#and move to some place safe from this chapter

[bread-crum206]

A Game of Hearts

Chapter twelve: Under Watchful Eyes

Summary: Y/N’s father is a VIP for the games, he makes a deal with the Frontman that if he marries his only daughter that he will continue to sponsor the games. However, Y/N is not fond of this decision as she loathes the games and in turn, loathes the Frontman as well. Will she grow to love him? Will he let his walls down?

P t 1 P t 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10 Pt 11 Pt 12

In-ho’s presence was a fortress around you. The second those VIPs started circling, closing in, you felt it—his body went rigid, his movements sharp, calculating. His mask still covered his face, but you could feel the weight of his every decision through the air. He was a wall between you and them, and you clung to that wall like it was the only thing that could keep you from crumbling under the pressure.

The VIPs weren’t hiding their excitement anymore. They were pushing forward, murmuring to each other with that sickening tone, their eyes hungry, searching for any crack in your armor. It made your skin crawl, the way they watched you, the way they talked about you like you were nothing more than a toy to pass around.

You couldn’t let them see how scared you were. Your legs were shaking, but you refused to show it. Instead, you pressed your hand to In-ho’s back. It wasn’t for him, really—he didn’t need reassurance. It was for you. His body was so solid, so unshakable, that it grounded you, even if just for a moment.

And then, like a shadow looming over everything, he appeared. The man in the panther mask stepped forward, his presence practically oozing arrogance. You could feel his eyes on you even before he spoke. “Oh, come on, don’t be like that, Frontman,” he said, his voice low, slick like honey but with a venomous edge. “Your job is to please us, remember? To meet our needs.”

The words hit you like a slap. The air turned colder, tighter. You wanted to shrink away, to disappear into the wall behind you, but In-ho didn’t flinch. His back remained straight, his posture strong, like he wasn’t going to let them tear you apart, not if he had anything to say about it.

The pack behind the panther-masked man started laughing—low, cruel chuckles that only made your stomach churn harder. Some of them leaned forward, eyes scanning you like you were a prize to be fought over, something they could break and take for themselves. It wasn’t the first time you’d felt like prey, but this time? It felt like they were all waiting for In-ho to slip. And if he did, you knew there was no way you could escape them.

But In-ho didn’t slip. He didn’t even budge. His voice, when it came, was like a warning. “No,” he said, his tone smooth but firm, like he’d just drawn a line in the sand that none of them could cross.

You could feel the tension rise. The panther-masked man didn’t back off. Instead, he just tilted his head, like he was sizing In-ho up, testing him. “You seem to forget your place, Frontman,” he said, stepping closer, the mockery thick in his voice. “You’re here to serve us. All of us.”

The other VIPs seemed to edge closer too, sensing the shift, their eyes dancing from In-ho to you. You could feel them closing in, their hunger more than just physical. It was like they were watching a spectacle, waiting to see what would break first: In-ho’s resolve, or yours.

In-ho’s hand never moved from his side, but you saw the tightness in his fingers. He wasn’t going to back down. You could see it in the way he stood, unmoving, the line drawn in the sand.

The panther-masked man wasn’t done, though. He stepped forward, his eyes glinting with amusement as he spoke again. “You can’t keep her safe from all of us, Frontman,” he mocked, his voice almost playful. “You know what we like.”

The laugh of his posse rang out again, sharp and ugly, but In-ho didn’t so much as twitch. He kept his posture steady, his voice calm. “Step back,” he ordered, his voice quiet but heavy with meaning. It wasn’t a suggestion. It was a command. And somehow, they listened. Just for a moment.

The leader’s smile flickered, but only for a second. He wasn’t used to being defied, but he wasn’t stupid either. He knew better than to push In-ho too far. At least, not in this moment.

Instead of arguing, the panther-masked man turned toward the others, his voice rising just enough for the rest of the VIPs to hear. “We’ll see about this.” His tone was still mocking, but there was a chill to it, like he was putting a pin in the situation for now, waiting for the next round.

You didn’t take a breath until the crowd began to slowly pull back, still murmuring, still watching like they were waiting for the next fight to break out. In-ho didn’t relax, but his presence softened, just enough for you to feel the change. His hand brushed lightly over your wrist as he turned, silently guiding you toward the exit. His pace didn’t falter, and you followed him without question.

The second you were out of the room, In-ho’s grip on your wrist loosened, and you felt the weight of everything press down on you. You stumbled slightly, but In-ho caught you before you could fall. He didn’t say anything—he didn’t need to—but the moment stretched out, his hand still steady on your back as he guided you down the hall toward your quarters.

As you walked, you couldn’t shake the feeling of their eyes on you, the hunger of their stares still burning against the back of your skull. You didn’t even want to imagine what they were thinking, what they were planning.

When you finally reached your door, In-ho didn’t hesitate. He unlocked it, led you inside, and then closed the door behind him with a soft click.

For a moment, everything was still. The world outside seemed miles away, but the memories of those men—of the laughter, the jeers, the way they saw you as nothing more than a game—were still there, lingering in the air.

In-ho didn’t speak immediately. He simply removed his mask, the last barrier between him and you. The moment it came off, it felt like a weight had been lifted from the room. For the first time, you saw him fully—no cold eyes, no emotionless expression, just In-ho. The man who had just stood between you and those monsters.

For a split second, you caught a glimpse of what was hidden beneath the mask: the exhaustion in his eyes, the tension in his jaw. He didn’t need to say a word. You knew how heavy the situation had been for him too.

“You’re safe now,” he said quietly, his voice rougher than you expected. But there was relief in it, an assurance that he wasn’t going to let you go.

The words didn’t make you feel safe, not really. Not in this world. Not when you knew what was still waiting out there. But they did something else. They reminded you that, even if your father didn’t lift a finger, even if you were alone in the chaos, you had In-ho. He was here. And that, for now, was enough.

You didn’t say anything at first. You couldn’t. Everything felt too much—too raw, too new. The feeling of being watched, of being cornered, was still fresh, still eating away at you. But you could feel In-ho there, steady and unshaken, even when you couldn’t be.

And then, without thinking, you stepped closer, your hand finding his. It wasn’t a grand gesture. It wasn’t some romantic act—it was just a way to ground yourself. His grip tightened slightly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. And for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to exhale.

But the night wasn’t over. The game was far from finished.

———————

Chapter 12! Updates might be coming slower as I’m back in school but we’ll see.. lemme know what you think! Thank you! :)

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[honeyjars-sims]

Part 2 Prologue #1: Growth Mindset

Author's Note: I made some changes to my plans so the next few posts will be the prologue to Part 2 of Safe Harbor. They will fill in some gaps from the last chapter and set things up for the next chapter!

I’m preparing for my therapy appointment but this time instead of making the drive to Evergreen Harbor, I’m logging into our meeting on my PC. 

“So how are things going in San Sequoia?” Khadija asks me once we’re both settled in.

“It’s going great,” I tell her. It’s a little weird seeing her on the screen instead of in person, but before long our conversation feels as comfortable as ever.

“I’m glad to hear it! Is everything going okay with your roommate? I know you were a little apprehensive moving in with someone you don’t know that well.”

“Yeah, Paul’s pretty cool. I figured he would be, being Lucy’s brother and all. And everyone in the community has been welcoming.”

“So no secret cult activity?”

“Nope,” I laugh. “If anyone’s performing any rituals, they’re doing a good job of keeping it under wraps.” My impression of my neighbors so far has been that they’re mostly wannabe bohemians–they like the idea of a homesteading lifestyle but don’t want to fully commit to a life without modern luxuries. Pretentious, maybe, but not harmful.

“It sounds like you like it there.”

“I do. It’s different, but it’s fun. I’ve been helping out with the animals; you know, cleaning the chicken coop and milking the goat, stuff like that. I even helped hatch a chick!”

Khadija laughs. “I have to say, I never expected you to be out in the field doing labor.”

“I didn’t expect it either, but it’s not that bad. I guess I’ve been doing a lot of new stuff lately. Paul convinced me to join a yoga class and I think it’s helped me relax. And would you believe I’ve been doing cross-stitch?”

“Cross-stitch? I wouldn’t have pictured that either, but it sounds nice.”

“Yeah, it takes a lot of patience because I messed up a lot at first, but it's kind of relaxing in a way.”

“Relaxation seems to be a big focus for you right now.”

“I guess so. I’ve been trying to find new ways to regulate my emotions like you suggested. Honestly, I’m feeling really good right now.”

“I can tell. I’m really proud of your progress, Johnny. I can see you’re really putting in the work.”

“Yep, even when it comes to the hard stuff, like having to talk to Lacey, I’ve been able to work through my feelings and do what I need to.”

“Oh yeah, how did that go by the way?”

“It was okay. I just told her what I said to you, that I think she’s a really great person and I value her friendship, but I just don’t have romantic feelings for her. And I apologized for leading her on.”

“How did she take it?”

“Pretty well, I guess. I could tell she was disappointed, maybe even hurt, but she was cool about it. Work was a little awkward for a bit but I think we’ve worked past the worst of it.”

I'm glad that Lacey and I are still friends, but I do feel bad still about how everything went down with her. She's everything that I thought I wanted, but for some reason, it just wasn't clicking for me. The whole thing makes me more empathetic to what Lexie went through when she broke up with me; it really doesn't feel much better to be on the other side of things.

“Well, I’m proud of you for doing the right thing, even if it was difficult. I think it says a lot that you’re trusting your own feelings and not getting hung up on what you think you should do. I’d like to see you do that more often. How does that sound to you?”

“Good, but a little scary,” I answer. 

“A little fear is understandable as long as it’s not keeping you from growing. I think you can work through it, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I think so.” I wasn't sure I'd ever get to this place, but for once in my life, I actually feel like I can handle whatever's coming my way. And I can't wait to take it on.

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[papasbaseball]

The Wizard x Reader (Wonderful Wonderful Girl) | Chapter 11

Pairing: Wizard x F!Reader

Rating: Mature (Rating to Increase)

Warnings: Power Imbalance, Boss/Employee Relationship, Graphic Depictions of Violence

Summary: Being a maid in the Royal Palace of Oz is not half so bad. Despite the meager wages, everything else is provided for you for an honest day's work. It can be unnerving working for the most powerful man in Oz, but you are able to avoid him most of the time. This changes during Lurlinemas, your paths soon becoming inextricably intertwined.

Word Count: 2,438 of 29,558

Start | Prev | Next

AO3 Link

Frottica has no friendly faces to offer us, only howling wind and bitter cold. If the air was thin in Wittica it's threads of ice this far up in the mountain range. It's good and I like it that way. As each arctic gust blows my black peacoat open and stabs me with a chilled knife, I feel the tether of reality to my situation.

I moved back into the sleeping cabin after we left Wittica, and to the Wizard's respectable credit, he hadn't brought up how I had shut down after the meeting with Morrible. Madame Morrible, actually. They were so familiar that when I asked him if we would see her again at Rouncible, he gave me a queer look as if I had addressed her by some childish nickname. She was a woman of great accomplishments and Headmistress of Shiz University. It would be a great faux pas if I were to ever address her as anything other than Madame Morrible.

The possibility of accidentally insulting someone else once we get to the safe house has been eating at me since that moment. All of this, the war and secrecy, was so foreign and new. What I had experienced back in the Emerald City between the Wizard and Ambassador Humak was shallow compared to the depths of the political web of Oz that we were now swimming in, groping for any sort of lifeline.

Once in the train station, we make our way up to the counter and the Wizard asks for any correspondence for and Oscar Diggs or Engine 1701.

"Mail's running late," the concierge says, "but there is a letter that came yesterday for Engine 1701." He fishes out a mint green envelope from one of the back cubbies and gives it to the Wizard.

"It's for you," the Wizard says, almost astonished. He hands me the envelope, and I can see that it’s from Bruno back in the Emerald City.

"How?" I ask, smoothing my thumb over my name, trying to see if the ink is real. "The city is under siege."

"He must've snuck it out," the Wizard says. "Come on, let's get some lunch."

We walk to the diner, and I glide my finger underneath the seal, trying not to tear the delicate paper. I’d have to find a safe place to put it once we got back on the train. "This means he's alive," I say as we sit down.

"It means that he was alive when he sent it," the Wizard corrects. "I haven't gotten news of death tolls yet... Hopefully, we'll get some today. I'm sure they're still... counting bodies.

I pull the letter from the envelope. The top right corner of the paper was addressed two days prior.

"We made it through the night," I recite. "Prince Fiyero has escaped, and we're still looking for the Grimmerie, but we have rid the palace of any Winkies. The ambassador probably stashed it somewhere in the palace thinking he'd be able to come back and get it.

"I checked on Fileah this morning. She's alright. A little shaken, but alright. I'm making sure that the kids there have enough food and heat. That place is like an ice box. It isn't right. Kids with no coats and the fires are nothing but coals. Fileah wanted to know where you were. I tried to explain it to her without talking about the ongoing investigation, but I don’t think it made much sense. She asked when she could see you again. I told her that it would hopefully be soon.

"We haven't gotten a good count of the dead yet, but it's good you got out when you did. A few bystanders were killed in the attack. The Gale Force is looking into identifying them so their families can be informed, but they've been stretched thin with spy efforts lately.

"It's a huge risk putting all of this into a letter, but I'm doing my best to get it smuggled out of here and away from enemy hands. I've got a friend in one of the amnesty medic units, but even that is not guaranteed safe. Don’t expect further correspondence from me.

"Tell the Wizard that we're working around the clock to find ways to break through the roadblocks and get the city restored. We'll succeed or die trying.

"-Bruno."

We sit in silence together, letting the verbal ghost of Bruno linger. The Wizard stares at the letter, tapping his index finger against the table.

"That's it?" he asks.

I flip the letter over; nothing is on the back. "That's it," I reply.

He drags his hand over the lower half of his face, leaning back into the booth. "They haven't even counted the dead yet," he says to no one in particular.

Those words linger over the meal as we half-heartedly eat our bacon sandwiches and drink watery burnt coffee. Every bite feels like a herculean effort, knowing that my own sister is being kept in a freezer and that Bruno alone is seeing to her being fed while also fighting a siege. If I was ever going to see her again, I would have to find a way to slip away from the Wizard, before we got on that train to Rouncible.

We head back to the concierge to find that mail has arrived with two envelopes for Oscar Diggs in care of Engine 1701. If I pretend I have a question to ask the conductor once we get back to the train, I think, then I can get away and have time to hide.

"Anything good?" I ask him. I have to act normal.

"Death tolls," he says quietly, eyes glued to the one paper. We slip away from the counter where people might hear us and onto a wooden bench meant for passengers heading back to Wittica. This far up into the Pertha hills, there are hardly any trains that continue north. There were a few smaller villages up north and the hunting lodges for the particularly wealthy, but they were so few and far between that the board for departures going north only showed one time of departure for seven o'clock this evening.

"How bad?" I ask, placing a reassuring hand on his forearm. He turns from the paper, briefly glancing to where I have touched him, and then looks me in the eye.

"Hundred of the palace guards. Half the Emerald Guard. Some party guests," he says.

I squeeze his arm, trying to let him know that everything will be okay. "We can come back from it. There's always the backup of Gillikin."

He doesn't say anything to that, simply moving on to the next letter. This one is from Governor Thropp. Good news that makes me breathe a sigh of relief. A favor repaid was exactly what the Wizard needed. He tears the letter open and as he reads it his face darkens into a grave expression.

"Thropp isn't coming," he says.

There are no good words to say to that. It's impossible. I know nothing of the man, but everything of the Wizard. You did not refuse the Wizard of Oz. Whatever power he had, he had earned the name Oz the Great and Terrible. He was the Wonderful Wizard of Oz and all of the benevolence that came with the title. Maybe he didn't get everything he wanted, but it would be unthinkable to refuse him. To be in direct rebellion would be a sign of wickedness of the heart.

The Wizard gets up from the wooden bench and walks silently toward the exit for the train platform. I follow after him, my pathetic boots clicking on the tile floor to match his long strides.

"Morrible said she was going to talk to the Lord-Mayor," I offer, trying to bring some ray of shining hope back into the situation.

He doesn't respond to that.

"A thousand guards is more than enough to replace what we lost," I offer. We are back to the train car and he turns on me.

"I don't want to hear it!" he snaps, startling me. "I am good as dead without Thropp's help. I have no way of forcing him to help if all of my troops are locked in an Emerald Box. Do you get that? Everything…. Everything that I have built for the past fifty years is about to be rocks. It’s going to be rubble. Just..." He shuts his eyes and inhales deeply, hands held up to silence. "I need time to think. I- I need to be alone."

I can feel my bottom lip trembling as he steps into the passenger car and shuts the door behind him. This is what I wanted, right? To be left unsupervised so that I could slip off? There are a few strangers milling about the train station – bums, really, with the holes in their clothes and shoes worn fabric-thin – but I need to be alone. I need privacy. My hand reaches for the passenger car handle but shies away from it. The train station seems like exactly the wrong place, so I hop down onto the tracks, hoping to find some engine heading back to Wittica. As I step around engine 1701,  I peer into the cab, hoping that the conductor has stepped away for a bit.

Unfortunately, when I get to the doorway, I can see a man in a sooty gray uniform – probably a railway worker – sweeping coal dust out from the cab floor of the engine. I try to slip away without notice but he calls out to me.

"Oy! Miss! You can't be running around the tracks!" he shouts. "You're going to get run over."

"I'm sorry," I say, feeling my cheeks burn as if I were a child scolded. Near the engine component, the smell of smoke and ash is unavoidable. It makes it impossible to think about anything else besides wanting to hold your nose. There is a creeping fear that if you breathe too deeply you'll die hacking up a lung.

"Well then get off alright?" he says. "I'm pulling this engine out in ten minutes and I don't want anything gumming up the works."

I hurry back around the train, wishing that I could punch him for ruining my plans. I have ten minutes to disappear before the Wizard comes out to get me.

Once back up on the platform, I walk down it quickly enough to put some distance between me and the train. I need to be careful not to walk too fast so that anyone looking might make note of me and report which direction I went to the Wizard if he came looking. Frottica is almost identical to Settica and I smile for a moment thinking how funny it is that the two towns form drab slices of bread for the colorful sandwich of Wittica. There are some plain-looking shops just ahead: a tailor, a bakery, a bank. Those will be the first places he looks. I make a right turn down the cobblestone street, pulling my coat tighter around me from the biting wind. Wherever I'm going, I need to get there soon, before I get frostbite.

I scan the shops, trying to swallow the fresh memory of the Wizard tearing into me. It really was my fault for setting him off like that. Why couldn't I have just kept my big mouth shut? It was so obvious that things had gone from bad to worse with the lack of support from Munchkinland. A thousand guards would not be anywhere near enough if his estimates of a 5000-strong Winkie host were true. Optimism only got you so far, and even I knew that. Why else would I be running away to save my sister by myself? Whatever magic he holds would do no good if she ended up dead.

I turn the corner, thanking the Unnamed God that I am finally doing what's right. If I had stayed on that train I might as well have signed her death certificate. I would need to come back here and find the railway worker someday to thank him. If he hadn't told me that the train was pulling out in ten minutes-

I stop, trying to put two and two together. Maybe it had been the awful choking smoke or the biting cold, but the man who was in the cab of the engine looked nothing like the barrel-chested and balding man from the boiler room.

I grab my head, trying to focus. I need to keep going, to get out of here before someone comes looking for me. And yet, here I am worrying about some stupid train conductor… or was he a railway worker? My feet refuse to budge any further down the cobblestone street.

Something is wrong. I don't know how long I've been gone, but if I can warn him, maybe he'll listen. If something really is wrong he can fix it and I’ll find another way to get away while he’s fixing it. My hand grips the ten dollars in my pocket as I race back to the train. It's a promise: a promise that after this, it'll be the last time I see him.

I'm wheezing when I get back to the platform, the thin and icy air stabbing my lungs with its crystalline fingers, but I can't help smiling. The train is still there. I made it in time. Ten yards away from the platform, the train blows its whistle and slowly the smile drops from my face. My legs are still running, but I know I won't be able to get off if I get on. Smoke has already started to billow up from the stack.

The thought about optimism from earlier occurs to me. He wasn't guaranteed to save my sister, only I could do that. But if there was something wrong with the train conductor, who would warn him? Who was there to save him?

The wheels creak forward and I push my legs harder and faster into the ground, diverting my course toward the moving train. I reach the door and heave it open to find the Wizard standing there. He pulls me in and shuts the door.

"I felt the train start moving and I- I didn't realize we were leaving so soon." His eyes roam over me, taking in my wind-reddened face and the way I'm gasping for air. "I'm sorry that I said that stuff earlier. It's just that-"

"Something's wrong," I cut him off, wheezing. "The train... Something's wrong."

[karespocketboyfriends]

𝙸𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍

Chapter Three

A Love and Deepspace Fanfiction (Sylus X OC)

Warnings -> Side character death, implications of addiction

<- Chapter Two

An original fan-fiction for Love and Deepspace. I appreciate reblogs but reposting to Tumblr or any other site is not okay with me.

When it rains, it pours.

And it's fucking pouring.

“Sorry!” I exclaim to the poor group of kids that are forced to jump apart in order to avoid being run over by me.

The sky, dark as it may be for the late morning hours, is clear, not a drop of rain in sight. The tragedy I witnessed last night kept me tossing and turning, had my nerves shot to a point of being unable to relax. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the man, Anthony, dying before me. Felt his blood coating my skin. Saw a pair of gemstone red eyes that exposed me right down to my soul.

At some point, I did manage to fall asleep. What I woke up to wasn’t my alarm, but my brothers making a mess of the kitchen. It didn’t take long for the realization that I had slept in to cut me like a dagger. The realization that I was late for work stabbed through me like an ancient sword.

I almost forgot to take my medication on my rush out the door, and forgetting that would have been the cherry on top of this disaster cupcake.

My calves are burning, lungs threatening to give out, but I push myself around the last corner and down another quarter block until I reach Tomes. It blends in with the rest of the modern day architecture, much so that it doesn’t even look like a bookstore, but it’s precious to me regardless. Tomes has been my first and only job, the place that’s filled with the material thing I love most and kind enough to help me keep my brothers and I housed and fed. Maybe not very well, but it’s saved us from being out on the street.

I almost fall on my ass in front of the glass door lined with bars to keep thieves out, partly because of how abruptly I halted, and partly because of the large ‘Permanently Closed’ sign hanging on the door.

“What?” I whisper through my fight for breath, the shock of the sign making it even more difficult to calm my racing heart.

No matter how many times I read it, the letters don't rearrange themselves. My mind doesn't spot a trick my eyes are playing on me.

Chest heaving, I stumble to the door and pull on the vertical handle. It's not locked, so I let myself in. Everything looks just as it did last night, no sign of books being stored away or shelves being moved out. The register hasn't even been opened yet, the till missing and likely still locked up in the safe. The store is dead quiet, and no matter how hard I strain my ears, I can't hear any movement on the first floor. Above me, however, I hear footsteps.

"Russell?" I call, slowly making my way towards the staircase at the back of the store. I've never been to the second floor, because old man Russell lives up there. He did share the space with his wife, Edith, but that was up until she passed away three years ago.

I listen as the footsteps move across the ceiling, hold my breath as they slowly make their way down the stairs. The person who appears isn't elderly, or a man at all.

"Evie?" The woman breathes, one hand resting on her largely round stomach, her eyes red and raw.

"Charlotte."

She's Russell's daughter, his pride and joy. He keeps a photo album behind the counter, and whenever there was free time, he would sit on a stool and flip through it. He's shared with me story after story of the photos, so even though Charlotte and I weren't very close in school before I dropped out, I feel as though I know her like a best friend.

"How are you? How's the baby?" I ask, trying to remain polite despite the questions racing through my mind.

Her laugh is strained as she draws a circle on her bump. "He's healthy. A big mover." She carefully makes her way down the rest of the stairs, and after reaching the bottom, leans against the banister. "I'm sorry, I didn't know how to contact you. I'm still going through dad's stuff."

I swallow the lump in my throat. "He... He's not...?"

Charlotte flashes a sad smile and nods, fresh tears brimming in her eyes. "Yeah. He didn't call me this morning, so I came to check on him. It'll take a while for the autopsy, but he didn't have any physical wounds."

Closing my eyes, I suck in a deep breath and struggle to keep my voice from cracking. It does anyway. "I'm so sorry."

"Me too." She looks down and rubs her belly again. "He was so excited to meet the little one. He never said it, but when he found out I was expecting, I think he was having regrets about waiting so late to have kids."

In, out. In, out. Mentally, I'm focused on my breathing. Whatever comes out of my mouth is pure instinct. "I can't say for sure, but I do know that he loves you. Russell would never regret that."

Charlotte laughs a little and looks up at me again. "You haven't changed. You're still a beam of sunshine, aren't you?" The lightness in her expression falls bleak once more. "Um, listen, about the shop-"

It's my turn to sport a sad smile. "I saw the sign."

"I'm sorry, Evie, but the money I'd get from selling this place is more beneficial to me than to keep it."

"You don't have to explain. You have a family to look after. I get it." I nod towards the counter. "Russell keeps a phone book under the counter, my number's in there. If you ever need a friend, feel free to reach out."

My mind feels like its in a daze as we say our goodbyes. I don't even remember how we said farewell or leaving the shop, but the crisp air zaps me back the second I'm standing outside.

Russell's dead, a man who did more for me than my own father has, a man who hired a desperate young girl even though he really didn't have the budget for it back then. The memories of my time here start coming back to me, the busy days were he, Edith and I rushed around to get the orders stocked on the shelves, the quiet days where he'd place a record in the record player and waltz around the store with his wife. Every holiday, including my birthday, he'd let me pick a book from the store to take home and keep, claiming that my preferred reading material was just collecting dust and deserved a home.

I think he kept ordering romance novels for my sake, given that most of our customers came in for non-fiction.

The size of the sob stuck in my chest feels like I just swallowed a boulder, and no longer trusting myself to stay put together, I lean against the wall of Tomes and slide to the ground. I brace my elbows against the stops of my knees and push the heels of my hands onto my eyes until I see white.

The man I loved like a grandfather is gone, and although I want to do nothing but grieve, another thought blasts through it.

I'm jobless.

It feels selfish to think about it, but it's reality. I'm the breadwinner of the family, Drew and Mateo's shenanigans too unreliable to keep us afloat. If I don't work, my family is screwed.

"Come on, Evie." I whisper to myself, dropping my hands from my eyes. "You're a hard worker. You can find something."

Naturally, I went ignored by everyone who passed by. I'm probably the only freak in the N109 Zone who would stop to check in on someone who looks distressed. Or so I think.

"Evie?"

Looking up, I catch sight of a regular customer of Tomes. He's looking down at me with his eyebrows furrowed, curly strawberry blond hair falling in front of his forehead.

"Hi, Landon." I greet him while pushing to my feet and dusting myself off. "Did you come to purchase more books for your boss? Sorry, but the shop's closed. Russell passed away."

Landon sucks in air through his teeth. "Shit. Another good man gone, huh?"

"A great man." I fold my arms over myself.

I'm not sure exactly how old Landon is, but he can't be too much older than me. He's only got a few inches on me, but his boisterous energy makes him feel bigger than he is. He drops by the store weekly to pick up special order books on his boss' behalf, more rather, his boss' wife. I don't pry into our customer's personal lives, but Landon is a bit of an over-sharer, so I know his boss is in the jewelry business and that his boss' wife craves knowledge on all things.

"How are you taking the news?" He asks, the concern in his pale blue eyes genuine.

I shrug one shoulder. "I'm not sure. I just found out. It feels real but doesn't at the same time, you know? It probably won't sink in fully until I go job hunting."

Landon nods. "I get that. Well, it'll suck not to see you every week. I'm a man of routine." He tilts his head as if thinking. "I'm sure a girl like you will find work easily, but there is a small gig that can hold you over until then."

That has my ears perking up. "What kind of gig?"

He lifts a hand and scratches the back of his neck, letting out a small sigh. "To tell you the truth, my boss' wife has been battling an illness lately. The doctor ordered her to stay in bed, so she can't attend an upcoming gemstone auction with the boss man. It'd be a hit to his social status to show up to a big event like that alone."

My heart sinks into my stomach. "So, you're asking me to...?"

"It'd be one night, and the boss pays well." Landon laughs a little. "To tell you another truth, the reason I came today was to ask if you'd be interested. Boss asked me to try and find him a plus one, and you're not violent, so I wanted to ask you first. You'd just be keeping him company at the auction, nothing more."

My teeth sink into the inside of my cheek. I'm not in a position to be turning down a paying job, and Landon's boss is doing more than well financially-

White hair, crimson eyes, and a stone cold expression flash in my mind. My heart leaps and starts hammering against my ribs.

My mouth suddenly feels dry, and I swallow just for the sake of moving my throat muscles. "I'm flattered that you thought of me, but I just got out something hectic. I don't think I'd be very comfortable taking this job."

Landon looks disappointed, but he nods anyway. "That's fair." Still, he reaches into his pocket and hands me a business card. "Take this anyway, just in case you change your mind. Or get desperate enough."

I almost turn him down again, but the words vanish from the tip of my tongue at ‘desperate.’ Even if it’s the last thing I want to do, refusing an opportunity to keep food in my brothers’ stomachs would be silly.

Forcing a small smile, I take the card and tuck it into the pocket of Simon’s old jacket. He grew out of it a few years ago, but luckily it fits me enough to use until I can afford to replace the one I lost. “Thank you.”

Landon grins. “Of course. All the best to you, Evie.”

He gives me a playful salute before turning around and walking down the street. The card weighs nothing yet feels like bricks in my pocket, a harsh reminder of the hole I’m falling into.

I just hope I can find something to grasp onto before I hit the bottom.

When we had to find a new place to live after Dad bailed and left his children with rent they couldn't afford, there weren't many conditions our new living space had to meet. As long as Drew, Mateo and I could cover it with our pathetic paychecks, it would do. It was pure luck that this shabby apartment building we chose happened to be relatively quiet.

That's not the case now. I could hear the raging voices the second I hit the fourth flight of stairs, could practically feel the walls shake with the noise by the time I reached the fifth. Naturally, this sets me on high alert, and I lighten my footsteps as to not make the floorboards squeak as I move down the hall to my unit.

The voices only get louder.

They're coming from my unit.

My foot freezes an inch above the floor, talons made of ice sink into my chest cavity and shred it, making way for my pounding heart to drum loudly in my ears. It only lasts a second before I'm sprinting the remainder of the short distance and throw open the front door. The knob crashes against the wall with a loud bang, startling the four men inside so badly they jump and whip towards me.

I scan the room. The kitchen looks undisturbed, with the exception of dishes in the sink one or more of my brothers neglected to take care of. The living room isn't trashed, but the poor coffee table has suffered a beating. It's been flipped over, one of the legs snapped at an angle that would be extremely painful if it were human. Standing on either side of the abused furniture is my brothers, older twins on one side and younger twins on the other.

"What the hell is going on?" I ask, eyes shifting from my older brothers to younger and back again.

The boys roughhouse on a regular occasion, but the looks on their faces don't look playful, nor does the way they're standing. Drew is almost chest to chest with Mateo as if using his body as a block, while Simon has his arms wrapped around Troy's waist as if trying to hold him back. The two more hot-headed of the pairs have resumed their glaring contest.

"Evie, you're home early." Drew says, pushing Mateo until he sits on the couch behind him.

"Yeah, I'll explain later." I glance back and forth between the lot of them again. "Someone fill me in, please."

Troy tilts his head and grins in a way that's on the edge of sadistic. "Tell her, guys. Tell her what you've been running around doing every night and spending the family's money on."

My adrenaline was just beginning to climb down, but it spikes right back up. "You know?"

"We just found out." Simon replies, letting his brother go. It seems Troy is no longer interested in physical fighting. "You two tell her right now, or we will."

It's Mateo's turn to smirk. "Ass kissers."

Troy makes to lunge, but Simon catches him again.

"Enough!" I hold a hand up towards Troy, and turn my attention to the older two. "Out with it."

