#And with their shared use of ✨violence✨

[betterthanbatman1]

Umm I love them???

[cheolaholic]

bound to you; jww

summary; With a subtle fire growing between two vastly different souls, are they doomed to surrender to a bond that binds them together? Or... are they exactly what each other need?

abo universe • mafia au • arranged marriage • fluff, smut, angst • hurt-comfort

pairing; jeon wonwoo x f!reader | wc; 22k | rating; 18+ explicit nsfw

contains; mafia boss! wonwoo, florist! reader, alpha! wonwoo, omega! reader, reader knows how to fight back/stand her ground even though she’s submissive, right hand man! woozi, beta! svt members (cheol, woozi, gyu, vernon & chan), mentions of JxW, wonwoo is unhinge but not too unhinged, woozi encouraging/supporting wonwoo to be more unhinged, wonwoo wears glasses, very subtle “where is my wife!?” trope, not really sure who fell first and who fell harder, unplanned pregnancy, the honeymoon scene is sweet AND nasty

mature/trigger warnings; dom! wonwoo, sub! reader, big dick! wonwoo, knotting, biting/marking kink, size kink, use of sex toys, g-spot stimulation, breeding kink, unprotected sex (wrap it before you do the nasty), mating press, implied sex marathon when reader is in heat, somewhat of an aftercare, reader is extremely horny when in heat, wonwoo doesn’t mind bcs he’s just as horny and has really high stamina, tummy bulge, creampies, squirting, that one business proposal scene, drugs (heat inducers, heat/rut suppressants), forced drugging, weapons (guns, knives, needles etc), abduction, violence (it’s a mafia au so, yea), mentions of miscarriage, etc

petnames; his (Nonu, Alpha), hers (Doll, Babydoll)

a/n; RAHH, new fic !! hope yall enjoy this because i sure as hell stressed over this fic way more than i should’ve- was also sick as i tried to finish this out and get it out (by its very overdued deadline rip) big thanks to rae ( @nerdycheol) and supi ( @supi-wupi) for beta reading and sharing their thoughts on it hehe ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

✨ support me by becoming a patreon (enjoy exclusive perks & content) OR tip me on kofi !! 💜 if you are unable to do so, you can also show support by reblogging your favourite works of mine !!

In this universe, there exists a city called Ashville.

A modern city that’s under the rule of an infamous Mafia family that’s been around for generations.

In this universe, each individual is born into one of three dynamics: Alpha, Beta, and Omega. These roles are usually found out before they become teenagers, typically around the ages ten to twelve. Not only do they dictate one’s instincts, but it also determines their place in the social hierarchy.

Alphas stood at the very top of the hierarchy, their presence commanding and unyielding. Known as protectors and leaders, their strength and resolve made them pillars of stability and order. They exude an air of confidence, their pheromones carrying an unmistakable weight that both enthralls and intimidates. An Alpha’s instinct could be a double-edged sword – their need for dominance paired with their sense of responsibility.

Betas occupy the middle grounds, acting as stabilizers so that the world doesn’t get thrown into a world of instinctual chaos. Neither driven by the dominating urges of an Alpha nor bound by the vulnerabilities of an Omega, they serve as the mediators. The voice of reason, if you will. Their neutrality is what makes them the glue that holds society together, but could also be the cause of its downfall if they were to commit treason.

Finally, the Omegas, whose roles are often misunderstood due to their vulnerabilities. They’re the heart of the societal order, their instincts centered on nurture, connection, and to a few, rebellion. They are similar to Alphas in terms of pheromones, but what set them apart would be that an unclaimed Omega’s pheromones could attract unwanted attention from unclaimed Alphas, drawing them in like moths to a flame.

Claimed Omegas would bear the bonding bite of their Alphas. But, in the event an Omega is without a mate, either by choice or tragic events; they are forced into prostitution. It is a sad reality and possible outcome to many. Hence, many Omegas forged paths of quiet defiance, proving that they too are strong without a mate.

Click.

"Can you, please, get a bit closer?" The photographer asks, practically begging at this point.

Wonwoo heaves out a sigh while your shoulders slump, tired from having spent the entire morning posing for your wedding portrait. While it was true that you were somewhat excited to have finally found your mate, let’s just say of all the possible occupations you’ve come up with, a mafia boss was not on that list.

Hell, not even the Jeon Wonwoo was on your list.

The mob boss takes a step closer, placing both hands on your hips and the photographer beams at the sight. “Yes, yes! Just like that!” he exclaims, pulling out his camera as he continues to snap more portraits. Wonwoo feels your body tense up from the close proximity so he leans in close to your ear. “Relax, doll,” he whispers, “You’re tense and you look terrified. Nobody is going to believe that we’re ‘in love’ if you keep this up.”

Click.

“I-I’m sorry,” you squeaked, the grip you had on the bouquet of flowers tightening slightly, “ ‘M just nervous…” “Oh, I know you are, doll.” Wonwoo turns his head slightly, nuzzling his nose into your hair and you let out a quiet gasp, “I can smell it. Do I scare you that much, hmm? Having second thoughts because your mate is the infamous mob boss?” He lets out a low chuckle when you shake your head profusely, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you. “Keep your eyes on the camera, darling. Once this is over, you can go right back home.”

Click.

“Shouldn’t we make preparations for the ceremony?” you asked, ��What about the cake? The venue? The–”

“Don’t stress your pretty head, doll,” Wonwoo says, giving your hips a light squeeze, “I’ve settled everything and your preferences have been taken into account, too. I’ll contact you for the cake tasting and venue checking.”

“And, it’s a wrap!” the photographer announces with a wide smile, “Thank you so much Mr and Mrs Jeon! I promise you won’t be disappointed with the results!”

You weren’t sure if the photographer was always this… enthusiastic with his clients. Or if he was holding himself back from pissing himself. ‘I’d be terrified too if the Jeons were my client…’

Not one soul didn’t know who the Jeons were. What started off as a small group of delinquents had eventually grown into one of the largest mobs to run Ashville. The man who started it all, Jeon Wonsoong, was a man who could send even the Devil running with its tail between its legs. While most mobsters were practically built on wealth, the Jeons’ were quite the opposite.

Jeon Wonsoong had built the mob of the Jeon family from scratch – from the literal blood, sweat and tears of his companions and oftentimes, those who had crossed him. The Jeons had their respect earned, not given on a silver platter. Many have mocked Wonsoong when he began building a name for the family – claiming that he was too ambitious, that he’d be better off as an underling.

They were the very same people he’s overthrown.

Just a mention of the Jeon family name was enough to drain anyone’s face of their colour.

Decades later, enter Jeon Wonwoo, the one and only beloved grandson of Jeon Wonsoong. Wonwoo already had the responsibilities of being the next mob boss ever since his mother’s pregnancy was announced. Wonwoo grew up watching how the “family business” worked, seeing his father fire bullets through heads after heads of rivals or anyone and anything that could be a threat to the family.

The poor boy was terrified at first but by the time his teenage years rolled around, he’s pretty much grown numb to the fear and squeamish feeling of seeing piles of bloodied dead bodies.

He’s watched the drug dealings, the smuggling – the most atrocious crimes or businesses known to man would be committed by the Jeons’, yet they would refuse to inflict any form of harm onto women and/or children for pleasure.

Wonwoo remembered bringing it up to his father when he was 16.

“Your grandpa is a family man, son. He’d never harm a child for the wrongdoings their parents have done – that’s why he takes them into the family and raises them to be his men.”

“What about crimes against women?”

“Crimes against women is unfortunately something that cannot be stopped, regardless whether or not the perpetrators are in a mob,” Wonsoong replies as he enters the room, one hand linked with his grandmother’s while the other held onto his walking stick, “We may be mob bosses, crime lords – whatever it is they call us, Wonwoo, but, causing harm to women and children for pleasure is a monstrosity I will not allow this organisation to ever commit. Your grandmother was assaulted for choosing me over some rich bastard – your uncles and I broke their arms, castrated them before making them kneel in front of her family to beg for forgiveness.”

“His heart is in the right place,” Wonwoo’s grandmother added on, “While being a mob boss or part of a mob gang is less than ideal for anyone, at least your grandfather shows some levels of decency as a human being.”

“So… in the scenario one of our members has assaulted, or caused harm to women or children in any way, what happens to them? Do they get their bones broken and then castrated?”

“That was back in the good old days, my dear grandson,” Wonsoong chuckled, “Now, they are battered and bruised, fingers cut, and castrated – before being shot thrice.”

Sure, it’s terrifying to have the entire nation’s economy in the palm of a mafia family.

Yeah, the occasional stumbling upon a body being dumped in certain areas could be traumatising. Hell, it even caused mass panic.

But, citizens soon learnt one saying, “Don’t cause the Jeons trouble, and trouble won’t find you”. A fancy way of saying, “If you don’t want to be the next corpse, don’t fuck with the Jeons”.

Because all the bodies found were individuals who have crossed them.

You stare at the wedding venue, brows furrowed as you take in the sight. You knew the Jeons had a taste for dark aesthetic, but you weren’t expecting the wedding decorations to be all black.

You weren’t exactly a superstitious person, but you did believe in the superstition that the colour black brings misfortune.

“Are the decorations up to your expectations, Mr Jeon?” the receptionist nervously asks, “We’ve followed the reference pictures and instructions you’ve given us.”

“Umm… Could I –” your breath catches in your throat when both men turn their attention to you. Wonwoo raises an eyebrow, “Not to your liking, doll?”

“No! No! The decorations are beautiful and the venue itself is grand,” you began, “But… Could we add a little bit of colour?”

The alpha crosses his arms, “Colour? You want to add colour?” He gestures to the venue, “You do realise that everything here is decorated with intention, right? Black represents strength, power, control. It’s to show dominance –”

You cut him off, “This is my wedding, too. Don’t I get a say in this?”

Wonwoo’s gaze hardens at your interruption, clearly not used to anyone defying him; much less an Omega that’s his soon-to-be wife. He narrows his eyes, a way to get you to back down without being too dominating so as to not scare off the beta of a receptionist; but you stood your ground. The air thickens, charged with tension.

“A little colour won’t hurt this black theme you have going on, Mr Jeon,” you state, crossing your own arms and taking a step forward, “You can have all the power and control you want, but I also deserve a say in how this day looks because it’s also my day.”

The silence hangs between you both, the weight of your words settling in. The receptionist watches with a bated breath and for a moment, you wonder if you’ve pushed too far. But then Wonwoo shifts, uncrossing his arms and turns to the receptionist, “Accommodate whatever requests the missus has.”

The receptionist visibly relaxes, nodding quickly as he whips out his tablet and moves to stand beside you as you walk around the venue, listing out the changes you wanted done.

“I love the black roses bouquet you’ve lined up down the aisle, but please add in some red roses. Switch out the black ribbons on the vases for white ones; you can barely see anything!”

Approaching the tables, you pick up one of the black napkins that’s been folded into a rose. You turn to the receptionist, “I want all the black napkins gone. Replace them with a burgundy red.” The receptionist jots down every detail, his fingers moving swiftly across the tablet screen as you continue to inspect the venue. Wonwoo watches you silently, impressed as you move with purpose and an air of confidence – something he rarely sees in an Omega.

You stare at the chairs that are draped in black fabric. “Are we welcoming death? I get the whole idea of this wedding to let it be known that you’re a mob boss, but at least have something that shows you have taste.”

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow at your bluntness before the corners of his mouth twitch into a small smirk. There’s a glimmer of amusement in his eyes, but his gaze still holds a steady weight, almost as though he’s studying you.

“Taste…” he echoes, his voice low, as if contemplating your word. “This is a wedding, doll, not some fashion show.”

You gently graze your fingertips over the black fabric, “Exactly, a wedding. I get that this whole… dark and mysterious aesthetic is your thing, Mr Jeon, but at least have a bit of sophistication.”

You turn to face him fully, “I’m not asking for colourful flowers or for them to be placed everywhere or even pink ribbons. Just a little bit of refinement so it doesn’t look like a funeral.”

Wonwoo’s eyes narrow slightly, and he watches you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. He takes a step forward, his hands shoved into his pockets as he peers at the receptionist's tablet. “You’re changing everything, aren’t you?”

You meet his gaze, letting out a shaky breath as you try to maintain your confidence, “Not everything. Just enough for it to… look more like a wedding.”

The air remains thick, but there’s no hostility; just a slow understanding that’s beginning to form. After a few seconds, the Alpha lets out a quiet breath and gives a slight nod. “Alright, doll. I trust your judgement.”

He turns and walks out of the venue, saying he has a business call he needs to answer. The receptionist turns his attention back to you, “What would you like to be done with the chairs, um… Mrs Jeon..?”

You give the receptionist a small smile, “You can call me Miss Park. I’m not yet married to him to be called Mrs Jeon.”

The receptionist chuckles nervously, “Not exactly a chance I would want to take, umm… Missus.”

“Hmm, I’ll accept that term. Back to the chairs – let’s switch the black fabric for a red fabric, similar to the napkins. Have a black sash tied into a bow at the back, is that doable?”

The receptionist nods excitedly, tapping away at the tablet as he realises his commission for this wedding may be enough to seal him a quick vacation. “Yes, of course it is, Missus! Would that be all?”

You take one last look at the venue, glancing up at the chandeliers, “Just soften the lighting and we’re all settled.”

That was approximately six months ago, which means it’s been six months since your marriage to Jeon Wonwoo became official.

Park ___. That's your name, that’s who you are.

A small corner shop florist that was everyone’s go-to for event planning or last minute flowers. Everyone knew you by your flower shop. They knew you by your smile. They knew you as "the flower lady who always got your back!”.

Never in a million years would you think that you’d now be known as Jeon Wonwoo’s wife. Jeon Wonwoo’s Omega. Jeon Wonwoo’s mate.

To be frank, you hated the fact that all your years of hard work were being overlooked now that you were married or bound to Ashville’s most nefarious and powerful mob boss.

Your name, once synonymous with ambition and independence, was now whispered in hushed tones, attached only to his. Your achievements, your sacrifices, all the blood and sweat you had poured into carving your own path no longer mattered. To them, you were nothing more than an Omega claimed by an Alpha who took whatever he wanted.

The weight of your new… identity settles on your shoulders in tons. You imagined several shackles were locked around your limbs, cold and unyielding. It didn’t matter that you had built a name for yourself. Now, you were just his.

And the entire city knew it.

You hated the look people would give you – some with fear, some with pity. Others had a look of cruel amusement, as though they were watching a wild animal realising its cage had no door. That the cage was its new home.

It made your blood boil. You weren’t some weak, whimpering Omega who would roll over and get all submissive at the mere scent of their Alpha. You fought to stand where you were. But damn it all, thanks to the stupid bind fate had planned.

Wonwoo sat beside you in the limousine, both of you having just left a dinner event that was hosted by one of Wonwoo’s allies that was meant to celebrate his wedding. Not both of your weddings, just his. The entire night, you had been paraded around as though you were nothing more than an extension of him – his Omega, his possession, his wife. No one toasted to you, no one acknowledged you beyond hushed whispers and fleeting glances.

You clenched your fists, fingers curling into the fabric of your dress.

“You’re upset,” Wonwoo states, his voice smooth and calculating, the corners of his mouth lifting in a faint, amused smirk. “What’s bothering you, doll?”

“Don’t,” your tone came sharper than expected, so you took a deep breath to calm your nerves. Your voice was less hostile when you spoke again, “Don’t call me that, please.”

Wonwoo’s smirk didn’t falter, but there was something in his eyes – amusement mixed with the faintest hint of challenge. He tilts his head, studying you as if you were some artifact or priceless painting that’s been put up for display. “Don’t call you what?” he asked, his voice now softer, but the command in his words can’t be missed.

You swallowed thickly, trying to mask the storm inside you as you held your ground. “Don’t call me doll,” you repeated, this time with more conviction. There was a slight tremble in your voice, betraying the raw emotion you were trying to suppress. “I… I’m not a doll, or some object. I’m a person.”

Wonwoo’s remains unreadable, though the intensity of his gaze and his posture didn’t change. But, there was a subtle shift, a quiet acknowledgment in his eyes. “I see my Omega bites back,” he chuckles, his tone teasing but there was a hint of respect behind it. “I must say, it’s quite… refreshing… Or, entertaining, for lack of a better word.”

You frown, “Entertaining?”

His eyes scanned your face, but there was no mockery in his gaze. Instead, there was something more akin to admiration, though when it comes to Jeon Wonwoo, deciphering any of his words or looks was like trying to get pigs to fly. “Well, it’s not every day you see an Omega go head-to-head with an Alpha. Especially if the Omega is now under the Jeon Family.”

“I can play that pretty little housewife you’re picturing,” you mumble, releasing your clenched fists in favour of crossing your arms, looking out the window, “Just don’t expect me to be all pliant and submissive twenty-four seven.”

Another deep chuckle leaves his lips. Something about his words, about how he says you were the first Omega to not heel to traditions makes you feel oddly proud. It was clear he still had his guard up, but at least in this moment, you could tell he’s trying not to push your boundaries or you too far.

“Relax, babydoll.”

Hmm… Perhaps you could accept that pet name. It’s much better than being called ‘doll’.

His voice is less teasing but there was still that underlying sharpness. “You’re still you, despite what society says. That defiance you have there? There’s power in that. Not many dare to challenge the expectations placed on them. Especially Omegas.”

His words sunk in, not as an insult, but as an observation; a praise. It was one that left you feeling both uncertain yet strangely affirmed. It’s the first time in a while that someone, aside from your parents, recognised your rebellion, your defiance as something more than just a nuisance. Let alone an alpha like Jeon Wonwoo.

He reaches out a hand, finding purchase on your thigh. You tense at his touch, the heat of his hand sending a jolt of electricity through your body. But, you don’t pull away, feeling the warmth of his fingers through the fabric of your dress.

“I see that fire you’ve got in you, ___,” he continues, his fingers slowly tracing the curve of your thigh, “And it’s not just for show, too.”

Your tone came out sharper than you intended when you replied, “You think you can control that?”

A sly smirk tugs at his lips, “Control? It’d be fun to break you, sure, but… I quite like the idea of having a feisty Omega by my side. Believe me, babydoll, I know what it’s like to prove yourself to be seen and acknowledged. I had to do the same to prove it to my father and grandfather. You didn’t think I was handed this position just like that, did you?”

"I don’t doubt you had to fight for it," you say quietly. "But I’m not here for a power struggle. Not with you, not with anyone."

He shifts slightly, giving your thigh a firm squeeze. “Look, babydoll, I don’t expect you to bend over my desk or lap whenever I tell you to. But, I do expect you to listen to me when it comes to your safety or if you’re ever caught in the crossfire of my dealings. Is that understood?”

You meet his gaze, feeling a shiver run down your spine. The grip he had on your thigh had goosebumps rising, but the touch wasn’t just possessive; it was also protective. A silent reminder.

“I know you’re more than capable of handling yourself, babydoll. But being capable doesn’t mean you have to face every danger alone, and in my world, in my life, it’s not kind to the unprepared despite their capabilities to be able to stand up for themselves.”

You bite back the words you want to say, about how you weren’t some fragile porcelain doll. That you didn’t need him to look after you like you’re some helpless Omega –

“I’m not asking you to give up the control you have over your life. I can see as clear as day that you’ve been able to manage just fine without an Alpha.” Oh.

“What I’m asking from you is to trust me when it matters. I know this marriage is out of convenience, for the sake of the mating bond, but you’re not someone I’m willing to let slip through the cracks either. Not without a fight.”

His words pulled your defenses down just a little, but you still held on tight to the edges of your resolve. Perhaps it was because of the many judgemental and snide comments you’ve received from others, especially Alphas, in the past that made you want to argue with him. The way he speaks, so calm and measured, you were itching to fight back.

But, something in his eyes stops you. There was no sign of mockery, no superiority – just a raw honesty you’d never thought you’d see in an Alpha. Much less the one that practically rules over the entire city.

“I didn’t ask for any of this…” You voiced out, sounding quieter than you’d intended. “I didn’t ask for you to be my mate. I didn’t ask for you to try and protect me.”

While he doesn’t flinch at your words, there’s a shift in his posture, a subtle tense in his shoulders that tells you he isn’t completely unaffected by your words.

“I know, babydoll,” his tone now tinged with something that feels like understanding, “But, believe me when I say that I am not asking for your submission. I’m asking for your trust. If I wanted to control you, I would’ve made that clear six months ago.”

“Can’t believe those bastards had to wait six months to do this stupid party…” you mumbled, cheeks heating up as you realised you sound like a girl throwing a little tantrum.

Wonwoo chuckles, “Well, our schedules have been overlapping. I think they expected us to go on a honeymoon for a while.”

“Tch, as if I’d ever want to be on the same bed as you.”

“Moving back to the topic earlier, I’m not asking for a leash, babydoll,” his voice is low, almost soothing. “I’m asking you to let me stand by your side when the world gets too heavy. Because it will. And when that happens... I don’t want you to face it alone. All I ask for is your trust and to let me understand you.”

You’re unsure of what to say next, the weight of his gaze making it difficult to think clearly. You’ve spent almost your entire life resisting the idea of relying on anyone, but here he is, asking for something as simple as your trust.

The sincerity in his words linger, and for the first time, you wonder if you’ve misjudged the Alpha. Maybe he wasn’t like the others that were trying to force their way into an Omega’s life. Maybe he wasn’t looking to bend or break an Omega so they’d be solely dependent on their Alpha.

Maybe he too was looking for something different. Something that goes beyond fated bonds and forced relationships.

You look at him, and for the first time, you allow yourself to wonder if there’s a part of you that could trust him.

He pulls his hand away from your thigh, fingers lingering for just a second longer than necessary, as if reluctant to break the contact.

“But, there’s clearly something bothering you, babydoll. C’mon, out with it.”

You hesitate, lips parting, but no words come out. You’re not sure where to start or if you even want to start. Part of you still wants to keep everything bottled up, to keep your walls firmly in place. But then there’s him, sitting beside you with that quiet patience, the intensity in his gaze softened just enough to make you believe he might actually care about what you’re about to say.

You shift slightly in your seat, arms tightening around yourself. “That… That Juyeon guy at the dinner…”

Wonwoo's expression darkens almost instantly, the warmth in his gaze snuffed out like a candle. His jaw tightens, and though he remains still, you can feel the way his entire body tenses at the mention of another Alpha’s name.

“And, what about him, babydoll?” His voice is calm, a little too calm. It’s the kind that you know he won’t like your answer.

You swallow hard, “He… The way he spoke to me…”

You sigh, “Look, I know it’s inevitable that people will start addressing by ‘title’ instead of my name. Wonwoo’s Omega. Wonwoo’s wife. But, I don’t like it being said in a condescending tone. The way he called or referred to me as Wonwoo’s little Omega felt as though I was just another weapon or gun you’ve added to your already large collection.”

You shift a little, the frustration simmering beneath your skin as you try to put your feelings into words. “I don’t want to be reduced to that. To just another thing you own. It’s already hard enough that I had to not cuss him out for trying to feel me up the entire time…”

Wonwoo stills.

For a moment, there’s nothing but silence. Heavy. Suffocating.

The air between you crackles with something dangerous. His expression doesn’t change, doesn’t twist in anger or morph into something openly furious, but the sheer stillness of him is enough to make the hairs on your arms stand on end.

“Say that again, babydoll” he orders, and though it’s barely above a whisper, it’s the sharpest you’ve ever heard his voice. “What did you just say?”

For a moment, you wonder if you’ve screwed up by making such an accusation or statement about his associate. But, you pushed on, “Juyeon… He kept brushing up against me on the table. Placing his hand on my knee, my thigh. He’d touch my back too when he had the chance.”

Wonwoo doesn’t speak. Doesn’t move.

But then, he slowly exhales through his nose, running his tongue along the inside of his cheek as if trying to keep his composure.

“I see.”

Two simple words. And yet, something about the way he says them sends a cold shiver down your spine.

“Wonwoo–”

“Mingyu,” he calls out to the driver.

“Yeah, boss?”

“Tell Jihoon to pass a message to Juyeon. I’d like to have dinner with him tomorrow night. Just the two of us.”

“You got it, boss.”

“Wonwoo!”

“I told you I’d stand by you when it matters,” Wonwoo repeats his earlier statement, his voice softer now, but no less intense. “And this matters.”

You swallow, finding it harder to resist the pull of his words than you care to admit. The stubborn part of you wants to fight him, wants to tell him you don’t need his help, but you can’t deny how much relief it brings to know he won’t just stand idly as you get disrespected.

For the first time, you allow yourself to believe that he might actually be a good guy.

“You… run a clothing line?”

Wonwoo looks up from his desk, his eyes on you as you stand by one of the many shelves he’s lined up on the walls. In your hands was a photo frame with a photo of him and a blonde man standing side-by-side in front of a building.

“Is that very surprising, babydoll?” he asks, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Just because my family runs the mafioso doesn’t mean I have to just run that business.”

Behind the pair was a store with the sign J&W. Wonwoo said it’s a combination of their initials, a collaboration of some sorts. When you asked why he can’t just open one under his own name, his reply was simply, “You really think people would dare to set foot into a shop that’s under my name?”

“This man… Is he a business partner? Shareholder?” A shadow looms over you and tilting your head backwards, it sits comfortably against his broad shoulder. Wonwoo hums, “You could say that. He’s… I consider Jeonghan a friend and if you know me well or long enough, I don’t offer my trust easily.”

“I’m guessing that trust also applies to the hiring process of your bodyguards?”

You’ve counted a maximum of… six bodyguards during your stay at his mansion. Well, excluding his right-hand man, Jihoon, that makes five. “Some… unfortunate incidents happened when I was younger that started my trust issues.”

His voice drops just a little, one hand coming up to rest on your waist. You don’t miss the way his jaw clenches briefly before relaxing, as though catching himself before slipping too deep into memory.

“Jihoon and I have known each other since childhood. Family relations all that so it’s natural I came to trust him.”

“The others?”

“They’ve earned their place and my trust.”

You look down at the frame before tilting your head back up, raising it a little, “And Jeonghan?”

Wonwoo takes the item from your hand, as if examining it before handing it back to you. “Ah, Jeonghan…” A quiet chuckle slips past his lips, “Let’s say he’s a different story… I actually met him through Seungcheol, one of the bodyguards. You’ve probably seen him around – buff, kind of gray-ish hair.”

“The one that’s always butting heads with Mingyu?”

A flicker of surprise crosses his features, “So you’ve been paying attention.” Amusement laces his tone, clearly not expecting you to do so. You narrowed your eyes, “Well, if I weren’t aware of my surroundings, I wouldn’t have been able to survive this long until you showed up, can I?”

He gives your waist a firm squeeze, pressing a kiss to your temple, an action that catches you off guard. “I suppose you have a point, babydoll,” he concedes, voice low. “And I suppose it’s hard to ignore the two when they’re at each other’s throat.”

You roll your eyes. “Well, they’re not exactly subtle… Or quiet. It is interesting to see Mingyu surrender or lower his head, though…”

Wonwoo chuckles, taking the frame off your hands and setting it back on the shelf. “They’re both betas, but Seungcheol does have more of a… I guess more dominant nature. We’d suspected him of being an Alpha initially, but tests proved otherwise.” He adjusts the frame slightly before turning his attention back to you. “Still, that doesn’t stop him from acting like one.”

“And Mingyu just… lets him?”

The Alpha shrugs his shoulders. “Mingyu respects strength. He may not always like it, but he knows when to back down.”

You hum in thought. “And Jeonghan? Where does he fit into all of this?”

“He and Seungcheol go way back if I’m not mistaken. I don’t know the full details, but from what I’ve gathered and from what they’ve told me respectively, they used to work together before Seungcheol decided to have a change in career paths.”

Another squeeze to your waist, “Jeonghan… plays by his own rules. Always has.”

You frown slightly, clearly confused by his words. “What do you mean?”

“He’s a businessman,” Wonwoo says simply, though there’s something guarded in the way he says it. “And like all businessmen, he knows how to get what he wants.”

That doesn’t quite answer your question, but you know better than to push too hard.

“Is he dangerous?”

Wonwoo’s lips curl at the question, but it’s anything but a smile. “He’s charming, I’ll give him that.. And that makes him the most dangerous of all.”

A shiver runs down your spine. You don’t know if it’s from his tone or the way his fingers finally slide away from your skin.

The air in the mansion felt… different.

You couldn’t exactly put a finger on it, but it just felt as though there was a shift to your surroundings. Your heart was racing despite it being a calm and quiet day, Wonwoo was out discussing a fashion deal and majority of the staff in his mansion were given specific orders to not bother you unless needed.

Your heart was racing faster than usual, your senses were heightened in a way that made your skin feel alive – and not in a good way. It was in a way that made your head dizzy. It was subtle at first, a warmth curling in your lower belly, an uncomfortable tingle spreading across your limbs that makes your skin far too sensitive to the air around you.

You ignored it at first – or at least, you tried to.

The mansion was eerily quiet. The grand halls, lined with cold marble and towering windows. Despite housing the most dangerous mafioso and his bodyguards, it felt safe. But, it could be because of Wonwoo’s presence and his pheromones.

Now, each step you took felt heavier, every breath felt sharper, and the very air felt charged with something oppressive.

You knew this feeling. You had been trained to recognise it.

But it was too soon. Far too soon.

You’ve kept track of your heat since it was revealed that you were an Omega. You’ve made sure to take your suppressants on time to prevent any mishaps, never missing a single dose. Yet, despite your careful planning and discipline…

Could it be Wonwoo’s pheromones?

It had to be – your cycle wasn’t due for another week, give or take.

You pressed a sweaty palm against the nearest wall, a sudden wave of dizziness washing over you. It started as a slow burn in your veins, a heat that swirled in your stomach and spread outwards.

It was definitely your heat. You could feel it creeping up, threatening to consume you if you didn’t act fast.

“Missus..?”

Mingyu.

“Missus, you don’t look so well,” the Beta points out, taking a step forward.

It was times like these that you were grateful for Wonwoo insisting that his staff were Betas. Before you came into the picture, it was to ensure no crossfires ever happened between him and an Alpha staff. Two or more Alphas under the same roof with some kind of “power imbalance” could lead to a hostile environment, and Wonwoo prefers peace and quiet… despite the field of work he’s in.

After you came into the picture, Wonwoo would answer that he didn’t want any unclaimed or stray Alphas pouncing on his Omega.

Mingyu sniffs the air and his ears perk up as he catches a whiff of sweetness in the air. It was sweet like candy and he instantly knew what was going on. Thankfully, his training somewhat prepared him for scenarios like this, albeit it was catered more towards Alphas.

“Missus, do you have any suppressants?” Mingyu, taking a cautious step forward so as not to agitate you. You shook your head, letting out a small sniffle, “I ran out of them… I-I was planning to get them some time this week because it isn’t due for another–”

“Okay, well, I could text Boss to pick some up for you once he’s done with his meeting,” the giant suggests, reaching out a hand to steady you when he notices the slight wobble in your stance. “In the meantime, you shouldn’t be out and about, Missus… Let’s get you–”

“What’s going on here?” Jihoon, Wonwoo’s right-hand, interrupts Mingyu’s sentence. The tall beta freezes, his hand hovering near your arm but not quite touching. His jaw clenched, glancing over his shoulder, meeting Jihoon’s sharp, assessing gaze.

Unlike Mingyu, who was all warmth and concern, Jihoon carried an air of cold efficiency, his presence cutting through the charged atmosphere like a blade. The right-hand man’s eyes flicker to you, his nostrils flaring slightly as he picks up on 

Jihoon’s eyes flicker to you, nostrils flaring slightly as he picks up on what Mingyu already had. His brows furrow, and a barely-there sigh escapes his lips. “Shit,” he muttered, noticing the way you swayed slightly against the wall, trying to regain your balance.

Mingyu lowered his hand, deciding that it was best to keep a respectful distance from you. “Missus is having a bit of a… situation,” he said, his tone careful. “She’s early and ran out of her suppressants. I was gonna text Boss–”

“Call him.” The right-hand man’s voice carried an authority that was impossible to ignore. While his eyes softened just a touch as your discomfort, they still held that calculative gaze.

The tall giant was hesitant, his thumb hovering over the screen of his phone. Every one of Wonwoo’s staff knew that calling him while he’s in any sort of meeting was serious. Texting was discreet, something that could be swept under the rug or dealt with later. But a call meant urgency. It meant that Wonwoo would have to drop everything, no matter what he was doing, to deal with the situation.

But a look from Jihoon has Mingyu cursing under his breath, tapping the call button and pressing the phone to his ear.

“Missus,” Jihoo’s tone while still authoritative, was softer than before. His gaze flickered to your hands that were trembling at your sides and against the wall. “Give me your hand.”

You’re momentarily confused, blinking up at him then lowering your gaze to his outstretched hand. His voice carried a quiet but insistent command, and despite the overwhelming wave of hormones washing over you, you obediently did so.

“You’ll be okay,” Jihoon murmured, though it seems he was reminding you rather than comforting you. “All the staff here are Betas, I’m sure Boss told you that. Your heat won’t affect us so there’s no need to fear us jumping on you.”

His gaze returns to Mingyu who’s speaking on the phone. “Won’t be long before Boss gets back. I’ll take you back to your room.” You nod your head, though you weren’t sure if it was in response to his reassurance or because you knew that your legs couldn’t walk without someone guiding you.

The walk through the halls felt like an endless blur, the air thick with both the scent of your heat and the tension of the situation. Your heart pounded in your ears, your breaths coming in short, uneven pants. The mansion, usually cold, felt suffocating now.

You barely registered when Jihoon pushed open a door, guiding you inside the room. You entered without a second thought, freezing when the scent hit you.

This wasn’t your room.

Your body recognised it before your mind did – the faint traces of musk, crisp cologne, and something that was deeply ingrained in your instincts. Your entire being tenses as you realised exactly where Jihoon had brought you.

Wonwoo’s room.

You let out a whimper, the lingering remnants of the Alpha’s pheromones made your entire body tense. He wasn’t even here yet, and you were already drowning in him. You stared at the king-sized bed, your body wanting to sink into it, to bury yourself in the softness of the sheets that still held the imprint of his presence. But, the rational part of your mind knew better.

Your sluggish thoughts tried to fight through the dizzying fog, “Jihoon, this- this isn't–”

“I know, Missus,” he interrupts cooly, “But, I'm going to assume this is your first heat that's induced by an Alpha’s pheromones. It'd be best to get used to Boss’ pheromones – not just for your heat, but for your well-being too.”

“Well-being?”

With surprising gentleness, he guides you to the edge of Wonwoo’s massive bed, lowering you to sit onto the cool sheets. It was a stark contrast to your fevered skin. Your mind screamed for you to leave, to fight the Beta and make a run for it to your room – but your body betrays you as it reacts to the lingering scent of Wonwoo’s pheromones. 

Before you can do anything, you instinctively crawl onto the bed, your fingers clutching at the sheets beneath you as you’re pulled towards the only source of comfort in your current suffocating haze. You somewhat collapsed onto the mattress, burying your face into it and inhaling deeply, a pathetic whimper slipping past your lips as your thighs clench with need.

Your fingers curled into the fabric, your entire body as the Alpha’s scent wrapped around you like a vice.

You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be reacting like this.

You should be fighting this, clawing your way out of this haze and demanding to be taken back to your own room where you can suffer through this alone. But your instincts don’t care for logic. Instead, you’re in Wonwoo’s room, trembling and desperate, drowning in a need so raw it leaves you gasping.

You hated how easy it was to succumb.

And then it happens.

A shift in the air.

A choked noise left your lips as his scent filled the room completely, no longer just a lingering trace but a full, undeniable presence.

You sit up immediately, turning your head back to the door behind you before you can even think. It was an instinct, your body responding to an unspoken command before your mind can even have time to process anything.

“Nonu…”

Wonwoo definitely broke several speed limits on his way back to base.

The second he saw Mingyu’s name flash across his phone screen – not a text, but a phone call – he knew something was wrong. He brought the device to his ear, nothing more than a clipped ‘Speak’. Once Mingyu announced ‘Missus is early’, he ended the call and left the meeting without a word.

He didn’t care who was speaking. Didn’t care about the confused stares or hushed murmurs as he strode out the boardroom.

The only thing that mattered to him was getting back to you.

He stopped by a pharmacy, picking up several bottles of heat suppressants and a few cooling patches before speeding the rest on his way home.

Wonwoo storms through the halls of the base, his coat thrown onto the couch, his tie loosened and his jaw set tight.

Everyone knew they had to stay the hell out of his way.

His staff, the Betas, moved to the sides, pressing their back against the walls as he passed. Nobody dared to meet his gaze, not even Seungcheol – especially when the Alpha’s scent was laced with irritation – thick and suffocating in the air.

Grabbing a bottle of suppressants and a packet of heat patches from the plastic bag, he tosses the bag to a nearby staff. “Chan, store the suppressants in the missus’ bathroom cabinet. Cooling patches go in the mini fridge for her skincare.”

Chan nodded quickly, following the instructions.

Approaching his room, Jihoon steps aside from the door and slips past him without so much as a glance back. There was nothing that needed to be said. The right-hand man had done his job. Now, it was Wonwoo’s turn.

He entered the room and his expression was unreadable as he took in the scene before him. His nose twitched as your pheromones had practically covered every corner of his room. Sensing his presence, he watches as you sit up on your knees, head turning back and making eye contact with him.

“Nonu…”

He hears your breath hitch as he draws closer, his footsteps slow and deliberate.

“You really are a handful…” His voice was smooth, almost lazy. But, there was something else beneath it, something dark. It caused a shiver to run through you. Whether from arousal or fear, you’re not sure.

He steps closer, footsteps slow and deliberate. With each step he takes, a spike of awareness shot throughout your body. Your body reacts instinctively to his presence, knees pressing together in an attempt to soothe the ache inside your stomach. But, you knew it wouldn’t work.

Nothing did.

Not the cool sheets, not the distance that grew shorter and shorter.

By the time Wonwoo reaches the edge of the bed, your entire frame is trembling. He tilts his head to the side and exhales slowly, running a hand through his hair.

“Nonu…”

Fuck. Your voice sounded so wrecked that the Alpha’s breath stuttered for just a second.

It sounded so needy, trembling with something raw that managed to slip through the cracks of Wonwoo’s self-restraint. His fingers twitched at his side before crossing his arms in front of his chest, the black button up straining slightly against his forearms and chest.

Your mind grew foggy as his scent grew thicker, wrapping around you completely. Before your mind could even process it, your body moved on its own – crawling to the edge of the bed to be closer to where he stood.

Wonwoo didn’t understand why Jihoon would bring you to his room (he does, he just doesn’t want to acknowledge it). You should be locked in your room, alone and away from him. Yet, here you were – right in the center of his personal space, clinging to the sheets like they were the only thing anchoring you to your senses.

The worst part of it all?

You looked like you belonged there.

He reaches out, cupping your cheek and tilting your head up. A small, needy whimper slips from your lips before you even realise. He orders you to stay still and you do, opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue. Wonwoo presses the pill to your tongue and the bitter taste barely registers past the haze in your mind.

“Swallow.”

You obey instantly, throat bobbing as you swallow the suppressant without protest. You opened your mouth again, showing him that you had done exactly as he ordered.

Wonwoo’s jaw tightened.

The fact that you took the suppressant without much fight should have relieved him, but it didn’t.

Because your lips trembled.

Because your pupils remain dilated.

You close your mouth, another whimper slipping free as you nuzzle your cheek into the palm of his hand that cupped your cheek. Both of you knew the heat won’t subside immediately, that it would take up to hours for the suppressant to actually kick in.

After a few moments, Wonwoo pulls his hand away and lets out a slow, measured breath.

“Good girl.”

Two words.

Just two simple words.

And yet, your entire body shudders.

His eyes darkened for a brief second before he stood to his full height, pulling his hand away as he took a step back. You whine at the loss of his hand against your kin, blinking up at him and Wonwoo swallows hard.

“Don’t.” His voice came out tighter than he intended, “Don’t look at me like that, babydoll.”

Like he was the only thing you needed.

Like he was the only one that could save you.

“Nonu, please,” you whined, “Make the pain go away.”

Wonwoon’s self-control snapped and before he could even think, he was on you. One hand came up to cup the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair as he tilted your head up.

And then he kissed you.

Hard.

It wasn’t soft and gentle.

It was desperate – a clash of heat and hunger, of pent-up frustration.

You gasped into his mouth, fingers fisting into his shirt and his grip tightened. Wonwoo presses his lips harder against yours as he swallows every whimper, every soft plea. Your heat was drowning him, making him forget every single rule he had set for himself.

He knew this was reckless. Knew that this could have dire consequences.

But when you moaned against his lips, the noise soft and needy, every ounce of logic flew out the window. His tongue slid against yours, deepening the kiss as if he was attempting to steal the breath from your lungs. His hands moved, sliding down your thighs and gripping them just enough to make you gasp again.

Wonwoo thinks he could still salvage what little control he had as he presses you deeper into the mattress – at least until he hears you whisper his name. The sound was soft, pleading – ruined, even. And he realises that it was already too late.

He’s gone.

“I’ll only help you this one time,” Wonwoo’s voice was low, dangerously low. He sounded controlled, but the way his hand gripped your thighs; the way his gaze dropped to your lips betrayed the inner turmoil he was facing. “Understood?”

You nodded immediately and he narrowed his eyes. But there was no mistaking the way your body arched towards him like it already knew what it wanted. His hands slid up your sides and under your shirt – his rough, calloused hands running against your smooth skin.

Just this once, he told himself.

Just tonight.

Just until the suppressants kicked in.

“Nonu!”

Fuck. The way you cried out so prettily for him had him curl his fingers deeper inside you. He was supposed to be in control, not let his instincts take over. But, damn it, the way you begged his name in that desperate, pleading tone had him losing focus.

Truth be told, Wonwoo always had a distaste for the heat and rut cycles. They were messy, primal; a reminder of how little control he had when it came to instincts like this. His body screamed for release, for dominance, but discomfort clawed at his mind.

But, God, the way you reacted to him. Every touch, every whine of his name, it ignited something he couldn’t deny.

Your back is pressed against his chest, the fabrics clinging to your skin damp with sweat and fever, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. All you could feel was how good his fingers were working inside you – skillful and relentless.

The fabrics between you only intensified the ache. Your night shorts were thrown somewhere into the corner of his room, the shirt somewhat bunched around your hips while Wonwoo, still fully dressed, sat behind you with his back against the headboard. His chest felt warm against your back, the steady breaths he let out betraying the tension vibrating through his body.

You keened, one arm thrown back to hold the back of his neck in an attempt to ground yourself. “Nonu…” You whimpered, voice cracked and ruined. “N-Need more. Please, I–”

“I know,” he growls against the side of your neck, voice strained. His lips brushed your skin, not quite a kiss, but the warmth made your entire body shudder. “I know, babydoll. Your poor pussy needs more, right? Your heat has you all hot and aching, doesn't it?”

His free hand rests on your waist, anchoring you against him as his fingers curled again – this time slower, as though he’s searching for something. “She’s begging, babydoll. Dripping and sucking my fingers in like she knows who she belongs to.”

A sharp gasp leaves your lips and Wonwoo feels your body tremble. Your legs try to snap shut and he whispers into your ear, “That the spot?”

You nodded, back arching as his fingertips continue to bully your g-spot. You could feel him pulsing hard through his pants, pressed flush against your ass. Every clothes rut of his hips against you has you crying out – needy, frustrated.

Your thighs are trembling violently now, the tension coiling deep in your gut and it was ready to break. Wonwoo continues to stimulate that spongy spot, his fingers working to open you up with expert precision. “You’re close, aren’t you, babydoll?”

You could only nod, not trusting your words as your mouth parts to let out a high pitched moan as your body surged towards the edge. He presses his fingers until they’re knuckle deep inside you, curling up right against that spot as his thumb circles over your swollen clit.

“C’mon,” he rasps into your ear, “Cum for me.”

Your body obeyed before your mind could catch up.

White hot pleasure crashes over you like a tidal wave. Your vision blurs and your entire body seizes as you cried out, body jerking against the Alpha behind you as a gush of wetness spilled over his hand and soaking the sheets beneath you.

