#unfortunately i have a job that requires me to leave the apartment

[christ-with-a-why]

i got a puppy and she's obviously adorable but oh my god i'm exhausted

[hamsterclaw]

You end up being responsible for Jeon Jungkook, who's impulsive, annoying and in the habit of breaking the law. Unfortunately for you, he's also funny and sexy as fuck. There's no way this can end well, can it?

Pairing: Jungkook x f!reader

Genre: Crack, smut, rookie lawyer reader and criminal JK

Rating: 18+

Word count: 11k

Warnings: Sex, swearing, criminal activity, smoking

Present day

‘Who,’ breathes Gracie, your new client, ‘the fuck is that?’

You look in the direction she’s facing, and die inside, as the black custom Skyline glides to a smooth stop on the road, in front of you.

‘Uh, so I’ll call when I hear back about the patents,’ you say hurriedly, before….

Too late. 

The passenger door opens, and you hear Gracie gasp audibly as she sees the man in the driver’s seat.

His wavy dark hair almost covers his eyes. He rakes his tattooed hand through his hair casually, his silver piercings gleaming in the light from the streetlamps above you.

You get in before he can say anything, shutting the door firmly behind you. 

‘Just drive,’ you say, through gritted teeth.

‘Seatbelt,’ he reminds you, but he’s already pulling away from the curb.

You buckle up and stare out the window so you don’t have to look at his ridiculously pretty face.

‘Nice skirt,’ he says.

‘Don’t talk to me,’ you snap.

‘Fine,’ he says, just to annoy you.

He flicks the music on, and the interior of the car fills with the pulsing synth of the early 90s house that he’s been into lately.

He’s a good driver, you’ll give him that.

By the time he pulls into the underground car park of your building, your head is pounding from the loud music he’s played the entire journey home.

You know from experience that if you complain he’ll just turn it up louder.

‘Did you get into anything when I was with my client?’ you ask, because you have to.

The lying asshole has the audacity to give you an innocent look. It’s surprisingly effective, he was born with the wide eyes and pouty lips required to pull it off.

You remind yourself again that Jeon Jungkook is not to be trusted.

You raise an eyebrow, and wait.

Finally, he says, ‘Nothing.’

You harden your stare.

‘Nothing,’ he insists. 

He kills the engine and you both exit the car and head for the lifts.

He lives in the apartment next to yours, and the only reason a rich asshole like him is in your building is because his rich parents have paid for him to stay next to you, as his appointed guardian.

It’s an unconventional arrangement which he’d only agreed to because the alternative was jail time. 

You’d only agreed to it because his mother is your boss at the law firm you work at, and it’s not just that you need the job, but you’re also one step away from becoming an associate.

Jungkook holds the lift door open with a booted foot.

‘After you,’ he says.

‘The doors are automatic, you don’t have to hold them open,’ you point out.

You know he knows this.

Anyone who’s ever been in a lift knows it.

Jungkook admires himself in the lift mirrors. You look away, but not before he catches you looking at him.

‘Like what you see?’ he asks, voice velvety.

‘No,’ you say flatly, turning away.

He snickers softly but says nothing else.

You reach your floor and sigh with relief. 

Finally. 

It’s been a long day, and you can’t wait to go home and recharge in the solitude of your apartment.

You can already feel yourself sinking into the plushness of your new sofa after a hot shower. It’s Thursday, too, so there’s a new episode of your favourite drama being released today, and there’s leftovers in the fridge….

Jeon Jungkook’s annoying voice interrupts your daydream.

‘I have to go out again tonight,’ he tells you.

One stipulation his parents made to your unusual arrangement is that you have to accompany him whenever he leaves the apartment after dark.

‘Why?’ you ask, letting your irritation show in your tone.

‘I said I’d meet some guys,’ he says. He holds his hands up as you glare at him. ‘It’s for business.’

You’ve reached your door. You think longingly of your sofa and your drama, and stifle a sigh.

‘I just need a shower and to eat before we go,’ you say, resigned.

‘Fine. I’ll knock in an hour, ok?’ he says.

You don’t bother to respond.

By the time he knocks at your door, you’re out of your work clothes and in sweats and a hoodie.

At his surprised look you raise your eyebrows at him. 

‘Am I underdressed for your business meeting?’ you ask, like you care.

He rolls his eyes. ‘I just thought you only wore business pantsuits,’ he replies, smiling sweetly at you.

Your stomach growls. You’d spent too long in the shower and hadn’t had a chance to eat. It’d been worth it.

You ignore it and lock your apartment door.

‘I’m ready.’

Jungkook whistles the tune from a newish pop song as you head for the lifts.

He’s annoyingly melodic, and now the infectious tune’s in your head.

You focus on not humming along as you follow him to his car and get in the passenger seat.

‘Seatbelt,’ he says, and you roll your eyes.

‘Yes, mum.’ 

‘You look and act like you’re 14,’ Jungkook retorts, navigating out the car park.

‘Where are we going?’ you ask, looking out the window, ignoring his comment.

‘Verve,’ he replies, casual.

You sit up. ‘What?’

Verve is the newest, hottest restaurant in town. It opened a month ago, and it’s still impossible to get a table.

‘I can’t go there dressed like this!’

Jungkook shrugs. ‘No one asked you to get into your PJs.’

You’re livid. ‘You should have told me.’

Jungkook shrugs again. ‘You didn’t ask specifically.’

You have to sit on your hands to stop yourself from punching his smug, pretty face. You catch sight of yourself in the rearview mirror and whip the towelling headband you use when you wash your face off your head.

You seethe silently in the passenger seat until Jungkook turns to you. 

‘Stop breathing so angrily.’

‘I’m sorry my essential functions are expressing unacceptable emotions to you,’ you gripe. 

‘That’s not normal breathing,’ Jungkook argues.

There’s a few beats of silence, then Jungkook prods your side. 

‘Don’t hold your breath either.’

You suck in an irritated breath and try to moderate your tone. ‘In the future I’d appreciate some notice if we’re going anywhere with a dress code,’ you tell Jungkook.

‘Fine,’ Jungkook agrees. ‘I like short skirts, if I may express a preference.’

‘You. May. Not.’ You say, clipped.

He just laughs to himself as he reverses effortlessly into a slot on the street outside the restaurant.

‘These guys,’ he starts, then breaks off. ‘Are you wearing a bra?’

You cross your arms across your chest defensively. ‘Shut up.’

‘Your tits look great,’ Jungkook says. 

‘Shut up!’

Jungkook opens the door to Verve, and you wait nervously next to him.

You can feel eyes on you, as soft and snuggly as your hoodie and sweats are, they make you stand out in all the wrong ways in this place full of people in discreet labels.

You shuffle self-consciously as the host arrives and gives you a none-too-subtle once-over.

He opens his mouth, and Jungkook says, ‘We have a reservation at eight, Frederic said he’d block out the terrace for us.’

The whole demeanour of the host changes at Jungkook’s words. 

‘Of course. You must be Mr Jeon.’ 

You find yourself being ushered through the restaurant and up a back staircase to a huge terrace with heat lamps, a glass ceiling and Koi pond in the centre of the terrace. 

‘What the fuck,’ you mutter. 

Jungkook gives you his greasiest smile, and you glower at him in response.

The two men he’s here to meet are dressed like mafia consiglieres, and they, like the host, look at you doubtfully as you approach with Jungkook.

‘My lawyer,’ Jungkook says, not bothering to introduce you by name or with any accuracy.

You’re a lawyer, but not his lawyer, and you’re glad for it because you have no obligation to keep any of his assholery confidential.

The mafia guys eye you with renewed respect, and you keep quiet.

‘Before we start, can we order? My lawyer here skipped dinner,’ Jungkook says.

You’re so surprised at his thoughtful gesture you stare at him. 

He ignores you, already looking through the tablet one of the men has handed him. 

***

The buzzing of your phone is insistent and pervasive, pulling you further and further out of the warm cocoon of the best sleep you’ve had in a while.

You’re floating on clouds, weightless and boneless and warm and in the distance you can see an angel, smiling at you. He’s got dark hair, a physique sculpted by Italian masters, and a tattoo sleeve…

What the fuck!

You bolt upright and your phone falls off your pillow, clattering onto the floor.

You pick it up and accidentally answer, only to be greeted by the grinning ass face of one Jeon Jungkook.

It’s a video call, which means…. 

He can see you!

With a horrified yelp you toss the phone onto your bed.

‘I’ve already seen everything,’ he assures you, muffled on account of your phone being face down in your sheets. ‘Now you’re awake, can I come over?’

‘What do you want, Jeon Jungkook?’ you snap, pulling your covers up to your neck.

‘I want your opinion on something,’ he says.

‘What’s the magic word?’ you ask. 

‘I’ll tell my mum you’re associate material….’

‘Please, don’t act like I don’t deserve that position off my own back,’ you reply, bored. 

‘I’ll let you watch me work out shirtless at the gym,’ he offers.

‘Like you’re going to be able to resist posting a gym selfie later,’ you scoff. 

‘Please,’ he says. 

You sigh. ‘Fine. Give me five minutes to brush my teeth.’

‘Don’t feel you need to put anything on, over that silky pink thing you’re wearing,’ Jungkook tells you.

You hang up without taking the bait.

When he knocks at your door, you give him an assessing look. 

‘Does helping you involve anything illegal?’ you ask.

‘I have a date. You’re a woman,’ Jungkook says, adding ‘almost’ under his breath. 

You scowl at him. ‘Go on, keep insulting me, that’ll make me want to help you more.’

He holds out a mug. ‘I made you coffee.’

You look suspiciously at it. ‘Did you roofie this?’

Jungkook scoffs. ‘Please why wouldn’t I want you to remember the best sexual experience you’ll ever have.’

‘Get out of my apartment.’

‘No, please,’ he pleads, holding up his hands in surrender. ‘I need your advice on which set to wear.’

You realise he’s also holding a garment bag.

‘Fine,’ you say, waving a hand.

You sip your coffee. It’s surprisingly good, but you nearly choke on it when Jungkook slips his shirt over his head and starts unbuttoning his jeans.

‘Wait!’ you shriek. ‘What are you doing?’

He looks down at his beautiful naked torso, feigning confusion. You know he’s faking because of the smug smirk on his face.

‘I need to try them on so you know what they look like on me,’ he says, innocent.

‘There are two bedrooms in this apartment,’ you say, stern. ‘Use one of them to change. Do not come out until you are fully dressed.’

Jungkook pouts but still flexes a little as he struts past you. You pretend not to notice how his back muscles taper into his slender waist.

As he gets changed, you consider what you might want for breakfast. It’s Saturday, so the brunch place down the corner opens earlier. 

Shit! Saturday?

Jungkook mistakes the expression on your face as a reaction to his outfit rather than your own internal screaming.

‘Shit. I knew it. Too much?’ he asks, turning around so you can see how the rips running up the backs of his legs in the jeans he’s wearing go all the way up to the edges of his boxer briefs.

‘No, you look like a sexy whore,’ you say absently, scrolling your calendar.

You look up to see him frowning at you.

‘And yet, you’re not looking,’ he complains.

‘I have a date tonight too,’ you tell him.

He looks so surprised you toss a throw cushion at him.

‘Are you lying because you don’t want me to think you’re a sad workaholic who’s been chronically single since university?’ he asks, with such accuracy you throw another throw cushion at him.

You wonder if that’s why they’re called throw cushions.

‘It’s a blind date,’ you say. ‘My friend Hyunjin set it up. Also I don’t give a shit what you think, at least he’s not an ex-con.’

Jungkook looks hurt. ‘I’m not an ex-con either,’ he points out.

Which reminds you of your arrangement.

‘We can’t both go on dates tonight,’ you say. ‘I’ll cancel.’

‘What, so you can blame me for being single forever? No way. I’ll take care of it. Where’s your date?’

Jungkook pulls his phone out of the pocket of his almost jeans.

You tell him the name of the restaurant.

‘I’ll have my date there too,’ Jungkook decides. He flashes you a smarmy grin that makes you throw your last cushion at him.

He’s already heading out the door. ‘Pick you up later and we can go together,’ he says.

Your door closes behind him, then opens again almost immediately. 

‘By the way,’ he says, holding up a pair of your silk panties. ‘I’m borrowing these.’

You fumble for something else to throw at him but he’s already closed the door again.

His infuriating laughter echoes in your ears long after he’s gone.

***

Jungkook’s taunts sound in your head as you get ready for your date.

You gaze in the mirror at your reflection critically.

Is your dress too short? Are your shoulders weird looking? And what the hell is happening with your hair?

You remind yourself that you can’t go another year of being single at your family’s annual get-together. You can already hear your  Auntie Rina’s probing questions, your cousin Binna’s smug comments, your brother Jin’s increasingly acidic barbs to anyone who tries to criticise you.

Besides, it’d be nice to meet someone who’d care if you were sick or who’d come over to chase away a spider if it took up residence in your bathtub. 

You purse your lips for a coat of lip tint and put the wand back just in time before the familiar, side-of-fist banging on your door starts.

At least he’s consistent, you think ruefully to yourself as you yell, ‘Coming, keep all your clothes on!’ 

You pull on your coat and belt it snugly as you slip your shoes on.

You nearly get Jeon Jungkook’s fist in your face as you yank open the door.

You duck at the same time he startles and says ‘Shit, sorry!’

‘It’s fine,’ you say, hoisting your bag on your shoulder.

You turn to go and realise he’s still standing by your door, staring at you.

You’re conscious of your heels and bare legs and that you’re wearing more makeup than usual. 

‘Spare me whatever is about to come out of your mouth,’ you say, spiky.

You’re honestly one rude comment away from going back into your apartment and your cosy couch. You still haven’t caught up on your drama.

You head for the lifts without looking to see if he’s following.

***

Jungkook holds the door open for you at the restaurant your blind date picked.

‘Do you have a reservation?’ asks the hostess. 

You give her your date’s name and she beams at you. ‘Right over here, follow me.’

She leads you to a table where a man is already sitting waiting.

He stands as you approach, and holds his hand out.  ‘Jang Junwoo,’ he says.

You introduce yourself and notice he’s looking awkwardly over your shoulder.

You realise Jungkook’s still standing behind you. 

‘Can I get you something, Jungkook?’ you ask, teeth gritted.

‘Nope,’ he says, cheerfully. ‘I’m just waiting for you to move so I can take my seat.’

You realise with horror that he’s indicating the table right next to yours in this cosy restaurant.

‘You’ve got to be kidding me,’ you say. 

Jungkook winks at you. ‘I hear the steak’s good.’

***

Jang Junwoo is kind of pretentious, you think, but then again a lot of these finance bros are. He spent a minute more than necessary pontificating over the wine’s bouquet, but he’s been polite enough to the waitress, and he has asked you a few questions about yourself.

Looks wise, he’s kind of your type, you think. He’s clean cut, tall and with a lean physique set off by his well-fitted shirt. He’s not got any visible tattoos or piercings, which is fine with you.

You’re not into that at all.

Beside you, Jungkook’s date, a petite bottle blonde in a low-cut dress with the best natural-looking cleavage you’ve seen laughs at one of his jokes.

She’s been laughing a lot, which is funny, because Jungkook’s really not that funny at all.

You realise Junwoo’s asked you a question.

‘I’m sorry,’ you apologise. ‘I missed what you said.’

‘He asked if you like to work out,’ Jungkook supplies helpfully from beside you, barely two feet away. 

He leans forward, and in a stage whisper, tells Junwoo, ‘I’ve never seen her in our gym.’

‘Stop eavesdropping on my date,’ you hiss. 

Jungkook continues, ‘But she looks good in athleisure.’

He smiles like he’s just helped you, and you turn pointedly away. 

‘I’m sorry,’ you apologise again to Junwoo. ‘I’m his court appointed guardian. It was this arrangement or prison, wasn’t it, Jungkook?’

Instead of looking put off, Jungkook’s date looks even more intrigued.

Junwoo, bemused, says, ‘Don’t worry about it. Should we get dessert?’

You split up with Jungkook after dinner when Junwoo suggests a nightcap at a bar nearby.

Jungkook assures you he’ll go straight home. 

Looking at the way he and his date are draped over each other, you don���t doubt it. Thankfully, your apartment building was built pre-war and the walls are decent quality.

Junwoo ushers you into the bar, and, alone together with him for the first time all night, you feel your self-consciousness return. 

You catch him looking at your thigh where your skirt’s ridden up and when he sees you’ve noticed, he smiles smoothly like it’s no big deal.

He orders another bottle of wine and you let him drink most of it because your tolerance is low.

His tendency towards pretentiousness is more pronounced when he’s tipsy, and it’s when he’s telling you about how you should try to experience genuine Lyonnaise cuisine that you decide you’ve had enough for now.

‘I should go,’ you say, smiling at him. ‘Thank you for a lovely evening.’

‘I’ll escort you home,’ he says. ‘It’s late.’

He pulls on his coat and offers his arm, and you take it because you’re three blocks away from home and you can walk it in under ten minutes.

When you reach your door, you turn and hold out your hand. 

‘Thanks again, Junwoo, it was really kind of you to walk me home.’

He takes your hand and shakes, but doesn’t let go.

‘Aren’t you going to invite me in?’ he asks.

‘Not tonight,’ you say firmly, trying to pull your hand away. 

‘I paid for dinner, and drinks,’ he points out, like that’s going to convince you.

‘You insisted,’ you counter. ‘Anyway, good night.’

He’s about to say something else but you don’t hear it because the lift dings and the doors slide open, and Jungkook steps out. 

His shirt is half undone, and there’s a big-ass hickey on his neck, but you’ve never been so glad to see him. 

‘Ah Jungkook,’ you say. ‘Did you have a good night?’

Jungkook pauses in front of you and Junwoo, eyeing the way your hands are still entwined.

‘Yeah, I did. How about you?’ he asks. 

‘We’re doing great, bro,’ Junwoo says.

‘Yeah?’ Jungkook asks, eyes on you. 

You swallow your pride. ‘Not great, JK.’

‘Yeah,’ Jungkook agrees. He makes eye contact with Junwoo. ‘You should get going, bro.’

Junwoo’s hand tightens around yours. ‘Yeah, bro?’

Jungkook shrugs. ‘You know why she’s my court appointed guardian? I’m not going back to Cheonan.’

At the mention of the notorious maximum security prison, Junwoo’s eyebrows rise. 

He squeezes your hand again, hard, then lets you go.

Jungkook stares at him the whole way as he leaves.

As soon as the lift doors close behind Junwoo, you sigh and slump against your door. 

‘Thanks, Jungkook.’

‘No worries,’ Jungkook says. He runs a hand through his dishevelled hair. ‘Guess my date went better than yours, huh?’

‘I shouldn’t have let that asshole pay. I knew he’d take it as an invitation,’ you say, ruefully. 

Jungkook looks at you. ‘Is that what he said? What an asshole. Jangmi told me not to expect anything.’

You look pointedly at the hickey on his neck, and he laughs but doesn’t say anything else.

You fish your keys out of your bag. ‘Anyway, thanks. Your timing was pretty good.’

‘Yeah I waited in the car outside for you and saw you guys arrive,’ Jungkook says.

You stare at him. ‘What?’

‘Wanted to make sure you got home ok,’ Jungkook says, yawning.

He’s already heading to his own apartment.

‘Hey,’ you call. ‘I didn’t know you were in Cheonan.’

Jungkook laughs. ‘Youth detention centre, not the prison. Spent four months there when I was 14.’

He’s reached his own door. 

‘Good night, Y/N. You looked really pretty tonight.’

He smiles at you crookedly and goes inside.

***

Six months earlier

You have no idea why you’ve been summoned to Jeon Mido’s office, and waiting outside in her secretary’s workspace isn’t helping your nerves.

You’ve been working for Albion for two years, and in that time you’ve never met her. 

Why would you?

She’s one of the founding partners of Albion, the biggest law firm in the city, and you’re a relative newbie hired straight out of law school two years ago. 

You’ve never had cause to venture beyond the tenth floor of this Albion-owned building, and now you’re in the penthouse.

The doors open, and Jeon Mido steps out.

‘Ms L/N,’ she says. ‘Please, come in.’

You take a seat in front of her sleek modern desk and wait.

