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writing-with-gremworm · 6 months

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Train Wreck Pup, Adopted

Here's a little thing I wrote based on a TikTok I saw a while back. Crewel was the first character I thought of, so I decided to make a very indulgent fanfic chapter based on the concept. It's a modern AU and Ren, the Insert/reader, meets him on a train. This is probably the longest piece of singular writing I'll post for a long time, but oh well.

Notes:

Crewel is a platonic/filial Soft!Yandere

Epel, Vil, and Neige show up in the latter half.

Non-Canon characters feature prominently.

This follows Indulgent FanFic tropes

Non-Canon Yanderes are included

This Universe has a fairly high density of Yanderes even if they don't showcase such features in the segment of the story.

Inclusion of a character sibling

TW: Yandere (In the latter half), Swearing, Mild Violence

“An E-Mail? Was I denied entry into the event? … Woah, Woah! I got in!! I still need a few more designs, but I can start actually putting some of these looks together in the frenzy! This is so cool.” I hop up from my chair and twirl around a few times, stopping and excitedly shaking my hands. “Yay! Oh, shoot- I need to leave tonight- Thank you organizers for the free ticket. But aaaahhh rushed prep time!” I add after glancing back at the E-mail.

Before long I’m out the door with a suitcase in one hand and my sketchbook in the other ready to board the train. While waiting for the train I open my phone and glance at the rules for the Flash Forward Frenzy fashion event

“Oh right, I should message Vera later. I can do that on the train. Rules first.” I mumble.

The event surrounded using old materials to create new looks. Clothes that were maybe used once and thrown away were collected to be used and made into outfits we could wear. The event itself was a massive hit, it was always fun to watch people create incredible things out of the most unexpected materials. But it was an even more exciting time this year since the esteemed Divus Crewel, Vil Shoenheit, and Neige LeBlanche were going to be there as guest stars designing alongside smaller names like myself.

I am well aware of the fact that I’m unlikely to run into big-name figures like Divus or Vil, but I’m excited to see their works regardless. Vil is also a prominent actor, so I’m certain that his presentation of works will have an air of drama and intrigue. My designs aren’t going to be as glamorous, but they will be different and interesting. I’m confident that they’ll fill in someone else’s niche desires if nothing else. Luckily the rules don’t say anything again the use of magic to process fabrics. Given this, I can use my ability to create a base from the drawings I’ve already made and the necessary fabrics and thread, which are provided for the event. I can only do this once or twice per day for extremely complex ideas due to the amount of magic it takes. I don’t want to risk an over-blot from excess magic use on stage, so I’ll save magic for my most intricate piece.

My thoughts are interrupted by the arrival of the train. The ride is twelve hours with various stops between here and the Glamour Isle. Needless to say, I have plenty of time to work on more concepts while I’m on the train. After about two hours someone sits next to me, but I don’t look at them since I’m busy and that could be rude. At some point in time, I hear a familiar disapproving sigh from their general direction. I ignore it at first to finish my sketches and notes for a piece from my fantasy set.

“Why does it sound so familiar though?” I mumble to myself before glancing over to where I heard the sigh. It feels like my face should contort in surprise when I realize who it is, but surprisingly I just stare blankly for a moment before shaking my head.

“Ah sorry for staring.” I quickly mumble as Divus Crewel of all people looks back at me and smiles with a tinge of concern, “You must be on your way to Glamour Isle too then?” I mumble awkwardly. I already knew that he was going in that direction, but I didn’t know what else to say since I had already begun to engage in a, perhaps one-sided, conversation.

“You don’t plan on wearing something like that in Glamour Isle do you?” Divus asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Ah, I mean I think this is fine? My work is going to be center stage with everyone else’s, I don’t really need to stand out, just my work does.”

“My my, and you have such an interesting design palette too. A pup like you would do well with proper grooming. No show dog looks scruffy on stage my dear, and neither should you.” Did he compare me to a show dog? Wait, he’s actually talking to me? I mean he’s belittling my pathetic messy dad aesthetic, but like, he’s talking to me?

“Ah- well. Yes. You’re correct, but in the case of show dogs, the stage is set for them to display their obedience, finesse, and beauty. I don’t see how this correlates to me specifically when a fashion show is about fashion and its resonance with the models and crowd. But I appreciate the compliment. I’m quite proud of my capabilities and I’m excited to share them.” I start a little nervous before settling into a matter-of-fact tone.

“Little pup, fashion is about far more than just aesthetics. Appearance has a larger impact than you may realize. As an aspiring designer, it’s important to note the politics as well.”

“I suppose that makes sense. Thank you for the advice. I’ll make sure to keep it in mind.” I say with a small smile. I look back at my work and sketch for a bit longer before giving my hands a break and doing quick hand exercises. I can’t help but glance over at Divus a couple of times after that just to see if he’s still judging my fashion or whatever caught his attention before. This was starting to feel like a dream. For one, no one was approaching Divus Crewel which is unusual, but he was sitting next to me to attend the same event which meant he might take a closer look at my work. Around the four-hour mark, Divus spoke to me again.

“It’s good to be serious about your work, but you still have a couple of days until the event takes full swing. For now, you should rest or you’ll be exhausted when you reach the Isle. Pups that exhaust themselves needlessly miss playing with their owners.” He chimes leaning back leisurely but still exuding elegance and an air of authority.

“I’ll be fine. But thank you for your concern.” I say after a small pause allowing me to process what just happened.

“There aren’t going to be many passengers in this train car. That can quell your concerns about taking up space or being a bother if that is what holds you back.” Divus states confidently.

“Ah, well that is one thing. But I’ve always had difficulties sleeping in moving vehicles. I can close my eyes and drift a bit, but any unusual movement or stop will jolt me awake. I’m not sure how much that little bit of rest would help haha.” I explain after a few moments of silence. I didn’t want to lie to him or come up with something that he could feasibly change for me that I just didn’t realize. I already felt like I was accruing debt by talking to him quite frankly.

“Have you ever ridden this train before? I think you’ll find that you can hardly tell when it has stopped.” I think back to earlier when the train stopped and Divus walked onto the train. He was right, it had not been super noticeable. In fact, it was so difficult to tell that I almost didn’t realize anyone got on until he sat next to me.

“Huh, I guess you’re right. I didn’t really notice when the train stopped to let you on. I mean, of course, the sound stopped, but there was enough other white noise from the lights and other cars that it didn’t register.” Though of course now I was far more worried about bothering the Divus Crewel rather than actually being tired. Naturally, I didn’t want to say that out loud though, it might be irritating. He must have noticed somehow though because his next words were:

“Don’t concern yourself with bothering me. I was the one who suggested you rest. You should simply follow my instructions like an obedient pup. I’ll even set an alarm for you if you’re a good boy.” What followed was an amused chuckle as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. I open my mouth to speak but instead let out a sigh and mumble a small thank you and smile before placing my sketchbook on my lap and leaning back in my seat. Divus stifles another laugh but the tapping indicates he really did set a timer for me. It’s strange to be so pampered by a celebrity. Though honestly, I doubt we’ll chat much after this, I didn’t even give him my name.

– Somehow I manage to fall asleep. I even begin to dream. Once in a while, I have vivid dreams that I recall after waking up. This already felt like one of them because I knew I was dreaming. “Oh good boy, you’re here on time. I wanted to introduce you to one of my students. I’m sure you’re well aware of who he is so there is no need for me to elaborate.” Divus states with a flourish of his hand gesturing to the Vil Shoenheit. “Ah, Vil Shoenheit, of course, why wouldn’t it be? It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m Ren.” I mumble tiredly with a little wave. Vil crosses his arms and places a hand on his chin thoughtfully. “I see, I can salvage this, no, I will polish it into a diamond.” Vil nods lightly with an expression revealing he is already planning my demise. I mean my prettification. “Salvage? Polish? Wait- Divus- Sorry Crewel, did you want me to meet him to fix my wardrobe?” “You catch on quite quickly. But there’s a bit more to it than that. You’ll be working together on a project I have in mind. I expect only the best from you pups.” “Wait what?” Vil and I ask at the same time. Then the dream just ends. –

I wake up to the sound of quiet chatter and the alarm.

“Good evening,” I mumble groggily before sitting up. It takes me a moment to realize that sitting up means I either fell over or leaned over in my sleep, “Ah I’m sorry, I usually don’t move much in my sleep so I didn’t expect to fall over or anything.” I mumble apologetically.

“Perhaps you should have laid down from the beginning. You’d be less likely to hit your head that way. But you did sleep, so good boy. We’ll be arriving at the next stop in about half an hour.” Crewel informs me.

“Haha, yeah maybe. Ah, thank you.” I mumble before noticing my sketchbook isn’t in my hands, “Wait where did it go?” I mumble looking around before noticing that Crewel was holding it. I feel my face flush out of embarrassment. I doubt he looked through it, but I can’t help but feel a little bit flustered that he could have.

“I did look through a couple of designs,” Oh no, “They’re quite intriguing. I expect only the best from you during the event.” Oh no he looked through them. But he liked them so that’s good. But also why did he look through them? “I don’t think I caught your name earlier.” He adds with an expectant smile.

“Oh um- I’m Ren. I’m already familiar with you and your designs, it would be more surprising if I wasn’t. I’m glad you have such high expectations for me, it’s quite the compliment. Though I’m not sure I’ll match them. Thank you Crewel.” I say quickly, stumbling over my words a few times and rubbing the back of my neck.

“So that’s how you gathered I would be going to Glamour Isle as well. I’m a little surprised you didn’t ask for my autograph or bombard me with questions considering you ended up in my train car.”

“Wait- your train car?” I mumble before thinking things over, “Oh, OH, that’s why you said no one else would be here, no one else was supposed to be here. I can’t believe I just barged in I’m so sorry, you could have asked me to leave. I didn’t mean to invade your personal space.”

“Calm down little pup. Had I wanted you to leave I would have instructed you to do so. If you weren’t obedient I would have gotten them to take the rabid pup away.” Crewel states a bit amused, gesturing to the other figures in the train car.

“Ah right, they must have been your people then, or otherwise people with the association running the event to ensure your comfort. But I was here for two hours before you. Why didn’t they just ask me to leave then?”

“You’re not exactly intimidating, you’re also a child are you not?”

“Um … I’m not a child, actually I’m 20.”

“You are? Then you’re a bit older than most of my other pups, though your height wouldn’t give that away. You may be even shorter than Riddle. No matter, you weren’t a threat, and it’s clear you’re more interested in work than causing trouble.”

“Still though …” I start before thinking it over. Had they wanted me to leave this car they’d have taken me out. So I guess I had accidentally gotten permission to be here. Additionally, this chance encounter was going to be one of the most memorable meetings, so I’m not really upset about being here.

“Well since you were fine with it, thank you for letting me stay. It’s a lot quieter than the other cars would have been I’m sure.” I mumble with a small smile before opening my phone to review the E-Mail again. The organizers had established a room I would be staying in as well, which was awesome and unlike any other event I had attended.

“Do you know where the Glamrock Hotel is?” Crewel asks before I can look it up.

“Ah, no I’ve never been to Glamour Isle for an event before, so I don’t know where anything is actually,” I admit rubbing my neck again.

“Well as a teacher I suppose I should guide you,” Crewel states a bit amused with the strange logic he’d presented me.

“Uh- well I guess technically that would be accurate. You’re being quite generous. Hm, you said earlier to think about politics, what exactly do you gain from helping me? Not that there has to be an ulterior motive, but I am curious.”

“You catch on quite quickly little pup. Though I’m not asking for anything but your time at this moment. Additionally, If you meet my expectations like a well-trained pup, I’ll be in touch after the event.” Crewel says with an amused grin. I wasn’t sure why he was so amused, but I was certainly pumped to make the most beautiful set of outfits I could muster. The last half an hour felt like it flew by. Somehow I was making small talk with Divus Crewel in what I now knew was technically his private train car with trained mages around us. It was fantastical in nature and my heart was beating like crazy.

After we arrived on the Isle, Crewel accompanied me to the hotel because we were going to stay at the same hotel. It was strange but so cool. Admittedly if he was anyone else I would be wondering if he was trying to groom me, the negative kind, not taking care of myself grooming. But Crewel is well known to be skilled and generous, and his gestures were by no means romantic or sexual in nature, if anything it was like he was going to adopt a new puppy. Also, he had set up a number of events and attended even more as a guest and he did not tolerate nonsense. Had I bothered him, it’s possible I wouldn’t be in Glamour Isle, I’d be home.

Either way, when I made it to my room I smooshed my face into a pillow and let out sounds of pure excitement before pacing around my room and flapping my hands in excitement.

“Aaaahhh, I can’t believe the Divus Crewel spoke to me. This is awesome, I’m so nervous but excited for how this event is going to turn out oh my god.”

Since I slept on the train I wasn’t very tired so I decided to work on my designs a bit more and do some extra research before going to bed. When I did sleep I ended up having the same dream as before. I woke up early and reviewed the E-Mail again to make sure that I was keeping the dates organized in my head.

After taking a shower and changing into something slightly less dad-core, but still technically awful, I hear a knock on my door. I blink a few times before checking the peephole.

“!” I silently scream seeing the Divus Crewel on the other side. I quickly open the door before he knocks again and he grimaces upon seeing me.

“I couldn’t erase your disaster of a wardrobe from my mind, We’re going to fix … this. At least temporarily.” Crewel motions to all of me.

“Oh thanks, I’m so glad you remembered me for dressing like an unfashionable dad. But this is about the best I have in my suitcase. Wait, is this what you meant by asking for my time?” I admitted frowning a bit and looking over my outfit. It really wasn’t that bad, even normal one might say. Despite the dad-core vibes, it was definitely wearable.

“How astute an observation. Grab some of the clothes you aren’t attached to and come along little pup, this is going to be a very busy day.”

He was right of course. As soon as I followed him out of my hotel room I could tell he would be. He listed the plans for the day in order. It was kind of nice to be doted on in a weird sort of way. Though I was confused as to why I had Crewel’s attention at this point. There was no way he would actually keep in contact and introduce me to Vil Shoenheit after the event. It was just a weirdly realistic dream after all. Things are just weirdly lining up like that might be at all possible when I’m sure it is just Crewel being kind. Yes, just kindness.

Following that, our busy day started by heading to breakfast followed by a trip to the hair salon. After my hair was tidied up, though still the same hairstyle, we went to a number of different stores. All of them were sustainable and gave store credit for every item you traded in. Once he’s established the style I was comfortable with we found a few different outfits that looked good scattered throughout various stores. Each of the pieces could be rearranged, but they were notable on their own. Each pairing made a different feeling and it was very clear that some enhanced aesthetic while others undermined it. Some of the dark academia and cottage core pieces did not work well together.

After finding outfits and trading away my old clothes he took me to find accessories. I insisted that I should pay for everything, but he refused and simply stated that I can bring my ideas into reality well to pay him back. I can’t tell if that feels more like a compliment or a threat, but it’s certainly flattering. Somehow we fit all of that in before lunch and there was still more to do. By the end of everything I was exhausted, though extremely grateful.

“I’ll make the best version of my designs possible. That’s what you’re asking for in return right?” I ask on the trip back to the hotel.

“Good boy, you listen well. I’ll see what you can do in two days when it begins.” Crewel responds with a nod and a slight smile. – It's time for the event. We have two days to complete four outfits as a complete set using the magic tools and our own abilities to complete them as quickly but skillfully as possible. It's a challenge that many enjoy watching and admire. I’m a little nervous to be on TV, but I think that if I focus solely on my craft I can make it. Especially since I can essentially focus on one and use magic to create another since it's two separate days and I only need four outfits.

Now that I reviewed the game plan it feels less intimidating. The curtain opens to reveal the piles of clothes and materials we have access to before letting up find what we need. A few of the others sort through the pile with magic to locate exactly what they need. I sort through them by hand and feel the fabric textures before taking them back to my station where my assigned tools sit.

At the six-hour mark, we’re given an hour-long lunch and bathroom break. I definitely needed the food since I skipped breakfast. After the break, we get immediately back into work for the remaining six hours of that day. I finish the first piece two hours into the second half and use magic to form most of the second one before detailing it during the four remaining hours. By the time the timer goes off, I have two of the four outfits complete even. Additionally, I still have more fabric that can be used for parts of the first outfit for the next day set up at my station.

