#i wanna smash this damn laptop

[nebulaofchaosandwoe]

i should be be sleeping i should be sleeping i should be sleeping i should've gone to bed i should be asleep by now im sleepy im freaking out i need to finish my homework i won't have time for it tomorrow because i have more homework i will have to wake up early it's weekend i shouldn't have to wake up early i shouldn't have to worry about homework i shouldn't have to worry about my sleep on a fucking weekend i shouldn't have to worry sleeping at all i'm freaking out i'm freaking out aaaaa

[oatmealthighs]

𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐡 | 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

A simple proposal to play Smash turns into something more devious.

contents: nsfw. 18+, minors DNI. afab!reader, gojo lowkey (highkey) got a god complex, oral (fem & male receiving), penetration. illustration belongs to @momoya348 on twt!

“Wanna play smash?”

“Sure, after I finish this.” Gojo motioned his head towards his laptop, which wobbled unsteadily in its place atop your ass. The two of you were in a peculiar position: you were both on his bed, his upper back against the pillows he had fluffed nicely against his headboard. You were laying on top of him, your upper body resting in between his long, spread legs and your pelvis resting against his stomach.

A clean 69, if you will.

“Alriiight,” you sighed heavily, thumbs jerking the control sticks to your Nintendo switch controller tiredly. you looked at the tv with a bored look, not even phased by the flashing lights and eye-strains that the bright screen gave off.

Although Gojo was busying himself with a last-minute essay for his composition theory class, he always took breaks in between each sentence to grip the backs of your thighs, the pads of his soft fingers massaging the tender skin of the insides of your legs. It seemed as if he would get closer to the middle of your legs with each stroke, a thumb brushing dangerously at your groin before quickly pulling away and setting his hands back on his keyboard.

Unbeknownst to you, he was barely getting anything done, his crystal eyes unable to look anywhere but at your clothed pussy for the past fifteen minutes. You only being clad in one of his stretched T-shirts and your favorite-colored panties when you crawled into his lap was worse than salacious, and he was sure you were doing this on purpose. He noticed the way you’d roll your hips whenever you’d win a round, or how the goosebumps against your skin would protrude every time he’d lay a finger on you.

“Are you winning, sweetheart?” Gojo asked curiously, moving his laptop from on top of you to his crowded nightstand, pushing some things toward (and over) the ledge in the process.

You hummed a yes in response, eyes trained on your character’s movements as your brows were furrowed in concentration. The white-haired man let out a breathy chuckle, large hands engulfing your thighs once again and digging playfully into your sensitive skin. You seemed to relax at his touch, a small curl playing at the end of his lips as his long fingers slowly skated north.

You decided to not think much of it-- maybe he’d just play with your ass like he always did when he was bored. You purse your lips, frown deepening as you fell and lost a life. “Damn,” you cursed, watching your character respawn at the top. “My dumbass fell.”

“Oh? You better win,” Gojo reprimanded lightheartedly, his thumb gently brushing the outside lip of your dressed pussy, making your breath hitch. “don’t disappoint me, my dear.”

“‘Course not, do you know who I am?” You bantered, trying to overlook the rising heat in between your legs and fight your instinct to close them. However, your arousal was more than evident, your slick already beginning to soak a small spot into the cotton fabric of your undergarments. Gojo smirked cheekily, tongue dragging over his top lip hungrily as his thumb moved again. He applied more pressure, the pad grazing your moist slit teasingly as his other hand gripped one of your cheeks, pads digging into your flesh.

You looked back at him with a warning look, but he knew it held no weight, your expression clearly wavering. He responded with a cheeky grin, pearly whites showing as he questioned, “What?”

You chewed on your bottom lip, your grip on the controller beginning to slip as a result of hands becoming clammy. Your character fell again, resulting in you losing the match and sending you to the results screen, but you didn’t care, instead instinctively pushing your ass back to meet Gojo’s now still thumb. He loved making you work for it, no matter how subtle the matter was.

He didn’t let you play with yourself for too long. “Hey, let’s play a game,” he broke the lust-filled tension, head tilting playfully as he looked at the T.V. screen. You craned your head over your shoulder, looking at his cyan irises through his wispy white bangs with questioning eyes.

“You don’t wanna play Smash?”

“It’s something related to that.”

“... I’m listening.”

He chewed at his lip, a furtive expression painting his features as he cut his eyes back to your crotch. He took the courtesy of rolling his thumb compassionately over your neglected clit, making you drop your head with a shaky sigh. You shuddered as he rubbed tight, slow circles around your bud, him relishing the small mewls you let slip through your gritted teeth.

“Gojo...” you breathed, eyebrows crinkled together as you rocked your hips harder, grasp on the controller turning into a death grip.

“This is how it will go,” he chirped as if nothing was happening, removing his hands from your lower body to grab your waist. With a simple pull, he tugged you upwards, your ass now brushing the tip of his nose, his cool breaths making your cunt twitch. “You’re gonna play the game while I make you cum. Sound fun?”

You blinked, weary eyes looking back at your boyfriend with perplexity, readying yourself to complain about how unfair this was. “Gojo-,”

“But, you have to win. Otherwise,” he blew a slow, chilled breath against your pussy, making you shiver and attempt to buck your legs closed, but to no avail. “there will be a punishment.”

“Punishment?” you echoed unsurely, looking at him from the corner of your eyes with a growing hunger. He glanced right back at you, half-lidded eyes making butterflies break from their cocoon in your stomach.

“Start the game.” He disregarded your question, instead handing out demands. It was simple and held no weight, but you moved with a purpose, selecting “random” and letting the game select a character for you. Palutena. Okay, you could make this work. You quickly chose a stage.

“3, 2, 1, GO!” The announcer boomed, and Gojo seemed to work on the same accord, his thumb hooking into the fabric and slipping your panties to the side with ease. He didn’t spare a second, his long, wet tongue gliding in between your slicked folds with a heavy lick.

“Hah!” You choked out a gasp, moist hands nearly losing grip on your controller almost instantly. Your hips bucked upwards, but he had beat you to it, strapping you down with his long arms as he enveloped your swollen clit with his pink lips. He smirked against your pussy, finding it hilarious that you thought he didn’t have you and your tactics figured out by now.

“Focus.” He growled, the bass in his voice sending intense vibrations throughout your entire body. He hummed huskily, frosty eyelashes fluttering closed at your saccharine taste along his tongue. “Damn, it should be a crime for you to taste this sweet.”

“Gojo, I— fuuuuck,” you sighed greatfully as the tip of his tongue flicked your bud wolfishly before pulling it in between his lips, swirling generous circles around your hardened bundle of nerves with a groan. You let out a lengthy moan of ecstasy when you felt a slender finger sink into your heat, probing at your insides with practiced movements. Gojo watched his finger repeatedly curl in and out of you, your essence coating his finger with no problem. The smacking sounds of your wetness made his dick twitch under you, but you were far too wrapped up in erotic euphoria to take note of it— which was okay. “I don’t think this is for me...”

“Tapping out already, gorgeous?” Gojo teased you with a smile against your dripping cunt, slipping a second finger inside of you without a hitch. You gasped at the burning stretch, but it soon faded into something more pleasurable, making the coil in your stomach already beginning to spiral and tighten. “I haven’t even fucked you with my tongue yet.”

You whimpered as a response, reluctantly guiding your character across the screen through lust-clouded eyes. You’ve already fucked up twice, if it happened again, you’d be fucked. Literally.

A sharp crack against your ass quickly brings you back to reality, making you yelp and squirm under Gojo’s deathgrip. “I asked you a question, [name]. You’d best answer me.”

“No! I can take it, please… keep going, shit!” You scolded yourself internally for being so desperate, but you knew it always winded up to you being in this same predicament; trembling under his soft touches and racy gestures. Gojo hummed in approval, curling his fingers in search of your special spot that he usually found within seconds. He proved you right, the pads of his fingers pressing against your spongy spot, warranting you to release a cry. You were beginning to regret your declaration of accepting this “challenge” in the first place, because you felt your orgasm steadily approaching, less than minutes away.

You didn’t even notice that you died and lost, opening your eyes to see you were back at the character selection menu. Your eyes widened in horror, and you began praying to the gods that Gojo hadn’t noticed, but who were you kidding? He never failed to pick up on the details, no matter how minor.

“Tsk, tsk,” he sighed, a mocking tone of disappointment present as he pulled away from your lips. You whined at the halt of his ministrations, attempting to rock your pussy against his face to get a rhythm back in swing, but to no avail. He nudged you off of him, standing to his feet with his arms crossed. His shirt rose up his waist, exposing his excessively-toned stomach and light happy trail wisping under the band of his sweatpants. His arousal made itself known, a thick erection straining at the baggy material of his sweats. “I’m disappointed, sweetheart. I didn’t even get to make you cum.”

You dropped your controller, the object making a loud clatter as it hit the wooden floor, but you didn’t quite care. You crawled towards your boyfriend who loomed over you with a let-down, yet teasing look, dainty hand reaching out to grab at his sweatpants. Before you could yank them down, he caught a grip on your wrist, tilting his head to the side. “Aht, aht, aht; do you really think you deserve to get stretched out by me when you can’t even play a simple game correctly?”

You pouted, straining your strength against his own while adjusting your position on the edge of the bed. You decided to settle on your haunches, looking up at your lover with pleading eyes. “Gojo, please, let me taste you.”

“Is this compensation? Trying to make me overlook your failure?” He lilted, voice dropping lower an octave as his eyelids began to lower with lust. You nodded, a hungry gleam in your wide eyes as you reached your free hand out to tug at his bottoms. He let you, also releasing your other hand and letting you do as you pleased. You didn’t bother to waste a moment, letting his pants drop to his ankles and only being left with his briefs constraining his thick length. Before you could go any further, Gojo cupped your chin, making you look back up at him with a squeeze of your cheeks. “Hey,” he breathed, perfect eyebrows pulling together in concentration as he stared down at you with a prurient intensity. You nodded, informing him you were listening with an attentive look. “You better not leave me dissatisfied, am I understood?” With that, he dipped his thumb into your mouth, pulling it slowly down your bottom lip. You nodded again, batting your lashes as you busy your fingers with freeing his dick from its restraints.

Gojo’s impeccable size never failed to impress; his girthiness was what you liked most about it, its thickness always stretching and rubbing your walls in all the ways you loved. His length wasn’t bad at all either, nothing excessive about it, and always was sure to get the job done. Your fingers brushed against his shaft caringly, admiring the thin veins that decorated it perfectly and the occasional freckle here and there. You glanced at his flushed tip, precum already beading there, and you flicked your tongue out to catch a taste.

Gojo’s breath hitched, quad muscles contracting for a quick second. You didn’t feel like playing around anymore, going for the kill and wrapping your lips around the head of his dick with a moan. He let out a lengthy sigh, running a hand through his soft hair as he swallowed. You took him in deeper with each suck, the sloppy sounds of your tongue running repeatedly across his length and the background music of Smash an odd combination. Gojo let out a deep groan at the feeling of his tip finally reaching near the back of your throat, the simple sound music to your ears and making you want to squeeze more reactions from him.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you bobbed your head at a mildly quick pace, the sounds your throat was emitting almost comical, but you didn’t care that much. You were too focused on making Gojo release in your mouth, wanting to taste his essence just as he did you a few minutes ago. Your pussy contracted around nothing as you thought about how he might fill you to the brim after this, ramming you into the bed like he hated you.

Gojo’s noises of pleasure were becoming more apparent, his gasps and sighs morphing into groans and grunts. “Fuck, that’s right, mhm. Suck it like you mean it.” You let out a mewl as you opened your watery eyes, staring up at him with blurry vision. You could make out the reddening tips of his ears and the developing flush spreading across his cheeks, his bangs beginning to cling to his moist forehead. His pupils were blown wide, and his vivid electric blue eyes seemed to be illuminating. Beautiful, you thought, but your admiration was short lived when you felt slender fingers gripping at your tresses. With a push, Gojo’s dick was sent to hit the back of your throat, making you widen your eyes as you let out an embarrassing gag. He retreated, slipping out of your mouth with a string of spit keeping his tip and your bottom lip connected. You let out a short cough, gasping for air as you blinked harshly.

“You okay?” He questioned, and you quickly gave him a yes, reaching back out for him. He shook his head, pushing your arm away before giving you a nudge to make you fall back onto his mattress. “No. I’ve had enough, I’m pleased. Your reward now, yeah?”

You let out a squeal of glee along with a nod as Gojo rolls you on your stomach, using both large hands to hook your hips and manually pull your ass up. You got the gist, making a curve in your spine and poking your ass out in the angle that he loves. He hummed, teeth pinching his bottom lip as a heavy hand palmed your ass, tightly gripping the flesh there. You yelped at the stinging sensation, fisting the sheets and leaning forward as if trying to get away from the fiery touch. Gojo clicked his tongue, soothing his engraved handprint with a gentle palm, the other hand busy playing with your clothed pussy. He furrowed his brows, annoyed with the barrier and kneeling to yank them down your thighs.

The string of arousal linking your underwear to your cunt made Gojo let out a breathy moan of excitement, frosty lashes fluttering at the sight of your slicked pussy. The way he had you dripping like a broken faucet was just fueling his already gigantic ego. He wasn’t planning on tasting you anymore tonight, but he couldn’t resist, using both hands to spread your cheeks and leaning in to lick you once more. He generously french-kissed your pussy, lovingly grazing over your swollen clit as his heavy eyelids fell closed. You twitched, mouth falling agape and letting out a keen at the feeling of his soft tongue against you once again. Your orgasm seemed to rise like nothing, this time boiling over. You didn’t dare warn him— knowing him, the asshole would pull away and leave you hanging. A white hot feeling burst in your stomach and spread throughout your limbs, your pussy pulsating and your back arching deeper than it’s ever had. You let out a cry as you felt your release hit you like a wave, thighs trembling and Gojo letting out a hum of approval, clearly not dissatisfied with you cumming in his mouth.

“Sweetheart, why didn’t you tell me you were cumming? Are we keeping secrets now?” He queried in, standing up to his feet and using his thumb to scrape any excess slick from his chin up onto his tongue. You looked back at him in amazement, eyes widening at his lewd behavior. You narrowed your eyes, brows furrowing defensively at his comment. “Well, if I did tell you, you’d just ruin it for me.”

A playful smack to your sensitive cunt shut you up, making you turn away and stuff your face in the covers with a gasp. You said something into the sheets, immediately being ruled intelligible since you were muffled. “What was that, gorgeous?” He teased, gently massaging your ass as he teasingly slid his shaft against your soaked folds. He hissed, eyebrows pushing together at the feeling of your warm pussy constantly rubbing at him. As much as he wanted to slip deep inside you and fuck you into his mattress as if he’d never see you again, he refrained, his ego not letting him submit to anyone, including you.

“Just fuck me already, dammit,” you came out with it, temporarily lifting your head to say what was needed before shoving your face back into the same spot. Gojo usually would have corrected you with a sharp ass slap, or chastise you for asking so rudely, but he was just as horny as you, wasting no time to position his tip at your entrance. He slowly began easing his way in, his tip pushing past and already stretching at your tight walls, making him furrow his brows in concentration and let out a shaky sigh.

The stinging stretch was something you never got used to, the familiar burn of tears brimming to your water-lines also nothing new. You turned your head to the side, attempting to keep your breathing steady and collected as Gojo slowly worked the rest of him into you, bottoming out sooner than later. He let out a sigh, rubbing small circles into the small of your back while craning his head to look at you. “You okay? Want me to start movin’?”

You nodded, eyes screwed shut as a tear slipped and ran across your nose bridge. He cooed, reaching forward to brush it away with a tender thumb before giving you a sensual roll of his hips. You gasped, fisting the cotton sheets for moral support as he gave you baby strokes, his eyes gauging your face in search of accommodation. He soon felt you considerably loosen around him, your small whines of pain morphing into something more erotic, breathy. This was his green light, his hands moving to dig into your love handles as his thrusts gradually picked up pace and power.

“Fuck, yes!” you cried, shifting your face into one of the pillows in attempts to muffle your sounds, which Gojo decided to let slide for now. He placed an arm on your back, pushing your stomach into the mattress and hooking your hip with his other to keep your ass up, beginning to snap his hips into you rather aggressively.

“That’s right, I’m the only fucking one that can make you feel like this, understand me?” He growled lowly, his arrogance oddly making you squeeze around him like a vice. He chuckled at your reaction, a moan slipping at the end of his laugh as he dragged his dick out to the tip and plunged back in you with a snap of the pelvis. You let out a scream of satisfaction, which was constricted by the pillow you were biting, making him frown in annoyance.

“Why are you hiding your sounds? What, you don’t want anyone to know that you’re getting the best dick of your life?” He leaned down, his clothed stomach stacking atop your back, hand moving from the middle of your back and slithering under your shirt to your tit. He gave it a grip, immediately fiddling with the hardened nipple as he flicked his tongue out to lick the shell of your ear. He continued to scold you, “You always worry about my neighbors. Let them know who’s fucking you brainless.”

Your mind is too hazy to process even a syllable of what he was saying. Your face was starting to sweat from the heat of your heavy breathing and you keeping your face shoved in the pillow below you, one hand furiously gripping at the sheets while the other flexed and unflexed over the edge of the bed. The sounds of skin slapping skin, your pussy squelching with each thrust, your suppressed cries of pleasure, his headboard unforgivingly bashing the wall behind it, the background music of your damn video game, it would have been ruled perfect if you weren’t being shy.

Dissatisfied with not warranting any type of reaction from you, Gojo took his hand from your perked nipple and smoothed it over your perspiring skin and up to your hair, slender fingers latching onto your locks and yanking your head back. You let out a wail at the fiery feeling of your scalp being tugged at so roughly, but it only made you continue to flutter around his thickness, which made him push his white brows together and let out a sharp hiss. “Stop hiding from me,” he huskily demanded, his strokes seeming to gradually plunge and probe you deeper as he angled your eyes to meet his hovering figure above you. “Let them hear what I’m doing to you.”

“Gojo, I’m gonna fucking…” you trailed off, growing too overwhelmed with everything. You were trembling, unraveling from his touch, coming undone like a ribbon under his moist body, but was it anything new? He let out a lengthy groan, pressing your face back into the pillows and keeping his hand in place, but making you turn your head to the side so he could successfully dip his thumb into mouth. You managed to recuperate yourself enough to the point where you could wrap your lips around the digit, giving it a courteous suck before your jaw fell slack once again from Gojo’s ministrations. He was pounding you at this point, your arch evanescing, you just laying on your stomach and taking it as Gojo plunged into you from behind. He was getting close too, the occasional faults and stutters in his hips becoming more frequent and his thrusts getting downright sloppy, but you loved it all.

“You gonna cum for me?” he inquired, his voice wavering from his own pleasure. You nodded with a cry, eyes closed at this point. Gojo smiled, a breathy chuckle managing to escape him as he egged you on, “Good, make a fucking mess, will you?” He didn’t have to ask you twice.

With a guttural groan tearing from your throat, you came, this orgasm hitting you much harder than the first. You shuddered rather violently, eyes almost getting stuck in the back of your head as that same scorching heat overwhelmed every bone in your body, leaving you completely in euphoria. Gojo let out a moan of approval at you finally coming undone, your orgasm very much apparent on his dick. The white coating you left behind made his toes curl. He relished in it as much as he could until he felt himself tittering on the edge himself, his eyes fluttering closed and rolling back as he slammed into you a couple more times before he let out a growl of his own, sighing and hissing as he rode out his own orgasm inside you.

“Jesus, that felt like a lot,” you commented with a tired laugh after Gojo unsheathed himself from you, kneeling and spreading you to watch his excess ooze out of you. He hummed in agreement, tilting his head at your pussy before standing to his feet and flipping you over. You gave him a quizzical glance, soon yelping as you felt him squirm his fingers under your sides and scoop you up bridal style. “Gojo, quit it, I can walk by myself, dammit!”

“Can you really, though? You always trip and fall when we’re done,” he snidely retorted, giving you a teasing look as he escorted you to the restroom. After nudging the door open with his foot, he nodded your head to the lightswitch for you to flip it on, which you complied to. He then took the initiative of plopping you onto the sink before rummaging through his linen closet, receiving a brand new rag and soaking it with lukewarm water. You spread your legs, already knowing the procedure like the back of your hand as you watch Gojo ring the towel and make his way in between your straddled legs. With gentle hands, he began cleaning you off, softly running the rag over your overstimulated crotch with care. You sighed at the relief of it being freshened up; bodily fluids weren’t half as appealing post-sex.

“So,” Gojo started, his chipper voice slicing through the comfortable silence of the bathroom. “You still up for getting your ass beat at Smash?”

“You wish.” You retorted, giving him a challenging smirk as he finished cleaning you up.

“Okay, let’s make a bet,” he hummed, wetting and ringing the rag once again before tossing it over a metal rack. “Loser has to make dinner. And I’m talkin’ a full course meal.”

You gave him a playful shove, scooting off the counter and falling to the tiled floor on both feet. You gave him a testing grin, skipping -- albeit shakily, back into Gojo’s room. “You’re on.”

oatmealthighs ©️.

[1-ker0sene-1]

Never Just Two

Ghoap / Reader

(Wheelchair User Reader)

Chap1, Chap2, Chap3

"Not a Meet Cute"

Word Count: 1.3k

CW: Threats.

Inspired by this idea post

What started as a heated affair on what they thought was a suicide mission became much more than that. One night stashed away in a house, his Lieutenant was shot. Ordering Johnny to leave him. Over and over again the Sargeant defied his orders. It frustrated Simon to no end. He wanted to swing at Johnny. Scream at him. Push him away. He wanted him to go and live. But instead Simon ended up throwing down his mask and smashing his lips against Johnny's. The rest of the night was heavy breathing, shuddered groans, the sweat of skin.

Now it's been well over two years, they are inseparable. Others, including the rest of the 141 taskforce, simply considered them friends. Preferred work partners is all, they just trusted eachother. Oblivious to the nights Simon would slip into Johnny's room in the barracks, oblivious to the fact that they were wearing eachothers dog tags.

This mission they were on base a lot right now, on standby while the tech department got some restaffing. By department.. It was really just Laswell. She was on leave with her wife. They needed their info, but it was difficult given the circumstances. So now they were forced to wait on a replacement. That wasn't the hard part, they could be patient with that. What the struggle was- being patient enough to stay out of prying eyes. Simon could handle it most of the time. It was Johnny that was dragging him into closets, bathrooms, anywhere that he could to pull up Simons mask and kiss feverishly at his face.

Just like this. It was late, late enough that they were sure they were alone. Johnny gripped Simon by the vest, pulling him sloppily through the door into the common room. Snickering quietly as he pulls up his partners balaclava with his teeth, kissing on his jaw with an open mouth.

"C'mon L.T... all fuckin' day I needed this.."

Johnny mutters against his skin. Pulling off the mask the rest of the way.

"We should be back in the damn room not here- someones gonna wa-"

Simons words die in his throat instantly. Looking over Johnny's shoulder. Making Soap raise a brow.

"What is it-"

He turns, half laughing but stops immediately when seeing what his partner did. You.

You blink back at the Lieutenant and Sargeant with a stare of shock. Your face illuminated by the laptop in front of you. Sitting in your chair, you clear your throat and advert your eyes. Awkwardly closing your computer, pulling it off the table and into your lap.

"I think I'll give you guys the room..-"

You mutter. Pulling yourself back from the table and rolling towards the door.

Ghost is quick to pull on his mask again, stepping in front of your path. Blocking the door. Brown eyes are cold staring down at you. Not only did you see them. He doesn't recognize you. Not at all.

"You didn't see a fucking thing. Clear?"

He snarls. Eyes flicking over you.

You raise your hands lightly.

"Nothing. Saw nothing-"

You instantly confirm. Not really wanting to piss off the infamous Lieutenant. But your pretty sure the sight is already burned in your brain. You peek at the door again, hoping to leave.

Johnny eyes you wearily. Pushing his tongue against the inside of his cheek.

"Who the hell are ye?"

He snaps, crossing his arms. You blink between the two of them, sinking nervously into your chair as you ready for the interrogation they're seemingly preparing for you.

"New tech for your team? Laswell sent me. Look- was just doing some file research that's all- your business is your business. I just wanna go to the barracks."

You try to reason, a cautious frown on your face. Nervous. Probably scared. Johnny can see it, softening up his face a little. But Ghosts eyes narrow. Good. Be scared. He can't have you do anything stupid.

"You tell anyone. You're just another name on a missing persons list. It wouldn't be hard. Easy even. Understand?"

You swallow thickly at his threat, eyes falling to the floor with a nod. Sucking in a tight breath. You're holding onto the wheels of your chair with a shaky grip and white knuckles.

".. Yessir."

You utter.

Simon sidesteps out of your way, watching with a glare as you struggle a little opening the door with the laptop still in your arm. Until you slip out of the room and are out of sight. Johnny groans and rubs a hand down his own face.

"Fuck..."

He drags out the word. Looking at Simon.

"Ye really hadta threaten hir too? She tells, we'll be in a world of hurt."

"She tells. She's gone."

Johnny grunts and shakes his head, looking out the window of the common room to see you going down the hall.

"Little harsh. We aren't gonna kill hir."

Simon knows that. He won't. But she doesn't know that. And right now that might be the only thing keeping her from getting them separated.

The next morning Price comes in to the common room with an announcement. Said announcement- sitting in her wheelchair next to him, playing with her hands as the captain introduced her. Price crosses his arms.

"Men. We have a new member of the team. She'll be a new technician working with us, behind the scenes responsibilities. She's new to the base. Be respectful."

He says sternly, his elbow just barely nudges your shoulder- gesturing you to speak.

Clearing your throat you manage to sputter out your name. Trying to avoid the intense stares from the Lieutenant and Sargeant you met last night.

"Looking forward to working with you guys. Laswell recommended this team. I have no doubts about your work."

Oblivious to exactly what happened last night, Gaz was quick to step forward and shake your hand. Welcoming you into the team with a respectful clasp on your shoulder.

"Another addition can never be a bad thing yeah?"

He chuckles, you give him a friendly smile and nod.

Gaz pulls back, raising a brow at the silent two of the group. Sending a light shove to Soaps side. Making him clear his throat with a nod.

"Good to have ye.."

Simon watches in silence, only giving a confirming nod. But it's enough for the Captain. Who clasps his hands together.

"Right. Good. She'll get to work. The rest of you, keep up. Train, rest, get ready for our next run out of base. It'll be soon this week."

Price says sternly, before dismissing them.

You scratch your wrist nervously, left in the room when the Captain headed back to his office. Gaz seemed great, however the threat from the other two was still heavy on your mind. You swallowed and shrugged.

"There's not really an office yet so.. I'll be with my computer here in the common room."

This time you give fair warning.

The friendly Sargeant nods and moves past you politely, saying something about heading to the training room. Once again, leaving you with just the two. You suck in a tight awkward breath, all three of you tense. Johnny shifts uncomfortably, trying to relieve a little of the tension himself.

"About yesterday lass.."

You blink at him before shaking your head, putting your bag on the table. Fishing out your laptop and equipment. Shrugging, not even looking up from your work.

"Really not as big of a deal as you think sir."

You say, leaning on the armrest of your wheelchair.

"This line of business, it's not the first threat I've been given-"

Simon huffs, but goes to slip out of the room. He's not apologizing. Not anytime soon at least. Soap scowls in his direction, he'd talk to him about that later. He comes over to your chair, holding out a hand for you to shake. Apprehensively, you take it. He gives a lopsided smile.

"I doubt we'll have any issues."

However there's a strange glint in his eyes that makes your hand slightly tug back- but he keeps it in his grip.

"Cause I doubt you'll tell anyone."

He says in nearly a purr. Before letting go of your hand and walking out of the room. Leaving you to look down at your palm.

{I'll start this as a little series♥️ Chapters won't be super long, and they'll be like scenarios throughout your time getting to know eachother}

[hyuuukais]

.・゜-: ✧ :- FICTIONAL REALITY .・゜-: ✧ :-

pairing • bang chan x fem reader

synopsis • fiction or reality? y/n preferred the former, escaping into another world, escaping her problems. so what happens when reality takes that away from her; wiping her own story-in-progress off both her laptop and beloved usb? and what happens when she opens the door in the middle of a crisis to none other then the love interest of her novel... and he's holding her usb?

warnings • general

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

CHAPTER SIX • CHAN'S TRUTH (1.4k)

Leaving the café without talking to, or even just seeing, Chan feels weird. Not all there? What was that supposed to mean? Was it because of last night? Is Minho right- he's freaked out by you now? If anyone should be freaked out, it's you, considering he only existed in book form up until a couple of weeks ago. You still had no idea how he came to exist.

The rest of the day went quickly; grocery shopping with Minho, feeding the stray cat with him, making dinner. By the evening, you were exhausted despite the easy day. However, instead of heading to bed, you went into your office. Your laptop sat open, but not on. Sitting down, you power it up, waiting patiently for it to log you in and open the document.

There weren't any words now, just a few dots. All you wanted to do was scream.

"Just tell me something," you whisper desperately, clicking all the buttons you can. "Please."

Stop it, it types.

"Oh my god."

You have until the end of the year to figure this out, it types again. You have one chance.

"One chance..? For what?" You're frustrated again. Why is it always so vague!

Then your phone vibrates; it's Chan.

"Y/n?" His voice comes through shakey.

"Hello? I thought you didn't wanna hear from me." You lean back, chair hitting the wall lightly. "Something about, what was it? Being "not all there"? What's that even supposed to mean?"

"Forgive me for that, I know it was bad timing." You hear him wince and sit up with a new alertness.

"Chan? What's wrong?"

"You're going to think-" he inhales sharply. "Ah- you're not going to believe me. Just wanted to hear your voice in case something happens."

"In case something...? Can you just tell me straight up what's going on?" Your voice picks up at the end, worry seeping through your words. "I'm done with people being so damn cryptic lately."

"It's best you come by the café and see for yourself," his voice is quiet, and the line goes dead.

"Shit," you hold the phone away, dialing his number. No answer. "Minho!"

-

"Want me to come in with you?"

You shake your head, eyes stuck on the Sorry, we're closed! sign. The lights were off in the café, but up above you could see dim lighting through the window. "No. Whatever is going on with him... I think I need to go alone."

Minho gives your hand a light squeeze, letting you know he'll be here if you need to run. "Be careful, Y/n."

Cold air hits you hard as you step out of the car. The café door is locked, so you circle around the back. Like you assumed there was a fire escape, and if you couldn't get in there? Maybe Chan would forgive you if you smashed a window? But luckily for you, the door at the top swings open easily. It leads to an office, and as much as you want to snoop you know this isn't the time.

"Chan?" You call out, walking down the short hallway. Glancing in each door, you see no sign of him, but as you make it to the end you find the source of the light.

His living room is a mess- lamp on, but knocked over. A few books lay on the ground, taken from the shelf as if someone tried to grab onto them for support as they fell. Coffee stains the rug, a broken mug shattered partly on the small table and on the floor. The whole scene unnerves you.

A groan from the kitchen causes you to whip your head around. "Chan? Is that you?"

Tentatively, you round the counter and spot Chan slumped over in the corner. He's semi-conscious, mumbling frantically when you crouch by his side. A hand comes up to grip your arm, hard, and his eyes are suddenly wide awake. Dark circles mark his face, and he's breathing heavily.

"Y/n," his voice is hoarse. "Y/n."

"I'm here," you place a hand over his on your arm. "What... what happened?"

He shakes his head.

"If you don't want to talk about it-"

"No, no I do, I just-" his voice breaks, head back against the cupboard. "I really don't know. One minute everything was fine, was normal. But then-"

"...but then?" You try to encourage him to go on. "Trust me, whatever it is can't be any weirder than what's been happening in my life lately.

"You shouldn't be so sure," he laughs, but it's empty. "I was drinking my coffee- don't give me that look I know it's late and I shouldn't have been-" he tries to stand up, stumbling forward. You catch him and help him up, guiding him to use the counter as support.

"My mug fell. I'm guessing you saw. When I looked down, my hand it... just wasn't there?" Holding out a hand, he shakes his head again. "Up to about halfway up my forearm was gone, faded, kind of. I didn't know what to do so I let Lily be in charge downstairs for now until I could figure it out. Of course, the hand is back now."

What. The. Fuck?

Mind reeling, you can't help but wonder if this has any connection to the latest USB message you've received. If Chan showed up the night of the power outage, the day you started getting the messages, would your time limit affect him too? If you didn't figure out what it is the haunted USB wants you to do, does that mean...

Chan will cease to exist?

A horrified expression paints your face. Although he isn't meant to exist in the first place, is it fair to him to let him fade? But how were you supposed to figure out what to do when no one will give you a straight answer? How can you save Chan?

"Believe it or not, that's not the strangest thing I've heard," you settle with. "I think... I think I need to tell you something. And show you something."

-

Which is how you ended up with Chan inside your home, staring at a new message from the USB.

IT'S TRUE.

"What does this mean?"

"You want to hear my theory?" He swings around in your chair to face you and nods. You're sitting with Minho on the couch, hoping Chan doesn't notice the daggers in Minho's eyes. "Hate to break it to you, but you don't exist, not really. Min already knows, but before that storm, I was writing a novel and the main love interest was described just like you, right down to the café and accent.

"I don't know how it happened, but I think somehow you were transported out of my book that night and now I have to figure out your ending. That's all I had left- the ending." His face is unreadable. "The last message said I had until the end of the year. I think that's why you're fading." Your voice is quiet now, gentle. "And I don't know how to stop it."

A strong silence fills the room. Chan isn't looking at you- his eyes are glued to the words on the screen. On the outside, he looks surprisingly calm, but you know his world is crashing down around him. Nothing you could say now would comfort him. If he wanted to run away from you and never look back, you wouldn't blame him.

"The end of the year?"

Eyes meeting, you give a stiff nod.

"I don't exist."

You nod again.

"My sister?" Leaning forward, clasped hands against his forehead. "Berry- my dog back home? My home? None of it is real?"

"Not here... not in this reality." Minho steps in. "This isn't your world to live in, but you're here now and so are they until the deadline."

"This is too much," Chan rubs his hands through his hair a few times, stopping to look at you. "Wait, this is why you asked where the café was, and why you didn't know about anything we talked about! Because it never happened. Oh my g- I thought you just weren't interested."

Embarrassed, you nod for the hundredth time. "Yes, but we can talk about that later, okay? Right now we need to figure out how to end this-"

A phone ringing interrupts you. Annoyed, you look down at the screen, Unknown Caller.

"Weird, last time it said that it was you Min, but since you're here..." You pick up the phone. "Hello?"

A strangled gasp is let out on the other end followed by a muffled sob. "Y/n? Is it really you?"

"Holy fucking shit," you cover the speaker and look at Minho. "It's Yeji."

●

notes • another friday another chapter !!!!

taglist • @yongbbokkie @chaeryred @tenebrisirae @toplinelix @chansdoll @amaranth-writing @3rachachoo @linosjureumi @thebrownemo @tfshouldidohere @channie-143 @frogieeheart

TAGLIST CLOSED ^^^blue means i can tag you

[haegeumi]

i am rewriting my thoughts bc apparently the app couldn’t handle the absolute beast that this fic is (i savored those 37k words tbh),, the app crashed while i was halfway through writing out everything :’)))) i finally was able to get onto my laptop, anyways. let’s get into it:

just. holy HELL. THIS WAS SO %$%??&^/?*()_*(&^%$%$%&**????? WOW. the opening scene was truly masterful. i immediately felt immersed in the setting — i’m in awe of how much detail you are able to fit in without it feeling like too much? idk if this makes sense but it feels like every detail you add has a purpose...also, are you sure that you don’t know much about mma? given, i don’t really either, but the fight scenes were a wonderful read. each one had me biting my nails SHKJHD and none of them felt repetitive either!! it made me wanna kiss your brain

i really loved how beomgyu didn’t become like- weirdly macho with taehyun around — we love some positive masculinity on this blog! how they teamed up and began to train together was *chef’s kiss* OH ALSO the fact that they decided to go into that (albeit really fucking sus) tournament together and then when tae covered for gyu at the hospital really cemented that they were officially Bros. like yes. go Bros go, beat everyone’s asses and have each other’s backs

yet again, your mc was awesome <3 she’s so cool???? and badass?????? love how she took absolutely no shit, and she can handle a gun too? DAMN. don’t know if i wanna be her or be with her tbh,, her familial, older sister-like,  relationship with beomgyu was the epitome of tough love, but you can tell she really cares for him underneath all the curses and anger that she directs towards him

also wanna point out how easily it was to follow the relationships between all of the characters!! i never felt confused once, even with so many idols making an appearance

AND THE SMUT SCENE?? PHEWWW that had me blushinggg,,,,,,,,, this part especially rocked my shit:

i was all KHJJGKHGFHKjwkldk:”pl while reading that if i’m being honest,, no thoughts, head empty, just dom!tae taking on bratty!mc 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 i will forever adore the way you write smut because across all of your fics (pretty sure i’ve read all of them atp), not one scene feels the same

i’m wrapping up my essay now because it’s getting long and i’m sure you don’t wanna read my keyboard smash-littered thoughts anymore LMAO,,, i will never get over how god-tier your fics are. ever. thank you for writing and sharing this with us you legend <33333 

Killer Instinct

× Playlist ×

“Beomgyu knows better than to get himself involved in that shady fight club you always warn him about— but he never listens to you, and despite how much you beg him to leave that place alone, you don’t find yourself to be too surprised when he starts bringing those same people you warned him about to you.”

MMA Fighter! Taehyun x fem!reader 

Genre: underground fight club! au, mma fighter!taehyun, enemies to lovers, thriller/action, angst, smut

Word count: 37.4K

Warnings: general violence. (This is an mma au; fighting, blood, injuries, etc.) illegal activities (underground clubs, gambling, etc) older!mc (3 years gap), use of the word “noona”, talks about family issues, single parenting, tae is a little bitch, weapons, (knives, guns), stabbing, cigarette smoking, mc is also a bitch (they’re mean to each other), medical inaccuracies probably sksjsj, a bit of jealousy… mentions of bullying, mentions of power imbalance & manipulation, alcohol consumption, mentions of death & coping, mma inaccuracies bc i am not a professional!!

Smut warnings: dom!tae, sub!mc, mc is slightly bratty, manhandling, breast play, marking, biting, oral (f. rec), bro is a pussy fiend, (service top!tae? maybe?) hair pulling, scratching, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie(s)

Notes: i’ve worked on this stupid story for so long that i don’t even want to look at it anymore. (/hj.) another warning that idk anything abt mma, so there are definitely inaccuracies! features literally the whole idol industry,,, they're scattered like easter eggs. 

The air is thick and foggy; Taehyun can already feel the sweat beginning to form on his brow the moment he enters, pushed around like a rag-doll from the full capacity of the room. No one bothers to spare him a glance— he’s a nobody, a clueless figure that’s given away from the sheer curiosity that breaks through his eyes. The poor boy is forced to hold in a cough as someone proceeds to blow cigarette smoke in his face; he hears a few mocking chuckles around him. 

None of that matters, though. The flickering, weak lights overhead manage to spotlight his objective perfectly, his eyes lighting up with wonder as he feels a grin threatening to spread on his face; before him, two unknown men stand in a ring. 

Taehyun’s muscles twitch in attention— his mind is racing, imagining himself in their place as he watches the two slowly circle each other, wondering what he would do if he were in their place; even from here, Taehyun can see the hungry look on one of the men’s faces, a bloody grin stuck on his face as he keeps his hands up and close— his hair is tied up and out of his face as he stares his opponent down. 

It’s tense, wild even, as he finally swings, landing a punch to the other man’s stomach as the crowd around the ring roars— in approval or dread, he isn’t sure entirely. It’s a mixture of everything, men and women alike gesturing wildly as their screams blend in with the crowd; all to form a violent audience, closing in hysterically on the ring in hopes of getting a good view. 

Taehyun feels adrenaline coursing through him— it’s contagious. 

He fights the urge to try and push through, curious to see what might be going on as a sudden unanimous roar sweeps through the crowd. His eyes dart wildly, watching people celebrate, clapping each other on the backs as they cheer; others don't share the feeling, upset or even angry as he finds people being held back from trying to get on the ring— security is quick to put an end to it, though. 

And as he slowly watches the crowd scatter, he sees the same man from before circling the ring, bloody and bruised as he walks back to the referee; his arm is thrust up by the official as his supporters cheer in victory. Eyes scanning the room, his eyes briefly land on Taehyun’s before he’s back to gloating, proud despite the clear beating he took himself. 

Taehyun can feel his ambitious heart beat faster— he doesn’t know how he’ll do it, but he wants to be up there next. 

The buzz of it all is quick to calm down; it’s as though nothing happened, and he notices the way the unconscious man gets picked up and carried towards an infirmary— taking in his condition, Taehyun shudders, trying to shake it off before he looks for his target.

“‘scuse me,” Taehyun says, voice rough and as confident as he can get it to be— he hopes the referee can’t see through his act of bravery. The man barely spares him a glance before he nods, seemingly able to see what he’s here for— the small quirk of his lips is more mocking than anything to Taehyun. 

“What do you want, kid,” the unamused tone of the man before him isn’t very encouraging— for a moment, Taehyun almost feels foolish for stepping inside such a foreign ground without proper connections; he’s quick to push the feeling away, much too used to the patronizing looks he gets for being a newcomer. 

“Get me in the ring,” he can’t seem unsure now— if anything, any ounce of hesitation will get him denied immediately. Taehyun is demanding, jaw clenched and gaze hard as he stares at the older man before him; his eyes narrow at the younger’s words, and for a second Taehyun wonders if he took the wrong approach. 

“You got money to bet?” The older man’s words only bring excitement to Taehyun— he can’t hold back his eager nod, ignoring the man’s amused chuckles as he reaches into his duffle bag; carefully, he pulls out a thick wad of cash, allowing it to peek slightly out of his bag as he glances back up at the referee— judging by the smug look on his face, Taehyun is sure that what he’s brought is more than enough. 

“Good boy,” the referee whistles, but Taehyun chooses to ignore his blatant mockery as he tucks the envelope back in. 

“Jin,” the man introduces himself, offering his hand out in the introduction— Taehyun takes it, the smooth leather of Jin’s black gloves stained with blood as he holds the younger’s hand tightly; he tries to pretend that he doesn’t notice the blood smudge onto his skin, attempting to wipe it off without being noticed. “Let’s go get you on the registry, I’ll see if I can find another newbie for you.”

“Taehyun,” he says, following obediently as Jin weaves through the crowd effortlessly. Taehyun, however, isn’t as lucky, struggling to keep up as everyone seemingly goes out of their way to get in his path— it isn’t long before Taehyun resorts to pushing roughly through the faceless people. 

“Newbie? I don’t—“ Taehyun grunts as someone shoulder checks him, turning to the side roughly as he attempts to keep his sight on Jin; slowly, he’s able to catch up, “Don’t put me up against a newbie.” 

The curious glance Jin spares is enough for Taehyun to get the confidence to continue. 

“Put me up with someone experienced— all or nothing.” 

Jin can’t control the laugh that escapes him at the younger’s words; his head is thrown back, briefly catching the attention of those around him as he stops before the bar. Leaning against the wooden counter, Jin’s act quickly becomes unamusing to Taehyun as he’s forced to watch as the older man attempts to regain his composure. When he does, Taehyun can feel his jaw tick— pure mockery fills Jin’s eyes.

“You even know how to fight, kid?” Taehyun says nothing, afraid of what might come out if he chooses to open his mouth. But his steely gaze is enough for Jin, who reluctantly holds his hands up in surrender—he can tell there’s still a reluctance in the man to take him seriously. 

“Fine, I’ll give you your money’s worth,” Jin mutters, glancing back at the black duffle bag that remains secured at Taehyun’s side, “from the amount you showed me, I’m sure I could get The Bear’s attention.” 

“The Bear?” Taehyun echoed, frowning at the name. Jin only scoffs, rolling his eyes at the title. 

“I know. Stupid, isn’t it? Whatever sticks, I guess,” the referee grumbled, clearly displeased at the thought of having to announce any ridiculous names— clearing his throat, Jin squared his shoulders as he shot Taehyun a smug smile. 

“The one who just won— that’s The Bear,” Jin explains, narrowing his eyes as he gauged Taehyun’s expression, “I saw you staring— you stick out badly— and I know you wanna have a go at him.”

Solemnly, Taehyun nods— Jin only sighs at that.

“Of course,” he runs a hand through his hair, seemingly unfazed by the uncleanliness of his gloves, “everyone does.”

Taehyun wondered if Jin berated every newcomer like this— he wouldn’t put it past the referee, quite honestly. It hadn’t been long since they met, but this short amount of time had Taehyun wondering if the older man even wanted to be a part of this place; slowly, a fire lights in Jin’s eyes, leaving Taehyun confused as he watches the man let out a cruel laugh; his eyes were no longer on Taehyun’s, but instead at a very distant point behind him— one glance over his shoulder and he was able to see victor from before approaching— The Bear. 

“Cocky, faceless fighters like you,” Jin calls out, bringing Taehyun’s attention back as the younger’s eyes meet his— something is threatening within them, and Taehyun wished that he didn’t feel a sense of danger lick up his body as a grin overtook the referee’s face, “I love watching them get put in their place.”

Taehyun was unable to say anything to that— Jin’s expression seemed to light up as he pushed himself off the bar, his gloved hand slapping on Taehyun’s shoulder, startling the boy as he felt himself turned around forcefully— any angry comments died on his tongue as Jin pulled him into his side, walking forward as he called out a foreign name: Beomgyu.

“Beomgyu!” Jin calls out, grinning wildly as he forces Taehyun to follow along. Like before, Taehyun is turned into nothing but a rag-doll, fighting back the urge to shake him off as they approach the man— he can feel the curious stares of the patrons dig into him, and Taehyun begins to wonder what he got himself into as Seokjin’s fingers dig into his shoulder— almost as though he were preventing him from running away. 

One look at the man before him has Taehyun’s nerves on fire— were they really going to let him fight like this? The man before him is bruised and bloody, refusing to stop at the infirmary as he shrugs on his coat; slowly, a grin overtakes his features, a slight wince stopping him as his cut lip reopens— Taehyun can hear the man curse under his breath. 

“Who’s this?” Though Beomgyu’s eyes remain on Taehyun’s, he’s not truly talking to the newcomer; Jin is quick to respond, shaking the young boy teasingly as he laughs.

“Taehyun,” Jin says, patting the boy’s shoulder as he glances at him, “says he wants to have a go at you.” 

Beomgyu quirks a brow at that— he’s clearly amused, letting out a soft huff as he’s crossing his arms over his bare torso; Taehyun can already spot dark bruises forming in certain spots, his thin and reddened fingers tapping at his bicep impatiently as he surveys Taehyun.

“I don’t know,” Beomgyu drawls, tilting his head as though he were in thought, “I don’t wanna scare the poor kid off by giving him a good beating.”

This, Taehyun decides, is about all he can put up with; shrugging Jin’s hand off his shoulder, he scoffs, stepping forward and coming face to face with Beomgyu— the man isn’t even much taller than him, and he seems to be around his age too— yet the arrogance pours off him in waves, looking at Taehyun as though he were lesser than him— yet, he hasn’t seen what Taehyun can do. 

Beomgyu doesn’t seem phased by any of this; it’s like the smug look on his face is permanent, his head held high as Taehyun takes a moment to survey him. The air is tense as the patrons at the bar become aware of what’s happening before them; it isn’t long before they’re all taunting either Taehyun or Beomgyu, encouraging them to fight in hopes that they’ll get another show.

“If anything, I should be the one worried for you,” Taehyun mutters, a fake look of sympathy crossing his face at the thought, his voice patronizing as he continues, “I wouldn’t wanna ruin your pretty face.”

A pause. Beomgyu’s jaw clenches, his eyes narrowing as he fights back the smile that itches to show; shaking his head, he scoffs, enjoying the way Taehyun’s fiery gaze seems to burn into his skin. He sighs— it’s long and labored, his head thrown back as he shakes his bangs out of his face— then he reaches out, clapping Taehyun on his shoulder as he looks at Jin, nodding in approval. 

“Get us in the next best slot,” Beomgyu says, and the spectators seem to grow more excited with his every word. Glancing back at Taehyun, he smiles; it’s mischievous and sly, but Taehyun doesn’t allow it to get to him as he stands his ground. “I need to freshen up.”

The room is buzzing with energy as everyone seems to spread out, watching Beomgyu disappear into the locker room before they begin to bet on the results; Taehyun grimaces at the number of people who are already betting against him. 

“Seems like you bit off more than you can chew,” Jin whispers, leaning in as he bumps against Taehyun playfully. “You got twenty minutes; pray if you need to.” 

Taehyun grits his teeth as Seokjin walks back to the bar, leaning in towards the bartender as they talk, glancing back at Taehyun before they’re laughing and nodding— it doesn’t take a genius to guess what they’re talking about. Readjusting the strap of his duffle bag, Taehyun has no choice but to make his way into the locker room; he just hopes The Bear can save his temper for the match. 

It wasn’t as though he wanted to provoke the man— if anything, it was the last thing he wanted to do. But, it wasn’t long before Taehyun realized that being nice wouldn’t get him anywhere; luckily for him, he didn’t truly mind. 

The locker room is small, just as Taehyun expected; the lighting is dim and there isn’t much room to move due to the benches that line the walkways— Taehyun frowns at the inconvenient layout. At the end of the wall to his left, he finds a doorway to another room— he catches a glimpse of showers and bathroom stalls; the water runs on that side of the room, and Taehyun can already guess who might be behind the flimsy wall that separates them. Sighing, Taehyun looks for the nearest empty locker.

The sound of running water fills Taehyun’s head, blocking out everything else as he begins to think— attempting to remember all the moves Beomgyu used, trying to decipher his fighting style; his mind raced with different possibilities he could use to counter him. 

“Hey,” Taehyun is ripped out of his reverie at the firm voice, his head snapping up at the realization that they were talking to him; turning around, he’s unfazed to find The Bear staring at him blankly. 

“First time in the cage?” He asks, tilting his head as he surveys Taehyun curiously. Taehyun shakes his head in response, watching as Beomgyu only nods thoughtfully at that. It’s clear he took a moment to patch himself up, but it’s still strange to Taehyun that he’s willing to go for another match so soon— his cockiness only fuels Taehyun further. 

“It sure does look like it.” Beomgyu doesn’t bother lingering around— he’s ready, clapping Taehyun on the shoulder before he’s walking away, heading back out as he spares Taehyun one last apathetic glance. “Don’t get your hopes up too much, ‘kay? I’ll even go easy on you.” 

Taehyun says nothing. He can feel his jaw clench, trying his best to bite back another comment as he watches the older man exit the locker room; His fists tighten, the feeling of his hands tightening over the material of his wraps allowing him to calm down as he takes a steady breath. Sighing, his head is tilted back, eyes surveying the dim room for a clock— it isn’t long before he spots it above the doorway, calculating how much time he has left to prepare. 

Ten minutes.

That’s more than enough for him.

⊹⊹⊹

The cage is freshly cleaned. It reeks of cleaner and is scuffed and old under Taehyun’s feet. He has no interest in hearing about the fight that went on before his— the bored mumblings of the spectators were enough for him to tune everything out. The seating area wasn’t that big, but it was enough for the people that were more than ready to gamble and waste away from alcohol as they watched; it didn’t take a genius to know that the regulations in the place weren’t very strict. 

There’s someone new standing in the cage— a commentator, Taehyun realizes. He looks like he could be a fighter himself, but the fire in his eyes seems to be curated more for the thrill of commentating every detail of the fights before him. Words spill rapidly from his mouth, but Taehyun can’t bring himself to tune in; his bright platinum hair is glowing, even under the flickering lights, and the commentator’s names manages to slip through the walls of Taehyun’s concentration— Taeyong, with his co-commentator, Jeno. 

It’s clear they’re here to do nothing more than build up tension, making useless comments that make the audience cheer or roar with disapproval. Taeyong is gesturing wildly, pointing to the fighter’s separate corners as he seems to be talking about them; Taehyun can feel the searing stares of the people around him.

Beomgyu stands across from him, his hair pulled back and his face gone dead as he stares at Taehyun— he doesn’t look away for a second. His hands are left at his sides, fingers clenching around his wraps as he tilts his head side to side; Taehyun hears the faint crack of his bones, even from where he stands. He frowns, beginning to feel antsy the longer the commentators take— from the corner of his eye, he sees Jin enter the ring, nodding to Taeyong and Jeno as they shake hands.

Taehyun takes a slow breath, jaw clenching as he feels his teeth bite into his mouth guard. He can feel his impatience growing the longer he stares at The Bear, watching as the man before him only smiles mischievously at him; he’s pacing around his side, eyes pinned to Taehyun as though he were a predator ready to strike. 

The Bear’s eyes light up the moment the two commentators exit the ring. 

Their voices still ring out through the speakers, spewing random things about the scene as Jin beckons the two to approach him. 

“I want a clean, fair fight.” Jin begins, reaching out to clasp the two’s shoulders, “You know the rules. Protect yourself at all times, touch gloves if you want to.” 

A beat passes as Jin glances at the two fighters— Taehyun does nothing; Beomgyu only grins at that. 

Sighing, Jin backs away from the two, clapping his hands before he points back to their respective sides. 

“Back to your corners,” Jin yells, huffing as he backs away, mumbling under his breath as he does so, “let’s get this over with.”

Taehyun’s hands come up instinctively, eyes narrowing as he waits for the familiar sound of the bell. Beomgyu does the same, his stance opening as an undeniable smile graces his lips; if Taehyun didn’t know better, he’d almost think this was nothing but a game to him.

His body tenses the moment the bell rings throughout the room, his mind racing as he watches Beomgyu begin to make his way to him.

Nothing happens at first; they circle each other, Taehyun’s feet pacing quickly around the cage as he waits for a good opening. The useless chatter of the commentators threatens to break his concentration, but he knows better than to pay attention to anything other than the man before him. 

Beomgyu throws the first punch. A sharp jab is directed toward his head, but it doesn’t land as Taehyun sharply moves away. Everything changes in an instant; the moment Beomgyu puts his arm out is the moment Taehyun begins to look for a weakness. It’s a rapid flow of punches and dodges, the commentators making a fuss over everything as nothing connects properly.

