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#Wednesday Y/N is on every God’s Hit List after they learned she has all these abilities
justamegafan · 2 years
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Record of Ragnarok Special #1
About Wednesday Y/N
Wednesday Y/N was born before the fall of Adam and Eve, and was actually born in heaven, which granted her some unique abilities (Those of which she kept to herself, with only Adam, Eve, her Brothers and later Brunhilde know about)
1. She is able to harm the gods without the need of a weapon (The reason for this is unknown, but it’s believed that because she was born IN Heaven/Paradise her body developed this ability) however, she kept the knowledge of this ability to herself since she has no trust with the Gods (She didn’t want to hurt their egos yet with this knowledge) as she’s the only Human that has this skill
2. She can communicate with animals, but prefers to communicate with the more… dangerous/scary animals than the cute/pretty ones (She prefers to call them her ‘Minions/Subordinates’) as all the known dangerous, scary and poisonous animals are very friendly with Y/N
3. She has Visions, though it’s unknown why she has this power, but Y/N admits her first vision was when the Serpent was going to assault Eve and put her on trial for eating the Forbidden Fruit (And is currently using her Visions to
Y/N is known as ‘The Black Sheep of Humanity’, and it’s believed her birth is the reason for all the ‘Evil’ and ‘Darkness’ within Humanity (Which she finds to be a compliment rather than an insult)
Y/N also finds the idea of Cain killing Able ‘Ridiculous’ since she sees Cain ‘Not having what it takes to be a Murder’ (Which is considered an insult if Y/N says it)
Y/N, despite being over 7 Million Years old, and older than Humanity, she calls the Human Fighters her ‘Uncles’ (And her favorite ‘Uncle’ is ‘Uncle Jack’, as he’s the only one who can make her smile)
Y/N is nicknamed ‘The Elder Sister of Humanity’, as she is in reality the firstborn child of Adam and Eve, but kept to herself, so the records about her aren’t known in Human History
Y/N after her death, has taken the appearance of the age she and her mother and father were casted out of heaven, which is that of a 14-16 year old
Y/N is nicknamed by Brunhilde as ‘The Child who despises the Gods more than Anything’ and her ‘Ace Card’ with her ability to harm the Gods without the need to use a Valkyrie an incredibly valuable skill for a Human to have
There’s a joke between the Gods that Y/N must be Poseidon’s Child, as they’re very similar in personality (Which Poseidon doesn’t find that funny)
Y/N is musically talented, as she plays the Cello very well (Hermes started to pester her after learning about her musical gift), has great fighting skills too, as well as very intelligent and sort of a detective
Y/N has a morbid fascination with death and macabre, deadpan wit and dry can possibly do witchcraft, has other hidden
Despite Y/N being cold blooded and emotionally reserved, she cares deeply for those important to her (As she reveals that after the death of Nero, her beloved pet Scorpion by some Deity Children, she vowed to never show weakness or cry, and hasn’t after 7 Million Years) like her brothers, father and mother and the Human Fighters
Y/N has Thing with her, but no one, not even the Gods known where Thing even came from (She has Thing do spy work for her, mainly to spy on the Gods to one-up them in future rounds)
Y/N is unafraid of death, gore, murder and the gods, as Loki is incapable of scaring her (She also likes to write in her spare time and wrote dozens upon dozens of novels, but they haven’t been published because of they’re too ‘gratuitously morbid and dark’)
SPOILERS for her final ability! (If you haven’t watched the Wednesday Show)
Y/N’s final special ability is her ability to revive/heal herself if she’s about to die, however there’s a price, one of her Descendants must be willing to sacrifice their soul to go to Niflhel for Y/N to live (The Gods find this ability to be outrageous)
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rudysrings · 4 years
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TEACH ME
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The lifeguard at the beach yesterday inspired me to write this...y’all tell me that’s 👆👆👆not JJ!!!!
Summary: The reader has to train a new lifeguard, a certain blonde who can’t seem to stop hitting on her.
Word count: 4.1k (Holy shit what did I do)
Warnings: Uh mentions of drowning, weed, fluff? Not much this is really just a sweet oneshot
Credit to @alexa-playafricabytoto for the killer idea...I don’t think I did it justice but here we go anyways 😂
DISCLAIMER: I don’t know shit about lifeguards and was too lazy to do research so this it’s extremely likely that this is HIGHLY inaccurate and I’m sorry about that but just go with it for fanfic purposes, eh?
“Hey, Y/N!” Mr. Rodriguez, your manager called out for you from his office in the beach’s visitor center. You had just clocked in, still in your jean shorts and tank. 
You quickly walked over, popping your head in the doorway of his office. Seated in front of him, you noticed, was a blond in a red snapback, a Kildare County Marina T-shirt on. “Yeah, boss?” You asked.
He gave you a rare, sweet smile, gesturing for you to sit down. 
Confused, you cautiously walked over, sliding into the empty chair beside the blonde boy. You felt him glance at you but you looked straight at your manager.
“So Kyle’s out on some family emergency this week…” Your manager started.
You scoffed inwardly but didn’t say anything out loud for the sake of being professional. Kyle’s family emergency was most likely him passed out and hungover after a night of drinking, smoking and a shit ton of coke or molly or acid or whatever he was taking these days. 
“And seeing as he was your partner and was supposed to train the newbie,” Mr. Rodriguez continued, gesturing towards the boy beside you, “So meet JJ Maybank, your new partner until I decide he’s learned enough from you.”
Your beach’s lifeguards worked on a partner system, due to its size. There were always two lifeguards in every tower to maintain maximum security.
You tried not to groan. JJ Maybank? Of all the people in the world, you had to get stuck with the one notorious for recklessness, theft, and starting fights? Of fucking course, you did.
“Right,” You nodded, giving your manager a tight-lipped smile, maintaining your politeness while subtly letting him know you were not happy with the cards you had just been dealt.
Again, without looking at JJ, you stood up, your hands on your hips. “When do we start?” You asked.
“Right now.”
You nodded, turning on your heel and calling over your shoulder. “You coming, Maybank?”
You heard shuffling as he followed after your long strides. You grabbed a rescue buoy for yourself and tossed one to JJ, who caught it with ease. You walked toward the front desk, smiling at Cheri, one of the receptionists your own age who was always nice to you, letting you get away with things she probably shouldn’t have. Picking up two whistles, you walked out the door and finally greeted the boy.
“So you lifeguard now?” 
He shrugged. “I do whatever to pay for my pot.” 
You rolled your eyes, walking down the beach towards your assigned tower for the day. “I can respect that.”
“So there are a few things you should know,” You began, to which JJ listened intently.
“I figure Rodriguez has already been through the list of your duties?” You raised an eyebrow in question.
JJ nodded. “Thoroughly. He doesn’t think I’ve a single brain cell, that man. He tried to draw me a picture of the lifeguard tower.”
You held in a smile. “If you ask me, he’s right to think that,” you quipped, making JJ pout.
“Anyways, apart from that, you need to know a few other things that are kind of unwritten. For example, don’t bother telling people to get off the rocks, just be ready to save them if they fall.”
JJ wrinkled his brows. “The fuck kind of rule is that? Not even going to warn people?”
You shrugged. “Unless you want to make a scene with a bunch of Karens shouting at you for dictating rules on a public beach, then you’ll do as I say.”
JJ grumbled. ‘Yes, ma’am.”
“Bob your head every once in a while so you don’t miss the people right below you.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Keep the buoy on you wherever you go.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And lastly, don’t ever think someone is faking anything. Doesn’t matter if your friend is pranking you, we gotta do what we gotta do. We have to save every last imbecile on this beach.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Frustrated, You turned towards him, stopping in the sand, one hand on your hip. “Oh, shut your trap with that ma’am nonsense, Maybank. Trust me, you lucked out with getting me as a partner over Kyle—”
JJ nodded. “I sure did, guy’s a total tool. Besides, hot girl over junkie guy,” he whistled low, “no debate there.”
You tried not to blush at JJ calling you hot, but you felt the tips of your ears turn pink.
“Right, well, you can’t be hitting on me while we’re working together, Maybank.”
“Why not?”
You stepped forward, poking him in the chest. “Because you’ve known me since we were kids, yet we’ve never spoken. So don’t go pretending that I’m not invisible anymore.”
JJ frowned. 
You turned, “Come on, there’s work to do.”
One the two of you climbed up the tower, you put on your whistle and gestured for JJ to lean forward, so that you could toss it over his neck. He did so, accidentally knocking his forehead on yours. “Sorry,” he mumbled, stepping away. 
As he settled in, you stripped your shorts and tank, now left in your ruby red lifeguard one piece.
Today was slow, being a Wednesday off-season, and JJ tried to start a conversation. He pulled out a joint and offered it to you. 
You gave him an “Are you kidding me,” look and he shrugged, unbothered, lighting it up and taking a long hit. “So what’s Keith really doing if he’s not having a family emergency?”
“Kieth? You mean Kyle?”
JJ nodded. “Right, him.”
You laughed dryly, “Probably wrecked after popping ten too many pills and sleeping with a few too many girls. Guy doesn’t know when to stop.”
JJ didn’t look at you, looking out at the sea. “So when did you two break it off?”
“What—We—” You spluttered.
JJ took another long inhale from the joint. “It’s easy to see, babe.”
“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” you snapped, pulling down your sunglasses from atop your head, hoping to hide the emotions that were most definitely swimming in your eyes. 
“S’not, I know,”
“Then why ask?”
“Just curious as to how a girl like you ended up with a douche like him.”
You were quiet for a moment, before you said, “He wasn’t always like this.”
“Only doing coke, not into molly yet?” JJ joked.
You chuckled. “No, not like that. He was incredibly kind, he had the biggest heart.” You fingered the wood on the arm of your chair.
“Then what happened?”
“Then his mom died, and I wasn’t enough.” Your hand retreated into your lap. 
“He dump you?”
Your eyes narrowed. “No, I dumped him. I’m smart enough to know when I’m getting less than I deserve.”
JJ hummed. “I think I have a chance then.”
You laughed. “You’ve got nothing more than wishful thinking, Maybank.”
“Come to the kegger tonight. I’ll show you wishful thinking.”
You almost gasped at his forwardness. “No, you idiot.”
He turned towards you, meeting your eyes, pleading. You didn’t relent. 
“Fine, miss, I’ll just let you keep that stick up your ass then.”
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”
When lunch came around, you let him go first, and when he returned, smelling of way too much weed, you asked, “You mind if I catch some waves? Think you can hold your own for a half hour?”
JJ gave a toothy grin. “Hell yeah, and watch you ride those waves? It’s going to be hard for me to watch anything but you.”
You smacked him over the head. “Do your job or we’ll both be in trouble, Maybank.”
You grabbed your board and climbed down, racing across the sand towards the water. Finally, you let yourself relax, sinking into the waves as they came. You even caught yourself doing a couple tricks, unconsciously trying to impress the blonde boy who was watching you from the tower. You felt high as a kite when you even managed to successfully execute several cutbacks in a row. You thought you heard a celebratory whistle from the direction of the tower and you jokingly gave a salute towards the beach.
As you climbed back up, JJ cheered. “Holy shit! I knew you were good, but god damn, Y/N! You gotta teach me how to do that Rodeo Flip! I’ve been trying to get it down for years!”
You laughed. “We’ll see, Maybank.”
His hands tugging at his hair in excitement, he asked, “How are you not going pro?!”
You shrugged. “I don’t do it for sport. It’s just something I do for me.”
JJ nodded, a renewed look of respect in his eyes. “Word.”
You spent the rest of your shift laughing at the ridiculous tourists on the beach, especially the ones that forgot sunblock.
You told JJ to go on ahead of towards the visiting center as you had a couple of things left to tidy up. 
When you returned, he was chatting up Cheri, a thousand watt smile on her face as she enjoyed the attention from the pretty blonde.
You rolled your eyes, shoving past them to dump your equipment and clock out. You didn’t know what that bubbling feeling in your abdomen was, or why your stomach lurched at the thought of Cheri and JJ, or maybe you did, but you chose not to think about it too hard, afraid of the conclusion you’d come to.
As you walked out of the visitor center, turning towards home, you heard JJ call your name. You stopped, closing your eyes and muttering a silent prayer for the patience to deal with this boy.
He jogged out, making his way to you. “Hey!” He greeted, out of breath.
“Here to give me another half-assed invite to some kegger?” You asked.
JJ frowned, shaking his head. “No, I just wanted to clarify something you said this morning. You-You said that I thought you were invisible, because we’ve never spoken.”
“And?” you didn’t see where he was going with this other than to insult you.
“We’ve never spoken because I had the biggest crush on you Y/N. I’ve avoided you everywhere. You were hardly invisible to me. If anything, I didn’t think you saw me.”
You laughed. “Sure, Maybank.”
JJ shuffled his feet, shoving his hands in his pockets. “It’s true,” he mumbled.
You smiled, “Have fun at the kegger, JJ.” You gave him a peck on the cheek before walking off into the night, the darkness hiding your flaming cheeks. 
You heard a celebratory whoop from behind you and bit your lip as you smiled. 
Your heart felt light all week as you got closer to your partner. He was actually great at his job, especially with the children patrons on the beach, which greatly surprised you. 
You remembered one day in the middle of the week, when you were dropping your equipment off, JJ didn’t have his whistle. 
When you asked about it, he simply laughed. “This kid near the docks kept pestering me for it. Little guy wanted to be a junior lifeguard. Couldn’t say no…”
It was at the end of the week when you met his friends, the infamous, self-proclaimed pogues.
The trio had shown up near the end of your shift, claiming to be curious of the job that JJ actually managed to keep for longer than a day. JJ saw them approaching and immediately swore, turning towards you to say, “I’m going to apologize now for what you’re about to experience.”
Before you could ask what that meant, he had left, climbing down the towers to stop his friends from reaching you. 
Confused, you made your way down, too, watching as a boy with shaggy brown hair clapped JJ over the back, ruffling his hair aggressively. “So this is what you’ve been missing out on pogue days for?”
A dark haired boy, who looked nervous about simply existing, added, “Not what, who,” nodding at you, standing with your arms crossed over your chest and an eyebrow cocked. 
JJ had a permanent blush on his face, but you couldn’t puzzle out why. Meanwhile, you received a slightly reserved smile from the girl holding hands with the nervous boy. She waved politely. 
The boy with shaggy hair marched forward, arms wide open to give you a hug. You thrust your hand out on instinct, which he looked at like a difficult algebra equation, before brushing it away gently and pulling you into his tight embrace. The boy gave great hugs, you had to admit. The kind of tight bear hugs you expect from your mom. 
You laughed nervously, patting him on the back and looking over his shoulder at the other three, who all laughed. JJ mouthed I’m sorry at you and you responded with I’m going to kill you.
When he finally let you go, he tussled your hair and said, “Nice to meet the girl who’s got my boy tripping over his own feet to get to work. I’m John B.”
You flicked your eyes over to JJ, who was as red as a tomato. He buried his face in Pope’s shoulder, muttering something. You snorted. “Hardly. I’m Y/N.”
The dark haired boy grinned, “Trust me, we know. I’m Pope and this is Kie,” he introduced himself and what you assumed was his girlfriend.
In the next hour, you learned that JJ’s friends were loud, blunt and lacked basic manners in some ways, but they were youthful and thick as thieves, clearly a family. 
There was something warm about Pope, something that allowed you to trust him immediately, completely. So when the other three were surfing, and he joined you on the sand, asking you, “So are you feelin’ my boy or what?”, you weren’t afraid to be completely honest.
Giving a short laugh at his bluntness, you admitted, “I don’t really know. There could be something there. There is something there, I think.”
“Then what’s stopping you?”
You would feel pathetic to confess this to anybody else, but Pope seemed like he wouldn’t judge you if you admitted to having three children. “I don’t know if we want the same things. I don’t see a guy like that in a serious relationship. Doesn’t seem like the type to settle.”
Pope grinned. “You know him well, then.”
Your heart fell as you thought that Pope was confirming your fears.
“But not well enough, I think. You’d be surprised. He’s kind of...obsessed with you. But not in the “Pokemon gotta catch ‘em all!” kind of way. He doesn’t see you as some sort of spiky eared Pichu…”
He trailed off and you looked at him, absolutely baffled. “I’m sorry...I don’t follow?”