Drew sighs and drops into the empty space next to his twin. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees while running a hand over the top of his head. "We've been working at a club. Mateo's a bouncer and I bartend."

I give his confession a minute to sink in, and after that minute, I'm more confused than anything else. Bouncing and bartending aren't jobs to be ashamed of - they can pull in quite the extra cash in the form of tips, at least for bartending. It doesn't explain why they take more money from the account instead of adding to it more often than they do, but it answers one big question.

They haven't gotten involved in anything gang related, and knowing this now takes a massive weight off my shoulders.

I nod at them. "Thank you for telling me, but why did you feel the need to hide it in the first place? It's not something I'd judge you two for, you know that."

I can feel Simon and Troy growing impatient behind me, but I ignore them for now. I almost consider sending them out of the room, not wanting them to ruin things now that our older brothers have finally started to crack, but I don't. This is a family matter, and they're not children anymore. I don't want them to feel as though I still see them as little kids.

Mateo leans back, crosses his arms over his chest, and crosses his leg so ankle is resting on his knee. "Because we've been paying the dancers for private sessions."

I give his confession a minute to sink in, and after that minute, I'm... "I'm sorry, what?"

Drew sighs and starts to stand. "Evie-"

"You're paying dancers for attention? With the money you make every night plus the funds that are supposed to take care of us?" With every second that goes by, disbelief bleeds into anger. "Are you fucking kidding me right now?"

"If you're going to tell the truth, tell the whole truth." Troy snaps. He shakes out of Simon's hold and moves to stand next to me. "You know how we found out? They brought them here."

I'd rather be punched in the chest so hard I'm left winded than let that be true. "Don't tell me you're paying them for...?"

Drew, who decided to sit back down, hangs his head. Mateo has his face turned to the side, but even then, I can see him fighting to pretend that he doesn't care. Even as kids, the corners of his mouth would twitch when he tried to keep a careless expression.

I feel like I can't breathe, and yet, I can't stop words from coming out and using the precious air I'm struggling to keep in my lungs. "Are you two addicted? Because that's the only thing that would explain your lack of self control. For months I've been busting my ass to keep bills paid for, pulled my hair our trying to budget food and other necessities, trusting that whatever the two of you were up to would pay off in the end, and this is what you've been doing?"

Mateo snaps his head towards me and glares. "Not all of us are perfect little angels, Evie. Books aren't stress relief for everyone."

"Watch it." Simon hisses, appearing on my other side. "She's the reason we haven't starved and still have a roof over our head."

Mateo closes his mouth and turns away again.

I'm not done, not through with laying into them. "You know we're struggling to stay afloat, and not only are you blowing your entire paychecks on dancers, plus digging into the family funds to cover it, but you're also sneaking them in here? You're bringing strangers into our home? In the N109 Zone?"

For a long time, they say nothing. When they do, it's Drew who breaks the silence. "We're sorry, Evie."

Inhaling sharply, I ran my hands over my face. when I finally drop them, I clap my hands together and put on a sunny smile. "You two can start apologizing by getting your act together, because Russell's dead, which means I'm out of a job. I'm pulling the two of you off the account. Whatever we have left has to last until I find a new one."

I turn and storm towards my closet bedroom. The boys resume their bickering, but the migraine settling in my temples doesn't leave me much room to place peacekeeper. As soon as I lock myself inside, I make good on my word and change the password to the family's bank account. I'll slip the new password to Simon and Troy later, but until Drew and Mateo can be trusted, I can't risk them draining the measly three-hundred dollars left in the account.

The calendar app on my phone catches my eye as I close out of the online banking, and my heart sinks. Bills are due in a few days, and that is going to destroy the little savings we have.

"Fuck!" I screech, tossing my phone onto the mattress.

Pulling my knees up, I bury my head between them. The position pulls on my neck and makes my migraine worse, so I lay on my back instead. I didn't turn the light on, not wanting to aggravate my eyes further, but even in the darkness, I can see the outline of my dragon suncatcher hanging above me.

The corners of my eyes burn with tears, and in the shadows I whisper to it. "I don't know what to do."

Of course, it doesn't answer. I close my eyes and take in another deep breath, shove my hands into the pockets of Simon's jacket as I soak up the warmth it provides. I have every intention of taking a nap, numbing out the storm brewing inside of me, but my fingers brush against something that has my eyes snapping open again.

Pulling the small card out, I sit up and, despite the way it'll make my eyes sting, reach up to turn on the light.

"Take this anyway, just in case you change your mind. Or get desperate enough."

I don't want to. I really, really don't want to. Being an arm accessory to a complete stranger sounds like a nightmare, a great way to die and leave my brothers to fend for themselves.

But if I don't do this, we'll slowly die anyway.

Shoving every single emotion into the deepest parts of me where I can't feel them, I dial the number listed on the card. A male voice answers after the second ring.

"Landon? Hi, it's Evie." I look up at the red glass dragon and silently ask it to lend me its strength. "I've changed my mind."

Masterlist

Chapter Four ->

Tag List:

@xxfaithlynxx @angelafinstone

[possumsinpeoplesuits]

Okay I just finished the chain of scenes that this alteration caused, and I just need to compare: Draft 1: Two mages (Simon and Orin) fuck up a spell. Orin gets vaporized and has their soul shoved into the (Catgirl) chimera familiar they were making, next chapter is just them talking over what happened.

10k words, very sluggish pace outside of the scene with the spell.

Draft 2: Two mages fuck up a spell, but this time Orin fucking explodes, wakes up in said chimera body, but said explosion turned his skeleton into shrapnel.

The other mage collapses once he knows Orin's for sure alive and starts bleeding out on the floor. Oh fuck.

No time to process the body change yet, Orin starts running for help in the rain (changing the weather also made things more interesting.), tries to figure out who to go to for help.

Choices are: A frequently unpleasant alchemist who Orin doesn't think will even answer the door, or the druids who're slightly further away, but will for sure help.

Problem: Orin exploding made some noise, and now one of the (elven) battlemages sees a blood-covered chimera sprinting away from the source of the noise, and hits Orin with a stunning spell and skids his ass across the grass.

Now Orin's trying to explain things to said battlemages, struggling with elvish, but eventually communicates that Simon, a half elf, is hurt and needs help.

It becomes very obvious that neither battlemage cares, and are now actively wasting time. One's even about to stun Orin again and leave them- Enter the fucking alchemist Orin didn't think would help.

Said alchemist verbally tears the two a new asshole over having a very much naked humanoid on the ground, but once Orin blurts out that Simon's bleeding out, said Alchemist goes Big Damn Hero.

He tells the battlemages to get out of his sight before he "opens them like a pomegranate", leaves Orin in the lab with instructions on how to sick a golem on the two if they come back, very quickly figures out what he'll need to stabilize Simon at the location (including what Orin recognizes is a very expensive potion), and goes.

Once Simon's safe to move, he brings him back to his place with the help of a couple of neighborhood watchmen who also responded to said noise, and lets the two sleep it all off in the back room.

6k words. Fast, panicked, gives way more for everyone to do and introduced both the antagonists and gives a good bit of characterization to a supporting character who was only mentioned before.

Make. Your. Characters. Explode.

I feel like I just unlocked some fucking writing skill that I didn't know was a problem, but 100% noticed whenever it was missing.

I just solved a scene I'd been stuck writing for a month by making something blow the fuck up.

I cannot stress enough how much better it made the scene, and I will strive to put even more explosions in my future stories collections of WIPs that will never see the light of day.

[tender-rosiey]

from me to you — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: this takes place in chapter 268, soo sort of spoilers ahead? also long live gojo satoru; gojo leaves you a letter 🙏

“y/n-sensei, there is a letter for you as well!”

that catches your attention, and you look up at the first years. you tilt your head slightly, and yuuji hands you an envelope.

you gently take it from him, and the first thing you notice is “wifey” written on it then the doodle of satoru with his blindfold on. you feel your throat tighten, and your hands shake slightly.

you let out a small breath then shakily open the letter.

hey, honey!!

it first reads.

I feel like there is still much I didn’t tell you in our last meeting, so here I, your beautiful and handsome husband, am writing them down.

you swallow lightly, and a small smile appears on your face as you imagine satoru saying that, then you continue to the next line.

first, I changed all your computer passwords to variations of “satoruisthebest” at one point. your confusion was so cute!!

you quirk an eyebrow at the admission, but when you rack your brain, you remember that one day when you couldn’t log into your computer.

what you vividly remember was satoru being sat beside you the whole time, and now that you think about it. he was smiling so widely the entire time, letting out small chuckles every now and then. oh, that sneaky man.

“satoru, I am telling you it’s broken!”

“sweetheart, we spent over 2000$ on that. if it broke, then we could easily sue the company,” he chuckled, arm wrapping around your shoulder and pulling you closer.

“2 year guaranteed top performance my ass!”

you smile at the memory. it was pretty satoru of him to do that. your eyes then move to continue reading.

second, there are times when I would tell megumi that you would be coming with me, then he would turn and leave me when he found out I was tricking him.

your eyes glance up at said boy who is sat across of you. he made it out alive, despite everything. he suffered so much, but he made it.

it makes you relieved, and you can imagine satoru being bloody proud of him and saying something along the lines of ‘you handed sukuna’s ass to him, very cool!’

no matter how much megumi had frowned and grimaced at satoru’s presence or antics. it rooted itself as something—safe and familiar.

you can’t count on your hands the times when you and satoru would visit the siblings, and nobody really said it, but these meetings did all of you a favor, a chance to kind of wind down. maybe act like death might actually not be looming tomorrow.

it feels like just yesterday when megumi would cling to you when he got really sad or nervous, after so much time spent getting comfortable with each other.

he grew up well, you think, eyes gliding to next.

third, I hid your uniform every two to three weeks, so you have to stay with me.

at that, your eyes widen a bit. satoru’s schedule was pretty packed, but he somehow managed to squeeze time for quality time between you two.

it tugged on your heartstrings, and you made sure he knew how much you appreciated it, not a single space on his face left without a kiss. however, finding out that he went out of his way to make you rest and stay.

satoru’s care really showed in his actions, and you feel like this is the biggest proof of it.

“satoru, have you seen my uniform?”

“nope! maybe, it is a sign to stay home today? you’ve been working so hard, wifey!”

you cupped his face, pulled him down to your height, and kisses his cheek, “you’ve been working harder, ‘toru. let me take off some of the load at least.”

“we could both stay!”

“you’re kidding, right?”

“I already told yaga; I miss you!”

you try to stop the reminiscing further and try to compose yourself before reading the rest.

fourth, I’m the one who kept adjusting the thermostat. I just wanted an excuse to cuddle.

a fond yet melancholy smile appears on your face. you kinda figured that one out. satoru’s favorite pastime was cuddling, so it’s no surprise that he would go out of his way to create the need for it even further.

add to that, once you went to get some green tea and saw him from the corner of your eye teleport to the thermostat, click something, then teleport back to bed.

you figured that the room being chilly that night was not an exception in the middle of july.

“babeeee, it’s so cold! let’s cuddle!”

“maybe the problem is with the thermostat?”

“I checked! I think cuddling is the best solution.”

you giggle as you recall the moment, one of many similar. your heart feels a bit lighter as you go through the letter. something satoru managed to always do even in person.

he would plaster sticky notes, get you trinkets, and even pull pranks on other just to see you smile. feeling more encouraged, you keep on reading the letter.

then you feel your chest constrict so tightly that you might just throw up.

fifth, I am really gonna fucking miss you.

you read the line over again, and you purse your lip in hopes of silencing any noise that may come out as you feel the lump in your throat return, even worse than before. your breathing starts getting more difficult.

your grip on the letter tightens, and you find yourself thinking back to the good times. memories of late nights spent in each other’s arms, thinking about everything and nothing at once.

hushed whispers of confessions and quiet giggles as you reminisced on your highschool days. tight hugs when recalling the sad moments and the departure of a certain someone.

“you know, y/n, I think we might just be made for each other,” he said one night. you hummed and looked him in the eyes.

“three am thoughts?”

“three am admissions,” he grins slightly, “I am made for you, and you’re made for me.”

you remember him pulling you closer and kissing your forehead, while you teased, “and what would you need little old me for, so much that I got made?”

he feigns thinking then closes his eyes, burying his face in your shoulder, “grounding me.”

I love you. I really do, but you should know that already, right?

your eyes drift down to the corner of the paper, and that is when you feel your tears start free-falling. there is drawn a chibi satoru besides a chibi you and between them is a heart.

the chibi satoru is giving yours a big smooch, while she laughs. you never thought that the day your jealousy burns would be because of drawings, and drawings of you and your own husband, nonetheless.

“but wow, gojo-sensei is shit at writing letters,” you hear nobara remark.

megumi responds with a small chuckle, “I am fine with mine.”

“what about you, y/n-sensei?—”

the trio becomes silent as you let out a sob. a watery smile makes its way up your face as you kiss the letter gently and murmur, “so shitty.”

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do not copy or plagiarize or I will tell @callmemirro

check out my buy me a coffee!

[niennanir]

Listen to your elders

So last week I posted abut the importance of downloading your fic. And then three days later AO3 went down for 24 hours. No one was more weirded out by this than I was. But while y’all were acting like the library at Alexandria was on fire I was reading my download fic and editing chapter eight of Buck, Rogers, and the 21st Century. And also thinking about what I could do to be helpful when the crisis was actually over.

So first off, I’m going to repeat that if you’re going to bookmark a fic, you really need to also download the fic and back it up in a safe place. I just do it automatically now and it’s a good habit to get into.

But let’s talk about some other scenarios. Last October I lost power for over a week after hurricane Ian. Apart from not having internet or A/C I did find plenty to do, I collect books so I had plenty to read, but maybe, unlike me, your favorite comfort reads aren’t sitting on a bookshelf. So let’s do something about that, shall we?

In olden times many long years ago around 1995 we printed off a lot of fic. It was mostly SOP to print a fic you planned to reread and stick it in a three ring binder. And that’s totally valid today too, but you can also make a very nice paperback with a minimum amount of skill and materials.

Let’s start with the download; Go to Ao3 and select your fic, we’ll be working with one of mine. This method works best with one shots, long fic tends to need a more complicated approach. Get yourself an HTML download

Open up the HTML download and select all then copy paste into any word processor. Set the page to landscape and two columns, then change the font to something you find easy to read, this is your book, no judgement. This is all you have to do for layout but I like to play a little bit. I move all the meta, summary, notes to the end and pick out a fun font for the title: 

No time like the present to do a quick proofread. Congratulations, you’ve just created your first typeset. On to the fun part.

Now you’re going to need some materials:  8.5x11in paper ruler one sheet of 12x12 medium card stock (60-80lb) scissors pencil pen or fine tip marker sheet of wax paper white glue two binder clips 2 heavy books or 1 brick butter knife

You’ll also need a printer, if you’re in the US there is almost a 100% chance your local library has a printer you can use if you don’t have your own. None of these materials are expensive and you can literally use cheap copy paper and Elmers glue.

Print your text block, one page per side. Fold the first page in half so that the blank side is inside and the printed side out:

use the butter knife to crease the edge. Repeat on all the sheets. When you’ve finished, stack them up with the raw edge on the left and the folded edge on the right. I used standard copy paper, because you’re only printing on one side there’s no bleed to worry about. Take the text block and line everything up. Use the binder clips to hold the raw edge in place.

Wrap the text block in the wax paper so that the raw edge and binder clips are facing out. I’m going to use my home built book press but you don’t need one, a brick or a couple of books or anything else heavy will work fine.

Once the text block is anchored down, take off he binder clips and get out the glue.

You can use a brush but you don’t need one, smear some glue on that raw edge.

Go make a margarita, watch The Mandalorian, call your mother. Don’t come back for at least an hour

In an hour smear some more glue on there and shift your brick forward so that the whole book is covered. This keeps the paper from warping. While glue part 2 is drying we’ll do the cover. Get out your 12x12 cardstock

Mark the cardstock off at 8.5 inches and cut it. Measure in 5.5 inches from the left and put in a score line with the butter knife (the back edge not the sharp edge)

Carefully fold the score line, this is your front cover. You have some options for the cover title, you can use a cutting machine like a cricut if you have one, you can print out a title on the computer and use carbon paper to transfer the text to the cardstock. I was in a mood so I just freehanded that beoch. Pencil first then in pen.

Take your text block out from under your brick. Line it up against the score mark and mark the second score on the other side of the spine

Fold the score and glue the textblock into the cover at the spine. Once the glue dries up mark the back cover with the pencil and then trim the back cover to fit with your scissors.

Voila:

I’m going to put this baby on the shelf next to the Silmarillion.

The whole process, not counting drying time, took less than an hour.

If you want to make a book of a longer fic, I recommend Renegade Publishing, they have a ton of resources for fan-binders. 

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 38: Shattered

Summary: Things aren't okay. They never will be again.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 8,520 words

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, angst, PTSD, nightmares, POV changes, depression and anxiety, medical stuff, injuries, brief description of a possible death, language, mention of weight loss due to medical stuff, emotionally heavy chapter (again), slightly graphic imagery, illness, so much crying

A/N: I just want to make something very clear here since there's a scene in this chapter that might be interpreted this way, but 'mega is NOT suicidal. That's not something that's going to be in this fic, and neither is self-harm. It would have been well warned in advance if that was going to be something coming up in this fic. She's struggling a lot, but she's not suicidal, she's not going to become suicidal, nor will she self-harm even off screen. So don't worry. That's not what's happening. It won't be happening.

Okay, just wanted to make that clear. Enjoy the suffering!

11/30/24: **This chapter has been edited and rewritten from its original version**

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The scream slices through the silence seconds before chaos erupts. 

John is on his feet and out the door before Kyle is even fully awake. Simon is on his heels down the stairs, the two of them nearly colliding in their rush. His heart thuds in his chest as he sees your door open, the overhead light on. It’s bad. It must be bad if the overhead light is on. You hate the overhead light. 

He barrels in like a bull, ready to fight. The screaming has stopped, but it still rings in his ears. The fear, the panic. Something has happened. Someone got in. He should have made you take the room upstairs. He should have put a barrier between you and the door. That window. Someone could break that easily and grab you before they even noticed.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” 

The screaming has stopped, but gut-wrenching sobs have taken its place. He takes a moment to scan the room. Nothing is misplaced. The window isn’t broken, there’s no bodies, no one that shouldn’t be in there. 

“You’re okay.” Christine soothes you as you sob. “It was just a nightmare.” 

The bright fluorescent overhead light burns his eyes as he stands there, staring at the bed. Christine is right there, having beaten them across the living room, or perhaps she had already been in there, having heard you in your distress before they could. You're tucked in her arms, your face against her shoulder as she holds you. 

Nightmare. 

The safety and security the cottage promised has faded, leaving you at the mercy of the horrors your mind can conjure up in your sleep. Something twists deep in John’s stomach as he turns, motioning for the others to back up and give you some space. You won’t want them there, and things will only get worse if you notice them. 

His heart is still thudding in his chest as he stands there, the sharp sound of your scream still ringing in his ears despite his confirmation of your safety. The other three look just as startled as he feels, standing there tensely in the dark living room. He brings himself to move, turning his back on them for a moment to try and gather his thoughts as he flips on the lamp in the corner. It casts a warm light across the living room, far too warm for how he’s feeling. He’s trying not to panic, trying not to be sick on the floor from the worry. His heart is in his throat, trying to choke him. He’s trying so hard to be strong, not just for him, but for his pack, for you. 

He sinks down on one of the couches, rubbing a hand over his face. He had been so sure something had happened, that their safe little bubble had been breached and someone knew about their whereabouts. He had been so sure someone was trying to hurt you with a scream like that. 

Maybe someone was, but not in reality. 

What is it you dream about now? Your nightmares about your father and your traumatic presentation must seem like nothing now compared to what must haunt your mind. Do you dream of Graves and his torture? Do you dream of them leaving you behind? Do you dream of dying because of their failures? 

A hand settles on his shoulder, a body sinking onto the couch next to him. Arms are wrapping around him, easing him against a solid chest. 

He’s crying. 

He didn’t even realize the tears had started flowing. 

He can hear the reverberating voice in his head, yelling at him, telling him not to show such weakness in front of his pack, in front of his team. He’s supposed to be the strong one, he’s supposed to be the stable one keeping the pack afloat and steady. Yet here he is, breaking down in front of them. 

“It’s okay.” 

Kyle. 

His sweet Kyle. 

How he’s been neglecting his sweet beta, and yet, how willing Kyle still is to reach out and comfort him in such a time of visible distress. That’s what betas are supposed to do. Mediate and balance the emotions of the pack. How have they been coping with all of this? How have Kyle and Johnny been managing in such a time of disarray and upheaval? Have they been managing it? He doesn’t even know. He doesn’t even know the state of his pack, of the members of his team. 

What a failure he is. 

He lets himself lean against Kyle, something filling his chest as Kyle’s soft scent seeps into his senses. He’s projecting it, not just for John but also for the whole room. Johnny is crying too, soft sobs tearing from his chest as he sits on the other couch. Simon is on his knees in front of him, trying to get him calmed and breathing. 

They’ve been ignoring and denying each other for days, fraying the bonds further while trying so hard not to. The pain they’ve been causing in their emotional constipation and intentional neglect is almost worse than the pain caused by their infighting. At least fighting they were feeling something. At least fighting they weren’t cutting each other off so willingly. 

“We can’t do this anymore.” He says, his voice thick and shaky from his tears. “Cutting each other off. It’s not helping anything.” He doesn’t move from where he’s tucked against Kyle’s chest, letting the comfort wash over him for the first time in a week and a half. 

How he’s missed this. 

“It’s not doing any good for any of us.” Simon says, shifting onto the couch next to Johnny. 

“Especially not our omega.” Kyle says, voicing the thought flashing through all of their minds. 

“We may not be able to do much to help her right now, but we can focus on each other. That is something we can do.” John swallows thickly, his alpha starting to come back to life, his instincts aware again as he stares at Johnny and Simon. “Doing nothing isn’t good for any of us. We need to have something to focus on, something tangible we can do. Denying each other comfort isn’t going to help anyone.” 

“I full-heartedly agree.” 

John whips around, Christine standing in front of your closed door. He hadn’t even noticed her enter the room, hadn’t sensed her standing behind them. Johnny and Simon are the only two that don’t look startled, but they must have seen her come out from their position facing your door. 

“Sorry.” The corner of her lip twitches up in a smirk. “Thought you would have noticed.” 

John clears his throat. “How is she?” 

“Settled again.” Christine says, moving over to the chair. 

“How long has she been having nightmares?” Kyle asks. 

“Since that first day in the med center in Dallas.” She says, sinking into the chair. How heavy this must all be on her shoulders. “I’d almost call them more sleep hallucinations. Mostly of Graves. Seeing him in the room, being attacked by him.” 

“Is there anything that can be done to help?” John asks. 

“For these kinds of nightmares? Not really.” Christine folds her hands in her lap. “Her brain is trying to process what happened. Until she feels safe enough to truly begin working on processing the trauma, it’s likely the nightmares will continue.” 

“Is there anything we can do to help her feel safe?” Kyle says. 

Christine’s lips purse as she looks between the four of them. “I’m not sure any of you could do anything right now directly, at least. She’s not open to that yet. Working on your bonds with each other, though, could help her omega finally settle and allow her emotions to even out again. That can help her feel safer, remove that instability and the fear of losing control again.” 

All of them share looks, John and Simon staring at one another. They hadn’t even thought about that. Well, at least he hadn’t. Christine had told him months ago that omegas need their alpha when they distress, when their omega takes over. They can come back from it with the help of an alpha...their alpha. Without one, the chances of survival were slim. Yet here you are, trying to do it all on your own. Having to do it all on your own. 

That ache in his chest starts again as he stares at Simon. He sent Simon after you, he made Simon go through that process of seeing you in that state and scruffing you. He made Simon be the one to help you through that. He made Simon be there when you needed an alpha most because he couldn’t face the fact that he abandoned you, he left you behind like you were nothing but another faceless soldier. 

He wipes his face as the tears start falling again. He truly is a failure of an alpha. 

Despite Christine’s reassurances, John can’t help the automatic reaction to your screams. On his feet instantly, his heart pounding in his chest ready to fight bare handed whatever might be causing such a reaction. Whoever might be causing such a reaction. He can’t fight the demons in your head, though, and he’s always greeted by the sight of Christine by your side, comforting you as best she can. 

He wants to hate her, wants to be angry at her for taking his place, doing what he should be doing. His alpha scratches at his mind every time he sees her by your side, giving you comforts he should be giving, but it’s his fault. It’s his fault she’s the one there with you. It’s his fault you’re suffering so much. Those thoughts send his alpha crawling back into its cage with its tail between its legs. 

It doesn’t matter the time of day, whether it was a nap or the middle of the night, your screams have a pain throbbing deep in his chest. His heart is constantly racing, waiting for that rush of adrenaline at the sound of your terrified scream, at that rush of instinct to protect and fight. He’s not sure how much his heart can take. 

He might have a heart attack by the end of their stay at the cottage. 

That’s something he’s been trying not to think about. 

They can’t stay here forever, no matter how much he knows you’ll want to, how much the others will want to. Eventually they’ll begin to go stir-crazy, itching for something to do. They still have jobs, and Kate can only keep them off the radar for so long, and can only give so many excuses. Eventually they’ll have to go back. Eventually they’ll have to make that decision of what comes next. 

He’s going to delay that as much as he possibly can. 

They can’t go back while Shepherd is still out there. They can’t trust that anywhere is safe while he’s still skulking around, while he still has contacts that could put them all in danger. That could put you in danger. 

That’s not a risk he’s willing to take again. 

But what comes next? 

What will they decide to do? Can they go back, knowing what the inevitable will be? Can they take that risk of having to leave you again, put you through that constant fear and worry that they might not come back? What if they all leave again? Could you survive the fear that something might happen while they’re away again? Not to them, but to you? 

Could they leave you alone again? 

Those are thoughts for another day when they’re inevitably faced with the fact they have to return to society and their lives and jobs. 

They have time. 

He has to make sure you’re okay first. 

You’re not okay.

You’re so very far from okay. 

The bedside lamp is on, casting a golden glow around the room. 

There’s nothing there. There’s nothing there. 

It’s one of the rare times you’ve woken before you can react, before you can scream and alert everyone in the house that you’ve had a nightmare. They’ll all come running. All of them. 

You hate it. 

You hate the nightmares, you hate the fear, you hate the constant pain and worry and the constant knowledge that your pack is right there. They want to go back to how things were, they want things to go back to normal, but they can’t. They expect you to forgive them, to go back to loving them, but how can you after everything? 

They left you. 

They let this happen to you and they just want you to pretend like nothing happened. That’s what they would do. Go back to normal life after being tortured and forget it all happened because that’s what they do. 

You’re not them. 

You don’t want to be like them. 

Cold. Heartless. Uncaring. Unwilling to put anyone but themselves first. 

Fuck them. 

The only thing keeping you here is the fact you’re bonded to them. That, and you’re an omega. You’d get picked up off the street and brought right back here to your owner. Or, worse, you’d get picked up by someone looking for a cute little omega to add to their collection. 

Or worse. 

You’d get picked up by someone else. 

Graves. Shepherd. 

If you’re lucky, they’d kill you instantly. Leave your body on the front porch for the others to find. You won’t care anymore. You’ll be dead. 

You hastily wipe the tears from your cheeks, wiggling yourself back until you’re leaning against the headboard. Your shoulder doesn’t hurt quite as much anymore. It still throbs, still aches, still occasionally almost puts you on the floor when you try to reach over your head with it. Your throat is healing too. Soup isn’t quite as horrible as it was a few days ago. Solid food makes you ache, but at least you can get it down without feeling like you’re swallowing glass. 

You still haven’t spoken to them, though. 

You can hardly stand to look at them. 

Fuck them. 

Just the thought of them makes you want to scream. 

Dr. Keller says it's normal, being angry. ‘It’s all part of the process.’ The anger, the fear, the pain, the depression. It’s all normal. It’s all part of the process. It’s all necessary. You won’t get better holding it all in. You won’t get better numbing yourself. You won’t get better if you don’t allow yourself to feel everything. 

You hate it. 

Why should you have to go through all these feelings, all this pain? Why should you be the one suffering because of their decisions? It’s not fair. They should be suffering. They should be in pain. They should be the ones on the brink of insanity because of the fear and the pain and the suffering and their omega constantly screaming at them. 

It makes you want to scream. 

Screaming will only draw them in, force them closer. Screaming will alert them all, make them all come running. You don’t want any of them near. You don’t want to have to see them again. 

Fuck them. 

You let out a huff before wiggling back down the bed until your head hits the pillow. You won’t go back to sleep. You never do. At least you have the pain and exhaustion and tumultuous emotions and your very nature to excuse your constant naps, constant sleeping during the day. They don’t need to know you’re not sleeping at night. They won’t care. They don’t care. None of them do. 

Fuck. Them. 

You want your phone, you want something to keep you occupied. It’s probably lying somewhere on the side of the road shattered beyond repair. That, or it’s back in the barracks. The barracks. Fuck that place. You’ll rip your hair out strand by strand if you have to go back there. It’s not safe, it’s not happy. There’s nothing good about that place anymore. 

It’s just a place of pain. You might as well have been tortured by Phil there. 

You were tortured there. 

It wasn’t a physical torture, but a mental one. The entire experiment was just torture for you. No one thought of you, no one cared about you. 

Dr. Keller cares. 

It’s her job to care. 

Still, you can’t hate her entirely. She’s the only one that understands. She’s the only one that can help. She’s the only one that’s been helping. Not just now, but back then. She cared, she fought for you, she did her best with what she had. Sure, she made mistakes, but so did you. She’s the only one you can forgive. 

She’s the only one you want to forgive. 

Fuck the others. Fuck your pack. Fuck those fucking soldiers who were never going to care about anyone but themselves, who were never going to care about anything but their jobs and their duties and the good of the world. 

You should have been their world. 

They couldn’t put you first. They wouldn’t put you first. They didn’t want to put you first. 

They won’t change. They can’t change. There’s no hope for change. 

You’ll just go back to the way things were before and be forced to pretend everything's okay and that you’re happy and fine and content. Were you ever really content or were you just trying to make the best of the situation? Were you deluding yourself into believing you loved them and cared about them and that they loved you and cared about you to numb the fact you knew deep down that they never would, that they never could. Were you deluding yourself into thinking everything was fine and dandy to hide the constant pain from the knowledge that you would never come first? 

The pain begins to burn in your chest again. It’s hot like acid, rising in your chest to your throat, threatening to choke you. It’s a deep pain, one nestled right in against your soul. Tears leak out of your eyes again as you squeeze them shut, pushing your right hand against your chest in an attempt to get it to pass. 

You thought you were dying the first time. 

You could only be so lucky. 

The bond. 

It’s trying to break, trying to sever itself, trying to free you from the constant pain, but it can’t. 

Maybe because deep down you don’t want it to. Maybe deep down you want to forgive them and move past all of this. Maybe you want things to go back to normal, even if normal means pain and distress and fear. Maybe you want to believe them that they’re finally going to put you first. 

‘Maybe’ is only a doorway to disappointment and pain. 

Fuck yourself. 

Fuck your omega. 

Fuck your pack. 

Hell, fuck Dr. Keller for not fighting harder, for not doing more. 

Fuck Graves and his haunting of your nightmares.

Fuck Kate for choosing you.

Fuck Shepherd for creating the initiative in the first place to try and cover his own ass. 

Fuck them all. 

You tug the blanket higher around yourself, rolling onto your right side. 

Fuck. Them. All. 

You don’t want him here. 

He does it now, usually in the mornings. 

You hate it. 

You like it. It’s nice. He’s the only one making an effort. 

He never says anything, surprisingly enough. It’s silent as he sits there, steaming cup of coffee in hand. Always coffee, never tea. He won’t sink that low. He brings you a cup, but you can never bring yourself to touch it. You feel like a mental patient stuck in a straight jacket. You could free yourself, but that would bring too much awareness, too many questions, too much pain. 