The next day I arrive early and notice that something is wrong with the more complicated outfit. Someone had cut it up. It was like a nightmare. It completely ruined my plan to make the clothes as efficiently as possible. Frustrated and upset I wanted to cry, but instead, I decided to improvise and alter the design slightly to include the visualization of the cuts rather than attempt careful and seamless mending. It takes two hours and I lose another hour finding more fabrics. So I decided to reorganize my magic use and create two bases with as much detail as I can manage before reaching my magic limit.

But the half point of the second day I’m exhausted but I manage to gain enough energy to finish and add the final details to the four outfits before the timer runs out. I stumble a bit feeling a bit nauseous now that the magic use and intense focus for twenty-four hours total were exhausting. After the timer goes off I sit down and wait for almost everyone else to leave before one of the people associated with the event walks over to me. I ask them to make sure that no one tampers with my outfits again overnight since someone had cut up mine and perhaps other people’s outfits the night before. They agree to tighten security and make sure that it was impossible for it to happen again. A bit uncertain of how successful they would be I start thinking of ways to justify asking to fix my outfits quickly before the show if I had to.

Using my magic to its fullest two days in a row was really pushing it. If I did so again I might end up sick. I don’t think that over-blots are supposed to make you sick. But it is convenient that I don’t go into a destructive frenzy overtaken by magic when I over-blot at least. I just almost die instead. Which I guess may be technically worse for me, but it is less awful for everyone else.

“Are you alright? I saw how tired you were earlier. I can get someone to help you back to your room, or you could stay in mine since it is on the first floor.” A familiar soft and slightly high-pitched voice asks. Looking at him I see it’s Neige LeBlanche.

“Ah I’m fine, thank you for your concern.” Why were all these celebrities so nice to me? I mean it has only been two so far, but that’s still a lot for me.

“Can I at least escort you to your room? You look a bit unsteady and I don’t want you to fall.” Neige voices his concern with a worried smile.

“There’s no need to go that far. I’m only on the second floor, so I’ll manage.” I say, though admittedly I was less confident about actually getting to the hotel than walking up a set of stairs.

“Then I’ll at least help you get to the hotel.” Neige insists.

“While that’s kind of you Neige, you don’t need to be concerned with them. I was already going to escort this pup back.” Crewel steps in unexpectedly. There’s no way that Crewel just told Neige LeBlanche that we were going to head back to the hotel together. It feels like a dad trying to keep a romantic interest away from his child. Which is funny because if anything he’s like a little brother. Well younger brother, he’s definitely a little taller than me.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you were acquainted with Divus.” Neige comments a little surprised.

“Crewel.” Crewel corrects.

“Crewel. But were you really planning on walking back with him?” Neige asks with doubt lingering over his words.

“Yes, we agreed to meet after the event since we had a chance encounter before this,” I explain, technically not lying, though assuming that since he came to find me he was impressed with my work.

“Oh, if that’s the case then we should meet again at some point too. I really admire your ability to work through challenges. Here, one moment.” Neige takes out his business card and hands it to me, “I hope you rest well tonight. You were Ren, right? I heard your conversation with the security personnel before.” That definitely sounded like an excuse, though I guess it’s possible for Neige to admire me. Just unlikely.

“Ah- yes my name is Ren. Well-”

“Well thank you Neige, but we should probably head back since the reveals and show are tomorrow. We wouldn’t want to be too tired now would we?”

“Ah yes of course. Well, it was a pleasure meeting you Ren, call the number on that card when you get the chance, I’ll see you around!” Neige leaves with his manager and a few guards.

“That was unexpected,” I mumble with a light sigh before remembering who was standing next to me.

“It was. Though I suppose he was right, you don’t look well. Perhaps I should carry you back.” Crewel muses.

“What? No there’s no need to carry me, I’ll be fi-” I begin before nearly falling over after another wave of exhaustion hits me. Crewel catches me.

“You’re small enough it won’t be an issue little pup. Besides which you look like you’re about to fall asleep. It would be unwise to travel on your own feet in that state. Tsk tsk, you really need to learn to take care of yourself.” He states picking me up bridal style.

“I- Thank you.” I conceded. I could tell he was right, I was exhausted. Even still I wanted to protest about how I didn’t want to owe him more, or how I didn’t think it was necessary. Despite those thoughts, my eyes were having trouble even staying open so I just closed them. – Before I knew it I was awake in my hotel bed, slightly disheveled and wearing my clothes from the night before.

“Oh. My. God. Did I fall asleep on Crewel again? Well I mean it wasn’t confirmed the first time but aaaahhh.” I immediately panic and place my hands over my face before realizing I need to get ready and look presentable for the showcase. “Ah, I don’t have time to panic,” I mumble before showering, dressing up, and eating an apple that was left on my bedside table with a small note not to skip breakfast in Crewel’s handwriting.

“Geeze, he really is like a dad at this point. It’s not like he adopted me as a pu- child though. It’s weirdly nice how comfortable he is to be around though.” I mumbled looking at the note with a bit of warmth filling my chest. It was nice to feel cared about.

With one big breath, I turn towards the door and head out. Though I had a weird feeling that something went wrong so I hurried to the venue where our outfits should be. I ask if I can check over my outfits quickly because they had been sabotaged before. Luckily I was let in since my outfits were all damaged in some way. It was devastating, and there wasn’t any fabric to fix them. Except for what I was wearing.

“I could use my coat and undershirt and still look mostly presentable while fixing them,” I mumble quietly, my voice shaking more than I wanted it to. Despite still feeling drained, I used my magic again, allowing it to flow through my fingertips to mend the fabric to the shape I desired it to with the fabric I was using in hand. It was a different colour, but the colour matched well enough that it looked intentional. Reaching the fourth outfit I could feel the strength in my legs waning, but I had to fix it.

Even if Crewel was already impressed, I wanted to fix this. To not let the stranger tampering with my work win. I needed to make them feel their efforts were wasted, that after everything I was fine. As my hands glided over the last portion that needed to be fixed a few people started coming in to check their outfits as well. Only mine had been tampered with. I felt my hands shaking as they let go of the now-mended fabric.

“Tsk tsk. What did I say regarding work and rest? Bad boy. You should ask for help if you’re in trouble.” Crewel scolds me before complimenting my handi-work, “It is well done, it looks intentional even. However, I can not condone overworking yourself because of the security’s lack of competence.”

“Haha, I remember. But I didn’t want to let whoever did this feel as if they’d won. I can’t let them feel like they’ve won. I don’t even know why they could be so upset with me.” Unless it is one of my old friends. They seemed to think the worst of me. But they wouldn’t do anything this devastating, would they? Well, Rachel might, but shockingly I didn’t see her here. I would have noticed someone I actively avoid.

“Hm, well your determination is a valuable asset. I suppose it’s a good thing I’m also a potions master. This will sustain you for the duration of the showcase, however, you must rest for the next couple of days.” Crewel states handing me a potion he had on hand, “Sigh. I can’t believe you used some of your only decent clothes because of this. I’ll have to start from square one training this pup. Don’t make this a habit.”

“Wait training?” I ask after downing the potion in one gulp.

“Yes, I’ll be taking you under my wing little pup. As you may have surmised you have impressed me. Though this still needs fixing.” Crewel again motioned to all of me. Suddenly I was reminded of my dream from the past few nights.

“Hey, this may sound weird. But by any chance is Vil Shoenheit also one of your pupils who happens to be the one who may or may not be responsible for fixing my self-care habits and everyday wear?” I ask before the potion fully kicks in.

“Oh? So the little pup is already aware. He must have spoiled the surprise, I’ll have to punish him later.”

“Ah, no, I’ve just had this weird recurring dream about meeting Vil Shoenheit under your tutelage. I wasn’t going to ask initially, I guess being tired made me voice my thoughts. But I haven’t actually met Vil yet.” I explain quickly. Crewel furrows his brows for a moment before an expression of realization covers the confusion.

“Ah, so you’re good at pattern recognition. It’s not uncommon knowledge that Vil is one of my pupils, and you took note of the fact I was treating you well. You’ll be an excellent student. If you pick up on things this quickly anyways. I expect only good things from you.” Crewel states with an almost proud smile before motioning me to come with him to his waiting room where a screen displaying the showcase was attached to the wall.

He discusses specifics with me while we wait for the showcase to reach the point where we all enter the stage and talk about our work and inspirations. Excluding Vil, Neige, and Crewel, the rest of us attending the event are lined up in order to head out second. The three notable guests head out to speak first.

“Sustainability in fashion is one of the greatest difficulties of this industry. But with the systems set up here in Glamour Isle, fashion waste is dwindling away and instead becoming fashion fuel. Isn’t that just incredible? Imagine all of the incredible things you can curate with such an array of fabrics, Imagine how much you can do exchanging materials and creating your personalized unique looks!” Neige starts, excitedly chattering about the benefits of sustainable fashion. Crewel and Vil both elaborate on this to varying degrees before everyone else is brought out and stood next to the models wearing their outfits.

I don’t notice the concerned look that Neige gives me. But I notice the fury of a familiar contestant near me. It was Dev-Ay. One of my ex-friends that happens to despise me. It shouldn’t be surprising that they’re here, they’ve always been skilled. But it does sting to think that they might have been so certain I was worth tormenting that they cut up my outfits. It also tells me that I probably didn’t notice people as much as I thought I would.

“I agree that sustainability and curating styles in this way are essential to bettering our society. It’s one of the reasons I was so excited to be a part of this project. Despite the unlikely mishaps, I had a blast creating designs influenced by the types of sustainable fabrics already being developed. It’s fascinating how through the use of orange peels or kelp beautiful sustainable fabrics can be created. My theme was Future Fantasy. Playing off of the alliteration of the event title, I wanted to curate looks that inspired the fantastical embrace of the future and the stories that such a future can hold. Imagine a sustainable world with glorious personalized fashion made for you. Fashion that makes you feel good and can aptly aid in your self-expression.” I begin as coherently as I can manage. Somehow my voice remains steady. Perhaps it is the desire to show Dev-Ay I am unaffected, or perhaps it was because I wanted to impress Crewel. But either way, I seemed to speak with a charisma I didn’t think I had. There was a prolonged moment of silence after I finished speaking before finally the live audience began to clap following Crewel’s and Neige’s examples. Their applause felt louder than any I had heard for me before and more impactful as it addressed my creations, it validated my ideas not some lame school speech. It was unexpected. Especially since afterward, the applause was noticeably quieter for the now flustered and disorganized Dev-Ay.

After the showcase, I felt my energy start to deplete rapidly. I figured that the potion was starting to wear off. Hopefully, I wouldn’t fall in front of Dev-Ay, I don’t want to give him fuel to berate me. While everyone else was chatting as the audience left and the models change, Dev-Ay approached me.

“Why? Why is it that you of all people did so well? Why couldn’t you just fold as you used to? Are you so proud now? Are you so proud after falsely accusing the one person that I love? You’ll never be anything but a pathetic liar who tears down other people. Are you upset because at least she liked being a girl? Were you mad that you couldn’t escape something that she accepted? Fuck you, fuck your whole fake-ass messaging. I despise you. I wish you would take a dive off the roof like you so badly wanted to before we were friends.” It took me a while to find the words I wanted to say. I didn’t know exactly what to say honestly. If he blamed me, then was there any way he would listen to me? Would he believe I was making excuses simply because I wanted to look good? Did he really want me to die because of this? Regardless I found my mouth moving before I could stop it.

“I don’t understand what my gender identity has to do with my distaste for Rachel. I was never upset at Rachel because she was cisgender. I think you of all people should understand that. Why are you so convinced that I lied to you? Do you love her so much you couldn’t see what she did to me? Has she never crossed your boundaries as she did to me? Or did you believe I actually withheld the information she conveniently forgot? That she claimed she forgot. I could be wrong. There is always the chance I misread her, but she hurt me and crossed my boundaries. I won’t go into the specifics again because you stopped listening to me years ago. But there’s no reason you should be this upset with me. The only way I hurt her was by telling her exactly what she had done and telling her that I couldn’t stay friends with her. I wasn’t wrong for standing up for myself like you never did for me. Your ability to trust seems like a blessing, but it may be a curse.” I respond with quiet, seething frustration, trying to remain as calm as possible but inevitably speaking poisonously. Before I know it I’m on the ground with blood pouring from my nose and a sore jaw. It takes me a moment to register what just happened. I try to get back up to my feet, but I can’t even move my legs to stand.

“Ren!” Neige called out with concern causing all eyes to turn toward Dev-Ay, Neige, and me. I bite my lip before trying desperately to tell my legs to move, but they simply shake beneath me on the floor as if they’re too scared to move. Too afraid that maybe they’re going to be hit next rather than my face.

“Dev-Ay. I was sincere when I told you I enjoyed being your friend and I was grateful for everything you had done for me.” I start, looking up at Dev-Ay who is clenching his hands into fists, “I don’t regret being friends with you, or stopping our friendship. I know that it was the right thing for me to do. I understand your anger. No, I understand that you are angry because you believe something I can not possibly fathom. But I never hated you. All I ask is that you let what happened to us remain in the past, it doesn’t benefit anyone to retain anger built on, at best, miscommunication.” I manage to say, smiling at Dev-Ay knowing it would make him angrier. Before he can respond Crewel and a few security officers walk over. The officers detain Dev-Ay who screams about how vile I truly am.

“That looks really bad Ren. Oh no, let me get some help.” Neige states with worry.

“I’ll take them to the nearest medic. You should calm the onlookers down.” Crewel states before picking me up again.

“Hah, I feel like a kid who got in a fight, and their overprotective dad came to pick them up,” I mumble in my exhausted delirium. The pain wasn’t even present anymore, I was just tired and numb.

“Haha, well I’ve taken a liking to you. Though next time someone punches you, bite back. Especially if it’s going to impact your precious face. You certainly have the charisma to back it up.”

“Aw, dad called me precious hehe. Thank you, you’ve really pampered me like a lil’ puppy while I was here. I feel weirdly comfortable with you. Man, I don’t want to fall asleep for a third time on you. It’s rude to use a celebrity like a pillow. And I’m not that charismatic, I’m just a bit silly.” I mumble with a yawn.

“You can fall asleep. You need it, and that potion, while good for a short time, does make you even more tired than before you use it. You did well, little pup. Though we have some training to do so you can do better in the future.”

“… Thank you,” I mumble quietly, avoiding leaning on Crewel with my bloody face as much as possible. I suppose he didn’t want the incompetent security to carry me this time, though I don’t know why he was compelled to carry me before. He really is like a father figure. I wish that I’d met him sooner. Maybe I wouldn’t have run into Rachel then. But I guess if I met him earlier I may have just been another kid, not someone of note.

The rest of the trip to a medic is in silence. When we get there the lady is nice and heals me with the stipulation that I rest for a solid two days to regain my energy. She asks if I have a guardian, to which I say of course, and that I will be fine under their care. Though how much of that will be true when I go back home is left to be decided. I don’t stay awake for too much longer, though I do hear a vague murmur of Crewel’s voice and phone chatter before I drift off to sleep.

– “Oh wow! This is amazing. Ren, you have to work with me on the next partner event that comes up. I would love to work with you!” Neige states as the dream fades into view. “Thank you. I’m quite flattered. Your designs are excellent as well.” I comment with a small smile before explaining that while it would be nice to work together I had already promised to work with someone else for the next event. Before I hear Neige’s reaction the dream shifts suddenly and I am in a cage. “I still love you you know. I was really hurt that you lied to Dev-Ya like that my sweet, adorable, Renny bird.” Rachel states with a certain sadness before reaching into the birdcage and caressing my face with her cold bony hands. “Why am I here?” I ask shakily before coughing a bit. My throat feels dry and my body feels cold. “Oh Renny, you know I can’t have you run away again. You’ll spread more lies and hurt more people. Unless I help you. Let me help you, I know I can fix you. Piece together the shattered pieces of you. Come here, I’ll give you a hug, just like before. We can make everything okay again.” Rachel says, her sickly sweet voice bouncing between the bars of the birdcage. I can’t say anything, I just stare at her as her arms elongate and weave through the bars to reach me. To touch me. To keep me trapped in this birdcage. –

I wake up with a start and sit up quickly before someone pushes me back into bed.

