#t$$ military au

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Post-Rescue Interrogation

"Ander Sahota" doesn't exist in the army's database. Due to this, base officials suspect he's a spy who was planted within the compound, despite his condition suggesting otherwise.

Military AU Summary // T$$ AU Masterlist

[narianders-gt-hell]

Yuor favorite 90s anime. Starring the world’s scruffiest dad and mr. how I look with he/him pronouns in my bio.

[demigodseameg16]

Watch me design a whole ass trio for La Terreur au. Starring The Second Coming of Christ but if they came back a bit half baked, Horus but he was a repressed gay, with anger issues, and a smoking problem, featuring the Axolotl God from Gravity Falls that Bill Cipher despises.

EDIT: AGAIN SORRY I THOUGHT I PUT THE DISCLAIMER THIS WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO BE A TAGGED POST. And by tagged I mean I didn't mean to tag the creator. It should have been tagged properly with the proper tags in the tag section. I thought I fixed it in the reblog but I'm making sure I fixed it now. Hopefully this edit stays. Sorry for bothering the people behind this au with the unnecessary @, that was not my intention.

[kpujing]

• LOVE gone COLD | BTS JHOPE AU •

AU onde Hoseok finalmente retornou do serviço militar para alegria de todos... Menos de sua (ex)namorada, que aparentemente está decidida a evitá-lo.

Portuguese version | English version

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x Original Character ((é a Naná aqui ok? Ok!))

Side Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Original Characters ((self insert, EU AMO MEU MARIDO TÁ BOM????))

Genre: Fluff, Comédia, Angst [era pra ser só um tantinho mas de repente eu fiquei completamente depressiva??? um tantinho de nada de angst ((E EU DETESTO TRISTEZA))], EU JURO QUE O FINAL É FELIZ!!!

A/N: AU de aniversário ((MUITO atrasado)) pra @naah-eps

FELIZ ANIVERSÁRIOOOO!! 🎉🎊🎉 [por favor não me mate pq começa triste do nada].

MASTERLIST | Anterior | Capítulo 3 | Próximo

ATO 1: The beginning of the... Hiatus??

MASTERLIST | Anterior | Capítulo 3 | Próximo

[energ00n]

APPRENTICE AU MASTERPOST [read before you send in an ask]

[If your ask is mentioned in the Popular Questions section I will ignore it so please do me a favour]

If you're interested in the AU, let this be your guide. I suck at writing but I'll do my very best. Just a warning this is LONG and I'll probably update it as I go.

Read the AU from the beginning >> ✧

I. What is Apprentice AU?

Setting

Some basic knowledges

Apprentice AU takes place in a timeline where all the original Thirteen Primes are ALIVE. They're the rightful rulers of Cybertron and each takes charge of an aspect in their society (religion, military, economy, etc...) keeping everything running.

To be efficient with this, they take bots themselves deem exceptional under their wings and train those into worthy leaders for Cybertron. And potentially, a new Prime.

Fun fact: Only one bot has achieved Primacy through apprenticeship and it's Sentinel Prime.

2. Story

The AU mostly revolve around Orion Pax and D-16, specifically their growing relationship while being Apprentices of Prima Prime and Megatronous Prime, respectively. Orion is one curious cogless mech who loves to run around wanting to find answers to cybertron’s energon problem while D-16 only wants to keep up the hard work and potentially become commander of the High Guard one day

Some art and comic I've made of them:

First meeting - First greeting

Chatter - Pastime - Watchful eyes

Orion's upgrade (< context)

Lord High Protector

Fanwork

Fandub

Fanfic

An Apprentice’s (Unofficial) Guide to House Garments

To see only art, use the tag #apprentice_au

Ask tag for filter is #ask_ene

II. What entails being an Apprentice?

Role

A bot can only have 1 Prime as their mentor, thus wholeheartedly devote to that Prime's purpose. During the apprenticeship, the bot will learn all their Prime offers and graduate once they are ready to contribute to Cybertron.

Example:

Prima is in charge of the Religious aspect -> Orion learns of ritual and duties that help with the church

Megatronous is in charge of Cybertron's military -> D-16 is trained to be a warrior/soldier

2. Garment

Once becoming a Prime's apprentice, you are obligated to adorn their House's garment. Mostly consist of one primary colour of the Prime and an accent colour + accessories.

^^^ All designs shown thus far ^^^

*Regarding Nexus: Nexus' garment consist on a golden visor with a star on the right eye. The Visor can come in any frame!! Not just the one showed above

All the garments are considered extreme honour, a blessing that reminds the apprentices of their devotion to their Prime mentors

There's a little made up rule between the Apprentices that only your special somebot can touch your garment, consider how important it is. Like a forbidden peck on the lips if you will.

╔══ •- Popular Questions -• ══╗

"Where is Bee in the AU? Whose apprentice is he?"

He WILL APPREAR. Eventually.

STOP ASKING.

2. "Why are Orion and D-16 cogless?"

For some time now bots do not come online with transformation cogs due to the planet no longer being as potent. If not harvested as sparks, the bots will develop a frame and sprout from the ground only as cogless.

In this universe, all cogless will need to obtain a cold cog and have it be activated by a cogged bot. This activation can also be called “Imprinting”, the cogless will receive various unpredictable side effects if they use the T-cog, these effects can range from mental to physical (ex. Feeling passing sadness of the activator, frame looking similar to the activator, etc….). The Activator can even write a singular command code into the cog, effectively bound any bot that uses it so it’s highly recommended that the cogless bots only get a cogged bot they trust to imprint on their cogs.

For cogless apprentices, it is tradition that their Primes will be the ones imprinting on their cogs once they’re deemed ready.

3. "How are the Apprentices chosen?"

Vibes

4. "Are the High Guard still there?"

Yes. They're intact and is mainly under Megatronous Prime's command. Starscream, Shockwave and Soundwave are D-16's personal trainers since Megatronous has expressed his hope that D will lead the High Guard someday.

Starscream isn't happy so he's a particular harsh trainer to D but he'll be a good guardian figure when D needs him to be. D has a nice friendship with Soundwave

5. "How is X in this AU?"

Look up the name in my blog, at this point I’ve probably answered whoever you’re thinking about before. (Bee, Ratchet, Drift, Arcee, KO, Smokescreen, Hot Rod, etc…)

I’m still quite new to Transformers so I would be very appreciative if you'd give me a pic, tell me a short description of the character and maybe suggestion on what trope they might play (anatagonist, mentor, etc...). Information is always welcome especially if the character is more obscured

Please don't ask me about other Primes aside from Prima, Megatronous, Sentinel and Zeta only when it's Sentinel related. Most of it I consider as spoilers. Once again tho, info and suggestions about them would be nice.

Alpha Trion would be fine too but there's nothing much to say about him.

6. "I don't have a question just want to say I like your art <3" "Remember to take care of yourself/take rest!"

Much as I appreciate the notion, I get these wayyyy too often and it's clogging up the inbox. I'd prefer it if you guys keep it in the comment and only send them in as asks if it gets too long

Also very weirdly but being reminded to take care of myself is kinda irksome to me, I rather not keep hearing it.

7. "Can we draw fanart/write fanfic/make our own OCs for the AU?"

Yeah! I’m glad my stupid AU can inspire you. Tho I do have a few boundaries:

Dpax/Megop and Prima/Megatronous are SOLID. Please don't ship them with anyone else. Strict one-sided from others is fine tho! (ex: Bee has a one-sided crush on Orion) Tho JazzOp is an exception

Bottom Orion and top D-16 only

Orion is Prima's only Apprentice

8. A few reasons why I might not have answered your ask:

- Someone already asked it and I’ve answered it before. Keyword search may help you look it up

- It’s spoilers

- It’s not a question or anything I can comment on

- I forgor. It’s not likely but it happens

Thank you all for reading!

[niccolites]

a gouge in the wood - unfinished 1.7K words came back wrong au, simon 'ghost' riley x reader cw. violence

The thing wearing your ex-husband’s face stands in your living room and watches you.

You map out where he’s standing, the muck on his boots, flaking off and sticking to your wooden floors. There’s a mad moment where you think it may not be him - might not be Simon. Some other threat, that is raising the hair on the back of your neck. Some faceless military grunt, here to string you up, just like Simon had always feared they would.

You know him though, even when you cannot see his face. Something beyond knowing just the curve of his shoulders, like how he holds his right just an inch further back than his left. Where your amygdala takes over at the sight of him, like you know what he is before you think of his name.

You also know that it cannot be him, when you identified him on that cold autopsy table just a few hours ago.

You hover in the open doorway, eyes on him as if that will stop him from moving, and consider your options. You could run out the door, screaming, but you know his bulk belies his speed. You may make it back onto the step behind you before he caught you, but you wouldn’t get further than that.

You flex your keys in your hand before you step inside and let the door swing shut behind you. His eyes track your movement, dead on, centre. You wonder if you should stop thinking about it as a ‘he’ but rather something else. Something unknown, something that’s alive and grown and decided to invade your home.

“If you’re trying to intimidate me, can you knock it off,” you say, voice slightly tilted as if you want to make it a question. It doesn’t move. “What do you want?”

Now, that generates a response. Tiny, but a slight shift of his head. You’re too far away, but you like to imagine you can see his pupils flex. So, it does want.

Something about that, desire in something that you do not understand, has your body choosing flight. You flinch back, hare brain kicking you towards the door, and it’s on you.

You’re knocked back, skull rattling back against the door, its forearm braced against your chest and the other around your jaw. Thumb pressed into bone, catching sound there and stealing it.

You blink up at him, restrained. It’s Simon, you know it now that he’s closer. His dark eyes, you’d thought he still had his paint on his skin but you can see that it’s a bruise now. It’s also not. Maybe Simon was a little heavy handed in a way that you knew your friends wouldn’t like if they found out, but this was a new level. Simon always knew that the best way to corral you was to create the perimeter around you and let you tire yourself out. Patient, in the way that predators are when they crouch in high grass.

“Simon?” you wheeze, dots around your vision. A question.

The thing wearing your ex-husbands skin says your name. An answer.

You swing your hand up and only feel a brief satisfaction as it cuts the side of his shoulder. The feeling disappears when he doesn’t even flinch as he yanks your keys out and lets them drop to the floor with a terrible clink.

You shriek, muffled under the paw of his hand and he rattles your skull against the wall.

Your vision goes blurry, as if you have been submerged underwater. Pain blossoming out with each thump of your pulse, weighted and red.

You crumple but you’re caught and dragged upwards. You feel like you’re made up of static, as if someone has yanked the station and you’re hovering in some no man's land, an irritating buzzing noise that needles until it's fixed.

Given the way that you’re being carried, tossed over a shoulder and limp, you are placed on your couch with a lot more care than you expect.

You slump to the side, and the black lump that must be Simon - or whatever it is - shifts up and slants a cushion under your head.

He’s saying something, but you feel groggy, sickly. Unable to do anything other than stare at your coffee table as the sounds filter through to you. Water through paper, soggy and ruined.

Simon reaches up and takes off the balaclava, and he looks like he did on that cold table. Stubble grown out, you know he must be complaining about not being able to access a razor. Bruises cutting across his temple to his eyes. They said a bullet to his head. The way that you put down a dog.

“Fuck off,” you slur. He doesn’t crack a smile. He crouches down further in front of you so that your faces are level and you feel peculiar about being so close to his bare face. There had been a layer of deniability that you hadn’t truly believed when he’d been wearing the mask. At least you could maybe start to kid yourself that it isn’t him. The wrinkle of his brow, unbearingly intimate, this close to your eyes.

He reaches his hand out and into your hair. Pain whites out your vision - station found and blaring - and you whimper. “What -”

“Do you feel nauseous?” he asks, pulling his hand back, a jerk in his at your pained noise. He squints at his fingertips, the back of his hand against your cheek. His skin is so cold against your own, a block of ice against your fever.

The pain beats like your heart, and you can barely formulate a thought to force it out as a sentence. You blink at him, dumb and mute.

He shifts his hand and cups your cheek to hold your head steady. A balm, drawing sickness out of you and into him. You shut your eyes, inhaling deeply. A smell of dirt and moss lingers on him, the outside, dragged into your living. “Do you feel nauseous?” he repeats. The LT voice, commanding.  You grit your teeth against it, petulant.

“Yes, you fuck,” you groan, refusing to open your eyes again before you sick up all of the food that you ate that day.

He’s satisfied with your response, hand still as steady but melds into the curve of your face. Thumb on your temple, smooths your baby hairs out of your face. Like an apology, like you're a stunned bird in his hands and he didn't mean to break your wing.

“You’re dead,” you say, when he doesn’t move. You can feel the weight of his gaze on your face, but refuse to open your eyes to the rollercoaster that your body is on.

He grunts in response, knees clicking as he shifts on the floor.

No comforting response is forthcoming. You think of the bullet rattling around in his skull. No death will take, not even the real, permanent kind. It’s so ridiculous that you feel a manic laugh start to bubble up in your chest but you stifle it before it can escape.

“Don’t fall asleep,” he barks, shaking your head to jostle it until you cry out.

“Fuck you, asshole, I hope I fall asleep and die, you fuck,” you whimper.

He doesn’t have a further response to that, but stares you down until you stare back. Awake, against your will.

You drop your gaze to his shoulder, can see the cut in his jacket, where you managed to dig your keys in. You reach a hand up and press your thumb into the fabric, trying to part it to reach his flesh.

He lets you, his gaze still heavy on your face as if waiting for you to suddenly fall asleep. The look in his eye is different, but the weight of his attention is the same as it was before. Encumbering, to be loved by Simon. He had clutched on with both hands, but always had the stiff back as if waiting for the command to curl up and die.

You realise that you’re seeking something here that you cannot find in his hands. Some type of truth that touch will provide when your eyes won’t confirm it. His hands could be that cold for any reason. But here, in the meat of his shoulder, this is where you used to tuck your head under when it was cold at night.

There’s no comfort here. Simon is a stiff wall of flesh under your palm. Goose-flesh rise up all over your skin, your body finding a truth that you don’t want to acknowledge. Unsettling, like seeing something out of the corner of your eye and actually catching it in the full of your vision. 

You drop your hand, unsettled, and stare at a point over his shoulder.

Once he’s satisfied that you’re not going to drift off and get yourself killed, he gets up slowly. It’s unnerving, watching him move out of your vision and he completely disappears. He’s soundless, the faint shuffle of clothes as he moves before that disappears as well. If it wasn’t for the wet smell of mud that he’s left, you wouldn’t have known that he was in your home at all.

You stare out at your wall, unseeing. Fear of the thing in your home stops you from closing your eyes like you desperately want to. Sleep like molasses that drag your limbs down and leave you heavy. Drift downward like a weighed anchor, drowning.

Time slips away, meaningless. Memories feel like silk, forming in your mind before fluttering away, entire minutes forgotten. One moment Simon isn’t there, and then he’s back. The time between smacks together until it is thin enough to wear through in your mind. “It’s you,” you slur, although you don’t think he is.

He grunts, and reaches beneath you and hoists you up into his arms. The world takes a sharp turn and takes your vision along with it. You groan unhappily, but he ignores you and slings you around until you’re across his shoulders.

A mountain of a man, you had thought once. The view from the top is horrifying now that you’ve reached the peak, you tuck your head into his shoulder to hide from it. You wish he would hit your head again, you don’t remember your last journey up here just a few minutes ago.

“Where we goin’?” you ask, mouth choked in the cotton of his jacket.

“Out,” he says, helpfully. You throw your leg out in a pathetic attempt to kick him, which is so sad that he doesn’t even acknowledge it.

He opens the door of your car and places you in the passenger seat. His hand on your throat as he steadies your head.

It’s starting to rain, fat droplets that smack against the roof of your car.

“I’m going to pass out,” you let him know, polite, at least. The shift of his brow as he goes to snap at you again, but you’re yanked down into a pillowy darkness and you much prefer that company to this one.

[chrollohearttags]

nobody knows • portgas d. ace

another drabble for sneaky link/ex boyfriend ace bc I have one functioning brain cell and all of it is focused on him atm teehee 🤭

wc: 1.8K

more infidelity (y’all both still AIN’T SHIT 😭 reader got that dog in her I’m sorry), straight porn, modern au, black fem reader, phone sex/sexting, squirting, oral sex, calls reader bitch, a eating + anal, recording, backshots, rough sex, heavy breeding, idk what else will come out

he’s so ooc in this and I don’t give a fuck (I’m ovulating and stressed w life + therapy is too expensive)

═✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿═══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

nobody knows why you and ex-boyfriend!ace broke up in the first place. Honestly, it seemed like such a waste…three long years down the drain with nothing to show for it but the two of you left in shambles. Friends and family consoling you both as you learned to navigate life without one another. (Y/N), moving on fairly quickly with the son of one of your dad’s friends..a byproduct of military nepotism and the very antithesis to what Ace was. A stiff working a cushy desk job and reaping the benefits..pushing papers and always playing it safe. He was very kind, sweet and damn near ideal in every sense of the word. Not too much of a drinker, a partygoer or anything of the sort but he always took you on dates. All of your girlfriends liked him well enough, thinking that he more matched your speed than the thrill seeking, goofy, chaotic daredevil that was ex-boyfriend!ace. Who rode motorcycles and climbed mountains in his spare time, when he wasn’t holding life by the tips of his fingers as an EMT. Covered in tattoos, he looked like such a quintessential, stereotypical ‘bad boy’… “God, (y/n). I don’t know what you ever saw in that guy. He’s a loser, through and through.”

However, what nobody knows..is that you never truly left him alone! He was your ideal match and you couldn’t shake it. You could actually laugh, joke and make mistakes with him. There was no need for faux perfection and lies. You saw each other for who you really were.

Nobody knows that while you’re at work, he’s constantly sending you filthy messages to get you aroused and worked up. Making you chew your lip and the tip of your pen as you twirl in your chair..reading how he’s going to make sure you feel it in your stomach the next time you two link. Nobody knows he shamelessly sends you nut videos, uttering your name with the sexiest moans. Nobody knows that when you tell your assistant that the hour where you refuse any meetings is designated for you to choke on ex-boyfriend!ace’s cock in your cute little business attire..loving the way those glasses hang off the tip of your nose as he pushes your forehead to his pelvis.

“Goddamn, babe..I knew I couldn’t quit you..you’re eating my dick up so good.”

“It’d taste even better if you let me come on it first.”

loving that you were willing to abandon all of your morals for him so easily. Nobody knows about the second phone you keep stashed away in your glovebox just to call him late at night when your new man is sleeping or working overnight and you want some company..

“Can you please come over? I miss you..he won’t be back tonight. I promise.”

“Of course, baby. Anything for you..I’ll always come running when you tell me.”

or in need of a good orgasm because that dummy couldn’t give you one if you handed him a roadmap to the clit! With ex-boyfriend!ace on the other line talking you through it with that deep voice and lewd commands.

“Oh my gosh, pretty girl. Did you call me just so you could touch yourself to the sound of my voice? You’re so cute..” making you FaceTime him because he wants to see the mess he helped create.

nobody knows that whilst you're out at dinner with your new man, alongside loved ones as he boasts about how he knows you’re the one and how you guys make such a lovely couple, (y/n) is daydreaming about ex-boyfriend!ace riding you on the back of his Suzuki through the city, knowing the rush gets you turned on. That rather than dealing with an insecure little boy who felt intimidated by your looks and success, ex-boyfriend!ace would go drinking and partying with you, loving when you showed off your body because he wasn't worried about another man taking what was his. Nobody knows that you have a small tattoo of ex-boyfriend!ace’s name right above your private area. Hell, it's not as if your new man touched you enough to notice and when he did, the lights remained off.

When your girlfriends are divulging the dirt about their relationships and how envious they are of you. Claiming that you hit the jackpot with such a structured, well mannered guy who works a high paying job and always comes home to you. But what nobody knows…is that he could never replace the man you truly love. So much so, when you kiss him on the cheek that Friday evening before heading to the ‘airport’ for another business trip..you’re secretly meeting ex-boyfriend!ace in the top floor suite at a luxury hotel hours away from home where you two go every month to fuck each other's brains out for three days straight. Akin to addicts who can’t be satisfied, you rabidly devour one another until your bodies quit.

“I’ve waited all week for this…I’m so not sorry for how I’m about to fuck you.” ”I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Wrapping his hands around your throat, shoving his tongue into your mouth as he corners you against a wall. Nobody knows that ex!boyfriend!ace has you face down on a mattress with your ass up in the air as his tongue explores both of your entrances. Practically seating you on his face to suction around that clit, flicking his tongue in and out of your tight cunt before prodding your asshole, leaving a sloppy trail of saliva on each of them. Because you wore that adorable little heart shaped plug to help prep you for the weekend.

“You taste so fucking good…especially when I know you’ll let me have it anytime I want.”

nobody knows that you’re somewhere gripping the sheets for dear life as ex-boyfriend!ace delivers the most insane backshots you’ve ever felt. Those perfectly round, thick cheeks ricocheting off of his lower half..the contrast in your skin and that pearlescent scream surrounding his shaft making the sight even better…ripping orgasms from your body with no shame because he deserves it. After all, you belong to him.

“That’s right..come on this dick, bitch. Give me what I want..” he still loves and respects you all the same. But ace knows you prefer rough, degrading sex far more than the mundane and vanilla. Especially when it was in short supply with your current situation. Even going as far as to place a foot on your head, tugging your arms behind your back so that he can really bury his cock inside of you.