‘Park Sejun tells me you worked extremely hard on your last case,’ she says, gazing at you. There’s a shrewdness in her eyes that reminds you that she built this law firm from nothing, despite her soft demeanour.

‘Thank you,’ you say.

‘You did an excellent job.’

You thank her again, wondering where she’s going with this. Is she about to dismiss you? Surely Park Sejun could have done that for her.

You haven’t done anything to warrant a promotion.

‘I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here,’ Jeon Mido says. 

She sets her hands on her desk gracefully. 

‘I heard what you said about the defendant on your last case. He has a record, he’s been in and out of trouble since he was a teenager. Our client was the plaintiff and you did enough to ensure the win but you didn’t go for the jugular like some of your colleagues would have.’

You get a sinking feeling. Is this why you’re being fired? Because you didn’t completely annihilate your opponent?

She seems to be waiting for a response, so you compose your thoughts.

‘I knew we had enough to win,’ you say carefully. ‘I didn’t want to waste my efforts completely destroying the defendant’s credibility when his only mistake was that he relied on his staff instead of verifying things for himself.’

‘That’s not what you said, though,’ she prompts.

You think frantically but can’t remember anything you said that would have stood out, particularly. 

You sigh. If you’re going to get fired, you might as well come clean.

‘My brother Jin got in trouble when we were teenagers,’ you say. ‘He got mixed up with a gang and he was too naive to get out before the gang leader got busted.’

You’ll spare her the details. ‘Anyway, he’s got a criminal record now, and because of it he can’t get a ‘respectable’ job. He couldn’t be a lawyer like me and he’d be a hell of a lot better, if I’m being honest.’

You shrug. ‘He made a mistake but he’s still the best person I know. I guess the defendant reminded me of him.’

Jeon Mido’s looking closely at you, but hasn’t said anything. 

‘Thank you for hiring me,’ you say. ‘If you want my resignation —-‘

‘You’re mistaken,’ Jeon Mido says, finally. ‘I don’t want to dismiss you. I wanted to ask for your help.’

Which was how you ended up in a coffee shop with Jeon Mido, waiting nervously to meet her son.

Jeon Jungkook.

She’d filled you in on the details. He was her younger son, and he’d been in and out of trouble with the law since his teenage years for various things. Fighting, stealing cars, and even, hilariously, once for posing as a valet at a high society event and parking all the cars at the foot of Mount Samo for the illegal drag racers to take their pick. 

After his most recent infraction she and her husband had sat down with Jungkook and given him an ultimatum to clean up his act or be cut off from his family’s fortune. 

You were to be an additional factor to tip the scales in his favour. 

Her proposition that you be Jungkook’s unofficial guardian and try to keep him out of trouble had sounded ludicrous at first, you were barely responsible enough to look after yourself. You certainly weren’t responsible enough to become a glorified babysitter to a grown man with a history of getting his own way. 

The only reason you hadn’t disagreed to this insane-sounding plan outright was that Jeon Mido had built the very building you worked in, from the ground up, off her own intelligence, strength and force of will, at a time when successful self-made women in South Korea were virtually unheard of. 

Additionally, Jungkook had agreed to meet you so he must be somewhat willing to comply with his parents’ ultimatum. 

You’d been expecting a degree of charm and good looks in her son, Jeon Mido was an attractive woman, but you still had to stop yourself from staring when Jeon Jungkook arrived.

Tall, broad-shouldered and built like an athlete, he’d smiled at you and offered his hand, and you’d shook it praying your own weren’t clammy with nervousness.

He was so good looking he made you want to throw up.

If this was what a life of crime made Jeon Jungkook look like, it certainly suited him.

He flicked his tongue out over his lip ring, dark eyes on you, and you wondered what that tongue would feel like on your skin.

Fuck. 

Fuck.

You were fucked from the moment you saw him, and it was only much later that you realised how bad the damage was.

It’d started off innocently enough. He’d moved into the apartment next to yours.

You’d hung out together a bit to get to know each other, and that first week had been fine.

Then he’d said, casually, one evening, that he was popping out for a cigarette, and he’d be back in fifteen minutes.

It was three frantic days before you found him, in some seedy pool hall, drunk and blazed with a new tattoo and the keys to a Maserati he didn’t own in his front jeans pocket.

He’d made you fish the keys out yourself, and he’d giggled like a schoolgirl the entire time.

After that, you’d been more insistent about sticking to the stipulations his parents had laid out, and had accompanied him everytime he left the apartment after dark.

You’d realised what a mistake that was when he offered to buy you brunch and paid all in unmarked bills out of a duffel bag filled with stacks of cash. 

Jeon Jungkook didn’t confine his criminal activity to night times.

Fuck that shit.

Then there was that time he’d offered to pick you up from work in a new car you’d assumed was his parents’. The penny had only dropped when the police sirens had sounded behind you and you’d asked, nervously, if he should pull over.

Jungkook had taken one look in the rearview mirror, and said, dismissively, ‘It’s only one patrol car. I can lose them, easily.’

He’d proceeded to do just that in a high-speed car chase in a stolen car that spanned the busiest road in the city.

It’s the first and only time you’ve been on the seven o’clock news. 

On the plus, you’d found out that he really was as good a driver as he’d claimed. 

You’d gone to see Jeon Mido in her office as soon as your legs stopped feeling like jelly, ready to apologise and say you weren’t able to do the job you’d agreed to do.

To your surprise, she’d just encouraged you to carry on.

For his part, Jungkook’s always treated you with an irreverent kind of tolerance. He’s annoying as hell and you’ve learned not to trust most of what he says, but for all his sexual innuendo around you, he’s never once crossed the line you’d drawn in the sand at the beginning. 

He’s danced along it a few times, though.

By the time you’re six months into your year-long arrangement, you’ve reached an uneasy stalemate with Jungkook. 

Sometimes, you almost like the guy. 

Annoyingly, he’s also stayed as hot as the day you met him.

***

Present day

You haven’t seen Jungkook in a few days, so you text him to check on him.

You’re already trying to remember how to get to the strip club you found him in the last time he went missing when he texts back. 

Jungkook: I’m dying

He’s fucked with you enough times that you’re not all that concerned yet.

Y/N: Yeah? How?

Jungkook: The plague

You consider this as you plate your lunch. You lift a forkful of greens to your lips, then hesitate, and sigh.

Five minutes later you’re knocking at his door. 

He answers so quickly you wonder if he was waiting on the other side of it.

He does look like hell, to be fair. 

His nose and eyes are red, and he looks pale under his golden tan. He’s wrapped up in a duvet from chin to feet. 

‘I’m dying,’ he tells you, melodramatic as fuck.

‘Do you have a cold.’

‘It’s way worse than a cold,’ he insists.

You shake your head, but he does look worse than you’ve ever seen him.

You sigh. ‘When did you last eat?’

Jungkook’s already looking at you so hopefully you haven’t the heart to say anything as you turn back around and let him into your apartment.

‘Try not to infect me,’ you tell him, as you lay a place setting in front of him at your kitchen island.

Jungkook replies, ‘I got my regular tests done last week, all negative.’

You look at him in disgust. ‘With your cold, asshole.’

He leers at you, but it lacks his usual panache.

You serve out the food and sit down opposite him to eat.

‘I always use condoms, anyway,’ he says, after a moment. He winks at you, but it’s still half-hearted. 

You pass him a glass of water.

‘Drop the sex pest act for a few minutes,’ you advise him, helpfully. ‘No one’s fucking anyone in the state you’re in, anyway.’ 

He looks at you, and you can almost see him clicking through the repertoire of innuendoes he has in his head.

Finally, he says, ‘Thanks for this. It’s delicious.’

You tilt your head, pretending to be confused. 

‘Did you just say something without sexual connotations, Jeon Jungkook?’

His smile is crooked.

‘Don’t worry, I’m still thinking sexual things about you in my head,’ he assures you.

You laugh. ‘Shut up and eat.’

***

Jungkook starts to look a bit less like death warmed over after he’s eaten, but the clingy asshole’s parked himself on your sofa and shows no sign of moving.

You shrug and put on the TV. At least if he’s with you, there’s less chance of him being in that strip club where there’s no parking outside. What a ballache that had been.

You put on the latest episode of your drama and he perks up. 

‘I haven’t seen this episode yet,’ he tells you. 

His duvet’s slipped lower, and you’ve yet to see anything but his skin.

‘Please tell me you’re dressed under there,’ you say, warningly. 

‘Yeah but I can take it all off,’ Jungkook offers.

You don’t dignify that with a response, just pass him some flu meds and a bottle of kombucha and settle in to watch the show.

After the episode ends he still shows no sign of moving, so you put on a movie and pass him some snacks.

By the time the movie ends it’s dark, and when he asks you what you want for dinner you let him order takeout for both of you.

You eat sitting alongside each other on the couch as the next movie plays.

After a while you realise he’s fallen asleep, and that this is the most male company you’ve had in a while, and that you don’t hate it.

You don’t hate him.

In fact, in the dim light from the TV and with his mouth closed and his hair rumpled over his relaxed sleeping face, he looks….. 

Tempting.

Like the boyfriend you could have if you could ever get over yourself enough to date someone seriously.

For some reason that makes you feel a little sad.

That you’re so starved for male company you’re longing after your neighbour who’s only hanging out with you because you’ve made an arrangement with his parents. 

If you’re being honest with yourself, he’d probably have never shown an interest in you otherwise.

You pull the duvet over his shoulder, switch off the TV and top up his water and meds before heading to bed.

***

The banging on your door startles you and your elbow jostles the glass on the edge of your kitchen counter. It drops to the floor and shatters, and you think dryly that it’s a metaphor for how close you are to the edge of killing Jeon fucking Jungkook.

You yank open the door with a scowl.

‘Yes, Jeon Jungkook?’ 

He looks a little edgy himself. ‘I want to show you something.’

‘Is it your dick?’ you ask, tiredly, letting him in.

‘Always, but it’s something different today.’

You glance at the clock. It’s six in the evening. 

‘Watch out,’ you say, as he passes the kitchen. ‘I dropped a glass.’

He doesn’t even blink. 

There’s a nervous energy about him today, he looks like he’s buzzing out of his skin.

You follow him warily to the window that overlooks the street behind your building.

‘Are we looking out for the police?’ you ask, in a dramatic whisper.

He gives you a half-smile. ‘There were two plainclothes cops staking out the place all of last week. I think they’re dealing out of apartment 4B.’

You stare at him. ‘Are you serious?’

He scoffs. ‘How do you not notice these things?’

‘I never really have to worry about the police coming for me,’ you say, straightfaced.

‘Sucks to be you,’ he says, without his usual conviction.

He reaches down towards his jeans and your scowl returns. ‘Jungkook, I really don’t want to see your dick.’

‘Stop lying,’ he says, but what he takes out is a small black rectangular plastic object.

It’s about the size of half of his outstretched palm. 

You wonder where he’s going with this. 

He says, ‘Look.’

You both watch as a man in a business suit pulls up to a parking spot on the street, gets out and locks his car. The headlights flash, twice.

He heads into the apartment building opposite yours.

As soon as he’s out of sight, Jungkook hands you the tiny black rectangle. 

‘Press the button.’

You press the small grey button, and to your surprise, the car headlights flash again.

The car’s unlocked.

‘What the—-‘ 

‘It’s a car key cloning device,’ Jungkook says. 

He takes it back from you.

‘All I have to do is press it at the same time as the person locking the car presses their own key, and it clones the signal.’

He says, with more than a hint of wistfulness, ‘I could steal any car on this street.’

You’re shaking your head. ‘Where did you get this?’

‘I made it,’ he tells you. ‘I didn’t invent the tech, my friend did, but I made this.’

His eyes meet yours. 

‘Can you keep it?’

His words hang in the air between you. 

He mistakes your silence for hesitance. 

‘I just — ‘

He clears his throat and starts again. There’s pleading in his voice, a wild kind of spark in his eyes.

‘Can you keep it? I don’t want it to be this easy to steal a car tonight.’

You swallow past the lump in your throat. He’s never asked for your help like this before.

He usually goes ahead with whatever impulse he has and you’re stuck playing catch up.

Today, he’s given you a head start.

You take the device from him and stick it in your bra.

‘Don’t try to seduce me to get it back,’ you warn.

He’s already eyeing up your tits. 

He clears his throat again. 

‘Actually, I’m surprised you managed to fit it in there. Are you on your period? Your tits look huge.’

As usual, you don’t deign to respond.

‘I was going to make dinner,’ you say. ‘Do you want some?’

‘You can cook me dinner,’ he agrees, like he’s doing you a favour. 

‘But wait. Let me clean up that glass first,’ he says.

‘It’s fine,’ you say. 

He stops you. ‘Nah. Look at your hands.’

You hold a hand out, palm up, and he traces a callused finger along your life line.

Warmth unfurls along your skin, following the path of his finger.

You look up to see him looking at you, heat in his eyes. 

Your heart pounds, slow, and his tongue flicks along his lower lip.

When he speaks, his voice has dropped, low.

‘You’ve probably never even changed the oil in your car,’ he says, but he sounds affectionate, almost.

‘I wouldn’t want you to cut yourself.’

He smiles, and lets go of your hand. 

Your skin feels like it’s crackling with electricity from his touch, and god help you, you want more.

You don’t trust yourself to speak.

Jungkook says, very quietly, ‘You’re doing something for me, let me do this for you.’

Your eyes meet again, and you find your voice. 

‘The oven needs a clean, too, if you’re offering.’

He laughs, and just like that, whatever that moment was, ends.

‘I’ll clean your oven,’ he says, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.  ‘Put a bun in it too.’

‘You’re disgusting,’ you complain, trying to punch him, but he’s already too far away.

***

You’re balancing on the back of the couch on your tip toes, trying to reach the lamp shade so you can change the blown lightbulb in your hanging lights, when the now familiar banging starts on your door.

You turn too quickly, lose your balance and fall headlong onto the floor. 

The resulting crash against the parquet flooring is all the louder because Jungkook’s stopped banging on your door.

You roll onto your back, groaning a little as the wrist you held out to protect your face flares with pain.

Jungkook’s started banging again, and your phone, out of reach on the coffee table, starts ringing.

You can just about make out his name on the screen, and the ridiculous selfie he took of himself shirtless that he put in as his profile on your phone.

All the racket is enough to make you sit up and hobble to the door.

‘Shit, are you ok? I heard a crash,’ says Jungkook, wide-eyed.

‘I’m not good with blood,’ he warns, but he’s checking you over gently anyway.

‘What was so urgent you needed to bang on my door?’ you ask, grumpy.

He presses your sore wrist, gently, and you wince.

‘I got pizza and wanted to know if you wanted some,’ he says. He ushers you to your couch. 

‘I’m getting ice,’ he calls over his shoulder.

‘You could have texted to ask if I wanted pizza,’ you call after him.

He emerges with a bag of frozen peas you didn’t know you had.

‘But then I wouldn’t get to see your face,’ he protests. ‘Also, you never answer my video calls, not since I saw you in your underwear that time.’

You don’t bother correcting him. 

He wraps the peas in a towel and passes the bundle to you. 

‘Your wrist looks bad, you should get it checked out,’ he advises. 

You grimace. ‘I have a case coming up,’ you tell him.

‘Just tell them it was a sex injury,’ Jungkook suggests, helpfully. He offers you a hand to get up. ‘Come on, I’ll take you to the hospital to get checked out.’

‘Fine,’ you say. ‘Grab the pizza.’

***

You’re waiting to see the doctor with Jungkook and trying to ignore the fact that he’s pulled a burner phone out of his back pocket.

He glances around furtively and you’re craning your neck to look at the screen when your name is called.

The doctor who’s said your name looks at Jungkook. 

‘Mr Jeon,’ she says. ‘What is it this time? Another broken metacarpal from fighting?’

Jungkook’s face creases into a smile and you can almost hear the adoring sighing of men and women around the room.

‘Dr Lim,’ he says. ‘You know I don’t break my hand anymore since I started winning all the time.’

You gag at his corniness, but Dr Lim just smiles back. 

‘Well, you’re always welcome to get checked out for any injuries,’ she says. ‘You have my number.’

‘Did you save it on your burner?’ you ask loudly, but they both ignore you.

By the time you’ve had an X-ray and been told your wrist is just sprained, not broken, you’ve heard enough of Jungkook’s smarmy flirting that your ears are burning.

‘Yeah, I’m still going to the gym every day,’ you mimic, flexing your bicep as you get into Jungkook’s car. ‘Want to feel?’

Jungkook rolls his eyes. ‘I don’t talk like that.’

You give him your sleaziest grin. ‘Wow you have your name embroidered on your white coat? Amazing!’

Jungkook starts the car. ‘Still don’t talk like that,’ he mutters.

‘Yeah, let me take you for a spin in my Skyline sometime,’ you say, puffing out your chest and deepening your voice.

‘Seatbelt,’ Jungkook says. 

When you reach for the seatbelt and wince because you forgot about your wrist, he sighs.

You press back into the seat, startled, as he leans over you to fasten your seatbelt for you.

He pauses with his face directly in front of yours. 

He’s so close you can feel his breath on your cheek.

He leans forward and kisses you. 

It’s a peck, and over before you know it, but it’s enough to shut you up.

‘Stop being cute,’ he says. ‘Or I’ll kiss you again.’

He throws the car into gear.

‘Besides,’ he adds. ‘The only woman I’ve tried to impress with this car is you.’

You’re staring at him, still trying to process, when he adds, thoughtfully, ‘then again, I haven’t had this car very long….’

***

You’re trying to get your suitcase down from on top of your wardrobe when there’s a blur of movement in the periphery of your vision. 

You scream and hightail it off the ladder you’re on.

The spider you saw stops right above the corner of the ceiling where your suitcase is.

You’ve already dialled Jungkook without even thinking about it.

He answers with a lazy, drawled, ‘yo’, but his tone sharpens quickly when he hears your voice and panicked breathing.

‘Jungkook. There’s a spider holding my suitcase hostage,’ you whisper, dread in your voice.

‘Why are you whispering?’ Jungkook asks. You can hear the amusement in his voice, and for once you don’t care that he’s laughing at you.

You fight to regulate your volume. ‘It might hear me and attack,’ you say. 

It seems completely reasonable to you.

Jungkook laughs so loudly you have to hold the phone away from your ear. 

‘What does he want with your suitcase?’ Jungkook asks, when he’s re-composed himself enough to speak. 

He’s definitely laughing at you rather than with you, but you’ll take any amount of taunting if he deals with the spider for you. 

‘Please,’ you plead, ‘can you get rid of it.’

Jungkook yawns. ‘Ok. But don’t expect me to put on a shirt.’

A moment later he’s in your apartment, looking up at the ceiling at the spider.

‘Just grab the suitcase please,’ you say. ‘The spider can have this room from now on.’

Jungkook snorts. 

He grabs the suitcase and places it next to you, then, before you can work out what he’s going to do, he taps on the wall next to the spider and it runs down to the floor.

You scream and jump into his arms.

He really did come over bare-chested, the asshole, and the sweatpants he’s barely wearing are low on his hips, so it’s a little more indecent than you’d like, but there’s no fucking way you’re sharing the floor with a spider that can run faster than you.

Automatically, like he’s done this a lot, Jungkook’s big hand reaches down to support your ass. 

He’s still laughing. ‘Is this like, do you want to see my cat, but it’s a spider instead?’ 

You ignore his taunts and bury your face in his shoulder.

His laughter fades. 

‘Shit. Are you crying? Listen, don’t worry. I’ll get rid of it, ok?’

You’re too scared to look at the floor. 

‘You don’t even know where it is now,’ you sob.

‘I know exactly where that fucker is,’ Jungkook assures you. 

He’s probably lying but you don’t want to check for yourself.

He deposits you onto the bed and tries to peel your legs off his waist. 

‘As much as I want to fuck you, let me deal with this spider first, ok?’

At his words, you loosen your legs from around him and he pats your thigh. 

‘Stop crying. Stay here and I’ll get rid of it,’ he promises.

It’s several long minutes and muttered curses later before he returns, a little sweaty but with a glass of water for you.

He hands it to you and brushes your hair back from your face as you drink.

‘I didn’t know you were that scared of spiders,’ he says. His tone is gentler than you’ve ever heard it.

