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letsbangts · 1 day ago

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answer your phone || jjk

⤷ summary: when the consequences of his actions come calling

⟡ sequel to mutt ⟡

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ word count: 12.8k+ (I couldn’t stop 😳)

18+ // mdni

⟶ genre: angst, smut, fluff, friends with benefits au

⟶ content: fuckboy!jk, tattooartist!jk, jk is on a downward spiral (it's what he deserves), oc is struggling as well, taehyung is the shoulder to lean on everyone deserves

⟶ warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content: kissing/making out, groping, protected sex, nipple play, oral (m. & f. receiving), markings (hickeys & other bruising), a bit of dirty talk & praising, fingering, teasing, multiple orgasms…I think that’s it?

↬ a/n: HERE IT IS MUTT PT 2! firstly I want to say thank you for all the love & support i received on pt 1 it truly meant so much to me ♡ OKAY so you all wanted #justiceforoc and to see jk grovel so the tables have definitely turned on him ;). angel xoxo

↬ a/n2: p.s the flashbacks are indicated by the arrows (《,》)

˖⁺. ༶ NOW PLAYING ༶ .⁺˖ answer your phone leon thomas 01:43 ─✮───── 03:07 ⇆ ⊲ II ⊳ ↺ ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮

masterlist

Answer your phone I've got to talk to you

Jungkook is sitting on his couch with a girl's lips all over his neck and her hands all over his body, but his eyes are fixed on his cell phone lying on the coffee table. Instead of focusing on how her tongue is licking at his throat or how her hands grope him through his pants, he can only focus on you.

He stares at the phone that won't ring, at least not with you on the other end. It has been over a month since you stormed out of his place. At first, he left you alone and didn't try to reach out because he thought you needed to cool off. Jungkook has dealt with this hot and cold shit with others before; he knows they’ll be back eventually, whether he makes any effort or not. And it’s so much easier not to. But he has been calling you for weeks now with no success.

This past month, Jungkook has been with a handful of women, hoping to feel something, but he hasn't. Not even with the aid of an empty bottle or a joint— and he's certainly had plenty of both— nothing makes him feel as good as you do. Whether it's getting his dick sucked by any of the random women he’s taken into the bathroom of a club or bending one over in the backseat of his car in the parking lot of the tattoo studio, getting on top of someone else to distract him from you hasn’t helped as he thought it would.

Even though the girl with him right now is attractive, with a nice body and a skilful set of hands, he is trapped in his thoughts. He’s annoyed that her lips don't send tingles down his body like yours do, that her hands aren't as soft as your own and that she doesn't have her fingers running through his hair the way you do.

He misses you.

He pries the girl's hands off him and pushes her back as he lets out a deep sigh. She looks at him with a confused expression.

Jungkook licks his lips and, without looking at her, says, "I think we better stop; you should go."

The girl attempts a seductive smile as she moves to unbuckle his belt.

"Stop? We haven't even started anything. Come on, I'll make you feel good, big boy."

Jungkook rips her hands off of his belt, he rubs his hands over his face in frustration.

"Look, I'm just not feeling this, okay?" he says exasperated.

The girl's face drops and her whole demeanour changes.

"Are you fucking serious, Jungkook? Not feeling this? Can you not get it up or something? Is your dick really that pathetic?" she snarks, her eyes scanning him up and down.

He gives her a pointed look with his pierced eyebrow raised as he rolls his tongue against the inside of his cheek and chuckles bitterly. He shakes his head, sniffs, and sits up straighter.

"Okay, listen here, Emilia—"

"It's Emily!"

"Whatever the fuck your name is, I don't care. I tried to be nice about this, but if you want to provoke me, that's fine. You're right; I can't get it up because I can't even pretend for a goddamn moment that you turn me on, not even in the slightest, so get your ass out of my fucking house," he sneers through clenched teeth.

Right after Jungkook finished speaking, he felt a sting on his cheek. The response to his words was a sharp slap to his face and, once again, another upset girl storming out of his place, slamming the door behind her.

Jungkook shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath through his nose. A metallic taste begins to form in his mouth; he must have bitten the inside of his cheek on impact. He rises to his feet and walks to the bathroom. He leans over the sink, gripping the porcelain edge as he spits out blood. Jungkook stares at himself in the mirror and runs a hand over his reddened cheek, marked with a fresh cut from the girl's ring-clad hand.

He isn't bothered that the girl is upset because he doesn't care about her. Jungkook couldn't care less about whether he was an asshole to Emma; all he cares about is you and how he needs to talk to you.

Answer your phone Give me a minute, please Has your heart turned to stone? Have you no sympathy?

He has texted and called you an embarrassing number of times, waiting with every ring to see if you'd pick up so that he could hear your sweet voice. And he does, but only when he's met with your voicemail — "Hey, this is Y/N. Sorry, I missed your call. Please leave me a message, and I will get back to you as soon as possible. Thanks!"— which is a lie because you never do. Still, he leaves voice messages, hoping you will listen to them and call him back. He hopes that with every call, his persistence will make you curious enough to answer and talk to him—even if only for a minute.

Jungkook turns on the tap and washes his face; the cool water momentarily clears his head. However, once he raises his head and looks at his reflection again, his fringe drips with water, droplets falling onto his shirt. He is overwhelmed by the thought of you all over again.

He knows you can't be too mad at him because you haven't blocked him—not his number or on social media. This is how he knows you're not that hung up on what happened since he sees you posting, whether casually going out for coffee or all dressed up to go party with your friends; regardless, in all of them, you look stunningly beautiful.

This makes him miss you even more and makes him unsure if blocking him might have been better since Jungkook has seen some guys in your posts and noticed how they sometimes have an arm around you or how you lean in a little bit too close to them for his liking. He wonders if they are just friends; even if they are, he's sure they want to be more. Have they tried anything with you? Are you dressing up like that for one of those guys? Are you trying to move on with one of them? Is that the reason you're ignoring him?

The thought alone of you with someone else drives him crazy, but having to see you with some guy who probably doesn't even know you that well makes him furious. Jungkook knows you better than any one of those chumps could, yet they get to be around you while he is stuck looking at your angelic face beside some happy idiot through a screen like a loser.

Jungkook bets none of those guys know that you hum while getting ready, don't know that when you're in the car while it's raining you turn off the radio to listen to it fall, don't know that you can't sleep wearing pants or socks, don't know that you hate drinking room temperature water, don't know that you do this adorable little happy dance when you really like the food you're eating, and bets they don't know that the guy who put that tattoo on your hip has fucked you every way under the sun.

Shit. He misses you.

Misses how you would thread your fingers through his hair, scratching softly at his scalp while he had his head in your lap as you both watched TV, misses how you would listen to him complain about a client while you fiddled with his earring but with such attentive eyes that showed you were paying attention, misses how you would scrunch your nose and blush when he made a flirty comment, misses how you would somehow take the pressure of the day off him simply by hugging him.

Why won't you answer? Why won't you give him a proper chance to explain himself and apologize? Did all your feelings for him vanish; has your heart just turned to stone? Don't you see how hard he's trying? Don't you have any sympathy for him?

Upon realizing that his teeth are grinding together and his fists are clenched so tightly that his knuckles have turned white, he pulls himself together, relaxing all his muscles, and heads back to the living room with determination.

Jungkook grabs his phone off the coffee table before sitting on his couch. With his elbows resting on his knees, he goes to his call log filled with your name and presses it, lifting the phone to his ear as he listens to the ringing for the umpteenth time.

I know I fucked this up I know I let you down But I've suffered long enough And you're still not around

He bites his nails while tapping his foot anxiously; he concentrates on what seems like endless ringing. His eyes glance at the clock. You should be home from work by this time, he thinks. When your voice finally comes through—voicemail, of course. Jungkook didn't honestly expect anything else.

He leans back, tips his head back against the backrest, and shuts his eyes for a second, trying to keep up with the rapid pace of his thoughts, and when he hears the beep of the answering machine, all those thoughts spill out of his mouth.

I know I don't deserve it But please have some mercy 'Cause I just might die if you don't

Y/N POV

You hold your buzzing phone in your hand and watch as the screen dims once it's finished, only to light up a few seconds later with a notification about a voicemail.

You hit on the notification and bring your phone to your ear, you bite your lip when you hear the deep voice of the man you've been keeping at bay.

"Hey Y/N, I don't know if you even listen to my messages anymore or if you ever did, but I'm not going to give up. I'm sorry, I know I fucked up and I know I let you down, but—fuck, Y/N, I miss you so goddamn much. It feels like I've been suffering for so long like there is this knife that's buried in my chest and keeps twisting the more time you're not around. I know I don't deserve it, but please have some mercy and answer me. Fucking shout at me and curse me out. Answer me and don't say anything— stay silent if you want, but just answer me, please. I need to hear your voice, or see you, something—anything, because this is beginning to feel like a slow, painful death."

You sigh as you lower the phone from your ear, swallowing the lump in your throat. You've never heard his voice so shaky; you've never experienced Jungkook being anything but confident.

Jungkook has been persistent in reaching out, and you have told yourself you must be just as persistent in your resolve not to answer. This past month has been devoid of any trace of him, but just because he hurt you doesn't mean all your feelings for him have vanished. It's been hard on you; many times your thumb has hovered over the accept button when he called, but by the time you contemplate it, the call has already gone to voicemail.

Regarding that night, you have calmed down significantly since leaving his place feeling angry and upset. You have thought it over countless times, and although you still don't condone what he did, you genuinely believe he didn't act with ill intent. You just expected more from him; he always told you how it was different with you, that you meant more to him than anyone else. Only to then treat you like any other one of his insignificant flings. It made you question if you were so whipped for him that you failed to see he viewed you as a girl easy to fool. But you know Jungkook is more than just that one night; he may have disappointed you, but there have been many times he hasn't.

You have ignored every attempt he made to communicate with you; yet, you haven't blocked him on anything—it feels too final. Instead, you have been keeping yourself occupied. When you're not working, you've been going out with friends, reminding yourself of who you were before Jungkook. Of course, you didn't completely ignore your friends when he came into your life, but he did take up a big part of your free time.

They knew about him as well; while they may not have known all the dirty details of your relationship, they did know that you spent a lot of time with him and enjoyed doing so. And if you were happy, so were they. So when you replied in the group chat that you'd be joining them for a night out, they were shocked but didn't ask any questions. They were excited to have the gang together and didn't hesitate to ensure you had a good time.

Usually, you'd spend your weekends with Jungkook since you both were off then. You would be tangled in his sheets, a sweaty mess put in various positions inducing multiple orgasms. You had forgotten the thrill of being in the middle of a crowded dance floor, sweat rolling down your body from the heat of so many bodies so close together. Throwing back countless shots, you and your friends could barely dance in your heels and tight dresses without stumbling over.

You'd also forgotten how much male attention you receive when going out and mingling with new people. Although there are still many creeps around—for whom you had to get your guy friends to come to your rescue—sometimes there would be someone who seemed harmless enough to flirt with, but then you would remember a certain doe-eyed, dimpled-smiled man and would turn them down.

One time, when you had used your friend Taehyung as an escape from an otherwise seemingly good guy, pulling him behind you and wrapping his arms around your dancing figure for protection, he asked you why you didn't go for it. That was when you opened up and told him the full story about you and Jungkook. Taehyung has been a caring and understanding person for as long as you have known him, and he empathized with you when you explained your feelings and complicated situationship.

Since that night, he has been your confidant, your shoulder to lean on. He has witnessed firsthand how this month has not been easy for you, no matter how much you tried to forget about your fuck buddy/friend. After hearing about the detailed story of the last night you spent with Jungkook, he has been vocal about how you deserve someone who wants to be with only you and that you are more than enough. Yet, he never judges you and understands that you know a different side of Jungkook.

You know the Jungkook who moved all the mugs to the lowest shelf in his cupboard so that you could reach them, the Jungkook who sings loudly in the shower, the Jungkook who when he first falls asleep starts twitching with a cute, peaceful smile on his face.

You miss him.

You've passed the tattoo studio on your way home, stared at that flashing neon-red sign, and thought how all it would take to see him is for you to step through that door; if you just walked in and talked to him, maybe everything could turn around in your favour. You both could patch things up and be happy. You could be together.

You've looked through that window from afar, hoping to catch sight of the pierced, tattoo-covered man, reminiscing about when you were on the other side with him.

✧ ──── 《《 ──── ✧

The bell of his studio dings, signalling your entry. At the counter stands the pierced, tattoo-covered man you came for. He looks up from the book with his scheduled appointments, and when his eyes land on you, he flashes you that big, dimpled smile, the corners of his tired eyes crinkling in delight.

"Hey, baby. I wasn't expecting you. What are you doing here so late?"

He drops his pen onto the book and rounds the counter, meeting you halfway. His lips press against yours in a quick kiss as his hands settle on your waist while yours find their way around his neck, playing with the ends of his hair.

"I could ask you the same thing. When you texted that you were still here, I thought I would stop by to see you," you shrug.

Jungkook sighs and gives you a tight-lipped smile, lifting a hand to brush through his hair.

"My last client of the day cancelled on me, so I decided to stay back and work on some designs. I sent the others home, and I guess the time got away from me," he scratches the back of his neck.

"Mmm, handsome and hard-working, what a catch," you smile and tiptoe to give his cheek a peck.

"I don't want to disturb you, though. Should I go?" you continue, rubbing your hands up and down his chest.

Jungkook shakes his head as he removes your hands from his chest.

"No, stay. I could use your presence; it has been a stressful day."

He walks over to the studio's entrance, flips the open sign, locks the door, and pulls down the blinds, now closing for the day. Lastly, he switches off the main lights, leaving only the multiple neon lights on the walls in various designs and colours to keep you from darkness.

He takes one of your hands into his, interlocking your fingers, and leads you through the dimly lit room to behind the counter, and to the desk you've seen him work at many times. He rolls out his chair and sits at his desk, looks up at you, and pats his thigh, and you comply with his silent request. You sit, his muscular thighs between your legs. He puts one arm around you, holding your waist to keep you steady, while his other arm rests on your thigh, his chin resting on your shoulder.

Once in his lap, you look at the glance over the wooden surface covered with scattered papers, all filled with his artwork. Some designs are drawn with intricate detail, while others are simple sketches. But they are all equally impressive—sometimes you forget how talented Jungkook is.

"Oh my gosh, Kook! These are amazing!" you gasp, picking up one of the sheets and turning your head to look at him.

He takes the paper from your hands and places it back on the desk. You see the tips of his ears turning red.

"They're alright," he shrugs; you notice he seems sullen.

You turn in his hold, your body sideways on his lap, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

"What has got you so stressed out?" you ask, pushing back his fringe before moving your hand to fiddle with his earring.

Jungkook closes his eyes at the feel of your touch, exhaling a breath in relief. He leans forward, rests his forehead on your shoulder and hugs you tight.

"I just—that client, that was the fifth cancellation this month. I don't understand why; we had several consultations, and I listened to all his requests. I showed him so many different design options that I had sketched for him. I don't know maybe I—maybe I lost my touch or something."

"Hey, now that's not true; this stuff is unbelievable, Kook." you gesture at the multiple illustrations on his desk. "And you have been completely booked up with back-to-back appointments every day, I have never seen you so busy."

You tug on his hair and he whines, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and pulling you closer.

"Plus, do you think I would let a guy who's lost his touch anywhere near my skin with even a drop of ink?" you tease, your lips brushing his ear.

"That was months ago," he mumbles into your neck, and you feel the coolness of his lip rings against your skin.

“Yeah, and I would still let you be the one to do it."

Jungkook looks up at you as he argues, “Not like I’m going to let anyone touch you besides me.”

You boop his nose with your own, which makes him chuckle.

“I’m serious, Jungkook. You are passionate about your job, and it shows in your artwork. You are such a talented artist, people see your pieces online and come from all different places just to get inked by you. You. Because you are fucking Jeon Jungkook,” you poke at his chest.

“Okay, okay,” he smiles softly as he brings your hand to his lips, kissing it gently. “How do you always know what to say to calm me down?”

Your eyes sparkle at his question, and you smile gently as you hold his cheek, your thumb caressing the soft skin while pressing your forehead to his. “I know you. Everything I said is simply the truth.”

Jungkook’s mouth parts slightly in surprise, but his gaze softens. You weren’t sure due to the low lighting in the room, but his cheeks seemed to flush as well.

"Thank you, baby,” he says almost shyly, and you couldn’t believe this was the same man who flirts with you so shamelessly at every chance he gets, nor the same man who has had you screaming in pleasure several times a night.

There are many sides to Jungkook, and you adored all of them.

You wrap your arms around his torso, embracing him tightly, burying your face in his neck, and he hugs your waist just as firmly, kissing your forehead.

You both sit like that for a while, and your breathing becomes in sync as if your bodies had become one.

“I-I'm…I'm glad you came here,” he clears his throat as his arms tighten around your waist, basking in your warmth and comfort.

Jungkook has vented to you about work before, but this time, it feels different. You’ve never seen him like this.

"I'm here anytime you need to talk, Kook," you reassure.

“Well, that's good to know…” He said with a nervous smile. “But I meant…I'm glad you came here that day to get your tattoo, that you came into my life.”

Your body freezes momentarily at his words, but soon a fire ignites in your heart and spreads throughout you. You are filled with pride and relief that he feels comfortable and trusts you enough to share his personal feelings so openly.

"I'm glad I did too," you whisper, "I meant what I said though, I'm here if you ever need to talk."

“Okay,” he whispers, “Okay. But on one condition.”

"What?"

He tilts his head to look down at you, you look up at him through your lashes.

"You have to come and hold me like this when I do."

"Deal," you giggle.

"Seal it with a kiss," he leans down slightly.

You lift your head and meet his lips in an emotional kiss which soon turned more heated as your tongues mingled together.

You move down his body, kneeling between his thighs. Your hands grip his belt, and Jungkook pants lightly, his anticipation and need high. You unbuckle it and unbutton his jeans effortlessly, then quickly pull them down far enough for his bulge to be exposed. As expected, he is already hard for you. The effect you have on him is always intense. You glance up at the heavy-breathing man above you, eyes hooded and bottom lip caught between his teeth.

You shift your focus from his bulge to his t-shirt, gripping it by the hem and pulling it up. When he realizes what you want, he assists you; he sits up a little, grabbing the back of the collar and pulling it over his head with one hand, fully exposing his toned core. Just like that, his shirt is off, and he tosses it to the floor to be found later.

Your hands create goosebumps across his exposed skin as they brush against his lower abdomen when you grab the hem of his boxers and pull them down. His erection springs up and rests against his abdomen, impatient for your touch.

At the sight of his big, veiny dick, you unconsciously drag your tongue along your upper lip. You quickly remove his jeans and boxers, along with your shirt, leaving you in your bra, panties, and skirt.

Your hand wraps around his shaft, and your thumb swipes across his head, smoothing the precum over his length to make it feel better. You stroke him gently a couple of times before leaning down and placing a soft kiss against the tip of his cock. Jungkook hisses at the sensation, and he throws his head back.

You slowly begin to move your hand up and down his cock; you enjoy building him up gradually and prolonging his release. A knowing look flashes across his eyes when he discovers what you are doing. He chuckles, and then you swirl your tongue around his head, causing the smile to fall from his face immediately as his hand grips the sides of the chair.

“D-don’t tease,” he breathes heavily.

Your lips curve up into a barely noticeable smile at his reaction. You lick him from the base of his length to the top, swirling your tongue around his head once more before slowly pushing him between your lips and going down on him, your tongue pressing against his hardness as you take him in.

His abs clench at the contact, and a moan slips past his lips, “Fuck, yeah."

You glimpse up at him; his eyes are closed tightly, and sweat is forming on his golden skin, the exact way you like seeing him when you suck him off. The fact that you could affect him like that without even doing very much boosts you with confidence.

You start moving back up slowly, your hand wrapping around the base of his shaft and squeezing him gently, earning a whimper. You repeat your movements with eagerness.

You love giving him head, hearing his moans of pleasure, having him fall apart at your touch.

After a few rougher squeezes from your hand, you suck harder and take as much of him as you can into your mouth, using your hand to pump the rest of him that you can’t fit.

"Feel good?" you ask the obvious question.

He whines and raises his hand to your hair, pushing his fingers through the locks and out of your face. “That feels so good," he rasps.

You hum around his dick; you look up and find him already gazing down at you, his eyes dark with lust—an image you will carry with you to your grave.

You flutter your eyelashes at him and take him even deeper, fully engulfing his dick, his tip hitting the back of your throat each time you bob your head.

Jungkook gulps and his eyes roll back in his head. You feel his hands tangle in your hair, pulling slightly as his hips thrust up into your mouth on instinct.

You go back to slowly moving your hand up and down his length, and it lasts for a few seconds until his hands are over yours, stopping you. Before you can question him, he takes your head in a tight hold and forces you to move faster, his large hands enveloping your head. He gently pushes down against your head until his entire cock is in your mouth and holds you there, your nose touching his pelvis. Your eyes water, but you power through, breathing deeply through your nose.

The man appears to be in pure bliss. His thighs are shaking, and his eyes are blinking rapidly, trying hard to stay open. His mouth is agape as he releases breathy moans, his chest heaving up and down.

“Your mouth feels so good, baby, fuck,” he growls.

When he is satisfied, he pulls you up off of his cock and removes his hands. You pop back up and let go of his throbbing length, a string of saliva briefly connecting your mouth to his tip. You gasp for air with tears streaming down your face, and you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Always such a good girl for me, aren't you?” he says, lifting your chin and wiping your wet cheeks.

You nod with a sniff, your eyes still glassy.

Jungkook suddenly reaches forward to grab your hips and pulls you onto his lap. You quickly straddle him, your hands pressing against his chest as you grind softly against his dick. His lips crash into yours in a messy kiss; it lasts for a little while before he pulls away and looks straight at you, “You know I love having your mouth around me, baby, but I need to be inside you."

Then he’s capturing your lips once more, his arms encircling your legs around his waist as he does so. His hands rest under your thighs, effortlessly supporting your weight. You’re so immersed in how seamlessly his lips meld with yours that you don’t notice you both have shifted from the chair until you feel him place you on the desk.

Jungkook glides his hands up your thighs, only to have them wound around your waist, pulling you against him with force. He stands between your legs, with your pussy pressed directly against his member.

You grind your soaked panties against him, causing his lips to detach from yours, letting a groan escape from his lips as he tilts his head back, exposing his neck in the process. You trail small, wet kisses from the side of his face, along his jawline, and down his neck, before stopping at the junction between his neck and collarbone. You suck harshly on his skin, earning yourself a few moans from Jungkook, and you feel his chest vibrate.

Jungkook takes hold of your neck, his hand on your throat and kisses you intensely, attempting to express the longing he has felt for you since the moment you walked into the studio. His tongue swipes against your lower lip asking for entrance, and you don’t hesitate to let him in. As his tongue dances with yours, you feel his hands tug at your skirt before he pulls it down, pausing to allow you to lift off the desk enough for him to remove it along with your bra, tossing them to join the rest of the clothes on the floor.

The sight of your naked torso distracts him from doing anything else, his gaze lingers on your breasts before it shifts to your hip where your tattoo is. Jungkook’s hand instinctively glides over the skin adorned with black ink.

“It's still my favourite piece I've ever done,” Jungkook mutters before he plants kisses along your sternum and then finally on your breasts. Before his lips can explore further, you cup his face and bring it back to yours, and you both smile into the kiss. He gathers you in his arms and moves toward the tattoo chair behind him.

Jungkook carefully lowers you onto the reclined chair, and you watch as he stands at the edge of it, removing the black jeans that are already halfway down his legs. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind that you’re watching every movement of his; you bite your lip and smirk, and it seems to turn him on even further, which urges him to discard his pants and join you quickly.

He crawls over you, supporting his weight with the arms on either side of your head. He gives you a quick kiss on the lips before he begins his exploration of your body, using his lips. Open-mouthed kisses are placed along your neck, across the curve of your breasts, and back up to your neck, where he decides to leave his mark by sucking on the skin at the base of your neck. The noises that escape your lips only motivate him to suck even more aggressively, creating even more red marks as he moves down your body.

“Kook, do something,” and as if he had been waiting for those words, Jungkook starts to move lower on your body until he’s hovering over your clothed pussy. You watch as his nose skims over the wet patch on your underwear. His hands smooth over your legs before they settle onto your hips, which he doesn’t leave unmarked as he sucks on the skin above your tattoo. Your hips rise, yet his stronghold stops you from squirming. “Kook, I need you.”

Upon hearing your desperate begging, Jungkook presses a finger to your covered heat, skillfully finding the bundle of nerves that have you writhing beneath his touch. He begins to rub between your legs, with the sole barrier to full contact being the delicate piece of cloth. He keeps teasing you through your panties, relishing the sounds you make as you squirm beneath him. Deciding that you’ve had enough of the torture, Jungkook hooks a finger under the waistband of your panties before pulling them down, revealing your glistening cunt. He locks eyes with you, and you observe from above as he slips a finger inside you, his stare unwavering. As he pumps his finger inside you, your head tilts back, and you let out a string of moans.

“You’re so tight, baby,” Jungkook comments before inserting another finger inside you, gentle kisses along the inside of your thighs as your hands weave into his hair. You’re surprised when you feel him sucking on your clit; the extra stimulation makes you tremble against his thrusting fingers.

“Mmm, and so wet. Your pussy tastes so good, so fucking sweet.”

“Oh my god, K-kook,” your back arches off the bed as he adds in a third finger while keeping his mouth on your sex. He smiles triumphantly upon hearing you repeat his name like a mantra, and he sets out to ensure you’re moaning it even more loudly. You bite your bottom lip, trying to suppress your desperate moans, but it's in vain when Jungkook curls his fingers within you, hitting a specific spot that causes you to clutch his hair tightly and cry out his name shamelessly.

Jungkook relentlessly drives into you, his fingers curled to target the spot that makes you moan his name, while his mouth remains attached to your clit, teeth lightly tugging and grazing the bud before his lips form a tight seal around it. You feel the pressure in your lower stomach intensify with every thrust of Jungkook's fingers and every flick of his tongue, all leading up to your orgasm.

Jungkook watches as the wave of ecstasy flows through your body, and he swears you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, with the way your face contorts in ecstasy. His fingers are still thrusting inside, helping you ride out your high, but the oversensitivity soon becomes too much, and you have to push him away.

As you catch your breath, you take a moment to notice what a handsome man Jungkook truly is. Complementing his defined biceps and strong thighs were his abs, impeccably shaped, and you observe as the stunning man above you licks the remnants of you from his fingers. The sight has you wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him down so that his chest meets yours. Jungkook smirks at your action before he hungrily attacks your lips with his glistening ones, letting you taste yourself as you recover from your climax.