You don’t want to. 

So instead you sit there in silence, staring out at the sea. It’s so far away still, yet it’s right there. You can hear it and smell it and see it. 

The sea. 

They brought you to the sea. 

John remembered. He did it for you. 

The thought has something stirring in your chest, and it’s not pain or anger. 

You hate it. 

Johnny leans back in the chair, his eyes on the horizon like yours. He sits there in that chair every chance he gets, usually in the mornings when Dr. Keller takes time for herself and leaves one of them watching you through the sliding glass door. You do feel guilty for forcing so much on Dr. Keller’s shoulders, yet you need her. 

You’re not ready for the others yet, no matter how loudly your omega screams at you. 

You don’t want them. 

Fuck, you desperately need them. 

Your eyelids flutter frantically as you try to keep the tears at bay. You can’t cry. You can’t let him know how close you are to breaking down. You can’t. 

You can’t reach out. 

You can’t take his hand. 

How desperately you want to. 

You nearly breathe a sigh of relief when the sliding door opens, Dr. Keller’s soft footsteps crossing the wood planks of the porch. 

“Ready to go inside now?” She asks, pressing the back of her hand against your cheek. You don’t say anything, don’t react, frozen in fear of everything coming tumbling out in front of Johnny. “You’re getting cold.” 

Johnny glances your way and you immediately turn to look at Dr. Keller, scared to look him in the face. That desperate hold you have on the gaping wound in your abdomen will open and your guts will come spilling out like some gory scene in a horror movie. 

Disembowelment thanks to your own weakness. 

Dr. Keller holds the crutch out for you as you push yourself to stand. Your legs are strong enough you could probably walk without it, but it’s still nice to have it in case you get tired. 

If you fall, you’ll never get up again. 

It’s the weakness from your liquid diet over the past week and a half. The weakness of being unable to eat solid foods, to properly nourish. You’ve lost weight, your clothes hanging from your body in a way they never did before. You’ve lost the softness that marks you as an omega, but it feels fitting. You don’t feel like an omega anymore. 

You don’t feel like anything anymore. 

You’re fighting your instincts out of pain and suffering and stubbornness. You keep taping your omega’s mouth shut despite how loudly she screams at you. You don’t want your instincts. You don’t want that need. Eventually it has to go away. Eventually it has to recede and your omega has to go back into her cage and sleep. Eventually you can numb yourself to it and force it away forever. 

That will certainly make things easier. 

But will it make things better? 

No. Probably not. 

It’ll make things worse. 

But if it allows you to keep your distance, allows you to avoid them, you’ll risk it. You’d take numbness over anything right now. 

How you miss those long days of depression while they were away. How you took those days for granted. 

Who knew those hours spent worrying about them and their distance and what might happen to them would be for nothing? 

What you wouldn’t give for all of them to disappear right now. 

How badly it would destroy you. 

“She’s at war with herself. That instinctual need is screaming at her, but that emotional pain is keeping her shut away. If anyone is going to get through to her, it will probably be you.” 

“I can’t do that.” 

“Can’t or won’t?” 

Simon clenches his jaw as he stares at Christine. As much as he wants to hate the doctor and her ability to see straight through him, he can’t deny how necessary her presence has been. She’s the only one you tolerate, the only one you’ll let close. Without her you’d probably be rotting in bed, stuck and unable to do anything out of stubbornness. You won’t let them close, yet you need them close. 

You’re going to rip yourself in half, metaphorically and possibly even literally. 

He shakes that mental image from his mind. The horrifying images his mind has conjured up over the last few days have his stomach churning. Even his tea no longer looks appetizing. 

He put milk in it this time. Almost how he likes it. Almost how he wants it. 

“Johnny’s the one actually trying.” Simon says, staring across at her. She doesn’t shy from his gaze, doesn't even flinch. “You should talk to him.” 

“While I agree, reintroducing a beta from the pack is the first step, eventually she’s going to need an alpha.” Christine says. 

“She needs her alpha.” He argues. 

“She doesn’t want her alpha.” Christine counters. “He’s going to be the last she lets close, but she’s going to need some kind of stability.” 

“I can’t give her that.” 

“Can’t or won’t?” 

Simon clenches his hand around his mug, his knuckles going white. She’s infuriating, yet he can’t be mad at her. Not completely. The good she’s doing for you, for the pack, far outweighs his annoyance with the doctor. She’s right. He knows it deep down, but he can’t. He can’t do that, he can’t put you through that. He’s already done enough. He did his part, he faced his fears, he saved your life. That’s enough for him. It’s up to John now. 

John has to do the work to fix it. He broke it, it’s no one else’s job to fix it. 

“Maybe both.” Simon finally says, pushing himself up to stand. “It’s not my job to fix this.” 

He leaves his mug behind as he stalks out of the kitchen, heading for the front door. He can’t stand being in the house any longer, cooped up with the same five people. Four people and a ghost. 

He shakes his head, jogging down the steps into the gravel. He should go for a jog. A long jog. He could jog to town and back. That will clear his head. 

That’s a long jog.

If something happens while he’s away, he won’t get back in time. It’ll be his fault because he took the time to do something selfish. He can picture it, coming back to find five bodies laying in pools of blood, dead because he wasn’t there to help, because he wasn’t there to fight. 

It’s a ridiculous thought. There’s three other highly trained soldiers in the house. If anyone tried anything, they wouldn’t make it past the door. He can see it now, Price’s alpha coming out in a rage because someone dared try to enter and hurt his vulnerable omega. He’d probably win in a fight ten to one if that happened, and he has Kyle and Johnny to back him up. Christine would take you and run the first chance she could. She wouldn’t let anything happen to you. Not again. 

Still, he can’t shake that fear. If he can’t sprint back, then it's too far. If it will leave the pack too vulnerable, he can’t. 

To the beach and back, then. 

She’s like an angel. 

The soft sunlight streaming through the clouds makes her glow. You wouldn’t be surprised if the sun was shining just for her, sending down a beam just to illuminate just how ethereal she is. 

The Garrick beauty is genetic. 

Kyle is beautiful in terms of a man. He shares the same ethereal glow as his sister, but Ashley? You don’t feel worthy of looking upon her. 

“Kyle never mentioned an omega, but then again, he never says much about his job.” She gives another dazzling smile, your heart rate picking up just slightly. “Can’t, I should say. You haven’t been with them long, huh.” 

“About nine months.” You say, your voice still a bit hoarse. It’s not quite healed yet. It might be that way forever. 

“Such a short amount of time to go through so much.” She says, giving you a soft, sympathetic look. You don’t know how much she knows, though it’s still fairly obvious you’ve been through hell. That you’re still going through hell. “Christine told me a bit about what happened. I don’t blame you one bit for being upset at them. I would have left them, but I know. In a perfect world, right?” 

You make a quiet sound. Indeed in a perfect world where omegas have rights and can make their own decisions and could leave and have support in doing so. You’d leave with Dr. Keller or even Ashley, even though you’ve only known her for ten minutes. She has the same magnetic energy as Kyle, so much so you don’t mind the way the scent blockers burn your nose. She probably smells like something warm and soft, something comforting. 

“So, tell me about yourself. What do you like to do?” She says, settling in the chair. It’s cool outside, but she doesn’t seem bothered by it one bit. 

You scramble for something, anything. What is it you like to do? What are your hobbies? You’re drawing a blank, your mind searching through its filing cabinets to find where you shoved all the things you like to do. 

“I like to read.” You finally say, remembering the stack of untouched books on the dresser across from the bed. 

“Oh? What do you like to read?” She asks. 

What do you like to read? What is a genre? What are books? 

“Oh, I read anything, as long as it’s interesting.” Is that the truth? You’re not quite sure. 

“I see, I see. Well, there’s quite the collection on those shelves inside. I’m a reader too. Read through those entire shelves over the years.” She grins at you. “We could do a little book club, if you’d like. Read some books and talk about them over some tea. We could get Christine in on it too. Have a little thing just for us girls.” 

You nod, staring at her in awe. This is the first time someone outside of your little circle has offered to do anything with you, for you. 

You want to do it. 

You want to spend time with someone who isn’t your pack, who isn’t Dr. Keller. 

“Okay.” You say, still staring at her in awe. 

“I could come over on the weekends, or we could do a call if you’re not up to seeing anyone.” She continues, and you’re not sure if she made this plan before she came, or if she’s coming up with it on the spot. Regardless, you're still impressed by her and her dedication to a complete stranger. 

“Would...would that be too much?” You ask, your brain starting to wake up again, the wires connecting once more. 

“Not at all.” She shakes her head. “I live and work in Exeter, so I’m not too terribly far away.” 

You’re not sure where Exeter is off the top of your head. Your mental map isn’t even sure how far away London is...or even where you are on a map of England. Are you even in England right now? 

“What do you do for work?” You ask, realizing you’ve been silent for an awkward amount of time. 

“I’m a finance lawyer.” She says. “Mum used to say ‘you love to argue so much, you should become a lawyer.’” She laughs. “So I did.” 

“You must make a lot of money.” You say. You don’t know how much lawyers make in England relative to the US. 

“I make enough to be comfortable.” She says. Enough to travel back and forth every weekend. “Seriously, though, if you need or want anything, let me know. I’m more than happy to come sit with you and give you a break from those stinky men.” 

You’re not quite sure what happens to your face. It contorts, muscles shaking off the dust and starting to move before you even realize it. Your lips are tilting upwards instead of downwards. Something is happening. Something that feels good, something that you’ve been missing. 

You’re smiling. 

You’re smiling. You haven’t smiled in a long time. Weeks. Not since the cameras. Not since your pack left. You haven’t felt like smiling in so long you’re certain you forgot how to. But yet, here you are, smiling at Ashley. It’s not a genuine smile, one that crinkles your eyes and shows joy, but it’s a smile. It almost hurts your face after so long. 

She’s funny too. 

Stinky men. 

They are that. 

Your smile falls as soon as the sliding glass door opens, your head whipping around to look. Ashley turns to look too, perhaps out of instinct at your sudden movement. 

You’re half expecting it to be one of the guys, maybe Kyle out to ruin the moment, but it’s only Dr. Keller. 

“How are things going?” She asks, stepping up beside you. 

“Good.” Ashley says. “We’re planning a book club.” 

“Oh?” Dr. Keller raises a brow, looking between you. “I think that would be fantastic.” 

“You’re welcome to join in if you’d like,” Ashley says, giving Dr. Keller a smile. 

You stare up at Dr. Keller, watching the way her lips turn up a smile, her eyes shining with...something. Her hands open and close, tugging at her pants almost nervously. Your brows raise as you look back up at her face. She almost looks...flustered. 

Oh. 

Another grin forms on your face as you stare between them, Ashley still smiling and Dr. Keller still looking a bit flustered. 

Oh. 

“You could join us if you want.” You say slowly, still looking up at Dr. Keller. 

She seems to snap out of her daze, her gaze darting down to you. She gives you a soft smile, back to her composed, professional self. “If that’s what you’d like.” 

You nod. Even though you see her constantly every day, you’re not tired of her existence yet. She’s the only one whose existence in the house doesn’t make you want to gouge your eyes out, the only one you want to talk to, to see, to have around. If you had the choice, you’d be here alone with her. 

That’s not possible. You know it’s not. 

“A thing for just us girls.” Ashley says. “On the weekends. No pressure whatsoever.” 

“I think that would be fantastic.” Dr. Keller says. “A nice little distraction.” 

“A nice break from those stinky men.” You say. 

Both Dr. Keller and Ashley erupt in laughter. 

Another smile tugs at your lips. 

You don’t want to be here. You can feel him staring at you from behind. He hasn’t moved since Dr. Keller left, still just standing there like he’s not sure he can approach you or not. You hope he doesn’t. You want him to. 

You don’t say anything, still staring out at the ocean, but you can see him reflected in the glass, obscuring your view of the horizon. Hatred burns inside of you as you have no choice but to stare at him, even when you’re trying not to. He’s like a ghost, always haunting you. He always will be. 

“I didn’t want to try to rush into this.” He finally says, knowing you’re not going to say anything. You won’t greet him, welcome him into your space. It already feels like an intrusion into your safety, him being here. 

Is this becoming a safe space? A nest? No, not that far. It’s becoming sacred to you, though, and having him in it without invitation feels wrong. It makes you uncomfortable. 

You hate it. 

“But I just wanted you to know that we’re all feeling the weight of what we did, I’m feeling the weight of what I decided to do. We all feel guilty for putting you through that, for forcing you to endure things you never should have.” 

He swallows thickly, falling silent for a moment. You almost feel like laughing at his attempt at an apology, another attempt at an apology. Why is he even bothering? He knows you won’t forgive him. He’s probably doing it for himself again, to make himself feel better. 

“I know it’s not an ideal situation, being forced in such a small space together, but we all wanted you to know that you’re the one setting the boundaries. If you don’t want us to be somewhere or do something, then you can tell us, or have Christine tell us. If you don’t want to see us at all, we can make our best attempts at that.” 

“That would be ideal.” You say, breaking the silence you’ve held for days. It’s the first time you’ve spoken to him since the hospital, since his first sad attempt at an apology. 

It shocks him to stillness and silence. 

The words hurt, burning your throat like acid as you stare at his reflection in the glass. You hate it, how pathetic he looks standing there. Where’s the big, tough alpha? Where’s the strong protector? Where’s the person that’s supposed to take care of you and care about you? 

He never existed. 

He left you behind. 

He never cared. 

Anger begins to bubble within you. 

“I’m sorry.” He says, his voice shaking. “I never meant for this to happen-”

“You think your sad attempts at apologies are going to work?” You hiss at him through your teeth. You push yourself to stand, turning to face him. “You left me. You fucking left me there knowing full well what was going to happen!” You’re shouting now. All the quiet movements on the other side of the wall in the main area stop. 

They’re all listening. 

It’s not like you’re giving them much of a choice not to. 

Fuck them.

“I know,” He says, his eyes wide as he stares at you. 

“Do you? Do you know?” Your voice is wavering, your throat starting to ache but you can’t stop. Not now. It’s all coming out and there’s no stopping it. “You. Left. Me. You willingly turned your back on me time and time again even when I was being tortured! You leaving was torture enough and you still chose me second. I’ve always been second. I’ve never mattered enough for you to even question anything!” 

You let out a sob, the sound cracking in your throat. It hurts, but it will always hurt. You’ll always carry this hurt with you, so you want him to hurt too. 

“I asked you once if you would ever leave for me. You said if things got dangerous, if my life were ever at risk because of you, you’d leave in a heartbeat.” The tears are falling, streaming down your face. “Was that a lie?” 

He doesn’t say anything. He just stands there, staring at you. Does he even remember that conversation? 

“Was that a lie?” You shout, making him jump. 

His eyes drop to the floor, his scent souring. Good, you think. Let it hurt. 

“Answer me.” You say, pushing him to give some response to your question. You need to know. You need him to say it. 

“I didn’t intend for it to be.” He says quietly. 

“You didn’t intend for it to be.” You say, bitterness coating your tone. “What the fuck does that mean? You said you wouldn’t let me go even if the initiative failed. Was that a lie too? Was it all a lie to keep me happy and complacent? ‘The job always comes first,’ even when my life is in danger, right? The job always comes first over everything, even me. You lied to me.” You swallow the sob threatening to come up. “I want to hear you say it.” 

He stands there, tears brimming in his eyes. He hasn’t moved hardly a muscle, still frozen like a statue. 

“Say it!” You scream at him, your throat tearing around the words. You’re surprised you’re not tasting blood yet from how raw it feels. 

“I lied.” He says, swallowing thickly. “I lied to you and I couldn’t keep my promise. And I’m sorry-” 

“Don’t apologize.” You cut him off starting to pace as the anger burns hot in you. “Don’t you fucking apologize to me, you don’t deserve to apologize. You don’t deserve the chance at forgiveness. You’re a shitty alpha and you always have been!” 

You let out a sob, wiping at the tears streaming down your face. There’s a tear sliding down his cheek, and it brings you some sort of relief deep down. So he can feel things after all. 

“I don’t know what I expected, though.” You let out a sardonic laugh. “You military men are all the same. It’s always about the job and the image and the ‘greater good’ and making sacrifices, even if that means sacrificing your pack. You’re just like my dad. You never wanted an omega, you never wanted me. You cast me out and let me suffer when I needed you most.” 

The anger burns hot in you again, shooting through your veins until it’s choking you as you stare at him standing there pathetically. He thought he could apologize, he thought his groveling would mean anything to you. Fuck him. Fuck them all. 

“You left me.” You grit out, your hands starting to shake. “You left me! You abandoned me, you let me get hurt! You didn’t care, you never cared about me!” You storm over to him. “Fuck you!” You scream, hitting his chest. “I fucking hate you!” You shove him back, sending him stumbling. “Get out!” You shove him again, pushing him back towards the door. “Get out! I never want to see you again!” 

He stumbles back out of the door and you slam it in his face so hard it shakes on its hinges. You click the lock as you sob in pain, pain both physical and emotional. Your chest aches, a tearing feeling burning through it. 

The bond. 

You don’t care. You don’t give a fuck anymore. You hate him, you hate them all. 

The tears and sobs threaten to choke you but you don’t care. You don’t care anymore. You don’t care about anything anymore except the anger burning hot through you, making your hands shake. Your legs give out and you slide to the floor against the door, sliding until you’re laying down on your back on the hardwood. It’s cold against your skin but you don’t care. You can’t care anymore. 

If you fall, you’ll never get up again. 

John stares at the wood in shock. The slam of the door still echoes in his ears as he stands there, frozen. He knew the chance of a negative reaction was high, but something like that? Something to that magnitude? 

Your words cut into him like a knife, searing his skin and leaving blisters behind. 

Hands push him out of the way. He stumbles to the side, his brain still catching up to his body. 

“Sweetie, I need you to open the door.” 

The words are muffled from the ringing in his ears, the ringing of your screams as you cursed his very being. 

Liar. 

His legs are shaking as he turns, his body moving automatically towards the door. The other three members of his pack are frozen, watching him as he crosses the living room, as he wraps his fingers around the handle of the sliding glass door, as he pushes it open just wide enough to slip through. 

The thud of it closing feels like a seal being stamped. He’s cut himself off, fraying that bond forever. 

Your words still ring in his head as he stands in the middle of the porch numbly. 

Liar. 

He is a liar. He made a lot of promises that he couldn’t keep, promises that he broke because of his decisions. He should have made you feel comfortable enough to reveal those cameras right away. He should have gotten you off base as soon as you revealed them. He should have never trusted Shepherd, or even Kate in that moment. He should have fought harder, he should have sent you away from base as soon as he made that decision to leave. 

So many things he should have done differently. 

You can’t change the past. 

Liar. 

He left you when you needed him most. He proved time and time again that he’d always choose the job over you, no matter what he promised. You’re not a soldier. No matter how much he tried to prepare you, train you, you’d never be able to fight like them. 

Not without taking drastic measures. 

He saw the blood. He saw the bodies. He saw the proof of an omega pushed too far, an omega forced into its primordial state. 

You did it because they left you. 

You did it because you thought the abandoned you. 

Those words ring out the loudest in his mind. Above all the others those words linger, replaying over and over again. 

‘You let me be tortured.’

Christ. 

He runs a hand over his face, the realization shocking him as a cold chill settles under his skin. There’s a weight dropping in his stomach, threatening to sink him straight through the planks of the porch and into the ground below. 

You think they left you. 

He turns on his heel, shocked to find Simon standing behind him. He can’t read his face, hidden behind the mask that hasn’t come off since they arrived at the cottage. He doesn’t need to see his face to read the giant alpha. He’s known Simon long enough to be able to read him just based on his body language. 

He’s angry, frustrated. John half expects him to start yelling too, but that’s never been Simon’s style. He only gets loud when he needs to. Instead he’ll stew and glare and darken the room with his rage. The target of his anger will feel it and know, and that’s almost worse than if he’d express that anger through words. 

Despite the cold chill of Simon’s stare, John’s mind is reeling too much to care. It all makes sense now. Your distance, your turmoil, your own anger. 

“She thinks we left her.” The words come tumbling out before he can stop them. 

“We did.” Simon says, the words short and sharp. 

“No, no,” John shakes his head. “She thinks we left her with Graves.” 

Simon shifts on his feet, the planks of the porch creaking under his weight. 

“Of course Graves would fuck with her head, make her feel like she had been abandoned. It was never about following orders for him. He would have tortured her no matter what.” Anger burns hot in John, at himself, at Graves. Of course you’d assume the worst, of course you’d believe Graves because he was playing on your own doubts. 

They left you so easily at the barracks, of course they’d leave you to be tortured. 

“She’ll never believe you.” Simon says. The squaring of his shoulders has deflated a bit. 

“No, she won’t.” John shifts on his feet, staring straight at Simon. “But I’m not going to be the one to tell her.” 

Her hand presses against your forehead, wiping some of the sweat beading on your skin. Despite your shivers, you’re burning hot. A fever. You worked yourself up too much earlier in your outburst. She had been proud of you for finally releasing some of it and showing some emotion, but she knew the consequences of getting so worked up would be high. Your omega is still unstable, on top of still trying to physically recover. You hurt yourself doing that, even if it was necessary. 

She shushes you as you whine, fingers grasping at the blanket clumsily. She pulls it higher over you, your body shuddering underneath the pile already stacked on top of you. She’d put every blanket she could find over you, and yet you still shiver. Worry floods her again as she stares down at you, your eyes pinched closed. You must be aching, your show of anger taking its toll. 

It was necessary, but at what cost? 

If your temperature continues to spike, the risk of distress heightens. You can’t handle distress in your current state, which would mean your omega would come out, finally be freed again from the unprotected cage it's been pushed back into. If your omega comes out, that will require John to help, which may only drive you further into distress. 

She needs to try and stop this before the situation continues to deteriorate. 

But how? 

How can she move you past this without the help of your pack? She can’t give you the comfort you need. Medicine or any therapeutic methods can help solve the issue at its core. Sure she can try and lower your fever with medicine, but you need your pack. You need that comfort and stability that only they can offer. 

You need someone, and it can’t be her. 

If your omega comes back out, they might never be able to get it back in. It’ll be the end of you. All of your recovery, the fight you’ve put up against your body and your instincts and your mind will have been for nothing. 

You need someone. 

An idea begins to form in her head, her hand resting against your forehead. It’s hot under her hand, your skin burning. You might hate her later for this. It’s risky, but sometimes risks have to be taken in dire situations. Sometimes those risks pan out in the end. What will happen if it fails? The inevitable that’s going to happen if she doesn’t try. It’s a lose-lose situation, but if it works, it could be a win-win. 

She can’t help you, but maybe she has someone who can. 

She tucks the blankets around you, cocooning you in an attempt to keep you warm and still while she steps away. She won’t be gone long.  

She leaves your door cracked open just in case, even though she doubts you’ll be moving much while she’s away. 

Just in case. 

One can never be too careful. 

She heads up the stairs quietly, going slow to avoid startling any of them. She’s intruding on the safe space they’ve made in their solitude. It feels like invading sacred grounds, but it's a necessary invasion. Their omega is in danger. They’ll forgive her. 

The bathroom door is closed at the end of the short hallway, a light on inside. The lights are on in both rooms too, glowing beneath both doors, and she takes a gamble. Based on the heaviness of the footsteps above the kitchen she can guess the room on the right is the one Simon and Johnny are staying in. If she’s wrong, she’ll have some explaining to do before she’s ready, and she knows John will have his thoughts about this. Though, with what happened earlier, perhaps he’ll agree. You won’t see him, but maybe...just maybe... 

She lets out a deep breath before knocking firmly, waiting a breath before she calls out.  

“Johnny, I need your help.”

She just hopes you don’t hate her too much later. 

NEXT ->

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[caramelkoo]

before we shatter — jjk [one]

genre : established relationship, idol!jungkook

word count : 6k

summary : dating an idol is fun, they said. having a family with one is fun, they said. Until you're falling face forward because of your reality. A reality where Jungkook dreams of a future and a reality where your own future is collapsed.

chapter warnings : nsfw, strong language, mature content, fluff, so much angst, smut, talks of infertility, clit sucking, fingering, Jungkook worships her, dirty talk, doggy style, reader is in so much pain i love her sm, fall vibes <33, gift giving as a love language, pussy slapping with his d, big dick energy, jungkook is desperate. that's about it please mention if i missed anything.

read part two here

a/n : based on this ask so thank you anon for coming forward and giving me a chance to write this. i also wanna mention that im no doctor so please forgive me if i didn't do the topic of infertility justice. the second part gives more clarity in their case so please be kind to wait. enjoy and im v v grateful for you. you're so loved.

When you were a child, barely five, an orange butterfly came flying outside your front door. Your mom told you about it since she saw it first causing your entire face to instantly light up like the fourth of july.

An inexplicable joy filled your whole body making your day ten times better, not that you were having a bad one. A five year old can’t have a bad day whatsoever.

After you were done chasing it around, secretly hoping that it would land on your nose just the way they show on television, you had to let it go and head back inside. 

Oddly enough the next morning you saw it again, this time it was not flapping its wings like it had last night, instead it was sitting on the window beside the door. Quiet and still. 

You, ever so curious, had to ask your mom about it. “It might find comfort there,” she said. 

Up until you met your boyfriend you had spent the majority of your time wondering where your comfort place is, what is that one place where you can just be yourself and not pretend to be some stoic woman. A place which lets you cry whenever you want but also replaces those tears with wide smiles and loud giggles. 

Turns out, it’s your boyfriend’s arms. 

It’s true. Jungkook with his kind, sparkly bambi eyes and bunny smile stole your damn heart a few years ago and is not willing to give it back. Although you can’t complain, in a world where people can’t seem to find the one for themselves, the angels up there granted you a guy every inch a gentleman. Safe to say it’s not one like one of those titular relationships you've come across. 

He’s your solace, a roof where you can safely just about exist. 

He heals you.

Dating an Idol comes with several perks, the biggest one of those being dealing with the huge amount of selective criticism. You feel hurt, of course, but when you’re with Jungkook, they are nothing but words behind a pixel. A pain that only lasts momentarily. 

This pain though, is not as mundane. This one is making your stomach twist in apprehension. You’ve lost the count of how many deep breaths you’ve taken.

“I’m afraid this is a case of infertility miss _____” the doctor says, earning your attention.

You’re not able to form a word, however that does nothing to stop your subconscious mind from screaming, I knew it.

Being stupid enough to think you were well prepared to hear her say this, you mustered up the courage to enter the four walled white space which, at that time, didn’t feel as narrow as it does now. It’s almost as if it’s closing up on you.

Only after you sat before the woman in white coat and bad news, did you realize how gut wrenching this actually feels.

You face her with a weak smile, one that doesn’t actually reach your eyes, “Are- are you sure you’re not mistaken?” 

Dr. Ana leans forward, resting her forearms on the table. The move itself tells you more than you need to. “Miss _____, I know it’ll be hard for you to come to terms with this but I suggest you try. I would also like to tell you, and I hope I’m not overstepping, but you can always go with adoption. The options are endless.” 

Your throat feels awfully dry and you gulp. “Thank you uh, can I ask you for a favor?” 

“Anything”

“If you happen to cross paths with Jungkook, please don’t mention anything about this to him.” 

Dr. Ana flashes you a kind smile, “Of course not ____. It’s your personal matter. I wouldn’t dare.” 

“Thanks a lot.” 

With one last nod you excuse yourself from her office. Your phone buzzes inside your pocket and you take it out, seeing Jungkook’s number stare up at you. 

“Hey” 

“Hey, my love. Are you busy?” His voice nearly brings tears to your eyes. It also brings up a question. Will he act the same towards you after you tell him where you are and what you just heard? Will his voice be filled with the same amount of excitement and affection for you? 

“No, honey. I’m actually at my sister’s place. She was craving some alone time with her husband and asked me to babysit Coco”

You can visualise him awing already. Jungkook has grown attached to your sister’s daughter a little too much. His bond with Coco is just so bright it makes you wonder if they happened to be an actual father and daughter duo in the past life. They’re both full of beans and it’s a delight to see them both together. 

He chimes, “Ah my little Coco bean. Is she near? Let me hear my angel.” 

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you try to come up with any transitory excuse that doesn’t make you run for the hills. “She’s sleeping right now. Made me work for it but I managed to settle her down” 

Jungkook moans from the other side of the line and you mentally curse yourself. Not only are you lying through your teeth but also using your innocent niece as a pawn. From the day you began dating Jungkook, you’ve not looked at any other man. For the first time now, you have this nagging feeling as though you’re cheating on him. 

“Well, alright next time then. When are you coming back home?” 

“As soon as they do. Do you miss me already?” I tease.

“Pfft me and miss you? Impossible” 

You gasp, the audacity of this boy. “How rude!!”

Your goofy boyfriend dares to chuckle, “I carry you with me everywhere I go, love. It’s hard to miss someone who’s this close to you every time of the day.” 

It doesn’t take you long to grasp what he is referring to. The heart shaped bracelet rests proudly on his wrists and the man had refused to take it off ever since you gifted it to him. A sense of longing already creeps up in your heart, twisting it until you run out of breath. 

Your chest expands as you fill it with much needed air, “Listen, honey I’ll give you a call soon yeah? I think Coco has woken up and I must go check if she needs something,” you fake a chuckle, “You know how she gets when she’s irritated” 

“Oh yes of course. Promise to give me a call soon?” 

This time the smile on your face is genuine, “I promise” 

“Give Coco a kiss for me. I love you.” 

“I love you.” 

There’s a heavy weight on your chest as soon as you hang up the call. Maybe it has always been there. So, for a couple of minutes you just stand there in the hallway of the hospital taking in the sterile smell and worrisome patients, praying that the highest power up there gives you one last chance so you could try and fix what’s been ruined.

The commotion around you does nothing to overtake the voices in your head and sadness fires through you as you feel like you’re burning your boats. Despite all of that, you pray for one last time, this time for again being strong enough to let go. 

Let go of your happiness.

Let go of your salvation.

Let go of your comfort.

Let go of Jungkook.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

You click the door shut behind you, hanging the coat on the rack. You’re not even done turning around when a muscular arm wraps around your abdomen and you’re pulled back against a taut chest. 

“I missed you” his voice is muffled against your jumper.

You run your palms over Jungkook’s forearm, stopping to interlace your fingers with his.The way his hands fit with yours is adorable to you as if they were made to do so. The bracelet on his wrist is cool against your skin and you smile. “You know what’s funny? This guy I talked to earlier said it’s impossible for him to miss me” 

He rests his chin on top of your shoulders, cheeks warm against yours. He has grown out a stubble which makes him look manlier for some reason and you can’t stop caressing it with your fingers whenever you cup his face.

“You’re talking to other guys?” If you hadn’t known Jungkook better than himself, you would have missed the pout of his lips when he said that. 

You turn your face and place a sloppy kiss on his cheekbones, “Only my favourite guy in the whole world.” 

He breaks out in a toothy grin and holds your gaze. “You’re my favourite girl too but I think you already know that.” 

You nod but the pang of guilt is still lingering in your heart. “Still love hearing it.” 

Jungkook releases you from his embrace and walks back, rounding the kitchen counter until he’s holding up a large bowl. “Ready for our fall ritual?” 

Jungkook and you have been using your mum’s recipe to bake chocolate chip cookies every fall and while you enjoy baking with him, the thing that you take the most pleasure from is his face when he munches on the first cookie.

It’s one of your favorite sights ever. It takes quite a bit of effort to bake them but hell if you wouldn’t do it all over again just to see him close his eyes and moan like it is the best thing since sliced bread. 

You join him behind the counter and look around. From the way the batter has already been prepared you suppose he’s been at it for a while. There are some chocochips in a small bowl across from you with some cranberries next to them because he knows you like them in your cookies. 

“You don’t ever forget about the cranberries, do you?” 

“Nope. They’re your favourite plus if you eat well, I can eat you well– ouch,” he jumps, “What was that for?” 