‘They bite,’ you say. 

‘They bite—-‘ Jungkook trails off, shaking his head.

Jungkook sits next to you on the bed. ‘I’m sorry I laughed at you.’

‘It’s ok,’ you say. You swipe at your tearstained face. ‘Did you get it?’

‘Promise I did,’ Jungkook says. ‘Cross my heart. That fucker isn’t bothering you again.’

‘Where did you put him?’ you ask. ‘In the bin?’

‘Nah. Chucked him out the window,’ Jungkook says. ‘Fuck Spiderman.’

‘Fuck Spiderman,’ you echo.

‘Listen, if you have a spider problem again just call me, ok? Or you can text if you’re worried the spider’s going to hear you. I’ll take care of it.’

Jungkook grins. ‘I won’t put a shirt on either.’

He leans back onto his forearms, and the way his abs stand out make you feel pretty tingly, you’re not going to lie.

‘I don’t mind you staring,’ he tells you. ‘I know I look good.’

You roll your eyes, but he’s been so decent about helping you that you’ll let him have that.

‘What’s the suitcase for, anyway?’ he asks.

You sigh. ‘It’s my annual family get together this Saturday,’ you tell him. ‘My entire extended family go to this beach house and we have dinner together and hang out. It’s been a thing since I was a kid.’

‘Sounds nice,’ he says, but his tone is incredulous.

‘It is nice,’ you say. You smile a little. ‘My grandma cooks and my brother Jin goes fishing and I have so many little cousins now.’

You get up. ‘Of course, there’s the usual round of relatives asking ‘why aren’t you settled down and having babies?’ And my cousin Binna’s a pain, but it’s only once a year.’

‘It’s too bad Junwoo was such an ass,’ you say. ‘I was hoping if I came with a date this year that it’d take some of the pressure off.’

‘I can help,’ Jungkook says.

‘For the last time, Jungkook,’ you say, ‘we are not having a baby together.’

‘Firstly,’ Jungkook says, ‘our baby would be so good looking. But that’s not what I meant.’

He looks tentative for the first time since you met him.

‘I can go with you, if you want.’

***

Your suitcase is by the door, ready to go.

You’re waiting for Jungkook to come by so you can leave together for your family retreat.

You’re not sure what to expect, if you’re being honest. It had felt like a good idea having Jungkook come with you at the time. After all, with the amount of time you’ve spent together over the last few months, he knows recent you as well as anyone.

He’d promised on pain of death and dismemberment that he would refrain from excessive sexual innuendo in front of your elders, but that was all you’d managed to get out of him.

You’re almost afraid to look at him when he knocks on your door.

You start from his feet, in the boots he’s favoured lately, to jeans with no visible rips that you can see in the front, to his fly which is done completely up, to his belt and then a white wife-beater over which he’s layered a black shirt.

When you get to his face he’s smirking at you. 

‘Spent a long time checking out my dick,’ he comments.

‘Just checking your fly was done up,’ you say, semi-truthfully.

He lifts your suitcase for you.

At your expression he says, ‘Don’t worry, you can pay me back by giving me a blow job whilst I’m driving us to the coast.’

‘Sounds dangerous,’ you reply.

‘Jagiya,’ he says, smarmy, ‘Danger is my middle name.’

‘Don’t ever call me that again,’ you threaten.

‘Princess?’ he wonders.

‘Shut up and drive, Jeon Jungkook.’

***

Jungkook’s driving is so steady that you fall asleep and wake only when he stops for petrol.

You look around, disoriented, and see him looking at you through the glass of the rear passenger window.

He opens the door. ‘Want anything from the shop?’

You yawn. ‘No thanks.’

When he gets back in the car, you say, ‘Hey, let me know what I owe you for gas.’

He snorts as he drives out of the petrol station. ‘You know my family owns the biggest manufacturing company in Busan, right?’

You shrug. ‘Money ain’t everything.’

He nods. ‘Yeah, money ain’t everything, if you’re just normal rich. I’m fuck you and all your ancestors rich.’

You say, lightly, ‘I’m never paying my share of takeout again.’

He laughs. ‘That’s what I like about you. You don’t give a shit.’

‘That’s not true,’ you protest. ‘How many people would have chased you across town to track you down when you stole that French ambassador’s diplomatic car?’

He’s quiet. 

The road stretches out in front of you.

‘I’m seeing someone, you know,’ he says.

‘What?’ you scoff. ‘Who’s dating you?’

‘Not like that,’ he tells you. He glances at you in the rearview. 

‘I don’t want you to have to be a crutch for me forever.’

Now it’s your turn to be quiet. 

Since that time when Jungkook came over to hand over his key fob cloning device, he’s dropped various things over at your apartment for various periods of time.

A pen drive.

The keys to his Skyline.

His burner phone.

Once, a black jewelled thong, but you think he was just fucking with you that time.

You cleared a drawer in your hall table for him, and things appear and disappear.

He doesn’t always talk about it, not like that first time. 

‘I’m glad you’re working on it,’ you say, sincerely.

You lean back in your seat. ‘You know you can always drop stuff off in the drawer if you need to.’

‘Oh in the drawer?’ he says, feigning surprise. ‘What about your spare room wardrobe? I left weed and maybe a couple of stacks in there.’

‘Fucking hell,’ you grumble, ‘No wonder all my linens smell like a college dorm.’

You’re both smiling.

‘Thanks for helping me out with this,’ you say. ‘I appreciate it.’

‘How come you couldn’t get one of those Yonsei dipshits to take you?’

You roll your eyes. ‘Firstly, you asshole, I went to SNU.’

Jungkook snickers.

‘Secondly, sad as it is, you’re the only man I’ve spent any time with lately.’

‘That’s what I mean,’ he says. ‘You’re hot, you put up with a lot of shit and you have an ass that won’t quit. How come you’re not dating anyone?’

You look out the window. ‘You’re right, I’m such a catch, why am I single?’

Jungkook asks, ‘Are you really bad in bed?’

You’d laugh if the turn of conversation wasn’t so depressing.

‘Yeah. I’m really bad.’

‘I wouldn’t mind if you were a pillow princess with me,’ Jungkook says. You think he means it as a compliment.

You say, just to move the conversation on, ‘Did you bring any snacks?’

‘Yeah,’ Jungkook says. He reaches into the center console and tosses you a pack of corn chips. ‘Please feed me too.’

You spend the rest of the drive placing corn chips into Jeon Jungkook’s filthy but admittedly beautiful mouth.

***

You and Jungkook are one of the first to arrive at the beach house. Your parents and Jin are already there. 

You’re worried Jungkook might be nervous about meeting your parents, but he surprises you again.

Once introduced, he chats easily with your dad about cars, and you can tell from your dad’s reactions that he likes Jungkook.

Jin nudges you as you follow your parents and Jungkook into the house.

‘Binna’s going to be all over him,’ he says.

Your cousin is beautiful, sexy and could flirt with a rock.

You shrug. ‘Don’t worry, Jinnie. You’re still the prettiest around.’

Jin says, crossly, ‘I wasn’t worried about that.’

You’re both distracted by the arrival of your cousin and her children.

The minivan pulls up almost to the entrance of the beach house, and your cousin Daeun jumps out.

‘Dasom superglued her hand to Jinah’s face,’ she announces grimly. 

She hands you baby Taehyun. ‘Can you watch the baby? I’m taking them to the drugstore to see if they can give us anything to get this shit off.’

‘Mama said a bad word,’ chants Dasom. 

‘I’ll drive you,’ volunteers Jin.

He ushers Daeun and the girls into his car. 

You look for someone to help.

‘Need a hand?’ Jungkook asks, popping up from behind you.

You huff. ‘Can you sort this car out?’

Jungkook appraises the minivan in silence for a moment.

‘Yeah,’ Jungkook replies, serious. ‘It probably won’t sell for much as it is. I’ll have to take it apart to sell it for parts.’

You glare at him. ‘I meant park it, Jungkook, not sell it on the stolen cars black market.’

Jungkook laughs incredulously. ‘Stolen cars black market? What even is that? Have you learnt nothing from the last year?’

Taehyun, in your arms, giggles along with Jungkook. 

You can’t believe you’re being ridiculed simultaneously by both a baby and the grown-ass man you’re babysitting.

Jungkook’s still chuckling to himself as he maneuvres the minivan expertly into the space beside his car.

You can see him through the window, the asshole.

***

Jin hadn’t been wrong about Binna being interested in Jungkook. To be fair, even happily married Daeun had given him a second look.

Even your conservative grandmother had looked past all his visible tattoos and piercings and declared him a good boy.

You’re pretending not to notice as Binna, sitting on the other side of Jungkook at the dinner table, leans into Jungkook’s arm as she reaches for the green beans.

Your Auntie Rina fixes you with a look. 

‘I’m so glad you finally found a man,’ she says. ‘We were so worried you’d be single forever.’

Beside you, Jungkook stiffens. 

‘I wasn���t worried,’ says your mother from opposite Jungkook. ‘Better no man than the wrong man.’

‘It’s true,’ sniffs Auntie Rina. ‘Who was that awful boyfriend of yours who kept asking if you really wanted more helpings? As though there’s anything wrong with your weight…’

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. She isn’t saying anything she hasn’t said before, to be fair.

Jungkook, beside you, nudges his full glass of soju towards you. 

‘Is your car the 2019 model outside?’ he asks your aunt. ‘I know a man who can fix it for you.’

‘Fix it?’ Auntie Rina asks.

‘Yeah. Looks like it has a flat tire,’ Jungkook says, wide-eyed, all innocence. 

Your eyes meet his, and you choke back a laugh. 

As soon as the conversation moves on you turn to Jungkook. ‘Does it really have a flat tire?’ you ask, under your breath.

Jungkook leans so close his lips brush your ear, making your skin prickle. 

‘I’ll make sure it does,’ he promises. 

After dinner, you excuse yourself to get some air and find Jungkook sitting on the steps leading down to the sand, behind the house smoking a cigarette.

You sit next to him. 

‘Thank you,’ you tell him. ‘I hope this isn’t too awful.’

He just smiles, exhales. 

‘I’m enjoying it,’ he says simply.

There’s a breeze blowing in from the sea, ruffling his hair. 

He’s so pretty like this you’d take a picture if you weren’t worried he’d never let you hear the end of it.

Jungkook reaches out, curls a finger in a lock of your hair.

He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t get a chance to.

You lean forward, close your eyes and kiss him.

It’s short and it’s lovely. 

You start to pull away, but he cups the side of your face and kisses you back.

His lips are soft, and he kisses you slow, like he wants to learn the shape of your lips with his own.

He hums, deep in his chest, as his lips meet yours. 

For all the crass sexual comments he’s made to you over the last year, Jeon Jungkook’s kisses are undemanding, sweet.

When he pulls away, you’re both breathless.

His cigarette glows on the step next to him, forgotten.

‘I knew I’d like kissing you,’ he tells you. 

You look down at his hand, somehow entwined with yours.

‘Are you holding my hand?’ you ask.

‘Yeah. You’re a little sweaty but I don’t mind,’ he tells you.

He laughs when you try to pull away. 

‘Do you want to come to my room?’ you ask.

He hesitates. 

‘I’d like to, but you know, I’m really good at fucking, are you going to be able to keep your voice down?’

‘Shut up, I’ve changed my mind,’ you say, getting up.

He tugs you back down. ‘Hey.’

He waits until you’re looking at him.

‘If you really want me there, I’d love to go to your room,’ he tells you.

For once, he sounds completely serious.

‘Yeah. Come.’

***

You’d been a bit worried it might be awkward, but true to form, Jungkook jumps into your bed and pats the covers like he’s the one inviting you into your own bed.

‘It’s my bed,’ you grumble, but he just laughs. 

He kisses you again, his mouth warm over yours. He tastes like the soju he’d been drinking, and he hums when you part your lips to taste more of him.

His tongue licks into your mouth, and when you run your hands over his shoulders he slips his shirt over his head. 

He stops you when your hands go to the hem of your top to do the same.

‘Can I?’ he asks.

You nod, and raise your arms to help.

‘Fuck,’ he murmurs. He’s staring at your breasts. ‘I’m going to need to cum on your tits as my last dying wish.’

‘Jeon Jungkook, shut the fuck up.’

‘Screaming my name already,’ he teases, but he starts kissing down the curve of your neck and the whine that falls from your lips is involuntary.

He hums approvingly as your arms tighten around his shoulders.

He dips his head between your breasts and then nips over the curve of your left breast.

He reaches around your back to unhook your bra, waits until you nod to undo it. 

‘Pretty,’ he says, then he’s sucking a hickey into your skin, laving with his tongue when you whine in protest.

He’s hard. You can feel him even through the layers of clothing as he grinds his hips on yours.

You tuck the tips of your fingers into the waistband of his jeans and tug. He kisses you again, then pushes up onto his knees on your bed.

He unbuttons, slips his jeans down, and holy fuck, it’s not like you haven’t seen him in his boxer briefs before, but it’s a whole different ball game when he’s looking down at you, heat in his eyes and his dick so hard your mouth waters at the sight of it.

No pun intended.

Jungkook pushes your hands away when they go to your own waistband.

 ‘Let me do it,’ he says. 

He tugs your jeans down over your ass and thighs.

‘Fuck,’ he breathes. ‘These silky panties look even better on you.’

You press a hand over his open mouth.

‘Shut up and fuck me,’ you say. 

You trail your hand over the length of him in his briefs, and then he’s moving fast, fumbling with his jeans.

He pulls out a strip of condoms and catches your eye.

You giggle at how ridiculous he looks, and a moment later, he’s laughing too.

‘How many times —‘

You’re cut off by his mouth on yours.

‘Many. I’ll fuck you as many times as you want,’ he tells you, breath hot on your cheek.

He nudges your thigh with his. ‘Spread.’

He fits himself between your legs and kisses you again. 

The blunt head of him nudges you, and you don’t realise you’re holding your breath until he’s in you all the way and you’re dizzy with pleasure.

He buries his head in your neck. 

‘Fuck. You feel so fucking good,’ he groans.

He moves, a slow stroke that makes you arch into him.

You moan his name, and he moves again, rocking his hips against yours, deep, hard.

You close your eyes but realise what a mistake that was when you open them again and see how beautiful Jeon Jungkook looks when he’s fucking you.

He hooks a forearm around your thighs and drags you to the edge of the bed so he can stand and fuck you.

Fuck, how have you never realised how strong he is?

He smirks at you, and you’d want to slap it off his face except he’s doing something with his hips now that’s making the pleasure spiral and you’re two short steps from —-

He lowers his mouth to yours again and then you’re coming, legs wrapped around his hips, his chest flattening yours, his sweat all over you. 

He murmurs what sounds like approval as he fucks you through it.

You gasp his name and he groans, fucking you harder, speeding up and then slowing until he comes, buried deep inside you.

He pulls out, yanks off the condom with a whine and ties it off, dropping it on the floor carelessly. He collapses down next to you, panting. 

For a moment you’re both quiet.

Then he says, ‘Shit. That was way better than jerking off with those panties I stole.’

You slap him on the chest. ‘Shut up, asshole.’

‘Stop flirting with me. I need a minute before we can go again.’

Jungkook grins at you but he’s still got an arm around your hips and his thigh slotted between yours so you can’t be too mad.

***

You wake up to bright sunshine right in your face even though you drew the drapes last night before you went to bed because Jeon Jungkook is halfway in your open window.

You sit up, confused as hell. 

‘What the fuck—‘

You can’t work out if he’s coming or going.

You get your answer then he drops into your room with a thud.

‘Sorry,’ he says. ‘Forgot to slash those tires last night.’

‘You didn’t?!’

‘Keep your voice down,’ he advises. ‘We don’t want her to know it was me.’

You’re speechless.

‘Did you seriously just —‘

‘Don’t finish your question so I don’t have to answer it,’ Jungkook tells you.

He’s getting undressed again, kicking off his shoes, staring hard at your bare chest half covered by the duvet.

He jumps back into bed with you and you greet him with another kiss.

His hand trails over the curve of your breasts.

‘Let’s not talk about it again,’ you say.

‘Yeah,’ he agrees.

‘Do you want to come on my tits?’

Jungkook groans. ‘Fuck, yeah.’

***

You’re back at home in your apartment unpacking when the familiar banging on your door starts.

You yank the door open. ‘You literally just left, Jeon Jungkook,’ you complain, before you realise he’s not alone.

Jeon Mido, Jungkook’s mother and your boss, is standing outside your door and you’ve still got sand in your hair from fucking Jungkook on the beach before you left the beach house. 

Jungkook adjusts the collar of his shirt in a vain attempt to hide the hickey you gave him.

‘I’m sorry,’ you apologise. ‘I wasn’t expecting you.’

Jeon Mido smiles graciously at you. 

‘Jungkook tells me he met your parents over the weekend,’ she says.

‘They liked him a lot,’ you tell her, wondering where she’s going with this.

She nods. ‘Good. I thought maybe you’d like to come to dinner with us tomorrow night. My husband would love to meet you.’

You’re so surprised you can’t do anything but accept.

Jeon Mido smiles at you and takes her leave.

You turn to Jungkook. ‘What was that?’

Jungkook shrugs, shaking sand out of his jeans pockets. 

‘She’s always said she wants to meet my girlfriends.’

He’s not looking at you directly, and the tips of his ears are red.

‘What?’

‘I don’t know,’ he says, finally.  ‘I’ve never had a girl I’m dating meet my parents before.’

‘We’re not dating!’ 

He’s looking at you now. ‘Aren’t we?’

The way he’s looking at you gives you pause.

‘We see each other every day. We hang out at each others’ places. You help me with my problems and I help you with yours. I’ve met your family.’

He smiles. ‘And you’re the most fucking amazing girl I’ve ever met.’

You stare at him.

‘Unless,’ he continues, ‘you just want to be fuck buddies. I’m down with that too.’

He looks like he’s about to turn away so you grab his arm and tug him towards you. 

‘Ok, Jeon Jungkook, I’ll date you,’ you say.

He nods. ‘I thought so.’

He leans down so you can kiss the smug smirk off his face.

©hamsterclaw 2024

With thanks to bloviating-vy for introducing me to the phrase 'fuck you rich' and the works of Smashy for the immortal phrase 'Yonsei dipshits'.

[scarletssienna]

Say, “Don’t go”

Summary - It’s been three years since you and Wanda saw each other last - Three long years. You were as good as dead to her. Figuratively, and unfortunately, literally. 6k word count

Warnings - Hurt-Comfort, angst, mommy wanda, sub!reader, grinding, car sex, fingering, hair-pulling, oral, biting, fighting, scars, AU

AN - Hey guys! Sorry, it’s been a second since I’ve posted. I cannot write anything happy apparently? It’s all just been angst. I have many ideas for some future one-shots and possible series tho! (Not all angst dw)

18+, minors + men dni

Working for the FBI was no easy feat. It often led to undercover work in many different forms. Typically you’d expect to be undercover a couple hours at most. So it was unexpected when you got a case requiring a longer period of undercover work. 3 months at most and you’d be out. This case was different from the rest. You’d been tracking a mob boss for years, every time you’d think you’d get close he’d disappear. Every time he’d come back worse than before. The goal was to gain some trust in the community and work your way up, that way you could finally track him down with confirmation. It wasn’t ideal. It was highly dangerous but you’d been training for this your entire career. When you broke the news to Wanda she was less than displeased. Since the two of you had gotten together in college you’d been nearly inseparable. Your names always followed one another’s and you were practically glued to the hip. 

Sure, you’d trained for undercover work like this, but the risk was great. There was a good chance of having to participate in illegal activities or getting hurt. Because of that, Wanda was very unhappy with you and the decision to go. The idea of being apart from you for a week, nonetheless 3 months sounded awful. You couldn’t exactly turn down this offer though. You’d waited to catch this guy for years and now it was finally within your grasp. You were too far in. The day of you leaving came quicker than anyone could have prepared for and it left you with a sinking feeling in your gut and Wanda distraught.

“I have to go, Wands.” You pleaded, trying anything you could to get her to understand. She looked away from you, wiping the tears from her face.

“No, you don’t. You could stay. We can figure it out.” She sniffled and held back a whine. “Together.” She sounded like a child begging for a toy in a store, although this was much more real. You stepped back towards her again. She stepped away but instead backed herself against a wall. 