Pope cleared his throat. “He likes you, Y/N, like really respects you and wants to make you happy. Any fool can see that.”
You were sure your entire body was on fire with how hard you flushed. “Oh.”
“Yeah, oh. Well, you keep him on his toes so we don’t mind. And it’s made him a little softer, a little more careful, which we definitely don’t mind. He needs to be checked, that one.”
Pope stood up, reaching his hand out and pulling you up. “Now, JJ tells me you have a killer cutback. Wanna show me?” He asks.
You give him a big smile, grateful for his kind words and ability to seamlessly bring you back to reality from that heavy conversation. “I’d love to. If you can keep up!” 
Laughing, Pope followed you into the ocean, JJ giving you an excited smile as you joined him in the water, content to see you getting along with his family.
Later that night, when his friends left, and JJ was helping you towel off your hair while shaking his own like a wet dog, making you giggle and shriek at the sensation, he asked, “You wanna actually catch some waves outside of this beach sometime?” 
It was your conversation with Pope earlier that gave you the confidence to say, “How about tomorrow? It’s our day off…”
“I’ll pick you up before dawn then?”
You nodded, “Sounds perfect.”
He tossed you your towel, casually throwing an arm over your shoulder as the two of you walked back to the visitor’s center.
The next morning, you were a mess. JJ had never seen you in anything aside from your lifeguard uniform and you nearly lost your mind trying to figure out what to wear. You felt like a middle schooler deciding what to wear on the first day of school to impress their crush. 
Eventually, you thought to hell with it, and just went with a blue romper over your swimsuit, letting your hair down for once.
You didn’t bother with makeup since you were planning to get soaked anyways. 
When you heard the distinct sound of a large engine approaching, you walked out of your house, curious.
When the image of JJ on a dirt bike came into focus, you couldn’t help the cackle that tittered out of your mouth. 
He slowed down to a complete stop in front of your driveway, swinging his leg over and walking up to you, spinning the key ‘round his finger.
“Hey, dude!” He greeted, sweeping you up in an unexpected hug. Still, you melted into his frame, letting your usually rigid spine relax, feeling JJ nuzzle into your shoulder slightly and sighing.
You pulled away after a moment and JJ rubbed the back of his neck shyly, shuffling his feet awkwardly. “Sorry, I-uh, I really needed that today.” This boy was touch-starved. 
You patted his chest as you walked towards the dirt bike. “S’alright, it happens to the best of us.”
JJ followed you. “You ever ridden one of these before?”
You cocked your head at him. “Oh yeah, all the time.”
He looked surprised, before handing you the keys and raising his eyebrows in challenge. “Prove it.”
You simply smirked and mounted the bike, pretending you didn’t hear JJ mumble “That’s hot,” under his breath. Instead, you started the engine and nodded at him to get on behind you.
JJ smiled before climbing on behind you, scooching forward until every inch of your back was flush against his front. 
“Let’s go, babe!” You said, before taking off down the street. 
JJ gave you directions, steering you into areas of the Cut you had never been, which was saying something since you knew this town like the back of your hand.
Finally, he pulled up to a small cove, where you saw a small patch of sand. It was the farthest land towards the sea, meaning you would probably find the biggest waves.
“Holy shit, how did I not know this place existed?”
JJ grinned, bringing you to a small shack where a couple of boards were hidden from view in the foliage. 
He handed you a board. “I’m full of surprises. Your hair smells nice, by the way.”
“Stop that!” You laughed.
“Stop what?”
You slapped him over the head. “Making me blush.”
“Don’t think I will.”
You rolled your eyes and simply unzipped your romper, ignoring the whistle from JJ as you stepped out in only your swimsuit. You laid the fabric over the handle of his dirt bike and turned towards him. He was still in his T-shirt and swim trunks.
“Aren’t you going to take your shirt off?”
JJ gave a shit-eating grin, “My, my, Y/L/N, at least take a guy to dinner first.”
You shoved at his chest. “No, you dumbass, I meant you can’t surf in that.”
JJ opened his mouth as if to say something before pausing and wrinkling his nose. “It’s just not a good idea for me today.”
“What did you eat a little too much? I can promise I’m not afraid of a food baby, Maybank, I can deal.”
JJ tried explaining before just giving up and pulling his shirt off, leaving you shocked and incredibly confused, not to mention concerned.
Bruises littered his body, beginning at his shoulder and ending far below his ribs. Involuntarily, your hand brushed his skin. “What the fuck happened, JJ?”
He shrugged. “S’my Dad, you know. Gets angry sometimes is all.”
You shook your head sadly. “You don’t deserve that.”
JJ laughed darkly. “That’s up for debate.”
You stomped your foot. “No, it’s absolutely not! No one deserves that, especially not you.”
JJ softened. “You really think so?”
“Of course I do.”
He gave a small smile. “So you won’t make fun of me for not being able to keep up with you today? It’s only because I got my ass kicked, otherwise I’d surf circles around you all day.”
His words made you frown, but you recognized the coping mechanism and simply said, “Oh sure, Maybank. You know as well as I do that there’s not a world where you can surf better than me.”
He shrugged, walking towards the water. “I can sure as hell try, babe!”
Surfing with JJ was an experience on some whole other level. Sharing a wave was something even the most experienced surfers didn’t attempt, but something in you trusted JJ and the two of you tried it out. It was absolutely surreal, until JJ didn’t resurface.
Your euphoric smile quickly turned into a panicked cry. “JJ? JJ?!” You looked around and caught sight of him hanging on to his board, eyes closed. You swiftly untied your board from your ankle and swam over to him, pulling him towards you. He was like dead weight. You dragged him over to the shore and dumped him there, immediately leaning down to check his pulse. 
You felt it clear as day, but tears filled your eyes. “JJ! Wake up!”
You began chest compressions immediately. Before you even got to ten, however, you heard a giggle. 
Bewildered, you looked at his smiling face, his amused blue eyes laughing at you.
You instantly flinched away, retreating from him. “You were faking?”
JJ nearly choked on his laughter. “You-you should have—” He tried to breathe through the guffaws “—seen your face! Priceless!”
You slapped at his chest with your fists as he sat up, ignoring his slight winces given his prior injuries. “Ay, ay what’s up with that! Stop it, Y/N!”
“You bastard! I thought you were dying!”
JJ softened, before holding the back of your neck and pulling you towards him, leaning in to capture your lips with his. It was sweet and short and he pulled away quickly, asking. “Was that alright?”
You shook your head, pouting. “No, another!” 
He smiled, but gave in to your pleas gleefully, his other hand coming over the front of your neck, pulling you closer to him by your throat. You bit his lip harshly, still angry from the stunt he had just pulled and his whined quietly, moving his hand down your spine, hands brushing the bare skin that your swimsuit exposed. 
He lay back, pulling you on top of him. You straddled him, allowing him to deepen the kiss. You didn’t realize how much you had wanted this until you were doing it. You were kissing JJ Maybank. And it felt right. It felt as right as surfing did, maybe even better, you dared to think. 
Maybe it was the fact that he kissed you like he had all the time in the world and didn’t care, because he was hungry right now. Maybe it was how he held you like he was afraid you would let go. Maybe it was how he managed to wordlessly beg for your skin on his, clearly touch-starved. Whatever it was, it solidified the growing feelings you had for the blonde, blossoming into something new, something stronger, something better, until you couldn’t hear any of your own thoughts other than his name--over, and over and over again. 
When you finally broke that time, you smiled into his neck, trying to catch your breath. “Wow,” sighed JJ, “That was some kiss, babe. If you kiss me like that forever, I’ll die a happy man.”
You giggled, but sat up slightly, flicking his nose. You knew you had to get this awful, insecure doubt of yours out of your mouth right now before you let it fester into something that could ruin this beautiful thing you were creating with JJ. “If you ever break my heart, JJ, I swear to God, you better not cheat on me.”
He frowned. “Wouldn’t dream of it. I’ve wanted this forever. Can’t fuck it up now.”
You smiled, bending down for another kiss. JJ stopped you. “Wait. While we’re making promises, let me just say, if you ever get back with Kyle, I will sue.”
You thought the whole town probably heard your laugh then.
K so not my best work but hope y’all liked it!
Tagging @rretrophilee @jjsbxtch @drewsephsmiles @uwubonebabie bc we talked about it! You don’t have to read if you don’t want to lol 💛
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toomanyfandoms02 · 4 years
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Tap Tap Tap // Spencer Reid x Reader
Summary ~ Three little taps becomes something much more when his best friend is in the clutches of an unsub.
Spencer Reid × Reader
Word Count ~ 2.4K
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SPENCER
Y/n had discussed with me many times that she knew what she was getting into with this kind of job. She had been used as a human shield by unsubs, along as a sedutive measure for many male unsubs (and one female). But she had yet to go through something unmatchable to the rest, more traumatic.
But I guess it had to happen sometime, huh?
Y/n was an amazing profiler and agent. She always wanted the best for people. This also meant she was often getting in trouble for trying to take things into her own hands.
We had a few suspects for this particular case, but it was clear y/n wasn't convinced that any of them were the right ones. She was very smart and stubborn, and she definitely wasn't going to stand for convicting an innocent. Since this was all going on in Vorginia, she had told me that she felt responsible to keep everyone here safe, she didn't want any more people in our home state being murdered or injured because "She couldn't figure out a seemingly simple case."
Wednesday morning was pretty normal. I had come in early and was sitting at the round table, reading 'War and Peace.' For the twelfth time. The rest of the team began piling in. I looked up from my book, peering around the table. I wasn't being teased for reading War and Peace, where was y/n?
"Has anyone spoken to y/n this morning?" Hotch asked, leaning further onto the table. Everyone shook their heads. My heart dropped into my stomach, where is she? I immediately scrambled to my feet, exiting the room and calling her.
It went straight to voicemail.
I ran my hand through my hair, trying to pull myself together, calmly walking back to the room.
"I'm going to her house to check on her. Is anyone coming with me?" JJ grabbed my jacket, throwing it to me. Hotch nodded at me as we began to leave.
I was always a careful driver, speeding actually killed around 10,000 people last year. But this was important, I had to know she was okay. I could tell JJ was on edge by the way she was gripping the seat and looking out the window.
Once we arrived I knocked softly on her door. JJ was going to all the windows to see if she could see inside, any sign of struggle. Once she came back around the house, I fished the spare key that I have from my pocket, I carried it with me everywhere.
"Do you, have a key to her house?" She smiled, clearly trying to lighten the situation.
"She gave it to me a few months ago, she said I could come over any time."
"If you wanted to come over any time, you could just knock."
"She was also worried something like this would happen, and she wanted me be the one to quote on quote 'save her' if the situation had risen. She trusts me." She smiled and shrugged, pushing me into the house.
It didn't take much searching before we found a file on a man named 'Carl Desmond'.
"Here. It says that he had 3 siblings. All three have restraining orders against him, but it's not listed why. That's probably why she was so suspicious of him. He could be taking these kids and reliving a childhood life with them. Three kids at a time. I'm not seeing anything on his address." I quickly dialed Garcia. "Garcia can you look for an address on Carl Desmond and send someone there? JJ and I are going to keep looking around the house."
"Yes of course." Cue the sound of vigorous typing. "It looks like he currently resides on 162 Bradbury Lane. I'll let Morgan know."
"Thank you Garcia." As soon as I set my phone down it began to ring again. "Reid."
"It's Morgan. I really think you guys should come back, you need to see something." I grabbed the file and left the house.
I let JJ drive back this time, I was a little out of focus and I didn't want to put us both in danger.
Once we arrived I rushed into the conference room, where I saw everyone but Hotch sitting patiently.
"We sent Hotch to Carl's address." Morgan began fiddling with the projector. "This was sent to Penelopes computer a bit ago. She's really trying to figure out where it came from but it's proving to be pretty difficult." He clicked a button and a distraught, and tied up y/n was presented on the screen. There was a deep voice that came from behind the camera.
"You have five minutes. Say your goodbyes."
"He has sympathy." I said, tapping my foot.
"Hi guys. I'm alright." She was shaking, and clearly not alright. I stepped closer to the screen. "I just wanted tell you guys some things. Garcia, please never stop being a ball of sunshine, I don't know what I would do if you changed. You make everyones day better. And tell Kevin that if he breaks your heart, I'll haunt him." My I could feel the air caught in my throat, I knew she meant that as a funny morbid joke, typical of her. But I didn't even want to open my mind to the possiblity of her death. She doesn't believe she is getting out of this.
Penelope began to cry, "Of course baby."
"Morgan, I admire you so much. You have so much drive and motivation, it's inspiring. Whoever replaces me, make sure you inspire them just as much as you do me." Morgan sat down slowly, nodding.
"Hotch. I couldn't have asked for a better leader. I knew I could come to you with anything and you will help me with it. Thank you for everything." He tried to remain unphased, but I could see the hurt in his eyes.
"Emily, I'm sorry that I had to leave right as you got back. I never got to tell you how much I missed you, because I missed you so much. Can you take care of bink bink? Her and Sergio can have kittens together." Emily was now laughing through her tears.
"Rossi you have been an amazing mentor. I have learned so much from you, and I wish I could cram my brain with more cases you were willing to tell me about." Even Rossi looked emotional.
"JJ, please make sure Spence is ok when I'm gone." JJ close dher eyes, squeezing her fists shut. "Don't let him do something stupid. I can't watch him struggle again."
"And Spence. God, I don't even know what to say. You are my best friend, I never wanted this to happen. I wish that yesterday when I stopped you mid-fact telling, because I was looking over a case, I wish I would have let you tell me about the wonders of mountain goats for the rest of the 7 hour flight. You never fail to amaze me. I know, and everyone knows, that you're a genius. But it still baffles me how much you can fit in that head of yours. Never stop rambling about what makes you happy. It's your best trait." I felt a tear slip from my eye, I was now sitting. Listening closely to every word she said.
"I love you all so so much. You are the best family I could have ever asked for. Thank you for everything." I looked down at her hand, she tapped three times on the arm of the chair. That sent me into a fit of sobs.
*"Ok, so how do you feel about I love you's?"*
*"The three-word phrase is laden with all sorts of meaning; saying it signals that we're officially committed, we prioritize one relationship over the rest."*
*"Of course you would know so much about the phrase." She playfully rolled her eyes, shifting into her other foot. "Listen I say I love you, or love you, a lot. And a lot of times it is to my friends. Now, the whole team already thinks that we are dating or something." My cheeks flushed at the statement. "But I do love you Spence, and I thought we could make up a silent code thing for me to say it!" She smiled giddily. "So, if I tap you three times like this." She tapped my shoulder rhythmically, "It means. I. Love. You."*
*"I actually think that's very creative. Ancient scripts and languages have been understood using decoding and deciphering techniques, most famously the Rosetta Stone of Ancient Egypt. In fact, codes and ciphers have determined the outcome of politics and wars throughout history. There are thousands of types of hidden messages." I rambled a little, having just read about some kinds of codes last week.*
*"Well look at us, making history." She smiled, tapping my hand three times playfully*
After that, y/n would tap me three times before going into any dangerous situation. Or whenever we would hug. She even made me a little keychain that read *tap,tap,tap*.
"I'm sorry." Was the last thing she said before the video ended.
"The guy who has y/n is the unsub. She was onto him, and he took her. She probably went to find him and he took her." I was trying to pull myself out of the state I was in. I knew they wouldn't let me help.
"We sent SWAT to Carl's house and no one is there. They are investigating further now." Hotch relayed his information to us. I slid the file from y/n's house over to him.
"This is what she had on him."
"Garcia, search for relatives of Mr. Desmond. They may know any alternate locations he visits."
We had gathered many family members numbers, the last one we were calling was his aunt.
"Hello?"
"Hi is this Miss Melanie Desmond? My name is Spencer Reid, I'm with the FBI."
"What's this about?"
"I'm calling to speak to you about your nephew Carl. We believe he may be involved in a string of kidnappings. We cannot locate him at his home. Does he stay at any other place?" I had just a hint of hope in my voice.
"He sometimes tidys things up at his parents farm. My sister died 2 months ago, so he's been taking care of it. I can give you the address." That must have been the stressor.