Beomgyu’s punches are strong; Taehyun’s forearms ache at the impact, jumping back the moment Beomgyu attempts to land a kick— a liver shot, Taehyun realizes with a small smile. 

The two boys are equally matched, and it isn’t long before the crowd catches onto that fact— suddenly the fight has become more interesting, and Taehyun can sense everyone’s eyes on them as he watches Beomgyu prep for another kick, the minuscule mistake of his rear hand coming down giving Taehyun the perfect opening. 

Taehyun’s body twists violently, his right hand swinging around as he aims for Beomgyu’s head; the impact sends the crowd roaring. 

He feels his fist come in contact with a wound from his previous fight, his brow splitting back open as Beomgyu winces at the feeling— he wobbles slightly from the shock, his eye squinting as blood begins to trickle down.

“You motherfucker,” Beomgyu’s lips read, snarling at Taehyun as his guard seems to be raised. His arms immediately come back up, protecting his head as another of Taehyun’s punches threatens to connect. With his body exposed, Taehyun is unable to stop the kick that shoots straight at him, at the same spot as before; He feels his vision blur for a second as his breath is knocked out of him. 

Beomgyu is coming back for more as the last counts for the round are yelled out. Jabs and kicks are exchanged in rapid fire, and it’s all lost in a blur of motion as the two attempt to weaken the other— the bell rings, signaling the end of the round. 

Back in his corner, Taehyun is surprised to find that Beomgyu has no coach. He’s just like him, forced to tend to his wounds and think of a new strategy on his own; Taehyun is surprised The Bear was able to land such strong hits with his vision impaired so badly. 

Beomgyu is a ruthless fighter; he has technique and experience, and it seems that all mercy will fly out the window the moment he catches his opponent in a vulnerable spot— Taehyun just needs to make sure to not give him the opportunity.

“Ready?” Jin’s strong yell breaks through both of the fighter’s minds, and it isn’t long before Taehyun finds himself back in the center of the ring, adjusting his mouthpiece as he doesn’t bother paying attention to Jin’s rambles. 

“Knock ‘em out Bear, get this over with,” it’s the only thing that catches Taehyun’s attention, the sharp glare he sends to Jin doing nothing as he’s told to go back to his corner— though he doesn’t miss the smug look that Beomgyu sends him. 

The new round is immediate; there’s a fire in Taehyun’s eyes, his body pumping with adrenaline as he immediately approaches Beomgyu, unsurprised to find that he does the same. His breathing is slightly labored as the exhaustion from the last round seems to be catching up to him, but Taehyun doesn’t let the feeling deter him as Beomgyu attempts to deliver another kick; Taehyun counters it with one of his own. 

Nothing seems to land properly; it’s beginning to frustrate Taehyun, but he knows not to let the feeling linger too long— he’s found himself cornered, and it isn’t long before he’s wrapped up in a clinch; The Bear’s limbs constrict his, tightening around him as he attempts to wrestle him to the ground, his punches directing jabs to his ribs and face— one connects roughly against his nose, and he can already feel the familiar liquid dripping out. It’s painful, but Taehyun doesn’t let the feeling overwhelm him as he tries to break the other’s hold on him.

Though he finds himself on the floor, he’s able to break away from The Bear’s grapple, shaking himself off as he backs away, attempting to reassess the situation before him. 

Something shifts in his opponent. 

Time is running out in the round, and they both seem to realize this as punches are delivered in a more rapid fire. Taehyun hates to think it, but The Bear’s technique is good as his hits begin to fly before him, struggling to keep up as he delivers a few of his own.

One lands against the side of Beomgyu’s head; it manages to break his concentration, the hook breaking through him as it connects harshly to the man’s jaw. Taehyun can already feel his body moving before he realizes, his body seemingly moving on its own like instinct. Beomgyu manages to get a jab of his own, but it does nothing against the next punch that has him stumbling back, his vision spinning as Taehyun continues to go after him, preparing for one final move.

A roundhouse kick— straight to his liver, stunning the man as he feels his body begin to scream at him from the impact, leaving Taehyun stumbling from his horrible footing. He’s only able to get a few more punches out before Beomgyu’s falling, the referee screaming at Taehyun to back away from him the moment he falls back.

Adrenaline fills Taehyun’s body the moment he processes everything.

The crowd roars at the spectacle; Taehyun doesn’t realize what he’s doing as he roams before Beomgyu— his wounds sting and his skin is red and bruised as he grins, teeth gritting against his mouthpiece as he smiles, not bothering to wipe away the blood that drips down from his wounds— the cage is stained with it, a mark of his territory as adrenaline courses through his veins; his eyes scan over the crowd, filled with people who were set on him losing— he can only laugh at the sight.  

“Get up,” Jin yells at Beomgyu, attempting to break through the noise as he pats his cheek, “can you get up?”

Beomgyu’s nod is slow and defeated. He’s sitting up and leaning against the cage as the bell tolls like a deadly gong around him. Peering through his heavy lids, he sees Taehyun’s celebration, in a condition no better than his as he’s stumbling to the center to meet Jin.

“Impressive,” Jin admits quietly, and just like he’s seen before, his hand is thrust up as the audience cheers wildly, the proud grin taking energy from Taehyun as his posture slouches slightly.

Despite looking down at him, Jin looks surprised— impressed, even. The thought makes Taehyun smile as he tilts his head back, squinting at the bright lights that are hot on his skin, a long exhale leaving him as he laughs once more; he was just getting started.

⊹⊹⊹

Taehyun’s head feels as though it’s been split open; he doesn’t really remember what happened after his win. 

He can’t bring himself to move, a deep sigh escaping him as he winces at the bright lights above him; the cot he lays on is stiff, the uncomfortable paper beneath him crinkling as he attempts to get slightly comfortable— his face is stiff with bandages.

Another fight seems to be going on outside; the annoying ramblings of the commentators seem to seep into where he is. Taehyun is too tired to linger around, so he attempts to put the last of his energy into sitting up properly— his thoughts are interrupted by the loud footsteps that approach the room. 

“Beomgyu!” The voice is angry, growling with frustration as the door swings open. Taehyun attempts to look up at the sound, but it’s futile as the curtain around his cot obscures his view. 

“Beomgyu, you fucker!” Taehyun winces— his head is throbbing at the intrusion, and his eyes shut tightly in hopes that the newcomer will shut up soon. “You little snake, you’re dead meat!”

“Can you please quiet down?” The voice that was once taunting and dripping with confidence is now gruff and tired— Taehyun can recognize that voice anywhere, and suddenly, his urge to leave is only amplified. 

“Jesus, I don’t get why you always come here screaming like that,” Beomgyu says, exhaustion sowed in his voice, “It’s not like it’ll change anything.” 

“Fuck! Look at you!” The woman pushes past all his irritated comments, and Taehyun hears both protests from Beomgyu and the crinkling of paper, “I can’t believe you, how the hell am I gonna explain this to your mother? You know she hates it when you sneak over here!” 

“Chill with that, I can handle myself just fine,” Beomgyu scoffs, “You should be more worried about the other guy, anyway— gave him a good beating.” 

Taehyun scoffs at that. 

“The other guy?” The woman says, and before Taehyun can prepare himself, he hears footsteps approaching where he lays— the curtain is ripped away without warning, and Taehyun hisses at the lights that shine in his eyes. 

“Holy shit!”

He’s not sure if he should be offended by that, but Taehyun keeps his eyes shut in hopes that the woman will simply turn her attention back to Beomgyu; he’s surprised to feel her approaching him more. 

“Jesus Christ,” she mumbles, observing Taehyun as though he were a spectacle; Taehyun takes a deep breath, hoping that his patience doesn’t run out soon, “Beomgyu, you prick!”

“Hey,” Taehyun grumbles, brows twitching in frustration as he screws his eyes shut, “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t scream in my ear.” 

“Oh shit,” The woman jumps back at his words— almost as though she hadn’t expected him to be awake. One look at his angry expression has her quieting down, whispering a soft apology before she’s turning back to Beomgyu. 

“You little snake,” she hisses, whispering angrily as she crosses her arms on her chest angrily, “you were supposed to come help unload the delivery today! You were the only strong one available that day, so imagine your mother’s surprise when you’re nowhere in sight!” 

Peeking through his lids, Taehyun is able to catch a glimpse of the woman stomping over to Beomgyu, slapping his arm roughly as he yelps in response; the sight is almost amusing. 

“I had to lie my ass off and say you were fucking studying!” Another rough smack is delivered to his arm, as though her mentioning the incident brings back pure rage, “Of course she didn’t believe me at first! So I volunteered to do it myself! My arms are so sore, you fucker!” 

“Don’t seem sore to me,” Beomgyu grumbles, rubbing his bicep as he scoots away from the violent woman. “I’ll make it up to you, ___. I promise.”

The woman, ___, only shakes her head in disappointment. Turning back around, she stalks her way back to Taehyun. 

“Sorry about his recklessness,” she says, and Taehyun’s eyes only widen as she bows in apology— he sits up, wincing as he awkwardly attempts to shake her off. Standing straight, she huffs, hands folded neatly in front of her as she sends him a polite smile.

“___,” she introduces, fishing in her pocket for something; a business card, he realizes. “Feel free to stop by for a meal— on the house. I promise we don’t condone that one’s behavior,” Beomgyu quietly dismisses her, saying that he’s not that different from me; his words don’t seem to reach her. 

The card is cool and smooth in his fingers, and Taehyun nods softly as he watches her bow again; then she’s walking back to Beomgyu, sending him a sickly sweet smile as she leans in.

“Two hours. You better be back for the dinner rush. Or else,” wordlessly, she brings up a fist, slamming it into her open palm in a clear threat. Beomgyu gulps, the action not as subtle as he wished as he nods nervously. Straightening up, she smiles, ruffling Beomgyu’s hair before she leaves— it isn’t until then that Beomgyu clears his throat, calling after her hurriedly. 

“Hey,” He yells, pointing at her accusingly— yet she doesn’t turn back around once, his words falling on deaf ears as they watch her retreat, “Stop giving out free meals like that, you’ll go broke doing this shit!” 

Swiftly, she flicks him off. 

Then, she’s gone. 

Taehyun has to stifle a laugh as Beomgyu huffs in bewilderment, clearing his throat in an attempt to hide it the moment Beomgyu sends him a killer glare. From the corner of his eye, Beomgyu runs his hand through his hair desperately, cursing quietly to himself as he stares at the doorway, then glances back up at the clock— it’s silent save for the quiet mutterings of the man next to him. 

The door opens again, and Jin walks inside.

“___ just left?” He asks, leaning against the doorway as he looks expectantly at Beomgyu; he nods, a frustrated look on his face at the very mention of the woman. Jin groans, shaking his head as he lets out a deep sigh. 

“Damn. I promised Jungkook I’d try to make her stay a while.” Beomgyu sneers at that, throwing his pillow at the referee as Jin dodges it with ease, a squeaky laugh escaping him before he throws it back at the younger man. 

“Tell him to go find her at that damn restaurant if he’s so interested,” Beomgyu snarls, rolling his eyes at Jin’s amused reaction. Laying back down, he pulls the curtains back around his cot, his voice muffled as he calls out, “And you better not be thinking about going for that free meal, newbie.”

It becomes Taehyun’s turn to sneer. 

⊹⊹⊹

Beomgyu is dead meat.

It’s the only thought that runs through your mind, glaring at the cutting board beneath you as vegetables fly through your hands. All the background noise dies as you allow yourself to think, glancing back at the clock in hopes that the next hour will pass by quickly. 

You’re not sure what led him to involve himself so deeply in that strange underground MMA club. It was dangerous and untrustworthy— you and his mother made sure to drill that into his head the first time you caught him messing around. 

Even so, it seems as though your efforts only fall short in the end. No matter how much you team up with his mother, telling him that he should consider taking up the business in the future, or god forbid, actually focus on college, it always ends up in him shrugging you off dumbly, or waving you off as he tells you not to worry—  he knows what he’s doing. 

You’re on autopilot as you sift through the countless orders, the small open layout of the kitchen allowing you to peek at the entrance from time to time—all in false hopes of seeing the young boy you always pestered.

Two years isn’t much of a difference, but god, Beomgyu made it feel like it was sometimes. Most of the time you felt more like an older sister than an employee at his mother’s restaurant— it wasn’t your fault the man was quite the nuisance, your schedule becoming much more consistent and forcing you to see him practically all the time, and it wasn’t long before you found yourself wrapped up in the Choi family's personal lives. 

Five minutes. You think to yourself, gritting your teeth as the next hour passes, you’ll give him five more minutes.

The next five minutes pass seamlessly. 

Honestly, was two hours not enough? You get that Beomgyu was very particular about his appearance despite his interest, but two hours was more than enough for a person to patch themselves up and come back home. You attempted to not let your frustration show, averting your eyes the moment Ms. Choi appears in your peripheral vision, mumbling in curiosity about where her son might be. 

Another five minutes pass— then, thirty. The restaurant is beginning to fill up as it always does, and you’re trying to hone your concentration in hopes that your undying rage won’t seep through your face. The sound of the bell ringing breaks through your thoughts, and you look up automatically to greet the new customer. 

Your grip on your knife tightens. 

“He—“ Ms. Choi gulps, her jaw dropping at the sight as she turns frantically to you. Taking in your expression she sighs, exasperated as she rubs at her face in frustration. “He wasn’t studying, was he?”  

Making eye contact with Beomgyu, you allow your muscle memory to take over, cutting through the vegetables effortlessly as you grit your teeth, not looking away from him for a second. 

“No ma’am.”

His mother is speechless as she scoffs in frustration, cursing at her son under her breath before she’s taking off her apron— you don’t bother glancing back at the younger boy as you turn back to your cooking, the sounds of the Choi’s hushed bickering reaching your ears as they go to the back. 

It takes a while before Beomgyu emerges, patched up and pouting as walks up behind you. 

“Where do you want me,” he says, petulant with his tone as he glances at the workers around him; they barely spare him a glance, all too used to his behaviors as they focus on their orders instead. You hum in thought, looking up from your stove as you survey the area— like always, Beomgyu has managed to sneak in toward the end of the rush hour; it’s not like you’re short-staffed in the kitchen, either. 

“Go bus tables,” you say, rolling your eyes at the way Beomgyu whines at your words. He’s as annoying as ever, pulling at your sleeves in an attempt to get your attention as you refuse to look at him; shrugging him off, you hear him groan behind you. 

“You never let me help in the kitchen,” he protests, and it takes all the strength within you to not turn around and smack him. 

“If you arrived an hour earlier, you would’ve,” you hiss, waving him off, you walk past him as he opens his mouth to protest more, “get to work.” 

His mumbles and whines still reach your ears as he exits the kitchen— and it only takes one sharp glare from you to shut him up. For the rest of your shift, all you can think is how spoiled this boy remains— he doesn’t know how lucky he is, watching as his mother finally grows soft on him, shooing him back to their home to rest as he meekly nods at her words, putting an act of weakness as he immediately leaves his position— but the smug smile he adorns as he hangs up his apron doesn’t go unnoticed by you. 

Sighing, you glance back at the clock— two more hours, then you close. 

⊹⊹⊹

“You’re still here?” 

You refuse to respond to that— instead, you grit your teeth, scrubbing at a stain on the bar as you continue to pre-close. Beomgyu sighs, sitting at the bar as he leans on the counter, seemingly paying no mind to the damp wood that comes in contact with his sleeves. He’s desperate to get your attention, calling your name out softly as you continue to ignore him. 

“Are you closing today? Why is it just you?”

“Sent everyone home. They helped enough.”

If the place remained as empty as it is now, the only thing you would need to do is clean the floors and machines— which takes little to no effort for you. Beomgyu shakes his head at your words, sitting up straight as he folds his hands in his lap. 

“I’ll help,” his words are immediately met with a scoff from you, his brows furrowing as he watches you shake your head in amusement— you only laugh more as he softly questions why you’re laughing. 

“Help?” You say, tilting your head as you finally look at him. Throwing the wet towel on the counter, you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as you take a step back. 

“I asked for your help— three hours ago. Yet you still chose to be a brat and go back upstairs the moment your mother pitied you. You—“ cutting yourself off, you sigh, shaking your head before you’re picking the wet towel back off, turning your back to him, “I hope you realize how much she spoils you.” 

A twinge of embarrassment threatens to consume you due to your outburst, for the silence that follows after is entirely unexpected— usually, Beomgyu never knows when to shut his mouth. Then again, he never really knew what to say when the topic of his parent arose; he was afraid of saying something insensitive to you, you suppose. 

Yet you refuse to be the one to cave in— you refuse to even make eye contact with him, walking out of the kitchen area as you go to wipe down tables; it’s then that the small bell above the restaurant door rings. 

Mentally, you sigh— there was less than an hour left; nevertheless, you plaster on a cheery smile, straightening as you glance behind you and to the new customer; stiffening, you wince as you try to not let your surprise show through.

“Welcome,” you grit out, meeting eyes with the same man Beomgyu had beaten to a pulp a couple of hours ago— yet he seems perfectly fine, patched up and unphased as he sends you a somber nod, your worries that he’d be another bitter fighter that tracked Beomgyu down dispelled.

“You—!” Beomgyu is back to his awfully rambunctious self in a split second, twisted around in his seat as he sends the man by the entrance a sour look. “I told you not to come here!” 

Taehyun pays no mind to the dirty looks Beomgyu sends him— if anything, he smiles, ever so casual in his demeanor as he goes to sit down; next to Beomgyu, of course. 

“This place any good?” He asks, his voice gruff as he leans into Beomgyu cheekily, “you seem really eager to keep it hidden.” 

“You kidding? You’re at the hottest spot in town,” Beomgyu scoffs, puffing his chest out as he leers at Taehyun “I doubt you’ve never heard of this place.”

Their conversation becomes nothing but a muffled mess to you. Their tension is unending as they converse, their eyes filled with a fire that suggests that they might just forget about the food and fight here and now— which is why you step in, not wanting to clean up after any more messes as you take Taehyun’s order. 

At some point, you find yourself tuning back into their conversation— their rivalry is ridiculous, the tension rolling off in waves as you take a breath; Turning around, you go to place Taehyun’s order in front of him, reluctant to meet his eyes as you go to leave. 

“Hope I didn’t scare you off today,” Beomgyu goads, ever the instigator as he rests his chin in his hand cheekily, “but then again, you did ask for it.” 

Taehyun scoffs— it’s enough for you to turn back around, watching from afar in fear that Beomgyu will try to take things too far. 

“Don’t act like you left the ring all perfect,” Taehyun tilts his head, brows furrowing as he inspects Beomgyu, “Remind me, who was it that won?” 

You bite back a laugh at that, surprised to hear the results of the fight— it’s easy to do when Beomgyu is sitting up, a clear fire lighting in his eyes as he leans closer to Taehyun; his food remains untouched. You’re tense, watching carefully and waiting for a switch to flip inside Beomgyu; the last thing you want is for his mother to come down and find him in the middle of another fight. 

Instead, Beomgyu smiles; it’s a small twitch of his lips at first, his mind clearly telling him to fight it off before it overtakes him, a bewildered laugh escaping him before he’s clapping Taehyun on the shoulder, the action so rough and sudden that Taehyun is flinching from his touch. Beomgyu doesn’t say anything, lost in his thoughts as he continues to laugh— you’re unsure if he’s getting ready to throw a punch or not. 

“You…” Beomgyu grins, letting go of Taehyun with a sigh. He shakes his head, huffing in amusement before he continues, “I like you, you’ve got ambition.”

“The ring’s closed tomorrow, but it’s available for training. I’ve been needing a new sparring partner,” Beomgyu trails off, and Taehyun is quick to catch on as he frowns.

“Tomorrow?” Beomgyu nods in confirmation. It’s silent, and you’re making your way back to them as Taehyun seems to ponder it. 

“You won’t be free tomorrow Beomgyu,” you say, grabbing his attention as you send him a warning smile, “You’re helping with a catering order, remember?”

Beomgyu, shameless like always, only tilts his head in innocence. 

“Really? I don’t recall you telling me about it,” Beomgyu ponders, pouting slightly as you glare at him, “plus, I was told you would be fully staffed tomorrow— if anything, I remember my mother suggesting you give some people a day off.”

You have no patience to deal with his sly ways— your jaw clenches as you suppress the urge to jump at him from across the counter, crossing your arms over your chest as you raise a brow in disbelief. 

“If you need help, you could always keep those people on standby,” you’re unsure of what annoys you more— Beomgyu’s smug look, or Taehyun, who has finally decided to eat his food as he watches the two of you, clearly amused by what’s happening before him as he doesn’t even attempt to hide his smile.

“Good idea,” you grit out, leaning toward the younger man as you smile, “I should let your mother know you’ll be out tomorrow then; I’m sure she’ll be wondering where you went off to.”

“You know, for a mere worker, you sure are involved in our personal lives.” Beomgyu’s words are hissed out and sting like acid as your eyes widen, gritting your teeth together as you watch Beomgyu sit back in realization— as though he didn’t know what he said until now. 

“You’re right. Sorry,” you say, a gritted smile on your face as you go to fetch a takeout container; returning, you place it in front of Taehyun, ignoring his curious gaze as you send him a patient smile. 

“We closed fifteen minutes ago; sorry, but you can take the food with you if you’d like— on me. I’ll be back, if you need anything let him know,” jerking your head to Beomgyu, you ignore his attempts to call your attention back to him as you bow politely, quick to excuse yourself to the bathroom in a weak attempt to soothe your hurt and anger. 

The restaurant is quiet save for the soft ticking of a clock that hangs above them; a sound of warning as Taehyun glances subtly at the man next to him— whether Beomgyu picks up on it or not is beyond him. He’s frowning, bottom lip chewed and tugged at as he stares at the doorway which you disappeared through, a hand running repeatedly through his hair as he lets out a soft curse. 

“What was that about?” Taehyun asks— whether or not he’s crossing a boundary, he’s unsure— but he does know that he truly doesn’t care enough to gauge the older man’s reaction. He’s quick to finish his food, surprised by the quality of it as he peeks at Beomgyu from the corner of his eye; watching the way Beomgyu seems to ponder whether or not to talk, inevitably giving in as he lets out a heavy sigh. 

“I fucked up. Said something I shouldn’t have,” standing up, Beomgyu slides the stool he sat on back in, shaking his head as he goes to turn off the blaring open sign— he’s quiet, lost in thought as he carries out the usual closing duties. 

“My offer is still open, by the way,” Beomgyu calls out, and before Taehyun can say anything, he clicks his tongue in frustration, “I doubt she’ll wanna see me tomorrow.” 

Taehyun says nothing. Beomgyu doesn’t bother trying to convince him, muttering out a tired one p.m under his breath, unable to help the way his eyes travel back to the hallway you disappeared to now and then— it isn’t long before Taehyun is bidding goodbye, the offer left out in the open as Beomgyu is forced to sit with his own thoughts, ignoring the way his muscles ache or his wounds throb whenever he performs a certain task. 

It takes a while before you come back out— you refuse to look at Beomgyu as the two of you clean in silence, your face left blank and cold as Beomgyu fails to decipher what you might be thinking; even though he wishes nothing more than to take back what he said, he finds his words stuck in his throat every time he looks at you. 

You don’t bother saying goodbye when you leave.

⊹⊹⊹

“Were you lying when you said you’ve been in the cage before?” 

Taehyun rolls his eyes at the older man's words, a scoff escaping him as he chooses not to answer. Beomgyu watches with amusement as the man before him looks away, neck tilting side to side as he feels it crack with ease. The air is hot and there isn’t much light coming in from the small windows atop the room, cracked open to let the cool wintry air inside. Yet it doesn’t seem to help a lot, the two men in the cage weathered down and sweaty from hours of sparring. 

“You’re quite annoying, you know,” Taehyun grumbles, wiping away his sweat before he begins to stretch, preparing for another round as he looks back to Beomgyu— he seems unfazed by his comment, a smug grin overtaking him as he mimics his stretching.

“So I’ve been told,” Beomgyu pouts, straightening up as he waits for Taehyun to approach, “how long have you been doing this?” 

Beomgyu has his own guesses as Taehyun throws a careless jab— he’s tired, not putting any effort into his movements as he dodges Beomgyu’s own hits with ease. 

“Little over two years. It’s been nothing but a hobby until recently though,” Taehyun admits, stepping back as he puts his arms down, “didn’t know this place was a thing.” 

“It’s been running for four years, actually,” Beomgyu says, sighing as he lowers his guard as well; he takes this time to rest, feeling the way his body is beginning to ache from the activity, “Jin and a couple others started it for fun. It’s only recently that things turned serious.”

Taehyun thinks of the referee— and his clear bias with Beomgyu— and frowns, realizing that the very same man he met yesterday was the owner of the building. Shaking his head, he sighs— then jumps back at the unexpected jab Beomgyu sends to him in warning. 

He has no time to complain; his arms immediately come up for defense as Beomgyu seems to have regained his energy, a mischievous smile plastered on his face as he lands a hook on Taehyun— he groans at the feeling, stumbling back as he attempts to regain his composure. 

Before he can regain stability, he’s pulled into another clinch— Beomgyu’s got him good, unable to keep his balance as Beomgyu pulls him into a tight chokehold; He’s trapped, unable to get away as he’s forced to tap out. 

“You know, I’ve noticed quite a few things about the way you fight,” Beomgyu says, ignoring the way Taehyun gives him a pointed glare, “you give all your energy in the first round— you need to be able to conserve your energy, you know.”

Though all Taehyun does is roll his eyes, he secretly takes note of the older man’s comment; he noticed Beomgyu had been giving him pointers the entire time, and he would be a fool to not take advice from the club’s toughest fighter— Taehyun’s pride could only stretch so far. 

Silently, they decide to take a break; there was no use in practicing if neither of them had the energy to throw a proper punch. Exiting the cage, Taehyun lets out a groan as he immediately takes a seat at one of the benches before him— annoyingly, his water bottle is empty again, and he’s forced to trudge to the only water fountain in the building that’s been placed all the way by the entrance; he grimaces at the thought of having to drink water from such a rusty old thing, but the dehydrated scratch of his throat isn’t giving him much of an option. 

Taehyun isn’t too phased when the doors slam open; there have been a few other fighters that have come in while they were sparring, so he figures this must be another regular as he keeps his eyes on the water fountain— it isn’t until he hears haste footsteps and lows cursing that he looks up in curiosity. 

“Of course he would be here,” you’re as irritated as always as you push past Taehyun without much more of a glance, your brows knitted together in annoyance as you make a beeline to the cage— Taehyun gets the privilege of getting front seats to the scene as he leans back in amusement, taking a sip of his cool water before grimacing at the taste. 

“Hey!” You yell, jumping up on the outskirts of the cage and glaring at Beomgyu, who has the audacity to look up at you with puppy eyes as he lays spread out in the center of the ring, “do you always have to be here? Why don’t you go do normal things for once?” 

Taehyun can hear you grumbling something about the long drive and shady district, but it’s left an unintelligible mess as he watches Beomgyu sit up, wincing slightly in the process. 

“You knew I was gonna be here,” is all he says, ticking his head side to side as loud cracks ring throughout the empty building, “plus you’re acting like you couldn’t have called.”

You can’t seem to control the bewildered laugh that escapes you at his words, eyes widening as you jump back down from your place; crossing your arms, you sit down at a bench, jaw clenched as you shoot Beomgyu a lethal glare. 

“You think I didn’t try?” You ask, crossing your legs as you tap at your bicep in annoyance, “your phone is always in the damn locker room!”

“Alright, whatever!” Beomgyu says, throwing his hands up in defeat, “what do you need now.”

“Two of our workers called off. Your mother wants you to come back and help with the catering order,” you say, your gaze cold as you watch Beomgyu begin to whine at you, giving you excuses that you don’t bother to listen to as you shake your head. 

“Listen to your mother and go. Quick,” you say, not wanting to linger any longer as you stand up, leaving without so much as a goodbye as you’re rushing back out again. 

“Yeah, listen to your mother,” Taehyun teases, raising a brow as you snap your head towards him, delivering a cold glare that only makes Taehyun grin, much to your annoyance; he can hear you muttering curses under your breath as you slam the doors open, the sound of your rambling only amusing Taehyun further as he makes his way back to Beomgyu. 

“Crazy how you let yourself get pushed around like that,” Taehyun knows he’s only instigating, but it’s amusing to watch the older man get worked up as he simply huffs in annoyance, cursing under his breath in the same manner you did— he can see where Beomgyu gets his short temper from. 

“I don’t.” he snaps, but the way he’s already beginning to pack up says otherwise; there’s defeat in all his actions as he becomes sluggish, trudging to the locker room where he reluctantly begins to change, “come back here tomorrow, same time— I need to show you something.” 

Beomgyu leaves shortly afterward— the annoyance in his mood has yet to go away as he glances back at the ring one last time, watching solemnly as Taehyun continues to shadow box without him. For a second, he almost considers dropping his responsibilities and going for another round, but your fiery and threatening voice echoes in his head, allowing him to finally leave as a shiver goes through his body. 

⊹⊹⊹

“Stupid workers… making me clean up after their mess…” Beomgyu thinks he might go insane if he has to pack another to-go tray filled with the same order, his mind fried and his hands on auto-pilot as he watches you busily cook out of the corner of his eye. You’re as stone-cold and intimidating as always, sending Beomgyu a sharp glare every time you catch him slacking off— it’s eerie, the way you can almost sense it, never giving Beomgyu a break as you stress the fact that you need to have the order done by the next thirty minutes. 

He’s almost done, so he doesn’t feel as rushed as you do— then again, you may just be on edge due to the fact that you’ve been pulling the weight of the two workers that called off as well as your regular tasks; the sight is enough to have Beomgyu irritated once more. 

You work way too hard for your own good; it’s a fact that Beomgyu always calls you out on, but you’re always just as quick to dismiss it as you shake your head in denial, telling him that he’s overreacting. Yet, as he watches you now, stressed and irritated, he can practically feel himself biting his tongue to prevent calling you out on it. 

The catering order is finished with ease; Beomgyu can feel a weight lift off him the moment a delivery person takes the order from him— the same can be said for you— and he’s almost ready to leave when his eyes catch sight of a new patron that walks in. 

The place has calmed down a bit, so it’s relatively empty— meaning, there should be no reason for Beomgyu to linger around anymore. Yet, he can’t help but be nosy and stay as he watches Jungkook beeline towards you, confident and handsome as always as he sends you a beaming smile.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here,” you remark sarcastically, leaning against the bar counter as you match Jungkook’s mischievous grin, “the usual?” 

“You know me so well,” Jungkook coos, and the exchange is enough to have Beomgyu straightening up— he’s never seen Jungkook at the restaurant before, let alone the two of you talking so casually to each other. 

Neither of you seem to catch Beomgyu’s analytic stare, much too caught up in your own world to notice anything around you; even the new customer that comes in through the door, trudging over to the bar as he sits a few seats away from Jungkook— Beomgyu is the first to notice as he quickly makes his way over.

“The hell are you doing here?” 

The smile Taehyun sends is pure evil as he leans on the bar, crossing his arms and tilting his head as he raises a brow at Beomgyu’s pointed question. 

“Here to eat, what else?” Beomgyu says nothing in response, his eyes narrowed and his brows furrowed as he takes Taehyun’s order, “and if you’re done eavesdropping on their conversations over there, I’d like to know what you were talking about earlier— I’m not exactly free tomorrow.”

The man’s words are enough to have Beomgyu standing straight, sending Taehyun a glare as he grits his teeth at the comment. “Am not.” 

“Come on, be slick about it at least,” Taehyun sighs, eyeing the two of you from the corner of his eye, watching as you continue to converse with the customer— it takes a moment, but Taehyun is able to recognize the patron as he looks back at Beomgyu, pointing their way as he asks, “the hell is the bartender from the club doing here?” 

“That’s Jungkook,” Beomgyu mutters, putting his notepad away as stops to watch the two of you carefully for a second, “and that’s what I’m wondering myself. It’s clearly not to eat.” 

“Yeah, who gives a fuck,” Taehyun grumbles, watching as Beomgyu reaches in his pocket for a piece of paper— pausing, he takes a second to examine Beomgyu, biting his lip as he fights back a smile, “hey, you jealous?” 

“Shut up,” Beomgyu groans, rolling his eyes as he turns his back to you, jaw clenched as he narrows his eyes at Taehyun, who’s only left smiling in return, “she’s basically family, don’t even assume shit.” 

“Not what you said last time I was here,” Taehyun’s words have Beomgyu pausing entirely, forced to take a second to breathe as he takes in the younger man before him. 

“You’re an instigating little bitch, huh?” Is all Beomgyu can utter, watching as Taehyun simply laughs at his words, clearly unaffected by Beomgyu’s anger, “you better keep your mouth shut if you wanna stay in here.” 

“Alright, do your thing,” Taehyun sighs, putting his hands up in defeat. A moment passes, and Taehyun huffs out a laugh, his eyes falling to the piece of paper Beomgyu pushes forward before he continues, “This better be good.” 

Beomgyu watches as Taehyun begins to scan the paper, turning away so he can put the younger’s order in as he does. Once finished, he pauses, leaning against the wall as he waits for Taehyun to finish—Taehyun can practically feel the said man’s stare burn into his skin as he reads the information carefully, eyes widening as takes it all in; looking up, he finds Beomgyu’s eyes effortlessly.

Folding the paper back up carefully, Beomgyu makes his way back over, surprised you haven’t swooped in and asked what’s going on yet; hurriedly, he gets tries to get his point across, leaning in close to Taehyun and sending him an excited smile as he watches Taehyun open his mouth to ask questions immediately.

“How did you find this?” He asks, searching Beomgyu’s eyes as he watches the older man take the flier back, running his fingers over the creases in an absentminded attempt to smooth them out, “who gave you this?” 

“Old friend of mine.” Beomgyu says, leaning back as he watches Taehyun do the same, crossing his arms as he watches Beomgyu with scrutinized eyes, “thought you’d be interested in this.” 

“You’re inviting me? Letting me in on this?” Taehyun asks, frown only deepening as Beomgyu nods innocently, “what makes you think I won’t just win the tournament and take the prize money for myself?” 

“That is a possibility,” Beomgyu hums, “but that’s also what makes it fun.” 

“The hell is this? FightX?” Beomgyu can’t help the way he jumps as you appear behind him, looking over him as you reach to grab the flier from his hands. Beomgyu, in a weak attempt to distract you, attempts to call Jungkook over, trying to snatch the flier back while doing so; his attempts fail miserably as he watches the way your eyes grow wide.

“Are you kidding me?” You say, taking the flier and tucking it away in your own pocket smoothly. Beomgyu only sighs, used to your antics as Taehyun can only watch with an amused look in his eyes, ever as eager to poke the bear as he finds your anger intriguing. 

“Beomgyu, I swear to god that if I see or hear anything about you in that FightX club, I’ll kill you myself.” Your hands are tense as you cross them over your chest, giving Beomgyu a pointed glare as you continue, “I don’t care about you going to Seokjin’s little place— but if you even try to go to that tournament—” 

“Hey, relax, won’t you? You wouldn’t even know what goes on in a place like that,” Taehyun’s words are enough to have your eyes widening, mouth parting in surprise as you slowly turn to the man; beside you, Beomgyu shakes his head in warning, sending Taehyun a warning glare as he mouths the words shut the fuck up. 

“What did you just say to me?” You ask incredually, leaning forward and against the counter as you examine Taehyun carefully; the man is nothing more than amused as he smiles innocently at you, standing his ground as he tilts his head like a puppy, “who are you, anyway?” 

“Someone who knows way more about what goes on in that club than you,” he says softly, a tired tsk leaving him as he takes in the twitch of your brows, watching the way you try to keep your expression neutral, “you don’t need to worry about what Beomgyu does in his personal time.”

You’re left speechless as you press your tongue against your cheek, huffing out a bewildered laugh as you take a step back; glancing at Beomgyu, you narrow your eyes at him, watching as he simply attempts to diffuse the situation with stuttered excuses and a nervous laugh, his behavior changing drastically under your heated gaze.

“I warned you.” is all you say, not bothering to regard Taehyun at all as glare at Beomgyu, turning on your heel as you hear a coworker call your name for your help. 

“What the hell man?” Beomgyu whispers, turning to Taehyun with wide eyes; the man simply shrugs, unphased by the tension as he sighs tiredly. Mind muddled with everything that just happened, he’s quick to find himself untying his apron; he’s done what you’ve asked, and he doubts that you’ll be able to force him to stick around now— especially after the confrontation you just had. 

“FightX? Yo, you’re not planning on going, are you?” Jungkook is slow to the scene as he takes a seat next to Taehyun, recognizing him as the new fighter from a while ago as he nods to him in greeting; turning to Beomgyu, he raises a brow as he waits for him to respond. 

“I don’t know. The prize money’s no joke,” Beomgyu admits, holding onto his apron as he narrows his eyes at Jungkook, who’s only shaking his head in dismay. 

“The prize money is like that for a good reason,” Jungkook warns, nudging Taehyun as he tells him to listen as well, “that place is dangerous. Both the fighters and the patrons are something else, and if you don’t have connections to the right people…” 

The way Jungkook trails off is enough to give the two younger men a gist of what he means, the troubled look in his eyes disappearing as he watches you pass by— his signature smile is back as he pats Taehyun on the back, sending Beomgyu a look before he’s standing up, ready to go to where you’re at now.

“Use your brain for once and think this one through, yeah? And you,” Jungkook says, nudging Taehyun before he leaves, “stop putting our most valuable asset in danger.”

The way Jungkook goes to you is reminiscent of a puppy, the two men watching as he goes back to shamelessly flirt with you— you seem unphased, rolling your eyes as you try to hide your smile of amusement all the while.

“Think this through,” Taehyun chimes in, bringing Beomgyu’s attention back to him, “you seem to have connections— plus, I think it’d be fun.”

The offer becomes more tempting as Beomgyu recalls the prize money that comes along with the win, and Beomgyu is left with more uncertainty than expected as he thinks back to the warnings that came along with it. 

⊹⊹⊹

Beomgyu hasn’t been home today.

He’s never home, really, so the fact should be no surprise to you. But there’s something about today that leaves you on edge, your leg bouncing under the table as you hide your unease with a shaky smile. 

“You’re such a hard worker,” Beomgyu’s mother sighs, pouring you a cup of coffee as she makes her way back to where you sit at the dinner table, “I can’t thank you enough for what you do.” 

“I should be the one thanking you,” you say, taking the warm mug from her, trying to hide your shaking hands as you cup the dish tightly, “For giving me this opportunity. For giving me a home.” 

The Choi family was the only reason you were still alive and healthy; if it weren’t for them, you’d probably still be on the streets, dependent on the money that came from shady clubs filled with dangerous people.

That was the only reason you met Beomgyu— you had just finished a fight of your own as you stumbled out of the infirmary, barely patched up as they began the men’s lightweight division fights; you only wanted to stay and bet on the fight before you before you left with the rest of your earnings, curious as to how the match before you would end. 

To say the crowd loved it was an understatement; they were sick people, and the moment they realized that one of the most experienced lightweight fighters was currently pitted against a scrawny sixteen-year-old boy, the betting pool practically tripled within seconds. 

You‘ve never seen him before; it was clear to you that he was new within seconds of watching him in the cage, from his unsure missteps, to the way his arms didn’t come down from his head for a second, wide eyes watching carefully for any opening available. 

He got beat and knocked out within minutes; the match had been more of a joke to those watching than an actual fight. His injuries were nothing to laugh at however, the cage floor littered with his blood as nurses rushed out of the infirmary for him, picking him up and carrying him away as the patrons around you remained unphased at the sight— you still remember wincing as you took in the state his opponent left him in. 

It was a general consensus within the ring that those more experienced shouldn’t be too harsh on newbies— simply out of respect for one’s opponent. But respect didn’t exist in such a place— if anything, respect wasn’t even earned after countless grueling matches in a place like FightX; it didn’t matter if you were good, the only thing that mattered was the number of wins under your belt and how much cash you walked out of the place with— which is why the patrons of such a club knew better than to mess with you. 

This was no place for a child, you remembered thinking to yourself, scoffing at the way people continued to berate and talk about the loser of the previous match. Rolling your eyes, you figured it was better to leave now than to stick around and have shady people try to strike up deals with you— wanting to become your manager, to move you further up the ladder, to share profits with you. 

It usually wasn’t a problem for you to leave; if anything, regulars knew better than to get in your way after you’ve had your fill of fights— but it had been different that day, left to push your way through as a commotion began to form at the entrance. 

“Woah, who the hell is this?” The speakers above you were booming with the commentator’s sneering remarks, the current fight before them no longer a priority as the screams of a woman tore through the crowd. 

“Please, please tell me he’s here,” the ruckus was beginning to become more of a headache to you than anything, pushing through the heaps of people in an attempt to get past the dramatic scene and back home— “home” consisting of a random motel that was cheap enough for this week’s earnings— only to pause once you were able to take in the woman’s helpless state. 

This was someone’s mother, you realize, raising a brow as you take in the way her eyes are wide with fear and worry, brimming with tears as she attempts to put on a brave front. The mocking commentary of the men continue to boom over the speakers as those around the older woman ignore her or tell her to get lost, not bothering to listen to her words as they immediately turned their backs to her. 

The boy’s mother. You realize, taking a deep breath before you walk toward the woman, grabbing onto her bicep tightly in order to gain her attention. She seemed more than ready to brush off your grip and fight to stay, but upon taking in your solemn appearance, she paused, her mouth parting as she no-doubt became ready to ask the same question she had been asking everyone else.

“Your son is over here,” you sigh out, tugging her along wordlessly— at your claim, she quickly follows, asking endless questions that you can’t even seem to keep up with. 

“Tall, scrawny, long hair?” You ask, glancing back at her to catch her nodding incredually, “around sixteen?” 

Once again, she nods, her gesture only making you sigh once more as you ignore the pressing stares of those around you. 

“Yeah, he’s this way,” you say, finally arriving at the infirmary as you’re left to scan all the cots around you; his mother seems to spot him first, exclaiming loudly before she leaves your side to run to him. 

The sight is enough to have you clenching your jaw as you lean against the doorway, arms crossed defensively over your chest as you watch the boy’s mother cry and scold the barely conscious boy. It was clear she cared for him, and the sight was foreign to you as you found yourself frozen in one place, forcing yourself to spectate a scene that you knew you’d never experience for yourself. 

You stuck around to help the woman take her son home, listening quietly as she turned to scold the boy, huffing once in a while as she observed the way you effortlessly helped him walk with an arm thrown over your shoulder— the patrons around you were wise enough to keep their comments to themselves as they flinched at the hard glares you gave them. 

“Don’t come back here kid,” you remembered telling him, dropping him in the passenger’s seat of his mothers car, rolling your eyes as he incoherently attempted to argue with you, “this place is too dangerous for someone like you.” 

“And you?” His mother’s words had been enough to snap you out of your dazed state; looking up, you had been surprised to see his mother staring at you with the same concern in her gaze, her head tilting as she scanned your bruised skin and tired face, “will you be alright here?” 

Her concern had been unexpected— so much so that you couldn’t help the way you laughed softly at her words, shaking your head as you ignored the strangely warm feeling that bloomed within you from her concern. 

“I know how to handle myself here,” you told her, jaw clenching as you watched the way she remained unconvinced. Slowly, you watched her reach in her jacket pockets, fishing around for something until she finally found it, a small ah, escaping her mouth before she finally offered you the object with polite hands; you stared at the business card she handed you, unsure of what to do until you finally accepted it after a pause. 

“Thank you so much for your help today,” she says, bowing gratefully as she looks at you with a kind smile, “if you’re ever hungry, you can always stop by. On the house.” 

The laminated card feels smooth under your fingers as you absentmindedly accept her offer, unsure of how to react to her kindness as she thanks you again; you try to ignore the way her eyes are coated with concern and pity, the emotions within you nothing but bitter as you watch her drive away. 

Shoving her card into your jacket pocket, you sigh, turning on your heels and walking back to the cheap motel that you knew was too shady to stay at for too long. If you win another match tomorrow, you might be able to stay at the better motel just a few blocks over. 

The thought was promising as you made your way back, your muscles aching and your stomach growling as you inevitably thought back to the free meal that boy’s mother promised you. 

Maybe tomorrow, you thought, pulling the card back out of your pocket to examine it, you should treat yourself after tomorrow’s fight. 

⊹⊹⊹

Your life had taken a surprising turn after that day— now you found yourself here, sitting in the home of the Choi family, welcomed as always and reformed of your ways of fighting— you only wish the same could be said for Beomgyu. 

“So,” you say, clearing your throat as you try to get the nerves out of your tone, “Where’s Beomgyu at?” 

“Oh,” she sighs, slumping down in the chair across from you as she takes a sip from her cup of coffee, “God, I don’t even know— he left really early today, didn’t even bother to let me know— he hasn’t been back since.” 

The news was odd to you; it was late already, but Beomgyu wasn’t the type to be up in the mornings, much less make any plans. You took a second to process her words, nodding absentmindedly as you took another sip from your drink— the flier you took from him seems to be weighing your pocket down now more than ever. 

He wouldn’t, the more forgiving part of you thought, he knows better than to go off to a place like that. 

But the more skeptical part of you knew better; Beomgyu was always one to be swayed easily, and with that new sparring partner of his, your trust in him only seemed to dwindle more and more. 

Taehyun had only proved himself to be a danger to Beomgyu— especially if he was so eager to get himself into a place like FightX. 

Your thoughts were abruptly interrupted when the sound of a phone ringing echoed throughout the room; blinking wildly, you allow Ms. Choi to excuse herself as she leaves to answer the phone— you take this chance to take the flier out of your pocket, unfolding it carefully as your fingers smooth over the wrinkles. 

Reading it carefully, your eyes widen, biting at your lip as you feel your heart beginning to beat faster.

It was tonight.

And it started two hours ago. 

You don’t give much of an explanation to Ms. Choi as you’re standing abruptly, making your way to where she stands at the kitchen to say goodbye— you can see the confusion and concern swim in her eyes at your suddenness, but you hope that the bright, carefree smile you send her is enough to soothe her as you apologize for leaving early. 

It’s scary how easy it is for you to make your way to that club— despite it being years since you last stepped inside, you can still feel instinct take over as you’re speeding off to the tournament. 

If Beomgyu’s still alive by the time you get there, you’ll kill him yourself. 

Clenching your jaw, you pray that there are no cops around as you speed through the empty streets, your only priority clouding your mind as you run past a few red lights. 

And his little friend too. 

⊹⊹⊹ 

Beomgyu’s body feels like it’s been set alight with anxiety. 

He’s pacing around the locker room, attempting to control his breathing as he focuses on his next opponent; on his fighting style, on how to beat him. 

He’s been in this position many times— it’s like second nature to him, only the new setting seems to be affecting him more than he expected. It’s not like he’s never branched out to other underground fighting tournaments before; he’s been all around the city and even outside of it, trusting Seokjin’s judgment as he made a name for himself through it— in a way, Seokjin had almost been like a manager to him.  

But he hasn’t been here in years; six years, to be exact. He can still feel the danger that looms through these walls, feeling more trapped than anything as memories of his first match come to mind— a primal fear is prominent in every single one. 

Beomgyu is much more different than he was six years ago— both in muscle and mentality, he knows how to handle himself in such a shady place. Yet, he can’t help but remember your warnings, his brows furrowing as he feels his heart pound a little harder against his chest. 

“You overthinking things again?” Beomgyu’s spiraling train of thought is interrupted as he snaps his head over to the doorway, meeting eyes with Taehyun who sports a bright smile, much more relaxed and excited than he is.

“Can’t help it,” Beomgyu admits, sighing heavily as he turns to stretch instead, “new territory.”

“Thought you had connections to this place?” Taehyun asks, tilting his head as he listens to Beomgyu explain that while it is true, he still isn’t experienced with this club. 

“Don’t think about it too much,” Taehyun says, making his way over as he sits at the bench near Beomgyu, “the bracket looks easy today.” 

The plan was simple; make it to the end of the bracket, where Beomgyu and Taehyun would inevitably have to fight each other— the earnings would be split between the two after.

Just makes the odds of earning the prize money higher, Beomgyu had explained once Taehyun began questioning his motives, that way, both of us win, and get experience out of it.  

The prize money was already so grand that even half of it seemed more than enough for Beomgyu— and of course, the thought of returning to such a place and finally winning a grand tournament was thrilling to Beomgyu. 

The things he could do with the prize money were endless— he already had a few ideas in mind, thinking back to his hardworking mother and how much she struggled to raise him on her own while still managing her restaurant. Then he thought about you, of the hard times he gave you, knowing how much you feared him going through the same things you did, of turning to a life dependent on fighting and gambling. 

“Hey hey, focus,” Beomgyu is blinking rapidly as Taehyun claps in front of his face, laughing at the way the older man managed to zone out once more, “you’re up in three minutes, you should prepare yourself.” 

Beomgyu is nodding absentmindedly as he watches Taehyun exit, still feeling nerves creeping up his system as he wonders if this is all such a good idea; then his name is called, and the referee pops in to ask if he’s ready. 

“Yeah,” Beomgyu finds himself saying, feeling as though he’s lost control of his body as he’s walking out of the dimly lit locker room, “lets go.” 

⊹⊹⊹

“Hey, I know we haven’t talked in a while but— yeah, no need to remind me,” your voice is low and your footsteps are echoing as you walk through puddles, the smell of rain still lingering in the air as you weave your way through dark alley— the feeling is oddly reminiscent as you find yourself laughing along with your old friend on the phone.

“No, it’s serious stuff,” you sigh, turning the corner as you find the place you’ve been dreading to step inside of. A small shop meets you, the lights off and the gates closed around the windows— the unassuming shop makes your stomach churn with dread, approaching it slowly before you’re walking around its perimeter. 

“You’ll never guess where I’m back at right now— yup, the very one,” your friend’s incredulous laugh booms over the line as you let out some bitter chuckles yourself, rounding towards the back as you see a deep, ominous stairwell; faintly, you can hear the brutish screams and commentary leaking through, the sound only beginning to worsen as time passes; the sound has a deep sigh leaving you as you begin the long descend into the basement. 

“Listen, I need you and your men to be here on standby— I’m serious, you think I’d joke about this stuff?” You finally reach the bottom as you pause at the very last step, staring at the metal door that’s left at the end of the corridor. 

“Thanks. I’ll call you if I need you to come in,” you say, bidding your goodbye before you’re finally hanging up, tucking your phone in your back pocket before you’re taking a final, deep breath. 

Hopefully I won’t. You mutter, reaching forward before you’re finally opening the heavy, metal door. 

⊹⊹⊹

Beomgyu feels dizzy. 

The bracket looks easy today, Taehyun’s voice echoes in his head as he rests against the ring’s ropes, the layout different to what he’s used to as he takes a moment to recollect himself. 

Easy— the fuck was Taehyun talking about? Beomgyu feels left out as he watches his opponent talk with his coach, discussing strategies and glancing back at Beomgyu, who’s left on his own as he takes the opportunity to stretch. 

He just needed to beat the man across from him, then he was officially in the finals. The thought was the only thing that soothed him as he scanned the crowd for Taehyun, finally finding him right at the front; he was just as tired and beat as Beomgyu was, but the encouraging smile he sent Beomgyu managed to keep him on his feet a little longer— the prize money loomed over his head as he watched the referee call the next round, the fighter before Beomgyu gritting his teeth against his mouthpiece as his coach yelled at him to knock Beomgyu out. 

His opponent became predictable fairly quickly— Beomgyu’s arms came up to his head for defense as the man attempted to jab at him, only to slide down to his sides and squeeze as his opponent attempted to land a hook to his side; at his liver, to be exact. 

Chenle, Beomgyu remembers the commentators announce, his name was Chenle. 

He looked to be around his age, if not younger. The man before him was energetic and strong, but seemed to get too excited during the rounds; it seemed as though he only came into the ring with one tactic in mind, and remained persistent to knock his opponent out in one specific way— it seemed he targeted Beomgyu with liver shots. 

His punch was quite lethal— Beomgyu would know, because he fell victim to his attack in the first round. If anything, he still feels as though his mind is all muddled as he shifts away, avoiding the man’s attempt to get him cornered before he’s throwing a few quick punches himself. 

It doesn’t take long before Beomgyu is able to turn the match around, however. Chenle seems to be very poor in adapting to an opponent’s fighting style, and Beomgyu is quickly able to pull him into a chokehold that has him tapping out within seconds— without his hooks, Chenle was practically useless.

All this fighting had taken a toll on Beomgyu— he’s sure it showed as well, panting like a dog as the referee thrust his hand into the air, the commentators announcing him as the winner over the speakers: The Bear wins again. 

Beomgyu could see why you attempted to dissuade him from going to such a place as he takes in everyone’s reactions— the good, the bad, and the dangerous. From the corner of his eye, he can see Chenle stumbling back to his coach, the two clearly bitter and angry as they whisper plans to each other— Beomgyu shivers involuntarily as their glares land on him, his gut telling him that they’re up to no good as the referee finally lets go of his wrist, quick to exit the ring and get as far from them as possible. 

“Hey, we made it,” Taehyun grins, clapping Beomgyu on the shoulder as he laughs with joy— only to apologize as Beomgyu winces, his hand coming off in a second, “Our fight’s in thirty minutes, go rest and clean up— I don’t wanna have to go easy on you now.”

Absentmindedly, Beomgyu nods, ducking his head and making his way back to the locker room as he tries to ignore the stares of those around him— he can practically feel his body become alight with nerves by the time he’s back in the dark locker room, his heart pounding and his hands shaking as he begins to wonder if all your warnings have made him paranoid.  

It must be the adrenaline, he thinks to himself, undoing his hand wraps and wincing as he stretches his cramped muscles, yeah. adrenaline.  

He can’t help the way he groans as he makes his way to the bathroom area— all this fighting has taken a heavy toll on him, and he quickly finds that he’s already begun to sprout plenty of injuries and bruises as he finds his reflection in the mirror; his eyes remain downcast as he goes to wash his hands, sighing as the cool water splashes against his skin.

“I’m telling you, you were great!” Beomgyu can’t help but hear the conversation that begins to leak into the locker room, frowning at the way the second person begins to complain and yell angrily— the sound is enough to have Beomgyu on guard, straightening up slowly as he quickly turns the sink off. 