“Take this off,” you mumble against his lips, your foot at his lower back attempting to push his boxers down. He quickly complies with your request, shedding the dark grey boxers before leaning down to his jeans on the floor to retrieve his wallet from his back pocket and get a condom. He rips open the foil with his teeth, being careful not to tear the condom in the process, before rolling it down his length. He hovers over you again, keeping most of his weight off of you with the support of his arms.

Jungkook kisses at your navel before trailing upward towards your breasts. His mouth envelops one of your nipples, sucking on it, he takes his time sucking one breast while kneading the other one before he switches. Your hands hold onto his biceps, gliding over his skin as he prepares your body for another climax. When he’s satisfied with the marks he’s left on your two mounds, he places one more kiss against your lips before looking into your eyes.

“Are you ready, baby?”

“Mhm, Kook. Want you so bad.”

And so Jungkook takes his length and aligns himself at your entrance, the tip of his member almost pushing past your folds. He gives you one last peck on the corner of your mouth before his member sinks into your pussy, making you wince at the stretch of your walls. He pushes himself until he is buried deep within you, causing you to whimper when you feel his full length inside of you. Jungkook groans loudly as he feels himself being embraced by the warmth and tightness of your wet, velvety walls. He reaches for your hands and lifts them to rest on both sides of your head and interlocks your fingers with his. His forehead meets yours, and both of you share a longing gaze while relishing the moment. Once you've adjusted to his size, you move beneath him, and Jungkook takes it as a signal to begin his ravaging.

He pulls back all the way, leaving only his tip inside of you, before pushing himself balls-deep within you once again. You urge him on with your voice, calling for him to go faster and harder, and he complies by thrusting into you at an astonishing speed. With each thrust of his, Jungkook’s name escapes your lips in moans that fill the studio, along with his panting and the sound of skin slapping against skin.

You feel the warmth of his chest leave yours when he sits up, his hands gripping your waist, pressing his fingernails into your skin. The new position allows him to pull you to meet each of his thrusts, hitting at a new angle that makes you cry out his name. When he starts hitting that same spot that tipped you over the edge earlier, you grab his arms and pull him so that he’s on top of you again. His entire weight is on top of you, but you don’t care, not when his thrusts are paired with his lips on your neck.

You moan loudly, which is followed by your pussy convulsing around his cock, and Jungkook knows that you’re close. Your nails scratch against his broad back, leaving a stinging sensation that only adds to his pleasure. You're sure he’ll have red marks all over his back as if he’s been attacked, but it's a fair trade because he’s marked you plenty with his lips.

Jungkook feels you clenching around him even tighter than before, and he’s slamming his hips against yours, urging you to reach your climax. When Jungkook feels your nails dig deeper into his back, his hand reaches between your two sweaty bodies and draws circles on your clit, which sends you off into euphoria. Your second orgasm of the night hits you harder than the first, and your body would have trembled if it were not for Jungkook’s body in the way—the body that is still connected to yours and continues thrusting into you. Your swollen walls clench so tightly that Jungkook starts chasing his high. He groans loudly against your neck as he shallowly thrusts into you, helping the both of you ride out your orgasms.

Jungkook sighs in release, unaware of how long he’s been holding his breath. Jungkook detaches himself from you, and you gasp lightly, feeling somewhat empty as the warmth leaves with him. He rolls off of you, and the two of you lie close together, side by side, attempting to regain your breath after the intense exchange. You sense his gaze from the corner of your eye, and when you turn to face him, your eyes meet his round, dark brown ones.

"Come here."

Unsatisfied with just your shoulders touching, Jungkook turns onto his side, and you do the same before the both of you shift closer to each other. His hands rest naturally on your hips as if returning them to their rightful place. No words are exchanged between the two of you, but there is no need to because you find yourself lost in the softness of his brown eyes, and he can’t help but mirror the wide grin that’s plastered on your face. His hand moves to your tattoo, and you observe his expression as his fingers hover over the indelible design on your skin. His eyes hold a sparkle that evokes a certain emotion to wash over you.

“So, do you feel better?” you ask, breaking the silence of the afterglow, but he looks confused at your words, and you find the sight adorable. “You were stressed out...”

“Me? Stressed out? Huh, I don't know what you're talking about.”

You are the one who's confused this time, but not for long, because the realization hits you when you see his mischievous smirk. You punch his arm playfully, and he grins almost too widely, his eyes forming crescents. His hands, which were placing feathery touches on your tattoo, are now tickling your sides, and he’s elated at the sound of your joyful laughter before pulling you against his chest.

Jungkook looks around the studio, the neon lights casting shadows on his face, "I feel good; how could I not? This is a first for me though— fucking at work."

You look up at him with raised brows in surprise, Jungkook smiles down at you and continues.

"You know, I didn't think the next time I had you back in my chair would be like this."

"Oh my gosh," you blush and hide your face in his chest, a little embarrassed but mostly shy at his remark. He laughs, and you feel it rumble through his chest; his hand lifts to pet down the back of your head.

"You can't be shy with me after all that. Every time I'm working on a client now, all I will be thinking about is you beneath me in this chair."

"I can't imagine what the crew would think if they found out what we did," you mumble into his chest with a little laugh.

"They would think I'm a sterilizing expert because there will be no evidence of what happened here," he sits up and gently strokes your ass, and then gives it a pinch, eliciting a gasp from you, "You're in charge of the desk, you little minx; I'll do the chair," he winks at you.

You're left to blush again, swooning as you both get up to remove any trace of the two of you in the studio.

✧ ──── 》》 ──── ✧

You blink away the tears forming in your eyes. Your thumb hovers over his name, considering calling him back just as you hear a knock at your door.

Answer your phone I've got so much to say I'm at my all-time low And it's just too much to take

Jungkook can raise his hands and admits he didn't handle that night as well as he could have, but he is truly sorry. He realizes that even if his intention wasn't to hurt or offend you, what he did wasn't his best moment. As much as he tells you that you are special to him and that what you two have is different—which is true—his actions didn't match his words, and you deserve better than that. Jungkook may not be the perfect gentleman, far from it, but he is better than that, especially when it concerns you.

As the hands of the clock tick away and more time passes, he gets up and begins pacing.

If you listened to his message you would have called by now right?

Jungkook isn't used to this—needing someone. Sure, he has desired certain women, and he always got them, but once the lust faded, he never wanted them to stay; never needed them to stay.

He hasn't always been like this, and he knows where it all began: the fear of giving his all to someone and then losing them, of handing over his heart to another and having them desecrate it.

Jungkook refused to be like his father; he watched him give his mother everything and love her immensely, only for her to run off without regard for him or Jungkook.

He fears emotionally connecting with someone else will end as he has always seen: being left alone and heartbroken.

Because inevitably love is never simple, nor is it equal in the sacrifice of pouring oneself into another.

He can't imagine what could be worse than letting someone in and loving so wholly only to be left empty because you offered yourself up to someone undeserving.

Jungkook knows how good of a man his father is, and if he could get burned and scarred by love, Jungkook knows he doesn't stand a chance.

And who would willingly walk into a fire?

When people asked him why he didn't get into a serious relationship, he would say, “I like change. Life is too long to commit to one person and too short not to explore your options.”

But that was before he discovered you. Once you fit into his life so perfectly he knew he wouldn’t be able to live without you. He knew he had found that one constant in his life.

The constant being: Y/L/N Y/N.

What he shared with you has always been simple, and the effort you both put in has always been equal.

Jungkook never believed he would find that kind of connection, one that flows with ease. Now that he has found it, he desires to keep you in his life and wants you to remain a part of him.

He will walk through the flames if you're on the other side.

Jungkook has never been fond of lingering and preferred moving from one thing to the next, one woman to the next. He didn't enjoy being too close; he always kept people at a distance maybe not physically but emotionally. Tattooing has been the only steady thing in his life; he was committed to his craft.

But you broke down his walls, shattered the pattern—you got close. He found the courage to let his guard down. He knows there is nothing to be wary of, no looming feeling that he will be met with disappointment. Everything is easy with you.

His cowardice had him ruling out a love that hadn't happened yet. Maybe he is a fool, but he can't live with regret. He's ready to dive off the deep end. It's draining to always be on the defence, ready to push people away, and he's tired. He wants to settle down and commit to you.

Jungkook can be vulnerable around you; he knows you won't use his weaknesses against him like people have in his past. You don't even view them as things that make him weak just what makes him human, because no one can be perfect. However, he would argue that you seem to be pretty damn close.

He feels most comfortable with you; he trusts you and can be himself. There is no pretence with you; Jungkook likes who he is around you.

Jungkook loves you.

In your eyes, he is the guy who comforted you when he saw how nervous you were while getting your first tattoo. The one who keeps an extra hoodie in his car for you because you are never dressed for the weather. The one who finishes work and picks up takeout for the two of you to eat together. That's the Jungkook you see, the one you know better than anyone else—the one you have wrapped around your precious finger.

You've never asked him to be any different from who he is, despite his shortcomings in many aspects. You never judge him for the life he's leading and never pressure him to change his ways, no matter how flawed. Yet you still never expect the worst from him.

So now, all he fears is that he has accomplished the one thing he dreaded the most, and has destroyed the link holding the two of you together.

Should he go to your place?

Jungkook hasn't gone over because he didn't want to seem overbearing; he wanted to give you your space until you felt ready to talk to him on your terms. Also, if you weren't answering his calls, you most likely wouldn't answer your door either.

But he doesn't want you to think he won't fight for you. He won't lose you without a lack of trying. If Jungkook is anything, he is persistent. He has too much left to say to you and he isn't about to sit here and take this distance any longer. He's willing to do whatever it takes.

As he looks out of his window and stares at the hundreds of lights, he feels a new surge of determination; he is rising from this low point he has sunk into, fed up with wallowing in his self-pity.

He turns and strides to his door, yanking it open with vigour. He sprints down the stairs and rushes outside into the chilly night, heading straight for his car.

Jungkook pulls out of his spot and drives the familiar route to your house, accelerating down the road at the maximum speed permitted by law. In his state of urgency, it seems that all he encounters are red lights and stop signs.

His grip on the steering wheel tightens, and he has to hold himself back from stomping too hard on the gas pedal when the light turns green.

Answer your phone I've got to get to you God, I hope you're alone And someone new isn't next to you

Y/N POV

You gather yourself and halt your wandering thoughts to get up and check who is at your door. You are not expecting anyone, and you told your friends you won't be going out with them tonight. Your excuse was being too tired from work, but honestly, you just were too sad to pretend that you were okay.

Could it be him? He said he wouldn't give up, that he had to see me.

Do you want it to be him? You would be lying to yourself if you said no.

So it's a surprise when you open the door and see Taehyung standing there with his hands in his front pockets, teetering back and forth on his heels.

A part of you is disappointed, not because it's Taehyung but because it's not Jungkook.

"Tae? I said in the group chat that I'm not going out tonight. Didn't you see my message?"

He looks you up and down and barges in, walking past you.

"And didn't you see my message? I said you are going out tonight and I was coming over to pick you up. Why aren't you ready?"

To be fair you were so preoccupied on your phone, listening to Jungkook's message and reminiscing, that you didn't notice any other messages. But when you go to your chats, you see his words are true.

He plops down on your couch, stretching his arm out on the back and gives you an expectant look, his eyes wide and his brows raised.

"What?"

"What do you mean, what? Go get ready," he makes a shooing gesture with his hand and continues.

"The clubs aren't open all night—well, actually they are..." his brows furrow as he looks off into the distance for a brief moment, then catches himself. "But I don't have all night, so let's go!" He demands with a clap of his hands.

"I'm not going out tonight, Tae. I told everyone I'm staying home."

You lie down on the couch next to his seated figure, with your back resting against the armrest.

"Didn't we just go over this?" he points between the two of you. "You are going out; everyone is already at the club. They got a table, and I'm sure Jimin has already downed a shocking amount of shots, so we have to leave soon if we want to catch up."

Taehyung taps your knee twice and then shoves your legs off the couch, bringing you to a sitting position. You take a deep breath and throw your head back, crossing your arms while closing your eyes.

"I don't feel like going out. I want to stay home."

"And do what? Continue to sulk over pretty tattoo boy?"

You open your eyes and turn your head toward him, pouting, "I was not sulking."

He stares at you with a raised brow, filled with doubt.

Rolling your eyes and letting out a sigh, your arms drop to your sides, "I'm just not in the mood, I'll only bring down the vibe."

Taehyung turns his body to face you, a sympathetic expression on his face.

"You're only making this harder for yourself by just sitting around and thinking about him, Y/N. I understand that you like him a lot—I do—but a guy like that isn't worth wasting your life waiting for him."

You look down at your hands in your lap and chip at your nail polish.

"He's been leaving me messages. He tells me how sorry he is and that he misses me. He sounds like he's having a rough time, too. That doesn't erase what he did, I know, but it was just one mistake. He's a good man, Tae. I've always known he wasn't perfect, but everyone has faults, right?"

Taehyung holds your hand and squeezes it, leaning down to meet your gaze. His voice is careful when he speaks.

"People like him always know the right thing to say. If he were such a good guy, he wouldn't have used you the way he did. Yes, everyone has faults, but you can find someone whose faults don't hurt you. It may have been only one mistake, but if he truly cared about you as he claimed, he would have never treated you that way."

Tears form in your eyes and your voice cracks. "It's just—I know him; it sounds pathetic, but he has shown me a side of himself that I know he doesn't show everyone. The real him and that's the Jungkook who has my heart. That's the Jungkook I love. We've experienced so much together, it's difficult to just move on from him."

"If you don't try to move on from him, how can you expect to, babe?"

He's right; you haven't tried. Throughout this entire period of your ignoring him, you have consistently kept Jungkook in your thoughts. Every time you went out with friends, every time a guy tried to flirt with you, and every time you held your phone—Jungkook. When you woke up, when you were at work, and when you went to bed—Jungkook. Even when you heard a knock at your door, as Taehyung did earlier, you hoped it was Jungkook.

Jungkook. Jungkook. Jungkook.

Your mind and heart were devoted to Jungkook. Everything revolved around him.

Your tears overflow, and you finally break. Taehyung wraps his arms around you, and you cry into his shoulder. He holds you until you calm down, and your sobs turn into sniffles.

You lift your head and wipe your cheeks.

"I'm such a mess, I'm so sorry, Tae. You came out to have a good time, and here you are consoling me. I have probably fucked up your fun night out," you croak out. "I must seem so stupid, all hung up over a guy."

"You haven't ruined anything, and you certainly aren't stupid. I would never think that of you. I know how much of yourself you give to someone important to you. I wish you would give yourself to someone worthy, not someone who takes advantage of you. You are an amazing person, and if Jungkook hasn't realized how lucky he is to have you, then he's the stupid one, Y/N."

"Thank you, Tae. Not just for tonight, but for listening to me go on about Jungkook this past month like a sad, broken record. You stuck by me, have been so caring, and always validated my emotions. I swear I'm the one who's lucky and unworthy of you."

"Nonsense, you know you can depend on me anytime," he says, patting your head and smiling affectionately.

You smile back, glance down, and see his shirt is stained with your tears.

"I ruined your shirt," you sniffle, pinching at the fabric.

Taehyung looks down at it and shrugs, "Hey, I prefer your tears to stain my shirt rather than Jimin's vomit," he jokes to lighten the mood.

You laugh, and he points at your face, his expression bright.

"Aha! There she is! Happy Y/N, I thought I had lost her!" he exclaims.

He turns his head, looking around, arms stretched out as if speaking to a crowd, "Ladies and gentlemen, no need to fear; I have managed to make Y/N laugh."

Taehyung once again proves to be the best friend one could have; you can always count on him to cheer you up and gather the pieces of your broken heart without fail.

"Shut up, Tae. I have neighbours," you giggle, playfully pushing him.

He joins your giggles and returns your playful push, "Well then, go get dressed! If you don't I will run up and down the hallway screaming. I came here to take you out and have fun. Sitting at home alone can't be better than partying with your insanely funny, incredibly handsome best friend. And if that isn't enough, Seokin's dancing is a sure way to lift anyone's spirit."

"Okay, fine," you agree, getting up with a big smile. The image of Seokjin's dancing already boosts your mood.

Making your way to your bedroom, you yell out, "But if anyone comments on my swollen eyes, you'll be dealing with them!"

"I've got your back, babe. Don't worry!"

You can always count on Taehyung.

Tell me, tell me now am I too late Is there somebody new taking my place? Is there somebody's lips on you Where mine used to be, yeah?

Jungkook parks across the street from your building; he sits in his car, pondering whether it's too late to knock at your door. Are you already asleep? Should he have waited until tomorrow? If you answer and open it to find him standing there, will you shut it in his face?

He knows right now he's not your favourite person, but he doesn't believe you would be so cruel as to turn him away at your doorstep.

He rubs his hands down his face and lets out a deep sigh.

How could he let things end up like this?

He ruined something so special, so sacred. Building a relationship so pure and superior doesn't happen to everyone, and he managed to have it hanging by a thread.

Your relationship can't just end because of one mistake—a big mistake, yes, but he believes that what you two have is strong enough to overcome this. The two of you have made so many wonderful, meaningful memories.

Jungkook remembers how good things were before this—before he ruined everything.

✧ ──── 《《 ──── ✧

Jungkook never imagined he would witness such a breathtaking sight: you bare before him, glazed eyes and slightly parted lips, lovely sounds escaping as he traced wet kisses along the nape of your neck, down your throat, over the curves of your breasts, pausing to swirl his tongue over a sensitive bud, drawing out his name from your throat, the same one now decorated with shades of blue and purple.

“Please, Kook,” you beg, pleading with him for more, and he is more than willing to give it to you, knowing he can hardly deny you anything.

He smiles, kissing his way back up to your lips, positioning his body over yours and aligning his hips so he can slide into your warmth with a soft thrust, the wetness coating the inside of your thighs showing how aroused he has made you.

You clutch at his shoulders with a moan, nails digging in and creating crescent shapes with every thrust he makes. Jungkook fucks you slow and deep, hitting every nerve within you, making you unravel before him in no time at all. His lips move slowly against yours, tongues twirling together as your legs wrap tightly around his body, drawing him closer and deeper into you, his sighs of contentment pouring into your mouth.

Jungkook is sure this is what heaven feels like: his hands on you, hips rocking against your own as you devour the sounds escaping each other's lips. You encourage one another until he picks up pace, gazing down at your face, cheeks flushed and lips swollen.

The coil in your stomach tightens, twisting, and is ready to snap. Jungkook is also at his limit, eyes hooded but maintaining eye contact with yours, his forearms supporting his weight on either side of your body.

Overcome with pleasure, the feeling of his skin against your own, united with you in the most intimate way two people can be. The act is sinful but fully infused with the profound bond you both share. What you and Jungkook have cannot be expressed in words, and he does not think the two of you need to articulate what you both understand.

“Come on, baby, cum for me,” he husks, gently nibbling at your jaw.

One of his hands moves to where your bodies meet, flicking his thumb over your clit repeatedly. Then you come undone, the release so intense that his name echoes off every corner of the small bedroom. He continues throughout your orgasm, prolonging it until the sensation of your walls tightening around him brings him to his climax, spilling inside of you with a groan of your name, lips pressed harshly to yours, putting everything he feels into a single kiss.

He pulls away, carefully removes the condom and ties a knot at its end before disposing of it and falling onto the bed, shifting onto his side to look at you. The moonlight streams through the window, illuminating your skin in a radiant glow. Jungkook trails his fingertips along the surface of your arm, moving down until he reaches your hip, pulling you closer to him as you tuck your head into his chest.

Jungkook spots the numerous red crescents on your body already beginning to take on a darker colour — almost as deep as the black ink he used for your tattoo. Jungkook wishes for nothing more than the colour of the marks to be so deep that it will cover you forever.

He holds you close, his thumb brushing over the familiar tattoo on your hip— the everlasting mark that brought you two together. You found each other that day months ago when you walked into his studio and had him ink his design on you, and ever since then, you have been a part of his life. The ink serves as a reminder of the bond between you and Jungkook, etched onto your skin just as you are to him.

“You should let me give you another one."

“What do you think I should get?” you whisper against his chest.

"My name, here," he replies, his inked finger tracing just above the left side of your chest, right over your heart.

You smile as you push him so that he lies on his back; you move to lie on your stomach between his legs, your chin resting on his chest. His hands come to your back, caressing it up and down.

"Hmm, and you'll get my name here," you lightly run your pointer finger over his left pec.

Jungkook lifts a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, smiles tenderly, and nods while humming in agreement. His fingers linger, skimming your face as his gaze softens. His eyes are filled with adoration as he looks at you.

Jungkook can feel your heartbeat against his stomach; he wonders if you can feel his own under your touch. Both of your hearts are beating rapidly, which he assumes is due to the physical exertion you both just experienced and not from this impassioned moment you two are having.

He can physically feel how much affection there is between you two. He has never felt that before. It's moments like this that make Jungkook feel incredibly fortunate to have you in his life.

"Aren't tattoo artists usually against getting other people's names tattooed?" you tease with a smirk and a raised brow.

Jungkook shrugs with a smirk, his tongue playing with his lip rings, "I live by my own rules."

You roll your eyes, shaking your head, "Oh, what a rebel you are."

Jungkook's hands go to your sides and tickle you with a gentle pinch.

"Kook!" you laugh as you jolt further up his body.

"Kook!" he mocks in a high-pitched voice, imitating you before wrapping his arms around you and hugging you close.

You pout and make a soft 'hmph' sound so insanely cute that Jungkook can't resist the smile spreading across his face; he laughs and then kisses your pouty lips and all over your face. You giggle and lightly tug his necklace with your finger, bringing his mouth to yours for a long, sweet kiss. When you break apart, Jungkook gives one final peck above your left breast.

"I was serious, you know," he murmurs, voice low. He juts his chin lightly to where he last placed his lips.

"Haven't you marked me enough?" you stretch out your neck and gesture at the hickey-covered skin.

"I wanna mark you every way I can, baby," he smiles smugly.

One of your hands plays with the hair at the nape of his neck, and the other plays with the hoop in his ear. You avoid eye contact, keeping your eyes focused on the earring.

"Tattoos are forever, Kook," you say sheepishly.

"You're telling me," Jungkook chuckles, tilting his head toward his right arm covered in a sleeve of tattoos. He turns his head to kiss your wrist and then cups your face with both hands, making you look at him, "Hey, you planning on going somewhere and not telling me?"

You shake your head, his big hands still holding it.

"Hmm, I'm a bit worried now; I need to hear you say it," he squints his eyes, teasing.

"No, I'm not going anywhere," you grin.

Jungkook mirrors your grin and nods, "Good," he pulls your face closer and nudges his nose against yours, "Because I'm not either."

He squishes your cheeks together in his hands, making your lips pucker out.

"It's not easy to find someone this cute," he coos, shaking your head.

You pull your head from his grasp and lightly slap his chest. His hands slide down to your ass and give it a firm squeeze, long fingers digging into the smooth flesh.

"Even harder to find someone equally as sexy,” he whispers in your ear, his teeth grazing lightly. His voice is so deep you feel it vibrate through his body against yours.

"Huh, it can't be too hard, I found you," you quip, poking his cheek.

Jungkook gives your ass a spank, and you gasp as he flips you both over, with you now under his hovering body.

"Why don't I show you just how lucky we both are?" his tone dripping with seduction.

The tip of his nose trails down your neck as his lips ghost over your skin, down to the valley of your breasts. He stops to knead the soft mounds, surging forward to swirl his tongue over one of the hardened nubs before taking it into his mouth and sucking gently. He hums in satisfaction. He releases it, giving it a gentle bite, and switches to show the other the same attention.

Once pleased, he continues his trail past your stomach and stops at your pulsing heat. He nestles his head between your legs, his hands grip your thighs and spread you wide open, your already slick folds clench around nothing in anticipation.

Jungkook gives your clit a teasing lick before diving in without hesitation. You whimper when his mouth latches onto you, his wide tongue licking a slow, filthy stripe over your slit, your hands flying into his hair. He groans, his eyes rolling back as he tastes you, his tongue circling your clit and then flicking over it repeatedly before dragging down to press at your entrance. Your hand tightens in his hair as his tongue presses deep into your dripping hole.

“Fuck, Kook,” you whine, grinding harder as your thighs tighten around his head.

He exhales through his nose, eyes crinkling as he smiles into your pussy when you buck your hips against his face. The sequence of sucking, licking, and prodding with his lips and tongue has you both writhing in ecstasy. The wet, sloppy sounds of his lips and tongue working against you fill the room. The intimate night of passion continues until the moon gives way to the sun.

✧ ──── 》》 ──── ✧

Jungkook is pulled out of his memories when he sees the door of the main entrance to your building open. He watches you step out, and his heart nearly leaps out of his chest upon seeing you.

Your short, tight dress hugs your body in all the right places. Your tall, thin high heels complement your legs phenomenally. Your hair cascades down your figure, making you look like an angel. You look gorgeous.

The sight of you would bring any man to his knees. You must be dressed to go out for the night, so he must act now if he doesn't want his drive here to be for nothing. He moves to get out of his car, but just as his hand touches the handle, he sees a man walk out right behind you, and Jungkook freezes.

Jungkook looks closely at the man's face; he's good-looking. He's sure he recognizes him from your posts. He looks like one of the guys you've tagged in your pictures, the ones where he's had his arm around you. The happy idiot. What was it... Taemin? Taejin? Taewoo?

Whoever he is, he extends his arm for you to link with yours, and you do. You're about to step down the stairs when you stop and say something to the man. You have an anxious expression, but whatever you say to the man beside you only brings a fond smile to his face. He responds to you and leans down to kiss your cheek.

The cheek that Jungkook's lips have been on more times than he can count.

And you light up as if he made everything better. You walk down the stairs, arm in arm with the man whom Jungkook worries has taken his place.

Once you step off the last step, you stop once more, unlink your arm, and pull out your phone. The light from the screen shines on your face; you tap your fingers on it for a few seconds before putting it back in your purse. You relink your arms with who Jungkook thinks is the luckiest guy in the world and set off down the street, heading to your destination.

Jungkook feels the wind being knocked out of him. He hadn't even realized he had gotten out of his car. He stands far enough that you don't notice him, but close enough to see you perfectly. To see how you were on the phone he knows is full of his messages and calls—that you are still ignoring.

Tell me, tell me now, what can I do To make it up to you Won't you tell me, please? Tell me, please

All the hope and determination he had when he left his house seemed to have disintegrated. He feels small, much like your figure becomes as you walk further away from him on the arm of another.

Jungkook stares at your back until he loses sight of you as you round the corner. He stands there feeling like he has just been slapped in the face for the second time tonight, but this one stings much more.