“Yes! Keep fucking meeee, just like that, daddy. ‘S so good!”

“You love when I dig you out like this, treating you like a little slut..’swear this pussy’s going to get me in some serious trouble one day. But I don’t care, I love you.”

rambling on as he feels you twitching around him for the third time, leaving splatters of warm juices each time; squirting immensely from the constant stimulation to your spot.

“Damn, you’re coming so hard, pretty girl. Is he not fucking you right?” Laughing before he could even get the very rhetorical question from his mouth. Leaning down to place a trail of pecks and licks on your spine to console you before placing you into a prone position. ”Of course not..nobody knows this body better than me. Isn’t that right, gorgeous?” All but confirmed by the way you’re tightening around him..he can’t help but to grip your throat and steal sloppy kisses from you whilst he drills you into the mattress. “Nooo, babyyy. You’re the only one who can fuck me this good..oh my Goddd—“ placing his camera in your face so that he could have it for safekeeping..(and in case he gets wind of your man running his mouth about him again!) Making you call his name and scream it to the heavens. “Aceeee, fuck meeee..”

Nobody knows that you’ve been fucking for damn near an hour while your phone buzzes with missed calls and texts from your boyfriend and whatever little girl he’s deciding to entertain for the moment. As heinous as it was, you were just filling the void and you’d always find your way back to each other. Perhaps it was the thrill of sneaking around that kept this charade going. Either way, you weren’t giving each other for a long time and it’s so obvious why..no one else will do the freaky shit that you both crave so much.

“Oh my gosh, I can’t believe you’re letting me fuck your ass again..feels amazing.” glaring up at him with the most adoring gaze in your eyes and smile on your face as you proudly hold a vibrator to your clit..allowing him to stretch that opposite opening. Practically coming on spot when you began to show your gratitude for this pleasure…

“Thank you, daddy..using all my holes like this. I love it so much.” That much apparent by the tears pouring down your face alongside that toothy grin. Only he could give it to you so good, you begin to cry!

“Oh shit..of course, gorgeous girl. I’d do anything for you..anything to see my baby smile.” Including pinning you down by your throat and letting trails of saliva drip into your mouth. Even feeding you a couple slaps when you all but pleaded with him to treat you like an object.

nobody knows that on the sparse occasions when you have sex with your current man, he’s forced to wear a condom because you’ve discussed several times that you don’t want children and you’re not taking any risks. But ex-boyfriend!ace gets the privilege of feeling that hard cock sliding in and out of you raw..and to breed you as many times as he can muster! Letting load after load spill into your aching womb. Filling every hole with that dripping seed.

“You look so pretty stuffed with my cum, sweetheart. Just how I like it.”

nobody knows why you left ex-boyfriend!ace in the first place but you knew why you’d always come running back!

@violetxxvenom @shamelesshoefairy @lwop-kpop

[ktownshizzle]

Masterlist

My name is K and this is the byproduct of my Min Yoongi and Bangtan Sonyeondan brainrot. In other news, Jeon Wonwoo of Seventeen has also been contributing to my sanity’s decay.

Please remember all stories herein are purely fiction. I do not claim to know BTS or SVT irl. I put warnings in every chapter. Please be guided by them, so you can have an enjoyable reading experience. I do not have an upload schedule. I will turn on my requests soon, but for now please enjoy my ongoing and completed stories below. do not copy, repost, modify, or translate my writing without my express permission to do so.

About Me | WIP update | Buy me a ko-fi | Simpler M.list Join my permanent taglist Minors DNI

Wild & Free

Status: Completed

Part 1 | Part 2

Summary: Everybody says they want to marry Min Yoongi. But what if he only wants to say 'yes' to you. Alternatively: While on the last leg of their PTD tour, Yoongi discovers there was such a thing as drive-thru weddings in Las Vegas - spontaneous, wild, exciting - something his pretty little brain can't seem to process having lived the last decade of his life planned to perfection by his management team, which includes you. When he goes down a rabbit hole of Youtube videos about The Little White Wedding Chapel (Omo! Michael Jordan got married there!), he starts getting all sorts of ideas - all of it starring him and you. Genre: Fluff, Angst, Eventual Smut, Childhood friends to lovers, Idol!au, Coworkers to lovers (reader is a HYBE employee)

Terms & Conditions

Status: Ongoing

⋆.˚ Series Masterlist ⋆.˚

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 Teaser | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

Summary: Managing Min Yoongi as one of your encoders during his alternative military service should’ve been simple. He is quiet, punctual—and can apparently type as fast as he can rap! Not to mention the fact that he is easy on the eyes and keeps wanting to help you. You’ve signed an iron-clad NDA, detailing the full terms and conditions of his temporary employment, so you’re supposed to keep things professional, but what happens if neither of you wants to? Genre: Fluff, eventual smut, co-workers to lovers, office romance, idol!au

Love & Lullabies

Status: Ongoing

⋆.˚ Series Masterlist ⋆.˚

Teaser | Part 1 | Part 2 Teaser | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 4.5 | Part 5

Summary: What begins as a simple favor for your best friend Namjoon soon pulls you into the rhythms of Yoongi’s life—afternoons spent caring for his son, late nights filled with candid conversations, and a connection neither of you thought you needed. You’re fresh out of a long-term relationship with an ex who didn’t want a family with you, so did you really just stumble into a life you’ve always dreamed of? (Thank god Namjoon isn’t the only one who’s clumsy.) Alternatively: It’s 2025 and BTS is prepping for their comeback. All members seem to have gained muscle weight from their time at camp. But Min Yoongi has gained a different kind of weight—an 8-pound baby and a fuck-load of responsibility. Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut (tbd), idol!au, Acquaintances to Lovers, Reader is Namjoon’s bestie

Friends & Fools

Status: Completed

Click here

Summary: You and Yoongi have always been just friends—inseparable since childhood, roommates in the city, partners in navigating life’s chaos. At your high school reunion, the questions start: Are you two finally together? Uh, no. But as the night goes on, and Yoongi looks at you like that, hmm—has everyone else seen something you’ve been too scared to admit? Genre: Fluff, Suggestive, non-idol!au, best friends & roommates to lovers

A Christmas Encore {Holiday Fic}

Status: Completed

Part One | Part Two

Summary: You never thought you’d see Min Yoongi again, not in this lifetime, not in this place. He left years ago with big dreams and bigger talent, trading snow-covered Seollim Hollow for the city lights of Seoul. But now, with the cultural center—the heart of your hometown—on the verge of being sold to a soulless corporation, you’ll do anything to save it. When Yoongi appears on your doorstep, it feels like a miracle wrapped in regret. But as the two of you work together to save the center, old promises resurface, along with feelings you thought you’d left behind. Can you trust someone who was never meant to stay? Or will you just get hurt again? Genre: Childhood Friends to Kinda Lovers to Kinda Strangers to Friends to Lovers (WHAT?! Yeah I got dizzy too) Second chances basically, Fluff, Smut, Mild Angst, Very Hallmark

Let Me Love You {Song fic Drabble}

Status: Pending

Click here for the Preview

Honey & Citrus

Status: Completed Read here

Summary: You haaate your job, but at least there’s this sexy eye-candy at your favorite cafe to distract you from your miserable 9 to forever grind. Your simple, casual nods with him, turn into a silent caffeine war when, after his small act of kindness, you buy him his coffee—and he refuses to let the favor go unanswered. Suddenly, you’re locked in a daily battle of who pays first, and just when you think you’ve reached a stalemate, fate (and a very nosy barista) throws in a twist you never saw coming.

That Tricky Hickey

Status: Completed Read here

Anonymous asked: Very specific request: Yoongi and you are into each other except he doesn't make it obvious. You guys are complete opposites (you're extroverted and emo and he's introverted and into rap). Your bff is dating Jimin. You + maknae line + Yoongi go on vacation. Long story short Yoongi gets mad that they're flirting with you and he proceeds to get drunk. The boys have to wake you up to take Yoongi to his room and put him to bed because he keeps asking for you. Yoongi asks you to sleep in his bed with him and gives you some pjs. He then starts marking your neck and confesses to liking you and you put a subtle stop to it because he is drunk and rub his back so he can fall sleep (fluff ). The next morning he sees your neck and is mortified but you decide to be bold and straddle him (whatever smut you want to write) and yeah that's pretty much it. I've never made a request before but it's my take of the classic there's only one bed to share situation :) You're very talented and I love your writing!

Nerd & Nerdier

Status: Completed

⋆.˚ Series Masterlist ⋆.˚ Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Summary: Moving in with two introverts should have been easy. Not when it’s Min Yoongi and Jeon Wonwoo, who decide they both want you. Unhinged, awkward, and nerdy as hell, they proceed to compete for your attention in the most unnecessarily dramatic fashion that culminates into a… rap battle.

Sweet & Spicy

Status: Completed

Read here

Summary: Turns out some cravings are just so hard to ignore. Genre: Fluffy fluff, idol!au, strangers to ?, Reader is ARMY

Yet to come

Yet to come

Yet to come

Yet to come

Yet to come

Banners by the uber talented @glossdebut

[girl-lostconnection]

been thinking about the punk x nerd au w simon and ohhhhh my godddddddddd

what if he begins running and working out during highschool and he fills out and discovers himself a bit more — and is significantly more attractive — and nerd!reader is all over ittt, and they actually start to like each other and they get closer.

what if he also goes into the military in this au, after they’ve both graduated and she’s devastated — losing her bsf like that, but they see each other later in life when he’s on leave and she’s elated and confused because that can’t be him, right? not her simon? and whose scarf is that, barely peaking out of the collar of his jacket on this cold manchester day?

hmmm just what’s been stewing in my brain!

Anon, imma be honest, its like you know something that I don’t and I’m all here for it cause reader just watching as this awkward angry teen turns into bloody behemoth of a man…damn, anon. Give me 14 of these right now. Also I’ll write about second part of your ask since it’s a little further away in the future.

THANK YOU for this opportunity to talk about Unsweetened Lemonade AU Ghost coming home from military🌟

The Soldier

Warnings: plus size gn!reader, Simon is hungry for more than just food, fluff, slight suggestive themes

Simon comes back home and it’s like nothing changed at all (like he’s still 17) — same rooftops and same streets and same tight feeling in his chest — the remnant of the war he was going through even before enlisting.

It still stings sometimes, deep inside of him, barbed wire on the inside of his jawline.

Sometimes it still aches, but Simon is no longer lanky and awkward with sharp angles and no coordination and a whole lot of rage.

Simon goes into military and comes on the other side almost twice heavier than he was before. (Twice as dangerous, twice as deadly)

The bulk of muscle and a nice level of fat born from regular training and regular meals finally shows how much sense his long limbs and towering height make.

He doesn’t regret the decision one bit, for the most part. (He only regrets he couldn’t sneak you into the base as his emotional support person)

You write to him and he gobbles up your every letter with the same hunger he finished every bite you brought him back in highschool, with the same hunger he held onto you before leaving after enlistment.

Simon reads these letters again and again until the new one comes.

He gets dropped off in the neighbourhood where you live (mates laugh and smack his shoulder, joking about lad or lass that’s gonna be happy to see him, joking that he needs to bring the pretty thing around because they’ve been dying to know who are you).

The duffel bag is slinged over his shoulder, your scarf still wrapped around his neck and anticipation coiling in his belly.

It’s been a minute since you saw each other.

Since he saw you, since he could wrap himself in your warmth, nuzzle his face in the soft pudge of your tummy (god, he missed it so badly sometimes it felt like physical aching).

Simon has been hungry for more than your meals.

He shifts his weight from one leg to another, trying to warm up as he fumbles with the written address on the scrap of paper. It shouldn’t be far from where he is right now. Just a few minutes and then he’s home.

Just a few minutes and he’s gonna see you again.

Meanwhile you don’t really expect any visitors, flat is a bit of a hot mess in Simon’s old T-shirt, cookies baking in the oven — utensils all over kitchen table.

Simon wrote that he’s getting off on leave in a few days or so and you are stress cooking because god knows he always ate a lot and you don’t know how well he ate in military.

So you decide that’s better safe and sorry and start getting ready two days before he’s even supposed to be back in Manchester.

Imagine your surprise when someone knocks on your door — three short knocks, sound crisp clear when you freeze looking through the peephole because what the hell.

On your doorstep there is a mountain of a man, for the lack of better word, you frankly can’t even see his face since he stands too close to the door — black sweater and awfully familiar scarf peeking out of the collar of his jacket.

And you are so baffled you almost miss the familiar “Luv, open up, ‘ts me” from the man on your doorstep and maybe he’s got the wrong address and looking for someone else.

But you don’t manage to finish the thought before your body moves on its own and swings the door open.

Jesus Christ.

He’s even bigger when you are face to face with him, the need to crane your neck just to see dark eyes with adorably blond eyelashes certainly doesn’t help with how astounded you are.

“Can I help you?”, you aren’t sure what is going on or who is that but then the man scoffs in even more familiar way, pulling the scarf down and oh my god. It’s Simon. This is your Simon.

“Forgo’ me so quickly?”, he’d sound annoyed if he wasn’t so happy to see you, brown eyes soft with adoration. And before you can answer he’s taking a step inside your flat, closing the door behind him. It’s cold outside after all, surely you wouldn’t leave him out in the cold.

“Though’ I was special”, the rumble of his voice kicks the air out of you, eyes wide and face heating up quickly because Jesus Christ, he’s big.

Thighs thick and hips meaty, legs looking like he could crush your skull if he wanted to (lord have mercy, don’t think about it, no, you must stay focused).

He’s big and he smells good (why the hell he smells so good, it should be illegal, you will look like absolute creep sniffing him) and he’s looking at you like he can’t get enough of you. Like this reunion is even better than what he imagined.

God, you just might need to crawl into the freezer and sit there for a minute because you are too hot and he’s so fucking hot, what the hell, who is this man and what did they fucking feed him in military???

“Simon”, the first time is more of an exhale but then he nods, shaking his jacket off, duffel bag hitting the floor with dull thump and in the next moment you are all over him.

“Simon”, your hands wrapping around him (you are NOT gonna think that your two hands are not enough to close around his midriff) and face pressing to his chest — pectoral muscles cushioning against your cheek.

Oh, this is bliss. This is so good you just might forget about anything else.

You now know where you’d like to be buried.

In this man chest, please.

And Simon can’t help but hum, the sound low and pleased — his hands hoisting you up so he can get a grip on your thighs, fingers sinking into the meat of them and bloody hell, this is good.

This is fucking lovely.

He’d love to have his head between these thighs of yours.

As a matter of fact, could you maybe suffocate him with them so he can die happy (and hard as a rock)? Please?

But it can wait a little because you are finally in his hands, your arms wrapped now around his shoulders, eyes shining with absolute joy — looking at him like he’s everything. Like you are happy. Like you’ve been waiting for him.

He’s here. Simon is home.

Simon nuzzles his nose into your cheek, teeth itching to sink into the softness of it, itching to take a bite, itching to lick the blood off—

Ghost hoists you up a little higher because there’s no need for you to feel just how happy he is to see you. Not yet, at least.

“Yeah, luv, told ye, it’s me”, he murmurs, practically vibrating with satisfaction when your grip on him tightens.

Yeah, that’s right, don’t let go of him. Sink yourself into him just as he wants into you, taste the blood from his veins — it’s all yours anyway, he’s all yours.

Always been.

It takes him a few minutes to actually let you down, body immediately aching for the warmth and softness he’s been missing so badly.

But he can smell that you’ve been cooking something and if it’s okay with you he’s willing to sate his hunger with something more traditional.

Simon eats and keeps a close eye on you eating (can’t have you go hungry on him), passing the best bites back, pressing them against your lips — eyes half-lidded and heavy when your tongue accidentally flicks against the pads of his fingers.

Simon leaves the kitchen only when you both are full and sated, the button on his jeans popped open because well, maybe he was hungry for your meals too.

Can you really blame him? He’s been away so long, he just needs to catch up on everything he missed.

Simon pulls you onto the couch to tuck in to his side, mumbles something about “afternoon nap, luv”.

He is a lot like sated predator, all lazy grace and heavy bulk and heat rolling off in waves. Simon nuzzles his big head into your neck, palms holding onto the small of your back and your thigh, splayed over them possessively. Holding you close.

He’s out cold in the matter of minutes, finally relaxed and full and so warm. Finally with you. Not going anywhere, not leaving the side of his lovely sweetheart.

All yours, you just got to let him stay and protect you.

Just let him stay and love you, devour you, keep you warm and soft and round with happiness.

Just let him and he’s going to make sure you never regret it.

[luvelola]

what if in the military!au, reader does the “current boyfriend” prank on rafe? masterlist !

the video starts with yn holding the phone up at a soft angle, golden hour hitting her just right. she’s in a big t-shirt, ponytail holder sliding out of her head, and that mischievous smile that always means trouble. in the background, biscuit barks twice and a screen door slams.

she whispers to the camera like it’s a secret she’s letting the internet in on — something sweet and casual — “just showing y’all my current boyfriend real quick,” she says, voice syrupy and smooth. “he’s been real good to me lately. cooked breakfast, took the trash out, didn’t forget the dog food this time.”

then the camera pans to rafe.

he’s standing out by the fence in camo pants and a faded t-shirt, grease on his forearm, a half-drunk beer bottle sitting on a nearby post and he’s minding his business until he hears those two words.

his head snaps toward her like he misheard. “current?”

he squints. she just smiles harder. there’s a beat — like a storm cloud rolling in low — before rafe starts walking toward her, slow and steady like he’s choosing violence.

he doesn’t even say anything at first. just stares at her with that “baby, don’t play with me” look. she tries to keep it together but ends up giggling halfway through her lemonade sip. “what? temporary vibes. i might upgrade.”

he doesn’t take the bait— just tosses the beer aside and scoops her straight off the porch bench. she squeals, slippers flying, drink sloshing, phone tilting wildly.

in the chaos, two tiny voices erupt from the yard, miles yelling, sword raised like he’s charging into battle, and zara right behind him in a tutu and muddy rain boots screaming “daddy wait!! i’m da baby!!”

biscuit starts barking like he’s part of a SWAT team.

the camera wobbles and falls to the porch as yn laughs breathlessly offscreen. all you hear is her saying ‘she can’t film nothing without the whole damn squad showing up’, and rafe somewhere in the mix telling her to say current again and see what happens.

at the end, zara’s face appears on the fallen phone, nose smushed to the lens, eyes wide.

“i wanna see butterbean.”

then it cuts off.

comments:

@.randomuser#1

not biscuit acting like he got beef w/ the camera 💀💀💀

@.randomuser#2

the way he snatched you up like a grocery bag 😭😭 if mine don’t react like this, i don’t want him

@.randomuser#3

not butterbean having lore

see 62 more..

comment to be added to taglist !

[joonberriess]

w e c a n ’ t b e f r i e n d s

⋆ TAGS — ANGST like rlly bad, toxic relationships, oc and jk dated since they were young, canon au but the boys don’t go to the military, arguing (lots), protected sex, cowgirl styleee, jk’s a little mean, dirty talk, jk’s slightly possessive(?), pussy eating under the sheets, slight face fucking and cum swallowing, bad ending oop, hinted cheating but not between oc and jk, does it count if they weren’t together ur honor, making out, jk’s a really bad bf, oc’s also quick to jump to conclusions sooo toxic combooo

⋆ WORD COUNT — 9.8 k

It’s the same thing (over and over) where you fight and break up, then kiss and make-up. The cycle’s everlasting and it feels like you’re just going in circles.

The littlest things were enough to set either one of you off. It could be that Jungkook looked at you some type of way, or that you used a tone he didn’t like. You fought over the dumbest things but somehow always ended up back together?

Childhood sweethearts, they called it. You started dating all the way back when you were just teens, Jungkook was a bit awkward around the edges but the sweetest boy ever. It was a miracle your relationship survived after he left to train and then you did too.

But as the years went on it seemed sometimes like the love was fading. It just wasn’t the same anymore (evident in your frequent fights). What felt like love once now felt stagnant, like you two just existed in each other’s world and co-existed together.

Yes he was your boyfriend, and you his girlfriend but that was all. Just y/n and Jungkook. It didn’t feel special anymore. When did the love start to die out?

You’ve been thinking about it for a while now in between your breaks from the relationship, and the very thought terrifies you.

“I thought you and Eunwoo were going out?” You softly asked, a bit surprised to see Jungkook still here in the living room.

“Change of plans.” Jungkook shrugs, “Something came up.” He’s curt and brief, doesn’t even look at you when he’s talking which annoys you a tiny bit but for your sake and his you don’t comment.

“Oh, that sucks,” you softly say and slip onto the couch opposite of him, “did he cancel on you or was it just not a good time?” You’re sitting on pins and needles watching him and his reactions closely.

“I dunno,” Jungkook sighs like he’s exasperated by the conversation, “he didn’t tell me.” You know he’s starting to get annoyed when he does that thing with his tongue inside his cheek.

“You wanna watch a movie?” You quietly ask. You’re worried Jungkook didn’t hear you at first but a couple of seconds later he’s nodding and holding out the remote to you.

It doesn’t feel right. It makes you feel like he’s generously giving you the light of day to entertain your “silly ideas”. You don’t like it.

You go about picking a movie, not even bothering with asking him what he wanted to watch. You doubt he’d even reply to you, maybe if you were lucky he’d just say “Pick whichever one.”