“No, I wasn’t great— I fucking lost!” He jumps at the sound of something striking hard against the lockers— Beomgyu can feel his stomach sink with dread as he realizes that it must be Chenle that walked in— he’s able to recognize his voice fairly quickly. 

“I know, I know— It’s odd, really, you weren’t supposed to have…” Beomgyu feels like he’s unable to breathe as the manager walks into sight, locking eyes with him through the reflection in an instant as he immediately stops talking; Chenle’s irritated what? Is enough to have Beomgyu snapping out of his daze, turning around as he watches the boy’s manager let out an exasperated laugh. 

“Hey,” Chenle begins, spotting Beomgyu as he quickly makes his way to him— Beomgyu remains silent, his eyes narrowed coldly as he tries to make a point that he’s not intimidated, “what the hell was that about back there?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Beomgyu mutters, watching as Chenle scoffs, turning away for a second to compose himself. 

“The match,” Chenle clarifies, enunciating each syllable as though Beomgyu were incapable of understanding, “you were supposed to throw it.” 

The words are definitely news to Beomgyu; he’s sure it shows on his face, because Chenle only seems to grow angrier by the second, Beomgyu’s silence only irritating him more as he runs a stressed hand through his hair. 

“Don’t act fuckin stupid,” Chenle spits out, pushing Beomgyu’s chest and taking him by surprise as he stumbles back into the sink, “We had our deal. Give me back the money I gave you.” 

“You have the wrong person,” Beomgyu says slowly, attempting to remain calm as he briefly looks over Chenle’s shoulder, and at the exit behind the two; he had two options: fight— which Chenle seemed more than ready to do— or stay out of trouble and run. The second option seemed very tempting at the moment. 

“I didn’t make any deal with you.” 

This seems enough to set Chenle off, more than ready to throw a punch before he’s interrupted by his manager; the man’s sharp Chenle is enough to have the two men looking back, over to where his manager leans against the wall, arms crossed as he stares at Beomgyu carefully. 

“You,” the man says carefully, nodding at Beomgyu as he raises a brow questioningly, “what’s your name?”

“Beomgyu,” he replies gruffly, watching as the manager only becomes more confused by his response. 

“Who sent you here?”

“Hey man, what’s the hold up, our fight started two minutes ago and people are already calling a forfeit—“ Taehyun pauses at the sight of the scene before him, taking a second to compose himself before he’s sending a cold glare to Chenle’s manager, “what’re you doing here?” 

“I could ask you the same thing,” the man replies, pushing himself off the wall before he’s shoving his hands into his pants pockets, “now that I think about it, you two weren’t on the original roster we agreed to.”  

“The hell are you talking about?” It’s clear that the situation has begun to annoy Taehyun, who remains unphased as the manager begins to walk towards him, “We were invited to the tournament.” 

“Oh yeah? By who?” The man asks quietly, tilting his head as he waits expectantly for Taehyun to answer. 

“Choi Yeonjun,” Beomgyu says, the name foreign to Taehyun’s ears as he gauges the men’s reactions, the two of them watching Beomgyu with a scrutinizing gaze— what he sees does nothing to soothe his nerves. 

“Choi Yeonjun?” It seems as though that was not the answer either of them were looking for, the older man beginning to walk towards Taehyun, cornering him against the wall as Beomgyu attempts to step in— the warning glare Chenle sends him has him stilling for a second.

“That little rat sent you two? He still has the courage to try and involve himself here?” Something isn’t right— Beomgyu feels as though his body is on fire, buzzing with adrenaline as he watches the man’s tone drop dangerously— he’s reaching towards his jacket, the sight alarming as Beomgyu decides to divert his attention before it’s too late. 

His attempt to take down Chenle works fairly easy— at least, that’s what Beomgyu thinks initially, able to take Chenle by surprise with a punch to the face before the boy is recovering; he’s more than ready to take back any of Chenle’s hits, only that’s not what the younger man seems to have in mind as he reaches into his jacket pocket instead.

Beomgyu isn’t given much time to react before Chenle is tackling him into the wall, his head banging harshly against it before he feels himself grow paralyzed with shock and pain— the knife Chenle drives into Beomgyu’s stomach is quickly plunged out, the younger man’s manager pulling him back with a scolding tsk and a harsh pull of his collar. 

“Shit,” he can hear Taehyun exclaim, running to Beomgyu’s side in an instant as he attempts to add pressure to the wound; Beomgyu is still in shock as he groans at the feeling, a shuddering breath escaping him as he watches his blood run down his skin and stain his shorts. 

“Chenle, let’s go,” the manager hisses, tugging Chenle along and hiding the weapon before either Beomgyu or Taehyun are able to process it.

Beomgyu feels as though he’s swimming underwater with how disoriented he feels, the quiet apologies Taehyun lets out over and over falling onto deaf ears as the noise outside only grows louder. 

“We need to take you to the hospital man, shit,” Taehyun says, doing his best to carry Beomgyu with him as they make their way out— he knows better than to try and trust anyone in this place to treat him. 

“What’s this?” Taehyun is already rolling his eyes at the sight of a new person blocking their path, more than ready to curse them out and push them out of the way before he realizes who it is; Choi Minho, the club owner, simply smiles down at them, inspecting the two men before him before his cold gaze stops upon Beomgyu. 

“Playing dirty already?” His lack of urgency has Taehyun’s stomach churning with dread, wondering what the fuck he’s gotten himself into as the owner of the club only stops to laugh at his own joke.

Taehyun’s guilt and fear for his friend seems to cloud his reasoning; without another thought, he’s pushing past Minho, trying to find his way over to the exit before he quickly realizes that he’s managed to bring all the attention to him. 

The crowd goes wild at the sight of Beomgyu’s injury; they’re crowding around the three, attempting to instigate a fight and bet money as their eyes light up with bloodlust— the sight has Taehyun shivering as he stumbles forward in uncertainty, avoiding a woman that attempts to grab out to Beomgyu in the process. 

The sight was terrifying; Minho could only watch in satisfaction behind them, crossing his arms in amusement as he watched Taehyun try to push through the packed crowds of people; his hold on Beomgyu was slipping, and he’s sure he’s left a trail of blood by now as his ears begin to ache, trying his best to ignore the catcalls and insults that are thrown at him; both to try and instigate and annoy him.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Minho calls after them, following behind as people almost seem to clear a path for him; in turn, the people on the other end seem to grow bolder, blocking his path and eager to witness conflict as Taehyun begins to yell at them to move.

“We still need to discuss your connections to this place,” Minho says, his eyes darkening as he meets Taehyun’s heated gaze, “Choi Yeonjun, was it?”

It’s no use; the crowd is getting handsy, pushing Taehyun back towards Minho in order to see the drama unfold. Beomgyu can only cling tighter to Taehyun, groaning in pain as the adrenaline slowly begins to wear off. 

Choi Yeonjun, what the fuck did you do, Taehyun is practically ready to spit in Minho’s face from the anger that courses through him, but the fear that Beomgyu may bleed out on him keeps his senses on high alert as he tries to formulate a plan to escape. 

His chance to escape comes in the form of five gunshots that boom through the room— each causing more panic than the last, the people around him bigger cowards than they let on as they immediately fall to the floor or scramble for cover. 

Taehyun is startled but remains alert, his head whipping around and meeting the eyes of someone who was more than used to coming to unorthodox places to wrangle Beomgyu out of danger. 

He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you angrier as you point a gun towards the ceiling, your jaw clenched and your face confronted into a nasty glare as rubble falls around you. 

“Get down,” you seethe, sweeping your gun through the area as you watch everyone cower at the sight, eyes pointed at those who try to get back up to escape, “I said get the fuck down!” 

The place seems to grow still the moment you put your finger back on the trigger, the startled yelps of those hiding the only thing that you can hear as you begin to walk forward; your gaze only darkens more at the sight of Beomgyu slumped in Taehyun’s arms. 

“___, so nice to see you back here,” Minho smiles, attempting to charm you with an innocent tilt of his head, “What brings you to this place?”

“Let them go, Minho,” you warn, raising your gun towards him as he simply puts his hands up in surrender— yet, the mischievous smile and his unphased body language tell you otherwise.

“And why should I?” He asks carefully, eyes flickering over to where Beomgyu barely remains standing, Taehyun attempting to put all his strength into stopping the blood flow of his wound, “They wronged me, and I simply want answers.” 

“Bullshit,” you spit out, jerking your arm as you bring your gun to aim at his head instead, “I have Agust and his men outside. Let them go if you know what’s good for you.” 

The sudden name seems to be enough for Minho to falter, his smile wavering for a second before he’s letting out a deep sigh; rolling his eyes, he takes a moment to think before he’s looking over to Taehyun and Beomgyu. 

“Go.” 

Taehyun doesn’t need to be told twice; he’s making his way over to you without hesitation, struggling to step over the cowering bodies as Beomgyu clings to him like a ragdoll— you’re immediately pulling the two behind you before you’re jerking your head back to the exit, walking backwards as you keep your gun aimed at Minho in warning. 

“You’ll be back soon,” Minho grins, his eyes alight with something mischievous and dangerous as he lets his arms down slowly, “just you wait.”

Your free hand reaches for the heavy metal door, your eyes narrowing at his words as he waits for you to say something; in response, you spit at him, slamming the door behind you before you’re ushering Taehyun to hurry up.

“I fucking told you, I can’t fucking believe this,” you mutter under your breath, shoving the gun in your back pocket before you’re taking Beomgyu from Taehyun, slinging his arm over your shoulder as you spot Taehyun staggering behind in exhaustion. 

“Hurry up before I leave your ass here!” You yell, now at the top of the stairs as you meet eyes with the one person you now owed your life to. 

“Shit, you really weren’t messing around,” Yoongi says, his eyes widening as he takes sight of the unconscious man you carry with you. With a snap, his men take him from your arms, carrying him over to the backseat of Yoongi’s car before he’s gesturing for you to get in, Taehyun following close behind.

“We need to get him to the hospital, now,” you stress, unsure of how much Beomgyu was bleeding out before you got there; from his pale sweaty skin and slow, shuddering breaths, you know it’s best to act fast and ask questions later. 

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” is all Yoongi says, gesturing towards his men as they all begin to scatter, more than ready to speed off into the streets as he yells at Taehyun to put pressure on Beomgyu’s wound.

Pressed against the seat, you can’t ignore the way your head aches and your eyes sting with the threat of tears, unsure of what you’ll tell Beomgyu’s mother the moment he gets checked in the hospital. 

Silently, you reach over to Yoongi, grabbing his hand as you let out a soft thank you. In turn, he squeezes your hand in reassurance, his foot pressing down on the gas pedal as he takes in the anxiety that rolls off you in waves. 

⊹⊹⊹

The hospital is cold and unwelcoming. 

You’re in the waiting room, unable to stop yourself from pacing as Yoongi remains by your side; Taehyun lingers nearby, his gaze downcast and glued to the floor from the moment Beomgyu was taken away by paramedics. 

Your fingers dig into your arms as you sigh for the upteenth time; your gaze falls on Taehyun, your jaw clenching as you take him in— his head is downcast and he remains hunched over in his seat, his elbows propped on his knees as he hangs his head. But even from there, your eyes are able to look over the way his clothes are drenched with blood, his knuckles turning white as he clasps his hands together tightly. 

“Excuse me, are you Choi Beomgyu’s guardian?” The three of you are quick to turn at the meek nurse that approaches you, her hands folded politely as you take initiative to step towards her; nodding, you watch as she sighs, her face unreadable under the medical mask she wears. 

“I’m sorry to inform you that Choi Beomgyu’s wound was quite severe, and he lost a significant amount of blood.” You can feel Yoongi grasp at your arm as you exhale slowly, feeling yourself become unstable as your mouth falls open in disbelief, “We were able to stop the bleeding, but we’ve noticed that his wound has shown signs of infection; due to this, his condition is still critical— He is currently in the intensive care unit, and we are doing everything we can to stabilize him; Unfortunately, only immediate family can visit at this time.”

She lingers for a moment as she waits for you to say something, but you’re only able to muster enough energy to nod politely, ripping your arm out of Yoongi’s grasp before you’re stumbling outside— the said man is hot on your trail as he keeps a close eye on you, his quiet presence enough reassurance that he’s there if you need him. 

Your hands are shaking horribly as you shove them in your pockets; your head hurts, and you feel sick to your stomach as you lean against the hospital walls, your head banging softly against the concrete wall as your pockets fish for something to distract you; Yoongi is quick to guess as he reaches into his own jacket, pulling out a cigarette and placing it in between your lips before he’s lighting it for you. 

“He’ll be okay,” Yoongi reassures you, watching with narrowed eyes as you take a slow drag from the cigarette, “he’s a strong kid— in good hands, too.”

“I know he’ll be okay,” you grit out, sighing softly as you watch the smoke escape from your lips and disappear into the night sky, “he has to be.”

Your worries don’t lie entirely on his health; his recovery will be slow and tedious, but you’ll do anything if it ensures Beomgyu’s safety— the problem, however, lies on how much it’ll cost to ensure his recovery. 

With the treatments and antibiotics the doctors were currently giving Beomgyu, you’re sure Ms. Choi would break down at the sight of the bill; running a restaurant on her own can only do so much, and you’re sure as hell not blind to the reasons as to why Beomgyu took up fighting in the first place, witness to the way he would leave his prize money before her in hopes that it would take care of the monthly bills. 

A prize from the tournament at FightX would’ve been enough to have Ms. Choi closing the restaurant for a while and going on vacation— Beomgyu’s motivations slowly start clicking together in your head as you scoff, taking another drag from the cigarette in your hand as you feel the way your head begins to ache; the last thing you’ll do is have Ms. Choi worry about the bills.

“His mother,” Yoongi starts softly, interrupting your thoughts as he practically reads your mind, “are you gonna tell her?”

You take a moment before you answer, watching as Yoongi leans against the wall next to you patiently; flicking the ashes off your cigarette, you bite your lip, frowning in frustration as you sigh slowly. 

“I have to,” you say, your mind already wracking for ways you could deliver the news to his mother, “she’s already worried enough as it is.”

Pulling your phone out, you turn it on to show Yoongi your screen; an onslaught of missed calls and text messages greet you, all from Beomgyu’s mother as you wince at the escalation of the contents— all of them asking if you’re alright, if you know where Beomgyu might have run off to. 

“She’s already onto me,” you laugh softly, though it feels more forced than anything as you watch your screen light up again, her contact name taking over the screen as you take a second to look at it; with one last drag from your cigarette, you exhale, accepting the call as you drop the item and grind it into the ground, wincing slightly as Ms. Choi’s alarmed voice fills your ears. 

“Yes Ms. Choi, I’ve found him.” You look beyond exhausted as Taehyun watches from afar, only able to hear your soft voice as you continue to reassure his mother— the guilt that was plaguing Taehyun’s mind only comes back stronger as he watches you deliver the awaited news tensely, the words awkward in your mouth as you visibly flinch— only to quickly tell Beomgyu’s mother that he’s safe and there’s nothing to worry about. 

“We’re still here. I’ll wait for you, don’t worry.” Your voice is soft and calming as you speak, a stark contrast to what Taehyun saw earlier— he shivers at the thought, eyes widening slightly as they meet yours— stiffening, he can’t help how tense he feels as you gesture for him to come to him. 

It’s silent as Taehyun walks to you; tucking your phone into your back pocket, your eyes narrow at the sight of Taehyun walking towards you, as though his tail were tucked in between his legs as he refuses to meet your gaze. The sight is enough to have you angered again as you cross your arms, pushing yourself off the wall as you dig your fingers into your biceps, teeth gritting as you attempt to keep your voice steady as you speak. 

“What the hell happened back there? How did this all start?” You ask, your gaze intense as Taehyun forces himself to meet it; you look beyond furious as you wait for him to respond, Yoongi surveying carefully over your shoulder, the sight oddly intimidating as Taehyun begins to recount everything that happened. 

“The match was rigged— you weren’t even supposed to be there,” you conclude, looking over your shoulder to see Yoongi agreeing, “who was invited there?” 

“It was me,” Taehyun says, not an ounce of hesitation in his answer as he watches your eyes widen at the news, “It was all my idea, I thought it’d give us a bigger chance to win the prize money— I… I was the one who got the invite.”

Taehyun isn’t entirely sure as to why he just took all the blame for Beomgyu; maybe it was his guilty conscience, or the way that he knew if he told the truth, Beomgyu would be in more trouble than he already was— yet a small part of him seems to regret it as he watches the way your eyes widen, unable to stop yourself as Taehyun’s head jerks to the side— his cheek stings at the impact of your palm, but he doesn’t find himself to be angered by it as he remains silent. 

“This— this is all your fault?” You say, incredulous as you begin to pace again— whether it’s to hold yourself back from hitting Taehyun again or to process everything, he isn’t sure— “Do you have any idea the shit you just got us involved in?”

From the way Taehyun stares at you, his brows furrowed in concern, it’s clear the answer is no.

“Do you know how much it’ll cost for Beomgyu’s treatment? He could’ve fucking died!” The fact that Beomgyu still stepped foot in the underground club despite knowing the dangers of it isn’t lost on you— if anything, it angers you more, feeling as though he took everything you told him and went through as a joke, teeth gritting together at the thought of it, “his mother can’t afford something like this, do you realize how terrified she is to hear her son is in the ICU?”

“The money from the tournament,” Taehyun interrupts, watching the way you pause in your steps before he continues, “we can just use that— it’s more than enough.”

You remain silent— all you can do is stare at Taehyun for a second, eyes narrowing at him before you shake your head; bitterly, you smile, tilting your head as you cross your arms defensively once more. 

“Did you finish the tournament?” You ask, watching as Taehyun slowly shakes his head, “did you win?”

“No— it was just me and Beomgyu left anyway—”

“Did you win?” You repeat, your voice much more stern as you take a step closer to Taehyun; he can feel his heart sinking as he takes in your close proximity, your expression serious as he feels the realization dawn on him as well, “did you stay in the cage, did you hear them announce you as the winner?”

You both know the answer to your question; Taehyun’s voice is barely above a whisper as he speaks. 

“No.”

“No,” you echo, hands falling to your sides, the burst of emotions from earlier taking a toll on you and leaving your voice quiet and tired as you continue, “They might as well call it a forfeit from your part.”

“The prize money is still their’s, and they’ll even hold another tournament while they’re at it.”

Backing away, you glance at Yoongi before gesturing for him to give you another cigarette; the lighter is the only thing that illuminates your face for a second, your eyes tired and angry as they flicker back up to meet Taehyun’s.

“Unless you want to go back and win it, you’re no use here.”

You refuse to talk to Taehyun any further as you turn your back to him; the smoke that escapes from your figure is oddly soothing as Taehyun lingers by your side, lost in thought as he leans against the wall; feeling a set of eyes searing into his skin, he looks up, meeting Yoongi’s curious gaze, watching as he tilts his head before he finally speaks to the younger man. 

“Who sent you that invitation?” Yoongi asks, burying his hands into his jacket pockets as he watches Taehyun intently— the said man pauses, mind thinking back to the name Beomgyu mentioned before he’s uttering it quietly, unsure of himself as he avoids Yoongi’s gaze. 

“Choi Yeonjun.” Taehyun is surprised to find both of you reacting, watching as your shoulders shake with quiet laughter, head turning to Yoongi who simply sends you a knowing look; the two of you shake your heads in dismay, leaving Taehyun to wonder if he said the wrong name as he watches Yoongi let out a deep sigh. 

“That explains it,” Yoongi mutters, taking the cigarette from your hands before he’s taking a drag of it himself; he’s blowing the smoke out to the side before he finally decides to give Taehyun more context, the sight of the man staring at him bringing him amusement as his lips twinge into a small smile. 

“You and Yeonjun, were you guys close?” Taehyun slowly shakes his head at the question, making Yoongi scoff— he wonders why the older man seems to be making such a big deal about this person, but the heavy feeling in his gut tells him it’s nothing good, “Makes sense— thought you had a death wish or something.” 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Taehyun asks, tired of being left out in the dark from the way Yoongi refuses to give proper context; he can’t help the way he straightens slightly as you turn back around to face him, your gaze still full of anger as you glare at Taehyun. 

“That invitation was a setup,” you begin, brow raising at the way Taehyun’s mouth falls open in surprise, “Choi Yeonjun was exposed as a rat years ago; he was working with police to try and get the club shutdown, greedy for money— didn’t exactly end well for him.” 

It all seems to make sense now; the hostility whenever either boys mentioned the man, the danger it wound them up in— Taehyun tries to keep a straight face at the news, but it’s difficult to do as you grow quiet, surveying Taehyun carefully as you take a step closer to him; then another, and another until you’re eerily close to him, attempting to analyze everything about him before you’re tutting softly. 

“But why he would send an invite to you, I have no idea— let alone how he got a spot in the bracket— what’d he tell you, anyway?” your questions are enough to have Taehyun gulping softly; hell, how was he supposed to know any of this? Yet, as far as you were concerned, Taehyun was the only one who was in contact with the man. 

“Nothing much,” Taehyun replies, hoping you can’t see through his lies as he stares straight into your eyes, “it came in the mail— just told me he secured two spots.” 

“Think about it,” Yoongi says, diverting your attention away from Taehyun for a second— he can feel himself relax slightly, free from your intense gaze as you turn to look at your friend, “Why else would he try to get involved with FightX again? And through other fighters, on top of that.”

“He might be trying to get back in the scene,”  you say, seemingly coming to a conclusion before Taehyun can as your face lightens up; first, with confusion, then with amusement as a smile tugs at your lips. Turning back to Taehyun, you can’t help but laugh slightly in disbelief, “The prize money probably wasn’t going to be yours to begin with.”

Still a rat, hmm, you mutter, the smile on your face contradictory to the way you bite your lip in irritation; the laugh you let out isn’t very convincing either, and Yoongi can only roll his eyes at your antics as he’s leaning against the wall once more, taking a slow drag from the cigarette in his hand before he’s flicking off the ash absentmindedly. 

“How do you know all this?” Taehyun asks, the question hitting him suddenly as he takes a good look at the people before him; a restaurant worker and a man who seemed to be involved in shadier things than he let on— his curiosity laid more on you, taking in the way you seemed unphased by his question, “who are you guys?” 

That’s enough for you and Yoongi to share a bewildered look; it takes a second before you’re both laughing, amused at his words as you allow Yoongi to answer.

“Kid, you’re looking at the two old champions of FightX,” Yoongi smiles, eyes creasing as Taehyun takes notice of the scar that runs through one of them, “We’re the only fucking reason that club survived for so long.” 

Taehyun’s look of bewilderment is the only thing to have you cracking a genuine smile; rolling your eyes, you huff as his eyes land on you, observing you for a moment before he frowns in confusion.

“You’re a fighter?” Taehyun asks, watching as the two of you nod without hesitation, “Makes sense.” 

“Alright you little prick,” you seethe, eye twitching at his witty comment, “I know you have a smart fucking mouth, but I still can’t get used to it.” 

You feel as though you might show Taehyun some of your moves when he simply cracks an innocent smile at you— only to stop, the sound of hurried steps and the loud yell of your name making the three of you turn towards the sound. 

Ah, you hear Yoongi mumble behind you, dropping his cigarette and snuffing it out before Ms. Choi can pick up on it; the tense smiles the two of you sport quickly has Taehyun doing the same, shuffling back until he’s covered behind Yoongi— from the corner of your eye, you see the younger man cross his arms awkwardly, attempting to cover his blood-soaked clothes as he keeps his head ducked down. 

Ms. Choi is a wreck; you’re able to pick up on it easily, the light that leaks out from within highlighting her features that are soaked with worry and stress; her face is pulled into a frown and her eyes threaten to leak with tears as she stumbles to a stop before you. 

Her expression is unreadable; you’re unsure of how she might react or what she might do, but you wouldn’t blame her if she lashed out any of her anger on you— jolting, you’re taken aback by the way she practically leaps on you, arms caging you in a bone crushing hug as she buries her head into your shoulder— the sounds of her sniffles are enough to have you snapping out of your frozen state, arms coming up to hold the woman tightly in return. 

“I’m so glad you’re safe,” she mutters, her hands gripping onto your clothes at the reminder, “I’m so glad he’s alive.”

“He’s safe, Ms. Choi. He’s okay, he’ll recover in no time,” your reassurance is soft and endless as you pat her back, allowing her to cry freely into your arms as you give her a moment to recollect herself— sniffing, she pulls away, wiping at her eyes before her gaze falls on Yoongi. 

“Ma’am,” Yoongi nods, his face tense as he awaits for her to say something; his face mirrors your own as he’s pulled into a hug, eyes widening and posture stiffening before he slowly returns the gesture.

“Thank you for bringing my son back to me,” she says, pulling away before she reaches up to cup Yoongi’s face; she takes him in, smiling tenderly as she adds, “I’m happy to see you’ve been well.”

Yoongi smiles at her comment; he’s surprised to see that she still remembers him, times spent visiting you at work and pestering you coming to mind as he lets out a soft laugh. 

“They said only immediate family is allowed to visit at this time,” you mutter softly, taking her attention as she turns to face you, “We’ll wait out here for you.”

Taking your hands, she nods; you can see how apologetic she is as she takes a moment to smile reassuringly, telling you that she’ll let you know how he’s doing before she disappears inside— watching her figure retreat, you can’t help but frown after a moment, wondering if she’ll be alright on her own. 

“Fuck,” you sigh, the reality of it all hitting you again as you tilt your head back defeatedly; staring at the night sky, you bury your hands into your pockets, fighting the emotions that threaten to spill over as you speak, “How the fuck am I supposed to handle all this now.” 

“We’ll figure it out,” Yoongi says, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder as he becomes quick to reassure you, “I can help you out, I know some people.”

“No Yoongi,” you quickly say, shrugging off his shoulder as you send him a stern look, “I don’t want you to get involved in any shady stuff over this— I got this, you don’t need to worry.” 

Your argument continues to go back and forth for a while— Taehyun feels insanely awkward as he’s forced to watch, unsure of what to do as he wonders if it’s just best to sneak away and go back inside— after what seems like ten minutes, he realizes he’s had enough as he goes to butt in. 

“Let’s just win that stupid thing back,” Taehyun blurts out, stopping the both of you in your tracks as you slowly turn to look at him, “you said they’d probably hold another tournament, no? We’ll just win it back through there.”

“Are you—?” you cut yourself off as you place a hand over your mouth, running it down in frustration before you’re starting again, “You were invited to that place by Choi Yeonjun, a fucking rat. You really think they’d just let you waltz back in and join?”

“Minho—” Taehyun says, pausing for a moment as he frowns, thinking back to what the owner of the place said, “You’ll be back soon. That’s what he said, no?”

“He wants us to come back,” Yoongi realizes, glancing at you as he watches the way your jaw clenches in annoyance, “He knew we’d be back for that damn prize.”

“And what better way to draw in gamblers than with a match after tonight’s show,” you continue, your mind racing with ideas before you’re finally looking back at Taehyun, “But what, how are we supposed to arrange something like this? You seriously think we can just walk in and have a civilized conversation?” 

⊹⊹⊹

“Are you fucking insane?” 

Taehyun’s hushed scolding is enough to have you rolling your eyes, unphased by his reaction as you tug your shirt over your jeans more; shrugging your jacket on, you nod back at Yoongi, who only returns the gesture after he’s zipped his own coat up; you can barely feel the gun that’s tucked into your waistband, but Taehyun is determined to not allow you to forget about it as his eyes fall onto it’s hiding spot every three seconds. 

“It’s rude to stare,” you mumble, slapping Taehyun’s shoulder and forcing him to turn back around; you allow Yoongi to lead the way through the busy streets, the bright alleyways and busy shops entirely inconspicuous as you make your way to a familiar store, entirely empty except for the owner that attends it. 

There are no customers when you enter; The store is packed with products and is poorly lit, and it’s oddly quiet as you walk around; making your way around the aisles swiftly, it almost feels like muscle memory before you’re stopping at the checkout— narrowing your eyes, you’re not surprised to find Minho sitting on a stool behind the register, not bothering to look up from the book he reads as he adjusts his thin wired glasses slightly— leaning on the counter, you clear your throat, raising a brow as you tap your fingers rhythmically on the surface. 

“A win is only official after it is announced by the referee; if both fighters fail to present themselves in the ring, the match is invalid.” Minho doesn’t bother to look up from his book as he speaks; carefully, he reaches to fold the page he’s on, pressing his fingers on the dog-ear meticulously before he’s shutting the book gingerly; placing it on the counter, he finally looks up, smiling sweetly as he does so. 

“But you already know that, don’t you?”

“You’re holding another tournament, aren’t you,” you say, the words coming out as a statement rather than a question.

“Perhaps.”

“We want in,” you can see the way Minho processes your words, his eyes scanning from you to Yoongi before his smile is growing a bit wider; catching onto his thought process, you’re quick to shake your head, reaching behind you and pulling Taehyun roughly as you ignore the way he stumbles forward.

“I mean him. Just him.”

Minho’s smile wavers a little— you can practically see the dollar signs in his eyes decrease slightly, but his expression is still amused as he quickly recalls who the fighter in front of him is; narrowing his eyes, Minho hums, oddly docile as he looks back at you.

“Fine,” to say that it’s unnerving to watch Minho agree so easily is an understatement; you’re sharing a confused look with Yoongi as you watch the way Minho stands from his seat, rounding the counter before he begins to walk away— glancing back at you, he nods to the exit, telling you to follow him before he continues walking. 

Before you can think too hard on it, you’re tugging the two men along; anything to make sure he doesn’t disappear from your sight, you think, but you can’t help but pat yourself down slightly in search of your gun the moment you see where you’re headed. 

“Relax, it’s empty right now,” Minho hums, swinging the door wide open and allowing you to see, smiling in amusement as he takes in the way you remain a few steps back, “I’ve decided that a tournament is just too simple.”

“After the glorious show you put on last night, I knew my patrons would love to see more of your people,” Minho continues, a satisfied look flashing through his features as the three of you finally make your way to his level, peeking through the door cautiously, “and what better way than to skip the bracket and give the public what they want?” 

There’s a single person inside; you’re on guard as you watch them, the dull lights of the place barely allowing you to see them as you squint your eyes; He’s practicing, you realize, watching as he uses the punch bag before him diligently, his sounds of effort reaching you as he continues. 

“One v. One match,” Minho smiles, glancing into the door to see what the man inside is up to; the four of you watch as he does a spin kick, the force from it sending the punching bag flying to the side, the sound of the impact echoing throughout the empty area as you wince at the sight.

The man lets out a huff of exhaustion after; he’s backing up, shaking his body as he steps into the light that emits from a window behind him— pushing his hair back, you’re able to take in his features, your eyes widening as you realize who it is that currently stands before you. 

“Your fighter versus mine— The Cobra.”

The Cobra— otherwise known as Park Jongseong— or rather, Minho’s last apprentice before you left.

“The best of the best, no?” Minho continues, his gaze meeting your own as he smiles knowingly, “you win this, you win everything— no questions asked, no… attacks, on my part.”

You can already hear Yoongi’s thoughts behind you; this is dangerous, this is a horrible, insane idea. 

And you agree— you agree wholeheartedly, hesitating to respond as you take another moment to observe The Cobra— yet it seems as though you’ve taken too long, lost deep in your own thoughts as you fail to account for another, stupid variable. 

“Deal,” Taehyun butts in, leaving you speechless as you’re forced to watch the way he shakes Minho’s hand casually; the older man can only laugh at the action, grinning from ear to ear as his eyes meet yours— his smile only widens more as he takes in your baffled expression.

You find yourself speechless— even when you go back up to discuss the rules and terms of the fight, speechless when Yoongi reluctantly agrees, and speechless when you walk out of the inconspicuous store, your hands clutching tightly onto the paper given to you with the specific details of the match. 

You’re only able to muster up the courage to look at Taehyun once you’ve gotten back in the car safely; he meets your gaze after a moment, brows furrowing as he finds himself annoyed with your dumbstruck expression. 

“What the hell do you want?” 

This stupid boy has no idea what he just got himself into.

⊹⊹⊹

“Three weeks,” you say, pacing back and forth as you find yourself in the last place you would ever want to be; Seokjin’s small fight club is no match to the basement of FightX, but it’s enough for you to train in as you choose to look past the dimly lit area, the natural light that leaks in from the small windows above the only thing that allows you to see properly— Taehyun watches you impatiently, stretching his muscles as he stands by the training equipment in attention, wanting nothing more than to get started already. 

“For the next three weeks, you’ll throw away any plans you’ve made— I expect to see you here everyday for training.”

”Wait, you’re training me?” Taehyun interjects, watching the way you narrow your eyes at him in warning— he looks back to where Yoongi sits, slumped over in his chair as he smiles lazily the moment their eyes meet— then he looks back at you, biting his lip before he continues, “Why not him?”

“Because you want to get trained by the best, no?” Yoongi calls out, already able to see the way you bristle at Taehyun’s comment; the said boy nods, lips pressed together as he takes a moment to observe you again, “Then she’ll be training you. Now watch your mouth before you sweet trainer here decides enough is enough.”

“But the restaurant,” Taehyun backtracks, realizing how his comment may have come off as he speaks, “Won’t you be busy?” 

“Winning that tournament is more important,” you say, not missing a beat as you begin to stretch, “Especially since you agreed to fight The Cobra, of all people.”

“Seriously, why is that a big deal?” Taehyun huffs, rolling his eyes as you signal for him to continue stretching, “the dude can’t be that dangerous.”

“That dude has been in the ring for years,” Yoongi says, catching Taehyun’s attention as he pauses in his movements, “Much longer than you, to be sure.”

“Meaning,” you continue, sighing in dismay at the thought of your next words, “He’s been trained by Minho himself.”

“And us.” 

The sudden revelation is enough to have Taehyun tensing; stomach sinking, he seems to realize why you were so hesitant to agree to this arrangement. 

“Anything we teach you, Park Jongseong has already mastered,” you say, putting on focus mitts before you gesture for Taehyun to come closer, “That’s where you come in— I’ve been praying that you’d be a decent fighter, hoping you’d have some skills of your own we could hone in on.”

Taehyun frowns at your words— you aren’t exactly the most encouraging person he’s met, and he can even feel his confidence dwindling as he stands before you, pausing as he watches you put up your mitted hands— a moment passes and you’re rolling your eyes, scoffing at the way Taehyun seems to be hesitant before you. 

“What are you waiting for?” you scold, your tough voice enough for the man to snap out of his daze; his expression is unreadable as you watch a shift in his form, his hesitation quickly being wiped off as he takes a step toward you— his stance is shifting, and you watch with delight as his eyes turn dangerous, honing in on your mitts as he brings his fists up. 

Let’s see what you got. 

⊹⊹⊹ 

“Again.” 

For once, Taehyun begins to realize the consequences of his actions. 

His body is on fire; he feels as though all his strength has escaped him, pushing his hair back for the upteenth time as he winces at the sweat that coats it— you remain unphased, and Taehyun wonders for a second if you have unlimited stamina as you raise your brow at him expectantly. 

His body has yet to become accustomed to this new schedule. He’s gotten used to seeing you every day, reviewing techniques and giving him pointers before you’re giving him a thorough workout; tonight, you’ve decided to focus on his kicks, bringing up many different fighting styles and forcing him to practice on the punching bag that hangs in a nearby corner. 

“Come on, can’t we just take a break? I’ve been at this for—“

“I said again,” you interrupt, glaring at the way Taehyun sends you an irritated look; Taehyun has grown used to your intimidation tactics after spending more time with you than should be considered normal, your once terrifying anger nothing more than something Taehyun has to put up with as he sighs— he still knows better than to go against you, though.

And so, he does exactly what you taught him— though it’s sloppy, and he knows he’ll get an earful as he executes the kick weakly— though, he personally blames your refusal to give him a proper break for his actions.  

“Have you not been paying attention to anything I’ve been saying?” you ask, exasperated as you make your way to him; standing next to him, you gesture for him to step aside, getting in front of the punching bag yourself before you’re getting into the proper stance. 

“I need you to remember to swing your hips; like this,” stepping forward with your right foot, you extend your left leg slowly, twisting your hips along with the motion as you freeze, gesturing to your hips, “If you don’t, your kick won’t be as powerful; you need to put your whole body into it, not just your leg.”

Stepping back, you demonstrate again, pushing through the rest of the kick as you listen to the thud that echoes from your move— Taehyun can’t help the way his eyes widen as he watches the punching bag swing back and forth, analyzing your form before another thought is popping into his head. 

“That kick,” Taehyun mumbles, switching spots with you as he begins to envision what you just did, trying to get his body to recreate it before he pauses, “Beomgyu did that— he used that move all the time.” 

“Yeah? Glad he finally got it right,” you sigh, unfazed by his words as you cross your arms, smiling in amusement— Taehyun turns to look at you, frowning in confusion as you practically read his mind, “Hey, if I can’t stop that idiot from sneaking off to this place, I might as well make sure he doesn’t die.”

The laugh you let out after is tense and bittersweet; Beomgyu was doing much better now, but he remained in the hospital due to complications from the infection of his wound— you were given the news that he would most likely need physical therapy as well, the sound of it only motivating you to work harder after you watched the way Ms. Choi paled with the news. 

“He almost knocked you out with it? Holy shit,” you laugh, incredulous as Taehyun tells you the details of his first encounter with the boy— the proud smile that spreads across your face catches Taehyun off guard, your eyes twinkling with delight as you gesture back to the punching bag. “Don’t you wanna get as good as him? Come on, show me you’re not all talk.”

The sudden comparison to Beomgyu has Taehyun bristling with annoyance, rolling his eyes as he reluctantly follows your words— a strange, nagging feeling manifests within his mind, telling him to prove himself and dispel all your worries about him as a fighter— it motivates him, taking a deep breath before he’s getting into the proper stance; closing his eyes, he envisions his body following the same movement path you did, eyes zeroing in on the punching bag before him as he finally executes the kick. 

“There we go,” you hiss, an excited grin spreading on your face as you listen to the impact of Taehyun’s kick— though it’s too early for the said man to celebrate, his eyes lighting up for a second before you’re back to pester him for pointers. 

“You need to stay light on your feet,” you remind him, rolling your eyes at the way he tries to interfere with your comment, telling you that it’s because I’m exhausted, “Do you think Jongseong will care if you’re tired? You think he’s gonna go easy on you if you start bitching at him the way you are now?”

“There’s no need for you to be such a bitch, either,” Taehyun sneers, getting back into stance as he watches the way you remain unfazed by his comment. 

“Maybe I’ll start being nice once you prove to be useful.” you mutter, and Taehyun swears the anger that courses through him fuels his kick as he feels his body twisting with energy— so much energy that he’s losing his footing, the impact that booms from his move much louder than his previous attempts as he stumbles back— from the corner of his eyes, he sees the way your eyes widen slightly at the sight.

“Not bad,” you say, tilting your head as you study Taehyun for a second; he’s exhausted and soaked with sweat, his eyes filled with pure anger and frustration you might just think he’ll fight you instead— the thought is enough to have you stifling a laugh, your lips twitching slightly before you’re snapping back to reality. 

“You need to practice your balance if you’re gonna use your body like that,” humming softly, you think for a second, brows furrowing as you continue, “if anything, you should try some spinning hook kicks— that could improve your balance great—”

“You’re here again?” the voice that yells out from the entrance has you startled for a second, turning around before you’re groaning in frustration; you’re leaving Taehyun’s side immediately as you go to the source of the sound— Seokjin seems to be just as annoyed as you are, turning on the rest of the lights with an irritated look on his face. 

“You know why we’re here, Seokjin,” you say, yet the reminder of your reasoning doesn’t seem to be enough for the man, watching as he shakes his head in disapproval. 

“You know I have a club to run, right?” it’s clear you’ve given up as you mutter a yeah yeah, softly, pouting like a child to the older man, “I can’t have this place running while you’re training that poor kid to death.”

“My regimen has results.” you say defensively, glaring at Seokjin, who simply puts up his hands in defeat, unphased by your attitude as he glances back at Taehyun.

“He looks like he’s about to pass out.” 

Following Seokjin’s line of sight, you find yourself wincing; it seems that you’ve only now gotten a good look at the man, watching the way he’s already slumped down at the bench nearby, his chest heaving with shallow breaths and his eyes fluttering as he holds onto his water bottle tightly— frowning, you listen to the way Seokjin quietly asks you how long have you been in here today? your mind going back to the hours you’ve spent cooped inside this building— not to mention day after day. 

“Go back to opening this place,” you sigh, rolling your eyes at the way Seokjin smiles triumphantly— the guilt you feel is odd as you approach Taehyun, standing by awkwardly as you watch the way he doesn’t even acknowledge you, much too tired to even open his eyes. 

“Hey. Don’t pass out on me,” you say, slapping Taehyun’s bicep and watching as he startles awake— his eyes meet yours, wincing at the sudden increase of light as he squints up at you.

“We’re done for today. Let’s go,” you mutter, unsure of what else to do as you give Taehyun a helping hand; he observes it for a moment, oddly skeptical before he finally takes it— his skin is surprisingly soft for having the hands of a fighter, though you try not to let it show on your face as you help him up; the groan of exertion he lets out isn’t lost on you, and you’re surprised to find yourself feeling bad for doing this to him. 

A pitch black night greets you the moment you’re exiting the building, yelling one last goodbye to Seokjin before you’re closing the door behind you— you can hear Taehyun softly grumble about having to climb way too many stairs, and you can only let out a huff in amusement before you’re linking an arm with him for support.

“Come on tiger, don’t let a set of stairs knock you out,” you mock, ignoring his angered rebuttals that he can barely slur out— you’ve really done a number on him today, you realize, the witty man beside you reduced to nothing more than a slumped figure as he continues to complain under his breath, leaving you unfazed the moment he tries to complain about your routines again. 

“Don’t make me regret what I’m about to do for you,” is all you say in response, leading him to your car as you ignore his protests that he just wants to go home, “It’s been hours since you’ve eaten— come on, let’s go see Beomgyu, I bet he’s going insane from the hospital food.”

You’re not sure if it’s the sound of food or the mention of Beomgyu that has Taehyun perking up with interest, but you’re rolling your eyes at him nonetheless as you’re starting your car; driving towards Ms. Choi’s restaurant, you’re guessing it’s the former as Taehyun tells you that all he wants at the moment is some simple ramen. 

The drive is calming— Taehyun doesn’t seem as annoying to you anymore, but a glance at him makes you realize it’s only because he’s knocked out in your passenger’s seat, completely silent save for his occasional shifting to get more comfortable.

Now this is a side of him you like. 

⊹⊹⊹

Seokjin’s words seem to have affected you more than you’d like to admit. 

At least, they definitely have if it’s enough to have Taehyun staring at you as though you’ve gone mad, feeling a strange heat rush to your cheeks as you press your lips together awkwardly. 

“Are you messing with me?” 

“No. Unless you want to go back to the usual,” you snap, and Taehyun can only put his hands up in surrender as he bows his head down; your proposal to have a rest day feels odd to Taehyun, even more so when you’ve already managed to drag the man all the way to the club.

“What’re we even doing here then?”

“There’s less than a week left before the match,” you sigh, feeling your phone buzz in your back pocket as you pause to check the message— you feel your shoulders slump with relief as you’re answering, glancing up at Taehyun, who was already watching you curiously.

“While you have shown improvement in your techniques, there’s still more you could improve on,” your sentence is interrupted as the sound of the door opens, the two of you turning to see who might be coming in— while Taehyun fully expected Jin to burst inside and start complaining, he’s surprised to find something else. 

“I don’t want your body to wear out on me, so I’ll tone down the intensity of your routines as the final day approaches,” you continue, unfazed by the people that begin to approach— Yoongi is casual as he sends the two of you a wave, the woman next to him sending you a cheery nod before her gaze is falling on Taehyun.

“And we’ll work on your fighting IQ instead.” 

One glance at Taehyun is enough to tell you that he has yet to connect the dots; you’re gesturing for the woman next to Yoongi to step forward, bringing her to your side before you’re introducing her— Taehyun notes that the two of you must be good friends, if the way she clings to you happily is enough of a sign. 

“This is Sooyoung,” you say, and the woman next to you— Sooyoung— simply smiles, her eyes creasing and her face lighting up as she sends Taehyun a friendly wave, “Sooyoung, Taehyun.”

“So he’s the reckless boy you were telling me about?” Sooyoung asks, tinted lips pursing as she stares Taehyun down— the nickname is enough to have Taehyun’s gaze hardening, sending the woman a harsh look that only makes her laugh— the woman’s bubbly attitude feels far more patronizing than genuine as she tilts her head like a puppy. 

“I do see potential,” she murmurs, lost in thought for a second before she’s snapping out of it— turning to Yoongi, she practically bounces over to him, and it isn’t until then that Taehyun takes in the duffle bag that the man carried in with him. 

“The locker rooms are back there, right?” Sooyoung asks, looking at you expectantly before you’re sending her a nod of confirmation. Cool. Be right back! she says, skipping away with the duffle bag, her long dark hair swaying behind her as Taehyun’s mouth falls open at his words.

“Is she— am I fighting her?” Taehyun breathes out, a bit skeptical as he looks at you in bewilderment. All he gets in return is the usual roll of your eyes, unable to hold back your laugh at his stupidity. 

“No dumbass,” You say, reaching up for the zipper of your jacket before you’re tugging it down— it isn’t until you’re shedding the layer off that Taehyun takes in your appearance, your hair tied back and your face turning serious as you begin stretching— he takes note of your hands, wrapped tightly in the wraps he always uses as his brows are jumping up in realization— catching his reaction, you smile. 

“I am.” 

Sooyoung is skipping out of the locker room moments later; it’s hard to not notice her, especially with her bright trunks and wraps that match the rest of her outfit— a bright green, the hair tie that keeps her hair up the exact same color as she makes her way to the cage. 

“You’ll be my coach for this. I’ll only follow your instructions, so you better not get me fucked up,” you explain, joining Sooyoung by the cage before you’re turning back— Taehyun has yet to follow you, his brows furrowed as he waits for you to tell him you’re joking; instead, you’re left unamused as you cross your arms, hissing for him to hurry up and get over here. 

“How is this supposed to help?” Taehyun asks, his gaze following you as you make your way inside; he’s never seen you like this, and though he hates to admit it, you’ve definitely piqued his interest.

“Seriously, are you always like this?” Is all you can say, looking down at Taehyun from where you stand within the cage— Taehyun remains silent, choosing to hold his tongue for once as he simply stares at you in response.

“You’ve never seen The Cobra fight. You don’t know what moves he’ll pull or how to counter them,” you begin, glancing back to the opposite corner; Sooyoung is crouched down in it, speaking to Yoongi through the fence as they throw the occasional look back at you, “You need to learn how to analyze your opponent— their tells, fighting style, go-to moves— everything.”

“Yoongi is coaching Joy in this match; the next match, he’ll be coaching me.” Taehyun finally seems to understand as he looks at Sooyoung— or Joy, as you called her, the strange nickname not going unnoticed by him as he furrows his brows at the sound of it. Yoongi coached Jongseong— so did you. 

Through this match, he’ll get to take a peek into his opponents mind, no matter how miniscule. 

After a minute of discussion, you finally decide to start the first round; Taehyun is oddly anxious as he watches you, your footsteps careful and calculated as you watch Joy, eyes narrowed and dark as you keep your guard up— the said man’s advice runs through your head, knowing you warned him you’d mostly be using his tips as you circle Joy carefully. 

Taehyun realizes why Sooyoung is called Joy; he almost feels unnerved looking at her, the carefree smile and relaxed body language entirely enticing, a perfect trap to lure someone into lowering their guard— but Taehyun knows better than to think lowly of anyone you decide to bring in, her light steps and playful jabs enough to tell him that she’s definitely more calculative than she lets on.

Taehyun’s advice gets you a solid punch to the face and a painful kick to the stomach— it hurts like hell and makes you want to fight properly, but the need to allow Taehyun to improve on his own is nagging as you take the injuries and trudge over after the round is over, eyes pointed at him as though to say now what?

“Don’t look at me like that,” Taehyun hisses, annoyed at the way you already seem to be losing— he knows you can fight, yet the results of the round say otherwise as you stare at him expectantly, enough of a reminder that you currently put all strategies into his hands. 

“Okay, okay,” he sighs, glancing back at the corner Joy and Yoongi currently converse in, “It’s clear that she enjoys taunting you. A lot.”

Taehyun seems to be talking more to himself than anything, thinking back to what he saw as he continues rambling, “But she seems to have this tell— every time she’s going to strike, she smiles a bit— which is fucking creepy— it’s barely there but I’ve noticed it, especially in her eyes.”

His comments have you both impressed and amused; it had taken you quite some time to figure out Joy’s tell when you first met her, so to watch as Taehyun thoroughly breaks down her fighting style is enough to have you listening to him intently. 

“I think she’s aware of it too, because her rear hand always comes a little closer to her face when she does it—” the one-minute timer is up as Yoongi calls you back to the center of the ring, and you’re looking at Taehyun expectantly for one last comment— with his train of thought interrupted, he stumbles over his words, giving up after a moment before he’s waving you off. 

“Just watch her tells. Oh, and avoid her kicks, that looked like it hurt.”

The way you scoff mockingly isn’t lost on Taehyun— but before he can call you out on it, you’re off, the next round starting as Taehyun watches you carefully.

Joy’s tell has become much more obvious to him; it only takes a moment, but he’s able to see every small habit and go-to that Joy has, his mind racing with strategies as he quickly realizes you’re doing the same. Joy is a predictable fighter to you— granted, she was your sparring partner for years— and with Taehyun’s new discovery, you allow yourself to exploit what you know of her and use it to your advantage. 

You’re able to turn the match around with ease— Taehyun isn’t able to fight the way his eyes slowly begin to stray, away from Joy and to you, observing the way you remain focused, your moves precise and strong as he even finds himself wincing at times.

After a moment, Taehyun realizes that he’s seeing you in a new light— literally and figuratively, the spotlights suddenly turned on as someone new walks in— it highlights your features perfectly, and Taehyun is able to see your expression crystal clear, watching as your focus is shattered and you’re looking over at the entrance; the small moment of distraction costs you greatly, and Joy is able to land a punch straight to your nose before you’re falling down. 

You’re placed into a tight chokehold seconds after, still disoriented from the punch as you reluctantly tap out— gasping for air, you’re quickly turning back to the entrance, glaring daggers at Jungkook, who simply smiles at you sheepishly.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, cheeks reddening slightly from the sudden attention, “we’re just getting ready to open soon— you looked really cool though, ___.”

A moment passes before you’re laughing softly at his comment— Taehyun can’t help but wonder what might be going on between you two as Joy pulls you up, calling an early end to the match before you’re both exiting the cage. 

“That was super fun,” Sooyoung hums, watching as you can only agree reluctantly; she coos at your disgruntled state, patting your head and laughing cutely as she apologizes for her harsh blows; turning to Taehyun, her smile widens, and Taehyun is impressed to find a bruise forming on her jawline as she speaks. 

“___ told me you figured out my tells,” she pouts, her tone playful as she crosses her arms, “I seriously thought I finally got past those. Well done.” 

Taehyun feels oddly embarrassed as he nods.

“Let’s continue where we left off tomorrow,” you say, glancing over to where Jungkook busies himself at the bar, ignoring the way all of you seem to observe him for a second before you continue, “Looks like you’re not that useless after all.”

“I think he’ll be okay!” Sooyoung says, a bright smile on her face as she looks at Taehyun happily, “I mean, if you keep going the way you are, you’ll definitely survive!”

The way you and Yoongi snicker makes Taehyun’s jaw clench, rolling his eyes at the way they all constantly patronize him— his lack of response is enough to have Sooyoung apologizing softly, saying that she just loves to tease.

“We should go,” you say, throwing your jacket back on and zipping it up all the way, “they’re opening soon, and I don’t know about you guys, but I don’t wanna be in a place like this any longer.”

Yoongi and Sooyoung agree— they mumble something along the lines of “brings back too many memories,” the words making Taehyun raise a brow as he begins to wonder just how many people you knew from that club. 

Taehyun feels awkward as he watches them leave— it’s just you and him, and he’s forced to stand around awkwardly as he watches you gather your things, reluctant to leave you for reasons he can’t seem to think of. 

“___, you’re not staying?” Jungkook’s soft pout is a stark contrast to the rest of him, decked in full black and piercings that shine under the lights— Taehyun wonders if the bartender is secretly a fighter as well, the muscle that bulges from his arm not remotely subtle, even under the sleeves of his shirt. 

“Nah, I’m too tired. I took a good beating ‘cause of you,'' you say, watching as Jungkook only smiles sheepishly. Your body feels sore and you’re more than ready to go home and rest, but the way Jungkook continues to give you puppy eyes suggests that you might have to fight him off too. 

“I can patch you up,” he says, and you’re rolling your eyes at the way he flutters his eyes at you, “I haven’t seen you in so long— you’re never at the restaurant, you know.”

“Well, I am kinda busy,” you say, nodding softly at Taehyun who, to your surprise, is still at your side. 

Jungkook remains silent for a second. His eyes leave yours as they inspect Taehyun, analyzing the man who simply huffs and crosses his arms in annoyance. Meeting his eyes, Taehyun refuses to back down, raising a brow as he waits for Jungkook to say something to him. 

“Aren’t you tired of being around him all the time?” Jungkook finally speaks, clearly set on ignoring Taehyun as he turns back to you— his smile is seemingly innocent as he leans against the counter, ignoring his duties as he continues to try to get you to stay, “I can bet you I’m more fun to be around than him.”

“Noona,” Taehyun says, his voice stern and clear as speaks. This time, you both turn to him; your shock is clear on your face, eyes wide and confused as your brows knit together, wondering where the sudden formality appeared from. 

“We should go. This place is opening soon,” he says, watching as your mouth opens in an attempt to respond— though you can’t seem to figure out what to say, and Taehyun is quick to roll his eyes and go ahead— with one last glance at Jungkook, you bid him goodbye, feeling oddly tense as you follow Taehyun outside. 

“Shit,” he hears you say, though he doesn’t pay any mind to it as he stands outside— the smell of rain lingers in the air, the city alight and busy even after dark hours— from behind him, he can still hear you mumbling to yourself, your words incoherent and irritated to his ears. 

“You know, if you wanted to stay with that guy you could’ve—“ he’s stopped short by the sight of you, brows furrowed together and a sleeve pressed firmly to your nose as you curse under your breath— though the blood that ran out of your nose still clings to your chin, and you have yet to wipe it off as you continue to complain about the issue quietly, digging in your bag as you ignore Taehyun. 