What else can he do?

Jungkook doesn't know how to make it up to you, and at this point, he's unsure if he's fighting a losing battle. You seem to be doing just fine without him. It hurts to see you happy when he has been miserable without you.

He needs you to talk to him, to tell him what to do to win you back. What he has to do so he can hear your laugh, smell your scent, and touch your skin. He needs to have you back in his arms, on his lips—in his life.

He tilts his head back, eyes focused on the moon and how it mocks him, shining brightly while he is filled with darkness.

He stands there, disoriented; all he can do is let out a bitter laugh at the irony that he drove all the way here to watch you walk away from him—now and quite possibly forever.

With a sad smile, he is overwhelmed with questions, out of his mind. Why are you two ending? How can you? How can you two end?

All your memories together overflow out of his perforated heart, he puts his hand over his chest trying to block them and keep them inside, but they escape through his fingers.

Jungkook had you by his side and took you for granted; now he is watching you be cherished by another man while he stands by like a stranger in the night.

He doesn't want to be like this, he doesn't. He hates this, really hates this.

He doesn't believe it would hurt this much even if his heart stopped.

Answer your phone I've got to talk to you I'm out here in the cold Trying to get through to you, oh

Jungkook never envisioned that when he finally loved someone, he would be left alone and heartbroken— not because you decided to run off, not because you were undeserving, but because he pushed you away.

He took too long to walk through the flames and got burned. He dove off the deep end too late into a pool of emptiness and hit the bottom.

Jungkook stands in the street, the cold air biting at his cheeks, but he can't find the strength to return to his car and drive home. He came here on a mission to talk to you face to face. He hopes that if he stands here long enough, you might walk back around that corner and come straight to him. He hopes you will answer his plea and do something to fix him. Hold him in your arms and tell him that everything will be okay and that the two of you will work together to mend what has been broken.

But you don't, and Jungkook's heart may be beyond repair at this rate.

Jungkook's heart hurts so badly that it's strange that he's even alive.

He should have followed you, chased you blindly even if you were trying to run away from him. He should have yelled at the top of his lungs that there's a hole in his heart that can't be filled and he's dying of pain.

How can he forget you? He doesn't know how to do that.

Like the tattoo he inked on your hip, you are etched in him— an indelible impression on his heart.

You are the only person he wants, your hands to comfort him, your voice to soothe his heart.

He'll have to settle for listening to your voice through the phone, even if it's only your voicemail.

Jungkook digs into his pocket for his phone, unlocks it and with your name already on the screen, presses the call button and waits.

Answer your phone, answer your phone Answer your phone, answer your phone Answer your phone

But he doesn't have to wait for long.

He's immediately met with a voice, but not your sweet voice; instead it's an answering machine.

And now he has been slapped for the third time tonight, so hard that he stands there in the cold, gripping his phone so tightly that his knuckles might bleed. He releases a shaky breath as his eyes fill with tears, and spill over before he knows it.

Jungkook is hit with the reality that you still refuse to talk to him. You have now blocked his number on your phone and blocked him out of your life.

"We are unable to reach the person you are calling at this time. Please try calling back later."

↬ so how do we feel? hope he suffered enough for your liking. let me know what you think! muah! 💋

taglist: @bangtans-momma @celticcountrygal @annafarrr

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secretress · 1 day ago

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❝𝐏𝐀𝐂: 𝐀 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐮𝐧. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐤𝐲. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞.❞

Are you the sun, the moon, or the stars? (Detailed + channeled song)

Masterlist.

Author's note,

I was just thinking about writing random things for the author's note. Usually I have nothing to add, but author's note divides well for 'masterlist,' and 'divider.'

Moodboard | Divider

Pile I.

“When a shooting star is in the air, everyone gazes at it like it is something magical, but when you come into the spotlight, no one does the same, and yet you keep shining. Why shine when everything around you does not do the same?” A lot of people question this. I see so many people in one room, you in the middle, a spotlight shining on you, and yet there is a pretty smile on your face as if you are the star of the show even though they are behind you holding a rose to someone else. So why is it that you shine whether or not people focus on you? What makes it easier for you to do such a thing even when you cannot and you are scared?

Why do people’s questions like these sometimes affect you when you are a star? When you are so radiant, both inside and out, so genuine, so caring, and such a pretty soul? What makes it easier for you to cower into a small ball in the back of your mind when others say things like that to you? Sure, you will put a front on, but why? Why not let them know that their opinion does not matter to you as you already do, but actually mean it? You should mean it.

If a shooting star grabs others attention instantly, if people make wishes when they see one, if people take photographs of it, if people are so in awe of it, why can’t you do the same with yourself and mean it? What makes it so hard for you to remove the mask with yourself and become genuine with your own heart? To go within the depth of your pretty heart and figure out what makes you so insecure about who you are because, mind you, you are supposed to shine. You are supposed to be in the spotlight, and you already know this. You are supposed to be seen and you know this; you are the one who is trying to be seen, so when it happens, why let others hurt you? Why let others take your actual spotlight away from yourself? Shine brighter around them and forget their words, it should not mean anything when you already know what you want.

Sometimes figuring out what we want can be challenging, everyone has been there, yet you already found it out, so why push it away out of fear? You are deserving of being in the spotlight, it is your dream, so make it yours, make it your shooting star and when the star burns up, let an illuminating trail of light appear so people know who you are, so people know that you did that, and go on with your day. Because you did that, you got out of that hellhole and shined brighter than any star, and fled to somewhere that makes you safe or you will. And yet, everything holds you back. It is okay to be seen, and it is okay to feel scared. These feelings are valid, but it is not okay to not push yourself and not figure out more to your heart by ignoring it. Stop ignoring the depths of your heart and this time, as you read this pile, take some time and learn about who you really are. Yes, you already know what you want, and that is awesome, but who are you really?

Are you someone who cowers away from their wants? Are you someone who shuns themselves when someone voices their opinions? Are you someone who laughs at the cruel words but cries later? Are you someone who desires to be assertive and wishes they could gain the spotlight to voice their opinions or also help or motivate others? Are you someone who thinks it is okay to be seen? Or are you all of these people, depending on your fears and emotions, but never doing anything about it?

I believe it is time for you to become a shooting star, take charge of your life, and become happier for yourself. Because when you become a shooting star, and someone tries to bring you down, you are still going to have that light trail leaving everyone breathless.

Channeled song.

Dos Oruguitas - Sebastián Yatra

Masterlist

Pile II.

“It’s a wish, a beautiful, beautiful wish. My, my, you are such a beautiful star illuminating in the sky, dancing around me. Oh, for how I wish, no.. truly long for your touch-’’

Your beauty draws others, they crave your touch, your presence, yet it is never anything sexual. Your mind is their dream escape route, meaning they desire to escape the world only if it is in your mind. Your mind has an endless amount of doors to so many possibilities of fun, you can think of anything and instantly make it into something fun. You could write a one page book and instantly become rich with how rich your creativity and vocabulary are. Your mind grabs people's attention like a star would if it were displayed in a museum. However, this pile is not about you, but about your future spouse and how they see you as a star.

“When am I going to see you again? Let’s meet again, I really really miss you. I want to clasp our hands together, intertwine them, and feel your breath on my lips from the last kiss we had on our first night out. When can I see you again? You free? I want to hug you and tell you that I love you and we just met.’’

Have you seen Charlie and the Chocolate Factory? If not, I will keep the spoilers to a limit, but a lot of the kids fell into their temptations dealing with the consequences, and Charlie, a boy himself, never did because he was amazed by everything from his poor background. Your future spouse will be amazed only by you, everything around them will be ‘’their’’ temptations. Meaning, they will see only you as the perfect prize and meeting you is their golden ticket. Being with you is their prize, though not in a materialistic or objectified way. For them, it is from pureness and genuineness. You became their excitement; you made them see the world as how it should be with how bouncy and bright your personality is. You made them feel grateful for being alive, to experience things with you, to see the world how you see it, and-

‘’AND I WANT TO LOVE YOU SO FUCKING MUCH THAT WHEN WE MEET AGAIN, I WILL FUCKING BURY YOU WITH ALL OF MY HUGS SO YOU CANNOT BREATHE, GOT IT? You are my shooting star and I want to love you, love you so very much. I want you to become my charm necklace; I want to make it have a star jewel like you. Thank you, thank you.. and thank you, god/gosh, I love you so much.’’

You open your future spouse’s eyes so very much that they feel comfortable being their authentic self. They have been reserved all of their life, feeling scared to open up about who they are because they are from a traditional environment, and that type of pressure has shaped their mindset into what they believe their gender is supposed to be in life. But you have lifted something deep and made them realize there is more to life and that it is okay to be themselves because they will still have people who love and adore them for who they are. So thank you, on my side, for doing that for them.

A lot of you actually relate to them on struggling to be yourself, and some of you still struggle, but remember, every single person is complex. There are more than eight billion people in the world, if everyone was the same, it would be boring. And sometimes boring is okay, and sometimes it is not. But, what is more important is for you to realize how special our quirks can be, and how beautiful we can be if we let it shine. So sometimes, you will not be bubbly and feel as if you wanted to be stoic, then do that. Our personalities are not shaped into one label or category of personality traits, and that’s it. If that was the case, then the word 'complex' would cease to exist. But it exists, and so do you—and your future spouse. Meaning, everyone is complicated and everyone will act differently and that is okay. And sometimes people do not have a lot of layers to themselves for whatever the case is, and that is okay too.

So, go ahead and be the star that you are, because at the end of the day, you can only be your own person, and someone else will be theirs. You are a powerful star that deserves to be loved by them, but also yourself. Ignore those thoughts of insecurities that rise, and push yourself to be a star for yourself.

Channeled song.

Dos Oruguitas - Sebastián Yatra

Masterlist

Pile III.

When you look outside to admire the night sky, or to see what time it is, you always see a star, or stars, twinkling near a moon, whether it is crescent or a full moon. And if you are lucky, you will see the moon shine brighter or become like a blur. But if people were lucky enough to really get to know you, outside of the reputation you hold or the mask you wore, they would see how many layers there are of you. One could say it is similar to a split personality, or others would say you would be a great actor. So would the star be compared to how many stars there are in the world. The real question is, what makes it more fun to hide who you are than let others see you? Is it chaos? Fear, shame? Or the fear of getting hurt again?

When a moon goes through a lunar cycle, it loses some part of its shape, and when you wear so many masks, you lose parts of your personality. But in this circumstance, you can never get yourself back, but the moon can. A star shines brighter, shows its beautiful side, but you cannot because you lose each spark from your personality.

A star and a moon are supposed to coexist, they are supposed to connect; you are supposed to coexist with all of you, flaws and all. Each part of your personality, down to the smallest details, is supposed to coexist. Why despise the moon part of your personality, the darker parts of yourself? Why hide this:

You are such an elegant and creative person. You are so incredibly perceptive, with a cold heart that focuses on logic and moves into the night like a shadow figure. You can solve anything quicker than most people, and you are so intuitive that you can guess any show character’s name or their motive. You move softly around others, surprising them and surprising them with who they are; some would call you a psychic or a therapist with how keen you are with others. In other ways, you are somewhat tricky but lovable, but around your environment, no one is like you, so you have always been the loner. Blending in with others is easier, and losing touch with who you are has made you feel sick about who you are, but at the same time it feels safer.

Why hide someone like this? It’s beautiful. You are beautiful. Your shadow self is beautiful. Your other side is beautiful too. All parts of you are beautiful.

The fear that lingers will be your downfall, do not let it consume you when you know who you are. Stop letting that fear eat you alive, and instead realize how beautiful your shadow self is. As well, as stop hiding it from you, allow those thoughts to be around you, because it is better to be all parts of you. Our shadow self is not what makes us evil, or in other words, a bad person as others have called you. It is what makes us, us, and that is rather a beautiful thing, especially to embrace.

It is time for you to embrace who you really are and let go of the imposter parts of you. My intuition tells me, ''if you do not let go of all the lies you put around you, whom you speak with, those who know the fake you, and the lies you tell yourself, you will go mad and lose yourself in the deepest parts of a void. If you allow others to know all of the fake parts of you, you will, in the end, lose all of them, and all that time spent and connection you made would have been for absolutely nothing. That pain will kill you further if you would have told them. And though, when you do, it will not blossom into something beautiful; you will lose some people, but those who are genuine and understanding will stay with you, and that is more beautiful than the forbidden fruit Adam and Eve ate. Would you prefer to be them and then be pushed onto Earth without the beauty of heaven, or is it better to become parts of a ripe fruit, and that is the only thing you wish to eat? Hear your inner voice and let go of everything. Start to respect yourself.''

Channeled song.

Dos Oruguitas - Sebastián Yatra

Masterlist

Pile IV.

A lot of people are drawn to the words “sun,” “moon,” or “star(s),” but no one is ever drawn to the river that glistens when the moon is out, when the sunset comes up or down, when the star sparkles, and sometimes you can see the shadow of it if you truly focus on it. No one truly focuses on the small details of the river flowing nicely each time so others can notice the greater gesture. No one ever thinks about the river the way others do with those words, and yet, the river is never bothered to let others shine so they know of their grand self. You are not bothered letting others shine so they can feel better for themselves, or if they already know, it does not bother you when they take the spotlight. Because you already know how special and great you are, and you do not need anyone’s validation or comments to boost your confidence. You are already secure about who you are, so why be any of those when you are the calming river itself?

You are someone who prefers to be in the background and to help others when in need despite what others think of you. You prefer to hide your grand gestures, allowing others to question why you would not want others to see the help you gave them. And though some people think it may be an act, you know it is genuine, and that is enough for you. Sometimes, you wonder if it would be better for others to know that you are, in fact, a nice and genuine person, maybe a little prone to being too kind, but at the same time, you know that others could use that against you, and it is better to go along with the reputation you built for yourself, ‘’heartless.’’ The people who know you well question that reputation and sometimes try to make others change their minds, but it never works, and you have already told them it is a waste of time. Because everyone will only see you as that, and when they finally get to know who you are, they will realize they are wrong and that is good enough for you.

You are someone who is already content with yourself, as mentioned, but with everything else. You already know that it takes a long time to change and to heal, or become better for yourself, because you were like everyone else. You used to follow the crowd or believe others about others, so in a way, it makes a lot of sense. Gossip can become addictive for others, until it comes back to bite them and they become the town's new gossip, or if it is with someone they care for. And for you, and the people you know, you are part of the bunch who strays away from the concept of gossip; you have surrounded yourself with people who care for you despite what others think, and it is something you pride yourself in (in which you should). But others think your pride is gross and do not understand the concept of what a healthy friendship and/or relationship is. The environment you grew up in, not a healthy one but rather very.. toxic, shaped you into becoming the same in your past, but as you realize how toxic and evil you became. You decided to change for the better and became a beautiful river that you were deep down inside your heart.

A river never changes, it always stays in the same location, may have others put something into it without the care of the river itself, but the only change is its color. The color of a muddy brown finally being cleaned into a transparent clear blue that calmly streams for the marine animals living in it, the land underneath the water, and so forth, yet it always tries to get rid of the unwanted junk inside. The same can be said for who you are; those unwanted junks are your intrusive thoughts and unwanted memories you try to push back into your past. And though it is beautiful that you were able to clean yourself out of that muddy brown river, it would be better to forgive yourself for the pain you have caused to both you and others, but also what had happened in your past. Because fully healing does not happen if the person does not forgive themselves, and you have changed immensely, so forgive yourself. It is not that you do not deserve to be forgiven (your thoughts), nor is it about being worthy, it is the thoughts of those you harmed, killed, abused, and so forth. And I cannot say what they should say, but all I can say is, “thank you for healing every day and becoming better as much as you can. Your change is incredibly beautiful and rather challenging to do, so you should thank yourself for it as well as learning to forgive yourself. Because that was a long.. long time ago, and instead of wallowing in the guilt (which is understandable), I believe you should accept what happened and use those lessons as an opportunity in your life as of now.”

Channeled song.

Dear Theodosia - Hamilition

Masterlist

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linos-luna · 2 days ago

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Disturbing Fetishes ❣️🔪

Yandere?!Perv!Felix x Reader

Warnings: odd fetishes, manipulation, implied dubcon, implied druging, Yandere?, mention of rape, light smut

_____________

Something about the way he looked at you made you slightly… unnerved. But you brushed it off. Felix was so adorable and seemingly so innocent. I mean, that’s how all his friends described him. Just a sweet cuddle bug! And while yes, he is very much loving, there’s something off about him.

Something that was interesting was when you got hurt. He would eyeball that bruise, scrape, or cut a little too much… he would even touch them if he could. When he did, he’d lightly push on it. He liked the small whine that would leave your lips. But he never took it too far and would stop almost right away when you asked.

So maybe it wasn’t too bad. Maybe you’re just overthinking it. He’s a little weird but so is everyone right?

You slept peacefully on your side, the night quiet and comfortably cool. The blankets rested just below your shoulder, and the loose collar of your shirt revealed your neck and collarbone. As you slept, your boyfriend’s gaze lingered on your neck. He must have woken up by chance and found himself drawn to the scar there, an old one from childhood, long healed but leaving behind a faint, textured mark.

He’d asked before if he could touch it, but you had declined. Your neck was a sensitive spot, and you weren’t ready for that kind of touch yet. Though it bothered him, he tried not to let it show.

But right now felt like the perfect opportunity. Felix reached out, his hand hovering for a moment before finally making contact with the scar. He let out a soft sigh, one that carried both relief and… pleasure? His fingers moved slowly, tracing the textured mark, his breathing growing heavier, his heart racing in his chest.

At first, you didn’t feel anything, lost in the depths of your sleep. Then came a faint warm sensation that felt like a kiss on your neck, yet it was… different. More intense. Unknown to you, after pressing his lips to your scar, Felix began trailing small licks across it, each motion accompanied by quiet, needy moans.

It didn’t take long for the strange sensation to wake you up, leaving you startled and disoriented.

Your eyes fluttered open, disoriented and unsure of what had woken you. The room was dim, but the warmth and the strange sensation on your neck made you stiffen. You turned your head slightly, trying to figure out what was happening, and then you froze.

“Felix?” Your voice was groggy, but full of confusion.

He didn’t stop immediately, his lips still pressed to your scar, his tongue tracing it slowly. When he finally realized you were awake, he pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. His face was flushed, his breathing uneven, and his expression unguarded.

“I-I’m sorry,” he murmured, though his tone lacked conviction. His hand stayed on your shoulder, his thumb grazing the edge of the scar. “I-I couldn’t help myself! It’s… it’s just… I’ve… I’ve been so curious about it, and I-I just wanted to know what it… I just wanted to know…”

“Felix?!” You sat up, pushed him away, and stared at him, unsure whether to be angry, confused, or something else entirely. “I told not to touch there!”

“I know,” he admitted, his gaze dropping. “I-I just…. I just… there’s something about it. About you.” He looked up again, his eyes filled with a strange intensity. “I’m sorry! I-I won’t— mm… I won’t…” he stumbled over his words.

His apology seemed genuine, but his lingering gaze on your neck told you there was more he wasn’t saying. Your heart raced as you tried to process the moment, caught between irritation and the strange vulnerability he was showing you.

“You wanted to know what?” you asked, your tone sharp as you wiped away the saliva from your neck. The sensation left you feeling uneasy, and his silence only made it worse. Felix kept his head down, avoiding your gaze, but you noticed where his eyes had shifted: to his lap.

Your eyes followed, and the sight made you freeze. His pants. He was… excited.

“Felix…” you mumbled, staring in disbelief. “You’re… aroused?”

His cheeks flushed a deep red as he turned his head away, biting his lip. It was painfully obvious how embarrassed he was, but the tension in the air was impossible to ignore.

“What turned you on?” you asked, your brow raised in confusion and disbelief. “My scar? Or… getting caught?”

He hesitated, his voice barely audible when he finally answered, “B-both…”

You stared at him, struggling to process what you had just heard. Your chest felt tight, feeling a mix of emotions… discomfort, confusion, and disgust.

“Both?” you repeated, your voice laced with disbelief. “Felix, do you even realize how weird this is?”

He flinched at your words, his hands gripping the blanket nervously. “I know,” he admitted, his voice soft and shaky. “I know it’s weird. I didn’t mean for it to happen. I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about it. About how soft it looks… how sensitive it must be. And then, when I touched it, I—”

“Felix!” you cut him off, your cheeks burning. “Stop. Just stop!”

He looked up at you, his eyes pleading. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I messed up. I just—”

“You messed up big time!” you said firmly, though your voice trembled slightly. “I told you not to do that. And now… this?” You gestured vaguely toward his lap, feeling a mixture of disgust and embarrassment.

“I-I know! I’m sorry!” He stuttered.

You sighed as you tried to calm down. “I don’t even know what to say right now.”

Silence fell between you, thick and uncomfortable. Finally, you spoke again, your voice quieter. “I need some space. We’ll talk about this later, but right now, I just… I need to think…”

As you got up, your boyfriend was silent while looking at his lap.

“Cmon, go home.” You said while motioning towards the door.

Your boyfriend was gripping the sheets tight as he looked down. He was silent but had an air of… frustration?

“I don’t understand why you won’t let me touch there…” he muttered under his breath. “You let me touch everywhere else…”

As you froze Felix’s words hung in the air like a threat. Slowly, you turned to face him, anger simmering beneath your confusion.

“Felix,” you said, your voice sharp, “this isn’t about everywhere else. It’s about something I told you I’m not comfortable with. And now, after what you just did, you’re seriously questioning why?”

He shot up from the bed, his movements jerky, his eyes flashing with frustration. “Of course I’m questioning it!” he snapped. “How am I supposed to feel when my own girlfriend acts like I’m not allowed to touch her? You say you trust me, but then you put up these stupid walls like I’m some kind of stranger!”

“Felix, calm down,” you said, your voice wavering as his sudden outburst caught you off guard. “I didn’t say that I dont trust you. It’s about boundaries.”

“Boundaries?” he scoffed, his tone mocking as he took a step closer. “That’s such a cop-out. You let me touch you everywhere else, but suddenly your neck is off-limits? Do you even hear how ridiculous that sounds?”

Your chest tightened, a mix of anger and unease swelling inside you. “It’s my body,” you snapped, your voice firmer now. “And I get to decide what I’m comfortable with. You don’t get to guilt me into changing that.”

“Guilt you?” he barked, his laugh cold and sharp. “I’m not guilting you… I’m just pointing out how unfair you’re being! Do you know how it feels to be shut out by someone who’s supposed to love you? I’ve done everything for you, and this is how you treat me?”

Your breath hitched, his words slicing through you. “Felix, this isn’t about what you’ve ‘done’ for me…”

“Oh, don’t give me that,” he snarled, pacing now. “I’ve been patient. I’ve been understanding. I’ve waited for you to open up to me, and for what? To be treated like I’m some kind of pervert for wanting to be close to you?”

“Felix, stop!” you yelled, your voice breaking with frustration and unease. “Y-you’re not listening to me!”

“No, you’re the one who’s not listening!” he shouted, his voice shaking with barely restrained anger. “Do you even care how this makes me feel? Or are your stupid boundaries more important than our relationship?”

His words hit you like a slap, leaving you momentarily stunned. “You’re twisting this,” you said quietly, your voice trembling. “You’re… you’re scaring me…”

Felix froze when he saw the timid look on your face, his anger melting into guilt almost instantly. “Baby… babydoll, I’m sorry,” he said, his tone softening, though there was a strange edge to it.

Tears began to well in your eyes, slipping down your cheeks as you stood there, unsure how to feel. He stepped closer, his voice more pleading now. “Sorry, sorry!” he murmured, pulling you into a tight embrace.

You leaned into him, seeking comfort, but your mind was too clouded with emotion to notice how his hands moved. One slid up to your neck, his fingers brushing the rough texture of the scar with a deliberate slowness. He made a low hum, the sound vibrating against you.

You thought he was trying to calm you, but there was something off about the way his fingers lingered on your scar, pressing and tracing it. His breathing grew heavier, and his hum turned into more of a groan but he was good at hiding it.

“I’ll go now, okay?” Felix said softly, his voice gentle as he stood by the door. Then, with a sudden shift in tone, he added cheerfully, “I’ll bring you breakfast in the morning!” His mood seemed to have done a complete 180, leaving you blinking in confusion.

Still, you nodded, relieved he was agreeing to leave, at least for a little while. “O-okay…” you murmured, grateful for the chance to gather your thoughts.

“Can I get you some water or something before I go?” he asked, his tone oddly considerate.

“S-sure… thank you,” you replied hesitantly, still trying to process his sudden change in demeanor.

Felix left the room briefly and returned with a glass of water, handing it to you with a smile as he slipped on his coat and shoes. “I’m sure your throat’s a bit dry. Make sure you drink all of it,” he said in a low, velvety voice, his smile lingering as he watched you.

You didn’t think much of it. Your throat was dry, and you were thirsty. You drank the water quickly, nodding in appreciation. “Thanks,” you said softly.

“I’ll be going now. I’ll see you later, okay?” Felix said, his eyes watching you as you climbed back into bed. “Goodnight, my little doll,” he added, his voice carrying an unsettling tenderness.

You heard the front door close moments later, and with that, the tension in the room seemed to ease. You lay back in bed, feeling calmer but also slightly… off. Maybe it was exhaustion, you reasoned. But as your eyes began to close, you couldn’t shake the faint thought that the water had tasted a little strange.

Before you could dwell on it further, sleep overtook you. A heavy and almost unnaturally fast sleep.

And as soon as you were out, Felix slipped back inside, closing the door quietly behind him.

“Don’t worry, my darling…” he said softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “I’ll always take care of you….”

———

A few days later, you found yourself on a casual date with Felix. Whatever tension lingered from that night had faded from your memory, or perhaps you had just chosen to push it aside. Felix had been nothing but sweet since, giving you no reason to suspect anything was wrong.

After a night out, sipping wine, sharing laughs, and enjoying each other’s company, the two of you returned to your place for movies and cuddles. You were a bit tipsy, buzzed enough to feel warm and giggly, but still very much aware.

As you got into the bedroom, you let out a contented sigh and flopped onto the bed, stretching out to relax after the crisp chill of the evening air. Felix kicked off his shoes and followed, pausing in the doorway as he watched you sprawled across the bed. Something about the way you looked, so carefree and at ease, sent a spark of excitement through him.

“You coming over now?” you asked playfully, your voice light and sweet, a little moan escaping as you stretched again.

Felix nodded, a smirk tugging at his lips as he approached. “You’re looking cute,” he said, his tone teasing yet low. “Such a cute little doll.”

Your cheeks flushed as you glanced up at him, his words making your heart flutter.

