#the clown works with the healthy a part of you.

[girlygguk]

CRAZY | JJK (Part 2)

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

pairing ceo!jk x employee!(f)reader

rating 18+ minors dni; smut, fluff, angst

genre coworkers to lovers au, established relationship

word count 13.2k

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

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

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

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

801 DAYS AGO

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook was good. Really fucking good.

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

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

Except for that one time.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that was it.

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

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

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

Maybe you would've clicked a higher floor.

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

Sigh.

You were really going to miss Jiminie, though.

“So... how's your shift going?”

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

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

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

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

"Well, I—no, I just—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Should I come back later?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jimin nodded, offering you a simple smile.

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

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

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

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

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

Jimin slowed at the entryway to Jungkook's office.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jimin's silence was enough of an answer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jimin couldn't help but grin, looking over his shoulder to catch you glancing down at your Apple watch. He bit back a snicker when you rolled your eyes, clearly getting impatient.

"She'd be a big loss, seonsaengnim," Jimin said honestly as he turned back to his boss. "I believe I'm making your life easier. You live, eat, and breathe this company."

Jungkook groaned, closing his eyes briefly before nodding. "Send her in. Five minutes."

"Thank you, seonsaengnim." Jimin bowed, turning toward the door.

"Jimin," Jungkook called out, his assistant's hand freezing on the handle.

"Yes, sir?"

"Draft effective immediate termination papers for Lee Dohyun and put them on my desk when you leave for the night."

Jimin bit back a grin. "Yes, sir."

You straightened in your seat as soon as you saw Jimin approaching, eyes narrowing suspiciously. He looked like the cat that caught the canary, and you didn't trust it for a second.

"Y/N, this way, please—"

"No," you snapped, swatting his outstretched hand away. "Brief me."

There was no way you were walking into a meeting with the fucking CEO without any preparation. Was he fucking high?

Jimin chuckled softly, clearly enjoying this way too much. "Relax, Y/N. It'll only take a few minutes. Jungkook's not much of a talker…" He reached out again, and you batted his hand away once more.

He laughed again, then pouted, blinking at you with wide, innocent eyes. "Please, Y/N? Just trust me."

"God, you're a cunt," you muttered under your breath, shooting him a glare as you stood and smoothed your skirt. Reluctantly, you started toward the office.

"Unprofessional…" Jimin teased with a grin, snickering when you turned and mouthed 'get fucked' at him before stepping inside.

The glass doors clicked softly behind you as you entered the impeccably tidy office. "Seonsaengnim," you greeted with a bow. “Y/LN Y/N. It's nice to formally meet you."

Jungkook barely glanced up, his dark eyes sweeping over you for just a moment before he dropped them back down to the file on his desk.

His nod was curt, his voice low and indifferent. "Jeon Jungkook," he said, as if his name wasn't already plastered across every inch of this building.

When he gestured toward the seat in front of his desk, you sat down, crossing your legs as he settled back into his chair. His attention returned to the open file. "Your contract ends in four days."

"Yes, sir," you nodded, hands resting in your lap as you held back any trace of bitterness.

"Do you not wish to stay here?" His voice was steady as his eyes flicked up to meet yours.

You blinked, a little surprised by the question. "No, sir. I do wish to stay. But I haven't heard anything from management regarding a permanent position."

"Who do you report to?" Jungkook asked, though you were sure he already knew the answer.

"Lee Dohyun-seonsaengnim."

He leaned back in his chair, drumming his tattooed fingers lightly against the desk as he skimmed the file. "Your work is impressive."

"Thank you, sir." You smiled softly, ignoring how those four simple words made your stomach flip. "That means a lot coming from you."

His gaze lingered on you for a second longer before he closed the file and set it aside. "Y/LN Y/N," he said, his voice calm, "Why do you think your contract hasn't been extended?"

You blinked, momentarily thrown off by the question. "I'm not entirely sure, seonsaengnim."

Jungkook hummed. "You've been here almost a year. Your work speaks for itself. Yet your contract hasn't been extended." His gaze locked on yours, and for a second, he almost looked genuinely interested. "Why?"

You inhaled slowly, keeping your expression as neutral as possible. "I've heard rumors, sir. But I'm not one hundred percent certain."

An eyebrow arched, and Jungkook tilted his head slightly. "Let's say the rumors are true. Do you think personal reasons should outweigh performance?"

"No, sir," you answered steadily. "But I don't control the decisions."

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, and for a moment, his eyes flickered with amusement. Whether he appreciated your honesty or just liked watching you squirm, you weren't sure. "Do you plan on accepting an offer from another company, Y/N?"

You gave a slight nod. "Yes, sir. My first choice is KimCo. They've offered me a permanent coordinator role in their administration department. I plan on sending my letter of acceptance tonight, after my shift."

Jungkook was quiet for a moment, his dark eyes roaming over you lazily, but enough that it was impossible not to notice. "Is there anything I can do to change your mind?" he asked finally, his voice casual as he leaned back in his chair. "Or are you happy to go to KimCo?"

"I would prefer to stay, sir," you said, holding his gaze. "If Jeon Corp is willing to match the salary offer and I'm guaranteed a permanent position."

"What's the offer?"

"₩67m, sir."

Jungkook's expression didn't change. "We can do eighty."

"Wha—"

"I'll have your permanent administrative coordinator contract drafted by tonight and emailed to you. Will that work?"

It took you a second to process his words before you blinked in surprise. "Yes, sir," you replied, fighting to keep the smile tugging at your lips in check. "It would."

Jungkook leaned back further in his chair, his eyes flicking over you once more, lingering in a way that wasn't accidental. Then, with a simple nod, he closed the file in front of him. "Good. I'll expect your response by tomorrow morning."

You still don't really know how it happened.

Maybe it started when you stood to give him a polite bow before leaving his office, and he reached out for a handshake at the exact same moment. His cold hand accidentally brushed against the side of your inner breast through your blouse as you leaned forward, and suddenly, both of you froze.

Jungkook pulled his hand back sharply, his brows furrowing as he stared down at the file on his desk like it was the most interesting thing in the world, muttering a low apology, his usual confident tone suddenly gone.

It was... so cute.

Seeing the man who looked like he could ruin your life with just a snap of his fingers suddenly all shy and flustered as if he was more embarrassed than you were? Fucking adorable.

Maybe it was his instinct to avoid an HR complaint, to maintain professionalism in what could have been misconstrued as an inappropriate touch.

But you weren't going to misconstrue it. It was an accident.

And, honestly... you always were kind of a sucker for bad boys with soft eyes.

"Fucking goodddd!!!" you moaned, your voice barely coherent as your cheek pressed against the cold surface of his desk. Each relentless thrust from Jungkook had your body jiggling under him, your mind lost in a haze as his hips slammed into you without mercy. "S-so fucking b-biiiiig."

Your eyes rolled back, throat raw from the croaky whimpers that escaped between each ragged breath. His hand was firm on the back of your head, keeping you pinned down, helpless as he took you apart, piece by piece.

"I know, baby," he cooed, his voice laced with that condescending pout that only made you clench harder around him. "I know it's big, baby. But you can take it, can't you?"

His fingers tangled in your hair, brushing lightly over your flushed cheek in a teasing, mocking pat. Then, without warning, he pulled back and slammed into you harder, deeper, until you felt him hit that spot. That fucking spottt. Your breath caught in your throat as he didn't stop, didn't let up, just kept going, over and over and over.

Your mouth fell open in a silent scream, nails scraping into the polished wood of his desk until you felt the lacquer gathering beneath your fingernails. The loud, wet slaps of his hips against your ass echoed through the room, his heavy balls smacking into your swollen clit.

"'Course you can take it. 'Cause you're such a hard worker, hm? Such an overachiever, aren't you, baby." His voice dripped with dark amusement, each taunting word sending shivers down your spine. His hand pressed your head harder into the desk, the weight of him leaving you trembling, drool pooling on the wood beneath you as you gasped and whimpered, completely at his mercy.

"You can take it, Y/N. Know you can," he murmured, every word like a filthy promise, his gaze locked on the way your body was surrendering to him, giving him everything. He wasn’t going to stop until you broke. Until you were his.

"Color, baby." He growled into your neck, his breath hot against your skin. He hummed in delight when he felt you swallow, your gasps feeding into his satisfaction.

"Green," you choked out, barely able to form the words. "Do anything to me. Green, fucking green to it all," you cried, voice raw as tears blurred your vision, and Jungkook groaned, teeth grazing the delicate skin of your throat in approval.

His grip tightened in your hair again, yanking you upright until your back was flush against his chest. "G-g-godddddd," you choked out, body trembling, tears threatening to spill as his thrusts grew quicker, more brutal, each one slamming harder and louder, drowning out everything else.

Your hands shot up, clawing desperately at the back of his neck as you tried to hold on, your body burning from the inside out as he destroyed you. His lips ghosted over the curve of your neck, teeth grazing your skin just as his hand slipped down your stomach, his fingers finding your swollen, slippery clit with ease.

Jungkook's pace became punishing, driving into you harder and faster, your body quivering under his touch. His lips brushed lazily over your neck, whispering filthy praise into your ear as his fingers circled your clit, sending a jolt through your entire body. The wet, sloppy sounds of his hips smacking into your ass filled the room, each thrust sending you closer to the edge.

"F-fuck, Jungkook," you gasped, your voice cracking as his pace quickened even more at the sound of his name on your lips. "It's s-so… fuck…"

He groaned low in your ear, his hand fisting your hair tighter, yanking your head back as his hips crashed into you over and over. "So good, Y/N baby," he cooed, his voice dripping with lust. "You're doing so fucking well. Taking it so good."

The praise made your throat bob, your entire body teetering on the edge of collapse. You couldn't think of anything but him—full, Jungkook, full, Jungkook. It was all-consuming, the only thing that mattered.

You weren't just wet anymore—you were disgustingly soaked, your arousal dripping down your thighs, mixing with the sweat on your skin as he ruined you. You let out a sob as tears streaked down your cheeks, your mascara no doubt smeared beyond repair as your entire body burned with pleasure.

"Careful, baby," he hummed darkly, voice tinged with amusement. "Don't want anyone to hear you, huh. Coming to check if you're okay..."

Your eyes flicked toward the glass doors, your head lolling back into the crook of his neck as you realized the vulnerability of your position. Fucked out, skirt bunched up around your waist, tits spilling over your bra, completely on display and helpless in his arms—holy fuck. The idea of someone seeing you like this had your thighs pathetically trembling as you felt yourself get even wetter. Sicko.

"S-sir," you stammered, the words forced out between his relentless thrusts that threw your body forward. "Cl-close the blinds."

Jungkook's lips curled into a smile against your neck at the lack of conviction in your words. Fucking perfect. His breath was warm as he whispered, "Why would I want to do that?" His hand slid to your chin, his fingers gripping firmly as he forced your eyes to the glass. "Y'look so fucking pretty, Y/N. Who would want to hide all that?"

Humiliation mixed with need, making your core throb even harder. The reflection of your wrecked form stared back at you—trembling, sweaty, makeup running down your tear-streaked face.

Well, he wasn't wrong. You did look kind of pretty.

The thought of how many other women had been in this same position with him briefly slithered through your mind, but you whimpered, pushing it away.

"H-harder, Jungkook… please," you gasped, voice a broken plea. "P-please, baby?"

That was all it took. His low groan vibrated through you, his hands gripping your waist tight as he snapped his hips into you with a force that made the desk rattle beneath your hands. One hand cupped your breast, tugging harshly at your nipple, while the other slipped down to mercilessly slap at your clit over and over.

"Shit, shit, shit, shittttt!" you sobbed, your voice high and broken, pleasure tearing through your body.

"You're close, aren't you?" Jungkook rasped, his voice rough as his thrusts grew erratic, harder, faster. "Getting so fucking tight around me. Gonna come for me, aren't you, baby?"

Your mind was gone. You couldn't focus on anything but the feeling of him inside you, stretching you, filling you, owning you. "J-Jungkook..." you slurred, your head falling back against his chest, "please make me come, baby, pleasepleasepleaseeee."

Jungkook's arms tightened around your trembling body, and in one quick motion, he sat back in his office chair, pulling you down into his lap. You cried out as his hands hooked under the back of your knees, planting his feet on the ground and spreading your legs wide, completely open, and facing the see-through fucking doors.

He didn't give you a second to breathe before he started pounding into you again, his fat cock hitting so deep at the new angle that your body shook uncontrollably. You couldn't even hear your own cries—just the wet, obscene slapping of skin and Jungkook's gorgeous groans in your ear.

"Rub your fucking clit," he commanded, his voice thick with urgency. "Come. Now, Y/N. Fucking come."

Your hand flew to your clit, trembling fingers rubbing furiously, slipping because you were so fucking wet. "Jungkook," you gasped, voice breaking, tears pouring down your cheeks.

"No, baby, f-fuckkk, I'm sor—" You couldn't stop the sobs, your body convulsing as the tension coiled tighter and tighter inside you. "Jungkook, I'm—I'm so sorry, ahhhh fuckkk! I-I'm gonna squirt, oh my goddddd!"

"Fuck, yes," he growled, and just as your body started to seize up, his hand shot down, pressing hard on your lower belly and bladder, right where he was buried deep inside you. His hips didn't relent, pounding into you with the same brutal pace.

The pressure on your abdomen made everything inside you snap. Your scream tore through his office as your walls clamped down hard on him, your body shaking violently as your hand trembled, losing its grip on your clit. You came so hard that your hand slipped away entirely, but before the overwhelming release could fade, Jungkook's hand was there, replacing yours instantly. His fingers rubbed your swollen clit with intense pressure, refusing to let you stop.

"Fuckk, look at that fucking pussy, Y/N," he growled as he slapped your pulsing clit over and over. "Keep going, fuck, keep squirting on my fucking dick, baby, holy shittttt."

The filthy command tipped you over the edge again. The sensation was too much, and you started to gush even harder. Wetness sprayed everywhere, soaking his lap, drenching the desk. You were fucking gone.

"Holy fuck," Jungkook choked out at the sight of your cunt gushing out liquid, his hips jerking erratically as his body tensed beneath you. He came hard into the condom with a deep, broken groan, his grip on you tight as he rode out his release, still rubbing your clit with nasty, unrelenting strokes, making sure you didn't stop.

Your body convulsed violently, your legs shaking uncontrollably as he kept rubbing, drawing out every last wave of your orgasm until you were a trembling, sobbing mess. His big hand cupped over your warm pussy, feeling it throb beneath his palm as he slowed his thrusts, easing you through the last shudders of your release.

"My godddd," he growled, his voice raw with awe as he moved his hand and looked down at the mess you'd made. Your quivering pussy, glistening and red, his slacks drenched, the chair wet, and even some paperwork on the desk soaked through.

Fuck, he groaned internally. He's obsessed.

Your chest heaved as you slumped against him, completely spent, your head falling onto his shoulder. Jungkook’s hands glided up and down your trembling thighs, suppressing the smile tugging at his lips as you buried your face into the crook of his neck, clinging to him like he was the only thing holding you together.

"Well done," he murmured, his lips grazing your forehead before pressing a soft kiss there. You could still feel his heart racing against your skin as you tried to catch your breath.

"Seonsaengnim," you muttered, still panting, "I'm so sorry about your papers—"

"Shut up," Jungkook cut you off with a roll of his eyes, your sudden shift to formalities clearly grating on him. His hands continued their soothing path over your stomach, fingers brushing lightly over the soft skin before he gently adjusted your legs on his lap. His strong thighs kept your feet dangling above the floor, his touch softening as he patted your belly absentmindedly, his voice easing. "It’s alright."

You tried to gather yourself, your mind still spinning. "I haven't done that in a while," you mumbled into his neck, the words slipping out without thought. "God."

Jungkook swallowed hard, suppressing the mix of emotions rising in his chest. Pride at making you feel this way. Anger at knowing someone else had. His jaw clenched briefly before he cleared his throat, forcing a casual hum of acknowledgment. "Good."

He patted your belly a couple more times, as though resetting his focus. "You okay to get dressed?" he asked, his voice slipping into something nonchalant, though the grip on your thighs lingered a moment longer than necessary. "I've got a meeting soon."

You cleared your throat and nodded, feeling a little unsteady as you began to push yourself up from his lap. His hands helped guide you as you stood, and you winced slightly as he slipped out of you, leaving you feeling oddly empty. Your legs wobbled beneath you, but you ignored the sensation, letting your skirt fall back into place. You glanced around the room, searching for your panties.

You crouched down, looking under the chair, then the desk, even flipping through some of the papers on his desk, but there was no sign of them.

"Have you seen my…?" you trailed off, turning to look at him, feeling the confusion settle in as you noticed his casual indifference. Jungkook, now having disposed of the condom, zipped up his slacks with an air of calmness that seemed just a bit too casual for your liking.

You raised a brow, suspicion growing. His expression mirrored yours with a glint in his eyes.

"Where are they?" you asked, narrowing your gaze.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he straightened his shirt. Then, he casually slipped his hands into his pockets, and that's when you caught the faintest flicker of black lace peeking out from one of them.

You scoffed, stepping toward him, but before you could snatch them back, Jungkook caught your hand. He snickered softly as he brought it to his lips, pressing a mocking kiss to your knuckles.

“01J09. Lock the door when you leave, Y/N." His tone was commanding but light as he slipped past you, grabbing his suit jacket as if nothing had happened. He gave you one last look before walking out of the room, leaving you standing in the middle of his messed-up office.

You slumped back into his chair with a huff, quickly adjusting your bra and buttoning your blouse. As you started to tidy the room, you found some disinfectant wipes in a cupboard and began cleaning the desk, trying to distract yourself.

The sound of the door opening behind you startled you, and you quickly turned, assuming Jungkook had returned. But when you locked eyes with your best friend smirking widely at the scene, your stomach dropped.

