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#[rolls up my sleeves and walks towards the 9 notifs i have like it's the avengers]
keeps-ache · 29 days
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nobody better boop me while i'm gone. you better not 🫵 don't do it. dooon't do it
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hoonhrt · 3 years
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MUSIC SHOP 
: pairing — idol! heeseung x music store worker! reader 
: genre — fluff 
: album recc. — case study 01 by daniel caesar and any of the albums i mentioned throughout the story! 
: a/n — this is a little more on the lengthier side so please know that before reading! (i couldn’t help myself i luv hee too much) 
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it was a slow day at the shop. the dim fairy lights hung around lowly, making the atmosphere feel even slower. you walked around the store pushing a small grey cart that held all the albums, records, and cassette tapes one could ever imagine of, placing everything in their correct spots for future consumers to find. 
the sound of a faint bell was heard from the back of the store. where you were, indicating that someone had came in. you flatten out the front of your sweater and rush to greet the costumer. you are met with a tall man dressed in all black from head to toe, water droplets fell off the shoulder of his jacket and you make a mental note to mop the floor later. 
“hello! welcome to moonshines music. please let me know if you need help with anything, i’ll be happy to assist!” you cheerfully exclaim. you welcome costumers with a joyful energy that even cheers them up, it was your thing. the costumer pulled down the black mask from his face and waited for you to react. he was a slightly astonished when a reaction never came. no gasps, no eyes widening, no realization of who he was. just you with a firm smile on your face waiting for him to walk away and start shopping. he eyes you for a little before nodding his head and makes his way to the direction of the CD albums.
he pondered this feeling for a little. he wasn’t used to not being recognized. i mean, everyone knows him. he was on ever magazine cover and topped all the charts with his music. his face was plastered on every product poster that covered the walls of the busy city. so how could you not? he thinks that maybe you didn’t want to scare him off or bother him with pictures and autographs,  inflating his ego a little bit. but still, why did you not say anything? 
“excuse me! do you mind helping me out?” you could hear his voice from across the store as he shouted for you. jogging from your previous to his still figure. 
“how can i help you?” continuing on your energetic personality. he didn’t have a real reason to ask for help, he was just too intrigued by you and needed a reason to converse with you. he looks around the store frantically for a minuet before looking back behind him to the CD’s he initially walked towards. “can you choose an album for me?” he blurts in your face loudly. 
this wasn’t the first time someone asked for music recommendations but he walked in with confidence so you assumed he was a man who knew his music. “uhh yes um— do you perhaps have favourite genre that you maybe like?” you question him. he just stares at you, his lips folded in with a blank expression on his face. he shakes his head no. you politely nod again, now even more conflicted with what to recommend. you trail your eyes around the store till you see through the window next to the door. the sky is crying, whilst gray clouds surround it. the streetlight emitting an orange hue that reflect the fallen rain drops on the glass and you suddenly remember the small drops of water that trickled down his jacket sleeve when he first entered the store. 
walking behind him you scan for the letter D section and begin to search for the album. letting out a soft ‘hmm’ before pulling out the album and handing it to him. “Case Study 01 by Daniel Caesar. perfect for rainy days when you aren’t lost in your thoughts.” you end with a smile on your face. ‘so they really have no idea to who I am, huh’ he thinks to himself. he looks down at the album in his hands than looking back up at you. a gentle smile reaching his lips. he follows you to the cashier register and pushes the album towards you. “that’ll be $10.15! card or cash?” he whips out his wallet and takes out a credit card. you can’t help but notice it was a black card, a card only the richest of people have. you wonder how this man can be so rich and why he is buying from a tiny music store in the middle of a unknown area. 
you’re pulled away from your thoughts when the sound of the machine goes off,  indicating the purchase has gone through. you delicately place the album into a tiny bag and hand it over to him with glee. “enjoy the album sir! if you ever do comeback, let me know what you thought about it!” you say in a courteous manner. the young man now looks at you with a toothy grin on display for you to awe at. he nods in affirmation before exiting. the atmosphere becoming quiet again. you hoped to see that man again. 
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another week has rolled around. you hum under your breath a silly little tune from a song on one of your many playlists, sending another customer off a new record they seemed to be extremely excited about. your job wasn’t much but seeing people share the same love for music as you was something that never failed to make you love life. wiping down the cashier, you hear the door chime and see the same handsome man from last week. you catch a glimpse of the clear sky and the natural light of the sun from out the door as he enters. 
“i LOVED that album! you described it literally perfectly, it fit the vibes of the weather sooo much but didn’t leave me agonizing about life like how the rain usually makes me feel.” it made you so happy and almost accomplished to have someone come back and praise you for your music choice. you were about to start telling him it was no big deal before he proposes, again, to choose another album for him. you look at him a little unsure, you honestly didn’t know what to give him this time and you were scared he wouldn’t like it this time. he can see the anxiety flush over your face but lets you know he is looking for something this time. “give me your childhood favourite album. like, you know every single lyric for every song on this album.” your eyes go wide as you practically jump towards the shelf. he giggles quietly, thinking how cute you looked. 
you prance towards the shelf knowing exactly where it was. in your hands was the Up All Night by One Direction, you shove the album into his hands with a passionate smile. he looks at you and tries to hide his judgment from you, which doesn’t work as you can see his eyebrow arch up and study the album in slight disgust. “hey! i danced to this album every night before i went to sleep for 3 years as a kid okay? it’s my favourite album!” your bottom lip pushes out, gazing at him with eyes the resemble a cute puppy. he throws his head back lets out a laugh that you think you could listen to for hours on end. 
just as the prior week, he passes you the album to scan through and pulls out his card to pay. he was about to make his way out before you stop him. “can I have your name?” you requested. you took a liking to the kind guy, he had a pretty face and laugh that you particularly enjoyed. he checks his phone and swiftly swipes through the millions of notifications he has, then gazing back up at you. a genuine look plastered on your face. a look that feigned innocence, kept promises, and truly enjoyed life for what it was. “heeseung. my name is heeseung.” 
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you tug the key out of the door lock with a little force. the moon created a source of light and comfort as you made your way away from the shop and towards the subway station. you worked longer than usual and fatigue was the only thing felt within your weak bones. a car pulled up next to you, the window rolled down and revealed the person that has been occupying your thoughts recently, heeseung. 
“on your way home?” you nod. “hop in, i’ll drive you home, we can listen to some music while we’re at it.” now you usually don’t just get into random peoples car, but you trusted him. who else would listen One Direction because someone asked them to? 
his car was black from top to bottom, mirroring his outfits that he always wore. the windows were tinted and it looked intimidating from the outside, but on the inside sat a doe-eyed boy with the prettiest smile to exist. heeseung’s hand reaches out to turn up the volume of the car sound system. the sound of Frank Ocean’s voice fills up the empty sound within his car. it was song you were unfamiliar with. you ask what song this was and he lets out a dramatic gasp, almost looking offended. “you DON’T know this song? I guess pretty people can have flaws huh,” he turns his head to watch you flush a pink shade that can still be seen despite the darkness. a sight he thinks is quiet lovable. 
the car ride to your home lasted much shorter than you wished it did. you two talked about everything under the moon. favourite songs, old childhood friends, past lovers. heeseung enjoyed the fact that you didn’t know his career identity. to the world he was Lee Heeseung, world renowned singer and model, but to you he was just, heeseung. a young boy who loved music and loved the world involved around it. you made him feel like a regular person again. 
as you open the car door to make way into the glass doors of your apartment complex, heeseung grabs your wrist and pulls you back into the car. “how about... i lend you my favourite album this time, and next week on—” he checks the schedule his manager sent him, “saturday at 6 pm, i pick you up and we can talk more about it hm?” he holds his phone towards you with a cheeky smile on his face. you shake your head in disbelief as you bit back a smile of your own that is creeping on to your face. “I’ll see you then, hee.” your heart skipping beats as you walk away from the running vehicle. 
unbeknownst to you, an excited heeseung punches the air rapidly with excitement. he silently screams into the night like a kid. feeling as if he was on cloud 9 to have scored a date with someone who’s a) the most beautiful person he’s ever seen and b) someone who likes him for his truest self. 
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dreamiehrs · 3 years
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a Christmas miracle ➛ z.cl
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genre: fluff, comedy/crack, bestfriend!chenle, gender neutral reader, hurt/comfort somewhat
pairing: zhong chenle x reader
word count: 2,588 words
warning(s): some swearing
summary: Christmas had been the same old same old holiday for you and your family for plenty of years now, fully embracing the tradition of meeting up with family, exchanging presents, and enjoying each other’s presence on Christmas day. however, this year seemed to feel quite different, with your family quite literally forgetting that Christmas even existed, and with you all stuck in your apartment alone in the snowy city, you weren’t so sure what you were going to do for Christmas this year. unbeknownst to you, though, your sneaky best friend had a trick up his sleeve, and he was determined to make this Christmas one you’ll remember forever.
note: this is a part of mylin’s @suh-insane​ and sunny’s @neocitybynight​ Walking in a Winter Wonderland collab! this is my first time participating in a collab solely for Christmas, so I hope you all enjoy this fic of mine! Merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates it! I hope you all have an amazing and safe Christmas this year, and I just wanted to let you all know that I appreciate and love you guys so so SO much! (and to the people who don’t celebrate it, I still hope you all have a wonderful day nonetheless!)
prompts chosen: “when we finally kiss goodnight how I’ll hate going out in the storm! but if you’ll really hold me tight all the way home I’ll be warm.” + “that’s what Christmas memories are made from. they’re not planned; they’re not scheduled. nobody puts them in their blackberry. they just happen.”
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for the past few months, time seemed to fly by without leaving a trace behind, and before you knew it, it was already Christmas day. if it was any other year, you would’ve woken up earlier, around 6 AM to be precise, and start your trek to your parents house with their gifts in hand. however, since your parents and the rest of your family got caught up in other ordeals, and quite literally forgot that Christmas even existed, you had woken up quite later than 6 AM. 9 AM, if you were being specific.
you had still bought your family presents for Christmas, of course, and took the time to wrap them and spiffy them up yourself with various different kinds of Christmas wrapping paper you’ve collected over the years as a pro wrapper (in actuality, it was just your mother giving you extra wrapping paper when she accidentally bought too much, so you weren’t entirely a pro wrapper, per se). what you were trying to say is that you put a lot of thought into buying and decorating presents for your family, and you were sort of down about how you wouldn’t be able to give them their presents in person this year.
basically, what you were trying to get across is that you quite literally had no plans for Christmas this year, and you were probably going to spend your entire day wailing away in your apartment.
nonetheless, you pulled yourself out of bed after being in deep thought for thirty minutes straight, and decided to actually not wail away in your apartment for the rest of the day. it was time to be festive, you thought to yourself, as you slowly made your way around your room to move your curtains aside to let some sunlight seep in. although you were in a brooding mood, you didn’t entirely want your room to reflect that.
you huff to yourself as you slide your feet against the carpet floor, swinging open your closet doors and glancing over all of your clothes, none of them really catching your attention. you sigh before closing both of your closet doors dramatically, turning around and heading towards your dresser. you can faintly hear your phone buzz on your nightstand as you pull on one of the knobs on one of your dresser drawers that contains your pajama pants. you grab a random pair of snug pajama pants and opt to keep the same pajama shirt you wore to bed last night on before heading to the bathroom to change.
after taking some time to get dressed and brush your teeth, you finally exit your bathroom and toss the pajama shorts you wore last night in your hamper. you snatch your phone and stash it in your pocket before making your way towards your miniature kitchen. you promptly grab your kettle and fill it up with water, waiting for it to reach the third line before placing it on your stove. you move the dial until its exactly on high temperature, and you’re about to start to make yourself breakfast until you feel your phone buzz in your pocket.
fed up with how active your phone had been for the past thirty minutes, you finally fish your phone out of your pocket and lean against the counter next to your stove.
your phone contained the usual notifications, such as Instagram likes, Team Snapchat sending you a Christmas snap, your best friend chenle spamming your phone- wait, your best friend chenle spamming your phone? that was FAR from your usual notifications, and you were honestly quite surprised that he was contacting you on Christmas day this year. he’s usually spending it with his family all day, and never texts you back until he gets back home, which is around eight PM.
without thinking, you unlock your phone and tap on the messages icon, and your jaw almost drops when you see how many messages he sent you within the past few hours. since 6 AM, chenle has sent you over one hundred messages, and for once, you were grateful that you were a heavy sleeper, because if you were a light sleeper and woke up to every single one of his messages, you would’ve lost your mind.
you [9:45 AM]: please chenle what do you WANT FROM ME
lele the dumdum [9:45 AM]: WOW YOU’VE FINALLY WOKEN UP FROM UR DEEP SLUMBER
lele the dumdum [9:45 AM]: I THOUGHT U WERE NEVER GOING TO WAKE UP
lele the dumdum [9:46 AM]: took u long enough smh
you [9:46 AM]: ...is this really how you’re going to treat me on Christmas day??
lele the dumdum [9:46 AM]: I treat you like this all the time. what makes you think that today’s gonna be any different?
you [9:47 AM]: …
lele the dumdum [9:47 AM]: anyways… MY GORGEOUS WONDERFUL BESTIE WHAT DO U HAVE PLANNED FOR CHRISTMAS TODAY
lele the dumdum [9:48 AM]: DO ANY OF UR PLANS INVOLVE ME POTENTIALLY COMING OVER??? O.O
you [9:48 AM]: is this why you’ve been spamming my phone SINCE 6 AM!?!?!
you [9:48 AM]: also why were you awake at 6 am anyways
you [9:49 AM]: did your crush finally text you back or are you still drowning in loneliness like usual
lele the dumdum [9:50 AM]: I don’t even have a crush??? who told you that false information
you [9:50 AM]: the little elves running around my house whispered it in my ear last night
lele the dumdum [9:51 AM]: I think you’re going to delusional
you [9:51 AM]: I wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case at this point
lele the dumdum [9:51 AM]: MOVING ON
lele the dumdum [9:52 AM]: WHAT DO U HAVE PLANNED
lele the dumdum [9:52 AM]: I NEED TO KNOW THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT
you [9:53 AM]: me planning to wail in sorrow all day is very important to you??
lele the dumdum [9:53 AM]: ...excuse me what?? UR GOING TO WAIL IN SORROW ALL DAY ON CHRISTMAS DAY!?!?
lele the dumdum [9:54 AM]: this is not acceptable. I am coming over right now to spread some of my FESTIVENESS AND JOLLINESS with you :D
you [9:55 AM]: chenle you really don’t have to-
lele the dumdum [9:55 AM]: TOO BAD IM OMW RN AS WE SPEAK
you [9:56 AM]: at least bring some festivities, games, and snacks with you 🙄
lele the dumdum [9:56 AM]: oh shit you have a point
lele the dumdum [9:57 AM]: BRB ILL BE THERE IN 30
you knew that once chenle had made his mind up about something, he wasn’t going to change it that easily, so it would be futile to try and stop him now. you don't bother replying to his last message, and you shove your phone back in your pocket a few moments before your kettle whistles. you move on from chenle tormenting you for twelve minutes straight and make yourself some tea and breakfast instead.
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it was now around 10:30 AM, and you had just finished digesting your breakfast when you feel your phone buzz in your pocket again. you were lying down on your small, beige couch, with your cold tea sat on the coffee table a few feet away. you were still in your pajamas, with no intent of changing into actual clothes anytime soon.
once again, you fish your phone out of your pocket to see what nonsense chenle was texting you this time.
lele the dumdum [10:31 AM]: open up, bitch
you [10:31 AM]: I thought I gave you a spare key??
lele the dumdum [10:32 AM]: shit I forgot it
lele the dumdum [10:32 AM]: anyways OPEN UP
you lazily lift yourself up from off of your couch, grasping your mug of cold tea on the way to the door. you take your time unlocking your door, halfly because you felt like annoying chenle, and halfly because you were just over today in general.
the first thing that stands out to you once you swing open your front door is how different your outfit looks compared to chenle. he was all bundled up with plenty of layers to keep him warm while adventuring the city, and meanwhile you adorned white and pink striped pajamas with socks on. you also noticed that he had a dark grey bookbag on his back, and was holding two full bags in his hands.
the two of you stare at each other for a few more seconds until chenle breaks the silence with: “I think this is the most I’ve seen you look like a complete old person. there have been other times, but the old person persona is just jumping out at me right now.”
you roll your eyes. “don’t say that when you yourself have dressed up as an old person before.”
“yeah, yeah,” he brushes you off, passing by you to slip his shoes off and to take off his five hundred layers. “it doesn’t matter whether you look like an old person, it mainly matters whether you have the spirit of an old person, you know?”
“I cannot comprehend your words this early in the morning. we can have a conversation about whether I act like an old person later.” you say as you watch him remove his large, dark green jacket and place it onto your coat rack. you can hear him scoff at your remark, and you grin as you see the corners of his mouth lift up slightly.
“early in the morning? y/n it’s only-” he pauses to check his phone “10:32 AM. that’s early for you?”
“I woke up at 9 AM, you dum.”
“oh,” he swivels around to face you after taking his shoes off and removing all of his additional layers. “makes sense, I guess. you’ve only been awake for an hour and a half, so you’re probably not fully awake yet. I mean, I’ve been awake since 6 am, and I’m bursting with energy compared to you.”
you give him a deadpan expression in response to what he said, and he can’t help but burst out laughing at your reaction. he steps up beside you and pats your shoulder gently. “well, besides that, I’m gonna be the one who helps you burst with energy like I am right now! follow me!” he whisper-shouts a few inches away from your ear, and you can feel his hand leave your shoulder and grasp your right hand in a matter of seconds.
he leads you back towards your couch, and even somehow manages to help you set your mug down even though he has bags in his hands. the two of you plop down on your couch, and you almost melt at how soft and comfortable your couch was. you closed your eyes for a few seconds as chenle rustled through his bags beside you, and you don’t know how much time has passed when chenle starts to snap his fingers at you.
“y/n, I am not going to deal with your sleepy ass right now. I spent around forty minutes scurrying around the city to find things to lift your mood, and I am not going to let those forty minutes go to waste just because you’re tired.”
you groan and roll to the other side, facing away from chenle. “just five more minutes…”
surprisingly, you’re met by silence in response to your wish of wanting five more minutes of rest, but that silence doesn’t last when you feel something cold touch your face.
you screech and immediately open your eyes to witness chenle pressing an ice cube onto your forehead. you swat the ice cube off of your forehead as quick as you can, and stare up at chenle like he’s gone completely mad. “what was that for?”
he grins proudly. his plan had worked. “awake now? great. now, help me figure out what we should do first.”
“I think you’ve gone mad. I cannot believe you just woke me up by pressing an ice cube onto my forehead.” you complain, still feeling the coldness of the ice cube on your forehead. when you finally move to face him now, you see that he had brought plenty of things for you two to entertain yourselves.
“I could’ve done worse things, like dip my hand into freezing water and press it against your face, but I was feeling generous today, so I decided to spare you the pain.”
you scoff. “right. anyways, what’d you bring?”
he glances at you excitedly before getting into it. “well, I brought plenty of snacks, some fizzy drinks, some board games, some movies I rented that we could watch together, some candy, etc. I honestly brought everything that I thought you would like with me, so I really hope all of this is enough to make your Christmas day a little bit more festive. I may have also bought you a present, but besides that… let’s get this party started! ...y/n?”
he tears his gaze away from the couch to up to your face, and you don’t entirely register that you’re crying until a few minutes after staring into his eyes. “oh, I’m sorry… I just… I’m just really grateful that you decided to come all this way to cheer me up on Christmas day, and you brought so many things with you as well to make me feel better so… thank you, chenle.”
he beams at you even though he can feel a tear threatening to fall from his left eye, and instead of letting you see him cry as well, he quickly wraps his arms around your figure, bringing you into a tight hug. “of course, y/n. you know I’d do anything for you, right? if you’re down, I’m going to cheer you up in some way, shape, or form, and if you feel like watching the world burn, then I’ll be right by your side.”
“awh, stop it, you’re going to make me cry even more.” you faintly hit his back with your hand, and he giggles as a few tears fall down his face.
the two of you stay like that for a good five more minutes, which is enough time for chenle to regain his composure and act like he didn’t shed a few tears in the process. he slowly leaves your grasp, taking a good look at your face and wiping some tears off of your face with his thumb. “you know what I think will make you feel better?”
you grin. “what?”
he smiles before swiveling around to rustle through his bookbag, and your eyes widen when you finally process what he’s up to.
the next moment happens so quickly you can barely register that it’s happening. chenle swivels around with two nerf guns in his hands, throws you one that lands perfectly in your arms, and declares: “me completely destroying you in a nerf gun battle will make you feel better.” before he releases fire on you.
you shriek as you run across your apartment, trying to avoid the plastic bullets that chenle was littering your apartment with. eventually, he does win the battle, and it does make you feel better in the end, but let’s not mention that or else his ego will run wild, alright?
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dontcallmebabyxx · 3 years
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Chapter 1: English Boy
Sage's POV:
7:00am and the alarm went off. It's been 3 days of this new lifestyle I'm trying to live and I'm actually enjoying the extra time I have in the mornings, given the fact I used to wake up somewhere around 11am, but hey! Adulting and productivity at it's finest, or so I like to believe.
I recently moved to L.A to pursue that dreamy fresh start every 20-something year old dreams of. After just a few days here, I found a job in a little coffee shop and have been working there since, it's really cool actually, the place is amazing, the staff is nice and I'm a whore for coffee so it's a win-win situation.
Getting out of bed after checking my phone for any notifications that I might have missed in my sleep, but all I got were a bunch of messages from my sister having a crisis after finishing the last episode of The Vampire Diaries, and I mean... I get her.
I'm really taking this whole new and improved lifestyle very seriously, I'm meditating and everything, even lighting some incense here and there to get the whole scene and mood going.
After my whole yogi moment I went to the bathroom and started getting ready for work. I stared at myself in the mirror and said my daily affirmations: "I'm smart, I'm capable, I'm a bad bitch, I'm worth it, and I'm loved" I tell myself pushing back the memories as I say that last part. Today is going to be a good day because I have an early shift so that means I get to work with my sister, who was the one that got me the job in the first place.
I am pretty basic when it comes to clothes and always prioritize comfort over looks, unless I go out. Only then and there will I risk my wellbeing and wear high heels and tiny ass dresses to remind myself that I can also be THAT bitch. On the day to day I'm pretty basic. I really like warm colors so most of my closet is based around that color scheme.
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I made my way (downtown) in this chaotic ass, traffic-filled city that I love very much, hating myself for even thinking about A Thousand Miles as I drive myself to work and officially start my day.
After saying hi to the staff and starting getting everything ready, Sydney arrives.
"I'm sorry! I overslept" Syd said as she rushed behind the counter to the back of the shop and got ready for her shift.
"Chill, it's still pretty early. You still have 20 minutes and I already got everything set up" I reassured her.
"You're an angel, thanks" she said, coming behind me and hugging me.
A few hours into the shift I started cleaning some tables and saw a group of people coming in. And as I was about to greet them, I heard a familiar voice.
"Sage?" I looked at her and recognized her immediately.
"Holy shit Sarah!" I said smiling and hugging her, she hugged me back and introduced me to her friends.
"Guys, this is Sage. We were neighbors back in London". "This is Charlotte" she said and Charlotte greeted me with a hug
"So nice to meet you" She said with a big smile on her face.
"You too!" I said, smiling back.
"And this is Ny", Sarah said gesturing towards her
"Hi!" She said and we hugged too.
We walked to the counter and I took their order.
"Sydney? Since when do you two live here?" Sarah said as soon as she saw my sister.
"We moved here with my dad a few months ago, mom stayed back in London though" Sydney explained smiling at her.
As I gave them their order, Sarah said "we should get together, catch up and drink some wine like our moms did when we were little, it's our time to have those kinds of nights" Us three laughed remembering those days and how close our moms are. "The girls and the rest of the group are coming over to my house tomorrow for dinner and you two are coming" she gave me a stern look knowing that I'm not one to be around many people.
"Fine, we'll be there" Syd and I agreed, exchanging phone numbers with Sarah and getting back to work.
*The next day*
It was nearly 4:00 pm when I left work after my shift ended. Sarah's dinner started at 9:00 but she texted me earlier telling me to be there at 7:00 so we could have some time to catch up just the two of us.
I got home and decided to call my mom to tell her about yesterday.
"Hi mom" I greeted her as she answered the FaceTime call.
"Hi sweetie, how was your day? I'm sorry I couldn't call you back yesterday, the girls came over and we had a wine night" she said laughing.
"It's fine mom, don't worry" I reassured her, "Speaking of wine nights, I ran into Sarah yesterday at the cafe.
"Sarah Jones? Wow, you two hadn't seen each other since she moved! How is she?".
"She's great. I'm going to her house today to catch up and meet some of her friends" I told her.
"I heard from her mom that she's drumming for this English boy, maybe you know him!" She said
"Wouldn't know mom, I just recently started following her social media and haven't had the time to stalk her" I said laughing and she joined me.
We talked just for a little while given the time zone, then said our goodbyes because it was getting late and I had to start getting ready. I headed to my bathroom and began undressing as I put on some music. I chose one of my favorite playlists called "Middle School Me" which is basically my indie-emo-punk phase and I love it.
*Something Good Can Work* started playing and I can't help but move to the little beat as I entered the shower. I did the usual and washed my hair so it's easier to style later.
I finished my shower, wrapping myself in a towel and wrapping my hair on an old cotton t-shirt because I learned from a youtube blogger that that's the best way to prevent frizz, and I hope and pray it works because I've been bleaching my hair and it's coming to bite me in the ass now.
I moisturized and opened my closet deciding on what to wear, and after trying on my top 3 choices, I went for a black dress because you can NEVER go wrong with a black dress, and dressed it down a bit with some black boots and a oversized denim jacket that I stole from one of Sydney's ex.
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I like wearing short sleeves because you can see my tattoos, which I love and adore with all my heart.
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I got my keys, checked my phone to see if Sarah sent me the address already which she did, double checked that I had everything I needed in my purse and headed to the door. I got in my car and continued listening to my playlist and laughed as Avril Lavigne started playing and I sang along as I made my way to Sarah's house.
I arrived with 10 minutes to spear and rang the bell. Sarah opened the door and gave me a tight hug which I gladly accepted and hugged her as well. "Holy shit, you look great! Come in" she said, giving me space to walk through the door and into her house. She took my purse and my jacket and handed me a glass of wine which I took and thanked her for. "Where's Sydney?" She asked, seeing that I came by myself.
"She has a test on Monday so she stayed home".
"Oh yeah, you live with your dad right?" She asked, sitting down on the couch and I took a seat next to her.
"No, just Syd. I have my own place, it's not that far from here actually" I explained.
"That means you're hosting the next wine night" she said, making me laugh.
After a little catching up I remembered what my mom told me and ask Sarah,
"So, my mom told me you're some English boy's new drummer" I told her, bringing the wine glass to my lips to take a sip.
She laughed out loud "some 'English boy', oh my god that is amazing. But yes, I actually just came back from touring with him. Ny and Charlotte are also in the band and the guys you'll meet today too" she said.
"Oh, and am I meeting the English boy today as well?" I ask grinning.
"Yes, but I'm not telling you who he is, I want to see you shitting your pants when you meet him".
"Is it Tom Misch? Because if it is I will actually shit myself".
"I guess you'll have to see when he arrives" she laughed and I told her that's no fun.
It was now 9-ish and people started arriving. The first one to arrive is Mitch, who I greeted and hugged as Sarah introduced us. And I swear I could feel a type of vibe going on between them but I decided to push aside and interrogate Sarah about it another time. Then Ny and Charlotte arrived and when they saw me they approached happily to greet me which I appreciated because I was starting to get anxious about meeting all these new people.
"I was telling Sage about how we are the band for this 'English boy' as she called him" Sarah air quoted telling them as they sat on the couch and some chairs around the coffee table.
"English boy? yes, I guess you could say so" Mitch said, laughing.
"Hey! it was my mom who called him that in the first place" I said smiling while pouring Ny a glass of wine.
We continued talking about random topics, I told them a little bit about myself, and they did the same. I stood up and went to the bathroom, and as I was walking out the door I bumped into somebody.
"Omg I'm sorry, I wasn't looki-" I stared up at him and holy shit! It's Harry Styles.
"Don't worry about it. It's fine." he said "I'm the English boy, you must be Sage". He said, stretching out his hand to greet me
"Yes. Nice to meet you English boy." I said, stretching out my hand to shake his, blushing at the fact Sarah already told him but not surprised at all that she did.
"Well, if you excuse me I have to take a wee" he said, laughing and I moved to let him go into the bathroom. I walked to the kitchen and saw Sarah there.
"What the actual fuck Sarah Jones?! English boy is THE Harry Styles?" I said shocked to which she laughed.
"He is. I figured you wouldn't know because I know you, and I can tell you don't follow him like you do to others, but I told you you would shit your pants because I know deep down there, directioner Sage still exists" She said, eating a grape out of the charcuterie board she's preparing.
"Ok first of all, I was NOT a directioner. I liked a couple songs and that's it" I joked, trying to minimize it. "And if I had to choose one I'd go with Zayn" I told her, rolling my eyes jokingly. "But still, wow. I really don't follow him or his solo music really, but this is huge Sarah! I'm so happy for you" I told her, feeling genuinely happy for her.
"Yes, we have a great team. I'm giving you a copy of the album because I know you haven't properly listened to it" She said. Which is true. I only listened to Only Angel once on the radio, and it's actually a great song, it was stuck in my head for like a week. I might give this album a chance and crank it in my apartment.
We headed to the living room and Harry followed behind as soon as he exited the bathroom. He got behind me near my ear and said, "Sarah told me you're not a fan, I gotta say it really hurts my ego but I might push it behind and turn you into a fan".
"Oh, really?" I said, raising an eyebrow and turning to him.
"Well, whether or not you become a fan it's up to you, but I would like to get to know you and you to know me, the actual me I mean" he said, sitting next to me.
"We'll see about that" I told him as I brought the wine glass to my lips. I wondered if this thing actually looked hot like in the movies or if I just looked like an idiot.
We continued talking and laughing as Sarah told stories about our teen years and all the stupid shit we did.
"And that's how Sage broke her arm on a date" she finished the embarrassing ass story which I wished she had forgotten, but how could she... she was the one that came to my rescue when I fell down the window trying to sneak out the boys house when his parents got there. We definitely lived the best teen years together, I really missed her and I'm glad we met again.
Around 2:00 am I decided it was time to head back home,
"Guys it was lovely meeting all of you and I'm sure we'll hang out again soon but I really need to go" I said standing up.
"Oh come on Sage!" Charlotte complained laughing, "it's still pretty early".
"I know but I have an early shift tomorrow so I should get going" I grabbed my jacket and my purse and started to make my way around saying goodbye to everyone, thanking that I only had one glass of wine because I wouldn't be able to drive otherwise.
As I got to Harry he smiled as he hugged me "Maybe I'll come visit you tomorrow at work. Ny says your apple pie is out of this world" he said.
"If I may say so myself, it's pretty fucking awesome" I said laughing.
"Bye Sarah" I said, hugging her and walking to my car.
I arrived, got ready for bed, and stared at the ceiling until I managed to push behind all the dark thoughts and memories that haunt me daily, and finally fell asleep.
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Not Broken (Jaehyun Mafia AU)
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Not Broken Masterlist 
Jaehyun X Reader
Y/N is a burlesque dancer living in Seoul. Jaehyun is one of the most powerful mafia men in Seoul. How will Y/N survive when Jaehyun suspects that she is involved with a rival gang?
Reasons to read this story: Ten's a cross-dressing madam so..... yeah read it ya freaks.
Trigger warning for this chapter: mentions of non-consensual touching. 
Bold means it’s being said in English
A/N: This story will be released in several parts and each part released will have its own trigger warnings. It’s a slow burn story but there will be smut in later parts. Jaehyun won’t actually be introduced in the first two parts, but I hope you’ll read anyway. This story is actually inspired by my year preforming as a burlesque dancer in Seoul. The burlesque group was actually an inclusive group that frequently featured drag kings and queens.
"Kakao!"
I opened my eyes and groaned as I looked at my phone.
8:37pm. I'm late.
"Fuck"
Kakao alert from Jungwoo: "Dude, where are you? The Madam is gonna be here soon. If you're late again, she's not gonna let you preform."
I grabbed at my aching head as I read the message.
Why does it hurt so bad?
I looked over at my nightstand and saw the answer in the form of several empty bottles of soju. I could barely remember anything from the previous night, but from the looks of my bedroom, I seemed to have been by myself. I stood up to grab some water, ignoring the message from Jungwoo. Apparently he must have seen that I read it since my phone soon started vibrating and spewing out kakao talk notifications at an irritatingly fast pace.
After chugging a full bottle of water in an attempt to sooth my throbbing head, I walked to the bathroom to brush my teeth and washed my face. In the mirror I saw that I hadn’t even attempted to wash the eyeliner from the yesterday off before passing out. What was originally a subtle thin black line had now smudged over the entirety of my lid and the concave of my under eyes. I looked trashed, no, dead was a better way to put it.