You offer him a glare which does nothing to stop the smile threatening to break out of your lips, “Behave” 

His face inches closer to yours, “Now honey don’t be acting like I didn’t give you the best orgasm this morning” 

Oh well, how can you forget about that? Ninety nine percent of the time you love waking up in his arms while he’s the big spoon but there’s that one percent where he wakes you up with his head between your legs, sometimes with his face under your shirt sucking on your nipples. Indissoluble passion within him. His ability to satisfy you with his mouth alone needs to be studied because god if you don’t crave more and more. 

You blink, once twice thrice, “You’re incorrigible” 

He lets out a cackle at your flustered face as you wonder when you will stop blushing like a fool around him. It’s been years and he still makes you feel like you’re wrapped up in a ball of jitters. Jungkook leans back and straightens up. He plucks the apron from the counter before coming up behind you. “Hold your hair up for me” He demands. 

You grab a fistful of your hair and lift them up as he settles it on your neck before tying the knot at your back. With one last kiss on the back of your neck he joins you. 

“How long has it been since you began making this?” 

“Not long ago. Thought I’d wait for you to come back home and then continue”

You watch him add the chocochips into the dough. His tattoos are barely visible behind the cozy sweater he’s wearing. At the risk of sounding like a hypocrite, Jungkook with his perfect physique and gorgeous face looks good in everything, more so naked, but nothing triggers your cuteness aggression more than him wearing a fluffy knitted sweater, believe it or not. One which you knitted at that.

He pulls your attention away pausing your little drooling session, “How’s Coco bean doing?” 

A sudden urge of getting close to him creeps up and you sneak between the counter and him, hugging him as you nuzzle your face in his chest. He smells like cinnamon. He places a gentle kiss on the crown of your head before resting his chin there. 

“You smell so good” 

“Thanks and she’s as chaotic as ever. Nailea bought the cutest pair of pyjamas for her,” you look up at him,  “She looked like a loaf of bread when they made her wear it.” 

“No way. Should we buy her another one of those?” he pulls back, barely able to hide the excitement on his face.

“You’re gonna spoil her” 

“Damn right I will and if you call this spoiling, wait till I get one of those made by me.” 

There it is. 

If Jungkook wasn’t so fond of children, would it have been easier for you to cope? You do realize that you’re a stone’s throw away from losing him for once and for all. In the old days you heard somewhere that it takes a strong man to save to save himself and a great man to save another.

You want to be that brave person who saves him from lifelong loathing and regret towards you.

This turning point in your life gives you two options, one where you can hang by a thread and bite your tongue while you continue your life with him, another where you set him free. The latter one wins and you, however, lose. 

“Hey you went silent there. You okay?” He cups your cheek with one hand, his thumb grazing your cheekbones so gently you try not to cry. 

You nod and flash him a smile. Or at least you try to smile and detach yourself from him. “Perfect. Let’s get those cookies baking shall we?” 

Jungkook keeps looking at you with an expression which tells you he’s trying to search for something, but you try not to give anything away. Yet.

He gives you a look, his eyes sparkling under the low light in the room,

“Wait here for a second i’ll be right back” 

“Where are you goi-”

“Just a second. Don’t move” His voice trails off as he goes further into the bedroom. A minute later when he comes back, there’s nothing different about him except the sneaky smile on his face. He walks towards you and grabs you by the waist as he sits you on the counter. Your hands instantly clutch his shoulders for support. 

“What is happening, baby?” You mumble, clearly in a fog. 

He says nothing as he gets down on his knees. Taking a hold of your right leg, he places it on his thigh. You swallow.

He looks up, clashing his eyes with yours, “You ask too many questions, do you know that?” 

Seconds later he’s taking something out of his jogger pocket and a cool sensation brushes your skin. You peek down, curiosity finally killing the cat as you see a silver anklet adorned by a pink stone in the middle of it embraced around your ankles. 

His name is a whisper on your lips, “Jungkook”  

He gets up, facing you as he stands. But not before pecking the anklet as well as your skin. His face which earlier was eerie, now entirely soft. 

“Mom sent this for you.” 

You don’t hold back tears this time, letting them run free. You glance at the jewellery again as it shines under the light of the kitchen lamp. The pink stone glares at you as if it knows you’re not worthy of such a valuable item. 

“It’s beautiful”

He gently wipes the tears away,

“It’s just the beginning, love. I’m not gonna stop until I see a band wrapped around your finger. I feel too lonely being the only one there.” 

You playfully smack him on the chest, a giggle slipping free. With a tired shake of your head you admit, “This is overwhelming” 

“What is?” he asks,

“All of this,” you keep your gaze on him, sniffing as you continue,“Your little acts of service, your love, your presence and now this gift. I feel like I’m taking too much not giving enough” 

Your throat feels too tight, as if someone is just cutting off your air supply when you should be feeling free in his arms. 

Jungkook’s eyebrows tense as he reaches for you. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear he tries to reassure you, “Don’t say that. I hate when you question your worth,” he pecks the back of your hands, “These hands feed me, hold me when I need them to, give me warmth, gentle touches”,

His lips find both of your eyes next as you close them, feeling his soft lips on them,

“These eyes tear up with happiness every time you listen to me in the studio”,

Your ears follow next, “These ears tolerate my snoring”,

Then your lips, “And this mouth, my favourite, whispers ‘i love you’ to me every morning, leaves kisses on my skin, screams my name and most importantly, forms the loveliest smile when I make you happy.” His eyes are oh so gentle as he says this. 

You’re about to respond when his phone buzzes on the counter next to you. Your heart stops. Fuck is it Dr. Ana?

To your surprise, it’s Jimin’s number on the screen.

“Pick it up, honey. It might be important.” 

His thumb presses on the red button as he declines the call, “I’ll talk to him later. My girlfriend comes first.” 

Neither of you say a word as the room gets filled with a comfortable silence. The cookies are long forgotten, your eyes doing all the talking. Even if you try your hardest you’re not sure you can say anything which is remotely justifiable of what he just said to you.

Jungkook is so much more than meets the eye, he’s vulnerable, he’s empathetic, he’s loving. His eyes shine the brightest when he’s happy about something and you’re so full of contempt about the fact that eventually you will be the one to snatch away that shine. This hornet’s nest is going to ruin me, ruin him. 

“I wanna kiss you so bad” He whispers, leaning closer but you stop him with your palms on his chest.

“Wait, I-I want to talk about something” 

His voice is downright pleading when he says, “Later baby. I’m fucking gonna die if I don’t take that mouth right now. Please?” his breath touches your bare lips. 

Feeling a flutter in your chest you nod and he leans towards you, hand cupping your lower jaw as he touches his lips to yours. Softly at first, then his pace quickens. Your hands grab his sweater as you pull him even closer, deepening the kiss. His moan echoes followed by your own as you both lose yourselves in each other. You let go of every menacing thought and just focus on the taste of his lips. 

He pulls back slightly, taking a deep breath as he fills his chest with air. Those beautiful lips are pink and swollen from the heated kiss you just shared with him. Getting rid of the sweater, he tosses it aside as his eyes sparkle with amusement.

Without wasting any time he begins nibbling at your neck, slightly biting onto it as your hands run over his back. He’s so beautiful it takes your breath away. Not to toot your own horn but you have the most gorgeous boyfriend and you’re not ashamed to show him off. 

His lips ghost over your nipples from over your high neck top and you groan.

“Jungkook, please” 

He pulls back with a smug look on his face, “Please what ____?” 

“Please fuck me. I need your cock so bad.” 

“Yeah? Is that what my girl wants?” 

At this point your body is thrumming with anticipation and desire as you watch him move his hands closer to the waistband of your pants. His hands pause when they meet the lace material, his pupils dilate. 

He smiles, “It’s the one I gifted you. Were you hoping for this huh?” 

Your lips stretch into a smile. You hadn’t particularly hoped for this, no, because your relationship with him is not just based on physical pleasures. You guys have sex of course, but it’s not the prominent part of the bond you share. It’s more than that. The lace lingerie set was gifted to you by Jungkook on a random day. It was one of those quote unquote just because gifts. 

“What do you think?” you ask, giving him a quick kiss. 

He grabs you by the back of your neck and holds you there for a moment before leaning back and looking straight into your eyes. “I think you should lose it or else I’ll ruin it” 

You gasp, swatting him on the bicep. “Don’t you dare. It’s my favourite pair”  

Without preamble he picks you off the counter making you wrap your legs around his waist. You both are so close it takes your breath away. Chest to chest, groin to groin, face to face with lips inches away from each other’s as you share a breath. 

He walks into your shared bedroom as you clash your lips against his, pulling his lower one between yours, earning a groan out of him. You both are downright feral, letting your hands run over every area of each other’s body. Jungkook’s hands grabbing your ass, yours pulling on his hair lightly before trailing down his chest, pausing on his pecs. 

When you reach your bedroom, he sits himself down with you on top of his lap. Your hips move forward and you hiss as your still jean clad pussy brushes his cock. He’s so hard you wonder if he’s close to coming already. 

Rough hands scrape over your back, hips, down your thigh before they finally settle on either side of your waist, gipping them tightly but also with a hint of gentleness. One thing you admire about your man is that he doesn’t treat you like a fragile woman, he knows you’re strong and you’ll not break if he’s rough with you. 

Jungkook pulls back from your lips.“Fuck honey, you’re such a goddess. Look at this body. I still can’t believe I get to call you mine” 

You shake your head, totally under his spell. “I’m the lucky one here, baby. You have no idea how lucky I am.” 

His hand brushes over your ass before he dips it inside your pants, reaching your already soaked pussy as he pushes a finger inside you. This earns a whimper from you as you tip your head back. 

“That’s where you’re wrong, ____. Want me to show you how lucky I am?” He takes the finger out before pumping it back again. You moan as his other hand gips the nape of your neck and he brings his mouth to your neck, biting on it. 

“Oh my god” you cry, seeing him suck the finger clean and face forming an expression filled with the deepest level of satisfaction as he closes his eyes. 

Setting his eyes back on you, he sighs, “This isn’t my first time tasting you, honey. But it gets better every fucking time and I find myself craving you an unhealthy amount, you know that? Do you know how crazy I am for you? Could eat you out everyday and wouldn’t need anything else to feel full.” His words send a shiver down your spine. “You’re my favorite meal.” 

He pushes three fingers back inside with a slight force and you let out a scream, arching your back. He takes one nipple into his mouth and gives it a long suck, letting it go with a loud pop. 

“Oh yes, just like that. Suck it again, baby” You beg and he does exactly that as he takes the other sensitive bud into his mouth. 

You’re not sure if you have been this vocal about your needs with anyone before him. Not that you dated a lot, for a person who’s a hopeless romantic to the core you’ve always found yourself waiting for the right one. Additionally, you believed your body to be as sacred as a temple. Surely there had to be a guy somewhere who would treat it as such.

Then, enters Jungkook who not only was out of your league metaphorically but literally. He lived miles away from your place so there was not a chance you could have let anything take place between the both of you. But as they always say, the heart wants what it wants. To put it briefly, there was chemistry, a connection you didn’t want to lose.

Strong fingers pump into you. In and out, in and out. “You’re so wet. What do you say? Should I lick you clean?” 

“Yes, ah oh my goodness that’s sooo good” you toss your head back, slowly grinding against his hands. 

He wraps an arm around your waist, lifts you off his lap and tosses you back on the bed. Keeping his eyes still locked with yours he gets rid of his jogger, letting his cock spring free.

It bobs and you lick your lips, already wanting to take it into your mouth but you know for a fact that he wouldn’t let you do that, not because he doesn’t want you to but because he wants to give you the highest amount of pleasure first. As he always does. 

Jungkook lets out a shaky sigh as gives his cock a pull, his eyes running over your whole body. Up and down then back at your face again. You’re still not fully bare in front of him while he’s standing there, all in his glory. 

“Lose the pants” he commands. 

You immediately slide out of them and toss them on the floor somewhere. He grabs you by the hips, jerking you to the edge of the bed as he sinks down on his knees. Spreading your legs wider he releases a breath. Warmth touches your wet pussy and you prop yourself up by the elbows to look at him. 

You need to look at him if you want to stay sane, have to feel him with you here. Shivers run through you even by the thought of not being able to feel him and this ever again. This might as well be your last day on this god awful planet from the way the ache in your chest keeps on increasing. It makes a home there, not letting you entirely forget about the eventualities. 

“God you’re dripping, honey” 

“For you” you admit.

Hot and wet kisses are left to the inside of your thigh and your hands find the back of his head as you grip it lightly. 

His head lifts up, his eyes finding yours, “Don’t hold back,____. Grip it as tightly as you want to. I don’t want any hesitations because when I fuck you, I’m not going to be holding back. You hear me?” 

A desperate moan leaves you, and he rewards you by kissing your pussy. Keeping his eyes on you, he doesn’t give you a chance to whine out your needs before his tongue is licking a single line up your clit.

He moans and gently tugs on your clit. “Such a perfect cunt” 

You push his head against your pussy and rock forward, chasing your orgasm. 

“Feels so good, feels so perfect, baby” you murmur.

Just when you’re starting to feel the climax incoming, when Jungkook suddenly grabs you by the waist and flips you, so he’s lying down and you’re on top. Then, he grabs you by the back of your neck, pulling you for a heated kiss. 

He pulls back, “Sit on my face, my queen” 

Your eyes widen and you hesitate, but you don’t want to. You wanna let go, knowing you’re lucky enough to get something like this in this lifetime, so you give in. He hoists you up by the hips, positions you over his face and pulls you down. His warm breath feels like a soft whisper against your pussy. 

You cry out in pleasure as soon as his tongue dives deep inside you, squeezing your tits in your hands. Grinding against his face, you close your eyes and just… feel. Feel the heat, feel the emotions, feel the intimacy, feel the ache in your chest.

A thought crosses your head and you wonder if you’re doing something wrong, something selfish. Touching him like this and getting consumed by him feels like you’re doing nothing but ruining him. 

He sucks on your clit with sheer eagerness and desire, pulling you further down so you’re putting your weight on his face. Concern perks up and you look down, trying not to crush him but it seems like he couldn’t care less. 

“Let go, honey. Just focus on my mouth.” 

Let go. God, how bad you hate those words. They feel like acid in your ears. 

“Keep going, Jungkook. Don’t you dare stop” you cry out. 

Soon enough you’re aching your back, cunt pulsing against his lips as you come. He swallows every single drop as if he’d die if he doesn’t and leaves you in awe. You slump, letting your body relax.

Much to your amusement, he doesn’t give you enough time to relax before he’s turning you over until you’re on your knees. Hot passionate kisses are placed on your sweaty back, pulling a gasp from you. 

“What a fucking sight. I wish you could see how stunning you look right now and it’s all because of me, isn’t it? This glistening back, this wet cunt,” he strokes a finger down your pussy, “It’s all because of me and you dare to call yourself lucky?” 

You catch a sight of him stroking himself over your shoulders and your breath quickens. 

His abs are glistening with sweat and his chin still has your cum on it. 

He smirks, “Like what you see, honey” 

“You’re beautiful” 

His eyes soften, letting his hands drop from his angry and already leaking with precum cock, he grabs either side of your hips and lines himself against your needy pussy. You let your head drop on the mattress and clench your fist, preparing yourself for him. He gives your cunt a slight slap with his cock before filling you in, groaning as he goes deeper.

You moan, “Fuck baby. That’s so deep.” 

“You’re so warm, honey. You feel like home” he thrusts again. 

His hands grip yours, and he covers your body with his own, still thrusting inside with rough movements. His chest feels warm and safe against your back as it fills you with a deep sense of safety, protection and love.

You match every thrust of his with your own, moving your hips backwards. Your tits are getting equal attention from him as he pinches the two sensitive buds between his fingers. 

You both chase your high with you screaming out his name and him whispering yours like a prayer. He gives in one last thrust before he’s coming inside you, his teeth biting on your shoulder. You’re following him soon as you grip the bed sheet tighter in your fist, moaning as you come. 

Before you collapse, he pulls you upright and lets his cock slide out of you. His fingers push his cum inside your throbbing cunt, making your stomach twist in pain.

You murmur. “I love you” 

His lips stretch into one of those lazy smiles you love so much. “I love you too, my precious girl. Now, do you wanna sleep or go make those cookies?” a sloppy kiss is pressed on your forehead. 

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you pull him on top of you, “Should we save those for later? I really wanna cuddle” 

He presses a soft kiss on the tip of your button nose, “Sure. Let me clean you up first. You don’t have to move an inch, just relax.” 

Minutes later he’s coming back with a bottle of water and a bowl of marshmallows. You bite back a chuckle when you look at his face. There’s such a deep crease between his eyebrows you’d think he’s trying to win a game of uno or something. 

But it’s short lived when he places the items on the nightstand and gazes at you, his eyes having the same funny look they had earlier in the kitchen.You try to summon your most unbothered and good natured grin but it doesn’t do shit to stop the electricity from running through your blood. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask, biting your lip.

An uncertain laugh slips out of him, “I don’t know. I’m- God, I really don’t know but I have this weird feeling that something is not right.” He begins cleaning you up but you can’t shake the feeling of nervousness and anxiety away. 

You know for a fact that he’s right. Something is not right, in fact nothing is right. 

He peeks at you from between your legs, “Hey, what is it that you wanted to talk about?” 

The air whooshes out of your lungs. Should you come clean? Is it the right time? 

You huff a tight laugh. “It’s nothing actually. Can we talk about it later?” 

When he’s done cleaning you up he places a small kiss on both your knees and stands up. Offering you a nod, he says, “Whenever you feel like it. I’m not going anywhere” 

Yet. He’s not going anywhere yet. 

You grin, “I wouldn’t let you” 

He lets a laugh slip out as he walks inside the bathroom. Then, he comes back, settles himself beside you and brings you closer by wrapping his arm around your waist. His feet find yours as he touches the anklet with them. 

“Let’s sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up” he promises. 

Morning comes quickly as the sun casts its glow on your sleepy yet excited eyes. Holding out a hand, you try searching for your boyfriend next to you, but a slight sting arises in your heart when he’s not there. You open your eyes, adjusting to the sunlight. 

Although, you hoped you did not wake up, you hoped death consumed you in your sleep because the person across from you is a total stranger. A stranger whose eyes are misty and mouth is pulled down in deep frown, a sunflower bouquet in one hand and the other one holding a blue file so tightly you can see his knuckles turning white.

Jungkook holds out the file to you, “How long were you planning to hide this from me,____?” 

For the first time in your life, you hate your name. You hate how bitter it sounds coming from his mouth like this.It has always been “____, you’re my everything,” “I love you,____”, “_____, you mean the world to me”.

Acid bubbles in your stomach at his words, and you can’t help but sob. You wonder if the butterfly was preparing you for this day. If she could talk, what would she have said to you? 

The words that leave him next might as well be daggers in your chest, "Tell me, honey. Is it the important thing you wanted to talk about but held back just to get a good fuck out of me?"

@fluttershy-vanilla @theyysam37 love you pookies. enjoy <3

[girlygguk]

CRAZY | JJK (Part 2)

summary you know it sounds twisted. that most people would see hyungwon as the perfect boyfriend. healthy, balanced, all the things that relationships should be. that’s when you realized... you weren't like most people. but that's okay. because neither is jungkook.

pairing ceo!jk x employee!(f)reader

rating 18+ minors dni; smut, fluff, angst

genre coworkers to lovers au, established relationship

word count 13.2k

chapter content [read part one for full character & story warnings pls.] jk & oc first encounter, jungkook lowkey goes a bit yandere in one two of the scenes 😭, jk punches another guy, love at first fuck lets b real, mention of oc's superior abusing their power (not jk), hyungwon appearance 🙄, heejin appearance 🙄, hobi appearance 🎉, bff jiminie appearance 🎉, time skips, jealous mcs, heated argument, jk lies but like... for the greater good? god idk

warnings dom jk, sub oc, pre established traffic light sw system and degradation consent, doggy, dirty talk, protected p in v sex, praise kink, um slight exhibition kink, rough sex, squirting...(on their first fucking encounter yeeeppp help me god)

a/n this is only 75% edited bc i honestly wasn't going to post it for a whilee as i'm working on some other things atm but i felt bad just watching her sit in my drafts all sad n semi finished 😢 alsoo if a bit of the smut dialogue looks a lil familiar... cough salsa.. its bc i was gonna completelyy change up the sexy scene 🥺 and so i used the smut as inspo for the salsa drabble so it didnt go to waste... bye im such a clown. okay thank u, enjoy, and pls lemme know what u think <3 mwah

crazy pt 1 | masterlist | join my taglist | banner credit

801 DAYS AGO

Your twelve-month contract as a temp Administrative Assistant at Jeon Corp was creeping to an end, and it was safe to say that you were fucking pissed.

You had put everything into this place—countless overtime shifts, moved into an overpriced house in the city near the firm so you were never late. You eat, sleep and breathe this fucking company. And what did you get for it? An almost certain rejection, apparently.

You were more than sure they'd offer you a permanent position. Your stats spoke for themselves. They were flawless. You’d single-handedly cleaned up the absolute fucking disaster left behind by the previous administrative assistant who bailed after Jeon Jun-seo’s passing—and that was not light work.

And by "bailed," you meant that they were part of the bloodbath that ensued when Jungkook took over and wiped out almost half the staff for incompetence.

The staff who remained still grumbled about it—loyalists, maybe, or just people too comfortable with the way things used to be. They hated him for it. He was ruthless, sure, but effective. Jeon Corp wasn't just successful; it was dominating. They went from merely hitting targets to blowing right past them. And that shift started with him.

Jungkook was good. Really fucking good.

He was young, driven, passionate, and not to mention—a sight for sore eyes. Even as someone who didn't like to openly praise men, you couldn't help but be impressed.

Still, you knew your fate wasn't in his hands directly. He wasn't going to be the one deciding whether your temp position would become permanent. He was the CEO—too high up to care about such things. And besides, you'd never even spoken to the guy. You spent most of your time on the twelfth floor, and he was always buried in work on the nineteenth.

Except for that one time.

Maybe three months ago? You had shared an elevator with him when you both arrived at work around the same time. For eleven floors, you stood silently beside him. Well, you were silent. He was on the phone, speaking in that low, gravelly tone that had a way of crawling under your skin. Being so close, you could hear the slight slip of a Busan accent when he spoke. He wasn't rude, just... intense.

Even while curses slipped from his lips to whoever was on the other end of the line, you couldn’t help but wonder if that was just his usual tone—whether he was speaking to a business partner, an enemy, a lover. Either way, you didn't think it was negative. It was just him.

You knew bits and pieces about the guy from what Jimin had shared—him being Jungkook’s assistant and all—but nothing too personal. Not that you needed to know. Though, admittedly, he had piqued your interest.

A month prior to that elevator ride, you’d caught a glimpse of something that had you squirming in your seat. From your office, you had glanced over to see him leading a meeting on your floor. His suit jacket had been tossed over the back of his chair, revealing the dirtiest, prettiest fucking sleeve you’d ever laid eyes on. His big, tattooed bicep flexed with each movement as he pointed at the projector screen.

The sight had you groaning, pushing your unfinished lunch aside and retreating to the bathroom.

You’d tried calling your boyfriend, hoping to pull him into some filthy phone sex, but he was too nervous to go through with it. In the end, you hung up frustrated, finishing yourself off in the stall, biting your lip to keep from moaning too loudly.

The elevator ride felt quicker than usual. You kept your eyes fixed on the LED screen, watching the numbers tick up, though you were more focused on the way his cologne filled the space, light but somehow intoxicating. By the time the doors slid open on your floor, his call had ended. You adjusted your bag, turning to him with a polite bow.

"Have a good day, seonsaengnim," you'd said, your voice soft as you smiled.

He didn’t say anything back, just looked at you for a second, his dark eyes sweeping over your face. His Adam’s apple bobbed slightly as he gave you a subtle nod, and you walked off, feeling his gaze linger as you left.

And that was it.

You didn't see him again. Not in the lobby, not passing by in meetings, not even when your car and his were the last ones left in the parking lot after late shifts. It wasn't unusual; he was literally the CEO, always busy, always somewhere else. He didn't have time to notice you.

But you couldn’t help but think about it more than you’d like to admit.

If you'd known that you'd never cross paths with him again, never ride the same elevator, never exchange more than those few words before your temp contract ended—would you have done something different? Said something more?

Maybe you would've clicked a higher floor.

But here you were. No offer. No permanence. Just three job offers from other firms sitting in your inbox, waiting for your reply. Of course, you had a backup plan—you weren't that naive. But something about it stung anyway. You'd take one of those offers at the end of the week, move on, and maybe one day, you'd forget about Jeon Corp entirely.

Sigh.

You were really going to miss Jiminie, though.

“So... how's your shift going?”

You rolled your eyes, a soft laugh escaping as you twisted the cap off your water bottle, taking a sip before tearing the lid off your salad. Your phone sat on your desk, Hyungwon's voice crackling through the speaker.

"It's going good, Hyungwon," you replied, voice tinged with sarcasm. "Same as every day."

A sad chuckle echoed through the receiver. "Oh, yeah? Well, we just got new printers at the firm, you know, the Lexmark MX8s? What about y—"

The forkful of salad that was halfway to your mouth dropped back into the bowl. "Hyungwon," you interrupted, incredulity dripping from your tone. "Did you really call me to talk about printers?"

"Well, I—no, I just—"

You sighed, reaching for your water again and setting your untouched lunch down. "Hyungwon, I hope you're okay, I really do. And I'm happy for you and your fancy printers," yours were two seasons ahead, "but this isn't helping. You're not going to feel better if—"

"I just miss you, Y/N," his voice cracked, and instantly, your appetite evaporated. You let out another deep sigh, rubbing your temples, as Hyungwon's next words came out shaky. "And I just want to know what I did wrong. We were doing so well. W-what did I do?"

"Hyungwon…" You picked up the phone, taking it off speaker as you leaned back in your chair, eyes focused on the ceiling. "You didn't do anything. You're a great guy, okay?"

"Yeah," he scoffed, his voice bitter and teary. "Girls don't break up with 'great guys' after an amazing year together out of the blue, Y/N."

Was it out of the blue? Had it been amazing?

"We've been over this," you sighed, adjusting the phone in your hand. "A hundred times in the last month. It's not about what you did. We just—"

"Weren't right for each other," he finished, his voice robotic, like he was reciting a script he'd memorized against his will. A sniffle followed as you heard him reach for tissues. "Just… wanted you to know I miss you. And… could I come by next week? Pick up my clothes?"

You took a long drink from your water bottle, feeling a headache forming. "I’ll leave it with reception. You can pick it up from the office—"

"No," he cut in, his voice tight with desperation. "Please, from your place. I just… I need to see you one more time."

You exhaled deeply, eyes unfocused as you stared out your floor-to-ceiling window. It had been a month since you ended things with Park Hyungwon—a month since you stuffed his clothes into a box and offered to drop them off. A month of excuses, a month of him putting it off, dragging out these unbearable phone calls, asking to see you in person, to talk.

You knew why he wanted to make the exchange in person. You weren't stupid. But lately, something about his calls had been giving you a bad feeling—a taste in your mouth that lingered long after you hung up. Hyungwon wasn't dangerous. He wouldn't hurt a fly. But he was... off. These calls always followed a pattern.

First, 1:15pm, right when you started your break, your phone would buzz. You'd glance down, see an incoming call from P.H, and immediately regret ever sharing your lunch schedule with him.

Then, he'd be kind. Sweet. Boring. Asking about your shift, your day, until something—something trivial—would break his composure. He'd start to crack, voice shaking, or worse, he'd burst into tears over something like… printers.

By the end of the call, there was always that weird shift. Not angry, not sad… something in between. A mix of emotions that left you unsettled, and you couldn't quite put your finger on why. You could feel the resentment beneath it all, though—like he definitely blamed you for the breakup, no matter how many times he asked what he could've done to keep you.

That was fine. You were used to people resenting you. You were top of your major, gorgeous, and a bit of a bitch. But hearing that tone in Hyungwon's voice? A human puppy dog you'd spent a year of your life with? It made your skin crawl in a way you couldn't shake.

And now, here he was, asking to see you again. For what? Closure? An emotional showdown? You didn't care. You just knew you had to end this, fast. Another call filled with sniffles and pleas, eating away at what little break time you had? You'd throw yourself out that fucking floor-to-ceiling window before you let that happen again.

"Fine," you sighed, glancing at your watch as you switched the phone to your other ear. "You can come over next week. I'll check my schedule."

"Really?" His voice immediately brightened, and you rolled your eyes. "Shivers! That sounds great! Just text me when—"

You swallowed the bile rising in your throat. Shivers? SHIVERS?

"Break's over, Hyungwon," you interrupted, forcing a smile into your voice. "Talk to you later, okay?"

"Yeah. Thank you, Y/N. I'll call you tomorrow."

The line went dead, and your fist clenched around the phone.

"God," you muttered to yourself, tossing it onto your desk with an exasperated sigh, "I'm changing my fucking break time."

"Should I come back later?"

You yelped at the sudden voice, spinning around in your chair to see your best friend standing in your office doorway, his signature Cheshire grin firmly in place.

"Jiminie!" you beamed, frustration melting away as you rushed over to pull him into a hug. "No, it's okay. It was just—"

"Hyungwon," Jimin finished for you with a knowing, apologetic nod. "You know, you could always just… not answer when he calls?"

You rolled your eyes, brushing a piece of blonde fringe from his face. "And have his suicide on my conscience? No thanks."

"He's a grown man. He can make his own decisions," Jimin shrugged, laughing when you widened your eyes in faux shock.

You shuffled back to your desk, stabbing a cherry tomato from your salad. "Aren't you supposed to be telling me to run back into his arms and admit I was wrong? Some sort of cousin code or something?" you quirked a brow teasingly, humming around the mouthful.

He laughed softly, adjusting the files in his hand. "I'd never tell you to go back to something you were clearly miserable in, Y/N. Even if he is my cousin."

You swallowed another bite, giving him an appreciative smile before finishing the rest of your water bottle. "That is why I love you, Park." You threw the rest of your papers into a folder and linked your arm with his. "And why I'm going to miss you so much." You pouted playfully.

Jimin rolled his eyes, guiding you out of your office. The usual hustle and bustle of level twelve filled the air as he snorted, "Don't say that. You're not going anywhere, Y/N."

"Mm, I beg to differ." You shot back, bitterness lacing your voice. "I haven't heard a word about permanency, and my contract ends in four days." With a dramatic sigh, you added, "Guess you'll just have to visit me at KimCo on your lunch breaks instead."

"First of all," Jimin smirked, "I wouldn't drive across town on my lunch break to visit anyone, even you." You squinted at him as he teased, "And second, yeah, it's shitty that you haven't heard anything about the promotion—"

"And unprofessional," you interjected, rolling your eyes. "And discourteous, and obnoxious, and plain fucking rude—"

He chuckled, cutting you off with a light shrug. "Yes, all of the above," he agreed as you both reached the elevators. Unlinking his arm from yours, he pressed the button to go up. "But… have you accepted the offer at KimCo yet?"

You frowned, glancing at the lit-up arrow pointing up. "No, not yet. I was going to tonight…" You trailed off, turning to him in confusion. "Jiminie, why are we going up? Our meeting's on level seven."

Jimin glanced down at the file in his hand before his mouth opened to respond, but the elevator dinged, catching your attention.

The doors slid open, and you were immediately hit with the faint scent of tobacco and Bvlgari. Your head turned slightly, seeking the source.

Jungkook stood inside, eyes focused on the phone in his hand, dressed in a perfectly pressed designer suit that somehow looked more sinfully casual on him than it had any right to.

You blinked, tearing your gaze away from him and turning back to Jimin, waiting for an explanation.

"Oh yeah, uh, the meeting's been pushed back a bit," Jimin said, nodding to the elevator. "But you're needed upstairs for a moment."

You frowned, glancing down at the heavy folder in your hands as you stepped into the elevator. If the meeting was postponed, you wouldn't have dragged this big fucking thing around with you. You left some space between yourself and the CEO and Jimin happily slid in between, his usual smile bright and easy.

