#in our little cat au for that picture he was crawling into a small space but then accidentally turned back and got stuck

[cluedoenthusiast]

Helloo there! For the future catlex purner parallels, I humbly suggest to consider:

Love all your previous installments ;)

Toodles 🤗

hello!!!!!!!!! thank you so much this is wonderful!!!!!!!! you get it!

i didnt see this im so sorry but somehow i used that second picture anyway

[lubdubsworld]

The Devil’s Own.

Jungkook x OC

Mafia Au!

Warnings : Non-Con ! Manipulation, Degradation, Shitty hero with no redeeming Qualities you have been warned. ( i mean he does get better but not much.) 

Summary : Just Mob Boss Jungkook doing mob boss things. 

Chapter 1

“ Sign it. ”

I glared at him, feeling sick at the tone. The entitlement.

“No.” I said sharply and I could feel his anger swelling, morphing into something dangerous and deadly but I couldn’t care anymore. I was tired. Exhausted. This cat and mouse game had gone on , long enough. It wasn’t an even playing field, in any sense of the qword.

If today was the day I died, so be it. I would accept it. I would even welcome it.

I was done.

He had everything : an empire at his beck and call , enough money to pave the streets of Seoul in gold and an army of loyal associates behind him. His face was plastered on Billboards across the country , the President posted pictures of him on his fucking SNS and delegates from other countries had to wait weeks , just to get an appointment with the youngest billionaire South Korea had ever seen.

And yet none of those white collared dignitaries saw this side of him. The dirty, violent ruthless man who had more blood on his hands than anyone else in the country. My father’s. My brothers’.

Jeon Jungkook was both the most revered business man in the country and the undisputed king of Seoul’s criminal underbelly.

“You defiance only makes me want to break you in other ways Elena.” He said warningly and I felt my throat go dry. I stared at him, wondering how someone could look so expensively gorgeous and yet, like a hardened criminal.

The expensive silk shirt, the fitted slacks and the handmade shoes ought to clash with the dark ink that covered his entire arm and neck, the piercing on his eyebrow and the glint of metal on his tongue but it didn’t.

It just all came together to make him the most attractive man in existence.

I took a deep breath. Perhaps begging was the way to go?

“ You have my father’s company. You have my brother’s Hospital and you have the family mansion. It’s all yours. This bakery belongs to my mother. It’s all I have left of her. My sister in law is pregnant , due any day. She needs a place to stay and I don’t… I don’t have money to rent anywhere else.” I said desperately, thinking of the paltry wage I earned waiting tables. I could barely afford food for myself let alone for Jisoo and the baby on the way.

The bakery was abandoned but it had a roof. The furniture was crumbling but I could fix that. If I didn’t have to worry about rent, I could save up enough to make it livable. At least till I got a better job.

“I’ve offered you solutions for all of that.” He reminded me softly, eyes trained unblinkingly on me and I stared at him.

“I’m not going to be your whore.” I felt my voice shake.

He grimaced.

“You aren’t qualified to be my whore. And I don’t need one either. Whores are not my thing. I have a beautiful fiancée, don’t you remember? ” He grinned. I felt my heart ache because that fiancée was once my best friend. The only person I had trusted with my entire life. Lisa had betrayed my trust, had spied on my father’s operations and brought him down and I had the horrible, horrible inkling that she had also had something to do with my father and brother’s untimely death in a car crash.

But I couldn’t think about that. Every time I thought about her my heart broke and head spun, and I had to be at my maximum mental capacity if I was going to deal with her heartless fiancée.

“ If you ask me, you’re not fit for anything more than a back alley blowjob for a couple bucks. But Hoseok thinks you have potential. Join his agency, there are a lot of very wealthy men who have a bone to pick with your father. He made a shit ton of enemies. Most of them would love to fuck the defiance out of you. ”

His words felt like worms crawling all over my skin and I could feel the nausea churn inside me.

“I’m not signing the bakery over. You can call the creditors. I still have another year and half to pay the one remaining loan and they won’t come for me till then.” I felt my head begin to throb and Jungkook sighed.

“Suit yourself.” He stood up and I stayed still, watching his tall frame tower over me with ease. He gave me a small bitter smile. It was fraught with hatred and I stared back at him, knowing the emotion was probably mirrored in my gaze.

“Beautiful Elena. As pretty as the day you left me at the altar.” He smirked and I flushed.

“Your vengeance is petty and pointless and unfair…just like you.” I said angrily, frustration building u at his words. The way he talked about our broken engagement like it even mattered. It hadn’t even been real. We had hardly spoken and my father had called the wedding off at the last moment. But apparently, that had been the last straw for the Jeons. They had come after my father’s entire existence with a single minded intent to destroy him and they had succeeded. The man was dead . His two sons were dead.

But apparently it wasn���t enough.

Jungkook stared at me, slipping his hands into his pockets.

“Maybe. But it’s also deadly and potent. And it won’t rest until I see you reduced to nothing but a whore on the streets, spreading your legs for every man who can afford you.” He laughed. “ Saying no is a luxury , one that you’ll soon be unable to afford.”

I refused to be cowed, refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing that his words scared me. Because they did.

They scared me so damn much.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This bed is so lumpy… I’m so sorry, unnie..” I said apologetically but Jisoo shook her head quickly, palms cupping my face as I held her elbows, gently lowering her to the bed. I stared at her feet, feeling my heart race at how swollen they looked. That can’t be normal, a voice whispered and

I didn’t know if that was normal and I had no money to take her to a clinic. The social center we usually went to only allowed three visits per month and we had used it all up. I wanted to throw caution to the wind and spend the thirty thousand won it would take but that would mean no groceries for a week and surely bread and eggs wouldn’t stretch that long, even if I could sneak meals in the restaurant for myself.

“I’ve been feeling a little dizzy…I’ll just sleep.” She said tiredly. She was thirty six weeks along, not due for another four weeks but her blood pressure was erratic. Her lab numbers were oscillating and there had been talks of an emergency c section. Even with insurance it was way more than I could afford but I had my own jewelry, a few expensive trinkets from my teenage years. I’d been obsessed with diamonds and my father had indulged me and I had a pair of earrings left. I’d already sold the rest but this would take care of the medical bills for the birth itself.

“My shift starts in ten minutes. I have to go. Give me a call if you need anything…” I said softly and I saw the familiar blank and listless look come into her eyes. I knew she was depressed, dealing with grief and pregnancy and loss but there was nothing I could do for her. Nothing. I had applied for a bunch of other jobs but they never wrote back. It wasn’t easy, being rejected over and over again but it wasn’t like there was much else I could do. And the truth was I was resigned to this, accepted that at some point I would have to take more loans and be stuck in an endless cycle of debt for the rest of my life.

And I had made peace with that.

There was no future for me. And I was okay with just surviving.

If only Jungkook would let me.

Apparently, watching me wipe down greasy tables and mop up floors and toilets trying to earn just enough to get a few square meals didn’t soothe his anger. It only fueled it. Jungkook couldn’t fathom that it had been six whole months of me on the streets of Seoul and I wasn’t completely destitute yet. I’d kept myself and my sister in law alive, safe and it pissed him off.

He wanted to see me broken and on my knees, begging him for help. The idea of me somehow surviving despite him taking everything away from me, it just didn’t sit well with him.

I couldn’t afford to have him as an enemy so all I could really hope was that one day he would wake up and give up. One day he would just wake up and decide that I wasn’t worth it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I walked into my shift and noticed a familiar pair of high heeled Louboutins , completely out of place in my seedy place of employment, I knew I was in trouble. Lisa sat against one of the booths and her gaze was fixated on the door which meant she was waiting for someone. And when her eyes narrowed at the sight of me, I just knew I was the someone.

She wants to get me fired.

It wasn’t rocket science and I felt the urge to turn right back around and leave.  But I tamped down on it. I could get through this. I would get through this. Lisa and Jungkook got off on invoking reactions and I wouldn’t give them that.

Except it wasn’t that easy.

It was a nightmare, watching her demand and reject and walk all over me but the sleeplessness from the past few days made spacing out easier and I just stared away at the wall as she yelled and complained and made a scene.

“You’ve stopped fighting? Finally giving up? Good…” She hissed when the manager apologized to her and told me to meet him after my shift and I felt myself tremble in indignation.

“I won’t fight you or Jungkook, you and I both know I can’t afford to.” I said quietly and she went still, something flashing in her eyes for a second. It was gone before I could fully process it but it had been there. Guilt.

Lisa wasn’t a terrible human. She had been a dear friend. We had grown up together and she had even hugged and teased me when I’d been betrothed to Jungkook, all those years ago. I had been twenty back then, naïve and spoiled. While Jungkook had taken my father’s entire legacy apart, piece by piece, Lisa had been nothing more than a pawn. I remembered all the times I had let her home, how she would disappear for lengths of time.

Planting bugs all over the house. All over his office. Jungkook had been smart. Someone like Lisa, so fascinated by thr wealth she had grown up around would naturally jump at the idea of more. It wasn’t greed. It was human nature. And with her help he had destroyed everything my father had built over decades.

I shuddered. My father hadn’t been a good man. He had been greedy, yes. But he hadn’t deserved to die. And Jungkook would have to pay for that sin, someday.

“There’s a job waiting for you in Hoseok’s club.” She smiled cruelly , “ you don’t need this one.”

“The fact that you want to take it away from me, tells me that maybe there’s nothing left in you save.” I said blankly and she turned her nose up at me.

“I have Jungkook. I don’t need to be saved.”

I shook my head. She was so naïve. Men like Jungkook cared for nothing but themselves. But I wondered if women like her didn’t care for anything but the money that came with being his. Money was precious, I thought bitterly. I’d never realized how privileged I had been until I’d had it all ripped away.

“He’s the one you need saving from. And one day you’ll realize that.” I shrugged, not in the mood to offer her anymore life advice.  If she was alright with being a trophy wife in exchange for a few pretty shoes that was her prerogative.

Before she could reply,  my phone rang.

“Hello?” I asked nervously and I felt my heart drop to my knees when I heard who it was.

I turned on my heel rushing inside and my manager gave me a look of surprise.

“ My sister..she’s… she’s sick. I need to go.” I said desperately and his eyes narrowed. It was the worst timing. He was already annoyed because of Lisa and I stared in disbelief as he quickly shook his head.

“No. I’m sorry Elena…I just can’t let you leave like that…” He said sharply.

It was so unfair.

“I haven’t taken a single day off in five months…” I said desperately..” Please, she’s pregnant..She needs me, she-“

“If you leave, you won’t have a job to come back to. I can’t do this.. First you make trouble with a customer and now you just want to walk out in the middle of your shift without any notice…”

“Fine. Fire me.” I snapped, because I’d just had enough of it. I was exhausted, and tomorrow I’d go knocking on some other tore and I’d get a job. I lived in Seoul …How hard could it be? For now, I had to get to Jisoo. I had to get the hospital and things would be okay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t okay.

“I… You want to keep her in? So soon?”

“Her blood pressure is through the roof. There are signs of severe pre eclampsia and we want to get her started on a magnesium drip. Steroids to help the baby’s lungs incase we need to deliver…”

“Deliver..?” I couldn’t breathe.

“Yes, I’m sorry…. If her blood pressure doesn’t come down we’re going to have to deliver.”

I nodded, glancing at the bed where Jisoo was sleeping, her face swollen and I knew that she was sick. Really sick. She looked pallid and ill.

“Is she going to be okay?” I asked hoarsely.

“We’re going to do what we can… But I’m going to be honest, we’re looking at a c section, a lot of meds and also some time in the NICU for the baby…. Can you afford it? Your sister’s insurance only covers 80% .”

I blinked, completely thrown. White noise rushed through my ears,  a dull throb settling right at the base of my skull and beginning to spread all the way to my arms and back. It was panic mixed wth anxiety mixed with despair and I couldn’t quite cope. The earrings wouldn’t cover all that.

“Oh… Oh..yeah.” I said dully, “ Of course I can… Let me just…. Can I have a moment? There’s somethings I need to do.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I carefully slipped the cash into the envelope, swallowing as I sat on the pavement. I’d got another call from the hospital, they had administered the steroids but Jisoo’s condition seemed to be worsening. They wanted to try inducing labour soon but they wanted me to pay for the room and for the medicines, and apparently, the earrings weren’t as valuable as I thought they were.

I fought nausea wrapping arms around myself as I stared at the cars whizzing by, the putrid city air clogging my lungs as I tried to come to terms with what was happening. Jisoo needed help. She was the only one left and she carried my brother’s son. I felt my throat clog when I thought of Daehwan. He had been a good guy. I had loved him. It wasn’t fair, what Jungkook had done to my family, I thought miserably .

And the only reason I wasn’t driven by vengeance or anger was because I was nothing like Jungkook. I hated him. I didn’t want him to live in my head, didn’t want to waste any part of myself on him , not even my anger. But it was hard when he wouldn’t let me breathe, always at my heels like a wolf : jaws snapping and blood thirsty eyes trained on me at all times. I couldn’t fathom his obsession sometimes. Surely, his hatred was uncalled for now? He’d taken everything from me anyway.  

There was a dull roaring in my ears, one that said that this was not really a surprise. I’d thought about it way too often, had considered it countless times. Had even spent one absolutely horrifying evening scouring the streets of Seoul’s red light district just to see how sex workers behaved.