I roughly rubbed the smudged mess off my face with a washcloth. I didn’t bother applying a new face of makeup since I knew that I'd be expected to put it on at the venue anyway.
I quickly gathered up my make up supplies and shoved them into my backpack. I grabbed the tote bag containing my costume along with my phone and left the trashed one-bedroom apartment, not bothering to change out of the black sweatshirt and torn jeans I woke up in. It wasn't unusual for me to fall asleep or "pass out" in my day clothes.
It wasn't that I didn't have any pajamas to change into, it was more an issue of being too drunk to care. Right now, my reasons for not putting on a new outfit was that I was too hungover not to mention the fact that I was very late.
I walked down the halls of my building, choosing to take the stairs instead of the elevator. Although anyone who stepped foot into my room would believe that I must have lived in the ghetto, my building was actually quite nice. I just happened to be a very messy person and it must show in how I present myself because my neighbors often go out of their ways to avoid me. The only person in the building who I'm actually close with is the doorman.
"Goodmorning Hyuck." I say as I grabbed my headphones out of my bag.
"Hello, Miss Y/LN." He greeted me as he held the door open for an elderly couple as they exited the building.
I chuckled at his formality. As the elderly couple walked out of sight, I turned to the short male.
"How do you do?" I said mockingly to the uniformed doorman.
Donghyuck looked up at me and rolled his eyes.
"You know that I have to keep up appearances when I'm on the clock,” He scowled.
“Hey, do you have a show tonight?" He asked.
"How can you tell?"
"Well you said good morning to me and it's nighttime so... I just assumed that means you're planning on staying up."
I looked at him sheepishly. Donghyuck knew about my nighttime activities, yet he still treated me with the same respect he gave to all the other people living in the building. That didn't mean that he didn't use casual language with me every chance he got. His reasoning being that we've drank together so many times that it shouldn't matter that he's a few years younger than me. I don't mind, in fact, I think it would be weird if he spoke politely to me since I've never been polite to him a day in my life.
My eyes buldged slightly due to the sudden realization that I only had an hour to get from Hongdae to Ittaewon.
"I gotta go. I'll see you later DongFuck!" I yelled as I ran out the door.
"HEY!!!" He screamed back at me.
I ran to Hongik exit 9 and into the sea of people trying to get to where they needed to begin their own nighttime activities. As I stepped onto the subway, I noticed that some people were already drunk. I spotted some drunk ajushi's yelling at this blonde girl asking if she's a Russian prostitute. I roll my eyes and walked over to her.
"Are you okay?"
She looked up at me and nodded. The old men started directing their comments at me instead of her.
It's better that they act this way towards me. They're comments will be justified if they talk about me.
The girl snuck away without giving me another glance and I started to feel relieved until a hand landed on my shoulder. I kept still but my eyes glanced at the screen displaying the stops.
Only 3 more stops. I just have to cope for 3 more stops.
The hand moved toward my chest and I continued to stay still. 
If I move away, they'll just keep doing it to the other girl. 
The hand felt slimy, coated with a thick layer of sweat. It was disgusting. I tried to brush the hand away to prevent it from sliding further south, but my attempts were futile as the man continued to touch me.
It wasn't until the old man caressing me grabbed at my necklace that I turned to face him and pulled my fist back.
🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤
I ran out of the subway gripping on to my broken necklace and bags. When I had punched the stranger he fell back taking my necklace with him, breaking its clasp in the process. The only thought in my mind was to get as far away from the subway exit as possible. It was my fourth year living in Seoul and I knew how things worked. The man could have had his dick out, but there was no way that the police would believe a foreigner like me over him.
After arriving at the venue, I greeted the girls at the door and quickly found the bathroom to collect myself. My hair was sticking out of my ponytail and slicked to my face with sweat. I checked to make sure I still had all my things, most importantly, the necklace.
I looked down at the green emerald pendant. It was about a 3 centimeters long circle wrapped in a gold-plated setting, strung on a matching gold chain. Everything about the necklace was beautiful except for the broken clasp.
"Oh my god Y/N! You are so late."
I jumped at the sudden voice.
"Sorry Snoopy."
It was Jungwoo. I hadn't noticed him come in despite the loud clacking of his heels.
"I guess it's no big deal. To be honest, I'm pretty sure that the Madam hasn't even noticed that you weren't here earlier. She was just going crazy backstage looking for her wig. You should have seen her. It was so funny."
Jungwoo started speaking in a high pitched voice trying to imitate the madam.
"Where's my hair? Where's my hair?"
We both started cracking up at the impersonation.
"Come one!" Jungwoo said as he grabbed my hand, still laughing.
"You're the only one who’s not even close to being done with makeup," He continued.
As he walked me out of the bathroom and towards the dressing rooms, I examined his costume. He wore a long burgundy red velvet dress with long white sleeves. On his head, he adorned a long brunette wig. It seemed to be a very cheap wig as it was already starting to knot into a rat’s nest. Overall, it was a very modest outfit compared to the blue latex mini skirt with neon green tassel pasties he wore during our last show.
"What's your act tonight?" I asked.
"Wonho and I are doing a titanic theme tonight. You would know this if you actually came to our last practice."
Jungwoo was one of the burlesque queens. There were many in the group as they made up almost half of the dancers. Since Ittaewon was filled with foreigners, the queer scene was thriving here and it really showed in our burlesque group.
"What happened to your necklace?"
"Oh I broke it on the subway." I replied hoping Jungwoo wouldn't inquire further.
Luckily for me, he didn't.
"Want me to fix it for you?" He said as he examined the jewelry in my hands.
"It's just a broken clasp right?"
"You would fix it for me?" I asked as I hand the necklace to the feminine male.
"Yeah of course! My costume jewelry breaks all the time. Damn the heavy things. This should only take a few minutes. I'll go get my tools."
Without another word, Jungwoo left, allowing me to get started on my makeup. Tonight I was supposed to be the final act, as per usual, which meant that my costume was the most extravagant. 
For my makeup, I applied gold lipstick along with gold eyeliner, and a glitter highlight. The theme of my act was, you guessed it, gold. Even my costume was brimming with gold detailing. All fake of course, but it was still dripping with elegance. I quickly wrapped my hair into a hairnet and put on my white-blonde wig.
I had been preforming for around two years now. I found the group through a friend who had ended up leaving Korea. I quickly proved myself to be one of the best dancers in the group although some people liked to focus on my lack of attendance even though my acts often recieved the most praise out of every show.
It's not that I thought I was better than my fellow dancers. It's just that I happened to do quite well for myself as a dancer. Through dancing alone, I've been able to pay for my apartment in Hongdae, pay off my student loans, and my other debts, all while being able to afford a few luxuries here and there.
I began to take off my day clothes before I was interrupted when a familiar face entered the dressing room.
The Madam.
"Haven't you ever heard of knocking?" I sneered at the short figure that approached me.
"Haven't you ever heard of coming on time?" The figure snarkily replied, taking a drag from her cigarette.
The Madam, or Madam Ten, as some of us called her, was the leader of the group. She directed the show, organized it, taught choreography, and had final call on every detail of our preformances. 
The thing about The Madam, was that she wasn't exactly a madam. Like Jungwoo, she was a drag queen, but she committed to the role more. None of us had ever actually seen the older out of drag. Some assumed that she may have identified as a woman, since anytime anyone said differently, she would scoff and often would reply with the same two answers.
When it was a woman addressing her as a man, she would say something like,
"Darling. When you refer to me as a he, you are merely pointing out the sad truth that even a man can easily be prettier than you."
When it was a man, she would walk up to the poor soul and say something vulgar, such as "You won't be calling me a he when you are screaming my name later."
Madam Ten was roughly in her 50's yet she was still dripping in womanly charm and beauty. Her face was wrinkled from all the years of smoking cigarettes, but she had more knowledge about seduction than all of us, so her age rarely mattered to the men around her.
She wore her hair in a sort pixie cut. Her red dress draped to the floor. She had an array of colorful scarves wrapped around her neck and shoulders. Heavy jewelry adorned her fingers and neck. Her ruby lips wrapped around the long black straw that was encasing the end of her cigarette.
"On a normal night, I would have given your act to Eunwoo as punishment for your... tardiness."
I raised my eyebrows.
"But...?" I questioned anticipating her to continue her explanation.
"But despite Eunwoo's ability being equal to yours, in my opinion even better..." She continued, snarkily mumbling the last part.
"He's lacking your certain assets, which I believe our special audience members would prefer tonight." She cooed, not even trying to be subtle about staring at my undressed body.
"Special audience members?" I asked as I turned away to find my costume.
"It seems as though our venue has been...reserved for a private party this evening."
"The whole venue?" I gasped.
"Yes. And it seems as though I've had to make some last-minute changes to the show tonight in order to appeal to our audience's specific tastes."
"What kinds of changes?" I inquired, continuing to dress myself.
"Sadly, tonight is going to focus on the more traditionally feminine tonight. It's such a shame that men nowadays are still so afraid to explore their sexualities." She rested her hand on her face as if she were genuinely contemplating something.
I started zipping up my costume before I realized what she was implying.
"Jungwoo's not going to be allowed to perform tonight is he?"
Madam Ten walked up behind me and pulled the zipper of my costume up the remainder of my back.
"We are all expected to make sacrifices sometimes."
This wasn't fair. Jungwoo worked harder than me at everything he did. It wasn't fair that I should get to preform while he's expected to roll over just because some last-minute guests didn’t want to see a drag queen preform burlesque.
 And what about the Madam? Madam Ten would never change the line-up for a show just to appease the preferences of some rich snooty straight assholes. In the past, whenever an audience member complained about the less conventional dancers, it would end with her having the source of the complaint swiftly thrown to the curb. The Madam often referred to these men as lacking taste or ability to appreciate the real artistry of burlesque, but tonight she's acting as if her submission isn't even something to be questioned.
Whoever could afford to rent out the whole venue must have a lot of both money and power to cause the Madam to act this way. Who could these guests be in order for the Madam to choose to compromise the show's integrity?
"I should go talk to Jungwoo." I commented as I turned to leave the room, but Madam Ten stops me, grabbing my hand.
"I already sent him home." She explained reaching into the pocket of her dress.
"But he did leave me this to give to you."
She turned me so that I was facing the full length mirror and wraps my newly fixed necklace around my neck. I was unable to examine the fixed clasp, but it's ability to stay on my neck reassured me of it's functionality.
Madam Ten started walking out of the dressing room, motioning for me to follow. She walked towards the backstage curtains. Once we arrived Madam Ten slung her arms gently around my shoulders and brought her lips closer to my ears.
"Tell me Y/N, are you familiar with NCT 127?"
My eyes bulged upon hearing the name. NCT 127 was one of the most infamous Mafia gangs in Seoul. Specializing in drug trade and weapon imports, NCT 127 was known for it's ties with the police, making it the gang untouchable. Besides that, most people don't know very much about the group. People know that it exists, but most of the group's actions completed with such secrecy that no one outside of the group is completely sure about the how far their reach is. Some have specified that they have so much power in Seoul that even the president had been accused of being in the leader's pocket.
I turned to face the Madam.
"It seems as though they will be making up our audience this evening."
Madam Ten lifted back the curtain ever so slightly revealing the faces within the crowd. Missing, were the familiar faces of our loyal regulars, only to be replaced with more intimidating facades. Tough looking men wearing dashing suits littered the tables and bar areas. Many were sitting down in an organized manor, but even more were standing in small groups, wondering around, probably to get a drink, or worse, to harass the waitresses.
It was in this moment that I felt somewhat relieved that Jungwoo was sent home. I couldn't even imagine how these men would treat a man in drag if this was how they treated the female staff.
Cat calls made up most of the noise in the room, yet it seemed as though they were all coming from a small group of men seated at the main table. 
It was normal for us to seat astonished guests at the table closest to center stage. This way, whoever was deemed important enough to be seated there, could have the best view of the performers. Also, since the stage wasn't elevated, the performers would often walk into the crowd attempting to raise audience participation. Sometimes it would be asking an audience member to help remove an article of clothing. Other times it could be a full-on lap dance, depending on how wild or trustworthy the audience was that particular night. Either way, audience participation was always centered around this table.
Seated at/surrounding the table were five men. They all looked to be in their early or late twenties. Although everyone else in the room seemed intimidating in the conventional "thug" way, these men were intimidating in different way.
"Handsome, aren't they?" Madam Ten cooed almost as if these men were celebrities' whose presence should be appreciated, instead of ruthless mafia members who intimidated their ways into the audience, but I couldn't disagree.
Each of the men varied greatly in image, yet to say that any of them were less that godly would be a obvious lie.
Two men were standing up at their seats trying to control their obviously drunk colleague who kept making passes at the waitresses as they walked by. The drunk one was short but still very handsome with his golden bleached blonde hair and charming laugh. It seemed as though he would have no trouble picking up women if it weren’t for his brazenly drunk behavior.
As a waitress went to check on their table, the blonde man had slapped the poor girl's ass as he spoke to her in English.
"What do you say me and you get out of this overpriced bar and get ourselves a real drink?" He said as he put his hand on her waist and pulled her closer to him. The poor girl let out a small shriek.
I recognized her as one of the new girls on staff. Really innocent and sweet, but she normally did well when dealing with drunk costumers when they got out of line, but this time our customers were irregular compared to what she was used to.
The girl froze.
"Come on baby. Don't you wanna have a little fun? What's wrong?" The blonde asshole continued.
"Mark, Stop making a fool of yourself and it down." A tall brunette grabbed him and plopped the blonde back into his seat as if he weighed nothing. "She probably doesn't even speak English." He continued as he whispers something into the waitress's ear and hands her what appeared to be four 50,000won bills. As she quickly moved away, I put two and two together and figure that he was probably asking her to forget about his friend's indiscretions.
"I wasn't even...hiccup...speaking English Johnny." The blonde drunkenly continued mumbling in English as he tried to get up to follow the girl, only to be set back down again by the third standing party.
This third party stayed silent but nodded at the tall brunette previously referred to as Johnny.
Huh. It seemed like maybe this guy is either the strong silent type or he doesn't speak English. Whereas the other two seemed to be American like me. I noticed how the two spoke English in an accent very similar to my own along with the mentioning of their English names.
"Maybe when you were working with the Dreamies in the Canadian unit, getting drunk and harassing waitresses was acceptable, but now that you're working for the big boss, you have to keep up appearances. Okay Newbie?" Johnny lectured.
I started mentally cursing myself for assuming that the two English speakers were from America, not even considering the option that they could be from Canada, only to have my thoughts interrupted by the Madam.
"They might have used their power to influence the program of tonight's show, but I cannot tolerate any ruckus they make." Madam Ten gestured toward Mark.
Madam Ten started walking towards the doors leading out to the audience, but before leaving, she glanced at me and raised one ring covered index finger towards me, as if queuing me to stay put while she dealt with the unruly audience member. Then without waiting for me to confirm that I understand her silent request, she started to approach the three men, hips swaying ever so seductively.
Even though Madam Ten may have let the Mafia gang intimidate her into going with whatever changes to the show that were demanded by the irregular guests, I was relieved to hear that she still wouldn't tolerate disruptions within the audience.
I lifted the curtain up again and watched as Madam Ten made her way to the bar where the noisy blonde and his silent colleague had wondered off to.
"Hello boys," The Madam greeted the two suited men in a strict yet somehow still flirtatious manner.
Both men raised their eyes to meet the Madam's.
Stressing a smile, she continued. "It seems as though you are making my staff feel uncomfortable."
Madam Ten placed a hand on the lapel of the silent man's jacket hoping to incite a response.
"When young boys don't know how to play nicely, that's when they get placed in time out."
Mark looked up at the hand places on his hyung's chest and scoffed, further proving that the comparison of him to a toddle might not be that far of a stretch.
The third man looked at the madam with kind eyes and smiled. For a split second I was relieved that the situation didn't seem hostile. That was, until the third opened his mouth.
"Well what happens to old bats when they don't know when to fucking shut their traps?"
I couldn’t help but let out a gasp.
The third man had black hair with vibrant blue highlights. Despite the obvious fact that he was a member of the most ruthless gang/mafia in Seoul, he had somehow been born with an extremely innocent looking face. One could even allude his facial features to that of a baby rabbit. Yet he spit out his response like venom proving that one shouldn’t judge a bunny by it's adorable features, but by how hard it bites.
Madam Ten's jaw dropped, her confident facade having been completely shattered. Anger visibly erupted from her foundation covered pores. I watched her as her hand balled up into a fist, but before she could raise it even an inch, Johnny inserted himself in between the madam and his formerly silent colleague.
"Doyoung! How could you say that to such a beautiful young lady?" Although he was speaking to Doyoung, he didn't break eye contact with the Madam for even a second.
"Don't you realize that we are guests in this lovely establishment and should be thankful that we are blessed to have such a beautiful hostess?"
Johnny grabbed the Madam's hand melting away her fist as he planted a kiss on her ring covered fingers.
"Normally, I like to kiss a woman's hand without being obstructed by the presence of rings." Johnny looked up at the Madam while Doyoung rolled his eyes at his colleague's over the top mannerisms.
"Do any of these rings signify that I should address you as Mrs. instead of Miss?" Johnny slightly inquired as he winked at the Madam.
Ugh Barf. There is no way that the Madam is buying this.
An annoyingly long string of giggles escaped from Madam Ten's mouth.
"You can refer to me as Madam Ten, and no, there is no Mr. Ten." She responded as she wrapped Johnny's arm around hers. 
"Instead of playing with such immature young boys, you should accompany me for some drinks in my private room before the show," Madam ten stated shooting a glare toward Mark and Doyoung.
Before Johnny could even respond, the Madam started leading him to her private quarters backstage. Realizing that he may have laid on the charm a little too strong, Johnny glanced towards his colleagues giving them a desperate "Help me out of this" look, only for it to be returned with a smirk from Doyoung and an empty concerned look from Mark.
Once Madam Ten and her new boytoy left my vision, my eyes followed the two  men as they returned to their original table.
Still sitting at the table were two other men. 
Both men were wearing navy blue pin striped suits, and both were sitting silently, but that was about the only thing they had in common visually. One was leaning so far back in his chair it seemed as if sliding down one more inch would end in him slipping onto the floor, yet he seemed perfectly relaxed in his posture as he rested his left foot on top of his left knee. The other man was sitting up so straight that physical therapists could use a picture of him as a guide for perfect posture.
His hair was styled in a side swept undercut. A style that suited the man's angular face. He was handsome, but he didn't have any strange features that stood out. No piercings, no crazy colored hair, no flashy jewelry except for a Gucci watch on his left wrist. Even though the watch was flashy in of itself, it still would have probably been considered to have been one of the plainer Gucci watch designs.
He was dressed like an accountant. The most attractive accountant in the world, but still it was hard to describe how little he stood out. Which is almost sad because when examined, some would probably place him above the rest of his colleagues in terms of visuals.
Upon closer inspection, I was able to make out that the slouching mean's hair was a dark shade of purple that looked almost black under the dark lighting of the room. Two small loop piercings adorned the ear that I could see, and bold purple eye makeup was smudged around both his eyes. Well, at least I thought it was makeup. With how dark the room is before showtime, it's possible that he had two black eyes, but it doesn't seem likely that a man can look so mesmerizingly gorgeous with two black eyes.
Compared to his striped suit seat neighbor, he looked like a rebellious teen. In fact, he looked the most like a gang member out of all of them.
God, I wonder how I didn’t notice him before.
The way they dressed was so professional looking that it would be understandable to forget that these were horrid men that committed violent crimes on the regular.
I looked up at a clock on the wall and realized that it was almost showtime. I started heading back to my dressing room for a drink before the show, but as soon as I passed by the Madam's personal quarters I heard muffled voices. After realizing that nothing too adult was taking place, I couldn't help but press my ear against the door hoping to eavesdrop on the unlikely duo.
"Ummm I..I.. Umm don't you think that we should get back before the show starts?"
The confident flirt that I watched shamelessly flirt with the Madam earlier had dissipated and been replaced by a scared baby deer being hunted by a hungry lion.
"Come one lover boy, this won't take long at all."
Eck! I could almost hear her wink through the door.
My thoughts are interrupted by a sudden voice.
"Isn't it considered rude to eavesdrop?"
I suddenly jumped back and let out a small shriek. I turned towards the voice only to see the purple haired an from earlier leaning on the wall right next to me with his arms crossed,
"Oof," He said as he brought a finger to his ear as if responding to my scream.
"I didn't mean to scare you." He took a step closer towards me before resting an arm on the wall above my head.
"I heard that one of my colleagues needed to be collected from backstage, but that doesn't explain why you are here....Unless....Perhaps you were hoping to hear something besides conversation."
He looked down at me and smirked causing my face to flush. Even in heavy stage makeup I could tell that he noticed the new blush on my cheeks. I just stared at him, terrified, or maybe mesmerized, probably both.
"Okay so I guess you aren't actually as perverted as I originally suspected. It's okay though. I like good girls, but judging from your getup, you must have a bit wild side."
I looked down at the floor and realize that I was wearing my burlesque costume. Even though I have worn much more revealing clothing in front of hundreds of audience members, there was something about this guy that made me feel like I was naked in the most uncomfortable way. His eyes burned holes into my body.
"Yuta, did you find the boss?" The man with the undercut hairstyle from before walked around the corner and stopped when he saw us.
Yuta rolled his eyes before taking his arm off of the wall and turned to face the man.
"Always one to pop up during the most inconvenient times. Right, Taeil?"
Taeil looked at me with visible concern showing on his face.
"Leave the poor girl alone. I swear to god, sometimes you're worse than Mark."
Suddenly, a high-pitched scream arose from behind the door and Taeil hurriedly opened it while Yuta merely let out a bored yawn.
My body stressed with worry for the Madam.
This Johnny bastard could have just left the room if he didn't want to do anything with the Madam. He didn’t have to hurt her.
I looked inside the room expecting a bloodied Madam only to be struck with the sudden realization....Ten wasn't the one who screamed.
Johnny was lying on the bed, face covered with heavy lipstick marks, and the Madam on top of him.
You could tell that Johnny was not having as much fun as the Madam was, but she was as oblivious as always.
Having noticed his colleagues had come to his rescue, Johnny sat up. The Madam lifted herself up off of the bed and in turn, off Johnny.
"Johnny... Umm" Taeil stuttered.
Yuta entered the room and tossed a handkerchief to the lipstick covered man.
"Clean yourself off. The boss will be here any minute." Yuta stated calmly. The smirk on his face even more prominent than before.
There are more of them?
"What a shame it is to have such a..." Ten looked at us, "unfortunate interruption," she continued.
"Don't worry Madam. We'll bring him back to you after the show," Yuta winked and Johnny, who was wiping his face freezes in fear, making me feel almost sorry for him. 
Sadly, due to the power dynamics in gender roles, Madam Ten's lack of consent was being played off as a joke by his friend, instead of an actual close call for a possibly traumatic event. A kind of event I almost went through myself.
"I should probably go to greet the young man." The madam fixed her wig. 
"I should at least see the man responsible for tonight's sudden change in theme."
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Note
Ok b so like, I'm gonna try to make this sort of specific, I live for some angst and I live for Abba so like.... Imagine Abba being in one of those days where he just feels like garbage , but then his nice softie s/o visits him and cheers him up and gives him luv bc uwuwuwu. im so awkward at writing this, anyways, it's a scenario if thats ok with u b, and the s/o is a female.
AAAAH B I tried my best to make this turn out decent!! I feel like Leo is extremely OOC and there might be some mistakes here and there, but it’s late and I’m tired...so I’ll fix this in the morning! ;;
I hope you enjoy it anyway, ilysm❤
Il loro segreto
Leone Abbacchio x Fem!Reader❤
Everyone has bad days, and everyone faces them in a different way. There are people like Bruno: he would try his best to help other people overcome their struggles, and seeing their smiling face would make him feel better in an instant. There are people like Fugo: he would allow himself to have a day off, and he’d spend that day doing his favourite things, talking to his favourite people, or even staying alone. And then there are people like Abbacchio.
Leone was a man of few words, he would talk when necessary, and he wasn’t the nicest member of the gang. His face appeared to be in an eternal scowl, with his dark, thin eyebrows furrowed and his lips rarely lifting upwards. One would think that he was a strong, confident man whose only emotions were anger and disgust, but there’s always more to a person than what they let the others see.
Abbacchio was like any other person: some of his days were happy, other ones boring, and other ones bad, upsetting days. On the latter he would isolate himself and even refuse to get out of his bed, too mentally exhausted to interact with other people. He would push them away, and then he’d feel guilty about it. His lips would quiver and his eyes would water, but he’d hold it in.
And that day was one of those days.
(Name) exhaled, her eyes fixed on the last message he had sent: “See you at 9” with a black heart at the end. ‘Edgy’ she thought with a chuckle, but the small smile on her face disappeared as soon as it came. They had agreed on meeting quite early in the morning and, when she noticed that it was pouring outside but his last access remained the same as the previous night’s, she had guessed that the rain wouldn’t have been a problem for him either.
But after an hour of waiting for his arrival in front of the smallest, saddest bookstore in town, she came to a sudden realization: what if something was wrong?
Was he okay? Was the rest of the gang okay? Was her phone being dumb and not showing her his true last messages? She needed to know. She was about to stand up and open her umbrella when she noticed a notification from a different chat: Bruno had just texted her.
‘Would you mind coming over? I know this is sudden, but there’s somebody here who needs you.’ The text read, and her expression twisted into one of concern. It wasn’t the first time that she received a text like that, from either the Capo –whom she considered one of her closest friends- or another one of the guys, and it was not a pleasant thing to read.
She didn’t even bother to reply, instead she started walking towards the Passione residence, which was not that far away from that spot. The rain didn’t stop, making her almost trip at least twice along the way, but she was determined to see her lover’s face and hold him as close as possible.
It didn’t take that long before three knocks on the door snapped Bruno out of his trance; he stood up and made his way to the front door, abandoning the crossword puzzled he had been trying to complete for the past forty minutes on the wooden table.
He slowly opened the door to reveal his friend, umbrella in her right hand and phone in the other, her eyebrows slightly furrowed but a polite smile still present on her face. He motioned to come in and guided her to the couch, where they both sat down;
“So, what happened?” she asked, fidgeting with her hands. He let out a sigh,
“I...will keep it short. You know how Leone can get and now I know he needs extra support that I can’t give him. But please remember, cara; if this is too much for you, if he somehow hurts you with his words or actions...” he paused, cautiously choosing what to say next, “It’s not worth it. He is my friend, but you are too and I wouldn’t want you to think that I agree with everything he says or does.”
She carefully listened, her expression concentrated. She warmly smiled as he finished talking and took his larger hands in hers, grateful for having such a caring and honest friend.
“Bruno, I will follow your advice if anything happens. But I’m pretty sure it won��t,” she reassured him, and he nodded and returned the smile, “Now, he hasn’t left his room has he?”
“He’s been in there since yesterday night. He’d making all of us very worried, (Name).” He confessed, his tone of voice sincere. The girl could only nod and direct her gaze on the flight of stairs leading up to the second floor, where the bedrooms were located.
 Unmade bed, window shut, blankets and dirty clothes lazily piled up in a corner of the barely lit room. The smell not bad enough to be unbearable, but enough to make one’s nose wrinkle. The pitter patter of the rain soothed him, but unnerved him at the same time. Was it even possible to feel in such a way?
He sat there, intently staring at the blank, boring wall as if it was the most interesting thing. What else could he have done in his state after all? With his headphones too far away to reach and the overwhelming fatigue that didn’t seem willing to leave him anytime soon, he could only lose heart and sit there, with his back against the bed’s headboard.
His almost lifeless gaze fell upon his phone, which had been resting on his nightstand since the previous night. A feeling of guilt struck him at the thought that he hadn’t shown up for his and (Name)’s date, his chest tightening and a lump forming in his throat. No, he couldn’t cry. What was the point of crying anyway? His eyes alarmingly watered, salty tears threatening to roll down his pale cheeks; he tried to focus on breathing, when a soft, almost inaudible knock made his grip on the thin blanket covering his legs tighten and his eyebrows furrow.
No. He thought, his heart beating faster. Fuck, leave.
Silence. But then, another knock, this time a little bit louder. Who was it, and what did they want? He had harshly declined Bruno’s help earlier that morning, and made it clear that he didn’t want any of the other guys around. Watching Bruno retrieve his hand at his commanding voice made him regret his actions, but then again. What was he expecting from himself?
With his gaze fixed on the door, he flinched when he heard the voice of the person behind it.
“Leo?”
I don’t deserve you. He thought once again, his eyes burning. He suddenly became aware of the state he was in, with his normally silky hair now messy and tangled, tied in a low ponytail, no sign of makeup on his ghost white face, and his embarrassing attire composed by an old, short sleeved shirt –obviously too large for him- and a pair of grey night shorts, his legs exposed and, much to his regret, hairy.
“Leone, I just want to know if you’re okay-“
“I am, now leave.” Please, he wanted to add, before I say something I’ll regret.
He could feel her sighing, trying to come up with something to tell him that could’ve comforted him. But what exactly could’ve possibly made him happier? He had tried to think of something, to do something, but it only ended up hurting him more, making him lay back down, exhausted and ashamed of himself. Just the thought of it made him stomach turn, the thought of his beloved waiting for him under the pouring rain whilst he was laying in bed, frustrated... melancholic.
“Please tell me if there’s something I can do to make you feel better. I know you’re lying, but it’s okay,” a pause. Then shuffling, and the doorknob moved a little, “Can I come in, Tesoro?” she asked. Little did she know that the man was trying his hardest not to break down there, in that exact moment. Or did she? She’d never seen him or talked to him while he was in such a state, usually he would be angry and frustrated, drinking his pain away in the kitchen in the middle of the night, or even in a bar.
Silence means consent, she thought –as much as that sentence could’ve been wrong-, and she dared to open the door, moderately illuminating the chaotic room. He froze, not really sure what to do, if to yell at them or to gather all his strength to stand up and lock the door completely. But he simply stayed still, his chest rising and falling with every shaky breath he took.
“What are you doing here,” he asked, his words ended up sounding more like a statement, though. She slowly stepped inside, her gaze falling upon her handsome boyfriend’s body, partially covered by a thin, cream coloured blanket.
“I’m here to listen to you, what’s going on Leone?” she asked, slowly stepping closer to his bed. He eyed her for a moment, his eyes softening. He wanted to be mad and make her leave, he really did, she wasn’t supposed to see him like this and he deserved to suffer alone. He deserved to listen to all the horrible thoughts that his mind was full of, obsess over them.
He gasped at the light touch of her hand, which was now softly holding his, his long, bony fingers subconsciously intertwining with hers. That simple touch sent a wave of butterflies through his veins, making him shake and choke back a sob.
(Name) promptly took notice of this and sat down beside him, her eyes kind and a warm, welcoming smile on her face.
“You can cry, it’s okay to. Please look at me,” and he did, with tears finally spilling down his face, his cheeks flushed and the muscles of his chin trembling, making his lips quiver. His right hand clutched at hers as if his life depended on it, while his left was clenched in a fist, the knuckles slowly going white. (Name) worriedly moved closer to him, letting her free hand wander behind his head to untie his hair and run her fingers through it.
Tell me everything.
“I am... I don’t know. Fuck, I don’t deserve you-“ a stifled sob, and then he sharply inhaled, “You were waiting for me, but I was here. Being a useless dick even if they wanted to help. I just...” he suddenly stopped, allowing smaller sobs to escape from his parted, soft lips. The girl moved her hand from his hair to his back, pulling him closer so that his head could rest on her shoulder.
Slightly embarrassed by this position as she was the one usually laying her head on his shoulder, he tried to pull away, but her soothing touch and whispers sent a shiver up his spine and made him hold onto her for dear life, weeping and babbling about how he didn’t deserve her, about how he would miss her though if she left, and she thought she heard him say I’m sorry once or twice –and he’d rarely apologize-.
(Name) held him tight, noticing how quiet he was even while shaking and sobbing almost uncontrollably, wetting her cute, slightly elegant shirt. Not that she cared anyway, he was much more important than a stupid shirt.  
“Leo,” she whispered at some point, making him blink, more tears rolling down his reddened cheeks, “You deserve so much and you don’t even realize it. I know you blame yourself for a lot of things...” he raised his head, his hair gracefully cascading down his back; their eyes met and (Name) gave him a small smile, which he returned, “But not everything’s your fault.”
He averted his gaze, his breath slowly calming and his shoulders relaxing.
“Hm. Just promise... this whole thing will stay between us,”
She chuckled, and shifted in a more comfortable position so that they could be even closer.
“Of course; now will you eat breakfast with me?”
