanks, Jeno.”

“Seriously, I don’t know how Mr. Minseok and I managed before you came along.”

“You seem to be forgetting that Minseok bakes. And very well, too,” you scoffed, referring to your sphinx boss. He had started the bakery by himself some years ago and Jeno had been his very first hire when he realized he couldn’t handle the front and back at the same time. You’d only started at the bakery a little less than a year ago, having been a passionate home baker who needed extra income now that you were in school. It was the summer right now though, between spring and fall semesters so you found yourself at the bakery most days.

“I know, I know. But like half our menu is your recipes now. And you improved some of Mr. Minseok’s.”

“Okay, improved is a choice word there, I streamlined the process a litt—”

Jeno emerged from the storeroom with a big sack of flour over his shoulder, and you completely lost the rest of that sentence as your eyes were drawn like magnets to where the muscles in his arm flexed and tensed. The sleeve of his white t-shirt—the same one you were wearing, with a small half-moon embroidered above the cuff—strained a little around the bulge of his bicep, veins crisscrossing his skin like roots of a tree.

“Y/N?” Jeno tilted his head curiously. This was truly so unfair; he was simultaneously looking like a confused puppy while holding a bag of flour one-handed that would take two humans to carry normally. “That’s a lot of icing on that scone.”

You looked down at where your hand had frozen over a scone, the spoon that you’d been drizzling icing with now pooling and entirely covering one with it instead. “Oh, shit!”

Picking up the scone, you held it over the icing bowl to shake and scrape off as much as you could, taking a few deep breaths.

“Anyway, this is our last bag of bread flour, and we’ve only got half a bag of whole wheat. We need to order some more?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You kept a laser focus on the scones as you went back to drizzling, refusing to look up at Jeno or his stupid big, stupid strong werewolf muscles. “Uhm, two bags of bread flour, one whole wheat. And how are we looking on all-purpose?”

“Still got three bags.”

“Order a bag of that just in case.”

“Heard, chef!” You could see him salute you in your peripheral vision before disappearing back in the storeroom.

After finishing his back of the house opening tasks, Jeno went to start to open the front of the bakery. You, very thankfully, didn’t do much in the front of the house. People in general were alright, but you’d much rather deal with dough and batter, and hear secondhand from Jeno how much everyone supposedly enjoyed what you baked and how delicious they apparently thought it was. You still had a job, so you figured that the customers liked your food just fine, at least. Sometimes you’d be called in as a very last resort to cover a front house worker’s shift, but usually the only times you ever emerged from the kitchens was to drop new batches off in the cases, then you’d disappear again.

Jeno popped in and out to take the food out to the display cases as it got closer and closer to opening, then dropped off an empty tray without picking up a new one.

“T-minus ten minutes until opening,” he informed you with a bright smile, disappearing back through the swinging door to the front for the last time this morning.

You knew it was 7 a.m. when you heard the quaint coffee shop playlist Jeno always put on start to filter in from the front. There wasn’t always a customer right at opening, so you usually relied on the music to reorient yourself in time. Chatter from the front would rise and fall as waves of customers came in and left, but you just kept working on your batches and washing up between them. Now with the bulk of your baking done for the morning, you had a lot of cleaning to do.

Minseok’s arrival let you know that it was 8 a.m., you were already 4 hours into your shift. Your boss came in through the employee entrance as you were dipping some now cooled half-moon cookies in chocolate.

“Morning, Minseok!” You greeted him with a grin.

“You know, Y/N,” he stopped in the middle of the kitchens to turn to you. “I will never doubt my decision to hire you. You know why?”

“Uh... why?”

“Who else could I possible give the 4 a.m. opening shift to and they would still give me such a nice greeting every single time?” He chuckled. “You should’ve seen Jeno’s face the first time I told him what time I open the bakery at.”

“Oh, yeah, he doesn’t seem to be a morning person.”

“You kidding me? Kid asks for the morning shift now,” he snorted, shuffling over to inspect the cookies you were dipping. “Jeno used to be about ready to rip my throat out with his teeth whenever I had him open with me.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Really?”

“Really,” he confirmed. “Though that was the early days of the bakery, you know, when he was just my hormonal teenage summer hire because I was doing his dad a favor and needed someone to work the register while I baked.”

“Now it’s almost like you two are a real business or something.”

Minseok laughed, his sharp canines glinting in the fluorescents. “Almost. Anyway, I’ll be in the office. Holler if you need me.”

You knew it was 11 a.m. when another coworker arrived. It usually cycled between a few different front house workers, and today it was Donghyuck, a dryad friend of Jeno’s who was a newer hire. You waved at him as best you could with two soapy hands, cleaning while a new batch of bread dough bulk proofed. A second front house worker usually came in a little before the lunch rush to help out, make sure whoever opened could take their break, and take over when their shift finished.

A little while later, Jeno came into the back, stretching and groaning. He took his apron off, hanging it on a hook against the wall by Minseok’s office door.

“That time already?” You asked knowingly.

“Yep. Lunch?” Jeno grabbed his keys from his pocket, spinning them around on his finger.

“Wish I could, but these loaves are going to finish proofing in like half an hour,” you sighed wistfully.

“I’ll go bring something back for us.”

“Oh, Jeno, you should go enjoy your lunch break away from work,” you tried to insist.

He made a face. “All by myself? How would I enjoy that? No, I’d rather hang out with you. Now, what do you want?”

Sat on two stools in the small, usually unused breakroom attached to the kitchen with Jeno, you bit into your sandwich gleefully.

“How do you not get tired of bread after working here?” He asked, peeling up one of the slices of his own sandwich.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I just like it. Isn’t that kind of part of the job requirements?”

“Mm... good point.”

You were halfway through your sandwich when you realized that Jeno had barely taken a bite of his. The most he’d done was pick a little bit at the fillings, but he really had just been chatting with you. Normally he would have already devoured his, and been pretending not to be eyeing yours.

“Jeno? Aren’t you going to eat?” You asked, gently pushing the food towards him by the wrapper.

He wrinkled his nose in disgust. “I don’t... want to...”

You set your lunch down. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I feel fine,” he nodded. “I’m just not very hungry.”

Concerned, you stood up and headed towards the door that led back into the kitchen. “Wait here.”

You went over to the cooling racks, searching for a specific tray of cookies. You pulled off a peanut butter cookie and walked back over to the werewolf, holding it out towards him. He sat up a little straighter, but it wasn’t the usual ecstatic reaction he had to his favorite kind of cookie.

“Here,” you pushed it in his hand. “You can have it.”

To your relief, he didn’t hesitate to eat half of it in one bite. His eyes crinkled into familiar little crescents as he happily munched on the cookie, quickly polishing off the other half.

Minseok approaching your station from the front typically let you know that was mid afternoon, about time for your shift to end as well. His schedule was variable, it depended on what kind of administrative duties needed to be done, and whether or not he needed to help out in the front or back at all that day.

The sphinx stopped across the counter from you as you put away clean utensils that you didn’t need anymore. “Hey, it’s too slow today. I already sent Donghyuck home and I’m having Jeno close the front. Go home once you’re done cleaning up.”

He was walking towards the back door when you suddenly thought of something. “Oh, Minseok!”

“Yeah?” Your boss stopped, his hand almost on the handle.

“I actually wanted to ask if I could stay after my shift and test a new recipe?”

“Sure. What kind?”

“New flavor of brownie?”

“Hm. If all goes well, it can be a limited flavor. Keep Jeno to taste test.”

You grinned, already planning on doing that yourself. After all, this recipe really was for him. “Will do, thank you!”

“Call if you need anything. Bye, Y/N.”

“Bye, Minseok!” You sent him off for the day with an enthusiastic wave.

Jeno came into the back just a few minutes later, tossing a washcloth into the laundry basket. “You need any help back here?”

“Yes, actually.” You couldn’t hide your beaming smile.

“Oh no,” he groaned. “What is that smile? We’re getting off early and you’re happy about giving me more work?”

“You can go if you want...” you sighed teasingly. “If you really don’t want to help me taste test the peanut butter brownies I’m about to make.”

He gasped, face immediately lighting up, “You’re making what?”

“Yep, the test kitchen is open this afternoon. But, since you want to leave work early, I guess I won’t have my trusty taste tester this time.” You let out another comically deep sigh, shutting away mixing bowls into cabinets. “And to think... all that peanut butter just going to waste... I guess I could give some to Sungchan. I know he says it’s not a werewolf thing to like peanut butter but—”

“Y/N!” Jeno cut in with a whine, grabbing your arm. “I’m staying! I’m your taste tester!”

You couldn’t help but giggle, turning to your friend and patting his cheek, “I know, Jeno. Now come on, help me put this stuff away and we can get started.”

Despite having worked at a bakery for a few years, Jeno didn’t know much about baking. He knew what the different kinds of baked goods that the store offered were, but he didn’t do any of the cooking. Mostly his role in your little test kitchens was to just taste test. And when your arm got tired of mixing sometimes, you’d pass the batter and spoon off to him. Sure, you had electric mixers for that kind of stuff, but for small batches like this, you preferred to just do the mixing by hand.

This time, you were making brownies swirled with peanut butter and with mini peanut butter cups in them. It was something Jeno had been begging for nearly as long as you’d been working at Half Moon. It had been sort of always in the back of your mind to get around to eventually, but Jeno’s disturbing lack of appetite today had finally spurred you into action.

As you folded the mini peanut butter cups into the brownie batter, you saw a hand snake under your arm towards the batter.

“Hey,” you gently pushed Jeno’s hand away from the mixing bowl. “That’s unsanitary, Jeno.”

“We’re not serving it to customers!”

You shook your head, pouring the batter into the square pan. Turning back to Jeno, you handed him the big mixing spoon, still coated in batter.

“Here.”

As he happily went to work licking the batter off the spoon, you put the finishing peanut butter swirls and mini peanut butter cups on top, popped the pan into the preheated oven, then set the timer.

“Alright, now we wait,” you declared, grabbing your hand towel off your shoulder and wiping a stray dollop of batter off the back of your hand.

“And by wait, you mean…”

You latched onto his forearm, the hand of which was holding a now batter-free mixing spoon, and hauled him over to the sink, which was filled with the dirty dishes from preparing the brownie batter. “I mean active waiting, of course. Come on, Jeno, do you want to wash or dry? I’ll let you pick, I’m feeling extra nice today.”

He sighed, nudging you over towards the other side of the sink, “I’ll wash today.”

Your eyebrows shot up as he turned on the faucet and picked up the sponge, squirting a small amount of dish soap on it. Normally if either of you were given your pick, you’d take drying, hands down. No chance of touching gross wet food, no soapy smelling hands, and no pruned fingertips. Drying was clearly the superior task.

But you were never one to look a gift horse in the mouth—or a gift werewolf, you supposed—so you grabbed a clean dish towel.

By the time you two were done with the dishes, the brownies were only about halfway done. So you did Jeno’s preferred method of waiting: passive waiting. Grabbing two chairs from the dining area, you sat down right in front of the oven, the interior light on, and watched them bake.

“And you’re sure liking peanut butter isn’t a werewolf thing?” You double-checked.

“I’m sure.” He confirmed with a chuckle.

“Okay, because you like really like it. Don’t get me wrong, Jeno, it’s endearing. But it’s practically supernatural how much you like it.”

“Well, it kind of is.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know that werewolves have heightened senses, right? Compared to most other creatures. Other than vampires, I guess…”

“Well, yeah.”

“Sight, hearing, smell, taste…”

“Touch?” You asked curiously. That one was always left out of whatever werewolf lore you’d hear about.

“Oh, sure. I like really fuzzy blankets.”

You couldn’t help but smile fondly at the image of Jeno bundled up in a bunch of fuzzy throw blankets.

Jeno continued on with his justification of his love for peanut butter. “So, when I find something that I like the taste of, I really like it. At least, compared to a human, you know.”

“Because you taste it a lot more strongly than humans do.”

“Yeah!” He beamed at you.

“Got it. That makes sense. And you just happen to like peanut butter, like some humans will like peanut butter-flavored stuff more than others.”

“That’s part of why I like working here so much, too. Everything you make smells so good.”

“Aw, thanks, Jeno. I like working here too. You’re one of the easiest coworkers I think I’ve ever had. Aside from the incessant begging for peanut-butter flavored menu items.” You lightly flicked his ear, your tone teasing.

“I’m sorry!” He rushed to apologize.

“I’m kidding. Like I said, it’s endearing.” You waved off his apology. There were a few beats of silence, the two of you continuing to stare at the brownies. Something he said had stuck in your brain, though. “You said that was only part of why you like working here. What’s the other part?”

“Uhm…” Jeno’s eyes widened, flicking between you and the brownies nervously. “You know, Mr. Minseok is a really great boss! He’s super easy about asking for time off, and making the schedule around our classes and finals and stuff!”

“Yeah, Minseok’s great…” You agreed, eyeing your friend suspiciously. He was absolutely lying. Not about your boss being a good boss, Minseok really was great, but that definitely wasn’t what he meant when he said that just then.

But then the oven timer went off, and you decided not to press the matter any further. If Jeno wanted to be weird, that was his prerogative, you weren’t going to demand that he tell you something that he was clearly uncomfortable about.

Grabbing the dish with your oven mitts, you now transitioned into your least favorite part of doing test recipes with Jeno…

“Is it ready?”

“No, Jeno, it needs to cool down.”

“Oh.”

And just a minute later:

“Is it ready?”

“No, Jeno, still too hot.”

“Right.”

Two minutes later:

“Are you sure I can’t have just one bite?”

“It’s still steaming.”

“Okay…”

Another minute later:

“Y/N…”

“Jeno, I know you think I’m doing this because I’m a big meanie, but I promise it’s because I care about you and don’t want you to singe off all your tastebuds.”

“Fine.”

And finally, once he'd given up:

“Jeno!”

“They’re ready?!”

“Yes,” you confirmed, grabbing a knife and triangle server.

Serving Jeno up a corner piece, his favorite, onto a half-moon plate, you then dropped your own piece onto a full moon plate. After tapping your brownies together in a little cheers, you two took your first bites.

The brownie was still warm from the oven, fudgy, and gooey thanks to the swirls of peanut butter in there. You got a couple mini peanut butter cups in that bite that melted over your tongue. Altogether, you had to hand it to Jeno, this was a fantastic idea. It was missing a little something, though. Quickly grabbing a shaker from the counter, you dropped a couple flakes of coarse sea salt on top of just your brownie, then took another bite. Oh yeah, that was perfect.

Jeno had already polished off his brownie, and you could see him trying not to be obvious as he eyed the pan of seven others.

“That was really good, Y/N!” He praised you, eyes turning up into delightful crescents. “Like, I think the best thing you’ve ever made!”

“You say that with everything I make,” you pointed out, taking another bite.

“But this one’s seriously the best!”

“Because there’s peanut butter in it?”

“Well…”

“You can have another one, by the way.”

The sentence was barely out of your mouth before he had dished up another brownie. It didn’t even make it to his plate, instead going straight from pan to his mouth. You chuckled. Why did you even bother with dishes with him, honestly?

But really, it warmed your heart to see somebody enjoying your baking so honestly, so thoroughly, and unabashedly. You’d take a hundred customers like Jeno over any pompous pastry chef any day. And you were glad to see that his appetite was back.

He’d finished his second, and you guessed was about to go for his third when you stopped him.

“Jeno, hold on.” You grabbed his upper arm, looking around for a napkin or paper towel.

“What?” He asked, eyes on your hand that was on his arm, curious.

“You’ve got chocolate like, all over your face, dude.”

You’d finally secured a napkin, and stretched back to dampen it in the persistent drip from the sink faucet. Scooting your stool closer to Jeno, you leaned forward to get a better angle at your task. The werewolf jerked away, but you just clicked your tongue in your mouth and grabbed his chin to gently pull him back towards you.

“C’mere, Jeno. It’s just a little water,” you teased him, wiping away the brownie, chocolate, and peanut butter that were on his cheeks. “Don’t tell me the big bad wolf is scared of the equivalent of a baby wipe?”

“‘M not,” he mumbled as you dragged the wet napkin over the corner of his mouth.

You got a smear that was on the tip of his nose next, “How’d you get it up here anyway?”

He made a ‘I don’t know’ noise in the back of his throat, but stayed perfectly still as you moved back to scrutinize your work. Jeno’s face and ears were definitely much pinker, and he was looking straight up at the ceiling.

“Oh, missed a spot,” you sighed, bringing the napkin up one more time to the curve of his bottom lip. “There, Jeno, all good to go.”

It was then that your heart seemed to have caught up with the rest of the team, as you froze where you were. Jeno’s eyes were locked on yours, his warm breath hitting your face as he took shallow, quick breaths. Your blood roared in your ears. You were so close to him, your hand was still holding his chin, if you just—

Before you could actualize that thought, Jeno let out a yelp, tucking his chin to his chest and curling in on himself in pain.

“Jeno?” You stood up, panic overtaking you as he let out something closer to a grunt this time. “Jeno, are you okay?”

He keeled forward into you, and you easily caught him. Easing him off the stool and onto the ground with you, you sat down, cradling him to your chest as he still wasn’t responding.

“Jeno, what’s wrong?” You asked, carding a hand through his dark hair soothingly.

“It hurts, Y/N,” he whimpered.

Your heart broke at how distressed he sounded. “What hurts, Jeno?”

“Everything!” The werewolf wailed.

“Oh my god, okay. Shh, shh,” you tried to calm him back down, still stroking his head. Pressing the back of your hand to his forehead, you swore he felt warmer than normal. Werewolves naturally had higher body temperatures than humans, but he felt hot. “How bad? Do you need to go to the doctor? Should I call someone? What do you need from me, Jeno?”

“Don’t go!”

“I didn’t say I was going anywhere. But you need somebody else.”

“No I don’t—”

“Jeno—” Your sentence stopped in its tracks as your hand that had been running through his hair suddenly bumped into something. Turning your eyes back down from the ceiling to the werewolf in your arms, your eyes widened comically when you saw two fuzzy white ears emerging from the mop of dark hair atop his head. Trailing further down, you saw a fluffy white tail, too.

“I don’t need anybody else,” Jeno insisted.

“Jeno.” You stated quietly, desperately trying to maintain your composure. “I need you to listen to me. I’m not going to leave you. I’m not going anywhere. But we need to call somebody else to look at you.”

“Why?”

“You have ears and a tail.”

Jeno huffed. “I’m a werewolf, remember?”

“Are they always white and fluffy?”

He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, “No...”

“I’m going to call Renjun.” You decided, shifting so you could ease your phone out of your back pocket.

“Y/N!” Jeno buried his head in your lap.

“I’m not going anywhere, Jeno,” you reassured him, resting your free hand on his back. “I was just grabbing my phone.”

Dialing up the contact, you prayed that your friend wouldn’t be deep in a study session. Renjun had an annoying habit of being a good student and turning his ringer off when he studied. Finally, after way too many rings for your liking, he picked up.

“Hello?” Renjun picked up tersely. It sounded like there were other voices in the background.

“Hey, Renjun!” You put as much pep into your tone as you could muster. “Sorry, are you busy?”

“I’m at Chenle and Jisung’s, but we’re just watching movies.” He referenced two of their other friends, a fairy and dragon, respectively. You really just knew them from when they'd come into the bakery to (lovingly) pester Jeno. “What’s going on? I thought you and Jeno were working.”

“That’s why I’m calling.” While you felt bad interrupting their hangout, you had something a little more pressing. “I think Jeno’s sick.”

Your friend’s eye roll was practically audible over the phone. “Just because I’m a Magical Creature Studies major doesn’t mean I’m a werewolf doctor, Y/N. I study them in a sociocultural context—”

“He’s grown ears and a tail, Renjun. Not wolf ones.”

“I’m coming over right now.” And he hung up.

Jeno was still letting out little groans and whimpers every few minutes when you heard a knock at the rear employee entrance.

“It’s open!” You yelled out. It felt like you wouldn’t be very successful if you tried to get up right now.

Renjun threw open the door, eyes scanning the kitchen for a moment before they finally found you. The two of you were in the same position as before: you propped up against the cabinets, Jeno curled up nearly fetal, head in your lap as he clutched at whatever hurt. His stomach, his chest, his head. Everything.

He rushed over, face turning pained when he saw the state that Jeno was in. Squatting down beside the two of you, the human looked over your friend, but was careful not to touch him.

“He says that everything hurts, and I swear he’s running a fever.” You reported to Renjun. “In addition to, well, the obvious.”

Jeno’s feet scrambled for purchase against the concrete floor as he tried to curl up into an even tighter ball, holding his stomach.

“I know, Jeno, I know,” you murmured, stroking his back. “I’m sorry, I’m trying to help you get better. Just hold on.”

Renjun leaned towards his head, squinting at where the ears were growing out of his hair.

“You know... I’m surprised the other two didn’t come with you.” You commented, just to say something, to fill the silence.

Fae were naturally mischievous folk, there was no way Chenle would miss an opportunity to see Jeno with literal dog ears and a tail. And usually, wherever Chenle was, Jisung wasn’t far behind. From your understanding, dragons tended to be solitary creatures; however, according to Jeno, Jisung had taken a liking to the fairy some time ago and vice versa, and the two were inseparable ever since.

“I told them Jeno was throwing up. Didn’t mention the ears and tail.” The human scooted to inspect the tail next. “Now, I’m guessing he didn’t show up to his shift like this.”

“No, he was fine. We were testing a new recipe and then it just happened out of nowhere.”

Renjun sighed. “I think he’s just pupsick.” 

“What?”

“Pupsick. Usually only little werewolves get it, hence the name. It’d be kind of like if you or I got chickenpox. Like, we can get it, but usually only kids do. Pupsickness isn’t contagious to humans, by the way, so don’t worry about that.”

“Then how’d he get it?”

“Pups usually get it from each other, outbreaks will sort of crop up in daycares and classrooms. But the fact that Jeno’s got it… I don’t know for sure. Werewolf immune systems are practically superhuman once they’re adults, even to their own diseases. This one’s past my expertise. I’d call Sungchan, see if he knows anything.”

“Alright, I will. Thanks, Renjun.”

Renjun stood back up, then looked around the bakery. The half-eaten brownies were still on the countertop, not to mention you had your close-up checklist to do. “You should get him home, Y/N. Here, give me your keys, I’ll clean up here and lock up. I’ll put them under your mat when I’m done.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’d much rather be on bakery clean up duty than pupsick Jeno duty,” he nodded towards the werewolf. “Trust me, I don’t envy you.”

You gave him a half-hearted smile, then looked down at Jeno. He’d been quiet all throughout your conversation with Renjun, and you prodded him gently. “Jeno?”

“Yeah?” He mumbled.

“Can you stand up? I’m going to take you home.”

He let out a whine again, but this time higher pitched, sounding more like a petulant child than like he was actually in pain. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Come on, you’ll be so much more comfy at home in bed with all those fuzzy blankets, right?”

“Fine.” He dragged out the vowels, but scooted off of you to let you stand up.

“Alright, come on, Jeno,” you helped him get to his feet. “Now you’re going to have to walk there mostly of your own power. You’re a bit too solid for me to carry on my own.”

You patted his firm chest for emphasis. “If the stairs are going to be too much, let me know and I’ll make a couple calls. I think Sungchan and Jisung combined could probably get you up there. Maybe get Shotaro for good measure. I know sirens aren’t super strong like werewolves and dragons but—”

“No, I can do it,” he mumbled, looping an arm around your shoulders. “Don’t need… don’t need them.”

After untying both yours and Jeno’s aprons and handing them to Renjun, you took your bakery keys off your keyring to give those over as well, then wrapped one arm around Jeno’s waist and started guiding him over to the back door.

“Y/N,” Renjun caught your attention before you could push it open. “Don’t worry too much. It’s like a bad cold. He’ll just be really pitiful for a few days.”

“Right,” you nodded, mustering up a small smile. You were sure you looked frazzled still. “Thanks again, Renjun. We owe you one.”

“Free muffin and we’ll call it even.” He waved goodbye to you two. “Feel better, Jeno!”

It was thankfully a very short walk to Jeno’s apartment, he lived just around the corner. Once you got him inside, normally you would’ve been able to pass him off to his dryad roommate. But Jaemin was studying abroad for a month, as evidenced by the very droopy-looking plants around the living room.

“Here, let’s get you to bed, Jeno,” you murmured. “Which one’s yours?”

He pointed. “Left.”

Jeno’s room was surprisingly tidy. Though you weren’t sure if you were expecting it to be messy because he was a college boy, a werewolf, or based off his distaste of cleaning up at work. But regardless, you pulled back his covers and ushered him into bed.

“I’ll get you some ice water, you still feel really warm.” You told him, pressing your hand back to his forehead. “Do you want something to eat?”

“No. Don’t want you to go…” He grabbed your hand with both of his as you went to take it off his forehead, nuzzling his cheek against it this time instead.

Okay, his brain was definitely melting in there.

“I’ll be right back here, Jeno. You definitely need some water.” You shook him off as gently as possible. “I’m just going to your kitchen.”

Now free, you rushed to his kitchen, throwing open cabinets until you found one with cups, grabbing the first one your eyes landed on. You scooped ice in, then filled it up from the tap. Initially, you had planned on calling Sungchan while you did this, but you didn’t think Jeno would be that patient.

You speed-walked back down the hallway to his bedroom, finding the werewolf exactly where you left him, curled up in bed, staring at the doorway. You offered him as bright of a smile as you could, “Hey, Jeno! I’m back! Here’s your water.”

He lit up, moving to get up in bed, and you surged forward in concern.

“Woah, hey, are you good to do that, dude?” You asked, hands flitting over him nervously.

“‘M fine, Y/N, I’m fine. Just…” He yawned, covering his mouth. One of his ears twitched. “Really tired.”

“Well, drink this water first, please.” You lifted the glass to his mouth. His refusal of food was still worrying you, though. Werewolves had much higher metabolisms than humans, and the appetites to match. “Are you sure you don’t want something else? You ate hardly anything on break. Other than those brownies, the only thing you’ve had today was whatever you had at breakfast. It’s almost two…”

After gulping down half the glass, Jeno wiped his mouth and shook his head. “I’m not hungry.”

You sighed, patting his cheek and pressing the glass back to his lips. “Okay… Just let me know if you change your mind. I’ll make something or order something. Whatever you want.”

He took a couple more sips before pushing your hand away. “You’re- You’re not going to leave?”

His voice was hopeful, eyes round and pleading—literal puppy dog eyes—as he asked that. You shook your head.

“No, Jeno, I’m going to stay right here with you. I want to stay with you.” You set the cup on his nightstand, gently nudging him forward and further in to make room for you to scoot onto the bed behind him.

Jeno immediately flopped around onto his front, wrapping his arms around your middle and burying his nose into your stomach. You giggled, squirming around for a moment.

“Ah! Jeno, that tickled.”

He mumbled something that sounded like an apology into your lap, squeezing his eyes shut. Your hands dropped to his head, careful to avoid the two white ears there as you ran your fingers through his hair again.

Soon, his breathing evened out, and you stilled your hand. He was asleep.

It was dark when you woke up. You didn’t remember falling asleep in the first place, the last thing you remembered was scrolling on your phone and thinking to yourself how good a nap looked and sounded right now. Jeno was still wrapped around you, peacefully asleep, and you were slumped in the multitude of pillows at the head of the bed. There was a little crick in your lower back, and you had the urge to stand up and crack it. Your stomach growled, and good god you needed to pee.

You tried to sit back up all the way, but Jeno was remarkably heavy in his passed-out state, and you barely moved an inch. Flopping back down, you instead tried shaking him awake.

“Jeno. Jeno, hey,” you said softly. Your lips twitched in amusement when you saw one of his white dog ears perk up towards the sound of your voice. The rest of him didn’t move, though. You shook him with a little more gusto. “Jeno... come on.”

The other ear was at attention now, and you could feel a grumble start in his chest. You switched to lightly squeezing his human ears, sides, and whatever parts of his arms you could reach.

“Jeno! Up! Wake up!” You pleaded with each gentle pinch, finally feeling victorious when he recoiled after you got his nose.

He jerked an arm back to cover his face in his elbow as he sneezed three times in a row.

“Bless you!” You snickered, quickly pulling yourself into a cross-legged sitting position now that you had an opportunity.

“Ack! Y/N, what was that for?” Jeno complained, voice thick with sleep, sitting up as well.

“I needed you to move so I can go use the bathroom,” you snorted, scooting towards the edge of the bed.

Before your feet could touch the floor, a pair of arms had wrapped around your shoulders, and a nose was nuzzling into your neck. “Y/N...”

“Jeno...” You mimicked his tone in an attempt to cover up how the sudden contact had made your back stiffen. You almost tilted your head to the side on instinct to give him more space, but kept your spine pin-straight.

You half-heartedly tried to push at him. “Dude, seriously, I need to pee. And aren’t you hungry?”

“Not hungry.”

“For real?” You frowned, contorting awkwardly to look at his face as you tested for his temperature again. “You’re still burning up. Do you have a thermometer around here? What’s a werewolf’s temperature even supposed to be?”

“We don’t have a thermometer. ‘M fine.”

“I’ll believe that when you’re back to eating six meals a day, Lee Jeno.” You scoffed. “Now I am going to the bathroom, then I’m coming right back. Okay?”

“No!” He clung onto you tighter, and you swore you saw his eyes getting moist as his lower lip trembled.

“Jeno, I’ll be right back, okay? I pinky promise.” You held one of your pinky fingers out to him. He begrudgingly linked one of his with it before letting go of you.

“Thank you.”

You slipped down the hall quickly. After relieving your screaming bladder and washing your hands, you pulled out your phone, seeing that you had a couple texts. They were both from Renjun from several hours ago.

[renjun: locked up the bakery, keys under your mat. how’s jeno doing?]

Then, a couple hours later.

[renjun: hey, just double checking that you found your keys and that jeno got home okay.]

[you: sorry for not replying, he’s been a bit of a handful. i haven’t made it home yet to grab my keys, still at jeno’s. thanks for locking up and dropping my keys off tho!]

You briefly thought of calling Sungchan, but you were worried about Jeno. Poking your head out of the bathroom and back down the hall, you listened for any signs of life. You could hear him tossing and turning restlessly in bed. So he at least hadn’t fallen back asleep.

Your stomach growled again, taking center stage now that the more pressing need had been dealt with.

“Hey, Jeno,” you said loudly as you entered the room, already pulling up a food delivery app on your phone.

Jeno sat up at attention, and with the sheets falling away from him, you could see the fluffy white tail behind him wagging vigorously as he gave you possibly the brightest smile he’d had since this whole thing started. “Y/N!”

“Jeno!” You repeated his name with a bewildered chuckle. “Am I covered in peanut butter or something? What’s got you in such a good mood all of a sudden?”

“Can I not just be happy to see you?” He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. His tail kept wagging, though.

“No, you can. I was just curious.” You leaned against the doorway, scrolling through the restaurant options. “I think I’m going to order delivery. Which means you’ll have to let me go get it when it gets here. Do you think you can do that?”

He yawned and stretched. “No promises.”

“Alright.” You turned your phone off. “Let me go raid your pantry really quick. You do have food, right?”

“Yeah...” Jeno laid back down, his sudden burst of excitement seeming to be wearing off expeditiously.

Giving him a thumbs up, you took off down the hall again. Jaemin and Jeno’s pantry was fairly human-friendly. Jaemin left three weeks ago, so there weren’t many of his organic trail mixes and granola bars left. And of course, plenty of Jeno’s werewolf protein bars—to supplement when he just couldn’t get enough protein for what his diet naturally called for. But mostly there were snacks that you’d find in your own human apartment, which you were grateful for; you’ve had some unfortunate moments with friends of yours whose appetites didn’t line up as closely with humans. You still shuddered at the thought of the plate stacked with slimy kelp that you’d been offered by Sungchan’s siren roommate, Shotaro. Sungchan and you ordered pizza that night.

Grabbing a few things for yourself, a couple water bottles, you then headed back towards his room. You’d also snagged one of Jeno’s protein bars, maybe you could convince him to get something close to a meal in him.

“I’m back, I’m back,” you announced as you hurried in, dropping the snacks on the nightstand.

Jeno rolled over just enough for you to sit back in your same place against the headboard. As soon as you were settled in, he scooched to put his head in your lap.

“How are you feeling? Still hurting?” You asked, cracking open the first bottle, then the other.

“Yeah…” He rubbed at his eyes.

“Tired?” You stroked his bangs away from his face.

“Mhm.”

“What about your temperature? Still got that fever?” You leaned down to press your lips to his forehead before you realized what you were doing.

You froze halfway back up, eyes locked on Jeno’s. Letting his bangs fall through your fingers and back down onto his face, you forced out a chuckle.

“Sorry, uh, my mom always did that to check my temperature when I was sick as a little kid. Just, kind of happened,” you stammered out as you kept fixing his hair to cover his forehead back up. “Do- Do you feel hot, Jeno? Or cold? Like any sort of chills or hot flashes or anything?”

His whole face was pink, and you couldn’t remember if it was already like that from the fever or not. The werewolf blinked up at you a couple more times before answering your question.

“I’m cold.” He pulled one of the fuzzy blankets up to his chin then as if for emphasis.

“Okay. Alright, well if you’re tired, hurting, and cold, I think you should get back to sleep.” You smiled down at him, patting his chest over the blanket. “Can you just drink a little more water for me?”

After getting a couple sips in him, Jeno rolled over and was out like a light. Oh that looked nice. You would probably take care of your hungry stomach and then join him in dreamland, honestly. Today had been… a lot.

The thought of spending the night in Jeno’s bed made your stomach twist and turn, and you briefly considered creeping out to the couch. But if something happened to Jeno with this pupsickness and you weren’t there, you’d hate yourself forever. No, you needed to stay right by his side, as much for yourself as for him. And so, you grabbed some trail mix and prepared to settle in for a long night.

You were still munching on some of Jaemin’s trail mix when suddenly, your phone rang. You panicked, scrambling to grab it so that it didn’t wake Jeno up. The werewolf in your lap didn’t even stir as the loud ringer kept going, though.

Keeping an eye on him, you answered the call in a whisper, “Hello?”

“Y/N? Sorry, is this a bad time? I had a question about the lecture from yesterday.” It was Sungchan on the other end, your only other werewolf friend, and project partner in your Magical Botany I class.

“Hey, Sungchan. Uh, it’s sort of a bad time but also the perfect time.” You kept your voice low and quiet, holding the phone close to your mouth.

“Oh. And what does that mean?”

“You go first.”

“Can you send me the notes?”

“That’s all you needed to ask me?” You snorted. “The notes from yesterday?”

“Can you send me all of the notes? From the whole semester?” His voice was pleading, sounding like he was braced for ridicule.

“Are you kidding me?”

“The last full moon was rough, okay?”

“Used your Bot I notebook as a chew toy, huh?”

“Will you send me them?” He groaned.

“Yeah, yeah, it might be a little while though.”

“That’s fine! You said this was a bad time, right? Sort of?”

“Right.” You gently dabbed at Jeno’s sweaty forehead. “So I have a werewolf question…”

Sungchan paused, sighed, then said, “Because you’re you, and I know are therefore not about to ask me anything weird, I will entertain this. Go ahead.”

“Do you know why an adult werewolf might get pupsick?”

“Is Jeno okay?”

Sungchan didn’t know Jeno as well as you did— the two werewolves had met a couple times in passing, when your classmate would buy something from the bakery, or the two of you would bump into Jeno while studying at the library. But Sungchan mostly knew of him from you. You happily talked about your job, your sphinx boss, and werewolf coworker to your friends, so it wasn’t exactly a surprise that he was able to guess what this was about.

“Immediately blew my cover, huh?”

“It seemed like an awfully specific question.”

“Yes, Jeno’s pupsick. At least, according to Renjun.” You tested his temperature again, with your hand this time, on his cheek. He was still burning up, feeling very much like a heated, weighted blanket. “He’s exhausted, he’s moody, he doesn’t want to eat, he’s got a fever I think—”

“Wait, are you with him now?”

“Yeah, his roommate’s studying abroad for a month and I felt bad leaving him alone.”

“Those are his only symptoms? Sounds like he’s just got a cold.” Sungchan scoffed. “Why would Renjun say it’s pupsickness? Just because he’s a werewolf? Honestly—”

“Oh and he’s got ears and a tail.”

The other end of the call was silent for far too long. “Channie?”

“Ah. Yeah. He’s pupsick.” He confirmed.

“So… do you know why he’s got it? Renjun said that adult werewolves usually don’t get pupsick.”

“They don’t. Although I’m not surprised Jeno is.” 

“What? Why? Is he okay? Does he have like… a werewolf autoimmune disease or something? Do you guys have those?” 

“Jeno’s immune system is fine, Y/N,” your friend reassured you.

You relaxed again. “Oh, good.”

“It’s a combination of things that determines whether a werewolf gets pupsick or not. Yes, it’s our immune system, but one of the biggest symptoms of pupsickness is what you’re looking at: the partial shift.”

“The ears and tail.”

“Yeah. Pups can’t control their shifting yet because they’re more volatile emotionally and magically.” Sungchan walked you through it. “And like any other kids, they’re germ factories. So they get pupsick a lot more than adults do.”

“Then why’d Jeno get it? It’s not like he’s an education major or anything, he hasn’t been around any pups.”

“Adults usually get it when there’s something in their life that’s made them emotionally and magically volatile again.”

“Volatile?” You echoed, looking down at the peacefully napping wolf. He really just looked like an oversized puppy.

“You said he’s moody?”

“Mhm. Kind of… down? I don’t know, he’s not as bubbly as he normally is, you know? I could barely get him to let me get up to use the bathroom earlier, he looked like he was about to cry. And then when I came back, you’d think I brought him a jar of peanut butter or something he was so happy.”

“That’s what I mean, not like he’s going to snap and break a vase or something. And his shifting is obviously not in control either.”

“Well he’s going to get better, right?” You asked hopefully. “Renjun said it should just be a few days.”

“It is for pups.” 

Your stomach dropped. “That sounds like there’s going to be a but coming…”

“But for adults, they got sick because something in their life was out of balance.” Sungchan reiterated.

“So he’s going to be like this unless we get his life back in balance? I’ve got to what, sign him up for werewolf yoga or something?”

“Or wait until the next full moon. A full shift should do the trick to reset him.”

“Oh. When’s that?”

“Three weeks.”

“Three weeks?!” You couldn’t help the loud panic in your voice. One of Jeno’s ears flicked, and you held your breath as he shifted slightly, but ultimately stayed asleep.

Sungchan was still talking, “And there’s no promise that he won’t just catch it again if he’s still at unrest.”

“God, who knew you werewolves were so sensitive? You’re like orchids, you need a very specific soil pH or you’re going to die!” You hissed into the phone.

“We’re a very hardy species, actually. You know, if the Black Plague were to come back, humans would—”

“Yeah, I’m sure humans would all die out, and werewolves would inherit the Earth or whatever Revelations says.” You cut him off, all too used to his lectures on the differences between humans and werewolves. With a sigh, you determined that you’d gotten all the useful information you could from him. “Well, thanks, Sungchan.”

“Of course, Y/N.”

“Wait…”

“What?”

“Why did you say that you’re not surprised that Jeno’s pupsick then? Do you know what’s making him sick?”

“Y/N…” Your friend sighed. “You are so smart, and yet…”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ve only met Jeno a couple times, but the guy so clearly has a huge crush on you. A better name for what’s wrong with him would be that he’s lovesick, honestly.”

Your jaw dropped as your eyes were glued to Jeno’s peacefully sleeping features. “S-Seriously?”

While you’d had a creeping suspicion—you weren’t that stupid, no matter what Sungchan was implying—you were also a little worried that it was all in your head.

“Every time I see you two together, he’s all heart eyes for you, Y/N. I don’t know how you’re missing it.” Sungchan chuckled.

“Must be your superior werewolf eyesight,” you replied sarcastically.

“Must be.” He repeated humorously.

“So like… what should I do?”

“He’s your wolf, Y/N. Do what you will.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” You sputtered out, jolting up in your seat.

Sungchan’s cackling laughter came through your speakers as you felt Jeno shift and stir in your lap. He lifted his head up slightly as he mumbled out a very sleepy, “Y/N?”

“Oh my god, you woke Jeno up!” You snapped at the other werewolf at the phone. “I’ve got to go!”

“I woke him up? Oh really—”

You cut Sungchan’s incredulous words off by hanging up, then tossing your phone aside on the bed. Jeno had settled back down a little bit, and you scratched between his ears.

“Go back to sleep, Jeno,” you murmured quietly. “Back to sleep… Sweet dreams, baby.”

As he relaxed again, you started humming a familiar tune, a lullaby that your mom used to sing to you when you would wake her up in the middle of the night because you weren’t feeling well. You didn’t let up even after Jeno’s breathing had evened out again, keeping it going as you slowly shifted around until you were no longer sitting up, laying down now. Jeno’s head still laying on your midsection, a comforting pressure. The rest of him was under all his fuzzy blankets, and you made sure he was securely under them all, gave him one last head pat, then let your eyes flutter shut, drifting off still humming that lullaby to yourself.

It was bright out when you woke up. You sighed, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to roll over to bury your face into your pillow. Except there was a weight attached to your back, and a low whine right next to your ear. Your eyes flew open, and you quickly remembered that you were not in your own bed.

Which meant that— Yep, that was Jeno koala-hugging you from behind. He had a pout on his face even his sleep, which turned into a peaceful smile as soon as you’d given up on moving, relaxing back into him.

His two white dog ears were splayed out to the sides, and while they were very cute, they also worried you. Your conversation with Sungchan yesterday came back to mind. God, what the hell were you supposed to do about that?

“Hey, Jeno? You awake?” You asked softly, quiet enough that if he weren’t, he hopefully wouldn’t wake up.

“Mm… mhm,” he nodded his head against your back. “Yeah… ‘m up.”

You turned over onto your back in Jeno’s arms, then feeling for his temperature on what part of his forehead that you could get to. “How are you feeling?”

“Still sleepy…” He muttered, the words muffled against your collarbone from where he had readjusted to nestle his face into the crook of your neck.

“Sorry if I woke you up,” you hummed, stroking his head. “You can go back to sleep.”

“Who were… who were you talking to?”

“When— Oh, last night. Sungchan. I was trying to figure out how to make you better.”

He made a noncommittal noise of acknowledgement, and for a brief moment you thought he might’ve fallen asleep again, until he looked up at you with the most heart-stopping, big, round eyes.

“Uhm, he said that when you shift on the full moon, that’ll probably kind of reset everything.”

“But the next full moon’s in…” he let out a yawn, punctuated by a sniffle. “Three weeks. I don’t know if I can take feeling like this for another three weeks.”

You rubbed a hand up and down his back soothingly, “I know, Jeno, I’m sorry. He did say something else.”

The werewolf’s animal ears perked up. “Something else?”

“Well, he was telling me about why adult werewolves get pupsick when its usually only pups who get it.”

“But I haven’t done anything to throw off my spiritual balance,” he whined. “I think… I mean, I haven’t pissed off any witches that I can think of, my shift on the last full moon went great, and everyone in my pack back home is okay.”

“Well, Sungchan said that it could be something personal, too. Not exactly related to werewolf stuff. Any kind of serious rift in your life, you know.” You tried to paraphrase your friend’s explanation as best you could without the heavy implications that he had. “Can you think of anything like that?”

“No...” he dragged out the vowel. “Just—”

Jeno suddenly stopped in the middle of his sentence, going still in your arms.

“Just? Just what?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing.”

“Clearly it’s not nothing,” you said pointedly, giving one of his dog ears a gentle tap. He fidgeted a little, but didn’t move away from your touch.

He shook his head. “No.”

“No?”

“It’s going to ruin everything.” Jeno just sounded utterly defeated now, refusing to look up at you. “I’m going to ruin everything again.”

You were ashamed to say that you were gobsmacked in that moment. You took a deep breath, desperately trying to throw together any kind of acceptable response.

“What are you talking about, Jeno?” You needed more information.

“I always break stuff, and I get too excited, and I don’t stop, and I’m too much and that’s not even on the full moon!” Jeno rambled. “I always have to replace my stuff because I tear it or break it or chew it or crush it and I don’t even realize and—”

“Jeno, Jeno, Jeno, woah, woah,” you shushed him firmly but kindly, hearing in his voice that he was getting himself too worked up. “It’s not like you’re Godzilla out here leveling cities or anything, okay? You’re not ruining anything, and you’re not too much or whatever stupid stuff you’ve been told before. Don’t be offended, but I honestly can’t imagine you as some big bad wolf blowing houses down and eating little piggies.”

The dog ears on his head perked up, and he sniffled again. “Really?”

“Really,” you confirmed, scratching behind one of the animal ears. Under the sheets, you could see that the dog tail had started wagging back and forth. “I mean, you’ve been curled up in my arms like an overgrown puppy for over twelve hours now.”

You had expected him to have some kind of objection to you calling him an overgrown puppy, but instead he just seemed to melt even more into your hold, his eyes fluttering shut as a lopsided, content smile took over his features. Seeing him so relaxed almost made you rethink your want to press the issue.

“Was that it? Do you think that’s what was wrong to make you pupsick?”

Jeno let out a heaving sigh, and his eyes opened again as the smile fell from his face. “No. But fixing my pupsickness is just going to ruin something else. Something really important.”

“You can’t stay like this forever, Jeno.”

“What? You don’t like the ears?” He joked with a dry chuckle.