"Yes please."
Once jotting the address down. I texted it to the team and began on my route to the farm.
It was only about 25 minutes away. 15 minutes in, Morgan and JJ were caught up with me, driving right behind me.
Once we hit the driveway, my nerves were through the roof. I didn't want to walk in on my best friend dead. I just wanted to hug her ~and kiss her~ and tell her everything was going to be ok.
I nearly stumbled out of the car, heading into the house with Morgan while JJ and Emily started off to the barn.
Morgan kicked the door down, announcing that the FBI was here. I immediately noticed blood on the white tile floor of the house. My stomach churned at the sight.
"Carl Desmond?" I called into the house. I heard light footsteps coming from a room over. Once I turned the corner I could see y/n laying sideways on the floor, still tied to her chair. Morgan motioned me in there as he continued to search the house.
"I'm going to need a medic in the house, but don't send anyone yet, I'm not sure if it's safe." I spoke into my mic. I shook her shoulder a bit.
Nothing.
I put my finger against her neck, feeling for a pulse. It was there, and stronger than I had expected. I began cutting the ropes around her wrists and ankles. I scooped my arms under her weak frame and pulled her into my lap.
"Y/n? Please be okay." I shook her shoulder a little, trying to lightly wake her and not scare her.
"Spence?" She looked up at me with squinting eyes. She sat up quickly, wincing and holding her head.
"Woah woah slow down, you probably have a concussion, don't move too fast." I held my hand behind her head. She pushed forward, throwing her arms around me.
"I knew you would find me, I just wasn't sure I would be here for it." I could feel her tears on my shirt. She tapped my back three times.
"I love you too." She pulled back, looking at me with a crooked smile. "I don't care who hears it anymore. Everyone can know I love you. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. You always want to her me talk about random facts, even if you have no idea what I'm talking about. When I'm sick of people asking me if I 'can actually read that fast' you tell them everything about me, proudly. I love you, so much." She leaned her forehead on mine.
"Thank god." She leaned forward a bit and connected our lips. I could taste the tears that she had shed for hours and even in the past few minutes. Some tears were even sliding down my cheeks. Even though I didn't have much to cry about now. My everything was back in my arms.
"I knew it! Pretty boy and y/n! Get it man! Hey y/n remember that dream you told me about?" Morgan winked, coming around the corner with a cuffed Carl Desmond. Trailing along with the three missing children. I almost jumped away but y/n kept a tight hold on me.
"Shut up Derek." She growled, furrowing her eyebrows at him.
"What dream?"
"Nope, we aren't talking about this right now. Can you carry me to the medics?" She flashed me a cheesy smile.
I shook my head at her with a smile. I leaned down and kissed her one more time. "You really are lucky I love you." I picked her up bridal style, taking her to the ambulance where there was a medic waiting to help her. I noticed multiple smirks from the team. I set down, wrapping a blanket around her.
"So, a dream, huh?"
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shaydeoffical · 5 years
Text
Bright as a Diamond. Hitoshi Shinsou x Fem Reader: Chapter Four
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Summary: When (Y/N)’s co-worker decided to send a picture of her making a diamond to the paper, her life was over. Gemstone based quirks weren’t all that rare, but being able to make a diamond put a target on her back. After years of hiding in the city, it’s time to hide in the countryside with her Uncle Shota Aizawa and his more than ‘roommate’ Hizashi Yamada. With the promise of training her to be self-sufficient, she’s ready to learn.
Chapter Three: 
https://ambershaydeoffical.tumblr.com/post/611141904327983104/bright-as-a-diamond-hitoshi-shinsou-x-fem-reader
Chapter Five: https://ambershaydeoffical.tumblr.com/post/612522066443436032/bright-as-a-diamond-hitoshi-shinsou-x-fem-reader
Monday
   My alarm was a few minutes from going off, so I sat in silence, waiting for it to cry out that I had to move. The new mattress was firm enough; I didn't sink but soft enough that it supported my curves. Still, I couldn't fight off the nightmares.
   With the first siren, I had shut down the machine. Grasping my compact, I dabbed concealer under my eyes and applied the thinnest layer of blush I could get by with. Pushing my hair up into a tight bun, I was happy with my minimal look.
   Grabbing my phone, I nearly dropped it to the floor—two thousand unread emails on my school account. My lips formed into an o, and I remembered that I had been the main topic of the Wednesday paper, of course, someone would leak my email.  
   As I scanned the emails, most were for charity auctions. Wanting me to demonstrate how my quirk works, then offer the highest bidder one of my perfect diamonds. Others were from geologists wishing to study how I create crystals from nothing but my body. A few were from people spilling their life story and asking for my help. The list went on and on and on.
   "Shota?" I called my uncle, stumbling, from my room. He was in his sleeping bag on the kitchen floor.
   "Hmm?" he glanced up.
   "Someone leaked my university email." I whimpered, pursing my lips together. "How am I supposed to see what my professors post. People know my school now. Like- I-"
   "Calm down." Shota sat up and took my phone. "Go finish getting ready, and I'll fix it."
   "Yes, sir." I went back to my room, pulled on my tighter pencil skirt, then I remembered. Then I put on a purple blouse and a cute blazer. Of course, the jewelry I wore mattered, so I put the necklace my dad made me under my shirt and placed a simple chain to be visible. Then I positioned some magnetic gold studs and put a gold anklet on over my pantyhose. Before leaving my room, I created ruby, emerald, and a diamond to top it off. With the gems in my hand, I crushed them into fine sand then added them to my jar.
   After that, I brushed my teeth, put on honey inspired perfume, and emptied my bladder. Nothing was going to hold me back from making a sale today. Of course, I preferred being in the background, but I could still rock the front line and make some sales.
   When I was back in the living room, Shota handed me my phone, and as he said, all the spam was gone. "Wow, thank you so much," I beamed, scrolling through my inbox, checking to see if my teachers had any important messages.
   "Breakfast," Hizashi yelled. When I entered the kitchen, there sat none other then Shinso. He was at one end of the table, and Shota took the other. With my nose upturned, I sat across from Hizashi and served myself.
   "Good morning," Shinso greeted me, offering me the dish filled with rice.
   "Hmph," I took the dish and plopped out a portion. "Thank you."  
   "So you were raised with manors," Shinso smirked, then raised a brow.
   "It's too early," I warned, popping my fingers and a rouge opal hitting the table. "Shit."
   "Does that happen often?" Hizashi picked up the dime-sized oval and held it to the light. "It's huge."
   "You're embarrassing me," I reached for the stone, but he kept it arms length. "Let me handle it."
   "This is beautiful, we need to have it made into something. Wow, Shota did you know-"
   "Please give it back." Tears were close to spilling over, but I held it back.  The heads of the table were silently watching. God, they were looking at me. I didn't want Shinso to know. I did-
   "This would look great on my guitar." Hizashi was still in his own mind. I couldn't breathe. Why?
   Trembling, I stood from the table and grabbed my phone. I couldn't glance at any of them, having looked like enough of a brat. "Ya know what, keep it. It will look super cool, just never tell anyone where it came from." I winced but kept walking to the door. I needed to change the wrap on my feet. "I'm going to be late."
   "I was going to drive you," Shota interjected, sitting up.
   "No, thank you. I'm leaving with enough time to make it. Thanks for breakfast." I hadn't eaten more than a few bites, but it didn't matter.
   Leaving like this meant I couldn't make lunch or pack a pocketbook for my money. I had a ten in my pocket and a hankie for the rest of the day. Picking up my bike, I hurdled off the porch getting a good first push. I hadn't gotten much taller since I was fourteen, so the seat was still in a decent position.
   Halfway to the main road, I was low on the breath but kept going. Tears had been free-flowing since I shut the door, but I refused to wipe them away. My quirk was dangerous, my quirk was valuable, my quirk was a double-edged sword. It's not that I cared that Hizashi loved my opal. I was ready to kill myself for losing control and making it. Putting myself in danger was the issue.  
   If that happened in public, I'd be in a huge mess. Hell, it already had happened and had been made public. Now I was in the same position as my father, but maybe even worse. Nothing was worse than the world, knowing my secret.
   I must have been a site when I hit the main road. Tears flowing thicker than sweat. Dressed to kill, while pleading a children's bicycle. As long as no one tried to talk to me, I'd calm down before I had to make a good first impression.
   The nice thing about the jewelry industry is they didn't want me to make jewels. Well, not my personal store, they were more interested in keeping the demand high and supply scarce.  In fact, the article published about me probably hurt some of our customers.  We specialized in ethically sourced gems and offering natures best. I was not nature, I was something else.
   When I finally got to the store, I had five minutes before I was to clock in. I ran into the bathroom and splashed water on my face. My phone buzzed, and a picture of my bike was sent to my phone.
   The number was unknown, so I ignored it. Preceding out of the bathroom with caution, I was meet with my coworker from my last job.  Kira Nara, the boy who blew my quirk out of the closet. He was older than me by around seven years, divorced, and easy enough to get along with.
   "What are you doing here?" I shuffled from one foot to the other, feeling a slight squish. If I could catch a break for even one moment, that would be nice…
   "I transferred too," he grabbed my hand and bowed. "I felt so bad over the whole picture thing, that I wanted to move in solidarity. We are in this together." I could see the black hair on his head was thinning, probably a mix of age and stress. "The shop back home was such a mess after you left. News reports kept dropping by, and all these companies asking for donations. The boss thought it would be good if I came with you."    
   "In other words, since you spilled the beans, everyone wanted to talk to you as well." Kicking the carpet slightly, I pulled my hand free. "Alright, let's make the best of this."
   "So you forgive me?" He lifted from his potion, hanging to every word I could utter.
   "Yes, you didn't know. Just don't do it again." I was too soft for my own good. Still, I couldn't cause a riot within the workplace. "So have you meet the boss yet?"
   "I am the manager," he gushed, gesturing to his name badge.
   "Oh. So will I get to meet the head manger?" I asked, stepping behind the counter and finding my case key taped on the side of the safe.
   "At some point, he mainly works the busy hours. Really they didn't need this position, but they felt loyal to our branch. It works in our favor." Kira pressed a hand against the case, and it took everything in me not to slap him upside the head. His large hands left an imprint that I would need to wipe down later, no doubt.
   "Okay, so it's going to be quiet. That's good, more time for homework." I walked over to the stool and started to pull up my e-books. Kira had already put the display out, and I knew that was all I needed to do till a customer strolled in.
   "So did you move somewhere around town?" Kira slid down to where I sat, adding more fingerprints.
   "Something like that," I nodded, scrolling to the next page of my book. "Did you relocate?"
   "I did. You should come by and see the place. It overlooks the ocean and has an indoor pool. You love to swim, don't you?" He pulled up a chair and sat across from me.  It never mattered when acted like this in the back, but now he was blocking the display. Sure there were no customers yet, but it didn't look very professional.
   What are you thinking, (Y/n), you're his only friend in this city? Of course, he's nervous and just trying to settle in. Not everyone is as familiar as yourself with running the front of the shop.
   "Yes, I love swimming. But it's hardly the season for that anymore." Pushing my phone back into my pocket, I smiled. "So do they allow pets. I'm sure you brought your puppy with you. A German Shepard mix, right?"
   "Of course, I brought Miso." He lit up with my full attention. "Did your mother come with you?"
   "Uh, no." I clamed up, trying to refocus the conversation. "I'm so much closer to the university through. It's exciting."
   "Oh yea, I'm sure you're doing well in your classes. You're so intelligent and dedicated, you must be at the top of the class."
   "Don't flatter me, I'm doing well but not that well. I'd be doing better if my mom wasn't so sick." I rolled my tongue over my teeth and started to think about my next training session.
   "It's a quirk related illness, right?" He pried.
   "Something like that. Oh, a customer," an older lady walked in. I cursed for not having the glass spotless. But tended to her needs regardless.
   True to my word, I made a sale on my first day. A fifty dollar glass bead bracelet with customizable charms. She was in love with the birthstone charms and got one for each of her grandchildren.  I was able to explain the properties of the birthstones and offer her a wide array of cuts for the gems.
   My body rushed with emotions, as the lady stepped outside. The simple sale reminding me how much I enjoyed sharing my passion for stones. That was the only customer for the rest of the shift. As I was part-time, and Kira had been promoted to manager, I was able to call it a day.
   Kira had talked my ear off all day, but I did find time to study when he took his lunch break. With so much left to read, I put the audio text reader on and listened to my lesson on the way home. Of course, their big hill that was a bitch to walk up this morning, but fun to glide down now. Using that momentum, to make it the side road to lead home.
   My tummy rumbled, and I was more than ready to eat a horse. I used my ten to buy a few snacks at the convince store that was now secured on the handlebars. I smiled, seeing the small ranch house, and pedaled down the driveway.  
   When I got my shoes off, I realized that I had opened my wounds, and now my blood was dried to my socks. Cursing under my breath, I decided to rip them off quickly. With the first one-off, I curled into my side and breathed through the pain.
   Hips bleeding. Bruises up and down. Sleeping on my back for relief. Neck cramps.
   Gritting my teeth, I pulled off the other and put on my house shoes. Scampering to the tub, I washed off all the sweat from my bike ride and the blood from my feet. Mixing in epsom salt to the water, I leaned back and enjoyed a moment alone. The water was hot as I could stand it, and I twirled in the water and imagined it like a hug.
   A knock on the door broke my train of thought. "(Y/n), can we talk?" It was Hizashi.
   "Can you hear me?" I asked, pulling the curtain back so my voice would travel further.
   "Yes. I wanted to apologize for this morning. Shota told me why it upset you. I'd never seen your quirk in action, and I was blindsided at how cool it was." I could imagine his frown from my position.
   "I'd make you a hundred opals, but I can't risk it. Even with my cover blown, I can't have people tracing them back to me." I popped a bubble as it drifted by. "No matter how awesome or cool, I have to pretend it doesn't exist. I forgive you, and I'm sorry I have made it such a big deal. I lost control of my quirk for a moment and made things awkward between us."
   "We're all good now?"
   "Yes, we're good. We get along too well not be on excellent terms," relief washed over me as I sunk back into the water.
   "Rock on." He cheered, taping the wall before heading' off.
   Once my bath was done, I changed into my pj's early and made a quick sandwich before I went for a nap. After eating, I curled into bed and stared at my phone. The center's number was preloaded, but I couldn't find it in my heart to press call. Instead, I covered my face and closed my eyes, it would be better tomorrow.  
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bangjeon · 6 years
Text
Laissez Faire → PT. 1
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→ Credit For Media: Here!
→ Jungkook x Reader | Yoongi x Reader | BodySwap AU | Enemies 2 Lovers! AU
→ Comedy | Fluff | Angst | Smut | Some clinical but explicit sexual stuff that isn’t even hot but this is a heads up anyways | Also I don’t know if this is crack but it might be(?) so 
→ Synopsis: Going home with the young and charming Jungkook on a whim was supposed to be an ephemeral unwinding from your relatively ordinary, stressful life as a twenty-something woman. However, it seems the universe had different intentions for you entirely when you find yourself waking up in a body that isn’t your own. And to make things worse, Jungkook isn’t as easy to get along with as you had initially thought. 
→ Word Count: 18k
“You know what you need? A boyfriend.”
Somin’s sudden advice, albeit not at all surprising coming from her, makes you guffaw. “Yeah, I’ll pass. Although, takeaway sounds good right now.”
It’s only the earlier part of a Wednesday evening yet your colleague still had the nerve to insist on coming along to your place after work hours. You’d call her a hindrance to your social life but at the peak age of 27, living the single life with a dead-end job that was certainly not 9 to 5 as it had promised in the contract, it was nice to have her around.
Equally as unsurprised by your blunt rejection, she continues to file her nails with indifference. “C’mon, I could set you up with so many nice, rich guys. You wouldn’t even have to live downtown or work in that god damned job anymore if you ended up hitting it off with one of them. ”
You lay down onto your sofa with a over-dramatic groan. Truth be told, Somin was describing the fantasy you kept close to your heart which you knew would never come true.
“I’m feeling Chinese tonight.”
She groans and gives you a hard look, only to whine when you stare back at her with indifference. “C’mon, Y/N, you should give it a shot!”