Wonwoo doesn’t move. Instead he holds you tighter, hands still resting between your legs but his thumb circles your clit in a manner that was meant to ground you. You're gasping and shaking in his arms, hands trying to push at his wrists, desperate but weak. You aren’t sure if it was overstimulation or if you wanted him to give you more.

His voice was low, full of something far too tender for the way his heart was racing – for the way he’d always acted. “Good girl. Did so well for me.”

Wonwoo looks down at you only to be met by you looking up at him, eyes glassy and lips parted in a silent plea. You were flushed and panting in his lap, slick coating his fingers.

Despite his distaste for these cycles, he knew he’d do it again.

He hated how much he realised he loved this, how he could pull those sounds from you.

But, he loved how he was the only one who could pull those noises from you.

Loved how you trusted him through it.

Wonwoo carefully pulls out his fingers, ready to move you back to your room – then you whimper out his name like it was a prayer meant just for him.

“Babydoll,” he growls lowly, voice rough and filled with warning. “Don’t look at me like that.”

Yet you did.

Maybe it was the scent of your heat. Maybe it was the way you clung to him, silently begging him. Maybe it was the way that nickname you called him rolled off your tongue like he was your God.

He’s quick to have you pressed against the mattress, hips flushed against yours as he finally gives in to the carnal pull. You hear him fumbling with his belt and the sound of his zipper coming undone. The sudden shift in the situation knocks the air straight from your lungs.

One moment he’s cradling you in his arms, the next you’re sprawled beneath him; his hands on either side of your head to not just keep himself up, but to keep you right where he wants you.

Where you need to be.

You gasp out his title – not his name or that cute lil nickname you just gave him, but his title. Your eyes fluttered shut as your fingers claw into the bedding, silently begging for him to just fill you up.

And he does.

In one thrust, he buries himself to the hilt and savours the way you cry out to him, body arching as your pussy clamps down on him.

He leans over you, chest pressed against yours, lips brushing over the shell of your ear. “Feel that, babydoll? That’s me shaping your pussy so that it only knows how to take my dick.” He pulls his hips back, just until only his tip remains inside before slamming forward, making sure you feel him in your womb. “Wanted me to fuck you? Well, I’m gonna give it to you.”

A needy sob escapes your lips as he sets a punishing pace; and he chuckles lowly, hot breath against your neck. His lips part and he bites down on your neck, hard, claiming the spot with a bruising mark. You gasp, the sting sending a jolt of pleasure through your core, causing your pussy to squeeze him tighter.

Wonwoo growls, hips stuttering for just a moment before he thrusts even deeper, harder – making sure your walls remember every vein, every inch.

“My sweet Omega,” he grunts against your skin, voice rough and possessive. His tongue darts out to soothe the bite. You mewl, feeling the imprint of his teeth as though he was trying to brand you as his.

Your hands scramble for purchase, settling on his back and your nails dragged down his back as he fucks you through every tremble, every whimper.

“You like that, dontcha babydoll?” he sits up, knees digging into the mattress as his hands grip your hips so tightly you were sure it’d start to bruise. All you could do was nod, tears gathering in the corner of your eyes.

“C’mon, babydoll,” he coos condescendingly, one hand sliding up your body to wrap itself loosely around your throat. He didn’t apply any pressure, just letting it sit there as a reminder of his control, his claim.

And it was like a switch flipped.

A sharp gasp escapes your lips, back arching off the mattress as more slick drips out of your pussy, creating a white ring of cream around the base of the Alpha’s cock.

You didn’t mean to react the way you did, and Wonwoo felt it.

The way your walls clenched around him tighter, the sudden wetness coating where your hips met.

“Oh?” his tone was dark with approval, “You like that?”

“S-So good, Alpha,” you choked out, mind growing hazy from your heat and the pleasure, “Love.. Love it so much! Feels s’good!”

His thrusts grew rougher as something primal took over. He removes his hand from your throat, sliding it down your body to rub tight circles over your clit. Your back arches as a sharp cry tears from your throat, body trembling uncontrollably. Slick gushes out from your pussy as you squirt again, drenching his shirt and milking his cock.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he growled, hips stuttering at the milking compression of your cunt. “Shit, I’m close, babydoll. And you're gonna let me fill you, isn’t that right?”

You nodded through the haze, words slurred by pleasure, “A-Alpha!”

That was all it took. With one final thrust, Wonwoo buries himself to the hilt as his cock twitches inside you as he cums deep inside you. 

The room was thick with the scent of your heat and sex, but all Wonwoo could hear was the sound of your soft, uneven breaths – body still trembling from the aftershocks of pleasure, barely conscious of anything except for the way he filled you to the brim.

He stayed buried inside you for a moment longer, reluctant to leave the warmth of your creamed pussy. But when he hears your soft whimper, noticing the way your body twitching from oversensitivity, he’s snapped back to reality.

Wonwoo groans as he carefully pulls out, a groan escaping his lips at the sight of his cum spilling out from you – coating the insides of your thighs and dripping onto the sheets beneath you. You whimper at the emptiness, at the sudden cold air on your overheated skin.

He doesn’t say anything, only tucking himself back into his pants and stands up.

For a moment, you thought he’d leave you in his room – maybe even go as far as to sleep in one of the guest rooms.

But then, you hear the faint rustling of the plastic bag before the mattress dips beside you.

Wonwoo leans over, gently brushing away the sweat-damp strands of hair from your forehead. You can barely keep your eyes open, the heat and aftermath pulling you under.

Then, coolness.

A soothing, mental chill spreads over your fevered skin as he places a cooling patch on your forehead. You let out a shaky breath, weakly reaching out for him.

Wonwoo takes them in his.

“Shh,” he murmurs, his voice no longer holding that sharp or commanding tone. Instead, it sounds softer. “I’ve got you babydoll.”

His other hand adjusts the sheets around your body, tugging the blanket up to your waist after retrieving your night shorts from the floor. He made sure your legs weren’t tangled, made sure you were comfortable.

You blinked up at him sleepily, cheeks still flushed a shade of red and lashes slightly damp. “Please stay, Nonu…”

He freezes.

For a moment, the only sound was his breath, still a little uneven. You could tell he was torn between his old habit of keeping you at arm’s length and giving into his instincts.

Without uttering a word, he eases under the covers beside you, gently pulling you into his chest. His arms wrapped around you, strong and warm, as he nuzzles his face in your hair. “Of course, babydoll. You’ll sleep easier if I’m here.”

Wonwoo never stays. Once he’s made sure you’re in good hands, he'd leave.

But, tonight wasn’t like the others.

Tonight, he stayed – not to keep his distance, but to keep you close.

Tonight, he stayed to protect you.

His.

You felt it then– the way he held you. Not like a favour, but like someone claiming what’s his.

Weeks after that incident during your heat, you and Wonwoo went on with your lives as though nothing had happened. The mansion returned to its usual rhythm – quiet mornings, the hum of the electric kettle.

Wonwoo buried himself in work, occasionally checking up on you as per his mother’s command, occasionally picking you up from your flower shop instead of leaving it to Mingyu. They were… small efforts into making the marriage look less of a business arrangement, but you appreciated it nonetheless.

You busied yourself with your own work, too. But, you’d still go grocery shopping and prepare meals for the people of the mansion (which frankly, was a task you overestimated because cooking for 6 people proved to be a difficult task). They’d thank you, of course – you went through all the time and effort – it’d be wrong for them not to appreciate it and clean up after themselves.

However, you were careful to not let yourself brush against the Alpha for too long. Nor would you let your thoughts drift back to the night where tangled limbs and breathless whispers once filled the space.

While you both went on with your lives, acting as though nothing had happened – there was a subtle shift in the air.

Mingyu was the first to notice it.

Being one of the bulkier guards, he had been stationed at the mansion to keep an eye on things during your off days. It was a simple routine he took a liking to – he gets to have a nice conversation with less scarier missus and it was considered low stake.

That morning started out no different than the others. You passed him in the hallway, offering a soft habitual “Morning, Gyu” as you balanced a basket of laundry against your hip. He nodded in return, returning the smile and his eyes followed you until you turned a corner.

His nose twitched as he picked up the smell of something… sweet. Like the first bloom of spring in the middle of winter.

It was far too faint for it to be a heat cycle, but it still lingered in the air.

Mingyu couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. You looked the same, moved the same. But there was something different about your aura.

Wonwoo only noticed the sweetness of your pheromones once Mingyu brought it up.

He’d pause a little longer when he passed you in the hallway, fingers twitching just a little when your scent clung to the couch after sitting on it for hours. His jaw would flex when you leaned over him to grab something from the kitchen shelf.

Yet, he didn’t say anything.

Neither did you.

You hear the door open just past midnight.

Muted voices. Heavy boots.

You catch a whiff of the faint, metallic tang of blood and turn your head towards the front door.

Wonwoo was the first to enter, as always. His expression is calm, unreadable. His coat hung open, dark with flecks of something you didn’t need to guess. Jihoon followed close behind, quieter than usual. His shirt was stained too, though he’d slug his jacket over his arm to conceal most of it.

He looked… calmer. The tiredness in his eyes were evident, but he didn’t have that frenzied look he always had. There was no smirk, no offhand remarks about which body part he sliced off, where he left it or if he convinced Wonwoo to break every bone of their rivals.

You stayed curled on the far end of the couch, a soft blanket on your lap with a book in hand. “Hi, boys. Long night?” You asked, tone casual but laced with something warmer

“Hey, Missus,” Jihoon responds, brief but polite. “Kinda.. But, we got it under control.”

He disappears down the hallway without another word, tugging off his bloodied gloves. Wonwoo follows a beat later, slinging his coat over one shoulder, a faint dark red smear on his jaw. “Have you had dinner, babydoll?” His voice was oddly warm.

You nodded your head, “Gyu made some aglio olio with steak. There should be some leftovers in the fridge for you.”

Wonwoo nods in response. He continues to stand there, looking at you like he was still figuring out he’s supposed to get used to coming home to this – to you.

You look back at him, and he notices the subtle way your nose wrinkled at the scent clinging to his nose, how your fingers twitched against the cover of the book you’re holding.

“I’ll go shower,” he mumbles, voice lowering. It almost sounded like an apology in disguise.

He walks up the stairs, halting momentarily to look back at you. That scent of yours still hangs in the air – sweet, distracting. Wonwoo stands there for a few more seconds before disappearing in the halls of the house, leaving silence and a rising heat in your chest.

He reappears moments later, now in a loose shirt and pyjama pants – looking more like a sleep-deprived graduate student than a man capable of unspeakable violence. He heads towards the kitchen and you follow him, feet quiet against the hardwood floor.

The house felt too big at that moment, the silence stretching between the walls like it was listening. The Alpha doesn’t say anything, just moving with the practiced ease of someone who’d done this a hundred times – opening the fridge and grabbing a bottle of chilled wine. It was like he belonged in the silence.

The overhead light pooled golden over him, catching in the soft fall of his hair, the sharp line of his jaw. The loose fabric of his shirt clung to the curve of his shoulder, just barely damp from the shower he just took, and you caught yourself staring – longer than you should have.

“You’re not gonna eat what Gyu made?” you asked, breaking the silence between you both before it could swallow you whole.

Wonwoo didn’t look back at first, popping the cork with one clean motion and pouring himself a glass with a kind of ease that spoke about how often he did this – like he was numbing or avoiding something.

“It’s cold now,” he answers, voice quiet but not dismissive. The wine filled his glass with a smooth swirl of deep red.

Then, without a word, he reached for another glass.

Not for wine.

He filled it with water from the chilled filter on the fridge, the sound soft and steady in the stillness of the kitchen. He sets it down on the counter near you and you blinked. There was no eye contact nor explanation, but the gesture settled somewhere deep in your chest.

You take a step closer, fingers brushing against the cool glass as you pick it up. “Thanks..” You take a sip and set it back down, leaning against the counter with your arms folded loosely. “But, just because the food is cold means it’s bad.”

“I’m not hungry.”

You watch him bring the glass to his lips, taking a slow sip before setting it down with a soft clink. His gaze lingered on the dark liquid, as though he was contemplating something.

“You didn’t even look at the plate,” your voice wasn’t accusatory, it was just gentle – just there.

Wonwoo lets out a breath, not exactly a sigh. “Didn’t need to.”

The silence that followed felt different – it felt tighter.

Then, without thinking, you moved a little closer. Just enough to feel the warmth radiating off him. Just enough for your voice to come out quieter when you asked, “Do you ever let yourself take a break, Nonu?”

Wonwoo’s jaw tensed. He doesn’t look at you when he answers, “I take a break when I sleep.”

“You barely sleep…”

You see a flicker in his eyes – you touched something.

He knew it.

You knew it.

But he didn’t run from it, at least not this time.

“Then I guess I don’t stop,” his reply was low, maybe a little bit more honest than he meant it to be.

You stood there for a beat, the glass cool in your hands – the silence wrapping around you both like a blanket that was too heavy to shake off. Your eyes dropped to the way his fingers held the wine glass, knuckles still faintly pale from tension. The condensation on your own glass trickles down your fingers, as though it was trying to ground you in the moment.

“Are you hurt anywhere, Nonu?” The question came out softer than you meant it to be – it sounded warm and it lingered in the air. You didn’t look at him directly, just watching the condensation slide down the side of his glass.

“No.”

It was clipped. Cold. Dismissive.

The kind of answer that was meant to end the conversation before it could even start. You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. Of course – you weren’t supposed to ask. You weren’t supposed to care – not like that. Not out loud.

He didn’t move at first. Just standing there, knuckles pale against the glass as his eyes locked on some distant point past the kitchen tiles. The silence stretched, heavy and humming, until he sniffs your sweetness in the air again. The sweet scent relaxed his posture, his shoulders dropping just a little and his grip around the glass loosened.

You watched him carefully, heart thudding in your chest and your voice caught before you even knew you were going to speak again.

“Can… Can I sleep with you tonight, Nonu?”

The words hang in the air, delicate and trembling.

It was too soft to take back. Too honest to ignore.

His fingers stilled around the glass, the sound of the fridge humming filled the silence that followed. You hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but it had. Your heart thudded in your chest, loud enough to drown out the quiet.

Wonwoo stares at you, his expression unreadable. His eyes seemed darker tonight, shadowed by something you couldn’t quite place a finger on. He looked tired – not just physically-bone-deep tired, but it was like the world had taken a little more from him than he was willing to admit. Whatever he and Jihoon did out there, it still clung to him like smoke.

“Trouble sleeping lately, babydoll?” His voice was surprisingly soft, low and quiet like he didn’t want to wake the others in the house.

You nodded, looking at the glass in your hand. “The air’s been… weird lately. A-And, it’s hard to sleep without you lately.” Your fingers tightened slightly around the glass, voice barely above a whisper – shaky and raw, “I-I don’t know why but it is… Especially when you’re gone.”

He was still staring, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look up – not when you knew his expression is all it takes to undo you.

Another beat of silence.

One second.

Two.

Then, you hear a quiet breath escape him. His glass clinks on the counter as he sets his drink down.

His voice was soft, “Come on, babydoll.”

His response caught you off guard. When you looked up, he was already turning away, walking toward his room – but his pace was slower than usual. As though he was waiting for you to catch up to him.

Your heart flutters, warmth flooding your chest even as your legs carry you forward. Wonwoo doesn’t say anything when you slipped into his room behind him, the bed dipping under your weight. The mattress sighs softly when you settle in beside him – it wasn’t the first time you shared a bed, but it was the first time you asked to.

You lay on your side, back facing him as you clutched the edge of the blanket like it was the only thing anchoring you. Wonwoo doesn’t move for a while, but you could hear his breathing – steady, though it was a little too measured to be natural. Awake. Thinking.

Maybe regretting this decision.

Your throat tightens, tears brimming in your eyes as you start to overthink.

But then, quietly, just barely there, you feel the blanket shift. The mattress dips again, and your back feels warmer as his body inches close. It doesn’t touch, though it was there.

There was a beat of silence, the tension in the air so thick that you could feel it pressing against your skin.

Then, slowly his arm slips around your waist. It was slow enough to almost break you. Your breath hitches, but you don’t stop him. You don’t move, letting yourself sink into him. His hand rests lightly on your stomach, not in a possessive manner; just there, offering you a grounding presence.

“I don’t sleep well because I worry of the danger you’re in by being my mate,” he murmurs, voice almost buried against the back of your neck. “Not when I come back from that kind of work. Not unless I know you’re safe.”

You close your eyes, something in your chest tightens at the vulnerability in his voice, a kind of raw honesty he rarely ever let slip.

“I am safe, Nonu,” you whispered, “With you.”

He doesn’t say anything, but the way his arms wrapped themselves around your waist, the way his forehead lightly brushes against your shoulder… It was enough.

You didn’t say another word. You didn’t need to.

Sleep came slowly that night, but this time – when it did, it came easier.

And for the first time in what felt like weeks, neither of you woke up alone.

Wonwoo stayed late at the office one night. The quiet hum of the city through the floor-to-ceiling windows did little to distract him from the glow of his screen or the dull ache that was beginning to form behind his eyes.

Numbers blurred, reports repeated themselves – he was going through the motions, more out of habit than necessity.

His phone buzzed. His mother.

“Mother?”

“Wonwoo,” her voice was soft, but there was a certain sharp edge to it. “You’re working late again?”

“I am,” he said flatly, not annoyed – just a little confused as to why his mother was calling him.

“Go home, Wonwoo. Be with your mate. She needs you.”

The words stung more than it should have.

“She has Mingyu and Chan looking after her–”

“She doesn’t need them, Wonwoo.” Her voice firmer, “She needs you. Her Alpha.”

“What’s this about, Mother?”

“It’s hard for me to explain this over the phone, Wonwoo. Just… Just go home and be with ___, okay?”

The line disconnects before he could respond. Staring at his phone, his thumb hovers over the redial button, demanding answers.

He never got the chance.

His phone rang again – this time, Mingyu’s name flashes across the screen.

It was never a good sign when his men called him.

He picks it up on the first ring. “What?”

“Boss– Wonwoo– fuck,” Mingyu’s voice was shaking, breathless. “Where are you? Missus is gone. The door was busted in, Chan’s unconscious near the stairs and– fuck– there’s blood.”

The words don’t register at first.

“She’s gone.”

Wonwoo froze in his seat, phone pressed to his ear – Mingyu and Seungcheol shouting on the other end. Something about getting Chan medical help for a GSW to his abdomen. The office lights hummed quietly and everything around him felt… wrong. Too still. Too normal.

It was so… eerie.

Blood. Mingyu said there was blood.

“How messy is the place? How’s Chan?”

He finally stands up from the desk, papers fluttering off his desk, forgotten. His grip tightens around the phone until his knuckles whitened.

“It’s bad, Boss. This place is trashed, fuck.” Shuffling can be heard before Mingyu speaks up again, “Chan said she fought. Oh fuck, one of the guy’s face is clawed off.”

“Gyu!” Seungcheol’s voice rings through the background, “We got a survivor! Tell Wonwoo to come back quickly!”

Mingyu didn’t need to relay the message, already hearing Wonwoo starting up his car.

The Alpha’s jaw clenched so tightly that it started to ache. A sound clawed its way up his throat, something raw and ragged. But, he swallowed it down. “How long ago?”

“About an hour. Maybe less. Cheol and I went out to get some groceries and when we got back, we found the place like this.”

“Chan and Vernon?”

“Chan’s wound up pretty bad, but he’ll be okay. Vernon’s helping Cheol prepare the bastard that survived.”

Wonwoo exhales through his nose. He feels sick. His body wants to move, to run, to destroy something – but his mind was spiraling, trapped in the memory of your last interaction. Cold, casual and detached. Like you were just a roommate. Like he hadn’t felt the way you cling to him during that heat. Like he hadn’t felt you snuggle up close to him when you both fell asleep in the same bed weeks after.

He should’ve listened to his mother.

He should’ve come home.

“Make sure that bastard lives until I get there,” he ordered Mingyu, voice now low and lethal. “Tell Jihoon to get his switchblade ready.”

He ended the call and drove through the streets. The engine roars to life like it felt his fury, the sound tearing through the night as he shot out of the compound. Tires screamed against the pavement, and the city blurred past him – buildings, lights, the occasional flash of red as he burned through the intersections without hesitation.

You were his.

And someone had taken you.

He was going to make sure he’d put an end to those bastards.

Your head pounded.

The room swayed as you blinked awake, wrists bound behind your back and there was a coppery tang in your mouth. A single overhead light buzzed above you, like a spotlight focusing on the main lead, and the rest of the space was swallowed in the shadows.

Concrete walls. Damp floor. Industrial. Underground? Maybe.

You shifted, testing the restraints. You could move, but it’d take some effort to break free from them. Then you hear it.

Footsteps.

You stilled, keeping your head low as several men stepped into the room. You didn’t recognise their scents. They weren’t of anyone familiar to you. They weren’t Wonwoo.

One of them circled you, stopping somewhere behind you. “She’s smaller than I thought…”

“Yeah, but she’s feisty,” came another, his voice sharper. “Don’t let her face or size fool you. Bitch fucking bit me when we took her in. Had to knock her out to make things easier.”

One knelt in front of you, just out of kicking distance but you held back. “You’re awake.”

“Such amazing observation skills,” you snorted, blinking the haze from your vision. “What gave it away? My eyes being open or the fact that I’m glaring back at you?”

It was a shame they didn’t laugh.

“If you’re smart and behave, maybe we’ll go easy on you.”

You scoff, “Please, if you were smart, you’d know you made a grave mistake the moment you busted my front door in.”

The figure leans in slightly, expecting fear but all you offered was a tilt your head. “So, what’s the plan? Some kind of ransom? Revenge?”

The masked man tilts his head, brows furrowed in confusion. “You’re not exactly acting like a scared little Omega.”

“Yeah, funny thing about that – I bark and bite. If you assholes think you can–”

Smack.

A sharp slap landed across your cheek as you were mid-sentence. The sting flared, but you didn’t flinch. Instead, you take a deep breath and straighten your posture, licking the copper from the corner of your mouth. “Oh, my bad…” your voice was low, “But you really should’ve known better than to think I’d be the damsel in distress type.”

There were at least three of them when they returned after leaving you alone for hours. They still wore those black face masks, as if that was supposed to scare you.

One carried a metal case and the other cracked his knuckles, another move that was meant to scare you. But what was scaring you the most was how terrible their intimidation tactics were. You sat upright the best you could, back straight against the wooden chair, chin lifted like you hadn’t been bound for hours. Like you weren’t aching in places you hadn’t known could ache.

They didn’t speak at first, only opening up the case. Silver tools gleamed under the low light.

You arched a brow. “Wow. Dontcha think that’s a little dramatic? What happened to just asking nicely?”

One stepped forward and backhanded you, hard. Your head snapped to the side, cheek screaming from the impact, but you refused to give them the satisfaction of crying out in pain.

“Tell us everything you know about the Jeon clan,” demanded the man that opened the metal case. “Security. Other bases. Codes, if you know any.”

You spit at his face.

They didn’t like that.

The first hit was to your stomach – brutal and deep, knocking the breath from your lungs. Then another to your ribs, then your face again. You lost count after five, maybe six.

Still, you didn’t scream.

“Damn, this bitch can take hits.”

Pain blurred the edges of your vision, but you clung to consciousness with everything you had. You thought of Wonwoo. Of how he looked at you when you didn’t think you were watching. Of how he subtly showed his affection thinking you wouldn’t notice.

You thought about how furious he’d be if he were to see you in the state you were in. Wonwoo’s mother had previously mentioned their stand on crimes against women, how if their own had even a strand of hair plucked, the perpetrators would face dire consequences.

When they paused, panting like they’d been doing real work, one leaned in and grabbed a fistful of your hair, tugging on it hard. “Last chance. Talk.”

The smile you gave had one of them flinching. Not because of how badly beaten up you looked, but because it bordered on the line of a psychotic smile.

“The Jeons don’t break, and neither do I. We fucking burn.”

These bastards sure as hell loved leaving you alone. Though you’d consider it to be a mistake on their end.

Your body was wrecked – ribs aching, lip split and bruises were already to form everywhere. But you were still breathing, still alive and that was enough.

You tilt your head back, blinking up at the ceiling through the haze of the pain. Blood dripped down your chin, but your hands were slick now – whether it was from blood or sweat, you couldn’t tell. You twist your wrists again, angling against the metal cuff just the way Wonwoo had shown you during one of his late-night, paranoid self-defense lessons. “If they bind you with steel, look for tension. Give it slack, then break it where it’s weakest. Everything has a weak point.”

It hurt like hell, but you kept going. The metal bites deeper into your skin before it snapped.

You stifle a gasp as the cuff breaks loose with a sharp clink. Your left wrist was bleeding freely now, but you didn’t waste a second. You made your way to the door, and to your surprise, it was unlocked. Either they didn’t you’d try, or they thought you couldn’t.

You slid out silently, stating low. You hear footsteps and muffled voices somewhere down the hall. Realising you needed a weapon, you decided to find their weapons storage. Your head spun, but you pressed forward and duck into the first door you saw.

Luck must’ve been on your side because it led you exactly where you wanted.

Guns were lined up on the tables, the overhead lighting making it seem more ominous than it already was. Your fingers shook as you picked up a semi-automatic handgun – sleek, back, loaded. Wonwoo’s voice echoed again, “Don’t ever hesitate to shoot. That gives them a room to attack. You pull the trigger the moment they come into view.”

You hear footsteps approaching and pressing your back up against the wall, breathing through your nose, waiting. You hold the gun close to your chest, and when the masked man steps inside, you don't hesitate.

Bang.

He dropped like a sack of potatoes, the sound of the shot echoes through the hallway.

There was no going back now.

Shouts echoed down the hall and you made a run for it. Turning a corner, you came face-to-face with two more men. They hadn’t expected you to be armed, by the time they noticed the gun in your hand and reached for theirs, you had already pulled the trigger.

You ran past their motionless bodies, trying to figure out where you were. The layout and interior – you knew you were in some kind of warehouse. Then you smell it – the night air, you were close to an exit.

You burst through a door, grunting in pain from the sheer force you had put on your shoulder to get the damn thing to open. Your knees almost gave out, the adrenaline making your hands shake.

You kept the gun raised, every shadow looked like another threat.

But you didn’t stop.

Not until you were safe. Not until you got back to Wonwoo.

But you weren’t able to get far.

The alley had opened into a dead-end loading yard and your heart dropped the second you saw the rusted fence, the padlocked gate.

A black van screeched to a halt behind you. You spun, gun raised – but hands grabbed you from both sides before you could even aim. You bit, clawed and kicked, but there were too many. They slammed you face first down onto the ground, a heavy knee to your back following. Your cheek scraped against the pavement and the gun slipped out of your hand.

“Hello, ___.”

You froze, your blood went cold.

Juyeon.

You turned your head enough to see him step into view. His suit was stained, fingers missing from both hands – four gone entirely with pink scars crusted where they’d once been. He flexed what was left, grimacing slightly as if the sight offended him.

Wonwoo had done that. You knew it because Jihoon had told you – how he encouraged your Alpha to cut off the fingers on his left hand so they were more… symmetrical.

“You fucking bastard,” you spat, “I’ll have them dismember you–”

His laugh cuts you off. “Still got some fight in you, I see,” he mused. “That’s what my men meant by you’re no ordinary Omega.” He crouches down, eyes glinting with a dangerous edge. “But you’re more useful to me if you shut the fuck up.”

You snarled, bucking under the weight holding you down. One of his men shoved your head back down as Juyeon took out a syringe from his suit. The liquid was thick, glowing a faint blue under the alley lights.

“You know what this is, little Omega?” he asked conversationally, “The labs call it Phase Nine. It’s new. Not on the market nor the black market.”

You went still.

“It’s a liquid heat inducer that’s designed to have your primal instincts override your rationale. It could even break bonded cycles.”

You thrashed, “Don’t you fucking touch me with that! I swear I’ll–”

“Hold her,” Juyeon ordered.

“No!” You kicked wildly, but the hands clamped down harder.

“I said hold her!”

You screamed when he jabbed the needle into your neck and depressed the plunger.

A cold, burning sensation spreads through your veins like ice catching on fire. Your limbs trembled violently and your lungs burned with every breath you take. You heard Juyeon chuckle as darkness begins to swallow your vision.

“Take a little nap,” he whispers, “And when you wake up, your body won’t resist anymore.”

You wake  to the sound of voices – low, mocking laughter. Your head throbbed, and your body felt… wrong. It felt as though weights were chained to your body and your head felt fuzzy. The heat inducers were still coursing through your veins, but you fought the haze, clinging to the remaining sharpness you had in the chaos of your mind.

You feel the fire burn from inside out, every nerve in your body screaming for release.

The door to the room opened and Juyeon stepped in, his fingers twitching where they were still missing. He wore that sharp, predatory grin on his face and how you wished you could slap it right off of his face. His presence was suffocating and the pheromones he was releasing stank up the room so bad you wanted to throw up.

You gritted your teeth and pushed yourself up from the cool, concrete floor. Your limbs felt like lead, but you couldn’t let him get close.

Only Wonwoo could touch you.

Not this disgusting bastard.

He notices the faint fight in your eyes and pauses, a cruel smile crept onto his face as he observes your struggle. “Shit, you are a tough one to break. Lucky for me I got more of those inducers to break you.”

He takes another step forward and your body tensed. “C’mere, Omega,” Juyeon coaxes, his voice so syrupy that it twists your stomach the wrong way. “Let me help you with that heat of yours, yeah? I’ve got something far better than the inducer you’re desperately fighting. Something real.”

You growl, throwing your body into him. Your actions startled him – he hadn’t expected you to fight, not with the drugs clouding your senses. But you didn’t need to be at your best. You needed to make him understand that you were more than just an Omega.

You got a punch in, a brutal hook to his jaw and knocking him back. Juyeon staggered, but he didn’t fall. His men moved, one lunging towards you; but you managed to catch his wrist, twisting it behind his back with a vicious snap, making him grunt in pain.

Another went for your throat, but you kicked up, shoes hitting him in the stomach that had him doubling over, gasping for air. It’s a shame you weren’t wearing your heels, would’ve left a mark on the bastard.

You moved again, a blur of motion and rage. You weren’t thinking nor did you care, you only had one goal – to survive.

Another man reached for your arm. You spun, elbowing him in the face then slamming your knee into his ribs. He staggers, gasping for breath. You were covered in sweat, heart pounding as your body rebels against the inducers.

One of Juyeon’s man was quick enough to grab you from behind, pinning your arms to your sides. “That’s enough,” Juyeon sneers, wiping the blood from his mouth. He grabs another syringe from the table, the liquid inside glowing a sickly blue. “You want to fucking fight? Fine. Let’s see how long you’ll last.”

You hissed, struggling against the man holding you, but the inducers were still tearing through you. The heat was unbearable, your vision swimming in and out of focus. You were starting to lose control.

“Fight all you want, sweetheart,” his voice was mocking as he approached with the needle. “But you’ll break eventually.”

Your hands were still unrestrained, and in that final moment of desperation, you grabbed an old pipe that lay on the ground. You swung it with all your might, hitting the nearest man across the skull. He collapsed with a sickening thud, and you barely had time to register the victory before Juyeon was on you again.

Your body was trembling, soaked in sweat as blood was smeared across your face and hands. The pipe clattered to the floor beside you, slick with someone else’s blood. Juyeon stood across from you, staggering as his face twists into something monstrous. The second that syringe slipped from his grasp during your scuffle, it shattered across the cement.

“You little bitch,” he spat, pulling out a switchblade from his pockets. “You think you’ve won?”

You didn’t answer, hands scrambling for the gun from one of his men on the floor. Your hands shook, but you raised the weapon anyway. Just like Wonwoo taught you.

Never hesitate when it comes to your life.

Juyeon takes a step forward and you pull the trigger.

Bang.

The scream that tore out of his throat was inhuman.

He dropped to his knees, clutching his crotch as the front of his pants soaked red. He writhed, gasping and cursing through clenched teeth. It wasn’t a clean shot, but you didn't want it to be.

Your hands were still trembling as you kept the gun trained on him. “Never… Never underestimate an Omega. Especially me.”

The door slammed open behind you. Boots thundered in, guns drawn and you hear voices yelling commands.

You didn’t turn. You didn’t have to.

You already know who it was.

“Clear the room!” Seungcheol’s voice echoed like thunder. “Get the Missus to safety and lock up any survivors!”

Vernon was quick to reach you, kneeling beside you as his hands tried to gently guide the gun down. “Hey, Missus…” he said quietly, “You’re okay now. We’ve got you.”

But you couldn’t bring yourself to lower the gun. It was as though you feared that if you did, Juyeon would get up.

Then you smelled him.

Wonwoo appears through the smoke of bodies, his eyes immediately locking on yours. The sight of you, his mate – bloodied, shaking and bruised – had him on his knees by your side in the blink of an eye. Sure, you were alive; but you were hurt.

He doesn’t say a word, only pulling you into his arms and holding you like you were the last thing in the world that mattered. You didn’t even realise how cold you were until Wonwoo wrapped his arms around you.

His warmth crashed into you like a wave, and what very little strength you had left was gone as your body collapsed into his. You could feel the way his body shuddered as he held you, his breath ragged against your hair, like he hadn’t been breathing until that moment. His hand held the back of your head, fingers tangling in your messy hair like if he let go – you’d disappear.

“I’ve got you, babydoll,” he whispered, voice cracking. “I’ve got you now.”

You dropped the gun.

And finally, your body let go.

Wonwoo carefully knocks on the door, a way to announce his presence before sliding it open. His eyes meet yours and his shoulders slump when you give him a small smile. “Hey…” was all you managed to say before his giant stature envelops you in a tight embrace. The Alpha nuzzles into the crook of your neck, a quiet whine leaving his lips as he takes in your scent. It’s grounding, calming – proof that you’re here, safe, and his.

You melt into his warm embrace, your hands instinctively finding their way to his broad back. His tense muscles slowly relax under your touch, his soft whines turning into soft hums of contentment.

“I… I was so scared,” Wonwoo admits, “Scared I couldn’t find you, couldn’t reach you in time… I –”

“Nonu,” you call out softly, one hand moving up to comb through his dark locks, “I’m here now, aren’t I?”

He nods and pulls away, the crease in his brow not fully gone. “Yeah, but… I can’t help to think of the worst case scenario of what could’ve happened had we gotten there any later… ___, the doctors said you were practically battered. There’s even still traces of that heat inducer in your blood.”

You shudder at the memory of having the liquid injected into you, Wonwoo tightening his hold on you. “They didn’t touch you did they?”

“Well, it depends on what you mean by touch..?” It was more of a question than a statement, “They didn’t put their dicks in me if that’s what you’re wondering. I was drugged up and a little woozy, but I managed to fight them off until you guys showed up.”

“So, they did touch you,” he sighs, pressing a gentle kiss to your template. “I’ll deal with those bastards once I head back.”

He cups your face in his large hands, his eyes scanning your face as if committing every detail to memory. “How are you feeling, babydoll? Feeling any better?”

You manage a faint smile at Wonwoo’s concern, your fingers brushing gently over the back of his hand where it cradles your cheek. “I’m feeling better,” you murmur, though the ache behind your ribs and the lingering exhaustion paints a different story. “Just… Just need to pee real quick…”

Wonwoo looks hesitant, but he nods, reluctantly removing his hand from your face.

You swing your legs over the side of the bed and push yourself up, determined to manage the short walk to the bathroom without assistance. But the moment you stand, a sudden jolt of pain rips through your lower abdomen. You let out a strangled gasp that makes Wonwoo instantly alert. Your knees give out before you can even call out to him.

You clutch your stomach as your body crumples to the cold tile floor.

“___!” Wonwoo is quick to drop to his knees beside you, arms wrapping around you before you hit the ground. “Babydoll, hey, what’s the matter?”

“It hurts,” you wheezed, eyes squeezed shut as another wave of pain twists through you. “Nonu, it… My stomach hurts.”

He feels his heart shatter at the sight of you writhing in pain, his arms tightening around your waist as he gently tries to ease you onto his lap. “Fuck, okay. I’m calling the nurse–”

“No, don’t go,” your breath was shallow, hand clutching the fabric of his shirt tightly. “Stay. Please.”

“Shit, shit… I’m here, babydoll. I’m not leaving.” Wonwoo’s voice is firm but trembling, his free hand fumbling for the call above him. He presses it repeatedly, urgency written all over his face. “Nurses! Doctors! We need help in here!”

He cradles you closer, rocking you slightly as if trying to soothe you through the pain. “You’re gonna be okay,” he murmurs over and over, lips brushing against your forehead. “I’ve got you, babydoll.”

Moments later, the door bursts open and nurses rush in. Wonwoo doesn’t let you go, not until they gently urge him aside to check your vitals and prepare to move you. Even then, his hand never leaves yours.

And when they wheel you away for tests, his gaze follows you – haunted and fierce – already blaming himself for letting you get off the bed in the first place.

“I’m terribly sorry, Mrs Jeon… It seems you had a miscarriage.”

The words hung in the air. The silence that followed felt suffocating, like a weight pressing down on your chest. Wonwoo’s and your mother wrapped their arms around you in an instant, offering you comfort; but everything felt so… distant. Their voices were muffled and the doctor’s face was blurred as the word ‘miscarriage’ echoed in your mind.

Your hands instinctively moved to your stomach, as though you were trying to hold onto something that was no longer within reach.

Meanwhile, Wonwoo’s tense body stood behind you as if he were a statue that’s freshly carved from stone. His emotions were frozen in place and his silence was louder than anything else in the room.

Suddenly, the pieces began to fit in place.

Why his mother kept nagging him to return home instead of doing overtime in the office.

Why his father kept urging him to look into a bigger home.

Why his mother and mother-in-law kept visiting you while he was away.

Hell, that even explained why Jihoon was more tame.

You were pregnant.

Pregnant with his child.

Your mom and Wonwoo’s mother tried to comfort you with soft reassurances murmured in your ear, but they couldn’t pierce through the thick glass that’s been erected around you. Your mom’s hand stroked your hair, a gesture that was meant to soothe you. But it only reminded you of the ache, of a loss so sudden that it felt as though a piece of you had been ripped away.

Wonwoo’s shaky voice brought you back to reality, “How… How could this have happened? W-When– How long has she been pregnant? She wasn’t displaying any symptoms or even showing!”

The doctor shifts, looking at the clipboard in his hand. “Mrs Jeon was around… seven weeks into the pregnancy. It’s not uncommon for the symptoms to be minimal, especially in the early stages. We suspect that what Mrs Jeon had experienced was a cryptic pregnancy, where the pregnancy goes undetected or unnoticed.”

You feel the Alpha shift his gaze from the doctor to you. “Seven weeks…” His voice was laced with confusion and guilt as he tries to recount every moment he’s spent with you, searching for signs he might have overlooked. He runs a hand down his face, resting it over his mouth as he mutters, “Fuck… No wonder your scent was sweeter…”

“As for what could’ve caused her miscarriage… We can only assume that it was due to the recent… uneventful incident that the Missus has experienced. The emotional, mental and physical distress coupled with the absence of an Alpha must’ve increased her stress levels to a point where it significantly affected her well-being.”

The doctor lowers his head in condolences and exits the room. Both yours and Wonwoo’s parents left soon after, deciding to give you both some privacy.

“Nonu…” you croaked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Your broken voice seemed to crack something within him and his rigid frame finally moved. Wonwoo sinks down to his knees in front of you, his hands hesitantly reaching for yours. He held them gently, and despite his warm touch, you could feel the tremble in them.

“Babydoll…” You finally forced yourself to look at him, and the sight added another weight to your already heavy heart. His jaw was clenched as his lips were parted slightly, his lips trembling slightly while his eyes glistened with unshed tears. He’s quick to cup your face when you sniffle out his name again, wiping away the tears that began to spill from your eyes.

“No, no, no…” he murmurs, wiping away your tears. “Don’t cry, babydoll… This isn’t your fault, yeah?”

His tender words only made the tears fall harder. The pain in your chest was unbearable, and the sound of his voice made it harder for you to hold yourself together. You shook your head, “N-No… Nonu, it was my fault. I-I should’ve been more alert or at least aware as to why I was –”

“Hey, hey…” He interrupts gently, “Don’t do this, babydoll, please. Don’t be so hard on yourself. You didn’t know, and even if you did, this is something out of your control.”

His thumb continues to stroke your cheeks, wiping away the endless tears that streamed down. “B-But… I-I should’ve.. hic… told you that I wasn’t feeling… hic… like myself.. M-Maybe i-if you’d known, you could’ve –”

Wonwoo presses a gentle kiss to your lips, leaning his forehead against yours once he pulls away. “Babydoll, please, don’t blame yourself… I… I should’ve been a better husband… I shouldn’t have just left you all alone again after your heat. I shouldn’t have kept my distance from you thinking it’d be a good decision… I should’ve been paying more attention to you, been home with you..”

His confession made your heart ache further. You reached up, your hands trembling as they covered his. “No, Nonu… Please, don’t say that… You've been the perfect husband and –”

“Babydoll, I wasn’t there to realise something was up. Our parents knew it before we did and –”

“We could… We could try again, right..?” Your voice was shaky, filled with uncertainty and carried a weight as though speaking it out loud could shatter what little hope you were clinging to. Wonwoo’s breath hitches, his eyes carrying the same raw, aching vulnerability you felt.

“Oh, babydoll…” he whispers, his lips trembling as he pecks your lips, “Of course we can. We can try as many times as we want, but that’s for when you’re ready – when we’re ready. Right now… Let’s… I… Let me make sure you’re okay.”

You nodded, hands moving from covering his to clutch the fabric of his shirt; as if holding onto him would stop the pieces of your heart from falling apart any further. “We’ll try again,” you echoed, voice trembling but filled with a quiet determination. “When we’re ready.”

Wonwoo hums, tilting his head to the side so he could capture your lips in a tender kiss. His lips moved against yours gently. It was soft, unhurried, and full of unspoken promises. When he pulls away, his forehead rests against yours once again, and his hands move to cradle your face, thumbs brushing softly against your cheeks.

Snow muffled the world outside the cabin, layering the landscape in a blanket of silence and softness. The fire crackled lowly, casting shadows on the wooden walls and painting flickers of gold across the thick blanket tangled around your legs.

It’s only been days since you left the hospital, body still aching quietly – your ribs would hurt just a little when you breathed in too deeply, you could even feel the stiffness in your limbs when you moved too fast. But here, tucked away in the mountains with no one but Wonwoo, the pressure to be okay all the time faded just like the hush of falling snow.

Wonwoo sits beside you on the edge of the bed, his presence warm and steady. He’d just come back from gathering more firewood, snow melting in his hair and a few flakes clinging stubbornly to his coat. You watched him shrug it off, mouth watering at the way his muscles ripple under the thick sweater as he crossed the room to tend to the fire.

God, he looks so good you just wanna pounce on him.

He returns to the bed, slipping under the covers with you like he belongs there – like he’d always been there. One of his arms snakes around your waist, drawing you against his side with practiced ease, careful to not press too hard against you.

He smells like warm cedar, a touch of pine, and that deep, grounding Alpha musk that seeps into your senses like a balm. He exhaled softly, rubbing slow circles into your hip with his thumb.

“Is it too cold?”

You shake your head, almost purring into him. “Not with you here.”

Wonwoo’s expression softens, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Good. I was worried it’d be… well, something you wouldn’t like. The snow, the isolation…”

“You picked it for a reason,” you whispered back, nuzzling into his chest. “It’s quiet up here. I like that.”

He held you closer, his heart beating steadily beneath your cheek. “I needed us somewhere no one could reach. Just for a little while.”

“Because I’m still healing?” Your voice was smaller than you meant for it to be.

“No.” His answer was immediate. “Because I need time with you. Alone. Not shared. Not interrupted. Just… us.”

You hum, closing your eyes and letting yourself be embraced by the most fearsome man of the city. In this moment, where the world was blanketed in snow, where nothing existed but the steady beat of Wonwoo’s heart and the feel of his body against yours, you were safe.