“They’re cute, but not so much if they’re a symptom of you being so sick.” You habitually checked for his temperature on his forehead again (hot, as expected), then wrapped both your arms around his shoulders tightly. “Now, humans don’t exactly have pupsickness, but when we get really stressed out in work or school, it puts too much stress on our bodies and our immune systems, and we get sick more easily too. It makes us take a break and take care of ourselves. Whatever’s wrong, it’s not sustainable for you and clearly your body knows that too.”

“Yeah… I know.”

“So? What is it? Can I help?”

The werewolf shifted in your hold, and you loosened your arms to let him sit up from you completely. You followed his lead curiously, the two of you now sitting cross-legged on his bed facing each other, knee to knee. He brushed some of his hair out of his eyes, other pieces sticking up in random directions around the two fluffy white dog ears. Now that the covers had fallen off both your bodies, the tail rested beside him, no longer wagging happily as he gave you a forlorn look.

“Y/N… please remember that in order to cure the pupsickness, I just need to get this off my chest, okay? My health is not dependent on your response at all, it’s all about my internal state being stagnant for too long. So… don’t feel obligated to respond any one way for my sake.”

Your heart picked up speed in your chest, and there was no doubt that he could hear it. But still, you put on an encouraging smile for him. “Okay. Go ahead, Jeno.”

He kept his gaze down on his hands, seemingly messing with a seam on one of his blankets. And after one more deep inhale, he finally admitted, “I really like you, Y/N. Not coworkers, not friends. And I’m really sorry that I just—”

“You didn’t ruin anything.”

“What?”

“Do you think I really would’ve done all this for like… just anybody?” You confessed weakly. “I like you too.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah, Jeno, I do.” You couldn’t help but laugh at his constant disbelief in what you were saying. “Why do you just think I’m constantly lying to you? Like— Oof!”

Your sentence was cut short because in that moment, you were caught in a tackle-hug and nearly smothered under the weight of a very excited werewolf. Laughter poured out of you as you wrapped your arms around his neck, squeezing your eyes shut as you just let the happiness in your chest get bigger and bigger with each passing second.

“You really are just a big puppy, huh?” You teased, reaching up to scratch behind the dog ears on his head. Except, they weren’t where you were expecting them. You couldn’t find them by feeling around in his hair, and opened your eyes to look for them. The only thing on his head was his mop of dark hair, fluffed up by your fingers, but otherwise, entirely typical. Peering around his shoulders, you couldn’t spot a tail either.

“Jeno!” You gently pushed on his chest to encourage him to get off of you for a moment.

“Mm?”

“The ears and tail are gone! You’re not partially shifted anymore!” You pushed a little harder, and he seemed to finally get the idea, rolling over and flopping onto his back instead. You shot up to a kneeling position beside him, looking down at him excitedly. “How are you feeling?”

He seemed to think about this for a moment, and you couldn’t help but put the back of your hand to his forehead once more, relief washing over you when it was just a little warm compared to your skin, but pretty much the usual difference between humans and werewolves this time.

“Feels like your fever’s broken,” you announced giddily.

“I still feel a little yucky, like I’m getting over a cold,” he informed you, grabbing your hand that had been feeling for his temperature and resting your linked hands over his middle.

“Aw, poor pup,” you cooed, squeezing his hand, and not missing the way his cheeks flushed, but he didn’t reject the nickname entirely. “Well, we do have today off anyway. I can stay, if you want?”

“Please?”

“On one condition.”

“Anything!”

You leaned over to grab something off the nightstand, the werewolf protein bar you had snagged for him yesterday. It hadn’t been touched at all the night before, and you now held it out to him.

“You eat.”

He nodded. “I think I can make that work.”

Jeno was still feeling off by the end of the day, so you called Minseok and explained most of the situation to him—that Jeno was getting over pupsickness and you were helping take care of him. Your boss was understanding, and easily gave you two the next day off as well, sending the werewolf well wishes to get better soon.

Slowly but surely, Jeno’s appetite was coming back, but your mind wouldn’t truly be at ease until he was back to eating six meals a day, no matter how many times he reassured you that he felt fine.

Jeno wasn’t sleeping as much, but now he’d finally taken one of his rare naps on the couch—he’d fallen asleep trying to show you one of his favorite movies, which you’d paused as soon as you’d realized he was asleep, so that you could finish it together later. You were snugly in his arms, head resting on his chest and now contemplating attempting a nap of your own.

Then the front door opened. You would have sat up to look at who it was, if your position allowed for that at all, and if you didn’t know well enough already who that definitely was.

“Jeno?” A voice carried through the apartment from the front door easily. “Thanks for picking me up from the airport, asshole! I had to get a ride from His Highness, so now I owe him one! Which, by the way, you’re so going to help me repay when he comes to collect—Oh!”

The dryad had finally made it to the living room and stopped in his tracks as soon as he spotted the two of you. He was in a hoodie and sweatpants, a duffel bag over his shoulder and towing a suitcase behind him. Clearly fresh off the plane back from his month of study abroad.

You and Jaemin just stared at each other for a moment. Jeno hadn’t stirred.

“Uh, hey,” you greeted him awkwardly, cringing internally at the crack in your voice. “I’m uh… I…”

“Y/N, right?” Jaemin grinned down at you. While you had seen each other in passing when he'd come into the bakery on occasion, and of course knew of each other through the still slumbering werewolf with you, you'd never really been properly introduced.

“Yeah, I’m Y/N,” you smiled back at him, not-so-subtly smacking at Jeno’s arms to try to wake him up. “It’s nice to meet you, Jaemin.”

“It’s so good to finally meet you, Y/N.” Jaemin gushed. “How are you doing?”

“I’m good. Uhm, how was your trip?”

“It was great! Saw lots of sights. Still seeing some more now that I’m home, too.”

The werewolf under you had finally come to at that point, and groggily looked between you and Jaemin, eyes snapping open with alarm when he realized what was going on. “Jaemin! What the hell?”

“Could ask you the same thing, Jeno.” The dryad threw a hand over his chest. “I was abandoned at the airport and had to call Chenle for help—a fairy! And then I finally make it home, thinking the whole time that surely you must be injured; in the hospital; dead! to have gone back on your promise. Only to come home and find you napping with the Y/N. I mean, I was only gone for a month, what the hell happened?”

Jeno single-handedly chucked a pillow at Jaemin’s head, which the dryad easily dodged.

“I was sick, you little shit,” the werewolf groaned, rubbing his eyes with one hand, and keeping his other arm firmly wrapped around you. “I got pupsick like two days ago, I’m still recovering. I’m sorry about forgetting about your flight.”

“And what did I tell you before I left?” Jaemin put his hands on his hips, staring his roommate down pointedly. “I hate to say I told you so but—”

“No you don’t.”

“—but I told you that you were going to get yourself pupsick if you didn’t do something about Y/N.”

“You’re lucky I don’t have another pillow to throw,” Jeno covered his face with his hand.

“And you just brushed me off like everyone else does.” Jaemin threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. “Dryads aren’t just a bunch of hippies, you know. Nature and your connection to it is very important, it’s nothing to mess around with. I hope you know better now, Lee Jeno.”

A low grumble started in his chest at the scolding he was getting from his friend, and you bit down on your lip to stifle your giggles at the scene that had been unfolding around you.

“Yeah, Jaemin, I know that you’re always right and I don’t know anything ever and should always listen to you. Happy?” Jeno retorted sarcastically.

“Quite.” Jaemin smiled back with the same amount of sass, but you could feel that the tension was dissolving in the air. He grabbed his bags again. “You're also helping me repay the favor I now owe His Highness, by the way."

Jeno groaned again, but didn't argue.

"Anyway, I’m jetlagged and exhausted. I’ll leave you two alone. Lovely seeing you as always, Y/N. So sorry you had to deal with a pupsick Jeno for this idiot to finally confess to you. Goodnight!”

“Hey!” Jeno cried out indignantly.

“Goodnight, Jaemin,” you replied humorously, taking a look at the clock. It was only 11:00 a.m.

And with that, it was just you and Jeno again.

“Ugh, sorry about him.” The werewolf readjusted his hold on you, pecking your forehead.

“Don’t worry,” you chuckled. “I had a pretty good idea of what he’s like.”

“I know, but he didn’t have to make a scene like that.”

“I think he was entitled. You left him for dead at the airport, after all.”

“Oh my god.”

“He had to get a ride from Chenle.”

Jeno scrunched his nose, presumably remembering that he and Jaemin now jointly owe the fairy a favor. “Yeah, I probably should’ve at least arranged for one of the other guys to pick him up.”

“Mhm…” You picked up the remote again. “So, ready to finish the movie, pup?”

sequel :･ﾟ✧｡･:･*

⤷ blog masterlist  ⤷ anthology masterlist

[narliearchive]

Showstopper by PansyFace22 [M]

Buzz is building around the queer extravaganza that’s planned for this season’s run with a bisexual Bachelor - England’s own star pro-rugby player Nicholas Nelson. But what are the showmakers going to do for twelve episodes if their Bachelor and one of the newcomer contestants have fallen in love at first sight? ‘Would you … kiss someone, in front of the cameras?’ Charlie asks, his heart hammering louder than the music in his ears. He moves his body again, feet squeaking closer to Nick’s, his finger where it lies along Nick’s finger on the floor suddenly pressing. He hitches in a breath as he feels Nick’s pinky finger hook onto his. Nick looks at him, his head drifting slightly closer, then he takes a quick breath and looks away. ‘I don’t know … maybe?’ he says.

[avisteliterature]

A Smile and a Gift

Diluc Ragnvindr (Genshin Impact) x Reader

RATING: General

GENRES: Fluff

WORD COUNT: 329

SUMMARY: Diluc gives you roses as a gift.

He had heard that you loved roses. It wasn't that Diluc had deliberately gone out of his way to get some for you after being made aware of this fact, but when he was passing by a flower shop and caught sight of the red roses on display, he was suddenly reminded of you. He ended up buying a small bundle of them then and there with the intention of gifting them the next time he saw you.

"Here," was all Diluc had to say as he held the bundle of roses out for you to take.

You blinked once in surprise, carefully taking the roses into your hands. "For me...?" You asked, wondering if perhaps you were misunderstanding the man's intention.

"Yes," he answered and added nothing else, giving a short nod of his head. Why did he feel so awkward and embarrassed over something as simple as giving a gift to someone? It wasn't like this was his first time offering gifts to others. With his position and standing in Mondstadt, Diluc wasn't new to the idea of giving items out of goodwill and courtesy or as tokens of appreciation. So why was it that this in particular made him feel so nervous?

You seemed a bit taken aback at the idea of being given a gift, but your expression soon warmed as you inspected the roses closer. "They're so beautiful," you breathed out, your cheeks holding a pinkish hue as you gently held the flowers close to your chest. "Thank you so much... I love them."

Diluc wasn't expecting you to make such a loving and warm expression, so soft and different from the usual ones he usually sees you wearing, and his breath hitched for a moment. He felt a blush creep up onto his cheeks, and he awkwardly cleared his throat, crossing his arms over his chest as he turned his head away in an attempt to hide his face.

"Yes, well... I'm glad."

[kflixnet]

Check out our member Xian's fic!

𝐚𝐜𝐞・h.h.

— volleyball superstar and your personal hell hwang hyunjin proposes a trade-off you can't refuse: his matchmaking services for a passing anthropology grade. the plan is foolproof in theory; in practice, it is something else entirely.

words・15.2k

pairing・volleyball player!hyunjin x tutor!reader (gn)

genres・college!au, sports!au, fake enemies to friends to lovers, fluff, humor, hurt/comfort, slice of life, mutual pining, slow burn. two polar opposites sharing one soul. a seungjin fic if u squint. loosely inspired by the manga/anime haikyuu!!

warnings・mentions of anxiety, fear of failure, heartbreak, loneliness, and self-image. course language and callous banter (as always) ft. suggestive flirting and one kms joke. some of the referenced players and coaches are real; this fic is not.

playlist・collision by stray kids・value by ado・waiting for us by stray kids・eternity by bang chan・dreaming by smallpools・fly high!! by burnout syndromes

a/n・writing this felt like returning to my roots tbh. i love volleyball and i love sports aus and i love, love hwang hyunjin. thank u to my sahar for bringing this fic to life with me, as always; i can no longer write for him without also writing for you. i hope u guys enjoy reading this as much as i adored writing it. happy late birthday, our jinnie, our hyunjin, our forever ace; you are so unbelievably loved ♡

“Not a word out of you,” you say, tossing your backpack onto the floor of the lecture hall with a heavy-handed flick. “I’m serious.”

Hyunjin glances up at you with a frown. “When did people stop saying good morning?”

Your lack of an immediate comeback tells him the situation is dire. He observes you for a moment, his mouth falling open, hanging still, then curving into a slow, serpentine smile.

“Look at me.”

“No.”

“Look at me.”

“No.”

“Please, angel.”

“No! Leave me alone.”

Hyunjin slumps back into his seat, thinking hard. The solution occurs to him with a poke of his tongue into his cheek. “Coffee on me for a week.”

At this, your hands stop rummaging in your bag. You cock your head, your interest piqued. Got you. 

When you finally humor him and turn around, you’re flinching like you’re in pain, eyes closed and breath held and all. He giggles and leans in for a closer look. Tendrils of your body spray reach him from here, floral and light like a tropical coastline. He could’ve counted your eyelashes if he wasn’t so flummoxed by the state of your forehead.

“What the hell did you do?”

“Tried to cut my own bangs,” you sigh. “It didn’t go very well and now I look like Rock Lee.”

Hyunjin lets out a forceful laugh. “You’ve seen Naruto?”

You open your eyes. Only then does Hyunjin remember how little distance he left between your faces, when he’s staring straight into them and all the strange, starry speckles they hold.

The air between you curdles like sour milk.

Things are awkward between you often, he’s realized recently. What’s more, he didn’t think he was capable of being awkward with anyone anymore until he met you. It was your ill-fated seat that he chose to sit next to on the first day of ANTH 111, your ill-fated lap onto which he chose to spill his Americano, and the rest was history (or, in this case, anthropology). His tongue ends up in sailor’s knots with every smart-aleck comment and pitiful laugh you’ve given him since. Maybe there’s more to it, maybe there isn’t—Hyunjin doesn’t think about it much. He doesn’t like thinking in general.

You pull away from each other in unison. You clear your throat, glancing elsewhere. 

“Of course I’ve seen Naruto,” you quip, and everything is normal again. “Why do you seem surprised?”

“Because you’re so scholarly.”

“I am not scholarly.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You go to a park to play chess with old people on weekends.”

“I need to get my steps in somehow.”

“You didn’t know what Urban Dictionary was until I told you to look up—”

“God, I learned so much about you that day."

“Your favorite social media platform is Quizlet,” he bursts, exasperated. “Quizlet.”

“It is not.” An introspective pause. “Or is it?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.” Hyunjin throws his feet up on the chair below him, jabs in your direction with a bandaged finger. “There is no way you enjoy watching 2D men beat each other up in your free time. I don’t buy it.”

“Honestly, I thought you’d have more to say about my current appearance than my hobbies.”

He does, though. Matter of fact, he’s been curating a list since this conversation started: Vector from Despicable Me, Dora the Explorer’s hot older sibling, Spock. You face-planted into a lawnmower. You mistook a paper shredder for a hat. It goes on.

But then his head turns. Your eyes meet again. He’s reminded that it’s hard to sustain an inner monologue and look at you at the same time, Vector resemblance and all.

He reaches up, nudges a lock of your hair over a centimeter or so, and gives the patch of forehead a gentle flick.

“Watermelon,” he mumbles with a sickening smile.

You divert your attention to your lecture notes with a disappointed click of your tongue. “You’re getting soft.”

He spends the entire lecture daydreaming about tropical coastlines.

“I only get coffee from that one place on the east side of campus, by the way,” you say as you’re strolling out the building together, “and I get it a very specific way. Can you handle it?”

“Your faith gets me out of bed in the morning,” Hyunjin deadpans. “I’ll handle it, love. Text me your order.”

All of a sudden, you position your hands close to your stomach, the lapels of your jacket casting them in shadow. Your fingers begin to move in a sequence that he’d recognize anywhere.

“Body flicker jutsu,” you whisper, and then you’re scurrying off without another word—but you do glance back at him to gauge his response. Your smile is purely effulgent, your laugh but a faint sigh against the main quad’s busy thrum.

Hyunjin gapes at your retreating figure for so long that phosphenes start prancing around his field of view. Then he heads to the gym. His heart is pounding against his ribs like a battering ram.

“Hwang, I need you in my office.”

Hyunjin stops lacing up his shoes to see Coach Bang standing on the court’s sideline with a grim air about him. He glances at his captain, confused.

“Don’t look at me,” Minho says mid-stretch. “Godspeed.”

“Thanks, cap.” Useless.

Head volleyball coach Christopher Bang’s workspace reminds Hyunjin of a morgue. It’s all fluorescent lights and spotless white walls, the only decorative fixture a picture of his siblings, parents, and dog in front of the Sydney Opera House, framed and facing him atop his desk. Hyunjin once snuck the thing into the bathroom, an innocent plot to satiate his curiosity, and promptly discovered the man’s propensity for violence. He’s packing beneath those dry-cleaned polos, by the way.

Hyunjin closes the door and takes a seat. Bang taps a knuckle against the tempered glass of his monitor. “You can read, right?”

“Yes, coach,” he sighs. Everyone’s expectations for him are subterranean.

From: Park Jinyoung «asiansoul_jyp@snu.edu» To: Bang “Christopher” Chan «cb97@snu.edu» Subject: Not good See email from Hwang’s antopology professor below . He submitted the complete script of the Trolls movie instead of his mid term paper and now he’s failing the class . Not good . Sort out ASAP JP Sent from my iPad

Bang snatches up his mouse and scrolls, his ears turning scarlet. “Wrong email.”

“Yep.”

From: Kim Kyeyoung «kyeyoungkim@snu.edu» To: Park Jinyoung «asiansoul_jyp@snu.edu» Subject: Regarding Hwang Hyunjin To Director of Athletics Park, I am writing to inform you that, as of yesterday, Mr. Hwang Hyunjin has a D- (64.9%) in ANTH 111: Cultural Anthropology, due to his submission of the complete script of a kids’ movie instead of his midterm paper. It is disappointing to see Mr. Hwang trivialize and ridicule my class to such a degree. Please see to it that he reorganizes his priorities lest his Student-Athlete Participation Agreement do so for him. Regards, Kim Kyeyoung Professor of Anthropology

“That’s bullshit!”

“We’re in agreement there.” Bang folds his arms over his chest, throws his foot over his knee. “Do you know what your Student-Athlete Participation Agreement says?”

“Does anyone?” Hyunjin scoffs. Bang whips out a form and brings it to eye level, the thing covered from top to bottom in microscopic Times New Roman. “No way you just had that.”

“I had it delivered ten minutes ago,” Bang confesses, then clears his throat and begins to recite. “All student-athletes must complete the academic term with a C or higher in all courses, should they wish to continue their participation in athletics thereafter.”

Hyunjin stiffens. “What the fuck? I’ve never heard—”

“If any Department of Athletics personnel,” Bang continues, raising his voice, “have reason to believe that a student-athlete will not be able to satisfy this requirement, they are encouraged to utilize resources such as academic advising or peer tutoring in guiding said student-athlete back onto the correct path.”

He shoves the piece of paper across his desk. “Read that name aloud for me.”

Hyunjin stares at the signature at the bottom of the page, scrawled so carelessly that most of it deviates away from its designated line. There is a rare hollowness in his chest that he recognizes as anxiety. With it comes a glimpse of a life without volleyball, the question of what little of him would remain.

“Hwang Hyunjin,” he says under his breath.

The office goes silent. Bang tucks the form back into his drawer. It closes with a gentle click.

Then comes the yelling.

“The Trolls movie? Trolls?! Are you fucking with me, Hwang?”

“It was a cultural reset! The pinnacle of modern media! How’s that for anthropology?”

“BAD!” Bang explodes, gesturing to the email emphatically. “VERY, VERY BAD!”

Hyunjin slumps over, dejected.

“You’ve never had trouble with school before.” He leans over his desk imposingly. “What the hell happened this semester? What changed?”

Nothing is the first answer that comes to mind, but Hyunjin’s pulse spikes like a lie detector. Upon the inside of his eyes replays a scene of a certain someone with watermelon bangs doing teleportation jutsu at him from a few yards away, wearing a smile made of some kind of space dust that astronomists haven’t discovered yet.

He grits his teeth, annoyed. This is what happens when he thinks.

“Beats me,” he fibs. “Typical junior year stress, maybe.”

“Does any of it have to do with Piazza?” 

Hyunjin shudders.

It just might, actually.

Modesty has no place in the career he’s had: high school national champion turned ace hitter in both the South Korean U21 roster and regular rotation for Seoul National University, the best collegiate volleyball team in the country. His name has lived at the top of ranking lists and the center of gold medals since he turned old enough to qualify for them; the press believes him the instigant of South Korea’s imminent volleyball revolution. It’s a mouthful, he knows.

It was never a question that he would go professional; the question was who he should talk to and where he would go.

At the start of the school year, Bang, acting in place of the agent he was advised to find and never bothered to, gave him a list of people to reach out to. On the very top was none other than Roberto Piazza, the chairman and head coach of Allianz Milano, one of the most eminent club teams in the world—and current home to Hyunjin’s personal idol, outside hitter Ishikawa Yuki.

Hyunjin thought his poor coach had finally succumbed to his old age. The thought of stepping onto the same court as Ishikawa felt sacrilegious, let alone donning the red, white, and navy blue of Allianz Milano with him. But Bang slapped him on the back of the neck and reminded him that going professional was equal parts preparation and opportunity; he was never going to know the answers to questions he didn’t ask. Hyunjin was coerced to fire off an introductory email despite his reservations.

Piazza replied within the week.

For the last five months, Hyunjin has been fighting with tooth and nail to manage his expectations. He scrolls past the team’s social media posts like they burn his eyes. He replies to Piazza’s emails right before working out with Changbin under the assumption that whatever the shredded libero does to him will eviscerate his brain. If his world is made of dreams, this is the one at its very core, imbued with destructive potential the second it became attainable.

But that’s the last five months. The last five weeks have been you kicking him in the shin because he’s laughing (or trying to make you laugh) and the professor is staring; you listening to him rant and rave about volleyball when he knows you couldn’t care less about the sport; you relaying the contents of your class readings like hot gossip, your eyes wild and hands flying around because you can’t contain your excitement. You, you, you.

He cards a hand through his air, regaining focus. “You know how I feel about Piazza.”

“Expect the worst, hope for the best.” Bang’s chair skids backwards as he stands up. “I think it’s a good approach.”

Suddenly, he is directly in front of Hyunjin, low enough to meet his eyes. His hands rest upon his shoulders firmly.

“But hope is hungry, and it will consume you if you let it,” he says. “Do not let it, Hyunjin. I’m not asking.”

Even while being squeezed to a pulp and regarded with the cold intensity of a statue, Hyunjin can’t help but feel anchored, somehow, to the floor of this miserable office. Protected.

Bang lets go of him. “I’m not asking you to find a tutor by the end of the week, either.”

Hyunjin groans. “Yeah, yeah. I’m on it.”

A set of bandaged fingers appear in your periphery to place a paper cup onto your laptop. Accompanying the smell of fresh coffee is that of smoky rose, as decidedly douchey as ever.

“I thought you said your order was complicated.”

You look up from your phone to see Hyunjin plop into the adjacent seat. His long, caramel-colored hair is damp and unstyled in the aftermath of a morning shower, droplets of water pearling on the lapels of a navy blue windbreaker, layered over a white long sleeve. You recognize the outfit by now as game gear.

“Was it not?” You ask.

“It was an Americano, love. I walked up to the cashier and placed an order for an Americano.”

“Well, I wasn’t sure if you could handle that much.” He flips you off as you squint at the cup. “Someone wrote their number on the lid, by the way.”

“What? Really?”

“No.”

He shoves you hard enough for your upper body to drape over the opposite armrest; you’re still cackling by the time you’ve straightened up again.

“Why did you get this, anyway?” Hyunjin grumbles. “I thought you had a sweet tooth.”

“I do, but you don’t.”

Only then does the fool understand that you had no intention of charging him in coffee just for a haircut reveal. He takes back the coffee hesitantly.

“Thanks,” he says at last. “Nice of you.”

“I know, right? Hated it,” you respond, and he almost chokes on his first sip.

You almost choke on nothing when Kim Seungmin materializes in the aisle adjacent. He holds out a hand in Hyunjin’s direction. “Yo.”

Hyunjin dabs it up mid-sip. “I fully forgot you were in this class.”

“Well, I’m due for my weekly appearance.” Seungmin slips into the seat directly below you, glancing at you over his shoulder. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Hi,” you say, somehow managing to stumble over the single syllable the word has. You thank your lucky stars that you fixed your hair yesterday.

You like Kim Seungmin. Not just in the cutesy, crushy way, but in the “I would relinquish all of my rights for you” way where you spend every waking moment cursing out whatever stroke of misfortune placed Hyunjin in the seat next to you instead of him. He’s funny, gorgeous, and talented—a vocal performance major with a student-athlete contract—and you think your infatuation is more than justified. Hyunjin thinks it’s hilarious.

You side-eye your blonde adversary, prepared to see one of three things: a suppressed laugh, a dramatic eye-roll, or a mature kissy face that usually results in the first option. You’re met with something far more worrisome.

He’s thinking.

That can’t be good.

Suddenly, his phone screen lights up with a text that temporarily wipes the conspiratorial gleam from his eye. Hyunjin scans it over and groans. “Can this guy do his fucking job?”

“He wouldn’t have to if you didn’t quit,” Seungmin answers. “I’ll never forget you, Manager Hwang.”

“Shut up.” You peer at Hyunjin, silently requesting an explanation. “Our captain is forcing us to help him look for a new team manager. We need one for playoffs because of some stupid U-League rule—Seung, why do you look morose?”

“I’m mourning.” Seungmin does look morose indeed. “Hyunjin committed larceny last year and our coach punished him by making him our team manager for the rest of the season. It was so funny.”

Hyunjin slides down his seat. “It was the worst experience of my life.”

Neither man seems inclined to elaborate on the mention of larceny. You choose to digress. “Can I ask why?”

“He had to be responsible,” Seungmin whispers. “For other people.”

The top of Hyunjin’s head stops right next to your armrest. You reach over and pat his hair in faux sympathy. “Poor thing.”

“Hardass refused to do it again this year, so now we’re recruiting.” Seungmin props an elbow upon the back of his chair, looks at you contemplatively. “I don’t suppose you have four hours to spare every day.”

Hyunjin scoffs from below you. Loudly. “This one? Team manager?”

“I can see it.”

“I can see killing myself, maybe.”

The next time you reach for him is to hit his forehead. A crisp smack resounds around the barren lecture hall. Hyunjin cusses into his seat cushion.

“Seems like a great candidate to me,” Seungmin muses, and the warm smile he gives you mirrors onto your face before you can think better of it. God, it’s pretty. You wonder how it would feel pressed against your own.

Hyunjin is now completely out of sight and halfway onto the floor. “I miss when you didn’t come to class, Seungmin.”

Eighty minutes later, you’ve just emerged from the classroom when Seungmin calls out to you. You come to such a sudden halt that Hyunjin almost trips over you, but you barely notice him stumble, utterly enraptured by the hand Seungmin brings to the strands of hair by your ear, the fingers that dust your cheek as they pluck a small piece of lint from out of the tresses.

“Sorry.” He flicks it away with a sheepish smile. “I couldn’t unsee it.”

You manage to thank him just before your whole body ceases to function. Hyunjin sidesteps the two of you, yawning.

Seungmin excuses himself not too long after you reach the main quad. You also turn to leave, sparing Hyunjin a curt farewell in the process. He hooks his pointer finger around the handle at the top of your backpack and lugs you backwards with infuriating ease.

“I didn’t like that at all,” you say.

“I don’t care. I have something to tell you.”

“You have a kid, don’t you?”

“Wha—huh? Who do you think I am?”

“The one-night-stand’s poster child. The champion of the contraception industry.”

“Yeah, contraception industry. It’s right there in the name.”

You can’t argue with that. “What do you have to tell me?”

A shadow of hesitation flits across Hyunjin’s face. Your smile falters. Is it possible that you’re about to have a serious conversation with him for the first time? Maybe you should’ve saved the secret son bit for another time.

“I’m failing anthro.”

So much for a serious conversation. 

“Come again?”

He repeats the mystifying statement.

“You’re joking.” The look on his face says otherwise, though, and your eyebrows disappear into your hair. “You’re failing anthro?”

“I just said that, yes.”

“You’re failing anthropology?”

“Mhm.”

“Just so we’re clear—you’re failing Introduction to Cultural Anthropology?”

“Yes. I’m glad you’re having fun.”

This is the best day of your life. “I didn’t even know that was possible.”

“Yeah, well, our professor has no media literacy,” he mutters.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Hyunjin clears his throat. “Anyways, I was thinking—”

“Wow! Congratulations. That’s a big—oomf—”

Hyunjin puts his entire hand over your face. Your mangled noises of protest go unacknowledged.

“I was thinking,” he continues, pushing your head around like a stick shift, “you and I can work out some kind of deal.”

You shove his wrist off you with a revolted groan. “I think I just ate some athletic tape.”

“Happens. You wanna hear the deal or not?”

“Does it involve ingesting more sports equipment?”

“Do you want it to?”

“Just tell me the deal, boy.”

“Alright.” He takes a deep breath. “If you help me pass this class, I’ll set you up with Seungmin.”

Your head performs a triple-axel on your neck. You are unable to respond for what feels like multiple hours. Finally: “I’m gonna need you to elaborate.”

“On which part?”

“All of them. Everything.”

Hyunjin sighs, then scans the courtyard. His gaze settles on the student union a little ways off. “Are you hungry?”

You pick up a sandwich and a smoothie in a state of nervous stupor. One would think it’s the prime minister you’re about to have lunch with and not an imbecilic left-side hitter eating from three different entrees at the same time.

He’s chosen a table a few yards away from a planter of flowering cherry blossom trees. You feel jealous eyes on the side of your face as you take a seat across from Hyunjin, but they don’t know that his telephone pole legs still bump against yours even with them drawn as close to your body as anatomically possible. Or that he’s drawing up a literal Ponzi scheme on your sandwich wrapper. You wager you’ve had better company.

“You like anthropology. I like listening to you talk about anthropology.” He traces over the wrapper’s left corner. “And I kinda want you to boss me around. That weird?”

“Yes, definitely,” you mumble around a mouthful of bread. “Go on.”

“Conclusion one: you should be my tutor.” He taps in place as if applying a finishing touch, then swaps to the opposite side. “You also like my teammate, but he’s neck-deep in volleyball and music this semester, which makes him hard to get a hold of—for most people.”

“Let me guess. Not for you.”

“Ten points to Ravenclaw.” His British accent is nightmarish. “Seung and I live in the same building. We get dinner when we go back from practice together. Conclusion two: you should come with us.”

“To dinner or to practice?”

“To both. Which brings us to my third and final conclusion—”

He slams a fist onto the center of the wrapper.

“—you should manage our team.”

“I knew it!” You slam the table as well, your smoothie wobbling upon impact. “You’re trying to swindle me! You can’t pay for my labor with more labor. What do you take me for?”

“It’s not labor, dumbass! Ask our last manager! He didn’t do shit!”

“Yeah? Who was your last manager?”

“Me!”

Oh, right. “But you hated it!”

“I hate everything that isn’t playing volleyball. Try again.”

You fold your arms over your chest. “You said you’d kill yourself if I managed you.”

Hyunjin starts balling up your sandwich wrapper. “It’s true. I thought about you and my coach getting along and promptly got a rash. But it makes so much sense: you do whatever you want during practice, tutor me afterwards, and then you and Seung can eyefuck over ramen or something. My coach hops off my dick, you hop on Seung’s—”

“STOP!” A girl drops her receipt not too far away, startled by your outburst. “Stop right there. I get it. Stop.”

“It’s a good plan.” He slings the paper ball towards the nearest trash can. It drops into the hole without so much as a brush against the rim. “You know it is.”

You’re loath to admit that you do. “When did you even come up with all this?”

He flicks a thumb in the direction of your anthropology class. No fucking wonder he’s failing.

“What is this, mock trial?”

The owner of this voice is the third man you’ve seen today donning that navy windbreaker, white long-sleeve combo. He has a face that reminds you of your neighbor’s cat from back home, sleek and sharp and only slightly sinister. There’s a dash of humor in his expression as he approaches your table like he’s enjoying the company of a court jester.

“Slamming tables like fuckin’ tariff lawyers,” the cat-man hums, lifting a hand in Hyunjin’s direction. “I could see it from all the way inside.”

“Captain!” Hyunjin crows, dabbing him up without missing a beat. They really do that like breathing. “Just the man I was hoping to see.”

“Really? I thought you’d be avoiding me like the rest of our homunculus team.”

“I would never.”

“You did. Yesterday. When you saw me and started running in the opposite direction.” He pauses for emphasis. “As fast as possible.”

“Well, that was yesterday. Today is a new day.” Hyunjin tosses you a proud glance. “And today, I bring you a new team manager.”

You stiffen. “I haven’t—”

“Is that so!” When the stranger smiles at you, you feel the same satisfaction you did every time the cat let you scratch her on the chin. “Music to my ears. What’s your name, cutie?”

You catch Hyunjin’s eye across the table; he nods enthusiastically as if saying go on, then. You briefly picture yourself strangling him with his own athletic tape. You then picture yourself hopping on Seungmin’s—

Rigidly, you throw a hand out to the cat-man, your face aflame.

“Y/N,” you grumble. “I’m looking forward to working with you.”

He shakes on it heartily. “Likewise. I’m Minho. Welcome to the team.”

“Yes, welcome to the team,” Hyunjin parrots, looking positively jolly. You gnash your teeth together so hard your jaw throbs.

He’s lucky that his proposal holds so much water. He’s lucky that you don’t plan to strangle him until after you try that eyefucking thing.

You do kick him under the table, though.

The team has five weeks to prepare for the Korean University League, the biggest college-level volleyball tournament in the country. You have five days to learn how the hell athletic tape works. You can’t tell which is the bigger endeavor.

“I’m going to cause him irreversible skeletal damage,” you tell Changbin.

The team’s libero is twice as kind as he is talented, a full-time sweetheart working part-time at the university’s sports medicine clinic. Only your first week on the job and you’ve already decided he’s the only person on Earth you would permit to usher you through the gym at 6:45 A.M., a roll of athletic tape pressed to your back like a pistol.

“You will not,” Changbin answers. “One, because this won’t involve his skeleton, and two, because I wouldn’t ask you to help if it did.”

“You’ve misunderstood me,” you return as the two of you stop in front of an examination room. “I want to cause him irreversible skeletal damage.”

“Oh.” He opens the door with a frown. “Oh dear.”

Inside, Hyunjin is sitting cross-legged on top of a taping table, fitted in a loose gray tee and athletic shorts. He watches in pessimistic silence as you enter the room and beeline straight towards the shelf on the right. You slip a thick binder into your hands and bury your nose inside it without so much as a greeting.

“I am going to get maimed,” Hyunjin tells Changbin.

“Have some faith, both of you,” Changbin replies sternly. You find the pages you’re looking for and begin poring over them like you’re cramming for an exam. “You’ll be fine, Jinnie. Y/N studied.”

“Studied?” He repeats. “For this?”

“I’m pretty sure Quizlets were made.”

“Three, to be exact," you interject, sticking out your hand. “Now tape me.”

Hyunjin mouths the words tape me in baffled silence. The latter obliges your request with a smile. “See? What could go wrong?”

The answer to that, actually, is a lot. Especially after Changbin gets called away to help stretch out a teammate named Felix who allegedly “sprained his ass,” leaving Hyunjin to you and your binder.

You detect no smoky rose in the air around him today, just the subtle smells of cedar and cypress—laundry detergent or shampoo, maybe. Figures he doesn’t wear that insufferable cologne to practice.

“Go easy on me, yeah?”

While Hyunjin’s tone is teasing, yours is downright somber.

“I can’t promise anything.”

With that, you turn your palms face-up in a silent request for his hand.

A few strands of hair fall into your face as you lean in for a better look. It’s the first time you’ve seen his fingers untaped; they’re pretty, long and slender and surprisingly manicured, but also battered in their delicacy, the veins running over the back of his hand and forearm prominent, his bottom knuckles discolored from the healing bruises they bear. His hard work is palpable upon the smooth skin as evidently as if tattooed.

Hyunjin says your name in close proximity. You respond with an absent hum.

“You’re not nervous, are you?”

“No. Maybe a little.” You let his hand fall free and go to rummage for supplies. “Fine, yes. Very.”

“But you made Quizlets. You’re prepared for anything.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” You realize only after spotting the gentle smile on his face that he’s making fun of you. “I hate you.”

“Actually,” he hums, “I think you care about me, love. That’s why you’re nervous.”

“Nonsense—I care about disappointing Changbin. That’s it.”

“And me. And hopping on Seungmin’s dick. All these things don’t have to be mutually exclusive.”

You try to tackle him. Hyunjin catches your hands a few inches away from his face, fingers closing around your wrists with obnoxious agility.

“Have you lost your mind?” You whisper-shout, your face on fire. “Don’t bring that up here. I’ll maim you for real.”

The laugh that explodes out of him throws his entire body backwards, turns his eyes to crescent moons and his mouth into a little rectangle. You hate that you don’t hate when that happens.

“My bad, my bad. It slipped out. I won’t—”

One incremental shift of Hyunjin’s body later, you find that you’re precariously, alarmingly close to one another.

So much so that you notice the mole beneath his left eye for the first time, that you're nearly cross-eyed looking at it. That the tip of your nose actually brushes against his before you pull away with a quiet intake of breath. 

Things are awkward between you often, you’ve realized recently. You’re both professional yappers, always quick to digress, quick to find a new topic to bicker about before the awkwardness marinates. But hours later you’ll look back on the interaction and still remember how the air shifted: like a layer of dust had been blown away and something untouched and unknown was discovered just underneath.

Since you’ve met him, Hyunjin has spent more time on your nerves than on your mind. You’re not exactly losing sleep over such a circumstantial acquaintance; you know that his presence in your life will end the way it began, naturally and anticlimactically and inside the ANTH 111 lecture hall. Still, it doesn’t go unnoticed when your heart and stomach launch into an elaborate gymnastics routine in the wake of something he says or does, just as they’re doing now.

Hyunjin glances into your right eye a moment, then your left. The mole just below his left eye disappears when he smiles, the expression soft, saccharine, and sincere. How anyone casually looks the way he does is beyond your abilities of comprehension.

“Thank you,” he murmurs.

Your face continues to burn, now perhaps for different reasons. “What for?”

He lets go of your wrist, sweeps the lock of hair that keeps getting in your eyes behind the cuff of your ear.

“Caring about me.”

Then he flicks your forehead. You recoil with a quiet ow.

“Now stop stalling and tape me, dumbass.”

“Okay,” you mutter, rubbing the injury tenderly. “No need to get violent.”

It turns out the arduous taping procedure described in the instruction manual is for serious hand injuries. Hyunjin splints his fingers together for support, not rehabilitation, so it takes all of five minutes for him to talk you through his process. You finish taping both of his hands with nineteen minutes to spare. So maybe the Quizlets were overkill.

As you’re walking him down to practice, you take his hand and lift it to eye level, scanning your craftsmanship dubiously. “It’s not too tight, is it?”

“It’s perfect.” He swivels the hand around and grabs onto your entire face, the sensation by now eerily familiar. “Want another taste?”

You shove him down the stairs that remain. Unfortunately, there are only two. “You are truly grotesque.”

The gym has come to life since you arrived earlier this morning, now illuminated by shining ceiling lights in addition to the sun spilling through high, narrow windows. Most of the team has yet to step onto the court, still stretching or jogging along the sidelines: Minho and Coach Bang are talking strategy on the bench, the coach taking notes on a handheld whiteboard every now and then; Changbin is leaning over a recumbent Felix below the scoreboard, presumably trying to fix his ass.

The only one already with a ball in hand is Seungmin, setting to himself by the net. Once, twice, thrice straight up in the air, and then he glances in your direction and sends the fourth towards the left side of the court in a buoyant arc.

You only glean bits and pieces of the next few seconds. Hyunjin is at your side one moment, making a break for the net the next. His arms draw backwards in perfect synchrony. Feet hit the floor with laserlike intent. His entire body unravels like a fraying chrysalis as he rises to meet the ball, pounds it over the net and into the ground at an angle so clean that the sound of its landing resounds within your ribcage. It rebounds over the railing of the second floor and barely misses the doorway of the examination room you just emerged from.

Hyunjin drops lightly back onto his feet, following the ball’s tumultuous trajectory with proud eyes. A leftover breeze tosses a strand of hair over the bridge of your nose, and time starts moving again.

“Oi, this isn’t your backyard! Go pick that up!” Their coach booms, though his words lack their usual bitterness after what he just witnessed his ace hitter do.

Hyunjin swivels towards Seungmin first. “Crazy bitch. What the fuck was that?”

“Lower and faster. Further from the net too,” Seungmin returns. “How’d it feel?”

The grin on Hyunjin’s face reminds you of a wildfire, untamed and all-consuming and frightening in its fervor. “Like we just won everything.”

He tousles your hair as he jogs past you and back up the stairs to fetch the volleyball. Seungmin waves at you with one hand and palms another ball into his other. His face is warm and bare, his slim build flattered by his volleyball gear. You’ve witnessed few people so nice to look at and even fewer things as elegant as his setting form. But you are still thinking about Hyunjin—and you can’t move.

It is debilitating, watching somebody do the very thing they were destined for.

A little less than a week later, Hyunjin is approaching hour three of spewing hot garbage into a Word document when he decides to give up and call you. 

“Hello?” He immediately starts laughing. “Where the fuck are you?”

You poke the top of your head into the shot of your ceiling, gesturing to your headband. “My face is preoccupied at the moment.”

“Oh, you have to show me. Please.”

You flip your phone up for no more than half a second. A camera shutter goes off, followed by a shriek so loud that it peaks your mic.

“Motherfucker!”

He basically sprints to his camera roll. His prize: you with your face slathered in cleanser, hair pinned back by a Miffy headband, looking like the abominable snowman if he liked cute merchandise.

“Thank you,” he says earnestly. “I’ll treasure this forever.”

“You’ll be punished, Hwang.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

You brandish your middle finger at him in response. He props his phone up against his computer screen with a chuckle. 

“Aaanyways, I have a thesis statement to run by you.”

The first thing you did as Hyunjin’s tutor was help draft an email to Professor Kim, begging her to let him resubmit the two essays he royally botched. She replied with a lengthy quotation from her syllabus, specifically the section that talked about (and prohibited) resubmissions, but ended up making an exception for Hyunjin on account of the “truly piteous timbre” of his email. You fell out of your chair laughing when he read you her response.

“You should’ve opened with that.”

“I tried, hello? Someone distracted me!”

“Read. It. Before I change my mind.”

You spend a few minutes at most on the thesis itself, advising him to avoid passive voice, answer the prompt, establish a refutable argument, the works. Then he asks you a question about the research topic itself, allusions to the afterlife in Ancient Egyptian artwork, and the tutoring session takes a turn into what feels like a podcast episode.

You talk about the God of Death, Anubis, and his connections to the underworld; the elaborate, lavish funerary rituals intended to ensure the souls of the dead traveled safely; the vibrant murals that flanked their final resting spots as pictorial requests for divine protection. And you talk about them all with such confidence, such eloquence, that it’s as if you’re leading him through a history museum rather than talking to your phone as you do your skincare. He could listen to you for hours. He does, actually.

Around 1 A.M., Hyunjin stops typing mid-sentence when you come into frame for the first time, collapsing into your bed with a sigh of relief. Your eyes are soft and sleepy as they blink at your screen, strands of damp hair clinging to your cheeks. He feels his heart physically shift inside his ribcage when your mouth stretches into a yawn. It is the same sensation as the time you shot him a smile over your shoulder and he couldn’t move for ten minutes.

With that, his attention span has run its course.

“Baby,” he interrupts gently. “Let’s stop here, okay? You seem tired.”

You open your mouth as if to protest, only to yawn again.

“I suppose I am. Will you keep working tonight?”

“I think so. I hit my stride.”

“Text me if you have questions, then. I’ll respond when I wake up.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Your lips curve into the smallest of smiles. It copies onto Hyunjin’s face incurably quickly. 

“I had my doubts about this tutoring thing, you know.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, you told me this class was the closest thing to daily naptime you’d experienced since preschool.”

“It really is.”

“You also told me you would rather slam your tongue in a car door than read more than three sentences in one sitting.”

“I really would.”

“And you once referred to academia as ‘Virgin Village.’”

“Didn’t you come up with that?”

“No, hello? I live in that village.”

He grins. “I know. I just wanted to hear you admit it.”

“Fuck you.”

“Ah, don’t threaten me with a good—”

“What I’m trying to say is that I didn’t think you would take this seriously, but I’m happy to be proven wrong.”

Hyunjin leans back. “Well, turns out I might give a fuck about anthropology after all.”

“Really?”

“No.”

You pretend to punch him through the screen. It’s so cute that he forgets to think before he opens his mouth next.

“But I do give a fuck about you.”