“I heard this one’s good.” A hum, “Came out—I think, last month..? Yeah.” Another hum, “Should I bring snacks?” Head shake.

You kinda get the memo and shut up after that, the ache you’re feeling still lingering in your heart. The credits roll in and the movie’s starting, you look out of the corner of your eye to get a look at Jungkook. He’s just sitting there quietly, eyes focused on the TV screen.

It feels normal—looks normal, but you know and feel that it’s really not.

After arguing with yourself in your head, you finally muster the courage to slip off the couch and into Jungkook’s side. You hide your face in his shoulder and lean against him comfortably. Jungkook doesn’t respond for two seconds before he’s casually slipping his hand over your knee.

It feels..good again. You, Jungkook, and his thumb that caresses your knee ever so gently like you’re made of glass. Maybe you really were worried about nothing. It was probably your head messing with you again and making you think things that weren’t true.

Are they though? I don’t know.

“Oh how prettyy,” you softly marvel at the white dress the actress on screen was wearing, “I wanna have one like that when we get married.”

Jungkook doesn’t utter a word and at first you’re like okay, it’s whatever he’s been doing this already anyways. You don’t really begin to think about it until you feel gentle caresses come to a stop. You turn to him to ask what’s wrong but you think you have your answer.

“What, you don’t wanna marry me?” You softly joke but you’re met with silence. He looks troubled, like he wants to say something but can’t get it out, “.. Jungkook? What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.” Jungkook shakes his head, “I was thinking.”

Your stomach does that weird thing again where it feels like it’s dropping. You can hear your own heartbeat ringing in your eardrums too, “About?” You whisper.

Jungkook finally meets your eyes with a pinched expression, “I don’t know if I’m sure about marriage yet, I don’t think I’m ready.” He quietly explains, “I don’t feel ready. I feel like there’s so much more I can still do before settling down.” With you…?

Your eyes almost water but you refuse to let them, “So..you don’t want to marry me?”

“What–no, I said I wasn’t ready,” Jungkook blinks rapidly, “I.. I didn’t say that.” He says once he recovers from the initial shock.

“Then what did you mean?” It comes out snappier than intended, “Because to me it feels like something else.”

Jungkook grows visibly irritated, “y/n you’re blowing shit out of proportion again, I didn’t even say anything about you specifically, why the hell are you twisting my words?”

“You make it sound like I’m being weird about this, you were the weird one when all I said was a tiny joke. You’re the one taking it some type of way.” You’re trembling with adrenaline.

“I was just telling you how I feel,” Jungkook stands up and paces back and forth, “why are you being like this? You always wanna say it’s me who starts arguing but look at you!”

Hot tears of anger well in your eyes, “Because it is always you! You give me weird ass attitudes when I’ve done nothing to you, I barely even talk to you!”

Jungkook pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes, “I’m not doing this again with you. I just fucking can’t, I mean fuck, look at us! All we fucking do is fight, fight, fight and you expect me to wanna marry you? To be stuck with this? No thank you!”

You wipe your tears and stand up, “And there it is, at least I know how you really felt. Saved me my time too.” You glare as you pass by him in the direction of his room.

Jungkook shakes his head, “Where are you going? It’s late.” He calls out loudly, “y/n, answer me.”

“I’m going home Jungkook, it’s fine we’re done. We don’t have to keep doing this anymore.” You look back with dry tears, “I’m done too, I’m tired of pretending everything’s okay when it’s not.”

He doesn’t respond to that, he knows it’s true. “At least let me walk you out to the car.” He quietly murmurs.

“No.”

“y/n, don’t–”

“Leave me alone.” You whisper and storm out of his apartment, away from your home without your heart.

+

It takes three weeks for you to realize that he’s not coming back. He hasn’t texted or called and suddenly it feels real. You were in deep denial the entire time thinking maybe he’d come around and you could talk it out like you always do. He never showed.

You don’t like this, it hurts like a deep ache you can’t seem to get rid of. You find yourself choking up every time you think about him, you don’t want this. You never wanted this.

“Fuck, please,” you whisper shakily. A few rings go by and then you finally hear him.

“..y/n?”

“Jungkook, I need you.” You softly whisper into the phone, “Please..?” He goes silent on the other end and with each passing beat you’re more worried and anxious.

“Where are you?” He softly replies.

“Home.” You quietly croak, the relief filling you in an instant.

“Okay, stay right there I’m on my way. Please just—just sit tight okay?”

You nod like he’s right here in the room telling you face to face, you don’t even know why. He stays on the phone with you in comfortable silence, you hear when he leaves his apartment, when he starts his car and when he finally pulls into your parking garage.

“Is the door the same code as before?” Jungkook asks quietly.

“Yeah..”

“Okay, I’m here outside.” He hangs up the call briefly and then you hear the beeping noise of your front door unlocking.

The sight of Jungkook has your heart breaking into millions of pieces when you realize he’s not yours. Not anymore. You blink away the fresh tears welling up, he visibly softens and holds his arms out for you.

“Come here.” He softly murmurs. You don’t waste a second and cross the living room into his arms in an instant.

Jungkook wraps his arms around you tightly and holds you against his chest. He shushes you softly and sways side to side while you softly cry into his chest. He whispers everything’s going to be okay but it’s not—not with him not by your side.

“Sit, I’m gonna go bring you some water.” Jungkook softly says as he leads you over to the couch.

You nod quietly and watch with red rimmed eyes as he walks off into your kitchen. There’s a million things running through your head right now but you were more concerned with Jungkook. You hated how distant he was, it felt alien-like and weird.

“Here,” Jungkook murmurs as he comes back with the glass of water, “I brought some tissues too.”

You quietly accept with a soft thanks as you wipe your nose and take a tentative sip of water. He watches you with pity in his eyes, and you don’t want him to look at you like that. It makes your skin crawl and leaves you frustrated because you didn’t want his pity.

You just wanted him.

“So what happened?” Jungkook quietly asks after a few minutes of letting you gather yourself.

“I miss you and it just hurts so bad the way things ended. I’ve been regretting it and it hurts–” You can’t even finish because you’re already tearing up again and Jungkook hushes you softly.

“I know,” he solemnly says, “I know it does. Trust me you’re not the only one feeling like shit about this, you think it’s easy for me to let someone I’ve loved walk away after years? It’s fucking hard.”

He sighs shakily, “But I know that if I truly did love you and wanted the best for you, I’d do this. I just can’t keep up anymore, all the arguing is just not good for us y/n and you know it.”

“I know, I know.” You say into your hands with a sniffle, “But I don’t feel like letting go.”

“Me neither,” Jungkook gently brings your hands into his and looks into your eyes, “but we can’t keep going like this. We tell ourselves it’ll be fine but it’s not, it never is.”

You stare silently into eachothers eyes until Jungkook finds his voice again, “Which is why I think we should just take a break for I don’t know how long but we need to work on ourselves. If you truly loved me like I do to you, you’ll let me go and work on myself. You’ll want me to get better.”

And it’s true. You’ve only ever looked out for his best interest and wanted nothing but good things for him. But is it so bad to want to be a little selfish?

“I know.”

“So you understand we have to actually put in the effort if we want this to work out in the future? We can’t half ass this and rush into things anymore, that’s not how I want it to be between us.” He whispers softly.

You look at Jungkook miserably, “Yeah, I get it..” You quietly say, “I just..just promise me you’ll still be here in the end.”

Jungkook cups your cheek gently and smiles which doesn’t look genuine, it's a more sad bittersweet smile. “I’ll be here.”

“Okay..”

“Okay.”

+

You’re not together but it doesn’t feel like you’re not together? You don’t know how to explain it but it’s weird.

Before it was obviously a shitshow with all the arguments and whatnot. Several things actually like Jungkook’s attitude and his weird bipolar moods, and then you with your misinterpretations and spiteful words. It’s different now.

It almost feels like you’re happier with him now than before when you two were actually together. It’s funny that it takes a break up for you two to start being civil and loving—more than before actually. You don’t act like exes, and you both know you don’t.

Exes don’t call each other every night to ask how their day went, neither do they sleep over or cook for each other. It’s one thing to call up your ex from time to time but everyday? Were there no boundaries because you two clearly needed to set some.

Your friends tell you they’re proud but you don’t feel so good knowing you’re still going back to him every night. Sometimes you fuck, sometimes you don’t, most days he’ll just want company or someone to come with him to shop for groceries. You do all these things telling yourself you’re just here for support, nothing wrong in that right?

There’s nothing wrong with being friends with your ex, right? That’s all it is, just friends.

“Hold on, I'll be back, I got a call.” You excuse yourself from the table and head into another room for more privacy. “Hello?”

“Hey, are you doing anything right now?” It’s Jungkook again and it makes your tummy flutter with butterflies at the sound of his voice.

“Uhh, not really? I’m just having some dinner with friends, why?”

“No reason I just wanted to see if you could come over and maybe we can watch a movie or somethin’. I also realized I might have ordered a little too much fried chicken, old habits die hard I guess.” He jokes softly.

You think it’s a little cute and you can’t help but say yes right away, “Let me finish up real quick and I’ll head over in a bit.” You’re smiling like an idiot right now.

“I can come get you..? Only if you want me to though.”

“That sounds good to me, text me when you get here then.” You softly say, “Bye.” It’s a little awkward not saying ‘love you’ but then you remember you’re not technically together and your entire mood is soured a little.

Shit, what are you going to tell the girls? Something came up and you have to go? No, they’ll ask and you’re a horrible liar. Plus you’re stressing out a little over how you’re going to leave undetected, what if Soyeon tries to walk you out to the car or something? You don’t drive but Soyeon has a habit of walking you out whenever you leave her house (god bless).

It’s moments like these that make you wish Soyeon wouldn’t offer, just for today.

“Hey what’s up?” Soyeon says when she sees you re-enter the room, “Everything good?”

“Yeah but I forgot I had a meeting coming up, it’s about a comeback coming up soon and they need me for creative directing or something. Point is I gotta go guys, sorry.” You don’t like lying to them like this but they’re gonna give you shit and right now you don’t want to hear it.

“Oh cool, okay then we’ll hang some other time then yeah?” Soyeon smiles as she begins pushing her seat back. Oh no.

“Stay here it’s fine, the car’s almost here anyways and it’s a bit chilly outsideeee so stayyy.” You whine while pushing her back into her seat, “Also Miyeon’s literally here, keep her company don’t be rude.”

Both girls look confused as Soyeon raises a brow in question, “Miyeon’s fine she sees me almost everyday. Just let me walk you out weirdo.”

“You’re not even wearing shorts Yeon, just sit this one out I’m good. I’ll text you when I get in the car and stuff okay?” Soyeon doesn’t look convinced but she nods anyways and agrees to let you go reluctantly, “Bye!” You wave and hurriedly make your way out after Jungkook texts you he’s here.

“Byeee.” Once you’re out the door you let out a sigh of relief you didn’t know you were holding in. Why was that girl so damn stubborn? You love her to death but now was NOT the time.

jk: outside

You hurried down the hall and to the elevator. Jungkook was waiting for you in the parking lot outside of his car, just leaned back against the hood of it with his hands in his pockets. “Are you cold?” He asks as soon as you come in front of him.

“A little bit,” you smile and sink into his warm and welcoming embrace, “you’re super warm though.”

Jungkook chuckles quietly and strokes your hair, “Here I’ll give you my sweater.” He shrugs it off and holds it out to slip you in it, “You look funny.” He laughs.

“Your face is funny.” You stick your tongue out meanly meanwhile he laughs, “Alright hurry up, I’m cold and hungry.” You pull away from him and head to your side of the car, happily sighing as the warm air from inside hits you.

“I thought you ate already.” Jungkook snorts in amusement as he slips into the car.

“Well I’m hungry again.” You grumble.

He doesn’t respond verbally at least, he shifts the car into drive with a tiny smile on his face. You find yourself leaning back into your seat with a soft smile of your own. Times like these you were able to just sit back and forget about everything and anything. The only thing that mattered right now was you and Jungkook.

That’s it.

.

The movie ended up becoming background noise over the soft sounds of Jungkook’s lips meeting your own over and over again. The food lays discarded on his coffee table, half-eaten with a couple of soju bottles littering around the boxes.

It feels good like this with Jungkook’s hand tangled in your hair and his other settled over your hip. You’re sitting halfway in his lap, the angle a bit awkward but doable nonetheless. You hear him release a low grunt in his throat, lips smacking wetly over your own as he tightens his fingers on your hip.

You thread your fingers through his hair, stroking over his head gently pretending to not notice how he leaned into your touch eagerly. You barely even notice when he impatiently drags you onto his lap and sits you firmly over his thighs, your own bracketing his hips and closing him in.

“Jungkook,” you quietly sigh while bearing down on him and grinding over the thick bulge in his joggers.

“Yeah..?” He replies through a quiet sigh as his half-lidded eyes watch down below between you two where your clothed cunt is pressed tight to his hard cock.

You can’t reply because you’re caught off guard by a bubbling moan in your throat. You find yourself gripping the collar of his shirt tightly between nimble fingers when he suddenly bucks his hips up sharply. The print of his dick presses tighter against your slick folds, the head messily bumping into your throbbing clit.

Jungkook lets out a ragged groan as he tilts his head back and parts from the messy kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips. He guides your hips with both hands as he rolls you over his cock and holds you down to keep you in place. It makes your breath hitch and a stuttered moan slip from your lips.

“Fuck..” You pant softly as your toes curl, “Need you so bad.” You whisper in between the short rough grinds.

He bites his lip harshly and reaches down to unbutton your jeans, you help him slide them off as he hooks his fingers under your panties and tugs them to the side. You feel his fingertips slide through your messy folds, circling over your swollen bud and pressing down with the pads of his fingers.

The slide’s pretty slippery, you barely feel his touch but the pleasure bubbles over and leaves you tingly and hot down there. Jungkook teases you by dipping his fingers low against your fluttering hole that greedily squeezes around nothing. “Don’t tease,” you mutter softly and lean forward to press kisses against his jawline.

“Fuck, wait.” He reaches over and blindly pats the sofa for something you can’t really be bothered to look at. A low hum leaves him when he finally finds what he was looking for: condom.

You watch him bite the foil open and reach down to shove his sweats off, the way his dick slaps against his stomach has you squirming in anticipation. He hisses low through his teeth as he strokes the tip slowly before rolling the condom on. You watch hungrily as his cock’s engulfed in the thin rubber, standing hard ‘n tall with a beady pearl of precum getting trapped within the condom.

“Good?” He mumbles once he positions his cock under you, the tip’s barely brushing over your hole before you’re whining at him for more.

“I’m good,” you wrap your arms around his neck and tug him closer, “now fuck me..please?” You say after a couple of seconds of silence.

Jungkook huffs out a breathless laugh and shakes his head, “You’re cute.” His amused tone dissolves into a low moan when you start pushing his cock in, inching yourself down until your perk ass meets his thighs with a low pap noise.

Fuck you forgot how full he makes you feel when you ride him, your poor little cunt’s all stuffed up with his fat cock. It doesn’t help that there’s a little sting from the stretch with the way your pussy hugs his cock tightly. Jungkook though looks blissed out, he bites his lip and watches through hooded eyes, he’s moving his hands to grip your hips tight.

“Feels so good,” you slur out and start bounding idly, not too fast or slow, “feel..full.” Your tone comes out lewd and borderline pornographic. Can he blame you? His dick always fucked you stupid, turned you into a little yapper too.

Jungkook grunts quietly, “Yeah? You’re gonna be a good girl and ride me like you mean it baby?” The words slip out of his filthy mouth like nothing, you almost forgot the nasty shit he used to tell you when he was plowing your brains out on a Tuesday night.

“Y-Yeah,” you gasp softly as your eyes flutter shut when he hits that one spot you like, “so, so good Jungkookie,” you whine quietly while rocking your hips back and forth, your cunt greedily swallows him up through every push and tug.

Jungkook groans low and moves his hands to settle over your ass cheeks, he grips each cheek in his hand and squeezes, kneading the flesh under his palms. “Shit–like that,” he huffs softly as he guides your hips in smooth fluid grinds, “so fuckin’ good.” He groans again and tosses his head back.

You bite on your lower lip to supress your whimpers, your hips bounce lightly in his lap with a low fopping sound as Jungkook’s cock coaxes more slick out of your pussy. You’re dripping through the sides as a low squelch emits from your sopping cunt. Through the soft moans and grunts you there’s a skin on skin slapping sound your ass makes when they meet his thighs.

“Oh, fuck.” You whisper, breathing picking up as your hands slide down to settle over his abdomen for purchase.

Jungkook’s lips part, eyesbrows pinching together in concentration as he watches you fuck yourself languidly on his cock. His body lightly rocks upwards from your eager bouncing, the slapping noises only get louder the more you grow desperate. He can’t help but land a hard smack on your cheek, watching in satisfaction as you mewl from both pain and pleasure.

“You like that baby?” He breathlessly asks, “Like being slapped around like a slut? Hm?”

“Y-Yeah,” you gasp shakily and throw your head back, “love it so much Jungkookie,” you mewl.

Jungkook moves one hand from your ass up to your head, fisting the back of your hair and forcing you to expose your neck for him. “How much?” He grunts low, “Whose cock makes you scream like this?”

You swear the ache in your skull from him yanking on your hair makes you even wetter. The throbbing in your pussy has you wildly grinding against him for more, you can’t even reply because of the uncontrollable moans you’re letting out right now.

“Answer me,” he hisses with another smack to your cheek.

“You do! Only you,” you softly sob as he stops you and holds you in place, “please ‘m so close, wanna cum.” You try to bounce, move, anything—but he’s not letting up as he holds you in place and leaves you squirming all over his cock.

“Cum.” Jungkook darkly murmurs as he begins fucking into you from below, his sharp thrusts send you flying into his chest as you cry out.

He drives his cock right up against your g-spot with each hit, the living room quickly fills with the sounds of his balls hitting your ass and the couch creaking from the weight. He doesn’t hold back on his moans either, he’s cussing and groaning under his breath as he uses your pussy to his liking. You on the other hand..

“Jungkook..!” You feel your pussy clamp down and you reach down to rub at your clit in fast circles, trembling and whining as your orgasm approaches fast.

He grips your cheeks tighter and spreads you open as he fucks his cock in and out of your sloppy cunt. Your mouth falls open as the wind is knocked out of you, you’re coming fast and hard as stars explode behind your eyelids. You feel like a ragdoll in his hands as he fucks away into your oversensitive cunt.

“Shit—nearly there baby,” he whispers as his eyes flutter shut in pleasure, “oh fuck.” He grits his teeth and bucks up hard until his hips are stuttering in their pace and he’s groaning loud.

You wish he wasn’t wearing the condom as you feel every little throb and twitch inside. It makes you drool at the thought of his hot thick cum filling your ruined little pussy, it’d probably drip afterward too..

“Good?” He quietly asks as he tries to catch his breath.

You end up laying your head on his shoulder for a couple of seconds, enjoying the way he rubs your back gently in a comforting manner. “Yeah, ‘m okay.” You softly reply while clinging to him like a koala.

Jungkook hums, you don’t go home after that, or the day after.

+

“Damn when did it get so hot?” Taehyung complains under his breath, “Swear it feels like the weather was cooler yesterday, don’t tell me summer’s already coming.” He groans.

Jungkook hears Hoseok grunt in agreement, “Can you believe spring’s almost over though? We’re like a month away from summer starting.”

“What? No way.” Jungkook frowns, it can’t be, the last time he spoke with you was—

“You realize we’re in the last month of spring right?” Taehyung looks at him weirdly with a snort, “Have you been living under a rock or something?”

Hoseok joins in on the teasing but Jungkook doesn’t think it’s so funny anymore. Not when he realizes it’s been almost two whole months since you and him decided to take a break. He hasn’t really kept up with your life like that, the last time he spoke was when he asked if you were home and then he did go over and you guys ended up—

Holy shit.

“Jungkook,” Hoseok calls out, “your phone’s ringing.” By the looks on their faces they know who’s calling right now. Hoseok looks mildly disappointed and Taehyung just seems tired of it.

“Are you gonna answer it?” Taehyung asks tentatively.

Jungkook looks at your caller ID and then silences his ringer, “Nah, I’ll see what’s up later. Where do you guys wanna go next?” They look at him like he’s crazy and Jungkook sighs, “What?”

“We didn’t know you guys were still together, thought the breakup was for good.” Hoseok quietly admits.

Oh. Right, Jungkook’s been talking about how you’ve both been separated for a cool minute now. Of course they would naturally think that you’ve both finally realized you’re no good and left each other the fuck alone. He’ll never forget their proud faces when Jungkook admitted he walked away from it.

“Look, she’s a good person and all that but is it really worth it if all you do is fight and tear at each other? I mean it’s not like this is the first time.” Taehyung rambles slowly as Hoseok nods along to every word, “Don’t you think that maybe answering her would fuck up all the progress you’ve made so far?”

Will it? Jungkook likes to think that maybe he’s doing a good job but clearly not if Taehyung and Hoseok are calling him out on it. Of course they want the best for him too, they’ve been his hyungs since forever (but you were his forever too).

“Look I know it’s bad,” Jungkook sighs, “but I just can’t leave her like that either, it’s wrong. She’s been in my life since we were kids Tae, I’m not gonna just ditch her like that.”

“And nobody’s mad at you for it but Jungkook c’mon, you need to set some boundaries for your sake man. You can’t fall back into this nasty habit, not when you’re doing so good for yourself right now.” Jungkook knows Taehyung’s referring to his upcoming Golden album release.

