#probably draw some more side b eventually but wanted to mess with my friend who's crushing on side a

[ukusreticence]

i didnt want to draw legs

[1kook]

ZOOM CALL

⇢ meeting two

jeon jungkook x (f) reader

⇢ series masterlist

summary: Most notably, there’s one group project waiting for you, which leads you to Friday. Sitting at your desk, bright and early, absolutely dreading being assigned to your group. genre: fluff, slice of life, smut (tags tba) warnings: ITS A SLOW BURN OKAY...., sweetheart jk, campus crush jk, college crushes, social distancing, zoom -_-, jk owns a keroppi plush, oc thirsts over his hot bod, jk’s sweet attempts at flirting </3 he’s just 2 cute for his own good ratings: e for everyone <3 wc: 3.7k

notes: this took long bc i wrote one version but it was SO LAME u guys r lucky my friend and editor ( @kigurumu​ 🖤 ) stopped me from posting it. so then i had to reorganize my thoughts n b like girl. the ppl are waiting. get it together. anyway here’s zoom jk 😎

Being grouped with Jeon Jungkook (he/him) for your first class on the first day of your first Zoom semester truly sets the standard.

By no means do your other classes suck; they’re quite enjoyable, more relevant to your area of study. They’re familiar which makes them comfortable, your Zoom meetings filled with faces you’ve seen time and time again the last four years. The material interests you, so you definitely don’t have anything against them or your classmates. 

That being said, no one is prepared for the awkwardness that comes with each and every Zoom meeting. You never thought you’d be embarrassed to turn your mic on— to speak in a class filled with your peers. And the meetings are all like that, filled with uncomfortable silences and endless black screens. 

You wish there was a Jeon Jungkook (he/him) in every class. 

Jungkook’s just got this bubbly aura to him, this magnetic presence that staples itself into the back of your mind with each passing day. No one fills a Zoom call like he does, making every person laugh and smile like him. 

Wednesday rolls around and you find yourself a little disheartened when you don’t get sorted into the same randomized group as him again. Disappointment melts into annoyance when you find out how incompetent your other classmates are, refusing to speak in the small group or just completely clocking out all together. A lot of them didn’t do the reading— the one you stayed up all night doing —and your first partnered assignment of the semester finds you doing it all by yourself. Muted mics, black windows, complete radio silence; you hated it all. 

You find yourself weirdly longing for Jeon Jungkook’s presence, even if he’s only there to talk about some movie he saw last night. No one is as much of a chatterbox as him, can’t even hold a candle to the way he draws everyone in with his mindless conversations. At least he speaks during Breakout Rooms, you think bitterly. 

Anyway, the first week of classes ends and your brain is a frenzied mess. There’s schedules to memorize, professors to impress, assignments to plan out. There’s definitely no time to sit around and fantasize about the curly haired cutie in one of your general classes. The weekend is spent trying to organize your planner, filling in due dates and exam days ahead of time. It’s your last semester and you’re dead set on making it your best one yet. There’s a lot of written work this time around, analyses and research papers that need to be organized. The road ahead is manageable, but you’ll have to work hard to keep it that way for the next five months. 

Most notably, there’s one group project waiting for you, which leads you to Friday. Sitting at your desk, bright and early, absolutely dreading being assigned to your group.

Jungkook is early this time, not like on Monday where he’d been one of the last to filter in, and he’s looking as chirpy as ever. Donning this horrendously hot pink shirt, completely unlike the neutral tones he’d worn during your last two meetings and that decorate his room, and the cutest pair of circle glasses sitting on his nose. He says his regularly scheduled ‘good morning’ to you all and receives a collective response from the rest of the class that not even your professor got. 

Speaking of the professor, you’ve been giving him the stink eye this whole time. Not that he can tell, given the fact he’s probably miles away in his own home while you angrily glare at him through your webcam. It’s this old guy who’s decided to sort you all into semester long groups for the class, which is the absolute worst. These types of groups always go the same way: you make a group chat promising to study together, those plans fall through, and then everyone just leeches off of each other for homework answers. And in most cases, it’s you handing over your homework answers because no one else ever bothers to do anything. Sadly, it’s a routine you’ve had to suffer through many times in your academic career. 

The thought makes you sick. Having to spend another semester being labeled as the bossy, nerdy dictator of the group? Not exactly how you wanted to spend the last few months of college, but there’s nothing you can do. Maybe this time around you’ll just let it be, won’t fight it (and by it, you mean your lazy classmates when they inevitably try to guilt trip you for homework) and simply let it run its course. 

“I’m going to put you guys into Breakout Rooms with your new groups!” your professor claps excitedly, and then you and the rest of your classmates are forced to watch him lean too close to the camera as he begins clicking around to find the preset groups he’s assigned the class. “Remember, guys, this is it for the rest of the semester. So if something isn’t right, let me know by the end of today.” 

Man, this was going to suck, you groan. The syllabus had said that the purpose of these groups was to keep you all connected with your classmates during these trying times, to give you the same opportunities in-person learning would. Frankly, you’re not too worried about making friends with everyone in this large class. Most of them are younger than you anyway, save for Jeon Jungkook (he/him) and a handful of others who are apparently in your year. Befriending lowerclassmen only to have to bid them adieu in a few months seems awfully sad, a little too heartbreaking. You really just want to get a good grade in this class, collect the last of your credits, and put this whole college experience behind you. 

Your thoughts are wrapped up by the pop-up message that appears on screen. 

The host is inviting you to join a Breakout Room: Group 12

You sigh, contemplate dropping this class for all of two seconds, before dutifully accepting the request. Worse comes to worst, you make up some lie to tell your professor that you’re allergic to group work and hope it works. (It won’t.) 

You sit through the mandatory loading screen for a few seconds before being abruptly dumped into your new room, Group 12, or so the message had said. There’s no one else here yet, which isn’t really a surprise. A lot of your classmates are probably like you, scowling at the pop up message every time your professor sends you into small groups before accepting the request. So you chill by yourself, eyes tracing over your own mirrored image. The notes on last night’s reading are neatly laid out before you, your copy of the book off to the side. 

Another beat and then, much to your surprise, Jeon Jungkook (he/him) is appearing in your room. “Oh,” he says, round eyes magnified by the thick lens of his glasses, the glare of the computer’s glow casting a funny shape across the lens that momentarily robs you of his pretty eyes. His pretty pink lips stretch into a smile, upper lip thinning out a bit when he flashes you those perfect teeth. “Hi, __,” he greets politely, bubbly. 

It’s embarrassing how much his presence affects you, your back going ramrod straight in a terrible attempt to compose yourself. “Hi, Jungkook,” you manage to get out, fingers nervously reaching for something, anything, to ground yourself. They land on a pencil. 

Jungkook doesn’t seem even the slightest bit aware of the commotion he causes within you. “I was really nervous for these groups,” he begins rambling right away, lips pushing down into an exaggerated frown as he shivers at the memory. “But I’m glad I got placed with someone hardworking like you!”

Despite how sweet he sounds, you’re not entirely sure if he’s buttering you up just to take advantage of your ‘hardworking’ attitude later down the road or if he’s genuinely being polite. The little information you know about Jungkook wants you to believe it is the latter; he’s very kind, sweet and nice in a way that makes everyone he speaks to feel warm. Still, for all you know this could be some elaborate ruse of his to make you trust him now and then convince you to do all the work for the rest of the semester. 

Tentatively, you ask, “and how would you know that?” You try your best to keep your usual snappiness out of your voice, pose it simply out of curiosity. But everything you say or do feels like a stark contrast to Jungkook and his bubbliness. 

His head tilts cutely to the side, imploring brown eyes looking at you for one hard second. And then, “I read your forum analysis from Wednesday,” he admits, breaking into a smile. Shy and tiny, bashfully looking down at his desk. “I thought your perspective on the piece was really interesting,” he says, lips pursing together as if he’s suddenly too embarrassed to admit such things to you. 

Stunned, all you can manage is one slow nod. “Thank you,” you eventually choke out, trying to ward the heat away from your cheeks as Jungkook sheepishly nods back, cute smile still on his face. 

“Oh, please,” he chuckles, raising his hand to rub at the back of his neck. “Don’t thank me!” 

It is in this exact moment that you are suddenly made aware of two things. 

One: despite his collection of soft sweaters and t-shirts, his bouncy curls and sweet smile, Jeon Jungkook’s body is neither as cute nor as soft as any of his belongings. In fact, Jeon Jungkook’s body is all hard planes and prominent veins. Arms beefy, biceps that bulge beneath the fabric of the short sleeve t-shirt he’s donned today. His shoulders fill out the material nicely, making him look broad and huge, but that’s not even the worst part, because—

—two: Jeon Jungkook is covered in ink. Dark streaks and swirls paint his forearms, curling around his elbow. Every inch of his pale skin is littered with tiny designs. They dance along the back of his hands, over his knuckles, and end at an unidentifiable point beneath the sleeve of his t-shirt. When he tugs at the neckline of his shirt in an effort to readjust it, you hope your eyes are deceiving you and that isn’t a hint of ink by his collarbone. 

Your normal composure seems to slip away at the mere thought. 

It’s Jungkook’s voice that brings you back, a soft timbre that asks, “aren’t we supposed to have someone else in our group?” You flinch as if you’ve been caught ogling him, never mind the fact he’s started mindlessly shuffling some papers around on his desk, not the slightest bit concerned with you. 

“Oh— um, yes. I think,” you stammer, feeling like some creep for ogling your very cute, very sweet classmate. The memory of his inky skin nearly sends a shiver down your spine as you navigate back to the class syllabus. “We’re supposed to have at least three people,” you read off, glancing at the boy on your screen who frowns at the news. 

“Do you think they dropped?” Given it was still only the first week of school, probably. There had been a fewer number of people in the call when it started, you remembered. Jungkook sighs, this rather light sound that ends in a hum. “Well, we can always wait a few minutes just in case.”

So you wait, nervously bouncing your leg up and down. It’s not awkward, or at least, not as awkward as it would be with anyone else. The other week you had silently sat with another classmate in a one-on-one discussion and hadn’t uttered a word for five minutes. It wasn’t because you didn’t care about the class, but because said classmate had been tapping away on their phone the entire time and hadn’t even responded to your simple greeting. That was awkward. 

With Jungkook it’s more weird than awkward. You can tell the silence makes him uncomfortable because he keeps doing these tiny inhales like he’s about to speak, followed by a little head shake where he seemingly stops himself from saying anything at all. He wants to talk, very badly it seems, but holds back for some odd reason. 

He’s scribbling on some sheet of paper, leaning forward to give you a view of the top of his head. From this angle, his shirt hangs forward and a silver necklace falls out from beneath the neckline, thuds against the table. And then your suspicions are nearly confirmed, and oh god, is that a chest piece—

You quickly look away. 

Robbed of his handsome face and feeling like you’ll die if you look at his body any longer, you settle for your newly acquired favorite pastime: inspecting your classmates’ rooms over Zoom. Yes, you’ll admit it is incredibly nosy, but what else can you do? You can only look at your professor for so long until you inevitably grow bored, attention drifting off to your classmates tiny windows. And with no professor in sight, just gorgeous Jeon Jungkook, you quickly begin your examination of his bedroom. 

Jungkook’s room is pretty much the same as you remember it, rather neat and plain. There’s not a lot going on in terms of decoration, which is a little surprising to say the least. Over the course of the week, you’ve watched your classmates’ dormitories and bedrooms gradually change, decorations and tapestries decorating the walls, mountains of pillows added to their beds. It’s only natural that everyone has an innate need to show off who they are now more than ever, and you thought Jungkook would be the same. 

Apparently not. 

Aside from the guitar you had spotted on Monday, his little dorm room remains unchanged. Blank walls, grayscale sheets. The same perfectly fluffed pillows and then—

A tiny Keroppi plush smack dab in the middle of his bed. 

It’s adorable but a little out of place amongst Jungkook’s rather masculine decorations (or lack thereof). A tiny green doll sitting by his pillows, cute striped shirt and ridiculously dopey smile. 

Leaning forward, you unmute yourself and conversationally say, “I love your Keroppi.” 

At the sudden sound of your voice, Jungkook abruptly straightens up, glasses practically at the very tip of his nose. Eyes wide, it takes him a second to process your words before jerkily whipping around to stare at the aforementioned item. “Oh,” he jumps, slowly looking at his screen again, lips pulled into a tight line. “Um… it’s not mi—“

“It’s adorable,” you add, propping your chin in your palm, absolutely endeared with the rosy color that paints his cheeks, fades down the column of his neck. 

He squirms, hurriedly pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He looks like he’ll deny it again, nervously nibbling at his lower lip, before eventually he settles with a sigh. “I won it from a crane machine,” he confesses with a sheepish huff of laughter, rolling backwards to the edge of his bed to snatch it from its spot. 

(Of course he manspreads as he sits, dark jeans hugging his thighs as he rolls back your way. His arm looks so strong, covered in all that ink, you nearly drool.)

“It’s cute, isn’t it?” he says, abandoning his embarrassment as he shakes the little figure around, makes it look like it’s dancing for you. “My mom said it looks like me.”

At that, you laugh. Loud and boisterous because you were definitely not expecting Jungkook to say that, such an odd but weirdly fitting comparison that has you looking at the doll in his hands with renewed interest. And through the pixelated screen, you can see the similarities: Jungkook does have the same smile as Keroppi. 

“Your mom was right,” you agree, wiping a faux tear from the corner of your eye. “Very cute.” 

Jungkook’s got this big goofy smile on, shaking his head in disbelief that you would ever dare agree with his mom. Like he’s genuinely enjoying himself, you think, oddly proud to have evoked that reaction from him. Granted, Jungkook always looks like he’s pretty happy during class, but it feels nice knowing that you were (confirmed) the reason why.  

A little caught up with the bumbling feeling in your chest, you’re not expecting his next words. “Does that mean I’m cute?” he asks, still with that same dopey smile on his face. 

It’s a bold statement you wouldn’t have expected from him, someone who seems content being the world’s friend, but apparently Jeon Jungkook also craves compliments. 

Slowly, you nod. “...yes,” you say, trying to keep the tumultuous emotions inside of you at bay while you grant him this one compliment. Outwardly, you give him what you hope is an obviously feigned look of disbelief, managing to lace it with a little amusement as you shake your head at his inquiry. On the inside, your mind and heart are a thundering racetrack, the roar of the engines and the screams of the crowd enough to momentarily make you lose your senses. “Very cute,” you repeat, hoping he can’t hear the same pounding of your heartbeat in your throat and in your ears as you do. “Like a little frog.” 

Jungkook graces your robotic response with the most boyish laugh, head tossed back as one loud cackle (because, really, there is no other way to describe the sound that tears itself from his throat) escapes him, curls bouncing back from the movement. “Cute like a frog,” he wheezes, seemingly to himself as he shakes his head with a grin, scooting closer to the camera again. “That’s a new one.” 

“You set yourself up for it,” you defend, busying yourself with the papers spread out in front of you before Jungkook can distract you any further. “Anyway!” you announce, neatly lining the papers up. “Our group.”

Jungkook does his best to wipe the glee off his face, but even as he reaches around for his things, it’s still there. “Right,” he agrees, “we have to, um—“ a huff of laughter “—group contract! Or, well, partner project.”

Briefly, you consider calling in your professor to inform him of your missing partner. He had said to let him know by the end of today if something was wrong. But, honestly, you didn’t see a problem with your group the way it was now. While you can only hope he’ll turn out to be as dedicated to his work as you, as it stands now, there weren’t any major red flags surrounding Jungkook’s character. 

Besides, you didn’t mind being with him for the rest of the semester. 

You nod, forcing yourself to ignore the glimmer in his eyes when he looks at you through the screen. “I think it’s safe to say it’ll just be the two of us, which I don’t mind,” you say, glancing at the time on the corner of your screen to see five minutes have passed since you agreed to wait. “Do you?”

On screen, Jungkook profusely shakes his head, curls bouncing all over the place. “Nope,” he hums. “I don’t mind at all,” he reassures you, resting his chin in his palm as he regards you, and then sweetly adds, “it’ll be nice with just us, __.”

Right. 

You gulp, heart fluttering at the dreaminess he exudes through your screen, the soft strand of hair that falls over his forehead, tickles his brow bone when he flashes you another smile.  He was so handsome. Before you say anything silly, you quickly attempt to move on. “But it does make us more of a duo than a group.” 

Jungkook looks away from his screen for the first time in what feels like forever and you finally let your heart rest for a second. “A duo,” he murmurs, shuffling through his papers. “Like Mickey and Minnie?” 

You nearly choke on your spit, coughing to hide the surprise from his rather cute suggestion. He’s not even looking at you, doesn’t even realize the absolute shock he’s thrown you in by comparing the two of you to one of the most famous couples— that’s what they are, a goddamn couple, not a duo! the words mean two completely different things! —in the world. Instead, Jungkook is humming the theme song to Drake & Josh. 

This man was dangerous for your heart. 

After having felt all the emotions in the world in the span of ten seconds, you eventually gather the courage to say, “sure,” and quickly try to move the conversation along. “We just need to, um, make some ground rules and responsibilities for us to follow.” 

Jungkook nods, finally glancing up again, but not at you. He’s glaring at some point behind his computer, brows furrowed together as he begins brainstorming on his own. You try to, really, but his lips pout adorably when he’s deep in thought, and they’re just so pink and look so soft and would feel like—

“Well, we should probably exchange numbers first,” Jungkook says, interrupting your spiraling thoughts with a new topic to spiral over. He tilts his head to the side, brown eyes focused on you. 

“Yes, of course,” you stammer, fumbling for your phone as Jungkook lets out a soft yay at your acceptance of his request. Quickly, he recites his number and you type it in with trembling hands into the number pad, giving him a quick call so he can have your number as well. 

You save him right away, just his name followed by the class you share with him. Not like you know any other Jeon Jungkooks, and if you did, you doubt anyone could ever leave such an impact like this Jeon Jungkook. 

“__, look,” Jungkook calls, that same excitement lacing his already lovely voice, and you raise your head up at the screen again. He’s waving his phone over his camera, so you don’t get to see his face when he says, “It’s a little mouse emoji and a pink bow— just like Minnie!”

Dangerous for your heart and, most likely, the death of you this semester.

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[thirstystarkey]

SUMMER FAMILY GATHERINGS • RAFE CAMERON

Prompt: It is the hottest day at Outer Banks and Y/N’s family has a tradition of gathering with the Cameron’s for a sunday lunch, but this time Y/N wants something more than just dessert.

Warnings: This is is pure filth, can’t help myself but to thirst over Rafe.

“We’re going to be late Y/N!” Y/N hears her mom scream from downstairs which earns her a loud sign. Today was one of the hottest day at Outer Banks and Y/N wasn’t really in the mood for a long lunch that probably would end up lasting the whole day at the Cameron’s house, even if she had Sarah to chat and Rafe to mess with.

“I’m coming!” The girl warned running down the stairs in a purple summer dress who fell short at her thighs, most of the days her mom would talk back at her choice of clothing but since it was boiling outside she let it skip.

The car ride was rather quick and in a few minutes they arrived, greeted by Rose and Wheezie, the younger sister.

“You look beautiful as always!” Rose complemented sweetly. “Sarah is outside and Rafe is in the living room.” She told Y/N.

“Thank you so much Rose, I’ll say hey to them.” Y/N smiled, walking away from the chatting adults.

Y/N made her away silently to the living room, watching Rafe from a far sitting alone looking at his phone, he was wearing his pink salmon polo and white shorts, looking hot like he always did and Y/N caught herself biting her lip and smirking at him, all alone away from their parents gaze.

“Hi, Rafe.” The words came out of her mouth extremely sweetly as she stood up in front of him. Rafe’s eyes left his screen and traced her body from her naked legs up to her face, already looking down at him with a innocent smile. This was one of the only times Y/N was taller than him.

“Look who it is, princess Y/N.” Rafe smiled placing his phone down his pocket. He was teasing her like always, trying to make Y/N crumble and give in. He leaned back into the couch watching her.

“Always so nice, aren’t you..” Y/N gibed also leaning down to him, giving him a nice view of her chest in the process. “I’m gonna say hi to Sarah, see you at the table.” Y/N had a victorious grin on her face when she heard Rafe sigh loudly. She placed a soft kiss on his cheek, dangerously close to his lips before walking away.

Once at the table Y/N debated where she should sit, in front of Rafe or next to him but he quickly decided for her, sitting next to the girl in the purple dress. Sarah was right in front of them as their parents were too.

Everything went smoothly, they talked about adult boring stuff while Rafe, Y/N and Sarah ate silently, that until Rose decided to ask Y/N about future college applications directing all the attention to her, she could feel Rafe’s eyes burning her.

“I don’t know yet. I though about going to New York and start fresh.” Y/N smiled at Rose. “Clean slate.” She looked at Rafe, on porpose.

“Are you trying to run away from something?” He asked mocking her.

“Should I?” Y/N sassed back.

“You should take me with you before I drown him.” Sarah laughed and Y/N thanked god for it.

“Makes two of us!” Wheezie said.

Eventually the conversation took another turn and Y/N relaxed in her chair, talking softly with Sarah about John B and the pogue adventures she was having, thats when Y/N felt a slender touch on her inner thigh that made her choke on her water.

“You ok?” Sarah questioned without knowing the motive her friend choke.

“Y-yes.” Y/N answered quickly.

She knew Rafe was trying to get the best out of her, like he always did. Always teasing each other in public like a cruel sick joke only they understood, but never going any further than a few touched here and there, leaving the other wanting more every time.

Done with it Y/N decided today was the day she would finally win in this secret twisted game Rafe and her played in front of everyone, pretending to drop her napkin she knelt to catch it, making sure Rafe’s eyes were glued on her movements, she made sure he saw how close her breath was to his crotch as she reached for the fabric. The whole thing ended in seconds but to him it kept playing in his head over and over, letting his mind wonder about how’d feel having Y/N suck him off.

“Stop it.” He whispered, his hot breath hiting her skin, as he gripped tightly on her elbow.

“I’m not doing anything.” Y/N looked through her eyelashes at him, playing innocent.

“Fuck you.” Rafe whispered annoyed, feeling his shorts tighten around his painful boner.

“Why don’t you fuck me isntead?” Y/N dared winking, discretely at Rafe.

“N-now?” He asked looking at her and back at their families.

“Do you got something better to do?” Y/N said crossing her arms.

“You know what, I should show Y/N the pictures I took on my trip to New York last year.” Rafe turned to the adults with a slight friendly smile, still squeezing Y/N thigh under the table.

“That’s a good idea, we’ll call you guys back when dessert is served.” Ward agreed and Rafe was fast to get up along with Y/N.

Y/N could feel her arousal already making his presence as Rafe’s strong and eager grip on her arm pulled her into his room. Once safe from everyone’s eyes, in his room the green eyed boy locked his door but did nothing about his open balcony, directly above where his parents and hers talked and finished lunch.

“You love acting like a little slut around people don’t you?” He said griping her cheeks, making Y/N face him.

“You love it, admit it already” Y/N spoke, teasing him.

“Oh baby I fucking love it, I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard.”

And with that he pushed her down his bed, ghosting over her body until Y/N turned him over as he rested his back against the bed frame, she sat in his lap, each leg on each side of his hips, due to the lack of clothes her core was directly placed on top of his growing boner, making Y/N whine silently at the friction he created teasing her, slowly rolling his hips up.

“You know what purple usually means?” Rafe smirked maliciously as he dragged the thin straps of her dress down her shoulders, brushing his lips slightly over her hot skin, almost kissing it. Y/N was impatient moving around her hips trying to get more. “It usually means sexual frustration baby girl.” He teased Y/N to her breaking point, tracing his fingers underneath her dress until he got a strong grip of her ass, leaving his handprints on her skin for sure. “Do I leave you frustrated Y/N?” He asked pulling the girl closer, making her moan in the process, as he whispered against her neck sucking softly underneath her ear lobe.

“Yes Rafe.” The words came out shaky from her mouth. “Please do something, touch me Rafe.” Y/N begged sweetly looking into his eyes. Both full of need and desire.

“Frustrated enough that you touch yourself thinking about me and everything you want me to do you you, all the nastiest dirtiest things you wish happened every time I tease you?” His voice was so low Y/N could feel the vibrations down her spine making her ache for more.

“Fuck, Rafe.” Y/N whined hiding her head in the crook of his neck but Rafe was quick enough to pull her hair back making the young woman look into his eyes. He was loving everything about teasing Y/N.

“I asked you a question, I demand an answer sweetheart.” He order, like he usually did, playing with her, avoiding every place she craved him to touch.

“Yes Rafe, frustrated enough like that.” Y/N admited with a loud moan but Rafe placed his hand over her mouth to silence them.

“As much as I’d love to hear you scream my name you’ll need to be quiet, you wouldn’t want our dear families to hear you scream like a whore for me, now would you?” His words were enough to leave her dripping wet, she nodded slowly. “Good girl.” Rafe winked at her.

He pulled his hand away from her mouth and almost instantly his lips collided harshly with hers, touch fighting for dominance which Rafe quickly won since he had her wrapped around her finger. He got up with Y/N wrapped around his waist and walked clumsy to his desk, get rid of the papers on top of it that ended up flying everywhere.

Y/N purple dress now pooked at her waist left her completely on show for him, her pink lace panties already glistening in the light that came through the white curtains. Rafe knelt in front of her, pulling by her thighs to the edge of the table, her legs spread unable to close them to get some friction to please her made Y/N body shiver.

“Look at you princess, so wet and I barely touched you.” Rafe whispered in a low moan almost to himself, as he dragged carefully her panties down her legs, making sure to keep them in this back pocket. “I’m gonna eat you out and you’ll be the good girl you are and won’t make a noise, got it?” He asked kissing her thighs, surely leaving a trail of hickeys behind.

“Y-yes.” Y/N closed her eyes shut once she felt Rafe index finger touch her, spreading evenly her wetness all over. Her natural instinct was to moan but she knew she couldn’t so she bit her lip and griped the desk beneath her.

Rafe looked at her as he slowly draw circle figures on her clit, which made her back arch and her hips move forward trying to get more. He got the message and decided to give it to her, slipping in his index finger as he brought his mouth close to her clit, painfully licking it.

Y/N head was spinning with all the pleasure, suddenly the table wasn’t enough to her so she moved her hand down to Rafe’s hair pulling on it as she moved his head closer to her. He moaned on her core due to his hair being pulled, enjoying the sensation. Her eyes full with tears with all the overstimulation opened to look at him, he looked extremely hot and beautiful so much that she whined extremely low at the sight making Rafe add his middle finger inside her, scissoring them inside her getting a nice feel of her hot tight velvety walls. It was enough for her, his fingers brought her over the edge quickly, the pleasure and the stinging pain of being stretched out with the slow movements of his tongue over her swollen clit made Y/N cum hard on his fingers, he felt it, his tight her walls clenched his fingers, it made his cock twist in his shorts.

“Such a good girl.” He breathed over her sensitive pussy, as he licked her clean but Y/N small hand quickly pushed him away. “That sensitive?” Rafe asked cockily, standing up. She nodded watching him.

“I still want your cock though.” She bluntly confessed, not caring anymore about how dirty her words sounded.

“Can you handle it?” He laughed lowly picking her up again. Bringing the both of them to the bed.

“Please Rafe.” Y/N begged over his lips.

That was enough for him. Even if he dreamed of having her pretty lips wrapped around his cock as she choked on it he knew they probably didn’t have enough time for everything so with that Rafe made sure Y/N fell into his bed on her knees, he parted her legs easily and undid his belt, dropping his boxers along with his shorts down his ankles. He bit his lip so hard he thought it would bleed with the sight of having Y/N so vulnerable and needy in front of him. She looked to hot to him like his, he wanted to photograph the image forever in his memory. His cock slowly teasing her entrance with the tip made Y/N grip down on the sheets. He slipped inside her so easily it made him moan low at the feeling. Y/N arms became limp but before she fell more Rafe pulled her back against his chest, holding her up against him with one arm around her shoulders, her hot breath hitting his jawline along with how tight her pussy was clenching his cock made Rafe want to scream dirty profanities.

“Can I move?” He asked in a more sweet voice, making sure she wasn’t in pain.

“Yes.” Her voice was so raspy and low that if Rafe wasn’t so close to her he wouldn’t be able to hear her.

“Fuck princess, you’re taking me so well.” He praised her grinding his hips against hers, Y/N could feel him so deep inside her it should be a sin. “You feel so fucking good.”

“Fuck, f-fuck m-me please.” Y/N threw her head over his shoulder closing her eyes as his arm moved close to her throat.

“I’ve waited so long to hear those words leave your pretty mouth.” His voice drove shivers down her spine driving her closer and closer to her second orgasm.

Rafe’s right hand snaked down her body, giving some attention to her covered breasts before he moved them lower to her painfully sensite clit, moving his calloused digits against the bundle of nerves.

“I’m so close.” Y/N said feeling her whole body shake.

“Wait for me.” Rafe whimpered snapping his hips harshly against hers. The loud laughter from outside covering most of the sounds.

“I can’t, please-” She was so lost in his touch she couldn’t finish a coherent phrase.

“You won’t cum unless I say so fucking brat” Rafe’s words along with his cock inside her applying enough pressure against her g-spot made Y/N tighten around his thick shaft.

“Please daddy.” It slipped out of her mouth so easily and naturally that Rafe almost came. It changed everything.

“Yeah, you want daddy to let you cum, beg like the little whore you are then.” He said directly her ear, tighting his arm around her throat.

“Please let me cum daddy, I’ve been so good to you, please daddy, fuck, let me cum. I need it so bad.” Even if her words were dirty it came out of her mouth so sweet Rafe swore he could melt.

“Fuck I’m not wearing a condom.” He remembered all of a sudden. But he couldn’t pull out.

“It’s okay, I’m on the pill.” Y/N reassured him, gripping on his arm. “Please daddy.” She turned her face to look at him.

He kissed her trying to keep both of them quiet at he came undone inside her, filling her with his hot creamy load. Y/N’s shook as she came around his cock. Rafe stayed inside her for a few minutes grinding ever so slowly riding both of their highs before pulling out and dressing back his boxers along with his white shorts.

They both fell into the bed, to tired to even move. Rafe pulled her dress back into place as he moved her leg over his waist cuddling her. His lips found their way back to hers, getting lost in a passionate long open mouthed kiss. His hands pulled her close to his body keeping her there while her hands kept playing with his messy hair. The whole room smelled like them, expensive cologne with mint and sex.

A loud knock on the door got their attention, it was Rafe’s dad warning them about the dessert like he said he would.

“Dessert’s served guys, we’re waiting come on!” He said on the other said of the door making Y/N’s cheeks heat up.

“We’ll go down in a moment. Thanks dad!” Rafe said loud enough for his dad to hear and Y/N hid her head on his neck.

He kissed her on more time before getting up, pulling her up as well. Quickly fixing his messy hair.

“You have something that’s mine.” Y/N said, referring to the panties he kept on his back pocket.

“I do and I’ll keep them until I please babe.” He winked at Y/N.

Once they were back on the table Y/N felt hot and bothered again when Rafe’s slender touch began to tease her again, brushing over her arms and her back or even the inside of her thighs, tracing the hickeys he left on her skin as he talked to her father. She felt so dirty with their secret yet so powerful.

“So, did you liked to pictures?” Rose asked innocently bitting into her cake slice.

“Y-yes, very lovely.” Y/N smiled.

“Oh Rose, you have no idea how much she enjoyed my stories. I might even take her with me next time.” Rafe said looking at Y/N with a dangerously beautiful smile.

[hoseokmylovesworld]

Sway Me More | Mafia!Jungkook (M)

Pairing: Mafia!Jungkook x Assassin!OC  

Part 2: Sway With Me (M) / Part 3: Sway Me Smooth 

Requested: Anonymous:

“ ok i think i got something. i was thinking e2l mafia leader!jk and assassin!oc. they're always competing on killing the same enemies and oc beats kook to it everytime but plot twist he's actually sleeping w oc in secret, his gang doesn't know that she basically does the dirty work for him. maybe a scene where jk is busy in his office and feels something is off and he and oc pull guns on one another but its just a form of power play bc that's their relationship. dirty talk, oral male receiving, reverse cowgirl in his office chair, choking, little bit of degradation bc one of the victims oc had to seduce but kook calls her his little slut bc he's possessive like that and they both just have lots of tattoos and piercings. maybe some light bondage too? he ties her hands and the petname sweetness? i love that shit sm. ok i'm out of ur hair now fksks ”

Genre: Mafia!Jungkook, BTS mafia au, Smut, humor, e2l, angst, pining.

Length: 15,664k Words

Warnings: Strong language, lots of violence, minor deaths, guns, oral sex (male receiving), fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, squirting, overstimulation, orgasm denial, dirty talk, BDSM(?), degradation kink, praise kink, light bondage, choking, breath play, spanking, rough sex (if you couldn’t tell), possessive!jungkook, Mr. and Mrs. Smith vibes.

A/N:

1. Not sure if this counts as a Song Fic, but this ask immediately made me think of Sway With Me by Saweetie and GALAXARA hence the title so that was on repeat haha (Stream Birds of Prey: The Album and Stay Gold for clear skin!!).

2. I didn’t mean to make the OC that crazy she just kinda was. Like honestly I don’t know what happened at the end there. Also, I thought it would be a fun dynamic for them to only refer to each other by last names. (Y/L/N)

3. Shouts out to this anon for being so specific! Writing this fic ruined my search history.

3.b You said a little bit of degradation, but I mighta over did it lol.

4. This is really fucking long. For no reason...I’m not sorry, it’s all worth it in the end. Please leave a comment, let me know what you think

Jungkook sat in the back seat of his black town car parked at the street corner, his eyes never leaving a specific window of the skyscraper adjacent to him. He watched as the piece of shit who meddled with his gang’s last drug deal canoodled with his lady friend in his apartment. Probably a hooker, he thought. This particular criminal to land on the mafia’s hit list, has been known to bring home many a sex worker. 

He took a look at his Rolex and sighed; the man as slowly, but surely losing patience. They’ve been here for a good hour. A hit has never taken this long to complete for Jungkook’s team. He communicated his frustrations to his sniper, Taehyung, who was camped out in the building directly across from the apartments. 

“When the fuck is this bitch gonna leave?” He grumbled through his earwig to his employee and friend. Taehyung laughs tiredly. 

“Yeah, I’m asking myself the same thing. They’re not even fucking, they’ve been talking and kissing for like thirty minutes.” The sniper griped.

Jungkook chuckled, hearing the response in his ear. “Just stay sharp. Or you’re back on cockfight duty.”

Taehyung paused. “You wouldn’t.” 

“Just focus, yeah?” Jungkook said, refocusing his binoculars to check on the couple in the apartment so that he could see them clearly. The bright lights in the room and the lack of curtains or shades helped him out immensely with that.

“Sure thing, boss.” 

Jungkook could barely craft a response due to the shock that took over him at what happened next. He watched as the female sitting to the left of the target with her legs draped over his thighs, pulled a knife, seemingly out of her crotch, and stabbed the white collar criminal in the gut at lightning speed. 

He lurched up in pain and grabbed at the knife only for his date to pull it out and stab him again, making deep eye contact all the while. She was obviously a strong woman to overpower a man of his burley stature. But why would she want to?                                                                                                                                                        

“What the fuck was that?” Jungkook asked immediately, continuing to watch the scene unfold carefully.

“Looks like his date just stabbed him.” Taehyung responded, just as confused as his superior. 

“I can fucking see that, but why the fuck would the hooker kill him?” He raised his voice in annoyance. The murderous hooker finished the job, wiping her fingerprints off of the knife still lodged in the target's stomach and travelled to  a nearby closet. 

Jungkook watched, overcome with awe and confusion, as she returned with a duffle bag. And his jaw literally drops when he sees her pull white coveralls out of the duffle bag, put them on over her clothes and switch off the lights in the apartment, completely blocking Jungkook’s view.

“Fuck, what’s she doing now, Taehyung?” He asked quickly, knowing that the scope on his sniper had night vision. 

“She’s...cleaning the apartment...and the body.” 

So she’s done this before, Jungkook thought pensively.

“Do you recognize her?” He uttered, needing to know more about this woman  immediately.

“Hell no, I would remember this bitch.” The gunman responds instantly.  

“What the fuck is going on?” His boss muttered to himself and Taehyung took the liberty of answering him. 

“She’s leaving.” 

Jungkook cocked his head back in surprise. “Well that was fast.” 

 “You’re telling me...she’s making her way to the street. You want us to go after her?” 

He thinks about it. No harm done, he figured.

“No, leave her be. Less mess for us.” 

“Roger that.” Taehyung nodded and packed his things. Jungkook ordered his driver to take him home and they called it a very eventful day. 

What Jungkook didn’t count on was encountering that same perpetrator again...and again. Ever since he came across this deadly woman the first time, it’s like he can’t escape her now. “The Hooker”, as the mafia were calling her, had killed three more of the names on their hit list of people who had crossed them...directly before Jungkook’s men got the chance to do it themselves. 

And the fact that it didn’t affect the gang took a backseat to the amount of irritation it brought them and Jungkook for their victim to drop dead in front of them at the hands of someone else. It angered Jungkook because he didn’t know who she was or her motives. She was obviously dangerous and stealthy and could be coming for them next for all they knew. He knew he had to catch her and find out what she was about. 

“Alright, guys. You know what to do.” Jungkook huffed to his men through his earpiece as they prepared to ambush a traitor of the gang. He had been on the run recently, selling mafia secrets and tonight the gang would put an end to him and soon, everyone he blabbed to. 

After three days of following leads, they took to tracking and set out after him. Jungkook and his members followed the conspirator from a distance and three different sides in an attempt to corner him in the ominous dark of the night. They were closing in on the ex-gang member consistently and it all seemed to come to fruition when he shuffled into a dark alley. 

This is too easy, the mafia boss thought enthusiastically to himself. Jungkook and six of his men sped up in pursuit, hoping to trap the imbecile before he realized he was a dead end. Finally, the group turned into the alley quickly, expecting to find a young man ready to shit his pants. Instead they found his slumped over corpse that had been propped up against a dumpster. 

Jungkook’s spine straightened in astonishment. They literally just saw him walk into the alley and he just drops dead? Each of the men look around for who could have done this in possibly two minutes flat. The leader draws his gaze to the roof directly in front of him and grinds his teeth in anger at the sight in front of him. The Hooker from weeks ago stood above them with an amused smirk on her face in a black, hooded catsuit. 

“You gotta be fucking kidding me!” He roared.

“Would you clean that up for me? Thanks.” She deflected playfully and took off in the opposite direction, jumping from one rooftop to another.

“Get her.” Jungkook said calmly, still looking at the spot where the woman was previously standing. He’s had enough of this nonsense and he would be getting answers.

The gang moves out immediately, splitting up in search of the murderer. Two of them take the firescape closest to them, while the remaining men circle around the buildings to cut her off eventually. In the meantime, Jungkook calms himself down and examines the body.

“How did she even do this?” He pulled a leather glove from his breast pocket and moved the head of the deceased to the right side, looking him over carefully. He promptly noticed bruising around his neck and blood on the crown of his head.

“She choked you out that fast...without making a sound?” He whispered, completely impressed, but absolutely irritated at the same time. He sighed, at a loss and took it upon himself to actually dispose of the body. He waited in the alley with his arms crossed, thinking of how he wanted to interrogate this possible threat. 

His men communicated to him that the woman had seriously injured Jimin and Suga and that Hoseok and Jin would stay with them, but the good news was that they caught her and were on their way back.

“Wonderful.” He sighed sarcastically into his earpiece. 

After thirty long minutes, Namjoon and Taehyung re-entered the alley, this time carrying their new victim by her arms, her hands restrained behind her back with the rope originally meant for the traitor. She struggled against their hold as they made their way in until she laid eyes on Jungkook. 

She straightened slowly and walked with confidence, studying him thoughtfully as they passed the mafia leader and turned her to face him while forcing her to her knees. She winced slightly as her knee caps came in contact with the hard, wet ground.

The three of them watched carefully as the leader paced back and forth leisurely, his gaze focused on the puddles on the ground with his hand picking at nothing in particular on his lip. His train of thought was disrupted when the voice of the woman echoed through the alley.

“You gonna say something?” She scoffed impatiently. Jungkook turned to her slowly, revealing his dark, disapproving facial expression. He didn’t miss the flash of mischief in her eyes when they finally made eye contact.

“You incopacitated two of my men.” He started, continuing to walk back and forth in front of them with his hands behind his back. 

“They were chasing me.” She shrugged.