“Hey, you don’t happen to have tissues, do you—?” 

The answer is a definite no. Taehyun can feel himself acting on impulse— maybe it was because the sight made him cringe, or maybe he was looking out for your safety— but next thing he knows, he’s tugging you along, away from the hidden building and straight to the convenience store a block away. 

“Wait, where are we even going?” You ask, unable to put up much of a fight as you focus on keeping the bleeding under control. Taehyun doesn’t answer, and when you attempt to tug your arm out of his grip, all you get in response is the feeling of his fingers tightening around you. 

“Tissues,” Taehyun mumbles, tugging you into the store without a second thought. 

You feel oddly awkward around him— you’re not used to seeing him like this— he’s quiet, serious and not the same person that’s always trying to piss you off with some ridiculous comment. Instead, he’s oddly tentative, and you find yourself sitting at the table placed outside as you watch him rummage through the bag, pulling out one thing after another as you sit there, pressing the tissue he gave you a bit firmer to your nose. 

“This wasn’t necessary, you know,” you say quietly, eyes narrowing as you observe him carefully— despite your constant reassurance that you didn’t want him to spend on you, you currently watch him eat his instant noodles in silence, your own still covered up and warm while the two of you wait for your nose bleed to die down— though you pretend otherwise, you notice the way he glances at you every other second to see how you’re doing, offering to pour you a bit of soju that you decline with a soft scoff. 

“A ‘thank you’ would suffice,” he comments, his words muffled through a mouthful of noodles— he ignores your scolding to not talk with his mouth full, clicking your tongue in annoyance as you only get a roll of his eyes in return. 

“Yeah…. thanks,” you mutter, barely audible as you take the tissue away from your nose slowly— Taehyun is mid-bite as he freezes, eyes darting up to observe you— and you smile slightly, relieved to feel that your nose bleed is finally gone. 

“Ugh, that was so annoying,” you grumble, wiping at your face for any blood that’s still there; you’re fussing quietly to yourself, unable to notice as Taehyun begins to rummage through his plastic bag once more, finally finding his desired item before he throws it at you, the small packet landing right in front of you unceremoniously. 

“Here,” is all he says, avoiding any more eye-contact as he goes back to eating, the ramen disappearing within seconds from how quickly he eats. 

An odd silence falls between you; the ‘thank you’ you let out is barely audible, your demeanor awkward as you open the packet of wet wipes he tossed at you— he simply nods at you in response, and you find yourself feeling tense as you watch him sit back in his seat, shameless in the way he stares you down, clear in thought as he presses his lips together. 

“Back at the club,” you begin awkwardly, folding the wet tissue in your hands as you speak, “you called me “noona”— the hell was that about? You’re not one for formalities.”

“But you’re older, aren’t you?” Taehyun says, oddly unfazed by your sudden line of questioning, “Thought I might as well start, if we’re spending so much time together.”

“Not even Beomgyu calls me that,” you say, bristling at the way he quotes Jungkook— you feel oddly flustered by the sudden title, even more so when Taehyun simply looks up at you after a moment— his eyes are wide and innocent as he observes you, and slowly, he breaks out into a soft smile. 

“I’m just being polite,” he says, straightening in his seat as he tilts his head, “Noona.”

“Enough of that,” you bark out, gritting your teeth at the way he only grins at your response, “We need to talk strategy— your fight’s a few days away.”

“Right, right,” Taehyun says, chopsticks circling the inside of his bowl as pauses, thinking back to the man he only got a glimpse of in FightX, “Jongseong— what’s he like?” 

The sudden question has you sitting back in your chair, deep in thought as you think back to Jongseong— The Cobra, or the scrawny thirteen-year-old boy that stumbled into Minho’s convenience store by what you thought was an accident. 

“Can you teach me how to fight?” He had asked you, eyes wide and innocent as he stared up at you, a mere sixteen-year-old that worked at Minho’s store as a side hustle. You remembered pretending as though you had no idea what he was talking about, laughing off the way his curious gaze drifted over the pain patches on your shoulders and your bruised knuckles.

“Where’s your mother?” You remembered asking, incredulous at the way he refused to leave or buy anything; instead, he insisted that you teach him to fight, gluing his feet to the floor despite the fact that you chose to ignore any questions he had about you and your secret hobbies. 

“Don’t know,” he admitted casually, and it wasn’t until then that you noticed his roughed up appearance, his face dirtied and bruised, and his hair filled with dirt and twigs, “she doesn’t come home until night time. I’m alone right now.”

“What… happened to your face?” You asked him, leaning on the counter to get a closer look; you remember reaching over to rid his hair of the dirt, watching as he scrunched his face and slapped your hand off in reaction— the sight of him was an eerie mirror of your own before you found Minho, your brows furrowing at the tough front this kid seemed to put up. 

“Some stupid kids at my school,” he brushed you off, running a hand through his hair as he felt the dirtiness of it with a wince; looking back at you, he took in your concerned expression, frowning at the sight as he leaned against the counter. 

“You know,” he says, raising a brow at the way you study his injuries, “If you’re that worried, why don’t you teach me how to fight?”

His proposition caught your attention— his words were reminiscent of your own, years ago, when you stumbled upon Minho’s small club by accident, a sad attempt to find asylum— and suddenly, you found yourself thinking it through. 

“Okay. But just for self-defense.”

“So you practically raised him,” Taehyun says, the very thought of it making you shiver as you shake your head no, your eye twitching at his words, “No? Well, you did train him, right?”

“Well, he trained for a good two years. Yoongi and I trained him for a while since everyone was too busy to deal with another newbie, and Minho…” sighing, you go to open your own instant noodles, now cooled and a bit soggy as you wince slightly at the sight, “Minho had the idea to throw him in the ring after he reached fifteen.”

You still remember his first fight— you remember being strictly against it the moment Minho proposed it, sudden and instant as he quickly escorted Jongseong away from you; you, being freshly out of a match, barely had any energy to fight back properly. 

“This isn’t what he wants. This is too dangerous, Minho,” you remembered telling him, trying to reason with him despite the roaring spectators drowning your voice out. You remembered how Jongseong looked under Minho’s arm; small, skittish and tense, his eyes flicking around the cage in attempts to familiarize himself with the layout as Minho’s fingers only dug deeper into his shoulder. 

“Of course it’s what he wants,” Minho responded, always quick to leave you helpless with the way he towered over you, a Cheshire smile on his lips as his eyes twinkled with a dangerous delight, “Don���t you remember how you were in your first fight? Could barely throw a punch.”

Before you could argue, Minho continued. 

“You know he has potential. What, afraid he’ll steal the spotlight from you and Yoongi?” Jongseong’s eyes flickered to you then— and in that moment, you realized just how long Minho seemed to have prepared him for this moment, the deep breath he took stabilizing him momentarily as Minho leaned down to speak quietly in his ear. 

“Do you know how much money you could make from today’s match?” Minho had told Jongseong sweetly, and the two of them looked over to the other side of the cage, where his opponent waited for him, “It’s your first match— but I’ve given you an easy kill, I know you’ll win.”

An easy kill— that was definitely one way to describe Jongseong’s victory. You watched first hand as the fear drained from Jongseong’s face, replaced with a dangerous gaze that you had never seen before; you watched as he threw perfect jabs, calculated and lethal as he landed hook after hook on his opponent. 

Even now, you can’t help but feel surprised at how protective you got over him— especially when he was sent flying with a kick to the stomach, crashing against the ground and leaving you tense as you watched the way he didn’t move. 

At the memory, you laugh softly— your eyes flicker up to Taehyun’s, your tone grim as you speak. 

“That was his winning move.”

His opponent got sloppy— he let his guard down, approaching Jongseong so casually that the punch he got to the jaw was definitely deserved— and though his body crashed to the floor and Jongseong was able to get the higher ground, he didn’t stop. 

“He doesn’t care if you’re down. He doesn’t care if he’s won,” you grit out, your appetite lost as you stare down at your cold food, the memory of Jongseong landing hit after hit to his weakened opponent making you frown. 

You still remember the look in his eyes as the referee tore him off his opponent; wild and hungry, still lusting for blood as he attempted to shake the authority figure off. Even when his eyes met yours, horrified at the person Jongseong transformed into, he didn’t care, his grin only widening as the referee announced his name, the audience going wild at the way his arm was thrust up in victory.

The spectacle of his lethal fighting style earned him his special nickname; Minho’s triumphant smile left a sick feeling in your stomach, forced to listen to the way the announcers paraded around Jongseong like a killer animal. 

After that day, you watched Jongseong grow into the person he is today; cold, calculated, and borderline murderous. 

“Every time I look at him, I’m reminded of the kid who came to me looking to learn self-defense,” you chuckle dryly, frowning at the memory, “Then I remember who he’s become, and I can’t help but feel responsible for it.”

“When I met Beomgyu through that god-forsaken club, I was reminded of Jongseong,” the sudden revelation has Taehyun listening intently, leaning in to watch as your eyes drift off to the city around you, foggy and reminiscent as you tell him your story. 

“For some reason, I thought that maybe this time, I could prevent him from becoming a monster,” you mutter, leaning your chin into your palm as you sigh, “Though, I don’t think I like this outcome either.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Taehyun quickly interjects, and he flinches slightly at the way your eyes flicker back to meet his, regarding him for a moment before you smile. 

“I know. It was yours.”

He’s not sure how to respond to that; he’s not sure if he should, unsure of what he should say or do as you stare him down silently— after a second, you’re breaking out into a soft laugh, tired and broken up as you wince from the feeling of your bruised ribs.

“I’m just fuckin with you,” you say, sitting up at you take in the way Taehyun visibly relaxes, “You didn’t force Beomgyu to do anything. It was all out of his free will.”

“And I kinda know that you lied about the whole thing being your idea.”

Your confession has Taehyun looking like a deer in headlights— it’s enough to make you laugh, easing the tense mood as he asks you how you knew.

“I had my suspicions from the very beginning,” you say, pausing for a second before you add cheekily, “And, Beomgyu told me.”

“Ah,” he mumbles, biting his lip as he tries to smile at you, “Sorry I lied.”

“Don’t be. It’s interesting that you chose to cover for him,” you say, returning the awkward smile as you add, “I should be the one sorry. For slapping the shit out of you.”

The two of you laugh— though, it’s a bit tense, and a silence falls between you two after.

“You… met Beomgyu? At that club?” He asks after a moment, watching the way you nod without hesitation. 

“Yeah. He was sixteen, I made sure to kick him out and warn him once I saw how his worried mother came looking for him. And it worked, for like two years. Then…” 

“Then Jin’s club opened.”

You raise a brow at his words, pausing in surprise before you’re nodding slowly. 

“Yeah, then Seokjin’s club opened,” you repeat slowly, frowning at the way he already knew, “Beomgyu found himself involved there, and it wasn’t long before his mother came to FightX looking for him. Jin’s club wasn’t as shady— I mean, compared to FightX, that place was like a church. I knew I didn’t have much to worry about, but I still decided to train him for a while… just to be safe.”

Taehyun sees the way your eyes are filled with nostalgia, a soft smile forming on your face from the memories.

“That’s kinda how I ended up where I am now. I could only drag Beomgyu back to his house so many times before his mother started treating me like family too,” meeting Taehyun’s gaze, you’re surprised to see him listening to you intently— it has you tensing slightly, not realizing how much you’ve revealed about yourself until now. 

“So,” you start, clearing your throat awkwardly from the way Taehyun’s gaze sears into you intensely, “What’s your story? How’d you end up in this scene?” 

“Oh, it’s nothing interesting,” Taehyun waves you off, though you refuse to be the only one delving into their personal life as you press Taehyun for details, “Seriously, it’s pretty normal.”

“Well, tell me anyways,” you say softly, tilting your head as you send Taehyun a challenging look, “Might as well get to know each other, if we’re spending so much time together.”

The way he laughs softly at your mocking comment is slightly contagious— and though you pretend otherwise, you notice the bittersweet look on his face as he reaches for the bottle of soju, pouring himself a shot for the first time in a while before he offers you one; with a slight laugh, you accept it. 

“I got into mma with a friend of mine— gave me lessons, sparred with each other, all that fancy stuff. We were really close, and getting into this hobby together only made us closer,” he laughed softly at his words, his mind filled with memories as he stared down at the table, “And now… Well. He’s not around anymore. Passed away less than a year ago.”

You frown softly at the way he pours himself another shot— the grief on his face is still fresh, you realize, his gaze hardening as he places the shot cup back down. 

“Without him, I felt… lost. I didn’t really know what to do with myself— after a while, I mostly felt angry.” His finger traces around the rim of the cup, slow and steady as he takes a moment to pause, “I hated that feeling. So, I tried finding the next best outlet, and found a few underground clubs. That’s how I met Beomgyu.”

The air is tense from his story; you’ve never been the best at comforting, so you find yourself unsure of what to do. After a moment, Taehyun laughs, taking in your tense expression with amusement, and it’s only then that your eyes fall onto the dimple that digs into his cheeks cutely. 

“God, I’m sure he’d go nuts if he knew the shit I got myself into,” he says, running a hand through his hair as he shakes his head, “I’m not sure if he’d want to stop the fight or get front row seats— hell, probably the latter.”

Taehyun is quick to pick up on the glint of amusement in your eyes— he’s just as quick to reach for the soju bottle and pour the two of you another shot, the air much lighter than it was a moment ago as you watch him give you a bright smile, the sight unusual for you as you find yourself giving him an unsure one in return. 

“We only have three days left,” Taehyun says, bringing his glass up, watching the way you shake your head in amusement, “Let’s keep up the hard work, noona.”

“Don’t call me that.” You grimace, clinking your glass with his before you’re both downing the liquid—though you can’t help the slight smile that tugs at your lips in amusement, watching as Taehyun slowly becomes more open with you as you let him finish the bottle— I have to drive, idiot, you told him with a sneer, pushing the bottle back to him when he pouted that he shouldn’t be drinking alone. 

Taehyun is oddly light—and lightweight— though, not light enough for you to be tugging along back to your car, grimacing at the way he stumbles and knocks into you drunkenly.

“Noona,” he said to you, his words slow as he smiled at the way you snapped at him to not call you that, “Noona, you think I’ll win?”

“Fuck, I hope so,” you grumble, finding your car in the now-filled abandoned parking lot that was close to Jin’s, “It would be a huge fucking waste of time if you didn’t.”

“Okay then,” Taehyun pouts, pushing you away from him and walking off to his own car, only for you to tug him back to your own as you tell him he shouldn’t drive like this, “Why would I wanna be stuck in the car with someone who acts like such a bitch?”

“I act like a bitch because I care,” you bark, opening the car door and shoving him carelessly, only to watch as he turns back to look at you with that same, stupid, patronizing smile. 

“If you say so,” he says, his cheeks a bit flushed as he leans back towards you, “Nooooo...na.”

Your reaction is immediate— he feels as though the punch you land on his arm is enough to sober him, rubbing the sore area with a drunken pout.

“Get in the damn car.”

⊹⊹⊹

You currently stand outside FightX. There’s an hour left before the match.

You pace around in worry, unable to stand still as you hear the ruckus of the club and it’s awaiting patrons inside. Your brows are knitted in a deep frown and you can’t fight the way you bite your lip anxiously as you walk around in restless circles, over and over as you’re left in deep thought. 

“Stop that, you’re making me dizzy,” a voice calls out, snapping you out of your daze as you watch Taehyun walk up with a leisurely smile on his face— the sight is almost unnerving, his mood a complete opposite from yours as you watch him adjust the strap of his bag on his shoulder, taking a moment before he’s standing before you. 

“Aren’t you nervous?” You ask, watching as he simply shakes his head without hesitation, “you’d be stupid not to be— although, that does make sense…”

“Hey,” he says, lips pressed into a line as he frowns at you, “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t degrade me before the match. You’re messing up my concentration.” 

“Right. Of course,” you huff out, looking away and missing the way that Taehyun smiles, taking in your jittery figure with amusement— his expression is immediately dropping the moment you look back at him, and he’s mentally cursing at himself for suddenly being so weird. 

“Are you gonna make me workout before the match or something? Why are we here so early?” He asks, tilting his head and taking in your attire slowly; it’s not what you wear when you train him, but it’s still light and athletic as he raises a brow at your apparel, “I don’t think it’s a good idea to wear my energy out just yet.”

“I’m not making you do anything, I just needed you to be here so you could get into the right mindset.” you say, and your response is enough to leave Taehyun silent as he stares at you; it’s odd, and you find yourself unnerved by his analytic stare. “What? What’s wrong with you now?”

“Are you worried?” He asks, his question sudden as he takes a step toward you— startled, you try your best to remain unfazed, resisting the urge to take a step back as you take in his sudden proximity.

“Worried? About what?” You say, your responses much too curt to seem natural; mentally, you’re cursing at yourself for feeling so odd, unable to hide what you’re thinking as well as you usually are— especially under Taehyun’s scrutinizing gaze. 

“Worried…. That I’ll lose?” He says, leaning in slightly to get a better look at your face; you refuse to pull away, looking into his eyes and keeping your expresion blank despite how close he is— his scent is invading your senses, oddly alluring as you finally get a good look at the man before you, “Or… no.” 

Another pause. You don’t know what Taehyun might say next, but judging by the way his lips twitch with the hint of a smile, you know you won’t like it. 

“Maybe… worried I’ll get hurt?”

Your eye twitches. 

“Hmm. Okay,” he says, quick to catch your small reaction as he backs away, a smug smile on his face— you frown, wondering what he might be insinuating as you send him an incredulous look. 

“Okay? Okay what?” You say, watching as Taehyun chooses to remain silent— his sudden refusal to speak to you has you far more annoyed than you’d like, slapping his arm and telling him to look at you, irked by the way he deliberately ignores your request and looks around in wonder, “Okay what? Of course I’m concerned!” 

Your sudden confession has Taehyun’s gaze snapping back to yours. 

“If The Cobra takes you out, we lose. And if we lose,” you pause, taking in Taehyun’s expression— he’s bewildered, mouth slightly parted as he listens to your irritated words— “If we lose… seriously, will you stop looking at me like that?”

“If we lose…” he repeats slowly, and your frown only deepens in response, “You said we.” 

“Yeah…?”

“You’re… coaching me?” 

“No, I’m getting front row seats and betting against you,” you scoff, rolling your eyes and smacking Taehyun’s bicep in annoyance, “Yes, I’m coaching you. Wouldn’t be here wasting my time if I wasn’t.”

The way Taehyun’s eyes are sparkling under the lights is slightly creepy— you don’t think you’ve even seen such a genuine expression on him before, and you can only take a step back in uncertainty as Taehyun smiles at you; a genuine, soft smile. 

“Right, it’s just…” he pauses, clearing his throat before he’s reaching towards you to return the hit you gave him moments ago— though it’s a bit stiff, and you’re raising a brow at the action as you watch Taehyun carefully, “Haven’t had a coach in a while.”

Oh.

You’re sure the thought shows on your face, the reminder of Taehyun’s past life coming back to the forefront of your mind with a slight pang of guilt— though Taehyun doesn’t let you dwell on it, making fun of your face and prodding at you with enough annoying comments that you have to meditating to not slap the shit out of him. 

“If you don’t shut up, I’ll beat you before your match even starts,” you hiss, your threat enough of an incentive to get him off your back, “Yoongi and Sooyoung are coming as well. We’ll wait for them before we go in.”

“Are they really?” Taehyun asks, and you simply nod in response— the thought of Sooyoung watching him fight wasn’t exactly pleasant, and he finds himself thinking back to the nickname you gave her in the ring, “Joy… what an odd name. Did you ever get a title back here? I don’t think you ever mentioned it.”

“Because I didn’t have one,” you huff, rolling your eyes at the way he seems surprised by that, “My name was enough intimidation for them.”

Wowww, Taehyun cooed, the patronizing gesture enough to have you reaching to smack him on instinct— though it seems as though your move was too predictable for him, flinching out of the way with ease and continuing to send you that stupid smug smile, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he continued to try and provoke you. 

“If you two are done with this weird tension, we’d like to go in now,” the look Yoongi sends you is enough to have your face heating up with embarrassment, unsure of what he might mean with his words as you shake your head in annoyance— grabbing Taehyun’s elbow, you lead him down the steps, watching as Yoongi and Sooyoung follow behind with teasing eyes. 

“Yoongi, did you have to bring your men along? It’s already crowded enough in there as it is,” you groan, your head beginning to ache at the sight of the packed club— Yoongi simply scoffs, telling you better safe than sorry as he gestures for the two of you to go inside. 

“Go find Minho,” Yoongi nudges you, and you nod firmly at his words, “Make sure to let him know we are also here.”

If you insist, you mumble, ready to go off before you feel Sooyoung grab onto your elbow, tugging you back to get your attention— the moment your eyes meet, she sends you a bright smile, pairing it with a thumbs up as she squeezes your arm in reassurance.

“You got this!” She says, letting you go and watching as you weave through the crowd with Taehyun in tow. 

“You think we’ll win?” Yoongi mutters in Sooyoung’s ear, watching the way her smile tenses a bit. 

“I prayed a little yesterday.”

⊹⊹⊹

“…from what I remember, he’s very straightforward; very serious— spends a good couple of minutes gauging what kind of fighter you are before he strikes. I need you to be careful during this match, okay? Fight with your brain, not just your fists.”

You’ve been talking Taehyun’s ear off for an impressively long time. Taehyun didn’t think it was possible to see you like this, restless and fidgety as you followed him into the locker to give him a pep talk. There was ten minutes left before the fight.

“Relax, I got this,” Taehyun says, and he’s greeted with an unamused look of yours in return, “I didn’t watch you and Joy beat the hell out of each other for nothing, you know.”

The mention of your matches with Sooyoung is enough to have you cringing; while it was good for Taehyun to get a grasp of what you and Yoongi might’ve taught Jongseong and vice-versa, it wasn’t as good to leave sore after each training day you spent with him.

“Can’t believe I did that,” you mutter to yourself, leaning against the lockers behind you in dismay. Though by the way you can hear Taehyun laugh at you mockingly, you know he picked up on it as well. 

“You care more than you let on, noona,” he smiles, your eye twitching at the name; you have yet to get used to this sudden formality, and Taehyun is clearly taking advantage of it, judging by the way his smile only widens with your every reaction. 

“Noona?” The source of the voice is from someone you’d never forget; both you and Taehyun are looking over at the entrance in an instant, and you can feel your eyes widen as you take in the way Jongseong stands there, much more grown than the last time you saw him. 

“Oh. Hi,” you grit out awkwardly, cringing at how tense you sound.

“Hi? Is that all you have to say?” He asks, walking toward you without hesitation; his hair is black and slicked back neatly, a stark contrast to the messy brown hair he could never bother to style when he was younger, “it’s been three years, you disappeared without a trace!”

You’re not sure what he’s going to do as he approaches you in a hurry— hug you, maybe— because he pauses, taking in the sight of Taehyun sitting in front of you, his eyes narrowing as he takes a moment to take the man in.

“You’re…” he pauses, brows furrowing as he goes deep in thought for a second, “Taehyun.”

Taehyun’s name falls from his lips with pure disdain; Jongseong is looking between you and him, his face dropping with disappointment as everything begins to click together in his mind.

“I was hoping Minho was lying,” Jongseong mutters, taking a step back from you as he meets your eyes; he no longer holds the same, wide and nostalgic gaze that greeted you when you first saw him. Instead, it’s cold and scathing, a reflection of the dangerous man you’re preparing Taehyun to face in the ring. 

“You’re coaching him, then?” He asks, and all you can do is nod as you take in the anger in his eyes, wondering what lies Minho has been feeding him to look at Taehyun with such hatred, “I see.”

He’s backing away from you. You feel as though you’re losing him all over again as you watch his eyes turn to you, filled with nothing but restless anger as he sends you a vicious smile. 

“Try not to lose another one, noona,” he says, feigning a pout as he takes in the way your jaw clenches at his words. His eyes flicker over to Taehyun, pleased to find that his jab seems to have affected him, as well, “Good luck. You’ll definitely need it.”

He lets out a bitter laugh, waving you off before he’s out of sight. It’s quiet, and you’re unsure of what to say now that it’s just the two of you. Sighing, you look back at Taehyun, only to see that his eyes were already on you. 

You gulp. 

Taehyun has never looked this angry; his jaw is clenched and his brows are furrowed as he leans forward, elbows resting on his thighs as he jerks his head side to side— the cracks of his neck have you wincing, though you don’t think he cares, his lips pressing together for a moment before he breaks out into a breathy laugh. 

His eyes flicker back up to meet yours, a smile spreading across his face, fangs dangerous as he bites his lip in a failed attempt to suppress it. 

“I can’t wait to fuck him up.”

⊹⊹⊹

The place is packed. 

It’s deafening as you make your way to the cage, Taehyun stuck to your side as the patrons make a path for you; you try not to tense at the feeling of Taehyun’s hand on your waist, pulling you in and keeping you away from the men that stare at you with a disgusting hunger. 

Their excitement is deafening. It makes your head pound and your concentration waver, jolting into Taehyun from the way people try to reach out for you— the call of your name by old regulars isn’t lost on you, but you try to grit your teeth and ignore it. 

“They’re here for you,” Taehyun muses quietly, leaning into you so you can hear him. You scoff, shaking your head as you finally reach the cage’s entrance; Jongseong is already inside, waiting.

“They’re here for you,” you say, watching as Taehyun unzips his jacket and hands it to you; he grins at that, and you’re scolding him to put in his mouthpiece so he can’t come up with a stupid comeback. 

“Go get ‘em tiger,” you grin, watching as Taehyun can only shake his head in amusement. Your eyes flicker back to where Jeongseong stands, chatting idly with his own coach— your expression turns grim at the sight of Minho giving him tips with a bright smile. 

Your hands are warm as you reach out to Taehyun; grabbing both sides of his face, cradling his jaw as you’re pulling him in towards you boldly— he’s slightly caught off guard by your action, eyes widening as he’s forced to remain silently and stare at you stupidly. 

“Light on your feet. Be calm. Preserve your energy,” you say to him, repeating all the tips you’ve given him through three curt sentences. He nods, and you nod along with him, slightly amused at the sight of him.

“You got this. I believe in you.”

You’re pushing him into the cage after that. 

The floor is scuffed and old. It’s nothing in comparison to Jin’s pristine cage, and Taehyun is finally beginning to take it all in as he looks out, the club packed and rowdy as he scans through the crowd; he spots Yoongi and Sooyoung, the two giving him a nod and a thumbs up the moment their eyes meet. 

“Tonight’s match looks quite interesting,” a voice booms out, and Taehyun looks over to the commentator’s table, able to recognize the two faces that beam back at him in excitement— Taemin and Kibum, if he remembers right. 

“Not only is it winner-takes-all, but we also seem to have a legend in our midst— if not, two,” Taemin’s smile is ear to ear as the crowd grows louder, and Taehyun is able to spot you shrinking slightly from the sudden attention. 

“The king and queen of FightX— sound familiar?” If the crowd’s reaction is any indication of their answer, then Taehyun would say yes. Kibum’s laugh echoes around the cage, and Taehyun feels overwhelmed by the intensity of it all.

“Not only that, but apparently she’s coaching this guy too!” Taemin and Kibum are off in their own world as they chatter, and Taehyun can’t help but wonder when the theatrics will end and the match will start. 

“Minho even seems to have stepped up for today— the best of the best, hmm?”

Minho is more than willing to indulge in all the fanfare; in the ring, Jongseong only rolls his eyes, clearly as impatient as Taehyun.

“Oooh, now now, we should probably stop,” Kibum grins, nudging Taemin playfully, “It looks like our fighters are getting restless.”

“Right, we should probably get on with it,” Taemin agrees, though the way they both continue to talk says otherwise, “This is what you all came to see, right?!”

More cheers. 

Taehyun has begun drowning everyone out at this point. Even when the referee steps inside and gestures for the two to come to him, he can’t bring himself to listen. Instead, he focuses, his eyes never straying from the man before him.

The Cobra seems to be just as concentrated as him. His gaze is dangerous and he’s restless as he shifts in front of Taehyun, lips twitching into a smile as the referee asks them to be courteous, to touch gloves. 

Neither of them move. 

Three rounds, he hears the referee remind them— then he’s stepping back, gauging their reactions before the loud bell rings out, signaling that the fight has begun. 

Jongseong moves immediately— but he doesn’t strike, and Taehyun’s eyes narrow at the way he remains in a low stance, swaying slightly as he remains on guard; his constant movement makes it difficult for Taehyun to hit him, and he’s left unamused at the way Jongseong seems to taunt and bluff with a mocking smile. 

He throws out meaningless jabs, not bothering to hit him properly as he continues to grin and mess around. This behavior is a strong contrast to the characteristics you warned him of; He keeps his fists close to his face, a complete opposite of Jongseong, who’s body remains relaxed.

Usually, Taehyun would see this as a weakness; he’s left unguarded, goading the audience that only seems to yell at Taehyun to do something— to take the bait. If anything, the way Jongseong smiles through his mouthpiece is enough to remind him of Sooyoung; confident, skilled, quick and agile enough that he can afford to keep his body open as a bluff. 

Taehyun throws a left hook as a test. Immediately, Jongseong is jumping back, dodging it and putting his hands up with such speed that Taehyun could’ve missed it if he blinked. Jongseong’s eyes narrow, and it seems as though he’s realized that Taehyun has caught on to his show tactics.

There’s no room to play around anymore. Jongseong seems to have thrown out any tactics to bait Taehyun, choosing to throw punch after punch instead, a slight form of bait on its own.

Taehyun could fight back. He could retaliate to the blows on his forearms and sides, could try to land a few kicks on the man before him and try to injure him. But he would also waste all his energy in the first round, potentially leaving him vulnerable to The Cobra’s attacks in later rounds. It’s clear that’s what he wants— Taehyun throws a punch here and there to make it seem as though he’s falling into the trap, but your words to preserve his energy ring out in his head all the while. 

The action to remain on defense makes Taehyun look like a coward. But he doesn’t really mind, especially with the way Jongseong grows cocky, a confident smile broad on his face as he lets his guard down slightly, laughing along to the scathing comments the audience throws at him. 

His rear hand falters for a second. And in that second, Taehyun is able to deliver a right hook, his padded fist colliding with Jongseong’s jaw and sending him stumbling off, the people roaring and drowning out the sound of the commentator’s ramblings. 

One minute on the clock, will he be able to get another hit in?! Taehyun is effortless to drown out Kibum’s cries, stepping back the moment Jeongseong is back on his feet— for a moment, the two circle each other, and Taehyun can see the way his opponent’s eyes scan him, mind rapidly thinking of a way to counter his most recent blow. 

Kibum is audibly disappointed at the sound of the first round ending. How uneventful, he mourns, and Taehyun is happy to see that you’ve made it into the cage, Minho trailing behind you as you both get a minute to talk. 

“Fuck, good job, that was a good hit,” you immediately say, grabbing Taehyun’s wrist and dragging him to your corner. His mouth is sore as he takes his mouthpiece out, taking slow drinks of the water bottle you hand him as he listens to you.

“He’s a lot more different now. Still agile, but it looks like he likes playing with his food now,” you say, wiping off the sweet that’s gathered on Taehyun’s skin gently; he feels oddly tense at the action, your tender gesture making his heart beat a little faster as he wonders instead if he’s finally beginning to get nervous from the match.

“He definitely knows you’re not one to play with now, but it’s still good to feed into it sometimes,” you pause, your hand stilling on his chest, the thin towel the only barrier between you as you look up at him sternly, “I know I said to preserve more energy, but get more hits out. He has really good stamina.”

Taehyun tries to sear your words into his head as the referee calls for them to get ready for the next round, the two of you exchanging a reassuring look before you’re off.

Like last time, Jongseong doesn’t seem too keen on being friendly before the match. 

Taehyun takes your advice quite seriously— though Jongseong is also able to get more hits on him this way, his bottom lip cracking open after a particularly rough punch. Jongseong, Taehyun realizes, mostly fights with his upper body. He’s quick on his feet and dodges hits easily, but Taehyun has yet to be pinned down or hit with a kick— he tries to keep this knowledge to himself, the next five minutes uneventful as the round ends without any memorable hits.

Could it be that The Cobra has met his match? Taemin mused into the mic, grinning at the way the crowd only booed in response. Ignore that, you muttered in his ear, rolling your eyes at the way the two commentators were still just as annoying as you remembered. 

“He only punches,” Taehyun comments, his brows furrowing as he looks over to Jongseong’s corner, “No kicks, clinches, anything. It’s odd.” 

“Because he’s saving it for the last round,” you tell him, reaching up to brush the hair from his forehead— you’re serious, trying your best to hide the worry on your face as you warn him, “I’m telling you— he likes to play with his food. Be extra careful, I’m sure he’ll try pulling something new on you.”

The referee calls the break to an end. Pressing your lips together, and you’re nodding as you step back to leave. 

“Go all in now. Everything you got, now’s the time to use it.”

The way Minho laughs as you meet him at the cage entrance has you scoffing; Taehyun can see the older man talking to you, though he’s unable to try and see what he’s saying as the referee calls the fighters to the center.

“Last round,” he reminds, placing a hand on both their shoulders, “Clean, fair fight, okay?”

Jongseong nods— then, he reaches forward, offering his gloves to Taehyun. 

The slight twitch of his lips is mischievous. Slowly, Taehyun does the same; their gloves touch softly, the commentators quick to point it out as the match begins. 

Jeongseong throws a punch instantly. 

It’s like a switch has been flipped in his mind. His eyes are filled with eager bloodlust and alight with adrenaline, throwing hit after hit at Taehyun with no signs of stopping. All Taehyun can do is defend himself, unable to get an opening as he’s forced to take the blows Jongseong delivers.

Taehyun thinks he might have an opening the moment the man backs up, hands going down and leaving him unguarded for a second— but as Taehyun throws out a punch, he’s met with a harsh kick to his side, shocking him and knocking him off balance as Jongseong quickly uses it to his advantage. 

He’s disoriented with how quickly Jongseong wraps around him; limbs tangled, arms around his neck in such a strong chokehold that Taehyun can already feel his head pounding. Is he gonna tap out? He can hear the commentators asking, forcing him to grit his teeth and throw punches at Jeongseong’s head and sides in an attempt to throw him off. 

It seems to work; he’s somehow landed a punch directly to his nose, and the man behind him is stunted by the blow, his hold faltering and giving Taehyun the opening he needed to escape. 

Quick to get up, Taehyun slowly catches his breath. Two minutes on the clock! He hears them yell. Jongseong has yet to get up, the blood dripping from his nose making his eyes widen in shock, watching as he struggles to stumble to his feet, still disoriented from the blow. 

Jongseong’s eyes meet Taehyun’s; he’s tired, a panting mess and reflection of him as he slowly makes his way to Taehyun, stumbling slightly and heavy on his feet as he winces— an easy finish. For a second, Taehyun can feel himself relax, the tension in his body releasing as he watches Jongseong carefully. 

Jongseong takes in Taehyun’s shift instantly— Taehyun is jumping back before he can process it, eyes widening at the way Jongseong aimed a right hook for him, the swing of his arm ripping through the air as he stumbles slightly from the lack of impact. 

Then, he’s knocked back.

Taehyun can barely process the way his body moved with such acute precision, spinning and twisting just as you taught him as he lands with no problem, the feeling of him colliding right into Jongseong oddly instinctual; he watches as the man jolts from the impact, his body stiffening and his eyes rolling back as he can only fall from the impact to his body— to his head. 

The sound of his body colliding against the floor is loud, Jongseong’s face blank as he simply lays there, eyelids flickering and mind swimming in and out of consciousness as the referee runs to him. 

After a moment, the winner is declared. 

Taehyun is unable to process anything— the sounds of the audience roaring, the feeling of his arm being thrust into the air, the sight of Jongseong lying on the ground still— he doesn’t process anything, eyes drifting around and looking for one thing like habit. 

There you are, face alight with joy as you cheer furiously. 

Taehyun laughs slightly— it’s a bit pained, and he winces at the feeling of his sore body, the referee finally letting go of his hand as he stumbles out towards the exit, and straight towards you, pulling his mouth guard out with a wince.

“You did it!” You grin, your voice clear as day, even through the bewildered chatter of the rest as you wave him over. “Fuck, you really did it!”

Taehyun thinks you might hit him again, like you always do; instead, he feels you grab his face, your own alight with euphoria as you tug him into you and crash your lips against his— he barely has enough time to process things before you’re pulling away, your expression sobering as you take in what you just did. 

“Hey!” Yoongi calls out, attempting to weave through the crowd as you turn around to the source of the distraction, “Find Minho, make sure he doesn’t try to slip away!” 

“Right,” you respond, turning back to look at Taehyun— he’s left frozen and bewildered as he looks at you, mouth slightly agape as you feel a heat rush to your face. 

He attempts to call after you, but you’re slipping away before he can get you to stay.

He can still feel the ghost of your lips against his.

⊹⊹⊹

“You guys are insane,” Beomgyu huffs, laying back in his bed with a slight wince, “My mother would be mortified if she found out what you did to get this money.”

“It’s a shame we had to get it at all,” you say, glaring at Beomgyu and watching as he shrinks under your gaze, muttering a quiet sorry, sorry in response. Sighing, you shake your head, taking in Beomgyu’s condition with a smile, “you know, after all these expenses, I think we might just have a bit left over.”

“We could go on a trip,” Beomgyu says without hesitation, and you shake your head in amusement. 

“Focus on getting better first,” you scold, smiling at the way Beomgyu lets out a yes ma’am! In response, “I need to go. Visiting hours are over.”

“I’m supposed to get discharged in two days, don’t forget me!” He calls out, and you choose to ignore it as you exit, stopping in your tracks as you close the door behind you softly.

The last thing you expected was to see Taehyun waiting for you, patched up and changed as he leaned against the wall.

“Hey,” you smile, albeit a bit awkward— he says nothing, and you clear your throat, nodding back to the room behind you nervously, “Visiting hours are over. Uhm, maybe come back tomorrow?”

“I’m not here to see him,” he says, raising a brow at the way you only send him a confused look, “I’m here to see you.”

“And what could you possibly want from me?” Your steps are brisk as you begin to walk back to the exit; Taehyun is just as quick behind you, trying to get your attention to no avail.

“What do you mean what could I possibly want? You’re not one to act stupid, noona,” he says, hot on your trail as you finally make it outside. 

You know he’s right— and yet, you feel terribly awkward about it, refusing to look back at him as you begin to wonder where you could have parked, wandering around the quiet lot— you’re a few feet away from your car when Taehyun grabs your arm, stopping you in your tracks and turning you around harshly, his eyes angry as he looks at you.

“You kissed me.”

“What?” You say, trying to shake his hold off as you look up at him with shining, innocent eyes, your right one twitching for a second, “What is this, some kind of adrenaline-induced hallucination? Don’t be weird.”

“Hallucination—” he’s in disbelief as he begins cornering you, your back pressing flat against the driver’s door as he practically towers over you, his free hand planted by your head and caging you in, “The way you felt against me felt very real.”

You gulp. This was weird— this was new, something that you definitely had not accounted for, because as you stare at Taehyun, his gaze intense and his face inches away from yours, you can’t help but feel your face heat up. 

“It’s— it meant nothing,” you stutter out, heart pounding at the way he very clearly doesn’t believe you, “I wasn’t even thinking, I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.”

“It meant nothing?” He whispers, his voice low and breathy as he leans in even closer; your eyes are shutting from how close he is, able to feel his breath fan across your cheeks as he lets out a soft laugh, “If it meant nothing, then why have you been avoiding me?”

“I haven’t been—”

“I don’t appreciate you lying to me, noona.”

You’re silent. Your breaths are shaky, lips parted as you wait for him to say something. 

After a second, his lips press against yours. 

For a second, it’s gentle; unsure, waiting for you to pull away and tell him to leave you alone— instead, you let out a breathy sigh, your lips beginning to move against his.

The moment you reciprocate is the moment he loses control. His hands are coming up to your face, cupping your jaw tenderly and tilting your head up to him, his lips needy and messy as he pries your mouth open, tongue prodding at your mouth before he’s pulling away to sink his teeth into your soft lips— the pained whine you let out has his mind reeling. 

You’re breathless and dazed by the time he finally pulls away— you think you can feel your knees go weak at the sight of a string of saliva connecting between the two of you, watching as he smiles at you cruelly, his gaze dark and hazed as his thumb runs across your bottom lip fondly.

“I won just for you,” he breathes out, eyes darkening from the way your tongue runs across the pad of his finger mindlessly.

“Don’t you think I deserve a reward for working so hard?”

⊹⊹⊹

Taehyun’s apartment is nice— well, at least you think. You didn’t really get a chance to get a good look at it. 

However, you can confidently say that his bed is nice— you practically sink into the soft mattress, the once neatly done sheets beneath you now a mess from the way you’re squirming under Taehyun.

All he’s done is kiss you— yet, you feel so terribly fucked out and needy, unable to keep your hands off him for even a second, your fingers weaved into his hair and tugging as you feel him moan into your mouth. 

“Even now you’re so fucking mean,” he hisses, feeling the way your nails rake down his back; leaving a red trail against his skin, his shirt discarded long ago as he currently worked to get you to do the same. “Shit, I just got out of a match, noona.”

“Shit, you’re right,” you pant, and Taehyun frowns above you as you begin to pull away, “poor baby is too hurt to fuck—”

“I didn’t say that,” he groans, and you’re surprised by the way he takes a hold of your shoulders and pushes you back down into the mattress firmly. He takes this moment to tug your shirt up, throwing it in some random direction before he’s smiling at the sight of you, “Fuck, you have such a smart mouth.”

“Guess it rubbed off,” you say, your words wavering pathetically mid-way, all from the feeling of Taehyun biting and sucking at your neck ruthlessly while his hands came up to feel your breasts, slipping under the fabric and circling your nipples teasingly. 

“Yeah? I taught you that?” He asks, nipping at your skin and taking off your bra with swift hands, “Maybe I should teach you how to be good for me then.”

You’re unable to gather your thoughts and bite back— his mouth is sucking at your nipples messily, tongue making a show of it as he groans at the feeling and traces shapes on your skin, too focused on the messy teasing to notice the moment his hand slips past your waistband and cups your pussy.

“Fuck, you’re so sweet for me noona,” he sighs, middle finger running up and down your slit teasingly, feeling the way you practically soak through your panties, “This wet for me already?” 

“Don’t let it get to your head,” you grumble, mouth falling open at the way he begins prodding your entrance teasingly, pushing into your hole then going to circle your clit slowly over the fabric. 

Taehyun laughs. The way you refuse to submit to him isn’t surprising in the slightest, watching as you refuse to give him reactions with dark eyes, trained carefully onto your face as he feels you get wetter from his motions, taking in what works and what doesn’t simply from the way your face reacts— even if you try to hide it, much to his annoyance. 

“What’s wrong noona? Don’t you feel good?” He asks you quietly, his hands already dragging your pants off agonizingly slowly, biting his lip to suppress the smile that threatens to break through, far too amused by this strong front you seem to put up, “I’ll do better then, don’t worry.”

Taehyun is sinking down to his stomach before you can process anything, hands running along your thighs teasingly before they’re hooking under your knees— lifting them up, pressing them against your stomach, able to look down at your glistening pussy with ease. 

You’re scrambling to hold on to something the moment he gets his mouth on you— he’s pressing you into the mattress, willing to control the way your hips jump as he presses his tongue flat against your slit, drinking up your wetness and teasing the tip of his tongue along your fluttering hole. The moans you let out are pathetic and embarrassing, your face heating up as you begin to squirm the moment Taehyun wraps his lips around your clit, face buried in your pussy and hair soft tickling against your thighs as he eats you out. 

The sounds are enough to make you cover your face— Taehyun is shameless as he eats you out, slurping and sucking and moaning against your cunt loudly— it’s almost as though he were doing it on purpose. 

“Taehyun, Taehyun, fuuuck…!” You can’t control your mouth— the sound of his name coming from your lips is enough to make Taehyun moan more against your pussy, cock rutting into the mattress below him as he listens to the sounds you make intently, smiling against your cunt at the sight of you finally breaking under him.

You feel dizzy— the way Taehyun fucks you with his tongue has you whining stupidly, his hand leaving your leg and coming to circle your clit as he continues to fuck you— after a moment, he decides he’s had enough of your squirming under him, his hands reaching to cup your ass before he’s pulling you back into him; your legs are falling over his shoulders, and his face is pressed against your pussy as he grants you no escape.

His grip is bruising on your skin; your thighs close around his head, but he pays no mind to it as he continues to lick at your pussy, gathering your arousal on his tongue before he’s looking back up at you with innocent round eyes, showing it off to you and forcing you to watch as he lets it drip back onto your cunt. 

It’s all so messy and overwhelming; you don’t even register the moment you cum on his tongue, your mind going blank and your body relaxing under his hold as he lets you ride out your orgasm, his tongue eager to lick up your release as he lets out soft hums against your cunt. 

“Taehyun,” you whimper out weakly, fingers weaving into his hair and tugging at it in order to get him to stop his ministrations— you can hear him complaining to you softly as he refuses to give in, the soft whine of his name only making him want to give you another orgasm— you have to tug harder on his hair to pull him from you, his lips and chin shining with your arousal as he smiles coyly at your reaction; his tongue darts out to lick his lips, wiping at his chin before he’s coming back up to hover over you. 

“What happened baby? Just wanted to make you feel good,” He tuts softly, grinning at the way you struggle to come down from your bliss. You don’t seem to realize the moment he’s become completely bare, the feeling of his cock poking at your inner thighs making your snap back to reality, feeling the tip smudge his precum all over your skin as he leans down to kiss you; it’s slow and messy, and he’s eager to push you lips apart and allow you to taste yourself, cradling your jaw as you feel him smile against your lips.  

“Why don’t you be quiet for a second? I like you more that way.” the way he frowns at your words has you breaking out into a teasing smile, running your fingers through his hair as you laugh softly— though it quickly falters the moment you feel him rubbing against your slit, his tip running up and down and catching on your clit as your body jolts from the sensation.

“Noona, do you hate me?” He pouts at you, watching as you fail to formulate proper words from the way his tip prods at your entrance, teasingly beginning to stretch you before he pulls out. This continues for a moment, and it’s clear he’s waiting for a response you clearly refuse to give him; frowning, he continues his motions, slowly rutting against your pussy as he looks down at you with sharp eyes, watching as you whine at him to stop teasing— he shakes his head, telling you to answer him, his voice sharp and low as he tightens his grip on your hips, fingers digging into your flesh in a way that has you stuttering your response out weakly.

“N—no.”

“Then why are you so mean to me?” He continues, tilting his head as he finally pushes the tip in; he watches your expression carefully, drinking up the way your brows furrow and your eyes become glossy. 

“I… your reactions are cute,” you admit, clenching around Taehyun tightly and watching the way he hisses at the feeling. 

“Yeah? They’re cute?” He repeats, straightening up and kneeling as he looks down at you. Your fucked out expression could make Taehyun come on the spot, but instead he grabs a hold of your waist, settling in between your legs and pulling you in close to him. 

He’s inside you with one swift push; the yelp you let out is embarrassing and you’re quickly slapping a hand over your mouth, eyes fluttering at the sensation of Taehyun fully inside you, thick and twitching wildly. Taehyun takes your hand away immediately; his fingers are lacing with yours, and he’s smiling sweetly as he looks down at you. 

“I think your reactions are cute too,” he’s moving after that, his thrusts slow and deep as he waits for you to adjust to his size. You’re holding tightly onto him as moans and whines fall from you, the sounds only fueling Taehyun further as he slowly begins to fuck you faster. 

“Feels nice, noona?” He groans, eyes trained on the way your tits bounce with his every thrust. The way you refuse to admit to him how good he’s making you feel has him rolling his eyes, letting go of your hand and gripping your hips before he’s bringing you back into him, bottoming out and rolling his hips slowly into your cunt as he feels the way you tighten around him, his cock taking in every flutter of your walls around him as he lets out pleased sighs. 

“What, too embarrassed to admit that it’s me making you feel good?” He asks, biting his lip as he concentrates on not coming too soon from the way you squeeze him, “You didn’t seem embarrassed when you kissed me in front of all those people earlier.”

“It was in the heat of the moment…” you answer back pitifully, unable to hide the way you can barely speak from the way he fucks you. 

“Hmm, okay. If you say so,” he hums, and you’re not given room to fight back as he goes back to fucking you— careless, pulling you back into him, enjoying your sounds with a wicked smile, unable to take his eyes off you for a moment. 

The moment his hand slips to rub circles on your clit, you feel your mind go blank— the sounds you make has Taehyun cursing under his breath, the feeling of your walls clenching around him and sucking him in driving him mad as he gets a hold of your thighs, pressing them against your body and putting you into a mating press as he continues to fuck you.

“Tae— Taehyun, ah, please,” you whine out, left defenseless to the way his hips slam against yours, losing his pace and letting out soft groans as he feels himself coming at the sound of your whines of his name— his cum is barely able to stay inside with the way he continues fucking you, cock rutting into your sensitive pussy as you whine at him to slow down. 

“Wanna see you do that again,” he mumbles, eyes flicking up to gauge your expression, “Like, a few more times.”

Your pussy tightens around him in response, and he has to bite his lip to suppress the moan that bubbled up his throat. After a second, he’s slowly fucking you again, feeling his cock harden inside you from the sight of his cum escaping you with every thrust.

You don’t know how many times he makes you cum after that— you might’ve blacked out halfway through, Taehyun’s obsession with making you come undone leaving you filled with cum and undeniably sore— he’s insatiable, leaving you a mess under him as you let him use you how he’d like, manhandling you into all sorts of positions as he continues to groan about how good you feel, reassuring you just one more, with your every whine, yet lying each time. 

You’re only able to think straight once you’ve found yourself pulled into Taehyun’s chest— the rise and fall of your bodies is relaxing, and you don’t even remember Taehyun cleaning the both of you up as you lie under his covers, the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around you very much welcomed. 

“So, did this also mean nothing to you?” Taehyun mumbles into the crown of your head, nuzzling into your scent as he struggles to stay awake. 

“No. This definitely meant something,” you say, equally as tired as you burrow further into the warmth of his chest. You can hear the deep rumble of his chuckles above you, his hands running across your back soothingly as he speaks. 

“And what did it mean?”

A pause. You think you both know what it means, but you won’t give him the satisfaction as you nip at his skin teasingly. 

“Means you’re okay, I guess.”

You refuse to admit that Taehyun has you wrapped around his finger— though it’s definitely reciprocated by the way Taehyun laughs at your comment, pulling you in even closer still and cooing jokingly that you looove me, hmm?

God, even now, he was insufferable.

But you kinda liked that about him. 

[sweaters-n-socks]

I have a younger sister

But no matter whatever i try I can never seem to bring myself to like her. Every time I see her she is just so annoying and I feel like I wanna smash something and just break my head off. Everything she does irritates me from her mannerisms, the way she talks, the way she steals my stuff but never gets scolded, the way she has had a kinder bringing up than I did, the way she’s only been hit once or twice her entire life but I’ve been slapped well into my higher teens, the way she just starts dancing out of nowhere like an absolute crackhead, the way she gets to grow up with a tv while I didn’t have that chance because when we got a proper connection I was already in grade 11 and I had to focus on school, the way she gets to keep all the relative given money and spend it on whatever without a question but I’ve been taught to hand it over straight to my dad the second it touches my hands, how she is going to be able to spend her teen years happily with a separate room and alone with all my parents’ full attention while I’ve had to suffer with her annoying ass at home all my life till now, the way she already has a laptop of her own and was also given a phone before she even hit her teens but I still have to use a hand me down broken laptop that has a barely functioning keyboard and got a phone of my own only in senior secondary and only because I had to travel far for coaching classes and not because my parents actually wanted to get me one and even now my mom keeps checking my phone and keeps reading all my texts and I have no privacy so what is the point of whatsapp anymore , the way she gets to have the door to her room closed anytime she wants but my mom keeps my door open and keep checking in on me, the way my sister is allowed to go to the terrace alone with her friends whenever she wants till whenever she wants but I always had to ask for permission and had a early curfew, the way my parents always tell me that I have to guide her once I’ve gone to college but why the heck should I who guided me who told me what to do who told me how to study when I didn’t have that guidance I don’t feel like she should have an unfair advantage because I know that if she turns out better than I did my parents will rub it in forever, the way she’s going to get to go on vacations every summer from now on and they’re already making a list of all the countries they’re gonna go to next year after I’ve left to college because my family is doing better than when I was a kid but I’ve never gone anywhere apart from my native place and the only time I’m gonna get to travel is when I can afford it myself, the way she just randomly screams for no reason like she got stabbed but will just be ignored but if I yell out of shock because I spilled water on my notes I get screamed at for acting immaturely, they way my parents won’t repeat the same mistakes they did on me when it comes to her because even though they may have meant it as a joke they said that now they know how to raise a kid but for some damn reason I can’t take it as a joke, the thought that I know is wrong to think but I can’t help it which is that if my sister weren’t there my parents maybe could spend more money and time on me and I could worry less about how they’re gonna afford my college fees, the way she gets to have no restrictions on what she gets to watch but I’m always constantly monitored even though I’m literally almost 18 now, the way my dad keep a saying that I’m her second mother but why the fuck am I supposed to take on that responsibility unwillingly cuz if it’s ur child you raise it and stop putting pressure on me to help you raise her if I don’t want to, the way I’m crying while typing all of this and my mom just came and asked my why I’m crying and when I told her the reason she just yelled at me for not understanding that this is how I family is and how I’m not being kind enough when she doesn’t even realise how much this is affecting me, the way I just really really want to move out to college as soon as I can and never see my sister ever again.

[toppersjeep]

EDUARDO SAVERIN-[Marks Sister] X Reader

Summary: you are marks sister and have had a secret relationship with his best friend Eduardo. you work for Facebook as well and even helped with the coding stuff. basically Wardo comes to visit you planned on telling mark you are dating and he finds out the wrong way.

Your POV

I walked out into the main waiting area of the Facebook office. I waited for Wardo to show up I hadn’t seen him in a minute and I missed him more than anything.

It hurt being apart from him and hiding our relationship from my brother Mark. We planned on telling him today at dinner. Hopefully it goes smoothly.