“Wands, look at me.” You begged softly as your hands reached up, cupping her face in your hands. When she looked into your eyes, you nearly broke right then and there. The pure sadness she held was unbearable. Her green eyes were glossy - her mascara ran just below her bottom lashes. The sinking pit in your stomach grew as you opened your mouth to speak. No words came out, causing her to scowl slightly. Instead, you leaned in, kissing her as passionately as you could. She kissed back, her hands grabbing at your face, pulling you in as close as she could. When the tears began again, you had to pull back, your head falling on her shoulder. It did a poor job of muffling the sobs that left your mouth. 

“Please.” She begged. “Stay.” Her hands wrapped around you tightly, holding you against her, afraid to let go. Her fingers tangled in your shirt, creasing the fabric in her grip.

“I love you so much.” You said as you pulled back a tiny bit, just enough for your eyes to meet again. It was what confirmed it for Wanda. You were leaving. There was no more pleading and begging she could do. You had made up your mind. Her hands detached from your shirt, and she shook her head. Her arms went to her sides as her head rested behind her on the wall. “I love you, Wanda.” You repeated the words the two of you had shared hundreds of times. But this time was different: she didn’t repeat the words back. Her eyes just stared back at you, glossy, broken. Your hand dropped to your stomach, holding it slightly as the sickening feeling took over. It hit you that she wouldn’t be saying it back this time. You pushed past the billowing feeling that took over your stomach and chest. You leaned forward to kiss her one last time, but she didn’t kiss back. So, you moved and kissed her cheek tenderly before stepping away. She held her breath as a single tear rolled down her face. She held eye contact with you until you walked away, finally breaking it. You felt her gaze on you; only when you rounded the corner did it cease. She sank to her knees, her hands covering her face as she muffled her sobs. You carried on, leaving the house despite everything inside you urging you to stay. 

After three weeks of you being gone a news story broke out of an FBI agent found dead while undercover. The story that was released was gruesome. Wanda fell distraught. She was distraught you had left in the first place, but at least she had known you would be coming home. Now, with this no longer being true she was sent into more of a fragile state than ever. You had no idea that was going to happen. You had accounted for a few months of being away - at most. So it was a surprise to you too when you got a call one early morning saying there was a change of plans in your mission. It had to seem real. And to everyone else, it was real. Wanda’s grief of the love of her life was real. The woman hardly slept, yet she barely left bed. Bathing was a chore and food was an even worse one. Nightmares were common. These grew exponentially after everyone's and her own better judgment, she read your case file. She saw your name, the bloody image of ‘your’ body, the details and descriptors of how you had died, all of it, stamped a closed case. You were now deceased.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

It’s been three years since you and Wanda saw each other - three long years. You were as good as dead to her. Figuratively, and unfortunately, literally. 

An old file was placed on Wanda’s desk one morning as she worked. 

“What’s this?” Wanda asked as confusion wrinkled across her face. She looked up, pushing her glasses to the top of her head, making eye contact with Natasha. 

“Something I thought you might be interested in.” Natasha started as she reached down and opened the file. Wanda recognized the case immediately, her bottom lip quickly tugged into her mouth as she bit down. Natasha’s fingers slid across the pages in search of a word. She paused, her fingertips halting just beneath it - Deceased. She pointed out the word, causing Wanda to flip her glasses back down, looking at the papers, curious. She just nodded and shrugged, not recognizing where it was from. 

“Okay? What about it?” Wanda pushed, trying not to get upset at the lack of details about what she was supposed to be looking at. Natasha reached over, setting another file on top opening it, flipping through, and then pointing out several points throughout the pages. 

“They’re not dead,” Natasha said while shaking her head. She sighed and knocked on the desk once as a sign she was leaving before walking out of the room. Wanda watched her exit before looking back into the folders in front of her, her face still riddled with confusion. Her jaw dropped slack as she realized Natasha was right. You're not dead.

Wanda looked through the second file on her desk quizzically. You had been dead. What she read proved otherwise. She let out a silent gasp as she read further. 

There was a file opened about a woman who was close to the man you had gone after. It was you. Though the people above in the FBI knew that. They just had to keep it under wraps for your safety. The case had been made available recently as the mob boss was dead. The woman in the file had shot him and escaped. The more Wanda read about the woman, the more she realized it was you. Techniques you had used in the past for interrogation, fighting techniques, and just genuine physical mannerisms. The woman had shown up just a month after you had been declared deceased. The thing that finally confirmed it to be you for Wanda stopped her in her tracks. There were blurry security images from the shooting. You had always managed to stay away from cameras and any photos taken staying in hiding made your undercover position easier. Wanda would always recognize you. You had to be confident you could return when this was revealed. 

She immediately reached for her phone, dialing your number and letting it ring twice before she realized. The number had been down for years and you wouldn’t just pick up like that. She set her phone down and pushed her chair back. While gnawing on her bottom lip she was in a shocked state of not knowing what to do. She left the office quickly, going home. The second she pulled into the driveway she broke down into tears. All the feelings from years ago came back. It felt unreal, untrue. She couldn’t believe it, and not in the way of denial. But protecting herself. She couldn’t go through the grief again. She dragged herself inside and simply dropped her stuff by the door. She had moved on from you. It was hard, but she had done it. 

All this brought up those emotions, she wasn’t sure how to cope. She brought herself to the bedroom and stripped off her clothes, dropping them sporadically around the room before going to the shower. She paused in front of the mirror, trying to contain her tears. She dried her face with the hand towel and sniffled before turning on the water to the shower. She stood outside the shower, waiting for it to heat up. As she stood the tears began again. When the water was to her liking she entered and stood under the water, trying to wash away all the feelings. They didn’t wash away as she had hoped. Slowly, she sunk to the ground, holding her legs just as she had done when you left. The feeling of sadness and heartbreak was all too familiar. 

The next week things were off. No one had brought you up. Not that they usually did. But Wanda had hoped someone would. Maybe if someone brought it up it would give her an excuse to share what she had found - Without fear of sounding crazy. The first year after you’d left, Wanda was in such a deep state of grief. She’d often bring up new cases, victims, or missing people, saying it may be you. She had seen the evidence of your death, but after the closed casket funeral and no true closure in the situation, it drove her wild. She settled for focusing on her work this week, pushing people away. She had to believe you were alive. The counter thought was too much. 

When you returned to Quantico you wanted nothing more than to see Wanda. Unfortunately, there was paperwork on paperwork that needed to be approved before doing so. On top of that, you also had to go through a medical check and many physical exams. While the FBI had known what you were doing, they couldn’t just pull you away for the maintenance of your health. It was debatably the longest week of your life. You spend much of it waiting in the temporary apartment they had set up for you. It was boring, mundane, and painfully long as all you could think about was seeing Wanda. When you got the go-ahead Friday night you were frantic. At a loss of what to wear, who to call, and where to even find Wanda you were lost. Decidedly, you called the only number you could seem to remember at the time, Natashas. She answered on the third ring your call from a club. She hasn't answered nearly as fast as you would have liked but supposed it was fine, this time. 

“Where is Wanda?” You wasted no time on formalities, impatiently waiting for a response. You paced back and forth between the kitchen and living room as you gnawed your bottom lip into your mouth. Natasha didn't know who was calling but answered anyway. She listened as she stepped outside. 

“Who is this? You must know that this is terrible timing. Whatever this is better be important.” She insisted as she leaned against the cold brick wall, not waiting long before you replied again. 

“Natasha.” You answered simply. “Where is Wanda?” You repeated your question with a firm tone. Suddenly, it hit Natasha on who you were. A gasp left her mouth as she stood up straight.

“No way!” She practically yelled. Of course, she knew you were alive. She had known the whole time. But it had been a long time since the two of you had spoken real words. Now here you were, asking for Wanda. Before you could yell again into the phone, she remembered your question. “She’s probably still at work. She’s been working like crazy this last week.” You didn’t even bother saying anything more before hanging up the phone. 

You pulled up the maps app on your phone and typed in Quantico. When you saw it was just a little over a mile you decided to run. You were not about to just wait around for an Uber that was for sure. Was running the best decision as it was 10:30 pm and you were last in the area several years ago? Maybe not. But you were in a wired state and would do it anyway. When you arrived you hurried to the elevator. You grumbled as you went to hit the button and realized you needed your key card. Shuffling through your pockets in a frantic state you grabbed it and swiped it, pressing the floor you needed to go. Thoughts began to flood your mind as you imagined Wanda's reaction. What if she was mad at you? What if she never wanted to see you again? You didn't have much time to worry though as the elevator dinged and opened. As the doors opened they slowly revealed the red hair you've been dying to see. An exhausted Wanda was standing outside the elevator waiting to enter. You took a second to register her in front of you, still as a statue. She hardly even looked your way, not recognizing you through the exhaustion. She shuffled into the elevator and rested her head against the wall, reaching to push the first-floor button when you cut her off. 

“Wanda,” you said, causing her head to snap towards you. Her face was riddled with confusion before her jaw dropped as she realized who was standing before her. Without a second thought, she flung herself into your arms. You held her tightly against you as your arms wrapped around her closely. “God, Wanda.” You murmured under your breath as you pressed your face into her hair, inhaling slightly. You could have melted at her touch, her scent, her everything. It was exhilarating. Her face nuzzled into your neck as if it was a perfect puzzle piece. Her soft sobs of joy are swallowed and silenced by your closeness. The doors to the elevator closed but the machine stayed in place as it hadn't been directed anywhere.

“Is it you?” She asked after several moments, pulling her face back. When her green, teary eyes met yours you smiled bigger than you had in forever. 

“It's me, Wands,” you said as you looked up into her eyes, causing her to grin. You reached both hands up, cupping her face as you wiped away her tears with your thumbs. Softly, you pressed a kiss to her nose. Her nose wrinkled at the kiss and she giggled before leaning forward and kissing you, passionately. The kiss only lasted a few moments before she was tangled around you again closely. 

“How? What?” Suddenly she began to stutter out. “Where?” The number of questions she had was too many and they were too much right now. While biting down on your bottom lip you shook your head. “Soon, so very soon.” You whispered as you placed a kiss on her temple. “I’ll tell you all about it soon.” When she began to protest your answer you kissed her softly, causing her to sigh and give in, just happy you were here. 

“Where have you been staying?” She asked before looking at the elevator as it began to move down. Slowly, she detached herself from you causing you to release her from your arms. Instead, she settled on holding your arm tightly, afraid to let go. 

“They set me up with a temporary apartment not too far from here.” You spoke in a quiet voice as the elevator doors opened. The two of you exited, carefully walking past the person entering. 

“Let me take you home.” Wanda offered. She wanted to see you for as long as she physically could but knew it was late and unrealistic to expect you to stay out doing who knows what at the spur of the moment. She looked at you as she stepped closer once again, not having let go of your arm. Suddenly, she began to stutter. “By home, I mean your apartment, not my, our, home I mean. Unless you want to go there? I mean I wouldn't mind at all! But also I would understand if you wanted to go back to,” You cut her rambling off with a soft kiss. 

“I would love to go back to our home,” You started, causing her eyes to light up. “But not tonight.” You finished and the glimmer in her eyes faded as she quickly looked away. Feeling the sudden need to clarify, you spoke quickly. “There's still some things that need to be settled and I've been running around too much, I don’t want to disturb you.”

She agreed and you went towards her car, both of you getting in when Wanda finally pried her body away from yours. It was quickly returned when you both had gotten in, her hand reaching for your leg as she drove. Your hand rested on hers. Despite having tons to talk about you drove in silence: quiet directions were the only words shared as the radio played softly in the background as you watched out the window. She drove slowly down the road, a few under the speed limit as she wanted to soak up every moment she could with you. Her hand slowly rose your thigh as she drove, her fingertips playing softly with the inner hem of your pants. There was a sudden moment of desperation that came among the two of you. Wanda pulled into the nearest empty parking lot and parked the car. The second the car was put into park the two of you practically launched yourselves at each other, kissing one another passionately. Your hands reached for her waist as hers tangled in your hair. 

Her tongue slipped across your bottom lip, eagerly seeking entrance. You obliged without a second thought, a moan immediately muffed into the kiss. Your hand snaked under her shirt, groping and grabbing at her chest through her bra. She groaned into your mouth, tugging your hair as she pulled you closer. 

“Fuck.” You mumbled as you pulled back from the kiss, locking eyes with her. You hummed and tugged at her shirt. “Get over here.” You murmured as you reached down to unbuckle your seatbelt. You moved the seat back and laid it down before turning your back to the windshield and shifting towards the front of the car. There was some awkward shifting and moving as Wanda moved into the passenger's seat, settling and leaning back in the seat. She reached forward and grabbed your shirt, pulling you on top of her. 

Your lips met instantly again and your hips found a slow pace of grinding onto her lap. Her hands reached down to your thighs, gripping them tightly as she slid her fingertips inward, dipping towards the insides of your thighs. With a groan, you broke the kiss and began kissing at her neck. Your hip movements came to a cease as you moved off her lap, now between her legs. You grumbled as the floor wasn’t as forgiving as you’d expected the fabric-covered metal to be. That wasn’t about to stop you though as you reached towards her pants. She helped with the buttons and zipper, before lifting her hips, allowing you to tug down her pants and panties with one quick motion. You moaned at the sight in front of you. Her delectable cunt waiting in front of you. She reached down, tangling a hand in your hair as she began to push your head to where she needed it most. You would never deprive her of what she wanted. Especially when your mouth practically watered for her. 

“Come on Detka. Don’t be shy, Mommy remembers how much you love eating her pussy.” She spoke sweetly, a smile on her face as she looked down at you. Your face turned to a deep blush as she spoke. In an attempt to avoid embarrassment, you settled your head between her thighs happily. Your tongue made contact with her slowly. Your tongue moved up her clit in a fashion that made her squirm. Her grip on your hair tightened as her hips rose against your face. You moaned against her as your hands gripped her thighs. The way your tongue swirled and ground against her caused her to moan out above you. “Fuck Detka.” She pulled at your hair and she let out a loud moan. “Oh, I’ve missed your tongue.” She said as her eyes screwed shut and threw her head back. You looked up from your position, smiling at the sight above you. One of your hands slid between her legs and quickly slipped inside of her. Your tongue directed all of your attention to her clit as your fingers curled and pumped inside of her. With the addition of your fingers, she rose quickly to an orgasm. Her hands tugged at your hair as her hips lifted and she let out a loud moan as she reached her peak. When she settled you took a moment to remove your fingers and lap up what you could before looking up at her with a cheeky grin.

“Fuck you’re hot.” You said as you grinned, biting the inside of your cheek before pulling your fingers to your mouth, and licking them clean. She watched you, awestruck and tired as she caught her breath. Her grip loosened in your hair and her hands reached down to your face with a new tenderness. She lifted your chin to look at you with a smile. You smiled back up at her before biting your bottom lip. You wiped your face with your shirt in a playful manner before shifting a little. She giggled tiredly and pressed her fingertip to the tip of your nose with a smile. You dried your fingers on your pants before pulling Wanda's pants and panties up carefully. She slowly shifted her body, tiredly allowing you to help her. When her pants were back in place you crawled onto her lap, straddling her. You began to pepper soft kisses across her jaw and neck. 

“I love you, Wands.” You whispered as you settled back in her lap, your head resting below her chin as her arms wrapped around you keeping you close.

“I love you too, Detka.” She said with a tired smile on her face. The slow patterns Wanda traced on your back felt hypnotizing as you never wanted to leave this moment. You had to though, so after a little while of sitting together you lifted your head. She protested with a grumble and tangled her hand in your hair, urging you to lay your head back down. Her eyes didn't open from her relaxed state. 

“Wanda let me drive us home.” You said as you placed a kiss on her lips. She nodded and slowly let go of you. You reached down and adjusted the seat so it was in a safer upright position before scooting back on her lap a little and buckling her seatbelt for her. You then smiled as her tired eyes looked into yours. “Keep looking at me like that I’m gonna have to eat you out again.” you teased, causing her to grin and giggle. You climbed into the driver's seat and set the car to defog, letting it rest momentarily as you traced patterns on Wanda's leg. When the car was defogged enough you drove the two of you home. 

Pulling into the driveway you parked the car in the garage before getting out. You hurried to Wanda's side before she could even open the door. You opened the door for her before reaching down and unclicking her seatbelt.

“Can I carry you?” you asked, causing her to grin a little out of surprise. She raised her eyebrows at you as she began to question. 

“Is that a question of your physical capabilities or are you asking for permission?” She teased as she looked up at you tiredly. “Because you have my permission, but Detka I might be too heavy,” she started but you cut her off, carefully lifting her out of the seat, watching to make sure she didn’t bump her head. She gasped surprised as she quickly hid her face in your neck, flustered. You carried her inside before setting her on the steps. Gently, you began taking off her shoes and jacket for her, hanging them up on the hook before returning and picking her up bridal style. She laughed when you picked her up again but let it happen as she wrapped her arms around your neck tightly and kissed your jaw. You brought her to the bedroom and laid her down. She made quick work of snuggling up with the pillows in the bed. 

“Don’t get too comfy Wands.” You teased as you went to the closet to find some pajamas. You bit your lip, pausing as you noticed your side of the closet had stayed nearly the same as when you had left. Slowly, you began looking through your shirts. Your fingers danced slowly over the fabric, brushing your fingertips along the patterns of one of your favorite shirts. You carefully slipped the shirt off the hanger. You glanced at the closet door, knowing Wanda’s eyes were on you before stripping your shirt off. As you reached to unclip your bra you heard her call out. 

“Come here.” Wanda’s voice was husky and full of sleep. You abided anyway and picked your shirt and a shirt for her before walking towards her. You set the shirts on her bed, blushing a light shade of pink as you stood next to her. She propped herself up a little more and reached towards you, spinning you to face away from her. Her hands slid up your back slowly before stopping at your bra. She took only a moment, unclipping your bra. You felt your breath hitch in your throat as she unclipped your bra. Her hands then slid down your back, her fingertips tracing across some scars she had never seen before. You flinched at the touch at first before relaxing into it. While biting your bottom lip you let the bra fall to the ground before turning back around to face her. She smiled at your body, only looking at you with love and adoration as she took in the sight. Her eyes on you made you blush a deeper red. When she noticed you getting more flustered she directed her attention lower. Her hands slid from your sides to the loops of your pants. Moving you closer with a soft tug she undid the button before looking into your eyes as she did the zipper. You shuffled out of the pants before reaching for her. Carefully you repeated her motions. Your fingers danced around the button to her pants as you undid them, carefully helping her slide out of them. While she took off her shirt you took a moment to fold the clothes you two had discarded. You smiled as you looked back towards her again, reaching your arms around her. Your hands slid behind her back and unclasped her bra. She let the garment fall slowly as it was now your turn to admire the sight in front of you. You sat on the edge of the bed next to her, letting a small smile show as you handed her one of your t-shirts. You pulled yours on as she put hers on. As sexual as the actions may have seemed to an outside perspective they were purely done out of innocence and genuine care. 

“Can I sleep next to you?” You spoke for the first time in several minutes. A downward smile tugged on Wanda’s lips as she grabbed at your shirt. 

“Please do.” She said as she nodded, tapping the side next to her, your side of the bed. You smiled at her response and bit your lip as you pulled the covers back. You crawled over top of her, causing her to giggle as you plopped down next to her. You took a moment to dramatically fluff up your pillow before lying down. She waited, teasingly impatient. The second your head hit the pillow Wanda’s head was right there next to you hardly inches away. Her arms wrapped around you closely and one leg pushed between yours, essentially tangling your bodies together. The closeness felt wonderful. You brushed your nose against hers with a smile on your face. She smiled and closed her eyes, feeling content and at peace for the first time in a long time. Gently you pressed a kiss to her lips. You didn’t close your eyes just yet. You watched her instead. Watching how her eyes fluttered tiredly, her breath slowly making her chest rise and fall, her breathing getting slow as she drifted asleep. When you were sure she was asleep you finally gave in to the tiredness yourself, letting your eyes close and sleep take over you. 