But as Felix stood over you, his gaze lingered. His eyes roamed your form, taking in every detail, the way your shirt hugged your body, the soft flush in your cheeks, and, of course, the scar on your neck. It was uncovered, prominent against your skin, almost calling to him.

He froze for a moment, staring at it. The urge to reach out was strong, the memory of its texture still vivid in his mind. But he held himself back, his hands clenched at his sides, his expression unreadable as he fought his instincts.

You noticed his pause and tilted your head slightly. “Everything okay?” you asked softly, your voice pulling him out of his thoughts.

Felix blinked, his smirk returning quickly as he sat down beside you. “Yeah, everything’s perfect,” he said, though his gaze briefly flicked back to your neck. “Absolutely perfect.”

———

“What movie should we watch?” You asked with a giggle.

“Not sure… thinking about… skipping that part…” he chuckled.

You sat up and made a playful pout. “Aw.”

Felix grabbed your wrist and looked at you with a smirk. “Imagine… what I could do with you…” he mumbled in that deep voice of his.

“What do you mean?” You chuckled while standing, his hand still tightly gripping your wrist.

“I mean… you’re so helpless…” he said lowly, pulling you back down to sit. You resisted, feeling a bit uneasy but laughing it off.

“Baby…” he said while standing, trying to grab your other wrist. “What’s wrong? Scared?” He chuckled.

“Um…” you looked at him with a tilt of your head. Your mind was still fuzzy from the alcohol but there was still some awareness. Instinctually, you pulled back a little but that only seemed to agitate him more.

“Getting away now?” He growled.

“L-lixie…?”

“It’s okay, baby. I like when you struggle. It… excites me.” He chuckled darkly before trying to kiss your lips. In a panic, you shook your head and he instantly pushed you onto the bed.

“Felix! Stop!” You cried out, clarity setting in.

“Babydoll, it’s okay!” He chuckled while crawling over you. “It’s all a game…”

“What game?!”

“I like a little struggle.” He said while roughly grabbing your chin. “Just play along, babydoll~”

You could only look at him in fear as the weight of his body holding you down. The fear in your face and control over you has him aroused and desperate.

“L-lixie…” you whimpered softly.

“I wouldn’t actually rape you, babydoll.” He said while holding your chin. “It’s just a game.” He chuckled, sounding more unhinged by the second. “Oh I just wanna hear you again~”

You trembled as you watched this innocent cuddle bug turn into some maniac.

“The other night… oh the night when you made those noises…” he breathed deeply as if trying to control himself. You could feel his clothed hard on brushing on your thigh. It frightened you just how aroused he was.

“Oh babydoll please…”

“Please what…?”

“For me… can you do it?” He muttered.

“Do what…?”

“Play along…” he replied, sounding more desperate. “Please!”

“W-what?!”

“Scream. Struggle. Act like it… act like well… you know… please.” Your boyfriend pleaded.

“Y-you’re sick!” You stuttered while watching him. “Th-that’s not healthy, Felix!”

“Yes but—!” He desperately grabbed you, pulling your hair a bit which made you cry out a bit.

“Like that! Do more!”

“Felix!” You yelled while looking at him in disgust

Your boyfriend paused, letting go and sitting up. He looked at you with a moment of clarity, realizing how serious this got.

“Lixie… th-this is sick… y-you’re sick…” you stuttered while sitting up.

“I-i… I know…” he turned red and stood up, backing away slowly.

You were actually quite surprised at his admission and looked at him while wiping your tears. “Felix…”

“I don’t know why I’m like this.” He said with a sigh.

“Well…”

“Don’t leave me!” He blurted out suddenly. “I love you so much!”

It was odd just how clingy he was being and you haven’t even been dating for that long.

“Felix—.”

“Don’t!” He pleaded while grabbing your wrists. “I-I can’t live without you!”

He wouldn’t let go and you stood still, afraid of his next move, unsure what he’d do next.

I… I won’t…” you murmured.

He smiled and sighed in relief as he held you, holding back his conflicting desires. It made you uneasy, and made you wonder how long he’s had these weird fantasies. You wondered if this relationship could even last. What if he loses control again?

#kpop #kpop x reader #fanfic #kpop imagines #kpop smut #stray kids #stray kids smut #skz x reader #stray kids x poc reader #stray kids yandere #yandere felix #skz felix smut #yandere skz #skz yandere #kpop yandere #skz felix x reader #yandere stray kids

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mysunshinetemptress · 10 hours ago

Text

Glitter In The Air

Grace Clinton x Y/n Albert

Warnings: Y/n snaps, feeling lost, internal homophobia, not my best but not my worst so…

You try, really you do but Grace either doesn’t notice you like want to be left alone or she simply doesn’t care.

“So what you doing this weekend.” Grace asks a hint of hope in her voice, you’ve shot her down every time she’s asked you to hang out.

You’ve been shutting her down for months, simply stating you have plans with someone else. You don’t you couldn’t you only talk to a handful of players and even it’s a push for you to do that.

But Grace has finally worn you down, you can’t take how her voice sounds so heartbroken and her shoulders sag in defeat her eyes loose their little spark and the way she says her Gs after always sound so sad.

“Nothing.” You say quietly kicking the ball back to her, Grace poses momentarily you’ve never not had plans, she’s never gotten this far.

“Would you maybe want to hang out this weekend, we-you could come over to mine and just chill or we can go shopping or get food or the cinema.” Grace rattles off different things you both can do before realising she needs a response from you.

“Eh yeah your house sounds nice just chill.” You say nervously looking anywhere but at the older girl. Grace nods clearing her throat trying to remain cool as she practically vibrates with excitement. “Yeah perfect cool, Saturday work for you.” You nod “perfect my place at 5 I’ll order food we can just chill and watch a movie.”

You feel sick for the rest of the week , you and Grace alone in her house just the two of you, you curse yourself for not being strong enough to say no, but Grace is so kind and soft you can see it as she runs around your teammates swinging out of them laugh, everyone laughing with her.

As long as you don’t touch her and get her sick it should be ok, you’ll be ok.

You stand on her doorstep hand hovering over the doorbell, you could turn around and leave you think, text her telling her your sick, text her and tell her you fell down the stairs and broke your leg, don’t text her fake your death and move countries, no you can’t she’s to good for that and that’s mean you’re just two friends hanging out nothing more nothing less no need to be so dramatic.

Grace still steps forward to give you a hug every now and then but you always counteract with stepping back. She tries again today as she opens the door but the minute you flinch she stops and offers a sad smile hiding it quickly rubbing her neck and welcoming you in.

The air is tense and you hate it, its your fault. You hate the way the thought follows you through to the living room.

The air is so tense and Grace hates it, its her fault, she didn't mean to make you uncomfortable again, god why does she always make you uncomfortable, you hate hugs she knows this but you're so soft and quite and its all she can think about.

You are all she can think about.

The living room was cozy, bathed in the warm glow of late afternoon sunlight filtering through the curtains. A plush, inviting couch sat facing a large TV, and scattered cushions added to the relaxed atmosphere. Grace had clearly made an effort; the coffee table was clear of clutter, and a faint scent of vanilla filled the air. You perched on the edge of the couch, stiff and awkward, while Grace busied herself in the kitchen.

“Pizza okay?” she called out, her voice slightly strained.

“Yeah, fine,” you mumbled, your eyes fixed on the wall of pictures, arms wrapped around people you recognise as your teamates, her family and some of her friends. You could feel Grace’s gaze on you, and it made your skin crawl. You wished you could just melt into the cushions and disappear.

Grace returned with two cans of soda and a nervous smile. She sat at the opposite end of the couch, leaving a generous gap between you. The distance didn’t ease your discomfort; it only amplified it. You could practically hear the unspoken question hanging in the air: Why are you so uncomfortable?

The pizza arrived, and you ate in near silence, punctuated only by the occasional clinking of cans and the low hum of the TV playing a movie neither of them were really watching. You picked at your food, your appetite completely gone. Every time Grace glanced at you, you looked away, your heart pounding in your chest.

After they finished eating, Grace gathered the empty boxes and cans. When she returned, she hesitated before speaking. “Is everything alright?” she asked softly, her eyes filled with concern.

You shrugged, avoiding her gaze. “Yeah, fine.”

“You don’t seem fine,” Grace persisted, her voice gentle. “You’ve been really quiet.”

You bit your lip, unsure of what to say. The truth was a tangled mess of anxieties you couldn’t articulate. You didn’t want to hurt Grace, but you also couldn’t pretend everything was okay.

“It’s just…” you began, then trailed off, searching for the right words. “I’m not really good at this kind of thing.”

“This kind of thing?” Grace echoed, tilting her head slightly.

“Hanging out,” you clarified, feeling your cheeks flush. “Just the two of us. I… I don’t do it much.”

A flicker of understanding crossed Grace’s face. “Oh,” she said quietly. “I didn’t realize.”

Silence descended again, but this time it felt different. The tension hadn’t completely dissipated, but it had shifted, becoming less sharp, more… understanding.

“It’s okay,” Grace said finally, a small smile gracing her lips. “We don’t have to do anything. We can just… be.”

You looked at her then, really looked at her. Her eyes were warm and inviting, and for the first time that evening, you felt a glimmer of ease. Maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Grace picked up the remote and scrolled through the movie options. “How about a comedy?” she suggested. “Something light?”

You nodded, a small smile mirroring hers. As the movie started, you shifted slightly on the couch, closing the gap between you and Grace just a little. It was a small gesture, but it felt significant. It was a tentative step towards a connection you had been too afraid to make.

As the movie played, Grace occasionally offered quiet comments or chuckled at a funny scene. You found yourself relaxing, drawn into the shared experience. You were still nervous, still self-conscious, but the suffocating anxiety had begun to recede.

Towards the end of the movie, you felt a gentle weight on your shoulder, and the world seemed to collapse in on itsself. You jump throwing yourself away from the girl causing Graces body to fall sideways her head hitting the couch.

"I need to go, I-I'm sorry i-I-I'm so sorry" you stutter not giving the midfielder a second to respond as you race out the door.

You sit in the car unable to move, of course you had to mess it up, you and your sickness. Grace she-she's to good.

The slam of the front door echoed in the quiet house, leaving Grace momentarily stunned. She blinked, her head throbbing where it had connected with the couch. Disorientation quickly gave way to confusion, then a sinking feeling of dread. She sat up slowly, rubbing the back of her head, her eyes fixed on the now-empty doorway.

The image of you recoiling, your face contorted in a mixture of fear and panic, played on repeat in her mind. The mumbled apologies, the frantic escape – it was all a blur, a whirlwind of sudden, inexplicable terror.

Grace’s heart ached. She had thought, just for a moment, that things were finally starting to ease. She had felt you relax, seen the flicker of a smile on your face. And then… this.

She stood up, her legs feeling unsteady. The remnants of your shared evening – the half-eaten pizza, the discarded soda cans, the paused movie on the TV screen – seemed to mock her, a stark reminder of what had just happened.

Back in the car, you gripped the steering wheel so tightly your knuckles turned white. The image of Grace’s head snapping against the couch replayed in your mind, fueling the rising tide of panic within you. You had hurt her. You had scared her. You had ruined everything.

The word “sickness” echoed in your thoughts, a constant, nagging reminder of the invisible barrier that separated you from others. It wasn’t a physical illness, not in the traditional sense, but it was a sickness nonetheless, one that manifested in crippling anxiety and an inability to connect with people on a normal level.

You started the engine, your hands shaking so badly you almost stalled. As you drove home, tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision. You felt a profound sense of shame and self-loathing. You were a mess, a broken thing, incapable of even the simplest social interaction.

Meanwhile, back at Grace's house, she was trying to piece together what had just happened. She replayed the evening in her mind, searching for any clue, any indication that you were about to react so drastically. She remembered the moment your eyes had widened, the way you had flinched away from her touch as if burned.

A chilling thought crept into her mind: Did I do something wrong?

She had been so careful, so mindful of your discomfort. She had avoided touching you, given you space, tried to create a relaxed and comfortable atmosphere. But clearly, it hadn’t been enough.

Grace felt a wave of self-doubt wash over her. Maybe she was just bad at this. Maybe she was too forward, too eager. Maybe she was just… too much.

She picked up her phone, her thumb hovering over your contact. She wanted to text you, to ask you what had happened, to offer her apologies if she had somehow overstepped a boundary. But she hesitated. What if she made things worse? What if she pushed you further away?

She sighed, placing her phone back on the coffee table. She felt lost and confused, adrift in a sea of unanswered questions.

The following days were strained. You avoided Grace at practice, keeping your distance, your eyes fixed on the ground whenever she was near. Grace, in turn, respected your space, but her eyes often followed you, filled with a mixture of concern and sadness.

The team noticed the shift in your dynamic. Whispers circulated, curious glances were exchanged. The easy camaraderie that usually characterized their practices felt muted, replaced by an unspoken tension.

One afternoon, after practice, Grace approached you as you were packing your bag. You tensed, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Can we talk?” she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

You hesitated, your eyes darting around the changing room, searching for an escape. But there was nowhere to run.

You nodded slowly, your throat tight with anxiety. Grace led you to a quiet corner of the gym, away from the prying eyes and ears of your teammates.

“What happened Saturday?” she asked, her voice gentle but firm. “You… you seemed really scared.”

You bit your lip, unable to meet her gaze. The words caught in your throat, refusing to come out.

Grace waited patiently, giving you the time you needed. Finally, you managed to stammer out a response.

“I… I’m sorry,” you mumbled, your voice barely audible. “I didn’t mean to… I just… I panicked.”

“Panicked?” Grace echoed, her brow furrowed. “Why?”

You took a deep breath, trying to find the words to explain the tangled mess of anxieties that plagued you, trying to come up with another lie.

"I-Why did you that-why did you put your head there." You felt your stomach twist with unease as you began to turn everything on her, make it her fault, push her away.

The question hung in the air, sharp and accusatory. Grace blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift in your demeanor. The gentle concern in her eyes was replaced by a flicker of confusion, then hurt.

“I… I didn’t mean to scare you,” she stammered, her voice barely a whisper. “I thought… we were having a nice time.”

“Well you thought wrong,” you snapped, your voice rising in volume. You couldn’t stop the words from spilling out, a torrent of pent-up anxiety and self-loathing disguised as anger. “You just… invaded my space. You didn’t even ask.”

“I…” Grace trailed off, her eyes welling up with tears. She felt a lump forming in her throat, making it difficult to speak. “I’m sorry,” she managed to whisper, her voice trembling. “I didn’t realize it would make you so upset.”

“Clearly,” you retorted, turning away from her. You couldn’t bear to see the pain in her eyes. It was a mirror reflecting your own brokenness, and you hated it.

Grace stood there for a moment, her heart aching. She wanted to reach out to you, to tell you that it was okay, that she understood. But the wall you had erected between you was too high, too impenetrable.

She turned and walked away, her shoulders slumped in defeat. The quiet corner of the gym suddenly felt colder, emptier.

You watched her go, a hollow feeling settling in your chest. You had pushed her away, just as you had pushed everyone else away. You were alone again, just as you always were.

But this time, it felt different. This time, there was a pang of regret, a flicker of doubt. Had you gone too far? Had you ruined any chance of a real connection with Grace?

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tinfoil-jones · 2 days ago

Text

Somewhere out there in the multiverse there exists a Jerk Ford

Not an evil Ford, he's just a massive jerk. To everyone, except (ironically) his own version of Stan.

People didn't exclude him while he was growing up because of his six fingers, but because he was an absolute dick all of the time.

The only reason their high school wanted Ford to go to that fancy college was to send him away, and make it way less likely he would ever come back to Jersey.

Stan still breaks his Perpetual Motion Machine, but this version of Ford chooses to believe him when he says it was an accident, and stands up for him when Filbrick tries to kick Stan out.

He still goes to Backupsmore, this time with Stan (who graduated) in tow, and the only reason he and Fiddleford are 'friends' is because Ford still mathematically proved Fiddlefords theory on the Universe being a Hologram, but he rubs it in Fiddlefords face for not proving it on his own.

Backupsmore University only gives Ford the research grant in hope he'll leave and never come back.

The only reason he takes a deal with Bill is because he's going to build that portal, only to never activate it as a 'SIKE!' on Bill. He doesn't even care he's creating something that would revolutionize science as they know it, he just wants to troll a 'God'.

Stan has to convince (i.e actually beg) Fiddleford to help Ford.

Fiddleford doesn't even accidentally get his head sucked into the portal this time, he leaves because he could only stand Ford for so long before being done (he kept peeling the stickers off the Cubiks Cubes and putting them on different squares so Fiddleford couldn't solve them).

This time Ford goes through the portal, and it breaks, because he accidentally fell asleep in the portal room and got possessed by Bill who tried opening the portal, but Stan had to fight him to stop him, only to accidentally shove Bill!Ford into the portal.

They had a celebration and everything. Stan was the only one in town who didn't go.

Since Stan and Ford were known to be two separate people the whole time, and Stan just reported Ford as 'Missing' and he never took his identity, the townsfolk assumed he'd actually murdered Ford, but they never question it because they're just so glad that he's gone.

Jerk Ford goes out into the multiverse and every single other Ford, even the evil ones, absolutely hate this guy because no one can push their buttons better than, well, themself. He's not even a wanted criminal, because none of the dimensions want him there, they want him to be another dimensions problem.

There's a Ford Hate Club that isn't for hating on all Fords, just this one. Most of it is made up of other Fords.

Canon Ford hates him for being a massive jerk, only for Jerk Ford to tell him that biggest difference between them really is that he chooses to not be a jerk to the one person who matters most to them (i.e their twin brother Stan). The one Ford who appreciates his Stan and it's the Biggest Jerk ever.

Jerk Ford is still a jerk to alternate versions of Stanley, too. It's literally just his own that he's not a jerk to.

Thirty years later when Stan fixes the portal and brings him back, everyone else in Gravity Falls is immediately mad at him for bringing him back, including Dipper and Mabel who dislike him as soon as the glamour of a 'cool space Grunkle' wears off. Although, Dipper already disliked Ford before he even met him because his research journals give advice on cryptids that seems helpful, but is actually the opposite. (Like saying people should definitely and exclusively use water on Gremloblins).

The only reason Dipper wanted to find The Author in this dimension is that he wants to punch him in the face for his trolling.

So when Ford comes out of the portal he doesn't try to punch Stan, in fact he goes in for a hug, only for Dipper to punch him instead as soon as he heard 'The Author of the Journals'.

Stan tries to convince Ford to be nice to Mabel and Dipper; Ford isn't necessarily nice to them, but he isn't as big of a jerk as he could have been, which is a lot for him. So he doesn't purposely tangle all of Mabels yarn, or kill off Dippers character in Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons.

Weirdmageddon still happens, but this time it's Dipper who destroys the snowglobe with the rift because he never wanted to be Fords apprentice, so he never knew what the rift was. He ended up breaking it on purpose because he got so sick of Fords shit that he wanted to break something Ford liked.

The reason they couldn't get the zodiac circle together during Weirdmageddon isn't because of Stan and Ford fighting, but because Ford couldn't stop being a jerk for two seconds and Robbie let go of his hand.

Weirdmageddon ends the same as it did in canon, with Stan sacrificing himself because of Fords metal plate, except this time Mabel and Dipper are even more frantic to bring their Grunkle Stan back, because they don't want him to be a blank slate that their Grunkle Ford would influence and possibly turn into another jerk (Which is something Jerk Ford actually wouldn't do, because he loves his brother for who he is).

Old Man McGucket himself personally funds The Stan O'War II expedition (not just the boat itself but stuff like the passports, paperwork, living expenses, ect.) just to keep Ford on the ocean, as far away from other people as possible.

And this is a sane Steve Jobs -esque Old Man McGucket who was never traumatized by the nightmare realm because of Ford. That's how much of a jerk this Ford is.

Follow Up

#Jerk Ford #Jerk Ford AU #stanford pines #ford pines #gravity falls #grunkle ford #stanley pines #stan pines #grunkle stan #gravity falls au #au #dipper pines #mason pines #mabel pines #fiddleford hadron mcgucket #fiddleford mcgucket #old man mcgucket #bill cipher

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4linos · 2 days ago

Text

when the walls crumble

lee felix x gn!reader

synopsis/request: felix’s stubbornness leads to a fallout with the person who cares about him most. in the aftermath of their argument, he must confront the consequences of his actions and decide what truly matters.

wc: 1341

For weeks, Felix has been pushing himself harder than usual. He has been working 24/7 with the group, practicing, recording, attending meetings, and putting in long hours of physical activity despite his back pain. The strain was becoming clear to you, despite Felix's attempts to hide it.

His usual happy personality became more subdued, his smile less frequent, and he began holding himself in an uncomfortable way, wincing while standing up or sitting down. You, as someone who loves him, observed the little details: the way he'd touch his lower back after long practices, or how he'd neglect breaks, pushing through the discomfort because he didn't want to slow anyone down. But what hurt you the most was the way he ignored any concerns you had.

He was always the one who looked out for everyone else, so seeing him suffer and refusing to listen to his own body seemed like a betrayal of his own well-being. You worried that if he kept going this way, it might lead to something far worse. But Felix, ever determined, refused to admit it. He had this hidden pride, a desire to prove his own worth even if it meant concealing his sorrow. The night of the argument was just like any other in recent weeks. Felix had gotten home from a late practice, dragging his tired body into the living room, exhausted but unwilling to stop. You had dinner ready, but Felix looked distant and deep in his thoughts. You tried to engage him by asking how his day went, but he just gave tired comments. You tried to ignore it, but something inside you snapped. The worry that had been building up inside of you for so long could no longer be suppressed. "Felix, we need to talk," you said, your voice faltering slightly. Felix looked up, slightly confused but not yet really understanding the gravity of the situation. "About what?" he asked, seemingly distracted rather than concerned.

You took a deep breath and, for the first time, let your concerns out. "I'm really worried about you," you added, speaking faster than you planned. "Your back has been bothering you lately but you keep pushing yourself like it's nothing. It isn't nothing, Felix. You're hurting yourself, and I can't keep watching you do it." Felix quickly reacted. His natural instinct was to shut down and conceal his sensitivity. "I'm okay alright? There is no need to worry. You're overreacting," he said, his voice defensive.

But it wasn’t enough. The words you had been holding in for days burst out. “No, it’s not nothing! Felix, you're in pain, and you keep pretending like it doesn’t matter. You think it’s not a big deal because you’re trying to push yourself to the limit what for? So you can impress someone? Or are you doing this for your fans?”

You shook your head, stepping closer, trying to make him understand. “You’re not invincible, Felix. You can’t keep doing this to yourself. I’m scared you're going to hurt yourself in ways that can’t be undone. I can’t just sit here and let you destroy yourself because you won’t listen to me."

But Felix wasn’t hearing it. Instead, frustration poured out of him. “I know my body better than anyone else, okay? Stop treating me like I’m fragile. I can handle this! You don’t get it. I can’t slow down, I can’t—” He broke off, his voice rising. “I don’t want to slow down! This is my dream, my life! I can’t just sit back and stop because you’re worried about me.”

The words hit you like a slap. His persistence, his desire to keep pushing himself, felt like a personal rejection of your concern for him. He was dismissing whatever you said, as if your concern was just an irritation to him. The pain welled up inside you, and before you could stop yourself, the words poured out. "Do you know what, Felix? Fine. Maybe I'm the one who doesn't get it. Maybe I'm too worried. Maybe you're right. You don't need anyone to watch out for you. Maybe you truly do know best, even if it is hurting you!" You took a sharp breath, the anger now fully bleeding into your words.

Felix froze, his body tense as he absorbed the sting of your words. For a long moment, the room was filled with silence, thick and suffocating. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. And with that, you took a step back, your voice quieter but bitter. "So, who am I to say anything? I'm just too worried, right? Someone who has no idea what is best for you. Fine. Do what you want. It's not like it matters anyway."

You stormed out of the room before Felix was able to react, leaving him taken aback and speechless.

The next morning, Felix woke up to the weight of the argument hanging over him. He tried to shake it off, tried to focus on work and rehearsals, but everything felt like a blur. His body ached more than usual, and his mind kept replaying your words. He knew he had hurt you. Deeply. But he didn’t know how to fix it.

At work, he tried to focus on the task at hand, but your face kept flashing through his head, your words becoming louder with each passing instant. You were only trying to help, to make him see that he was worn out, but he had pushed you away. He had been so headstrong, so determined to prove something, that he had neglected to care for the one thing that truly mattered: his relationship with you.

He saw you as he was leaving for a meeting and walking past your desk. You were staring at your screen, eyes red-rimmed and visibly upset, when it hit him like a ton of bricks. You were still hurting, and it was his fault.

Felix approached you gently, his chest tense with regret. "Hey," he whispered quietly, just above a whisper. You didn't look up at first, too proud or hurt to recognize him, but Felix stretched out and gently touched your arm. You looked up, and for just a moment, the vulnerability in your eyes cut through him. "I'm really sorry," he murmured, his voice shaking. "I shouldn't have said those words. "I was just... I was being an idiot. I know you were just trying to help, and I should have listened. I shouldn't have shut you out."

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. "Felix… I just want you to be okay. I don't want to keep watching you hurt yourself when I know you're struggling. I care about you, and I can't just sit there and pretend it's not happening." Felix's stare softened, and he took a step closer, putting his hand on yours. "I care about you, too. I was stupid to push you away. I will take better care of myself, I promise. I don't know what I'd do without you. Please never believe that I don't appreciate you looking out for me."

You sighed, the weight on your chest starting to ease. “I’m just scared, Felix. I’m scared that one day, I’ll watch you do something irreversible, and I won’t be able to stop it.” Felix’s grip tightened, a vow in his voice. “You’ll never have to. I’ll listen from now on. I’ll let you help me. I just… I just need you with me.”

The air between you both seemed to calm. You let out a shaky breath and squeezed his hand back. “We’ll get through this together. But you have to promise me you’ll take care of yourself too.”

Felix nodded, his eyes locked onto yours with sincerity. “I promise.”

You leaned in and wrapped your arms around him in a tight embrace. Felix hugged you just as tightly, his heart lightening with relief. Despite the hurt and the argument, you both had a quiet understanding that would help you navigate the future together.

masterlist

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bookishdreamer28 · 1 day ago

Text

𝑺𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒏𝒆𝒘 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓'𝒔 𝒆𝒗𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒔 ❣

Happy new Year everyone! May this new year bring new goals, new achievements, health, happiness and a lot if inspiration to your life!!

And here's my poly!marauders x reader fic! I had no idea what to write or what was going to be the plot in this one, but since it's new year, I thought of writing something sweet and a bit funny to match the vibe! Hope you'll like it, cause I'll post more fics with these boys ^3^

"Oh, she fell asleep?!" Sirius approached your sleeping form on the comfy couch of your dorm room, and kneeled down next to Remus, which he softly brushed your soft hair through his long fingers.