"You fucking slut!" Jimin shouted, closing the door behind him as he made his way toward you, cupping your face with both hands. His grin was bright, teasing, as he shook his head in disbelief.

"Holy shit! I'm mortified that I just walked past and saw my best friend getting railed by my boss… but I'm also so fucking happy! So, are you staying? Are you guys a thing? How did it happen? Holy fuck—"

"Jiminie," you whined, pulling his hands away and turning back to the desk to finish cleaning, "I'll tell you later. My legs hurt, and we need to get to the meeting—"

"The meeting's over," Jimin interrupted with a snicker, "it's been an hour."

"What the fuck?!" Panic washed over you as you turned to face him, eyes wide.

Jimin just shrugged, still wearing that smug smile. "It's fine, Y/N. I took notes; they're on our shared drive. It wasn't anything important. Definitely not as important as the 'meeting' you were in."

You snorted, tossing the used wipes into the bin and slipping your heels back on as you made your way toward the door, legs still shaky. "Jesus, Jimin, I can barely walk."

"I noticed," Jimin teased, his voice full of amusement. "Want me to carry you?"

"No thanks," you replied quickly, shuddering at the thought. "I'd rather crawl than have anyone see you carry me out of here."

"Are you at least going to the bathroom to fix your hair and makeup?" he asked, eyeing you critically. "You look like you were attacked by a swarm of wasps..."

You groaned. "Yes, Jiminie. I'm going to the bathroom. Now stop pestering me, or you'll be having movie night alone tomorrow."

His smirk softened into a playful smile. "Okay, okay. I'll wait for you in your office."

You waited for him to leave before entering the pin code to lock Jungkook's office door. After hearing the beep and confirming the door was secure, you turned to head toward the bathroom, only to find Jimin still blocking your path, brows furrowed and eyes wide.

"Jimin-ah, move—"

"He gave you the code to his office?" Jimin's voice was serious now, the lightheartedness from earlier gone.

You blinked at him, confused by the sudden shift in his tone. "Yes. Can you please move?"

Jimin didn't budge. His frown deepened as he processed the information. “Y/N… He doesn't just give the code to his office out. To anyone."

Your stomach twisted at his words. "Maybe he'll change it later. He said he had a meeting to go to—"

Jimin shook his head. "He hasn't changed that code since he took over. And… he just canceled his meetings for this afternoon. I thought it was because…"

The sinking feeling in your stomach grew worse. Of course, Jungkook lied and just wanted to leave. What was he supposed to do—sit there and cuddle you? Offer you aftercare? This wasn't new for him. You weren't special. Just another woman in a long line.

You swallowed hard, ignoring the bile rising in your throat. "Jiminie, can I… meet you downstairs? I need to go to the bathroom."

Jimin's expression softened instantly, his hand reaching out to brush some hair from your face before leaning in to kiss your forehead. "Okay, love. I'll get you some water and wait in your office."

You thanked him quietly before heading to the bathroom, locking the door before you leaned heavily against the sink. Staring at your reflection, you sighed at the sight. Your sleek ponytail was merely a distant memory, makeup smeared beyond repair. And there, on your neck, was a deep hickey blooming against your skin.

"Idiot," you muttered to yourself as you turned the tap on, starting to scrub your face clean in attempt to erase every trace of what just happened.

What was happening to you? You never let stuff like this get to you. You'd had more than your fair share of one-night stands, and you knew better than to let them mean anything. It was nothing to him, and it should've been nothing to you.

But god, it felt like so much more than nothing.

"Idiotttt," you muttered again, this time more frustrated. As you aggressively wiped away the mascara and dried tears, your eyes kept drifting back to the hickey. You sighed, knowing you had no makeup to cover it until you got back to your office.

With a huff, you walked toward the toilet and sat down, your hand grazing the mark on your neck while you peed. The memory of his lips still lingered fresh in your mind, and the longer you sat there, the more the reality of it all began to sink in.

Fuck, you groaned internally. You're obsessed.

Jungkook pulled the keys from the ignition, stepping out of his car and adjusting the collar of his suit jacket when it shifted out of place. The door clicked shut behind him as he locked the Mercedes, casually slipping his phone into his pocket—right next to your panties, still snug in the black fabric of his slacks.

When he reached the reception desk, a fake redhead sat behind it, focused on a stack of paperwork. She didn’t notice him at first, not until the sound of his footsteps caught her attention. The moment her eyes met his, Jungkook noticed the way she straightened in her seat, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Oh, hello,” she greeted, her voice sweet but dripping with an attempt at seduction. “Welcome to Jang Merriott. How can I be of service?”

Jungkook swallowed the grimace threatening to surface, but his lips curved into that fake, charming smile he’d perfected for work events. “Hi, darling.” His voice was smooth, just the right amount of warmth. “I’m here for a business meeting, but I’m so silly...” He leaned in slightly, watching her eyes widen. His voice dropped to a lower, more intimate tone. “I forgot which room it’s in. Think you could help me?”

His eyes flicked to her nametag—Cho Minju—and when he looked back, he could practically see her mind spinning. “I-I…” she stammered, fingers hovering over the keyboard. “Do you have the name of the—”

“Lee Dohyun,” Jungkook answered easily, not missing the way she gulped when he added softly, “Thank you, baby.”

“L-Lee Dohyun,” she echoed nervously, typing the name into the system with shaky fingers. Then she paused, biting her lip. “I, um… I really shouldn’t if you aren’t—if you’re not on the guest list…”

“It would really help me out, Minju-yah,” Jungkook murmured, his voice taking on a softer, boyish edge. His brows furrowed just slightly as he leaned in a touch more, looking at her through his lashes. “If I’m late, Dohyun-seonsaengnim will kill me… I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”

Her wide eyes blinked up at him, her lip caught between her teeth. He could see the internal battle playing out in her head—protocol versus the hot guy in front of her. Predictably, protocol lost.

“Floor 13, room 304,” she whispered, her cheeks flushed.

“Thank you, baby,” Jungkook replied with a charming smile, slipping a hundred-dollar bill into her tip jar before walking toward the elevator. Minju’s breath caught again as he turned and walked toward the elevator, not looking back once.

As the elevator doors slid shut with a soft chime, Jungkook’s facade dropped, and he let out a small, amused scoff. He thought that was going to cost him at least a couple grand.

The elevator hummed softly as it ascended. When the monotone voice announced floor 13, the doors slid open, revealing a quiet, plush carpeted hallway. Jungkook strode out, his eyes narrowing slightly as he made his way to room 304.

“Jungkook-seonsaengnim?” Dohyun’s voice cracked in surprise when he opened the door, eyes widening at the unexpected sight of his boss. “I’m on leave, sir, is everything oka—”

The words barely left his mouth before Jungkook’s fist connected sharply with the side of his jaw. The force of the blow sent Dohyun crashing to the ground, his head snapping back as he sprawled out, half-dangling outside the doorway. His feet splayed awkwardly on the floor, barely moving. Jungkook nudged his limp body inside with the toe of his polished shoe, stepping over him as he calmly closed the door behind him with a soft click.

“Everything’s fine, Dohyun.” Jungkook’s voice was casual, almost too calm, as he crouched down to level his gaze with the man on the floor. Dohyun was clutching his jaw, eyes wide with terror, blinking back tears as he struggled to sit up. Confusion mixed with fear spread across his face, trembling as he tried to find his words.

Jungkook tilted his head, a slow, cold smirk pulling at his lips. "Great, actually," he continued, the menace in his voice unmistakable. His eyes flickered over the man on the ground as if he were nothing more than something to be dealt with. “And it’ll be even better in a second.”

TODAY

The soft click of heels against tile echoed down the pristine hall of level nineteen. Jimin and Hobi were either side of you, all three of you deep in conversation about Jimin's latest epic love saga.

“And afterward, we went and got ice cream,” Jimin sighed, a dreamy smile spreading across his lips. “And he even paid for my cone. I think he’s the one.”

You and Hobi shared a knowing look before turning back to him. Hobi giggled, shaking his head, while you leaned your head on Jimin’s shoulder, smiling warmly. “I’m sure he is, honey. Was it at least a double scoop?”

Jimin beamed, nodding enthusiastically, but his excitement faltered the second he caught the teasing smirks plastered on your and Hobi’s faces. His expression morphed into a pout as he narrowed his eyes at the both of you.

"Whatever. Just because you—" Jimin shot a pointed look at Hobi, "—don’t sleep with anyone more than once because of your deep-rooted commitment issues, and you—" he turned his accusing gaze to you, "—have found the only person in Seoul as crazy and fucked up as you to spend the rest of your life with, doesn’t make Min Yoongi any less of a perfect prince."

Hoseok grunted, crossing his arms dramatically as you broke into laughter. "You're not wrong," you hummed with a shrug, right as Hobi muttered defensively, "I don't have commitment issues."

It was Hobi’s turn to receive knowing looks from both of you before he sighed, dramatically slowing his pace as you reached the entrance of the meeting room. "Whatever, you guys suck."

Snickering softly, the three of you stepped inside, bowing politely to the handful of executives already seated around the large meeting table. As usual, the three of you were early, but you noticed that a few others had already claimed their seats. Unfortunately, there weren’t three consecutive spots left for you all to sit together.

Your gaze immediately went to the head of the table, the seat reserved for the CEO, which was still empty. You knew Jungkook was in a meeting with Kim Namjoon that had run overtime, so their arrival was indefinitely delayed.

The seat closest to the CEO’s chair—Namjoon’s usual spot—was unoccupied, but the one on the opposite end, typically claimed by you, Jimin, or Hobi, was already taken. You felt your blood boil when you saw Heejin, the newly appointed temp head of Communications while Sana Minatozaki was on maternity leave, sitting there comfortably, scrolling through a document on her laptop.

Jimin caught your eye, noticing Heejin as well, and gestured toward the chair next to her, silently offering it to you. You just shook your head, flashing a small smile as if to say, no fucking thanks. He and Hobi settled into two seats beside each other, leaving you to scan the rest of the room for an available spot.

Your options weren’t great.

A middle seat between Hailey and Vernon—two relentless chatterboxes from levels three and four—caught your eye. You grimaced immediately at the thought of being dragged into their non-stop, ping-pong conversation about god knows what. They could probably talk about fucking office supplies for hours if given the chance.

Then your gaze shifted to the next option: a seat next to Kang Minho, the scruffy finance head. As expected, he was already twirling a cigar between his fingers, his eyes twitching in clear defiance of the new no-smoking rule in meetings. The urge to light it was practically vibrating off him.

You sighed.

That left the only bearable choice: a seat next to Oh Sehun, the head of Technology and Innovation. He was known to be quiet and professional, and most importantly, he's least likely to annoy you.

Resigned, you pulled the chair next to Sehun, placing your laptop and phone on the table in front of you. He glanced over with a polite smile, nodding in greeting. You returned the gesture, settling into your seat and immediately focusing on starting up your laptop.

The room settled into a quiet lull, with only a few hushed conversations breaking the silence. Most of the attendees were either finishing up side discussions or preparing for the meeting as they trickled in. As your laptop booted up, you instinctively picked up your phone, slipping it under the table. Your fingers moved quickly, opening the location app and tapping on Jungkook’s name. The pin was still loading when you heard a throat clear beside you.

Oh, here we fucking go.

“Y/N-ssi?”

You locked your phone and turned toward Sehun with a forced smile. "Yes, Sehun-ssi. How can I help?"

His smile widened slightly, a little shy. "Uh, I just wanted to say… congratulations. Your promotion to Head of Operations & Efficiency—it's no small feat. Not an easy title to earn or handle. But I've seen your work, and it's… admirable. Truly."

You almost frowned, caught off guard. That was… really sweet.

"Oh," you replied, your voice softening. "Thank you, Sehun-ssi, that’s very kind of you. I appreciate it a lot." You smiled genuinely this time. "And I’ve heard a lot about you, too. Running your department is also no easy task, and you do it well."

Sehun grinned, his head dipping slightly as his ears turned a bit red. "Ah, thank you so much," he murmured, looking humbled. "I’ve learned a lot from our CEO, Jungkook-seonsaengnim. He’s incredible. One day, I hope to have my own business and run it just like him."

You bit the inside of your lip, warmth swelling in your chest at the compliment to your man. "He is," you agreed softly, your smile a little more private this time. "And I’m sure you will."

Sehun’s lip was caught between his teeth as his eyes seemed to linger just below yours, but before you could say anything else, the sound of footsteps echoed through the room, drawing your attention. You turned toward the entrance.

Jungkook and Namjoon strode into the room, their presence immediately commanding attention. Namjoon greeted the department heads with a dimply smile, but your eyes locked onto Jungkook. His gaze, however, wasn’t on you—it was unwaveringly fixed on Sehun’s reddened face. A flash of something dark crossed his features, and he didn’t spare you or anyone else a glance as he took his seat at the head of the table.

Straightening in your chair, you swallowed the scoff that rose in your throat. He didn’t even acknowledge you, his attention already on the file in front of him as he flipped through it silently. Namjoon’s eyes flickered over Jungkook’s hardened expression before realizing the CEO wouldn’t be opening the meeting. Clearing his throat, Namjoon stood up and took over.

"Good morning, everyone. Glad to see you all here," Namjoon greeted, flashing a bright, toothy smile. The room responded with polite murmurs. "We’ve got a full agenda today, so let’s start with—"

About thirty minutes into the meeting, you were still focused on your notes. Namjoon was wrapping up his discussion on a new marketing campaign strategy that had piqued your interest. You were typing up the last few points when Jungkook’s deep voice suddenly rang out. Your body reacted instantly, muscles relaxing after hearing him finally speak after what felt like hours of his silence.

"Sehun," Jungkook called out, his tone firm and commanding, and your head snapped up instinctively, surprised to find that Sehun had leaned over, perhaps about to whisper something to you while Namjoon was speaking.

"Did you have a question about the campaign strategy?" Jungkook’s voice was measured, but you felt the tension behind it.

Sehun jerked back, startled by the sudden attention. "Oh, I- no, sir, I was just—"

"Conversing with your colleague while your superior was in the middle of speaking," Jungkook finished for him, his dark gaze unwavering, pinning the tech head in place. "I'm sure I’d be more than capable of answering any questions you have regarding the project. Go ahead."

It wasn’t a suggestion—it was an order.

Sehun swallowed nervously, eyes flicking down to his laptop as if it held the answers. Then, foolishly, he glanced at you, probably hoping for some kind of lifeline. You could only offer him an apologetic look, knowing your boyfriend's ways.

Jungkook’s jaw clenched visibly, his irritation evident as he barked out, "Do you need her to speak for you?" His fist tightened on the table beside him, knuckles paling. "Are you that incompetent?"

Your gaze slowly shifted from Sehun, who was visibly shaken, to your boyfriend, who was fucking seething. You sighed softly, dropping your gaze back to your laptop, fingers resuming their typing with a small shake of your head.

And then his voice came again. A little softer, but still pissed. "Did you have something to add, Y/N?"

Your fingers froze mid-typing. The room fell into an uncomfortable silence. You could feel every pair of eyes turning to you. Everyone knew about your relationship with Jungkook. It wasn’t a secret, but it wasn’t exactly something you had announced over the firm intercom, either. Most of the department heads were aware and knew better than to draw attention to it, but there were still some, like poor Sehun, who hadn’t quite pieced it together yet.

When you looked up, Jungkook’s dark eyes were locked on you. From your peripheral, you saw Jimin and Hobi exchanging wide-eyed glances, while Heejin’s gaze flickered nervously between you and the CEO.

Every fiber in your bratty being wanted to fight back, make him repeat himself, ask him what the fuck he was trying to prove by putting you on the spot in front of a room full of department heads. But the professional in you won out, forcing you to bite your tongue.

You shook your head calmly. "No, sir." The silence was deafening. You turned to Namjoon, whose eyes were carefully trained on his papers. "My apologies, Namjoon-seongsaengnim," you said. "We didn’t mean to interrupt you. Please, continue."

Namjoon nodded appreciatively, sending you a brief smile before moving on. “Right, as I was saying…”

The meeting finally wrapped up, and everyone began packing up their things. Some were quicker than others to vacate the room, with Kang Minho leading the pack, cigar already halfway to his lips, lighter flicking in agitation.

You closed your laptop with a little more force than intended, irritation still simmering under your skin. Grabbing your jacket off the back of your chair, you stood, feeling Sehun shifting beside you, fumbling to gather his things. You could almost sense the apology hanging on the edge of his lips, and you sighed internally, praying he wouldn’t try and engage in conversation with you again.

Jimin and Hobi walked over, ready to leave, but your attention was drawn to Heejin’s voice as she spoke to Jungkook. Your movements slowed as you listened.

“Thank you for such a great meeting, seonsaengnim,” she said sweetly, her fingers tapping the edge of her laptop.

You clenched your jaw slightly, the inside of your cheek caught between your teeth. Namjoon had handled ninety percent of the presentation—what the fuck was she even thanking him for?

“I actually had a few concerns for the Communications department that I was hoping to run by you—"

"Take them up with your superior," Jungkook replied, not even bothering to glance her way as he slipped his phone into his pocket and made his way toward the door.

Heejin smiled, clearly undeterred as she closed her laptop and followed after him. "But you are my superior," she giggled. Your brows furrowed as you turned to look at her follow after your man like a lost puppy. Your grip on your laptop tightened.

Jungkook sighed, forgetting she had even been promoted recently. Still, he didn’t glance at her. “Make an appointment with one of my assistants, Heejin,” he said, his voice dripping with impatience. “I have somewhere to be. Excuse me, please.”

Excuse me, please? You rolled your eyes. Why doesn't he just tell her to get on her knees and get to work?

Heejin nodded, still all smiles as she left the room, laptop clutched to her chest. You gathered your things and fell into step with Jimin and Hobi. Jungkook paused near the end of the table, his gaze boring into you, but you ignored the stare, slipping between your friends as you headed out.