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Pretty (Soulmate!AU)
Part 1 bc tumblr’s a bitch
A/N: This is the long one I was talking about sorry it’s shit though
Word Count (for the whole thing): 2154 (ooh boy)
Genre: Fluff
Warnings: Swearing
Soulmates. Everyone knew they were your other half, your perfect counterpart. Everyone was born with a soulmark on their wrist dictating the first thing their soulmate would say to them. Yours was I can’t just talk to a pretty girl like that! Which was kinda sweet, you’d once thought. But then you’d realized your soulmate was probably going to be talking about some other girl. So after that, you kind of gave up on finding your soulmate. You just lived normally and didn’t let it bother you. Well, you tried to not let it bother you.
It was late Thursday evening, and you were working your last shift at the local Wendy’s. The place was pretty empty except for a couple of guys in a booth talking to each other. They were both making exaggerated gestures and seemed to be having a pretty heated argument. Finally one of them got up.
“I can’t just talk to a pretty girl like that!” the shorter one of the two muttered, walking past you to put his empty cup in the trash. You barely even registered what he had said. He was... actually super fucking cute, which was just great. There were no other girls here, so you realized he must be talking about you.
“Actually, I wouldn’t mind if you talked to me,” you called out. Oh shit, did I just say that, he’s going to think I’m weird. Why did I do that?
He stopped in his tracks and turned around.
Oh God he thinks I’m a freak.
But he just stood there in shock.
And then it hit you. What he’d said. Oh God I’m an idiot.
His friend was smiling and giving him two giant thumbs up from their table. He rolled down his sleeve in silent disbelief, revealing the words:
Actually, I wouldn’t mind if you talked to me
You rolled down your own sleeve to show the words that had come out of his mouth just seconds earlier:
I can’t just talk to a pretty girl like that!
You both stood there awkwardly for a few seconds.
“I, uh, I’m Jeremy,” he stammered, shoving his glasses back up his nose.
“Y/N.”
“Well, uh it’s nice to meet you, Y/N.” He glanced over to his friend, who was miming writing something down. He nodded and, quickly grabbing a pen out of his pocket and scribbling something down, turned back to you.
“Here’s my number, if you wanna, like, talk or something,” he mumbled as he handed the paper to you, suddenly nervous all over again.
You smiled. “Yeah, I think I will.”
Jeremy and his friend left and you kept grinning. You’d finally found your soulmate!
Once your shift was done, you texted your best friend Zoe:
met cute guy @ work!
and he’s my soulmate!
AND i got his number!
Oh my God Y/N that’s amazing!
Wish I could meet my soulmate
don’t be so sad, zo! you’ll find your soulmate!
...i sound like the sappiest person alive
No you don’t, I just wish I could meet my soulmate sooner
you’ll find them!! now go to sleep, it’s like 10
Yes ma’am
You went to bed, though you wondered when you would see Jeremy again.
He came back a few days later, but this time his glasses were gone and he was wearing an Eminem t-shirt. He seemed to carry a new cocky swagger in his step, and you weren’t sure what to think of it.
“Eminem? Are people still into him?” you asked. You laughed at your own criticality, not waiting for him to respond. “I wouldn’t know anyway, my taste in music isn’t exactly.. mainstream.”
“Like, indie music and stuff?” He was still clueless as ever.
“More like musicals.” You immediately cringed, expecting him to laugh at you.
Instead, he just nodded. “Cool.”
“You lost the glasses,” you said, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear.
“Yeah, they, uh—“ Jeremy stopped mid sentence, a look of intense pain on his face. “Are you okay?” you asked worriedly.
“Fine,” he choked out, “I’m perfectly fine.”
You frowned. He didn’t look fine. But he obviously didn’t want to talk about it.
“I don’t have any contacts, and I’m really nearsighted, so that’s a fun thing,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm.
You laughed lightly. “Cool, what can I get you?”
“Actually, I’m not getting anything. Just wanted to say hi.”
“Oh. Okay,” you said, bobbing your head up and down. And with that, he left, leaving you confused and bewildered.
One day he came with a pretty girl who you assumed was his girlfriend. You felt a pang of jealousy as you tapped at the register.
Every time he stuttered or went to scratch his neck, he immediately sat bolt upright as if he had been shocked. The girl noticed too, and had to leave halfway through the date, something about not wanting to miss play rehearsal. Jeremy slumped back in his seat, disappointed.
You couldn’t help but wonder if somehow he’d forgotten about you. You were his soulmate, after all. You’d always assumed that when you met your soulmate, you would immediately click and be inseparable, two halves of a whole. That you would always have him close by. But he was right here, and somehow he felt farther away than ever.
He didn’t come in for a few weeks after that, and you were beginning to get worried. You quickly typed up a text on your way driving home from work.
hey are you okay
The response came a few minutes later.
Yeah, I should be out of the hospital any day now
The hospital? Fuck, had something happened? Your mind raced with possibilities, each worse than the last. You typed another message, hoping to ease your anxiety.
jeremy?
why are you in the hospital?
It’s a long story but basically there were these like tic tacs that help you to be cool and they’re from Japan and mine kind of tried to take over all of human civilization so yeah
You frowned. What the actual, genuine fuck?
jeremy what the fuck
Obviously some really weird shit was going down. You swerved your car around in a Uturn to get to the hospital. You kept your eyes trained on the road, while a notification lit up your phone screen out of the corner of your eye.
I told you it was a long story!
Stopping at a red light, you quickly typed a reply.
yeah no shit
jesus christ
at least you’re okay
How did you know I was MIA anyway?
you haven’t shown up at wendy’s for four weeks
Honestly I just went there to see you the food is kinda shitty
You pulled up to the ER parking lot.
yeah lmao
but seriously
why didn’t you just ask me out once we figured out we were soulmates?
You didn’t wait for a response, already getting out of your car and slamming the door shut. Your phone lit up again with the notifications.
I was scared, I guess
I mean, it’s just you are literally the person the universe destined me for, no pressure or anything
I just didn’t want to try and then screw this up
You responded as you walked into the ER waiting room.
no i get it
it’s kinda intense
but since we’re kinda destined for each other and all
wanna go to lunch on sunday?
I don’t even know if I’ll be out of here by then
“I’m looking for Jeremy Heere?” you asked the receptionist. She nodded, finished her phone call, and typed something up.
“What is your relation to him?” she asked, her attention flickering back to you.
“Significant other,” you said, even though you’d never actually been on a date. But you were his soulmate, and that must have counted for something, right?
“He’s in Room 102, dear,” she smiled.
“Great, thanks,” you almost shouted, already running to his room. You burst through the door and found Jeremy.
He looked so fragile attached to all the tubes and wires. There were dark bags under his eyes, and his glasses were back.
“Oh my god are you okay?” You asked, taking a tentative step towards him.
He cracked a brief smile. “Oh, no, definitely not,” he quipped.
“So,” you said, perching on the edge of the bed, “what the everloving fuck is a Squip?”
He spent the next half hour explaining the whole situation. The Halloween party, the Squip, the play. All of it. When he finally finished you whispered, “Holy shit.”
“Yeah. I understand if you wanna, like, never talk to me again or something,” he mumbled.
“Why would I do that?”
“Why wouldn’t you? I literally almost doomed the entire human race. You deserve a better soulmate.”
“No, I don’t. You’re amazing. You’re smart and funny and really cute. Besides, I don’t think there are refunds on soulmates. Maybe we could catch a movie?”
He smiled a little. “Yeah. I’ll text you as soon as I get out.”
“I’ll see you then,” you said, leaving the room.
Three days later you got a text from Jeremy.
I’m out of the hospital
finally!
So, um
I was thinking we could see a movie tonight?
sounds good!
your choice!
pick me up @ 9
You don’t have to if you don’t want to
Oh lol
You sat on your couch, tapping your foot as you watched the clock. Eight fifty-seven, eight fifty-eight, eight fifty-nine, nine.
You glanced at the door. He was almost here, hopefully, definitely not standing you up...
The doorbell rang, and you sprang up and ran to it in a flash of nervous energy. You opened the door, grinning, to find Jeremy standing there looking about as nervous as you felt.
“Is it gonna be weird if my dad drives us?” he asked gesturing to the unfamiliar car in the driveway.
“It’s fine.”
He relaxed. “Okay, cool, good.”
You two were a bit squished together in the backseat, and Jeremy’s dad made some remark about how happy he was his son found his soulmate. The ride was overall a bit awkward, but you chatted with Jeremy. Turned out you went to the same school—what were the odds?
Mr. Heere pulled up to the theatre. “Welp, this is where I leave you kiddos. Have fun!” he called as you stepped out. You couldn’t wait to see what movie Jeremy had picked.
When you looked at the tickets you found, surprisingly enough, it was a romcom. You teased him about it a bit. He just shrugged and said, “I always like a good love story.”
“Okay, dude,” you laughed, buttering the popcorn.
At one point during the movie, you laughed exceptionally loudly at a pun that was so bad it was fucking hilarious. Jeremy couldn’t really pay attention to the movie, though. He was more focused on your bright smile and beautiful laugh. You swore it was the ugliest laugh ever, but to him, it was angelic, like tinkling bells. You noticed him looking at you.
“What?” you asked, a bit defensive.
“Um, can, can I kiss you?” he asked anxiously, sure you’d say no.
“Yeah,” was all you could think to say.
And he kissed you, and honestly you had no clue what you were doing, you just knew this was right, somehow. You pulled back eventually, your face bright red. Jeremy noticed and went almost as red as you.
“I’m sorry, was that bad? I don’t really—“ he started to ramble, only to be cut off by you.
“No, it’s just, I’ve never, y’know, done that before,” you admitted.
“Seriously? How?”
“This might shock you, but being who I am, I don’t exactly have a line of guys falling at my feet. Let’s just—watch the movie, okay?”
He nodded. “Okay.”
“No Fault In Our Stars references.”
“That’s fair.”
Soon enough the credits rolled around. You couldn’t quite remember when, but at some point, engrossed in the movie, you had slipped your hand into Jeremy’s. Neither of you had let go yet.
“Now that I know you like chick flicks, does this mean you wanna watch The Notebook next time?” you joked as you two walked out of the theatre, your hands still intertwined.
He made a face. “Definitely not.”
You giggled. “Okay, okay,” you said, throwing your free hand up in mock defeat.
“My dad’s gonna drive us back, too.”
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neo-culture-mafia · 5 years
Text
Crush Culture (K.DY)
You were single...that was it.
The sight of seeing other couples made you want to punch them. You were 20 and still have never had your first kiss. You were okay with that too. You were afriad of becoming apart of that gross couple no one could stand.
Yet, it was annoying when everyone had a significant other besides you...even the Junior Forces had someone. You were forever alone.
Your attitude was always the reason someone couldn't hold onto you. You were a hand full and that was an understatement half of the time. You were a bratty girl that wanted love -- but no one wanted you.
You sat at your circle table during the Valentine Day Holiday Party that Taeyong threw everywhere...well...his girlfriend threw. She throws it every year to have an excuse to dress up in a tight red dress and talk with the rest of the girlfriends that were also associated with the Mafia. You were always seen as 'one of the guys' compared to the other girls. You were the only female genuinely recruited and not just fucking their way in. Whenever the girls would go shopping, one of the boys would try to convince their girlfriends to take you along -- trying to get you to make friends.
You've tried making friends with them but they're just too snobby and judgemental. Then at the end of the day, you're back at the boys' lounge sitting in the corner with a lonely bottle of Soju.
You hit the volume button on your phone again as you're met with the time: 11:32 and a new notification. You quickly unlocked your phone and checked it. 'Timer: Your timer for 5 minutes has run out.'
You groaned and locked your phone. You put it on the table with annoyance and just looked into the dancing crowd. You play with your sleeve as you grimaced at it's color. It was red. You hated red. But to make the boss' wife happy; you followed the dress code knowing you found a loophole and how it would piss her off.
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It reminded you of anger...and how you didn't want to be here while the color is plastered over every square inch of this damn room.
"Yah." You looked up to see your hero of the night: Doyoung.
"What do you want old man?" You rolled your eyes and he scoffed. "Fine sit alone then." He said and you snapped towards him. "I was joking." You quickly blurt out and he chuckled as he turned back and sat in the chair next to you. The red silk table cloth moving as his legs brush against it.
"Why aren't you dancing?" He asked and you shrugged. "Why aren't you?" You asked but you already knew the answer.
Like you, he was a handful to have as a partner. He hasn't secured a woman yet which was looked down upon by some. Most didn't care, like the boys...but the girls wanted someone new every once and awhile to brainwash and make their own.
Doyoung was adorned in a leather jacket and dark jeans. He found a loophole in the dress code too; his dark t-shirt having a red logo on it. It pissed Tae's girl off but he couldn't stand her either.
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"Just don't want to. Not my thing ya know." He shrugged and downed all of his red wine. "God this is terrible." He groaned as he looked at the empty glass. You chuckled at his face as he set it down with a clunk of the cold glass.
You both sat there in comfortable silence and just chilled with each other. "Hey losers. Why aren't you dancing?" Kun came over as his wife scurried off to the hoard of girls in the middle of the dance floor.
"Aside from the fact I don't want to be here in the first place...? I just don't want to." You said and he chuckled. "Here's a wacky idea. Both of you dance with each other." He said taking your glass of wine away from you. You whined and held your hand out for it back.
Kun grabbed your hand and placed it on Doyoung's. "You won't get paid if you say no." Kun said and Doyoung just groaned.
"Paid?" You questioned. "The guys are paying me 20 dollars just to show up." Doyoung said and Kun nodded at the statement.
"What?!" You shrieked. "Yeah I know it ridiculous righ-" "I wanna be paid too!" You cut off Kun as Doyoung laughed. Kun gave up on you two and walked away. "I'm surrounded by children." He shook his head.
"We're the same age dumbass." Doyoung called back and Kun just held up his special finger as a response. You chuckled at the response. You felt pressure on your hand as you saw Doyoung's hand wrap around yours.
"We're here...why not make it special?" He asked and stood up. You shook your head no as you tried retracting your hand. "I don't dance." You shook your head again.
"And you think I do?" He cocked an eyebrow. You looked at him and just sighed. "Fine." You said as you let him pull you out of your seat. He guided you amongst the bodies of slow dancing and couples kissing.
He brought you to the middle of the floor above the huge dangling heart that was set to burst with confetti at midnight. He turned you around and put his hands on your waist hesitantly. He was a good height taller so your forehead just met his lips. So in order to maintain eye contact you had to look up at him.
You were lost for a moment until you put your arms gently on his shoulder. Some random slow love song played through the huge speakers. You both talked about some upcoming missions before you were interrupted. "Yeah I get it. What we do for work is very interesting -- yet I don't want to overhear how you decapitated a guy while I'm kissing my girlfriend at a Valentine's day dance." Jaehyun butted in with swollen lips and a trail of red pigment from his jaw to his collar.
You laughed at his physical state, your head burying into Doyoung's chest out of instinct to hide your face. His hand subconsciously went up your back a little.
"Dude. Go get a room if you're that desperate." Doyoung chuckled. "Why don't you go-" you cut off the younger before he said something he would regret.
"Alright enough. We'll shut up about work." You said and Jaehyun rolled his eyes. "Thank you." He said and walked the couple steps back over to his girlfriend.
You looked up again to already be met with his longing gaze. His eyes getting bigger then readjusting to your bright eyes he was waiting to see...yet he would never tell you that.
"So...how was your day?" You asked trying to appeal to Jaehyun's wishes on choice of conversation. "It was good. Yours?" He asked you; as he genuinely wanted to know the answer.
"It was...boring." You chuckled at the thought of you staying in bed all day until being reminded of the dance.
"Oh well I hope it looks up soon." Doyoung said and twirled you. You giggled at the unexpected dance move. "Where'd you learn to do that?" You asked once his hands were back on your back and holding you close. "Takes two to tango honey." He winked and you felt the heat rush to your cheeks.
"Guess you're right." You nodded and played with a few hairs on the nape of his neck.
"Yeah?" He asked and you nodded shortly again. You two were getting closer. You hadn't noticed how his big eyes were and how they twinkled even in the dimmest of lights, or how natural his hands felt on your back -- bringing you two closer as your bodies pushed against another's.
"Yeah." You breathed. He was so close and you didn't know you had wanted this so much until it was right here infront of you. "Yeah." He whispered and brought you closer up to his face. Your lips were grazing each others. It was like sparks of electricity.
Claps became apparent as you both realised what was happening. You both pushed each other away and just straightened your clothes out as the confetti fell in huge clumps around everyone's feet. Some kissed their partner as they continued dancing to the music. You ran a hand through your hair as did Doyoung. Both of you clearing of your throats and looking around to make sure no one else saw what was about to happen. Yet they did and the group of people in the corner of the room groaned as half of them lost money on the fact you two didn't kiss.
"Well...see you tomorrow." You both turned to each other at the same time. "Yeah totally." You both continued to copy each other. "Goodbye." You waved and bowed slightly as you walked past him and out the doors to get to your car.
You walked to the curb where rain still drizzled lightly. You noticed you had a bounce in your step as you walked with purpose. The heat in your chest and cheeks hadn't stopped as you got in your car.
..
You drove down the highway back to your apartment as you blasted the most cheesiest love songs you could think of.
You arrived at your home and ran up the stairs to your bedroom. You turned on all your lights and your music. You hopped and danced on your bed for the rest of the night...Doyoung doing the same at his own home.
You were on cloud 9 and nothing even happened. Even though you were happy you didn't know that Doyoung was happier. He had been waiting MONTHS to make a move. He's just so happy he didn't have to force it.
Maybe the crush culture was disgusting and overrated. Maybe it did make you want to become violent and light every heart shaped thing on fire. Yet, with you finding your own interest...you were wanting to become apart of the same group you despised.
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This was for Doyoung and his birthday💗💗
It wasn't my best work but I felt bad about not posting on his birthday. I needed more time to finish it and finally finished today.
With Love,
~J
283 notes · View notes
titsoutforkapanen · 5 years
Text
I do love you Pt 9
So so so so sorry for the delay. I have had so much going on lately. Hopefully you guys like this chapter! Thank you all for the love and patience.
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Ema had offered to take Parker for the night so Auston and I could go out and celebrate our engagement. I had said we would love to just say home with Parker but Auston had apparently already made plans.
“Babe, you almost ready?” He asked walking into our bathroom pulling on a shirt. I looked over to observe his outfit. He was wearing his usual black ripped jeans and a black long sleeved shirt.
“You look hot” he muttered, walking up behind me kissing my neck. His hands were resting on my waist. “You almost ready? We have to leave soon” He kissed my neck once more before walking out of the bathroom. I looked in the mirror and fixed my curls before walking out and grabbing my heels.
“I’m ready” I said walking down the hall and into the living room. Auston and Ema were standing in the kitchen and Brian was laying on the couch with Parker on his chest. I slipped into my heels and grabbed my purse. I looked back over to Parker and Brian on the couch and felt my heart swell. I was so happy Parker would have a good relationship with his grandparents.
“Well, you two can head out I think we’ll be okay” Ema said hugging Auston. “Have fun, I’m so happy for you two” she smiled. Auston and I walked down to the parking garage. When we got into his car I couldn’t take my eyes off of my ring. I was so happy with where I was right now. It was almost like I wasn’t going to have to fight for my son soon.
“What you thinking about, babe?”
“Just about how happy I am. How content I am with our family” I smiled.
We pulled up to the club and it looked like it was already pretty busy. I opened the door, and got out to almost me knocked off my feet by the flashes of paparazzi. Auston rushed over to my side to lead me through the crowd. As soon as we walked into the building I heard yelling over the music.
“MY BEST FRIENDS ARE GETTING MARRIED!” I looked ahead of me to see Mitch standing about 20 feet ahead of us lifting a bottle of champagne into the air. I laughed at him as Auston and I walked over to where Mitch and a few of his other teammates and their girlfriends were sitting. I looked around to see Morgan, Zach, Freddie, Tyler, Travis, Connor and Naz. I was whisked away by the girls and we started taking shots. I looked over to see Auston’s eyes on me. I sent him a smile, as Steph gave me another shot.
INSTAGRAM
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Marner_93: Gotta make a congrats’ post for my best friends. THEIR GETTIN MARRIED YALL. I guess @Hazy_Dawn is stuck with me forever.
A few drinks and many songs later I was sitting on a couch with Auston’s arms wrapped around me. I was watching Mitch and Connor take a shot when Steph ran over and pulled me and Auston up from our sitting position.
“We’re doing body shots!” she yelled as she pulled us towards a table where Mitch was waiting. It was like Mitch’s excitement was rubbing off on me. Steph and I took off our tops so we were just in our jeans and bras. We laid on the table as Mo poured the salt and alcohol he grabbed the slice of lime and handed it to us to put in between our lips. There was a countdown and then Auston and Mitch went for it. I felt Auston lick the salt and soon his lips were on mine taking the lime from my lips. Steph and I looked over at each other before giggling.
“Come, on babygirl” Auston said as he pulled me up and handed me my shirt. I was starting to get tired when Mitch ran up to me.
“Let’s go get food”
“Mitch, what time is it?” I asked rolling my eyes.
“A little after midnight, and I’m hungry” he whined. I looked around to see that some of the guys had left. The only ones that were left was Morgan, Mitch, Auston, Steph and I. Somehow we all made it outside the club and were standing on the sidewalk.
“Let’s go get food” Mitch muttered looking between us all.
“I’m heading out y’all have fun” Morgan said walking away, to an uber or taxi I’m assuming. A SUV pulled up before Mitch checked to make sure it was ours. Mitch had found some 24 hour diner we were went to. We ordered and ate some breakfast before going our separate ways.
“Mom and dad took Parker to their hotel room” Auston muttered laying his head on my shoulder. The uber driver sent me a smile in the rearview mirror before looking back at the road.
“We left your car at the club” I sighed resting my head on his.
“I’ll go get it tomorrow” He said closing his eyes.
When we made it into the apartment I threw my heels and purse to the side before walking up to our bedroom. When I made it to the bedroom I could hear Auston in the bathroom. I walked in and grabbed a makeup wipe and started taking off my makeup. Auston walked over to me putting his hands on my hips.
“I totally wanted to see you only in that ring tonight, but I’m exhausted” I laughed at him before looking up at him smiling.
“That’s perfectly fine, lets go to bed” I threw the wipe in the trash and headed into the bedroom. I took off my outfit and threw on one of Auston’s old t-shirts and a pair of pajama shorts and I crawled into bed beside Auston. He pulled me close but it wasn’t very long till I heard his breathing slow and he was asleep.   
I woke up the next morning to someone banging on the door. I was confused on what someone would need. I shook Auston awake and started for the door. The banging continued. “Jesus I’m coming” I muttered finally making it to the door. I opened it to see a man standing in a suit.
“Are you Hazy?” the man asked looking down at me.
“Uh yeah, why?” I was confused on why there was a man at my door ar 8 am.
“You’ve been served” He handed me an envelope addressed to me and Auston. The man walked away before I could ask what it was for. I closed the door and walked to the counter. “Auston! Babe! You need to come here” I yelled for him He walked into the kitchen before walking over to me.
“What’s that?” He asked looking at the envelope.
“I don’t know. Some guy came to the door telling me I had been served” I muttered ripping open the envelope. I wasn’t even a whole sentence into the paper when I felt my heart drop.
Hazy Dawn and Auston Matthews,
Kasperi Kapanen has filed for custody of your shared child
PARKER MITCHELL MATTHEWS
This is your official request to the court hearing on
SEPTEMBER 30
You are welcome to bring your attorney and please have any proof that you are the superior parent ready by the date stated above.
Judge Baker
I knew there was tears falling from my eyes. I couldn’t believe that he was doing this. Auston took the paper out of my hands reading it for himself.
I slid down the fridge sitting on the floor. I pulled out my phone calling the one person I did not want to talk to.
“Hello?”
“Are you fucking kidding me Kappy” I cried.
“I didn’t know what to do, Hazy. You weren't going to let me see Parker” he muttered.
“We never even talked about it” I said feeling the anger bubble up inside. “Kappy just please cancel the court hearing I’ll let you see him.” My voice was shaky.
“How do I know you aren’t lying?”
“You can see him today. Let me get ready and we can meet for lunch” I sighed. When I said that Auston looked at me with wide eyes.
“Fine, just text me when you leave and where you want to meet” Kappy said.
“Okay” I hung up the phone wiping my eyes.
“What are you doing, Hazy?” Auston questioned me.
“Not risking Parker getting taken away” I said walking towards our room to get dressed.
“We would win” he said raising his voice.
“Auston! We don’t know that! When Parker is old enough to understand maybe we’ll tell him. But right now I don’t want to risk anything” I said throwing my hair into a messy bun. I grabbed a pair of jeans and a hoodie. “I’m going to pick up Parker. I’ll be home later” I said walking into the kitchen grabbing my purse and slipping on a pair of my vans.
I pulled up to the restaurant already seeing Kappy inside at a table. I got Parkers car seat out of the car carrying him in. I sat the car seat down taking a seat across from Kappy.
“Hi, Kasperi”
“Hi”
“So we need to talk terms.” I said pulling out a notepad and a pen. “So he’s still too little for you to have overnight and for too long at all. You won’t have him by yourself till you can prove to me that you can handle it. AND absolutely no fighting with Auston” I said. I wrote down the terms and handed it to Kappy.
“Well what if he starts the fight?”
“Walk away. You’re both adults. Be the bigger person” I ordered. The waitress walked over taking our food and drink orders.
“Can I hold him?” Kappy asked. I took Parker out of his car seat wrapping him in his blanket handing him to Kappy.
“Support his neck”
“I know how to hold a baby, Hazy”
We had finished lunch and decided when Kappy would get to see Parker again. I tried to end it on good terms but I was still angry that he wanted to take me to court. I put Parker back in the car. Getting into the car myself.
I had just pulled into the parking garage when I got an instagram notification. I opened it up to see Kappy had tagged me in a photo. I rolled my eyes not even looking till I got into the apartment. I walked to see Auston was gone. I set Parker’s car seat on the ground and went and looked at Kappy’s post.
INSTAGRAM
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Kasperikapanen1: Got to spend time with my little boy. Remember: Blood is thicker than water.
“What a fucking idiot” I muttered as I saw a note on the counter. I walked closer to see it was addressed to me.
Hazy,
I’m not exactly sure why you’re letting Kappy see Parker. I don’t think I could be at home without starting a fight with you. Please understand that I left so we wouldn’t fight. I love you and baby P so so much. If I’m not back by tomorrow I’ll text you.
Love, Auston.
49 notes · View notes
boymeetsweevil · 6 years
Text
Hoping for the Best - NSFW
Grouping: Lifeguard!Reader x Lifeguard!Hoseok
Word Count: ~24.3k    lmao
Warnings/Themes: Friends to enemies? to lovers, SLOW burn, Descriptions of bullying, unrequited love???, Making out, Cunniligus, Fingering, Penetrative sex, Dom!Hoseok if you squint, spanking, use of the epithet brat ;), Lack of communication, Idiots who don’t talk about their feelings
Summary: “He knows you two are linked though. You must know it too. It’s impossible to deny when you both reach climax at the same time during your first time, the breath leaving him like you knocked it out and your eyes rolling into the back of your head like he scratched stars there for only you to see.”
A/N: This piece is for the BSC 1000 Followers Writing Project! based off prompt 14: Pretending to drown to get a kiss from the hot lifeguard / “Actually I’m drowning please save me.”  ALSO! the coffee shop joke makes a little more sense if you think about it in chinese but oh well 
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Even after four years of coming and going, the gentle warmth that you feel seeping into your tired bones when your shuttle returns you to your hometown every summer never seems to dull. Certainly, you will never tire of the smell of the household laundry detergent, weaved into the threads of your parents’ clothes, after two long semesters away. The same scratch of threadbare sheets across your skin as you lay in the bed you’ve had since you were 9 is always a welcome feeling to wake up to on the first morning back. The smell of porridge, a dish you’ve come to appreciate, greets you as well.
“There she is,” your father smiles at your stumbling figure over the newspaper. His eyes crinkle and he holds you in his gaze for a long few beats. There’s something bittersweet about the way the eye adjusts to the film that time lays over loved ones that have been away. Despite this, he can still clearly see the outline of your past self, much smaller but with the same bedhead and swinging feet at the dinner table. “The princess has finally awakened and decided to grace us with her presence.”
“Good morning, dad,” you yawn widely.
Your mother passes you a steaming bowl of porridge and a plate of cut fruit. She sits down with the mail and begins to sort through the small mountain of bills. Half of them she waves at your father for him to appraise as well. This reminds him.
“Say, kiddo,” his tone is careful and it wakes you up from your dreamy haze quicker than you would like. “You thinking about doing work at the marine lab again?”
“Honey, she just got back yesterday. Let her rest. You can talk about all that later, can’t you?”
“Talk about what?” Pushing your bowl back, you straighten up in your chair and turn to your father. He looks a bit guilty now that you’ve pinned him with your stare.
“Your mother and I were just wondering if you were going to renew your internship with them. They paid you the last couple of times and…If we’re being honest, we could use a little help this summer.”
“Are you guys in trouble with the house?” Alarm colors your voice and for the first time since you’d arrived, you look around carefully.
The house doesn’t look like its changed. It’s still cozy with its warm-toned exposed wood and painted cabinets. Your parents haven’t changed either. They don’t look much older than they did when you were home last. Your mother wears her favorite cardigan to protect from the chill that creeps up on her when she wakes with the sun. Your father wears a simple pair of khakis and a short sleeved polo, a regular work outfit. Perhaps it’s because you haven’t cast off the last vestiges of sleep that you don’t immediately realize it’s odd for your father, a retired school teacher, to be working in the summer. A divot forms in between your brows and you wonder how long they planned on keeping you in the dark about money troubles while spoiling you after graduation.
“Of course not, baby.” Your mother lays a soothing hand on your shoulder and pats. “Things are just a little tight lately. Your uncle needed money again, this time a little more than usual.”
“Now that you’re all grown-up, we thought you might like to try and help out a little more around the house. Fun, right?” Despite the gravity of the subject, your father still manages to smile softly at his own joke with a deep laugh.
“I actually got an email from them a weeks ago,” you return to your porridge in hopes that it’ll dislodge the tell-tail lump you get in your throat before crying. “They’re giving priority to the PhD students this year, so they won’t have any funding for interns not already affiliated with the college.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, dear. We both know how much you loved that place,” your father frowns and your expressions mirror one another. But while his face expresses sympathetic disappointment, yours shows resolution.
“No. No, it’s totally fine. This is good. I should probably keep on applying to real jobs now, anyway. And I need to be able to pay rent somewhere, so I should get a summer job too.”
It’s your mother’s turn to frown. “Oh, baby, you know you could stay here, if you want. We wouldn’t ever dream of charging you for rent.”
“No, mom,” you stand up from the table, “I should start taking responsibility. I’m gonna go out and find something simple so I can focus on job apps, but I’ll bring you whatever check I get.”
Silence falls over the room as you wash your dishes at the sink. Over just the sound of the running water, your parents exchange meaningful glances at one another. You press a kiss to both of their heads before you ascend the stairs to your room to get ready. Your father’s hand envelopes your mother’s. You’ve grown well.
The first thing you do after you’ve finished getting ready is head over to a local coffee house. It’s the most student-friendly place in all of your sleepy suburban town. What can only be described as an acoustic/hip-hop hybrid flows from hidden speakers, drowning out the sound of the bell on the front door tinkling when you step inside. The cafe is full of other enterprising 20-somethings, so no one’s eyes raise to follow you as you find a seat by the shop window.
You open your laptop and pull up your resume file. Luckily, you’ve been diligent and it’s been looked over and updated. Opening up a webpage, you begin to fill out applications for various companies looking for new hires. Some of them are just companies you think you could handle the workload at, but a few of them are positions for doing research to improve and preserve marine life, which is a passion of yours. Time passes you by quickly and you’re so involved in emailing your research advisors at your place of internship and professors who praised you in undergrad that you don’t see the man who enters the cafe; nor do you see the way all the staff behind the counter hurry to greet him.
Jin goes to retrieve his apron from the back room before coming out again to start work. He does a visual sweep over the cafe, looking for any customers who look like they’re not enjoying their experience, any spills, or display sets that are out of order. He walks over the small side table that houses a meticulously stacked set of shining chrome thermoses with the minimalist cafe logo embossed at the bottom. One of the containers is leaning precariously out of alignment and threatening to spill the entire arrangement on the poor girl working studiously nearby. Quietly, he walks over, making sure not to walk too loudly and startle the customer.
It takes a careful hand, but he manages to organize the display pyramid once more without too much clanking. A quick glance to the side informs him that you’re not a regular customer. He’s come in to work every single day since the cafe open 15 months ago, and he’s certain he’s memorized all the familiar and loyal faces. Another glance tells him that you haven’t bought anything—judging by the lack of pastry crumbs, crumpled soiled napkins, empty drinks or characteristic ring of perspiration on the table surface. But you’re clearly deep enough into your work that you can’t have just arrived either. Jin shakes his head with a reminiscing smile. College students and their desperation for a place to work. He debates going over having one of the baristas tell you that loitering isn’t allowed, but since you’re new and still a potential customer he leaves to go brew a cup of coffee instead of shooing you away.