“Any guy that refers to himself as a nice guy is already off my list,” you say with a distasteful scrunch of your nose. It wasn’t you being picky, it was only due to your past endeavours that you held such views. Your last break up being example A. Three months ago, you had ended things with him after a 2 year-long relationship. If that had taught you anything, it was that heterosexual men were untrustworthy and essentially, trash in the grand scheme of things. 
You shifted to face Somin, sitting on the carpet, who was currently deeply invested in her nails. “If anything,” you begin, half incoherent with the way you face is pressed against a pillow, “I need to get laid.”
At this, she pauses her nail care routine and glances towards you with a glint of something you can’t make out in her gaze. “When’s the last time you got some?”
“Jeez, I, uh, haven’t done stuff since Seokjin. There’s possibly some cobwebs down there,” you bashfully admit, barely able to remember the last time you had seen a penis that wasn’t on a screen. “But I admit that it’d be nice to have something quick and one-off to remind me I’m not a virgin.”
Somin sets her cosmetic utensils down on the coffee table before springing up. “Then that is exactly what you’ll get!”
You look up to her with your eyebrows set in dismay. “Whatever it is you’re scheming, forget it. I was only just being honest.”
A glance towards the transparent balcony doors tells you that the evening had only just begun as you spot the setting Sun far on the horizon. Normally, from this time onwards you’d spend relaxing and recovering from what gruelling labour you’d have to do in that forsaken cubicle but with the unreadable glint that shone within Somin’s gaze as she grinned at you, there was the inkling feeling you wouldn’t be able to do just that tonight.
“But-”
“Last time I listened to you, we were lost on the other side of town at five in the morning.”
“Just hear me out,” she pleads, sending you a exasperated look so you bite your tongue and listen. Another telltale sign that you were about to hear some sort of tomfoolery was the way Somin begins to comb through her newly-dyed blonde hair with her fingers. “There is a new club that opened a few blocks from here recently,” she muses with a soft sigh. “And I’ve heard that it’s particularly great for hooking up. So what do you say?”
Your eyebrows, once furrowed, shoot up to your hairline as you begin to understand the implication of her words. “Are you serious? Clubbing on a work night? When I said I’d like to get laid, I didn’t mean right now.”
“Sure! I mean, it’s a great plan, actually. It won’t unbearably busy since it’s a Wednesday night and even if you don’t get to hook up with someone, per se, you could get their number at the very least.”
“The only people at clubs on Wednesday nights are old, fat men and, not to be picky, but I’d rather not.” Your protests to Somin’s suggestion does not make her mien of determination budge even slightly, completely undeterred by your flat-out rejection. If there is one thing you have learned about Somin, ever since she first became your cubicle neighbour last year, is that once she has an idea, it is a mission to make her forget it. “But we can always plan to go for the weekends!” You weakly add on in a last attempt to sway her.
“No point. Anyways, they’re always too crowded and someone always vomits on the dancefloor before the fun can begin. Unless you want to end up deflowering a college boy that doesn’t know your vagina from your asshole. Saturdays and Sundays are crawling with them,” she calmly responds with a little shudder at the end. “Anyways, it’s seven now and we should go about, nine-ish. Giving us two hours to get ready, so, pray tell, lead me to your closet.”
“Is there anyway I can convince you to not do this?”
“Hm, no.”
There’s no avoiding it, you silently resolve. Releasing a heavy, drawn-out sigh of resignation to your fate, you lift yourself from the haven of your sofa and head towards your bedroom. “This way.”
Somin giggles in victory and takes your lead.
Inevitably, you do end up outside this club your co-worker and, unfortunately, friend, had been so set on taking you to.  If you were going to be frank, it looked like any other nightclub within the city.
A subtle entrance, surrounded by two or so bouncers with the faint yet taunting beat barely audible from the outside. Somin was right in the sense that it wouldn’t be as near as buzzing as the weekend tended bring out as the queue that usually accompanied the outside of the night club was near non-existent.
As the Uber that had brought you here quietly departs in the background, it then that you realise you are stuck to make do with the environment. In all honesty, you don’t expect much from this expedition to the heart of the city. What sort of ideal fuck hangs around at a club on a Wednesday night? 
You take in the sight with a slight grimace, still not particularly convinced if this is all worth the loss of sleep and possible hangover you’ll have to face and deal with at 9 AM tomorrow in the office. A pause in your qualms has you grasping that this is you getting old. Side-glancing at the comparatively excited grin that’s wide across Somin’s lips has you confirming just as much.
Despite the autumnal season, Somin had also insisted on you wearing a dressing with the thinnest material she could’ve picked from your closet of sweaters and hoodies. “Can we go in already? My tits are gonna freeze off,” you struggle to say, shivering slightly as a soft breeze passes.
She nods and leads you to the entrance, saying something to the bouncers which you don’t catch as you focus on tugging your dress down for that extra inch of modesty. The hem stops slightly above your knees however the white material acts as a second skin, clinging to every contour of your body. It’s rarely ever made it out your apartment since it’s brave purchase but despite your discomfort with the fitting, you admit that it’s more club-appropriate than any of your other clothes are.
Whilst occupied with your fussing, Somin tugs your hand away and leads you ahead, delving into the depths of the club. She glances towards you, amusement sparkling in her eyes. “Haven’t you ever been in a club, Y/N? You look terrified.”
“Not since I turned twenty-one,” you confess, gingerly taking a few glances around the club. With the fluorescent moving lights and the accompaniment of house music, you take extra care to cling onto Somin, worried you might stumble on the high heels you chose to wear. “So – uh – what do we do now?”
Somin giggles at your question, patting your cheek endearingly. “You’re so cute. Let’s head to the bar and have a few drinks. Maybe you’ll attract a few guys since you’re looking like such a snack.”
Her kind words make you soften at that. Maybe, if not sex specifically, you could use this as a way to loosen up from work. Since you were here already, having spent the time and effort to dress up for it, that's the mindset you should adopt from now on, you decided. “Okay,” you easily comply and allow her to lead you, weaving through the significant amount of people. There were more than you’d expected to be in here.
Reaching the seats adjacent to the counter of the bar, you freeze upon hearing Somin’s request for particularly strong drink than you would’ve liked to consume but before you can address the issue, your friend takes lead in the conversation by switching to a new topic. “So, what type of guy is it?”
You blink at her a few times, still getting used to the dark lighting. “Type?”
She rolls her eyes at your puzzlement. “What is it you look for in a person? What do you find attractive?”
You hum for a few moments trying to gather an honest answer. All your exes were abstractedly different whether it be appearance or personality and so you came to the conclusion that was nothing specifically you were adamant on. If anything, when it came to grouping all your exes together, all it indicated was that you had a habit for taking a liking to assholes.
Biting your lip in hesitation, you parted your mouth only to close it several times before you came up with a lame answer. “Someone who has the same political opinions as me and recognises the issues that needed to be tackled in our modern society? …And they’re funny?” 
The tone of your response makes everything you say sound like a question, as unsure as you are about your ‘type’. You had never thought of dating someone or fucking someone in such a linear way; you fell for someone when you fell for someone. But, as your history also pointed out, you weren’t the most successful in your approach either.
The countenance that sits on Somin’s features informs you that your answer probably wasn’t one she was expecting. “Right… so imagine you’re having a drink at a bar by yourself and the hottest guy in the whole room comes up to you and wants to get to know you but you find out he doesn’t agree with you on some stuff, what will you do?”
A scoff escapes you as you assess the situation, you cross your legs. “What do you mean?”
She taps her acrylics on the table just as the drinks arrive, brightly coloured cocktails slide towards the two of you and you offer the bartender an appreciative nod. “Let’s say you were mid-conversation, and you’re already planning on all the positions he’s gonna fuck you in, but homeboy drops that he voted Trump. What would you do?”
You pull the most horrific face, struggling to find even in what universe you’d let yourself be wooed by a Trump supporter. Sure, your exes were all different sorts of dickheads but at least they had more than two brain cells. “I’d backflip out the window and run away.”
“Really? Just for one night, you wouldn’t let this Republican sex god blow your back out?”
“Not a damn chance if he wants to infringe on my human rights like that.”
Somin shrugs with little disagree on that topic and takes a long sip from her Martini. “Okay so an open-minded guy that’s funny. We can work with that. Keeping in mind that fact that you did just break up with Seokjin, try to keep your visual standards a little bit more reasonable.” There’s a pause in the conversation, the chatter and music in the background filling into it. Eyeing your untouched drink, you weigh out the pros and cons of getting drunk.
As much as you tried to deny it, you were a lightweight and the contents in your glass was more than enough to have you feeling lightheaded. At the current moment, you choose to abstain a little longer from the refreshment. When you glance back up at Somin, she’s focused on something else. “Hello?” You say, waving your hand in front of her. “What are you looking at?”
She doesn’t reply quickly enough and you turn to look over your shoulder, curious at what possesses her attention but Somin quickly grabs your hand before you make the move. You blink a few times, perplexed by her behaviour. “Am I missing something?”
“Don’t make it obvious but there’s a really cute guy not far from us and he keeps looking over at us and talking to his friends. I think he might come over,” Somin whispers to you with a body language that is anything but obvious. You press your lips together for a moment, compressing the bubbling laughter that threatens to escape you at the sight of her spying. “Oh my god, you really hit the jackpot Y/N. If you fuck him with those set of thunder thighs and live to tell the story, I will personally need a full-length report on it tomorrow morning.”
“Yeah but what if he supports that piece of chicken liver President?” You offer, sceptical. In this moment, you give into your desire and take a large sip of the martini. With your lack of alcohol tolerance, you can instantly sense the slight influence of the drink but with Somin’s restless excitement, you suppose that this is a good time to opt for some liquid courage.
Your friend looks to you and chuckles, shaking her head as she runs her tongue along the inside of her cheek. “I doubt it.” A quick side glance spared back to her apparent target, Somin stiffens. “He’s coming this way, he’s coming this way,” she mutters and subsequently grabs her drink to attempt what she thinks to be acting natural.
Her enthusiasm makes you smile fondly but you already plan on not taking anyone home tonight despite Somin’s tactics in getting you out here for that sole reason. You’ve already made up your mind – the thought of having to shoo someone out after a quick fuck and mediocre orgasm, that is if you even manage to get there, is unappealing when you then come to think that your job starts within the next couple hours. Its inconvenience had put you off as you valued sleep more than that at this current stage in your life however, this journey could be utilised in other ways.
For all Somin’s attempts in getting you back in the dating game after your break up, she had been soaring with the single life well before you. Although she had already placed her money on you hooking up with him, you’d be happy to let her take the reins and have at it. It’d be nice to see her hit it off with someone, even if that meant you’d have to deal with the wrath of her with a boyfriend.
Thoughts making you momentarily forget your situation, a male voice interrupts you from your pondering. “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before,” he says.
Whilst Somin is already smiling brightly, you look like a fish out of the water, snapping away from your daze and tilting your head up to catch a glimpse of the strangers. He’s looking straight at you.
His hair has a russet hue, parted to reveal a tantalising expanse of forehead and eyebrows. His slightly tanned complexion looks clear and soft, even in the poor lighting the club provides. There’s a slight grin to his features whilst he studies you the same way, weighing you up, and you use the chance to look at his body and it is then you notice how perfect the proportions are of his lithe figure. As you take in the sight of the young man, you come to the conclusion that he is indeed hot as hell.
This guy radiates a sense of confidence, cockiness and buoyancy you’ve become familiar enough to associate with particularly younger men. Intimidation rises within you and begin to chicken out, wondering if excusing yourself to a restroom visit is appropriate. You need a guy who isn’t fresh out from college to take you out, not one of the college guys that Somin had earlier warned you of.
Your gaze lingers long enough to the point that you have to break away or it’ll just become weird, so you clear your throat. “This is our first time here,” you say, sounding almost like a robot with your monotonous voice.
Somin helpfully picks up on your struggle to begin small talk and, as skilled as she is, continues for you. You send her an invisible brain signal of gratitude as she opens her mouth. “I need to visit the restroom so I’ll be back in a bit. Have fun, kiddos,” she gracefully executes an excuse, lifting herself off the seat.
Your jaw drops, she’s abandoned you! When you send a clearly troubled look as she begins to walk off, Somin winks with drink in hand. ‘Text me if you need something’ she mouths with unnecessary theatrics.
The man, still unnamed, takes what was once your best friend’s seat. “I’ve only been here like twice so that wasn’t the best of starters,” he admits, the corners of his lips subtly tilting upwards.
Staring at this gorgeous piece of meat in front of you, you want nothing more than to grab your purse and breadsticks and whatnot and make a run for it. As beautiful as this man is, you’re not prepared to flirt and woo him over. You sigh and pick up your glass, swirling the contents within it. “It’s okay, I don’t even know what to say if that helps.”
He bites down on his lip, raising his brows at your resigned look. You don’t mean to be rude, he looks like a nice guy, but if he’s expecting to get something more than a boring conversation from this, it’s his fault. You’re not gonna do it, you’re not gonna go home with this guy, you don’t need this. Heck, it sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself more than anything. Maybe all he wants from this is an amiable conversation.
“I’m Jungkook.” Jungkook’s voice is soft, not deep or raspy, but it has a nice sound to it. “So... what brings you to a club on a Wednesday night?”
Your lips quirks up at the cheesy choice of starters but you refuse to let your sight off your suddenly incredibly fascinating cocktail. “A stubborn friend that doesn’t take no for an answer or fear of getting fired, if you must know. But I could ask the same thing to you.”
“Ah.” He nods in understanding. Wearing a plain black hoodie and ripped black jeans, you allow yourself to take advantage of your downcast gaze and sneak a peek at his thighs that Somin had so lovingly described earlier. The denim material clings to it generously and gives you a nice view of just how thick and solid they looked. Your eyebrows raise only slightly since you’re trying to avoid making your admiration obvious.
“I work where hours aren’t so strict and I can sleep in a bit, so it’s not much of a mission to go to a club on a work night.”
The news that he in fact has a job also makes you pause since you had so quickly written him off as a student. “Oh… what do you work as?” You can’t help but ask.
With your new show of interest, you notice his grin widen substantially in your peripheral vision. “A music producer. The studio is pretty lax with work hours.”
At this, you finally take the chance of making eye contact with him, surprise clearly written over your face. “I wouldn’t expect someone so young to have a full-time job.”
“So young?” He repeats your word with a snort, as though taking offence to.
You take the time to finish the rest of your martini, hoping the contents would make you less timid and loosen you up. “Sure, I would’ve guessed you to be a college kid or something.”
Jungkook scoffs at your assumption. “You can’t be any older than me but I guess I should take that as a compliment?”
Waving him off, your lips curve into a small smile. “Nah, I’m surprised you’re hitting on a lady like me when there are plenty younger ones on the dancefloor.”
“I don’t even know your name but how old you are, may I ask?”
“Twenty-seven,” you say as though it physically pains you. The years have passed by and, for the most it, gone to waste far too quickly. Taking a wild guess from the look of Jungkook, it was probably safe to say he looked near the 21 mark and younger guys never really appealed to you like that.
Releasing a laugh almost unpleasant to hear, you’re happy to find that Jungkook does indeed have at least one flaw. He clicks his tongue in reprimand. “I’m only two years younger than you,” Jungkook reveals. You cock your head, twenty-five then. “And who said I’m hitting you?”
“Anyone with two eyes actually,” you say easily. The alcohol seems to be doing its part in helping you forgo your polite, sober mannerisms. Placing an elbow on the counter and propping your chin onto your palm, you watch him raise an eyebrow in curiosity. You grin at him, to make clear you don’t intend your words to be understood in the unkind manner. “Unless your only interest in coming up to me was to gain a friend, to which I’d be pleasantly surprised by,” you add on lightly as a second thought.
He cringes at that, indirectly proving you were right with your assumption. “Do you not like being hit on? I can leave if you want.” Jungkook says this considerately which you appreciate. “Ah, I should’ve used a different opening, Namjoon said it usually works,” he says quitter with a nervous laugh. You probably weren’t supposed to hear that, you muse whilst watching Jungkook ruefully cards through his hair. It’s… cute.