“Listen, we’re not gonna police you because you’re a big boy and you can deal with your own shit but I’m just telling you right now it’s not a good idea whatever you’re doing with her right now. The sooner you begin to pull away, the easier it will be when you two finally decide on the future of your relationship.” Hoseok finishes quietly.

They’re right and Jungkook hates that they are. As unsettling as the truth is, that’s just what it is and Jungkook can’t change that.

You’re broken up but why does he still go over? Why does he cook for you two, watch movies in bed like a couple and then fuck you to sleep before the cycle repeats over and over? Did you ever break up to begin with?

“If you want this to work you need to let go.” Taehyung’s hand comes up to squeeze his shoulder, “Some things were not made to be forever, and unfortunately this is one of them.”

Jungkook looks up at the two men in front of him, they’ve each got reassuring smiles on their faces and for the first time he feels good about his decisions. He makes a mental note in the back of his head to speak with you later on, for now he’ll just enjoy this.

+

“I didn’t know you and Jungkook were still together.” Soyeon comments upon seeing a sweater she knew was too big to be yours and quite frankly wasn’t something you’d personally go out and buy yourself.

“Oh, that—we’re actually not.” You chuckle under your breath, “He left it here the other day–”

“The other day?” Yuqi frowns, “What do you mean? I thought you guys haven’t seen each other in two months?” You can tell they’re equally confused about the situation.

“We aren’t together-together, we’re just kinda hooking up here and there whenever we feel like it.” You shrug.

“Uh-huh, and he just leaves his clothes too?” Soyeon raises a brow, “y/n—babe, I love you but what the hell? I thought you and him were completely done already?” She says, Yuqi nodding along in agreement.

Now it’s your turn to look at them confused, “What? We’re just hooking up, it isn’t anything bad either I mean we’re doing better now than before.”

Soyeon sighs deeply and sits down, “Have you maybe thought about why things are better now? Because you’re not together y/n, you’re only doing ‘better’ now because you don’t have a label to the relationship because you’re both pretending shit’s okay.”

“This can’t be good either y/n, it’s not healthy it’s just gonna lead you both down the same path as before. You guys think that because you’re happy now, the issues aren’t gonna be there.” Yuqi shakes her head.

Of course you knew they were gonna start with this but your pride was too strong to admit that they were of course right about this. It’s something you’ve been intentionally ignoring, kind of like if you don’t think about it, it’s not true type of thing. Which in itself was a pretty bad mindset.

“But we’re gonna fix things.” You softly reply.

“Are you?” Soyeon looks like she doesn’t believe you, you don’t even believe yourself.

Yes, yes, yes—

“I don’t know.” You find yourself saying without thinking, that’s the truth right? Right..?

Yuqi sighs sympathetically and shakes her head, “It’s time to let go, it’s over y/n—for good. I know it’s hard love but you have to do it.”

“I’ll…talk to him later about it, can’t guarantee this but I’m going to try to break things off permanently.” You’re just tired of this back and forth with yourself wondering if Jungkook and you are truly going to be okay.

You know you both will be okay…just not together and that’s what hurts the most to think about. They don’t push the topic anymore, something you’re thankful for. The entire time you’re with the girls you’re stuck thinking about Jungkook.

you: come over

You spent at least ten minutes with your thumb hovering over the button before you actually pressed it. It shouldn’t be so fucking scary but you’re just extremely nervous right now. Your friend’s words ring in your head over and over again like a mantra and you feel like you’re going mad.

jk: rn?

you: yea, really want to see you

jk: me too.

read.

It’s the shit like this that makes you question everything. You hate how weak you are because Jungkook can sweet talk his way into your head and you wouldn’t be able to stop him. It’s not like he does it intentionally but still the power he holds over you, it’s stupid.

After the girls left you ended up cleaning the living room a bit, stopping in your tracks when you came across the sweater he left behind. You stare at it for a couple of seconds before slipping it on finding it much more comfy wearing his clothes. You hear the front door keypad beeping before it unlocks and Jungkook’s slipping in.

“Hey.” He greets quietly and shuts the door behind him.

You smile up at him and tug on the sweater paws, taking note of the sweaty state he was in, “You coming from the gym orrrr…?”

“Oh yeah,” he laughs, “I just got finished with working out when you texted me. Look at that,” he flexes his bicep to show you, “hot huh?” He grins.

“Ew no as if, go take a damn shower you probably stink.” You pretend to cover your nose and gag, giggling when he rolls his eyes at you.

“Yeah, yeah whatever.” He walks over to tug you into his arms, “This my hoodie?” He mumbles, “Looks good.”

You let him lay soft kisses over your pouty lips until you’re pushing him away with a low grumble, “Go shower now, I don’t wanna stink of sweat in your hoodie.” You snort.

Jungkook lays one last kiss over your forehead and walks in the direction of your room, “So mean and for what? It’s literally my hoodie who cares if it stinks? I’m gonna be taking it off anyways.” He smirks deviously.

You follow with a unamused look, one that leaves no room for anymore arguments. “I’ll wait for you out here,” you flop on the bed and turn on your TV, “go on, shoo.”

“Meanie.” Jungkook mumbles but makes his way into your bathroom nonetheless.

You catch up on some of your shows you were watching at the moment while waiting for Jungkook to come back out. You’ve long made yourself comfortable in bed, curled up under your soft comforter with the remote in hand. He doesn’t come out for at least fifteen minutes or so, you don’t really mind because it feels oddly domestic.

“You’re watching this too?” Jungkook breaks the silence in the room, “I’m on the last episode.”

You barely look at him as he walks over to the bed in nothing but his towel wrapped around his waist. “Yeah, I started this like a week ago I think.” You murmur distractedly as he flops in bed with you, “Don’t get my pillows wet,” you whine with no real bite to your tone.

“It’ll dry.” Jungkook snorts as he lays his head over your blanket covered lap. The two of you fall into silence afterwards with him loosely wrapping an arm around you.

Nothing happens after that, you lay together quietly while the episode runs in the background. Occasionally Jungkook turns to hide his face in your lap, you can’t help but slip your hand in his wet hair and gently comb over it, lightly scratching at his scalp.

“Wouldn’t it be funny if I spoiled it?” He pipes up out of nowhere.

“Do it and I’m throwing you out towel and all.” You glare as he starts giggling in amusement, “I’m serious, do it and you’re out.”

“I won’t, I won’t.” He says as he lifts his head up, “But I’m a little bored,” he pouts and draws circles over your thigh, “I already watched these episodesss.”

“I dunno do something. Go order food or find some in my fridge, I don’t know.” You sigh.

Jungkook doesn’t reply and instead nuzzles into you, “I have something else I can do in mind..” He trails off and slips his hand under your comforter to stroke your thigh.

You don’t say anything, instead you part your thighs for him as a silent ‘go on’. He takes the bait easily and slips under the comforter with a devious grin, “Jungkook– ow, don’t bite me you ass. Why did you do that?”

Instead of answering you he just reaches under for the waistband of your shorts, peeling them off alongside your panties in one go. You can feel his hot breath hovering over your pussy, his tongue dips low between your soft folds as he licks a stripe up your cunt.

He circles his tongue around your clit, swiping from side to side and front/back. It’s enough to have your knees buckling weakly as you reach over the comfort to place your hand where his head would be as you sighed in pleasure.

“Like you better when your mouth’s full.” You find yourself mumbling.

Jungkook grunts in affirmation, he wraps his arms around your and tugs your hips closer to his face. He’s literally buried in your soft cunt, nose poking at your clit while he licks over your slick lips, sucking on your soft fold with a pleased hum.

You push up with a low moan and angle your hips down so that he’s licking over your swollen clit. “Shit, jus’ like that,” you tilt your head back and close your eyes enjoying the sensation of his tongue.

He lays one hand flat over your pelvis and holds you down while he sucks on your clit feverishly. It sends your back arching off the bed from the sudden spark of pleasure. “Fuck..!” You hiss out when he engulfs your tiny bud between his lips and sucks.

Jungkook doesn’t disappoint. He slurps and licks like no tomorrow while he prods his fingers against your pussy. You’re literally scrambling to get a grip on him, your pathetic little moans and whines spurring him on as he finally slides his fingers deep.

“More, gimme more please,” you mewl.

You hear him shuffling around down there so you naturally take a peek out of curiosity. The sight has your mouth dropping in awe when you come across him fisting his cock from under the sheets while he eats you out like you’re the best meal ever.

“Coming,” you gasp softly as your fingers tangle themselves in his hair.

Jungkook sucks harder with a hint of teeth, he curls his fingers at the same time and fucks them right up against the roof of your cunt. It has you crying out his name and pushing his head away as your pussy clenches tight and then suddenly you’re gushing all over him.

“Jesus,” he whispers and covers your cunt with his hot mouth, licking up the entire mess you made all over yourself.

“Come here.” You dryly whisper after noticing he didn’t cum.

He obeys without hesitation, he knows what you want so he climbs up and kneels beside you with his weeping cock over your lips. “You sure? I don’t mind.” He murmurs.

“I want to.” You softly reply and part your lips, “Don’t want you to be gentle with me.. I can take it.” You murmur as you engulf the head of his cock slowly.

Jungkook hisses quietly and guides your head until your nose is meeting his groin. You gag around him with the saliva quickly building up in your mouth. He doesn’t mind though because he absolutely loves it when you slobber all over him.

“Don’t you look pretty with a mouth full of cock?” He grins teasingly despite being minutes away from coming, like he wasn’t edging himself before when he was eating your cunt.

You moan unabashedly as tears spring in your eyes. He doesn’t waste anymore time after that and begins fucking into your mouth unapologetically. He doesn’t even start off slow, he’s desperate to cum and you get it. You’re salivating at the thought of his cock filling your throat and leaving you sore.

He grips the headboard above to stable himself as he slides himself in and out of your mouth. Jungkook moans under his breath as he bucks his hips rather harshly, just listening to the sound of your gags and saliva dripping.

“So fuckin’ good,” he mutters, “you take it so good for me.”

You know he’s getting close when he starts getting quieter and instead puts his attention on his pleasure. The only noise around is the sound of your gagging and his labored breathing. You feel his cock start twitching and throbbing until he’s shouting from the pleasure and coming down your throat.

“Shit—stop, stop, stop.” He sighs as he gently pulls you off his cock, “Fuck.” He says after catching his breath.

Cleanup is fairly quiet, he helps you change the sheets and get dressed into comfier clothes before you’re both climbing back into the bed and sitting side by side, body to body. It feels all too real and suddenly realization is hitting you hard.

The silence is comfortable between you two, the scene feels a little familiar (you, him, a movie and your head on his shoulder) but you don’t comment because it makes you feel a little uncomfortable. Like before, Jungkook caresses his hand over your thigh gently with a comforting grip after.

“Why did we ever fall out?” You quietly pipe up, “Like where did it all go downhill?”

He stops in his tracks, he doesn’t look mad or upset that you brought it up out of the blue. He looks..at ease. “I don’t know, but I think it has to do a lot with the fact that we slowly grew out of each other? Kinda like we just lost the love and it wasn’t the same anymore, and instead of trying to fix it we just acted like our problems weren’t there.”

Jungkook calmly continues after taking in your reaction, “I love you don’t get me wrong, you’ve given me the best years but I just think we finally grew apart. Think about it—the fights, the breakups and make ups? We got to a point where we just didn’t care anymore.”

“I know, but it still doesn’t change the fact that I want you forever.” You softly admit.

“No you don’t y/n,” he replies equally softly, “you don’t want us—this, forever.”

It’s like a punch to your gut, why is he saying this? Why is acting like he knows what you want? You know what you want, and you want him. Is he trying to call you a liar? A saner part inside of your head eerily tells you he’s right, you don’t want that. You want happiness.

“I do know what I want actually, why are you thinking otherwise? You’re making a decision for me without even asking me how I feel about this?” You frown and push yourself off his shoulder.

“y/n,” Jungkook pauses briefly before shaking his head, “trust me I know you don’t want this. It’s not hard and it doesn’t take a fucking rocket scientist to see we’re not made for eachother. I’m sorry I need to tell you like this but whatever the fuck we had is something I sure as hell don’t want.”

It literally crushes your spirit because you knew what was coming, you KNEW he was going to tell you the cold hard truth sooner or later. It’s all everyone's been warning you about and now you have no room to cry about it. You had nobody but yourself to blame for your heartbreak. Not Jungkook, not Soyeon, not Yuqi.

Just you.

“You know what Jungkook, fuck you.” You fiercely whisper and push yourself off of him, “No actually, fuck you. You don’t get to tell me what I want and don’t want–”

“Because I know what the fuck I want and it’s not you! As fucking sad as it is y/n I can’t do this shit anymore,” he stands up too and begins hazardously dressing himself in his clothes again, “I know what I’ve done is shitty and I hope you can forgive me for it but I’m not willing to stick around anymore. Not after this.”

You watch in silence as he picks his things up off the floor and storms out. Not one word is spoken throughout the entire ordeal. Jungkook gets his shit and leaves like nothing ever happened, like you didn’t tell him to fuck himself and he didn’t respond by saying he didn’t want you.

When he finally leaves with a loud slam, your resolve crumbles and soft sniffles begin to fill the too empty apartment. You look around the room with red-rimmed eyes, now what are you gonna do?

You fucked up, again.

+

Jungkook doesn’t talk to you—doesn’t even text—for a total of two weeks and counting. You tried distracting yourself with work and your upcoming comeback but it was hard to focus. Not when your mind keeps going back to him and what happened that night.

“You don’t look so good, you sure you’re okay?” Your manager says with a look of concern on her face, “I can wrap things up and we can get you home if that’s what you want.”

“Please,” you find yourself nodding, “I’ll um let you know later on how I’m doing and stuff, for now I just wanna be alone.”

They understand you’re not doing well emotionally as of lately so they don’t question it when you request to be left alone. They simply wrap it up and call for your driver to take you home. A few staff send you off with tiny gifts and comforting hugs but none are enough to take away from the misery you’re feeling right now.

You make a quick stop at the store on your way home, you’ve never felt more dead in your entire life than right now. Even buying groceries proves to be a hard task but you somehow push through it and buy what you need.

The entire time you're there you think about Jungkook, should you call him to clear things up? Apologize for the shitty things you’ve ever said and for how you’ve acted towards him over the slightest inconveniences?

‘The phone’s right there,’ a little voice inside your head whispers, ‘just open up and click on his name, he’s right there.’

Do it, do it, do it, they chant.

Before you even realize it you’re dialing his number, the phone pressed tight against your ear as you wait with a bated breath for him to pick up. Three rings go by until finally Jungkook picks up with a quiet ‘hello’. “Hey,” you quietly mumble, “what are you doing?”

“Nothing much, I was cooking about a minute ago. You?” He sounds distant, like he’s catching up with an acquaintance.

“Cool, and nothing either, I just went to the store and bought a few things I needed.” You play with a strand of loose hair, suddenly finding that much more interesting to look at.

“That’s good.” He murmurs and it goes quiet after that.

Neither of you know what to say right now, you don’t even know where to begin. What can you say? Hey I’m sorry I told you to fuck yourself? I’m sorry for my shitty ass attitude? I’m sorry for being a bad girlfriend? There’s so much to say but you can’t find the words for it.

“Jungkook,” you hesitantly say after finding the courage to speak, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything, I know I fucked up over and over again but I want to let you know I’m sorry I treated you the way I did and for the things I said.”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything and for a second he scares you thinking that he hung up or something. “I know, and I’m sorry too for the way I acted and shit. I know we haven’t been the best but for what it’s worth none of this was ever your fault. Things just didn’t end up working out.”

You hate that this feels like a permanent goodbye, it must have really been the last straw for him the last time you spoke. You find yourself tearing up and there’s a heavy lump sitting in your throat. You don’t know whether you want to cry, scream, or run off.

“It’s just hard when I miss you this much,” you quietly reply despite the wobble in your voice.

“I know,” you hear him take a deep breath and before he can reply you hear it.

There’s a low shuffling noise in the back, at first you think nothing of it until you realize it’s a feminine voice asking Jungkook if he wants her to help clean up the mess.

Your heart rapidly beats in your chest, the pounding in your ears so loud you swear you feel like you’re going to have a heart attack with how fast it’s going. “Didn’t know you moved on already.”

“It’s not like that–”

“Then what is it like Jungkook? Because to me it sounds exactly what I’m imagining right now—don’t try and treat me like I’m fucking stupid.” You wipe your tears of frustration while pacing back and forth.

“Okay fine, you want the truth: I met someone and I’m getting to know them, I’m thinkin’ maybe she can make me happy too. Is that what you wanted to hear from me?” He snaps back.

“When.” You coldly demand, the anger you feel right now is astronomical.

Jungkook holds his breath for a few seconds, “A month ago.”

Your entire world stops then and there. So while you and Jungkook were doing these lovey dovey things and still seeing each other, he was already talking to someone new. All this and for what? He found someone new while still using you as an escape from reality (for fun really), and to know he was doing this while having someone on the side waiting?

It makes you sick to your stomach.

“D-Don’t you ever come near me. We’re done, so fucking done. How could you fucking do that to me? You knew how I fucking felt about all this and you went and pulled this? I hate you, I hate you.” You can’t even speak, it physically pains you to talk.

Through your sobs you manage to shakily hang up and head for your bedroom. You toss a bunch of clothes on the bed and drag your heavy suitcase out of the closet. You don’t know where you’re going, but at this point you’ll go anywhere if it means you can get away from this place.

All that’s left is the sounds of your sobs and clothes shuffling as you stuff them into your suitcase messily. You feel so alone and empty wondering what everyone else in the world is doing right now. Surely not getting their heart stomped on like you, right?

As you're finishing up with your closet, you hear the front door beep and buzz. No, no, no, he is not doing this right now you think while storming out to the living room. He’s already coming in as you’re stepping out.

“y/n–”

“What the fuck are you doing here? I told you to leave me the fuck alone!” You throw a vase in his direction watching him yell out in shock as he barely manages to dodge it.

“Fucking hell—calm down! You’re gonna hurt yourself!”

“And why do you care? You didn’t before so what’s fucking different now!” You wipe your face and stomp to your bedroom with Jungkook hot on your tail.

He tries to grab your arm but you rip yourself away from him in fury which makes him get the memo instantly, “I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay, I don’t want you to hurt yourself or do anything stupid.” He stops in his tracks when he sees the state your bedroom’s in.

“y/n..what are you doing?” He quietly asks, his doe eyes filled with surprise and a mix of fear.

You take a deep breath and hold it in for a couple of seconds, letting it out slowly when you feel calm enough to reply, “I’m leaving Jungkook, all this—I’m done. I had hopes that maybe we could solve things and make it work again but it looks like only one of us wanted this.” You smile sadly.

“I choose myself Jungkook, I did some petty shit and said dumb things and I’m sorry for it. Looking back on it, it was me who refused to move on. I was so hung up on making things work I just didn’t realize I was dragging you down and forcing you to be with me.”

Jungkook visibly deflates with hurt written all over his face, “I’m sorry too, I never meant to lead you on and if I did I’m so sorry for it y/n. You deserve someone who can make you happy, and I’m sorry that someone can’t be me.”

You stand across from each other in silence. Jungkook looks down at your luggage with his own sad smile, “Maybe..we could be friends?”

“No,” you softly reply and get back to packing, “we can’t be friends, but I’d like to pretend.”

“So this is goodbye then.” Jungkook’s got his own unshed tears ready to fall.

“Yeah, I guess so..”

He looks up at you and tearfully smiles, “Goodbye y/n.”

You match his smile with one of your own, “Bye, Jungkook.” Maybe in your next life you will both be happy. But not in this one.

For now, it’s only me and maybe that’s all I need.

+

One year later.

“It’s only gonna be for two weeks, you big baby. You’re acting like I won’t get on a plane and go see you.” You laugh softly and shake your head, “Besides, I thought you were taking me to the beach in LA?”

“I am! But I wanted you there with me,” Mingi looks at you with pursed lips, “wanted you to see me on stage.”

You can’t help but coo and squeeze his cheek, “You’re so cute, don’t worry I’ll make sure I don’t miss it.” He smiles happily and you can’t help but lean in for a smooch on the cheek.

“Oh wait, I saw a guy selling ice cream back there. Wait for me right here, I’ll be back.” Mingi heads back to all the food stalls leaving you there in front of this cafe.

You hum under your breath and check on your messages, replying to friends who slid up on your story asking if you were finally back. It felt good to be home after all that went down before, you really needed the break.

“Hold on, I got it, let me carry it for you.” You hear a familiar voice say which instantly has you turning around to look.

It’s Jungkook and he still looks the same as before minus the hair he’s cut short now and has it in an undercut. You feel weird seeing him again after all this time. Weird in a good way? You don’t know, but it isn’t bad either. You kinda don’t feel anything.

You curiously look over at his girlfriend(?), stopping in your tracks when you notice a pretty ring on her finger. It suits her. You look back up and come face to face with Jungkook who stands there in shock too.

There’s a million things you can say or do right now, but you don’t. In fact you’re happy for him.

“Did I take long?” Mingi suddenly pops up behind you holding two ice cream cones, “I got your favorite.” He grins foolishly.

You break away from Jungkook and look at Mingi, “Thanks, how sweet of you.” You grin and lean in to kiss his cheek again, “Ready to go? I’m kinda tired of being outside.” You complain softly.