“Y/N here’s those copies you wanted” an intern said handing me them. “Great thank you so much I’ll get them to Mark” I said she smiled and walked away. “Guess who” Wardo said covering my eyes. “Mr. Saverin as my boss this is very bad” I said. “Ah and this too” he said kissing my cheek.

I turned around and hugged him.

“How was your flight” I said kissing him. “Good I missed you so much beautiful” Wardo said. “I missed you to Wardo” I said. “Mr.Saverin in here when you are ready” the guy said opening the meeting room door.

“Good luck I love you I’ll see you after the meeting” I said kissing him one more time. “Love you too baby get to work” he said I laughed. “Oh I will I promise” I said smiling. “You better I’d hate to fire you” Wardo said.

“You love me to much” I said. “True” Wardo said walking into the meeting room. I walked out and went back to my desk to read through done reports of how well we were doing.

“Hey I was wondering if you wanted to grab drinks or something” Sean said sitting on my desk. “Sean I have a boyfriend and I’ve had a boyfriend for like eight months” I said.

“No you don’t you are completely lying” Sean said. “Respectfully get off my desk and go bother an intern” I said. “Alright your loss” Sean said walking over to my brother.

Then I heard Wardo yell Marks name and storm over to his desk.

“Mark” Wardo yelled. “He’s wired in” Sean said. “Sorry” Wardo said. “He’s wired in” Sean said. “Oh he’s wired in” Wardo said smashing the laptop. “How about now you still wired in” Wardo said. I stood up. I was definitely concerned he never acted like this.

Mark slowly took his headphones off.

“Security” Sean said. “You issued 24 million new shares of stock” Wardo said. “You were told that if new investors come in” Mark started to say. “How much were your shares and how much were his” Wardo said looking at Sean.

“You signed the papers” Mark said. “You set me up” he said through tears. “You’re gonna blame me because your the business head of the company and you made a bad deal, with your own business” Mark said I teared up. Why was he doing this.

“It’s gonna be like I’m not apart of Facebook” Wardo said. “You aren’t a part of Facebook” Sean added. “Oh shut up Sean” I said. “My names on the mast head” Wardo said angry. “You might wanna check again” Sean said.

“This because I froze the account” Wardo said. “You think we were gonna let you parade around in your ridiculous suits, thinking you were running this company” Sean said.

“Sorry my Pradas at the cleaners along with my hoodie and fuck you flip flops” Wardo said looking at Sean. “Securitys here you’ll be leaving now” Sean said. “I’m not signing those papers” Wardo said. “We will get the signature” Sean said.

“Tell me this isn’t about me dating Y/N Mark” Wardo said I looked at Wardo sadly. “Wow Y/N behind my back and you Wardo” Mark said. “Seriously him” Sean said. “Oh my god shut your damn mouth seriously” I said yelling at Sean everyone looked at me.

“And I’ll bet what you hated the most is that they identified me as a co founder of Facebook” Wardo said. “Which I am you better lawyer up asshole cause I’m not coming back for 30% I’m coming back for everything” Wardo said getting in Marks face.

“Get him out of here” Sean said. “It’s ok I’m going” Wardo said. “Y/N” Mark said. “Fuck you and this you screwed him over” I said grabbing my things.

“Come on Y/N seriously” Sean said. “You can stop trying to get into my pants Sean cause I promise you you’ll never touch any of this” I said. “Come on” Wardo said.

We started walking away as all eyes were on us. I didn’t really understand what happened it was happening so fast.

“Oh here’s that 19 thousand dollars” Sean said holding a check. “I wouldn’t cash it though I drew it on the account you froze” Sean said Wardo faked a punch at him. I grabbed the check. “I like standing next to you Sean makes me look so tough” Wardo said.

“Good luck getting a uh girlfriend dick” I said throwing the check at Sean. We were escorted out of the Facebook offices. We walked to my car. We both truly just lost everything. “Y/N… I I’m so sorry” Wardo said teary eyed.

“It’s fine.. I” I said crying. He hugged me. “Thank god I still have you I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you” Wardo said hugging me tightly. “I love you too” I said. “Not the way we wanted today to go huh” Wardo said I wiped his tears.

“Baby” I said. “I’m ok” Wardo said. “I’m here” I said hugging him again he just cried. He had lost something he built and my brother. I understood his frustration. “Can we just go back to your apartment” Wardo said.

“Mmmh” I said.

Later…

“I made dinner” I said walking out into my living room. “I’m not too hungry baby” Wardo said I walked over and sat on his lap. “We will win this ok” I said running my fingers through his hair. “How can you be so sure” he said wrapping his arms around me. “Because you have me here to” I said.

“I’m so thankful for you” he said cupping my cheek. “I love you more than anything ok Wardo” I said he kissed me. “Now what was dinner” Wardo said I smiled. “I uh ordered pizza” I said. “Pizza hmmm like our first date all over” Wardo said.

[guroseinsei]

RIGHT??

sir, leland, i know youre trying to keep your cover but by not freaking out and worrying your mind over a man you've been whipped over for probably about 20 damn years, who the hell is gonna believe you??? 😭😭😭

you smashed a guy in the face with a LAPTOP for godsakes, for poisoning(!!) monk. you threaten whoever the hell doesn't wanna listen to monk's "here's what happened."

YOU LITERALLY TRIED TO SHAKE THE BONES out of a man asking him where the hell monk was!!!!

LELAND, YOU LITERALLY WENT ALL MAFIA 'wth do you want with my guy?' ON A STRANGER WHO WAS PRETENDING TO BE MONK'S FRIEND-

and you expect people to believe you're alright and not hiding something?

i'm sorry leland, you're not subtle. and you certainly haven't been subtle about how much you absolutely love adrian monk.

rewatched part II of Mr. Monk on the run and it’s hilarious how the big guys knew it was fake and Adrian was alive because it was too obvious that Leland isn’t screaming crying throwing up over his “death” when he “KILLED him” (also an impossible option apparently for outsiders, I wonder why)

[rebeccccccaaa]

ᴄᴀᴛ’s ɢᴏᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛᴏɴɢᴜᴇ?

__________________________

ᴄᴀᴍ ʙᴏʏ/ʀᴏ��ᴍᴍᴀᴛᴇ! ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀᴀᴜ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You have always been more modest not really ever having time to explore what could have been some sort of sensual alter ego and when Bucky finds out hes determined to bring the sex goddess in you out.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: slight fluff if you count flirty bucky, smut ofc (minors dni) [cam boy bucky (slight tipsy bucky and reader in the beginning); brief male masterbation (bucky has his door open during a session); fem!rec oral; hair pulling; spanking; real dirty talking; strong language, degradation; loss of virginity/ virgin reader but not innocent, touch starved reader, and overstim, overall pretty rough but aftercareeee]

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: sorry in advanced if you don’t like iced coffee lol

_____________________________

“There’s no way; you’re such a fucking liar,” Bucky threw his head back with laughter.

“I knew I shouldn’t have fucking said anything,” you scoff, rolling your eyes before standing up with annoyance.

“No! Don’t go, come on. I didn’t mean it like that,” he chuckled.

“Yeah right,” you scoffed.

“Can I ask why?”

“I mean, honestly. I just never really had time. Although, I did avoid sweaty football players all of high school, but being in uni I just want to grind and grind, you know? Finish school and get my degree. I don’t really have much time going out and getting laid,” you explained.

“Shit, does my… ‘side job’ make you uncomfortable? I didn’t realize how you would feel about it being a vir-”

“Buck, I’m a virgin, not innocent,” you chuckled.

“Damn straight,” Bucky laughed.

“Let me help you,” he said, making you laugh out loud.

"With what?" you asked in disbelief.

"Let me take your virginity. 'S better than fucking some random drunkard in a one night stand, and let's face it, you're not getting a boyfriend anytime soon."

You couldn't help but keep laughing at what he was saying.

“What?” he asked, confused.

“You’re so full of shit, Barnes,” you snorted, too drunk to notice that Bucky wasn’t laughing.

“Offer stands whenever, pretty girl.”

That was four weeks ago.

Since then, you feel like the tension between you and your roommate was especially thick since your tipsy confession. You couldn’t tell whether the things Bucky would say now were intentionally inappropriate or you just had a dirty mind. He seemed to always be shirtless; always.

“Did all your shirts catch fire? No, they got stolen, huh?” you joked.

“Har, har. Don’t be such a prude, pretty girl.”

“I’m not a prude,” you mumbled; at least he had the muscles to flaunt.

One quiet Friday evening, you sat in your room working away at your desk. You had been at it for a couple hours and as much as you wanted to throw in the towel you were so close to finishing everything you needed to finish this weekend. You went to the kitchen to grab a snack, maybe make a coffee, before drilling for the last hour to get everything done.

“Hey, pretty girl,” Bucky said, standing with a glass of whiskey in hand. He always drinks before filming.

“Gettin’ ready for your… stuff?” you asked.

“What stuff?” he asked cheekily, making you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, I haven’t posted anything in a couple weeks and my subscribers are thirsty,” he told you.

“I can only imagine,” you joked.

“Well, baby, I’m in the next room if you wanna stop imagining,” he said flirtatiously

“Fuck off. I’m just here to get coffee,” you smirked, grabbing the things you’ll need from the fridge.

“Well, then I’ll leave you to it,” Bucky said, smacking your ass hard before leaving for his room; you scoffed rolling your eyes at his antics.

You turned around making the coffee itself mindlessly before you grew slight concern when you had yet to hear the door of Bucky’s bedroom to shut. He always kept his door shut whilst you wore headphones blasting music so you wouldn’t have to listen to his unnecessary moaning and cursing. You silently begged the machine to hurry it’s brewing as Bucky began talking and moaning to his audience.

You gritted your teeth hearing him so clearly. Your breathing quickened and you felt your cheeks heat up. You hated how you wondered if he really was as vocal in bed as he portrayed online. You hated the way your stomach flipped and the tingle between your thighs. You’ve never felt so aroused before, you didn’t know what to do.

“Fucking hell,” he groaned, and you swallowed the dry lum in your throat.

You don’t even know how long you stood in the kitchen listening to Bucky. You were incredibly aroused, wetness pooling between your thighs. Your hands gripped at the counter desperate to not let your knees buckle as he got closer to his release.

“God, fuck you James,” you mumbled to yourself.

You couldn’t take it the groans he practically was screaming from his room. You stomped your way to his room to yell at him to close the door. You were enraged but you don’t really know why. Bucky’s side job never bothered so much until now and truthfully he wasn’t really to blame for how turned on you felt hearing him.

“Can you close the goddamn door?” you yelled approaching his bedroom.

“I hate to interrupt but I can fucking hear you- in the… kitchen,” you trailed off.

Bucky sat on his bed completely nude. His cheeks were red and his forehead had a layer of sweat as did his very smooth and very toned chest. Your body completely froze. It’s not that you hadn’t seen a man naked before. You’ve watched porn during the more stressful and lonelier nights, but Bucky was beautiful.

“Care to join?” Bucky breathed with a stupid smile.

“Jesus,” you gasped.

“I ain’t forget about that offer, pretty girl,” Bucky stood, chuckling when you visibly trembled.

“Whatcha say? You ready to finally deflower?” Bucky walked closer to you with a devilish smirk plastered on his handsome face.

“I’m sorry-” you stumbled over your words.

Your stomach fluttered from nervousness and arousal, your skin bursted into chills despite how hot and sweaty you were beginning to feel. You kept your eyes trained to anywhere but Bucky’s assets.

"What's wrong, pretty girl? Cat's got your tongue?" he teased.

"James," you said sternly.

"Baby, I can make you feel so good. All you have to do is say the word," he whispered in your ear, making you shudder.

You know deep inside you that this wasn't a good idea in the long run. It sounds so tempting now but what would happen afterwards? What would happen to your friendship?

"Stop thinking so hard. Just let me make you feel good, please," he begged.

His hands caressed your sides and you couldn't resist squirming; he hasn't even touched you.

"I can tell you're starving. Itching to be touched by someone. Those lonely nights with a laptop and your fingers isn't enough. I can help you, pretty girl. Give you so much and more; give you nirvana. Just say the word," he spoke slowly, sensually; you were damn near shaking just from his words.

"Please," you whimpered.

"Please what?" he teased; Bucky was drunk off the power he had over you.

"Fuck me. Use me. Ruin me," you begged.

"As you wish."

Bucky grabbed the back of your neck smashing his lips to yours. He grinded his hips into you and you feel his hard on digging into you. Your fingers dug into the soft skin of his chest leaving small red marks and scratches littered.

Bucky moved his hand up behind your head, curling his fingers in your hair pulling harshly. his lips instantly attached to your neck biting and sucking to mark you, so you remember he was the one who made you feel euphoric in the coming days. He wants you to remember this night.

"Shit, that feels so good," you sighed.

"That's just the beginning, pretty girl. Get on the bed," he demanded.

You scurried to bed tearing your shirt and shorts off leaving you in your dark lacey undergarments.

"It's like you were ready for me to fuck you," he chuckled darkly.

He crawled up the bed to you like an animal hunting and taunting its prey. You couldn't help but nibble on your bottom lip, anxious for what was to come from Bucky.

His hands gripped your waist firmly pulling impossibly close to his body. He kissed you again and you swore you could stay like that forever. His lips felt so soft again yours, you melted against his body from pleasure.

His hands circled your back and pulled at the bra clasp before swiftly undoing it and letting free. You shrugged your shoulders to your ears allowing the straps of the bra fall gracefully down your upper arm before Bucky curled his finger over the front and tossed it aside to admire your chest.

Your shoulders subconsciously caved in, embarrassed to be so unclothed in front of someone for the first time. Again, you weren't innocent but anyone would still be nervous for their first time. Bucky smiled softly at your timidness; his hands rubbing your sides slowly and comforting to help ease your nerves a bit.

"You are so gorgeous, baby."

"Don't get sappy, Barnes," you joked; but in reality you don't need another reason to fall deeper for him. Not that you're falling to begin with.

"Yes ma'am," he grinned.

He flipped the both of you over so you laid on your back. His hands gently kneaded your breasts pulling moans from you with every squeeze. He leaned down, taking a nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting your perked buds, circling his tongue around. Your back arched into him and you think you can handle the pleasure but you find yourself involuntarily getting higher and higher. Moaning and gasping louder every time Bucky would bite down hard on your nipple. The last straw was when Bucky brought his fingers between your thighs and barely pressed against your aching clit that you fell suddenly over the edge crying Bucky's name.

"Did you just-"

"Fuck, I'm sorry! I don't know what happened. I- Everything just-"

Bucky cut you off with a deep kiss.

"Don't be sorry," he chuckled.

"It's really hot that I was able to make you cum by just playing with these beauties," he flicked your nipples and squeezed your breats making you tremble.

“Shit, too much,” you whined.

Bucky ignored you once again, dipping his head back down, flicking his tongue over your overly sensitive buds. The squeal you made made Bucky chuckle darkly but he didn’t want to torture you so his lips trailed slowly down the valley of your breasts to you belly and hip bones. His fingers curled over your panties dragging them slowly down your legs.

“Fucking hell, pretty girl. You’re dripping. You’ve just been aching for me to get my hands on you for a while, huh?” Bucky taunted.

“Please,” you whimpered.

“Absolutely gorgeous.”

Bucky’s hands rested against your knees pushing them as far as they could go before diving in you like a starved man. Truthfully, Bucky had dreamed of this moment since he met you for the first time moving in. As the days, weeks, and years went by, the urge to resist kissing and fucking you stupid was getting all to much. But now he finally has you under him, at his mercy and he was determined to pleasure as much as he could before getting his cock anywhere near you.

Bucky brought his fingers to circle your entrance, waiting until your legs were nearly shaking from the teasing. As he pushed his fingers past your folds, he brought his mouth down again kissing right above your clit. You gasped and sighed in pleasure as he pumped his fingers in and out of you heavenly.

“Shit, feels so good. So, so good,” you moaned.

Bucky’s tongue brushed over your clit and you couldn’t resist bucking your hips, pushing his fingers deeper inside you. Your back arched off the bed and your hands shot to his head tugging on his dark locks harshly. Bucky’s moans from your tugs vibrated against you and you knew you weren’t going to last any longer.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum Bucky! Shit!” you shrieked.

“Come on, pretty girl. Be a good girl and come all over my fingers,” he said.

Seconds later, you reached your high, crying Bucky’s names again as if it was the only word you knew how to say. Your head practically dangled off the bed, scooting closer and closer to edge desperate to pull away from Bucky’s talented mouth.

“God, you’re beautiful when you fall apart like that,” Bucky mumbled against your heated skin.

Sweat lined your forehead and your chest, your hair was scattered across the sheets like a maniac, and your skin along your neck down to your inner thighs was littered with little bruises and bite marks from Bucky. You looked ethereal.

“One more. Can you give me one more?” Bucky asked softly.

“Fuck,” you whimpered.

“Such a good girl. I know you can, come on.”

Bucky gently flipped your body over, laying you on your stomach. He kissed down your spine, whispering sweet and kind things to you. You can’t even register what he’s saying because his godly erection is poking your ass and you're practically aching again to be railed by him.

“So eager for my cock, aren’t ya? Already being such a greedy little whore.”

“Please, Bucky,” you begged, wiggling your ass against his crotch.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’m gonna fuck you so good; gonna ruin you for anyone else,” he whispered in your ear before biting on your earlobe.

He stood tall on his knees behind you gripping your hips, roughly pulling them flush against his pelvis; you pushed yourself up on your hands. He grabbed his aching cock, the tip red and leaking with precum. Bucky doesn’t even know how he was able to last so long without cumming but he did and now all he wants to do is cum deep inside you.

“Ready, pretty girl?” he teased, rubbing your cheeks softly with his hands.

“Fuck me good, James,” you moaned.

Bucky lined his dick with your entrance slowly pushing the tip past your folds. The burning sensation caused you to hiss and tense around Bucky, who instantly stopped his movements.

“No, it’s ok; you’re just bigger than I was anticipating,” you fussed.

“It’s ok. If it’s too much you tell me to stop,” Bucky told you.

“No, don’t stop, please!” you whined.

“Don’t get greedy,” Bucky warned.

“Think you can handle all of me?”

“Fuck,” you muttered.

He pushed his hips further in you slowly, careful to not hurt you. His hands ran slowly up your body before curling his fingers through your hair and pulling your head up. Once he bottomed out, he rested for a minute until you were ready for him to move.

“Holy fucking hell, baby. Feel so good wrapped around my cock, shit,” Bucky groaned above you.

“I feel so- full.”

“‘S like you were made for me, pretty girl.”

Bucky’s hips began to move faster and faster pulling moans from you that was music to his ears. Bucky relished in your sex. He used every ounce of willpower in him to keep control but you felt so heavenly, so sublime. He couldn’t hold back any longer. You could tell that Bucky was holding back and you didn’t want him to. He pleasured you twice already, it was his turn to feel good and if letting go would do that for him you would let him.

“Come on, Bucky. Fuckin’ ruin me!”

“Don’t say shit like that,” he grunted, still thrusting his hips.

“I can take it, baby. Use me,” you told him.

Bucky’s hips stilled only for a second before you felt a sharp stinging on your right ass cheek.

“You want me to fuck you like a whore? Fine, I will,” Bucky growled before pulling out and flipping you over.

Bucky rammed his hips into you fast and rough. His hand went to wrap around your throat squeezing the sides and your eyes rolled back. Tears brimmed your eyes and you cried out over and over again. You felt used, corrupted, violated. You love it.

“Fuck, yes!”

“Shit, I’m gonna fucking come,” Bucky groaned.

Bucky released your throat before dipping his head in the crook of your neck. His groans and moans were muffled by your skin. Your hands wrapped around his neck and your legs too wrapped around his torso pulling his body flushed against yours. Your nails ran down Bucky’s back; he breathed in sharply through gritted teeth before moaning loudly in your ear from the pleasurable sting.

Chasing his release along with yours, Bucky’s thrusts became relentless. Animalistic. Feral, even. Everything felt overwhelming. It didn’t take much longer until you felt Bucky’s stuttering thrusts and the spurts of warm cum coating your velvety walls. Bucky completely relaxed on top of you, his breath heavily hitting your sweaty skin. You scratched his back softly coming down from your own high breathing equally as heavily.

“You feeling ok, pretty girl?” Bucky asked quietly.

“Yeah,” you whispered with a stupid grin on your face.

“You did amazing, you know?” Bucky kissed you softly; your stomach fluttering at the action.

“What now?” you couldn’t help but ask.

“Now, I’m going to take care of you,” Bucky said, hopping off you and the bed.

You laid there breathing slowly now. You didn’t have the energy to move at this point. Your inner thighs burned deliciously and the soreness began to be more apparent all over your body. Bucky came back with a warm towel and bottle of water from the kitchen. He cleaned you up with the towel and you could help the soft moans and whimpers that escaped from you. Once you were cleaned, Bucky helped you sit up and held the now open water bottle for you to hydrate yourself. You couldn’t shake the butterflies and chills you got from Bucky’s stare. He couldn’t take his eyes off you anymore; like you hung the moon and stars for him.

“What?” you asked shyly.

“Nothing,” he grinned.

“Come on. You’ve gotta go pee,” he said carrying you in his arms towards his bathroom.

“No, I just want to go to sleep already,” you whined, voice muffled in the crook of his neck.

Bucky sat on you on the toilet and waited for you to… do your business. You just sat there squirming, and shaking from the cold that hit your body.

“Come on. You have to,” Bucky explained.

“I know, but I can’t pee in front of you. I’m shy,” you mumbled.

“Seriously, I just fucked-”

“Bucky, please,” you cut him off.

“Oh alright. Come back to bed when you’re finished, pretty girl,” Bucky said before leaving you.

You couldn’t shake the smile off your face. He was being so caring and nice to you, it warmed your heart. You felt a bit of heartbreak however wondering if this was just a one time thing. You cleaned yourself again and washed your hands before snatching one of Bucky's t-shirts that laid on the floor. When you came out Bucky was fiddling with his camera that was still set-up and your heart dropped.

Had he recorded the whole thing?

“I was gonna delete all the footage, but in all honesty you look so fucking sexy. Might keep it for myself,” he said winking.

“You recorded the whole thing without telling me?” you asked, tearing up.

“I didn’t mean to. I’m not gonna post it anywhere. You sorta screamed my name a few times so footage ain’t good anyway,” he said, making you scoff and roll your eyes.

“Hey, hey. I’m kidding. I’ll delete all of it, I promise,” he cupped your face.

“Come here; I gotta do one more thing for you,” he said, laying you down on the bed once again.

“What are you doing?” Bucky grabbed another towel and some scented lotion placing it on his bedside table.

“I’m gonna give you a massage. You’ll be less sore tomorrow morning. I’ll admit I was a bit rough,” he said, kissing your belly as he lifted his shirt off your body.

“You do this to all the girls you sleep with?” you teased, not really wanting an answer but you’ll play a part if it keeps from being humiliated because of feelings.

“Only the pretty girls,” he says, fully referencing his nickname he gave you a while ago.

“And how many pretty girls might you have?”

“There’s only one,” he whispered; his hands massaging along your back slowly, sensually.

“She must be really lucky,” you whispered too, afraid of speaking too loud.

“If anything, I’d say I’m the lucky one.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, she’s… she’s perfect. Beautiful. Smart. I could go on about her.”

“She sounds like a prude,” you joked.

“She was,” he chuckled.

“But trust me, now she’s a real feisty and sexy woman,” Bucky said before biting down hard on one of your ass cheeks.

“Ow! Bucky!” you squealed, making Bucky laugh.

Bucky tossed the towel away and placed the lotion back on the bedside table before grabbing the blankets and crawling under them with you. He held you close, entangling his legs with yours, wrapping his arms around you tightly.

“You mean all that?” you asked barely audibly.

“Yeah. I do, pretty girl.”

“You don’t have to delete the video,” you smirked, making Bucky laugh out loud.

He kissed your forehead snuggling closer to you, letting peaceful sleep envelop you both.

=============================

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)

@mathletemadison​

@buckybarnes101-blog​

@l-sofiamia-l

@pluto-grl

@partr1dge

@stefans-wife

@cordeliaswhore

@fleurlovesbucky

@povsmarvel0720

@missroro

Bucky Barnes Taglist:

@stolenxkissess

@bucknastayyy38

[the-iceni-bitch]

43 & 42 & 82 with our love puppy Jensen? 😂 I sometimes really miss his somewhat innocent-but-not-really happy puppy energy.

42) “I guess I’ll just get off all by myself.”

43) “Don’t you want to play with me?

82) “Yeah, that’s it, baby, just like that.”

Yes!!!! I haven’t written for Jake in so long!!! I miss that big puppy!

It’s smut guys, eighteen and over!!!

“Jake. Hey Jensen!”

“Hmm? What’s up babe?” He said, his eyes fuzzy as he looked at you his laptop screen.

“You’ve been staring at that damn laptop for five hours. It’s 10 pm, come to bed already.” You groaned, leaning against the door frame to the kitchen.

“Honey, I’ve got to get through this firewall, it’s being such a massive bitch and I’m almost done.” He said as he gave you an apologetic smile before turning back to the screen. “You don’t hear me complaining when you spend all day... doing shit with knives.”

“Doing shit with knives? What exactly do you think my ops involve?” You asked as you rolled your eyes at him.

“St... stabbing?” He said, barely paying attention to you as he started working again.

“Right, stabbing.” You huffed. “C’mon Jake, it’s time for bed. Don’t you want to play with me?”

“Yeah, just a minute.” He murmured, and you could tell he was tuning you out as you let out a sigh.

“I guess I’ll just get off all by myself.” You whined loudly as you turned towards the bedroom.

“Ok sweetie.” He called after you. “Wait, what?!?!”

The only sound that answered him was a low vibrating hum and an obscene moan.

“Aww, man.” He muttered, chewing his lip as he tried to focus on his work.

He found it very difficult to concentrate as you started making small whimpering noises, the pitch of the vibration going up slightly and he could’ve sworn he could hear soft wet sounds accompanying it.

“Just focus, Jensen.” He told himself. “You’re a goddamn professional man.”

The cry you let out next did it for him. He stood up so fast he knocked his chair over as he made a beeline for the bedroom, removing items of clothing on the way.

He arrived to find you fucking yourself with your favorite rabbit vibrator, your thighs spread wide open and giving him a perfect view of you plunging it into your perfect pussy. The insides of your thighs were coated in slick that was still seeping out of you with every thrust as you arched your back into your hand.

“Fuck baby.” He whined as he watched you shiver, your body convulsing as your orgasm wracked you and left you breathless.

“Oh, you’re here?” You said teasingly. “Turns out I didn’t even need you, Jensen. I’ve already come three times.”

“Now, that’s just mean.” He pouted as you stared at him, propping yourself on your elbows and pulling the toy out of yourself. He groaned as he watched the thick cream of your release leak out of your swollen cunt.

“Sorry, Jakey.” You tutted at him. “Now, are you here to apologize for ignoring me all day or did you just wanna watch me fuck myself some more?”

You yelped when he pounced on top you, his fingers digging into your waist as he smashed his mouth against yours desperately.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” He mumbled into your hair as he started to trace your jaw with his lips, his hands moving to press against your ass while he started to grind his cock against your mound through his boxer briefs.

“Jesus, you break so easy, Jensen.” You purred as he sucked a bruise against your shoulder.

“Not my fault, you know all my buttons.” He pouted, pulling off his underwear and tossing them aside.

“Jake, the only button you have is ‘barest implication of the possibility of sex’.” You teased as he nuzzled himself between your breasts.

“Yeah, and you know just how to push it.” He said as he gave you a stupid grin.

He gave you no warning before he flipped you over and shoved himself inside you, his knees keeping your thighs wide open as he pressed his chest to your back and wound his fingers through yours. He started to slowly plunge in and out of you, his cock dragging over each sweet spot inside you as he fucked you in long smoothe strokes.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby, just like that.” He murmured as he brushed his lips over the back of your neck, grinning as you let out a wanton moan and tried to press your ass into him.

He was driving you crazy. The slow rocking of his hips was just enough to keep you on the edge, and from this angle his cock was hitting every spot that made your eyes roll back in your skull. His hips would grind against you at the end of each thrust, making your pussy clench around him as he barely nudged your cervix.

“Jake, I need more.” You whined, wriggling underneath him as you begged him. “Just fuck me already.”

“God, you’re so bossy.” He grumbled into your shoulder before he thrust his hips forward violently.

You were lucky he was pinning you down or the force of his hips would have bounced you off the headboard. He kept his hands wrapped around yours, his grip tight as he turned you into a whimpering mess, your pussy fluttering wildly around him as he chased his own pleasure.

“Fuck! Jake I’m gonna come!” You groaned as his hips slapped against your ass, his breath coming in ragged gasps as his cock twitched inside you.

“Shit, me too.” He groaned.

You came at the same time. You let out a shriek as your body went rigid before every muscle started spasming wildly, your cunt milking Jake’s cock as it fluttered in your release. His entire body rolled on top of you as he filled you with his seed, his hips stuttering as he painted your canal in warm white ropes.

He collapsed on top of you when you both were finished, panting into your hair. You just grinned underneath him as he smothered you.

“Run a remote program next time, Jensen.” You told him. “We could’ve been doing this all afternoon.”

[taecalikook]

Love, Rekindled.

summary : even if you’d rather cut your tongue short than to admit it, love was easy when it was with Jungkook—no matter how short it had been. yet when the guy fortuitously joined your company four months ago, he has been an expert in pulling your strings that you’ve been fighting every will to punch in his annoyingly ravishing face. but can you further deny the old feelings to rekindle when a certain company event and a group of gullible friends are involved?

{enemies2lovers! au, ex!au, professional!au}

pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (side kim taehyung)

genre : major fluff, slight angst, mutual pining and smut!

word count : 32.780 (one-shot)

warning ! fingering, sex with feelings, dirty talk, big dick, jealousy, dom(?), raw (use protection yall) its my first smut story soooooooo bear with me lol enjoy! 

=====================================

Working directly after you graduate in one of the biggest fast moving consumer goods companies in the country might be the dream. While to an extent it might be true, you realize that you have so many things to sacrifice—including your sanity and personal life.

So one dawn you spent all night working on the procurement report you have to submit to the finance team in just five hours, you are so distressed you bawl your eyes out so hard you feel like it is about to fall off. You were too loud to the point that Namjoon, your roommate, was awakened and had to console and accompany you, finishing the report for another hour until you could finally sleep.

And the next morning when you wake up after only three hours of sleep, you have to drive early in the morning to submit the signed reports to the finance team. You are not ecstatic to say the least. Not only that you had the worst night and don’t have the time to conceal your excessive eye bags, you have to submit the physical report to the most notorious, annoying person to ever exist—Jeon Jungkook.

You don’t even understand why destiny had to be that cruel to pair you with Jungkook for a tad bit too many of your tasks. He is annoying, self-centered, impolite, and probably the worst person that you have ever worked with. And it is quickly proven when you are going to submit the report and stride to his desk, finding he is still calmly typing on the laptop. Irritated by how divine he looks at eight in the morning compared with your hideous self, you slam the report right beside his laptop.

“Here it is. And once again thank you for making me change every fucking numbers in that report right the night before.” You hisses, folding your arms in front of your chest. He looks up to you with a grin, his fingers swiftly opening the report.

“I’m sorry, dear but if you wanna complain, you can directly do it to your boss.” He chuckles lightheartedly, and you roll your eyes in disgust. How can he still be this composed is beyond you. “And besides, it’s your team who mistakenly input the data. How is it my fault?”

“I can actually give you an essay for that as an answer, but I don’t want to violate the rules since we are now in working hours.” You harshly respond, tapping your feet impatiently while his eyes are skimming the report.

Another five minutes until Jungkook closes the report with a loud tap and smirk in mirth at your obvious disconcert. “So is that an invitation for a meet-up outside working hours?”

You hiss after hearing such an expected sentence coming out from the jerk. He really is that self-centered, and it shouldn’t have baffled you by now. “I hope you are very well aware that you are annoying and I don’t like you.”

“I am aware of that, beautiful. You have explicitly reminded me in every email chain—better tell me something I don’t know.”

“Nah, I don’t have anything good to say for you.” You scoff and stomp your heels around to leave him behind. The fury is still booming inside your head, so you repetitively let go of your breath, trying to detox your mind of his annoying, but forsakenly handsome face of that jerk out of your mind.

After arriving at your desk, you throw your belongings on the desk and sit on your seat after sighing loudly. It immediately attracts the attention of one of the team peers who sits beside you, Hoseok.

“Wow. Why the long face, Y/N? It’s Friday, lighten up a little.”

“I literally cannot ‘lighten up’ if I keep on working with Jeon Jungkook. Is there any way I can just… not see him or contact him even just for a day? Or even better, forever?!” You hiss while raucously opening your laptop. Hoseok chuckles in amusement.

“Y/N, I don’t know why you are so against the guy. Yes, I know he might be a little cocky—”

“A little?!” You immediately cut Hoseok, but he has been in this conversation too many times before to know that he needs to continue before you begin your patriotic speech of why Jungkook doesn’t deserve anything good in his life.

“—but he is not that bad. People, especially girls like the guy. He is great looking, charming and good with words. One of the best in his team too, even with such short time joining the company I even heard he might be promoted soon. I think you should give him a chance.” Hoseok shrugs.

You huff and stare at Hoseok in heavy betrayal painted in your face. “That’s not going to happen, Hoseok. Yes, I know people might be blind and think so highly of that cocky ass jerk, but you are my friend and should be educated about not seeing one person only by the assumption of other people. Jungkook is not as good as everyone thinks he is.”

“But why? I know you, Y/N. And I know this is not hatred only based on work—there is something else that happened.” Hoseok calmly speaks his mind, but it successfully throws you off guard. Not that you want to admit it, you are well aware that the dislike you got for the guy is not majorly caused by professional work. But you’d rather bite your hand off rather than voluntarily telling it to someone else.

Seeing how silent you have become, Hoseok immediately turns aghast. “Just a shot in the dark... Did you sleep with this guy before?”

The thought immediately puts you to shame and your face turns vermillion. God, how can he say that?! “What are you saying?!” You squeal in alarm, and you do realize you are too shocked to even speak clearly right now. Damn Hoseok and his outstanding deduction skill! “You are talking nonsense now, Hobi. Why-why would—fuck this I’m going to the restroom.”

You can hear Hoseok's distinctive laughter behind you when you stride towards the restroom, and the desire to knock your head to the wall is too much. You are literally fucked.

*

After working hours, you are finally able to escape the office and ask Namjoon to accompany you and eat in your favorite steak restaurant near both your offices. Namjoon looks at you munching on your steak like a starved woman while silently sipping his glass of red wine.

“Well, I never understood how people say they can get full only by seeing someone else eat, but I kinda get it now.”

You glare at him and hiss, stabbing the steak with your fork in pique. “Stop bothering me! I hate it. I hate everything! Work sucks, life sucks, everything sucks. And I literally don’t have any friends to hangout on friday night beside my own roommate whom I see nearly 24/7. I really had no life beside work it’s embarrassing—”

Namjoon winces, and you immediately halt every movement and stare at him in shock. You know that gaze. It literally screams apology and regret.

“About that…”

You gasp and smash your utensils in the table that few other people are glancing weirdly your way, but you cannot care enough about those prodding eyes. “No! You can’t do this to me, Namjoon! You are ditching me tonight, aren’t you?!”

He grimaces. “I’m sorry, Y/N but I promised the guys for drinking tonight. It’s already planned since god knows when, I can’t bail on them.” You sigh, massaging your aching temple. Noticing how upset you’ve been—probably due to the possibility of ending the stressful weekend only in your pajamas watching bad tv shows, Namjoon quickly continues. “But you can come if you want! We would love to have you there.”

You suddenly put your hand together, moving closer to Namjoon in vivid interest. There’s a possibility to drink your pain away tonight and you are all down for it. “I would love to! I am so stressed lately, I desperately need an outlet. I am going crazy for this work and another second just sitting around I will go mad. And I would love to hangout with the guys! It’s Seokjin, Hoseok, and the others right?!”

“Yeah… about that.” Namjoon’s hesitance is too obvious that you immediately squint your eyes in suspicion. “Yes, I’m with those guys. But there is one additional person joining us and… you won’t like it.”

You giggle at his concern, easily shrugging it away. “Who? I don’t think so, Namjoon. Don’t underestimate me, I may not be as friendly or outgoing as you are, but I can manage to meet new people well and—”

“It’s Jeon Jungkook.”

You immediately close your eyes and heave a breath, your fingers are gripping hard on the edge of the table until Namjoon literally had to move his chair a step back out of fright. It is not the first time he had to face your immeasurable wreath, and it is literally not a good sight he’d do anything to avoid it to happen ever again.

“Why?! In what circumstances would you ever hang out with that bastard?!”

“It just happened! Jimin is friends with the guy, both are from the same department as well. He is new and nice—to us, at least.” He quickly adds before you go into a screaming match yet again. “It’s harmless! And he needs friends too, Y/N. He is new in the city, and doesn't have many friends. I still have no idea how you can even hate the guy when he literally just entered his four months in town.”

You look up to Namjoon aloofly. Jungkook has no friends? What happened to the jerk you knew a few years back? He seemed to be doing well with his bunch of jerks he called as friends. “Pssh—I don’t really care about that. Just do whatever you want!” You childishly pout and continue in stabbing your steak. You know that with Namjoon you can always count on him being a brother that would gladly endure your annoying traits and childishness.

“Hey, I am sorry. Don’t be mad, okay? What if we get ice cream tomorrow, hmm?” He kindly persuades and then you are unable to prolong your fake burst. There is no way you can stay mad at him, as he is literally a heaven-sent angel to you. You don’t even know how you can stay sane if it weren’t for your kind roommate.

“M‘kay. But you’re paying and I am taking home a litre of shooting star ice cream.”

Namjoon sighs and you giggle at his easy forfeit. “You are neither easy on the eyes nor to my wallet. I hope you understand how generous I am to still want to participate in this friendship.”

“By the way, have you seen VoE email this afternoon?” Namjoon nonchalantly asks, smiling to the waitress that places his own steak. You meekly shake your head, cause ain’t nobody got time to read another email from the Voice of Employee team. You already arranged your inbox neatly and automated those emails to be placed inside the folder which named ‘emails i probably will never read ever in this lifetime’. “I shouldn’t have asked, of course you haven’t.” He continues, unimpressed and you grin devilishly at that.

“So, they announced the new employee engagement event. This year’s event is kind of a blind pen pal thingy that is arranged by Jimin.” Namjoon explains while cutting his steak in boxes. “Albeit lame, I thought it was kind of interesting. You should join, you know?”

“Pen pal?” You scrunch your eyebrow. The idea is not appalling even a little to you. “Really? What year does he think it is?”

“It could be fun! You know it must be nice meeting new people across the company. Funny that they also recommend the participant to hide their identities and stay anonymous while chatting at least for the first few weeks.”

“What? That’s so lame! Why do they have these kinds of things?!” You giggle and shake your head in.

“Actually, because people like you, Y/N. You said yourself that you had no friends and life outside work. It could be great to meet someone new and talk freely, even in the company. It’s also good that it’s anonymous in the first weeks so people won't be judgy and busy talking about work stuff and making friends instead.” Namjoon replies back and you pretend hurt at the truth shoved at your face.

“Ouch! That hurts.” You jokingly wince but nonetheless shrug. “I think it kinda made sense, but I think I’ll pass.”

“Oh, come on! It can't be that bad.” Namjoon groans at your stubbornness. “You know you have to pick an employee engagement event. If you choose to go with your boss for the fishing competition event when you know he’ll talk about work all the time, I’ll gladly say go for it. And you literally can’t even boil water, there’s no way you’ll be joining the ‘masterchef’ event. Or that singing competition! Are you kidding me? No way.”

You sigh at the reminder since Namjoon is indeed correct. There’s no way you’d be joining the other engagement events since you are talentless in nearly any other area, and whilst pretending you can cook might be interesting, the possibility of burning the whole kitchen is not since you are not risking the lives of others because of your carelessness. And singing is the one you already gave up on. You are not embarrassing yourself and be the joke of the year in front of your boss and colleagues.

“Gosh..I hate it when you are correct. I’ll think about it later, okay?” You frustratedly hiss, ruffling your hair in distress. “Let’s talk about something else, please.”

After another half an hour chatting while you finish your food, you and Namjoon quickly pay with another dramatic debate of which one of you will pay. After humorlessly swearing that you will twist his figurine if he still insists on paying, you easily win the debate and pay instead.

“So, are you going straight to the bar?” You inquire after walking out of the restaurant. Namjoon hums and swiftly picks the phone from his pocket, checking his friend’s current whereabouts.

“Nope, I think they should be here anytime soon, but—”

“Namjoon! Y/N!”

Both of your eyes quickly divert to three guys coming your way. It’s Jimin’s jovial voice calling your name, Hoseok beside him and… Jungkook. The huff instinctively comes out of your mouth after noticing the guy wearing a blue navy buttoned up shirt who irritatingly still looks too good for him. Noticing that Jungkook’s intense gaze is never diverted from you, you quickly shift your face somewhere else.

“You guys finished the dinner?” Jimin asks and you nod with a smile. “Ah, long time talking to you again, Y/N! I am sad we don’t get to work together again.”

You giggle, definitely sensing the irony in his sentence. The fact that he is assigned to another project in Finance was the biggest turning hill in your career, as it was also the point you were introduced to Jeon Jungkook, as the new hire who replaced him and whom you would be working closely with. You don’t even want to remember how stricken and betrayed you felt at that time.

“Yup, true.” You quickly smile and clearly avoid both Jungkook whom you detect is still staring at you and Hoseok who is literally glancing at Jungkook staring at you. This is getting ridiculous and you detest each awkward second spent with these men.

“Hey! You guys know that we are sending the last reminder for choosing an employee event!” Jimin suddenly chirps and you wince. “I noticed you guys haven’t been picking yours.”

“Last reminder? I thought it was just announced this afternoon.” Namjoon innocently asks while scratching his temple. Jimin instantly sighs in distress.

“I began sending it two weeks ago, Namjoon. Damn it!” He hisses and Namjoon immediately points at you.

“Y/N didn’t even read the email!” You slap his shoulder quickly in embarrassment. Jimin looks at you in disappointment and you smile, inevitably guilty for him.

“You guys are such a pain in the ass. I’ll be waiting for your emails monday morning. And please do pick the pen pal option arranged by me!” He singsongs proudly. You nod dubiously. “There’s a lot in store and I can guarantee you it would be very fun!”

You are still nodding, before looking to Namjoon. Freaking Jungkook is still reading you like you are a book, so you need to head out fast before anything unwanted happens. “So, I think I’ll head out first. You guys have fun—”

“Let’s go together! I parked in our usual.” Namjoon says and you briskly nod, your legs are desperate to put distance between you and Jungkook’s intense and unnecessary stare. You bite your tongue to hold yourself from snapping. Seriously, what is wrong with that guy?!

“Namjoon, Jungkook is going with you, he didn’t bring his car. Hoseok is pooling with me, we need to stop somewhere first.” Jimin nonchalantly mentions but you are immediately struck. Why?! Why would Jungkook pool with Namjoon? It means that you are going to spend another five minutes walking to your car parked in the basement where you’ll have to spend an elevator ride with him. Ugh, even the thought repulses you.

“Let’s go. Seokjin and Yoongi are already on the way to the bar and ten bucks say Yoongi is cranky as fuck now.” Hoseok wriggles his eyebrows at you. You reponds by mouthing him curse words as you know what he is implying. He is clearly having fun at your misery.

“Y/N, let’s go.” Namjoon quickly intercepts your clear avoidance for Jungkook by pulling you by the elbow. He gestures Jungkook to follow behind the two of you.

It was only uncomfortable silence even inside the lift that descends to the parking lot. You are this close to Jungkook, but you are still feeling his wary glances on your skin. It is too much of a burden and your last string snaps, unable to hold yourself.

“Is there something on my face?” You spit at him. Jungkook immediately looks away. Instead of answering with another trash reply, he decides to stay silent. Well, that’s new.

“So, tomorrow we need to choose an employee event. Can I sign you up for the pen pal one?” Namjoon asks suddenly, probably trying to take your minds off things, especially the fury you have for Jungkook.

“Namjoon, I don’t think so. At this rate I think I’ll just join that fishing one.”

Suddenly, an unexpected voice behind you is heard. “I don’t know, but they say fishing needs patience and you clearly are lacking that one, Y/N.”

You immediately throw your head back and glare at Jungkook. He nonchalantly looks back like he did not just diss you. “The fuck you say?!”

“I said what I said. I thought you’d know that by now.” He smiles civilly, and you just know he is the one begging you to snap and scratch your claws at him.

“Come here you little shit—“

Namjoon instantly holds you by the waist, stopping all your movement. “Y/N, don’t! Let’s go now.” He reliably holds you and leads you back to your car until Jungkook is safely out of your sight.

“Y/N, enough. It doesn’t matter. Just go home and take some rest.” He persuades and you have to take multiple breathes in and out to calm yourself. “I know you are angry but please don’t run him with your car.” He jokes, but you immediately form a chilling smirk with your lips.

“That’s a great idea, actually.” You vigorously pat your wheels.

“Y/N, I was joking, please—“

You giggle at his clear fright. “I’m joking too. I’m okay, Namjoon. He was just being a jerk again. I got used to it. That’s not even the most hurtful thing he said to me. I’m fine.”

Namjoon heaves a breath and moves to pat your head with a grin. “You gave me a fright, you fool. Drive save, okay? Let me know when you’re home.”

You hum and Namjoon moves to close your door. You move your car and catch Jungkook standing on the side. He was waving at you with a condescending smile, the one you answer by flipping him off.

*

It’s been nearly two in the morning. You are exhausted, but your body is still too much alive to be sleeping right now. At times, your body is still accustomed to your college routine when you’d only be sleepy when there’s still so much to do. Usually at these times, you would be watching movies with Namjoon, commenting on every single thing you can comment about the movie while he’d do anything to shut you up.

Already going to the sixth episode of your netflix series, you glance at your phone. Speaking of Namjoon, you notice that he hasn’t given you any signs of going back home. He always does, especially when drinking out with friends. The thought suddenly scares you that something might have happened to him, so you quickly dial his number.

Three beeps and finally someone picks up. “Hello? Namjoon? Where are you? Are you not coming home? If you’re not you should’ve told me sooner!”

An incoherent groan is heard along with a faint voice of someone you’d rather not mention. Another seconds of silence until an abrupt deafening, slurry voice is heard. It’s still him. Jeon Jungkook. “Y/N, can you help us? Namjoon passed out and I am not completely sober enough to drive. Come here and get us, please?”

“Ugh, get a taxi! It’s freaking two in the morning, I don’t want to go.” You groan, even if inside you are contemplating. Namjoon is drunk, and he brought his car with him. You’ll not be able to sleep if knowing he is out there drunk and in need of help. “Where are the others? Can’t they get you home?”

Five seconds of awkward whimpering of Jungkook babies himself, refusing to give Namjoon’s phone to someone else. It turns out to be Yoongi, also your workmate from IT. ”Y/N? Y/N! I am so happy you picked up. Can you get these guys? Everyone here beside me is drunk, and this petite body of mine can only take Hoseok and Jimin since they’re in my building as well. Can you please get your huge ass roommate home?”

You sigh, aloofly agreeing to help Yoongi. The place they are drinking is not far from your apartment, so not even bothering to change your peppa pig pajamas, you overlay it with a peach sweater and hitch a taxi right after.

Not even fifteen minutes on the way you finally arrive. The bar itself was rather vacant, the music has changed, and you can immediately detect a group of moron on the corner booth of the bar, looking severely drunk. Detecting your presence, Yoongi instantly lightens up.

“Y/N! Y/N thank god.” Yoongi exhales. “I really fucking desprate to go home. Can you bring Namjoon and Jungkook together? Jungkook lives near your apartment, and he is not that drunk. Just drop him off in front of his buildings, or whatever.”

You groan in distaste. “Really? I really have to bring this guy with me?” You peer your squinted eyes at Jungkook who is limping to stand beside you.

Jungkook rests his palm on your shoulder with an intoxicated smile, wiggling his eyebrows. “Yes. Let me come along, Y/N. I promise we’ll have fun, hmm?”

You instantly push him away in disgust, the empathy you surprisingly have for him has disappeared into thin air. “I’m not getting in any car with you, jackass. Have a great time sleeping on the street.”

Yoongi groans at your stubbornness. It is not an uncommon sight as he is already well informed of your bad blood with Jungkook. “Y/N, for the love of god please stop arguing with a drunk idiot and lets just go fucking home.”

Still scowling, you move to wake up Namjoon, circling his arms around your shoulder. Jungkook is somehow still sober enough to voluntarily help you carrying the giant to his car. After safely securing Namjoon on the back, you stride to the driver seat and Jungkook follows to sit on the passenger seat  beside you. Driving out, it was only cold silence inside the car that you have to glance to see if Jungkook is asleep. It turns out he is not sleeping, instead catching him stealing glances at you.

“What the hell are you looking at?” You frown at him. He shrugs, diverting his eyes to the window. Another three minutes of silence until he opens his voice.

“Are you dating Namjoon?”

You stare at him, befuddled. What the fuck is he prattling about? “I am quite certain it is none of your business. Why are you asking anyway?”

“Nothing, just a question. You don’t have to answer.” He somberly responds, not mimicking the edge in your tone the way you expect him to. It leaves a sour taste in your tongue, feeling guilty in such a strange way.

“Namjoon and the other asked me why we hate each other so much.”

At the sudden information, your body tense. Namjoon asked him? Did he possibly tell the guys about what happened between the two of you? Even the thought only scares your whole being. “And what did you say?”

He heaves a deep breath once again. “I said I don’t not hate you. You may hate me, but I never hate you.”

The answer and his tone is astoundingly civil, so you glance at him in confusion. Hard to believe it is him talking right now. “What are you saying?”

He massages his temple. “I never hate you, Y/N. I know. I know what happened between us. And even if it’s too late, I know I was wrong and you have all rights to be furious at me.”

The fingers you have on the wheel tightens. You don’t know why you feel this way. The moment Jungkook acknowledges the mistakes he has made, it seems like everything shifts into a different light. You bit your lips in irresolution. Is it actually you who is too irrational not to let go something that is clearly in the past?

As if not realizing your current distress, Jungkook continues. “I know there is no time we’re not at each other’s throat, but I always wanted to ask how you’ve been. Are you living okay? How is your family, is everything good now?”

At his questions, you find yourself snapped. You don’t need it. You don’t need his sympathy. All things he said are never going to change what he did, and frankly it is too hard to imagine he might have changed. You had enough of him and his bullshit and one thing you will never do is to repeat history again. You are not that much of an idiot.

“Save it, Jungkook. I don’t want to hear it.” You shakily say, the tears are already swarming at the corner of your eyes. “I’ve had it enough. I am not going back again to that phase again. You hurt me, bad. And I’m not an idiot whom you can fool around with and will be there at your doorstep the moment you want it.”

“Y/N, I—”

You immediately step on the break that jerks everyone inside the car including you. “This is your apartment, right?” If you’re explicit gesture for him to fuck off is not clear, you don’t know what is—but it seems like he understands well enough and reluctantly nods. Releasing his seatbelt, he gazes at you again, eyes swarming with anonymous emotion.

“Just so you know, I never told them anything—what happened between us, I mean. I’ll never say that to anybody. If you still hate me this much, I know it’s not my place to tell.”

You are still unmoving, only looking straight ahead as he dejectedly continues. “I know this is wistful thinking, but I wish we can sometime talk, Y/N. Just talk. Like two people who are not desperate to hurt each other, or to bicker, or anything.”

You shift your head, ironically smirk at him with tears already falling down your face. Talk? Now he wants to talk to you? Does he think you’re a joke? He is a bastard and you should’ve known better than to deal further with him again.

“Well, maybe you’ve lost your chance to talk when you told me to fuck off that time.”

*

After spending all weekend balled up inside your blanket while Namjoon constantly queried you about what happened, it is finally Monday morning. You woke up in a troubled mood, all because the first thing you do in the morning is to prepare for the 8.30 meeting you have with your boss and team, in which one person from finance is invited and it is freaking Jeon Jungkook. You literally have no idea what happened to your luck, since everything seems to be going downhill recently.

Arriving exactly in time, you can see two of your planning teammates, Hoseok and Jungkook are already seated. You greet them and directly take a seat beside Hoseok, silently opening your laptop to prepare the meeting, trying to be as nonchalant as ever. You notice that Jungkook is avoiding your eyes at all costs, and you are grateful for it. Your boss arrives directly in a minute, and then the meeting starts.

An hour into the meeting, your boss finally concludes. While you are arranging your belongings, your boss unexpectedly asks. “Y/N, for the employee engagement. Which one do you choose? If you’re still unsure, you should pick fishing. We can team up, and maybe talk about the project—”

The thoughts alone scares you and you abruptly answer in panic. Inside you are cursing Namjoon and his great predicting skills. “No, sir. I am picking the pen pal one. Might be great to meet and make new friends.”

He nods in understanding, and right after he walks out of the meeting room Hoseok chuckles. “Smart choice, Y/N. Otherwise you'll be stuck discussing work and faking laughs all the time.”

Smiling, you look up to Jungkook who stands near you. You feel the cold of nerves over his intimidating presence.

“Gotta go, talk to you another time.”

He quickly walks out, a tad bit surprising to both you and Hoseok. There is something different about Jungkook—he is not the confident, all-rounders man he used to be. There is a hint of rush in his voice and you might have an idea why.

*

“So, have you received your pen pal username?”

You look up to Namjoon, before re-reading the email Jimin sent to you yesterday about the person you are going to be anonymously chatting with. You’ve already downloaded the chatting applications, signing up yourself yesterday and now it’s you who should add and start the chat.

“Yes. I have, actually.” You breath out, before throwing it back on the sofa. “I don’t even know why I’m nervous! This doesn’t make sense. This is just talking, Y/N. Get your shit together.”

“I am now chatting with a certain person, username doofenshmirtz.” Namjoon mentions while typing on his phone. “I don’t know whether this is a good sign that she or he loves doctor doofenshmirtz or just another heartless jerk like anybody else.”

“Well if it's the preceding, he or she is indeed a keeper.” You hum in agreement, finally braving yourself to add. But now you have to begin the chat! God, this is indeed a struggle. “I am so awkward. What do people usually say to introduce themselves?”