I’d also realized that in the face of desperation, dignity didn’t hold much value.

You are going to pay your debts on your back and on your knees.

The first time Jungkook had thrown it at my face, eyes glinting with glee, my stomach had rebelled so hard. I’d been absolutely infuriated, had thrown a vase at him. And it had been awful,  watching him catch it out of the air with ease, his mocking laughter making my bones rattle as he shook his head, “ That’s how this ends, Elena. Mark my words.”

And it was pitiful ,  that he went through life so consumed with hatred and vindictive cruelty that he couldn’t leave me alone . He was pathetic. That’s how I saw him. A pathetic child who refused to stop tormenting the helpless ant on the floor although it was no match for his cruelty.

At some point Jungkook was going to win. And his idea of winning was seeing me stripped bare of the one thing that kept me alive : my freedom.

It had just happened sooner than I’d thought.

Because I knew what it would mean, to go to Hoseok. He would own me. Hoseok’s whores were all slaves, tangled in his web so badly that there was no hope of escape. He wasn’t cruel but he was smart. No one left the his ‘ agency’ once they went in. I would be lost, forever. And I couldn’t stomach it.

I stared at my knees, fists clenched on the fabric of my skirt. I grabbed my phone, scrolling through the contacts. I considered it carefully. I had to do this on my terms. Had to make sure I retained some sort of control here.

And I knew just how to do it.

Hoseok picked up on the third ring.

“Hello.”

“I need help.” I croaked out.

The deep chuckle made my skin crawl.

“Elena Gong. What a wonderful, wonderful surprise. What can I do you for?” He drawled.

“Well sweetheart, I’m all out of charity so you’re going to have to make it worth my while.”

I took a deep breath.

“I’m a virgin.” I whispered.

The line went completely silent.

“What?” The amusement in his voice died.

“You heard me and I’ll let you cash in on it. I’ll let you auction it off…” I tamped down on the burning protest in my lung, the screaming inside my head that said it was horrifying, that I was considering this. “ But only if you keep my terms.”

“What makes you think you have a say in that.” He said sharply and I laughed.

“I belong to your world, Hoseok. Did you forget that we were friends, once.” I whispered and he didn’t reply.

Laughter, kindness, a big brother I could always count on, hobi oppa, nine year old me with my fingers curled around his wrist as we ran all around the gardens , a smile so wide that he could spread sunshine on the gloomiest days. Different from Jungkook and Namjoon and Yoongi and the others. Willing to include a ‘ girl’ in his playtime. Lisa and I the only girls, not even fazed watching as the rest of them wielded toy guns and mock interrogation scenes, pretending to kill and maim and torture because that was the world we were born into.

“We’re not friends, Elena. Let’s get that straight. The only part of you that holds any value to me is th part between your legs. So tell me, what do you want.”

“When was the last time you auctioned off someone’s virginity? You know how much money you can make off something like that. Not just from the sale itself but from the entire night. Your club… Your gaming hell…. All of it.”

“You expect me to believe you’re a virgin. At twenty seven.” He scoffed.

“Put the word out, everywhere. If you find one man who says he’s slept with me , I’ll back off.”

“That would require me to tarnish your  family name. And you’re alright with that?”

I smiled biotterly.

“Isn’t that what you and your precious Jungkookie want? To see the last living Gong, be labeled as a whore and a slut.”

He didn’t reply.

“I’ll give you that. You can do it… You know that will only interest more people. As Jungkook so eloquently put it, most of them would love to fuck the defiance out of me.”

“What’s the catch. What do you want. ”

“2 billion won.”  I said firmly “It will be one night. One night only and I want enough money to pay off every one of my father’s debts, to get me an apartment for my sister in law and to support her and her baby for a year at least.”

“Done.” He said without missing a beat and I went still. What must it be like, to throw around money like that without a care in the world. And it sickened me that Jungkook was probably ten times as rich as Hoseok , the money my father owed him and his associates not even pocket change in comparison to his gargantuan wealth and yet, he stayed on my heels, snapping his jaws like a dog with a bone.

“And Jungkook doesn’t get to watch.” I said softly, knowing exactly what Jungkook would get off on.

That made Hoseok laugh.

“You know him too well. I keep forgetting he was madly in love with you once.”

I resisted the urge to vomit. Jungkook didn’t know love. He knew ownership. He didn’t love me, he thought he owned me. That I was his to play with…. For the rest of his life. And when my father had denied him that, just like a toddler in a toy store being denied a shiny toy to break and trample on, he had thrown a temper tantrum.

Except his tantrums always ended in death and destruction.

“That’s the deal. He doesn’t turn up there to gloat.”

“He’s heading out to Switzerland for a week , two days from now.” Hoseok said evenly.

“Good then. My sister in law…she “ I swallowed. “ She’s in a hospital in Yongsan. I’ll send you the address.”  

“I’ll take care of it. But I want you here tonight. I’m not going to drop a couple billion won on your head without making sure I’m getting my money’s worth. And I can’t have you changing your mind and bolting either. My reputation is on the line here. If I put out the word that I’m serving something so fucking delicious and then back out, they’re not going to want to buy Hobi’s wares anymore. You understand what I’m saying darling?” Hoseok drawled and I knew exactly what he was saying. If I agreed to this, it was blanket consent for him to whatever he wanted.

“I won’t back out. I can’t. But this is one night. One night with whichever bastard you choose and that’s it. I want out.  I don’t want you or Jungkook hounding me again. Ever.” My voice shook as I dug my fingers into my knees.  

“My men will be there in ten minutes. Sit tight, princess.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I stared at Hoseok as he carefully poured me a finger of whiskey, neat. He gave me a smirk and I shrugged.

“you remember.” I said casually, throat itching because it had been way too long since I’d had quality alcohol. I missed the burn,  the warmth , the numbness that followed.

“Of course I do. You could drink all of us under the table with little effort. It was spectacular.” He laughed and I leaned back against the couch, letting my head fall back.

“I was half certain that you would have a doctor around to make sure I’m a virgin.” I stared at him and he shrugged. “ Pointless. You’re twenty seven, you’ve probably had stuff up there anyway… Not like your hymen’s still going to be intact.”

I thought it was rather horrifying, that I didn’t feel nearly as mortified as I should. This was how Hoseok talked, matter of fact and open and that was why he was so popular. Anytime an important person came into the country, Hobi was the one who offered entertainment for the night. Hobi’s girls were always the prettiest, most well behaved and perfect. They were educated, knew what they were talking about and he didn’t force them into the life. They loved it, enjoyed it and it showed.

Not to say he was a saint.

Far from it.

Hoseok knew how to dine with kings in castles  but also how to wrestle with  swine in the gutter. The seedy brothels in Seoul’s back alleys were his as well, and he ruled his kingdom with an iron hand. The prostitutes there feared him, one look or word enough to silence any rebellion, any thought of escape.

He was called Hope. And yet somehow that was exactly what he denied the women under him. There was no hope here. There was only lust and power and money. You came to Hobi…. You never left .

I took the glass he offered, taking a small sip, savoring the taste.

“But you believe me. I wonder why.” I watched him closely and he scoffed.

“Between your father and Jungkook, no one ever really had the pluck to come anywhere near you  did they?”

Undisputable.

I sighed, leaning back to stare at him.

“Do you think dying hurts?” I asked softly.

It was frightening, how his entire body went stiff, eyes wide and jaw dropping.

“Elena, what the fuck-“

“Its just a question. You’ve killed people. You’ve watched them die… how do you think they feel?” I asked , curious.

“None of them wanted to die. If that’s what you’re asking.” The look in his eyes made me nervous.

I stared at him and the question was obvious. None of them wanted to die, but do you?

I didn’t.

“I’m not thinking of killing myself , oppa.  Stop looking so horrified.” I laughed. He shook his head.

“ Don’t joke about that. It’s not fucking funny.”

I sobered up, remembering with a jolt. Ah, of course.

“I’m sorry. I forgot.” I said quietly.

Hoseok’s little sister had killed herself when I was seventeen. She was a year older than me and her father had lost her in a wager to a seventy year old man, known for torturing his bedmates. She had heard the news, taken a deep breath and taken a deep dive off the seventeeth floor of the condo where she lived with her mother.

I’d been engaged to Jungkook by then. And I had almost wanted it. Jungkook wasn’t old at least… twenty one to my seventeen.

“Just so you know, he’s going to find out. And he’s not going to like it.”

I shrugged. Three years is a long time to be preyed upon and now my mind was resigned to a life of being hunted. Hoseok was right. Jungkook would find out and he wouldn’t like it.

Good.

“I don’t care what he does anymore. All I care is that Jisoo and the baby are left out of whatever plans he has…. If you promise me you’ll keep them safe , I’ll cooperate.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a baby boy.

I stared, fingers itching to hold the baby but it was impossible, the little one whisked away to the NICU right after with respiratory distress and Jisoo had gone into a seizure, eyes rolling back into her eyes.

She as alright now, resting in a VIP room with the best care money could buy. Hoseok had asked me if I was happy with the arrangements, and if I would name the boy after him.

I stared at the room, large and breezy and filled with flowers and gifts, toys and baby stuff and I knew right then that I had sealed my fate. I was going to have to go through with this. I could imagine how much Jisoo would protest when she came to her senses. The only relief was that it would take her a few days to be good enough to fight or protest. But then this would all be over and done with.

Jungkook would leave this afternoon. His flight was at three.

I would reach the club at five. The patrons would arrive at seven.

One night, I reminded myself , staring at the gentle rise and fall of Jisoo’s chest as she slept, my fingers playing with the soft skin on her wrist. The IV line went through her veins and I watched the gentle drip of it.

One night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I didn’t know how auctions happened and while I’d been prepared for the worst kind of humiliation,  Hoseok assured me that he wasn’t going to make me stand naked on some podium or something.

“Generally, I would do something like that simply for the flair of it but consider this a favor ….a respite because you were, as you said, once a friend.” He gave me an even smile and I could only nod in mute relief.

I was grateful. Beyond grateful.

And what was more, he hadn’t told anyone, who I was.

That stunned me. Because wasn’t that the selling point? The murderous, greedy mob rat Gong Hyo Suk’s only daughter forced to spread her legs for one lucky stranger? If Hoseok had cashed in on that he would have made a fortune. But he hadn’t. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Would , whoever it was be upset if he recognized me?

I was led to a bedroom, large and tastefully decorated with silky satin sheets and dark curtains and dim lighting that lit up parts of the room and left other parts plunged in darkness. Hoseok had told me to wear whatever I wanted and I realized with a pang that he really didn’t see this as some sort of transaction. He was trying to make it as easy as possible without making any decisions for me. Offering me choices and options and some illusion of being in control.

I didn’t have anything fancy so it was just a dress shirt that I borrowed from Hoseok. I’d left the underwear off, eager to merely get the whole thing over with. I felt a sudden overwhelming urge to laugh out loud.

If Jungkook were here he really would have lost his damn mind, simply because of how little this whole thing affected me. And that was it, really. He was always desperate for a reaction.

Earlier when this whole thing had started, I’d obliged him with that. I would scream, rant and yell….launch myself at him like a wildcat, scratching at him , fists flying  and it was obscene, how much he seemed to enjoy that. He would press me up against walls and tables , fingers choking the breath out of my lung, just so he could see me struggle and push back.

He fed off from every negative reaction I offered him and it had taken me a long long time that the way to beat him was to become passive, unresponsive. I would go limp in his arms, stare at him blankly as he tried to manhandle me and that…that had pissed him off. Because that meant I wasn’t playing his game anymore.

If the prey wasn’t playing, the game wasn’t fun anymore. It was drab.

Boring.

And I knew that Jungkook kept raising the stakes, kept tightening the noose around my neck….just to bring that girl out again. The one that had wanted to put up a fight . The one that wanted to mouth off even with the muzzle of a gun pressed against her head. The one who would spit in his face in front of all his associates, even if it earned her a vicious strike of his hand across her face.

I shuddered. They weren’t memories I liked reliving.

Well, if that was who he wanted, I’d make sure he would never see her again.

The door opening made me jump and Hoseok came in , with a wide grin on his face.

“Baby…. Your guest for the night.” He said softly and I peered over his shoulders, my heart and mind grinding to a halt when I caught sight of what had to be the most breathtakingly beautiful man on the face of the planet.

I felt my heart begin to pound, fear taking over because this wasn’t okay. Not really. I was okay with old, creepy and disgusting , not able to get it up for more than ten minutes.

I wasn’t okay with someone who looked like they stepped right out of the latest issue of GQ.

Hoseok left quickly, closing the door behind him and the man stepped into the light, the brightness lighting up his perfect features even more. I felt my throat go dry, and fought the urge to get up and run. Growing up as the daughter of a mobster , I’d learned how to trust my instincts over appearances.

And right now, every single one of those instincts screamed at me that this man was absolutely dangerous.

“Well, you are beautiful. I’ll give you that. “ He said casually.

“Thank you.” I said stiltedly, watching as he tugged on his tie, pulling it off his neck deftly . Instead of tossing it aside , he wrapped it a bunch of times around his wrist over and over as he smiled at me.

“Don’t thank me yet. The only reason I like beautiful things is because of how easily they break.” He smiled.  “ I haven’t been with a virgin in a while…. I miss the screams.”