“Y/N-ssi,” Sehun’s voice cut through the air as he jogged to catch up with the three of you.

You sucked your teeth, glancing down at your watch. Fifteen minutes until your production conference. Enough time to grab something to eat since you’d skipped breakfast—thanks to Jungkook’s insistence on christening yet another room in your new house this morning. The laundry room, this time. And as it turns out, sex on top of a dryer was a lot better and less uncomfortable than you’d expected.

Jimin took your laptop from your hands, giving you a soft smile. "I’ll drop this off at your office. Hobi and I are heading that way."

You nodded in thanks, turning back to Sehun, only to catch Jungkook’s eyes glaring at you from behind the tech leader’s frame. His brows were furrowed, a silent question written all over his face—what the fuck are you doing?

Ignoring your fuming boyfriend, you refocused on Sehun. "You alright?" you asked.

Sehun nodded quickly. "Yeah, I just—" He started to say more but stopped abruptly, his body stiffening as if he could feel Jungkook's glare on the back of his neck. Turning, he blinked, clearly startled to see the CEO still there. "Oh—hi, sir. Once again, I’m so sorry about—"

"It’s okay, Sehun-ssi," you cut him off, drawing his attention back to you. "I need to grab something to eat. Is this important?"

Sehun shifted nervously. "Ah, well... it can wait." His ears were going red again. "How much time do you have? Did you want to stop by the cafe on level 10 before your conference? I was heading there anyway—"

At that, Jungkook’s head snapped up, his gaze zeroing in as he pushed himself off the table. You stepped around Sehun, positioning yourself between him and your clearly furious boyfriend.

"No, thank you, Sehun. I’ll catch you later, okay?" You kept your tone light, ignoring the fact that you had definitely not told him that you were on your way to a conference.

Sehun, still a bit confused, turned slightly to see what had you moving so quickly. And that’s when he saw it—Jungkook’s dark, cold glare burning holes through him. Before Sehun could stutter another word, Jungkook’s eyes flicked down to you, noting the goosebumps on your arms. He grabbed the jacket from your hands and silently made you slip your arms into it.

That’s when the realization hit Sehun like a fucking brick.

His face went ghostly pale, and you could visibly see him swallow nervously. "Oh my god… are you—are you two—"

You nodded simply, sliding your arms into the jacket as Jungkook remained silently brooding behind you.

"I—I am so—sir, I’m so sorry! I would never—"

"Sehun-ssi, it’s fine." You gave him a polite, almost bored smile. "Let's talk later."

Sehun barely managed a shaky nod before he bolted, red-faced and flustered, out of the room.

"You’re such a jealous psycho," you muttered under your breath, turning to face Jungkook, who was still fuming quietly. You puckered your lips for a kiss.

Jungkook just glared, his eyes flicking to your lips for a moment before leaning down to give you a quick, soft peck. You frowned, leaning in for another, but he pulled back, narrowing his eyes at you.

"Why’d you sit there?" he asked, glancing down at your jacket, noticing you hadn’t done up the top two buttons. When he reached to fasten them, you smacked his hand away, refusing to let him make you look like a nun.

"Because your girlfriend was in my usual seat," you shot back, poking him in the stomach before turning on your heel and heading toward the door.

"And I’m the jealous one?" he muttered, flicking the lights off as he followed behind you.

"Yes," you hummed, walking down the now-empty hall, clear of all the departmental seniors and visitors.

You reached the elevator when Jungkook’s arms wrapped around your waist from behind, his head resting comfortably in the crook of your neck. You smiled, pressing a kiss to his warm cheek as you reached out to press the down arrow.

"That poor boy almost pissed himself because of you."

"I felt like I was very soft on him," Jungkook shrugged, taking a deep inhale of your honey scented skin before pressing a kiss to your neck and standing upright. His hands slipped under your jacket to rest on your belly over your blouse, his fingers grazing your skin gently. "Could’ve been a lot worse."

You chuckled, rolling your eyes, but couldn’t resist the urge to look up at his adorable pout. You puckered your lips again, and this time, he gave in, leaning down for a proper kiss. Spinning in his arms, his hands fell naturally to rest on your ass as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss.

A soft moan escaped your lips when his tongue slid between them, licking into your mouth in the way only he could. It felt like only milliseconds before the elevator dinged, snapping you back to reality. You reluctantly pulled away, biting his lip gently before spinning around to face the opening doors.

The elevator revealed Kim Namjoon, standing there with his head tilted, eyebrow raised. "Jungkook-ah, the board is waiting. Answer your fuckin' phone, man," the CCO huffed, gesturing for you both to step inside with a hurried wave of his hand.

You smiled at Namjoon and walked into the elevator, Jungkook right behind you. His hand found its way back to your belly, rubbing absentmindedly as you hit the button for level 12.

Namjoon scrolled through something on his phone, snickering. "What time are you planning on getting there tonight, Kook? The RSVP says 6, but they don’t start serving drinks until 8, so I'll be there around 9," he chuckled.

Your ears perked up at the mention of the event. You fiddled with Jungkook’s tattooed fingers on your stomach, glancing up at him as you waited for him to respond.

"For what?" Jungkook asked, not looking up from his phone.

You almost frowned at his response. He already told you he had a sponsorship function tonight. Jungkook never forgets things like that.

Namjoon barely glanced up. "That promo celebration for the girl taking over for Sana-ssi?" He explained, locking his phone and leaning back. "Shit, I forgot if we need to bring gifts. I'll check with my assistant—"

You didn’t hear anything after that. Everything faded, the muffled sounds of the elevator blending together like white noise. Jungkook’s hand stiffened against your stomach, and that was all the confirmation you needed.

He hadn’t gotten his schedule mixed up. He knew damn well what event Namjoon was referring to. The "sponsorship function" was actually a celebration for that dirty slut from level 7, and that dirty slut from level 7 had gotten a permanent promotion, which would bring her even closer when fucking working with him.

The elevator doors slid open, and without a second thought, you shoved Jungkook’s hand off you and stormed out.

"Baby," Jungkook was immediately on your tail, ignoring Namjoon’s confused calls from behind.

"Wh— Jungkook-ah? What the fuck? Where are you going?"

"Baby, wait." Jungkook's voice was tense as he caught up to you, but when his hand reached out to grab your arm, you shoved it off aggressively.

"I’m so fucking serious right now, don’t touch me, Jungkook." You spat, whipping around to face him. He just shook his head, trying to step closer, but you put your hand up, keeping him at a distance. "I’m not fucking kidding—"

"Baby, listen to me—" he tried, his voice urgent.

"Get the fuck away from me," you snapped, digging into your pocket for your phone, your fingers trembling as you scrolled through your contacts. "God, you know I fucking hate it when you lie, and you just—" You groaned, your fist tightening around your phone as you shoved his hands off you once again.

"Who are you texting?" Jungkook frowned, trying to get a look at your phone over your shoulder.

"None of your fucking business," you spat, stepping out of his reach.

"Y/N, don't. If you're not going to let me explain—"

"My mom," you snapped sarcastically, your fingers flying across the screen as you started typing. "They finally adapted technology so you can get cell reception six feet underground now. It's great."

Jungkook scoffed, clearly unamused, but he continued following closely behind you as you started walking again. "If you can lie to me, then I can fucking lie to you, right?" you added mockingly.

He tried to grab your phone, but you dodged him, sending the message just in time. His jaw tightened when he saw the screen. "Like hell you’re sleeping at Jimin’s tonight, are you fucking crazy?"

"Well, I’m not staying in a house with a fucking liar, that’s for sure," you shot back, your tone sharp as you moved further away from him.

"You’re not staying at Jimin’s," he repeated firmly, his voice absolute.

His certainty made you laugh bitterly. "I’m staying at Jimin’s or I’m staying at Hyungwon’s. You fucking choose."

Jungkook’s fists clenched at his sides, his face hardening in disbelief. "Why the fuck would you say that, Y/N?"

"I don't have anywhere to go, Jungkook!" Your voice rose, frustration and pain bubbling to the surface. You could feel eyes on you from the staff scattered around the floor, but you didn’t care. "You are my home. I don’t have anywhere else to fucking—"

Jungkook’s expression softened when your voice broke, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. He stepped closer, his hands slipping under your jacket, palms smoothing down your hips. "Then don't fucking go, baby. Just don’t go anywhere, please. Don’t go to Jimin’s." He begged.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt the warmth of his hands, the familiar comfort of his body close to yours. His face rested in the crook of your neck, and despite your anger, you found yourself leaning into him slightly, knowing full well that getting to your conference on time now was just a lost cause.

"Tell me why you lied then," you mumbled, your voice quieter, your sniffles betraying you.

Jungkook pulled back, his thumbs swiping gently under your eyes, wiping the tears away before they could fully form. His fingers brushed under your nose as he wiped away the dribble there. "Because I knew it would upset you. We’ve been doing so well in our new place, baby—I didn’t want anything to ruin it." His voice was soft, almost pleading. "I’m so sorry, Y/N. I was only going to make an appearance and come home straight away."

You studied his face, your own expression softening despite the anger still bubbling inside you. You understood him, you really did. But you still hated when he lied. "Then why didn’t you just ask me to go with you?" Your voice wavered, doubt creeping in despite yourself. "Did you... not want to be seen with me?"

You didn’t even know where the self-doubt was coming from. Jungkook loved you. He loved letting people know you were his. He didn’t care who was around when he kissed you or rested a hand on your body, claiming you without shame. But something about Heejin… She got under your skin in a way that you couldn’t describe. Maybe it was because she’d been here longer, known him longer. She was going to be in meetings with him now—department head meetings, one-on-one meetings. The thought alone made you feel sick.

Jungkook sighed, his hands cupping your cheeks, and pressed two quick, soft kisses on your lips. "Don’t say dumb shit like that," he murmured, his voice soft but firm. He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking with yours. "I wanted to have a joint office, but you said that was unprofessional or whatever." He rolled his eyes, giving you a little smirk.

You blinked, hugging your arms around yourself, stepping back a little. "Then why?" Your voice was quieter now, laced with the confusion and hurt you couldn’t hide. "Why didn’t you want me to go? I’ve gone with you to plenty of functions."

Jungkook hesitated, and you felt the tension settle back into the air between you. His silence weighed heavy, and that familiar twist of anxiety and anger began to gnaw at you again.

"It’s because of Hyungwon, isn’t it?" you asked, even though you already knew the answer. "You didn’t want me to go because people from his firm are going to be there, and he could be too, right?"

Jungkook’s jaw clenched, his eyes hardening slightly as he averted your gaze. He didn’t need to say anything. His silence confirmed everything.

You let out a short, bitter laugh, shaking your head. Not only did he keep you away from a party celebrating the one woman you couldn’t stand the most when it came to him, but he also made sure you didn’t go because of the one man he had a problem with the most when it came to you was attending.

"Fucking hypocrite," you muttered, stepping further back from him, your stomach turning in disgust.

"Baby, it’s not like that—" he started, his tone filled with urgency.

"Then what is it like, Jungkook?" Your voice rose again, frustration spilling out as you threw your hands up. "You didn’t tell me about the party because you knew it would piss me off that it’s for Heejin. But you also didn’t want me to go because there was a chance Hyungwon could be there! So, what? I can’t go because you have a problem, but I’m supposed to sit at home and wait for you like a fucking housewife while you go to a party for a bitch that you know I can’t stand? How the fuck does that make sense?"

Jungkook’s face was a mixture of guilt and frustration. He took a step toward you, but you held up your hand again, stopping him in his tracks.

"God, can you just go away?" you spat, your voice trembling slightly as you felt the tears begin to well up again. Shaking your head, you started to walk away.

"Baby," Jungkook grunted, his frustration growing as he followed you.

"No, Jungkook. I need space. Seriously." You didn’t even turn around, your voice sharp as you neared your office.

"We don’t do space. That’s not how we work," he argued, right behind you.

"Well, maybe we need to start doing space," you snapped, reaching for the door handle.

Before you could pull the door open, Jungkook grabbed your wrist, spinning you around to face him. His eyes were intense, wild, like he was barely keeping himself together. "If you keep walking away from me, I'm going to follow you into that conference room and make you sit in my fucking lap during your entire presentation."

The seriousness in his voice made you want to roll your eyes, but you kept your expression blank, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response.

Jungkook’s jaw clenched when you didn’t answer, but he didn’t stop. "I can’t have you two in the same room, Y/N." His voice was low, almost dangerous, as if just saying Hyungwon’s name triggered something in him.

You just blinked, still silent.

“If I see him anywhere near you, I’ll kill him.” Jungkook said it simply, like it was just another fact. “I wouldn’t regret it. But they probably won’t let you stay in my cell with me, would they, baby?” His brows furrowed, head tilting as he asked, like he was genuinely curious to know the answer.

a/n i cut it here because the rest is nawttt edited at all and very rough 😬 but any takers on a part 3 ??!!?! just give me 6 months and it's all yours xx

[darkbluekies]

The OCs search history <3

Silas:

"How to take care of ptsd in partner"

"How to make someone stop crying"

"How to make your partner forgive you"

"Best restaurant"

"Dark web"

"Diamond ring/neckace/earrings/bracelet"

"Best steak"

"How to stop people from gawking at my partner"

"Protein powder"

"Best soap to wash away blood from skin"

"Best detergent to wash away blood from clothes"

"Best cleaning supplies to wash away blood from walls"

"Best spray to keep blood smell away"

"Five star restaurant booking"

"Why are my clothes thrown out the window?"

Dr Kry:

"Morphine"

"Book series without explicit scenes"

"Healthy recipes"

"How to frame someone for murder"

"Am I secretely perverted"

"Forged signatures without watermark"

"Protein shakes"

"What happens if you mix poision with alcohol"

"Puzzles"

"PG-13 rated movies without angst or horror"

"Plushies"

"Needles"

"How to become an author?"

"How to know if your strict childhood has had any impact on your mental health"

"How to get over your phobia for germs?"

"Strong caffeine drinks"

King Edmund (let's pretend he has internet for a hot minute):

"Is it really dictatorship if I let people complain"

"Ptsd test"

"Why doesn't my wife talk to me?"

"Nightmare analysis"

"How to cheer up an angry wife"

"Can a queen rule over a king?"

"How much alcohol can you drink before you get knocked out?"

"Beatiful dresses for a queen"

"Jewelry for a queen"

"Are public executions a good fear tactic?"

"How do women's anatomy work?"

"Can you punish theft by death?"

"Can you cook rats?"

"Why are little kids scared of me?"

Jerry:

"Is drinkable bleach a thing????"

"What to do if your s/o is a fucking loser"

"Is saying 'you're an idiot' synonyms for 'i love you'?"

"Guns"

"Knives"

"Sexy outfits that doesn't make me look like a fucking clown"

"How to ask someone out on a date without sounding like a loser"

"Impressive date ideas"

"Alcohol that will make me forget today, yesterday, tomorrow and a week forward"

"Spare parts to motorcycle"

"Why am I so fucking cool?????"

"Why am I so fucking miserable?????"

"How to hug your s/o without it being cringe"

"How to make your motorcycle go much faster?"

"Boxing gloves"

"40 boxes of *your favorite snack*"

Hedwig:

"Aestethic wedding ideas"

"Is baby trapping illegal?"

"Is nepotism really that bad?"

"How to guilt trip someone"

"Utterly obsessed with my partner"

"How to be a good kisser"

"Dark web"

"Buy hitmen"

"How to bankruptcy someone"

"How to impress your partners parents"

"Best flowers for dates"

"Best hotel resorts for couples"

"Can you become a super model without school grades"

"Love poems"

"Poison"

"*your adress*"

"Best perfumes to seduce someone"

"*your instagram*"

"*your name*"

"How do I know if I'm blocked on social media"

[bluesidez]

Hi I saw your req open and I flew here ehe-

Hear me out please 😭

Miguel is a geneticist (someone who works around denetics) and sometimes he doesn't understand the programs that he 'made' and Lyla has to help him. That makes Peter B. and the spider-teens very suspicious of him.

What's even more suspicious is that once a month he leaves the Spider HQ to who-knows-where.

After some stalking investigating, they find out that every time that he leaves; he goes to a park to meet [Reader], that is the one who helped with all the tech he has at HQ.

When he returns the next day, he is confronted about it and explains that [Reader] is an old friend and he trusts them with the Multiverse secret. However Peter B. and the others obviously saw the mutual attraction between both of them so they help out Miguel confess to [Reader].

Fluff + a little suggestive with Gn Reader please ^^

Anyway drink lots of water and keep yourself healthy!! ❤❤

[Undercover Lover]

lab tester: @hikaru-sama 🩻

pairing: Miguel O’Hara x gn!Reader

summary: Miguel is willing to stop the world for you, you just want to be the small part of his world that makes it better.

content warning: fluff, longing from reader and Miguel, the spider-teens are all menaces (as in they all have chismosavirus), Peter is Peter, a little suggestive but nothing crazy, I also made Miguel’s relationship with the teens pretty adorable (Papa Miggy 🥺)

word count: 5.8k, halfway proofread (don't ask...)

a/n: This request is not outlandish in any way, btw. It's very cute! I hope you don’t mind that I added a little extra to the programming aspect. THANK YOU TO THE MIGGY SERVER FOR YOUR HELP AS ALWAYS! I have been wallowing in the chats for who knows how long. I thought it would be cute and funny. Also, I've been doing better with my water intake! I hope you're proud. 🥺

Miguel blew out a tired breath, eyes blurry after staring at the same set of files all day.

“Lyla, could you replay the scan from this morning?”

“I don’t know, can I?”

Miguel frowned as his eyes panned to the flickering yellow glow, “Are we doing this right now?”

“Doing what?” Lyla posed with her head tilted in her hand.

“Lyla. Replay the scan from Earth 450-”

“Here’s what I found on scams on 4chan.”