The sound of a text notification from your mother inquiring about how you’re doing disrupts your tunnel vision. You finish uploading your CV onto an online application to a research facility in the nearby city and shoot her back a text telling her you’re at the new cafe in town. Her responding notification comes quickly, the first few lines asking “isn’t that where your friend-” before cutting off. Before you answer her, you figure you should stretch your legs as an excuse to buy a sugary drink. You stand up and push out your chair, about to turn around and head to the counter, but your chair bumps against something. The something yelps and takes a few shuffled steps back. You turn with imploring hands already out, ready to apologize and curse yourself for being too in your own world. You’re not expecting to see Kim Seokjin standing behind you with a takeaway coffee and fixings looking equally shocked to see you.
“Jin? Oh my god, I haven’t seen you in so long!” A smile splits your face and you gesture towards your table while clearing some of your stuff to the side so he has some room to put his things down.
“I know. I was wondering if you were gonna be one of those people who skips town forever after they leave for college, but I guess you’re not.”
“No, that’s not quite me,” you duck your head bashfully, “What about you? Do you work around here?” The takeaway coffee sits in front of him, steaming. He looks to be on his way out. “Or is that where you’re headed now?”
“This is actually for you,” he chuckles. “But if I’d known the free-loader sitting out here without buying anything was you, I would'vr run down to a Starbucks and got you one of those candy drinks instead of this blonde roast.”
“I see you’re still a coffee snob.” You take the coffee anyway, though. A rigorous four years at college made you less discriminatory about your caffeine choices. If it would keep you up, you would drink it. That being said, you still hate the taste of plain coffee and are immediately grateful when you notice the sugar shaker and tiny cream pitcher that Jin brought to the table as well.
“I see you still have the palate of 4 year old.” His nose wrinkles as he watches you ruin the perfect coffee he made for you with too much cream and a heinous amount of sugar.
You stick your tongue out at him before taking a careful sip of the hot drink. It tastes like hot, coffee-flavored ice cream, so you’re satisfied.“If you’re not going to work, what brings you here?”
“This is my work. I own this place,” he says with a smirk and grand sweeping movement of his arm towards the rest of the cafe. You look at the store’s logo printed in metallic yellow characters throughout the space—GoldJin Coffee. Your eyes widen and you look back down at your blonde roast. Blonde roast…golden coffee…GoldJin Coffee. You groan at the horrible pun and his sudden squeaking laugh tells you he’s delighted that you get the joke.
“I see your sense of humor is still terrible. Good to know,” you deadpan.
“But the coffee is good. You gotta admit it’s good.”
“It is,” you nod as you take another sip, eyes closing partially at the taste and partially at his awful dad-sensibility. “I guess it has to be if you’re going to found this place on such a shitty joke.”
He leans in conspiratorially, making you lean in too. “If I’m being honest…when I explained the joke on the company instagram page, we lost 20 followers. But the sales never dipped, so I’m fine.” He waits until you’ve put your cup down before asking, “What about you. Are you working?”
“Yeah. Well, actually no. I’m trying to find some work for the summer, but I was also applying for longer-term jobs before you came over.”
“I heard you were working at the BTU marine department,” he says with furrowed brows. You sigh at the mention of the internship again.
“I was, but they’ve decided to give actual BTU students priority. Which I totally understand. But I need money, so I can’t really afford to do a free internship right now. Hence the frantic job applications during my precious summer break.”
“Oh, well why don’t you work at the country club? My dad says that they could use some help over there. He still remembers you, I’m sure.”
“What kind of work?”
Although you’re fairly equal-opportunity when it comes to jobs, you’re not about to spend your break picking up after rich people, even if they produced people like your high school friend Jin. He picks up on your wary tone and laughs.
“Don’t worry. It’s nothing too degrading. They need help at the children’s pool. Can you still freestyle like you used to?”
He grins at you fondly, fairly sure the answer is yes given that you became friends because he recruited you himself to the swim team in your freshman year. As one of the handful of upperclassmen there, he was assigned to you as your practice and tournament mentor. 
Memories of the smell of chlorine saturating the air and sunburns on your shoulders dance across your mind’s eye. Almost as if it were happening right then and there, you remember the sound of Jin yelling at you as you pushed your body to slice through the water faster and faster during practices. You remember the feeling of pressing a cold pack to his shoulder after he pulled a muscle training in the weight room too hard and couldn’t make it to the very tournament he’d been prepping for. You remember Jin cradling your tear-stained face and laughing with you after you beat your record by more than you could have ever imagined. You remember the two of you sharing a seat and blanket on the bus during winter meets. You remember Jin sneaking into the girl’s bathroom to bring you the tampons you left in your locker only to get caught by Lisa, the girls team coach, and forced to do 50 laps.There’s no way you could forget any of that.
Your eyes get a little misty. “Hell yeah, I do.”
“Great,” he says after a beat. “If you pass the lifeguard test and get picked, it pays 20 an hour and some of the parents leave tips.”
“Are you serious? Since when do people tip lifeguards?”
He shrugs. “It’s the country club. They do it because they can. They’re testing today at four, you know.”
You check your phone and see that you have just enough time to run back to your house to grab some swim stuff and get to the club in time for the test. Pulling out a 10 dollar bill, you thank the universe for sending Jin to you in this hour of financial need.
“Here’s a 10. I don’t know how much this coffee costs, but knowing you it’s probably overpriced.”
“You don’t have to pay—” he gapes before you cut him off with a smile and dismissive hand wave.
“Just take the money, Jin. I’m going over there right now. Wish me luck.”
He can only nod, picking up the empty sugar packets and wiping down the few stray droplets of cream you left on the table while you pack. You’re out the door before he can actually get any words of encouragement out, but he’s certain you won’t need it. It’s not until he comes back with a spray bottle to properly clean the table and sees the 10 dollar bill that he realizes he probably should have warned you who you might see at the pool.
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The pool, as it happens, has its own sector at the club and its own parking lot. Both the regular pool and the kiddie pool look onto the rolling green of the golf course that is rumored to have won national gardening competitions. The parking spaces are ample and you are glad for this. For some reason you feel it would be doing your vehicle a disservice if you were forced to park it next to what looked like a 2020 Bentley. Driving in your father’s two digit year-old compact car past the valet makes you realized it’s been a while since you’ve been on the wealthier side of town.
You reminisce as you follow the signs that lead you to the lifeguard test. The last time you were in the area, it was for Jin’s graduation party. There had been a large, beautiful, and somehow legal bonfire in the backyard of the Kim residence. It was probably one of the most genuinely entertaining parties you’d gone to, beating out nearly all of the drunk raves you’d attended during college. Most of the guests were family friends of the Kims, but the rest were swim team members. Given that you’d all become comfortable with one another while in a near-constant state of wetness and undress, there were no awkward party jitters. You all drank from red Solo cups and bonded over stories about Jin since he was the man of the hour. It would have been a perfect party if not for one person. Almost on command, you can feel your heart-rate spike at the thought of the most annoying boy you had ever encountered. He had been invited to the party as well and spent the whole night trying to get your attention, not unlike how he behaved when you were in classes together. You try to remain calm before the swim test and force the annoying memories back to the corner of your mind. Lucky for you, he wouldn’t ever bother you again.
When you finally make your way out of the winding women’s changing room, you’re greeted by the sight of crystalline blue water ebbing gently within the large outdoor pool. A gathering of about 8 other people are chattering amongst themselves while a single lifeguard looks over a clipboard. Most of them turn as you approach and you nod a bit shyly before the lifeguard checks the time and decides to begin the test. Any other time, you would be nervous but this isn’t an ordinary test environment. The only feeling swimming and being in water can give you is a sense of deep calm. This proves to give you a leg up because not even 5 minutes into the directions two people leave after the lifeguard says the pressure of the job isn’t for those who freeze up while stressed. More people end up getting cut when they ask you all to tread water without using your arms for 5 minutes. Suddenly you are glad that you kept a regular swim schedule in college to maintain your stress. Your arms are burning by the time they ask you to retrieve a brick from the 10 foot portion of the pool floor, but you make it through. By the end, there are only 3 other people who have finished with you.
You’re blotting at your skin with the towel you brought, waiting for your legs to stop feeling like lead so you can go back to the car, when the head lifeguard approaches you.
“I was paying special attention to you out there,” she says. Her voice doesn’t sound indicting, but it doesn’t sound laudatory either. She’s a stern looking woman, probably in her mid 30’s. Her nametag reads Stella, but you have a hunch that’s not her real name. “Have you done this before?”
“Yeah,” you wrap yourself protectively in your towel, her gaze making you feel transparent. “My highschool coach used to make us take this test every year if we wanted to get on varsity and stay there. And I was the gym lifeguard during the weekends in college.”
She’s silent for a beat and squints, taking in your open expression. “Were you one of Sun’s pupils?”
“Yeah, you know him?”
“Of course. He was my coach too. You can always tell when someone has trained under him. It’s like their stress is water soluble or something.” She finally cracks a grin and you smile, relieved that she doesn’t have a bone to pick with you. “You know CPR?”
You nod and she smiles wider before lowering her voice to a whisper. “I like you. I’ll tell you a secret. We already had the first lifeguard picked out, but we needed a second one to meet pool standards.” You nod with understanding.  “You just got hired.”
“Thank you so much. You won’t regret it.” Stella tosses her head back at your earnest confessions. “When can I start?”
“Tomorrow, if you can. But first come meet the other guy that way you all can start building rapport. You might know him. He’s another one of Sun’s kids. Small world, huh?”
She walks over to the lifeguard lounge and calls into the back.
“Hey! Send Jung out, will you? We found another Sun kid for the little pool, I want them to meet.”
A few moments later a guy with bright orange hair stumbles out of the lounge, wearing the standard red trunks and a matching life vest. When he’s only a few meters away your heart plummets into your stomach. Jung Hoseok’s eyes light up in recognition and he gives you a bright smile.
“Hey, long time no see,” he chirps. When you don’t say anything Stella raises a brow and coughs a little awkwardly. You speak up, remembering the job at stake.
“Hey, Hoseok.” Stella claps a heavy hand on your shoulders, sensing the tension in the way your voice shrinks over the syllables of his name.
“Well, clearly you kids know each other. Hoseok here can tell you about the hours and the jobs you have when you’re not on the chair. If there are any issues, come to me.” No one says anything, so she adds, “I’ll leave you both to it,” before heading to the lounge.
You watch her leave to avoid making eye contact with him, but when she disappears into the lounge Hoseok pipes up.
“This is really crazy, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it really is.” A headache is building in your temples at the sound of his voice. Despite the fact that it’s deepened after nearly a decade, it still elicits the same curl of annoyance under your skin. “Stella said you can tell me about the hours and stuff?”
He doesn’t seem to pick up on your clipped, overly polite tone. “Totally. So, we come in at 7am, six days a week, and open up the little pool and put out the ropes.You know, stuff coach Sun would make us do if we were on our phones during practice, remember?”
You nod, eyes closed and the pinching the bridge of your nose.
“Then we’ll be up in the chairs for 90 minutes at a time. If no one gets hurt, then we can take 20 minutes to swim or take sun breaks. We close 3 hours early on Sundays, though. Oh yeah! They have sunblock and water in the lounge that we can use whenever so you don’t have to—what’s wrong? Are you ok?”
It seems easier to let him escort you to a bench by the poolside than to yell at him about personal space. Besides, under the clean scent of his deodorant, he smells like the the pool and sunscreen and sun warmed skin. The smell actually settles your nerves a bit and your migraine wanes enough for you to open your eyes.
Unsurprisingly, Jung Hoseok is leaning too closely into your space, but it’s been so long that the instinct to bark at him seems to have died away. Up close you can see, from a purely objective standpoint of course, that time has been kind of him. The faded orange of his hair tells you it must have been been dyed a while ago. The water probably also took its toll on his hair judging by the way his hair waves. Clearly, he’s already spent plenty of time in the sun because his hair has somewhat natural looking, almost blond, highlights and his skin is a smooth expanse of warm brown, free of the pimples he had during adolescence. 
The bright red life vest doesn’t hide much of his upper half, which is lean and sculpted, the hint of abs visible as he curls towards you. But this is Jung Hoseok, so you quickly stop your clinical appraisal of his body and go back to politely looking at his face. The first thing you notice is that the characteristic set of braces he wore all through high school are gone and leave only a straight, white smile in its wake. You note that the little beauty mark that rests above his lip is still there. Duly noted. His face is still as annoyingly not-ugly as it has always been, though his jaw has filled out more along with everything else that’s broadened with age. You suppose you shouldn’t be surprised that Jung Hoseok had to grow up eventually. At least physically. Emotionally and mentally speaking, his growth has yet to be determined.
A water bottle suddenly appears in your face, nearly poking you in the eye. His grace, you decide, has not improved at all.
“Seems like you still get headaches if you push yourself too hard in the pool,” he says with a soft smile.
“What would you know about that,” you grumble, tone on the verge of impolite.
“You always used to get them when you were trying to shave your times. It was always kinda sad to watch.”
“Yeah, well…” You can’t think of anything to say. Clearly, he was observant, because you were good at hiding your ailments from the team. “What were you saying about swim breaks?”
He starts up again, telling you about where you could order your swimsuit and where you could get free snacks in the country club and that playing with the kids was the fastest way to get tipped. Your headache lessens as you continue to drink and let him chatter on in the background. After a while he exhausts all the knowledge he acquired after being on payroll for a week and your legs feel sturdy enough that you can walk back to the car. You stand, towel forgotten until it falls at your feet revealing your bathing suit clad figure. Fortunately, you wore one of your more conservative swimsuits since this was technically a job interview of sorts, but even in your one-piece you feel exposed in front of Hoseok. Nothing is subtle about the way his gaze follow the curves of your body or the way his mouth and eyelids drop slightly while staring. When he finally makes his way back up to your face, your fiery gaze and hot cheeks are enough for him to avert his eyes quickly.
“Guess you haven’t changed at all,” you mutter before pulling the towel back around you more securely and marching back to the car.
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Jin has just served his last Goldilatte of the day when you coming bursting through the door. The bell alerting that a customer has arrived rattles shrilly and he curses himself for not just sending you a warning text, but he thought he had more time. He opens one eye cautiously to see you seething in front of him with dripping wet hair and a damp looking hoodie. There is still a little comfort for him, knowing that you’re not tall enough to climb over the cake display and throttle him.
“Did you or did you not know that Jung Hoseok was also taking the lifeguard position? Answer truthfully and I won’t cause an even bigger scene in the middle of your cafe.”
Knowing you, you probably wouldn’t actually cause a scene but he still checks behind your shoulder cautiously and sees that some patrons have taken off their ever-present headphones to eavesdrop on the conversation. With the poise of a businessman, he silently removes his apron and comes from behind the counter to guide you to his office for some privacy. You sit back in the chair facing him, pouting at him expectantly.
“I did know. My father mentioned it while we were having dinner last week.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me.”
“Honestly…I just forgot. The cafe is busy and it had been a week since he told me, so it was kind of just old news. I certainly wasn’t expecting to run into you. If you had let me know you were back in town sooner, I would have probably remembered to tell you.”
“So this is my fault now?”
“No, but I don’t think anyone is really at fault. How bad was it? Seeing him, I mean.”
Your mouth is open and you’re ready to complain about Hoseok just like the old days, but you can’t think of anything he’d actually done wrong while you were at the pool. In fact, he’d been welcoming...in his own way. He’d always been a close talker, even in high school, and if it weren’t him you wouldn’t be bothered. He’d even offered you water after noticing your headache.
“Do you remember the headaches I used to get,” you blurt out. Jin startles a bit at your outburst.
“What headaches?”
“I used to get really bad exertion headaches during practices.” Jin’s confused look has you brushing it off. “That was random, sorry.”
“Okay. Well, it sounds like he didn’t ask you out a million times, so maybe he grew up.” His hands spread in the air like the problem has dissipated into the atmosphere.
“B-but he still checked me out today when I dropped my towel. I had a bathing suit on and he looked like his eyes were going to fall out. What well-adjusted grown man acts like that?” You purposely leave the fact that you gave him a good look over as well. But that’s because what you did was different…
“Look,” he says, laying a sympathetic hand on yours, “He’s probably just going through all the feelings he had last when you were around. I’m sure he’ll get used to your presence and then realize the feelings are old and move on.”
The finality of the idea should be comforting to you, but something about the edges of it gnaws at you unpleasantly. You can’t figure out what it is about the idea that bothers you so much even as you drive your car back to your house, taking the scenic routes so you have time to ruminate and can stay out with the sun a bit longer. Breaking the news about your new cushy job at the country club pool gives your mind a break from the emotional puzzle because the relief that washes over your parents when you tell them your rate of pay makes you proud. But once you’ve had your fill of scrolling through social media and are tucked away in your bed, you can’t stop thinking about Jung Hoseok.
It would be less confusing if hindsight wasn’t 20/20. Looking back, you realize that maybe you made Hoseok out to be a bit more of a nuisance than he actually was. You’d gone to the same elementary school once upon a time. And you’d had quite a few play dates at each other’s houses when you were really young, but that changed when you turned 12. He moved away for middle school because his parents wanted him at a new place where he could dance. On the night before he’d moved away, you’d both cried in each other’s arms and when your father finally came to pick you up, you’d kissed his cheek and told him not to forget you. He’d squeezed you hard and said he wouldn’t. Two years later, you were starting high school and heard rumors that he had come back and was staying. You remembered your wish and hoped then that he hadn’t forgotten, but it seemed that he must have. He was a completely different person.
On the first day of each year, an assembly for all the students was held so that new students who didn’t come from the local middle school could come up and be seen and welcomed. 
He’d been up on the stage and he’d looked so different that you almost didn’t recognize him as he crossed in front of your spot on stage as one of the new student tour guides. As he passed you, he made eye contact with you, making hope bloom in your chest. After everyone was seated, each new student was asked to come up when their name was called and stand so the student body could see them. At the sound of Hoseok’s name, a deep and raucous applause coming from a few of the boys in the audience sounded. You could recognize the voices of some of the boys in the crowd, the rowdier ones that caused trouble for teachers but remained like idols in the eyes of many students. That they had taken Hoseok in surprised you. He didn’t seem like their type of recruit—he was too open and caring. The principle then asked the student tour guides to come up to the front of the stage and introduce themselves as well, and you suddenly worried you’d stutter or do something to make the kids in the audience act up again. Your clothing choice, your hairstyle, your gait all suddenly became potential areas for critique as you walked to the microphone, but it was too late then. You just had to make sure you gave a normal introduction.
“Hello. I am one of the student guides. If you have any questions and you see me, don’t be afraid to come up and ask.”
A false sense of security settled over you when you just got regular polite applause. It was a short introduction, and it was ordinary enough that no one could say anything. You gave a quick curtsy to the audience, as was encouraged of students when they were on stage, and a long low wolf-whistle sounded out. Blood rushed to your face and you turned quickly to find the source. Hoseok froze mid-whistle, not expecting you to turn around before he was through. At least he had the decency to look ashamed, but it didn’t do anything to assuage the rolling laughter that was coming from not only the rowdy boys in the back of the auditorium, but most of the students below. With flaming cheeks, you rushed back to your seat with the other guides. One nice girl assured you that your uniform skirt more than long enough to cover anything and that you didn’t actually flash anyone, but that wasn’t your concern. Instead, you were dealing with the fact that your last words to Hoseok as a friend hadn’t meant anything.
After the speech, he tried to find you. But he couldn’t. You were lost in the sea of students leaving the assembly and his new friends were too excited about how well the joke went to let him go. He endured a few playful headlocks and punches until he made up a solid excuse about not wanting to stick around for the principal to find him. They all dispersed after that, but he never got the chance to tell you it was just a joke, that it was just what he needed to do to get into their clique. He never got the chance to apologize, to tell you that he still remembered what you told him. He was certain that if he could just get a moment alone with you, he would be able to right his wrong, but you were determined to never give him the time of day again.
Because you hadn’t given your name in your introduction speech, no one really knew it was you on the first day of school who seemingly flashed the new students, but you still couldn’t shake off the other conflicting feelings. It seemed that from that moment on, the universe was determined to put you near Hoseok so you could never get peace of mind. He was in so many of your classes, always trying to be desk partners, study buddies, lab mates and you’d thwarted all the offers that you could. When you couldn’t avoid him, you tried your best not to chat to him. You would hiss at him if he attempted conversations, about movies you liked or music you listened to, or asked you if you still liked things he remembered from when you were both young. Every time you would shut him down, but he seemed fueled by that. He followed you everywhere. He even followed you to swimming.
Two weeks later, on the day of tryouts, you saw Hoseok sitting on the bleachers next to your recruiter and went back into the changing rooms immediately to put on a t-shirt, knowing it might slow your times and keep you from getting on the team. But it was worth the protection from him wolf-whistling or any other form of public humiliation he had for you. The shirt worked for a few laps since you were pushing yourself to go harder than usual to make up for the drag in the water, but the coach pulled you aside and told you that there was nothing to be ashamed of and that the shirt was slowing your times and there were no shirts allowed at races. Averting your eyes from the rest of the students watching the drama unfold, you pulled off your shirt and swam your heart out for the rest of the day, putting all your anger and embarrassment into the laps until you were gasping. You’d made it onto the team, but it almost didn’t feel worth it when you saw that he would also be on the team with you.
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Your phone chimes, alerting you that you should go to sleep soon if you want 7 hours before getting up with the chickens the next morning for your first day of work. Sighing, you turn over in your sheets, suddenly too hot. When you wake up in the morning, you realize you dreamt of something, but the only thing you can remember is the very end. You recall being 13 and running from something in your high school hallways and into a pair of warm brown arms. The clock on your phone tells you that you have 6 more minutes of sleep, but you resist the tease of a micro nap and hop in the shower instead. It’s not until you’re back out and clean that you realize your work uniform isn’t coming until the next day and your only one-piece is still wet because you forgot to switch the laundry loads. Groaning, you hunt for your most demure suit and find some high waisted bottoms and a sportier cut top from your dresser and hope for the best.
The sun is out and high when you arrive at the little pool. You’re already sweating in the hoodie you threw over yourself as last minute effort to cover up. On the other side of the lattice gate separating the two pools, Hoseok sees you walking in. He gives you a big wave and runs back inside to come greet you, bangs bouncing when he runs over. He’s amazingly chipper for someone at 7 in the morning but tones it down a bit when he sees that you look like you had a rough night.
“Ready to lay out the ropes?” His eyes are big and bright, and most importantly, on your face.
“Sure.”
You follow him through the lounge, taking in the stacks of boxes of pools supplies and the senior lifeguards drinking coffee or dozing off since the larger pool doesn’t open until a little later. Stella gives you a thumbs up from her little glass cubicle where she’s on the phone. Hoseok jumps into the water, already in his typical red board shorts with the club logo embroidered onto them, and swims with the dividing rope across the width of the pool.
“You should come in. The water feels great and it’ll be the only time today its not filled filled with people’s pee.”
Trying to remember Jin’s theory, you push down the instinctual suspicion towards him wanting you to get in the pool with him. To aid some of your nerves you turn around before stripping out of your hoodie and jump quickly into the water before swimming a casual distance over to him. Not too close but not too far.
“So, what made you—”
“About yesterday—”
The corner of your mouth tugs up in spite of yourself when you both start talking at the same time. You gesture for him to go first and he looks at you a bit nervously before continuing.
“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“It’s fine,” you assure him, focusing on the silly way his hair lays flat against his head to diffuse the tension. “It’s only natural to look at stuff for a second when it just…appears.”
“No, no. I mean, there’s no real excuse for it. I guess I still—”
“I get it, it was a knee jerk reaction to something you’re used to doing. It’s cool. It’s been years. The slate is clear. Let’s just forget about it and make this not awkward.”
“But it wasn’t just—”
His cryptic speech sends you into a panic and you do the first thing that comes to mind, which is curl into fetal position so you can dunk yourself underwater. You drop a few feet to the bottom of the pool, knowing that he can still completely see you and reach you. A hand curls around your arm, surprising a few bubbles out of you, and pulls with an impressive amount of strength. At the surface you gasp out of indignation and wipe your eyes.
“Shit! Sorry, that was a lot but I really would like to explain—“
“I swear to god, Jung, if you don’t—“
“I didn’t forget about you,” he says suddenly with a small voice. The water around you appears to have nearly frozen in response to the tension in the air. Not even the smallest ripple dares tip the tenuous balance of the moment.
Your breath hitches and you wonder if maybe you both stayed up thinking about the same thing last night. But that couldn’t be it. That would be too much of a coincidence.
Hesitation has his arm trembling as he reaches out towards your stiff form. Maybe you won’t run away this time and he can get everything out. But the movement of his arm breaks your stupor and sends you stumbling back a foot in the water. The palms of his hands come up as a sign that he’s not trying to hurt you.
“Do you remember before I left for middle school? What you said to me that night? Because I do. And I didn’t break my promise, I didn’t forget you.”
“You sure about that?”
“What? Of course I didn’t. Don’t you remember all the times I tried to talk to you and start where we left off?”
“You may not have forgotten about me,” you practically spit the words at him, “But you broke your promise to me the minute you pulled that shit at the student assembly.” He winces and you feel emboldened. “And let’s not forget that stunt you pulled in the cafeteria in the front of literally everyone.”
Hoseok enters the lunchroom with his friends and automatically scans the room for you.
“You looking for your girlfriend, Jung?”
“No need. I already know where you mom lives,” he says lightly, still searching for your a glimpse backpack or the blue tracksuit you wore that day for the race you had later.
He finds you in the lunchline, debating between milk and water while the student in front of you haggles for an extra serving. Running over, he uses the intimidation factor of him and his two larger friends’ presence to cut in front of the student behind you.
“You should pick the chocolate milk. It’s your favorite.”
He can practically see hairs on your neck stand up when you hear his voice and he’s certain that if you had claws they would be out and poking holes through the little cardboard container in your hand. You put the carton back down in its ice bucket and take a water.
“Coach said dairy will slow us down,” your answer is curt as you move forward in the line. The lunch lady loads up your tray how you ask and you run to the cash register to pay before he can even pick up the milk.
Steeling himself with determination, he follows behind, trying to make sure he doesn’t lose sight of you. When he gets to the register, all he sees is your ID card where you left it in your hurry. Quickly he retrieves it and looks over the cafeteria, watching your head bob away. He finds you soon after, seated at the end of the swimming table next to Jin. His two friends follow behind more slowly, one carrying his tray.
“You ready for the race, squirt?” Jin puts chicken strip on your plate as he usually does, worried about your protein intake.
“I think so. If I get to the gym early to stretch it should be fine,” you mutter thoughtfully around your fork.
“I’ll go with you and we can do some circuits together.” You look to your left to see Hoseok smiling brightly, his braces glinting in the fluorescent lighting.
“This table is full. You’ll have to sit with your mob boss at his table,” you snark. Jin is about to intervene and give you both the talk about team inclusivity when Hosoek playfully brandishes your ID inches away from your face.
“Come sit with us and you can have this back.” At sight of the plastic card, you pat the pockets of your suit frantically before coming up short. You stand up. You’re sick of Jung Hoseok always bugging you.
“Give it back,” you say lowly so only he can hear.
You’re already making a scene by standing in the middle of the cafeteria, but people don’t notice just yet because the lunch period has just started and plenty of others are still getting settled.
“Come sit with me, and I will.”
“I don’t want to sit with you. Just give me the card.”
“Not until you sit with me.”
The way your heartbeat picks up probably isn’t healthy, but you’re so frustrated that you’re ready to burst. You try playing his own game, seeing if embarrassing him will get him to comply.
“Why are you always following me around, huh?” Your voice cuts through most of the chatter and people quiet down to turn ans watch the two of you. “Do you have a crush on me or something?”
A hush of low murmurs runs through the room and you can hear people giggling to themselves. Even though it was supposed to target him, you face still feels hot.
“Yeah, I do.”
The crowd erupts at his boldness. The same boys from the day of the assembly cheer him on. You stand there, shocked and humiliated. Being inexperienced when it came to crushes meant that you were completely unaware that all of Hoseok’s constant bothering might have been him trying to get you on his arm. Angry tears rapidly fill your waterline and you have to work hard to keep a straight face so you don’t completely break down in front of the student body. You keep your face turned towards him so as not to let anyone else know that you’re crying. Hoseok’s expression goes from proud of finally confessing to you to horrified at seeing you cry. The smile he had slips off immediately and is replaced with terror and he can only look up at Jin helplessly as he comes up behind you. The upperclassman holds out his hand, in which Hoseok places your ID. Jin silently takes your tray from you and lets you bury your face in his matching tracksuit top to hide from the gossiping onlookers.
“It’s okay,” Jin says softly. Hoseok only hears a pathetic high noise leave you before you’re back at your table, clutching at Jin with your shoulders heaving from embarrassment.
His friends tug on his sleeve until they get him to stumble blindly over to their table.
“Didn’t know you had it in you, Jung.” One of the boys says, eying your table with a mean smile.
“How come you have two milks,” another asks before quickly stealing the brown carton marked ‘chocolate’ off his tray.
Thanks to a great deal of suppression, you hadn’t thought of that fateful day in the cafeteria for years. But it’s crystal clear in your memory now. Your hands are balled up under the water’s surface and they’re shaking with unresolved rage and pity for your 14 year-old self.
“I can explain that too.” He runs a hand through his hair, wetting it again and turning it a deep russet.
“Of course you can. Nothing is ever your fault.”
You swim away from him before stalking to the lounge. The sound of a second set of splashes lets you know that he’s following after you, but you don’t care. Stella has finished with her phone call by the time you make your way to her cubicle. You knock harshly on the glass door and several other life guards can sense something is wrong as they watch Hoseok come dripping over.
“What is it, kid?” Stella looks quickly between your thunderous expression and Hoseok’s defeated one.
“Something’s come up. I have to go. I just wanted to let you know so someone could cover my shift. Maybe I can come back some other time and cover a shift at the big pool.” You turn on your heel and leave, not even bothering to rinse off in the showers or pat yourself dry with a towel.
Stella and Hoseok watch you storm off. When the sound of your car’s engine starts, she turns to him.
“Explain yourself. Now.”
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Usually, you would have your phone connected to the car’s speaker system with an aux cord to listen to some music while driving and enjoying the scenic small town roads. But bumping heads with Hoseok like old times calls for silence instead.
Rumbling in your stomach reminds you that you skipped breakfast to get to work on time—a bad habit that college had instilled in you. You decide to head to the grocery store and pick something fast up for lunch before heading home and taking an anger nap. Sleep probably won’t solve your problems, but your sure that about 8% of your irritation is from having gotten up so early after such a shitty night’s sleep.
Halfway to the grocery store you see your mother walking on the sidewalk, carrying recyclable shopping bags. You honk and pull over so she can ride with you.
“Well, isn’t this a nice surprise.”
“Hi, mom."
The smile you give her is small, but genuine as her cheery mood lightens yours a bit. Being your mother, though, she can still tell something’s wrong as you drive through the narrow roads slower than normal. While playing hooky, no less.
“Are you going to tell me why you’re not at the country club for your first day of work or would you rather I talk to you about the weather?” You sigh, but decide that it’s better to rant instead of keeping everything bottled up.
“It’s nothing too big, really. There’s just a classmate at work that I—”
“Oh, yes! Little Jung Hoseok, right? Poor thing. I just saw his mother this morning while I was mowing the lawn and she stopped for a chat. She told me all about his-,” she stops to search for the right word, “his rough patch when he was younger.”
You chuckle dryly. “She told you about that?”
“Yes! She told me all about the hard time he had when he moved away. I can’t believe they bullied him out of the dance academy. All because they were jealous he was a presidential scholar invited from outside the district. Poor baby. Frankly, I can’t believe you knew and didn’t say anything all this time.”
The light changes from yellow to red faster than you’re ready for and you hit the brakes a little too hard as you process what your mother told you.
“I, uh, thought you were talking about something else. I didn’t know about that part.” You try to sound as casual as possible, knowing that with the right prompting tone, your mother will let out all the secrets like a floodgate. “What else did Mrs. Jung say?”
“She said that was the reason he came back to the neighborhood high school. Apparently, he would cry himself to sleep. Said he knew he couldn’t do the rest of the program at the high school, but they begged him to stay for middle school. And he did, but as soon as it was over he transferred back here.”
You pull into the parking lot slowly so you don’t have to devote too much attention to parking correctly and can listen to all the details.
“But it sounds like things didn’t get better right then. He fell in with some of those wild kids. I think one of them was that Kim Taehyung’s older brother. Gorgeous boy, ugh. What ever happened with him. Did he go to college?”
“Mom, wait. What about Hoseok?” You drag her by the arm into the lobby of the store, carrying the basket on your other arm.
“That’s right. Hoseok. What was I saying?” She turns to look at you after she throws some lettuce in the basket.
“You were saying he got involved with the wrong crowd?”
“Right, right. Well she said that when he came back during the summer he started hanging around with them. At first it didn’t seem so bad because she and his father were just glad he finally had friends and he didn’t seem to be misbehaving much. Just following them around because he was invited. You know, stuff like that.”