There’s nothing crazy about the statement. You’re friends, sort of. You manage his team. It would be strange if he didn’t. But the seconds that follow are terrible, a silent prophecy of something disastrous, like a cloud of rubble before an avalanche, the standstill during a star’s final breath. And Hyunjin’s heartbeat is hounding against his ears like a performance of traditional taiko.

He says good night in a haste. The call ends. He stares at the wall of his bedroom in a muddled haze for who knows how long.

Then he opens his texts.

Hyunjin: We have team bonding tomorrow btw Hyunjin: Don’t forget Y/N: i forgot. Y/N: pick me up at 6:45? Hyunjin: 🫡

He picks you up at 7:53.

You approach his car with your fists balled and your eyebrows knitted together like a mean old curmudgeon and he’s walking too close to your lawn.

“His fault,” Hyunjin says before you start yelling.

Minho simpers at you through his open window. “Hey, you! So glad you could join us!”

You fix the man with a judgmental glare as you slide into the backseat. “Aren’t you the captain? Why are you this late?”

“Whoa, okay. I would’ve scheduled this for earlier if I knew right now was honesty hour.”

“You did schedule it for earlier,” you say. “You scheduled it for way earlier.”

“Yeah, well, you’re fired.”

“You can’t fire me, Minho.”

“I can too. Tell ‘em, Hwang.”

“I want nothing to do with this.”

When you step through the doors of the arcade, you’re met with a surge of sensory input that you haven’t experienced in years. The air hangs thick with the smells of greasy concessions; everywhere you look are flashing screens and neon signs, stuffed animals and fading posters; clamoring against your ears are the sounds of games being won or lost, of balls being pocketed or launched, and of a horde of fully grown men spectating a match of Dance Dance Revolution so passionately (and loudly) that they’ve scared everyone away from that side of the room. You recognize the current competitors as Changbin and Jeongin.

“I’ll go pay,” Hyunjin says. “How much time do we want?”

“Infinity,” Minho answers. Hyunjin doesn’t move. “Two hours.”

He flashes him a thumbs-up. “And you?”

“I’m okay, I think.”

“No you’re not,” the two men answer in perfect unison.

You glance between them warily. “I don’t mind watching, seriously. I don’t even know how most of these games work—”

“There’s Tetris,” Hyunjin cuts in.

You purchase an hour.

One would imagine the point of the evening is to break the SNU men’s volleyball team, not to bond them. You’ve never seen so many strained blood vessels in your life. Nor have you heard of half the insults they spew at each other as the night goes on. Felix has to pay a fee for lodging an air hockey puck in the side of the MarioKart machine. Changbin loses at skee-ball and has to down an XL slushie like it’s a shot. It’s a scary amount of boyishness expressed in scary ways.

But they’re happy. You’ve picked up on it when they’re on the court, noticed the raw elation they emanate just from playing together. Yet, their closeness has never been more evident to you than tonight. The men are either laughing or making someone else laugh, arms draped over each other at all times, equally happy to celebrate victories as they’re eager to punish losses. It dawns on you at some point that you’re glad to be here with them, grateful to be a part of something so special—especially because there’s Tetris.

“Have you ever considered going pro?” Hyunjin asks over your shoulder.

You waited until most of the team was distracted to slink off to your beloved machine. Hyunjin tagged along, undoubtedly with the intention of making fun of you, only to be rendered speechless by your mastery. He’s been watching in a state of stupor, forearms propped against the back of your chair.

You don’t respond for a while, too focused on a precarious patch to even blink, let alone partake in conversation.

“I already did,” you finally answer.

“Sorry, what? You played professional Tetris?”

“In middle school. Then I got bored and switched to backgammon.” You pause. “Then I got bored again and switched to chess.”

“How do you look like this with these hobbies?”

Your run ends a few minutes later with a somber sound effect. You turn around in your seat with an anguished groan. “I think I’m washed.”

He looks at you like you’ve lost your mind. “You just set a new record by three hundred thousand points.”

“It’s a small pond,” you say, and an idea occurs to you. “Do you wanna try?”

“I get the feeling I don’t have a choice.”

“Then you’re smarter than you look.”

“Well, you look—”

His eyes move between your shoes and your face, and then his voice is an inaudible mutter as he sinks into your seat. You think you hear something along the lines of unfair.

“What was that?”

“Ugly. I said you look ugly.” He cracks his knuckles. “Now let’s break some fuckin' blocks.” 

When Hyunjin learns that the pieces can be rotated (so six or seven attempts later), a man walks into the arcade. 

He has hair the color of dark chocolate, the face of a fairy prince—and he’s with someone. The two of them appear arm in arm, laughing at something he said. He looks at this person the way astronomers do to the sky.

Something shatters inside you like old porcelain.

Your hands loosen around the back of Hyunjin’s chair. You can’t watch. You can’t think. You can only feel a void of disappointment rip open, stretch over you like an elongating shadow.

“Seung!” That’s Jisung, you think. “You made it!”

“Yo, sorry we’re late.” That’s Seungmin. That is undoubtedly Seungmin. “Dinner took longer than I thought.”

“Min, are you sure I’m allowed to be here?” You don’t know who this voice belongs to and you’re not sure you want to. “I feel like I’m intruding—”

“Hwang,” you say suddenly. “I have to go.”

He turns around, confused. An unattended block falls into a terrible spot on the screen behind him. ”Already?”

“I forgot I had an important call to make.” You turn away, training your eyes on the patterned carpet. “Sorry. I’ll see you around.”

You have touched Hyunjin’s hands many times. He’s asked you to tape his fingers every day since the first; he likes the way you cut off his circulation, says it helps him hit harder. But you never hold his hand so much as you examine it, the act stiff and unfeeling, cordoned within the professional pretense of athletic treatment. 

Now, Hyunjin catches your hand like a gardener repotting their favorite flower: delicately, careful of leaving its roots intact and petals untouched, but firmly, securely, so the flower continues to stand tall even when it’s been extracted from the soil, not even a speck of dirt slipping through the cracks between their fingers. That is the image you conjure when he slips his between yours, his metal rings cold where his fingertips are warm.

He says your name. There is a pinch of pain in the word, and you know that he knows.

“Do you want to be alone?”

You have never been asked such a thing—you have never asked to be asked such a thing—but, for some reason, the question brings tears to your eyes. 

“Yes, please,” you whisper, and you pull your hand away.

When you stalk past him, you hear Jisung notice you, call out to you, a note of worry in his question. You also count three pairs of eyes on your back: one concerned, the next confused, and the last you are wholly incapable of meeting. 

Unknown to you is the fourth pair fixed upon the top of the Tetris machine, where you’ve left your phone.

You emerge into the parking lot. The frigid air stills your mind for a fraction of a second, the last moment of mental quietude you will allow yourself that night.

Hyunjin’s right; the team manager doesn’t have to do much.

Coach Bang allows you to come to whichever practices and games you feel like, during which you might at most lug around a ballbag or fill someone’s waterbottle before holing up somewhere to do your own thing. But you like the people you work for too much to do so little for them, so you attend everything  your schedule allows. 

Last week, you could be found helping Minho put up the volleyball nets before practice, your laughter echoing throughout the spacious gym as he complained to you about his biochemistry professor’s distinct “cabbage scent.” Or running to grab materials for Changbin as he treated his teammates’ injuries like you were assisting an orthodontist giving someone a root canal. The dinner invitations you extended to Seungmin were always turned down, but his teammates were more than happy to assist you and Hyunjin in your quest to establish the best kimbap joint in the area once and for all. You even had a heart-to-heart with Coach Bang during one of the team’s water breaks, in which you managed to get half a smile out of the guy; Hyunjin was convinced that was his way of asking you to elope. You spent more time in the gymnasium those ten days than you had your entire college career.

Then came the arcade.

Five days have come and gone. You haven’t attended practice since, but you still see Hyunjin every morning at anthropology. The two of you sit in uncharacteristic silence for most of the lectures. You’ve taken the best notes of your life. He doesn’t mention the previous weekend; he doesn’t mention much of anything. 

In person, that is.

That Friday afternoon, you’re reading on the terrace of the library when you receive a text. It’s from Hyunjin, a two-minute voice note. You hesitate for a moment, stick a pencil into the gutter of your textbook to save your place, and slip your earbuds in. You listen to it.

Then you listen to it again.

And again as you wrap up your study session and go home. Again as you cook yourself dinner and load the dishwasher. Again as you shrug on a jacket and pocket your keys, setting off on the familiar trek to the gym.

As for what you plan to do there on a Friday night, long after the team has finished practice, you haven’t the slightest clue. You continue to move regardless, fueled by the feeling that there is where you need to be.

Coach Bang is leaving the building just as you’re approaching it. He halts in his footsteps and raises his eyebrows when he notices you. The man has always been difficult to read, but his face is exceptionally opaque now. Maybe it’s the shadowy landscape; more likely it’s the uneasiness that began to mount within you once you noticed the lights in the gym were still on.

“It’s been a while,” he greets.

“Coach,” you return, lowering your head. “I want to apologize for—”

“Save it,” he says, not unkindly. “There’s nothing to apologize for, alright? The team is lucky to have you.”

You manage a grateful smile. “I’ll be back starting next week.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” He starts to walk away, stops himself, and glances into the illuminated building. “I would give him some space, by the way.”

Your uneasiness morphs into anxiety as you watch his broad back retreat into the shadows. You remain outside the gym for a few minutes more, accompanied by the distant melodies of cricket chorales and the muffled squeaking of shoes against laminated hardwood, the harsh sounds of flesh meeting leather.

Briskly, you walk home, rummage around, and return to the gym ten minutes later with your textbook tucked beneath your arm. This time, you unlock and enter the building without a moment of hesitation. 

Hyunjin is positioned multiple yards behind the service line, rotating a volleyball in his hands. A high toss, two resounding steps, and a collision like the crack of a whip. The previous ball has barely landed in the furthest corner of the court when he’s picking up the next, retreating to the same spot to do it all again. His tank top is the color of charcoal over his sweaty skin, his hair auburn where it’s plastered to his neck. He’s alone.

You only catch sight of Hyunjin’s face when you descend the stairs. His expression is crystalline, hardened with concentration and fortified by courage, but fragile all at once, rendered delicate by fatigue and fear, spilling from his every seam and splintering off his person like a broken vase. You recognize it as clearly as if you were looking at a picture of yourself from the worst years of your life.

“I was told to give you space,” you call out, and Hyunjin drops the volleyball he’s holding.

His lips fall apart. Nothing comes out of them. The only sounds to follow are your footsteps as you make your way towards the bleachers, a vertical wall of plastic now that they’ve been retracted for the night. You fold your legs into a criss-cross as you take a seat at their base.

“Is this enough space?”

More silence. You gesture to the volleyball nervously.

“Don’t make me go further, please. I’m not ready to die.”

Finally, this earns you a smile. It’s not much, but it loosens the nervous coils in your heart, permits your lungs to contract once more, and it remains on his face as he swipes the ball back into his hands. You open your textbook.

The rest of the night elapses in turning pages and soaring volleyballs. You don’t care for minutes or hours; you give him all the time in the world, as he did you.

The only time you glance at the clock on the wall is around midnight, when Hyunjin hobbles to the middle of the court and collapses. You’re worried at first. Then he rolls onto his back and releases a guttural groan into his hands, and your held breath comes out a laugh. You set down your book and stand up.

There’s a lake of perspiration forming around him. You pay it no mind and flop onto the floor, your eyes instantly narrowing beneath the fluorescent lights. 

“How do you see under these things?”

“I don’t,” he returns. “I complained about it to Coach once.”

“And?”

“He made them brighter.” Sounds about right.

Hyunjin spends the next few minutes catching his breath, his chest rising and falling in your peripheral vision. You sift through your mind for phrases of consolation or gestures of support and come up empty. You wish you had Hyunjin’s way with words.

But you think about the way his smile reached his eyes as he thanked you for caring about him, the tenderness with which he caught your hand at the arcade, the I give a fuck about you he blurted before ending the study call. You think about the voice note. It’s not that Hyunjin has a way with words; it’s that he’s brave enough to break the silences that you can’t, like he perceives your anxiety for the aftermath, shouldering the responsibility so you won’t have to.

This cannot be his burden alone.

You inhale. “What’s on your mind?”

Hyunjin doesn’t answer right away. You give up on squinting and close your eyes. The lights are still bright enough to dance around the murky darkness.

“I don’t think I know how to put it into words.”

You nearly laugh; you know how that feels. “Don’t think, just talk. I’m here.”

The same advice you gave yourself seems to work on him as well.

“Do you remember Ishikawa Yuki?”

His role model.

“He’s currently playing for a club team in Italy called Allianz Milano.” He blows out a deep breath. “I’ve been talking to their coach, Roberto Piazza, for the last six months.”

The gears in your head creak in their effort to process the implications of these words. “Holy shit, Hwang.”

“He emailed again, this morning. Said he was coming to the tournament later this month, he’s excited to see me play in person, whatever. And it hit me, finally, that this is all real. Like, this is actually happening to me. I spent all of today freaking out and asked Coach to let me stay back after practice. Usually, it wears out my brain if I tire my body, but it only half-worked today. I couldn’t wrap my head around anything. I still can’t.

“I am who I am because of that man, and now…I have a shot at playing with him. I keep asking myself why I’m not—not happier. I should be bouncing off the fucking walls, no? If I told my past self that this would be happening to him one day, he—he would—”

You open your eyes, confused by the sudden silence.

Hyunjin is sitting up next to you, staring intensely into the bleachers. You first notice the tip of his tongue prodding into his cheek, then his shuddering breath. He lifts a hand to his face, pressing against his eyes.

You stop thinking after that.

You sit up with him. When you settle your fingers around his wrist, he allows you to pull his hand back to his side. But he turns away as if trying to hide from you; he squeezes his eyes shut as if that would obstruct your view of his pain.

You reach to cradle his face, bringing him back to you. The cuff of your sleeves wipe at the saltwater on his cheeks, push the hair off his forehead with gentle sweeps. The two of you are close, close enough that your lips would meet the space between his eyes if you so much as lost your balance. His gaze traverses to your face, but you resolve not to meet it. You know you will traipse into uncharted territory the moment you do.

“Don’t fight it.” You trace over the hill of his cheek. “Healing becomes easier if you let yourself hurt. Trust me, Hyunjin.”

His first name should feel foreign on your tongue, yet you suspect the syllables have accompanied you all your life.

“You don’t have to continue if you can’t.”

“S’okay.” Hyunjin lifts your hand away from his face, presses a kiss to the base of your palm. “I want to.”

You feel yourself stumble ungracefully into the uncharted territory from before; does he do the same?

“I used to play volleyball on this expanse of cracked blacktop, behind my primary school. It was pretty brutal on my feet—I blew through so many different pairs of sneakers my mom almost made me quit.” He smiles at the memory. “But every time I came close to quitting, I’d go home and rewatch the same USA vs. Poland match from the 2008 Summer Olympics I asked my dad to record, and I’d promise myself it would be me on some other kid’s screen someday.

“That kid would tell everyone who’d listen about how cool I am. That I’m a secret superhero. That I’m living proof humans can fly if they really, really try—just like I talked about the volleyball players I grew up watching on my TV.

“The other day, Coach told me that hope would consume me. I thought it was just some senile drivel at the time, but..I think I get what he means now. I would do anything and everything to make that kid proud—even if it meant losing myself.” He lowers his head, auburn strands falling into his eyes. “That’s what’s on my mind.”

Amidst the ensuing pause, a storm approaches. It does not come in the form of rain or snow, sleet or hail, no; it is a gathering of words unsaid and emotions unacknowledged, all emerging from the deepest chambers of your heart in synchrony. The same entities you used to scapegoat for all the times things were awkward between you and Hyunjin when you were the culprit all along. You and your blind cowardice.

The storm tears open the seam of your lips. You do not resist; it’s long overdue.

“Every time Changbin sees you, he turns into a smitten schoolgirl,” you say. “He is physically unable to contain how endearing he finds you. He told me so himself.”

Hyunjin looks at you with widened eyes. You think you can see your own reflection in them, and you are the spitting image of a lighter dropped into gasoline, unstoppable in your vehemence.

“Jeongin comes to you for advice before anyone else,” you continue, “even for things related to school—which I still find hard to believe, I’m not gonna lie. But you have his best interests in mind, and it shows in everything you do for him. Of course your opinion matters more than anything in the world.

“I know you think he can’t stand you, but you are the reason Coach Bang loves this job, why he loves this sport. It’s written all over his face every time he calls you something mean, every time he makes you run another lap, every time he looks at you. You’re like a son to him. Everyone sees it but you.”

“Then there’s me.” You pause to catch your breath. “When I think about what my life used to be, I remember a lot of things. I remember loneliness. Insecurity. I remember my books and my backgammon boards and the way I taught myself to disappear inside them so the world would never find me. I remember avoiding mirrors like a vampire because I didn’t like seeing my own reflection. I remember feeling like I had to put on someone else’s personality every time I left the house because nobody would want to know me for me. All I ever wanted was a place where I could be myself, love myself, without consequence. I have yet to find that place.

“But I found a person. Someone who wouldn’t know time and place if they kicked his dick into his body. Someone who thinks instant ramen is high in nutritional value because it comes with dried vegetables. Someone who sweats the same amount of rain the Sahara Desert receives yearly—your body is not normal, by the way.”

Hyunjin giggles; it is soft and short, a small, tearful huff into the quiet air that makes you feel like you’re flying.

“Don’t get me wrong,” you say. “Your sense of humor sucks and your taste in coffee is so boring and you are the one with no media literacy, not Professor Kim. But I love spending time with you. I love who I am when I’m around you. And none of that has to do with volleyball.”

The next time you blink, you discover that he’s not the only one with tears in his eyes. How long has that been going on?

“There’s so much about you to be proud of, Hyunjin.” You give him a watery smile. “That kid will be spoiled for choice.”

When Hyunjin pulls you into his arms, you fall into each other like going to bed after a long day. Your face burrows into the crook of his neck in your embarrassment; he is laughing and crying at the same time when he mumbles something into your shoulder: “I knew you cared about me.”

You are so happy for the comedic relief you could sob. It helps that you already are.

“How the fuck are you still sweaty?” You choke out, and you think you like his cologne after all.

Six days later, Hyunjin opens the door of his apartment.

A fun-sized flurry of black and white barrages into the hallway outside and almost runs headfirst into the figure waiting there. You fall to your knees like you’ve just been gravely wounded, emitting an ear-piercing wail to match. All it takes is a few good head scratches for Kkami to stop yipping bloody murder and start whining for attention instead. 

Upon minute five of watching you and his dog cuddle in the hallway directly outside his home, Hyunjin sighs.

“Can you come inside, please? My RA will think I’m doing some freaky shit again.”

You side-eye him as you walk into his apartment, Kkami perched happily in your arms. “What, exactly, does freaky shit entail?”

He smirks as the door falls shut. “You want me to tell you or show you?”

You turn to Kkami, disgusted. “Your owner’s a bit of a pervert, my dear.”

Kkami licks you on the chin. Hyunjin’s eyes narrow to slits.

“Traitor.”

Naturally, Hyunjin’s parents chose the eve of his final anthropology exam—and the week before the tournament that will determine the trajectory of his career—to ask him to look after Kkami for a few days. He nearly canceled their plane tickets himself, but his impromptu roommate is currently ransacking your face with kisses on his couch, and he thinks your laugh complements his studio better than any decoration. 

“Do you want anything to drink?” He calls from the kitchen area.

You meander over, Kkami (still) perched happily in your arms. “What do you have?” 

“Alcohol.” He opens his fridge far enough so you can peer over his shoulder. “Americanos.”

He stops speaking.

“Is that all?”

“Yes. Wait—and apple juice.”

“You are about to be a professional athlete.”

“What the Italians don’t know won’t hurt them. You want apple juice, don’t you? I can see it in your eyes.”

“Maybe. Can you open it for me? My hands are full.”

Hyunjin does so with far less reluctance than he feigns. You thank him jubilantly, popping the straw into your mouth.

“Let’s get this over with.”

At 10:32 P.M., all is calm. You are sitting on the floor, your back against the side of his mattress. Hyunjin is where the universe intended: curled up in bed, both him and his laptop lying on their sides. You have studied eight out of ten units in only two and a half hours, and the night is still young. Kkami is but a fluffy, sleepy Oreo by your waist.

At 10:33 P.M., the Oreo begins to retch.

You startle a foot into the air. Hyunjin is out of bed and on his feet in the blink of an eye, the very image of a dog dad on duty. He grabs three different things off the kitchen counter with one hand and scoops up the long-haired chihuahua with the other, and then he’s kicking open the door.

Seungmin appears out of thin air carrying two heaping bags of groceries. Hyunjin nearly knocks him and a month’s worth of fresh produce down four flights of stairs.

“Hyun—Kkami?” Seungmin swivels. “Yo, what the fuck is—”

Hyunjin is already out the door.

A few minutes later, Hyunjin squats off to the side, pouring fresh water into a portable dog bowl. A little ways away, Kkami is throwing up ebulliently; a set of footsteps approaches.

“What is this thing?” Seungmin squats down next to Hyunjin, picking up the piece of patterned fabric lying on the grass. 

“Kkami gets sad after throwing up,” he sighs. “His blanket makes him feel better.”

Seungmin watches the chihuahua for a few moments, a soft flinch crimping his features. “He ate too fast again?”

Hyunjin rakes a hand through his hair. “I don’t get it. Nobody’s gonna take his food from him.”

Seungmin laughs. “I didn’t even know he was on campus.”

“I picked him up last night. My parents are traveling for work—they say hi, by the way.”

“I say hi back. I miss your mom’s cooking.”

“Me too,” Hyunjin says, smiling. “She would love to cook for you again—she’s always saying you’re too skinny.”

“She really is.”

A beat passes; it is then that Hyunjin has an epiphany.

Seungmin was the one who put a volleyball in his hands for the first time. Back then, Hyunjin was the lesser troublemaker between the two of them—a concept that neither of them can wrap their heads around to this day. Seungmin suggested they use the clotheslines in Hyunjin’s backyard as a makeshift net, despite Hyunjin’s dissuading; half of Hyunjin’s father’s wardrobe caught on fire, Seungmin had a black eye for a week, and nobody knows what happened to that volleyball. The two of them have been attached at the hip ever since.

It is a crazy thing, having your best friend as a teammate; a singular flick of the wrist or a point of his shoe and Seungmin will know exactly Hyunjin wants the ball down to the net’s fraying fibers; Hyunjin will be exactly where Seungmin needs him down to the flecks of paint on the volleyball court. Hyunjin has always been Seungmin’s hitter—Seungmin, always Hyunjin’s setter. Nothing will ever change between them so long as that remains the case.

At least, that’s what Hyunjin used to think.

Learning that Seungmin was in a relationship was as much a wake-up call for Hyunjin as it was for you. At first, he was just fucking pissed; how could Seungmin be so stupid as to turn down someone like you, especially when Hyunjin had shot his mouth off about his wingman services? More importantly, how long had his best friend of eighteen years been in love, and why was he the last to know? 

Only now, as they wait for his nine-year-old chihuahua to finish barfing, does Hyunjin realize that he can’t remember the last time he and Seungmin talked. Not “talked” as in a brief exchange inside the locker room or the lecture hall, about a new approach he wants to try or what Seungmin got on number four or if he wants a ride to practice—“talked” as in talked, about Hyunjin, about Seungmin, about the eighteen years they shared, about all the years yet to come.

Hyunjin sees his setter every day; he stopped looking for his friend a long time ago. 

“Yeonwoo, right?”

He senses surprise in Seungmin without having to look at him. But he also senses a smile, a subtle show that Seungmin recognizes what he’s trying to do—and forgives him.

“Yeonwoo,” Seungmin affirms. “We’re in the same songwriting intensive this semester.”

“Also a singer?”

He shakes his head. “Piano player. Performed at the Carnegie Hall in the United States at, like, seven years old. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so talented.”

“Wow, that’s—hi, old man. You done?”

Kkami walks over with his head hung low and tail between his legs, and Hyunjin hurries to drape the pup in his favorite blanket, pulling the bowl of water in front of him in tandem. Seungmin runs a hand over the top of Kkami’s head as he hydrates.

“You’ve suffered,” he tells him solemnly, and Hyunjin snorts.

“As I was saying—that’s crazy to hear, coming from the most talented person I know. You guys looked so good together.”

“Thanks. It’s weird. I’m happy.”

“You deserve it. You really do, Kim.” They exchange smiles, and Hyunjin gives Seungmin a playful nudge. “When are you introducing us?”

“The arcade wasn’t enough?”

“Don’t insult me.”

“Whenever you want, then.”

“Dinner with my mom, dinner with Yeonwoo,” Hyunjin recounts. “I’m holding you to it.”

“Bet.”

They shake on it. If Hyunjin wasn’t already reassured by Seungmin’s smile, he knows by his clasp around his hand that they’ll be okay.

“What about you?” Seungmin asks. “Are you together yet?”

Hyunjin knew this was coming. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.” Seungmin strings his hands together, letting them dangle in the space between his knees. “Someone you have questions for that you’re too scared to ask. Someone who’s lived in your mind since the day you met. There’s someone like that, isn’t there?”

Hyunjin pokes his tongue into his cheek. 

Ever since that night on the gym floor, Hyunjin’s been having these dreams. By the time his alarm goes off in the morning, every detail of the dream has eluded him, leaving behind only a ghost of emotion, akin to the breeze that grazes your face moments after walking past another person.

But then he’ll get out of bed, and walk to that café on the east side of campus, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. There, he’ll order a vanilla latte with extra sweetener, then turn around to see you standing five feet away, holding an Americano and trying not to laugh. And he’ll just know, with everything in him, that you are where his head goes when he’s not keeping watch.

He still addresses you by the pet names you hate. He still finds any excuse to be close to you; he still pesters you like a child with a crush. But now, he calls you his baby like one wishes on a star; his eyes drift to your lips every time you’re within two feet of each other; he makes fun of your likes and dislikes only because he’s happy to know about them at all. Ever since that night on the gym floor.

It’s impossible for nothing and everything to change at once. Two people teetering on the precipice of something cannot withstand a gust of wind so powerful. He’s already hanging off the ledge, losing his grip; where are you?

Next to him, Seungmin lets out a soft laugh. “There is.”

Hyunjin doesn’t know what to say.

“It might’ve been me, at some point,” he hums, returning his hand to scratch the back of Kkami’s ears. “But it has always been you, Hyun.”

Four floors above them and inside Hyunjin’s place, you are pacing between his fridge and his bed, nervously awaiting his and Kkami’s return.

Something catches your eye, wide and flat and hung on the wall by his bathroom door. You approach it curiously, your lips pulling into a fond smile the moment you realize all that’s in front of you.

Many of the photographs are of Hyunjin: him in his preteens, dead asleep in bed while dressed head to toe in volleyball gear, braces visible because his mouth is open; an action shot taken at what must’ve been a U21 match, the South Korean flag stitched into the shoulder of his jersey; him with half a birthday cake in front of him and the rest smeared all over his face. There are headlines, too: Underdog team earns district’s first high school volleyball state title; Hwang Hyunjin proves himself worthy of “ace spiker” label at South Korea V. Croatia U19 match; Coach Bang “Christopher” Chan leads Seoul National University to second consecutive KUL championship. There’s one—Who is Hwang Hyunjin? Meet the twenty-year-old instigant of South Korea’s imminent volleyball revolution—beside which he’s written the singular word “mouthful.” You laugh; you agree.

But pinned to the corkboard is also a photograph of Minho, surrounded by stray cats in the alleyway outside a K-BBQ restaurant; his parents cradling Kkami in an apple costume; his high school volleyball team silhouetted against a pretty sunset. Him and Seungmin as kids, covered in grime and scrapes but beaming nonetheless; him and Seungmin at age nineteen, stadium lights on their backs, unadulterated elation on their faces as they charge towards each other, beaming still. Changbin piggybacking Felix through the hallways of the gym, neither of them wearing a shirt; Jisung offering Coach Bang a beer while the latter looks direly unamused (you make a mental note to ask about that one later); what looks like a Rock Lee cosplayer grimacing in the middle of your anthropology classroom.

You rush forward as if decreed by gravitational force. Not too far away is another picture of you, in which you boast a Miffy headband and a face full of foaming cleanser. Then another, your eyes narrowed like that of a sniper taking aim as you’re playing Tetris; you with so many volleyballs piled into your arms that you can’t see your own face; your cheeks squished by a bandaged hand after you lost a bet about pandas (they can swim); you clutching your stomach on the library floor, brought to hysterical tears by Professor Kim’s email. You, you, you.

You bring your pointer finger to this last image, tracing it over the curve of your own cheek. You see a dimple on your face you didn’t know you had. You realize it only comes out for him.

It has always been him.

The front door opens. A man with telephone poles for legs and a long-haired chihuahua in his arms appears behind it. You sense in him that something has changed since you last saw each other. The two of you lock eyes. 

It’s not awkward this time.

Multiple yards behind the service line, Hyunjin is rotating a volleyball in his hands. It feels solid and sentient, an extension of himself held in cotton-clad fingers. He knows how this story will end.

He moves his eyes to his best friend’s back. Four fingers flash back at him twice, signaling a high lob set to the left, the very play they’ve practiced tirelessly for the last five weeks. The breath Hyunjin blows out of his cheeks seems to crystallize in the air, almost solid in all its exhilaration. 

He bends low and throws high. His arms drop behind his body like a spread of feathered wings; his feet fall into place below him like a meteor shower, two consecutive strikes against the earth that fissure its mantle. The lights overhead are bright. His palm pulls taut when it slams into leather. He knows how this story will end.

The volleyball tears towards the ground. It trembles as if scared by all that it holds: the guarantee of a flawless denouement, the catalyst of a radiant future. Hyunjin’s heart is beating hard enough to crack his ribs when he lands back on the ground, when the volleyball lands in the furthest corner of the court. He’s not scared at all.

He balls his fingers into fists.

“JUST LIKE LAST YEAR, BACK TO BACK ON AN ACE—”

An arm seizes Hyunjin’s neck; another drags him onto the floor. His head thuds onto the hardwood with a sound he hears over the whole world detonating. His vision fills with the faces of the people he cares for most, some covered in tears and others rivaling the ceiling with their blinding smiles. He can’t feel most of his body; his sweat drips into his mouth. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care.

“—DEFENDING THEIR TITLE FOR THE THIRD CONSECUTIVE YEAR—”

His eyes find Seungmin’s among the fray. Their hands clap together with such force that Hyunjin cusses at the impact. Seungmin’s gaze burns into his with a ferocity that Hyunjin plans to take to his grave. His setter. His best friend.

He says something inaudible, but Hyunjin reads the words off his lips, and his eyes fill with tears: we win everything.

“—YOUR NATIONAL CHAMPIONS: SEOUL NATIONAL UNIVERSITY!”

Hyunjin’s post-game interview is a lawless affair. He is allowed at most half an answer before a new teammate is barreling over with an animalistic screech or a new friend is screaming congratulations from out of frame.

The reporter is visibly agitated by her final question, unpursing her lips to ask: “Is there anyone you’d like to thank?”

Hyunjin exhales. “You want the short answer or the long—”

Changbin seizes him by the head. Hyunjin bursts into a peal of high-pitched laughter as the libero litters kisses all over his face, nearly crumpling to the floor in his attempt to escape.

“Love you,” he yells before hurrying off. 

“Love you too, Bin.”

Hyunjin turns a sheepish smile to the reporter.

“The short answer,” she deadpans.

He starts counting off his fingers. He thanks his family—his first and last teammates, his eternal anchors. His other family, his actual teammates, the best boys he’s ever known. His coach, who will let him call him Chris someday. His best friend and setter, Kim Seungmin, who set a clothesline on fire once and changed his life forever.

In the distance, a figure emerges from the locker rooms. There’s a navy blue SNU banner draped over your shoulders, two overflowing duffel bags in your hands. Jisung and Jeongin run over to take them from you, and the smile you give them is wide and flushed, a remnant of the elation you shared from afar. The three of you start walking out of the gym.

Hyunjin thanks you.

You didn’t ask for the position, he tells the reporter, but some idiot roped you into it, and they’re all so grateful that you decided to stick around. You know the team better than they know themselves—it’s hard to believe you’ve been with them for five weeks instead of five years.

What are you like? What aren’t you like, is the better question. You’re caring, smart, strong; you see so much goodness in the people around you, all while unaware that it is your warmth that brings it out of them. Flowers only bloom in the sun’s doting radius, and so did he.

You have the sort of soul that incurs the scorn of the stars. They are the only ones to deserve you, they'd argue; you’re wasting your potential among humans when you belong to the sky, and they’d be right.

Hyunjin pokes his tongue into his cheek, suddenly annoyed.

“Why the fuck am I still talking to you?” 

“Pardon?” The reporter returns, but Hyunjin is already vaulting over the bleachers, making a mad dash for the exit. She gives her cameraman an affronted glare. He shrugs.

He explodes onto the concrete, looking around in a frantic haze. He finds the blue banner heading toward the team bus and flanked by his teammates with ease.

He calls out to you.

You glance backwards. Your smile is purely effulgent, your laugh but a faint sigh against the area’s busy thrum. His heart is pounding against his ribs like a battering ram again, but he’s used to this feeling by now. Jeongin and Jisung make themselves scarce.

You’re beautiful. God, you’re fucking beautiful. That was the first thought to enter his mind when he spilled an iced Americano on your lap all those months ago and you looked at him like he hailed from another planet. And it is the first thought to enter his mind now, when he runs up to you and cradles your face in his hands, his touch infinitely, impossibly gentle, and you look at him like he’s everything that has ever existed, everything that ever will. 

Tendrils of your body spray reach him from here, floral and light like a tropical coastline. He could’ve counted your eyelashes—if he didn’t have something far better to do.

“Tell me now if you don’t want me to do this,” he whispers.

A stupid smile crosses the face of the smartest person he knows. “My lips are sealed.”

Hyunjin kisses you. He kisses you until the banner around your shoulders is wrinkled under his touch, until your hands are tangled in his hair and aching his scalp, until the breaths you take are breaths you share, passed between your mouths like a puff of smoke before they’re colliding again.

He kisses you until he’s crying, again, until he’s no longer tasting your lips but your grin, and he kisses you only harder when those scornful stars start to dance before him, for you are his, not theirs, and he’s really won everything, now.

“Hwang, I need you in my office.”

Six months later, Hyunjin sees Coach Bang standing a few yards away with a grim air about him. He stops in his footsteps and glances at his captain, confused.

“I know nothing,” Seungmin says, walking away. “Good luck!”

“Thanks, cap.” Hyunjin swears he’s had this exact exchange before.

Head volleyball coach Christopher Bang’s workspace still reminds Hyunjin of a morgue. But there are two picture frames on his desk now: one of his family in front of the Sydney Opera House, the other of a band of boys clad in navy blue, draped over one another in exhausted bliss. The latter lends the room a much-needed sense of vitality. Too bad it still houses a rusty cyborg.

Hyunjin closes the door and takes a seat. Bang taps a knuckle against the tempered glass of his monitor. “Read.”

From: Nicola Daldello «ndaldello@pvm.com» To: Bang “Christopher” Chan «cb97@snu.edu» Subject: Re: Allianz Milano V. Pallavolo Perugia practice game Christopher, Allow me to apologize for my delayed response as I shared your request with Chairman Piazza. It is my great pleasure to inform you that we would love for Mr. Hwang Hyunjin to participate in our practice game versus Pallavolo Perugia. The match is scheduled for Monday, October 7th, 5-7 P.M. CET in the Giurati Sports Centre in Milan. Mr. Hwang will be playing for Allianz Milano as an outside hitter alongside Mr. Matey Kaziyski, Mr. Osniel Mergarejo, and Mr. Ishikawa Yuki. Please let me know of your availability to call regarding Mr. Hwang’s travel logistics. His transportation and lodging costs will be paid for by the club. I’m looking forward to speaking with you and welcoming Mr. Hwang to Italy once and for all. Yours, Nicola Daldello Assistant Coach, Allianz Milano

“I told you, some opportunities just present themselves,” Bang says, turning his monitor back around. “As for next steps, I need a holistic calendar view of your entire month of October, including social ev—Hwang, is that foam coming out of your mo—NOT ON MY CARPET! HWANG!”

In a park about a ten minute walk away, a small crowd of elderly people are scattered across a few stone tables, hunched over the fading chess boards painted into the granite surfaces. Mrs. Choi whisks away Mrs. Baek’s king with a triumphant yelp.

“I knew it, I knew it, I knew it! That opening is unbeatable!” She swivels towards you, shaking a fist threateningly. “You! Get over here. Your reign is over.”

You are sitting cross-legged in the shade of a broad magnolia tree, clearing out your storage. You tried to take a picture of a particularly rotund pigeon to send to Hyunjin earlier and couldn’t even do that. It was then you decided you couldn't live like this anymore.

“As excited as I am to beat you again, Mrs. Choi, I need ten more minutes,” you call back. 

She presents you with an unpleasant hand gesture. You turn your attention back to your phone, grinning. Two new notifications sit at the top of your lock screen.

Hyunjin: Omw now. Sorry had to talk to Chris Hyunjin: Same park? Y/N: yes Hyunjin: Who’s our opponent today Y/N: mrs. choi Hyunjin: Not that bitch again Y/N: ?

He’ll be here in eight minutes.

You return to the task at hand. You’ve already cleared out your apps, your documents, and videos; all that’s left is the audio files. You conduct a quick mental review. Surely you’ll live without your downloaded music and accidental voice memos.

Instead of hitting the “delete” button, you extract a pair of tangled earphones from your jacket pocket.

You go back to your texts with Hyunjin, open the shared attachments tab, and scroll for a long time before you find the voice note he sent you seven months ago.

He finds you a sobbing mess.

“Hey, hey, whoa.” He’s on his knees in an instant, gathering your hands into his, a world of concern in the brown of his eyes. Your earbuds fall out and clatter onto the cement below. “Baby, what’s happening? Are you okay?”

“Yes,” you say in a flustered haste. “Yes, I’m okay. I don’t—I don’t really know what’s happening.”

“Did that hag do this to you?” He asks this question so seriously. “I’ll beat up a senior citizen, I don’t give a fuck—”

“No!” You let out an ugly laugh through your tears. “No, no. Leave Mrs. Choi alone.”

“Then what is it? What’s wrong?”

Eventually, your vision clears enough for you to look at the man kneeling in front of you. His roots grow out longer every day, his hair by now nearly equal parts gold and black. A spot of sunlight infiltrates the magnolia leaves and lands on his left eye, turning it the hue of melted bronze.

Your fingers drift to the sides of his beautiful face as you lean in close; he smells like a combination of smoky rose and tropical coastlines.

“I’ll tell you later,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his hairline. 

He is dissatisfied with this, hooking a pointer finger beneath your chin, guiding your face back to his. He laves the saltwater from your lips, your tongue, and then you’re smiling again, barely able to remember why you cried in the first place.

You rest your foreheads together. “Have I told you that you look like a bumblebee these days?”

He smiles. “Does that make you my flower, then?”

“Because you’re irresistably drawn to me?”

“No, because I wanna put my pollen in—”

You shove him away. “You are grotesque.”

He returns in a flash. “You love me.”

You kiss him again. And again. And one more time for good measure, during which you mumble I do against his lips, and then you remember something.

“Why did Coach hold you back, by the way?” You pull away, tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. “Are you in trouble again?”

“No, no. The opposite, actually.”

Your brow furrows. “The opposite? What—”

“In this lifetime, please,” Mrs. Choi hollers from the chess tables. You roll your eyes. Hyunjin smiles helplessly.

“Duty calls, my love.”

“Tell me your thing later too?”

“Of course.”

You dust yourself off and stand up, making your way to the battleground. But not before you whisper to Hyunjin, “now watch me beat up a senior citizen.”

He laughs with his whole body, his eyes the shape of crescent moons, his mouth a little rectangle.

“Hypocrite.”

Hyunjin: [1 Audio Message]

This is my seventh take and I’m not recording an eighth. What you get is what you get. I don’t care anymore.

I understand if you don’t wanna talk about what happened at the arcade. I wouldn’t, either. I just wanted to say that you don’t have to do this tutoring thing anymore. I won’t be able to fulfill my end of our deal, so…yeah, it wouldn’t be fair to you. You’ve already done so much for us. For me.

As for team manager, you’ll have to talk to Minho and Coach Bang if you wanna quit. Doesn’t sound like a fun conversation, I know—but if that’s what you decide, I’ll have your back. They don’t scare me. Well, they do. Sometimes.

You’ve been…distant, this week. I’ve known peace and quiet for the first time since we met, and I fucking hate it. I realized I couldn’t care less if you’re my tutor or my team manager or whatever—I just don’t want you to be a stranger. Maybe that’s selfish of me to say, but I’m tired of pretending the idea of losing you doesn’t terrify me. It does. It truly fucking does.

I’m gonna end this here, because I almost just stopped recording on accident and I would’ve committed first degree murder if I had to do this all over again. Sorry that this got so long, and…I’m sorry about everything. You deserve better.

Come back to me whenever you’re ready, okay? I’ll be waiting.

🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@ur-boyfiend・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa・@randomwimp・@automaticpersonabatpaper・@aceofvernons・@linos-kitten・@newhope8・@weedforthoughtz・@hyunverse

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

[pepperonyfic]

A Reason to Fight

Author: fallenstar88 Rating: PG  Word Count: 747 Genre(s): drama Film-specific: post-avengers infinity war Tropes: Pregnancy, Morgan Stark, Protective!Pepper

Summary: Pepper has some happy news for Tony in all the chaos caused by the snap.

Fill for Tony Stark Bingo fill T3: Grief

READ HERE: AO3

[starlightkun]

❧ word count: 11.9k

❧ warnings: cursing, mentions of death/dead people in the context of him being hades, probably more legal jargon than there should be but i tried to make it as easy to understand as possible i promise, it gets pretty existential at some points but never overtly angsty

❧ genre: fluff, getting together, greek gods/goddesses au, hades jaemin, human reader, nades au, paralegal reader, bit of a ham-fisted persephone allegory, inspired by the gods/goddesses assigned to the work it unit in 2020 for this video, appearances by bestie jeno and coworker yangyang

❧ author’s note: ahhh my first fic back after over a year hiatus!! not super accurate to the original greek myths, i was just havin fun with hades as a concept rather than a strict characterization. i also watched mike flanagan’s ‘midnight mass’ and read john milton’s ‘paradise lost’ during the time i was writing this so get ready for some slight spiritual/religious iconography and overtones. hope y’all enjoy, i had so much fun playing around with my writing in this one!!

❧ spotify playlist

⤷ sequel

The god’s—Jaemin’s—eyes continued to stare you down. It felt like he was looking into your soul. And you wanted him to.

“I didn’t summon you,” you told him cautiously. “Or at least I didn’t try to.”

“Okay, so I’m thinking she could accidentally be pushed into oncoming traffic—”

“And who exactly would be doing this accidental pushing?” You cut Jeno off with a scoff.

Currently, you were laying on your back on your bed, head hanging off the end of it and phone in hand. Your best friend, Lee Jeno, was on the other end of the line, jokingly scheming to get you a job at his workplace. Jeno somehow worked as a legal assistant at the best civil law practice in your city, and you, on the other hand, were unemployed. This was what you got for taking an extra year to get your master’s degree to become a paralegal instead of immediately jumping into the workforce after undergrad.

That was where you and Jeno had met: Intro to Philosophy on your very first day of college as two bright-eyed freshmen with surprisingly similar career goals and the same taste in 00s pop punk bands. Now you were a year and a half past graduating with your bachelor’s, and six months past your master’s. And what had that extra effort gotten you? Many, many interviews that all ended the same way: You’re “an incredible applicant,” but “too educated” for the pay of the position and/or “too inexperienced.”

Jeno, on the other hand, had declined your suggestion to further your education together and instead landed himself a legal assistant job right out of college. So now here you were, living off the remnants of your student loans and savings as you desperately hunted for a paralegal job.

Your best friend’s elaborate plans to get you a job at his firm would typically make you laugh, but this time you couldn’t even muster up a chuckle. Earlier today when you checked your bank accounts during a break from emailing out your résumé, you were confronted with the fact that your savings were running out; you didn’t have enough to even get you to the end of your lease in six months.

“God will, duh,” Jeno said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. His current plan was centered around a junior partner’s paralegal dying of a myriad of mysterious causes, and apparently this time involved divine intervention too.

“Oh, right, of course,” you rolled your eyes.

“I’m serious about the fact that Yejin needs to go, though. I have no clue how she’s still employed. And you would be the perfect fit for Ms. Haseul, she kind of does a little bit of everything, but her main focus is general corporate representation. Wasn’t that what you specialized in for grad school?”

“It is, yes.”

“Then there we go!”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Jeno.”

You sighed. All this talk about a job that you’ll never have was bringing down your spirits. “Anyway, I have half a leftover pizza in the fridge calling my name right now. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Alright, bye, Y/N! I’ll keep my ears peeled for any sign of dissent in the ranks so you can slip your way in!”

“Right, bye.”

Hanging up, another sigh tumbled out of your mouth as you tossed your phone somewhere further up your bed. Truthfully, you weren’t hungry in the slightest, you just wanted to get out of that conversation. You brought your hands to your face to rub circles against your temples and closed your eyes; you were getting a headache. Hanging upside down off the foot of your bed certainly wasn’t helping, but you couldn’t be fucked to move at this point.