The doors closed, and silence settled over the small space. Jungkook was still looking at his phone. Jimin still hadn't pressed a button.

You frowned. "Jiminie, why haven't you clicked a floor?"

He turned toward you, feigning confusion as his eyes flicked toward the panel. "Oh, because it's already pressed." He shrugged, flashing a quick smile before turning forward again.

You stared harder at the panel. From the corner of your eye, you could see Jungkook's broad frame. His phone was tucked away now, but his gaze remained fixed straight ahead. He hadn't said a word.

"Level nineteen?" you asked, a hint of confusion in your voice.

Jimin nodded, offering you a simple smile.

The elevator crawled its way up slowly with a few more words exchanged between you and Jimin. Then, finally, the elevator dinged open at level nineteen, and the air shifted.

The sleek, pristine hallway stretched out before you, polished floors gleaming so bright that you could almost see your reflection in the tiles. You had only been here once before, for a department meeting with the CCO, Kim Namjoon.

Jimin politely bowed to his boss as you instinctively stepped back, allowing Jungkook to exit first. His gaze never wavered as he nodded in acknowledgment, his movements calm as he stepped out.

As you followed Jimin down the hall, you couldn't help but notice how eerily quiet everything was. The glass-paneled meeting rooms stood empty, the reception desk vacant. The last time you were here, the place had life, but now… nothing.

Jungkook disappeared into his office without a word while you and Jimin continued walking. Your confusion only deepened as you glanced through the glass panes into all the very empty meeting rooms.

Jimin slowed at the entryway to Jungkook's office.

"Jiminie, what's going on?" you asked, gently grabbing his arm. "Am I supposed to have a meeting with Jeon Jungkook-seonsaengnim? Why wasn't I informed? I need to know what's required—"

"Y/N," Jimin interrupted softly, his hand covering yours reassuringly. "I'll explain soon, okay? I know it's last minute, and I'm sorry for that. Let me just make sure everything is on track." He smiled at you before gesturing to the plush seats outside the office. "Take a seat. I won't be long."

You hesitated, but trusting your best friend, you nodded, setting your folder on the table before sitting down. Jimin gave you one last encouraging smile before disappearing inside Jungkook's office, the door clicking softly shut behind him.

Your eyes darted around the hallway as you waited, the clean surroundings feeling almost too sterile, too perfect. The glass walls of Jungkook's office made it impossible not to glance inside. You caught a glimpse of him flipping through a file, his expression focused, detached. Jimin approached him, placing his own file down on the desk as the two exchanged quiet words.

Jimin greeted his boss again with a respectful bow. "Seonsaengnim," he smiled, placing the file in front of Jungkook.

Jungkook didn't look up from the papers he was thumbing through. "Is she waiting for me?"

"Yes, sir," Jimin replied, his hands clasped neatly in front of him. "You have about thirty minutes before the board meeting, so I thought now could be a good time for you to meet with Y/LN Y/N… The temp administrative assistant from level twelve? Her contract ends in—"

"Four days," Jungkook finished, finally closing the file in front of him. He reached for the one Jimin had brought, flipping it open. "Why hasn't her contract been extended? Her performance is strong, and she has streamlined operations in her department. Does she not wish to stay with the company?"

"She does, sir," Jimin nodded. "But I was informed by Namjoon-seonsaengnim's assistant that Lee Dohyun does not plan to extend her contract. He intends to let it end."

Jungkook's brow twitched slightly, his eyes narrowing as he flipped through the papers. "And why does Dohyun plan to do that? She's efficient, profitable. She cleaned up the mess the last administrative assistant left behind." His tone was clipped, irritation poorly masked.

Jimin shifted on his feet, the hint of hesitation visible in his posture. "I'm not entirely sure, sir. It's mostly hearsay, but…" he cleared his throat, glancing at Jungkook before continuing cautiously, "there's a rumor that she rejected one of Dohyun's advances a few months ago. Since then, word has flown around that he's been less than accommodating toward her."

Jungkook's eyes darkened, his fingers stopping their idle flipping as his gaze snapped back to Jimin. "So, he's punishing her for not entertaining him?"

Jimin's silence was enough of an answer.

Jungkook's jaw clenched, the tension in his shoulders building. He flipped the file shut, the subtle thud of the paper echoing in the quiet office.

"Why have you brought her to me, Jimin?" he asked, shooting a sharp look at his assistant. "There's a chain of command. At least six people between Dohyun and me."

"There are," Jimin acknowledged. "But some months ago, you mentioned noticing a significant increase in productivity and efficiency in Administration… You said the improvements could be attributed to the new assistant's work. I just thought considering her contract ends in four days, you'd want to meet her personally before she accepts another offer."

Jungkook leaned back against his desk, glancing at the glass door where you were sitting, your legs crossed, eyes absentmindedly focused on a strand of your hair. His gaze flicked over your tight black pencil skirt, the cream blouse that hugged your figure, the neat ponytail held in place by four bobby pins.

"She's very good," he admitted, eyes dropping back to the folder. "But I don't meddle in the hiring department. Tell Dohyun to reconsider his decision."

Jimin shifted slightly. "He's on leave for the rest of the week, sir."

Jungkook sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Then go to the next in command, Jimin. I'm not—"

"She's accepting an offer from another firm tonight, Jungkook," Jimin said quickly, catching himself. "Jungkook-seonsaengnim," he corrected. "Once she signs the contract with KimCo, there won't be time to make a counteroffer."

Jungkook went quiet; his eyes focused on the closed folder in front of him as Jimin pressed on. "Just five minutes, sir. That's all she needs."

Jungkook's eyes flicked up to meet Jimin's. He rolled his eyes, leaning back on his desk, arms crossing over his chest. "You're supposed to make my life easier, not harder, Park."

Jimin couldn't help but grin, looking over his shoulder to catch you glancing down at your Apple watch. He bit back a snicker when you rolled your eyes, clearly getting impatient.

"She'd be a big loss, seonsaengnim," Jimin said honestly as he turned back to his boss. "I believe I'm making your life easier. You live, eat, and breathe this company."

Jungkook groaned, closing his eyes briefly before nodding. "Send her in. Five minutes."

"Thank you, seonsaengnim." Jimin bowed, turning toward the door.

"Jimin," Jungkook called out, his assistant's hand freezing on the handle.

"Yes, sir?"

"Draft effective immediate termination papers for Lee Dohyun and put them on my desk when you leave for the night."

Jimin bit back a grin. "Yes, sir."

You straightened in your seat as soon as you saw Jimin approaching, eyes narrowing suspiciously. He looked like the cat that caught the canary, and you didn't trust it for a second.

"Y/N, this way, please—"

"No," you snapped, swatting his outstretched hand away. "Brief me."

There was no way you were walking into a meeting with the fucking CEO without any preparation. Was he fucking high?

Jimin chuckled softly, clearly enjoying this way too much. "Relax, Y/N. It'll only take a few minutes. Jungkook's not much of a talker…" He reached out again, and you batted his hand away once more.

He laughed again, then pouted, blinking at you with wide, innocent eyes. "Please, Y/N? Just trust me."

"God, you're a cunt," you muttered under your breath, shooting him a glare as you stood and smoothed your skirt. Reluctantly, you started toward the office.

"Unprofessional…" Jimin teased with a grin, snickering when you turned and mouthed 'get fucked' at him before stepping inside.

The glass doors clicked softly behind you as you entered the impeccably tidy office. "Seonsaengnim," you greeted with a bow. “Y/LN Y/N. It's nice to formally meet you."

Jungkook barely glanced up, his dark eyes sweeping over you for just a moment before he dropped them back down to the file on his desk.

His nod was curt, his voice low and indifferent. "Jeon Jungkook," he said, as if his name wasn't already plastered across every inch of this building.

When he gestured toward the seat in front of his desk, you sat down, crossing your legs as he settled back into his chair. His attention returned to the open file. "Your contract ends in four days."

"Yes, sir," you nodded, hands resting in your lap as you held back any trace of bitterness.

"Do you not wish to stay here?" His voice was steady as his eyes flicked up to meet yours.

You blinked, a little surprised by the question. "No, sir. I do wish to stay. But I haven't heard anything from management regarding a permanent position."

"Who do you report to?" Jungkook asked, though you were sure he already knew the answer.

"Lee Dohyun-seonsaengnim."

He leaned back in his chair, drumming his tattooed fingers lightly against the desk as he skimmed the file. "Your work is impressive."

"Thank you, sir." You smiled softly, ignoring how those four simple words made your stomach flip. "That means a lot coming from you."

His gaze lingered on you for a second longer before he closed the file and set it aside. "Y/LN Y/N," he said, his voice calm, "Why do you think your contract hasn't been extended?"

You blinked, momentarily thrown off by the question. "I'm not entirely sure, seonsaengnim."

Jungkook hummed. "You've been here almost a year. Your work speaks for itself. Yet your contract hasn't been extended." His gaze locked on yours, and for a second, he almost looked genuinely interested. "Why?"

You inhaled slowly, keeping your expression as neutral as possible. "I've heard rumors, sir. But I'm not one hundred percent certain."

An eyebrow arched, and Jungkook tilted his head slightly. "Let's say the rumors are true. Do you think personal reasons should outweigh performance?"

"No, sir," you answered steadily. "But I don't control the decisions."

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, and for a moment, his eyes flickered with amusement. Whether he appreciated your honesty or just liked watching you squirm, you weren't sure. "Do you plan on accepting an offer from another company, Y/N?"

You gave a slight nod. "Yes, sir. My first choice is KimCo. They've offered me a permanent coordinator role in their administration department. I plan on sending my letter of acceptance tonight, after my shift."

Jungkook was quiet for a moment, his dark eyes roaming over you lazily, but enough that it was impossible not to notice. "Is there anything I can do to change your mind?" he asked finally, his voice casual as he leaned back in his chair. "Or are you happy to go to KimCo?"

"I would prefer to stay, sir," you said, holding his gaze. "If Jeon Corp is willing to match the salary offer and I'm guaranteed a permanent position."

"What's the offer?"

"₩67m, sir."

Jungkook's expression didn't change. "We can do eighty."

"Wha—"

"I'll have your permanent administrative coordinator contract drafted by tonight and emailed to you. Will that work?"

It took you a second to process his words before you blinked in surprise. "Yes, sir," you replied, fighting to keep the smile tugging at your lips in check. "It would."

Jungkook leaned back further in his chair, his eyes flicking over you once more, lingering in a way that wasn't accidental. Then, with a simple nod, he closed the file in front of him. "Good. I'll expect your response by tomorrow morning."

You still don't really know how it happened.

Maybe it started when you stood to give him a polite bow before leaving his office, and he reached out for a handshake at the exact same moment. His cold hand accidentally brushed against the side of your inner breast through your blouse as you leaned forward, and suddenly, both of you froze.

Jungkook pulled his hand back sharply, his brows furrowing as he stared down at the file on his desk like it was the most interesting thing in the world, muttering a low apology, his usual confident tone suddenly gone.

It was... so cute.

Seeing the man who looked like he could ruin your life with just a snap of his fingers suddenly all shy and flustered as if he was more embarrassed than you were? Fucking adorable.

Maybe it was his instinct to avoid an HR complaint, to maintain professionalism in what could have been misconstrued as an inappropriate touch.

But you weren't going to misconstrue it. It was an accident.

And, honestly... you always were kind of a sucker for bad boys with soft eyes.

"Fucking goodddd!!!" you moaned, your voice barely coherent as your cheek pressed against the cold surface of his desk. Each relentless thrust from Jungkook had your body jiggling under him, your mind lost in a haze as his hips slammed into you without mercy. "S-so fucking b-biiiiig."

Your eyes rolled back, throat raw from the croaky whimpers that escaped between each ragged breath. His hand was firm on the back of your head, keeping you pinned down, helpless as he took you apart, piece by piece.

"I know, baby," he cooed, his voice laced with that condescending pout that only made you clench harder around him. "I know it's big, baby. But you can take it, can't you?"

His fingers tangled in your hair, brushing lightly over your flushed cheek in a teasing, mocking pat. Then, without warning, he pulled back and slammed into you harder, deeper, until you felt him hit that spot. That fucking spottt. Your breath caught in your throat as he didn't stop, didn't let up, just kept going, over and over and over.

Your mouth fell open in a silent scream, nails scraping into the polished wood of his desk until you felt the lacquer gathering beneath your fingernails. The loud, wet slaps of his hips against your ass echoed through the room, his heavy balls smacking into your swollen clit.

"'Course you can take it. 'Cause you're such a hard worker, hm? Such an overachiever, aren't you, baby." His voice dripped with dark amusement, each taunting word sending shivers down your spine. His hand pressed your head harder into the desk, the weight of him leaving you trembling, drool pooling on the wood beneath you as you gasped and whimpered, completely at his mercy.

"You can take it, Y/N. Know you can," he murmured, every word like a filthy promise, his gaze locked on the way your body was surrendering to him, giving him everything. He wasn’t going to stop until you broke. Until you were his.

"Color, baby." He growled into your neck, his breath hot against your skin. He hummed in delight when he felt you swallow, your gasps feeding into his satisfaction.

"Green," you choked out, barely able to form the words. "Do anything to me. Green, fucking green to it all," you cried, voice raw as tears blurred your vision, and Jungkook groaned, teeth grazing the delicate skin of your throat in approval.

His grip tightened in your hair again, yanking you upright until your back was flush against his chest. "G-g-godddddd," you choked out, body trembling, tears threatening to spill as his thrusts grew quicker, more brutal, each one slamming harder and louder, drowning out everything else.

Your hands shot up, clawing desperately at the back of his neck as you tried to hold on, your body burning from the inside out as he destroyed you. His lips ghosted over the curve of your neck, teeth grazing your skin just as his hand slipped down your stomach, his fingers finding your swollen, slippery clit with ease.

Jungkook's pace became punishing, driving into you harder and faster, your body quivering under his touch. His lips brushed lazily over your neck, whispering filthy praise into your ear as his fingers circled your clit, sending a jolt through your entire body. The wet, sloppy sounds of his hips smacking into your ass filled the room, each thrust sending you closer to the edge.

"F-fuck, Jungkook," you gasped, your voice cracking as his pace quickened even more at the sound of his name on your lips. "It's s-so… fuck…"

He groaned low in your ear, his hand fisting your hair tighter, yanking your head back as his hips crashed into you over and over. "So good, Y/N baby," he cooed, his voice dripping with lust. "You're doing so fucking well. Taking it so good."

The praise made your throat bob, your entire body teetering on the edge of collapse. You couldn't think of anything but him—full, Jungkook, full, Jungkook. It was all-consuming, the only thing that mattered.

You weren't just wet anymore—you were disgustingly soaked, your arousal dripping down your thighs, mixing with the sweat on your skin as he ruined you. You let out a sob as tears streaked down your cheeks, your mascara no doubt smeared beyond repair as your entire body burned with pleasure.

"Careful, baby," he hummed darkly, voice tinged with amusement. "Don't want anyone to hear you, huh. Coming to check if you're okay..."

Your eyes flicked toward the glass doors, your head lolling back into the crook of his neck as you realized the vulnerability of your position. Fucked out, skirt bunched up around your waist, tits spilling over your bra, completely on display and helpless in his arms—holy fuck. The idea of someone seeing you like this had your thighs pathetically trembling as you felt yourself get even wetter. Sicko.

"S-sir," you stammered, the words forced out between his relentless thrusts that threw your body forward. "Cl-close the blinds."

Jungkook's lips curled into a smile against your neck at the lack of conviction in your words. Fucking perfect. His breath was warm as he whispered, "Why would I want to do that?" His hand slid to your chin, his fingers gripping firmly as he forced your eyes to the glass. "Y'look so fucking pretty, Y/N. Who would want to hide all that?"

Humiliation mixed with need, making your core throb even harder. The reflection of your wrecked form stared back at you—trembling, sweaty, makeup running down your tear-streaked face.

Well, he wasn't wrong. You did look kind of pretty.

The thought of how many other women had been in this same position with him briefly slithered through your mind, but you whimpered, pushing it away.

"H-harder, Jungkook… please," you gasped, voice a broken plea. "P-please, baby?"

That was all it took. His low groan vibrated through you, his hands gripping your waist tight as he snapped his hips into you with a force that made the desk rattle beneath your hands. One hand cupped your breast, tugging harshly at your nipple, while the other slipped down to mercilessly slap at your clit over and over.

"Shit, shit, shit, shittttt!" you sobbed, your voice high and broken, pleasure tearing through your body.

"You're close, aren't you?" Jungkook rasped, his voice rough as his thrusts grew erratic, harder, faster. "Getting so fucking tight around me. Gonna come for me, aren't you, baby?"

Your mind was gone. You couldn't focus on anything but the feeling of him inside you, stretching you, filling you, owning you. "J-Jungkook..." you slurred, your head falling back against his chest, "please make me come, baby, pleasepleasepleaseeee."

Jungkook's arms tightened around your trembling body, and in one quick motion, he sat back in his office chair, pulling you down into his lap. You cried out as his hands hooked under the back of your knees, planting his feet on the ground and spreading your legs wide, completely open, and facing the see-through fucking doors.

He didn't give you a second to breathe before he started pounding into you again, his fat cock hitting so deep at the new angle that your body shook uncontrollably. You couldn't even hear your own cries—just the wet, obscene slapping of skin and Jungkook's gorgeous groans in your ear.

"Rub your fucking clit," he commanded, his voice thick with urgency. "Come. Now, Y/N. Fucking come."

Your hand flew to your clit, trembling fingers rubbing furiously, slipping because you were so fucking wet. "Jungkook," you gasped, voice breaking, tears pouring down your cheeks.

"No, baby, f-fuckkk, I'm sor—" You couldn't stop the sobs, your body convulsing as the tension coiled tighter and tighter inside you. "Jungkook, I'm—I'm so sorry, ahhhh fuckkk! I-I'm gonna squirt, oh my goddddd!"

"Fuck, yes," he growled, and just as your body started to seize up, his hand shot down, pressing hard on your lower belly and bladder, right where he was buried deep inside you. His hips didn't relent, pounding into you with the same brutal pace.

The pressure on your abdomen made everything inside you snap. Your scream tore through his office as your walls clamped down hard on him, your body shaking violently as your hand trembled, losing its grip on your clit. You came so hard that your hand slipped away entirely, but before the overwhelming release could fade, Jungkook's hand was there, replacing yours instantly. His fingers rubbed your swollen clit with intense pressure, refusing to let you stop.

"Fuckk, look at that fucking pussy, Y/N," he growled as he slapped your pulsing clit over and over. "Keep going, fuck, keep squirting on my fucking dick, baby, holy shittttt."

The filthy command tipped you over the edge again. The sensation was too much, and you started to gush even harder. Wetness sprayed everywhere, soaking his lap, drenching the desk. You were fucking gone.

"Holy fuck," Jungkook choked out at the sight of your cunt gushing out liquid, his hips jerking erratically as his body tensed beneath you. He came hard into the condom with a deep, broken groan, his grip on you tight as he rode out his release, still rubbing your clit with nasty, unrelenting strokes, making sure you didn't stop.

Your body convulsed violently, your legs shaking uncontrollably as he kept rubbing, drawing out every last wave of your orgasm until you were a trembling, sobbing mess. His big hand cupped over your warm pussy, feeling it throb beneath his palm as he slowed his thrusts, easing you through the last shudders of your release.

"My godddd," he growled, his voice raw with awe as he moved his hand and looked down at the mess you'd made. Your quivering pussy, glistening and red, his slacks drenched, the chair wet, and even some paperwork on the desk soaked through.

Fuck, he groaned internally. He's obsessed.

Your chest heaved as you slumped against him, completely spent, your head falling onto his shoulder. Jungkook’s hands glided up and down your trembling thighs, suppressing the smile tugging at his lips as you buried your face into the crook of his neck, clinging to him like he was the only thing holding you together.

"Well done," he murmured, his lips grazing your forehead before pressing a soft kiss there. You could still feel his heart racing against your skin as you tried to catch your breath.

"Seonsaengnim," you muttered, still panting, "I'm so sorry about your papers—"

"Shut up," Jungkook cut you off with a roll of his eyes, your sudden shift to formalities clearly grating on him. His hands continued their soothing path over your stomach, fingers brushing lightly over the soft skin before he gently adjusted your legs on his lap. His strong thighs kept your feet dangling above the floor, his touch softening as he patted your belly absentmindedly, his voice easing. "It’s alright."

You tried to gather yourself, your mind still spinning. "I haven't done that in a while," you mumbled into his neck, the words slipping out without thought. "God."

Jungkook swallowed hard, suppressing the mix of emotions rising in his chest. Pride at making you feel this way. Anger at knowing someone else had. His jaw clenched briefly before he cleared his throat, forcing a casual hum of acknowledgment. "Good."

He patted your belly a couple more times, as though resetting his focus. "You okay to get dressed?" he asked, his voice slipping into something nonchalant, though the grip on your thighs lingered a moment longer than necessary. "I've got a meeting soon."

You cleared your throat and nodded, feeling a little unsteady as you began to push yourself up from his lap. His hands helped guide you as you stood, and you winced slightly as he slipped out of you, leaving you feeling oddly empty. Your legs wobbled beneath you, but you ignored the sensation, letting your skirt fall back into place. You glanced around the room, searching for your panties.

You crouched down, looking under the chair, then the desk, even flipping through some of the papers on his desk, but there was no sign of them.

"Have you seen my…?" you trailed off, turning to look at him, feeling the confusion settle in as you noticed his casual indifference. Jungkook, now having disposed of the condom, zipped up his slacks with an air of calmness that seemed just a bit too casual for your liking.

You raised a brow, suspicion growing. His expression mirrored yours with a glint in his eyes.

"Where are they?" you asked, narrowing your gaze.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he straightened his shirt. Then, he casually slipped his hands into his pockets, and that's when you caught the faintest flicker of black lace peeking out from one of them.

You scoffed, stepping toward him, but before you could snatch them back, Jungkook caught your hand. He snickered softly as he brought it to his lips, pressing a mocking kiss to your knuckles.

“01J09. Lock the door when you leave, Y/N." His tone was commanding but light as he slipped past you, grabbing his suit jacket as if nothing had happened. He gave you one last look before walking out of the room, leaving you standing in the middle of his messed-up office.

You slumped back into his chair with a huff, quickly adjusting your bra and buttoning your blouse. As you started to tidy the room, you found some disinfectant wipes in a cupboard and began cleaning the desk, trying to distract yourself.

The sound of the door opening behind you startled you, and you quickly turned, assuming Jungkook had returned. But when you locked eyes with your best friend smirking widely at the scene, your stomach dropped.

"You fucking slut!" Jimin shouted, closing the door behind him as he made his way toward you, cupping your face with both hands. His grin was bright, teasing, as he shook his head in disbelief.

"Holy shit! I'm mortified that I just walked past and saw my best friend getting railed by my boss… but I'm also so fucking happy! So, are you staying? Are you guys a thing? How did it happen? Holy fuck—"

"Jiminie," you whined, pulling his hands away and turning back to the desk to finish cleaning, "I'll tell you later. My legs hurt, and we need to get to the meeting—"

"The meeting's over," Jimin interrupted with a snicker, "it's been an hour."

"What the fuck?!" Panic washed over you as you turned to face him, eyes wide.

Jimin just shrugged, still wearing that smug smile. "It's fine, Y/N. I took notes; they're on our shared drive. It wasn't anything important. Definitely not as important as the 'meeting' you were in."

You snorted, tossing the used wipes into the bin and slipping your heels back on as you made your way toward the door, legs still shaky. "Jesus, Jimin, I can barely walk."

"I noticed," Jimin teased, his voice full of amusement. "Want me to carry you?"

"No thanks," you replied quickly, shuddering at the thought. "I'd rather crawl than have anyone see you carry me out of here."

"Are you at least going to the bathroom to fix your hair and makeup?" he asked, eyeing you critically. "You look like you were attacked by a swarm of wasps..."

You groaned. "Yes, Jiminie. I'm going to the bathroom. Now stop pestering me, or you'll be having movie night alone tomorrow."

His smirk softened into a playful smile. "Okay, okay. I'll wait for you in your office."

You waited for him to leave before entering the pin code to lock Jungkook's office door. After hearing the beep and confirming the door was secure, you turned to head toward the bathroom, only to find Jimin still blocking your path, brows furrowed and eyes wide.

"Jimin-ah, move—"

"He gave you the code to his office?" Jimin's voice was serious now, the lightheartedness from earlier gone.

You blinked at him, confused by the sudden shift in his tone. "Yes. Can you please move?"

Jimin didn't budge. His frown deepened as he processed the information. “Y/N… He doesn't just give the code to his office out. To anyone."

Your stomach twisted at his words. "Maybe he'll change it later. He said he had a meeting to go to—"

Jimin shook his head. "He hasn't changed that code since he took over. And… he just canceled his meetings for this afternoon. I thought it was because…"

The sinking feeling in your stomach grew worse. Of course, Jungkook lied and just wanted to leave. What was he supposed to do—sit there and cuddle you? Offer you aftercare? This wasn't new for him. You weren't special. Just another woman in a long line.

You swallowed hard, ignoring the bile rising in your throat. "Jiminie, can I… meet you downstairs? I need to go to the bathroom."

Jimin's expression softened instantly, his hand reaching out to brush some hair from your face before leaning in to kiss your forehead. "Okay, love. I'll get you some water and wait in your office."

You thanked him quietly before heading to the bathroom, locking the door before you leaned heavily against the sink. Staring at your reflection, you sighed at the sight. Your sleek ponytail was merely a distant memory, makeup smeared beyond repair. And there, on your neck, was a deep hickey blooming against your skin.

"Idiot," you muttered to yourself as you turned the tap on, starting to scrub your face clean in attempt to erase every trace of what just happened.

What was happening to you? You never let stuff like this get to you. You'd had more than your fair share of one-night stands, and you knew better than to let them mean anything. It was nothing to him, and it should've been nothing to you.

But god, it felt like so much more than nothing.

"Idiotttt," you muttered again, this time more frustrated. As you aggressively wiped away the mascara and dried tears, your eyes kept drifting back to the hickey. You sighed, knowing you had no makeup to cover it until you got back to your office.

With a huff, you walked toward the toilet and sat down, your hand grazing the mark on your neck while you peed. The memory of his lips still lingered fresh in your mind, and the longer you sat there, the more the reality of it all began to sink in.

Fuck, you groaned internally. You're obsessed.

Jungkook pulled the keys from the ignition, stepping out of his car and adjusting the collar of his suit jacket when it shifted out of place. The door clicked shut behind him as he locked the Mercedes, casually slipping his phone into his pocket—right next to your panties, still snug in the black fabric of his slacks.

When he reached the reception desk, a fake redhead sat behind it, focused on a stack of paperwork. She didn’t notice him at first, not until the sound of his footsteps caught her attention. The moment her eyes met his, Jungkook noticed the way she straightened in her seat, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Oh, hello,” she greeted, her voice sweet but dripping with an attempt at seduction. “Welcome to Jang Merriott. How can I be of service?”

Jungkook swallowed the grimace threatening to surface, but his lips curved into that fake, charming smile he’d perfected for work events. “Hi, darling.” His voice was smooth, just the right amount of warmth. “I’m here for a business meeting, but I’m so silly...” He leaned in slightly, watching her eyes widen. His voice dropped to a lower, more intimate tone. “I forgot which room it’s in. Think you could help me?”

His eyes flicked to her nametag—Cho Minju—and when he looked back, he could practically see her mind spinning. “I-I…” she stammered, fingers hovering over the keyboard. “Do you have the name of the—”

“Lee Dohyun,” Jungkook answered easily, not missing the way she gulped when he added softly, “Thank you, baby.”

“L-Lee Dohyun,” she echoed nervously, typing the name into the system with shaky fingers. Then she paused, biting her lip. “I, um… I really shouldn’t if you aren’t—if you’re not on the guest list…”

“It would really help me out, Minju-yah,” Jungkook murmured, his voice taking on a softer, boyish edge. His brows furrowed just slightly as he leaned in a touch more, looking at her through his lashes. “If I’m late, Dohyun-seonsaengnim will kill me… I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”

Her wide eyes blinked up at him, her lip caught between her teeth. He could see the internal battle playing out in her head—protocol versus the hot guy in front of her. Predictably, protocol lost.

“Floor 13, room 304,” she whispered, her cheeks flushed.

“Thank you, baby,” Jungkook replied with a charming smile, slipping a hundred-dollar bill into her tip jar before walking toward the elevator. Minju’s breath caught again as he turned and walked toward the elevator, not looking back once.

As the elevator doors slid shut with a soft chime, Jungkook’s facade dropped, and he let out a small, amused scoff. He thought that was going to cost him at least a couple grand.

The elevator hummed softly as it ascended. When the monotone voice announced floor 13, the doors slid open, revealing a quiet, plush carpeted hallway. Jungkook strode out, his eyes narrowing slightly as he made his way to room 304.

“Jungkook-seonsaengnim?” Dohyun’s voice cracked in surprise when he opened the door, eyes widening at the unexpected sight of his boss. “I’m on leave, sir, is everything oka—”

The words barely left his mouth before Jungkook’s fist connected sharply with the side of his jaw. The force of the blow sent Dohyun crashing to the ground, his head snapping back as he sprawled out, half-dangling outside the doorway. His feet splayed awkwardly on the floor, barely moving. Jungkook nudged his limp body inside with the toe of his polished shoe, stepping over him as he calmly closed the door behind him with a soft click.

“Everything’s fine, Dohyun.” Jungkook’s voice was casual, almost too calm, as he crouched down to level his gaze with the man on the floor. Dohyun was clutching his jaw, eyes wide with terror, blinking back tears as he struggled to sit up. Confusion mixed with fear spread across his face, trembling as he tried to find his words.

Jungkook tilted his head, a slow, cold smirk pulling at his lips. "Great, actually," he continued, the menace in his voice unmistakable. His eyes flickered over the man on the ground as if he were nothing more than something to be dealt with. “And it’ll be even better in a second.”

TODAY

The soft click of heels against tile echoed down the pristine hall of level nineteen. Jimin and Hobi were either side of you, all three of you deep in conversation about Jimin's latest epic love saga.

“And afterward, we went and got ice cream,” Jimin sighed, a dreamy smile spreading across his lips. “And he even paid for my cone. I think he’s the one.”

You and Hobi shared a knowing look before turning back to him. Hobi giggled, shaking his head, while you leaned your head on Jimin’s shoulder, smiling warmly. “I’m sure he is, honey. Was it at least a double scoop?”

Jimin beamed, nodding enthusiastically, but his excitement faltered the second he caught the teasing smirks plastered on your and Hobi’s faces. His expression morphed into a pout as he narrowed his eyes at the both of you.

"Whatever. Just because you—" Jimin shot a pointed look at Hobi, "—don’t sleep with anyone more than once because of your deep-rooted commitment issues, and you—" he turned his accusing gaze to you, "—have found the only person in Seoul as crazy and fucked up as you to spend the rest of your life with, doesn’t make Min Yoongi any less of a perfect prince."

Hoseok grunted, crossing his arms dramatically as you broke into laughter. "You're not wrong," you hummed with a shrug, right as Hobi muttered defensively, "I don't have commitment issues."

It was Hobi’s turn to receive knowing looks from both of you before he sighed, dramatically slowing his pace as you reached the entrance of the meeting room. "Whatever, you guys suck."

Snickering softly, the three of you stepped inside, bowing politely to the handful of executives already seated around the large meeting table. As usual, the three of you were early, but you noticed that a few others had already claimed their seats. Unfortunately, there weren’t three consecutive spots left for you all to sit together.

Your gaze immediately went to the head of the table, the seat reserved for the CEO, which was still empty. You knew Jungkook was in a meeting with Kim Namjoon that had run overtime, so their arrival was indefinitely delayed.