“Nonu?” 

Wonwoo looks down, still curling against his side beneath the blanket, hand pausing on your waist. “Yeah, babydoll?”

You hesitated, feeling your pulse thudding against your ribs. You feel the warmth of his body pressed against yours and the subtle way his scent thickened the longer you laid together in the quiet cabin. Maybe it was the isolation, or the cold outside – or maybe it’s just him.

The sense of safety he gives.

You swallowed, “What… What do you think about knotting me?”

Wonwoo stills, his hand splaying wider on your waist as a means to ground you in place, as though you’d float off if he didn’t. He leans down slowly, brushing his nose against your cheek. “Are you asking me if I thought about it?” his voice is now laced with some darker, thicker. “Or if I want to?”

Your face burned, and you tried to look away, but his hand caught your chin, gently coaxing you to meet his eyes. His gaze flickers down to your lips, then lower, and back. “You know I’ve thought about it, babydoll. Especially that time during your heat, but I had to stop because we were still getting used to each other.”

“What about now?”

His voice drops, “You’re still healing. Not now, okay?”

You let out a shaky breath, “I feel okay, Nonu. Better. And… I want it. I want you”

His hand tightened slightly at your hip, not enough to hurt, but just enough to let you feel the echo of what he was holding back.

“You sure, babydoll?” he asks quietly, “Because once I do that, there’s no going back to pretending I don’t need you. I’m going to be all over you, y’know?”

You reach for your Alpha, fingers curling into his sweater, voice barely steady. “Then let it.”

For a moment, Wonwoo just stares at you. And then the alpha in him stirred – quiet and hungry – as he shifts to hover above you, mouth grazing yours. “My feisty Omega can’t help but to be all soft for me now, hmm?” his voice was rough with barely checked restraint and it was enough to have you dripping. His breath ghosts over your lips, his nose brushing yours as his eyes darken. “Always biting back, but the second I touch you like this…”

His hand slides down your thigh, his touch possessive and curls it under your knee, spreading you open just a little more before pulling down the pyjama pants you were wearing.

“...you melt.”

Your breath catches, fingers curling into his sweater as heat coils low in your belly. Wonwoo wasn’t just teasing, he was marveling.

“Oh, babydoll,” he continues, enjoying the way your thighs tremble when his cold fingers trail up the skin of your bare thighs. “I’m going to bury myself in you and let my knot swell so deep that you’ll forget where I end and where you begin.”

“You’ll take good care of me, right, Alpha?”

Wonwoo groans softly, pressing his forehead to yours. “I’ll take good care of you, my sweet Omega.”

He kisses you slowly, soft at first – the deeper, hungrier, like the dam had cracked and he could finally taste what he’d been starving for. His palms slid down your sides, memorising every curve, every shiver. He doesn't rush, deciding to not strip you out of the sweater you were wearing to keep you warm.

Pulling away just enough, Wonwoo slides off his glasses and settles them aside on the nightstand. His eyes, dark and intense, were focused entirely on you. The familiar weight of his gaze sent a shiver up your spine. It was as though without the barrier of his glasses, he could see straight through you.

“You’re so beautiful, babydoll,” he murmured, breath brushing against your lips before he kissed you again, deeper, like he couldn’t stop himself. He groaned against your mouth, the soft drag of his lips against yours. His fingers traced the line of your jaw., down your neck and over the curves of your body, like he was committing the shape of your body to memory.

You let out a shaky whimper, hands trembling as you reached for him, tugging him closer. His entire being invades your senses, filling the space between your bodies as his kiss grew more intense, more desperate. You can’t help but respond to his hunger with your own, pulling him closer against your body.

You barely registered the way Wonwoo moved, only the warmth of his body that left yours for a moment. You hear the quiet click of the drawer opening beside the bed. Your voice wavered between surprise and something breathless, eyes widening just a little as your Alpha pulls out a slee black toy from it. It gleamed in the firelight, deceptively elegant. It wasn’t flashy, obviously neither you nor Wonwoo liked flashy. It was plain black, smooth, curved, and obviously meant for one purpose.

"You brought a vibrator on our honeymoon?"

Wonwoo shrugged, “More like Jihoon and Mingyu told me to. They’re… invasive to say the least.”

“How did they even know we’d be doing this?”

Wonwoo gives you a dry, amused look, like you’d just asked why the sun rises. “They’re nosy and overconfident. Honestly, since that night of your heat and when you’d ask to sleep with me, Mingyu said he can smell some kind of budding romance.”

You stared back, “That’s… That’s not a real thing, right?”

He shrugs again, “God knows. Jihoon just enables him. I have a feeling they packed it themselves when I wasn’t looking.”

A pause.

“You don’t check your luggages?”

“They probably hid it under my clothes.”

You snort, “I’m surprised it even made pass customs.”

Wonwoo chuckles, “Wouldn’t be the weirdest thing they’ve smuggled through airport security.”

You raise an eyebrow, “Do I even want to know?”

He tilts his head like he’s genuinely considering it. “Probably not.”

You stare at the vibrator in his hand, “So… What use is this to us and did you at least sanitise it?”

Wonwoo sits back on his heels, the firelight casting him in gold and shadow as he pushes the sleeves of his sweater up to his forearms. “Of course I sanitised it, babydoll. As for what use, I’m sure you have that figured out.”

You let him part your legs slowly, his eyes instantly dropping to your wet cunt. He caresses your thighs, coaxing them wider and when his scent changed, thickening with quiet arousal, your body responded like it knew what was coming.

“I’d consider my knot to be big,” he said, voice low and even. “It’s gonna take more than just my fingers to open you up.”

He doesn’t wait for a response. He eases two fingers into your cunt, tongue darting out to wet his lips when your breath gets stuck somewhere between your ribs and your throat. The drag of his knuckles felt cruel, like he wanted you to know exactly how he’d take you apart.

When he pushes in a third finger, you whimper. The stretch burns at first, before it fades into a more consuming ache. Your hips buck instinctively, his hand on your waist kept you pinned down like you were nothing more than a body to be used.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, shifting closer so his lips brushes against your jaw, “You keep clenching like that and I’m going to think you like being stretched out like this.”

His fingers curled again, and you choked on a cry.

“Atta girl,” he praised, smiling against your skin.

The air was heavy with the smell of sweat, arousal, and something more dangerous. You were trembling underneath him, not just from pleasure but from the oppressive weight of his presence, the way he looked at you like you’re something fragile yet can’t help but want to break you at the same time.

Every curl of Wonwoo’s fingers leaves you breathless, the coil in your lower belly growing tighter. “You’re dripping, babydoll,” he says flatly, drawing his hand back just enough to spread your wet folds with two of his fingers before plunging them back inside. “You’re making a mess and I barely touched you.”

With one final curl of his fingers, your back arches involuntarily as his fingertips press hard against your g-spot over and over. “C’mon, babydoll,” he murmurs, voice filled with arousal. “Cum for me.”

Your body obeys, a loud cry of his name tearing through your throat as your body seizes, pussy walls fluttering around his fingers. Your nails dig into his arm, thighs trembling around his wrist, and all you can do is ride it out as he coaxes every last tremble from your body. He doesn’t stop until you’re twitching, breathing hard, and sweat sticking to your skin.

Only then does he ease them out, slowly. He lifts his slick covered fingers to his lips, tongue flicking out to taste you as he keeps his eyes on your ruined expression with a dark glint.

“You taste sweeter than I thought,” he mumbles. Leaning down, he presses a gentle kiss on your lips before spreading your thighs again. “Gimme one more and I’ll knot you, yeah?”

He turns on the vibrator, the black toy humming to life. You watch with wide eyes as he brings the toy to your slick, pulsing entrance. The moment the curved tip presses inside you, your hips jerked. It zeroed in on that spongy spot deep inside you, making your vision blur and your thighs tremble.

One hand keeps your hips still while the other begins to move the toy inside you. Your breath stutters, back arching as the toy presses up and in, vibrating relentlessly against your gspot. Your legs twitch, thighs trembling as you try to squirm away from the intense pleasure, but Wonwoo won’t let you.

He keeps you in place, spread open while he grinds the toy mercilessly against your gspot, your pulsing walls clenching and unclenching around it rhythmically. Slick, wet sounds fill the room, echoing between your moans and the relentless hum of the vibrator. Your knuckles turned white as your hands clutch the sheets, the coil in your lower belly tightening up again.

“Nonu!”

“Gonna cum again?” he asks, voice low and taunting. He pushes the toy deeper and your vision goes black around the edges. A broken sob claws its way out of your throat as the pressure becomes unbearable. “C’mon, babydoll. Show me how greedy this pussy is. I want you soaked for my knot. Wanna feel you gush all over me.”

He twists the vibrator just right, thumb rubbing tight circles on your clit and your body convulses around the toy. A loud cry rips from your throat, sharp and raw as your pussy squirts, hips arching off the bed – drenching his wrists, the toy and the sheets beneath you.

Wonwoo groans, eyes dark as they lock on the way your body submits to him so beautifully. “Fuck, babydoll” he breathes, tossing the wet vibrator aside. “You’re ready to take me now. Gonna stretch you around my knot just how you’re meant to.”

He doesn’t even bother to wipe his hand, sliding them under your thighs and guiding them around his waist, lowering himself over you. You can feel the heat of his cock, flushed and heavy, grinding his length against your slick folds. “Gonna knot you so good, babydoll. Fill you so full that everyone who smells you knows you’re taken.”

You lick your lips at the weight of his knot that’s already swelling at the base. You lock your legs around his waist, heels digging into the curve of his back pulling him closer.

That was all the permission he needed.

Wonwoo lines himself up, holding back a growl as the blunt head of his cock bumps against your clit. His jaw clenches, holding back a guttural growl as he pushes in, inch by inch. Your eyes flutter shut as he stretches you, your slick walls sucking him in greedily.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he grits out, kissing your jaw. “So fucking wet. Pussy feels so warm that I could die happy right now.”

You whimper, back arching as he bottoms out, his knot pressing against your entrance. He rolls his hips experimentally, letting you feel every vein of his cock, the way his cock drags against your soaked, swollen walls.

His head dips to press his mouth against the curve of your jaw, your throat. “Taking me so well. Fuck, you feel so good.”

His hands tighten on your thighs, pushing them up so your knees are pressed against your chest, angling your hips just right so he can sink even deeper. His leaking cockhead bullies your sweet spot, making you cry out with each thrust.

“Feel how deep I am, babydoll?” He slides a hand between your bodies, pressing down on your lower belly. You moan at the pressure, nails scratching down his clothed back and Wonwoo starts to roughly thrust into your sloppy cunt. The drag of his cock against your walls sends aftershocks through your twitching body.

Wonwoo groans loudly, biting down on your shoulder – not hard enough to break the skin nor the sweater you wore, but enough to have your wet walls squeeze around him. “Shit, babydoll. Your pussy tightens up when I bite you. You like that, huh? Like it when I mark you up?”

You can’t answer. You’re shaking and gasping, all thoughts wiped out by the way his leaking cockhead grinds into your cervix with every thrust, body starting to bounce from the sheer force.

He presses down on your belly again, palm flat and firm. The pressure makes you clench reflexively, his eyes focus on the way your pretty cunt is stuffed snugly around his dick – entranced with the way your puffy lips coat his thick cock with your sweet cream.

“Nonu,” you whine out, feeling a jolt of electricity run up your spine when his abdomen rubs against your clit. “Please! Want your knot!”

Wonwoo growls, forcing his knot past your rim with one brutal thrust and stretching your pussy wide. You cry out in pleasure and pain, nails digging into the fabric of the sweater that he thinks you’d shred it into pieces. You feel it pop past your entrance and lock inside you, your vision going white.

He pulls out halfway only to slam back in, so addicted to how tight and wet you are around him. He loves how your gummy walls are taking his knot, how the lewd sounds of skin slapping and the wet squelching of your pussy fills the cabin. Wonwoo’s thumb finds your clit again, rubbing it hard and fast; grunting in approval when he feels your arousal drip out your stuffed cunt.

“N-Nonu, ‘M gonna cum!” you moan, head thrown back against the pillows as he fucks you harder into the mattress.

“I know, babydoll,” he murmurs, “Can feel your pussy milking my cock.”

Your walls flutter wildly against him. His knot throbs, snug and swollen inside you, ready to fill you up. “Cum for me, my Omega,” he groans into your neck, planting wet kisses as he chases his own climax. “Make a mess on my cock.”

Your orgasm slams into you, white, hot and all-consuming. Your entire body convulses underneath him, pussy creaming his dick. Wonwoo curses under his breath, hips jerking as your pulsing walls trigger his own release.

“Take it,” he pants, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he spills his cum deep inside. Ropes and ropes of hot cum flood your womb, and you mewl as your mind wanders back to the first time he filled you up.

Your Alpha stays buried inside you, knot locked tight as he releases your legs, hanging them over his forearms. One hand has a possessive grip on your hip while the other rubs your overstimulated clit in slow, teasing circles with just enough pressure to make you jolt.

He grinds his hips against you, knot fully lodged inside you. It’s said that Alphas cum more than they usually do when knotting their bonded mates, and sure enough, Wonwoo was indeed filling your pussy with load after load of his hot cum. Not that you were complaining though. You happily take every drop he gives you with a blissful smile.

The fire had burned down to glowing embers, casting the room in a dim amber. You’re still lying beneath Wonwoo, still stretched wide around his knot, both of you soaked in sweat and slick. You could still feel him twitching inside you, some of his cum slipping past the tight sleeve of your cunt around him. 

He releases his hold on your legs so he can bury his face into your neck, pressing soft kisses to the skin, teeth nipping over your scent gland. His voice was soft when he praised you, “My babydoll did such a good job at taking my knot.”

His hands slide under your sweater, caressing your body in gentle touches. You both stay like that until his knot deflates. But, your body hasn’t had enough yet. Your hips shifted without thinking, instinctive, needy.

Wonwoo chuckles when he feels it, pulling back to look at you – his eyes dilated and darker than before. “You still want another round, babydoll?”

You bit your lip, squirming just a little as your walls flutter helplessly around his girth. “Well, you’re still hard, Nonu~”

His grin is wolfish, but there’s a glint of fondness in his eyes that makes your heart flutter. He hums, rolling his hips just enough for you to feel the slow drag of his length still nestled inside you. “That’s ‘cause your greedy little pussy won’t let go of me.”

He leans down again, pressing a kiss just below your jaw, tongue darting out to taste the salt of your skin. “Keep squeezing me like that and I’ll knot you again, babydoll.”

You purr, bucking your hips up to meet his.

Wonwoo hisses, shifting his weight and hooking his forearms beneath your knees. In one swift motion he folds you in half, sinking his cock deeper into your pussy. He kisses you hard, tongue sliding against yours as he pounds your soaked cunt, thick cockhead repeatedly knocking against your cervix so hard it knocks the breath right out of your lungs too. You gasp into his mouth, body starting to tremble from the stimulation.

“Fuck,” he moans, “Pussy still so fucking tight. Look so fucking hot full of my cock.”

You cry out when you feel his knot start to swell inside you again. You can only moan and cry as he keeps hammering his cock into your sensitive hole. “Bet you’d take every load I give you, huh? Stuff you so full you’ll be dripping for days.”

Your head lolls back against the pillows, lips parting in a breathless moan. You feel everything – the stretch of his knot forcing you wider, locking you in place, the way his cock drags along your swollen walls.

“Nonu–” you whimpered, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes. “Full! Too full–”

“But you can’t help but to want me to fill you again,” he groans, gripping your hips with a bruising grip. He shifts the angle of his thrusts, feeling him in your guts as his thick cock pummels into you relentlessly. Wonwoo groans when he feels your pussy constrict around him again. “Ohh, fuck, babydoll. You gonna cum again? Gonna squirt all over my cock like the needy little Omega that you are?”

You can’t answer, the only sounds leaving your lips are your filthy moans. You wail every time he drives his dick in and out of you, grinding his thick knot right against that spongy spot inside you until you reach another climax.

Your whole body seizes as you cum hard, the air being punched out from your lungs. You gush around your Alpha, liquid splashing between your thighs – soaking his sweater and the sheets beneath you. Wonwoo is mesmerised by the sight of you squirting all over his cock, how your eyes screwed shut while your sweet cries filled the room.

“Fucking hell, babydoll,” he growls, throwing his head back as he feels his own climax approaching. “Squeezing my cock so fucking good.”

The milking compression of your walls around him, clenching and unclenching around his knot, like your body was begging for him to creampie you was what drove him right to the edge. With a loud roar of your name, his whole body goes tense. His fat cock twitches and throbs inside you, flooding your already wrecked cunt with spurts of his hot cum. His knot swells further, making sure to keep your soaked pussy filled to the brim.

You cry out, nails digging into his forearms as you feel droplets of his cum drip down your thighs. Wonwoo groans when he feels your walls flutter around his length, grinding his hips slowly to try and push his cum deeper.

When he releases your legs from the mating press he had you in, you let out a moan of relief. Your muscles are barely able to hold up after being held up in that position for so long. Your thighs fall limp on the bed, trembling, and slick with sweat and a mixture of your bodily fluids.

Wonwoo doesn’t move, his cock still buried inside you as he continues to release more ropes of thick cum, coating your walls. He places his palm flat against your belly again, right over the small swell of where his cum is filling you – where his knot is. Then he presses down on it.

You gasp, your entire body jerking.

Your cunt tightens reflexively, milking his cock for more of his cum, and he groans at the squeeze. You whimper, eyes glassy, and droplets of tears cling to your lashes.

Your body goes limp beneath him as Wonwoo hovers above you, back hunched as he tries to come down from the delicious high he had just experienced. He’s still sheathed inside, cock still pulsing, his cum sloshing inside your pussy that he can already feel it dripping down your thighs.

But, fuck, the way you were tightly holding onto him – his pretty Omega all wet and stretched and stuffed to the brim, it had his instincts just snarling beneath the surface.

“Shit, babydoll,” he murmurs, voice thick with pride and affection, “Knotted you twice and you’re still squeezing me like you want a third.”

You let out a shaky chuckle, looping your arms around his neck. “I might,” you whisper, giving him a dazed smile.

Wonwoo shakes his head, “You’re insatiable.”

When he leans down to pepper kisses to your throat, you whimper out his name. “Shh, I got you, babydoll. Let’s wait til my knot deflates before we do anything else.”

You hum, clinging to him as your legs weakly wrap themselves around his waist, body still trembling from pleasure and emotions.

And as the snow continues to fall outside, blanketing the surrounding world in white, you and Wonwoo stay tangled together in the heat of the cabin, arms holding each other like you’d never let each other go.

taglist @livelaughloveseventeen @mrsjohnnysuh @luvjichang @peachytokki @arusio @wooingmandy @scoupsonlycherry

[avocado-writing]

Hi Avo! Could you please consider writing a protective poly logan and wade x reader? Maybe something happens they weren’t there but when they show up deadpool is distracting/comforting the reader and logan is going ham on the enemy. ploy or separate is up to you!

Just a thought! Enjoying your work as always! ✨anon

deadpool: look how I spell it “grey” because the writer is english! Crazy logan: what?

It’s Logan who sweeps you up. You know it is, because he’s a solid wall of a man under your hands where you’ve buried into him. His chest is warm and reassuring; you focus on it, trying to ground yourself even though you can taste your pulse thrumming in terror.

“It’s okay, baby. We’ve got you,” he mutters under his breath, a growl in your ear, a tender little secret of his softness shared between the two of you. 

It had all been so sudden. You’d been taking the shortcut home after going shopping for tonight’s dinner when you’d felt someone grab you. Tomatoes had rolled across the ground, cans denting loudly as they fell, and you’d been dragged towards the back of the van as your captors loudly discussed if they had the right person. They said something about you fucking two mutants, and the bile with which they had spat it chilled you. 

You’d been certain you were going to die. Cold fear flooded you, your eyes squeezed closed tight. Please, don’t let Logan and Wade find my body. They won’t be able to take it. If these guys are gonna kill me, let me just disappear. 

Then again, that was before the claws came through the metal of the roof and all hell had broken loose. Guns went off and you screamed, unsure if they were Wade’s or not - but strong arms had picked you up and hauled you to safety. 

You feel yourself being passed to someone else, Logan pushing you into Wade’s grip and giving him strict instructions to look after you, then he’s gone. The sounds of violence continue and, without thinking, you turn to look. 

“Oh, no, honey, you don't need to see that. That’s just… plain disgusting,” says Wade, grimacing, “even looking at this mess is better than seeing what Peanut’s doing to those guys.”

Upon the word ‘mess’, he gestures to himself. Despite your heart hammering against your ribs, you reach up to press your hand against his cheek. 

“Don’t talk about yourself like that, Wade. You came to save me.”

A flit of confusion crosses his face, knocking his usual bravado. 

“You thought we’d just let them bundle you into their ‘not allowed within five hundred feet of schools’ van and disappear? Give us some credit. We’re not white knights, but we’re at least, y’know, morally grey knights.”

He says this to make you laugh, and it works. You’re distracted as the sounds of screams literally die out and Logan stalks back over. You see him removing his jacket to hide the blood on it from you. It’s still spread across his knuckles, though, a masterpiece of the revenge he just enacted. 

“Don’t worry about them. They won’t be bothering you again,” he says with an air of finality. His hand raises to cup your face, so gentle with you, such a contrast to moments before. His voice is laced with a tenderness when he asks, “you doing okay?”

You nod. Yeah. With them here, you are doing okay. 

“Thanks,” you manage, shakily, adrenaline leaving your body to give way to fat, rolling tears of relief. Not missing a beat, Wade looks Logan up and down. 

“Hey, there’s still some viscera on your shirt, Peanut. Maybe you should take that off, too?”

“Watch it, bub,” he growls, but you can tell his heart isn’t really in it. They’re both just thankful that you’re safe. 

Your heroes, both of them. Morally grey or otherwise.

[choerrypuffs]

AITA for setting my cheating ex's car on fire? (and then falling for his cousin)

pairing: firefighter!haechan x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 8.6k

synopsis: revenge is best served cold―or on fire. literally.

author’s note: luvpuffcore is finally back!! ilysm cat and moon and thank you for another amazing year of friendship <333 i truly am the #1 most successful fan of all time 🤩 also special shoutout to cat for letting me use some of her creepy dms and moon for sharing her league knowledge yall are god's strongest soldiers fr !! happy new year, my loves ✨🎆💞

warning(s): mentions/threats of violence, sexual jokes, y/n commits arson but in a girly pop way (pls don't try this at home), character assassination of mark

playlist: get him back! by olivia rodrigo ― is it new years yet? sabrina carpenter ― drinks or coffee by rosé ― risk by gracie abrams ― mastermind by taylor swift

additional: check out a nonsense christmas: reddit edition collab!

r/AmITheAsshole

u/justgirlythings-arson119 • 3d

AITA for setting my cheating ex’s car on fire? (and then falling for his cousin)

I (24F) caught my boyfriend cheating on me with a discord kitten he met on League of Legends two days before our anniversary. I proceeded to have the biggest crash out ever known to man, bought a gallon of gasoline, went to his house in the middle of the night, and lit his car on fire. I had completely forgotten his cousin was a firefighter in the area, and he showed up at the scene, which hindered my masterful plan a little bit. Luckily, my ex didn’t press any charges though because no way in hell he’s going to admit he has a discord kitten in a court of law. Anyways, the next day, my ex groveled and begged me to go to his family’s Christmas party with him so that he could save face in front of his mommy. Long story short―let’s just say it didn’t go well. His cousin ended up driving me home, and I think maybe I’ve fallen for him? 

⥣ 9.8k ⥥ 1,439 Comments

mcballs-im-lovin-it0323 • 2d YTA for not crashing out even harder bc i woulda slept with his entire bloodline if he played in my face like that 🙂‍↕️

➥ Reply ⥣ 2.8k ⥥

picklepounder1010 • 1d would’ve had him calling me mama, papa, auntie, uncle, grandma, grandpa etc fr 😩 ➥ ⥣ 943 ⥥

god-of-donuts0423 • 1d YTA for dating a lol player

➥ Reply ⥣ 1.1k ⥥

goonknight1027 • 5h no way this post is about that twink lol streamer ➥ ⥣ 629 ⥥

part one | oh, i wanna key his car…or light it ablaze?

onyourmark 12/1/2024 3:03 PM heyyy u play lol too 😂

onyourmark 12/1/2024 3:05 PM im a yasuo main 😂

onyourmark 12/1/2024 3:10 PMwhat kinda asian are u

onyourmark 12/1/2024 3:10 PMwhatchu look like

onyourmark 12/1/2024 3:10 PMsorry was that too much 😂😂😂

Your best friend, Rosie, has to put your phone down and take a few deep breaths. “I think I’m going to throw up.”

“Keep going. You haven’t even seen the worst of it,” you respond through a mouthful of strawberry ice cream, completely deadpan. 

onyourmark 12/7/2024 6:21 AM ahh 😂😂

onyourmark 12/7/2024 6:22 PM *kisses you*

onyourmark 12/12/2024 5:39 PM can i tell U something weird :3 😂

onyourmark 12/12/2024 5:40 PM[Audio Message]

onyourmark 12/12/2024 5:39 PMi wrote this rap about my feelings for y baby girl

onyourmark 12/12/2024 5:39 PMbecause uve been such a good gril for me

onyourmark 12/12/2024 5:57 PM holy fck holy dcking fck that body of urs is absurd

Rosie covers her mouth with her hand, closing her eyes in a grimace. “No way he copied Adam Levine unironically.” 

“Keep going.”

onyourmark Yesterday at 1:20 AMwhen can i see u

onyourmark Yesterday at 1:20 AM ill be free after christmas

onyourmark Yesterday at 1:20 AM after annyign fam stuff 😂😂😂

Every message Rosie reads feels like another sucker punch in your gut and your ego, but you just dig your spoon into the tub of ice cream with even more force and let her keep going. Every time you blink, you feel dried up mascara flaking off your eyelashes and getting stuck in the dried tears and snot on your cheeks. 

“‘Annoying fam stuff?’ Is he talking about your anniversary?” Rosie demands.

Yes, your anniversary with your now ex-boyfriend, Mark Lee, is on Christmas. You used to think it was romantic. What a goddamn idiot you were. 

“At least he called me family,” you reply wryly, a hysterical laugh rattling in your chest like a wet cough. 

Rosie shakes her head and hands your phone back to you. “I can’t read any more of this. I’m going to be sick. I thought Discord mods and Discord kittens were just memes. I can’t believe people like him actually exist.” 

You just shrug.

“Where the hell is he now?” She crosses her arms. 

“Probably at his parents’ house. They’re on a ski trip, and they won’t be back until tomorrow,” you sigh, getting a headache thinking about how you were going to explain this to Mark’s parents. 

“Good. Change the locks on your door before he tries to come crawling back. He’s done mooching off you,” Rosie huffs. 

“You were right,” you state matter-of-factly, “That he was just a jobless bum loser who’s a momma’s boy.” 

She looks guilty, leaning over and giving you a hug. “I’m sorry, Y/N.” 

You think about the time you first met Mark, when the two of you were just starry-eyed freshmen in college together. He was so awkward and shy that it took almost an entire semester for him to finally look you in the eye. He followed you around like a sad puppy and would get flustered at any prolonged amount of attention you gave him. After about three years of him being hopelessly in love with you and unable to work up the courage to ask you out, you finally decided to give him a chance in your final year of college. It was a white Christmas, and you remember his trembling hands holding your face, freezing cold fingertips brushing your cheeks, and how red his nose was when he leaned in to kiss you. He looked at you as if you were a goddess that was put on this Earth purely for him to worship. 

Maybe that’s why you moved in together with him when the two of you graduated, even when he was unemployed and you supported him financially. Maybe that’s why you smiled and nodded when he told you he wanted to try being a Twitch streamer. Maybe that’s why you gifted him his first microphone for his setup, or baked him a cake when he finally got his first viewer (even though it was actually a secret account that you made in order to boost his confidence). Maybe that’s why you never complained when he started skipping out on dates (sometimes even your birthday) in favor of growing his audience, or when he bought you extravagant gifts like jewelry or designer clothes without any clue of your preference or size. Maybe that’s why you chose to ignore the churning feeling in the pit of your stomach when you noticed his eyes starting to drift towards anything but you.

Maybe you were always the one who worshipped him. 

It’s almost comical how easily almost a decade of your life has gone down the drain―and all it took was a couple of laughing emojis. In the end, the one who loves more is always the one who loses the most. 

You gave up your best years to Mark Lee, and yet you seemed to have run out of tears to cry for this man. 

Instead, all you have left now is pure, unbridled rage boiling inside of you. It’s the kind of anger that needs to simmer first―the kind that manifests first as a calm indifference before it finally bubbles over into a complete meltdown. But you’ll be damned before you set fire to your mental health and personal belongings that you worked tooth and nail for over a man who ruined your life. 

So, you’ve decided to set fire to something else. 

“Rosie,” you say softly, your voice chillingly serene. “I’m going to set his car on fire.” 

Rosie laughs. “Want me to be your getaway driver?” 

“No, I wouldn’t want to implicate you,” you respond smoothly. “Besides, I want him to know that I’m the one who did it.” 

She looks at you for a moment, trying to decide if you’re joking or not. “Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“Yes. I don’t have the energy to care about him anymore,” you answer―only a half lie. “You should go now. I know you have a late shift tonight.” 

Rosie gives you another tight squeeze. “Call me if you need anything, okay? I’m off this weekend, so we should go get drunk off our asses.” 

After she leaves, you slowly get up and make your way to the bathroom. You wash your face in the sink, scrubbing on the gunk off, and apply a fresh layer of makeup. If you’re going to do this, you’re going to make sure you look hot as hell (pun intended). Once you’re done, you make your way to the nearest gas station and purchase a gallon of gasoline before promptly driving to Mark’s parent’s house. 

By the time you get there, it’s already close to midnight, and not even the darkness can shroud Mark’s new Tesla Cybertruck. You remember when he bought it because you had to pay for half of his rent for the month because he was saving up for it―the smug grin on his face, as he announced it to his Twitch chat. You’re embarrassed at how happy you were for him, and you didn’t even have the heart to tell him how hideous you found it. The truck’s mirrored exterior reflects the moon in the starless night sky, and the full moon almost looks like a shiny, pretty bullseye calling out for you to destroy it. 

Without hesitation, you get out of your car and immediately start dumping gasoline all over and around the car. The scent of gasoline normally makes you nauseous, but the scent of revenge smells even sweeter. Before you take out your lighter, you pick up a large piece of broken concrete from his driveway. With all of the strength you can muster, you hurl the concrete into the driver side window of the truck and watch your reflection shatter along with the glass. 

The car alarm starts blaring, and you wait for the light in Mark’s room to blink on. You see his silhouette as he opens his blinds and peers out, just to lock eyes with you. He gawks at you like he’s just seen a ghost, and it doesn’t take long for him to make his way down to you. As he stumbles down the driveway, you take out your lighter and flick it on, letting it slowly slip from your fingertips. Your heart swells with a hysterical sense of glee as his eyes widen, the orange flames reflecting in his teary eyes. His Cybertruck is set ablaze with a Hollywood-esque level of perfection, and the fire gives your face a golden glow as if you were the starring actress. 

“Y/N! Are you fucking crazy?” Mark hollers over the crackle of the flames, voice breaking. 

“Oh, you bet I fucking am,” you laugh. 

“I’m gonna sue you―you bitch! Have you thrown in jail!” he screams, fishing his phone out of his pocket and punching in 911 on the keypad. “I’m calling the cops right now!” 

“Do it, you spineless piece of shit! I’m going to make sure everyone in this damn neighborhood and on the internet knows what a lying, cheating, soul-sucking little leech you are!” you yell back at him. “I’m going to ruin your fucking career first and then happily walk my ass down to the police station.”

That makes Mark stop in his tracks, his thumb hovering over the dial button. He can’t control the fear on his face. “No one is gonna believe you.” 

“Aw, you sure no one will believe me when I show everyone the screenshots of your DMs with uwukittenbb69?” you taunt. 

“I’ll say they’re fake!” he nearly screeches. 

“Let’s fucking go then! My word against yours. We’ll see who they believe,” you challenge. 

Mark falters and takes a small step forward. “W-Wait…” 

Unfortunately for him, he’s interrupted by the squealing sirens of a firetruck pulling up to the street. You and Mark exchange glances, and you silently dare him to report you, before both of you turn towards the firefighters exiting the truck. 

“Mark…and Y/N?” 

Your eyes widen at the sound of the approaching firefighter’s voice. You watch in horror as the firefighter removes his helmet, and you get a clearer look at his face. Tufts of wavy caramel-colored hair sticking out, a youthful and angelic face that doesn’t suit his occupation, and heart-shaped lips turned downwards in concern―it’s Mark’s cousin, Donghyuck. You’ve met him a decent amount of times at family gatherings, and he sometimes drops by you and Mark’s apartment to deliver homemade food from his mom. Donghyuck has always been kind to you, and you didn’t want him to see you like this.

Donghyuck’s confusion is short-lived before his attention falls back to the fire and how close you are to it. He quickly grabs your arm and pulls you away from the burning truck. 

“Be careful. Are you hurt?” he asks carefully, eyes scanning your face with precision. “And why aren’t you wearing a jacket? It’s freezing out here.” 

You open your mouth to try and fumble out an answer, but you flinch at the sound of Donghyuck’s colleagues blasting Mark’s car with water from the firetruck’s power hose. All that’s left of the Cybertruck is a deformed and blackened pile of scrap metal with a plume of smoke rising from it. You can’t help the sense of satisfaction you feel. 

“Don’t breathe in the smoke. It’s not good for you,” Donghyuck urges, gently sticking an arm in front of you and gesturing for you to step back even further. “Come with me. There’s blankets in the back of the truck.”

“I’m fine,” you finally manage to say, shaking your head. “I’m not cold.” 

It’s true; the fire you set has been more than enough to make your insides feel all warm and fuzzy. He doesn’t look like he believes you but doesn’t try to push any further. 

“Okay, so what the hell happened here? We got a call from the neighbors saying there was a blazing ball on fire in Mark’s driveway and that the two of you were in a screaming match.” 

“Ask Mark,” is all you say. 

Donghyuck raises an eyebrow. 

“It was an accident.”

As if on cue, Mark suddenly materializes next to you and Donghyuck―a restless expression on his face. He probably thought you were telling Donghyuck what he did to you and rushed over. 

“What?” Donghyuck’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. “You’re saying that was an accident?”

“Yeah. I was just…messing around. Don’t worry about it. It was an accident,” Mark says through gritted teeth, sounding completely defeated. 

The corners of your mouth twitch when you chime in, “A senseless accident.” 

Donghyuck is completely speechless as he glances between the two of you. However, you look past him and watch the fireworks exploding in the dark sky. Pulling out your phone, you see that it’s midnight, meaning it’s officially the 25th of December. Glancing over at Mark, you see him trembling in the cold with a sniffly red nose and bloodshot eyes. He’s staring straight at the ground, fists clenched. 

You smile. 

part two | wanna push him in the fireplace and watch him burn!

When you finally get home that night, you draw yourself a steaming hot bubble bath and even use the fancy bath bomb that Rosie bought you. After you get dressed, you make a charcuterie board and pour yourself a glass of wine as well before falling asleep to a Hallmark movie playing on your television. It’s probably the best sleep you’ve gotten over the past month. 

You wake up in the morning feeling refreshed, a certain five-foot-nine burden lifted from your shoulders, and text all of your friends and family your holiday greetings. Rosie invited you out to her family gathering because she didn’t want you to be alone on Christmas, but you declined. You decided to stay home and get some cleaning done. Of course, by cleaning, you mean boxing up all of Mark’s stuff and donating it to Goodwill. You initially wanted to burn everything, but you’ve committed enough arson already. 

Just as you’re getting ready to make a hearty breakfast in preparation for the mass Mark exodus, you hear the door to your apartment being opened, and your blood runs cold when you realize you haven’t changed the lock. Then your cold blood begins to boil at the audacity that Mark still must have in his pathetic little body to even dream of stepping foot in your home. 

Gripping your frying pan tightly, you march out of the kitchen to greet him. Mark at least has the sense to shrivel back when he sees you approach him. To your delight, he looks absolutely terrible. It’s obvious he didn’t get any sleep nor did he feel the need to change out of his pajamas. 

“I know you’re mad,” he says quickly, holding his hands out as if ready to block a punch.

“If you actually knew that, you wouldn’t have stepped foot in my apartment,” you say nonchalantly. “You have ten seconds to give my key back to me and get the hell out before you have to call the cops again.”

“Chill, chill,” he mutters, “I’m just here for my stuff―”

“Don’t tell me to chill. I’ve always hated it when you tell me that. It makes you sound like a patronizing douchebag, which you are, of course,” you snap. “You’re insane if you think I’m going to let you just waltz in here and casually get your stuff. Most of which I paid for, by the way.”

“Y/N, come on,” he sighs. “at least let me get my PC setup.”

That makes you burst out laughing. “Holy shit. You really have the gall to ask me for your PC setup? Are you on actual crack? Get the fuck out!”

“Okay, okay, okay. I’m sorry, okay? Just one more thing―”

“Don’t make me swear to Jesus on his birthday―” 

“My mom wants you to come to the Christmas party this afternoon,” he blurts out, squeezing his eyes shut. “I…haven’t told her yet. I wanted us to tell her, um, together, after the party.”

He doesn’t need to say it for you to understand what he’s implying. He wants to make it seem like the breakup was mutual to save his reputation and because he knows his mom will lose her mind. He’s pretended to be her perfect little boy his entire life, a momma’s boy to the very core, so he can’t ever let her know what a bottomfeeder he is. 

“Is this some sort of social experiment to see how far you can push my limits before I finally snap? Again?” you ask incredulously. 

“Please, Y/N. I’ll do anything. I won’t ask for my stuff anymore. I won’t tell anyone about the car thing. I promise you that you won’t ever see me again if you do me this favor,” Mark sputters.

You hate that you still hesitate, despite how much you’re disgusted by him. It makes you feel like you haven’t completely axed the part of you that was in love with him, and that sickens you. However, Mrs. Lee has always been like a second mother to you, and it doesn’t feel right to just cut her off without a proper goodbye just because her son is a cretin. You suppose this could be good closure for such an ill-fated relationship. 

“You swear on your life that you’ll leave me alone forever after this?” you ask, crossing your arms.

Mark nods profusely.

“Fine. I’m only staying for an hour, and I don’t care if the party isn’t over yet. We’re going to tell her within that period or else,” you state. 

“Thank you. Thank you so much, Y/N.” Mark opens his arms to hug you, and it takes every fiber in your being not to whack him across the head with your frying pan. 

“Do not touch me,” you warn, “Now get out.” 

To his credit, he promptly hightails it out of your apartment (perhaps he finally noticed the murderous glint in your eye). You almost immediately regret agreeing, but you tell yourself that today is the last day that you’ll ever have to deal with the likes of Mark Lee again. Putting a hold on cleaning, you get ready for the party instead, donning a cute holiday fit that you had prepared especially for today since it was supposed to be your anniversary. Now, it makes for a great revenge dress. 

Mark had texted you to let you know to bring a gift since there would be a white elephant gift exchange, and half of you wants to call him and scream at him for not letting you know sooner and the other half is screaming at yourself for forgetting to block him. Not having enough time to go out and buy a gift, you decide to wrap up the scarf that you knitted for Mark. You stayed up all night after you got off work to make it for him, and it looks a bit wonky, but you thought he would appreciate it. You feel bad for whoever receives it, but there has to be a few duds in the mix or it’s not a true white elephant experience. Maybe they can use the scarf to wipe up their dog’s piss or something.

When you drive back to Mark’s parents’ house, it’s an ironic clash of atmospheres. The place is decked out with Christmas decorations, an amalgamation of rainbow lights, inflatable snowmen, and wreaths on every door and window. Yet, you can also see remnants of the dark burn marks in their driveway. Mark must have managed to call a tow to take his Cybertruck away just in the nick of time. You do wonder how he managed to explain the burn marks, though. 

Taking in a deep breath, you hype yourself up in your car visor mirror before stepping out and walking to the front door. Before you can even knock, Mrs. Lee opens the door and envelops you in a bear hug. She smells like sugar cookies, and it occurs to you how much you’ll miss her. 

“Oh, sweetie! I’m so glad you’re here,” she coos, cupping your face. She then ushers you into the living room, linking her arm through yours. “I was so worried because I thought the two of you got into a fight while we were on our trip.”

You just smile uncomfortably. “O-Oh.” 

“A mother’s intuition is always right, you know,” she says, winking, “Plus, I knew something was off when Mark told us he’d be staying at our place for a couple nights. Poor boy was a mess, you know. He somehow managed to total his car in the driveway! Can you believe it? He really needs you around to whip him into shape!” 

You hope she can’t see you holding in a laugh. As you’re walking, you scan the room for Mark, but he’s nowhere to be seen. It doesn’t surprise you one bit that you’re being treated as fodder so he can hide in his room. 

“Anyways, say hi to everyone!” She leads you directly into a circle of Mark’s aunt and uncles. You give them all an awkward hello and try to slink away while they all converse, but one of Mark’s aunts turns towards you. 

“So, how long have you and Mark been together, honey?” she asks. 

“Um, about four years―”

“Oh, but they’ve known each other for much longer than that. Seven years! Mark had the biggest crush on her, you know,” Mrs. Lee interjects. 

“My goodness, does that mean we’ll be hearing wedding bells soon?” Mark’s aunt teases. The rest of the circle oohs and ahhs, and you want to strangle yourself with a garland. 

“I mean, what is he waiting for anyway? He’s making loads of money on the Internet now, isn’t he?” she continues. 

“Exactly. I want grandchildren, you know,” Mrs. Lee huffs. 

Unable to bite back your words anymore, you clear your throat loudly. “I have something I need to―” 

“Oh, Y/N! I’ve been looking for you,” another voice chimes in. 

All of you turn around, and a gasp nearly escapes you when you see Donghyuck standing in front of you. He’s in a white cable knit sweater, and his wavy hair looks so fluffy that you almost want to reach out and touch it. His cheeks are a bit flushed, probably because he’s in such thick clothing (or Mrs. Lee’s famous spiked eggnog). Without his uniform on, he looks much softer, dreamier. 

“You…have?” you ask, bewildered. 

“Yup! Come on, I gotta ask you something,” he answers cheerfully, gesturing for you to follow him. 

You’re a bit wary of what he’s scheming, but you’d rather risk it than have to deal with any more marriage talk, so you gladly let him whisk you away from the crowd. Donghyuck leads you to a less crowded part of the room, swiping a piece of chocolate cake when he walks past the dessert table, and tucks himself into a corner that’s concealed by a giant Christmas tree. 

“Here we go. I introduce to you my super covert corner that I stand in when I want to avoid nosy relatives,” he says in a sing-song voice before offering you the cake in his hand. “Would you like some German chocolate cake made by yours truly? It’s pretty damn average, if I do say so myself.” 

You pause, only just now realizing that Donghyuck helped you out. You suppose you have nothing to lose, so you accept the cake. “Oh. Thank you. So, you didn’t have anything you wanted to ask me?” 

“Well, actually, I do,” he hums, giving you a sheepish grin. “You set Mark’s car on fire last night, didn’t you?”

Part of you already expected this question coming, so you manage to keep your expression neutral. “Are you accusing me?” 

“Why, I wouldn’t dare. Besides, I don’t need to. I know you did,” he says casually, shrugging.

Even though you should feel panicked, you don’t. In fact, Donghyuck almost seems to find it amusing. 

“Do you have proof?”

“Mark told me,” he states sweetly.

You sigh loudly, immediately giving up the ruse. “I knew that damn lowlife would yap.” 

“So, what did he do?” 

“Of course, he told you what I did but didn’t tell you what he did,” you snort. 

“What, he cheat or something?” 

“Worse.” 

You pull out your phone and show Donghyuck Mark’s Discord DMs and watch his expression morph into disgust as you indulge in the cake he gave you. The dessert is perfectly average as he said, but there’s something charming about it. In that way, the cake is quite similar to its maker. 