A moment of self-pity later and you opened your eyes with all intentions to get up and take your migraine medication, but you froze when you were met by a dark shape. Squinting, it took you a second to process that the shape was someone’s legs and shoes, and you let out a yelp. Startled, you went to twist yourself around to face whoever was in your room, but just managed to fall off your bed instead. You very narrowly avoided snapping your neck, landing on your shoulder instead, eliciting yet another yelp, but this time one of pain.

Scrambling to your feet, you were now face to face with the intruder. It was a man, younger, maybe around your age, donned in all black. Black shoes, black slacks, black suit jacket, and black vest underneath that was buttoned but with a neckline cut plenty low enough to show a good expanse of his chest. He had an eerie beauty to him: his face just bordering on gaunt with pronounced cheekbones, a sharp jawline, and a hint of bags under his eyes as if he had just woken up from a night of restless sleep. But he didn’t seem to have recently awoken, very much alert and well put-together in every other aspect. His black hair was perfectly styled back from his face save for one stray lock towards the middle, and his eyes were so dark they reminded you of black holes, threatening to sweep you away forever into a cold unknown. He had more piercings than you could count in the moment, silver and the odd jewel adorning his ears. The vest showed off four or five separate silver chains around his neck.

“What the hell are you doing in my apartment?” You breathed out, desperately trying to blink away the vertigo from your sudden change in orientation.

The man was between you and the doorway, his body language not indicating that he was blocking your way out intentionally. His hands were tucked in the pockets of his pants as he cocked an eyebrow up at your question. He seemed entirely relaxed and yet the air around you still felt as if it were growing colder by the second.

“I should be asking you that. What the hell am I doing in your apartment?” He repeated your question back to you, amusement in his tone as he studied you from head to toe, then back up.

“What?”

“I was summoned by someone. I’m not summoned often, usually Eros or Aphrodite are at the beck and call of humans.”

The names made your head spin, “Eros? Aphrodite? Like, the Greek gods?”

“Yes, of course.” One of his hands left his pocket, the many rings along his fingers glistening in your ceiling fan lights as he went to push the stray lock of hair back from his face. “Humans are always wishing for love or beauty or fame. Not as often are they wishing for my gifts, or at least not with such an intensity that I’m inclined to entertain those wishes.”

Something about his candor inclined you to ask, “Who are you?”

“I’ve had a couple names. Pluto, and you probably recognize me as Hades. But you can call me Jaemin.”

His words made your heart thunder in your chest once again. You wanted to tell yourself that this guy was crazy, but he sounded so assured and calm that it gave you pause. Not mention that he had just appeared in your home out of nowhere.

“Hades? God of the Underworld? In my apartment?”

“The very same. Please, call me Jaemin. As long as I can call you Y/N.”

“Oh, you know my name already,” you stated weakly.

The god’s—Jaemin’s—eyes continued to stare you down. It felt like he was looking into your soul. And you wanted him to.

“I didn’t summon you,” you told him cautiously. “Or at least I didn’t try to.”

He took a step towards you. “And yet here I am.”

Another step. “I was brought here by a desire, your desire. So, what do you really, really want, Y/N?”

His words dripped off his tongue and wound their way through your mind. “A loved one back from the dead? The death of an enemy? To die yourself? So much money you could never spend it all in one lifetime?”

Another step.

“No, none of those,” you shook your head vigorously, feeling like every sense of yours was alight with his proximity to you. Every sound was deafening, your skin tingled, and the scent of cinnamon and citrus danced around you. One more step and he’d practically be on top of you. “I don’t want any of that.”

Another step. He was right in front of you now, his startlingly cool breath washing over your face as he asked, “Then what do you want?”

“I just—” your hands were clenched into fists at your sides, fingernails digging into your palms as you struggled to find the words. “Want to work at Kim & Moon.”

Jaemin’s head cocked to the side as he studied your face, “Why?”

“It’s the best civil law firm in the city. I know it’s where I belong, if I could just get a job there, I know I’d do well.”

“This job? Does it pay well?”

“I-I don’t know,” you confessed. “Jeno hasn’t ever told me how much he makes, but that’s only part of why I want to work there. If all I cared about was paying my bills, I would’ve taken the first job at any sleazy ambulance chaser’s office I could find. But I’d be wasted on something like that. I’m smart, well-studied, and I’ll be good at what I do. I just know it.”

He chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.

“Yeah, I like that.”

Then all at once, Jaemin was no longer in front of you, and you felt like you could breathe properly again. He dropped himself onto your bed, settling in to recline leisurely against your headboard, legs crossed at the ankle.

“Alright, I’ll grant your wish,” he declared, slipping one of his rings off to roll it along his knuckles. The silver band caught the light and nearly distracted you from his words.

Pulling yourself out of your momentary trance, you immediately said, “But I didn’t ask you to—”

“Of course you did, or I wouldn’t be here. Do we really have to go through this again?” His eyes were fixed on the ring. “Now do you want that job or not?”

“If I say yes, what do you want in return? I doubt Hades himself is in the business of charity.”

“Smart. There will be an exchange, obviously.”

“Then my answer is no, I don’t want to be selling my soul or something.”

Jaemin suddenly flicked the ring up, watching as it did one, two, three flips in the air before landing in the palm of his hand, “As lovely as I’m sure your soul is, I’m not particularly interested in taking it.”

“Well then what would you want from me?”

“A third of your life.” He said it simply, as if you two were talking about him borrowing a cup of sugar, not your life.

“Wh—”

“Let me finish,” he instructed sternly, firm gaze once again on you. “Spend two-thirds of your year here, then spend the remaining third of it with me.”

“If I take four months off work I won't be able to keep the job you get me.”

“It doesn’t have to be consecutive. Give me your nights and I’ll call it even.”

“Why? Why me? Why would you give me so much for just… hanging out with you?”

He shrugged, “I’m tired of spending all my time with dead people.”

Despite his casual tone, you swore you saw something much sadder flash across his face for a moment. It was gone as soon as you had registered it, making you wonder if you just imagined it. When you remained quiet, chewing on the inside of your cheek in thought, he stood up and crossed the room to once again stop just a mere inch or two in front of you, “Do we have a deal, Y/N?”

A chance to use your degree and skills like you’d always dreamed, just for hanging out with a god every night? It sounded... not quite too good to be true, but definitely too easy. You couldn’t remember Hades being portrayed as a tricksy sort in the myths, and everything Jaemin had done tonight—aside from appearing in your room out of the blue—made you think that you could probably trust him.

“Yeah, sure,” you agreed, looking up from where you had been twiddling your thumbs anxiously to his hauntingly beautiful face. “Do we have to do anything to make the deal official or whatever?”

“What, like a kiss?” He grinned at you mischievously. “Since you asked…”

“Jaemin!” You scoffed, feeling like he was teasing you now.

“You’re the one who brought it up.”

“No I didn’t!”

“Anyway, a handshake will do just fine,” Jaemin held his right hand out in the small space between your bodies.

You took it, feeling the cold from his fingers seep into your own, and gave it one firm shake. Before you could take your hand back, he’d tightened his grip and turned it over. His other hand came up to slip a ring onto your ring finger. It was the same silver band he had been playing with before, and it magically changed size to fit your finger perfectly. Jaemin bowed slightly, bringing your hand up to press a feather-light kiss to the knuckle of the very finger he’d just put the ring on. His lips were cool like the rest of him, but you still felt warm at his actions.

“There,” he straightened back up and let go of your hand finally. “That should do it.”

You looked down at the ring he’d just put on your finger. It was a simple silver band of medium width that reminded you of your father’s wedding band.

“Goodbye for now, Y/N.”

“Yeah—” you cut yourself off when you brought your eyes up to see that Jaemin was gone. Staring at the empty space where he just was, you murmured, “Bye, Jaemin.”

That night you dreamt of a man cloaked in shadows guiding you to a tree, instructing you to pick the golden fruit that was growing on it. You gazed at the fruit, in a daze, mesmerized by their beauty. They were so inviting, the man’s voice soothing, and you lifted a hand up towards one.

You groaned against the bright sunlight streaming in through a crack between your curtains. Directly on your face. You threw your left arm over your eyes to block it out as you continued lying in bed, letting your mind and body wake up gradually.

Memories of last night’s visitor came back to you, and you sighed. Surely it was a dream. A weird, weird dream that your mind conjured up in an attempt to fulfill your wish for a job.

But when you squinted your eyes open and brought your right hand up enough to look at your fingers, the silver band that sat there let you know that it was real. You’d been visited last night, by Hades, who said he’d grant your wish for a job in exchange for a third of your life. And you said yes.

The loud sound of your phone buzzing on your nightstand prompted you to roll over and grab it to look at the caller ID. Lee Jeno.

“Yeah?” You couldn’t even muster up a proper greeting as you picked up, still bogged down by sleep.

“Y/N, great news!”

You glanced at the time on your phone before bringing it back up to your ear, “Jeno, it’s not even 9:30 a.m., why are you calling me? You can’t be on lunch.”

“I know, but as soon as I heard, I had to tell you!”

“Tell me what, exactly?”

“There’s a job opening at the firm! You have to apply!”

That woke you up.

“An opening?” You asked, shooting up into a sitting position.

“Jo Haseul, the junior partner at the firm I’ve been telling you about, her paralegal won the lottery and quit on the spot. No two weeks’ notice, they’re urgently hiring her replacement. I’ll text you the firm administrator’s email for you to send your résumé to!”

“That would be great, thank you, Jeno.”

“Of course!” He said brightly as another phone began ringing in the background. “I’ve got to go now, Ms. Kang is buzzing me.”

“Right, thank you again.”

“Bye!”

“Bye,” you brought your phone down to see he had already ended the call.

As you went to grab your laptop from the foot of your bed to begin drafting that email, your eyes got caught by the silver ring on your hand.

A week later and you were walking into your first day of work at Kim & Moon. The firm administrator, Jeong Jaehyun, was showing you around, and finally stopped his tour in an open-floor plan portion of the office where a grouping of eight desks were. A couple of them were empty, the others filled by various men and women hard at work, and also Lee Jeno.

“Y/N!” Jeno waved at you enthusiastically from where he was on the other side of all the desks, and you lifted your hand to give a small wave back.

“Oh, you know Lee Jeno?” Mr. Jeong asked as he guided you over towards your friend.

“Yes, we were in the same undergrad program.”

“Good, it should be easier to settle in with a familiar face nearby.” The administrator smiled as he gestured to the empty desk behind your friend. The one beside it was occupied by another young man incredibly focused on his screen, headphones in as his fingers flitted over his keyboard and he fervently typed out a court document.

“This is your desk, Ms. Y/L/N. Ms. Jo, your attorney, is on a call right now but she has been informed of your arrival. I’m sure she’ll meet with you when she can. In the meantime, please acquaint yourself with your workspace. Your computer is already logged in, and all of your passwords are on the paper right there. Is there anything you need at the moment?”

“No, no. Thank you so much, Mr. Jeong,” you bowed your head politely to him.

“Of course. Please let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you.” He pointed to the landline sitting on your desk next to the computer monitors, “I have a quick-dial button right next to Reception’s. Buzz me if you need something.”

“I will, thank you.”

And with that, Jeong Jaehyun took his leave of the pod that you were in. You sat in your chair, taking in the sparse supplies on your desk: two computer monitors, keyboard, mouse, a landline phone, a couple pens, and one sheet of paper laid across your keyboard. It was a list of your login credentials for your computer, work email, and the firm’s file management software, along with Mr. Jeong’s extension and quick-dial button name.

You turned back around to where you knew Jeno was already waiting for you. Your friend was practically vibrating with excitement in his own desk chair.

“This is so exciting!” Jeno exclaimed, momentarily drawing the attention of all the other employees in your vicinity before they went back to whatever they were doing. He continued on much quieter, “I told you you’d kill it at your interview.”

“Right,” you nodded, trying not to think about the silver ring on your right hand. “Thanks, Jeno, I’m excited to start.”

“I’ll give you the rundown of everyone at the firm, come here,” he scooted his chair over to make room for you to roll yours up to his desk.

His fingers quickly flitted across his keyboard and mouse to pull up the firm website. Hovering over the tab labeled ‘Our Attorneys,’ you saw a list of names drop down. He clicked on the first one, Kim Chaeyoung. It pulled up a profile, the picture showing a very determined older woman, her arms crossed over her chest as she very resolutely stared down the camera.

“This is Kim Chaeyoung, the ‘Kim’ in Kim & Moon. She’s the most senior attorney at the firm, and mostly does corporate compliance and medical malpractice law. She just stepped down from being managing partner at the end of last year.”

He clicked the next name on the list, Moon Taeil. This time a man was on your screen, a bit older than you, but not by too much. No more than ten or fifteen years for sure, quite young to be a managing partner at such a large firm. His gaze wasn’t quite as intense as Kim Chaeyoung’s, but it held an intelligence and wisdom clearly beyond his years.

“Mrs. Kim stepped down to let this man, Moon Taeil, take over as managing partner. Something about wanting younger blood in charge but…” Jeno looked around the pod before he dropped his voice to a whisper so soft you had to lean in to hear him, “The rumor is that Mrs. Kim is going to announce her retirement at the holiday party at the end of this year.”

“And what sort of law does Mr. Moon do?” You questioned.

“Mostly insurance litigation. He tends to get the nastier incidents though: shootings, stabbings, fires, the odd dog bite.”

You then went through the senior partners before getting to the first of the junior partners on the list.

“And here is Jo Haseul, your attorney. She’s the most senior of the junior partners, and rumors also say that she’s going to be made a senior partner by the end of this year.”

“You love your office gossip, don’t you?”

You studied the woman on screen. She was younger than you had expected, a fierceness in her eyes that both intimidated you and inspired you to follow her wherever she led.

“This isn’t even the juicy stuff, wait until you hear about the affair Mr. Noh supposedly had with his assistant in the 80s,” Jeno scoffed, then turned his attention back to the woman on screen. “Anyway, Ms. Haseul is Mrs. Kim’s protégé. She mostly does general corporate matters, medical malpractice, and the occasional pro bono representation for women in need. Restraining orders, child custody, divorce, whatever comes in the door. If you really want to get to know her, ask about those cases.”

“She sounds incredible.”

“I told you you’d be perfect for each other.” Your friend then pulled up the next junior partner, “This is Kim Doyoung, he’s Mrs. Kim’s son but you’d never be able to tell by how they act around each other. All business. I think he doesn’t want people to assume he only got his position because of his mother, but nobody who has actually spoken to Mrs. Kim would ever think she’d do something like that. She’s got some serious integrity.”

Jeno was about to move on to the next attorney profile, a ‘Qian Kun,’ when you heard a ringing from behind you.

“Oh, that’s you, Y/N!”

You quickly wheeled yourself back over to your desk, picking up your desk phone after the third ring, “Y/L/N Y/N speaking.”

“Ms. Y/L/N,” a woman’s voice was on the other end, and when you glanced at the caller ID, you saw ‘Jo Haseul’ across the screen. “This is Jo Haseul. Please come to my office now.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“I’m down the hall. Ask another assistant if you need help finding it.”

“Will do, thank you.”

She hung up, and you rushed to stand up. Grabbing one of the pens you saw earlier, you frantically scanned for a notepad to write with, but there wasn’t one on hand at your desk. You whipped around to face your friend, “Jeno, do you have a notepad I can use? Ms. Haseul wants to see me.”

“Here,” he handed you a notepad slightly bigger than your hand, spiral-bound at the top.

“Thank you!”

“The attorney offices are down that hall,” he pointed. “And Ms. Haseul’s will be on your left.”

“Got it, thanks!” You hurried in the direction he gestured.

Thankfully, everyone’s names were engraved on metal nameplates on the doors, making it easy to know when you had stopped in front of your attorney’s. Rapping your knuckles against the wood, you waited for a response.

“Come in.”

You entered already bowing, “Y/L/N Y/N, ma’am. It’s an honor to be here and I am very grateful for the opportunity to work with you.”

Jo Haseul appraised you for a moment from where she was sat behind her desk. She then nodded, “It’s nice to meet you. Now please sit, Y/L/N.”

“Yes ma’am,” you quickly sat in the armchair she had gestured to.

After brief introductions, Ms. Haseul gave you the rundown of the kinds of cases she tended to deal with—which generally lined up with what Jeno had told you earlier, her management style, workflow, and an overview of the duties you’ll be expected to fulfill as her paralegal. At the end of it, you left with pages of notes, a stack of papers in your arms, and your first tasks to do for her.

Stopping at your desk, you didn’t even sit as you organized the papers into three stacks: to correct, to file, and to copy. You picked up the last stack of things that Ms. Haseul wanted copies of, then turned to your friend, “Hey, Jeno, where’s the copier?”

The assistant sat at the desk beside yours was the one who spoke up in response, his headphones set aside now, “Oh, I’m going there right now, I’ll show you!”

“Thanks, Yangyang,” Jeno said, then nodded for you to go along with the other man.

Yangyang grabbed his own paper before leading the way out from the desks. He took off in the opposite direction from the offices down a different hallway, “It’s down this hall, first door on the right.” He then opened said door to reveal a room with four large copy machines in it.

“I’m Liu Yangyang, by the way,” your coworker introduced himself, stopping in front of one machine. “I’m Qian Kun and Dong Sicheng’s legal assistant. They’re Ms. Haseul’s associate attorneys that work under her so you and I will overlap quite a bit. Sicheng usually handles corporate matters with Ms. Haseul while Kun does the med mal portion.”

“I’m Y/L/N Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, Yangyang.”

“You too, Y/N. And I’m sure you’ll meet my attorneys at some point today. I apologize in advance, and yes, they are always like that. Kun’s a workaholic who would be here until two in the morning if somebody didn’t send him home, and Sicheng… you are allowed to say no to him, and I encourage it, actually. Booksmart but doesn’t quite get social cues. I’ve seen him accidentally sweet talk his way into having an assistant pick up his dry cleaning before.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah, I had to intervene to ensure feminism wasn’t set back fifty years,” Yangyang scoffed.

“Women everywhere commend you for your service to the cause, Yangyang,” you nodded solemnly, to which your coworker snickered.

“The dude’s wicked smart but dumber than a box of rocks. Associates, you know?” He shook his head then returned to instructing you about the machine.

After Yangyang had shown you how to use the multipurpose machine—scanning and uploading, printing, copying, faxing—he took the copies that he had made and left you there. Nobody was at the other copiers, making you the only one in the room. You took a deep breath to compose yourself after having so much information thrown at you from all sides. Right now, at this moment, all you needed to do was make a copy.

Putting the first document in where Yangyang had shown you, you’d just started tapping the touchscreen through to the copying option when a dark figure appeared at the edge of your vision. Your head snapped up to look at the man leaning against the wall beside the copy machine you were at.

You hadn’t seen Jaemin since the night you’d made your deal. You’d spent the entire next night anxiously waiting for him to appear, but he never did, and you eventually gave up and fell asleep. He didn’t come any night after that, and you kind of thought he might’ve forgotten about you, or maybe didn’t really want you to hold up your end of the deal. Realized that he could find better company than you.

But here he was, in your workplace, smirk on his face and delight in his tone, “Surprise! I came to visit you on your first day of work. I’m so proud!”

First rolling your eyes at the sarcasm in his words and the fake tear he wiped away, you then fervently glanced towards the door to the copy room, “What are you doing here?”

“I’m checking on my investment,” he answered coolly.

“What, me? You can check on me at my home tonight, not at my job on my first day of work! Somebody could walk in, how would I explain you?”

“Nobody’s coming.”

“The deal was that I would give you my nights. Sun’s still up.”

“Yes, you’re doing just fine,” he nodded as he adjusted his black tie, seeming satisfied with his ‘check in.’ “I’ll see you tonight, Y/N.”

And he was gone in the blink of an eye.

You immediately flopped down onto your couch when you got home that night. That was the most work you’d done in a while; you were tired both physically and mentally. But it was a good sort of tired. You finally had a job.

“Hi, honey, how was work?”

You shot up at the voice, knowing exactly who it was. Jaemin was poised in your armchair, half a smirk already on his lips. He was in all-black again, though a slightly different suit from last time, his slacks and suit jacket had thin dark grey pinstripes, over a black silk dress shirt with the top three buttons open.

“Oh, uh, it was good,” you said.

Silence fell over you two, and you started fidgeting uncomfortably as it dragged on. Finally, you said, “So... what do you want to do?”

“Have you eaten dinner yet?”

“I feel like you already know the answer to that, but no. I just got home.”

“Let’s get dinner then. Where would you like to go?”

“Uhm...” you wracked your brain for some places nearby. “There’s a ramen place down the street. Let me change out of my work clothes first, hold on.”

Re-emerging from your bedroom in more casual clothes, you saw that Jaemin had moved from his spot on your armchair and was instead standing, gazing out the window. And again, for a brief moment, you could’ve sworn he looked... lonely.

“I’m ready,” you announced yourself. It felt wrong to keep looking at him like that.

Jaemin turned around, focusing a dazzling smile on you, “Lead the way, Y/N.”

The place you were thinking of really was just a couple blocks down the street. Mumbling a thanks to Jaemin as he held the door open for you, you were immediately met with a packed restaurant. It was seat-yourself, and you managed to spot a small table for two in the very back corner, right beside the entrance to the kitchen. Guiding Jaemin over to it, you felt your face turn warm as he pulled your chair out for you.

The menu was a singular piece of laminated paper taped to the tabletop, and your eyes skimmed it. You ordered the same thing every time at this point, but it was something to look at other than the god in front of you. Speaking of, he was a god. Did he even need to eat?

“Jaemin.” You said his name as you looked up from the menu.

His eyes flicked up from where they’d also been reading the options, “Hm?”

“Do you even eat, like, normal food?”

“I can if I want to, I just don’t need it to survive like you do.”

“Oh, I see. And do you... like it?”

“Quite.”

It was then that a familiar waiter came up to your table, “Hi, Y/N! It’s been a while. Almost didn’t recognize you at a table instead of the bar.”

Typically, you would come by yourself and sit at the bartop to eat alone alongside all the other solo patrons. You rolled your eyes at the slight jab, “Thank you, Chenle, I feel so welcome.”

“Aw, you know you’re one of my favorite regulars,” the young man snickered.

“Yeah, whatever. Sorry I haven’t been by lately, I didn’t exactly have the funds to eat out.”

“That’s okay. But you’re back, does that mean that you found a job?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Congrats!” He then focused his attention on the man across from you, “Hi, I’m Zhong Chenle.”

You moved to introduce the two before Jaemin could open his mouth, afraid of what he would’ve said. “Chenle, this is Jaemin, a... friend of mine. Jaemin, this is Chenle, he’s a server here.”

“And I’ll be serving you two tonight. So, what can I get you?”

After taking your orders, Chenle took off to put them in. You shifted in your seat awkwardly. What were you and Jaemin even supposed to talk about?

“You usually sit at the bar?” Jaemin questioned.

“I’m not an alcoholic, despite how Chenle made it sound,” you scoffed. “I usually come by myself, and the bar is the quickest place to get your food and get out. And that way I don’t take up any tables that groups can use.”

“I feel honored that you brought me here, then.”

You searched his face for any hint that he was teasing you, but all you found was sincere curiosity. Suddenly feeling uncomfortable, you changed the topic, “So why did you show up tonight? You didn’t come all last week.”

“Well, I had to hold up my end of the deal first.”

“Right, that... makes sense.” Realizing that you hadn’t even thanked him for whatever he’d done for you, you added, “Thank you, Jaemin. For you know, the job.”

“You’re welcome.”

Chenle returned then with a small bottle of soju for each of you, informing you that your food would be ready soon.

“So is it everything you’d dreamed of? Working at Kim & Moon?” Jaemin asked before lifting his bottle to his lips.

“Today was only my first day but... yes. I’ve already learned a lot, was listened to when I spoke, and the partner I work for seems like an incredible woman so far. It’s wonderful.”

“I hope it stays that wonderful for you, Y/N. I’d like to see your eyes light up like this often.”

Looking down at the green bottle in front of you, you twisted your ring around your finger nervously. You didn’t know what to say back, your heart fluttering around in your chest. Jaemin was charming, too charming for your own good, and you sort of felt like you really shouldn’t have expected any less from a god.

“Are you curious?”

You snapped your head up to look at your companion, not even attempting to hide your confusion at his words, “About what?”

“What I did, to get you the job.”

“I mean, I am. I assume you had something to do with Yejin winning the lottery? You’re the god of everything below the Earth, including precious gems, gold, silver. The god of riches, wealth. In the modern day that would translate to how we view wealth and riches now, since I’m not really out here buying my groceries with rubies and gold coins. Right?”

Jaemin’s obsidian eyes practically glittered as he listened to you speak, his lips curling up at one corner before he took another swig of his soju. When you were finished, he set the bottle back onto the table to answer your question, “Hit the nail on the head.”

“Honestly, I’m just glad you did that instead of killing her or something horrible.”

His head jerked back as he looked at you with bewilderment, “Now why would I do that? I’m the god of the dead, not death. If you wanted her dead you’re talking to the wrong deity.”

“I don’t want her dead, that’s my point. That’s what Jeno was joking about on the phone before you showed up; I didn’t want you to get any ideas.”

“I don’t really find it fun to just push people into traffic.”

“So you were listening to—” You cut yourself off as you saw Chenle approaching with your food. Not a conversation to be having in front of your normal human waiter.

After he had left your table again, you returned to what you were saying before, “So you were listening to our conversation.”

“Can’t help myself, I’m nosy when it comes to the humans who summon me,” Jaemin admitted.

“So what does Hades do for fun then?” You asked lightheartedly, slurping at some of your broth.

“While I don’t necessarily enjoy pushing people into traffic, I do find it much more fun to let a human become suddenly awash with money and watch what happens when they eventually lose it all. See what they spend it on, who they spend it on. Themselves mostly, sometimes others, trying to get people to be their friends or lovers simply because of what they’ll buy them. I’ll watch them do what humans do best, use and abuse the gifts that were given to them. And then once they’ve been sucked dry both in their finances and their souls, find out how they try to move on.”

“Is that what you’re doing with me?” You set your spoon down, voice wavering. “Watching and waiting for me to end up like that?”

Jaemin took a pause, shifting forward in his seat before responding, “One of my favorite things about humans is how resilient you are. Always trying to bounce back. It’s fascinating to find out your breaking point, when you have no more bounce left.”

An absolutely devilish smile played across his features as he seemed to take delight in the notion. He didn’t exactly answer your question, but the lack thereof felt like enough.

“Why?”

“Because it’s different for every person, and always further than I think it’ll be. Even after so long, knowing that humans can still surprise me, it’s refreshing. Makes me think that…”

You blinked at him, waiting for him to finish. He was definitely well aware that he had your rapt attention, basking in the drama he had created by pausing. His eyes settled on you firmly, holding eye contact as something softer entered them.

“Maybe you’ll surprise me, too.”

Jaemin came back to your apartment with you after you’d decided you were full. You hadn’t had much of an appetite after that harrowing conversation over dinner, and he’d left you with a lot of thinking to do. It wasn’t every day that you heard a god’s perspective on human lives—on toying with human lives, watching for their eventual breakdown in the aftermath of the ‘gifts’ he gave them. If that’s what it did to them all, it seemed much more like a curse to you.

And you were of course thinking about whether it would happen to you too. You hadn’t wished for riches or wealth directly, definitely not so much that it would have the same effect on your life as winning the lottery. But that didn’t mean that you weren’t worried. And the idea of Jaemin watching you every step of the way, waiting to see when you’d slip up, when you’d meet your breaking point, made you shiver instinctually.

“Are you cold?” Jaemin’s question broke the silence that had been hovering over you two since you started the walk from the restaurant back to your apartment.

“Oh, no, I—”

But he had already shrugged his suit jacket off and laid it over your shoulders. There was no residual body heat in it, but it did help block out some of the breeze blowing past you. You hadn’t noticed the temperature at all, too wrapped up in your own thoughts.

“Thanks,” you muttered, wrapping the jacket tighter around your shoulders. It smelled faintly of spiced citrus.

“No worries.”

Back in your apartment, you wanted nothing more than to lay in bed staring up at your ceiling as you gave yourself over fully to the existential crisis you were descending into. But you still had a god to entertain.

A glance at the change in time on your stovetop clock let you know that you were only a couple hours into your commitment. You hoped he didn’t expect you to stay up all night with him. Leaving Jaemin in your living room once again, you changed into pajamas in your bedroom. If he was going to be with you every night from here on out, you were at least going to be comfy for some of it.

Jaemin was back in the armchair he had appeared in at the beginning of the night, one knee crossed over the other and a book in hand. You paused behind him on your way back into the living room to peer over his shoulder, trying to read the title at the top of the page he was on.

“The Turn of the Screw?” You questioned, walking around him to plop down onto your couch.

“I found it on your shelf,” he gestured to the built-in shelves in the walls around the recess that held your TV. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Knock yourself out, I haven’t touched it since I had to read it for a ghost literature class like… four years ago.”

“Ghost literature class?” Jaemin lowered the book to rest on his leg while he regarded you with an eyebrow raised. “Did you go to school in the Underworld or something?”

“It was actually called like ‘Ghost Stories and Haunted Fiction of the 19th Century’ or something. The students just called it ghost lit. We read all these spooky stories, including The Turn of the Screw,” you explained, then looked around your living room. “I have a few more of them around here somewhere. Bram Stoker’s Dracula, Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein— I can’t remember the full reading list, but they’re scattered around.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He raised the book back up to continue reading intently.

Since he seemed occupied for the moment, you pulled out your phone to distract yourself.

A couple hours later and you let out your first yawn of the night. You’d thought that Jaemin was so enraptured by the book that he wasn’t paying any attention to you. The chuckle he gave from across the room proved you wrong, however. There was definitely nothing funny in that story. You threw him a scowl, but he neither looked up from the book nor said anything.

Shifting in your spot to get comfy again, you returned to the article that you’d been reading on your phone and your guest was quiet once again. Another yawn split your mouth, and the words on your screen swam in your vision as your eyes teared up.

“Tired, Y/N?” Jaemin’s eyes still hadn’t left the book as he continued, “You should go to sleep, early day at work tomorrow, right?”

“And what are you going to do?”

“I thought I’d finish this book, if that’s alright with you. I’ve got about… thirty, forty pages left.”

“Oh, uh, sure,” you were surprised both that he was encouraging you to go to sleep during the time you’d agreed to forfeit to him, and that he wanted to finish the book.

Standing up from the couch, you shuffled into your kitchen to fill up a glass of water. After knocking back your nightly medication, you placed the water on your nightstand and went into your bathroom to do your nighttime routine. You found yourself hovering at the threshold between the hallway that contained your bedroom and bathroom, and the living room. It felt weird to just go to bed with someone else in your home, at least not without saying goodnight to them.

“Uhm,” you cleared your throat.

Jaemin turned to look at you from over the back of the armchair, “Yes, Y/N?”

“I just wanted to…” you felt the words catch in your throat. Pushing through your awkwardness, you twisted the ring around your finger as you forced the words out, “Goodnight, Jaemin.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He smiled at you before turning back around to face his book, “See you tomorrow.”

And with that, you retreated into your bedroom for the night, falling asleep almost as soon as your head hit the pillow.

The man of shadows was in your dreams again that night, drawing you to the tree with the golden fruit. His voice once more invited you to partake in picking the fruit, and your hand inched up, up, up, towards one. Your fingers had just wrapped around the fruit, ready to pluck it off the branch, when you woke up.

When you awoke the next morning, you went through the motions of your morning routine, strolling from your bathroom out to your kitchen, toothbrush sticking out of your mouth. You continued brushing your teeth with one hand as you grabbed the freshly popped toast from the toaster to put on a plate. As you went to lean over the kitchen sink to spit the toothpaste foam out of your mouth, your eyes got caught on something in the living room, which the sink overlooked. There was a small black pouch sitting on the coffee table, on the corner closest to the armchair.

After wiping your mouth off, you walked over to your coffee table, intrigue building as you picked up the velvet drawstring pouch. Looking around, you were only greeted by your empty apartment. This wasn’t here last night. Or at least, not before you went to sleep.

Pulling it open, you gently shook the contents out onto your palm. It was a silver bracelet, intricate filigree running along the band that was inlaid with gorgeous green and blue gems.

Jaemin’s words from dinner last night echoed in your head.

‘I do find it much more fun to let a human become suddenly awash with money and watch what happens when they eventually lose it all… It’s fascinating to find out your breaking point…’

A foreboding feeling colored your vision, and you rushed to tuck the bracelet back into the bag and throw it onto the table.

When Jaemin came that night, you were cooking dinner in your kitchen. He appeared there with you, leaning against the counter next to your sink as you were standing over the stovetop.

“Good evening, Y/N,” he greeted you.

“Hello, Jaemin.” You steeled your nerves, giving as nonchalant of a nod as you could towards the living room, “You left something here last night. It’s on the coffee table.”

The god regarded you with a tilted head, and you felt his eyes on your empty wrists, “That was for you.”

“I didn’t ask you for anything like that.”

“I know. It was a gift.”

“The job was plenty, Jaemin.”

He was silent as he continued to watch you cook. After a grueling couple of minutes of absolute silence, his eyes burning into you the whole time, you finally turned to properly look him in the face. Throwing on a smile, you informed him, “Dinner’s ready. Ravioli, would you like some?”

“Yes, please.”

You set two places at your dinner table before plating two portions of the pasta. Jaemin was still in his place next to the sink, observing your movements.

“Go ahead and sit, I’m just going to grab a couple glasses,” you gestured towards the kitchen table.

Without even waiting to see if he’d obey, you bustled over to a cabinet and took out two wine glasses, then grabbed a bottle of white wine you’d been meaning to finish off. When you turned back to the kitchen table, you were pleasantly surprised to see Jaemin waiting there patiently, fidgeting with his silverware. Setting the two glasses down, you noticed that Jaemin’s silverware was in different places than you had put them in when you hastily set the table. The fork was on the left of the plate, the knife and spoon on the right with the knife directly beside the plate and the spoon on the other side of the knife. Yours on the other hand were in the haphazard places atop the napkin that you had put them earlier.

“Apologies for the subpar fork placement,” you said, uncorking the wine to begin pouring it out first for Jaemin.

“Oh, it’s just a habit,” he explained. His tone then turned as teasing as yours had been, “My apologies for making you think your fork placement was anything other than above par.”

You then poured for yourself as you continued the banter, “Yeah, you know, I really pride myself on my utensil arranging skills. My feelings have been gravely wounded. I’ll never recover from this.”

“Then would you consider taking this,” he procured a small black pouch from his pocket, and you had a suspicion as to exactly what was in it, “as repentance, with my sincerest apologies?”

A bitter sigh came out of your mouth at him ruining the perfectly normal moment you were enjoying, “Jaemin, I told you I don’t want any more gifts from you.”

The way you spat out the word ‘gifts’ was apparently a lightbulb moment for him as he set the pouch down on the table and all playfulness dropped from his face. Disinterested in whatever he was going to say to try to convince you to take it, you picked up your fork, using the side of the tongs to cut one of your raviolis in half.

“Y/N…” he said your name almost wistfully, leaning forward towards you earnestly. “I really do just want you to have it. It’s not a test or a ruse, just… a token.”

“A token of what?” You snorted, spearing half of the ravioli that you’d just cut and bringing it up to your mouth.

“My affection?”

You choked momentarily on the pasta in your mouth, chewing and swallowing it as quickly as possible and taking a sip of your wine to wash it down. Jaemin still hadn’t touched his food, utensils undisturbed as he waited for you to collect yourself. When you searched his face for a smirk, a mischievous glint in his eyes, anything to indicate that he was being less than truthful, you found none. You were just met with deep open pools of black in his eyes, his mouth set in seriousness, and his hand once again holding the pouch back out to you.

“Your what?”

“I know you heard me.”

“Yes, and now I’m asking for clarification.”

“I find you fascinating, and not in the morbid kind of way like I described to you last night. I’ve found myself starting to become fond of you, and I wanted to show that to you with a… present.”

“What, like getting your puppy a new chew toy because they’re so darn cute?”

Jaemin chuckled, “Not quite. But still, will you please accept it, Y/N?”

You thought it over for another moment, chewing on the inside of your cheek. He was being sincere, you were sure of it. You’d caught brief glimpses of the kinder side to Jaemin just in the few times you’d met him: when he’d leant you his suit jacket walking home last night, telling you he was hoping you’d continue being in love with your job, the gentlemanly peck he’d left on your fingers the night you’d made your deal. And now, as he patiently awaited your answer.

“Alright,” you agreed, taking the small bag from him. “Thank you, Jaemin.”

“Thank you for letting me give it to you.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Pulling the bracelet back out of the pouch, you saw that it had a hinge mechanism on it that you couldn’t manage one-handed, and held it out to the god sitting in front of you, “Will you help me put it on?”

“Of course,” he took it, opening the band up with ease.

You held your right hand out towards him, and he brought the open bracelet up around your wrist. But you weren’t watching the way his deft fingers put it on around your wrist, the tips of them brushing over the sensitive skin at your pulse point, leaving coolness behind. You were watching his face as he focused on the task intently, his brows furrowing in concentration then relaxing after the bracelet had clicked shut. A small but tender smile took over his face, his eyes softening as he turned your hand over palm down, thumb running up your ring finger until it reached the silver band that resided there.

Your skin buzzed in the wake of his touch, an electric cold. You could hear your heart thudding in your ears and hoped that he didn’t have supernatural god hearing or something and could hear it too. If he did, he gave no indication of such. He withdrew his hands, leaving you more dazed than you should’ve been at the minimal contact you had. Jerking your hand back to your side of the table, you turned your gaze down at your food, trying to ignore how hot your cheeks were.

A light laugh came from Jaemin, but you couldn’t force your eyes back up to him, knowing that his were already on you.

That night you dreamt once more of the man cast in darkness, leading you to the tree of golden fruit. This time when he encouraged you to pick one, you grasped at the fruit with two hands, pulling it right off the branch with a firm tug.

Just about one month into your… arrangement with Jaemin, you were rooting through your fridge for something to make for dinner when there was suddenly a cool breeze on the back of your neck. Except you were indoors.

Spinning around, you were immediately met with the god extremely close to you, and let out an exasperated sigh, “God damn, Jaemin, are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“I can’t help it if I make your heart race,” he grinned, the mischievous glint in his eye making your heart pound in a different way that it had been.

“Yeah, because you jumpscared me,” you rolled your eyes, shutting the fridge doors to then lean back against the appliance. “Anyway, it’s not looking like I have anything to make for dinner. You okay with eating out tonight?”

“More than, I was actually hoping you’d let me take you somewhere tonight.”

“Where?”

“My place. You’ve been such a gracious host this whole time, it’s time I repay the favor.”

“Your place, as in... the Underworld?”

“Yeah, why not?” He shrugged nonchalantly, an enticing grin on his features. A grin that invited you to follow its owner to places you’d never been before. “I promise you’ll come back.”

“In one piece?”

“Of course.”

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t intrigued, that you hadn’t tried to picture what the Underworld looked like. All you could come up with was the standard image of hell: flames, pitchforks, eternal torture. But now you were getting an invitation to go there with Hades and come back alive.

“And I’ll be back in time to go to work in the morning?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

“Alright, sure,” you finally acquiesced. “I’d love to, thank you for inviting me.”

Jaemin offered his hand out to you then, and you placed your atop. He gave yours a light squeeze, “Just focus on me, Y/N. Just look in my eyes.”

“Okay?” You agreed despite your tone pitching it up into a question, unsure of why exactly he was asking you to do that.

Nevertheless, you settled your gaze on his eyes, even as he drew you in closer by the light grip on your hand. You gave him an awkward half-smile, unsure of what exactly to do as you just stared him directly in the eye. His dark eyes had a calming effect, however, as you felt your breathing even out and your heartbeat slow. This close to him, and being able to unabashedly look at him, you were entranced by the unearthly quality to his beauty. It should have been disquieting, this spectral vision in front of you, but you just found yourself drawn even closer in body and mind.

Then suddenly everything around you was darker, as if someone had dimmed your kitchen lights. The air was cooler too, and you had the suspicion that you were no longer in your kitchen. But you were still looking at Jaemin, just like you said you would.

He was looking right back at you, unflinchingly, and a fond smile crossed his lips before he announced quietly, “We’re here. You can look.”

And you finally tore your eyes from him to take in your new surroundings. It was dark, just like you’d noted before, as if it were nighttime. The room you were in had black floors, black walls, and at the very tippy top of the black vaulted ceiling, a black wrought iron chandelier with flames glowing... blue? But you couldn’t focus on the flickering up above you as Jaemin’s fingers entwined with yours and he gently tugged you towards the other side of the room.

“Come on, this way.”

It looked like you were maybe in an entrance hall of some sort. It was then that you spotted a large black throne adorned with silver detailing and embellishments at the front of the room. Jaemin kept walking right past it, though, down an adjoining hallway.

Your wide eyes that had been taking everything in turned downwards to your hand that was holding Jaemin’s. His skin was the usual coolness you had come to expect, and your fingertips brushed against the multitudes of rings on his fingers. Seeing the lone silver band on your hand, the one that he was holding, made your face hot for some reason.

You passed through another doorway into a dining room. It contained a large dining table crafted from dark walnut wood, the twelve high-back chairs around it made of the same. A deep red table runner went across the length of the tabletop, matching the upholstery of the chairs. A feast was already laid out, and place settings for two of the seats were prepared.

Jaemin let go of your hand to pull out a chair for you. You thanked him quietly as you sat down, eyes still scanning over the food options. He sat in the chair caddy-corner to yours, at the head of the table.

“Go ahead, Y/N,” Jaemin encouraged you as he reached forward to grab the bottle of wine that had been on the table as well.

“Everything looks... so good,” you said, not sure what to try first.

He uncorked the bottle, pouring the red wine into your glass first, then his. When he put the bottle down, you still hadn’t moved, too overwhelmed with all the delicious-looking choices.

“Do I need to make your plate for you?” He teased, already standing and grabbing your plate.

“This is good, you’ll probably like this one, oh you’re going to love this one, everyone likes that, mmm definitely not that,” he mumbled to himself as he loaded up your plate with food after food.

Your heart did flips as you looked up at him, the simple kindness of his actions making you feel warm despite the coolness of the Underworld.

Jaemin set your plate back down in front of you between your utensils, spoon on the far right, then the knife beside the plate, and the fork on the left. You waited for him to prepare his own plate of food, then finally be seated. When he’d finished scooting his chair up to table, he looked up from what he’d been doing, eyes catching yours, and a small, affectionate smile crossed his lips before he grabbed his wine glass. Then a wide, charismatic grin overtook his features as he held his glass out towards you, and you followed his lead, picking yours up to clink them together.

“To one month of… you and I. Thank you for agreeing to come here tonight, Y/N.”

‘You and I.’ His words both squeezed your chest and made it feel airy, like someone was inflating a balloon inside of it.

“Thank you for hosting tonight, Jaemin. And here’s to one month of…” you took a sharp inhale as you stumbled through your mind for any other word but couldn’t find one in that moment. “Us.”

You saw Jaemin’s pale lips softly, silently repeat the word before pulling into an alluring smirk.

And you each took a sip of the wine before digging into your food and kicking off the discussion. Over your month of dinners and nighttime socializing with Jaemin, you were used to your conversations meandering between the casual catching up of your workday to the serious contemplations of life and the universe. After all, if you were dining with a god, you were going to pick his brain for some philosophical inquiry. But on the days where some of the medical malpractice or domestic pro bono cases had hit you exceptionally hard and you wanted to leave well enough alone, Jaemin let you keep the topics light and surface level, keeping it at office gossip and the like.

Tonight though, with the special venue on your mind, you immediately delved into the existential, “So what are humans to you?”

“How do you mean?” Jaemin arched an eyebrow at your question.

“You’re a god. You’ve lived for thousands of years. You’ve seen millions of humans live and die. Surely, we all just kind of… blur together for you. Seem the same. Inconsequential.”

“No, not at all.”

“You’re just saying that because I’m here,” you teased before returning to your debate. “Most of us live and die without ever leaving a lasting impact on the world. Not that I think that’s necessary for having lived a meaningful or good life, I think that making even one person smile means that someone lived a good life. But in relation to you, a god, surely that makes us all indistinguishable from one another.”

“Is a play bad because it ends? Is a flower no longer beautiful because it will wilt? I think that humans and your lives are so intriguing because they’re finite.” He was as impassioned as ever when getting into your metaphysical dialogues— voice strong with resolve, leaning forward towards you earnestly, brow set just the slightest not with anger but determination, and hair falling into his onyx eyes that looked into yours without hesitation. “An incalculable but unquestionably limited amount of time, one chance, and each of you choose to live differently.”

“You still think that every human life is different from all the others?”

“Of course.” Apparently sensing that he hadn’t convinced you yet, Jaemin continued with an example, “Just look at you and your friend Jeno. Sure, the two of you converged pretty closely in college, but he made the choice to begin his career while you made the choice pursue higher education. Your two lives aren’t the same.”

“There’s also another major difference between the two of us.”

At the imploring tilt of his head, you deadpanned, “Only one of us made a deal with Hades for a third of our life.”

“An astute observation, Y/N,” Jaemin chuckled, relaxing back in his chair now that you’d changed up the tone of the conversation.