The next morning when you woke up Wanda was stretched out next to you but still clinging onto your shirt with one of her hands. You smiled at the sight, biting back a big grin as you watched her. Before, you were rarely awake before Wanda. She liked to get up early to get a head start on her day. Now, that had been you for the past few years. You scooted towards her, wrapping your body around her as you began to kiss her cheek and neck playfully. She stirred in her sleep and luckily remembered about the night prior before freaking out. She rolled on top of you and grinned, her eyes not yet open as she snuggled into your chest. 

“Shh, I’m sleeping.” She whispered as she wrapped her body around you. You smiled and chuckled at her. You wrapped one arm around her back, sliding it under her shirt as you rubbed up and down the bare skin. Your other hand went to her hair, tangling it softly as you massaged her scalp. She hummed and leaned into your touch, slowly falling back into sleep. While kissing the top of her head you whispered. 

“I’ll lay here a little while then I have some stuff to do okay Wands?” You wanted to work out and return some phone calls for work to get it out of the way. She just nodded and hugged you closer. You let her stay in that position for longer than you’d planned before slowly moving her next to you again and climbing out of bed. You kissed her head before going downstairs. You paused at the end of the stairs, taking a deep breath as you knew you were about to take on walking through your old house. Just as you were about to walk through the house suddenly you couldn’t do it. You put on your shoes before going for a run outside. You ran all around smelling the fresh air. It was like no time had passed. You ran a quick run before returning home to get a weight lift in. Before, you seldom did cardio and weights on the same day. But you had a new routine that made you the most fit you’d ever been. The home gym was in a room connected to the garage. You went there and did a routine before heading up to the bedroom to shower. Wanda was sitting on the bed, pillows propped up behind her as she scrolled on her phone. 

“Wow,” Wanda muttered under her breath as she saw you walk into the room, your sweaty state extremely obvious. You laughed at her reaction and dried your face off the sweat with the small towel that had been draped across your shoulder. 

“Sorry, I know I’m gross. I’m about to take a shower. Maybe you want to join me?” You asked, thinking her reaction was for you being gross but you didn’t want to pass up the opportunity of showering with her. 

“No!” She said quickly, causing you to crinkle your nose at her. She realized what she said. “I mean yes! I want to shower with you! Not no! Not yet.” She said as she got out of bed and walked towards you. Your eyebrow turned upward as she walked towards you.

“Not yet?” You questioned as your hands reached out to her waist and then slid down to her hips, holding her softly.

“Not yet.” She whispered, repeating you with a small grin on her face. She leaned down and kissed your neck softly. Your hands squeezed at her hips as you pulled her body up against yours. She bit at your neck testingly causing you to yelp and flinch in surprise. She pulled her face back to look you in the eyes. “Too much?” She asked, her hands snaking across your body. Quickly, you shook your head.

“More.” You let out in only a whisper. Her grin returned and she stepped back, grabbing you by the shirt and dragging you to the bed.

[jasonsknight3]

Unwanted help

AK jason Todd x sweet waitress reader

Warning: Contains violence, slight gore, aaaaaaand weapons (figured I needed to start putting warnings.)

Gotham had always been a dark place with even darker shadows. A sweetheart like yourself would be swallowed whole, or at least, you should have been. Lucky for you, you’ve only been subjected to unwanted catcalling and unauthorized touches. Most of it happens at your diner job. However, most of the women there waitressing had been there a long time and came to your rescue. Tell them off if you will because unfortunately you are the shiny new toy. Originally you came to Gotham for a college education, and to get away from home. To your dismay you had to drop out. Not because you were dumb or anything it’s just, well, you didn’t have the money. It just didn’t work out. Your life has come to be what it is now. Being stuck in a waitressing job. At least you made good tips and enough money to still live in your apartment.

After a harsh shift you were instructed to lock up the dinner. Which wasn’t supposed to be your job tonight. It required more effort than people would think. Make sure dishes were done, the place was clean, turn off lights, make sure chairs were put up, all the other micro things that added up. As soon as you locked that final glass door you hastily made your way to your bus stop. “No. No, no, no, no!” You cry as you see the bus just pull away from your stop. “Wait!” You shouted running even faster only for your desperation to be ignored. “No.” You weezed as you came to a stop, your hands resting on the top of your knees as you fought to catch your breath. Sitting up you looked around, nothing but an eerily quiet street, dim streetlights, and trash. This could easily become a dangerous situation for you. You weighed your options. Taxi was out of the question, you learned from others not to carry cash on you, you couldn’t go back to the dinner, it was closed and it’s not like anyone could help you there and you boss would tanya Hyde if he saw you sleeping in a booth the next morning, no one you knew was awake at this hour, that left only one option. Walking. Taking a breath you prepare yourself for the journey home clutching your purse close.

Cautious was an understatement of your behavior. Looking around Constantly, jumping at tray cats and trash that crinkled in the light wind of the night. About six minutes into your 15 minute walk an extremely alarming sound of someone crashing on the pavement around an alleyway corner. Shortly after the sound of pained groans followed. Your heart hammered in your chest, should you help? What if it was a trick for kidnapping? Should I just leave? You wandered to yourself. Against better judgment peeking around the alley corner you see a man who was crumpled over on the dirty pavement. The man started to get up on his hands and knees, slightly shaking with a groan. His voice sounded odd. Upon closer inspection you notice this man was wearing a red mask that had a slight glow to it, armor, an interesting jacket, and boots. Along with the gray and black suit was red. Blood. An alarmingly large amount of blood stained his gear. Out of instinct you approach him “sir, I’m here to help. I’ll call-“ a soft clicking sound took your attention to his raised hand that had a gun in it. A small gasp escaped your lips. “Get lost.” The man said the mask does not allow any clear emotion to be heard or recognized. Freezing in place you take a breath and continue to talk to him. “You're hurt, bleeding. I’d hate to leave you like this.” You reasoned. “I don’t need nor want your help. Leave the ambulance out of it too.” An odd request but you didn’t worry too much about it at the moment. “Please, you’ll die if I don’t get you help somehow?” You argued. “Very unlikely.” He was certainly stubborn. “Well…” you thought for a moment. “At least let me take you somewhere safe so you can patch up.” The man didn’t reply this time but he lowered the gun and then put it in its holster.

Sticking your hand out to him you hoped to encourage him further to accept help. He looked at it for a moment before getting up himself with a small growl. His legs wobble a little, automatically you rush to his aid tryi go to ease his strain. In a split second she shoved you off hard enough you slammed to the brick wall. You couldn't help but cough and wheeze. Singly he knocked the wind out of you. You honestly would have fallen flat on your back had the wall not been there. “Don’t touch me!” He yelled falling in one knee from the entertainment it took to push you that hard. Still leaning on the wall you catch your breath and push through the itching pain you felt on your back from hitting the rough brick wall. “I wasn’t going to hurt you. I promise.” You explained quietly. He mumbled something as he got back up and started to walk out of the alley. “Lead the way.” He demanded. Cautiously you walk up to him. “Okay, I’ll do that.” Glancing at him you ask. “Is it alright if I give you a hand? Just to make sure you don’t fall.” A moment of silence passed before he sighed and lifted his arm which you went under and had it around your shoulder and started taking him to your home.

A fifteen minute walk turned into a longer one but when you made it to your apartment and got inside you sat him down on the couch. “Go get a med kit if you have it.” He wasn’t very nice to be honest . No manners or since of please and thank you. In your bathroom you searched all the cabinets and finally found the med kit. How would he use it, you didn’t have anything in there besides bandaids- Neosporin, Peroxide, and some burn cream that was in a little rectangular bag. Well at least it’s something you reasoned. When you were in the living room there he was, helmet off, top gear off, and his compression shirt off. Nothing but skin. Skin that had scars, some flat, some slightly rose above the rest of the skin, heck, some of them even looked like the shape of barbed wire. As if sensing your presents he looked at you. A fairly masculine face, hooded iceberg blue eyes, his face has major scars. One that crossed from his cheek over the bridge of his nose and up, two on his lips, and a big J on his left cheek. “Well…” he said expectantly. When you got closer you noticed in his hand he had a needle and thread already working on sewing himself up. Setting the box down on the couch next to him you step back and watch. With tactical precision he was patched up within minutes. “Got any pain meds?” His voice was a little gravely and tired. “Yea, I have some.” Again you moved from your spot and headed for your medicine cabinet. Searching through it you found it, some ibuprofen. Turning around you yelp as your eyes are met with the stranger standing dangerously close to you. As soon as he had your attention his hand reached out and held your chin tight as he yanked you close. Eyes wide you stare into his own. “Listen well. You keep this to yourself. You never saw me. You never saw my face. If I ever…catch wind that you spouted out you saw me, I will not hesitate to kill you. I promise I’ll make it slow.” His grip tightened just to emphasize his point. “Got it?” In your lack of responding, he nodded your head for you. “Is that a yes?” You managed a yes through your squished cheeks. “Good.” Taking the medicine he let go and headed to the living room. After a moment you follow suit. He was putting his shirt back on, along with his gear. “Wait- you should rest.” You protest, you hate the thought of him not making it home safe. “I can handle myself, lady.” With that he put on his jacket and helmet. Opening a window he looked at you “don’t forget, you snitch, I’ll find you.” His voice modulated. As quick as he came he was gone. In the silence you just stared at the window questioning everything. There was something different about him. As scary as he was part of you hoped he’d come back.

You brought him to your home, your safe space, a place he would start to visit often and just maybe call it his own.

Got motivated to do a quick sketch, had to hide the hands by cropping the photo…😭

@eva-sparda20

[latalpavolante]

Grungy Apartment

A small, quite run-down and grungy basement apartment for an ex-prisoner who's trying to start anew.

One Bedroom - One Bathroom

Apartment: Honeydew Houses, Basement, left

Price: ca. § 17,724

Packs: CottageLiving | EcoLifestyle | DiscoverUniversity | GetFamous | CatsAndDogs | CityLiving | GetTogether | GetToWork | Werewolves | Parenthood | Vampires | LaundryDay | BasementTreasures | EverydayClutter

noCC

MoveObjectsOn cheat required

Playtested (I encountered two problems while playtesting; please check the “Known Issues” section under the cut for more info)

The empty version of the apartment building is available on the Sims 4 gallery! (…where you can also find the household I created for this apartment.) I will share the furnished version as soon as all the apartments are finished!

Gallery ID: LaTalpaVolante

You can watch the speed build on my YouTube channel:

More information and backstory under the cut:

Known issues The bed is only accessible from the left side as the path to the right side is unfortunately blocked by the punchbag in the corner (or by its huge footprint, to be precise). So if you want two sims to sleep in the bed, one will either have to scoot over or you'll have to delete the punchbag. (As I only imagined one person to live in this apt., for me it didn't matter that much and it was more important for me to keep the punchbag, but it might be annoying if you want to use it differently.)

And there was a problem with my sim not using the free kitchen counter (I was ranting about it in this post). After an hour of playtesting and almost losing my mind, it seems this was either caused by a bug or by my save being corrupted or something... So you might encounter the same issue or not, but as far as I'm aware, it's not caused by the way the kitchen is built...

Sorry for these inconveniences, everything else should work fine.

Way too long Backstory Ever since he was a teen, Piet was involved in criminal activities. From pickpocketing and shoplifting he eventually got to bigger thefts and burglary. It was basically the only thing he knew, and the people who introduced him to this life felt way more like family than his own one.

But when one of their jobs went wrong, he ended up in prison. Now, some years later, he's been released and needs to find a way to start anew. As he doesn't have his old apartment anymore, he had to find a new place to stay and eventually could rent a cheap, run-down basement flat in the old town of Britechester. Together with his friends, he tried to fix up the place as much as he could and furnish it with what was left from his old belongings and whatever other stuff they could find. The apartment is still grungy and doesn't feel much like a home, but at least there was space for his favourite bands' posters and the old lighthouse painting, and for now that will have to do.

As much as he would love to start completely from scratch and leave his past behind, Piet feels the life he desires is out of reach for him, for various reasons. And with old habits and acquaintances keeping a grip on him, will anything ever actually change or will he end up choosing his old familiar path again?

[paigenoelchas-blog]

Part 3: Seven Minutes

Part 2: One Chance Part 4: Three Weeks

I have two options, both of which are risky.

The first option is to play into his desire, then kick him where it counts and run out of the bedroom and out of the apartment. I don't think I can outrun him and it is still painfully early in the morning. The neighbors won't be awake to offer help.

The other option requires me to grab my cell phone off of the dresser and then run into the bathroom, calling the cops and praying that they can get here before George breaks through the door. I think, I hope, his desire for vengeance and his violent tendencies will cause him to make a mistake.

Unfortunately, the choices that you have to make quickly don't always turn out the way you have planned. They don't always work out at all. In fact, the result of last-minute decisions can be disastrous. I know the chance of my survival is slim, but I will fight until my last breath if it means that my baby will live.

I decide to reach for the cell phone and run to the bathroom. I don't know why I don't think of the kitchen, of finding a knife and fighting back but at the moment I do not.

So I move quickly, grab the phone, and run into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I frantically dial 9-1-1. "Help! He is going to kill me!" I scream into the phone, tears running down my face, I am hysterical with fear. The operator is talking calmly and trying to get information, but I can't understand what she is saying.

He is breaking through the door. I can see that he is making rapid progress. The door is already coming loose from its hinges. I leave the phone connected to the operator so they could trace my location and get to me. I hear her say someone will be there in seven minutes.

Seven minutes is an eternity.

In Seven miutes I may not be alive.

In seven minutes, my baby...

I can not think like that I have 420 seconds to keep myself alive.

I throw the phone on the floor hoping that I can keep him away from me long enough for the police to do their job. I begin counting the seconds in my head.

1 second... 2 seconds... 3 seconds...

He is pounding through the door, screaming incoherent thoughts and obscenities. His voice is filled with rage and vitriol. He will break through soon and then there is nothing to stop him from getting to me.

I scan the room, there is a high window, but I would never be able to fit through it. Still trying to find anything with which to defend myself, I realize that the bathroom holds loofahs and soaps, nothing dangerous. Then I see the mirror. If I can break it, maybe I can get a big enough piece to cut him or at least cause him to pause.

61 seconds...62 seconds... 63 seconds...

Six more minutes until hope walks through the door.

"You don't have to do this, " I yell at him, "The police are on their way. You can leave now. You won't be caught. You can live to have your revenge another day."I am pleading, though I know he won't buy into it.

"Do you think the police scare me?" He screams back. "Do you think anything scares me? I am going to kill you now because you deserve it. You are a whore that needs to be taught a lesson. It is a shame that we can't play a little first. I sure would have loved to show you a good time before I dispatch of you."

I tie a towel around my hand and manage to break the glass, finding a rather large piece that I quickly hide behind my back. It may buy me a little time.

The anger is still raging in his voice as he continues to break through the door, I hear the boards crack and see his sick, twisted smile peek through them. I will not cry. I will not show fear. "There you are," he triumphs as the sadistic smile returns to his face. "Do you think we have enough time for a little pleasure before I watch you bleed?" He asks me If will agree to that.

153 seconds....154 seconds...155 seconds...

"We might," I snark, "You know what losers the police are."

He returns the snark. He knows that I am trying to stall. "Who would want to fuck an ugly bitch like you anyway?" He adds.

Reaching through the broken boards, he finds the knob on the door and turns the handle. He has full access to me right now. He slows down his steps and sniffs the air. "Nothing smells as good as the fear of an enemy. I am going to take a little time to savor this moment. Today, I get two enemies at once. Wonderful." His words are devilish, filled with delight at my pain, at Jake's pain. He sniffs the air and leans toward me, watching every emotion.

I block him out thinking only of Jake and my baby,. The thoughts of Jake's arms around me and the sweet moments that we have shared, give me strength in these final moments. the reminder of all of the plans that we have for that baby and our life helps me hold on to that life with everything inside of me.

A tear runs down my cheek, damn it..

He smiles and leans back.

200 seconds... 201 seconds... 202 seconds...

Waiting to touch me, he continues to toy with me like a lion to his prey. I have placed myself in the back corner of the bathroom as far away from him as I can get., but he is here now and I have nowhere to go. I am trapped, utterly and completely.

With the mirror shard behind my back, I try one last tactic. Shouldn't you have some evidence to prove to Jake that you truly killed me, that you are the one who destroyed him?" I ask him.

"What kind of evidence do you suggest?" He answers back. I don't believe that he is buying my distraction, but he is willing to play along and that buys me some time.

220 seconds... 221 seconds... 222 seconds...

"Maybe a picture of your mouth on me or a knife on my throat, or my dress which I can take off right now? You are smart enough to think of those details. If you are going to destroy him, you should do it completely, don't you think?" I ask.

"You are devious." He is impressed, "Why do you want him to suffer?"

"He left me here alone, knowing that I was in danger. If I am going to die, he should know what he did and feel the weight of all of it." The words fly out of my mouth, but they are all lies. I love him. I know if he left it was because he was thinking of us.

255 seconds...257 seconds... 258 seconds...

"OOOh, maybe I should keep you around, make him suffer a little longer." He pauses for a split second, still toying with me. Then seeing the hope in my eyes, he finishes his thought, "But you are a tricky bitch and I don't things would work out with the two of us despite your beauty,."

George moves quickly toward me now, placing his thick hands around my throat. His breathing is ragged. from the joy that he feels in my pain. I am losing all of my air, gasping, and struggling for any amount of oxygen. Surprisingly, I feel one hand release my neck. With the free hand, he rips open my dress exposing my breasts, and drops his pants, fondling himself. Drool drips from his mouth. the other hand remains on my neck, constricting the air. I am still gasping and fading in and out...

320 seconds... 321 seconds... 322 seconds...

I remember the weapon behind my back and manage to wrangle the piece free and frantically lunge the shard toward George. I aim for his neck, but I hit his side, creating a huge gash that is bleeding profusely but is not big enough to stop him. In fact, it seems to increase his pleasure. He begins to moan louder and breathe heavier.

He is almost at the point of his release. He sits up straight and removes his hand from my neck so he can fondle me in the last few seconds of his enjoyment.

380 seconds...381 seconds... 382 seconds...

Once he is done, he wipes his filthy hand on my face, shoving those grubby fingers into my mouth forcing me to drink his fluid.

I spit it in his face.

Satisfied, he reaches for the mirror shard and takes it from my hands.

"So, this is how you want to die? I think I will oblige." His smile is bigger than I have seen and his delight is evident in his eyes.

400 seconds...401 seconds...403 seconds...

He raises the shard above his head with dramatic flare and sadistically plunges it into ...

[soulcastermindset]

Memorable Gaming Moments: Thane's Loyalty Mission in Mass Effect 2 (aka: why Seryna is a personal favorite)

So, I've been playing through the Horizon series again recently and examining some of the side characters more closely, trying to really focus on picking apart their motivations and the ways they connect with Aloy and the larger story. Unfortunately for all you HZD and HFW fans, though, this post is not about those games (Though I'm sure I'll yell about them at some point).

While I could talk about Morlund and his theatrical counterparts for quite some time, I'd rather talk about a character from my favorite video game series who I've been meaning to collect my thoughts on for a while. Mass Effect 2's sheer volume of recruitment missions mean that Commander Shepard meets their fair share of alien personalities, but to this day, Thane's recruitment mission contains the one I am most intrigued by.

Seryna, the asari Shepard meets in the transportation sector, is only on-screen for about five minutes of the game. Despite that short length of time and the fact that she never shows up again in the next installment of the franchise, I remain fascinated by her. In five minutes and three (two and a half?) scenes, she plays the situation to her advantage extremely skillfully, in a way I'm not sure even most of the main characters could imitate, and she comes out clean and almost intentionally forgettable on the other side.

Seyna's first words to Shepard are "Who wants to know," immediately evasive and prodding for information, giving herself a chance to size up the threat in front of her under the guise of disinterest. As soon as she learns that Shepard is after Thane, she's immediately very matter of fact and unafraid to freely give information.

One of the biggest reasons this is notable to me is that in almost every other recruitment mission so far, a character has required something from Shepard before they are willing to provide their assistance. Mordin needed help stopping the plague on Omega. Okeer wanted help killing Jedore. The Warden on the prison ship wasn't willing to provide help at all, planning a double cross the entire time. The list goes on. Seryna just tells them what they want to know and gives them immediate access to do it. She clearly doesn't trust Shepard, but she navigates the conversation with them in a way that doesn't invite any kind of retaliation on their part, which seems very intentional.