“I said scans not scams- what are you talking about? And what is 4chan?”

Lyla switched to a pose that mimicked The Thinker, her heart-shaped glasses morphing into ones made of stone.

Miguel shifted his weight to one side, hands on his hips as he watched Lyla float around his desk.

“Pull up the LYrate Lifeform Approximation code.”

Lyla snickers, glasses shifting to match the marks of a clown’s face, “You don’t know how to work that, buddy.”

“I didn’t ask you to tell me that, I asked you to-”

Lyla opens the file before he can finish his spiel.

“Now, what?” Lyla whispers with glee. “Gonna hack into the motherboard? Break down the firewall?”

Miguel ignored her and read through the constant formulas, coding that he's never even seen before becoming longer and longer.

Lyla popped up right in his peripheral view, pulling out one of the smaller codes to highlight, “What’s this one mean?”

Miguel squints at the line, “Something about how you respond to tone?”

“It’s my hair color,” Lyla’s voice is high and giggly like she was anticipating his completely wrong answers. “What about this one?”

“I, I don’t know. Your jacket?”

“Voice modulator,” the code danced around him as Lyla switched her voice to something of an old Hollywood star. “You’re not very good at this, tuts.”

Miguel felt a strange chill as Lyla walked around with a long white dress instead of a jacket and her brown hair in curls falling down her back. She laughed at him some more as she pulled her now, thick-rimmed triangle-shaped sunglasses to the top of her head.

“Lyla-”

Miguel’s watch jolted, a notification blaring at him. He answered with haste, mind frantic.

“Miguel? Is something up with Lyla, because I asked her to find this Mysterio’s dimension, and she started playing some wrestler’s theme song instead,” Jess huffed, throwing the villain's body over the back of her motorcycle. “Now, he won’t stop singing it.”

Miguel felt his head start to pound, “Something’s going on with her. She’s not functioning at her normal state.”

“You’re never functioning at a normal state,” Lyla sighed dramatically, arm over her head with wind blowing around her. “Always so tense!”

“Oh my god?” Jess’s eyes went wide as she took in the Lyla at Miguel’s side. “Why does she sound like that?”

“I’m not sure, but I’m shutting her down until I can fix it. Just send the Mysterio back here.”

“You can’t turn me off, Miggy! Don’t you want me to sing for you?”

“Yeah, hurry up and log her off. She’s freaking me out.” Jess ended the call with a disgusted face.

With her gone, the room was filled with Miguel’s thoughts and Lyla humming and brushing her hair in a vintage mirror, something she would have never cared to do on a regular day.

Looking at the lines of coding in front of him, there was no way he was going to find what was happening.

He reached across his desk to a new screen, searching for a certain folder. Miguel laughed to himself as he read the title.

Don’t open unless it’s ABSOLUTELY crucial to your health…and well-being. .3.

Miguel would consider this a crisis.

He tapped the folder, watching as a sprout of several different colors surrounded him. He shifted it through the lights, some of them being pictures of you and him, some of them being animated GIFs of cats, and others being helpful guides to small technological problems. He kept searching until he found a yellow tab that read “LYLA? LIGHTS OUT!”

With one click, Lyla went from twirling and singing in heels to being dormant, gone to the Spider Society. Letting out the breath he was holding, he shifted the files back into the folder and geared up to make the announcement.

“Attention Spiders,” Miguel held his watch up to his mouth. “Lyla will be down for maintenance for a couple of hours.”

He could hear the collective groan from the society all the way in his office.

“And I will try my best to get her up and running for future missions. Until then, please send any anomalies directly to Margo and stick to local crimes as well as protecting your respective neighborhoods.”

As soon as he ended the announcement, Margo was flooding his watch with back-to-back memes. Miguel remained confused watching a little girl in a cowboy hat complain to her grandpa while he dismissed her.

“I can send someone else down there to help you.”

“no because if anyone breaks my tech, it’s coming out of YOUR 🫵🏾 paycheck”

“Everything comes out of my paycheck.”

“whatever dad”

“?”

Perturbed, but not wanting to waste any more time, Miguel locked his office and called your number.

Two rings and you were picking up the phone.

“Hey, Spider-ider!”

“Hi,” Miguel refused to admit how the nickname sounded cute coming from you. “I need your help with something.”

“No ‘How are you?’ or ‘Sorry I haven’t checked on you in forever.’ Just straight to business, huh?”

“Sorry,” Miguel collected himself. “How are things? Did you manage to get the job with that tech company?”

“Why, thank you for asking, Miguel! I’m pretty good. Things are different! I did end up getting that job, but the manager is eerily creepy, so I’m trying my best to pile up the meanest HR case or try to wiggle my way into a new department. So far, the former is slowly but surely working, not sure if my sanity can take much more. How are you?”

Miguel's eyebrows shifted a bit, “You know you can just call for my help if anything goes wrong, right?”

“Miguel, you’re protecting so many people. More than I can even fathom, actually. I’m not going to ask you to stop to check on me.”

You should. He’d drop everything.

“It wouldn’t take much from my end, I could just-”

“Miguel.”

He bit his cheek, knowing you wanted to move the conversation along.

“How are you?” you asked again, tone back to normal.

“I’m neutral. Same thing as always. Now, it’s just that Lyla was really unbearable today.”

“Unbearable how?”

Miguel went into every detail, pulling in some last-minute reports from other Spiders that managed to use her before he shut her down.

“So you’re telling me she glitched out, wore an alligator head, and integrated ‘Flat Fuck Friday’ into every conversation?”

“Well, that was just one of the many cases. Is that, is that all you heard?”

“No, I got it,” you fixed your face to try and hold back your laugh. “It sounds like she hit her funny bone.”

Miguel looked up at the ceiling and back at you, “This is serious.”

“And I’m being as serious as I can be!”

“She’s causing all of this trouble because of a funny bone.”

You laugh at Miguel’s deadpan tone, “Ok, so technically it’s called a laughing virus. It’s been hitting a lot of major search engines for some reason, but Lyla is the closest to human-like AI there is, so it’s a funny bone!”

“As stupid as that is, I need your help to come fix it.”

“Aw, you need me to come check your work?”

Miguel avoided your gaze, “There is no work. I couldn’t tell one line from the next.”

“But Miguel, you were doing so good last time. What happened?”

“I-I don’t know, I thought I had one right but I mixed up tones with shades.”

“That’s still on the same playing field, so you got something right! That’s good progress, Miguel.”

“Mm.”

“I’ll be there soon. Don’t do anything crazy, although you’ll probably just loom over the desk dramatically.”

Miguel opened his mouth to rebuttal but you already ended the call with a laugh.

With truly nothing but his thoughts, he hurried to clean his space. There were a few loose wires and an empty box from the cafeteria scattered around.

By the time you were tapping the code into his office door, his platform was back on the ground and he’d just swept up some dust that managed to build in the corner of the room.

“Don’t clean up now just because I’m here,” you watched as his shoulders jumped a bit at your voice.

“I’m not,” Miguel huffs and sets the broom against the wall.

“Sure.”

Miguel comes closer to you with his hands on his hips.

You were probably the main reason that Lyla was the way she was, sarcastic and immature.

The only difference was Miguel could mute Lyla or switch modes for some peace. For you? It was non-stop. The only way he knew how to get you to stop was a method that’s been crowding his dreams ever since he met you.

He saw your lips moving at a mile per minute, but nothing was really reaching his ears.

They looked so soft, so perfect. He wondered if he should just let the society function on its own for just a few more hours.

“Miguel!” You waved your hands in front of him. “Lyla being down has really stressed you out, huh? You’re unfocused.”

He cleared his throat, “I still have a lot of work to do.”

“Well, let’s get to it!”

Miguel moved so you could walk to his desk, heart racing.

Whatever it was you were about to try to teach him wasn’t going to stick. He just knew it.

“Hey, Miguel! You know, I was wondering if we could implement some type of spider-baby daycare? MJ is pretty busy these days,” Peter strided into Miguel’s office with a wiggly Mayday strapped to his chest.

The platform was down, but the serious figure was nowhere to be found.

“Miguel?”

Peter tried to feel him out, but there’s no way anyone could miss Miguel in plain sight.

“Hm,” Peter put two fingers out for Mayday grab. She squealed glee, taking one finger to chew on. “If I were a Miguel, where would I be?”

He pondered through the halls, eventually finding himself at the entrance of the cafeteria. Mayday looked up almost as if she was disappointed.

“I need fuel to think!”

Peter ran down the line grabbing his usual: a 2099 burger, a large fry, and a medium cola, he’s dieting!

At the end of the line, a familiar voice called his name.

“Hey, kiddo! How’s it going?” Peter made his way to the table occupied by the younger spider crew.

Miles squinted at him, “Not a kid, but it’s going good! Have you seen Miguel? He was supposed to be training me an hour ago, but he’s not answering his watch.”

“Funny that you say that,” Peter stuffed his mouth with a handful of fries. “Went to his office and he wasn’t there.”

“What is with him and disappearing lately? It’s not like him,” Gwen mumbled. “I was supposed to report to him not too long ago and he wasn’t here.”

“Time is an enigma,” Hobie was tuning his guitar. “Glad he’s finally taking advantage of it instead of chatting about doomsday.”

“True, but he missed part of the big party we planned three months ago, too,” Pavitr supplied.

The table stopped and stared at Pav with various deadpan looks.

“What? He promised he’d try my special dish! He never breaks our promises.”

“He did pile a load of work on me when Lyla broke. Usually, he would come down and help me, but he said he was busy fixing her,” Margo turned to Peter.

The table sat and pondered for just a second then the teens started spouting out nonsense.

“He’s retiring!”

“He’s going to give HQ up.”

“He’s not going to another universe again, right?”

“He’s finally taking breaks.”

“He’s dying!”

Again, the table stopped to look at Pavitr.

“False alarm?”

“Look,” Peter held his hands up. “I don’t think it’s any of that.”

“What makes you so sure?” Gwen sounded nervous.

“Uh, he would tell me!”

Miles snickered at that which caused Mayday to fall into a fit of laughter.

“What? He’s told me things before. We’re buddies!”

“And where is your so-called buddy right now?” Margo folded her arms.

“Touche,” Peter took a giant slurp of his drink, cupping a hand under it to make sure nothing dripped on Mayday’s head. “But don’t you have a way to find him?”

“The Grumpy GPS? Yeah, but I’ve never used it because he’s always here,” Margo sighs.

“How about the next time he disappears, you let us know?” Gwen suggested.

“Love it,” Hobie fist bumps Gwen.

Miles scratched his neck, “I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

“Says the guy that snuck into the Spider Society,” Pavitr shook his head.

“That’s different.”

“Is it?” Gwen raised her eyebrow. “Margo is on Miguel-duty. We’re going to get to the bottom of this, right guys?”

Everyone nodded their head in determination.

Peter smiled. He’s still got this mentor thing down!

Margo was down near the Go-Home-Machine running Style Savvy through an emulator.

“That is so ugly,” she sang as she watched another contestant’s outfit go down the runway.

Her judging was interrupted by a dancing cartoon spider with bushy eyebrows.

She paused the game and stretched her arms to the other side of the room to give everyone a call, “Mission ‘Where is the Old Man?’ is up and running. The Grumpy GPS has been added to you guys’ gizmos. I’ve got everything ready to hack.”

“It sounds like we’re doing a lot more than tracking,” Hobie mumbled.

“But what if he actually is dying?” Gwen was lacing up her ballet shoes tight. “He would tell us, right?”

“Oh, but when I said that, it sounded crazy,” Pavitr pulled his mask down. “The double standards are appalling.”

“He could be just avoiding us. Can’t say it hasn’t happened before,” Miles’ voice was low and testy.

“He wasn’t avoiding you, Miles, he was just…projecting,” Gwen said matter-of-factly.

“Are we back on this? Sending the entire society after me is projecting. Missing our training sessions that he set up multiple times? That’s just foul.”

Gwen and Miles went back and forth, fussing over little things.

“They’re bickering again. How cute,” Pavitr stage-whispered.

“1 mission on Miles winning?” Hobie asked.

Pavitr thought for a second, “Deal.”

“You’ll probably be the most upset if he really is sick,” Gwen comments.

“Says who? I’m not worried,” Miles zipped up his jacket halfway.

“Then why are you bouncing around like that, Miles.”

Hobie sighed while Pavitr cheered.

“If you guys are done, Miguel’s moving on foot heading down 5th. I pinned a checkpoint,” Margo sent the coordinates to their watches.

“Time to go see if big man’s a killer,” Hobie yawned. “Or not.”

Peter felt the ground shake under him, hair rising on the back of his neck. His senses were screaming at him to turn around.

The thing is, if he turned around, he'd lose track on Miguel who was currently inside of the very building he was standing on top of.

The shaking grew, pebbles and vent plates rattling around him, then everything fell back into place.

One, two, thre, four pairs of feet hit the ground.

“Where’s Margo?” Peter asked, eyes not leaving the ground under him.

“In our ears singing,” Gwen groaned. “Where’s Mayday?”

“Enjoying a lovely Mommy-Daughter date with MJ and her girlfriends. Glad to have you all join me.”

“How’d you know he was going to be here?” Hobie crossed his arms.

“Like I said, buddies!”

“You waited outside of his office, didn’t you?” Pavitr pointed his finger at Peter.

Peter turned around with an offended face, “Details-schmetails!”

“Well, do you have any idea what he’s up to now?” Gwen put a hand on her hip.

“Well, we’re on the roof of an apartment, super expensive might I add, and I’m assuming his apartment is here. So maybe he’s just getting a nap in.”

“He’s on the move,” Margo’s voice buzzed through all of the teens' ears and they ran to the edge of the building, practically pushing Peter to the side.

“He’s wearing normal clothes for once,” Gwen’s voice was shocked.

“His trousers are quite nice,” Hobie nodded as if he was looking at a magazine.

“It’s so…weird,” Miles shuddered. “I’ve never seen him in anything else but his suit.”

“He wore a nice button-down to my Zoom celebration once,” Margo hummed.

“Guys?” Pavitr’s voice went high. “Where’s Peter?”

The three of them turned around to see a missing pink-robed Spider.

“Oh, come on!” Miles jumped from the roof to the next one, following the pink fluff. Miguel was walking fast on the sidewalk and Peter was keeping his trail from up high.

“Really, Peter?” Gwen swung alongside the two with the rest right on their tails. “Some mentor you are.”

“I’m a great teacher! You’re all catching on quite well,” Peter swung lower as Miguel crossed the street.

Colors flew across the sky, contrasting with the constant grays and small specs of green of Nueva York. Scaling from building to building was a lot easier with flying cars added to the mix, but it was a little odd to see wobbling vehicles every now and then.

“I think you guys should slow it down. His pace changed,” Margo noted. “He’s stopping at…a park? Didn’t know they still had those here.”

With a sturdy pull, Miles used his web to stop Peeter from running any further and the now quintet landed on the ground a safe distance from the park.

“A little dreary for a park, innit?” One eye on Hobie’s mask went higher than the other.

From where they were hiding, steel statues stood tall, tufts of greenery growing up the structure. There was more pavement than grass and the walkways contained several dips and turns.

“I think there’s some flare to it,” Miles countered. “Could use a lot more color.”

They quieted down as they watched Miguel find an empty bench. He sat down and started to rub his hands against his pants. He sat for a minute or so before he checked his watch and his leg started to bounce.

“Is he waiting on someone?” Gwen whispered.

“Oh, I wonder who it could be?” Pav whispered back.

“Why are you guys whispering?” Margo paused her side mission of trying to find any security cameras in the area.

“Doesn’t he have super-hearing?” Miles asked.

“Over this much noise?” Hobie brought the talking level back to normal. “If he doesn’t suspect us of following him, there’s no need for him to focus on us.”

After about five minutes of watching and making a game out of how many times can Miguel check his clothes, with Peter mumbling about how the pants aren’t going to get any looser with those thighs, everyone holds their breath as they watch someone take a seat next to him.

Miguel’s entire demeanor changed.

His face lit up, his back straightened, and the tension from his body fell.

“No way,” Pavitr whispered excitedly. “Guys!”

“What’s going on? I still can’t get into the security cams,” Margo’s voice was impatient.

“Miguel…has a partner?” Gwen tilted her head watching the two react. The mystery person got up to hug Miguel as he sat on the bench. He hesitated a bit, fingers twitching awkwardly before he hugged them back. “Or not.”

“If one of you could get closer, I could pitch the sound to everyone. And, I could see!”

Everyone turned to Miles.

“Why is everybody looking at me?”

“You can turn invisible, genius,” Gwen said.

He just sighed and faded from head to toe.

“How’s it going Spidey?” you lean back from your hug to look down at him. Your hands rub his shoulders. “You look nice today.”

Miguel averted his eyes, “You’re not supposed to call me that-”

“Outside of HQ or our phone calls. I know, I know. Seriously though, why are you so dressed up today? Got a hot date waiting?”

Miguel tilted his head, “Do I really look nice?”

The shirt he was wearing was barely hiding anything, any tighter and it would have been considered a muscle tee. It was tucked into some slacks with a belt that made his tiny waist even smaller. The pants hugged his thighs just enough.

“Yeah!” More than he could imagine.

“Thanks,” he smiled a bit. “There’s no hot date. Just wearing something casual.”

Your shoulders lifted at the words.

“Cool, cool.”

“You look nice, as well.”

“Really?” you looked down at your last-minute outfit. Some gray joggers you found at a thrift store and a hoodie you’re almost certain has a random bleach stain somewhere on the back. “You’re digging the midnight chic?”

“Midnight chic?”

“Yeah, an outfit you wear when going out for a snack in the middle of the night.”

Miguel pursed his lips, “It looks soft. Comfortable.”

You involuntarily gripped your bag tighter, watching Miguel’s eyes roam you from the neck down.