“What happened to you? Did you trip over the stairs? I warned you those long pants would make you fall dummy.” My sister Vera comments before sitting back down next to me, “Seriously though I was worried when I got a call to home about you being sick again. Did you overuse your magic?”

“Like you’re any better. Who are you to ask if I tripped on the stairs, didn’t you fall up a ramp that one time?”

“Oh shush you. You didn’t answer my question. What happened?”

“Dev-Ya punched me. I don’t know if he tried to sabotage my outfits yet, but I strongly suspect he was related to that too. Sorry I didn’t tell you about getting into the fashion thing. You weren’t home for a while anyways right?” I justify just recalling the fact I was planning on messaging her before and just didn’t.

“Ren, I wasn’t home sure, but you still should have told me! I would have come to see your work if it lined up with my work schedule.”

“Oh Vera, you’ll never guess who I met.”

“Oh really? Try me.”

“I met Divus Crewel.”

“Yeah I know that much, he was the one who called me. Imagine my surprise when the Divus Crewel was calling about my older sibling needing someone to drive them home. Bro, he asked if I was your older sister, how goofy were you to warrant that question?”

“Bro- It’s not my fault though. I just accidentally didn’t realize I got on the wrong train car and dressed enough like a hobo that he assumed I was a child.”

“Bro.”

“I know bro.”

“Going back a bit, I thought Dev-ya cut contact with you after that gross nasty did the bad thing I shall not name.”

“Oh yes, thank you for not naming the bad thing. But yeah, I thought nothing would come of it, but apparently, he was really mad at me. I wonder if Rachel encouraged this. I don’t think he would have acted as extreme otherwise.”

“I mean yeah maybe. But he was always kind of ick though.”

“I know, you were right. You’re always right when it comes to people.”

“Damn right I am.”

“Hey Vera, can you hand me my phone?”

“No, I can’t.” They say handing me the phone anyways. I smile at them lightly and open up my phone to check a few things. Firstly, if I had been contacted by Crewel since apparently he had found out my sibling’s number he may have found my contacts. Specifically “home” or otherwise Vera called my phone, but I couldn’t pick up because I was deliriously exhausted.

“Oh right, I was supposed to tell the Crewel you woke up. He acts more like your dad than our actual dad did haha.”

“Yeah, right? I was thinking the same thing. If he was still alive I wonder if that would have changed at all. I mean, it was really mom who was the worse parent, at least dad had an excuse.”

“I guess. But whatever, not the time. Time to message your ‘new dad’ since you seemed to have picked one up out of nowhere. You better not abandon me for another family.” Vera states rolling her eyes.

“Thanks, dad, and of course I won’t, you’re the only blood-related family I want to stay in contact with at the moment,” I say playfully rolling my eyes back at her.

Vera messages Crewel and much more quickly than I had anticipated he is in the room with us. We talked about a few things. Who Dev-Ya was, why he was so upset, what relation it had to my outfits, and why I lied about having a parental figure at home.

“Come to think of it. You’re a celebrity designer, you’re quite busy. Why did you come here directly to talk to us?” Vera asks.

“Well, while Ren is a student of mine, I was thinking that I could provide you with a better job as well and a place much closer to my design studio. If you’re all the other has, it would be rather cruel for me to separate you for a lengthy period of time. Despite how my name sounds, I’m not unreasonable.”

“Okay dad, sure thing. You’ve been really soft with me though. I don’t see how you would be. You just have high expectations right?”

“Say what you will little pup. I’m sure you’ll find I’m not as lenient as you seem to think I am. Also, Ren. How is it that your sister dresses so fashionably and you dressed as you called it in ‘an unfashionable dad aesthetic’?” Crewel asks, raising a brow.

“I uh, make their clothes and they take care of their skin better than I do,” I mumble slowly looking away from Crewel.

“I told them I don’t need to look nice either, but they insist that I should wear nicer clothes. I’m not a seamstress like them, I’m a watercolour painter. So I can’t just make them nice clothes to wear as they do for me.”

“But you look so pretty though, you definitely deserve all the nice things.”

“No, I don’t, you do.”

“No, I refuse, you do.”

“It looks like two little pups in need of some retraining.” Crewel breaks up what was about to become a battle of the no-yous, “Anyways, after Ren fully recovers, I’ll take you to your new home and explain the job I have for you in greater detail. That should be suitable for you I presume?”

“Excuse me, but why would you help us? Did you just adopt my sibling and say I could tag along?” Vera asks a little skeptical about this sudden favor toward us.

“I mean it’s not like he doesn’t gain anything. We’re both skilled artists who could contribute to his business and we’re in a position where it would be best if we joined him to gain the benefits we would from this.”

“Okay, I get that, but I still don’t understand why us.”

“While I don’t need a reason and this little gremlin child would technically owe me under other circumstances, I have my personal reasons for this predicament. Also, I am deeply concerned by the fact you trusted me so quickly. I will tell you the rest eventually, but for the moment I’m sure good pups won’t question me further.”

“Oh, you’ve yet to see gremlin Ren my newly adopted father figure. Now that I’ve fallen asleep near you like three times, I think it’s safe to say you’ll see weirdness soon. You don’t seem like a bad person though? I mean, you’ve had plenty of chances to make my life significantly worse, but you didn’t.” I laugh a bit. Vera raises a brow at me like they were saying, ‘Do you have no sense of danger child?’

“Gremlin Ren? Like when you said ‘Aw, dad called me precious’? I suppose you may simply be a good judge of character, though I’d still be more careful.”

“Hebba debba ha- Shoosh, we don’t talk about deliriously tired Ren, and sure, I could be more careful I guess,” I respond quickly, waving my arms vaguely in his direction.

“Bro.” Vera vocalizes her surprise, crossing her arms and shaking her head.

“Since we haven’t yet, Ren, let us exchange numbers so that I can contact both of you if need be. I’d rather not call your sister every time.”

“Oh alright, yeah that’d be good, we won’t always be together, so that wouldn’t have worked out every time anyways,” I respond before remembering I had Neige’s number somewhere too. I completely forgot to mention him to Vera before, oh well I can bring him up later. For some reason, I don’t feel like I should mention him in front of Dadus Crewel.

We exchange numbers and chat a bit about my health, fashion, and my sibling’s art. Vera ends up being quite flustered but flattered by the compliments she receives. It’s quite cute actually. Eventually, Crewel leaves and I’m left to rest with Vera making sure that I don’t skip any meals. She knows that I won’t eat if I don’t feel like getting up.

There was a lot to think about laying down. What was going to happen with Dev-Ya and Rachel? Would I have to tell Crewel about Rachel? How was it going to be learning under Crewel? Would Vera finally meet her Idol since we were going to be in the fashion industry? What did the dream with Neige and Rachel mean? I could probably figure out a couple of them. My dreams tend to be tied to reality, though upsetting things always end up more abstracted or represented by different characters. The thing with Neige may actually happen, or something similar will occur if I don’t spoil the surprise again. The more abstract representation of Rachel means I might meet her again. There’s no way that I would actually be trapped in a birdcage right? That seems quite unlikely despite how unhinged Rachel can be. I’ll probably have to tell Crewel about Rachel if I notice anything off like with the outfits. Though given his resources I may not be the first one of us to bring it up. Maybe I’ll wait until he asks me about it.

Two days pass slowly with the occasional conversation with my sister and her excitement about having a potentially less dull job soon. We vaguely touch on the fact she might meet her idol and then she wonders if she’ll have to hide her fanart of him before remembering that the only art she gets is of fictional characters so it's fine. Besides which there’s no way that Epel Felmier would ever see her room anyways right? By the end of the second day, I feel energized enough to start packing things up. Though I take care to pack my clothes separately from everything else just in case they’ll be confiscated for use as scrap materials. Not that they would, but considering Crewel’s judgemental glances, I have a feeling it isn’t an unreasonable concern.

Vera convinces me to call Crewel this time since she had to do so last time and he arrives equally as quickly as before with a few people to help us pack up. He motions for us to follow him while the movers grab all of our stuff in storage containers of various sizes and random boxes. On the way, Crewel discusses Vera’s position on the creative team designated to Epel and she literally gasps.

That evening when Crewel isn’t within earshot Vera tells me they hope he doesn’t notice them because they would never be able to talk to him well and might even accidentally refer to him as “baby girl” which they know he doesn’t like.

Unexpectedly our conversation takes a pause when I receive a message from Dev-Ya. He had been the one to block me initially, so I couldn’t imagine anything good would come out of whatever message he sent me. Especially since the last time we spoke, he punched my face. I didn’t open the message, but I read the first bit of it that was displayed on my phone screen from the notification.

[I want to meet up to apologize to you properly.] It began. I had a feeling that he didn’t actually want to apologize. Though I could be wrong, it doesn’t feel like something he would do.

“What’cha lookin’ at?” Vera asks, breaking the silence.

“An unexpected message.” I say vaguely frowning at my phone before shutting it off entirely for the moment, “I don’t really want to look at it though.”

“Oh, did Elliot message you again?”

“Not this time, no. Also, I blocked Elliot, I won’t be receiving his messages unless he does something to get around being blocked.”

“You seem to have a lot of enemies,” Crewel adds walking into the room with a pointer that has two collars attached to the other end of it. He was usually depicted with it, so it’s weird he didn’t have it at the event.

“Well, when you’re a doormat you tend to attract people who want to use you. Not that I am as much anymore, but it does sometimes feel like it would be easier to be one again.”

“That’s why I told you not to deal with them in the first place dummy,” Vera mutters.

“Are you sure you’re not the older sibling Vera?”

“Oh come on. Besides Vera is taller than me which automatically makes her the younger sibling.” I say playfully gesturing dramatically to Vera.

“That was because you were malnourished, you’re taller than me now,” Vera comments in turn with a small frown.

“Well I was going to get right to business, but I have a feeling we should discuss what happened with Dev-Ya on Glamour Isle.”

“I would be totally cool with skipping over that for now. Business stuff ooh.” I point finger guns in Crewel’s general direction.

“Oh wait, was that who messaged you?” Vera cuts in.

“What lead you to that conclusion? But yes, Dev-Ya texted me.” I sigh lightly rubbing the back of my neck anxiously.

“Well, that is concerning. What did he say?” Crewel asks, looking at me pointedly.

“I didn’t want it to pop up read so I only looked at the part that popped up in the notification. I don’t know what the rest says, but apparently, he wants to apologize. I doubt he means to apologize given how volatile our last meeting was.” I explain tiredly, rubbing my eyes and sighing.

“Bro block him. Gross. I bet Rachel told him to apologize so she can try to get back on your good side after ‘that’.”

“I figured much the same … I guess I should tell you who Rachel is now that we’re staying in your care huh? You certainly picked a puppy with a lot of problems.” I say with a small laugh before taking a deep breath and thinking about how to start.

“You are by no means obligated to give me your life story simply because I’ve brought you here. Though it would be helpful to identify people to avoid or deal with later.” Crewel responds, mumbling the last part and hitting his pointer against his hand.

“I didn’t catch that last bit, but I still feel like I should anyways. I won’t go into specifics, but essentially I was in a relationship where I would give as much as I could to make Rachel happy, but she never listened to me or returned the affection I gave. It got particularly bad at one point, but I won’t get into that. It messed with a lot of my friendships though since that became my standard. Elliot, who was mentioned earlier, is similar, but worse in some ways. I’m lucky I found out who he was before I met him in person though.” I explain vaguely, pausing a few times, wondering if I should be telling Crewel all of this. He practically adopted us, I’m not even sure how things worked out this well, but I couldn’t help but feel like as soon as he knew more he was going to throw me away.

“It looks like you were surrounded by some pathetic mutts. I’ll make sure they don’t show up around you. For now, you should probably block any of them you’ve yet to and stay focused on something that won’t keep your anxiety up. I’m sure that all deeply impacted you. No one goes through upsetting events unscathed. I don’t really do hugs, but you two can speak to me about anything that is troubling you. It’s one of the responsibilities I signed up for taking you in as my students. A teacher's job is to make sure his students thrive in the learning environment.”

“You’re definitely acting like a dad now. You don’t do hugs? What's with carrying me to a medic instead of letting someone else do it?”

“I’m not sure actually.”

“Oh? You’re not sure? Sounds likely fatherly instincts ooh.”

“…” Crewel doesn’t reply, he simply places a hand to his chin thoughtfully, placing the hand with the pointer in it against his elbow.

“Hey, Ren you should block those nasties.” Vera points out before I can react to Crewel’s silence. I had already forgotten that blocking people was mentioned so my mouth forms an ‘oh yeah’ before I turn my phone back on. It flashes on a full brightness before returning to the lowest setting where I usually have it.

“Ow, my eyes,” I grumble before going through and blocking the numbers I had yet to block. It was Dev-Ya’s and some guy named Teiran I didn’t remember but had a negative feeling about for some reason. Rachel and Elliot were already blocked before so I didn’t have to worry about them for now.

“You came in here to talk business initially right? Let’s do that.” Vera states, taking a lead in the conversation. Probably in hopes that Crewel would leave as soon as he said what he planned to.

“Right, business. First of all, excuse me for barging in earlier. I can assure you this will not become a habit. I live separately from you and I’ll make sure to inform you if I need to speak with you both prior to my visits unless it's an emergency of course. Onto business, there is a large event surrounding new fashion coming up in six months, the Summer Unlimited Fibers Fresh and Economic Revolution annual event. You’ll be put into teams of at least three. Though these teams can be sorted out beforehand which is what we’re going to do. As you may have already guessed, I plan to assign you two to a team with Vil Shoenheit and Epel Felmier. Until then, however, we need to increase your prestige and credibility.”

“I’m mildly concerned by the fact it spells the out ‘suffer’ as the acronym, but I digress. So you mean you’ll be making sure we get into events to showcase our abilities? If this goes well, we’ll be working on one of the biggest events in the fashion world with some of the most well know fashion-related celebrities. But if you have other pupils, then why did you select us?”

“Oh, I suppose I should have specified. I’m also a teacher at Night Raven College. The students there are probably who you mean by my ‘other pupils’. As for why I chose you two, there are a few reasons. Most obviously, it brings diversity to the group. A non-binary gremlin with dark-academia vibes and a lady steeped in Ouji fashion pair well with the adorable Epel and glamorous monarch-esque Vil. It’s like a set of fantasy villains. Quite an eye-catching arrangement no? Additionally, you already work well together, I’m afraid some of my other students are too much like divas to work well as a group. Individually they all have strengths, but until they mesh, they’re like oil and water. While you have yet to work with Epel and Vil, you will be more willing to compromise with them when necessary.”

“Oh, I guess that makes sense. Diversity is an important note for intrigue. However, I’m under the impression that this is in part because of Neige’s potential group. Either they’re also trying to be diverse, or that group is going to essentially be a boy band right?”

“Correct. Given the previous year, it’s likely that Neige’s group is going to be more diverse. There was a lot of discourse surrounding some of the former members, though somehow that discourse gave Neige a popularity boost.” Crewel states, his voice dripping with annoyance.

“Right, weren’t Neige and Vil placed on the same team as two newbies who ended up being a mess all things considered?”

“Unfortunately.”

“So you don’t want the hosts to make Neige and Vil part of the same team again? But you don’t have much time to locate some new talents, and those you could reach out to would make things more difficult.”

“Essentially.”

“Considering that you came here almost immediately. You have something in mind to get us started right?”

“Very good. Yes, I have a few events lined up for you. I’ll handle getting you in, you are going to need to focus on curating new designs. I have more for you after this event, so don’t burn yourself out like last time. Since security was so lax at the last location, I can promise you I’ll ensure more reliable security this time.”

“Can you tell us the specifics like dates and themes?”

“I’ll go over it with you another day, but for now I’ll be E-Mailing you all of the relevant information. Though I’ll need to give you your company E-Mails and their passwords before you can use them.”

“Company E-Mails? Wow- that’s fancy.”

“Oh, we had those at my previous job.” Vera mumbles.

“Good, then you should be familiar with professional E-Mail etiquette.”

“E-Mails have etiquette?”