Mingi lets you take the cones from his hands and instead wraps his arm around your waist leading you through the crowd of people. Your heart races as you two get closer to Jungkook and his fiancé. Just for a second you meet his eyes, and then you smile before turning your attention back to Mingi.

Jungkook smiles back and just like that, you move on with your lives.

My love, I won’t wait for your love.

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @frieschan @lilyflowerguk @sayokodiary @babycandy111 @looneybleus @ash07128 @gyukookswhore @rrosiitas

[sorryimananti-romantic]

The Leaders | Chapter II

"this is the underworld that no one escapes from."

masterlist

ot8!ateez x f!reader, mafia au

chapter warnings: drinking, smoking, illegal businesses, mentions of gangs, war/military and weapons, hongjoong is the designated asshole in this chapter

chapter wc: 10.9k

chapter synopsis: you learn more about ateez from your housemate, wendy, and from kihyun of mx pharmaceuticals who is also the crescent’s business partner. you get familiar with your new job at the crescent company’s main office and learn about their deal with secretary park. wanting to stop them from that harmful deal, you finally speak up only for the boss, hongjoong, to remind you that you are just a bookkeeper. 

prev chapter recap: an attack on the crescent bar prompts you, the bookkeeper of the crescent bar, to carry out yeosang’s order and flee with the contents of the safe. however, you have discovered a secret package which leads you to a confrontation with the underboss, park seonghwa, who has no choice but to kill you. to save yourself, you reveal that you possess some information about the elites that could be useful to them, and that you are willing to exchange this information for your life. that lands you a job at the crescent company’s main office and you have a rocky first day, getting to know the ins-and-outs of your new workplace and colleagues.

For the beginning of a new chapter of your life, which could take a very sinister turn, it sure was awfully sunny today, the pigeons on your window sill taking great joy in the way you would pause in the middle of getting ready and reconsider all your life choices so far. Their cheerful chirps were starting to annoy you and you couldn’t help but shoot deathly glares in their direction. 

It was your first official work day as the bookkeeper in the main office of the Crescent Company, and you were done getting ready– as ready as you could be with your heart threatening to burst out of your chest. It didn’t help that when you exited your room, you immediately had your housemate’s attention who let out a dramatic whistle at the sight of you.

“Woah. That’s quite a formal outfit for the bar,” Wendy said, stopping in the middle of stirring the pot, the fragrant scent of rosemary and chicken broth filling your nostrils. “Also… why are you still home?”

You turned to the full-length mirror in the living room, inspecting your outfit for the day– a pleated navy blue skirt that reached mid-calves paired with a blue tweed jacket, your feet clad in ivory kitten heels. Just the right outfit to make good first impressions, yet it was a struggle to ignore the urge to go back to your closet and restart the lengthy process of choosing another outfit.

“Uh…” you took a deep breath while tucking the stray strands of your hair back in the half-tied hairdo, bracing yourself for her reaction. “I may have gotten a new job at the Crescent Company.”

The room fell awfully silent and you turned to Wendy, finding her deadpan staring at you.

Odd.

“Something wrong?” You frowned in confusion. 

“The Crescent Company?” Wendy repeated and you nodded. It was strange, the soberness in her tone, when you were expecting enthusiastic theatrical reactions from her. “When?”

“Literally yesterday,” you turned your full attention to her, wondering if she was cross with you for not letting her know earlier. “I start working officially from today.”

“How did you get this job?” Wendy asked, finally doing something else other than assessing your form. She turned the stove off, setting the pot on the table where you joined her for breakfast.

“Well… one thing led to another. Some gang attacked the bar two nights ago and when I carried out my instructions– which were to get the contents of the safe and run– they decided… that I am good at my job and would do better in some other environment.”

“I heard about the attack, yes,” Wendy said, munching on a piece of bread. “But I thought it was a fight outside the bar, not an attack inside. Is that how you got these tiny scratches all over you?” You pursed your lips in answer and Wendy continued. “Are you sure this is the right job for you? Because let’s be real– we all know who Ateez is. You should be avoiding that gang– didn’t you want to lay low?”

Ateez. Known throughout all the eight sectors of Eden and its capital, the gang formed after the Battle of the Eight Hills and played a vital role in the rebuilding of Eden afterwards. Really, you wondered if they had done so much for Eden, why were they feared and labelled as a criminal organisation?

“I am laying low,” you sipped the broth as you said, “It’s just an office job– paperwork.”

“I don’t know, Luna,” she said, clearly worried. “I’m not sure about this.”

“Do you know something you’re not telling me?” You asked but Wendy kept a straight face which meant there was something. “In fact… refresh my memory a little since I wasn’t here when Ateez was at the peak of their career, but who is Ateez? What do they really do?”

Wendy took a deep breath as if contemplating opening her pandora of secrets for you but then she checked her wristwatch to your utter disappointment. “Next time or else we’ll both be late. Just… stay safe, will you?”

“Oh, I will. I keep the gun in my purse, you know,” you smirked and Wendy finally relaxed, smiling back. “See you tonight if you aren’t snoring by that time– my shift ends at the strike of midnight.”

“Heavens, that’s late,” Wendy winced. “What are you doing up so early then? You should have slept some more.”

You should have, but you had a little stop to make before you clocked in at midday at your workplace– the stop being at the office of MX Pharmaceuticals located in the heart of Sector 1 with all the other businesses and offices. It was only the Crescent Office which was situated right outside that hotspot, and you were starting to think that it was a calculated move on their part. With their status, they could be situated in the slums and still be flourishing– the leaders of Sector 1.

It was a bit strange to walk the streets of your block and not allow your muscle memory to take you in the direction of the Crescent Bar. It felt alleviating, even, to not cross the old lady on the pavement selling crocheted goods to make a living. Somehow, she always made you feel guilty about having the privilege of connections. You could very well have been sitting there at the corner of the road instead of her, selling your paintings or embroideries if Kihyun hadn’t helped you land a job when you came back to Eden from Wonderland just a few years ago.

Because your father always made sure you would never be in the spotlight. There was a reason he basically shipped you to Wonderland– though you often wondered if that was justification enough. He claimed that you could study more if you wished to while you looked after your aunt but really… you knew that he wanted to get rid of you because you found out his dark, dirty secrets– things you were never supposed to find out. It was a shame he couldn’t kill his own daughter and bury those secrets along with her. Maybe his humanity awakened when he thought about his children. 

You could spot the MX Office when you took a turn left into the busy, bustling street with corporate slaves ready to sign in for their daily dose of torture. To your demise, you were blending right in. You walked towards the office, which was a brick-coloured building just like the rest of the offices in this street. The guard at the front door recognised you and nodded in greeting, as did the receptionist and a few employees, aware that you had some sort of a relationship with their boss, though no one dared to ask the nature of it.

The boss, Kihyun, was a respectable figure in all of Eden as a powerful businessman and a former gang member. Each connection he made was for a reason, but you were not just a connection. You respected each other far too much to refer to each other as just a ‘connection’. 

You were being accompanied to Kihyun’s room when on the stairs, you encountered Hyungwon.

“Miss Jeon– what brings you here?” He asked. It had been a while since you saw the manager of MX Pharmaceuticals. He was usually found at one of the labs or warehouses that MX owned. “Good to see you.”

“Hope you’ve been well,” you smiled. “I’m here to see Kihyun.”

Hyungwon nodded at the assistant who left and you followed Hyungwon upstairs. “Kihyun just arrived. How has it been?”

“I’m doing good. I got a new job so I was going to tell him about that and discuss a few things.”

“Oh, that’s nice to hear,” Hyungwon knocked at Kihyun’s door before opening it for you. “I’ll send some tea. And you know that if you need anything, we’re here, right?”

You nodded, smiling earnestly at his reminder. “Thank you. Have a good day.”

You entered Kihyun’s room, closing the door behind you. His room was as neat as ever with a variety of indoor plants lining the huge windows that provided a view of Maddox Street. You walked past that window, drawing the cerulean curtains away and Kihyun tsk-ed at you.

“You’re back at it, eh?”

“You need someone who will pull the curtains open every day. I can’t keep doing that for you,” you grinned, joining him at his desk. He was clad in a navy button-down shirt, his hair combed back. “How have you been?”

He spread his arms in answer. “Right in front of you. As good as ever. But I’ve heard you are doing better lately.”

“Heard the news already?” You shook your head. “Once I find your informant, I’m gonna give them an earful.”

“We’re the Crescent’s business partners. I should know the happenings,” Kihyun said, waiting for the assistant to leave the tea for you before continuing. “Tell me… how did it happen?”

“Let’s say I passed a trust test,” you said, adding a sugar in your tea and two in his, just as he liked. “I’m the Crescent’s bookkeeper now.”

“That must not have been easy.”

“Actually, yes,” you took a sip of the black tea. “I almost got killed. I had to win their favour.”

“And how did you do that?” Kihyun frowned.

“I played a few cards,” you admitted and he groaned in disbelief. “It was that or I die.”

“They would not have killed you–”

“They knew we were acquainted, and they were ready to kill me,” you interjected. “I only told them that I’m aware of Assemblyman General Wi’s artefact gallery.”

“Luna,” Kihyun leaned forward, clasping his hands. “You know the game you are playing right now is a dangerous one–”

“I know that I have to keep my identity hidden, and I’m sure they only know what’s on the documents–”

“Let me finish,” Kihyun said in a low voice and you slumped back. “It’s not just about your identity. You know who they are, don’t you? Ateez? They were once a gang, and they always play dirty.”

“So were you, Kihyun,” you reminded him. “Back in your early days, before my father took you under his wing.”

Kihyun clenched his jaw– he did not need to be reminded of his ugly past. “We were not children of war when we were a gang, Luna. The Crescents– Ateez– they are children of war. They served the army when they should have been fooling around with other kids their age or studying. A nineteen year old Kim Hongjoong became a well-known military strategist in the Battle of the Eight Hills. Another nineteen year old Park Seonghwa became a sniper and a medic– a god awful combination, don’t you think? And an eighteen year old Jeong Yunho became an honoured lieutenant colonel, for heaven’s sake. Those are the people you have involved yourself with.”

That was the first time you heard about their achievements during the war and you realised with a creeping dread that Kihyun might be right about this.

“Us? We were just a street gang, Luna. We were kids who rebelled, who got lucky because your father, a politician, saw potential in us and hired us as his informants. Ateez are different, and it would do you better if you stay aware of them.”

You took a deep breath. “Do you think they will dig into my past?”

“I can’t promise they won’t,” Kihyun relaxed, finally smiling and drinking his tea. “But I’ll see if I can do something. Just make sure to stay in the shadows.”

“Until it’s time,” you reminded him.

His expressions didn’t change. “Still conjuring up revenge plans?”

“You know how stubborn I am,” you traced the gold outline on the cup. “I cannot forgive my father for taking my identity and shipping me to Wonderland as if I meant nothing to him.”

“I’m sure you mean something to him. You are his daughter, after all.”

“I’m sure I don’t, and I don’t need him,” you said, looking at the boss of MX. “You are my family if I ever had one, Kihyun. I am in your debt for everything that you have done for me.”

“Nonsense,” he waved his hand and you stifled a smile at the way he always got a little shy when you called him family or brother. “You don’t owe me anything. I would have done that for anyone.”

“You risked your business and your life for me. You don’t do that for just anyone,” you concluded and he smiled in answer. It was a truth that he could not deny. “You can call it whatever you want, but let me feel about it however I want too.”

“I can see how you might have talked them out of killing you, you stubborn brat,” Kihyun said, laughing. He stared into the distance, taking a few moments to think. “I heard you will be answering to Park Seonghwa and Jeong Yunho. That worries me.”

“It is just work,” you told him, though you were wholly aware that it was not just work. “You don’t need to worry too much.”

After a busy midday shift at the Crescent Office with Eunha and Jihoon, you decided to pay a visit to the Crescent Bar– you were free for the rest of the afternoon and could squeeze in a lunch with your friends. Plus, you were not sure that you could do the night shift without some liquid courage in your system. 

The bar was as lively as it could be during day hours, with people popping in from work to get a drink or a meal. The employees– your old coworkers– warmly welcomed you and you went to sit at the counter with Eunbi and Jeonghan, just like the old times.

“How has it been without me?” You teased Eunbi who wrapped her arms loosely around your waist, snuggling beside you. 

“Boring. Jeonghan is always pretending to sleep so I can’t really talk to anyone anymore.”

“I am actually asleep,” Jeonghan raised his hand as a sign that he was alive. He looked like a corpse, actually, if you could put it nicely. Eunbi gave you a pointed look.

“Got a new bookkeeper yet?”

“Not yet,” she said, going back to the cash register when she saw a customer approach. You walked to the staff room, catching up with Yuju who ordered your favourite grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch with Black Shadow– probably the best wine you had tasted in your life, if you were objective. You knew there was a backstory to how Ateez made that wine their staple, but you figured you would hear about it someday later. For now, you had another purpose that led you to Yeosang’s office.

Yeosang opened the door when you knocked, blinking in surprise. “Aren’t you supposed to be at the main office?”

“Good evening? How have you been doing? How has work been?” You glared at him. “I’m good, thank you for asking.”

Yeosang snickered, letting you in and you took the seat in front of him. You sighed deeply, folding your arms. “I kind of miss this, I won’t lie. I feel like an outsider there, and it’s only my first day. Shift doesn’t start for another hour, by the way.”

“Would you like a drink?” He offered and you shook your head, telling him you just had lunch. “Well, Miss y/n. How can I help you today?”

You passed him the side-eye. “It’s still Luna for you. And I wanted to ask you a few things that I really should have asked before.”

“Ah… is it time for those questions?” Yeosang relaxed back, resting his hands behind his head, his muscles poking out from under the ivory dress shirt. You watched him for a moment, wondering what his accomplishments during the war were. Could he be holding a scary title as well, or was it something worse?

“Yes. You can’t blame me for being curious after the stunt the underboss pulled that night. True to your name, Ateez.”

It was the first time you ever referred to them with their gang name and he only watched you in silence, waiting for you to continue. It irked you that his expressions gave away nothing. Trained to give away nothing, a distant voice in your mind said. 

“Just tell me if there’s anything I need to know for now. I’m reporting directly to Mr. Park and… Mr. Jeong. I really don’t want to make a mistake.”

“You weren’t worried when you started working under me.”

“That’s because… you are you,” you tried to explain, ignoring the faint ache in your heart. “You don’t go around wearing formal suits and looking down on people and being… weird.”

“We don’t look down on people,” Yeosang sighed, though he was smiling at your admission. “Was Yunho weird towards you? What did he do now?”

“How did you– he didn’t do anything,” you told him. It was uncanny how well they knew each other. “I just want you to tell me if there’s something I should be aware of so I don’t make a mistake.”

Yeosang thought it was strange that you were asking such a question. He wished he could ask you what exactly you meant. Just what mistakes were you so afraid to make? Why did you always have to be cautious and walk on eggshells, even around him, even when you claimed that you were comfortable with him?

“I don’t think that you realise that Yunho is the only one of us who will forgive you even if you betray us in the worst possible way– he would still try to understand your reasons.”

Your eyes went a little wide as you let his words sink in. “Lieutenant Colonel Jeong Yunho… is forgiving?”

“I don’t know what you’ve heard about us,” Yeosang leaned forward, speaking gently. “But I can promise you that it’s not the entire truth. We are more than what you people make us to be, if you care to look past the ranks and titles.”

You didn’t understand what he meant by that, and you were too scared to ask. You couldn’t stop thinking about his admission about Yunho. You really couldn’t see it– he always looked so strict, in the traditional sense. Even when he had a hint of a smile on his lips last night, you couldn’t envision him to be someone who could sympathise with the ugliness of the people who were driven into the corner. Perhaps, because Yeosang was his friend, he was able to look past everything and see the lieutenant’s true, unmarred nature, but to you…

To you, he was Lieutenant Colonel Jeong Yunho. And you intended to keep it that way, for everyone’s sake.

Later, when you were at work and taking a breather, having just finished recording the day’s transactions, you reminded yourself that your relationship with Yeosang had turned too casual. Sure, it was the way he was with everyone at the bar– almost everyone. It was different with you, whether you liked it or not. Even though you had wanted to keep a distance from Yeosang, you just couldn’t. After all, you went to him right after hearing about their old gang days. 

You made a mental note to learn more about Ateez and the Crescent Company, and to learn about the extent of their involvement in Eden’s business world. You needed any information you could get your hands on, every detail whether true or not. If you were going to play this game and use them for your goal, you needed to know that the Crescents were not involved with your father and his business in any way. 

You needed to know if what they did was truly moral and right. And if you needed to sneak into places where you weren’t meant to go and possibly risk your life again… you would. 

It took you about a week to fully get the hang of things at the office. While Jihoon was still being an arse– at this point, you were starting to consider that it might be a part of his personality– he never refused to guide you or help you when you were stuck. Eunha was just as helpful and you were actually starting to like her a little. She wasn’t very talkative but considering that she was able to make Jihoon laugh… you were tempted to take pointers from her. Jihoon had worked the longest here and you needed to crack him to get him to talk.

In that one week, you got a chance to go into Mr. Jeong’s room twice, when he was not present to take the report from you himself. You made it quick– unlock the room, unlock the cupboard and place the report inside, look around if you had a few seconds and get the hell out. It was too soon to make a mistake so you only dared to make note of what the office looked like. There wasn’t much to it anyway– just the usual workspace, and it frustrated you that his workspace gave away nothing about him.

Mr. Jeong, you noted, usually came to the office during your shift at the late hours of night, presumably after dinner. You learned that Kim Hongjoong was out of station for some business dealing which was why the office was mostly empty, but also that this was where they usually gathered to meet up and discuss things. This office was sort of a base and if not here, they would be at the bar, though they generally avoided it because of obvious reasons. There was no saying when a drunkard fool, or two, would dare to interrupt them.

Yunho usually locked himself inside his office (Eunha was very suspicious that he usually napped there, claiming to have heard light snores sometimes) and Seonghwa came by twice that week, greeting you and asking if you were adjusting well. Neither of them had interacted with you much during the week but…

You recalled two nights ago when Yunho came back to the office just as it was closing time. You handed him the report and he called you inside his office to discuss a few things. When he was going over the report, he asked you if you had any problems with work recently.

“None at all,” you assured him. “It is manageable.”

He flicked through the pages, the white sleeves of his shirt rolled up over his sleeves, baring his veiny arms. You resisted the urge to trace all those veins on his arms– Jeong Yunho was one handsome man. It didn’t help that he had such beautiful hands either. Why were you assigned to submit him the reports every night? What was this new form of torture?

He caught you staring at his hands but he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he finished checking the report and shut the folder, running his hands over the cover once before clearing his throat to get your attention. You met his stare, pretending that you had not been ogling at his hands and arms– or at least, fake confidence that you were normal about it. 

“You were right about the artefact gallery,” Yunho said and you straightened. “It is indeed a money-laundering business. He is an assemblyman, a potential presidential candidate and, well, that’s a bad look for him with the elections right around the corner. How did you know when even his enemies aren’t aware of this information? And more importantly… do you want us to do something about it?”

“How I know does not matter,” you shook your head, adamant to not tell them your source. “It is just a piece of information that might be useful to you later. I am aware that your leader has been well involved with politicians– for connections, to secure deals. If you ever need leverage over General Wi, here is what you can use.”

Yunho took a deep breath at your response. You watched him scan you slowly, his eyes unreadable. “Is your source Yoo Kihyun of MX Pharmaceuticals?”

You looked down to hide your smile. “I have heard that you are well acquainted with him. He was more of a recipient than a source until a few years ago. The tables have turned now, but we still share information, and I was told that you could be trusted with the information I have. Is that still true?” 

He rubbed his chin in thought. “That depends on how useful the information you possess is. And it also depends on how loyal you are.”

“I am loyal to anyone who is loyal to me,” you said with a certainty that surprised him. “I know what it is like to be betrayed by blood and water both. To me, loyalty is the highest virtue.”

“Higher than morality?” He asked with a certain nonchalance, perhaps expecting to pin you in a corner, but…

“And what is morality, in this era?” You mused. “I’m sure you ask that question yourself often… Lieutenant Jeong.”

You seemed to have hit the nail because his gaze darkened. Perhaps, you should not have reminded him of his military rank, but to be Eden’s honoured lieutenant colonel and possess some fair morals? It didn’t add up even after Yeosang had said all the good things about him.

“I know what my morals are, Miss Jeon,” Yunho leaned forwards, locking his eyes with you and you wish some of his dark tendrils hid a bit of his eyes because that gaze was damning. “Do you? Or do you like to make yourself believe that you are the only virtuous one in the room?”

Maybe it was a dangerous game you were playing but you mirrored his position, your clasped hands almost brushing his as you said, “Oh, I have the lowest moral standards. In order to survive in Eden, especially when you’re on your own… you can’t go around possessing such foolish things as virtue, isn’t that so?”

Yunho looked down at your clasped hands, spotting the fading scar that ran along your thumb down to your wrist– one that you had gotten the night you lost everything. 

And then he ran a finger across it, ever so slowly, sending a trail of fire in its wake before getting up and wearing his coat, indicating that the meeting was over.

Damn him. Damn him and his stupid, beautiful hands–

“Goodnight, Luna,” he said in a low voice and you got up as well, gathering your wits before exiting the room.