When both of your plates and glasses were empty, Jaemin took you by the hand once again to guide you from the dining room, as he apparently wanted to show you something. You emerged onto a patio of some sort, but that wasn’t what you were focused on. In front of you was a tree maybe ten or fifteen feet tall, an elegantly thin and sloping trunk, and along its many branches were round golden fruit the size of your palm. You couldn’t help the soft gasp that came from you as you took in the dazzling sight. Everything about the tree was normal from the texture of the brown bark to the dark green leaves, and even the dappling of the outer shell of the pomegranates that grew on it looked real, aside from the gilded color. It was magical, and you were happy just to know that something so beautiful existed.

“Thank you for showing me this, Jaemin,” you said, turning to look at the god who had stopped beside you.

You thought that he’d be looking at the scenery too, but his eyes were on you. He had a familiar look on his face, a small, tender smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, dark eyes holding a latent warmth like coals after a fire, and you felt tempted to get even closer to indulge in it.

But instead, you steeled your nerves to ask, “Why do you keep looking at me like that?”

Your tone wasn’t as accusatory as your words were, it was a sincerely curious question.

“Like what?” Jaemin was quick to reply with a question of his own, keeping his attitude light but genuine.

“You keep smiling at me with this soft little smile.”

“I keep doing it? When was I doing it before?”

“When we first got here, when you sat down at dinner tonight, and just now, when you brought me out here.” It had made your heart go haywire every time you noticed it, so you were able to list the instances from tonight off the top of your head. But that wasn’t all, there was a reason why it was imprinted into the back of your eyelids like a burned-out LCD screen, “It’s like… like… you want to kiss me.”

“I do,” Jaemin declared, eyes never leaving yours, voice never wavering, so damn sure of himself. Even as you were here in front of him feeling like you were nearly ready to rip your hair out from just a few little smiles from him.

He was always like this. So charming, so smooth, playfully talking around your questions. Pulling you along with him, dancing with you through your conversation. You had to meet him head on, even if it felt like you were going crazy doing so. You did it during your dinners, you could do it now too.

“Is that why you’re smiling at me like that?”

“Do you want me to? Kiss you?” He took a step towards you. For a brief moment he was all you could see, all dark hair, dark eyes, and silver earrings.

“I want to know why you look at me like that.” You stepped back from him, wrapped in the heady smell of his cologne. Cinnamon, bergamot, an earthy scent too maybe? Your head was swimming with it, but you needed to focus on the conversation at hand.

“And I want to know if you want me to kiss you or not.” Another step, once again narrowing the distance between you.

“I asked first, Jaemin,” you poked your pointer finger against his chest as a warning. “An answer for an answer.”

He stayed put, seeming to be fighting a delighted smirk from his face as he looked between your face and the finger you held up defensively between the two of you. Jaemin’s features relaxed as he clasped his hands together behind his back, looking into your eyes earnestly, “All of those times that I’ve been looking at you tonight, I was thinking to myself, ‘It feels like she’s come home.’ You just looked like you belonged here, in my home, with me. It felt like I belonged with you. And that made me want to kiss you. That’s why.”

Of all the answers you had been expecting, that hadn’t quite been one of them. Grand declarations of love were a faraway possibility, sure, you’d seen movies before. That’s not what this was, though. This was both more and less. You hadn’t anticipated for Hades’ answer to be so simple yet all-soul-encompassing as the idea of coming home. While everything tonight had definitely been new and unfamiliar to you, you hadn’t been intimidated or uncomfortable in any way. With Jaemin at your side, you’d been able to take it all in with wonder and an open mind, knowing that you had him right there watching over you.

“I believe you owe me an answer now too, Y/N.” Jaemin’s voice was quiet, low, meant only for you. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

Your gaze fell to the finger you had to his chest, your right hand. It had lost all the force you started with, limp and simply resting against him. You could see the silver ring there, and lower on your arm was the bracelet he’d given you, both pieces of jewelry glinting in the hazy light afforded in the Underworld. You briefly wondered if they had come from here, from deep under the Earth; if they’d come home tonight, too. The god in front of you remained silent, waiting for your response. If there was one thing Jaemin was good at, it was waiting— after he’d given you his final push.

Then you finally looked back up at his face, into the sunken obsidian black that greeted you there. That ever-stubborn lock of raven hair was hanging between his brows, and you had a sudden and smitten urge to fix it. But you had something more important to do in that moment. After all, he’d given you his answer, now you owed him yours. And you’d made up your mind.

Your mouth had barely started forming around your answer before it was captured by Jaemin’s in a kiss that was equal parts tender and ravishing. It felt like he was trying to devour your ‘yes’ right off your tongue and keep it all to himself. Admittedly, your head had started nodding before your vocal cords could work.

If you thought you were swimming in spices and citrus before, you were drowning in them now. Cinnamon, oranges, and… cedar. Your hand that had previously been poking at his chest was now crumpling the collar of his dress shirt, the other hooking a finger in one of the belt loops at the front of his slacks to yank him closer. His own hands were doing their part, too. One cupped your cheek while the other held you by your waist. The sweetest nectar was being dripped into your veins, and you hungrily took more and more with each wanton kiss from Jaemin.

When his lips finally parted from yours, you couldn’t help but steal just one more kiss. He let out a breathy chuckle as he clasped a hand over the one you were grasping at his shirt with to gently pull it off, his thumb then rubbing slow circles into your palm. His hand that had been on your cheek dipped to gently grip your chin, and as he looked at you, you knew exactly what he was thinking.

“I’m home,” you promised.

The shadowy man was back in your dreams that night, and this time the golden fruit was already in your two hands. He was encouraging you to break it open, feed on its juicy flesh that he promises will taste so good.

You woke up before you could follow through on the decision you’d already made.

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[narliearchive]

practically married (already us) by shadowquill17 [T]

Nick is in his first year of uni and out for a night with the lads, when one of them mentions that he and Charlie are practically married. Nick is not even surprised at how much he likes the idea.

[potaetopic]

You expressed firmly, "That's not going to change anything. We are not getting back together." You reiterated your stance, hoping he would come to accept it and eventually find a way to move forward.

WE. ARE NEVER EVER EVER. GETTING BACK TOGETHER. WEEEEEE— i just had to that, im sorry😭

The way Jimin said your name almost made you hide out of shame. "You can't retaliate. What happened to 'we are never getting back together'? Taylor Swift will be very disappointed in you."

AHAA! i knew it!!!!

In Jungkook's case, he was willing to risk his life and climb seven floors to reach you, showing the depth of his determination to make things right.

oh god, he's crazy. reminds me of seven jk at that high thingy (idk what its called, that for build and stuff)

"Fine, I'll go now. But I won't stop," he declared, stopping right in front of you. "I won't stop until you realize that you're the one that I want. I won't stop until I convince you that you're the one for me, and I love you more than anything in this world. I'm not giving up on you, on us, baby. I don't care how long it takes, I'll beg you every day if I have to, but I won't stop until you come back to me."

yep, that's it. the lines that make me rethink my life choices. its a hella toxic relationship, and jk is one hell of a walking red flag, but he just. had to deliver this line. and knock my beating heart again

exes trope always has a place in my heart. and this? thank u for bringing this out for the world to see. i love it v v much

Night After Night

Established relationship au

Pairing: Fuckboy bf! Jungkook x Reader

MINORS DNI

Genre: lovers to exes to exes to lovers, Mostly crack, fluff, and smut but a little bit of angst because I'm a bitch.

Words : 17.6k

Summary: "Show you what devotion is, deeper than the ocean is".... You broke up with your boyfriend because he couldn't let go of his fuckboy antiques now he's gonna win you back whatever it takes.

Warnings: Toxic relationships, Jungkook is the biggest red flag but we love him, SMUT [ ITS FILTHYYY, FINGERING, ORAL SEX (Both receiving), PENETRATIVE SEX ( Vaginal), UNPROTECTED SEX (Don't be stupid like Jungkook, please)].

A/n: This is unedited, no proof reading done.

*******

For the thousandth time this evening, you couldn't help but roll your eyes as you witnessed your boyfriend, once again, openly flirting with another girl in your presence. It wasn't as if he was unaware of your presence, and he wasn't doing it secretly behind your back either. He knew very well that you were right there, and the irony was that he was supposed to fetch you a drink when he stumbled upon a pair of boobs on the way.

'Baby, it will be fun,' he had said when he insisted on taking you to this party. Yet now, you found yourself sitting awkwardly on a filthy couch, uncomfortably witnessing two guys passionately making out while your so-called boyfriend indulged in flirting with the brunette, who had her hands all over his biceps. You could bet a million dollars that he was flexing them right now.

When you first met Jungkook in your college, he had the title of the biggest fuckboy of the campus and a snap score of 3 million, yes 3 million and if that's not the biggest red flag then what is? But despite the fuckboy behaviour he was a decent person. After trying (and succeeding) to get in your pants at the frat party you first met, he asked you out on a date. And of course you said yes. He gave you the full date experience, in fact it was one of the best dates you had in a while.

He took you to the movies and was respectful, keeping his hands to himself throughout the outing. During the date, he took care of you, ensuring you were well-fed and enjoyed yourself. Afterward, he even made the extra effort to drive you home in his own car, instead of that death ride he usually brings to college. He was so determined to show you that it wasn't just about sex that he didn't even insist on kissing you at your door, it was you who dragged him inside by his collar to fuck you senseless.

Jungkook surprised you, everyone else and himself when he asked you to be his girlfriend only after three dates. And he was really really sweet so you said yes. To show you how devoted he was to you and how he only had eyes for you he didn't even look at other girls let alone flirt with. But that only lasted for two months. Yes, once a fuckboy always a fuckboy. Although Jungkook remained faithful and never slept with anyone else or outright cheated on you, he still indulged in flirting and entertaining any other woman he found even remotely attractive.

Initially, you tried to dismiss it as harmless flirting, but as time went on, the situation became increasingly unbearable. The only thing preventing you from ending the relationship was the fact that he genuinely loved you. Jungkook proclaimed his love for you just three months into the relationship, whereas it took you more than six months to reciprocate those feelings.

You knew Jungkook loved you because he never failed to show you. God, the extremities that boy has gone to show you how much he loves you. One time he ran 12 miles to get to you because you sprained your ankle and was in the hospital and his car was stuck in traffic. Later he ended up fainting from exertion and you found yourself taking care of him instead. It was still really sweet gesture from him.

Once Jungkook managed to free himself from the other girl's company and arrived with a big smile and your favorite beer in hand, you promptly got up and headed towards the front door, leaving your boyfriend behind in confusion.

"Where are you going?" Jungkook asked, following you outside.

"Home." You were already ordering an uber.

"We are leaving already?"

"No, Jungkook. I am leaving already."

"But why? We were having fun."

"Again, no. You were having fun, I was just asked by two guys if I wanted to have a threesome."

"What guys?" Oh the hypocrisy.

"That's not the point JK," you finally snapped, turning to confront your boyfriend. "You're the one who dragged me to this pathetic party, and instead of being there with me, you spent 20 minutes flirting with some random chick."

"Baby, you know that was harmless."

"Again with that FUCKING EXCUSE."

"I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry, ok? You know I only have eyes for you. I don't even remember her name."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better? I'm leaving."

"Let me take you home, ok?"

"I already booked a ride."

"No, those things are dangerous at night. I'm not letting you leave in a cab," he insisted, without waiting for your reply he led you to the parking lot where his Harley was parked. Without any further protests, you let him firmly place your helmet on your head. Within just a month of dating, Jungkook had already arranged customised helmets for both of you as a couple. Though it might have seemed a bit tacky to some, it was his way of expressing a significant commitment, almost like a symbol of marriage in his eyes.

The ride was silent. Only him rubbing your thighs once in a while. You had time to think the whole ride. Contemplate every situation till now that has led up to this moment. Every time that he had flirted with other women and made you feel like shit, invisible. Every time he says 'oh but baby, at the end of the day I come back to you.' You have decided. You were done feeling like shit.

As the motorcycle came to a halt, you realized he had brought you to his place instead of your own. While you hadn't officially moved in together, it felt like you practically had, given the amount of time you spent there and the belongings you had at his place. The fact that he took you there didn't even surprise you; it was a place that felt like 'home' to both of you.

"Jungkook why'd you take me to your place. I said take me home."

"This is home, baby." He said helping you off his bike and taking off both of your helmets. "Let's just go upstairs and talk this out, then I'll make you cum and we'll go to sleep."

The short elevator ride to the upstairs apartment felt much longer, with neither of you uttering a word. As you entered and took off your jackets, you let out a sigh. The impending conversation was something you had been dreading, but you knew there was no other option; it had to be done. The atmosphere was heavy with tension as you prepared to address the issues that had been bothering you.

"Jungkook."

"Baby." He mocked your tone.

"Sit down." You pointed at the couch.

"Is this an intervention?" He asked with a grin.

"Just sit." He followed your order and stared at you with those big doe eyes that stopped you from breaking up with him until now. "I love this POV. Your tits look amazing."

"Jungkook, be serious."

"Why, do you keep calling me Jungkook. It's Koo and Baby for you."

Ignoring the comment you continued with your speech.

"Jungkook... I, I don't think this is working anymore." You said.

"What is not working? Baby, we're fine."

"No we're not. I've been waiting for you to grow out of this...fuckboy phase but it's been three years, Jungkook and you still haven't changed. It's even worse now."

"Come on, is this about Ally?"

"So you do remember her name."

"Does it matter? It was just some harmless flirting, I swear. I even told her I have a girlfriend."

"Oh, I'm so flattered," you retorted, the sarcasm evident in your voice, which seemed to annoy him slightly. Your frustration and displeasure were clear, as you couldn't overlook the impact of his behavior on your feelings.

"Look, what am I supposed to do? Stop talking to women? Is that what you want?"

"Oh my god, do you not see?" you exclaimed, your emotions pouring out. "You entertain them and flirt with them, and it makes me feel terrible, Jungkook. I'm your girlfriend, yet you don't even bother to introduce me to these women. And you call it harmless flirting? What about this?" You pulled out a piece of paper from his front pocket, confronting him with evidence of his actions.

"I had no idea she slipped it in my pocket."

"I saw you take it from her."

"But I was not going to call. I swear, baby. You know I would never. I only took that so-"

"So what? So she would wait around the whole night for you to call? That's even worse."

"Babe, look. I'm sorry. I'll do anything you want me to do. I made a mistake and I won't do it again, I promise. I swear on it."

"You don't have to. You can call her if you want to. We are done here," you declared firmly, your decision made. His eyes widened in response to your decisive words, realizing the gravity of the situation.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I'm breaking up with you, Jungkook. It's just not working for me anymore. I'm so tired of your behavior," you expressed with a heavy heart. He was now on his knees before you, tears welling up in his eyes but not yet streaming down his cheeks. Despite the pain, you knew that ending the relationship was the best decision for your well-being and emotional health.

"No no, baby, no. We are not breaking up."

"No. Jungkook we're done."

"No."

"What do you mean no? This is not how it works."

"I'll be better, ok? I promise. Please don't break up with me. I can't live without you. Please. I'll do anything you want. I'll prove it to you." The tears were falling down now. And as much as it hurt to watch him cry you were going to stand firm on your decision. "Let me make it up to you, baby. Please." When his shaking lips made contact with yours you couldn't push him away. One last time wouldn't hurt right? Maybe you'll give him this one last time. God knows he needed this. You needed this.

So you let him. Didn't stop him when he picked you up and took you to yo- his bedroom, Laid you down on his bed, undressed you. You didn't stop him when he kissed down your body, brought you to your high with his mouth. You let him love you one last time.

******

Breaking up with Jungkook had been difficult, and it's been a week since then. The impact of the breakup weighed heavily on you as well, despite your decision being the right one. You cared deeply for him, though maybe not to the same extreme extent as he did for you, it seemed his love for you bordered on being overly intense and possibly unhealthy.

The breakup had also left you feeling deeply saddened and missing him greatly. However, the impact on Jungkook was even more profound, and describing it as devastating would be an understatement. The next day, as you began getting ready to leave, you noticed Jungkook gazing at you with a lost and vulnerable expression, like a bewildered bunny. It was heartbreaking to witness, and you had to gently remind him that you had broken up with him the night before. The pain of the breakup was evident in his eyes, and it made the situation even more challenging for both of you.

"But, baby we had sex."

"Sex doesn't fix everything, Jungkook. I'm still breaking up with you. It was goodbye sex."

Jungkook was frantic when he realised you were serious about the breakup. Begged you to stay but you had already made up your mind.

Seeing the overwhelming number of missed calls and text messages from your ex-boyfriend, you let out a sigh. Despite the breakup, he was persistently trying to reach out to you, with all the messages saying almost the same thing. While you believed that blocking someone was immature and didn't want to stoop to that level, his relentless badgering was becoming too much to handle. If he continued this behavior, you might eventually have no choice but to block him on your contacts and social media platforms.

As your phone blared for the 58th time, your coworkers shot glares in your direction, clearly annoyed by the constant interruptions. Feeling apologetic, you flashed them a smile and finally picked up the phone.

"I swear to god, Jungkook. I will block you if you don't stop calling me."

"Baby-"

"No, Jungkook. No baby. We broke up remember?"

"You broke up with me, I never accepted it. You're still my baby."

"Jungkook I'm serious. Stop calling me. I will block you."

"You won't."

"Try me."

"Come outside?"

"What? Kook, I'm not home."

"I know. I'm outside your office. They won't let me in."

"Yes I told them not to. What are you doing here? Jungkook you have a job too, you know that right?"

"I know. But it's not important right now."

"Not important right now? That's your only source of income." You reminded him, resting your forehead on your hand.

"I don't care. What will I do with the money if you're not with me?"

"Pay your bills?"

"Come outside. I wanna see you."

"I can't. I already had my lunch break. Look, Jungkook, just go back home, ok? Don't do this to yourself. I'm hanging up. Don't call me again or I will block you." You ended the call without waiting for a reply, and the calls finally stopped, but the messages persisted. Deciding it was necessary for your peace of mind, you muted his contact to temporarily shield yourself from the continuous messages.

It was 4 hours later you were exiting the office building with your coworkers when one of them pointed something out.

"Is that Jungkook?" Sherry said and you turned your attention to where she was pointing, and to your surprise, there was Jungkook sitting on one of the benches just outside the building. He stood up with a hopeful smile and waved at you as you approached. His unexpected appearance caught you off guard, and you couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions at seeing him again after the breakup.

"You guys go. I'll talk to him."

As your coworkers questioned if you were okay, you gave a simple nod to reassure them. However, you couldn't hide the glare in your eyes as Jungkook approached you. The mix of emotions inside you was evident, but you tried your best to maintain composure in front of your colleagues.

"What are you still doing here, Kook?"

"Well you told me not to call you again and your guard wouldn't let me in so I had no other option."

"Yes you did. You had the option to go home."

"But I wanted to see you." Oh god it was frustrating. You are not even surprised that he's acting like a child. He has always been like this, nagging and pestering until you give him what he wants. You are actually more surprised by the fact that he waited a whole week before showing up at your workplace.

"So what you just wait here for 4 hours?"

"No .. 8 hours. I've been here since morning."

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?"

"No. Ask your guards. We are friends now." You closed your eyes to calm yourself.

You spoke with concern in your voice, realizing that Jungkook's actions were not healthy for him. "Jungkook, this is not healthy… Why are you doing this to yourself?" you asked, genuinely worried about the toll the breakup was taking on him. You understood that he was struggling with the situation, but his continuous attempts to contact you were not helping anybody.

"Baby, I'll do anything to prove to you that I want you back."

You expressed firmly, "That's not going to change anything. We are not getting back together." You reiterated your stance, hoping he would come to accept it and eventually find a way to move forward.

"You're saying that now."

"No. My answer is not going to change." He looked unconvinced. "At least tell me you ate something?" a small smile crept across your face as you heard his stomach loudly grumble in response to your question. You decided to set aside your differences momentarily and focus on making sure he was okay in the present moment.

"You still care about me?" Of course you still cared about him. You didn't break up with him because you don't love him anymore, you broke up because he was an asshole and you realised he was never going to change. And you have to keep reminding yourself that. He's never going to change.

"Where's your bike?"

"I didn't bring it. I don't like riding without you holding me."

"Did you bring your car at least?"

"I walked."

"You walked?"

"I figured that when you come back to me, we'd have to deal with the hassle of taking both of our cars back home and riding separately, which I didn't want to go through. So, I decided to walk instead."

"You're unbelievable." He just smiled at you as if it was a compliment. All you wanted was to go home, miss him to death and cry yourself to sleep while holding his old shirt. Was it too much to ask?

His stomach grumbled again. As if asking you to feed him. Jungkook knew he was not only torturing himself but you as well. Was this his strategy? Annoy you back in his arms?

"Fine. Let's go?"

"Are you taking me home?"

"No. I'm taking you to eat something."

"Then you're taking me home so I can fuck some sense into you and we can get past this?"

"You know what? I'm leaving. Die starving."

"No I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please feed me."

Despite your current feelings of frustration and hurt towards Jungkook, you chose to bring him to your home that night. It wasn't for any romantic reasons or to give in to his demands. Instead, you prepared a home-cooked meal for him, knowing that he likely hadn't been eating well, surviving on ramen, cereal, and a whole lot of alcohol. And you couldn't let him go to sleep hungry, so you set aside your emotions and cared for him, making sure he had a satisfying and enjoyable meal.

*******

"You know you can't take him back right? He's very toxic for you."

On that Sunday evening, you and your best friend, Jimin, had a movie night planned to lift your spirits. The hot topic of discussion was none other than Jeon Jungkook. Unlike the rest of your friends from college who always cheered for your relationship with Jungkook, Jimin was the only one who never rooted for you two. He had always expressed his concerns about Jungkook, labeling him as toxic, and reminding you that you deserved better. Back in college, you used to get upset with him, feeling he was always negative. Ironically, as time passed, you realized that Jimin was the only one who consistently stuck by your side, while your other friends became distant.

"I know I know. But you should have seen his face, Jimin. I felt like I kicked a puppy."

"So you just took him back to your place?"

"Only to feed him, I kicked him out after, I swear."

"Really?" Jimin asked, keenly observing the guilty expression on your face. He had an uncanny ability to detect when you were lying, almost like a human lie detector. You knew you couldn't hide anything from him, and in this moment, you couldn't escape his discerning gaze.

"Ok, fine, He did stay longer than I initially said," you admitted, knowing that Jimin could see through your attempt to hide the whole truth. His raised eyebrow made it clear that he was onto you. You confessed, knowing you couldn't keep anything from your perceptive friend. "We might have had sex on the kitchen counter... And the couch... And my bedroom. But I swear that's it. I'm not lying, I kicked him out and told him it was a mistake right after. Didn't even wait till morning."

The way Jimin said your name almost made you hide out of shame. "You can't retaliate. What happened to 'we are never getting back together'? Taylor Swift will be very disappointed in you."

"I know. I know, it was wrong. It was just a moment of weakness. I swear to god it won't happen again."

Feeling guilty and conflicted after Jungkook left, you realized he might have misunderstood, thinking there was still a chance but you were still determined to not give him another one. You knew you shouldn't have done what you did that night but God did it feel good. You knew for a fact that Jungkook had already ruined you sexually for any other men or your hands or even your vibrator. You tried doing it three times after breaking up with him but not once could you bring yourself to orgasm. You just gave up after the third time, just accepted the fact that you're not going to have an orgasm ever again. People live without having orgasms right?

That is why, when Jungkook stood so close to you last night, your body seemed to betray your intentions, and you found it hard to resist him. The lingering emotions and history between you both created a pull that was difficult to ignore.

As you cleaned up the kitchen after feeding Jungkook, you hoped he would leave soon. Knowing his tendencies, you knew he would try to sneak into your bed if you went to sleep while he was still there. So, you waited for the right moment to gather enough courage to kick him out. However, Jungkook had different plans in mind. Sneaking up behind you, he cornered you against the kitchen island, catching you by surprise. The close proximity left you heavy breathed and questioning your own decision.

In the heat of the moment, everything felt like a blur, and you couldn't recall who initiated the first move or who kissed whom first. It all happened so quickly. One second he was thanking you for the dinner, and the next, he was kissing you passionately, pulling you into the moment so deeply that you momentarily forgot about the complexities of your situation. You only remember how you were so desperate that neither of you even bothered undressing completely before he thrusted deep into you on that kitchen counter. You only remember cumming as he carried you to the couch and you rode him there. You only remember him slowly laying you down on your bed and making love to you.

"You're right, Jimin. I need to be stronger. I can't let him get to me like this. You know what? Next time, I'm not even going to look at his way if he shows up."

"Yes, that's the spirit. Ignore him like all those times he ignored you while flirting with that girl from the boba place." The expression of your face immediately turned sour after hearing his words. "I'm sorry. Too soon?" You only nodded in response.

"I can't believe I kept giving him chances after chances for so long. I should've listened to you in the first place; guys like Jungkook never change," you admitted, feeling regretful for not heeding Jimin's advice earlier. Reflecting on the past, you realized that you had been hopeful that Jungkook would change, but now you understood that some people's behaviors remain consistent despite the chances they are given.

"It's still not too late." As if on cue, there were a series of knocks on your front door, and you knew all too well who it was. The familiarity of Jungkook's knocking left you feeling a mix of emotions. Gosh, was it pathetic that you could tell Jungkook from the way he knocks? "Did you order something?" Jimin asked, raising an eyebrow as he noticed the look on your face.

"No. It's Jungkook."

"How do you know."

"I know." The knocks grew more impatient.

"Should we not open the door?"

"No. Let's ignore him." You said turning up the volume of your tv.

"Baby, did you change the locks? My key's not working." Instead of asking Jungkook to give back your keys you had settled for the less agonizing option and got your locks changed.

"Let's just pretend that we're not home," you suggested to your best friend. Hoping to avoid any confrontation, you both waited until the knocks finally stopped after what seemed like five minutes. Relieved, you thought your plan had worked, and you both resumed watching the movie. Unbeknownst to you, your ex-boyfriend had other plans and was determined to come inside some other way if you didn't let him in.

Jungkook had never been one to give up easily, whether it was in sports, academics, or winning back his girlfriend. He was determined to do whatever it took to have you back in his arms. Realizing his mistakes, he was now ready to redeem himself. Jungkook had heard about grand romantic gestures that people used to prove their love, and he was determined to do the same for you. Some people run through airports to stop the love of their life, while others write a hundred letters to confess their love. In Jungkook's case, he was willing to risk his life and climb seven floors to reach you, showing the depth of his determination to make things right.

Both you and Jimin were startled as the silence was broken by loud knocks on your bedroom window. The sudden sound startled both you and Jimin as you looked at each other thinking the other might have the answer.

"Is that-?" Jimin couldn't even finish his sentence before you swiftly got up and ran towards your bedroom. It was indeed Jungkook hanging outside your bedroom window.

"Oh my god, Jungkook, are you fucking kidding me?" You quickly opened the windows, concerned that he might fall and get seriously hurt. Jimin followed you to your bedroom and raised his eyebrows at the scene in front of him. You were screaming at Jungkook while he tried to explain himself, hanging from the window.

"This is what I've always been talking about," you continued in frustration, "You always act like a fucking child, doing ridiculous things to get your way. It's just ridiculous. You can't always get whatever you want by pulling stunts like this. You could seriously get injured, you seem to have no regard for yourself or anyone else. I'm so fuc-"

"Dude, what the hell are you doing?"

"None of your business. I want to talk to my girlfriend."

"Ex girlfriend."

"I said none of your business."

"Seriously, what the hell are you doing?" This time it was you asking, exasperated, as Jungkook continued to hang from the flimsy pipe outside your window. The precarious situation he put himself in only added to your frustration and concern.

"You weren't opening the door, what was I supposed to do?"

"NOT CLIMB UP THE FUCKING WALL LIKE A CREEP?"

"Can I please come in now? I don't think I can hold on to this pipe much longer." You and Jimin quickly helped the boy inside.

"Chim, can you please wait outside? I need to talk to him," you requested, and Jimin obliged, but not before warning Jungkook not to try anything or he would kick his ass. Jimin might have been smaller than your ex in size but damn that man can fight. With Jimin gone, you turned your attention back to Jungkook, ready to confront him about his reckless behavior and demand some answers.

"Care to explain yourself?"

"Baby, I miss you. So fucking much. You have no idea."

"This is insane. You have to know you're crossing a line, Jungkook. Not only are you acting like a fucking child, you're also putting your own life in danger."

"I know, I know I'm acting crazy. But how else do I show you how much you mean to me."

"Jungkook, if I meant to you that much you wouldn't make me feel like a shit in the first place."

"And I am sorry about that. I promise to be better, I wouldn't look at another woman ever again."

"Do you realize how many times we've had this conversation? It's too many, Jungkook," you expressed, "You always say the same things, but then you repeat the same mistakes all over again. I can't keep going back to you; it's just not healthy for either of us," you firmly stated, making it clear that you were determined to break this cycle and move on from the relationship.

"Baby, pl-" he walked closer to you only for you to back away.

"And you need to stop acting like this. You can't always act on impulse, you could've seriously hurt yourself."

"It's nothing. It's not that high anyway."

"It's seven floors."

"Actually, 8. I miscalculated, and well, you might wanna avoid Mrs. Katz for a while," Jungkook admitted with a hint of amusement in his voice. Despite the seriousness of the situation, you couldn't help but laugh a little at his confession. Oh how much he had missed your laugh, he has always told you that you have the most beautiful laugh he has ever heard and to go without hearing it for more than a week? It's just torture.

"You have to leave."

"At least let-"

"No. Jungkook please, I can't do this. Not right now. You have to go," you said running your hands through your hair. "I miss you too, I really do. You have to understand that this is hard for me as well. And you doing all these things is not making anything easier. So please, for me, just leave." A single drop of tear fell down your left eye, you didn't have it in you anymore to back away as he walked toward you.

"Fine, I'll go now. But I won't stop," he declared, stopping right in front of you. "I won't stop until you realize that you're the one that I want. I won't stop until I convince you that you're the one for me, and I love you more than anything in this world. I'm not giving up on you, on us, baby. I don't care how long it takes, I'll beg you every day if I have to, but I won't stop until you come back to me."

His words were sincere, and you could see the determination in his eyes. A part of you desperately wanted to give in, to feel his embrace again, but you were also afraid. Afraid of going through the same cycle, afraid of getting hurt again. The conflict between your heart and mind was tearing you apart as you stood there, facing the man you still loved, but uncertain of what to do next.

He leaned closer, and you instinctively closed your eyes, expecting a kiss, but instead, you felt a light brush of his lips against your forehead. His touch was gentle, his thumbs wiping away your tears, and his lips seemingly kissing the tension away. He stayed like that for a few seconds, leaving you with mixed emotions as he showered you with affection. And with that, he left, not sparing a glance at the man in your living room. As he walked away, you couldn't help but feel a whirlwind of emotions, torn between the love you still held for him and the need to protect yourself from potential heartache.

Like a good friend, Park Jimin didn't ask you any questions. He simply held you close, providing a comforting embrace as you sniffed against his chest all night.

*******

It's been almost a week since that conversation you had with Jungkook in your bedroom, and it's now apparent that you have a stalker. He's been following you around like a lost puppy for the better part of the week. At first, it was annoying, and you had frequent arguments with him about his behavior. But as the days passed, you've grown somewhat accustomed to his presence. Now, you mostly ignore him as he follows you around the city, giving him only the occasional side-eye before continuing with your daily routine.

Jungkook's constant presence has become both annoying and puzzling. You're not sure how he manages to track your every move or who leaked your information to him, but he seems to be everywhere. If you were riding the subway he was there sitting across you, if you were in a bar with your friends he was there scaring away all the guys that approached you, even when you were on office lunches he was sitting two tables away smiling at you. If it was anyone else it would have been creepy and you would hand them to the police but with Jungkook, sure it was annoying but also... Cute?

Sometimes he approaches you to say something or brings you flowers, while other times he simply waves at you from a distance or quietly observes you while you talk to your friends at a restaurant, much like he is doing now.

"Not to alarm you or anything but there's a really really hot but kinda creepy guy has been following us for 20 minutes now, I'm guessing more but I have only noticed him for 20," Mia was new in the city and in your office, she was also one of your only colleagues who has never seen Jungkook or didn't know who he was. Today you have taken Mia out for lunch and to show her around the city like she so politely asked you a few days ago.

"Don't look right now, but he's standing across the street, and he's looking right at you," Mia whispered, her tone laced with concern. "Should we lead him to the police station?"

Her words of concern brought a chuckle from you, which seemed to confuse Mia. The irony of the situation wasn't lost on you, as Jungkook's persistent presence had become a bizarre and somewhat amusing part of your daily life. While Mia saw him as a potential threat, you couldn't help but find his actions, however creepy they might be, somewhat endearing. You assured Mia that you could handle the situation and that there was no need to involve the police.

You turned around to see Jungkook holding a roughly wrapped bundle of sunflowers and waving at you as soon as your eyes met. Of course you didn't bother to wave back.

"Don't worry, he's... he's harmless."

"Do you know that guy?"

"Yeah... Well it wouldn't sound very good if I say it. He's my ex boyfriend."

"Oh my god. Is he stalking you? Shouldn't you report him or something?"

"Oh no, no. Like I said, Jungkook is very harmless. To others… Very harmful for himself, though," you added with a mix of concern and amusement as Jungkook clumsily ran to cross the street, narrowly avoiding getting hit by a car in the process.

As you and Mia continued walking, she looked back and forth between you and Jungkook, clearly unsure of how to react in this unusual situation. You could understand her confusion, as dealing with Jungkook's persistent presence was not something you had ever expected to be a part of your daily routine.

Jungkook finally spoke up when he got closer, saying, "I know you saw me."

"Then you must know that I'm ignoring you."

"You look gorgeous." The simple compliment caused a blush to creep up from your neck, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of warmth in response to Jungkook's words.

"I know."

"Babe, talk to me. Then I won't bother you the whole day. I promise." Jungkook's plea made you stop in your tracks, and even the girl beside you seemed surprised by your response, as you decided to give him a moment to talk.

"Fine. Talk," you said, crossing your arms over your chest, clearly signaling your skepticism but still willing to hear him out.

"Uhhh..." Jungkook hesitated, caught off guard by your willingness to listen. He struggled to find the right words, unsure of what to say beyond the usual apologies and expressions of missing you.

"These are for you." He said offering you the sunflowers. "You love them."

"You remember that?" It was surprising honestly, you weren't expecting Jungkook to remember some minute detail you mentioned in the passing.

What's more surprising is that Jungkook's eyes not once has drifted to the girl standing awkwardly beside you. To simply say that Mia was beautiful would be the understatement of the century. She was one of the most gorgeous women you've ever laid eyes on and had the body of a goddess. Honestly she made you doubt your sexuality for a second so the fact that Jungkook didn't even spare a glance at her was really surprising. Probably because he knows you'd be watching him like a hawk if he did but still, it's progress right?

"I do."

"By the way, this is Mia. My new colleague. Mia, this is Jungkook, my boyfrie...ex-boyfriend," you corrected yourself, catching Jungkook's reaction as his face seemed to brighten momentarily at your slip.

"I would say nice to meet you if you weren't being creepy and stalking us."

"He wasn't stalking us," you said, feeling a sudden urge to defend Jungkook, even though you were trying to keep your distance from him. "Stalking is a form of harassment, and I do not feel even slightly harassed by this man. He knows me and he wanted to talk to me, so he followed me here. You have no right to call him a stalker." Both Jungkook and Mia seemed taken aback by your strong defense of him.

"Oh I'm sorry. I didn't know-"

"It's okay. Actually, there's the restaurant. I already made a reservation under my name. You should go in; I'll catch up with you in a sec," you said and Mia gave you a polite smile before walking towards the restaurant. As she left, you turned back to Jungkook and noticed his gaze fixed on you. There was no ogling of her ass as she walked away. Progress, you thought to yourself.

"What are you smiling at?"

"I love you." He said giving you those lovestruck puppy eyes.

"Shut up."

"You really do look gorgeous today," Jungkook said, and you couldn't help but look down at your simple outfit—a plain beige shirt and brown work pants. He thinks you look gorgeous in this boring ass outfit? You didn't think there was anything special about it. "You really do," he insisted. "I'm not just saying it to kiss up to you."

"What do you wanted to talk about?" you asked, brushing off his compliment and getting back to the point.

"You left some stuff at the apartment. They seem important. If you want I can bring them back to your place... or you can come by. Anytime." Your heart did drop a little. He wants you to pick your stuff up from his apartment? What happened to I'll try as long as it takes? Sure you're planning on getting those back anyway but hearing him say that... hurts a little.

"I can come pick them up. If you're around tonight. I'll also bring your key, I still have it." Why did saying it felt so official?

"Yeah cool..."

*******

Oh god it was so not cool. Jungkook was freaking the fuck out. The reality was sinking in, and it was not cool at all. You were going to pick up your stuff, and it felt like the official end was approaching. Until now, it felt like a temporary fight, where he could apologize and you'd come back to him. But now, it felt like a real breakup, and it was hitting him hard.

"Why the fuck did I have to say that? WHY THE FUCK? I'm such a fucking tool. I could have said anything, literally anything and what did I say? Pick your stuff up from my apartment. Why the fuck didn't I just get hit by that damn car instead?"

"Kook, calm down."

"What the fuck you mean calm down? She's gonna be here in two hours or something and she's gonna take the last pieces of her from this apartment and my miserable life and then she's gonna move on while I'll probably die alone because I can't ever love anybody as much as I love her." By the end of his rant all three of his hyungs were looking at him with mouth hung open.

"Bro, you've got issues."

"You think?" Jungkook sarcastically asked as he paused his pacing around the living room for a moment. Namjoon, Yoongi, and Hoseok, Jungkook's best friends, were gathered around him in the living room as the youngest ranted to them for an hour. Jungkook had called them as soon as he got back to his apartment, seeking their help to salvage the remaining pieces of his love life. True to their friendship, they all showed up within an hour. However, so far, none of them had been even slightly helpful, and Jungkook was now two bottles of wine down.

"Here's an idea," Hoseok offered. "Don't open the door when she comes here, she's gonna think you invited her and forgot, hence she can't take her stuff." All three men looked at Hoseok.

"Yes, Kook. And punch her dog while you're at it." Namjoon scoffed.

"At least I'm giving some advice. You guys are useless."

"Yes, Hobi hyung. And I appreciate that. But she already has a key she's just gonna get in and take her stuff and leave."

Yoongi finally broke his silence, offering his perspective. "You know what, JK? If she can't already see the efforts, maybe she's not worth it. You already spent a week following her around like a puppy, and she doesn't have the decency to acknowledge your efforts?" His words held a hint of frustration, clearly disappointed in your lack of response to Jungkook's attempts to win you back.

"She has every right to be mad at me. I was a horrible boyfriend. A week is nothing, even if it takes a year I'm still gonna try to do everything I can. And what efforts? All I've done is stalk her around, probably even made her uncomfortable."

"I agree with Yoongi, Jungkook. Maybe it's a sign that you should consider moving on," Namjoon gently suggested, feeling sympathy for his young friend. He had never seen Jungkook so frustrated and heartbroken before; usually, he has always been the life of the party, bringing joy to everyone around him. Witnessing him like this was truly disheartening.

"No, you guys don't understand. I love her. You know why I was always carefree about the future? Because I always knew it was her, I don't care what I do or what I am as long as its with her. She's it for me and I want her by my side for my whole life. I want to be hers more than I want to be anything. I want children, I want a dog, I want a marriage, I want everything with her and if she's not in the future I don't know what I am anymore. I don't know who I am without her." Jungkook's monologue has left everyone speechless and in awe.

"Dude you wanna get married? I never pegged you to be the one to get married?"

"Not right away but in the future, yes. Only if it's to her tho. I don't want anyone else."

"Wow... Never thought Jeon Jungkook would have children in his future." Yoongi knew him the longest and all through his fuckboy phase so it was hardest to digest for Yoongi.

"Well not anymore. The mother of my children wants a divorce."

"Did you say all that to her?" asked Namjoon.

"What?"

"That little speech you just gave? Does she know all that?"

"No... I guess we never got to talk about all those things. I realised all this after the break up anyway."

"Then tell her. Tell her everything you just said, exactly how you said it."

It was easier said than done. You arrived with a knock on his door an hour after the boys left. An hour which Jungkook spent cleaning every surface of his apartment so you wouldn't notice how pathetic his life has gotten after you left.

Upon seeing you walk into his apartment, Jungkook's mouth went dry. He couldn't help but notice how effortlessly beautiful you looked, even in the simplest of outfits. He still has no idea how you manage to look so beautiful in the dullest outfits ever. Your dress modestly covered your legs, and your top had a conservative neckline, not even a hint of cleavage was seen yet you still managed to radiate a captivating charm.

You were also wearing little to no makeup. He did not want to be one of those boyfriends who bragged about their girlfriends looking pretty without makeup but if it was a compitition he'd win. If situations was different he would have made a joke about you going to the church but he stops himself.

"You want some wine?" Jungkook asked.

"Sure. Did you clean the place?"

"Uh...oh yeah. Just a little." He replied pouring wine in two glasses and brought them out to you. You had to mentally remind yourself that this wasn't a romantic date; you were just here to pick up your belongings. Being back in his apartment after such a long time stirred up mixed emotions, and you couldn't help but feel your heart racing.

You took a sip of the wine, only to find it tasted terrible, and you immediately spit it out, making a disgusted face.

"Oh my god, is this the wine we tried making at home?"

"Yes."

"It's awful," you said, both of you bursting into laughter. "Oh my god, why do you still have this? Throw it out, it's literally trash."

"Nah… I like it sometimes… it goes well with that cheese you tried making," he said with a playful grin, recalling a failed culinary experiment from your past. The two of you shared a knowing look, the memories of your shared moments flooding back.

"Noooo that's disgusting... I can't believe you still eat that." You continued laughing. Ok focus, you're not here to have fun.

"Only sometimes... when I miss you." He said and your laughs stopped. "Baby I-"

"So? Where is all my thing?" You ask, completely ignoring the nickname.

"I'm sorry I didn't pack anything." Because I don't want to let you go. "Some of your clothes are still in the laundry room. We can start there." You headed to the compact laundry room, which was conveniently connected to his bathroom. Jungkook trailed behind you in silence as you began sifting through the sizable laundry baskets, searching for your clothes among the various items.

The atmosphere was a mix of awkwardness and nostalgia. Memories of the times you spent together flooded your mind as you touched the familiar fabrics. You tried your best to focus on the task at hand and not get lost in emotions that might cloud your judgment.

"Koo, you mixed up the dirty and clean basket again," you said, using the old nickname almost instinctively. Jungkook's ears perked up, and he couldn't help but notice the fondness in your voice as you gently pointed out his little mistake.

"Did I?"

"Yeah. Blue one is for the dirty laundry, and the white one is for the washed clothes. You mixed them all up, and now you'll have to wash 'em again," you said, teasingly holding up a definitely used Calvin Klein underwear from the clean laundry basket. It felt oddly domestic, and a sense of nostalgia washed over you. Part of you wanted to spend a little more time just doing this with him, the way you used to when you were together.

"Did you try washing my clothes?" You asked picking up your white, well now pink t shirt with your hands.

"I wanted to do something nice."

"That's sweet of you, but there's a reason I told you not to do the laundries. I do the laundries and you do…" You paused, catching yourself before you continued talking as if you were still a couple. It was a slip, and you needed to remind yourself of the reality. You were here to pack your clothes and leave, not to discuss how to divide chores between couples.

"Well you're not here anymore. So I do the laundries and I do the dishes."

"Right... I'll seperate my clothes and then pack them." As you started sorting through the clothes, memories flooded back when your hands grabbed a certain grey t-shirt. Tears welled up in your eyes, that t-shirt held significant meaning in your relationship. It was the first time you stayed at Jungkook's place, and he had given you that t-shirt to wear. You loved it so fucking much that you still wore it often. It represented a sweet and intimate moment between the two of you. Despite the emotions it stirred, you simply placed the t-shirt in his pile of clothes.

"What are you doing? That's your t shirt." He picked it up to put it back in your pile.

"No, it's yours."

"Yes but I gave it to you because you love it."

"Well we're not a couple anymore so I'm giving it back. How are we supposed to move on if-"

"Why are you so fixated on that?"

"On what?"

"On moving on." This was the first time after the break up you were seeing a glimmer of anger in Jungkook's eyes as he walked around the counter to come to your side.

"Well we have to move on, don't we? We can't keep living in the past."

"It's not the past yet. I still love you and you still love me. And don't you fucking say that you don't. Because you do."

"Well it doesn't matter. Love is not enough to work a relationship, Jungkook. We are not compatible."

"And who decided that? You? You suddenly know everything about compatibility?"

"Can't you see? We are fucking fighting over a fucking t shirt."

"No it's not about a t-shirt, we are fighting over the fact that you're giving up on our 3 years relationship so easily like it meant nothing to you."

"Easily? Do you think any of this is easy for me, Jungkook? Do you think I just want to fucking break your heart because I just want to give up? Do you have any idea how much courage it took for me to fucking walk into this apartment just to walk out for your life?"

"Well you could have fooled me. It sure as hell look like you don't give a flying fuck about us right now?"

"I don't give a fuck? How dare you say that? I have given the most fucks about this relationship out of the two of us." Your voices raised in intensity as you found yourselves in close proximity, chests nearly touching, and only a few inches of space between your faces. Despite the heated argument, you couldn't help but notice how his chest was heaving from all the emotions, and how strikingly handsome he looked tonight.