"Yeah..." Remus replied in a dazed look, as he continued keeping his eyes on you. You didn't even had to do anything and he was already hypnotized by you.

"But it's already 23:30! I was waiting for my new year's kiss!" Sirius all pouty, crossed his arms over his strong chest and James laighed lightly at how childish Sirius could be at times. These boys were just obsessed with you. You are their precious little thing and they can't ever get a minute without wanting your love and affection. Just like you do too with them.

"Sshh! Don't you dare wake her up guys or else I'll punch your guts." He said sternly at them and the instantly turned to you again when he heard a soft whimper. When he made sure that you were still asleep, he got up slowly from his crouched position next to your sleeping form, and went to bring your favorite fuzzy blanket to cover your body.

"She's really something else huh?" James said adoringly as he watched you.

"Our precious little thing." Sirius kissed your forehead and held your hand in his, caressing it gently. Remus came back again and covered you with the blanket.

"Can't believe it's been already a year since we met her. It feels like i was just...supposed to happen, you know? We were meant to be together." Sirius continued and Remus smile softly at his boyfriend's words, placing a kiss on the raven haired boy's lips.

James joined them and all three were there with you, like a strong shield to protect you even in your sleep. Sirius placed a comforting arm around Remus shoulder.

Suddenly your body moved making the boys stop talking.

"Look what you've done! You've woken her up!" He furiously told them and he then changed his angry look into a softer one when his eyes fell on you again.

"But we didn't-"

"Sh."

"Oh don't shush me-"

A groan left from your lips.

"Sweetheart? Are you ok?" His voice low and soft, trying not to scare you in your sleepy state with loud noises. When you didn't replied, Remus got nervous. He knew he was overreacting again, but the nonstop scenarios in his head could calm his nerves.

He shook slightly your body, not caring about ruining your sleep now, since his only concern was to see your beautiful eyes open.

"Remus, just a minute ago you were about to chop our heads off for waking her up! Don't tell me that you start maling scenarios that something is wrong because as you can clearly see she's fine! She probably got a bit tired-" He tried to push his hand away from your shoulder but then a sudden movement caught him off guard as he almost lost his balance.

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!" Your head knocked on Sirius forehead and you both groaned at the impact.

"My goodness you're ok?!" James approached you, with a worried look on his face. You looked up at Sirius touching his forehead and instantly climbed on his lap. His arm instinctively wrapped around your waist and held you.

"I'm so sorry Sirius. I thought-"

"I'm ok pretty baby don't worry about me. Are you ok though?" His fingers traced on your forehead to see if there was a pump forming.

"I'm fine." You chuckled and the sound was like a music to his ears. Not being able to resist, he cradled your face and kissed you like you were the oxygen he so desperately needed.

"Did you have wine before us or something?" James teased and you rolled your eyes at him, which made him pinch your cheek in return softly.

"No! I just felt a bit tired." You yawned and Sirius let you lay your head on his chest, as he placed one hand on the side of your face to keep you close to him.

"Remus? What is it?" James voice broke you from daydreaming with Sirius and turned to look at him. Hsi hand was on his chest and you instantly got up from Sirius lap and went to his side.

"Remi what-"

"Can you please stop scaring me like this?!"

"But i didn't-"

"You'll sleep on my bed tonight."

"Hey she'll sleep on mine tonight!" Sirius angrily said but James pushed him to the side.

"Nope it's me. She's sleeping on mine."

"What I say goes. She'll sleep on mine and that's final." Remus placed you on his legs and hugged your waist tightly. You laughed at how ridiculous he sounded but he pinched the soft skin of your thighs slightly making you flinch and glare at him playfully.

"Stupid dorm rooms having so many beds." Sirius murmured but instead of arguing more, he laid his head on your thighs, placing a kiss on them.

"Remi there's no need to be this dram-"

"Don't make me repeat myself baby." He breathed against your neck, making you squirm in your seat, pulsating with need for more affection.

James sat next you, ans held your hand in his giving it a small lingering kiss.

"I think it's my turn to kiss you now." He mumbled against your lips and you sighed at how perfect felt against yours. Too busy kissing and hugging your boys, you didn't notice how it was already midnight. But that was until the noise of the fireworks outside the room's window could be heard, making you all stood up to take a better look at the magnificent sigh of colorful lights filling the sky.

"Happy New Year my loves!" You happily said as you all shared more hugs and kisses. But in the moment of exchanging wishes and love words, Sirius grabbed your hand and pulled along his side to his bed.

"Sirius what-" the other two boys had now a frown on their faces, and you tried to hold back a laugh.

"Nah ah. She's all mine now." He said and laid you ont top of him making you yelp, as Remus and James rushed in to "save" you. It was all perfect.

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bokutosbabe · 2 days ago

Note

HIYAA i really wanted to send a request for your more than married event 😛 can i request Karasu and 🍑🍦thank you xx

HEYYY!! ofc !

a karasu tabito peachy ice cream :)

જ⁀♡⊹｡° you can hear it in the silence

♡ a/n — for my more than a married couple event!

♡ content — karasu tabito x gn! reader, gn! reader, best friends to lovers, nickname like 'babe' used (once), they are the silliest billies, flirting, oblivious friends to lovers

♡ synopsis — karasu tobito had always just been your best friend, but could this program change that?

When you stepped into the apartment for the marriage simulation, the last person you expected to see lounging on the couch was Karasu Tabito.

He looked up from his phone, his signature smirk appearing the moment he saw you. “Well, well, well. Look who’s my lucky partner.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Tabito? You’re in this program?”

“Surprised?” he teased, leaning back like he owned the place. “What can I say? I thought I’d add ‘model husband’ to my list of talents.”

You rolled your eyes, setting your bag down. “Yeah, that’s a real stretch.”

He laughed, the sound warm and familiar. It was so him—effortlessly charming, with just a hint of mischief.

You and Karasu had been friends for years, ever since middle school. He was the kind of person who lit up every room he walked into, his confidence and humor making him impossible to ignore.

But while most people saw only his cocky, carefree exterior, you knew there was more to him than that. You’d seen him at his lowest, too—nursing injuries, doubting himself, pushing harder than anyone else to chase his dream.

And now, here you were, thrown into a “marriage” with him.

“What are the odds?” he said, still grinning as you unpacked.

“Apparently higher than I thought,” you muttered, trying not to think too hard about how small the apartment was—or how close you’d be to him for the next few weeks.

At first, it wasn’t much different from hanging out as friends.

Karasu made it easy, cracking jokes and treating the whole thing like some elaborate prank. “You know,” he said one evening while you cooked dinner, “we could totally mess with the other couples. Pretend we’re, like, madly in love or something. Really sell it.”

You snorted. “You think you can pull that off?”

He gasped, clutching his chest like you’d wounded him. “I’m offended. I’m very convincing.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Prove it.”

Without missing a beat, he turned to you, his expression shifting into something softer, more serious. “Babe,” he said, his voice low and intimate. “You’re the only one for me.”

You froze, heat rushing to your face. “Okay, stop,” you said, shoving him lightly.

He laughed, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place.

As the days went on, the lines between “pretend” and “real” started to blur.

It was in the little things—how he always made sure your coffee was exactly how you liked it, or how he stayed up late to help you with the program’s assignments, even when he didn’t have to.

And then there were the moments you couldn’t ignore, like the way his gaze lingered on you just a little too long, or how his teasing felt less like a joke and more like a test.

You tried to brush it off. After all, this was Karasu. He flirted with everyone.

But then one night, everything changed.

It was late, and the two of you were sitting on the couch, the glow of the TV casting soft shadows across the room.

“I’m glad it’s you,” he said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

You turned to him, confused. “What?”

He shrugged, not meeting your eyes. “This whole thing. I’m glad it’s with you.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Tabito…”

“I’m serious,” he said, his voice quieter than usual. “I know I act like an idiot sometimes, but…you mean a lot to me. More than I probably let on.”

You stared at him, your chest tightening. “Why are you telling me this now?”

He laughed softly, running a hand through his hair. “Because I’m tired of pretending it’s not true. And because I’m an idiot who doesn’t want to lose his best friend without at least trying.”

“Trying what?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He finally looked at you, his dark eyes filled with something raw and unguarded. “This. Us. Whatever this could be.”

You kissed him first.

It wasn’t planned, and it definitely wasn’t part of the simulation. But the moment your lips met, everything else faded away—the program, the rules, the fear of ruining your friendship.

It was just you in this moment, save for the little point total displayed in your living room going up by 10 points.

For the first time, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, this could work.

The program ended a week later, and you both stood outside the apartment, staring at the door as if crossing that threshold would change everything.

“So,” he said, slipping his hands into his pockets. “What now?”

You smiled, your heart swelling with hope. “Now we figure it out.”

He grinned, his usual confidence returning. “Good. Because I’m not letting you get rid of me that easily.”

You laughed, feeling lighter than you had in weeks.

Whatever came next, you knew you’d face it together.

GOD I LOVE HIM

i hope you liked it!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

#★ · airybcbyy #airy answers asks :)#bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock #blue lock x reader #airy posts #karasu x reader #karasu tabito #tabito karasu #tabito karasu x reader #tabito x reader #bllk karasu #bllk tabito karasu #blue lock karasu #blue lock tabito karasu

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itendtothinkalot · 3 days ago

Text

beomgyu!spiderman au

summary: you and beomgyu have a normal yet budding friendship—well, mostly normal. turns out he's got a bit of a secret, and not just any secret, he's spiderman and well he doesnt want u to find out.

genre: fluff

characters: beomgyu!spiderman x f!reader

words: 4.6

a/n: idk i thought this wld be fun to write

warnings: nothing much

part 2!

It was weird. So weird that it left this hollow ache in your chest every time you thought about it. Beomgyu wasn’t like this—he wasn’t the kind of person who left you wondering, second-guessing. He’d always been so easy to read, an open book with no missing pages. If something was wrong, you’d know. If he had a secret, he’d tell you. But now? Now he was shutting you out, and you didn’t understand why.

You tried to brush it off at first. Everyone gets busy, right? He had a life, you had a life, and it wasn’t like he owed you every second of his time. But standing you up three times in one week? That wasn’t just “busy.” That was deliberate.

And you weren’t mad—you told yourself you weren’t mad. You were just… confused. Hurt, maybe. Because this wasn’t like him. Beomgyu was your best friend. The guy who had spent hours trying to braid your hair after watching some random tutorial, only to give up and suggest cutting it all off instead. The guy who knew all your favorite snacks and always bought extras just in case. The guy who swore he’d never leave you hanging.

Except now he was. And every time you tried to talk to him about it, he’d brush you off with some flimsy excuse, like he couldn’t even be bothered to lie properly.

“I was just late,” he’d say, his voice light, casual, like he wasn’t tearing you up inside.

Late? For three days straight?

It was ridiculous. But instead of pushing, you waited. Because what else could you do? You couldn’t exactly drag the truth out of him, and part of you—an annoyingly soft part—was scared of what you might hear if you did.

So you waited. You sat in your apartment, half-watching reruns of a show you weren’t even interested in, your phone next to you on the couch just in case he called. And he always did, eventually, with that same apologetic tone that somehow made it worse.

“Don’t watch it without me!” he’d said the last time you saw him, practically begging. “Promise me you won’t!”

And you had. You promised. Because that’s what you always did when it came to Beomgyu—you kept your promises, even when he didn’t keep his.

But now it had been weeks since you’d paused that stupid show, and you were starting to wonder if you’d made a mistake. Maybe you should’ve just watched it without him. Maybe you should’ve stopped waiting altogether.

You sighed, slumping further into the couch. “Stupid Beomgyu,” you muttered under your breath.

And yet, you knew the moment he showed up, all of this would melt away. Your frustration, your hurt—it would disappear the second he smiled at you, like it always did. Maybe you were too soft. Or maybe…

Maybe you felt more for him than you wanted to admit.

(You did. You absolutely did.)

But it didn’t matter, right? You shook the thought out of your head. He was your best friend. That was all. Adding feelings into the mix would only ruin things, and you weren’t going to risk that.

Still, the ache in your chest didn’t go away.

You must’ve drifted off at some point because the next thing you felt was someone nudging your shoulder.

“Hey…”

Your eyes blinked open, hazy and unfocused. And there he was, crouching in front of you with that same apologetic look.

“Gyu?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” His voice was soft, quieter than usual. “Did you fall asleep?”

You wiped at your mouth, realizing you’d been drooling. Great. “How’d you even get in? I locked the door.”

His eyes flicked to the side. “You left your keys out front again.”

“I… I don’t think I did.” You frowned, sitting up and pulling your blanket tighter around yourself. “And why’s the window open? I thought I closed it.”

“You probably forgot.” His voice was quick, dismissive.

You narrowed your eyes but let it slide. “I guess. So, where’ve you been?”

“Just out,” he said, avoiding your gaze.

“Out where?”

“The grocery store,” he muttered. “You know… stuff like that.”

“Grocery store?” You looked him up and down. “Where are the groceries, then?”

His laugh was awkward, almost forced. “Why the interrogation? I thought we were watching our show.”

“Maybe we would be if you actually showed up on time,” you shot back, the words sharper than you intended.

“I said I was out!” His voice cracked, a sudden edge of frustration breaking through. “Can we just… watch the show?”

The shift caught you off guard. Beomgyu never snapped at you—not like this. You stared at him, trying to figure out what was going on in that head of his, but his expression was locked tight.

“Fine,” you said softly, scooting over to make space for him on the couch.

He sat down beside you, a little too close, and for a moment, you thought about pressing him again. But the tension in his shoulders stopped you. Whatever was going on, he wasn’t ready to talk about it.

The room felt heavier than usual. The two of you sat side by side on the couch, eyes glued to the screen, but it wasn’t the same. Normally, there’d be sarcastic commentary flying back and forth, bursts of laughter at the ridiculous plot twists, or arguments over which character made the dumbest decisions. But tonight? Silence. The kind that didn’t just fill the air—it seeped into it, cold and suffocating.

The show was playing, but neither of you were really watching. The images moved, the characters spoke, but your mind was elsewhere, and you were sure his was too.

You stole a glance at him. His face was slightly turned away, hood pulled over his head like he was trying to shield himself from the world—or maybe from you.

And then the words slipped out, quieter than you intended.

“Are you sick of me?”

Your voice was so soft it barely felt like your own, but it cut through the silence like a sharp knife.

Beomgyu froze. For a moment, he didn’t move, didn’t even breathe. Then he turned to you, just slightly, still not meeting your eyes.

“What?” His voice cracked. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “No. Never. Why would you even think that?”

You shifted, pulling your knees to your chest and hugging them tightly. “Because… because you’ve been avoiding me like the plague. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice? You’re kind of my best friend, Beomgyu.”

Your words hung in the air, raw and vulnerable.

“I know,” he said quietly, his voice laced with guilt. “I know, and I’m sorry.”

But he still wouldn’t look at you. His eyes stayed fixed on the screen, his hood casting a shadow over his face.

That’s when you noticed. He hadn’t taken it off—not once since he arrived. Beomgyu never kept his hood up indoors. He hated it, said it made him feel stuffy.

“Beomgyu,” you said softly, sitting up straighter. “What’s going on?”

He shook his head, pulling the hood tighter around his face. “It’s nothing. I just—can we not do this right now? Please?”

Your chest tightened. The Beomgyu you knew was open, even painfully so at times. He wore his emotions on his sleeve, never hesitating to share what was on his mind. But now? He was closed off, guarded in a way you’d never seen before.

And it scared you.

You didn’t think. You just moved closer, scooting toward him until your knees brushed against his. Your hands found his cheeks, soft but firm as you turned his face toward you.

“Beomgyu…” Your voice wavered, your heart sinking the moment his eyes met yours.

Your breath caught. His face—the left side—was a mess. Swollen, raw, the kind of bruising that made your chest ache just looking at it. It wasn’t just a scrape or a tumble. It looked angry, like it had a story you didn’t want to hear.

You swallowed hard, forcing down the gasp that threatened to escape. He didn’t need that right now. Instead, you steadied your voice, though your hands trembled slightly.

“What happened?”

He tried to look away, but your hands held him there, gently but firmly.

“Nothing,” he mumbled, barely above a whisper. “I fell—”

“Bullshit.” The word came out harsher than you intended, but you didn’t care. “This doesn’t look like a fall, Beomgyu. Not even close.”

You could feel it now—the sting of tears threatening to spill. Everything from the past few weeks was bubbling up: the missed hangouts, the lies, the hood, the silence. And now this.

“Did someone do this to you?” Your voice cracked, barely holding it together.

He hesitated. His jaw tightened under your palms, and for a moment, you thought he’d lie again. But then he exhaled, defeated.

“No. I mean… yes.” He paused, his voice faltering. “I mean… kind of.”

Your brows furrowed.

“What do you mean kind of?” Your voice cracked, rising just enough to betray the knot tightening in your chest. “Beomgyu, what’s going on? Who did this to you?”

He sighed, pulling back slightly, your hands falling to your lap. “It’s nothing,” he muttered, his voice low. “It’ll heal in no time.”

“Beomgyu—”

“I’m fine,” he cut you off, avoiding your eyes.

And then—

“BREAKING NEWS!”

The sudden burst of sound from the TV made you both jump, your heads snapping toward the screen in unison.

The anchor’s voice was urgent, almost breathless. “Spider-Man vigilante almost gets caught in bank robbery two roads ahead from West Avenue earlier tonight. Witnesses report seeing him injured but still managing to escape authorities…”

“Look at how messy the world is. God, I can’t even fathom if you were out there doing stupid shit like this,” you sighed aloud, rubbing your temples and covering your face with your hands, the weight of the week catching up to you.

Beomgyu gulped audibly. “I–”

You didn’t hear him. Your eyes stayed glued to the screen, the video playing on repeat. Spider-Man, scraped up, barely getting to his feet, stumbling before launching away into the night. Something about it nagged at you, pulling at a thread you didn’t even know was there.

Instinctively, you grabbed the remote and paused the footage.

Your gaze flickered between the screen and Beomgyu.

Then back to the screen.

Spider-Man's bruise—the one on his face—was in the exact same place as Beomgyu’s.

Your heart stuttered.

You turned to him slowly, eyes scanning him up and down. He wasn’t looking at you anymore; instead, his gaze was glued to the floor, shoulders hunched. His hoodie sleeves were pulled down to his wrists, but now, the faintest hint of color peeked out—red and blue.

“Beomgyu,” you said carefully, your voice low, deliberate. “What are you wearing?”

You didn’t wait for an answer. Before he could react, you grabbed his arm and yanked the sleeve up.

And there it was.

Red and blue, unmistakable.

The fabric of the suit stretched over his skin, torn slightly in places, the bright colors muted by smudges of dirt and—was that blood?

“What. The. Fuck.”

Your words came out in a whisper, barely audible, but the weight behind them was deafening.

Beomgyu finally looked up, his wide eyes meeting yours, panic and guilt written all over his face. “I can explain,” he stammered, his voice trembling.

“You fucking—idiot.”

Your voice cracked as you spat the words, frustration laced with a trembling undertone of worry. You bolted from the living room, leaving Beomgyu staring after you with wide, uncertain eyes. A moment later, you came back, lugging your first aid kit and dumping it unceremoniously on the coffee table.

Dropping to your knees in front of him, you started rummaging through the kit, pulling out antiseptic wipes, gauze, and bandages like a woman possessed.

Beomgyu opened his mouth to say something, but you cut him off with a sharp glare. “Don’t,” you warned, your voice trembling with restrained anger. “Just sit there and let me deal with your idiocy.”

You grabbed his chin, pulling his face toward you. His eyes searched yours, but you avoided his gaze, too focused on the task at hand. The bruise on his face looked even worse up close, a deep purple that made your stomach twist in knots.

“You’re so stupid,” you murmured under your breath, the anger bubbling to the surface as you dabbed at the cut on his cheek with an antiseptic wipe. He flinched slightly, and you pressed harder, your hands trembling.

“An idiot,” you added, almost to yourself.

Beomgyu sighed, resigned to the scolding. “I know,” he mumbled.

You scoffed. “Putting yourself in danger to protect who? Huh? People who don’t even give two fucks about you?” Your voice cracked again as you pressed a little too hard with the wipe, making him wince. “You’re an idiot for doing this to yourself.”

“The biggest idiot I know,” you finished, your voice softer now, tinged with a mix of anger and worry.

Beomgyu chuckled, the sound low and almost sheepish. “You give a fuck about me,” he muttered under his breath.

Your hands froze. You looked up at him, narrowing your eyes. “What? Are you trying to say you’re doing this because of me? Because I didn’t ask you to do any of this. In fact, I didn’t even know you had spider-fucking powers.”

His lips quirked into a faint smile, amused despite the pain. “No, that’s not what I meant. I just—”

“Don’t,” you cut him off, shaking your head. “Don’t try to justify this. You scared the hell out of me, Beomgyu.”

Beomgyu watched you, his smile lingering as he took in your flustered state. This wasn’t how he imagined you’d react when you found out. In his head, you’d be awestruck, maybe even impressed. Maybe you’d finally see him as more than just your idiot best friend.

But this? The anger, the worry etched on your face, the way your hands shook as you patched him up—it wasn’t what he expected. And yet, somehow, it made him feel warm inside.

“You’re so mad at me,” he said, the corners of his lips twitching upward.

“Damn right I am,” you snapped, tying off the bandage a little too tightly.

“You’re mad because you care,” he teased, his voice soft, almost playful.

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks flushed slightly, betraying you. “I’m mad because you’re a dumbass,” you shot back, but your voice had lost some of its bite.

Beomgyu laughed, and for a moment, the tension eased. Despite everything, despite the bruises and the secrets and the sheer absurdity of the situation, you couldn’t help but smile faintly. Because, as much as you hated to admit it, he wasn’t entirely wrong.

You dabbed the alcohol-soaked cotton ball gently on his bruised cheek, your tongue poking out slightly as you focused. Your brows knitted together in deep concentration, and every time he flinched, you did too, wincing like you could feel his pain yourself.

Beomgyu bit his lip, trying to stifle a smile. Even in the middle of this mess, you looked so ridiculously cute, so endearingly worried. He wanted to tell you to stop fussing, but honestly, he didn’t want this moment to end.

“Does it hurt?” you asked softly, your voice full of genuine concern.

“No,” he lied, shaking his head.

You squinted at him suspiciously. “How about this?”

Before he could register your words, you drove your knee into his groin.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” he yelped, doubling over in pain.

You crossed your arms, glaring down at him as he clutched his stomach. “Hurts, doesn’t it? That’s how I feel every single time you’re out there fighting God knows what,” you snapped, your voice trembling with anger and worry.

Beomgyu groaned, still catching his breath, but he couldn’t stop the faint smile creeping onto his face despite the unimaginable pain. “You’re insane,” he muttered, still grimacing.

“And you’re an idiot,” you shot back, your arms still crossed, but your voice softened slightly.

“I’m fine,” he said after a moment, straightening up as best as he could. “I’ll be fine.”

“Beomgyu, you don’t get it,” you said, your voice breaking now as the worry in your chest spilled out. “Sure, you’re fine now. Sure, you’ll be fine tomorrow. But these people…they’re getting weirder, stronger. Yesterday it was a bank robber. And you saw the news two weeks ago—the Avengers are fighting aliens from outer space!”

He stayed quiet, his gaze dropping to the floor.

You took a shaky breath, blinking back tears. “We’re just kids, Beomgyu. From a small-town neighborhood. You’re out here fighting things you shouldn’t even be near. What happens when you come up against something you can’t handle?”

He looked up at you then, his face serious, but there was something tender in his expression too. “I can handle it,” he said softly, his voice steady.

You shook your head, biting your lip. “You don’t know that.”

Beomgyu hesitated for a moment before reaching out, his hand brushing against yours. “I’m not doing this because I want to,” he admitted. “I’m doing it because…because if I don’t, who will? If I can stop someone from getting hurt, then isn’t it worth it?”

Your heart ached at his words, but you couldn’t bring yourself to argue. Because as much as you hated it, deep down, you knew he believed what he was saying.

“Beomgyu,” you began, your voice trembling as you tried to steady the whirlwind of emotions inside you. “The people you’re saving out there…they mean the world to the people who love them. I get that. But you—” your voice cracked, and you took a shaky breath. “You mean the world to me.”

His eyes softened, the guilt in them deepening with every word you spoke.

“It’s not that I don’t care about what the fuck’s been happening with the world, but when they look at you, they see a hero,” you continued. “But…when I look at you, I see my best friend. The person who’s been there for me through everything. I can’t let you get hurt. I just… I can’t.”

Your words hung heavy in the air, and for a moment, all he could do was watch you, his lips parted as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

“I’ll be careful,” he said finally, his voice soft but steady. “I promise. I’ll be here. Always.”

You stared at him, searching his face for something—certainty, reassurance, anything to make you believe him. “Can I count on it?”

“What?” he asked, taken aback by the raw vulnerability in your voice.

“Can I count on your promises?” you whispered, your hands clutching each other tightly, like you were holding yourself together. “Because if anything—and I mean anything—ever happens to you, I’d feel like it’s on me. For not stopping you. For not doing enough to keep you safe.”

Beomgyu’s heart broke at your words, at the way your tears glistened in your eyes but refused to fall, as if you were fighting against your own pain for his sake. He stepped closer, his hands reaching out to gently take yours.

“Nothing’s going to happen to me,” he said, his voice filled with a quiet determination. “You don’t have to carry that. It’s not on you. This is my choice, and I’ll do everything I can to keep that promise to you. To always come back. To always be here.”

You wanted to believe him, but the fear in your chest wouldn’t let go. Still, you nodded, swallowing back the tears that threatened to spill.

“Just… don’t make me regret this,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

“I won’t,” he said, squeezing your hands gently. “I swear.”

But as much as you wanted to hold onto his words, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of everything: that no promise could shield him from the dangers he could face.

It had been a few hours, and all Beomgyu and you had done was lie on the couch, wrapped in each other's arms. Maybe a few tears here and there, mostly from you. Well, all from you, while Beomgyu kept insisting he'd be fine. It was a cycle of reassurance before things finally started to calm down.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" you asked, scratching the back of your neck, your voice quiet. "I thought we shared everything."

Beomgyu chuckled, clearly not taking you too seriously. "Well, look at how you reacted. Not too well, by the way."

You shot him a glare, not backing down. "What if you were in my shoes? You’d be telling me to take that suit off the second you found out."