Lately, he’s been saying things that make your stomach flutter, from being willing to beat up your boss to fussing at you for running errands so late to remembering small details from months ago.

Only recently has his eyes began to wander. He doesn’t catch on as fast when you explain things to him. You’ve caught him staring at you while you’re looking at other things. His smile lingered a little longer. His hands were a lot more careful. Sometimes, he’d tense up when you touched him.

It was all so confusing and the feelings you’ve pushed down for years have crawled their way back up, waiting at the back of your tongue to be announced.

Still, you were just here to help him for as long as he needed you. Nothing more, nothing less.

You cleared your throat, “Okay so, you said you needed help with…Excel?”

“Mm hm,” Miguel nodded and locked his eyes back on your face.

You pulled your laptop, turning up the brightness so that the scenery wouldn’t shoot straight through the transparent device.

“So, this program is like, extremely old.”

“I know, but it's a middle ground for all of the Spiders. Anything newer would be too much for about a fourth of them and anything older would take ages for anyone to complete.”

“Got it,” you inch close enough to Miguel for his cologne to dance around you. He leaned closer to squint at your laptop and you had to will your hands to not shake like jelly. “So, the program is actually pretty simple. You just enter formulas, charts, numbers, or information in these boxes. There’s a lot more manual work than we’re used to, but it won’t take much to get used to.”

You walked Miguel through everything you’ve taught yourself over the past few days. Having him put in formulas and waiting for the result.

“Like this?”

“Almost! You’re missing a letter here.”

“Can you go over it again?”

Miguel's hands would hover over the keyboard, eyes focused and nose scrunched. Sometimes you would fight the screaming in your head and place your hands over his, helping him punch certain numbers in.

“Miguel, I think you’re messing with me. We’ve repeated this same thing on four other sheets now. I know you’re smarter than that.”

He poked his tongue in his cheek, “I’m just quadruple checking. Gotta teach this to some older people.”

“Fine,” you snort. “One more time and then I have to get ready to go.”

“Already?” Miguel turned to you. “I thought you didn’t have to be somewhere until this evening.”

“I don’t, but I can’t go looking like this. You spent 30 minutes arguing with me about the interface. Don’t you have to go back to HQ soon?”

“No.”

There was a noise behind you. You turn around to see nothing but a curved wall embedded with vines.

You put your heart to your chest, “God, I thought that was a reporter or something. Just the wind I suppose.”

Miguel’s eyes stayed planted on the empty space, “On second thought, let me walk you there. Don’t want any surprises.”

“So you don’t need me to go over this for the fifth time?”

“Nope,” Miguel grinned down at you. “I got it the first time, actually.”

“Oh my god,” you laugh as you hit his arm. He doesn’t even flinch. “You’re such a jerk.”

He looked around and got behind you to squat down, tapping on his gizmo. You could only hide so much of him. “Would a jerk swing you to your apartment?”

You look up at him equipped with his mask.

“He probably would, actually.”

“Aw,” Miguel said, red marks for eyes holding so much sadness. “Oh well.”

You yell as he yanks you up by the waist and shoots his web up to the nearest flying car.

“Miles! You almost screwed us over!” Margo did her best to wipe their trace.

“I panicked!” Miles tried to explain himself as he ran on the windows of a skyscraper.

“For what?” Gwen flipped as she connected from one structure to the next. “It was so clear that he meant that he wanted to be with whoever that was, not because he wants to quit HQ.”

“Seeing him like that feels like we met a new man,” Hobie said. His boots were light in the air. “Don’t like it.”

“You say that like he doesn’t let you get away with everything,” Pavitr said.

“Like what?”

“Like giving away food to the street cleaners.”

“Or like pasting your band stickers everywhere.”

“Or painting an ACAB mural.”

“To be fair, Miguel aligns with every single one of those things,” Hobie shrugged.

“This is great and all, but talk about a major fail,” Peter sighed. “He clearly needs a wingman.”

“I thought he did pretty good!” Miles said.

The rest of the group made a range of judging noises.

“His game definitely needs some work and he’s already on his way back to HQ, so hurry it up, guys. We need to hustle and huddle.”

Miguel was at his dock again, preparing to go check out the anomalies of the week. 

He was back doing the thing that distracted him most: thinking about you. 

Yesterday only confirmed what he’s been thinking about ever since you opened your mouth. 

He’s absolutely infatuated with you. 

At first, he thought it was a fluke, a blip in his timeline. No matter how many times your jokes made him chuckle or your smile brought him warmth, he wasn’t going to lean into it. 

But then, you called him one night and your voice brought him back from the darkness that was consuming him. Stories of your life, an exchange of nostalgia, a whisper of hope for the future, and the confirmation that he was more than the error in time that he thought he was. 

You’re something that he more than adored. 

And yet, he still hasn’t figured out how to tell you. 

He wanted more than the monthly meetups to refresh his memory on the stupid tech that kept this building running. 

Truthfully, he could call Gabriel, or worst case scenario, Xina for help, but every time he got a chance it was your name that crossed his mind. 

Miguel sighed as he started to shut some tabs down. 

“Spiders incoming,” Lyla popped up to inform him. 

Miguel saw the gaggle of teens plus Peter walking to his office. 

“Here we go,” he grumbled. 

“Turn that frown upside-down! Company is always good,” Lyla said. 

Before Peter can open his mouth Miguel is beating him to it. 

“What do you want?”

“Ouch!” Peter laughed. “Not up for a bit of family bonding time?”

“Not with you.”

“Oh c’mon, Miguel,” Peter inches forward as Miguel’s platform comes down. “Hear us out.”

“Make it quick.”

The teens all stared at Peter who looked back and forth between them. 

“Do any of you not know what the word ‘quick’ means?” Miguel asked with irritation lining his voice. 

“Well,” Miles started. 

“You see, we were thinking that you might need some help,” Gwen finishes. 

Miguel crossed his arms, “Help with what.”

“Your sad flirting,” Hobie says. 

“What?”

“You know,” Peter puts his arm around Miguel’s shoulders. “You need a wingman!”

Miguel’s frown grew deeper, “What are you talking about? Did you guys spy on me?”

Six voices overloaded Miguel’s eardrums, all explaining their part of some convoluted scheme. 

“Alright, alight! Quiet!” Miguel holds his hands out. “Margo!”

Miguel pinned his eyes to her with his eyebrows pinched. 

She danced from foot to foot, face scrunched, “We just! We were worried about you so we followed you and saw you making googly eyes at someone!” The words spilled out of her like water. 

Everyone but Hobie looked at Margo incredulously. 

“What?” she whined. “He was giving me his disappointed look. The disappointment was torturing me!”

Miguel turned and paced, pinching his nose as he whispered to himself. 

“Miguel, they could help you!” Lyla said cheerfully. “You’ve only been crushing on them for what…multiple years?”

“Lyla!”

“Multiple years? No wonder you’re always so tense. That’s pretty sad, bro,” Pavitr hummed. 

Miguel pointed his finger, “Don’t bro me.”

“Still seeking authority in his moment of weakness. Something’s got to give,” Hobie went to lean on a wall. 

“We really thought something terrible was going on,” Miles’ shoulders drop. “You also go M.I.A. whenever you have a problem.”

“We just wanted to help,” Gwen supplied. 

“Hey man, don’t blame the kids for this one, alright?” Peter’s voice lowered so only the two of them could hear it, albeit a bit useless in a room full of power-holding teens. “Say the word and we’ll stay out of it, but the kids deserve to know why you were canceling on them at least.”

Miguel looked at Peter with an exasperated face before looking at the teens, three of which looked like they were about to cry. 

He rolled his eyes to the ceiling and let out a deep breath, “I’m not sick.”

“But lovesick?” Margo asked. 

He gave her a tired look, “Yes.”

“Well why not say that instead of just disappearing?”

“They’re the one who helped make the tech for this society. Without them, there would be no updated gizmos, no updated Lyla, no new ideas. Every time I left it was to…get insight on something here. To fix broken tech.”

“And to stare in their face,” Pavitr snickered. 

Miguel panned his eyes to the floor, too embarrassed to admit it. 

“What’s the hold up in telling them how you feel?” Peter asked. “There’s no time like the present.”

“Don’t tell me yesterday was an example of what happens when you try to confess?” Gwen’s face twisted up, teeth clenched in second-hand embarrassment. 

Miguel’s silence was enough of an answer. 

“Tío,” Miles closed his eyes then looked back up dramatically with his hands out. “¡Vamo’! Sácale, llévale al cine.”

Lyla put a spotlight on Miles and held a microphone out to him while Miguel groaned. 

“Cómprale, un ramo de flores!”

“Ya no puédo mas,” Miguel swiped through the holographic mic. “Eso no va a funcionar.”

Miles slumped, “But how do you know? You haven’t even tried! Bañate, junto con el-”

“Don’t finish that song, Miles,” Miguel’s fingers went to his temples. 

“You should really listen to the lyrics-”

“Why don’t we help you win them over?” Margo stood in between the two, ending the squabble. “It’s clear that they seem to like you too.”

Miguel's eyes went softer staring at Margo’s pleading face, “How do you know?”

“We quite literally saw it,” Hobie spoke as if Miguel lost his mind. “No one ever talks to you that sweet.”

The teens all nodded their head in unison and Peter did a horrible job at hiding his laugh. 

Hobie wasn’t done, “Don’t let someone like that slip through your fingers.”

Miguel was at the park again, dressed up even more than last time. An open navy button-down was tucked into his pants, his slacks were dark gray, and he had on one of the more expensive pairs of dress shoes he owned. A chain he borrowed from Gabriel adorned his neck and he let his hair natural and loose for once. 

Under Miles’ advice, he did buy some flowers. Hobie told him to remain calm, Gwen told him to just talk, Pavitr gave him a bullet point list of what and what not to do, and Margo told him that he was the best no matter how the confession turned out.

Peter went on and on about the importance of love and relationships but Miguel was never inclined to listen to him. He did keep the comment about letting you know how much he means to you to heart, though.

He was so in his own thoughts when you showed up in front of him that he didn’t even notice you at first.

He jumped when you tapped his shoulder.

“Woah, it’s just me. And you’re super dressed up today. What’s the occasion? I’m not taking ‘casual’ for an answer this time.”

Miguel swallowed dryly, grip on the bouquet of cool-toned flowers almost enough to wilt the stems.

“Flowers?” your eyes went to his hand.

“Yeah, um.”

Just breathe, Miguel!

Margo’s perky reminders sounded off in Miguel’s head.

“I brought them for you,” Miguel placed them in your hands.

“Oh!” your face lit up. “These are beautiful. Thank you so much. I didn’t get you anything, though. I didn’t know we were bringing gifts today.”

“No need. I wanted to get them because,” Miguel felt his throat closing in. “I really, really like you.”

The smile on your face dropped as you stared at him.

“It’s been particularly hard over the past years to try to focus without you running through my thoughts and I don’t want the fear of myself or my circumstance to stop me from having a chance to be with you.”

Maybe his ears could pick up how fast your heart was going, too.

“So if you’re willing, will you please go out with me?”

You dropped the flowers and brought him in for a tight hug. 

“Are you kidding me? Of course, I’ll go out with you.”

Miguel was quick to wrap his arms around you today, burying his face in your neck, “No hesitation?”

“I’ve been wanting and honestly, waiting for one of us to make a move for years. You’re always so busy, so I was too nervous to even bother,” you look back at Miguel’s face, smiling from ear to ear.

“Sorry to keep you waiting then.”

You looked from his lips to his eyes, “Can we skip a few steps?”

“Such as?”

You pushed forward, melting into him as you slotted his lips against yours, head full of warmth and clouds. Miguel matched your pace, hand on your back as he pressed against you. When he opened your lips you pulled back, breath dancing against his. 

“Swing me to my apartment?”

Miguel smirked, “Always.”

As always, like, reblog, and COMMENT. Let me know how you guys feel! 🩵

[charliedawn]

Hi hi!

It's been a while since over requested anything but I've been keeping track of your posts and I am still in love with your writing style!!

I was wondering if I could have the slashers with a nurse wo already has 5 kids but is a single mom?

When it comes to her kids safety she turns into a complete animal like mama bear style....

Her children are smart in their own ways and are very close nit, but they always look out for their mother.

Thanks if you do this!

❤️ anon

P.s please take care of yourself! And drink lots of water and eat healthy meals!!!

Jason would be quietly protective, his natural instinct to shield others kicking in as he watched the kids play. He might not say much, but he’d be the first to step in if any danger appeared. He’d probably even enjoy the occasional moments when one of the kids quietly sits beside him, without fear, just being present.

But…Jason is afraid of children. He knows they can be cruel. So he wouldn’t approach the kids if he can help it. He would first need reassurance that they are good kids who wouldn’t be mean to him. I think your kids would be safe with him, but be careful as Jason is still a kid in his head and kids usually do not realise what they are doing until it is too late…

He might get scared.

Bo would put on his usual tough front, pretending that he’s unfazed by all the noise and mess. But over time, you’d notice him helping fix things around the house without asking, muttering under his breath that he’s “just keeping the place from falling apart.” And you might catch him joking with the older kids, giving them advice like an older brother might. He would eventually warm up to the kids. (And they would watch Cars together cause duh…cars. 🤣)

Your kids wouldn’t necessarily see him as a threat cause they know his true love is cars.

Pennywise and Penny would likely be the most chaotic around the kids, trying to keep them entertained in their unique way. They’d take turns clowning around (literally), teasing and laughing, but always making sure the kids were safe. Pennywise might grumble about all the work, but deep down, he’d appreciate the chaos that reminds him of his bond with Penny. Also, they would create illusions and Penny would even turn himself into a poney to have some fun with the kids. They would hence learn to be more friendly and to care for your family—as much as they care about you.

Freddy Krueger might pretend to be too cool to care at first, but he’d surprise you by keeping the nightmares at bay for your little ones. He’d even show them how to stand up for themselves, all while cracking jokes and making a game out of it. He’d never admit it, but being part of a family dynamic might soften him a little, especially when he sees how much he’s grown fond of the little monsters. 😆

Freddy *takes one of the kids and smiles* : "If you think you can just bat your eyes at me and pout and get me to do whatever the hell you want…you got another thing coming, kiddo."

All your kids start doing it and he pretends to get shot and fall.

"Aaaah ! Curse y’all for ganging up against me !"

Vincent Sinclair and Jason would be silently helpful, stepping in to create art for the kids or fix broken toys. They’d rarely speak, but their actions would show how much they’ve come to care for both you and your family. Both their gentle side would emerge more often when they’re with your younger children, especially if they showed interest in their work.

Michael Myers would be a constant presence, quietly observing and occasionally stepping in when needed. He might bond with one of the quieter kids, appreciating their silence and the way they understand each other without needing to talk. He’d be fiercely protective of your family, seeing you and the children as his own responsibility. He would also organise cooking or baking sessions for the kids—managing to make them all participate and teach them a thing or two—in case you do not have the time to cook for them.

And Brahms Heelshire—though not used to such a lively household—would probably hover around you, trying to be helpful while also seeking attention. He’d keep a close eye on everything, particularly the younger kids, and would often look to you for reassurance, wanting to be part of this new family.

Once approval give though ? He’d quickly share his many toys and board games with the kids—eager to make some new friends. He would also be happy if they invited him to play with them and end up missing them when they have to leave. He’s also be happy to receive hugs from the kids and beg you repeatedly to bring them back.

[lehguru]

MUSCLE MUSCLE! + ONE PIECE MEN

one piece men having a muscular fem!s/o feat. monkey d. luffy, roronoa zoro, trafalgar d. water law, sanji, donquixote rosinante, buggy the clown

info: again FEM!READER , this is so self indulgent its embarrassing; not proofread

luffy wouldn't mind you having muscles. he thinks that's something normal – just like some women can be skinny or chubby, others can be muscular. he would love to compare his biceps to yours if you love to flex, he takes it as a fun playful thing. he would adore to train with you, it gives him a big motivation; not only because it's someone as strong as him training, but also because he would adore to share earbuds with you and do silly dances to make you laugh between your sets.

zoro thinks the way you managed to build up your muscles is amazing. he often talks to you about your training techniques and diet; you're also one of the few – three – people he invites to workout with him. if you spot him during bench presses, he always puts a higher weight than he would while alone – that's his way to show that he trusts you and your strength. he will often stare at your body at the gym, but it's never in a creepy way, he just wants to make sure you're okay while doing your exercises (and he secretly enjoys to see your muscles working).

law is constantly wanting to rip his hair off with worry for you. he thinks your psyche is nice and he have no problem with it, his fears lie on your diet and your bones/joints. he fears that you might get an injury and you're not keeping a healthy fat percentage; even if you reassure him and say everything is fine, he always show up with food at your place. if he's not in that worried state, he loves to feel your muscles while you hug him (he has a skinnier build, so he enjoys the contrast). his favorite thing ever is to feel your arms around his head while he lays on your stomach.

sanji would love your body no matter what, but there's something about you being able to lift him up – and even throw him around if you want to – that drives him insane. if you post a picture with any of your muscles flexed, you will get a dozen of comments from him. if you take him to the gym to train with you, he will praise you and won't even train so he can "appreciate and help a goddess like you". he begged you for a long time to give him a headlock so he could take a picture and make it his profile picture in every single social media he have (and the background on his phone).

corazón always get shy whenever he looks at any of your muscles – you often notice it, because his cheeks become a nice shade of pink. at first you thought he didn't like you being muscular, but quite the opposite. unlike his brother, he doesn't build up muscles that easily (they have the same genetics, but he always says he was born to be the skinny brother), so you, the love of his life, being muscular? he is over the moon. if he gets your consent to do it, his hands will be all over you. if you need a massage, he's there. if it's just resting on your thigh or your back during a cuddle session, he's happy. he loves your muscles a lot, not more than he loves you.

buggy thinks you're one of the coolest people because of your muscles. he always wanted to be bigger and scarier, but his muscles always seemed to grow on his legs and stomach only, so if you are well-balanced on all your body, he is smitten. he loves to lay on any part of your body, giggling to himself if he thinks about doing that when you two are apart. he is constantly praising you, but, unlike sanji, they come in a more "if you were the queen, i wouldn't mind being the jester" way. he wouldn't mind tagging along with you to the gym, but he would spend more time glaring at any other men that looks your way than actually training.