Jungkook was so angry that he had no idea what he was saying anymore. He was just venting his frustration and shouting whatever came to mind in the heat of the moment. But your mind had drifted away from deciphering his words. Instead, you found yourself fixated on his lips, the way the little freckle moved up and down with his lips, and how his hands gestured frantically as he tried to make his point. The intensity of the moment seemed to fade away, and you were lost in the small details that had once been so familiar to you.

"You know what? You're such a hypocrite. You've nagged me all this time for not making efforts, and now you don't even acknowledge any of them. Do you have any idea how cruel you are-?" Unlike last time, this time you remember who made the first move. You took him by surprise, grabbing his gray hoodie to pull him closer. It was you who pulled him down and pressed his lips against your own. The kiss was intense, filled with a mixture of frustration, love, and longing. In that moment, all the pent-up emotions seemed to find release, and you found yourself melting into each other's embrace, at least for a brief moment.

Jungkook doesn't know what the hell took over you, but he sure as hell wasn't complaining. No. It only took him a mere second to acknowledge the situation, but once he did, his arms were already around your waist, pulling you closer than physically possible. The intensity of the moment, the rush of emotions, it all felt overwhelming and right at the same time. The world seemed to fade away as you both embraced, holding on tightly to each other as if afraid to let go. It was a moment of surrender, a moment of pure vulnerability, and for that moment, everything else ceased to exist.

The silent laundry room filled up with the sound of lips smacking each other. And both of you trying to breath between your kisses. Kissing Jungkook has always been a treat in itself, you have had your fair share of lovers before Jungkook but none of them had ever kissed you like he did. Kissing with them was always sort of a task that you would have to go through until both of your clothes were off but not with him. With him kissing itself was such an amazing experience, you could and you had spent hours just kissing those lips, that's how good of a kisser Jungkook was.

Jungkook didn't only kiss with his lips; he kissed with his whole body. His hands explored every inch of your skin that was available to him. One hand was tracing the curve of your hips while the other moved up your back, sending shivers down your spine. The gentle squeeze of his hand on your ass elicited soft moans from you, and you felt your body responding to his touch in all the ways it used to when you were together. The physical connection between you two was undeniable, and it was as if no time had passed since your last intimate encounter.

Without breaking your kisses for a second, Jungkook swiftly picked you up and placed you on the counter, not caring that the laundry baskets fell to the floor. The kisses became more desperate and fervent, his tongue demanding authority inside your mouth. It was as if all the pent-up emotions and desires from the past week were being unleashed in this passionate moment, and neither of you could resist the pull of each other's lips and bodies.

"Wait, wait," You pulled away, panting with droopy eyes from the intensity of the moment. Your small hands gently pushed against his chest when he tried to lean in again. "What are we doing?" you asked, seeking clarity amidst the intoxicating rush of emotions and desire.

"I think, I think we are making out."

"No I mean... I'm not here to do this. This is not right."

"Who cares?" Jungkook shrugged, capturing your lips in another kiss. One much shorter than the previous.

"I do."

"Do you want this?"

"I do...but-" you were cut off by his plump lips.

"Let's talk about it later then... I miss you."

"I miss you too," you whispered, giving in to the overwhelming emotions and desires that filled the air between you both. With those words, you granted Jungkook the permission he needed to take things further. In that moment, you embraced the vulnerability of being human, unable to resist the pull of his charm and the way his body ignited your own.

His hands eagerly roamed along your back, searching for the zipper that must be hidden somewhere on the dress. His touch sent shivers down your spine, and your breath hitched as you felt his fingers deftly find the zipper's pull. The anticipation of what was to come next filled the air, and time seemed to slow down as he slowly, teasingly, pulled the zipper down.

"How was the meeting with the reverend?" He finally made the joke he had been dying to say all evening, making you smack his chest slightly

"Shut up. I thought if I didn't look hot, I'd make it easy on you." you playfully responded, justifying your choice of the dark green dress that covered most of your body.

"Are you kidding me? You can never not look hot. You are feeding my sexy liberarian fantasies." Ignoring his comment you started unzipping his gray hoodie revealing the white wife beater underneath.

"Meals you can skip, gym you can't?" You commented admiring the muscles adorning his shoulders chest and biceps. You shivered when his hand suddenly reached under your dress to caress your bare thighs. Close to your core which you were sure was practically drenched now.

"Can I take this off?" All you could do was nod in response and he ripped your dress off of you in mere seconds. "Gosh, baby, you're so beautiful." Jungkook whispered looking at your mismatched pair of cotton underwear. "Look at you... dripping already. You got this wet just with my kisses?" You shook your head in agreement as he gaped at your clothed pussy. A very noticeable and big patch of wetness covering your panties right at the centre. "I missed playing with your pussy so much. Did it miss me too, Baby?" Once again all you could do was nod when his fingers slowly started tracing shape on your clit. "Words, sweetheart."

"Yes... it missed you. Please do something, Koo." The way you mewled out the words sent blood rushing towards his already hard cock. That was all the encouragement he needed to push your panties to the side. His face lit up at the sight of your dewy folds. Slick dripping between the slit.

"What do you want first?"

"Fingers. I want your fingers." Jungkook quickly moved to take off his rings but you stopped him. "Fuck me with them." Jungkook almost came at your words, you never told him before that you liked getting off with his rings.

"You like the cold metal?" You couldn't answer the question as he started playing with the bundle of nerves, pinching it occasionally. All your words turned into whimpers. "Look your pussy baby. Begging of my fingers." He smirked before slowly entering your folds with his middle fingers.

"Ah... baby." You shakily reach out with your hand to bring his face near your chest. He seemed to understand the assignment as he quickly started nibbling at the skin of your breast, pulling down the cups to release your nipples which were now hard like pebbles.

Jungkook had a way of eliciting reactions from you as if it were the first time every time, despite having experienced it countless times over the past three years. It amazed you how he could still have such an impact on you after all this time.

"I missed having your tits on my face." Jungkook murmured before quickly taking one in his mouth. You moaned out incoherent words when his ring finger joined his middle finger inside your cunt. Thumb rubbing slow circles on your clit. Your hands found solace in Jungkook's hair as he continued leaving kisses all across your chest.

You let out a tiny whimper in protest when his fingers pulled out from you. He brought them up to his lips and gave them a suck, eyes looking deeply in your half closed once.

"Shhh don't worry, baby. I just want more access." You understood what he meant when he pulled you up easily with one hand to take off your panties and throwing it somewhere in the laundry room. "You know, you taste just as sweet as day one." He picked up some of your slick on his fingers and brought them closer to your lips. "Taste baby, taste how devine you are." You took his fingers in your mouth and sucked them clean. Jungkook's cock was now as hard as a rock. He quickly took one of your hands and guided them to his clothed boner in order to get some relief. Like muscle memory your your hands quickly started working on his crotch. Squeezing it just the right amount.

"Wanna suck your cock." You quickly said.

"Later. Let me have this cunt for now." He quickly bent down on his knees to swipe his tongue up your slit pulling out a sudden loud moan from you. "Yes baby. Keep screaming." He said before leaning forward and getting to work, lapping at your juices like a dog dying from thirst.

His two long fingers went back inside your seeping hole as his tongue started flicking your clit. His free hand grabbed your thigh and put it on his shoulder. You were halfway hanging from the counter and practically sitting on Jungkook's face. Jungkook on the other hand was in his heaven right now. Imagine two of the most favourite things to mankind, ass and pussy and then imagine being buried in them, Jungkook thought if he died right now right here, it would be the best death.

Your hips started moving in circular motion as you ground your pussy against his face. Hands tugging at his raven locks. His nose occasionally bumped against your clit. You looked down at the scene in front of you, Jungkook's eyes looking up at you and his mouth ate away at your pussy. The look of his face trapped between your thighs was so filthy that you almost came from it only.

His tongue had now replaced your fingers in poking and prodding inside your walls. His hand came around your hips to rub at your clit.

Jungkook loved eating your pussy and it showed. The way his eyes closed in pleasure only by bringing you close to your orgasm. He was a very selfless lover, he found pleasure in pleasing you and he could spend days licking your juices and playing with your pussy. Right now his goal was to make you cum, if you squirt then it would be a bonus.

"I'm close, Koo. Lick my clit please." And like the always obedient lover, he did. Fingers parting your pussy lips and tongue getting back to licking the bundle of nerves, lips wrapping around it to give it a suck now and then. The sounds you were making were pornographic to say the least. You were sure you sounded like one of those girls making high pitched noises in the porn videos but you couldn't help it. Jungkook made you behave like a whore and you loved it. You loved screaming his name and you loved making these obscene sounds, and Jungkook loved it even more.

"Koo, I'm cumming." You cried out. He started licking even faster at your words, helping you reach the high faster. His heart jumped with joy when he saw the juices coming out of you. He did it, he made you squirt. Your legs quivered around him as you came down from his high. He didn't stop there. He licked you until you were clean and drank every single droplet of your arousal. You were shaking from the orgasm and the oversensitivity you felt in your pussy.

With one last kiss to the hood of your clit Jungkook came up and you immediately pulled him in for a kiss. You were determined to pleasure him like he did you. Shaking hands fidgeting with his clothes as you tugged at his lip ring with your teeth.

"Slow down baby." He helped you take of his wife beater.

"Can't. Want your cock." You were once again drunk on arousal. Your hands worked as quick as they could after that earth shattering orgasm to pull out his cock from his sweatpants. Mouth watering at the sight once it finally did.

Jungkook had the most beautiful and delicious cock you have ever seen. It was long and thick with just the perfect mushroom tip, which was now swollen and red and leaking from precum. The veins in his cock were imitating the veins on his arms, ready to pop any minute. Your thumb already started doing its job by spreading the precum all over his tip.

The groan he let out as your hand played with his cock was very loud. Almost as if giving you a warning.

"Is baby a cockslut?" He asked, reaching out to trace your lips with his tumba. The same thumb that was rubbing your clit only a minute ago.

"Only for you."

"Yes. Only mine."

"Wanna suck your cock." You pleaded once again.

"Go ahead, babygirl. Do whatever you want." You took that as permission to sink down on your knees and come face to face with his throbbing penis which was begging for your attention. Your hands stroked him slowly up and down and tongue came out to tease the top. "Don't tease, baby." You giggles once he used his heavy tip slap you slightly.

You looked up at him, making the most innocent face as you collected some spit in your mouth and then spit on his cock to lather it up with some slick. You slowly took the warm tip in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it like a lollipop.

"Just like that, babe." Jungkook sighed out and his words arrange you to take him in inch by inch until he was in your throat. One of your hands came up to play with his balls. His moans were now louder working as your inspiration to please him more. You loved the way he said your name. Moaned your name like you were some goddess that he was praying to.

Your head started bobbing up and down as you took him in and out of your mouth. Tongue continuously playing with the warm slit on tip of his cock.

"Fuck my mouth." You said once you took him out completely.

"You sure?" You only responded with a nod and that was all the answer that he needed to grab the back of your head and start thrusting in your mouth. You angled your teeth in a way you knew he loved. In a way that they grazed his shaft enough to feel but not enough to hurt. His tip was bumping at the back of your throat as one of your hand kept playing with his balls.

He pulled out of your mouth too soon to your liking and you gave him a questioning look.

"I'll cum if we kept going. I wanna cum in your pussy." Jungkook did not take one more second to pull you up and bend you against the counter. Fingers once again playing with your entrence to make sure you were wet enough to enter. "Look at you. You are wet again already, baby. Such a fucking whore." Although his words might have offended you naturally but right now they just added to your arousal. "My little whore wants to get fucked?" His hands digging in the flesh of your ass, slapping it to make it jiggle.

"Yes, Kookie. Please, fuck me." You begged, splayed out on your front on the cold counter. His cock was running along your pussy, poking in your slit but not really entering. "Stop teasing me you, asshole." You screamed earning a chuckle from the man behind you.

"This is what you get for being so mean to me." The loud smack that came at the flesh of your ass was very unexpected. "Tell me you forgive me and I'll fuck you." He bargained.

"No." Another smack making you yelp out from pleasure and pain. Your cunt once again was dripping from your arousal and this asshole was doing absolutely nothing about it. Wasn't he turned on too?

"Say or I won't fuck you."

"You're an asshole"

"That's not the answer."

"Fine. I forgive you. Just fuck me, please." Jungkook laughed at the way you begged.

"See. It wasn't that hard." He finally sink into you. A synchronised moan escaped the both of you once he was completely inside. "So warm and tight, baby. The best pussy ever."

"Jungkook, faster." You moaned and he obliged instantly. Your ass jiggling as he started snapping into you in a fast rhythm. His cock was hitting you in all the right places, he had found your g-spot instantly. One of his hands sneaked to the front to rub your clit as the other pulled you back and held you against his chest.

You hiked one of your legs up on the counter to get better angle and feel all of him in all the right places. Jungkook kept grunting in your ear, letting out words of encouragement, telling you how good you were holding up and how wonderful your pussy was.

Your breast bounced up and down as he pulled out of you and pushed in with equal force. His fingers kept rubbing and flicking your clit side to side and soon you were close to your climax.

"Jungkook I'm close."

"Hold it."

"Can't," you were cut off by your own moan at another hit against your g spot. "Can't hold it for long."

"Just for a little, baby. I'm close too." His hand turns your jaw sideways to capture your lips, drinking all of your moans. Just a few thrusts of his later he was almost there. "On the count of 3, ok baby?" You nodded against his lips.

"One." He slapped your clit, earning a loud moan from you.

"Two." His hand tucked and pinched at your nipples.

"Three." With one final thrust the both of you came down from your climax with a loud scream.

"Oh god I love you. I love you so much baby." Jungkook said as his seeds filled your pussy up to the brim.

*******

"What are you doing?" Jungkook looked at you confusingly as you pulled on your clothes 15 minutes after having sex with him. Although he did clean you up there was still some of his cum inside you right now.

"I can't go out naked."

"Why do you have to go out?"

"Because I don't live here? We are still broken up, Jungkook." Your words hit him like a ton of bricks.

"What? But we... we just had sex... you said you forgave me."

"Don't act like you never said anything to get whatever you want." You said looking for your panties. "Where the fuck are my panties?"

"What do you m- did you just say that to have sex with me?" He said as you looked for another pair of panties in the laundry basket. "I feel so used right now."

"Don't be dramatic."

"But baby... I thought we made up. Please don't leave now."

"Jungkook... You want to win me back? Do it without sex. The sex was amazing but I'm sorry it did not solve anything. I still feel the same and you still haven't gave me any assurance."

"So we're still broken up?"

"Yes. I'll pickup my things some other time. I'm leaving." He sighed knowing there was no point in arguing. You were nothing if not stubborn.

"At least let me drop you off. It's getting late."

"It's ok. I called Taehyung when you were in the bathroom. He's already outside probably." You said, checking the time in you wrist watch.

"Fucking Taehyung." Jungkook muttered under his breath.

"Bye, Jungkook. Don't torture yourself, please."

*******

"Oh the walk of shame." Taehyung teased you when you walked out of a certain apartment building to his awaiting car.

"Shut up, Tae. If I wanted to be judged, I'd have called Jimin." Taehyung was your other best friend, and although you hadn't known each other for long, he quickly warmed his way into your heart. Ironically, you met Taehyung through Jungkook; he was Namjoon's cousin. However, now he was closer to you and Jimin than he was to Jungkook. You first met Taehyung at a club where Jungkook had dragged you with his office friends. Despite hitting on you initially, he politely backed off when you declined, and you both ended up spending the rest of the night talking and bonding over feeling neglected by the people who dragged you to the club.

"He's going to have field day with this." Taehyung chuckled as he drove away from the building.

"That's why we're not telling him."

"Fine by me, if you think you can lie to him."

"Oh god. What did I do?"

"Look, babe. I don't know what to say, you clearly still love him and he's clearly still obsessed with you. You are only torturing yourself by trying to stay away from him."

"I just... It's not enough you know. I know he loves me, more than anything but if I get back with him who's to say a week later he just won't go back to his usual self? I'm just scared Taehyung, I just don't want to get hurt. I don't want to be one of those women in the future who just sits at home and waits for her husband while he's out their flirting with a waitress or something."

"I just hope you'd stop hurting. Nothing else." He gave you a sympathetic smile and held your hand for the whole drive.

*******

Life can be cruel, and it seemed like the universe wasn't on your side. You want something so much and when you'd finally have it, you don't want it anymore. You had wanted space from Jungkook and asked for it repeatedly, but now that he had given you that space for the past six days, you couldn't shake the feeling that something significant was missing from your life. It was as if a big piece of your heart was absent, and you found yourself longing for his presence once again.

Six days had passed since you left Jungkook's place in Taehyung's car, and during that time, he hadn't reached out to you even once. There were no phone calls, no text messages, and no unexpected appearances at random places. It felt strange and unfamiliar not having him actively pursuing you, and it only added to the confusion and uncertainty swirling in your mind.

Every time you made a turn or entered a cafe, a part of you half-expected Jungkook to be there, waving at you with that familiar, endearing smile on his face. But each time, you found yourself disappointed as there was no sign of him. The absence of his constant presence was both a relief and a pang of longing, leaving you torn between wanting to move on and wanting him to come back into your life.

Wasn't this what you wanted? For him to stop obsessing over you and move on with his life? However, now that he had seemingly taken a step back, you couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. A part of you wanted him to fight for you, to prove that he was willing to change and make things work. Another part of you longed for his familiar presence and the comfort that came with it.

"Did you hear any of the words I just said?" Mia asked you and you gave her a guilty smile.

"I'm sorry, I'm a little preoccupied today."

"Is this about Jungkook again?"

"I'm so sorry... I think this is a very bad idea. I really don't want to disrespect your friend." When Mia suggested the double date with her boyfriend and their friend a few days ago you were very skeptical about it. You didn't want to get into anything right now with the mess that your head was but after discussing it with Jimin and Taehyung, they convinced you that you should go, to take your mind off of things for a bit. Double dates are nothing serious, it was just a way to lighten up your mood. Although now you were regretting the whole ordeal. You shouldn't have come here. Not only was your mood very sour but it was also very evident on your face.

"Oh no. You wouldn't. Trust me. Actually the thing is Chris is going through a bad breakup as well and Jisung and I thought you could, you know help each other out or something."

"That's very sweet of you, Mia. But you sure I wouldn't ruin the whole thing?"

"Oh don't worry at all. And even if it does not go well nothing will be ruined between us. We'll laugh about it later." You gave her a grateful smile when she rubbed your hands.

A few seconds later, the bell of the restaurant rang, and two very attractive men walked in. As the woman beside you stood up, you realized that they were your dates. Mia quickly introduced you to her boyfriend Jisung and your date Chris. You were relieved that Chris wasn't at least horrible looking, and you hoped you could get through this one date.

"Wow, they did not mention how beautiful you are," Chris said as he shook your hand and took the seat in front of you. You couldn't help but wonder how many times he used this line, but then you reminded yourself that not every guy is a player. For all you know, Chris could be a very sweet guy who was genuinely complimenting you.

"Thank you, that's very kind of you," you replied with a polite smile. "You don't look so bad yourself."

As the conversation flowed, you found yourself getting more comfortable around Chris. He was easy to talk to, which helped lighten your mood. But despite being a genuinely sweet guy, you couldn't help but compare Chris to Jungkook. Whether it was the way he spoke, sat, or even called for the waiter, Chris lacked the same level of confidence that Jungkook possessed. Even on your first date, Jungkook had a way of making you feel like you had known him forever.

You observed that Chris couldn't hold a candle to Jungkook when it came to a sense of humor. While Jungkook was effortlessly funny, Chris tended to build up to a joke too much, and it often fell flat, leaving you with no choice but to give him pity laughs.

You had to consciously remind yourself to stop comparing this man to your ex boyfriend. Chris might not be as funny, or confident, or curious, or smart, or handsome, or cute, or witty, or energetic, or adventurous, or a good wine orderer as Jungkook but he was still a decent person. Perhaps, if you gave him a chance, things could potentially go well. It was essential to keep an open mind and not let your past experiences cloud your judgment.

The mention of your name from the man in front of you snapped you out of your train of thoughts. "So, tell me something about yourself," he said, and you suddenly realized that all three pairs of eyes were expectantly on you. Not knowing exactly what to say, you started talking about your work. With Jungkook, this was never an issue; conversation always flowed effortlessly, even in the early stages of your relationship.

"Oh… um well, I recently got promoted to a junior copywriter in our advertising company," you replied, giving him a small smile.

"No none of the boring work stuff. Tell me about yourself. What are your interests?" he asked, and you were slightly surprised by his directness. Didn't Mia mention he was going through a breakup as well? Must have been one happy breakup if he was still so cheerful.

"I... I like horror movies."

"Oh, I can't stand horror movies," Chris replied. Jungkook, on the other hand, loved horror movies. Every weekend, the two of you would go watch horror films or shows and then mock the scary scenes together. He adored seeing you jump at the jump scares and relished the opportunity to hold you close in his arms to "console" you.

"Then what kind of movies do you like?"

"I'm more into non-fiction and political cinema, and occasionally documentaries," he said. His response didn't exactly excite you, and you wondered if he was just trying to impress you or if his taste in movies was genuinely that dull. If it was the former he was doing a very bad job.

"Prude," Mia's boyfriend, Jisung, let out a cough, and it actually made you laugh, realizing it might be the first time you've genuinely laughed during this date. Normally, Jungkook would have already… No, no more thinking about Jungkook.

"I think it's adorable that Chris gets his jollies from 'our planet'." You laughed again, finding some amusement in the conversation. This date might end up being a little more bearable after all.

Finding an opening, you slipped into a conversation with Mia and Jisung instead of focusing solely on Chris. You couldn't help but awe at how adorable of a couple Mia and Jisung were. They recently celebrated their 1-year anniversary. Jisung was much younger but despite the age difference, they seemed so happy and in love. They reminded you so much of you and Jungkook. While Jungkook might not have been younger than you, he was definitely the more mischievous and playful one in the relationship, while you tended to be more responsible and level-headed.

"Do you happen to know the guy sitting behind you? Because he has been glaring at me like I just stole his kids and traded them for wool," Chris said, catching Mia's attention first. She turned around, and you followed suit, curious to see who was giving Chris such a fierce look.

To your surprise, it was none other than Jeon Jungkook sitting at the table behind you, and he wasn't alone. Yoongi, Hoseok, and Namjoon were with him. Your heart skipped a beat when your eyes met his, and a myriad of emotions surged through you, but one was the most overwhelming of them all. Guilt.

Regret washed over you as you realized the impact your decision to go on this date had on Jungkook. His hurt expression tugged at your heartstrings, and you couldn't help but feel guilty for putting yourself in this situation. It was clear that this double date was a mistake, and you were left grappling with your emotions and the consequences of your choices.

Feeling overwhelmed and needing a moment alone, you excused yourself from the table without waiting for any response from the others. You rushed through the restaurant, trying to find a washroom where you could collect your thoughts and emotions. The encounter with Jungkook had caught you off guard, and you couldn't help but wonder if he had intentionally come here like he did that past week or if it was just actually a coincidence.

"So we're dating other people now?" He sounded hurt when he stepped in behind you in the restroom.

"Kook, this is not what it looks like."

"I'm not mad. I'm just surprised."

"You're not?"

"Maybe a little."

"Where were you for the past six days?" You turned the question on him.

"So I disappear for a week and you start dating someone else. Thought it would take at least 30 days to move on from a 3 year relationship." His remark was bitter but you knew where he came from.

"Kook, it's not what it looks like," you said, stepping closer to him, feeling the need to explain yourself even though you knew you didn't owe him anything. After all, you were not together anymore, and it had been almost three weeks since the breakup.

"By the way I didn't disappear because I was giving up on us. I was just trying to give you some space. Our friends forced me to give you some space," He said "I wouldn't have if I knew..."

"Jungkook,"

"What's his name?"

"Don't do this to yourself."

"What does he do? I mean we can still be friends right? I know it-" you cut of his words by pressing your lips against his in a very soft kiss.

"Koo, you presence was not so insignificant in my life that I'd forget you in a week." Your words brought a hint of smile on his lips. He let out a sigh in relief.

"Oh thank God, I thought I lost you to that leprechaun."

"Hey," you scolded him. "I swear to god if you pick a fight with him on the way out, I'll whoop your ass."

"That would be so hot." There he was. Your precious Jungkook.

"But we're still not back together." The smile left his face as soon as it came. "Kook... I'm still not yours but... Make me. I'm willing to give you another chance but... You have to assure me that it will be worth it. Win me back and I'm yours."

"I will, baby. I'll show you how devoted I am." With one last kiss on your lips he left the restroom.

As Jungkook left the restroom with a newfound sense of hope and determination, you couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm. It was like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, and he was ready to face the challenge of winning you back with all his heart.

As you returned to the table, Mia and Chris looked at you curiously. "Is everything okay?" Mia asked with concern.

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "Yeah, everything's fine. Just had a little chat."

Chris raised an eyebrow playfully. "A little chat, huh? Well, I hope it was a good one."

You glanced back at the restroom door, feeling a mix of emotions inside you. "Yeah, it was," you replied, your heart a little lighter than before.

*******

And the cycle began anew on the following day. The affectionate text messages resumed, starting from the sweet 'good morning' greetings to heartfelt 'I love you's. You received a bouquet of a 100 sunflowers on your desk with a note that only read 'because roses are cliche'. He sent boba at your office because you hated coffee and he sent you sushi's from your favourite restaurant.

It was like a cycle. Once again he was following you around the city but this time you didn't roll your eyes at him, didn't cuss him out or ask him to leave you alone. You even heard from Jimin and Taehyung that Jungkook deleted his Snapchat and Instagram. Jimin was the most shocked one at the news. 'Oh my god is Jungkook actually trying to redeem himself?'

You laughed as Jungkook ran after your subway because he was a minute too late and couldn't get in as it left the station. But like the lovely ex-girlfriend you were you decided to get off on the next station to wait for him. And like you expected 10 minutes later a you saw Jungkook running down the stairs, eyes looking for you. Quickly running up to you when he found you.

"Did you run here?" He didn't answer you but only because he was too busy catching his breath.

"There are trains only two minutes apart."

"I...I know that" He said between catching his breath. "But that... would not... have been very romantic."

"And what if I didn't get off at this station."

"I would run to your office."

"You're crazy."

"Only for you."

One more week goes by with Jungkook showing you in every way how much you mean to him. You were finally starting to get the assurance and security that you have always craved for your relationship. You were finally starting to see the depths of Jungkook's devotion. The smile on your face now was just a constant. And there were only two reasons for it, Jungkook and thoughts of Jungkook.

"So, how's everything going with your crazy stalker ex?" One night Jimin playfully commented when you him and Taehyung were spending it at your place.

"Don't call him crazy."

"Fine. How's your completely sane stalker ex?" You only roll your eyes but soon started smiling widely. "Oh my god guys... He's the sweetest. I don't think I've seen him putting this much efforts in to anything like ever."

"Yeah, Namjoon says he's so whipped for you that it's disgusting." Taehyung's comment makes you blush. "So? When are you getting back together with him."

"I don't know. I mean I know. But, I don't know, should I initiate it? Should I wait for him to ask me again? Should I ask him to ask me again?"

"Don't think too much about it. If you wanna be with him, be with him." Taehyung being the ever level headed one said.

"I say make him work some more. That man had you going crazy for three years, the least jail time he deserves is three months." Jimin said sipping on his margarita.

"Don't listen to, Jimin. In fact call him right now."

"No, don't call him right now. This is our night. Don't be a simp."

"Did you guys bet against me and Jungkook?" You asked looking between both of your friends who looked like deers caught in a headlight. "Who else?"

"Just Jimin and I... and Namjoon and Yoongi and Hoseok." You gasped dramatically at your unbelievable friends.

"If either of you win, I want my cut."

The next day you were surprised to not see the usual series of morning texts that you get from Jungkook. There were no flowers outside your doorstep or your desk. Nobody sent you boba or lunch and you could say that you were having a very Jungkook less day today. The lack of your cute stalker ex has taken a toll on your mood and you found yourself becoming increasingly snappy and cranky with others, unable to shake off the disappointment and longing for his attention. This made you realise how much accustomed you have become to Jungkook.

You looked longingly at your phone but there was nothing, still no text, no calls. You could always be the mature one and call him to see what was the matter but a part of you hesitated, not wanting to appear too eager or like you were desperately missing him. After all, he had been the one pursuing you, and you didn't want to reverse those roles.

Soon it was time to get off from work, and with a series of goodbyes and good evenings you quickly left your office, You couldn't help but wonder if Jungkook would be waiting for you outside, just like he used to do. However, as you stepped out, there was no sign of him, and the reality sank in that he wasn't there. Still holding onto a glimmer of hope, you decided to wait for a little while, thinking he might show up a bit late. You stood there, keeping an eye out for any sign of him, and time seemed to slow down. Every passing minute felt like an eternity, and you were torn between staying and leaving.

Soon the guard to the building adviced you to leave saying that their was a big storm on the way. You quickly looked up the weather forecast to realise that he was right indeed. You looked up at the sky to see the angry black clouds had started to gather around.

Searching for his contact you finally decided to give him a call. You were seriously getting worried about Jungkook now. As the call went straight to voicemail, your worry for Jungkook intensified.

Deciding it was the only choice, you headed towards Jungkook's place instead of your own, opting for a cab over the subway to reach him quickly.

Your excitement soared when your phone finally rang after a long day of silence. But, it quickly turned to disappointment as you noticed an unknown number instead of the one you had been eagerly waiting for. Despite the uncertainty, you chose to answer the call, just in case it was something important.

The voice asking for you on the other side was definitely unknown.

"Yes this is she." You replied.

"I'm speaking from Hope Memorial Hospital. You are listed as an emergency contact for a Jeon Jungkook. He has been involved in a motorcycle crash, and it's a very serious accident. We urgently need a guardian. Are you able to assist, or could you direct us to someone else?" The voice on the other end was serious and panicked, but you found it hard to accept the gravity of the situation. Your heart pounded in your chest, and tears streamed down your face, hoping that it wasn't as critical as it sounded.

"No, it's okay. I'll be there in... 10 minutes," you replied, your voice shaky but determined. You swiftly instructed the cab driver to change the route, urging him to go faster as you anxiously bit your nails in anticipation.

During the ride, you tried to stay strong and reassure yourself that it might not be as critical as you feared. Your mind couldn't help but drift to the worst-case scenario. What if he was already... No, no, no, you couldn't bear to think that way. You pushed those thoughts aside, trying to stay positive and hopeful as you rushed towards the hospital.

The driver observed you with sympathy as you quietly wept in the back seat. Regret filled your heart as you realized you should have called him. You blamed yourself, thinking that it was all your fault, and if anything happened to him, it would be on you.

As the car came to a stop, you hastily tossed all the remaining cash at the driver and rushed inside the hospital. Your must have looked frantic as you ran around, sobbing and calling out Jungkook's name. Thankfully, a compassionate nurse came to your aid and calmly checked the hospital charts for the name you managed to utter amidst your sobs.

"Come with me, dear. He's in the ER," you swiftly followed the nurse to a bustling room. As the nurse drew back the curtain, you braced yourself for the worst—expecting to see Jungkook badly injured, bleeding, or worse. However, what you did not anticipate was finding Jungkook sitting there, looking.... perfectly fine?

You stared at the man sitting there, feeling a mix of confusion and relief. He was laughing at something the blond girl standing beside him had said. It was unexpected, given the seriousness of the call you received earlier. You couldn't help but wonder if there had been a mistake or if he had recovered miraculously.

"Baby, you came." His eyes lit up as soon as he saw you, there was not even a single scratch on Jeon Jungkook, maybe beside the scratched leather jacket. Now not to get you wrong, you were very happy that he was okay. You were just very confused. What was happening? You had stopped sobbing breathlessly but the tears were still flowing.

"I don't understand... Somebody called, they said... That something happened and it was serious." You tried explaining.

"I did get into a crash but it was nothing. They thought it was internal bleeding but that wasn't the case either. That's why I was here all afternoon, doing tests an all. But now I'm fine."

"Then why did they say that?"

"It was just a prank. I'm sorry it was Sua's Idea." He said pointing at the blond girl standing there. Your blood was boiling so fucking much that you didn't even care asking who this bitch even was let alone what she was doing with your boyfriend.

"A prank? You think this is funny?" Jungkook finally grasped the seriousness of the situation when he saw the mortified look on your face, realizing the impact of the prank. Your makeup was ruined from all the crying, and you looked exhausted.

"Baby, calm down it was just a joke." His hands came forward but you slapped it away.

"Do not Fucking touch me." You glared at him. "Do you seriously think that was funny? I almost had a heart attack, Jungkook. Do you know how fucking scared I was?" Jungkook didn't like when your voice did that. He could handle you yelling, screaming, and even calling him names, but seeing you speak with that dead serious look on your face was something he couldn't bear. It made him feel like he wanted to disappear. Jungkook wanted to jump off a cliff.

"You know what? I can't believe I even thought about giving you another chance. We are seriously done this time." You didn't even look back as you walked away as Jungkook struggled to get that IV out of his hand and run after you.

"Baby, stop I'm sorry. It was Sua's Idea, I swear."

The thunderstorm had finally hit your city with full blast. It was raining cats and dogs. In the midst of it all, everyone ran to sought shelter. However, that didn't stop you from sprinting out of the hospital. The storm didn't concern you; what mattered most was that you couldn't even bare the thought of being near Jeon Jungkook at that moment.

As you dwelled on everything that had happened, your anger intensified. You felt a surge of anger directed at Jungkook, the thunderstorm, and that stupid blond woman who played the prank. But, the strongest force of anger was aimed at yourself, for even thinking that he can take anything seriously. Why did you even bother believing he could change? He was and will always be a man-child.

"Babe, it's really dangerous outside."

"THEN STOP FOLLOWING ME."

"I'm not leaving you alone," he insisted, stepping out into the heavy rain to follow you. As you walked, you had no clear destination or plan in mind. All you knew was that you were so angry with Jeon Jungkook that you couldn't bear to look at his face.

After just a few minutes of walking in the worst thunderstorm you've experienced in years, you came to the realization that this was a reckless idea. Your emotions had driven you to act impulsively, and now you saw the potential danger not only for yourself but for the idiot following you as well. While you knew Jungkook seemed to have little to no regard for his own life and safety, you cared about him.

Recognizing the need to be level-headed and responsible, you decided to find shelter, a place where both of you could wait out the thunderstorm safely. You understood that even in moments of anger, you needed to prioritize the safety of both of you. You began searching for a suitable place where you could find refuge from the harsh weather.

Ignoring the constant pleas from the man behind to listen to him, you led him to a nearby subway station. The station provided shelter from the heavy rain and the strong winds that accompanied the thunderstorm. Inside, the noise of the rain was muffled, creating a more peaceful atmosphere.

"Babe, I'm so sorry, please talk to me," seeing your silence he continued "I messed up, and I'm really sorry. I should have never gone along with that prank."

"Yes you shouldn't have." you snapped making him jump a little. Taking a deep breath to calm your anger and clear your thoughts, you finally addressed the question that had been gnawing at you. "Who was that woman anyway?"

"Just some girl, she was in the bed beside mine and we got to talking but I swear to god, I did not flirt with her once. When I told her about you she came up with the prank and I should not have gone along with it. I'm sorry."

"I just feel that you can't take anything seriously. It's like everything is a joke to you. How do I know that you'll take me seriously? That you'll take this relationship seriously?"

"No... I know I've been a little childish," watching you raise an eyebrow he corrected himself "A lot childish. But I swear, babe. This is the most serious thing in my life. I've made many mistakes in the past but I swear I'll start redeeming everything. I'll prove how serious I am about us. You are everything for me, baby. Everything. You're it for me. I want to spend my whole life with you, __." The way he said your name sent shivers down your body. The way he looked at your eyes eased your mind a little. "I want to have a future with you. I want to marry you, I want to have a home with you, I want to grow old with you, that's how serious I am. I love you more than anything in this entire world and I'll prove it to you." You only realised that you were crying when he wiped a year from your eyes.

"You mean it?"

"Every word."

"Fine then. Let's go." You held out your and he quickly grabbed it. When you dragged him out of the subway station you realised that the storm had stopped. The universe was on your side for once.

Jungkook did not utter another word the whole way that you led him to your house. The silence was thick when you closed the door behind you. He still didn't know what it meant for you both, your silence did not give him any answer and he was scared to ask.

"I swear to god, Jeon Jungkook" You finally began after the painful silence and his heart skipped a beat in anticipation. "If I see you entertaining another women ever again, I'm walking out of your life. And this time it would be for good. I will not come back no matter how much you beg me to." It took him a couple seconds to take in your words.

"Does that mean-"

"Yes. I'm giving you another chance. But you mess it up and I'm dumping your ass." The next thing you know Jungkook is showering your whole face in kisses and he finally let go of the tears. Crying happily as he held you close.

"Thank you, baby. Thank you so much. I will not disappoint you, I promise."

"I hope so too." The both of you stood in the middle of your living room, soaking into each other's warmth.

"Now let me fuck you right." He said, making you yelp as he picked you up all of a sudden and rushed toward your bedroom. Your kisses soon turned heated and desperate. Both of you panting as he started taking off your wet clothes.

You were wet in more ways than one. His kisses traveled down your face along with each piece of garment he removed from you. Lips not sparing a single inch of skin as he spent the whole night showing you how much he loves you.

The next morning your wakeup call was none other than Jungkook's tongue swiping away at your center. You woke up with a gasp when the sun was yet to come out. You glanced down to find the mop of raven hair between your thighs.

"Oh god, koo yes." You moaned out loud when his plump lips wrapped around your clit and started sucking. His hands pushing down on your hips, keeping them from arching up on the bed.

His tongue swiped up from your opening as your juices trickled down to your posterior hole. It was too early for your head to comprehend whatever was happening. Your finger started tugging on his curls when he pulled you close to your orgasm. Agressively lapping at your pussy. The pleasure you felt was tremendous. Too much to handle.

Jungkook ate you out like he had rent to pay and this was his job. His tongue playing with you as you came down from your high screaming his name louder than ever. After pulling two more orgasms from you in the next 15 minutes Jungkook was finally satisfied and he kissed up his way to your lips.

"Jungkook, we had sex like, 7 times last night. It wasn't enough?" You giggled when you felt his hard boner pressing against your ass.

"It's never enough with you. Seven times is nothing, baby," he said as he slowly entered you, pulling out a moan from your lips. "I wanna fuck you seven days a week." He added between his lazy thrusts. "Every hour." He lands a gentle kiss on your lips. "Every minute." Fingers intertwining with your own. "Every second."

********

[avisteliterature]

Consideration

SilverAsh (Arknights) x Reader

RATING: General

GENRES: Fluff

WORD COUNT: 193

SUMMARY: SilverAsh finds you asleep at your desk.

SilverAsh knocked on the door and was confused when he received no response. When he had asked around, the other Operators told him that you would be in the office, finishing up some paperwork. SilverAsh knocked again, but was met with silence once more. He decided to open the door and peer inside. His eyes instantly landed on the figure lying on the desk.

Closing the door behind him, SilverAsh approached you, who had fallen asleep at the desk, your pen still loosely held in hand. The man could only assume that you had planned to simply close your eyes for a little while, only to end up taking a much needed but unintended nap. This wouldn't be the first time this happened, in truth.

SilverAsh stared at your slumbering face, and unable to hold himself back, he reached out and gently brushed aside your hair. You didn't stir, meaning you must have been in a much deeper sleep than he anticipated. Not wanting to disturb your rest, SilverAsh decided against waking you up. Whatever business he had with you could wait, and he would much rather give her this moment of respite.

[starlightkun]

❧ word count: 20.1k

❧ warnings: cursing, mentions of death/dead people but as a moral quandary, definitely more legal jargon than there should be i am so sorry (if it doesn’t make sense then it wasn’t important), oh there’s a short scene with a weirdly graphic depiction of eating fruit sorry if that gives you the ick, it gets very existential and kind of angsty at some points in this one in terms of morality around death and reader’s job

❧ genre: fluff, no literally so fluffy it probably should have been in the warnings actually, established relationship, greek gods/goddesses au, hades jaemin, human reader, nades au, paralegal reader, bit of a ham-fisted persephone allegory, inspired by the gods/goddesses assigned to the work it unit in 2020 for this video, appearances by aphrodite johnny, bestie jeno, coworkers kun and sicheng, and galactic-threat level menace yangyang

❧ extra info: this is the sequel to obsidian black, it cannot be read as a standalone!!!

❧ spotify playlist

⤷ series masterlist

Your fingers were still caressing his cheek, softly, he was still holding you with a hand on your back, and he was beholding you with a yearning that made your heart lurch against your ribcage; and you knew in that moment if you asked him for his own heart he would have reached his hand into his chest and given it to you, the organ still beating and dripping crimson.

“Hi, honey, how was work?”

Jaemin was already in your apartment when you got home that night, sitting in his favorite spot in your armchair, book in hand. As you walked around in front of him, you saw that this time his pick was Dracula by Bram Stoker.

“It was alright, lots of revising briefs,” you stretched your neck out. “And what exactly do you do all day while I’m at work anyway?”

“I do own a business, you know.”

“The Underworld is an LLP?” You joked as you stretched your shoulders next.

“An LLC actually,” he quipped back as he flipped to the next page. “But I meant one on Earth.”

“Glad you’ve got something to keep you busy aside from dead people,” you twisted around to crack your back, letting out a groan when you heard a satisfying pop. “Dinner?”

“I know a place nearby.”

And just under forty-five minutes later you were sat beside Jaemin in a private booth at a nice restaurant, drink in hand and food on the table.

“By ‘know a place’ you meant you had surprise reservations,” you declared, affectionately bumping his knee with yours.

“Maybe so,” he grinned, resting an arm over the back of the booth. “Did it work?”

“Depends, what were you hoping it would do?”

“Oh you know, woo you, make you fall madly in love with me, the usual.”

“Hmm,” you pretended to scrutinize your surroundings. “I guess I’m feeling mildly wooed.”

Jaemin suddenly leaned in, and you watched him, breathless, eagerly awaiting his next move. You always enjoyed your back-and-forth, the seamless way you two went around each other, the mutual pushing and pulling. With him this close you reveled in the smell of cedar, cinnamon, and bergamot wafting around you, drawing you in even closer.

“Well then how…” his arm that had been resting on the back of the booth now wrapped around your shoulders, the fingers of that hand gently gracing over the shell of your ear “…about…” his cool fingertips brushed over the back of your neck, raising goosebumps in their wake to then caress over your other ear, “…now?”

Suppressing a giddy smile, you lifted your own hands to feel at your earlobes. You hadn’t been wearing any earrings when you got to the restaurant, but now you could feel jewelry there.

“And what are these?” You asked as you felt over the smooth gems dangling from your ears.

“Opal.”

Your enamored grin finally took over your face, “Okay, I’m officially wooed. The magically appearing earrings got me. Thank you, Jaemin.”

“Success,” he murmured before giving you a fond peck.

His hand stroked up and down your back as you leaned against him, enjoying the quiet that the private booth afforded you.

“You looked tired when you came home, Y/N,” Jaemin commented, and you could hear the hint of worry coloring his tone. “More tired than just proofing briefs.”

You sighed, reaching for your glass to take a sip of your drink, “It was the content of the briefs. I’m usually pretty ambivalent about the morality of the stuff we do at Kim & Moon. But the one that Ms. Haseul had written on this medical malpractice case…”

Your date didn’t speak as he let you find your words.

“The argument she constructed… it was the first time I genuinely just felt… gross about the work I was doing, and all I was doing was proof-reading the thing! I didn’t even write it! And I know Ms. Haseul doesn’t actually believe in what’s in that brief, it’s just a legal argument, it’s all putting together precedent and logic and interpreting the facts of the case. She doesn’t even think it’ll work; she just has a responsibility to try every avenue she can for her client. But… I don’t know. Someone died in this case, Jaemin.”

“They did?”

“Yeah, and I can’t say for sure whether it was because of anything our client did or didn’t do. But the crux of Ms. Haseul’s argument is that our client, as this patient’s medical provider, didn’t owe a duty of care to the patient because the provider wasn’t technically an employee of the hospital due to a bunch of legal stuff, even though our client directly treated them. She said our motion will definitely be denied at the hearing but… it’s scary.”

“Death?”

“Hm?” His question threw off your train of thought for a moment.

“Death is scary?”

“I meant that Ms. Haseul’s duty to her clients involves arguing that medical providers don’t have a duty of care to ensure that their patients don’t die. And that my job involves helping her do that. But yeah, I guess that involves a want to not die. I don’t think not wanting to die and being afraid of dying are the same thing, though.”

“Are you afraid of dying?”

“I… don’t know,” you frowned thoughtfully as you looked down into the mouth of your glass. “I think most people who are, are usually afraid because they don’t how they’ll die or because they don’t know what happens after they die. They’re afraid of the unknown. Which is a pretty good thing to be afraid of. But I’ve been to the Underworld with you, I’m dating Hades himself, for fuck’s sake. I’ve got a fairly good idea of what’ll happen to me after I die. And… I don’t know if I’m afraid of dying.”

“That’s fair. You know more about it than most humans do, but not enough about what your specific experience of dying will be like to make a determination.”