Beomgyu smirked, clearly amused. "Well, that's because you have no athletic ability—"

You rolled your eyes. "The only reason you have athletic ability is because you got bitten by a radioactive spider. So... who’s really the winner here? Hint: it's the spider."

Beomgyu’s smirk faltered as he laughed softly, shaking his head. "Okay, you’ve got a point there. But still, it’s not about athleticism. It’s about being able to do something, anything, to make a difference."

You sighed, a little exhausted but grateful for the lighthearted moment amidst everything. "Just promise me, okay? No more secret superhero acts without telling me first."

His tone softened, the playful edge fading as sincerity took over. "I promise. Well, unless you don't pick up the phone and someone's getting robbed. I can't just sit back, right?"

You raised an eyebrow. "I trust you with some small-time bank robber armed with a knife or whatever, but an alien threatening to destroy Earth for eternity? That's a little different.”

Beomgyu’s grin returned, though there was a glint of seriousness behind it. "Okay, okay. I get it. Aliens are a little… above my pay grade," he teased, nudging you gently.

You crossed your arms, leaning back into the couch. "Exactly! See, now we're on the same page."

"Fine," he sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes. "I’ll leave the big, world-ending catastrophes to the professionals." He paused, then added with a smirk, "But if there's ever a small-time villain with a bad attitude, I’ll be there. I can't resist a good bank robbery."

You shot him a playful glare. "Just remember, you’ve got me to answer to if you get yourself killed trying to stop some thief."

"Wouldn’t dream of it," he said with a wink, though there was a hint of seriousness beneath the playful gesture. "Also," he muttered, "have I told you how Iron Man's basically mentoring me?"

"The Kang Taehyun? Get your head out of your ass, Beomgyu."

"Oh, I’ve got him on speed dial! Watch this." Beomgyu pulled out his phone and dialed a number, putting it on speaker. The phone rang for a while before abruptly cutting off, the screen showing that the call had been declined.

"Well... he might've been busy. I mean, he's Iron Man." Beomgyu shrugged with a grin, clearly trying to mask his embarrassment.

You rolled your eyes. "You do realize I don't care about this whole suave superhero life you're living, right? I'm mostly concerned about your safety."

Beomgyu raised his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, but if Mr. Kang Taehyun knocks on our door tonight, I'll just tell him to beat it. My girlfriend doesn't care."

"Girlfriend?" You raised an eyebrow, giving him a pointed look.

"Did I say girlfriend? I meant best friend. You know, because you're a girl and all…" Beomgyu chuckled nervously, quickly turning his face away from you.

“No, you said girlfriend,” you teased, raising an eyebrow. "And don't think I didn't catch that."

Beomgyu stiffened, his face turning a little red as he tried to play it off. "I—uh, I meant best friend! You know, because you're a girl and all... I—I’m just—uh, kidding. Obviously."

You crossed your arms, leaning in with a smirk. "Are you sure about that? Because it sounded like you were already claiming me as your girlfriend, Beomgyu."

“Okay, and what about it?” Beomgyu’s voice softened, his playful smirk turning into something more serious. “Let’s be real, we were this close to telling each other we liked each other anyway. So why not skip the whole confessional part and get to the point? Let’s date.”

You stared at him for a moment, unsure if you were hearing him right. The air between you felt different now, charged with something you hadn’t expected.

"Wait, are you—" You stopped yourself, suddenly self-conscious. "You’re serious?"

Beomgyu leaned back, his eyes not leaving yours. "Yeah, I’m serious. I don’t want to keep pretending like I don’t care about you more than just... this." He motioned between the two of you, his voice growing softer, yet full of conviction.

For a moment, all you could do was breathe, trying to process his words. But then, the feeling you’d been ignoring for so long bubbled up, and before you could stop yourself, you found yourself smiling.

“This is how you’re going to ask me out? Looking like Scar from The Lion King and telling me to date you while using that tone on me? This is almost too romantic,” you said, dripping with sarcasm.

Beomgyu blinked in mock offense, throwing his hands up dramatically. “Hey, Scar’s got style! I can’t help if I’m channeling his energy right now. And for the record, I wasn’t angry—I was being passionate.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to keep a straight face. “Oh, passionate, huh? So now I’m supposed to swoon over your villainous charisma? Really selling it.”

He rolled his eyes playfully but then leaned in a little closer, his expression softening. “Look, I’m not great with words, but if you want the long, drawn-out confession, I can do that too. But you already know how I feel. I care about you. More than anyone else. So... what do you say?”

You took a deep breath, letting his words settle in, the sarcasm fading as your heart did the talking. "Well, when you put it like that...I kinda wanna hear the long, drawn-out confession.”

Beomgyu grinned, his eyes lighting up as he straightened up. “Alright, alright, if you insist.” He cleared his throat dramatically, then looked at you with all the seriousness he could muster, though a playful spark lingered in his gaze.

“I’ve spent countless nights trying to figure out how to say this. Should I tell you how every time I see you, my heart races? Or how I can’t help but smile whenever you walk into the room, like everything’s right in the world? Maybe I should mention how I think about you more than I care to admit, even when I’m supposed to be saving the city,” he said, each word sincere, though he tried to mask it with his usual humor. “But let’s get to the point. I care about you more than anything, and I think it’s about time I stopped pretending like I’m okay with just being your friend. So... what do you say? Will you be my girlfriend?”

“If you’ll take me as your girlfriend, then yes.”

Beomgyu's heart skipped a beat at your words, and for a moment, he forgot to breathe. He stared at you, eyes wide, as if processing what you had just said.

A grin slowly spread across his face, softer than his usual teasing smirk. "I think I can handle that. Might be a little tougher than fighting bad guys, but if I can take them on, I can handle you, right?"

You rolled your eyes, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "Oh, so now I'm your biggest challenge, huh?" you teased, raising an eyebrow.

Beomgyu smirked, his gaze softening as he leaned in a little closer. "You’re definitely the toughest one," he said, his voice low and sincere, "but I think I'm up for it."

"Well, good luck," you whispered, your voice suddenly quieter, the teasing giving way to something a little deeper. "You’re gonna need it."

part 2!

#txt oneshot #txt fic #txt x reader #txt fanfic #txt fluff #txt imagines #txt scenarios #beomgyu x reader #tomorrow x together #choi beomgyu x you #choi beomgyu au #choi beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu fanfic #beomgyu au #beomgyu fic #beomgyu oneshot #beomgyu!spiderman

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tojisth3rdwife · 2 days ago

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JJK men as content creators

Toji: very unserious fitness vlogger/foodie

Toji was no stranger to exploitation for financial gain. Nor did he have any shame over it. The idea to start making content stemmed from people approaching him in the gym for advice after seeing his impressive physique.

He wasn't much of a talker, although his dry sense of humor became his trademark along with his abs, so the majority of Toji’s content consisted of workout and nutrition advice. None of it he recommended anyone do since he wasn't a professional, stating that if it didn't work for you, don't go blaming him for it. One of his most popular segments was when he went to different restaurants in the area for food reviews on his cheat days. When owners noticed how a position review from him brought in a lot of business, they stopped charging him meals if he ever returned. And we all know how much Toji loved that.

"Alright, listen up. You want results? It’s not about fancy machines or trendy diets. It’s about putting in the work and pushing your limits. No shortcuts. Just grit and grind. Today, we’re hitting those weights hard and showing those excuses the door. Let’s get it."

Nanami : cooking/ASMR

Upon first impressions, one would think Kento wasn't the type of person who uses social media. He had Facebook like most millennials and has an Instagram but barely uses it. He wasn't the type to share his life with the world in that way and found the concept too invasive and troublesome for him to be bothered with. “What the point of telling strangers what I'm doing? I have no interest in what anyone else does.” he’d say.

But one day after allowing one of the teachers at Jujutsu High to try one of his homemade baked creations, it was suggested that he had his cooking show. Noting that he has the wholesome ‘husband/boyfriend’ aesthetic going for him, as well as a voice that sounded like a hug from behind after a long day at work. Kento started his channel slowly walking viewers through his favorite recipes , as well as some new ones he’d been meaning to try, while speaking gently into a highly sensitive mic that added an ASMR element to every video.

He doesn't show his face, feeling the anonymity made him most comfortable to be himself, but the way his audience swooned over the fixed view of him in his button-up and apron with the sleeves rolled up his veiny forearms, or his deft hands/fingers as he used a knife or kneaded dough.

Kento earned himself a whopping 400k subscribers in less than a year.

"Welcome back, everyone. Today, we're going to create something simple yet satisfying. Just listen to the gentle sound of the flour as it sifts through my fingers... The perfect blend of precision and comfort. Let’s start our journey into baking together, one soft whisper at a time."

Geto - podcast bro , the toxic kind

We all know with the global pandemic came the need for creative streams of income. Especially via social media. With somewhat of a platform of his own, being a cult leader and all, Suguru was approached by his daughters with the idea to reach more people by starting a podcast. Skeptical at first, Geto wasn't very enthusiastic about the idea of getting in front of a camera just to talk for an hour.

But with his dashing good looks, easygoing personality, and controversial views, it was no surprise that he amassed such a fanbase overnight. His show consisted of him tackling hard subjects, discussing world news, and hot topics, reading fan mail, and offering his candor, as well as having the occasional guest that may or may not know what they got themselves into.

"Welcome back to the show, everyone. Today, we’re diving deep into the topics no one wants to touch..the uncomfortable truths and the gray areas that challenge our perceptions. Let’s be real: society loves to paint everything in black and white, but the reality is far more complex. So, buckle up as we unpack some hard-hitting ideas that might just make you rethink everything. And remember, if you can’t handle the heat, youre probably a monkey."

Gojo- vlogger, travel, fashion, aesthetic, hauls.

Being someone who comes from money, old money at that, Satoru has access to more cash than he knows what to do with. So it's no surprise that outside of work( and sometimes for work), he spends his days traveling and shopping.

Vlogging came easily for him since he enjoyed talking about himself so much anyway, and with an audience so invested in his daily life, Satoru recorded everything. Him waking up. His skin/hair routine. What he ate in a day. Going on missions. Comedic skits with some of the first years who would participate. Travel vlogs and clothing hauls. There was a little bit of something for everyone on his page.

“Whats good my faves, its ya boy Satoru..back at again with another clothing haul. Im fresh off the plane from when I was Paris for fashion week, link to that vlog in the top right hand corner, and man am I jet lagged. But I wanted to show you all what I brought back while I have the time..”

Megumi- gamer/streamer on twitch.

After a talk with Gojo about him needing to find things to do outside of trying to advance as a sorcerer, Megumi picked up video games as a hobby. He was gifted a gaming PC and a PS5 by his mentor and began playing to blow off some steam after training. When he was injured after a mission, Megumi had not much else to do. Yuji was the one who suggested he stream on Twitch after watching him beat an entire game that took most people days in one night, praising him on his skills and suggesting letting others watch him play too.

After a while, his obsessive need to be good at everything he tries turned into him becoming one of the top-watched gamers. His dry personality and snide comments made for entertaining dialogue during game play and he often would give his critique on the game once he’d beaten them. He’d even get chances to be a beta player for unreleased game demos.

“The graphics were ok. Combat mode is a little glitchy but overall it’s a decent game. If this is just the demo, I’m interested in what they’ll do for the full game release. Otherwise I gave it a 7 out of 10.”

Sukuna- reactions

This started as a joke when his nephew wanted him to react to some viral trend and while the king of curses was rarely impressed, his archaic way of expressing himself was what made people most interested in his opinions.

Sukuna began a series of reactions where he sat upon his throne, gazing at the camera with all four eyes blazing with contempt and boredom as he watched viewer recommendations. Those ‘try not to laugh’ challenges were his most viewed.

If something managed to make him smirk or even chuckle, he gave it 4 thumbs up and would congratulate the OP for their talents in entertainment. Majority of his audience was comprised of women between the ages of 25 and 40. He acts like he has no clue why.

"This is, without a doubt, the most extravagant display of foolishness I've ever witnessed in my life. Yet, I recognize that many humans find cats charming and entertaining, so I suppose this video could be seen that way. Regardless, it's utterly pathetic. On to the next video..."

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fourkisses · 14 hours ago

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i stare at the crash (it actually works) ✷

a cs55 written-smau series where . . .

carlos sainz signs with porsche after getting ditched by ferrari only to find himself in a heated rivalry with his teammate, the only female driver on the grid. oh, and did i mention she's also his ex-girlfriend?

pairing: carlos sainz x fem!porsche driver!reader

warnings: words. lots of words.

a/n: i may or may not have been missing in action for the past six months because of college (really deeply sorry for that.) anyhoo, here's part three. i hope u enjoy :)

ᯓ★ PART THREE: THE PROBLEM

Porsche F1 Headquarters | Monday, 01:38 PM

“You absolutely cannot race each other on the track from now on,” Reuben, Porsche's team principal, calmly announces.

You hung your head low, sinking lower on the couch. Carlos who is seated across you can only clench his jaw in response.

You two have been called in his office today after the debrief with the team. Everyone’s eyes were on you as you both walked outside the boardroom like two high school students who just got called into the principal’s office.

“If you two keep performing like this, then it would be greatly detrimental and dangerous not only to the team but to your safety as well.”

The tension in the room is manageable, but the embarrassment? Deafening. The guilty silence is so loud you think you’re in one of those mental torture rooms you keep seeing on the internet, with all the white walls and no windows. Then again, you thought to yourself after remembering all the stressful calls and negotiations done in this room, that yeah, it’s kind of like that.

“I’m sorry if I’m going over the line but I just have to ask this,” Reuben's voice snapping you back to reality, “but do you have some personal, err… how do I word this. . . grudges? Against each other?”

Instinctively, you look up to Carlos. His eyes meet yours. You both hold your gaze, determined to not lose this staring game. In the end, the Spaniard was the first one to break the contact. You both turn to the German who was sitting on his desk, answering his query at the same time.

“Sí.”

“No.”

Your gaze whips back to Carlos’ direction, glaring at him. Fucking hell. “No, Ru, we don’t.”

“Are you sure? You know I admire you both and I really believe in each one’s talent, but whenever you’re on track.. you just forget everyone else and the only competitor you see is each other.

“I get it that you both have a chance for the championship, but you know why Max is still the one leading?”

He looks at you, then at Carlos, before sighing. “It’s because you’re busy taking each other out instead of outperforming the other teams.”

Carlos comes to his own defense. “I’m not the one who always pushes their teammate off track when the race starts.”

You scoff. “It’s not my problem he keeps bottling his pole positions.”

“It’s because you keep pushing me off the track!”

“I don’t! You’re just stupid to not see that there’s no space left! It’s a fucking racetrack, not a public highway, so why would you squeeze yourself when there’s no spa–”

“Ay, come on! You always do that even in the middle of the race! Remember Imola? Yeah, and you didn’t even take penalty for that!”

“What, so you decide to shove me into the wall yesterday? Because of that?!”

“How many times do I have to tell you that it was an accident! It was in a corner and I’m trying to turn but then you try to overtake even though you can clearly see there was no spa—”

“We’re the only cars in that area! Don’t give me that no space shit!”

“So it’s okay if you use it to reason out but if I do it’s not?!”

“Oh mein gott, stop it, both of you!” says Reuben, his voice echoing throughout the whole room, interrupting you and Carlos in the middle of your. . . conversation.

“See? This is what I’m talking about! You two act like you’re a divorced couple fighting for your pet dog’s custody! And it’s worse on track! Did you ever review what happened yesterday?”

Of course you did—with Carlos, during the post-race debrief earlier. But what the team doesn’t realize is that no matter how many times they replay every moment from the race, they’ll never uncover the real reason it happened. Yesterday's issue wasn't on the track. It happened outside. In the the pit lane, specifically.

Pit Lane, Silverstone Circuit • Race Day | 07:39 AM

You've heard of stories about couples who work with each other.

Usually they don't end well, that's why people do not recommend doing so. Don't shit where you eat or something like that, as some would say. Something with blurring boundaries and the un-seperation of work from personal life or whatever.

But stories about ex-couples who work with each other? Rarely spoken of. Maybe it's because people usually avoid even just breathing the same air with the person they once went down for (figuratively and literally), so the chances of a fire burning the entire workplace is low. But the scarcity of information regarding the comedic potential of this absolute shitshow begs the question that half of the human population (okay, maybe less) gives a fuck about: How does it end?

Well, good thing you're here to tell your own first-hand experience.

You hear the squeaking of approaching footsteps against the floor. Not long after the sound comes to a stop as the owner of those footsteps arrive to stand beside you, shoulder-to-shoulder.

Carlos clears his throat. Despite and in spite of you not looking in his direction, you just know it's him. And despite and in spite of his presence, you continue bathing in your perpetual state of calm, keeping your gaze glued to the track in front of you.

“So,” he says, revving up a conversation. “You're gonna fly with the Ferrari boys the rest of the season?”

You shrug your shoulders. “Looks like it.”

“Max told me to invite you to fly with us sometimes.”

Really? You turn to face him but you see his eyes already staring at you in anticipation, waiting for a response. Talk about catching you off-guard. “Can I bring Lew?”

Now Carlos was the one caught off-guard. Why the fuck would you ask to bring Lewis?

In your defense, Lewis doesn't have that many close friends inside the track. You're just playing shepherd here, herding the sport's sheeps inside one pen so they can mingle with each other.

“Oh... uhm... I— he ... Max..” he starts to fumble, his eyes to the floor, to your side, up the sky, everywhere except meeting yours. He scratches the tip of his nose before replying.“Err, Max only mentioned you so.. I don't know if.. Lewis can, you know.. come.”

You cross your arms, turning your body back to the track in front of you. Welp. That was awkward. “Then tell Max I said thanks, but no thanks.”

Carlos' face contorted. So much for making amends, he thought.

“What's up with you and Lewis anyways? Are you two, like, you know, together?” he asks coolly, but deep inside he's dying to know. Keep it together, hijo de puta.

You're eyebrows knit in confusion. “What's with the questions?”

“Nothing! It's just that you two always hang out, you know... having your own little world and.. all that...” he trails off.

”And why does that concern you, Carlos? You're my teammate, not my boyfriend, remember?”

Carlos is taken aback by your blunt statement. The fuck? “So what if I'm not your boyfriend anymore? Dios mio, Y/N, maybe I'm asking because you're friends with the person who took my seat? And that you hate me? And we're fighting for the title? And only God knows what things you two are plotting against me?”

You swear to the heavens that if your jaw wasn't attached to your skull, it would've been on the floor already with all the blasphemy you just heard coming from his mouth. You turn to face him.

“WHAT THE FUCK?”

Wow. Just. Wow. Up until now, he still doesn't trust you. After everything, he still doesn't trust you.

Carlos raises both of his arms. “I said what I said!”

You feel your blood boil, the ether of hatred for this man you once loved seething within you. You take a step forward, closing the gap between the two of you, all while never taking your gaze off his.

You look up at him, speaking with your voice low. “Carlos, have you ever heard of the phrase ‘Keep your friends close and your enemies closer’ ?”

Carlos chuckles. “What, you're gonna tell me that's your excuse as to why you're always with Lewis? Huh? You're keeping your enemies closer?”

Fucker.

“No, Carlos,” you replied with conviction. “Lewis is actually the first half of the quote.”

“Oh yeah?”

Instead of replying, you put your palm on his chest. He looks you in the eye and you hold his gaze. His eyebrows furrow. You speak again.

“The second half, mi amor, is why you and I are teammates.”

You tap him on his chest.

Then and there, the smug look on his face completely falters.

And then and there, you walk away.

How does it end? Truth is you really don't know. But how does it end up for you? Well, let me tell you something . . .

Porsche F1 Headquarters | Monday, 02:01 PM

Holy shit, you thought to yourself.

Reuben had already moved on and is now talking about plans for the summer break. You, however, are still stuck on a profound realization that just hit you after recalling what happened between you and Carlos before yesterday's race. An idea that you can't get out of your head. A reflection that resonated deeply. A thought that just won't stop haunting you.

. . . Are we the new Alpine?

← previous part next part →

#fourkisses ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .ᐟ #i stare at the crash (it actually works)〃★#formula 1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 smau #carlos sainz #f1 fic #f1 imagine #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz x reader #f1

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elryuse · 1 hour ago

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ANTHEM pt.2

Multiple Female Idols X Male Reader

Tags : HAREM, MULTIPLE FEMALE LOVE INTEREST, BLACKMAIL, SEDCUTION

Words : 3,4k

For My Other ANTHEM Stories, Please Kindly Check Over Here. Hope You Guys Enjoyed It.

The morning light filtered through the blinds, casting a soft glow over Y/n’s room. He stretched lazily, his mind still hazy from the events of the night before. The memory of Karina’s touch lingered on his skin like a delicate burn, and he couldn’t help but smile as he replayed their secret moments in his head. But the smile faltered when he remembered Winter—her sly grin, the photo she took, and the way she had left him with that ominous promise.

Y/n dressed quickly, trying to push his unease aside as he headed to the practice studio. The other members were already there, gathered in their usual spots, chatting and stretching. Karina caught his eye immediately, her lips curving into the faintest smile. They didn’t speak, but the warmth in her gaze was enough to make his heart skip a beat.

“Good morning, oppa!” Wonyoung chirped, waving energetically. Her bubbly energy was infectious, and Y/n couldn’t help but laugh as he returned the greeting. Yujin gave him a playful wink, while Chaewon and Yeji exchanged knowing smirks. It was always hard to tell if they were teasing him or just being their usual mischievous selves.

But then Winter walked in, and the atmosphere shifted.

She sauntered into the room with an air of confidence that demanded attention, her eyes locking onto Y/n’s almost instantly. There was something about the way she looked at him—like she knew exactly what she wanted and how to get it. Y/n’s stomach twisted as she approached, her lips curling into a smirk that made his pulse quicken.

“Morning, everyone,” Winter said sweetly, though her gaze never left Y/n. “I was thinking of grabbing some coffee. Oppa, you should come with me. I need someone strong to carry all the drinks.” She paused, tilting her head slightly. “Unless anyone else wants something?”

The others murmured their orders, barely paying attention as they continued their warm-ups. Y/n hesitated, unsure of how to respond. Before he could protest, Winter turned to him, her phone already in hand. She tapped the screen once, and Y/n felt his blood run cold.

It was a photo—blurry but unmistakable. Him and Karina, tangled together in his bed. His heart slammed against his ribs as Winter leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Let’s go, bae,” she purred, slipping her arm through his.

Y/n’s mouth went dry. He glanced at Karina, who was watching them with a frown of confusion, clearly unaware of what was happening. Unable to think of a way out, he nodded stiffly and followed Winter out of the room.

The walk to the café was tense, the silence between them thick with unspoken tension. Winter hummed a tune under her breath, her fingers brushing against his arm every so often as if to remind him she was still there. Finally, she broke the silence.

“Relax, oppa,” she said, her tone light but laced with something darker. “I’m not going to bite… yet.”

Y/n swallowed hard. “Winter, what do you want?”

She stopped walking and turned to face him, her expression suddenly serious. “What do you think I want?” she countered, stepping closer until there was barely any space between them. Her perfume enveloped him, sweet and intoxicating.

“I don’t know,” Y/n admitted, his voice shaky. “But if you’re planning to blackmail me—”

Winter cut him off with a low laugh. “Blackmail? That’s such a harsh word. Let’s call it… negotiation.” She reached up, her fingers lightly tracing the line of his jaw. “You see, oppa, I’ve always been curious about you. The only guy in our group, surrounded by all these beautiful women…” Her hand slid down to his chest, resting over his pounding heart. “And yet, you only seem to have eyes for Karina.”

Y/n’s breath hitched. “Winter…”

“Shh,” she whispered, pressing a finger to his lips. “Don’t say anything. Just listen.” Her eyes locked onto his, gleaming with a mix of mischief and desire. “I’m not asking you to stop whatever it is you’re doing with Karina. I’m just saying… why limit yourself? After all, sharing is caring, right?”

Before Y/n could react, Winter closed the distance between them, her lips capturing his in a kiss that was both demanding and teasing. He froze, torn between pushing her away and giving in to the heat building between them. Her hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer as she deepened the kiss, her tongue sliding against his in a way that sent shivers down his spine.

When she finally pulled back, her cheeks were flushed, and her breathing was uneven. “Think about it, oppa,” she murmured, her voice husky. “No one has to know. Not Karina, not the others… just us.”

Y/n’s mind raced, his thoughts a jumbled mess of guilt, desire, and fear. He opened his mouth to respond, but Winter pressed a finger to his lips again, silencing him.

“No need to answer now,” she said with a sly smile. “We’ve got plenty of time.” With that, she turned and continued walking toward the café, leaving Y/n standing there, his heart pounding and his world spinning out of control.

As he followed her, he couldn’t shake the feeling that things were about to spiral even further out of his grasp. And the worst part? A small, traitorous part of him wasn’t entirely opposed to Winter’s proposition.

The café was bustling with activity when Y/n and Winter arrived, the chatter of customers filling the air. Winter’s hand lingered on his arm a moment longer than necessary as they stepped inside, her touch sending a jolt of electricity through him. She flashed him a mischievous smile, one that made his stomach twist in a mix of anticipation and dread.

“Let’s grab our drinks,” she said, her voice light and breezy, as if nothing unusual had happened between them. But the glint in her eyes betrayed her casual tone. She sauntered over to the counter, hips swaying slightly, and Y/n followed, his heart still racing from their earlier conversation.

As they waited in line, Winter leaned closer to him, her breath warm against his ear. “You know,” she murmured, her voice low and teasing, “this place has the best storage closet. Perfect for… private conversations.”

Y/n stiffened, his pulse quickening. He glanced at her, trying to gauge whether she was serious or just toying with him again. But the way she looked at him—her lips parted, her gaze heavy with intent—told him everything he needed to know.

Before he could protest, Winter grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the line, leading him down a narrow hallway toward the back of the café. His mind screamed at him to stop, to turn around, but his body betrayed him, following her willingly. The thrill of danger, the forbidden nature of what they were about to do, was intoxicating.

She pushed open the door to the storage closet, a small, dimly lit space filled with shelves of supplies. As soon as they were inside, she closed the door behind them, plunging them into near darkness. The only light came from a crack under the door, casting faint shadows across their faces.

Winter didn’t waste any time. She pressed herself against him, her hands sliding up his chest. “You’ve been thinking about this all day, haven’t you?” she whispered, her voice dripping with confidence. “Admit it, oppa. You want this.”

Y/n’s breathing grew shallow, his resolve crumbling under the weight of her words. “Winter, we shouldn’t—” he started, but she cut him off with a sharp look.

“Don’t lie to me,” she said, her tone firm yet playful. “I can see it in your eyes. You like the risk. You like the idea of doing something you know you shouldn’t.”