Also during this conversation, Seryna reveals that she worked for Nassana's security and confronted Nassana when she learned her boss was having people killed. And yet, somehow, despite being willing to kill to keep her secrets under wraps, Nassana leaves Seryna alive, firing her rather than just killing her too. This always struck me as rather odd, considering that Nassana was willing to sacrifice an army of mercs just to keep herself safe from an assassin. Even if Shepard doesn't do the side quest to unknowingly help Nassana kill her sister, that's pretty damning evidence all on its own.

So, what was it about Seryna specifically that made Nassana choose mercy? We know she's not Eclipse, since Eclipse is an existing group outside of Nassana. Even if Nassana fired her, she'd likely still be doing Eclipse work instead of having to find a job at the transport station that she clearly isn't fond of.

Seryna certainly wasn't spared because Nassana wanted to keep her in her back pocket as a potential re-hire, either, since Nassana knows Seryna will call her actions into question, and she's clearly paranoid enough during the actual recruitment mission that she would never trust Seryna again at this point.

My personal assumption is that Seryna is an asari commando or former spec ops agent of some kind, someone Nassana didn't think she could kill without some kind of backlash or without potentially losing her own life in the process (Seryna does mention that she might have been good enough at her job that she could have stopped Thane from killing Nassana, though whether this is hubris or not is open to interpretation). If it's not for either of those reasons, Nassana letting someone that intrinsically tied to her personal security forces go free doesn't seem like a loose end she would tolerate. This point is further expanded upon after the mission, but I'll touch on that in a moment.

If we go back to the pre-mission conversation, Seryna freely admits that she did not hire Thane, but much like she's doing with Shepard now, she's not afraid to give out info on the best ways to get to her former boss. She clearly has no love for Nassana, and it's not until the car ride to the tower that she finally asks Shepard,

"So, this assassin. You here to stop him?"

And this is interesting. Because realistically, while Seryna's more than happy to see Nassana's head on a platter, she's already given Thane the information for that to happen, AND there would be no ties to her even if he failed because she didn't hire him. By helping Shepard, who is clearly not a hired assassin, get involved, she is risking Nassana's wrath much more directly, and instead of telling Shepard to find someone else to help, she takes them to the tower even though she admits in this moment that there's technically a chance Shepard could be going to assist Nassana.

Asking this question after she's already decided to help begs the question: does she know who Shepard is and is therefore unwilling to cross them? Does she not want to look the heavily-armed gift horse in the mouth, help them out while she can, and just get out of dodge before there's any potential blowback?

I personally lean towards the latter. If Shepard is there to help, that can only help speed up Nassana's death, and if Shepard's not... hey, those are a lot of big guns they have, best not risk it.

Of course, Shepard affirms that they're there to help the assassin (though the way they put it, "I'm just here to make sure he survives," is certainly worth the slightly interested "hm" Seryna gives in response, seeing as Shepard could still be working in Nassana's benefit and just trying to keep Thane alive so Nassana can get information out of him, but I think it's mostly safe to say at this point that Seryna believes that she and Shepard are working towards a similar goal), and the mission commences, ending with Nassana's death.

After Seryna drops Shepard off at the Dantius Towers for the mission, Shepard never sees her again, but they are given a recorded message by her co-worker, Tana, and that she took an unspecified job off-world at an unknown location. We learn in this message that Seryna was "on her way to a new life" when she heard the news that Nassana was dead.

This implies that almost immediately after dropping Shepard off, she books it. She flees. Even if we as the audience assume that a couple of days pass in-universe (we know that Shepard hits the towers at night and that the sun is rising when they find Thane, and it's likely that the police find Nassana's body within twenty-four hours of that moment), she packs up her entire life in less than a day, makes all the necessary arrangements, and is GONE before the news even drops about her old boss's death. I'm largely of the mind that what she told her co-worker about finding a new job was a blatant lie (especially taking into consideration how much she seemed to dislike the transport job but chose it anyway), and she was just getting the hell out in case everything went south.

Seryna played the game, and played it well, and when the chips were falling in a way that could have been fatal to her, even if the odds were clearly in her favor, she jumped ship to avoid any potential for a wildcard ruining her plans, and she fascinates me.

TL;DR, Seryna, a one-off character whose only narrative goal is to get Commander Shepard to Thane Krios, is heavily implied to be a force of nature in her own right.

In just these few moments of game time, Seryna proves herself shrewd, competent, intelligent, possibly VERY gifted at combat, petty, and willing to uproot her entire life to stay safe and alive.

I'm more interested in Seryna than I am some of the main squad characters in this game! I'd read a short spin-off story about her, no lie, but since that will likely never happen, I'll just yell about her here on tumblr so we all give her another look on our next playthrough.

Morlund I'm sorry this post wasn't about you

[excelsi-or]

summoned (pt. 3)

hey guys! hope you're all doing well :) time feels like it's just slipping away a bit right now. my goal is to finish posting this in the next two weeks. xx

pairing: woozi x fem!reader/fem!OC

w.c. 2.5k

part 1 | part 2

“Human.”

Jihoon stands at her bedside. It’s nearing 11 AM and she’s still sleeping peacefully.

“Human.”

She still doesn’t wake.

“Human.”

She jolts upright, looking around before her eyes settle on him. “What’s going on?” With unseeing eyes, she pats the bedside table for her glasses.

Once they’re on her face, she squints at him. “What is happening?”

Seems the human is awake now.

“Don’t you have work to be going to?”

Her suspicion turns to disbelief. “You woke me because I’m going to be late for a 9-to-5 I don’t have?”

“You have meetings and a home and you don’t have a job?”

“I have a job. Just not one with a set schedule, Mr. Demon. I’m self-employed.” 

That just sounds like she’s made up her job.

While checking her phone, she pushes her glasses to rub sleep from her eyes. He wonders why she continues scrolling as she does this.

When Jihoon doesn’t leave, she eases around him to get to the ensuite, phone still in hand, other hand adjusting her glasses.

Jihoon trails after her, halting when she holds a hand up in his face. Then she shuts the door. Unbothered, he leans against the doorframe, his eyes focused on the wood grain.

“I’m not going to pee until I know you’re in the living room. We can discuss whatever you need to discuss later.”

Despite now being bothered, he complies with the request. Unfortunately, the next portion of his plan requires her help. Jihoon stares at the pile of books he’d gone through over the last few hours since sunrise. When she doesn’t emerge right away, he puts the books away. She has a few books she’s never read before, and while some seemed immature and too romantic for his taste, some of the mystery ones were alright.

All of them kept him wildly entertained until he woke her.

She appears in the doorway dressed in a soft yellow dress, no longer donning glasses and her hair brushed.

“Now, what was so urgent that you needed to wake me…” she stops in her hallway and stares at her door, “... up?” She tilts her head, squinting at her doorway. “Why is my door wide open?”

Jihoon moves to her side to admire his handiwork. “Don’t worry. No one can see inside.”

“But it’s open.”

“No one even knows your door is there.”

“I specifically asked you to take the key if you were going to leave and close my door. Not fuck around with it and make it–why can’t people see inside?”

Jihoon motions for her to follow. At her doorway, she stops. He stands across from her in her hallway.

“How do I know this isn’t some soul sucking exercise?”

Jihoon sighs. “As I told you yesterday, I will only take your soul if you exchange it.”

More squinting. She’s extremely suspicious this morning. “How do I know this isn’t some pain inducing exercise that will force me to want to give you my soul to make the pain stop?”

Impressed at the suggestion, Jihoon crosses his arms. “Are you sure you aren’t a demon? That is a wonderful idea.” He deflates a little. “Unfortunately, I didn’t think of it. You’re just going to have to trust me.”

“You’re a demon. Here because I summoned you and won’t trade my soul for anything. I don’t trust you.” She goes to the kitchen. “Just change my door back to normal, please.”

Annoyed that she won’t appreciate his skill, Jihoon undoes the securities he’d put around her apartment. When he steps back inside, she’s pouring milk over her cereal.

She doesn’t offer him breakfast.

“How do you know I undid everything properly and didn’t actually create that soul sucking door?”

“A feeling.”

Odd answer. “What kind of feeling?”

She glances over at him; the spoon slips out of her mouth. “Just a feeling.” When she sits at the table, her eyes dart to the empty chair across from her, an invitation to join her. “Now, I’m assuming you woke me up because you needed something. Besides my soul, because I’m not giving you that.”

Jihoon suspects that this human is manipulating him, but he can’t work out how she’s doing it. Or why. So, he sits. “Before we discuss, can you do one thing?”

“Which would be?” She continues munching.

“Give me your hand.”

“We agreed no touching.”

“Only this once and I’m asking your permission.”

She’s still hesitant to comply.

Jihoon holds his hand out across the table, palm up. “I just need to check something.”

Her right hand drops into his as she continues eating. She winces at the warmth, but he closes his eyes.

If there was a demon possessing her, he would have known. He was hoping that her passing through the door would exorcise her just in case. And they wouldn’t have to do this. When he pulses a burning heat through her hand, she jolts back in surprise, a curse on her lips.

Her spoon clatters into the bowl. Immediately, she’s up and running cold water over her hand. “What a reminder that I’m an idiot.” Blisters are forming on her palm. On her drawing hand.

“So… now that it seems you’ve decommissioned me for a while,” Jihoon can hear the loud unspoken curse word she puts there, “what the hell do you want?”

Jihoon turns his body her way, unbothered by her change in tone. “I need a human to do some of my bidding for me.”

“That is the worst idea ever. And you’ve reminded me not to do anything you ask.”

“You haven’t even heard what I’m going to ask of you yet.”

“Whatever it is, I’ll probably be possessed or murdered. Or both. You also ruined my drawing hand.”

“I was checking to see if you were already possessed.”

Frustrated, she finishes her breakfast before returning to her seat. With food, and because she’s usually reasonable, she’s prepared to at least listen. “Explain better.”

Jihoon explains what had happened the night before, excluding his discussion with Seokmin. While he talks, she bandages her hand. He’s mildly impressed at how prepared she seems to be, even having gauze in her kitchen drawers to wrap her hand.

“Are you even listening to me?” Jihoon asks.

She frowns as she tucks the end of the gauze in. “What makes you think that I’m not?”

“Your reaction seems too calm for what I’m telling you.”

She looks him directly in the eye. “You’re telling me that some humans could be possessed by demons and turning the energy of the planet dark. The angels thought the demons were rallying to take over Earth, so they’ve started preparing to bring about the End Days.” Her eyes skim over him. “You appear to be a pretty neutral demon who would be content living on Earth if he could.” She lifts her eyebrows. “That’s the gist, isn’t it?”

Jihoon had noticed that she wanted to say more, but she was reading more into him than he liked. “And you’re not freaked out by it?”

She shrugs. “Disappointed, maybe? That the angels are actually just as set on ruining humankind as demons are. But freaked out? No.” It seems Jihoon needs her to further explain her reaction. “I have a literal demon sitting in my kitchen. One who refuses to leave me alone even though I told you that I am not willing to hand my soul over. And I now realize that possession is taking over my soul without my permission.” A small smile cracks her face. “So, you have the means to take my soul but don’t.” She waves her hand dismissively at his continuous staring. “I have a best friend who believes that aliens are real. This is typical Saturday dinner conversation.”

“Except I’m not talking about imaginary aliens.”

“What? Demons don’t believe in science?”

Jihoon shakes his head in confusion.

“It is statistically impossible that humans are the only living life forms in the universe. Plus, how can you not believe in aliens when you exist?”

“I’m real.”

“What? Angels and demons aren’t told whether aliens exist?”

“Do you get this nonsense from that friend of yours?”

“Insult Hansol one more time and I won’t help you.”

Jihoon’s retort is on his tongue but then hears her words. “You’re going to help me.”

“I’m decommissioned, thanks to you.” She waves her bandaged hand between them. “I gotta fill my time somehow.”

“You are not telling that human anything,” Jihoon argues on their way to meet Hansol at a café.

Jihoon insisted on coming along and she had countered that he could just stay home or go do something else.

“I can’t.” He looked as if he was trying not to sigh. “I have to go with you.”

Something about how being summoned required him to be around her at all times except for in the dead of night. It was why he was able to leave, but had woken her up at 11 AM. As well as needing her help, he’d been getting bored.

“What ridiculous rules,” she scoffed. “Then I’m telling Hansol what you are, because I don’t need him spreading rumours that I have a boyfriend and refuse to tell him about it.”

‘Who cares if he tells your friends a harmless lie?”

“My nosy friends are harmless but annoying. So, Hansol has to know.”

“I’m going to have to exorcise him first.”

“Hansol’s not possessed.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know my friend.”

“Surprisingly, I don’t trust you just as much as you don’t trust me.”

“I think I’m the one in control here, Demon. I’m pretty sure there are other souls for you to take.”

“You only think you’re in control, human.” Jihoon flags another demon across the street. The woman glances at him, nods her head, but doesn’t stop. “I think I have significantly more power.”

“You say this and yet you’re here with a soul you refuse to take.”

“If you really need to share it with other humans who you think will believe you, I require that they be exorcised first.” He holds his hands up to stop her protest. “For your safety and mine.”

There’s suspicion on her face. Which Jihoon understands. But he needs to maintain some semblance of control. For some reason, the human is right; she has an odd amount of power in this situation.

Hansol is sat in the back corner of the café, which Jihoon recognizes must be their favourite spot. He just senses it when he sees her face light up. That could also be from seeing Hansol and the smell of food, but Jihoon doesn’t think so.

They have to weave through chairs and tables to reach him. As she drops her bag onto the floor, she says, “Sol, hold out your left hand.”

Hansol’s brow furrows, but he does as directed. “Why?” The furrow turns to a full-on frown as Jihoon grabs his hand. When their hands flame red, Hansol jumps back.

With a sigh, she pulls Hansol to the café bathroom.

“What the actual fuck was that?” Hansol demands. He stares at his blistering skin. “What did he do to me? What did you do to me?”

She turns the faucet to cold. Then, she shoves his hand under the water while simultaneously explaining the truth about Jihoon.

Hansol blinks at the onslaught of information. He decides to compartmentalize it and process it later. “And my hand?”

She realizes she doesn’t have any clean bandages to wrap his hand in. “He insisted that he exorcise every human I tell.”

Hansol doesn’t even bother to process that information. He nods. “Makes sense.”

She holds up her right bandaged hand. “And he recruited me to do something for him.”

“And wrecked your drawing hand.”

“Hence why I told you to hold out your left.”

“That also makes sense.”

She pats her pockets for her wallet. “Just gonna run next door to get you actual bandages. Stay here.”

Hansol salutes her and she hurries towards the door. Then she feels an uncomfortable pull above her belly button. She looks down at her waist and then feels something over her shoulder. 

Jihoon is there.

With an exasperated look on his face.

“I told you that I can’t leave your side except for in the dead night.”

“Did you do that?”

“No, the summoning that you did did that,” he huffs.

She looks around him at their now unmanned table. “What about Hansol’s things?”

“No one is going to steal anything.”

“How do you know?”

“You can tell whether I’ve rectified your door, yet you can’t tell that the humans here aren’t going to steal your stuff?” This human is a pain in his demon derrière. 

“I told you that was a feeling. I don’t get a feeling for humans. They’re complicated and temporary.”

Jihoon doesn’t have time to unpack that sentence. “So, what do you expect me to do?”

Now, they’re blocking foot traffic at the door, and she seems uninclined to move. Jihoon sighs. He tosses a hand back in the direction of the table and she watches him do it. Satisfied, she leads them out the door.

“How do you actually know? You can’t keep telling me it’s ‘just a feeling’.”

“And you can’t keep assuming it’s because I’m possessed. You’ve already done some magic voodoo ​on me.” The convenience store next door has the bandages she needs and a small washcloth. While Jihoon returns to the table, she pushes back through the washroom door.

Hansol tucks his phone away when she enters. His fingers are turning red, because the water is so cold.

Of course he would follow her directions to a T.

She quickly shuts off the water and uses the washcloth to dab at his blistered hand before wrapping it. “There we go. Now, we match.”

“So many other ways we could be matching besides burned hands by the devil,” Hansol points out.

“Just a demon actually. Not the Devil. And if we could match any other way besides this today, I would have taken it.” She realizes that maybe she should prep Hansol. “Before we go back out there, I warn that he’s a little temperamental, but he doesn’t talk much. Don’t feel intimidated by him. Feel free to leave if you need.” She shrugs as they head back out. “Not that you ever really feel that intimidated by anyone.”

At the table, Jihoon is flipping through her sketchbook. Meaning the demon had gone through her bag to find it and then had the audacity to put it on the table for everyone to see. Out of her periphery, she notices Hansol watching to see how she’ll react. 

She decides to ignore Jihoon.

The demon doesn’t look up when they open their laptops and begin discussing all the projects they’re working on, separately and together. Jihoon actually seems to be analyzing every drawing she’s ever done in that sketchbook.

Four hours, two pots of tea, and a sandwich each later, she and Hansol pack up their things. When Jihoon had started tapping his fingers on the table, clearly bored, she’d tossed a pencil at him to draw in the sketchbook. Ever since, he’s been madly scribbling in it, ignoring every conversation that she and Hansol had had. Even the one when Hansol asked her if she’d heard about the pending alien attack he’d heard about and how he thought it was ridiculous.

She still isn’t clear on whether Hansol actually believes in aliens or if he just brings it up to make her laugh. 

Outside the café, Hansol asks if she’s coming for dinner that night. “Seungkwan won’t shut up about how you don’t visit anymore.”

She snorts. “He knows I’m still working on my solo show.”

“He said that you should come over and work at the house again.”

“And we,” she motions between them, “agreed that we don’t get anything done if Seungkwan’s around.” She shakes her head with a smile and gives Hansol a one-armed hug in goodbye. “I’ll be over around 7, maybe 8? The boys are coming too, yes?”

“Seungkwan’s making it a big ordeal.” Hansol rolls his eyes affectionately. “But everyone said they’d come. Soonyoung hyung wants input on stage design for his next show, and Jeonghan hyung wants to talk about decorations for the wedding.”

Her eyes narrow. “Do I really want to go then?”

“Yah, if you don’t come, Seungkwan will complain for the next week. Do it for me.” Hansol waves a bandaged goodbye. He even smiles at Jihoon, who looks deadpanned back. “See you both later.”

She leads Jihoon back towards home.

“You sure you two aren’t dating?”

She chuckles. “Even demons don’t believe a girl and boy can be friends? I told you that Hansol and I mainly just work together nowadays.”

“He’s in a lot of your photos.”

“He’s my best friend.”

Jihoon’s mind flicks to the photos in her home. He can pick out all the faces, the pictures with all boys. “And are all the boys in your photos going to be at this party?”

She tips her head as she thinks. “Yes, actually.”

“Are you going to tell all of them who I am?”

She’d momentarily forgotten she couldn’t just leave Jihoon at home. “No, absolutely not.”

“So, what are you going to tell them?”

“Well, if I’m being honest, I was hoping I bored you so much today that you’d leave. But seems like that’s not going to happen.” She glances over her shoulder at the demon. She doesn’t remember when he’d changed outfits. It must have been sometime in the café, but he’s in a plain t-shirt and jeans now, a red hat on his head. “So, if you’re coming, I haven’t worked out what I’m going to say.”

“I can’t leave. I told you that there was something we had to do.”

“So you say.”

“And you seem to know more about it than you let on when I told you.”

“What?”

Jihoon waves the sketchbook in the air. “In here. Your sketches.”

“What about them? It’s not as if I’m drawing possessed humans or something.”

“You draw locations.”

“And?”

Jihoon frowns. He doesn’t trust anything this human says.

They stop in a few stores on the way home, and she can hear and feel Jihoon’s growing impatience. However, Jihoon doesn’t seem too aggressive for a demon, so she pushes her luck. They stop in a flower shop to pick up some flowers. She ducks into the bookstore near her apartment to ask the storeowner if anything interesting has come in. When the older woman points to a few new releases, she purchases two. The last stop is a bakery.

“You are seriously toying with me,” Jihoon grumbles under his breath.

“What are you talking about?”