You release a laugh with such sudden force that you snort. Embarrassment fills you as you reach to cover your mouth, badly attempting to stop your bubbling laughter. Macho and mighty might’ve been the initial aura that radiated from Jungkook but looking at him now, after these few awkward minutes, you found him quite endearing to watch actually.
Still recovering from your fit of laughter, Jungkook watches you with a mirth dancing in his gaze, pleased with the sight. He must’ve done something right to get you so breathless.
“D-don’t worry,” you struggle to say as you recover from the amusement he’s caused you. “I’m bad at this whole thing too.” Avoiding his gaze by playing with the tropical straw of your cup, you feel an uncharacteristic shyness rise within you. “Although I fail to see  how you could fault at this.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?!”
Offering him a pointed look, you scoff. “You know exactly what I mean! Flirting and being charming comes naturally to attractive people. Hot people privilege, I think they call it.”
Jungkook straightens with a new sense of pride, a leering smirk on him. “So, what I’ve gathered is that you think I’m attractive.”
“I’m sure you get it often enough,” you say with a small shrug. There was no other way to go about it, Jungkook was definitely a winner of the genetic lottery. Ten minutes of talking and you already felt significantly more comfortable speaking to him. Perhaps it was the drink – or maybe Jungkook was just naturally really easy to talk to.
Despite his pleasure in finding out you somewhat reciprocate the allure, Jungkook clears his throat whilst trying to school his features into something casual, not wanting to appear as jubilant as he felt. Older women were always noted as his type and he often found that not many of them took him as seriously as he wanted to be, brushing his attempts off for his youth. Annoying as it was, the term happiness was an understatement for what he felt upon realising you hadn’t completely written him off just yet. Or so he hoped.
Fishing for more compliments by furthering the topic didn’t seem like a good choice so his eyes dropped to your empty glass. “Do you wanna order some drinks?”
“Uh, I don’t know, it depends.” Fine, you’ll give this guy a shot. You tilt your head up at him with a humoured expression.  “Am I going to have to pay for it?”
To answer your query, Jungkook simply pulls out his wallet and sets down a few paper notes on the counter. “You think I’ve come all the way over here for a free drink,” he laughs with a shake of his head.
“Maybe. When have men ever been reliable,” you say with a slight bitterness you didn’t mean to slip out. Perhaps you still hadn’t completely got over your post-relationship grief but you had done a darn good job of masking it till now so you move on. “So, is being a music producer as glamorous it sounds?”
“It has its perks. At the end of the day, it’s what I love and I can make a living off of it so what is there to complain about? I’m no big name in the industry but I think I’ll can get there, someday hopefully.”
“That’s… really cool, actually. I’ll be sure to buy all your songs legally then, if it’s any help.”
“Not illegally downloading music like the rest of us do, just for me? I’m honoured.”
You both admire and resent the candour his words hold. It’s inspiring to see Jungkook so adamant and passionate on his career. On the other hand, you can’t help but notice the slight jab of jealousy that hits your gut. Being able to love your job and have a passion for your work was something most people couldn’t find, yourself included, and Jungkook had managed to get there at an age like his. A bartender arrives when Jungkook waves at her, whispering the order before sliding the cash to her. You hear a faint, slightly flirtatious giggle but it goes unheard in your deep monologue of life.
However, it is finally interrupted when he turns to you, “What about your office job?”
You blink a few times, straightening your posture as you come up for an answer and nervously laugh. “Yeah, I just have a real passion for staring at spreadsheets and being hounded at by male colleagues who think they’re supervisors due to some type of internalised misogyny but, oh you know, I love it,” you reply, tone drenched in a playful sarcasm. “I suppose it’s okay as far as any nine to five office job can be, y’know?”
Jungkook regards you first with a furrowed brow but begins to chuckle. “Are they really that bad?”
“I mean, it’s not that bad. Not when I have Somin being it’s saving grace,” you smile at the thought.
A tray filled with an array of shot glasses arrives in front of you, indicating this was Jungkook’s choice of order. Lovely, you think with surge dread. As if your embarrassingly low tolerance could even manage four of these without getting  incredibly tipsy yet there were many more than ten presented in front of you. Slowly, you turn to Jungkook with a raised brow.
He shrugs, offering you’re an apologetic yet cheeky smile. Picking up two of the glasses, Jungkook then offers one to you. “You in?”
Having shots with a man you met little than fifteen minutes ago was probably not the adult choice to make but God, did you want nothing more. Even if it meant everything you had previously aggravated over on the car ride here was going to be compromised. Biting your lip, you nod and accept the glass. You share a single look with Jungkook, unable to not smile and not think why the hell not even though there are several answers to that. A nod, and you both drink to a new friendship and perhaps something more.
After the first, slightly off-flavoured shot, the rest of mush together and you can’t seem to differentiate from what was the third and what was the fourth.
The trey is still occupied with a few untouched glasses but you feel like you’re buzzed enough. More than enough. Drunk as in your stumbling and you’re giggling a bit but you’re not about to immediately vomit your stomach’s contents out straight away, which is good.
It’s good because you don’t have worry about running off to puke. Not now. Not when you’re up against the wall in an alleyway beside the club with Jungkook’s tongue down your throat. You’re not exactly how it escalated so quickly but asking him won’t make much of a difference since he’s just about as wasted as you, and anyways, it’s not like you don’t want this. How long have you been making out with him? Ten minutes or twenty, you seem to have lost complete count of the time.
One of his hands comes to frame your jaw whilst the other finds pushes itself on the flesh of your ass, groping with as equal ferocity as the way his mouth frames your own. When his tongue sweeps across your lower lip, a moan claws its way out your throat as you feel a direct shock to your core.
Jungkook is the first to pull away, strands of saliva evident then disperse as he parts from your lips, panting equally as heavily as you. “D-do you want to take this somewhere a bit, uh, better? My place?” He mumbles, forehead against your own. The question reminds you that you’re in a fucking alleyway and your white dress is definitely not stain resistant.
Gulping down a large breath of air, you nod ardently. “Yes, please,” you respond.
As intoxicated as you are, you’ve still the bit of conscience left in you to know what you’re agreeing to when you say yes and you’d like nothing more, to be honest.
He isn’t a man who asks twice. Jungkook reluctantly pushes himself off of you, pulls at your hand and heads to hail a taxi.
Making out in the back of one isn’t the most refined thing to do, especially when you have a something-like-70-year-old man driving it so for the small ride it is. So, you manage to put off Jungkook’s advances for the time being despite wanting to reciprocate just as fervently.
When his groping and whatnot become too difficult for you to stay silent and your occasional warning glances remain unnoticed, you pinch his hand to keep his wandering fingers at bay. Instead, Jungkook opts for leaving his hand atop your upper thigh, gripping to it throughout the rest of the duration.
Merely watching the veins that decorate his forearms move as his grip adjusts is enough to get you going. Celibate for something like three months without a problem but now, with his hand on you like that and his jaw clenched at such a fine angle, you feel as though you’re going to burst if you don’t have his fingers or whatever else of his inside you sooner or later.
And by the time you reach the outside of Jungkook’s apartment block, the lust in the vehicle is near palpable with such a stretched time for desire to marinate.
He fiddles with his keys clumsily, having them slip out more than once before he finally manages to reach the inside of his abode. “Hurry up,” you whined with a mixture of annoyance and desperation. At this rate, you’d pass out before he’d even manage a finger inside of you.
“I’m hurrying,” Jungkook returns in an equally as frustrated tone. Finally, the lock gives way and the two of you stumble into his abode. Normally, you’d take a few moments to look at your surroundings, weigh it out, maybe snoop to see a few family photos but such frivolity was very much at the back of your mind. All you could think manage to think of was the growing arousal that was most likely forming a dark spot through your panties.
Thankfully, after a quick slip of shoes, Jungkook wastes no time in returning back to current affairs. Hands grabbing at your waist, he pulls you in for another rough kiss to which you easily comply to. Given your state of mind, it isn’t the most artful of make outs you’ve experienced. This is sloppy, messy, aggressive even with the odd clash of teeth but it only fuels the burgeoning desire within your lower stomach.
One hand of his slides up from its hold on your side and cups your left breast, softly massaging it through the thin fabric of your dress. Your unpadded bra does little to hid the strain of your pert nipples against the garment. Jungkook gently pinches it causing you to pause in your kissing, groaning from the gratification his movement gives you.
“D-didn’t expect you to be such a g-good girl,” he mumbles during a momentary breather. “I bet you’re - nngh - so wet already, spending all night staring at my thighs. Maybe I’ll let y-you fuck yourself on them.” Jungkook’s words are stuttered as he struggles to continues to let out strings of explicit words that only make the emptiness between your legs even less bearable. All you manage to respond with an agreeing moan, bucking your hips into the prominent bulge outlined in his jeans for some inch of relief.
As a need for further intimacy forms, the two of you stumble to his bedroom. And quickly enough, all your garments discarded and left chucked on the floor.
A throbbing headache is the first greeting you receive at the sound of your alarm, severely so. It feels like stabbing to the head.
Your eyes flutter opens only briefly but in your state of deterioration, you can’t quite manage to keep them open long enough. You let your alarm ring a few more times, hoping it would switch off soon enough so you could comfortably enjoy your self-rewarded few more minutes of shuteye.
Getting drunk never boded well for you, only resulting in an unforgiving headache to be dealt with the next day like you were currently experiencing. You shuffle under the sheets, drowsily trying to recall the events of last night ready for the strong splash of remorse to hit you. The club with Somin, speaking to Jungkook, taking drinks with Jungkook… the rest from then on were fragmented memories that did enough to clear the picture. You cringe as the reminders of having work in a few hours also pops up as an afterthought. Apparently, your resolve wasn’t just as strong enough as you had hoped, being that everything that you didn’t intend to happen did in spite of your autonomy.
Your partner is still fast asleep, not wasting glance because you could already feel the bodily heat emanating off of him. Well, there was no point wasting time here then, as fun as it had been.
You take care not to disrupt Jungkook’s tranquil slumber as you sit yourself up in the bed, rubbing your eyes vehemently. Once you finally manage to open your eyes properly, you take in the messy sight of the bedroom. Seeing last night’s clothing left sprawled out on the floor, you take that as a sign to hurry up with things.
As you let out a yawn, you stretch your arms out in front of you in preparation for having to get a move on within the next few minutes. You lazily blink at the scene in front of you.
It almost goes unnoticed.
Your hands don’t… look like this; masculine and veiny. You do a double take at the first observation, scrutinising everything you certainly hadn’t been familiar with before. Shock settles within you and your processing takes a good minute before you take a further step.
Hesitantly, you press your palms to your chest. Hard and flat. Not to be over generous, but you had always had a fair amount of bust on you but if anything, your chest felt nothing but mostly horizontal under your touch. Your shock quickly turns into a blend of panic and confusion.
“What the fuck?” you say aloud for the first time in the morning. The manly baritone makes you instantly go still. Another question enters your mind that’s already near the edge of hysteria.
Slowly, your hand slides down the torso of your body, noting the abs that seemed to have suddenly formed overnight, and grab your crotch. Something was there that certainly wasn’t there before. Silently screaming at the scenario playing out, you grip the body part and give it a vehement shake to make sure it isn’t anything that isn’t attached to your skin and all that results in is a sharp and strong strike of pain to your nether regions.
You inhale a shaky, deep breath. “This is just a bad trip. I’ve taken some drug and I’m just having a really, really bad trip,” you mutter to yourself with the conviction of a worshipper. Maybe it’s just a dream and you pinch yourself to test the theory. When another much less significant bout of hurt stings you, it is with a heavy heart you find you’ve been proven wrong.
Only five minutes into your day and things were already off to a terrible start. To put things into perspective, you had… physically become a male over night? Nothing was making sense and your freaked thoughts did nothing but make your hangover headache have an even strong throb to it.
The sound of bed sheets ruffling beside you as supposedly Jungkook shuffles tears you from your breakdown. Surely you couldn’t be the only one affected by this odd turn of events.
Prudently, you peer over to the body beside you and angle your head to have a better look at the face.
“Oh. My. God. Oh my god. Oh fuck, fuck, fuck,” a litany of expletives are all you can mumble, unbelieving as your eyes go wide as saucers.
Beside you, was your body. The one you had had for the past twenty-seven years. And you weren’t in it. The out-of-body mindfuck is all too much for the weak state of your brain. You double over and release a drawn-out groan, your new body reminding you of the hangover nausea with a dull, throbbing ache in your head as if this couldn’t get any worse.
In your huddled form, you take a moment to play out the consequences of this revelation. If you’re not in your body and Jungkook is nowhere to be found…
Realisation wrapping itself slowly enough. A body swap?
You contemplate just how on earth to react to this. You silently chuckle, your body shaking as you shake your head in incredulity. Of all people, it had to be you to have to deal with something as bizarre as if. On top of all your projects, your deteriorating love & social life, at least now there was a paranormal addition to really top it off.
To confirm your suspicion of who exactly you might be inhibiting, you hastily get up from your warmed bed spot to head to the connected bathroom, running so fast you nearly trip over yourself in the process.
Although you had predicted as much, actually witnessing the abnormality of not having your own face when looking into your own reflection is still every bit as shocking. For a brief moment, you wonder just how many people have had to experience such a feeling, such a situation.
Jungkook is every bit as handsome even in a fresh-out-of-bed state. His dark hair tousled and unkempt from a cruel, unexpected night of sleep and whatever antics had occurred just before that, chapped lips and a dried streak of drool by his chin. You can only just stare at the reflection in both horror and awe, too scared to make a movement and have him copy.
All you can do in your daze of disbelief is wait for your own body to wake up and see how Jungkook responds.
As if directly answering your curiosity, there is a sudden scream from the bedroom. You rush in to find yourself – Jungkook? – staring into the front camera of his phone. You imagine that his parted-lip, furrowed-brow expression is near the mirror image of what you first looked like.
“J-jungkook?” you gingerly call out.
Dark, distraught eyes meet yours in response. “What the hell is going on?” he demands in what was once your voice. “I have boobs. And I’m… you.” He looks as though he’s about to cry and for one small second, you take offence to how distraught he is by having your face.
You look incredulously at him. “You think I have any idea about this?” Motioning at your face and then to him in reference. Everything is moving far too fast for you to get a proper grasp at comprehending how to handle with this. In your depleted state, you reluctantly move to sit beside him in the bed.
A blanket of silence falls over the room as the two of you are too immersed in your own silent thoughts of fright and bewilderment. You feel the bed shift slightly as Jungkook properly sits up.
“So… we’ve swapped bodies?” He finally asks.
Taking a gulp, you can only nod as you turn to him. “I-I think that’s what’s happened.” In retrospect, before going to his apartment and letting him insert his penis into your vagina, you should’ve perhaps spent more time figuring this guy out. For all you knew or could care to remember was that he was a young music producer. “Out of curiosity, does this happen to you every time you have sex?”
The question doesn’t bode well, apparently too light hearted for the current dread that was occupying the atmosphere because Jungkook looks like he’s taken offence to it. “No,” he responds tightly. “Does it happen to you?”
You shake your head. “Nope. Never.”
There is yet another pregnant pause in the conversation. It seems there is still some processing being done, as there would for such an atypical position. “Well, what do we do now?”
Moping around Jungkook’s apartment won’t make any much of a difference. Despite this, you still each had lives to go on with. After a deep inhale, you stand up. “I suppose we could on with our schedule as per usual.”
Jungkook blinks at you once, and then again. “You really are going to work after something like this? How the fuck are we going to do this? Can’t you just call in sick?”
Memories of highlighted deadlines pop into your head, causing a gush of worry to fizz through you. Adamantly, you shake your head. “No, you have to go in my place,” you say leaving little room for debate. “I can’t slack or I’ll have Seokjin lighting a fire in my ass,” you add, taking on a more pleading tone. One piece of advice; never date your superviser. “The projects, the deadlines, the filing; I can’t slack on it.”
Even in the midst of bad decisions, it seems as though your choice in men wasn’t too shabby since you saw his stubborn resolve quickly dissipate under your beseeching gaze. He shakes his head, giving in. “Okay, so if I do go in, what the hell am I supposed to do?”