“…” Vera and Crewel look at each other, perhaps wondering how I had made it this far without knowing that there was such a thing as E-Mail etiquette. Crewel ends up discussing specifics with us anyways before handing us our company E-Mail information. After he leaves Vera and I unpack a few more things while bouncing ideas off of each other for the first event.

We head to bed soon after and both wake up early. Getting used to a new space was going to take a little bit. Everything was so much cleaner than it ever had been. There’s only so much progress we were able to make at the old house with my studies and Vera’s work. Regardless, we had things to do and not much time to dilly-dally about new surroundings.

The next few days raced by and before we knew it we were presenting in front of a crowd. Though this one was notably smaller than the one from the Flash Forward Frenzy. Unexpectedly, Neige was one of the guest judges alongside Vil. After the show is over Neige approaches us.

“I didn’t expect to see you here! Wow, your designs are still so impressive. Oh, a pleasure to meet you, Vera, I’m Neige LeBlanche!” Neige starts excitedly grasping my hands, acknowledging my sister after a moment's pause.

“It’s nice to meet you too. I’m Vera, Ren’s sister.” Vera introduces, looking at Neige’s hands and then back to me with a raised eyebrow.

“Hello again! Also, I’m sorry, I completely misplaced your business card, so I wasn’t able to add your number to my contacts after everything.” I apologize, wondering if he was under the impression that I just didn’t like him.

“Oh no, well I suppose it’s not unexpected. You were in really bad shape after the Frenzy. I’m surprised you were on your feet this quickly. Hmm, why don’t I just add my number to your phone this time? There’s no way you’ll lose it that way!” He states with a wide smile befitting a prince.

“Sure! That would probably be better.” I reply before pulling out my phone. Vera blinks at me, ‘Seriously? You know that Vil and Neige are rivals, you really want to die on the hill of befriending everyone until you get hurt?’ I hand Neige my phone and he quickly types in his number. I stifle a laugh when I see that he’s oh-so graciously nicknamed himself for future reference.

“Do people call you Neggy?” I ask curiously, looking at the little heart emote he’d added at the end too. I mean it was distinct, I’d give him that, but it felt a little unnecessary.

“Only friends do. I’d like to think we’ll be friends though so you can call me Neggy too!” Neige explains still just as bubbly and excited as before.

“Okay, but I’ll still refer to you as Neige in public.” I smile a bit. He was cute if nothing else. It was like finding a little brother. Though Vera would always be my favorite sibling. Before I can give Neige my number in turn Vil joins us.

“Hello, Neige. Sorry to cut your conversation short, but these two have a prior engagement.” Vil states with a practiced smile, elegantly placing a hand on his chin. I wonder how much of the conversation he heard when walking over. Regardless Vera’s assessment that being friendly toward Neige would give me problems was probably going to be a little too accurate. Vil was already displeased, I couldn’t imagine that our trip to the meeting room with Crewel and Epel was going to be comfortable.

“Yes, unfortunately, we do have something else to tend to. I’m sure we’ll meet again given the industry. Let’s head out.” I add, looking at Vera who rolls her eyes at me and also confirms that we should leave.

“Ah, goodbye Ren. I hope we have a chance to talk more next time. Safe travels!” Neige says before saying farewell to Vera and Vil collectively. We walk in silence until we reach our transportation. After the door shuts Vil starts to speak.

“So you’re friendly with Neige LeBlanche?” He asks with a smile that conveyed his displeasure.

“Well, I don’t have a negative opinion of him as of the moment. But we’ve only spoken a few times so it’s difficult to say if I’d ever give him preference. Though to be frank, my main concern is being polite since unlike you, my clout isn’t very good.” I explain. It was true that I was fairly neutral towards Neige, he may be cute, but he’s not very memorable for anything but that. Given the choice, I’d rather be friends with Vil since that would make things less complicated and Vil is also more interesting. The media is divided on how to depict Vil as his fashion sense and acting career have cast him as a villain. Do they show him as tragic, cruel, or even secretly good?

“I see. I suppose that makes sense. Though I will remind you to avoid being too friendly with him. Even if you’re just being polite others will take your politeness as affection and twist your image.” Vil explains, a bit softer and less peeved than earlier. Was he worried about me? “I have to agree with Vil. Ren, you’re too careless with people.” Vera adds quietly, glancing at Vil before looking at me, “You shouldn’t have let Neige grab your hands either, what if there were paparazzi? Neige has the barrier of being the highest-ranking celebrity, you’re not safe from being slandered and defamed.” Vera adds with concern, her voice shaking.

“Vera- I know. I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful. Unfortunately, I have a feeling that the media is going to depict me as a playboy at this point. I mean, there’s no way that there aren’t pictures of Crewel carrying me circulating at the moment. With that, if there also end up being pictures of Neige holding my hands then I’ll be in trouble.” I apologize, sorting out my thoughts and realizing all at once just the predicament I had been put in.

“Usually Crewel is so careful about his image. But I suppose he has always had a soft spot for his students. Though he would never admit that.” Vil muses, “If you understand all of that, why aren’t you more guarded?” Vil adds with added annoyance.

“I- don’t have anything to say for myself. It’s just stupid.” I state looking down at my feet.

“We’ll discuss this with Crewel later. Vera, you weren’t at the Frenzy so I didn’t get to see your abilities in action before. I’m excited to see what you’ll do in the future. You seem quite promising, and perhaps wise.” Vil compliments Vera who smiles a bit before thanking Vil for his compliments. Eventually, it reaches the topic of understanding why Crewel said he’d need to fix my wardrobe.

“We already have plans to curate your wardrobe, unfortunately, there simply wasn’t time before this event, so you had to wear the ones from Glamour Isle. But no more. I shall make you shine like a diamond. And perhaps blind Neige.”

“What is it with people mumbling the last part of their sentences? I’m grateful for your time and efforts in this. I’ll try not to undermine your expectations.”

Eventually, we make our way to the meeting room where a few unfamiliar faces sit with Crewel and Epel. Most of them are dressed in business attire with some notes, but one of them looks completely different from the rest. Dressed in a dark feathered cloak with a crow mask and cane, the fae lounges at the head of the table. This also implies that he has a higher position than Crewel. Who is this guy?

“Ah! You’re all here. Yes, it is I. Crowley your beloved CEO and headmaster at NRC.” Yeah, I still have no idea who Crowley is.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Crowley,” I say with a polite smile.

“Yes, it’s lovely to meet you, Mr. Crowley,” Vera says in turn.

“It’s a pleasant surprise to see you attend the meeting CEO,” Vil states with an elegant practiced smile.

“There is no need to be so formal with me! Just call me Crowley. After all, you all are important assets to our company.” Crowley states in a sing-song tone, “Oh right, feel free to sit anywhere, there’s no need to stand so stiffly.” He adds with the motion of his hand.

“Thank you, sir,” I say before sitting one seat away from Crewel so that Vera can be seated beside two people she knows. Vil sits beside Epel on the other side of the table and introductions of everyone at the table begin. The table consists of Crowley, Crewel, Epel, Vera, Vil, Trein, Vanrouge, and I. The meeting covers schedules, the clean up for Crewel’s sudden dadittude, and current media standings. Admittedly during the more budget-oriented pieces of the conversation, I was completely lost.

After the meeting ends Crowley leaves immediately followed by Vanrouge. Epel and Vil head out after speaking briefly to Crewel. Vera and I decide to follow Vil out for the moment. We weren’t stopped so we left the room. Vil notices us and motions for us to walk a bit closer to the two of them. I can almost hear Vera internally screaming being so close to Epel.

“We have more to discuss outside of the meeting since they didn’t cover everything. You’re probably wondering who Lillia Vanrouge and Mozus Trein are. They’re investors in the company that happen to be on good terms with most of us. Since they have such a big say in our company, they tend to appear in official meetings discussing budgets and plans for the company's future.”

“You realize that Crewel probably would have explained all of that to them right?”

“Yes, but the conversations between Trein and Crewel tend to be lengthy. We have to wait anyways, it makes for better discussion if the other parties aren’t preoccupied with something else.” Vil says motioning for everyone to sit down in what is probably a waiting room or lounge of some sort.

“Eh- Yeah okay. Ahem. Hello again, I’m Epel. It’s nice to meet you both.” Epel says with a sparkly smile.

“Wow, I didn’t realize that people could literally sparkle,” I mumble thoughtlessly. Vera covers my mouth before I finish.

“The pleasure is all mine,” Vera states simply, smiling politely but definitely freaking out internally. After a bit, she uncovers my mouth and I am free to speak again.

“I guess we’ll be seeing each other a lot more frequently right? So wouldn’t it be a good idea to figure out some baseline things to avoid doing? For example, eating sounds really bother me. If I dine with others, it is usually in a noisy place so I’m less overwhelmed by the eating noises but rather the environment.”

“Ah, I suppose you’re right. Then I’ll state the obvious. Be more careful about your image and who you associate with. Additionally, do not needless contact Neige LeBlanche as that too could become problematic.”

“Ah, I get it, if anyone sees either party text the other, a deeper relationship will be assumed because it makes for a better story and more interesting gossip.”

“Exactly. I suppose that means you had no intentions of actually contacting him then?”

“Well, I was undecided initially, which is why I even mentioned the number again in the first place, but given this, it’s better to avoid contacting him. He’s been at the center of enough drama where everyone else ended up looking bad that I don’t really want to chance an ‘Oops, I didn’t realize they could see my screen lol’ moment.”

“I’m glad you’ve come to your senses.”

“I suppose if it's just us, avoid calling me cute or referring to me too fondly. I’d rather not be bombarded with those things outside of work too.” Epel adds, still sounding soft and polite.

“Ah, alright. If I had to add something, it would probably be along the lines of wariness around group chats or anything. I’ve had a friend or two in ‘secret’ group chats that were too careless about ensuring the excluded parties weren’t aware they were excluded.” Vera mentions with a brief explanation.

Before we could continue the conversation an announcement was made over the loudspeakers to find a place to hide while a situation was being dealt with.

“Well, that is concerning,” I mumble.

“What in tarnation? Concerning? That’s downright mortifying. What could possibly be happening?” Epel replies with a panicked expression.

“Let’s go into the nearest room. Now.” Vil states staying composed and ushering us all into a room that has a door that locks.

“It’s our first day here and something went wrong,” Vera mumbles, leaning on me and clutching their arms tightly.

“I’m not sure what’s happening, but it will be alright, we’ll just stay quiet. I’m right here.” I whisper as quietly as I can, placing a hand on Vera’s shoulder. The room stays silent after that. Outside of the room, we hear footsteps and a knock of metal on the floor.

Clack clack, clang, clack clack, clang

The person outside calls a name I don’t recognize, but Vil’s expression shifts into one of disturbed understanding.

“I know you’re here my love. Just come out and we can talk.” The voice calls out with a deranged laugh. ‘Ah, it’s someone’s crazy fan or ex.’ I think frowning a bit.

Clack clack, clang, clack clack BANG

The door shudders as a dent forms in it. It takes a moment to process that it was our door that had been hit until I see Epel standing before the door, magic circling his hands while he stands in front of us.

“Oh? Are those frightened breaths I hear? My my, you always were such a delicate thing weren’t you?” The voice exclaims, excitement dripping over their words as something crashes into the door again. I find myself wondering how this guy got here, how they possibly managed to get past security in this place.

BANG

The dent grows as the hinges cry out in pain.

BANG

The door squeals in agony.

BANG … Thonk

The door falls down slowly as an unfamiliar grinning figure peers into the room.

“Oh Icy, there you are!” The intruder exclaims looking at Vera. Vera looks confused and frightened. I find myself moving before I can think about it. I crash through the door we locked to get in here, pulling Vera behind me.

“GET BACK HERE!” They scream followed by the sound of fire crackling through the air followed by the whip of vines.

“Who the fuck is that?” Vera whisper screams, grabbing my hand tightly.

“I don’t know. But we need you to get out of here, or hide really well.” I say in reply, my voice sounding much calmer than the heart beating in my chest. My shoulder starts to throb.

“I-I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t know who that is.” She says panicked.

“I know, I know, it’s not your fault, they’re just a creep.” I console them, starting to lead them toward another exit from the waiting room.

“Eugh- I won’t let you pass through here!” Epel shouts after a sound of pain. Before I can stop her, Vera barrels back into the previous room and punches the creepy stranger back through the doorway.

“No one hurts my friends,” Even she must not have known what came over her, but hearing her idol cry out in pain led her to punch the intruder with a force even she didn’t know she had. They fly through the doorway and crash through the door across the hallways.

“Agh- My sweet- why do you pain me so? I came all this way for you.” The stranger pleads. I feel useless as I watch Vil, Epel, and Vera.

“She wants nothing to do with you. Get that through your head or you won’t be left with just a few burns and scars.” Vil states with a venomous smile spreading over his lips.

“How did they get here? I don’t think they should have been able to. Is there anyone who would want to hurt Vera maybe? … Could it be Rachel again? Is she trying to destroy what I have left so I fall back into her arms?” I mumble to myself before hearing another crash. Vil had thrown the stranger through another door.

“That’s going to be a pain to replace.” Crowley comments walking towards the stranger, “Sorry, but who are you? And why are you bothering us on such an important day?” He adds with a certain detached annoyance like he was talking to a bug. It was then that I managed to walk back toward everyone to see what was happening.

“I’m just here to see my dearly beloved!” The intruder insists.

“That creep has nothing to do with my sister. But he thinks he is.” I state walking over, my heart beating loudly in my chest, “I was trying to be nice earlier.” I add with a practiced smile.

“How is taking my sweet Ice rose away from me a kindness? You just wanted her for yourself.” As they argue I catch a glance at their eyes, they’re cloudy. I stare at them for a moment before something clicks.

“You drank it,” I mutter.

“It’s a miracle thing, isn’t it? Oh, I was so close to holding my love. If you weren’t here- if I get rid of you-” The stranger realizes, rising despite their disfigured form.

“I don’t think so.” Crowley states bonking the stranger on the head with his hand knocking the fool out cold, “Now, I trust you’ll explain what you meant by ‘you drank it?’” Crowley asks motioning for some personnel to get rid of the creep.

“No, you mean they drank that?” Vera cuts in, “It’s- it’s a monstrous potion. It relieves you of all worldly pain, but you lose your ability to perceive right and wrong, as it eats away at you you start to decay and you’re susceptible to others' intentions. If they really drank that- then that means Rachel is involved.” She explains, rushing over as I lose my balance.

“This Rachel is going to be a much larger problem than I initially assumed.” Crewel comments, supporting me from behind as well, “But that doesn’t explain how that mangy mutt got in here in the first place.”

“If the only benefit of that potion was the elimination of pain it wouldn’t be as tempting. If you know which one it is you can probably piece together what happened. But one of the things the potion does is amplify your magic until you overblot. You either decay or overblot, and neither is a pleasant end.” I explain further, scratching at my arms as the ickiness settles into my skin.

“Why exactly do you know all of this?” Trein asks, walking over with a tap of his cane announcing his presence.

“… That’s how my best friend died,” I whisper with a small, pained, laugh.

“I’m sorry for your loss Ren. It is never easy to lose someone. I am too old now to guarantee your safety under my watch. But I will support you the best I can in other ways.” Trein states, looking between Vera and me.

“Hm, well given the dire circumstances I think I could keep an eye on them. Besides, it would be like adopting wor- children.” Crowley states, absolutely about to say workers instead of children before he corrected himself.

“There’s no need for that Crowley, I’m already taking care of their housing, so I’ll be the one to settle them into a safer space if need be,” Crewel states in turn.

“Hahahaha,” Vera starts laughing.

“I hardly think this is the time to be laughing child,” Crowley states.

“I know, I’m sorry, it’s just- you all barely know us but you’ve already accepted us more than our family ever did. It’s just kind of funny you know? Maybe I’m tired.” Vera states laughing a bit more while tearing up. She sniffles and tries to calm down her tears but Epel hugs her.

“There there.” He states, patting their back.

Crewel notices before I do that I’m crying too. He wipes away my tears with a handkerchief and sighs.

“You always seem to get hurt when something happens.” He says, placing a hand lightly on my injured shoulder causing me to flinch, “Let’s get you patched up, we’ll discuss what to do about your safety after that at least.” He adds.