The seat closest to the CEO’s chair—Namjoon’s usual spot—was unoccupied, but the one on the opposite end, typically claimed by you, Jimin, or Hobi, was already taken. You felt your blood boil when you saw Heejin, the newly appointed temp head of Communications while Sana Minatozaki was on maternity leave, sitting there comfortably, scrolling through a document on her laptop.

Jimin caught your eye, noticing Heejin as well, and gestured toward the chair next to her, silently offering it to you. You just shook your head, flashing a small smile as if to say, no fucking thanks. He and Hobi settled into two seats beside each other, leaving you to scan the rest of the room for an available spot.

Your options weren’t great.

A middle seat between Hailey and Vernon—two relentless chatterboxes from levels three and four—caught your eye. You grimaced immediately at the thought of being dragged into their non-stop, ping-pong conversation about god knows what. They could probably talk about fucking office supplies for hours if given the chance.

Then your gaze shifted to the next option: a seat next to Kang Minho, the scruffy finance head. As expected, he was already twirling a cigar between his fingers, his eyes twitching in clear defiance of the new no-smoking rule in meetings. The urge to light it was practically vibrating off him.

You sighed.

That left the only bearable choice: a seat next to Oh Sehun, the head of Technology and Innovation. He was known to be quiet and professional, and most importantly, he's least likely to annoy you.

Resigned, you pulled the chair next to Sehun, placing your laptop and phone on the table in front of you. He glanced over with a polite smile, nodding in greeting. You returned the gesture, settling into your seat and immediately focusing on starting up your laptop.

The room settled into a quiet lull, with only a few hushed conversations breaking the silence. Most of the attendees were either finishing up side discussions or preparing for the meeting as they trickled in. As your laptop booted up, you instinctively picked up your phone, slipping it under the table. Your fingers moved quickly, opening the location app and tapping on Jungkook’s name. The pin was still loading when you heard a throat clear beside you.

Oh, here we fucking go.

“Y/N-ssi?”

You locked your phone and turned toward Sehun with a forced smile. "Yes, Sehun-ssi. How can I help?"

His smile widened slightly, a little shy. "Uh, I just wanted to say… congratulations. Your promotion to Head of Operations & Efficiency—it's no small feat. Not an easy title to earn or handle. But I've seen your work, and it's… admirable. Truly."

You almost frowned, caught off guard. That was… really sweet.

"Oh," you replied, your voice softening. "Thank you, Sehun-ssi, that’s very kind of you. I appreciate it a lot." You smiled genuinely this time. "And I’ve heard a lot about you, too. Running your department is also no easy task, and you do it well."

Sehun grinned, his head dipping slightly as his ears turned a bit red. "Ah, thank you so much," he murmured, looking humbled. "I’ve learned a lot from our CEO, Jungkook-seonsaengnim. He’s incredible. One day, I hope to have my own business and run it just like him."

You bit the inside of your lip, warmth swelling in your chest at the compliment to your man. "He is," you agreed softly, your smile a little more private this time. "And I’m sure you will."

Sehun’s lip was caught between his teeth as his eyes seemed to linger just below yours, but before you could say anything else, the sound of footsteps echoed through the room, drawing your attention. You turned toward the entrance.

Jungkook and Namjoon strode into the room, their presence immediately commanding attention. Namjoon greeted the department heads with a dimply smile, but your eyes locked onto Jungkook. His gaze, however, wasn’t on you—it was unwaveringly fixed on Sehun’s reddened face. A flash of something dark crossed his features, and he didn’t spare you or anyone else a glance as he took his seat at the head of the table.

Straightening in your chair, you swallowed the scoff that rose in your throat. He didn’t even acknowledge you, his attention already on the file in front of him as he flipped through it silently. Namjoon’s eyes flickered over Jungkook’s hardened expression before realizing the CEO wouldn’t be opening the meeting. Clearing his throat, Namjoon stood up and took over.

"Good morning, everyone. Glad to see you all here," Namjoon greeted, flashing a bright, toothy smile. The room responded with polite murmurs. "We’ve got a full agenda today, so let’s start with—"

About thirty minutes into the meeting, you were still focused on your notes. Namjoon was wrapping up his discussion on a new marketing campaign strategy that had piqued your interest. You were typing up the last few points when Jungkook’s deep voice suddenly rang out. Your body reacted instantly, muscles relaxing after hearing him finally speak after what felt like hours of his silence.

"Sehun," Jungkook called out, his tone firm and commanding, and your head snapped up instinctively, surprised to find that Sehun had leaned over, perhaps about to whisper something to you while Namjoon was speaking.

"Did you have a question about the campaign strategy?" Jungkook’s voice was measured, but you felt the tension behind it.

Sehun jerked back, startled by the sudden attention. "Oh, I- no, sir, I was just—"

"Conversing with your colleague while your superior was in the middle of speaking," Jungkook finished for him, his dark gaze unwavering, pinning the tech head in place. "I'm sure I’d be more than capable of answering any questions you have regarding the project. Go ahead."

It wasn’t a suggestion—it was an order.

Sehun swallowed nervously, eyes flicking down to his laptop as if it held the answers. Then, foolishly, he glanced at you, probably hoping for some kind of lifeline. You could only offer him an apologetic look, knowing your boyfriend's ways.

Jungkook’s jaw clenched visibly, his irritation evident as he barked out, "Do you need her to speak for you?" His fist tightened on the table beside him, knuckles paling. "Are you that incompetent?"

Your gaze slowly shifted from Sehun, who was visibly shaken, to your boyfriend, who was fucking seething. You sighed softly, dropping your gaze back to your laptop, fingers resuming their typing with a small shake of your head.

And then his voice came again. A little softer, but still pissed. "Did you have something to add, Y/N?"

Your fingers froze mid-typing. The room fell into an uncomfortable silence. You could feel every pair of eyes turning to you. Everyone knew about your relationship with Jungkook. It wasn’t a secret, but it wasn’t exactly something you had announced over the firm intercom, either. Most of the department heads were aware and knew better than to draw attention to it, but there were still some, like poor Sehun, who hadn’t quite pieced it together yet.

When you looked up, Jungkook’s dark eyes were locked on you. From your peripheral, you saw Jimin and Hobi exchanging wide-eyed glances, while Heejin’s gaze flickered nervously between you and the CEO.

Every fiber in your bratty being wanted to fight back, make him repeat himself, ask him what the fuck he was trying to prove by putting you on the spot in front of a room full of department heads. But the professional in you won out, forcing you to bite your tongue.

You shook your head calmly. "No, sir." The silence was deafening. You turned to Namjoon, whose eyes were carefully trained on his papers. "My apologies, Namjoon-seongsaengnim," you said. "We didn’t mean to interrupt you. Please, continue."

Namjoon nodded appreciatively, sending you a brief smile before moving on. “Right, as I was saying…”

The meeting finally wrapped up, and everyone began packing up their things. Some were quicker than others to vacate the room, with Kang Minho leading the pack, cigar already halfway to his lips, lighter flicking in agitation.

You closed your laptop with a little more force than intended, irritation still simmering under your skin. Grabbing your jacket off the back of your chair, you stood, feeling Sehun shifting beside you, fumbling to gather his things. You could almost sense the apology hanging on the edge of his lips, and you sighed internally, praying he wouldn’t try and engage in conversation with you again.

Jimin and Hobi walked over, ready to leave, but your attention was drawn to Heejin’s voice as she spoke to Jungkook. Your movements slowed as you listened.

“Thank you for such a great meeting, seonsaengnim,” she said sweetly, her fingers tapping the edge of her laptop.

You clenched your jaw slightly, the inside of your cheek caught between your teeth. Namjoon had handled ninety percent of the presentation—what the fuck was she even thanking him for?

“I actually had a few concerns for the Communications department that I was hoping to run by you—"

"Take them up with your superior," Jungkook replied, not even bothering to glance her way as he slipped his phone into his pocket and made his way toward the door.

Heejin smiled, clearly undeterred as she closed her laptop and followed after him. "But you are my superior," she giggled. Your brows furrowed as you turned to look at her follow after your man like a lost puppy. Your grip on your laptop tightened.

Jungkook sighed, forgetting she had even been promoted recently. Still, he didn’t glance at her. “Make an appointment with one of my assistants, Heejin,” he said, his voice dripping with impatience. “I have somewhere to be. Excuse me, please.”

Excuse me, please? You rolled your eyes. Why doesn't he just tell her to get on her knees and get to work?

Heejin nodded, still all smiles as she left the room, laptop clutched to her chest. You gathered your things and fell into step with Jimin and Hobi. Jungkook paused near the end of the table, his gaze boring into you, but you ignored the stare, slipping between your friends as you headed out.

“Y/N-ssi,” Sehun’s voice cut through the air as he jogged to catch up with the three of you.

You sucked your teeth, glancing down at your watch. Fifteen minutes until your production conference. Enough time to grab something to eat since you’d skipped breakfast—thanks to Jungkook’s insistence on christening yet another room in your new house this morning. The laundry room, this time. And as it turns out, sex on top of a dryer was a lot better and less uncomfortable than you’d expected.

Jimin took your laptop from your hands, giving you a soft smile. "I’ll drop this off at your office. Hobi and I are heading that way."

You nodded in thanks, turning back to Sehun, only to catch Jungkook’s eyes glaring at you from behind the tech leader’s frame. His brows were furrowed, a silent question written all over his face—what the fuck are you doing?

Ignoring your fuming boyfriend, you refocused on Sehun. "You alright?" you asked.

Sehun nodded quickly. "Yeah, I just—" He started to say more but stopped abruptly, his body stiffening as if he could feel Jungkook's glare on the back of his neck. Turning, he blinked, clearly startled to see the CEO still there. "Oh—hi, sir. Once again, I’m so sorry about—"

"It’s okay, Sehun-ssi," you cut him off, drawing his attention back to you. "I need to grab something to eat. Is this important?"

Sehun shifted nervously. "Ah, well... it can wait." His ears were going red again. "How much time do you have? Did you want to stop by the cafe on level 10 before your conference? I was heading there anyway—"

At that, Jungkook’s head snapped up, his gaze zeroing in as he pushed himself off the table. You stepped around Sehun, positioning yourself between him and your clearly furious boyfriend.

"No, thank you, Sehun. I’ll catch you later, okay?" You kept your tone light, ignoring the fact that you had definitely not told him that you were on your way to a conference.

Sehun, still a bit confused, turned slightly to see what had you moving so quickly. And that’s when he saw it—Jungkook’s dark, cold glare burning holes through him. Before Sehun could stutter another word, Jungkook’s eyes flicked down to you, noting the goosebumps on your arms. He grabbed the jacket from your hands and silently made you slip your arms into it.

That’s when the realization hit Sehun like a fucking brick.

His face went ghostly pale, and you could visibly see him swallow nervously. "Oh my god… are you—are you two—"

You nodded simply, sliding your arms into the jacket as Jungkook remained silently brooding behind you.

"I—I am so—sir, I’m so sorry! I would never—"

"Sehun-ssi, it’s fine." You gave him a polite, almost bored smile. "Let's talk later."

Sehun barely managed a shaky nod before he bolted, red-faced and flustered, out of the room.

"You’re such a jealous psycho," you muttered under your breath, turning to face Jungkook, who was still fuming quietly. You puckered your lips for a kiss.

Jungkook just glared, his eyes flicking to your lips for a moment before leaning down to give you a quick, soft peck. You frowned, leaning in for another, but he pulled back, narrowing his eyes at you.

"Why’d you sit there?" he asked, glancing down at your jacket, noticing you hadn’t done up the top two buttons. When he reached to fasten them, you smacked his hand away, refusing to let him make you look like a nun.

"Because your girlfriend was in my usual seat," you shot back, poking him in the stomach before turning on your heel and heading toward the door.

"And I’m the jealous one?" he muttered, flicking the lights off as he followed behind you.

"Yes," you hummed, walking down the now-empty hall, clear of all the departmental seniors and visitors.

You reached the elevator when Jungkook’s arms wrapped around your waist from behind, his head resting comfortably in the crook of your neck. You smiled, pressing a kiss to his warm cheek as you reached out to press the down arrow.

"That poor boy almost pissed himself because of you."

"I felt like I was very soft on him," Jungkook shrugged, taking a deep inhale of your honey scented skin before pressing a kiss to your neck and standing upright. His hands slipped under your jacket to rest on your belly over your blouse, his fingers grazing your skin gently. "Could’ve been a lot worse."

You chuckled, rolling your eyes, but couldn’t resist the urge to look up at his adorable pout. You puckered your lips again, and this time, he gave in, leaning down for a proper kiss. Spinning in his arms, his hands fell naturally to rest on your ass as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss.

A soft moan escaped your lips when his tongue slid between them, licking into your mouth in the way only he could. It felt like only milliseconds before the elevator dinged, snapping you back to reality. You reluctantly pulled away, biting his lip gently before spinning around to face the opening doors.

The elevator revealed Kim Namjoon, standing there with his head tilted, eyebrow raised. "Jungkook-ah, the board is waiting. Answer your fuckin' phone, man," the CCO huffed, gesturing for you both to step inside with a hurried wave of his hand.

You smiled at Namjoon and walked into the elevator, Jungkook right behind you. His hand found its way back to your belly, rubbing absentmindedly as you hit the button for level 12.

Namjoon scrolled through something on his phone, snickering. "What time are you planning on getting there tonight, Kook? The RSVP says 6, but they don’t start serving drinks until 8, so I'll be there around 9," he chuckled.

Your ears perked up at the mention of the event. You fiddled with Jungkook’s tattooed fingers on your stomach, glancing up at him as you waited for him to respond.

"For what?" Jungkook asked, not looking up from his phone.

You almost frowned at his response. He already told you he had a sponsorship function tonight. Jungkook never forgets things like that.

Namjoon barely glanced up. "That promo celebration for the girl taking over for Sana-ssi?" He explained, locking his phone and leaning back. "Shit, I forgot if we need to bring gifts. I'll check with my assistant—"

You didn’t hear anything after that. Everything faded, the muffled sounds of the elevator blending together like white noise. Jungkook’s hand stiffened against your stomach, and that was all the confirmation you needed.

He hadn’t gotten his schedule mixed up. He knew damn well what event Namjoon was referring to. The "sponsorship function" was actually a celebration for that dirty slut from level 7, and that dirty slut from level 7 had gotten a permanent promotion, which would bring her even closer when fucking working with him.

The elevator doors slid open, and without a second thought, you shoved Jungkook’s hand off you and stormed out.

"Baby," Jungkook was immediately on your tail, ignoring Namjoon’s confused calls from behind.

"Wh— Jungkook-ah? What the fuck? Where are you going?"

"Baby, wait." Jungkook's voice was tense as he caught up to you, but when his hand reached out to grab your arm, you shoved it off aggressively.

"I’m so fucking serious right now, don’t touch me, Jungkook." You spat, whipping around to face him. He just shook his head, trying to step closer, but you put your hand up, keeping him at a distance. "I’m not fucking kidding—"

"Baby, listen to me—" he tried, his voice urgent.

"Get the fuck away from me," you snapped, digging into your pocket for your phone, your fingers trembling as you scrolled through your contacts. "God, you know I fucking hate it when you lie, and you just—" You groaned, your fist tightening around your phone as you shoved his hands off you once again.

"Who are you texting?" Jungkook frowned, trying to get a look at your phone over your shoulder.

"None of your fucking business," you spat, stepping out of his reach.

"Y/N, don't. If you're not going to let me explain—"

"My mom," you snapped sarcastically, your fingers flying across the screen as you started typing. "They finally adapted technology so you can get cell reception six feet underground now. It's great."

Jungkook scoffed, clearly unamused, but he continued following closely behind you as you started walking again. "If you can lie to me, then I can fucking lie to you, right?" you added mockingly.

He tried to grab your phone, but you dodged him, sending the message just in time. His jaw tightened when he saw the screen. "Like hell you’re sleeping at Jimin’s tonight, are you fucking crazy?"

"Well, I’m not staying in a house with a fucking liar, that’s for sure," you shot back, your tone sharp as you moved further away from him.

"You’re not staying at Jimin’s," he repeated firmly, his voice absolute.

His certainty made you laugh bitterly. "I’m staying at Jimin’s or I’m staying at Hyungwon’s. You fucking choose."

Jungkook’s fists clenched at his sides, his face hardening in disbelief. "Why the fuck would you say that, Y/N?"

"I don't have anywhere to go, Jungkook!" Your voice rose, frustration and pain bubbling to the surface. You could feel eyes on you from the staff scattered around the floor, but you didn’t care. "You are my home. I don’t have anywhere else to fucking—"

Jungkook’s expression softened when your voice broke, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. He stepped closer, his hands slipping under your jacket, palms smoothing down your hips. "Then don't fucking go, baby. Just don’t go anywhere, please. Don’t go to Jimin’s." He begged.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt the warmth of his hands, the familiar comfort of his body close to yours. His face rested in the crook of your neck, and despite your anger, you found yourself leaning into him slightly, knowing full well that getting to your conference on time now was just a lost cause.

"Tell me why you lied then," you mumbled, your voice quieter, your sniffles betraying you.

Jungkook pulled back, his thumbs swiping gently under your eyes, wiping the tears away before they could fully form. His fingers brushed under your nose as he wiped away the dribble there. "Because I knew it would upset you. We’ve been doing so well in our new place, baby—I didn’t want anything to ruin it." His voice was soft, almost pleading. "I’m so sorry, Y/N. I was only going to make an appearance and come home straight away."

You studied his face, your own expression softening despite the anger still bubbling inside you. You understood him, you really did. But you still hated when he lied. "Then why didn’t you just ask me to go with you?" Your voice wavered, doubt creeping in despite yourself. "Did you... not want to be seen with me?"

You didn’t even know where the self-doubt was coming from. Jungkook loved you. He loved letting people know you were his. He didn’t care who was around when he kissed you or rested a hand on your body, claiming you without shame. But something about Heejin… She got under your skin in a way that you couldn’t describe. Maybe it was because she’d been here longer, known him longer. She was going to be in meetings with him now—department head meetings, one-on-one meetings. The thought alone made you feel sick.

Jungkook sighed, his hands cupping your cheeks, and pressed two quick, soft kisses on your lips. "Don’t say dumb shit like that," he murmured, his voice soft but firm. He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking with yours. "I wanted to have a joint office, but you said that was unprofessional or whatever." He rolled his eyes, giving you a little smirk.

You blinked, hugging your arms around yourself, stepping back a little. "Then why?" Your voice was quieter now, laced with the confusion and hurt you couldn’t hide. "Why didn’t you want me to go? I’ve gone with you to plenty of functions."

Jungkook hesitated, and you felt the tension settle back into the air between you. His silence weighed heavy, and that familiar twist of anxiety and anger began to gnaw at you again.

"It’s because of Hyungwon, isn’t it?" you asked, even though you already knew the answer. "You didn’t want me to go because people from his firm are going to be there, and he could be too, right?"

Jungkook’s jaw clenched, his eyes hardening slightly as he averted your gaze. He didn’t need to say anything. His silence confirmed everything.

You let out a short, bitter laugh, shaking your head. Not only did he keep you away from a party celebrating the one woman you couldn’t stand the most when it came to him, but he also made sure you didn’t go because of the one man he had a problem with the most when it came to you was attending.

"Fucking hypocrite," you muttered, stepping further back from him, your stomach turning in disgust.

"Baby, it’s not like that—" he started, his tone filled with urgency.

"Then what is it like, Jungkook?" Your voice rose again, frustration spilling out as you threw your hands up. "You didn’t tell me about the party because you knew it would piss me off that it’s for Heejin. But you also didn’t want me to go because there was a chance Hyungwon could be there! So, what? I can’t go because you have a problem, but I’m supposed to sit at home and wait for you like a fucking housewife while you go to a party for a bitch that you know I can’t stand? How the fuck does that make sense?"

Jungkook’s face was a mixture of guilt and frustration. He took a step toward you, but you held up your hand again, stopping him in his tracks.

"God, can you just go away?" you spat, your voice trembling slightly as you felt the tears begin to well up again. Shaking your head, you started to walk away.

"Baby," Jungkook grunted, his frustration growing as he followed you.

"No, Jungkook. I need space. Seriously." You didn’t even turn around, your voice sharp as you neared your office.

"We don’t do space. That’s not how we work," he argued, right behind you.

"Well, maybe we need to start doing space," you snapped, reaching for the door handle.

Before you could pull the door open, Jungkook grabbed your wrist, spinning you around to face him. His eyes were intense, wild, like he was barely keeping himself together. "If you keep walking away from me, I'm going to follow you into that conference room and make you sit in my fucking lap during your entire presentation."

The seriousness in his voice made you want to roll your eyes, but you kept your expression blank, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response.

Jungkook’s jaw clenched when you didn’t answer, but he didn’t stop. "I can’t have you two in the same room, Y/N." His voice was low, almost dangerous, as if just saying Hyungwon’s name triggered something in him.

You just blinked, still silent.

“If I see him anywhere near you, I’ll kill him.” Jungkook said it simply, like it was just another fact. “I wouldn’t regret it. But they probably won’t let you stay in my cell with me, would they, baby?” His brows furrowed, head tilting as he asked, like he was genuinely curious to know the answer.

a/n i cut it here because the rest is nawttt edited at all and very rough 😬 but any takers on a part 3 ??!!?! just give me 6 months and it's all yours xx

[lady-ashfade]

All Is Far In Love And Farming

Chapter 1: Getting Started

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Yandere!Mha!Hybrids × Farmer! Fem!Reader. Chapter 1.

╰･ﾟ✧☽ storyline: The calling of being a professional farmer had been your dream since you were young. Growing up on your granddad’s farm was the best thing, many years later you happen to be back. And the property is now yours to restore. With some hard work, you want to restore hybrid caretaking back to what it once was.

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Chapters: Previous // Next

╰･ﾟ✧☽ words: 2.5k

╰･ﾟ✧☽ warnings: short chapters, stardew valley au, yandere behaviors, obsession, stalking, hybrid abuse, slightly sick love, possessive, manipulative, gaslighting. platonic yandere, hybrid and human relationships, and future warnings when more chapters come out, spelling mistakes and grammar who?

╰･ﾟ✧☽ characters for now: Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugou, Mina Ashido, Ochako Uraraka, Tenya lida, Denki Kaminari, Kyoka Jiro, Tsuyu Asui, Shoto Todoroki, Eijiro Kirishima, Hanta Sero, Mashirao Ojiro, Koji Koda, Momo Yaoyorozu

series masterlist

-`｡ﾟ˘: ﾟ⋆ ––✷☽ ᱬ ☽✷––⋆ ﾟ: ˘ ﾟ｡.`-

Everything you once saw, the brightest of grass and the crops ripe and perfect, and the animals in the barns chirping of happiness— it was all gone. once a happy place you roamed in the summer as a kid was now a abandoned filthy place, old bards with holes and damaged walls. Nothing was what it used to be, the grass was as tall as small trees and it was going to take a lot of lovin.

But if your granddad taught you one thing is that; working for a better future would make everything you did it worth it.

And that’s exactly why you are here, to make your future. Everything in your life was about becoming a farmer, like your grandfather. and like him, you believed hybrids deserved to be in a safe and open land to roam, not such in some metal factory and enclosed to live their life.

“Come join the number one hybrid farm in Japan, The League.” the tv rung in your ears back at the college room, the place had been taking over everything and running all the local and good places out. at one point the only place you probably could work at was The League, since they seemed to be everywhere. “New locations, New Areas, And New Pay. Call the number on your screen for more information.” you had heard the commercial so many times you rolled your eyes everytime.

Never did you believe they would come out here, and be the competition. 

Honestly, the first day your body was drained easily from all the work. The labor wasn’t exactly what you were expecting to start off with, moving the rooks and weeding. But you had supplies to start off with thankfully, the money he left you was so much, and ready for a new purpose. But the only thing that was helping you in all of this, your holy grail was a local store owner. Arthur, who happened to be your grandfathers best friend.

slapping the metal truck with the gloved hand, the old man smiled and stepped down from the back of the moving truck. you whipped off the sweat from your skin and catch your breath as the unpacked heavy boxes placed besides you and man.

“The old man used to buy twice as much as this and unload it all him, then complain when his back hurt afterwards. Lucky, he had me to talk some since into him.” the white haired man spoke breathlessly. you didn’t want him to have to help, seeing his age but he was in better shape then you by the looks of things. “Old bat was stubborn, you got that in you kid?”

taking a deep breath you arose from the bend down position you were in and look at the man, smiling a bit you commented back. “Used to give granddad a run for his money, I think I have it in me.” you were earned with a deep chuckle and a small one from yourself. starting back up again you closed the doors and gave the man who drove the truck the okay and he drove away.

the next day was worse then the first, your body was sore and tired, you wore sunscreen all over your body to protect you from the heat damage and the illnesses you could catch. unpacking all the equipment, getting them put together, and make sure the starter crops are taken care of. you took many breaks. and Arthur was the greatest help you could ask for.

you heard the story of how he met your granddad many times before, but you didn’t mind hearing it from his side. Arthur had moved from the United States to start his business with his family, and your grandfather was just started out in town. they were younger and bonded right away, and there for marriages, children and grandchildren. knowing he wasn’t as alone when you left was comforting in a away but you knew the full story. just before your tenth birthday you were moved away from the small town with your parents and left the farm behind.

“He talked about you every day.” The words perked up your ears. You looked at Arthur as he continued to work on a huge fan.

“Everything that happened in your life, he would tell me. What happened at middle school sport events, to dances and even show pictures of the dresses you wore. And man, when you went to college for Hybrid Education he was bursting with energy again.” It’s been a long time since he was able to leave the cabin. You knew that, but knowing still punched you in the guts.

“Was he proud?” asking was a waste of time.

“Proud as hell, there should be no doubt about it. His pride and joy was you, more then anything he did here, and now you have a legacy to continue.” smiling you continue to work to hold yourself from the weight building up in your chest. you missed him so much.

Each day there was something new to fix and call in, you knew granddad was rich from the bank account he left you. but boy, it sure was a lot of money. and now, you finally had a starting point. you had scheduled a barn repair on the electrical and building. the crops were set up along with the sprinklers and scare crows, even cleaned out the well…but not without getting algae all over you.

Smalltowns in the country side where the best, everyone in the community was helpful towards one other. And since The League had a location down the road, the people really came together. Businesses were losing in hybrid projects and animals, but the crops were the same. But this met more hybrids lost there homes, and had to be relocated elsewhere else or to The League…You hated it.

A big wooden sign at one of the joint shop centers made you smile and turn into the lot. today was the weekly event, selling of many things of local produces. you remember coming here as a kid and always getting blueberry jam from the market lady. and just like then, it was crowded. and with a lot of stalls and moving trucks. Arthur had told you they still had them and that you should check it out. of course you wouldn’t miss this for anything.

you shut the truck door and fixed your clothes before started the walk around. everyone was selling amazing things at their booths. the first table you saw was one cover in homemade soap bars and honey products. a sweet older couple ran that shop. some stalls were for hybrids for sale but you didn’t have room for them, at least until the barns are rebuilt. but milk, crops and seeds where your thing anyway to look at.

“how much for this?” the only person behind the table was a young girl who looked angry and ready to chew off your head, it was laughable. she was going to be hard to haggle, but a amazing work ethic. “I don’t know you, so twenty bucks.” your eyes widen and look down at the honey in your hand. it was a very small jar…and not worth it, I mean for the bigger bottles sure.

“Hmm, how about ten?” the small girl glared at your words and huffed. she shook her head in annoyance and pointed to the tag, “you trying to get out of paying hard working people lady? This is the best honey you’ll find in the whole country! Haggling is only for people I know,” her finger pointed at you and you back up a little at her shouting voice. “And you ain’t it!”

signing you pull out a twenty and handed it to her, she smiles so kindly you forget about the anger she had. placing it in your cloth bag you continue walking down the path, smiling and looking around. not much you could buy yet, though you did buy from groceries and loaded the up in the bed of the truck.

“well if it ain’t the talk of the town,” a sweet woman’s voice called out loudly. you turn your gaze and see a almost forgotten face, but one that filled you with joy and nostalgia. “Aunty Hoshiko.” You scream and rush over, the older woman comes out form her booth and takes you into her arms. only now did you realize the sweet small of jam and the jar’s decorated like they used to be, but this area was bigger and a extra tent was behind it.

“I couldn’t believe you moved back here after moving to the city, heard you got into a good college.” She smiled from cheek to cheek while pulling away. “Why come back here?” it was flattering how much she thought of you, but you couldn’t have stayed away from this place for much longer.

“Well, grandpa left me the farm and I needed to start my new life. Can’t get much better then a already laid for land, and with great soil.” she hummed but her eyes dropped a little and her smile became different. “I’m so sorry, he was a good man. you tell me if you need any help okay? Your granddad helped us a lot, so many people in town will be willing to do help too.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you smile and take a peek at the table, “mind if I look?” she is excited to show you all the new flavors and jars she has, letting you smell each one. she even offers you a discount for family.

you had a few jams picked out but you keep looking at everything, knowing you’ll come home with more. then there was a sign and paperwork around on a tables end.“Hybrid Rescues” is what you read and your hands reached for it immediately. seeing your interested, Hoshiko started to talk.

“The League has been running out businesses, hybrids are either purchased or…end up alone and abandoned. My friend runs a rescue company, we help her out here trying to give some of them a home.” you clinch the paper in your hand and want both more then to go punch the owners of the company. No hybrid deserves to be left alone.

“I usually have a few here with me, but today only one is for sale. He’s very special. And a house animal, or helper if you will since I know you don’t have much room for more yet.” the next step was to always get hybrids, but you weren’t sure if today was the best idea today…

“Oh!” that wasn’t your choice since she pulled your arm and lend you into the tent where only one hybrids sat. you struggled to look away from the hybrid laying in the floor.

He was huge. he looked peaceful tho, curled up on a bed and resting peacefully. he had long and pointed ears, a middle tail that curled. “he’s a special breed, no idea why they didn’t keep him since he must have cost a fortune.” there was a small scar on his arm and you hated to see, it looked like cattle whip strokes.

“tenya,” she called out quietly to wake the dog. you really didn’t know if you should get a hybrid, but seeing him already you knew you couldn’t say no. his furry ears twitched and his body rolled over ready to see what was happening. he was fast, and he was built. a pure breed for herding and hard labor. “I have someone here who needs a dog to help around the farm.” she patted you on the back and you got shy for some reason.

His tail was sticking up, his eyes glancing over and panicked. he was on high alert. “Hey buddy, my names y/n.” You smile softly. You don’t want to move until he gives you a sign. his nose sniffs into the air for a moment and his body freezes, you both stop for a minute too.

until the thumping of his tail was heard and he jumped up to greet you properly. you are taken aback and he gets excited and starts to shout, you can’t help but to smile. “My names Tenya, I am apart of the Iida breed. I have experience in herding, working and defending territory. I have many skills,” his hands reaches for hers and stuffs it into his nose to get a proper smell.

“Hello to you too,” you giggle. having some help now would be good, and a herding dog would the best thing.

“Tell me iida, are you okay with maybe coming home with me?” if it was only a dog he would for sure be jumping on you from how happy he seems to be.

Iida didn’t want you to leave to get things needed, saying it was his job to be with you now but you need to find food and things before leaving. he whined forever until he saw you again.

you came back to get him…like you said you would. he loved you, loved you so much. the kindest human he’s met.

Riding back to the farm was a journey. he was talking every second about all the things he could do, from each animal, hybrid or not. boy, was so happy to be by your side. and he was asking about you too. why you picked him? what you wanted him to do.

your heart broke once you got back to the cabin.

you held the door open and called for him to come in, but he just stood on the porch looking at you almost guilty. “Hybrids aren’t aloud inside, I must protect you from out here.” he was already looking for a place to set up for the night. it was a miracle you didn’t start crying again.