Jungkook stopped in his tracks at the negligence of her tone. He turned on his heel to face his suspect with a serious face. “Who are you and why do you keep killing my targets?” he demanded, just wanting to get to the point of why they were here. A humored smile broke out across her face.

“Your targets? Someone’s a little full of themselves.” She giggled innocently.

“Tell me and I won’t take a hammer to both your shoulders.” He said smoothly looking deeply into her eyes making sure he got his point across. 

Her cocky smirk dissipates but doesn't completely disappear. 

“You don’t have a hammer.” she muttered to herself, thinking that the mafia leader couldn’t hear her. He just gave her a pointed look, silently telling her to continue. She licks her lips slowly while holding Jungkook’s stormy gaze. 

“I was paid, you asshole.” She muttered.

“By who?” 

“No one you and your goons need to worry about.” He sighed and looked up in frustration. “Why?” 

The woman shook her head furiously. “Are you daft? It’s my job, obviously.” 

Jungkook whipped his head in her direction, his eyes widening slightly and his voice taking on a more agitated tone. 

“You disrespect me one more time and I’m gonna slap that smug smirk off your face.” He warned her harshly.

“Promises, promises.” She sang with that self-satisfied grin that he was having mixed feelings about. 

With that, Jungkook swifty brought his hand up to backhand the assailant and jumped in her direction, but stopped when his hand was halfway to her face. She didn’t move an inch or even blink. She even narrowed her eyes at him playfully. 

He backed away from her, impressed. She may have earned some of Jungkook’s respect that day, but he would never tell a single soul about it. He composed himself, eyeing her carefully. He then enganges her in a more calm conversation.

“Do you know who I am?” 

“Yes.” 

“Does your employer know who I am?” 

“I have multiple. Some do.” She shrugs coolly. 

“What do they—” 

“Look we know you're in charge of the mafia, or whatever, but we don’t care. The people I’ve killed have wronged more than just you and your circus of idiots here and they deserved to die.” She gestured to the two henchmen holding her in place. 

“Besides I did you a favor. Several, actually. I’m a blessing in disguise.” She smiled sweetly.

Jungkook shakes his head in disagreement. “You’re a fucking pain in my ass is what you are.” 

“Oh, what a pleasure. And how do you figure that?” 

“Some mysterious...aggressor taking out a number of important people on the east side. Wouldn’t that alarm you in my position?” He queried with a raised, pierced brow. 

“Mysterious? Mr. Jeon, do you find me attractive?” She leans forward and is yanked back in place by the men flanking her. She held a suddenly sultry and intense light behind her eyes directed at Jungkook. 

He couldn’t deny her beauty; anything with a pulse would be attracted to her. Seeing her up close, he noticed her many piercings along her ears, on her septum and her left brow, just like his. He could see tattoos peeking out from her sleeves and neckline of her suit and he wondered just how much of her body was covered by tattoos. 

He was trying not to let that get in the way of this interrogation and failing miserably with his mind wandering in dangerous directions. It didn’t help that he couldn’t look her in the eye for too long, her gaze was so captivating and somehow held so many emotions that they caused him to lose focus. 

He regarded her thoughtfully for a moment before asking, “What is your name?” 

“Deathstalker.” Wow, Jungkook thought to himself. 

“You wanna tell me your real name?” He offered, nodding at her.

“That’s the only name you're gonna get. And just a heads up, I’m not gonna talk if you torture me.” She says confidently with hooded lids. Is she bored?, the mob boss thought. He began to pace for a few moments, the only sound in the alley coming from his designer shoes squelching against the damp concrete.

“No...no, we’re not gonna hurt you.” Jungkook decided. The two henchmen that were restraining the woman, looked up in shock. Jungkook has injured or killed people for far less than what she’s done in the past hour. 

She tilts her head uncomfortably in the hold of the gang members, to get a good look at the mafia leader’s face. She gasps and beams as if she’s had an epiphany. 

“You like me.” She settled. 

He whips around to face her. “What are you on about?” 

“I thought I was gonna have to seduce you to get you off my back, but it seems you already have a soft spot for me.” She deduced with an appeased grin on her face. 

Jungkook’s breathing deepened. He thought quickly of what he could do to draw the attention away from the truth of her statement. He didn’t know what it was about her, but she was different from any of the other suspicious characters he’s interrogated. And for some reason he didn’t want to hurt her, but he couldn’t be seen as weak in front of his inferiors. 

In a flash, he was directly in front of her, teeth clenched and gripping her face tightly in his strong hand. His fingers pressed roughly into her jaw, her cheeks were forced to scrunch up, obscuring her vision and her mouth was bound to a permanent, painful pout. 

“Stop spewing nonsense, I wouldn’t sleep with you if you were the last woman on earth. You’re too dirty.” He lied gratingly. “I don’t have soft spots for anyone and you would do well to learn that. Come into my sight again and you’ll see what kind of damage I can really do.” He seethed. 

“Hot.” Deathstalker replied through forcibly clenched teeth. Jungkook sighed before flimsily releasing her chin, flinging it to the right causing her to wince. Jungkook inwardly did the same at the sight. 

“Let her go.” The henchmen do as they are told. “Get out of my sight.” She got up off her knees awkwardly with her bound wrists.

“I’m sure you know how to get rid of that yourself.” Jungkook nodded at the rope around her wrists. She nodded back casually and walked passed Jungkook, brushing up against him as she did so. 

“Catch you on the flip side.” She whispered to him before she took off in a run into the night.

Three weeks had passed without a surprise appearance from “Deathstalker” and Jungkook was beginning to think she had actually heeded his warning in the alley. He should be pleased with this fact, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. 

Not only was the thought of her ingrained in his mind, but he was slowly convincing himself that maybe he did appreciate her services even if he wasn’t the one paying for them. His men seem to have gotten lazier with the physical side of organized crime since Jungkook’s encounter with Deathstalker. 

Or perhaps with no one to properly clean up the mess left after a hit, he’s noticing just how sloppy they’ve been. Either way, people are talking and names are traveling through the air like pollution; they can’t go on like this. 

He and his men have been actively searching for the assassin and any information they could find on her. The leader didn’t disclose his true motives to his foot soldiers for fear of looking weak, but he couldn’t have the feds knocking down the doors of his companies and he was desperate. They succeeded in finding her real name, her past hits and the names of some of her employers, but nothing on where she was hiding or how to contact her. 

Jungkook curses himself for not realizing Deathstalker’s worth sooner and tries to calm his rampant mind by chugging his flute of champagne. He looks around, disinterested at the ostentatious group of people at the pompous event he was advised to attend. 

As the head of the leading construction company on the east side and since no one suspected his night job, he showed his face in these environments from time to time. This one happens to be an art auction and Jungkook was regretting it by the minute. 

He quickly snagged one more flute of champagne before taking his seat in the front row for the auction. Half-way through the auction he considers leaving, he hasn’t raised his number card once as none of the pieces appealed to him. His head began to lull back out of pure boredom before he heard an all-too familiar voice above the noise. 

“Two million dollars!” The voice was forthright and attractive, causing every head to turn in it’s direction. 

Jungkook didn’t have to look far as the owner of the voice was sitting in the front row as well, roughly twelve seats away. His eyes widened at his suspicions being proven correct. He stares at her for a few moments, taking in her full appearance since meeting her for the first time in the alley. 

She traded in the black cat suit for a peach colored cocktail dress that hung off of one shoulder and blinding white pumps. She covered up her tattoos with makeup to Jungkook’s dismay, but still showed off her many piercings and her long wavy hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail. That’s a good look, thought Jungkook who spared her one last glance before settling into his seat and devising a plan for how the rest of the night will go. 

The auction finally came to an end and the elites took to day drinking and networking once more. Jungkook blended in with the crowd, but kept a close eye on Deathstalker, waiting to find her away from her companions. He spotted her amongst strangers, nursing a glass of champagne and intently watching the middle aged crooner sing along with the orchestra.

When Marimba Rhythms start to play

Dance with me 

Make me sway

Then he pounced.

He positioned himself behind her and leaned in to speak softly into her ear. “What are you doing here?” 

She didn’t flinch or even react to his words, as if she knew he was there, and just continued to enjoy the music. She never failed to impress him.

“Well, killing all your targets actually counts for something. I’m spending my hard earned money on some fine art.” She smiled after a moment. Jungkook came to stand next to her instead. He took a swig from his drink, the two of them still not making eye contact. “You know it’s not polite to brag.” 

She finally turns to him to show off her expensive outfit. “Does this dress scream humble to you?” 

“No, but it does scream desperate.” He took her in, using it as an excuse to check her out. That cat suit didn’t do her legs justice in his opinion, but this ensemble has his approval. 

“For what?” She demanded, cocking her head to the side. 

“You tell me—” 

“You’re full of shit, Jeon.” The assassin sneered and quickly turned to walk away. Jungkook catches her by the bicep at the last second, attempting to make it look playful and desperately trying to avoid any unwanted attention.

“Wait.” He smoothly but firmly pulled her back to him, guiding her left hand to his shoulder and holding onto her right one before leading her in a slow dance towards the dance floor. He told himself he needed a more discreet position to confide his intentions in her ear again. 

Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore

Hold me close

Sway me more

“I have a proposition for you.” 

She glances up at him, sporting narrowed and curious eyes. “Oh? This should be good. Last time you saw me, you threatened to hammer my limbs in.” She swiftly stomped on his foot, with a tight-lipped, spiteful smile. 

He groaned and gathered himself with closed eyes before getting down to business. “Drop the attitude Y/L/N.” Jungkook grumbled, causing the assassin to freeze, but he made sure to keep them moving. She switches from her normal playful demeanor to a more formidable version of herself and he is almost alarmed by the switch. She leans closer to him to reach his ear and drops her voice to a grave whisper.

“How did you know my last—” 

Jungkook doesn’t back down from her close, menacing form and goes as far as to tease her with a satisfied smirk. “Hate to break it to you, but you’re not the only computer genius in this room okay?”

She only glares off into the distance, clenching her jaw. 

“What?” Jungkook revels in the feeling of having the upper hand on her. “My men may not be able to catch you in action, but they do know their way around a file cabinet.” He shares proudly, biting his lip with joy.

Realizing the leverage he had over her, Y/N made the decision to hear him out. “What the fuck do you want?” She spat before Jungkook spun her and dipped her quickly. And though she was angry, she moved with grace and he couldn’t help, but admire her beauty. 

Like a flower bending in the breeze

Bend with me, sway with ease

“You.” He smirks, already missing her playful personality and hoping to bring it back out. He smiles wider when he succeeds.

She finally cracks a smile and throws her head back, unable to stop herself from laughing. “That’s funny, I thought you wouldn’t fuck me if I were the last woman on earth.” She threw his line back at him effortlessly.

The mob boss hesitates for a split second. “Okay, your memory is impeccable, I get it, but I’m talking about your services.” 

Y/N blinks in bewilderment before forming the words she never thought she would. “You want me to work for you?” He nods evenly.

“I’ve already killed five targets for you, Jeon. What more could you want?” She sputtered, not being able to fathom the request. Jungkook only releases her hand, keeping the other wrapped around her waist and nods to the empty balcony of the ballroom before leading her through it’s floor length glass doors. 

“Trust me, I’m well aware. It was insanely fucking annoying,” He said earnestly, making the assassin giggle. His heart seemed to lurch at the sound, but he ignored the pleasant pang in his chest to continue his proposal. “Until I noticed how well you clean up after yourself. Leaving almost no trace of your involvement at the crime scene.” 

He released Y/N’s waist carefully close to the door of the balcony, peering into the room to see who might be looking at them. They seemed to have a bit of privacy as of right now.

Y/N tilted her head and raised her eyebrows sincerely. “Are you really shocked that the neanderthals you hired aren’t too keen on cleaning up after themselves?” 

 “I’m trying to compliment you.” He sighed looking up.

 “You’re doing a pretty shit job.” She mumbled. He ignores her complaints and carries on. He tucks his hands into his pants pockets and walks towards her.

“My men haven’t been as stealthy as possible as of late and there’s talk that we may have caught the attention of the authorities.” 

“Again, are you surprised?” She overannunicated sassily with her arms crossed.

He marched up to her, towering over her small frame intimidatingly. “Don’t push it, Deathstalker.” He sneered at her. Her snark was beginning to piss him off. Why was he always so hot and cold with her?

“Or what?” She said seductively, suddenly snaking her arm around his torso and pressing herself against him. She gazed up at him, with flirtatious eyes

Jungkook bit the inside of his cheek, gazing back down at the woman coolly. He considers feeding into her words and actions for a second, but figures it’s probably just one of her games so he tosses the idea. “I’m trying to make you an offer here.” He insisted. The mercenary sucks her teeth, lets go and turns to walk away. “Ugh you’re no fun...You couldn’t handle me anyway.”

The one time he tried to be professional. He pulls her back by the arm, forcefully pressing her into the stone wall next to the door of the balcony. He presses himself against her firmly while gripping her small waist with one hand and her chin with the other. 

"Fine,” He challenged. “Is this what you want? You want me to fuck you right here, up against this wall, like a little slut?" He spoke in a low voice so as not to concern the guests inside and the rumble of Jungkook’s voice in his chest made Y/N’s body start to heat up.  

His offer brings a genuine, delighted smile to her face. She tosses the idea around in her head while making heated eye contact with Jungkook. But that would never work, she thought bitterly. Her date would come looking for her soon. Not a good look when you're trying to bag a guy and rob him for his millions. So she decided to tease him instead, It was the perfect opportunity with him being all riled up like this. 

"I knew you liked me…” She let her sultry yet snide words linger, toying with the fabric of his collar. “But that would be unprofessional, Mr. Jeon...seeing as you are now my boss." she uttered softly, still keeping her seductive gaze. Jungkook briefly wonders if she could feel his dick twitch when she said his name like that before refocusing on the situation.

When we dance you have a way with me

Stay with me, sway with me

He took the sudden change of pace and her choice of words as her officially accepting his offer and released his hold on her with a grimace. She walks by him, smoothing down her dress with an unfazed expression and heads to the railing to take in the view, as if she wasn’t just assaulted by one of the most important men in the country. 

“So you’ll do it?” 

She kept her back to him, letting her heavy voice travel over her shoulder casually. “How much will you give me?” 

He joins her side, resting his hands on the railing. “Eight hundred, thousand.” 

She whips her head in his direction, an obviously offended expression on her face. “Do I look like one of your minions?” Y/N inquired. 

“It would be your first job with me, you gotta start somewhere.” He made a gesture with his hand, trying to reason with her.

“I started years ago and I’m good at my job. The best actually…I want a million.” She decided with a hand on her waist. 

Jungkook blinked repeatedly, taken aback. “You want me to give you a million dollars?”

“Yes, or no deal.” She answered quickly before he could even finish the question. The mafioso took a step back and laughed silently in disbelief. 

“You’re infuriating, you know tha—” 

“And you make me wanna vomit.” 

“You’re projecting.” 

“Oh, suck a dick Jeon!” She began marching towards the glass doors into the ballroom before Jungkook caught her by the arm and brought her back to him swiftly. 

“Fine, it’s yours.” He muttered, glaring down at her with frustrated eyes. 

The woman simply winked playfully at him and caressed his face. “I knew you’d come around.” She beamed looking satisfied and walked away only to be yanked back to Jungkook’s chest yet again. This time she grumbled in slight annoyance. He made a note to let up on the pulling. 

“If you cross me, we will kill you.” He said seriously. She only smiled as if he’d made a joke. 

“Unless I beat you to that too.” His face turned angry and he opened his mouth to speak when they heard the glass door open and a voice call toY/N. 

“Oh, Ruby, there you are. Is this guy bothering you?” An older gentleman in a suit and a gold chain spoke in a scraggly voice. Jungkook recognized him as Walter Schillings, a white collar criminal who has been giving Jungkook’s men a hard time and definitely landed himself on their hitist. 

Thankfully, the scum has never actually seen the mafia leader before so they were able to avoid a tricky situation at this crowded event. Though Jungkook had men scattered throughout the building in case anything went down, he never travelled alone. But, wait. Why was he referring to Y/N as Ruby?

The mafia leader had no time to figure it out because he had to explain why he was gripping this innocent looking woman the way he was. He lets go immediately and addresses the man. “We were just having a convers—” 

“No,” Y/N sighs and saunters over to Walter, grabbing his huge hand and having it encompass her small one. 

What the fuck is this? Jungkook thought, his heart suddenly racing. He tried to hide his emotions behind a cold demeanor. 

“Just some loser trying to get my attention.” She glanced back at Jungkook arrogantly, allowing Walter to slide an arm around her waist and kiss the side of her forehead as they re-entered the ballroom. 

Jungkook ground his teeth together at the sight and nearly sprinted to Walter to tear his arm off when he saw his hand reach down and grip Y/N’s ass. It bothered him even more that she hadn’t reacted whatsoever. 

He turned away and braced himself on the railing again, attempting to calm himself. “I hope she slits your goddamn throat, motherfucker.” He grumbled to himself, seething with anger. 

Jungkook spent the next fifteen minutes pouting on the balcony, gripping the railing in anger with a bothersome boner while the rich and famous boozed it up inside. Surprisingly no one had come out to bother him, giving him enough to time think about what he just saw. 

He didn’t know why the sight of Y/N with Walter infuriated him so, but he knew he never wanted to see it again. He wondered how she could flirt with him so heavily and then disregard him completely at the drop of a hat. He just wanted to make her eat her petty words, drive her as crazy as she seemed to be driving him. 

It didn’t help that he had been having fantasies of her for the past few weeks in that catsuit just letting him have his way with her. And here she comes, looking like sex on legs and clouding his judgement after disappearing for three weeks. Just who does she think she is? Jungkook sighed frustratedly at the pitiful turn his night had taken. 

He wished he had a distraction from his thoughts. He wished he could leave this vexatious place, but something was keeping him here and he had a feeling that, that something was a menace in a dress and liked to play mind games. 

Okay, so, the boner that won’t seem to go away may also be responsible for keeping him isolated on this balcony, but he had every intention of taking care of it. He just had to convince Y/N.

He quickly tucked his boner into his waistband and walked back into the ballroom like he never left, eyes peeled for Y/N’s small form among the guests. He sees her enter the restroom from afar and doesn’t think before pursuing her. 

On any other day Jungkook wouldn’t dream of executing what was going on in his head, but Y/N was admittedly the most breathtaking thing he’d ever seen and she caused him to think purely with his dick after their interaction today. 

He doesn’t know how he managed to skip into the women’s restroom without setting off any of the guests, but he considers it a victory when he’s in and locks the door without thinking about it. He turned to find Y/N touching up her make-up at the large mirror above the sinks. 

They make eye contact through the mirror, but they have yet to exchange words. Y/N narrows her eyes questioningly while Jungkook considers the silence and stillness in the room. So far so good. 

Jungkook’s shoes clicked on the tile floor as he took a few steps away from the door. “Where did your date go?” He questioned casually.

Y/N finally pauses touching up her face. “He also went to the bathroom, what are you doing in here?” She answers speedily, watching him intently through the mirror. “We made our deal.” 

“I came to see you…” The woman hums in understanding and starts on her lipstick again, seemingly uninterested. “You getting all dolled up for him?” Jungkook finishes.

“Essentially yes.” There is a pause before Jungkook just comes out with it. 

“So you gonna sleep with him tonight?” 

Deathstalker scoffed. “Of course not. I’m an assassin not a hooker.” 

Jungkook muffles a laugh at the inside joke amongst him and his men when his new ally finally starts to show some interest. “Why do you care anyway?” 

He walks up to her boldly, gripping her waist and pressing against her from behind causing her to put the make-up down and zero in on his face. She continued to watch his eyes when he leaned down to whisper in her ear.

“I just wonder what he would say if I messed up this pretty little face.” He brings his hand up to gently grip her chin, unlike how he did earlier. She smiles slightly, making no attempt to free herself from his grasp. If anything she leans more into his touch.

“Mr. Jeon.” She drawled. “Are you still threatening me?” She bats her eyelashes coyly, knowing exactly what was going on. Jungkook has no idea why that innocent look and the words ‘Mr. Jeon’ falling from her mouth made him hard, but he continually needed more of it. He shuddered lightly at the name and her sweet, sweet voice, barely managing to keep his cool.

“Not in the painful way...unless you like that.” He rasped, brushing her lip with his thumb tenderly. She held back a moan and Jungkook took that as an invitation to take it a step further. 

“Do you want me?” He breathed deeply in her ear, sending chills down her spine.

She licked her lips and smiled her signature seductive smile. Jungkook was no match for both her smile and her beautiful doe-eyes. “Oh, Mr. Jeon, you know my pride won’t let me answer that.” 

“Cut the games Y/L/N. I’ve had enough of your shit today. Do you want me?” He repeats. He fully pressed his body into hers allowing her to feel the need that he had been accumulating out on the balcony, his breathing getting heavier. She returned the gesture, pushing back against him discreetly. 

“I thought we agreed that you would just be my boss.” She said with wide, naive eyes, though Jungkook knew better. 

“Well, then, as your boss I hope you would do as I ask and let me fuck you on this sink.” He let his fingers travel from her chin to her throat and let them wrap around her neck ever so gently, giving her just a taste of what was to come. He felt her swallow thickly and watched the innocent look in her eyes turn to primal lust. “So? You wanna see if I can handle you or not?” He whispered, touching his lips to her ear.

She shivered at the touch and quickly turned around to face him. Jungkook leaned in and they were nose to nose. She wrapped her arms around his neck, but their lips barely brushed when she backed away suddenly. He looked into her stern eyes confusedly. “This means nothing.” She said, making sure they were both on the same page. “I’m aware.” he responded before they both pounced at each other, teeth clacking and tongues swirling.

Y/N moaned in delight when Jungkook gripped the back of her thighs and sat her on the granite sink counter with a quickness. He forced her skirt up to her hips roughly so he could properly grind his crotch against her and she seemed to enjoy the rough handling. He made a note of that. 

His hands were everywhere on her, massaging her breasts, squeezing her hips and ass, eager to finally be living his most recent fantasies. Y/N revelled in the attention with a smile on her face, hands playing freely in his silky hair whilst he kissed along her neck. 

He quickly reached down between Y/N’s legs to find that she wasn’t wearing any underwear. He leans back and their heated gazes meet. “You dirty little slut.” He noted, gruffly. “You like it.” She confidently reassured him. “You’re damn right, I like it.” He mumbled as he attached his lips firmly to hers and applied pressure, rubbing her swollen clit with his fingers. “...Mmm, God, you’re so wet.”

The assassin’s body jerked several times and she moaned into his mouth, grinding further into his touch. She separated from him when she couldn’t take anymore and stared deeply into his eyes. “Please,” she pauses to catch her breath. “Please fuck me, Mr. Jeon.” 

Jungkook unzipped his pants before she could even finish her sentence, preparing a condom that he is thanking God he brought with him today. “I like when you say my name like that.” He whispered against her ear.

“I know, your dick told me. Now, hurry before someone breaks the door down.” Jungkook then slides into her easily. Y/N sighs in ecstasy while Jungkook is stunned into silence at the way she gripped his dick. He starts to move almost immediately, holding her in place as he snaps his hips into her, their lips sloppily tangled all the while. The sound of their moans began to bounce off of the tile walls of the bathroom, both of them throwing any cares they had for being discreet out the window.

Jungkook grunted with excitement and pleasure at the sight in front of him. He was watching her moaning form closely, memorizing every detail of her incase he never got this chance again.

“Fuck yes. Your dick feels so fucking good inside me.” She panted, focused on his wide, intense eyes. “Just keep fucking me like that, Mr. Jeon.” He released a satisfied growl at the name.  

Even though he had only met her weeks ago, Jungkook never would have guessed that Y/N would be the type to beg for anything. But here she was under him, at his mercy just like in his dreams, begging for him. It occurred to him that the Deathstalker he met would never admit to or do any of this, but Y/N seemed to be living for it. The idea excited him so much that he didn’t know up from down and didn’t bother to control any nonsense that spewed from his mouth in response to her. 

“You look like a dirty little slut under me right now. Letting me fuck you in the bathroom while your date’s probably outside waiting or you.” He whispered harshly in her ear, never letting up as he continues to thrust in and out of her swiftly. 

Y/N threw her head back and moaned, feeling nothing but turned on by his comments. “Oh, fuck yes..” She murmured, letting herself be carried away with pleasure. 

“Not wearing any panties for him, letting him touch all over you, ugh...but I’m the one who gets to have this sweet pussy by the end of the night.” He breathed heavily, not taking his eyes off of Y/N’s face that was contorted in pure bliss. “Flirting with both of us all night long, making us want you. You’re such a bad girl.”

“I am, I’m a bad girl.” She whimpered hurriedly. “I need to be punished, Mr. Jeon.” She finished, her words not completely registering in her drunken state, but they resonated with Jungkook all too well. He forced himself to slow his thrusts considerably and focus on his breathing much to Y/N’s dismay.

She leans back into him and rests her forehead on his, running her fingers through his hair and grinding on him desperately. “No, no, no, no, no, no. Why did you stop?” Her low, lusty voice implored. 

Jungkook chuckles lightly. “You’re gonna make me cum sweetheart.” She pulled his hips into her helping him find a new rhythm. “Then by all means, do, Mr. Jeon. I want you to cum inside me.” She purred before kissing him softly. 

That set something off in him causing him to pound into her once more. Y/N was thrown back by the force, unable to hold her upper body up any longer. She rested her elbows on the counter and tilted her head all the way back while Jungkook thrusted away into her. 

He saw her face in the mirror and appreciated that he got the watch the pleasure they were experiencing together until he noticed her eyes were closed. 

He realised he didn’t wanna cum this way. He pulled out of her, ignoring her cries of disapproval, turned her around and roughly bent her over the counter. 

“Oh, baby, you gotta see this.” He rasped before sliding into her again and instantly started fucking into her wildly. Y/N yelped before biting her knuckle in order to keep quiet. “Oh my god, yes, fuck me!”

Jungkook grabbed her ponytail and dragged her up off the counter and into his chest so that he could whisper in her ear. She winced, but let him wrap her hair around his fist and pull harder, the back of her head totally resting on his shoulder. 

She could see him behind her, relentlessly hammering into her greedy body in all his glory. Maybe she misjudged him. The sight turned her on even more, sending another rush of wetness between her thighs. 

“You’d better keep it down princess. Wouldn’t want your date to think his girl was in here getting railed like a slut. Oh, wait.” Y/N wanted to laugh, but Jungkook released her hip to wrap his large hand around the base of her neck and firmly squeezed. 

Her eyes immediately rolled back at the gesture, but she made sure to refocus on the mirror as Jungkook was watching closely. The pressure was building in her core more and more. She was gonna fall over the edge any second now, she was so close.

“Oh m-ffffuck, yes! You’re gonna make me cum, Mr. Jeon.” She whined through clenched teeth, looking into his piercing eyes through the mirror. 

“Then fucking cum for me.” His deep voice grated in her ear. 

“Harder! Choke me harder!” Y/N pleaded as her orgasm crashed right into her. He squeezed tighter at just the right time and with just the right pressure that had Y/N seeing stars and prolonging her high. Jungkook held off his own orgasm, trying not to think about her velvety walls pulsating around him, so that he could watch Y/N fully enjoy hers. And boy was it something to watch. 

Her jaw dropped and stilled as her eyes rolled into her head, but it was the most beautiful thing Jungkook had ever seen. Her body was frozen in a perfect arch as he thrusted away into her and her hand firmly cradled his head so that their cheeks were pressed together. He would hold out for as long as he could as she rode her high completely if only to watch her like this for a little longer.

Eventually she tapped Jungkook's hand causing him to let go of her neck and she collapsed onto the counter breathlessly. “Holy fuck.” She gasped as she braced herself on the granite surface. 

She coughed a bit and caught her breath and then looked up at Jungkook with fucked out, voracious eyes. He never took his eyes off of her and never stopped pumping his dick into her delicious cunt. 

“You gonna cum for your little cock slut, Mr. Jeon?” Y/N croaked, throat sore from being choked. But every word sounded like music to Jungkook’s ears. That look on her face made him wanna blow his load on the spot. “Yeah, baby.” Is all he can offer as his hips break their rhythm without his permission.

“Please, cum inside me.” She moaned out as Jungkook emptied himself into the condom, hips sputtering near the end until they stopped with his dick still deep inside of her. He was in his own head, lost in a post-coital stupor, thinking about how that may have been the best orgasm he’s ever had when Y/N spoke up.

“You can get out of me now.” She said flatly, thrusting Jungkook back into the real world. He murmured an apology and withdrew himself from her, watching her walk casually into one of the stalls without a word or a look in his direction. 

He just stood there with his cock out wondering what the hell just happened. He thought they made a connection. He agreed that it wouldn’t mean anything, but was she really that cold hearted to just ignore him after a passionate experience like that? Well, she is a mercenary, his conscience defended, they’re not meant to be caring. 

As he heard the stall start to open up he quickly turned around, discarded the condom and tucked himself back into his pants. He then watched as she came back out looking more put together than before. 

She washed her hands and began to touch up her appearance again. This time she actually needed it. The foundation on her neck was rubbed off by his fingers, revealing the tattoos that Jungkook missed,  her lipstick was smeared and her high ponytail drooped due to the pulling. Awkward silence took over the spacious restroom. Is she really not going to say anything?

He decided to just come out with it. “What was that?” 

“What are you talking about?” She requested, haphazardly while fixing her hair in the mirror.

“Well, you were just all over me and now you’re acting like I don’t exist.” He said plainly.

“It’s called sex, you don’t fuck like a virgin so I assume you know what I’m talking about. Besides, I’m not acting like anything.” Jungkook had a hard time believing that. He knew what deflecting looked like, had seen it in many interrogations. 

“Then why won't you look at me?” He challenged.

Her eyes widened in annoyance as she reached around to place another bobby pin in her hair. “I’m kinda busy here, Jeon.” 

He couldn’t help, but feel bothered that she dropped the sassy formality of calling him Mr., an indication that she was enjoying his company. “Look, will you just talk to me for a sec—”

She suddenly stops what she’s doing. Her breathing is long and deep before she calms down and begins speaking smoothly with her eyes closed. “Look, Jeon. We don’t know each other and I don't know what you think you know about me or what you made up in your head, but you might as well forget all of that ‘cause it’s not real.” She sighed, continuing to recover her foundation.

“That wasn’t real?” He finally commanded. He hated to admit it, but he was slightly bothered when she didn’t even offer him a glance. “That?” She responded, only interested in her reflection.

“That,” He clarified, gesturing to the counter sternly. “What we just did, what we...said.” He gulped nervously. This wasn’t like him, he didn’t get nervous or have passionate sex with strangers and let it effect him. This is only his second time meeting this woman and he let her get in his head. He’s been asking himself the same question since meeting her in the alley: what makes her so different?

She put down her foundation and just stared at it blankly. “And what part of what we said are you confused about, pray tell.”

“Um, ‘I need to be punished, Mr. Jeon.’” He quoted promptly. 

Honestly the only thing he was confused about was why she was suddenly being so cold to him. All of the words they shared were noteworthy and he wanted her to acknowledge that. The whole experience still shocked Jungkook and he never dreamed it would actually happen. He just brought up a snippet that he thought might get her attention and maybe evoke some emotion finally. He chose wisely.

Her head whipped in his direction. “And you liked it, didn’t you?” She sneered. “Or perhaps we could talk about how you like to call women, sluts, hm?” 

“I thought you liked it,” He tried to get in, but she wasn’t having it.

Jungkook thought her angry face looked nothing like it did five minutes ago or even out on the balcony. She suddenly let out a bitter laugh and Jungkook realized that this woman probably wears many faces. Perhaps to defend herself. Perhaps to survive. Maybe he misjudged her. 

“You know, I didn’t take you for a person who throws things that people say during sex back in their face.” She accused, sporting a dark smile.

“Well, I’m sorry, but I didn’t take you for a...a—”

“A submissive?” She shot, putting an end to his stuttering. He deflated, all signs of anger or disapproval gone from his stance. “Yes.” He copped out, not knowing what else to say. “I just wasn’t expecting that.” 

Y/N visibly calmed down as well, turning back to the mirror and continuing her work. “Are you surprised?” She muttered, raising her eyebrows. 

Jungkook thought for a second before responding, evenly: “No.” Thinking about how much Y/N might have gone through to be so successful as a trained killer, she must have had to be the strongest and smartest person in the room on any given day. There had to be a time where she wanted to take a break, not be the person in charge for once. Jungkook could relate. 

His response made her pause, but she only cleared her throat and continued applying foundation in silence. I can’t leave things like this, Jungkook decided. He just got an actual glimpse into her personality and not the same act she puts on for the rest of the world. He found out that they might even have some things in common. He didn’t want her to shut him out now. It may have been a moment of weakness for both of them, but he wanted to continue this.

“I could, you know, help...punish you, i-if you want.” He spluttered with his hands in his pockets, trying to make himself look as confident as possible since his voice had already betrayed him. 

Y/N stills and turns to him with a confounded expression, but didn’t say anything.

“I mean, unless you already have a…” Jungkook left out the last word for her to hopefully pick up on, suddenly shy about the world of BDSM. 

“No, I don’t.” She rushed out, looking down at the counter and creating an awkward silence between them. “I’ll think about it.” She added genuinely. She looked at him over her shoulder and offered a gentle nod, her expression completely blank. 

Jungkook nods back in acknowledgement. “Okay, then.”

“Now get out of here, I’m sure there are ladies that need this restroom.” She pulled on her signature playful smirk, nearly giving Jungkook whiplash. Many faces indeed.

“Yeah, okay.” He gathered himself and walked towards the door, but turned back when he realized something. “Wait, how do I contact you for the job?”

“I’ll call you, now go.” She said packing up her stuff. 

Jungkook nodded, unlocked the door and quickly darted out of the bathroom. As he sped by he saw Walter down the hall posted in front of the men’s room patiently waiting for his date. Thankfully his head was turned when Jungkook made his way out of there and to the exit. He smirked wickedly, knowing he got away with his ridiculous plan. “Dumbass.”

Two weeks had gone by since the bathroom incident and Jungkook worked tirelessly to distract himself from thoughts of the beautiful assassin to no avail. He realized there was no escaping her. He thought their rendezvous at the auction would help get her out of his system, but it only fueled his addiction for her and now he was trapped in a vicious cycle that he didn’t know if he wanted out of. 

They kept in contact and Deathstalker killed the enemies on Jungkook’s hit list, but this time she was being paid by the mafioso himself unbeknownst to his men. They found themselves in situations much like the first time they ran into Deathstalker more often than not. Only now she had to be more creative as Jungkook’s foot soldiers still thought she was a possible threat.

As Jungkook sat across from Collin Boardly, a corrupt CEO/gang leader, he wondered if this would be one of those situations. Boardly is a fellow criminal that Jungkook was on good terms with until he heard that Boardly’s men have been attacking and blackmailing store owners in his territory. Jungkook insisted that he pay those victims back and restore all damages. He even invited Mr. Boardly to a very private game of poker so that they could properly discuss matters. 

They sat in the dimly lit restaurant owned by one of Jungkook’s close friends with their respective security surrounding them. Boardly felt obligated to bring his men as he offended Jungkook and now he was on his turf. Jungkook’s men insisted on backing him up, but he had a strong feeling that none of that would be necessary. 

They had already made small talk while getting the game started and Jungkook got straight to business. 

“So, I hear you’ve been terrorizing my streets. What’s the story there?” Jungkook inquired calmly. Boardly huffed a nervous laugh at the mention of what his men did. “Personally I think terrorizing might be too strong a word.”

Jungkook’s brows raised and his expression turned serious. “Well, what would you call threatening multiple lives at gunpoint, roughin’ ‘em up and demanding cuts of their earnings then? Business?” He denounced. 

“As usual.” Boardly finished the adage with a large smile. Jungkook only looked at him with the same no nonsense expression and Boardly seemed to regret making the remark.

“Just a joke, Jungkook.” He muttered. “I am sorry that I allowed my guys to do that.” He doubled down. “We simply didn’t know how far your territory reached. We meant no disrespect.”

“I appreciate that.” Jungkook replied, anger stirring inside him as he fought not to rip this man’s head from his shoulders.They continued to play in near silence until Jungkook finally pressed him for answers. 

“So how do you intend to fix what your guys broke?”

Boardly looked up with a lost expression on his face. “Excuse me?” He grumbled.

“There was damage done to these stores, yes?” Jungkook assessed slowly. “And you’ve already collected cuts from some of the owners…” He can see Boardly’s eyes widen slightly in recognition. 

“Oh, you didn’t know I knew that.” The mob boss gathered. “Anyway, I assume you’re ready to pay for that. I was thinking fifty, thousand dollars would cover it.” He suggested calmly. 

Boardly tried to give an excuse, stuttering. “I’m-I don't think you understand—”

“I understood you can afford it, judging by those chips.” Jungkook chided, gesturing to the large bet Boardly made in the center of the poker table. Boardly sighed at a loss. 

“Kook, listen.” The CEO leaned forward, trying to reason with his opponent. “We’re friends. It was an accident, can’t we just forget this happened?”

“No.” Jungkook responded instantly, his arms crossed. “We were...associates, but now you’re just someone who fucked with my community. So are you gonna pay it back or not?” He seethed furiously.

Boardly swallowed and stared at Jungkook for a few moments, wondering how else to bargain with him. He had too much pride to go through with this deal, especially in front of his inferiors.

“No.” He finally answered.

Jungkook sighed disappointedly. The air in the room turned ominous and it was felt by all. Normally, Jungkook would be killing Boardly by now and he could feel all of his men tense behind him, ready to kill if need be, but he was doing things differently today. He just nodded understandingly, before gesturing with his left hand to get Taehyung’s attention.

“Taehyung. Will you get me a glass of water from the kitchen please?” He asked politely without looking at him. He hears his right hand man head to the kitchen and he turns back to the piece of shit in front of him.

“Why, Collin? Is there something wrong with doing right by those you fucked over?” Jungkook questioned, heatedly.

“No, Kook—”

“Don’t call me that.”

Boardly scoffed and continued. “I just don’t think we did anything wrong. We overstepped, we apologized, I think that should be enough.”

“Well, I don’t. So where does that leave us?”

“I’m not paying for shit.” The CEO shrugged. That really pissed Jungkook off. 

“Go to hell, Boardly.” He growled. I’m really gonna enjoy watching you bite it, Jungkook thought sinisterly. 

Taehyung placed the glass of water in front of his boss and made the decision to continue to stand at his side, ready if anything were to happen. 

“Fine.” Boardly responded bitterly. “So are we done here? Or are you gonna give me a hard time?” He asked, nodding at Taehyung for emphasis. Jungkook shook his head nonchalantly. “No, no. We’re done.” with a haunting smirk on his face. The look put Boardly slightly on edge, but he ignored it and stood up to corral his men. 

Jungkook watched him make his way to the door wondering what the fuck was taking so long? He already gave the signal. He started to reach for his own gun to do it himself when he noticed Boardly stop in his tracks and could hear him choking. 

Even Jungkook and his men wore looks of concern. The mafia leader got up to get a better view from where he stood and the others craned their necks behind him still ready to shoot first and ask questions later. 

Boardly’s men tried to help him as he clutched his throat, but it was no use as he convulsed and fell to the floor before ceasing to move altogether. They looked at each other for answers before turning to Jungkook. 

One of the guys who was wearing a blue suit, which Jungkook assumed to be Boardly’s right hand, pulled out a gun and walked towards him. Taehyung and Jungkook pulled theirs as well, causing everyone with a gun to point them at either side. 

“You do this?!” Boardly’s guy raged. “How?” Jungkook argued. “How would I do that to him? He probably had a heart attack or forgot to breathe or some shit.” He surmised, trying to place the blame elsewhere. 

“Bullshit! What did you do?” He demanded.

“Look, I’m sorry for your loss or whatever, but we had nothing to do with this. Now you all gotta do something with him.” He pointed his gun at the dead body briefly. Blue suit breathes heavily with a stumped expression, not wanting to let it go. No one in the room showing any signs of letting up either.

“How about we all put the guns down and you guys can take him home-or wherever. Yeah? Does that work?” Jungkook prompted gently. After a beat, blue suit nodded, looked back at the rest of Boardly’s men and nodded. Jungkook did the same and slowly, but surely the guns came down and were put away. 

Jungkook and his men watched as they dragged the body out of the restaurant and sped away from the large storefront windows. They’re finally able to breathe without stress. “What the fuck was that?” Namjoon blurted causing the rest of them to chuckle. 