“It’s an office job, Jungkook. It doesn’t demand the IQ of a genius, so long as you know how to use Microsoft excel. Hell, I lied about knowing how to use it on the resume. If there are any questions then ask Somin.”
“And what am I going to wear? You want to walk into an office in your clubbing outfit and indirectly tell everyone that you got drunk and lucky last night?”
The vulgarity of his words brings about a heated flush to your face as you falter to reply at the first attempt. “Don’t you have an ex’s clothes lying about somewhere?”
Jungkook can only snort. “Yes, because I certainly have nothing better to do than keep souvenirs of my past endeavours.”
You glare at him for second or so.
“You were so much nicer when you wanted in on my vagina,” you concede and fold your arms, not finding the energy to quarrel in your newly male state. This morning had been the epitome of disasters, one you wouldn’t even have imagined could happen. You couldn’t even have a one night stand without having something severely fuck up.
“Yeah, well I have my own now which is great,” Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat in the repartee, his sharp words dripping with sarcasm as he rolls his eyes. “You’ll have to excuse my mood since I don’t have my own penis anymore.”
“It wasn’t even that great anyways. I don’t know what you’re so sad about.” You shrug.
Offence is clear on his features (or should you say your own?). “I’m sorry, what was that? Oh, don’t you need me to go to work and do your boring job? Actually, that’s perfect. I don’t feel too well anymore now that you mention it.”
A sigh of defeat escapes you. Exchanging insults wouldn’t get you anywhere and seeing as this wasn’t an issue that couldn’t be fixed within a few moments, ruining your relationship with Jungkook as quickly as it had started didn’t seem like the best option.
“Alright, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to berate you but this is just as fucked up for me as it is for you, okay? But you could cooperate with me then that’d be greatly appreciated.”
Seeing beyond reason isn’t entirely crossed out in Jungkook’s books it seems because his expression turns to something that looks considerate. “I guess I’m partly at fault too,” he admits.
Glad to get past that hiccup, you nod easily and make towards Jungkook’s closet. Swinging open the doors, you realise there’s only the smallest variation, white t-shirts, black hoodies and grey sweaters filling up the most of Jungkook’s minimalist closet. “There must be something in here you can wear.”
“Wait, I think I have a cashmere sweater that shrank a little bit,” Jungkook trails off.
“You do?” You instantly abandon your digging efforts and look to him, eyebrows raised. “If so then that’ll be perfect. You can just wear the sweater over the dress and it’ll look like a skirt!” You exclaim. Normally, you’d feel filthy for not showering before work but desperate times call for desperate measures so you try not to dwell on it.
“Sure.” Jungkook looks like he doesn’t necessarily understand your notion but continues to drag himself off the bed, only clad in your bra and panties from last night. The sight makes you cringe. “Jesus, why do your nipples get so hard so easily?” He grumbles sleepily and bends over pull over the white dress left sprawled on the floor.
“Because you’re naked and it’s cold,” you reply blandly, watching him bend down to search through a few drawers before fishing out a charcoal-coloured sweater. “Wear that,” you instruct softly, assuming it’s the sweater he had mentioned before.
“You don’t say.” The cynicism you force yourself to let go in effort to avoid any further quarrels and allow Jungkook to dress himself with the timing of a sloth.
It’s not the cleanest look but it’ll have to do since you’re already late. When he looks over to you for confirmation, you give a quick nod of approval. You take a quick look at the time, already ten minutes pass the usual time you leave the house. Considering that you don’t even know the distance from Jungkook’s place to work, you pick up your phone and send Somin a seemingly normal text to inform her of your tardiness. Nothing mentioning the fact that you were on the hovering suspicion that you had just about lost the plot.
Not more than a minute later, Somin only replies with a winking smiley face to which you grimace at. You consider telling her the rest of the details the issue entailed but thought better of it. She’d think you’re mad.
“Could you perhaps… do this with a little more urgency?” You say, tapping your foot impatiently. Still in just a pair of boxers, you probably weren’t in the position to be hurrying Jungkook.
“Unless you want me to walk into the office and offend everyone with morning breath and unbrushed hair, you’re going to have to give me a minute.”
As Jungkook heads to the bathroom to fix on exactly that, you spent the time pulling on a pair of black jeans from the identical array he neatly had stacked. Next, you slipped on a thin white t-shirt which again was one of the masses. Working as a music producer probably didn’t have as a formal dress code, you imagined and therefore put less effort into looking the part.
Once he emerged from the bathroom, having spent the time freshening up, you gave him a satisfied smile at the sight of tamed hair and un-chapped lips.
“We should arrange a meet up during the lunch break at the cafe beside my studio,” he speaks up. “So, we can have a proper conversation on how to fix this thing,” Jungkook gestures between the two of you. “You’re going to the studio, right?”
“I’m not just going to wallow about in your apartment,” you respond.
Jungkook arches a brow at that, angling his head to look at you. “Are you sure you wanna do that? I mean, do you even know how to produce music?”
“Nope,” you say with enough confidence. “But how hard can it be? I just fiddle with some button and sounds and that should be enough for the time being.”
It earns a scoff from Jungkook as he struggles to slip on the simple heels. “If you need some help with it just ask Yoongi or better yet, call me.”
“Yoongi?”
“I work with him in the studio for the most part so he’s always there. We work as duo so he can help you out if you wanna know anything but be discreet, at the very least. I don’t need him thinking I’ve lost the plot.”
“That I can do,” you nod affirmatively, internally still thinking what exactly will be so hard about pressing buttons and making sounds.
Being Jungkook is still awfully new having found out only about two hours ago, not to mention unsettling, for you but you know it’s not like you can go into hiding until the situation was fixed (which still remained a mystery as for now). You were not used to driving an automatic, or used to standing up and aiming to pee, or even wearing skinny jeans to work but alas, this was Jungkook and so for the time being, all you could do was get used to it.
You glance down to the text from Jungkook before returning your eyes back to the sight of the studio you had parked in front of, making sure you weren’t intruding into somewhere. The casual nod the receptionist offers you as she buzzes you in nearly makes you faint. 
You’re Jungkook. An attractive, young music producer and you have no idea how to make music. Great. The elevator journey is spent nearly entirely on a quick, panicked search of ‘introdyctipn to creeatingh mukic’  to which you learn nearly nothing due to the bad service except a recap on musical notes you faintly remembering being taught at one point in middle school.
Little before you know it, the ding for floor seven arrives and you rush out in an awkward manner having just realised that’s your studio. For now, anyways. To calm yourself, you inhale deeply as you inspect the layout of the floor. It’s a quality label, you’ve come to realise with the professional, clean set out and laid back atmosphere that faintly smells of coffee. The elevator opens up into hallway, deep purple, velveted walls with a sleek black-tiled floor.
Understanding dawns upon you, realising how he can pay for that penthouse of his.  
Studio Fourteen you remind yourself as you begin to search, reading each studio number as they pass. The some of the names indented beneath the signs are even recognisable. 
You don’t miss the records and awards hung in between the studios, proud displays of the probably very talented producers behind the doors. It looks so sleek and professional, the hallway nearly completely silent due to soundproof materials within the walls, you assume. In a heartbeat, you can admit this workplace is better than your loud, bustling office you work at, in that cubicle that isn’t even a separate room.
As the memories of your workplace are conjured, feeling so distant and long ago despite it only being yesterday, your thoughts are diverted to Jungkook. You wonder how well he must be faring, dealing with Somin on the right and Alex on the left who’s actions probably breached the harassment rule, considering how many times he had offered you a relationship of the sorts outside of office hours. You find yourself grinning at the thought of Jungkook having to deal with that sort of change.
On the other hand, you could get used to this. A soundproof studio where all you had to do was press some buttons and deal with a guy who had never met before, who was probably a professional by the looks of where he worked. How hard could it be? You learnt the keyboard in ninth grade, although you had forgotten basically everything, you supposed to wouldn’t take long to consolidate your knowledge.
“Uh, Jungkook, why are you staring at Jessi’s studio door?” You hear a male call out, disrupting the silence and your thoughts.
At first, you almost don’t respond, not used to being called by a name that isn’t yours, until it hits you that that’s exactly what your name is for the time being. You startle and turn to the stark blond male, a very delayed reaction but he only raises his eyebrows at you.
You take a quick second to analyse this new face. His ruffled flaxen hair being the most attention-grabbing feature, you take care to look at the rest. Judging by a glance, the man is thinner and shorter than Jungkook. His features are soft, feline almost, are contorted in a bored look as he stares upon you and you decide that he is definitely not unattractive but he’s also Jungkook’s partner so you don’t push the thought further. 
“Uh, Yoongi?” You gingerly ask, unsure if this is the partner Jungkook earlier spoke of but seeing the matching description of blond hair, you feel like this isn’t a bad guess.
The blond man scoffs at your hesitation. “Hurry up and get in here, you’re already late, Kook.” He then disappears into the studio, leaving you slightly perturbed by his blunt mannerisms.
If he was the man Jungkook worked day in and day out with, you guessed that were would be some lacking of formalities. For him, for you, this was supposed to be just another day as a hot music producer. You inhale a deep breath for the umpteenth time before following into studio fourteen.
The set out is normal, although you must note have a very narrowed idea of ‘normal’ considering this is the first studio you’ve ever physically set foot in. Normal, for you, meaning it looked like how they did in the movies which by anyone’s standards is then deemed as not too darn shabby. You let your eyes roam the rectangular room, gently shutting the door behind you.
You’re not exactly how to ‘be’ Jungkook, per say. Your whole idea of him is also fairly narrow, showcasing him to be either a very smooth-talking and comforting boy-next-door you barely remember speaking to in a nightclub or a downright asshole.
“So, uh,” you begin in a timid voice as your blonde partner takes a seat in one of the swivelling chairs, not wasting any time in starting up whatever system was laid out in front of him. “What are we doing today?”
God, that sounded like the dumbest fucking thing you could say. Making music, duh.
Yoongi, who’s already slipping on his headphones, pauses to look at you, confirming what you’ve said is probably not best choice of words. “How many drinks did you have yesterday?”
“Why?”
“Because you look like shit and you just asked that... so my guess would then be, a lot.” Yoongi expertly swivels his swivelling chair all the way to you, although you’re not quite sure why he couldn’t just get up and walk to you. In his hand, he holds a thin wad of paper and offers it to you. “I get you’re living your life as an attractive, young man but please remember that we have to produce at least thirty demos for that rapper’s debut album by the start of next month so perhaps don’t get too carried away, okay?”
Gently, you pluck the wad from his grasp and take a look at the contents. Compositions of the sorts and in other words, complete gibberish since you can’t differentiate a B minor from a B major because you don’t really know what B was in the first place. Alas, this is your job for the time being and you’ll soldier through it somehow, so you try to make an expression that looks like you know exactly what it reads and not like you have no fucking idea. Just for show.
“This is…?”
Carding musician-worthy fingers through his hair with a harsh sigh falling from his lips, you get the feeling he’s starting to lose his patience with you. It’s quite unfair. Jungkook gets to hang out with that airhead Somin who probably doesn’t give a flying shit about whether you know what you’re doing and you get this grumpy asshole who looks like he’s about to manifest into something that’s a little more threatening than the thin, pale guy that he is.
“The most recent compositions you’ve produced this month. Did you hit your head and get amnesia, dude? We’re on a tight schedule here so try not to slack.”
The irritance he clearly speaks with makes your lips twitch but you silently nod and take the over swivelling seat. But as you make your way, you can’t help but let out a quiet, “Don’t have to be so rude about it.”
In spite of your effort to keep it to yourself, Yoongi picks up on it but whilst you expect him to half rip your head off and eat it, you instead notice his features soften. Just the slightest bit. “I’m sorry for being an asshole, Kook, you know me when I’m stressed,” he says.
The thing is, you don’t know but again you nod and let yourself dwell on how you’re going to do this. WikiHow it is, then.
_
Jungkook has had just about fucking enough. These last ten minutes in the building have been quite the rollercoaster from him. Once upon a time, he could dial in and get coffee, his usual Godiva blend, delivered to his room by that hot assistant he just might’ve fucked in the toilets at one specific staff christmas party. Now? Now he had to haul his has all the way to the other end of the floor to get it.
And between him getting up and him getting his coffee, he had several obstacles to overcome. That Somin or whatever her name was had been haggering him ever since he stepped a foot into the building would make the effort to distract him, there was Alex who’s effort in making a conversation made Jungkook feel oddly comfortable in a body that wasn’t even his own, causing him to tug down on his dress on several occasions, and then countless other people who had each shrugged their own bits of paperwork onto Jungkook to deal with. After that trip, he was far too scared to dare make one for the toilet.
He doesn’t have one clue. And the confining walls of this cubicle and the lack of Yoongi’s presence are just about going to be the death of him. The only good part of this entire day was that he could touch your, slash temporarily his, boobs whenever he felt like it. Sitting in his chair, staring aimlessly at the desktop in front of him, Jungkook again indulges in the pleasure of groping his chest before releasing a dramatised sigh and dropping his head to the desk in despair.
On top of all of this bullshit, Jungkook has an album to co-produce that’s due next month and he has that girl stuck in his body, setting him back with probably not one given fuck on what to do. He can’t exactly blame her though, looking at his current position. Was it bad that he had partly forgotten her name? Y/N.. or something like that?
Well, he certainly had learnt a lot more about her job. The proprietorship company was some pet-food related stuff and she worked within the treasury. Tillating. He had done enough google searches to complete his idea of what exactly being part of the treasury management meant. Some of the tasks burdened on his shoulders proved to be somewhat simple, so he focused on them first in an aim to distract the ever-building distress that had arisen when he first realised he has a two holes instead of one. The better half of the uber here was spent on figuring out what sort of bad deeds he had committed that would create such a comeuppance to his being.
However, a distraction is not necessarily possible with Somin to his right. Her head pears over the small barrier and Jungkook feels the need to groan at the sense of her presence.
“Let’s cut to the chase,” she says above, her acrylic nails tapping along the thin barrier that separated them. “You don’t respond to my texts from last night, end up wearing the same dress as yesterday night and have the audacity to not speak a word about it.”
Reluctantly, Jungkook pushes himself away from his desk to slowly look up to the women he had already grown to despise. “Continue.” He muffles a yawn.
“Do I need to elaborate? Spill.”
A wrinkle appears on his forehead as Jungkook tries to figure out what exactly this girl wants to know before it suddenly dawns on him that this was the girl who sat with you before he came over and fucked both of your lives up. “Ohhh, you wanna know what happened?”
Somin looks at him as though he’s a complete idiot. “Duh, dumbass.”
“Well.” He clears his throat and strokes his chin, attempting to recall back on the blurred account he had from last night. “Well, um, we spoke for a while and ordered shots then we made it back to my- I mean his place.”
“And?” She pushes him to continue.
“And we had sex. Wait, wasn’t that a bit obvious?”
Rolling her eyes, she then leans forward an inch to manage to flick Jungkook on the head.  Emitting a yelp of surprise mixed with the unexpected pain that caused, he regards her bitterly. “Give me the fucking details!”
“No! Why are you such a perv?” Sure, Jungkook might spill a few pieces explicit content to Yoongi and the guys in the studio but retelling it to a girl whom he, till now, had never met before? He internally cringes.
“Did you take an aspirin yet? Y/N, this is how we communicate. We tell eachother every detail of our sexual rendezvous’ so - was he a good fuck or not? I did not waste my time last night to have you go home with a guy that can’t beat cheeks up properly.”
Jungkook lets himself dwell on this information, a Cheshire Cat grin beginning to develop on his face. “Oh, you don’t need to worry about that. Now that you mention, Jungkook was probably the best fuck I’ve ever had in my entire life,” he begins to dramatically retell as Somin grows more and more satisfied with his showy recounts. It feels odd to speak of himself in something that isn’t a first person recount of him but the expression Somin wears is more than enough to keep him going.
It isn’t a total load of bullshit that he’s spewing. Sure, it was no porno with purely vaginal orgasms and crazy, gymnastic-worthy positions but Jungkook thought it was a relatively good fuck despite not remembering most of it due to the amount of alcohol he had taken in beforehand. Doggy Style and Girl On Top were the few remaining memories he still possessed and yeah, an eight out of ten by his standards which was pretty rare.