“As a government employee and resident fighter of fires, nothing justifies arson,” he states after a brief moment to collect his thoughts, “but this comes pretty damn close.” 

You give him a smug I-told-you-so look.

“But seriously, what you did was really dangerous, Y/N. You could have injured yourself badly. That jackass is not worth getting third-degree burns over. There are better ways to get revenge, you know,” he lectures.

“Like what?” You raise an eyebrow.

“I don’t know, like TP or egg his car or something. Slash his tires?” 

“God, are you from a 90s movie or something? That’s lame as hell,” you snort, taking another bite of cake.

“Dig your key into the side of his pretty little souped up four-wheel drive? Carve your name into his leather seats? Take a Louisville slugger to both headlights? Slash a hole in all four tires?” He wriggles his eyebrows. 

“Are you quoting Before He Cheats by Carrie Underwood?” you ask incredulously.

“Maybe next time he’ll think before he cheats…” Donghyuck sings, purposefully off-key. 

You can’t fight that smile that spreads across your face, and it eventually turns into a full-on belly laugh when he continues to sing. It’s the first genuine laugh, the first moment of brief happiness and relief, that you’ve felt in a long time. You thought you had it when you set Mark’s car on fire, but something still coiled in the pit of your stomach like simmering, black smoke. In this tiny little corner that smells of pine needles and chocolate cake, you feel free like a clear sky after a long winter storm.

“For the record,” Donghyuck says, voice gently dipping, “you’ve always been too good for him, and everyone knows it―including him. He’ll regret what he did to you for the rest of his life. That’s your revenge.” 

Your breath staccatos in your chest at his words. You tell yourself that he has always been a smooth talker, but he looks at you with such honesty and warmth that you want to believe him. 

“Have you always been this sweet?” You meant for the words to come out in a teasing manner, but your voice is tinged with breathlessness. 

Donghyuck grins, and his lips remind you of the heart-shaped lollipops that you see in the store during Valentine’s Day. “The sweetest.” 

A part of you wonders what would happen if you craned your neck and kissed him right here and now. Not because you’re romantically interested in him, of course. Rather, it would be a spectacular way to get revenge on Mark. Most girls go for the brother or the best friend―maybe even the dad if one is particularly ambitious―but the cousin is an untapped (pun NOT intended) medium for revenge. 

You wonder if Donghyuck tastes like cookies or wine-filled chocolates or spiked eggnog or even fruitcake. You really hate fruitcake, but you suppose you wouldn’t mind for the sake of revenge. 

But you would never do that to him. He’s much too kind of a person to be involved in you and Mark’s mess. The fact that you’re able to confide in him and he actually takes your side is something that you truly appreciate. As much as you want to torment Mark, it’s best to just end it here. 

“You can use me too, you know,” Donghyuck adds.

“Huh?” You blink.

“For your revenge,” he clarifies. “Use me. To make him jealous, to bully him, whatever you want.” 

For a moment, you almost believe he somehow read your mind. 

“Just wanted to let you know,” he says, shrugging, “since you probably think it would be too mean. Plus, I think you would need my help anyways.”

That makes you feel greatly offended. “What is that supposed to mean? You say that like I didn’t set a car on fire.” 

“You’re too naive in your thinking. Revenge doesn’t always have to be loud and in your face like that. It’s a lot more fun when you break them down psychologically in more subtle ways,” he explains.

“So, you―as a government employee―can’t approve of me committing arson because I got cheated on, but you―as a government employee―can casually and openly discuss waging psychological warfare on another civilian. On said person who cheated on me, who also happens to be your cousin because you seemed to have forgotten that, ” you point out sardonically. 

Donghyuck just smiles before slightly leaning in, eyes flickering down to your lips. You open your mouth to retort but your words instantly die in your throat, softly gasping when his hand brushes your chin as he reaches over and swipes a bit of chocolate frosting from your bottom lip with his thumb. 

“Sure I can,” he answers smoothly, “because, unlike a certain someone, I won’t get caught.” 

“I didn’t―”

“And by the way, Mark didn’t tell me you set his car on fire.” 

You gawk at him as he walks past you with a content grin on his face. “Now come on, I hear my aunt calling for us.” 

Maybe you need to take back your earlier statement of Donghyuck being too kind. He might actually have more screws loose than you.

.

.

.

You almost completely forget about Mark until he finally comes downstairs for the white elephant exchange. You’re in such a daze from your earlier interaction with Donghyuck that you barely recoil when Mark takes a seat beside you on the couch, especially since Donghyuck is sitting in the rocking chair directly across from you. 

The gift exchange begins once everyone has drawn a number, and you honestly just dissociate for the first half of it. Keeping your gaze trained on the piece of paper that has 26 scribbled on it, you don’t look up until you feel Mark get up beside you and pick a gift from the pile. You’re praying to both Jesus and Santa that he doesn’t pick yours, but you suppose you've been deemed a sinner and also put on the Naughty List (maybe for setting your cheating ex’s care on fire?) because Mark somehow manages to find yours in the pile of presents. 

When he opens it, you can tell by the way he quickly glances at you that he knows it’s yours. After all, he saw you practicing your knitting throughout the week. He happily wraps it around his neck and beams proudly. “I love it.”

The way he carefully looks back at you makes you want to smack him into the new year. You know he’s trying to get on your good side, and you make it clear with your scowl that it isn’t working. 

You’re actually grateful that it’s your turn next so that you’re able to get up and walk away from him. Wanting to get this entire situation over with, you haphazardly grab one from the top of the pile. Your heart sinks when you take out the stuffing paper from the bag and realize that it’s Mark’s gift. You contemplate putting the paper back in and not opening it at all, but you cave under the pressure of all the expectant pairs of eyes on you. 

In typical Mark fashion, his gift is a signed T-shirt of his own merch. It’s an obnoxious yellow color with his Twitch username and a giant screen printed image of his face plastered across it. He’s written his signature right over his forehead, so it makes him look like he has random chicken scratch on his face. 

“Oh, it must be destiny!” Mrs. Lee exclaims, clapping her hands together. 

You force a smile before returning to your seat, doing everything in your power to ignore Mark’s stupid giddy expression. Shoving the shirt back into the bag, you casually kick it away from you. 

A couple more people take their turns, and you’re counting down the seconds to when this is finally over so you can go home. Eventually, it’s Donghyuck’s turn, and he saunters towards you and holds his hand out. 

“Gimme.”

You blink at him.

“Your gift. I’m stealing it,” he explains, wiggling his fingers. 

“You want…this?” you ask, completely baffled. 

“Well, duh. It’s going to sell for a lot of money, you know.” He winks. 

You can’t help but laugh when you realize he’s helping you out again. “This has to be unethical. Aren’t you a government employee?” 

“Government employees need to make money too,” he replies, sighing. 

“Well, if you really want it, I guess I have no choice,” you huff, faking exasperation before handing him the bag. 

You’re smiling when he takes it and walks back to his chair, and you hear Mark grumble something under his breath. Turning to him, you raise an eyebrow, snippily asking, “What?”

“I said,” he repeats so loudly that it reverberates throughout the room, “when did the two of you get so friendly?” 

A silence falls over everyone, and the two of you are now center stage. 

“Are you really going to do this now?” you hiss. 

“I noticed that the two of you were getting awfully cozy behind the Christmas tree earlier,” Mark retorts, shrugging. 

Donghyuck gets up to intervene, but he doesn’t have time to even react before you grab a pillow from the couch and chuck it in Mark’s face. 

“You’ve got some nerve. Was this your plan all along? To make me look like the bad guy in front of your family?” you demand, feeling your face grow hotter and hotter from rage. “You and uwukittenbb69 were getting awfully cozy too, don’t you think? I’d say snug as a bug in a goddamn rug even.” 

Mark stands up in a flash, his eyes frantically glancing at his mom before pointing his finger at you. “Baby, I told you she was just a friend.” 

You nearly choke on air when you hear him call you that. Making a beeline towards the pile of presents, you begin to toss them at Mark with each question you add. “You absolute lunatic. Do friends beg each other for pictures of their tits? Do friends write raps confessing their love for one another? Do friends blow off their anniversary with their girlfriend so that they can meet up for a quick booty call? And yes, I’m saying quick because you and I both know it’ll be a speedy endeavor.”

“What on Earth is going on?” Mrs. Lee cries out as Mark tries his best to swat away the presents being hurled at him. 

“You’re a psycho bitch,” Mark yells. “It’s not like I actually slept with her. We were just messing around online. You got jealous over nothing. And you set my car on fire!” 

“You wanna see psycho?” you snap, throwing the present in your hands down onto the floor and marching towards him with your bare fists before you suddenly stop and take in your surroundings. You see the horror and shock on everyone’s faces, the way they’re looking at you, and then perhaps most clear of all―Mark’s expression. He’s angry just like you, but there’s a glimmer of victory in his eyes. As if he’s bested you in some manner. 

And he has. You’re the villain now.

Taking in a deep breath, you will yourself to walk over to Mark in a calm manner, looking him directly in the eye. 

“You’re nothing except a liar and a cheater, Mark Lee. That will never change that no matter how much you try to spin it in front of your family. You built your success off my back, and I hope that haunts you for the rest of your life. May you receive everything that you’ve done to me tenfold. That’s all I want to say—” You pause. “Oh, and I’ve always thought your Cybertruck was fucking ugly.” 

You reach over and snatch the scarf from his neck before turning and walking out of the door, feeling like you finally managed to cut off the ball and chain around your ankle. Just as you’re about to reach your car, you hear someone calling after you. 

“I’ll drive you home,” Donghyuck says once he catches up to you. 

“I’m not so distraught that I’ll become a hazard on the road,” you say wryly

“Well, when it comes to being around a car, you’ve certainly proved that you’re not exactly at your most dangerous when you’re behind the wheel,” he jokes. 

“You may have a point,” you acknowledge, giving him a small smile.

“Let me drive you home, Y/N. I’m worried about you,” he insists again, much quieter this time. 

“How are you going to get back then?” You raise an eyebrow. 

“I’ll call an Uber or something.” 

“That would be such a waste of money,” you snort.

“Not if it’s for you,” he says almost instantly. His normally brown eyes almost look auburn when under the golden glow of the sunset. 

There’s such determination, such assurance, such warmth in his gaze that you let yourself be surrounded with, no longer having the energy to resist him, and it feels like falling onto a soft cloud after a long, winding journey. For once, you just want someone to take care of you, even if it’s just for a moment. 

“Fine. Do as you please,” you relent, tossing him your car keys before walking around to the passenger side and climbing in. 

Donghyuck looks relieved, beaming when he situates himself in the driver’s seat. You try not to be impressed with the way he easily backs out of the driveway with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the headrest behind you, maneuvering the wheel with a deftness you’ve never seen before. Then again, he does drive a massive fire truck on the daily, so your Toyota probably isn’t much of a challenge for him. 

He drives with his eyes staring straight down the road―almost too focused―because you know he’s trying not to look at you. Probably because you’re making it abundantly clear that you don’t want him to look at you, leaning your head against the window and away from him. It doesn’t mean that you don’t see his wandering eyes, almost as if it were second nature, drift back to you in the reflection of the window.

“Pathetic, right?” you finally say, feeling suffocated by the heavy silence.

“What’s pathetic?” 

“Me.” 

“Why would you be pathetic?” Donghyuck grips the steering wheel tightly, knuckles turning white as the leather creaks under the force of his hold.

“Mark was right. I talked a big game in front of him, but in the end, I was just the psycho ex-girlfriend. I told myself that I would never let him hold my emotions hostage anymore. That I would erase any care I had for him left in me. Because indifference means that I’m truly free. But I couldn’t do it. I really hate him, to my very core, and that means he still has power over me. I hate that most of all. I want him to feel the same pain I did, and I want to exact revenge on him, but at the same time, I want to move on with my life. I’m like a dog chasing my own tail; it’s pathetic.” 

You wanted to sound more lighthearted about this, turn it into a joke, but Donghyuck seems to draw out a vulnerability within you that makes you want to tell him everything you’ve been trying to desperately ignore. 

“Y/N, you’re dealing with the end of a long-term relationship. It’s only natural that you have confusing and conflicting feelings about everything. You’re not pathetic; you’re human. Mark stole your girlhood and your youth, and it’s going to take time for you to heal from that. It’s impossible to immediately get back on your feet after what he did to you. None of this is your fault, so don’t ever berate yourself,” Donghyuck’s voice trembles as he speaks. “I promise you that one day, you’re going to wake up and you’ll realize that you don’t remember what Mark's favorite food is. His favorite movie. His favorite color. Then you’ll realize that you can barely even remember what his face looks like when he’s sad, happy, angry. Eventually, you’ll forget about him entirely, and all the pain he caused you will just be seconds of your life that evaporates from your mind completely.”

When he speaks to you like there’s nothing he’s more sure of in this world, it makes you want to believe him. You want to be his promise. 

“Thank you, Donghyuck,” you whisper, placing your hand on top of his for just a moment before pulling away. Your touch is feather light, but you hope he didn’t notice the way your fingertips lingered a second longer. 

The two of you fall quiet again, but this time, the silence is much more comfortable now. You’re almost disappointed when he pulls into your apartment complex, unsure of how to say goodbye to him. 

“Would you like some hot cocoa or something?” you blurt out when he parks. “I think I have some in my apartment.”

You don’t realize how suggestive your offer sounds until it’s too late. Donghyuck hesitates for a moment, and you can tell he’s debating on if he should tease you about it or not. To your surprise, he doesn’t.

“Nah, it’s okay. It’s getting dark soon, so I should head back.” He pulls out his phone and starts ordering an Uber. 

“Want me to wait with you then?” You’re not sure why you keep insisting on staying with him, but this day has been so batshit insane that you almost feel like a passenger in your own body. 

“Probably not a good idea,” he chuckles.

Now, you feel both confused and slightly offended again.

“And why is that? I know I’ve been a bit of a menace today, but still…” you trail off awkwardly. 

Donghyuck pauses for a moment as he stares at you; his face is closer to yours than it’s ever been because you’re sitting right next to him. You can tell he’s thinking very carefully about his next words. It occurs to you that, for a guy as seemingly flippant as him, he is actually quite thoughtful.

“You know, I’ve been compared to Mark my entire life,” he begins, musing. 

“Sooo…you didn’t want me to wait with you because you’re gearing up for a trauma dump?” You raise an eyebrow. 

Donghyuck holds his hand up in front of you, shushing you. “Shh, let me have my big moment.” 

“Sorry. Please proceed.” 

“Ahem. As I was saying, I was but a poor, innocent wee boy living in the shadow of the golden child in our family. Mark was always the more athletic, the funnier, the more charming one. His grades were ass, but he always managed to get out of trouble because he was the favorite. When I got my job as a firefighter and he was unemployed, my family barely congratulated me or even acknowledged it at all because they were afraid they would upset Mark. You see, I’ve actually lived quite a tragic life,” Donghyuck sniffles, wiping away a fake tear. 

“What a shame that they can’t see how wonderful you are,” you chime in, a smile in your voice. 

Your honesty in response to his joke visibly catches him off guard, and he blinks a couple of times before your words finally register. 

“Right?” he huffs dramatically, but he can’t seem to meet your eyes completely as a light flush dustes his face and ears. “But fret not, I didn’t particularly mind. It was nice not having to live up to any expectations. Besides, I was happy for Mark when he finally got successful as a streamer. We were raised like brothers, and I always admired him. I was proud of him.” 

“Ha, little did you know—”

“All this to say that, growing up, I’ve never been once jealous of Mark,” Donghyuck states proudly. 

Then he slowly looks over at you with longing eyes, almost as if his body turning itself towards you is a natural reflex. His expression is so soft and affectionate that it nearly takes your breath away. 

“That is, until he met you.” 

So, this is what Donghyuck looks like when he’s in love. You wonder if it would ever be possible for you to wake up one day and not remember it. 

But you aren’t sure if you return his feelings in the same way. Just like you couldn’t bring yourself to use him for your revenge, you can’t bring yourself to ask him to wait for you while you figure out the mess of your current emotional state. The one who loves more always loses, and you don’t want to lose Donghyuck. 

“I just wanted to tell you that,” he continues, “I’m not expecting a response. It’s for the better you don’t respond right now anyways. If you want to pretend like this conversation was all a bad dream conjured up by sleep paralysis and never want to talk about it again, I’m okay with that too.” 

You smile. 

“But…if you’re able to, just look my way sometimes. I’ll do everything in my power to keep your attention, even if I have to get on a unicycle with a clown nose and juggle. And, if one day, you find yourself looking for me on your own, let me know. Then, I’ll ask for an answer,” Donghyuck promises.  

True to your word, you don’t give him an answer. Instead, you take the scarf that’s been laying across your lap—the scarf with a few holes thanks to missing yarn and sections where you accidentally knitted the pattern in the wrong direction. Now it’s a bit stretched out due to you snatching it off Mark. 

But this scarf, as average (maybe even less) as it may be, is charming in its own way. 

Leaning forward, you wrap the scarf around Donghyuck’s neck. He watches you in complete awe, in a trance, as if he were in a dream and any movement would wake him up. 

“I should head inside now,” you say quietly, trying not to giggle at his stupefied expression.

He only nods dazedly, and you’re certain that would have been his reaction regardless of what you said. It takes a few more beats for your words to actually click before he clears his throat loudly. “Right. Yes. You should.” 

He hands you your keys back before stepping out of the car and opening your door for you. “I’ll wait down here until you get inside, and then I’ll go meet my Uber.” 

“Thanks for driving me,” you say, realizing you never thanked him. 

“You’re welcome. Good night, Y/N.” Donghyuck puts his hands in his pockets and tucks his chin into the scarf as he watches you go.

As your hand hovers over the doorknob, you know you should just open the door and walk inside so you don’t keep him waiting in the cold. You really shouldn’t look back because it would mean that you wanted to. Not because he asked you to. 

But you do. You look back—

only to meet his eyes, the two of you exchanging knowing smiles.

extra | is it me? am i the drama? i don’t think i’m the drama…

r/AmITheAsshole

u/justgirlythings-arson119 • 9h

(UPDATE) AITA for setting my cheating ex’s car on fire? (and then falling for his cousin)

So, it turns out my cheating ex got catfished. His supposed Discord kitten was actually some random guy and his friend who were dicking around. They ended up leaking the DMs so they’re all public now for those who would like to read them (by now, I’m sure you all know who my cheating ex is). I would highly advise against listening to the rap confession though. Godspeed if you choose to. I am also selling his expensive PC setup on Facebook Marketplace if anyone’s interested. Happy New Year!

P.S. I ended up inviting the cousin over for hot cocoa. He’s very sweet. 

⥣ 11.3k ⥥ 2,293 Comments

pissrevolver1122 • 8h rip bozo got catfished by me n bro for some robux 

➥ Reply ⥣ 3.8k ⥥

pooprevolver0205 • 8h can’t believe bro actually jacked off to a pic of knees LMAO ➥ ⥣ 1.9k ⥥

piss-k1nk0219 • 2h yall are about to have the awkwardest family get togethers ever lmao

➥ Reply ⥣ 910 ⥥

bigsnowballs0813 • 4h $5 and an iced coffee for the pc take it or leave it

➥ Reply ⥣ 748 ⥥

femboyluvr0701 • 1h are u gonna set the cousin's car on fire too

➥ Reply ⥣ 639 ⥥

justgirlythings-arson119 • 1h probably not he’s very good at putting out fires :(  ➥ ⥣ 482 ⥥

[boolger]

A lapdog at a farm - chapter 6

<-former chapter -AO3-next chapter -> Call of duty. My ko-fi, Explicit, 18+, minors do not interact. read the tags. WC: 6.1k

MDNI MDNI READ THE TAGS

tags: Rape/non-con elements, dub-con, dog!hybrid!people being kept as pets, alternative universe - farm, dark, farmer!John Price, working-dogs, punishments, mating cycles/rut/heat (no omegaverse), the dove isn't dead but its dying, it dies later on, reader is a brat, knotting, animal tails and ears, mentions of trauma, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, collars, rough sex, breeding kink, biting, threesome, foursome, everyone is fucking your honor, enemies to lovers, chubby reader, reader has a pussy, pregnancy

Authors note: this is unedited until I pull myself together and fix it tomorrow. Thank u for your patience while I stumbled through life.Enjoy sinners.❤️

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

You found him in the living room alone, reading. Your uncertainty made you whine, your fear of him actually getting rid of you overtaking you once more.

“John?” Your voice was barely above a whisper and you slowly crawled closer to him in the armchair, leaning against one of his legs, carefully looking up at him.

“Yes, sweetheart?” He lowered his book, a soft smile on his face, looking down at you with a gaze you had missed. A look shared just between the two of you, with an understanding and loving gentleness that made your heart swell. Nikolai was outside, having forced John to stay. To relax.

“Are you going to ban me from the house?” Your voice shook a little, for once not dramatic in any way or using it to get attention; it was from genuine worry of being abandoned, “or get a new lapdog?”

You could see it happen honestly, some cute little thing that was everything you were insecure about. Having spent a whole life being forced and told to be a lapdog, suddenly being pushed out of that box felt weird. It scared you, the thought of Price not wanting you back inside then, not a good enough working dog but not a good enough lapdog either. You’d never had full control over your life - and once again, your fate was in the hands of somebody else.

John blinked down at you while you tipped your ears down a little, tail still while you waited for the reply.

Waiting for your upcoming future to be revealed; to be forced to be an outdoor dog, just for your owner to find a new sweet thing to cast his love upon. Somebody who accepted everything without question.

“Oh, princess,” the softness almost took you by surprise and then his warm hand was on your head, gently petting you and you felt your eyelids lower as little, breathing in the love, “my sweet darling puppy.”

A whimper left you.

“I have not been giving you enough attention, have I?” He was whispering too now.

“I just -“ you hadn’t planned to cry but you felt the tears threaten to break free from your eyes, “I know you want me to get along with the others but I don’t wanna lose you, I don’t -“

His hands moved and suddenly the book slid down to the floor, while you were grabbed beneath your armpits and you were more than happy to help crawl up in his lap.

“My sweet girl,” he whispered into your skin as you nuzzled closer, both his and your own arms sliding around to hold around the other. Intertwined. Your soft body was pulled tight against your owner and you breathed in the pure scent of him, feeling your tail wagging even as you sniffled a little.

“I will never get rid of you,” he whispered, “no matter what happens, you’re my princess puppy. My sweet darling, my perfect Daisy, eh?”

You nodded into his neck, your fingers digging into his clothes. Trying to make your brain understand the words, accept them, try to keep your anxieties away.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered but Price just gave you a squeeze.

“Don’t apologise,” he answered gently in his own whisper, “I’m sorry, darling, we’re not going back to the city but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve my attention. Misbehaving or not.”

You cried into his neck, one of his hands gently petting your back, his hand a calming touch as your rib cage shuddered now and again.

“I love you, sir.”

“I love you too, my sweet girl,” he promised, “even when Nikolai moves in permanently or when you get along more with the boys, you’ll always be my favorite girl, my favorite puppy. Got it?”

“Yessir,” it was barely a whisper any more. Settled in his lap, you might have been instantly fucking in the past, but for now the two of you just enjoyed each others closeness.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Outside the safety of the farmhouse that you never wanted to live in, laid the dangerous grounds; filled with terrifying animals and farm hands that tease you, with creepy sheep that screamed, with threatening fields that seemed never ending yet the fear of the unsafe on the other end seemed worse.

There was the stench of so many things, so many objects that could offer pain, animals that could attack, hybrids that could bite.

But you had found one single spot that you supposed you liked.

… a little bit.

Not if anybody asked.

You carefully pet the head of one of the mothers, as it bleated at you, eyes carefully watching you. Whether it didn’t find you dangerous or remembered you from the other day, you weren’t sure - and it wasn’t like you could ask it.

But none of them attacked you as you joined them, sitting down close to the baby goats, just as Gaz had shown you the other day.

Their tiny bodies happily snoozing away in the hay, small tails wagging.

… you supposed this was a nice place on the farm as well.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

You curled a little closer around Price’s feet that night, listening to the distant barks now and again. It was a riddle to you how the other hybrids were able to stay up so late. You knew they slept in schedules and you had seen them nap several times during the day. Still.

Perhaps it was your fear of the unknown in the dark that you didn’t like. You assumed the pack had seen worse than these dark fields; they never spoke about it, at least not while you were near, but you weren’t stupid. Sure, you had been sheltered a bit since everything had been focused on being a lapdog and you weren’t that great of a reader, but you had seen television. Listened to the radio. And, you had seen their scars, heard a bit from John and Nik - you knew Soap had lost most of his hearing because of explosive, you had seen the bullet scars and their implicit history on their skin. You didn’t want to know about how Ghost got the scars around his mouth or how it looked like one of Gaz’s legs had been stuck in a bear trap like contraption at some point.

Still, despite knowing that they could take care of themselves and was dangerous on their own, you were horrified when you woke a few days later, early in the morning - to the distant sound of barking and snarling, to howls that sounded more wolf than hybrid - to the sounds of the different farm animals getting antsy.

You had woken Price then, worried about them even if you didn’t say it directly — Nik woke the moment your owner got out of bed, your whines making him groan.

Uttering the word ‘wolves’ had awoken them both fully in a matter of seconds.

You could still hear scuffle in the distance, angry barks and sounds that confused you and you didn’t want Price to go outside alone. Even as Nik got up and Price got his shot gun, you were worried.

Was he going outside? What if the boys were hurt and they couldn’t keep John safe?

It had gone quiet.

Despite your lack of knowledge about anything and your fear overwhelming you in the early morning hours, you still followed, quickly tugging on shoes and a jacket.

The lights outside of the gravel driveway lit up the place as John and Nik went out first, the motion sensors activated. You barely needed to take more than a few steps outside to see why. They walked with calm steps.

There was a heavy sound as the body slammed onto the ground, completely still. Then another. The wolves laid on the gravel, no sound escaping their maws that seemed giant to you - blood seeping into the fur.

Blood was smeared across the faces of the three hybrids, making them look like brutal deities in your mind. Stepping out of a nightmare, victorious over the monsters. You couldn’t help your tail wagging a little with pride - or how your pussy reacted to the sight of three strong hybrids as well.

Tongues licked off blood from fangs and lips. Eyes rested on you - then their owners - then back on you.

They had saved the goats and sheep from being wolf dinner - both Nik and Price praising them, ruffling their hair and patting them. The shotgun was lowered and after a quick check it was confirmed that they wouldn’t be needing them. Both animals were dead.

There was pride from them, but also from Nik and John, who tried getting them inside, promising food. But the hybrids refused, wanting to stay out instead until later. To make sure no other wolves came by.

Soap sneaked from the two of them to you, his tail wagging proudly, chested puffed up a little.

“Could nae let ‘em get close tae yer goats, princess,” he rumbled darkly, and you didn’t move as he got close to you - almost touching you, sniffing your neck. Another please rumble leaving you.

“Thank you,” you whispered back, your own tail wagging a little, for once not minding the sniffing, despite the quite disgusting blood on him. Unsure of how to describe that you were relieved that nothing happened to them either… that wasn’t anything you would admit to anyways.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“Ex-fucking-cuse you?” You all but snarled, hands instantly going onto the table, body ready to jump across the table and attack the man who had just offered the worst fucking idea ever. Hadn’t it been for John’s quick hand on your collar and Laswell’s hand gently pressing against your chest to get you to sit your ass back down, you would be fully attacking Nikolai now.

Nikolai, who looked quite amused - and rather pleased with himself over your reaction.

“Settle down, princess,” there was a stern tone in Price’s voice but you still tipped your long ears a little downwards, baring your filed down teeth at your owner’s boyfriend.

“That’s not your decision!” You were almost screaming, growling so loudly you almost surprised yourself.

“Sit down, milaya,” Nikolai said, amusement barely hidden in his tone and you regretted not biting the man’s finger off that first day.

“You don’t decide that over me!” You screamed this time, your collar tugged further backwards and it wasn’t until a sharp slap from John landed on your cheek, that you looked away from him.

“Sit down, princess.” His voice was harder now and you finally followed John’s order, sitting back down on your chair. While Laswell’s hand retreated, Price’s grip remained on your collar. The woman didn’t particularly look too pleased neither how this was going; you had a strong suspicion that she had seen this coming or knew of it - and that it annoyed her to have her meal disturbed by it.

She had teased you about it so many weeks ago, had she not?

“He can’t decide that,” you whined, looking over at John, wanting him to agree with you, to not let Nikolai control your body like that.

“No, he can’t decide that -,” John’s voice was almost sweet and you could feel your heart almost stop its intense pounding in your chest, only for it to pick up again as he continued, “but neither can you, technically.”

You whimpered, trying to make yourself a little smaller somehow, despite your size, “- sir-“

“I’m your owner, my pretty pup,” he reminded you, letting go of the collar, the warm hand instead softly patting the cheek he had just slapped mere moments ago, “so I can make that decision. If I want your implant taken out, then that’s what we’ll do.”

You let out a displeased whine, almost ready to cry.

“Then I’ll go into he-heat,” you whispered pathetically, the few memories you had of those not good ones, hazy and feverish moments flashing before your eyes, almost childishly adding “I don’t wanna.”

“Yes, you will,” Price agreed softly, caressing your cheek gently, while he stared into your eyes with a soft look, as he had just confirmed a fear of yours. It was like no one but the two of you existed for a few moments - as if everything and everyone else had disappeared into smoke, leaving you and your owner as the last breathing beings of the universe, “but you might get a litter with the boys - wouldn’t that be nice, princess?”

“No.”

Nikolai let out a huff. You knew both Kate and John were watching you, looking for any signs of your chubby ass jumping over the table in order to strangle Nik. Instead you just let out a growl. You received a nudge with the elbow fit on Kate. You were probably real close to losing table rights and being forced to eat on the ground but you didn’t care.

“Not now, of course,” Nikolai tried, “summer first.”

“Why not spring?” Price suggested and Nik shook his head, while you wanted to suggest that they could go fuck themselves with both ideas.

The worst thing was that you maybe, just maybe didn’t mind getting a litter. You would never admit to it, especially not while Nik was in the room, but your instincts had been screaming every second you had spent with the goats. But it was out of your control, so you refused out of pure spite.

“- can become better friends,” you heard Kate say as you zoned back into the conversations, almost wanting to snap at Kate now. She had brought up litters the very first time that they had met the mutts.

“No they won’t. Worst thing they’ll do is probably knock you up.” The memory of her words echoed in your mind for a while.

“-spring, then pups will be born in late winter,” Nik pointed out, as they sat there and talked about you and your apparent upcoming litter, “nyet, summer - then puppies will come spring. Good for their lungs.”

“We don’t know if it will even take quickly,” Kate pointed out and you felt her hand gently petting you, scratching behind one of your dog ears, as if to comfort you which wasn’t too often she did so, “she has had implants for quite a while, after all.”

You wanted to cry and scream and beg to be the one to decide when at the very least. Or if. The idea of going into heat scared you shitless - with three beasts to help you through it? No thanks.

The food on your plate with the cute paw patterns along the rim suddenly didn’t look so enticing, despite there being everything you would usually love on it. Even a couple of strawberries.

You barely managed to eat those, ignoring their talks for the rest of the dinner.

You didn’t eat much more, disappearing the moment you could, rushing out the door, ignoring the sharp stones biting into your bare feet or your lack of jacket. Not stopping or listening as Price and Nikolai called out your name.

Pretending you didn’t want to scream and cry, throwing a tantrum on the floor inside- but you didn’t, for once. Though tears swelled in your eyes.

They didn’t go after you, probably because they suspected that you weren’t going to run off - and you weren’t, which wasn’t hard to guess, given how you ran directly towards the stable.

It wasn’t that you liked the stables. No. It was tolerable… maybe a little nice. Out of the whole farm, it was tolerable.

You didn’t enter the booth you had been in before however, not wanting to scare the animals off by being upset. They were all laying inside after a nice day spent out in the sun, doing whatever goats did during the day - now relaxing as the dark overtook the sun’s place. You kept your sniffling to a minimum, stubbornly drying away any of the tears.

“ ‘you upset?”

The deep voice caught you off guard, making you jump - several of the goats looking towards the voice. A few of them bleating.

Ghost stood a little further down the hallway of the stables, the great Pyrenees hybrid looking at you - you couldn’t quite decipher what he was thinking, if he found it amusing or was pitying you. Scarred white ears tipping towards you.

You huffed, crossing your arms, trying your best to look tough, raising your tail a little as you let out a stubborn “no,” trying to ignore how your voice shook a little.

“Uh-huh,” Ghost answered, clearly not convinced one bit and you considered bolting back inside, “so it wasn’t you screamin’ bloody murder in th’ hous’ a moment ago?”

Your tail fell a little and you looked away, ignoring the way Ghost sighed - as if upset with the fact you wouldn’t just admit what was wrong, what had happened. As if the two of you had a normal kind of relationship or… whatever this was, that your owner was trying to force upon you.

“Come,” he grunted out then - and you looked back at him; he had already turned around, walking down the stone floor. You dared to cast another glance at the goats, who were all staring at you, as if to say ‘get going’. So you followed, a little tense, still drying off a couple of tears with the back of your hands.

Ghost had stopped in front of a couple of hay bales, not too far from one of the bigger windows. The big hybrid sat down with a grunt, yawning for a moment; his big canines exposed, reminding you of how they felt when they sank into your skin, pierced it and entered your muscle. There was nothing threatening about him right now however - in fact he patted the spot next to him on the bale. You stood a couple of steps from it, unsure whether to do as he silently asked you to.

There was no growling. No hard stares from him, in fact, he was looking out through the window, keeping tabs of things, even when inside. You finally sat down with a sniffle.

For a couple of seconds, there was only the sound of you sniffling and the faint sounds of the animals in their booths. Baby goats with their light voices. Shuffling in the hay. A horse moving in its booth, the faint sound of eating.

“What happened, then?” he asked, voice a little softer than what he usually spoke like. You dared to look up at him, his body giant even when sitting down - as if he could feel your glance, he looked down at you, meeting your gaze. Suddenly your nails were much more interesting to look at.

“Why do you care?” you asked almost accusatory, voice not that loud, vary about his interest in you. You earned a huff in response.

“You sounded quite upset,” he said a few moments later, “we got worried.”

Your bare, slightly cold toes curled. We got worried. They cared… or at the very least, they were curious. You weren’t sure if you even wanted them to be either. Even though attention was attention, no matter the kind, you supposed.

“You don’t care,” you accused in a voice that barely sounded rude, barely sounded like you meant it. The other man let out a hum like the asshole he was and it annoyed you; it wasn’t the reaction you had expected, wasn’t a mean laughter or a tug on the tail.

Instead you were met with his half lidded eyes watching you, as he quietly waited. He didn’t move to hurt you. Finally you caved.

“They wann’ take out my implant,” you finally murmured, looking down at your feet now. You would need a bath when you got inside. There was sawdust and tiny pieces of hay on them, dirt from the outside. You settled a little more on the hay bale, trying to get comfortable as you were uncomfortable with being honest with Ghost.

“Implant?” Ghost repeated and you didn’t even care whether it was a question or not, you merely nodded. The silence filled up the air for a few moments and you dried another of the stupid, stubborn tears of your cheek.

“‘That will mean you go into heat, yeah?” he finally asked and you wanted to curl upon yourself at the mere mention. Maybe bury yourself in the hay. Once more, you nodded, your tongue feeling as if it was swelling in your mouth.

“I don’t want to,” you whispered, “Nikolai just said it… so casually.”

“Why don’t you want to?”

“They didn’t ask me,” you sniffled, “I don’t like heats.”

“When was the last time ye’ even had one?”

“... years ago,” you admitted to the bigger hybrid, “I didn’t like it.”

“Hm. Sounds like ye’ didn’t have a good partner then,” hadn’t you been too upset you would have rolled your eyes at him - then again, it wasn’t like he sounded demeaning. More just… pitiful. You didn’t want pity from him, you wanted it from your owner.

“Was it with a hybrid?”

The question caught you off guard - you looked up at him again and Ghost was looking down at you, towards the left; he somehow seemed non judgemental, even though you had expected him to be mean about it.

“T-the first time, yeah.”

“The others not?”

You shook your head and looked away again. It wasn’t like you wanted to talk to him about this whole thing, about your body, about heat. Yet, here you fucking were.

“It’s easier when it’s with hybrids. The pheromones help.” His explanation was gentle and your mind almost found the gentleness confusing. You were too used to his sarcastic comments, to his meanness, to his thirst for your body, whether you wanted to or not.

“Doesn’t matter,” you murmured, “don’t want a litter anyways.”

“They talkin’ about puppies too?”

He sounded genuinely surprised - and then a familiar spike hit the air. The scent of lust sparked, escaping the bigger hybrid. You didn’t dare to look at him. Neither of you moved.

“I just want to decide for myself.”

Ghost huffed. You didn’t look at him, ignoring the lust still crawling through the air.

“you’re a hybrid,” it was a reminder, a statement you knew was true even as the following words hurt, “you know you don’t have that choice.”

“I know,” you snapped, ears tipping backwards a little, finally looking up at him again, baring your teeth a little at the hybrid, “I just want some sort of control.”

He stared down at you. The pupils of his eyes had expanded and in the slightly dark stable, his eyes almost seemed black.

“I haven’t heard ya’ say that you don’t want our puppies though,” he said instead, darkness seeping into his voice even if it wasn’t that loud, a hunger you had heard before.

“I don’t want to,” you whispered in return, lying, trying your best to keep the anger in your voice.

“No?” he asked again, disbelief in his voice, a teasing tone as he added, “don’t want us to fill you up, huh? Fill you with puppies?”

The idea made your entire body feel hot and you wanted to hide from the shame that followed the lust. The idea of them actually breeding you, leaving your belly swollen a couple of months later.

“Hehe.”

You ignored his dark chuckle, knowing your own lust got exposed from your scent - in fact, you froze as Ghost leant down a little, ignoring your bared teeth and took a deep breath, inhaling your scent. He was nasty, you reminded yourself, even as you felt your pussy wetten, a nasty hound. You should bite him, attack him. Instead you didn’t move, his scarred nose touching your skin as he pushed a little closer, a deep groan leaving him.

Finally he straightened his back, pulling away. As you felt a whine escape you, he looked rather pleased with himself.

“Take control of what little things you can then, princess,” he finally crooned, “we will help you.”

For a moment you thought he was going to fuck you right there. Press your face into the bale as you got fucked from behind, howls muted by it as he filled your cunt with his cock. Yet he didn’t do that; despite not even hiding how he and his pack wanted to spend your heat with you, the implication of them knocking you up - well… you had expected him to fuck you. A part of you, that sinful, bad part that you sometimes hated, was almost disappointed.

“Let’s get you inside’,” he said instead of touching you as expected, “dont wan’ you to get sick.”

He abandoned you by the door, telling you to get some more clothes on so you wouldn’t be sick. You just nodded, his words still in your mind.

“Take control of what little things you can then, princess, we will help you.”

But what could you control? It sounded like they had already planned out your entire pregnancy, down to how to best care for the pups and socialise them - figure out whether they would work best as lapdogs or working dogs.

You weren’t sure why it caught you so off guard; it really shouldn’t have. Seeing them both naked wasn’t a new sight to you, you had had sex with both of them. Yet seeing them like this, together, their chest hairs touching as they grinded against each other, Nikolai’s cock deep inside John.

The sight made you whimper. The scent of sex was heavy in the air and it made your own pussy wet. You took a step closer towards them, both men looking over at you, though their movements didn’t stop.

The very least they could do after upsetting you, would be to fuck you silly. Nik hands tightened on John’s skin, love clear in his eyes as he looked back at John, smiling.

You took another step forward, carefully moving to pull off your shirt.

However, Nik stopped John from riding him, your owner letting out a displeased sound, bare toes curling as Nik’s cock rested fully inside him.

The Russian tugged at you, making you stop where you were, letting go of your shirt.

They didn’t want you to join.

“Misbehaved earlier, milaya,” Nikolai pointed out, his big hands resting on John’s hips, who huffed, clearly not pleased with the pausing.

“Go to your room, princess,” John urged, his gaze softer, skin sweaty, face red.

“Please.” You weren’t beneath begging, despite your anger at them.

“Do you want time in the crate?” That made you bolt, ignoring their giggles that were soon replaced with moans again.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

You stole one of their jackets in the hallway since it was the closest, putting on a pair of boots, before you left the farmhouse once more.

This time you didn’t go towards the stables.

You felt embarrassed, but you were upset, almost desperate. One dog, seeking out another. The same hounds you had promised never to like.

But you were fucked up, you knew that somewhere deep inside, but your instincts were begging for some comfort. Since your owners weren’t willing to give it to you, you went to the next best. The ones you had declared your hatred towards all this time, who had hurt your repeatedly yet still made you smile as well.

You hadn’t been in their little house ever since last time; it looked almost the same, safe some more clothes and their scent more present. There were a few photos on the walls.

None of them were there. You whined, entering it anyways, toeing off the boots, carefully going into the dimly lit place. It was almost like a little home.

You could remember when they had tumbled out from their respective carriers, drugged and confused. You sniffed around a little, before you ended up settling in the hay area. It seemed to be the lesser used sleeping place and you didn’t want to intrude in their nest, despite your hatred for them.

They probably would have done that to you, you realized, but you wanted sex; not a fight. You sniffled as you curled up in the hay, feeling the vague prickling from the straws.

You felt lost. Angry, upset. Worse, horny. If they didn’t want to fuck you, you had other places to go. Things had changed, whether you wanted them to or not and you had no control there either. Despite not getting along with Nikolai most of the time, he and John seemed… happy together.

As you laid in the shed, you listened to the world outside. You could hear an owl, or at least, you were pretty sure it was an owl. That was what they sounded like in television shows. Then there was the wind. It made some nearby trees sway, some fields too.

You sniffled a little more.

You had changed too, you knew that. With or without your consent - so had the other hybrids, it seemed. Price had confirmed he still loved you however and despite your current anger and betrayal you felt towards him, you knew your owner wouldn’t truly abandon you. Nik wouldn’t want that either.

The nearby footsteps roused you from your half sleeping thoughts and a moment passed by, before the door was opened - you wondered for a moment, if it was John or Nikolai coming to pull you back inside for not following their commands.

Instead it was Ghost.

Despite seeing him just a mere moment ago, you had already forgotten how big and intimidating he was; it surely didn’t help that you were laying down or he was barely lit from the light above you.

“Princess,” he greeted, tipping his head to the side, clear confusion over seeing you here. You whined, doing your best to prove that you were not here to fight, carefully wagging your tail as you curled to the side a little, showing your stomach.

He huffed, looking over his shoulder again, but despite his lack of words, he didn’t seem to be against you being in there, in fact you could see his tail wag. The scent from him became a little thicker.

He let out a sharp bark.

You heard their movements a moment later and as Ghost entered, Soap and Gaz followed — clearly much more surprised to see you there, a couple of excited barks leaving them. A sharp growl from Ghost made them quiet down then and you curled yourself to the side again.

Fearing for a moment that he would turn you away as well. While Gaz and Sop began to pull off their outdoors clothes, Ghost walked to the edge of the hay filled area, squatting down, as you carefully sat up.

You must have looked like a little mess, eyelids puffy, eyes red, hay in your hair. Pathetic thing, your mind supplied, why would they want you?

“Why ar’ you here, princess?” Ghost asked and you felt your muscles tense.

“I can leav—“

“He dinnae say that,” Soap was quick to interject, letting you and Ghost have some space. He smiled at you - so did Gaz. You dared to look back at Ghost… he looked worried, a small smile.

“I - they didn’t want to fuck me,” you admitted with a whisper, “I want somebody to want me.”

Simon let out a huff and you tried making yourself seem smaller. Telling them that they were second choice had perhaps not been the best decision.

“Do you actually want us?” Kyle asked, his arms now crossed, a more sceptical look on his face.

“Yeah,” you whispered, because that was the truth; their mere eyes on you made your pussy clench around nothing, “want you. Nice. Show me, I…”

You didn’t know how to describe it. Instead you dared to crawl through the little hay, all close to Ghost now. Stopping, looking into his eyes that was staring right back at you; your faces were so close they would almost touch with the wrong movement.