“Really though, I just couldn’t stop imagining living in a world where I could go to a doctor who doesn’t owe me any duty of care, who doesn’t legally have to give a shit if I lived or died,” you sighed, then took a long swig of your drink, well aware that it was mostly diluted by the melted ice by now. “And I don’t want to contribute at all to making that world a reality. I don’t want any part of that, big or small. Even just proof-reading a legal brief. It just… grossed me out.”

You set your glass down on the table a little too harshly, the garish bang making you jump a little.

Looking up to meet the dark eyes that you could feel watching you, you searched them for something, “Jaemin, do you think I’m a hypocrite? I-I have all these opinions, but when it comes down to it, I’m at this job, helping attorneys to write briefs that say all this horrible stuff.”

His gaze was steady as he answered, “I think that if you had to find a new job every time your boss asked you to do something that went against your morals in the slightest way, you’d be spending so much of your time trying to find new jobs that you’d never have the time to actually impact the world in any meaningful way.”

“So that’s a yes.”

“That’s a ‘you proof-reading one brief isn’t going to bring about the end of The Hippocratic Oath and all morality is relative anyway.’”

“Damn, moral relativism…” you clicked your tongue. “Intro to Philosophy flashbacks aside, you might be making some points, Jaemin.”

“Thanks, I try,” he chuckled. Tilting his head to the side, he brought a hand up to grace over your new earrings again, tender but contemplative gaze in his obsidian eyes, “Y/N, do you think I’m a monster?”

His voice wasn’t sad or forlorn, just curious, inquisitive. You took his hand in yours—the one that was looking over the jewelry he’d just gifted you—and squeezed it. It was really more self-soothing than anything else, and he ran his thumb over your bejeweled knuckles in response.

“And where’s this coming from?”

“Humans have a lot of monstrous ideas about death and the dead. I want to know what you think.”

“In my ghost lit class, one of the concepts we discussed was the difference between the monstrous and the divine. I argued that there is no line between the two, that it’s up to how one chooses to interpret what they’re seeing or experiencing.” You brushed the back of your fingers over his cadaverous cheeks, taking comfort in the familiar cold against your skin. “So no, Jaemin, you’re not a monster. Not to me.”

You finally found what you’d been searching for in his eyes, that warmth of evanescing embers that compelled you to keep looking lest you miss the moment the ephemeral glow finally died. Your fingers were still caressing his cheek, softly, he was still holding you with a hand on your back, and he was beholding you with a yearning that made your heart lurch against your ribcage; and you knew in that moment if you asked him for his own heart he would have reached his hand into his chest and given it to you, the organ still beating and dripping crimson. Surging forward, you claimed his lips with your own. He reciprocated your kiss with one that made your head spin and your very bones ache and burn with a craving to both embower him and be consumed by him. Jaemin, god of the Underworld, your Hades.

“Hey, Y/N, I need you to draft a—”

“I’m going on lunch, Sicheng. I can in sixty minutes.”

“Oh. Right.”

“Y/N, will you please help me research this—”

“Qian Kun, the clock just struck 5:00 p.m., the work day is over. I’m going home and you should too.”

“God, sorry, I didn’t even realize. Yes, go home. I still have so much to—”

“I say this with the best intentions and all the platonic, workplace appropriate, and professional love in the world: Don’t make me go into your office and turn your computer off without saving your files.”

“…5:30?”

“Fine. And you know I can check your billing logs in the system, right? I’ll be able to see if you’re here even a minute past 5:30.”

“I know that now.”

“Uh-huh. Goodnight, Kun.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

And so went your days at Kim & Moon, helping to conduct the three-ring circus that was Kun, Sicheng, and Yangyang. Despite the legal assistant initially seeming like a trustworthy and responsible ally on your first day, you soon found that he was an accomplice to the madness, or more often than not, the instigator. He was good at his job, and you could rely on him to make sure things got done by deadlines. But when it came to making the workplace itself run smoothly and ensuring your day-to-day lives were stress-free? Absolutely not. He knew exactly how to make his attorneys tick in the worst ways.

Dong “dumber than a box of rocks” Sicheng was the current victim of Yangyang’s boredom today. How he could even get bored with your workload was just a testament to his efficiency, but it irked you that instead of using this free time for good he instead used it to be the menace of the millennium.

“Isn’t that right, Y/N?” Yangyang’s voice suddenly cut into the recording of Ms. Haseul’s voice that was playing into your headphones. His tone clearly begged for you to agree with him.

“Hm?” You took the headphones off and paused the dictation.

Sicheng was standing at Yangyang’s desk, a stapler in his hands. You raised an eyebrow to look between them. This seemed somewhat normal so far.

“All the new staplers now have a safety mechanism so that they won’t staple fingers because a kid stapled all the way through his finger and his parents sued the stapler company for like millions of dollars,” the assistant said with the right amount of casualness, sincerity, and almost disbelief that Sicheng didn’t know this ‘common piece of knowledge.’ “They rolled out the new ones what—ten years ago?”

“You seriously interrupted my transcription for this?” You rolled your eyes. You were about to put your headphones back in when you saw Sicheng tentatively reaching his index finger towards the mouth of the stapler. “No, Sicheng!”

You lurched forward to take the stapler from his hand before he could test the ‘safety mechanism’ on himself. Yangyang had to bury his face in his arms on his desk to stifle his laughter.

“He was lying, wasn’t he?” Sicheng was catching on quicker to when Yangyang was teasing him these days. Not quick enough that you didn’t have to intervene every time you saw it happening, but you had to give him credit somewhere at least. Sometimes you didn’t have to explain to him afterwards the fact that he was being had.

“How did you even become a lawyer, Sicheng? How did you get through law school?” You waved the stapler at him accusatorily. “And I don’t mean grades, I’ve read some of your briefs, so I don’t doubt your 4.0 GPA. I mean how did you not die before you ever got there? How did you not stick a fork in an electrical socket, or eat candy with razorblades in it, or get kidnapped before you met me? I’m convinced you should be dead in a ditch and yet here you are.”

“It’s because he’s pretty,” Kun walked up to your desks then, setting down the papers in his hand to pinch Sicheng’s cheek, and the other attorney swatted his hand away. “People want to do stuff for him.”

Yangyang had sobered up from his laughing fit, teasing glint in his eye now focused on his other attorney, “That why you followed him to Kim & Moon, Kun? To make sure the big bad lawyers here don’t be mean to your pretty Sichengie?”

“So all sense of professionalism and decorum is just out the window right now?” Sicheng scoffed.

“That is not how it happened, Yangyang, and you know it,” Kun rolled his eyes.

“Did you two know each other before you worked at the firm?” You asked, realizing that you didn’t actually know anything about how the two associates had started at Kim & Moon, even after working at the firm for six months now.

Kun took it upon himself to explain, “We were friends in law school. I was a year ahead of Sicheng and after I graduated, I did a short stint at the prosecutor’s office. He came here straight out of law school.”

The other attorney finished the story, “When Kun figured out being a prosecutor wasn’t his thing after a couple years, he came to Kim & Moon as well.”

“That’s cute. Besties who litigate together, stay together. Right Jeno?” You tossed the last question over your shoulder at your friend who was working at his own desk. Jeno gave a thumbs up back without turning around, and you could see that his headphones were definitely in. Returning to the other three men with you, you looked to your fellow assistant, “And what about you, Yang? When did you start working here?”

“Oh you mean the worst day of my life?” Yangyang sighed melodramatically.

“One of these days I’ll record you with my dictaphone when you say that, play it for the senior partners, and you’ll be out of here you little demon,” Sicheng narrowed his eyes at his assistant.

“Anyway, I actually started out as an intern like…” Yangyang craned his neck around until he spotted a tall, lanky figure carrying probably too many boxes of copier toner into the copy room. “Like Sungchan over there. I got an internship here in undergrad because one of my professors knew Mr. Jeong, and I didn’t have anything better to do. Then once I graduated, I had no other plans and was offered a full-time legal assistant position working with Yejin. She was Ms. Haseul’s paralegal before you, Y/N. She used to do all of Ms. Haseul and Sicheng’s work by herself. They wanted to have Kun start medical malpractice too, so I came on as more support.”

“And when was that?”

“I came on full time a little before Jeno started I think?” Yangyang grabbed a pen from his desk, spinning his chair around and throwing the pen at said man. It missed Jeno’s head, thankfully, smacking against one of his monitors and clattering onto his keyboard. Your friend whipped around, immediately focusing in on your chaotic coworker as the source.

“What?”

“When was your first day at the firm?”

“I don’t know, summer like two years ago now?”

“Sounds about right. Thanks.”

“I’m keeping the pen, asshole.”

“I have more.” Yangyang shrugged, once again turning back to your conversation. “So I started full-time probably May that same year.”

“You are a galactic-threat level menace,” you shook your head. “You know that, right?”

“Don’t compliment him, Y/N,” Kun sighed.

Laid in Jaemin’s arms one night, feeling full, warm, and content, you couldn’t think of anywhere else you wanted to be in that moment. Dinner had been exceptionally delicious that night, and when you got back to your apartment you wanted nothing but to curl up with him on your couch, which he easily indulged you in. He picked a couple books off your shelf, plopped down onto your couch, and pulled you down on top of him. You nearly melted when he tucked you under his chin, and had been in a hazy state of half-consciousness since. Your eyes would occasionally flutter open or shut as you listened to his heartbeat under your ear, the sound of his fingers running along the pages as he turned them, and felt his chest rise and fall with his breaths. His arms were wrapped around you enough to read the book behind your head—The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, you’d caught a glimpse of the cover. You knew when he’d found a passage that he was exceptionally taken with or wanted to ponder, because one of his hands—the right one, specifically—would fall to the small of your back just under the hem of your shirt, his middle finger drawing mindless circles along your skin until he was ready to move on.

This particular part seemed to be stumping him, though, as his fingers ruminated on your back for much longer than they had before. Before you could comment on this, you let out an embarrassing noise at the sudden feeling of his cool fingertips working their way up your spine then along your shoulder blades, caressing your skin and pressing on your body playfully.

“Jaemin!” You coughed to cover up the squeak in your voice. “What are you doing?”

“Just checking for wings, I know they’ve got to be around here somewhere,” his words hummed against you as you continued to wriggle away from the ticklish feeling.

His book had apparently been set aside at some point, as you felt both his hands on you. When you’d finally managed to twist yourself onto your back, albeit still on top of him, he gave up his ministrations.

You couldn’t help the tiny bursts of laughter that continued to bubble up out of you at the pure cheesiness, “After thousands of years, you still can’t get better lines than that?”

You grabbed his hand, holding your linked hands to your chest, a fond smile on your lips as you looked down at his fingers between yours. He kept you tucked under his chin, wrapping his left arm around your waist as you had already claimed his right.

“Why would I want to when they make you giggle like that?” He then splayed his right palm over your chest, and you could feel your heartbeat thrum up against it as if your heart were trying to leap into his waiting hand, “And make your heart race like this?”

Another few moments passed by of the two of you quietly listening to your heartbeat before you spoke up again; softly, absentmindedly, the words leaving your mouth as soon as you thought them, “Sometimes I feel more like Icarus with you, actually.”

“How do you mean?”

“I swear sometimes it feels like it’s just too good to be true, like I’m too happy and if I’m not careful it’ll all melt away and I’ll fall into the ocean.”

“You do remember the other part, right? Icarus was warned that if he flew too low, the seawater would weigh down his wings.”

“…You’re right.”

“Of course I am,” he said, and you could hear the smug smile in his voice, annoyed that it actually kind of made you feel better. The fact that your Hades was so confident about something, it made you want to believe in it too. His right hand moved from your chest so that two of those fingers could lift your chin. Once you were looking up at him, he continued, “Besides, you don’t have beeswax wings anyway, you have angel wings, remember?”

You let out something between a scoff and a chuckle, both in disbelief that he was still on about that, and also absolutely smitten with him as usual.

Knowing that he didn’t have you convinced or cheered up enough for his liking, Jaemin’s other hand snaked to the space in between his chest and your back, fingers playing at the bones of your shoulder blades once more. “Aha! I’ve finally found them, Y/N, they’re right here! I told you you’ve got angel wings!”

The longer he went on the more his fingers drifted around to your sides to tickle you instead, and you squirmed in his grip as both his hands participated in the assault, you soon falling from your previous spot on top of him. His arms darted out to gently guide your tumble, twisting himself around to make sure that you landed on the couch cushions instead of the ground.

“Jaemin!” You yelped out as the breath was being squeezed from your lungs.

He quickly let up his tickle attack, now hovering over you, supported by a hand on either side of your head. You looked up at your Hades with a bright grin that surely mirrored his, reaching up to grab his face with both your hands and kiss that smile right off him.

“Anything else on the agenda, Y/L/N?” Ms. Haseul prompted you.

“No, ma’am,” you shook your head, having crossed off the final thing. You’d just concluded your monthly team meeting for everyone under Ms. Haseul’s purview at the office.

“Does anybody have anything to add?”

At the other three shaking their heads, Ms. Haseul dismissed everyone, already efficiently packing up her supplies in her briefcase.

“Y/L/N, don’t forget to send that memo to Mr. Moon and Lee Donghyuck,” she reminded you on her way out, referencing the managing partner and his trusted paralegal.

“Of course, Ms. Haseul.” You nodded, but she was already out the door.

The other four of you were a little slower to leave. You cracked your back as you stood, “Alright, I’m going to the break room to grab a cup of coffee, anybody coming with?”

“I have to jump on a conference call in a couple minutes, but could someone get me a cup?” Sicheng asked from the threshold of the doorway. “The orange K-cups, two sugars.”

“Sure, Sicheng, I’ll grab you one,” you nodded for him to go ahead, and he immediately disappeared down the hall.

“Y/N, what did I tell you about telling him no?” Yangyang chastised you as he tucked his pen behind his ear. “All those suffragettes didn’t chain themselves to stuff for you to give in to the patriarchy so easily.”

“Yangyang, I’m really starting to think that you’re just one of those guys who took a singular Women and Gender Studies class in college and hasn’t shut up since.”

“I think Yangyang is one of those guys who was born and hasn’t shut up since,” Kun scoffed under his breath.

But your fellow assistant wasn’t letting it go, “Y/N, seriously—”

“Liu Yangyang, it’s a cup of coffee, and I’m already going there anyway. If you asked me to make you a cup and I was already going, I’d say yes too. If Sicheng asks me to wash his car or clean his apartment, I promise I’ll say no.” You rolled your eyes. “Anyway, are you coming with to watch me singlehandedly take away my right to vote by making a man a cup of coffee or not?”

“Yeah, fine.”

“Can we go then?” Kun asked sternly, clearly waiting by the door for the two of you to stop bickering. The twitch of his hand belied that he was itching for his caffeine fix. Presumably his fourth or fifth cup at least. He must have pulled a late night or early morning. Or both.

“Oh and we’ve even got Kun to witness the downfall of gender equality as we know it!” You cheered in mock enthusiasm.

“Do I want to know what the hell you two are talking about?”

Jeno was already in the breakroom when you got there, pouring creamer into his own cup of coffee. He stepped aside for the attorney to use the machine as you and Yangyang struck up conversation with your friend.

“Did you guys see that email Mr. Jeong sent to all the support staff this morning?” Jeno asked, shaking in some sugar.

“About the Administrative Staff Appreciation Lunch tomorrow?” You confirmed. “Yeah, I’d feel a lot more appreciated if they could get somewhere nicer than the pizza place down the street to cater.”

“Or just get an open bar,” Yangyang snorted. “No lunch necessary.”

As you and Jeno groaned out your agreement, Kun had finished making his black coffee, freeing up the machine for you to start on yours and Sicheng’s.

The attorney was on his way out but slowed to a stop in the threshold of the doorway, turning and lowering his voice to address the three of you, “You didn’t hear this from me, but all of the associates were taken out for an appreciation lunch just last week at Nobu. You all deserve much more than pizza.”

And with that, he left the break room.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Jeno spat out, setting his cup down and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh now I definitely need a fucking drink,” you sighed, violently snapping Sicheng’s orange K-cup into place.

“I’m going to key somebody’s Tesla,” Yangyang whispered resolutely, curling one of his hands into a fist.

“No, Yangyang.” You shook your head, grabbing the two sugar packets you’d need in a minute. “No property damage. Or no property damage in our parking garage with cameras. Lord knows I’m not paying your bail.”

Your best friend took over, “What we need is a drink, or five. Tomorrow after work?”

Yangyang grabbed a coffee stirrer and gestured around wildly as he spoke. “Oh yeah, especially after that fucking insulting pizza party they’re throwing us.”

“We can invite all the support staff. At least the ones we actually like,” Jeno suggested. “Us three, Lee Donghyuck, Osaki Shotaro in Billing, uh, Sungchan the intern…”

As he trailed off, you all looked at each other.

“And that’s it, right?” Jeno asked.

“Our coworkers kind of suck, don’t they?” Yangyang mused, chewing on the plastic stirrer.

“Or are we just assholes?” You locked your own K-cup into the coffee machine.

That night you were sprawled out on your couch, legs propped up in Jaemin’s lap as you anxiously scrolled through restaurant recommendations on your phone. Every Saturday night you and Jaemin tried a new place, and this week it was your turn to pick, but you were yet to find one, fearing that the two of you had finally ran out of restaurants in your city. Jaemin, meanwhile, was reading another book from your ghost lit syllabus, Frankenstein by Mary Shelley. You swore he’s read more of those books than you ever did, and you actually paid to take the class.

A text popping up on your screen from Jeno caught your eye.

[make it double: you’re DD tomorrow, right?]

[you: i am. might have other plans though, let me double check]

[make it double: don’t make me pay for an uber please]

“Jaemin,” you called out his name softly.

“Yes?” He put his thumb in the novel to hold his place as he looked over to you attentively.

You’d think that you’d get used to this, your Hades’ full attention on you, head lolling to the side as his gaze drank you in, black hair falling into his eyes, and fingertips messing with the edges of the pages absentmindedly. But you still weren’t, your breath hitching in your throat for a moment, your question being momentarily forgotten.

After a beat, you finally regained your speech and were able to say, “Some of my coworkers want to go out for drinks after work tomorrow, but I know that’s your time that I gave you.”

“I can come a couple hours late and we’ll add an hour each to Saturday and Sunday,” Jaemin suggested.

“Here’s the thing: tomorrow is a Friday, and Jeno and I have been taking turns DD’ing whenever we go out since college, and it’s my turn.”

“You’re anticipating a late night.” He surmised.

“I’m anticipating taking care of a drunk Lee Jeno until midnight then passing out as soon as I get home. I can’t imagine I’ll be much fun to be around after.”

“And you want to go get drinks with these people?” He clarified with an eyebrow raised.

“I know I’m not making it sound appealing but yes, I promise,” you chuckled.

“Just checking that this wasn’t a cry for help.” Jaemin tucked his bookmark in the novel to fully set it aside. “How about we move those eight hours to Saturday or Sunday then? Instead of arriving at six p.m., I'll get here at ten a.m. and we can spend the day together too.”

You squinted skeptically at him, “Can you even go out during the day? Won’t the sun burn you or light you on fire or make you glitter or something?”

“I’m the god of the dead, angel, not a vampire from a teen movie.”

“I know, just teasing,” you snickered.

“And I know you were just teasing. I love to see the little smile you get on your face in the middle of one your bits. Too adorable.”

He grabbed your free hand, and you watched him fondly as he kissed your fingers before letting your linked hands rest over your stomach.

You continued your weekend planning, “I’ll need to recuperate from Friday night and run some errands on Saturday, so a Sunday date sounds perfect. For sixteen hours straight, you’re mine.”

“I’m yours all the time,” he squeezed your hand.

“You know what I meant, you sap.” You rolled your eyes despite how warm his words made you feel inside. With the daytime suddenly available to you, a destination immediately popped into your mind, “And no making big romantic plans, I’ve got it this time; I know exactly where I want to take you for our first daytime date.”

“Understood. I can’t wait.”

Sunday morning you were practically skipping through town, relishing in the warm sun on your skin and the feeling of Jaemin’s fingers laced through yours. You came to a stop at an intersection, waiting impatiently for the lights to change so you could cross. Bouncing on your heels, you could feel your Hades’ gaze on you, even through the dark sunglasses he was wearing.

“What?” You asked, taking your eyes off the crosswalk signal to look over at him.

“Nothing.” He was grinning at you, hair getting blown around by the passing cars. His shirt was made of a loose-fitting, flowy material with a deep-cut V-neckline, showing off an assortment of fine silver chains with pendants and gems. Even the leather belt around his hips betrayed a subtle expensiveness, the impression of a designer brand’s logo on the buckle.

He pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek, making a smile spread across your face in turn.

“Oh, signal’s changed,” he pointed out.

The rest of your walk didn’t take long, and finally you had arrived.

“Art museum?” Jaemin questioned as you tugged him towards the front doors.

“Yep!” You were buzzing, and fought to keep your voice down once you passed the threshold into the quiet building.

He bought your tickets, and you accepted the informational pamphlet from the worker behind the front desk that listed the exhibits, quickly tucking it into your handbag.

The first gallery was just behind the ticket counter, and was one of the largest, mostly for paintings. You stopped Jaemin at the very first one by the door.

“I brought Jeno here exactly once,” you whispered. “You see how big this gallery is? He cleared the whole thing in like two minutes then waited for me at the door literally tapping his foot.”

“There’s like a hundred paintings in here,” Jaemin pointed out in disbelief, looking around the gymnasium-sized room.

“I know. I’ve been back by myself and spent over two hours in just this gallery alone. Saw the docents switch out like four times.”

Looping your arm through his, you leaned against your Hades to look over the first painting. You liked to just absorb the piece in front of you, ruminate on it, really ground yourself in what you were looking at. Sometimes you read the small information card next to it about the artist and the piece. But mostly you looked at the subject, the brush strokes, the colors and how they blended into each other—or didn’t. It was relaxing. Sometimes the paintings made you feel things, and sometimes they didn’t. Sometimes they were just pretty to look at.

Jaemin was quiet for the most part, occasionally commenting when he especially enjoyed a painting, or to respond to something you said. But generally the two of you were silent, and you were satisfied that you’d found the perfect art museum companion. He never dragged you from a painting before you were done with it and even wanted to stay with some longer than you did.

The museum had three levels, the second was split into two smaller galleries, this time with sculptures, drawings, and etchings. After you and your Hades were done with that one, you found it difficult not to practically run up the stairwell to the third and final floor, knowing exactly what was waiting for you there.

“Okay, Jaemin, so this museum has something kind of special,” you forewarned him, pressing your lips together in an attempt to fight off your excited smile. “Or, I hope it’ll be special. I think it’s special, you know, for you.”

He tilted his head curiously at you as the two of you reached the top of the stairs, “Okay. It’s up here?”

“Yeah, yeah, come on,” you took him by the hand to pull him towards the entrance door to the final gallery.

The gallery you had entered was void of other patrons; and sectioned up into several smaller areas, many stark white pedestals displaying vases, urns, trinkets, with a large marble sculpture of a woman at the center as the focal point. Your focus was entirely on Jaemin’s face as you held your breath, waiting for his reaction. His eyes widened as he scanned the contents of the room.

“It’s…”

“An Ancient Greece exhibit,” you finished his sentence, drawing his eyes back to you. You fidgeted with your ring nervously, “What… uhm— Do you like it? Like, do you want to look around? This isn’t weird, is it?”

Jaemin brushed a piece of your hair back from your face, the tenderness of his touch making your chest swell. He pulled you closer, kissing your forehead before pulling back to look you in the eye.

“This is great, angel, thank you.”

At his words, you let out an audible sigh of relief. Your Hades’ obsidian irises were twinkling in the museum fluorescents as he looked at you with pure adoration.

“I love you,” he declared simply, earnestly, for the first time. “And, I’ll never love someone exactly like this again.”

You nodded in understanding, “I love you too, Jaemin. And, I believe you.”

He was still holding you, and despite the emptiness of the exhibit you were currently in, you were aware of the fact that it was a public museum that you two were in.

“Jaemin…” you murmured, listening to the docent’s footsteps in the other room. “Don’t you want to look at all the stuff?”

“In a second,” his tender gaze roamed your face. “Right now I’m looking at something more beautiful.”

“Oh God, you’re so chee—” Your retort was cut off by Jaemin finally pressing his lips to yours.

Blearily looking around your room, you realized that it was vacant in the only way that mattered. Jaemin was gone, and you didn’t remember getting into bed last night. You were pretty sure you had fallen asleep on your couch with your Hades after getting back from your long day out. Half-sitting up against your headboard, you grabbed your phone from your nightstand to check the time. You still had five minutes until your work alarm went off. Flopping back down, you were fully intent on dozing back off, and rolled over to face the empty half of your bed.

Except it wasn’t quite empty. Atop the second pillow was a small black box. When you reached out to grab it, you felt the velvet that encased it, and pushed yourself up onto your side, held up by an elbow. It was a jewelry case of some kind. Flipping the lid open, you took a sharp breath in. Inside was a gorgeous necklace; a teardrop-shaped gemstone the size of your thumbnail in a deep red shade, surrounded by smaller white diamonds, and hanging from a dainty silver chain.

Clicking on your bedside lamp, you were able to get a better look at the center stone. It was a dark, cool red, with just the slightest tone of purple when you held it up in front of the light. Outside of direct light, it was so dark you couldn't even call it blood red. Pomegranate red, you thought to yourself. It was the color of fresh, bursting pomegranate seeds.

Unlatching the hook, you carefully clasped it back around your neck. The crystal wasn’t obnoxiously weighty, but you could feel the subtle pressure of it as it rested against your bare skin.

“Thank you, Jaemin,” you mumbled, eyes trailing over the unoccupied sheets longingly. “I love it.”

“Damn, Y/N,” Yangyang whistled lowly as you walked into work that morning, eyeing the gems adorning your fingers, ears, and now neck. “Did you get a sugar daddy or something? You’ve got an entire jewelry shop on you.”

“Oh, uhm, no,” you shook your head, warmth spreading across your face. No sugar daddy, just the god of the Underworld.

“Mind sharing with the class where all the new bling is coming from then?”

You looked up from where your fingertip had been gently gracing the pomegranate red gem that hung from your neck to stare Yangyang directly in the eyes as you scoffed, “Actually, I would mind, thanks.”

“Bet she’s moonlighting as a cat burglar,” Jeno teased from his desk.

“Ooh, that’s a good guess,” Yangyang nodded, eyes gleaming as he continued that avenue of jibes. “Mafia boss’ daughter maybe? Y/N, what does your dad do for a living?”

The ringing of your desk phone saved you from having to respond to that. It was your boss.

“Y/L/N,” she was as monotone as ever, voice giving no indication as to her thoughts or intentions. “My office, please.”

“Yes ma’am,” you assented before placing the phone back on the receiver.

Standing from your seat, you gave Yangyang and Jeno a professionally concealed middle finger down by your thigh, earning giggles from Jeno and indignant protests from Yangyang. You coolly dropped the offending gesture to grab your company tablet, a notepad, and pencil before departing the open floor for the hallway of private offices.

You stopped in front of one partway down the hall, in the midst of the junior partners’ offices. ‘Jo Haseul’ was engraved on the nameplate in an elegant font, and you rapped your knuckles below it on the solid wood door.

“Come in,” the familiar voice of your boss called out from within.

Gently turning the handle first, you then pushed the door open.

“Good morning, Ms. Haseul,” you bowed your head politely to her.

Junior partners at the firm allowed the assistants and paralegals to address them by a formal version of their name, the associates were just addressed by their given name, but senior partners and the managing partner were of course always addressed in the most formal vernacular, Mr./Ms. Surname. Not that you really interacted with anybody higher up than Ms. Haseul anyway.

“Good morning, Y/L/N. Please, sit.” She gestured to one of the two armchairs in front of her desk.

“Thank you,” you replied quietly, taking the seat she had indicated. You quickly opened up your tablet to view her calendar and readied your pencil over your notepad. Ms. Haseul typically had a sit-down meeting with you every Monday morning to discuss the upcoming week: deadlines, hearings, meetings, etc.

Ms. Haseul took a moment to click a few things on her desktop, “Looks like we have those Hwang discovery responses due Thursday. I’ll finish dictating those this morning and you can get started on transcription today. This morning I have my hearing on the Motion to Dismiss in Lee that you filed last month. Mediation on Wednesday for Alpine Products, we sent out those letters on it, right?”

“Yes, ma’am, two weeks ago,” you confirmed, scribbling down the key events. “You also have a teleconference with the insurance company for that file this afternoon.”

“Yes, I see…” she mused, a twinge of annoyance in her tone that was only discernable to the trained ear—i.e., yours. You knew she didn’t like the insurance rep assigned to that case, he tended to be a pain in the ass constantly asking for updates. “Where are we at in scheduling the expert witness depositions for Peng?”

You filled her in on all your progress in various matters, attentively writing down her directives in response to your reporting. Finally, you had finished out the calendar for the week, as well as your works in progress.

“One last thing before I let you go, Y/L/N,” she cleared her throat.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“I have a new client meeting tonight.”

“You do? I don’t remember scheduling one,” you flipped through the calendar on your tablet in mild panic. You hadn’t booked a conference room or let building security know about an evening meeting.

“You didn’t schedule it, don’t worry.”

Your boss’ words immediately made you let out a short sigh of relief. It wasn’t long lasting, as you still needed to handle arrangements on your end, “How many will be in attendance? Will you want Jade Conference Room or Malachite? Would you like me to stay to scribe?”

“It’s a dinner meeting, so the conference room won’t be necessary.”

“Understood.”

“I would like you to come, though, Y/L/N.”

You felt your eyes bug out, stylus slipping from your fingers. Ms. Haseul never asked you to come to meetings outside of the office. Sure, you would act as scribe for some of her meetings in the office, but you’d never accompanied her to a lunch or dinner meeting.

She continued, “This will be a general corporate client, and I anticipate having them on for quite some time. You’re familiar with corporate matters, correct?”

“Yes, ma’am, that was my concentration in my paralegal studies, and you of course have several corporate clients currently.”

“I plan on having you act as case manager for this client. This dinner will be a good way for you to be introduced.”

“Of course, I’m honored, Ms. Haseul.”

The corner of her mouth quirked up just the slightest, “Good. The meeting is at Nobu in downtown. We will leave from the office at the end of the day. Change on your lunch if you need to.”

You looked down at your outfit, your typical office wear. The office’s dress code was business formal, which you made sure to follow to a T. She wanted you to wear something else?

“A little dressier but less formal,” your boss spoke again, as if reading your thoughts. “Think office Christmas party.”

An image of a suitable outfit flashed in your mind, and you nodded, “Right, thank you. I’ll change on my break.”

“That is all I have. You’re dismissed for this morning, Y/L/N. I have to prepare for that hearing now. I'll be leaving at 9:00 a.m.”

At her dismissal of you, you got back onto your feet, bowed your head to her again and departed her office. The heavy door closed with a soft click behind you. You held the pencil, notepad, and tablet in one hand as the other reached up to play with the jewel hanging from your neck. Looks like you wouldn’t be seeing your Hades until tomorrow night.

You stepped out of the company car that Ms. Haseul had driven you there in and followed her towards the restaurant. Nobu was a high-end sushi restaurant downtown, much out of your everyday dinner price-range, but you figured she’d be paying with her firm credit card since this was a business dinner.

The hostess greeted you brightly, to which Ms. Haseul informed her of your reservation.

“Of course, right this way,” she grabbed four menus before guiding you further into the restaurant.

You two were brought to a private room, and the hostess slid the door open for you. As you sat down at the table that was within, you marveled at the aesthetics of the restaurant. It fused traditional style with modernism in a way that was effortless. The menus were set down in front of each of the four chairs at the table. Your waiter came by soon, and Ms. Haseul put in an order for four waters while you waited for the clients to arrive.

The door suddenly opened again, and two men entered the room. Your eyes were first drawn to the taller of the two, who entered ahead of his colleague. He had roughly shoulder-length wavy blonde hair that was half pulled back from his face, and he was so stunning you could hardly believe that he was anything other than a model. He was wearing an all-white suit, a bold move for a dinner. When your gaze moved from the gorgeous man to his companion, you choked on your own throat. Black hair, dark eyes, silver and gems glittering across his ears. Jaemin cocked an eyebrow at you when you made eye contact with him. He was in a similar ensemble as to when he first appeared to you: black slacks, black suit jacket, and black vest. This time, however, he did have a dress shirt underneath the vest, the top buttons buttoned up as the silver chains that hung from his neck rested atop the crisp material.

Thankfully your boss took the lead on introductions, allowing you a moment to attempt to compose yourself. She stood up from her chair to greet them, as did you.

“Thank you both very much for coming, I’m Jo Haseul,” she bowed to both of them, and you rushed to follow suit from your position beside and just behind her. Ms. Haseul then gestured for you to come forward, “Mr. Suh, Mr. Na, this is my paralegal, Ms. Y/L/N Y/N. She will be your first point of contact on all matters. She’s incredibly capable and reliable. So please, reach out to her with whatever you need.”

While the open and high praise from your boss should’ve made your chest puff out with pride, instead it practically went in one ear out the other. Jaemin, your Hades, was standing right in front of you. It took everything in you to draw your eyes from him and to the floor to once again bow appropriately to him and the other man.

“Yes, please contact me with anything at all. I will do everything I can to assist you as treasured clients,” you declared respectfully before standing back up straight.

“Thank you, Ms. Jo, and of course thank you very much too, Ms. Y/L/N,” Mr. Suh was the one who acknowledged your words.  “We will be sure to contact you as needed. I’m Johnny Suh and this is my business partner, Na Jaemin.”

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Suh, Mr. Na.”

“Shall we eat, then?” Ms. Haseul suggested, prompting all of you to sit at the private table.

You took the same seat as you did before, a prick of disappointment in your chest as Johnny, not Jaemin, sat across from you. It took everything in you not to scoff and roll your eyes at yourself. What exactly would Jaemin sitting across from you accomplish? It’s not like you could do anything that indicated your knowing him prior to this meeting, especially not in the way that you do.

After drinks had been brought out and your appetizer orders were put in, Ms. Haseul began pushing her chair back, “Excuse me for a moment; ladies’ room.”

A few silent moments after she departed the private room, Mr. Suh had already finished off his drink and grabbed his empty glass. He shook it to make the ice inside clink, “I’m going to get a refill at the bar. Ms. Y/L/N, Jaemin, anything for you two while I’m there?”

“Oh, no thank you, Mr. Suh,” you hurriedly shook your head, nervous fingers twitching around your own half-full glass.

“Jaemin?”

He waved off his business partner, “I’m good, Johnny. But thank you.”

“‘Course,” he too, then exited the room.

Leaving just you and your Hades.

You finally spoke to Jaemin for the first time since being introduced, leaning forward to ask quietly, “Jaemin, don’t take this the wrong way but what the fuck are you doing here?”

A smirk came to his lips, “I told you I own a legitimate business.”

“You’re not expecting me to believe that this is an honest coincidence, are you?”

“No, of course not.” Any teasing immediately dropped out of his tone. “I obviously know what firm you work at, the best in the city. Why would I not hire the best firm in the city for my business? It would be irresponsible not to.”

“Did you request Ms. Haseul be your attorney?”

“No, she was recommended by the managing partner. And again, it would be irresponsible of me to not heed the recommendation to the best, most promising junior partner who specializes in corporate matters.”

With your worries somewhat placated, you relaxed back in your seat, “Fine. Thank you for telling me the truth.”

“Of course,” Jaemin reached across the table to brush his fingertips over the back of your hand. His fingers sparkled even in the dim light of the restaurant from the multitude of rings across his knuckles, as did yours. “I’m sorry. Does this make you uncomfortable? I’m sure we can use another attorney at the firm if you’d like. Mr. Moon mentioned a different partner too, uh, Ms. Kang?”

“And let Lee Jeno be your case manager? Absolutely not.” You retorted.

He chuckled at that, switching to smoothing circles into your skin, “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Yeah, yeah. So, your business partner, ‘Mr. Suh,’ is he... another god?”

“Smart, as always. Aphrodite.”

“I thought Aphrodite was a woman.”

“Sometimes,” he shrugged nonchalantly. “He seems to like this form right now. Changes it up every century or two.”

You mulled over this information in your mind. It certainly explained your initial idea that ‘Mr. Suh’ must’ve been some kind of model. And yet, as you looked over Jaemin’s features, you came to the conclusion that the goddess of beauty had nothing on your Hades and his haunting elegance.

“I see that you got the necklace,” he changed gears in the conversation, nodding towards where the jewel sat on your chest, easily seen with the top you were wearing.

You reached up to touch the jewelry in question, “Yes, thank you. It’s beautiful.”

“It looks even more stunning on you than I thought it would.”

“Jaemin...” You were supposed to have said his name in warning, but as your skin grew hot with equal parts embarrassment and giddiness, it came out as more of a whine.

The sound of heels clicking outside made you jerk your hand back from his, placing both of your own in your lap just a moment before Ms. Haseul opened the door. Your Hades nonchalantly picked up his drink again.

Ms. Haseul took stock of just you and Jaemin in the room, “Where’s Mr. Suh?”

“He went to get his drink refilled at the bar,” Jaemin explained as your boss took her seat once more. “Should be back soon.”

Right then the door opened once again, and the blonde man entered, amber brown drink in hand.

“Ah, speak of the devil,” your Hades let out a short laugh. “Were your ears burning, Johnny?”

“Oh, you all were talking about me?” The man grinned. “I hope you weren’t poisoning them against me, Jaemin.”

“Only bad things, John, you know that.”

“Why must you wound me at every opportunity?”

“Because you give me so many.”

You giggled at their banter, feeling yourself become a little more comfortable with your Hades there.

At the end of the dinner, after Mr. Suh had paid the bill at his insistence, the four of you were stood at the front of the restaurant.

“Thank you again for paying, Mr. Suh,” you bowed your head to him.

“No worries, I was happy to,” he waved off your thanks.

“It was a pleasure to meet you both, Ms. Jo, Ms. Y/L/N,” Jaemin spoke up, dazzling grin sweeping you off your feet for a moment. “We’re looking forward to working with you and your firm.”

“As are we,” Ms. Haseul said graciously. “I’m afraid we must be going. I have to take Y/L/N home before attending to something urgent.”

“Oh Ms. Haseul, you can go take care of whatever you need to, I’ll take a cab,” you assured her. “Please, you’ve done so much for me tonight, I can worry about getting myself home.”

“Very well, if you’re sure. Thank you, Y/L/N. See you in the morning,” she gave both you and the two gentlemen with you a final wave goodbye. “Goodnight, everyone.”

She hurried to the black company car that was parked just a little further down the block.

“I’ll go get the car,” Mr. Suh said to Jaemin. “Jaemin, if you could assist Ms. Y/L/N in hailing a cab.”

“Of course.”

And with that, Mr. Suh took off around the building towards the parking deck on the other side of the restaurant. And for the second time that night, you were alone with your Hades.

He stepped up towards the edge of the sidewalk, holding out a hand to passing traffic. You took the quiet moment as an opportunity to observe Jaemin, letting yourself bask in his presence. That same stubborn lock of his black hair had come out of place during dinner was now falling in his eyes. A nearby streetlight illuminated him from above, his unearthly features awash in a soft glow. Jaemin was stoically focused on the task at hand, a satisfied smile crossing his face as a taxi pulled over and stopped right in front of the two of you.

Wordlessly, he opened the back door for you.

“Thank you, Jaemin,” you stepped up to the vehicle.

“See you in a few, angel.”

“Right. See you.”

You climbed into the taxi, Jaemin’s cool hand on the small of your back as you did so. He gave you a wink before closing the door behind you.

The cab stopped in front of your apartment building, and you quickly paid the driver before getting out. Your apartment door swung closed behind you, and you locked up before making your way further into your home. Knowing that Jaemin would be arriving soon, you quickly kicked off your shoes and went to get into your pajamas.

Right as you walked back out of your bedroom, you heard your name being called from the living room. Turning the corner, you couldn’t help the smile that immediately came to your face when you saw your Hades standing there. He was in the same outfit as dinner, and your heart started thudding at the image of such a handsome man being there, in your living room.

“Jaemin,” you said his name in delight.

He’d just turned around before you got to him, catching him in a hug. Jaemin’s arms immediately wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush to him. Yours were around his neck, squeezing him tight, happy to just feel him there in your arms.

“Well, hey there,” he laughed. “Did you not just see me ten minutes ago?”

“I know, but I couldn’t do this ten minutes ago.”

“You could’ve, but your boss might’ve had a couple questions.”

“And she’d probably have a couple more if I did this.” You pulled your head back from where it was resting in the crook between his neck and shoulder, so that you could be face-to-face. With no hesitation, you threaded the fingers of one hand in the back of his hair and pulled his mouth to yours.

Your Hades smiled against your lips, thumbs rubbing circles into your hips. With his grip on your waist, he could easily guide you with him down the hall towards your bedroom, mouth still locked with yours.

You were sat on your kitchen counter later that night, passing a spoon back and forth with Jaemin to polish off the last of your ice cream.

“Does Mr. Suh—? Aphrodite? What should I call him?” You cut yourself off with a thoughtful frown, stumbling over what exactly to call the god-slash-client you’d met tonight.

“Johnny is fine since it’s just you and me right now,” Jaemin accepted the spoon you held out to him.

“Does Johnny know? About me, and what we actually are?”

Your Hades swallowed the spoonful he’d just popped into his mouth, returning the utensil to you, “No, I had no reason to tell him when you and I first made our agreement and now… if I told him he’d think I made the deal for your soul, no matter what I said. He likes to think that he gives me the benefit of the doubt, but he doesn’t.”

“Mm… Alright, I trust that you know him better than I do.”

“Yeah, for thousands of years. He’s a good business partner, but he can be a condescending little bitch.”

You couldn’t help but snicker at this, “Really?”

“Yeah, Johnny usually handles the client-facing side of the company while I do the back-office stuff, because according to him I ‘give clients the heebie-jeebies.’”

“You are the god of the dead, Jaemin,” you reminded him with a giggle, wiping away a stray drop of ice cream at the corner of his pout.

“I know, and that’s what makes us great business partners. I don’t want to do client meetings, I’m not good at them, he loves them, he wants to do them. Vice versa for the back-office things. But he said that like I didn’t know that already when this whole operation was my idea anyway. I factored my heebie-jeebies into the plan. The heebie-jeebies were accounted for long before he ever came into the picture, and he gently put his hand on my shoulder like he was the first person to ever explain this to me.”

“Oh of course. The audacity, to underestimate your business acumen and foresight to calculate for heebie-jeebies.” You nodded, putting on your best serious face despite the urge to laugh.

Jaemin looked you dead in the eye, then sighed, “You can laugh, Y/N.”

You immediately let out a round of giggles, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, hearing you say heebie-jeebies so much, and so seriously I just—”

“You’re right, it’s a bit juvenile,” he shook his head, face finally cracking into a smile as he plunged the spoon back into the ice cream container.

“A warning would’ve been nice, by the way.”

“A warning?” Your Hades asked through a mouthful of ice cream. “For what?”

“That you were hiring Ms. Haseul as your attorney. I understand why you’d want to use her, but not why you chose not to give me at least a little heads-up.”

He shrugged, “I thought it’d be a fun surprise.”

“Fun for you or for me?” You scoffed.

“Would you believe me if I said you?” Jaemin dug up another big spoonful of ice cream, holding it out for you this time.

“Would you believe me if I said I believed that?” You rolled your eyes, but opened your mouth for him to feed you anyway.

“No, not at all.”

A glance at your microwave clock made you sigh. It was late. You should be getting to bed, you still had two more days in your work week.

Jaemin had just turned to throw the empty ice cream carton in the trash, and thinking of work reminded you of plans you’d made with your coworkers.

Swinging your feet lightly from your perch on your countertop, you spoke up again, “Heads up, Friday is after work drinks for the support staff again. My turn DD’ing for the Terrible Two.”

“Noted.” Your Hades walked back over to you. You reached out for his forearms, dragging, pulling, and rearranging him until he was standing between your knees, allowing you to wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly to you, surrounded by the warm scents of cinnamon, bergamot, and cedar. Jaemin kept talking as he looped his arms around your waist, voice low, quiet, and right beside your ear, “Also, isn’t that phrase supposed to be ‘the terrible twos’ and refer to toddlers who throw tantrums?”

“Yeah, but it was one of the nicknames Jeno and I got in undergrad from a professor of ours. The full title was specifically ‘The Terrible Two of You.’” You hummed wistfully at the fond memories that cropped up, eyes fluttering shut as your muscles relaxed more and more in your comforting position. “Dr. Go, one of the best professors I’ve ever had. We ended up taking like three or four of his classes, and I had one more in grad school.”

“Sounds like you two were nuisances to the poor man for four years straight.”

“He was one of those professors that treated students like actual human beings, and you could joke around with. Hence, the nickname. I promise we were good students and the man adored us. Well, me, at least. Jeno on the other hand…”

“You always say the meanest things about that guy and he’s never around to defend himself,” Jaemin clicked his tongue teasingly. “So it sounds like I’ll be bringing bagels Saturday morning then?”

“Please?”

“Of course, angel,” he murmured, rubbing a hand up and down your back.

“Okay Jeno, here you go,” you patted your friend’s back before taking his arm off from where it had been looped around your shoulders, giving him a gentle push to deposit him face-down onto his bed.