“I don’t know, but I’m getting the fuck outta here before they come back. See you guys back at base.” They laughed and said their goodbyes. Jungkook walked in the light rain to the next block over and found his town car ready and waiting for him. 

He opened the passenger door, addressed his driver, then retrieved a large black duffle bag before opening the backdoor. There he found Deathstalker sitting cross legged in a black trench coat at the other window seat. He smiled fondly at her. She looked beautiful as always gazing out the window at the rain before she noticed him there. When she turned to face him he replaced the fond smile with a composed smirk. 

“Took you long enough.” She opined quietly once he sat down and closed the door. “We got held up, literally. I think this belongs to you.” He passed the duffle bag off to her. She received her present graciously, beaming down at the contents happily once she opened it. 

“Thank you Mr. Jeon.” Y/N crooned playfully, sporting that signature smirk that never failed to affect Jungkook. “No, thank you.” He responded after clearing his throat. “So you poisoned him?” 

She simply replied, “Yup.” while inspecting the cash that filled the duffle bag in her lap. 

“But he randomly started choking and shaking. And you say you controlled it with the push of a button?” He wondered with furrowed brows and pouted lips. 

“Well, poison, a small nanobot that I planted in his food to attack his lungs and cause internal bleeding, it’s all the same, you know.” She spoke aimlessly, moving on from the money to buff and inspect her manicure.  

“Wow.” Jungkook whispered, genuinely infatuated with the thought of that kind of technology and how he could get his hands on it. While he was lost in thought he didn’t notice Y/N scooching closer to him until they were side by side. He turned to find their noses were nearly touching and his heart rate sped up rapidly.  

“Now that, that’s over…” she drawled, grasping Jungkook’s hand. He watched unquestionably as she brought his hand to her mouth and inserted his middle and ring fingers all while looking into his eyes alluringly. At the same time, she easily brought her leg up to drape over both of Jungkook’s. He still sat frozen in place by her gaze while she lifted the bottom of her coat and placed his hand against her bare heat.

They both shuddered slightly when Jungkook instinctively began to rub circles into her already wet core, never taking their eyes off each other. 

“You wanna go somewhere?” She coaxed breathily. It almost infuriated Jungkook how she didn’t even have to try to get him to agree to anything. He was indeed trapped. 

“James,” He called up to the driver. “The Plaza Hotel please.” 

Currently, Jungkook was going through paperwork in his office, taking advantage of the slow week he’s had to take care of some business for his company. It’s been a while since he’s gotten to do this so he was pretty backed up and seemingly had a whole afternoon of this to look forward to. He sighed at the thought, but continued to read through the documents and sign them here and there when suddenly he felt something was...off. He put his pen down and looked around the room.

The room was silent as usual, but all of a sudden it was too silent? Jungkook didn’t know how and he couldn’t really make sense of it until he looked up at the ceiling vent. It was no longer producing the usual soft hum. There was nothing. He silently walked under the vent to inspect it when he saw a glint in between the slats. Immediately, he moved from under it and drew his gun, aiming it at the vent. 

“I see you motherfucker! Come out right now or I’ll put ten holes in you!” He shouted. The intruder heeded the warning and right away the vent was forced to the floor. Jungkook watched intently as two feminine hands holding a gun slowly dropped down and though it was upside down, it was perfectly aimed at him. 

He still had his gun trained on the vent as the trespasser entered through the hole in the ceiling to reveal the familiar face of Deathstalker herself. Only her upper body could be seen as her strong legs held her in place from inside the vent.

She smiled easily at Jungkook as if they weren’t in a stand-off right now. “Hello, Mr. Jeon.” Her tone was calm, but somewhat guarded, telling him what her face never would. Jungkook was stuck between being relieved to see that it was only Deathstalker and being concerned that she was pointing a gun at him. 

“Hello, Deathstalker. You wanna tell me why you broke into my office and have a gun in my face?” He queried with a tilt of his head. Y/N only reached up to grip the hole in the ceiling, somehow removing herself from the vent with one hand, her gun and her gaze still trained on Jungkook as she landed on her feet in front of him. More contradicting thoughts swirled in his mind at the sight.  

“You finally caught me. I’m proud.” She smirked, removing the hood of her catsuit from her head.

He fights the urge to roll his eyes. “Yeah, maybe you can congratulate me later. Why are you here? You finally turn on me? Did someone send you, huh?” 

“Don’t be so dramatic. You have something I need.” She explained with a determined look. Jungkook’s brows furrowed. “Is that so? And what might that be?” 

“You know what it is.” Y/N quipped, tilting her gun along with the inflection in her voice. He shakes his head assuredly. “No, No, I have no idea what you’re talking about, but if you wanna put the gun down I’d love to discuss it.” He entreated informally. 

“No.” She spoke firmly. A beat of silence passes before Jungkook has had enough. “Put the fucking gun down, Y/L/N.” He demanded gruffly. 

“You put the fucking gun down.” She spat right back at him. 

“I’m not doing this, just tell me what it is—” He reasoned.

“You know what it is—” Before she can fully respond, Jungkook rushed her, forcing her gun away from him and ripping it out of her hand. He quickly backed up and flung the gun across the room before pointing his back at her. They each caught their breath and Y/N bit her lip frustratedly. 

Jungkook gave a triumphant smile. “There, that’s better. You ready to talk now—”

Y/N’s leg swiftly came up to kick the gun right out of Jungkook's hand before he even realized what happened. He looked at the gun sliding away from them on the floor, then back at Deathstalker, who smirked and raised an arrogant brow.

“Okay.” Jungkook uttered right as Y/N charged at him. He panicked slightly at the thought of fighting her, but the instinct to fight back kicked in when she launched herself and wrapped her body around him like an anaconda. 

They struggled while Deathstalker tried to take Jungkook to the floor. Luckily for him, he wasn’t only a skilled shooter, but a trained and very skilled fighter as well. It wasn’t long before he freed himself from her vice grip and they were in a standoff once again, this time with their fist raised and ready to defend. 

“What the hell has gotten into you Y/L/N? I wish you would tell me what this is about.” Jungkook grumbled as they circled each other, waiting for the other to make a move.

Y/N chuckled mischievously. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” 

“Yes, actually!” He exploded. She took his emotional outburst as an opportunity and pounced once again. Jungkook was quicker to react this time and they were practically sparring in the middle of his office and only lord knows why. Jungkook found himself getting irritated because he was barely one step behind Deathstalker in her strikes and attacks. 

As they got more invested, Jungkook noticed that she didn’t intend on hurting him, but she did intend to win. Somewhere in the scuffle, he fell behind and let her right hook distract him from the leg that swept his feet from under him. She was on top of him in an instant, with a habitual flat hand at his jugular ready to stop him from breathing. They stare at each other, both of them breathing heavily. 

“Got you.” Y/N suddenly whispered smugly. “Now, are you gonna give me what I want?” She prompted provocatively, sliding her hand into the collar of his shirt slowly. The feel of her hot skin on his almost burned with their charged up bodies and wild emotions. He blinked in realization at her increasingly turned on form above him. 

“You. Crazy. Fucking. Bitch.” Jungkook fumed quietly, looking up at her in disapproval. She just giggled freely and though usually the sound would bring a smile to Jungkook’s face, it only pissed him off. 

He pushed her off of him and shoved her against the wall roughly, holding her there by the neck. “You’ve got some fucking nerve, breaking in here and waving a gun in my face.” He hissed in anger, their noses touching. “You know, if you wanted dick you could have just said so.” 

“Where’s the fun in that Mr. Jeon?” She crooned, leaning forward to kiss him and he denied her, coolly tilting his head back. He continued to hold her by the throat to the wall firmly, causing her to choke briefly, but if she was uncomfortable she didn’t let it show.

“No.” He shook his head, Y/N could see his gears turning as he did so. “No?” She echoed, curiously. 

“To answer your question. I’m not giving you what you want.” A devious smirk slowly appeared on his face that made Y/N’s body temperature rise. “No, you’re gonna do what I want now and you’re gonna like it.” He breathed, pressing himself against her and brushing her lips with his teasingly. She inhales audibly, trying not to look affected by his sudden behavior. 

“But, Mr. Jeon, I want what you want.” She encouraged him sweetly, reaching for him. He put a stop to that quickly by pinning her wrists above her with one hand and resuming his hold on her neck with the other. She grunted and squirmed before giving up, looking up a childish defeated expression, but Jungkook knew she loved it. 

He looked into her eyes with a strong dominance that had Y’N swallowing thickly in anticipation. “Are you talking back to me, Y/L/N?” His eyebrows furrowed intimidatingly. 

She bit her lip to suppress her giddy smile. She needed to play along and not mock Jungkook’s very real emotions. The dynamic has officially shifted and now Y/N’s main objective was to please him. “No, Mr. Jeon.” She assured in a register slightly higher than her natural voice. 

“Really, because you seem to have a lot to say for someone who’s at my mercy. I wonder if you’d still be as talkative with my dick in your mouth.” He growled hotly in her ear sending shivers down her spine.

She shuddered a hopeful response. “Can we find out, Mr. Jeon...please?” She implored when she felt him pull away. 

He looked her over, taking in her needy form. “Look at you, already begging for it.” He shook his head in amazement. “I should keep you here and see how long you can hold your breath for me before your face starts to change color.” He whispered while closing his hand tighter around her neck. Y/N hummed delightfully at the feeling, her eyes fluttering shut. 

“But you’d probably like that wouldn’t you?” He leaned back in, getting her attention. She opened her eyes and gave a pleasant smile. “You know that I do.” She choked out. He smiled back at her admirably before releasing most of the pressure on her throat. 

“No, I got something else planned for y—” He stopped abruptly, looking towards the door because he thought he heard the click of familiar shoes in the hall. His theory was proven correct when he heard them getting closer. He quickly looked to Y/N with wide eyes. 

“Get under the desk.” He ordered softly before they both scurry to the huge desk near the window. She easily fit herself under it on her knees facing out and Jungkook took the seat right in front of her. As soon as they were situated, there was a knock on his office door.

“Come in.” He called pretending to look over his files. Taehyung poked his head in with a concerned expression before he fully entered the room. “Hey boss. Everything okay here?” He questioned.

“Yes, fine. Why?”

“Nothing, we just thought we heard some...I don’t know, movement?” As Taehyung spoke, Jungkook could feel hands raking up his thighs and his eyes widened quickly. He tried to compose his expression, but he then felt the unbuttoning of his pants. 

No, no, no, no, he thought in a panic. He tries not to focus on just how Y/N got his zipper down as silently as she did and focuses on Taehyung’s lips as he talked. 

“Oh, no, yeah. That was just me. I was practicing...sh-shadow boxing.” He lied choppily as Y/N released his already hard dick from his pants. 

“In a suit?” Taehyung replied, confusedly. 

Jungkook jolted slightly and fought back a moan when the assassin took him in her warm, wet mouth. “Waauuuhh, yes. Yes, I was.” He cleared his throat to cover up more moans when she began to skillfully bob her head up and down on his length. 

“Oh, well okay.” Taehyung settled. “So if that’s all—” Jungkook attempted to see him off with no success. 

“Anyway, we got a lead on that Deathwalker chick.” He offered in a more chipper tone. Y/N paused her movements, intrigued by the information. What had they found out? Jungkook shamelessly rested his hand on the back of her head and pulled, encouraging her to keep going much to both of their disbelief. She obeys and continues the task eagerly, but careful not to have too much fun or she’ll risk getting caught. “Is that so?” the mob boss replied. 

“Yeah, it’s not much, but we assumed you wanted us to brief you on it as soon as possible.” His soldier nodded respectfully. 

“Ugh,” Jungkook moaned, half-way masking it as a noise of gratitude. “Thank you, Tae. I appreciate it. We’ll be sure to discuss thisssssss later.” He faltered. “Yes, sir.” Taehyung nodded again, making a face at Jungkook. 

“Hey, you okay boss?” He looked closer at his superior with genuine concern. “Never better Tae.” Jungkook forced out quickly. “Are you sure? Y—”

“Taehyung?” The gang leader addressed him firmly. “Yes?” 

“Get the fuck out of my office.” 

“Yes, sir.” Taehyung nodded, knowing when he was unwanted and without another word he was exiting the office. 

Jungkook pushed away from the desk immediately and grabbed a handful of Y/N’s hair as he stood both of them up. She only smiled at the manhandling and wiped the excess spit from her mouth. 

“You really want me to hurt you, don’t you?” He snarled at her. She fought back the strong urge to moan a yes and instead just stayed silent with a feigned guilty look on her face. “Take that off. Now. ” He commanded, gesturing to her catsuit. She shimmied it off of her arms and down her legs to reveal her naked body, leaving her heels on, all while Jungkook kept a tight grip on her hair. 

“How many do you think I should give you?” He asked, suddenly calmer than before. “How ever many you think is right sir.” She spoke in a small voice, but her innocent act didn’t fool him. He stared at her bare, unapologetically, beautiful body in wonderment before forcing her body to bend over his desk. 

He caressed her thighs and backside tenderly and then when she least expected it he delivered a delicious slap to it. Y/N yelped and then sighed with contentment. The wait was over, now the real fun could begin. 

“I told you.” Slap. “We weren't.” Slap. “Gonna do.” Slap. “What you wanted.” Slap. “To do.” Slap. “But you just don’t listen.” He accentuated his words with powerful smacks delivered to both of her cheeks and then rubbed at the tender flesh to soothe the sting. 

He ran his finger up her spine gently, making her shiver visibly. He smirked at his effect on her, bending his body over hers to whisper in her ear. “Tell me. Are you sorry?” He breathed heavily. 

“No, sir.” Y/N panted after a few moments. “I knew it…” He stands up straight, regarding her vulnerable yet durable body. 

“You disappoint me, Y/L/N.” He slaps her ass and massages again. Y/N hissed before replying. “I’ll do better sir.” she declared sincerely.

“You promise?” Jungkook lifts his hand and watches as Y/N braces for the impact, watched as her body tensed and her pussy clenched greedily around nothing in awe. He savored the moment, spanking her again.

She hummed graciously at the delicious pain she was receiving from him. “Yes, sir. I promise.”  

“But you’re not sorry.” He clarified. “No sir.” 

“Why?” His brows furrowed in curiosity, gearing up to spank her again. “Because I love sucking your cock sir.” Y/N whined. He stopped his movements, taken aback and released a soft laugh. “Is that so?” 

“Yes sir.” Slap. “Tell me more Y/L/N.” he requested as he moved his left hand to her cunt and kept the right one on her ass. 

She closed her eyes and smiled, envisioning herself doing the activity, even licking her lips at the luscious memory of it. “I love how heavy it feels on my tongue. How you force me down on it and it hits the back of my throat.” She mused longingly. Y/N stops speaking and her body tenses as he inserts his thumb into her. 

“Keep going Y/L/N.” Jungkook’s tone made it clear that he would stop if she didn’t keep talking so she continued. 

“I love how thick it is, oh fuck.” She moans, digging her nails into the wood of the desk as he rubs two fingers against her clit and picks up the pace. “What else Y/L/N?” He breathed.  

She gulped in a breath, the sudden pressure taking her breath away. “How you make me gag on it when I’ve been bad and— mmmm, how you coat the inside of my mouth with all your cum when you’re done with me...How you check to make sure I swallowed all of it.” She giggled that last bit breathlessly, grinding back on his hand. 

“You’re such a dirty girl Y/L/N.” He moves in and out of her quickly while rubbing her clit perfectly in sync, pulling lewd moans from her until he suddenly removes them, delivering another hard smack to her backside. “Ah, fuck.” She squealed.

“But you’re right, you need to do better. Now count with me.” He ordered sternly. 

To which she immediately responded, “Yes sir.” 

Y/N counts every hit Jungkook delivers to her extremely tender ass dutifully with her fingernails creating crescents in the mahogany wood below her. By the time they reach twenty, his hand is as red as a tomato and Y/N is quite literally dripping onto the floor in front of him. He watched as her slick dripped out of her cunt from in between her spread legs and onto the floor, creating a tiny puddle of her pleasure. 

Jungkook is incredibly turned on by the sight and doesn’t think twice before taking his hard cock and shoving right into the assassin without warning. He didn’t wait for her to adjust, not that she needed to as you could literally mop the floor with her arousal. He just continued to hammer into her with complete abandon. 

It felt as if Y/N had forgotten how to breathe and her head shot up from the desk at the abrupt intrusion. “Ohhhhh shhhhhhit.” She cursed choppily with Jungkook’s hips slapping against her, making her ass sting more, but she loved it. 

He reached up to push her head down against the desk forcefully and held it there as he fucked into her. “You love the pain don’t you my little cock slut?” He growled out.

“Yes, sir. I love it. Thank you, Mr. Jeon.” She babbled dazedly into the desk. 

He pulls out of her then, leaving her moving back in search of him and clenching around nothing. “Please put it back in, Mr. Jeon.” She whimpered, reaching back for him, but she didn’t dare sit up for fear that he might think she was disobeying him.

He smiles and sits down in his chair, grabbing the hands that searched for him and guiding them to it’s arm rests. “Why don’t you come sit down and do it yourself?” 

She moves right away and backs up onto him. Bracing herself on the armrests, she hovers above him still facing the desk, grabs his cock and engulfs it in her wetness. They both groan wildly when he is fully seated inside of her and she begins to move up and down.

“Just like that baby, keep bouncing on my cock.” He muttered huskily, placing his hands on her hips. Looking down, he finally noticed the mess Y/N’s juices made on his suit pants. He should have pulled them all the way down, but damn if that wasn’t one of the hottest things he’s ever seen. “Goddamn. Who made you this fucking wet baby?” He grunted, pulling her down on him with fervid force. 

“You did, Mr. Jeon.” Y/N breathed heavily with her eyes closed in ecstasy. She could feel her orgasm finally approaching and she was chasing it with every move she made.

“You gonna cum baby?” Jungkook’s voice rasped in her ear. Y/N mentally cursed, already knowing what was coming to her. “Yes, I’m so close, Mr. Jeon.” She whined, trying to plead her case. 

It was no use. He swiftly pushed her off of him roughly and forced her down against the table once more. “No, no, no, please, please.” She begged and squirmed.

He only bent down to her level, gripping her chin in his hand. “You should know by now not to fuck with me Y/L/N. Now you need to be punished.” He says whispering sadistically in her ear. “Come on now.”

Jungkook gripped her by her forearms, dragging her up from the table and keeping them in place behind her back like a criminal. He guided her to the expansive wall length bookshelf on the far left of his office. Y/N knew just where they were going and somehow it prompted more wetness to come cascading down her already damp and sticky legs. 

He finds the handle on the inside of one of the shelves and pulls on the hidden door to reveal his playroom. The ceiling was a deep red while the walls were painted black with several tools for causing pain hanging on them all around the room. Several large contraptions used for pleasure and pain were scattered along the sides. But Jungkook’s favorite part of the room was the alaska king size mattress against the back wall which had a mirror of the same size attached to the ceiling above it. He loved that he could see every facet of Y/N’s squirming body just by looking up. 

“Stand here.” He directs her after stopping under the pair of leather handcuffs that dangled from the ceiling. He lifted and secured both her arms before focusing on her wanton eyes. “You comfortable, sweetheart?” He asked, grasping her chin firmly in his hands. 

“Yes, sir.” She replied truthfully. “Good.” He pecked her lips and began removing her boot heels. This created more distance between her and the floor. She was now truly dangling from the ceiling, the balls of her feet barely touching the floor.

Jungkook marvelled at his work and how after a while Y/N struggled to hold her weight against the cuffs. He then undressed quickly and made his way back to her, placing his lips on hers in a rough and passionate kiss that left Y/N breathless and moaning. 

She feels a hand thread it’s fingers through her hair and massage her scalp before it’s yanking her back and gripping tightly. She opened her eyes to see Jungkook, lustful and giddy smiling back at her. His hand slipped out of her hair, down her neck, chest and around her torso as he slowly circled her body. 

“I wish I could touch every piece of you at once.” He expressed sofly once he was behind her. Y/N breathed heavily with anticipation as his large hands gluided up her raised arms, down her waist, over her hips and ghosted over her plump, raw ass making her hiss. He chuckled at the sound letting his hands wander to her front and administering feather light circles to her swollen clit. Y/N twitched causing her body to sway uncontrollably. Jungkook stilled her, but continued his teasing much to Y/N’s dismay. But she didn’t dare say anything about it, she knew better and she wanted to cum so she stayed silent. 

He comes back around to face her and really takes his time appreciating her body. He kisses her lips, along her neck and sucks on her nipples just enough to have her squirming with more want for him. Suddenly he presses down on each of her sensitive nipples with two fingers and she squeaks, painful electricity shooting through her. 

He looked her over keenly. “God you’re so fucking beautiful...and you’re all mine to play with.” He kisses her biting her lip. “Who do you belong to?” His fierce tone demanded an answer.

“You, Mr. Jeon.” Y/N avowed, increasingly turned on and desperate to cum. 

“Who else?” His hands moved haltingly towards her core, never breaking eye contact. Her eyes flashed knowingly at him. “No one. Only you, Mr. Jeon.” 

Jungkook smiled contentedly before it disappeared little by little. He knew the words weren’t true and that she only said them to please him, only said them when they were intimate. But he couldn’t help how much he yearned to hear it, how much he wanted her to truly be his. This room is where they both get what they want no matter what. 

Y/N gets someone to dominate her and take care of her needs and Jungkook gets to live out his fantasies of her truly belonging solely to him. But he knew she would never go for that and that he would continue to toture himself this way. 

He tucks the thought away as he suddenly plunges two fingers inside of her. “And who does this pussy belong to?” He growled.

Y/N immediately clenches around them and lets out a cracked moan. “You, sir! This pussy is all yours. Oh fuck, ugh!” She cried out. At least Jungkook can be sure of that, he thought as he began curling his fingers into her at lightning speed. He holds her hips in place as he goes to work and Y/N can’t even think about the pain in her arms anymore once she feels her orgasm approaching. 

She grunts fervently as the pressure in her core builds and builds until she can’t stand it. She gives no warning, just allowing the glorious, all-consuming feeling to ignite her insides without a single sound. The only noise to be heard in the room was the sloshing of Jungkook’s fingers moving rapidly inside of her and the slap of his palm against her wet mound. 

Jungkook was so enraptured by her eyes rolling back into her head that he didn’t notice the clear liquid escaping from her cunt, getting all over his hand and dripping onto the floor. He brought her drooping head up so he could kiss her eagerly as he removed his fingers and stroked her clit like a wild man, getting more of her juices all over him. 

She never told him to stop as she was struck silent by the amount of pleasure she just experienced, but he removed his hand and continued kissing her writhing body hungrily. She was out of breath as she twitched and mewled against him, audibly shuddering from time to time. 

“Holy fucking shit. You’re just full of surprises huh?” He praised her with her face in his hands. Her only reaction was to smile tiredly. Her body was absolutely spent and still experiencing aftershocks. 

“Now let’s see if we can make you do that again.” he says, lifting her legs to wrap around his waist, thankfully taking the weight off of her arms. 

She finally speaks in a disoriented voice with her eyes half closed. “Yes, please sir.” 

Jungkook pushes inside of her, her cunt was now extremely wet and extremely tight due to that first squirting orgasm and he could tell he wouldn’t last long. He began speedily fucking into her, his hips slapping against her bruised and aching ass over and over again. 

Y/N was in another realm of euphoria, this one being better than the last. She didn’t even know that was possible. Her head was tilted all the way back and her eyes were closed, but they were focused. She was too far gone to even remember her own name at this point. 

“Please…” She mumbled. “Please what?” Jungkook grunted, his vigorous hips never changing pace. 

“Please, please make me cum, Mr. Jeon.” She begged through gritted teeth. “I want it so bad. Please give me your cum.” 

“Oh fuck, baby.” He moaned, thrusting impossibly faster, both of them close to the edge. 

She felt herself growing slightly over stimulated, but she was so close, chasing that high that made her see stars. She was concentrated on the feeling of Jungkook’s dick pumping in and out of her and hitting just the right spot against her walls. Jungkook felt a force resisting him from inside of Y/N and before he could grasp it he was being pushed out along with Y/N’s cum. 

A full fledged scream escaped from her throat that was elongated by Jungkook who swiped at her clit wildly to prolong her orgasm. He watches her twitch and moan helplessly before sliding back in and picking up where he left off.

“No, p-please sir, I can’t.” She choked out, her chest heaving with exhaustion. 

He gripped her face roughly in his hand and brought it close to his. “No, you wanted this dick so you gonna take this dick.” He seethed. “That’s what you came here for right?” 

“Yes sir.” She cried. Jungkook thrusted up into her half a dozen more times before he came inside of her, ripping yet another orgasm from Y/N. She felt tears slide down her face at the sheer force of energy in her veins. She saw white behind her eyes and her body burned all over in the best of ways. 

“Argh!” Jungkook growled boisterously as he came, holding her hips rigidly against his as he came down. When he looked up he could see Y/N practically falling asleep against him, yet her body was shaking slightly. He pulled out of her and released her from her restraints.

“Let’s get you to bed, huh?” He grinned, holding her tight as he let her down because he didn’t expect her to be able to hold herself up. He was proven right as she immediately slumped over his shoulder once her arms were free. The mafia leader carried her to the bed and gently laid her on her back, taking a moment to clean both of them off before he laid down too. 

“Y/N? Are you okay?” He whispered sweetly. Initially, the assassin didn’t realize he was speaking to her as she was quickly drifting off to sleep, but after a moment she assured him, “I’m fine Jungkook.”

[boymeetsweevil]

in your court

Grouping: Reader x B-ball player!Jaehyun (feat. BFF!Hyuck)

Word Count: ~10.8k

Warnings/Themes: Two idiots in love, oc is scary when mad, hyuck is crafty always, jae is a bit intense but he’s just trying his best, gratuitous descriptions of dimples, a kiss!!! sfw!

Prompt: “awkward!oc with his basketball teammate jaehyun. Honestly anything with bff!haechan.”

“Make sure you don’t make it look shaky.”

Donghyuck puts the phone camera close to his face so he can better see your handiwork through the video call. He looks a bit like a fish, but you can’t see him because you’re focused on the mirror in front of you.

“Remind me why I’m being forced to do this?”

“Because I’m your best friend and I deserve a sign just as much as Jisung and Johnny.”

You have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes so you don’t mess up the number 14 you’re drawing carefully onto your cheek in eyeliner. Although you hate to see good makeup go to waste, you’re trying to be a better friend while also trying not to accidentally write the number backwards. It’s Donghyuck’s new number this season and he begged you to show some team spirit despite the fact that you normally mix with sports the same way oil mixes with water. The last time you showed up at practice was the first day of the season and you fell from the third courtside bleacher after Donghyuck called you over to introduce you to a cute new walk-on team member. If anything, just being around sports is dangerous for you.

A minute later, you sneeze while holding the pencil and draw a huge line straight through all your hard work. Donghyuck literally screams and you hang up the call to focus. When you finally finish redrawing on the side of your face, there’s half an hour left before the first home game of the spring season starts. You grab the matching construction paper sign you made earlier, complete with a huge gold glitter 14, and head out the door.  Taeyong is supposed to pick you up so you can make it to the gym on time. He’s the only other friend you have who is remotely associated with sports and that’s only because he’s dating one of the players, Doyoung.

The ticket Donghyuck gave you days ago places you near the court’s side with a near-perfect view. You settle in and wait for the game to begin. The team is already out on half of the court, doing some light warmup tosses and making the occasional mean eye at the visiting team practicing on the other half. You catch your best friend’s eye and he lights up when he sees the sign and eyeliner drawing.

“Check me out, Hyuck!” 

You turn to give him a full view of your profile, subtly proud of your skills.

“Look at you,” he drawls as he jogs over to you, “You know, I think this is the best your eyeliner has ever looked.”

“God, you’re so annoying.” 

You try your best to cast an elbow at him without disturbing the still slightly wet glitter on the sign. When you nearly take out the old man sitting directly in front of you, you settle for flipping him off.

“Wait,” Taeyong peers at the sign, “Aren’t you—”

“I think Doyoung said he was looking for you. Something about wanting a good luck kiss.”

Taeyong narrows his eyes but still stands up to go look for said boyfriend. Doyoung’s not the nervous type, but he’s also not the type to say no to some pre-game affection. You watch Taeyong disappear towards the locker room while Donghyuck steps over some of the fans already seated and takes the now open spot next to you.

“Hey,” he says with no trace of humor in his voice any longer. “Promise you’ll still be my friend after this game?”

You place the sign on your lap and turn to look at your friend. Lately the coach has been pushing him harder and you suppose it’s starting to wear down his usual confidence. With the hand that’s not covered in little golden glitter flecks, you reach down to rub his shoulder.

“Of course I will, Hyuck. And even if you guys don’t win tonight, I’m still taking you to get food after. My treat.”

It was supposed to be a rare moment of sincere friendliness. But this seems to distress him further because he looks down at your hand on his arm and then groans before covering his face in his hands. You’re confused but you don’t have any time to ask him what’s up. A few of his teammates walk over then.

“Sorry to break up the love fest, but Coach wants us to do some stretches before the whistle,” team captain Johnny says, gesturing to the other side of the gym where some other players are already contorting themselves. 

Behind Johnny stands that new walk-on. The one you fell on your face in front of. He takes in your temporary face tattoo and overly detailed sign and smirks, allowing a dimple to wink at you. You can only hope to every deity in the universe that he doesn’t remember the way you first met.

“Hey,” he smiles good-naturedly. “Glad to see you made it here in one piece.” 

“Thank you,” you say with way too much sincerity.

It’s enough to knock Donghyuck out of his bad mood and make him snort loudly beside you. The new guy smiles a bit wider, revealing a twin dimple. You look away.

“Don’t get too friendly, Jung,” Donghyuck says with fake menace in his voice. “There’s only room for one Dream Team member in her life, and that’s me.”

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize you guys were—”

“We’re just friends,” you blurt out before looking down at the fascinating liver spots on the old man’s head in front of you.

“Yeah, she wishes.”

“I definitely don’t,” you snap.

He sticks his tongue out at you. “Well, I’m glad you don’t.” 

“Guys, come on!” Johnny calls a moment before the coach’s whistle blows to give a final warning.

As they walk over to the side of the gym you curse yourself for acting so weird in front of that Jung kid. If he didn’t think you were a dope when you tripped over nothing the first time you met, you’re certain he thinks you have the charms of a 13 year-old boy by now. The only thing that snaps you out of it is the fact that Donghyuck is in a time of distress and clearly needs his friend. 

With squared shoulders and a new sense of duty, you try your hardest to be the world’s best cheerleader. You’re not really sure how sports work, basketball included. The game itself turns out to be really fun. Even though you’re not quite sure what’s happening. Taeyong sends you a text with a picture of your own mildly confused face contorted into a pout as you raise your handmade sign a moment too late, after everyone has already sat back down. But eventually you figure it out after enough times of standing when people around you wearing school colors stand up first. You know enough to cheer every time Donghyuck takes the ball to the basket and boo loudly every time he gets knocked down or his shot misses. In fact, you get so into it that you catch yourself cheering for other players. You even make the mistake of cheering once for new kid Jung but immediately stop when he catches a glimpse of you in the stands and shoots you a beaming smile. 

They win by a small margin, thanks to a 3 pointer Johnny shot in the first half of the game. By the time that happens, you feel like you have a good feel for the game. You don’t have to wait for the other fans from your school to stand up when the last buzzer rings, and you instinctively run out onto the court with the rest of them as the final score settles. There’s adrenaline and joy pushing you into Donghyuck’s arms. He’s genuinely surprised but welcomes the greeting, spinning you lightly while he laughs.

“Congrats on the first win of the season,” you shout when you finally pull back. He lets you squish his cheeks in excitement. Doyoung ambles over then, looking for Taeyong. You offer him congratulations as well.

“Thanks,” he smirks a bit as he takes in your large sign and the slightly smudged 14 on your cheek. “Shouldn’t Jaehyun be the first to hear it, though?”

You raise a confused brow.

“Shouldn’t I be the first to hear what?”

You can’t help the way you stumble back against Donghyuck at the deep sound of Jung—no— Jaehyun’s voice. He looks pleased. Probably with the outcome of their first game.

“I was just saying you should get the first ‘congrats’,” Doyoung explains, nodding in your direction. Jaehyun blinks, but takes it in stride.

“I’d be glad to receive it,” he says with a grin. His dimples pop out even more than usual under the sheen of sweat and the glow from the fluorescents. “So, what’d you think? How’d I do?”

You have no idea why but your heart is beating like it’ll fly out of your chest. It takes everything in you to muster up a cool and natural response.

“You throw good.”

Donghyuck, the traitor that he is, gets sent into a cackling fit. If you listen carefully, between the gasps for air and the hyena-pitched giggles you can hear him calling you a dork. You’d turn to yell at him, but he’s right. Doyoung barely covers up his own laughter while leaning on Donghyuck’s shoulder to try to disguise the sound as a series of coughs. But Jaehyun merely smiles down at his shoes as if he’s somehow moved by your clunky words.

“Sorry,” you mumble.

“No, I feel like I did well today thanks to your little sign.”

“The sign? Oh. Actually, this is for—” 

In that moment you realize two things. The first is that Jaehyun’s jersey has a big 14 emblazoned on the front of it. Just like the one you spent 10 whole minutes drawing onto your right cheek. And the one you spent 2 hours glittering the night before. The second is that you aren’t nearly as observant as you thought you were. Then you realize a third thing: Donghyuck is slowly creeping away from you as it all clicks together in your head.

When you turn to face your friend, the color has already drained out of his neck. He can see the wheels turning in your head and he raises his hands in a placating gesture, but you cut him off before he can even start. Grabbing at his jersey you make him turn around until you can see the white number 6 emblazoned on the fabric. It’s the same number he had last season, and the season before that.

“Just to clarify,” you begin with an unsettlingly calm voice, “When you asked me earlier if I would still be your friend after the game, you were talking about this, right?”

Donghyuck’s eyes go wide and dart around anywhere but your face. “You know what? I think you’re thinking of my brother, Hyongduck. We look a lot alike, so it’s an honest mistake.”

The coach calling him over in that moment is the only thing that keeps you from eviscerating him on the court with so many witnesses. You let him go, but not without him having to un-pry your fingers from his jersey. Jaehyun watches on with amusement in his eyes and you remember that he saw you nearly Hulk out on your friend.

“So, you actually didn’t know my number was 14?”

You shake your head, “I thought it was Hyuck’s.”

“I see.”

He tilts his head again, with eyes narrowed he looks you over before looking past you to where Donghyuck has finally made it to locker room safety.

“Well,” he fiddles with the chain around his neck, “I’m kind of sad the sign isn’t actually mine.”

“Oh. I mean, you can keep it if you want.”

Jaehyun’s head ducks down a second time, shaking his head at the ground like he heard something funny that you couldn’t hear. He does take the sign out of your hands though. With slow hands, he wraps the construction paper up until all the remaining glitter is safely tucked away.

“What about that one?”

“What do you mean?”

He points at his own cheek to mirror yours. You had forgotten all about the 14 you drew on your face to go with the sign.

“I don’t—I don’t know if you can wrap this one up, you know” you laugh stiltedly.

“Yeah. But I could always take a bit for the road. May I?”

All you can do is let out an eloquent ‘huh’ before he’s reaching out then and swiping away at some of the eyeliner that had moved around during the game. The drag of the pad of his thumb across your cheek should be completely harmless. Donghyuck has been infinitely rougher with his handling of you; one of the privileges of close friendship. And yet it’s this soft touch that has your breath leaving you like he punched it out of you. You swear the corner of his mouth raises, but it could be a trick of the light.

“What are you doing after—”

“I gotta go, sorry. Good game,” you toss over your shoulder before pulling your phone up to your ear like you’re taking a sudden phone call. 

No one has to know that you spend the next few minutes dunking your head under one of the running faucets in an empty locker room to cool your heated face.

---

Nearly 20 minutes later, Donghyuck is tiptoeing out of the men’s locker room. He doesn’t notice the shadow waiting for him. When he deems the coast all clear, he opens up his messaging app and shoots you a text asking for your whereabouts.

“I’m right here.”

He jumps nearly 3 feet in the air before letting the scream that built in his throat turn into a whine. You’re just barely visible in the dark corner of the gym. If he squints you look a bit like his sleep paralysis demon.

“You scared me,” he says as he takes a step back only to hit a wall.

“Funny how that happens.”

You pull out your phone, stilling standing in the dark, and let the light from your phone cast eerie shadows across your face. Donghyuck gulps audibly as he watches you type slowly in response to his text. The sound of his phone notification moments later sounds deafening in the otherwise silent space.

You (21:39) - Run.

“Look, let’s talk this out like adults.” His hands come up, palms exposed like you’re a feral animal.

“I knew you weren’t number 14,” your voice is steady and devoid of emotion as you take a step towards him.

“Then you shouldn’t have fallen for it—shit. Wait!”

He trips in his haste to get away from you and falls. You foot lands dangerously close to his face as you come to stand in over him and he grimaces.

“Please don’t kill me, I’ll do anything.”

“Why did you tell me your number was Jaehyun’s number? Make it good and maybe I’ll let you live.”

“I just felt like it.”

“What the hell!”

“I’m serious.”

“Wrong answer, Hyuck.”

With that, you wriggle a foot free from one of your sneakers and shove your socked foot over his nose. You’ve been wearing the shoes all day and, because you forgot to do laundry the night before, the socks are recycled. The sound of Donghyuck’s cries for help make you slightly better and you smile softly to yourself.

You would think that Donghyuck would have learned his lesson about not causing chaos in your life after a face-full of foot. But you should know that it’s practically his job description after knowing him for as long as you have. Sometimes you love that about him and sometimes you kind of hate him for it. This time, you hate him for it. 

Donghyuck prefaces the outing as a way of apologizing for tricking you. Normally you would have been slightly more critical. The first thing to tip you off should have been the fact the “apology" in question was coming almost two and a half weeks after the fateful jersey swap accident. The second thing should have been that the “apology” was coming in the form of a trip to a very specific tea house you don’t frequent because you’re not a tea person. And Donghyuck knows this. Because he knows everything else about you. Like which sweatpants you wear when you’re feeling bloated or when you just need a hug. But mainly you should have known something was up because it was Donghyuck. When he feels like he should do something, there’s no stopping him.

“What do you want to order,” he asks while holding the front door open for you to pass through. 

“A smoothie.”

“It’s a damn tea house, order something normal.”

“A smoothie is normal.”

“Do you order hot dogs at seafood restaurants too,” he pins you with a tired glare. You mirror the glare and add crossed arms.

“If they don’t have a smoothie, then I don’t want anything.”

You take a look around at the interior of the shop. It’s the polar opposite of the shops you usually frequent, which are all trendy with their mixes of dark, unfinished woodwork and sleek minimalist furniture. This place is almost cottage-like in the ornateness of the older architecture and the collection of kitschy antique pieces. You’re not surprised to see that a good deal of the patrons are older, some verging on elderly. There’s only a handful of people who look like they could be your peers. One of them looks oddly familiar. You can’t put your finger on it, but there’s something familiar about the way he stands and the delicate gold links laying across the back of his neck.

“Jaehyun,” Donghyuck calls a bit too excitedly, “Hey, man is that you? What are you doing here”

“You told me to meet you—” Donghyuck cuts him off with a dramatic gasp and a glance at his bare wrist.

“Aw, would you look at the time. I actually have somewhere to be right now, so I can’t stick around.”

“But you drove us here,” you whip your head around to look at him, but he coughs suddenly and looks away.

“Yeah, sorry. No time to drop you back off at your place, so I guess you have to figure that out yourself. Jae drives though. Maybe you can figure something out.”

Neither of you really know what to say. You watch silently with your mouth open in disbelief as Donghyuck turns on his heel and struts out of the tea shop exit, whistling contentedly. You suppose that if you’re the god of chaos reincarnated, all of this would feel like a good day’s work. You berate yourself for recently washing your socks.

“Good to see you again,” Jaehyun says after a beat. He shoves his hands into his pockets. “Thought I had scared you off after...yeah.”

“Oh, right. That.”

The air feels both too thick and too thin at the same time. You want to leave, every fiber of your being is screaming at you to leave before you do something weird in front of him again. But you can’t move. So you stand there, 3 feet away and not saying anything as Jaehyun looks over the large chalkboard menu hanging above the head of the older woman who is manning the front counter.

“What are you getting?”

“Me? Uh, I don’t know. I’m not really a tea person.”

“Well, what kind of person are you?”