She hands you the grocery list while gesticulating with the flow of the story and you scramble to grab the items from the aisle you’re in while she wanders off. You have to chase her without spilling the contents of the basket.
“But once school started, she said he started acting out. He would get pulled out of class with those kids for being disruptive, and she said one particular student was always asking the teacher to separate them because he wouldn’t leave her alone.” You blush, realizing she’s describing you. “If it weren’t for the fact that most of the teachers knew what he was really like from elementary school, I’m sure they would have locked him in detention for the whole four years.”
You feel sad for Hoseok, but there’s also a pang of guilt forming in your gut. “Did she say why they didn’t? Punish him, I mean.”
“I think she said something about when they asked him why he kept bothering that student, he said he was just trying to get them to remember him. They felt bad because he was trying to get his friend back. So they just gave him warnings.”
“Well,” you say, trying to keep your voice sounding light and uninvolved as you play devil’s advocate, “Even if his intentions were good, shouldn’t the teacher’s have taken stricter action? Since he was making that girl uncomfortable and all?”
You mother stops her stroll through the frozen food aisle to turn back at you and fix you with an unreadable look.
“Normally, I would right there with you on that. But I remember little Hoseok when you all used to play on the rug in the living room. He would come in from outside and put the flowers he picked in your hair and tell you that you looked like the fairies in his books at home. Bullying can sure harden someone, but I don’t know if it can completely change who they are. At least, it doesn’t sound like that’s what happened here. Seeing as, once he came back, he made a beeline straight for his favorite person. Every chance he got.”
She plucks the list out of your grasp and steps forward to stand in front of you. When she lays a hand on your cheek, you can’t meet her gaze. Instead you look down at the way her loafers point directly towards your sneakers.
“How is Hoseok, by the way?” She turns her back to you and looks for the frozen bags of fruit that you always use in your smoothies.
“He seems a lot better,” you answer back honestly.
After arriving back at your house and helping your mom, your hands itch and you find yourself feeling restless. Talking things out with your mom would probably help, but you don’t want to feel small and fourteen again while you do it. Jin’s work schedule is still a mystery to you, but you guess that he’s the type of boss to come in most days, if not everyday, and drive over there to see if he has time for you.
Jin takes in the way your shoulders hunch as you walk into the door and immediately starts up on a warm drink he knows will cheer you up. It involves too much milk, cocoa powder, a disgusting amount of whipped cream and chocolate shavings. He has to pull back his coffee snob persona while he makes it. But the way you immediately run a finger through the mountain of cream, eating half of it in one breath, tells him that you’re not broken beyond repair.
“What’s wrong?”
“Do you think that…maybe I was, I don’t know, too hard on Hoseok when we were in school?”
“Absolutely,” he says with zero hesitation. When your eyes widen with uncovered guilt and your mouth drops open, he’s quick to amend his statement. “I mean, you have every right to be mad about the times he put you on the spot. But I think there’s things you don’t know that would have made it so you both could have been friends in the end.”
“Are you talking about the bullying thing at his middle school?”
“What the—he told you?”
“No,” you whine and drop your head onto the table, covering your head with your arms. “I found out an hour ago. From my mom, of all people.”
“Wow. Moms really do know everything.”
“I know. It’s annoying.” Jin lets you sulk for a moment before steering the conversation back in the direction it needs to go.
“So I guess you know about how he kind of fell in with the wrong crew after coming back as a protective strategy, right?”
“Yeah, I mean…I wasn’t sure? But it seemed like that’s what that was because those kids really didn’t seem like his type of friends. I could tell even back then.” You play with the little cardboard sleeve around the still warm cup. Made from 100% biodegradable materials, it reads.
“Without giving too much away—because this isn’t really my secret to tell—let’s just say that they knew he wasn’t like them, but they were intrigued enough and wanted to test his loyalty. So to speak.”
You prop yourself up on your elbows, gears turning. “What, like frat hazing or something?”
“Bingo,” Jin shoots finger guns at you. “That’s all I’m gonna give you, though. I’ve already said too much.” He reaches forward and takes a sip of your drink before immediately spitting it back into the cup. “It’s a wonder you still have functioning tastebuds. God, that’s disgusting. I can’t believe I created a monster.”
“That was my drink, asshole.”
“Hey, at least you didn’t pay good money for it.” He smirks and you roll your eyes before putting your phone and keys back in your pocket. “You’re really leaving because of the drink?”
“No, you narcissist. I’m going back to work.”
“Oh. Gonna go have a Nicholas Sparks moment in the middle of the kiddie pool?”
Confusion pinches at your features. “Who’s Nicholas Sparks?”
“No one,” he says quickly. “It’s just, uh, an old saying. Go to work.” He pushes you out of the door quickly before you can ask why he has his lying voice on.
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The drive back to the pool feels completely different from the one you took this morning. You don’t feel happier, necessarily, but you feel less weighed down by some invisible and perplexing force. For the first time in 48 hours you feel like you can name your feelings a little more clearly. Like you made a mistake, but you also feel like you can fix it.
You make it to the lounge before Stella ambushes you with a firm grip around your arm dragging you away from the entrance to the kiddie pool.
“I see that you’re back and I’m not going to question you for leaving, because I’m pretty sure I know why now. You go out there and try and do your job, and I’ll understand if it’s tough for you. But if you pull something like leaving work because it’s hard being star-crossed lovers again, I will give your job to the next person who knows what a pool looks like. Are we clear?”
“Yes,” you breathe, not even bothering to correct her assumption that you and Hoseok are star-crossed lovers even though it’s not 100% true. The first step you take is a hesitant one, but when Stella doesn’t say anything, you head out to the pool.
Hoseok and some other lifeguard are seated in regular pool chairs because the pool is small enough and shallow enough that they can survey the layout and the tiny swimmers without the added height of the usual chairs. Normally, Hoseok would be chatting away with his shift partner while watching the children swim, but he’s silent as he watches with a hand squishing his cheek, deep in thought. His shift partner looks so bored out of their mind that when you tap their shoulder, they don’t even bother looking to see who is replacing them before running to the lounge. He turns when you’ve settled and his eyes grow impressively round.
“You came back?”
You look out to watch a mother sitting at the edge of the pool dunk her baby’s feet in the water. “I needed to talk to you. Or I guess listen and then talk.”
“So...you’ll let me explain?” Incredulity making his words come out slowly.
“Yes. But you should know that, uh, your mom told my mom some stuff. And my mom told me. And then Jin from the swim team told me some stuff.”
“How much do you know?”
“Just the vague things. I heard you had a hard time at the dance academy and that kind of sparked everything.”
“I should still probably start from the beginning, though.” You nod.
“I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to continue dance, but I didn’t want to leave all the people I met behind just because the school was willing to pay for my tuition. My mom thought it would be big and they convinced me that I could still have friends, while practicing, so I said okay.
But it turned out to be a boarding school thing, so I never got to see anyone from home and when I got there, the instructors treated me special. None of the students there liked that. If I’m being honest, they kicked the shit out of me a few times. And when they weren’t doing that they were putting nails in my dance shoes or locking me in supply closets and the teachers just wanted me to ‘use the pain to power my dancing’. My parents only found out because I started dropping weight really fast and wasn’t sleeping enough to be able to make it through the daily practices without fainting. Of course they were mad, but they also thought it was something that would eventually go away when the other kids grew up a little. They thought that it would stop when the high school program begun, but no 12 year-old getting bullied is that patient. I made them a promise that I would wait until the middle school program ended and then I would decide. But it just got worse as time passed.”
“Hoseok,” your voice breaks and you realize tears have been threatening to roll down your cheeks without even realizing, “I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I couldn’t have been that brave when I was 12.”
“Yeah, well, it was all thanks to you. I kept thinking that if I kept dancing, maybe I could get famous and come see you and make you proud. But obviously I didn’t make it that far.”
He gives you a bitter smile that’s so hollow and empty, you almost don’t recognize him. It’s then that you realize every smile he’d given you before this one was genuine. Even the ones he gave you when you when he was bothering you in school.
“W-what happened after the program ended?” It takes a great deal of effort to drag your eyes off his face and go back to looking after the swimmers, but you have no choice. Remembering that you’re at work, you wipe your arm across your eyes quickly so you can see clearly.
“I’d changed, I guess. I think if I stayed any longer I would be a completely different person. I got really dark and kind of mean. Sometimes I would surprise myself with the thoughts I would have, even at that age. Even when it was towards people who had done me wrong.”
“Is that why you started hanging out with those guys?”
He sighs, not proud of himself at the moment. “Yeah. I knew that high school would be just as hard for me if I came back with open wounds, so to speak. But I couldn’t stay and just keep rotting away. So I made myself a compromise. I would do what it took to get protection so I could eventually get better and not need it anymore. I figured...what better way to do that than to basically get myself a security team? I knew no one would mess with me if I could just find a way into that group.”
“I was wondering about that, to be honest. It didn’t make sense that did a kid like you would fall in with kids like them. Like even after all you went through, you still weren’t a bully like them.”
“Well, they told me that I would have to prove to them that I had the balls to be in the group. They said it had to be big. The first thing that came to mind was causing a disruption of some sort.  At an important place.”
“A place like the center stage of the annual new student assembly,” you whisper as the pieces of the puzzle connect. Anger automatically rises at the memory of the day, but you clamp down on it with a few careful breaths. He senses your automatic reaction and winces.
“I hope you know I’m not telling you all of this so you feel guilty, like you have to forgive me. If it makes you feel any better. I’ve never stopped hating myself for that day.”
You smile darkly. “That doesn’t really make me feel better. But tell me about it anyway.”
“When they realized I would be on stage that year, they wanted me to flip a girl’s uniform skirt while I was up there to prove that I could be one of them. I hated the idea. I couldn’t even fathom doing it but I said yes at the start because they wouldn’t budge on the idea.”
“That...makes sense. Why me, though?”
“It wasn’t logical. I didn’t think you would be up on stage, and when I saw you looking at me, I thought maybe it was worth a shot using you instead of some random girl. Somehow it seemed better to do it to someone I knew than with a stranger.”
“You’re right. Doesn’t sound logical at all,” your tone holds almost palpable annoyance. “But I can see why that would make sense when you’re stressed and 14. I guess.”
“But that’s also why I couldn’t go through with the whole skirt flipping thing once I realized it had to be you. I couldn’t do that either. I still remember how in fourth grade you would cried every time the teacher called on you and you didn’t have the answer. You hate being the center of attention.”
You hum, neither in agreement nor in disagreement. You’re not quite ready to speak as you consider the situation from his point of view.
“It was a huge risk. Both not pulling the whole prank and pulling the prank, but it was just enough that they let it slide and let me in. I figured that maybe I could explain it away to you right after, but I couldn’t find you.”
“That’s because I was in the bathroom. Crying my eyes out.”
“God. I’m so sorry. You have to at least know that.”
“No, I know you are.”
“I thought about laying low for a while and giving you some time to cool off, but then we had so many classes together. And I was still planning on giving you some space then, but I—” he trails off.
“Then you what?”
“Then I saw you up close for the first time in two years and I just couldn’t stay away,” he says quietly.
“Oh, come on. Aren’t you laying it on a little thick?” You roll your eyes and sneer, ignoring the way your heartbeat picked up at the tortured rasp in his words.
“I mean it!” He turns in his seat to you but you nod your head at the pool and then he’s turning back sheepishly. “The only reason I got through middle school was because I thought about seeing my best friend every day. It had been two years and I was so curious about you and how you’d changed. And I remember thinking how pretty you were. I felt like I was going crazy.”
“You should have just left me alone. I’m sure I would have gotten over it after a few days if you gave me some space and we could have talked civilly. Could have avoided all of…this,” you gesture with your hands to the tense air between you.
“I realized that a little too late, I think. When you didn’t want to talk to me—which was completely understandable and I deserved it—I was worried you hated me. So I thought that if I just acted like we were 12 again and everything was normal, maybe it would go back to being normal. I guess even though I hadn’t changed too much I did get really selfish.”
Part of you agrees that it was kind of selfish for Hoseok not to give you the space you needed. But another part of you thinks back to all the times he ‘bothered’ you and you have to ask yourself if you really minded it.
“Hoseok, I,” you lower your head so you don’t have to face his piercing gaze, “owe you an apology as well.”
“For what?”
“For snapping at you. Not the first few times,” you amend. “Not when the embarrassment was still fresh. But after those first few days passed and I was still angry. I wasn’t angry about the assembly then. I was angry because I wanted you to tell me sorry and why you would pull such a stupid prank on me. I think it was the waiting that made me resent you. Granted, I was waiting for an explanation you decided you didn’t want to give me in the end. An explanation that you owed me.”  
“I get that,” he says quietly. “Look, I was stupid not to realize you didn’t want to talk around it.”
“It’s not all your fault. If I had just told you that I wanted to talk it, things probably wouldn’t have gotten bad like they did. I shouldn’t have shut you out.”
Your throat feels tight at the end of your confession as you think of all the times you must have unknowingly broken his young heart. Every time you’d denied him when he tried to carry your books. Or walk with you to your locker, to swim practice, to wait for your dad to pick you up at the end of the day. He still attempted all those things, but he did it with you turning to snap at him for doing them every step of the way. How he managed to smile brightly every morning is still a mystery to you. The good thing is that now your chest feels more open and light than it has in years. It feels good to finally understand everything and not hide your frustration. He must sense the new lightness because when he laughs this time its full of mirth, no bitterness weighing it down. You’re secretly grateful his laugh is still the low hiccuping sound it was when you were children.
“Hell, if you’d told me that you wanted the moon, I would have given it to you. If it would bring you—my friend back to me.”
Clearly, all the issues hadn’t been addressed just yet. There was still the fact that he developed a crush on you despite all your snapping during those four years. You feel awkward again, but now its because you don’t know how to address his old feelings for you. It would be a shame to let that fester between you as well, so you go straight for the jugular.
“What about the day—”
“In the cafeteria?” You nod.
He’s about to hunker down and explain when a two year old whose mother signed them in about an hour ago waddles up to your chairs wordlessly. You move to get up and try and guess which person to call from the sign in sheet but Hoseok simply scoops the child up and plops them in his lap before bouncing a foot so the child bounces with it. The kid laughs and claps, sprinkling some of the pool water dripping off them onto your arm. Despite the heavy conversation, the high, bubbly sound has both of you smiling on command. He removes his sunglasses and gives them to the child to play with.
“I was telling the truth. I knew you were trying to call my bluff, but I was being honest because it had been eating at me. Plus, I was mad, you know?”
“Why?”
“Because I knew you hated me. But I just—I couldn’t find it in myself to leave you alone at that point. And I knew. I knew you weren’t mad anymore about the assembly. I mean it had been years and I knew you didn’t care about it at that point.”
“Were you mad because I didn’t like you back?”
“No…I really don’t think so. I think I was just mad because you were becoming more and more amazing every day and I just sat there and watched. I couldn’t—couldn’t grow with you. You were pretty and athletic and studious and nice… when you wanted to be.”
You chuckle and let yourself look at him for a brief moment. He’s smiling at the child who has now decided to stand in his lap. Hoseok’s orange hair baffles the baby and a chubby hand goes to grab at the strands out of curiosity. He looks handsome, you can’t deny it.
In another timeline, in some alternate universe, maybe he could be your best friend and boyfriend today. Maybe seeing him interact with the little kids would have you blushing and thinking about a not too distant future together. Maybe you would be trying to earn money to save up for an apartment together in the city. Maybe this would be a regular day for the two of you and after work he would take you out to dinner and you’d buy him ice cream afterwards and then maybe after that you would…If it weren’t for everything that happened maybe you would…you would.
“What’s wrong?” Concern mars his delicate features before he looks over the child to see if the problem lies with them.
“Nothing! I was just thinking. I’m kind of ready for all this to be old news.”
His smile is slow and warm, but subdued. “You’re not just saying that because my stupid crush made you feel awkward right? It’s okay if it did. I don’t expect anything from you. I know you don’t like me like that.”
A protest rises in your throat, but you clamp it down before it can leave you. You’re not sure what you’re protesting.
“No. I just want to start over again,” you say after a beat.
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You go home that day with a $40 dollar tip that technically wasn’t even intended for you.
Almost as soon as you both called for a truce in your near decade war, the child in Hoseok’s arms quickly started crying after realizing their mother was nowhere to be found. You deftly swept them into your arms and rocked them around the pool for the rest of your 90 minute shift, letting them whine quietly into your neck until they dozed off. While Hoseok herded the rest of the children and a few mothers out of the kiddie area, you managed to get the child to tell your their full name so you could narrow down the list of parents to call. Eventually you found the right person and handed the child back to Hoseok so he could distract them further by drawing shapes on his belly with sunscreen. The child’s mother came soon after you hung up and pulled out her wallet as soon as she saw Hoseok playing with her child. He thanked her for the tip and, once she left, went and curled the bills into the palm of your hand, saying “That was all you”.
The day closes off quietly. You pack up your things and go to clock out in the lounge, only to find no one else looks like they’re leaving despite the fact that both pools had closed 20 minutes prior. When you ask what everyone else’s plans are, Stella informs you that the staff often go to visit the people working in the kitchen to get a free meal in exchange for keeping the pool open for an hour after all the club members left. It was a nice little arrangement that took place every day during the summer.
“You’ll come, right? It’s free food directly from the chef and his team,” Stella says as she locks her cubicle office.
“I don’t know. Aren’t they sick of cooking after doing it all day?”
She huffs, “They cook after the last customer leaves anyway so they can eat too. It’s not that much trouble to cook for us. Especially when they get to take a swim after being on their feet all day.”
Hoseok steps behind you as people begin to file out of the lounge and head to the club restaurant. “You’re not avoiding me, are you? I thought we were friends again,” he teases good-naturedly.
“Of course not! I meant what I said, I just…” He looks down at you thoughtfully when you trail off. “My parents are probably waiting up for me, you know. They wanna know how my first day went and all that.” You say your goodbyes to everyone before heading back to the car knowing that your parents will be out late seeing a movie.
The next morning, you get there before Hoseok, but you have a key to open the gate. So you get ahead on getting the ropes set out on both pools. To kill the time still left before the kiddie pool opens, you try to remember the combination to your employee locker so you can try on the company suit you ordered. It fits well, and the red will go nicely with your skin as the summer progresses and your tan deepens. You do a little spin for the lifeguards laying around the lounge and they humor you and clap sleepily. Stella gives you a thumbs up, busy on the phone in her cubicle as she always is.
Boredom compels you to go and sit in your seat early. With the extra time still left you put on sunscreen. Very carefully. You put on a visor, then decide you don’t want to deal with it if it gets wet by chance. Then you put it back on again because why not. You’re starting to worry that you’ll have to do the shift on your own when Hoseok stumbles in with a few parents coming to sign their kids in to the pool.
“Sorry,” he throws himself into his seat.
An apologetic frown twists his mouth, but the plushness of his pout goes unnoticed because you’re focused on the smear of white near the hinge of his jaw. You reach out on instinct to wipe it off, but stop midway and gesture to it instead, reeling your hand back in slowly. He wipes at it roughly.
“Why were you late?”
“Got in a fight with my mom last night. She took the car keys from me so I had to take the bus here. Were you waiting out here long?”
“Kind of, yeah.”
He grimaces guiltily and looks up at the sky directly because there’s no nice, big beach umbrella to shield your heads from the heat like there is for the guards at the adult pool.
“Geez. That must have sucked in this heat.”
“Not really. The sun’s not at its strongest yet. Maybe in a few hours I’ll get mad at you,” you joke.
“Promise?”
“Nah. You thought I was mean in high school? You better hope you don’t want to see me mad now. Completely different animal.”
“I don’t know,” he drawls, a fox-like grin coming out. “I think, if anything, I might have developed a taste for it.”
“Eyes on the pool, horndog .” The banter elicits a small smile from you. It’s only small because you’re working to contain it. You can’t believe how easy it is to be around him when you’re not at each other’s throats.
The day passes by quickly in companionable silence until around noon, when the heat gets almost unbearable. Hoseok suggests then that you move to sit in the actual pool and watch from there. If it’s really just an excuse to watch your red-clad figure move in its entirety for a brief second, you can’t tell. The next string of shifts is spent with both of you seated in adjacent corners to let the water lap at you and calm your heated skin. Occasionally a child will make their way over to one of you and you’ll play with them for a bit until they get bored or their parents return. The sight of the babies climbing Hoseok to grab little fistfuls of wet, orange hair is heart warming. And the way he scoops them up to blow raspberries against their round cheeks makes something clench in your gut a little, too intense to be the fluttering wings of nervous butterflies. As a distraction you let one curious child attempt to chew on the whistle around your neck. Not like you’ll be using it anyway.
“You gonna duck out again and skip dinner today, too?”
His question comes out of nowhere and startles you from watching a young girl of around 4 years old try to doggie paddle on her back.
“I don’t know. I just feel like I don’t know anyone enough to be very good company while I’m there.”
“You don’t have to be a hostess, you can just sit there and eat.”
“But then it looks like I just came there for the food. I don’t want to seem antisocial.”
“You kind of are, though.”
“Yeah, but I don’t need the others to know.”
“You could just talk to me, you know. I mean…it would make you look like you’re there for the social activities in addition to the food. And it would make sense if you talked mainly with me since we’re shift partners and have a, uh, history.”
“I guess when you put it like that I don’t have much of a choice.” You’re not quite sulking, but the little waves you’re making with your hands under the water nearly knock a toddler over.
“No, you don’t. Guess you’re stuck with me.”
“Guess so.”
Once the sun sets, you get out of the pool first, worried that you’ll have permanently pruny fingers and toes if you sit there any longer. You don’t bother toweling off and instead get to work on stuffing the tips you made in the pocket of your hoodie. Hoseok locks the pool from the inside and jogs to catch up with you as you make your way to the gathering of lifeguards and Stella.
The interior of the country club dining room is incredibly lavish and it feels like a crime to walk on the shining wood of the polished floors with some drugstore flip flops you bought and used as shower shoes for the last four years. There’s even a table that’s been freshly cleaned and set that the kitchen staff has laid out for you. A lanky boy who apparently goes by the name of Namjoon comes around to take everyone’s orders and you stiffen when you realize you don’t know the menu.
“What are you getting,” you hiss nearly into Hoseok’s armpit as you try to remain calm. Namjoon is leisurely taking people’s orders and chatting people up, but you want to be ready when he gets to your end of the table.
“I’m getting the pork cutlets,” he whispers back, to which you hum thoughtfully. Meat seemed like a basic dish to get at such a fine establishment. He seemed to sense your hesitation. “You might like their shrimp tacos. Still like seafood, right?”
“Y-yeah, I do.” He smiles to himself, proud that he still remembers all these little things about you. “I don’t know which to get. Shit.”
He chuckles at your frantic tone. “There’s no need to panic. I’lll let you have some of mine if you feel like you’re missing out.”
“Thanks,” you let out a sigh, head slumping to the side and nudging his arm lightly in the process.
You tell yourself that if it weren’t for the way the sun zapped your energy you would be sitting up properly. And you do once Namjoon comes around to your end of the table. You stutter out that you’d like the shrimp tacos and when he responds that there’s only trout left, you panic and say that’s fine instead of getting something you know will be good. Like pork cutlets.
“Calm down, I can feel you overthinking things from there,” he whispers after Namjoon returns to the kitchen with the table’s orders.
“Screw you. I’m not overthinking.” You burrow further into your artfully upholstered chair and look away from him.
He fixes you with a stare that tells you he doesn’t believe that lie for a second. “Whatever. Have a drink and stop stressing.”
You’re grateful as the person on your right offers to fill your cup with wine. It’s red wine, but you can’t complain because its’ free and you’re not really drinking much anyway seeing as you’re still in possession of your dad’s car as a means of getting home. However, due to unforeseen circumstances—that is due to the fact that you actually don’t like trout—you follow the half taco you eat with more wine to fill your stomach. Hoseok raises an eyebrow at your wine consumption, but doesn’t say anything as he carves out a healthy portion of one of his cutlets and plops it onto your plate. He follows it with generous spoonfuls of the rice and vegetables that came along with his dish to make sure your stomach is lined with a barrier if you drink more. And much to both his and your chagrin, you do drink more wine.
Once everyone has finished eating, you pour out of your seat to follow the kitchen staff and lifeguards out to the pool once more. Before you came in, there was still light in the sky that came from the last strong rays of setting sun, bathing everything in pink and orange. Now, the sun has set and everything is bathed in blue; even the lights lining the inside of the larger pool that are usually reserved for night events thrown by the country club glow a soft, pale blue.
 Although you’re tipsy, you’re still somewhat practical, so you opt to sit by a well-lit corner and dip your feet in the water. It’s too cold and you’re too out of it to be able to swim safely or comfortably. For the few moments that you’re alone, you find peace in watching the chefs and waitstaff who’ve now changed into their swim attire frolic in the water. Someone brought a beachball and it’s being bounced around the pool. It takes all of your concentration and hand/eye coordination but you manage to give a successful volleyball inspired hit and keep the ball’s momentum. Hoseok’s feet appear next to you a beat later.
“Did you see that? That was a good spike, right?” You look up at him standing next to you. “You look like the pillsbury dough boy from this angle,” you say, prompting him to sit down.
“Is that something you’re into?” He smiles at your profile. The dim lighting does wonders for your features and he’s secretly glad he gets to see you in what he thinks may be a rare state.
“I like bread, but not that much.” He snorts at your joke.
You turn to look at him as best you can. This is the first time in a short while that you’ve gotten to really take a good look at him since you’re whole job is about looking away from him and at the children in the kiddie pool. If you squint, you can kind of see what he used to look like still there, under the surface. His cheeks were a bit rounder and softer, even when you were seniors in high school and technically ‘adults’. His hair was different too. For the majority of high school it was dark and laid flat against his foreheard. While it didn’t look bad, it didn’t do anything to flatter his face. It wasn’t until the end when he started experimenting with product and color. Even when you were younger and hated him, you were still able to appreciate the day he came into class during one winter morning of junior year with it parted and swooped messily off his forehead and dyed a warm brown with golden highlights. You and 30 other classmates had appreciated that day very much. It suited him and the brooding badboy thing he had going on.
“Thanks,” he says, surprise coloring his voice.
“W-what?”
“I didn’t know you liked the brown so much.”
Sober-you would have been having a conniption at the idea that Hoseok might get even the slightest whiff of your teeny-tiny attraction for him. The wine running in your veins has you relaxed enough to just concede the compliment to him, but steer the subject away from you.
“What made you dye it red?”
“Ehh, it was just a kind of coverup for a bad blond dye job my ex gave me last year.”
“Ah, I see.”
“Why? Do you think I should I dye it brown again?” You pause and look him over, trying to imagine the color from before on him now.
“No. The way you are now is fine.”
Your comment makes him sit back, a little stunned. When he looks back at you, you’re eyes are drifting closed. He’s pretty sure you drove yourself, so he lifts your arm and helps you stand up before hobbling over to Stella to let her know that he’s going to take you home.
“Alright,” she says, clearly enjoying her game of Marco Polo with the head chef. “But you had better get her home in a condition no worse than the one she’s in right now. And don’t think I won’t ask her tomorrow what she remembers happening after she left here, Jung.”
All he can do is salute her as your head lolls forward and you try to go back to being less upright.
Taking you home is more effort than he thought it would be. First, it takes a while to get you awake again so he can tell you he’s taking you home and ask you where your stuff is. He manages to get your locker open but only after waking you several times to get each number of the combination because you were too sleepy to give it to him in full. Then, he has to get you in the car without looking like he’s kidnapping you because at that point he’s carrying your dead weight. Just heaving you over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry would be easier, but he’s worried you’ll throw up down his back. Once you’re in the car, the hardest part is over. From there it’s just pestering you again to get your seatbelt on and have you remind him of your parents’ address. Another bolt of pride shoots through him when you sleepily mumble the street and house number and it’s what he thought. After that it’s pretty smooth sailing. He finds your house with ease, the front light illuminating the number and the doorway.
Your mother comes to the door, father wandering in behind her to see why you’re coming in so late. When they see a pair of silhouettes walk across the lawn and up to the door, they quickly come out to see what’s going on. Your dad realizes you’re the one slumped over and moves quickly to take you off the stranger’s arm. Soon he realizes that the stranger is Jung Hoseok, the boy his only child used to play with.
“Do I want to know what happened?”
“Nothing bad. There’s just dinner for the lifeguards after the pool closes everyday and I think she filled up on wine instead of her food. I worried about her so I just drove her home. I hope that’s okay.”
“Well, it’s not ideal, but I’m glad it was you and not someone with an ulterior motive,” your father says with a pointed look at him.
Your mother holds the door open and looks on in sympathy at your clammy, sleepy face and ushers your father inside before ushering Hoseok in as well. As much as he would like to be able to carry you up the stairs to your bedroom like he used to when you were small, your father’s back can’t handle that much rigor and he opts for trying to lay you out onto the couch. He accidentally drops you on your face, but it’s not a steep drop and the cushions break your fall, so he just makes sure you’re facing to the side with a foot on the floor to keep you from rolling off and hurting yourself or choking on your vomit. He moves into the kitchen to find his wife pouring Hoseok a glass of water.
“I can’t thank you enough for bringing our baby home safely, Hoseok. You know, I was just thinking about you yesterday.”
“Is that so?” He politely sips at the water, very uncomfortable.
“Yes. I saw your mother recently. We were talking about how both of our nests have stopped being empty for the summer,” she laughs.
“Yeah, she told me she saw you.”
“It’s been a while, son,” your father says as he goes to stand next to your mother. Both of them pin Hoseok with stares filled with different emotions.
“Oh, it really has. You’re grown into such a handsome man. I suppose it makes sense, since you were such a beautiful boy.” All he can do is chuckle awkwardly before downing the last bit of water.
“Well, I better get going. I have to get up early to make it to the pool on time. It was nice to see you all.”
“It was nice to see you too, sweetie.” Your mother hands your father the car keys. “Drive Hosoek home, honey?”
“Sure.”
“It’s really no trouble, I was just gonna walk. I don’t live that far away.” His eyes widen at the thought of having to spend more making awkward small-talk with your parents and no way of escaping.
“Well, I wouldn’t want you to lose any more sleep than you already have. I’ll drive you and you can do us a favor and swing by and pick up our baby, alright? She probably won’t be fit to drive that day, and it’ll be an opportunity for me to drive my wife to her doctor’s appointment.”
He stutters a bit, looking for a way out that won’t offend anyone, before giving up. “Okay. Thank you, sir.”
“No problem, son.”
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To say that the morning following Hoseok driving you home is the worst mornings of your life is probably an exaggeration, but it’s most likely a slight one. First, you had wake up with a bit of a hangover, which wouldn’t be so bad if you could get more time to sleep it off. Instead, you’re forced to roll off the bed at the sound of your alarm and shower. Your stomach is killing you, but you know you can’t skip breakfast and still make it through a whole day of sitting in the sun. The worst part of the morning by far is dragging yourself downstairs only to find Hoseok drinking coffee with your mother at the kitchen table.
His eyes brighten at the sight of you shuffling down the stairs looking half dead, but he’d much rather deal with you and your hangover than sit there and listen to your mom make thinly veiled attempts at asking him if he’d confessed to you yet. Your mother ushers both of you out the door with a fruit cup and spoon and you barely have any time to process the situation.
Five minutes into the drive to the pool is enough time for the cool early morning air and periwinkle skyline for you to wake up and take back the reigns from your lizard brain.
“Why were you in my house?” You poke a soft piece of syrup covered peach with your spoon and lay back in your seat. Mrs. Jung’s car is newer than your father’s so you don’t have to wind a crank to get the seat to recline.
“Do you remember last night?”
“Of course, I do.”
“Well, that’s why.” You pout for a minute, embarrassed that Hoseok saw you in such a state even though you were only a little past tipsy.
“Did my parents put you up to this?”
“Absolutely. As much as I’d like to be able to get you to voluntarily ride around with me, it’s not worth having your dad drive me home and spending the morning with your mom.�� You snort at his candid tone. “No offense to your parents. They’re wonderful people.”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. What did my mom say to you?”
“Nothing much. She asked me how college was and if I had a job lined up. Asked me if I had a girlfriend. Asked me if you had a secret boyfriend. Then asked me why I hadn’t asked you out yet. You know. The usual.”
“Are you serious?” The pieces of fruit you had been half-heartedly munching on and get stuck in your windpipe. It takes a couple firm pats on the back from Hoseok but soon you’re eyes stop watering and you are able to look at him gravely. “Did she really ask you that?”
“She did,” he smiles self-deprecatingly, but it’s still a warm smile.
“W-what did you tell her?” At the sound of your quiet inquiry his expression sombers up quickly.
“Don’t worry. I just told her I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“I’m not uncomfortable, though.”
“Well, I’m sure you would be if I was chasing you around like I used to.”
“Things are different now,” is all you can say without your face heating up too much.
He chances a look at you and the way you fiddle with your hoodie reminds him of the way you played with the hem of your school uniform whenever you were talking with guys you liked. After a few deep breaths, he decides to take a risk. The little booth where the parking lot managers sits to monitor employee traffic is visible at the end of the street once Hoseok drives past the country club gates. He drives straight past the attendant because he has an employee sticker on his car window. There’s a vacant spot in the far corner of the lot that he takes before parking the car so he can turn to face you.