“Princess,” there was hunger in his voice that made you lick your lips.

“I am taking control,” you whispered, “making my own decision.”

A smug smile appeared on his scarred face and then the hybrid leant forwards nuzzling his nose against yours for a short moment.

“Let’s get you to the nest,” he rumbled, an almost underlying hum in his voice, the scent of lust almost exploding from everyone in the little shed “we’re not fucking you in the hay.”

They were welcoming you to their nest. Not forcing you and you whined with happiness, letting out a yelp as Simon then lifted you quickly with a little grunt. You landed on their mattresses and blankets a second later, a wagging Soap next to you almost instantly, licking your cheek.

“Dinnae worry, hen - I’ll take ye’ where ever ye’ want.”

Gaz appeared on your other side, arms curling around you and nuzzling into your chest.

“Stay with us tonight,” he asked softly, “please.”

How could you say no to a polite offer like that? You nodded, his tail wagging as well, thumping rhythmically against a pillow.

A moment later an energy bar hit your stomach and then the others as well.

“Eat first,” Ghost commanded, “we will need the energy.”

Since you hadn’t eaten much earlier, you were only happy to, hungrily watching together with Soap and Gaz as Ghost pulled off his shirt.

Gaz turned and nuzzled against you after eating, pressing his face against one of your tits.

“I’m sorry they didn’t ask you ‘bout the litter beforehand,” he said, meaning that Ghost had told them. The big man shrugged as you shot him a look, as he focused on eating his own energy bar.

You looked up at the ceiling, licking your lips for a short moment. Your pussy was dripping wet by now, knowing it was a matter of time before the other hybrids would fuck you dumb all night. As a short of fuck you to John and Price, but also because you genuinely wanted it for once.

An idea filled your head, only shortly distracted as Soap grinded against you, his hard on most likely leaking in his own underwear.

“I can smell ye’ kitty,” he crooned darkly and you had almost forgotten how he had called your pussy that, “I’m gonna make ‘er purr, pretty lass.”

You let out a needy whimper, closing your eyes for a moment. Thinking. It was stupid, probably a dangerous idea. Yet it slipped from your lips as you sat up and looked directly at Ghost.

“Rip out my implant.”

The little house went quiet immediately.

“Wat?” It was Soap who spoke the first, sitting up and looking at you, confusion taking over his horniness.

“No,” Gaz said, uncertainty in his voice over your idea, “didn't they want to wait?”

You almost wanted to growl at him.

“If I’m having pups, I want them on my terms,” you huffed, sending Gaz a sharp look, his ears tipping down in submission for once and you looked back at Ghost, who was undoubtedly their leader.

“Knock me up.”

“It’s just yet anger, innit?” He pointed out, mean but with a smile on his face that looked almost hungry , “sure you want our pups, darlin’? We’re not lapdogs.”

“Want somebody who can protect me,” you pointed out, “protect me ‘nd my pups. Not a lapdog.”

There were pleased growls from all of them. Both Soap and Gaz began to touch your shamelessly, pulling at your clothes to get them off and Ghost got down on all four, crawling towards you, making you lay down again, helping them get your shirt off. Bared and without any agression, they all shared a look.

“This isn’t a one time thing,” Gaz earned, “if we do this you’re ours. Not just sometimes, all the time.”

You whimpered at his words, nodding as you felt slick wetting your panties even more. Soap growled into your neck, taking deep breaths.

“No takin’ the pups from us,” he warned, “no matter who of us succeeds.”

“I won’t,” you promised quickly, moving your head to tip it up to kiss him and agreeing against his lips, “want my pups to grow up with their daddies.”

They all growled in delight, more hands on you and you helped getting the last things off, tugging at their clothes as well, making them undress so you weren’t restricted by clothes.

Daddies - they were going to knock you up; breed you, like a dark part of your mind wanted, breed you for days, not letting you leave without being pregnant. Fucking you day and night, making sure your cunt was stuffed with their cum.

Ghost were grinning darkly down at you, hunger in his eyes, cock hard between his legs, dripping already - your hand resting against Gaz’ neck and Soap’s hair.

“Now Princess,” Ghost crooned darkly, his fangs almost shining in the dim light of the shed, all of your tails wagging, the heavy scent of lust, with your slick and their precum in the air, “in which arm is that implant of yours?”

[lululocomo]

The new past AU: The attack

CW: blood (not very visible)

Finally sharing this art✨ the shiny stuffs are magical/celestial spearheads, don't question too much how this work or how this could cause fire, it just did-

Writing of the scene under the cut! Enjoy!! (angst with a happy ending ofc)

It was a peaceful and calm day on Flower Fruit Mountain, and today, MK was with his dad and the pilgrims.

Macaque was taking his usual stroll in the peach orchard, appreciating this beautiful corner of his home.  when this uneasy feeling slowly crawled under his skin. He could feel it, something was about to happen.Wanting to know the source of this feeling, he used his enhanced hearing. But even with it, he wasn’t able to pinpoint the exact origin of the disturbance; only that it was coming from the celestial realm.

The next moments all happened so fast: focusing all his attention toward the sky high above, Macaque never expected the sound of commotion coming from his very home. 

How was this possible?? He was convinced the problem is with the celestials, there is no way the mountain was the target- oh - oh no- now everything made sense.”Heaven is attacking”.

How could this happen?? How could the Six Eared Macaque not hear an incoming attack?! He’s supposed to protect this place! This couldn’t be real, this was a nightmare, and he can’t wake up. 

He rushed to the source of commotion, hearing only screams and noises that will forever haunt him, forgetting his shadow power in his panic.

Finally leaving the forest and at the border of the clearing, his heart sank with the scene his eye lay upon:

The mountain is covered in flames, the village is destroyed, and monkeys are escaping the chaos the best they could.

With a shaky breath, Macaque looks around, he needs to find the author of this monstrosity, and make them regret their actions.That’s when he looked up: there he was “Erlang Shen”, attacking his beloved home. 

Macaque was ready to jump at his throat, but Erlang summoned another round of his celestial spears, aiming what was left of the village. Rage clouded his mind, but before he could unleash his wrath, he got distracted by a noise: a small chirp ; barely audible even with his hearing.Then he saw: in the middle of the celestial aims, a cub, curled up in a ball, so small that Erlang mustn't have seen her. And if Macaque doesn’t do something, the spear will kill her. So, without thinking twice, Macaque jumps to protect the cub, not caring about getting hurt. Ignoring the throbbing pain coming from his shoulder, he look down at the cub, relieved to see they are unharmed.He turns his head toward the attacker, baring his teeth and glaring at him with eyes filled with rage.

Erlang high in the sky, stopped his attack upon noticing Macaque.He open his mouth and start talking to him:

 “Consider this a warning, do not even try to go against heaven ever again”.

 “What’s the meaning of this- this unjustified violence Erlang?!EXPLAIN YOURSELF!” 

Erlang, look down, no visible emotion on his face “ I have nothing against you, Six eared Macaque, I was only doing what I was ordered to do.”

“Ordered?? What, are we seen as a threat to receive this kind of destruction?? Does the stupid Journey mean nothing to you Celestials?!”

Erlang paused, then answered with a more serious look : “The heaven knows of your child. From what was seen when he’s in company of the pilgrims, he’s not a threat for Heaven” 

macaque: “... then why this horrible warning?”

 Erlang sighted; “ Li Jing was the one who ordered me to do it. Your kid may behave well now, but to ensure any of you don’t do anything against the celestial realm in the futur, he saw deems that a warning had to take place”

Macaque, whispering between his teeth “ what a load of crap..”

Erlang: “If this cub still behaves until the end of the journey, Heaven will officially leave him alone and not do anything to your little family. Now if you excuse me, I need to report back. Goodbye Six ears Macaque, and sorry.”

The celestials left as fast as he arrived. 

Macaque, still shocked by what happened, looked around him, still holding close the cub in his arm. So much was lost, not all monkeys managed to escape in time. The small cub, after being paralyzed by fear this whole time, starts to cry and sob uncontrollably, chirping for her parents. 

The shadow monkey, wanting to help this lost kid, asks her where the last place she saw them: with her small shaky paw, she points to the right. But when he looked in this direction, the only thing he could see was what used to be a house, devoured by flame. Using his enhanced hearing all around,his ears only met the sound of fire and things burning. There was no sign of life, everyone who’s alive was already far from here, and there is no way parents would leave without their cub.

 It could only mean one thing, and Macaque hates everything about it: the poor kid lost both her parents in this stupid attack from Heaven.

Macaque’s mind started to become hazy from the blood loss, but he had to check the house for the cub's parents, he wanted to believe they were somehow still alive. But it was too late, the house completely collapsed and it was only an inferno of flames now. 

His legs gave in, all hopes for possible survivors are now gone; the cub and his heartbeat are the only things he can hear right now. 

He doesn't know what to do, he is here, alone with the cub, doing his best to calm her down, surrounded by flames. Using his shadow power was not an option, he’s too unstable right now and it might put the kid in danger. 

His vision is slowly fading, and the only things he can see in the distance is… Xiaotian? What's he doing here? And is that… Wukong? Why are they both on the Mountain..? Shouldn’t they be on the journey..?

They both rush to his side in a panic:

 “BABA! OH GOD WHAT HAPPEN HERE–” MK shouted in panic, “YOU’RE HURT! AND VERY BADLY TOO!! Dad what do we do??”

 “Xiaotian.. don’t worry it’s okay-”

 “ MOON!” Wukong immediately crouches down to look at his face and injuries “WHO DARE DO THAT!? TELL ME AND I WILL KILL THEM-” he said with a voice filled with venom, ready to unleash his power to whoever did that.

“Sun.. please don’t.. it will only cause more problems… “Macaque said while caressing his lover face, “just please can you check if this cub’s parents are alive? she told me they were over there-” 

Wukong calms down and looks in said direction, using his golden vision to find who they are looking for. But as expected, no lifeforce could be detected. Macaque looked at Wukong, waiting for an answer, which Wukong gave by simply shaking his head.

 “...I see.” Macaque takes a deep breath, wincing from the pain “.. Why.. are you both here?”

MK answered with a shaky voice: “I- I felt that something happened to you. It was as if my shadow power was screaming to me to get to you. So that’s what I did” 

“What’s important is that we are here! But no more talking!” Wukong interrupts, lifting Macaque and laying him down on his nimbus, “We need to treat your injuries first! Let’s get to our house, it should be fine being behind the waterfall-” 

“Wait, what about the kid?! we can’t just leave her here!”MK ask.

“Of course we bring her too! Come on MK, I thought you were smarter than this” Wukong lightly chuckles “also she is firmly gripping Mihou, I doubt she will easily let go”

Macaque let out a weak laugh, relieved to have his family around him.

__________

Oof okay so I ended up writing more than I anticipated (also if there is any error please ignore them lmao) sdfdsf

BUT FINALLY!! THE MEIHUA LORE!!

Don’t worry Macaque recovered pretty quickly and Wukong and MK take good care of him during his recovery✨ I have brain more stuff for what happen next, but it will be in another post✨

Masterpost

[letssimptogether]

Slashers x Pregnant! Reader

✨ reader almost gets hurt by a victim/victim uses reader as leverage — requested by anon ✨

includes: Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Thomas Hewitt, Brahms Heelshire, and Poly! Ghostface

warnings: mentions or possible descriptions of (slight!) violence, cursing

a/n: i might use some manga as lil cover pictures when writing multiple slashers/idk what picture to use idk i think they’re cute teehee😅🤭 anyways, sorry for the wait—i hope you all enjoy! readers pronouns are gender neutral💜💜

💜Bo Sinclair

You just finished doing the dishes, when you heard a knock at the door. Unsure it was one of the boys, you scooted from your comfy couch spot and opened the door.

To your surprise, it was not one of the boys—and much to the unexpected visitor's surprise, someone opened the damned door.

“Please, you have to help me.” The man begged in front of you, big sloppy tears pouring from his eyes.

You paused and looked at the male in front of you before raising a brow. You knew what was up, but you never had to deal with the victims before, especially now that you’re over a month pregnant—Bo really doesn’t want you talking or handling them.

“They’re going to get me,” He choke and sobbed, “I need your help.”

Unsure of what to do, you stood there for a few seconds longer, thinking of what the safest option was, but also one that wouldn’t put the boys in danger.

Over the surprise visitor's shoulder, you could see Bo approaching, and he was just a few buildings away—while staring at Bo, and trying to decide your option, the visitor turned around to catch what you were looking at and met Bo’s now rage-filled demeanor.

Quickly, he shoved you to the floor, hopping over you; only stepping on your arm. The minute Bo reached you, he gently helped you up and cupped your cheek. He then pressed a small kiss to your nose and asked you to go to your guy’s shared bedroom.

You could hear each sloshing stabbing sound and the man’s blood-curdling screams almost all night before Bo accompanied you in bed.

🩷Vincent Sinclair

You happily made your way towards the Wax Museum, a plate of food in your hand for your beloved since you know Vincent most likely hasn’t eaten yet.

Once you got to the entrance of the museum, much to your startle, the door was already open. And to make matters worse, you hear two voices giggling.

You stood still beside the entrance, your free hand holding where your womb is, pausing to think of your best option for safety for you and the growing baby. Vincent must've known of their presence, so it's only a matter of time now. Once their whispering died down, you snuck inside the building, peeking around each corner and listening to make sure nobody could see or hear you. You turned a corner too quick in your need to get to Vincent, that you bumped your hip on a nearby table, almost causing you to drop your plate. "Shit," You silently muttered, panicking slightly from your slight bump. "What was that?" A man asked just faint enough for you to hear, causing your panic to rise more. "Maybe it's the dog from earlier?" A woman responded questioningly. As if on cue, Vincent sneaks around the corner and places a comforting hand on your shoulder, while also signaling you to shush before pointing in the direction of where the intruders. He quickly puts his hand over his mask's mouth, then presses it softly to where your baby bump's growing like a little kiss. And from there, he went to take care of the two.

💜Lester Sinclair

You were riding in the truck with Lester, as he went to run errands when a stranger waved you guys down alongside the road.

“Hey! Hi—sorry to bother you guys,” The stranger stumbled nervously, “Something happened and we really need to get to our friends, would one of us be able to catch a ride to the nearest town?”

You and Lester exchanged unsure glances, but Lester agreed nonetheless. You scooted to the middle seat closer Lester, giving him one last worried glance before patting the seat for the stranger.

The three of you rode in an uncomfortable silence, occasionally making some small talk about the small town of Ambrose, and how the two of you like it.

“Ain’t too bad,” Lester spoke up, “Pretty quiet. Everyone minds their own business for the most part.”

The strangers phone started to ring, and they quickly apologized and answered, stiffening in statue after what seemed 10 seconds. They nervously side eyed Lester and you a few times, while giving verbal acknowledgments over the phone.

“Excuse me—can you stop the car?” They asked, feigning a polite exterior, their jaw quivering and the right hand upon the door handle shook nervously.

“Mhm,” Lester slowed to a stop, but before the old beat up truck could even get to a halt, the stranger opened the door, and grabbed you, pulling the both of you out of the car, leaving only Lester in the drivers seat.

“Stay back, freak! Or—or else!” The stranger shoved you to the ground, then pointing a finger to Lester, to prove a point to him that they’re not above violence.

You tried to crawl away, but the stranger had other plans.

“Get back here, bitch,” The strangers focus was too engrossed into you, they didn’t notice Lester hop out of the truck, “I heard what you did to my friends!”

The stranger went to reach for you, but was stopped by Lester pulling them back and punching perpetrator in the throat.

“Hell is wrong with you hitting a pregnant person,” Lester’s punches did not ease up until the strangers face looked like a bloody pulp.

Once he finished, he walked over to where you stood yourself up, and pulled you in for a hug, and pressed a kiss to your forehead and knelt down to press a kiss to your tummy.

“Y’okay, sugar?” He grasped your hand, and walked you to the truck and helped you sit down comfortably.

🩷Thomas Hewitt

You and Luda sat in the kitchen knitting things for the baby that’s on the way.

“Y/N, would you be a dear and check on the pie?” Luda politely inquired.

“Of course!” You opened the oven to check, but the pie wasn’t fully done, so you reset the timer for about 5 minutes.

You took your seat back, and continued knitting your baby blanket. Luda stood up, and started cleaning the counters and washing the dishes used to make the cherry pie.

Faint scrambling and screaming could be heard coming from the basement, but you just turned on the small radio and continuing knitting zigzags into the blankets design.

Until someone managed to scramble their way to the first floor, scrambling through the living room, and then the kitchen.

“You two! Hey! You have to help me!” The man pleaded, “He’s trying to kill me down there!”

The man pointed down in the basement, and Luda looked at him unimpressed. She was sneaking her way to find something to hit the person with without being detected, but the man grabbed onto your hand and tried pulling you with him.

“Please! You have to listen to me; he’s going to kill me—then he’s going to kill you too!” He sobbed, ripping you from your chair at the small table.

“I—” You didn’t get a chance to respond or call for help before the man pulled you outside and down the wooden steps.

“Tommy!” You hear Luda Mae call out, “They’re trying to take Y/N!”

About two minutes later, Thomas ran through the door, his chainsaw rumbling with a seething rage. Within a minute, your captor was mowed down by Thomas, who then dropped the (now off) chainsaw, and spun you in the air with his embrace, pressing his forehead to yours.

That night, Thomas made you a warm bath and you enjoyed a cool cup of sweet tea while you got to munch on the pie you and Luda made from earlier.

💜Brahms Heelshire

It was a cool Sunday afternoon, and you were waiting for Malcolm to bring groceries to the house for you and Brahms—who was hiding upstairs, waiting for your okay to come out.

You sat in the living room, sipping on your favorite hot beverage while rereading a book you started, but haven’t finished.

Faint knocking could be heard from the front door, so you placed your book and drink down, and peeled through the door.

Malcom finally arrived; which means Brahms can come out soon!

“Afternoon, Malcolm!” You gave a small smile with your greeting, which dropped when you saw the man who delivers Brahms and your groceries arrived empty handed.

“Malcolm wh—” You were cut off by his quick ramblings.

“Y/N, you have to get out of here,” He quickly blurted out, “Brahms is alive; he-he’s been living in the walls!”

Mentally, you rolled your eyes. You knew this, obviously—he is your partner after all.

“What do you mean?” You faked concern, even though you had a feeling you knew how this would end.

The grocery boy would enter, prohibited to leave; his fate sealed past the front door.

“Brahms—I SAW him, Y/N.” He huffed, pacing in a nervous circle.

“I think you’re just seeing things, Malcolm. I live here, don’t you think I’d know if he’s here? Wouldn’t I have seen or heard him?” You retorted, raising an eyebrow, trying your best to gaslight him into leaving you and Brahms alone.

He grasped your hand, “If you refuse to believe it, I have no choice. We’re getting out of here and somewhere safe.”

Little did he know, Brahms was watching the whole interaction. And boy is he pissed.

He snuck out through one of the walls, and approached Malcolm from behind.

“Y/N,” He whined, walking towards where Malcom had a grip on your wrist, “Don’t go.”

“Get him Brahms!” You cried, ripping your arm away from Malcolm and backing away.

Brahms quickly gripped Malcolm’s neck, squeezing so hard his poor face turned a blueish purple from the lack of oxygen due to Brahms’ rage.

As soon as Malcom’s body felt limp, Brahms ran towards your slightly nervous form, nuzzling his masked face into your neck, whimpering softly while rubbing your belly.

🩷Poly! Ghostface

You laid sprawled out upon the bed that the three of you shared, watching nostalgic horror movies. Your phone wasn’t too far from your reach due to the boys needing a ride later.

As if on cue, said device started ringing with Stu’s ringtone.

“Hey, babe!” You perked up, “You need me to come scoop you guys up?”

“Mhm-ow!” The sound of slapping could be heard on your end, and Stu groaned over the phone.

“Hi cutie,” Billy snatched the phone from Stu, “Seems nobody’s here. Can you come get us now?”

“Absolutely!” You beamed before hanging up, running to your car, and starting it.

Once you got to the location they sent you, you pulled into the driveway, turned your lights off, and parked the car.

With few lights lit in the house, you could only make out one figure running around in the dark rather than two. Nonetheless, you brushed it off due to how dim the house was, and you turned your music back up, rubbing your hand over the slight bump.

The figure snuck out of the house, and knocked on the window of the car.

“Are you their ride, bitch?” She sneered, “I overheard those fuck-faces on the phone talking about a ride.”

You tried to lock the doors, which you left unlocked for the boys, but the assailant was faster to open the door. She tried to rip you out of the car as you covered yourself up for defense, both not realizing the seatbelt was on.

“Billy!” You screamed out, “Stu, help please!”

The stranger retracted their fist to hit you, but was pulled back by Billy’s grip, before he plunged a knife into her. She glared at you as she tried to hit Stu who blocked her path, gladly taking a turn stabbing her in the ribs.

They dropped her, and both huddled around you, pressing kisses to your forehead and cheek while their hands hold your baby bump.

[msbigredmachine]

The Boy Next Door: Chapter Five

MASTERLIST ✨ harmshake’s masterlist ✨ msbigredmachine’s masterlist

Word Count: 8.9k

TRIGGER WARNINGS: 18+, NSFW, language, angst, violence, smut

Poster made by me. Credit to the owners of the other pics and gifs.

A/N: So, as you all know, harmshake is on an extended hiatus from tumblr. This means I'll be handling the story henceforth. We were both able to draft and flesh out the chapters and storyline together, giving me an easier job of putting the finishing touches on each one and uploading them. I hope you've all enjoyed it, we both had a blast doing this together and hope you continue to support us and TBND!

Enjoy chapter 5! 😬

The glow of Ivy’s bedside lamp bathed golden light on her chocolate skin as she reclined against the pillows of her window seat, glass of port wine in hand, pepperoni pizza on a paper plate, her full lips curved into a teasing smile. 

Across the street, in her direct line of sight, Roman lounged in a leather seat by his open window, a small plate of buffalo wings within arm’s reach on the sill. The soft yellow light from his room reflected off his sharp features, highlighting the intensity in his gaze that made her pulse quicken as they watched each other from a pleasantly short distance.

“Dude, you’re lucky I like you,” she said, biting into her pizza. “I don’t usually share my date nights with someone who isn’t even in the same room with me.”

Roman’s deep laugh rumbled through the phone. “Oh, baby girl, you don’t just like me—you adore me. Own that shit.”

She rolled her eyes, her grin widening. “You’re awfully sure of yourself.”

“And you love that about me,” he countered smoothly, swirling his whiskey. 

She paused at his words, her heart skipping a beat. Love? It wasn’t the first time Roman’s confidence caught her off guard, but this? This was different. She tucked a stray curl behind her ear, the weight of the word lingering in the air between them.

“How’s Zaia doing?” he asked, as if sensing her thoughts, smartly steering the conversation away, but not before leaving Ivy with the faintest flutter of something unspoken.

“She’s doing better—just a cold, nothing too serious. She’s in her room sleeping, but she was miserable all day, poor thing. We’ve been stuck at home together today, but I don’t mind. She’s my baby. That’s what mamas do,” she said.

Roman’s voice softened, full of admiration. “I know you do your best with her. I see it every day. You’re an incredible mom, Ivy.”

She felt a flutter in her chest, his words hitting her deeper than she expected. There was something about the way he just…cared, even from afar. She took a sip of wine, savoring the smooth taste. “That's so sweet. Thank you, baby,” she answered with a warm mix of emotion and affection. “You seem to be making this whole long-distance date night thing work.”

Roman’s gaze never wavered from hers as he leaned back in his seat, his posture casual yet commanding. “I make it work because it means I get to see you. I’d do anything to make you happy.”

She felt the sincerity in his words, the weight of the connection between them growing stronger by the second. “And I’m lucky to have you around. I like being around you,” she said softly, her eyes locked on his.

A small, teasing smile played at the corner of Roman’s lips. “And I like you in my t-shirts. A lot,” he added, “You look better in them than I ever could.”

Her fingers instinctively brushed the oversized t-shirt she’d claimed during one of their late-night trysts. She leaned closer to the open window, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Glad you feel that way, cuz it’s mine now. You ain’t never gettin’ it back.”

His gaze darkened, and even through the phone, she could hear the change in his tone, low and suggestive. “You can keep it…as long as you tell me what you're wearin' under it.”

Her stomach tightened at the suggestive question, heat pooling low in her belly. She took a slow sip of her wine, her voice laced with playful mischief. 

“Nothing," she responded airily.

The silence that followed was charged, Roman’s sharp intake of breath echoing through the line. Eyes darkened, he leaned forwards, as though trying to close the distance between them. “Prove it,” he rasped, that baritone of his smooth, dangerous, and inviting all at once.

Ivy took a slow breath, the challenge of his words igniting something bold in her. With a sly smile, her fingers slid beneath the hem of the t-shirt, pulling it off completely. Her smooth, naked skin shone even brighter beneath the lights. 

Roman’s sharp exhale sent a thrill through her. “God, you’re exquisite,” he murmured, his voice thick with reverence and hunger. “So fucking beautiful, baby girl.”

His words made her heart race. She knew he was more than just attracted to her—he was captivated. And she was just as entranced by him.

“I wanna see more. Touch yourself for me, Ivy,” he commanded.

Her breath hitched, her pulse racing as he unraveled her carefully maintained composure. “Only if you do the same,” she challenged, her voice trembling with anticipation.

The faint rustle of fabric on his end sent a shiver down her spine. “I already am,” he confessed, his words molten heat. 

Sure enough, his dick was out of his shorts, legs spread far apart, his fist moving up and down the hardened length as he reclined in his chair. "Like what you see, baby?" he asked, his body heating up when she licked her lips. 

"Oh yeah. That's it, big boy. Stroke it for me," she encouraged him, her voice rough with need. “Fuck…I want that big beautiful dick in my mouth, baby," she murmured.

“Just your mouth?” Roman challenged, “Your turn. Show Daddy how wet you are."

Putting her phone on speaker and setting it in front of her, she spread her legs, giving him a full view of her goodies. She pushed her two middle fingers between her folds, gasping from the shock of the intrusion. "Unnnh, fuck," she thrust the fingers in and out of her, imagining it was Roman’s long, thick dick testing the stretch of her walls, and pulled them out, moaning as they came away glistening with her arousal.

“Jesus, Ivy, you’re drippin’…Put that shit in your mouth, baby.”

Completely turned on, she did as he ordered, hearing his groan over the phone as she slowly sucked her taste off her fingers before slipping them back inside her pussy, working them faster. Through the cloudy haze of pleasure, she caught the sweet sight of Roman’s large hand twisting faster around his large length, his lips parted, panting, the depths of his desire flooding her ears and flooding her pussy even more. 

"Shit, that's beautiful, baby girl. Keep fucking your pussy like that..." He watched her head tilt back, groaning along with her as he stroked himself with the same speed as her pumping fingers. The intimacy of the moment swallowed them whole, the distance between their windows evaporating as their breaths quickened in unison. 

Ivy let herself go, surrendering to the way he made her feel—desirable, fearless, alive. For once, she didn’t question the intensity of their connection or the way he effortlessly stripped her bare, emotionally and physically. She only knew she wanted more of this man, Roman Reigns. Probably forever.

Consequences be damned.

Gemini sat at her desk, the weight of the situation pressing down on her. She had never expected to be the one to deliver this news to Ivy. When Kofi—Angelo’s cousin—contacted her, she hesitated. She and Ivy hadn’t spoken in weeks and the idea of revisiting the painful subject of her friend’s baby daddy made her stomach churn. Yet here she was, sitting behind the polished wooden desk in her office, holding a letter from Kofi and a copy of the will that had been left behind after Angelo’s sudden death.

The door creaked open, and Ivy entered, her face drawn with exhaustion, still in her scrubs from her shift at the hospital. The tension in the air was thick, but Ivy’s eyes softened when they met Gemini’s, though she masked it quickly with a sharp, questioning look.

“You said it was urgent,” Ivy said, her voice guarded, her arms folded tightly across her chest.

Gemini gestured to the chair across from her. “Please sit.”

Ivy hesitated but lowered herself into the chair, her eyes flicking from Gemini to the papers on the desk. She looked like she was preparing for bad news, and Gemini couldn’t blame her. The last time they’d spoken, their argument had been raw and emotional, and the distance between them had only grown since.

“Angelo’s cousin Kofi…reached out to me,” Gemini began, her voice steady despite the knots in her stomach. “He wanted me to be the one to handle his affairs. Babe, Angelo had a will—and he left a few things behind. Things for you and Zaia.”

Ivy’s eyebrows furrowed as she leaned forward, curiosity mixed with wariness. “A will? I—” She shook her head, the disbelief evident in her expression. “I didn’t know he had anything left. After everything, I didn’t think he’d care.”

Gemini exhaled, her eyes dropping to the document in front of her. “I didn’t think so either. But there’s more here than I expected. It’s all in the will.”

She slid the papers across the desk. “He bought a house, Ivy. A house for you and Zaia. It’s fully paid for. There’s also a trust fund set up for Zaia—enough to cover her education, and a bit more for whatever else she’ll need. And a piece of local business—his cousin Kofi’s company, actually. It’s a stake in something stable. You’ll have a steady income from it.”

Ivy blinked, her lips parting slightly as she processed the information. “A house? He...he bought us a house?” Her voice cracked slightly as if the weight of the words was more than she could bear.

Gemini nodded, watching Ivy carefully. “He left you a ring too—something personal. Family heirloom, the documents say.”

Ivy’s eyes welled with unshed tears, but she refused to let them fall. She wasn’t going to cry in front of Gemini—not after everything. “I didn’t know…” Her voice trailed off, filled with confusion and a hint of anger. “Why didn’t he ever say anything? He never told me any of this!”

Gemini leaned back in her chair, her gaze hardening despite her sympathy. “I’m not sure why he didn’t tell you. Maybe he thought you’d be upset or maybe he just didn’t know how to say it. We both know he wasn’t the best at things like that.”

Ivy’s jaw tightened as she set the will back down on the desk, looking at Gemini with a mixture of frustration and sadness. “Yeah, that sounds like him,” she muttered, turning away to look out the window. “I never understood why he couldn’t just…Why everything had to be so damn complicated.”

Gemini swallowed, at a loss for words. A rarity. Ivy shook her head, the pain clear in her expression. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel about any of this.”

“I get it, babe. I really do. He was a pain, and I’m not going to pretend otherwise. But—” She caught herself just as she saw Ivy’s expression harden again, closing herself off.

“I don’t need you to tell me what to feel, Gem. You’ve done enough of that already,” she said, her tone more brittle than before. 

Gemini sighed, leaning forward, her own frustration bubbling to the surface. “Ivy—”

“I gotta go,” said Ivy. “Thanks for informing me. I’ll figure it out.”

Before Gemini could say anything more, Ivy had already stepped out, the door clicking shut behind her. She sat in stunned silence, staring at the empty room. She had wanted to say more, to reach her somehow, but the words felt trapped in her chest. The rift between them continued to germinate, and it seemed no matter how hard she tried,  Ivy was slipping further away.

Gemini leaned back in her chair, exhaling heavily in frustration, her fingers tapping rapidly on the desk. The silence in the room felt heavy with the unshakable tension between her and Ivy, the walls they had both built too high to break down easily.

Needing to clear her head, she decided to leave for her lunch break, grabbing her coat and turning off the lights. The moment she stepped outside the building, the air was cold, the late November weather biting at her skin. She wrapped her coat tighter around herself and began walking to her car, but a strange feeling tugged at her—a sense of being watched. She glanced over her shoulder quickly, but there was no one there.

The street was empty, save for a few passing cars.

Shrugging it off as paranoia, Gemini continued walking, but the feeling persisted. Every step she took felt heavier, more deliberate, as though something—or someone—was just behind her. She stopped at the intersection, glancing behind her again.

Nothing.

She shook her head and continued walking, but her unease only grew stronger, a cold shiver crawling down her spine. When she reached her Mercedes, she fumbled for her keys, quickly unlocking the door and sliding inside. The sense of being followed still gripped her chest, but when she checked the rearview mirror, there was no one there.

She exhaled sharply, gripping the wheel as she stared out the windshield. “I’m losing my shit. Just great,” she muttered to herself, starting the engine. 

But as she drove off into the night, the nagging feeling that she wasn’t alone never quite left her.

Roman leaned back in his leather armrest, the soft expensive material creaking under his weight, his eyes fixated on the darkened windows of Ivy’s house. The house he had once watched from the shadows, studying her every move. A fond, fruitful memory.

He remembered the first night he’d arrived in the neighborhood—the house still empty, the moving truck yet to arrive. The thrill of anonymity had been intoxicating. It had all felt too easy, too perfect, like a symphony waiting to be orchestrated. His house, still almost empty that first week, had been the perfect backdrop to his plans.

He first sighted her in her backyard with little Zaia, the girl running around with their dog, Duchess, all carefree in the evening sun. There was something about the way she doted on her daughter, something warm, almost maternal, that captivated him. And he knew from the start, from the very first moment he saw her, that he would make her his.

But it wasn’t just the motherly affection that drew him in. No, it was the way she carried herself, the subtle grace she exuded. She was beautiful. Perfect face and banging body, with curves her wrap dress woefully failed to hide. He could tell there was a strength beneath her calm exterior, a depth that no one could see unless they truly watched. And he had watched her. Night after night.

At first, it had been about learning her routine—how she left for work, when she came home, the time she spent with Zaia, and the occasional moments when she was home with Angelo. Those nights, when he’d stalk the house like a predator in the shadows, the soft flicker of her bedroom light barely visible. The arguments. The passionate reconciliations. The first time he watched them fuck, a jealousy unlike anything he’d ever felt had ripped through him. Animalistic, raw. It had enraged him, the way Angelo’s touch seemed to have ownership over Ivy, the way she would give herself to him.

Roman gripped the glass harder, his dick rising at the more pleasant memory of watching Ivy, all alone this time, sprawled across her bed as she pleased herself, her body writhing on her soft sheets. It was the night after they first met, and he’d wondered if it was him she was masturbating to. He’d imagined claiming her fully, not just with his eyes, but with his hands, his mouth, his dick, buried in her wet. That jealousy, that hunger for her, had grown, and when Angelo put hands on him, he took action. He was an easy target, as were the brake lines of that jalopy he drove…Roman had made sure there was no coming back from that. That punk bitch was gone, and Roman seized the moment and stepped in, comforting Ivy as she grieved, his presence a soothing balm to her wounds.

Now, she was all his. The fire they shared, the passion—it was everything. Roman had never known anything like it. Each time he lay beside her, the warmth of her body pressed against his…each time he was inside her…he felt…whole. He had won. He had her, and together, they would be the perfect family, the one he’d always dreamed of. Him, Ivy, and Zaia.

But there was yet another fucking thing that threatened to ruin it all: Gemini.

His blood boiled at the thought of her. Poking around, asking questions, getting too close to the truth. Her scathing words had echoed relentlessly in his head since the night of her party, each syllable sharper and more grating than the last:

“I see right through you. You’re not who you pretend you are. I can feel it. You’ve got Ivy and everybody else fooled, but I’m not buying it.”

The nerve of that bitch.

Roman’s jaw clenched as he replayed her smug expression, the way she had stood close, practically taunting him. She hadn’t flinched, hadn’t look away, like she knew she was poking a bear and relished the risk. Gemini wasn’t like the others—she was too observant, too bold. That made her dangerous. Too dangerous to keep around. She didn’t know who she was dealing with. Roman had dealt with people like her before, but this one was persistent. Too persistent.

His mind flashed to the moments when he’d seen her lingering near Ivy, always so observant. So fucking nosy. Well, no more.

She had to go. 

Roman leaned forward in his chair, his eyes narrowing. His plan was already in motion. It would be simple, like all the others. He would make her disappear too, and no one would find her.

He glanced over at the clock, the quiet ticking of time mocking him. Soon. As soon as he dealt with Gemini, everything would be perfect.

Roman’s lips curled into a satisfied smile. He had Ivy and Zaia now, and nothing and nobody would take that from him. Ever.

He stood, his fingers tapping against the window frame as he stared out into the darkness, knowing that soon, very soon, his family would be complete.

And that meddlesome bitch?

She was just another loose end. One he would tie up.

Probably literally.

The morning light filtered through the wide windows of his pristine kitchen island, glinting off his untouched cup of espresso. His focus, however, was entirely on the MacBook before him. Leaning forward, his eyes narrowed like a predator studying its quarry, watching the grainy surveillance footage play out on the laptop screen. 

Gemini moved about her bedroom, oblivious to the camera’s hidden gaze. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he traced her movements, his fingers idly tapping the screen. She thought she was the hunter, investigating him—but Roman always stayed one step ahead. 

Night after night, he would watch her scour through case files, searching through news reports, and any scrap of information to uncover his identity. Her determination was unlike anything he had encountered before, and it unnerved him in a way few things ever had. He needed to act before she finally found something and took it to Ivy—or worse, someone else. Like that lame ass five-0 she was fucking, Hayes. 

He had to hand it to her. Though he had perfected this dance over the years, she was different. Her confidence infuriated him, and some part of him wanted her to know, in her final moments, that she’d been right about him all along.

The smart TV on the kitchen wall murmured in the background, showing a clip of Montez, the distraught fiancé of Bianca Belair who was still missing, pleading for her safe return. Duchess was fast asleep in the conversation pit a few feet away. But it was the lazy clink of cutlery that had his attention. His gaze flicked to his girlfriend, who sat quietly across from him, her fork absently tracing circles through the barely eaten scrambled eggs on her plate. She had been distant for days, her mind clearly elsewhere. Something was weighing heavily on her.

“You’ve been quiet,” Roman said softly, his voice low, filled with a tenderness that Ivy had come to trust. “What’s going on, babe?”

Ivy hesitated, her stomach knotting the way it had for the last few days, since she’d learned of Angelo’s surprising bequest. The weight of it was heavy on her chest and she had kept it to herself until now, unsure of how to even begin processing everything. Roman had been a constant presence since Angelo’s death—strong, supportive, and patient—but this was something that still made her feel vulnerable. 

Roman shut his laptop and motioned her over. “Come here.”

She made her way over to him, allowing him to pull her onto his lap, his forearms winding protectively around her. His lips pressed against her shoulder. “Talk to me,” he whispered.

Ivy sighed heavily and bit the bullet. She’d been carrying this burden alone long enough. “Angelo…he wrote a will,” she began, her voice faltering as she struggled to find the right words. “He…he left things. A house, a trust fund for Zaia, some business stake—things I never thought he’d care enough to leave behind.”

Roman raised an eyebrow but didn’t interrupt, watching her closely. He knew that whatever Angelo had left wasn’t just about the material things. He could tell that it was something deeper—something Ivy was still trying to understand herself.

“I know what this is about,” he said quietly. “I know it’s not just about what he left. It’s about him—about everything he kept trying to do. Trying to come back into your life even when you told him no.”

Ivy let out a long, quiet breath, her gaze dropping to the counter. “He couldn’t just let it go, Ro. He couldn’t accept that we were done. That we been done for a long time.” Her voice faltered, but she quickly steadied herself. “He kept trying, always trying to force himself back in. And now…now, he’s gone, and he’s left me this…this mess.”

Roman’s gaze never left hers. “I know he wasn’t easy on you, and I know he made things complicated, even when you were doing your best to move forward.” He gently reached out, placing a hand on hers. “But I also know you loved him, at least in your own way. He was Zaia’s father. And now, with all this…stuff he left behind, I can’t imagine how hard it is for you to figure out how to feel about it.”

Ivy’s face was full of vulnerability. “He was a good father to his baby. He really was. I can’t take that away from him. But he kept trying to get back into my life. He was always coming around, always expecting me to give him another chance. And now—after he’s gone—I’m left with all this guilt. I don’t know if I’m supposed to be grateful or angry.”

Roman’s hand tightened around her waist, a reassuring squeeze. “You’re allowed to feel both, Ivy. You can be grateful for the good he did for Zaia, for the father he was, while also being pissed at the way he treated you. You don’t have to choose.”

Ivy swallowed hard, nodding as the weight of his words settled into her chest. “I just…I don’t understand why he didn’t do this sooner. If he really wanted to fix things, if he really wanted to show he cared, why didn’t he do it when I needed him to?” Her voice was a whisper now, as if the thought itself was too much to bear. “Why did he make everything harder for me?”

“Maybe he didn’t know how,” Roman mused. “A lot of people—especially people like Angelo—they don’t know how to express what they really feel until it’s too late. Maybe he didn’t realize it until the end. Maybe he didn’t know how to fix what was broken between you two.”

Ivy shook her head, wiping away a stray tear that had escaped. “But that’s just it, Roman. He never listened. He never saw me. He always just assumed what I wanted, what I needed. And now—now he’s gone. And I’m stuck with all this…uncertainty. I’m stuck with a little girl who won’t understand any of it. And I can’t even process any of this because of the way he kept pulling me back in.”

She had fought so hard to let go of the past, to move on from the chaos Angelo had brought into her life. It wasn’t fair that after all that struggle, this new development was now forcing her to confront everything she had tried to forget. She was trying to build a new future for herself, for Zaia…and possibly Roman…but this…this was a lot to carry.

“Hey,” Roman said gently, squeezing her hand, “Baby, I know you’re angry, and I know you’re hurt. But you’re not alone in this. You’ve got me. You don’t gotta carry all this by yourself. We’ll figure it out together, one step at a time.”

Ivy let out a long breath, her chest rising and falling. She felt exhausted, like the weight of everything had finally caught up with her. But hearing Roman’s words, feeling the warmth of his hand on hers, she knew she wasn’t alone anymore. Maybe she couldn’t control everything—maybe she couldn’t change what Angelo had done—but she could still move forward. She had a choice. And she had Roman.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly as she leaned into him. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Roman smiled softly, caressing her face. “You’ll never have to find out. I’m here, Ivy. I’m here, no matter what.”

Ivy met his gaze, the conflict in her heart still there, but the steady, grounding presence of Roman gave her something she hadn’t had in a long time: a sense of peace. She didn’t have to have all the answers. Not yet. But with him by her side, perhaps she could start to heal.

Roman’s hands gripped the steering wheel, a million thoughts plaguing his mind as he navigated his Range Rover down the suburban streets enroute to Zaia’s elementary school. The sunlight streamed through the windshield, bouncing off his dark Ray-ban Aviators and giving his already cold demeanor an eerie, impersonal sheen. Ivy sat beside him, chattering away, little Zaia in the backseat singing along to the music, some song from Gracie’s Corner, blaring from her iPad. Roman had tuned them both out completely, their cheerful voices nothing but background noise to the storm that had been raging in his mind since Ivy dropped that bombshell on him.

Damn you, Angelo!

He was seething. That fucking bastard’s will felt like a final act of sabotage, the ghost of the past reaching out from beyond the grave to pull Ivy back into a world of chaos he’d worked so hard to shield her from. 

But he wasn’t just angry at Angelo. No. 

He was furious with Gemini for delivering the news. For helping tear open old wounds Ivy had spent years trying to heal from, all in the name of business. A burning rage surged through him. Like Angelo, Gemini had become another anchor Ivy couldn’t free herself from. Another reason for Roman to despise that bitch.

A sudden burst of repetitive, high-pitched music jolted him from his thoughts. Zaia had restarted the same insipid song she’d been playing since they got in the car, the tinny melody grating against his nerves like nails on a chalkboard. Roman’s fingers tightened on the wheel, a muscle twitching in his jaw. The sound seemed to fill every inch of the vehicle, piercing through the thin layer of control he’d been holding onto.

Zaia continued to sing her little heart out as the cheerful tune played on. It was relentless, drilling into Roman’s skull. He exhaled sharply, forcing himself to keep his composure. He glanced in the rearview mirror, catching her innocent, happy expression, one he usually appreciated but now he just couldn’t stand the sight of.

“Little lady,” he began, his voice carefully even, though the tension brewing in him laced every syllable, “you don’t got any other songs?”

Zaia beamed at him. “But it’s my favorite! Don’t you like it?”