Given the context, it’s a harmless question. But there’s a sing-songy lilt to the way he asks the question. It’s so blatant that curiosity gets the best of you and you stop purposefully avoiding looking at him. One of his dimples is out and he’s very nearly poking the tip of his tongue out at you, like he knows you’re suffering and he thinks it's funny. Almost like he’s flirting. Almost.

“I’m a smoothie person,” you finally say. “But there’s no smoothies on the menu.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“But doesn’t it say ‘no customizations’?” 

There’s a sign on the edge of the counter that says just that. Despite the fact that it’s written in beautiful, looping cursive, there’s an ominous tone to the message. Like the little old lady behind the counter might actually make you into tea if you asked for a frappe or something. You’re a little worried for Jaehyun’s safety. He must sense some sort of hesitance because he brushes it off and gestures toward the rest of the shop.

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it, you can go grab us a table.”

The way he says ‘us’ so casually has you tripping slightly over nothing. He’s somehow there in the nick of time to grab at your elbow in a gentlemanly fashion to help steady you. Perhaps you yank yourself out of his proximity a little too quickly. But it’s only because you really want to find a good table and you can’t do that if Jaehyun is distracting you by grabbing at your limbs. 

In actuality, though, the tea shop is fairly vacant. There are a variety of tables with pressed white tablecloths and dainty tiered tea trays housing pastries. You pick one at random and sit down. Part of you really does wish you’d left when Donghyuck did. But the other part is curious to see what Jaehyun’s like when he’s away from his team and truly outside the context you usually find him in. So you compromise and watch as subtly as you can.

He seems fairly similar—all charming smiles and pretty hair while approaching the counter to talk with the lady you assume is the owner of the shop. She looks stern as she polishes some dainty bone china, but brightens when he comes to the counter. You watch in quiet awe as she reaches a hand up to pat fondly at the side of his face, most likely pinching a cheek from the angle you’re sitting at. You see him run a hand over the back of his neck which grows red after he says something to her that she must not like. Her brow grows heavy and her lips purse but he says something else then that has her directing her sharp gaze at you. You gulp and pretend you were merely admiring the tea sandwich tray on the table as opposed to spying. A wave of sudden embarrassment comes over you and you open up your phone to text Donghyuck

You (15:38) - this is a shit apology just so u know

You (15:38) - come get me plz

Hyuck (15:40) - sorry suddenly cant read dont know what that says :)

You place your phone face down onto the table and cross your arms with a huff. While trying to plan an escape that makes you look the least asshole-y possible, Jaehyun returns with the drinks. More specifically, he returns with a tall water glass in one hand that’s filled with a pale tea with fruit chunks and mint leaves sprinkled throughout. The other hand is encased in a floral appliqué oven mitt that holds the prettiest squat little teapot you’ve ever seen. It’s blue, so it doesn’t match the pastel green teacups organized on the tablecloth, but it’s still a lovely sight.

“What’s this,” you stir at the fruit in the glass with an elegant teaspoon.

“It’s a chilled fruit tea,” he explains while casually pouring himself a steaming cup of black tea. “I tried my hardest with Mrs. Li, but there was no way I was gonna get you a smoothie. This is the closest thing I could get.”

“You really didn’t have to go to all that trouble. I would have been fine with just a water. I don’t want to get you in trouble with the owner.”

“Don’t worry. I think my reputation is fine for now.”

It’s weirdly fascinating to watch him fix up his tea. As a member of a basketball team, you would have never thought he’d be a tea drinker. Let alone a tea drinker who takes heaping spoonfuls of sugar to go with a tiny splash of milk in his tea. He hums a little to himself as he stirs it all with a silver spoon that’s been crafted to look like roses are growing up the stem. When he looks up a moment later, he catches you staring at him. His eyes crinkle and they look like they did when he looked at you after shooting a 3 at the latest home game, full of quiet joy. Both then and now you’re not sure what the smile means or why it seems to be for you. You look down and realize his lips are moving.

“What?”

He chuckles at how far away you sound. “I said ‘how’s the tea?’”

“Oh, uh, I don’t know yet. I got distracted. I was...thinking.”

“Mhm.” There’s smugness practically oozing out of his thoughtful hum.

You take a sip to appease him and frantically search for something to say that won’t make it obvious that you aren’t a fan of tea, but then you stop yourself. It’s no smoothie, but it really is the next best thing. The tea is cold like a smoothie, providing the same reprieve from the sticky heat of Spring. The tea with all its macerated berries and mint leaves is sweet and thick much like a smoothie.

“This is amazing,” you peer down at the cup like you’re not sure where half the glass went.

A light weight lands on your shoulder then. “That’s very kind of you, dear. High praise coming from a non-tea-drinker.”

It takes a lot of effort not to scream and even then your eyes open comically wide and you jump in your seat. Jaehyun has to disguise his laughter at your reaction by turning away in his seat as you turn in yours to face the old lady who was at the counter.

“I’m sorry for any trouble you went to so you could make this, Mrs. Li, Ma’am. I told Jaehyun that I wanted a smoothie and he was just trying to make me feel comfortable.”

“Oh, I know. Jaehyun’s been coming to the shop since I opened it, so he should know all about my ban on requests.” Mrs. Li eyes Jaehyun as he takes an innocent sip of his tea. “He’s always been courteous about it, so I thought he must have a darn good reason for breaking my rule this time.”

Jaehyun’s hand slips while pouring a second cup, but he doesn’t say anything as Mrs. Li continues to expose him. 

“Now, that reminds me. Jaehyun, my boy, I’m sorry to tell you that Kevin won’t be coming to his sessions this week. He has a dentist appointment and it can’t be helped,” she sighs and waves her hands.

“That’s alright. As long as he practices a little every day he should be in good shape and we can pick up right where we stopped.”

She nods and for a moment the serious expression on her face morphs into something softer. Patting the back of his chair, she looks over the table and then at you.

“Alright. I hope everything is to your liking, but if something does come up do feel free to tell Jaehyun. He’s a very capable young man and he knows the shop like the back of his hand. I’d better get back to work now. The silver won’t polish itself.”

You wait a few beats to be respectful, but as soon as Mrs. Li returns to her post behind the counter you gulp down the rest of your tea and lean in. 

“Who’s Kevin?”

“Her 9 year old grandson. I teach him and his younger brother piano on the weekends.”

“Oh, that’s—that’s nice,” you nod coolly. At least, you hope it appears cool. Internally you’re scrambling.

Of course your best friend’s basketball teammate teaches piano to young kids. Of course he helps the elderly tea shop lady with her store. Of course he drinks sweet tea out of blue floral teacups. Of course.

He’s finally ready to go after a third cup. You’re not sure where he’s putting it all, but it seems to be a regular occurrence for him. He takes your glass from you before you can argue about your own ability to do it and walks back over to the counter. Now more than ever you wish you could read lips. He goes around the counter to wash the glass in the farmer’s sink in the back and then stops briefly to say something to Mrs. Li. She says something back with a smile that has his cheeks flaming. He leaves a bill on the counter and comes back mumbling about his tea being too hot when you stare at his face. You’re not sure how true that is given how fast he downed those cups.

When you emerge from the tea shop, the sun is shining from a different angle and the temperature has mellowed out.

“My car is a few blocks that way,” he points in the direction of the parking lot nearby. 

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to.” Even with his soft tone, his voice is firm and you don’t try to fight him on it.

But it’s strange walking with Jaehyun silently. It feels entirely too companionable despite the fact that you don’t even know him. 

“Do you...want to play 20 questions?”

He stops in his tracks, clearly not expecting you to talk without him coaxing you out of your shell. But after the initial shock fades, he nods.

“What’s your favorite color?”

“White,” he says immediately. “What’s your major?”

“Studio art. Do you play other sports?”

“Nah. Is Donghyuck your best friend?”

“Yeah, Hyuck’s my best friend.”

“Is he...protective?”

“Protective? Of what?”

“You, I guess.”

“Hyuck?” You let out a snort because the thought is just hilarious. “On the right day I’m pretty sure he’d sell me to Satan for a fresh order of sweet potato fries.”

“I see,” he purses his lips like he’s in deep thought before returning back to the present moments later. “You get two since I asked two.”

“Do you like it here, now that it’s been a while since you transferred?”

“Yeah,” he looks you in the eyes. “I like it here.”

You swallow a bit too audibly but power through and keep asking questions. It takes nearly half an hour to walk the two and a half blocks leading to the parking lot. Even after that, Jaehyun takes a scenic route back to the main campus. When he pulls up outside your dorm, you’re not sure what to say, but it feels like something should be said. The sun is near setting and he’s haloed by the dying rays as he leans on the steering wheel to make sure you make it inside.

After giving a little awkward nod, you drag yourself out of the cabin of his car. There’s only a few steps left until you reach the door when he calls out. You turn.

“So,” he trails off, drumming his hands on the steering wheel before adjusting the mirror even though he’s in park and no one is coming. “Donghyuck has, like, a million fans.”

“What?”

“I just mean that he’s been on the team for years, he has a fan base. But I’m just a transfer student, so I don’t have that. And, you know, it’s really nice to have someone to cheer for you.” He tests the waters and looks at you hesitantly before continuing. “I still have your poster.”

All you can do is blink as you realize what’s going on. Or, you think you know what’s going on. And it makes zero sense to you, but you have a habit of overthinking things anyway. You kick at a pebble near the toe of your shoe, taking some time to muster up the courage to be presumptuous in a way you’re not used to.

“I can...I can make you another sign. If you want. Or like wear your number.” He grins and in that moment it seems to outshine the fading sun. “So you don’t feel left out.”

“I’d like that.” He starts the car up then, still grinning as he looks down to shift gears and adjust all his mirrors yet again. “Tell Hyuck he doesn’t need to set aside tickets anymore.”

“Okay,” is your witty reply before turning once more with a too warm face.

He waves at your retreating back before putting the car into drive.

Everyone on the team knows that every once in a while Donghyuck likes to come to practice a lot earlier than is probably normal. It’s not strange to come in when there’s 30, 40, even 50 minutes before practice starts and find him practicing footwork or doing layups on the court alone. 

Jaehyun hedges a guess that he’ll find Donghyuck in the gym a good hour before practice starts one day and is pleased to find that his intuition was correct. There’s music blasting from a portable speaker and Donghyuck is doing some of the drills the coach likes to run, but done with his non-dominant hand.

When the ball rolls to a stop and Donghyuck moves to get some water, Jaehyun announces himself.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” 

“You quitting already?”

“Not yet,” Donghyuck takes in the serious set of Jaehyun’s jaw and shoulders. “We can do a 1-on-1. If you’re up for it.”

Jaehyun nods and sheds his outer layers on the sidelines. Donghyck wonders if he’s angry about something, perhaps that about practice a few days ago where he went a little too hard on Jaehyun and bashed his cheek with an elbow during a scrimmage. He braces himself for some incoming aggression, knowing he may deserve it a little.

They settle for leaving the ball on the ground in the paint since the equipment cabinet is still locked until the coach arrives. Both of them sprint from the freethrow line, with Jaehyun grabbing the ball first. Donghyuck moves into defense easily, having been in game mode for who knows how long. Jaehyun isn’t nearly as tough in his offense as Donghyck expected. In fact, he’s playing surprisingly light.

“What’s up with you,” Donghyuck says after the first basket.

Jaehyun catches the ball after it falls from the basket, jogging it back to the starting position. Donghyuck waits for him back at the freethrow line, brows raised but otherwise silent.

“Nothing’s up. Nothing big, I mean.”

“You’re a pretty bad liar.”

The words catch Jaehyun by surprise and he stumbles a bit coming off the line. Donghyuck uses the momentary shock to his advantage and steals the ball. The point comes easy as he basically runs a circle around his competitor.

“Since I won that point, why don’t you tell me what’s really bothering you?”

Donghyuck doesn’t bother going back to the freethrow line and instead goes back to dribbling practice. His rhythm is slow with his off hand, but steady. Better than Jaehyun’s with his off hand.

“Do you believe in bro code?”

Donghyuck snorts. “I guess. You’re not gonna ask me for my mom’s phone number, are you?”

“No. Not your mom’s,” Jaehyun trails off.

Instantly Donghyuck knows what this is about. Or who. Your face flashes in his mind and he has to bite his own cheek to keep from laughing. Being your best friend gives him exclusive access to just how awkward you can be. But the fact that Jaehyun resorted to all this buildup is kind of hilarious.

“Aw, you guys are cute.”

“What?” Jaehyun’s cheeks grow pink. “Why is this cute?” 

“Look, you don’t need to ask me first or do whatever this is. I’m not her keeper. And I’m not gonna sabotage you, either.” Jaehyun’s shoulders lose some of their squared off edge.

“Okay,” he nods. “Thanks, man.”

“I could use a favor, though.”

“Oh. What is it?”

“I have a meeting with Coach after practice today. But I also really need to pick something up at the stationery store before tomorrow. Can you go pick it up for me?”

“Sure, I guess.”

“Cool. I’ll text you the details later.”

---

Jaehyun arrives at the stationery store with his phone in hand. The note from Donghyuck mentions some special set of paints with a foreign-sounding name. As he walks through the aisles of the little store, Jaehyun wonders who the paints are for. The note also mentioned that they were a gift for someone, but it doesn’t say who the someone is.

It takes a few laps around the store, and by the time he spots the little nook for the brand, the store owner's voice had already sounded through the overhead speakers to say that the shop would be closing soon. He grabs the last box left and quietly rejoices. Donghyuck had bartered your number for the price of running the errand. If Jaehyun could get the paints, then he could get the number. The odd part was that Donghyuck had mentioned something about Jaehyun possibly not even needing to ask him for the number if he played his cards right. Originally he had shrugged the comment off, but it did raise the hairs on the back of his neck a bit. There’s something about Donghyuck that feels akin to a cartoon villain, but Jaehyun can’t put his finger on it.

“Checking out?”

“Yeah,” he hands the shop attendant the container of paints.

The attendant tries to scan the barcode, but a strange sound comes from the machine.

“I think something’s wrong with the barcode. If you can wait right here, I’ll go get another one to scan and give you that one instead.”

“Oh. That was actually the last one left.”

“I see.” The attendant presses some keys on the computer before nodding. “I think we should have a reference code in that backroom. I can go get that and punch it in manually if that’s okay.”

“If it’s not too much trouble, that would be great.”

The attendant assures him it’ll only be a moment before leaving the counter and disappearing into the back of the store. Jaehyun waits patiently while leaning on the counter when the bell to the front door of the shop rings. Another customer has come in right before closing, and the sound of their labored breathing makes it clear that they know they’re cutting it close. The footsteps fade out and then grow louder once more after a few minutes. He takes a glance over his shoulder to see you standing a little bit behind him.

“Oh. Hi. H-hey.”

“Hey, yourself.” Jaehyun turns completely and sets his phone on the counter. “What brings you here?”

“I’m just grabbing some paint. I ran out a few days ago and I have some big projects coming up.”

“That’s funny. I’m doing the same thing.”

“Do you paint,” your eyes grow a little bigger with the prospect. At the sight of your small smile, Jaehyun wishes he could paint for the first time ever.

“No, but I’d like to learn.” And it’s never been true before, but he means it in that moment.

“Well, I could—”

“Sorry for the delay,” the shop attendant comes jogging back from the backroom. “Another employee had the reference book, so I had to spend some time to hunt it down. But you should be all set now.”

Jaehyun sends an apologetic smile your way before turning back to finish checking out. Once he’s done, even though he’s on a tight schedule with this favor, he hangs back.

“—I’m sorry but we sold out of the Neo Color Technology paints. If you’d like, we can give you a call when the next shipment comes in, but there’s a two-week wait.”

“Ah, really? Okay.” 

You gnaw on the inside of your cheek as you think about what you’ll do now. The idea of continuing some of your projects with a new set of paints that could have a completely different set of hues makes you nervous. You just perfected the shade of green you needed at the base for your huge forest study. Now you’d have to start from scratch.

Jaehyun is trying his hardest not to eavesdrop, but the odd paint name catches his attention. It’s the same one he just bought, per Donghyuck’s request.

“You can have mine,” he blurts out. “I’m the one who bought the last ones. But I obviously don’t need them like you do.”

“Are you sure?”

“Please, take them.”

Jaehyun hands you the bag. The smile you offer him in return is brilliant.

“I’ll pay you back.”

“God, no. Don’t worry about it.”

“Then, let me buy you a tea or something at least.” You hand him your phone. “Here, put your number in and you can pick a day. I’ll pay.”

So Jaehyun takes your phone and inputs his number. A moment later he gets a text from you, clarifying that it’s you. He feels victorious for a moment and then confused. Here he is, getting your number without having to ask, just like Donghyuck himself had mentioned. He’s getting this number because he gave you, Donghyuck’s friend, some paints. Paints that Donghyuck asked him to buy, as a gift to a mysterious friend. 

Maybe Donghyuck is less like a villain and more like a twisted fairy godmother.  

This little dance you keep doing with Jaehyun is strange, to say the least. 

It felt odd to copy the number 14 onto your cheek for the first time knowing who it would really be for. And it felt weird to get so used to doing it that you can now copy the stencil in with practiced ease using the face paint you bought specifically for the occasion, no longer worrying about accidentally writing it backwards. All the while, you can barely make eye contact with him after a game, although you can practically feel the weight of his gaze when you make a beeline for Donghyuck after the last buzzer rings. And you can see the way his hand tugs at the gold chain around his neck as he approaches you cautiously. And you can hear the disappointment in his tone when he asks if you’re going to the house parties thrown by one of the players that typically follow the games only to hear you say no each time.

Another few weeks later finds you trying to make it through midterms. Donghyuck being a literature major means his midterms schedule is always different from yours. This time his midterms end much earlier, a few days earlier to be exact. You’re left to suffer through late night crunches to finish up paintings for one of your crits. Photoshopping some pieces for your digital art class leaves you so busy you don’t even register what’s going on around you.

“It’s my turn to host the post-game party,” he says after letting himself into your apartment one day. He drops the spare keyring reserved for him in the dish near the front door.

“Mhm.”

“But I feel like it would be a nice change to have it here.” When he makes a big show of dropping the takeout he brought you, you don’t even flinch at the sound of it hitting the table you’ve taken over.

“Sounds good,” is all you say as you try to find the one layer out of the 25 you had that you were looking for.

“Great, so I’ll probably stop by on Friday with stuff before the game to set up and then the team can just come through afterwards.”

“Sure.”

“Don’t hate me,” he places a kiss on the top of your head before wrinkling his nose when he smells your unwashed hair. “And don’t work yourself too hard, either.”

“Yeah...definitely.”

Friday comes by and you’re still working, so you have to skip the actual game itself. In the brief window of free time you had that morning, you wonder if you should text Jaehyun again so you can tell him you won’t be coming or bringing your little hand stenciled 14. But you decide against it. It’s a big game and he doesn’t need to be bogged down by unnecessary texts.

You’re actually away at your first crit when Donghyuck stops by again, this time with party supplies. When you come back, you barely register the mountain of beers and cheap wines sitting in your kitchen. All you want to do is sleep like the dead for a few hours. As you zombie walk to your room, you swear you hear him call to you to ask if he can store his balloons in the sink. With your last two brain cells you figure he must have said something else and you were just too tired to actually comprehend it.

Hours later, bass blaring through the thin walls of your place wakes you from your slumber. The details of your conversation with Donghyuck a few days prior come flooding back just as you pick up your pepper spray to drive out what you thought were home intruders. You leave your weapon behind and open your door just slightly. The music washes over you, louder now that the seal to your bedroom has been broken. 

There’s plenty of voices coming outside that accompany the music. Even a few errant screams make it inside and to your ears. Courtesy of Chenle, no doubt. A few more brave steps outside your room and a glance out of the hallway window lets you know that you didn’t mishear Donghyuck. You see several of the guys chucking water balloons at one another on the grass outside. The pile of little teardrop-shaped balloons is admirably large and it becomes clear that they’ll be doing this for a while.

You’re not in the mood to get soaked or get mosquito bites just so you can seem friendly. After all, the party is being hosted in your apartment complex. That’s friendly enough, you reason. Once you’ve done a quick sweep through the rest of the apartment to make sure nothing is stolen, stained, or broken, you return to your room to get ready for bed properly. It takes a while because you have to wash your hair on top of everything else after receiving a very strongly worded text from Donghyuck.

While in your bathroom, brushing your teeth and watching a video Taeyong sent you, there’s jumbled knocking on your door. Barely any time passes between the last knock and the creak of someone leaning on your door as they open it. You curse to yourself before spitting in the sink.

“Hey, the bathroom for guests is actually—”

Jaehyun stands in the middle of your room, squinting at the tapestry you have hanging over your bed. The sound of his teeth chattering despite it being the peak of Spring is actually alarming enough to stop you from being mad that Donghuck didn’t think to put a clear sign towards the bathroom for the general public.

“I always thought your room would have candles in it,” Jaehyun drawls. He looks around once more like he’s hoping a candle will jump out of a hiding spot. All his movements are slow and sleepy.

“Are you drunk?”

He grins with eyes that droop closed. “Yep.” 

“Great,” you mumble. When you take a step closer you realize the dark red sleeveless tank he’s wearing is actually dark from being saturated with water. “Why are you wet?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah. We played water balloon tag. I lost the last round.”

Jaehyun places a clumsy finger to his lips and stage-whispers a loud “shh”. For some reason you mirror that back to him. He nods, satisfied with your reaction.

“Don’t tell the others, but I...” he hiccups “I got cold, so I came inside.”

“What’s wrong with telling them you’re cold.” He hangs his head in shame then. Clearly you’re missing something important.

“Hyuck says bad bitches never get cold.”

With his shoulders slumped forward in such a pitiful fashion, you actually feel bad for wanting to laugh. It’s surprising. Super surprising actually, considering Jaehyun’s presence in your room means Donghyuck forgot to do the one thing you ask of him when he hosts parties at your place—put clear signs for drunk people to follow to the guest bathroom. You usually don’t want to deal with drunk student athletes, but something about Jaehyun makes him exempt from that.

“You can warm up here.”

As soon as you say the words, you cringe. It sounds like the awful beginnings of a bad porno, but your intentions really are pure. There’s something too sad about watching him nearly doze off while standing up like a newborn colt. So you go and find the best hoodie that you have in your clean laundry and you risk going to the kitchen and getting hit with a runaway water balloon so you can put water on for tea. Hopefully it will warm him up while also sobering him up a little.

“Is this Hyuck’s shirt,” he asks as soon as you return with a steaming mug.

“Uh, I think so.” You take a moment to appraise the hoodie. “Yeah, it’s his. It’s from one of his basketball camps from when we were younger, I think.”

He purses his lips but gratefully takes the mug with swaying hands. After taking a large sip, he hums and lets his head loll back with a smile.

“This is Mrs. Li’s blend.”

“Yeah.” 

It doesn’t seem right to tell him that you’ve been back there a couple times now and have started trying to get into tea. You take the time to put some distance between him and you. You walk to your bed and fluff a pillow that doesn’t need fluffing. The thing is that Jaehyun being in your room feels...weird. He looks all too content and comfortable in the space. That’s not to say he doesn’t suit the environment well. Somehow he looks like he belongs in your room with his soaked tank top and damp hair. You fluff the pillow harder.

“You must be tired,” he says after a long silence. He’s finished his tea but his eyes are still glassy.

“What?”

“Donghyuck told me ‘bout all your projects. Told me you had to draw him for one.”

“Oh, yeah I did. People actually loved that piece the most. But it took me the shortest amount of time.”

“Next time,” he begins ambling across the room, coming to place the empty mug on your bedside table. “Next time, you can ask me to model. If you want.”

“I mean, I only asked Hyuck since he was watching TV and he was there. Plus I know his face so well that it doesn’t even matter if he talks while I paint. The company is kind of nice.”

“Well, you can do it with me next.”

He’s drunk, you remind yourself. He doesn’t realize how strange what he’s saying is. And yet, your face still heats up. The sound of his teeth chattering lightly again reminds you how he got to be in your room in the first place. Jaehyun hugs himself as he continues to check out your room with a small smile on his face. He looks content.

“Do you want to get in,” you offer before your brain can process what your mouth has just done. His eyes go wide.

“Excuse me?” 

“Not—I mean, you just...look really cold and tired. Plus I heard you guys lost the game tonight, so the coach had you hauling ass after.” At the sight of his mildly amused face, tongue nudged between his teeth you add, “I don’t mean you should stay the night. It could just be for a bit and then you could, like, get up and call a cab home. But I get it if you’d rather not. Actually, I can just go see if Hyuck is around. I think he brought his—”

“No, no, stay,” he replies quickly to keep you from jumping out of bed. “I could use the rest.”

He turns around to shrug off the wet tank and pull on the hoodie, mumbling something about ‘not wanting to get your sheets wet’. Internally you wonder if you’re being laughed at by the gods while staring politely at nothing in the other corner of the room. You scoot over from your position in the middle of the bed to the side opposite him. He rewards your kindness with a flash of a bright smile before moving to pull back the covers.

His face lands directly in one of your pillows and you panic when you realize your sheets aren’t fresh out the washer. Jaehyun doesn’t seem to mind and lets out a sigh before shivering a little. With the hood over his hair, you can barely make out his eyes but you can tell they’re trained on you.

“You sure this is okay,” he whispers. 

“Yeah.”

The bed shifts minutely as he turns a little to get more comfortable. It feels hot in the bed all of the sudden. Despite the fact that you have on weather appropriate pajamas and your most lightweight Spring bedding on. Despite the fact that you’re not laying close enough to him to be able to feel any body heat. Maybe it’s warmer outside than you thought. That’s probably it.

---

When you wake up several hours later, it’s to the sound of clanking in your living room. The other side of the bed is empty and you try not to read into it. It wasn’t supposed to be a full night over, after all. You swing your feet over the edge of the bed only to squeal when your foot hits something cold in the little rug you keep there.

“What is it!” Donghyuck crashes into the room while holding the trash bag he was collecting loose beer cans with. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just—oh.”

You look down at the rug and see something shiny and metallic as opposed to something wet and slimy. With your index finger and thumb, you pick up a medium length golden chain. It shines even in the low lighting of your bedroom. You both squint at the jewelry, trying to place it.

Donghyuck’s eye grow wide and he looks around the room in disgust suddenly.

“Was he in here?”

“Uh, yeah,” you grumble as you rub your eyes.

“What for?”

When Donghyuck raises an inquisitive eyebrow, your mouth drops open.

“We just slept—”

“You slept together?”

“Hyuck, not like that! What’s your problem?”

“Still, why is he sleeping in here? You never have guys sleep in here.”

“You sleep in here all the time,” you point a finger at him.

“True,” he cedes immediately, pointing a finger back. “Well, you better return that. I think it’s his lucky charm or something.”

“Can’t you do it?” He laughs before returning to the living room. 

“He didn’t leave it in my bed.” 

“I–fine. I don’t need your help anyway.” 

At that, he snorts.

“You do, but I’ll let you keep thinking that you don’t, because I’m a good friend.”

“You’re annoying, that’s what you are.”

You pull on a sweater before coming out of your room with your phone in hand. There’s a companionable silence that falls over you two as you attempt to draft a text to Jaehyun about his chain while Donghyuck picks up the remaining trash from the party.

“How’d everything go,” you ask once the message is sent.

“It was fine. Jae was so gone that we thought he had flushed himself down the toilet for a while. But I guess that’s not what happened.”

Your face heats up at the teasing tone he uses.

“Hyuck, I have something to tell you.”

“God, what? Are you pregnant?”

“No! What the hell? Are you?” You try to swipe at his butt from the back of the couch.

“No! But...can you just say what you’re gonna say? You’re making me nervous.”

He even goes so far as to put the trash down and come around to sit with you on the sofa. You take a deep breath.

“I have a crush on Jaehyun. I just thought you should know.”

He stares at you, not blinking for a few seconds. He opens his mouth and then shakes his head to himself and closes it again.

“I see,” he finally says.

“It’s been going on a while, and I didn’t want to leave you in the dark.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Nope! I don’t mind being in the shadows. I do some of my best work there.”

“Do you think it could go anywhere?”

“What do you mean,” he throws another can into his bag.

“Like, do you think I have a chance with him?”

Donghyuck turns to stare at you, deadpan. “Do I think you have a chance with Jung Jaehyun? The man who slept in your bed a few hours ago?”

“Yeah.” Your face is completely open and imploring.

He sighs, “I think you might have a shot, sure.”

“Why, though?”

“I don’t know. Just a hunch.”

The next game of the season is a big one. The team coming in to play is an old school rival, so it draws a crowd that contains even the less sport-inclined students. You manage to get a ticket set away, but it’s still tough trying to find a spot to sit. It’s first come first serve with seats since the gym isn’t big enough to have labeled arena seating. 

Initially you had planned to use the extra time you had before the start to return Jaehyun’s chain, but it took you so long to make it from the parking lot to the gym and then to an open seat that there wasn’t any time left. Somewhere in between, you nearly get knocked over by the heavy current of fans from both teams flooding the space. The chain, once clutched in your hand, ends up around your neck out of fear that you lose it permanently.

You end up in the nosebleeds for the rest of the time. The players look like ants and if it weren’t for the large printed numbers on their jerseys, you might not be able to tell all of them apart. You text Donghyuck your location, and you see him looking towards the back rows at the beginning of the game, but he has to stay focused. You try your hardest to focus as well. At this point, you’re just about fluent in the sport that is basketball. But tonight’s game is hard to follow despite this. Jaehyun grabs your attention instead. He plays especially rough tonight, you note. He pushes hard across the court, even gets a couple warnings for defending like he’s on offense. There’s a fair amount of goals with his name on them as well. It’s exciting and you just wish your cheers could reach him.

More annoyance comes when the game finally ends. It’s a last minute shot by one of the other players who walked on this season that tips the game in your school’s favor. The crowd is deafening, even the ending buzzer is muted by their shouts. The bleachers shake under you with the force of fans running to meet their favorite players and generally gloat in front of the other team on the court. The shaking underneath you is terrifying enough to keep you seated until things have died down. There’s still probably a minimum of hundred people gathered on the floor, but you can at least step over empty concession bags as opposed to being stepped on by the supportive members of the hockey team.

It takes forever to find a single person you know. Of course it’s Donghyuck, who is in the middle of talking with some friends from off the team.

“Hyuck,” you begin to run over. When he sees you, you give him a big smile.

“No,” he responds simply as you get closer.

You slow down and let confusion wrinkle your brow. He offers no further verbal explanation but does give you a swift head nod in another direction. You follow the gesture and find Jaehyun at the end of the path. He looks a bit lost despite being with Doyoung and Johnny.

The fact that the others are there makes you freeze up at first, but the feeling of the chain laying delicately on your clavicle reminds you of what you need to do. Luckily, he sees you before the others do and he steps aside under the guise of getting a fresh towel. He waits for you to catch up once he’s out of their line of sight.

His voice is low, like he’s worried being too loud will make you change your mind about talking with him. But there’s an undercurrent of sincere happiness.

“There you are.”

“I was at the top row. I got here too late to sit where I normally do.”

“Ah. I thought maybe you couldn’t make it.”

“There’s no way I would be able to miss this one. Hyuck threatened to shave my head if I did.”

“That...sounds like him.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle. The nerves are getting to you a bit. You’ve never confessed your feelings to anyone before, and you’re not sure if Donghyuck was right about you having a shot.

“So, what are you doing—”

“I’ve been meaning to tell—”

You both start talking at once and then immediately clam up when you interrupt each other. 

He gives the floor to you. “You go first.”

“Okay.” 

You reach for the back of your neck and watch as his gaze follows the movement of your hands only for his eyes to light up in recognition.

���I wondered where that thing went.”

“You left it at my place. I put it on because I was scared I’d lose it for real. Sorry.”

He reaches out casually to thumb at the chain around your neck. “Don’t be. It looks good on you.”

“It looks better on you.”

The chain slides off cool against your skin and your fingers shake as you carry the chain over to him. Wordlessly, you reach up and loop your arms around his neck to reunite the chain with its rightful owner. Sweaty palms make it difficult to redo the clasp without being able to see it. It puts you right in his personal space for an awkwardly long time.

“I’m really sweaty,” he whispers.

“Uh, that’s nice?”

He laughs and it puffs off your temple.

“I don’t want to get you dirty, but I really want to kiss you right now.” The clasp finally snaps into place

“Oh.”

The way he leans in, the way his arms come to cage around your waist, the drip of the sweat from his temple down the hinge of his jaw. All of it is slow. As if to give you the space to withdraw if you wanted. But you surge forward into him. And for once it’s not awkward. You don’t know how long you stand there necking like hormonal high schoolers in a sea of people on the gym floor at a school dance, but—just like at the school dance—someone is bursting the gossamer thin ambiance just when Jaehyun’s fingers graze the back pocket of your jeans.

“If you look to your left, boys and girls, you can see two local horndogs engaged in a seasonal ritual” He karate chops a hand down the space between your faces, cutting the kiss off abruptly and nearly bruising Jaehyun’s nose. Meanwhile Taeyong snickers loudly from behind Doyoung.

“Do you have a death wish,” you turn to him with fire in your eyes. He backs up slightly, but attempts to stand his ground.

“Do you know how hard I’ve been working to set you two up?”

“What are you talking about?”

You turn to Jaehyun, who looks just as confused. The gears turning in your heads are practically visible as you and he put 2 and 2 together slowly. The random lies, the weird errands, the sudden party. The blank stares from Donghyuck every time the two of you were in the same room but refused to talk. It all adds up.

“You owe me sweet potato fries for the rest of your life. Maybe longer, I’m not sure yet.”

Donghyuck puts his arms around you and Jaehyun, pulling you with him as he heads out of the gym and towards the exit that leads toward the cafeteria.

“I can’t believe you...puppet-mastered us,” Jaehyun’s voice is airy with disbelief.

“I can’t believe you guys didn’t realize what was going on,” Taeyong snickers on the walk over. Doyoung snorts while lacing their fingers together.

“Yeah, the whole team was in on it.”

“You guys are one to talk.” Donghyuck turns back to give the two boys a humbling once over. “Don’t get me started on how hard it was to get you two losers together.”

Doyoung stops in his tracks, nearly tripping Taeyong in the process. 

“What?”

[heyhey-heyward]

NO I DON’T | part two

series masterlist

summary: In which you realize that maybe you have feelings.

word count: 2.7k

let me know what you think!

The next morning found Kiara at your house as you got ready, waiting for John B to pick you both up in his van for the day's adventures. She was laying on your bed, scrolling through her phone as you bounced around to get dressed.

“Oh my god, did I tell you what John B asked me last night?” You stepped out of your closet once you finished getting changed out of your pajamas and looked at Kiara, who shook her head. “He asked me if I had a thing for JJ.”

“Well?” She looked at you expectantly, and you furrowed your brows.

“Well, what?” You repeated, confusion evident in your tone. She scoffed, the grin she was wearing a bit too smug for your liking.

“Do you have a thing for him?” From her tone, it was clear that she thought her question was obvious. Suddenly, the looks she had been sending you over the past couple of days made sense.

“Not you too.” You groaned, dropping your head back in annoyance as you picked up your backpack that held everything you needed for the day. Kiara chuckled at your reaction, climbing off your bed to follow you as you moved to go wait for the boys downstairs. “I promise, there is nothing going on between JJ and I.”

“If you say so.” She shrugged, echoing John B’s statement from the night before. You could tell by her tone and grin that she clearly wasn’t convinced, though you chose not to respond, dropping the subject completely when you entered the kitchen and spotted your mom drinking coffee at the island table.

“Hello, girls.” Your mom greeted you both with a smile. “Have you gotten your Midsummers dresses yet?” Since your parents had grown up on The Cut, they were eager to take part in any events that solidified their Kook status. You, on the other hand, couldn’t care less.

“No, but I was thinking of going tomorrow.” Kiara explained with a smile. What she didn’t say was that she waited so long to get a dress because, just like you, she thought the whole event was ridiculous.

“I’ll go with her.” You told your mom, knowing that was going to be her next question. Shopping with Kiara would mean one less headache and you would be able to enjoy yourself.

“And have you thought about having someone escort you?” She wasn’t being controlling, you could tell from the smile she was wearing that she was simply genuinely curious. Just as you were grabbing a couple granola bars out of the pantry, a familiar honk sounded from the driveway and you knew it was your chance to escape.

“Bye mom!” You called, grabbing Kiara’s arm and racing out of the house. John B’s van was parked exactly where you knew it would be, with Pope in the passenger’s seat and JJ’s head sticking out the sliding door. You climbed in with Kiara in tow, the dark haired girl was grinning mischievously at you.

“Yeah, are you going to have someone escort you?” She teased, reaching out to pinch your cheeks as you slumped into the spot next to JJ. His arm found its way around your shoulders like it usually did, and he was looking between you and Kiara with a confused look.

“Shut up, Kie. I’d rather choke than go with some stuck up Kook.” You rolled your eyes, leaning further into JJ to get away from her. She grinned, settling into her spot across from you as John B pulled out of the driveway.

“Are you talking about Midsummers?” Pope asked over his shoulder. You nodded, rubbing your cheeks that stung a bit from where Kiara pinched them. “I’m supposed to work it with my dad.”

“When is it again?” John B asked. The boys looked to you and Kiara for answers, wondering when their group of five would be knocked down to two.

“It’s in three days, and we have to go dress shopping tomorrow.” Kiara explained as you picked at your nails, clearly bored with the conversation. You felt JJ shift from beside you, drawing your attention and when you met his gaze he was frowning.

“We were supposed to watch C.H.U.D. that night though.” He pouted, and even though he was the best liar of the group, you could see the mischief in his eyes. He wasn’t actually upset, but he would never be one to pass up the chance to tease. You shoved his shoulder playfully while still grinning at his antics.

“Sorry I’ve got to bail on you, we can hang out another time.” You assured him, turning to John B to ask him where he was taking everyone, but you didn’t get the chance to say anything before Kiara spoke up.

“Why don’t you just go to Midsummers with her?” Her question was innocent enough, but coupled with the conversation you had with her minutes earlier, you shot her an exasperated look. Though, the idea of having JJ with you at the event had you significantly more excited for the night. He would be able to make the stuffiest Kook party actually enjoyable.

“Yeah, J, I’ll even rent you a suit and everything. And Kie could bring JB. It’ll be a Pogue takeover.” You nudge him with your elbow, earning a grin from the blonde. The look he gave you, for some unknown reason, sent a shock through your system. You had always known he was attractive, but the sight of his dimple and the lightness in his eyes caught you off guard.

“Maybe I will.” JJ announced, pulling you tighter into his side as he switched his attention to the other three people in the car. John B echoed his sentiment, and as JJ leaned towards the front to make some joke about how Pope was going to have to serve him, Kiara shot you a self-satisfied look that made you roll your eyes.

“John B, where are we even going?” You called, your voice loud enough to carry over JJ and Pope’s back and forth bickering. You met the brunette’s gaze through the rearview mirror, noting the mischievous gaze that told you that he was up to something.

“We’re having a kegger tonight.”

A few hours and one free lunch from Kiara’s family restaurant The Wreck later, John B dropped you and JJ off at the store to pick up some last minute items for the party.

“I can’t believe I got put on cup duty.” JJ complained, grabbing the large package of red solo cups off of the shelf. You rolled your eyes, grabbing an extra pack to make sure there was enough.

“I’m on babysitting duty, so it could be worse.” You teased, ruffling his hair as you flashed him a grin and walked ahead of him.

“Oh, so we’re being mean now, are we?” He called, trailing after you. You could hear the smile in his voice, and when you glanced at him over your shoulder your suspicions were proven true. You nodded at his statement, only realizing your mistake seconds later when his arms came around your middle and he spun you around, fingers digging into your sides to tickle you.

You didn’t hear the cups hit the ground as you both dropped what you were carrying over the sound of your laughter. JJ’s arms were around you, keeping your back pressed to his chest as you tried to squirm out of his hold. Eventually he dropped you, and you immediately spun to face him, swatting his shoulder as he laughed loudly and you tried to catch your breath.

And then it hit you.

A stampede of butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you watched JJ giggle uncontrollably at his own actions. Your whole body felt warm, and everywhere JJ had just been touching you was tingling. It was as if everything you had ever known was coming into question and you weren’t sure you would be able to tell up from down. But worst of all—John B was right.

You had a thing for JJ.

You were dragged out of your thoughts by JJ waving his hand in front of your face, calling your name. You forced a smile, embarrassed that you had been caught zoning out as you thought about how you could have gone so long without realizing your feelings for one of your closest friends.