And there it was the full blown panic that came with stark terror. I crawled back on the bed, staring as he moved closer and there was no mistaking the look on his face, the harsh grip of his hand on my ankle telling me that I was going to regret every one of the choices that led me here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hoseok wasn’t at the airport.” Jungkook observed casually, glancing at Yoongi as the latter finished cleaning his gun carefully, eyes fixed on his weapon with utmost concentration.

“He’s holding some sort of auction tonight. Some chick …” Yoongi said casually and Jungkook hummed. It was not the kind of thing he was interested in. Anonymous bids were often boring : actresses or female idols past their prime, desperate to make some money to survive. He had no interest in those but he was a little peeved that Hoseok hadn’t told him anything about it.

Hoseok was one of Jungkook’s most trusted friends. He was almost as powerfully rich as Jungkook and the only reason Jungkook reigned supreme was because Hoseok had no interest in challenging him for the throne. Hoseok was dangerous and cunning and loyal and Jungkook was grateful to have him on his side and he had hoped to see him before leaving. Just to ask him to keep an eye on Elena.

He grimaced, hating himself.

God, he couldn’t go two hours without thinking of her. It fucked with his head, the amount of space she took up inside him. Jungkook , for all his wealth and power, was driven solely by his need to prove himself. He wanted to be powerful and terrifying yes, but more than that , he wanted people to know.

He wanted people to look him in the eye and acknowledge him for what he was : the most dangerous man in the country. He liked seeing that fear, that worship, that admiration. He got off on it. He wanted it , craved it and for some reason he craved it more from her , than anyone else.

And instead of giving him what he wanted, instead of begging on her knees for mercy, instead of licking his shoes and begging for him to let her live….she ignored him. She looked at him with defiance and pride, her chin straight and her back unbending, her gaze locked right on him like she was his fucking equal….

And Jungkook, he’d taken a lot of insults. Taken more than his fair share of hits in life …..

But when she looked at him like that , like he was something stuck to the bottom of her shoe….

Fuck it drove him wild with fury.

It made him want to teach her a fucking lesson, to remind her that he owned her because he owned everything. To break her down, snuff out the flames of defiance that burned so bright in those ember eyes… Take her into his bed and brand her with his body. Till she was on the floor, on her knees covered in his spit and cum begging for mercy….

Because no one looked at Jeon Jungkook like that and lived to tell the tale..

“Seokjin’s here. Landed in Korea a couple of hours ago. ” Yoongi said casually and Jungkook smiled a bit at that. He loved his older brother, technically a step brother and growing up he had only saw him when he visited his mother in China. That meant a couple of months a year and now as adults,  a bit more often because Seokjin loved Jungkook and liked to visit him often.

Seokjin was a celebrity trainer, working with actors and athletes and he did a good amount of modeling as well. He was rich,  handsome and well liked and the only thing that gave away the Jeon blood in him was the fact that he was a sexual sadist.

The face of an angel with a devilish streak, he had a penchant for sadism and inflicting pain on his partners and while Jungkook didn’t particularly enjoy indulging him, he knew there were women who were into that and usually had them arranged for when Seokjin dropped by in Korea. His hyung’s visit seldom lasted more than a few weeks at a time and it was a pity that he would miss out one whole week of it .

But the issue in Switzerland was a little pressing and Jungkook had to be there in person to sort it out.

He leaned back against the seat, staring out of the window, sighing.

“An unsullied dove ….What the fuck is this shit..” Yoongi muttered and Jungkook turned, curious.

“What?”

“Hoseok’s been hyping up some new girl for the auction and Seokjin hyung’s bidding on her.”

Jungkook laughed at that.

“Jungkook…..” Yoongi’s voice is completely stunned, his eyes confused as he looks up at Jungkook.”  Its Elena.”

Jungkook’s thought process came to a grinding halt.

There’s a sound between his ears, a dull rushing sound like the wind in a storm and he can’t quite comprehend what he just heard. Even Namjoon who had been buried in his laptop , looked up then, tugging an airpod out of his ear.

“Wait…did you say Elena?” His eyes were wide , lips parted in shock. Yoongi and Namjoon exchanged glances, no doubt bracing themselves for the explosion that was to follow.

Jungkook took a deep breath.

“Turn the fucking plane around.”

That jolted Namjoon out of his stunned stupor..

“Turn-? Jungkook what…. We’re on a fourteen hour flight-“ Namjoon began but the look on Jungkook’s face made him stop.

“DID I FUCKING STUTTER?”

Namjoon swore.

“Fucking hell… alright just calm the fuck down, Jesus…just put a fucking bullet in that girl’s head and spare us all the headache fuck…” He growled, unbuckling his seat belt and rushing to the cockpit and Yoongi groaned.

“ Let me guess you want me to get in touch with someone in Seoul and ask Hoseok to hold off on letting Seokjin near her…”

Jungkook glared at him.

“If you already know that why the fuck are you still here…” He growled and Yoongi gave him a look.

“Just tell her you’re in love with her and let us live, Jeon Jungkook.”

In love….. what the fuck….

He glared at Yoongi’s back, his asinine words making him madder. God he wanted to crush someone’s skull into dust with his bare hands.

And right now, in his head , that skull belonged to Jung fucking Hoseok.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 “What just happened?” I asked, frantic staring at the door as Hoseok’s men casually led a fuming Seokjin away while the man himself stared at me, looking pale as parchment.

“ Jungkook found out.” He said shortly and I felt my heart drop although I was half relieved because there had been something insane in Kim Seokjin’s gaze when he’d reached for me , a cruel glint of hunger that told me he would have hurt me really badly if Hoseok hadn’t barged into the room , frantic and worried.

He had given Seokjin a wide smile and then, “ I’m so sorry. We were waiting on her blood results and turns out she has a…. well, certain occupational disease that is very infectious.”

Seokjin’s mouth had dropped open even wider than mine.

“I thought she was a fucking virgin.” He had snapped, and I flinched at how cold and furious he had sounded.

But apparently there was a reason this whole thing had happened.

“What do you mean Jungkook knows? What does that mean?” I asked frantically, fear taking over.

“ He’s heading back here… He wants to see you.”

I felt my entire body go ice cold as I shook my head…

“No…fucking no bring Seokjin back here , he can fuck me that was the fucking deal, Hobi, please don’t../…”

“Elena , I’m so fucking sorry.. Seokjin…he’s fucked in the head…. He likes hurting his whores, likes making them bleed and he would have fucking destroyed you…”

I gaped at him horrified.

“What?!” I hissed shaking my head in disbelief.

“He’s Jungkook’ stepbrother. I’ve arranged whores for him before, I knew he was a little crazy but I’d never seen him before and I didn’t know he was the Kim Seokjin…fuck he outbid everyone and fucker looks like a fucking angel, how the fuck was I supposed to know he’s unhinged? Thankfully, I messaged Yoongi and …. Fuck… Listen… I know I paid for your sister’s surgery but you’re going to have to pay me back….”

I felt my body convulse in rebellion.

“I can’t.. You know I fucking can’t…”

“I can’t make an enemy out of Jungkook…. I can’t.” Hoseok shook his head. “ You can get out of here now if you want but I’d advise you to stay. If you run it’s only going to make Jungkook angrier.”

“WHAT DID I FUCKING DO TO HIM?!!!” I screamed, feeling my composure crumble into smithereens. “WHAT THE FUCK DOES HE WANT FROM ME?!!”

Hoseok flinched, stepping back and holding his hands up.

“Whether I want to or not, I answer to Jungkook.  I shouldn’t have done this in the first place , I’m sorry Elena.” He shook his head and stepped back like the coward that he was and I wanted to hurt him. To shake him and ask him to fucking remember who I was. That I had nothing to do with my father’s sins . That I had been a fucking marionette in his hands, had wanted nothing more than to be left alone.

I stared at him in disbelief.

“So much for being a friend…” I whispered.

His jaw tightened. But he didn’t look guilty. None of them ever did. It was like guilt didn’t exist in their world. They did what they wanted to whoever they wanted , whenever they wanted and they got away with it because that bastard’s word was law. What Jeon Jungkook wanted, he got.

“I’ll get your clothes sent in.”

I watched him leave, the door slamming shut behind him and sagged against the bed, staring at myself. What had just happened?

Was I born to endless misery and misfortune?

Couldn’t I catch a fucking break?

I’d agreed to sell myself hadn’t I? Would have even let Seokjin hurt me if that was what he wanted. Because it was one night. It was one night of this…whatever the hell this was and then freedom. That was the deal.

The door opened again and I stared as a young girl brought me a pile of my clothes neatly folded.

“Do you work here?” I said sharply.

She blinked before bowing her head.

“Yes, mistress.”

I scoffed.

“Don’t call me mistress , I’m here to get fucked, just like you. Tell me does Jungkook ever use the women here.” I demanded.

She looked trapped, glancing at the door, clearly wanting to run .

“Tell me.” I snapped and she flinched.

“I..uh..yes. Sometimes.” She said softly.

“Can you tell whoever fucks him next to kick him in the fucking balls?”

The girl bowed deeply and all but ran out and I sighed, feeling myself shaking. Jungkook was on the way here and I wanted to yell and scream and rave at him but I knew that was exactly what he wanted. I wanted to deny him the satisfaction …wanted to act all cool and composed in front of him but it was impossible…

Because I hadn’t realized just how tired I was of this whole thing, till right this moment, when the end had been in sight. I was supposed to get my two billion won pay off all the debt , give Jisoo the rest of the money and disappear. I was so tired, so tired of this life I’d gotten trapped into, slaving over for hours on end just to afford a couple of meals a day. No friends, no boyfriends, no hope of a future …..

The door banged open and I jumped, crawling back when I recognized the man who had just entered.

“Yoongi-“

“Jungkook wants to see you.” He ground out and I swallowed.

“I need to get dressed. Please just wait outside.” I said shakily.

And then the door opened further and a tall looming shadow stepped in familiar and vomit inducing.

Jungkook looked livid, piercing glinting through the dimply lit room and I stared at him. He was dressed in a tight black t shirt, he sleeves stretched thin over his biceps and the tattoos stark against his skin.

“Leave us.” He said softly and Yoongi moved away to the door leaving me alone with the devil himself. I cursed myself for not putting at least my panties on, I was naked underneath this shirt and although it was big it left nothing to the imagination.

Jungkook’s eyes raked over my form before resting on my face.

“You think you’re smart enough to outsmart me, Elena?” He whispered softly.

I swallowed.

“Send you brother back in. He can fuck me and I’ll pay you back.”

Jungkook hummed, stepping closer and grabbing my clothes from the bed, he grabbed the plain white bra and the pastel pink underwear and then to my complete and utter mortification he brought the clothing up to his face, breathing in .

“Fucking pervert!!!” I screamed, feeling the action like a physical touch and wanting to claw his eyes out and the smirk on his face told me that this was exactly what he wanted but I was too fucking gone to care.

“If you want me to be a whore, fine. I’ll be a whore. But on my terms…” I spat out and he shook his head, laughing.

“I don’t just want you to be a whore, Elena. I want everyone to know that you are one…” He dropped my clothes and moved closer, holding a hand out. “ Come here.”

I stared at the inked fingers, adorned with sterling silver rings and bracelets with the motifs of his gang. I shook my head.

“No. I’m not playing this game with you.” I turned my face away.

His hand shot out gripping my upper arm with enough strength to bruise and I screamed, agony shooting up my arm and shoulders as he dragged me off the bed and onto the floor. I landed hard, hips and elbows bruising from impact and I stared at him in disbelief.

“I’ve been to gentle with you. You’ve forgotten your fucking place.” He bent over and grabbed me by my hair, yanking me to my feet so hard that it felt like my scalp had been ripped away from my skull.

“Okay…okay…Okay Jungkook..just…!!” I said softly, flinching because my pain tolerance was almost zero and Jungkook’s grip was so hard that my eyes were beginning to water now. He let me go, grabbing my panties off the floor and tossing them at me.

“I’m going to count to five. Put those on and get out.”

He walked out of the door and I stumbled a little fumbling with the fabric before quickly, slipping my legs in and yanking it up to my waist. I made to put on something else but his voice came, loud and impatient.

“Get the fuck out here.”

I walked out of the door and he was standing there next to Hoseok. I couldn’t meet either of their gazes , hating how they had so much power over my life. I stared at the floor. It was tempting to yell at them and scream but that never led anywhere.

“ I’ve asked them to stop the payment on the Hospital bill. Seeing as Elena hasn’t kept her end of the bargain.”

I felt my breath hitch at that, willing down the tears as I glared at him.

“What do you want?” I snapped. “ Tell me who you want me to fuck…. I’ll do it. Let’s get this over with so you can go back to whatever sewer you fucking climbed out of. ….”

Hoseok’s breath caught like he couldn’t believe what I’d just said and the look in his eye was a warning but I was sick of this. Sick of them all.

Jungkook turned to Hoseok with a laugh.

“You see hyung? See why I can’t let her go? If I let her scot free, everyone’s going to think I’m a pushover….that any worthless bitch can talk to me any way she wants and get away with it….” He shook his head, staring at me with a glint in his eye. “ I’m not going to choose. They are. You think you can charm your way into Hoseok’s heart and get special treatment? You think you’re ready to be a whore, Elena? Let me show you how a real whore gets treated in Hoseok’s club.”