He couldn’t deny it. The truth was, there was something undeniably thrilling about being alone with her like this, knowing how wrong it was. And Winter knew exactly how to exploit that.

She ran her fingers through his hair, tugging gently as she brought his face closer to hers. Their lips met in a searing kiss, full of pent-up desire and reckless abandon. Y/n’s hands found her waist, pulling her even closer as their bodies pressed together. The heat between them was overwhelming, a fire that threatened to consume them both.

Winter broke the kiss, her breathing uneven, and began unbuttoning his shirt with practiced ease. Her fingers traced the lines of his chest, sending shivers down his spine. “So strong,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “No wonder Karina can’t keep her hands off you.”

The mention of Karina made Y/n flinch, guilt gnawing at the edges of his mind. But Winter didn’t give him time to dwell on it. She kissed him again, deeper this time, her tongue exploring his mouth with a hunger that left him dizzy.

Her hands trailed lower, unbuckling his belt with nimble fingers. Y/n’s breath hitched as she reached for the waistband of his pants, her touch deliberate and unhurried. Every movement sent waves of pleasure coursing through him, erasing any lingering doubts.

Winter dropped to her knees, her eyes locking with his as she slowly pulled down his pants. The intensity of her gaze made his heart race even faster. She ran her hands up his thighs, her touch feather-light, before leaning in and placing a soft kiss just below his navel.

Y/n’s head fell back against the wall, a low groan escaping his lips as Winter continued to tease him. She took her time, savoring every reaction she drew from him. When she finally took him into her mouth, he couldn’t hold back a gasp, his fingers tangling in her hair.

The room felt impossibly hot, their bodies slick with sweat as the tension between them reached its peak. Winter paused, looking up at him with a wicked grin. “You taste amazing,” she purred, before licking a trail of sweat from his stomach. “Salty… and so addictive.”

Her playful gesture sent another wave of desire crashing over him. He pulled her up, crushing his lips to hers as he fumbled with the buttons of her blouse. Once it was off, he cupped her breasts through the thin fabric of her bra, eliciting a soft moan from her.

Winter arched into his touch, her hands working quickly to remove the rest of their clothes. They stumbled backward, knocking over a stack of boxes as they moved. The sound of clattering items echoed in the small space, but neither of them cared. All that mattered was the electric connection between them, the undeniable need driving them forward.

When they finally came together, it was with a sense of urgency, their bodies moving in perfect sync. Winter wrapped her legs around his waist, her nails digging into his back as she whispered his name over and over. Each thrust brought them closer to the edge, their breaths mingling in the confined space.

Just as they were about to reach their climax, Winter pulled back slightly, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Not yet,” she breathed, her voice shaky but determined. “I want to make this last.”

Y/n groaned in frustration, but he didn’t argue. There was something exhilarating about letting her take control, about surrendering himself completely to her whims. She slowed their pace, drawing out each movement until the tension became almost unbearable.

When they finally let go, it was with a shared cry of release, their bodies trembling as they clung to each other. For a long moment, they stayed like that, catching their breath and basking in the afterglow.

Winter was the first to break the silence, a sly smile playing on her lips. “We should probably get cleaned up,” she said, gesturing to the mess they’d made. “And grab those drinks before anyone wonders where we are.”

Y/n nodded, though his mind was still reeling from what had just happened. As they dressed quickly, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt creeping in. What would Karina think if she found out? And what about the others? But Winter seemed unfazed, humming softly as she adjusted her hair in the reflection of a metal shelf.

When they finally emerged from the storage closet, the café was just as busy as before. No one seemed to notice their absence, let alone suspect what they’d been up to. Winter linked her arm with his, leaning in close as they approached the counter.

“Order whatever you want,” she said with a wink. “Drinks are on me. Oh, and don’t forget…” She lowered her voice, her breath hot against his ear. “This is just the beginning, oppa.”

The café buzzed with life as Y/n and Winter returned to the table, drinks in hand. The other members were deep in conversation, their laughter echoing through the space. Y/n handed Karina her iced americano, his fingers brushing hers for just a moment too long. She smiled up at him, patting the empty seat beside her.

“Sit,” she said softly, her voice warm despite the exhaustion lining her features. Y/n obeyed without hesitation, sinking into the chair next to her. He could feel the heat of her body even before she leaned her head against his shoulder, her hair brushing against his neck. It was a simple gesture, but it sent a thrill through him, grounding him in the moment.

From across the room, Winter’s eyes burned into them. Her gaze was cold, almost predatory, as she sipped her drink slowly. But Y/n didn’t notice—or maybe he chose not to. Right now, all he cared about was the way Karina’s breath hitched slightly when their thighs brushed under the table.

The group around them chattered animatedly, their energy infectious. Wonyoung was recounting a story about a fan who had mistaken her for someone else at a recent event, her hands waving dramatically as she spoke. Yeji chimed in with teasing remarks, her sharp wit drawing laughter from the others. Even Chaewon, usually more reserved, was grinning broadly, her cheeks flushed from the excitement.

Y/n tried to focus on the conversation, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Karina. She looked so beautiful like this, he thought, stealing a glance at her. Her lashes fanned against her cheeks as she closed her eyes briefly, her lips curving into a small smile. It was moments like these that made him forget everything else—Winter’s scheming, the pressure of their comeback, the weight of their secret.

But then he caught Winter’s eye. She was still watching them, her expression unreadable. There was something unsettling about the way she held his gaze, as if she were daring him to look away first. Y/n frowned slightly, a flicker of unease creeping into his chest. What did she want from him? And why couldn’t she just let him enjoy this moment?

Karina seemed to sense his discomfort, lifting her head slightly to follow his line of sight. When she spotted Winter, her smile faltered for just a second before she turned back to Y/n. “Hey,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the noise of the café. “You okay?”

He nodded quickly, forcing a smile. “Yeah. Just tired.”

Karina studied him for a moment, her brow furrowing slightly. But before she could say anything else, Yeji called out to her, pulling her attention away. Y/n exhaled quietly, relieved. He didn’t want to worry her—not when she already had so much on her plate.

As the conversation continued, Y/n found himself zoning out again, his mind wandering back to the storage closet. The memory of Winter’s hands on him, her lips against his skin, sent a shiver down his spine. He hated how conflicted he felt—how part of him still craved the thrill of their secret encounters, even as guilt gnawed at him.

“Oppa,” Wonyoung’s voice broke through his thoughts, startling him slightly. “Are you going to eat that?” She gestured to the untouched pastry on his plate, her eyes wide and pleading.

Y/n chuckled, pushing the plate toward her. “All yours.”

Wonyoung grinned, grabbing the pastry eagerly. “Thanks! You’re the best.”

The mood at the table lightened again, the tension momentarily forgotten. But Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. He glanced over his shoulder, half-expecting to see Winter standing there, but she was gone. His stomach twisted uneasily. Where had she gone? And what was she planning now?

Karina shifted beside him, her hand resting lightly on his knee under the table. The touch was casual, almost accidental, but it sent a jolt of electricity through him. He turned to her, meeting her gaze. There was something in her eyes—something soft and knowing—that made his heart ache.

Does she suspect? he wondered, panic rising in his chest. But Karina simply smiled, leaning closer until her lips brushed his ear. “Relax,” she murmured, her breath warm against his skin. “We’ll figure it out.”

Her words should have comforted him, but they only deepened his guilt. How could she be so trusting when he was keeping so much from her? He wanted to tell her everything—about Winter, about the photo, about the impossible position he was in—but he couldn’t. Not here. Not now.

Instead, he reached for her hand, lacing their fingers together beneath the table. Karina squeezed gently, her touch reassuring. For a moment, it was enough to quiet the storm in his mind.

But then Winter reappeared, sliding into the seat directly across from him. She set her drink down with deliberate care, her eyes locking onto his. There was a challenge in her gaze—a silent reminder of the power she held over him. Y/n tensed, his grip tightening instinctively around Karina’s hand.

“So,” Winter began, her tone deceptively light, “anyone else excited for the comeback showcase? I heard the choreography is killer this time.”

The others nodded enthusiastically, launching into a discussion about the new routine. Y/n forced himself to join in, though his mind was elsewhere. Winter’s foot bumped against his under the table, lingering just long enough to make her intentions clear. He pulled away sharply, his pulse quickening.

Karina glanced between them, her brow furrowing slightly. “Everything okay?” she asked, her voice tinged with concern.

Winter smiled sweetly, her expression innocent. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

Y/n swallowed hard, his throat dry. He couldn’t do this—not here, not in front of everyone. But Winter seemed determined to push him, her every word and action designed to remind him of the hold she had over him.

As the conversation continued, Winter leaned forward slightly, her elbow brushing against Y/n’s as she reached for her drink. Her perfume—something floral and subtly intoxicating—wafted toward him, making his head spin. He could feel her thigh pressing against his under the table, her proximity sending a rush of heat through him.

Karina shifted again, her hand slipping from his as she reached for her coffee. Y/n froze, his breath catching in his throat. Winter smirked, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

“You know,” she said casually, turning to address the group, “I think we should celebrate after the showcase. Maybe a night out? Just the seven of us.”

There were murmurs of agreement, the others clearly on board with the idea. But Y/n couldn’t focus on that. All he could think about was the way Winter’s foot was tracing small circles against his ankle, her touch light but insistent.

“Sounds fun,” Karina replied, though her tone was hesitant. She glanced at Y/n, her eyes narrowing slightly. “What do you think?”

Y/n opened his mouth to respond, but Winter beat him to it. “Oh, I’m sure he’ll love it,” she said with a wink. “Right, oppa?”

He stiffened, his jaw clenching. This was getting out of hand. He needed to put a stop to it—before things escalated further. But how?

Before he could formulate a response, Winter stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. “Well, I’m heading back to the dorm. Anyone coming with me?”

The others exchanged glances, clearly torn. “We’ll catch up later,” Yeji said after a moment, waving her off. “Don’t wait up.”

Winter shrugged, slinging her bag over her shoulder. As she walked past Y/n, her hand grazed his shoulder, her nails digging in just enough to leave a mark. “See you soon,” she murmured, her tone dripping with implication.

Y/n’s stomach churned as he watched her go, a mix of dread and anticipation swirling inside him. He knew this wasn’t over—not by a long shot. And as much as he wanted to believe otherwise, he had a feeling things were about to get a lot more complicated.

To Be Continued

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hresvelged · 2 days ago

Note

"Is this your doing?"

She's too tired and sore to care about whatever threats Edelgard's retainer might try and throw her way. The minute she finds her, Yunaka grabs her by the shoulder and pushes her somewhere quiet, somewhere where they hopefully won't be seen by anyone who wants to intervene.

Her voice comes out in a furious hiss as she glares at the Emperor. "Is this your big plan? The war you wanted to stop the church?"

She said they wouldn't be hurt. And like a fucking idiot, Yunaka believed her at her word.

Rage and fury makes her hands shake. She clenches them tightly at her sides. "You said that nobody from Elyos would get hurt." She snarls. "If anything has happened to them...I'll be the one to pay it back myself, do you understand me?"

The moment Yunaka ushered her aside, she knew what would follow. It made sense, certainly— That, after indulging a secret as large as she did, the events to follow only seemed to align with sheer chaos and crimson flames engulfing all they once knew. She isn't oblivious to this reasoning. Even so, she will not take the fall. "No," she says in a harsh whisper. "You're mistaken."

For as frustrated as Edelgard is, all she can do is hope to sew the truth in a world tainted by lies; one that Yunaka may hope to understand.

"Recall the situation we find ourselves in." She keeps her words level; spoken in a hissed declaration than sentences for only her to hear. "If I was the one who caused this, would it not be foolish of me to stand here with everyone else? That only invites trouble, does it not?"

"Besides." Her eyes drop towards the professor's shaken fists, keeping distance between the two. "To accuse myself is to say the Empire is capable of all those foes and more that have stood in our way. Do you truly believe this? " But she knows who wants ribbons of doubt shredded apart. Who else holds a seed of hatred towards the church, sewn so deep that they continue to hide and manipulate from their well obscured shadows. She could tell Yunaka. Surely, that may ease the tension. Or, it may only make the grandiose story only stranger.

Her arms cross. "If anyone from Elyos found themselves injured, it is not because of myself. Taking revenge on me wouldn't grant you what you seek. Direct that anger elsewhere." A breath. "The best course of action you can take is abiding by my words. I don't expect you to believe me. I hardly even anticipate anything I say to be taken with heart. Even so, remember this— I will prove to you. The war you're thinking of.. It has yet to begin."

#( asks )#dcggersedge #toaepiphany2025 #soft smile

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midnighthazee · 4 hours ago

Text

Greenridge ABO Series

a/n: She's a long one Greenies, get a snack and get comfy... It's time.

Series Masterlist Masterlist

Warnings: explicit language, mentions of blood, mentions of guns and weapons, violence, injuries, not for the squeamish..., death

WC: 8396

Chapter 23

Chan pulled up to the house and everyone got out of the car. You were last to climb out, having been squished in the far back of the oversized suv. It wasn’t a long drive from the police station but you were tired. You hadn’t slept much, too worried about how the day would go.

“Why are we back at the house?” you question.

“Because we need to grab some things.” Chan said as they walked up the front steps. The brick was chipped and wobbly in spots but mostly intact. You held onto Jisung as you walked, trying not to be clumsy and fall.

Inside, all the guys went downstairs in a rush. They moved with purpose down the stairs, jumping at the end since the bottom four stairs were missing. You were following them and stopped at the last step. Just as you were about to jump…

“Whoa, careful. Just stay there. We will only be a few minutes.” Minho said.

You pout. The house gave you the creeps these days so you were not trying to be alone right now. You were afraid the floor would give out underneath you or someone else would be lurking around. Or the house would collapse on them (like it had done in several nightmares you had had lately).

Jeongin, noticing your pout and picking up on your anxiety, climbed back up on the steps. “I’ll stay with her.”

Minho nodded before joining the others. You couldn’t see what they were doing despite leaning down to see.

“Come on, we can go back upstairs.” Jeongin says, resting a hand on your arm.

You hesitate but move your feet to follow him. You make it upstairs and he pulls you into a hug. Rubbing your back, he slowly rocks the two of you. It was a moment before either of you spoke.

“You okay?” he whispers.

“Yeah…” you say into his chest.

He pulls back, looking at you with a disbelieving expression. “You sure?”

“The house just….” you shrug. “It makes me anxious.”

“Me too. It feels unstable… like the whole thing could just crumble any minute.” Jeongin looks around towards the roof. “Wanna wait outside?”

You nod eagerly and he smiles, leading you outside. The two of you sit in the grass next to the driveway. Leaning over, Jeongin kisses you. You smile and he kisses you again. You melt into the kiss, all your worries miraculously fading away. He pushes you down onto your back, hovering over you. He places his hips between your legs and you moan into his mouth. He chuckles, peppering your face with kisses. You giggle and he leans up.

“Feeling better?”

Blushing, you pull him in for another kiss to answer his question.

He can’t help but grind his hips slightly, making you arch your back. The kiss was heated and passionate, the two of you lost in each other. You reached your hands up his shirt, caressing his skin. His hand slides down your side, smacking at your ass lightly.

You bite your lip, looking into his eyes.

“I didn’t think you would like it rough…” Jeongin nips at your neck.

“Something about the way you do it I guess…” you whisper with a smirk.

He kisses your neck, dangerously close to Minho’s mark. He feels the urge within him start to grow. There was a hard bulge in his pants pressing into your core and making you wetter by the minute. He wasn’t even in rut but he wanted to mark you. He wanted to make you his, as an alpha does - as Chan and Minho had. His teeth graze your skin and you moan, tilting your neck to give him better access.

It takes all his resolve to pull his lips from your neck, pecking your lips before hovering over you once more. God, he could take you right here, right now. If only you had the time…

“What’s wrong?” you ask, dazed from the scent of his arousal and the feeling of him between your legs.

“They will be coming out soon.” he pants.

“Right.” You say, remembering that you two weren’t alone. And that bigger things were happening right now.

The two of you sit up, Jeongin pulling a bit of grass from your hair. You move over to sit in his lap, leaning into his chest as you wait for the others to return. A few minutes later and the front door opens, the boys exiting. You stand, tensing as you see the weapons they held.

“You have guns?” How did you not know they had a whole arsenal somewhere in the basement?

“Yeah. We have a supply hidden away. Luckily it was untouched by the damage.” Chan answered, loading the bags of ammo into the trunk.

“Yeah. Could you imagine if the grenades had been hit?” Jisung muttered.

“The whole house would be ash.” Felix notes.

Your eyes went wide at the realization.

“Y/n? You okay?” Chan asks.

“I want one.” you blurt out, not entirely sure what came over you.

You hated guns, afraid to touch one. You had plenty of them held up to you, or aimed and shooting at you to want to handle one. So why do you find yourself wanting one to use against Reed?

“Babygirl…you don’t need one.” Chan says, caressing your cheek.

“If I’m to confront Reed, I need more than just my hands.” you argue.

That much was true. You hadn’t had enough training with Changbin to be a strong fighter - especially with an alpha.

“Hudson will be with you. And we won’t be far behind.” Chan kisses your head, going around the car. “Come on, we gotta get to the coffee shop.”

You pout as Changbin steps closer to you.

“Shhh” he says, secretly handing you two daggers. “Just in case.”

You smile and he winks. “Thank you.”

“Of course. I can’t have my girl defenseless.” Changbin pecks your temple before opening the car door for you.

You hid the daggers in your knee high boots and climbed in. The rest of the boys piled in as well and they headed to the rendezvous point.

The rendezvous point was two blocks down from the coffee shop you and Hudson were supposed to be meeting Reed at. Reed had texted early this morning, telling Hudson to meet him there. He told him to come alone and that he had people ready to kill should something happen to him. Hudson didn’t know who they were set to kill so he wasn’t going to take that chance. He did, however, figure your presence wouldn’t provoke him to act on his backup plan.

The police agreed to hang back, letting you go in with Hudson. Minho and Chan did insist that Changbin would be sent in with you as backup, should something pop off. He would sit away from you as a normal civilian but at least he was close.

You were sitting at a bistro table, sipping tea while Hudson sat on his phone and drank coffee. Changbin was two tables over, reading a self-help book as he subtly eyed their surroundings.

Ten minutes.

Then twenty minutes went by and Reed was still not here.

“He’s not gonna show. He knows-” Hudson spoke, exasperated.

“He will. Have patience.” You say.

Hudson leans back in his chair, sighing heavily.

“What are you even going to say to him when he shows up?”

“He just has to show up, then the cops get him. I don’t have to say anything.” Hudson whispers.

You glare.

“I’m going to the bathroom.”

“Don’t let him take his phone.” one of the cops says into your earpiece.

“Leave your phone.” you say.

“Why?” he turns around, giving you a confused expression.

“So you’re not plotting behind our backs.” you cross your arms.

He rolls his eyes but places the phone on the table dramatically. He spins on his heel, walking off to the bathroom. You look around, sipping tea and scrolling on your own phone.

Two minutes pass.

The phone begins to buzz, vibrating on the table. You pop up, nearly spilling your cup on your shirt. You pick up the phone, seeing the caller ID. Reed.

“He’s calling…” you mumble so the cops on the other end of your wire hear you.

You swallow, hitting the answer button. You bring the phone to your ear, hesitating to speak.

“Hello, little sis.” Reed says.

Your eyes go wide, looking around in a panic. How did he know you were here?

“Calm down. I need you to do me a favor.”

“And why would I do anything for you?” You whisper, your words laced with hatred.

“Because your bodyguard is currently being transported to an undisclosed location.”

You whip your head around to where Changbin had been sitting. What? How? Where did he go?

“What do you want?” you ask through clenched teeth.

“That’s more like it..” you could hear the smirk on his face. “First…remove the wire you’re wearing. This conversation is just for us.”

You clench your jaw, looking around for anyone to help. Sighing, you place the phone down on the table and reach into your shirt to pull the cord out. You pulled all the pieces out, placing them in front of you.

“Y/n, what are you doing?!” Hudson asked, coming back to the table.

You shook your head, picking his phone back up.

“Good job. Now, tell Hudson that I will text him an address for him to take you two. If he disobeys me again, I’ll kill your precious soulmate. No cops. No other pack members - just you two.”

Tears welled in your eyes, fear coursing through you.

“Move now, before the cops reach you. There’s an old black mustang around the corner. Keys are in the center console.”

You look around trying to find him. Somehow he knew where Chan and the cops were hiding out. And by removing your earpiece, you knew they would come to your rescue.

“Move.” he growls.

You stand quickly, hurrying Hudson with you. You go around the block before Hudson stops and demands to know what’s going on. Reed hangs up so you hand Hudson his phone.

“Find a black mustang and start driving north. Hurry” It’s all you tell him.

Hudson sighed, looking at the cars parked on the street. At the end of the block ahead was the car. He pointed and the two of you ran over to the car. Testing the doors, he finds them unlocked. He shakes his head as he gets in. You look around once more, coast clear, and climb in. Hudson drives the two of you towards the southbound freeway and, just before the freeway exit, he throws his phone out the window.

“Hey! How’s he going to text you the address of where we are to meet him?”

Hudson reaches into the glovebox and pulls out a disposable phone, handing it to you. You flip it open, reading the address texted by an unknown number. You put it in the navigation and he follows the GPS.

“Why didn’t he show up at the coffee shop?” Hudson asks you.

“He knew we involved the cops…and my pack. He took Changbin.”

Hudson whips his head to you, studying you briefly before looking back to the road. Tears were pooling in your eyes as you watched the road but you blinked them away. You had to be strong right now…for your boys.

“How are the cops supposed to find us?”

“I still have my phone…he didn’t think of everything.” you smile.

Hudson smirked.

The drive took nearly an hour, the anxiety crippling. You were chewing your nails most of the drive, knowing the rest of your boys were probably so worried. You turned off your location for thirty minutes, slowing them down so Reed wouldn’t know they were following you. Your location was back on and you hoped they noticed. If they did, they should be on the way.

Hudson pulled up into a parking lot of a school. The parking lot was covered in cracks and weeds, the school looking forgotten. Half the windows were boarded and the doors had chains on them keeping them locked. A faded sign was missing a few letters but you could still tell what it was saying - Levanter Elementary School. Why did that sound familiar?

“Why here?” Hudson groaned.

“You’ve been here?”

“We all have. This was our first school.” Hudson says. “You don’t remember it?”

You think back to any memories you have of attending school, realizing you do. You see a specific day - sunny and warm as your parents dropped you off. Mom was pregnant at the time, due any day. You remember being so excited to have a sibling.

“Why would he send us here?” you question.

The burner phone chimed and Hudson read the text.

“We have to head around back. There’s an open door back there.”

“I don’t like this. We should wait for the others.”

“We do and Changbin is dead. They aren’t supposed to come, remember?”

You groan.

Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath and roll your shoulders back. Confidently you sit up, opening the car door. Hudson gets out too, leading you around the building. Sure enough, there was a door propped open. It was getting dark outside and you didn’t like that. You tried to recall everything Changbin taught you about self defense, hoping it wouldn’t come to that.

Hudson steps in first, looking around the darkened, abandoned school and heading to the right. Hudson tried the light switches, knowing it was a long shot - they didn’t turn on as suspected. You stay close behind, afraid someone is going to pop out. You creep down the hall, inching forward into the darkness.

BANG!

You jump, spinning around. Behind you the door you entered was now shut. You groan, gripping onto Hudson’s arm.

“Guess we aren’t leaving that way.” Hudson deadpans.

“Pretty sure that was the only way.” you mutter.

“Come on.”

Hudson keeps walking, leading the two of you into a rotunda with a few different hallways. There was a staircase behind you and beyond that was a cafeteria. The other way had a library and a front office.

“Which way?” you whisper.

“Hello?!” He calls out and you flinch.

Nothing.

“Anyone here?” he calls out once more.

Chime.

Hudson read the text then pointed towards the stairs. “Upstairs.”

The two of you go to the second floor, going around the corner to an office room. You enter and look around at the scattered papers. It was just lesson plans and permission slips. The door shuts behind you, making you jump. The hairs on the back of your neck stood tall as you heard someone breathing.

“Finally…we are all together again.” It was Reed.

You turn slowly, his face causing anger to build up inside you.

“Y/n, good to see you. I do hate that it’s under these circumstances, though.”

“It’s your own doing.” you retort.

He smirks.

Your fingers twitch for the daggers in your boots at that fucking smug face. You want to end this here and now.

“Well, I have a plane ready to take us out of the country. We leave tonight.” Reed says matter of factly.

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” you state.

“Then why are you here?” he tilts his head, an amused smile on his face.

“To kill you.”

He laughs. A deep, hearty belly laugh - as if you couldn’t possibly be serious.

You reach for a dagger and pull it from your boot. He sees you and stops laughing, but his face is still amused.

“Go ahead and try.” Reed says, opening his arms.

You grip tightly on your dagger, studying him for a weak spot. You were about to lunge when you hear police sirens outside. Wow they got here fast. Reed turned to focus on the sirens and you took this opportunity to go for the kill, aiming for his ribs. He catches you by the arm, twisting it backwards so you inevitably drop the dagger. Damn.

“I thought I told you to lose the cops.” he says, closing in on your face as he kicks the dagger away.

“We did. We didn’t tell them we were coming here.” Hudson says. “Please, let her go. We did everything you asked.”

You groan at the pain radiating from your arm. Any more twist on it and something would break.

“If you had, the police wouldn’t be here. Go get rid of them.” Reed glares at him.

You move your free hand to punch him but he just grabs your fist and shakes his head. You bring your knee up, meeting his crotch with a harsh blow. He groans, his hold on you lessening. You take this chance to snatch your hands free and reach for your other dagger. You move your arm up but he catches. Fuck, he’s fast.

You push with all your might against his strength. The dagger slowly lowers, grazing his leg and drawing blood. This pisses him off and he moves quickly, knocking your hand with his knee. The dagger skitters across the floor away from you and he throws you towards the floor.

“Go.” Reed demands.

“If they don’t see her with me, they won’t believe me.” Hudson complains.

“Then tell them I took her away in a car. Go.” Reed growled.

When Hudson doesn’t move, Reed pulls a gun from his waistband, removing the safety, and aiming it at Hudson.

Hudson gave you one last sympathetic look before rushing out the room.

“This was your doing, wasn’t it?” Reed questions.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you say.

He squats down, grabbing you by the neck. “Lie to me again and I’ll kill you.”

Your head was pounding from hitting the floor as Reed released you. Standing, he grabs a walkie and speaks in a language you don’t understand. You worry what he could have told his people. What if they were told to kill the boys as they entered?

He then stands and walks to the oversized desk. He types on the keyboard and soon the screens turn on, illuminating the dim, windowless room. You move to crawl towards the door but he turns, aiming the gun at you.