The baker pretends as if he can’t hear the argument brewing, as he packs two-dozen assorted cupcakes.

“Are you trying to bore me into leaving?” Jihoon demands, his voice rising slightly.

She looks over her shoulder and shakes her head. “Not intentionally. Just always like to pop into these stores. And…” She pays for the cupcakes, smiling reassuringly at the baker hoping that it conveys that she’s not in a toxic relationship. “I always bring these cupcakes to Seungkwan’s. The boys love them.”

They go back to the apartment, bickering about different aspects of her life. From where all the women in her life are to why she is in the city alone to her lack of love life.

But she has a reasonable answer for everything.

“Seriously, Mr. Demon, I don’t know what you’re trying to figure out,” she smiles at the young man who holds the apartment door for her, “but my life is fine.”

“In my millennia of existence,” he watches her struggle to press the elevator button, “no one has a fine life. Something is always wrong.”

“But do humans who are satisfied with their lives,” she stops talking when the elevator opens, but there’s no one there, “summon demons to make it better?” She manages to press the button for her floor. “You’re here by accident, so you can leave whenever you please.”

Jihoon has no response to that. He trails after her. While he had been bickering with the human all the way back, Jihoon had also been watching the humans that were passing. If what he thinks is happening is actually happening, then there should have been signs of it. Also, why wasn’t he made aware of the plan, whatever the plan is?

Human possession isn’t frowned upon, far from it. Demons that can integrate and wreak havoc are praised highly. The reason most demons don’t is because the stakes are high. Consequences involve angels. Getting caught by an angel typically means termination, so only the strongest and boldest bother to try human possession. And with Hell crawling with more cowards than Bravehearts, well, it doesn’t happen often. And for all the evil that Jihoon could sense, there wasn’t anything particularly noticeable.

For all intents and purposes, the area seems just like her life: fine. So, why, as he walks into her apartment, does he have a sinking feeling?

He sits on the floor between the couch and the coffee table and splays her sketchbook open. Meanwhile, she disappears into her bedroom to do whatever humans do when they get home. When she returns, she looks similar to how she did when they stepped out the door earlier. She takes a seat across from him. Her back is to the TV and Jihoon doesn’t know why this makes him more comfortable.

The way she studies him makes him uncomfortable, as if she’s reading him more than she’s letting on. “So, what in the world have you been going on about that you refuse to say in front of other humans, Mr. Demon?”

“I just need to reconfirm. You are unafraid,” he pauses to gauge her reaction, “of me.”

“You don’t seem to want the destruction of humankind, so you seem overall alright. Haven’t possessed or really threatened me. If anything, you’ve now just become mildly annoying.”

That bothers him. Annoying. As if he’s a gnat.

“Why?” She tips her head. “Should I be scared?”

Jihoon takes her in. In whatever way she’s reading him, he can easily read more. In the reflection of the TV, he notices his own eyes going from black to green. The human can definitely see it too, though she hasn’t said anything about it. 

“Hm, okay,” he finally says.

She blinks. That hadn’t been the response she was expecting. “Okay what?”

“You’re okay.”

She laughs in disbelief. “For a human, you mean?”

Jihoon nods. “Exactly.”

“Because I’ve decided to not be afraid of you?”

“I don’t like the groveling and the begging. And if they’re not doing that, then they’re demanding. Reasonable humans. I like you guys.”

“Does that include Hansol?”

Jihoon hesitates. “That human is tolerable.”

With a small smile he doesn’t notice, she leans forward and rests her arms on the coffee table. “Well, with that out of the way, what’d you wanna talk about?”

Jihoon immediately turns her sketchbook to face her. He points out the various locations she’d sketched out. At the time, she was working on architectural references. People are her forte, but she’s been wanting to transition to putting people into environments.

She waits for Jihoon to explain before asking her question. “What about them?”

He puts a finger on the sketchbook. “Do you know where exactly these places are?”

“Well, yeah. One of my friends and I went on a drive around the city and out to the suburbs looking for buildings to draw.” She answers the unasked question. “He wanted to photograph some stuff and he has a car.”

“These three,” he now points to an abandoned building, a building that looks a bit like a hospital, and a storefront, “give off…” Jihoon pauses to consider the best way to describe the black smoke coming off these sketches. “Bad energy.”

He cringes internally.

What’s the word he kept hearing in the café?

Vibes.

As if the potential end of humankind and the End Days are just about “vibes”. Hell, Jihoon can’t decide if he prefers the modern age to the last century.

But the human doesn’t cringe. Instead, she’d interpreted his words differently. As an affront on her skill. “You’re saying they suck?”

“No.” Jihoon looks over the sketches again. “Your drawings are actually… quite good,” he mutters. He avoids her eye when she smirks at the compliment. “These three places have bad energy coming off the page. But your other work,” he picks up the sketchbook and thumbs the pages, “nothing. So,” the book lands back on the table open to the original page, “I want to see them.”

“In person?” She takes his impassive expression as a yes. “I can take you to the places, but we’ll need a car.” Her eyebrows rise as an idea strikes. “He posted his photos on his Insta.”

“Insta?” Jihoon repeats.

“Instagram.” She’s on her feet going to her backpack by her desk. “Social media platform, not important.” When she sits back down, she looks at something in her sketchbook. “When did we go?” she mutters.

Jihoon notices the date scribbled in the right corner of each sketch.

He can hear her humming as she searches for whatever she wants to show him.

“Ah! Here!” The phone is then on the table facing him.

Jihoon squints at the screen before realizing he doesn’t need to squint to read what’s on the screen. Bad habits.

“Just swipe to the left to see the other ones. I think the abandoned building is the last photo.”

Her drawings, while not 100% accurate, capture the feeling and the general shapes. She’s simplified them, but Jihoon is impressed that he can associate the sketch and the real life building. His eyes dart to the name of the photographer: xu8.

He decides that can’t be a real name.

From the photos, Jihoon can’t see the evidence of demon activity. But through her sketches, he can. He doesn’t know what that says about the humans who did the work or the medium.

“This xu8 took the photos?”

“His name’s Myungho, but yes. That’s his username.”

Jihoon frowns.

She waves her hand dismissively. “Again, not important.”

“Will this Myungho be at the party tonight?”

“He should be. Do you want to talk to him?”

“Will he have the photos or the camera he used to take these photos with him?”

She reaches for her phone. “I can ask him to bring them.”

“Will he be suspicious?”

“Suspicious? No. Curious, probably. This was three months ago.”

Jihoon already recognizes the signature look of someone ‘texting’: head down, chin nearly to her chest. When she suddenly tosses herp hone behind him on the couch, the demon moves his head to avoid being hit.

“He said he’d bring it.”

Jihoon turns back to her and then back at the phone. “He responded already?”

“Myungho only texts in one worded answers and always has his phone nearby.” She leans back on her palms. “Now, what exactly are we going to tell my friends when you show up?”

part 4

[suvidrache]

Guard Me

age in bio when interacting. minors do not interact.

Word Count: 976 / Read it on AO3 / Wattpad

Summary: Alex is hired as a bodyguard for a journalist who is afraid.

It was a cool and calm evening; the wind blowing through the trees. The remaining leaves rustled in the trees, the ones on the ground, scattering and fighting amongst each other as the wind tore them apart.

It was autumn and your day off. Your work had hired a bodyguard for you and you had decided to meet him before he worked with you.

You sat inside the restaurant waiting for the person to show up.

Alex stood in his closet, trying to decide whether to wear a suit or a nice outfit.

He sighed as he picked out the nice outfit and hoped for the best.

He had your number, and you had texted him where to meet and at what time.

Unfortunately for him, he didn't know the place and had forgotten to look it up. It was too late to look now, as he had about 45 minutes to get there.

He got dressed and put the address into his GPS. 30 minutes away.

He pulled into the parking lot and parked, sighing with relief as it didn't look like a fancy restaurant that required him to wear a suit.

He got out of his car and it honked, signaling it was locked.

He opened the door to the place as the host asked him how many. He responded by telling him his date might already be here.

You had decided to take a drink of water when a man was led to your table.

Alex was taken to a table where you were sitting. You had the cup to your lips. Taking a small sip and quickly swallowing as you stood up with a smile and offered Alex your hand.

"Hi, I'm Y/N."

"Hey, I'm Alex. Nice to meet you."

"Same to you."

You said as you sat down. Alex sat across from you and ordered a soda for himself.

"So you're my bodyguard?"

"Yes, I am. If you don't mind me asking, what do you do for a living?"

You looked around before looking at him and answering, "I'm a journalist."

"That's cool, wait, but that isn't a dangerous job?" He asked as he looked at you with a slightly confused look.

A waiter came by and took your orders. The both of you had ordered tacos. Once the waiter was out of earshot, you answered Alex.

"It can be, and I don't feel comfortable being alone out there when anyone could just walk up and do something."

"Makes sense. Don't worry though, I won't let anything happen, and I could tell you some jokes if it helps?"

You smiled, "Thank you, Alex."

"Of course."

The next day, you woke up early. Before your alarm even had the chance to ring, you yawned and stretched.

You rolled over in your bed, not wanting to get out of bed just yet. You rubbed your eyes and rolled back over as your alarm went off.

You reached your hand out and turned it off, sighing as you sat up before getting ready for your day.

"I will be just fine." You said to yourself as you ran your fingers through your hair, pausing as the water from the shower rained down on you.

You finished up, dried off, got dressed, added on any final touches, and headed out.

You opened the door to your car and headed to your job.

Alex had said he would meet you at your office and from there follow you to wherever it was that you needed to go.

You parked in the lot, looking around and seeing nothing. You stepped out of your car as a black car pulled up and parked next to you.

Alex stepped out and smiled at you.

You smiled back as you gave a small wave, not sure of what to say or do.

He waved back, and you headed into the building. He followed close behind.

"What's the plan for today?"

"I'm going to print off my paperwork before I have to go and talk about today's news."

"Sounds fun."

"Not really." You said as you sat down at your desk and began setting the computer up.

"Nervous?"

"Very."

"Did you hear about the new restaurant called Karma?"

"Uh, no, I haven't actually… why's that important? No offense or anything, just curious!" You had asked, as you thought he might be changing the subject.

"There's no menu: you get what you deserve."

"What?"

"Oh, I was telling a joke."

"Sorry." You sighed and placed your face in your hands as your papers printed off.

"It's ok, it probably wasn't the best one." He said as he placed a hand on your shoulder.

"Why should you always knock on the refrigerator before opening it?"

"I'm not sure."

"Because there might be a salad dressing."

You smiled as you stood up and grabbed your paperwork.

"Thank you, Alex."

"You're welcome. Peter Pan is always flying because he Neverlands."

You covered your mouth as you tried not to laugh.

"What did the ocean say to the sand?"

"What?"

"Nothing - it just waved."

You walked out of the building and got into the news van, Alex following quickly after.

The van started up and headed off to the location.

Alex continued speaking to you along the way.

"An invisible man turned down a job offer."

"Why?"

"He couldn't see himself doing it. A nose can't be 12 inches long, otherwise, it'd be a foot."

You couldn't help but laugh.

Alex smiled. "Feeling better?"

"A little."

"How do you fix a cracked pumpkin?"

"How?"

"With a pumpkin patch."

"What do you call an angry carrot?"

"What?"

"A steamed veggie."

"Why do ghosts like to ride in elevators?"

"I'm not sure."

"It lifts their spirits."

You laughed again and looked out the window to see the buildings pass by.

"I'm feeling better. Thank you."

"Of course."

© SUVIDRACHE — do not copy, translate, modify, or plagiarize my work. reblogs are appreciated!

Taglist: @sunmoongoddess & @imagineherbrightskies / To join my taglist apply here.

[8turning]

☆⠀⠀CHO.KYUNGMIN — love dive !

kyungmin x gn ! reader ★ s2?. minimal angst. comfort ★ wc 2.7k

warnings: food mentions & consumption. let me know if i missed anything!

n. celebratory fic cuz i got promoted at work :D

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀〈 REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED ! 〉

love is complicated. love is blind. love is easy to fall into, and - in most cases - hard to fall out of. love is the beauty of life.

the venture of love seemed to tug every beings heart onward, in search of new towering highs and extravagant lows where they too could possibly find such gratification.

but even then, the desperate want to love - or to be loved - does not guarantee anything for an individual. having love to offer does not mean you will find someone to give it to, and the aching pain you feel after being loved no longer holds no promise you will experience being loved once more.

love is inconsistent.

the sound of dry leaves scratching against the pavement below you filled your ears, the wind howling and causing a chilling night breeze as you remain on the park bench.

winter is approaching, and now more than ever, you wished to be loved. heart beating quickly as the temperature steadily lowered, you bring your hands to your biceps, your winter coat growing more and more useless as time passes.

you rub your thumbs along your jacket sleeves in hope the friction could bring you some form of solace, but to no avail. the line between wanting to be held to no longer feel this chilling cold and to feel as though you were appreciated by someone seemed to become increasingly blurred the longer you remained on the wooden bench.

you felt as goosebumps raise along your exposed skin, the joints in your fingers growing stiff as you take a deep breath in, chest rising and you hope the vacancy around you can be discarded from your mind.

rising from your place, the breeze slows its momentum - and for the first time since you left your apartment - you felt as if luck was on your side. you keep your mask above your nose in an attempt to lessen your chances of getting sick as you begin your commute back to your lonesome apartment, the walk short from the local park.

you move your hands to your coat pockets, the fabric rubbing against your skin easing the cold atmosphere you - albeit willingly - found yourself in.

the street lamps and neon signs outside the local corner stores illuminated the streets and sidewalk, faint murmurs from surrounding folk filled your ears as you walked past.

the posters along the windows of the convenience store across the street seem all too enticing to stroll away from. looking down each side of the road in front of you, you make your way across the street to the small shop.

the metal bar handle along the door was cold - as if you had expected it to be anything else - and lowering your sleeve to protect your hand, you pull it open.

the air in the store wasn’t much warmer than outside, but the difference seemed immense to your frigid body. the clerk greets you, his bright smile unfortunately going unreciprocated as you offer him a pained one.

his doesn’t falter, and in the back of your mind you boil it down to him taking his job rather seriously - such devotion to even a closing shift at a corner store is hard to find.

their refrigerated section is where you stop, a variety of sandwiches - both lunch and breakfast - available to you. fruit and different cold drinks lining the shelf before you inevitably pass up the opportunity; weather much too unforgiving to allow yourself such cold delicacies.

the warmest foods you could find were several cups of microwavable ramen and breakfast sandwiches that required heating, both of which you’d have to wait till you were back at your apartment to consume - you found yourself growing more impatient as time passed in the store.

“y'know, i could heat something up for you in the back if you’d like,” you hear a voice say, ridding your mind of your mental debate as you look in the direction the voice came from - your eyes meeting with the clerk’s once again.

he seems to notice your hesitance to answer, filling the store with his voice once more: “i’m actually about to close up shop, i could heat it then you could eat in here to warm up a bit if you’d like.

“i won’t charge you extra to heat it up, if you’re worried about that,” he adds on, that same smile he had when you first walked in returning to his face.

nodding, you grab a cup of ramen and a sandwich, making your way towards the counter and he begins to ring up your items before you even could set them down.

you pay, your eyes glancing at his nametag as he counts your change; kyungmin. he grabs both items and juts his chin to behind you. “you can take a seat over there, i’ll bring them out once they’re warm,” and with that, he disappears into the back.

you walk where he had directed you to, taking a seat in the chair and leaning your clothed forearms against the tables surface after fishing your phone from your back pocket.

11:24 PM your phone screen read, a heavy sigh leaving your lips as you try to occupy yourself for the next few minutes. you come to realize you hadn’t thanked the clerk for his kindness yet - wishing you had done so at the counter - and guilt fills your being.

the soft music that played throughout the store cuts off, catching your attention as you look up, only for a moment to pass before a new station seemed to start playing.

alongside the much more upbeat music, you hear a microwave humming from the back room, as well as footsteps. “sorry for the music change,” kyungmin says, peering over the aisles to find you looking at him. “i usually plug my phone in when i clean before closing,” he finishes, walking towards the front door and turning the open sign, as well as disabling the neon sign that hung in the window next to the very posters that drew you here.

“no worries,” you say, those being the first words you had spoken in a few hours - as well as the first you had spoken to him. “thank you for letting me eat here.”

“of course - wouldn’t wanna leave you cold and hungry this late at night,” he replies, making his way towards the back once more, soon returning with a broom and dustpan.

you couldn’t help but watch as he swept the floors, your eyes never losing sight of where he was from how his head rarely fell below the tops of the shelfs littered throughout the store.

he wipes down the countertops, the fridges where drinks are stored, the coffee and tea machines before he makes it to the last aisle, the same one that the table you sat at was closest to.

he swept quickly and efficiently, and just then you realized why they probably book him for the same shift that has to clean the store. his swiftness doesn’t deplete when he nears you, but you’re still shocked when he mutters a small “sorry” as he passes you by, another smile directed towards you.

he must have had to have many energy drinks running through his system to be this peppy at almost midnight; or perhaps, his natural attitude was just that vitamin-like.

you watch as he tossed out the debris he had collected, making the same commute to the back just in time for the microwave to beep. despite the distance between you and the backroom doorway, you could smell the faint scent of soup and the sandwich you had bought - your suspicions of what the scent was only confirmed as you watch kyungmin emerge once again, your food items in hand.

“careful, they just came out,” he says, setting them on the tabletop along with utensils and napkins.

“thank you,” you say, lowering your mask before you rip the rest of the paper top from the ramen cup, separating the ramen with the utensils he provided you with.

“if you need anything else, just yell, okay? i’ll be able to hear you over the music, don’t worry” and off he went again, finishing up his closing shift duties as you ate in peace, finding his taste in music rather soothing in the friendly atmosphere that he had created effortlessly.

you watched out the window you sat next to, the people who accompanied you on the streets before seemed to have vanished in the short time you occupied the convenience store.

kyungmin's faint humming as he tinkered around the store did not go unheard, shifting from wall-to-wall and corner-to-corner in search of anything more he could possibly clean - and to no avail.

“if you want me to leave so you can go home you can just tell me,” you offer, his head perking up over the shelves to look in your direction. “you’ve already done a lot to help me, it’s the least i could do, really.” you finish, preparing to grab your half-empty ramen cup and sandwich rapper before he speaks up.

“that’s not necessary,” he begins. “might grab something myself to eat, actually.” with that, he waltzes to the refrigerated section you had gone to prior, picking out a cold sandwich.

you watch as he walks to the counter next, paying for his meal before heading towards you. “may i?” he asks, his head tilting to the side in the direction of the chair opposite you - you nod.

he seemed relieved - this probably being the first time he was able to sit in the last few hours - as he begins unwrapping his sandwich. he eats in silence, not trying to force a conversation to happen that wasn’t natural, and a part of you greatly appreciated that - whether intentional on his end or not.

“thank you again for letting me stay behind,” you say, earning a light chuckle as he looks out the window beside him before turning his gaze back to you.

“it’s really no hassle,” he explains. “besides, it was nice having some company while i closed up, even if we were both preoccupied.”

his smile grew wider, and before you had time to realize, you were finally offering him one in return. the ache that once filled your chest was now replaced with a pleasant warmth - but nevertheless, the longing remained, but perhaps for a different reason than prior.

“i’m kyungmin, by the way,” he says after a few beats of silence.

“i read your nametag earlier,” you laugh, watching as he looks down, seemingly as if he forgot he even wore a nametag and turns to the side - you note how his ears turn red under his tussled dark hair. “i’m y/n.”

“well, y/n,” he begins once again, rising from his place. “i think it’s about time we both head out, it’s pretty late.”

you nod, grabbing your trash and tossing it into a nearby bin as he does the same. “did you walk here?” he inquires as he walks to the backroom once again, presumably to grab his belongings.

“yeah, but i don’t live too far from here-”

“then would it be alright if i walked you home?” he asks, peeking his head out from the doorway as he slides a jacket over his work attire and slings a backpack over his shoulder.

“i don’t want to make your commute home even longer,” you say, brows furrowing.