He hated it. The tune quickly became a nightmarish loop, and for the first time in hours, his thoughts of Gemini faded—not from guilt or doubt, but from sheer, unrelenting irritation. The song pounded on, and Roman’s fingers tightened on the wheel, his knuckles stretching unnaturally against the black leather.

On the third replay, he snapped.

“Man, turn that shit off!” His voice was a whip, sudden, loud, and vicious.

The car fell into a stunned silence. Zaia’s lip quivered, her breathing pattern changing, quickening, before she burst into tears. 

“Roman!” Ivy exclaimed.

“What I do? I just told her to change the song!”

“I want my daddy!” Zaia wailed.

“That’s too damn bad,” Roman shot back coldly, his deep voice dripping venom as he twisted his head to glare at her. “You ain’t never gon’ see that piece of shit no more cuz he’s dead!”

Ivy’s heart stopped. She turned in her seat, gaping at him in complete shock. “Roman! What the hell is your problem?”

Chastened, he opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off, absolutely livid. “Stop the car. Now.”

“Ivy, I—”

“Stop the damn car!”

Roman exhaled heavily, muttering under his breath as he pulled the SUV to the side of the road. Ivy didn’t wait for the car to come to a full stop before she threw the door open. Her legs were shaky, but her fury propelled her forward. She yanked open the back door, gathered Zaia and her backpack, and marched down the street toward the school building. At the entrance, she set Zaia back down on her feet, but the little girl refused to let go of her, clinging to her neck like a lifeline.

The sight of her daughter’s distress pierced something deep within her soul. Kneeling down, she held her tightly, letting her hold on to her for as long as she needed, even as the school’s morning bell rang around the building, signaling the start of the day.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Ivy murmured softly, her voice laced with guilt. She rubbed Zaia’s back in slow, soothing circles. “Please don’t cry, my snuggle bug.”

Zaia hiccupped through her sobs, her voice trembling and barely audible. “I don’t want Roman to be mad at me, Mama.”

The innocent remark hit Ivy like a punch to the chest, momentarily stealing her breath. It dawned on her that her little girl had grown attached to the big man. She struggled to find the right words to reassure her. “He’s not mad, sweetheart. He’s just…had a tough morning.”

Zaia’s sniffles grew louder, her fresh tears spilling over. She clung to Ivy tightly, her small fingers gripping almost desperately at her mother’s scrubs.

“I miss my daddy,” the little girl whimpered, her words a fragile echo of her broken heart.

“I know, sweetie. I know,” Ivy replied, her voice wavering as she fought back her own tears. She gently cupped Zaia’s face and wiped away the wet streaks with her thumbs. “It’s okay to miss him. But guess what? He’s watching over you in Heaven. He'll always be in your heart, okay?”

But even as she tried to console her daughter, Ivy’s mind raced. Zaia’s distress gnawed at her. How could she send her baby into school like this? Would it even be fair to ask her to focus, to pretend everything was fine when it so clearly wasn’t? The uncertainty weighed heavily on Ivy’s shoulders, even as she pulled Zaia into another hug, pressing a soft kiss to her curls. 

“Little lady?”

At the sound of his voice, Ivy glared up at Roman’s approaching figure, his face a mix of remorse and something she couldn’t quite name. She tensed, shielding her baby girl with her body. “What do you want?”

“I just…I want to apologize,” he said, his expression soft and remorseful. “Ivy, please. I was wrong. Let me make up for it.”

Ivy studied him warily before giving a reluctant nod. “Fine. But you’d better mean it.”

She didn’t take her eyes off Roman as he crouched down to Zaia’s level, his chiseled face drawn with regret. “Hey, little lady,” he said gently, his voice soft, almost tender. “I am so sorry for yelling at you. I didn’t mean to, but I was wrong to do that. Can you forgive me? I’ll never do it again, I promise.”

Rubbing her nose, Zaia looked to Ivy for approval, and Ivy, despite her better judgment, gave the go ahead with a short nod. 

“Okay. I forgive you,” Zaia answered, her smile small and watery.

Roman smiled back, his features awash with relief as he hugged her tight. “Thank you, Zaia.” He tapped her little nose playfully. “Tell you what, how about we get some ice cream after school? Just you, me, and Mommy. Wherever you want, and whatever flavors you want. That sound good?”

It was a winning bargain, as Zaia instantly brightened and she nodded eagerly, throwing her arms around his neck in another big, warm hug. Waving goodbye to the two adults, she spun around and zoomed off through the doors of the school. Roman smiled at her retreating figure, but when he turned back to her mom, the look in his eyes was more pleading than apologetic.

Ignoring him, Ivy kept her distance all the way back to the car. The moment the doors were shut, she exploded.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Roman? She’s a child!” she yelled.

Roman’s jaw ticked. He rubbed his face and exhaled a shaky breath. “You…you wouldn’t understand.”

“What’s there to understand? You fucking yelled at my daughter! You think I’m gonna let that slide?” she snapped, her anger barely contained. “Gemini warned me about this. To think I keep defending your ass, only for her to be right. This is how you really are!”

“No it’s not, I swear!”

“Then tell me what’s wrong! You've been acting up all week! Something is up with you and I wanna know what it is! And don’t lie to me!”

He hesitated, then dropped his gaze. “Okay then. Here’s the truth.” He swallowed hard. “Today…marks a year since…since Elesha died.”

Ivy blinked, her fury momentarily giving way to surprise. She hadn’t expected that. Her scowl softened, though her wariness persisted. “I’m sorry, Roman. I can’t imagine how hard that must be. But that don’t mean you get to take it out on Zaia or be an asshole to me. If being with me, being with us, is triggering you, just say so. If it’s too much—”

“It’s not too much,” he said quickly, his voice breaking. “Ivy, I swear to you, it’s not. Don’t ever blame yourself for my fuckup. I’m just…I’ve been trying, really trying, to process it all.” He looked at her, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. “Everything’s happened so fast. Losing her, moving here and meeting you…My feelings for you are so strong, and it scares the shit outta me cuz I don’t wanna lose you too.”

His vulnerability struck her like a tidal wave, raw and unguarded in a way that left her breathless. Roman looked shattered, the weight of his emotions carved into every line of his beautiful face. She hesitated, her own walls trembling, before gently resting her hand against his cheek. Her voice, barely more than a whisper, trembled with conviction.  

“Babe, you’re not gonna lose me. I only just found you,” she said. “I told you before. I’m here for you Roman, just like you are for me. I just need you to stop bottling things up and talk to me.”

A fragile, watery smile curved his lips, but it couldn’t mask the storm raging in his eyes. He leaned into her touch, his forehead resting against hers as though she was the only anchor he had left. For one brief, stolen moment, the chaos around them stilled.  

“I don’t deserve you,” he rasped, his voice thick with anguish. “I don’t know how to be without you. You’ve made my life worth something again—you and Zaia. I’m so sorry I snapped at her…Please, Ivy. I know I messed up…Don’t leave me. I need you.”  

Her chest constricted, the ache in his voice cutting through her like glass. The desperation in his gaze was a dagger, and despite every reason to walk away, she couldn’t. Because whatever doubts had begun to creep into the edges of her mind paled in comparison to what she was starting to feel for him. She was painfully aware of how hard, how undeniably she had fallen for him too, and it was in equal parts terrifying and exhilarating.  

Her fingers traced his jaw, her own tears threatening to spill. “I accept your apology,” she whispered, moved enough by the emotions pulsing between them to seal her words with a gentle kiss that tasted of unspoken vows and quiet redemption. “And I’m not going anywhere,” she murmured, kissing his forehead as well, her voice steady even as her heart thundered, even as the doubt lingered. “I promise.” 

“You sure you don’t want me to come over? I can leave this function that I’m at. We can just kick it for a lil’ bit.”

Gemini smiled into the phone, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger. “Thanks, Melo, but I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“So you don’t wanna see me? Damn, ma,” Carmelo sighed, the smooth baritone of his voice sending a delicious shiver down her spine. She knew he meant well, but the last thing she wanted was for him to worry about her more than he already did.

“Of course I wanna see you. I always do,” she insisted, her voice gentle and assured. “I just don’t want you feeling like you have to drop everything for me.”

“I know I don’t have to,” he replied, his tone laced with a quiet insistence. “But I want to. That’s different.”

She bit her lip, her gaze drifting to the window. The evening’s shadows stretched across her home, her reflection faint against the glass. His words warmed her, tugging at something she didn’t want to admit she’d missed—feeling cared for, wanted...a lover’s touch.

“I appreciate it,” she said softly, letting her guard down just a little. “But I promise, tonight is just about me catching up on work. Nothing to stress over.”

Carmelo was silent for a moment, and she could almost picture the wheels turning in his head. “A’ight,” he said finally, though the hesitation in his voice lingered. “But if anything changes—if you need me, or if you just feel like some company—holla at me and I’ll be right over. No questions asked.”

Gemini couldn’t help but smile again. He always knew how to walk that fine line between protective and overbearing, never crossing it, even when she pushed him away. “I’ll hold you to that,” she teased lightly. “But seriously, don’t let me mess up your evening. Have fun.”

“You know my nights ain’t the same without you, right?” His voice was teasing, but she could hear the undercurrent of truth in it. Her stomach fluttered, making her shy in a way only he could. 

“You’re smooth as fuck, you know that?” she giggled.

“Nah, I’m just honest. That’s why you like me so much. But I’ll let you get back to it—for now.” There was a smile in his voice now, and it made her chest ache in the best way.

“Goodnight, Officer Hayes,” she whispered.

“Goodnight, Miss Beaufort, Esquire. Don’t work too hard now, okay?”

She nodded, even though he couldn’t see it. “I’ll try.” And as the call ended, she found herself staring at her phone, wondering just how much longer she could keep her guard up around someone who made her feel so safe, so…loved.

Sighing heavily, she refocused on the legal briefs and deposition notes scattered across her table. The phone call was a distraction, a brief escape from the mind-numbing class action case she was working on, but boredom gave way to curiosity as a notification popped up in her email, the logo of the dark website she frequented glowing on her laptop screen.

Her gaze was locked on the unopened documents. Tagged Psycho Hottie: The Coral Lake Butcher, the post drew her in with its absurd title. She clicked out of boredom, expecting yet another bizarre story or twisted fantasy from the forum’s strange array of users. Instead, she was staring into the face of someone she knew.

Roman.

There was no mistaking the sharp cheekbones, the slanted eyes, the smirk that always hovered at the edge of his lips. It was him—or at least it looked exactly like him.

Her stomach knotted as she clicked on the article accompanying the sketch. Published two months ago, the headline was simple but chilling:

Her eyes flicked down to the grainy mugshot embedded in the article, and her breath caught in her throat. It was Roman, no question about it. Shorter hair, but the same dark intensity in his eyes, the same chiseled, angular face. But the name was different. Roman Reigns was what Ivy called him. Mateo Hobbs was what the Floridian police called him.

The text beneath the mugshot only worsened her unease.

It has been nearly a year since Mateo Hobbs escaped police custody following his arrest for the brutal murders of his wife, Elesha Hobbs, and her alleged boyfriend, Tama Tonga. At the time of her death, Elesha was four months pregnant.

Witnesses reported seeing Hobbs flee from the Pensacola police precinct three days after his arraignment. He was awaiting formal charges when he disappeared.

Since his escape, Hobbs has been linked to a string of homicides along the Florida coast, with most victims being female sex workers in their twenties and early thirties.

Her blood cold, Gemini scrolled down, and her heart nearly stopped when she saw the photograph of his wife.

Fuck.

She looked just like Ivy.

The resemblance was uncanny—same smooth, deep brown skin, same pretty almond-shaped eyes, same slim thick figure. Roman had a type, it seemed, and Ivy fit it perfectly.

The article went on to describe his other possible victims. Young, beautiful women in their twenties or thirties. Throats slit. The pattern was clear, and Gemini’s mind immediately flashed to Rhea and Bianca.

Rhea, a pregnant woman. Her throat, brutally cut, several weeks ago. Another woman, Bianca, had disappeared shortly after. Probably dead, too. Both of them, as the Hartford Police discovered, were sex workers outside their day jobs, with Rhea an OnlyFans model and Bianca an escort. One woman from Middlesex and another from Fairfax, two towns en route to Hartford, died the exact same way Rhea did a couple of months ago. This felt like the markings of a serial killer, and Gemini had little doubt that Roman—no, Mateo—was responsible.

And then there was Angelo.

Gemini’s hand flew to her mouth as it hit her like a ton of bricks. Angelo had died in a car crash not long after Roman came into the picture. Everyone had assumed it was a tragic accident, but now Gemini could see the truth, almost clear as day. Roman had probably followed Angelo to that bar. Tampered with the brakes that had mysteriously failed.

Roman killed him.

She felt a wave of nausea but pushed it down, forcing herself to focus.

The article ended with a warning:

“Hobbs is considered armed and extremely dangerous. If sighted, do not approach. Contact law enforcement immediately on these numbers...”

But Gemini didn’t have time for law enforcement. Ivy didn’t have time for law enforcement.

Her hands moved on autopilot as she clicked “Print,” the printer spitting out page after page of damning evidence. She grabbed the stack and stuffed it into her bag, her thoughts racing.

“You’re always looking for problems where there aren’t any! Roman’s been nothing but good to me. Just because you don’t trust anyone doesn’t mean I should be the same!”

She and Ivy had barely spoken in weeks, but Gemini didn’t care. Her best friend’s life was on the line. She shoved her phone into her bag and bolted for the door. She had to get to Ivy. Immediately. 

Her mind was a chaotic mix of fear and determination. Would Ivy even listen? Or would she laugh off Gemini’s warning again?

It didn’t matter.

She wasn’t going to let Ivy end up like Roman’s wife, like Rhea, like Bianca, all those other women. And she wasn’t going to let Zaia grow up without a mother. Not when she no longer had a father, probably thanks to him.

She’d been suspicious about that monster ever since he stepped foot in Ivy’s house that night, sensing something off about his charm, his intensity, the way he inserted himself so seamlessly into Ivy’s life. And now she knew why.

She had to stop him.

The night air was cold as she stepped out of her house and rushed to her Mercedes. The air outside was eerily quiet. Too quiet. It was then she realized how empty her street was. No, it was more than empty - it was deserted. Worse, she felt like she was being watched even though nobody else seemed to be around. The stillness was oppressive. Not just silence, but wrong silence—the kind that seemed to buzz in her ears like a phantom noise, amplifying every beat of her heart.

And yet…something deep in her gut told her yet again that she wasn’t completely alone.

Gemini glanced down the street again, her unease mounting with every passing second. The dim, flickering streetlights cast jagged shadows that seemed to stretch and reach for her. Uncharacteristically spooked, she started to open her car door.

She froze, her mouth slowly falling open in horror.

Roman stood across the street, mere meters from her home, a black hoodie over his head. He wasn’t moving, but the intensity of his stare felt like a physical force, pinning her to the spot. Gemini’s breath hitched, her body going completely numb with terror. She tried to scream, but no sound came. Her throat was void, and terror was the only thing filling it. 

Fuck, the word tumbled through her mind, frantic and desperate, Fuck, fuck, fuck!

She squeezed her eyes shut, praying to God that she would open her eyes and it would be nothing more than a hallucination. Maybe it was a trick of the dim light. Maybe she’d open her eyes and find the street as empty as it had been moments ago. 

But when she dared to look again, Roman was moving. Striding towards her with deliberate, predatory determination.

At this, Gemini’s paralysis finally snapped. Her brain finally gave her legs permission to move, and she spun on her heel and bolted, her feet pounding against the pavement as she raced for her front door. Her bag bounced wildly against her side, her breath bursting in shallow, ragged gasps.

The edge of the pathway betrayed her. Her toe caught in the stone step, and she tumbled forward, crashing hard to the ground. A sharp burst of pain flared through her knee and palms as they scraped painfully against the concrete, but adrenaline surged through her veins, propelling her back to her feet.

Her house loomed ahead, so close, but yet so far. She fumbled with her bag, her injured fingers trembling as she rifled through it for her keys.

But Roman was fast. Quarterback fast. In an instant, he was behind her, his body slamming into hers and pinning her against the door with his entire two hundred plus pound frame. Her cheek pressed against the cold wood, causing a strangled cry to escape her lips.

“Where ya goin’, huh?” His voice was deep, terrifying, and far too close to her ear. His breath was hot against her skin. “You think you can run from me, bitch?”

Terror clawed at her throat, but through the fog of panic, she remembered - the can of Mace buried in her bag that Melo gave to her. Forcing herself to concentrate, Gemini discreetly dug her hand into her bag, feeling for the small, cylindrical lifeline.

Roman grabbed her by the hair and yanked her head back, forcing her to meet his wild, hate-filled glare. Pain shot through her scalp and tears sprang to her eyes, but she didn’t let go of the Mace.

With a burst of defiance and a quick twist of her arm, she whipped the can up and aimed. A sharp hiss filled the air as the spray found his mark. 

“Arrrrgh!” Roman cried out in pain, clutching his face as he stumbled back. His curses rang in Gemini’s ears, but she didn’t waste a second. The keys were in her hand now, and she jammed them into the lock with shaking fingers. The door gave way at last, but just as she made to slam it shut behind her, Roman charged, tackling her to the ground in a vicious spear that almost broke her body in two. The impact knocked the wind out of her lungs, the back of her head hitting the hard floor, and she was sure she was concussed. Roman pounced, straddling her waist, pressing one hand against her throat as he held her down. His face, usually handsome and composed, was like something out of a horror film, his eyes wild and filled with hatred and madness. 

There he is…I knew it…

Grabbing Gemini by the hair, Roman stumbled to his feet and dragged her past the foyer, her desperate cries swallowed by the echoing silence of the house. Her nails clawed at his sleeved arms, her legs kicking wildly, the polished floor chafing uncomfortably against her skin. Her struggles were futile—Roman was too strong, his grip vice-like and unyielding. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the blinking red lights that should have been on the overhead cameras were gone. Disabled. By him, surely. He’d been in her house before, probably scouted her out in preparation for this day. Her heart sank as it dawned on her that no one would witness her futile fight for her life. 

As they reached the kitchen, Roman lifted her bodily off her feet, throwing her against the counter. Gemini hit the table spine-first, sending her crashing painfully to the ground.

“You just can’t leave shit alone, can you?” Roman snarled, his breath coming out in short bursts, his rage barely contained, “Always sticking your fucking nose where it don’t belong!”

Gemini gasped through her tears, scrambling to get away, but Roman easily caught up to her retreating form.

“I’m so fuckin’ sick of your shit,” he snarled, his voice venomous and trembling with fury as he stomped on her right leg with brute force. 

The crack of her bone echoed sickeningly all around the kitchen. Gemini screamed, the sound animalistic and blood-curdling, but it barely registered in the lifeless air. Pain surged through her body like wildfire, reducing her fight to pitiful spasms.

Roman’s handsome face twisted in a grotesque mask of a set and satisfaction. Slipping on a pair of black gloves, he crouched down beside her, tilting his head as though appraising a broken toy.

“Not so mouthy now, huh, bitch,” he taunted.

“P-Please…please don’t do this, Roman,” Gemini sobbed, clutching at her shattered leg. 

“Learn to shut the fuck up for once in your goddamn life,” he growled, his voice low and terrifying as he pulled out a knife from his pocket.

The blade flashed in the dim light, and before Gemini could process the motion, the cold steel sliced across her throat. Her scream died a gruesome death, a wet, choking gasp accompanying the blood pouring from the gaping wound. She tried to speak, to beg for what was left of her life, but all that came out was a pathetic, gargled noise.

Roman was on a roll, his chest heaving as he paced in circles around her twitching body.

“Stay the fuck outta my business, you nosy bitch! Ivy is mine!” he roared, pointing at himself. “She belongs to me! Ain’t nobody gon’ take her from me, not even you, you understand me, you-”

Lifting his right leg off the ground, he slammed it back down, a brutal stomp of his foot to her face following each word.

“Worthless!” Stomp.

“Fucking!” Stomp. 

“Bitch!” 

The awful sound of bone crunching filled the room. When he moved his foot, he saw that Gemini had gone stock-still. Her face was unrecognizable, her blood spreading in dark rivulets across the vinyl plank flooring.

Roman stood over her, his fists clenched and trembling as the red fog of rage cleared from his brain. The silence in the kitchen was deathly, deafening, broken only by his labored breathing. He looked down at the mangled, lifeless corpse, his nose wrinkling in disgust at the mess of bone, flesh and blood pooled around his feet, staining his black Air Forces.

“Goddamn it,” he sucked his teeth, wiping a hand in frustration across his sweaty forehead.

It wasn't supposed to go like this. Gemini was supposed to stay out of it, to leave him and Ivy alone. But her dumbass couldn’t. And now, he had another body to clean up.

But it was worth it, because no one would interfere with their love anymore. 

Ivy was all his now. Forever. Just like she promised him.

And he planned on holding her to that promise.

😬😬😬

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[prettynpinkputhy]

Taste of sin 🍎

Warning MDNI⚠️: Sexual themes, language, violence, bondage , angst etc

Synopsis: mc reunites with Caleb but something feels…off.

Like, comment, share for more lads content✨

Want a part 2? comment below⬇️

w.c: 2.k

Your breath hitches, mouth gaping with shock as a ghost stands before you. Caleb. The same Caleb who’d walk you to school and fight off bullies. The same one who wiped your tears and bandaged your wounds because you were too clumsy. The same eyes, hair, and smell. But something was different. He’s changed. His stare was glazed over, as if looking through you. His past friendly smile now a cold grimace.

What happened to him? You think, wrist burning from fighting against the cuffs locked securely around them.

The legs of your seat scratch the wooden floor beneath you. “Caleb?! You’re alive!” You cry wanting nothing more than to burst free and wrap him in a hug so tight he’d bruise. Could this mean grandma was alive too? Did he save her? Your mind races with endless scenarios of them both being safe and sound. He slithers around you like a serpent, scanning your every breath and movement.

The cool leather of his gloved hand brushes your neck ever so slightly. “So you haven’t forgotten me.”

“No, no never. I thought you were gone…”

He cuts you off. “And you didn’t even see for yourself. You blindly took the word of your precious Hunter association.” He says the words as if they’re rancid.

Your eyes plead with him, thoughts racing with conspiracies. “Why wouldn’t I? I saw the team pull your body from the rubble.”

“Tch. Now that can’t be true considering I’m standing right here in front of you. Tell me, did you help them plan this? Cooperate and you won’t be harmed.” You feel a cool mechanical item press behind your ear. A faint shock zaps your sensitive flesh just enough to make you hiss.

“Caleb,That hurts!” you pant.

He pulls the device away, walking around to face you once more. Using his evol he yanks a chair forward before sitting down directly in front of your knees. You can see it now, the black weapon that delivered the shock. His slender fingers run along the length of it, your chest rises and falls.

“Talk or I’ll up the voltage. Are you working for them?”

Your eyes dart wildly from your restrained state to your childhood companion who’s supposed to be dead. “I am a hunter. Of course I work for them Caleb! You know that.” He pushes the head of the rod to your thigh. “Last chance.” You shake your head, lip quivering. His brows raise and he nods to himself before pressing the button, this time it’s far worse. Your thigh tenses as pure electricity is delivered into your bare leg. You chose the Worst possible day to wear a skirt.

A scream of pain rips from your throat. Your head hangs with exhaustion, sweat sliding down the nape of your neck. Your thighs tremble with aftershock. He growls and shoots to his feet, his evol loses control for a moment and sends the chair flying into the wall. His gloved hand grips your jaw harshly, yanking your eyes to him. “How could you betray me, y/n! Do you have any idea what they did to me?! Cut and pried me open like a fucking lab rat!” Tears well in your eyes, your brows scrunching in confusion and sympathy. Someone hurt Caleb. Why would they do that?

“W-who hurt you?” You manage to whimper despite his hold on your jaw. His eyes widen, a flicker of vulnerability peeking through before it quickly clouds back over.

“You know who. They wanted to harvest my Evol and you helped them. Lured me back into that house. Abducting me Is one thing but…Josephine? She practically raised us! How could you do that?” He throws your face to the side with disgust.

“You think I started that explosion?! I was right beside you Caleb!” You sob, unable to believe these accusations.

He whirls around to face you, hand rubbing his chin. “You may not have lit the flame but you stood with them And watched us burn.” His clenched fist shakes. You thrash around. This wasn’t Caleb. It couldn’t be. You have to escape and get away from this imposter before he kills you.

“Trying to run?” He flicks his finger down and an invisible crushing weight forces your feet to the ground. “Looks like this kitty needs a bell.” He saunters over to a place out of your line of vision. When he comes back into frame he’s carrying something bionic and circular. Is that…a collar?

“Don’t do this Caleb! It’s me. y/n. Pipsqueak, remember?” You desperately try to get through to him. He doesn’t budge. His gaze cold as he bends down to buckle the collar tightly around your neck. A red light beams from it. A detonator maybe? Every swallow caused it to squeeze and choke you.

“No. You died with Josephine in that fire. The girl I knew…she’s gone. Replaced with a greedy monster. How much did they pay you, huh? Was it worth the price of our lives?” His hand clamps down on your shoulder, his hot breath fanning your ear. “Did you even miss me?”

You whimper.

“Shh no crying. This is supposed to be a happy reunion.” His hot slick tongue snakes out to lap away a stray tear falling down your cheek. “tastes like sin.”

You tremble under his touch, your words trapped by the collar around your neck. “My very own Eve…tempted by the apple and tainted by blood.” His whispers, the invisible force parts your knees suddenly. His leather clad finger brushes down the length of your body till settling at the hem of your skirt. You wiggle, breath coming in cropped pants. This wasn’t your Caleb. It was impossible.

“Caleb, I swear I’d never betray you. Let’s figure this out together. We’ll take down the people that hurt you.” The muscles in your legs stretch from the force of his evol keeping them pried apart.

His laugh is devoid of humor. ” Why would I trust you?”

“What can I do to show you?” Your eyes blaze up at him with conviction.

“Would you be willing to prove your loyalty?” He breathes, kissing the crown of your ear. The room is chilly, goosebumps raise on your skin. The only thing keeping you warm is the closeness of his solid uniform clad body. His badges prick the skin of your back as he presses against you. Were those honorable or had he done something horrific to achieve them.

Your brows bunch in confusion. “Prove it, how?”

“Surrender yourself to me.” That mischievous finger slips under the cover of your skirt and rubs circles along your inner thigh. “I’ll only touch you…if you want me too.”

Perhaps your head was fuzzy from lack of oxygen but you did want that…very badly.

“I-I want you too.” You pant.

He inches closer to your heat. “What a naughty girl…begging to be punished for her betrayal.” The tip of his finger rubs the damp crotch of your panties. Your back arches in the chair, bound hands struggling to no avail. You were trapped and at his mercy. He presses hot open mouth kisses down your neck and shoulder as he explores you. Without warning he tugs your panties to the side and pushes your aching button. You cry out and try to force your legs shut—his evol works against you leaving you spread wide for him.

There was nothing to be done. All you can do is take it.

“Now that you’ve fallen into my trap…there is no escaping my little prey.” His long finger traces the split folds of your cunt, rubbing your arousal around your slick throbbing bud of nerves. Your cheeks are flush and breathing labored. He rubs in fast tight circles, your hips buck against the wooden seat. Small whines fall from your lips as he teases your most sensitive area. Just as you feel that familiar pressure build up, he pulls away. You don’t see it but you hear a popping noise as he sucks your nectar clean.

“So responsive. Let’s do an experiment and see if it’s the same in other places.” You’re still reeling from his assault on your clit when his strong veiny hands grip the collar of your shirt and rips it open. Buttons fly all over the space from the aggressive act. The air hits your warm bare breast. It wasn’t like you not to wear a bra but unfortunately you hadn’t had time for laundry due to an overflow of wanderer incidents. “What a nice surprise.” He groans, cupping your chest with both hands and kneading the plush flesh. Your nipples are hard against his palms, the feeling makes his cock pulse inside his black pressed pants.

He drops them, admiring how they move. He walks around and kneels on the floor adjacent to you. You’re a mess, flushed, legs wide open, clothes ripped and restrained. truly a vision to behold. His rough calloused thumb runs over the tight pebbled nub, making you hiss. He rubs his finger back and forth over your sensitive peak, a hot blush creeping up his ears.

“They’re even better than I imagined.” He moans, leaning forward to flick his warm wet tongue over it. Your head falls back against the chair as he sucks at your needy nipples. His lips are soft and you wonder how they’d feel to have wrapped around your clit. He rotates between licks and sucks, his finger pinches and rolls the other giving it just as much attention. The popping and slurping noises are incredibly lewd. By the time he pulls away your body is like putty. But he isn’t done with you.

You gasp as he plunges his lengthy finger inside your slimy hot channel. He doesn’t give you time to adjust before he starts pumping in and out at a feverish pace. Your insides squelch and clamp around him hungrily.

“This pussy is just as greedy as you are, my little sinner.” He growls, adding a second finger. The stretch is intense. He curls them deep within, rubbing at the ridged nodule hidden deep inside your canal. You bite your lip to keep from screaming. Your walls flutter around him as he massages your G Spot with ease. You’re slumped in the chair now, hips jutted forward at the edge of the seat like a bitch in heat—seeking solace in his touch. Your sweet cream trickles down his palm as he thrust in and out harder, faster.

“Your clit is so hard, begging to be sucked. Unfortunately for you, only good honest girls can make use of my mouth.”

“Ah ah please Caleb! Too much. So…close” your eyes squeeze shut as your orgasm approaches. Your hips raise and thighs tremble as you spray milky fluid all over his hand and uniform. He extracts slowly, using his clean hand to grab your face hard and the other to shove his slick fingers past your lips.

“Taste your sin. Isn’t it sweet?”

[diejager]

Hi! I got the notification that your requests are open skjsjsjs so exciting, can you do something about the noodle dragon with Monster!Task Force 141 please? That would be all, thank you and have a nice day! ❤️✨

Cw: canon-typical violence, weird water magic, weird dragon/monster shit and lore, death, crash, tell me if I missed any.

They’d gotten used to you over the month, watching you prance around them like a graceful panther in hunt, stalking around them with that cheeky smile of yours and a clawed hand always ready to patch someone up. You were a might dragon, a warm to some classifications and an Asian one to others, but the consensus was that you weren’t one to be trifled with —as most dragons were, but if anything, you were so a feline in a body of a dragon than the ferocious monster you were. Always prowling and on guard, watchful and observant, aware of the events transpiring around you like a protective cat.

They took well to you, forgoing the paranoia and apprehension at your eagerness to help them and you openness, your long tail, hard scales protecting the thick cords of sinewy muscles curled ever so softly around them, and the tuff of fur tickling any naked piece of skin. And however tender and soft-hearted you were, they’d seen the dangerous part of you, the draconic one with a strange affinity to water rather than the destructive fire they were so familiar with. Whereas Price was a chaotic force, burning everything on his path and leaving nothing but cinder and ash, you were an unmoving force of water, a typhoon and cyclone that would crash the land and leave broken pieces of what remained, cold and drowned —the calm before the storm as people said, a perfect imagery of you.

Yet there was a lingering suspicion that it was all, that there was a more monstrous part of you hidden away from their eyes. Horangi had shared such thoughts - another mythical creature of sacredness and nobility - and showed them what hehad heard of eastern dragons: giant snake-like creatures with the faces of lions and crowns of graceful antlers, born with lustrous manes and hard but flexible scales that let them dance and twirl as they wished it. Destructive beauty, Horangihad mumbled, a creature who’s image is drawn to represent beauty and nobility. 

They knew, they were fully aware, that you had more to show, yet they couldn’t hold back the awe and amazement that followed the gut-deep fear and worry after they saw you fall, your figure shrinking as you plummeted into the dark and silent ocean, gone into the wide, open sea. Rather than seeing your head pop out, gasping for air while they clung to their straps and helicopter, Nikolai screaming through the comma about holding onto something, swirling left and right to avoid being hit a second time by the war ship, it was calm, a smooth plain growing in darkness, a shape forming beneath the veil of a blue ocean. 

Then, before they knew it, a majestic serpent erupted from the sea, wet scales gleaming under the sun while you rose into the sky in a spiral, white fur floating like you hadn’t just come out of water. You were swift, curling in the air, your magicworking it’s wonder when you flew, stubby arms and legs moving as if you were swimming, looping around them to shield them from being narrowly hit. It was as Horangi gushed, water rose and fell with you, tendrils of salty water reaching out to curl around you, rising high to swarm the enemy ship the same way you did, circling around it until it was left submerged, swallowed up by your hydromancy. You had drowned warship in the depth of the abyss, a dark and cold pit that promised a lonely death, forgotten and painful. You had caused the deaths of hundreds with a twirling dance, an alluring, yet deadly show, like an oleander.

You made no show of joining them in the aircraft, keeping your distance from them, adequate enough to protect them from further damage without becoming a danger to them. They - especially Price, since he had never seen an eastern dragon, only from files and catalogues - gawked, gazing at your head-sized eye, blinking owlishly at them with a narrowed eyes, slitted pupil gleaming with glee at their admiration. You purred, a growling rumble that shook your gills, a deep sound shuddering through them like thunder, low and booming, but it was a happy sound, meant to comfort them from the near sinking that you’d saved them from.

Even in this situation, where they’d been saved by you, you were still trying to comfort them and reassure them despite having taken a hit or two. They were glad Laswell found you.

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[that-student-that-has-homework]

okay so I'm watching apothecary diaries and I have just completed season 2 episode 36.

out of respect for those who do not like to have things spoiled, all of my screeching, squealing, and squawking is below the cut

@birinboom here's all the stuff I wanted to share with you!

I love Lady Gyokuyou. She's such a clever, kind, caring, and poised lady. I enjoy the way she handles herself and her affairs. I'm remembering how in season 1 she talked about how ignorance is a blight or disease and that just really resonates with me

also the way she had no problem teasing Jinshi and putting him through the wringer as they both fought over...custody? of Maomao. Her saying things like my Maomao. Jinshi insisting she return her.

Either way when Jinshi finally figures out how to, and somehow manages to marry Maomao, she will technically be his...wife, which affords him higher priority in Maomao's life. Gyokuyou would probably still tease him excessively though. Love her. Thinking about the customs of this setting though, given he bought her out, she kinda is "his." I'm going to stop myself here.

TLDR: Gyokuyou, you queen. Love that you gave Jinshi a hard time before letting him take Maomao on a trip.

I actually like Basen. Maybe because he's cute. Maybe because I like his JP casting...he has a nice voice. Or maybe it's because I adore his father. Gaoshun is truly such a sweet man. Anywho this question has me entertained. It's because she's brilliant and really handy my dude. Girls solves problems like it's her primary source of income (which it kinda is becoming her primary source of income...or has it already given she's now in Jinshi's employ and not Gyokuyou's).

Also given how perceptive Gaoshun is, he noticed probably before Jinshi even bothered to consider that his interest in Maomao is romantic, that it was in fact of that nature. Given how useful she's been and how many important people have solicited her help, I feel like Gaoshun is growing slightly more lenient about Jinshi's feelings. Though at the same time, he's probably more than ready to advise against them if he feels they will harm Jinshi. Gaoshun probably even has the strength of character to take action to aid Jinshi in overcoming any feelings.

He is allowing Jinshi his proximity to Maomao within reason because it does help and I'm of the opinion it does have some kind of positive effect on Jinshi overall. Jinshi does seem more...relaxed, or perhaps I ought to say, at ease with Maomao.

Anyway, Jinshi doesn't have to worry at all about single Basen being around Maomao. Basen hasn't got the slightest interest in her.

he's giving ✨Diva✨ ...which he kinda is... ...sometimes...

I think it's awesome he feels this comfortable and relaxed around Maomao. Gaoshun raised him, and Basen is essentially another man and an extension of Gaoshun, so the only person he'd really have to stand on ceremony for in this context is Maomao.

He could also just be subconsciously trying to charm her...even though he knows she immune

this was just adorable to me despite the violence. Papa-shun punch.

this got a laugh out of me like. Maomao really said: "I'm build different" when Basen commented on her tolerance to...I think it was alcohol?

BEST BOI IS BACK! I genuinely adore and enjoy Lihaku. He's an honest fella...as I type this I think about how he's going to get wrung dry by the Virdigris House as a result. Anywho it was nice to see him again

Lihaku is something of an overgrown puppy. Oh gosh...this girl though...she us fr

Now...onto the bits that had meeee

Maomao really said: I'm about to get a troublesome lore drop, time for a swift exit. Girl was dodging him revealing who he really was like her life depended on it...probably because it does.

One thing I really like about Maomao is how she's very aware of how the system works and she tries her best to position herself in a way that keeps her out of trouble, or keeps her safe. That element makes her feel really human, and real. It also keeps her from having those traditionally known "mary-sue" qualities that tend to make characters unlikable. Her character is primarily interested in medicine and poison, that remains consistent regardless. She doesn't have to agree with the system, but she doesn't take it upon herself to fix it, because as previously stated it's not her area of interest.

One thing I do like is that Maomao will work within her means/limits to do good though. She just doesn't launch a full-scale campaign to change the system. So long as she has access to her herbs and poisonous specimens, so long as people around her are healthy, then she's chillin'

A very good boy to the rescue. I enjoyed this scene a lot. I also found myself cackling about how I could see the way their dynamic would be when they're married. I can see him trying (and mostly failing) to charm Maomao for the evening, and they'd have their toddler come and ruin everything by jumping onto him.

Honestly the whole thing from start to finish was a ride. There's a few things that stood out to me that I enjoyed:

Jinshi doesn't really stare when Maomao is removing her clothes. He looks away initially and attempts to give Maomao space and privacy. The time he does look is when she's offering him something to eat. He isn't even sneaking peaks. It really is indicative of his noble status and upbringing. I have a feeling people want to debate me on the idea that nobles aren't all that noble in character, but see that's the thing. Jinshi is of noble birth and more importantly noble character.

This stood out and it was interesting: Jinshi changed his hair from a middle to a side part. I assumed that was part of the disguise.

Maomao's clinical approach to things is really entertaining for me. Jinshi's an emotional mess and Maomao's just deadpan and dealing with it all without the frills. Though soon enough he's also being strategic right alongside her. I do enjoy those moments when they're collaborating on something, it really shows you how they're a good match for one another. Their synergy is really fun to observe.

I finally understood why they called it the frog scene...kinda...when I saw the frog. Though with all the discussion about the frog...that wasn't a frog...which I will not be delving into beyond: they oughta put Sakata Gintoki reacting to this episode because that would be a riot.

I really enjoyed the difference in size between Maomao and Jinshi. There were also really clear hints to how much physically stronger (and therefore threatening) Jinshi was. The scene seemed to work to establish, perhaps more to Maomao than to us, that Jinshi is indeed a man. There's supposed to be a shift in her mentality or attitude towards him given now she knows he's not a eunuch, but from what I'm seeing after she received the Ox Bezoar...she might need the message reiterated.

Overall though the art was really well done in demonstrating how tiny Maomao is in comparison to Jinshi.

Another thing: Jinshi's hands found their way to Maomao's waist a decent amount. The way the shots were framed it feels very deliberate. Which I think was Jinshi's way of trying to be taken seriously and as a normal non-eunuch male. Good luck bro, Maomao would probably think you were messing with her if you told her what you were feeling in the most direct, impossible to misinterpret manner.

matching PFPs anyone?

he looks so stressed over the fact that she's so cute when she's happy. do I blame him? no. but it is entertaining

though I couldn't help but think: you idiot, you hand over the prize after giving the news, girlie is not going to be listening to you or hearing a word you have to say now. She is completely taken with the ox bezoar.

best of luck Jinshi, watching you suffer is deeply entertaining for me.

oh but, "so I'll always just be me to you" or something like that...Jinshi seemed to really appreciate that. There was, to me at least, a sense of resignation, but also a kind of peace in the way the voice actor delivered the line? Like huh...guess I'm just always just going to be me...strange...

I don't think Jinshi is used to that, so he's kinda resigning himself to the idea this dynamic with Maomao will continue as is, but he doesn't really mind. He just needs to drop his guard and let himself grow comfortable with it. He already likes it, unfamiliar as it is, to be an individual and not a title.

TLDR: I laughed and cackled at Jinshi's expense. Gyokuyou, a queen I adore. Maomao: dense when it comes to feelings and super funny. Lihaku is best boy. Don't give the reward/payment until the job is done first!

[boolger]

A lapdog at a farm - chapter 2

<-former chapter ~ AO3 link ~ next chapter-> I will block any ageless blogs. Call of duty. Explicit, 18+, minors do not interact. read the tags. wc: 6181.

Farmer!John Price x Hybrid!Reader, hybrid! Kyle Gaz Garrick x hybrid! Johnny Soap MacTavish x hybrid! Simon Ghost, John Price x Nikolai.

tags: Rape/non-con elements, dub-con, dog!hybrid!people being kept as pets, alternative universe - farm, dark, farmer!John Price, working-dogs, punishments, mating cycles/rut/heat (no omegaverse), the dove isn't dead but its dying, reader is a brat, knotting, animal tails and ears, mentions of trauma, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, collars, rough sex, breeding kink, biting, threesome, foursome, everyone is fucking your honor, enemies to lovers, chubby reader, reader has a pussy

Author's note: reminder that reader is kinda a bitch at some points, thinking mean, unjustified things about our 141 once in a while. Unreliable narrators, my sinner. Apologies for any grammatical errors , the bad russian and such. So uh, this got waaay longer than intended so here you go. It will be a couple of days before the next chapter, so enjoy this snack for u all, my sinners.

chapter 2: Delivery from the Hybrid's Den!

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“I have a friend coming over for a while,” John softly said next morning, hand resting on your head, fingers stroking your long ears now and again,, “to help us with getting the boys settled.”

You were on the floor, half way beneath the kitchen table, snuggled up against Price’s leg, feeling much more needy, knowing the ‘boys’ as your owner called them, would be delivered later today or tomorrow. They needed to be chipped and Price had asked for a full health check from his vet, as well as vaccinations and dental care. John was a caring owner; the mere fact that he did this from the get go was proof of that. He had done the same when getting you, made sure that any recent wounds or scarring were taken care of - getting your teeth fixed and your nails checked.

You didn’t have much of your fangs left when he got you; your earlier owners had taken those, the memories still haunting you once in a while. They had done it without anesthesia, not even by professionals. Same with your claws, that wasn’t beneath your nails anymore, thanks to former owners as well. Price had gotten the wounds cleaned and fixed up; they had almost grown closed by now. For most of the time that you lived with John, he had made sure your nails were always done nicely, however you wanted them.

John was a good master. You loved him, more than you knew you should, desperate for his attention, acknowledgment and praise. You didn’t want to share him, not with these hounds he had decided to get…

… not with this apparent friend.

You didn’t answer with anything but a displeased sound, tightening your grip on Price’s pants; when he offered you another piece of sausage you were quick to eat it, licking at his fingers while he chuckled. For a moment your tail wagged, eating the food and pressing against his hand.

He couldn’t be serious - abruptly changing so many things? and you were just supposed to accept it? Finally, you replied.

“Do I know your friend?” You didn’t bother to seem excited in any way, your skepticism seeping into your voice like poison. Price took another sip of his tea, not commenting on it.

“You’ve met him before but it’s been years. First year I had you, I reckon. Remember Nikolai?” 

Nikolai. Nikolai. Different faces flashed for your eyes, trying to pinpoint who you had met that bore that name. 

“No,” you finally admitted.

“Can’t blame you, lass. You were a little mess when you met him.”

You let out a huff at his words, embarrassment making your toes curl. It was true, your mind was muddled when it came to the first half year or so together with Price. You had been wary of every single person, desperately acting out and having to wear a muzzle, slowly getting used to the gentleness and rules of John. How he was fair and didn’t change his rules, didn’t punish you without reason.

You heard the front door open, ears peeking up a little, a small bark leaving you on instinct.

“‘Morning,” Laswell called out, making you settle again with a huff. While Laswell was strict and sometimes a meanie, she wasn’t a threat. Only to you and John’s private time.

“Good morning,” John called out, “I’ve made coffee.”