“Goodnight… Mr. Jeong.”

And that had been the last time you saw him. It was Mr. Park who took the reports from you the day after, and last night you locked the office yourself about half an hour after midnight– you did not know why you stayed waiting for somebody to show up, but you felt a bit stupid afterwards. You should have clocked out on time.

You did not know why you waited.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you almost did not hear the sound of footsteps skittering in the direction of the office rooms. You looked up, gaping at what had to be a fifteen year old considering his scrawny appearance, moving not towards Yunho’s office but Kim Hongjoong’s. You frowned– how did he get past the guard?

“Oi,” you called but when he proceeded to knock at the boss’ door, you decided you had enough and slammed a hand on the desk to get his attention. “Oi, kid!”

“Is the Captain not inside?” he turned to look at you, looking as surprised to see you as you were. “Who are you?”

“Who are you?” you beckoned him to come nearer and he obeyed this time. “How did you get in?”

“I have something the Captain might like,” he grinned. “Still not back from his little trip to Edenary?”

So that’s where he was. The Capital of Eden, the land of the elites. “Uh… nope. Why you calling him ‘the Captain’?”

“Because that’s who he is?” He shook his head in disapproval. “New here?”

You scoffed in disbelief. “Kid, if you don’t tell me who you are, I’m going to have to escort you out.”

“No need, I’ll see myself out,” he winked at you and you laughed this time. You had to admit he was kind of cute for a kid even though you wanted to smack him on his head. You didn’t recall seeing him on the streets– his loose flannel shirt and newsboy cap was a look you thought you would have remembered. “I’m Jaemin, the informant. I answer directly to the Captain, so don’t even think about asking me what this was about.”

“You could still tell me, it could be our little secret,” you smirked but he shook his head. You stuck your tongue out at him. “Alright then. He’s supposed to come back tomorrow, I think. Should I let him know some kid was looking for him?”

Jaemin narrowed his eyes. “You haven’t met him yet, have you?”

“No,” you said. “Why?”

Jaemin only smiled condescendingly in answer. “You’ll find out. No need to tell him, I’ll be back soon.”

With that, the kid disappeared downstairs, leaving you wondering why he called the boss ‘the Captain’. It didn’t refer to his military rank because you knew that he was an honoured military strategist and colonel. You recently heard from Wendy that he had played a vital role towards the end of the war before the treaty between Eden and Halaland was signed. At such a young age, it was impressive. He was only a year older than you so he must have been about twenty when he earned that honour.

You distantly wondered if you ever came across him during the war. You had volunteered as a medical assistant– almost a nurse– in the latter half of the war. You had spent two whole years training medically and assisting the doctors and nurses. There weren’t many people in Eden so you might have encountered one of the Ateez men there, though you weren’t sure if you would recognise each other now. 

Moments later, you heard another pair of footsteps coming, this time familiar. Mr. Park, dressed in his usual black three-piece suit, met your gaze and sent a warm smile in your direction before he approached you.

“How are we doing tonight, Luna?”

“Good, Mr. Park. How about you?” You asked, taking tonight’s report and following him to Yunho’s office. “Did you perhaps see a kid leaving the building?”

Seonghwa chuckled at that. “You might find it hard to believe but that kid has saved lives with the information he shares.”

So the kid had not lied. “Impressive.”

Seonghwa waited until you took the seat in front of him. “He is like a stray cat who has marked us as his owners. We cannot take him in– he is too young, and he does not need to share the same fate the rest of us did, yeah? But he is a kid that nobody notices, and he uses that to his advantage. Next time you see him, ask him how he struck a deal with his ‘captain’.”

You laughed softly at that. “I will.”

Seonghwa nodded and started skimming through the reports. You told him that the new batch of liquor– specifically Black Shadow– had successfully been shipped to Mist Island. The shipment of their latest copper bullets was on the way too. You were surprised when you first found out that Mist Island was willing to trade weapons for liquor. Mist Island had a strict liquor import ban so the smuggling was being done secretly from both sides. It was impressive what money could buy.

Silence, Jihoon had told you one day when he was in a good mood. Silence of the police force.

You still hadn’t figured out what exactly they were doing with the weapons– you were aware that a lot of their money was being used in their business partnership with Pledis Manufacturers who were producers of machine parts. Your best guess was that they were involved in the weapons business and doing something undercover. You couldn’t question anyone about that yet. It was too soon.

“Good job, tonight,” Seonghwa said his usual words but this time, he did not dismiss you. Instead, he rested his back on the chair to look at you. “There are a few questions about your background that I must ask you before our boss arrives tomorrow, Luna. I’m hoping you will cooperate.”

There it was. They must have been done with the background check now. You wondered how much they found. “As best as I can while protecting myself, I will.”

Seonghwa smiled at that. “It’s not that I don’t trust you. Neither is it that I trust you already– Yeosang did, but that was different. You are now involved in the heart of the business that the Crescent Company does, so I have to make sure you’re suitable for this job, right?”

You were glad it was Mr. Park who was asking you these questions right now. Something about his presence was utterly calming and you could relax a little while talking to him. If you were objective, you could say that perhaps, it was his strategy to get you to lower your guard. But still… he was always soft spoken and kind. That did not change. 

“I understand, Mr. Park,” you assured him. 

“I could not find the records of your family… Miss Jeon,” he emphasised at your surname and you nodded. “You’re not a Jeon, are you?”

“It is a surname I borrowed around the time of the war, but I can assure you that I am from Eden. I was born here and have lived here all my life, at the Sector 1 border… save for a few years that I was not here.” Almost the truth. You had lived in Edenary, at the outskirts that met with Sector 1.

“And where were you? Where did you go in 1963?”

You exhaled. “Wonderland, to look after my sick aunt and get some further education.”

“Where, in Wonderland? Can I confirm that?” Seonghwa asked.

“The capital, Wonder City” you told him. “I’m not related to that aunt. She’s just an acquaintance who was willing to take me in. I looked after her and she gave me the financial help I needed.”

“Financial help,” Seonghwa repeated, glancing at your pearl ring that you always wore. He had an eye for things, and he knew that the pearl could not be in the hands of someone who was struggling financially. You could not have worn it so proudly if you had stolen it, so was it a family ring? A normal middle-class family could not afford such a pearl.

Just who were you?

“Yes,” you confirmed, willing him to trust you. “I might be wearing a pearl from Maddox & Co., Mr. Park, but that does not mean that I was showered in luxuries all my life. You must have found out that I was desperate for a job when I came back in 1966.”

Seonghwa nodded, swiping his hair back and exhaling. “Alright, I’ll let it be for now. You only need to tell us if you are related in any way to our rival gangs or the Sirens Rebel Party.”

“I am not your enemy,” you confirmed. “I cannot be acquainted with Yoo KIhyun and be in cahoots with any of your enemies. You have the same rivals.”

“Today’s friend is tomorrow’s rival,” Seonghwa mused. “Today’s enemy might be tomorrow’s lifesaver.”

“Then it is up to you, whatever you want me to be,” you smirked. “Rival or friend.”

Seonghwa nodded in thought, a bit amused, proceeding to pour you both some wine. While he downed it in one gulp, you sipped on it slowly, anticipating his next move.

“Do you perhaps have another tip for us?” Seonghwa raised a brow, amused.

“I might have, regarding your latest dealings with General Wi, but I will wait until both sides are clear.”

“Good,” Seonghwa shut the folder in conclusion. “I will take the leap of trust in you, Luna. Maybe you can do the same for us?”

“For you… yes, I can,” you told him. “I have one favour to ask, though.”

“Another one, already?” Seonghwa teased.

“You have a meeting scheduled with Secretary Park Byung Eun on the 14th, right?” You asked, the name leaving the most bitter taste in your mouth.

“President Lee’s secretary, yes,” Seonghwa nodded. “Do you know him?”

“Everyone knows him,” you said. While he was the President's current secretary, his name was well-known before that as one of the most successful businessmen in Eden. “You must be meeting because of a potential pharma-collaboration?”

“That’s right,” Seonghwa frowned, anticipating what was next.

You took a deep breath. “Do not reveal all your cards to that man. Do not let them know what you are up to.”

“Is that your way of telling us to be careful?” Seonghwa snorted. “We never show all our cards in the first meeting, Luna.”

“Neither do they,” you warned him and his smile fell. “Secretary Park’s team has a penchant for tricking you into deals. I’m just asking you to think this deal through. Whatever they are offering you won’t be very beneficial in the long run.”

“And how do you know that?”

“That doesn’t matter,” you told him. “If you need sources, or funds, you don’t need to rely on the Secretary Park.”

“You don’t know what business we conduct here, Luna–”

“I don’t need to know to warn you,” you insisted, feeling that tight knot of frustration build up in the back of your throat now. “I’m only asking you to think this through and take my words into consideration.”

“Your words, Miss Jeon, lack credibility right now,” he stated in a finalising tone, a pang of hurt shooting through your chest for a moment. He was right, though. They had no reason to trust you and to them, you must be seeming like someone who was looking to jeopardise their deal. “If you really want us to take you seriously, you would have to start giving us more.”

“I cannot give you more if I don’t know what you will do with the information,” you told him, sighing deeply. “Forget it, just… can you please let me know what you will be gaining and what you will be losing after your meeting with Secretary Park?”

“You’re assuming we will lose something,” Seonghwa noted. You didn’t answer and Seonghwa scanned your face, almost detecting fear in your eyes. Just what were you so scared of? “Is there any way you can trust me and tell me what this is about?”

“Not so soon, no, sorry,” you smiled sadly. You wanted to trust that man, you wanted to trust someone, anyone. “I don’t know what I’m waiting for, if I have to be honest. I’m probably asking too much considering that I am a mere bookkeeper.”

“We may have ranks here but we’re all equal, in the end,” Seonghwa said and his words tugged at your heart. There was rarely anyone who didn’t bring rank into everything. “I know you have no reasons to trust us either. Let’s work through our differences first before we make such demands, alright?”

You smiled at him and got up to leave. He followed, locking the doors and you both exited the building together. You shivered when the chilly night wind hit you. 

“The weather is getting colder. Bring a jacket or a scarf next time, will you?” Seonghwa said and you nodded. “Goodnight, Luna. I hope we are able to overcome all that is keeping us from mutual trust.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Park. Thank you for taking my words into consideration.”

He nodded, patting your back affectionately before you separated ways. That night, when you went home, you found Wendy getting ready to go to sleep. You didn’t get much of a chance to talk to her the whole week, considering your conflicting schedules, but you needed some answers right now so you sat at her bedside and she groaned in defeat.

“You need to tell me every detail, every rumour you’ve heard or any information you have on Ateez and what they do. Now.”

It was quite the busy day at the Crescent Office today. 

During the midday slot, you were packed with the new reports you had to make regarding the recent trade dealings with Mist Island, and you also needed to compile a transaction history before the Crescents were going to finalise their new deal with Utopia– both dealings happening undercover. You realised just how much work this job was– you had to create a pretty seamless legal report that was going to be used officially and make it seem like all their money was being circulated in their manufacturing business or the liquor business.

Seonghwa and San arrived when your shift was about to end. San waved at you, promising to catch up later and Eunha looked at you with a scandalous smile.

“Do you know the Choi San?”

“I literally worked at the Crescent Bar, Eunha,” you laughed. “I had to work with him.”

“He’s never waved at me like that. I’ve been here for a decade,” Eunha pouted. 

“Maybe you need to work as a cashier at the Crescent Bar in order to earn that privilege,” you told her, though you felt a bit pleased to hear that San had formal relations with the staff here.

Why were you pleased to hear that? You wondered but not long enough to make sense of it, soon getting caught up in more work. 

You went home after your midday shift, hoping to get some rest before your night shift because you knew it was going to be packed. You had no idea when the boss was supposed to come to office but you just hoped you would go unnoticed today– you had far too many thoughts that needed some sorting from everything Wendy told you last night– another reason you wanted to get some rest because her words kept you awake for the most part of the night. 

You made sure to dress properly today though, in any case. The weather was starting to get a bit chilly– summers were usually chilly in Eden. You wore a grey plaid suit that you kept for days like these, when you needed to make a good impression. You had fond memories with the two-piece– it was the first gift Wendy got you and it was more than she should have done, but she insisted she earned enough to buy gifts like these for the few friends she had. That made you wonder why she lived in a lousy shared apartment. You knew that her actual residence was in Sector 8 and she sometimes joked about how she lived here because it was ‘convenient’.

You wore white net gloves over your hands before going out, donning a matching grey hat. Eunha noted the new additions to your outfit and whistled as she shut her registers, groaning in satisfaction when she stretched her back.

“You did right with the gloves, but it’s a shame the boss isn’t here to appreciate them.”

“Eunha,” you glared at her and she giggled. She had warmed up to you– a bit too much, if you had to say, because she made jokes and teasing remarks like these often now that she was comfortable with you. You took off the gloves and spread them on your desk, grinning at her.

“I think they look pretty good from here too.”

You both shared a grin at that and Eunha wore her overcoat, saluting mockingly before leaving. Just before she was about to go downstairs, she turned in your direction, her doe eyes gleaming.  “Luna!”

“What now?”

“If you see the boss… don’t take his words to heart,” she said. “He may sound like a complete arse but he cares for all of us.”

“It can’t be any worse than Jihoon, can it?” You joked.

Eunha was right, though. At around 10 pm, you finally heard a few sets of footsteps ascend up the stairs and you took a deep breath, fixing your gaze on the stairs. To get to his office, the boss would have to walk past you so you fixed your half tied hair and arranged your desk a bit. Yunho’s head was the first to pop up, followed by an unfamiliar man and Seonghwa. They went inside Yunho’s room first, absorbed in heated discussion and you took a deep breath.

It was clear as day who Kim Hongjoong was. If it was not his appearance that betrayed him– dressed in a luxurious three-piece suit with the chain of a golden pocket watch visible, dark brown curls falling stylishly over his forehead– it was his unmistakable aura, the way he carried himself and his confidence. You felt it even if what you got was only a glimpse. 

A few minutes later, the trio popped out of Yunho’s room to go into Hongjoong’s room. You continued scribbling this time. You were going to remain in the shadows and go unnoticed–

“Get me the tax files,” the boss said. “I will personally make sure everything is seamless because I cannot have anyone messing it up– ah. Who is this again?”

Seonghwa cleared his throat. “Miss Jeon y/n. The bookkeeper– I thought Yunho told you already?”

Yunho looked guiltily at Seonghwa and you stood up in greeting, meeting the boss’s sharp eyes and internally gasping because oh, good heavens. He was inexplicably gorgeous–

“Good evening, Mr. Kim. If you need the tax files, I can get them for you.”

Hongjoong’s eyes betrayed him for just a second as he scanned your form, finding something oddly familiar about you. But his steel expressions returned and he shrugged lightly. “Yeah, well. I’ll have Yunho deal with that. You can get back to work.”

With that, he went towards his office and only waited a moment for the others to follow before he shut the door.

What a snob, you thought. His new bookkeeper and he didn’t even acknowledge you. Had Seonghwa and Yunho really not told him about you, or was he above these meagre details? You were aware that you would have to work with the boss now that he was back, but… how? 

Later, you found yourself at the Crescent Bar instead of your room. Perhaps, here you could get something that would make the bitter aftertaste in your mouth after tonight’s shift seem like nothing. Eunbi’s shift was over so you just found an empty spot in the corner and instructed one of your old colleagues to get you some Black Shadow and to make sure no one would bother you. He gave you a thumbs-up and a few minutes later, you were sipping at the rich drink while recalling the events of today.

Kim Hongjoong. Ateez’s boss, the brains behind the entity of the Crescent Company. A force to be reckoned with. A trickster, a manipulator, a true businessman, you had heard a while ago from the mouth of the elites who came here to drink. A man of his principles, Wendy had told you last night. He was rigid with his principles and that was what got him so far. You supposed he had to be all of that in order to survive after coming back from the war. 

Wendy said she wasn’t worried that you were working with him– at some point in this small sector, everyone had or would encounter him at least once in his life, directly or indirectly. However, she was worried that you would catch his eye, because according to her, you did not want to be involved with him personally in any way. He was a calculating and ruthless businessman with an ambition, and according to Wendy, that was something you were better off staying away from.

You considered everything you knew about the Crescent Company now that it had been a week working with them. They had partnered with Pledis Manufacturers to produce machine parts but you now knew that it was an undercover business for their weapons assembling. They had recently signed a new deal with Utopia to export these weapons in exchange for the Utopian wine– Black Shadow–  which was a trademark of the Crescent Bar. 

And it was Mist Island that provided the Crescents with the bullets and some metal for weapons production in exchange for Eden wine. It truly was a well-thought out business.

But that could not be all. You still did not know what the small packet– the powdery thing that got you here– was. Was it just a drug they used for pleasure purposes? You had never seen them in such a state, nor did the Crescent Bar tolerate druggies, though deals happened there, just like at any other bar. Nobody seemed to talk about it, there was no record of such an object being traded or produced– so what was it? Why had they almost killed you when they learned that you saw it?

And if it was a drug, why did they need to make a business deal with Secretary Park Byung Eun and have him fund MX Pharmaceuticals, of which they owned shares of? Kihyun knew that Secretary Park was not a man you should involve yourself with, so was he not aware of this new venture or was he turning a blind eye to it because they needed Secretary Park? Why would they need him of all the people in this world? 

“If you glare at your glass any longer, it will shatter,” a familiar voice said and you looked up, mouth parting in surprise.

“San!” You got up, straightening your clothes. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh, I literally own this bar?” San chuckled, noticing the almost empty bottle. 

“I mean, here here,” you pointed at your table. “I was just… drinking, as you can already see.”

“Long day?”

“Kind of,” you nodded. 

“Can I join you then? I’ve had a long day too.”

“Sure,” you said and he settled down in front of you, tossing his jacket on the other chair, now in a half sleeve black shirt. You poured the drink for him and he swirled it a few times before downing it in one gulp. You filled his glass again and motioned one of the waiters to get you a new one. 

It felt a little strange to have him seated like this in front of you. Sure, you had shared drinks countless times, but that was when you worked here and were serving him. There was also a shift in your interactions ever since that fateful night at the bar– somehow, that had turned your conversations more casual. He caught you staring at him but he didn’t comment on it.

“I’m assuming you met Hongjoong?” San asked and you exhaled, making him snicker. “What?”

“He’s… definitely the boss,” you laughed shortly. “He scanned me once and was like, okay, time to move on.”

“That’s him,” San laughed. “But that little scan he does means that he has memorised who you are and won’t forget. He’s got quite the memory.”

“I would expect nothing less, but San,” you sighed. “I miss being here. Even though I acted all professional here for the sake of formalities, it wasn’t ever suffocating being here.”

San frowned at your admission. “Do you not like where you are now?”

“It’s not that,” you shook your head. “I like the new job. It’s testing my capabilities, and I like challenges. It’s just that… you aren’t there. Yeosang isn’t there. You both are Crescents too. You both are also Ateez, so… how are you two so different from the rest?”

A smile creeped up on San’s lips and your heart did a little somersault– you hadn’t forgotten how handsome he was, but it had certainly been a while since you admired his charms. “Just say you miss us and move on, Luna.”

You laughed at that and San joined, the two of you chuckling for a few moments. “Yeah, I kind of miss being here and reporting all the gossip to you,” you said. “I miss working in silence with Yeosang too– don’t tell him I said that. It’ll get to his head.”

“I won’t,” he grinned. “Shall I tell you the gossip?”

“Oh, please, I’ve been starving,” you said.

About an hour passed over gossip and drinks, switching from wine to plain soda. San told you the latest happenings of the area– they had a little fight with Chan’s gang and had settled the matter about the attack on the Crescent Bar, making them pay for the damages. Yuju had gone to different bars to do a survey of what was trendy and come up with nothing, and you joked about how she was only good at doing what she knew– managing the staff, something she was an expert at. San said he would be sending Jeonghan and Mingyu next– perhaps, they would come up with a better report. 

It was the first time you talked to San as a friend, and though you had always found it quite easy to talk to him, you liked that just like Yeosang, he didn’t make it feel like there was a distinction between you two. Perhaps, you wondered, it was because of the nature of your work- after all, you couldn’t be too formal in a place like a bar. Maybe if there was no Crescent Bar, you really would have found San intimidating and unapproachable, just like people claimed he was. You still couldn’t believe them– not when he had the softest gaze when he paid attention to you, not when his eyes curved into moons when he smiled or laughed, and certainly not when he whined like just another adult with problems. 

When you checked the time on your wristwatch, you whistled– it was almost 2 in the morning. “Well. Time flies.”

“The night is still young, but we’ve both got to get up early, don’t we?”

“We sure do,” you nodded. “Well, this has been… a pleasure, San.”

“Likewise,” he propped his chin on his hand as he looked at you. “We should do this again.”

“Complaining about work?” You laughed. “Complaining about my bosses slash your friends?”

“Oh, so when you do it, it’s complaining, but when I do it, it’s whining? Noted,” San shook his head in disappointment and you grinned. “Can I tell you something, Luna?”

“Sure.”

“The hyungs– Yunho, Seonghwa and Hongjoong… they’re just like me and Yeosang. You just don’t know them yet.”

You looked at him for a moment. “I would have believed you if you had not included Seonghwa in that list.”

“Why?”

“You’re nothing like Seonghwa,” you joked. “He’s far too kind and refined.”