“Well, most people usually go with a simple ‘hello’.”

You sigh at Namjoon’s useless advice, but when you are typing, sudden pop up chats arrive, shocking you altogether.

91snowball : wow, this really work [21:38]

91snowball : tell me if i’m correct or fuck it i’ll just delete this app now [21:39]

“Snowball is chatting with me right now!” You freak out, raise to your knees in tension. “Namjoon, what should I do! I don’t know what to say!”

Namjoon weirdly glances at you, then proceeds to continue whatever he is doing on his phone. “Just say something. Why are you thinking about it too much…”

blueberry_25 : yes i think we are pen pals😅 [21:40]

91snowball : ah, finally [21:40]

91snowball : so get this, blueberry_25. Which one travels faster? hot or cold [21:40]

Your eyebrows wrinkle at the unexpected riddle, but giggle otherwise. “My pen pal just asked me a riddle. Which one travels faster, hot or cold.”

Namjoon groans in disgust. “If the answer is hot because you can catch a cold you better block that person right now. That’s super fucking lame, what the hell.”

blueberry_25 : did you just search ice breaking riddles at google because i read the same one you asked me lol [21:42]

91snowball : wtf haha thats embarrassing but since you did too im fine 🥴 [21:43]

But soon enough, you find yourself chatting to snowball until nearly two in the morning. It is beyond you how easy it is to talk with him, about the recent movies, your unending love for how i met your mother, his addiction to brooklyn nine nine, and a little about each other. You know he is a male around your age (as you decide not to disclose age, just range) and he loves skiing. You tell him about your love of classical and grunge music—in which fascinates him due to the heavy contrast of the two—and ending it with a debate about which music defines puberty the most, my chemical romance or fall out boy. Both of you agree to end it with a draw.

In the end, snowball kindly reminds you you should be sleeping and have a good rest for tomorrow’s work. Reluctantly agreeing, you thank him and say you’re looking forward to the next chat. Even with the exhaustion you feel, you can only fall asleep after reading your exhilarating chat with him for one more time.

You forget how easy it is to talk to someone new. Or maybe you have been trying to forget you ever did.

*

Walking to your desk, you rest all your belongings and open your laptop. Hoseok beside you instantly slides his chair next to yours, eyes squinted and eyebrows scrunched.

“Why the fuck are you singing in nine in the morning, that’s so unlike you.”

You look at him in confusion. Are you singing? You did not even realize. “Oh, am I singing? Sorry if it bothers you, I didn’t know.”

The horrified look in Hoseok’s face is getting prominent. “You literally never apologize in the mornings. You always have a foul mood with an ugly frown on your face. Tell me who kidnapped you! Are you even Y/N?!”

You roll your eyes at his dramatic response. “Yes, I know I haven’t been in the best mood lately, but just let me live, okay? And why is this chocolate on my desk, this is yours.”

Hoseok looks at the ferrero rocher leaning on your desk with the small card on it. “It’s not mine. But let me check.” He swiftly takes the chocolate and pulls the card, his eyes scanning the words written on it. Five seconds passes before the mirth is detected on his face.

“This is not mine, this is for you.”

Flustered, you quickly take the card back from Hoseok’s grasp and read it. Someone is sending you chocolate, along with a hot pack glued on the back, and you don’t have any idea who or why.

It might be a little cold since it’s November soon, so here's a hot pack and also chocolate for you. Hope you’re having a great day today, Y/N!

“Wow, a secret admirer? The fuck, this is 2020–who does that anymore.” Hoseok cringes while getting back to his seat. Even so, he quickly opens his skype with a mischievous smile on his face. What an obvious moron, he giggles to himself.

*

“I told you a million times it is not me, Y/N.”

It is lunch at your office cafeteria, while Namjoon looks at you in distress at your accusation of him sending the chocolate you also bring with you to lunch. Hoseok is silently sitting in front of both of you, with Yoongi and Jimin on both his sides.

“But who else? There is no one supportive enough to send me a chocolate and a freaking hot pack beside you.” You huff while cutting your broccoli. Namjoon sighs, glancing at Hoseok discreetly.

“Even though I’m honored that I’m the only one who is strong enough to be your emotional support, it’s not me, and—“

“Enough about that! Hey, how’s it going with your pen pal?” Jimin suddenly asks, a wide smile on his face. You expect Jimin to ask the question to anyone, so when you notice the table is too silent you find everyone is peering at you.

“Why are you asking me?! Ask Hoseok.”

“It was so so. A man from HR.” Hoseok nonchalantly answers. “And we only introduced ourselves last night.”

“Mine was fine! She’s a girl from procurement.” Namjoon smiles. “But yeah, we just introduced ourselves last night. Maybe I should talk to her again today.”

“I just knew he is a guy. I didn’t really know where he’s from, but he’s around my age. It was great! He was very kind, and we had fun.” You nod silently.

“Fun? You literally were laughing like a hyena at 2 in the morning. I heard it through the wall.” Namjoon snorts and you side-glare him. Namjoon’s loose lips again, what’s new. “I figure it must be your pen pal, right? What ‘fun’ were you having, Y/N?”

“You’re literally disgusting, Namjoon.”

“Hey, Jungkook! Sit here!”

You instantly look up, finding Jungkook’s eyes peering at your desk, a tray of food in his grasp. You don’t really know why, you really thought he was heading to your table—but when his eyes find yours, he immediately pauses on his step. “Ah, sorry but I am here with someone.” He thinly smiles and excuses himself.

Unable to hold yourself, you look to your back and find him sitting with the tables of girls whom you recognize is also in finance. You are not certain if it is only you, but those girls really seem to be too amazed at his presence, instantly leeching themselves to him. Even if it’s not really a strange view to you, it is difficult to hold back your scoff.

Same old, same old.

*

You are waiting in the lobby of your office for Namjoon, since you are not bringing your car with you today. He said he’ll come down soon, so you are waiting patiently—but then a pair catches your attention from the corner of your eyes. It is Jungkook and Seojoo—the one you recognize also from Finance who was also at lunch with him.

You don’t even realize your eyes are squinted at those two, along with a scowl on your face. But at the possibility of being caught, you instinctively divert your eyes and duck your head to the other side. Even still Jungkook somehow is still able to capture you and head to your side. At that you internally curse.

“Y/N, why are you here? You’re not heading home?” He asks in concern, closing to you while your eyebrows wrinkle at his so-called familiarity. What is he doing talking so assertively—does he really think you are on that basis with him?

“I’m waiting for someone.” You curtly answer, not even a shift in your expression.

“Who?”

You look at him while scrunching your eyebrows. What the hell does he think he has a right to ask you that? “No one. It’s okay, I’m going home.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to go with us? Seojoo here is pooling with me—Ah, sorry I was impolite. Do you know each other?” Jungkook asks, like he is suddenly waking up that there is someone beside the two of you. Holding back your snort, you put a strict smile and offer your hand to the woman who is not even concerned to hide even a bit of her judgmental eyes at you.

“Seojoo.” She whispers which you mutter your name as a response and fuck is it awkward. You can obviously feel that Seojoo is marking his territory around Jungkook and you don’t fancy it one bit. Why does she have to feel that way towards you?

“Seojoo, you said you are going to the restroom. Aren’t you going?” Jungkook suddenly asks after your short and tense introduction. At that, Seojoo is bewildered, presumably bothered by the thought of leaving you alone with him, like you are going to eat him up right after she leaves. Fuck, what is wrong with her...

She hesitates, “I’m fine, though—”

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ll be waiting here. You can go.” Jungkook amicably says with a wide smile, and the insecure chick had no other option than to comply. After she leaves, his prodding eyes are immediately focused on you.

“Can you just say to that fling of yours that I am just a nobody? I will not steal you, damn it. If looks can kill I’ll already bleed to death right now.” You scowl in irk. But just seeing your scowl somehow brings giggles to his smile. “Why are you laughing, you dumbass?”

“You know what, if I’m that presumptuous I’d think you are jealous right now.”

You scrunch your nose, severely abhorred by his annoying big head. “But you are that presumptuous.”

“Exactly.”

Irritated, you push him by the chest until he erupts in loud laughter. “Fuck, why should I be jealous? We are literally nothing and will never be more than that—Gosh, we’re not even friends.”

“Well that’s just saddening.” He frowns while clutching on his chest even though he cannot say it’s not expected. “What are you saying, Y/N? We are more than that, we go way back and you know it.”

You hum and fake a contemplating expression. “Hmm, you’re right but I’m drawing blanks here. How did it go again?”

The wide mischievous grin on his lips dims, shifts into a thin smile. “I could not change the past, I know. But you know regardless of what happened—”

“I’m done.” Seojoo suddenly says, clings on Jungkook’s arm that it stops whatever words he is about to say and you are kind of thankful for that. “We can go now.”

Finally detecting Namjoon tapping out to the lobby in such perfect timing, you send both of the morons a lofty grin. “I should go. You guys have fun, but don’t forget a condom, okay?” You turn your gaze to flabbergasted Seojoo. “Or you know what? Maybe you should prick on it too, so then he’ll stay forever. But if I were you, I wouldn’t count on it. Good luck!”

You can sense the jaw drops at such provocative statements coming out of you, but you don’t even give an ounce of care and leave the scene. After managing to humiliate or hurt both of them, you feel good. You feel strong. However, when Namjoon is at your side and glances at you, he shouts, utterly stupefied.

“Y/N, why—why are you crying?!”

*

It’s eleven pm, you are still settled inside your blanket. You are physically tired, but still your mind is too conflicted to sleep. Half is because of your work, and the other half is caused by that freaking jerk, Jeon Jungkook.

You despise the fact that you are still thinking about him. You suppose to be hating on that guy, but even the hatred is too difficult to maintain right now with his strangely devoted and warm self. Even if it’s a hard to swallow pill, you know you’re enjoying the banter with him. God, you are fucking weak for Jungkook and you hate it.

Rolling in your bed, you try to remember the bad things he has done for you. Forgetting you, abandoning you, playing with your heart like it did not matter—but it eventually ends with the treasured moments with him you wish will never resurface again. Like the moment he holds you all night after your parents fight. Or the moment he defends your honor like it matters the most. Or the moment he first kissed you that fateful, rainy night. Everything is coming back to you now like a trainwreck.

Suddenly among your wandering thoughts, your phone rings. Heaving deeply, you pick up to detect a new message on your anonymous chatting apps. It’s snowball.

91snowball : hi hi hi hi hi what are you doing [23:02]

91snowball : are you sleeping no you cant be sleeping dont sleep on me blue [23:02]

Chuckling, you proceed to type a response.

blueberry_25 : hahaha im not sleeping [23:03]

blueberry_25 : i can’t sleep. Too much thoughts [23:03]

91snowball : care to share? I swear im a good listener [23:05]

91snowball : someone bothering you at work? let me know and ill gass ‘em up for u blue [23:05]

blueberry_25 : really? you’d do that for me?  [23:06]

91snowball : of course just tell me who it is they’ll be gone by tomorrow [23:06]

blueberry_25 : lol it’s nothing. Im just confused [23:07]

blueberry_25 : have u ever been confused about someone? Like u thought u hate them but… its hard to say you do [23:09]

You don’t even know why you just have the urge to tell a stranger about your current contemplation about Jungkook. You desperately need a third perspective on this, and maybe just telling it to someone that wouldn’t know and judge you might be a good change for once.

91snowball : why do u hate them? [23:09]

Blueberry_25 : he hurt and lied to me. when i thought there was something real, he was just in for fun and i should hate him. but why is it so hard to say so now? [23:10]

It’s true. Jungkook was someone you thought you’d love. You trust him so much that you opened up to him better than anyone else, and thought something was there. But all of it was just a lie—he was just in for the thrill. All because of his annoying male ego that made you realize he was just a patronizing jerk that used you for his own benefit and left when he’s done. He is the reason you are insecure about meeting someone new. He is the evil one.

91snowball : maybe because they changed? I know its hard to believe but people change too [23:12]

blueberry_25 : maybe… [23:14]

91snowball : what i’m saying, maybe you should give them a chance to explain? [23:15]

91snowball : but if they’re still the same, punch them and never see them again [23:16]

91snowball : you don’t want to be thinking about it forever, blue. just give the closure your heart deserves [23:17]

He is right, you desperately need closure with Jungkook so you can finally move on with your life—but even the thought scares you. A question arises inside your head that settles strangely in your chest—a question that answers why all your pain and resentment are still so vivid even after years have passed.

Closure with Jungkook scares you… Because you do not know if you’re ready to close it.

*

Another late night, but you are still sitting at your desk. All of your teams already went back, and Namjoon told you he went home an hour ago. He did offer to keep you company, but you quickly refuse, saying you’re doing alright on your own—but now you indeed start to regret your decision. You hate being alone, especially at night but you really need to finish the planning report asap for finance to check again. Seriously, these endless tasks are going to be the death of you.

“Why is this—” You furiously tap on backspace, anger rises inside your head. You have no idea why the recent planning process has too many hiccups like this. The data given to you is not tally, and you don’t even know why. There must be something wrong.

Among the stress inside your head, your eyes fall at the lilies resting on your desk and smiles. Your eyes linger on the notes stuck on it for already the nth time already today.

Here’s beautiful lilies for you. Hope you have a great day too today, Y/N!

“Hey, you are still here?”

Surprised, you abruptly look up, finding Jungkook’s concerned face at you. You release a deep breath of relief. “I thought you went home, it’s pretty late.” He continues apprehensively.

You clear your throat, suddenly finding it a bit hard to speak with the realization that it’s only the both of you on the whole level. “Yes, haven’t finished the report I need to submit. No worry, I’ll submit it soon.”

He carefully slides and sits on Hoseok’s seat beside you. “I’m okay if you submit this tomorrow. You should head back, you must be tired.”

“Nah, it’s okay. I just want to finish this tonight, head home and sleep.” You give him a short, civil smile before continuing your work. “You can go home if you want to. I’m okay.”

“I think I’d rather stay. My cousin is having ‘dinner’ with his girlfriend right now, god knows what I might go home to.” He lightly jokes, and it kinda works in entertaining you a little. You know based on your resentment to him you should curtly answer or ask him to leave, but you do know that you’d rather have someone as company right now, even though it has to be Jeon Jungkook.

“You got flowers?” He pensively asks after minutes of silence, raising his eyebrow.

You glance at him staring at the lilies at your desk. Suddenly, your throat dries and you don’t even know why. “Y-yes.”

“From who?”

“I.. I don’t know. Someone put this on my desk this morning.” You whisper, more to yourself. You hate yourself for explaining when you have the right not too, but deep down, this shameless part you are expecting Jungkook might be the one sending all these gifts. You know it makes no sense whatsoever—but involuntarily you are still foolishly hoping so. Yes, you are that delusional.

“A note too? Wow, a secret admirer. How poetic.” He sneers, then shifts his gaze back to his screen. At the obviously sarcastic tone, you scoff in irritation. What a jerk.

“You have a problem with that? What—jealous that you never have someone you truly care to give gifts to?”

He meaningfully stares at you, making it difficult to breathe. “It’s not true and you know it.”

At your befuddled expression, Jungkook sighs, not even wanting to prolong the debate. “But no. None whatsoever. I don’t care, it has nothing to do with me anyway.”

You bite your lips in evident shock and disappointment, and try your best to make the unpleasant thoughts disappear. Did he just implicitly address your past together? About the time he gave you a gift you could never forget for your whole lifetime? About the time when you foolishly thought he was someone you could give your heart to?

A few minutes passed in deep, tense silence and Jungkook is sitting beside you now, working on his own tasks. He is so focused on the screen, with his lean fingers stroking his chiseled jaw and he leans to the seat, eyebrows scrunching like something is bothering him so much. And the scar prominent on his upper left cheek is as palpable as ever, and you notice how much he has changed, but still hasn’t. Jungkook grew up really well from the last time you saw him a few years back. No wonder all the girls are flocking on him like he is a magnet or whatever.

“Hey, Y/N, get this.” Jungkook suddenly turns to you, and albeit surprised, you are trying to look as unfazed as ever—like you did not just spend minutes to admire his attractive features. Even if your face heats up at the possibility of Jungkook finding out your antics. “I see the reports from the planning and other supply chain teams are not tally. This has been going, since approximately two months ago. Do you have any idea why?”

You squint your eyes at the reports. Yes, it is the data you get from Junsu, the new-hire for your team. “I don’t really know why. I got this data from Junsu, he said he received it from the plant team.”

“I really think we should check this. I’m not sure.” Jungkook whispers, chewing on his lower lips. Another seconds of silence passes before he notices your intimidating stare on his face. “...everything okay, Y/N? Something’s bothering you? Are you tired?”

Fuck, you really spend those seconds staring at the way he chewed his lips. There must be something wrong in your head now. “No—no.. I’m just.. Yes! Yes, I’m tired. I think I need to go home.”

Jungkook nods in all seriousness while you are packing your belongings. You need to flee, fast. “Yes, you really should go home and rest. Let’s talk about this tomorrow again, hmm?”

“Yes, yes! Okay, see you tomorrow.” You hastily smile, quickly escape the room without minding his voice calling your name. Damn, you need to set your head straight. It is Jeon Jungkook you’re talking about here. You can’t be weak for him.

*

The night passess in a blink, and then the morning arrives a tad bit faster than you expect it to. Especially since you wake up to your boss' message, ordering you to come to his desk right after you arrive at the office—which means a disaster happened and you are not mentally prepared for that.

“Y/N, why the hell the sales director called and yelled at me?” Is your boss’ first sentence when you enter his room. You gulp instinctively, then move to proceed to sit because you know it won’t be over before it’s too long.

Another hour and you came out from the room looking as exhausted as ever. There is some mistake in either the planning and manufacturing side that creates untally numbers in reports between units which then escalates to the higher management. And now you have to manually check the numbers without the intervention of people and present it by tomorrow afternoon, which means you will have to go to the plant as of right now—it’s two and a half hours drive from your office.

Feeling terribly unfit to drive due to the pain in your head, you choose to get there by train—in which you spend by checking the numbers again for the first hour, but the pain in your head is getting unbearable and you decide to sleep it off. Few hours later, you finally arrive at the plant, weakly entering the office side of the plant. Upon finding a space to place your belongings, someone immediately catches your attention, finding him talking with a group of people and a stack of paper on his grasp. Are your eyes lying to you right now? Is he really here?

“...Jungkook?”

Hearing his name is called, Jungkook instinctively looks back to find your confused expression. The shock in his expression is palpable too. “Y/N? You’re here.”

“What are you doing here?”

He looks bewildered at your simple question. “I-I am talking to—to these people. Umm.. for my reports.”

Your eyebrows raised, as he should be coordinating with plant finance folks instead of your team. “But they are in supply chain.”

Jungkook is abashed, you sense it clearly. “Y-yes, I just—can we talk about this later? You can join us if you want, this might help you too.”

Decide to ignore the strange fact that he is here, you and Jungkook spend another hour talking to the manufacturing team, and then manage to get the in hand documentations of work orders. After settling inside the empty cubicle, you look at Jungkook who is already eagerly jumping into the documentations. “Hey. Are you here to help me?”

Jungkook looks at you, avoids your eyes and clears his throat. “No, of course not. Why would I? What’s in it for me? You’re talking nonsense now, Y/N.”

“But this shouldn’t be your job to go to the plant and check all the data.” You whisper, more to yourself while looking at the overwhelming stack of papers. “Why are you doing this?”

He suddenly stops, and looks at you with all seriousness painted on his eyes. “Don’t sweat on it, Y/N. Let’s just finish this and get to the bottom of it asap, okay? I am here to help.” Jungkook whispers and manages to silence your retaliation. Yes, you know you are seriously in need of help right now. Doing this alone will not be as helpful as having Jungkook with you, especially having to present the result by tomorrow afternoon—it makes no sense to do it alone.

Two months worth of documentation is a lot and overwhelming. And even after six hours working on it, you can only focus on the amount of work you still need to go through. The looming pain inside your head is not helping either.

“Hey, hey, you are pale, Y/N. What’s wrong?” Jungkook instantly stops when he detects you are unmoving, resting on your chair while closing your eyes. You yourself do not know why you are feeling so unwell today. “Hey, you haven’t eaten, right? Damn it, your blood pressure—wait here, I’ll grab you something to eat.”

Ah, that must be it. You just realized you haven’t eaten anything today beside one slice of bread in the morning. Especially with the low blood pressure, it must be taking a toll on you. But one thing that catches your attention is the fact Jungkook remembers your condition even after all these years—it settles strangely inside your chest.

In no time he is already back with a paper bag. “Here, I brought you this. Let’s eat in the pantry.” He immediately holds you by the shoulder, helping your weak legs to walk to the pantry. After ensuring you are sitting well, he opens the food box and juice and offers you the utensils. “I bought the first thing I saw, this should be good for your blood pressure. Eat.”

You nod thankfully and proceed to eat. After three spoons and a few minutes, you can finally breathe clearly. But as you see that Jungkook is just looking at you expectantly, you feel severely self-aware. “You’re not eating too?” You ask shyly.

Jungkook smiles and scratches his nape abashedly. “Sorry, ‘was so rushed that I forgot to buy one for me.”

He forgot to buy one for himself but buy this one for you? You instinctively offer him the food. “Eat this, then. We can share.”

Jungkook kindly rejects with a smile. “No, I’ll buy something else. Yours is too healthy for me.” He jokes and walks out of the pantry. Finally alone, you stare at the food in front of you, somehow frowning.  

*

“I really think we should go back.” Jungkook stubbornly says after the nth time debating whether you should stay in the office or go back to your two hours away apartment. The answer should be easy—you have to stay back since tomorrow you will be meeting another plant team. Especially since it’s already seven in the evening, and the plant is closing off soon. “But you need to rest! Stop forcing your body, you moron. You seriously can be sick because of your stubbornness, you know?”

“I’ve been through this! You should’ve seen me in college, I do this every single time. I’m good and alive now. See?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, folding his arms to his chest. “Really? And tell me how’d it go again?”

You wince at the remembrance that you were bedrested more than you’re proud of, all because of your bad habits of staying late and overworking yourself. A question arises inside your head, but you briskly push it away. “You know Jungkook, you’re worse than my aunt, you know that?”

He giggles, showing his bunny teeth that somehow knocks the air off your chest. That heartfelt smile, you remember it like it was yesterday. “If you want, we can stay near here somewhere and continue the work. You need to sleep, and in the morning we can go back to the plant.”

“I’ll check the nearest hotel. Get ready, after this we’ll leave, okay?” He says while walking further from your desk. You bite your lips, silently nodding.

Suddenly, your phone rings. It’s Namjoon. You gasp, remembering that you haven’t let him know you are going to be away for work. “Hello, Namjoon?”

“Hey, where are you? I went to your desk two times today, thinking you had a meeting or anything. You haven’t even returned my calls or messages.” He hisses with obvious worry lacing his voice. “When will you be home?”

“Ah, I don’t think I’m going home today. I’m at the plant, have urgent work to finish so I’ll stay in a nearby hotel.”

“Is it safe? Are you okay? Do you want me to pick you up?” The worry and hurry instantly doubles the moment he heard you’ll be staying far away. You giggle, noticing how Namjoon is already too accustomed in taking care and worrying about you.

“It’s fine, you don’t need to worry. By the way, Jungkook is also here—”

“Jungkook?” He immediately cuts you, clearly confused. “The Jeon Jungkook? Your archenemy?”

“Yup.”

Two seconds of silence. “And he’ll be staying with you? In the same hotel?”

“The same hotel, yes! But not the same room. I know what you’re thinking, Namjoon, but it’s nothing—”

Namjoon tauntingly laughs that makes you totally self-conscious of your own skin. “Ah, the beautiful, old devil’s tango you both play. I have nothing to worry about, then. Tell me how it goes, okay? Bye, Y/N, remember to use protection. I’m not ready to be an uncle.”

“The fuck—”

But Namjoon is already cut off, and now you are staring harshly at your phone, your grasp is sucking the life out of your phone. Fuck Namjoon! You know you should never trust a guy who literally ruined a good pair of sunglasses he just bought. Seriously.

“I got one.” Jungkook suddenly interrupts your busy thoughts, walking to your side with a large frown in his lips. “But can you believe it? He said there is a concert near here tomorrow so all the rooms are full beside one large suite, and the other nearest hotel is like eleven kilometers away. What do you think?”

At his statement, your sight is suddenly blurry—all you can think about is fucking Namjoon and what he just said to you.

Ugh, you hate how statistics shows that he is often right, like 95% of the time...

*

Thinking you have no other choice than to get the one room left, you accept your fate that you have to be in one room with Jeon Jungkook for the rest of the night. Even if the suite only has one king-size bed, you get a compensation of a large suite that the distance you have with him may be kept well—and Jungkook agreed that he will not make any funny business on you after you ultimately warn him that you’ll be submitting charges if he even tries to.

“Y/N, I am not a sexual offender or anything. I will not do anything against your consent.” Jungkook sighs for the nth time as a reply to your threat of stabbing him with a fork. Again. “But it’s a different case if you’re willing…” You instantly send a lethal punch to the guy’s shoulder until he whimpers of pain. “What the—that hurts! I was kidding!”

“I was not kidding.” You roll your eyes, folding your arms on your chest. “This is a bad idea. I don’t even know what I should wear. I don’t want to sleep in my work clothes—and I have to be in a room with a pervert. Can’t you just sleep outside?”

He smirks while stealing glances at you. “You can always sleep naked and I won’t be complaining.”

“Fuck you.”

Jungkook greasily winks at you. “With pleasure.”

You groan in disgust. “God, you’re still the same, annoying piece of shit you were a few years back. I can’t believe this.”

“Well, you dated this piece of shit years ago, so…”

You look at him weirdly. Dated? What is he saying now.. “We were not dating. It was just a fling, you know it.”

Jungkook stares at you, with undeciphered emotions painted on his eyes. “We.. we weren’t?”

“No.”

He clears his throat, his cheeks are suddenly turning red. Your eyebrows slant at the thick air between the both of you. “Y-yes. Yes, of course it wasn’t. I was joking.” He continues with a forced laughter.

You slowly nod, clearing your throat out of sheer awkwardness. What happened between the two of you that time—it was a mere fling. It took nearly months to admit it was just that and nothing more, and now why is he here saying that it’s something more? He probably is just messing with your head, so no need to overthink whatsoever. That’s what got you inside the mess in the first place anyway.

After safely parked in the hotel lobby, you are about to walk out when Jungkook stops you. “I have a change shirt here, you can wear that to sleep. I believe there is a boutique here, so you can buy it for work tomorrow.”

He gives you a pair of clean shirt and pants, while you are only able to look at him with an unknown feeling in your chest. All these things—it feels too familiar to be true. You are unable to resist reminiscing the past. “You remember when I ran away from my house that time? I forgot to bring anything—and you lent me your shirt that time.”

Jungkook looks at you in evident shock, until a smile is suddenly formed on his lips. “Of course I remember. You were crying at that time, I was so panicked. You were wearing my shirt for like.. A full week.”

You giggle, smiling to yourself. Your parents were fighting again at that time, it was because of you. Your mother wants to take you back to Seoul, while your father wants you to stay in the states with him. You were so angry at that time, the fact that they weren’t even thinking to discuss it with you first so you fled, begging Jungkook to accompany you. That’s how you spend a full week running away with him bringing nothing to change into.

“I still can’t believe I stayed in your parent’s house for a full week without them finding out. That’s like… super mind blown.” You giggle again, remembering the time you stayed in his family house. It is undoubtedly one of the best times of your life, sneaking inside Jungkook’s house, staying in and having to spend all your days with him.

“It was crazy.” Jungkook breathes at you, smiling so wide his bunny teeth are visible. “I was so happy that time.”

Suddenly realizing how real it all gets after the unexpected nostalgia, you clear your throat trying to manage your emotions in. You really need to get your head straight. “Wow, this got mushy real quick, right? Let’s—let’s just go in.”

After a good ten minutes, you are settling inside your shared room with Jungkook. It was definitely larger than you think, so it was comforting to say the least. All because you cannot trust yourself when he’s around, and the fact that you’re starting to tolerate the guy isn’t helping either.

“I’m starting on the documentation, you take a shower first.” Jungkook mutters while settling himself on the corner of the room. You nod, and whilst getting ready with the pair of clean clothes he lent you, you catch Jungkook staring.

“What are you staring so intently at, you freak.” You snort and Jungkook chuckles while shaking his head.

“Nah, just remembered the old times. ” He smiles and suddenly you forget how to breathe. “You were so… pretty.”

Your heart literally skips a beat at how unreal everything is, but then are reminded of something that immediately makes you feel like an idiot for thinking he might mean it. “Didn’t you think like that because we just had a shower sex that time?”

Jungkook immediately blushes at your upfront mention. He most definitely did not expect that. “No, I wasn’t thinking—damn, Y/N, how can you say that!”

Rolling your eyes, your hand moves to slide the bathroom door. “Whatever, I’m going to shower now. Don’t even think about moving even a muscle from there.”

Jungkook sighs at your non-stop cautiousness, but is still unable to get that one last kick in. “You sure you can do it alone? I can help you shower, you know. ” He teases mischievously which you instantly answer by flipping him off. But you know the smile is too wide—you are enjoying this light banter too much now.

After having a very delightful bath, you walk out while drying your hair with a towel. Staying true to his words, Jungkook is seated still on the sofa, eyes not even blinking—too focused on the work in front of him. You move to his side, carefully resting your hands on his shoulder that he instinctively jumps on his seat. “Sorry to interrupt, but you should take a shower first. It must be suffocating still wearing that.”

Jungkook seems flustered, and immediately rises. “Yes, okay. I’ll be a second, then we can start. You should...rest a bit.”

Sitting on the couch he sat on, you stare at nothing in particular when your ringtone is heard. You mindlessly open your phone and find it’s Hoseok on the other side, pinging you endlessly—of course about you spending the night with Jungkook. You hiss just thinking about Namjoon literally can't keep his mouth shut, so instead, you leave him a fuck off emotion and move to open another chatting app, strangely miss chatting with your anonymous friend. Maybe you should update him about another conflict you are having right now, having been forced to be around the one you had a huge crush a few years back.

blueberry_25 : hiiiiiiiiiiii are you there? [20:15]

Right after sending the message, suddenly a ringtone is heard—it must be Jungkook’s phone. Shrugging the fact, you send another message, and Jungkook’s phone is ringing again. What is this coincidence? Why is his phone ringing at the same time you send yours?! The possibility of Jungkook being paired as your anonymous friends literally makes you dizzy beyond words, and you quickly move to grab his phone from his office bag, trying to detect if your notification is there. Fuck, fuck! If he really is your anonymous friend, you’d literally run away and sink yourself in the nearest waters. You’d rather set yourself on fire than having to spend another second around him.

Picking up his phone with your heart beating unhealthily fast, but all you see in his notification is Hoseok’s messages. You scroll slowly on his notifications, but fortunately nothing about your message is seen. You sigh deeply in reassurance. God, that was close.

Realizing how improper it is to be preying on his privacy, you clear your throat and put the phone back on the desk. Fuck, you are really shameless. But in your defense, it’s really a matter of life or death, because you have no idea whether you’d rather spend another second breathing when knowing you’ve been talking to Jungkook about Jungkook all these times. But seeing that there’s no notification, you feel slightly assured. Slightly.

Yet to think about it, he is using the basketball keychain you gave him a few years back and it makes you feel incredibly unsettled. Why is he wearing this? He changed his phone and really went through the hard work to still keep something he hated the first time receiving? You even thought he threw the keychain away after receiving it.

“Hey, what are you looking at?”

At the sudden low minister you look up in surprise, seeing Jungkook walking out of the shower, still with wet hair, wearing a white shirt and a pair of shorts that looks really comfortable, but not really for you as a silent bystander. Fuck Jungkook and his incredible charm!

“Is it my phone?” Jungkook asks, eyebrows scrunched.

Suddenly realizing that you are cornered by his great smell, you are stuttering to even let out an answer. “I’m-i’m sorry! Your phone rang and I thought it was something important, and—”

“You shouldn’t check my phone, really.”

Remembering how Jungkook hated to have anyone messing with his privacy, you wince internally and prepare for his wrath. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see anything, I swear.”

At your regretful gesture, Jungkook sighs and rests himself on the space beside you. “It’s okay. Just.. just don’t do it again. I don’t want you to be shocked to see what’s in there.”

Seeing an opportunity now that he has relaxed a bit, you push him by the shoulder with your own with a mischievous smile. “It’s okay, I’ve seen your porn collection. Nothing will really shock me at this point.”

Waiting for Jungkook to respond to your laughter, but instead you only find him gazes at you with indiciphered emotions. “Why? Is there anything wrong?”

“No, It’s.. it’s just weird. Actually the first time you acknowledge our past without wanting to rip my head off my body.”

At that, you find your gaze falling back to the basketball keychain on his phone. “You’re using that lame ass keychain you hated so much now?”

You remember that time you went to an old market with your friends the morning of your third date with Jungkook, seeing a cute basketball chain and you instantly remembered how much Jungkook always wanted to play basketball even if he was in a football team, so you bought that keychain for him. He begrudgingly received it with so much complaints, about how he didn’t like any accessories for his phone, or how he literally played football, or how it didn’t match his fashion concept, and you haven’t even seen him use it… until now.

“Yup. I have been using it since… you left actually.” Jungkook looks down to his phone, and you look at him with a contorted face.

“Why?”

Jungkook looks at you, staying silent for a good ten seconds while you bite your lips, wondering if you are ready to hear whatever he’ll say—cause any scenario playing in your head is just a trainwreck of mess after mess—until he answers with a heavy sigh of distress. “I’ll answer that later. Let’s just.. Work now.”

Silently thankful that he decides not to answer your pointless question, you agree and proceed with work. It is not exceptionally hard to focus on your work when the deadline is just around the corner, and you are thankful Jungkook is very helpful and kind with everything. But after a few hours spent working, from the corner of your eyes Jungkook is massaging his sore neck with contorted face. You know why—he severely strained his neck muscle during a practice a few years back, and will always feel pain whenever he is overworking himself, like he is right now.

“Hey, you should take a rest.” You tap his shoulders with worried gaze. “Your neck must be killing you right now. I can continue, there’s just a few of these left.”

Jungkook really wants to refuse your mindful offering, but the pain is disagreeing with him. So albeit half-heartedly, he moves to rest on the bed. “Laying on the bed would only worsen the pain, though..” You whisper to yourself, somehow still vividly remember everything.

“You want me to massage you?”

Jungkook looks at you in surprise. “Are you serious?”

You are fumbling with the hem of Jungkook’s shirt you wear and hesitantly nod. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself… Because… you’re my ride tomorrow to Seoul! We really need to get back right after, so—”

Jungkook nods with a thin smile, and you decide to shut up and just move closer to his side with a bottle of baby oil from your bag. After smearing a few drops on his neck, you proceed to move your fingers to give slight pressure around his neck—just the way you remember it.

“Now I know why you still smell like that. You’re still using that baby oil.” He hums in delight and you inevitably smile. The fact that he still remembers sends warmth to your chest.

After spending a good ten minutes massaging his upper neck, you notice that the neck area of his t-shirt is wet with the oil. “Ah, your shirt..”

“It’s okay. Are you done?”

You bit your lip. Not really, you know by the look of it the pain is still far from being off, but you don’t know what you should do. The convenient way is to have Jungkook out of his shirt, but then you’d literally be out of your mind. You most certainly do not have the capacity to do with a shirtless Jungkook, right on such a closed space, especially on a bed. Even thinking about it makes you feel rightfully ridiculous.

“You’re still in pain, though…”

“Ah, this is okay.” Jungkook gives you a comforting smile, trying to move his head, “I’m now as good as—Ow!”

Now you don’t even know how can that man survive another day being this careless. He is moving his head excessively only to prove his lies and end up with more pain. Really Jungkook-like. Sighing, you pull on his shirt. “Take off your shirt, you moron. I’ll massage you.”

At your bold statement, Jungkook literally shivers on your grasp. “No, It’s all well. You don’t need to—”

Greatly unimpressed, you warn him not to reason with your request and just by your stare, he begrudgingly complies. “But don’t laugh. I haven’t been working out recently, super swamped at work so if you just laugh, even a little, I’ll leave you here to take the bus alone to Seoul tomorrow.”

Giggling at his pouts, Jungkook moves to open his shirt and instantly lay on his stomach on the bed. “Don’t see it!”

“Why! Are you shy at me now? You literally used every chance to be shirtless back then.” You chuckle and mischievously poke him around the waist with your forefinger. “Why are you shy? You six pack no more?”

Jungkook buries his head on the pillow, while you still proceed to poke him repetitiously with your fingers. “Stop it!” He groans yet you disregard it without any further thoughts.

“You’re nooo fun! Don’t be shy Kookie, even if you’re bloated, I—Ah!”

Jungkook growls at your constant bother, and spends no other second to pull you around to secure you around his grasp, bare chest just a breath away from yours.

“Are you seriously going to do this now? Don’t you know how crazy I was just to be around you for the night?”

At his deep stare prodding at the depth of your minds, you feel terribly heated. “What-what are you saying..”

“Are you seriously not seeing this, Y/N?” He slowly breathes. “It’s hard. To be around you again, and trying to hold myself from thinking about what could have happened with us.” Is he seriously addressing what happened with your relationship before?

“What?”

“You asked why I still use that keychain you gave? You really wonder why?” He asks in unpredicted determination that it terrifies you. “It’s because what we had meant that much. You, me, us—we were so happy. Or at least, I was.”

Like it’s not surprising enough, he is apparently not done. “Being with you, I’d never trade that for anything. I was doubtful it even happened—you left so quickly and I need a reminder that it did happen. We happened.”

Realizing that he indeed is going to unveil anything that happened in your past, you weakly push him away, trying to create a safe distance in between. But of course it’s no match with his unbelievable strength. “Jungkook...”

“I know I was a jerk, Y/N. I was childish, foolish, I was an idiot and I did not think about your feelings. I did not consider that you must’ve had a reason to leave the country, we were fighting like crazy, but—I would’ve understood if I had known the reason, you know? And I start to wonder about the what ifs, will everything be different with you and me?”

You look up to him gloomily, the pain in your chest is unbearable now that he is opening up the past. You remember everything like it was yesterday—how infatuated you were with each other, how beautiful was the time of being in such love with him, how heartbroken you were to find out you had to follow your mother after the divorce and go back to Seoul, and how instead of clearly stating why, you and Jungkook had a huge fight that literally lasts for years and until now.

The sadness momentarily engulfs you, that you instinctively respond to the sentence you’ve been repeating to yourself these whole time. “Well then, maybe we are just not meant to be.”

Jungkook glares at you, not liking a bit that you had to pull that card with him. “Don’t you fucking say that. What we had meant that much to me, and I loved you so much, Y/N. Why can’t we just—” You know it was a past tense, he said he loved you. But why does that hurt? Unexpectedly a thought crosses your mind, and you speak faster than you think.

“Jungkook, what happened with that girl?”

His eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “What girl?”

You look down, unable to see him right in his beautiful, doe eyes.“That finance girl—the one coming home with you when clearly taxi exists—what happened that night?”

Jungkook clears his throat, finally getting what you’re saying. “Ah, her. No, I had Jimin take her home that night.”

“Why?”

Jungkook bite his lips, it’s obvious that he is conflicted to answer. Ten seconds pass until he finally opens his voice to answer. “Because she was talking shit about you, and I don’t like it.”

“You what? Seriously?!” Are you hearing correctly? Jungkook seriously abandoned all his mighty ways with girls just because someone is talking shit about you? “It’s inevitable, and you know I don’t give a shit what she thinks about me. You don’t have to do that—I can’t believe this.”

“Y/N, don’t overthink it. Even if we are off to a rocky start and you might hate me, you’re still my friend. I won’t let anyone talk shit about my friends, especially you.”

The way he speaks, it is full of sincerity and succeeds in melting your whole being. The way he cares about you, you hate to admit that you still like it too much. You can’t believe that you are still this reactive for anything regarding him.

Another seconds of comfortable silence passes and somehow, you get comfortable just laying there with him. Even your heartbeat is too fast for your likings, yet the familiarity is what keeps you on spot. You start reminiscing those beautiful times when it’s just you and him, the feelings you get whenever he looks at you like this—it feels amazing.

“What happens to your mother? Is she okay now?” Jungkook carefully asks, like he is testing the water. His palms are soft on your back, featherly soothing it with his whole deliberation.

You hum with a faint nod. “Yup, she is recovering well. My aunt and grandma are also very helpful with the therapy, so...yes. How did you know, by the way?”

“Well, after you left I… I just got around with your friend. She actually explains your condition and.. then I try to dig around for you as well. I found your social media and really wanted to message you, but.. Yeah, I never got to.”

What Jungkook does not explain is how much time he spends on his phone, typing and retyping his words to send you, but never got the courage to. After knowing what happened to you and your family—especially about your mother’s illness, he felt overwhelmingly guilty beyond words. He took it on you, taking all his disappointment for the false information he made for himself, without thinking what you might have felt. He deserved it, he deserves everything that happened to him. Being miserable, chased with the guilt feeling rooting on his back, it might be just the right price he must pay for letting you down, disappointing you the way he did.

“I am sorry, Y/N. If I can take back what I said, I would. In a heartbeat.” He whispers and you understand how much he means it. At that time, it’s even difficult to think he is still the same Jungkook who hurted you back then. He changes so much, and hopefully for the better.

“What about you? Everything is good back in the states?” You ask, resting your palm on his bare arm and you can sense how Jungkook is tense, but instantly relaxes after your hand is safely settled. “Your family is still there?”

“Yup. Family is there, only me here.”

You hum, fidgeting your fingers resting on his arm. You really want to ask one question that has been running in your mind since four months ago.“If I ask why you moved to Seoul, would you answer honestly? Like.. I know what you said to your peer, about the great offer whatsoever, but… there must be something else, right? There’s literally no good reason why you should move to somewhere new and not even lots of people you know here..”

Jungkook gives you a thin smile. “I.. I just needed a fresh start. My life there, everything that’s been going on with my family, my friends were too… exhausting. I just—I wanted to see how far I could go on my own.”

“Something happened with your family?” You curiously asks, suddenly curious about his last statement. You know how ruthless his father was with his ambitions for his only son, directly lining him up for the best school in the states and already planning all his future for him, including entering one of the most sought up corporate as well.

“Yup. You know, I don’t hate his plans. What I dislike is the way he single-handedly does everything for me. It was so stressful.” Jungkook whispers, more to himself. “He wants me to go Investment Banking, but I don’t want that. He promises that he can make me in Forbes list, or whatever it was he said, but I don’t want that too.”

“So I planned on moving out of the city, but I don’t know where or how. Then the idea to go back to Seoul arised. Something happened—the decision time was quite short. What turns out to be a joke turns into a serious option. Having dual citizenship really eases my access back to Korea, and my grandparents and cousins are also here so.. Yeah. That’s about it.”

You nod in understanding, cause everything he said seems plausible. But one thing still doesn’t settle right. “But.. why my company? You know I’ve been working here for a while now, right? It’s like… too much of a coincidence it scares me.”

“If I say it’s all the grand plan of the universe, will you believe me?” He lightly jokes, eyes turning into crescent moons. You roll your eyes, but nevertheless giggle.

“I think that’s enough for now. You must be sleepy, Y/N. Go to sleep, in a few hours  we still need to head back to the plant and directly go back to Seoul. Okay?”

You are expecting Jungkook to move away and leave you to sleep on the bed, but he is still there, holding you close, and you are not complaining at all. You are conscious that he is waiting for you to shoo him away, but you’d not even dare to do it. Cause being with him again, his large palm caressing your back, his breath tickling your face, everything seems like a very vague, far dream.

Another twenty minutes and you are already far too deep in slumber, Jungkook smiles at your sleeping face. You seem so at peace, and he is loving every second just laying here with you.

But the rest of work ain’t gonna fix itself, so he is still groaning, and wakes up and moves back to the sofa. Getting a canned coffee from his duffle bag, Jungkook quickly gulps an adequate amount until he is sure he won’t be sleeping for a while now. Trying to relax his strained neck, his finger moves back to the laptop in front of him.

“Let’s finish this once and for all, shall we?”

*

Due to staying up until three in the morning, Jungkook wakes up around nine to a cup of coffee in the kettle, along with a thank you note for finishing the rest of the work and promises you’d do anything he asks in return. You also permit yourself for going to the plant first. At that, a slight disappointment arises inside his chest and he doesn’t even know why. Jungkook heaves a deep breath, waking up and directly going straight to the shower.

Not even thirty minutes later, Jungkook is already parked on the plant, walking inside to the office side where he expects you will be. But he is met with disappointment, because you’re not there—not even your belongings are in sight.

At once, he feels terribly anxious. What happened to you? Where could you be? He tries dialing your number, but is met with no answer. When one of the supply chain teams he was talking to yesterday is walking beside him, he stops her right away. “Hey… Did you see Y/N? Was she here?”

“Y-yes. She is currently meeting with the team leader.” She mutters nervously, especially with Jungkook’s hardened stare prodding at her.

“Team leader? Where?”

“They’re meeting downstairs, probably in the cafe? I don’t really know..”

Finally self-conscious about how freaky he has been, Jungkook quickly mutters his thank you and descends to the elevator. Team leader? He doesn’t know why he feels terribly on the edge with the fact she is meeting the team leader. Probably due to something he heard yesterday…

“Y/N, you’re disappointed, right? The team leader is in the plant right now since there's a production problem. Tell me, you actually wanted to see him, right?”

That was that a fellow supply chain team was whispering to you during the discussion yesterday, which you answered with a lousy no. It did not settle right with him and now he is proven right. Who is this team leader, actually?

While in the elevator, he swiftly reaches for his work phone, trying to find a certain supply chain team leader. He squints his name, finding a name that certainly is not too strange if he thinks about it...

Kim Taehyung.. When did he hear this name before?

*

“I told you I can pick you up from the hotel and then we can get a proper breakfast. Why are we even meeting at this lousy, overpriced office cafe.” Taehyung fizzles with a deep pout while cutting the maple syrup pancake he ordered. You thinly smile, stirring the cup of chamomile tea on your grasp. It’s certainly strange to be in the exact situation with him as it was during your college days.

“It’s okay, I can’t stay long anyway. I just got a few things clarified from your team and I’ll be on my way back to the headquarters.”

“Really? That fast?” The pout on his lips deepens. “If I know you are going to leave so soon, we should’ve done something last night. I don’t even understand why you checked in a hotel instead of staying with me. It’s way cheaper and easier, you know?”

“Taehyung, you know I can’t do that…” You warn him, feeling cautious of the overly familiar sense between the two of you. It is dangerous, and you don’t want to ruin everything with you and him. Again. You will not foolishly repeat history.

Noticing how tense the air has become after your last sentence, he suddenly leans his palm over yours, eyes filled with regret. “Y/N, please don’t be like this. We are friends before anything else. What happened, it was in the past. I don’t want to lose you like this.”

The irony of hearing that too many times now literally put a painful grin in your lips. Why the fuck men keeps on saying that to you these days? Fucking annoying.

“I get it. We are friends. So please keep the line, Taehyung. I don’t want to lose you as a friend like this too.”

Realizing that not even a hint of mirth on your face, he realizes that he indeed has crossed the line. Taehyung immediately pulls his hand away, clasping it on his lap. “I am sorry.”

“It’s okay. But can we talk about work, now?” You sigh in distress. You know by the look of it, Taehyung has millions of words he wants to say, but you don’t want to hear it. You just had enough with all the drama.

Taehyung was your friend. Your first friend in Seoul. Your first friend in university. Your best friend. At that time, he helped you a lot with adapting to the new environment. He helped you with every part of your life, your study, your family, everything. He was the son your mother never had—you were that close to him. At the beginning, regardless of what people said that the both of you would end up being in love with each other, it was easy to disregard it with a simple laugh. Because Taehyung had a girlfriend back in his hometown. Because you were busy with working part-time to make a living, and love was your last priority.

4 years being in a platonic relationship was easy when it’s with him. You graduated together, sealed with a picture of Taehyung kissing your cheek in front of your alma mater hanging on your living room’s wall, you never knew something indeed has changed with you and him. Not until one night he confesses he wants to try something more serious with you, for you to seriously consider him as a boyfriend. And as easy as it was, you agreed. Because in all sincereness, you knew you’d do anything for him, and even if you wanted to be with someone, it just had to be him.

Having the same dream, both of you applied for the same company, and were accepted in the same team. You were working alongside him, and seriously could not be happier. Day by day, you start to gain feelings for him, and it was as easy as expected—because he was a very great guy, everything you wished him to be. Until one day, an email arrives in your personal inbox, filled with cursive words accusing you were the one Taehyung was cheating with. From his ex-girlfriend.

At that time, you directly confronted Taehyung for an explanation. And you found out that before graduation, he measly broke up with the girl through a freaking message and blocked every contact with her right after. And when you thought everything couldn't go worse, more digging led you to find out that he broke up only after you agreed to try something serious with him.

You were heartbroken. Even if you knew that in his defense, he thought that nothing was going to work with his ex-girlfriend for way before they broke up, but it did not justify anything that he did for her, or for you. You expected more of him, and were excessively disappointed. And even when you tried to forget it and move on like what it was before, you can’t shake the feeling of betrayal. That’s why you decided to call it off.

Taehyung was disappointed in your easy choice of way out, it was as clear that both of you are not on the same page with everything. Knowing that both of you couldn’t just disregard everything and keep on being professional at work, Taehyung directly applied after an opening for a plant team was announced—and in no time he left. Just like that.

“Hey, are you okay? Y/N, don’t be like this. I won’t talk about it again—let’s just talk about work. Okay?” Taehyung asks in worry at your deep and long silence. You dubiously nod, realizing that you cannot keep on being like this. That’s why you reach out for your laptop, intending to start on questions for your report.

“So, is your mother okay now?” Taehyung asks, and you know he is sincerely curious instead of making small talks. You kind of understand though, since your mother saw him nearly everyday as he was practically glued to your side.

“She is doing much better now. And she asked about you too, you know.”

Taehyung immediately smiles at that. “Yeah, of course I know. I was literally the best child she could ever have, since her daughter was busier than the president himself.”

You roll your eyes but still chuckle at the remembrance. “Shut up. I was working! And you know, you are the weird one. You kept on hanging out in my house, even without me. My aunt and grandma were literally in love with you.”

“Yeah, they were so kind and lovely. How could I not miss them.” Taehyung smiles more to himself. You can detect how sincere he is, and the guilt is slightly eating you up. If you weren’t such a selfish person, maybe everything would be different. Maybe you and him would be different.

“Then come again to my house. I’m still in my apartment, but I come back to my house once or twice each month. You know my family house is closer to the plant than the headquarters. You should come with me.”

You know that Taehyung seems to be at shock at your unexpected invites—as you too were shocked—but he instantly forms his signature boxy smile and nods in agreement before you could change your mind. “I would love to.”

Suddenly, a ruckus was heard directed from the door. You instinctively turn to the source of the sound, and unexpectedly find Jungkook marching to your side. You immediately stand from your seat, somehow anxious over the fact that you left him in the hotel with only a lousy note to excuse yourself. And probably, the fact that Taehyung is here too.

“Jungkook? Why are you here?”

Jungkook looks at you, then at Taehyung, then at you again, implicitly showing how bewildered he is. “Ah, it’s nothing. I just.. I just want to check where you are. You left so quick from the hotel, so—”

Taehyung immediately stands up from his seat, staring at you while squinting his eyes. “Hotel? He is staying with you, Y/N?! That’s dangerous, why are you—don’t tell me.. You’re not staying in the same room, right?”

Jungkook’s eyebrows scrunched, disliking the fact that Taehyung looks really bothered at the fact that you are staying with him. “So what if we are? Do you have a problem with that?”

You bite your lower lips in distress at both of the guys who look like they are ready to have the showdown of their lives. Fuck, why does this have to happen now?!

*

If you had any thoughts that Taehyung and Jungkook will be fighting because of you, you were surely an idiot—because right now it’s like you literally don't even exist. Both of those idiots are too busy playing phone games as teams while laughing like maniacs, while you are busy trying to finish all your work before having to rush to Seoul in an hour. Yes, you don’t really have anything left for them to work on, but… it feels difficult when you don’t even understand what they are doing with their damn phones.

“Taehyung, what the hell… you can’t fucking shoot! He was literally in front of you!” Jungkook groans at his phone, then Taehyung kicks him on the shin until the younger guy hiss in pain. You roll your eyes, fucking child they were.

“Jungkook, let’s go. We need to head back to Seoul.”

“Why?! There’s another hour! There’s no need to rush, you know.” Jungkook pleads, yet not even looking at you. Since Taehyung steals a glance at you, he immediately notices you are not in a mood for a joke. At all.

“Five minutes. This will be finished, okay? You can get ready, Y/N.” Taehyung replies calmly and even with deep resentment, you still comply and pack up your belongings.

Just another thirty seconds and Taehyung is cursing before throwing his phone back at the table. “Fuck, I’m dead.”

“That’s because you suck.” Jungkook mocks playfully, and Taehyung rolls his eyes at the childish remarks. Taehyung turns to you scrolling on your phone, looking as unbothered as ever—even if he knows how irritated you are right now. That’s probably on how much he understands you.

“Hey, Y/N. When can we meet your mom?”

Jungkook suddenly chokes on air at that unforeseen statement. What the fuck did he just hear? Why is Taehyung meeting your mother?

Only sending Jungkook weirded out stares, you turn to Taehyung. “I’m planning on going back tomorrow, as I haven’t gone back for weeks. You want to come with me?”

“Sure, that’d be great.” Taehyung nods, literally insensitive to Jungkook’s hazy state as more information comes in.

“Okay, should we meet directly at my mother’s?”

“No, I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning. I’m going back to Seoul tonight for a drink with Jimin, Yoongi and Hobi.”

“Ah, drunkard night. Must be fun.” You sarcastically joke and Taehyung is unable to deny as he giggles. Meanwhile on the other side Jungkook’s sight is literally shaking, probably to the current state he is in. Fucking pathetic is what he is.

“So, did you receive my flowers this morning?”

Your mouth and eyes are forming a full circle, remembering the gifts resting on your desk nearly every morning from last week. “That was you?!”