“Well, whoever told you that was a idiot. Many dog hybrids are aloud inside, and it’s my house so my roles go.” you tap the door again. he was hesitant, and it took about ten minutes to get him inside. and you told him to stay put while you get the things from the car…then told him it was a order to get him to stay.

you placed the things on the floor and smiled, proud of yourself. “Okay, so I got a large mattress for you. We can place it anywhere you want, also got you special food, hybrids approved.” he looked at the mattress for a long minute. Iida couldn’t believe it was his, he hadn’t slept on one of them since he was little, and then at the market earlier. And this one was his, made for his height and weight for him to sleep…inside.

“Your bought this for me?” He asked while poking at the bed, it’s softness amazed him. once he accepted his reality his tail starts to swing like crazy and crawled over to you, and hugged you lovingly.

“I’ll be the best boy I promise. anything you need I will do, anything.” his grip tightened around your waist and pushed his head into your plush stomach. you patted his head and thanked him, and told him he deserved to be loved and cared for.

That night, he placed his bed in front of your bedroom door and stood watch in his bed. to protect you, his master…his.

next chapter.

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@ please don’t repost my stuff to any other platform. This is my writing so don’t claim it as your own.

[floweycidal]

i keep thinking about how flowey had to construct the very concept of cruelty from the ground up.

not from watching anyone else, not by osmosis, but by cobbling it together himself in the garden where he woke up. alone.

this was a child who fell asleep to his mother's stories, who knew every inflection of his father's laugh. who spent endless golden afternoons with his sibling, both of them doubled over with giggles as they filmed their silly videos, messing up on purpose just to hear each other laugh. again. and again. and again.

so warm. so safe. where the gravest offense imaginable was maybe tracking mud on the carpet.

the worst fear, disappointing people who would love you anyway.

where could he even begin?

save. say these words that once meant comfort, but twist them just so. watch their eyes dim as something inside them breaks. load.

save. make a promise—you remember those, how snug they once made you feel—then shatter it. document exactly how hope crumbles. load.

save. try another combination. another betrayal. watch what splinters differently this time. load.

the world's loneliest science experiment.

look at the cruelty he creates, it's all so personal, specific. so devastatingly asriel.

watch how often he comes back to the idea of being replaced. of being forgotten. how he taunts you with the possibility that none of your relationships matter, that everyone will move on without you. that none of your choices mean anything in the end.

your fault. your responsibility.

if only he you hadn't made anyone love him you. If only he you hadn't loved them back.

of course he'd fixate on all that. how could he not? his mother, who used to speak his name like it was sacred, those tender words she reserved for him—for THEM—are now handed out indiscriminately, like candy to anyone who asks.

all he can do is take note: see how easily love transfers? see how simple it is to fade away?

so, he sneers. taunts you with the thought that it's all dust. you're just another passing face in the crowd. nothing lasts. nothing is worth the weight of caring. but even as he pushes that narrative, as his voice drips with contempt, he is still out there. in the ruins. checking on her.

observing from a distance, like maybe if he watches long enough, his past will solidify into something he can hold again.

flowey develops his cruelty like he's trying to solve an equation. if this word plus this action equals pain, then surely there must be some formula that yields not caring anymore.

if he'd just gotten it right. if he'd just kept everyone at a distance. if he could just be flowey. save. load. the answer has to be here somewhere.

but how do you quantify the sting of hearing her say "my child" to someone else? how do you account for the absence left in the places where joy once thrived? how do you document, in clinical terms, why you keep watching over people you swear don't matter anymore?

you don't devote yourself to perfecting devastation unless you remember, with searing clarity, what it felt like to be whole.

you don't give so much of yourself mastering the art of ridiculing attachment unless you're terrified of how much you still have left to give.

unless every attempt to prove love meaningless just confirms how much meaning it still has for you.

...point IS! flowey did an interesting job creating his own idea of a bully. it's all pathological. so crudely stemmed from his own sorrows and fears. he's created his own textbook definition of meanness...but then every chapter's just him screaming in a mirror.

[chancloud8]

CHAPTER 1

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Pairing: OT8 x reader

Word Count: 3,9k

Tags: Intro, bodyguard!ot8, idol!reader

Summary: Meeting your new bodyguards doesn't go as smoothly as everyone hoped..

‘I don’t need a group of bodyguards,’ you repeat for what feels like the hundredth time. 

Your manager Yoona doesn’t even look at you anymore and you fight the urge to stamp your feet like a little child to get her attention. You won’t stoop that low though, so instead you place your hands on your hips and glare at the woman who’s been by your side since you debuted about two years ago. 

‘We’re not having this discussion again, y/n,’ Yoona says, her eyes still fixed on her phone screen. ‘Your popularity is growing by the day, you’ve received multiple death threats in the last few months and in case you forgot, last week someone tried to break into your home.’ 

Your shoulders deflate and your hands fall down beside your body. You can’t really argue with that, but you’ve grown so accustomed to having Faris at your side as your one and only bodyguard, that the thought of eight men taking his place makes you shiver. Who the hell needed eight freaking bodyguards? You weren’t a princess for fuck’s sake. 

Yoona finally looks at you then. ‘It’s very important to us to keep you safe, darling. I know it will be an adjustment, but you’ll get used to it.’ 

‘But eight?’ you argue, trying once more. ‘Do I really need eight men following my every move?’ 

‘That’s why we’re placing some of them around you with other jobs as well, kind of like undercover bodyguards,’ Yoona smiles at you like that makes it any better. 

You slump down in the chair across from Yoona and frown at her. What could bodyguards possibly go undercover as in your team? Woman, sure, no problem, but a muscled man? They’d stand out immediately. 

‘What do you mean?’ you ask carefully, not sure if you even want to know. 

‘They all have multiple skill sets, but we decided on adding three of them as your dancers and one will probably step in as a personal assistant of sorts,’ Yoona explains, her eyes once more on her phone screen. 

‘Why?’ you blurt out. ‘I don’t even need new dancers? We’re not firing anyone are we?’ 

You were perfectly happy with your team as it was and it would kill you to let any of them go because Yoona decided you needed eight freaking men to watch you. 

Yoona sighed and put down her phone. ‘We’re not firing anyone, but Dohyun is still recovering from his injury and Ju-won has asked for a few months off to visit his family. As for why, it will allow them to be around you more casually.’ 

Damnit. That actually made sense. 

‘And you’re sure they can dance?’ you ask, already knowing the answer. Yoona would never suggest something like this if they couldn’t. 

‘Yes, y/n, they can dance. I think you’ll be impressed actually.’ 

That makes you curious. Yoona isn’t easily impressed, so if she thinks you’ll approve, they must be good. Maybe you should give them a chance, or just be such a brat they run away screaming. 

‘Fine,’ you sigh. ‘When will I meet them?’ 

Yoona looks at her watch and your eyes widen at the movement. She wouldn’t do this to you, would she? 

‘They’ll be here in an hour to meet you,’ Yoona says and you let out a relieved breath. ‘You better be back here by then or I will let one of them drag you here by your ear.’ 

‘Bossy much,’ you whisper, but you don’t really mean it. You luckily have a very good relationship with your manager and even though she drives you up a wall sometimes, you know she has your best interest at heart. 

Yoona rolls her eyes at you and waves her hand at the door. ‘Go be bratty somewhere else, I’ll see you in an hour.’ 

You bark out a laugh and jump up from the chair. ‘As you wish, my Queen,’ you say, doing a little courtesy. 

Your current bodyguard Faris is waiting for you in the hallway, a smile on his handsome face as he spots you. 

‘Good talk?’ he asks, following one step behind you. 

‘You knew about this, didn’t you?’ you ask, glaring at him over your shoulder. 

‘I’m the one who recommended them actually,’ Faris says and only his quick reflexes stop him from walking straight into your back as you stop walking immediately at his words. 

‘What?’ you turn around to frown at him. ‘Why would you do that to me?’ 

Faris raises his eyebrows and stares down at you with a knowing look, his arms crossing over his chest. 

‘Fine,’ you roll your eyes at him. ‘I know why, Yoona was so kind to remind me, but I still don’t get why it has to be eight.’ 

‘It might seem excessive to you Nabi,’ Faris says, addressing you with your stage name which he knows usually softens you. ‘But you don’t see all that we see and trust me when I say that once you’re on tour, you’ll be happy to have them by your side. It gets crazy out there.’ 

‘I know that, but undercover bodyguards?’ you make a face. ‘I’m not royalty.’ 

Faris chuckles and with a gentle push on your shoulder, he guides you further through the hallway and towards the studio you were working at before Yoona called you to her office. It was one of the things you really liked about your agency. Nearly everything you needed was in the same building. 

‘You may as well be and I trust Chan and his guys to keep you safe,’ Faris says as he holds a door open for you. 

‘So you really know them?’ you ask, sitting down at the desk you were working at before. Your laptop is still open on the editing program you work with and there are multiple notebooks, paper coffee cups and empty candy wrappers spread all around it. ‘Did you work with them before?’ 

‘I trained 3RACHA actually,’ Faris nods. ‘Chan and I had multiple gigs together after that and I’ve only heard good things about the others as well. I’m confident I’m leaving you in good hands.’ 

‘You shouldn’t be leaving me at all,’ you groan, throwing your head back against your chair. ‘But I understand and I hope that when I have a husband one day, he'll do the same for me.’ 

Faris just smiles at that and gets comfortable on the couch facing the door. He knows better than to get into this conversation with you again. Last time you ended up facetiming his wife in tears and he ended up having to calm down two crying women. 

‘Wait, did you just say sriracha?’ you sit up in your chair when your brain suddenly realizes what he had just said. ‘As in the hot sauce?’

‘No, I said 3RACHA, that’s what they called themselves back then,’ Faris replies, glancing at you. ‘I think they made music together in their free time, before they started their own company.’ 

Huh. Interesting. Why on earth would they go from making music together to becoming bodyguards? 

‘So all eight of them made music together?’ you ask curiously. 

‘No, just Chan, Jisung and Changbin. I think they mostly rapped, but if you’re interested in knowing more, you can always ask. It could break the ice when you meet them,’ Faris suggests, winking at you. 

‘I’ll pass, I don’t want them to think I’m happy about this arrangement,’ you murmur, turning your chair so your back is to Faris. ‘Will you tell me when it’s time to go?’ 

‘Don’t I always?’ he chuckles. 

You flip him off without looking and put on your headphones. Time to edit some more music. 

****

You’re so engrossed in your music, that it takes Faris multiple tries to get you to put down your headphones. He even goes as far as opening the blinds to let the light in, making you whimper and flinch by the intrusion of it. 

‘Alright, alright,’ you yell, your eyes scrunched close. ‘I beg for mercy, I’ll come with you.’ 

Faris laughs and closes the blinds, once again developing the room in darkness, just how you like it. He has scolded you many times before about how bad it is for your eyes to squint at your screen in a dark room, but you rarely listen to him about it. 

‘If you think about telling my new watch dogs this trick of yours, I’ll haunt you,’ you warn Faris when the two of you walk towards Yoona’s office. 

Faris makes a movement with his hands as if he’s zipping his lips closed and you nod happily at him, trusting him to keep his word. 

‘How late are we?’ you ask, having forgotten your phone in the studio when Faris basically dragged you out by your arm. 

‘About five minutes too early,’ he smiles proudly. 

Of fucking course. He’s been working with you for two years so he knows all your annoying traits by now, including having a habit of being late because you simply forget the time when you’re working. 

‘What will I do without you,’ you pout at him, ignoring the nervous butterflies in your stomach as you near Yoona’s office. 

‘You’ll be just fine, Nabi,’ Faris says and you’re not sure if he means it as a reply to what you just said or as a reassurance before meeting your new team of bodyguards. 

Taking a deep breath, you turn towards Faris. ‘How do I look?’ 

‘I thought you didn’t care?’ he grins, but he reaches out to flatten a few wild strands of your hair. 

You blow him a kiss, put on a straight face and turn around to knock on the door before pushing it open. The first thing you’re greeted with is the silhouette of 4 men standing with their back to you. Each of them have broad muscular shoulders that are clearly visible under the black suit jacket they’re wearing, the fabric straining like they’re wearing a size too small. 

The man on the right turns around when you enter and you nearly gasp at his beauty. His hair is styled to show a little v of his forehead and the black strands nearly reach his eyes. Jesus. He could be a model if he wanted too. He raises his eyebrows at you when you just stare at him for a moment, before he nudges the man next to him. 

‘Are you fucking kidding me,’ you mutter under your breathe when the other man turns around and piercing eyes meet yours. 

Of course he’s beautiful as well. What the hell was Yoona thinking? 

‘Ah, Y/N, there you are,’ Yoona says when she notices you. ‘On time, even.’ 

You roll your eyes and stroll forward to her desk, ignoring the four men as you make your way around them. In that little moment you forget there’s supposed to be more of them and when you turn to stand next to Yoona and see the chairs in front of her desk filled with four more gorgeous men, you nearly stumble. 

Yoona grins at you and you narrow your eyes at the woman. 

‘You think this is funny, don’t you?’ you grumble at her. ‘Where did you even find them? heaven?’ 

One of the men snorts before trying to cover it up with a cough. 

‘Don’t mind her gentleman, she’s in a mood today,’ Yoona smiles. 

‘I wonder why,’ you mutter, sending a fake smile in the direction of the bodyguards. 

‘That’s alright, it must be a lot to take in,’ one of them says with such a deep voice that your eyes widen. 

It must look comical, cause the same man that snorted earlier, lets out a giggle. ‘Don’t worry, Miss, it’s how everyone reacts to first hearing Felix’s voice,’ 

You want to focus on him calling you Miss, but the urge to see which face belongs to the deep voice is stronger.

‘Who’s Felix?’ you ask, your eyes searching the men in front of you. 

‘I am,’ the only blonde man of the group says, lifting his hand to show you where he is. He’s absolutely stunning with freckles sprinkled over his nose and cheeks. 

‘Holy shit, is that your real voice?’ you ask without thinking, slapping your hand in front of your mouth as soon as the words come out. 

He laughs and a few of the other men chuckle as well. 

‘It is, sometimes it gets even deeper,’ he says. 

‘Yeah, Lix actually has like three different voices,’ the man who called you Miss grins. 

It’s getting annoying not to know his name, but you don’t want to ask and seem interested. Luckily one of the men at the back seems to read your mind somehow. 

‘Why don’t we all introduce ourselves, my name is Bang Chan, but you can call me Chan. I’m the leader and head of your security team as of now. So if you experience any problems with our service in any way, I’m the one you can come to.’ 

‘Noted,’ you mumble, ignoring Yoona’s glare at your rudeness. 

So that’s Chan. Faris forgot to mention how beautiful his trainee was and you were so going to punch his arm for that later. 

‘I’m Lee Minho,’ the one with the piercing stare says. ‘I’ll be joining your dance team.’ 

Fuck. Of course he is. 

‘So will I,’ Felix smiles. ‘Lee Felix.’

‘And me, Hwang Hyunjin,’ the man closest to you winks. 

Great. They were absolutely going to kill you. In more ways than one. 

Biting your lip you wait for the last four to introduce themselves and pray to all the gods that Miss guy is going to be your assistant. He already feels like the most easy going out of all eight and if you need to work with one of them closely, you’d rather it be him than anyone else. 

‘Kim Seungmin, I’ll be one of your bodyguards’ the one who noticed you first says, his eyes flicking up and down your body as if he’s calculating how much of a flight risk you are. 

Oh just you wait and see buddy. 

‘I’m Yang Jeongin, but you can call me Innie or Ayen,’ the very cute man in front of Seungmin smiles and you nearly smile back at him. 

Finally the man you’ve been waiting for speaks up. ‘I’m Han Jisung, your new assistant.’ 

You cheer in your head, keeping a straight face as you look at the last man. He’s definitely the most buff of them all, his biceps really testing the fabric of his suit jacket. 

‘And I’m Seo Changbin, also part of your daily bodyguard squad.’ 

‘You’re all way too beautiful to be bodyguards,’ you say, crossing your arms with a frown while tapping your foot on the ground. 

Yoona makes a noise beside you and you don’t dare to look at her. She’ll definitely lecture you later, but this is all on her anyways. 

‘Worried your fans will fawn over us?’ Jisung jokes, winking at you. 

Your lips tip up in a tiny smile, but you quickly straighten your face. It was going to be hard to be a brat to them, but you were nothing if you weren’t stubborn. You’re not going to just warm up to them because they were hot and funny. Nope. Not going to happen. 

‘More like you’d be too busy worrying about your good looks to protect me,’ you say, raising your eyebrows at them. 

‘Aren’t you a ray of sunshine,’ Minho grumbles, placing his hand on Jisung’s shoulder as if to comfort him. ‘You won’t have to worry about that, looking this good doesn’t cost us much.’

You open your mouth to reply, but Yoona gets up and goes to stand next to you. 

‘That’s enough Y/N,’ she hisses before smiling her million dollar smile to the men. ‘As you can see Y/N hasn’t really warmed up to the idea of having this many eyes on her all the time.’ 

‘Don’t you have that all the time though,’ Seungmin says directly to you. 

You glare at him. ‘That’s not the same. 

He just shrugs. ‘We don’t want anything from you like your fans or stalkers. We’re not here to be your friends, we’re just here to keep you safe. That’s all that should matter.’ 

His words hit you harder than they should and you can’t help but flinch. The idol life isn't great for maintaining friendships and since you weren’t in a group, the only people you really had around you to talk to were your bodyguard Faris, Yoona and your dancers. You didn’t have a best friend, or even really friends in general, not since high school ended. 

‘Min!’ Chan calls out, glaring at the man. 

You square your shoulders and tilt your head, putting another fake smile on your face. ‘It’s fine, he’s right isn’t he.’ 

‘No, he’s not,’ Chan shakes his head. ‘Listen-’ 

‘It’s fine,’ you repeat, interrupting him. ‘How about I’ll show Jisung his office and we can go over the schedule for next week?’ 

Chan frowns down at you, sharing a look with Jisung and Yoona, but then he nods. You give him a nod back in thanks and without looking at any of the other guys you make a beeline for the door, hoping Jisung will follow you. 

‘Well, that went great,’ you hear someone say before you step outside. 

Faris frowns when he sees the look on your face, but he doesn’t say anything and falls into step behind you like he always does. It’s one of the things you love about him, he always knows when to not ask questions. You can hear him and Jisung quietly talking behind you, but you don’t mind, they know each other after all. 

‘Well, here we are,’ you say, opening the door of the small office area next to the studio you usually work at. ‘You can arrange everything how you like and if you need anything you can ask Yoona.’ 

‘I wasn’t expecting an office,’ Jisung smiles at you, stepping inside the room to take a look. 

It’s not much. Just a desk with a comfortable chair and a computer, a two person couch and in the corner there’s a bookcase that so far only houses a cactus, your first three albums and a box with documents your last assistant left behind. 

‘Of course you get an office, can’t have you shacking up with me in the studio,’ you say, trying to joke with him. 

‘Hey, about what Seungmin said,’ Jisung starts, sitting down in his desk chair and twirling around. ‘He’s just very serious about his job, he didn’t really mean the part about us not being your friends.’ 

‘It’s fine,’ you shrug. ‘You’re not really meant to be my friends anyways, you’re hired to protect me.’ 

‘Yeah, you don’t look too happy about that. Why is that?’ Jisung asks and he sounds genuinely curious. ‘I mean, sure we’re a whole lot, but isn’t it nice to know you’ll be safe?’ 

‘Safe? Yes. Watched by eight, I repeat, eight men? No thank you, I don’t need that.’ 

Jisung tilts his head and purses his lips in thought, like he’s actually trying to see this from your side. ‘I get it, I do, I’ve lived with most of them for the last few years and like I said, we can be a lot.’ 

‘But?’ you ask, falling down on the couch in front of Jisung’s new desk. ‘I feel there’s a but there.’ 

‘You really have no idea, do you?’ Jisung leans his chin on his palm as he looks at you. ‘We’ve seen the threats Y/N, we’ve seen the video’s of handsy fans, we’ve seen the footage of that dude trying to break into your house. It’s a miracle really that nothing has happened to you so far with only Faris by your side.’ 

‘He’s right, Nabi,’ Faris says from his spot by the door. 

‘Okay, maybe more than one bodyguard would be better,’ you say slowly. ‘But eight? I still think it’s a bit much, especially the undercover bit.’ 

Jisung shrugs and leans back in his chair, folding his hands behind his head. ‘Maybe so, but at least you’ll know you will be safe.’ 

‘I guess,’ you mumble. 

‘Wanna go over the schedule for next week with me?’ Jisung asks. ‘Get your mind off all this for a bit?’ 

You jump up from the couch immediately and walk around the desk to stand next to him while he starts up the computer. 

****

About half an hour later you’re fairly confident Jisung will make a good assistant. He’s written down your interviews and gigs for the coming month and made a list of all the things he wanted to take care of before that. It was cute how he wanted to do it right. 

‘Knock, knock,’ a voice called out from the door and when you looked up you saw Chan and Changbin hugging Faris. 

‘How’s it going here?’ Chan smiles at you as he walks inside, his hands in his pocket. He probably tried to come off less intimidating like that, but it didn’t really work. 

‘Fine,’ you say, looking at the computer screen again. 

If you kept your eyes on him you’d probably drool all over your favorite studio outfit. That man was way too fine. 

‘It’s going great, Channie,’ Jisung says. ‘We’ve been getting along perfectly without the ice kings here.’ 

‘Don’t let them hear you call them that,’ Chan chuckles, moving to sit on the couch. ‘I hope we’ll be able to make this work, Y/N. I take great pride in my work and I’ll do anything I can to make you feel comfortable around us.’ 

Ugh. Why did he have to be so kind too? 

‘Thank you,’ you mutter, your eyes still on the screen. 

‘We’ll promise not to impose your privacy too much when we move in, but–’ 

Your head snaps up to look at him then and from the corner of your eyes you notice Jisung covering his face with his hands. 

‘What did you just say?’ you ask, standing up. ‘Please tell me I didn’t just hear you say the words moving in?’ 

‘Uhm,’ Chan tilts his head in confusion. ‘I thought you knew?’ 

‘Knew. What?’ you growl, your fingers balling up in fists. 

‘Oh boy,’ Jisung whispers and you turn to glare at him. 

‘You knew about this?’ 

‘Uhm, we all did? And we figured so would you,’ he shrugs, looking at you with big innocent eyes. 

You close your eyes, not at all immune to those brown doe eyes. If you keep looking at him you will stop being angry and you can’t do that. Not now. 

‘If somebody doesn’t tell me very soon what exactly this thing I’m supposed to know is, I will scream,’ you clench your jaw and take a shaky breath. 

This can’t be happening. They are not moving into your house with you. Yoona won’t do that to you, not after your talk this morning. Right? You close your eyes in frustration, already knowing the answer to your own question. She will. 

‘Such a drama queen,’ a new voice speaks up from the door and when you turn your head, already seeing red, you see Minho smirking at you. 

Changbin and Faris look concerned and when you look back at Chan, he actually looks like he’s pitying you. Fuck. 

‘Just say it already.’

‘Well, we’re supposed to move into your new house with you,’ Chan says, confirming it. 

Oh hell no. 

a/n: eeeeeeekkk I'm so excited for this series you have no idea!! I wasn't going to upload till tomorrow, but @staylovesmiley made me flip a coin and here I am at midnight, feeding you the first chapter.

Please let me know your thoughts <3

taglist: @jaeminie-cricket @jeonginsbaee @staylovesmiley @newbbystay @cashtonsbetch @mariahxrrera @kaleigh-2002 @silencionyx @smileykiddie08 @my-neurodivergent-world @yaorzu-blog @yoongiismylove2018 @staytinyluv @bookswillfindyouaway @queen-thiccness @notastraykid @ateez-atiny380 @estella-novella @furfoxsake22 @hyunjinhoexxx @insomnjen @hannahisnotblue @vivilovesuu @velvetmoonlght @skz8love @eastjonowhere @stellmeiv @bookishcaptain @flylis @deadpool15 @0325ale @thatgirlangelb @iknow-uknow-leeknow @nchhuhi @shycreationdreamland @readr1221 @beewilko

[atlabeth]

family line

pt 2

pairing: spencer reid x gideon!reader

a/n: pardon the end where i just go into endless conversation for no reason but i cannot control myself. anyways thank you sosososo much for all the love on the last part and gideon!reader as a whole it makes me so happy!! enjoy some dad-daughter-spence car convos(arguing) and some elle time

wc: 3.8k

warning(s): the usual! r and gideon argue, gideon is not a good dad(but theres some reconciliation), angst, hurt/comfort, but some fluff between r and gideon & spence. more of a set-up chapter

The drive over to the safe house is a long one, and unfortunately, not a quiet one. 

Spencer takes the back seat, leaving shotgun for you with your dad. He spends the entirety of the drive briefing you on what living in a safe house will entail, all the things you can and can’t do. 

You can’t use your phone because it could be tracked. You can’t leave the place without Spencer because you are, in fact, being stalked. You’re not to reveal anything about your location to anyone—you’re basically shut off from the world until the unsub is behind bars. 

And once he’s done briefing you, he basically starts interrogating you. 

“Have you been contacted like this before in any way?” 

You huff a laugh. “What, with creepy pictures of myself? No.” 

“Anything unsettling,” he clarifies. “A text message, a call, an email— anything that rubbed you the wrong way that you might’ve just passed off as a joke or spam.” 

“No,” you repeat. 

“You’re sure?” 

“How many times do I have to say no?” You pull your phone out of your pocket and stare at your dad. “Go through it if you want. You won’t find anything.” 

He pauses, then he nods. “Reid.” 

You shake your head with a slight laugh, then turn it over as Spencer extends a hand. He flips it open and starts to go through it, and you just cross your arms and stare out the windshield. 

“We should really hand this over to Garcia,” he says. “She’ll be able to do a lot more than I can. I don’t really—”

“Like technology, I know,” your dad finished. “We will. Just trying to get all the leads we can upfront.” 

You sigh, but you keep quiet. You guess you can’t really consider it an invasion of privacy when there’s a stalker after you. 

“We typically talk to stalking victims for a while to figure out their lifestyle and possible suspects, as well as the type of stalker we’re dealing with,” Spencer says. “We don’t exactly have the time for that here.” 

“This unsub has already been watching you for a month, maybe more,” your dad says. “He’s made his first move by reaching out to me—that means he wants us to know about him, wants you to know about him.” He glances over at you. “He wants to scare you. You’re not going to give him that satisfaction.” 

“You’re jetting me off to a safehouse before you’ve even gotten the chance to look into any leads,” you say. “It looks like we’re pretty scared, Dad.” 

“It’s preparation,” he says. ��The unsub has made his first move—I’m not going to wait around for him to make another and compromise your safety.” 

“This could also be a lot more dangerous than we think,” Spencer says. You still hear him clicking through your messages, and you’re beginning to regret your decision to turn it over to him. “Our unsub could be someone after Gideon using you as collateral.” 

Your heart stops for a split second and your attention snaps to your father. “What?”

“…It is a likely option,” he says. “Very few people know you as my daughter. Someone who wants to hurt me could try to use you to do it.”

“So I was right,” you say. “This is only happening because I’m your daughter.”

“Do you want me to say yes?”

“Yes!” you exclaim. “Yes— I want you to admit that I’ve missed out on all the positives of you being my dad and gotten stuck with all the negatives!”

“This is not the time,” he says. 

“How is it not the time?” you ask with a laugh. “You’ve said it yourself several times— my life is in danger. There’s someone out there that might kill me to get back at you. What is a better time than this to talk about how shitty of a dad you’ve been?”

“A better time would be when we aren’t this high strung,” he says evenly. “Neither of us are thinking as properly as we should be. We don’t want to say anything we’ll regret.”

“Oh, I don’t think I’ll regret any of this,” you say. “After all, I could be dead soon, right? I should get all those regrets out of the way.”

“Please stop arguing,” Spencer interrupts hastily. “This— this is very uncomfortable.”

You scoff. The flames burn just as bright, but for some reason, you decide to hold them back a bit. 

“I’m sure it’s real hard for you, boy genius.”

The silence lingers. You can tell he wants to say more, but he doesn’t. Your dad, to his credit, doesn’t stoke the fire.

It looks like you’re all capable of restraint today. 

“I— I went through all her messages,” Spencer continues. It irks you that he talks like you’re not here. “There’s nothing suspicious there, at least.”

“Good,” your dad says. “I’ll hand it over to Garcia after I drop you both off.”

“We’re not gonna have a car?” you ask.

“You’ll have this one,” he says. “That’s why Agent Greenaway is following us.”

“Elle’s coming?” Spencer asks, and you see him perk up. You belatedly wonder what that deal is. 

“Just so she can drive me back to the office,” your dad says. “She offered.”

“What’s everyone else doing?” 

“Garcia is digging through some of your personal records for the team,” he says, glancing at you. “JJ is in contact with the local police stations so they’re ready once we have a profile. Morgan and Hotch should be looking through every case I’ve closed to get a running list of suspects.”

“Great,” you say as you lean back in your seat. “Nothing like getting my whole life aired out and put under a microscope.”

“It already is,” Spencer says. “You’ve got a stalker.”

“Thanks, Spencer,” you mutter. “I forgot.” 

-

The rest of the drive goes by with ease—at least, relative to how difficult you’ve made everything else. 

You’re already sick of Spencer Reid by the time you get out of the car. You don’t know how you’re going to survive such close quarters under these kinds of circumstances. 

Another car parks next to you as the three of you get out, and your eyes are drawn to the woman that steps out. 

“Easy drive?” your dad asks. 

“I was right behind you,” Agent Greenaway says. “You drive like an old man.” 

Your dad just barely smiles. “Stay with her, Elle. Reid and I are going to check the perimeter.” 

“You can’t be serious,” you cut in. 

“I already told you I’m not taking chances with this,” he says, and he takes his gun out. “This won’t take long.” 

Spencer takes his out as well—he carries it with both hands, like it’s actually weighing him down, and it’s a bit ridiculous—and they split to cover both sides of the house and the surrounding area. You sigh and shake your head as you cross your arms. 

“He’s certainly spirited,” Agent Greenaway says. 

You huff a laugh. “That’s one way to put it.” 

“I’m Elle, by the way,” she says. “I know we haven’t been formally introduced.” 

You nod your acknowledgment and say your name. “Nice to meet you.” 

She turns to fully face you. “Do you mind if I say a few things?” 

“If it’s about my dad—”

“It’s not,” she interrupts with a wry smile, “I promise.” 

You shrug. “Then sure.” 

“First, I just want to ask if you’re doing alright,” she says. “You’ve gotten a lot dropped on you all at once.”

“I’m as good as I can be,” you say. 

Elle nods, and her eyes soften. “I’m not gonna tell you to take it easy on Gideon. He’s an incredible agent, but that makes it hard to be a good dad.”

You don’t say anything, and she continues. 

“My dad was on the force too. I resented him for a lot of my childhood because he was gone so often, but… then he was killed in the line of duty.”

You frown. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Elle nods in thanks. “I’m not trying to get sympathy. I’m just saying I know what it’s like.”

You shift your balance and sigh, glancing away momentarily. “Everyone here sees him as a hero, and— and he is. He started this whole thing and you all save lives every day, but it feels like he’s missed my entire life because of it.” You huff a bitter laugh. “I think you all know him better than I do.”

“I think you’re probably right,” she admits. “You deserve to be angry. And honestly, I think you deserve to hate him some for it.” 

You huff a slight laugh. “You’re the one person who hasn’t tried to make me feel bad for it.”

She shrugs. “You’re in an awful situation and it might be because of him. You don’t have to have endless grace.”

“Any chance I can get you to stay in here with me instead of Spencer?” you ask.

She smiles. “I don’t think Gideon wants to stick the two of us in a house together. But I am gonna make sure we catch this guy.”

“These kinds of assholes go after vulnerable women because it gives them the attention they crave,” she continues. “They worm themselves into their lives and disrupt it all and it makes them feel powerful—you have to play to their whims.”

“Sounds like you have a lot of experience with this,” you murmur.

“I have a lot of experience putting away sick men,” Elle says. 

“Do you have any advice, then?” you ask weakly. 

“I’ve only been around you for a few hours, but I already know you’re better and stronger than whatever bastard is after you,” she says. “He wants to control your life. Don’t let him.” 