“Ugh if I wasn’t a lesbian I would marry you,” Kate groaned happily, by now so comfortable with John that she simply moved to take a cup in the cupboard, helping herself to the coffee and some food. They had known each other when younger, that was all you knew. Their stories always changed when you asked.

“Morning puppy,” she greeted, leaning over to give you a small pat that you leaned into, tail wagging once more, “are you going to misbehave again today?”

“Hopefully not,” John hummed, picking up his tea cup once more, “Nikolai is arriving in a couple of hours.”

“Ah, your old crush,” Laswell mused happily as she sat down across the table, once again making you wonder how long they had known each other, “going to pull yourself together this time?”

Wait. Crush… crush? Your head whipped up to look at your owner and oh fucking hell, John fucking Price was blushing. You huffed, clearly not pleased at all with this new knowledge.

Wonderful, wasn’t that just fucking wonderful? Now he was going to abandon you fully, to run around being a lovesick puppy and playing with the new hybrids.

“Don’t tease me,” John answered, clearly embarrassed, a rare sight indeed, “that’s none of your business.”

Kate just laughed. You let out a grumble, trying to snuggle even closer to Price, practically clinging to his leg by now. Price returned his hand to your head, petting you once more, looking down at you. You returned his gaze, doing your best puppy eyes, letting out a little whine. He smiled at you, his other hand scratching you beneath your chin.

“It’s been years,” he mused and you were pretty sure that he wasn’t even talking to you, “he had to return to Russia. His mother passed away.”

Russia? A memory appeared in your mind. A small party. Champagne, treats. Praise from Price’s friends and colleagues, attention and love that you had basked in. Other hybrids that sent you longing and lustful looks. A tall, broad man with a loud laugh and a strong accent. Wearing a gold chain. Long hair, rough hands when he scratched you. He would almost make your owner shy with his teasing but he would shower you in love.

“Did I meet him at a party once?” You asked, “big guy, strong accent ? Wearing a gold chain?”

John laughed, “yes, that would indeed be Nikolai.”

Huh. It was not much you could remember about him. You remembered liking him, but despite that, you weren’t really interested in him getting here.

“He is going to help with Soap, Ghost and Gaz,” John then said, almost as if to convince himself that was why he was here. You rolled your eyes at their names. Not that you had any say, you were usually just called different pet names, but you no longer bore the name your mother had once given you. It wasn’t unusual for pets to get their names changed with every new owner. Your legal hybrid name, with John, was Daisy, even though the man rarely ever called you that. He called you so many other names, Princess, Darling, Sweetheart, Birdie and so on. But apparently he had decided not to change these working dogs’ names.

“Sure,” Kate answered with amusement in her voice, taking another sip of the coffee before adding, “whatever you say.”

Price didn’t answer with anything but an annoyed grumble.

“Those are stupid names,” you muttered. A sharp tug on your ear made you yelp, one of your hands grabbing onto his wrist to get him to let go of your furry ear. 

“Be nice, Princess. You’re going to behave, am I understood?” You didn’t meet his eyes, a little whine merely escaped from you.

“She just needs to be shown her place,” Laswell carefully said, John not letting go of your ear, much to your dismay, but he didn’t tug on it - just kept it there as a warning, “maybe they’re better at that.”

“Hopefully they’ll be better at it than me,” he muttered and you whined - the grip didn’t loosen and he didn’t look down at you.

“Nikolai is going to help with that too?” 

“He had ideas, at least.”

Fucking wonderful.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Nikolai was the first of the four men that you already hated, to arrive. 

You stayed inside the house, watching John appear from one of the stables, almost lighting up at the sight of the man who exited the car.

He still looked like the old memory you had of him; big, long black hair and a grin on his face. He was taller than John but not by much, Almost seeming completely opposite to your owner. While John wore working clothes, a grey T-shirt beneath his blue flannel, dirt on his pants, Nikolai was wearing a pair of blue jeans, white T-shirt and leather jacket.

Even inside the house, you could hear the booming man that was Nikolai - he greeted your owner with a loud “John!”, before hugging him, even spinning him around. You couldn’t help but stare; John was far from small but the other man had swung him around like he had been a teenage girl. 

John was blushing like one too. The sight made you curious - just like you wondered how he and Kate met, you wondered how this Nikolai met your owner.

You couldn’t help but wag your tail at how happy they looked. Despite how you hated the idea of the man staying here, even just for a little while, you liked seeing John happy like this.

Then two pairs of eyes suddenly looked directly into the window, both staring at you. It made your ears tip back a little. Your tail kept wagging, eating up the attention. 

When they moved, you moved too - rushing towards the entrance, stopping in the doorframe to the living room. 

“My my, if it isn’t the famous puppy,” Nikolai mused, his Russian accent strong, eyes almost twinkling as he looked you up and down, “up to trouble, da?”

You huffed, crossing your arms, though you felt your tail betray you by wagging a little, “I’m never up to trouble.”

Both of the men laughed, making you growl a little. 

“Unruly - just like last time I met you!” Nikolai mused, looking over at John by his side, “you gave up on training?”

John shook his head, “don’t even get me started, mate.”

“You told enough over phone,” Nikolai answered, waving his hand at John while pushing his shoes off with his feet.

Ah. So he had talked about you with Nikolai already? The fact made you scrunch your nose a little. Maybe Nikolai was just as stupid as John when it came to realizing why you were upset.

Nikolai stepped into your personal sphere with no warning, almost backing you up against the door frame, making you panic and growl a little. Tail no longer wagging - you could see John tense up in the corner of your eye, but you were too distracted by the stranger.

“Nik—“

A part of you expected him to hit you - you had met plenty of strangers with your former owners, who didn’t even let you sniff their hand or anything. Some hurting you and —

He offered his hand. It didn’t hit you, but raised to your nose instead. You squinted at him, before taking a couple of sniffs, still not quite sure what to make of him.

“Don’t like you,” you growled in warning, showing your teeth a little, not even attempting to be polite. 

“You don’t like farm life yet, puppy?” He asked, tipping his head to the side, voice demeaning, stupid smile still on his face. You wanted to slap it off his face. “Stupid little puppy.”

Instead you chomped down on his hand, Price instantly scolding out your name, moving to drag you away. But Nikolai didn’t even flinch - didn't move besides laughing again. 

It made both you and John confused.

“If you want to hurt me, you would have to bite harder, Princess,” Nikolai crooned, “now let go.”

You wanted to piss in his shoes and rip his socks to pieces. Maybe scratch up that leather jacket of his. Yet you found yourself letting go of him, your teeth barely even having made a dent in his skin.

“Get your ass into your room,” John hissed, a redness in his skin that you weren’t sure came from embarrassment or anger from your action.

“No harm done, John,” Nikolai laughed; he scratched you behind your right ear, just a tad to the left and it was like your brain melted for a couple of seconds, your body reacted on its own, tail wagging and right leg moving as well, “she just attempt to be dangerous no?”

John let out a small sound that you weren’t sure  what to make of before he grabbed you by the collar and dragged you away from Nikolai, “and that’s the kind of behaviour I don’t want.”

“He was being mean,” you whined in self defense, unable to not follow the hand dragging you into the living room, “he almost dared me to!”

Perhaps an overstatement, but you already knew what was going to happen the moment that Price pushed you over the armrest of the couch, “I bit him to defend myself!”

“You will not, and I repeat myself, not bite my guests,” he pulled up your skirt and down your panties with such a quick movement that you didn’t get to point out that you didn’t care, one hand grabbing your tail; his other hand collided with your ass cheeks, once, twice and then a third time, before he snapped out, “got it?”

A defiant bark left you, because while you knew it was bad behavior, you also wanted to prove that you weren’t afraid of this Nikolai. You twisted a little, knowing your ass and pussy was basically on display for both men. 

The grip on your tail tightened making you cringe with pain, jaw tensing.

“Apologise.”

You shook your head in defiance, ears hitting your face. Price leant over you a little, hissing out, “I would advise you to apologize, princess. Now.”

A part of you knew he was upset because he liked Nikolai. If he actually had feelings for him, as Kate had pointed out and several things pointed towards, you knew he wouldn’t like being embarrassed too much. Your ass still stung a little.

You were the actual victim here, weren’t you? It wasn’t your fault he decided to change everything you loved and then accept that he had his lost love over, who immediately tried to push your buttons.

“‘m sorry,” you mumbled after two seconds.

“Louder.” John demanded, straightening up, so that you were no longer hidden.

"I'm sorry."

There was silence for a moment - then the sound of a lighter and as you dared to glance over at the bigger man, who was leaning against the door frame, you saw him staring right back at you, a lit cigarette now between his lips.

“Is okay, Lapochka.” He said, stupid smile still on his face.

With that John finally let go off your tail, pulling up your underwear and your skirt down, ignoring your whine. He didn’t even touch your pussy! Didn’t even give you some love!

You pouted as you looked over at them, sliding down from the armrest of the couch, hands going beneath your skirt to rest against your warm skin on your cheeks.

“Sorry Nik,” John once again apologized - as if it was him who John had just spanked! The audacity! You let out a little displeased bark.

“She usually doesn’t bite people,” he continued as he ushered Nikolai as if you weren’t right there, needing love and attention.

“Is okay,” Nikolai answered with a shrug, casting one last glance over at you, smirking for just a second, “some of it was my fault - wanted to see what she would do.”

Asshole.

“Room, princess - now.”

“But he literally ju—“

“I said now.”

“You’re being so fucking mea—“

“Crate then.”

“I’m going, I’m going.” You might have slammed the door to your room, growling as you plopped down on your big fuzzy dog bed. 

It was about 30 minutes later than you dared to wander from the room to the kitchen again, standing in the doorway, watching the two men talk. Eyes moved to watch you again, as you whined and got on your knees. crawling to the two men, shamefully settling between Price’s legs on your knees - tail carefully wagging, sending your owner a pitiful glance.

“‘m sorry,” you whimpered, knowing John was easy to sweeten up, “‘m sorry, sir.”

A hand moved down to scratch you, though it wasn’t John’s-  you carefully licked his hand, a pleased rumble leaving the guest.

“Smart one,” he muttered, giving your cheek a little pinch, “knows how to be sweet, da?”

“Always,” John answered, looking down at you with his usual loving eyes, “soft lass is hard  to stay mad at.”

“Perhaps you need some more company,” Nikolai pointed out, “I worked with military pets before, they’re much different than you, milaya.”

“We don’t need them,” you whined, having no idea what Nikolai had just called you, “John will forget about me, will be too busy, he –”

John’s foot ever so gently pushed against your stomach, “don’t start that again.”

“Just insecure,” Nikolai suggested, making you huff.

“Am not,” you argued, but you still nuzzled closer to John, starting to move your hands to his inner thighs, moving to look up the best you could, looking from under the edge of the table, sweetening your voice a little, “It’s just a mistake, that’s all.���

“Spoiled, that’s what you are, darling,” John pointed out, but he still reached out to gently pat your head, “however, the boys will be here in a couple of hours and there is nothing you can do about it.”

You whined pitifully at his words, upset that your clear dissatisfaction with them joining the farm wasn’t clear. It was like John didn’t want to realize at all that he didn’t need to stay out on this farm. He needed to go back to the city, to the fancy penthouse apartment, to the parties that lasted out to the late hours of the night, where you could gossip with all the other hybrids.

“Milaya,” Nikolai repeated again, rustling with something in his jacket that hung over the back of the chair he was currently sitting on, pulling a little package from it. You watched curiously, though trying to seem disinterested. That was until he opened it and the most wonderful, mouthwatering scent you had smelled in a while appeared and you instantly moved from between John’s legs to Nikolai’s, making your owner chuckle.

The piece of jerky looking meat that Nikolai held in between his thumb and pointer finger, looked simple but oh the smell of it made it known that it was good.

“You behave and let us look through papers now, da?” 

“Yes,” you said, unable to look away or stop your tail from wagging, “I’ll behave.” 

The moment Nikolai offered you the piece, you were on it, barely missing his fingers with your teeth as you stole it from his grip. Nikolai was chuckling, putting the bag back into his jacket, while you chewed, a pleased moan leaving you as you settled beneath the table. 

Hopefully these mutts would prove themselves too difficult - so that John would send them away again. You would happily wave goodbye to them. 

With the sweet aftertaste of the meat in your mouth and their soft voices discussing fences, you closed your eyes.

You weren’t going to help with the pack settling in - that was for sure.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

You barely got used to your owner’s crush, before there were once again new things happening. Kate appeared, greeting Nikolai like an old friend as well. You hadn’t figured out much about the man, other than he had worked with a lot of hybrids throughout the years. And with helicopters. However that all fit together, you didn’t know… didn’t really care.

The big truck that arrived a couple of hours later, stood out against the farm houses; a colorful logo was painted on the otherwise steel gray vehicle.

THE HYBRID’S DEN! helping owners find their perfect hybrid pet since 1960!

You remembered seeing their logos everywhere when you were sold to the auction, years ago. The auction houses and facilities had often felt like an intermission from your former life to your new; never knowing what was going to happen, treated with the minimal care, but kept healthy enough for the auctions. 

The staff wore the colorful logo on their black uniforms, exciting the truck a few moments later. You almost wanted to tell them to ‘get the fuck back into that truck and drive off’ again, but you figured it wouldn’t result in them actually doing so.

You kept your distance, standing on the steps of the front door - strategically keeping Nikolai between you and the closed metal crates that were inside the truck. There were nothing more than a few air holes in the boxes, from where some different sounds appeared. Barks and a growl or two, though they all sounded a little slurred. Nikolai moved, giving you a better look at them, as he joined John who was nodding along to some of the information, while looking through and signing some papers. Though you were mostly distracted by the crates, you could hear some of their conversation, catching words like sedated, muzzles, stressed. Your own trip hadn’t been nice either but a part of you wanted to point out to your owner that this only proved your point of this being a bad idea.

Some of the auction workers helped move the crates to one of the bigger empty sheds that Price had apparently been renovating without your knowledge. So apparently not so empty any longer. Not that it had been hard to do that, you ignored most of the different renovating and building jobs that both John and the helpers did.

Still… he could have told you. God, did your master tell you nothing anymore? It didn’t really help your mood, your growing annoyance clearly amusing for Nikolai if his smiles back at you were anything to go by.

Despite your repeated frustration with this entire situation and these new hybrids’ mere existence, you followed along inside the shed. It was nice… Isolated, with a tiny bathroom, an area padded with mattresses, which was clearly for them to sleep together, pillows, blankets… you wanted that too. Sure, you had loads, but this only made you want more, want more from Price, so that he could prove he still loved you. 

There was a radiator, several windows, lamps and electricity outlets. You scrunch your nose with displeasure. They didn’t deserve that. At least they weren’t inside the main house. 

There was a little notch in the other corner opposite the bed area, almost like a tiny expansion, another door next to it; it was almost like a small horse stall - a deep layer of hay covered the floor. You didn’t even step into the place, but you knew the hay would itch.

You wanted it. Not the itching of the hay, but the entire place, simply for the sake of having it, so that they couldn’t. Speaking of them, you watched from the main entrance as the metal boxes were opened.

The Belgian malinois and German Shepherd mix was the first one to stumble out of the box; he fell two steps later, directly into the hay, a deep sigh leaving him, eyes darting around. You could barely see him from the amount of people inside the stall. 

“It’s alright, Gaz,” Price comforted, while you stayed in the door, keeping his distance to the hybrid, “You’re okay, boy.”

Gaz didn’t answer, just panted a little, ears tipped backwards - his eyes looked a little blown from what you could see.

“When will the sedatives wear off?” Laswell asked one of the workers, but you didn’t look at them, eyes instead at the other hybrid. 

When you had arrived, you had been scared and angry, drugged as well. But you had been alone. While you grew up with your parents, in a nice enough place, you hadn’t seen them for years - and while you had befriended a lot of other hybrids throughout the years, you had never been a part of a “pack”. You were alone — but this Gaz wasn’t and a part of you envied him, even for that.

“In an hour or two,” the worker replied, pulling you from your deeper thoughts, “they weren’t too happy to settle down before we left. It was necessary.”

A small bark left the man in the hay. It was answered by the two other hybrids, who still hadn’t come out of their respective boxes. Nikolai gently tapped on the top of one of the boxes with a knuckle.

“Come join your friend,” the Russian suggested, voice not as loud as earlier.

A moment later the border collie mix, Soap, crawled out of his box, eyes instantly on Gaz, letting himself lay halfway on top of the other. A little growl leaving him, muffled from behind the mask. Not even a second later, Ghost got out of the last crate. The Great Pyrenees almost got on his legs, growling despite the muzzle and swaying from the drugs.

You watched the staff pull back the metal boxes, letting the hybrids get some space. Ghost didn’t stay on his legs for too long, eventually sitting down next to his pack mates, the lower half of his face hidden from view as he looked around the shed.

His gaze stopped at you; you were unable to sense the reaction from seeing you again, if there even was any.

“We’ll let you have some minutes, okay? Then we’ll take the muzzles off.” John gently offered, pulling the giant from the moment, so that he looked away, giving Price a small nod. Your owner was at the edge of the hay filled area but he didn’t step into it.

You stepped back, letting the staff members from the auction pull away the boxes, Laswell and another farm worker helping them. Nikolai looked from the pack, then over his shoulder at you, barely even trying to hide a smile.

Then he winked. You sent him an unimpressed look back, tipping your chin up a little, looking away from the three hybrids in the hay, pretending you weren’t curious about them.

Some more rustling in the hay and then a half croaked, “mah held hurts,” left Soap, voice a little slurred - you couldn’t help but look over at him. His accent was weird. His ears were tipped down, some hay already stuck in his hair. With the pathetic look on his face you didn’t understand how he was supposed to be a big bad soldier.

You weren’t being petty at all.

“It’s the sedatives,” John calmly answered the hybrid, who let out a big breath from behind the muzzle.

“If I take the muzzle off, will you behave?”

“We have water for you,” Nikolai added, keeping his distance - you kept him in between you and the dogs, not risking anything. You trusted the men to be able to defend themselves. But with no claws or fangs, you weren’t a fighter - more a runner. Even if you didn’t like running.

The two muzzled ones, Soap and Ghost, sent each other a look - but it was Gaz, half hidden beneath Soap, who let out a tired “please.”

Ghost gave a small nod then. John stepped into the hay, unhurried as to not spook them, and it was Ghost who tipped his head down first to let Price open the lock with a small key. The moment he was free, he smacked his cracked and dry looking lips. 

Clearly, the man had never heard of chapstick.

Though, much more apparent, where the colony of scars on his lower half of the face. Trailing from around the lips, one over the nose as well - cheeks and chin. As he smacked his lips, you saw he had lost a fang in the bottom of his mouth. It wasn’t just sanded down like yours, the tooth was fully missing.

Price repeated the action with Soap, the hybrid instantly opening his mouth wide with a yawn, his jaw even making a popping wound.

Nikolai appeared with three bottles of water from a little cooler in the shed - you didn’t have your own cooler, which meant you would be demanding one… not that you needed it but still — giving the hybrids each one, that was always immediately opened. Gaz pushed Soap away and sat up too, while John backed away.

“My name is John Price -we met shortly at the auction. I’m the owner of the farm and you will all answer to me. Got it?”

“Yes sir.” For a moment you were impressed with the three hybrids’ synchronized answers. Only a short moment however. They were probably just beasts trained to answer like that. Yeah, yeah, you could do that too, if you wanted. But you didn’t.

“This is Nikolai, my friend, he will stay with me for a while, helping you all to settle in properly. You will follow his orders too - as well as a mean looking woman, Kate Laswell, who will appear at some point.” Humour tipped into the last part making Soap snort and Gaz give out a half-slurred giggle, while Ghost just let out a grunt.

“And this,” Price suddenly turned over to you, looking a little amused from the distance you kept between all of them, “is my pet, Daisy.” 

“Well hellooo, bonnie lass,” Soap said, his tail immediately wagging, grinning at you, as he slurred, “aren’t ye a sight for sore eyes.”

Nikolai and John dared to laugh at his words, his rather pathetic attempt at being charming, while you growled, watching Soap get an elbow in the side from Gaz, while Simon just stared, almost differently than the scot, like a hungry beast. If you were fully inside the shed, you might be able to smell if they were turned on. Disgusting. 

“Come’ere, sweetheart,” John crooned, clearly pleased with the reactions from the men, while you scrunch your nose, tipping your chin up a little - giving it a shake to reject the command.

“Do not be like that, milaya,” Nikolai suggested, “thought you were going to behave, no?”

You just growled a little again, unable to help your tail go between your legs a little; you didn’t really want to be spanked again, but you didn’t really want to become acquainted with these hybrids either.

“My princess isn’t too pleased with you lot being here,” John calmly explained without taking his eyes off you - they were still all staring at you - as John raised a hand, making a ‘come-hither’ motion that had you swallowing some spit, “but she isn’t going to chase away any wolves, are ye, pet?”

You huffed, crossing your arms before stepping inside the shed. The scent in there was nice and clean, even with the vague scent of the newcomers, and you walked to John, stopping halfway hidden by him.

However, as John’s arm snaked around your soft waist in a strong grip, you whimpered as you were pulled forward a little, unable to hide behind him. Both Gaz and Soap were wagging their tails at you, while you tried ignoring the scent of the room the best you can.

“I’m expecting you all to get along - and not hurt each other too badly, understood?”

While the others answered in agreement you just hid your face in his shoulder, twisting a little in his grip.

“No playin’ too rough,” Nikolai added, “Puppy isn’t used to other hybrids.”

“I am!” you snapped, “Just not…”

The shed was quiet for a moment as you mulled over your next words. What to call them. Military dogs. Strays. Mutts, un –

“Not what?” Nikolai almost seemed entertained by your declaration and you looked away, before finally mumbling.

“... working dogs.”

Simon huffed. You shot him a sharp look that he didn’t really seem to be affected by, in any way.

“I’m sure you all will get along,” John just mused, before looking down at his watch, “A certain princess has become too bored now we’re no longer in the city -” he ignored your mutter of ‘have not’, “- and I can’t entertain her all the time. Mentally or sexually.” 

You whined with embarrassment, a little angry growl seeping into it, but Price didn’t really react, barely moved as you twisted in his grip, ignoring the grin of the several males in the house. 

“ - Now, I will leave you three to get acclimated a little. But, there are a couple of rules that I expect you all to follow, if not there will be punishments.”

Synchronized nods. You still twisted, digging your fingers into his arm to no avail - then a hand snagged onto your collar from behind, choking you shortly as you were pulled back, Nikolai pressing against your back. Now free, Price pointed to a little map over the area, that you hadn’t noticed on the wall.

“Your jobs will essentially be to help keep the place safe. We have had problems with wolves and foxes, and so has the neighbors, since there lives a bunch in the area. You three will help keeping them away and Soap will help around my sheeps and goats in particular, given you’re a herding dog–”

Soap nodded, tail wagging, all three dogs staring at the map intensely.

“- I will find other things for the two of you to help with as well, but your main focus will be on keeping the animals - and the rest of us - safe. One of the neighbors got some horses stolen not too long ago. I would like to avoid that as well.”

You didn’t even know that. What you did know, however, was the heat of Nikolai’s body behind you, keeping you close and tethered so that you couldn’t run off.

“Most of the wildlife will go away if intimidated, but at times you might need to attack them. I am not going to give you any firearms yet though,” John looked over at them, his voice  firmer than you usually heard it, “That will come along the way, if needed. We can discuss other weapons later on.”

The mere idea of John giving them any kinds of weapon made you want to throw up - or throw a fit. Had he gone fuckin’ mad?? giving them guns? They were going to shoot everyone, going to kill John and you. You really didn’t want to die.

“My farm includes these - and these fields. You will not and I repeat not, leave my land without a valid reason. There will be punishments if you do - you will all be given collars like another certain puppy–” all eyes watched you for a moment and though, you wanted to hide  your face in your hands, you didn’t, merely crossed your arms, ignoring the low laughter from Nikolai behind you, “that are fitted with trackers, so I will know if you do.”

Great. So hoping for them to run off wasn’t a possibility for now.

“Biting or attacking my staff in any way will result in severe punishments. You will lose privileges if you don’t do as told, without a valid reason. Is that understood?”

“Yessir.” 

“Good boys. Now, these upcoming days you will most likely be following me or Laswell around, while we get you in on all these. All dinners will be eaten in the main house and you will be given keys once I get them made one of these upcoming days. I will give you a couple of hours now –” Price looked down at his wrist watch, “Then call you in, an hour or two before dinner, so that you all can shower. Any injuries, allergies or anything that the Hybrids’ Den didn’t write down, that I need to know?”

They all shook their heads, behaving like synchronized swimmers in your opinion. 

“Good. You’re all free to relax here or explore the farm if you wish so, when the drugs wear off.” 

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

As you entered the farm house, you shrugged off your jacket and abandoned your shoes in the entrance, not caring to clean up after you, ignoring John’s irked huff.

“Insane!” you declared, walking further into the house, “You’ve gone insane! You’re all going to forget about me and those horny knotted mutts will be all up in my business!”

You flopped down on the couch, face first, continuing your ranting into the fabric.

“I might as well barricade myself inside my room - Because I dont have a tiny house!! but guns! SURE ! give them guns!” Your voice was muffled, but you were, perhaps a tad dramatically, loud in your ranting. You could just make out whispering between the two men but you didn’t care… not until you were forced to, quite literally.

“Little puppy,” Nikolai’s accent was heavy - his body even heavier as he settled on the back of your thighs, a fist coming to rest next to your head, that kept his full body weight from you, “Throwing a fit again, da?” 

You could feel the slight bulge against your fat ass, making you swallow - and tail wag, hitting Nikolai against the thighs, making the man chuckle. John as well, who settled down with a cigar in one of the arm chairs opposite the couch. You didn’t even need to look to know that he watched as Nikolai tugged at your skirt.

[makesitprecious]

Karen’s representation in lighting in both BB: DA (and subsequently DD)

(I did NOT expect this to get so detailed)

The softest of lighting for Karen and Matt’s “I know you better than anyone, it’s the two of us and our memories of our good friend who believed in our purpose of helping the city” moment at Josie’s means so much.

For the season, in its entirety, there have been very bold, washing colors like when Matt was shot (fading to complete red) or Pointdexter in blue. Red in lighting symbolizes anger and violence, even change. Matt has been shown standing in flickering red and black — both in the pilot and finale — mostly as sign that he is half Daredevil and half Matt, both embodied.

Karen has been backlit with light yellow and white (heavenly/pure colors) two times in the finale: when she first arrived to drive the boys back to Frank’s place and also in this secluded moment at Josie’s. 🤍🩵💛

Even in her last scene with Matt in episode 1, it was in the brighter daylight light with a warm tone/the whites of the halls/marble floors as the set:

I’m getting on my theater major high horse sorry not sorry - but having a soft backlit glow is romantic, peaceful and calming. Showing both Matt and Karen in a soft sky blue with white tints is very calming to us as humans, because blue is the color we see most often due to the sky (blue jeans go “with everything” for this reason. Our brains are wired).

🌟 When she’s patching Matt up in this season finale, they are focused under a white light, having the pair stand out in the bunker. After that ✨ little moment ✨ Frank, Karen and Matt are all in the standard lighting of the bunker, back on “neutral” lighting terms, the messages are once again in the acting and script (damn…. She said no to that coffee y’all…)

EVEN IF THIS T’WERE NOT ROMANTIC, JUST READING IT FROM A TWO PEOPLE WHO ARE FRIENDS PERSECTIVE: they are each others safe space. They each share half the screen, taking up the same amount of screen completing the picture as a whole. In this moment they are the only people who carry on Foggy’s legacy and represent knowing each other completely, both “dark” and “light” sides.

On a love interest note, Elektra was often shown in bold, dark colors like when he visited “her” apartment at night and their battles together/against each other often at night. Her offset colors were mostly yellows: in the gym or Matt’s apartment, in college when they break into the house. It shows that as a character, from a vigilante perspective, she is rarely seen “in the light”. Elektra is an anti-hero and prefers to think of herself that way. In the daylight she’s usually murdering people so… but she knows who she is slay queen slay. Respect, I love you, terrifying queen assassin.♥️♠️

Dark colors:

The gym is an interesting take for both Elektra and Matt romantically, Matt by himself and surprise surprise MATT AND KAREN. When he’s with Elektra having sex on the most questionably-hygienic boxing mat, the lighting is very ✨ golden ✨ BUT!! With interesting creeping tones of red lighting in this scene, representative of both Daredevil, Elektra and ❤️ love ❤️

When Matt is alone at the gym it’s pretty dusty af but lit depending on his mood, the emotions of the show and his loneliness.

Are we SUPRISED NO WE ARE NOT that when Karen and Matt talk at the gym, gone!!! Are those particular colors and back are those whites and rich purples (a dark color that can represent mourning but also love) Karen is very purple/pink = a BIG moment in s1ep1 when she’s at his apartment.

White “heavenly” light ex:

^^^ The first moment so many people were cued into “oh… ohhhhhh is this… BECOMING SOMETHING???”

^^^ Their first date is LITERALLY THOUSANDS OF BEAUTIFUL TWINKLING LIGHTS.

^^ Foggy is shown in white light/“good” lighting too because of the innocence, purity and friendship he brings Matt.

Frank, in this DD:BA season is only shown at night or his bunker lighting. DARK DARK DARK. Not surprised, we needed that, as Matt often does, because Frank will cross a line Matt won’t. Dude straight up loves wearing black.

Don’t get me started on Karen and Matt’s outfits also being light colors (and a lot of dark colors when they aren’t together, like when she’s working at the bulletin):

^^^ Bright lighting and soft blues is calming, signifying a peaceful moment also clarity and caring. Even if you don’t ship it, Karen has several moments of this with Frank. When he saves her from her apartment shooting, it is tinged a dark yellow, not a golden light/sunshine yellow.

IS THIS A RULE OF THUMB? Nope!

Foggy and Matt have their Foggy confronts Matt about being Daredevil fight in white/daylight lighting. Interesting!!! Choice!!!

Karen and Matt’s first two kisses are at night (but! They are bathed in golden light both times, so it’s a bit of a cheat)

Karen and Matt’s “you are not alone” moment doesn’t take place in bright/white/heavenly light scheme, it happens in the dark yellow and dark greys and blacks of the office at night, but that’s the whole point. Their inner light and bond is them in that moment, not their dull surroundings.

Matt and Foggy’s fun college flash backs are at night or the tinted yellow or their dorm room is when they first meet. Damn, lighting department Fcking loves yellow.

It’s not like Elektra, Frank and Fisk don’t walk outside in the daylight. I’m not that much of an idiot.

Karen tells Matt to fuckkkk offffff when she finds Stick and Elektra in his apartment and that is outside, full day light. Go off queen.

💡 Lighting, like emotions, changes! It is not firmly bad or good, but most of the time subliminal like costumes/props and set dressings. The curtains are blue for a reason, but sometimes it’s the only fabric the poor set dresser could buy last minute.

Honestly? Could talk about this forever. Yeah, I could have placed this in a read more or kept it to a paragraph, but…. The Karen and Matt Are Besties (and ❤️) boat has set sail in DD:BA.

[oprarepairweek]

It's here, the official announcement for One Piece Rarepair Week! 🎉

♥ ONE PIECE RAREPAIR WEEK JUNE 16TH - 22ND 2025 ♥

Guidelines:

Posting begins June 16th, 2025 and will continue through June 22nd. If you're late, that's okay! Content will be reblogged long after the week ends, so take your time and have fun with it!

Please use either the #oprarepairweek or #oprarepairweek2025 tags so that we can find your post! You can also directly tag this blog (@oprarepairweek) as well.

All forms of media (art, writing, videos, etc.) are welcomed! (AI generated media is EXCLUDED.)

Sensitive content (i.e. NSFW, gore, violence, etc.) is allowed as long as it is tagged/censored appropriately.

This event is only being hosted on tumblr and AO3, but feel free to share your work on any platform!

AO3 users may add their works to the official collection. (Link will be added once the 2025 collection is created.)

Please note that this event is for rarepairs only. See the list under the cut for examples of ships.

Prompts:

Day 1: Stargazing | Rain

Day 2: Scars | Sacrifice

Day 3: Hurt | Comfort

Day 4: AU | Roleswap

Day 5: Soulmate | Tragedy

Day 6: Secrets | Confessions

Day 7: Freedom | Free Day

If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask! The askbox is open 24/7 💖

As mentioned previously, this is an event for rarepairs only, so please try to avoid creating content for the more popular/well known ships in the fandom if you can! Below is a list of some of those ships to give you a general idea of what should be excluded from the event.

Zoro/Sanji

Law/Luffy

Zoro/Luffy

Marco/Ace

Kid/Law

Kid/Killer

Franky/Robin

Nami/Vivi

Luffy/Nami

Shanks/Buggy

Shanks/Mihawk

Crocodile/Doflamingo

Sanji/Ace

Zoro/Law

Luffy/Sanji

Zoro/Robin

Guidelines for what is considered a rarepair and what isn't is very loose, so don't worry too much about it if you aren't sure (and again, you can always ask!) If you happen to make something for a more "popular" ship I promise you won't get in trouble. We're just taking out the really obvious ships in order to let the less popular ones get their chance to shine ✨

And as for some of those less popular ships...if you need examples, here's a whole bunch!

Nami/Uta

Usopp/Sanji

Zoro/Nami

Law/Sanji

Shanks/Beckman

Carrot/Pudding

Robin/Hancock

Sabo/Law

Usopp/Zoro

Ace/Law

Reiju/Nami

Corazon/Shanks

Zoro/Kikunojo

Buggy/Crocodile

Sanji/Sabo

Luffy/Usopp

Nami/Koala

Buggy/Corazon

Roger/Garp

Franky/Iceburg

Tashigi/Reiju

Crocodile/Mihawk

Vivi/Rebecca

Luffy/Kid

...And tons more! This list doesn't even include any poly ships, so just use your imagination and go wild ;)

[sillyteecup]

It's Always Been About Love And Hate (Now Let Me Say I'm The Biggest Hater)

Terry Richmond x black!o.c

Summary:

With their relationship in peril, Andiswa "Andy" Sloane and her influential father Isaiah are constantly at odds regarding her behavior in public and her safety. After an argument where Andy sarcastically suggested her dad get her a bodyguard if he was so obsessed with what she did with her time, Isaiah takes it rather literally, making Andy's worst nightmares come true.

Her father calls up an old friend and hires their son: former US Marine and ex-mercenary, Terrence James Richmond to be his daughter's body guard for the next 7 months, much to her disdain.

Andy, a firecracker party girl is thereby forced to live with the stoic, yet devastatingly handsome Terry, creating an atmosphere of distaste and underlying sexual tension in Andy's apartment that Isaiah now forces them to share.

Will they eventually get over their mutual distaste for one another and just make their new arrangement work? Will they wind up giving in to the sexual tension keeping them up at night? Or will they just wind up killing each other by the time the end of their 7 months comes to an end?

Read my new series 'It's Always Been About Love And Hate (Now Let Me Say I'm The Biggest Hater)' to find out✨

Warnings:

18+

Swearing/Cursing

Alcohol/drug use

Violence

Angst

Smut

Violence

Age gap (9 years)

Classism

Chapters:

Prologue

CH.1

CH.2

CH.3

CH.4

CH.5

Meet the cast:

Andy Sloane

Terry Richmond

Jazz Sloane

Zuri Sloane

Didi Mabula

Sam Ntshangase

Tae Morgan

Isaiah Sloane

Playlist:

[eleni-cherie]

agents' secrets ✨ || bts • jjk [ONE-SHOT]

"please, don't shoot me for this."

about two interpol agents assigned to catch a pack of thieves. and a dicey secret to share.

© 2024 | eleni_cherie

[one-shot in 'the thieves collection' series - can be read independently!!]

»»»

— word count: 10k

— genre: interpol agent au, gangster comedy, adventure, romcom, humour, angst, fluff, sexual tensiON, slowburning, mutual pining, co-workers to friends to lover cw2f2l

— song recommendations/inspirations:

luca vasta - imperial (i don't wanna dance)

hozier - too sweet

alexandra savior - bones

claire - friendly fire

ezi - take my breath away

jungkook - standing next to you

»»»

COPYRIGHT. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

IDEA/STORY/CHARACTERS BASED ON MY PREVIOUS STORIES: "A THIEF'S ORIGIN" , "AMONG THIEVES" AND "A THIEF'S END".

this one-shot aims to give additional backstory to some incidents from the three main stories from jungkook and skylar's perspective while focusing and adding details to their friend- and relationship.

if you want the full context and also more of the two, check out the other stories as well!

PROTAGONISTS:

JEON JUNGKOOK AS HIMSELF; YOUNG INTERPOL AGENT / FRISKY COLLEAGUE

KIERNAN SHIPKA AS SKYLAR BLAKE; YOUNG INTERPOL AGENT / AMBITIOUS NEWBIE

ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE. CHARACTERS NOT NECESSARILY LIKE THE REAL PERSONS. ALSO VERY UNREALISTIC PLOT LOL - JUST PRETEND READING A MANGA/COMIC OR WATCHING A FILM, REALLY.

SUGGESTIVE THEMES. MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE & BLOOD (BUT NOTHING TOO GRAPHIC, IT'S STILL A COMEDY!)

NOT FREE FROM LINGUISTIC ERRORS - ENGLISH IS NOT MY NATIVE LANGUAGE.

DON’T BE A GHOST READER. LIKE, COMMENT & SHARE THIS STORY IF YOU LIKE IT :))

DEDICATED TO EVERYONE WHO’S READING THIS FANFIC!

CHECK OUT MY OTHER BTS STORIES AS WELL: HERE

-Elenixx

»»»

[set between the prequel and main story]

Interpol branch office

Seoul, South Korea

Jungkook had never been someone struggling with mornings. Considering they'd spend the previous days in Shanghai, arresting a counterfeiter they'd been after for months, however, the lack of sleep started getting the best of him.

If he could, he'd have more than twenty-four hours a day. A day alone wasn't enough to fully rest.

With a yawn, he sat behind his desk and switched his pc on. Slight disappointment washing over his features as there weren't any news about their favourite pack of thieves. Perhaps Seokjin would inform them about any hints regarding Park Jimin and his gang in the team meeting later.

His eyes wandered around then, realising Namjoon wasn't at the desk across from his. And he sighed. It was a view he should probably get used to considering his older collegue was leaving the robbery department soon to become the lead at special victims.

Of course Jungkook was happy for Namjoon, but he simply wasn't a big fan of changes, even if they were inevitable. It always took him awhile getting used to new circumstances.

Suddenly a tall figure entered his peripheral view and he saw his supervisor walking towards him with an ambigious smirk. "Jungkook-ah! Good morning!"

"'morning, Sir."

"What are these bags under your eyes? They're deeper than my soul," Seokjin laughed out and gave him a pat on the shoulder, coaxing a tired chuckle from the young agent.

"I know, I know," he mumbled in embarrassment, which his supervisor missed while looking for something in his pockets. Eventually pulling out a USB drive.

"Remember the list of suspects we requested from the bootleg case? We got it here. Make sure to cross-check with the other case."

He nodded firmly. "Sure."

Only when Seokjin left, he let himself sink into his seat again. He definitely needed coffee before the team meeting in less than an hour. So he got up, making his way towards the elevator. As he rounded the corner, he saw Namjoon entering through the glass doors with the sleeves of his blazer rolled up and a pair of glasses on the bridge of his nose. An air of refined nonchalance surrounding him.

He was holding one of the double doors open and only then Jungkook noticed he was talking to someone. Catching a glimpse of a person behind his broad shoulders.

"This is our floor and where you're gonna work at next week. It's pretty much the sa- oh! JK!" Namjoon's cheery voice when noticing him made Jungkook pause in his tracks. With a shy smile, he waved and walked up to him. Seeing the person Namjoon was talking to appear beside him.

A young woman, probably not older than him but not much younger either, stood there. Compared to Namjoon's tall stature she looked tiny and when standing in front of her he realised that she was indeed quite short, probably not more than 1.6 metres in height. Her shoulder-length blond hair was falling in soft waves, pushed back by a hairband. There was a sharpness in her brown eyes and a reserved curve on her lips as she locked gazes with him.

Only when one of her thick brows arched, he realised he'd been staring and with a quick blink of his eyes, he redirected them to Namjoon who'd been talking this whole time. "Huh?"

Namjoon gave him a puzzled frown before laughing out. "Say, haven't you fully woken up yet? I said this is your new colleague."

"Starting on monday, so not yet," the young woman corrected with a charming smile, earning a nod from Namjoon.

"Oh," Jungkook finally spoke up, his eyes going round like a child's as soon as he processed the information. And his gaze returned to her. "So you're his successor?"

"Y-yeah, I guess so," she answered tentatively.

"She's gonna be your new partner."

And his lips curled up. "Nice to meet you, then. I'm agent Jeon Jungkook."

He offered her his hand, which she accepted with a coy smile, giving it a quick squeeze before letting go again. 

"Agent Skylar Blake, nice to meet you."

The senior agent motioned with his chin for them to continue down the corridor. "I was about to show her around the department before the meeting. You wanna join us?"

"Maybe later, gotta grab some coffee first."

Namjoon gave him an understanding look and chuckled. "Yeah, you look like you could use one."

He eventually met Skylar and Namjoon again in the conference room half an hour later. The two already sitting and chatting at a corner while people started gathering. Jungkook was sipping at his by now lukewarm coffee, occasionally peeking at them from a few seats away as they were all intently listening to Seokjin and the other teamleaders' updates.

The meeting went by rather quickly. There were news regarding some cases but nothing regarding Jimin, Taehyung and Yoongi. The general census being that they were currently laying low and preparing for a new coup after the failed one in Thailand months ago.

It was nearing noon when Jungkook sat back in his desk chair and stretched his neck. Finally having finished going through the list Seokjin had given him and some other evidence. He hadn't looked up from his screens in hours and when he did, his irises caught sight of Skylar sitting at the desk opposite to his. Namjoon's desk.

Her dark eyes concentrating on something in front of her, scribbling down on the paper.

For a moment, he observed her quietly as she tucked a streak of blond hair behind her ear. Tongue slightly sticking out between her red-painted lips. And he got curious of what she was so focused on.

Surely, he hadn't talked much to her yet but she seemed nice. And considering the two would be working closely from now on, he should probably get to know her better.

Skylar scribbled something again on what he eventually saw was a crosswords, too immersed in it to notice him approaching. Only a few blanks were left on the quiz and he raised an impressed brow when standing beside her.

"'Jackass'."

The young woman jumped up in her seat, looking startled at Jungkook above her.

"W-what?"

"'Jackass'," he repeated matter-of-factly, motioning with his eyes to the squares on the paper and tapping his finger on it. "Nine horizontal, 'equid – stupid person': jackass."

Finally understanding, she looked down and indeed, it fit. "T-thanks."

"You bored?" he asked then, meeting her friendly smile.

"Kinda. Agent Kim told me to wait here as he got called in by the other agent Kim and you seemed so emerged in your task, I didn't want to disturb."

He hummed, his eyes briefly falling into a sad scowl. He knew he should get used to seeing someone else, particularly her, sitting behind that desk from now on, however, it was still hard to grasp or accept that fact.

Shaking off that thought, he grabbed the unoccupied desk chair of another colleague then, rolling next to her. "Mind if I join you?" he asked, taking a seat beside her. A whiff of an unfamiliar smell filling his nostrils. It was her, he realised, she smelled nice. Of flowers.

She shook her head then, scooting further away to make space for him. "I didn't want to distract you from your task, though. You don't have to keep me company."

"Nah, don't worry, I finished and besides.." he offered her a smile, "..we'll be partners from now on. I should probably get to know you better since we're gonna spend so much time together."

Her lips folded and she nodded. "Makes sense.."

"So you like crosswords?"

"Mh. And reading. Keeps my mind busy."

"I see. I prefer video games."

"I suck in them," she deadpanned, earning a chuckle from him. At least she was honest.

"And I suck in reading anything with more than twenty pages of text."

"Oh, so you can still read children's books at least."

He huffed a laugh seeing her biting back one herself. He wasn't used to anyone being this witty with him besides Seokjin and occasionally Namjoon and it amused him. Made it easier to get used to her.