By the time he’s finished is embellished story, Somin is practically foaming at the mouth and Jungkook begins to wonder if she is some weird perv. “This is so great for you! It’s your first step in getting over Seokjin.”
Raising an eyebrow, Jungkook’s features stay blank. “Seokjin?”
Somin frowns at his lack of response. “You know, Seokjin…?” She pauses, nodding at him.
Feigning some sort of recognition, Jungkook nods along. “Ohh, him. Sure, sure. He’s my, uh…”
“Ex-boyfriend,” Somin finishes off the sentence for him with her brows knitted, slightly confused by his weird actions.
Jungkook clicks his fingers, “Of course. Ugh, last night was just so good that I forgot about him entirely,” he quickly saves the discourse.
She snorts at that but buys it at least. “Anywho, I was thinking of getting a Subway for lunch, you wanna come?”
God, no. Jungkook certainly does not. He’s still trying to figure out if his pee and shit come out from the same hole. But this girl is who he’s stuck next to for a good eight slash nine hours every day till he figures out how to break the laws of science once more, so he figures it’s rather inappropriate to flip her off and tell her to leave him alone. Plus, she’s Y/N’s friend, he adds on as an afterthought.
“Uh, now that you mention it, I planned to spend lunch with someone I need to speak to so maybe tomorrow, yeah?”
Somin tilts her head to an angle with a bemused expression, apparently not used to being rejected for lunch outings from Y/N. “Who’s taken my place?”
Fuck, Y/N had it easy. Min Yoongi was a man of not many words when consumed with his work so she was probably having a breeze learning the differences between a minim and a semibreve. Unlike himself, feeling more so like an malefactor than an office worker, with these imprisoning cubicle walls and the interrogator herself situated just beside him.
“Uh, that guy from last night. I left something at his house and he said we could meet up at a cafe for lunch,” Jungkook weakly explains as he reaches to scratch the back of his neck, a habit that often showed up during his nervous situations.
At that, Somin’s face lightens up visibly. Knowing her, the reason behind her elation is probably something to do with it being her work that set you up with a guy that finally broke your dry spell. A heartwarming intention, and you obviously love her and would quite possibly die for Somin but the only thing that Jungkook can currently appreciate is her naivety.
She giggles, leaning into the thin barrier with such reliance that it threatens to fall over before she catches herself from letting it happen just before Jungkook’s panic begins to truly arise. “You’re such a minx,” Somin sighs. Jungkook doesn’t really know or care for what that means but he goes along with it, something he’s been doing pretty much since he woke up, and smiles in return. “I love it. You gotta tell me afterwards, though. I mean, you guys might even become something more.”
And with that suppressed parting squeal, Somin returns back to her own quarters. A breath Jungkook didn’t know he was holding escapes him. Moments of silence pass as he aimlessly watches out of the window behind his desktop before he leans forward to bury his face in his hands in pure disparity, resigning himself to this fate
Four hours. Four full hours you had to spend in the room with not a single clue of how to conduct yourself and by the time you’d reached the cafe, you were half convinced you've developed claustrophobia within that time.
The wafting aroma of coffee and the sight of worn-out, empty cushions are like a breath of fresh air to you and whilst there is obviously much to be desired, you feel oddly at home in this low-maintenance cafe in comparison to the sumptuosity the record label’s building oozed.
Jungkook had beaten you to it, sitting comfortably in a place nicely tucked into the corner, his head tilted downwards to look at his phone. It catches you off guard because, of course, it’s technically your head and so you’ll need a little bit of getting used to see your face in anywhere but your reflection. Without trying to draw attention, you take a beeline towards the corner and sit down, finally earning the attention of the man trapped inside a woman’s body.
“You’re five minutes late.”
“Oh, hi Jungkook. I’m doing okay, thanks. It was really lovely for you to ask since I’m in your work place and could’ve been up to just about anything,” you say in an avidly enthusiastic voice, causing the man to raise both eyebrows at you.
“I take that you’re faring well then, at least,” he says in your voice, lacking energy and sounding partially dead. Apparently, he hadn’t recovered from his mood this morning.
You give him a look of disapproval. “Have you been like this all morning?”
He spares you a brief glance. “Like what?”
“A lifeless asshole?”
“How can I not be?!” Jungkook retorts with a sudden show of emotion in his voice. It’s sharp and sardonic but you appreciate it more than the miserable and unresponsive tone he first spoke with. “God, you really weren’t kidding when you said that your job was shit. Why does that girl talk so much?”
You try to find a scintilla of offense taken but there is none since he’s not too far off from the truth you can’t even deny yourself. “Who, Somin?”
Jungkook’s expression darkens at the name, almost as though it pains him. “I’m going to request a cubicle change if I have to put up with her any longer than a day.”
Stiffening at his proclamation, you widen your eyes. “No, wait, don’t!” The sudden increase of volume earns a few head turns from the two young ladies behind the counter, who are probably thinking this is some sort of oddly-timed break up. “Try to be amiable with her, please? She can sometimes,” Jungkook snorts at the choice of word, “be a little overbearing but she’s really, really lovely. And not to mention sensitive, so don’t be mean to her, okay?”
Even though you yourself sometimes have a difficult time sitting beside the girl, you wouldn’t do anything in the world to really hurt her, like request a seat change. Oh, God, no, her heart would positively just about break at that. You reach for Jungkook’s hands, the man finding it odd how stuck you are on it, and encase them in your new, very large ones.
“Promise me you won’t do that.”
“Are you guys… more than friends or something?”
Your face turns into one of perplexion before you understand what he implies. “Oh, no, I just… really care for her, platonically.” When Jungkook’s expression remains unconvinced, you sigh. “She’s my best friend and I don’t have many friends, let alone best friends, so I’d really appreciate you don’t ruin that relationship. Deal with her for me… please?”
“I barely know you.”
“You knew me enough to stick your penis in me.”
“I stick my penis in a lot of people, don’t think you’re special,” he stubbornly responds, indifferent. You feel a small prick of hurt at his words, once again reminded you’re just a one night stand gone wrong. And to think, you thought you could’ve been his friend.
Pinching his hand with your newfound strength, Jungkook yelps and pulls his hands away in surprise. “Well, you won’t be sticking anything in anyone anytime soon so I suggest you keep me happy if you want this disgustingly attractive body back. God, you’re such an asshole.”
Jungkook’s stoic resolve breaks at your genuinity and he rolls his eyes but nevertheless, you sense the acceptance he’s conceded himself to. “Fine but I need you to remember I’m only human.”
You beam now that’s been dealt with as one of the ladies behind the counter arrives with two seeing hot cups of tea, nodding as you offer her a quick thanks. When she’s a good distance away from your table, you continue the conversation. “Did you manage to find out what our… condition is exactly?”
Across the table, Jungkook shakes his head with an aura of despondency. “I tried googling it but all that came up were some weird Quora answers. I’m afraid we’re a bit stuck.”
The tea is scalding on your tastebuds but you take a sip of it anyways, ignoring the lingering sting as you nod. “But there has to be some explanation, even if it isn’t scientific. These things don’t just happen out of nowhere.” Silence falls over the two of you like a blanket as you both let yourselves dwell further on the issue before you click your fingers. “Do you have any friends that are… like, mystics or old-school alchemists or whatever? The weird spiritual type.”
“Hm, let me think,” Jungkook goes along with the suggestion since he has none of his own and has partially accepted this is some type of punishment for being a bad person, if he even is one. The plus side to being an avid socialiser and partially well-known music producer is that he has plenty of contacts. “Oh, shit, I think I do. There’s this guy that lives somewhere on the eastside and he’s all into that.”
Eyes bulging out of their sockets, you for once thank your poor luck. “You think he’ll have something we can work with?”
“Not sure but anything helps, right?” He shrugs, appearing not as excited by the prospect as you do.
You nod avidly as a flower of hope blooms within you. “So when do you want to visit this guy?”
“Tonight, I guess. We’re better off having this over and done with as soon as possible so I’ll call him up and see if he’s down for it. Kim Taehyung is a pretty busy guy.”
“Really?” You ask with a doubtful look.
“Yeah. White people really dig that tantric stuff so he gets business,” Jungkook admits with a flippant wave as he takes his first gulp of the now-cooler drink. “But I’m sure he can fit us in.” He stays quiet for a bit before glancing back up to you, aimlessly watching outside the window. “Are you finding the studio okay?”
A grim expression surfaces as you recall the experience. “I’m learning stuff and trying to figure out what all those buttons mean but your friend is a pain in the ass. I’m three naggings away from beating his ass all the way to hell and back.”
“Ah, Yoongi,” Jungkook recognises with a pleasant snort. “He can be a bit much but you’ll learn to deal with him.”
“Yeah, I doubt it.” Throwing your head back for added effect, you pinch your nose. “He got angry at me because I asked him who Rap Monster was. Like it’s my fucking fault! Why would I ever know someone with a stage name like that in the first place? So I had to run a little wikipedia background check on him.”
“Rap Monster?” Repeating your words, Jungkook widens his eyes when hit with realisation and buries his head in his hands. “Fuck, I completely forgot we have him booking for a recording session tomorrow!”
“Oh, great,” you say with feigned enthusiasm. “I’m definitely looking forward to that. No, really, his songs sound… creative.”
Your attempt at dry humour doesn’t help his sullen mood when he looks up but instead earns an intense glare. “Are you even fucking bothered by this? We’re experiencing something that doesn’t even fucking exist and by the looks of it, I’m the only one that’s worried by this. Quit acting like a child. We could be stuck in each others bodies forever and you’re joking around?” He adds a scoff whilst running a hand through his hair, his frustration becoming even more visible.
Irritation flares within you. This entire day he’s had a huge chip on his shoulder, and whilst you resonate with that and can understand, there’s no reason to aim it so viciously at you. “Of course, I’m fucking bothered! But guess what, Jungkook? I’m not going to start being a little bitch to everyone because I’m acting like an adult and can deal with tough situations without acting like I have a stick shoved all the way up my ass.” You don’t think before you respond just as accusingly, your voice growing louder than you intended to and clear hurt written all over your face. “It’s not my fault we’re like this so you should stop hating me like it is! At least I’m trying to be your friend. After this is over, you can act like I don’t exist for for now you have to learn to work with me.”
The change in atmosphere is more than evident and you feel embarrassment begin to kick in as you notice the few customers and workers once again discreetly looking your way, mumbling things. Jungkook bites his lip like he’s caught in some soliloquy of his own before he deflates with defeat. He’s about to say something when you interject, “And I’m sorry that I might come across insincere but you need to know that I’m really bummed out by this turn of events. I want one crummy orgasm and I end up in a dude’s body; I don’t need this either. I’ll try to stop being so damn funny but you need to agree to stop being such a Debbie Downer!” Tears begin to spring in your eyes, glossy as your bottom lip begins to wobble.
“Hey, hey, stop it, people are looking,” Jungkook whispers when he’s caught onto the attention and inhales deeply. “Look, I get it, I’m being an ass and I need to stop. It’s just- you’re really freaking me out. You don’t know anything about my job and you’re joking about it where, in reality, I could end up getting fired for the incompetency. I really need you to take this seriously and it’s freaking me out. Plus you’re making me looking weird,” he says and gestures to the rest of the people who still glance at the two of you every so often.
You sniff and intensely rub at your eyes to fix your state. Jungkook genuinely looks scared when you return his gaze and you start to feel sorry for him. God, it must be annoying to be so young and fresh with such a promising career and having it suddenly ruined with a body swap with a completely dumbass like you of all people. “Okay,” you breathe out and wet your lips. “I’ll try to take your job more seriously.”
“Thank you.” He visibly relaxes at your promise and leans back into his chair. “I’ll try not be a… Debbie Downer, did you say?” There’s the slightest hint of amusement on Jungkook’s face as he tilts his head in question.
“Look, I was sad and didn’t want to cuss in front of the old ladies,” you argue with a side look to the grey haired two behind the counter who kept sending concerned glances towards your table. “And, thanks. Took you long enough.”
And for once, there’s some sense of amiability in the air between the two of you, something there hasn’t been an awful lot of, so you appreciate the shared grin. However, the comforting post-argument moment is quickly dispelled when Jungkook looks at his watch and gasps. “You should be back at work by now!” He exclaims and gets up in a blur of hurry, grabbing his coat and the untouched sandwich to keep for later. Stumbling behind him, you get your things.
“Be back at mine straight after work so we can head to Tae’s,” he reminds you, opening the door.
“I didn’t even get to eat anything!” You call out behind him in a whine as Jungkook fumbles with his phone to order an Uber. Thankfully, you only have a five minutes walk ahead of you with these new long and muscular legs.
He humphs, watching you speed walk away, “That’s because you talk too much,” he finally responds but you’re already well out of sight by then. You manage to hear his response, although, you don’t think he heard you laugh.
You arrive back at Jungkook’s place in a hurry. The rest of the time spent in the studio with Yoongi was not as draining as the first half after you began to understand the odd few musical terminologies and got used to your temporary partner’s mood and dry humour. Although you’ve convinced yourself another week or so in this situation won’t do much damage, you can’t deny the excitement that’s been simmering in you at the thought of fixing this tonight with the help of Jungkook’s friend - Tayoung or something like that?
It’s a huge weight off your shoulders the moment Jungkook opens the door, finally granted some privacy without day-to-day life interfering. A lazy greeting is all you can mumble before collapsing onto a sofa.
“Long day, huh? How was it?” Jungkook asks after hearing your theatrical sigh as he leans against the kitchen countertop with his arms crossed. You had almost forgotten that the kitchen and living room interconnect like those chic upstate apartment blocks.
You only nod, appreciating the comforting silence that hangs in the air after hours of listening to the hundreds of stupid sound effects Yoongi had bombarded you before insisting you insert some into the tracks. If you ever heard one more ‘skrr’ again, you might just drop dead. “I’m still getting used to aiming.” The image of your mess pops up into your head and you cringe. Jungkook grimaces ocne he catches onto what sort of aiming you’re talking about. “But I’ve been getting better so don’t worry. I also learned what some of those buttons do so Yoongi isn’t being as much of an ass as he was in the morning. You?”
Your vague recount satisfies Jungkook, judging by how his brooding expression is not as intense as it once was earlier in the day.
“The things I have to do are pretty simple so it’s not too bad, actually. Whenever I get a bit confused, Somin helps me out so it’s safe to say I don’t completely hate your friend anymore.” His change of heart is enough to bring a smile to your face, you knew you could count on her. Even though this whole ordeal was technically her fault but who would guess this could happen? “Yeah, there’s not much you can say about sitting in front of a spreadsheet all day but you don’t need to worry about losing your job because of me. Anyways, I texted Tae and he said he’s free at seven. It’s six thirty now and it takes half an hour to drive to the other side of town so, get up.” He gracefully chucks you your coat you discarded only moments ago.
A drawn out groan is your first response as you throw your head back in irritation. “I just wanna sleep,” you whine as Jungkook tugs you up with visible struggle. “I barely had enough sleep last night.”
His useless tugging at your arm halts for a second when he gives you a bored look. “You were the one that insisted for a round two and kept us up.”
“That was my first time have sex in months, do you blame me?” You hurl back. Nonetheless, you painfully heave yourself up, no thanks to Jungkook’s help, and slip on your still-warm coat. “Anyways, do you really think he can figure this out?”
“He told me he knows a ton of shit about weird stuff like this so I’ll take his word for it,” Jungkook reluctantly admits with a yawn, scratching the back of his neck. He doesn’t seem nearly as convinced as you hoped he’d be but the idea was a long shot. This guy, despite as much as a spiritual passion he might claim he had, could be an old ugly con man. But then again, thinking about the guy Jungkook was, you doubted he’d be in company of someone like that.
Even as physically and mentally drained as you currently are, you spend a good few moments considering how many theoretical lotteries of life Jungkook has won; he’s incredibly attractive, has a pretty dick, young as well but owns a nice place and has a well-paying job. Sleeping with you was probably just a normal night for no-strings-attached sex and here you were, messing up things you didn’t even know you could mess up. Now he was stuck in your body and had to live your life, which, to the average person, wasn’t necessarily terrible but you know he must hate it. You can’t help but feel more sorry for him than you do for yourself.