Getting him up to the third floor of his building wasn’t so bad this time, he was able to support his own weight for the most part and needed you primarily to make sure he didn’t veer into a wall or trip over his own feet. But he did seem to think that knocking his apartment key from your hand while you tried to unlock his front door was a fun little game.

“I recommend changing into pajamas before going to sleep,” you said from where you stood at his bedside, looking down at him as he twisted around to squint up at you.

“Good idea, Y/N,” Jeno nodded, sitting up in his bed. “That’s why you… why you got that degree.”

“Of course. I got my Master of Legal Studies solely to give you sage advice when you’re drunk.”

As Jeno grabbed at the hem of his shirt, presumably to take heed of said sage advice, you quickly turned, shielding your eyes and heading for the bedroom door.

“I’ll grab you some water and medication. Let me know when you’re done.”

After filling up a water bottle and grabbing medication for the imminent nausea and future headache, you waited in the hall outside your friend’s room. He yelled out something that sounded like a ‘Ready!’ and you hesitantly tried the door handle. Opening the bedroom door again, you were relieved to see that Jeno was at least decent. Sure, his t-shirt was on backwards, but he was wearing pants, which was your main concern. No need for a repeat of Nu Kappa Theta’s Halloween party your sophomore year: plastered Jeno, DD you, and a missing pair of boxers. Needless to say, you were scarred for life, and Jeno couldn’t remember anything from that night past arriving at the NuKapp house still fully clothed. Lucky bastard.

You set the water and meds down on his nightstand to guide him back over to sit down on the edge of the bed. Kneeling on his bed behind him, you prepared to turn his shirt around the right way.

“Come on, arms up.”

He did as you asked, and you only took it off his arms, flipping it around at his neck before working on getting his arms back into the sleeves.

“Arms down.”

And his arms flopped back down obediently in his lap.

“Are you 23 or 3, dude?” You snickered.

“I can put a shirt on, Y/N!” His voice was practically a whine, but his movements had no umph to them as he let you manhandle him like changing a child.

“Apparently not, Jeno.”

He was quiet as you finally got the other arm in, and he straightened out the torso of the shirt himself.

“Alright, there you go.” You patted his shoulder before climbing off his bed to grab the water and medication once more. “You didn’t drink enough that I feel concerned about alcohol poisoning so I’m not going to make you puke your guts out tonight.”

“I ‘preciate that.”

“Me too. So, pills for you to keep it all down… and pills for the bitch of a headache coming your way in the morning,” you pointed at each in turn as you held out the tablets. After he grabbed those, you gave him the bottle. “And water. Wash them down then have a few more sips before going to sleep, please.”

“You’re the best,” Jeno mumbled before putting the tabs in his mouth. He knocked them back with the water then started to lay down in bed, “He’s lucky to have you. And I’m lucky to have you, too.”

Your friend had been trying to pull the covers up over himself, except he was also on top of them. Amused, you began assisting him as you entertained his drunk ramblings, “He who?”

“Th’ guy you’re seein’, duh!” His words were slurring together at this point as he let you tuck him in. “Th’ one with all th’ rings ‘n stuff. We’re lucky t’ have you, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Jeno.” You sat beside him on the bed to brush some of his hair out of his face as his eyes started fluttering shut.

“Even if… even if you won’ let me… meet ‘im. ‘M lucky… t’ be your bes’ friend.”

You let out a bittersweet sigh at that, your hand coming to stillness on his head as he completely fell asleep. He knew you were keeping something from him and was letting you bring it to him at your own pace, and you loved him for that. And he really was your best friend, you’d seen each other through everything of the past nearly six years. The Dynamic Duo, Trouble and Make it Double, The Terrible Two of You. You’d sign up for classes together to make sure you’d sync up your schedules as much as possible, pulled innumerable all-nighters in the library together, were roommates in your first off-campus apartment, done your undergraduate research together, you were there when he got the news of his grandfather passing, and you were certain he’d kept creepy guys off you at parties more times than you’d ever know.

“And I’m lucky to be yours, Lee Jeno,” you said quietly to his sleeping form, watching his even, shallow breaths.

Usually everything was simple with Jeno. Your friendship with Jeno was always simple, even the stuff that felt complicated or heavy at the time, the solution was simple: talk to him. When you’d dropped his phone in the street and it got ran over, absolutely shattering the screen; when you’d forgotten to pay the power bill for your shared apartment one month and your electricity was turned off for a day; when it was his turn to DD at a party, you were a little more than tipsy and ended up making out with his brother Mark. It all worked out because the two of you had talked.

But this time… you were dating a client of the firm. A client of your attorney. A client who was a god. Admittedly, you’d started your relationship before he’d become a client. But again, he was Hades. Then there was how exactly you’d met. Even just thinking about which parts to tell, how much to tell, and what you’d inevitably have to bend, twist, or straight up lie about to Jeno made your head spin.

There at least was nothing you could do tonight.

So you gave his hair one last ruffle before standing up and walking over to his dresser. Your plans had initially been to go back to your own apartment, but you didn’t want to traverse the streets all alone this late at night. Is at least what you told yourself. Really, you’d been missing your best friend. After grabbing a couple articles of clothing that could serve as pajamas, you also stole the second pillow from his bed and a spare blanket before heading out of his bedroom.

You quietly shut the door behind you, setting the bedding down on the couch and changing clothes in the bathroom. After going around to turn off all the lights in the apartment and double check the locks on the front door, you finally laid down for the night. In the low light, you found yourself looking over all the rings and things adorning your hands and wrists. They were all gorgeous, but you still favored the simple silver band, the first one Jaemin ever gave you, to seal the deal you had made the night he appeared to you.

A robotic melody took your focus away from the document on your monitor that you had been drafting. You glanced over at the screen of your office phone, the source of the ringing. ‘RECEPTION’ was emblazoned across it in all caps.

Holding the receiver to your ear with your shoulder, you grabbed for your telephone notepad and a pen, “This is Y/N.”

“Hey Y/N!” The bright voice of the firm’s receptionist, Somi, greeted you. “There’s a Mr. Johnny Suh on line 1 for you.”

“Great, I’ll take him, thank you!”

“No problem.”

You scrawled down Mr. Suh’s name and number from the caller ID on your notepad before pressing the button for his hold, “Thank you for holding, this is Y/L/N Y/N.”

“Hi, Ms. Y/L/N, this is Johnny Suh, how are you?”

“I’m good, Mr. Suh, thank you. How are you?”

“Only thing that’s changed is the weather, you know?” He chuckled.

You gave a short laugh, not entirely sure what he meant by that but needing to build your rapport anyway, “And how can I help you?”

“I am looking to schedule a meeting with you for us to discuss some assets. When are you available next week?”

“Let’s see…” You pulled up your calendar. “Just myself or Ms. Haseul as well?”

“Just you, Ms. Jo has assured us of your capabilities.”

“Oh, thank you, Mr. Suh,” you were warmed at the indirect praise. You couldn’t believe how much Ms. Haseul had apparently talked you up to these clients. “I’m free next Monday afternoon, Tuesday until 1:00, and all day Wednesday and Thursday.”

“Wednesday should be fine. 10:00 a.m.?”

“Yes sir, I have you down for Wednesday at 10:00. Will it be just you in attendance or is Mr. Na coming as well?”

“Actually, it will just be Jaemin. I have prior arrangements that day.”

“Understood,” you made the correction on your notes. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“No, that is all I needed from you, Ms. Y/L/N. Thank you for your time.”

“Of course, sir, thank you for calling.”

“Have a good day.”

“You too, goodbye.”

With that, you hung up, immediately pressing the quick-dial button for reception.

“Hey Y/N!” Somi was as cheery as ever when she picked up.

“Hi, Somi, what do conference room bookings look like for next Wednesday at 10:00 a.m.? Just two people in attendance.”

“Obsidian is open, or—”

“Obsidian will be fine,” you immediately jumped at her words. “I have a client meeting: Mr. Na Jaemin from Olympus Investments.”

“Okay, you are all booked for 10:00 a.m. on Wednesday.”

“Thank you very much, Somi.”

“You’re welcome, Y/N. Is that it?”

“Yes, thanks,” you put the phone back on the receiver in order to use both hands to enter the details in your calendar.

‘Client Meeting w/ Mr. Na Jaemin; re: assets; Obsidian Conference Room’

“Oh shit,” Yangyang frowned, tossing the coffee cup he had just picked up into his trashcan. “I’m out of coffee. Anybody coming to the breakroom with me?”

Jeno pushed his chair back from his desk with a groan, “Sure, if I don’t take a lap before replying to this email I just got, somebody’s going to get their feelings hurt.”

“Y/N?”

You shook your head, eyes still on your screen as you printed off a couple copies of the documents you’d need, “Would if I could, but I’ve got a client meeting in a few minutes.”

“Who?”

“Uh, Mr. Na Jaemin, CFO of Olympus Investments. General corporate client of Ms. Haseul’s.”

“Gross, sounds boring,” Yangyang wrinkled his nose. “I’ll keep you in my prayers.”

“Thanks, Yang,” you rolled your eyes.

Just then, your desk phone rang, and you grabbed it without taking your eyes off your screen as you printed a couple more things, “This is Y/L/N Y/N.”

“Hey Y/N!” It was Somi. “Mr. Na Jaemin is here for his 10:00 appointment with you. I’ve gone ahead and set up Obsidian for you two, he’s waiting in the lobby.”

“Can you let him know I’ll be there in just a couple minutes?”

“Of course.”

“Thanks, Somi!”

You hung up, standing and grabbing all your materials from your desk, then off the printer. Momentarily stopping to organize your papers, you then made your way to the reception area, flashing Somi a smile before your eyes landed on him, on your Hades.

Keeping a straight spine and formal bow of your head, you greeted him politely, “Good morning, Mr. Na, it’s a pleasure to see you again. Welcome to Kim & Moon.”

“Good morning, Ms. Y/L/N. Thank you, thank you,” Jaemin bowed back, flashing you a dazzling grin once he’d stood back up. “Shall we?”

“You can’t do that.” You shook your head at the business proposal you’d just heard from Jaemin. The two of you were deep into your meeting about reviewing Olympus Investment’s plans for renegotiating assets in the next quarter.

Jaemin’s brow furrowed in confusion, shifting forward in his spot across the table from you as he pointed to some numbers on his paper, “Of course we can, there’s plenty of assets to pull from—”

“Doesn’t matter, courts say no you can’t. There was a ruling ten, fifteen years ago now that’s been used as precedent in a swath of multi-billion dollar cases since. I actually studied this particular case law quite a bit because—hey!” You cut off your own excited rambling with a snap of your fingers in the space created by the table between yours and Jaemin’s faces.

Jaemin blinked at you innocently, “What?”

“Stop admiring me with that lovestruck grin on your face and listen, this is important.”

“I’m admiring and listening, I can multitask,” he countered teasingly, picking up his pen again. “Anyway, continue.”

“I studied this particular piece of case law in depth because I had a professor who was one of the attorneys who argued the original ruling. It’s a common thing that companies looking to redistribute assets will try to do. And you can’t.”

“You’re right.” Your Hades was beaming at you.

“About this? Of course I am,” you snorted, flicking through your papers to find what you needed to review next.

“Well yes, but I meant about you being good at your job.”

A smile crept across your lips as you continued busying yourself with looking for your papers.

After your meeting had concluded, you walked Jaemin back to the lobby, giving him a final business-appropriate goodbye before turning around to make your way to your desk. You nearly jumped out of your skin when you saw Jeno seemingly waiting for you back behind the reception area. Suppressing your lovestruck grin, you approached your friend and started meandering back to your desks with him.

“Who was that, Y/N?” He nodded back towards the lobby.

“Mr. Na, the corporate client of Ms. Haseul’s I was telling you about earlier,” you desperately tried to keep your voice level and nonchalant as you talked about Jaemin. “I said I had a client meeting this morning.”

“And I was expecting like an eighty-year-old man,” Jeno snorted. “That guy looked like he was—I don’t know maybe five, ten years older than us at the most?”

“I’m… sorry to disappoint you?”

“But like something was… off about him. Right?”

“What?”

“You know how people say that one actor looks like a haunted Victorian doll?”

“…Yeah.”

“He kind of looks like that but— what’s older than the Victorian era?”

“I don’t know? The Dark Ages?” You suggested, looking at him with a raised eyebrow as you could only imagine where the hell this conversation was going.

“Yeah!” Your friend’s eyes lit up mischievously. “He looks like a possessed doll from the Dark Ages that’s had like five unsuccessful exorcisms done on him.”

“Oh my god Jeno.”

“Oh come on, you can’t say I’m wrong!”

“I can say that this is an extremely unprofessional thing to be saying about a client.”

“Oh look at you Ms. Professional Paralegal who isn’t disagreeing with me,” he snickered. “Anyway, you seem to have good rapport with him.”

“What do you mean?” You could feel your back stiffen with alarm. How long was Jeno standing there in the lobby watching you and Jaemin? Had you done anything that belied the true nature of your relationship? If you did then Somi would have seen it too. God, you did not need to be the next topic of office gossip.

“Ms. Haseul let you have that client meeting on your own. Both she and the client must trust you lots. Congrats.”

Immediately, your shoulders relaxed, “Oh, thanks. Yeah, it’s going well.”

Monthly after-work drinks with your coworkers—the one you actually liked—had become part of your routine, one that you looked forward to. Almost as much as you looked forward to the myriad of ways Jaemin insisted you “made up” the missing time that you “owed him.” This time, he was preemptively making up the forfeited time, as he had spent the night before and was now staying the morning of.

Somewhere between starting your coffee maker and putting the last dish from breakfast away in the sink, you had been pinned between Jaemin and said sink, a warning not to mess up your work clothes breathed out in the narrowing space between your mouths. Your Hades hummed out his acknowledgement against your lips, kissing you so delicately your eyes nearly rolled out of your head. Of course he had to listen to you this time.

You pulled back from kissing Jaemin as you were about to make something between a quip and a complaint when you heard a click from your front door.

“Y/N!” A familiar voice called out for you.

It all happened too quickly for you to attempt to do anything other than stare in horror at the scene unfolding before you. Lee Jeno stepped through your front door, turning around to close and lock it behind him. He was dressed for work in navy blue slacks and a light blue button up, looking down at his phone as he walked towards the kitchen. In your periphery, Jaemin looked between you and your friend with an eyebrow raised, not moving, but you couldn’t answer his unspoken question. It felt like you were outside your own body, watching a car crash about to happen and you couldn’t look away.

“I’m here! Ooh, something smells good, is that—” his words were cut short when he finally looked up from his screen just shy of the threshold to the kitchen, where you were frozen in place. Your rather lascivious place between Jaemin and the counter.

It took him an entire second to compute what was happening in front of him. Then he let out a yelp, which made you let out one of your own, a little less grating in pitch, but no less distressed. Your body was finally unpetrified, and you rushed to stand between your friend and your Hades.

“Jeno!” Your voice was half chastising and half bewildered. “What the hell are you doing in my apartment?”

“You told me where your spare key is, said I could use it any time!” His voice was still raised and pitched up in surprise.

“I figured that’s how you got in; I’m asking why the hell you’re in my apartment right now!”

“To pick you up?” He jangled his keys that were in his hand, his car fob being on the key ring, “I’m DD for tonight.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose, “No, Jeno, I'm DD tonight.”

“No, I'm DD.”

“I am.”

“I’m— Wait this isn’t important, that’s Mr. Na!” He pointed behind you accusingly.

With a very visible grimace, you turned to looked behind you. Jaemin was leaning against your kitchen counter, hands resting on the edge on either side of him. With the focus now on him, he lifted one in a casual greeting, “Good morning, Jeno. It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot of good things, from Y/N.”

“Jeno, this is Na Jaemin. I’m seeing him,” you jumped in to do introductions, well aware that your voice was noticeably tight and tense. “Jaemin, this is Lee Jeno, my best friend since… it feels like forever at this point I guess.”

While your friend’s features did soften a little at how you had described him, when he had to reciprocate your Hades’ offer of goodwill, he turned suspicious again.

“Nice to meet you... uh, yeah, nice to meet you.” Jeno tersely nodded at Jaemin once before his eyes went back to you, serious. He wanted to talk. And clearly, you had a lot to talk about.

“Well, time to go to work,” you announced. “Uhm, let me grab my shoes and my phone, then I’ll be ready to go, Jeno. You don’t mind carpooling since you’re already here, right?”

“Of course not.”

Your Hades spoke up again then, “My tie is in your room, Y/N.”

The two of you had to shuffle by Jeno on your way out of the kitchen and into your bedroom. In your room, you groaned as you rooted through your closet for a pair of shoes.

“I am so sorry, Jaemin,” you whispered as you slipped on your shoes. “I had no clue he was going to come here this morning. I wanted the two of you to meet so differently.”

“It’s okay, angel,” Jaemin reassured you quietly as he tied his tie in your full-length mirror. “You said he’s your best friend, and that you and he have been able to talk through everything before. I think the two of you have got this. One lowly god isn’t going to come between the Terrible Two.”

You’d finished putting your shoes on and slipped your arms around his waist to watch him do the final adjustments to the black silk tie.

“You really believe that?” You murmured.

“I do,” he patted your hands. “I still need to get a tie clip. Now go, you can’t keep him waiting or he’s going to think we’re doing something more scandalous in here than what he walked in on.”

You rolled your eyes and let him go, knowing that unfortunately he was kind of right. As you went to walk away towards your door, Jaemin caught you by the hand, lifting said hand up so he could press a delicate, cool kiss to your fingers before finally letting you depart.

“Have a good day, Y/N. I love you.”

“I love you too, Jaemin.”

You grabbed a purse by the door of your bedroom and braced yourself for what was waiting on the other side.

Jeno was by the front door, arms crossed over his chest. He narrowed his eyes as he appraised that you were alone, “Where’s Mr. Na?”

“He’s not ready to go yet, he’ll lock up on his way out,” you told him.

And thus began your lying, your carefully chosen words to make Jeno come to certain conclusions, your bending of the truth, your ‘well it’s technically true’s. Truthfully, Jaemin would make sure your apartment was locked from the inside before disappearing from here and appearing wherever he needed to be with his god powers.

“He has a set of keys.” Jeno spat out as he opened your front door for you.

Your tone was resigned as you started towards the stairs, “Is there a question in there, Jeno?”

There were a silent few seconds as he mulled it over, then sighed, his voice much less harsh, “No, that was me being bitchy. Sorry.”

“Thanks.” The two of you began the descent to the ground floor as you continued, “And I’m sorry too. Like... really sorry. I know that must have been a lot to walk in on, you have every right to be shocked and hurt.”

“Right. Thanks, Y/N.” And you finally got a Lee Jeno smile again. It was only a small one, and it passed you by far too quick as he opened your car door for you to get in. But you saw your friend’s delightful little eye smile again, and it made you think that maybe, hopefully, Jaemin was right.

Jeno pulled away from the curb, and you kept talking.

“I also know that I haven’t been forthcoming at all about what’s been happening in my life, about who I’ve been seeing.”

“About Mr. Na,” Jeno’s words were blunt but there was no malice to them.

“Yes, about Jaemin,” you confirmed. “I’m sorry about that too. Please, please know before like anything else that we were dating for a while before he was ever a client. Those two things happened separate of each other.”

“Oh.” Your friend’s previously white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel softened. “That’s... better.”

“Like, I know that I’m being kind of stupid, but I’m not that stupid.”

“You said it, not me.”

“I want to talk about this with you more, but I really don’t think now, driving to work, is going to be able to provide us with the time nor the ability to process it. Can we get together some other time?”

“Good to see all the money you spent on that therapist after your last ex paid off,” he snickered.

“Hey, I’m trying to be an adult here!” You protested indignantly.

“No, no, it’s good,” he attempted to reassure you through poorly-suppressed chuckles. “Let’s see if we can pencil in our emotional friendship discussion re: your love life for 1:00 p.m. tomorrow?”

“I’ll have to check my calendar once we get into the office,” you rolled your eyes. Despite the fact that he was teasing you, you welcomed the light jesting, knowing that meant he wasn’t too upset at you in that moment. And he was legitimately trying to follow through on your offer of planning to sit down and discuss your issues with him, albeit with some jabs at you of course.

“Hey, since it’s about you fucking a client, do you think we can call it a business lunch and use the firm credit card?”

With the mood now officially lightened you joked, “Yeah, I’ll put that on Ms. Haseul’s expense sheet for the week and see how that goes down with Billing.”

“Shotaro would get a kick out of it at least.”

Your apartment was quiet and dark when you got home. Jaemin hadn’t arrived yet. Pushing down your disappointment, you changed into pajamas before going to your kitchen to browse for something to make for dinner. If Jaemin wasn’t here yet, then he probably wasn’t planning on whisking you to the Underworld tonight. Fine by you, that made getting to work in the morning easier. The first night you’d spent with him in Hades had been the perfect start to your romance and you definitely didn’t regret it, but the next morning was something straight out of a rom-com.

It was difficult for your phone alarm to go off on time when time zones didn’t really exist in the literal Underworld. So you ran into work exactly on time with unwashed hair, followed around the office all morning by nosy comments from Jeno and Yangyang about that and the blouse that you were tucking into your dress pants as you were stepping off the elevator— which Jaemin had to magically poof you into, having no time to take public transport. Oh and the embarrassingly obvious love bites on your neck that you couldn’t cover up in your haste to get ready; a combination of no time to apply makeup, and carelessly choosing a top whose neckline was cut lower than the marks.

The memory made you shake your head fondly now, months later, as you opened your fridge doors. You’d barely done so when a familiar cool breath blew over the back of your neck and shell of your ear.

“Jaemin!” You exclaimed, immediately closing the fridge again then whipping around to face the god. He had a mischievous smirk already playing on his lips. “It’s been a while since you’ve snuck up on me like that. You must be in a good mood.”

“Yes, I am,” he confirmed.

You cocked your head to the side, “And why is that?”

“Because...” he took a step forward, and you instinctually took one back, quickly pinned against one of the doors. His hips pressed against yours, holding you there as his lips found yours, then your jaw, then your throat. You hummed as he continued pressing kisses along your skin, looping your arms around his neck, your search for food entirely forgotten. His hands on your waist only drew you even closer—if that was possible—fingertips brushing under the hem of your t-shirt and leaving goosebumps along your skin.

Your Hades finally detached his mouth from where he’d been sucking and nipping a mark on your collarbone, “I’m going to take you somewhere.”

“Huh?” You couldn’t help the stupefied noise that came from you.

He was standing up straight again, so close that your noses were almost touching, and you saw yourself reflected in his deep, dark irises. You looked ravished, your own pupils blown wide, mouth parted to let the deep breaths from your heaving chest out, the collar of your shirt askew to allow Jaemin access to more of your skin.

“I’m in a good mood because we’re going somewhere. Go get changed.”

You tipped your head back as you let out a groan, shaking yourself back to reality, “Why are you literally the worst?”

He chuckled as he stepped back, allowing you to push off the appliance, “Because I can be. Now go get changed. Doesn’t have to be too nice, just better than your jammies.”

With a final roll of your eyes, you left the kitchen to do as he requested. You reemerged in the living room in casual going-out clothes, “This good enough?”

“Perfect,” Jaemin offered you his hand, which you took without hesitation.

He gently spun you around, and a giggle tumbled from your mouth as you were spun right into his arms, your back to his chest. You closed your eyes on instinct as he swayed the two of you to a non-existent melody, and you drank in the sultry notes of cedar, cinnamon, and blood orange that surrounded you. His hair tickled your cheek as he started peppering light ghosts of kisses to your skin.

“Alright, you tease, come on. You said we’re going somewhere,” you lightly elbowed whatever part of him was by your arm. His rib, maybe, or that could’ve been his arm. From where you were all wrapped up in him, you couldn’t tell where you ended and he started. And despite your words of complaint, you hadn’t yet opened your eyes or even attempted to wrangle yourself from his grasp.

“I know, we’re here.”

Curiosity won out and you squinted an eye open. Holy shit, this definitely wasn’t your apartment. With wide eyes, you looked around the huge living room Jaemin had brought you to. Plush furniture, floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall windows, large dining area that connected to a kitchen that was clearly built for entertaining. The entire place had an upscale mid-century modern feel to it, and you found your eyes drawn back to the huge windows.

“Where are we?” You questioned, still taking it all in.

“My place,” Jaemin said casually, and you could feel him shrug from where he was holding you.

“This isn’t the Underworld.”

“My new place on Earth. I just got it this week.” He took one of your hands to guide you over to the windows, “Come on, look at the view.”

Spread out below you was the entire city, all twinkling lights. If you unfocused your eyes they could almost be mistaken for stars in the night sky. Your Hades stood just behind you to begin pointing out landmarks, “There’s downtown, that’s the museum you took me to, your apartment should be over that way, and there’s the river way over there.”

“It’s amazing but… why did you get it?” You questioned him, turning away from the view to look him in the eye. He’d never expressed any interest in living on Earth whatsoever, any want to get a home here.

Jaemin walked back a couple steps to lean against the arm of one of the couches, bringing you with him by your hands, “Since Johnny and I have been doing more business up here, it’s good to have a home to keep up appearances.”

“And just how many business clients are you planning on inviting back to your place, Jaemin?” You raised an eyebrow, tone expressing your immediate disbelief.

He grinned up at you in your position standing between his legs, “You caught me. Just one, you.”

“I meant, why now?” You pushed on in the conversation, not so easily distracted. “Why get a place on Earth this week?”

“Jeno.”

“You got a penthouse for Jeno? How romantic, I’ll let him know.”

Your Hades let out a soft laugh at that, looking down at your hands that he was holding, his fingertips taking a moment to adjust your rings that were slightly askew. “The entire situation that happened with him really made me think about you, and about who I am to you. And I want to be more for you than I am.”

You frowned at his words, taking back one hand to cup his cheek and have him look up at you, “What do you think you are to me?”

“I’m a secret.”

“Oh, Jaemin…” You felt your heart breaking at the way he said it. Not in a fun, flirty way, but despondent, isolated. Before you could move to say more, hold him, do anything, he spoke again.

“That’s not passing any sort of judgement on you, angel,” he assured you, squeezing the hand he had in his. “I know the secrecy comes solely from who and what I am. I know there are some things that we'll never really be able to tell everyone. And I don’t think you’ll ever be able to fully understand how much I love and adore you for keeping that between us.”

You pressed a kiss to his forehead, afraid that if you tried to speak in that moment, you’d cry.

“But I still want to be someone that you can introduce to your friends, to your family. Someone that you don’t have to agonize over keeping secret from them. I want you to get to have at least some of that, and I want to do as much as I can to help. I figured having my own place on Earth wasn’t a bad start.”

“Oh… I understand,” you held his face between both your hands, taking a step closer to narrow the distance between you two. He now had to crane his neck up to look at you. Clearing your throat and blinking a couple tears away, you smirked down at your Hades, “You want to be shown off.”

“Maybe a little,” he admitted, not a hint of bashfulness in him despite the coy words.

“Gladly. Starting with a dinner party here I think.”

“I’ll cook.”

“Penthouse and you cook? Careful, it’ll turn from an honest meet-the-boyfriend into shameless bragging.”

His hands that had previously been resting in his lap now gripped the sides of your thighs, “Oh, we both know you’re as shameless as I am.”

“Maybe so. But we’re only inviting friends of mine, no coworkers other than Jeno,” you declared. “I may be shameless, but I’m not an idiot. Still need to figure out the work part.”

“Of course,” he acquiesced with a nod of his head. Apparently thinking that the conversation was over, he pulled you fully flush to him, mouth attaching to your collarbone. Seemed he wanted to finish what he’d started in your kitchen earlier.

But you couldn’t yet let yourself sink into the pleasure of your Hades’ lips, your mind was still ruminating on the previous issue, “And let me know if you have any bright ideas, by the way. It’s your fault I’m in this mess, after all.”

Jaemin pulled back from where he’d been kissing down your sternum, about to get to the neckline of your top, “I offered to work with another attorney, but you insisted we stick with you and Ms. Haseul.”

“You picked Kim & Moon in the first place.”

“I concede, my apologies,” he sighed, entirely removing his hands from you for a moment. “And I mean it.”

“Mhm.” Satisfied with his answer, you grabbed his shoulders and crashed your lips to his.

“But isn’t it just a little fun?” He teased, giving your bottom lip a playful nip. “Knowing that you’re—gasp—seeing a client? Sneaking around?”

You groaned at the interruption, attempting to tug his suit jacket off, talk, and kiss him all at once. “I was seeing you—” kiss “before you—” kiss “were—” kiss “a client.” Kiss. “But yes, maybe a little.”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Suh,” you greeted the goddess brightly as you crossed the room to sit across the conference table from him. “Just you today?”

The other half of Olympus Investments had called pretty much as soon as the firm had opened that morning, requesting a meeting with you as soon as you were available, and you did happen to be able accommodate him that afternoon.

“Jaemin doesn’t know I’m here.” He shifted forward in his chair, looking you in the eye so intensely you couldn’t hold the eye contact for long.

You were a little confused as you laid out your materials in front of you, “Okay... Well, what did you wish to speak with me about? Somi emphasized that this was an urgent matter. Was there something the matter with the documents I sent for your review yesterday?”

“I am so sorry, Y/N...”

Your eyebrows shot up at his words, the forlorn tone he said them in, and at the fact that this was the first time Mr. Suh had addressed you by your first name. “For what, sir?”

“That Jaemin’s done this to you.”

“I don’t understand. What has Mr. Na done?”

“Taken your soul.”

His words made you immediately sputter out, “What are you talking about? I’m sorry, I don't underst—”

“Dinner the other night wasn’t the first time you two have met,” the goddess in front of you declared, gaze piercing you as he changed from despondent to stern. “What did you ask for, Y/N? What was worth your soul?”

“I didn’t sell Jaemin my soul!” You sighed in exasperation, fully dropping all pretenses now. “All he wanted was for me to spend some time with him.”

“And what did you want?”

“A job.”

“That’s it?”

“Yes, that’s all I asked for.”

“I’m sorry about all this, Y/N. All the jewelry... I get worried.” His gaze was still appraising you, and you could tell that you didn’t quite have him convinced.

“Oh,” you twisted the plain silver band you’d first been given around on your finger nervously. “I mean, he did give me all this too, but I didn’t ask for it.”

“Why would he...” Mr. Suh’s eyes fell to the pomegranate jewel sitting below the hollow of your throat. “Ahh... I get it.”

“Get what?” You asked cautiously, now self-consciously fidgeting with the pendant once again.

“That’s a lovely color.”

“Uhm, thank you. But I can tell you mean something else by that.”

“Ha,” he chuckled, leaning back in his seat but keeping his eyes on your necklace. “He’s courting you, isn’t he?”

“Uh that might’ve been what you called it in 300 BC or whenever, but now we call it dating.”

“No, honey. I may be… old-fashioned but I know the difference between dating and courting. Jaemin does too. Do you?”

“What?”

He nodded towards your necklace, “Ask him about the meaning of that color next time you see him.”

Your skin prickled uncomfortably; you didn’t like that Mr. Suh apparently knew more about your relationship than you did. “Did you have any actual business for me, Mr. Suh?”

“Oh, no. I’ll get out of your hair now. Sorry, hon.”

You stood up as he did, showing him out wordlessly to the lobby.

Walking into work some weeks later, you saw Jeno, Yangyang, Kun, and Sicheng gathered around yours and Yangyang’s desks. Not too unusual of a sight, especially considering the matching coffee cups they all had.

“Good morning, boys,” you greeted the four of them brightly, setting all your stuff down on your desk.

When you looked up from where your fond gaze had lingered over your keys, the shiny new one to Jaemin’s place on Earth there, you were met with silence.

“What?”

“Here, uhm, it was my turn to buy coffee this week,” Yangyang handed you a cup from the shop down the street from the firm.

You took it, a little alarmed that he wasn’t doing his usual complaining about being “forced” to buy coffee for “the bourgeois” (Kun and Sicheng) when they could definitely afford it and truly he was just being “exploited” (despite the five of you all rotating out who bought coffee for the group once a week).

“Uh, thanks,” you took a sip, not liking his wide eyes, Kun’s pained ones, Sicheng’s inquisitive gaze, and Jeno’s knowing look that usually meant the two of you needed to talk ASAP. “Okay, what, you guys?”

“Ms. Haseul wants to see you,” Yangyang was still speaking.

“Okay…”

That wasn’t unusual, you were her paralegal, you frequently were called into her office by yourself to have discussions and they never garnered reactions like this from your coworkers.

Kun rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly, calmly explaining, “She told Yangyang to have you come into her office once you arrived regarding an issue on the Olympus Investments file. Said to make sure you knew it was urgent and severe.”

Your grip tightened on your coffee cup. Jeno’s jaw clenched as he gave you a very much ‘I told you so’ look.

“Then why the fuck did you guys make me play 20 questions with you if it’s that fucking serious? God, I have to go see her!” You set your cup down, briefly checking the phones to see if she was on a landline call. Her quick dial button wasn’t lit up, meaning that she wasn’t, and you grabbed a notepad and pen just in case. Maybe this was about something solely work-related, and not about you seeing a client and breaking company policy. One could only hope.

After speed-walking down the hall, you stopped outside her door to listen for a moment for any sign that she was on the phone or had someone else in her office. It was quiet, and you took another moment to inhale deeply through your nose, then exhale, composing yourself. Rapping your knuckles on her door, you waited for her reply.

“Come in.”

You opened the door, bowing your head respectfully, “Good morning, Ms. Haseul. Yangyang told me you wanted to see me regarding Olympus Investments.”

“Yes, sit, Y/L/N,” she gestured to one of the chairs across her desk from her.

You could feel her sharp eyes on you as you did so.

“I’m going to get straight to the point. Out of gratitude for the work you’ve done in your time here, I’m going to ask you only once and I of course expect the truth. Are you romantically involved with Mr. Na Jaemin?”

To your credit, your jaw didn’t drop. Part of you was expecting this, of course. You breathed in, taking a moment to think about how to phrase your response, “Yes, Ms. Haseul.”

She sighed, taking her glasses off and setting them on her desk. As your boss rubbed her brow and remained quiet, you felt anxiety creeping up through your veins.

Figuring that you were as good as fired anyway, you at least wanted to know how long you’d been made for, when and where you went wrong. “Ma’am? May I ask when— How long you’ve known?”

“Y/L/N…” She clicked her tongue and leaned back in her chair. “I’ve known the whole time. And I know you’ve been seeing him since before he became a client of ours as well.”

“I’m so sor—”

Your boss cut you off with a wave of her hand, “Don’t apologize, please. Aside from not telling me the next business day as you should have, you’ve been incredibly professional about this the entire time. Honestly, nothing about your behavior or work product is how I know.”

“Then how?” You asked, brows furrowing together.

“The first client dinner we had with Mr. Suh and Mr. Na. When we went to greet them, I caught a whiff of Mr. Na’s cologne, and it was remarkably familiar to me. Because you’d come in to the office in the mornings frequently smelling like it before that dinner.”

“Please don’t take this the wrong way but… why wait until now to address it?”

“Would you believe me if I said that I didn’t know how to bring it up?”

You were nearly speechless. It was hard to imagine Ms. Haseul not knowing what to do.

“I don’t… I don’t know what to say.”

“Anyway, like I said, you’ve been the model of professionalism; your client relations—in the office—have been impeccable, and your work product is the same high quality I expect to see from my employees. We of course need to address that you did not inform me of this conflict the next business day as is firm policy, but I see no reason to take any further action than that nor remove you as case manager for Olympus Investments.”

“Ma’am?” Now your jaw was on the floor, your eyes practically bugging out of your head.

“Both Mr. Na and Mr. Suh report being incredibly satisfied with your work. Therefore, as long as that continues then I am fine with having you stay on as their case manager, with your conflict of interest being properly noted in the file, of course. But as soon as any issues arise or you feel as though your conflict is affecting your ability to do your job, you will report that to me. Do you understand, Y/L/N?”

“Of course, Ms. Haseul,” you bowed your head as deeply as you could from your seat. “Thank you so much.”

“You’re dismissed, Y/L/N.”

“Right. Thank you again, Ms. Haseul,” you leapt to your feet, bowing once more now that you were standing before exiting her office.

Walking back out to where your desk was, the guys were exactly where you left them, clearly pretending to be doing anything else other than waiting to see if you got fired. Jeno, however, immediately zeroed his focus in on you as you approached them, the others soon joining suit to varying degrees of shamelessness.

You gave them two covert middle fingers down by your sides, “Fuck you guys, I still work here.”

“Oh thank god,” Jeno breathed out as you fully entered the pod of desks, pulling you into a hug.

“Hell yeah!” Yangyang jumped to his feet to join in, squeezing the two of you with reckless abandon. “The Atrocious Trio lives on!”

“Did you just invite yourself into our friendship, Yangyang?” You asked incredulously as Jeno shoved him out of the group hug.

You had just finished relaying the news to Jaemin that night—that Ms. Haseul knew, and had known the whole time, about your relationship—over dinner at his place on Earth. He claimed he wanted to test out some recipes before you had your meet-the-boyfriend dinner with your friends there.

Truly, it was a relief to have this weight off your chest, but that didn’t make it any less mortifying to relive possibly the most nerve-wracking meeting of your career yet. If you never had to feel like that again for the rest of your life, it would be too soon.

“Your boss is quite astute, huh,” Jaemin commented as he picked up your empty plate to start cleaning up after dinner, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“Real bloodhound, that one,” you muttered, standing up as well to grab the drained wine glasses. “And I can see that smirk, Jaemin.”

“Damn,” he clicked his tongue as he began washing the dishes, fully letting his dashing grin overtake his features. “Nothing gets past you either, angel.”

“I’d say that’s why they hired me but—” you gestured at him vaguely.

“That’s why they keep you around, even after such a scandal.”

“You are so—” You cut yourself off with a sigh, feeling how big the smile was on your face as you came to settle in beside him, dish towel in hand, knowing that your words had no punch when paired with how adoringly you were looking at him.

You dutifully dried each dish he handed you until the kitchen was cleaned up. The two of you were in a comfortable quiet, your Hades humming softly as he finished washing up, then took the towel from you and dried off his hands. With your own hands free, your fingers habitually found the pomegranate red gem hanging from your neck. Johnny’s words bounced around in your head. You hadn’t brought it up to Jaemin after, wanting to mull it over with yourself for a bit longer first. Wait until you were in the right headspace to address what the hell that conversation was even about.

“Guess that means we’ll be having more guests then?”

“Huh?” You asked lamely, not following Jaemin’s sudden question at all.

“For dinner,” your Hades clarified, walking towards the bedroom, and you followed him down the hall as he kept speaking. “You didn’t want to invite any coworkers other than Jeno before. But since Ms. Jo told you she knows, you’ll be inviting coworkers, right?”

“Oh. Uh, I guess. Maybe the ones I get drinks with,” you answered absentmindedly. “Or just the team. I don’t know.”

“Think about it, angel,” Jaemin squeezed your hand briefly before dropping it and moving over to the dresser to grab lounge clothes. “Guess I should tell Johnny, then. Funny, goddess of love is the only one who doesn’t know.”

But you most definitely weren’t thinking about the guest list for some dinner as you two did your separate nighttime routines. Your mind felt like it was in another galaxy, wrapped up in flashes of dazzling obsidian black and pomegranate red, dancing in bergamot, cedar wood, and cinnamon sticks. Courting. You’d done your obligatory dictionary reading the same day as your meeting with Johnny: to have a romantic relationship with someone one hopes to marry. Not engagement, not dating, something in between, somehow less and more.

Your eyes got caught on the necklace again in the bathroom mirror, finishing up at your sink at the dual vanity.

In the bedroom, Jaemin was sitting up against the headboard, legs crossed at the ankle and the wall sconce on his side turned on to illuminate the book he was reading—a collection of Edgar Allan Poe’s short stories, borrowed from you.

“Jaemin,” you called out for him quietly, leaning in the threshold of the bathroom.

“Yes?” He looked up at you attentively.

You nodded to the book in his lap, “Which one are you on?”

“‘MS. Found in a Bottle.’” Your Hades patted the spot beside him, “You want me to read for you, angel?”

“In a second.” You reached for your pendant. “Gems have meanings sometimes, right? In different cultures. Other than just being an expensive status symbol.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Yes. Why?”

“What about this one? The necklace you gave me.” You held it up, watching the dark red stone gleam as it caught the light.

He tucked his bookmark into the tome and fully put it aside on the nightstand, “Johnny’s spoken with you.”

“He came to the firm the other day freaking out thinking you’d taken my soul in exchange for riches,” you admitted, feeling a little guilty. “Sorry I didn’t uh, tell you before.”

“It’s okay. Sounds like you two had an interesting conversation.”

“Yeah. I told him that I didn’t sell you my soul for the jewelry, but he didn’t seem to believe me until he saw this one. Said to ask you about the color.”

Jaemin chuckled, “Mm, of course he did. The ego.”

You walked across the bedroom, stopping by his side of the bed. Tilting your head inquisitively, you asked, “Are you going to explain or just keep making cryptic statements, Jaemin?”

“Third option: Cryptic question. What color do you think it is, Y/N?”

“To me... it looks like fresh pomegranate seeds. Pomegranate red.”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking when I gave it to you,” your Hades nodded, a tender smile overtaking his more cynical one from when he was talking about his business partner. “The meaning that Johnny wanted you to ask about. According to one version of a myth, the first pomegranate tree came about from Aphrodite’s mourning of the death of a lover. Pomegranate juice came to symbolize love.”

“I already know that you love me, Jaemin,” you told him frankly, taking a step closer to the bed.

“Well good, something would be very, very wrong with me if you didn’t.”

“And I also know that we’re going in circles around the point right now.” Another step.

“We are.”

“He specifically used the word courting.” Another step. You were now directly beside him, at his nightstand, casting a shadow over his face.

Jaemin looked absolutely delighted to be cornered, both in conversation and literally. He always enjoyed your dialogues like this, as did you, or else you wouldn’t participate. The pushing and pulling, the back and forth, it was the nature of you and your Hades, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Because at the end of it, everything was always out on the table, laid bare, open and honest.

“You got me, angel,” he held his hands up in defeat. “I’m all yours, now and for eternity, if you’ll have me. And I don’t need an answer about eternity right now of course, but will you let me start trying to convince you?”

You wound the necklace chain around your knuckles thoughtfully, “I want you to tell me something, Jaemin, before I answer you.”

“An answer for an answer.” He was looking up at you with a familiar fond, tender smile, “Of course, angel, anything.”

There was something itching at the back of your mind, that never quite made sense to you, as you came to know your Hades better over all this time, fell in love with him, something that just seemed… out of place. Something he said that just hasn’t sat right every time you thought of it.

“Why did you want to spend time with me in the first place? Way back, the night we met, when you came to me to make our deal, I asked you why you would give me the job for just hanging out with you. Do you remember what you told me?”

“I remember everything about that night,” he admitted freely. “I told you I was tired of spending time with dead people.”

“And that was a lie,” you stated simply, softly, no anger or hurt in your words. Instead, there was a kind commiseration underlying them.

“Yes.”

“So, why did you want my time?”

“I was lonely.”

And you reached in front of you to grab your Hades’ hand, your lonely-no-more god, and you squeezed it tight between both of yours. “I owe you an answer now. Yes.”

Jaemin tugged you closer, making you momentarily lose your balance and fall forward onto his chest, your mouths just centimeters apart. Obsidian black was all that you could see, his eyes looking at you with nothing short of absolute devotion, divine worship, insatiable hunger. You pushed back that obstinate lock of jet black hair from his forehead before twisting your fingers in the strands at the back of his head and pulling his lips to yours. In the split second before your eyes fluttered shut, they caught the glint of a pomegranate red gem on his ear.

You were sat beneath the tree of golden fruit with your shadow man, the fruit you had picked still in your hands. With no hesitation, you dug your thumbs into the golden outer husk, splitting it in half. Inside were hundreds of bright red seeds, ripe, plump, glistening like rubies. Your mouth watered. Looking to your shadow man for reassurance, you were immediately given it.

You set one half down on your lap to dig into the other with your fingers. Bringing the first couple seeds you could get out up to your mouth, your tastebuds were immediately met with the ambrosial, saccharine, tart juice. They burst in your mouth, coating your tongue and dripping down the back of your throat. You went back in for more, eating handful after handful of the fruit’s plentiful seeds. Soon that half was emptied, and you grabbed the other that had been sitting in your lap.

You wanted more. Never had you ever wanted for something more in your life. Your fingers and hands were dripping red, and you could feel beads of the scarlet nectar running down your chin to your neck and down your sternum before disappearing into your top. But you still wanted more, wanted everything the fruit could give to you.

When you had finally finished the other half, you felt your want satiated. Your skin was sticky, and the white dress you were wearing had swaths of crimson red stains all over it. And your shadow man was still there beside you, and he finally touched you. His arm wrapped around your shoulders, encouraging you to lean against him, resting your head on his chest and letting out a sigh of relief.

His name tumbled from your lips then, something you’d always known. You’d always known him. An epiphany, a rite, a blessing, a hymn, a miracle, a prayer.

“Jaemin.”

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SUNGHOON BF TEXTS

♡ ｡ﾟ idol!sunghoon x idol!fem reader

genre : fluff, comedy ( want more check pt.2 )

warnings : cursing and that literally it i think (lmk if there’s more)

note: my first time doing these text thingys 😭 that’s crazyy anyways hi