“You good?” JJ asked, picking up the cups from the ground. You nodded, clearing your throat as you made a bee-line for the cashier. The old man working the register shot you an annoyed look, clearly not the happiest with the fact that you had been so noisy just moments before.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” You said, way too quickly for you to be actually fine. You could tell JJ wasn’t convinced, but he kept his mouth shut as you paid and he followed you out of the store with the cups in hand. Originally, the plan had been for JJ to come to your house and hang out for a while, but at the moment all you needed was to put some distance between yourself and the blonde haired boy who’s gaze was making it hard for you to breathe properly. “Actually, I just remembered that I promised my parents I’d help them with something today, so I’ve got to head back.”

“Do you want me to help too?” He asked, and you silently cursed him for being such a kind person. You probably wouldn’t be in this mess if he wasn’t such a secret softie towards his friends. Plastering on the biggest smile you could muster you chuckled, internally cringing at the sheer awkwardness of it all.

“Is JJ Maybank offering to work?” You teased, ignoring the confused look he gave you or the way your voice was a few octaves too high to be normal. You started to walk backwards in the direction of your house, shooting him one last wave. “I’ll see you at the party.”

If this was how you were going to act around him from now on—you were in trouble.

You arrived at The Boneyard that night after the party had already started and Pogues, Kooks, and Tourons alike were already drinking. After your little freakout at your house, you had calmed down significantly and convinced yourself that you’d be able to act normally around JJ, because it was just JJ, one of your best friends since the third grade when John B introduced the two of you.

You spotted your group of friends sitting around one of the many small bonfires that littered the small stretch of beach dedicated to parties. You head towards them instead of the keg, not wanting to deal with the group of Kooks that currently surrounded it. You swung an arm around Pope’s shoulders as you dropped into the spot on the log beside him, interrupting his story about something his dad had told him as a cheer of your name sounded from the group. You smiled at them, ignoring the way your heart skipped a beat as your gaze momentarily landed on JJ.

“Where have you been? I thought you weren’t going to show.” John B teased with a grin. You went to give him some comeback about how you weren’t sure you would have been able to stomach one more party with him, but JJ’s voice added onto the brunette’s comment.

“Yeah, after you freaked out and bailed on me this afternoon.” He remarked, punctuating his sentence with a drag of the blunt he had rolled for the party. You felt your smile morph into a grimace, and to avoid meeting anyone’s questioning looks, you stared into the fire.

“My mom has been freaking out about Midsummers, she wanted me to help her pick out a dress today.” You lied. It was clear that something was up, but nobody questioned you as John B rose from his seat, extending a hand to pull you to your feet.

“Come on, let’s get you a drink.” He explained, leading you through the crowd and towards the now-empty keg. “So are you going to tell me what’s really going on? Because I’ve already seen the dress your mom picked out for Midsummers, like, two weeks ago.”

You cringed, embarrassed to be caught in a lie. Your silence must have told John B all that he needed to know, because it was seconds later that his grin widened and he was laughing at you.

“Oh my god, you do have a thing for him!” John B called out, much too loudly for your liking. You shot forward, slapping a hand over his mouth to keep him quiet. He leaned back out of your touch, shooting you a grin as he finally moved to fill a cup for you. “I knew it. So, what happened? JJ didn’t say anything—”

“Nothing happened, John B! I just kinda, freaked out and left.” You sighed exasperatedly, tilting your head back in annoyance. You knew nothing would stop him from teasing you, you certainly wouldn’t hold back if you were in his position, but he also wouldn’t cross any lines.

Still, he wasn’t the best secret keeper once he had a few drinks in him.

Your solution to your John B problem had been to stick by his side the entire night. It wasn’t far from what you usually did at parties, but you also had been avoiding JJ as best you could—which, you couldn’t remember the last time you put so much distance between yourself and the blonde.

A few refills later and you were feeling loose, your mind able to wander other places instead of being stuck on the fear that JJ might find out how you felt. You had been messing around with John B, and somehow had ended up climbing onto his back.

“JB, I swear, if you drop me…” Your threat was empty as you trailed off, earning a loud laugh from John B.

“You’re the one that asked for a piggy back ride.” He teased, and you shut him up by holding your cup up to his lips to give him a sip. He went back to his conversation with Pope and Kiara after, and you zoned out as you felt a pair of eyes on you. Glancing up, you found JJ staring at you and John B with an annoyed expression, not giving the time of day to the Touron that was clearly trying to flirt with him.

You furrowed your brows in confusion, wondering what could have upset him. You entertained the idea that it was because you were ignoring him, and that made a heavy weight settle in your stomach.

���I’ll be right back.” You told John B, interrupting whatever story he was telling. You pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before he set you on your feet, and you made your way through the crowd to where JJ was standing. His expression only seemed to get more sour, and you briefly contemplated turning back. You steeled your nerves and ignored the fluttering in your chest as you stood before him. “Hey, are you all right?”

“‘M fine.” He grunted, even less convincing than you had been earlier. And while you had lied because you were overwhelmed with a slew of new feelings towards one of your closest friends, he was lying because something was making him mad.

“J, what’s wrong?” You continued. Usually, you were pretty good at reading what upset JJ, from Kooks to his father, you knew him well. This time, it was as if there was a wall between you and him and you weren’t sure why he had built it up.

“Why don’t you go back to John B?” JJ wasn’t even looking at you as he spoke, his gaze trained on the cup he was squeezing too tight to be normal. You were shocked at the accusation he was making, that there was something going on between you and your oldest friend. You huffed, annoyed that he was being so difficult. You would have corrected him, but you had a stubborn streak as well, and just wanted to enjoy the party. So instead, you dished out the attitude that he gave you, before turning back to where John B, Kiara, and Pope were waiting for you.

“Get over yourself, JJ.”

—

taglist:

@pixelated-pogues​ @obx-direction-sos​ @emptycanvasposts​ @rudethchalamet​ @drizzlethatfalls​ @obxlife​ @fangirlvoice​ @jayjaymaebank​ @k-k0129​ @starryblueeyesandstarryblueskies @perfektionsmakel​ @teamnick​ @sspidermanss​ @jjs-housekeeping​

(names with a strikethrough did not work)

[winryofresembool]

Caleo fic: It’s all about the name

Chapters 3-4(/5)

Summary: Calypso is a barista at a coffee shop and one day she gets a customer who refuses to give her his real name. At first he seems really annoying but eventually Calypso finds out not all is what it looks like on the surface. (Coffee shop AU!)

a/n: More updates! Only one more to go after these two chapters that I'm posting today. I would have loved to make this au even longer but time is a b*tch and I'm really itching to continue working on twlitf already.

Hope you enjoy and please do leave me comments because even if I have almost finished this fic, I definitely want to know what you guys think!

Words: 3,6k+

Genre: fluff, humor

Warnings: none

previous chapters / AO3 

...

The next day, the ‘Bad Boy Supreme’ showed up at the coffee shop just like he had promised. He didn’t have to ask for Calypso because she spotted him from afar, being rather easy to recognize. They didn’t have a lot of customers wearing an army jacket over an orange shirt, tools hanging from the pockets, and the bottom half being the work coveralls. At least he had left his backpack home this time, Calypso sighed with relief. She couldn’t deny, though, that in a weird way that outfit suited him. As she saw him more closely, she noticed he seemed pretty cheerful, which was probably a good sign. Or then he was just preparing to annoy her some more and was already looking forward to that. Calypso supposed she’d find out soon enough.

Either way, she stepped closer to the counter so the ‘Bad Boy Supreme’ could see her better.

“So you did come,” she greeted him and he gave her that annoying grin of his that seemed to come so naturally.

“Why, of course,” he responded. “Couldn’t possibly have missed the opportunity to see the Sunshine again.”

“Are you flirting with me? Because I swear, if you are, it’s not going to work,” Calypso told him bluntly, still having her latest relationship too fresh in her mind.

“That’s crazy talk,” the guy responded, putting his hand over his chest. “How would I even dare to flirt with you? You’re way out of my league.”

“Out of your league? Uh, I don’t know about that,” Calypso mumbled, more to herself than to him. The broken relationships had left a mark on her self esteem and she didn’t consider herself as someone to be looked up to.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you,” the guy said, looking confused.

“Um, nothing,” Calypso tried to brush it off. “It was not relevant. But enough with that; what are you going to order? Remember, it’s on the house. Do you want the double espresso you ordered yesterday or something else?”

“I’d rather have something else,” the guy said, his gaze going back and forth between Calypso and the menu. “Truth to be told, I’m not big on coffee. I’ve noticed it makes me even more hyper than I already am. ADHD and all that good stuff, you know. Yesterday was a special occasion because I had to work overtime.”

“Alright, what will that something else be then?” Calypso asked, feeling that a lot of things about this guy already made more sense.

“Anything with no caffeine would be good. What would you rec? You’re the expert on your menu, after all,” he noted.

“Do you like sweet things?” Calypso asked.

“Sweet is fine, yeah,” the guy agreed. 

“Then how about hot chocolate? We’re pretty generous with the whipped cream we add on it,” Calypso promised. “And we can even add marshmallows if you like those.”

“I think just the cream will be fine, don’t wanna be in a complete sugar coma when I need to go back to work,” the guy noted. “To go, by the way. I can’t stay long.”

“Fine, one hot chocolate without marshmallows coming then. Will you finally tell me your name?” Calypso asked.

“Super-sized McShizzle,” the guy replied without missing a beat.

“Just when I thought that you might be an OK guy after all…” Calypso said but the tone of her voice told she wasn’t being serious.

“What’s life without some mystery, Sunshine?” He smiled at her and Calypso wondered briefly what the hell this conversation was about really.

“Yeah, what indeed?” she responded. Then she realized that the silly conversation had been going on long enough for a small queue form behind the guy. “Well, Johnny.” His mouth twitched when she said the new made up name. “Your hot chocolate will be waiting for you at the other counter in a minute. And I hope you won’t scare me so much this time that I’ll drop the drink.”

“Will try to not do that.”

The Super-sized McShizzle or Bad Boy Supreme moved to the other counter, and as Calypso was shaking the canned whipped cream, she was still playing the conversation in her head. For an outsider it probably seemed like they were being rude to each other. But Calypso thought she had learned to read this stranger a bit better already and guessed he actually enjoyed their bickering - and she had to admit that some part of her enjoyed them as well. Drawing a small heart after the made up name Johnny, she finally approached him at the counter and managed to deliver the hot chocolate without messing anything up. ‘Johnny’ took it gratefully but he gave her a funny look when he read his name on the cup.

“Aw, you even drew a heart there!” He noted. “I am starting to think you have started warming up to me.”

“No way. You? Why would I do that?” Calypso raised her eyebrow questioningly, but it probably wasn’t very effective thanks to her red cheeks.

“Because all the ladies love…” he checked his name from the cup again. “Johnny?”

“You should learn to know when to stop,” Calypso warned, rolling her eyes, but her mouth betrayed her.

“Oh c’mon, your mouth just twitched. I saw it,” the guy said. Then he took a swig from his cup and hummed approvingly. “Yup. This is the stuff. Not bad, Sunshine, I would definitely drink this again.”

“I’m glad you like it, especially since it’s supposed to be my apology to you.”

“In that case, apology accepted.” ‘Johnny’ wiped his mouth and checked the clock on the wall. “Well, I won’t bother you more this time because Jo is expecting me to be back at the garage any minute now. I was surprised she allowed me to come here in the first place but she seemed to think it’s good for me to meet new people. Apparently I spend too much time at work. But oh well, if I want to buy a car I need to save a lot of money…”

“That’s why you’re working overtime?” Calypso asked curiously.

“Yeah… I’ve been moving from place to place almost my whole life so at least owning a car would make it easier… Unless I find some reason to stay somewhere.” He shrugged, looking more serious than he had the whole time he’d been there. “I don’t know. But yeah, I should get going now. Maybe I’ll see around some time, though.” His smile returned. “This place is definitely better than I first thought.”

“Yeah, maybe I will see you around,” Calypso said, feeling a bit flustered again. It seemed that there was a lot more to this stranger’s story than she had first imagined. The small glimpses of the reality behind his jokes gave her a picture of a restless, unsure young man who was still looking for his place in the world. That piqued her interest and made her wish she really would see him again.

…

The mystery guy started visiting the coffee shop regularly during his breaks. After a couple of weeks Calypso already knew that his boss was called Jo and she was married to a woman called Emmie who handled the flower shop side of the business and they had an adoptive daughter Georgina. Even though the mystery guy hadn’t stayed in town for more than a couple of months so far, he seemed to have formed a strong bond with these people and especially adored the little Georgie whom he treated almost like a sister. Calypso also knew that the guy’s best friends were called Jason and Piper but unfortunately they were currently studying in another town so he couldn’t see them that often. He also had a pet lizard called Festus who apparently liked to nibble pretty much everyone except his fingers. Despite knowing all of that, there was still something Calypso didn’t know about him.

“Let’s play the game: guess my name,” the ‘Bad Boy Supreme’ suggested one time when he was ordering a soda.  “What do you think?”

Calypso thought about it for a moment. “Alright. Mike? Chris? Alex? Peter? Luke?”

“No, no, no, no and no,” he answered without hesitating, his mouth curled up with amusement.

“Ed? Sebastian? Jake? Thomas? Leon?” Calypso kept throwing in random names that came to her mind.

“Still no to all,” the mystery guy shook his head. “Although those were not half bad guesses. I wouldn’t mind being called Ed. A character in one of my favorite animes is called that and he’s quite a badass.”

“You watch anime?” Calypso asked curiously. “I wouldn’t have guessed that about you.”

“Well, I’m full of surprises.” He smirked before turning more serious. “Um, truth to be told, Georgina keeps ranting about her favorite animes when she’s hanging out at the garage with me and one time I just decided to binge watch some of them to be able to keep up with her. Turns out some of them are actually quite solid. Like this Fullmetal Alchemist. Ahem, but that probably isn’t interesting to you so I’ll stop now.”

“No, don’t worry about it!” Calypso reassured him. “I like hearing about your interests. I am not that familiar with anime but maybe some time you can recommend something to me to watch when I have more free time.”

“Yeah, maybe.” The guy smiled before turning a bit hesitant. “Um, I know you’re probably busy and stuff but I have a free chair at my table if you happen to be in need of a break. Just sayin’, but it’s OK if you can’t.”

Calypso was surprised that he asked so bluntly. The truth was that a bit before his appearance she had already considered taking a break so the timing was good enough and she decided to accept his offer. It was a quiet moment at the coffee shop so her coworkers were fine with it as well.

“You know now that I watch anime but what about your interests?” the ‘Bad Boy Supreme’ asked once they had settled down at an empty table. “What do you do outside this coffee shop?”

“You really want to know?” Calypso questioned.

“Of course I do!” he said immediately. “I’ve revealed quite a bit about myself so it’s your turn now.”

Calypso felt a bit hesitant about talking about personal stuff, possibly afraid her mystery customer would judge her. “I, um… I have a mini garden on my balcony… I grow some edible plants there. I also enjoy reading because it's a good distraction from some unwanted thoughts.”

“I can relate to that,” the guy confessed but didn’t elaborate. Calypso wondered briefly what he may have wanted distraction from.

“Yeah…” she said instead of asking more because she doubted he would have liked that. “When I was a kid, I used to do a lot of music related things, like sing, play the piano and stuff like that but I stopped at some point because my father seemed to think it’s a waste of time. So, yeah. I was pretty upset about that. Who knows, maybe when I have more money I’ll be able to take more classes again… Lately I’ve been trying to express myself by painting, though, because watercolors are luckily cheap and I really needed something to do after…” She stopped when she realized she was about to reveal too much.

“After what?” the guy wanted to know.

“I don’t even know your name so I have no idea why I’m telling you this… but I guess it can’t hurt. I can trust you, right?”

“Of course!” her chat mate assured.

Calypso sighed before continuing. “I recently broke up with someone with whom I had been in quite a long relationship. Yeah, looking back to it, maybe it was for the best because clearly he wasn’t as invested as I was, but it still hurt to hear that he wanted to break up with me because there was someone else in his life. So, that’s why I’ve needed more distractions lately.” When she saw his serious expression, she rushed to add: “Don’t worry about me, though, I’m fine. I’ve already accepted that this is how it is. Trust me, it’s better that way. But it explains why I was so grumpy on that day we met.”

“Oh, OK. Sorry about that guy. I think he made a big ass mistake there but unfortunately some of us can be kinda blind… Hey, what are you staring at?” he asked when he noticed her watching him weirdly. In reality, Calypso had felt a small, unexpected tug at her heart because of his niceness but she tried to cover it by shaking her head.

“Nothing. Sorry. I was just thinking about something. But I should get back to work, the coffee isn’t going to serve itself.”

“I guess it isn’t. Well, talk to you later,” the guy said but from the corner of her eye Calypso could see that he was probably wondering what had just happened there.

Chapter 4

Time passed, but some things didn’t change:

“So… when will you finally reveal your name to me? We’ve known each other for several weeks now and you’re still being so mysterious,” Calypso noted one day when the ‘Bad Boy Supreme’ showed up at the coffee shop again. Like earlier, she had asked her coworkers if she could have her break so she could talk with him and they had accepted her request but given each other funny glances behind Calypso’s back, as if saying ‘we know what you are doing here’.

“I will do that when you finally call me Bad Boy Supreme instead of Johnny or Ben or David or whatever fake name you come up with each time.” He just smirked at her and Calypso 100% expected him to keep his word.

“No. That’s the one thing I cannot do, you weirdo,” she said stubbornly.

“Alright, then no can do,” he teased.

Calypso did continue asking him about other things, though, and got some answers.

“Why did you want to become a mechanic? Is it just because cars are cool or did you have some deeper reason for that?”

“Actually, my dream is to become a mechanical engineer so I get better tools to invent - and fix - all sorts of things, not just cars, but at the moment I don’t have enough money to go to college. So, I’m working to save up for that too, not just for the car. I know, sounds like a mission impossible. I will have to work about ten thousand years to save that much. I’ve just… always enjoyed building and fixing things, ever since I watched my mum do that when I was a kid… It’s in my blood.”

“Oh… then your mum must be proud that you want to follow her footsteps!” Calypso said gently, but the guy’s expression darkened.

“Yeah… maybe she would be… if she was still alive.”

“Oh no!” Calypso covered her mouth with her hands when she realized her mistake. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed…”

“It’s OK,” he sighed. “I’m starting to get used to it.”

There was a moment of silence before Calypso asked: “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but… when did it happen?”

The guy looked at her darkly. “I was 8 then… So over 10 years ago. Not exactly breaking news anymore. Been going from home to home since then until I got old enough to live on my own; my dear dad didn’t care about me enough to keep me.”

“Wow… I’m sorry… You just give me such a happy and outgoing picture of yourself that I couldn’t imagine… ugh, just ignore me, please. I need to stop rambling now,” Calypso said with embarrassment, blushing slightly.

The guy surprised both Calypso and himself by what he did next: he reached for her hand to reassure her.

“Hey, relax. I only told that to you because you seem like someone I can trust. Not a lot of those people in my life. But yeah, there’s no need to be embarrassed; you couldn’t have known.”

“Oh… I guess I should be honored then. Since you were honest with me, I’m gonna be too: I didn’t exactly have the best of childhoods either. My parents fought a lot before breaking up and my dad… he could be scary when he wanted to. He had to get things done his way and if he didn’t like something… he’d let us know, loudly. I guess some of my temper issues may stem from there.”

“Still thinking about that time when you yelled at me?” the guy asked. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not afraid of you.”

“That’s good to hear,” Calypso laughed nervously, tugging a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Anyway, when my parents got divorced, my father insisted I live with him instead of mum and that did not end up going well. His idea of good parenting was buying me expensive things I didn’t care about, while I could tell that in reality he couldn’t care less if I was there or not. He just wanted to humiliate my mother. I ended up moving out as early as possible, but that’s a whole other story…”

“And that’s why you’re working here now?” The Bad Boy Supreme wanted to know. “Because you desperately needed money? I mean, no offense, but I get a vibe from you that you don’t actually enjoy working here.”

Calypso glanced at her surroundings, making sure none of her coworkers and especially not the manager could hear her answer. Then she sighed. “Yeah. You’re not wrong. I did have some dreams when I was younger but… it’s like you said, it would take me about ten thousand years to be able to afford studying. The rent here isn’t free and I don’t even want to think about the college tuitions. Obviously my dad could afford them easily but I’m not going to stoop so low that I would ask him. I am not going to owe anyone, especially not him.”

The ‘Bad Boy Supreme’ gave her an approving half smile. “I see we have something in common, after all. We both have dreams that seem to be hard to achieve. And I definitely wouldn’t want to owe to my no good old man either. And families… Those can be bitches. But not something bad if not something good; thanks to my round around the country I feel like I may have finally found a place where I could maybe picture myself staying more than just a few months. The coffee here isn’t half bad and the people are decent too.” He winked at her, and she knew his words were actually quite a big compliment from him. Despite that, she pretended to be annoyed by his comment, putting her hands on her waist. 

“Not half bad? I don’t even remember you ordering coffee since that little incident – and you didn’t get your coffee back then - so how can you have an opinion on it?”

“That’s the thing, I didn’t get my coffee so that’s why it’s only ‘not half bad’ and not the ‘best coffee I’ve ever had’” he smiled at her smugly. “However, the hot chocolate was definitely worth getting yelled at.”

Calypso hated how contagious his smile was but she couldn’t help but smile back at him. “I’m glad to hear that.”

They were silent for a moment before the guy started: “Hey, listen… would you like to…”

His question was interrupted, though, because a customer nearby started causing ruckus, claiming the tea water was too cold (even though Calypso knew her coworkers always made sure it was hot enough) and the piece of cake was dry (even though someone had cut fresh pieces like half an hour ago) and she wanted her money back. Reyna was serving her and trying to politely say that she was sorry the customer felt that way and that they’d make sure to do better the next time, but the customer wouldn’t listen. Calypso could tell Reyna’s patience was running thin so she decided to finish her break then and there and go to help, but she had only managed to stand up from her chair when she noticed that she wasn’t the only one wanting to defend the honor of their coffee shop.

“Hey, you,” ‘Bad Boy Supreme’ said loudly, addressing the woman who had complained. “Don’t like, don’t buy. It’s as simple as that. There are other places where you can get your low fat cake with extra cream on the top that will surely match your interests better.”

The woman just glared at him, going slightly red from her face, before dramatically turning away and leaving the coffee house. Calypso sighed of relief, thankful that nothing worse happened.

“That wasn’t really necessary, you know,” she tried to scold her companion but the attempt was half hearted. “I’m sure Reyna would have been able to handle it.”

“Oh, yeah, I don’t have a doubt about that,” he said. “But sometimes it’s fun to let those privileged douches hear it. You guys are just too polite. Well, most of the time. I guess some customers do have a way to crawl under your skin but that requires special talent.” He grinned at her in a way that may have tried to be flirty but failing.

“Oh, yeah, a special talent indeed,” Calypso confirmed, throwing her long braid over her shoulder. “I’m the epitome of patience, as we know. Well, I should get back to work now; my coworkers are probably waiting for me already.” She looked at Reyna apologetically but she didn’t seem to mind one bit. “It was nice talking to you, though, Raymond.”

“That’s the best you can come up with? C’mon, you can do better than that,” ‘Raymond’ protested but waved her a goodbye with a big smile on his face. Calypso gave him a shy smile back.

[just-jordie-things]

Drunken love confession w Sarah

this is so on brand for me i love it.  this definitely got out of hand fast and is a lil long for a blurb. ___

Sarah was a fairly affectionate person when she was sober.

So when she was plastered that amplified by about a million.  Or at least it felt like it.

You and the group had thought it would be nice to have a little bonfire.  Play some music, drink, mess around, smoke, the usual dumb shit that you all did for fun.

All of you had too much to drink, it wasn't just Sarah, but Sarah was the only one who was cuddling up to you like a sleepy child.

She’d moved to sit next to you in front of a log, and next thing you knew, she was wrapping her arms around you and leaning completely against your side, her head weighing down on your shoulder.

You didn’t mind- it made your heart skip a beat- but you didn’t mind.  She was a sleepy and affectionate drunk.  So you let her lay on you for most of the night.

Thing was, you had never planned on befriending Sarah Cameron.  She was was the Kook Princess after all, and you were just another Pogue on The Cut.  But when John B became friends with her, he swore up and down that the rest of you would love her too.

He was right.

The day you met Sarah, you were planning on keeping your walls up, you were planning on her being a bitch.  But what actually happened was the complete opposite.

She was 100% sweetheart, through and through, and now she was arguably your best friend.  (Don’t tell John B)

However, befriending Sarah Cameron wasn’t the only thing you hadn’t planned on.

You definitely hadn’t planned on catching feelings for her.  Romantic feelings. Strong romantic feelings.  They took you by surprise, not because she was a girl and you’d never really crushed on a girl before, but because she was a girl you grew up believing hated you, and suddenly she was the closest person in your life.

You kept these feelings to yourself, no one knew.  Not John B, not Kiara, not even your diary.  You were too scared of them to let them out of your own head.  So it was your tiny little secret.

“Hey,” Sarah whispered in your ear, drawing you out of your thoughts as you glanced down at her.

She had a big goofy grin on her lips, and her eyes were hooded.  She blinked slowly, like they were too heavy to keep them open.

“Wanna make a grilled cheese?” She asked, still whispering.  Her eyes widened with excitement for just a moment before she was back to sleepy blinking.

You were pretty drunk yourself, so grilled cheese sounded divine.

“Abso-fucking-lutely” You whispered back, mirroring her grin.

Next thing you know you were getting up, pulling Sarah up with you and letting her lean on you as you walked away from the bonfire and back towards John B’s house.

Halfway there you realized you probably should have told the group you were leaving, you weren’t sure if you said anything.  The last half hour was kind of a haze in your mind.

Sarah cheered when you made it to the house, and you began the prep for your sandwiches.

“How many do you want?” You asked, watching as she struggled to pull herself up onto the counter.

Unfortunately Sarah wasn't able to handle the task of answering your question and getting up on the counter, so you had to lift her up and sit her down so she would answer you.

“Ten! No, two, probably” 

You laughed at her, nodding your head.

“Two it is, princess” 

She put her head in her hands and watched you with heart shaped eyes as you made the simple snack.

You laughed when you caught her staring, flipping over one of the sandwiches.

“You’re drooling” You teased.

The girl quickly shot up, her hand reaching up to her mouth, wiping lazily at her lips.

“I am not” She declared after her inspection.  You laughed some more, and she laughed with you.  Not because she thought it was funny, your laugh was just contagious to her.

Sometimes even thinking about it she would giggle quietly, but she’d never admit that, especially not to you.

It felt like hours but eventually you handed her a plate with two grilled cheeses on it, and her face lit up like you’d just given her a priceless gift.

“They’re beautiful (y/n)!” She cheered as she took the plate.

You chuckled, leaning against the counter next to her as you ate the sandwich you’d made for yourself.

It was silent for a couple minutes as you both scarfed down your food like it was your last meal.

Sarah was swinging her legs below her, but at some point she’d stopped and wrapped her legs around your thigh, crossing her ankles so that you wouldn’t move.  You’d laughed (making her giggle too) but neither of you said anything.  You just chalked it up to Sarah being drunk and affectionate again.

When you finished eating, she yawned, and told you she wanted to go to bed.

“Do you want to go home? I can call you a cab or something,” You offered.  “Or I can walk you home-”

“Can I just stay the night with you?” She asked softly, and you nodded in agreement.

Unlike the others, Sarah didn’t practically live at the Chateau.  JJ stayed in the guest room, Pope and Kie fought over who shared the extra space in John B’s bed, and you stayed on the pullout sofa most nights.  Sarah usually went back to the Figure Eight to sleep in her own bed.

You didn’t blame her, you’d spent the night in that bed once.  You had no idea why she’d rather stay on the shitty pullout mattress than in that luxurious fluffy warm King-Sized bed.

You reached your hands out to her, silently offering to help her off the counter, but instead she re-wrapped her legs around your hips, and her arms curled around your neck.

She didn’t say anything, she just expected a piggy back ride, and who were you to refuse anything that she wanted?

So you hooked your arms under her thighs and hoisted her up to rest comfortably on your back as you walked out to the living room.

It was kind of difficult to move the couch cushions and pull out the bed with her on your back, but you would never in a million years complain to her. 

Finally, when you’d set up the pillows and blankets, you carefully helped her down into bed.

She sighed delightedly as she wrapped the blankets around herself, before wiggling closer to you while you did the same.

You weren’t expecting her to lean forward and kiss your nose, but you weren't complaining.  You just laughed and hoped that she didn’t notice how red your cheeks were.

But what she said next came out of nowhere.

“I’m in love with you” 

It came out in a soft whisper, followed by a sigh, while she just stared at you admirably.

“Wh-what?” 

“I’m in love with you,” She said again.  “You know, like, I like you” 

“Like and love are pretty different things” You told her, trying to brush it off and not get your hopes up.  She was still pretty trashed after all.

“Well, I like you and I love you” Sarah said matter-of-factly.

You blinked, and opened your mouth to say something, but you didn’t know what to say to that.  Your heart was beating so hard you thought it might burst out of your chest, and you wanted nothing more than to return the words back to her, but you had no way of knowing if she meant it.

“You’re pretty drunk, Sarah” You mumbled instead.

Her brows furrowed and her lips pursed slightly, and you had to admit the pout was adorable.

“What’s that got to do with it?”

“You don’t know what you’re saying-”

“I do too, I’m telling you I love you, I’m confessing my feelings,” She told you, trying her best to make a serious face.

She wiggled closer to you, tentatively reaching for your hand, and interlocking your fingers together.

“I mean it,” She whispered.  “I’ve kinda had a crush on you for a while... but I love you, I know I love you” 

She grinned brightly, proud of herself for admitting her feelings, and eager to hear your response, because she had a feeling that you felt the same way.

You couldn’t bite your lip hard enough to keep yourself from grinning widely, excitedly, and love-sickeningly.

“I’ve got a crush on you too,” You confessed in a whisper.  “I love you too” 

Sarah giggled delightedly, murmuring a soft ‘yay’ before squirming in closer to you, laying her head on your chest as her legs tangled with yours.

You hadn’t thought she’d ever feel for you what you feel for her- but you’d never thought you’d fall so deeply in love with Sarah Cameron.

[xwaywardhuntress]

Family Don’t End In Blood (Part Eight)

Summary: What’s the damn plan Jack Belphegor?

Pairings: Dean x reader

Warnings: Season 15 spoilers, language

Word Count: 3900+

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. This is fanfiction only. Please do not redistribute my writings on other sites, horrible or not. Thanks!

Author’s Note: This series is a season 15 rewrite with reader inserted.

Catch Up: Part One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven

The plan to save Kevin seemed pretty simple. Dean and Sam would show up to meet Jack the Ripper and when the timing was right, Rowena would appear with the crystal with Cas and Y/N as back up and help. There was one problem. Rowena and Castiel were adamant that Y/N stay behind and that they could handle it without her. That argument did not go well with the huntress until Dean had agreed with them putting an end to that problem. 

As everyone prepared for the plan, Dean was the last to be ready as he took Y/N aside. “I’m not trying to be a protective asshole, just so you know. But while we’re going to save Kevin, you should watch the kid.” His eyes glanced over at Belphegor who had been standing at the doorframe of the room when the plan was being discussed. The demon had been clear that he shouldn’t join due to being recognizable to the spirits. He had been their torturer, according to him. “After what Ketch said and what you told me you heard from Jack, we need to make sure an eye is kept on him at all times.”

Y/N sighed, knowing that Dean was right. “Yeah, okay. I’ll watch him.” She whispered back.

The older Winchester pressed his lips to her forehead, lingering there for a moment. “Take this…” He gestured downward as he stuffed a pointed object into her jacket pocket. 

She pulled the item out slightly, recognizing the handle of the knife. It was Ruby’s knife. 

When Dean pulled away from her, he rubbed the side of her arms. “Take care and…call me if you need me. I’ll find a way to be there. ” He smiled at her.

She returned the smile. “Same goes for you.”

And then the older Winchester left with everyone else as Y/N was left in the room with Belphegor. 

The demon looked over at her, from what she could assume, as he grinned, “Well, I think I’ll just go find myself something fun to do in the meantime.” 

As the boy was about to leave the room, Y/N cleared her throat, walking over to Dean’s duffel bag as she grabbed a shotgun. “You’re with me. We’re going on a patrol run.”

Belphegor frowned, “If you were actually listening earlier, I’m pretty sure the angel and witch wanted you out of the action…”

“Yeah, well I will be as long as the spell holds. And that’s why you’re coming with me. If the barrier happens to break down for any reason, I expect you to help keep the spirits at bay. After all, you’d want to be proven useful still, right?” She eyed him, touching on the implication Dean shared earlier during the group discussion. The only reason the demon was still around was that the older Winchester found him useful for now. 

The demon wore a straight facial expression as he contemplated her words carefully.

With no snarky response back but agreeing to go with her, Y/N grinned as she cucked the shotgun. “Let’s roll.” 

-

“You’re definitely as stubborn as a Winchester. No wonder you and Dean pair up so well. I do have to admit that I’ve been shipping you too since the stories of you both first started to pour in into hell.” Belphegor complimented.

Y/N rolled her eyes, not enjoying this small talk that had been going on since they first stepped foot out of the school. Now she had wished she would’ve fought harder to join in Kevin’s rescue escapade.  She could tell the demon was trying to get on her good side, and she couldn’t help but think it was for another reason. 

As they turned a corner, Y/N spotted a body on the ground just a few steps past the barrier. Quickly, she ran to it, squatting down and turning the body over. It was Ketch. “Ketch?” She shoved him once before pressing her two fingers on his throat to feel for a pulse. 

There was definitely still a pulse as the man began waking up. He looked up to see the face of Y/N as he pushed himself to stand back up. 

Y/N assisted him by holding him by his arm, “What the hell happened Ketch?”

“I don't quite remember.” He answered a bit incoherently. “I believe I came across a soul but as I took it out, it seemed to have taken me out as well.” He added. 

“Wow, the great Ketch being taken out by a soul. Who knew that’s all it took?” She sarcastically commented. Despite Dean being able to get along with this man, Y/N still wasn’t a big fan.

Expecting a smart remark back, Y/N was met with silence. Instead, Ketch seemed to be checking himself out.

“Uh, are you okay?” She couldn’t help but ask.

“Ah, yes. Splendid.” Ketch smiled at her, a smile not expected. His expression quickly changed to surprise and almost terror when his eyes landed on Belphegor. 

Before Y/N could ask what his problem was, a series of gun shots were heard nearby. Quickly, Y/N ran to where the sounds of gun fire came from as Belphegor and Ketch followed. 

It was then that they ran into the Winchesters, Cas, and Rowena. Dean had been firing shots at what looked like nothing. There were energy bursts that appeared before the group in random spots.

“What the hell is going on?” Y/N yelled over Dean’s shots.

“Hm. It seems the souls are testing the barriers. This looks to be a weak point. Dean seems to be shooting some, but there’s still a lot.” The demon answered.

When Dean decided to stop shooting, he acknowledged the extra heads: Y/N, Belphegor, and Ketch. “How many is a lot?” He asked the demon boy. Belphegor answered that the older Winchester would run out of bullets before he could even get an eighth of the spirits currently present on the other side of the barrier.

Overhearing the demon’s comment, Y/N turned to Sam. “What happened with the crystal? Can we-?” She began to suggest, but Sam interrupted knowing what his friend was thinking. 

“Rowena!” The younger Winchester called out as he made eye contact with the red head, quickly glancing at the crystal in her hands.

Rowena understood what Sam was implying, but before she could react the crystal was stolen away from her by Ketch. Confused and surprised by Ketch’s sudden behavior, Dean was the first to scoff and tell the man to quit messing around. Ketch had replied with a smirk, slowly walking backwards past the magical barrier, as he began to mock the group. The boys questioned him as to why he would want to help the spirits, but it was Y/N who raised her shotgun back up and aimed it at the man with the crystal. She had an inkling feeling that the man speaking before them all was not exactly Ketch and she had that feeling since she first found him lying on the ground earlier.  His current actions were only feeding her suspicions even more. 

As Ketch continued with the unnecessary monologue of how powerful he would be, it was Rowena who figured him out. “Francis…”

The soul in Ketch’s body smiled at the witch. “Hello again, my little witch…” Francis began as other souls appeared beside him.

Y/N did not want to hear any more speeches and with Rowena confirming Ketch was being possessed by a man named Francis, the huntress shot first and asked questions later. Ketch’s body fell to the ground as another older man’s spirit appeared where the body once stood. 

The shot caused the group to look over at Y/N, who shrugged, “What? I’ve had enough bad guy monologue the past week to last me a lifetime and someone had to do it.” 

The crystal had fallen from the body’s hands as it rolled out towards Rowena. She immediately took it back in her possession as she began chanting the spell to absorb the souls. The first soul being captured was Francis as the remaining began scattering to escape from the absorption. 

 “They’re leaving.” Belphegor commented as the crystal’s spell began to stop. From what had just occurred, it was safe to assume that the crystal was not quite the solution they were hoping for. There were too many souls to capture from such a large area and it only increased as time went on. 

“So what now?” Dean turned to ask the group, realizing the soul catcher plan wasn’t that great of an idea either. It looked like it was back to the drawing board.

-

Back at the school, Castiel and Rowena informed Y/N on what had happened with Kevin and the souls. There had been souls that escaped when the Soul Catcher was first activated, including Jack the Ripper, whom Y/N found out was also Francis. Kevin had shared with them all that Francis had a plan B, which led to the encounter at the edge of the magic barrier. And she knew how that ended up. Ketch was sent to the nearest hospital after shooting him with salt ammo and the Winchesters were left with a personal side mission of trying to help Kevin with the help of Belphegor. 

Did Belphegor really know how to close hell? Y/N couldn’t help but think about. Right now, she was beginning to doubt Jack’s words as the demon boy had many opportunities to share how to close hell, especially with the last plan they had not going so well. 

The Soul Catcher wasn’t exactly a failed plan, but it also wasn’t an entirely successful one either. The real issue was the millions upon millions of souls that were escaping hell. Eventually, the crystal would hit its limit and they would still be stuck in the same current situation. They had to do something about hell being open if only Belphegor would share his damn plan already. 

-

“I have an idea.” The demon announced as all eyes but two landed on him. Y/N and Dean looked at one another first. Their eyes silently asking each other if this was finally the moment the demon would spill the beans on how to close hell, that Jack insisted the monster knew.

“Do you know another spell?” It was Sam who asked first.

Belphegor awkwardly grinned, “Not exactly. You all, uh, probably won’t like it, which is why I haven’t brought it up till now. But you all seem like you’re in a reeeal pickle.”

After Belphegor had helped release Kevin from the barrier with the Winchesters and returned to the school, everyone had been non-stop researching a way to close hell again. Rowena had found one spell that would strengthen the existing barrier spell…temporarily again. However, the group had had enough of temporary solutions. And so, they continued to research till they found something more permanent, which was not going well at all. That is until the demon decided to finally speak up.

Y/N crossed her arms while sitting as she stared at the demon boy. “Well spill.”

Dean had stood up from where he sat and walked over, standing behind Y/N’s chair. The others gathered closer as well, surrounding Belphegor.

Belphegor let out a breath of air before smiling, “So you all know Lilith, right? The first demon created by Lucifer, blah, blah, blah, the last seal of the Apocalypse…”

“Get to the point, kid.” Dean ordered, very aware of who Lilith was as Sam narrowed his eyes at the mention of the white-eyed demon.

“Right. Well, as the first demon created, she was given a special item. Let’s call it a crook. Yeah, you know, one of those, uh, curvy ended canes that Shepards use? Little Bo Peep? It doesn’t matter. It’s actually more of a horn. Anyways, when Lilith began sending demons off to Earth to do her bidding, there was a liiii-ttle…” He enunciated, continuing, “….problem. I mean, yeah, she commanded absolute loyalty in Hell, but there was no guarantee that once her minions were topside, that they wouldn’t just take advantage of the situation. She needed to control her flock. So, the Crook was forged. It could retrieve all of Hell’s lost creatures and bring them…” He snapped his fingers. “…straight back home.”

“And why haven’t we heard about this before?” The angel asked, very skeptical about this idea. He wasn’t alone in feeling that way as it sounded too good to be true. If it were real, it was an item that would’ve been super helpful from the very beginning. 

The demon shrugged nonchalantly. “She never needed to use it. When she ruled, it was enough for us that we knew she could. And then when Crowley took over, he had other forms of discipline: endless lines, endless paperwork, etc…He also didn’t spend a whole lot of time down there – with us anyways.”