“How are things different?”
You find it hard not to feel warm under Hoseok’s stare. Though it’s not the first time you’ve been the object of his hungry gaze, all the previous times were more diluted because he was just a young boy searching for just ounce of the comfort he once found in you as his childhood best friend. Those were the days where you were mad at him and could easily deflect the power of his stare with your own anger. Now, though, the air has been cleared, the slate wiped clean. He’s no longer a 14 year-old boy hoping you’ll forgive him. He’s 23 and wants nothing more than to strip you of all your pretenses and get as close to you as possible simply because he wants to be able to feel all you can offer and give you all you’ll accept.
When you can’t meet his eyes or answer him, he squares his jaw and leans into your space. He’s tired of this game of cat and mouse. Maybe it’s because he couldn’t sit back and pretend he didn’t still feel anything for you. Maybe it’s because he knows that in this situation he’s not really a cat or a mouse. He feels more like a beast with a strange amount of patience. But everyone knows patience has to run out sometime. Slowly, he brings a gentle hand to your chin and lifts your gaze towards his.
“Why are things different now?”
“Because…you don’t make me uncomfortable anymore,” you say, knowing that you’re being overly cowardly and vague.
He knows the desperation is clear in his voice, but he really thinks he’s been correctly reading the room and the way you look at him when you think he can’t see. He just wants confirmation. “Why are you comfortable now?”
“It’s not that I’m exactly comfortable with you,” you trail off looking for the right phrase. “I still feel like my whole body is tensed up when I’m around you.”
“Oh,” he says, trying to swallow down the sudden wave of disappointment.
“But I like it.”
His head snaps up and suddenly he’s laughing. It sounds a bit too high and crazed to be anything other than manic laughter. You watch his shoulders shake and his hands rake through his hair before he sighs and turns to smile at you.
“Can I kiss you,” he blurts out. The surprised look on your face must be comical because he laughs more naturally this time before leaning over the center console to pin you to your seat with a softer, molten look. “Can I?”
Somewhere in the back of your head, a part of you wonders if kissing in the car is even allowed before 10 am, but you figure that the only way to know is to try. You hum affirmatively, not trusting your voice, but he shakes his head at you and retracts a little.
“No. I want to hear you say it.”
“Yes. Are you happy now,” you huff. He rewards your half-effort with a warm hand wrapping around the nape of your neck, but doesn’t move any closer.
“‘Yes’ what?” His smile is dark and teasing. Almost mean.
“For fuck’s sake, Jung, just kiss me.” It’s too early for teasing and your hands come up to scrunch in the fabric of the front of his t-shirt like they have a mind of their own.
“There’s my girl,” he whispers before swooping in and crushing his lips to yours.
Kissing Jung Hoseok is not at all like you pictured it. Then again, you’d spent the last 8 years pushing away the mere possibility that it could happen, so it’s not surprising that he passes all your expectations given that you had none. That’s not to say that your standards are super low and that he’s just a mediocre kisser, because he’s most certainly not. The moment your eyes close, his lips caress yours slowly and firmly. He opens your mouth with a few well-timed nips to your lower lip followed, wetting your entrance with a subtle swipes of his tongue. As he eases you open, your hands move to feel his torso and map out the planes and dips of his defined arms and toned chest. The hot glide of his tongue against yours has you reaching up to card your fingers through his hair. It feels slightly damp with the shower he must have taken before coming to pick you up and you scrape your nails lightly against his scalp as you comb through the russet waves. He groans into your mouth and presses forward, his nose brushing your cheek as he turns his head to kiss you more deeply. From there, you can’t stop your hands from roaming up his arms, his sides, his back. Eventually you settle on wrapping your arms around his neck and letting one hand wriggle under the collar of his shirt so you can rest your palm against the smooth skin of his back.
The feeling of your hand on his bare skin feels hot like a brand and pushes him to work harder to draw moans from you. Soft sounds of breathing and your lips meeting again and again fill the car. The cooler temperature of the outside morning air means that the car starts to fog up quickly. His free arm doesn’t stop moving. First he wraps it around your waist, then strokes your thigh before digging his fingers into the meat of it. Finally he settles on cupping your face with both hands to bring you impossibly closer as he ravishes your mouth. You let out a long breath that ends in a hitch when he decides to test out sucking kisses onto the column of your neck. His name leaves your mouth in a breathy sigh and suddenly he’s cursing and pulling back.
He looks fucked out with his hair a coppery mess from your fingers running through it, shiny, swollen lips, and a dreamy expression on his face. You drink in the picturesque curves of his profile, especially admiring the slope of his boyish smile as he grins to himself with his chest heaving. The neon numbers on the digital clock in the dashboard let you know that you’re 10 minutes behind schedule to opening up the kiddie pool.
“We’re late,” you mumble when you’ve caught your breath and the windshield isn’t so foggy anymore.
“Yeah, sorry about that. Listen, why don’t you, uh, go in first, okay?”
He’s still smiling but he’s hunching over himself a little strangely, hands resting unnaturally splayed out in his lap. You’re suspicious, but nod and take your bag with you out the car to go get ready for the start of the shift. Stella and the other lifeguards are standing by the tiny coffee machine in the lounge when you come in, your hair is still a bit of a mess. Stella gives you a knowing smile after giving you a once over.
“Glad to have you back,” her voice lilts and a couple people sticker.
“Uh, what do you mean? I didn’t go anywhere.” Trying not to not look guilty proves difficult when you can’t even manage a normal smile and can only give something that’s 80% teeth.
“Easy, lightweight,” one guard says, “We just didn’t think you’d make it here after how gone you were yesterday. Much less on time for your morning set-up.”
“I’m not a lightweight, I just didn’t end up eating any of my dinner,” you sniff, but relax the set of your shoulders a bit once you realize they’re snickering about your tipsy antics from the night before and not your amorous behavior in the parking lot just now.
Hoseok shows up while you’re in the middle of setup and doesn’t say much as he helps you with the rest of it. The kiddie pool opens like it normally does at 8am and young swimmers trickle in. Some more frequent guests waddle over to your chairs to show off their new floaties or to ask if you live at the pool. Your shift partner is still unnervingly quiet for the first few hours, not even complaining when the temperature steadily increases to an annoying high. He still doesn’t say anything as you move your safety equipment to the edge of the pool so you can both dip into the shallow water for relief. Quickly, you realize that you’re rather fond of his talkative nature and snap as soon as the toddler that was repeatedly jumping into his arms gets picked up by the last parent and you can break for lunch. You say a silent goodbye to your pride and finally turn to him once the gate to the kiddie pool is closed.
“It’s really warm, huh?”
His neutral expression breaks into a private smile to himself. “Yeah, I suppose it is. You’re gonna eat lunch right?”
“Yeah,” you say, still frowning at his short answers as you move to get up from the pool wall.
“Don’t worry, I’ll get yours too. We can just eat out here.”
You nod for lack of anything better to say. When he comes back with one sac you remember that you didn’t pack a lunch for yourself like you normally would the night before work. He sits next to you and opens his lunchbox silently.
“I forgot to bring a lunch. I’m gonna head to the tip jar and then run to the vending machine really quick.”
“No need,” he says, “Your mom packed this for you this morning and gave it to me.”
He hands you a plastic bag out of his own larger container before opening a hand-made sandwich and chowing down. You open the bag cautiously, not expecting the normal salad that you pack yourself usually. Instead, you find something that may be exactly the same lunch she used to pack you when you were in elementary school.
“I guess this is punishment for getting too drunk to take myself home,” you mutter down at the peanut butter and jelly sandwich and carrot sticks.
He peers into your bag.“What’s wrong with carrot sticks,” he pouts and holds his own container of carrot sticks and hummus.
“At least you had the decency to pack hummus. She thinks I still eat the same way I did when I was 8.”
“I’ll trade you for your fruit punch.”
“What are you offering,” you give him the side-eye of a seasoned businesswoman.
“Just your favorite,” he shrugs, pulling out a small cardboard carton of chocolate milk. Even at your age, you still love chocolate milk, though you don’t indulge in it often. “Bet you haven’t seen this since we were kids.”
You nod frantically, remembering how you used to drink it whenever you could if there wasn’t a race that day. “Deal.” you say, tossing the tiny bottle of fruit punch and snatching the milk like he might not keep his promise.
The two of you give each other a look and break down into laughter at your childish behavior.
“Just like old times.” Your voice and eyes are soft as you watch him open the fruit punch with a little difficulty. Huffing, you nudge his hands out of the way before snapping the no-spill opening so he can drink from it with one hand.
“Almost.” He inches his face toward yours until you can almost count his eyelashes. His hand comes to run up your arm and lay on your shoulder blade, trying to get you closer.
You meet him halfway, turning a bit awkwardly at the waist so you can wrap your arms around him. If you’re being honest, you were worried that he was being so quiet because he regretted kissing you in the car and was trying to think of a way to take it back. But it’s clear that’s not the case from the way he coaxes your lips open with his own so he can lick into your mouth with a slickness that has your face heating. The reminder that your coworkers could see you at any moment has you beginning to pull away, but he knows you too well to let you escape.
“No one’s gonna see,” he whispers against your mouth before going back in to work your lips. Your eyes flutter shut again and the worries seem to dissolve a little.
“What if they do, though?” Somehow one of your hands always makes it back to his hair and you give it a slight tug when he sucks lightly on your earlobe. “This is unprofessional.”
“Yeah, it is.” He grins but still pulls back after pressing a somewhat chaste kiss on your frowning lips once and then twice.
“I haven’t even touched my lunch and the break is almost over,” you mumble. “Good thing there’s dinner after the last shift.”
“Don’t get drunk again,” he tosses his head back at his joke and you can only glare at him as you steal some hummus.
The rest of the day goes by without a hitch. You and Hoseok manage to keep your hands off each other during dinner. And surprisingly during the ride he gives you home, which quickly becomes a daily routine. Your parents gave you a knowing look when you told them why you would no longer need to borrow the car to get to work, but they didn’t say anything. 
The summer passes by quickly and slowly. Quickly because you have fun talking with Hoseok and time seemingly passes by faster when he’s making you laugh or smile while he plays with the babies. Slowly because he still manages to find moments to get in your face and steal a few kisses that seem to halt time itself. It seems like you blinked and then there were only two more weeks left of work at the pool left.
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There’s about an hour before the pool closes and Hoseok has migrated over to a farther corner of the pool to engage little Jungkook, a pool regular who keeps gazing up at him with hero-worship in his eyes. You let yourself look over for a brief second before continuing your perusal of the other swimmers to make sure no one needs help. Sudden splashing gets your attention and Jungkook comes running into your field of view.
“What’s the matter? Did you drop your goggles again?” You let him take your hand, though you have to crouch so he can reach it.
“Lifeguard Hoseok is playing dead and it’s scary,” he looks up at you with big eyes and brings you to where Hoseok is managing to float on his back despite the low level of the pool water.
“Hoseok,” you put on an admonishing tone for Jungkook, “Are you playing dead and scaring the swimmers?”
He cracks an eye open at the sound of your voice and looks up at you. “Actually, I’m drowning. Please save me.” Jungkook watches him close his eyes again and stick out his tongue, imitating a body.
“He keeps doing that scary face. Is he dead?” Jungkook squeezes your hand and you kneel down so that you can look him in the eye.
“No, he’s just pretending.”
“Make him open his eyes, then.” You raise an eyebrow and he tacks on a ‘please, Ms. Lifeguard’.
“Hoseok,” you stage-whisper to appease Jungkook, who’s looking on with distress in his eyes, “You need to wake up. You’re making your friend here nervous about you.”
“Then you should save me so I can wake up. Right, Jungkook?”
“Y-yeah. Give him PPR to wake him up!”
“Yeah! Give me that sweet PPR, please.”
You roll your eyes. Clearly Hoseok is childish enough to know how to get actual children on his side. To make sure no funny business happens, you treat it like the training sessions you’ve attended and pinch his nose closed. His eyes crack open to glare at you but stay closed for the most part like a good faker. You lower your head and place a chaste kiss on Hoseok’s waiting mouth. He springs up and gasps like all the life force he lost has entered back into his body all at once. His hands come out to clutch you to him in a fierce hug.
“Thank you for saving me, Ms. Lifeguard.” He shouts into your hair, soaking your top half despite the fact that you’d managed to keep your hair dry all day until this point. “Look, Jungkook, she saved me.”
Jungkook is clearly smarter than Hosoek thinks and pouts at the two of you. “Hey! You weren’t really sleeping, you were just pretending so you could get a kiss!”
“How did you know,” your mouth drops open and a genuine laugh tumbles out. Jungkook attempts to cross his little arms but the floaties he’s wearing get in the way.
“Because my Dada always does it to trick my Papa when we go to the beach.”
“I’m sorry Hoseok tried to trick you, Jungkook. But, I hope that you’ll still listen when people tell you they’re hurting because it might be true next time.”
He nods and you reach up to ruffle his dark hair. He skips off to go play and you make sure no one is looking before you break the no-splashing rule and send a wave up at Hoseok’s face.
“What the hell was that?”
“What? I’m bored. I just wanted to play,” he pouts at you.
“Play later. We still have 45 minutes of work left.”
“Will you play with me,” he asks in your ear. You shiver a little at the feeling of his breath on your neck but push him away.
“Fine, but later. I’m not gonna get caught goofing off and lose this job. I really need it.”
“Did you not have a job lined up after school ended?” He sits down for real and adjusts his visor to shield his eyes.
“No. Do you?”
“Yeah. I’m start working at a JYP Banks city branch this fall.”
“Oh my god, ew. Were you an econ major?”
It’s hard to imagine Hoseok as one of the boys who used too much hair gel, smoked too much weed on the weekends, and wore suits to their business and math classes on your former campus.
“Yeah, why not? I’m good at math.”
“Since when,” your nose wrinkles.
“Since high school. It was one of the only classes I always had without you. So I actually ended up paying attention.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” he gently tweaks your side, “You weren’t there at the board with your too-small uniform skirt for me to stare at.”
“Too small? Those uniforms were specially ordered for each student, asshole.”
“That doesn’t mean anything if you were a late bloomer and got the measurements taken when you were 13 and built like a grade-schooler.”
Your mouth gapes open and there’s a lot to unpack in that statement. The fact that he called you out for being flat as a board at the end of middle school. The fact that he called you out for not suddenly having boobs and ass when you were 15 like everyone else. The fact that he had bee paying attention to you well before puberty hit you like a truck in senior year, unlike other guys.
“I’m not a stick now, though,” you say and sit up a bit straighter to confirm to yourself that no one would confuse you for a child with your figure now.
“Nope,” he agrees, “You’re certainly not.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Again with this?”
“We can’t all have the same metabolism that we’ve had since we were teenagers. You were skinny too, if I recall.”
“Yeah and there’s nothing wrong with that. But that old string-bean Hoseok is gone.” He’s half joking, half serious as he brings up a tanned arm to flex, showing off a surprising sized bicep. You reach out and squeeze the swell of firm muscle. “That’s gym and dance gains right there, baby.”
“You’re an idiot,” you toss over your shoulder fondly as the final few parents and children leave the pool.
The two of you putter around and clean up the pool so its ready for closing. Hoseok goes ahead while you stay back to make sure none of the kids left any precious toys or swim gear behind. When you enter the lounge, the last few lifeguards are heading out towards the restaurant employee entrance while Hoseok waves to them.
“You didn’t have to wait for me, you know.”
Carefully you turn the sticky lock on your locker, trying angrily to get it open so you can put your things away and go eat. One of the chefs told you the day before that the final shipment of mango for the summer was coming and you’d be damned if someone else took some of the portions they promised to save for you.
“You said you’d play with me,” his voice is low as he presses against you. You let him close your locker for you and turn to give him a placating kiss.
“What about food?” He presses wet kisses along the skin of your shoulder before sliding the strap of your suit down with his teeth. His hand runs a course  down to your ass. His fingers toy with the elastic hem of your one-piece, cheekily catching against the skin there underneath.
He lifts hooded eyes up to yours. “Are you hungry right now?”
“Maybe not now,” you say as you swipe your thumbs across his cheekbones, “But I would be by the time that they finished taking people’s orders. That’s not a super long time.”
“So maybe we should just get food later.” His tone is reasonable and the way he’s pressing against you is distracting. If you shift the right way, you can feel him through his shorts.
“Where are we even gonna go?”
“It turns out,” he takes you by the hand and leads you through the other exit in the lounge, “There isn’t a view of the adult pool from the windows in the dining area. We’re alone here.”
He hops into the water, dunking his head under before coming up right after. His hands slick back his hair and you’re suddenly disappointed that he only wanted to swim. You go in after him, electing to do a lap or two to stretch your limbs after hours in a chair. When you come back up he claps.
“Nice form,” he says as you paddle over.
“I’m missing mangos for this.”
“Don’t worry, I told them to save some for you. You’ve been talking about them all day.”
You beam at him, disappointment appeased now that you’re still going to get your fruit. He pats the wall of the shallow end of the pool.
“Come sit.”
You swim over and hoist yourself up on the edge. He wades up to the edge to rest his hands on your thighs. The smile on his face is wide and brilliant as he looks up at you and you can’t help but card your fingers through his hair. The red is fading and you’re a bit sad to see it go.
“Are you gonna dye it back again or are you gonna let it grow out for work?”
“Yeah, I think the red might have to go. But I might be able to do brown. Or even blond if it’s done well. What do you think,” he asks, laying his cheek on your knee.
“It’s up to you, I mean. I won’t even be there to see it, so you might as well do what’s best for the office.”
With the end of the summer nearing, what would happen between you two became a common topic of conversation. But the conversations never get too far because you still haven’t defined what it was that you are to each other. The idea of having split after all that you’ve been through, including everything before finding one another at the pool, makes your stomach feel cold and empty. This isn’t your average summer whirlwind and you both know that. But neither of you wants to be the one to end the fun.
“Who knows. You might be in the city for work. Or you could come down on the weekends. Or I could come up.” He looks up at you, eyes swimming in some emotion you can’t name. “I just don’t want to stop seeing you.”
“Can we not do this right now? It’s depressing and there’s still a little while left, anyway.”
“Okay.”
He nuzzles into the flesh of your thigh, mouthing against it even when your leg jumps up against the ticklish sensation. Leaning back, you watch him pepper your thighs with kisses in earnest. The higher up he moves, the slower they get until he’s only a few inches away from your core and your arms are protesting from holding yourself up so you can watch. You endure it because the sight of the faded auburn of his hair moving as he switches to the other knee and works his up is enticing in and of itself. His hands come to your hips and move you closer to the edge, his nose brushing against the hem of your suit.
“Here? Are you kidding me?”
“Why not?” His voice is muffled from where his mouth moves to suck a bruise high up on your inner thigh. “Don’t you think it’s a little fun? The idea that someone could see?”
“I think mini-golf is fun. Grocery shopping is also pretty—shit,” you lose your train of thought as he presses the flat of his tongue hard against the the crotch of your suit. Your thighs clamp shut on either side of him and you whip your head around to check your surroundings.
“Will you relax, please? The cleaning crew doesn’t come until after 9 and they’ll be in there for at least an hour.”
“But I smell like the pool.”
“I do too. Don’t worry, baby.” He sucks a kiss onto the apex of your thighs before looking up at you through dark lashes. “Is this okay?”
You stutter for a moment before steadying yourself once more and nodding. He uses one hand to creep up to the singular strap holding your suit up and slides it down to get access to your breasts. He kneads a globe in his hand before plucking your nipple and rolling it between his fingers. The other hand rubs at you over your suit with his thumb circling around what he hopes is your clit. Eventually the friction gets you swollen enough that he can better locate it. Dampness begins to pool at your center, forming a dark spot on your suit as you cant your hips up in time with the figure eights he rubs onto you. The wet material of your suit begins to bother you and you slide the top half down further, the evening air causing your nipples to pebble. With the suit now lax, he slides the crotch to the side and inhales deeply. The scent of chlorine is there, but he can still make out your natural scent underneath. Your arousal glistens subtly in the dim light and when he runs a finger through the slick to taste, you groan.
“What’s taking you so long? Put your face in it already.”
“You just want me to hurry up so we don’t get caught.”
“Maybe. But I want you to eat me out too.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
He dives in quickly, collecting all the arousal he can on his tongue. Licking from your entrance up to the top, he makes sure to hollow his cheeks, and sucks your clit into his mouth. Your leg kicks out to the side of him, splashing water up quietly. Pulling back with a smack, he maneuvers both your thighs over the broad expanse of his shoulders and moves in closer. He laughs when you whine for him puts his mouth back on you.
“Is it good so far,” he asks, carefully sliding a slender finger into you.
“Mmm, it’s good. Add another finger, I can handle it.” He adds another finger and scissors them after a beat.
“You wanna feel stretched, baby?” You bite you lip, arms quivering until you have to lie on your back. “I bet you’d rather take my dick, wouldn’t you?”
“Oh my god, I want it so bad.” He twitches and hardens further as he watches you reach down to fondle both your breasts roughly.
“You’d take my dick so well, I know it. I wish I could have you bouncing on me so I could play with your tits myself. But you keep playing with them and imagine those are my hands.”
“Hoseok,” you whine, “I need more. Need your mouth again too.”
Determined to make you cum hard, he adds a third finger and presses down on your pelvic floor before thrusting them into you over and over, his wrist twisting sinuously. Once you start squelching from a sudden onslaught of wetness, he assaults your clit again. With the body of his tongue, he licks shapes onto your core. A particularly hard flick of his tongue as you gasping out, back arching and pushing into his face. The change in angle causes his fingers to press harder into the spongey patch on your walls.
“Fuck, just like that. Don’t stop. Please!”
He crooks his fingers and grinds them into the spot as best he can while still scissoring his fingers so you feel full. You’re a sight to behold in front of him. Your legs part to reveal the your swollen and slick center. Your back arches beautifully and your breasts spill over your suit as you shudder through the orgasm he rips out of you. He withdraws his fingers carefully and marvels at the crystalline strands that stretch between his spread fingers. He sucks them into his mouth one by one with the other hand petting your thigh comfortingly.
“How do you feel about burgers?”
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Hoseok can’t stop staring at the dewy glow on your skin and his burger sits unwrapped but unbitten as he watches you pluck a curly fry from the pile in the center of the table. Your eyes seem brighter and while he supposes that having an orgasm does that to a person, but he can’t help the swell of pride that rises up when he thinks that he had something to do with it.
“Your food’s gonna get cold,” you pick up a fry and bring it to his lips. “Aren’t you hungry?”
His lip graze your fingers slightly when you feed him the fry. “I already ate, remember?” His wry grin makes your heart flutter a bit.
“Well, you need your strength.” When his forehead crinkles in confusion, you clarify, “For dessert.”
“Look if you want it, I’ll give it to you, baby.” 
It’s moments like these where he’s flexing in the middle of a diner and touching himself like he’s hot shit that you think it’s hard to tell if he’s being serious or not. Your phone rings, giving you an excuse to stop the show he’s giving the rest of the patrons as he grinds into the booth.
“Cool your jets, Hoseok, I have a phone call. Hello? Yes, that’s me.”
“Who is it,” he mouths.
“The research company,” you mouth back. “Yes, I could definitely do that. Within this month, even. Yes, of course, I’ll look for it. Thank you very much. You too. Goodbye.”
Your phone clatters against the table and you cradle your head in your hand, fingers of your other hand coming down to drum on the table. Hoseok looks on in worry, stooping to better read your expression.
“What did they say?”
“They said that if I move out there before the month ends, I have the job.”
“You got the job?”
“I got the job.” Your cheeks hurt from how hard you’re smiling and the relief that washes over you takes a weight off your shoulders that you didn’t realize you were carrying.
“I wish I had suggested a nicer place so the rest of the dinner could be celebratory.”
“If you hurry up and finish your burger, we can still have some fun.”
Hoseok jumps at the feeling of your foot running up his leg under the table. Rushing up, he goes to pay the bill, taking his burger with him so he can just finish it later. Once the bill is paid, you clear off the table and drag him through the parking lot, eager to get him to the car and driving to a spot where you don’t have to worry about being found. This turns out to be the very back row of the huge parking lot behind the strip mall. All the big summer block busters have already come and gone, so there isn’t much traffic. As soon as you park, you and Hoseok make a beeline to the back seat. To congratulate you, he tells you that he’ll listen to whatever you say. Even though it’s supposed to be about you, he doesn’t think he can’t possibly lose in this situation.
“I want you on your back,” your eyes are dark as you shirk the clothes you’d only changed into less than an hour ago, putting them on after you showered to go to the diner.
“Sounds good,” he says, lifting his hips so you can slide his shorts off.
“So I can ride you.” you supply. You slip off your underwear.
“Great.” He’s already imagining the view he’ll have of your ass, and his dick twitches eagerly at the thought.
“But you can’t touch me until I let you. And I might not let you.”
“What? Why am I being punished?”
You roll your eyes and grab his shaft a little rougher than necessary when he continues to huff about the lack of justice in the world. He quiets down when you slide down on him, still wet from the when his hand wriggled down your own shorts earlier while you were looking for a spot to park to tease you. His hands automatically come up to rest on your hips and get you started on rocking over him, but you grab both his wrists and pin them both above his head. Ignoring his pout, you use his wrists as a handhold for leverage and begin to grind your hips in slow circles. Once the rhythm is right and you’re wetter than before, you start to really lift yourself up off him and then grind back down on him.
It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy the pace you’ve set, because even through a latex barrier you’re hugging him snugly and slide down him like a dream. But it’s a pace clearly set for you, helping you increase precision so you can use his pelvis as a way to massage your clit. Every time you fuck yourself down on him, you let out a little whine and squeeze his wrists. He groans and throws his head back in frustration, arms and abs flexing with the effort it takes not to wrestle his hands over to you.
“Fuck, just let me use my hands, baby. I just want to make you feel good.”
“Hmm, I don’t know. I feel pretty—ahh—good by myself right now.”
Hesitantly, you release your grip on his wrists, giving him a look that tells him to keep them obediently pinned above his head. For a few moments you lean back and use his legs behind you as support so you can drop yourself more forcefully down onto his dick. After a while of watching him grit his teeth and letting out choked out moans, you give him a cheeky smile before turning and repositioning yourself in the opposite direction.
“Be a nice boy and bend this knee, hmm?”
Hoseok plants his foot firmly on the seat so that his knee is bent. It takes some wiggling on your part but soon you’re able to grind against his thigh as you move up and down. The moans you let out get louder and louder but your legs start to burn with exertion and eventually you have to resort to merely humping his leg. It’s not enough and when you curse lowly he sees his chance. He’s a good team player so he’s willing to help you out if you’ll let him.
“If you just let me use my hands again, I can help you out.” You mutter something under your breath. “What was that?”
“I said fine. As long as you get me off, you can see whatever limbs you want.” Your tone is somewhere between whining and snapping but the sheen of sweat coating your back and arms lets him know how tuckered out you really are.
He sits up once he has your permission. His first order of business with his hands back in use is to land a blow down on one of the globes of your ass. You let out a pained moan and clutch his thigh tighter to your core.
“Did you have fun using me like a toy?”
“I did. It was fun seeing you so mad you couldn’t touch me.” He can’t see your whole face, but you look back at him over your shoulder with a feline smugness in your eyes and a smile in your tone.
He spanks you again. “Should have expected this from you. Always thought you wouldn’t know how to act once you finally got the fucking you’d been looking for.” You merely whine in response so he gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail and pulls. “Why should I let a brat like you cum, huh?”
“Because I just got that new job in the city and you’re proud of me.” You push back on him as best you can when your legs feel like jelly.
“That’s a good answer, baby. I’ll let it go for tonight,” he says as he peppers your shoulder and the parts of your back that he can reach with kisses. “Get on all fours. Hurry.”
You scramble forward on your hands and knees, arching your back for him. He swats your butt again just because he likes the view. He pushes in with no warning, but you’re stretched sufficiently enough that it doesn’t hurt to be so full so abruptly. His hands come to grab both your hips and immediately he pistons forward and fucks you like a machine. Perhaps it’s a side effect of the blue balls he’d been harboring since work started this morning. Perhaps it’s because he has a hunch this is what you wanted the whole time. Perhaps it’s that you’re leaving to some mystery city soon and some part of him believes that if he fucks you deep enough, you’ll take a piece of him with you and that will mean you’ll be together again someday.
Hoseok is certain that this isn’t the last time he’ll see you. But he doesn’t know if it’ll be like this. Like a sort-of summer fling that has a long prologue and a confusing epilogue. He knows you two are linked though. You must know it too. It’s impossible to deny when you both reach climax at the same time during your first time, the breath leaving him like you knocked it out and your eyes rolling into the back of your head like he scratched stars there for only you to see.
He turns you around carefully, so as not to slip out of you, only so he can hold you as you both come down from your respective highs. Neither of you say the words that would probably be most appropriate for a moment like this one. But your hands do automatically wind around him to play with the hair at the nape of his neck and trace secrets into his back. And the skin behind and below your ear is in fact where you smell the most like you, so he presses his nose into the spot and just breathes. Hoping for the best.
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(3 months later)
Hoseok carried the habit of waking up early from his lifeguard job to his real job in the city that’s a 2 hour drive north of his childhood town. With this extra time he likes to explore the different districts, taking a different way to work each day when he can. In doing this, he’s also able to sample all the different coffee shops that are en route to the office and pick up orders given to him by his seniors in the analytics department.
Today his phone is on the fritiz and didn’t finish loading the details to the coffee shop that he was supposed to visit today. Instead, he wonders the streets, still with a bit of free time on his hands before he’s supposed to arrive. A few people have passed him now with steaming take away cups of what is presumably coffee. It takes some intuition, but eventually he makes it to a bright, butter yellow sign and laughs. GoldJin Coffee. Somewhere in the back of his head he remembers liking a tweet from Jin saying that he opened up a second branch, but it didn’t register that it was in Hoseok’s new city until now. It’s unclear whether this was the place his phone intended for him to go, but he steps inside anyway. He knows the coffee here, having come to the original location a few times. With you. As ‘friends’. 
Before the memory can rear it’s head, he shakes his head and moves to stand in line. Most of the other people in suits with briefcases stand in line as they wait for their liquid start of the day. The remaining few seem to be an older, graying couple deliberating over pastries while they wait their turn and another young person looking for fuel. The more he looks over the other people in line, the more Hoseok’s stare his stare lands on the other young person. They look familiar, but he’s not sure why. They’re not wearing a suit, so they can’t be working for his company. He must know them from somewhere else.
The older couple orders their pastries, and someone in a suit orders their drink, then it’s the young person’s turn. They come up to the counter and the barista hands them a drink already made. They thank the barista and move to the side to greet the cashier. Something about the way this person moves grabs Hoseok’s attention to the point where he doesn’t realize it’s his turn to order. He flashes the list of drinks at the barista, having learned from his mistake from trying to recite the flashy drink names himself. The young person moves to a table and as if their bodies are celestial ones, Hoseok gravitates towards the empty table behind them. He watches as they take out a large three ring binder and flip through it while taking sips of their drink.
“J. Hoseok? 6 drinks for J. Hoseok,�� the barista calls, shaking him out of his singular thought process.
He gets up from the table to claim his drinks, feeling a little silly for getting so invested in a stranger so rapidly. When he turns around, you stare up at him with wide eyes full of recognition. He walks over to you.
“Hey, long time no see,” his voice is suddenly hoarse.
“Hey, Hoseok.”
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justanoutlawfic · 6 years
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Liar, Liar: A Charming Faily AU
A fun, cracky Charming Family AU based on a conversation I had with @loboselinaistrash about Emma skipping a dance to go see a movie. Daddy Charming feels ensue. Takes place as though Emma broke the curse at 14.
Also on AO3
David was trying to stay calm.
 Okay, no, he really wasn’t, but if anyone asked he most definitely was.
 The curse had broke a year ago and things were starting to fall into place. Emma felt comfortable with them, she called them “Mom” and “Dad” (sometimes even “Daddy” would slip out and it made him feel like he was on Cloud 9). She was doing amazingly in school and occasionally helped out at the diner.
 He knew that when his daughter came back into his life that she was a teenager. He had missed out on the baby years, along with the young childhood days of playing with dolls and having tea parties. He was adjusting to that, Snow was too. They knew that no matter what, they wouldn’t trade their relationship with Emma for the world.
 They were a bit more protective than most parents, he supposed and he was probably worse than Snow. Every sniffle had him worried she was deathly ill and he worried when she was out of their sight. They hadn’t been able to go through the trial and error of worrying about a baby. She had come to them as a teenager. There were adjustments there and Emma was patient. She kept a phone on her and answered it when they texted or called. For a girl that never had anyone to care about her, she seemed to flourish in an environment when people actually did.
 David had started to relax a bit and loosen the reigns, until Emma announced she had a date to the winter formal. It was no surprise that she’d actually be going, but the fact that she had a date sent him into a tailspin.