“Yes.” He giggles with reddening cheeks which literally sends flutters inside your chest. Not even once you thought Taehyung would be the one behind those thoughtful gifts. “I just want to give it to you. I hope it’s not a bother.”

“It’s not, but you shouldn’t have…” You suddenly feel guilty for not realizing it any sooner. Of course it’s him, who would be? But by the fact how bad your vague relationship ended nearly a year ago, it’s hard to imagine him being the one sending those.

“I want to! Don’t be like that, you know I’d do anything for you.”

Abruptly the sound of chair feet against the floor is heard as Jungkook stands up. He looks at you with an undeciphered smile, yet you literally can’t even look him straight in the eyes. God, you don’t want everything to be like this in the first place. “Let’s go, Y/N. I’m done.”

“Good. You should go, the traffic can be bad.” Taehyung nods in understanding, insensitive to Jungkook’s killing aura that you literally are on the edge of. He quickly walks out of the room without even a goodbye, and you nervously look back at Taehyung again.

“Taehyung, I’ll go now.”

In a blink, you find Taehyung is now hugging you closely inside his arms. It doesn’t last long though—and you literally don’t know what to feel about that. Your feelings are too complicated.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Be safe.”

You hum and directly walk out, not even seeing Jungkook right on the door. Slightly panicked, You walk outside to the elevator and he is there, hands buried in his pocket, his jaw clenched and eyes that literally screams fire. Everything literally makes you dizzy.

God, you don’t really know how you’d make it a few hours being with him...

And fuck were you right, because after thirty minutes settling inside his car on the way to Seoul, there’s no sound beside the radio between the two of you. The air was so tense like you can slice it and choke it down your throat, and probably it would be better rather than having to face Jungkook’s expected silence at you.

“Jungkook, it’s been half an hour. Are you going to ignore me like this?”

Jungkook sighs, but still not sparing you even a glance. “What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to talk to me.”

“Then talk. No one is stopping you.” He irks.

“But I want to talk to you without that scary face you are having right now.”

“Y/N, I don’t want to be like this. Please let me be angry in peace.” He finally looks at you with a hint of sadness on his eyes. “I don’t want to say anything I’d regret.”

Another five minutes of silence until you decide to speak out your mind. “Do you want to know what happened with me and Taehyung?” You carefully ask, he looks at you and lets out a sarcastic laugh.

“Why do you think I want to know that?”

At the bluntness, you feel completely ashamed of yourself for thinking and assuming way beyond you should. You duck your head in shame. “Sorry.”

Jungkook then realizes he has been too far with his angry game, and instantly reaches out to you in regret. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean that.”

But it’s too late because you are already crying and you don’t even know why. You’re usually not this much of a crybaby. “Fuck, you are really that self centered, you know? How can you say that? Is it too wrong for me to assume that whatever the fuck you are angry about is because of me and Taehyung?”

Jungkook locks his hand with you, and even if you are struggling to let your hands go, you are still too weak compared to him. “I’m sorry. I was angry at myself, Y/N. I was angry because I know you don’t deserve it. You don’t deserve my nonsensical wrath. I was too selfish, I’m sorry.”

“You are.”

“I am.”

“You fucking are.”

“I am. So please accept my apology, hmm?”

Another thirty minutes of sulking, while Jungkook doesn't even say another word and only moves to massage through your hands. You know how apologetic he was, and he probably doesn’t mean it as well. And since you know that your wrath is already dissipating, you proceed with your story, not even caring whether Jungkook wants to listen or not.

So you go through everything. Every single detail about what happened with you and Taehyung. And it would be a lie to say that it doesn’t affect Jungkook even a little bit, because seeing your gleaming eyes and your voice telling every word about your relationship with him, Jungkook knows how important he is to you, and how much of the past you have together with him written on the pages of your lives. The relationship you have with him, lasts a whole four years and even more. How can he even consider to compete with that?

And one question does bother his mind. Do you still love him?

But no. He is not taking that risk. He doesn’t want to break down now. So he lets out a statement that somehow, even with the huge consideration, still succeeds in killing all will inside his body.

“He was really special, right?” Jungkook asks as a past tense.

You look down to your lap.

“Yes, he really is.”

*

You are already settling inside your blanket, ready to drift off to sleep yet your mind is wide awake. Everything is so overwhelming lately, you don’t even know what to do with yourself. Everything about Taehyung and Jungkook is more than confusing, and you really don’t like yourself right now.

“Argh!” Just when you are kicking the blanket off your legs, suddenly a loud knock is head on your front door. Who could it be? Is it Namjoon? But you are a bit uncertain it is him, since Namjoon does not usually come home this early on a Friday night. Damn it, you really need another activity other than waiting for him to come home like a sad sexless innkeeper.

Another boom on your door and you rush to open it. “Wait!”

But instead of the face of drunk Namjoon on your door, you find Jungkook’s instead. And it could be the last person you expect to be standing in front of your door right now, with a bottle of wine and a pack of cheese.

“Jungkook, what are you doing here?”

He shyly scratches his nape. “Ah, actually I was drinking with my cousin and his girlfriend so I steered clear to give them space and went to your apartment instead. Sorry to disturb you. Were you going to sleep?”

“Was going to, but I can’t sleep.” You answer truthfully, looking back at him. Jungkook is only wearing a black t-shirt with loose pants, his hair is messily tousled yet irritatingly still looks very breathtaking to you, his lips are eye-catchingly shimmering—a habit he adopted from you to deal with dry lips. You immediately feel self-conscious about what you were, an old night dress that doesn’t really do anything except making you feel comfy to sleep.

“Can I come in?” He vigilantly asks after a few minutes of odd silence. You instinctively scoot out of his way and let him walk inside your fortress.

“Your apartment is nice.” He compliments, resting the wine and cheese on the table to walk around the apartment, through the photos and embellishment. “Very cozy. And everything here screams you.”

“Thanks. High chance that’s the reason why Namjoon is very, very vigilant about bringing women back to this apartment, I think.” You joke and giggle, even though your head is filled with anxiety of the fact that Jungkook is visiting your apartment at ten pm. The last time he visited you around this time you couldn’t walk the next morning, so… yeah, you feel entitled to be nervous.

“Let me get the glasses and bottle opener.” You stutter, abruptly walking to your compartment. You let out a few deep breaths, trying to assemble your head straight once again. Fuck, why can’t you just speak like a normal person? It’s just Jungkook for god sake, and he’ll only be here for a drink—probably to celebrate the result of your presentation this evening to the boards. And then he’ll be gone, and you’ll go to sleep. Yet you somehow doubt it.

Walking back, you find Jungkook is settled on your couch, his eyes are looking at the bottle of wine on the table, yet you know those stares are too far and empty. It’s proven with how he is startled when you soundly occupy the seat beside him.

“You okay?”

He glances at you and his lips turn into a thin curve. “I am. Sorry, I was zooming out.”

“It’s fine, but sure you're okay?”

The smile widens until it shows his extraordinary bunny teeth, his palm hovering around your arm. “I am good, but can be better after a glass of this wine. Don’t worry about me now.”

In a short while, a glass of wine is already served on your grasp, while Jungkook is busy picking songs to play on your bluetooth speaker. Right when a smooth violin sound is heard, you reluctantly open up a conversation.

“Thank you.” You lower down your gaze to your fidgeting fingers. “For everything. You literally saved my ass from even getting denounced from my position. I still can’t believe everything could be so messed up.”

“I know it must have been difficult—with Junsu now investigated for supplier fraud.” He whispers slowly. You knew that all the untally reports and data are from Junsu, and now he is being investigated for fraud. It could have been worse, since in the beginning it was you whom the board suspected—since you are the one creating the report—but as what you and Jungkook has proved after going back to plant and going through all the documentation, the lead is now on Junsu.

“Hey. You don’t need to worry. If he’s not doing it, it would be proven.” Jungkook rests his palm over yours, squeezing it a little after seeing the contorts on your face. He is able to easily read how perturbed you are right now with the fact that your teammate is indeed in trouble.

“Yes, you’re right.” You nod after taking a few deep breaths, sipping the tasteful liquid down your throat to subside your anxiety. “I’m fine. I’m fine.”

But even still, Jungkook knows it is not effectively working. You are still in possession of the habit he found whenever something deeply bothers your mind. He identified it during your presentation this evening, or the night you ran away after your parents quarreled, even the day both of you were pugnaciously fighting and ended with separation a few years ago.

“Hey.” Jungkook envelopes your quivering fingers and pulls you closer to him, hand buried in your hair. “Please don’t worry. I don’t—I feel terrible when you’re sad.”

And then it was silence. All you can feel is Jungkook’s warmth all over your body, his arm around your shoulder, your head leaning on his shoulder, while your mind is in haze, wandering far, far away. Then you broke off the silence with something that has indeed been bothering you a lot.

“I don’t know since when, but I’m getting weaker every time.”

Jungkook hum as a notion for you to continue. “They say.. They say we should be stronger as we’re getting old. But it’s not for me.” You whisper weakly, holding your fingers together to stop it from quivering. “I hate it. I hate everyday I have to wake up, walking purposelessly. I hate feeling insecure. I hate not knowing where I should go in the long run. I am living, only for the day to pass by. And it’s killing me, that whenever something comes up in my way, I feel.. I feel weak. I’d dry my tears, then spend all the time doubting why I should go through all this pain, but I don’t know any other way.”

You feel every word comes out, Jungkook’s hold around you is tighter. And you’d be crazy not to lean back your every worry to him. “Hey, I understand what you feel. And I think it is a phase in life when we need to rethink everything and start chasing things that make us happy, and let go of the things that are holding us back. Life is about the journey, not a mere destination. No need to rush in anything, hmm?”

You reluctantly nod, agreeing to what he said. What’s inside your head now is only to make lots of money that can sustain your mother’s treatment and family’s lives, and that’s about it. And you love them to death, but you know you don’t want to do this in the long run. Even the sense of accomplishment doesn’t exactly make you happy anymore, and it’s mentally tiring as fuck to be doing something you know that is extracting you from everything you used to love about life. You’re practically a zombie now, with no sense of directions.

“Have you ever felt this way before? Like.. Helpless. And no matter how you think that you should do something about it, you can’t because you’re fucking scared?”

At that, Jungkook smiles and pecks the top of your head. His heart clenched at what you just said, cause that's exactly what he felt before he did something about it. “Yes. I felt that when I was in the States. I was helpless, visionless, and… day goes by only with me taking it for granted, letting myself think that I will never change and I should just suck it in. What they say, I have a great, wealthy family and all—I should be thankful. And that’s also what my father said to me.”

“At one point, I knew I felt humiliated. All I had was given to me, I just had to the bare minimum, and boom—I got it. I knew if I just went with it yet again, I’d go crazy. My father will put me at a gunpoint for what I gained, but I was scared since I was too comfortable.”

You look up to him, feeling the urge to give him comfort somehow. You do realize how contorted Jungkook’s face is now, he is literally so upset that it makes you feel horrible. “I had a fight with my father, as he forced me to move from the small startup I built with my friends to join his partner’s company in Investment Banking. When I rejected, he took a different approach and convinced my friend to cut me off the team. I confronted my father, and it was literally the greatest fight I had with him. Then the plan I purposelessly created became true. I fled to Korea.”

“So..” You whisper, looking down and clear your throat. “Are you still in contact with them?”

“My mother, yes. My father, no.”

“You must be missing them.” You whisper low while caressing his side. “But.. is it worth it? Are you happy now?”

He grins. “It’s worth it, of course—but not yet. But I’m getting there, I think.”

“The more I think about it, being happy is non-negotiable.” You whisper, more to yourself. Before it was just a far dream, but when Jungkook is here beside you to listen, it’s already a true-hearted promise. “And when I get that chance, I will surely prioritize it. At all cost.”

Another twenty minutes of silence just enjoying each other’s warmth, Jungkook’s whine is heard. “Can’t you hug me?”

You mindlessly glance at Jungkook who is now intensely staring you back. But seeing your noticeable confusion, he rolls his eyes and puts your arm around his waist. The blush is inevitable, you are literally holding him with no distance whatsoever. If you just straighten your head, your lips will be locking into his and you’ll lose your breath that easily. Your heart is too fast for your liking, but truth to be told, you wouldn’t trade this moment with him for anything else.

“Did you remember, we literally did this.” Jungkook chuckles, stroking your hair in somehow a very affectionate way. “That time, during the party and you force me to take you in after your parent’s fight. We were back to my room, and then we just hugged it out and you told me everything that happened.”

You nod with a distant smile, remembering how you literally came crying when Jungkook was in the middle of a beer pong with his friends, but he didn’t even wait another minute in complying to your request, seeing how hysterical you were. “Yes. I remembered how after we watched Bruce Almighty. It’s freaking nuts.”

“Let’s watch it again.” He giggles after refilling the glass for wine. “For old time sakes.”

The next five minutes you are scrolling down your netflix, Jungkook is contemplating whether he should ask the question that has been bothering his mind. The alcohol on his spine did help though—it is easier to just go with what he wants to say regardless of the rationality his mind would stop him.

“So tomorrow, you’d be with Taehyung? To your mother’s house?”

Indifferently nodding, you click on the movie. “My mother has been asking a lot about him, and I just reasoned that he moved away and was busy. I don’t want to let her know we’re not… close anymore.”

“Taehyung is actually that important, huh?” Jungkook asks, staring down to his drinks. The fact predictably settles strangely inside his chest, and it is fucking suffocating that he knows he has nothing and no one to blame but himself for feeling this way. “Understandable, though. Four years—I wouldn’t say I am shocked.”

“It is a long time indeed.”  

“I hope I have someone like that too.” He stopped for a while, eyes faraway. “So at least I can tell you that I stopped thinking about you after you left.”

That statement literally freezes all your movement—to the point that you think it’s all just your drunk hallucination. “What are you talking about?”

“I never stopped… thinking about you.” He dubiously murmurs, eyes trailed down his lap. “After I broke up, I’m still thinking about us, what could have been, and… regret?”

“Regret?”

“I know this might sound creepy, but.. After you left, I tried finding your whereabouts and what you’re up to. And after knowing what you’ve been through, I felt tremendous regret for being such a jerk to us.”

Suddenly, just when you’re about to turn around as you’re desperate to see through his eyes, he clutches on you, latching on your back. “I lied when I said I loved you, because I am still in love with you, Y/N. I know it’s silly—we were only a month together, not even official—but I just can’t shake the feeling away. Especially after seeing you again, talking to you again now..”

“And if you asked my last night why I worked in your company—it’s because after arriving, I was in a phase where I don’t know what I should do. At least if I work with you, I can see you again, and apologize, but at first we were not in the best term. But even then, I was happy to see you and talk to you again.”

Then, at once, you feel the back of your shirt is soaked wet. Your heart clenched with pain and sadness at how pained Jungkook must have been all these times. “Y/N, I am very sorry…”

“You told me you’re staying! You said you’ll stay with your father, with me here.” Jungkook cried when you told him you needed to move back to Seoul with your mother after the divorce. “You said your mother is horrible, Y/N. You are not doing this for yourself. You can’t leave.”

“Fuck, don’t act like you care about me now, Jungkook. You know, I was always wondering why you suddenly introduced yourself that night, but it’s because of Alex, right? Because I rejected him—and you wanted to check for yourself!”

Jungkook slammed the table in front of him that made you flinch. “Don’t you dare to change the topic. You’ll leave your father, your life here and me, because of your horrible mother that always made you cry, feel alone and horrible. Why are you so naive, Y/N?!”

You were already crying by then, the frustration built up in your chest. You knew the reason was already on the tip of your tongue—your mother is terribly sick and needed you the most—but you couldn’t let it out. Jungkook didn’t deserve to know. “Don’t act like you know me. One month fucking and you already think you can read me like a book? Grow up.”

“One month.. Fucking?” Jungkook weakly whispered, the tears were building up on the corner of his eyes. “Fine. I don’t fucking care about you. Fuck off to wherever, I don’t care.”

“Sure. You only cared about me because of a fucking bet anyway, right?!” You cried, the grief and constant fear of the end approaching, when Jungkook walked away.

It was the end.

The memory of your separation with Jungkook flashes inside your mind like it was just yesterday. You remember every word, every feeling, every tear spent that day. You couldn’t even count how many times you wished everything was different.

Jungkook is crying on your back, and you force to turn and see him right through his eyes. “Apology accepted, Jungkook. I was at fault too. I should’ve been clearer. I should’ve said it better. I am sorry too..”

You wipe his tears with your two palms and hug him, your chest against his, your arm around his waist. “Please don’t cry, hmm?”

Another seconds of light sniffles until he opens his voice. “You know, this is better than what I expected. With how many years has passed in guilt, I could’ve been puking with tears.” He lightly jokes and you giggle. Fuck, how is he so cute now?

“By the way, just in case you forgot—I just said I love you. It still stands.” Jungkook thinly smiles, his fingers fixing the strands of your hair falling in front of your eyes. Your heart is beating unhealthily fast now. “I don’t need you to answer now, of course. I just… I just want you to know.”

“I know.” You whisper softly, leaning into your will to tiptoe and press your lips against his. Jungkook instinctively closes his eyes, feeling the wondrous taste of cherry chapstick and wine from your lips. The feeling is addictive and wondrous that he seriously thinks he is hallucinating right now.

You are about to release the kiss, when his firm palm secures on your back, pressing your waist against his, his lips are chasing yours to engage in another breath-taking kiss. You welcome it at once, arms settling around his neck. “Tell me if you want to stop.” He murmurs into the kiss, but you’re way into cloud nine to stop. You’d be insane to let him go now.

His palm travels south to grab the flesh off your ass and pushes his hips closer to yours—if it’s even possible. You can make out the hard-on he has nurtured for a while now, and instantly suck your breath. “You can feel it, babe? It’s because of you—being such a minx tonight. Are you really going to keep on teasing me like this?”

You grin, feeling the adrenaline rush with the realization that you have Jungkook here, beside you, whispering you all these dirty words to your ear. You shift to press butterfly kisses to his neck all the way to his collarbones—encouraged by the bemoan he is letting out, intending to suck marks on his sun kissed skin until he gruffly pushes you away.

“Who gave you rights to mark me now, huh kitten?” He throatily purrs, swiftly scooping you into his arms, both your legs are crutched around his waist with his painful erection knocking on your clothed entrance. You spend no more second to entangle your lips with his again, his tongue gladly seeking warmth from yours—and god, he feels amazingly sweet, the taste of wine vivid on your taste bud. Fuck, he seriously can’t drive you crazier than this.

“Don’t want Namjoon to see my dry cum on your sofa, right babe?” Jungkook hoarsely wheezes, and those words literally screws all leftover sanity inside of you. Fuck, you missed this so much. Drowned in lust and desperate for friction, you find yourself continuously rubbing your core to his erection, until he paces you for himself. “Stop. I didn’t bring extra pants with me, babe—don’t wanna go home with pants wet with cum now.”

Jungkook hurriedly pushes your bedroom doors and throws you away on bed. “Y/N. Tell me to stop now, or I’ll never get a grip until I can finally have you.”

Instead of giving an answer, you inch closer until your fingers are in contact with his pants’ band. “You need help with that?” You brave yourself to whisper, gazing innocently right to his lust-darken eyes.

“Fuck, you’ll be the death of me.” He gratefully bemoans, as your finger moves to detached his pants and boxer to the ground—his erection immediately springs like never before. It is such a pretty, thick and long dick that your saliva literally pools. You instantly get on your knees, closing with eagerness to have a taste until he stops your advancement by pushing you to the bed.

“Not today, kitten. Maybe tomorrow—I need to have you now or I’ll go nuts.”

You pout, stubbornly moving to give a good caress on the length, satisfied with how Jungkook’s pupil immediately dilates at your ministry. “Are you sure, baby? I can do anything for you, though. My throat is ready for you to choke on.”

“Stop it. I want to be inside you now.” He hastily howls, so close to creaming your palm now that he needs to stop you. Jungkook’s mind is on cloud nine with your warm fingers around his girth, but he realizes he needs to have his dick pushed inside your cunt now, not even your hand or mouth can make it up. “Take off that fucking dress.” He orders.

“Yes, anything for you, sir.” You literally do not know what kind of courage is seeping through your vein, but seeing how affected he is literally made you ecstatic to tease him more. You briskly moves the satin night dress to your head and throws it across the room, baring all your lower body area.

“No underwear? Fuck, kitten, you better not act this carelessly when your roommate is here.” Jungkook breathily irks, enjoying the view of your almost naked body against him, yet spends no more second to detach your bra until your breasts are dangling freely. He immediately sucks a breath at the amazing sight.

“You are so fucking beautiful.” Jungkook throatily whispers, more to himself before he engulfs both your breasts with his palm. He moves to pinch your hardened pebbles, feeling high with your moans that is literally a green light inside his mind that you are indeed enjoying his act. He swiftly buries your right nipple inside his mouth, giving it a light suck, flicking it with his skillful tongue which turns you to a moaning mess. You close your eyes, feeling the tension inside your body build up while cradling his face closer to you, your fingers pulling the hair on his scalp. You do not even realize his left hand has left your breast, now moving to circle your bare clit, and you instantly mewl in pleasure.

“What are you so wet for, kitten? Tell me.” He breathily hisses, moving to coat his two fingers with your remnants, dips it inside his mouth and licks it dry. Your pupil dilates at such a dirty act, but still Jungkook is unhappy with your lack of response, he hits your throbbing cunt. “Use your fucking tongue to answer.”

You instantly mewl to reply, albeit stuttering when you feel his forefinger finally buries inside of you. “Of course you, sir. I am wet because of you.”

Jungkook grins in satisfaction, before he wastes no mercy and buries three fingers inside you, stretching you deliciously until you whimper in satisfaction. “So freaking wet, I bet I can slide right in. Are you going to let anyone do this to you, kitten? Hmm?”

“No, sir...” You groggily answer, your head is soaked in all kinds of lust.

“Louder! Let your fucking neighbors hear it.” Jungkook growls, pushing his digits further inside until you claw on his clothed shoulder. Fuck him for still being in his shirt—you’d do anything to mark him now.

“No, sir. Only you can make me like this…”

He sinisterly laughs, pleased with your easy compliance. “You better not be lying, kitten. Don’t you let anyone do this to you, especially fucking Kim Taehyung.”

Your eyebrows immediately scrunched at the name, but it could probably be the last thing you can contemplate now that his fingers are still beautifully moving in and out of your wet cunt. “I will, I fucking will. But get this fucking shirt off and fuck me, sir—I need to feel you bare against me.”

As he is about to enter you, he suddenly freezes. “Do you have a condom here?” He breathily asks, realize that he did not take even one with him—as fucking you was literally the last possibility he could think of before. God, does he really need to stop now?

“I don’t have a condom—but I am on the pill and safe, I swear.” You whisper, the ache on your core starting to cloud your head and better judgement. Fuck, Jungkook better be fast or you’ll be dead by then.

“Me too. I tested myself back in the States, and haven’t been sleeping with anyone since.”

“Really? How can?” You unconsciously ask, seriously flabbergasted with the fact that Jungkook hasn't fucked anyone after he moved into the city. The Jungkook you knew was so much of a god of stamina—he literally lasted five rounds with you before and still managed to have an erection after, when you can’t even feel your legs. He is that crazy for sex.

“Fuck, Y/N, I’ll tell you all about it later, but I need to fuck you raw now or I’ll go insane.” He hurriedly answers, instantly throws his shirt away as his whole body is bare against yours. Jungkook reaches for his dick, as his fingers move to give it a few strokes. He is now coating it with your remnants by hitting your entrance lightly with his dick. Even with such action you are already a moaning mess, as you bit your lips in anticipation.

Yet when the head is about to dip inside you, you reach for the bed sheet, clenching the fabric harshly. You haven’t been sleeping around for months now, you’re sure it’s going to hurt a bit—especially with that excessive size of his.

“How are you so freaking big? Fuck, don’t go too rough on me, Jungkook..” You softly  whisper, and Jungkook instantly nods. No matter how crazy and a true dom he is, he would not hurt or go against your consent—that’s just how much he loves and respects you.

Even with the heavy urge to fuck you senseless like he wants to, he surely takes his whole joyful time in making love. His length pushing inside you, stretching you wondrously that the pain turns into pleasure in no time. You let out a breathy moan when he flicks your nipple to keep you on the edge. “Damn, you are wonderful. I can’t believe I was able to live those years without this taste.”

“Fuck, Jungkook.” You moan, biting your lips as you nearly can’t hold yourself from screaming. How can sex with Jungkook be this mindblowing? You had one night stands previously with other person, but sex with him is like on another level—that’s probably what feelings can do to sex. “Faster, now. Don’t hesitate.”

At the invitation, the worries that he’s going to hurt you dissolve as he fastens and follow his own pace, his dick fucking you senseless with ragged breath. God, how he wishes he can do this every second of the day, buried inside you, looking at your pleasured face drowned in lust and pleasure, your beautiful moans and fingers scratching his back. He’d trade anything to have you like this again.

“Fuck, kitten, how are you so tight? I am fucking close.” Jungkook groans as he chases his high, sensing your walls are now clenching him tightly. He inches closer to engage you in another kiss, his tongue pushing inside you while his digits are circling your clit. You claw his back, letting out all sound with no holds back as the pleasures are too much now—the orgasm building up inside you, and Jungkook definitely can sense it coming. “Cum now, kitten.”

While Jungkook and you are still engaged in another heated kiss, your high finally comes as you cum on his dick. “Good girl.” He whispers with one last kiss before he chases his own, and not even another second he pulls out, squirting his cum all over your stomach.

You frown, looking at the liquid on your stomach. “Damn it, you should’ve cum inside me. I’m on the pill anyway.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes at your remarks, yet he is grinning from ear to ear. He lays beside you, engaging you in another soft, slow kiss as you close your eyes, your palms settled on the side of his face. “I love you.” He whispers after letting go, his beautiful doe eyes literally shining with the creases that is apparent whenever he is smiling wide. It seeps warmth to your heart.

The reply for his confession is already at your tongue, but Jungkook quickly scoots away to stand on the floor. You bit your lips, disliking the fact that he is too far from your reach, no matter how fast he’ll be back. You need him here, to ensure that everything is not just a wet dream of yours. “Come back, don’t leave me.” You whine, and Jungkook giggles breathily.

“Let’s get you all cleaned up, clingy McGee. I’ll get you a wet towel.”

Another minute and Jungkook is back with what he promised, as he closes beside you and wipes his own cum off your stomach.

“What a waste. You should’ve cum in my tongue and let me swallow it all.” You mutter half joking half seriously while yawning, as your eyes follow his every movement. He sends you a warning glare, unhappy with your constant teasing.

“If you don’t want me to pin you against the matters now and fuck you against the wall until you’re screaming for mercy, stop it.”

“Geez, sooo grumpy.” You giggle, scooting closer to him as in chase of heat after he settles beside you, draping the blanket to cover both your bodies.

“I’ll take you up on that tomorrow, though.” He lightly giggles, and you’re the one now rolling your eyes on him. He envelopes you around his arm, pressing another kiss on your forehead before caressing your head to sleep—just the way he remembers would instantly send you to slumber.

But no matter how tired you already are, your body are still high on adrenaline due to the great sex you just had—you just cant seems to sleep. Not when Jungkook is here holding you close, looking at you like that with evident love in his eyes. And suddenly an idea pops inside your head, until you smirk in mischief.

“Why are you smiling like that? I told you to sleep.” He asks cautiously. You shrug to pretend innocence, before scooting closer until your bare waist is glued on his own, slightly rubbing it against his semi-hard dick. Wow, the self control on this guy is impressive for not initiating a second round.

Jungkook immediately curses at your teasing, yet the pleasure in his face is unmissed. “Fuck, what are you—“

“I’m sweating, Jungkook. I want to take a shower.” You whine seductively, your fingers stray to the lower parts of his body now, caressing his semi. Jungkook’s eyes are now unmistakably dark, as you realize that you might just awaken the true dom in Jungkook.

“I was literally being civil since you got to go back home with fucking Taehyung tomorrow, but damn—I’ll fuck you so bad anyone know who fucked you tonight, huh? I’ll make sure you can’t walk straight tomorrow, kitten.” He smirks, and that literally sends jitters right to your core in deep anticipation. You missed it—the feeling of Jungkook mercilessly fucking you like there’s no tomorrow.

Jungkook instantly scoops you out of bed in one movement, the blanket falls on the floor.   Your legs are linked around his waist, your throbbing entrance pressed against his erection as you rub it for relief. His mouth aggressively attacking yours for domination, as his firm legs walk towards your shower.

“Let’s get my kitten thoroughly cleaned, okay?” Jungkook teasingly moans to your ear, his thumbs are now pinching your hardened nipples. Your whole body shivers.

Thus begin the best sex you ever have in your whole life.

*

You wake up groggily with the sunshine seeping through your window. What happened with you, why are you feeling the biting pain all over your body? The memory of last night instantly hits you like an explosion.

You had sex with Jungkook—which lasted three freaking rounds.

And fuck wasn’t he holding back. He literally was just like you remembered, a true dom that sent your knees weak, pleasuring you like nobody could. He took care of your body like it's the only thing on his mind—and you would be lying if you say you didn’t enjoy his true dom self released, marking you all over your body with love bites, forcing you to plead for his mercy and leaving you breathless nearly all the time.

But he is not here now.

You gaze to the cold side of your bed where Jungkook slept last night. It must be long since he left, only with a small note on your bedside that ensures you that what happened last night isn’t just a mere dream.

Hi, thanks for last night. I had to leave, something urgent came up. See you around.

Fuck, if that wasn’t such a lousy note to start the day with. Such a fool you are to expect the sex matters to you as much as it is to him.

Regardless of the ticked off feeling you had for Jungkook, you scoot off your bed, trying to use both your throbbing legs to stand up. The pain instantly shoots up that you instantly bite your lips, limping your way out of the door. Fuck Jungkook, you loathe that fucker so much now.

“Whoa whoa—slow down babe.” Namjoon instantly shouts after you’re carelessly limping out of the door closer to him. “Someone got a good dicked down yesterday.” He teases, and you sent him an annoyed expression.

“Why are you so grumpy? You finally had sex after months, you should be glowing.” Namjoon giggles while stirring his coffee. You flip him off, settling to sit on the sofa. “You want some coffee?”

“Yes, thank you.” You mutter. “What time did you come back home?”

“Around two, maybe? Wasn’t really in my best state of mind, so that could be wrong too. What’s up?”

He walks closer to you, offering a cup of coffee with scent that succeeds in relaxing your mind a bit. “I did not meet the guy, you don’t have to worry. Who was it anyway? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Around two? He left before two? “Did you check up on me when you come?” You ask dubiously, knowing Namjoon has always checked up on you when he arrives in the apartment.

“Yes, there was no one. I saw you sleeping, and went to my room right after.”

“Fuck—he really left that early?!” You hiss, not liking the fact that he left you just later after you sleep with such a lousy note that clearly indicates nothing—he probably uses the same note for all his previous one night stands.

“But.. You know, it could be weird for strangers to stay the night after sex—“

“But he’s not a stranger.” You vengefully replied, the hurt evident in your tone. “It’s Jungkook. Jungkook slept with me yesterday and fled right after with a fucking lousy ‘thanks for last night’ note.”

“Jungkook? Jeon Jungkook?” He asks with goggling eyes. He seriously thought he misheard your words. “But you hated him.”

“It was complicated. We.. We had a past together. And these few days just rekindled those feelings, and.. I thought he was really serious about it.” You whispers, the tears are welling in the corner of your eyes. “I tried thinking positively, that he really had something to do, but he left so quickly and also with this note.. got me thinking. Was it too fast? What if everything is just in my head, and he’s only after sex?”

Namjoon looks at the yellow note on your grasp, taking it to read the messy handwriting for himself. Yet no matter how hard he thinks about it, he understands your doubt. It was indeed a messy, hurried note that he indeed heard people often leave their one night stand.

“It’s still uncertain. Just talk to him, okay?” Namjoon asks, his palm resting on your knees and giving it a light squeeze. “There might be something you don’t know yet.”

You sigh, crumpling the note and throwing it carelessly. “I fucking hate him.”

“Hey, by the way you left your phone here, and Taehyung called this morning.” He informs, but you know that expression he wears—something is troubling his mind.

“What is that face?” You instantly point. “You always use that expression when you have something to say.”

“You know me so well.” Namjoon grins, eyes trained on the coffee on his grasp. “I had a drink with Taehyung and others yesterday. And yeah, after the drink, I just think that he.. He might be still in love with you.”

“What do you mean?” Your eyebrows scrunched, severely confused.

“That’s all I can say. If you want to know, better ask the man himself. You’re meeting him soon, right?” Namjoon reminds you, and you abruptly stand up—still holding back the pain, after being reminded that Taehyung shall be here in no time.

“And, Y/N?”

You halt your steps, looking back to the guy. “What?”

“Just.. don’t hesitate. Go with your heart.” Namjoon advises. Your throat constricts. Follow your heart? You don’t even understand what that idiot wants. Your heart is a drunk fool, doesn’t really know what’s good for itself, and always foolishly seeks something that is not going to happen. Why should you go with it?

He is apparently not done, and clears his throat and points to his own neck. “And maybe, put some concealer on? Don’t want your mother to have a heart attack seeing those marks on your neck.”

And that’s how in forty minutes, you ended up wearing navy green turtleneck and long skinny jeans—thankfully the chilly weather does support your outfits—descending your apartment building after Taehyung said he’s already parked in front. You were distinctly nervous, going back to your family home with Taehyung after the longest time. Just being around him sends you on your edge, and you could only wish nothing is going to mess everything up.

The first thing you see when the elevator is opened is Taehyung’s face that you abruptly take a step back in shock. His face immediately lightens up. “Good morning. You’re here.”

“Yes. I thought I’ll see you in your car?”

“Sure, I just thought it would be great to see your apartment.” Taehyung answers, a soft smile appearing on his lips. Namjoon’s sentences instantly pass through your head as a warning. You clear your throat.

“Namjoon is upstairs, though...”

“So? Is that a problem for me to see your apartment?” He mischievously teases, pulling you to exit the apartment. “What were you thinking, huh?”

“Nothing!” You abruptly answer, silently letting Taehyung hold your palm against his, no matter how conflicted it makes you feel.

“By the way, are you okay, babe?” Taehyung asks in concern after arriving at the car, reminding you to put on your seatbelt. Your eyebrow raises.

“I think so. Why?”

“Did you fall or anything? You are..  Kind of limping.” He questions in deep concern, looking straight to your eyes. At once, your breath hastens with anxiety. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes! Of course—I fell in the shower yesterday, and got hurt a bit, yeah..” You tightly mutter. At least it was not a hundred person lie.

Gosh, how you wish you can punch that annoying motherfucker now…

*

“Taehyung! You’re here!”

You glare at your beaming mother slightly skipping to welcome both of you from her tended yard, crushing Taehyung in a big hug. “Mom, I’m right here too. And last time I checked, I’m the one who is related by blood to you.”

“Don’t be such a party pooper, Y/N.” Taehyung giggles, affectionately hugging back your mother. “I’m sorry mom, Y/N is soooo grumpy this morning. She may have woken up on the wrong side of the bed.”

“It’s just I haven’t seen you in so long. How is my precious son doing?!” Your mother beams, instantly welcoming Taehyung inside the house, leaving you alone to pick up the fruits and cake you brought from Seoul. But not even long, the scowl changes into a contented smile on your lips.

You are grateful that nothing really changes, especially with Taehyung. He is still the one person you can depend the most in this whole world.

Suddenly, among your wandering thoughts your phone rings. You hurriedly pick up, not even checking the caller. “Hello?”

“Hi, is this Y/N?” You notice the change of language, and silently checks the number. Abroad numbers? Suspicious.

“Yes, this is she.” You doubtfully answer.

“Hello, This is Jess. I’m here in Seoul today, can we meet?”

Jess? Who is Jess? You can’t literally remember anyone called Jess beside… your friend back in the States. You were not even remotely close, so there’s no way it could be her.

“Sorry, but which Jess?”

She instantly clears her throat, probably embarrassed at the possibility of you not remembering. “We went to the same high school back in the States, before your parents divorced and you moved to Korea.”

So that’s the correct Jess then. But that still doesn’t explain why she is calling you right now, especially with that unnecessary mention of your parent’s divorce. “Ah, I remember now. But why? Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Yes, I am in Seoul now. I have to talk to you about something, I promise it won’t take a while.”

“But why? We haven’t talked in years, what could possibly be the reason why we should meet?” You annoyedly point out, not even caring that you have turned hostile to her. You really don’t want to waste any time, especially with Taehyung now at the door, signing you to come in.

“It’s about Jungkook.” She curtly answers, and your heart literally skips a beat at the name. What’s with Jungkook? Your heart clenches with the fear rising in your chest.

“His family and I are here now to take him back to the States, so I have to let you know something. Let’s meet.”

*

It is not long until you and Jess are already sitting in front of each other inside a cafe near your family home. You left Taehyung at home with your family, and promised them you’ll be back in no time.

“You want to order something? My treat.” The girl says after ordering her drinks. You shake your head, not even enjoying the seconds uselessy passed with her. You are just desperate to get it over with and head home.

She shakes her head. “I didn’t remember you being this uptight, Y/N. Loosen up, will you?”

“Well, you don’t know, probably because we weren’t even that close?” You shoot and sigh. “Can we just go straight to the point? My mother is waiting at home.”

Jess hums. “And Kim Taehyung too?”

You glare at her, the uneasiness rising in your head. You have no idea why she should know anything about Taehyung. “What the—”

“I’ll cut to the chase. Jungkook is his family’s only son. His father already had his future all planned out, but then one day he ran away to work in a country far away, with a job that probably pays a quarter from what he could have back home.” She halts after the waitress serves her drinks. “And then we finds out that he is here because of you, a fucking ex—who was just a mere fuck buddies. So we need you to think straight and stop seeing him.”

You stare at her for a full minute until you break in laughter. “What’s funny?” She irks.

“Fuck, this is all just like a midday telenovela, that’s what.” You giggle, still finding mirth in her previous statement. You clear your throat, and send her an not amused look. “Let me fill you in. I don’t fucking care. He’s here because himself, you’re thinking too highly of that one month we fucked. And who are you to say that anyway? You’re his mother or what?”

Jess condescendingly smirks in triumph. “I am his girlfriend. We have been dating all through college before he moved here. I have all right to tell cockroaches like you to scoot off. Besides, you already have Kim, no? Are you really that thirsty for lots of men?”

That statement literally catches you off guard. Girlfriend? Jungkook never mentions anything about a girlfriend. He literally said that he hadn’t been with anyone and that he thought about you most of the time. Was it all… just a lie?

It was like a knock to your chest, but you won’t let it show. “Then you should know better that if you dated all through college, there is no way he could move here because of me.” You calmly explain, the anger and sadness of betrayal building up in your chest. It feels hard to even breathe, and you feel so stupid for believing his words could be true—now that you rewind literally made no sense whatsoever. Jungkook is not with anyone for years, only because of you? Fuck, that’s literally nonsensical.

“And if you’re his girlfriend, you should know he’s here because he is depressed—feeling the inadequacy and constant restriction in doing whatever he wants to do. If you’re his girlfriend, you should support whatever he wants to do for his happiness, instead of teaming up with his father that literally treated him like a fucking robot.” You spit out in dismay, the tears are welling up in your eyes. You hated the fact that you’ve foolishly put your trust on someone undeserving, yet again.

It’s clear now that you have left the girl speechless, and you quickly stomp out of the cafe inside of Taehyung’s car you borrowed. You quickly drive out, with tears freely running on your cheeks, your heart turns hollow and vacant now that you know.

You are a fucking idiot, that’s what.

*

It’s already eleven pm, you are now resting in your room in the family home. Your mother successfully tricked you into staying the night, but Taehyung said he needed to go back to his apartment because he doesn’t have any shirt to change to—denying your mother’s forward offer to let him stay the night with you in your room. The level of trust your mother has in Taehyung is seriously ridiculous—but still he said he’ll be back tomorrow morning to pick you up, as he needed to work in the headquarters for a full week next week.

‘Are you okay?’ Taehyung queried when he was about to drive back, hand clasped against yours. ‘You seemed a little bit upset after that meeting.’

Even then, you could only answer him with a vague shrug, a hug and you cried. Taehyung didn’t ask any further, patting your back calmly while whispering calming words to your ear. He understood you need your space more than anything, and you were thankful.

But now, flipping on your bed for hours hasn’t drifted you to dreamland yet, especially with a head filled with Jungkook and overwhelming queries on how he’s doing right now. And you hate yourself for still caring—it’s freaking Jungkook, who left you after he had enough, who easily lied to you just to sleep with you. Why can’t you just ditch him like that?

Maybe you’re really in love. A total dumbass.

Suddenly, your phone rings. Unknown numbers. Call with Jess did traumatize you, but not taking it will leave you close to no wink of sleep, so you do.

“Hello?” You warily questions. There are around ten seconds before the familiar sigh is heard on the other side of the call.

“Y/N, this is Jungkook.” The familiar voice is close to whispers, and all you can hear is how tired he sounds. Something definitely stirs inside of you. “Are you in your mother’s home? I’ll be there in ten. Can we talk?”

You know it. You know it very, very well. He might as well done it over the phone—it may hurt less. “Is it urgent? Can’t.. can’t we just do it over the phone?”

“No, we need to talk directly. It doesn’t feel right doing it on the phone.”

Fuck, it’s really is. Jungkook is breaking up with you—with no relationships to begin with. The tears are clamming up on your eyes, and you can only hope you’re strong enough to pretend everything’s okay. Cause you hate to show him how weak you are for him.

And not even ten minutes, Jungkook messages you he’s already waiting outside. You walk outside your room to see that your whole house is already dark—your family must have gone to sleep. Good, so they don’t have to see you bawling your eyes out.

When you are at your porch, you can already make out his silhouette from the car. His hand is on the wheel, other hands are resting on his temples—the lines of his face are harsh and cold. Taking a deep breath, you give yourself one last warning and enter his car.

“What is it?” You curtly ask, and Jungkook looks at you with a weirded out stare.

“Why are you angry?”

You roll your eyes, arms folded on your chest. “Because I know clearly why you are here. Jess explicitly told me about everything—you don’t need to waste both of our times, going all the way here just because you want to break up with me. That too if anything of what we did was more than something to you.”

Jungkook stares at you like you’re spluttering nonsense, which you actually are and it leaves you disconcerted. “What—what the fuck are you saying now?”

You scowl. “No need to lie. I know exactly what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna need to move back, right? And you’ll leave your whole life here—” The tears choke you up. “You’ll leave me here. But let me say it, do whatever, Jungkook. It will be just like before, right? It’s not like we've never done this before.”

If you’re really doing it to hurt him, you succeed. Because the pain is literally insufferable.  “Is that what we mean to you? Are you going to just let everything like this like not a shit happened to us?”

“You’re funny, Jungkook. There’s never been an ‘us’, you know it.” You vex with a sarcastic grin. “There’s never been us. Because you lied to me, fuck me and stood me up like nothing happened, right?”

“That’s not true.” He firmly said. “I left first because of my father, Y/N. He told me he’s in town. I need to meet him, why can’t you understand?!”

“I know that! But you expected me to believe all you said when Jess literally came all the way from the States to tell me to fuck off and that you’re in a relationship with her all through college.” Jungkook freezes on his spot, but you’re not done. “Is that wrong, Jungkook? Tell me she lied and I’ll grovel at your feet for forgiveness.”

At Jungkook’s silence, you can feel a stingy pang inside your chest. It was true, he lied. “So she was right? You lied to me—telling me there was no one, only to sleep with me?”

“It’s not true, Y/N. Jess was just… someone I affiliated with. We were not in a relationship.” He hurriedly tries to explain, hand scratching his hair in frustration. “And why does it matter anyway? It’s all in the past, it doesn’t matter now. I only care about you, you know it.”

“It matters! Because you told me there was no one. Because you lied to me, Jungkook. Why can’t you see how wrong it is?”

“She was just someone I fucked with all through college. Even if she thought there was something else, there was none. I set it straight to her, but she never understands.” He softly whispers now. “I regretted it, Y/N. But you can’t hold it against me. I had no feelings for her.”

You know his words should’ve brought reassurance, but the words clearly strike something inside you—a remembrance of pain. You croak. “You know what, that’s exactly what Taehyung told me that time.”

“What-what’s that fucker doing here in our talk?” His voice raises in displease at your mention of another man during your serious talk. “So was everything about Taehyung? All of this—even when we’re fighting, you’re thinking about him. It was all about him all along.”

“No, but the exact thing happened again. You were being dishonest to me. You hurt me, Jungkook.” You whisper softly, cheeks already flowing with tears that it literally throws him off at how fragile you look. “I can’t… I can’t shake that feeling. How I felt when she said everything, like she owned you, like… like she has rights for you. Like I was someone you played with behind her. It was exactly.. that.”

“Hey, I’m sorry you had to feel that way.” Jungkook whispers and pulls you closer inside his arm, heart clenched in guilt at your weak sob. He hates himself for doing that to you—to let you enter the maze of problems he has tried to escape from a while now. You don’t deserve that. “I’m sorry for being such a jerk. I know I should’ve been clearer about everything.”

Ten minutes of crying your concern and heart out inside his arms before you open your voice. “So, she was right? Are you leaving, then?”

He dubiously hums. “I have to, otherwise my father will never stop trying to get me back. I’ll try finishing whatever I can there, and come back right after.” He whispers, palms buried on your hair. “I promise it won’t take long. Can you wait for me?”

You look at Jungkook's hopeful eyes and the ‘yes’ is already at your tongue—when something awakens you. You cannot do that to yourself. You cannot let yourself be miserable, waiting for him again like a broken clock. You cannot gamble your way to mend everything when he leaves, not when there’s any possibility like he’ll leave you again like he did. You’re not that strong.

“I can’t.” You shortly reply, and at the unexpected answer, Jungkook is visibly aggrieved.

“Why? Why can’t you? I’ll be back soon, Y/N—Why do you give up on us that easily?” Jungkook is peeved at your easy surrender. He loves you, he is willing to work it out for you, and it weakens him to see you’re not on board to fight for any feelings you both have for each other. “I know you, Y/N. I know me. We had something together. Please, don’t give up on us.”

“I can’t, because I don’t want to let you hurt me again, Jungkook. Happy?” You shouts, carrying the long pain you have carried throughout your days. “I hate myself for letting myself trust and ending up getting hurt. If I wait for you, I’ll always feel insecure, Jungkook. I’ll always wonder if you’re going back, if you have found someone else, if we’re just going to hurt each other. Because that's what people did to me—to my mother, to us… I can’t.”

Jungkook shudders at the mention of your family. Did he hear it wrong? “Did you mean… your father? But I thought… I thought—”

“Yes.” The hurt multiplies, palpable on your face. “My father lied to me. He is a manipulative jerk who never gave a shit about his family, and made my mother the bad guy in front of me. He didn’t care at all—my mother was struggling with cancer and he didn’t give a shit and still went with the divorce. I just knew after my mother went to find me, beg me to come with her after the divorce.”

The regret at his old self, patronizing you without knowing the truth hits him like a brick. “God, Y/N, I’m sorry. I was—”

“I know. It was such a stressful time, and the pain my mother had to endure because of him—I hated him so much I could die, Jungkook. He hurt me, he hurt us. And he is now living well with his new family, the one he cheated with before. It is not fucking fair.”

Jungkook moves forward to hold you close, his heart wrenching in pain to imagine how agonizing it must have been for you and your mother. “I’m sorry for everything. I was a stupid jerk who thought I knew everything, you had every rights to hate me. I am very, very sorry, Y/N.”

“That’s why I have trust issues. I know very well that one bad apple doesn’t define everything, but it made me more cautious above anything. I can’t afford being weak now, I can’t gamble on the future whether what we had now is gonna last. I don’t want to be naive.”

No matter how he wants to refute your words, he can’t. Because Jungkook understands where you’re coming from, and how traumatizing it must have been. He’d be insensitive to shrug your concern away. “I understand. But I won’t ask for more, Y/N..”

“I’ll be back before December ends.” Jungkook determinedly claims, holding you closer that his nose point is touching yours, warm palms against the side of your face which sends your whole being to instant chaos. His eyes are like a deep sea, that you’re willing to fall in and never out, and all you want to do is hold him close, kiss him and never let go.

“And when we finally meet, I’ll let you know that I will still be loving you then and I’m going to fight for us. No matter what happened.”

*

After having breakfast with both your mother, grandma and Taehyung, you hug the goodbyes. You regret it though, the days passed so quickly and you don’t really have much time to completely be in the moment with your family since your mind is wandering far. If your mother knows, she doesn’t comment—but you know that soft gaze she endows, she is worried for you.

“Goodbye, son! Do visit us regularly, okay?” Your mother beams, hugging Taehyung. She glances at you walking to your room to grab your purse and continues. “I’m very worried for her. Can you please make sure she’s okay?”

“What happened?” Taehyung asks in concern. He did notice something changed after you met your friend yesterday, but it’s definitely getting prominent this morning. 

“Someone came to our house yesterday, and spent some time in the car. After, she walks out crying.” Your mother frets, squeezing Taehyung’s palm. “I’m worried. Can you keep an eye on her?”

“Of course I will.” Taehyung smiles in a comforting manner, tapping on your mother’s palm. “You can count on me, mom.”

Your mother instantly smiles, as she understands by heart she really can count on Taehyung for you. “Thank you. Get going now!” She gestures to walk you out to Taehyung’s car.

Sitting inside the car, your eyes are trained out the window, minds wandering far to last night’s encounter with Jungkook. He said he’ll be back, and you shouldn’t believe him—you told him you won’t, but deep inside you never stopped wishing his words are true. You foolishly believe him with all your heart.

“Hey.”

Taehyung’s call abruptly takes you off your wandering thoughts, shifting your gaze at him. You clear your throat. “Yes? Sorry, I was daydreaming for a while there.”

“I think you’ve been daydreaming all the time we’re here.”

He said the words softly and didn’t mean anything, yet it instantly hits you with guilt. “I’m sorry, I was—”

“Was it about Jungkook?”

“What?” Your eyes widened, heart literally skips a beat. Are you really that obvious?

Taehyung stares at you for a few seconds, then focusing back on the street. “It’s just a lucky guess. And seeing how shocked you were just now, it must be true.”

“It is.” You look down to your lap. “I’m sorry for concerning you.”

“What are you sorry about.” Taehyung chuckles, tapping the top of your head. “He is finally here. The one you’ve been thinking about all through college, your first love, your first heartbreak is here. You should be happy.”

It’s true though. You can’t even count how many people you have pushed away only because you’re thinking about Jungkook. In the period where everyone is just desperate to find love or mere sex, you are not even remotely close to it. You weren’t with anyone all through college. All because you’re thinking about how it feels right to be with Jungkook, how in love you actually were and how foolish it could be to let go of one thing that could have been true just because you were too deep in emotion.

And Taehyung was one of the people that lived through that phase of shutting any possibility of love. He couldn’t even forget how his college friends, or even strangers asking him why are you so closed off, refusing any advancement anyone did. But Taehyung shrugged it away, because he knew how you still couldn’t forget your first love. He didn’t even know how or why you are still able to hold into that love for such a long time—not until he fell for you himself.

When he asked you to be his girlfriend a year ago and you said yes, he really thought you were ready to move on. Finally. And maybe you were, before he messed up everything and it’s already too late. Because Jungkook is back, and how can he compare to the first love, which vaguely ended and still left a sour taste of regret in your heart.

When he saw Jungkook that morning, he knew. He knew that he didn’t stand a chance. Because it’s apparent how head over heels he is still with you, like you are with him. And he just needs to accept it.

“Go with your heart, Y/N.” Taehyung croaks, holding the deep urge inside him forcing him to stop being such goody two shoes. Taehyung is still in love with you. Madly. He loves you for quite a long time now, and he wanted to be yours. But how can he be selfish when you are clearly struggling like this?

“Do you know? The biggest regret I have is to let you go.” 

You glance at Taehyung, as something stirs inside your heart with him addressing your past. “I regret not making everything clear. I regret not fighting for us. I regret not being honest with you, because I was selfish and too much of a coward.”

“I still love you.” Taehyung whispers, the grip on the wheel tightened. You stare at him, speechless while Namjoon’s past words suddenly run through your mind. “But it’s okay. Because above anything, I want you to be happy. Seeing you being miserable makes me extremely sad, Y/N. Please, just go with your heart and be happy.”

Another minute passed in silence, before you mutter gloomily. “I’m sorry. I just don’t know what to say..”

“Let me guide you, then.” Taehyung smiles, his palm resting over yours and gives it a light squeeze. “Thank you for loving me, Taehyung. I know we’ll get through this, as best friends. And you are right, I’ll go with my heart and try to take risk in love, because even though it might hurt me, at the very least I followed my heart instead of my fear.”

His words literally punch you in the gut, because now that he’s the one saying it to you, it never felt clearer. You indeed have been following your fear, discarding how you truly feel for anything or anyone. You love Jungkook, but being afraid has shielded you from following what you really want to do.

Another ten minutes before you give his hand a light squeeze. “You know, I never thought you'd be that much of a bigger person.” You lightly joke, in which Taehyung responds with a snort. “You were not usually like this. Where’s my selfish and self-righteous bestie at?!”

“Well, don’t consider I’m letting you go just yet.” He shrugs jokingly, rolling his eyes. You heartily laugh at that. “Besides, life is still long, right? Don’t count it on me giving up just yet, Y/N. I might just steal your heart away, and that lucky bastard Jungkook should be nervous.” You gaze at Taehyung who is looking back at you with his signature boxy smile, and your heart lightens. God, how lucky you are to have such a great companion like him.

“You know what? He really should.”

*

7 Weeks Later…

Jungkook is looking at the watch on his wrist. It’s already 4PM in his time and 8AM in Seoul. You must be preparing for work, he thinks to himself, unconsciously smiling. That’s what he does whenever it concerns you. He’ll be adored at the thoughts of you walking hastily inside the office, throwing all your belongings on your desk before you begin working. He always finds it endearing. And then, he’ll miss you. He will miss looking at you, talking and bantering with you again.

But not today, since he’ll be over in Seoul in no time.