San’s loud laughter filled the room and you looked around, making sure no one was being disturbed. You leaned forward to tap his hand and make him stop laughing.

“I’m not lying, Luna,” San wiped his eyes. “Seonghwa… he may look refined but he can be very playful and childish when he wants to be. Yunho… well, once he warms up, you’ll know that he is the best kind of person you can have by your side.”

Somehow, his words wrapped around your heart like a promise. “You care about them a lot, huh?”

“I do,” he nodded. “They’re my friends, a part of my heart. I would do anything for them.”

“And… Hongjoong?”

“Hongjoong, well…” San smiled. “You find that out for yourself.”

“Not helping, San,” you folded your arms but he shook his head.

“All I can tell you is that if you’re lucky enough to break his walls… if he takes you under his wing, he won’t let anything hurt you. That’s the kind of person he is. He is the boss but he acts like a shield for us, and I wish I could do the same for him.”

You took note of his words. Did you trust San? A bit, yes. If he said all those things about Hongjoong, they must be true– at least according to his perception. But could you trust Hongjoong? Could you act as a shield for them so they could protect you in the future?

You made the decision before you slept that night. 

During your night shift the next day, you waited for the office to get a bit emptier. When there was only Seonghwa and Hongjoong on the upper level, you took a leap of faith and knocked on the boss’s door. It was now or never, and you had to make your move.

“Come in,” Seonghwa’s voice sounded and you opened the door. Seonghwa was seated at the couch while Hongjoong was at the end of the room in his chair, scribbling on paper, not bothering to look at you.

“Can I talk to you for a moment?” You asked Seonghwa.

“Sure, have a seat,” he motioned to the couch in front of him and you did, sliding the report to him and glancing at Hongjoong once. “Is everything alright?”

“It is, but… I must warn you of something. You cannot proceed with the deal you’re making with Secretary Park Byung Eun.”

Seonghwa settled the pen he had been playing with on the table, taking a deep breath. “What is this really about?”

“Secretary Park is aiming to become the Minister of Health, isn’t that right? All of the ex-president’s team has either retired or left their posts, replaced by President Lee’s people,” you said. “Is that why you need Secretary Park? Because you have no other option?”

Seonghwa narrowed his eyes– how did you find out that he was aiming to become the next Minister of Health? It wasn’t publicly announced yet– he had yet to sign up as a candidate for that post. 

“You must have one hell of a source,” Seonghwa looked amused, glancing at Hongjoong who was smoking a cigar and now looking at you with mild interest. You gathered your nerves before continuing.

“He is not a good candidate for the position, but that is not what matters right now. I would have gone to Kihyun but I decided to confirm with you first because I’m not sure if he’s aware of your plans, but… you must need Secretary Park to approve some drug in the future, right?”

Seonghwa’s brow rose ever so slightly and you jumped a little when Hongjoong slammed the pen that he had been holding on the table. He cocked his head as he glared at you. 

“Miss Jeon,” he said in a warning tone. “If you don’t stop talking in circles right now and tell us what this is about, I’ll have to deal with you myself. You don’t want that.”

You gritted your teeth, unafraid for the first time in a while. “Do you want this business deal with Secretary Park to be legal? Just answer my question first, Mr. Kim.”

“That’s right,” Seonghwa answered for him. 

“You should know that Secretary Park already has some business deals with Strictland officials going on,” you said in a low tone and the two looked at each other in surprise, clearly unaware. “You know how it will look for you if word comes out– Strictland is already an occupied state on the verge of military dictatorship. You can try to verify it for yourself if you want, but whatever deal Secretary Park has going on with Strictland… it’s not legal in any sense, neither is it moral.”

Seonghwa took a deep breath. “Our meeting with Secretary Park is scheduled for tomorrow.”

“And I thought you should be aware of this before the meeting,” you locked eyes with him, hoping he could see the desperation in them. 

“Jeon y/n, was it?” Hongjoong called and you looked at him. He was squashing his cigar in the ashtray on his desk. You nodded and he finally smiled, though it looked almost devilish. “Why would you care to tell us this information?”

“You must have heard from your underboss,” you said. “I am willing to trade information with you in return for protection.”

“And power,” he pointed out the missing part. “You mentioned power.”

“I only desire power in order to survive in Eden,” you said.

“So why protection?” Hongjoong asked. “You can’t be a powerful figure in Eden and not have everyone targeting you.”

“Being a part of the Crescent Company is protection enough, I suppose,” you rested your hands on the soft material of your black pants, subtly wiping the sweat off. 

“Protection from whom?” Hongjoong asked, his gaze set on you. You found it overwhelming almost to the point that you considered answering– he had a commanding presence. 

“I… can’t say. Not yet,” you said and Seonghwa shook his head, having already known your answer. “I don’t expect you to tell me what the deal is about– after all, I’m only a bookkeeper. But I can give you better options– ex-president Mr. Son, for instance, or Assemblyman Kim Jooheon.”

“Assemblyman Kim is a nobody in the political scene if we are being objective,” Seonghwa said. “I don’t think he will have much to offer to us.”

“He will have something to offer to you if you give him something in return– maybe something that pulls him out of the shadows and into the spotlight of the political scene,” you said, recalling how the politicians in Edenary always thought Assemblyman Kim had the potential but lacked the resources. 

“Why would Mr. Son ever associate himself with us?” Hongjoong got up from his seat, slowly walking towards you, hands in the pocket of his striped black suit. “We may be owners of a legal business company now, but everyone knows of our mafia ties and background.”

“You are an honoured military strategist who played a vital role to end the war, isn’t that true?” 

Hongjoong chuckled at that, nodding slowly to confirm that and settling down next to Seonghwa. “Not everyone is aware of that, Miss Jeon. I don’t like people talking about it.”

“But Mr. Son was the president at that time, and he honoured you with a badge,” you kept his gaze. “I think he will agree that a person who did everything in their power to end the feud between two nations would not be making a deal that would harm his motherland and its people… don’t you agree?”

Hongjoong stared at you while considering your words. “You have a lot of audacity to come in here and make claims about a business you are not a part of, and people you don’t know enough about. Possessing such audacity is what almost cost you your life that night, and what is tempting me to retract the deal my partners made behind my back.”

And there it was. A stark reminder that you may have struck a deal with the queen, but you were still just a pawn in this game of chess where the king ruled. Weak and expendable– that’s what you were.

“Hongjoong,” Seonghwa began but Hongjoong raised his hand in the air to stop him from speaking further, his eyes still locked with yours. You didn’t feel shame nor fear in that moment– just regret that maybe you had trusted the wrong people.

“You are a bookkeeper, and you can remain so. Goodnight, Miss Jeon.”

You nodded slowly, letting his words sink in and then you got up, bowing in greeting. “Good night, Mr. Kim, Mr. Park. Thank you for hearing me out.”

With that, you left the room and Seonghwa looked at Hongjoong. “You did not have to put it like that. I know she got you.”

Hongjoong slumped down on the couch in front of Seonghwa, cracking his knuckles while he thought about his next move. “Is there any way we can verify the information about Secretary Park without anyone getting a whiff?”

“I don’t know,” Seonghwa admitted. “I’m wondering how she knows that– if that was the truth. If Secretary Park really has a business deal with Strictland officials… I don’t think even his wife would know about that. If anyone gets a whiff of that, it could cost him his position and cause President Lee significant harm too, since Park Byung Eun is his secretary. You know how Strictland is still a sensitive topic after the war.”

“Then how does she know?” Hongjoong looked at Seonghwa. “Is she a spy?”

“She can’t be,” Seonghwa shook his head. “Luna worked as the bookkeeper at Crescent Bar for two years–”

“Luna?”

“That’s what everyone calls her,” Seonghwa said, a hint of a smile on his lips.

“She could be a mole, then,” Hongjoong sighed. “But no. Even a mole could not possess this information. What do we do?” 

“Kihyun was Secretary Park’s former business partner. I’ll ask Yunho to check with Kihyun and confirm if Secretary Park is the right man for this deal, but that means we will have to let Kihyun know that we are intending to make such a deal.”

“We were going to tell him anyway, let’s proceed with that plan. And Seonghwa?”

“Yeah?”

“Contact the RV spies and get any information you can on your little bookkeeper.”

next chapter

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[eepwtf]

UNPUNISHABLE—soldier boy boarding school au! x catholic boy

find part two here ⤷ part two

“i’m sorry,” you whispered hoarsely, your voice breaking. “God, ‘m sorry, i’m sorry.” but the words were hollow, meaningless, drowned out by the frantic beating of your heart and the unbearable ache in your body.

he cut you off with a hand on your wrist, his grip firm but not unkind. “feels good, doesn’t it?” he murmured, his eyes locking onto yours. the heat in his gaze made your stomach twist, your cock twitch in your hand. “bet you’ve been pent up for weeks, huh? poor fuckin’ thing...”

warnings; religious guilt and themes , power dynamics , getting off to underwear , degradation and humiliation kink , voyeuristic elements (mirror use) , handjobs , use of the words “filthy” , and “pervert”. wc: 5.4k

benjamin had been at this boarding school long enough to know exactly how it worked. the social hierarchy, the petty squabbles, the hazing rituals—they were as predictable as the smell of old books and stale coffee in the library. he didn’t care about most of it. he played his part: good grades, a cocky smile, and enough charm to skate by without making any real enemies. but the start of a new term always brought fresh blood, and benjamin had a sixth sense for spotting the ones who wouldn’t last.

and then, there was you.

you arrived late to the term, which was already a death sentence. the first few weeks were critical—the time when the hierarchy solidified, alliances were formed, and survival strategies were locked in. worse, you might as well have walked in with a neon sign flashing fresh meat. everything about you screamed out-of-place: the polished shoes that gleamed a little too much, the perfectly ironed shirt tucked with military precision, the rigid way you carried yourself, like you were bracing for a slap. you walked into the dining hall that first evening with your tray balanced so carefully it might as well have been a Eucharist offering, eyes darting around the room like you were waiting for someone to shove you back out the door. you didn’t even have to open your mouth for everyone to know: Catholic boarding school.

it didn’t take long for the other boys to catch on. they had a nose for blood, and you reeked of it. whispers followed you during study hall; cruel nicknames were hurled across the lacrosse field. someone replaced the water in your sports bottle with holy water one afternoon, which left you blinking back tears while everyone howled with laughter.

benjamin wasn’t sure why he noticed you, exactly. maybe it was the way you always seemed to be clutching a rosary in your pocket, running the beads through your fingers like a lifeline. maybe it was the way your cheeks flushed red every time someone snickered “Father” as you walked past. or maybe it was just boredom.

whatever it was, he found himself jogging after you one afternoon, his golden hair catching the sunlight like a halo as he called out, “hey!”

you stopped abruptly, startled, and clutched your books like they might shield you from whatever this was. “uh, hi?”

“you’re the new guy, right?” he asked, all casual confidence as he fell into step beside you.

“i’m not—”

“you are,” he cut you off smoothly, flashing an easy smile. “trust me, i’ve been here long enough to know. you’ve got that ‘lost lamb’ look.”

for a moment, you just blinked at him. his smile didn’t falter, though. Instead, he slung an arm around your shoulders like you were already old friends. “look, this place is a jungle,” he said, steering you toward the courtyard. “and you’re walking around with a target painted on your back. but lucky for you, i’m feeling charitable today.”

you hesitated, your whole body stiffening under his touch. “thanks, but i’m fine.”

“no, you’re not,” he said bluntly, his grin widening. “you’re fresh out of Catholic school, right? i can tell. you’ve got that whole... thing about you. like you’re waiting for a nun to materialize and slap you for breathing too loud.”

that earned him a faint flush of red creeping up your neck. you straightened your shoulders, clearly bristling, but instead of shoving him off, you sighed and let some of the tension drain from your frame. “yeah, well, i’m used to it.”

“doesn’t mean you have to suffer through it alone.”

from that moment on, things changed. benjamin took you under his wing—not that he’d ever admit to something so noble-sounding. it started small: little tips like which table to avoid during meals (definitely not the one near the windows, unless you wanted to end up as the debate team’s entertainment) or how to cut through the north courtyard to bypass the rugby team’s hazing gauntlet. when he noticed you sitting alone in the dining hall, bent over your tray like you were saying grace, he’d saunter over and drop into the seat across from you, grinning like you were his favorite person in the world.

“you’re not gonna survive this place with just prayer, you know,” he teased one evening, stealing a fry off your plate before you could stop him.

your ears burned, but you still muttered, “i don’t need your help.”

“sure you don’t,” he replied easily, resting his chin in his hand as he watched you squirm. “but humor me.”

you weren’t blind to the whispers that followed after that.

“never seen ben hang out with someone like him before.”

“you think they’re...?”

“no way. ben’s just bored. or maybe it’s, like, charity work.”

their words stung, but less than you’d expected. maybe it was because benjamin never seemed to notice—or care—what anyone else thought. he had a way of brushing off insults with that cocky grin of his, and slowly, you found yourself learning to do the same.

but for all his charm, benjamin was infuriating. he’d swipe your homework to “check something” and then return it with a smirk. he’d drag you into conversations you didn’t want to have, poking fun at your strict upbringing and coaxing stories out of you about priests, penance, and purgatory. he was relentless, and you hated that it made you feel a little less like the walls were closing in.

benjamin was everywhere. his laughter echoed in the halls, his golden hair glinting like sunlight, his voice as smooth and warm as honey. it didn’t matter where you were or what you were doing; he was inescapable. and at first, you didn’t mind. at first, you liked the way he looked at you, like you weren’t invisible. the way his arm slung so easily around your shoulders, the way he’d steal your fries or lean in too close just to watch you squirm. he made it look so easy, weaving you into his world with a smirk and a casual confidence you could never hope to emulate. he defended you from the worst of the hazing, diffused the cruel jokes with a well-timed barb or a cutting smile, and made sure you were never left sitting alone in the dining hall.

but then it started to change.

you started to change.

at first, it was subtle: a quickening in your chest when he leaned over your desk, close enough for his cologne to fog your senses. a tightness in your throat when his hand lingered on your shoulder, his thumb brushing the edge of your collar. he didn’t notice the way you froze when he stood behind you, leaning in to murmur some joke meant just for you. it was in the way he sat beside you during study hall, his long legs stretched out like he owned the space, his golden hair catching the light in a way that made your chest ache. it was in the way he teased you, his voice low and warm, always managing to say just enough to make you blush but never enough to cross a line. it was in the way he looked at you sometimes, his emerald eyes lingering just a moment too long, like he was searching for something in you that you didn’t even understand yourself. but you noticed.

you noticed everything.

the curve of his jaw. the warmth of his touch. the way his lips parted when he laughed, his head tilting back, throat exposed like an offering. it felt like blasphemy to see him this way, to want what you shouldn’t want. It felt like the serpent in the garden, whispering in your ear, coaxing you to look a little too long, to want what was forbidden.

and that’s when the shame began to take root.

it crept into your thoughts like a sickness, coiling around your heart. you began to see sin in every glance, every touch, every laugh that left you breathless. you couldn’t stop yourself from imagining things—things you couldn’t say, couldn’t even think without bile rising in your throat.

you prayed. oh, God, how you prayed. every night, you knelt beside your bed, fingers clutching the rosary so tightly they left indentations on your palms. you begged for forgiveness, begged God to deliver you from this sickness of the soul. you whispered Hail Marys into the dark, choking on the words as you begged the Blessed Virgin to intercede for you, to make you pure again. but your prayers felt hollow, empty. each whispered plea was drowned out by the memory of benjamin’s voice, the sound of his laughter, the way he had looked at you that day in the courtyard, sunlight haloing his head like a saint in a fresco.

you told yourself it wasn’t his fault. how could it be? he was just being benjamin, just being kind. he didn’t know what it did to you when he leaned in close, breath warm against your ear. he didn’t know about the nights you lay awake in the dark, staring at the ceiling, the air between your beds a chasm you longed to cross but never would.

the fault was yours alone. your weakness. your sin.

and yet, no matter how many times you dragged the blade of guilt across your soul, the feelings wouldn’t go away. they festered, spreading like rot, turning your prayers into cries of anguish. you thought of the words of Matthew: “if your right eye causes you to sin, gouge it out and throw it away. for it is better that you lose one of your members than that your whole body be thrown into hell.” and yet your eyes lingered on him still.

you began to pull back. at first, it was subtle: excuses to leave study sessions early, mumbling about assignments or the need to pray. you avoided his gaze, kept your hands clasped tightly in your lap when he reached out to touch your shoulder. you stopped laughing at his jokes, stopped letting him get too close, stopped letting him into the cracks of your armor.

but it was impossible to escape him. he was always there—leaning against your desk, lounging on his bed, sprawled out in the dining hall, his smile a temptation you couldn’t resist. you tried to flee from him, but he followed you everywhere, even in your thoughts. his voice was there when you knelt before the crucifix, his laughter echoing in the back of your mind as you begged God to cleanse you.

and the worst part was that he noticed. of course he noticed. the worst part was that you wanted him to. some small, desperate part of you wanted him to press, to dig, to uncover the thing rotting in your soul and absolve you of it.

“hey, what’s going on with you?” he asked one evening, lounging on his bed with one arm tucked behind his head. his shirt was rumpled, the top few buttons undone, and you hated the way your eyes were drawn to the hollow of his throat.

you couldn’t look at him. couldn’t bear to see the hurt in his green eyes, the confusion on his face, you couldn’t tell him that it wasn’t his fault, that it was your own weakness, your own sin. you couldn’t tell him that his mere existence was unraveling you, that every time he touched you, it felt like temptation made flesh. “nothing,” you said quickly, focusing on the textbook in your lap as if the words on the page could save you.

“bullshit,” he said, sitting up, his sharp green eyes piercing through your feeble lies. “you’ve been acting weird all week. did i do something?”

you flinched, the weight of his concern pressing down on you. you could feel the truth clawing at the back of your throat, desperate to be let out, but you couldn’t speak it. to confess was to condemn yourself. “no,” you said quickly, too quickly.

“then what is it?” his voice softened, but the hurt had already started to seep into it. you wanted to shove him away, to tell him to stop caring, to stop looking at you like that. stop making me feel this way. “you’re not... you’re not letting those assholes get to you, are you? ‘cause if someone’s giving you shit, i’ll—”

“it’s not that,” you snapped, harsher than you intended, your shame turning sharp as a blade. his expression faltered, and guilt twisted in your chest like a thorn. you dropped your gaze, your hands trembling as they gripped the edge of your book. “i just... i need space, okay?”