2023 © content belongs to lehguru, but the characters used in them belong to their respective creators!!

[sitepathos]

Since reader has been living in goodsprings for four years now, has the mold started setting up new system roots in goodsprings? Can it use reader to spread its spores? Also how did the batfamily not notice a kid for four YEARS???? IM smacking them except alfred

For the first part of your question: the mold has only set up a sort of sub-colony around your house. As stated in Chapter 6, the Megamycete wanted to set up roots around your house to defend it. Should a thief be stupid enough to try to break in your house, he’ll find his leg tangled by a black moldy root that seems determined to snap it off. You can also use your quorum sensing to see through the roots and keep an eye on things while you’re away.

The roots also keep your lawn looking great, saving you from mowing the grass or weeding.

As for the second part, you’d be surprised. For this series, there’s three reasons why they forgot about you so easily. One: you joined at the worst time possible. Jason had died not too long ago, Bruce was so wracked with grief that he threw himself into his work as Batman, and Tim’s parents died, causing him to be adopted by Bruce. With all that going on, you kinda got put on the back burner.

Two: all of them are so busy with their night lives that it bleeds into their daytime lives. They’re too chickenshit to deal with their trauma in healthy ways, so they take the coward’s way out and throw themselves into fighting crime. They get so busy that they forget to take care of themselves and if Alfred wasn’t around, they’d probably waste away.

And three, the one that hurts the most: you’re ordinary. You’re not a genius, you’re physical prowess is average at best, you don’t turn heads when you enter a room, and you don’t have any skills that stand out in a family like the Waynes. And you were raised by your Momma and had a normal, healthy life.

And when you lost her, you grieved like any other six-year-old would and eventually learned to carry on without her (although it wasn’t easy since you didn’t have the emotional support of your family). You certainly didn’t put on some stupid costume and start fist fighting clowns (come on, that’s stupid).

As much as they’d hate to admit it (especially Dick), you didn’t have anything that made them give you a passing glance; you weren’t interesting. They all come from colorful backgrounds have have skills and personalities that make people pay attention to them while you blended into the crowd.

And in a family as prestigious as the Waynes, that’s an unforgivable sin. And you were punished by being turned into the black sheep, forgotten and neglected for years.

You don’t care, your life stopped revolving around them years ago. You have the Megamycete and your dream’s come true. You’re living your best life right now and they can’t hurt you now.

But little do you know there’s a storming brewing and Gotham and it’s heading straight for you. Now that they know the error of their ways, they intend to bring you back to the fold and show you off to the world as the most important part of their family.

However, they’ll soon discover that you’re no longer that Average Joe you once were. Maybe when they see what you’ve become, they’ll finally find you “interesting.”

[fluffyglass]

Coming ABSOLUTELY NEVER, Bugsnax 2! Taking place 2 decades after the first game, explore Snaktooth Island from a new perspective with an entire new cast of characters!

(Character Info under cut, I'm putting way too much effort into this)

First off, our new protagonist: Yolka Woolbag! Lacking a feeling of purpose after the death of her mother, Yolka arranged an expedition to Snaktooth Island to uncover the mystery of where she was born. However, throwing a wrench into that plan is her sudden disappearance and loss of memory, leading her to have to rediscover who she is and why she's there at all!

The first grumpus you'll meet, Writney Bumblenuzzle is the crew's nurse, and is already very tired of dealing with Yolka's amnesia. Contrary to her profession, she's passive-aggressive and would really rather do anything but her actual job.

A roughhousing ex-rodeo clown, Kessie Cattlespur's a rootin' tootin' has-been, longing for the good old days. While he's far past his prime, he believes he still has it in him to act as he did in his youth, but those days are long behind him.

If you need any information on the new bugsnax you'll uncover in Bugsnax 2, Camby's your grump! A zoologist with a bit of an obsessive streak, Camby is passionate about preserving the habitats of native creatures, and isn't too keen on consuming all the natural wildlife.

A niche painter and successful architect, Alferg Barbweaver's incredibly talented, but not very passionate about his art. Laid back and not particularly driven, Alferg's coasted by on the minimum effort required in... almost all parts of his life.

Very large, very stupid, and very, very cowardly, Garriel Grizloop's had a history of people being scared of him for his appearance. He's always trying to gain the approval of others by helping whenever he can, but hasn't found much success in his attempts.

A faded star, Charona Dapplechap has moved on from her days as a showgirl, but still longs for her youth when she was talented and beautiful. She and Kessie have quite the history, and really would rather not speak about it.

An alumni of the brilliant Professor Fizzlebean, Hadley Stormbrewer is an obnoxious snob with an ego the size of his brain (which he claims to be quite, quite large). Despite his accolades, he's quite secretive about his area of study, and besides his previous studies, he doesn't let on much about his background.

If you don't wake up at 4am to work out, can't lift twice your body weight, and dare to eat something with more than a gram of sugar, you're clearly not putting in enough effort, according to Steffonie Jumpinjack. The biggest health nut around, Steffonie's a bit pushy and judgemental, but ultimately well-meaning in her want for everyone to be healthy.

Come one, come all, to Biggie Scotchtop's Bugsnax Circus! Always desiring fame but never achieving it back home, Biggie's attempting to create something the world has never seen: a full circus with bugsnax performers! Her endeavours have yet to be successful, but she'll try anything to get the fame she desires.

If you've read a single magazine in the past years, you've obviously heard of infamous travel blogger, Gazzo Starsnap. A bit airheaded and out of touch with "poor people" reality, Gazzo's only on Snaktooth to take photos of the exotic landscape, take a vacation from his "very busy" life, and of course, dig into the local food!

Nobody quite knows Druple Jamnut. She's secretive, somewhat off-putting, and seems to know a bit too much about the island for someone who's never stepped foot there. She disappeared around the same time as Yolka, but unfortunately hasn't resurfaced since. Nobody's been too keen on looking for her.

That's all of them I'm obsessed with this project please ask me about it ok byeee

[cerastes]

Reading the post about how you handle yourself at work combined with just, everything else you've said about yourself. Disappearing for months at a time to just go wander, the lucina blowjob thing, in general the way you'll talk about topics and explore ideas and such.

They all combine to paint such a wild portrait on an individual and that painting is pretty a pretty neat one, even when sometimes you view the painting and it's you dressed as a clown

In my own journey of self-improvement and getting better, I made a promise with myself that I want to wake up every day of my life, look at the mirror, and be able to say “I liked yesterday”. It can be having had a fun day, having learned something new, feeling happy with my and or hobby, anything, from small to big, anything, I wanted to always look back and say “I liked yesterday”. Sometimes that’s having a good sesh of games, sometimes that’s getting a cosplay blowjob from a cute Lucina, sometimes it’s learning how to fix stuff at home using cheap tins, a drill, and clever use of paint.

And if yesterday was bad and I didn’t like it? “I didn’t like yesterday, but I’ll make sure I’ll like today”.

I can proudly say I’ve lived a colorful life, and the most important part of that, unfortunately, is stepping out of your comfort zone and just doing stuff. It’s hard at first! But it’s worth it big time. Also a healthy sleeping schedule but literally no one likes hearing that hahaha.

[livelaughlovesubs]

what do you think bsd men would be with a girl who is really hyperfeminine (ex loves sanrio, short skits and stuff) but still loves topping?

It literally does not matter what you like and how you look as long as you click. (Also tell me if you want any specific characters I didn’t mention)

I imagine them not minding it neither way, because you can wear a skirt or pants and still fuck them into oblivion. Though there are some that might get fooled by your appearance. It’s the first impression after all.

Dazai would probably tease you about it from time to time, “when I first saw you, I thought you were such a nice and innocent girl! Who knew you were into such freaky stuff?” He’d joke about it all the time, just to provoke you. Then he’d add, “but I love all woman, even if you are a beast in bed.” And wink at you. Now it’s your choice what you will do to him later, maybe you should punish that cheeky tongue of his.

Atsushi would probably be a bit embarrassed, that he needs a girl to take care of him, especially if you are shorter or look younger than him. You just have to assure him it’s alright to feel this way, and it’s alright to show emotions, cry, whatever. He gets embarrassed easily, or flustered, so it’s almost the same no matter what body Typ. You could be taller than him and hug him from behind, he’d blush already. Or as mentioned be shorter and nuzzle into his chest, and he’ll turn red. Also if you flirt with him, and he does catch on, then it really doesn’t matter if you look very feminine or not, he’d be nervous and fumbling with his thumbs the entire time.

Kunikida, I gotta say, he feels like the traditional reserved type of person, though secretly (unbeknownst to him) also a freak. Probably wrote in his book something about a nice and healthy relationship, a girly girl who is mature and gentle, and vanilla. Maybe someone who works part time so that they could take care of the household? He works full time after all. So consider him surprised when he found out about you, cuz your appearance made him believe you were very.. well, basic. (There is nothing wrong with basic) though to think you’d make him so such humiliating stuff.. you better not leave him now, not after seeing all those sides of him.

Sigma likes people who knows what they want and want to be, who can decide. Because he has a few problems with his identity. That’s why he really admires how you carry yourself, and know what you like. Fashion wise or others. You know what you like and you stand behind it, go for it girl. Also, I think sigma likes the high fashion, like a small hobby he has, so he’d love to go shopping with you and discuss outfit ideas. He probably enjoys a wide range of styles.

Fyodor also thought you would be a total sub, he just guessed. Turns out he guessed completely wrong, his mistake, can he make up by drinking a shot? Anyway, as long as you are useful, he doesn’t really care how you present yourself. The skills are what’s important. But to be honest, at first, he was trying to find a very traditional partner. It’s what he believes in. A good wife who cooks and takes care of the house, and obeys. That’s what he was looking for, if he wanted a relationship in the first place. It’s what’s written in the bible, he wanted to follow it. After spending a night with you, he had to think about it again. It felt too good to give up, and honestly, just because you top or dom doesn’t mean you won’t fulfil the requirements, no? Even if you didn’t, well, he was god’s chosen one he can make a special case just for you.

Nikolai would ask you to dress up as a clown with him. If you refuse, he’ll keep asking. So yea, he doesn’t really care what you like or look, he will make you into clowns and magic shows. It’s a part of getting closer to him, there is no roundabout. (Rip those who have a phobia against clowns, but if you do why would you like Nikolai in the first place) jokes aside, I’m sure he won’t really force you into liking all that. Probably…

Chuuya would find it pretty practical, cuz similar to sigma, you know what you like or who you are so you are easy to read. He doesn’t need to think that long to guess what kind of stuff you’d like, it’s practical. But he’ll still take ages to find the *perfect* present for you. Most of the time he’ll buy more than one, if you don’t like it throw it away. If you are even shorter than him, it’d boost his ego, cuz, yea, short people struggles. Though that ego would be gone after you show him who’s top, and he’d be pouting for a while. He thought he could finally stand over someone! He was taller but somehow he didn’t feel like he actually was! It’s not a negative feeling though, not at all. And you being girly didn’t matter, you look gorgeous anyway. Just say the word and he will silence anyone who thinks otherwise.

[sugar-crash]

🏎️Turbo (Wreck-It Ralph) x (gn) Reader🏁

(Sleep Edition!)

(Request here! Honestly, I’m surprised it took me so long to use an ICP song for Turbo, something about him just screams Juggalo, probably the paper white skin or the innate violent impulsivity🔑, I dunno lol)

- Alright so, even unconscious Turbo is selfish, an absolute blanket hog, and you’d think with how small the guy is he wouldn’t take as much of bed space but he does, spreading his limbs out like he’s a fat cat who just ate a good portion of some cat kibble earlier.

- I think he’d be a snorer, but like, usually when he’s on his back and it isn’t obnoxious, no loud sleep apnea snoring here.

- Much like everything else, it takes a while for him to get used to sleeping with you whenever you guys can without necessities of working or doing some other things after hours.

- In my opinion I think the need for sleep for the game characters of Wreck-It Ralph is far less important seeing how after hours they display little to no sleep deprivation all throughout the movie even though it spans roughly 2 nights filled with action and 2 work days.

- So this may be a rare occurrence, but it’s certainly not impossible, considering with the existence of Tapper’s in which we see these game characters drinking, meaning they may have ways to both gain and lose energy.

- Despite this, Turbo I think would be less inclined to exercise a healthy sleeping routine, just having so much to do and wanting to have every moment awake to prove to him and others around him that he is worthy of the title of the beloved game protagonist of Mr. Litwak’s arcade.

- Those eye bags and more unhealthy disposition in comparison to the art on the side of his arcade cabinet says all that needs to be known.

- Which adds to his easily agitated demeanor, so, possibly, maybe, I dunno, getting him to finally fucking sleep after who knows how long makes him chill the fuck out for once.

- Afterwards, he doesn’t verbally thank you for it, typical, too stubborn to admit he was the wrong one in this situation but shows his thanks the next time you disregard your health, calling you stupid among other things while either metaphorically or literally dragging you away from what’s making you unhealthy.

- Inevitably, much like many of the aspects of your relationship he comes to like having sleeping sessions with you, having you beside him while he’s in one of his vulnerable states.

- He doesn’t like being seen as weak and it shows consciously and unconsciously, so having someone whose opinion and perspective of him matters to him seeing him like that displays something he probably never thought would ever do— To be truly trusting of someone beyond himself.

- To be with him alone is something he doesn’t expect from anyone, let alone you— A part of him knows he’s not exactly the best when it comes to another person’s emotions, whether intentional or not.

- So someone like you who shows genuine interest in and keeps showing that rocks him to the very core at times, a kind pang of emotion he doesn’t know how to comprehend just yet.

- Again he hides this with hostility at times, threatening you a bit so you don’t tell anyone of this self-perceived weakness.

- Paralleling him to a cat once more when I say, you can’t force this— He doesn’t hang on your every word or action, he needs to be eased into this new normal and be given consistent reassurance that you are what you portray, ironic isn’t it?

- I think he slowly comes to be truly comfortable with you sleeping with him, but I don’t see him cozying up to you easily, he’s just a naturally rigid guy.

- However I don’t think he’s a block of ice completely, he does have the capacity and does hold onto you whenever you’re in bed with him after some gentle coaxing.

- Talking him to sleep is a common thing during these moments, something about being softly spoken to lulling the racer to sleep eventually.

- He’s a crippling insomniac and no one can tell me otherwise, just look at him.

- This is a very interesting way you guys bond, it isn’t over the top or over-complicated, it’s you and him sharing a sweet moment.

(Y ntyeb yd mlpfdyev fqljcx inniptlu rynt ntyk ptijipnlj ys ntin yken fmqyfok icjliux.)

[wandixx]

Ghost of fries and Hero of cookies part 3

All work words count: 14 643

Words in this part: 3 056

Summary of whole work: Duke wasn't expecting to wake up from his quick rooftop nap to some meta kid with fries. He also wasn't expecting kid to stay

Or

Danny asked Dani to stay safe while she was in Gotham. Where would she be safer than under the wing of local hero? And he looked like he needed bad day combo anyway

This part summary: Joker goons are in for an orange surprise and Duke does not like it in the slightest

Beta read by @audhumla-sailor though English is second language for both of us, so proceed with this in mind. I also know all of the charaters through fics alone, so probably ooc. Stay catious if it's something you don't like

First part, Previous part

trigger warnings: gun violence, panic attacks, dissociation, mentions of Joker gas and what it doeas to people (tell me if i missed something, I'll add it)

Duke was having quite a good day. His schoolwork finally got lighter and up until now nothing notable happen on his patrol. Obviously, couldn’t have Gotham without at least one mugging and bank and corner shop robbery. About the last thing, if it was chain store he would conveniently arrive too late to stop it and just follow up to make sure cashier didn’t get fired. He used to be intimately close with hardships of getting necessary supplies like food or gas masks while corporate assholes were trying to suck people dry. But it was family business so he actually had to step in. He did mention secure way of getting resources to would be robbers though. All in all, not so bad, pretty good day. As for now, he was swinging on grapple to meet with Dani, armed with healthy snack Alfred demanded he took for her when he got texted on his Signal-work-phoneTM. It meant important business 90% of the time, so he stopped to check it out. Other 10% were memes from Dani that usually were worth it anyway.

Got it in one, Hoopoe texted. He opened chat expecting funny video or something instead to be greeted by:

Dani: Hey Signal

Dani: Peple aint spossedf t get out f Arkham

Dani: Amirite?

His stomach dropped. He wished it was hypothetical question but he knew better than to believe such fantasies. Things didn’t go so well in Gotham, especially not with Hoopoe.

You: Yeah, your right. What’s up?

You: You’re*

Dani: Nerd

Dani: Whatre you’re thots on clowns

Dani: ?

His stomach officially landed at his feet and decided it wasn’t enough dropping and ended up on a street below. Even if Joker was still locked up, his goons being active were bad news.

You: Where are you?

You: Hoopoe, where are you?

Dani: Clm dow I ned to chek

Dani: I have ni ieda

Dani: The box building rod

Dani: roof*

Dani: Warehouse?

Dani: That the wors

Dani: I think

You: There are over 1000 warehouses in Gotham

Dani: Idk wht yu want me totll yu

Dani: Therere other warehous arond?

You: Okay

You: Check corners for symbol and number

Back in the day everyone other than Bruce decided to take part in a challenge to count all of the warehouses in Gotham manually. They each got their sector and graffiti spray to mark counted buildings. Later it kinda turned into a way of identifying them. 