Vil looks at Crewel as though he’d grown a second head.

“You’re not going to pick me up again are you?” I ask with a sniffle before turning my head to look up at Crewel. He smiles a bit.

“That depends, can you walk this time?” He asks though the answer was quickly found to be no, “Hm, well I’m afraid you’re going to have to sit still and be carried this time as well little pup.” He muses. I sigh and just let him carry me. Crowley joins Vil in his baffled stare at Crewel.

“What- is happening,” Vil asks furrowing his brows and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Dad instincts,” Vera mumbles through sniffles.

“I suppose he does have a habit of adopting promising children, or ‘pups’ as he calls you.” Trein muses, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

“Hah, this really is going to be quite expensive. You’ll need to deal with that Rachel person sooner rather than later.” Crowley comments before he takes his leave.

“Unfortunately I can’t stay for too much longer either. However, Vil, you have my number. I ask that you update me on the situation when you can.” Trein states leaving as well.

“I’m sorry, your jacket is soaked with tears,” Vera says seeing Epel’s now wet jacket.

“It’s fine. I don’t get the whole unsupportive family bit, but I’m all too familiar with being in an unexpected fight with someone you don’t know. NRC isn’t exactly full of friendly faces. ‘Sides, you were really something. I didn’t expect ya ta smack the bastard in gob like that.” Epel states, slipping into an unfamiliar accent. Usually, he sounds like a well-read nobleman.

“I just heard you get hurt and my body was already moving on its own. I can’t take too much credit for that. I’m not nearly as brave as it seems.” Vera explains quickly.

“Not many have such noble intentions. Well, I suppose you won’t be a burden despite the issues that seem to surround your sibling. Though my opinion is subject to change should you prove to be loutish.” Vil comments.

– “Ow- I didn’t think I’d dislocated it, it just felt numb at first,” I grumble, rubbing the arm where healing magic was applied.

“In an ideal world, you’d have time to rest, but for the moment we should discuss safety. Previously you would not be living with anyone but your sibling. Given the circumstances would you be more comfortable living in my house? Given my status, I have trained guards to deal with intruders like that person.”

“It would probably be safer to stay somewhere that secure. It’ll be a pain, yes, but I’m not going to deny any greater level of protection. Though I have my reservations about hired guards at this point.”

“That’s understandable. I can assure you, however, that my hired personnel will be much more reliable. Crowley and the owner of the organization that hosted the Frenzy prefer cost effectiveness to function.” Crewel grumbles.

“Da- Crewel! You shouldn’t say that in the building, slander the man later.”

“Pfft, but you don’t disagree.”

“Of course not, I’ve seen what happened- dude I was there. I mean last time was like two minutes ago. Eugh, I’m so tired now too.”

“You should get some rest here then. Would you prefer I stay here, or leave?”

“Thanks for that, do what you think is best.” I didn’t want to make him stay when there was going to be a lot of aftermath to sort out, and it was very unlikely that something would happen immediately after the last incident. Rachel doesn’t work like that, she eats away at you slowly until you give in to her.

Crewel ended up staying in the room, at least until I fell asleep.

– “Oh Ren, did you enjoy our game of hide and seek? I had so much fun finding you.” ‘No, I recognize that voice.’ “You were so difficult to get a hold of. Were you that confused my dear? It’s okay, I can help you now. Just trust in me.” ‘No. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be with her here.’ “Come closer, little Ren. I’ll make sure you’re safe in my arms.” Rachel’s arms wrap around me and begin to constrict me, suffocating me. It feels like all of the air is being pushed out of my lungs as the cold arms continue to snake around me and hold me closer. “My adorable dear.”

–

TL;DR: Ren meets Crewel on a train after accidentally entering the wrong car and Crewel notices their distinct lack of fashion. From there Ren participates in a Speed Fashion contest with an unreasonable time limit and manages to prove their worth. Given this, Crewel takes in both Ren and their sister Vera to contribute to his team starring Vil and Epel. In the midst of this an old 'friend' from Ren's past resurfaces as an adversary.

#twisted wonderland #writing #fanfiction #divus crewel #twst crewel #We love the trope where someone just decides “You see this gremlin? This is my child now”#first post #It feels like I'm committing a crime.#I'm so sorry for this #Look #I know It's long #But It's fine #I'm totally mentally healthy #And not at all trying to escape reality #You should drink water #Also hi #Do you like it?#self indulgent

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jjungkooksthighs · 3 years

Text

Claws of Carnality | jjk (7)

Pairing: alpha jungkook x omega reader

Genre: smut, fluff and angst, abo/werewolf!au, soulmate!au, fantasy!au

Rating: 18+ / nsfw

Word Count: 7.4k

Summary: When you and your alpha rivetingly reunite for the Offering Ceremony, you are thoroughly twitterpated in his display of intent to you that colors your entire being with affection for him, but you will soon find that he isn’t the only one that has his sights set on you...

Warnings: alpha!jungkook, possessive!jungkook, jealous!jungkook, dom!jungkook, sub! reader, omega!reader, mentions of breeding/ruts/heats, mentions of blood, mentions of a mark, slick and pre-ejaculatory production, scenting, mating rituals and hunting

A/N: What a ride this chapter has been. From the many drafts I had of the original version that went through various reworks before I initially posted and then onto the deletion of that from Tumblr only for an alternate version to be made in my efforts to better guide understanding of the story, this chapter has started from one destination and landed somewhere across the other side of the world.

I hope that this version is easier to digest after the heaviness of the original and much work has been done to ensure that. All feedback that was given to me on the previous rendition of this chapter was greatly appreciated even if some of it hurt, so those who reached out, I thank you. I hope that you all will continue to let me know what your thoughts are as I thrive on comments and feedback that show to me what you guys really think about my work. Please make me a happy author and share your feedback with me on this revised version that I made just for you guys!

Also, you will notice the gif I used this time is different. That is because that look is what Jungkook has somewhere in this chapter (because lbr here I am a slut for Black Swan Jungkook). There might additionally be an insert that looks somewhat familiar to something we have all screamed over, so that will be interesting to see if anyone catches what it is.

For my readers that enjoy auditory stimulus while they read, I wrote this chapter entirely to Jungkook’s “My Time” and I implore you to listen to that while you read because it really sets the mood and perspective I had in the sentiments that I wanted to convey for this part (not to mention I fucking love that song like a child adores their favorite toy). You may find while listening that a certain part resonates especially deep with it. Bonus points to anyone that catches the special allusion!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 8 Part 9

Suffering in silence amid the agonizing absence of your alpha, every second spent without him is dragged on by cruel hands of time that languidly pass with lethargy in the wake of the sun’s slumber.

Despite the powerful paroxysms that wrack every fiber of your being, your heart paddles agog with anticipation while you wait anxiously for your alpha as your irises sweep like a whirlwind through the woodland in the distance in their frantic frenzy to find under their storm the bringer of the tempest of emotions that rain over you.

The knoll erected just before the greenwood is certainly an insolent impediment that blocks and bars your sights from penetrating pervasively into the forest’s opening as you whimper in the damned denial of your mate.

You hardly notice the profoundly proliferating mound of quarry in front of you that the same beta tugs and tows from the forest in an accumulating aggregation that far surpasses the small, sad excuses for the other piles of game that other betas pull from the forest in their lugging of the conquered prey of each alpha that they serve.

The name of this particular one drifts away from your comprehension in the turbulent gusts that your alpha spews over you even in your separation that cloud your mind of all but him.

By now, the sun has lain itself to sleep below the horizon and, in its place, the moon has awoken augustly from her own chamber to seat herself atop her throne at the sky’s crest. This night, she is tainted red with the crimson of the lifeblood within all creatures under her care in a rare occurrence that is otherwise known as the Blood Moon.

Occurring only twice a year among the winter and summer solstices, the striking shade is symbolic of the wild impulses that drive all living beings and even the stars pulse like veins through the sky’s soma in their own frenzied palpitations.

The moon’s subjects of omegas, alphas and betas all throng tightly together in clusters behind the garden of newly presented omegas that have blossomed with maturity, the cheerful chattering of all the wolves of your pack blooming around you in the warmth of excitement that spouts from them like water. You are rooted like a flower to the ground amidst the field of other omegas that have recently presented, your limbs planted there by the elder who had brought you from the woods.

It had been an onerous omission on your part to abstain from hissing at her when her bony, knuckled hands had grasped your arms in the utter dissatisfaction that had erupted like a volcano within you in the urge to tear her off of you in the lack of heat that her touch- which had been so definitively and determinately not your alpha’s- had been incapable of warming you with.

It had been so unlike what your alpha easily instilled upon you in his calefaction that rolled off of him in waves and, in wanting only your alpha’s hands on you, you’d had to bite down on your tongue to keep from releasing the noise of dismayed dissatisfaction and risk being begrudgingly berated for an unruly display.

Once she’d ambled away, it was your secret that you’d pulled the furs your alpha had given you closer around you to bask in his scintillating scent, the pelt closing comfortingly around you to offer you some much needed incalescence while some, but not all, of the tension pressing down on your shoulders had lifts away.

Niva, who stood behind you, had giggled as she asked, “Are you that gone for him, darling?”

Your cheeks had reddened in embarrassment before you’d looked back at her to quietly mumble, “I am. Irrevocably and unequivocally.”

You watch with bated breath as alphas begin to ascend from over the hilltop that stands to attention just before the woodland as you all but tremble in anticipation to find your own among them.

They are all cleaned of the blood, sweat and tears from the prey they slayed and most are dressed in exorbitantly expensive threads that have likely never before been worn before today.

They are donned under furs from which the alphas acquired in hunts years past in the aged, tanned colors of them all that are draped over each wolf’s shoulders as they come to stand in front of their designated deposit of game they have proudly procured in effort to offer it to their desired partner amidst the line of omegas that have been arranged opposite of them.

It is tradition that the sins of death be wiped away from them before an omega's virtues of life can fully cleanse the alpha that would receive them.

Incurring impatience is what has you whine out for your alpha that still evasively eludes your visage as you searchingly seek him while your wolf cries for the only one that could possibly quiet it as a familiar figure separates from the amalgamation of agglomerated elders that have accumulated along the west and east sides of the stage before she takes her place on the beamed boards that circularly coalesce into the timbered stage.

Amidst the jovial jabber that percolates through the air, the lead elder, who is also your grandmother, raises her hands over her head so that the moonlight drips down onto her upturned palms as she shouts, “Children! Tonight, we commemorate the adulthood that our blessed mother of the moon has acknowledged in these youth before you,” the lead elder lowers both arms to gesture to you as fondness showers over her before she softens, “And among them is my beloved grandchild, Y/N, who hails from the purest of bloodlines and who has been the sole caretaker of our pups and livestock in her dutiful and devout service to her pack since her very juvenility. Let us commend both her and those she was raised alongside in this momentous moment!”

There is a thunderous applause that bursts roaringly around you as exhilaration energizes you anew whilst every wolf in attendance animatedly hoots and claps with a delighted dynamism that has you smiling happily as the sounds bound through you with the liveliness of a sprite.

It leaps through you ceaselessly and when you breathe in to give it more room to prance around within you, that’s when your lips lift in gratified gaiety in the unmistakable undeniability of the scent of myrrh that skirrs insatiably forth until it has found and enveloped you in its mighty musk as you sigh with satisfaction at the realization as it wantonly wafts around you.

Jungkook, your precious mate, must be close by.

The knowledge has your heart skipping a beat as your wolf bays amidst the kindles of joy that light themselves within you in the rapid recognition of the presence of your other half somewhere in the distance.

In the cesspool of odors of all the other wolves that odiously stink and reek through winds around you, it is a taxing task to attempt to locate the origin of the aroma you have come to adore ardently.

All you can do is readily revel in the piquantly pungent incense that incites your baser being with inclination to rejoin with its mate and to find solace in the euphoric utopia of his waiting arms once more.

Some of the lead elder’s words are lost to you amongst your alpha’s essence that wraps willfully around you in a brume that brushes eagerly against you while the ovation that, somewhere along the way, has gradually quieted while the last of the alphas have found their allocated allotment next to their corresponding heaps of seized, slain prey.

They are organized according to rank with the first place that heads the row of alphas belonging to the wolf boasting the highest station amongst his dynamic as their chief in charge of them all through the title afforded to him through his strength, power and bloodline.

Such were no match for any other alpha that had been unwise and unfortunate enough to face and bear the brunt of his sharp claws in battle that ended in loss to any that opposed him as the rightful pack alpha.

It is Jungkook’s locus at the vertex of the line that is empty and while the sight should distill doubt’s inklings within you, your alpha’s reassuring redolence is there to caress you in the swathing surety that he’s near. In your endeavored expenditure to catch a glimpse of Jungkook, you fail to detect that there is not one desolate domain that is devoid of an alpha in front of you, but four.

Still, you’re hardly at the liberty to discern that within the olfactive haze of your alpha’s pheromones that effervescently enfold you in their pleasing particles.

When your irises chase the lingering trace of him that is everywhere and nowhere at once to no avail yet again, you pout and, in the distance, a pair of golden eyes glint with mirth at the spectacle of you that is so incredibly and charmingly cherubic to their beholder.

A knowing expression momentarily crossing the lead elder’s face, your grandmother steps back before smiling fondly at you before her eyes carry their focus across the line of omegas that have been bestrewn along the grasses to your right before returning to you as she proclaims, “My dear grandchild, I welcome you and your fellow omegeans to the maturity that the wolves within you have flourished so beautifully with. May the most worthy of alphas earn you this night under the approving nod of our maternal moon that shall watch us from above,” she gives a revering salute to the celestial body above as she crosses her fingers over her heart in a spherical motion before bowing and when she stands once more, she trumpets, “With that, let us begin the Offering Ceremony!”

Upon her final words, she hobbles haltingly back down the wooden stairs connected to one side of the stage with some aid from the other elders in the age that has stolen away the strength of her feeble, frail ligaments as another round of applause fiercely flies through the land on the wings of the air that carry it as good-natured gossip joins it.

The stage is emptied but for a moment before an alpha emerges from the arched lumbered and logged mouth opening onto the platform, the tongue of timbered planks spanning outward in a circlet as the wolf takes his starting position for his celebratory dance before a flurry of flutes cast their music from the forelimbs of the wooden body under the deft fingers of the pack’s musicians.

You do not recognize this wolf and it takes only a second for your attention to sway elsewhere as your alpha’s scent draws you back to him when its mists cling in their sedulous sumptuousness to you.

It is tradition that all ceremonies and events initiate with performances meant to embody the heart of the occasion. Through their artistically aesthetic displays, tangible forms are given to the impalpable sentiments that the pack amasses in its harnessing of sensibilities toward such a jovial jamboree in the dances that are done to reflect those avid attitudes of each wolf imbued innately with such enthusiasm.

Following this, alphas are the first to proffer a present to their desired partners in declaring and dedicating the winnings of their hunt to their chosen omega. In exchange for the bounty, the omega then gives something of their own to their alpha as a symbol of intent to be paired exclusively with each other.

If there are offerings that exceed those of a single alpha for one omega, challenges or duels can be instigated and thusly proctored in official matches in their efforts to win an omega.

Such battles end either through submission or when one wolf is left incapacitated in the incapability to rise from the ground through the wounds that always leave their bodies in tatters through the violent nature of the fight for a mate.

The losing combatant forfeits their rights to claim an omega if they are bested by their opponent and the omega is not given a choice to accept the victor even if the alpha that wins them is not the one they had hoped to have, for it is a rule that the superior wolf who dominates another and exhibits that they are the more capable provider to the entire compound is the worthier being in their ability to protect their omega.

Following this, an intended pair of wolves each bestow matching marks that they paint onto each other in the blood of the strongest, most fearsome prey that an alpha robbed of its life in the honor of their omega.

After that, they are free to depart to a den the alpha is to have carefully crafted in preparation of his mate where the two are then meant to consummate their bond that will seal them together forevermore, for the brand of tooth marks that the two leave on each other through the throes of rapturous ecstasy would bind them to one other until the end of their days in the ultimate deed of giving themselves to each other through such an intimate act.