Now came the real question. “And where is it exactly?” Y/N asked raising a brow. She had a feeling of where it could be, seeing as no one, including Cas had heard about it before. The lack of knowledge about it only meant that it was kept away and most likely in the one place that no one would want to go too. Hell. 

Belphegor turned to face Y/N as he grinned. “Last I heard, it was in Lilith’s chamber, which has been sealed for ages. Now that all the doors of Hell are open, it’s probably just sitting there, ripe for the taking.” He began moving his head as if looking around at each person present in the room. “So the plan would be, I get the Crook, sound the Crook, and we suck all of Hell’s ghosts back into Hell. Then if the witch is feeling up to it, I slam the door shut behind them.” He turned to look at Rowena, as other eyes followed. 

“What is he talking about?” Sam asked, confused with everyone else about the last bit of the demon’s plan. 

The witch’s eyes widened as the demon’s attention fell on her, but she knew what he had been referring too. She’d never admit it, but the fact that this supposedly lower level demon knew of a spell that she had devised on her own was a bit frightening. Just who was Belphegor exactly? As all eyes were on her, she smiled awkwardly, “Well…there’s a spell I know of. One of my own devising. The Sanetur Acre Vulnus. A healing spell of a kind. If this gateway to Hell isn’t a gate at all, but a wound…” A realization that had hit her earlier after the Francis fiasco. “…or a rupture, I can use the spell to undo the damage Chuck did. Ideally, the hole will heal and close itself up. We’d have to time it perfectly.” The redhead looked down for a moment after speaking as if pondering over additional information to share. 

Y/N noticed Rowena’s look but decided she would ask about it later, as well as why the witch had been treating her a bit differently since arriving. The witch had been against the huntress helping out in what seemed like any dangerous situation. A hunter’s life was dangerous 24/7 and usually before, Rowena was glad to have the help of a female hunter rather than male the majority of the time.

As the group contemplated about this plan, there was an issue and possible chance to resolve one additional problem the older Winchester worried about. “Alright, there’s one thing that bugs me with your plan. Let’s say you go to hell, find the crook. How will we know when to start Rowena’s spell?” The older Winchester asked. 

The demon replied with an answer that was not really an answer. “Trust me, you’ll know.”  

If this Crook was real, then it was probably the best plan they had and all of them knew that. As Sam began to inquire about the ingredients Rowena would need for the healing spell, Dean leaned over to Y/N’s ear level. “I think this is our chance, sweetheart.” He whispered, already putting together a plan to keep the demon in hell once the plan went into motion. 

She looked up at the green-eyed hunter as she got out of her chair.  “You’re not going with him.” Y/N all but ordered. She had known Dean long enough to know what he was thinking. 

Before the older hunter could respond, his name was called out by the witch. Y/N and Dean turned to face Rowena. 

“Dean, my dear boy, we will need you to be by the rupture. You will be near the edge to serve as a fulcrum, or carrier.” The witch explained, which caused the older Winchester’s thoughts to change to this new task handed to him. 

“Why me? And where will you be?” Dean asked, staring back at the witch with a questionable look. 

“I will be somewhere safe to do the spell, but near the rupture as well. Dibs on Samuel as my assistant.” She shared.

Dean looked at his brother to confirm if Rowena was serious. Sam smiled awkwardly at him confirming. The older Winchester rolled his eyes, “And what exactly am I a carrier for?”

“Well, to put it in, uh, American action movie terms, you’ll be carrying a bomb, I light the fuse, then you toss it in and boom, the rupture should heal itself.” Rowena brought her hands in a circulation motion to act out the boom as she continued. “You’ll be unprotected. No salt circles and all manner of angry spirits will be right up your grill. But we all know you are more than capable of handling that all.” She smiled at the end. 

“And the angel comes with me.” Belphegor requested, grinning at everyone.

Castiel was taken back by this request as he glared at the demon boy. “Why?”

“I want protection. I’m sorry, but I’m not going down to Hell and getting past all those pissed off ghosts and demons that are maybe loitering down there, and sounding the Crook all by myself.” The demon fussed as Castiel rolled his eyes. The angel did not want to work at all with the demon that much was clear. 

And here was Y/N’s chance. “I’ll go.” She volunteered.

Dean’s initial instincts wanted to stop her, but before he could say something, Castiel beat him to it.

“Absolutely not, Y/N. You are not going into hell.” The angel insisted very firmly.

The older Winchester was surprised by Cas’s sudden disagreement. He had taken notice of the angel’s a bit more protective actions towards Y/N lately, as witnessed earlier when Cas teamed up with Rowena for Y/N to stay behind, which was odd to him. However, Dean also knew Y/N very well and had an idea of what she had planned in mind. She had volunteered herself the same way he had planned too before she had shut him down. Their shared idea to make sure that the demon stayed in hell once it was closed. Just like Jack had stated to her. And so, despite every fiber of him wanting to go against her and agree with Cas, he knew that if it wasn’t him going down with the demon boy, she’d be the next best choice to make sure that happened. 

It was Y/N’s turn to roll her eyes as she looked over at Belphegor, “You said you need protection. I’m the next best fighting machine after the Winchesters. Human fighting machine, of course.  So will I do?” 

The demon stayed silent as he considered her offer. From watching the demon in thought, Y/N couldn’t help but think he would refuse, until he didn’t. “Okay, that works too.”

Cas opened his mouth, about to dispute, but was interrupted. 

“She’s right. She’s the next best hunter after me. ” Dean added, showing that he was okay with this plan, for once. He looked at his brother as he shrugged and smiled. “Sorry Sam.”

Sam glared at his brother’s comment but also knew that it might’ve been true. Y/N was just as reckless, stubborn, and self-sacrificing as Dean. She also did end up almost breaking Dean’s nose when they had first met her way back in the day.

Turning back to look over at Castiel, Y/N couldn’t understand why the angel seemed to be so against her joining again. “Cas, if you have a problem with me going then you’ll just have to come along too.”

The look on the angel’s face was a mixture of disgust, disappointment, and defeat. Again, just like when she had asked him to tag along and part with Jack’s dead body to head to Harlan in the first place, Cas agreed to join her. “Well, it sounds like I don’t have a choice.” The angel couldn’t help but sarcastically comment.

“Go team.” Dean cheered in a fake tone. 

- 

With the Crook plan settled, the next step was to find a spot close enough to the rupture for Rowena to do her spell. As the group arrived back on the same grounds the majority of them once stood only a few days ago, it still surprised them to see the walking dead wandering around aimlessly. There had been some bodies that they had disassembled before that were now not moving. Of course, as the group got closer to the rupture, the amount of undead increased. Each of the wandering souls that had inhabited a dead body seemed to be in their own little world, which was good a thing in a way. The problem was that there were a lot of them and they didn’t want a repeat of last time. 

“So, see any spots to do this spell of yours?” Y/N asked walking beside the witch. They had managed to walk past the undead without creating another huge battle so far. There were some that brushed against them and then reacted by trying to attack them, to which they took out quickly. Instead of the dead body continuing to live, once it was disassembled the spirit seemed to have left and gone elsewhere leaving an empty dead corpse. 

Rowena stepped forward in front of the group as her eyes scanned the surroundings. It then landed on a crypt, very near the rupture. “Ah, that will do.” The witched pointed out. And of course, the crypt she pointed out was an area completely surrounded by the undead. 

“Great. Of course, it’s surrounded by them!” Dean complained.

Before another complaint could be thrown out, Belphegor made his way to the front of the group as he began mumbling words. It sounded like a spell. Within moments, there was a burst of energy that left the demon’s body as it enlarged and passed through all the undead. All the possessed dead corpse immediately fell to the ground. The demon brushed his hands together as if he had finished cleaning, which technically he kind of did. “That should take care of them for now. Let’s head to that crypt.” He pointed onward with a grin. 

Dean and Y/N looked over at each other as they mentally agreed that Belphegor had been holding back on them this whole time. 

Next: Part Nine coming soon!

If you want to be tagged in this series, please leave a comment or message me! Feedback welcome!

FDEIB Tag: (If I missed anyone, please let me know! I’ve been MIA for a while Dx)

@leahslovelylibrary // @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce // @polina-93 // @deanwinchestersmydaddy // @witch-of-letters​ // @rainflowermoon // @rainflowermoonlibrary​ // @carryon-doctor-lock​ // @jxackles​ // @livelovelaug-h​

[gunnerpalace]

YourIchiRuki (Neapolitan Ice Cream): The BattleTech AU

SUMMARY

A very slow burn (500,000+ words just for setup) of Yoruichi, Ichigo, and Rukia trying to figure out how to deal with feelings and making a relationship work in a universe beset by war and political intrigue, as complicated by the fact that they are A. mercenaries, B. members of the nobility, and C. more than a little incredulous as to how they wound up in this mess in the first place, as set within a Bleach-y adaption of the BattleTech setting.

SETTING OVERVIEW

It is the year 3016. The Inner Sphere, a region approximately 1,000 light-years in diameter encompassing some 2 million stars and 2,000 inhabited planets, is split among five Successor States of the defunct Star League, each ruled by a Great House:

The Lyran Commonwealth, ruled by House Kuchiki

The Draconis Combine, ruled by House Shihōin

The Federated Suns, ruled by House Shiba

The Capellan Confederation, ruled by House Fujita

The Free Worlds League, ruled by House Hasegawa

The Periphery and Deep Periphery beyond their reach remain comparatively disorganized. Earth and the Sol System are ruled by ComStar, currently headed by Primus Sōsuke Aizen.

The Third Succession War, one in a series of conflicts waged nominally to restore the Star League, rages onward and is entering its 150th year. It is fought through all available means of combined arms warfare, but the premiere platform of the conflict is the BattleMech, an armored walking war machine piloted by a MechWarrior.

The young Archon of the Lyran Commonwealth, Byakuya Kuchiki (26) has come to learn of the acquisition by the Federated Suns of the so-called Halstead Collection, a trove of Star League-era documents recovered during a military strike against a Draconis Combine staging area that was under construction. Realizing that House Shiba is nearing completion of their New Avalon Institute of Science to study the collection, he devises a plot to infiltrate the institution and gain access whatever secrets might have been found.

The linchpin of his plot is the world of Edo[1], a massively developed commercial and industrial hub. The cosmopolitan nature of Edo provides an easy means of inserting an agent into the society of the Federated Suns who can assume the identity of a native and then work their way onto the staff of the NAIS without raising suspicions. To this end, Byakuya dispatches his "adopted" younger sister, Baroness[2] Rukia Kuchiki (22), on an infiltration and reconnaissance mission, in order that she might prove herself. She is afforded a BattleMech[3] painted in Draconis Combine livery for the sake of additional deception and self-defense should anything go wrong (the Draconis Combine long having had designs on Edo).

After analyzing available data, Rukia decides that the best method of completing her mission and winning his approval is to infiltrate through what she reasons to be the soft underbelly of Edo: its countryside (or what passes for one). She selects the relatively sleepy city of Karakura, on the continent of New Tama, as her entry point.

Unbeknownst to either of the Kuchiki siblings, or indeed anyone in the Federated Suns, this is exactly where a former Duke of the Federated Suns, Isshin Shiba (from a branch of the main Shiba line, and now going under the adopted surname of Kurosaki) chose to flee from his responsibilities and raise a family. Although his wife died tragically some years prior, his son Ichigo Kurosaki (21) is in college, while his daughters (and fraternal twins) Karin Kurosaki and Yuzu Kurosaki (16) are in high school.

Likewise an unknown factor is that Kisuke Urahara (29) and his mercenary company (the Urahara Wild Cards) are in the same place. They have been reduced to the sorry state of having only two pilots, his chief officer (and former Coordinator of the Draconis Combine!) Yoruichi Shihōin (28) and Tessai Tsukabishi (34), as a result of most of the others having decided to go their own way (to form a company of their own called Visored). His company is actively recruiting.

The stage is set for a most curious complex of circumstances to unfold...

INITIAL PLOT SUMMARY

The idea behind this is that, although the setting features mecha, war, and political shenanigans (especially what with at least three people from the Great Houses about), I really wanted to use that as a framework for developing interpersonal relations. So, the general gist of the timeline would be that it starts off sort of like Bleach. 

Rukia shows up in Karakura and starts conducting her mission, but things quickly get out of hand. The canonical Federated Suns present themselves as being as honorable and democratic (or, at least as much so as an aristocratic system could be) but there are still vast wealth inequalities and social stratification in their lands, so my feeling is Rukia sees something or other which flips her chivalric and noblesse oblige switches, and she gets involved (eventually using her 'Mech), which draws the attention of the local military forces.

This results in a Fishbone D-style fight, which Ichigo and his family get dragged into. (Perhaps Rukia's 'Mech winds up being pushed into a residential area as she tries to retreat?) Rukia takes a hit to the cockpit while trying to shield Ichigo, getting injured by some shrapnel, mostly in her right arm. (Whoever she's fighting gets knocked down by her counterattack at the same time.) Ichigo clambers up into the cockpit (probably one side of it being torn open) to try and get to her, and finding her injured, decides he's got to fight in her place after getting her out of the ‘Mech[4].

Since he's the child of a Shiba, Isshin has probably subtly been training him to do something like pilot a 'Mech over time somehow, even if it wasn't obvious that's what it was training for. So, Ichigo is fairly naturally able to work with the 'Mech despite no prior official experience, and manages to take out the opposition without destroying the entire neighborhood in the process. He then passes out from heat exhaustion because Rukia's 'Mech is overheating and he doesn't have any kind of cooling gear on.

This is when Kisuke shows up (as in Bleach), having observed this battle from a distance and sensing an opportunity. He and his team scoop up Rukia and recover both her 'Mech and the Federated Suns one that continued pursuit, basically scouring the place for obvious evidence. Things go from there.

Ichigo wakes up the next morning in bed. Isshin, Yuzu, and Karin are fine (maybe they were knocked out through concussion or falling debris or being thrown against walls or something, but are alright; this is a bit handwavy but whatever, no one really cares that much) and seem to think it was a gas main explosion or something. The authorities are basically covering it up as exactly that. Ichigo remembers, but dismisses it as some kind of nightmare.

Until he meets Rukia on his college campus.

She's been patched up enough to be ambulatory but her arm needs time to recover and she can't pilot properly, and so she enlists Ichigo to help her with her infiltration mission by helping her with school and generally blending in and pretending to be a Federated Suns citizen. He refuses at first, but as she saved his life (and he is rather politically disaffected) and he finds there to be a charm in her notions of what honor and chivalry mean, he eventually comes around and grudgingly assists her. (It later turns out her 'Mech is in the care and repair of Kisuke, who is essentially billing her for the services and making her trade on token favors in the meantime.)

A month passes, much as in Bleach, with Rukia living out of Ichigo's room. During this time they converse quite a lot and grow close (as in Bleach and more especially its live action movie). Rukia comes to appreciate the comparative freedom of life in the Federated Suns (even compared to being a noble in the Lyran Commonwealth) and starts to genuinely doubt her mission and cause, finding them to be incompatible with how she interprets chivalry. During this time, she assists Ichigo in getting revenge on a criminal who was responsible for the death of his mother years prior (Grand Fisher equivalent, probably personal combat rather than a 'Mech fight). This is the final straw in her deciding to desert her mission and go native. She stops sending reports back to the Lyran Commonwealth.

Although Kisuke technically owns the Urahara Wild Cards, the reality of the situation is more complicated. He and Tessai were formerly retainers and subordinates of Yoruichi’s from her time as the Coordinator of the Draconis Combine; when she deserted her post to save them from certain execution (due to a convoluted conspiracy), they all wound up as dishonored ronin. Still, he shows her all due deference (if sometimes playfully) from their former lives. He prefers to take an administrative and executive role, leaving day-to-day operations to her, and logistical matters to Tessai.

It is around this time that Yoruichi returns from elsewhere on the planet, her own independent recruiting efforts in more populated areas not having yielded any results. Finding out what's been going on in her absence (with Kisuke having determined Isshin's real identity in the meantime), she's pretty stunned. (As the former leader of the Draconis Combine, finding out that both the sister of the Lyran Commonwealth's Archon and a plausible claimant to First Prince of the Federated Suns are present on such a world is pretty wild.) She joins Kisuke in taking an immediate interest in this situation, but takes care not to make her presence known around Ichigo or Rukia, reasoning at least the latter might be able to deduce who she is (or rather, used to be).

There is growing involvement from Ichigo's college friends and acquaintances (i.e., Chad, Uryuu, Orihime, Tatsuki) who get drawn into matters for personal reasons. (I'm leaning toward including them for contrast, use as sounding boards and interaction for the mains, additional pilots, and for side stories and subplots.) Of these, Uryuu might have his own (Light) 'Mech[5] already, with the Quincy perhaps being some sort of independence movement or armed militia group. (I find it debatable whether Keigo and Mizuiro should be included, but for once they rather plausibly could be.)

Another month passes, and Rukia decides it's time to leave, having come to reason that her mere presence puts Ichigo and everyone else in direct danger. Unfortunately for her, she is too late: shockingly, Byakuya himself arrives on Edo, along with a rising LCAF military commander, Renji Abarai, in order to retrieve her (again with Draconis Combine-styled 'Mechs). Byakuya has come to view her "failure" as a matter of personal honor.

This is where things start to diverge much more heavily from Bleach. Although Uryuu and Ichigo intervene, their ‘Mechs are no match for Renji's 'Mech[6], let alone Byakuya's[7]. All hope seems lost until Yoruichi, Kisuke, and Tessai deploy into battle in heavy and assault 'Mechs[8]. Suddenly outnumbered 2:5, Byakuya and Renji are forced to withdraw and retreat. However, this skirmish draws the attention of the local military much more heavily than even Rukia's initial actions.

The Urahara Wild Cards immediately make ready to leave the planet, and extend an offer to Ichigo, Rukia, and company to join them. Faced with little choice given the attention about to be brought to bear, Ichigo and Rukia choose to leave, prompting the others to join them too. (Rukia having already been prepared to leave, and Ichigo really not wanting to be apart from her but openly reasoning he was planning to leave home anyway after college. The others perhaps view it as more exciting and amenable than staying behind)

They all depart the planet and, after returning to Kisuke's orbiting DropShip (the Geta-Boshi[9], which is too large to make planetfall) soon also leave the system behind. Although Rukia initially finds the idea of becoming a mercenary distasteful for cultural reasons, a speech by Yoruichi[10], who chooses this moment to properly "introduce" herself, results in the six (or eight) deciding they might as well apply their skills as mercenaries under Kisuke's employ, bringing Urahara Wild Cards up to (at least) two full Lances worth of pilots.

The next several months are spent training and taking odd jobs. The young adults from Edo (Ichigo, Tatsuki, Chad, Orihime, and Uryuu [and maybe Keigo and Mizuiro]) come under the supervision of Yoruichi and Tessai for proper basic 'Mech training. Rukia, having received LCAF training, also gets roped into this as a co-instructor. Ichigo winds up being the star pupil of this program by virtue of his history, although Uryuu is not at all far behind.

They settle on a force structure that roughly balances out relative skill while still affording a strong main team and a good reserve team, yielding Alpha Lance (Yoruichi, Rukia, Ichigo, Chad) and Bravo Lance (Tessai, Uryuu, Tatsuki, Orihime). (If Keigo and Mizuiro are there, they're basically backbenchers until the Urahara Wild Cards get at least two more pilots[11] to form a third Lance, Charlie Lance, which would bring them up to Company strength.)

Rukia and Ichigo continue on much as they had before, on Edo. Although they both, along with everyone else, are issued fairly comfortable and private quarters (owing to the size and nature of the construction of the Geta-Boshi), more often than not Rukia chooses to spend her time in Ichigo's quarters, often falling asleep there. It relatively quickly becomes common for them to share a bed, although their relationship remains nebulous and unofficial; almost everyone else treats them as though they are a couple, but they remain very emotionally and personally intertwined rather than lovers.

The Ichigo-Yoruichi and Rukia-Yoruichi reactions are from the outset established on the basis of mutual respect, but as time goes on admiration, care, concern, and physical attraction start to creep into them. Ichigo winds up often getting additional training and instruction from both Yoruichi and Rukia, though more often from the former. He winds up becoming good friends with Yoruichi off-duty as much as on. They have sort of similar interests and approaches to things, and often wind up talking shop about hobbies or knowledge. Yoruichi and Rukia become fast friends due to a mutual background and lifestyle focus; although the Kuchiki and Shihōin are nominally bitter enemies, it turns out they have a lot more in common than it might first seem. They swap more advanced piloting techniques and train together frequently to keep each other sharp. They also spend time together when off-duty, and in the process also become closer with Tatsuki and Orihime, as there are relatively fewer women aboard the Geta-Boshi and the MechWarriors tend to stand apart from the ship's crew and the engineering staff.

A bunch of little incidents also take place that heighten their growing closeness. Two examples: 1. Ichigo winds up walking into Yoruichi's quarters to ask her a question and accidentally catches her in a state of undress; he retreats in (appreciative) embarrassment, but Yoruichi also realizes she doesn't mind that he saw anything. 2. Yoruichi, deducing during an R&R stop on a planet that Rukia is more than a little repressed, and inexperienced to the point of not even knowing how to please herself, offers to show her how as a fellow woman, then reveals she didn't know what she was doing either the first few times she tried.

If the initial time in Karakura were to take roughly 75 chapters (at about 4,000 words each), then this all would probably take at least another 75 chapters, and probably more.

Eventually, one evening Ichigo winds up joining Yoruichi at the only bar on the Geta-Boshi and they trade stories and talk about themselves and each other (although only he drinks). Yoruichi gradually realizes over the course of the evening that she enjoys the sense of connection they share, and that she genuinely finds him attractive, and has the sense that he feels the same about her. Although she's (very) well aware of Ichigo and Rukia's "not-a-relationship," she's also discerned they're not actually lovers, and although that leaves her a bit conflicted, she still chooses to act on her impulses, reasoning she's not doing anything wrong by pursuing him.

After they leave together, she gets him alone (in his 'Mech rather than in either of their quarters, not wanting to make it about power) and reveals her attraction toward him. Her understanding of her feelings is often physical, and she comes onto him, even though she knows that what she’s feeling isn’t purely lust; it’s something more emotionally meaningful and leaves her vulnerable, and the way she takes control of it is by being a bit forward. Ichigo has a kind of similar attraction and doesn’t fight her, having a sense of her perspective and emotions. They have sex, both wanting and needing it, but it’s not just that, and it’s great. Feeling awkward about just doing it and then going their separate ways, Ichigo goes back to her quarters with her, where (despite some innuendo) they probably just shower and fall asleep together (with maybe more in the early morning). This has been prototyped out as about two chapters.

Although Yoruichi initially only considered the idea of it as being a one-time thing, despite her feelings, it keeps occasionally happening over the next few weeks (maybe about every 3-5 days or so) as both of them enjoy the physical comfort of their connection, and the pillow talk afterward.

Meanwhile, Ichigo often spends his other nights finding Rukia asleep beside him, and starts to think about how deep his emotional connection to her is, and how comforting that is too. It leaves him more than a little conflicted and he starts to focus that feeling in on himself as he tries to figure out what to do.

POINTS OF DISCUSSION

This is where my sense of the plot becomes a bit less certain, and where I felt that input could be particularly insightful.

My sense is that Rukia, smart cookie that she is, would figure out what is going on very quickly. (Probably having a sense of it almost immediately, and piecing it together within a week.) Considering the undefined nature of her relationship with Ichigo, I don't think she'd be mad at him or upset with him. I do think it would also make her reflect on her feelings toward him, and together with her own growing recognition of her sexuality, would lead her to be curious and to want to try and have a physical connection with Ichigo too.

So, I think that she would prepare herself mentally and wait until a night when he was in his quarters, and make the first move. And Ichigo would not resist and quickly start to cooperate, wanting to make Rukia feel good. It'd be different between her and him than with him and Yoruichi, but just as intoxicating.

Probably the next morning, Rukia would slip out early and go to see Yoruichi to try and discuss things, having some sense of Ichigo's emotional turmoil and not wanting it to go on further.

I think they'd talk in Yoruichi’s quarters (as I don’t think Rukia would be intimidated by talking there), but they might also go somewhere private on the ship, maybe a kind of industrial or disused area as neutral ground.

Rukia would begin with just a frank admission of, "I've slept with Ichigo," not wanting to make the talk confrontational or anything.

Yoruichi would say something like, "Good. It's about time."

"That's all you have to say?" Rukia would be surprised more than anything.

Yoruichi might maneuver closer and get in her personal space, assessing her carefully and critically. Rukia might tense up a little but would hold her ground, not afraid.

Eventually Yoruichi gets closer still and leans in to just softly kiss her.

Rukia's stunned, then like, "What are you doing?!"

Yoruichi would pull back and consider her, then cross her arms over her chest as she looked away. She'd say something like, "I know you will, but make sure you take care of him," making it clear she approved.

Rukia would be stunned for a moment, giving Yoruichi the opportunity to begin to gently quiz her on the experience. Did she like it? Did Ichigo? Was it good? Where do they want to go with their relationship?

I think Rukia would see through it, and although she would answer, she would press Yoruichi on her own feelings. It would turn into a kind of Self-Sacrifice Olympics because Yoruichi would be willing to step aside, and Rukia feels bad about that because she can tell that it wasn't purely physical on Yoruichi's part, and back and forth.

They would talk through things for longer than they might have thought they would, with Rukia discerning Yoruichi's care for Ichigo and Yoruichi truly grasping how considerate Rukia is.

I think Rukia would be moved, personally, and she'd eventually return Yoruichi's initial smooch but for a different reason, to make it clear how heartfelt her respect was.

Now, of course, the goal here was to set this up together gradually, so I think that given their shared history to that point, Yoruichi would return it and it would turn into something more, more mutual and a bit handsy.

By the time they pulled apart and looked at one another, they'd both have expressions like, 'Well. What do we do now?'

I think it'd be Rukia who said, "We'll have to see what he says... together."

I don't think they would immediately become a trio from there, it'd be a lot rockier than that, with each having their doubts about the matter before them. 

Ichigo would be worried that they were just doing this for his benefit and that he didn't deserve either of them. Rukia would be less confident in her newfound sexuality and lack of experience and might have a bi crisis (or recurrent bouts of it). Yoruichi would be secure in her sexuality but be worried about hurting them and how that could affect them all professionally (to the extent of even getting them all killed).

I also think it'd take them a fair amount of time to try anything all together, even just cuddling. So it'd be a drawn out process of discovery rather than them all just jumping into it. Movie nights, hanging out, going on dates in pairs and as a trio, and splitting off to take turns as duos (Rukia and Yoruichi at first having an understanding, and eventually taking the step of trying being with each other). It would probably take almost as much time to process through as it did to set up before they finally fully settled in together. 

Meanwhile, the surrounding situation would also obviously be growing more complicated...

In addition to mercenary adventures and dealing with the continuing wrath of Byakuya and the Lyran Commonwealth, there is an even larger picture owing to the Third Succession War.

While, obviously, this does not slavishly follow BattleTech's history as it is, nor will it going forward, taking elements and using them seems prudent. In BattleTech canon, the Third Succession War ends in 3025 with the Lyran Commonwealth and Federated Suns signing a defensive pact (in 3022) which is ultimately designed to unify them (into the "Federated Commonwealth"). The Free World League, Draconis Combine, and Capellan Confederation then ink their own agreement to counterbalance the threat of this.

My feeling is that the FedCom pact could have an interesting basis in Ichigo and Rukia coming together (and, because I'm a basic and predictable bitch, Byakuya and Kuukaku getting involved), although Yoruichi's presence would make things more interesting and complicated. Regardless, I think that with three Great Houses being represented (by Yoruichi, Rukia, and Ichigo) the crew would wind up playing some sort of role in the Third Succession War's resolution.

Other characters can be integrated variously throughout in different ways as well.

FOOTNOTES

[1] Likely standing in for Robinson in the actual BattleTech setting. [2] Rukia's official title of nobility is quite low considering her relation at this time. [3] Rukia, operating on behalf of her brother, has a rare customized 'Mech: an FS9-H Firestarter with 3/4 of the Flamers replaced by Medium Lasers, changing its BV (2.0) from 694 to 883. The rear-facing Flamer is the one retained. This would give it decent staying combat power for something so light. Looks something like this. [4] In BattleTech, the Successor States lost the knowledge of many Star League-era technologies ("lostech"). One of them was cooling suits for MechWarriors; "typical" garb is instead a cooling jacket and as little clothing as possible, usually a sleeveless leotard. So this could be a kind of funny scene if that's kept. (How hard is it to turn a vest into a suit though...) This would make Yoruichi's preferred taste in attire in Bleach fairly normative, though. Alternatively, the standard could be more like what was envisioned in one of the latest video game adaptations. [5] Probably a bog-standard LCT-1V Locust, the most common sort around. Looks something like this. [6] Perhaps an HBK-4G Hunchback. Looks something like this. Renji can have an ugly 'Mech to start with. [7] I'm thinking of a stock VTR-9B Victor. Looks something like this. [8] I think Yoruichi might have a TDR-5SE Thunderbolt (looks), Kisuke might have a MAD-3R Marauder (looks), and Tessai might have a BLR-1G BattleMaster (looks). [9] Kisuke, Yoruichi, and Tessai have somehow found (and renamed) the Argo. [10] It's notable that the Draconis Combine hates mercenaries, so that Yoruichi is here (with Kisuke and Tessai) doing mercenary work also Says Something. [11] As I am constantly saying Fullbring should’ve been introduced early in Bleach, maybe they meet (and beat) rival mercenary group Xcution and take on the remnants (probably Jackie, Yukio, and Riruka) as pilots?

[batfam-imagines]

Hope

This is loosely based off another fic I wrote for one of my other blogs @mymarvelimagines here’s the link to the original fic: Is That Her? Obviously this fic has quite a few changes, so I hope you like it! Let me know what you think!

———————————————————————————–

“I can’t, Arthur. I have a date tonight!”

Arthur lets out an exasperated huff, “I don’t really care what you have planned. You’re my Captain of the Guard, and I need you at this Justice League meeting. I’m going to introduce you to the rest of the JL members. Mera said I’m no longer allowed outside of Atlantis without an escort, so I’ve chosen you.”

You let out a huff and debate on just hanging up on your king, but eventually decide against it. “Very well. I’ll cancel my date, but next time I want at least 24-hours’ notice. You know I hate this last-minute shit.”

“You aren’t in the place to demand anything, Y/N. I am your king”

“Funny. I thought you were my brother. It’s you who can’t demand anything from me. I was your Captain of the Guard but got tired of all the ‘half-breed’ comments people kept making. You know damn well that I chose to live on land, so you can’t demand anything from me anymore!” You can feel the oceans magic that constantly thrums beneath your skin rising up as you speak, preparing for a fight. The days of you being an official Atlantean are long over, and sometimes Arthur willfully forgets that.

Arthurs growl crackles over the phones speaker, “Fine, you were one of my best fighters. I would greatly appreciate it if you would come with me this afternoon to the Watchtower. The soldiers still respect you, and the war council will take your word more seriously than mine. You’ve fought beside them more than I have, Y/N, you have their trust”

“And?”

Your brother groans, “Seriously? Alright, alright. Next time I need you I’ll try to give you some more notice”

“And?”

“Damnit, woman! I’m sorry! Is that what you wanted to hear? I’m sorry for being a total ass, and for trying to pull the whole king-thing on you”

“Thank you! It’s like pulling teeth to get an apology out of you!”

“Can you just be ready at 6 tonight?” You grunt an affirmation, and Arthur sighs, “You know I miss you, right? It’s just not the same without having you here”

“I know, but I’m not coming back, at least not permanently. And, you know, if you miss me so much you could swim your lazy ass back home and visit me and dad” You glance over at your aging father, sitting hunched and quite on the pier. “You should really come visit him soon, Arthur. He misses you”

“I will, Y/N. I promise, once this meeting is over tonight, I’ll be staying for the weekend. Speaking of, wear your gear, I want to show up the Bat and his brood, but keep your hood off. You’ll be getting to know everyone’s identities tonight”

“Fine, now I have to go. I need to call my date and cancel and make dad some breakfast. Oh, and warn your friends, if I get stopped by some kind of security it won’t be pretty”

“Noted, brat. I’ll let everyone know not to mess with my badass little sister”

“I’m only 8 minutes younger than you!”

Arthur lets out a barking laugh, “I’m still the oldest! See you tonight!”

–

Once Arthur hangs up, and breakfast is made, you retreat to your room to call your date: Jason. Koriand'r had introduced the two of you when the Outlaws had a mission that crossed Atlantean borders, and the two of you had instantly clicked. By the end of the mission they two of you decided to keep in touch. At first by sending letters, and once you had moved onto land by exchanging numbers. But even though you’d been talking to him, had even been considered his friend for almost a year, he hadn’t let you see his face. Whenever Snapchat was used, or the two of you video-chatted, Jason was always wearing at least his domino mask. Tonight was supposed to be the first night where you finally saw his entire face. But now you had to cancel.

Jason picks up on the first ring, “Hey, Y/N, I was just getting ready to call you”

You can’t help but smile at his sleep-roughened voice, it wasn’t easy being awake during the day when most of your crime-fighting happened at night. “Oh really? You just couldn’t wait until tonight?”

He chuckles, “Unfortunately not, sweetheart. Batman called me in on a last-minute assignment, he actually called all of us in, wouldn’t give any details until tonight though. I’m not real sure what the hell is going on, but I’m gonna have to cancel our date.”

Letting out a soft chuckle, you close your eyes in relief. You really hated to cancel plans or disappoint people, and now you wouldn’t have to feel guilty about not being able to make the date. “That’s fine, Jay. That’s similar to what I was gonna say too. My brother called me, said he needed me for some secret meeting tonight”

“Crime never sleeps, doll. Guess we’ll just have to reschedule when no annoying brothers or crazy family members can reach us”

“Yeah, Jay, we definitely will. If you think you can get out of showing me your face because of one botched date, then you’re sorely mistaken”

Jason chuckles, “Wouldn’t dream of it, Y/N. I’ll text you tonight after this thing for B, alright?”

“Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll let you know how my meeting goes. Bye, Jay”

“Bye, Y/N”

–

You stroll up to the ZETA Tube at 5:55 pm, “Hey, Arthur!”

Your brother pushes himself off the disguised transportation machine with a scowl, “You’re late”

Checking your watch, you flash a bright smile, “I’m not late. You said to be here at 6, it 5:57. And plus, I just had to stop for some chicken nuggets on the way here”

“Did you get me any?”

“I did, but then I ate them”

Arthur huffs, “Rude, I freaking love chicken nuggets. You’re getting me some after this damn meeting”

You roll your eyes, “Thought you were the ‘big brother’, aren’t you supposed to take care of little ol’ me?”

“Shut up and get in the ZETA. If I’m late to another meeting Batman will feed me to his children”

“Batman’s up there?” Arthur nods as he punches in his access code, “Cool, I always wanted to meet him”

–

“So, brother dearest, what’s this meeting about anyway and why do you need me to convince the War Council to take action? You’re the king, can’t you just command it?”

“I could try, but ever since you left any war actions I make are questioned. You were the one who actually won your arena fight, you gained their respect by the old laws. I only have it because I was deemed worthy enough to wield King Atlan’s trident.” Arthur’s shoulders slump slightly, “I just need you to listen to what the others have to say, then decide if Atlantean troops are necessary, okay?”

“Okay, okay. I will”

The two of you marched into the meeting, heads held high, “Everyone, I’d like to introduce you to my sister, Y/N. She’s -”

“Y/N?!” A man quickly stands up from the back of the room where he’d been leaning against the wall. He wasn’t wearing a mask, none of the heroes were now that you’d had the chance to notice, but that shock of white hair was unmistakable.

“Jason? What -?”

“You’re Atlantean? Why the hell didn’t you ever tell me that?! You never fuckin’ told me that you were Aquaman’s sister!!”

“I thought would be something you tell someone on the first date! Not over the phone!”

A dark-haired man, Nightwing going by his costume, leans closer to Jason, “Is that her? The girl you’ve been talking to for months now but were too shy to meet up with? I can see why you were nervous, Littlewing, she’s -” He’s cut off as another boy, this one shorter even than him and fine-boned – probably Red Robin – shoves an elbow into his side.

“Leave Jay alone, Dick. This is the first girl he’s shown more than a passing interest in since he’s been back” The pale boy smiles at you innocently, but his eyes are calculating. He plays innocent, used to people underestimating him before he strikes.

Then your eyes turn to the smallest of Jason’s brothers, the current Robin, who has yet to say anything. He just continues to sharpen one of his many swords while watching you, and smirks when your eyes lock. You can’t help but wonder if he’s ever trained with a trident.

Superman clears his throat, drawing everyone’s attention back to the center table, “Back to the reason we’re all here … We’ve received word that your half-brother is planning to start a war, and we need to help us stop it”

“Orm is always trying to usurp Arthur and take back the Atlantean throne, this isn’t anything new. Unfortunately, he’s … exceedingly difficult to capture because several of our people are still loyal to him, and Mother does not want him killed.” You sit down next to Arthur and Batman, quickly scanning over the notes they have about Orm’s forces.

Batman turns slightly to face you, “He isn’t just planning to attack Atlantis this time. He plans to start a war between the Atlanteans and Amazons that will wipe out most of the human race. He managed to hack our servers with the help of Black Manta and found the file for when Flash went to an alternate timeline where Amazons and Atlanteans were at war, destroying both themselves and us. The only way to stop this war from happening is to work together”

Nodding along, you continue to read the list of possible plans that the Justice League have written out, “Mmhmm. So looking at these, our little brother was planning to kill Queen Hippolyta and blame it on our people, causing your people -” You gesture across the table at Wonder Woman, “- to retaliate and kill Queen Mera, thus causing a huge war. And let me guess, he would ride in, or I guess swim in, with his little army and turn the tides of the war causing the Atlanteans to be victorious. All of our people would hail him a savior, Arthur would be booted off the throne, and Orm would once again rule all the oceans as Ocean Master, but this time he would have control of the land as well”

Flash nods along, quickly demolishing 6 more hotdogs as you talk, “Yeah, that’s pretty much what’s gonna happen if we don’t do anything! You’re really good at this”

Jason leans over the back of your chair, “So, sweetheart, you got any ideas on how to stop the end of the world from happening?” One side of his mouth curls up in a handsome smirk, “’Cause, if the world’s at war, then we can’t go on our date”

Arthur’s hand tightens on his trident, “Watch it, brat. I’ll skewer you and feed you to the Karathen”

“I don’t need you to defend my honor, fish-brains, I can take care of myself” You wink up at Jason before turning back to everyone else, “As for an attack strategy, Arthur and I will go down to Atlantis and convince the War Council to mobilize our forces. We’ll set up a perimeter in Themysciran waters, that way when Orm arrives we can meet him head on -”

“Only women are allowed on Themyscira, we do not allow men to freely roam our island” Wonder Woman’s eyes lock on Arthur, “Not even kings”

You nod, “That’s perfectly fine. If you want, only our female soldiers will get close to your islands’ borders, the men can be kept further away. Queen Mera and I will need to talk you’re your queen and general about the upcoming battle, I can show you the places to attack on Atlantean armor.”

“Very well. My mother will be much more … amiable to your plans if the men stay away” Wonder Woman extends her hand towards you, “I am Princess Diana of Themyscira, you may call me Diana. Once you have met with your people, I will be the one guiding you”

“It’s nice to meet you, sorry my little brothers a little - ” You swirl your finger by your temple, “- crazy”. You and Diana spend the next few minutes discussing the layout of Themyscira, the entire time you’re completely aware of Jason still leaning on the back of your chair having a hushed conversation with his brothers.

“Okay, now that everyone knows how beautiful the island is, are we ready to talk about weapons?”

Batman’s eyes flash up to his son, “Jason -”

“I’m serious! If we base Amazon fighting technique on Diana, then they predominantly use swords or something similar, shields, arrows, and hand-to-hand: mainly close range. But Atlanteans have the technology to fight at a distance, they have weapons that only need water to power them. Both Atlanteans and Amazons are equal in strength and speed, but if Orm manages to drive the fight to the water then it’ll be a massacre! Shit, he won’t even have to drive anyone to the water, plenty of Atlanteans are trained in magic and can bring the water to the fight!”

Everyone’s eyes are locked on Jason now, and you can’t help the slow smile that splits your face. Knowing that Jason, someone who’s physically attractive and who you’ve wanted to go on a date with for a long time, is smart enough to see flaws in a potential battle is ridiculously attractive. “Then tell me, Jay, how should we plan to overcome these flaws?”