“Thank you,” you say quietly. “I’m… really glad you’re on my side.”

She smiles again. “Just doing my job.”

Your eyes latch onto your dad as he and Spencer come back around the front, and they both tuck their guns back into their holsters. 

“It’s all clear,” your dad says. 

“And I’m not dead,” you say. “Looks like we’re all doing good.”

He chooses to ignore you, instead looking at Elle. “Did you go over anything with her?” he asks.

She shakes her head. “Just gave some advice.”

“Great,” Spencer says. “Just what I need.”

“Oh, get over yourself, Reid,” Elle says. “You’ll be fine.” 

You don’t miss the look he gives her, and your dad clears his throat. “Can you take her inside and check everything? Reid and I need to talk.” 

He frowns. “We do?” 

“Sure,” she nods. 

You stare at your dad this time, and he doesn’t entertain your annoyance with some of his own. “We’ll be in soon.” 

“Sure,” you repeat. 

You follow Elle in—you don’t feel like getting a lecture on safety just yet—and when you pass a glance over your shoulder, you meet Spencer’s eyes. He was watching you. 

His eyes dart away just as quickly, and you huff the slightest laugh. You don’t know if he’s scared of you or just tired of you already, but whichever one, you don’t really care. If you have to be stuck in this house with him, he has to be stuck in there with you too.

Elle shows you around the place, and it’s nothing special—a one story house with two bedrooms and a noticeable lack of windows, furnished plainly with a couch and a few chairs, a small kitchen table, a television. You’re honestly surprised at how nice it all is. 

But as she takes you on the impromptu tour, you can’t stop thinking about her words. You can’t stop thinking about all of it, honestly. 

A month ago, you were driving home in silence after your dad forgot about the plans you made. A week ago, you were out for drinks with friends. 

Today, you’re hunkering down in a safe house because there’s a stalker after you, and you have to do it with your dad’s stand-in kid. 

That’s what gets you, you think. That you know more about Spencer Reid than anyone at his job knows about you—that your dad ignores you in favor of his work, and instead of trying to fit you into his life, he finds an FBI replacement.

Your jaw clenches. It takes a few seconds for you to realize you’ve completely tuned out Elle, only really coming out of it when she says your name.

“Sorry,” you say. “I was distracted.” 

“I don’t blame you,” she says wryly. 

You’re about to respond when Spencer walks in with your dad. His face is slightly flushed and, as opposed to all the other times, he won’t make eye contact with you. You can only imagine what your dad decided to talk to him about. 

“You showed her around?” your dad asks. 

Elle nods. “The basics. She and Reid can figure out the rest.” 

“Thank you,” he says. He looks at Spencer, who has his hands stuffed in his pockets and is very intently focused on the wall behind you. “Help Elle get the rest of the things out of her car.”

He frowns. “Elle doesn’t need my help.”

“Come on, Reid,” she says as she starts to walk. 

He blinks and nods. “Oh. Uh— yeah.” 

You feel his eyes on you as he goes, but you don’t meet them. You just stare at your father.

“Is it my turn for a lecture?”

His eyes soften as he says your name. “This isn’t how I want things to be between us.”

“Yeah, well,” you shrug, “it takes a decade or two of neglect to get here.”

“You’re right,” he says. “You wouldn’t be in this situation if it wasn’t for me. But I’m going to get you out of it.”

“I hope so,” you say. “Because I don’t really know how Doctor Reid is going to help.”

“Don’t take it out on Reid,” your dad says. “Hate me all you want, but leave him out of it.”

“You’re the one that pulled him into it,” you retort. “He’s more your kid than I am.”

“And I regret it,” he says. Your eyes widen a bit, and it actually gets you to shut up. “I regret that it took something like this for me to be a part of your life again. But I don’t want our last interaction before you’re sequestered for the indefinite future to be a fight.”

“That’s all I’m good at when it comes to you,” you mumble. The wind has been taken out of your sails considerably. 

“And I want to change that,” he says. “But first, we have to get through this. And we’re going to get through it together, sweetheart.” 

The term of affection feels strange coming from him. Ever since your teenage years, he’s felt less like your dad and more like some estranged cousin. You hate it. You hate how unfamiliar everything feels with him. Jason Gideon has been a profiler longer than he’s been a dad and it shows in your every interaction with him. 

But still, your heart aches. You bite the inside of your cheek.

“You promise?” you ask. You feel like a kid again. 

“I promise,” he says. 

Then your dad pulls you into a hug, and for a moment, you freeze. You can’t remember the last time he hugged you. 

Despite the anger inside of you, the bitterness built in your bones, you can’t help it—you hug him back. You practically melt into his arms as you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to stop the sudden threat of tears. 

Because deep down beneath it all, you’re scared. You’re fucking terrified, actually, and right now you’re just a girl who wants comfort from her dad. 

“I love you,” he says. 

“…I love you too,” you mumble.

Neither of you pull away for a good thirty seconds. When you do, you turn around to wipe your eyes, not wanting him to see. You hear the door open and start, but it’s just Spencer and Elle with some bags and boxes. 

“Elle’s got some groceries,” your dad says, clearing his throat. “We’ll deliver more if necessary, but you’ve got the basics for a couple weeks, at least.” 

“And a whole lot of books and movies,” Spencer says, hefting the box in his hands. “Did you know that there have been approximately 122 million unique titles published since the invention of Gutenberg’s printing press in 1440?” 

“That’s less specific than usual,” Elle says. “You sure you’re feeling okay?” 

He frowns. “I couldn’t find statistics on the exact number.” 

“Why were you even looking at those statistics?” 

“I get bored sometimes.” 

Elle just laughs as they continue into the living room. You feel your dad’s eyes on you, and you sigh. 

“I’ll take it easy on him,” you say. “Mostly. Maybe.” 

And he actually smiles. “Thank you.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you say offhandedly, but you find the slightest smile creeping on your lips as well. You kind of hate it. 

Everything else goes by relatively quickly now that you’re not arguing every single thing—you have to fight your instincts not to, but you manage—and eventually, after another lingering hug and some promises to be safe (and one from Spencer to your dad to keep you safe)—you’re alone in the house with him. 

“So,” you say as you settle on the couch, “this is what the indefinite future is going to be like.” 

“If it makes you feel better, last time we dealt with a stalker we caught them in a few days,” Spencer says. “She watched her for a good while, though.” 

“It doesn’t make me feel better,” you say. “Thanks.” 

“...Sorry.” 

You shrug your indifference and Spencer walks past you, focusing in on some of the paintings hanging on the wall. You’re sure he knows the artist, title, and meaning behind every single one, so you speak up before he can start.  

“What did you and Elle talk about?” 

“How this place doesn’t have a pool,” he says.  

You frown. “What?” 

“Nothing,” he says quickly. “What’d you and Gideon talk about?”

“We fought then made up,” you say. “It was… weird.” 

Spencer looks at you. “How?” 

You shrug again as you cross your arms. “You’ve seen how we are. We don’t exactly get along.” 

“Has he really been that bad of a dad?”

“It’s none of your business,” you say. “But… yes. He’s barely been a dad at all.” 

Spencer shakes his head. “I don’t get that. He’s so different in the field.” 

“That’s why he’s barely been a dad—because he’s so busy here.” You tilt your head. “Don’t you have some facts or whatever on the percentage of fathers that are workaholics?” 

“Well, 89% of dads work full time,” Spencer says. “And fathers typically work around 47 hours a week. But I don’t have anything on workaholics specifically.” 

“Great.” You stand up and walk over to the box of DVDs Spencer set down on the table, and you start rifling through them. “So, what’d my dad tell you about me?” 

Spencer blinks. “What do you mean?” 

“When I came in here with Elle and he kept you out there,” you say. “Did he give you the run-down? Warn you on how difficult I am to be around? Tell you that I hate you?” 

His Adam’s apple bobs. “Uh— no. He just… talked to me. Gave the rundown on everything.”

You hum. “You can tell the truth.” 

“I— I am,” he says. He’s clearly not. “He didn’t say anything bad about you. Promise.” 

“Whatever you say.” You land on a DVD and glance over at him. “How do you feel about Groundhog Day?” 

He shakes his head. “I don’t like Bill Murray.” 

You frown. “That’s ridiculous. How can you not like Ghostbusters?” 

“I love Ghostbusters.” 

“How can you like Ghostbusters but not Bill Murray?” 

“Because I like the concept more than I like him,” he says. “I love Halloween.” 

You shake your head and move on. “Who put these together?”

“I don’t know. Maybe Gideon? Or maybe some random BAU office worker.” 

“It’s an interesting compilation.” You look up at him again. “How about Dirty Dancing?” 

“No.” 

“No reasoning?”

“I don’t feel like dealing with a musical right now,” he says. 

“So you choose to deprive me of Patrick Swayze,” you tut. You grab one movie out of the back and hold it up. “If I put on Goodfellas, will you interrupt every five seconds with facts?”

“...I can push it back to every thirty seconds,” he says. 

“Five minutes,” you say. 

“One minute.” 

“Two.” 

“One forty-five?” 

“Two—take it or leave it.” 

“Technically I have all the power here,” Spencer says. “I can talk nonstop about anything. Putting down a movie narrows that down.” 

“...One fifty.” 

He nods, and you huff a disbelieving laugh as you put the DVD in the player. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re ridiculous?” 

“A lot,” he says as he sits down on the couch. “I usually get insufferable or weird or annoying, though. So ridiculous isn’t too bad.” 

“Well, you’re certainly something.” 

“That’s also not too bad,” he says. “I could even take it as a compliment.”

You sigh and pick up the remote before you sit back down. You look up at the clock on the wall and bite back a curse. 

“It’s only been ten minutes,” you mutter. 

“Ten minutes and thirty-four seconds, actually,” Spencer says. “Did you know that Scorsese actually cast real mobsters as extras? The cast members were told ahead of time so they could show the necessary respect to them while they were on set. There’s a whole mafia hierarchy, and only full-blooded Italians—”

“I haven’t even gotten to the start screen,” you interrupt in disbelief. 

Spencer shrugs. “You said every minute and fifty seconds. Not how long I could go on for.” 

You let out another sigh as he continues on. You bet Spencer could probably recite the whole movie from memory if you asked, but you honestly don’t know if you could take that. 

There’s one plus, at least. When you’ve got a human encyclopedia next to you that can spout off whatever information he wants any time he wants, you think you’re gonna have a hard time thinking too much about your stalker. 

You look over at Spencer when you finally make it to the opening scene, still talking but now about the different crime families in the United States. His eyebrows are surprisingly animated when he talks, going up and down depending on his inflection, and you find yourself thinking that it’s charming. 

It’s annoying how pretty he is, and it’s annoying how annoying he is. 

You look away. 

This is going to be a very long lockdown.

[nymphea0]

Kurkans Mate .

Mine and yours.

Yan! Ishakan x reader

(Special Chapter)

Warning : Mature content! Before you read this, make sure you are old enough, children and minors are prohibited from reading this story chapter.

Manhwa :약탈혼 / predatory marriage

/ 약탈혼 (완전판)

: Adult Manhwa (18+)

Author/Illustrations : Saha / Hera(Art)

Word count : 2.86 word

Hello, this is Neva, at your service. So glad all Ishakan series are complete. This is a special chapter that I updated especially for Tumblr readers who may not have WP. Because I'm sure some of my dears may not have WP. So, this is a special chapter for Ishakan series. Next project wss supernatural series. A monsters, i hope you all will like it this project as well:)

I added some POV characters here, which I didn't write in the WP special chapter. So, enjoy, my dears, lots of love- Neva🦋🦋 .

Might have some bad grammars, correct me if there are any mistakes in the words in the story I wrote. Anyways i hope you all enjoys my story,love.- Neva🦋🦋

Kurkans Mate Pt. 1

Kurkans Mate Pt. 2

Kurkans Mate Pt. 3

Kurkans Mate Pt. 4

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Ishakan stared at you full of love and lust, but he had to restrain himself!.

Leading you slowly towards the sofa that had a small table, gently pouring a typical Kurkans drink, 1 glass. Ishakan drank it first, then he gave it to you, he could feel you were hesitant to drink it! .

Ohh how cute his wife is! So innocent and gentle! Never even drank wine!.

You spent that night talking to Ishakan, to understand each other, to be open to each other because you are husband and wife now.

Ishakan even apologized to you, he didn't mean to kidnap or hurt Esmera, but his beast instinct said otherwise, Ishakan had even renovated Esmera's hut, even Esmera came to the wedding!.

Even though you didn't meet, Esmera did come to see in the form of an owl, happy at least you were safe in the hands of the Kurkans, Esmera had been watching from afar, anticipating that if the Kurkans treated you badly, then she would take you back by force.

It turns out that Ishakan is not as bad as you thought, he is an understanding man, he doesn't care whether you can get pregnant or not, because Ishakan brought you into his life to love you and spend his life until old age waiting as his partner, his wife.

With a position facing each other you are currently on the balcony.

Ishakan looks at you lovingly, the moon is full in the sky, his heart is beating fast.

Ishakan cups your cheeks with his hands, stroking them gently with his thumbs.

"You are my world, I will never be afraid of losing or fear, as long as you are by my side and live together by my side until the end of my life, my Mate, I love you"

Tilted his head slowly, Ishakan kissed you, crushed it gently, carefully, the sound of your kisses filled the bedroom balcony.

Ishakan's hand easily pulled you to his side closer, deepening your kiss, eroding the distance between you, one of his hands was around your nape, his lips and tongue were busy tasting your lips and tongue, taking notes of every content of your mouth.

His other hand was on your waist, stroking and squeezing softly making you moan softly, only making him more aroused.

With one movement of his hand, Ishakan lifted and carried you into the room without breaking the kiss between the two of you.

Dropping you gently, Ishakan saw you under him, panting, face red and out of breath, lips swollen from his kiss.

Opening his wedding dress, showing his chest and body that were perfect for a king.

Ishakan kissed you again, biting your lower lip softly, making you moan softly, his tongue dancing and claiming yours.

His hands did not stay still, placing both of your hands above your head held with one of his left hands, his right hand, moving to stroke from your cheeks, neck, collarbone, the center line between your chest.

Teasingly stroking the line of your stomach that made you moan softly. smirking softly, knowing that you were sensitive all over your body, his hands went down to the lower part of your body.

Pulling up your red dress slowly, showing your legs and thighs, pulling them straight with his hands, kissing your ankles softly.

Lowering himself from the ankles to along the knees, biting your thighs, your knees leaning on his shoulders, leaving bite marks on your soft thighs, Ishakan got closer, until he was right in front of your core, wet and full of the scent of passion!

He had to hold himself back, it wasn't time for him to be brutal, not yet.

Pulling with his two fingers, Ishakan sensually opened your panties, showing your core completely without any clothes on there.

You who are embarrassed try to cover it! But unfortunately Ishakan holds both your hands.

Spreading your legs, your face turns red with embarrassment.

Looking at you, Ishakan just smirks and breathes into your core, which makes you sigh stifled.

Sticking out his tongue, Ishakan tastes your core, which makes you sigh unable to hold back anymore, you are very sensitive just from his kiss before, you have never felt anything like this!

Ishakan's tongue moves skillfully, from the middle to the core of your clit, sucking, licking, feeling, even widening your core.

You can't think clearly just your tongue but it has made you lose your mind.

Your hand that Ishakan has released, is around his hair, sighing, gasping for breath, Ishakan's other hand also doesn't stay still, his hand is busy scooping, squeezing, playing with your right chest, tearing with just one pull of your top dress.

Making you naked showing your chest, his hands are busy twisting and squeezing.

Your moans are getting louder indicating that you will come soon.

When you are about to come, Ishakan replaces it with his finger, making you increasingly losing his mind and moaning more and more.

"Take it out honey, come on, you can, smear my finger with your essence loves, come on my rabbit~"

Pulling and inserting his finger quickly, you come for the first time in your life!

Moaning almost screaming, eyes unable to open wide, biting your lower lip slowly.

For Ishakan this sight is very beautiful, very sexy and exciting, only him, only Ishakan can make you like this.

Growling primally, Ishakan forcibly pulls your lower dress, making you naked, so exposed to his eyes.

Ishakan then brings his finger filled with your love fluid to his mouth, sucking and tasting it.

You who stare at it can only be embarrassed, he looks at you with full primal!.

Your legs are spread wide, Ishakan opens his pants.

He's big, very big! Does it even fit?!.

"Isha... it doesn't seem to fit... this is my first time"

Ishakan just laughed in amusement seeing your worried expression, kissing your lips softly, Ishakan distracted your thoughts.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure you'll be okay"

His kiss went down to your neck, sucking and biting it on the right and left, leaving love bite marks on your neck.

His kiss went down to your shoulder, biting gently then to your collarbone, then to your chest, kissing gently, then putting your nipple into his mouth, sucking greedily, his other hand didn't stay still, giving the same attention to your chest that he sucked, his fingers twisting, pulling and squeezing your chest.

Moaning was the only thing you could do because of Ishakan's actions on your body.

Ishakan's hand then went down to spread your legs, with a gentle push, inserting himself, uniting with you.

You who were doing it for the first time, of course screamed in pain considering Ishakan who was also very big. Ishakan kissed your lips and neck, to ease your pain. It worked.

Slowly, the sound in the room that the two of you would use in the future, was filled with the sound of love, passion, and lust. The sound of skin slapping was very clear, Ishakan's sighs, and growls blended with the atmosphere full of the first night.

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You're not sure how many hours or maybe days it's been? You can only be busy moaning, groaning and following Ishakan's direction.

While Ishakan? That man, your husband is busy moaning in your ear, moaning vulgarly and shamelessly in your ear.

His hands are busy playing with your breasts and hips, while his own hips? Busy moving back and forth, the point is entering your core.

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Those 5 days, you were slaughtered by Ishakan, unable to hold back anymore, on the 5th day, you fell unconscious, while Ishakan? That man just chuckled and cleaned your body.

It's just a matter of time for Ishakan, he will soon become a father, and so will you, become a mother.

Blood union Between the Antrabeth and Kurkans tribes, two tribes that are above the other races.

This is not a dark or light story, but this story is about how Ishakan, can convince his mate, even by kidnapping which for some people is an abnormality, but this is the Kurkans we are talking about, normality never exists in that tribe.

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'The sound of a closed book'

In the garden a woman with blue hair, sits in a pavilion scattered with small fish ponds, with a pavilion podium studded with gold and high-quality wood, beautiful fabrics fall from each ceiling of the pavilion, creating a beautiful illusion, covering the outside view to see into the pavilion.

A small boy sits on the woman's lap, while a tall man is next to the woman holding a girl.

The woman had just read a story about "History Of Kurkans Mate"

"So how's the history? Are you not curious anymore again?"

The woman asked the two children who were of different genders, but with similar proportions, twins, the two children had the same blue hair as the woman, while their skin followed the color of the man sitting beside the woman.

The two twins just smiled and nodded before standing up and running to play with each other in the garden field right in front of the pavilion.

The man, put one arm around the woman's waist.

"The twins are big now, I think it's time we gave them a sibling, how about that my rabbit?"

Kissing the woman's cheek affectionately, while the Eve just blushed!.

"Ishakan?! Twins are only 7 years old! Not yet! I refuse!"

You've been together for more than 7 years, and the woman is you, you slap Ishakan's arm lightly, your husband.

"Oh my dear, it seems you have forgotten that, the Kurkans have never known the concept of refusing, the word no, refusal or disagreement"

Ishakan stood with you in his arms actually, bridal style! Those of you who are embarrassed, only can just cover your faces with your hands, you feel very embarrassed because the Servants and Sholdier/Knight are looking at you.

In the Kurkans palace, a desert surrounded by a large oasis, the Kurkans Kingdom thrived under the leadership of King Ishakan Kurkans, the best king in the history of Kurkans, with his mate who was also the best in history, there was no slavery, discrimination, racism or rebellion. There is only peace, happiness from one end of the kingdom to the other end of the kingdom of Kurkans.

For people who have visited Ishakan Kingdom, there are only a few things that those who have been there will say.

"It feels like the kingdom is like a myth"

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On the other side of the desert continent of the Kurkans, there are several kingdoms that are also developing rapidly, one of which is the Estia kingdom.

Led directly by Queen Leah de Estia, a beautiful woman with a face like the moon. Anyone would fall in love seeing her so beautiful, perfect, almost like an angel falling from the sky.

One of the people who fell in love with her was none other than Leah's half brother. Bléon de Estia.

The man was crazy, of course , a sick and very twisted obsession. After the ambush and capture of the queen of Estia, Serdine.

Leah saw with her own eyes how Ishakan and some of the Estia courtiers burned Serdine. While Bléon, the man looked at Ishakan with envy. Nothing more and nothing less, thinking that Ishakan will take Leah from her.

Crazy about it, Bleon said to Ishakan.

"I have defiled the woman you are going to take, take her! Take the used goods that I have touched and play with them as you please, you savage monster!"

Right after the sentence was uttered, a head flew right in front of leah's eyes. Bléon's floating head flew and fell rolling and stopped right in front of her feet.

That night, Leah would never forget how Ishakan had saved her. And also the kingdom of Estia.

Leah sent a proposal, hoping that the kingdom of Estia and the Kurkans could become one.

But unfortunately, the proposal was rejected. Because it turned out that the king of the Kurkans himself already had someone to be proposed to.

On the wedding day of the king of the kurkans, where leah came as one of the honored guests, that's where she found out why ishakan rejected her proposal.

Herself as a woman if given the opportunity as a man, she might do the same thing as ishakan did. Kidnap that woman. For Leah, just by looking at her once she knew very well, the woman who was right in front of Ishakan, had made Ishakan, the barbarian kurkans, kneel. Very beautiful, small and fragile. Of course, Leah who did not have any special lines in her blood, more than knowing not to go any further to be with ishakan.

A woman from the Atrabeth tribe, the lover of nature. Of course leah knows for sure.

The two tribal myths are united in a soul bond.

For Leah, the story of Ishakan and the woman, the lover of nature from the Antrabeth tribe, felt very unreal.

As if they were just a myth.

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The End.

©️Nymphea0 2024 ,OG story, Project Dark Manhwa Character Series.

Tag list; @snowflakes666 @nerdygoateepeanut @blurryperrtymoonlight @luminethebest @scenicelixir @n4muqr @cannyyyyy @athena-roy @sirenetheblogger @rai-xxx @thehopingfairy @ryusooze @yaoduriaa @merveeeeesworld

Please dont steal my work, or use without my permissions, always be good people Dear. Much love, Neva🦋🦋.

[criibibi]

Synopsis: After losing so much, Spider-woman learns to just keep moving. Only for her to end up somewhere far from home. Her first agenda is figuring out where she is, and how to get back. The only problem is that she ended up somewhere fictional (to her). Playing hero with Batman was not in her bingo cards this year. Hopefully she will be able to make it back home before she catches unwanted attention.

Masterlist: Prev; Next;

Chapter 1 - Home Sick

Okay, let’s start this from the top. Once upon a time and all that shit.

You had somehow, some way, ended up stranded in another universe when you were going toe-to-toe with the Spot that (unfortunately) Mile’s apparently created (unintentionally). Got it? Good.

Now the question is how you got stranded in another universe while fighting the Spot is another shebang that you do not know, and frankly, not your top priority as of right now.

Your mission is finding a way to power your web-watch (no offense but the gizmo name sucks), and either use it to find Miguel, the spider-society, or your very own earth. You honestly weren’t choosy on which option you land, as long as you safely made it out alive and unscathed. 

Speaking of unscathed, which in fact you are not, you quietly swung across many buildings, in the shadows, making sure you were hard to spot. Your dark spider suit being perfect for night patrol is a blessing for the camouflage it provides you in this god forsaken gloomy city.

Now, to get back on track, it took you an embarrassing amount of time to process that you have basically been thrown into a world where in your universe is all but fiction. 

Have you kept up with the comics?

No, of course not. After Aunt May’s passing, you honestly gave up everything and just solely dedicated yourself into fighting crime. Well, you know some things, since Peter was also a mega comic nerd.

He would go on for hours and hours and hours about Batman and his kids (adopted and biological) and whatnot. You didn’t mind, since spending time with a talkative Peter was better than being in your own headspace. If you recall the latest one to come under Batman’s wing was someone named Duke? Well, that’s as far as you remember. 

Regardless, now you're looting someone’s clothing wire. Picking out a thick gray turtleneck and black leggings (thank god) you don them over your suit, making sure nothing was visible. Now the issue is your footwear. Maybe you can get away with it? 

Taking off the mask you were able to stuff it inside your bra (extra pocket, am I right?) while your gloves were hidden among your sleeves. Making sure nothing was out of place you pulled out the wallets of the two petty criminals, counting the money.

“Four-fifty, not bad.” Though you don’t condone your actions, you are in a precarious situation at the moment. Oh well. Tossing one of the wallets away (making sure not to touch it with your fingers), you also placed it inside your bra for safe keeping.

Maybe this would be enough for a motel? How expensive- or cheap are those in Gotham? With how often crimes occur, it shouldn’t be that expensive, right? Regardless, first things first, find a place to eat, find out the date and then a place to stay. Shouldn't be too hard.

Quietly climbing down the side of a complex building, you made sure the coast was clear before heading out. The lack of a jacket made you feel very vulnerable and exposed. Head down and hands to your sides, the cool breeze of the city causes shivers down your spine. “This fucking sucks.” you mumbled, making sure to avoid gothamites as much as possible. 

No time to gawk at your environment when you’re so out of place. You honestly just kept walking around, hearing police sirens and the occasional cop car driving by while you try to not lose your goddamn mind.

Walking around, using back streets and alleys you shiver as the cold nips at your face. It’s not that you’re sensitive to cold, it’s just that you can’t afford to get sick here. In a world where you don’t exist.

“Wait a minute…” thinking back on something, it’s true that you don’t exist here. But that doesn’t mean that a you- doesn’t exist. Maybe somehow there is a version of you or spider-woman here. A far reach but hey, just hours ago, this was all fictional to you. But something worth looking into. 

With a heavy sigh you walk inside an alley, looking up to gauge the time to see- oh, what’s that? Another clothing line! And guess what? It has more clothes to loot! Score! Don’t mind if I do! Finders keepers baby!

And you thought your spider luck was ass.

Discreetly looking around to see for any cameras that can potentially identify you only to come out flat. Perfect. Using the fire escape you parkour to snag a black oversized zip up sweater. 

This would be perfect in covering you even further (and now you have pockets for your mask) and making your figure harder to identify. Now you can start acting like a true gothamite.

With a pep in your step, you exit the alleyway.

Spotting a diner up ahead, settling yourself inside you order your drink of choice and a bagel just to have something to entertain yourself while you calm your nerves.

Sitting down next to a window, taking slow sips and bites from your meal you subtly look around (making a point of subtly ignoring the gaze of the cashier). It seems to be late afternoon, heading to night. Not good, not good at all. 

Besides finding a place to stay, you glance at your wrist, the web watch looking pretty obvious and suspicious out there in the open on your wrist. But, without it, you could perish in this foreign world. Should you pull a Hobie Brown and create a new watch from scratch? No, you don’t have the time, tools, or luxury. Thank god for the hoodie covering it up.

Right now, staying on task is essential. A job, maybe? With what credentials? Hell, you don’t even have an ID. Maybe a fake one? Who would do such a thing for a reasonable price and isn’t a criminal? Another note, you need supplies, enough to build web shooters and the cartridge. Unlike other spiders, you had the ability to shoot webs from your wrist, gross. But (with Peter’s intellect) you ended up also creating webs on your own in case yours fails. And it has- a lot both in comical and crucial times. Peter wouldn’t let you live anything down (god you miss him).

And being in a new world and everything going on, the last thing you need is a web block because of the high anxiety and stress this place is already giving you. You’d rather be safe than sorry. Now, how to get supplies? Stealing them seems easier than working for it. You just don’t have the time. How were you going to steal them, and from where? Who the fuck knows. Probably from a college science room or something.

In order to do even that, you need to find out the layout and what not of this place. So maybe the best place to start is the library? Doesn’t someone from Batman’s little possie work at the library? Can you risk that? Probably.

Fuck, this was going to be harder than it looks. No phone, basically no money (not counting the one you stole from criminals), no ID (or insurance), no place to stay, no allies, ya got nothing. Zip, zero, nada. 

You feel so lost and alone, so vulnerable. And the thoughts in your head are slowly getting louder and louder. Eating away at your insecurities and feelings. God, you’re starting to get homesick. Will you make it back? Will you find a way back home? Is anyone even looking for you?

Last thing you recall was fighting the Spot with Miles, Hobie, Gwen and Pavitr. You remember hopping onto Spot’s back while he was absorbing but then he poof and you along with him. Everything went black for you and then you landed here in this city (ungracefully might I add).

You just want to go home…even if it’s lonely without Uncle Ben, Aunt May and Peter Parker.

You really have nothing, rock bottom, baby. But then again, the only place to go is up, right? 

Sighing you finished your drink and bagel before leaving the diner, making sure to look at the clock above the exit, and aimlessly walking around. Would they let you in one of those shelters? Are those even a thing? Probably, maybe. 

Couldn’t hurt to try. Buuuuut, then again, you need the privacy, so maybe the shelter was a no go. Okay, perfect, back to square fucking zero. A cheap and possibly dangerous motel it is!

Hopefully your spider luck doesn’t fuck you over. You’re honestly thankful for not coming across any batsonas and whatnot. And you were able to get clothes so you say you’re two for two.

After looking around for some time, emphasis on some, you managed to find a motel and get yourself settled. No ID required, just cash, and you internally sobbed at the remaining funds you had left. You really will need a job or a sustainable income.

“Are underground rings still a thing? Is it a thing here?” You mumbled, discarding your stolen clothes before fiddling with your watch until its screen flashes before abruptly turning dark again. “Well now, how fucked am I?” A deep sigh resonated in the empty room. Hopefully while it turned on, Miguel would somehow by some god given miracle (or your spider luck but don’t bank on it) that he received at least a signal, no matter how microscopic it is.

You had to get home. At all costs. This place isn’t your home. It’s not like you should play by the rules. But, Ben, May, and Peter would be so disappointed in you if you break laws just to return to your home universe. And if you’re being truthful, it wouldn’t sit right with you either…

But Miles needs you. 

If this world doesn’t have a- you in it, then you aren’t needed here. So you shouldn’t waste time twiddling your thumbs. Maybe you really do need to break into a computer lab to see what’s up with your watch or scavenge for parts. Hobie built it with parts from Miguel’s earth. Meaning, you can too, with whatever scraps you can find.

You’ll prioritize your watch first, then this city. It’s unfortunate, but you really have to get back home, and you can’t let your feelings get in the way and distract you.

Maybe you should call it a night? Figure things out in the morning? A yawn takes over your thoughts. “Yea, sleep sounds really good right now.” 

These problems are for tomorrow’s you. For now, you’ll catch some Zzz’s and flesh out a detailed plan on how to get back home. 

You’re banking on hacking a computer at the library despite the risks. Shooting a web at the door to prevent any possible and/or unwanted inconveniences because let’s be honest, trust no one but yourself, especially in this bat(ha)shit crazy world, better to be safe than sorry. You need your sanity to fix or at least charge your watch in order to get back home.

“Ben, May, Peter- give me strength.” and into dreamland you go.

-

“Hey B, come look at this.” A female voice spoke out, catching the attention of the adult in the cave. “I got something to show you. I got a trace of a disruption- but it happened quickly and only once.”

“Where.” A gruff and stern voice asked.

“Around the East End.”

“I’ll let Selina know.”

“Should I get someone to look into it?”

“No, I’ll do it myself.”

With that, silence once again enveloped the Bat cave as Batman stepped out.

Prev; Next;

I'll be honest, I have no outline of where I want this story to go, this is just brainrot hour for me. Less go. A very high chance this will soon turn into somewhat of "yandere" but it's mostly just them being "possessive" honestly. Slooow burn. This was the last thing i had typed up, and I have no clue where I will drive this story, oops.