Shrugging his hand away, you make your way towards the door. “Ladies first,” you say lightly, which is enough to earn a glare from Jungkook but he takes lead anyways.
You had high hopes for a silent car ride, giving you the chance to catch up on thirty minutes of lost sleep but apparently Jungkook’s mood had done something like a one eighty spin and he suddenly felt the need to talk without end. “This is one of the songs we produced that stayed on the charts for seven weeks,” he continues with blatant pride and reaches to turn the sound up.
 You’ve barely taken in more than a sentence of his blabbering but the consistent rise in volume from the audio player was a minute away from causing you to defenestrate yourself. Although, this is the first time he’s been so vocally enthusiastic since the incident and you wouldn’t dare to jeopardize something so rare.  “Yoongi didn’t think the backing vocals-”
“Jungkook, I have a small migraine so if we could just-” you slowly move to turn the sound down, carefully figuring out what topic you’re going to jump to. “Whilst we’re stuck in this traffic, we should lay out some ground rules.”
Not affected by your tactical switch of topic, you internally celebrate when he nods without further argument. “Okay,” he says with slow enunciation, “I’ll go first. Move in with me.”
Your posture stiffens. “What?” He couldn’t be serious.
“It makes sense. We need to be around each other more to be able to deal with this… thing a little more aptly if this takes more than a while to fix. We can’t really coordinate our lives if you’re all the way somewhere else. So, for the time being, you should move to my place and settle in the spare bedroom,” Jungkook explains like it’s not a major step and the two of you haven’t spent the better half of the day bickering relentlessly.
But when you dither on the proposal, it doesn’t seem entirely inappropriate. You and Jungkook will have to work accordingly to keep each other’s daily routine intact and living a lengthy twenty minutes away from him didn’t scream convenience. Yet such commitment and involvement inevitably did cause your stomach to stirr. You bite down on your lip and the metaphorical bullet and nod. “Okay, done.”
“Cool. On the way back we’ll stop at your’s to pick up whatever you need and bring it over.”
“Shit, Somin,” you begin and wince. “She comes over to mine after work on most days. What do I tell her?”
Jungkook hums in contemplation, eyes still trained on the road ahead of him as his taps his fingers along the steering wheel. “Make something up. Say a pipe or something burst on your floor or they’re doing renovations and you have to stay at your parents’ place whilst they get it done.”
Whilst he thinks his plan is foolproof, you, on the other hand, are far less convinced as you turn to give him a helpless look. “She’s, like, bestfriends with my mom and dad. She’ll come back to theirs after work either way,” you sigh and stare out the window. A week of sunshines and the odd few clouds, the sudden show of rain seems like just another effort the universe makes to mock you and your horrible fate.
“She sounds like a stalker more than a best friend,” Jungkook comments in a dry tone.
You poke him in the side, half for Somin and the other half to bring his attention back to the now-moving traffic. You ignore his yelp and continue, “Shush, she’s nice. She’s better than any man could ever be.”
“So why don’t you go date her then?” He doesn’t skip a beat, looking at you incredulously. “She might as well be attached to your fucking hip.”
That earns another jab to the ribs and this time Jungkook only wordlessly sends you one of his trademark glares. “Because I do this thing called loving and cherishing my best friends! I don’t need romance to keep me happy. Unlike some people, who actively seek out women in clubs and trick them with a facade of an easy going personality until you wake up and find out they’re an absolute jerk. But I won’t name drop,” you finish with a light, bordering mocking tone as you fold your arms.
“I’m part of that is due the fact that he never intended to trade bodies in the process,” Forever hung up on that little detail, he rolls his eyes. “Anyways, that’s not seeking romance, that’s seeking sex, Y/N. There’s a difference.”
“Yes, I’m sure you’d have a ton of knowledge in that department. Seeing as any girl or boy would love to date a whole grown ass baby like yourself,” you bite back, your fatigue and hunger sourering your mood even more by the minute. “And is being in my body really that bad?! God, you act like it’s the end of the world or something.” 
You’d thought you’d be more offended by how bluntly he expressed he only looked for a quick fuck in the club but weighing things out, that’s all you wanted as well. At the current moment, you were more offended by how irritated he looked every time he was reminded he wasn't in his. But your body. Not that you could really blame him.
Jungkook catches onto your change in mood quickly enough and shifts as much as he can in his seat to look at you properly, wearing an expression of something that you think is as close to apologetic Jungkook is able to express. “It’s not like that, ____. I’m just really missing my male anatomy and being able to walk in a street without being cat called every five minutes. Speaking of which, do you really have to go through that stuff every day?”
At least he’s reminded you what you miss least of being a female. “Yeah. That’s not the worst that’s happened. A guy started following me once so I went round in circles in busy streets but he still didn’t stop so I had to go into a shop and hide there for an extra thirty minutes but he was waiting outside so I ended up having to pay for an Uber after I reported him to the owner. Fun stuff.”
“Damn,” he says with a whistle before pulling a face. “I couldn’t ever do that.” You raise your eyebrow before he quickly clarifies, “Catcalling, I mean.”
“Oh, that explains. I didn’t think not being a stalker was a characteristic that needed pointing out.” You both laugh at that until the car behind you honks, reminding Jungkook that the light had turned green. “But I’m missing my body a lot too,” you add on as an afterthought, longingly taking in the sight of you. “Especially my boobs.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve been taking good care of them,” Jungkook assures you, putting emphasis on his words by using his free hand to cup a breast. “I think I’ve groped myself like ten times in the past three hours.”
This time, you pull a face, “That’s a little weird. But speaking of bodies, let's put up some boundaries since we’re technically a guest in each other’s body. First of all, you can’t masturbate.”
Although he’s far too busy focusing on turning him, you notice the way his eyes bulge as he splutters for a response. “H-how can you just decide that?” Jungkook glances at you momentarily, his face turning harsh. “Fine, you can’t get off in my body either.”
“Uh, I don’t think so. There’s a difference. When I get turned on, people will be able to see it, Jungkook. And keeping in mind those tight, tight jeans you own, I’m sure that’s committing public indecency to some extent. So, therefore, I should be able to jack off. Stop looking at me like that! It’s not like I want to jack off but there’s a possibility I’ll have to.” 
When you don’t hear any protests, you look to him and study his face. It’s weird but you feel some sense of pity as you take in the way he’s deflated in his seat before you let out a conceding huff. “Fine, you can masturbate in my body as well. Just… be careful.”
The joviality is instantly visible as you grit out the permission. “Holy shit, that might be the only good thing about this.”
“Shut up,” you groan as Jungkook turns into a street full of lavish highrises, filled with apartments you could only guess where inhabited by the elite. Whoever this guy was, his business must’ve been successful if this was where he lived. “But no sex.”
“That, I can agree on,” Jungkook says as he parks up.
“Stop gawking like that, you’re making me look goofy,” Jungkook chastises you as the both of you wait for his friend to answer the door. It’s not like you can help it; you feel worth less than a dollar by simply standing in the hallway of the penthouses for millionaires. The whole place oozed of money, from the marble floors to the mini chandeliers that hang from the ceiling. Not that you had ever been there, but you felt like this was as close a glimpse of inside the Four Seasons hotel you could ever get.
Snapped out of your daze, you huff and Jungkook’s constant pessimism which has quickly reappeared after a five minute break. “You always look goofy,” you say with an unaffected, cool voice which Jungkook still somehow is able to mimic.
“So then, you must be into the goofy type, I gather, considering how-,”
It is a silent blessing that Jungkook is stopped from beginning a new fuss, you thank the divine for that one subtle mercy, by the opening of the large door, emitting a creaking sound throughout the whole hallway. Whatever image of you had envisioned Jungkook’s friend to be, this man was certainly not anything like it. At this point, after meeting Yoongi and now this guy, you’re considering asking Jungkook to host an orgy and invite you, after this whole thing is over, if all his friends are this good looking.
The man is the same height are you (read: Jungkook’s body) but has a thinner build and slightly deeper complexion, you quickly observe from a first glance. His face is angular and his eyes, decorated with gold, circle-lense glasses, are heavy-lidded as though he’s just awoken from a nap. Wearing only silk pajama pants and a robe that’s slipping off one of his shoulders, it leaves a generous amount of tanned skin revealed that you would very much like to take time to properly appreciate but would rather not pop a random, unexplained boner.
“Jungkook!” He exclaims with such a low, velvety voice when his eyes land on you. All you do is give him an acknowledging nod and pained smile. Right, he doesn’t know yet, you assess by the way he acts as though you genuinely are Jungkook. Moving out the way to let you into his home, he slaps your butt as you walk past which took you off guard. His brown eyes slide to the female figure as Jungkook follows you. “And this is?”
“Y/N,” you answer first, your name feeling odd on your tongue in such a situation. You don’t miss the way the guy takes his time to have a proper look at you and you almost lose your act entirely when you consider how uncomfortable Jungkook must feel being checked out by his friend.
“A pleasure,” he says with a small grin as the door shuts behind him, “I’m Taehyung.” You’re biting down on your lip so hard, you’re near drawing blood when you see how awkward Jungkook is in smiling back but you’d rather not break down into yelps of laughter so early on. “Let’s go the living room so you can tell me about whatever it is you needed me for.”
There is a spa-like aroma that follows throughout the whole place, with a scent of what you think might be jasmine, and many creative, slightly weird, accessories decorating the walls. The whole spiritual and tantric thing this guy apparently had going on is beginning to become a bit more believable as you continue to follow him till you reach the living room the looks over the rest of the city. “Geez,” you mumble absent-mindedly as you take in the sight, sitting down on the sofa.
“So, what’s up?” Taehyung speaks and you’re ripped away from your daze.
To explain this is probably the hardest challenge you’ve ever been tasked with. A sudden silence takes over as the two of you both struggle to find the right words to explain. 
Taehyung’s eyes dart between you, and before you’re able to come up with something, he cocks his head to an angle and looks at you disapprovingly, taking a guess. “Jungkook, you did not get her pregnant did you?!”
“What?! No!” You hear Jungkook immediately respond, straightening up in the seat he’s taken beside you. You grimace at the very thought of something so unpleasant - even more so that the actual truth.  “It’s nothing like that,” he quickly corrects, “It’s something a lot… weirder so you need to be a little prepared to hear us out.”
“I’ve had people asking me if I’m interested in partaking in toe fetish tantric sex. Go ahead, honey,” Taehyung urges like he’s not going to be surprised at all, as if he’s seen it all before this.
You bite the bullet. “We’ve swapped bodies.”
Taehyung blinks once and then twice, still wearing that permanent small smile. “Come again?”
“Swapped bodies. As in I’m Jungkook and that,” Jungkook makes a show of pointing to you, “Is Y/N. We don’t know how, and before you ask, no, I haven’t taken acid for months. We just woke up and it was like this and we have no fucking idea how it happened and you’re the only person I know who might have some modicum of experience with this shit.”
The grey haired man looks serious, which puts you at some level of relief instantly. You had prepared yourself for him to roll his eyes and kick you out like drunk teenagers, but instead he sits with a contemplative look about him whilst Jungkook continues to ramble on. “So… you’re not actually Jungkook,” he slowly starts, eyes boring into you before moving onto Jungkook, “... she is.”
Both of you nodding avidly at this basic understanding, Taehyung leans further into his seat and hums in thought, revealing both nipples in the process to which you try your utmost not to stare at. 
“A bodyswap? Hm. I don’t know, man, I’ve never really encountered this. But I might be able to find something to help you out a bit, at the very least,” he says and glances over to the bookshelf that takes up an entire wall before back to you. “So don’t get your hopes up. But whilst I get out some useful material, explain what lead up to this.”
You look at Jungkook expectantly, waiting for him to go on, but the bastard shakes his head and nods to you. With a final glare, you inhale and explain as Taehyung begins to sort through his row of books. “We didn’t really even know each other till the night before it happened. We met at this new club and shared a few drinks before taking it back to Jungkook’s place to, well, take it up a notch,” you gingerly explain.
Taehyung hums along as he listens, pulling out a heavyweight book and then another, before returning to the sofa. “Safe sex, I hope?” He asks as he gives you a waggish grin.
“You know I don’t go in raw on the first time, Tae,” Jungkook easily responds, looking hurt by the very question itself.
He shrugs. “Just checking.” The first book lands on the table with a resounding thud, it’s sheer width larger than probably your own face. Taehyung wets finger before flicking through, diagrams and words you find are completely foreign to you but Taehyung seems to know exactly what he’s looking for so you patiently wait, unable to ignore the rise of anxious thoughts. What if he can’t help?
“Ah!” Catches your attention when Taehyung finally settles on a page with a satisfactory smile. “It reads here that magic that’s intended to modify or completely change a human’s physical state can only be achieved through intake of a liquid or solid substance,” he reads off the page before adjusting his glasses, the handwriting far too small and cursive for you to follow so you listen closely instead. “So, through a food or drink with the magic ingredient, no pun intended, hidden within.”
The other male squints in doubt at the information. “Are you sure this stuff is reliable? Magic, Taehyung?” He scoffs and folds his arm, as if logging off entirely. His nearly instant rejection earns a dirty look from you.
“How on earth do you think something like this happens, Kook? I know you’re not a fan of this stuff but you have to admit, there’s no other explanation and this is possibly the only thing that can help you so I suggest you heed what I say,” Taehyung lightly chides, only momentarily glancing up from his studies to give the other a levelled look. You internally rejoice at the mature admonishing of Taehyung.
“Of course and then we can both sign up for you Dark Arts classes, Professor Snape.”
“Anyways.” He punctuates his words with an eye roll before reaching for the other book and flipping through like he did the first, “That’s as far as the first book divulges about cases similar to your own but if you were questioning how it came about, that should answer it. As for curing it... “ There’s a weighted quietude as you anxiously wait for further information. It goes on for a minute or so before Taehyung continues, not before deflating with a sigh. “I can’t find anything that might fix this. There’s no reverse, and I certainly am no connoisseur of potions so I could barely attempt it if there was one either.”
Jungkook humphs, almost triumphantly despite the bad news. “I told you it wouldn’t make a difference.” This time, you are unable to withhold yourself and give him a gentle whack on the arm.
“Shit. What are we going to do?” You mumble, hopeless, after a few moments, hunching your back as your forehead presses onto your legs as the news properly marinates in your mind.
Your midway figuring out how you’re going to spend the rest of you life living in this body when Taehyung finally speaks. “Not necessarily,” he has a calm voice, far from distress unlike yourself. “I’ve heard of these cases before, despite not actually being involved with one till now.” Curiously, you peek up from your depressive state and Jungkook, thankfully, keeps quiet in the small pause.
“I can tell you that this isn’t something that’s never happened before and I’m confident that this will certainly not be permanent.”
A scintilla of hope slowly retreats to you and you straighten in your seat. Glancing to the boy beside you, you even notice, although he tries hard to hide his interest, he has one eyebrow raised in question. “A-are you sure?” You hesitate.
Taehyung offers you a reassuring smile, and when you search, you detect no mendacity. “Positive, sweetheart. There’s no amount of magic that can carry on for so long, unless you meet Gandalf or something, you’ll live to see yourself back in your body again. Potions always wear off, there’s never one that’s permanent so that’s a positive. For now, I suggest you think back to the moments when you two shared any type of food or drink.”
“The bar. That’s the only time we drank together before this,” you immediately answer, leaning forward.
“So, either one of the bartenders or a random person intercepted your drinks and boom, there’s your culprit. Not that you can prosecute them or anything,” Taehyung says with a light-hearted snort in spite of the atmosphere, tugging his robe up again for it to only slip down once more, as if the laws of science want to see him naked as much as you do.
Jungkook clears his throat, both heads turning to him. “You said this was temporary.”
“Pretty sure, I did,” Taehyung happily agrees.
“How long is temporary, do you think, in this situation? Like, a few days. Maybe a week at max?”
“Ha! A week? That’s funny.” Scratching at the back of his neck, Taehyung’s features contort into a sheepish grin when the two of you stare at him. “Hm. For this to wear off, my rough estimate would be, maybe... six months or so?”
Although you’ve found it hard to agree on nearly anything with Jungkook up till now, you’re certain that you hear the sound of both of your hearts sinking into complete pits despair.
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