Dani: Red blb with too wite dots

Dani: #83

Okay, he wasn’t too far. He risked roof hopping and checking texts to make sure she didn’t try anything stu-

Dani: Im goin in

You: No!

You: Stay where you are!

You: Hoopoe!

You: Hoopoe!

Dani: Calm down worrywart

Dani: Jus wante ti get ab look

Dani: Invisible

Dani: M not dump

I doubt it

You entered building with Joker’s goons with no back-up or plan. It’s extremely dangerous

Dani: Yeah, yeah don care

Dani: 5 goons in clown masks

Dani: Maks idk wat of

Dani: Not northern hemisphere of sky for sure

Dani: Weird containter s

Dani: Ari smells funny

Dani: Giggly i guess

Dani: U prbl know better

You: Get out of there

You: NOW!

You: Try not breathing it in

Dani: K

Dani: Ill stop brething then

You: GET OUT!

Dani: K

Dani: Why so agressive

Because Duke knew what Joker gas could do to person. He knew how it took wonderful people (like his parents) and left shells wand shadows of who they used to be. Because every gas release left him with panic attack. Because he knew it was more dangerous than even some vigilantes thought it was.

You: Wait until I get there

Dani: K

He almost tripped with how much he tried to speed up.

Dani was actually vibrating when he arrived but stayed quiet. Good. If she breathed in some Joker gas it wasn’t working dose yet. Duke had deep feeling not even Alfred’s cookies would be enough to deter her from entering. Offering her a granola bar he sat at the edge of the roof with bone deep sigh. Girl took snack eagerly, bouncing around like puppy high on caffeine.

“How about we take a note of this happening and get going? Other Bats are better equipped to deal with this,” They weren’t but he didn’t want Dani anywhere near this mess. He himself didn’t want to be anywhere near it either.

Kid got deadly still, staring at him as if she could read his deepest secrets if she looked hard enough.

“They’re scaring you” she whispered with strong feeling but Duke had trouble reading what feeling was it. He put his face in his hands for a moment. How was he even supposed to answer that?

“Joker is one of the most dangerous people in Gotham and these guys are working for him. They have guns. Of course I’m a little scared”

Judging by the face Dani made, she wanted to call him out on his bullshit but thought better of it. She floated to sit next to him, swallowing granola in few bites.

“My friend Johnny mentioned him,” she started between chewing ”he said ‘bastard murdered my baby bro Jay and Jay knew his way in fight, stay away from him Dani’. Normally Johnny isn’t so careful”

“All more reasons to leave it for others!” Duke almost shouted, hope growing in his chest. Maybe he could steer her away from it!

“He also told me to hit him if I happen to meet him. He would owe me ‘big one’ then. Do you think I could get ‘small one’ for couple of goons?!”

“Hoopoe no!”

Girl looked thoughtful and after over two weeks of working together he learned to fear this expression.

“Whatever you’re thinking, no. I’ll buy you biggest fries, just leave this–” he waved vaguely at the warehouse hoping it would get message across “–whole mess alone” There was lump in his throat.

Dani haven’t abandon whatever thought got her like that and nodded to herself few time. She drifted around a bit, shifted under her way too long cloak and finally settled with a soft smile.

“You’re scared… Terrified. You’re terrified of them,” she started calmly, like she would talk to a victim if she actually knew how to do it ”It’s okay. It’s great. Fear is what keeps humans alive,” she nodded as if she recounted something from textbook properly in front of the class “But I’m not scared and I fought people much stronger than them and I’m even better now thanks to you. If you’re so terrified, it means they need to be dealt with and it needs to be done fast. It’s okay,” her grin from soft turned devilish “I was itching for some fun fight anyway”

“Dani-”

“It’ll be quick, I promise,” she said, serious again “Don’t worry,” she stood up, saluted and fell through the roof, all too fast to react or not miss it with a blink. Frankly, it caught Duke so off guard he couldn’t even move for a few seconds after the whole ordeal anyway. He threw himself down to the nearest window as soon as he regained control over his body. His heart was stuck in his throat.

Dani tackled first goon with delighted giggle right when he crashed inside. He checked if his mask was secure on reflexes he plummeted towards the ground, moving his body to land safely on top of the shelf. Warehouses were weird place to fight. Easy to get vantage point like Duke just did but was also hard in a way. Little space made it hard to use wider streaks, easy get backed into corner. Annoying more than anything.

Dani’s wrestling match was so attention grabbing that nobody even looked at Duke, despite his far from subtle arrival. He threw himself forward when he caught telltale shine of the gun in one of goons hands. It was dumb move when Dani was so close to his ally, but who he was to criticize Joker goon’s live choices. It didn’t take Signal long to understand he wouldn’t make it on time. He had to but there was no-

Two gunshots rang in rapid succession split second before Duke got to the goon and, with swiftness granted only by adrenaline and fury people got when someone their got hurt, knocked man out cold. Before body could hit the ground he spun around to see the damage because Dani still refused to wear any armor and from this close goon would have to be Storm Trooper to miss her. Because she was most likely bleeding heavily. What if they hit something instantly lethal?

He faced a fight right in time to see Dani jumping at another goon also openly wielding a gun. He wanted to yell at her but bullets were fired before he got a chance. He looked for blood dripping from her torso while dodging another man  barely taking his eyes off Dani.

“That wasn’t nice,” she sounded like she pouted! At being shot! “If I was anyone else I would be seriously hurt right now, you know?” her voice was somewhat off. Like it wasn’t quite made by her vocal cords but some awkward voice generator.

Before the appalled man could react, he got technically not too good right hook to the jaw. It was strong enough to make him unconscious and get quite loud creak out of his neck. Duke hoped Dani didn’t mess up the guy's spine. He was criminal but he didn’t deserve this type of treatment.

Duke focused back on his own fight when he made sure that girl wasn’t in immediate danger of dying. He dodged running goon again, who literally ran himself into the shelf because of that. Signal used his short confusion to hit him in the side of his neck, rendering the opponent unconscious. Okay, they made it, this was the last-

Another gunshot made his sped-up heart skip a beat. Lump in his throat suffocated him.

No, no, no, no, no-

“I shot you in the face!”

 He looked her way ready to see unmoving body and red decorating concrete floor.

“There was a good quip for- oh right” she started cheerfully, entirely unharmed, before her face twisted into something actually demonic.

“Y̶o̸u̵r̵ ̶p̵e̶s̴k̶y̵ ̴l̷i̷t̶t̸l̶e̸ ̵b̷u̸l̴l̴e̶t̷s̵ ̴w̸o̴n̵'̸t̵ ̵h̶u̵r̶t̸ ̸m̷e̶, ₥ØⱤ₮₳Ⱡ₴”

She laughed in distinctly Dani way, all bright and joyful while also so not like herself, distorted and echoey it mage hairs at the back of his neck stand.

Duke froze when goon fired again and there was no way she dodged it. There was not enough space. She had to get shot. She got shot and he did nothing to stop it. A child got hurt because of him-

He looked at but hadn’t quite seen how Dani knocked out last goon and flew up to him. He heard her voice but words were impossible to understand over rush of blood in his ears. He could tell she was laughing. They should get out. Dani mentioned giggly smell in the air. It had to mean Joker gas. They needed to be out yesterday.

He stumbled a bit, forcing his leg to cooperate, half caring, half dragging girl to the nearest exit point. Fact that he could touch her and didn’t feel any blood was grounding a bit.

“-gnal, Signal are you okay? Your heart is beating weird,” Dani asked, sounding a bit scared for the first time today. Duke’s brain felt too fuzzy to care “Signal, you’re freaking out, calm down, please”

Light assaulted their eyes the moment they were out. Before he got fully used to it, he set girl in front of him and detached her cape. She may have squawked at this action but he didn’t care. She was shot, he needed to check her for injuries.

She got shot, she got shot, she got shot-

“Signal what-” he was clearly freaking her out “Oh. You think I’m hurt. I told you I could handle it. I’m fine. Signal I’m really fine. I have intangibility, bullets can’t hurt me. I’m fine Signal”

Duke wanted to make sure. Adrenaline or simple wish to not worry him could make her ignore something. He couldn’t let her. He made her turn maybe a little to roughly.

He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if she bled out.

She was actually fine.

Relief hit him so strong he crumbled against the wall, his mind finally succumbing to the haze. It was fine. It was all actually fine.

He may have heard some yelling.

Next thing he registered was something tad too warm, almost burning his palms. His gloves did their job of protection well though. There was a herbal smell. Melissa, he registered after a moment. It took him some more time to realize that the source of the smell was in his hands. He had scathingly hot cup of melissa in his hands. He stared at a little bit squashed paper again trying to get used to the light. He didn’t even realize he closed his eyes. Sound of the paper bag made him look up where Dani, still without her cape, crouched few feet away from him.

“You back?” she asked cautiously. Duke wasn’t sure how to answer. He was and he wasn’t. His mouth didn’t work anyway. He shrugged, mindful of the cup in his hands. Blanket, he didn’t even know he was wrapped in, fell from one of his shoulders.

“I don’t know what happened but Jazz likes this tea when she needs to calm down. Though she usually needs to drink it to make it work,” Dani rambled, gesturing widely “You’re still breathing kinda funny, can you slow down? It’s not good for humans to breathe so fast. It doesn’t let good stuff from air get in your blood and travel around your body and it’s not healthy. I know, Jazz told me and she is really smart. She wants to be this doctor who stabs brain back into working. She had this smart word for it… Neurosurgeon, I think it’s this one. She said breathing like that is not good for brain so slow down? In for four, out for four? I don’t know, Signal, just calm down?”

Right, he still was hyperventilating. Duke focused on his lungs, forcing them to expand, trying to match up Dani’s slightly gasping breaths.

He really was freaking her out, wasn’t he?

Melissa was almost lukewarm by the time he was back in his body enough to drink it. It was sweet, a bit too much for his taste.

“You good now?” Dani asked and Duke nodded. He was as good as he could at the moment “Great, I didn’t want to leave you for too long so I don’t have BatBurger. I got cookies though. And I can go get it now”

“Don’t,” he caught her arm and squeezed, not sure why he did it himself.

“Huh?”

“Don’t go anywhere”

“Sure. Wanna cookie? I have chocolate chips and healthy, wheat ones”

“Chocolate”

“Okay” she nodded and fixed blanket on his arms. It was comfy. If Duke was firing on all cylinders, he would wonder where she got it.

“Don’t ever do it again”

“What is it though?”

“Jumping into danger like that”

“Oh, really? It wasn’t that dangerous, they were normal humans”

“They had Joker gas and guns”

“Intangibility means I can ignore bullets Signal, don’t be such worrywart. It’s bad for your health. What’s Joker gas?”

Question and the whole statement felt so surreal that Duke couldn’t help but laugh, choked and hysterical as it was. She didn’t know what Joker gas was. Worrying about her getting shot was bad for his health. He just had a panic attack and was comforted by a ten years old girl with cookies and melissa. What the fuck?

“Hey!” Dani pouted “Don’t laugh like that! Jazz always says that you shouldn’t laugh when someone doesn’t know something, just explain it to them! Signal!” she whined but the damn broke he couldn’t rear his hysteria back in “Alright, I’m Googling it”

She did as Duke’s laughter winded down. He was almost calm when she deemed her research enough.

“Alright, this is some nasty shit”

This sentence startled him into full silence. Dani was ten, swearing wasn’t something she did, like, ever. He must’ve scared her a lot.

“I’m fine though. I didn’t breathe it in. Did you? This laughter sounded a bit worrying to be honest”

“I’m okay, I had gas mask. People sometime laugh to release tension”

“Oh”

“Yeah. But you were in the building with it and didn’t have gas mask”

“I wasn’t breathing”

“You were talking”

“Our fucked up biology, as Danny likes to put it, means that one doesn’t mean another. I just don’t use it often because humans find it uncanny and my throat gets itchy after some time”

Something in Duke wanted to argue more but it was squashed but utter exhaustion that crashed him.

“Alright”

They sat for a long moment.

“Are you ready to patrol now?”

Duke would laugh again if he had any energy left.

“I think we should end for today. I would be useless like that”

“Okay, valid. You go home I’ll fly around a bit”

“No. You’re going home too. I don’t have enough emotional energy to worry about you getting into some mess like this again”

They stared at each other for a long moment before Dani looked away with angry huff.

“Okay. You’re worse than Danny, you know?”

“I don’t care. Go home and stay safe”

“You sure you will be alright if I go now? I can walk or fly you somewhere, not home if you don't want me to but maybe somewhere closer?”

“I’ll be fine. I can call my brother. Just go please”

“Sure. See you tomorrow, Signal. You were really brave today”

“Thank you, Hoopoe” If she answered, he didn’t hear her. He fumbled with his comm to turn it on with still shaky hands. Finally he managed and called a pick up in the form of Jason. It was great to have older brother who always had time like that. Even if it meant a lot of unnecessary questions about what happened Duke wasn’t up to answering it yet and threats of serious violence on his enemies.

Duke couldn't force himself to let go of the orange blanket. It was grounding.

Though Alfred made him hot chocolate with marshmallows. He wouldn’t repeat today for that, but it certainly was nice accent.

*********

"Humouristic" summary of this part

Dani: Yo, there are goons here. Gonna investigate.

Duke: *quietly freaks out*

Random Joker's goons: *do normal goon things*

Dani: *attacks them* HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Duke: Is this what minor heart attack feels like?

Goons: *start shooting*

Duke: Is this what major heart attack feels like?

Dani: Dude, you good? Here, get some tea, cookies and blanket

*

Dani, few hours later, texting: Hey Signal, remeber to bring back my cape tmrw

Duke, internally: Wait, this is her cape?

Duke, also texting: Wanna better one? Like Spoiler has?

Dani, somehow conveing Ghost Speak via text: Don't you dare

Thank you for reading this <3

Next part

[kiththecat]

ok i was going to dm this but it was too long so i’m just sending it here

rek and branzys friendship (but also branzy and everyone else in the story in general tbh)… like. i just love so much how different they are but also how they work so WELL. rek is anxious, he’s untrusting of clown, of whatever branzy has going on, he’s tired and being used by other heroes but him and branzy are still best friends. clown, who is one of the most terrifying assassins in the city, has this fucking Thing going on with branzy - and as it just so happens, clown is one of those kind of people that rek has worked his whole life against. but branzy likes him. and rek thinks, rather rek KNOWS that he’s being at least the slightest bit stupid. probably more than just the slightest bit. but, he stays. regardless, he stays. he does more than just stay, too. he’s there to support branzy. when Leoweok arrives, rek is the first person branzy calls. Because rek is reliable no matter what, because rek is quick and knows about these sort of things, but also because rek is branzys best friend. and even though rek was right, one hundred percent right that doing whatever-the-fuck-branzy-is-doing-with-clown is dangerous, he stays. he helps, too. even though it stresses him out like fucking crazy, rek stays. He helps, too. he fights with clown, getting along with him for branzy. he makes a truce with him. and i think this is another thing about branzy, that even though he’s good with emotions and makes people trust him and does what he does, he really is just lovable. people love him, even without him manipulating anyone. they love him and trust him. branzy is grounded by rek, literally by him just being there. and i love that. he isn’t alone with just clown, because as much as that trope is amazing and i can’t lie i love it, i also love when we see branzy with his friends and they’re still putting up with him (even fucking encouraging him LMAOO) while he’s being a fucking idiot is just so endearing. branzy makes rek exhausted and stressed as fuck, he’s probably playing with his life, he likes being in danger and likes being scared and rek does not in any way have enough stress for it all. but then again, he does. because he loves branzy. and even though branzy is… doing his thing, he loves rek too. it’s so clear, even with the thing he has going on with clown being the main focus. i love that so much, just how close the two of them are. how well they work together. but ALSOOOO i need to talk about branzys employees omfg they’re so funny. i love the tone that this fic has, it has its moments of tension and fear and exhilaration, but it’s also just so fun. it’s so stupid and funny and i love reading it because of how well you balance out the tones. like, yeah, clown is a mass murderer and can easily kill branzy at virtually any moment. he could completely ruin his life, it’s just. is so fucking silly. squiddo goes up to clown and just chats to him. like, to convinces him to get branzy to allow her and ash to stay true night in the park. and i just read your other clownzy fic, while that was great and had wonderful writing (the fuckifn. it was so clear he was gaslighting himself, so clear it HURT, you’re an amazing fucking writer holy shit. but also the relationship between him and clown, it was so clear. not only that, but the way rek and especially ash treated him. FUCK), i honestly think i prefer this one better because of the tone. it doesn’t take itself too seriously, which i love. also the references to patches LMAOO. but like, the way that his employees, not only are they barely shocked, but they also are barely phased. they don’t even quit. like some of them are scared, sure, at least frightened, but for the most part it seems like they literally Do Not Care (going back to how branzy is just lovable - also on that note all his employees care about him so much it’s just so sweet. squiddo not letting him eat park food anymore so he’s healthy i love them) and in fact find entertainment in it. it’s just so fun. they’re so fun. squiddo getting clown to make branzy do things for her and branzy IMMEDIATELY being like “oh my god

HI THANK YOU SO MUCH THIS WAS SUCH A JOY TO READ. you are in my head good sir

words? from me? the branzy and rekrap friendship in this fic was not planned by honestly has become one of the most fun parts to me. besties. (also i once again apologise to rek for putting him through all this🙏)

and yeah! people love branzy! i think, i don't remember who, but there's been a few character analysis posts here that's bleed into my writing and some have really underlined branzy's lovability as his most prominent strenght. very interesting type of character to write. very balanced with clown's strenghts and weaknesses. perfect for each other, really.

and honestlyyy the most fun part of writing this fic has just been the silly interactions. everyone's just trying to navigate the weirdest situationship ever with some plot on the side. im so happy so many people seem to be enjoying it too :D

[mraprilfools]

Word Count: 6.9k

Rating: E Pairing: Mammon x F!Reader

CW/TW: Mammon

Summary:

Even after dating the infamous sin Mammon for months, the man hasn't even tried to lay one dirty hand on you. You decide it's time to change that and put on a skimpy black dress on your next date! Only one problem, the reporters love it more than he does!