He gripped my wrist, yanking me behind him as he stalked off down the narrow corridor that opened up into the club. I let myself get dragged out into the club dismally aware of the fact that I was wearing nothing but Hoseok’s shirt. I could feel eyes on me but I kept mine on the back of Jungkook’s head as he dragged me all the way to the front. I knew what he was going to do and at this point I was just numb.

There was no point reasoning with the devil.

I glared at him as he pointed at the stage. “ Get up there.” He whispered harshly.

I stared back at him, not moving. I saw Jungkook’s jaw clench.

“Either you go up there by yourself, with your clothes on. Or I carry you up there, after stripping you naked. What’s it going to be? ”

I glared at him, pursing my lips before climbing up using the small stair in the side. I moved to the center, right in front of the stage lights, so the rest of the room would disappear. I had no wish to see any of the bastards in the room.

“I think all of you recognize this little beauty here, don’t you?” Jungkook’s voice was cheerful, friendly even and I bit my lips, fists clenched. “ Well, if you don’t let me tell you . This is Gong Hyo Suk’s daughter. Remember that bastard? He put a hit out on my father. Killed him and my mom on the night I was supposed to be marrying his fucking daughter. A daughter who later called off the wedding, because I was too poor now, to give her the life she deserved. ”

I felt the familiar ice cold guilt in my vein. I was seventeen, I wanted to scream. I was seventeen and all I did was say what my father asked me to say, do what my father asked me to do.

“ That was nine fucking years ago… and you know what I told myself…. I told myself, that a greedy little bitch like this, doesn’t deserve shit.” He laughed. “ If money’s what she values the most, then the only thing she deserves is to be treated like the whore she is.”

“Why don’t you guys tell me, how much money you’d be willing to spend, to fuck her? Come on, Hobi’s been treating you guys so well lets help him make some money tonight… be generous. ”

I could barely hear what they were calling out but when Jungkook climbed onto the stage next to me, I jumped. Moving back instinctively, I winced when brought a forearm around my throat nearly choking me as he dragged up against his body.

“90 million won….That’s a lot.” He grinned. “ Jihan hyung….. that was you right? You’re gonna pay 90 million won for her?”

I felt my heart race, it was a lot. More than enough for the Hospital Bills, would even leave extra to get a decent apartment somewhere... I grabbed his wrist as it pressed into my throat, trying to pull his hand off me but he just wrapped his free hand around my waist, wrapping his entire body around mine and chuckling into my hair.

Jungkook pressed his head against mine and I froze, hating the close contact.

“Okay…but since I’m feeling a bit left out here…Why don’t I pitch in… 500 Won.” Jungkook said loud and clear.

I froze. An eerie silence fell over the club, laughter stilling and the clink of glasses slowing down.

What.

I struggled to get away from his but his hold tightened.

“Anyone else?” He called out. “ Come on… Not even thousand? Surely you think this one here’s worth a thousand won? Aren’t you going to outbid me?”

No one responded of course they didn’t. Jungkook’s anger was palpable and no one was going to get on his wrong side …..

“Ahh… is that it then? Bid’s going to close for 500 won then…. Hear that baby?” He whispered against my ears and I swallowed. “ 90, million won to five hundred won in a few seconds… What does that tell you?”

“It tells me you’re a fucking psychopath in love with your own voice… Get off me.” I hissed.

“No. What it tells you is that only I get to decide how much that body of yours is worth, not you. . You don’t get to go sell your fucking body behind my back for two billion won and then pay off all your debts and ride off into the sunset, that is not how this works….”

I went limp in his arms fighting tears because he never played fair. Never.

“Hear that Hoseok-ah… I win her for the night for 500 won…fair and square…. Is that alright?” He called out into the darkness and I felt the first inkling of dread begin to seep in.

“No.. No… get off me.” I hissed and he laughed, dragging me off the stage with ease. I screamed, kicking out in disbelief.

Jungkook grinned at me, before grabbing both my arms and yanking them behind me, and I whimpered, unable to move as he easily pulled me along to the door that opened into the hallway. Behind us I heard Hoseok’s voice.

“Jungkook, don’t be impulsive. Think about whatever you’re going to do.”

I flinched at that, panic building.

“He’s not going to do anything. I’ll fucking kill him if he touches me , I-“

“Shut the fuck up, you little bitch.” He shook me hard till my teeth rattled and I sobbed out.

“Jungkook…” Hoseok warned but he merely snarled.

“I know what I’m doing hyung, just…. Don’t disturb us. And make sure everyone here knows that she’s open for business.” It was loud enough to carry through the club and I felt humiliation burn my throat, acrid like acid.

I froze in disbelief.

“Jungkook …” Hoseok’s voice held a tone of reproach.

“ And tell them that her body is amazing. Tell them she spent the night with me , the best fuck I’ve ever had , mouth made for cock.”

I stared straight ahead as he pulled me all the way to the room we had left earlier and I tripped when he shoved me inside, landing on my hands and knees . I quickly rolled back around to land on my ass, crawling back as he slammed the door shut and locked it from the inside.

He stared down at me, mouth grim.

“You do owe me a wedding night. I was so ready to fuck your tight cunt, nine years ago… I think I’ve waited long enough yeah.”

I stared at him in disbelief. I knew exactly what he wanted me to do, to yell and scream and protest and fight so he could get off and forcing me…. Fucking psychopath.

I took a deep breath and nodded.

“If you pay for my sister in laws bills, and give me an apartment sure. “ I shrugged. “You’re not any different from any of the bastards here. I don’t give a damn which one of you idiots wants to rut into me like the absolute animal that you are…. I don’t care…” I said softly.

“you don’t? Really? You want me to tell you what your brother said when one of my men put a gun into his mouth…. He begged for his life…said he had a kid on the way….” Jungkook laughed, shaking his head. “I told him it was better than what his father did…. My sister was six months pregnant when his lieutenant gunned her down on the streets.”

I shuddered, wrapping my arms around myself.

“Why are you telling me this…” I snapped.

“Because she didn’t deserve it did she, Elena? She didn’t fucking deserve to die like that , like a dog on the street when she had nothing to do with any of this…. She didn’t deserve it.” He growled, bending down and gripping my chin hard.

“Maybe she did deserve it.” I spat out. “ If I deserve to be here, maybe your sister deserved to die too. “

He snarled, hand flying to my hair and dragging me up off the floor in one sharp yank. I whimpered as he pushed me on the bed, before climbing on top of me. I felt like every bone in my body was about to snap in two, the weight of him unbearable on me.

“I won the bid tonight…. I won it fair and square… You signed the waiver didn’t you…that you agreed to the auction…I won and I’m going to fucking collect.” He growled, and I kicked out, trying to buck him off of my body.

“Get off me.” I hissed. “ I’m not letting you fuck me for 500 won.”

“How about for your Jisoo then?” He whispered and I went still.

“What?”

He chuckled, reaching down and I felt my pulse pound as he pulled his phone out, dialing quickly and turning on the speakers.

Yoongi’s voice made me go ice cold. Everyone knew what Yoongi did for Jungkook.

“Daehwan’s wife is in a hospital room in Yongsan. Hobi’s got the details. I think she’s served her purpose.”

“No!! JUNGKOOK NO!!” I  screamed , thrashing so hard my head began to spin but he grunted pressing down into me harder.

“Are you serious? I’m not home yet… I can take care of it tonight.” Yoongi said, voice casual and I sobbed, shaking my head in sheer terror.

“Okay… I’ll behave.. I promise.. please just don’t…”

Jungkook hummed.

“Well, that was easy… Yoongi-yah… why don’t you stay on the phone yeah…. Going to get that wedding night I’m owed and if my baby doesn’t co operate you know what to do, yeah?”  

I bit my lips, glaring into the sheets as he gripped my waist, pulling me up.

“Ass up like the bitch that you are, baby.” He whispered and I felt my entire body shudder in disgust. It was worse because I hadn’t done this before. Didn’t know what to expect. But I couldn’t let him know that. If Jungkook knew that I was a virgin, I could just imagine how much fun he’d have with that info.

Hands gripped my wrists, pinning them to the bed and I turned my face away when I felt the press of his lips on my cheeks. He gripped both my wrists with one hand, keeping them pinned over my head and I flinched when I felt his fingers pulling the fabric of my panties aside, just enough for the blunt head of his cock to press against my slit.

“Yoongi, you there?” Jungkook said softly and Yoongi grunted over the phone. I felt my face flame in embarrassment.

“You’re a sick bastard but I’m used to it. What’s up?” he said casually.

“Remember how we used to wonder just how tight Elena’s cunt was… back when we were in school.”

Fucking monster, I thought in disbelief. I hate him I hate him I hate him….

“Good times…” Yoongi chuckled lightly .

Jungkook pushed into me in one hard thrust and pain shot straight up my spine, my insides burning like he’d fucked me with a knife and not his body. I couldn’t stop the cry of agony that got torn of me, my eyes tearing up and tears spilling over onto my cheeks.

“Damn Jungkook, she okay?” Yoongi’s chuckle made me want to claw his face off, and just the urge to kill was growing inside me.

“Well, I can confirm that it is, in fact just as tight as we thought…” He grunted, thrusting into me at a pace that was inhumane, every push and drag of him rubbing my insides raw and I bit down on the sheets under me, afraid that I would do something absolutely humiliating, like beg him to stop.

“Good, you should let me take that tight ass for a ride someday then. With her permission of course…. I’m a gentleman after all. Big on consent.” He laughed and I swallowed the urge to tell him that I would puncture his balls with a switchblade if he came anywhere near me.  

“Oh, she’s going to do whatever I ask her to….aren’t you baby…” He grunted, “ Turn around so I can see you.”

He pulled out of me, his weight lifting off my body as he moved away. I couldn’t move, limbs numb and insides throbbing in pain . His palm landed on my thigh, hard and the sharp sting of it made me jump.

“I said turn around, I want to see your face when I fuck you.” Jungkook growled. I stayed limp, breathing hard and he grunted impatient, fingers sinking into my hair , yanking me to my knees and the movement made my legs scream in protest.

“How’s she so quiet? You fucked the voice out of her, kook-ah?” Yoongi asked amused and Jungkook pulled me by the hair, dragging me to the center and pushing me down till my head landed on the pillow.

“Hyung you should see her right now, all fucked out …. Like she’s never had a dick in her before.” He shook his head, “ Fucking slut. Take that off and hold yourself open for me.”

I stared at him, uncomprehending and he grabbed both my hands, placing them on my knees.

“Grab your knees and pull your legs back… So I can fuck that tight cunt the way I want to.” He said slowly, like I was a dog he was trying to train and I stared at him , defiantly.

“ Go to hell.” I whispered.

Yoongi’s laughter came from somewhere to the right.

“Your dirty talk needs work, Kook ah… Tell her she’s a precious little kitten and she makes you feel really good…. Bitches love that shit…”

Jungkook hovered over me, grabbing the back of my thighs and spreading them wide enough to make me whimper in pain.

“Is that so babygirl? You want me to tell you that? That you make daddy’s cock feel good?” He cooed, nudging the tip against me again and I had never hated anyone so much in my life. I stared up at his face, and he smiled at me, a cheeky little grin that made his bunny teeth stand out and for a second he looked so deceptively angelic and the glimmer of his piercing caught my eye.

I couldn’t help but swallow, gaze trained on the glint of metal on his tongue.

“You like that?” He grinned suddenly, sticking his tongue out for me to see, I felt my eyes widen at how sinfully good he looked .” Hyung she likes my tongue piercing.”

“Show her how it feels on her clit.” Yoongi laughed and I could barely fully process what I heard before Jungkook was crawling down my body, arms, curling on my thighs and yanking me onto his tongue .

I felt the press of his tongue on my slit, licking right into me and the jolt of pleasure was so unexpected, the pleasure so unwanted and yet so overwhelming and I couldn’t stop the way my body thrashed against the streets, lips parted as I practically mewled out in pleasure.

“Definitely a kitten…” Yoongi called out and I shuddered as Jungkook slipped two fingers into me , the ice cold press of his ring inside me making me jump. I wanted to pull away, grab his hair and yank him off but I couldn’t because it was

“Next time I’ll put the dick piercing in too, yeah? Fuck you with a bit of metal on my cock so you can feel that up there…. ” He laughed into my thighs and I screamed when he bit into the flesh there , hard.

“I’m getting bored… Either turn on facetime so I can at least jerk off to this , or I’m hanging up…” Yoongi called out .

“Hyung she clenches down on me every time she hears your voice… Just stay on for a few more minutes yeah, she tastes so fucking good, I’m gonna cum soon….” Jungkook added another finger, slipping in deep before spreading them apart inside me. I whimpered when he pushed his tongue in between the wet digits, licking into my walls and I could feel the ball of his piercing drag against my walls, ice cold and hard.

Was it fucked up that I did clench down on him again, my body apparently a slave to my base desires even as my mind screamed that he was the absolute worst bastard on the face of the planet.

“Elena, you owe me a blowjob at least for this…” Yoongi called out and I glared at the phone.

“I’ll bite your fucking dick off if you come anywhere near me.” I snapped.

“Fuck, I could get off just to that mouthy fuckhole of hers…..” Yoongi grunted.