Jason flushes pink, “I-I mean you guys are the battle experts, I don’t know everything -”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Littlewing! You’re the one who pointed out the flaws, you must have a way to fix them!” Nightwing gives his brother an encouraging pat on the shoulder, “Come on, tell us what you got”

“Okay. Well, Black Manta is human, right? So if he was able to figure out how to use Atlantean technology enough to build his own suit then we should be able to teach Diana’s people enough to shoot Atlantean guns. First we need to lay a trap though, get Orm and his fighters away from the water. They’ll be weaker, and easier to take down without easy access their main power source. Plus, only royals can breathe air, so if we can plan a stealth attack and expose the soldiers to air then they’ll be useless to Orm and his cause.” Arthur looks up at Jason in surprise, both at his knowledge of Atlantean physiology and of the possibility that his strategy could actually work.

“We’ll fine tune the plan once we know exactly how many soldiers and weapons we have available to us” You glance around the room, “Meet back here same time tomorrow with more information?”

Diana nods, “Yes, that should give me enough time to contact my mother” The Amazon stands without another word and leaves the meeting room.

“Thank you for meeting with us on such short notice, Y/N. I know you had other plans tonight” Batman stands as well, holding his hand out for a brief shake, before leaving with a swish of his cape.

The other heroes take Batman’s departure as a que and all stand to leave as well. Arthur grabs his trident from where is was leaning against the wall, “Alright, brat, looks like we’ll make it home in time to see Dad before bed”

“Wait, Y/N, before you go -” Jason scratches the back of his head lightly and clears his throat, out of the corner of your eye you can see Arthur walk over to talk to Superman, “- I know this wasn’t exactly the way our first in-person meeting was supposed to go, but you were amazing discussing battle strategies with Diana. And I was wondering if …”

“Will you go on a date with me?” You interrupt, the words coming unbidden from between your lips, “Like a real date, not one where there’s a bunch of other superheroes around and we’re trying to stop World War III. Not that you weren’t amazing -”

“Ugh, you guys are horrible at this” Red Robin just seems to appear at Jason’s elbow, “Hi, I’m Tim, Jason’s younger brother.”

“Replacement!”

“Don’t mind him, his time dead kind of stunted his emotional growth. He’d love to go on a date with you! Jason’s a total romantic at heart, so he’s the kind to pack a picnic and watch the sunset, you know? But if you aren’t into that I can schedule a dinner at the nicest restaurant in Gotham -”

“Drake, do you really think Todd would go to you for assistance if he needed to find a decent eatery? You survive off of granola bars and coffee. Besides, I have a much more refined palate, I will be assisting Todd in choosing his dates with the Atlantean” The smallest brother, the current Robin, sticks his nose up in the air with an amount of arrogance that you’ve only seen from people born and bred as royalty.

“Damian! We’ve talked about being mice to Tim! Why don’t we all help Littlewing with his date. I mean there are so many great places he can take her! There’s the pier, the aquarium -”

You snort, “Are those all water themed because I’m Atlantean?”

Jason groans, his hands raking through his hair, “Will you three go away? I don’t want to shoot you, but you’re starting to piss me off enough where I think that might be a good idea” The taller man turns back to you as his brothers make their way down the same hallways that Batman had gone down, “After meeting them I totally understand if you want to take back your offer for a date”

“Nah, they seem like fun” Jason raises an incredulous eyebrow, “To mess with that is, I mean that’s what siblings are for. And honestly Tim’s idea of a date was the one that sounded the best”

“The fancy dinner in Gotham?”

“No, no. I mean packing a picnic and watching the sunset. Picking out constellations, talking, getting to know each other more” You reach up and gently skim your fingertips across Jason’s strong jaw, “Maybe one on the beach, away from the city”

“When this whole war this is over, I’m taking you up on that, Y/N. You won’t be able to get rid of me” Jason pulls you into a brief hug before he starts backing toward the same hallway his brothers had gone down, “I’ll call you tomorrow morning when I get off patrol, alright?”

“Yeah, Jay. Talk to you in the morning”

The imminent future looks dark and full of bloodshed, but beyond that there’s hope. Hope for a future, hope to rebuild everything that will be lost, and hope for peace. Already you can feel your phone buzz with a mew message, and your brother nudges you playfully when you finally join him. There’s hope for the future, you just have to get to it.

———————————————————————————–

Let me know what you think! Send any ideas or requests you have to my Ask Box!

[surflove808]

Can’t please everyone all the time, and I really don’t want to.  So, um....Hey there, extreme shippers!

I thought to myself, “Everybody is gonna hate me for sure now, because let’s face it - on Tumblr, you’re either on one side or another” apparently.  And I’m on neither.  So, if I lose a lot of followers, I’m cool with that.  You shouldn’t be following me anyway - I’m angry, I curse like a sailor and I don’t make gifs.  I’m just a rant machine at the end of the day, who very occasionally reblogs decent stuff.

Speaking of rants...I saw an big rant tonight about people being upset over the person confronting Jensen at JIBCON about his treatment of Misha that was in defense of the shipper, I think?   I was gonna reblog with my reply, but not worth it.  They don’t deserve to get dogpiled on.  Probably a kid.  And TBH, my response is way harsher than they deserve.

So, here’s my independent thoughts on this nonsense, and I think it applies to Cockles/Destiehellers as well as extreme J2 tinhatters.  I’m so sick of all this shit.  And frankly, some of you are giving me the fucking creeps.  And yessss, I’m tagging you.  How else will you see this?  It’s literally meant FOR YOU.

To a non-shipper like me, scrolling through Tumblr for the past 2 years has been very informative in a bad way when it comes to the whole concept of shipping in this fandom.  I initially thought it was harmless, even beautiful at times, until I started noticing that there was one common denominator (Jensen) and started to realize he was nothing more than the Superbowl ring between the Patriots and the Seahawks with some of you people.  Bottom line (and correct me if I’m wrong) As long as Jensen/Dean is fucking or being fucked by Castiel/Misha or Sam/Jared -  GAME ON.  Battle to the death, using a real, live human being as the prize.  

It really is a prizefight and it feels like if you’re not on one side, you must be on the other.   If I comment negatively on one perspective/bad behavior, I’m a BiBro.  If I swing too far the other way, I’m a “Destiheller”.  For christ’s sake I’M NON-DENOMINATIONAL when it comes to this dumpster fire.  No pun intended.

And some of you are fighting over it.  Really fighting over the rights to who gets to disrespect this guy/character and his family/co-workers/etc based on your fantastical interpretation of his sexual preferences/partners.

No respect for his privacy, his character or his personal capacity to make his own choices free from your Sauron Eye.  Because all that matters is that he’s dicking down with YOUR fave.  I get it - he’s stunning, he’s immensely talented, and let’s face it - he’d have “chemistry” with a cactus.  What’s the deal?  Is reality too much of an emotional stretch?  

This whole BiBros/Wincest/J2 tinhatters vs. Destiel/Cockles nonsense is such a mess. A swampy, shitpile of absurd motivation...I can’t wrap my head around it.  For the record:  I’m pro actor and pro people who can enjoy the show without inserting themselves into the private lives of these actors.  That’s it.  That’s apparently this blog now.  Because I’m so goddamned sick of this farce. 

Let's say that you're really into a t.v. show. Like REALLY into it. You fall in love, become invested and start following the actors via social media and conventions. Eventually you find you have immersed and invested yourself so completely in the professional and personal lives of a few of the actors, that the lines become blurry in your mind between actual fact, your version of the truth, and fanfiction. You feel familiar with them in a way that maybe you would with some of your own friends and family and start to fill in gaps (gaps that exist because you don't actually know these people) by using your vivid imagination. You might even be more invested in the interpersonal relationships of these actors than you are in your own. You want for things to be a certain way so badly, that when they're not (or don't seem to be), you feel personally aggrieved by it.  And fuck anyone who threatens that, be they fellow fans of the show, wives, co-workers, etc. The illusion of familiarity and ownership grows and grows until one day, you convince yourself that these people actually rely on your counsel and opinions with regards to their professional decisions/friendships/relationships, and you feel encouraged by your own (to quote Death) " Inflated sense of self-importance" to confront them or those close to them about perceived slights via social media, or in person at a convention, for example. There will be some support for your endeavor thanks to the shared psychosis you have with your fellow hardcore true believers. The French call it "folie a deux" (but x 1,000). And you will continue to galvanize each other to greater heights when it comes to inserting yourself into the personal lives of these actors. 

If you do this, you'll be a folk hero. People will write songs about you on Tumblr and Twitter! Conversely, there will also be plenty of people saying "What the actual fuck is wrong with you?" You will not like these people and you will feel they're only saying that because:

A: They're "haters” or “stans” for one actor more than another B: They "just can't take a joke" C: They're so blinded by hate for one of the actors that it's clouding their judgement. D:  They’re not evolved enough or smart enough to “look below the surface and see what’s REALLY going on”. 

You will continue to double down on your commitment to this "cause" because you haven't yet found a real cause that's worth fighting for. You will not listen to reason, be respectful of boundaries, or logic until you grow up and out of this obsession. It just takes time. I hope. And you will continue to take the SPN "Family" credo so literally, that you think you're in control of mitigating the personal and professional relationships of people who don't actually know you, and who you don’t actually know.  Like - at all. That being said, word on the street is - They DO care, they DO listen, and if some of you who fit the above description have accomplished anything - it's that you're now Crazy Aunt Dolores that no one wants to sit next to at Thanksgiving, but there she is, and somebody has to draw the short straw and listen to her conspiracy theories while trying to digest their turkey.  We’re all trying to be patient with Crazy Aunt Dolores, but that patience is wearing REAL thin.  At least it is for me. I’m already planning on what to wear to her funeral. Bottom line: These guys will continue to live their lives as they see fit, not how you do. You need to find a way to come to terms with that.

Certain fans will continue to twist scenes, words, photos, actions... fuck... even every minor, incidental shot of body language to suit their purposes, and I will continue to be absolutely amazed by the mental gymnastics happening on here that would/could do a world of good elsewhere.  

You can certainly invest more time. Precious energy. Keep devoting yourself to self-soothing by creating a cocoon of delusion when the truth runs contrary to your belief. Keep supporting yourself with as much content as you can find that lines up with your pre-existing notion about these people that are strangers to you. People who are unaware of your existence.  

And I don’t mean that in a crappy way, it’s a big world out there and you mean something to the people in your life - invest in THAT.  Invest in yourself as much as you do in these artificial romances/theories/whatevers and I promise you, I PROMISE you - you’ll be too busy and fulfilled to give a shit anymore. Now, off to take some of my own advice.

[cptnsantiago]

take me home

4/?

~ snow storm

read on ao3

“Jake, the storm is only getting worse.”

Amy can barely see outside, the fog so dense that she’s holding on to any solid part of the car to prepare for the worst. “I’ve only met your mom twice but she’s scary so I’m not getting you home late.”

“I think my mom would appreciate it more if I made it home alive.” Amy retorts, scrolling through her phone slowly “We’ve been carpooling this trip for 2 years and the weather has never been this bad… And look! I just found a B&B half a mile from here!”

“Ugh fine,” Jake huffs, “But I’m indulging in the mini bar and won’t take any judgement!”

“Okay, waste your money. I’m just going to do the wise thing and sleep now that there are no finals to worry about.” Amy tells him, “Turn left.”

“Please, I know you’ve already started your little study calendar thingy on your desk.” Jake follows her directions with ease, laughing.

Amy had been introduced to Jake through their mutual friend Rosa in their first year of college. Amy had known Rosa her entire life, their moms having bonded through night classes years before they were born and they had been inseparable since. This then made Amy and Rosa inseparable. So when Rosa took up criminal psychology in her first year of college, Rosa met Jake and thus Amy made an acquaintance with him.

She was certain if they had met under different circumstances they would either be best friends or Amy would avoid him because he was just a certain type of annoying. The type being unbearably obsessed with Die Hard and not really knowing when to shut up about it. But they hung out on a semi regular occurrence, so they were good acquaintances.  

Their arrangement was convenient. They were both at university in Brooklyn and unlike Rosa’s family, their family did not move from New Jersey to be closer to them. So every summer, every Christmas and every spring break they would drive home and back to college together. 

And now she was going to be stuck with Jake in a B&B until the storm cleared. It wasn’t the end of the world, no - Amy did like Jake. Most of the time they hung out together they were either drunk or they were drunk with Rosa. The two and a half hour drive usually was spent with light chatter where Jake would eventually fall asleep or Amy would start reading. 

Stuck in a snowstorm, together, with no alcohol.

It wouldn’t be bad, she just thought it was going to be interesting. The nervous feeling only builds once they arrive at the B&B and learn that the only room they have available is one with a double bed. One double bed.

Jake acts like it’s no big deal, they were adults and could maturely share a bed without it being a whole thing. Amy’s read fanfiction, it’s always a thing. She doesn’t mention anything though because she knew one thing definitively; Jake would never let it go.

He still remembered (and brought up quite frequently) that she was the Finger Queen at typing camp one year. So there was no bringing up the Star Wars fanfiction she read on occasion; or worse, the one time she wrote one herself. Jake didn’t lie when he said he would raid the mini fridge. Immediately he took out the drinks and snacks and dumped them on the bed, following them by jumping gracefully into the soft bed. 

“What exactly is your plan?” Amy snorts, placing her own bag gently by the bedside table and sitting next to him. 

“Get drunk, watch Die Hard probably.” Jake shrugs simply as he finds the remote. “Then fall asleep snuggled by your side to keep warm from the horrible storm.”

“Do you like any movie but Die Hard?” Amy shakes her head, disguising her disgust so that he doesn’t straight up die from shock. “We’re absolutely not watching it.”

“Of course I like other movies!” Jake retorts with a light chuckle, “I just love Die Hard.”

“Oh god.” Amy finally rolls properly onto the bed, burying her face into the pillow.  

“Okay, another movie I like…” Jake ponders, and he’s quiet for a few minutes which catches Amy’s attention. “OH! Star Wars! My mom wants to see the new one with me when I get home.”

“Are you serious Jake?” Amy groans, her complete attention now on him. “All these years and you’ve been talking about Die Hard non-stop when we could have been talking about Star Wars? You’re actually messing with me.”

“It’s never come up!” Jake starts giggling, tipping his head back as the laughter gets stronger. 

“That’s because you never shut up about Die Hard.” Jake only mimics her face in reply, “Why don’t we watch it? I just got Disney plus last week.”

“Oh?” Jake raised an eyebrow at her, “I did the free trial but I have no money. Zero dollars. College sucks.”

“Maybe you’d have money if you didn’t take everything from the minibar.” 

“This is my Christmas present to myself!” Jake counters, turning the TV on.

“I’m not even gonna respond to that.” Amy rolls off the bed again to take out her laptop and it’s only a few short minutes before the beginning notes of the movie plays on the mediocre flat screen in front of them.

“Do you have any theories for the next-” Amy quickly shushes him, not so gently covering his mouth with her hand.

“Not surprised you’re a talker but don’t.” Amy whispers, “I like to hear to movie, we can talk after.”

She’s surprised that he stays quiet for the remainder of the movie. Jake was without fail the loudest person she knew, louder than her brothers. There were only a few comments and laughs shared between them - it even got flirty between them. Amy had never spent this much time alone with Jake and she didn’t expect them to get along without them being drunk. But they were both sober (he finally admitted he couldn’t afford the mini bar) and he was telling every dumb Star Wars joke ever said - she was genuinely having a good time. 

Things only got weird again when she starts yawning and he’s suggesting they go to bed. It had been a good night so there was no reason that had to change. Amy would be an adult about it, and maybe she was actually wrong about Jake being an immature child obsessed with an action movie. Jake was a smart and capable adult, compassionate and funny and obsessed with an action movie to no end. 

Climbing into bed, Jake is already facing her propped up on his arm. “Now that we aren’t watching the movie wanna talk about theories?”

“Okay, hit me.” Amy shifts so she’s in the same position.

With her permission, he launches into a long spiel of theories. Ones he had seen on the internet and some that he thought of himself when he had been putting off his study. “But my favourite part of the sequels are Finn and Poe, and I know Disney sucks so they probably won’t get together but I have this whole idea of how they could.”

Jake continues to ramble on about his idea, and her stomach drops as he continues because she knew this idea all too well. It was one of her favourite fanfictions. But there was no way - no way there was a not awkward way to ask, and no way Jake could write a story so beautiful.

“Jake, I have a strange question.” Amy sits up, twisting her hands.

“What is it?” Jake looks concerned at the change of her behaviour and that only makes her more nervous.

“Did you write blink back to let me know? Th-the story?” Amy avoids his eyes, so she doesn’t see them crinkle up as he begins to laugh.

“Who would’ve guessed? Amy Santiago is a big enough of a nerd to read fanfiction!” Jake prods at her twisted hands to gain her attention. “I did write that. Small world, huh?”

“You’re not embarrassed?”

“No, I love Finn and Poe a lot.” Jake levels himself to Amy. “It’s just a fun hobby.”

“A hobby? That is my favourite fanfic, Jake. You’re amazing!” Amy waves her hands around, obviously flustered. “You’re you and you wrote that and it’s so beautiful but it came from your weirdo brain! I just need a sec.”

“The most important thing is did you give me kudos?” Jake teases.

“Jake it’s literally bookmarked on my phone.” Amy makes a move to prove it and his draw drops when he sees it open on her phone.

“I’m flattered!”

“I’m so confused.”

“Oh come on!” Jake scoffs with another laugh, “Surely it’s not that surprising that I have an adorably romantic side to me!”

“It’s completely surprising!” Amy sucked in a breath when he winked at her, “But I like it.”

~

Amy isn’t surprised to find herself cuddled to Jake when she wakes up. Stupid tropes that Jake apparently loves to write about.

She couldn’t help that it was freezing and needed the extra body heat to stay alive in the old B&B. Looking outside she finds that the storm had fizzled out and their landscape was completely covered in fluffy white snow. It would be a little while before they would be able to leave; she can hear the snow plow a few streets over so as soon as it cleared the street they were on, they could leave. 

Jake is still asleep when she exits the bathroom, dressed and ready for the day. He was almost as cute asleep as he was when he went on about his stories. Even when he didn’t shut up about Die Hard he was cute.

Usually Amy didn’t care for crushes. No guy was ever enticing enough for her to want to get all giggly over. But right now Amy wanted to press kisses on his face until he woke up and smiled the dumb dopey grin he did when he would fall asleep in the car. She remembers thinking he was cute then, but never thought to act on it, he was too immature.

“Morning writer boy.” Amy pokes his cheek a few times, laughing as he attempts to snuggle further into the bed. “Come on, we need to be ready to leave soon.”

Jake makes extremely unintelligible noises and it has Amy rolling her eyes, “Words of a poet.”

He takes a pillow next to him, throwing it at Amy as he rolls out of bed. It takes him only a few minutes to walk to the bathroom, so Amy was hopeful that they would be able to check out by the deadline. Jake takes an extra five minutes over the check out time but the old lady at reception gives them a break, calling them an adorable couple as they arrive at the desk bickering. 

“Hey, uh, since the street hasn’t been cleared…” Jake turns to Amy after he closes the trunk of her car. Amy tilts her head at him, and she has to hide her smile because his nervousness was making her nervous. “Do you wanna go see Star Wars?”

Amy lets out a short laugh, “I… What about your mom?”

“I think she’d be fine if I saw it with someone else if she knew it was a date…” Jake shrugs at her, and his blush was most certainly not from the cold. “The movie theatre is a just a couple of blocks away.”

“A date?” Amy tucks the loose strands of hair back behind her ears, and her heart is beating so loud and this is not what she expected from a road trip with Jake.

“I, uh, it’s okay if you don’t wanna!” Jake trips over his words for a moment, “I just think you’re super cool and I’ve thought about it for ages but I thought you didn’t like me or something and last night…”

Amy interrupts him with a step forward and a soft peck to his cheek. It turns out he could go more pink. “I’d love to go on a date with you.”

Jake offers his arm and she takes the hint quickly, her arm sliding around his bicep. “Now do you wanna make bets on who they’re gonna kill off?”

[paperback-writers-blog1]

The Secret

By: ModLennon & ModMcCartney

Rating: T

Pairing: John/Paul

Summery: Modern AU! John meets a boy with a secret, but will he ever find out what it is?

Chapter 3/?

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Tags: @the-beatle-queen

When Paul took off John got truly worried. Something was wrong! And Paul was saying he had to protect him? He couldn't let him run off like that, he had to at least try to stop him.

"Hey, woah! Paul come back!"

John took off after him. Paul wasn't really thinking about being careful and as he ran over a worn dip in the pavement he stumbled and fell to his knees. He couldn't find the energy to get up. He just stayed there, sniffling and not caring if he got funny looks. John was able to catch up to him quickly then. He immediately knelt down to check Paul over.

"Are you hurt??" He looked so worried, horrified at the idea of Paul hurting in any way, whether physical or emotional.

Paul just shook his head. He couldn't look at John. John carefully pulled Paul into a little hug.

"Cmon Paul.. what's all this business about protectin me? You dont have ta worry so much.. if ya don't feel the way I do.. I'll recover. I'm okay with bein friends, you know..."

John couldn't help but think it had to do with that. He simply had no idea what Paul was going through.

"N... no I... I'll hurt ya....I... I like ya f...far too m...much but we... we can't.... I can't.... can't..."

Paul would never be able to be just friends with John.

"Paul.." John spoke softly, lifting Paul's chin to look at him properly. "It's gonna be okay. Whatever this is about... it's okay. We don't have ta move fast. We don't have ta set any kind of expectations for the future. Just relax, yeah? I just wanna spend time with you, as much time as I can while I can, okay?"

"But when the time comes-"

"Then we'll deal with whatever this is about."

John had a sinking feeling, but he wasn't lying. If Paul was terminally ill or something similar, which it was starting to seem like what with how secretive he could be and the vague comments he made now, John still wasn't lying. He wanted to spend as much time with Paul as he could.

"For now, won't you let me take you home?"

"There... there can be no ‘we’ in the matter, don't ya get it? All I can do is leave ya behind an...an just...hurt ya."

Paul fell forward so his forehead rested against Johns shoulder. John's assumption was pretty much solidified by that comment. He hugged Paul tighter, feeling the strangest little ripping in his chest at the very thought.

"Then stay with me now, while you can." He spoke in barely more than a whisper.

Paul just nodded. How could he say no to John now? He understood the situation and he was still wanting to try for a little while. He was willing to have his heart broken to spend a little time with Paul. He knew either way John would lose him. If he didn't pick John he'd have to leave eventually. If he did...Paul swallowed and sat up.

"Alright... alright."

John relaxed a bit at that.

"Did ya hurt your knee?" He looked worried. He had seen Paul fall and wanted to make sure he wasn't too banged up from it before they got up to walk.

Paul gave a little nod. While he was sure he could probably walk on it, there was a nice lump forming. Besides he wanted an excuse to keep hold of John.

"Here, get on my back, I'll carry ya back." John insisted.

He knew he could just let Paul lean on him for support, but he wanted Paul closer. He wanted to show Paul he would carry him through whatever.

"Ya... ys sure?"

Paul knew he wasn't exactly fat, but he was pretty much the same size as John.

John nodded, "of course."

He smiled kindly and shifted so that Paul could easily climb on his back. Paul was unsure but still got himself settled on Johns back.

"Dya know where Forthlin Road is?"

"Yeah actually. That's right near me..."

John sounded a bit shocked again. Paul lived that close to him... and he had never seen him before today? It didn't seem possible. When Paul was settled he started walking. Paul relaxed completely. He didn't usually like others carrying him, self-conscious about his weight, but John was so comfortable.

"Now ya know where I live I suppose there's not a whole lot I can do ta stop ya comin round ey?" He sounded quite happy about that, despite everything.

"Not a chance. And I'm not the kinda guy who waits three days or whatever other nonsense people do these days. I'll be pestering you as soon as possible." He sounded very pleased with himself. He wanted to spend every free moment he had learning more about Paul.

"Well... this will be interesting to say the least." Paul commented.

"I can promise you that much."

John spoke with so much fondness in his voice it was almost even alarming to him.

"That and I have never taken a boy home ta meet dad before." Paul chuckled.

"Is he very strict?" John asked, for once actually sounding a little nervous. His own experiences with parental figures in his life had left him wary of parents.

"I wouldn't say strict. Just... protective."

Paul had a feeling it wouldn't exactly surprise Jim, to bring back a boyfriend. But anyone he brought back would be under a lot of scrutiny until Jim was satisfied they wouldn't hurt Paul.

"I can handle protective."

John could understand that, after all. He felt strong urge to protect Paul himself, so he was sure he'd get along with others who shared that feeling.

"And Mikes younger so he don't get a say in who I see." Paul joked.

John laughed at that. When he spoke again it was in a much softer voice.

"Dya think they'll like me?" More than anything, families made him insecure.

Paul had a little think, wanting to answer truthfully.

"Yeah... I think they will."

John seemed to relax a bit, though he'd been unaware of it he had automatically tensed up when Paul's father was brought up. Paul rested his chin on his arm. He could easily fall asleep like this.... he found he had dozed off a bit, only to be brought back to reality by John asking which number.

"Huh...?" He mumbled as his brain caught up. "Oh... 20... we already here?"

"Unfortunately, yeah..."

John really didn't want to leave Paul now, but he couldn't stay by his side forever really.

"Oh... well now I gotta decide if we should say bye at the door or if I should invite ya to my room."

Paul hated the idea of John leaving.

"Hmm.. dya have classes in the morning? I wouldn't wanna keep ya up, but if you're not doin anything else..."

Paul shook his head.

"Then I'll leave it up ta you," John smiled.

"W....well... would ya?" Paul asked almost shyly.

"I would love to." John said sounding so sure.

The more time he could get with Paul, the better.

"Ya just wanna be nosey ey?" Paul giggled.

When they got to the door, he carefully got off John and let them in.

"Oh, of course." John grinned. "I wanna see how ya keep your room. I bet ya keep it nice and tidy. And i bet... hm.. i bet ya alphabetize all your records and books or movies or whatever else ya got in there."

"I do not!" Paul gasped.

Paul shut the door behind them and yelled a hello to anyone around then led John up to his room. It was neat, but not so tidy. Paul hadn't exactly been expecting company so didn't tidy up. He blushed a bit. John looked very amused when he saw it.

"I guess I'm not always right. That's okay though, we'll get along even better than i thought."

He instantly went to look through Paul's record collection. It was obvious Paul took care of his collection. It was the tidiest thing in the room. On the shelf were various record and record player cleaning items. It seemed to be a little music corner, as Pauls guitar was on its stand near the shelves. His desk had a few scattered guitar picks of various thickness and colour. His favourite was stuck in the strings of his guitar. His desk was a whole other story. It was a creative mess. Not one thought was ordered, scraps of paper with drawing practise were laying mixed in with his actual collage work and some lyrics. A few of Pauls favourite lyrics that he wanted to really work on were pinned to a cork board above the desk. There seemed to be some kind of order there, with lyrics on the left side of the board while college notes were on the right. Other than that it was an ordinary room, a shelf of books and dvds, his laptop on his bed. A wardrobe with a few posters on, showing Paul did enjoy modern bands too. He had a muse tour poster, one for the American idiot musical, a small Elvis tribute act with a little signature in the corner and a clearly vintage Elvis poster in a frame on the wall. On top of some draws were various family pictures. It was a small room but had so much of Pauls character packed in. John took his time looking at everything. He didn't speak as he did, just silently walked through observing everything he could. The room told him so much about Paul and he wanted to learn everything he possibly could. Paul took his shoes and jacket off then sat on his bed.

"Well? Now ya here... did ya have any idea what ya would do once ya did?"

"I had a few," John looked over with a wicked grin. "But tonight I wanna keep things simple." He finished flipping through Paul's stack of books and finally went to sit on his bed. "When did you first start collecting records?"

John went right back to asking questions. He couldn't help himself. He just wanted to know everything. Even the things that might seem boring to others.

"Um... when I was about 11/12. Mum showed me a record she had and I liked it so much she said I could keep it. We used ta go record shoppin."

"Which record was it?"

John was very interested in that. His own mother was the one who got him into records as well. Paul stood up and went to the shelf. He flicked through until he found it. He carefully pulled out a best of Buddy Holly and handed it to John.

"She said she remembered Grandma playing it when she was younger. Probably not this exact record but... yknow."

"Ahhh Buddy Holly.." John smiled appreciatively as he looked it over. "So you've always had good taste then."

Paul blushed a bit. "W...well thanks ta her. Left ta dad it'd be jazz an brass bands."

"I'm sure she's quite proud of the collection you've got now."

Paul suddenly went quiet and turned his back to John, finding something to distract himself instead of responding to the comment. John wasn't too sure, but it did seem a bit odd. He moved so he could hug Paul from behind, resting his chin on Paul's shoulder.

"Paul... I want your whole life story. From the very beginning.. from your first memories.. tell me everything that led to you being this person, with those posters and those books... tell me about your favourite films and your favourite place to play as a child. I wanna know everything."

Paul quickly wiped his eyes.

"Well I... I can't remember /everythin/..." he mumbled.

"That's okay. Just tell me everything you do remember."

John wasn't stupid. He could tell something was a bit off after the comment he had made. He could only assume the worst.

"W...well I dunno where ta start... a lot of it is... borin growin up stuff yknow."

"I don't think I'll find any of it boring," John said with a smile.

"I can't think of anythin you'd really wanna know." Paul shrugged. "What I went ta school, rode a bike, hung out with friends?"

"Mmm.. tell me about your friends? Maybe favourite childhood memory?"

As John spoke he laid back on Paul's bed, making himself at home. He wanted to get a feel for Paul's life, see what he saw every night before bed.

"Oh... well I dunno... I mean I never had any like... really close friends. Coz we move around so much yknow? An kids ain't great at keepin in touch..." Paul paused for a moment. "Well... for a few years I did but... moved again so we fell outta touch." Paul found he never had problems making friends. But he did have difficulty keeping them. Mostly because he got secretive, hid away a lot and disappeared for months on end. Most of them just moved on. "Best childhood memory? Well... usually when we managed to go to a beach. Formby was the best but we would sometimes travel to New Brighton or Blackpool."

There it was again, a sudden fondness for water, specifically the sea. Which didn't add up to how he behaved around water.

"Huh, I was kind of under the impression ya didn't like water. Ya seemed so skiddish at the docks..."

John wondered briefly if something had happened during one of those beach days that traumatized Paul. That could explain the love and hate relationship with water he seemed to have.

"O...oh well.... the... the beach has other stuff yknow... playin in the sand an most have...the arcades..." Paul couldn't look at John. Instead he sat at his desk. "Anyway there was a reason you asked to know everythin. You wanna know somethin specific but ya don't wanna ask outright."

Paul raised an eyebrow. He had seen the behaviour before. He knew he could get funny when Mary was mentioned and people were so worried about upsetting him they would ask sort of vague questions in the hope he'd tell them. But Paul was careful with how he answered, only letting them know what he wanted them to. Sure if they asked he'd answer, but how much information he divulged would depend on how much he trusted them

"Actually I do just wanna know everything," John smiled. "But I am curious about somethin, yeah.. your mum.. she isn't around anymore is she?" He asked, his voice a bit softer now, sympathetic.

Really all the signs were there, the way Paul only talked about John meeting his father and brother, how he had said they used to go record shopping as a past tense. They were subtle clues but John was more attentive than most. Paul sighed and just shook his head. At least John made it a bit easier to answer, rather than the usual 'so what happened to your mum?' John didn't know what to say, so he just went to hug Paul again from behind, a bit tighter this time.

"Mine isn't either.." his voice was barely a whisper.

John just wanted Paul to see he understood, that /this/ was something he didn't have to feel alone in. He had lost his mother just a few short years ago, and he knew the pain all too well. Paul looked at John for a moment before turning to face him and just letting himself cry, hugging John just as tightly. He understood. He wouldn't expect Paul to be brave or tell him crying was childish. John held him tight, letting him cry. He had a horrible feeling that Paul had never been able to properly cry or show anyone how he felt about this. After a while, Paul pulled away wiping his face.

"S...sorry..."

"Ya don't have ta be sorry for anything." John said with a sad smile.

Johns own eyes were a bit puffy, as he had cried a bit as well. He was bad about Julia, he had never really processed it properly either. Without thinking, Paul gently wiped Johns eyes. It felt so good just to be able to grieve. He missed Mary so much, much more that the others just couldn't understand. Sure they missed her, but sometimes it physically hurt Paul to think she wasn't there. His future was so uncertain, there would be problems only she could help with. Paul bit his lip, looking at John carefully.

"I...do...are ya gonna...go home soon?"

It hurt less with John around. He felt so safe around him.

"I'll do whatever ya want me to. I'll stay however long you'll have me."

John closed his eyes at the feeling of Paul's hand on his face, leaning into the touch a bit.

"I just..."

Paul looked away. He felt so silly feeling like he did... he just met John a few hours ago.

"What is it?" John asked softly. "You can tell me.."

John couldn't deny their connection was quite odd, and it was all so sudden.. he didn't want to overcrowd Paul. He was worried that he might be, if the intensity was more one sided and Paul was just too kind and soft to push him away. Paul had a light blush across his cheeks.

"Ya just... make me feel... safe." He mumbled.

John's answering smile was so bright and pleased, the insecurity that had been bubbling up completely washed away.

"Good. I wanna make you feel safe."

Paul gave John a sad smile. He knew it couldn't be forever and one day, maybe soon, he'd lose that safety. Either way he couldn't resist cuddling back up, hiding his face in the crook of Johns neck. The only thing that made him pull back was the need to be a good host.

“Are ya hungry at all?" He asked. "Dya need anythin ta drink?"

He had no idea how long John did intend to stay. He wasn't sure if he would find it weird, staying the night, so he wasn't entirely sure how much to offer. Would he want to borrow pyjamas?

"I'm alright for now."

John was perfectly content just cuddling with Paul for the moment. He did hope that Paul might let him stay. He felt like he could stay with Paul forever and never get tired of him.

"W... well...dya wanna get more comfortable?"

Paul seemed a tiny bit bolder in his own room, but was still rather nervous about asking John these things. He didn't want to push it.

"I could go for that."

John was trying to take everything at Paul's pace and not be so bold now that he was in Paul's space. He didn't want to make a nuisance of himself. Paul moved off John then looked a little lost. He wasn't sure what to do now. They were clearly moving forward, getting closer, but Paul had never been in this situation.

"Here, why don't we put on a record?"

John suggested, thinking ahead a bit. There would be less pressure on Paul to say or do anything if he could just relax to music.

"Sure... what dya fancy?" Paul relaxed a little as he went over to the shelf.

"Maybe some Elvis?"

As John spoke he took his shoes and jacket off and settled in on the bed, leaving room for Paul to join him to cuddle. Paul nodded and put on a best of collection. Once playing at a nice low volume, he turned back to John. He carefully climbed onto the bed. Because it was a single he was practically on John, cuddling up. Outside it had gone dark and rain had started to fall. It was so cosy, Paul found himself quickly relaxing into Johns arms. John tried to make sure Paul was as cosy as possible before properly relaxing himself. He ran his hand along Paul's arm and back, stroking gently. The moment felt so perfect and surreal, he never wanted it to end.

"So um... this... this is pretty... not normal... for two guys who just met right? So... so what...uh...what...do we...what did ya... ya want...?"

Paul wasn't sure what John expected. He didn't know what was acceptable and what crossed a line.

"Well, to be honest I've kinda thrown normal out the window for this. I've never had a connection like this with someone before so.. I don't really know what ta do. But... obviously if anything I do makes ya uncomfortable... you can tell me yeah? Or if ya just get tired of me bein in your bed.." John smiled, "otherwise I'd just say do what feels right. I don't have any expectations, Paul. I'm just thrilled to be here with you."

Paul nodded a bit, but he was a little giddy after all this.

"So.... so you... ya my... friend? Nap buddy?.... body pillow?" He joked.

Maybe labels didn't really matter, but they did help set boundaries for Paul who was new to all this. John grinned a bit at that.

"Hmmm.. well I'm not big on labels, really.. but I was hoping for something a bit more than friend.." he mused.

John in as he spoke to gently run his nose along Paul's jawline, leaving a little kiss on his neck. Paul gasped a bit at what John was doing.

"I... I just...I don't know how ta... ta..."

Whenever John got near to his ear, specifically behind it, he would gasp louder and pull away. It almost looked like he was ticklish there. John had to bite his lip to hide the huge grin from that reaction. There were more serious things being discussed right now, though he did file that information away for later use.

"Have ya never dated someone before?" He asked, his tone gentle and understanding.

Paul shook his head.

"Like I was saying earlier... it could never be for long so... so I never bothered."

"Well... Paul... if you'll have me, I'd like to be with you for as long as you want me."

John's heart ached at the knowledge that that might not be long, but it only made him hold Paul a little tighter.

"I just... you'll be hurt. An... an ya ain't gonna understand why... I just... I can't say..."

Paul was so worried about this. He had no doubt Jim would make him leave when he had to, and eventually he would spend less and less time in Liverpool. Jim wouldn't let Paul do what Mary did. And even if he did, John would have to watch him die, like Jim had to watch Mary die. Knowing it was because she chose him, he was the reason, Paul saw it tear his dad up. How could he do that to someone he loved? Paul froze. Loved? He looked up at John and felt the flutter. Oh fuck...

"I know... you don't have ta tell me why, Paul. But like I said, I want this. I can't leave now knowin you exist and live in a world where I can't hold you, at least for now. I'm very...taken with you. And I want you for as long as I can have you... and the rest... I'll deal with it when its time. But that's on me, that's my choice yeah? So let me choose this."

"What if... hypothetically... ya... ya were the..." Paul sighed. He couldn't lay that on John just yet. "Nevermind. Ya right. It is your choice. An I suppose ya not gonna be that easy to deter right?" Paul gave a little smile.

John grinned, "ya got that right. The only thing that you could say ta make me leave ya alone is that you don't want me. So.. if ya ever change your mind.. I won't bother ya forever. But as for right now I happen to think you want me around just as much as I wanna be here. So lets steer into the skid and just live a little."

John had a triumphant smile, like he had won the lottery in getting Paull. Paul knew he should tell John he didn't want him. He should send him away. But he just couldn't he couldn't stand the idea of John going out with someone else. As selfish as it seemed, he didn't want to let anyone even consider having a chance with John. Instead he gave John a sweet kiss on the cheek. John turned his head to catch Paul's lips in a proper kiss, a bit more than the ones at the docks, but he was still very gentle and slow. He didn't want to rush things, but he was just thrilled to be able to kiss Paul. Paul felt a tingling through him as John kissed him. He could do it forever. However eventually he had to pull back to breathe. He looked up at John gasping a bit, lips red and swollen and a blush across his cheeks. John looked at him and felt his heart swell. Fuck! He had /no business/ being that hot! He had to look away or he didn't trust himself to not get carried away, so instead he closed his eyes and covered Paul's face in sweet little kisses. Paul screwed his nose up and giggled as John tickled him a bit. In the end he resorted to hiding his face in the crook of Johns neck again, still laughing. John finally gave up when he hid his face and just laughed with Paul. It felt so right to hold him. John tried to commit this moment to his memory, one thing he would never forget no matter what the future held.

[eyoricka]

fluffy ABC Theseus

A = Attractive: what do they find attractive about the other?

He loved your eyes. the color of them was so beautiful to him and was certainly the first thing he noticed when he saw you. he loved the sparkles in them when you laughed, smile or had an idea in your mind. They would bright with mischief sometimes and even if he knew that it meant troubles he adored it. he could literally read your soul through your eyes and that was probably why he loved them so much.

B = Baby: do they want a family? why/why not?

Theseus wanted a huge family, he was so excited at the idea of kids running all around the house. he wished to have girls because he grew up in a world of men, he only had a brother and, in his work, there were mostly men so he would adore to have little princesses. But he also wanted to have boys because he knew that he would love to have a strong bound with them.

C = Cuddle: how do they cuddle?

Theseus was a hugger so he just loved to cuddle, he would find any excuse to cuddle with you and that could be funny. He would be so cute when he pouted because you didn’t have time to embrace him or broke the embrace rapidly. Sometime when you were cooking or else, he would wrap his arms round you and hugged you tightly. Then he would kiss your neck and you would turn yourself to bury yourself in his chest. you would remain there a while until you had to break the embrace because the food was burning or else… Even if he was a protective man, Theseus was the little spoon. He liked to feel your small body protecting him.

 D = Dates: what are dates with them like?