All seven weeks back in the States were dreadful, but he managed. He knew that it was longer than expected, but he managed to steal the time to find you again. Because in all sincereness, all that he can think of is you.

blueberry_25 : good thursday morning! Soo happy gonna end the week soon! [16:05]

blueberry_25 : what are you doing this weekend? Do you wanna meet? :) [16:06]

It’s funny how he gives you the space you deserve, yet still manages to talk to you again nearly everyday. All because of the pen pal event held by the company which he has resigned from. He needed to take a long break, and had to resign after. The company did give him an option if he wanted to return back, but with the current condition, he is not really sure whether he can return for good.

But at least he got some time to see you again. Which is good.

91snowball : hi, blue, hope you have a great day today too! :) [16:07]

91snowball : we’re going to meet tomorrow. The christmas event, remember? [16:07]

blueberry_25 : I nearly forgot! So hectic today since that finance guy resigned and caused such chaos again. Thanks for the reminder though lol [16:08]

Jungkook literally winces, as you haven’t stopped complaining about the sudden resignation of the finance guy that is literally him regarding your overwhelming work caused by a certain prematurely resigning self-centered jerk. Even one time he mistakenly apologized for it. Nevertheless, it was all fun and games before he thought about how to break it up to you. That he is a snowball, the person you’ve been chatting with anonymously for months, and nearly everyday now. Talking to you were the highlights of his days, and he couldn’t stop. Even for a day.

And he is in the dark on how to break the truth to you. 

The soft chimes of his phone takes him away from the busy thoughts. Jungkook looks down and finds another message from you. The heartfelt smile instinctively appears on his lips.

blueberry_25 : did you get me anything? ;) Can I set my expectations high? [16:10]

91snowball : haha hope so. See you tomorrow, okay? [16:10]

The announcement for passengers to onboard is heard, so Jungkook raises from his seat to join the queue. An anonymous feeling shot through his chest, a heartfelt smile formed on his lips. He is going back. Finally. He finally is going to see you again and it feels terribly unreal. 

Right when another message arrives, and at once the corners of his mouth instantly flattens.

Mom : Son,don’t forget. I’ll pick you up next week. [16:12]

*

“Bye, Y/N, Hoseok!” 

Another person from your team has escaped the dreaded office, yet you and Hoseok are still not showing any sign of moving from your respective places. There are still a few action items on your list that need to be checked off by the night if you want to have a peaceful weekend, and you are determined to have them finished asap.

Because you are going to meet Snowball tomorrow. And you’re going to spend your whole weekend with him too.

“Y/N, why are you not going home?” Hoseok asks in worry while glancing at your screen. “This report needs to be submitted on Monday. You can finish it tomorrow.”

“But tomorrow we are having that Christmas event. I want to finish this before then.” You answer nonchalantly, still typing agilely on your keyboard. Seeing how befuddled Hoseok looks, you roll your eyes. “That pen pal secret santa event. Remember?”

Hoseok instantly turns silent at the mention of the event. God, how could he forget? Tomorrow the office’s Christmas party will be held, along with the first meeting of the anonymous pen pal buddies. Jimin and his team have everything planned out, in which the pair would give a gift inside a box which includes a card to describe and help find who is their pen pal.

It was indeed a brilliant idea. But maybe not to the fact that Jungkook is literally your pen pal, and the fact that you are unaware of how close he has been even after he left.

It doesn’t even need an exquisite skill to guess that something happened with Jungkook and you, especially discernible after he left. You turn greatly silent, and he found you zooming out more than you’d like to admit, and you’re shine dimmed. It was incredibly saddening for nearly everyone, but it’s not for long since you found someone to take your minds off things—who turns out to be your pen pal, or ironically, Jungkook.

And Hoseok has multiple times warned Jungkook that it’s not going to work. You would be furious to find out—who would adore the fact that someone is indeed lying?

“So… your partner will be coming?” Hoseok hesitatingly asks, looking down his lap. “Are you sure?”

“Of course. I know he’ll be coming.” You shift your gaze to Hoseok and beam. “He’ll give me a present and I’ll finally meet him.”

Hoseok nods, but something urges him to continue. “But… what if he won’t come?”

Your eyebrows scrunched. “What do you mean?”

He clears his throat. “Maybe? You know, he might have something to do tomorrow, urgently. Or maybe he is not that invested in this like you are? Because let’s be real here, Y/N, you are too deep into this.”

You send a thriving punch to his shoulder that Hoseok immediately winces and. “What is that for?!”

“For being such a source of negativity. Seriously, Hoseok, you used to be sooo positive. Stop hanging out too much with Yoongi.”

“I’m not kidding, Y/N.” Hoseok sternly gazes at you. “Don’t put your hopes too high. I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

You smile at him, not even an ounce of doubt seen on your face. “Snowball won’t disappoint me, Hoseok. He’s not like Jungkook.”

At such ironic statements, Hoseok immediately turns speechless—something inside him literally withers. God, how he wishes he could cease you from hurting...

*

It’s already eight pm, and Jungkook is still settling inside his car in front of the building where the Christmas Event is held. His right hand is tapping lightly on the wheel, inside his left grasp is a midnight green colored box in which is the present he prepared for you.

The event will be starting soon, but he’s still waiting for a cue from Yoongi—the only person who knew about his arrival in Korea—when he should be entering. Attract attention is the last he would want, especially when too many people or the bosses are around, as he is obviously not invited now that he has resigned.

Yet needless to say, it is not the main issue concerning his mind. He couldn’t even care less if he is going to be kicked out of the event, as long as he can see you and be with you again. But how can he hope so? All kinds of scenarios are running through his mind about how you would react to him being Snowball, your anonymous pen pal in which you have told him about nearly everything. And it's foolish to even think that you would be fine about him catfishing you—hopefully it’s not the correct term for that.

At first, it was just a mere idea during work, Jimin was joking about how he would make you as his anonymous pen pal after he was informed of a small piece about your past with Jungkook. And Jungkook was not going to think about it more, but he was desperate. He wanted to talk to you again without any resentment—but it could probably be the least thing you want to do in this lifetime, so he begged Jimin to arrange it for him. Even if it was merely anonymous.

But now it could probably be the best yet the worst thing that he had done to you. You are the thing that keeps him sane after being locked again in his hometown, but he is now gambling with the relationship you both have. He is literally lying to you again—just like the worst fight happened in front of your house porch. God, everything is literally a mess.

Suddenly, the sound of an incoming call disrupts his trainwreck thoughts. Min Yoongi.

“Jungkook, the event will be conducted in half an hour, you need to submit your present. The bosses are gone. Come.” Yoongi calmly informs, conflicting to the thoughts on Jungkook’s mind. The fear and insecurity instantly strikes him.

“I don’t know whether I should do this, I mean—”

“Look at your chat.”

Yoongi has an authority tone on his voice that Jungkook immediately obeys, opening his chat. Yoongi has sent a picture of you, lively talking with your friends. You look exquisite, wearing a red ball gown dress that falls on your knee, the blush is apparent on your cheek. You simply look.. stunning.

“She has waited and prepared all this shit because she believed her idiot, fucking selfish so-called pen pal is here. Seriously, you’re not doing any good by pretending again. Just come, Jungkook.”

At once, it was like a knock to his heart at how selfish and undeserving he is to you. It’s okay if you’re angry, he’ll grovel at your feet. And if you don’t want to see him again? Well, he just needs to wait again. He waited for five years to see you again—what is another waiting, right?

Heaving a deep breath, Jungkook finally steps out of his car. He cannot lie that he is excessively frightened, the image of you crying and pushing him away is vivid and it stings. But he promised you he’ll be back before the year ends, and he’ll live up to that promise.

Walking out of the lift, the first person he sees is Jimin, sitting behind the front table from the ballroom. He is now receiving gifts from various people, which Jungkook assumes must be for the pen pal event. He walks closer, until Jimin can finally see him, and somehow, upon meeting your face, he literally falls a few steps back, face bleached like he just saw a ghost.

“J-jungkook?”

Jungkook smiles and rests the gift on the table. “Hi, Jimin. This is my gift for her.”

“B-b-but how—why? How can you’re here? I thought—I thought you’re moving and—”

“Yes. But I’m here now.” Jungkook thinly smiles. “May I know what I should do next?”

“Y-yes. So, the pair will be divided into two rooms, and when we cue, we will let you find each other, with the stuff and card inside the gift.” The panic is still evident on his face, but Jungkook just shrugs it away. Jimin can be overreacting at times.

“May I enter my room now?”

Jimin instantly nods as an answer, and points to the room on his right. “You can enter the room on the right. But Jungkook?”

Jungkook stares at Jimin, waiting for the continuation. “Good luck there. And I’m sorry.” He clears his throat, and points to the room. “You go now.”

Jungkook doesn’t even know if that’s really something for Jimin to be sorry about, but he literally couldn’t care less when he’s just minutes away from meeting you. “Thanks.”

Inside the room, there are a few people who are high chance waiting for the pen pal committee as well. The moment he enters, he can see a few confused eyes staring at him, but the moment he finds Namjoon, he can finally breathe. Namjoon is not too different though, staring at him with weirded out eyes.

“Jungkook, you’re here?” He blinks a few times, rubbing his eyes. “Am I drinking too much champagne or are you really here?”

“I am.” He chuckles. “I came back to fulfill a promise, I guess.”

“Y/N? Because she’s your pen pal, right?” Jungkook nods slowly. “God, do you know there’s a very high chance that she’ll kick your ass for all this bamboozling shit?”

“Affirmatively.” Jungkook grins, yet his fingers are nervously fidgeting, a habit he inhibited since a month ago. “But, I just… I am trying, you know?”

Namjoon nods and taps on Jungkook’s back to relay comfort. “She loves you too. Even if she’s furious, she’ll come around.” Jungkook can only hope so.

At that time, the committees enter with a trolly of boxes that must be the pen pal gift. One of them hands Namjoon and Jungkook’s respective gifts. “You can start finding your pen pal now.”

Jungkook looks down on the blue box on his grasp, and he flinches with palms turning clammy from cold sweat, heartbeat too fast he could even hear it with his ear. Step by step, he enters the other room. Scanning the room, his sight instantly falls to you, smiling while looking down to the familiar box on your grasp. Your wavy hair settles perfectly on your shoulder, a serene smile formed on your lips.

‘I can’t, because I don’t want to let you hurt me again, Jungkook. Happy? I hate myself for letting myself trust and ending up getting hurt.’

Just when he is about to take another step closer to you, the remembrance of that night hits him straight in the gut. He is hurting you. Again. And you’ll leave. You’ll never want to see him again.

The weight on his shoulders triple at the petrifying scenario running through his mind, and Jungkook instinctively takes a step back and runs outside the room. No, he can’t do this. He is too scared. He thought he is ready to take every chance, but it turns out not much has changed, because he’s still the coward he was nearly five years ago.

Jungkook walks to the hotel balcony, heaving several deep breaths. The sky is exceptionally beautiful, the full moon is wandering in the sky and it invokes a memory within his mind.

About the night you cried in front of him for the first time.

“Are you afraid?” Jungkook whispered that night, gazing down at you. The loud blazing sound of bass was faintly heard, but both of you are sitting near the gate, looking out to the sky. You stare at him and shift back your empty gaze to the full moon. You despise that no matter how strenuous you tried to suppress the pain, it kept on rising back and numbs all your feelings.

“I am not afraid of you.” You weakly replied, the exhaustion vivid on your tone.

“I know.” Jungkook followed your gaze. “Are you afraid you’ll cry in front of me?”

You gazed at him, eyes filled with sadness and animosity. “What?”

“It’s literally a party inside. And you’ve been looking like you’re in a freaking funeral—well, beside the drinking part.” You were surprised with how susceptible he was. The day had indeed been counted as one of the worst days of your life, and it’s not even over yet. And you were fucking tired of crying, hence you decided to numb everything and wasted all your energy to alcohol instead. So at least you won’t remember again.

“Just cry.” He tranquilly whispers, his palm settles on the side of your face. “Those tears—I’ll catch them for you.”

And you just did.

Looking down to his lap, he is looking at the box on his grasp from you. Huffing a deep breath, he moves to open the box with not much thoughts—yet his mind abruptly turns blank after seeing the items resting in the box. 

What… are these?

“Are you afraid?”

Turning on his heel, Jungkook’s strained gaze fell on the eyes he thought would never see this up close again. It’s you. You are literally just a distance away in front of him right now, that he might need to pinch himself to ensure everything is not a piece of his hallucination. 

“What?” 

“Because you look like you’re about to cry.” You whisper calmly, arms folded on your chest. “Are you that afraid to meet me again?”

Jungkook is now staring at you, face conflicted. He is at haze on everything that just unfolded. “How did you—how did you know?”

“You think I won’t find out that you’re snowball?” You took a step closer, glancing at the items on the box. A basketball keychain and a frame of photo taken five years ago, the two of you side by side with a shy smile on both your faces. It was something he never thought would receive from his pen pal, even in his wildest dream.

“You think I won’t recognize you?”

Jungkook stutters. “What do you—”

“I know everything.” You cut him right away, face still expressionless. “I know it. You are snowball, I know you bribed Jimin into arranging, I know you are hiding by talking to me anonymously with snowball as an identity—everything. I know it’s you who I’m talking to these past seven weeks.”

A good five minutes passed before Jungkook could even let out a sound, let alone a coherent statement. 

“Are you… angry at me?”

“Yes.” You respond, not even missing a hint of hesitation in your tone. The physical pain is even more evident now. “I hate you. I hate you for fabricating lies about us. When I found out for the first time that it was you, I was furious. I felt played, like an idiot. I told you, I hate when someone lies to me. Do you remember?”

“I know.”

Another minutes spent staring each other, then you sigh in tiredness. “But more than anything, I missed you.” You continue, your tone falters as your eyes are far away, the sudden weakness stirs something inside his chest. “I miss you like crazy, and I took it. I took the lies, if it means I can talk to you again. Like an idiot, I didn’t think straight.”

Jungkook stares at you, waiting for you to continue. “I know I decided not to wait for you, but it was foolish. Waiting for you—that’s not an option I could make. And no matter how much I decided I need to stop thinking about you, I can’t. I am an idiot, who—”

At once, Jungkook is now hugging you close, not even a breath between the two of you. The feelings are familiar, yet so strange since the butterflies are knocking your stomach with nerves now. Jungkook is here. He is finally here, hugging you close. It’s literally the dream you’ve been having for a while now.

“I came back.”

You hum.

“For you. For the promise I made us.”

You hum.

“I am sorry. For everything. I shouldn’t have lied. I shouldn’t have bribed Jimin.”

You hum.

Jungkook lets you go, anxious at the possibility of you lying and suppress all your feelings just for the sake of him. “Can you say something? Anything. Please be mad at me, or anything, because you have the rights to. But please don’t be silent, I beg you.”

“I love you.”

Those three words are most absolutely not the word he is expecting. He confusedly searches your eyes. “If you said I can say anything, I want to say that for the first time. I love you, Jungkook.”

Jungkook stares at you, still in disbelief of the possibility of his hearing deceiving him. “What?”

“I love you. And I want to fight for us.” You whisper, squeezing his palm against yours. “ I am sorry too. I let my emotion and fear take over, and I hurt you. I am in this just like you are, so don’t blame yourself alone, hmm?”

“I love you too.” Jungkook responds, as he pulls you close by the nape, crashing his lips on yours and taking your breath away. “I love you more than anything. I love you more than anyone. I am sorry, I am very sorry.”

You hold him closer by the waist, minutes passed just to feel how warm he is against you, the familiar scent seeps inside your brain that disoriented your whole being. As he lightly bites your lower lips and instinctively forces a moan out of you,  you shivers. Jungkook swiftly takes the chance to push through and leaves a beautiful taste on your tongue. Your fingers run through his hair, feeling the soft hair falls between your fingers. Giving it a light tug, you are more than satisfied to find Jungkook is just as affected as you by the way he bemoans.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Jungkook creakily whispers, not even hiding the lust and desire lacing his tone and not even a second thought is spent, you nod. You are desperate to have him again like the way it was before, to leave nothing between the two of you, to feel him close and beg for him to take you again, pleasuring you like no one could. 

“By the way, you look beautiful tonight.” He smiles, squeezing your waist with his palm. “You always do, but maybe the fact that I haven’t seen you for seven weeks, now that you are wearing this beautiful dress—It’s just.. breathtaking.”

You roll your eyes, but are unable to suppress the beam on your lips. “You better keep that mindset, okay? Don’t you fucking dare say I look better naked later.”

Jungkook grins at that. “You know what? You just get me.”

“You know, I need to tell you this, but… I actually threatened Jimin to confirm that you are indeed snowball. And I have to say that it wasn’t pretty, and I wasn’t proud of it. We haven’t really been talking with each other after that..”

“What?!” Jungkook literally shouts, the imagination of you threatening Jimin with a knife forms on his head. No wonder he looks like a ghost after seeing him attend the event. “What did you do to the poor guy?!”

“Well, I may or may not… have caught him getting a blowjob from his teammate in the office one time.. And yup, you know the rest.” You wince, and hold out your palm together. “I swear, I have no intention to let anyone know, it was just a self defense method—”

“You just told me, you know.”

You pout, tugging on his blazer. “But you’re my Jungkook! It’s different.”

Jungkook sighs, but it’s foolish to lie that the possession terms you used before his name literally sends him into a blushing mess. He is unable to resist to steal a kiss from you once again. The moment your lips touching, you are left speechless—and wanting more that you still chase for his lips even after he pulls himself. You frown, folding your arms in indignation that you caught him grinning after. “Looks like someone is missing me too much, huh?”

“I hate you.” You obnoxiously spit.

“No, you love me.” 

“Yes, but I’m starting to regret it now.” 

Jungkook giggles, caressing the side of your pouty face. God, how is it possible to be luring and cute at the same time? Being with you is all kinds of emotions lured into one, and it left him wanting for more and more.

“I feel like I didn’t say this enough, but I love you, Y/N. I really, really do.” Jungkook whispers, as his finger pushes strands of hair to behind your ear, and you give him a smile which brightens his whole world. The moment he looks at you like this, he know he is sold. You’re his only sole chance, nothing and no one else.

“We’ll fight for each other, right?” Jungkook whispers and you stare at him back with a smile, and unlike before, this time you reply with a determined nod. One thing you know is that you’ll do anything to make the best out of each other—you’ll finally fight for what you feel instead of following your fear. Because you love Jungkook, and he feels the same way.

Oh, how he would trade everything to have this moment last forever...

===========================

I should have write this better lol was too distracted with life and kim soo hyun that its 🅱razy. I wish I have will to edit this too, tho

If you wonder if there’s an epilogue, there is! kindly follow me and slide into my ask box! stay safe, all!  💜💌

UPDATE : Find the Epilogue HERE !

[cryptid-killjoy]

orleans-jester​:

It had been a long while since Bastien had come home excited like this. Maddy was having a little bit of a rough day, so she probably needed this. Whatever it was.

She put her laptop off to the side, got on her feet and walked over, meeting him in the middle of their living space. “Okay, okay,” She said, trying to get more into Bastien’s tone, his energy. “I’m listening, tell me!”

“Well, it’s actually two things. But-But-But I want to go to the Philippines.” 

Then he started waving his hands like he was getting ahead of himself. 

“Wait. Back up. Rewind. Fireflies are going extinct here. But there’s still so many in Brazil, Peru, and the Philippines. You can go on Firefly tours. You can see the plankton glow and the fireflies everywhere at the same time there! Under the sea and up in the trees. How crazy is that? And it’s where the Happy Jail is. I watched a whole documentary on the jail there. You wanna go to the Philippines with me?”

Then he started waving his hands again because he was still getting off his main point of what he first learned that got him so excited. 

“AND you know what I learned today? Did you know swans aren’t even from here? All swans in North America have been imported. I had no idea. They’re all immigrants too in the birdie melting pot. Black swans aren’t even rare. Black swans are a whole breed and they’re from New Zealand. I had no damn idea. But there’s more Maddy, more.” 

His eyes grew wider. He wasn’t finished and he just kept going. “Swans mate for life. Not only do they mate for life but they kill themselves when their mate dies. Some breeds of swans even do it when their parents die. I found a whole list of swans breeds and which ones go into dark depressions when these things happens and what they do. They fly up as high as they can to the highest cloud and crash down on frozen lakes and just die. SMASH. Other ducks and water foul even know they do it and try to break holes in the lake. I couldn’t believe to try and save them. Some starve themselves. It’s a whole thing.” 

“I was thinking about your magic feather. Was it black or white? I forget things easy. Was it a black feather or did I just paint a black swan on it because I like black swans? I thought it was a black feather.” 

Bastien came rushing in their dungeon at a run. He dropped his hammer without even putting it in it's proper put-away location.

"MADDY!! MADDY!! You have to listen to what I learned tonight. You just have to."

His cheeks were flushed from the sprint. His pale skin all splotchy from the exertion to hurry up to get to her.

[queenxxxsupreme]

Study Session

A/N: I had a little chat earlier this week (I think it was this week) with @raspberrydreamclouds about the voice in my head being a southern male accent and this is what it produced. It wasn’t exactly what I had in mind (sadly no smut this time) but it is cute and definitley will be something I need to do again in the future. Here is my masterlist and here is the link to go to if you want to be on any of my taglists. 

Warnings: none, well reader is a bit h*rny and tries to get Sy to be h*rny too but there’s no smut, we’ve got lots of supportive Syverson and patient Syverson and I’m soft 

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: You struggle with homework. Syverson encourages you to continue.

*** 

You absentmindedly scrolled through tik tok, getting lost in yet another video as you were laying on your stomach on your bed. You had your school work spread out on half of the bed and your laptop was open, though the screen had gone to sleep from lack of use. Taking up the other half of the bed was Aika. The German Shepherd was snoring quietly while you stared at your phone screen. 

You didn’t even notice when she woke up, having heard the front door open. Her ears perked up and she listened intently. Then she looked at you, wondering if you’d react to noise. When you didn’t, Aika got up to investigate, padding downstairs. 

A few moments later, Syverson appeared in the doorway of the bedroom. Blue eyes flickered around the room, surveying the scene. 

You were still scrolling through that dumb social media site he didn’t understand. You often showed him videos you thought were funny or cute, but he didn’t get the point of the site. 

Your laptop was open but the screen was black. A notebook was open right next to it and there was a pen resting on top of it, but the paper was blank. A textbook rested next to the laptop, but it wasn’t opened. 

You were on your stomach propped up on your elbows. Your back was to him, so it was no surprise that you didn’t hear him.

“How’s your homework comin’ along, angel?”

You jumped at the sound of his voice, rolling over on to your side so that you could see him. 

“Sy.” You smiled at him. You placed your phone down and sat up. “What time is it? You’re home early.”

“Not exactly.” 

You tapped the mouse pad on your laptop and read the time. It was six o’clock. That was around the time he said he’d be home. He’d gone out to a buddy’s house for a couple hours and you were going to spend that time working on homework so that whenever he came back, you could spend time together. 

“Shit. I…. I lost track of time.” You rubbed your face.

“How much have of your studyin’ have ya gotten done?” He asked, tilting his head to the side a little. 

You looked down at the notebook, bringing your bottom lip between your teeth. A few moments of silence passed before your eyes flickered over to him. You said nothing in reply, biting the inside of your cheek.

“You’re jokin’, angel.” Syverson moved into the room to look at the notebook. “I was gone nearly four hours.”

“I know.” You muttered, crossing your arms. A sinking feeling found its way to your stomach. “I-I just…. No matter how much I looked at the fucking words, I can’t remember any of them. Nothing is sticking.”

Syverson sat down on the edge of the bed, eyes gliding over the blank notebook. 

“When are ya tested on it?”

“Monday. So three days.”

He nodded. 

“I just-I can’t do it, Logan.” You brushed your hair back out of your face then rubbed your eyes. “I sat here for I don’t even know how long just reading and reading over the stupid words and I can’t fucking make it stick in my head. I can’t understand them and I get them mixed up.”

“Have ya tried flashcards?” He suggested.

“I can’t do it by myself.” You shook your head, frowning.

“Why didn’t you just ask, angel? I’ll do them with you.” He rubbed Aika’s head as he stood up.

“Sy, you don’t have to. It’s your weekend off base. You’re supposed to be relaxing.”

“I don’t care” He spoke over his shoulder. He left the room momentarily, going over to your study. 

He returned a few moments later with a pack of index cards and a sharpie. 

“Sy, I don’t want to do this.” You whined. “I just want to spend time with you. Like we planned, remember?”

“That was if you had gotten all your studyin’ done, angel. You didn’t do that though, did ya?” He raised his brows. 

“No.” 

“You wanna write these out, or do you want my shitty handwritin’ instead?”

You threw yourself back on the bed, groaning loudly. 

“Sy! I don’t want to!”

Ignoring your little tantrum, Syverson sat back down on the edge of the bed and took your notebook and your laptop. He began to write out the words you needed to learn on one side and their definition on the other. 

You pulled a pillow from the top of the bed and put it over your face, letting out another rather dramatic groan. 

“I even put on a cute pair of panties for you underneath this shirt of yours I’m wearing, Syverson!”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you stole another one of my Metallica shirts.” Syverson glanced up at you. You were peeking out from underneath the pillow at him. Just as your eyes met, you smashed the pillow over your face again. “Come on, angel. Don’t be so dramatic. Let’s spend an hour or so on this and then we’ll call it a night. We can work more on it tomorrow.”

You were silent.

Syverson finished up writing the words, which took a little more than five minutes, and looked at you. 

You were still laying on your back with your knees bent and a pillow over your face. 

“Angel.”

He received no answer. He let out a little sigh and reached over to tap the outside of your thigh. 

“Angel, come on.”

You sniffled and you trembled as you took in a couple quick breaths. Syverson furrowed his brows together. Were you crying?

He reached up to take ahold of the pillow and tried to tug it away gently, but you had a firm grip on it. 

“No.” Your voice was shaky. You were crying. 

“Y/N, why are you cryin’?”

“No.” 

Syverson’s eyes glided over you for a few moments, debating on what to do.

“Angel, I can’t do anything for ya if your face is stuffed in that pillow and your voice is all muffled. When you’re ready, I’ll be sittin’ here and we can talk. Okay?”

A few minutes passed before your grip on the pillow loosened and you pulled it away from your face. Your eyes were red and glossy and tears trailed down your cheeks. You sat up and folded your legs so you were sitting criss-cross. 

“Why are you cryin’?” He asked softly. 

You shrugged your shoulders. 

“‘Cause I ruined our night.” You rubbed your nose on the back of your hand. “We both have three day weekends and-and that’s so hard to come by. We’re usually so busy with work. If I would’ve just…. If I would’ve just put in more effort and tried harder…. We wouldn’t have to sit here and do this. We could be watching a movie or literally be doing anything else.”

“Angel, you didn’t ruin a damn thing.” Syverson assured you. “Yes, we had plans. But plans fall through. It happens. It’s okay. Look at how many times we’ve made plans and my work has changed them.”

“That’s different, Sy.” You muttered, picking at your nails. 

“No, it ain’t. You’re tryin’ your hardest to get an education, Y/N. And you are doin’ a damn good job at it. You’re just too hard on yourself.”

You rubbed your hands together, unable to bring yourself to meet his gaze. 

“You aren’t…. You’re not mad at me?”

Syverson frowned. 

“Angel, come here.”

You looked up at him through your lashes, catching a glimpse of his blue eyes. You wiped your cheeks before clambering across the bed and getting into his lap. 

His arms wrapped around you, rubbing your back. He kissed your head. 

“I ain’t mad at you, silly girl. The only reason I got after you for not studyin’ is ‘cause I want you to be successful. I want you goin’ places. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“M’not crying because of you. Just…. Just upset ‘cause I don’t want to do this.” You tucked your head into the front of his neck.

“I know. But I’m just askin’ for an hour, angel. Just one. Then I can run you a bath and maybe even rub your back if you want. Does that sound like a deal?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” He kissed your hair once more, slipping his hand underneath the shirt of his you wore so that he could rub the small of your back for a few moments. “Go wash those tears off your face, then come right back here. We got work to do.”

You climbed out of his lap, sighing heavily. 

As your feet touched the floor, Syverson gave your ass a nice smack. You squeaked, turning to look at him. A wide grin was spread across his lips. 

“Go on, angel.” He encouraged, leaning back on the pillows. 

“You know, we could just forget about the studying. I did have other plans for tonight too.” You put one hand on your hip, using the pose to pull up the oversized shirt you wore to reveal your lacy panties. They were dark red, Sy’s favorite color on you.

The grin left his lips as his eyes darkened at the sight of you standing in those panties with one of his black Metallica shirts. 

“Woman, I ain’t gonna tell you again. We’re doin’ your homework first.”

You groaned and stomped to the bathroom. 

***

A few minutes later, you returned to the bedroom. Sy was flipping through the index cards, trying to get a feel for what the words were that you had to learn. He glanced up at you for a moment and his eyes widened. 

You no longer wore his shirt. Instead, you were in a silky nightgown that matched your red panties. The nightgown loosely hugged your curve and showed off your cleavage.

“Angel.” He said your petname as if he was warning you. 

“What?” You feigned innocence, tilting your head to the side as you looked at him. 

“Where’d the shirt go?”

“I was hot.” You explained as you climbed on to the bed, not shying away from swaying your hips a little more than necessary. Anything to get out of school working, right?

He grumbled under his breath, blue eyes flickering back down to the index cards in his hands.

You settled with sitting right beside him, your bare thigh brushing up against his. He was in jeans- thank goodness. If he had changed into something more comfortable, he risked being able to feel you better. And you needed to do this. You didn’t need distractions or to be a distraction to yourself. 

“Have you, uh, Have you had a chance to look over the words at all?”

“A little.” You nodded. “Earlier.”

“How well do you think you know them?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” You hummed softly, placing your hand on his knee. 

Syverson immediately took your hand in his grip and pulled it away. You frowned, hurt by his action. 

“Angel-,”

“Logan-,”

“Y/N.” He said your name firmly. “You know damn well that if I let you start gettin’ handsy with me, we aren’t gonna get very far.”

“I don’t even care about the damn words, Logan! Just pay attention to me!” You whined. You knew you were behaving like an unruly child, but you had spent so long earlier that day trying and trying to study and to do your work that the thought of even looking at another word made you want to rip your hair out. “I-I can’t do it, Logan. I’m-I’m too…. My brain doesn’t work enough for this.”

Your words were quiet and hushed as you dropped your gaze to your lap. He released your hand. You folded your hands together on your thighs, biting your bottom lip nervously as you waited for him to say something. 

“What do ya mean, angel?”

“I-I….” You paused for a moment to think about how you wanted to word your answer. “I read things, but none of it processes. It doesn’t sink into my head. I can’t focus. I can’t do it. It’s so hard and it makes me want to cry but I-I won’t because I don’t want to do that again but I can’t…. It’s so hard, Logan. I just don’t know why it can’t be a little bit easier.”

He stayed quiet in case your brief pause was just you trying to think of what else you wanted to say. 

“And-And I just…. I don’t know. I don’t even want to do it half the time.” You shrugged your shoulders. “The whole ‘go to school’ thing. It’s not…. I don’t know if it’s worth it.”

Syverson nodded softly, looking down at the index cards. 

“Angel, we knew about your ADHD when you decided that you wanted to go to school-,”

“I know, Sy!” You cut him off unintentionally. “I-I know. I just…. I didn’t think it would be this hard. I don’t remember high school being this bad.”

“Things can change. That’s what your doctor said. College brings out a whole bunch of new shit and problems that some people didn’t know they had. But angel, you know I’m here for you.” Syverson reached over to place his hand on yours. “I’m here for you no matter what. Thick and thin. That’s what we agreed to when we took our vows. Remember?”

“I remember.” You nodded, smiling at the memories. 

“That means that if you need a little extra help, don’t hesitate to mention it to me. I’ll change my plans for you in an instant, you know that.”

“But you shouldn’t have to.”

“I want to.” He noticed the way you frowned and the furrow between your brows as you looked down. He hooked one finger beneath your chin and turned your head so you had no choice but to look at him. “You’re a strong woman, Y/N. I’m damn proud to be your husband.”

A smile pulled at the corners of your lips. 

“How about we do thirty minutes today and thirty tomorrow?” He suggested. You nodded, the twisted knot in your stomach dissipating a little. “Every time you get a word right, you can get a kiss. Does that sound good?”

“Yes.” You answered a little too quickly. “And if I get three in a row right, I get a little something extra.”

Syverson chuckled. 

“What did you have in mind?”

“You take off something.”

“Deal.”

Taglist: @whitewolfandthefox @c-a-v-a-l-r-y @wolfyland07 @persephonehemingway @raspberrydreamclouds @onlyhenrys @carriebee1 @ger-bearofrivia @scarlettwitcher @runawayolives @summersong69 @omgkatinka @crazybutconfidentaf @hell1129-blog @harrysthiccthighss @maan24 @mentallyscreamingsincebirth @fl0ating @henrythickcavill  @thanks-bruh-for-nothing @maan2442 @lharrietg @creatingstuffinpeace  @thefirelordm 

If your name is in italics, it wouldn’t let me tag you :(

[hellisheuphoria]

Chapter 1: Recluse.

In which the MC relives the memory of their death every night since it happened, followed by confusion of their feelings towards Belphegor and his brothers- and whether or not they will truly get over their hiraeth.

[I’m on mobile, so I apologise for weird formatting. Also, this chapter itself contains scenes depicting violence and trauma, so read at your own risk <3. I’m sorry for any mistakes, and I’ve also written this on my AO3, my username is ‘impendingcorruption’.]

”To think that I’d be saved by a human...!”

Belphegor snickered, a sort of amusement flowing through him at the thought of being rescued by you, a mere human.

He laughed again, practically drowning in his joy. “It really is ironic!” You shifted slightly, uncomfortable in his sudden happiness, which was rather quite suspicious.

He stopped and turned to you, his attention focused on you solely. Revisiting it now, it may have been the look of a predator looking down upon their prey.

”In any event, MC, all I can do is thank you.” He smiled brighter, “Now I can finally achieve what I set out to do!”

Then he opened his arms wide, signalling you for a hug. That very action diminished any flame of suspicion or doubt you had on him- a decision that you would soon come to regret.

Happily enough, you accepted his hug- feeling absolutely content and prideful at the fact that you had managed to let him out of the attic- whether it was really you or not.

He then sighed, his chin on your shoulder. “Ah... this really brings back memories. This feeling...” His body then went rigid slightly, as though he attempted to keep a sort of coldness to him. “I wonder how long it’s been since I’ve touched a human?”

The air shifted dramatically, your brain slowly gearing into fight or flight mode.

”So, MC...”

His attire changed completely. The air turned cold and frosty, replicating the aura coming off of him as he suddenly let go of you, slightly pushing you back- away from him. You cowered slightly at his dramatic change of personality.

His form shifted, horns protruded out of his head and his clothes resembled those of a cow, with a gold horseshoe on his right side and a cow design sporting his left. A tail violently blew behind him, as though he was ready to attack and agitated.

“...How can I express how I’m feeling right now? What can I do?” He looked at you with a look so cold that you swore you would have just froze over.

Then once again, he changed. He switched personalities. He laughed like a madman, like a sociopath- like someone who relished the look of you in fear, cowering and shaking. But he was, he definitely was. You could see it in his eyes, damn it.

And then, you were pinned to the wall, with one of his hands holding you in place by your throat, your toes barely touching the ground. A black, misty sort of aura became oh so visible around him, making itself violently clear to you.

“You humans really are foolish, idiotic, weak creatures, aren’t you?” His head shook in a sort of disapproval, but you could tell he enjoyed it. He loved this feeling of empowerment. The air no longer reached your lungs and you feebly attempted to call for help.

“You’re so stupid that I can’t help but laugh. Don’t blame me for tricking you, blame yourself for falling for it.” His eyes because glassy and glazed over, like he wasn’t there anymore.

His claws dug deeply into your throat that you swore you could feel blood in your damn lungs. He gripped harder, only to throw you into the ground like a piece of trash.

Your head hit first, blood dripped from your forehead and breathing was so hard that you were gasping for it, begging in your mind for somebody to save you from this monster.

Your vision glazed over and tears gushed down your cheeks due to your helplessness and fear. You wanted to call for help, but your throat ached so bad that any attempt to talk felt like molten nails were being scraped down your throat.

You raised your head and feebly attempted to crawl away, but Belphegor clamped his shoe on your back and held you down, then he raised his leg and kicked your back hard enough to the point where he either severely bruised you or fractured your spine.

”If you die, the exchange program will be ruined, and Diavolo’s reputation will be in tatters.”

He didn’t consider you a person with feelings, he only considered you a pawn for him to break and cause havoc against the three realms with.

“I hate humans, you see. I hate them more than anything in the three worlds.”

He propped you up against the wall and kneeled in front of you as you moaned in absolute misery and pain. You swore that he was only a few seconds away from breaking your spine and rendering you unable to move.

He gripped your face tightly, his claws digging into your soft skin and copper dripped down your cheeks, mingling with your tears as you waited for him to put an end to you.

His hand wrapped around your shoulder, then smashed it against the wall as your arm lay limp and paralysed.

With both hands on each side of your face, he continued.

”Hehe, does it hurt? Finding it hard to breathe? I’m sure it must feel very unpleasant.”

He smacked the back of your head on the wall, a horrible feeling of liquid made your hair sticky and a strange shade of red.

“I have to say, seeing a human face twisted in pain like this...” He stared at you, a sadistic smile on his lips.

”...Why, it’s so much fun that I can barely stand it! I... I can’t contain the laughter!”

And with his horrible, amused laugh ringing in your ears, you succumbed to a dreamless sleep.

———————————————————————

You woke up with a start, your chest heaving and your heart felt as though it were in pain. It hurt to breathe and tears gushed out like waterworks. It was surprising you didn’t scream as you woke up.

Sobs barely escaped your lips as your body shook with the intensity of your dream- rather, nightmare. There was barely any light peeking in from your bare window so you assumed it was late into the night, probably midnight.

Tear stains were everywhere on your pillow and your bed was rough and tousled. Your hands shook violently as they touched all the parts you were brutally injured with in your dream.

It still felt as though you were choking, even if you really weren’t. The weight of your emotions made your chest feel heavier than it should have, and you pondered if putting up a facade for your emotions was really possible at this point.

After you came back to life and you found out about your heritage, all did seem right for a while. Belphegor never really did apologise, but back then you let it go for the sake his brothers. They had only just got him back.

But in the back of your mind, you still had a sort of fear of Belphegor brewing in your head. Even if that was a different version of you, you still had those horrible memories.

And a few weeks later, when all had calmed down, the nightmares began. It would all feel so real until you woke up violently and thrashing around, defending yourself from someone that wasn’t there.

Everything had changed, and it hurt. You missed waking up early in the mornings and enjoying breakfast. You missed the happiness and contentment you felt having a life with everyone. With Lucifer too, even though he scared you.

You mourned the loss of your old life, a sort of homesickness becoming ever so stronger in your everyday life.

You hadn’t noticed before, but things were just so much more tiring as of late.

The nightmares had such a toll on you that you just couldn’t wake up on time before. Dark circles positioned themselves under your eyes for what seems like forever. It was bad enough that even Belphegor winced seeing them.

Life felt so much more dreary and not worth it. Breakfast would not stay in your stomach, and you could barely look at Belphegor or even stay in the same room as him.

And yet, nobody noticed or cared. They didn’t care about how you felt from dying at the hands of Belphegor, or how it felt to just watch your other self disappear in Mammon’s arms.

Heck, Beel would probably have no problem with remaining oblivious as long as it meant that he’d have Belphegor back. Everyone seemed like that, too. Lucifer was even getting along with him a bit more than usual.

And you just didn’t have it in your heart to crush that for them. God, no. You loved them way too much.

So you tried to cry as silently as you could, gripping yourself with your head on your knees as you silently cried for the loss of yourself and the misery that became a part of your life from since then. Who were you to ruin that? Certainly not yourself, a mere human. They’d never understand anyway.

Human life spans were only a blip on their radar. They would live for thousands of more years to come, and you would be gone in a matter of decades.

A knock on your door shook you awake from your thoughts.

”Hey, MC? I’m coming in.”

In horror and complete surprise, you lay down on your bed and tried your best to make it look like you were sleeping.

The doorknob turned and a figure came in. Judging by the voice, you recognised him, Belphegor.

Still red eyed, with your nose sniffling and face a mess, you hid as much as you could and pretended to sleep as he came ever so closer to you.

He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder and shook you slightly, “I know you’re not asleep, cut the act.” Your heart lurched as you opened your eyes and could see him standing in front of you.

He was holding his signature pillow, the one with a cow based design on it, and a laptop with a CD.

”MC, if you can’t sleep, do you want to watch a movie with me? I could hear you moving around, even from my room!” He chuckled slightly, a smile on his face. He looked different than how he was from his dream. He looked calmer not, but you were still deathly afraid of him.

Speechless, you shook your head as your body shook from being in such close proximity to him. You didn’t wanna be near him, especially not now.

As cold and as not cold you could be, you replied, ”No, I- I don’t. Please just go, I’m tired.” You could barely push the words out as your voice was raspy and your throat hurt, looking away from him.

His eyes narrowed in observation, “You look like you’ve been crying. Are you okay?” He tried to hold your hand, but then realised just how shaky it was.

”MC, seriously, are you okay?” He tried again, but you snatched your hand away and moved back, as far away from him as you could.

”Just go! Leave me alone!” You sniffled, your eyes darting everywhere but not on him. “I just wanna be alone. I don’t want you here... please.”

He was shocked at your sudden outburst, still standing there in disbelief as he nodded his head and tried to get a better look at you, but all you did was turn away, hiding your face in your hands.

He walked away, still holding his belongings in either hand as he left the room, not speaking a word. He stood outside your door for a second but then walked away. Thank goodness.

But then you realised how awkward it would be when you would have to face him at breakfast tomorrow. And what if he told Beel? Oh no.

You slapped yourself slightly, ashamed of what you had done. You just had to go ahead and ruin it, didn’t you? Now they’ll be asking you if you’re okay, smothering you in affection that you didn’t want.

Scolding yourself, you lay down once more and anxiety built up in your chest as you thought of tomorrow. What if they all start ignoring you because you can’t get along with Belphegor? What if Beel became uncomfortable with you because of Belphegor? What if everyone did?

That would mean that.. that you would have no one. That everyone would leave you behind and you would be forgotten. No friends, no family. And in the devildom, where demons are constantly looking to take your soul, that’s a horrible situation, if you were ever to find yourself in there.

What if you just let them eat you? You wouldn’t be much of a burden or home wrecker as you are now. And they probably wouldn’t even bat an eye. But then again, Lucifer wouldn’t want to have Diavolo’s exchange program ruined. Imagine the atrocity!

The walls felt so much more constricting now, in your room. The air felt hard to breathe and your body refused to listen to you. You were just so... tired from everything.

With a final glance at the time, you closed your eyes. Only a few more hours until you would have school. And that would be all the time you would need to imagine yourself in your original timeline, living a happy life. If only.

The world disappeared, and so did you, clutching onto your dreams as the way out of your own living nightmare.

[kaz11283]

I really like the prompt list you reblogged it’s got some good stuff. What about 37. “Because I love you god damn it!” with Loki if you are still needing inspiration.

37) Because I Love You God Damn It!

~~~~

The Secret Is Out

Characters: the Avengers Bunch, Loki, Thor, Clint

Warnings: Dirty words, slight angst

Summary: after putting your life in the line for a teammate you accidentally let a big secret slip.

Announcements: I will always need insperation and requests! They feed my soul! Haha. I'm not gonna lie. Im skipping back and forth on my requests though. I have a really good story line for one but its just so emotional(thats were Im hoping it goes at least) that I didnt want to write it tonight and put my self in a mood. So instead I guess im goimg with a form of anger? Meh. Anyways... I absolutly love love love everything from you guys! The reblogs, likes, and comments are amazing and I am very greatful for all the love I am getting!!!! 💚💚💚💚💚

Loki Masterlist

~~~~

The fight had been rough but not as rough as you were feeling in the moment. You had gotten serverly hurt and had been in the medbay for about a week now and you had a longer road ahead. There had been an explosion and instead of turning to run away you had ran toward one of your team members that had been to distracted to realize what was going on, you had successfully gotten him shoved out of the way but you had taken the brunt of the blast.

Now you were laying here staring at the celing trying to stay distracted as Bruce and Tony looked at your completely shaddered knee and the burns up your leg. Fingers crossed that they would have good news soon.

"Well as of right now kid your out of commission." Tony said helping you sit back up.

"Meaning?" You pulled one of the pillows down so that you could sit up without being uncomfortable.

"Meaning right now, the way it all looks, your gonna be stuck in the bed until it fully heals and after wards theres really no way to tell if your going to be able to work in the field again." Burce said looking at the xrays again. "And your gonna have to have surgery in order to put all the right pieces back in the right places, but we cant really do that until some of the burns heal or at least start to heal. Its gonna be a long drawn out process unfortunately." He sighed setting the charts back down and walking over to you.

"Fucking hell! You mean I'm gonna be pushing paper work? I might as well go work in a damn office with four white walls and a poster that says 'hang in there, its almost Friday'." You placed your head in your hands.

"Hey! At least our paper work is more exciting than just running numbers." Tony said placing a hand on your back. He had been like a fsther to you, taking you in when you didnt have anywhere else to turn except the streets. Your own family had abandoned you at a young age and you had been leaning toward a dark path until Tony. "Besides with your expertise you dont have to sit behind a desk, your fingers arent blown off, you can still hack into stuff I'm sure."

"Tony we had a deal when I moved in. No hacking but you would train me and I could actually do good. Now look at me."

"I said no hacking the good guys, and if I remember correctly you were the one jumping close to the bomb not away from. I hate to be this way y/n but the only one to blame is yourself on this one."

"He would have been worst off than I am if not killed. I think I did the right thing. Besides you would have done the same thing if you had been closer." You sighed.

"Honey the diffrence with that is I have a supersuit, you wear a skin tight, spandex one peice, that I'm not a fan of." He laughted. Bruce had went to go get you some more pain killers to shoot into your IV.

"Tony if I were you I would shut up. Your starting to sound like you might actually love me, might even say your starting to act like a dad." You laughed pulling him into a hug.

"Shut it kid, cant let the others know I have a soft spot for the hacker orphan kid i took in all those years ago now can I." He said kissing the top of your head. "Do you need anything else before the drugs kick in and you pass out again?"

"Yes, can you please bring me my phone charger, laptop, and that really fluffy blanket that you and Pep got for me for Christmas."

"Dont ask to much of me now."

"I wouldnt be asking if you would just let me stay in my room. I hate it down here. I wanna be were the people are." You were starting to get loopy from whatever Bruce had given you.

"Ok little mermaid, get some rest I'll get your stuff." He laughed walking out the door letting you fall into a restless sleep.

You didnt know how long you hade been asleep but you woke up with a groan trying to sit up so you could atleast stretch your back from laying in one spot for to long. You flopped back down dramatically with a sigh. You could sense someine else in the room with you, you always knew when he was around.

"You dont have to hide in the shadows Loki. Your more than welcome to keep me company, you should know that by now." You smiled as the prince walked over and sat in the chair beside you. You could tell he hadnt been sleeping, his hair was fixed as always but his clothes looked worst for wear. He had on a plain black shirt and a pair of gray sweat pants, both of with had wrinkles in them either from tossing and turning or from not being changed in a few days.

"Whats wrong? And dont pull that 'nothing is wrong dear. I'm absolutly fine.' Bullshit. You look horrible." You reatched out to grab his hand. What you and Loki had was diffrent. You didnt just see his as a friend, he didnt just see you as that either though. You had spent many nights sitting up with the silver tounge man many nights laying on the couch watching movies, reading, talking about each of your pasts. He knew more about you than even Tony did.

"I'm still currently trying to wrap my head around why you pushed me out of the way and took the blow when you had a chance of dying from it. You shouldnt have been so thick headed my dear." He took your hand and raised it to his lips kissing the top of your hand.

"Loki." You sighed rolling your head to look back up at the celing. "You would have been hurt alot wordt than I am now, that blast could have killed you."

"I am a god y/n, that blast wouldnt have caused me nearly as much damage as it did you." His voice raised slightly.

"Thats what you think. You think that because you are "immortal" that you can take anything thats thrown at you. That no one really cares about you, that you wouldnt be missed? So why not try to take a blow from a bomb? My god your so stupid sometimes."

"I know I can. Norns y/n I've jumped into space, been brain washed, tried to take over New York, gotten smashed around by the Hulk. I was raised with Thor, he doesnt really go easy on a person. What I'm saying is I dont understand why you, a mear midguardian, would sacrifice themselves for me. If anything would have happened-"

"Nothing did happen though. I'm fine-"

"You have steel sticking from your leg, theres no telling when or even if you'll be able to walk again, and there are highly server burns that will leave scares. You cannot sit there and tell me that you are fine."

"Your right it does suck that I'm jot gonna be able to pull off shorts or a bikini anymore."

"This isnt a joke y/n. You almost died!" He finally yelled.

"And i would do it a thousand times over if that ment saving your damn ass again!" You shouted back.

"Why though?! Why me y/n? I've done horrible things, killed people! My life is meaningless." Tears had sprang to his eyes as he looked away.

"Because I love you God damn it!" You stopped suddenly your jaw dropping at the admission that you hadnt ment for him to hear. His head jerked back to you.

"What?" Shock was all over his face as he stood to walk closer to you. "What did you just say?"

"Because I love you Loki Odinson. Because if you were to die I dont think I would be able to go on living. Because even if you see all the bad things that you've done I can look pass that amd see all the good that you are doing." You reached up placing a hand on his cheek and wiping away a tear.

"I love you too y/n. I have since the day I met you. The girl that didnt care what anyone said when she spent time with me. The girl that can see through every face i put on. I love you so much darling." He placed his hand on your face and leaning down gently kissing your lips.

It felt like you thought it always should you felt electricity run through your body and the two of you connected. It was like getting a breath after not being able to for so long. He pulled away smiling at you.

"What do we tell the others?" He asked laying on with bed with you being easy with your leg. He placed his arm around your middle and pulled you as close as he could.

"I honestly dont care what we tell them. They can figure it out themseves for all I care." You smiled lacing your fingers with his, you yawned placing your head on his shoulder closing your eyes.

"Sleep now my Dove, I will be here when you wake." He felt your gentle breath slow as you fell asleep, the rhythm you of your breath lulling him into his own sleep.

Tony and Bruce walked in the next morning stopping dead at the sight in front of them. You and Loki were still cuddled on the small bed sleeping peacefully.

"Should we wake them up?" Bruce asked looking at Tony.

"Na, let them sleep. Dont want to let them know that we know." Tony saod grabbing Bruce's arm and turning to walk back out of the door.

~~~~

Tag List:

@kgirardin

@sophlubbwriting

@supbeeches

@high-functioning-lokipath

[spideyssunshine]

Haz with scruff smut idk you can do anything with it (I just saw his Insta and he has scruff )

Experiment | Harrison O.

summary: harrison’s new scruff is turning you on more and more

harrison osterfield x fem!reader

masterlist//taglist

**

Ever since Harrison had announced he was going to keep his scruff for the winter, you’d been excited. You had missed out on his quarntine beard since you quarantined apart, but now that you are back together, it was on. You loved the way it softly scratched your face when he kissed you, or when you rubbed his cheek the way it’d feel on your palm. It was lovely.

One thing that you want to expierment with is him eating you out with it.

“Hazzaaa.” You whined as you opened the door to your shared bedroom.

His eyes were glued to his laptop screen, probably prepping for a self tape. ‘Perfect he’s distracted’ you thought tying the string to your robe in a lose knot.

“Mmm what’s up hon?” he asked, eyes not leaving the screen, a smirk growing on your face.

“I’m in the mood for dessert. Something sweet. What about you?” you nonchalantly asked, as he finally turned his head towards you.

“Yeah that sounds good. Maybe some ice cream or- woah.” His icy blues went wide as you dropped open your robe revealing the new lingerie set you had bought for this special occasion. A dark black lace bra, matched with tiny panties being held together by little bows.

He quickly shut his laptop and started to walk over you. He seductively smiled, making your stomach do summersults and wrapped his broad arms around your waist.

“All this for me love?” He questioned pressing a kiss to your neck, and you felt yourself get wet just from that.

“Well of course darling. With your new scruff and everything I figure we should experiment.” You whispered in his ear, and bit his ear lobe at the end of your sentence making him groan.

He hungrily smashed his lips onto yours, pinning you into the wall as his hands roamed up and down your body. Your hands tugged on his blond curls making him groan once again. He squeezed your boob, making you gasp- an opportunity to slip his tounge in.

“Jump.” He mumbled against your lips, making you jump up for him to catch you and carry you to the bed. It was unnecessary sure, but Harrison loved that feeling of dominance. He pinned your hands above your head and nipped at your neck with his teeth- his scruff making you get jittery inside.

“What do you want me to do darling?” He huskily asked as he rose above you.

“Want you to eat me out. Wanna feel your tounge.” You purred back as he basically growled. He leaned back down to kiss you a couple times before removing his shirt to see his infamous muscles. He unclapsed your bra, and started to trail a line of kisses and hickies stoping at your panties.

He looked up at you, sort of as a ask of consent to which you quickly nodded your head. After all this time, he still asked for your permission. He hooked his teeth onto your panties and wiggled them down your thighs making you moan in anticipation. He took a minute to take in the breath taking sight in front of him, and finally went to work.

He licked a stripe on your soaking wet pussy and you let out a throaty moan. “So wet and ready for me baby.” He said, licking you once again. He inserted his tounge into you, making you yell out his name. He started tounge fucking you at a fast speed, his blond locks tickling the outside of you. Suddenly, he stopped only to place your legs on his shoulder to get a better position.

“F-fuck Haz, feels so good.” you moaned out, as you felt his scruff move side to side on your core. You tugged on his hair as he started to flick his tounge on your clit, and you knew you weren’t going to last.

“Gonna cum all over my face princess? Lemme feel you.” He spoke into you, the vibrations making you scream.

He started to softly bite onto your clit, as you felt the knot come undone in your tummy. Your orgasm hit you like a pile of bricks, rutting your pussy against his face and mercilessly pulling on his hair. He started to lick up and down to help you ride out your orgasm, his scruff definitley getting wet with your juices.

Your breath started to shallow, as he popped back up from inbetween your legs licking his lips. Your juices trickling down on his chin looked so damn hot.

“So I’m guessing you like the scruff eh?”