Jungkook pulled away, climbing back up over me and lightly slapping my breasts.

“Now, how about you open that mouth and let me fuck it?”

Yoongi snorted from behind us and Jungkook glared at the phone before glaring at me again.

“Well?”

“You want to know how hard I can bite?” I said sharply, the pleasure ebbing away into nothing and resentment taking it place, the momentarily physicality of the situation fading and the reminder of who he was and who I was entering my sex addled brain.

“No.. You’re right…. But you know what, I’m not feeling it anymore. I was right.. you really aren’t qualified to be my whore. Your body…it’s frigid like a fucking popsicle…such a fucking turn off. ” He reached over and hung up on the phone.

“Now…”he whispered, leaning in closer and I yelped, when his fingers closed over my throat..” Shut your mouth and take what I give you like a grateful bitch.”

I swallowed when he pushed into me again, his pace steady as he fucked into me, eyes closed and I realized that he was almost fully dressed having just unbuttoned himself enough to get his cock out.

When he stiffened, spilling into me his eyes blew open and he locked eyes with me, wide eyed and for one horrible second he looked young and vulnerable and hurt.

I blinked as he pulled out, the sticky warm mess of his cum dripping down my inner thighs and onto the sheets.

“Well, that was much worse than I thought it would be.”  He said and I stayed on the bed as he grabbed his phone and buttoned himself back up.

He smirked at me and then reached into his pocket.

I quickly pulled myself together, ignoring the aches and pains and getting to my knees before reaching for my dress on the bed. it was kind of pointless because I still had Hoseok’s shirt on and I wasn’t going to take that off in front of Jungkook.

“Well, I’m a man of my word , Elena so…here you go..just as we discussed.” He tossed a coin on the bed and I stared at the engraved 500 on the shiny surface, feeling my rage swell inside me.

“If you still want to work out a payment plan for your sister’s bills …. Why don’t you come to my office tomorrow?” He tossed his card on the bed before  moving away to the door.

Fucking bastard.

Author’s note : My whole life is filled with regrets . 

[anninhiliation]

The Encounter

A/N: This is my submission for the iconic @cnc-oh-boi​ ‘s AU contest congratulations on the 500 queen and to many more! Sorry this took so long kdksfhskjfhdsk I also feel like I just wrote an episode of Supernatural jkhjhkjh (Zabdiel would be moose and Richard would be squirrel sdfjjshjkfs if this was a whole  ass Supernatural spinoff) 

Also; if you guys don't follow Riley TF you doing fam?

Masterlist               Spirit World Masterlist 

“Richuki mira aca” I heard a voice shout as the conservatory window creaked open and a pair of footsteps thudded onto the ground knocking a ceramic pot to the ground

“It seems we have visitors” Mr. Roswelled croaked as he balanced with his two hands on the brass of his cane and slowly lowered himself down on his red leather armchair

“It's been a long time since someone stopped by” I joked as I shut my book closed and filed it back in the bookshelf

“I got the bees-knees just checked out the noise and there’s a hoty-toty in here” Miriam gossiped strutting into the Library swaying her hips side to side 

“Is it just one person?” I questioned as we heard the conservatory’s door open and more footsteps enter

“Does that answer your question?” she cocked her eyebrow taking a drag out of her cigarette holder as a familiar sound of a chain dragging itself into the library approached

“M- miss L/N, I- I beg your pardon b- but there’s a mess of boys out exploring and y- you should check the kitchen y- you won’t believe it,” Curtis stuttered as he fidgeted with the chain around his neck

“Curtis its been seventy-one years that I’ve been telling you to call me Y/N” I stated matter of factly “what’s in the kitchen anyways?” I crossed my arms and raised my eyebrows.

“I r- reckon y- you ch- check for y- yourself miss” Curtis responded as he lowered his head eyes fixed on the rusty old metal links

“Will do Curt” I responded as I walked away

Walking down the hall I noticed it was a total of five guys, counting the one in the kitchen. A tall blonde stood in the conservatory admiring the stars. Another one with dark curly hair, a paperboy hat and a complexion that was close to Roberts walked towards the library. 

“My my well isn’t this a sheik” I heard Miriam gawk 

I found two in the parlor looking through the cabinets as Eugene and Eleanor kept an eye on them. 

“Chris mira” one giggled as he found Earls monocle and top hat

“Earls not going to like this” Eugene shook his head as he got up and walked into the music room

I continued to walk and stood in the doorway of the kitchen with pure shock as my jaw dropped. Seventy-one painstaking years of roaming the halls in between the four large walls I never thought I would see what stood before my eyes. It was him, it was the love of my life, Robert. But he was...different. His once short black hair was longer, shaved at the sides and dyed a crimson red. Tattoos covered his body, ears pierced and he had a nose ring. His clothing was all wrong too but this was Robert standing in the kitchen. I could sense that that was Robert’s soul. He opened the cabinets, then fridge like Robert used to do when he would come home from work making me smile at the old memories. 

"Yo that's wack" he muttered to himself as the rotting stench of the fridge pierced his senses 

I admired him until I noticed something in my peripheral vision making my eyes widen. I spotted Sam in the dumbwaiter, watching Robert attentively. After the incident, Earl was rarely spotted but kept Sam close making the young boy his little puppet. I walked past Robert, locking eyes with Sam as fear pulsated through me.

“Wheres Earl?” I hissed at the boy 

“Master doesn’t like me speaking to you guys” Sam stated as his gaze was locked on Robert

“You can’t tell Earl people are in the house. You understand that right?” I questioned

Sam simply nodded his head no as he tried to turn on the dumbwaiter. I grabbed his hand and forcefully pulled him out dragging him back to the library. 

“My my well isn’t this a night of surprises?” Miriam cheered as her eyes glued to the frightened boy “What’s it been? Ten years? No- must be about fifteen? Who knows.”

“It’s Robert he’s back- Earl, he’s going to try to hurt him we have to keep Earl away from him” I stammered to Miriam and Mr. Rosewelled 

“Dear, I’m afraid it’s a little late for that. The brute spotted one of the visitors-” Constance sighed as she entered the room

“I'M GOING TO KILL HIM!” I screamed shoving Sam towards Mr. Roswelled and ran around the mansion looking for Earl.

“Don’t interrupt me, dear!” Constance hissed as she followed me from close behind “it’s not the young man who looks like Robert it’s a different boy.” 

I stopped dead in my tracks and faced Constance “but Robert came in with these people so we have to protect them too”

“Oh my lord” She gasped hovering her palm over her mouth 

“What?” My eyes widened as I shot my head around the hallway 

“You’ve lost your mind. I thought I would be the first to go or Curtis since we are the oldest. But it’s you, all this Robert talk. I've seen both the real Robert and this redhead you call Robert. They both just look a lot alike...Please tell me you know that.” Constance placed her hands on my shoulders as we heard a loud thud and a man scream “Joel” making both our heads shot up the stairs 

“We have to go, Earls going to kill them” I grabbed Constance’s hand and dragged her towards the commotion up the stairs 

In the upstairs hallway, Earl had his hands around a guy’s throat, holding him up against the wall. The boy with the dark curls’ face was turning red, as he struggled to try to fight back the invisible force. His two friends looked like they were in bad shape, probably from Earl as they could only manage to lay on the ground and scream “Joel”. Anger fueled my body, as I appeared in the physical world and screamed on the top of my lungs at Earl. All eyes were on me as Constance looked at me with pure shock and the living souls screamed in terror at me. Earl looked at me filled with wrath and let the boy go vanishing through the wall, as Norma appeared for her residual haunting. 

“You’ve done it now dear” Constance sighed 

“Don’t mind her, she’s been doing the same thing for years now,” I told the three boys as I watched Normal do her routine of sprinting up the stairs holding her long dress high enough to show her ankles with a frightened expression, muttering incoherent words. She tripped halfway down the hall, turning around while still on the ground screaming as she lifted her arm as if she was trying to protect herself. Norma faded into the thin air letting me focus back on the boys

“Ay Dios mio...you're...dead…” The curly boy spoke as he did the sign of the cross

“And you’re in my house” I retorted

“Ay nena you’re not going to possess us...are you?” The skinny boy with long brown hair asked 

“I have a name you know. It's Y/N and no I don’t possess people...but you guys need to get out of here.” I warned as I inspected their injuries

“Yea...about that…” The dark curly-haired boy nervously spoke

“What?” I questioned 

“The windows and doors are locked” The skinny one with long brown hair admitted

“Great Earl’s playing cat and mouse with these poor boys” Constance interrupted as she nervously paced around us

“Well his games over” I declared 

The three boys looked at me as if I had three heads making me realize Constance had still not shown herself in the physical world. 

“Constance, you want to show yourself?” I glared at her

“Fine” she whined as she crossed over to the physical world

“How many of you are there?” The green-eyed boy questioned

“Doesn't matter” Constance snapped “follow me I know a way out”

“Wait we have two other friends downstairs”  The curly-haired one argued

The five of us rushed downstairs as the boys shouted “Richard” and “Zabdiel” finding Zabdiel in the library deep into a book and Richard in the music room playing with the instruments.  

I couldn't help but stare at Richard memorized by how much he acted and looked like Robert. He must have caught me staring because he shot me a look of confusion. 

“You look like someone I used to know” I explained to him as Constance paced around thinking of a way to get everyone out

I grabbed my shriveled up copy of A Streetcar Named Desire and flipped it to the middle where I hid a picture of Robert, Leroy, and I. Grabbing the photograph I showed Richard, pointing at Robert.

“This was Robert...my husband…this was Leroy our- my baby” I smiled remembering the day we took the picture. 

It was the first day of spring, Leroy was just four months at the time and Robert was just promoted in the factory, life was looking up for my family.  Richard stared at the photograph memorized, not even noticing his friend walk up to him. 

“Ay papa mira son iguales" Richard's friend gasped

“I got it!” Constance interrupted making all eyes land on her “just follow me, the walls have ears you know, but terrible eyesight” 

She walked up to the third floor and into what used to be her bedroom. 

“You know this house was built for me” She explained as she opened the doors to the walk-in closet “and when I died in here I couldn't help but take some secrets with me” 

Constance knelt down by a soggy old cardboard box and moved it to the side. She grabbed the corner of the moldy carpet and pulled it across the small room creating a triangle. Grabbing the edge of one of the wooden planks Constance lifted it up exposing a hidden crawl space. 

“It's a tight squeeze but it will get you out” she smiled

“Sure about that?” Echoed through the dark hole 

“Shit” I uttered as I threw the wooden planks back onto the ground “we need another way”

We ran down the hall, only to stop like a deer in the headlights as Sam stood at the edge of the stairs. Unexpectedly, Eugene appeared from across the hall and charged at Sam with full force. Both of them fell down the stairs, as Eugene grabbed Sam refusing to let him go. Eugene’s big build broke the stairs’ railing sending them both to the first floor. We heard Earl yell at Eugene making us run back into Constance’s room.

“Yo we cant leave you with that guy here” Richard argued

“That’s sweet dear, but I've been dealing with him since I was alive. Once the living is off the property I’m sure he will go back into hiding” Constance smiled as she uncovered the crawl space 

“Eleanor dear” Constance called out into the crawl space 

Slowly the little seven-year-old girl popped her head up from the crawl space. Her light blue eyes looked up at Constance as she rested her arms on the wooden floor. 

“Dear do you mind guiding the living safely out? Y/N and I are going to distract Sam and Earl as you guide them out...the closest way out is by the patio.” Constance winked 

Eleanor nodded her head as she moved away, allowing the boys to crawl in. They all looked at each other and backed away making me furrow my eyebrows. 

“What are you doing? Eugene cant distract them forever you know! It’s now or never! Go!” I hissed pushing them closer to the hole.

“Sorry shawty we can’t leave you guys here with that guy,” Richard remarked

Constance rolled her eyebrows, “Li-” she went to respond as Miriam appeared in the physical realm 

“Its always the macho men” Miriam laughed “Use ladies can take care of the big bad man” she purred as she stood in front of Erick lightly trailing her finger around his chest 

“But if you guys are scared I can guide you in the tight little space” Miriam flirted as she blew smoke into Chris 

Joel was the first move past the guys and step close to the crawl space. 

“I’ll get a priest to bless the house tomorrow if you can please bring me his things so we can get those blessed too,” Joel ordered before stepping into the crawl space.

Zabdiel was the next to step in, “I didn’t even want to come here in the first place dios mio” he muttered before disappearing into the darkness.

Erick looked at Chris who looked over at Richard. 

“We should go, como quieres pelear una fantasma?” Chris sighed as he placed his hand on Richard’s shoulder

“We gotta do something man” Richard groaned

“No offense pero nos podemos ir?” Erick asked as he tried to usher both of his friends into the crawl space 

Stomping came up the stairs and down the hall making all three quickly rush into the crawl space with the help of Miriam shoving them in. Earl busted down the closet door right after we fixed the carpet. 

“Where are they?” He fumed 

“Let me show you” Miriam purred as she slowly approached him “I cant take you to them real fast” 

He pulled out an engagement ring and flashed it in front of her. Her head slightly turned back, facing us with distraught. 

“M-my ring...Earl baby you wouldn’t” Miriam fake laughed trying to cover her fear

“Don’t test me or you’ll burn” He growled 

The two walked away, as I looked over to Constance who shared the same expression of worry as me. 