 “Isn’t she a bit young?” He asked Snow after Emma had filled them in on the details. She was going with Gareth Erickson, a kid in her class.
Snow chuckled. “She’s 15.”
“Still…”
“She’s going to be fine, David. I was dating at her age, I’m sure you were as well.”
“That’s different.”
“Why? Because she’s your little girl?”
“Well…”
“She’s going with Gareth, David. There’s nothing you can say or do to change that.”
 So, David did his best to suck it up and deal with it. The night of the dance, Emma came downstairs wearing a red strapless dress that she had got with Snow, her blonde curls loose. He felt his throat catch as Snow took a million pictures with her polaroid camera.
 “You look beautiful, sweetheart,” he whispered.
Emma smiled. “Thanks, Dad.”
“Are you sure you don’t need a ride?”
“I’ll be fine. I’m meeting Lily and our dates at the diner.”
“I feel like I should meet this boy.”
“Dad.” Emma rolled her eyes. “You’ve met Gareth before.”
“Not when he was taking out my little girl.”
“I’m 15, not a little girl.”
David smiled, kissing the top of her head. “Always my little girl.”
“Keep your phone on you, sweetheart,” Snow said. “We’ll pick you up when it’s over.”
“Alright. You’re not chaperoning, right?”
“I wasn’t asked to. Why?”
“Just making sure you’re not going to embarrass me like Dad is right now.”
Snow chuckled. “Never. Go, have fun.”
 The two parents stood in the doorway as they watched Emma take the steps downstairs. Snow let out a content sigh, leaning into David.
 “It’s not her first ball, but it’s still just as sweet,” she whispered.
“Yeah.” David fumbled in his pocket. “I think I forgot something at the station.”
“David,” Snow gave him a pointed look. “You are not following our daughter.”
“But…”
“She’s a big girl. She’ll be fine by herself.”
David sighed, before taking one last glance out the window. Emma was heading down the block in the direction of Granny’s, a huge smile on her face. She was happy, that was what mattered. “Alright, alright.”
“Now, come on. It’s been a long time since we had a night to ourselves,” Snow whispered. “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.”
 He smirked, taking hold of her hand and leading her towards the bed. Just before he could kiss her, her phone rang, causing him to groan.
 “Don’t answer it.”
“I have to, it’s the principal.” Snow slid the green button over and held the phone to her ear. “Hello…oh…oh no.” She frowned. “Yes, I’ll be there.” She hung up and gave her husband a sympathetic smile. “Rain check?”
“What happened? Is Emma okay?”
“She’s fine, that was just Mr. Brighton. Apparently it’s flu season, a bunch of the chaperones called out sick. They need me down there.”
“You don’t even teach at the high school.”
“No, but I am a teacher there period.” She pecked his lips. “Next weekend we can ask Mal to host a sleepover for the girls, she owes us one after we took Lily so she and Regina could have that date night.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Snow leaned against the wall, watching the last of the kids straggle in. For what it was worth, the formal was a pretty nice affair. The gym had been covered in decorations and the DJ was playing great music. Most of the girls were on the floor in groups, while the guys took over the snack table. At first, she thought that Emma and her friends were late until she caught sight of Lily and her date together. Another look around and she found Gareth…standing with another girl. A final scan around the room proved that Emma was nowhere to be found.
 What the hell happened? She checked her phone to see if she had any missed calls or texts from her daughter, but there were no notifications. Had Gareth stood Emma up to take someone else to the dance? She felt every muscle in her body tighten as she stormed over to him.
 “Gareth.”
He looked up, flashing her a smile. “Hey, Mrs. C. I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“Where is my daughter?”
“Oh…”
“Listen, I know I may not appear as threatening as my husband, but I was once a bandit.” She folded her arms over her chest. “Emma is a sweet girl, she deserves more than to be stood up.”
“I didn’t stand her up.”
“Right, then where is she?”
“The movies.”
Snow frowned, her muscles loosening a bit. “Why would she be at the movies?”
“She didn’t want to go to the dance, she paid me ten bucks to make it seem like we were going together.”
“Why wouldn’t she just tell us that she didn’t want to go?”
Gareth shrugged. “She didn’t give me the details, I just got my money. Can I go now?”
“Yeah, yeah…just…yeah.”
 Snow watched him walk away before retrieving her phone yet again and dialing her husband’s number.
 “David…I need you to head to the movies.”
Emma sat with her legs folded under her, watching the movie fold out on screen. It had to be one of the most emotional films ever and it hadn’t even advertised itself as such! Andy was going off to college and leaving all his toys behind, well except Woody. How was that fair to the rest of them?
 The theater was mostly empty, so she found it odd when she could hear the door to it open and shut, but didn’t bother to look up. She heard some footsteps and then someone settle into the seat beside her.
 “Coke?” A familiar voice offered.
 Emma looked up and nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw her father there, extending the drink to her. She bit down on her lip and slowly accepted it.
 “Dad,” she whispered.
“We’ll talk about it later.”
 He passed her some candy and popcorn, which surprised her. She had assumed if she got caught, she’d be in so much trouble. Instead, he simply sat there with her watching the movie. They laughed at the funny parts, cried at the emotional ones. By the time it was over, Emma had nearly forgotten that she wasn’t supposed to be there.
 The other patrons left as soon as the credits began to roll, Emma and David stayed behind, polishing off their snacks.
 “So…how was the dance?” David asked.
Emma slurped her empty cup, hoping for a distraction. “It was…fun.”
“Emma.”
She sighed, running her fingers through her hair. “I didn’t go.”
“We know. Your mom got called in last minute to chaperone and was pretty worried when you never showed. She was especially upset when she saw Gareth with another girl.”
Emma winced. “Did she totally embarrass me?”
“If she did, you deserve it for worrying her.”
“I didn’t mean to, you guys were never supposed to know.”
“Most kids would probably lie to go to a party or do something bad, you went and saw a Pixar film.”
“Well…”
“Em, what’s going on? This isn’t like you.”
 Emma sighed, rubbing her greasy palms onto her dress. She was completely ruining it, but didn’t care anymore.
 “I didn’t want to go to the dance,” she mumbled.
“So, why say you were going?”
Emma shrugged. “It was important to Mom. She went on and on about how big a deal balls were where you came from and how she couldn’t wait to help me get ready for one. I just wanted to make her happy.”
“Oh, Em.” David wrapped an arm around her. “Your mom wants you to be happy, that’s it. If you had told her you didn’t want to go, she wouldn’t have been mad at you.”
“Really?”
“Really. We love you, just the way you are. You don’t have to lie to us, we won’t be disappointed over stuff like this.”
Emma bit down on her lip. “Am I in trouble?”
David paused. “Well…you lied…but you went to see a kid movie. There’s not exactly a chapter about this in the parenting manuals.”
Emma snorted. “Dad.”
“How about this, you’re grounded to us for the next couple of days. Meaning, we’re going to be spending some time as a family.”
“Doesn’t sound much like a punishment.”
“Because it’s not, I’m the soft one remember.”
 Emma smiled and gave him a hug, before gathering up their garbage. As they started to walk out of the theater, David got hit with another thought.
 “I get why you lied about going to the dance, but why did you make up having a date?”
“I figured it’d get a rise out of you.”
David’s mouth dropped open. “Emma Ruth!”
She smirked and tossed her cup into the trashcan. “What? It’s fun.”
“Now I’m rethinking not grounding you…”
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dolanbrows-blog · 7 years
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Subjects // Ethan Dolan Series Part 1
Summary: When Ashley and Ethan, no more than familiar faces to each other are paired together for an art project, they’re forced to cross boundaries neither of them had suspected they would ever have to.
Woohoo? I’ve been so reluctant to posting this, because I feel it’s a bit lacklustre since I haven’t really written in a while, and I don’t have a particularly big following and have a severe fear of rejection :’)… As first chapters go, I hope this isn’t too cringey or tedious for anyone to read, and I can promise that the excitement prevails in later chapters. I hope you enjoy!
Word count: 1.74k
WARNINGS: None, other than the occasional swear
~
8:29 AM
“Fuck.” I hissed, pulling my finger from my mouth. I watched blood spread down the side of one ridiculously over-bitten nail as I walked steadily to art class, scowling as it ran down the back of my hand. It stung.
As I stared at my hand, using my sleeve to mop up the blood, the class bell rang down the hall, signalling that I was late. “Great.” I muttered, picking up the pace. I jogged up the final flight of stairs, eventually rounding into the classroom; my worn Vans squeaked against the floor, attracting the attention of my entire art class and Mr Wells, my teacher.
“Late again, Graves?”
I hesitantly opened my mouth to offer an excuse, before being cut off by Wells. “I believe everyone has paired up for this project, aside from Dolan.” A quick nod towards the space where ‘Dolan’ was sent me on my way towards him with my head down.
I sat beside the boy as instructed, not giving him a second glance. He- Ethan-  responded to the action with a small shrug as we both turned our attention back to the front of the class.
“As I was saying,” Wells continued, “Your final project of the year is one which revolves around the duo; the ideas formed through the dynamic of two people.”
As he droned on, I turned to Ethan, who was scribbling what seemed to be initial ideas for this new project. I tried to glance over at what he was writing as subtly as possible- as being someone I’ve barely exchanged a sentence with, I found myself intrigued into how he worked.
“Ashley, right?” I jumped when he suddenly whispered, his eyes fixed on the notebook balanced on his jean-clad thighs, “Do you need a band aid?”
My eyebrows furrowed. “I noticed blood on your hand.” I turned my attention to my still-bleeding finger.
“Uh…sure.” I replied, puzzled as to how, and why he had noticed such a detail. With his eyes not leaving the notebook on his lap, his left arm reached for his backpack under the table in which he dug around for a few seconds, before pulling out a small band-aid packet.
He slid it across the table, where I reached over and took it, unpeeling it and wrapping it around my finger.
“Thanks.” I whisper, receiving another shrug in reply.
“So by the end of term, I want a full mixed media portfolio of work from each pair, with whatever focus you decide on amongst yourselves.” Mr Wells continued, propping up his glasses. “You’ve got this lesson to begin planning, and from then every class will be spent building up your sketchbooks, etcetera. Any questions?”
9:12 AM
An entire half hour of the lesson was wasted on me, scribbling down whatever I could brainstorm, getting rid of the crappy ideas with the eraser on the end of my pencil, and making the biggest pile of rubber debris that I could.
My huffs of frustration were drowned out by mass discussion of ideas from every other pair in the class; people that didn’t arrive late to class, who got the choice of who they worked with. Not that it would’ve made a difference , I thought to myself, glancing at the faces of my classmates. It’s not like any of them speak to me anyway.
Quick tapping turned my attention to Ethan, who I had almost forgotten about. Out of the whole class, we were the only silent ones, aside from his thumb repeatedly tapping on his notebook, as, I presumed, he was mustering up more ideas for the project.
He’s not unpopular, right? I furrowed my brows. “Why didn’t you work with a-” I cut my accidentally spoken thought off with an audible gasp.
His thumb stopped tapping against the paper, and for the first time his attention was drawn away from the notepad, and onto me. “Why didn’t I work with a friend?” He finished my question with a raised eyebrow. His lips were slightly parted as he waited for some sort of reply.
I remained silent, gulping as I couldn’t think of anything to say. “Because I don’t have any. Not in this class, anyway.” He shrugged again.
Ethan’s dark eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at me, almost as if he were assessing me in some way. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, noticing his sharp jawline clench slightly before he leant back in his chair.
I rolled up my jacket sleeves as I felt myself heat up for some unknown reason. “What…what are you looking at?” I questioned, uncertainty in my tone. His body shook slightly as he let out a quiet chuckle. He shook his head, leaning towards his backpack again with one arm, using the other hand to comb through his hair: mostly dark, aside from the few lighter strands at the front.
I watched as he pulled out a sketchbook from his bag and folded it open to a blank page. Picking up his pencil, he began to mark out something, still making occasional eye contact with me. I began to frown.
“What are you doing?”
“Drawing you.”
I remained puzzled.
“We’re supposed to be discussing ideas, Ethan. I don’t think this is-”
“If you keep moving, you’re going to screw up the proportions.” He bit his lip in concentration.
“This…is weird.” I muttered, leaning back in my seat. “We’ve never spoken before, and all of a sudden you’re drawing me?”
“Well…drawing is my ‘thing’, and I’m presuming you haven’t come up with an idea yet?”
I shrugged. “Well, no- we haven’t-”
“So I’m going to draw you, Ashley, until either one of us comes up with something good. You can link a portrait to any topic, so I’m just getting us ahead of the rest of the class.” He smirked up at me.
9:29 AM
I stared at Ethan’s hand as he drew for several minutes, before the loud ringing of the bell blasted through the room. Mr Wells dismissed himself, due to needing to leave for another lesson, and the rest of the class began filing out of the room. I pushed my chair out from under the table, and stood, only to be cut off by Ethan who had stayed put.
“Have you got a free period?” He questioned.
“Uh…yeah, but I was gonna-”
“Sit back down and let me carry on?” He tilted his head towards me somewhat condescendingly.
I looked towards the door and sighed, sitting back down. “I guess I could stay for ten minutes or so.”
Ethan looked up at me as a reference, and I noticed a small smile playing on his lips. I pushed my hair out of my face and frowned. “What?” I asked, letting out a nervous laugh as he chuckled, looking down at his page.
“You wanna see?” He grinned, twiddling the pencil between his fingers.
I shrugged, and Ethan turned his sketchbook around towards me. “I’ve only done the outline and started shading in a bit of the face, but-”
“Dude.” I cut him off, my lips parted. I smiled. “How’ d you do it that good that quickly?” I questioned in disbelief. What he had drawn so far was undoubtedly me, and despite the fact that I tried to avoid coming face to face with my appearance regularly, I couldn’t help but gaze at the detail in the shading he had done.
Ethan laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s alright, I guess.” He spoke, taking back his sketchbook and continuing. “So, if drawing is my thing, what’s yours?” Ethan suddenly asked. I pouted in thought, leaning my elbows on the table.
“I’ve recently gotten into street art, and I’d like to think im alright at that.” I answered, fiddling with my watch. “But I’d have to say photography is my strong point- although there’s not really anything I don’t enjoy experimenting with.” My tone still slightly unsure, yet the previous exchange of smiles reminded me Ethan was no one to be anxious towards.
After watching Ethan concentrating for a while, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. Instinctively, I pulled it out and unlocked it, seeing that I’d received several texts.
Dad: I’ve been given an interview for the city job, honey
Dad: It’s on Saturday morning- would you be able to come with me? You know how things are.
I smiled at the screen, typing back a reply.
Me: I told you things would fall into place! I’m so proud of you. I haven’t got any plans for Saturday, so of course I’ll go with you. Also, remind me later on to get your prescription :)
“What are you all happy about?” Ethan’s voice made me look up. “A special someone send a cute-”
“A special someone? Me?” I scoffed. Ethan frowned.
“What’s funny about that?”
I chewed the inside of my cheek. “I mean…compare me to, I don’t know, every girl in our art class. I’m not exactly-“  I stopped, glancing at Ethan who was still frowning in my direction. I sighed. “Why am I even…no. It was a message from my Dad, Is all.”
“You shouldn’t compare yourself to other people. What’s the point?” He spoke.
I swallowed, folding my arms and avoiding eye contact before looking at my watch. “I, uh…have to go.” I sniffed, packing away by things and standing, all the while Ethan followed me with a stare.
“I…didn’t mean to say anything wrong- I-”
“No,” I cut him off with a weak smile, “it’s not you- I just have to go.”
“Okay, well before you do, can you give me your number? In case either of us get ideas?”
I nodded, twisting round to pull the nearest piece of paper from my bag.
“I got'cha.” Ethan said, pausing my actions. He stuck his arm out across the table, and rolled a pen in my direction with his other hand. I leaned over and wrote my number onto his forearm, before passing his pen back and settling my bag strap.
“See ya.” I said quickly, walking away from Ethan and out of the classroom.
As I walked down the corridor, my phone vibrated once again. I pulled it out of my pocket and read the notification.
Unknown number: Football field tomorrow after classes? Bring your camera. -E
I tapped in a reply, saving his number as Ethan Art.
Me: Why the field? - Ashley
Seconds later I received a reply;
Ethan Art: You’ll see.
55 notes · View notes
roughingitwithcal · 7 years
Text
Not Safe: Part Two (C.H)
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warnings: religion??, cussing, not very gentleman-ly calum, cheating
a.n: here it is! not as good(and long) as i expected it to be but i needed to upload something lollolololl... 
Sundays were the worst. Yes, because of church. Yes, because of school the next day. Yes, because it was Sunday. Normally church would last like 3 hours, 4 hours maximum? No. This town went all out. This town would have church in the morning from 9:30-12:30, go home to get a good little rest, maybe a little early lunch, late brunches, and then come back to church at 4:00-7:00 for evening prayer and “fun games”. Normally some teens would skip the evening session but then they’d have to go to this praying thing on Monday to make up for the time lost on that evening, depending on how chill your parents were. Some usually still had to go. There was no escaping God in this town.
It was morning prayer and here she is again, not in any juvenile band garb but in a nice frilly sundress that was threatening the topple to the ground with how thin those spaghetti straps were. Her hair was up in a tight ponytail but multiple baby hairs managed the poke out from the tens of bobby pins jammed in her hair. Her feet was already starting to hurt from the high wedges that made her look tall and presentable and not at all a slut, at least that's what her mother stated when she bought her the shoes. She straightened out the dress while staring at herself in the mirror, letting out an exhausted sigh. She looked to meet her own eyes and furrowed her eyebrows. What would it look like if she had a lot of makeup on? Like highlighter, bronzer, deep red lipstick? What if she looked like the gorgeous, curvy, promiscuous women that went to her school? “Y/N!” her mom’s frilly voice yelled from the bottom of the stairs. She caught herself rolling her eyes and still continued to roll them all the way and let out another defeated sigh. She grabbed her fancy, flowery, $120 wristlet that yes, her boyfriend bought her, and journeyed her way down the mahogany steps to meet her family already dressed up in their fancy church clothes, her mother and sister fixing their necklaces in the mirror besides the door and her brother and father fixing each other’s bowties. Her eyes met her mother’s who admired, but secretly judged, her as she made her way down slowly.
“You look beautiful, darling,” her father said, fixing the cufflinks on his blazer. She joined the rest of her family at the bottom of the steps and quickly checked the notifications that suddenly started to blow up her phone. All of them was from Dara. Her eyebrows furrowed and after giving her parents a quick “i’ll be back” glance, she stepped into the kitchen to quickly ring her friend.
“Whatever this is, can you—“
“Do not go to church today!” Dara screamed, interrupting whatever she was going to say. By the loud crunching of potato chips on the other line, Dara was probably laying on the couch, catching up on some dumb reality show.
“What are you talking about?”
“Calum Hood is gonna be at the church today!” Dara screamed, the phone picking up the small cracks in her voice and the rustling of her sleeve against the mic. Calum Hood is going to church? He knows what a church is?
“How do you know this?” Y/N asked suspiciously, turning to see her family impatiently wait for her. She shook her head and quickly made her way to the car, making sure the volume was low.
“It's a long story but, Jordan asked if they could grab brunch, aka blow him from behind the school, and he said no to her, saying that he was gonna go to church today!”
“Since when does he come to church?”
“Probably after the little encounter you two had on my porch Friday night.” She could see her smug face already. Sure, their little encounter they had was…something. It was a slight touch to the cheek. A whisper in the ear. But that couldn’t have possibly encouraged him to get up and walk into church. The last time Calum Hood was seen somewhere religious, he was probably 13 and he had put out a cigarette in the holy water well that sat at the front of the church.
“Well I doubt I’ll see him. Hanging with Tyler, remember?”
“Of course. The town star!” She chuckled at the end and Y/N let out a breathy laugh herself, making her mother turn around in her seat, giving her not a disapproving look, but a look that says “get off the phone and spend time with your family.”
“I gotta let you go. I’ll talk to you after,” and Y/N quickly hung up her phone before Dara could let in a "goodbye". A couple seconds before she put her phone down, her phone received a text message and picking up, she saw the text notification from her brother.
Hanging? Or banging?
The church parking lot was full of dressed up families that come mainly just to show off their new Lamborghinis and Porsches. Friends come up to each other and they take their regular photos near the doors of the church where the red door was pure “aesthetic”. Men shout across the roads about their day and how intense the game was last night and moms get together to show off their kids and whatever new avant-garde jewelry they bought that they obviously don’t need. It was like this everyday. Everyone in this God-loving town got together and they start to tell each other things that they could say to each other on the other days, but Sundays just has to be the only day where they could talk about it. Boring, right? It was.
Y/N and her family stepped out of the family car and was immediately greeted by friends and some elderly people who have known their parents, or her grandparents. Her and her family were fairly popular in this town, considering the fact that her dad was the pastor of this church. He was loved and adored by everyone. He never got on anyone’s bad side and if everybody loved him, they obviously loved his family. She stands by the car as she watches her family ditch her and meet up with friends and neighbors. She watches her dad hurry into the old brick building with ten other elderly men chasing him at his feet as they rush to get the reception going. She watches her mom laugh as she shows off her little sister and the backflips she could do, making the other kids and their parents jealous. She watches her older brother meet with his football pals and they yell and laugh and clap hands and were just being annoying as usual. What a family. She leaned her head against the car and shut her eyes, feeling the bright sun brush her skin and the subtle flows of wind that came every few minutes. She let out a sigh and she was so distracted by the feeling of nature, she didn’t feel the car give a subtle shake and the presence that accompanied her.
“You look like you’re having fun,” a sly voice chuckled, making her jump and straighten her posture. When she whipped her head around, she met the brown eyes of Calum Hood, his mouth cigarette-free and his body not covered up in his rocker garb. He was now dressed in a white button up and black skinny jeans, accompanied with a black tie. He could have at least combed his hair.
“What are you doing here?” she exclaimed, pushing off from the car, looking around her shoulder to see if anyone found her interacting with the town's biggest disappointment.
“What? I can’t,” he placed a pair of dark sunglasses on top of his nose and pointed his head towards the church in front of him, people starting to pile in, “go to church or something?”
“You don’t go to church.” She could feel her hands getting sweatier again. Why does this keep happening? She grabbed the pastel pink cardigan that was draped around her shoulders and wrapped it around herself, suddenly feeling insecure.
“You get to decide that?” His lips formed a smirk, as his hand reaches to her arm to pluck a piece of lint off the fabric. She could feel the warmth in his hands through the cloth, as his fingertips lightly grazed her arm. The feeling was replaced as she felt a strong hand wrap around her waist and pull her body into a warm, almost hot, and buff body.
"You ready to go, sweetheart?" She heard Tyler's voice whisper into her ear as he jolted to her side. She didn't meet his eyes but she nodded and turned her head away from Calum. She started to walk but she didn't feel Tyler move. She felt his hand tighten around her hip and pull her closer, almost as if he was about to enclose her in a cage made of his arms.
"How you doing, Hood?" Tyler remarked, his head nodding towards Calum as he clicked his tongue against his teeth. Calum chuckled as he watched Tyler wrap his arms around her like a boy grasping a teddy bear and he chuckled and shook his head as he watched her try her best not to make any eye contact.
"Never been better." He lifted himself off the car and turned around, walking off in the opposite way, his chuckles still heard within ear shot as he chucked a toothpick into the freshly mown grass.
The light practically burned her eyes as she walked out of the church, the bright light she hasn't seen in 3 hours making her cold skin tremble and shudder. The reception was still going on but she quickly excused herself when her head started to feel heavy and dizzy. It was best to just step outside and get fresh air before she had to spend another 1-2 hours hearing about how we are sheep and how God is the sheepherder. She slowly made her way down the steps and turned around the banister of the stairs and leaned her body against the wall that was built to make the stairs more pleasing. Her feet were hurting, her head was pounding, and this dress was making it impossible to lift her arms or else the straps would snap and the entire town would get a glimpse. Her eyes closed as the wind finally started to pick up and she felt almost relaxed until a shadow blocked the sun from her view. Although it was comforting, she wanted to see who or what was large enough to cover the sun and when she opened her eyes, she saw the last thing she ever wanted to see.
"Looks like ya missed me," he chuckled, his teeth chewing at the black lip ring. Was that there before? He was back in his normal getup; a black Led Zeppelin shirt with torn jeans and Converse. God forbid anyone that takes a glance at him.
"Yes. I crave you every second of every day," she rolls her eyes and tilts her head the other way, squinting to block her vision from the blinding sun. She can hear the chuckles that echo in his throat as he leaned against the wall with her, their arms barely touching. She quickly crossed her arms against her figure, not even caring that the strap of her dress dared to fall off her shoulder.
"God, you're a fucking sight," he whispers through his teeth. She quickly spins to meet his eye, not surprised at the fact that he used God's name in vain, but the fact he had the audacity to say something like that to her. He smirked at her reaction and subtlety nodded his head, chuckling as he turned from her eyes.
"Why are you following me?" She admitted, pushing off the wall to face him, trying to get his attention. He smirks and he turns to meet her eyes, the only noise between them was the sound of their breathing and the rustling of the leaves of the trees beside them. He couldn’t help but gaze at how incredibly sexy she was, how she was trying to show off how fucking innocent she is when really inside, he could tell she was craving for something deeper than good boy Tyler Gibbs. His bottom lip makes its way in between his teeth, sucking in a deep breath before speaking up.
“Maybe I can’t get enough of you,” he sighs, straightening his posture so that he towered over her. She was taken back at how much taller he suddenly was that she didn’t even notice he had stepped up to her, the top of their shoes barely touching. His hand moves to her shoulder and the warmth that radiates off his tattooed hand gives her goosebumps all the way down to her toes. He slips his fingers underneath the small white spaghetti strap and he gazes up at her, practically feeling how turned on she was.
Jesus what was this feeling? Her stomach started to bubble and her arms felt useless, like she couldn’t even lift up a finger from where she crosses her arms across her chest. Her breathing became louder and quicker as his hands slightly grazed her shoulder as he lifted the spaghetti strap to readjust it.
“Wouldn’t want the town to see what is mine,” he whispers into her ear, his lips grazing the edge and his fingers delicately drawing patterns into her tense shoulder. What’s his? She was taken out of her lustful trance and pushed him back into the brick wall, scoffing at his delinquent behavior.
“I am not yours, asshole,” she angrily muttered, straightening her dress before making her way back to the church. He had the audacity to call her his? He was nothing but a rude fuckboy who doesn’t know how to stop. Angry thoughts that God and her parents wouldn’t approve of ran through her head. Asshole, fucker, fucktard, shit head, nuisance —
“But you’re fine with being Tyler’s?” He yelled after her, not moving from where he was, his shoulder a little sore from where she pushed him. He chuckled at how she slowly turned around and glared at him.
“I am not anyone’s property. I am not yours, Tyler’s, anybody’s.”
“He treats you as though you are his property,” he says, clearing his throat, sticking a toothpick in between his teeth.
“Why do you think you have the right to stick your nose into other people’s business?” She was in front of him again, but this time she glared at him with the darkest death stare, her finger poking at his chest. It was soft and hard at the same time. He snickered at her and shook his head, leaning against the concrete wall as she came along with him, her finger digging deeper in his chest.
“He holds you like no one else is allowed to touch you, yet he hasn’t touched you himself,” his hands now rest in his jean pockets, “he speaks to you as if you were a dog ready for a command to get your treat, but you never get it. And,” he takes in a deep breath and drops his head, giggling to himself. Jesus, what was this kid on? Why is everything so funny to him? “and you’re oblivious to the fact that he has already had sex.”
Her finger drops to her side, her eyebrows furrowing at the last statement Calum made about Tyler. What was he talking about? His smirk grows, his eyes hooded, feeling the weed from the joint he smoked earlier starting to settle in. God, she is so fucking beautiful and so perfectly naive.
She could see the redness around his eyes and the smile that started to grow like he was about to giggle again. Of course. He’s high. He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s saying.
“You need help,” she mutters, shaking her head. When she is about to turn to make her way back into the church to meet her family who is probably worried about her, or not, who knows, he grabs her wrist and turns her back to meet him, but he pulls her into his chest so she was practically laying against him. Their hips aligned perfectly with each other and the slight graze of her ass that came from his hand sent shivers up her spine.
“You don’t believe me?” he mutters, almost as if he was saddened by her disapproval. She tried her best to fight her way out of his arms but he was definitely not letting go.
“You’re high, Calum, let me go.” She tried her best to wiggle her arms out from where they were squished by both of their chest, but he wasn’t budging. He wouldn’t let her go.
“Tyler Gibbs,” he chuckled at the name, his eyes trying to meet yours, “is just as big as a fuckboy as I am, darling.” She stops struggling as her eyes met his big brown ones, decorated with red alongside the edges. What the fuck was he talking about? Why can’t he just spit it out? He notices the confusion in her face and hold her tighter, afraid that he what he was about to say next would scare her off. She was probably already scared but this feeling of her rubbing up against his crotch, centimeters away from touching each other, just made him go crazy and he couldn’t let her go.
“A week ago,” he stutters, “Tyler Gibbs walks into this party one of my friend’s were throwing. Completely threw us on our asses that the town good boy and a bunch of his friends were looking for some fun from us. He walks through the crowd, already drunk, and he just straight up, grabs a girl from out of town and starts to rub himself on her. God, the way he just rubbed up on her ass, the way his eyes hooded over—“
“Stop it,” she demanded. Okay now she was getting upset. Not really sure at who or what. At Calum, because he was probably lying. At Calum again because he let Tyler do that. At Tyler, because he did what he did. At herself, being so stupid to save herself for a guy that didn’t care about her. Her arms came up to push off of Calum but his grip continued to get tighter, enclosing her and holding her tighter as she struggled off of him.
“And then he took her to a nearby closet and that’s where you could hear,” he pauses, his voice entirely calm as he held Y/N against him, not even caring that she was probably bruising him from her punches, “precious town good boy, Tyler Gibbs, rip off this girl’s dress and the moans—“ She slapped him. She had finally managed to wiggle her arm out from the grip and slapped him on his cheek, making him shut the fuck up. He completely let go of her and she stumbled back on her feet, her eyes beginning to tear. His gaze turned angry and annoyed and right when he was about to call her rude names to intentionally hurt her, his eyes turned soft, his angry figure softening as he saw tears start to form in her now red eyes, her body shaking from either the truth or the fact that he literally held her against her will. What the fuck was wrong with him? He would never touch a girl like this, so when he realized he just did, he mentally slapped himself in the face.
“Go to hell,” she spat at him, quickly fixing her dress before dashing up the stairs, back into the large church.
Calum was completely sobers up at this point. Normally, he would shrug of those kinds of comments; “go to hell”, “asshole”, etc. But today, when she muttered those words back to him, he felt a pang of hurt in his stomach. Like someone had just punched him square in the gut, and trust me, he knew exactly what that felt like. He looked around and nobody was to be seen. No one saw that the town bad boy was just slapped by the town good girl. No one saw that he held the town good girl against his will and made her cry. He cleared his throat and went on his way, ignoring the flutter in his stomach that was aching for him to turn the fuck around.
329 notes · View notes
sugas-kookies · 7 years
Text
Cosa Nostra (Pt. 5)
Summary: You were just a girl who took some odd jobs from the Min Syndicate to make some extra cash. When Min Yoongi himself sends a request for you to come to his mansion, any semblance of your normal life gets thrown out the window. What sort of dangers will face you once you become associated with one of the biggest mob bosses?
Mafia!YoongixReader
Angst/Smut/Fluff
Word Count: 3.4k
Part [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] 
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You awoke to three quick raps on your bedroom door, startling you out of your comfortable sleep. After staring at the door for a moment, you untangled yourself from your bedsheets and shuffled your way toward the door, too sleepy to give a second thought about your appearance. ‘Who the hell would be knocking at my door?’ You thought as you reached for the doorknob, ‘I doubt that Yoongi would go out of his way to come to my room, unless he sent someone to fetch me.’
Your question was answered as you opened the door to reveal Seokjin and Hoseok, both giving you dazzling smiles as you looked at them questioningly, “Um, hi guys, do you…need something?”
Seokjin cleared his throat before saying, “Yoongi listened to your…grievances, and has decided to let you leave the mansion of your own accord, whenever you want.”
“That’s only if you let us tag along though, (Y/n),” Hoseok added, “It would be way too risky to let you go out by yourself.”
You stared blankly at them for a moment before replying, “So Yoongi has just assigned me babysitters, huh? This is definitely not what I fucking wanted…”
The two men looked at each other before shrugging, “I’m sorry, (Y/n), but rules are rules,” Jin said, giving you an apologetic look. You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. As much as you wanted to get mad, you couldn’t find it in yourself do so. It wasn’t fair to blame Hoseok and Seokjin, they were only doing their jobs, and probably wanted to babysit you as little as you wanted to be babysat.
“Okay, fine, I understand. Since I can go out and do whatever I want though, we’re going shopping. I need some cooler clothes since it’s only getting hotter outside. You two…wait here I guess, I’ll be ready in like 30 minutes or so.” Without waiting for their response, you closed your door and let out a puff of air. Shopping with two guys glued to your side was going to be awkward as hell, but you truly did need to get more summery clothes so you weren’t sweating it out in long sleeves.