"Yeah, but I'd much rather read manga."

He managed getting a small laugh out of her after all and he grinned, satisfied.

They grew quiet, reading over the remaining blanks when Skylar peeked at him with prying eyes.

"Since we're getting to know each other right now.." she began slowly, earning a questioning look from him, "May I ask you something?"

"Go ahead."

"Why do you seem so sad when looking at me?"

His brows rose briefly, before looking away with a sigh. So she had noticed. "Is it that obvious?"

"Oh, sorry, was it supposed to be a poker-face?" she giggled then, pointing her pen at him, "If so, I must inform you, you failed miserably."

He scoffed, laughing again and she joined him. 

It was interesting. When she'd first met him a few hours ago he seemed aloof. However, seeing him laugh now had much the opposite effect on her. He looked quite innocent and childlike as his round eyes crinkled and turned into crescents while laughing carelessly. 

"Please don't take it personally," he said then, "It has nothing to do with you. It's just.. I'm kinda sad Namjoon's leaving. That's all. He.. he is my role model here. Obviously Seokjin, too, they both are. But Namjoon was the reason I joined this department in the first place."

Memories from four years ago when he'd first joined after graduating from the academy swept through his mind. How nervous and dewy-eyed he'd once been and determinded to prove himself. Looking back at it now, he had to laugh at his past self.

Skylar, however, didn't seem nervous or gullible at all. At least from what he'd seen that day. And he quickly noticed the surprise on the younger agent's face at his confession, feeling himself blushing. "I know it must sound ridiculous and - "

"No, actually.. I get it," she interrupted him, "It was the same for me."

His eyes grew round. "What?"

She only nodded vigorously. "Yeah, I applied for narcotics first but he somehow got my application and convinced me to come here instead. He.. he surely has a way with words. I couldn't refuse." Frankly, she was still amazed by Namjoon's eloquent way of speaking.

Jungkook laughed to himself, nodding in agreement. "He definitely does."

They exchanged a small smile when suddenly their names were heard from the other side of the office. Both their heads turned in the direction of Seokjin's voice, seeing their supervisor standing all the way back at the open door of the conference room, waving at them to come.

"Just got some news from our favourite thieves. Blake, you might wanna join since you'll have to deal with them from now on, too."

They nodded and immediately got up to hurry to the conference room when Skylar accidentally bumped into him. Their gazes locked as she smiled up at him. And in that short moment her cherry lips moved to apologize, his breath hitched and he swallowed hard. His ears began ringing out of nowhere then, as if they'd clogged up and he shook his head in a poor attempt to get rid of it. 

He noticed Skylar's puzzled expression, dark brows knitted together and his irises widened, taken aback.

"You two coming?"

"Y-yeah, yes," Jungkook quickly yelled and brushed past her towards the conference room.

And Skylar stood there, eyes resting on his tall figure.

What an odd guy.

»»»

[6 months later, during main story]

Mexico City, Mexico

"I can't believe I let her trick me like that," Skylar huffed, doing her best to fight against the urge of burying her face in her hands. Instead, she only shook her head, disappointment washing over her.

Jungkook gave her an empathetic look. "You're too hard on yourself," he said and settled for the seat across from her. "Seriously, don't let that get to you. Arabella Valentine is a sly one. She'd have tricked anyone and this was the first time you came face-to-face with her."

Despite her appreciating his attempt of cheering her up, her sulky expression only persisted. "I know. But considering I studied these criminals so well the past months and knew how mesmerising she can be to the point even Park Jimin constantly gets wrapped around her finger, I should've been better prepared. She caught me out completely and I know it's unprofessional but I.. I-" Skylar grew quiet before throwing her head back with a groan. "- but I quite profoundly and wholeheartedly dislike her."

Jungkook only bursted out laughing, quite amused by the usual level-headed Skylar losing her composure. "Because she handcuffed you onto the cabinet."

"Because she handcuffed me onto the cabinet," she confirmed.

It was the first time she had encountered the female thief and Jimin's 'frenemy' and love interest, and despite the stories and warnings, she wouldn't have guessed to get so easily fooled by her, too.

Quite frankly, Skylar felt her pride was hurt but more importantly she'd embarrassed herself. In front of Jungkook and worse, in front of their supervisor Seokjin. Despite him laughing it off and even joking about the situation.

"Ah, Sky, told you already. You're too uptight, loosen up! No one's judging you for that. I used to be like that, too, you know. I took everything too serious, I was so eager to prove myself.. But there's nothing to prove. You're good, otherwise you wouldn't be here."

In the past months and during long flights all across the globe and endless nights going over evidence and connecting the dots, he'd said the same. In the beginning she was indifferent and simply waved it off, then she got almost comically offended by his advices. By now it only made her exhale deeply, knowing he was right. Yet, it was hard to accept it.

"But she got away.." mumbled and propped her chin onto her hand as she looked out into the sunlit buildings outside the police precinct. 

Sometimes, she still felt like the outsider. The rookie. The newbie.

Everyone but her team colleagues looking down at her. Perhaps she was being paranoid, but sometimes it seemed like agents from the other teams and departments were talking about her behind her back. Like when she entered a room and everyone coincidentally stopped talking, people looking away when she caught them staring or hushed whispers around the corners.

It was surely all in her imagination, all these insecurities she'd felt while growing up and later in school, university and the academy, piling up. As if being half-korean and not looking like it at all wasn't bad enough, but with her mother being a diplomat and sending her to private tutors and lessons, it surely hadn't made it easier.

She wondered if any of her colleagues knew about it, wondered if they believed she only got so far because of her mother, despite her always being strictly against her daughter persuing that career and even joining Interpol.

The sound of typing interrupted her train for thoughts then and she saw Jungkook had begun looking over the security footage in the meantime, trying locating Jimin and Arabella's escape route after slipping away in the traffic.

"She'd have anyway," he eventually shrugged a gentle smile crossing his lips when glancing at her, "But you were the only one thinking about checking the archive. You were smarter than the rest of us."

That was true, she thought and it lightened her mood a tiny bit. A genuine smile tucking on her red lips. At least Jungkook never treated her differently, despite knowing about her background.

He was way more positive than her. Not that she was a pessimist, but when it came to herself she was certainly her biggest critic.

Her eyes wandered over the curve of his cheek, and the wave of his hair, and the way his shirt draped over his shoulders.

Shaking her head, she pulled her laptop closer to help him in his search.

"Cheer up, here." His sudden enthusiasm made her perk up from her screen and he turned his laptop to her. "Found where they went to. It's this café."

She arched a brow. "But do you really think they'll still be there? As if."

"Maybe not, but it's at least a clue and besides.." He rubbed his belly with an innocent smile. He got up then and flipped the device shut, gesturing for her to follow. "Come, I'll treat you to lunch. To make up for your hard day."

She huffed out a laugh. "I know you're making fun of me again. But I surely won't decline the offer."

And she gave him a wink before brushing past him.

The floral scent of her perfume staying a second more.

»»»

[a week later]

Jungkook couldn't help but giggle in childish amusement when seeing Skylar struggling matching his speed. They were doing laps to warm up and he'd decided to tease her a little more by speeding up.

"Jung-" she wheezed "-kook! You meanie!"

Another fit of chuckles errupted from his cheeky grin until stopping abruptly and looking behind him.

Her blond waves were in a high ponytail, swaying left and right as she jogged towards him. Nearing him with a scowl. 

They were both wearing the same standard field training attire, olive-green cargo pants and black shirts, almost looking like children whose parents' decided to give them matching couple outfits just for fun.

"Did you say anything?" he asked with a shit-eating grin, earning a roll of her eyes.

"We said we'd do a relaxed warm-up!"

He faked innocence at her adorable pout. "Oh sorry, must've forgotten."

Skylar could tell he hadn't but decided she didn't have the energy or will to continue arguing, being too exhausted after running like a maniac for five laps to try catching him.

"Are you two enough warmed up now?" the instructor at the training centre interrupted their bickering, both following him to the actual gym area.

Some would consider it a perk being able to exercise during work hours as field agents had to stay physically fit. Others again might consider it almost a punishment having to constantly work out.

Jungkook belonged to the first kind while Skylar was rather seeing herself in the second category. That day, however, she saw herself in the first one with him.

Defence training was on the schedule which she enjoyed as it was the only time she didn't feel totally inferior to Jungkook's muscular built which was quite the opposite to his sweet and juvenile face. And especially after Arabella having so skillfully fooled her last time, she felt she needed to freshen her skills.

An hour passed, grunts and small yells filling the area as both went through the exercises, either with the instructor or the training dummies. The air got stuffy after some, making the two eventually pause in need for a water break and to catch their breaths.

The instructor suggested for them to repeat the last couple of figures together the . One acting as the attacker and the other as the defender. So they positioned themselves on the training mat opposite of each other. Arms in front of them in a starting position.

"I'm apologising in advance, in case I'll hurt you," she said, causing Jungkook to scoff. He couldn't believe that smug smile on her gentle features.

"That's rich coming from the one always asking me to open her water bottles," he simply countered. Skylar's jaw dropped, about to retort something, when he began moving and she quickly composed herself.

Their movements were quick, she stepped in close to his body so when she turned, her right shoulder brushed his chest. Using the edges of her opened hands, she struck his upper and lower arm. Obviously she didn't do it too hard, it was more about doing the correct movements than using force. After all, she didn't want to actually hurt him.

Grabbing his arm, she twisted it until the heel of his hand pointed toward the ceiling. But then he pivoted, placing his right shoulder under her elbow and freeing himself. He walked backwards, facing her with a smug grin on his full lips. He brushed away the dyed strands that had fallen in front of his eyes with his tattooed hand as he took in the initial position. 

Skylar puffed out a breath, blowing off a strand that had loosened from her ponytail. There was determination written behind her long-eyelashes and her fingers gave him a daring wave, gesturing him that she was ready for his move.

Without saying a word, his body spun in an fast movement. Left hand pulled back into a fist, the other arm stretched out for a pretend-punch aimed at the spot beside her. But Skylar grabbed his wrist in time and forced it to stop mid-air while her other hand grasped the collar of his shirt.

And both came to an abrupt halt, staring at each other with heavy breaths. Sweat beads were rolling down their foreheads, hair sticking to their flushed skin. There was a sudden shift in the air between them, it felt tense, electrified even. And for a moment, Jungkook forgot where he was, the wave emerging from her eyes deep and dark, threatening to envelop him as he sunk in deeper in them. Almost swallowing him up. And there it was again, that faint ringing penetrating his ears. Until the instructor's loud clap yanked him back to reality. 

"Good! Back to the initial position and repeat!"

Skylar let out a shaky breath and loosened her fist from his shirt. Retreating slowly. Her brown irises fell to the bigger becoming space between them.

And she wondered if he also felt a short pain shooting through every fibre of his body when their faces were only centimetres apart from each other.

»»»

[a month later, set during the main story]

Skylar was laying in her hospital bed. Wide awake.

Hours had passed since Jungkook's visit - after a nurse had lost her patience and pressed him to leave as visiting hours had long ended and Skylar was supposed to rest. Yet, she couldn't just do that. Of course not. Laying there instead with eyes wide open, staring into the darkness.

Waking up there after three days of coma due to exhaustion should have had her shaken up. However, the main cause of her troubled thoughts was rather the situation that had brought this upon her to begin with. The memory of it replaying in her mind's eye in an endless loop.

Just a pinch between her shoulder, nothing more was needed from Jimin for her to succumb after catching him on his escape from the interpol building. 

It should've never come this far considering her self-defense skills, then how did it?

Certainly, she wasn't the only interpol agent these thieves kept outwitting, even her own supervisor getting fooled by them and yet, she felt humiliated it happened to her again.

Was Jungkook right? Did she overdo it and overwork herself?

Jungkook.. She should probably consider herself lucky to have such a sweet and caring person as her partner. He was always so considerate of everyone.

She wondered if he percieved her like that as well. As he himself always said, they had to look out for each other and that was what she always tried when they were out in the field. But somehow she felt like she failed. How was she supposed to look after Jungkook when she let herself get tricked by thieves so easily?

She sighed, her eyelids growing heavy eventually. 

"Let me guess," Jimin chuckled from behind, "You're into your little colleague, agent Jeon, right?"

Her eyes shot open at the sudden memory creeping up from the depth of her mind.

Jimin's teasing words while disarming her days ago still rang loud in her ears. And she frowned all over again about this random and profoundly wrong conclusion.

Sure, he was known for having excessive psychological skills and the ability to read through everyone, exposing them to his advantage, but even he could be wrong at least once. Right?

"T-that'd be highly unprofessional," she had defended herself back then and she stood by that. But now she regretted not simply denying it.

Yes, he was attractive and cute. Yes, he had a charming smile. Yes, he had a great personality.

No, she didn't have feelings for him. Not because it would've been unprofessional but because she simply didn't.

Right?

Jimin surely wouldn't have persisted calling it a crush if she had just denied it.

She was good in self-defence, she'd trained for this kind of situations. And yet, when he'd brought up Jungkook, it'd thrown her off completely. Distracting her. Of course, that was most likely the reason he had done it in the first place. He had only tried messing with her by bringing up Jungkook and she'd let him succeed. 

That was what bothered her the most, the fact she'd failed in freeing herself from Jimin's clasp in time before he'd began distracting her.

And that was also the only reason why he'd called Jungkook to pick up her unconscious self afterwards. He probably thought he'd do her a favour by not leaving her on the cold ground for too long, as amends for making her unconscious.

That was it. Anything else wouldn't make sense because Skylar did not have a crush or any romantic feelings towards her partner. 

She couldn't.

And still, she couldn't deny the warmth she'd felt when seeing him there. When waking up in that unknown environment, dazed and confused, meeting Jungkook's excited eyes and bunny smile gave her a wave of serenity.

He always made her feel safe. That was something no one else could.

»»»

Jungkook's gaze kept unconsciously returning to the empty desk in front of him.

It was funny in a way. Seven months ago he had struggled getting used to seeing her occupying the space instead of Namjoon and now, now he couldn't imagine anyone but her sitting there. And seeing it all empty gave him a restlessness he couldn't quite understand.

Truth was, when he'd seen Skylar lying unconscious against the wall, his heart had dropped to the pits of his stomach, filled with panic and fear. The mere possibility of anything happening to her, made his mind cloud with a dark fog.

Lost in thoughts, he kept nervously tapping the pen in his hands against the tabletop.

He secretly worried, he constantly worried for her and he didn't know why.

It wasn't because he considered her weak or incapable. He knew she was more than capable. Her scores at the gun training were always 90% or more. And she was able to defend herself, which she always proved whenever the two trained together. And she was intelligent, the smartest person he knew save for Namjoon, she wouldn't get herself in danger.

Then why was he constantly concerned over her well-being?

Probably because he wasn't blind, he saw her staying up on the plane while everyone was dozing off, going over the case files. Or staying in office after everyone was gone, to finish the paper work. Or how she constantly beat herself up whenever she believed she'd screwed up. Just like now, despite an hospital stay.

His eyes fell on the empty desk across from him again.

The relief he'd felt when she'd finally regained consciousness after three days was beyond description.

It was logical for him to worry, though. Of course it was.

Skylar was his partner. She was his friend.

»»»

[set after the final chapter of the main story but before its epilogue]

A knock on the car window disrupted the peaceful silence. Much to Jungkook's surprise, he saw none other than his partner waving at him from the other side of the glass before opening the door and sliding into the passenger seat. She immedietally took off her gloves to rub her cold hands in the warmness inside. The heating blasting from the dashboard in full mode

"Sky, what -" Cough, cough. "Are -"

"Save yourself from another coughing fit," she giggled and revealed a paper bag. Rummaging inside it before taking out a cup. "Here, drink."

Jungkook blinked, accepting the warm beverage. The steamy aroma of tea filling the car.

He opened the lid and blew on it before taking a sip. "What are you doing here? I thought -" Cough. "- Don was supposed to scope out with me tonight."

The blonde only shrugged, taking out another cup for herself. "I switched. Convinced him that he'd rather want to sit in a warm and cozy office and file the warrant requests than being out all night in the cold."

Her answer only puzzled him more as it rose more questions. "Didn't you prefer being in a warm and cozy office, too, though?"

"Of course," she nodded. 

"Then why did you do it?"

She smiled into the dark liquid between her hands. Taking a sip herself and letting it warm her her frozen body. "Because. You know, it's quite boring if you aren't around to keep me company," she admitted casually. Despite feeling her already pink cheeks blushing more. His lips parted, but before he could response anything, she cleared her throat and continued. "And besides, I know it ain't fun doing an observation. Especially not when you got a cold and the other person talks non-stop about themselves."

He chuckled under his breath and took another sip from the tea, soothing his itchy throat. "Guess that's true."

"It's you who should've been in the warm office, your nose is all red," Skylar pointed out then with a raised brow but he only waved her off.

"S'okay."

"You sure?" He wanted to roll his eyes but Skylar's delicate hand suddenly pressed against his forehead. A concentrating look on her soft edges. His breath hinched. His eyes flickering to her lips.

"You're warm, you must have temperature." She sat back, glaring at him with concern. "Jungkook, are you sure you're okay?"

And he smiled. "I am, don't worry."

To that Skylar only huffed and crossed her arms. "You're such a hypocrite, always telling me I shouldn't strain myself but here you are, sitting in a car in the middle of January for an observation while being sick."

"'am not," the round-eyed guy mumbled when an anew cough emerged and he quickly tried suffocating it with the warm tea.

"Fine, be stubborn and worsen your cold," she mumbled then, "But don't expect me to come and bring you soup or something." She shoved the paper bag into his lap then and he saw there were his favourite cup noodles, banana milk and a pack of antipyretic pills.

His lips formed a small grin. He wouldn't mind getting worse if that meant she'd take care of him really. Nonetheless, he swallowed one of the pills along with his tea.

For the next ten minutes they oberved the building in silence. Skylar felt her eyes closing on their own, having to constantly blink to keep them open. She wasn't the best in simply sitting there for hours without doing anything, hence why she despised observations. And Jungkook knew it. Of course he did after two years of knowing and working with her now.

And yet she chose to do an observation just to keep him company.

Most people thought of Skylar of the perfect balance of wit and charm. Fascinating and inaccessible, distant because of her demonstrated intelligence, and possessing such strength of character that she was dismaying and at the same time utterly attractive in an enticing and 'out-of-your-league' way. But to Jungkook she was more than that, more than simply smart, capable and beautiful. She was lovely, she was caring, she was adorable when upset and a real tease when competing with him.

But one thing he had to agree with, she was surely way out of his league.

"You know," he broke the silence, his voice quiter than he intended, "I read that classic novel you recommended."

At that any evidence of sleep washed away from her. "When?"

He frowned. "Why are you acting so surprised?" He sounded genuinely offended by her dumbfounded look and she quickly folded her lips.

"S-sorry, it's just that you yourself said you aren't much of a reader. That's why I've never expected you.." Her voice trailed off as she watched the cute pout on his lips grow. "And how did you find it? Did you like it?"

Jungkook made a thinking expression, biting his lips. "Honestly, I was confused in the beginning, but once I finally got the hang of it and used to the writing style, it was quite good. Less dramatic than I expected though."

She laughed. The lights of the dashboard giving her clear skin a faint blueish hue. "You expected it more dramatic? I found it quite dramatic as it was."

He shrugged with a lopsided grin, lingering on her dazzling large eyes a bit longer before averting his gaze back to the building he was supposed to observe all night long. "Perhaps I'm used to Hollywood-movie-drama. For the people back then it must've been quite dramatic."

Skylar couldn't help but give him a fond look. The fact he read one of her favourite books despite not being into reading, meant a lot. Especially as it wasn't a light read either, she knew.

"If I knew you'd read one of my recommendations I'd have suggested a classic romance novel, knowing you have a weak spot for such stories," she said, not teasing this time but with a nothing but affectionate smile.

"Name me one and I might read it if I find the time and will again."

"Let me think of one, after all I don't wanna be cliché and recommend Pride and Prejudice - although admittedly, it's brilliant."

"Oh, I've heard of the film  - can I just watch that instead?" His boyish grin made her laugh out.

"Sure, do whatever you want," she giggled, looking out at the dark streets again. The fluffy snow blanket covering all their dirty secrets. No one had entered or left the building of interest and no one was out at this hour unless they had some dubious business anyway.

"You know," she spoke up after awhile, "I also tried watching the movie you mentioned."

He perked up at this. "'Tried'?" he repeated chuckling, "So you didn't."

"I did!" she defended herself, "But.."

"But?"

She pursed her lips. "I cried."

"Huh?" He looked at her, dumbfounded.

A pout crossed her features and she looked out again. "I cried, okay? A bit. It made me cry."

His lips folded, contemplating whether his memory failed to remember the sad scenes or if there really weren't any. "But.. it's not a sad film," he smiled then.

"Not necessarily sad, but touching for sure," she mumbled bashfully, avoiding his glance so he wouldn't see her eyes tearing up again. She was good in keeping herself from sudden emotional outbursts, but she had a weak spot for plots like this. Although she rarely watched anime films, this one would surely go to the top of her list.

"You're cute."

Jungkook's sudden words made her turn slowly, looking at his smile with utter astonishment. No one had ever called her cute, save for when she was a child. She didn't find her face to be one that would commonly be considered 'cute' nor did she think her personality matched that description. And yet, she felt herself blushing.

Her lips parted, fiddling with her words when he looked ahead again and took another sip of his tea. Clearly missing her lack of words. "Okay, no films that may make you cry then. What about horror films?"

"Horror films?" Skylar asked surprised, glad for the change of topics. "I love horror films! I thought you were only into chickflicks and anime though."

He frowned, faking offence. "Not 'chickflicks' - romance and dramas. There's a difference!"

She giggled, rolling her eyes. "Alright, sorry. But why have you never told me you like horror films in all these years we know each other?"

He shrugged. In all honesty, he didn't expect her to actually be into this genre and was a little astonished over that. "Hm, why have you never mentioned it either?"

And the two shared a short laugh before going back to observing the building in silence. His eyes occasionally side-tracking and watching her instead.

Skylar wasn't just his partner. Neither was she just his friend.

She was the closest person to him.

»»»

[a few months later]

national treasury

Sejong, South Korea

"Team alpha, our man has been seen in the basement, near the left corridor."

"Roger that," Jungkook answered into the transmitter before pointing to their left with two fingers. Skylar gave him a nod and proceeded through the metal door with her gun aiming in front of her. Him following, eyes trained on every corner.

The basement of the national treasury was dim-lit, only security lights being switched. Bathing the corridors in wine-red and creating an eery atmosphere.

Skylar made a handsign, indicating she saw something suspicious. Shining the flashlights which were held right under their guns at the direction. And indeed, the massive door at the end of the corridor, was left a jar. Both exchanged a glance. It could've been a trap but they had to check it out nonetheless. 

Carefully, Junkook pushed it open and entered, shining into the darkness. He went further inside, Skylar illuminating the other side of the room. Cabinets, safe deposits but nothing more visible. Reaching its end, they realised the area was empty and lowered their arms with a disappointed sigh. 

His partner was about to propose to leave and check other places, only for a heavy noise behind them to catch their attention. They tensed and looked behind their shoulders. Against the red lights, the lean sillhuette of a man appeared and he waved at them. Jimin's laugh echoing through the dark then. "Don't worry! I'm sure the adults will find you soon."

Before they could react properly, he disappeared behind the massive safe door. Letting it click shut and leaving them both with a perplexed look in the light of their flashlights.

"No, no, no. No way," she muttered and shoved her gun into its holster before rushing to the metall door and desperately trying to push or pull it open, in vain. It didn't bulge even a little. Jungkook joined her, both grunting while taking turns in throwing their bodyweight onto it and pulling at the handles in a desperate attempt.

"It's really locked, huh?" he exhaled watching his partner retreat from it with a deep crease set between her brows.

"Seems like it.." She groaned, throwing her head back. "Great. That damn thief.. and what are we doing now?"

"Well," Jungkook shrugged after tapping his in-ear and not receiving any signal, just as expected considering that was one of the main security precautions of that safe. No reception. "I'm pretty sure agent Kim will look for us soon. He must notice we're missing."

Skylar only huffed though, taken aback by how relaxed he seemed. She observed him taking a seat on the ground, propping one arm on his angled knee while letting his flashlight wander around the room. The countless deposit lockers lined up on the walls covering everything in a cold silver.

"What do you think is inside there?" he asked. Brown eyes round from curiosity.

She sighed and walked up to him. Sliding down the wall and taking a seat beside him. She hated having to just sit and wait, not being able to do anything. She felt helpless and that was what they essentially were in that moment. All they could do was sit and wait for their colleagues or any security guards to find them. 

Tricked by those thieves once again. She had to laugh at how ridiculous it was.

With a dragged breath, she stared up to the ceiling. Her eyes peeked at Jungkook who was still looking around their surroundings with child-like awe. If it wasn't for the situation they were in, she'd have found it adorable. 

Quickly, she shook her head and coughed. She had to stay calm and focus. "I have no clue, Kook."

He hummed and began walking around. Lighting at the walls in search for any well or crack, but unable to make out anything like that. His gaze then went to the ceiling and the glass squares covering the lamps.

"Sky, would you come here for a second?"

"Why?" she asked but still got up, walking up him. Her eyes following his when he faced her with a mischievious smirk.

"I'll give you a leg-up and you try see if you can push in any of the squares. Maybe there's an intermediate ceiling."

She looked at him in disbelief. "Seriously?"

He simply nodded with certainty so she sighed, eventually nodding. 

Jungkook was glad that no matter how ridiculous Skylar found his ideas, she'd always agree to follow them. He didn't know whether it was because she trusted him or because she didn't want to put up with his persistence, but he was glad nonetheless.

He crouched down, folding his hands on the ground for her to put her foot on. She grabbed onto his sturdy shoulders as he hoisted her and she climbed onto them. Frankly, she got a fuzzy feeling being all up high on an a wobbly surface but he held her ankles firmly, so she dared an attempt to stretch. Barely touching the built-in lamps. 

With light grunts, she stretched more. Eventually managing pushing one of the lamps but with no success. It didn't bulge. "Dammit," she muttered and tried again by subconsciously raising her heels and slipping.

She shrieked out of shock, hands letting go of the flashlight and instinctively reaching out to hold onto nothing but air. In the split second she fell, she saw sporadic memories appear in her mind's eye when feeling strong arms enveloping her.

Jungkook had caught her fall in time, slowly setting her down. Her feet touching the ground of whose acquaintance she'd almost made.

Skylar's heart was racing, chest raising and falling rapidly as she breathed irregularly. And she stared at the soft ages of his dimly-lit face with a bewildered glare.

He was so close, he was so close and she couldn't feel her legs anymore. She couldn't feel her fingers or the cold or the emptiness of this room because all she felt was the warmth his body was radiating, everywhere, filling everything while his arms were still securely wrapped around her smaller frame.

And she couldn't help but recall the memory pieces she'd seen when falling. They all consisted of him. Pieces of them together. Of his sparkling eyes, crinkling when laughing, of his sweet smile, turning mischievious when teasing her and his gentle voice, calling her name.

"Sky, are you alright?"

She blinked, realising he was actually calling her. Concern engraved on his partly illuminated features due to her silence. "Y-yes." However, her fingers curled more around his biceps. Ensuring he wasn't an illusion of her imagination from hitting the ground after all. "Please," she whispered then, "Please, don't shoot me for this."

And before he had the chance to ask what she meant, she let go of all her self-control and instead, kissed him.

She kissed him like it was her only chance to ever do something so reckless and bold again, because it most likely was, and she had to make the most out of it.

His lips were softer than anything she'd ever known, soft like a first snowfall, like biting into cotton candy, like melting and floating and being weightless in water. It was so effortlessly sweet. But perhaps the best part of all that was that she, guilty of constantly analysing the world around her, stopped thinking. And it was amazing.

At least, until she started thinking again.

"You.. wow.." he breathed against her flushed lips then. If his pupils weren't already wide from the darkness, they'd surely been after that unexpected move.

"S-sorry," she stuttered, feeling silly and awkward when realising what she'd just done in the brief moment her logic was switched off. "I shouldn't - I mean, we're colleagues. Partners! We should not.. it was unproffessional. Let's forget about it." Her feet moved to step back, when she felt his hands holding her forearms firm in their place.

"Sky," he simply said and she immediately stopped in her tracks. "If you regret it because it happened in the heat of the moment, without any meaning to you, I'll forget and never mention it again." He paused. Her soft skin shining faintly in the light of the flashlights on the ground. His hands moved from her arms, to her shoulders and eventually came to a halt on her neck. And Skylar held her breath, unable to move her gaze away. "However," his voice deeper now, "If the only reason you regret it is out of fear what anyone at work might think, I'll remind you that no one's around."

Skylar swallowed. Unable to suppress the rush in her chest. "And.. and what about you?"

"Me?"

"Y-yeah, what do you.. think about it?"

He smiled before pulling her in. His lips finding hers again. She didn't even try to fight it, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling Jungkook closer. His hands wounded her hair, as he'd wanted to do since the first time he'd seen her. It curled around his fingers, silky and fine. Her lovely scent filled his nostrils. His heart was pounding hard, creating a rushing sound in his ears. It wasn't a ringing this time, though, it was like beating wings.

Until it was replaced with the jarring noise of the opening door, catching them off-guard. 

They practically pushed each other away, taking several steps back when multiple sillhouettes appeared at the frame of the opened door and they recognised Seokjin with security guards standing there. Bliding them with their flashlights and the two flinched.

"There you are! Jimin only left a note to look after 'the kids'," their supervisor laughed, seemingly highly amused by the situation. He turned around then, gesturing for them to follow. "Come, you two, there's no time to waste. He's still around the building."

"Y-yes, sir!" Both exclaimed in unison, peeking at each other before rushing out. Almost bumping at each other when trying getting through the door at the same time.

She nudged him then when the others were several steps ahead.

"You got lipstick around your lips," she said in a rushed whisper before picking up her pace and joining Seokjin, who was giving them new instructions.

And Jungkook smirked, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

It was good the security lights were still switched on and no one could see their flustered faces and excited smiles. Or her own smudged lipstick.

They surely had a long night in front of them.

»»»

[two months later]

Interpol branch office

Seoul, South Korea

"I'll do it - should I do it? I'll do it. No -"

Skylar turned around, ready to head back to her desk when she bumped into something hard. Stumbling back, she came face to face with her boyfriend who was arching a brow at her.

"What are you doing?"

"I- nothing," she said firmly, "Going back to my desk." She was about to brush past him when Jungkook grabbed her arm, pulling her back.

"Why aren't you going inside?" he asked. His voice was calm and it sounded like a genuine question, yet there was a judging tone in it. "You should go in and talk to him, just like we practiced."

A sulky expression crossed her face and she looked away. "I- I forgot what we practiced. I mean, I got a blackout okay? I can't, let's just-" Her anew attempt of leaving once again prevented by him.

"Sky, why are you so nervous? You'd be perfect for the position. Just give agent Kim your official application and explain why you want it."

She sighed, peeking at him with a meek smile. "You know.. I don't like when people have such high expectations of me.. I usually like to crush them." It was one of her personality flaws, she supposed. Just like she had done by not following the plans her mother had made for her life.

"Is it expectations if I'm certain that you'll succeed though?"

"That's so cheesy of you," she whispered with a giggle, "But if we weren't at work I'd kiss you for that."

"You can kiss me later at home," he chuckled, tucking a stray streak of hair behind her ear and cupping her cheek briefly before letting go. Knowing she didn't want to risk anyone there finding out and hence always reminding him to keep any display of affection at bay.

With Jimin's gang suddenly retiring in Taiwan, one of the few countries Interpol had no jurisdiction at and agent Seokjin deciding to get married to his girlfriend, Yongsun from the organised crime department, and stepping down from a field agent and the supervisor position in favour for an office one, a supervisor position in the robbery department would soon be vacant.

And Skylar wanted it.

After four years there she'd quite many success stories to list, from leading a joined unit with the narcotics department to discovering several hideouts of bootleggers. But still. "They won't consider me for the position anyway," she said, bitterness lingering in her words, "I'm only thirty and too young, it'd be against the usual custom for an agent this young to become a lead. And I know some are side-eyeing me for my family background. If I really ended up getting the position, people would probably say mother pulled some strings. And besides.." She briefly glanced up at him, before her eyes wandered around the area for any unwanted ears. "..what about us?"

A crease formed between his furrowed brows. "What do you mean?" he whispered, matching her hushed tone.

"I mean," she said, wiggling her index finger between them, "It's already bad enough we're secretly dating despite being partners. But dating while me being your supervisor? That'd be ten times worse."

His lips parted, exhaling deeply. "Oh," he slowly began then, affliction evident in his eyes, "I don't wanna be the reason for you not getting your dream position."

"No, no, you wouldn't, Kook," she quickly objected, shaking her head as she touched his hand. Giving it a soothing squeeze, "As I told you, they wouldn't consider me anyway."

"I'm sure they will," he smiled, "As far as I know, agent Kim was even younger when becoming the team lead. He'll surely put in a good word for you to the higher ups. And I'll also do so, if asked. So?" he nudged her then, "Will you stop being a coward and go to his office now? Otherwise I'd feel forced to carry you inside there. And you surely don't want people talking, right?"

She groaned at his bright grin, knowing he would absolutely do as threatened if needed. It should annoy her, but she knew it was only for her own good. So she eventually sighed. "Fine, no need for your dramatics." 

"Good girl," he nodded and turned her around by the shoulders, giving her a light push towards the door. "Good luck, although I know you won't need it."

"You're way too certain about this and I don't like it. You'll get more disappointed than me if I don't get it."

Jungkook straightened himself, staring at her with firmness.

"I know you will though."

»»»

[six months later, set during the sequel]

"Sorry for making you wait."

Skylar smiled when seeing her boyfriend nearing her with hasty steps. Pushing herself off the wall of the underground parking lot to greet him when he pecked her lips as soon as he reached her.

"Iew!" she scrunched her nose with a giggle, hitting his chest playfully, "You're all sweaty! Didn't you take a shower after work out?"

"Ah, no. Since it took more time, I didn't want to make you wait any longer than necessary," he explained, throwing his gym bag over his shoulder and pushing back the raven strands that were stuck on his forehead. "I'll just shower at home."

The blonde hummed, brown eyes shifting towards the ground. "Besides, we said not at work.." she mumbled with a light scowl, causing him to roll his eyes.

"It's literally past office hours and no one's around." He let out an overly dramatic sigh, pretending being disappointed. "And here I thought I finally rubbed off on you.." He held his hand out for her which she accepted with no hesitation and he tucked her towards their cars. 

He never took her concerns personally, he knew where they came from after all, especially these past months. However, sometimes she exaggarrated and was a tad too paranoid. At least in his eyes.

"Mine or yours?" he asked then with a raised brow, seeing her shrug.

"Let's go to yours. I don't have any food left in the fridge."

His brows wiggled at her. "Who says there's any in mine?"

Her lips parted, laughing as well. "Didn't you go grocery shopping two days ago?"

"Yeah, and I already ate it all," he grinned, "I burn lots of calories after all."

Frankly, she should've learned in all the years knowing him that this man could eat three full plates of food on his own and yet she still got surprised every time over his metabolism. "Fine, let's order something then."

"Did you finish off all the paper work by the wax?" He unlocked his car and slid inside. Skylar following him by taking the passenger seat.

"Yeah, I did. Wasn't too much after all." She dragged a breath while putting on her seat belt. Propping her cheek on her fist. He started the engine and drove the car out of the underground parking area. Taking a turn, heading west to his apartment. The sun hadn't set completely yet, tinting the sparsely spread clouds in warm evening colours. "She really didn't seem to have any clue about where all the stolen goods might be hid at.."

Musing over her words for a moment, Jungkook eventually nodded to himself. "I'll do a background check on eventual hidden bank accounts and rented places tomorrow."

She hummed, biting down her lips as they curled into a soft smile. "What a diligent subordinate."

Without averting his eyes from the road, he reached for her hand and gave it a light squeeze before leading it to his warm lips. "Gotta impress the boss after all."

Jungkook watched her blush from the corner of his eyes and chuckled under his breath.

It had been four months now since she'd got promoted and he never tried hiding how proud he was of her. Sometimes she pretended getting annoyed, but he knew that she secretly enjoyed it very much and simply wasn't used to it. Especially considering she wouldn't hear these words from her family. At least not her mother who Jungkook had the displeasure to meet, way before they'd started dating. It was only once but it had been enough for him to determine her personality, since Skylar herself wouldn't talk much about her - let alone speak ill of her.

He'd never admit it to her, not wanting to hurt her pride, but he pitied her a lot for that. He couldn't imagine not having both his parents' support hence why he made sure to be the one giving her lots of affirmation instead.

Particularly now with Jimin and his gang suddenly making a comeback in thievery after only half a year of retirement and everyone in the team, especially Skylar as the team lead now, being in a tizzy because of it. Even Seokjin having returned for extra support for this occasion. Not that they minded, they had missed their senior colleague's cheeriness and bad humour.

They eventually reached Jungkook's apartment and ordered food, him ordering a double portion obviously, before settling in front of his big flat-screen. Watching a survival show Skylar didn't really care about, but it was Jungkook's favourite so she didn't mind. It was too warm for her to concentrate on anything anyway. She was at her second scoop of ice cream, unable to cool herself. Not even a shower having helped.

She was sitting beside him, cross-legged and focused on her dessert. Her damp hair was flowing over her shoulders, slightly wetting the collar of her tanktop. A few small streaks framing her high cheekbones. He observed her dark brows knitting together then, struggling with a brain freeze before recovering and going back to digging into her ice cream. And he breathed out a smile. 

He was helplessly and irrecoverably in love with her. Probably was from the very first day, even if he'd ignored the signs back then.

"Sky, say.."

She looked up from her caramel ice-cream, leading the spoon into her mouth with a frown as he'd stopped mid-sentence, making him huff out a chuckle. His arm stretched and he wiped away a bit of the cold sweet from her chin. A dragged sigh leaving his lips then, he shifted uncomfortable in his seat.

Uncertain of whether to repeat himself or simply letting go of the knowingly difficult topic, his eyes focused back on the show they were watching.

"Nothing.. just forget about it."

Maybe it was easier to pretend that he didn't want more out of this, always wanted. From the very beginning eight months ago, Skylar had been very clear and he had promised to respect her wishes. And yet, his heart couldn't help but crumble each time they worked on cases together and had to suppress even the smallest display of affection in fear anyone would sense there was more between them than just being team members.

However, despite him playing it off, as he usually did for her sake, Skylar couldn't help but notice the affliction in his eyes. She always did. 

It wasn't like she didn't sympathise with him. It wasn't like she never got just as frustrated as him. It wasn't like she didn't feel the same. However, she was scared of losing everything at once if she dared saying anything.

She was one of the youngest team leaders in the history of the South Korean branch office. And a woman and half-foreigner on top of it all. She couldn't risk having her colleagues discrediting her or their work and scrutinise every little decision she made when knowing she dated her former partner and now subordinate.

And yet. there were also times when she thought none of that mattered anyway, because it was him. Because it was Jungkook. The sweet goofball who always had her back and had saved her ass more times that she could count.

Slowly, she put the bowl aside onto the coffee table where his legs were spread onto. Untangling her own legs, she knelt next to him on the couch.

"Hey," she poked his cheek with a pout, tilting her head. "Don't ignore me."

"'Am not," he chuckled and caught her wrist before she could poke him anew. "Just watching the show."

"I know you ain't actually paying attention."

Rolling his eyes, he held her gaze. Unable to dismiss the sorrowful sparkle in her big eyes. "Sky, it's.. it's okay." He forced himself to smile with his lips pressed together. Redirecting his gaze back on the flatscreen before he even had the chance to say something absurd and irrational like suggesting to make their relationship public.

The screen suddenly turned black and his brows arched at her.

"Let's talk about it."

"Is there anything to talk about though?" His voice holding genuine confusion. "I get your reasons and you know I'm supporting you no matter what. I just.." His voice trailed off. Shy eyes found hers again as she was intently listening to him. A faint smile on his face as he cupped her rosy cheek. "I'd love if this thing between us was real."

"It is real to me," she frowned, covering his hand with hers. "Just 'cause we keep it a secret from our colleagues doesn't mean it isn't." 

Skylar knew she wasn't as good in showing her affection or romantic nature as he was, but she thought that by now he'd know her feelings for him and that their relationship was more than just a fling or a little after-work affair to her.

The crush she once had - and which that thief had perfectly deducted years ago even if she hadn't acknowledged it - having developed into way more by now. She knew she loved him.

The corners of his lips tucked into a wider smile. Hearing that made his heart-flutter, the validation that this meant more to her as well. "Alright, let me replace 'real' with 'official' then," he said, making her smile as well. And she drew closer to him.

"Alright."

His grin faded, taken aback. "Alright?" he repeated, unsure.

"Yeah, alright. Let's do it. Let's make it official. No secrecy anymore."

"I didn't say that to pressure you. I wouldn't want us to get in trouble at work a-"

"Honestly, screw them!" she cut him off, sitting back with folded arms. "I'm sick of having to fear losing my position just because I love you. It's not like we'd be making out in front of everyone or bicker while interrogating a criminal. We wouldn't even have to tell everyone."

"We wouldn't?"

"No, I checked that."

His grin returned. "You.. you did?"

"Yeah, we'd only have to tell my higher-up and sign some papers. Son from the other team told me a week ago. He had to do it once when dating an agent from division 3. Did you know that? And agent Kim literally married Yongsun from organised crime, so.." Adry laugh left her lips. "I better not catch anyone talking about us."

Jungkook remained silent for a moment, humming as he let her words sink in.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he spoke up then. He didn't sound mad, just curious. And Skylar exhaled deeply, peeking at him before her gaze drifted into the warm night.

"I wasn't sure if it'd be as easy for us, you know.." she admitted truthfully, not being as riled up anymore. "We're not just co-workers and we don't work in different departments or teams. I'm your supervisor. And a woman, so I have to prove myself and all that bullshit." She frowned at her words. "But I'm tired of it all. And it isn't fair to you nor me. We shouldn't have to hide. We're not the criminals here."

Another deep hum followed from him and he glanced at her. She was still turned away, her waves flowing in the night breeze as she was staring out the window. A pensive expression on her features.

"Sky?"

"Hm."

A beaming smile found its way on his lips then.

"You said you love me."

"And?"

"That's the first time you did."

He watched her freeze. In her upsetness she hadn't realised those words slipping out of her lips. She turned around with shocked eyes and he couldn't help but burst out laughing. Her expression instantly softening at the sight. She wasn't regretting saying it, she only regretted the way she had.

"Stop making fun of me!" she whined then, grabbing his tattoed arm and pulling at it in an attempt to make him stop, but it only worsened it. "Jungkook!"

"I'm- I'm not!" he breathed in between of laughing. It was always a hilarious thing to him whenever his collected girlfriend slipped like that.

"I'll take it back if you don't stop."

"Oh yeah, make me?" he challenged her with a smug grin. Seeing her huff, crossing her arms again.

"You're so childish."

"And yet you love me."

Her lips parted, about to defend herself when instead, she got silenced by his kiss. He knew it was the only way to end their bickering.

He pulled back then, brushing a streak of hair away that smelled after his shampoo before placing both palms on her cheeks, squishing them lightly. He was beaming from ear to ear and it was a breathtaking sight.

"Don't worry, if anyone tries messing with you, I'll talk to them. You know how convincing I can be."

Skylar giggled. Yeah, good looks and an easy-going personality made him 'Mr Popular' and he knew when to use it. "I can defend myself," she pouted, "But thank you."

He nodded and was about to lean in again for another peck, when he abruptly paused. Staring at her with a firm yet tender look. 

"I love you, too, by the way. In case it wasn't obvious all these years."

THE END

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- hope you enjoyed the one-shot, giving more insight to Skylar and Jungkook and to some events during the three full fanfics

💜check out the whole "thieves collection" series or my main bts masterlist for other members' stories in this universe or in general💜

And don't forget to like, reblog & leave feedback!♡ It motivates me to keep writing :)