“We have to help her” I distressed as I went to leave the room

Constance grabbed my hand and stopped me. 

“There’s nothing we can do. If she does the right thing, she will accept her fate, if she makes the wrong choice we might have a new group of people with us” Constance acknowledged 

“Cant we distract Earl?” I pleaded 

“Dear, if we upset him further he’s going to send us to the flames” Constance stated matter of factly 

“Constance you’re not helping!” I snapped

“Dear, this is not your problem! Those boys should have known of the dark history of this property...yet they still choose to enter” Constance defended 

Constance was right but I didn’t want to admit, I was furious storming out of the room and acting on impulse. I marched down the stairs and into Earl’s office grabbing an old box of matches and everything flammable into the fireplace. The fire roared heating the room and illuminating the once dark and gloomy office. 

“What are you doing?” Mr. Roswelled questioned as I threw a stack of books into the fire

“Earl needs a taste of his own medicine he needs to burn” I explained as the fire burned through the pages 

“You’re only going to upset him further...his item is kept close to him” Mr. Roswelled spoke as he watched me throw anything I could get my hands on to throw it in

“Well he can ta-” I went to answer as Earl barged into the room with a crying Miriam 

“I’m sorry” she continuously choked out between the tears 

My eyes widened as Earl pulled out my heart-shaped locket and walked towards the fire. 

“You wouldn’t” I argued

“Watch me” He snapped as he held the chain over the hungry flames 

Glass shattered as a rock went through Earl and smashing a lamp. Earl looked up, confused as another rock came flying through the shattered window, taking more glass down. Earl pulled the chain away from the fire as he walked towards the window distracted by the commotion. I took the opportunity to grab my locket and bolt towards the door. I ran out the front door to be met with the same five people who entered. Erick and Chris were both distracted throwing rocks into the only room with light. 

“Richard!” I shouted as Earl trailed close behind me “you guys have to go” 

“But look who came out shawty” Richard shouted back as I heard Earl scream 

His spirit lit up the night sky, as I looked up towards the office window and saw Mr. Roswelled standing near the broken glass watching. 

“You took your item so I took his” He shouted

I looked back at Richard and jumped into his arms. 

“Thank you” I whispered and kissed his cheek 

“Richuki vamos!” Erick shouted as the four others crawled through a hole in the chainlink fence

“No problem shawty” He smiled before turning away and never looking back

[belovasangel]

Au Lait .End

Summary: Some hero’s hide between the pages of their novels, and the ones who need saving are those who read. 

Pairing: Mob!Shawn x (fem)Reader

Warnings: Blood, swearing, mention of murder, anxiety, angst to fluff, happy ending

A/N: Thank you for reading my first full series! Also this part is really long and I’m super proud of myself.

Start from the beginning

Are final chapters good or bad?

Typically, most fairytales end with an uplifting tone and moral of the story. The princess is swept off her feet and taken to their happily ever after to live with the prince who saved her. It gives a positive outlook to children, the desired audience, that life is worth living. Love is the end goal, as it heals wounds and should keep you going to fulfill your limited time on earth. Our life is something we want ever since we read about it at bedtime, hoping and praying to the universe that our prince charming may come one day. 

Yet, some end with a bitter bite instead. We feel remorse and anger towards the lack of happiness at the end. As we progress from childhood fiction to adult novels, the dialect changes to something that scars us all. Tips on how to survive a fire, to get out of a sinking car, or how to get away with murder. Our television shows shut out the crowns and love, and instead thrusts real life horrors that may happen one day. 

We are taught later, that love comes with a cost. It isn’t as simple as waking up with a kiss, or being saved from a house of seven mini men. Maybe it doesn’t come at all, and we have to learn with that being okay. Or, even worse, love is taken from us, shredded at tender touches and whispers turning in the wind. 

Shawn wasn’t ready to say goodbye. 

As he watched Andrew lock the door, still unnoticed, he began picturing a life where this wasn’t the scenario. One where you two lived on the countryside, living alongside a cat and a few children. A life which Shawn would wrap his tattoo’d and scarred hands along your baby bump, watching the little butterfly kick in response. Where your skin glowed in the beautiful light and he finally learned how to braid hair. 

But this wasn’t a silly fiction book. This was your life. And future. 

Shawn stayed low to the concrete, crawling towards the nearby alleyway to tuck away. Once he had space and safety, he stood up and began running alongside the brick walls, looking up and round for any sort of door. A staircase. Anything to get in. Shawn noticed the fire escape quickly, feeling his heart skip a beat, at the hope he suddenly found. He kept the phone tight to his face, knuckles white from tension. 

“Yeah, well, I didn’t hurt your family, and all I did was put a few holes in your men. Water under the bridge, am I right? However, I never promised that I wouldn’t touch such beautiful,” Andrew paused. Shawn heard your whimper. “Beautiful, woman. Say, does Shawn tell you about what he does?”

Shawn let out a throaty growl after hearing you whine out. He seethed red, readying to punch the taunting brick between him. “Get away from her, she has no business with me.” He put the phone quickly in his pocket, and swiftly jumped up to reach the fire escape. Somehow, being six foot was just enough to give a leg up. As fast as he jumped, Shawn put the phone back to his ear, barreling up the stairs to your store. 

“She’s making you cowardly, Mendes. You kill people! Sell drugs, murder families, take candy from fucking babies, yet somehow a damn nerd found a way to change your mind. You should have fucking killed me when you had the chance!”

Shawn shook his head, hopping window to window in search of the novels and bookshelves. “You don’t know shit about her, Andrew. All you know is her damn store, she was taught to read books, not loads rifles. She doesn’t know my life, she doesn’t know who the fuck you are! Do not get her involved. Get out before you’ll regret it.”

Once he found the window to the second floor of your store, he opened the window, thanking the universe for it being open, and quietly flung himself in. He didn’t care he left it open, or that he was unarmed. All Shawn wanted was to hold you in his arms and shield you from the pain you were facing now. 

He had never been in this part of the store, where the little nook was hidden upstairs. You were right, this was perfect for kids. The colorful beanbags and small shelves of coloring books and crayons were good enough to have any kid entranced. Shawn wondered if you’d do this for your kids, too. 

There was a small clutter downstairs, and Shawn heard it on his phone as well. He quickly padded towards the stairs, peeking over the railing. All he saw was a mass behind the counter, one of your flying hair and struggling arms, and a large body forcefully whipping you around. Shawn barreled down the stairs, trying to get Andrew’s attention. 

“Hey! Get off-”

Pop. 

Shawn stopped, nearly tripping over his feet and biting his tongue. You stood still, body craning up towards the ceiling and head tilted back in a shocking gasp. The store was silent, nobody moved. The tears long forgotten in Shawn’s eyes suddenly slipped, his heart grasping for your hold. His own daydreams flew behind his mind, the one where you two got coffee, where he would have proposed, the wedding, a kid or two. Shawn had envisioned a whole life, and he dreamt of living his days with you, like the fairytale you were. 

But right now, all you craved was a fucking shower. Looking back in shock, your senses were distraught by gun smoke and something wet. As you slowly took a few steps backwards, the body of Andrew slid eerily down you, his blood staining the outfit you were clad in. He hit the ground in a dull thud, slowly surrounding himself in the thick murder you had just committed. The gun was hot in your clammy hands, so much that you let go of the burned handle and cradled your fingers close to your chest. 

You gasped for air, and Shawn was quick to get you outside. He sprinted to your side, easily throwing you into his arms and running for the door while you whimpered and cried into his neck. Shawn’s crisp collar of his shirt quickly absorbed the blood from your fingertips, staining little drops onto the linen. They were either blood, or your own tears. At this point, you were too damned to care.

About three stops down in the subway did you finally react to his touch, weakly squeezing his hand back and turning your head to hide from the lights on the platforms you passed. Everything felt numbed, your senses, thoughts, even the memory of what happened. Yet, when things became too foreign, you looked down to the crusted blood in your fingernails and it freshly pressed your mind again.

Hopping off the line and climbing stairs to the street did you realize you’d never told Shawn where you lived. In a different scenario, you would have laughed. He really did do his research when you two first met. Shawn quickly took your keys from your purse, when did he grab that, and placed it in the lock to your quaint house. Setting the keys down at the door, you led him to the bathroom.

Shawn really wanted to enjoy this moment, hell a small part of him was, but he’d have to push that back a while longer. He had killed and ravaged more families than book series in your store, so a little blood was never an issue for him. You, however, were crafted from J.K. Rowling herself and the most dangerous thing you could do was cut butter for your cinnamon-raison toast. ‘(Y/N)’ and ‘mobster’ were never in the same sentence, or even correlated, until tonight.

And the thought of you alongside him working in with his mafia made Shawn really, really desperate to push these imagines away for another time. Right now, you were centimeters from a panic attack if the remnants of Andrew weren’t scrubbed off. 

Shawn turned on the bathroom light and closed the door behind him. You sat down on the toilet, hunched over with a heavy head in your hands. Shawn admired the cleanliness of your little apartment. It was homey and loved, clearly with many book posters and loose novels along empty spaces. The bathroom was wood and marble, a few succulents and candled scattered. He gathered you must love Pottery Barn as well. Noted. 

You sniffed gently, wiping your eyes and looked up at Shawn. “I’m sorry I ruined the date.” Shawn slowly slipped to his knees, placing both his warm hands inside yours. “You didn’t ruin anything. Gave me a near heart attack, yes. But, you are perfectly okay, right? We didn’t know he would show up.” Shawn saw your eyes flinch at the mention of previous events, so he squeezed your hands in apology. 

“Do you want me to run you a bath?” With a curt nod, Shawn stood up and worked the shower, placing some soap in with the warm water. As it filled, you stood up and began taking off your jewelry, then shoes. Looking over at Shawn, the tips of his ears were red, and his cheeks were spreading in warmth. For the first time since leaving your store, you gave a small smile. “You know, when I imagined getting naked in front of you, this wasn’t the most ideal time I’d want it to happen.”

Shawn turned around slowly, eyebrows raised and a gentle smirk on his now flushed face. “Do you want me to leave?” You shook your head, a slightly bigger smile creeping onto your face. Tears flooded your eyes, some quickly falling. “I don’t want to be alone.”

He nodded, and slowly unbuttoned his shirt, you following suit. 

Shawn Mendes learned that night the most crucial lesson a book could teach you. He was taught that not everyone is strong, that they can crumble and fall. People can be sturdy, sarcastic, and overall bright and cheerful, yet when it’s time to be vulnerable, we all need someone to pick up the pieces. Shawn Mendes began to understand what it meant to love someone, even if he knew it before. 

And you learned not to fuck around with guns.

[magpiewritingthing]

we could’ve made worse mistakes ( you might imagine we did )

Series: leigh crain has powers au

Summary: Steven has ideas about the future. Children factor into it. They do. Truly.

He just didn't think it'd be this early on in his life.

Warnings: mental health issues, suicide, implied child abuse/neglect, death, one ( 1 ) use of the C slur, ableism, menstruation mention, mention of skipped meals & weight talk in the beginning

Other notes: for the discord chat (especially charlie bc ur ocs are Canon Now to me) and also myself because i have headcanons for Leigh; might rewrite the reveal-to-Shirley scene because she does seem wildly... not into it, idk

Two months have passed since they’d first slept together, two months since and she’s not seen blood. It might not mean anything, just stress over this semester’s workload, and cranky from skipping meals from time to time (not often! maybe she should snack more, at least, because she and Steve and Shirley have a little rota system of sorts so that could work out, right?), and... it doesn/t mean she’s pregnant, necessarily. They’d been careful -- birth control, protection, the works. Maybe it’s just her body being a little wonky even though she’s not underweight (not severely enough, or at all, not really), and she doesn’t feel stressed. Better than being at home. “Home”. An aunt and uncle and cousin do not make a home.

Leigh checks the test again. Checks the box to make sure she’s reading it correctly. Beside her, Steve looks them over as well, and her stomach clenches when he hisses through his teeth; she pulls her knees up to her chest when his brow wrinkles into a frown. A small noise (fear) climbs out of her mouth when Steve stays silent.

“I’m sorry.”

“Hey.” No judgement in his voice; an arm wraps around her shoulders, pressing them both together even tighter than thigh-to-thigh on the bathroom floor of their shared apartment. “It’s not your fault. It’s not...” She hears the smack of his lips as he struggles to find something comforting to say, something that sounds natural and not just scrambling to keep Leigh as calm as possible. It doesn’t seem possible right now, or even in the future; still too young for children, still too Markey for this new life, still too tied to Victor and lightning and ghosts for a real life. “We’re both in this, together, no matter what happens. If we keep it, or if we do something about it, or if... we give it up.” Pressing a kiss against her temple, stroking her hair, he says, “I don’t think I’d want to give it up if... if we don’t do something about it.”

It, it, it. So sure “it” is not a “them”. Funny how one’s genetics can mess with stuff like that. Twins, nature control, ghosts. She’s surprised there isn’t a spot of necromancy in there, either.

She has to squash it all down and pray her children (more than one, she can feel it like the night when Victor left, the traitorous shitstain) will not be infected.

Leigh doesn’t dare ask Steve. She knows what he’s told her.