Daedal devotion linked the delicate affairs of courtship that you had always thought was so romantic and you can’t help the thrilling sensation that cascades over you at the prospect of what is to come alongside a particular alpha that has captured your mind and soul in his very palm.

His scent swirls enticingly around you as your irises, once again, flick along the endless expanse of the forest beyond while you squint as if that would help you to better see into the greenhood that grasps him away from you. Try as you might, you still cannot glimpse the apple of your eye from the fanning ferns careening from the underbrush as you whine once more in his hedging of you.

As his tang drapes itself over you, it stirs in its insistence his voice that echoes through your mind to remind you, “I will return for you and when I do, I will make you mine forever.”

Your anxiety is quieted in his quintessence that settles like a blanket over you to warm you in his stead as you continue to scour scrupulously around you for any smidgen of him that might deliver you to the truth of his whereabouts, your focus narrowed now in the thin beam of light that luminates your mind only with the purpose of finding him.

Lost in your fossicking forage for him as you are, the first wolf that had arrived on the stage is replaced by another and after that, two more.

By the time that six have gone, you’re no closer to illuminating your vision with his candescent luster as you peer longingly at the vacant spot that parallels your own where your alpha should be standing as yearning pulls at your heartstrings in his devastating absenteeism as you tug his pelt tighter over you.

When the yakking and chatting of the wolves behind you is blown out like a candle in the current that sweeps them through in awed astonishment at the same instant that the pheromones lacing over you thicken in headiness in their willful wiles, that’s when your irises are whisked away, lured as they are to the baited source of it all.

Your breath hitches when golden eyes pierce your own, fiery fervor flashing in them amidst the ferocious flames that lick hungrily at him from all directions in their passionate parchedness to welcome him into their warmth.

His irises rove ravenously over you, heat coiling low within you as your wolf preens at the attention while you do the same.

Covered in the color of soot, Jungkook’s lower half is ashen with cindered linen that clutches with cohere to him in every slew of thew cording his legs. Adorning his middle is a blackened buckskin belt that bears a perfect hourglass shaped waist and already your salivary glands are fructuously fertile in their gushing of spittle within your jaw that drops when you drink in the overtly obscene shirt that is provocatively provoking in its transparency that elicits the subsequent swoons of omegas around you.

It leaves nothing to the imagination and, like a second skin, vaunts every delicious dip and ridge of his mouth-watering musculature.

It is decorated with patterned patches in the shapes of burned brambles that are woven across the material meant to inspire illicit impurities in all that are fortuitously fortunate enough to behold your alpha in how it sinfully sticks to him. Encircling his neck like a thick collar, the shirt bands around him and over it, a blazoned blazer engulfs him. Like it has been seared through by fire, it is open to reveal his clothed chest in its entirety.

Tendrils of dark hair fall over his face in dangerous, wild wisps that curl amidst the humidity that overtly obsess over them.

You can hardly contain your own ire of want that simmers through you at the sight all of that and, when you trail your visage back up to his eyes, they are brightened with amusement while he dares to flick a sculpted brow as if to tease, “Like what you see?”

You lick your lips as a whimper traitorously escapes you while a wolfish grin lifts at his own before the symphony of flutes and lutes harmonize in the opening notes of their song and they sing soulfully for a few meters.

When your alpha begins his damning dance to the thrumming tempo of the waiata whispering through his ears, you already know you’re going to fall even more for him in an impossibly irredeemable descent that you have no wish to ascend away from.

Your alpha sidles forward with purpose pervading his slow movement, his irises burning torridly into your own with the finer feeling that fully fulgurates them before he spins on one foot while the chords of both instruments twirl together with him as he whirls around to face you once more.

The melodic music is, like your alpha, insistent in its eagerness to call commandingly to you in the way that its trill lowers and soon deepens with the same tantalizing temptation into his darkness that captivates you to him in your pure light.

In his meticulous motion, his fingers close around the end of his jacket that he’d caught in an open palm upon completion of his turn only to strum his fingers through the air with the other hand as if he were stroking the strings of an invisible lute between his arms.

He draws his free hand backward before smoothly and flowingly sweeping it forward only to then arc it behind him in a circular kinesis, his chin following his hand like it is tied around his wrist by twine. He repeats this once more, his eyes never straying from yours in the heated intensity that warms your very being as he stares only at you the entire time.

Like a match being struck in various vertices over him, every movement sparks the flinted flicker of white that births from it the embers of an inferno amidst the small moonstones that have been adroitly added over his blazer.

When he steps forward to be bathed by the scarlet rays of the moon that color him in the passion that he dances with, that’s when he vocalizes the sentiments for you that move him in a lyrical lilt that is in sound synchronicity with the instrumental tune he’d written himself.

As he takes in the way that you melt under the smoldering charcoal of affection for him, he can’t help the words that fall freer than rain on a spring day as he allows his emotions for you to pour out of him while you thaw him with your own rays of radiance that glisten in your eyes and in the way that you fondly look on at him like he’s the only one that exists in your world.

His baser being demands that he show to you what you mean to him and so he does.

He sings how rapidly his life had gone by and how lonely with lorn he’d been in his wait for his mate in the incertitude of whether he’d been correct in his way of living without you while his arm lifts so his fingers point toward the sky that, through its unstopping hands, had turned the cogs of time.

“Oh, I think I was in yesterday ‘cause everybody walk too fast, don’t know what to do with, am I livin' this right?”

He chants to you about the time that had been stolen sufferingly away from you both in your childhood and adolescence that had barred you both from each other in the forbidding rules of the compound that outlawed with onus your unavoidable union.

“Why am I alone in a different time and space? Oh I can't call ya, I can't hol' ya, Oh I can't…”

He proclaims the struggling strife that had wracked him in being forced to remain apart from you for so unbearably long in his cover behind the trees while he’d watched over you as his soul had cried for the only one that could complete it in the days he’d spent following the orders of his father.

“Sometimes when I’m gasping for air, I wear my hat low and keep running, yeah, I don't know where I go, even if it's opposite of sun…”

He chronicles with vivid verve the verdict that he has brimmed blisteringly with in your brilliance that shines as bright as the stars above while he pumps his closed fist gently against the heart that thumps only for you as he continues, his hand dragging through the hair you’d pulled on in effort to induce his mercy in the wood before he runs his other palm along the thigh he’d watched you so beautifully pleasure yourself on while he’d been blessed with the view of your damned delight atop of him.

“One time for the present and two time for the past, I’m happy that we met each other now til' the very end…”

He declares to you that you are, after so long, the Eve that he will always escape into the verboten oasis to find as he jumps high in the sky, his spirits soaring for you as he watches you reach dotingly for him before he lands to extend a hand of his own to you before spinning in a circle like a clock to once more face you.

“Oh, I will call ya, I will hol' ya, oh I will and yes you know, oh yes you know that I will...”

Enraptured in ardency’s hold over you, Jungkook’s gleaming gold irises are streaked so profoundly with earnest elan that, as they sink into the riveting depths of your own, they scintillate with silver like the genial moon that you are to him as it washes over his eyes the farther that he descends into your deep devoutness that floods you for him.

In the irrefutable irrepressibility of your own sentiments for him, your own eyes dye themselves gold like the sun that is your alpha to you.

His dulcet words phosphoresce the burgeoning seedlings of affectionate attachment to him as he nears you along the lip of the stage that is speckled with candles that cast their light over him like sunbeams themselves that, through their heated kisses, leave him shimmering in an ethereal golden glow that radiates out into the night that has befallen you.

You do not know if a more mellifluous voice exists in the world than his own with the way the chords of your own heart are struck with each soulful solfege that is uniquely and undeniably him as his eyes seek nothing but you, who has brought so much lustrous light to his sky.

Neither of you pay any mind to the collective series of shocked gasps or astonished huffs that are emitted from the converged crowd behind you.

In the stuttered stupefaction that fastens itself to them like moss to a tree, all eyes are on you and your alpha that take notice only of only each other amidst the mutated metamorphosis that had transfigured the irises of both of you to match those of the other through the gift of sight that marks two soulmates in their belonging to one another.

Such an ocular occurrence had not been recorded for over seven thousand years in the rare paucity that the moon granted with the declining diminishment of purebreds descended from the lupi antiquis.

Thus, in the episodical exceptions where the celestial body did bestow such an innately intimate connection between two wolves, it was said that their zealous zest for each other would guide them in their reigned rule over the other wolves that would bring prosperity and peace for generations to come under the moon’s favor.

Yet, under the music’s metrical melody, its sonorous spell casts a coddling cocoon over you and your mate until the silken thrum hums around only the two of you as its fibered filaments shield everything but the both of you from each other’s vision.

Your mate’s vociferous voice fades after the chanted crescendos ravel into decrescendos until the collection of euphonious sounds wrap wholly and completely around you as his body moves with the beat of the organ that pumps only for you within him.

He plants both feet to the floor before a hand trails down his body in a vinelike display while one leg is uprooted off the wood beneath him to swing in front and behind him as if he’s embedded into it and can’t bear to relinquish himself from the earth that grounds and supports him like you do.

Like the celestial bodies whose hands that turn time, he easily epitomizes this when he steps forward, his arms turning in a spherical motion akin to that of sun’s path through the realm above during the days it brings before the moon journey in her brother’s stead as the siblings of the sky steal away the lost moments that had been wracked away from you both amid their ceaseless passing.

His wrist then flicks outward as if he’s trying to halt the spindles of a chronometer from ticking precious time away from him as his irises flare frenetically into your own with the fervor that flecks them.

You whine for him as he moves, his fervent feeling made so precisely palpable with the way his shoulders roll in circles along with the crux of the heart sitting in his chest that hastens its already quickened pace as he glimpses the tender smile lifting along your lips.

It sets his very soul afire with contentedness before one and then the other hand pounds against each pectoral only to then sweep upward to tangle through his hair as his legs splay outward so that each thigh bulges boastfully against the fabric while his wolf howls when he hears you suck in a breath.

It is one that sputters with a stammer from your lips in the emotion he’s nurtured inside you and drawn forth from the deepest recesses of your body that wails needily for him, your wolf baying with want to be closer, nearer and together.

The sound you make lathers itself like honey over his ears and he’s sure he’ll never tire of that with how breathlessly bewildered you had seemed all because of him.

He’s swiftly besieged by his baser being to show to you how much you affect him and to display to you what you do to him in his deep-seated desire for you and, never one to bypass his urges, he does not cage it.

Once his hands have streamed through his luscious locks, he trickles them over his face, irises still settled along the substrate of your own as his fingers drag downward to collect the lapels of his blazer before, in one fluid motion, he sheds it from his shoulders as a loud whimper dribbles from you while you absorb attentively the salacious sight before you.

His hair has fallen crazedly over one eye in curved, thick tufts as an iridescent iris dappled in the chroma of the orbs that oscillate through the sky during the night and day. Through his continued movements, the mingled union of a silver and gold buries itself as deeply as it can within your depths as the offending piece of clothing trails lower until it pools at his wrists.

With a devastating grin, he puffs out his chest with proud pride, a sheen of sweat shining under the thin material amongst dark, dusky nipples that nip against it in protest of its tautness that chafes against them.

Instantly, your legs are rubbing against each other without your mind’s notice as he smirks when your essence that is spawned by your sex spumes over you before its titillating tinge rises in the air to collect under his nostrils.

Your rousing spice seasons every recess of his body in the relish that causes his pupils to dilate in craving, his member growing hard within his trousers for you as he pulls his lip between his teeth with a growl before gyrating around and when your irises meet once again, he pivots to the side at the same time his fist opens and closes while he outstretches a hand for you.

Your limbs are slowly sapped of their strength with each measured movement that he makes and when he runs toward you until he’s dangerously close to the edge of the stage, you think he might reduce you to a puddle on the ground beneath him when his hand returns to the corpulent collection of muscles cording the crus of his leg as he whisks one palm along his thigh while he rotates his ankle inward to have every tendon jump in a torturously teasing sight while his free fingers curl inward before him as he repeats it all with the other.

Saliva pools in your mouth as he sleekly and confidently moves with the impressively intricate series of footwork that he glides impossibly closer to you with and with one final twirl and fatal arch of a brow, he shirks the blazer off him entirely while his ligaments lower him down to one knee in sharp, quick movements that have his chest caving in and out while he descends, his head tipping back to bare a neck sluiced with sweat in a sight that has you drooling in want to touch and feel him against you once again.

Jungkook leers longingly at you when he slides forth onto his other leg with one bent underneath him while the other is jutted out like the perfect throne that you’d gladly fall to your knees for.

He looks like a god that you would readily worship and yet, he dances like a demon.

It is with a lethal dark flash of his eyes that he snaps the fingers of one hand to the final strum of the lute while the other trails damningly along his chiseled body until it settles over the swelling cock throbbing for you that you whine with the unyielding yearningness that has captured every inhibited iota within you under his command.

You are utterly enthralled as his lips move to mouth, “All of this was for you, my omega. Now that everyone knows what we are to each other, no one will dare to keep you from me,” he watches with interest the way that your lips part in his effect on you and curses in how far away you are from him as he utters, “Come to me once I’ve gone away from here, pretty. Your alpha requires your presence after being denied of you in the forest. I will be waiting anxiously for you.”

When he stands to sink into the shadows behind him that the light cannot permeate, your high-pitched warble still has not dissipated.

You only realize this when a spindly, bony hand is laid over your shoulder to pull you back and away from the pack of wolves around you while the familiar and oldened voice of your grandmother tries to break through to you in the stupor set by your alpha.

When you don’t respond to the many redundant repetitions of your name, she squeezes your shoulder to throatily call out, “My, my, my… you are besotted with that alpha that names himself Jeon Jungkook, my dearest granddaughter. I hadn’t the foggiest idea before on why he asked me to allow him to dance, but now I see that it was for you. I suppose that is to be expected, considering everything."

It is the mention of your alpha that grapples your attention away from where you’d last seen him as you tilt your head in question before you quietly squeak, “I am very taken with him, but what do you mean by that?”

She laughs, “Grandchild, these eyes may be old, but I saw within you and he the gift of sight that the moon mother above bestowed to you both that, by her blessed design, declares each of you as the other’s soulmate. Even the gift of olfaction was there, for this nose can still smell the taint of sex that he, along with you, produced during his performance.”

Your eyes widen and your cheeks burn in embarrassment while you stutter, “Grandma, h-he made me do it. I c-couldn’t help it.”

She only pats your head to say, “It is nothing to be ashamed of, grandchild. The moon chose him for you. It is only natural that you respond to him in such a way. Incidentally, what did he say to you at the end of his dance?”

Mortification has you worrying at your lip before as you fidget as you shyly whisper, “He asked that I go to him. I believe he wishes for us to have some time alone together before the offering.”

Your grandmother nods in understanding and instead of finding any trace of dissenting disapproval in her countenance, she encourages, “Then go and join him, my granddaughter. You must be swift, though,” she steps back to gesture to the row of alphas that stand before the stage, “There are only a few performances left before you and he must return for any challengers that may wish to win you from him, though I don’t see how that will be possible as smitten as you appear for that alpha that you call Jungkook.”

Gratification steeply swills over you as you embrace her, “Thank you, grandmother. We will be quick as the wind, you’ll see.”

She waves you off as you scurry with hurry beyond her toward the wooden dwelling that houses the elders, for it secondarily serves as the temporary domain of the dancers that begin the performances where they are allowed to change clothes and prepare in the spare rooms that are located along the first floor.

You do not notice the shift of silhouettes in the distance as you scamper along, your mind swimming in the waters of your alpha that have soused you so.

It is only when you are scuttling along the steps that lead up into the den that you hear the whistle behind you before it is followed in a voice saturated far too saccharinely with sweetness that has your tongue souring in its wake as it muses, “Damn, Taehyung. You weren’t lying. She really is such a divine little thing.”

In the hormones heaving through you, they insistently incur your instincts that are stirred with stimulation only for your alpha and in simultaneous sequence, the repellant revulsion of any wolf that is not him in your baser being’s acknowledged acceptance of Jungkook as your mate.

Your wolf kecks under the miasmatic fumes of malodors that are bitter and acetic as they burn your nostrils, the stench of alphas heavy in the air as you remain in your place with your back to them while you try to stifle the gag that sits low in your throat as you manage, “What do you want with me? Why are you here and who are you?”