“i live close as well, i guarantee you won’t make it any longer - in fact,” he starts, smile spreading on his lips as he locks the backroom. “i think you’d make it more enjoyable.”

he walks past you to get the the counter once again, and you remain frozen in place for a moment while you fully process his words. while your mind told you to not overthink the strangers kindness - to follow your guardians advice as to not trust strangers in the first place - you found yourself wanting to walk home with him; he felt safe.

“that’ll be fine then,” you confirm, kyungmin nodding as he scribbles on a small card before shoving it into his pocket, paying it no mind as you put your mask over your nose once again.

“then, shall we?” he says, walking towards the door and allowing you to catch up to him, keeping the door open with his foot as to let you through before turning off the lights, locking the door behind you both.

“you want to lead the way?” he asks, a small “sure” leaving your lips as your eyes remain glued to the concrete below you, kyungmin smiling as he lifts his own mask to cover his face.

he remains by your side, never too close but never straying too far either - a comfortable distance. but as the night grew more cruel, you became thankful for his presence, even if a small tinge of guilt coursed through your veins at the prospect of having him walk in this chilling cold with you.

“you’re heading to those apartments?” he asks, a single hand coming out of his pocket to point in the direction of your apartments building’s illuminated front patio - you nod.

“i live in those ones, too - fourth floor,” he comments, shivering hand returning to his pocket as he lets out a light laugh, a faint fog appearing before his face then vanishing from the air that had passed through his mask.

“i’m on the second,” you reply, noting how kyungmin nods in your peripheral vision as you cross the last street heading towards the complex.

the receptionist was no where to be found - not unusual at this hour - and you both book it to the elevator. the warm air circulated throughout the building, you and kyungmin taking a deep breath in hopes the warmth can infiltrate your bodies quicker.

he presses two buttons - the 2nd floor and the 4th - before leaning against one of the rails. the vibration of the elevator was enough to lull you, your exhausted body and racing mind hoping to rest itself once you were alone.

the elevator dings and the door slides open. “i take it you won’t need much more ‘walking-home’ from here,” kyungmin comments, his eye-smile almost as bright as his usual one as you turn back to face him.

“thank you, again, for everything,” you say, nodding your head as you exit the elevator.

you hear the the door begins to close behind you before a voice sounds down the hall.

“y/n! i forgot,” kyungmin says, placing his foot in front of the door to prevent it from shutting and sending him away as he digs in his pocket. “i wanted to give you this,” he says, pulling out a small card with even smaller columned pictures on it.

“it’s a punch card, if you buy things from the shop, you can earn punches to get a free item! in case you wanted to stop by again,” he concludes, a faint dust of red hides under his mask, yet it doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

you thank him, taking the card from his fidgeting hand and bidding your final goodbye to him. looking at the card, you notice a smear of black along the front, and upon turning it over, you find smudged writing - what appeared to be a phone number.

you turn back, but it was too late as you only caught a small glimpse of his smiling face - mask now removed - with red cheeks and ears through the crack of the sliding door before it fully closed.

you laugh lightly, skeptical of the current turn of events your life had seemed to take in only the course of a few hours - you were grateful nonetheless.

returning your gaze to the card, you come to the conclusion that you should frequent the store more often. you’d get to talk to a sweet and cute clerk and work your way towards free food at the same time?

it seemed as though the longing to love and to be loved tugged your heart into a small convenience store today - and unlike other attempts - this one reigned successful, and you found yourself excited and anticipating what this new venture would bring.

© 8turning 2023.

[cocogrrrl]

rendezvous

Chapter 2: Tale of Two—Detective Broflovski

a look into our other lead, kyle, and his motives.

wc: 773 no cws check the series masterlist here! previous chapter

Now, Kyle.

Kyle is one of South Park Police’s best detectives, if not the most. He, at least in his circle, is praised for his quick-thinking skills and agility. 

Unfortunately, all his abilities remain unrecognized by the public due to Yate’s selfish nature to steal all the credit being done. Yes, yes. Somehow, after all these years, Captain Yates has completely held the power of the station. If it wasn't obvious as well, he was still the bigoted officer he was back when Kyle was a little kid.

“Kyle!” Yates greeted, popping from behind Kyle as he patted his back. “How’s the case I gave you? Anything good? Are you close to finishing it?”

“Actually, it’s going pretty well. I think I’ll start on the paperwork soon since I’m about to crack th-”

“Well, that’s great! Let me just take a look at your work.” Yates swept the file off of Kyle’s desk as he headed into his office. Supposedly, he was going to return it, but he was most definitely going to steal all the details on it, then order Kyle to finish the paperwork.

Why did Kyle become a detective anyway, though? Most people pegged him for a lawyer or a doctor or something a little more respectable than a cop in a dirty desk. Well, one word, one name: Cartman. Well, not just Cartman. It would be society, but Kyle’s no Joker, so Cartman and a lot of other factors it is.

As a kid, Kyle would see a lot of the discrimination and crimes that would be tolerated by the force—mostly because they were white and sometimes rich. Although he would have like to have followed in the footsteps of his father of being a lawyer, he believed he wanted to be on the frontlines when it came to saving his community. Being a lawyer could just let others get away with the stupid, heinous shit they did as much as it helped those who were falsely accused of crime as well.

Whatever.

Tonight, despite the big plans for the evening, was lonely. It was, say, 9 PM? There were faint sounds of cars beeping in the distance, but what could most be heard were Kyle’s exhausted huffs as he lugged himself off the footsteps of his apartment. The crisp, cold air nipped at his exposed skin, which there wasn’t much of, but it still hurt. 

He was recently assigned to a case to solve the culprit behind a recent string of murders—and solve he did. He quickly, and probably obsessively, worked on the case, spending day and night to whittle down suspects and figure out the story behind the deaths of the victims.

It didn’t take long. In fact, he was pretty sure that he knew who it was: leader of the Black Stones, YN. The only thing was that he didn’t have a sufficient amount of evidence to prove her guilty. That’s why he’s out here, 9 PM, tonight, risking his life for the next few weeks. It wasn’t like it was required, though. It was a DIY investigation.

With this, he can finally prove that the station actually did its job. With this, he can get better work opportunities and be transferred to a higher position, and help more people. All the things that Captain Yates did for the force caused more harm to the community than any good. Hell, he told Kyle to just quit working and let the case be since everyone’s gonna die anyway.

Kyle would rather lose his badge and give up whatever power he has than ever think of doing that.

Getting to the bar, he sees his two co-workers: Kenny and Kevin. They were there to watch Kyle and help him with his case. To be a cushion to lie on if things go south, you know?

“Okay, do you two have any info on them?” Kyle said, referring to the Black Stones.

“Well,” Kenny chirped. “They’re there, but Bebe and YN look like they want to leave.”

“Yeah, so act quick!” Kevin added.

“Go get it, Kyle! We’ll watch you from the sides. Just tap our backs if you want out.” Kenny cheered, patting his back.

“I’m not gonna tap out, Kenny.” He sighed. “This case is the most important thing that’s ever happened to me. If I give up on or blow it, I might as well be a dead man.”

“Don’t say that!” Kevin pouted. “I’m sure you’ll do well, Kyle.” He gave him a reassuring smile. “Now go.”

Kyle nodded, huffing out a breath as opened the door and entered, slamming it a bit too hard.

next chapter.

[righteousfag]

please help a disabled trans artist get out of his shitty hometown

hi, everybody! my name is riley and i'm a 25-year-old transmasc artist in the Midwestern US. the past week or so has been almost catastrophically bad, but i'm gonna try to list out everything that's going on concisely:

i haven't been able to find a job since i worked at spirit halloween last October. it's extremely difficult to find a customer service job in my area that doesn't require you to work near full-time hours and run yourself ragged.

i'm on SSI benefits, so i can't make more than a certain amount a month or else i'll lose those benefits, including my medicare insurance plan.

my roommate gave me ten minutes notice that they were moving out last Thursday, leaving me with less than two weeks to find a job to make up for the entirety of rent, utilities, and the car payment, all of which we were splitting since i had to drive them everywhere.

i can't afford this apartment by myself. rent is $725/month, car payment is $300/month (including car insurance), combined utilities are as high as $200/month... and i only get $1,300/month for SSI. do the math and you'll see why this is sending me into a panic.

unfortunately, my lease doesn't end until february of next year, and they charge us to end our leases early - but at this point, i don't know what else to do.

my boyfriend and i have talked this through, and we've decided that as soon as i am able to save up at least $5,000 (whether that money comes from donations or my next job, whichever comes first), we're going to pack my shit up and i'm going to move up to Oregon with him.

if you can reblog this to help me get the fuck out of this ass-backwards, transphobic, hick-filled metro, i'd really, really, really appreciate it. if you can donate, even better.

links:

paypal (direct): presidentskeleton@hotmail.com

paypal (fundraiser): link here

cashapp: rdeclanshepard

[toonformers]

Alright guys, there's something I need to say/ask. Uh so I'm grounded. I can't use my phone unless it's for college stuff and yea- I'm a college student who's grounded. Point is I come from a nice family, who unfortunately has always set hugh expectations from me and honestly just destroyed my mental health as a result. I planned to move out from where I live (currently with my parents until I finish my bachelor's degree) once all my school stuff was done, but I just can't wait anymore. In short, I'm looking to move out immediately

But as you expect, moving out requires money, of which I have very little of since as of current I'm fully dedicated to my studies. Getting a job would put too much stress on my life rn, so I plan to do that when the semester is over (plus my parents would suspect if I get a job now). I want to be able to get the money I need to rent an apartment quickly tho, so I can just leave as fast as possible. My question for you guys is how many of you would be willing to support me out of this situation through commissions? If you can't do that, would you be willing to at least reblog any future announcements for commissions I may have? I need to know just to be sure it's okay to set that up here, or if I need another plan to raise the money I need. Let me know. Thanks!

[gobbluthbutagirl]

going on desktop to post this which is something i have not done in so long that as it turns out i had been automatically logged out due to inactivity. anyway i had to have a readmore and i guess if you read more you’ll see why on account of this is so fucking embarrassing. but i think perhaps i need to be put down so bad it makes me look stupid. and here’s why: i straight up ditched my family in santa monica last night. we had a hotel room that was nicer than my apartment and i left it and i walked a mile to the train station and rode a train and then another train for approximately 90 minutes to get back to my apartment. and i don’t even know why i did it. i think something inside of me just snapped or broke or whatever and i realized i simply do not want to speak to any of these people ever again. and it’s not like they’ve even done anything to me. i do not know what is wrong with me and i have been avoiding their attempts to contact me all day. and they are now almost back to the airport and they have not seen me in some 22 hours. and i don’t know what the hell my problem is. but i do not want to see them ever again. and it’s not like i can say that because i mean they’re about to fly cross-country and what if i said that and then their plane crashed and they died. how could i ever live with myself(said while unsure i can live with myself as-is).

but it’s like. i already barely speak to my mom and have no plans to return to south carolina ever. it would NOT be difficult to just cut contact with them all completely. and i’m sure everyone is already wondering what the hell is wrong with me due to me ditching them in santa monica and i don’t know. it just seems right to have their last memory of me ever be a betrayal. also not to brag but i think i might be leading a more hopeless existence than anyone else in all earth’s history has led ever. and i kind of hope my job fires me so i have a valid reason to kill myself. and it’s also my grandma’s birthday which is really the most unfortunate timing ever but i have already gotten a passive-aggressive text from my mother reminding me that it’s my grandma’s birthday and i will be neither responding to that text nor wishing her a happy birthday which is another great reason for everyone to hate me. and i think they should make a suicide hotline that you call and then the guy tells you that you SHOULD kill yourself because if such a thing existed it would either push me over the edge or make me so mad that i would no longer be wanting to kill myself and either way i would win because i would no longer be feeling like this.

and here’s something really funny. i didn’t even have today off originally. i had to go back and request it off later because i found out their flight wasn’t leaving until like 11pm. i used my vacation day for this. i got PAID to let two garbage bags sit on the floor for six hours because that’s how long it took me to stop crying long enough to take them out. i don’t deserve to get paid for that. i deserve to get KILLED for that. and everything about my life just sucks so much. it just sucks SO much. and i am not willing to put in ANY of the effort required to change that right now because why even bother. what’s even the point. i have suffered for so long and so relentlessly that if anything good ever DID happen to me i wouldn’t even know what the hell i was supposed to do with it. and the last time i viewed myself as a human being the year was 2008 and i was 11. and this is why “i started a joke” by the bee gees is my all-time top track on spotify

[ebdanon]

hope you're alright after work <3 and tw for bugs and another long ask lmao

to be honest, we don't have access to mental health resources, that kind of stuff is expensive here, and we already spent a bunch on trying to figure out what was physically wrong with both of us first, during which time my husband (he got ibs) was not working because it was physically impossible for him, and I (thyroid issues) stopped getting paid from the freelance work I do (I'm still owed about 10k which is enough for a down payment on an apartment in the most expensive part in my country) which put us in a ridiculously tight spot. we had to move out of our apartment and start living with my in-laws, which is where more crazy has just been tacked on. it's been a very shitty couple of years in terms of what other people have been doing that directly affects us, but we're trudging on anyway. we finally started applying for jobs abroad, which we couldn't really do until we moved because it was constantly dealing with doctors and with health issues, and scrambling together money for bills and rent and overall living, and then the building got infected with cockroaches which was the cherry on top when we both finally said "we're outta here" and moved out in like 2 days (we knew the consequences of doing that). the day we decided to do that, we were up until 5am - me shrieking at each new baby cockroach I saw, and my husband killing them (I'm terrified of bugs), because a cockroach laid some eggs in a door frame in the apartment. that same week our vacuum made a loud noise and smoke just started coming out of it and it broke, the stovetop also broke, a repairman came and tried to fix it a bunch of times so we had no stove for 4-5 days (which was awful because my husband has to eat carefully cooked meals, and the only thing we could use to cook was the oven, which is ridiculously limiting on an already limited diet), and two of the ceiling lights went out. and then I got a flare up (different health issue) on top of everything which meant I was in bed for a couple of days. it was the worst week of 2023.

we've been applying for the last 6 months, and it's been nothing but rejections because we require visas to move to the countries we're applying to (it's the literal explanation we've been receiving which is a great thing as it's not our skills or something), but it's fine, one of us will find a job at some point (I hope soon) and we'll get to get out of this shithole of a country filled with shitty people. I'm definitely getting a therapist when we're out of here though, I've wanted to talk to one for years but my plan has always been to do that when I leave this country. Mental health is very much taboo here sadly, which contributes to many of the issues people tend to face. Also fun fact, the last time we applied for jobs abroad was at the end of 2019, and then the pandemic happened which meant all the embassy shut down and the applications got canceled (it was a different application system back then). The plan was to get the marriage certificate and start applying again, but the drama happened and we needed to decompress. Then the plan was to start asap after the decompression and then all the health issues happened. Have you ever seen a train wreck lmao it's just me trying to get the hell out of this country since I was 12 BUT IT WILL HAPPEN ONE DAY I JUST KNOW IT WILL (can you feel the desperation lmao)

i know that may have sounded worrisome but don't worry about me and my lore-filled asks, things will work out, they always do

i really hope you guys are able to get the hell out soon :( the job market here in america (idk where ur applying but might be the same elsewhere anyway because the pandemic fucked everything up for everyone) is absolutely atrocious rn so i wish you the best of luck!! you’re right when you say things work out i know they will for you 🫶 it just takes time unfortunately :( but hopefully soon

also as a fellow renter im crying for you with that apartment stuff jeez. it always feels like everything happens at once tbh

[winderlylandchime]

1/2 Apologies for sending these two updates so late unfortunately i was required to be an adult with a job which is why I’m sending these a little late. Anyway let’s just go straight into 4x09: in case anyone wondered, he still dances to the intro (the song has also joined his playlist). Scene starts with the lasers and Brian’s crotch/radiation or whatever: ‘what the fuck.. VIC, what are you doing? I miss you so much Vicky boo (Vic says that ‘you might have a few good years like me’ line) IS THAT WHY THEY HAD BRIAN SAY THAT? To do a little parallel or what? Oh shit, he’s doing radiation. ALL ALONE?! WHAT THE FUCK. YOU NEED BLONDIE’ the groan that he just let out because of ben still being jealous over Michael, holy shit he hates him right now. ‘BRIAN! THE NURSE SAID TO GO HOME! Why are you at work! This is why we need Justin back (justin is waiting for him) oh never mind, great minds think alike. Brian be nice towards the love of your life. Cynthia, my girl.. my woman.. don’t listen to him. Help Justin get Brian back’ The scene where Justin gets angry at Michael came up ‘oh WAIT THATS LIKE THAT TIME IN THE LAST SEASON WHEN MIKE TOLD BRI..wait no, this is different BUT I AGREE GOOD FOR YOU JUSTIN! Fuck you mike!…wait do Lindsay and Melly know Bri Bri has cancer? They need to find out!’ ‘Yeah, fuck you Mike! Tell him Justin! No dont honor those wishes Blondie! Go get your man back! There is no way that he would just leave a sick Brian all alone. Mike *waves his hands all over the place frantically* do something good for once’ and the scene with Ben and his student is up ‘wow..he actually found someone that doesn’t think he’s boring. Congrats benny’ ‘Emmett, baby i will cook for you! Even though i did start a fire in my apartment because i forgot to add water to my noodles but it happens to everyone’ the scene with Ted and Brian is up ‘Teddy!! Its nice to see him back. Oh no, Brian, he doesn’t look good. See! Ted can tell something is up! Wait.. he thinks he’s on drugs? (Ted says that iconic caffeine line) okay now IM feeling attacked..BRIAN, TELL HIM! OH MY GOD HE TOLD HIM! *pauses ep* Ted is the first person he actually told himself. Fuck this is big. I knew there was potential here, it only took drugs, rehab and cancer. (Ted starts stuttering in shock) THATS HOW I REACTED TOO TED! Its horrible, i know! He’s so sweet, all ‘could you excuse me for a moment’ what a cutie, i lov-(brian pukes) oh…okay.. still polite though. THIS IS WHY WE NEED JUSTIN! Ted call Justin!’ He paused the ep on Brian laying down after he tells Ted to call him a cab and he put his hand on his chin and actually teared up. Just staring at Brian all sick. And now we’re back at Ben and his student ‘oh come on! Nobody gives a shit. Ben, don’t take this the wrong way but i don’t care.’ ‘SHANDA AND EMMETT! (Em introduces himself) im sorry, you expect me to believe that they didn’t know each other before that horrible thing happened? Please, my baby Emy has all the drag queens numbers just like moi!’ ‘MIKE WANTS TOM CRUISE TO BE RAGE? I doubt scientology allows that. I cant think of any actor that would be good rage… although in season 1 i did think he kinda looked like that dude from 70s show *whispers to himself* nobody can be rage but Brian..*looks at his cat* aint that right Brian?’ Carl says he’s been seeing someone ‘so stop seeing them. Oh wait like as in romantic?! NOOOO CARL HAS A GIRLFRIEND?! WHAT THE FUCK? But I kinda like him now!’ And Ted’s presentation is up and he immediately started laughing ‘wait wait wait, isnt this how it was in the pilot or something like that? I swear Brian was tossing an apple while doing a presentation as well *looks at me scared* or did i make that up? YES CYNTHIA AND TED! I fuck with them. (Cynthia tells ted to fuck the client) OKAY GIRL! SHE IS AN ALLY JUST LIKE ME! She is literally me’ he was so proud of Ted for nailing the account, literally clapped for him. The Sam/Linds scene is up ‘…i don’t like this. It’s weird. I can’t put a finger on it but it’s eh..weird so stop it! Im getting embarrassed for you Linds’

You haven’t sent them “late” - there’s no deadline lol. Also I’m on the West Coast and a night owl (or a constantly tired bird of some sort but I don’t go to sleep until late). Like please stayed employed anon. I love your brother but he’s not worth losing your job over.

Oh Ben’s student doesn’t find him boring but wait until he reveals what he really wants…

Tearing up as Ted becomes the first person Brian tells, I’m tearing up reading that!

HA! Emmett and Shanda not knowing each other is hard to believe, isn’t it? Especially if your brother knows all his local queens.

Did your brother think Gale looked like Ashton Kutcher? I AM DYING DEAD.

Cynthia! The fandom’s favorite wing woman. We should have had more Cynthia and less Lindsay.