It’s been a month since the test proved positive. They haven’t made any more to do something about it (them); they’ve talked about it (them), and safety nets.

“So.”

“... Yeah.”

“We’re keeping it?” He sounds excited about it. Barely, but the undercurrent is there in his voice, the shine in his eyes, the hopeful clasp of his hands around hers. The way his eyes keep flickering to her barely-there bump. He fucking should be, too -- she is.

“Yeah.” She laughs, exhaling long-held breath. “Yeah.”

Shirley is less than impressed when Leigh breaks the news over a later dinner. It starts off as a joke, “Oh I’m eating for two,” when Leigh really means three as she scarfs down a bigger helping of food. Shirley, looking between her now wide-eyed brother, looking as though he’d been caught out and wasn’t really trying to keep it a secret, and Leigh, looking like the cat with the canary and the cream.

“What the fuck?”

Leigh’s cheeky mood dips, sours. “Don’t be like that.”

“No, are you seriously--?”

Steve tries to placate his sister, reaching for her hand. “Shirl--”

“No!” Shirl whips away, hands to herself. It’s a miracle she doesn’t leave the table, calling them both careless idiots. “What’re you thinking? You can’t be having kids now!”

“Shirl.” He tries again, standing his ground; he knows where Shirl’s coming from, he does, because he’d react the same if she was in the same position. “Me and Leigh have talked about it, and we’ve decided to keep it.”

“Have you?” The question's a sharp wheeze. “Have you considered--”

“Yes, Shirl! We’ve talked about how we’re gonna be able to support our kid, with or without our family’s help.”

Leigh’s thankful there’s no mention of her own family, although she’s not sure if Shirl’s caught on yet. She hopes not.

“Oh Jesus, Stevie--” She's pressing the ball of her palms into her eyes, like the picture in front of her might change and this conversation will cease to be real, as though a the thing (the baby-to-be) in Leigh’s belly will simply disappear. “You’re actually serious about this?”

“Yes.” Joint answer. Shirley just shakes her head, but says no more about it.

When summer break rolls around, Leigh’s stomach is rounder (four months into it now) and she’s debating on whether to beg to go with Steve and Shirl (might as well meet her kids’ other aunts and uncle and great-aunt, right?), or whether to suffer under the eyes of her uncle and cousin and the fretting hands of her aunt. At least Cathleen means well. It’s not enough.

The night before leaving, before her ultimate decision, Victor slips into her dreams again. She’s tried so hard to keep him out while wishing he’d stayed and it’s only worked to make them both upset.

“This wouldn't have happened if you hadn’t killed yourself,” she says, more sulky than all the other times she’s told him this same thing. Her beloved brother, her idol, her hero, her sun-in-the-sky, her do-no-wrong posterboy, her motherfucking protector from all things wrong and evil in this world -- made her watch as he killed himself with that triangle of lightning.

Don’t look away, Leigh. Don’t look away. Don’t look away. Eyes on me. Eyes on me. Eyes on me, Leigh.

“I know,” he says, ever-regretful as all the times before. As much as she wants to hurt him (but God, no, not really, no no no), she knows how sorry he is, how much he regrets it. How he regretted it at the time, at the terrifying need to make something stop but having no other option he could see--

He lays beside her in the dewy nighttime grass as the eternal nighttime sky of their shared world rolls overhead, stars speeding past their eyes; the trees circle them widely, like nature’s earthly crown. Victor rolls over to his side, grasping her forearm in his hand. “You can’t go back there. You know that; if you want these kids to see the world, you won't go back to those assholes.” She shouldn’t be surprised that he knows about them since he’s never wholly left since that night, but it still makes her skin crawl. (Why didn’t he do something about it, as she knew he did with so many other things? With the playground bullies? With the teachers? Did he fear her falling into the foster system? What’s to fear now?)

Leigh's throat clogs; everything is thick with tears. “I know.”

“It’ll kill them. It’ll kill you.”

She’s not sure whether if it’ll merely hurt her, or if she’ll join him here. She doesn’t ask for clarification.

Steven, the oldest brother, the most responsible of the Crain siblings, returns home with Shirley and his pregnant girlfriend. His girlfriend of a year and a half, who came home for a couple of weekends over that time, who chimed in on calls home, who is known by name and middle name and surname and age and hobbies and prospective career. Theo doesn’t shake her hand, instead going in for a hug (and if Theo were to be asked, and if she were to answer honestly, she’d confess that she felt that beat of preternatural in Leigh's blood), and Leigh is relieved that she’s got at least three out of six on her side. The twins hug her, too, before they pay attention to their own siblings. Janet is much the same. A home run; six outta six. Not bad, kiddo, not bad.

Later, during a quiet game after dinner, Leigh offers to clean up with Janet, insisting on it despite everyone saying she should rest. C’mon, she's only four months along, give over.

“Have you told your parents you're not going home?” Janet asks. It’s an innocent presumption, but the weight of everything -- of her brother’s death, of her father’s death, of her mother’s unravelled mind, of her remaining family’s pewter-cold regard -- is suddenly crushing her shoulders. She takes a chair out from under the table and slumps down, leaning against the back of it. Her hands are clammy.

“Sweetheart?” Janet's hand curls around her shoulder, and this tenderness, this genuine care that’s freely given to her, shatters that last wall of preservation: she weeps. Collected into Janet’s arms, she weeps harder, howling into her shoulder, snot dribbling freely as she cries aloud how her father is dead and her mother let herself lose her mind because why stay sane for her only daughter and only surviving family? And it was all Victor’s fault that she was stuck with her stupid frail aunt and boar of an uncle and cunting bitch of a cousin and she hated them all and that's why she’s here instead because the babies would die and she would die and it’d be the end of her because all the love she’d had had been swept away when she was only eight years old.

Janet tells her she can stay. She’s home.

The twins, Diane and Michael, are born on a Monday. Twenty-third of October. Janet has promised to look after them along with Theo, Luke, and Nellie. It’s almost too good to be true, but it’s perhaps the one thing that’s worked out for Leigh and Steven so far.

When winter break swings around, Steven proposes to Leigh, down on one knee in their shitty green-carpeted living space, short fibres rough on his knee and shin. They’re both still sleepy from the late night and late rising, and they’ve only talked about this since August, but of course Leigh says yes.

It’s all too good to be a fairy tale.

Two years later, they’re on their honeymoon, and Leigh is positively pregnant again. Nine months later, Robin and Eleanor, “Nora”, are born, and it’s still too good.

Fifteen years later, Nellie’s dead. Steven sees her in his hotel room.

At home, his children see her too.

[jetsnacks]

Cat in the night

WOAH LOOK! It's my first yuri on ice fic!! I wrote this a while ago and I figured I'll post it while I'm here :/ this is one of my weird aus that I have way too much fun with, specifically it's a crime au with art thief!yuri and accidental bodyguard!otabek. The first chapter is just yuri to set the stage a bit (although don't you worry, victor and yuuri have their own plot line planned ooooh shoot) (note! Yuri is probably a little older than cannon, because I don't see him being hired as a high level thief at 15. We probs get some flashbacks later, but atm he's somewhere between 19-23) Don't ask me why it got so mcfreaking long I don't know what happens when my fingers do the typey type. WARNINGS: I'm serious about these ones folks please check before reading Dismemberment, minor (unnamed) character death, swearing, neglectful parenting mention Chapter one: "Our top story tonight, folks, is about the painting "still life nom. 7", which was recently stolen from the new Caeveri exhibit after being unearthed in a collection after the owners death only two months ago. The police say they have reason to suspect political motives, considering the large amount of protest this collection had garnered. Some say that the original collected had no right to the paintings, while other say that the theft was an act of terrorism against art itself. The people who support this thief have taken to the media, painting them as an almost Robin Hood like figure, calling them the 'Cat thief', a nickname earned by the fact that the only other item missing from the museum was inexplicably, a plush tiger from the gift shop. More on this story as it develops, but one thing can be said, this thief clearly knew what they were doing." Yuri Plisetsky had fucked up. It wasn't the first time this had happened, nor would it be the last. That thought didn't stop his hands from shaking as he flipped off the tv, rolling over to lie on his side in the small hotel room bed. It hadn't been that bad of a heist, to start with. The security was laughably unprepared. He climbed in through a skylight with ease, letting his legs dangle over the edge as he triple checked the cameras blind spots. One focused on the entry, one on the main desk, and one each on the entries to the exhibits. Fortunately, there was more that one way to get what he wanted. Yuri held on to the ledge with all his might, pushing up with his knees until the ceiling panel next to the sky light shifted, revealing a crawl space, just big enough for him and his gear, as long as he had packed light. Since he wasn't an idiot, he was more than prepared for that. He made his way carefully though the crawlspace towards the exhibit hall he wanted, putting his weight on the beams, rather than the flimsy tiles as much as possible. Every few feet he retied a safety wire that ran from the harness on his chest to the closest beam. It was slow going, but better than breaking his head on the marble floor should he shift his weight wrong and fall through the ceiling. At the very least, this way he had a chance to escape if he blew it. Yuri gritted his teeth at the thought. /Good thing I don't make mistakes/ he thought fiercely to himself, stopping at the 63rd tile, just as he planned, and checked his watch. He had 45 seconds till the next gap in the guard routine. If he didn't make it, he'd be waiting for another 2 minutes until the rotation went around again. That is, if the guards didn't change the route on him. Thankfully, the past three months of footage from this museum showed nothing but constancy. Yuri took a deep breath, tightening the knot on the still metal beam, praying it could take his relatively inconsequential weight. If it didn't... well. Yuri didn't want to think about it. He gritted his teeth. 20 seconds left till drop. All he had to do was lower himself down, unlock the case, unscrew the frame, stick the canvas in the poster case over his shoulder, and then confirm that fake was stored beneath the first canvas. The second canvas trick had been set up by a contact, which made him nervous. Yuri didn't like relying on other people to do their part during jobs. It was easier to work solo, knowing that the only person that could fuck it up was him. He felt the familiar, calm, almost numb feeling he always felt before a job wash over him as his watch ticked down, 8, 7, 6. Yuri closed his eyes, fingers at the edge of the ceiling tile, ready to pull. 4, 3, 2... 1. Yuri grabbed panel and tugged, swinging his legs through much like he had done earlier at the sky light. This time, however, he had to go down. The heart lurching sight of the ground far below gave him a rush of adrenaline as he painstakingly lowered himself to the ground via a pulley system of strong black climbing rope. He tried to listen over his pounding heart for the footsteps of the guards as he rushed over to kneel at a case up against a wall, covering a painting mounted there. It was almost second nature unlocking it, like his body knew what to do without thinking. The frame was always trickier. Yuri pulled a small silver screw driver out of his kit and undid the two bottom screws, carefully letting the first canvas fall to the bottom to reveal... nothing. Well, almost nothing. Rage and terror built in Yuri Plisetskys throat as he examined the small photo that had been taped there. It looked like a gloved hand holding something up by the hair. Was it... a head? Yuri swallowed hard, begging himself not to vomit. Heads where supposed to have bodies attached to them. At the bottom of the picture, the other gloved hand held what looked like a typed note. 'Try again.' Yuri didn't have much time before the next guard. He deftly rolled up the canvas, slipping it into the case. /Just... stick with as much of the plan as possible./ he thought to himself, doing his best to slow his breathing. He ripped the photo off the wall and stuck it in with is kit, trying not to look at it. He rescrewed the frame into place, and locked the case. In a near panic, he ascended the ropes, making far too much noise for his liking. He recognized the... head... in the picture as the man who had been assigned to place the fake. Whoever had killed him might still be waiting for Yuri to show. He could only hope he was meant to carry the vivid message to his higher ups, preferably alive. He crawled as fast as he could without dislodging ceiling tiles, tying his rope less frequently than he should. He would rather risk falling than moving to slow and being predictable. Whoever did this clearly knew the plan, but how much? At that thought, he took a different path, heading to the front doors. It was a big risk, but it would be too easy to have someone waiting at the skylight he used to enter. He did his best to count tiles until he was at the front desk, but ended up lowering himself into the gift shop, falling a few feet pretty un gracefully into a pile of something soft. /a... stuffed animal?/ Yuri shook his head, dashing for the door, gathering his rope in one hand as he went. It was only five blocks later that he realized he still clutched one of the small stuffed tigers that he'd fallen into. Now he lay in the hotel room, clutching it to his chest like a child with a favorite blanket, trying to keep tears out of his eyes. All he had been told was to steal the fucking thing. And he did. But in his rush to get out not empty handed, he'd forgotten to think that it might have been what they wanted. Someone clearly knew this would have some political affect. He didn't care about that. All he wanted to do was make enough cash for his grandfather to stay safe. His parents owed some people big time, but skipped town, dropping off the map. He had managed to convince the people they owed that he was a good enough investment. As long as he sent back enough money every month, his only family that mattered would be safe. He couldn't stay here, weeping like a child. He wiped his eyes, packing up the few things he had. Not much more that what he'd need for the job, backup supplies, and a change of clothes. He stared at the half empty bag, plush tiger in one hand. He was good as dead at this point. They'd link him to it eventually, what did it matter? Besides, he liked tigers. Yuri sighed, and packed the thing in his bag, leaving no trace of himself in the hotel room to the naked eye. Soon Yakov, his employer would be at the door, demanding to know what happened. If he could, he'd rather have that conversation on his terms, those being out of range of any direct harm, preferably over a throw away phone from a different city. The farther the better. Before he left, he rinsed out one of the tiny shampoo bottles, and folded up the picture, tucking it inside and setting the bottle upside down on the counter, but not before scribbling a note on the back 'what the FUCK'. Hopefully Yakov would notice the code before the maids did. To buy him more time, Yuri didn't check out. It didn't exactly look like he was carrying all his luggage, and the room wasn't under his name anyways. No one stopped him. His sneakers feet started hitting the pavement, lit only by the street lights. His pace started to grow, feet hitting faster and faster, heart racing like it did whenever he was starting again. He had done it a lot. He didn't know where he was going, but every cell in him screamed /As far as I can/

[goodlucktai]

The night will go on, my little windmill

fandom: TMNT IDW/2012

pairing: Woodyangelo (you can pry this ship from my cold dead fingers tbh)

@tmntflashfic‘s january challenge is “old friends, new futures,” so i wrote a new installment of my Closer AU because why not

google search “how many blink 182 lyrics can i incorporate into my fics before i get shot”

x

You aren't there when Mike shows his brothers the college acceptance letter. His bright, surprised delight left an impression in your house, a happy shadow that you wish you could bottle and keep, and similarly it seemed to lend him courage enough to face his family on his own.