You recognize one as Taehyung’s, but the other is unknown to you.

There’s a mawkish chortle that bellows, “You do not know of me? You will, omega. Soon enough, you will. All of you omegas eventually do.”

The words lift the hairs at the base of your neck in the cloying sugariness of them that clump heavily together in their mission to rot your insides as the swish of grass grows louder in the closing distance between you and the stranger that is an obstructing obstacle between you and your alpha.

The unabating advance does not terminate and when you furtively glance over your shoulder to see a hand inching toward you, you cringe with the trace of a hiss tinting your voice, “Do not touch me. My alpha is very protective of me and will not be merciful if you toy with what is his. Your friend over there,” you flick your chin back toward the source of the foul odor that you know to be Taehyung’s, “he was not so lucky when he felt it just to try to take me from my alpha.”

The stranger makes a sound of consideration, “Hm, a creature with some bark to her bite. I like that.”

It’s as though you’re being backed into a corner, your wolf yelping in protest as you try to rein in your emotions that beg you to beseech your alpha that is so close, yet so far away from you right now. If he does not come for you, it is only a matter of time before your claws will come out in defense.

Fingers stretch toward you and before they can make contact with your skin, you bare your teeth to sibilate, “It seems you do not understand. It was only I that could calm Jungkook- who is bound to me and I to him by the moon above- through the rage that overcame him when he was ready to maim Taehyung for foolish disobedience,” you turn to pierce your perpetrator with a cautionary glare as you forewarn, “The wounds that were left in Taehyung’s shoulder are but minor lesions of what my alpha will scar you with should you dare to incur the wrath of my mate.”

In a momentary lapse of an instant, you think that you derive in your detection the distinct aromatic attar of your alpha nearby, but it is fleeting as are the contours that are casted of a darkened outline that, so quickly you think it may have been a trick of your eye, briefly block the light filtering past the opaque aperture of aged glass next to the entrance of the den.

They disappearingly depart almost as soon as they arrive with only a sliver of a scent that remains and without a doubt, there is only one wolf it could belong to in its special singularity.

It had been Jungkook, your alpha.

You wish you could be with him and wonder if an elder had gotten to him before you could, but you’re not given long to ruminate on either of those despite the sudden stoutness that is spritzed over you in Jungkook’s oceanic presence that ebbs and flows faithfully alongside you.

In spite of it all, it is Jimin who stands before you when you look down on him. He is clad in bloodred silks that contrast clashingly with dark smudging around the sides of his eyes while pewter colored hair hangs loosely over his forehead with the oils that must have been used to carefully style it while he cheekily checks you out much to your discontented dismay.

“What you say is of little concern to me, Y/N. I always get what I want and you will be no different,” he says.

You have seen him only a few times before during his performances and had once thought him to be beautiful as a doll, but now you can see where his stitches have become loose in vainness that bursts at his seams.

You take a step back and away from him, your alpha’s presence pouring itself onto you through the remnants of his smell that douse his confidence over you as you cross your arms to chide, “It is a pity your looks have made you so conceited, Jimin. You have become spoiled and ruined by them, it seems,” you harden your gaze at him, “I am not like everyone else and I do not wish to have anything to do with you because I am already promised to Jungkook, who is your pack alpha that you must obey.”

One side of his lips lift up his irises hoggishly digest you from head to toe as he decides, “It’s precious that you believe any of that is enough to stop me,” he climbs one step slowly before ascending up the other until he is eye level with you, “Spend the limited time together that you can, little omega. It will be over soon enough when I reap you from him and harvest the most fruitful crop this fucking pack has ever had and plow you until you’re bursting with my seed instead of his.”

Your alpha has never spoken to you with such disregarding disrespect. It irks you with anger that reddens enflamed within you.

You grimace at that, disgust damningly withering your insides in its blight as you sneer, “Try it, Park Jimin. You will never win against him. When you lose to him like I already am assured that you will,” you lift your chin in defiance, “you’ll regret allowing that minuscule cock of yours to rule over your tiny, pygmy brain.”

That earns a titter from him as he replies, “What a little spitfire you are. No matter,” he gibs, “I will tame you soon enough.”

Obstinance consumes you in its angry wildfire as you scoff, “As if you ever could. Good luck with your attempts that shall only end in bitter failure, for I will never be yours. I belong to Jungkook and there is nothing you could do to change that.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Jimin smiles so wide it’s almost nauseating with how much his lips can twist as he backs away with a quip coming from between them, “When he loses to me-“

“He will not be defeated by the likes of you. This, I know to be true,” you narrow your eyes in certitude’s credence that your blood sings with.

“If I do not win you, then Taehyung will. Nonetheless, we shall see, little omega. We shall see,” his vexing voice dims in deliquesce as the moonlight regressively recedes while the two prowling wolves remit themselves into the shadows of utter umbra that swallow them from sight.

You stand for some moments counting contrived breaths hindered by your ire that had smoked and combusted within you to block your airway from effectively expelling the blazing emotion and it is only when your chest no longer aches with the stressed strain to contract that you set in motility once again to make your way into the elder’s den.

It doesn’t take you long to locate your alpha in the perceptible path of pheromones that lead you to him and there is no havering hesitation that stymies its stall of you from opening the oaken door before closing it as it groans in its senile senescence from the effort of such work.

Any negative sentiments that Jimin had left brewing immediately disintegrate within you as you ogle openly how, with his back to you, your alpha damningly divests from his body the shirt made of pure sin in its tempting taunt to you.

He pulls it from his middle slowly and torturously drags it up to reveal skin soaked by the sun and burned by the claws of combat, the serried slew of muscles lining his shoulders swelling savagely in his mannered motion and only when he lets it fall limply on the floor do his eyes find your own through the mirror he ostentatiously oxidizes you through.

Golden irises specked with silver sear into your own as one brow arches up only for him to rumble out, “Enjoy the show, pretty? I know I did.”

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kjhmyg · 4 years

Text

rough edges pt. 6 (m)

pairing: jungkook | (f) reader genre: college!au, badboy!jk, fluffy too :( warnings: mentions of drugs, unprotected sex, cursing, violence, alcohol, drinking, death, manhandling, college parties, boys lol word count: 10.7K

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / part 6 / 6.5

author’s note: hello i love u. first of all welcome to ♡ libra season ♡ sorry this took so long; it feels kinda short so maybe i’ll post a short 1k chapter next week (part 6.5). i wrote the last half of the last part like an hour ago i hope i didnt make any big grammatical errors or typos lol. also dedicating this to my friend haru who i miss loads.

RE asks tag

What was a red mark on Jungkook’s cheek, has now turned purple-ish. He promises it doesn’t hurt anymore but you notice him mindlessly touching it at times. So you kiss it very gently each time you say goodbye and he doesn’t stop you.

With one arm around over the back of your chair, he’s feeding himself fries with the other. You lean against his shoulder, watching as he nibbles away. “Can’t keep your eyes off me huh?” He mutters.

“You know I can’t.” You admit, giggling into quick, continuous pecks. He lingers on a little longer on the last one like he always does.

“Will you guys save it for the bedroom?” Jimin asks, face twisted in disgust. He doesn’t really care, but it’s fun to tease Jungkook. “Gross.”

“Gross is you dipping fries in your coke.” Hana shakes her head at the soaked fry between his thumb and index finger.

"Don't be mad you don't have refined taste in food like me." He shoots back. “A soaked fry has equal parts sweet and salty.”

“You’re just gross.”

Hana’s realised it doesn’t take much to get under his skin and is enjoying every bit of it. The irony is that it always starts with Jimin trying to get under Jungkook’s skin. Next to Jimin, Taehyung’s phone has his undivided attention. In fact, he’s been rather quiet today, spending the last five minutes or so frowning at his screen.

“Tae, you alright?”

“No.” He sighs, finally looking up. “I have to get a job.”

“...And?”

“Well I don’t want to.” He says simply. “Can’t believe my parents are cutting off my allowance because I spend too much.” He uses air quotes.

Except for Jimin, the rest of you only manage blank stares, unable to sympathise with his first world problem. "Yeah, I’m sure those thousand dollar Balenciaga sneakers you got last week have nothing to do with it.” Jungkook says.

“Jungkook. They were limited edition.”

“A thousand dollars?” You say. “What the hell dude.”

“Okay can we stop talking about the past and focus on the present?” Leaning back against his chair and looking into the distance, Jimin places a comforting hand on his shoulder

“Don’t worry, we’ll find you a nice job.” Jimin says and he lets out a tiny whine, throwing his head back.

That’s when it hits you. You have no idea how, but it does. And you have no idea if it’ll work but you’re doing it anyway.

A clueless Hana raises a brow in question at the sudden look of mischief you give her. She braces herself for whatever you’re about to do, equally curious and worried. “Actually, you should apply at our café.” You say to Taehyung.

“They’re hiring?”

“Well not yet.” Turning back to her, you widen your eyes slightly, prompting Hana to play along. She quickly does, noticing Jungkook watching her over your shoulder. “I’m leaving soon so they’ll definitely need a replacement.”

“You’re quitting?” Jungkook asks, sitting up straight. “What happened?”

“Nothing.” The little head shake you give isn’t enough to convince him. “I just wanna work somewhere else. Anyway, you’d like working there Tae. It’s nice.” The other boy perks up, seemingly interested.

Hana agrees, explaining the details of your work and what it’s like there. While they talk, Jungkook squeezes your shoulder to get your attention, “Are you sure nothing happened? Creeps harassing you again?”

“No, really.” You say, hand over his cheek. “I just want a change of environment. The job’s getting boring.”

The worry in his eyes gradually disappears as he seems to accept it. He gives a soft okay for now. Looking away, you let out a silent sigh of relief. On the inside, the rational side of you is yelling her head off. What possessed you to decide to quit your job for no good reason? This plan is banking on the chance that Jungkook will let you join him at the club. Which when you think about it, is very unlikely to happen.

Yet, another part of you is excited. Your mind is in a frenzy. Convincing yourself you’ll figure the details out later, you silently thank Taehyung and his Balenciagas for handing you this opportunity.

"Oh hey, we better get going." Jimin says, looking at the time on his phone. "We'll see you guys tonight?"

The girls of Eta Iota are hosting a party tonight. Naturally, the boys get invited and by association, you too. Sunhee’s cashing in on your promise of taking her to one, so you have to go even if it’s just to hang around for a while then leave. You part ways with Jimin and Tae as Jungkook gives Hana and you a ride back. He walks with you to the lobby of your place, where you tell Hana to head up first.

Right by the stairwell, he leans against the wall and holds you in his arms, between his legs. “Are you sure you wanna quit your job?”

"Yessss, I’m sure. I wanna work somewhere else." Resting your chin on his chest, you look up at him. "It's cute that you're worried about me."

“Of course I am.” He kisses the top of your head. “I’ll help you keep a lookout for places that are hiring.”

You smile gleefully up at him. Oh, he’s going to help you get a new job alright. Just not in the way he’s thinking. Already, you feel bad for lying to him. But you keep telling yourself you’re doing this for him.

He doesn’t let you go so easily when you try and remove yourself, not giving up his hold on you. When you pry his hands off, he tugs you right back in, locking you in his arms as kisses land all over your face. “Stop,” you laugh, “someone might see us.” But you don’t look around to check for anyone. He doesn’t care either.

He lifts you up easily, wrapping your legs around him. Switching positions, you now feel the cool wall against your back. “Should we skip the party tonight?” He asks, a hopeful look in his eyes.

“You have to go. It’s part of your fraternity sorority socialising thingy thing.” He rolls his eyes at that. “Plus, I promised Sunhee I’d go with her.”

"Fine. But I’m only going ‘cause you’re going."

“So I’ll see you there, okay?” He nods in response as his hold on you loosens. A peck on the cheek and you’re going up the stairs, one step at a time, hand still holding on to his. As it slips away, he squeezes his chest with his other hand and groans in mock pain.

“Silly,” you mutter between giggles. He breaks character and skips up the steps to get another kiss from you. At this rate he would never leave.

“Jungkook seriously,” you say against his lips, leaning back to separate yourself from him, “you should go now. I’ll see you later anyway.”

He complies and lets you go, but not without releasing a very dramatic sigh. You hurry up the steps before he changes his mind, looking down over the railing as you go, waving your goodbye.

𝄖𝄖

Purple, purple everywhere. The Etas had decided to do their rush party while celebrating their anniversary. Which explains why the decorations are of their ‘official’ colour. Purple balloons, cups, banners, napkins.

“This is so fun!” Sunhee squeals, coming up to hug you from behind. “I’ve made a bunch of new friends!” She squeals again and hurries off elsewhere, leaving you and Hana once again.

“I’m glad she’s enjoying herself.” Hana comments, taking a sip of her drink.

“Aren’t you?” You nudge her side. “You’ve had like four guys come up and give you their number. Don’t act like you’re not having fun.”

“I guess I’m havin’ a lil’ fun…” she mumbles towards the end, sipping on her drink with a tiny smile. She’s holding up much better than you thought she would. Much better than you at least, she doesn’t seem too bothered by the constant yelling.

There’s no reason to worry about Sunhee. She’d clung on to you earlier when you arrived together as promised, like you’re her ticket in. As soon as you passed through the doors, a couple of girls from the host house came up to greet you. While it was a little awkward for you, Sunhee saw her chance and took it. She’s been hanging out with them since.

“Where’s Jungkook?” Hana asks. She’s still unsure about your plan. You had gotten an earful from her earlier on, back at the apartment. Only after you promised, pinky promised and swore you’d be safe, did she finally calm down.

“Somewhere.” It’s crowded enough to not be able to see the other end of the room. You crane your neck to see better. “Don’t know if I can find him with all these people around.”

“Go.” Her pretty, long eyelashes flutter over her eyes as she looks at you. “Don’t worry about me.”

You’re hesitant to leave, but she reiterates that she’d be fine and you finally nod, much to her relief. She has Jimin and Taehyung with her anyway, she says, nodding over to the pair a few feet away.

Before disappearing into the crowd, you turn back to let her know you might not see her for the rest of the night. But she’s read your mind, waving her hands at you. “You’ll be with Jungkook, I know.”

“Text me when you get home. I love you.” You blow her a kiss and watch her roll her eyes, then push through bodies of people to get to a different part of the house. There’s way too many people here. Most of them tower at least a head over you, disrupting your view. Your phone vibrates just as you enter the biggest room of the house which gives you a little more maneuvering space than the previous one.

Jungkook: u look great

Slowly, you turn in the spot you’re in, paying close attention to each section of the room.

Jungkook: i like pink

Jungkook: ur ass looks great in those jeans btw

You: reveal yourself

He doesn’t respond and you continue to wander around, until you reach a short hallway separating the kitchen area from the previous room. With more room to breathe, you decide to stay put knowing Jungkook won’t keep this up for long anyway. And you’re right.

"Looking for me?" His hot breath tickles your ear.

Spinning around, you're greeted by his wide grin and immediately hate how good he looks in a simple white tee with his house name, Kappa Sigma embedded on the left chest, and tucked into black jeans, "Hey you." He tastes like fruit punch when you kiss him.

Your bodies sway slightly to the music with his hands on your hips and your arms around his neck. He reaches behind, pulling something out of his back pocket and holds it up in front of you. “Lollipop?”

“It’s...purple.” You take it from him, observing its odd colour, wondering if this was even necessary.

“I know.” He chuckles. “They really go all out.”

You shrug, unwrapping the sweet and pop it in your mouth. “So, you wanna get out of here?” He asks.

“But I thought you liked parties,” you blink, “socialising, hooking up.”

“I know you’re making fun of me but it’s kinda hot when you talk like that.” He eyes the way your lips wrap around the lollipop, unconsciously mirroring the movement of your tongue licking the layer of sugar off your lips, suddenly going thirsty.

You shove him in the chest and he laughs, stepping back. “I’ve been here less than an hour.” You say. Although, it’s not like you were planning to stay long anyway. You know that, he knows that.

“You won’t miss a thing, trust me.” He hooks an arm over your shoulder. “Besides, we can get started on the hooking up part.” He winks.

You leave through the back, avoiding the large crowd up front. You quickly send a text to Hana to let her know you’re leaving. Out on the lawn, you walk past a group of guys drunkenly singing to their heart's content and you flash them a thumbs up despite how horrible they sound.