Staying true to your word, you had finished getting ready in about half an hour, stepping out of your room to see Hoseok and Seokjin sitting against the wall, “Sorry to keep you waiting, I’m ready to go now.”
They both got up immediately, Hoseok breathing a quiet “finally” in relief as the three of you walked out of the mansion. The boys led you to a small SUV and opened the back door to let you in. ‘”Just how many cars does Yoongi need?” You found yourself asking out loud as you climbed into the back seat behind the driver’s seat.
Seokjin let out the same squeaky little laugh that he had when you first met him as Hoseok replied, “Well, it’s not exactly inconspicuous to be driving a Tesla everywhere. That just screams “I kill people for a living”, and that’s definitely not the kind of attention we need.”
You knew you shouldn’t laugh when he was probably dead serious but you couldn’t help yourself as you found your laughter mixing in with Jin’s high pitched one, “Alright, alright, you have a point Hoseok. Now, let’s begin our embarrassingly awkward shopping journey at the outlet mall shall we? There’s no better gal pal bonding than shopping.”
Their laughter filled the car as they pulled away from the mansion, the humorous atmosphere easing your nerves significantly. You soon found yourself wanting to throw yourself out of the car when Seokjin revealed his love for dad jokes, yet you found yourself laughing all the same. Conversing with them wasn’t as awkward as you were expecting, yet you knew that was probably going to change with them hovering as you tried to shop. Still, with your newfound semi-freedom, you were determined to enjoy your day outside of the Min estate, and away from all of the mafia shit, save for your body guards.
Pretty soon your trio pulled up to the outlet mall, and your nerves began to knot in your stomach a little; however, you weren’t going to let your awkwardness about the situation ruin the mood. You hopped out of the car and gave the two boys a smirk, “I know just how much you were looking forward to this, so I’ll shop as slow as possible, okay? Oh, and of course we’ll spend most of our time in the lingerie sections of stores.”
The pained looks on their faces made you explode into a bubbly laughter, “Oh my god, your faces are priceless! You’d think I just threatened to torture you.”
Seokjin blushed and shyly scratched the back of his head, “You’re not…actually going to spend all of your time in the underwear section, are you?”
You rolled your eyes as you walked towards the entrance of the outlet mall, “Since you’re so nervous about it, I have half a mind to do so.” You gave Hoseok and Seokjin another mischievous smile so they knew you weren’t serious, but it didn’t seem to soothe their minds all that much. ‘Men get so uncomfortable by the weirdest things,’ You thought to yourself as you and your handsome entourage entered the first store.
From there, shopping was actually more of a breeze than you thought it would be; Hoseok and Seokjin proved to be pretty good shopping companions, either with Hoseok’s goofy behavior or Jin giving you his honest opinions about the clothing you picked out. It was so natural, it almost slipped your mind that these two men weren’t your friends, but your body guards assigned to protect you from God knows who.
You sighed a little, putting the sweater you had just been looking at back on the rack, ‘Just because they’re here for their job doesn’t mean they don’t like being here, (Y/n). I shouldn’t even care what they think anyway, we’re all just temporary coworkers until this whole Jungkook thing gets solved.’ A buzzing in your pocket snapped you out of your thoughts.
Unsure of who would be texting you, you took out your phone to see what the notification was. It was from an unknown number with a simple message: “Ditch your body guards. Meet me at the coffee shop two blocks down to the right of the mall. Don’t be scared, I only want to talk. I’ll be waiting.”
You froze, eyes glued to the message on your phone, ‘What the fuck, who is this?’ You thought worriedly to yourself, ‘What do I do? If it’s Jungkook, it’s stupid to go alone, but then again this could be my opportunity to get close to him like Yoongi wants…’
“Hey (Y/n)! Does this just scream fashionista or what?” Hoseok chuckled as he popped out of an aisle wearing the ugliest feathered vest you had ever seen. You would have laughed if you weren’t stressed out over this anonymous message. “(Y/n), a little bit of a reaction at least? What’s wrong?”
Seokjin looked up when he heard Hoseok ask what was wrong and narrowed his eyes a little bit, “Does it have to do with your phone? Did someone send you a message?” The boy’s playful attitudes were gone in an instant, faces stony as they looked at you for an answer. If you wanted to check this out for yourself, you were going to have to come up with a lie, and come up with something quick.
You shook your head, “No…well, I did get a message, but it’s just my manager wanting me to fill someone’s shift last minute. I’m just irritated because they always ask me to fill in. Anyway, Hoseok, you’ll be a damn fool if you don’t buy that vest right now.”
Hoseok gave a small laugh, but the way the two men looked at you told you that they didn’t quite believe you. They had every reason to be suspicious, your lie was very weak, and you weren’t much of an actor. You had the feeling that if you didn’t find some way to slip away soon, they’d decide to leave before you had the chance.
‘Think, (Y/n), think! How can you get away without them noticing?’ You casually glanced around the store, your eyes falling on the women’s dressing rooms. ‘If I remember correctly, the dressing room has a back door or some employee room that I can slip out of…It’s a shitty plan, but it’s my only shot.’ You turned to the boys, “Hey, I’m going to try on some of these clothes to make sure they fit, you guys can wait outside.”
They simply nodded, leaving you to try to casually walk to the dressing room without making them even more suspicious of you. Once you walked in to the dressing room, you began searching for the door that you had remembered being back here. You rounded the corner of one of the changing stalls only to find that the door you had recalled was a fire door. ‘Fuck, if I open that door the alarms are gonna go off immediately. Hoseok and Jin will definitely know something’s up then,’ You paced in front of the door for a minute before sighing to yourself, “Well, it’s not like I have any other choice.”
You pushed on the door and immediately began sprinting, the fire alarm blaring in your ears. “There goes my chance of slipping out unnoticed,” You grumbled under your breath as you continued to run out of the outlet mall. Once you had gotten roughly a block away from the complex, you slowed your pace to a walk, confident that you had given Hoseok and Seokjin the slip momentarily.
Your phone began buzzing almost immediately, messages and calls from the two men flooding in endlessly. ‘I can’t tell them where I’m going, but I shouldn’t leave them worrying about my safety…’ You thought to yourself as you sent them a brief message: “Don’t worry, I’m okay. I have something I have to do, don’t look for me.” Satisfied with your text, you put your phone on silent and continued to the coffee shop that the mysterious number told you to go to.
The coffee shop itself was small and rather unnoticeable, with just the workers and a few patrons inside. You peered into the windows for any sign of Jungkook, but you didn’t see anyone that even remotely looked like him, ‘If Jungkook isn’t here then…who the fuck asked me to come here?’ You furrowed your brows in thought before you felt a tap on your shoulder, making you yelp in surprise.
You turned and were met by a bright, boxy smile, “Hello, (Y/n), I’m glad you decided to come.” Taehyung was so passive with the idea, as though he totally didn’t just somehow find your phone number and arranged an anonymous meeting.
“You’re…Kim Taehyung. How the hell did you get my phone number, let alone find out my name?” You crossed your arms, irritated that the stunt you just pulled to get away from your body guards was pretty much pointless.
He grinned as he scratched the back of his head, “Ah, it just took some poking around, and asking the right people the right questions. Anyway, come inside with me, I’ll buy you a drink, if you want.” Taehyung gestured to the door, waiting for you to walk towards it. You had half a mind to turn around and walk right back to the mall and find Hoseok and Jin; you had no patience to deal with an all-too-naïve investigator going down the wrong rabbit holes. Still, you figured you should humor the guy, otherwise he would just keep pestering you until you at least talked to him.
“Fine, I’ll go in with you, but I’m not particularly in the mood for a drink,” You replied as you opened the door to the coffee shop, “You have no idea how much shit I just got into for this bullshit, and I see coffee way too much at my job to really enjoy it.”
Taehyung nodded, “Alright, I understand, but that’s too bad though. A drink really would have lightened the mood.” He scanned the shop for a moment before adding, “Let’s sit at that booth in the back, since it’ll give us more privacy.” You knew he was picking that spot because it was away from any windows, ensuring that the boys wouldn’t be able to see you unless they deliberately came inside the shop. Not having the energy to protest, you walked over to the place he pointed out and cautiously took your seat across from him, biting your lip out of nervousness.
He didn’t say anything, instead choosing to bore holes in your head with his penetrating stare. It was weird, to say the least, and you couldn’t stop yourself from giving a small shiver at the intensity of his gaze. While Yoongi’s eyes were cold and calculating, Taehyung’s were strangely warm and inviting, yet prying. It was as if he already knew everything, or at least had already guessed, and was just waiting for the words to come tumbling out of your mouth. Whether he actually already knew or not, you couldn’t really care less, but you did want to warn him about getting involved. You had an inkling that people didn’t last long when it came to getting in the way of Min Yoongi.  
“You’re playing with fire, you know,” You began softly, “If Yoongi finds out you lured me here, he’d have your head.”
Taehyung cocked his head questioningly, “Lured? I didn’t lure you anywhere. I simply asked if you would meet me and have a chat, and you came. Luring implies the use of blackmail or something beneficial, none of which I intended nor stated.” He chuckled a little bit as you frowned, annoyed that he had a point, “Either way, you’re here now, which means that I get to ask you the questions I’ve been dying to know the answer to.”
You crossed your arms and cocked your eyebrow, “And what makes you think I’m going to answer these questions?”
He smirked, “You’ll tell me what I want to know, one way or another. You probably won’t even know you’re giving me the information I want until it’s already slipped out of that cute little mouth of yours.” You were about to show your annoyance at his subtle flirting when he interrupted, “What’s your connection with Min Yoongi?”
You hesitated for a moment, debating on what you should tell him. Eventually you decided to say, “I’m his girlfriend. What does it matter?”
Taehyung hummed in curiosity as he leaned back in his seat, “Really? I’m not too sure about that answer…”
“What, do you want me to prove it or something?” You shot back, irritation bubbling in you. He was already seeing right through you on the most basic of questions, what else were you going to accidentally let slip by just being here?
He shook his head, “No, no, it’s not so much with you that it’s unbelievable, it’s with him.” His eyes went cold for a second, as if thinking on some unpleasant memory before continuing, “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but the way that man looks at you is not the way a man should look at someone who is supposed to be his girlfriend.”
You rolled your eyes and scoffed on the outside, but on the inside your stomach began to tie itself in knots, ‘What does he mean, by the way he looks at me? He looks at me like he looks at everyone else. Anyway, it’s not like I don’t know he’s just using me…’
“Were you hoping that you were different? That in using you he would develop some sort of fondness for you?” Taehyung inquired, almost as though he were reading your thoughts. You didn’t say anything, knowing that he was right. He continued, “Have you ever thought about the possibility that you aren’t the first woman that he has used?”
Your eyes snapped up to look Taehyung in his eyes, hoping to find any sign that he was lying or just being cruel, but all you saw was blatant honestly, “….What do you mean, Taehyung?”
“You know exactly what I mean.” When you didn’t respond, Taehyung sighed and pulled out his phone, fiddling with it for a few seconds before sliding it over to you, “Those are photographs of all of the women Min Yoongi has “gotten close to” over the past five years. They were a lot like you, naively believing that they were different, special. Most of these girls we still haven’t found, (Y/n).”
Numbly, you swiped through the photographs, looking at each girl. They looked…well, normal, like you. They were all young women, probably fresh out of college with either money problems or a thrill for danger. Each photo made you sicker and sicker, the words “still haven’t found” echoing in your head. “Why are you showing me this?” You quietly asked, gently sliding the phone back towards him.
He pocketed his phone before looking you in the eyes apologetically, “At heart, I’m still a cop, and cops are supposed to protect people. I don’t want to add you to this folder, (Y/n).” Taehyung let the crushing silence hang in the air for a few minutes before saying, “Help me take him down, (Y/n), and prevent any other women from getting onto his list of used objects. If you’re worried about your safety, I swear I’ll protect you, but I need information in order to do that.”
You sat with your hands in your lap, looking at them solemnly. You knew Yoongi was just using you, but now faced with the possibility that he would just kill you once he was done with you had you scared and confused. It was almost impossible to wrap your brain around the idea. The way Hoseok and Seokjin joked around with you today, the way Namjoon made jokes about you and Yoongi being like an elderly couple, Yoongi saying that you were a part of the Min family now…it all just seemed too real and genuine for Taehyung’s words to be true. ‘That’s right, they can’t be true,’ You told yourself, ‘Taehyung is just using mind games to try and get me to rat them out…these pictures could have come from anywhere.’
You looked back up at Taehyung with defiant eyes, “I’m sorry, but I’m not going to just rat them out. Whether what you say is true or not, I can’t just turn my back on them. I knew what I was getting into when I met them.”
He sighed, appearing a little crushed by your response, “Ah, I thought I got through to you for a minute there, but I guess I got a little too hopeful.” He stood up out of his seat, “It was nice to finally get to talk to you, (Y/n). If you ever need anything, you know what number to call.” Taehyung began to walk out before pausing and added, “Just…if anything, don’t risk your life for his goals, and don’t put yourself in Jungkook’s path.” With that, he left, leaving you to your jumbled thoughts.
You didn’t know what to believe anymore; Yoongi treated you like a fairly valuable asset to the Min Syndicate and seemed to care about your well-being, but Taehyung also appeared concerned, and was a little more honest than Yoongi. There was only one way to find out who was telling the truth, and that was to find out more about these girls that Taehyung had just told you about. Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you took out your phone to see what time it was, only to see an incoming call from Yoongi.
‘Fuck I forgot that I totally just ditched the boys and made everyone evacuate that store at the mall. They must have told Yoongi about what I did…’ You took a deep breath, debating on whether you should answer the phone or face a furious Yoongi when you got back to the mansion. ‘I’m going to get yelled at anyway, so I might as well pick up.’ You thought before hesitantly clicking the green button and raising the phone to your ear.
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ichibanjeon · 7 years
Text
Ten Dos and Ten Don'ts of dating Min Yoongi
i think i’m funny, jungkook’s a brat; the usual. happy birthday to me lmao
a complete guide on what to do and not to do if you happen to be dating a man called min yoongi, brought to you by yoongi’s favorite brat, jeon jungkook.
word count: 1,306 | AO3
Disclaimer: Jeon Jungkook does not take responsibility for Yoongi’s actions, and therefore should not be held accountable for any negative reactions his boyfriend might have, as Yoongi’s levels of tolerance towards Jungkook – and towards Jungkook only – exceed all expectations.
TEN DOs
1. Do stay up texting him until ungodly hours, when you know or feel that he’s still at the studio.
Yoongi rolls his eyes when he hears the familiar sound of a message app notification. He should go home, he really should. Smiling and shaking his head, he leaves the studio. Jungkook’s cuddles are a tempting offer….
2. Do kiss him out of nowhere
Kiss his nose
They’re both giggly messes on Sunday mornings, shy sunrays tickling their skin. Jungkook struggles a bit, but manages to get on top of Yoongi. His face is close, so close, and his lips brush against Yoongi’s nose.
Kiss his head
It’s late, and they should be sleeping. Instead, they managed to sneak out of the dorms, so Yoongi can show Jungkook his recent works. They’re wearing baggy t-shirts and sweatpants, and the older boy put on a beanie because the nights are getting colder. Jungkook’s chin is not far from being buried in the beanie, as he listens to the new melodies, and that’s when the maknae takes a turn and kisses the side of Yoongi’s head. He did well (he always does).
Kiss his lips
“Listen up, hyung,” Hoseok starts, during breakfast, “I need you to stop being so cute together all the time.”
Yoongi isn’t sure of how to react to such a complaint. He doesn’t have time to, because Jungkook’s walking in the second after, kissing his lips, letting out a quiet “good morning, hyungs” and leaving again.
Yoongi’s flustered and Hoseok can’t stop giggling.
3. Do either:
Conveniently forget to call him hyung…
“I guess we can’t go out today,” Jimin says, pouting. They were all excited about their day off.
“Yoongi and I are going to watch a couple of movies,” Jungkook says, “does anyone wanna join?”
It’s not even a big deal anymore. Yoongi lets out a “you damn brat”, but everyone sees right through him. Jungkook snickers quietly.
…or call him hyung every five minutes
“Sorry, Jungkook, I really can’t take you today,” Seokjin says, sighing.
“It’s okay,” Jungkook replies, “Suga-hyung can do it.”
Seokjin certainly doesn’t miss the way Yoongi drops whatever he was doing (reading this one book he couldn’t shut up about just the previous week) to look at the maknae.
“Could you take me please, Suga-hyung?” Jungkook asks, using a sweet tone that could be aegyo.
(Yoongi will never admit he always falls for it).
4. Do offer to take him out for lamb skewers meals when you both have time
Jungkook has a towel wrapped around his waist and he’s singing off-key as he exits the bathroom after his late night shower.
Yoongi’s bedroom’s door is open. He’s lying down and listening to music before he goes to sleep. That is, before a particular head peaks from the hall.
“You and me, lamb skewers, tomorrow?”
“Sure,” Yoongi says. What a boy.
5. Do try to surprise him
“Happy birthday to you!” Jungkook sings and plays the final note on the keyboard.
Yoongi is a somewhere between extremely surprised and beyond proud. “Where did you learn that?” he asks.
“I looked it up online and practiced whenever you were out,” the other admits sheepishly.
“You could have just asked me,” Yoongi says, “thank you.”
6. Do pretend you know nothing about the pictures of you he secretly keeps
“Jungkook, let me take a picture of you,” Yoongi calls, pausing the show he’s watching.
“Why?” the other asks. It’s not that he’s bothered; he just knows for a fact that Yoongi’s phone has a ton of pictures of him.
“Your birthday’s coming up and I only have a few pictures of you to post.”
“Sure,” Jungkook agrees. He understands; he does the same with Yoongi.
7. Do tap his butt lightly (and check his reaction)
He’s used to it, but he still jumps whenever he feels Jungkook’s hand tap his butt. When he starts to protest, he younger giggles and runs away. Yoongi shakes his head, but he can’t hide the smile on his face.
8. Do support his efforts, even when he doubts himself
“Come on Yoongi, try again,” Jungkook says, tugging on the older’s sleeve.
“It’s no use, I can’t get it right,” Yoongi sighs. He’s been trying to learn this particular move for an hour, with Jungkook’s help.
“Hey,” the younger says softly, smiling down at the other, “you can do this.”
9. Do share your dreams and hopes with him
“And do you think Gureum and Holly will like this new dog?” Yoongi asks.
“Why wouldn’t they? I think there’s always room for a new dog,” Jungkook answers, yawning.
“You are such a dork. A cute one, but a dork,” the older says, turning to meet the other’s tired eyes.
“Joke’s on you, because you’re going to marry this cute dork one day.” Jungkook is already half asleep, but his words still hit Yoongi.
“Yes, yes I am,” he thinks.
10. Do love him unconditionally
“And I will always love yooooooouuu,” Jungkook sings.
Yoongi rolls his eyes.
“That’s not gonna be the wedding’s opening song.”
“Come on, live a little,” Jungkook pouts, but immediately starts singing again.
TEN DON’Ts
1. Do not borrow his favorite camera without telling him
“Jungkook, have you seen my camera?” Yoongi asks, walking in the maknae’s room, only to find him holding it.
“It was a good shot, hyung,” he says, turning around.
2. Do not expose or tease him publicly
Self-explanatory. A good example would be Yoongi’s birthday video.
3. Do not steal his clothes
Not only does Jungkook do this often, but he also walks around the dorms asking everyone if they like his new hoodie/beanie/jacket/cap/anything.
Yoongi sighs and secretly snaps a picture of it. He thinks it’s adorable.
4. Do not show anyone the pictures you have with/of him
"And here, hyung, we have Yoongi sleeping next to Holly,” Jungkook says, pointing at his phone’s screen.
Yoongi's horrified expression is the first thing Jungkook sees when he looks up.
5. Do not call him anything like “shorty”
“Shorty, remember we’re having lunch out today” is a text Yoongi gets often. It doesn’t even bother him anymore.
6. Do not boop his nose (because you think it’s cute)
Although it’s a habit Jungkook has, whenever Yoongi can’t see it coming.
7. Do not act smug around him
“Remember that one time you said I was good at everything?” Jungkook says, during lunch.
“Are we really doing this right now?”
“Oh wait, that happens all the time,” the maknae says, leaning back in his chair.
8. Do not be too obvious about your thoughts on his performances
It’s the third time Jungkook watches the fancam but Yoongi’s verse still makes him gulp and hold his breath and he remembers why he fell in love all over again.
“So I was thinking- what are you doing?” Yoongi walks in.
“N-nothing,” he tries, but Yoongi grabs the phone and his curious expression is quickly replaced by an amused one.
He has teased Jungkook about it ever since.
9. Do not ruffle his hair
Along with booping Yoongi’s nose, ruffling his hair is on the List Of Things You’ll Never Get Away With If You’re Not Jeon Jungkook.
10. Do not hurt him in any way
“I don’t think I could ever hurt you on purpose, you know,” Yoongi says, “maybe a few smacks here and there, nothing serious.”
“That’s good to know, Yoongi,” Jungkook speaks from the older’s lap, eyes closed as the wind messes his hair up. “Because I’d never hurt you either.”
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cozywine · 4 years
Text
More than Once pt. 2
Spencer Reid/OC
TW: none
_____________________________________
After one of the longest weeks of Dana’s life, it was finally Friday. It had been one hell of a work week, confronting a serial killer and being asked out by her long-time crush on the same day. She’d also managed to scald the bottom of the office coffeepot on Wednesday afternoon, embarrassing herself in front of a senior agent from counter-terrorism. So that was fun. 
“Ok, Derek. Happy Friday - cookies for everyone.” She said, hoisting a large platter with a variety of treats on it onto the filing cabinet in the center of their desks. She folded up the reusable grocery bag and tossed it onto her desk before pushing up the sleeves of her pink button down.  “Help yourself and please don’t leave any leftovers for me to take home.” She adjusted the french tuck of her shirt into the navy slacks she'd worn, and took a seat on top of a nearby desk with her travel mug of coffee.
“Richie!” Derek exclaimed, rolling his chair over. “Just when I thought you’d forgotten my plea for some sugar. Come to Papa…”
“Of course you think all of those are for you.” Penelope scoffed. “Dana obviously remembered my favorite - peanut butter!”
Dana rolled her eyes, but enjoyed the familiar banter. The rest of the team made their way over. 
“Oh my god, Dana. These look awesome.” said JJ. “Can I take some home for Will and the boys?”
Dana pulled out a separate Tupperware, decorated with Frozen’s Olaf and Sven. “How could I forget Henry and Michael? Apologies in advance for the sugar rush. And please keep the Tupperware - my sister left it at my house a few weeks ago when she and my niece were visiting from Boston.”
“I didn’t know you had a sister!” Derek exclaimed, scooting over to make room for Emily, Rossi and Hotch.  “Older or younger?”
“Two years older, and I have another sister who’s a year younger than me. She lives in Vancouver.” Dana responded, trying to decide if she wanted a chocolate chip or white chocolate cherry cookie. As she contemplated which would go better with her coffee, Spencer walked into the bullpen. He stashed his book in his bag before setting it down at his desk and coming over to see what all the fuss was about. Dana tried not to let her face get too red as he caught her eye and grinned. He looked absolutely adorable, in a dark purple cardigan and navy checked shirt with a matching navy tie. 
“What’s all this for?” Spencer asked, taking a sip of his coffee. 
“Dana brought cookies!” Penelope squealed, tucking a couple into the pocket of her skirt and dashing towards the glass doors. “I’m going to bring one to Kevin… hope that’s ok, sweetie.”
“Yeah, of course Pen. There’s too freaking many, please take several. Get them out of my house!” Dana laughed. “Cooking things and forcing other people to eat them is my love language. See you later!”
Rossi laughed. “You and I have that in common, Richards. Speaking of, we need to plan another family dinner… What’s everyone up to this weekend? Seems like we got lucky with no case.”
“Oh no Rossi, you’ve jinxed it.” Emily groaned. “You know we can’t ever say that on a Friday?!”
“Maybe the good omen of cookies will balance out the bad omen of the L-word on a Friday.” Dana suggested, sitting down on the nearest desk. Spencer nodded, and swallowed the bite of monster cookie he was chewing. 
“I definitely hope so. Besides, most historical omens were things like birds flight patterns, weather, and the movements of certain animals. Not too much on saying the uh, L-word on a Friday. So, nothing should ruin this weekend.” Spencer rambled, speaking quickly and lowering his volume on the last part. He wasn’t quiet enough though and Derek picked up on it. 
“Whats so special about this weekend, Pretty Boy? Do you have plans? Getting a little sugar of your own?”
Spencer blushed, shrugging. “Just looking forward to some time out of the office.” His eyes darted briefly over to Dana and she had to look away as they made contact with her gaze so she wouldn’t blush or smile too big. 
Dana was looking forward to the weekend too. She and Spencer had been walking on eggshells around each other, trying not to tip the team off that they were going out over the weekend. Dana also didn’t want to spoil their first date by spending too much time getting to know each other personally beforehand. Why waste those first conversations by having them in hushed moments over office coffee? She would rather savor the time on Saturday, and was hoping for some sparkly banter, nerdy jokes and stories shared over a glass of wine or decent coffee. She couldn’t wait to find out why he picked the ballet over anything else. Did he like performing arts? What was his favorite book? Favorite movie? Favorite smell? Did that favorite smell remind him of a specific memory? She hoped she’d find out what his hands felt like in hers… maybe what type of kisser he was. Would his lips be soft? She sighed, audibly. 
“Hello…. Earth to Richie. What’s going on in that head of yours, girl?” Derek teased. “Thinking about your weekend plans?”
“Hm, sort of.” she tried to brush off his question, quickly stopped playing with the charm on her necklace and decided to change the subject. “So, team - if you were a cookie, what kind would you be and why?”
“Ooh, a new profiling question. Good one!" JJ laughed. “Hm... A snickerdoodle. I’m sweet and soft, but a little spicy too."
“Ha! You, spicy?” Emily laughed and JJ made a face at her. “I would be… a molasses cookie. Unexpectedly delightful. Rossi, your turn.”
Rossi made the argument that a cannoli counted as a cookie (“Is not,” Dana countered. “That is a pastry!”) and Derek said that he would be a chocolate chip cookie because everyone loves him. 
“Ok then, Spencer… what kind of cookie would you be?” Dana asked, still laughing at Derek. The corners of her eyes were probably crinkling and her cheeks were probably looking round and a little too red, but she tried not to think about it as she waited for him to finish thinking. He looked bewildered, never having considered the idea of his personality reflected in a cookie. “Don’t think too hard, Reid. Your brain might short out.” she teased. 
“Ha Ha, very funny.” He shot back, his tone light and not angry. Almost… flirtatious? “I have no idea what kind of cookie I’d be. All I know is, this one is my favorite.” He held up his third monster cookie. “It has all of my favorite things in it - even pretzels!” Dana laughed, but she felt overwhelmingly pleased that Spencer had said something she made was his favorite. 
“Yeah, I thought you’d appreciate that. All of the snacks, in a convenient handheld package.” Spencer looked overjoyed. She hoped he would always look like that in her presence. 
Hotch had gone back into his office to take a phone call after grabbing a couple of cookies. He popped his head out of the door, looking very stern. 
“Guys!” He exclaimed. “I know we are all excited about the unexpected cookie party, but please… Eat them while working. And don’t forget to say thank you to Richards!”
They all scurried back to their desks to tackle the piles of paperwork that always awaited them during their down time, and Dana went back to counting down the hours until Saturday night. 
______
Saturday morning, and still no case. Sleeping in was utter bliss - Dana hadn’t had a chance to sleep in for weeks and she’d relished the opportunity to go without setting an alarm. The sun peeked in through her bedroom windows and she rolled over to see what time it was. 9:38… not too bad. She hadn’t been able to sleep past 10am in years. 
Grabbing her phone, she scrolled through her notifications… a couple Instagram posts from Penelope, a late night Snapchat from Emily, a video message from her sister… and a voicemail from Spencer Reid. Of course, that was the first thing she listened to. 
“Hey Dana, it’s Spencer. I know we haven’t talked about details for tonight so I wanted to make sure I called and told you what I was thinking… Hopefully you’re still free and hopefully this plan works for you. If you’d like, I can pick you up around 5:00 and we can get drinks and dinner at Billy Sud in Georgetown. The ballet starts at 7:30 so I figure that would give us plenty of time to get to and from and find parking or take the train and everything… Let me know if this sounds good or if you’d rather go somewhere else, I wasn’t sure what sounded good to you but I thought I remembered you and Emily talking about French food a couple of weeks ago so I thought you might like it. Ok, talk to you soon, bye.”
Dana held her phone to her chest, swooning just a tiny bit. She was so excited for this date, it was ridiculous. She’d video chatted with her sisters and planned her outfit the evening prior over a couple glasses of rose, which made her a little tipsy and she may have gushed a bit to them about the sweet, sexy Doctor she was going out with. God, she was such a loser. She didn’t want to keep him waiting, so with butterflies in her stomach she hit the call back button. It rang twice before he answered. 
“Hello?”
“Hi Spencer, it’s Dana.” 
“Dana, hi, how are you?” 
“I’m really good - sorry I missed your call, I took the day off from setting an alarm and just woke up to your message.” She snuggled into the covers. 
“Oh, that’s okay, I figured something like that…”
“Yep. Such a rare occasion to have a weekend off… but yeah, 5:00 sounds perfect. Billy Sud sounds perfect. I think you might actually be a mind reader!” 
She could almost hear him grinning through the phone as he chuckled. “Oh really? Why is that?”
“Well, first,” she started, getting out of bed and sliding on her slippers so she could pace around her apartment while talking on the phone. “You choose the Bolshoi ballet. Romeo and Juliet. An excellent choice, and one of the companies I haven’t actually seen yet. Then, you pick Billy Sud, which has been on my list to try since I moved here. It’s actually pretty close to my apartment.”
“You’re kidding! That’s lucky… or maybe just excellent profiling. Are you in Georgetown?” he asked. 
“Yes.” Dana answered, pouring a cup of coffee. “I’m renting a condo on O street.”
“That’s awesome. I’m actually also in Georgetown but on Q street. It’s a great area, how did you decide on it when you were moving here?”
“I’d been to DC a few times, and usually found myself over this way on the weekends. Plus, it’s a short commute to the office downtown… I figured since we don’t usually have to go down to Quantico unless it’s training days, it would be better to be up here rather than outside the District… That’s weird though that we haven’t run into each other in the neighborhood.”
“Well, I don’t get out much…” Spencer said, sounding a little embarrassed. “I probably spend too much time inside or at the office working.”
“Well then, I’m glad we’re going out.” Dana smiled, sipping her coffee and wincing as some of the steaming brew spilled out of the cup onto her chest. She swore loudly, grabbing a towel. “Oh my god, sorry Spencer… I just spilled my coffee.” He started laughing on the other end of the line. 
“I was so confused! Are you ok? I hope there’s more coffee?”
“Oh yeah, I’m fine. Can’t say the same for my shirt but I’ll live.” She continued mopping up the mess, juggling the phone and the towel. 
“I’ve never heard you swear before. It was kind of hilarious once I knew you weren’t actually in danger… You don’t swear at work.”
“Oh Spencer… I swear like a sailor outside the office. I mean, only when things are really stressful or surprising I guess? I’m still on my best behavior around everyone… it’s only been 6 months and I really love the job and I just really want to do well, you know? I don’t want to be unprofessional or too casual just yet, you know?”
“That’s probably a good idea. Hotch is a stickler for that sort of thing. I don’t want to talk too much about work since you know, this is a personal call and we spend so much time at work anyway, but… you’re doing a good job. I think you’ve impressed everyone.”
“Even you, Dr. Reid?”
“Of course. One of the first things I noticed about you was how quick you picked up on how the team works and figured out the best questions to ask to get us out of our comfort zones. It’s a really essential skill and I don’t know, it just made me realize how sharp you are. Then one day you were dropping Shakespeare references and models of persuasion theory in the same sentence and I don’t know… I was smitten.”
She felt like her heart would leap out of her chest. “I am so glad this is a phone call. You should see my face. That is so sweet and so embarrassing all at once… Was that the first thing you noticed about me?”
Spencer coughed. “Um, no, it wasn’t the first thing I noticed… one of the first but uh, no. Not the literal first. Now I’m the one who’s glad this is a phone call.”
“Ooh, can’t wait to ask you more about this tonight.” Dana teased. “But fair is fair. I’ll own up to my first impression as well.”
“Ok then. Then we’re even. Well I guess I should let you get back to your coffee. What’s your address?”
She gave it to him, and provided instructions for the finicky buzzer system at her building before saying goodbye. She was feeling more excited and less nervous for their date. He was adorable, even over the phone. Dana finished her coffee, perused the fridge and decided to go for a quick jog to a local breakfast spot. Getting out of the house would help make sure she didn’t spend the entire day mooning about waiting for 5:00 to arrive. 
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