You pace the whole house five times that night waiting for a phone call, nerves curdling sickly in the pit of your stomach—because you know Mike in the same way a compass knows true north, you know when something's wrong—and two hours after Mike left after dinner, he shows back up at your front door.

His eyes are red, sticky tear-tracks obvious even in the porch light. You shove open the screen door and wrap your arms around him. You trapped his hands between the two of you, so he can't hug you back—but he curls into your chest with a soft, sad intake of air, and presses his face into the warm hollow of your neck and shoulder, and curls shaking fingers into the front of your shirt.

You hold him for what feels like a long time.

“They don't want me to go,” he tells you miserably over a mug of hot cocoa. You meet your grandma's eyes over the top of his head. Her lips are pressed into a firm line, the dark blue of her eyes sympathetic and angry. “It's so far away.”

“Donnie went,” you point out, bristling with the unfairness of it all. “They didn't stop him.”

“Donnie ran away.” Mike's fingers curl around the packed warmth of his drink, eyes fixed on the wafting steam. “They didn't have a chance to stop him.”

And that, you think, with the slow burn of sudden inspiration, is a great idea.

“If you need anything,” grandpa says firmly, helping you pack the bed of your truck in the dark of one o'clock in the morning, “anything, you just give us a call.” 

Your sleepy cousins are in their pajamas on the porch, hugging Mike because he was always like a second big brother to them, and he's kissing their soft foreheads around an affectionate smile. Grandma is inside, throwing together a cooler full of food for your long trip, and you slam the stubborn tailgate shut with so much love ballooned up inside of you that nothing feels impossible.

Grandma embraces you both at the same time in both arms, right there on the sidewalk, grandpa's coat thrown on over her nightgown. Grandpa pushes an envelope into your hands—its thick with cash, and he refuses to take it back. Your cousins tug you down for another round of hugs and kisses, and you squeeze them tight, missing them already.

Mike leans out the passenger side window of the truck, waving and waving at your family until you turn the corner and throw them out of sight.

Mike's house is dark, and the car is gone. You wonder if his brothers are out looking for him, and wonder why they didn't check at your house first. Mike unclips his seatbelt, pops open the door, and promises to be quick.

You leave the engine running, and watch the glowing clock on the dash.

It takes your best friend fourteen minutes to return, tossing a single duffle bag into the bed of the truck and climbing back into the warm cab with a cat carrier in his arms.

“They weren't home,” he says breathlessly, and his eyes are bright now—this one last hurdle leaped, he's finally beginning to believe that you're really doing this. Klunk is purring in a way that matches the grin on Mike's face, and you grin right back.

You stop at an ATM and drain Mike's savings into your checking account, just in case his brothers get any funny ideas. You both have a full ride through school, thanks to a plethora of scholarships and grants and one or two student loans, but it's something like twenty-six hours between Arizona and New York, and who knows what might happen.

You stop at a gas station to fill up the tank and send Mike in for convenience store food. Laugh when he comes back out with an arm full of energy drinks and microwave burritos, and catch the King Size Twix he tosses you over the roof of the truck.

You stop one more time, right on the edge of town, at the You Are Now Leaving... sign. The road ahead is dark, an endless stretch of country highway. Neither one of you looks back.

“Ready for this?” you ask him.

In response, Mike turns the radio on. Your phone is still plugged into the AUX, and within moments All The Small Things fills every inch of space in the cab that isn't already taken up by boy or cat or junk food.

Half of your best memories could fit right here, layered one on top of the other like photocopies, you in the driver's seat and Mike in the seat beside you, speeding in circles down the same road because there was no where else to go—fifteen, seventeen, nineteen years old—beating the same Blink-182 song to death over and over and over again.

Your smile is so wide your cheeks are aching. You shift back into drive and gun it forward, down a new road this time. Mike whoops once, then laughs, and then starts singing along mid-chorus, his voice the most familiar thing to you in the whole world.

You get lost almost immediately, because neither of you thought to buy a map, but Mikey's eyes are wide every time you pull into an unfamiliar city and you'd drive through every state in the country to keep that excited brilliance in his face.

The fall semester doesn't start for nearly a month—you have time to make a few detours. So you follow the road signs into Pheonix, and get there as morning dawns across the desert. You eat breakfast at a waffle house, spend the day lost in a giant mall, smuggle Klunk in Mike's hoodie everywhere you go.

After that, you stop in Albuquerque, and then Santa Fe. You drive with the windows down, unplug your phone and tune into different radio stations as you go. You turn off the road late for the night in Las Vegas, New Mexico, because Mike laughs when he sees the sign.

You make Mike hold his bag until you check the questionable motel room for bedbugs, but after that he's creeped out and refuses to sleep alone. He and Klunk crawl in with you without waiting for an invitation, and you roll your eyes and lean over him to turn the light off.

The linen sheets are more scratchy than soft, over-starched and bleached too many times, and the seafoam green of the walls glows almost neon when headlights pass through the thin curtains. You can't count how many nights you've slept like this in your life, with Mike pressed against your chest, breathing softly, mouth slack against your shirt, but he's never kept you up before.

He's warm, his brown skin dusky against the pale pillows in the dark, and you can't see his freckles even from this close but you could probably still count them if you tried.

In the morning, you wake up with Klunk nestled under your chin, and Mike shutting the door behind him with an apologetic grin.

“I meant to be back before you woke up,” he says, tossing the truck keys back on the lopsided nightstand. He's in his own skinny jeans and your over-large hoodie, curly hair a messy halo around his head. He holds up a plastic bag, amber eyes bright. “I picked up breakfast!”

You open a styrofoam container of scrambled eggs and French toast, a strip of bacon and two strawberries on top shaped like a smiley face, and you wonder what on earth you did to deserve him.

You pull back out onto I-25 North and follow it up toward Colorado. The music is down low this morning, and Mike has the atlas folded open on his knees, tracing the trip so far with a pink highlighter.

His phone is in the glove compartment. He turned it off after the seventh missed call, something tight and unhappy on his face, and there's still a pale shadow lingering there hours later.

You merge left sharply, just barely making the exit, and Mike squawks in surprise.

“Woah, where are we going?”

“You'll see,” you say, and turn off the interstate completely. Mike shifts Klunk out of the way and scoots the map closer to your side of the bench, just in case.

The Garden of the Gods ends up being a day-long stop. You wander some of the trails, and take an obscene amount of pictures, and make shapes out of the rock formations. Mike is flushed by the time closing hours are near, his face stretched into what might as well be a permanent smile, and you tap the arm of one of the two young women standing nearby.

“Do you mind taking our picture?” you ask her, holding out your phone.

She looks past you at Mike and then she smiles, the light of her own adventure bright in her eyes, and takes your phone. You turn to grab Mike's hand, and drag him up to the immense hoodoos, two towering, spire-like rocks that stand together and form a small open window where their edges don't quit meet.

“Tourists take pictures in it all the time,” you tell him, helping him climb up. “It's pretty much required while you're here.”

“Oh,” Mike says, voice soft. You sit opposite each other, knees bunched together, and then turn to smile for the camera. Mike never let go of your hand, and he's still holding it now. You can feel his heart beating through the press of his fingers, a little too fast.

You glance at him, sidelong, to make sure he's okay, and startle a little at how close he is. His face is radiant in the half-light, in the shadowed keyhole of the impossibly huge rocks you're sheltering in, and the fingers of his free hand find a home on your cheek.

Your breath catches.

There’s an eternity here, right here, in the careful way he touches you. You cover his hand with your own, and lean through the two inches of space left dividing you, hair flattening where your foreheads come together.

“You did all this for me 'cause you thought I was sad?” he asks, very quietly.

“Nah, Mikester. 'Cause I want you to be happy,” you say, no louder than him.

The woman hands your phone back, and she's covering a delighted smile with her fingers.

“You two look good together,” is all she says, and you grin, a little bit flustered, a whole lot pleased.

Mike wants to go shopping in the Visitor Center before you get back on the road, and the two of you compete to find the cheesiest, tackiest souvenirs. You end up buying the winner, a stuffed bighorn sheep in a little T-shirt that says, “Someone in Colorado loves you!” and Mike buys twelve dollars worth of 'famous fudge' because you both make bad choices.

You check into a motel and take Klunk inside, and have dinner at an Italian place downtown. The stuffed sheep comes with you, and the waiter laughs when he sees it presiding over the table. The dessert menu is long and impressive, and Mike is torn between semifreddo and panna cotta, so he gets one and you get the other and you sneak bites off each other's plates.

A hearty meal after a day of hiking after several days of driving has you flagging by the time you make it back to your motel room. You're ready for bed in about two minutes, and yawn a goodnight as Mike turns the lamp off.

Mike's voice wakes you up sometime later, in the dark timeless place between midnight and morning. You blink blearily, and lift your head, and find him sitting on the other bed with his phone to his ear, stroking Klunk's fur calmly.

“Do you want me to apologize?” he's saying quietly. “I worked so hard for this, and you were going to take it away from me. What am I supposed to apologize for?”

You're frozen, hardly daring to breathe. The silence is impossibly heavy, and you wish you could hear both sides of the conversation your friend is having. You wish you could see his face, see what new damage this is doing him.

“I'm nineteen, Leo,” is the next thing he says. “You can't stop me from going.” Another pause, and finally Mike's shoulders are hunching as he begins to bow under the weight of the argument, and you can only imagine what he's listening to. His voice is thick and hurt when he snaps, “Donnie was right to leave, and so was I!”

His face is briefly illuminated by the screen as he takes it away from his ear to jab the End Call button. He's not crying, but his eyes are bright and wet, and he rubs them with the sleeve of the hoodie he never gave back to you.

“Woody?” he says softly. “Are you awake?”

“Yeah, Mikester. Let's go get some ice cream.”

There's a 24-hour diner down the street. You walk there, close enough that your arms bump, close enough for Mike to slip his hand into yours while you're waiting for a light to change.

You thread your fingers through his and hold on tight. It would take a tornado to force you apart.

Close to Boulder, your truck starts making a pretty ugly grinding sound every time you turn. Mike bullies you into getting it checked out, and the weathered mechanic at the auto shop tells you that your steering column is all but shot.

“Been doing a lot of driving in that old girl recently?” he asks, and you nod, a little shame-faced. “We'll get her taken care of. You're gonna have to stay put for a little while, though.”

You call to let your grandparents know, and end up giving them the number of the auto shop. The mechanic is amused when he sees you the next day, and lets you know that the parts and labor have been paid for. The truck will be ready for the road in about four days, and until then you're stuck in Colorado.

“We're not in a hurry,” Mike reminds you, grinning a little. “Let's go find a place to stay.”

There's a roomshare on Craigstlist advertised for as cheap as twenty bucks a night, and you jump on it.

“After this, we're sleeping in the truck,” you tell Mike sternly, not really meaning it. It's not like you're strapped for cash. But he rolls his eyes and nods along anyway, tugging you towards the bus stop.

Mike's roommate is a pretty cool guy, ex-Marine by the looks of it, and happy to have Klunk sharing their space. He helps Mike set up a fold-away cot, laughing at the anecdotes of their roadtrip so far as Mike shares them, and you stay to make sure he'll be okay before heading into the other room for the night.

“Slash works thirds, so you probably won't see him tonight,” Leatherhead says, Klunk purring warmly in the crook of his arm. “If you need anything, don't be afraid to ask.”

The bed shifting wakes you up. Cool air wafts under the blanket as Mike climbs in next to you, and the mattress settles with his weight. The stupid sheep is under his arm, and his eyes are sleepless.

You push yourself up on one elbow and look down at him. There's a curl of dark hair flopped over one of his eyes, and you push it out of the way with your fingers. 

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Mike says, gazing at you. His voice is as reverent as it was in the Garden of the Gods, careful and quiet. “Woody?”

“Mikester?”

“I want you to be happy, too,” he says.

Kissing Mike in a stranger's bed at three a.m. skyrockets to the top of your list of favorite things.

He smiles against your mouth the whole time, and you thank god you broke down in Boulder.