Since he was working a lot you practically never went on date during the week. However he would keep his Sundays just for you. sometime you would stay home cuddling while reading and telling each other work gossips, some other time you would go to a café or during summer apparat on the Brighton beach. Nonetheless when he wanted to surprise he would take you on a date during the week and he would apparat you somewhere in the United Kingdom to stargaze and eat a pick nick.

E = Everything: “you are my ____” (e.g my life, my world…)

You are my Lumos because you are the one who guide him through the dark time, you are like his lighthouse. He would always ask to be by his sides when he was stressed or sad or when he was living bad moments like he would cast a Lumos in a dull house to remind himself that he was safe.

F = Feelings: when did they know they were falling in love?

Theseus certainly realized it during his last year at Hogwarts. Anytime the professors would ask him to imagine his future he couldn’t help but include you. He imagined you as his trusting girlfriend, the one he would recount his day as auror, the one who would encourage him to follow that dangerous path… However you were already dating someone else and he just thought that it was a teen illusion of what love is and when he would end Hogwarts he would forget you. the thing is he didn’t, even months after the graduation you were still haunting his mind. He was trying to convince himself that the only reason was that he hadn’t meet anybody else but deep down he knew the truth. So when he met you on Diagon Alley it was like a sign to him, even more when during the discussion you admitted that you had broken up with your boyfriend. He decided to gather his courage ad invited you to grab a coffee with him and since that day he never let you go.

G = Gentle: are they gentle? If so, how?

Theseus was very gentle with you, very patient and protective. He wasn’t a fan of big gesture he preferred everyday act of kindness with you to show you that he didn’t love you just on special occasion but every day.  After work he would usually stop by the bakery and bought you a cake, he would compliment you whenever he could, he would take care of the garden since you loved flowers and plants, snap cute photos of you…

H = Hand/Hold: how do they like to hold? how do they like to hold hands?

When you came at his work to visit him he would always hold you hand to show everyone around that they should not flirt or mess with you. in private he liked to feel your palm on his, he just loved holding your hand while cuddling. He would caress your knuckles with his thumbs and gently brought your hand to his lips just peck it till you giggle.

I = Impression: first impression/s

The first time he saw you, you were both eleven and entering in Hogwarts. You met during the sorting ceremony and Theseus hoped that he would become your friend because you seemed really fun, adventurous but also a good listener and a nice person. However he never expected to grow so attach to you and to have feelings for you.

J = Joker: are they into pulling pranks?

He is clearly not a prankster. He did necessarily said a lot of jokes either. But he sure loved to laugh and when something funny had happened he would immediately told you with really accurate and funny impressions. He was surprisingly really good at them and sometimes just to see your smile or hear your laugh he would do them until you crying of laughter.

K = Kisses: how do they kiss?

It depended on his mood. When he wanted to show that you were his girlfriend and entirely his he would kiss you with love and passion. He would literally make out with you like a teenager. After stressful days he would peck your lips until he saw you smile again.  When you were together, he would often kiss you softly just to show you that he cared.

 L = Love: who says I love you first?

he was the first one to say it and actually he even said it before you were dating. He had invited you to a party with some mates of your Hogwarts time. during the party you chatted with everybody and didn’t spend a lot of time with Theseus. This latter enjoyed the company of his friends and drunk with them probably more than necessary. When you were leaving you noticed his drunk state and you smiled never expecting to see him like that one day. You hugged him to tell him goodbye and he pouted saying that he didn’t want you to leave. You replied that you had to and he practically begged you to help him to go back to his flat. You nodded and as you apparated in front of his door and helped him to go inside. As you were walking out he grabbed your wrist. He put his hand on your cheek and mumble inaudible things and you tried to understand but you didn’t. suddenly he spoke louder and said “please stay tonight I don’t want you to leave actually I never want you to leave again because I love you and I’ve always had since our seventh year.” You were taken aback but agreed to stay and slept on the couch. the following morning when you took the breakfast with him there was an awkward silent but he eventually broke it “I meant it Y/N, what I said last night I mean it, I never plan to say it so soon but drunk me wasn’t aware of that. sorry for that and if you don’t want to see me again I can understand” You gently smiled at him and replied “Don’t apologize that was rather cute and I would love to go to more dates with you and I mean sober you”

M = Memory their favourite moment together

After a mission outside of the United Kingdom he caught a cold and was sick. You took care of him and spoiled him, literally doing everything he wanted, you event took your days off to be sure that you were always there if he needed something. That was adorable but the thing is you ended sick just when he was better and took care of you just like you did with him. that was a cute memory and even if he never wanted to live that sickness, he cherished that days he spent with you.

N = Nickel do they spoil? do they buy the person they love everything?

You had a real sweet tooth and he would spoil you with sweet food. He would manage to have all the cupboards full of cookies, candies, cocoa powder, milk, chocolate bars… For a lot of people that was a bit strange and childish but you loved it, you thought that this cute daily gesture was far more lovely that receiving a gold necklace (even if you wouldn’t say no to that either). Moreover since Theseus loved your perfume he was the one who always bought it for you.

O = Orange what colour reminds them of their other half

The color of your Hogwarts house. Since you both met the first time at the school he saw you all that years wearing the color of your house and he still liked when you were wearing outfits of that color. First it was a really nice color on you and then it reminds him the good old time and he couldn’t help the smile.

P = Petnames what pet names do they use?

He wasn’t much a fan of pet names actually most of the time he would call you by your name or nickname and it was an habit since Hogwarts for him to call you by your family name. sometime during romantic moments or when he felt like it he would call you by really cheesy pet names like honey bun, little dove or muffin.

Q = Quaint what is their favourite non-modern thing?

Theseus was obsessed with antic statues. The first you both talked about it, you refrained your laugh, you never saw him so enthusiastic, he was talking really fast and talking with his hands.  But then you understood why he liked those statues so much, to him they were so well designed, so perfect. They were telling a story and you could understand a society just by looking at them. he would always drag you to the Antiquity museum of each cities where you would stay and he would spend a huge amount of time looking at the statues and trying to sketch them even if he wasn’t so good at drawing.  Once again you didn’t really mind, that was a quirk that gave charm to his personality, but you had to stop him whenever he wanted to buy one to decorate your house arguing that it would take too much space. He would pout a bit before admitting that you were right.

R = Rainy Day what do they like to do on a rainy day?

he hated rain and he was unlucky since he didn’t live in a sunny country. So he would be grumpy all the day, he would complain a lot. Actually the only things he liked about rain was seeing you admired it falling through the window. Just that would lighten his day. So even if he would never admit it aloud he was looking forward the rainy day just to see your gleeful face.

S = Sad how do they cheer themselves/each other up

Drinking a hot chocolate with a cake you would have baked in the muggle way would cheer him up. you would play with his hair while he was drinking and eating. You would tell him how amazing he was, how brave, how perfect… then you would listen to why he was so down and forced him to think positive and find a way to resolve his problems.

Theseus was always a bit panicked when you were sad so he would do everything and anything to cheer you up. he would always do different things like cuddle you, massage you, write you adorable notes, plan creative project together, make you dinner, offer you flowers…

T = Talking what do they love to talk about?

He liked to talk about his job with you because even if you didn’t wok in that field he thought that you were a good advisor. You always took your time to analyze the situation, thinking about the pros and cons and gave him the best advices. He also talked a lot about your shared time in Hogwarts, even if you two weren’t dating at that time you were close and you had spent an amazing time with him. however the thing he loved the most was to hear you recount your day with vivid details and an excited grin on your face when you were describing the things you enjoyed.

U = Unencumbered What helps them relax?

After a rather stressful day Theseus loved taking a good bath and it was even better whenever you would join him. if he was really stressed, he would also try to apply the meditation tips you gave him and controlled his breath. He had even insisted on having a Zen zone inside of the aurors department to be sure that his colleagues would have a way to relax at work and even if the minister was skeptic at first, the room dedicated at relaxation was a massive success and aurors were much more efficient.

V = Vaunt what do they like to show off? What are they proud of?

Theseus is really proud of his career and since he was so young but had such a respectable position you could totally understand. He worked so hard for that and took a lot of risks so you didn’t mind when he would brag about that. even if he would not publicly admit it, he was really proud of his brother. He would always tell you that his little brother was a fair man, truly courageous and who believed in what was right and lived of his passion.

W = Wedding when, how, where do they propose?

Every year you would insist that Theseus took two weeks of vacation to relax and not think about work. It was a sort of tradition, at the beginning of your relationship he was pretty hesitant but now he was looking forward to these two weeks of pure bliss and happiness during spring. One year you were both enjoying your vacation, but he seemed still a bit tensed. you thought that the case he was working on was certainly important but you were wrong. One night after a nice dinner you walked hand in hand to your bedroom and Theseus was clearly a nervous wreck even if he denied it. when you were back in the hotel room he took a deep breath and put a knee on the floor and proposed you. your eyes grew wide and you screamed excitingly “yes, yes, yes and thousand of yes” and you ran to his arms to kiss him.

X = Xylophone What’s their song?

Magic works by the weird sisters

Y = You the ___ to my ___ (e.g the cookies to my milk, the macaroni to my cheese)

You are the jam and clotted cream to my scone. Theseus was English after all no nothing was more sacred to him than tea time with some scones. But to him a scone without jam and clotted cream was dry and not so good just like his life without you. You completed him, gave a meaning to his life, fulfilling it and he never felt so happy than by your side.

Z = Zebra: if they wanted a pet, what pet would they get?

Of course Theseus loved animals, beasts and everything that was living. He wasn’t much of a surprise since his mom took care of hippogriffs and his brother was a magizoologist. So he didn’t mind having animals around and if you wanted one he would get one and took an extra care of it.

[aleapoffaithfiction]

II.

Sarai Nazaire

“You know what I forgot to get while in the city? A pizza. I kept telling myself over and over again that I needed to order a pizza to the hotel and never did. Don’t get me wrong, we have good pizza spots in Atlanta, but there’s nothing like a New York slice. Being that Jesse’s from Chicago, you know they have their own style out there and we debate all the time about which region has the better pizza, but New York takes it by a landslide. Just don’t tell him that I said that.” I stuck the applicator back into the tube of my MAC “Spite” lipglass while she plopped back against the seat in disappointment for having failed to fulfill her craving. I wish she had of said something last night when she decided to travel over from the city to spend her final night on the East Coast at my house. We ordered a couple of dishes from this local Mexican restaurant that left my stomach in shambles throughout the night. I still feel slightly uneasy. Had we gone with a pizza, I probably wouldn’t have had to skip breakfast this morning.

“You’ll be back. We can grab pizza then.”

“I will be. The question is, when are you coming to Atlanta? Come down so we can have some fun in the city. We’re not New York, but the southern hospitality is damn good.”

“As soon as I find the time, I’m on the first flight out there. Contrary to what you believe, I actually enjoy Atlanta. I wouldn’t mind living down there. It’s a great city.” My eyes caught her own as she glanced at me from a side angle and a snide snicker followed to match her mood.

“That’s bullshit and we both know it. You’re an east coast girl to the core. I remember when we were in Toronto at All Star. You looked like a fish out of water. I don’t think I can ever see you moving anywhere else for an extended period of time until you’re saggy and old.”

“First of all, just because I’ll be old doesn’t mean that I’ll be saggy. Have you seen Angela Bassett? That’s the goal right there. Second, I do love it up here but I’m not opposed to living elsewhere at some point in my life. It just depends on the circumstances and opportunities. Right now, aside from it being home, it makes perfect sense to be on the east coast. So, until something comes up, this is where I’ll be.” I was the third hire for The Sports Haven and it was a time clenching phone call that came just before I was due to take another opportunity ESPN presented me with out in Los Angeles. I contacted a realtor in hunt for an apartment and intended to return to settle where I’d be residing, but my destiny ended up being in Connecticut. Though I wasn’t mentally prepared to make such a move, I prayed on it, and was ready. I’m sure it may have been my mother’s prayers of desperation to God that kept me here. She dreaded the reality that I wouldn’t be within close proximity to her though I’m not sure why. We’re not in one each other faces much regardless.

“With the position that you have up there at ESPN, I don’t blame you.”

“And once you’re up there with me, we’re going to turn it up. I need a bit more estrogen on that panel from time to time, even though I hold my own against all three of them.”

“That you do sister. That you do.” Our hands met for a high five and I pulled my small mirror out of my traveling case to check and see if I put on enough concealer. I’ve been dealing with sleep deprivation for the past two weeks or so and it’s certainly starting to show in my under-eye area. The seemingly endless hours at work aside, whenever I do have time to myself it’s either invaded by wanted or unwanted plans with the very view people in my life or I’m trying to tie up loose ends that I am not able to do during the week. I’ve considered hiring a personal assistant but I don’t think I’m at a point where I have the potential to become disorganized or worn down just yet. I intend to give it a bit more time.

“Your face looks good. You don’t need to double check anymore.”

“I’m just making sure everything is in place. I refuse to have Linda touching my face today or ever again. I avoid it at all costs.” I’m not one to discriminate against anyone or much of anything for as long as it’s not arming people, but I absolutely do have a bias when it comes to who does my hair and make-up. I need black hands and talent involved in the process at all times. Sure, there’s talent in every ethnic group, but when it comes to those of your own, there’s a certain level of respect and dedication you’re not going to get elsewhere. I know my foundation shade is going to be on point and that the concealer shade won’t have me in front of the camera looking like Casper The Friendly Ghost. My baby hairs are going to be slicked down just right when I’m rocking some braids and the frontal on my wigs will blend into my hairline seamlessly. If it’s one thing that I don’t play around with, it’s my personal presentation and it’s because I know that I’m going to be critiqued the harshest for two specific discrimination types; my blackness and womanhood. During my contract negotiation, EPSN agreed to hire hairstylist Annagjid Taylor, a mutual friend of my sister and myself. I’ve yet to find a make-up artist but until I do, I’ll handle it on my own. Linda can stay out of my dressing room.

“That woman slightly messed up your make up once and you’ve been holding a grudge against her ever since.” I couldn’t join her in the laughter that filled the SUV. My ears, overall face, and neck were three different colors that day and it was beyond obvious. My mother was the first one to call me and ask what the hell was going on and she doesn’t even watch ESPN. Social media had a field day with it.

“And I’m keeping that grudge.”

“I forgot to mention that I saw you speaking with Odell at the party. That’s one of my favorite guys. He has such a humble spirit and he’s super nice.”

“Hm.”

During the time frame when I was researching his career and background, I viewed plenty of interviews where I can easily admit that he exuded a calmness that I did not expect. After having heard so many opposing and confusing opinions about his character, I presumed that he’d be the “push back” style of athlete who deliberately gave reporters a difficult time in drawing information and responses out of him simply because he could. I’ve dealt with many of those types and it takes the patience of God to be able to sit or stand before them without reacting to such brutal attitudes. Marshawn Lynch is a prime example of one, but I’ve gotten used to it and we’ve built up a mutual respect for one another. Beckham Jr., on the other hand, isn’t likely to behave that way. He’ll give you short answers if he’s flustered or dealing with the disappointment of a game loss. You might receive a deliberate straight-faced expression if he’s being asked the same probing question repeatedly, but he’s never disrespected a reporter. I have never come across any bad commentary about an interview with him.

“He’s been wanting to meet you, actually. He spends a lot of time out in L.A. during the off season. While in town last month, I ran into him at an event out there and in the midst of our conversation he asked about you. He thought you were there too. He mentioned something about you two having failed chance encounters. What is that about?

“I don’t know.” Friend or not, I refuse to get into the details about why I had no desire to meet him or the particulars of what he said last night. With Taylor, I know I’ll never hear the end of it.

“So, what did he say last night?”

“He thanked me for what I said and that was it.” Technically, that is it.

“And what did you say?”

“Uh…you’re welcome.” I couldn’t refrain from laughing at that. “What else was I supposed to say?”

“I don’t know. I just thought you two would have ended up speaking more. He’s been eager for that moment. He’s a really big fan. One of the things that I respect about him is how much respect he has for women. There’s no discrimination on his end. The man hosts a football clinic for women every year and the camp that he does for kids is also extended to girls. Whenever we talk, he always gives me props for my career path and then he fangirls over you. He goes on and on about the way you read off career stats and how much you care about the talent over everything else. He’s confident that you’re the best analyst on the network.”

“I’m not the best.” Surely, I’m working to get there, but as of right now, I’m still learning the ropes.

“It’s his opinion, not yours. Stop selling yourself short either way.”

“Well, I appreciate his kind words.”

“He’s a nice guy.” Our eyes met and mine instantly narrowed at her emphasis on his niceness. Initially, I didn’t understand the point of it until that all too familiar smile appeared on her face. “I’m just saying.”

“Okay.”

“Why are you so short about him?”

“Why are you so long winded about him? I thought Jesse’s your guy.”

“I don’t want Odell. I’ve never viewed him in that manner, but I’m not Stevie Wonder and neither are you. The man is fine as hell.”

“Okay.” I’ve encountered more athletes than I can count over the last four years. Initially, I found myself paying attention to the exterior of a few of them because all of that muscle is right there in front of you, but eventually, it became so normalized in my life that it began to roll right off of me. When you’re so focused on getting the job done, who gives a damn what they look like?

“You’re such a hermit crab.”

John slowly came to a stop in front of Terminal B at Newark Liberty International Airport. We’d made it in just enough time for her to comfortably get through TSA and to her gate without having to put her black Converses to the test.

“Text me when you land so that I can know you’ve made it back safely.” We tightly embraced one another as we always do whenever we greet and leave one another. “And don’t forget because you always do and then I have to call and curse you out.”

“I won’t forget. It’s been a fun week with you, even though I’m sure you’re drained because we’ve hung out just about every day after you left work. Finish up strong today and get some rest. I know you need it.” That’s a fact.

“I will. I’ll be in the bed with some sort of take out as soon as I get home tonight.”

“Fair enough. I’ll see you soon.”

“You will. Enjoy Jesse, because I overheard that he’s heading your way in two days and it’s not for work.” It was my turn to imply what actually is the truth. Despite her playful denial about what they feel for one another and how they navigate it, I know what she feels is sincere. Her face instantly lights up at the mere mention of his name.

“You bitch. Shut up. You enjoy your day because I have a feeling that it’s going to be a pleasant one.”

“It’s always pleasant for the most part.” There are days when it isn’t, but anyone with a job can attest to that no matter what position held or how much money is being made.

“Love you. I’ll text you.”

“Love you.”  

With two years in, I’m still considered to be a rookie around the studio and yet I can’t recall too many moments when I’ve ever felt like one. The executives, producers, and all of my colleagues have been pleasant. One of the surprising perks has been my dressing room. Like all spaces in the beginning, it started off as nothing more than a desk and a chair in the corner of the room. Since then, it has transitioned from looking like a prison cell to being filled with the warmth of nude shades and the comforting scent of eucalyptus and spearmint. There are a few finishing touches that I’m going to work on, but even without them, it’s nearly as comfortable as my den area at home.

“Good morning Sarai.” Amy poked her head into a small opening at the door in the same manner that she always does, as if it makes her presence any less invasive since she doesn’t knock.

“Morning.”

“So, I just want to make you aware of a slight change on the docket today. We’re going to pull about twenty minutes of the show’s typical running time for a one on one with you and OBJ. It’s just preseason talk. Of course, you two can get into your commentary about him. It’ll be a full circle moment to put a close to that.”

“Excuse me? Is Chad not available for it? I thought we’re having Chris Broussard and Terrell Owens on today?” On Monday we went over everything for the entire week and although we do briefings every morning, nothing has changed until now. I haven’t heard a single comment of possibility that he would be joining us here at the network today.

“As a content creator yourself, you know that it doesn’t make sense for Chad to do it. This is a last-minute call by Chip. I didn’t even know about it.”

“I don’t have any questions prepared for this. This is bullshit.” For the first time ever, I blurted out profanity in the workplace and despite not being proud of it, I couldn’t help myself. I hate being put on the spot with a passion. I am not spontaneous. I’m no daredevil. No, I don’t do everything by the book, but I damn sure try my best to do so, because I can’t stand fucked up results.

“I’d say just pull from priors and maybe draw up a few over the next thirty.”

“Priors? I’ve never interviewed him. Amy, you know this.”

“And I also know of your capabilities, so this will go smoothly. It’s not an in-depth sit down. It’s preseason talk. There’s nothing to stress about. You got it Sarai. You always have it.” Before I could respond, she slipped out of the door.

And that’s the problem. You let people pull some crap on you once and they’ll continue doing it if you don’t put your foot down. They’ve had me go into a random one on one with Serena Williams that wasn’t expected and then there was another with Kobe, prior to his retirement and him being my colleague. Granted, it’s what made him respect me, but I still would have preferred to be ready.

“Girl, you get to sit across from that fine ass man today. Can I meet him? You know I never ask you to meet anyone, but him? I just want to stand in front of him and see if he’s just as fine as he is in magazines and on television. I don’t even care about sports, but I’d make a sport out of slurping him.” I nearly choked on air. Annagjid salaciously ran her tongue over her lips as I glared at her though the mirror and had the audacity to follow up her lewd behavior with a pelvic thrust.

“Just for that, I’ll make sure he keeps his distance. I’d hate for him to refuse to ever come here again.”

“Did you say cum?”

“Anna!”

“I’m just saying. The man looks like a Greek God. That’s Zeus and I’m trying to be Hera.”

“You do know that Hera was most famous for being extremely jealous and vengeful against all of Zeus’ lovers and the illegitimate children he had with them, right?”

“And that’s exactly what I would do if that was my man. Let a bitch try to come after what’s mine and I’m whooping ass on sight.” Her antics never fail to make me laugh and I needed something to lighten the mood after Amy’s curveball in my day.

“You’re nuts. I swear.”

“And your ponytail is looking bomb too. I made sure those edges are slicked to perfection. This dress is hitting every curve and got the ass looking right. You’re ready.” I’d chosen an ash blue sleeveless Roland Mouret pencil dress for today. The only other option I had in mind was this exact dress in black, but it’s Friday and I’d rather not look like I’m heading to mourn someone’s death. It’s classy and there’s something about the golden zipper in the back that makes it sexy. My mother would be pleased. I doubt she’d deem me to be her son in a skirt today.

“I’m ready for what?”

“You have to look your best while in front of him. Every woman should.”

“For what? If I could, I’d interview him in sweatpants and a t-shirt. He’s not President Obama.”

“Obama and those Dumbo ears wishes he looked like that.”

“You know what? I’m not about to allow you to disrespect my forever President over a New York Giants wide receiver, so I’m going to act like you didn’t say that.”

“Oh, I said it. Know and remember that.”

Owens and Broussard were our first visitors which gave me more than enough time to figure out some type of format and direction to what I’d ask Beckham Jr. during every commercial break. I’d describe today’s show as rather lax because we spent far more time laughing at Chad and Terrell’s antics than we did speaking about the up and coming football season and the tension between Kyrie Irving and Lebron James that has lead to him wanting to be traded. You put a set of best friends who happen to be former NFL players together and what do you get? Endless jokes.

“Aye, don’t go too hard on Odell either. You nice as hell but you mean as hell too.” Chad squeezed my shoulders playfully as his warning went into one ear and right out of the other.

“I am not mean.”

“Shit. You boss my bald ass around all the time, but that’s okay, because I like it. You beat by the way. Face is snatched. Edges laid. The ratio between the front of that sandal and your big toe is on point. Apply pressure on they asses.” Chad’s my second favorite, after Fred. I don’t think he takes much of anything seriously and I appreciate it so much because it brightens my day around here.

“You are such a clown yo. Move.” Our laughter filled the set as he wrapped me into a bear hug from behind.

“Don’t laugh too hard because your foundation is going to crack and then you’re going to have smile lines.”

“Never that!” I learned a trick a long time ago to make sure that never happens.

The space where I’d be interviewing Beckham was just another set a few feet away. Though a bit too intimate in setting for what I planned on asking him, I’d take it. It’s less cameras and lights involved. There’s also much less man power around directing which way to sit, which camera to look into, and the timeframe in which you have to get your thought out before moving on to the next topic. When I think back to my days of strictly writing for ESPN Magazine and Sports Illustrated, I can admit that I miss it from time to time. There’s nothing quite like being able to sit down somewhere, with your laptop or even a pen and paper, and just pour your everything into whatever your focus is. I don’t want to say that broadcasting is microwavable journalism because that would be insulting, but it’s extremely fast paced and often time, stories are left behind as quickly as they’re told. I still have clippings of some of my favorite sports articles from my childhood. I have bookmarks online of articles that I’ve enjoyed over the years, some written by people I’ve met in school or elsewhere, and others from those I simply admire from afar. I still grab magazines from the newsstands in the city. Though I do watch all of the other shows on this network, I certainly do make sure to visit the website to check out what our online journalists are writing. There’s something special about studying a subject and descriptively writing about who they are in a manner that exudes the perfect imagery and it moves me unlike anything else. Though I don’t write as much as I used to, I still try to convey that art when I’m sitting down with someone. My aim is to humanize before anything else.

“Sarai Nazaire.”

His low-pitched and yet calming voice commanded my attention and I granted it by turning to where he stood. Much like a week ago, his piercing eyes pervaded my own, as his blonde curls poked out beyond the hood covering his head. He chose to be lax, in a warm green sweat suit and Nike sneakers.

“Hello.” I extended my hand for his own and our skin met in an instant. “How are you?”

“I’m well. How are you?”

“I’m well.”

“This is my mom, Heather.” It was easy to tell. He resembles the tall beauty quite a bit and they have identical smiles. Whenever he speaks of her, he hails her as his reason for not only being but also for the athleticism. She’d been a tremendous track star in her earlier days and even gave birth to him before she could head to the Olympic trials. It makes perfect sense for her to have believed in him when he assured her that he was going to be an NFL player when he was about eight years old.

“Mrs. Van Norman. It’s nice to meet you.” I released his hand and immediately reached for hers.

“Please call me Heather and it’s so nice to meet you. We’re huge fans. We all love you in our house.” If I were their complexion, I’m sure my cheeks would be the color of apples right now.

“Thank you so much.”

“Oh no, I have to thank you. You know, he’s a grown man but he’s also my baby and whenever he is or feels attacked, it feels like it’s coming down on me too. I have never heard anyone outside of friends and family speak as highly of him as you did and it caused such a shift in the way that he is reported on nowadays. He can be a knucklehead and all is fair when he’s having one of those moments, but it really does feel like he’s being given a fair chance to be himself without hell to pay for it.” I’m not a mother, but I can imagine what it feels like to turn on your television or surf the web and see such negativity about your child all over the place. It’s even worse when the negativity stems from situations that aren’t crimes. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing when I sounded off about him, but to hear the manner in which it comforted his mother means quite a bit to me.

“There’s no need to thank me for that, really. The one thing that the naysayers cannot negate is his talent. When he’s on the field, he performs. Everything else is just noise. I believe you birthed a once in a lifetime talent.”

“Thank you.” He voiced the answer for the both of them. She’d been too wrapped up in a huge smile to do so before him.

“So, I’m sure you’ve done a million of these. I’m only going to ask you a couple of questions. It’s a short segment. Anything off limits?” Usually, a manager or an agent would approach me prior to any interview and run down a list of details that are off limits. It’s a power move to make sure whoever they’re representing doesn’t have to face the music when asked a difficult question. If you’re smart, you’ll figure out a way to work around it or rework questions to the point of them telling on themselves.

“Nothing is barred. I’m cool with whatever you want to ask.”

“Oh yeah? So, I can ask about your girlfriends?” A light joke for what is sure to be a lighthearted dialogue between the two of us.

“I don’t have any, but you can ask. I don’t mind.” His broadly built shoulders shrugged while a smirk tugged on his lips.

“Is he telling the truth Heather?”

“I suppose so. I haven’t met anyone just yet. I’m waiting on it though. There’s going to have to be a point in time when someone comes to take over and take care of him.”

“You trying to get rid of me?” He glanced over his shoulder at his mom. I hope to muster up enough courage to ask her about her skincare routine because she has a glow that’s stunning.

“Of course not, but it’s the circle of life my child.”

As the room began to clear, I offered him the seat directly across from my own. I looked on, in observation of his body language. That’s the first marker of whether you’re going to have a smooth or difficult time. He chose to sit upright, with credence, and yet his back rested against the chair in an eased manner. Interestingly, he chose to mirror my actions by glancing over my frame to read me. The odd prickling in the nape of my neck that slowly spread all over was a sign that he’s doing a better job than I am.

“All set.”

It’s go time. This is my field and I’m the quarterback here.

“Welcome back to the Sports Haven. I’m Sarai Nazaire and we’re here with All Pro New York Giants wide receiver, Odell Beckham Jr. Odell, welcome to the show.” Much like our greeting earlier, we shook hands for the sake of the camera.

“Thank you for having me.”

“Now, you’re entering your fourth season with the Giants organization. You guys are coming off of a season where it all seemed to be gelling together towards the second half and that led to a playoff run which ended up being cut short by the Greenbay Packers. What are you most looking forward to going into this season?”

“Winning. I know it sounds cliché because that’s what everyone wants to do, but it really is what I’m looking forward to. It was disappointing to lose in the way that we did. It was a blowout but it just served as fuel for me in the off season. I went harder in everything, honestly. I took some for myself but even in the midst of that, I just worked.”

“Did that loss also cause you to have a hatred of boats?” I had to ask and thankfully, he took it in jest. The infamous photograph of a number of the Giants ballers and Trey Songz hanging out on a yacht in Miami just days before that Greenbay game instantly became a media sensation once they lost. The memes and blame game were non-stop for days. If I were them, I don’t know if I’d want to see another boat again let alone be on one.

“No, I still like boats. I spent time on a boat or two during this summer.”

“But given that you’re on this superstar level, you know that it comes with you living your life under a microscope more than most people do including many of your teammates. So how are you handling that now? For most people, it digs under their skin and it’s understandably so. I know you’ve had your moments of frustration. Unfortunately, it’s not something that’s not going to change. All good comes with bits of ugliness, right?”

“Right. One of the things I’m doing is trying to stay out of the microscope. I’ve found myself spending a lot more time at home and away from anything that draws too much attention to me. It’s been different but in a good way. It feels good to be able to comfortably strip away the guard that you have to keep up because of that microscope. Also, I’ve really taught myself not to take things so personally. I play a position in a sport and it comes with all of that, so I had to realize that it’s not so much of an attack on me and even if it is, it all really stems from that position. I can’t allow that to dictate how I live my life or have my happiness.”

“And you had that awakening during this off season?”

“Yeah. I spent a lot of time reflecting and dealing with a lot of emotions that I’ve never felt before and even some pain that I’ve never felt before. Some of it involved football and there were things that didn’t. I had to sort that out and it did a lot of good for me.” I’m always impressed when I hear athletes speak on their mental health. The world views them as figures who play a sport for a living and earns far more money than they deserve to have simply for being entertainers. The majority of them make more money than the doctors who repair them after injury, which can be quite mind boggling when you think about it. Because of that, spectators believe they’re entitled to dictate the manner in which these people live their lives, the way in which they speak, and the level that they believe each and every one of them should be performing at on the field day after day. People wave the entitlement flag at them when they’re not being puppets on a string and never once take the time out to think about the emotional strain the pressure of impressing an entire public of people can put on a person. I’ve had many conversations, off the record, with athletes who have admitted they’ve fell out of love with the sport they play and represent because of the unnecessarily harsh scrutiny and relentless pressure. 

“Do you feel like there are people who want you to fail?

“That comes with the territory. There are a lot of people who do, but it’s fuel for me. It serves as motivation for me to continuing grinding and moving forward for those who do support and believe in me. They’re the most important to me. I meet so many people who tell me that I inspire them to be great. On Instagram I see and sometimes I meet kids who go to their barbers and get the dye and haircut done. I can’t let down everyone who buys a jersey to represent me. After what you said about me, I can’t let you down either.” I held my breath as a faint fluttering filled my core and my body’s response was to reposition itself in the seat. My follow up question instantly became stuck in my throat.

“How does this new found inner peace contribute to the up and coming season and to the Giants locker room? How has Odell improved?”

“I’ve become a better route runner and catcher, but I think the most important part that I needed and have become is a better teammate and listener. I’m giving more and putting more into everything. I can feel it in my conditioning, I put it to the test at training camp, and I’m assured in what I intend to bring to the field this season. I’m excited.”

“I’ve been looking into the offense. There’s Brandon Marshall and your young tight end. Sterling Shepard is looking good. I think you guys have a good season ahead of you.”

“Yeah, the defense has always been there, so it’s up to us to get the job done and I think we’re in a pretty good position. We learned from that disappointment at the top of the year.”

“I’m looking forward to it Beckham.”

“You have to come to a game then. Not as an analyst though, just as a normal citizen coming out to enjoy some Sunday night football.” My laughter infectiously sparked his own fit of giggles and the smile that remained on his face warmed my soul like a ray of sunshine. Does this happen with everyone who sits across from him? How the hell does anyone stay angry with this guy?

“That sounds like a plan. I’m about twenty minutes from the stadium.

“And you have to wear this.” I hadn’t even noticed there was a jersey hanging behind his chair. What made me roar in laughter wasn’t the jersey, but the fact that the numbers were in snakeskin. I’ve been gifted many jerseys but I’ve never seen one customized like that. It’s interesting looking in a good way. I’d wear that as a cute top for a chill outing with friends if the circumstances were different.

“I’ve seen a lot of football jerseys but with snakeskin? Never. Thank you.” I held it up for the camera to see for the sake of good TV and placed it across my lap.

“You’re welcome.”

“Odell, it’s always a pleasure to have you up here. You have to come back soon. I wish you all the best on this up and coming season.”

“Thank you, Sarai.” Yet again, we shook hands and I held up the jersey once more before we officially wrapped.

I’m usually a bit more courteous in the way I send guests off before disappearing into my dressing room, but my goodbye was brief and my heel clad feet couldn’t move fast enough to escape the odd tension in the room. I’ve never wanted him to feel like he owes it to me to be nicer than necessary because I said a couple of decent words about him. While I don’t believe that he has any ulterior motives, I do wonder if there’s this sense of sympathy for the manner in which it worked for and against me. I don’t want to be Odell Beckham Jr.’s charity case because he isn’t mine and he certainly wasn’t that day either. I did my job as an analyst; nothing more or less.

Though she insisted on meeting him, Annagjid left for a weekend at home in Philadelphia but made sure to send me a text message ogling over the way Beckham’s sweatpants hugged his thighs throughout the interview. I’m thankful she’s gone, because if given the opportunity, she would have audaciously told him what I read in that message and it would have been the reason I combusted into a pillar of dust out of sheer embarrassment. With that segment done and no Podcast episodes needing to be recorded today, I can get started on my weekend. I’m not only going to grab a bottle of red wine on my way home, but I’m leaving my favorite spirit shop with two. Once I have my take out ordered, I’ll curl up on the floor in front of my living room table a la Olivia Pope and skim through whatever the premium networks are offering OnDemand. I’m behind on Homeland. Then again, I’m way behind on House of Cards, so a lonesome Netflix and chill sounds much better.

“Come in!” My heels were idly lying next to my chair. I walking out of here in Converses. The bougie can go for the week. Street chic is where it’s at.

“Sarai?”

I’m convinced I’m suffering a karma for something that I don’t quite remember doing or the universe is trolling the shit out of me. Whichever way you put it, over the course of these last seven days, all of the silent and yet minimal requests I’ve had for God and my subconscious have not only been the opposite, but have also been a ferocious time frame of mental gymnastics.

“Beckham. What’s up?” With no hesitation, he stepped inside and closed the door behind himself. The oxygen supply is diminishing as we speak.

“About those tickets. Look.” There were two of them in his hand.

“You never said anything about tickets.” He didn’t. He only encouraged me to come out and support the team. I figured it was in jest.

“How could I invite you to a game and not have tickets for you? These are for the Philly game. We play the Cowboys during week one and the Lions during week two, but I feel like our Philly games are super competitive and fun to watch. It’s the better choice.”

“At home or in Philly? You really didn’t have to do this.” And he shouldn’t have. It’ll only worsen the claim that I baby him and deliberately overlook his transgressions because I have a soft spot for the young players. I never want to be differentiated based upon gender but it’s the way of life and I get the short end of the stick depending upon what I say and who it’s in reference to. It goes beyond people questioning my job and instead, they question my character. My credentials are online for all to see and yet I still am accused of fucking my way to the top. Gossip blogs have connected my pussy to every athlete that has stood within five feet of me and I don’t personally know any of them beyond the former ones I work alongside five days a week. My dating life is endlessly analyzed though the only thing I’m in a relationship with has batteries and sits inside of my bedside drawer. I don’t know what narrative will be painted if a camera catches me at one of this man’s games and I don’t want to know. I’m looking forward to the day when I’m no longer identified by his story. I’d like to think he’s just as sick of seeing my name synonymous with his in the headlines.

“In Philly. I can get you a ride out there if you need one. 

“I’m sure that I can manage. I don’t have a car, but I’m looking into a couple of Mercedes Benz dealerships in New Jersey so that I can finally get the car that I’ve been eyeing.”

“What kind? My guy Phil Campbell manages the inventory in both Manhattan and Paramus. I can reach out to him for you. He’s a cars guy, believe me when I tell you. He’ll get you right for sure. 

“Nothing too special. Just an A-Class sedan for now. My pockets aren’t as deep as yours.”

“I’m still on my rookie contract. I wouldn’t say they’re that deep.” Rookie contract or not, with his Nike deal and all of the other endorsements he has, he’s a millionaire many times over already.

“Well I’ll tell you this much, my ESPN contract certainly isn’t worth ten point four million dollars.”

“It should be.” This guy. What a paradox.

“So, this Phil guy can help out?” I don’t care about cars enough to research specs and special features. “All I want is a sunroof, seat warmers for the winter, and an amazing sound system. Everything else is whatever, honesty.”

“He knows his shit. I can send him your information. Knowing him, he’ll get back in touch with you within the next hour or so.” Help is help and my pride can shrink enough to get out of the way when it comes to something that I don’t know. I’ve had my fair share of being loud and wrong and it’s not fun being the idiot in the room once it’s all said and done.

“Okay, hold on.” On my desk, I have my ESPN cards to purposelessly give out in exchange for the management or agent cards of our guests. In my wallet, I keep a few business cards where my personal phone number and e-mail are for the sake of obeying my father’s rule about a business card being “far more professional” than stating your phone number out loud while they plug it into their phone. I don’t give much of those out either. “This is my business card. My e-mail and number is there. You can give him the information whenever. I’m not in that much of a rush.”

“I’ll send it to him in a few minutes, that way you’ll be able to go over the specifics about whatever you want.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing. So, about that Philly game. You’ll be there?”

“I’ll try to make it out.” I’m not going. I wish he had of gifted these to a super fan who would have loved to be in attendance.

“Okay then. I’m looking forward to seeing you there. I already helped with one part of your outfit; you just have to figure out the rest.”

“Oh, I’m supposed to be in Giants gear? What makes you so sure that I’m not an Eagles fan? It’s looking like they’re going to have a damn good season this year.”

“If you are, I intend to change your mind.”

“Hm.” The universe can kiss my black ass and it’s quite black by the way.

“I’ll see you soon Sarai Nazaire.” What’s his fascination with saying my first and last name? I’ve never met anyone who has done that and admittedly, it doesn’t roll off of anyone’s tongue in the manner that it does his. Maybe it’s the French connection in Louisiana that aids in him pronouncing it so well.

“Goodbye Beckham.”

Last Friday I had no desire to hear anything playing on the radio and yet the end of this week has John and I bopping to my best of the 90s Hip-Hop playlist on Apple Music.  Who the hell wouldn’t start an eighty-seven-degree Friday off with Craig Mack’s “Flava In Ya Ear” remix and an Oreo Cookie Blizzard from the Dairy Queen? The next stop is for the wine and then I’m free to lounge in my living room in nothing more than an old t-shirt and the lace black thong covering my lower half. I may even turn my phone on “Do Not Disturb” until sometime tomorrow. Hell, is Monday morning a stretch?

The buzzing of my phone in my lap paused my backseat party and the foreign number along the screen riddled me into confusion.

You’re not an A-Class sedan type of woman. That’s not for you. An E-Class Coupe fits your mold; sophisticated, sleek, and breathtaking. If I had a say so, that’s what you’d leave the dealership with, but I don’t. Maybe you’ll take my advice? Have a great weekend Sarai Nazaire.

My eyes panned down to observe the minor trembling of my hand and the appetizing blizzard that was now turning into a milkshake.

Or maybe I’ll throw my phone into the Hudson River.