Or so you think. Preview below the cut

Openly dating one of the Sins was one of the best ways to end up with your name everywhere. In magazines, TV segments, and online discussion boards. It felt like your whole world was turned upside down once they had snapped a single photo of you leaving a restaurant with Mammon. He towered over you considerably, but you stuck out like a sore thumb as a simple hell-born Baphomet. A secretary that happened by the strangest fluke, a misfiling! Mammon had been far too impressed with your initial meeting to fire you.

All it took was a little healthy fear and suddenly he became borderline obsessed with you. At first, it was casual hangouts with the large sinner making himself quite at home with you. Then he was stealing your weekends and your free time for reasons unrelated to work. His hand became familiar on your shoulder, pushing you into his large plush body whenever he had some oddly capitalistic word of wisdom to share.

Before you knew it, the Sin had become a familiar part of your life. Only he was frustratingly chaste! Sure he’d cuddle with you, push that head against your neck, and wrap his four arms around you. You were happy to lay up on his fuzzy belly and simply… sleep. It was heavenly but three months later and he had not so much as tried to kiss you once.

You’d get to hold his hand! Mammon would pick you up and carry you. He even got you, your very own jester cap! Some days you’d lay on top of him while you played video games together. But… it never got more physical than that.

But tonight you felt you hyping yourself up to try and push things to the next level! At least a smooch! Today’s secret weapon? A pretty black dress that hugged your curves, leaving nothing to the imagination of what you were packing. High heels that showed off your legs even with your hooves fighting it every step of the way, and you went the extra mile to have your hair up.

Tonight! You were going to fuck a clown!

You arrived first at the venue. Standing outside waiting for him, pulling the shawl around your shoulders to attempt and banish the chilling cold of the evening. You’d chosen beauty over comfort and were starting to regret it. The flash of a camera made me far too aware of how high the hem of your dress rode and the plunging neckline.

It didn’t stop with one flash or two. Several were going off in the dark corners where you were never looking. You were stuck between staying where you were so Mammon could find you, or finding a place to hide. The anxiety of the crossroad didn’t have to live long. A familiar limo on the street meant your brief vigil was over and salvation.

You stood on the tips of your hooves, watching with unmasked excitement waiting for the sight of the man who had become so quickly dear to you.

Mammon stepped out wearing a bright green suit with a black vest underneath. His head was still covered with his iconic mask, matching with the colors of his formal wear. There were trappings of familiarity such as the squirting water flower and the spinning bow tie that spoke of his profession. The pressure in your chest felt much lighter at the sight of the larger-than-life sin. Thankfully he attracted all the cameras too! Something Mammon could brush off with ease because it was a world he was born into.

“There’s my Doll!” The familiar voice with its Australian slang cut through the din of the city. The nickname was a familiar one, apparently short for one of Mammon’s favorite things: The Dollar Bill.

The Chartreuse eyes glowed even in the evening, contrasting against the artificial lights. Mammon wasted no time scooping you right off the ground! Hands held your waist, lifting you until you were face to face despite your height differences. He then tucked you into the crook of his lower set of arms like a seat while the upper half was your support for your back. Your legs bent against his belly while he looked at you with his face illuminating with joy.

“You look like a million bucks!” A toothy grin flashed across his face; knowing how cheesy that sounded.

Didn’t fail to bring heat to your neck and a bubbling joy that had you bashfully trying to turn your head away. That was the highest compliment THE Mammon could give! “Fuzzy! We’re in public!” You reminded him. But the sin could hardly care, already pressing his forehead against yours. The ear of his hat tickled your scalp as his lips pressed against your temple.

“Yeah! And you think I give a shit? They SHOULD be looking. These pieces of shit are lucky to be getting to see people like us in public! Fuck, I should be CHARGING them. Wait--” The illuminated expression faltered, eyes squinting. He was stuck in one of his usual thoughts on how to exploit anything and everything for money. It was but one of the many things you loved about the man! Instead of interrupting you pressed a chaste kiss against his forehead, too shy to steal your first kiss in public!

Mammon’s face gentled, large green eyes widening in joy. “Aww, who am I kidding? I’m with my Doll! I’ll exploit these bitches later. You ready for some Italian?”

“You bet! I’ve never been anywhere this fancy before. I hope I don’t accidentally embarrass us...” It had to be quite an affair it was to make even Mammon dress up in a suit. The clown cocked his head to the side and then burst into laughter.

“Don’t worry Doll! Play it off like a joke and everyone will think you’re funny yeah? In any case, I’d hardly be Mammon if I didn’t take my girl to the most expensive restaurant in town yeah? I’m not some… broke loser. Eugh, like can you imagine?” Mammon stuck out his tongue as if it were easily the least attractive trait in anyone. You stuck your tongue out with him, a gesture that brought back that brilliant smile you loved.

“Hah, there’s my Doll! Poor people right? It’s like they want to be a joke. Come on!” Not given much of a choice, you were rocked within the cradle of Mammon’s arms. Held possessively, intentionally blocking you from the sight of the cameras.

[atimesfeeler]

I loved @twilightkitkat 's post SO MUCH I just had to add to it. It reminded me of a fic I'm working on rn.

I especially liked the part with Vanessa because I don’t think she just left him because of the reason Wade thinks. She didn’t just want him to be a superhero or whatever- in the flash back, she’s begging him to open up to her, to be present, to let her help him and I don’t thinks Wade could do it.

He felt like, incorrectly, that he couldn’t burden her with it. He has so much baggage and pain and issues, and he can’t corrupt her with that. He had cancer and instead of spending his last days with her, he left her. And when he survived he avoided her until she was literally kidnapped.

Everyone thinks Logan runs but really Wade does. He doesn’t want the people he loves to know he’s in pain. At his birthday party, he’s obviously miserable but everybody’s together! And smiling! So he’s going to be happy and pretend he’s just fine. But he’s not even very good at hiding it bc, like mentioned before, it’s a little bitter. His jokes don’t land or they come out passive aggressive and tense. But nobody calls him out for it except Logan. Logan who tells him in the meanest way that he’s a clown but that he’s sad, pathetic, and attention starved. He’s not buying the clown act.

And when Logan moves in, I love the idea that he starts noticing Wade when his mask falls or he gets too tired to pretend.

I’m writing a fic where Wade deals with chronic pain in less healthy ways and, of course, he tries to hide it. It's more brief and censored on tumblr bc I don't want to get my account terminated again, but it will be more detailed on ao3.

…

He dealt with it in other ways. The pain.

After all, a little bit of death couldn’t hurt, right?

Treating himself gently only sometimes worked. If he did everything right, if he did all the steps then maybe, maybe it would ease up. Sleep well, wake up at the right time, eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner, draw a scalding bath, and take some hard hitting drugs.

Most days, Wade was much more impatient. Most days, Wade failed. It was too hard to take care of himself when waking up felt like dragging himself up from glacier water and pounding on the underside of the ice. Cooking was a nightmare he didn’t even want to consider tackling, and he was rarely patient enough to wait for the bath to fill or for sleep to take him as his body wracked with pain.

There were faster, easier, more instant ways of relieving the pain.

Any pain that didn’t stem from his own body was good.

With Vanessa, Wade had tried the healthy way. The three meals, ten hours of sleep, and taking his vitamins. The whole mile. There was this urge he constantly resisted that told him it would release the tension in his skull if he carved under his eye into his cheek where the migraine pulsed, like he was some sort of fucked up carpenter with voices in his head.

Vanessa didn’t understand it. If he was in pain, why would he want to be in more? She understood his masochistic tendencies in bed where they mixed pain and pleasure, but just pain? Just harm for the sake of being harmed? They got into a lot of fights about it.

He resisted the attempts. Hid them from her where he could. Sometimes he’d miscalculate, and she’d walk into the bathroom before he could heal and clean up his brain splattered on the bathroom tile. She hated it, and Wade hated that he was hurting her.

He reeled back any anger or snippy comments that stemmed from the sheer newness of having his body feel like it was dying all the time. It was so hard to interact when pain rippled through him like a feedback chamber. It made his fuse short and curt. His witty remarks turned snappish and bitchy. People asked stupid questions and made even stupider comments when he was having a Bad Pain Day, and everything felt a bit more raw and oozing. Wade didn’t have the energy to keep up the act and while his mind rarely stopped running, it shifted into something darker when pain was on his mind. His jokes fell flat, laced with a bitter ending. Sometimes, Wade didn’t even want to talk. He wanted to punch someone. Maybe even himself. And every time he snapped or said something he didn’t mean, he wanted to hurt himself even more.

Quickly, he grew exhausted putting on a brave face, and he had never been good at letting people help him. There was this awful clash of wanting to be comforted by the people he loved and hating that he needed comfort. It made him feel weak and pathetic, and Wade already hated so much about himself that he didn’t want anyone to see the twisted, fucked up parts of him. How ironic that he always had an audience anyway. He couldn’t hide it from you or whoever was watching him those days, but he could hide it from the people he loved. Shield them from it, almost.

On Bad Pain Days, Wade didn’t want anything to be different. He didn’t want to acknowledge the pain he dealt with, and seeing that pity on her face set his teeth on edge. It both hurt to be babied and, later, it hurt to be ignored when he stubbornly insisted he was fine.

Obviously, it didn’t work out.

It was better with Al.

Al tried to help. Once or twice. Her motherly instincts kicked in, maybe, Wade didn’t know. He shot himself once in front of her while they were watching the Bachelorette together, and she cursed him out and told him to stop and never do it again. Wade took his little attempts to the bathroom after that. He cleaned up after himself. He went out. Wade tended not to do the more dramatic methods that draw attention.

Wade had it down to a science. A decent chunk out of his frontal lobe sent Wade into a pleasant, almost subspace-like place. He would just… float and forget that his body hurt all that bad. It was good for Bad Brain DaysTM too when Wade’s thoughts were louder, faster than normal, and the voices stopped sounding like himself. When the fourth wall was a little too easy to see, and it got to him, being the doomed comic relief, when his head was trying to split his consciousness in two.

If his temporal lobe was nicked, then Wade would start hallucinating and hear a banger of a song while time, space, and movement sort of fucked up for a second. It felt like getting high, but he didn’t need an entire bag of cocaine and to hot box weed to get there.

If something happened to his parietal lobe, the pain wouldn’t know where to go. A bear could literally be eating his insides, but the pain signals couldn’t register if they had nowhere to go.

He did most of his questionable coping methods in the stereotypical bathroom spot. It was private, and Al got onto him for getting blood and bits all over the apartment. He once left his liver or his kidney in the kitchen sink, and Althea threatened to call the cops on him - her coke stash be damned. Now he’d drape himself in the empty tub, play music loudly, and expertly deal with the pain.

The system he had was fine. Regulated. It was working. It was fine. It wasn’t going to get any better.

Until Logan.

...

I haven't posted it on ao3 yet, but it will be apart of the series for my fic where Wade cries in the Honda instead of fighting.

[yannaryartside]

Sydcarmy: the proof that even soulmates cannot be saved from fate's trials.

I will throw a narrative at you, more about my feelings on the themes shown regarding these two; bear with me. I want justice for Sydney Adamu. I also want Sydcarmy to work, but justice has to come first. All this comes from the line that Syd said to Marcus:

It is scary to rely on somebody.

Carmy has cornered Sydney

Now, all this sounds like shipper desires, and it is partially true, but I would like to add something about a point that concerns me a lot about Sydcarmy.

Since the beginning of the show, Sydney has put her fate in the culinary industry, her dreams, on the success of the enterprise, The Bear. But Carmy’s issues constantly sabotage this enterprise, and a part of Sydney believes it is her responsibility to make things work around her.

Now, let me be clear, she has boundaries and clear expectations of what can be done and has let Carmy know of everything he has done wrong. It is not like she is trying to be the hero; it is that everything Sydney had a chance to create, Carmy (or rather Carmy’s issues) has actively sabotaged to the point the restaurant may close next season.

Her financial security. Her opportunity to create her own recipes and discover her own artistic potential. Her reputation. Her capacity to support her last living parent. All of these things depended on Carmy’s project, and he has failed at every measure regarding her. He failed at helping her navigate the toxic environment of his family, constructing the restaurant and conceptualizing the menu, and he has been an awful leader when every detail can be the defining factor in their future. The fact that he is struggling doesn't take away his fault on the effects his actions may have on Sydney's career.

The restaurant closing may be damaging for Carmy but it could be fatal for Syd. She even said she may quit after this one is done.

So, on top of all that, she has developed feelings for him. This person she barely knows and has been emotionally distant from her 80% of the runtime of the show. She keeps hearing that all of Carmy’s problems could be solved by Claire and only her (I swear if the Faks, god forbid, try to make Sydney talk to Carmy about Claire and they tell her that “Claire is Carmy’s peace” you may see me manifest in the screen and strangle these clowns, they can make their cases to God).

Three strikes

This scene made me so sad for so many reasons. When Carmy says, “You look nice,” you can see the absence in his face, and then Syd removes the bow, almost as if she is embarrassed by trying to look nice (for him). For her, this man has rejected her as a business partner, as a chef (not being good enough to contribute to the menu), as a friend (not being there for her), and romantically (sexually).

So, it is not that I won’t rather skip jealous plotlines and whatnot. It is the fact that the show has used 3/4 of its (presume) runtime to tell Sydney all of this, to make her live all this rejection in all the areas she is the most concerned about, all her dreams, all her feelings.

It is very unhealthy to put your dreams on the shoulders of your loved one (not that this is her fault; Carmy invited her and even made a contract to solidify her dependence on his project). I also think there is a part of Sydney that believes that if she was good enough for Carmy to fall for her, all of these other pieces in her life would be better. She would collaborate intimately with her boyfriend and be a permanent part of the people she has learned to love and who love her.

But right now, she is putting all of her hopes in a person who is too mentally ill to know what even a healthy relationship is. Carmy is too traumatized, too codependent, with no guidance, and not even knowledgeable of his self-destructive tendencies.

This was doomed from the beginning. And both will inevitably lose themselves in the process. Carmy is trapped in ice but forces Sydney to walk on thin ice. Nobody can exist like that. No relationship or person can grow.

Again, none of this is Sydney’s fault, she has put her faith in a friend and a group of people she wanted to make a difference for. The fact that she has developed feelings for the most unreliable person in her life right now, is just a whim of fate. Talking about hardship for the strongest soldiers.

But there is hope.

If they start from a good place. If each one keeps their side of the street clean.

She deserves to leave this place and make a career on her own, blood, sweat, and tears. Let Carmy grow on his own, more so, she can finally understand that she could be her literal soulmate (that she is) and have the actual peace in him effect that he thought Claire gave him. And still, it would be enough.

That’s the lesson; that’s how the real world works. No cosmic arrangements, deep love, or emotional intelligence can help a person who refuses to request help.

A relationship is only created by two willing individuals.

[baratiddyappreciator]

hiii girl! Can i get huh, like a list of HC about Chiharu's and Hanayama's friendship, stupid shit they'd get themselves into or fights they'd have..Like they try both to ride the same motorbike and that shit begins breaking down through the way until they've both fallen into the side of the road and all that's left from their vehicle is dust..

Soooo I may have lied when I said I was off hiatus but I'm slowly working my way back to doing this stuff. I may or may not have like 8 blankets to crochet before Christmas and that's taking up most of my attention-span hahaha- ANYWAYS LOOK A POST!!!

Dumbasses of the highest caliber, but to different degrees. Hanayama is the quiet kind of dumb, where you'd assume he's incredibly smart until he opens his mouth and asks what the fuck a multiplication is, and Chiharu is ADHD dumb. He's really smart when it comes to some things, but he doesn't know a lot about other things. Ask him to name motorcycle parts and he'll name each component, but ask him if a carrot is a vegetable or a root, and he'll self destruct.

Put them in a room together and watch them actively lose braincells. They start talking about pride month and neither knows what it is.

"Pride month is when you are proud of someone. For a whole month. I'm proud of my boys, they work hard."

"DUMBASS! THAT'S NOT WHAT IT MEANS!! Pride month is when you're proud of yourself! So I'm proud of my hair, because it's still healthy despite all of the hairspray!"

There's a reason Baki likes the both of them, and that is because all three of them are actually so dumb. The average IQ in a room with all three of them drops by at least 50%.

They know they can't ride the same motorcycle, not because it'll break, no Chiharu's bike is sturdier than that, but because Hanayama is very much Not Fond of being on a motorcycle. You would have to trick him into sitting on one, and even then, it's not gonna go anywhere, his legs are too long, his shoes would get eaten up by the pavement and he'd probably break the bike with how hard he'd be holding onto it. He would rather a car, thank you.

Chiharu is the polar opposite, he will happily jump onto a random motorcycle as long as it's shiny and looks in good shape. It's like trying to get a cat into a bath when Hanayama tries to get him into a car though. He full on grabs the doorframe and plants his feet, he is NOT getting in there, he HATES the car! Actively claws at the door to get out Hanayama is so embarrassed, get that clown OUT of here, he just wants a nice calm ride.

They go through a LOT of clothes. Like, it's insane. Chiharu's get ruined because of grease and blood and whatnot, but Hayanama just rips his off whenever he's gonna take someone seriously?? Anyways, they go clothes shopping together just to buy fifteen of the same outfit.

Chiharu tried pink once and Hanayama gave him the most disgusted look ever and bro just sorta accepted that it Wasn't The Look and hasn't done it since. That being said, he keeps trying to get Hanayama to wear a light blue or a grey. He has good fashion taste for other people, but not himself.