“Don’t even think about it. I’m not against shooting you.”

You shrink back into yourself, hugging your knees to your chest. He turns back around and you can make out some of the screens, noticing it was a live feed of the school you were currently in.

“Check this out.” He says with a smirk.

You stand reluctantly. As you watch, you see Hudson get whacked over the head and fall to the ground. You wince, fear coursing through you as you realize you’re now alone. He could steal you away, or worse and no one would know.

“There they are.” He points to a top screen, showing figures entering the building.

You counted at least ten and hoped some of them were your boys. Well, maybe you shouldn’t hope that. It would be better if they weren’t here in case Reed decided to blow anything else up.

“Since they decided to show up, I guess I can just kill them now.” Reed smiles and cocks his gun, checking the chamber before moving across the room.

“Don’t you dare.” You say, reaching for him to stop him from leaving.

He whips around, knocking you in the head with the barrel of the gun. It knocks you back and you fall to the floor. He groans, rolling his shoulders and tilting his head to each side, cracking his neck. Then he leaves the room and heads downstairs.

You rush over, hearing a click as you reach the door. You pull on it and it doesn’t budge - it was locked. You look at the cameras, catching a few other metal doors sliding into place. Coming closer, you realize the school was going into some kind of lockdown mode.

What kind of school has a lockdown mode this severe? You thought.

You bang on the door a few times before pulling out your phone. You hit the call button, attempting to call Chan. There’s a beep and you look at the screen: Call Failed. You sigh, sliding down the wall and sobbing.

“Hyunjin and Seungmin, head upstairs and see if you can find them. Jeongin and Jisung, you two hit the basement. Felix, Minho and I will take this level.” Chan whispers, moving forward down the hall.

The police were ahead of them, making sure they were clear to move on. Each of the members had a weapon ready in hand as they creeped through the school. The evening sun was setting, making the school grow darker by the minute. The police gesture for them to stop, two of them bending down to check the pulse on the body in front of them.

“He’s alive.” they whisper, pulling him off into an alcove of the hall.

“That’s Hudson.” Hyunjin notices.

“Where the hell is y/n then?” Minho eyebrows furrow in frustration and worry.

The boys shake Hudson awake when suddenly shots are fired. They all hunch down, hiding behind a wall. The police take cover, exchanging bullets with Reed’s men. Minho shakes Hudson impatiently, urging him to wake up. Finally, he begins to stir, blinking up at them.

“What happened?” he groans.

“Where’s y/n?” Chan asks during a pause in gunfire.

“Upstairs. Security office.” Hudson rasps as he closes his eyes.

“I’ll go get her.” Seungmin offers.

“Where’s Changbin?” Chan asks.

“I don’t know. We were looking...” Hudson winces, bringing a hand to his head as he sits up. “But Reed found us first…”

“I’ll stay with this idiot. Make sure he doesn’t pull anything.” Minho rolls his eyes.

Chan nods.

They break off in their pairings, continuing down the hall. The police had moved farther in, a few of them dead on the floor as the boys passed by. As the police continue down the halls, the boys pause behind a wall. With no one in sight, Seungmin heads for the stairs, followed by Jisung and Jeongin.

As they ran, shots started firing. Flinching, they hurried to the stairs as the remaining boys fired back. Jeongin and Jisung hurried down the stairs, drawing their weapons as they reached the bottom. Seungmin slowly went up the stairs, catching sight of the two men shooting over the balcony. Quickly, he draws his weapon, aiming and shooting. He manages to take them both down, then continues up the last few steps.

He proceeds further down the hall, searching for the security office as the boys below move forward. He comes to three hallways and goes with the middle one. Upon entering the hall, he notices a sign on the wall reading Security Office. He reaches for the door and pulls but it doesn’t open. He groans, punching the door. It was an industrial looking door and he knew it was probably part of the lockdown that partitioned some of the school.

He notices a keypad and wonders if there was a way to override it.

Where’s Jisung when I need him? He thought.

Looking back at the men bleeding out on the floor, he hurries over to them. He searches both their bodies, finding a keycard on the second one. It’s worth a shot so he snatches it off the body and rushes back over, swiping the keycard on the keypad.

With a double beep, a light blinks green and the door opens. Seungmin smiles and opens the door cautiously. He draws his weapon immediately, only to holster it when he finds you on the floor. His heart drops.

“Y/n?” Seungmin says, coming into the room.

The door closes behind him.

Blinking to clear your vision, you sit up. “Minnie?”

“Hey baby. It’s me.” He says.

He pulls you up from the floor and hugs you tightly. You wince at the pain in your head and Seungmin looks it over, judging the severity. You were definitely concussed for one.

“Is everyone else here? How did you get in here?” you ask, looking around. How long have you been out?

“Everyone’s here. Let’s get out of here.”

Seungmin then noticed the computer screens, walking over to take them all in.

“What?” you ask, standing next to him.

“Trying to find the best exit.” He studies the screens before pointing. “There. We can get out that way.”

“She’s mine. Not yours to take.” Reed interrupts, coming back into the room.

Spinning around, Seungmin reaches for his gun and lifts it. Reed is too quick and knocks it from his hand before he can shoot. Then Reed throws a few punches, landing one to Seungmin’s jaw and another to his ribs. Seungmin landed one to Reed’s face before he was knocked out by the butt of Reed’s glock.

“Seungmin!” you scream, hurrying over to where he fell.

Tears fell from your eyes as you caressed his face. Fury was coursing through you. How dare he do this…

You turn, standing quickly and punching him in the face. It hurt your hand more than it hurt him, his face unmoving as the pain shot through your hand. You clenched your jaw, breathing through the throbbing.

“Don’t piss me off.”

“Fuck you!” You spit at his shoes and he glares.

Pushing you aside, he moves towards the screens pressing a button and speaking into a microphone.

“Oh Christopher,” he taunts Chan.

You notice the other boys stopped walking and looked around. You could hear Reed’s voice echo from the intercoms in the halls as he spoke.

“I have three of your people now. I wonder if I’ll be able to collect them all before the night ends? What do you think?” Reed chuckles. “Or…if you want your precious omega back unharmed…meet me in the cafeteria.”

He turns back to you as you shake with anger and hatred.

“You so much as touch him and I swear by the gods I’ll-” you grit through clenched teeth.

“You’ll what?” He cuts you off. “Do you forget how small and fragile you are? I could snap you like a twig if I wanted to.”

He was in your face, his hot breath felt on your forehead as you glared up at him.

“Exactly. Enjoy the show, sis. You have the front row.” He says, gesturing to the screens.

He turns on his heel and slips out the door. You rush over, hearing the same click as before. You groan, turning back to Seungmin. You go and sit beside him, placing his head in your lap. Looking up to the screens, you notice your pack has split up into groups, now divided by the lockdown. In one screen, you notice four men sneak up on two of your soulmates, beating them as a fight breaks out. You groan, running your fingers through your hair - you couldn’t bear to watch. How the hell were you going to get out of here?

You notice a broken wire hanging down from the table. Following it, you realize it was connected to the mic. How? When was it even severed?

Tears pooled in your eyes as you caressed Seungmin’s peaceful face, a few falling into his hair.

“Please wake up soon.” you whisper.

Chan and Felix were making their way down a hall and locating the cafeteria. When they finally find it, they hide out in a room across the hall.

“Okay, what’s the plan?” Felix asks.

“We have to be smart. I know he’s baiting me.”

“You don’t think she’s in there?”

“No way. She’s probably where Hudson said she was. Or he’s moved her.”

“He already has three of our people.” Felix chews on his lower lip.

“I know. We need to locate them. But right now, we go to the cafeteria and confront him. Give him five minutes and then duck out. If I tell you to run, you run. No matter what. Understood?”

Felix nods, a pout to his lips.

They cross the hall, entering the cafeteria. At the other end, they see a man tied up to a chair, head hanging.

“Is that Binnie?” Felix whispers.

“I think so. Approach slowly.” Chan guides.

The two of them walk forward, slowly and cautiously between the tables. Their guns were drawn, scanning the open space for any movement. Once close enough, he finally lifts his head and looks to them. The boys exhale in relief seeing Changbin and move a bit faster as he groans impatiently through the fabric gag tied onto him.

Felix pulls it down as Chan cuts the ropes.

“You okay?” Felix asks.

Changbin nods. “Y/n?”

“She’s here somewhere. We haven’t found her.” Chan informs.

“He also has Seungmin who went to find her.” Felix adds.

Changbin stands, stretching his arms out and rubbing his wrists.

Behind them, a door creaks open. They all turn to see two shadows approaching from the far east corner. The sound of gunfire echoes in the room and they all drop down. Changbin and Chan flip one of the tables, hiding behind it. They grab their guns, Felix handing his extra to Changbin.

They lean up, shooting towards the men who have also taken cover behind a table. Chan clenches his jaw. He knew you weren’t going to be in here, but he should have figured Reed would be too cowardice to show his face.

“We gotta get out of here.” Felix whispers.

“We won’t make it to the exit.” Changbin shakes his head.

Chan leans over and shoots more at the men. He manages a shot to the head and one of the men goes down. “Got one.”

Felix leans up, shooting at the man who runs across the cafeteria to hide behind a wall closer to them. He misses, ducking back down.

More shots ring out around them as the man shoots.

“Ahh.” Felix’s eyes go wide as he clutches his shoulder.

Blood begins to seep through his shirt, dripping down his hand as his eyes go wide. Another spot in his shirt forms at his waist. He looks up at them and Changbin drags him back by his legs so he is away from the edge of the table.

The shooter had better access from his new angle and Felix had been in his line of fire. Chan stands up, shooting towards the wall with a vengeance. He hears a grunt and sees the man fall forward. He shoots a few more shots, blood pouring from the shooter’s body.

“He’s down.” Chan announces. “We’re clear.”

Changbin is applying pressure to Felix’s wounds as he leans against the table.

“Two shots. I don’t see exit wounds.” Changbin clenches his jaw.

Felix pants, wincing. “I th-think…the b-bullets are s-silver…” Felix manages, squinting his eyes.

“You sure?”

“Feels…like it.” Felix grimaces.

Changbin and Chan exchange glances.

“We need to get them out.” Chan says.

“We n-need to find th-the others. W-we don’t have t-time.” Felix manages to argue.

More gunfire rings out and they duck behind the table. A stray bullet manages to penetrate the table, flying through it and going into Changbin’s side. He grunts in pain, catching himself from falling over. He grabs his side, looking down.

“Dammit. This table isn’t going to last much longer.” Chan says, leaning up to shoot at the shooter.

As the shooter ducks behind a table, Chan notices Hyunjin coming into the cafeteria. He draws his gun and shoots at the unsuspecting man.

“He’s down.” Hyunjin calls out.

“Thanks. Get over here.” Chan says.

Hyunjin comes over, gasping at the two bleeding out. “What the hell?”

“Silver bullets. We need to get them out.”

“What happened to you?” Changbin asks Hyunjin.

Hyunjin had a busted lip and the makings of a black eye, his knuckles also roughed up.

“Little boxing match. What about you?” he said nonchalantly.

“Just took a bullet.” Changbin shrugged, wincing.

“Go find y/n.” Felix insists.

“These tables aren’t going to block.” Chan said, ignoring Felix. “We need to move them somewhere safer to remove the bullets.”

“I’m alright. I can go find y/n.” Changbin says, standing and grabbing at his side.

The blood dripping across his fingers did not go unnoticed.

“You’re out of your mind if you think I’m going to send you looking for her.” Chan says.

“Come here.” Hyunjin wraps one of Changbin’s arms around his shoulders, taking some of his weight so they can move.

Chan scoops Felix up even though he was trying to stand. They hurry out of the cafeteria, Hyunjin’s gun drawn. He aims it straight ahead as he walks, eyeing the hallways for any of Reed’s men. They make their way through the hallway and find an empty classroom. They bring the boys in there, Chan laying Felix on a table.

Felix moves to sit up, but Chan lowers him.

“You need to get these out.” Chan insists. “Hyunjin, tend to them. I’m going to go find this son of a bitch.”

“On your own?” Hyunjin questions.

“I need you to help them. I’ll handle Reed.”

With that, Chan leaves the classroom and Hyunjin barricades the door. Changbin insists Hyunjin tended to Felix first, attempting to help remove the bullets despite his condition.

In the basement, Jeongin and Jisung had gone through all the rooms and found it to be empty. There was no one even down here.

“Welp, no one is tied up down here.” Jisung announces obviously.

“No and it gives me the creeps. Can we go back up now?” Jeongin pleads.

“I guess. Let’s go join all the commotion.” Jisung says with a sigh.

They ascended the stairs, weapons drawn and moving with caution. So far, the coast was clear. Moving past the opening of the cafeteria, Jeongin grabs Jisung’s arm.

“What?” he whispers.

“There’s two bodies in here.”

Jisung swallows, praying they aren’t any of the boys.

They walk in, Jisung checking one while Jeongin checks the other.

“We’re good.” Jisung calls from one body.

Jeongin relaxes his shoulders and shakes his head, confirming the second body was also not one of their mates. They leave the cafeteria and walk down the hallway. It was quiet but they heard chatter and groaning coming from one of the rooms. They look at each other, listening in on the conversation.

“Is that Changbin?” Jeongin whisper-yells.

Jisung goes to the door and tries to open it. He knocks, making the boys inside jump.

“It’s Jisung,” he calls out.

Jisung listened and heard the grunt and scrapes of furniture moving. Then the door opened a crack before Hyunjin pulled it all the way. Jisung noticed the blood on his gloved hands as he entered.

“Oh my god….what happened?” he asked, only to see Felix lying on the table.

Changbin was hunched over him, his skin pale and covered in sweat.

“Silver bullets. We are trying to remove them.” Hyunjin says, hurrying back over to Felix.

Felix’s eyes were starting to glaze over, his skin pale as well.

“Hold him down, he’s squirming too much and I can’t get a grip.” Hyunjin said.

Jeongin moved over to hold Felix down.

“I’ll help Changbin.” Jisung said, grabbing the box of gloves Hyunjin had found in a closet and putting them on.

Hyunjin stuck his fingers back into Felix’s wound, reaching for the bullet. Felix whined, squirming in pain. Jeongin held him still as best he could, Hyunjin apologizing as he finally grabbed onto the bullet.

Changbin laid down on the table, breathing heavily. Jisung attempted to reach into the wound and extract the bullet, but Changbin groaned loudly and squirmed. Jisung winced, not wanting to hurt him further. Sighing, he climbed onto the table, laying on Changbin in efforts to keep him still. He placed his hands inside once more, feeling for the bullet.

After hearing the taunt from Reed on the intercom, Minho snatched Hudson up.

“Dammit. Take me to the Security office.”

“If he’s on the intercom, he’s in the office.” Hudson said.

“Perfect. I can kill him.” Minho pushes him forward. “Move.”

They began walking down the hall, Minho’s gun drawn as he used Hudson for a shield. They make it to the end of the hall and Minho looks around the corner in both directions as he holds Hudson close. The coast was clear so Minho pushed him on.

“I didn’t mean for your house to blow up.” Hudson whispers.

“Shut it.” Minho growls.

“I knew he had something planned…I just didn’t know it would have been that bad. I should have said something.” Hudson continued as they began walking upstairs.

“Well like that night, keep your mouth shut.” Minho grits through his teeth.

“I just want me and y/n to be a family. I never wanted her to get hurt.”

At the landing halfway up the staircase, Minho snatches Hudson around and puts his gun to the beta’s head.

“Do you think I honestly give a damn what you want? You crossed us and put her in harm’s way.” Minho’s voice is laced with venom. “It’s taking everything in me not to put a bullet through your skull.”

He pushes the gun harder to Hudson’s hair, making him whimper.

“Show me where the office is.” Minho demands, turning Hudson back around.

Hudson moved forward without another word. They walked across the balcony area, stepping over the two dead bodies and going to the middle hallway. Hudson gestured to the door on the right and Minho pushed him aside. He pulled on the door but it didn’t open.

“How do I open it?”

“I don’t know. I’m not part of his inside crew anymore.” Hudson shrugged.

Minho huffed, looking around. He saw a fire extinguisher on the wall and went over to it. He broke open the glass and pulled it out, gunfire echoing in the distance. He came over and knocked the keypad off the wall, wires crackling as the electricity still flowed.

He pulled on the door and it groaned.

“Get over here and help me.” Minho demanded.

The two of them pulled, the door starting to give way. Some security this door truly was…

After several minutes of pulling on the door, it finally gives and swings open. You nearly fall forward, having been pushing from your end.

“Y/n? You okay?” Minho said, rushing over and pulling you into a hug. “Oh, Kitten.”

Your body ached a bit and your head was still pounding but you nod. “Seungmin was knocked out with his gun.”

You step to the side and Minho comes in.

“Where’s Reed?”

“He left a few minutes ago. Right after his announcement.” you say.

Minho notices the screens and looks to see a shootout going on in the cafeteria - that explains the gunfire. He also catches the two in the basement, but no sign of Reed.

Where the hell is that bastard? Minho thought.

“There!” you say, pointing to a camera of what looks like an auditorium. There was a stage and foldable chairs in the room, Reed pacing the stage.

“Great. We find the others and go there.” Minho lifts Seungmin up and carries him out.

The four of you descend the stairs, checking each way before heading down the main hallway, past the cafeteria and to the end. As they approach the intersection of two more hallways and an exit door, they hear footsteps. They slow down, Minho places Seungmin on the floor and draws his gun. He holds it out and peeks around the corner. His shoulders drop and he releases the breath he was holding.

“Don’t shoot.” he says, stepping around the corner.

Chan flinches but lowers his gun. “Don’t scare me like that.”

“Sorry.”

“This place gives me the creeps.” Chan complained.

You came around the corner fast, jumping into Chan’s arms.

“Babygirl…fuck I was so worried.” Chan squeezed you tightly, breathing in your scent.

“I’m okay.” You say, caressing his face.

He gives you a quick peck before releasing his hold.

“Reed is in the auditorium. I think it’s out those doors. We need to get the others.” Minho informed.

“How’d you find him?”

“Security office had cameras.”

Chan nods. “Hyunjin’s in the room with Changbin and Felix…the two of them are shot.”

“What?!” you exclaim.

“Silver bullets.” Chan’s jaw clenches.

“Where?” Minho asks.

“In a classroom back down that hall.” Chan points to the hall behind them.

“I swear I’m gonna kill him.” Minho seethes, walking ahead to the exit door.

“Minho…” you say but he’s not hearing it.

He pushes the door but it clanks with the chain around the handles, locking them in. Minho doesn’t let it stop him. He elbows the glass window on the top half of the door and it shatters. Then he removes his jacket and removes all the glass edges before placing it on the bottom part of the window and climbing through.

“Minho, wait!” you call after him.

He doesn’t stop, so you race after him.

“Y/N!” Chan calls after you, grabbing your arm.

“He’s going to get himself killed. Hurry go get the others.” You say, pulling your arm free and hurrying over to the door.

You climb through the window gracefully, landing with a somersault. Chan groans, picking up Seungmin and running down the hall to see if Hyunjin is finished. To his pleasant surprise, he finds the bullets removed and Jisung and Jeongin. Seungmin finally wakes when Jisung splashes water on his face.

Hudson watched Chan run back down the hall, but turned back to see you running after Minho. You were going to need his help more so he followed after you, clumsily making it through the window with a scratch.

Inside the auditorium, Reed was still pacing on the stage. There were some tables behind him, one with a black duffle bag on it while the others had dusty boxes and props. Minho found his way backstage and quietly snuck forward, only revealing himself at the last minute.

“You fucking bastard.” Minho growls, coming from behind the curtain.

He shot at him twice, Reed dodging the bullets and only coming out with a graze on his arm. Minho was out with no more magazines to reload. He threw his gun to the side and marched up to Reed. He landed a punch to Reed’s face, making him stumble. Minho kept coming at him, punching him. Reed punched back, the two of them knocking each other down and rolling around on the stage in a fight for dominance.

You come bursting into the audience section, seeing them on the stage.

“Stop! Minho!” you cry out but he doesn’t hear you.

You run down the aisle, hopping up the three feet onto the stage and coming over. You grab onto Minho’s arm, trying to pull him off while dodging the blows he was giving Reed. Reed managed to flip him over and was throwing punches, only landing a fraction of them.

You push at him with everything in you and you manage to make him stumble. Minho takes advantage, kicking him off and scrambling to his own feet. You just need to stall long enough for the others to show up.

“Minho, stop!” you say, pulling at his arm.

He doesn’t even acknowledge you, eyes glaring red.

You move to step between them, arms outstretched, a palm on Minho’s chest. Reed stood, wiping the blood from his mouth and eyebrow. Minho spit some blood to the side, murder in his eyes.

“Minho, stop.” you say, looking at him.

He meets your eyes briefly before the sound of a door closing in the audience makes you all look. Before you could realize who it was, Reed snatched you by arm and pulled you into his chest. You grunt and Minho takes a step toward you, stopping when the barrel of a revolver hits your temple.

You shake, eyes closing as you breathe rapidly.

“Make another move and I’ll splatter her brain all over this stage.”

“You won’t.” Minho states.

“No? I have three bullets out of eight slots so her chances aren’t very high.”

Minho clenches his teeth.

Click.

You gasp, body tensing. A blank. It was blank. Wait…he actually pulled the trigger on you. You exhale with a shaky breath, sweat beading on your forehead.

“Or maybe I should just shoot you and escape while I can.” Reed says, aiming the gun at Minho.

“No!” you rasp.

“Shut up, bitch.” he jerks your body, pressing the barrel back to your head.

You squeeze your eyes shut again and he aims at Minho. “Think you will get as lucky as she does?”

Minho doesn’t move, staring him down.

Bang.

You gasp, the sound of the shot ringing in your ears as you shake.

It wasn’t a blank. He shot at Minho and it wasn’t a blank. Your mind races in panic.

You couldn’t bring yourself to open your eyes - You couldn’t see him shot. Your heart ached in your chest and you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

Reed sighed. “Hudson, Hudson, Hudson…I should have left you to that fragile little couple and let you live your days as a goat farmer. Think of all the pennies you could have made.”

Confused, you will yourself to open your eyes. Minho and Hudson were on the floor, no blood in sight. You pant, realizing Hudson must have knocked him out of the way.

“Better than being your brother.” Hudson said, standing.

“Think you can beat the odds twice?” Reed aims his gun at Hudson.

Minho stands, dusting himself off.

“Let her go.” It was Chan.

You turn to see everyone coming into the auditorium. Changbin and Felix were walking slowly, Felix being supported by Jisung.

“You won’t make it out of this alive. All your men are dead.” Chan continued.

Reed places the gun to your head. “Take another step and we can test her odds again.”

They all stop. Changbin keeps his arm raised, aiming at Reed.

“You shoot her, I shoot you.” Changbin states, standing as firmly as he can.

“You don’t look so good, maybe you should lay down.” Reed says.

“I’m well enough to kill you.”

Hudson steps forward, Reed aiming the gun at him.

“I don’t have a clear shot.” Changbin whispers to Chan.

“Shoot me.” Chan says to Reed.

“No!” you squirm.

“Shut up.” Reed presses the gun to your head.

“I know you want to. Or we can settle this like alphas.” Chan offered.

“No. I’m good.” Reed smiled.

With the gun aimed at Chan, Reed pulled the trigger.

Click.

Changbin shoots in retaliation, the bullet whooshing past Reed’s ear.

Reed laughs. “I’m enjoying this little game.”

The barrel of the gun is back at your temple and you shake, sweat and tears dripping down your face.

“Reed, don’t.” Hudson pleaded.

Reed looked at Hudson, squinting his eyes.

Click.

You gasp, trembling in his hold.

Chan’s mouth parted as he sucked in air. The tease was too much and they needed an advantage…fast. He was too trigger happy for their sanity and they needed to separate the two of you.

“Reed..let her go and I’ll let you walk out of here. All the cops we came with were killed by your men. You can still escape.”

“You think I’m going to go through all this and not take my sister with me?”

“It’s your best option. Escape or death.”

“You let us walk out of here, and I’ll let you all have regular phone calls to keep in touch.”

“No deal.” Chan purses his lips.

“I tried.” Reed says, aiming the gun at Chan once more.

Bang, Bang.

You gasp, squirming in his grip as Chan stumbles backwards. Chan falls to the floor, blood pooling around him.

“No!” you say, bucking and thrashing in his hold.

“Let’s go.” he whispers in your ear, guiding you backwards while everyone focuses on Chan.

Jeongin notices and draws his weapon, aiming for Reed. Reed tosses his gun aside and shields himself behind you. He was bigger than you but no kill shot could be made with you in front of him without risking you getting hit. But Reed underestimated the maknae.

Jeongin kept a steady arm, eyeing Reed carefully.

“Don’t hit your precious soulmate.” Reed taunts.

Bang.

You yelp, jumping.

The hold around you loosened as Reed stumbled backwards. He looks stunned, his shoulder aching. You scramble from his hold, turning to see him look down at his hand. His shoulder was hit - mere millimeters from where your own was.

“Cobalt bullet. We learned a few things thanks to your mismanagement.” Jeongin said, climbing onto the stage.

He handed you the gun. “Wanna do the honors?”

“That’s not me.” you shake your head.

Now that the opportunity was there for you to take, you weren’t going to become that person, no matter what you had been through. Killing was not your thing - you had been close to it enough for a lifetime.

Hudson steps forward. “May I?”

“That was my only cobalt. The rest are silver.” Jeongin says, offering him the gun.

Hudson moves closer to Reed, kicking him to knock him over. You walk over to check on Chan, not wanting to witness this.

“This is for our parents and Aiden.” you hear Hudson say before pulling the trigger.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Reed’s body goes lax, expelling his last breath as his head falls to the side and blood drips from the hole between his eyes.

Felix is applying pressure to Chan’s wound when you come over.

“Is he okay?” you ask.

“Bullets were through and through. He just needs some antibodies to fight the silver. He’ll be fine.” Felix informed. “Doctor Quinn is on her way.”

“What about you?” you look between Felix and Changbin.

“I’ll need more antibodies, but I should be fine. Changbin too.” Felix smiles.

You kiss his cheek, leaning over and kissing Chan as well.

Sirens rang out in the distance and you knew the police backup was finally arriving. They would clean up the bodies and close the case finally. Doctor Quinn would fix everyone up, and you all could go home. No more running and hiding. And certainly no more murderous alphas trying to keep you from your pack.

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#stray kids abo #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #hwang hyunjin x reader #yang jeongin x reader #lee minho x reader #seo changbin x reader #kim seungmin x reader #bang chan x reader #lee felix x reader #han jisung x reader #stray kids ot8 #stray kids

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