“space,” he repeated, the word flat and unfamiliar in his mouth. “from me?” he didn’t understand. how could he? to him, you were just the awkward Catholic boy he’d taken under his wing. he didn’t know about the fire consuming you from the inside out, the way his very presence felt like a test of faith you were doomed to fail.

the silence stretched out, suffocating. you could feel him staring at you, searching for something—an answer, a crack in your armor, anything that would make sense of this. finally, he exhaled sharply, the sound like a wound opening. “fine,” he said, standing abruptly. the bed creaked under his movement, the sound echoing in the quiet room. his voice was colder than you had ever heard it, laced with a bitterness that made your chest ache. “whatever you want, Father.”

the door clicked shut behind him, and you were alone. alone with the shame, the guilt, the terrible longing that refused to let you go. you pressed your hands together, the rosary dangling between your fingers like a lifeline, but even as you tried to pray, all you could think of was him.

but the distance didn’t help. if anything, it made things worse.

benjamin was always there, in your mind, no matter how hard you tried to shut him out. the memory of his smile haunted you during morning prayers. the sound of his voice echoed in your ears as you tried to focus on your studies. at night, in the dim light of your dorm room, you could hear him breathing in the bed across from yours, and it felt like a cruel reminder of everything you couldn’t have.

you hated him for it. you hated yourself more.

you had always been devout, a faithful son of the church. your rosary was your shield, your Bible your sword, your faith the fortress that had kept you safe from the temptations of the world. you clung to the Word of God like a drowning man clings to driftwood, trusting it to keep you pure, to keep you upright. but benjamin made you falter. benjamin made you doubt.

and worst of all, benjamin made you want.

the dreams had come slowly at first, creeping into your mind like thieves in the night. they were innocuous, almost innocent: his laugh ringing out like church bells, his hand brushing yours by accident. but they grew darker, heavier, like a storm gathering on the horizon. you began to dream of his hand lingering too long on your shoulder, sliding down your arm, his fingers warm, deliberate. you dreamed of his lips—pink, soft, sinful—hovering too close to yours, his breath ghosting against your skin. you dreamed of his hand, sure and unrelenting, sliding down your stomach, your cock throbbing under his touch as his name fell from your lips like a prayer you’d never dare to speak aloud.

you always woke from those dreams shaking, drenched in sweat and shame. your body betrayed you, your cock hard, insistent, as if it hadn’t just condemned you. the guilt came in waves, crashing over you, dragging you under. you’d fumble for your rosary in the dark, clutching it tightly, the beads biting into your palms like thorns. you’d sink to your knees on the cold, unyielding floor, whispering, “forgive me, Father, for i have sinned.”

your voice trembled, cracked, as you poured yourself out to a God who surely couldn’t love you anymore. you recited the Psalms until your throat was raw, until the words blurred into each other and the ache in your chest grew unbearable. you told yourself you were strong enough to resist, that the dreams meant nothing, that they were merely a test of your faith.

but the dreams kept coming.

and worse, some dark, treacherous part of you didn’t want them to stop.

one night, long after benjamin had left for the evening, you found yourself restless, the shame coiled tightly in your chest, suffocating. you paced the small dorm room, your rosary clutched in one hand, muttering prayers under your breath like a desperate incantation. but they didn’t help. they couldn’t stop the image of him from searing itself into your mind: benjamin sprawled out on his bed, his shirt half undone, his laugh warm and unguarded, his scent—clean, sharp, him—lingering in the air like incense.

you told yourself to stop, to look away, to think of anything else, but the pull was too strong. you walked into the bathroom, hoping the cold tile and harsh light would cleanse you, give you some clarity. but then you saw them.

benjamin’s boxers were draped carelessly over the counter, a remnant of his presence that felt like a physical blow. your heart lurched, your breath catching in your throat. you froze, your breath catching in your throat, shame flooding you before you’d even moved. you shouldn’t touch them. you knew you shouldn’t. this was wrong, disgusting, unforgivable. but before you could stop yourself, your hand was reaching out, trembling as it closed around the fabric.

they were still warm.

you brought them to your face, your chest heaving as his scent hit you like a blow. it was intoxicating, maddening, him. you inhaled deeply, the cotton brushing against your lips, and you could feel your body reacting, your cock straining against the confines of your jeans.

a strangled sound escaped your throat, half-sob, half-moan. you were shaking, trembling under the weight of your sin, but you couldn’t stop. the shame rose in you, thick and choking, but it only seemed to fuel the fire burning inside you.

your free hand slid down to the bulge in your jeans, your fingers fumbling with the zipper as you gasped for breath. “i’m sorry,” you whispered hoarsely, your voice breaking. “God, ‘m sorry, i’m sorry.” but the words were hollow, meaningless, drowned out by the frantic beating of your heart and the unbearable ache in your body.

your hand slipped into your boxers, your cock hot and throbbing in your palm. the fabric of benjamin’s boxers pressed against your face as you stroked yourself, the sensation overwhelming, sickeningly good. you bit down on your lip to stifle a moan, tears streaming down your face as the guilt clawed at you, sharp and unrelenting.

you hated yourself for this.

you hated how much you needed it.

each stroke felt like a lash against your soul, each gasp a plea for forgiveness you didn’t deserve. you thought of the saints, their eyes turned heavenward, their bodies pierced and broken for their faith, and you wondered if they would weep for you or turn away in disgust. you thought of the thorns pressed into Christ’s brow, of the spear that pierced His side, and you felt like you were driving it in deeper with every desperate, shameful motion.

you were drowning in sin.

the rosary clutched in your hand felt heavier than ever, its beads digging into your skin like penance, a crown of thorns wrapped around your fist. each bead you touched felt like a tally mark against your soul, a reminder of the countless sins you’d committed in thought, in word, and now—oh, God forgive me—in deed.

benjamin’s scent clung to the fabric pressed to your face, clean and sharp, with that faint musk of sweat and skin that was undeniably him. you could taste it on your tongue, could feel it seeping into your lungs like incense burned in offering. it filled you, overwhelmed you, until you couldn’t think of anything else.

your body betrayed you.

your cock throbbed in your hand, slick with the evidence of your shame. the other gripped the rosary so tightly that the crucifix bit into your palm, the tiny Christ pressed there like a mute witness to your depravity. tears streaked down your face, hot and bitter, dripping from your chin onto your bare chest. you felt split open, like the veil of the temple torn in two, laid bare before God and man.

“i’m sorry,” you gasped, the words breaking on your lips, no more than a breathless whisper. “fuck, ‘m so sorry.”

but even as you prayed, even as you begged for forgiveness, your hips jerked forward, thrusting into your fist. the friction was maddening, too much and not enough all at once. you couldn’t stop. you didn’t want to stop.

the shame was suffocating, thick as smoke, but it only seemed to fuel the fire raging in you. the boxers in your hand felt like a relic, a profane artifact that held power over you. you buried your face in them, inhaling deeply, and a strangled moan escaped your lips.

your fingers tightened around your cock, stroking faster, harder, desperate to chase the release you knew would damn you. you bit your lip, hard enough to draw blood, trying to stifle the sounds rising in your throat. they escaped anyway, broken gasps and half-sobs that echoed off the tile walls like confessions shouted in a cathedral.

the bathroom door creaked open.

you froze.

your heart stopped, then slammed back to life, pounding so loudly you thought it might burst. slowly, your eyes flicked toward the doorway, and there he was.

ben.

his green eyes were wide, his brows drawn together in confusion and concern as he stepped inside. “hey, are you—” he stopped mid-sentence, his gaze dropping to the scene before him.

your cock in your hand, hard and aching. his boxers clutched in the other, pressed to your face. the rosary tangled in your fingers, beads slipping between them like the blood of your guilt.

“fuck,” he breathed, his voice low and rough. his eyes darted back up to your face, and you could see the realization dawn in them. the pieces clicking into place.

the shame was instant, white-hot, burning through you like fire and brimstone. you dropped the boxers as if they’d scorched you, scrambling to cover yourself. words tumbled from your lips, incoherent and panicked. “i—i’m sorry, i didn’t—”

benjamin stepped closer, his movements deliberate, measured. his expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—curiosity? amusement? want?

your breath hitched as he crouched in front of you, his hand reaching out. you flinched, expecting anger, rejection, disgust. but instead, his fingers brushed against yours, prying the rosary from your trembling grip.

“hey,” he said softly, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. “relax.”

you shook your head, tears spilling over again. “i can’t—i’m so sorry. i shouldn’t—”

he cut you off with a hand on your wrist, his grip firm but not unkind. “feels good, doesn’t it?” he murmured, his eyes locking onto yours. the heat in his gaze made your stomach twist, your cock twitch in your hand. “bet you’ve been pent up for weeks, huh? poor fuckin’ thing...”

you wanted to protest, to tell him to stop, to push him away. but your body betrayed you again, leaning into his touch, your breath hitching as his fingers wrapped around your own.

“let me help,” he said, his voice low and rough, almost horse. you didn’t respond. you couldn’t.

he guided your hand, his grip firm and sure, stroking you in a rhythm that made your head spin. his other hand picked up the boxers from the floor, holding them to your face once more. “go on,” he murmured. “you want it, don’t you?”

a sob tore from your throat as you inhaled deeply, the scent of him filling your lungs. it felt wrong, filthy, perfect.

benjamin’s hand gripped your cock with a firm, unrelenting pressure, his fingers curling around your length as though he’d done this a thousand times before. the confidence in his touch was maddening, a sharp contrast to your trembling body and fractured thoughts. his palm was warm and sure, his movements measured, deliberate—stroking you with a pace that was just slow enough to make you ache, to keep you teetering on the edge of sanity.

“shhh,” benjamin murmured, his voice low, soothing, a sharp contrast to the roughness of his hand. his lips brushed the shell of your ear as he spoke, his breath warm and unbearably intimate. “you don’t want anyone else to hear, do you? just me. just us.”

you whimpered, a helpless sound that only made his smirk widen. the way his fingers curled around your cock, stroking upward with just enough pressure to make your thighs tense, sent bolts of heat racing through you. his thumb grazed the sensitive tip, spreading the slick pre-cum there with an unhurried, almost lazy motion that had your hips bucking forward without your permission.

“desperate already?” he asked, his tone mocking but soft, as if he was speaking to something fragile. he pressed the heel of his palm against the base of your cock, applying just enough pressure to make you ache, to keep you right on the precipice of pleasure without tumbling over. “you’re gonna have to work for it, sweetheart.”

the bathroom was suffocating, steam and guilt mingling in the stagnant air. ben’s grip on your wrist tightened, steadying your trembling body as he tugged you upward, his strength unyielding. you stumbled to your feet, barely able to think, barely able to breathe as he guided you toward the sink.

"look at yourself," he murmured, his voice a low growl that reverberated through the tiles. his hand cupped your chin, forcing your head up, making you confront the reflection in the mirror.

your face was a mess: tear-streaked, flushed, mouth parted in desperate gasps. your chest heaved, sweat glistening on your skin. and below, the evidence of your shame—your cock, swollen and slick, gripped tight in ben’s firm, unforgiving hand.

"god, look at you," he rasped, the words rough and dripping with derision, yet tinged with something darker, something hotter. his green eyes burned as they flicked between your reflection and the reality of you standing before him, shaking, broken. "so filthy."

you whimpered, your knees threatening to buckle under the weight of his gaze, of his words. "how do you think God would feel, huh?" he asked, his tone mocking, cruel in its softness. his lips brushed against your ear as he spoke, the contact sending shivers down your spine. "seeing you like this? crying and moaning like a fuckin’ sinner. bet the saints are turning away right now."

“stop,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, hoarse from the tears and the shame that choked you. but you didn’t pull away. you couldn’t.

benjamin’s hand tightened around your cock, stroking it with slow, deliberate precision. he watched your reflection, studying every flinch, every gasp, every broken sound that escaped your lips. "stop?" he echoed, his smirk deepening. "you don’t want me to stop." he tilted his head, his eyes locking onto yours in the mirror. "look at yourself. you’re loving this. bet you’ve been dreaming about me, haven’t you? thinking about my hands on you, my mouth on you..."

your knees buckled at the insinuation, and his arm shot out, catching you around the waist, holding you upright. you tried to shake your head, to deny it, but your body betrayed you. your hips jerked forward again, seeking the friction his hand so cruelly denied you. “please,” you gasped, though you didn’t know what you were begging for—for him to stop, for him to continue, for absolution, for release.

he chuckled, low and throaty, the sound rumbling through your chest. "poor thing," he murmured, his tone dripping with mock sympathy. "all those prayers, and this is where they got you. on your knees, jerking off with my fuckin’ boxers like a desperate little pervert."

your stomach twisted, shame coiling tighter, but the heat in his voice, the weight of his words—it ignited something inside you, something primal and unbearable.

benjamin leaned closer, his breath warm against your neck. his lips brushed your shoulder, soft at first, then firmer as his teeth grazed your skin. he nipped at you, not enough to break the skin but enough to make you gasp, your cock twitching helplessly in his hand. "fuck, you’re so easy," he hissed, his tone laced with contempt and fascination. his free hand slid up your chest, his fingers ghosting over the line of your throat before gripping your jaw. he forced your gaze to stay fixed on the mirror, his green eyes burning into yours through the glass. "look at yourself," he demanded, his grip tightening on your chin just enough to keep you compliant. "take a good, long look."

your eyes flicked to the mirror, and the sight made your stomach churn. your face was flushed, your eyes glassy and wet from unshed tears. sweat clung to your skin, your hair disheveled, and your lips swollen from where you'd bitten them raw. your cock was still hard, leaking against your stomach, throbbing with need as benjamin stood behind you, as he pumped you in slow, devastating strokes “does this feel good?” he whispered, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. his voice dripped with mockery, sending a jolt of humiliation through you. "getting all hard for me, like some filthy little pervert? huh?"

your hips jerked forward involuntarily, chasing the friction of his touch, and a broken moan tore from your throat. the sound echoed in the small bathroom, a damning confession of your weakness. benjamin smirked, his grip on your jaw tightening just enough to keep you in place. "that’s what i thought."

your knuckles turned white as you gripped the edge of the sink, the cold porcelain biting into your palms. you tried to look away, shame prickling your every nerve, but benjamin’s grip was unrelenting. he tilted your chin higher, forcing your gaze to stay fixed on the mirror. “don’t you fucking look away,” it was a command, sure, but also quiet request, one you couldn’t bring yourself to refuse. “i want you to see exactly what you are. a filthy, desperate pervert, getting off to the thought of me. say it.”

your breath hitched, a broken moan tearing from your lips as your hips jerked forward, chasing the friction of his touch. the sound seemed to please him, his smirk widening as his other hand moved to your waist, holding you steady against the sink. “say it,” benjamin murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. his hand on your cock moved faster now, his strokes rough and unrelenting, dragging you closer to the edge. “say what you are.”

“i—i can’t,” you gasped, your voice cracking under the weight of your shame.

“yes, you can.” his tone softened just enough to make your chest tighten, to make you hate how much you wanted to give in. “say it, or i’ll stop.”

your head snapped up, panic flaring in your chest as you met his eyes in the mirror. he smirked at your reaction, his grip on you tightening just enough to remind you who was in control. “you don’t want me to stop, do you?” he teased, his voice a low purr as his fingers wrapped around your cock, squeezing just enough to make your vision blur. “you like this too much.”

“i’m a filthy pervert,” you finally choked out, the words burning like acid on your tongue.

“good boy.” benjamin’s smirk deepened, his hand moving faster now, dragging you toward the precipice. “now tell me what you want.”

“i—” your chest heaved, your hands gripping the edge of the sink so tightly your knuckles turned white. “i want you.” the confession tore free like a prayer, desperate and raw. “I want you to touch me, to—to make me cum—”

benjamin chuckled, the sound low and satisfied as he pressed his lips to your neck. “that’s more like it,” he murmured, his voice dripping with approval. “go on. let go for me. i want to feel you come apart in my hand.”

his words were your undoing. your body arched against him, trembling as the pleasure surged through you like a wave crashing against the shore. benjamin’s grip was firm, steady, grounding you as you came with a shuddering cry, your release splattering against the mirror in thick, messy streaks.

“fuck,” ben breathed out, his tone heavy with awe as he watched your reflection. his hand didn’t stop, coaxing every last drop from you, his strokes slow and deliberate now, like he was savoring the way you unraveled beneath his touch.

when it was over, you sagged against the sink, your chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath. ben’s hand lingered on your cock, his fingers slick with your release as he pulled away, his smirk softening into something almost tender. “look at that,” he murmured, his hand sliding up to grip your chin, tilting your head back so your eyes met his in the mirror. “such a pretty mess.”

you swallowed hard, the shame creeping back in like a tide, but ben’s thumb brushed against your jaw, grounding you. “you okay?” he asked softly, his voice lacking the teasing edge it had carried before. you nodded weakly, your throat too tight to speak.

“good.” his smirk returned, softer now, but no less infuriating. he leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “because you owe me a clean mirror.”

© 𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐰𝐭𝐟’𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐲! 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋!

[whimsybats]

Task Force 141 x Batmom!Reader (Pt. 1?)

crossover AU

platonic Task Force 141 x batmom!reader x batfam

Bruce Wayne x Reader

(this is my first time writing headcanons on here or anywhere so I'm so sorry if it sucks LOL I might be adding more parts to this later/making it a series of headcanons? I need to get used to writing characters and their personalities, any tips would be appreciated!)

Batmom!Reader who was brought into the events of MW1 under Laswell's command.

I'd imagine she'd have become a Lieutenant. Prior to the events of MW1 she might've worked with Ghost a few times.

She assisted Gaz and Price in Piccadilly. With her medical skills and tactics she made an impression on both of them securing her place in 141 as the resident medic.

Her alias is up to you! (ex; Soap, Ghost, Gaz etc.)

I'd imagine she met Bruce pre-robin era after Piccadilly and assisted with an evacuation while he was Batman, despite his multiple attempts to get her out as well.

He then likely looked her up on the computer in the Batcave, intrigued. Bruce noticed her military background, seeing her involvement with Piccadilly among other events in her career, it made sense.

"Lieutenant (L/N)..." Bruce eyed the computer in interest.

"Another one of your... projects Master Bruce?"

"Something like that I guess."

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Eventually you met as Bruce and (Y/n) and had gotten married along the way with having adopted your kids.

When you found out Bruce was Batman, you weren't too shocked, seeing as one of your teammates literally code name is Ghost and also dresses... in a similar scary fashion.

One by one he met your team. They each took their turns interrogating him, Price and Ghost the most. They had to make sure he treated their teammate well after all.

Alfred and Price got along well, likely bonding over their shared paternal figure roles and SAS backgrounds.

Soap and Gaz likely bond well with Dick and Jason.

I'm fairly certain Stephanie and Soap would make a great duo. They would so play pranks around the manor, one time they messed with Ghost maybe messing with his gear like his mask or something (maybe making it something cute instead of scary idk LOL) and he couldn't find his backup, so he had to go around in some cute cat balaclava or something.

Ghost might give them some jump scares once in a while, maybe standing in the corner like Drax when they realize some of their equipment is jammed only giving them a eerie smile under his mask and leaving them to figure out some of their own equipment was replaced with water guns or something.

You might end up having to defuse potential fights between Ghost and Bruce reminding you of Bruce's old fights with Jason.

Speaking of Jason... he and Kyle might try to "one up" each other but neither thinking that anything can really beat being revived straight from a Lazarus Pit.

"Ever fallen out of a helicopter... twice?" Gaz smirked.

"Nah, but you ever try dying?" Jason asked in response earning widened eyes from Gaz.

"You serious mate?"

"More than I'd like to admit," he shrugged, "but hey, more to hold over B's head the better."

"Bloody hell... Gotham is insane."

"Takes one to know one, or something like that."

---

Okay so we know Ghost likes to throw in an occasional joke but imagine he'd pull one in front of your kids.

"What do you call a soldier who loves to paint?" he asked Damian who simply looked up at him and glared with Jason right behind him.

"An art-illery master," queue the complaining from Jason and an eye twitch from Damian.

Bruce often gets more stressed whenever you're on the field, somehow he always finds a way to sneak into the comms and make sure your okay on a private line.

"Bruce I'm fine," you grunted as you took down an enemy, "let me speak to my damn Captain."

"...No."

"B..." you sighed, "I'll make sure this mission is done as quick as possible. Just go take care of the kids for me."

"Fine," he grumbled.

"I love you- now give me back my line to Price."

He mutters a "love you too" before cutting the line.

"What the hell was that Lieutenant?" Price asked on a private line with you and 141.

"My dumb husband," you rolled your eyes. (This would likely be when they know Bruce is Batman to avoid confusion)

Soap would whistle on the comms "Someone misses their missus huh?"

"Don't push it Johnny."

----

tag list: @otterluver05 @sad-girl09

please feel free to let me know if you want to be tagged for any upcoming fics related to this crossover!

[slushie-slam]

more modern daarin + day 31 (kiss)

I’ve only drawn them kissing one (?) other time and it was partially a joke T___T

thoughts to follow

sooo I’ve gotten really into this AU LOL and have been thinking about how different Daan and Karin’s traits would manifest under modern circumstances.

Karin in particular I feel wouldn’t afraid to be clickbaity if it means more eyes are on things she believes are important, playing into the vulture-like nature of her profession to get a message across. She’s not a bonafide journalist yet since she’s taking the education-based path to journalism, I think that would be a pain point for her with her work. Doesn’t like people pointing out she’s not a “real” journalist yet despite all the effort she puts in to her independent coverage. She easily dishes it out but struggles to take it (like in the forest convo b/t her and Daan)

Modern Daan being an actual medical resident as opposed to a doctor’s apprentice turned military medic makes a bit more sense to me as medical school would be more accessible to him, especially if his in-law was bankrolling his education (not that he was particularly drawn to the profession for any other reason than survival, but was encouraged by his fil and his desire to maintain his engagement to Elise)

both have insecurities about their professions and I like how that gives way to their push-and-pull dynamic. they’re always testing each other lol

[rafeslvbug]

What does the rafe au’s do for Father’s Day??

I LOVE THIS

military!rafe

one girl, and twin boys. father’s day is probably one of his favourite days.

a day where he’ll try not to care about work, he’ll sleep in, let the kids do whatever dumb thing they want to do for him.

lovebug!reader would dress the kids up in appropriately themed t-shirts. maybe the boys have one like little military designed uniforms, you wanted to do something cuter but they’re dead set on being their dad’s little soldiers- he’s trained them as such. baby girl has a shirt that says “daddy’s girl” or something like that.

will play every backyard or board game with his kids, do everything he wouldn’t usually do. eat pancakes at breakfast? a little reluctant at first but the boys are excited so he gives in. even lets them do silly shapes out of the blueberries and honey.

nfl!rafe

the most fun dad out of all the rafe!au’s

loves father day. would probably wake up first just to tell everyone it’s fathers day

distracts him from how shitty ward was as a dad

family outings. taking the kids to the park, matching outfits, cinemas, maybe even take them to a match for one of his favoured sports. usually only you and him go to matches, together as the kids are too young, couldn’t care less today.

loves the cameras to see how happy he is being a dad. maybe a cute post, one of his rare ones. really only posts for wedding anniversaries, birthdays and then mother’s/father’s day.

pediatrician!rafe

loves father’s day ever since he got rory

he thinks it’s such a privilege

rory’s quite young, but he enjoys getting the messy cards her school makes each kid make, will stick them up on the fridge

will take rory anywhere she wants to go, which makes it seem like it’s her birthday but really he’s just being a dad that makes his daughter happy. it makes him happy in turn

if you’re pregnant? even better, will forever talk about how good father’s day is going to become. how he’s blessed etc. because you allowed him into your life.

for pediatrician!rafe, father’s day is more about thanking the girls who let him be a dad.

hockey!rafe

would take his daughter out to the rink to practice, and play hockey since that’s how he shows his love best - through his sport, which is now him and his daughter’s sport.

for shits and giggles, might try figure skating with you to make your daughter laugh when he face-plants the ice. then he can laugh at her when she does the same thing. in the end, you get the last laugh.

would go to a fancy restaurant, if he feels like it, or takeout if he’s after something more homely. either way, it’s funny, he’ll tip the waiter extra or pay it forward

for a gift? maybe a signed puck, a new stick, something he had been wanting for a while, or something from an idol. you’d pull strings, you’d get it done.