The Eta Iota house is just a few houses down from the boys’ and you walk back hand in hand, swinging your arms as you go. Jungkook watches your smile, and the way you laugh when your arms swing so far back that it throws you off balance and you almost fall. “You look good.” He says, softly.

“I know, you told me.” You say without sparing him a glance. “I look good in pink. And these jeans are good for my ass.”

“No.” His voice is as soft as his smile. Looking at him then, you notice the tender look in his eyes. “I mean you look good when you’re happy. It’s nice. Does that make sense? I don’t know.”

Your heart leaps at the way he looks away almost shyly, focusing entirely on the ground as he walks, his other hand in his pocket. You close the gap between you and kiss him on the cheek. “I’m always happy when I’m with you.”

“I’m happy when I’m with you too.”

The rest of the short walk back goes in comfortable silence, you still lightly swinging your arms. But as you reach the front of the house, Jungkook pauses. It surprises you when he decides to take a walk in the park instead. You give him curious glances along the way, wondering what’s gotten into him. It’s a ten minute walk from his place to a park that’s your go-to for impromptu date nights.

You walk past groups of people hanging around, laughing with food on large picnic mats. Finally you opt for an empty space on the grass, not too far away from others there but secluded enough to have some privacy.

“Oh my god, look at the clouds.” They’re big and fluffy, floating through the dark sky. “I wish we could see the stars. That’d be perfect.”

Jungkook follows your gaze. “There are places where you can do that you know.”

“Yeah, I’d love to go one day.” You say with a heavy sigh.

“We could go together.” Jungkook says, making you look at him. “Like a vacation.”

“Aw. I’d love that.”

He smiles sweetly, then turns in place to face you. “I went to look for places which were hiring earlier.”

“You did? Why?”

“Aren’t you...quitting your job?” He looks at you confused. “Unless you’ve changed your mind.”

“Yeah but, there’s no rush.”

“Just wanna make sure you have something to fall back on.” He says, checking his phone. “So, the bakery right next to the cafe is hiring.”

“Jungkook,” you laugh, “I can’t quit and then take up a job next door!”

“I know but, just in case.” He goes on, looking upwards as he recalls. “The school’s also looking for a part-time librarian⎼”

“Baby no, that’s so boring.” You groan. “I thought I’d look for something more...exciting. Like a routesetter maybe?”

“I didn’t know you rock climb?”

“Oh I don’t.” He looks at you with a blank expression on his face. “What? I can learn to!”

"You're weird." He shakes his head and taps your nose. "Why would you wanna go out of your way for a part time job?"

"Cause...it's fun?"

"Even you don't believe that."

"You're right." The wheels in your head turn at full speed, trying to make this as natural as possible. You have to be careful, Jungkook's way too attentive when it comes to you. "Okay, I'll be honest."

He perks up. Face filled with curiosity, as if ready to say I knew it, that something was up, and that you wouldn't leave your job over nothing.

"I'm quitting because…" You gulp. "I want to spend more time with you."

"What?"

"Don't be mad." You add in quickly. "I just thought that I'd get to have more time to spare for you if I wasn't always working."

Eyes closed, he lets out a sigh and drops his head with a little shake. The small smile and amused look in his eyes makes you smile too. “Are you serious? Are you running a fever?” He places the back of his palm against your forehead and then checks the pulse on your wrist.

“I’m fine.” You snatch your hand back.

“The Y/N I know wouldn’t make impulsive decisions like this.” He quirks a brow, “You know you need that job. How else will you pay rent? Get groceries? You don’t ever let me pay for anything.”

“I’ll find a job with less hours.”

“Less hours, less pay.” He lifts your chin up, pouty lips calling him in. “Don’t be silly baby, you’re not leaving your job.”

“Too late.”

“What d’you mean?”

“I...may have...emailed my resignation...earlier on.”

He groans and you cringe when he shoots you a look of disapproval. You give your best kicked puppy look which doesn’t work. “This doesn’t happen often but I’m really mad at you right now.”

“Don’t be.” You scoot closer and when he turns his head away, you move onto his lap, forcing him in an embrace. “I’ll find something.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Go back to work tomorrow and speak to your manager. Tell him you’ve changed your mind.” He asks seriously. “I’ll go and have coffee during every one of your shifts so we’re technically spending time together.”

“Don’t be silly.”

“I’m the silly one?”

“Okay fine, I’m sorry.” You sigh. “I didn’t think things through…”

“You’re damn right you didn’t.” He rests his head in his palm. “So, what are you gonna do now?”

“Spend more time with you?” You inch even closer, if it’s even possible with how you’re already sticking to him like glue. He doesn’t reply right away but squeezes you in his hold, resting his cheek on your head. “Are you still angry?”

“Yes.”

You lift your head off him for a kiss. When he sighs this time, he feels the anger dissipating. At the same time he curses the way his body betrays him when it comes to you. You can barely tell he’s upset with the way he responds so eagerly. The pleased look you give him after has him rolling his eyes. “You can’t be mad at me. I’m cute.”

“True.” He leans back, hands on the grass behind him. “But, we are going to look for job postings online tonight.”

“But mom!” You whine, folding your arms in front of you.

“No buts.”

“Not even my butt?” Blinking innocently at him, you add in a little head tilt until he breaks and starts grinning. “Thought you liked my butt.”

He falls onto the grass, laughing in disbelief and you steady yourself on his chest. “What has gotten into you?” He says, watching as you hover over him. “You’re acting so weird.”

“No I’m not. I’m just happy, like you said.” You kiss him on the nose. “You’re the weird one. Nagging at me about getting a job. Being a responsible adult and stuff.”

He flips over, switching your positions so that he’s hovering over you now. Almost immediately, you’re distracted by how dreamy he looks with the view of the night sky behind him. You run your thumb over one side of his cheek. “You did this to me. Plus I’m just looking out for you.”

“I know. Thank you.”

“Don’t worry. I can pull some strings and get you a job somewhere fun.”

He rolls over to your side and lets you rest your head under his arm, both of you watching the sky. You shift even closer, slinging one leg over his and draw circles on his chest. “Hey I mean, worse comes to worst, I could always come and work for you.”

Surprisingly, he laughs. Really hard. You lift yourself up and rest on your elbow to watch him. “Nice one.” He sighs. Then he notices the way you’re looking at him, face void of expression and brows up in question. “What? You were serious?”

“Slightly offended that you thought it was that funny but yes, I was.”

He raises a brow at you. “You? Want to work at a club? Doing what?”

“Bartender? Cleaner?”

“Don’t even joke about that, our cleaners are our most valuable staff. They clean, sanitise, then double sanitise, wipe up vomit, make sure the booths aren’t lined with nasty fluids.”

Your face twists in horror and he nods, proving his point. “Okay...fine so I’m not qualified enough for that. But bartending? I can do that.”

“No.”

“Why?”

He gets up and you follow. He ruffles the back of his head and dusts of the grains on his hands. “Baby, you’re not working there. I won’t allow it.”

“But𝄖”

“Y/N, I said no.” There was no room to argue, not even cheekily. He didn't raise his voice, but the tone he took was enough. Easing the firm stare he gave you as he said it, he turns his attention to his phone as it beeps.

𝄖𝄖

"Lucky for you, I told the manager you just needed a break to focus on school," Hana yawns, pulling up the blanket to her face, "you can come back anytime."

"You want me to give up?"

"Only because your plan is dangerous."

"Hana, I'm not giving up."

She sighs, turning over to the other side. “Let’s talk tomorrow. I’m tired.”

You push yourself off her bed and sit on the edge, thinking. Quietly, you pull open the drawer by her bed, fumbling around until you feel what you’re looking for. The little paper you tore out of Jungkook’s notebook. When he started sleeping over, you had asked Hana to keep it safe for you. You stare at the address. You hadn’t gotten round to visiting the place, especially since you don’t even know what you’re looking for.

“Turn off the light when you leave, will you?” Hana mumbles half-asleep.

You leave the piece of paper and close the drawer.

𝄖𝄖

Two days later, you’re back at his place. The guys are all over, making sure the house is ready for a party tonight. Each of them were assigned different tasks to settle to save time. When you arrived, Hoseok made sure to separate Jungkook from you, for the sake of efficiency, so you’re stuck in the kitchen with Jimin. Helping him with the cleaning, you listen mindlessly as he rambles on about something. He yells at every guy that enters and tries to steal some snacks but sneaks some into his mouth when no one’s looking.

Just as you’re done wiping down the chip bowls, Jungkook walks in with dark stains all over his shirt and face. He chugs down half a bottle of orange juice from the fridge before opening a bag of gummies placed on the table for the party which has Jimin groaning.

“What happened to you?”

“Car oil needed changing. Cleaned up under the hood too.”

“What?” Jimin shrieks. “You were working on your car this entire time?”

“Yeah?”

“While the rest of us were preparing for the party? Unbelievable!” He huffs, “You were supposed to fix the first floor bathroom⎼”

Jungkook signals for him to stop, holding up a palm. “Fine, I’ll go do it now.” He reaches out for your hand and continues to nod at everything Jimin says as he tags you along, the nagging fading away as you run upstairs.

“You should really go and help out.” You say, plopping down on his bed with a bounce.

Jungkook hums, “I will. Later.”

Sniffing the shirt he has on, he lets out a disapproving grunt. He removes it in one swoop and tosses it into a basket. You watch quietly as he steps closer, eyes fixed on yours. He leans forward and your hands grip the sheets as you lean back, looking at him expectantly. Then his arm moves past your head and reaches for another shirt on the bed, behind you. He snickers and you slap his shoulder.

“I’m leaving.”

“Aw, come on, don’t go.” He jumps into bed and grabs you. He leans on his side, propped up on his elbow, hand on your middle.

“I have to get some groceries.” You play with his hair. “Then I’m gonna freshen up and come back here in time for the party.”

“Great, I’ll drive you.”

“No, you stay. Fix the bathroom.”

“But I don’t want to.” He groans, and rolls over onto you. Almost naturally, your legs wrap around him and he starts kissing your neck, moving down to your chest, pulling down your shirt. You stop him, giggling. “Why do you always wanna leave when we kiss?” He frowns.

“Why do you always kiss me when I’m leaving?”

“‘Cause I don’t want you to leave."

The smell of your skin makes him smile. It smells like...home.

You feel his weight slowly get heavier on you as his body relaxes and melts into yours, nestling his face into your neck. He almost drifts to sleep with the way you’re rubbing his back. When you ruffle his hair, he lifts his head and claims a kiss. “I love you.”

“Love you too. Kookie.”

You giggle as he drops his face in the space between your neck and shoulder. Groaning, he recalls the night Suga found out about the nickname. He has since, constantly used it on Jungkook whenever he can. “He’s never letting that go. Thanks a lot.”

“I’m sorry.” You laugh, chest moving under him. “I was drunk. I didn’t know what I was saying.”

Supporting his weight on one arm, he hovers above you while his free hand brushes past the side of your face. “You don’t remember anything you said that night?”

“No.” That can’t be good. You scan his face. “Why? Did I say something weird?”

“No. Just wondering.” He says gently, expression slowly changing into a smile that makes you forget you were even worried a second ago. “Don’t get drunk anymore. Suga likes you way too much when you’re drunk.”

“Does he?” You laugh, cupping his face. If Suga likes you, you can use this to your advantage. You can’t wait to tell Hana your plan worked.

When Jungkook hears the sound of his name being called from somewhere around the house, he groans and sinks into you again. You push him off you with much difficulty, laughing as he keeps plopping back down into you.

“Okay, they need you. I’m leaving so you can focus. I’ll come back later.” You say, when you finally manage to escape. Reluctantly, he follows behind as you walk down the stairs.

Just as you reach the bottom of the steps, you’re being pulled to the side, against the wall where he corners you into, hands on either side. “I’ll be waiting, so you better show up.” Down your back, up your front, his hands run over your body till they rest just under your jaw, making you lift your chin towards him. Breath hitching in your throat, he carefully brings his lips to yours, teasing a soft touch. Then he lets go.

He smiles like nothing happened and you catch your breath before racing to the front door. You hear a soft chuckle and turn to see him winking at you as he goes in the other direction. Hearing voices from the kitchen where the meeting has started, you quickly close the door behind you, ignoring the pulsing between your thighs.

𝄖𝄖

With a basketful of groceries, you stroll through the store, looking for anything you might have missed out. As you walk, you notice from afar, standing right in front of the refrigerated section your new friend Namjoon. You head straight for him, a little bounce in your step. When you stop right next to him, he turns slowly and carefully.

“Oh. It’s you.” He says as he realises.

“Getting some groceries?” You ask, looking at the shelf then back at him.

“Oh just,” he lifts up a bottle of juice, “getting my orange juice. I see you’re getting your monthly supply. You alone?”

“Yeah I am.” You nod, “My roommate’s busy with school stuff.”

“Right.” He smiles, then it seems like a thought comes to him. “Hey, you’re going for the party tonight right?”

“What? How’d you know about that?” You look at him confused.

“I have friends too you know.”

“But, you can’t come. You’re technically faculty.” You say, putting down your basket to fold your arms in front of you and stare him down. “Are you trying to get us in trouble?”

He chuckles, then points and holds up a finger in front of you. “Actually, I’m an external instructor. So technically, I’m not faculty.”

“How convenient.” You eye him down.

“Fine, fine.” He sighs. “It’s been a while since I’ve been to a party, okay? I just wanna mingle.”

“Hm.” You chew on your bottom lip. Seems genuine enough. You can’t help but wonder if he’s there for something else. How will that go down with Jungkook? “An instructor looking to mingle with his students...definitely no red flags there.”

He rolls his eyes at you. “Come on, I’m not that much older than you. And I’m not that kinda person.”

“That’s what they all say.” You shrug. “Well, I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

“Cool.” He winks. “I’ll see you tonight.”

He walks off way too quickly, like he’s avoiding something and heads straight for the checkout counter. Of course you know why he’d go to a college party; the perfect place to sell his drugs. You can’t figure out if you should let Jungkook know about Namjoon. But then again, he almost always knows what’s going on. And he’d be uneasy knowing you know so much.

You pick up your basket off the floor and head for checkout yourself. Barely making ten steps, you notice someone leaning against the side of a shelf, watching you with his arms crossed, mischievous smile on his face. Your other new friend. How coincidental.

“Suga.” You say, a tone way too excited for his liking but he nods anyway. You walk over to him and stand awkwardly before him, holding your basket with both hands in front of you. “Hi.”

“Hey cutie.” He searches for someone behind you. “Where’s Jungkook?”

“Oh he’s back at home.” You smile. “They’re getting ready for rush week. And the party tonight.”

“Am I invited?”

“Oh, um…” You can tell he’s joking, but you can’t be too sure. How interesting would it be to have Jungkook, Namjoon and Suga in one place. You wonder what would happen if they met.

You chuckle nervously without giving an answer and he shrugs it off. “I was kidding.”

“I guess you can come if you want to.” You say with a tiny shrug. “I’m sure Jungkook won’t mind.”

He changes the subject almost immediately, offering to help you carry your basket, which you politely decline. He walks with you to the counter. “So who was that guy you were talking to?”

Oh, he’s an instructor from school and also the new drug dealer in town. “Oh him? He’s the new self-defense instructor on campus.”

“Really?” He looks amused, and bites his bottom lip in a half-smile. “Cool. And you guys are friends?”

“Yeah. Kinda.” You place your basket on the counter and help the cashier to unload the items to scan. You don’t notice the way Suga laughs silently to himself, shaking his head.

“You know what, I gotta go.” Suga says, walking backwards towards the exit. You don’t even manage to reply to him before he takes off. “Let’s drink again sometime soon!”

𝄖𝄖

Hana is less than pleased to know about your run-ins. She looks at you with daggers in her eyes. “You have to stop this. He obviously knows your plan."

"Stop overreacting. How could he possibly know that?"

She shrugs. The loud music drowns out your voices from being overheard by those around you. "It's hard to believe it was a coincidence running into him.” She says and you sigh, choosing to ignore her.

The last you saw Jungkook, he was laughing away with a group of people. You didn’t want to bother him, he’d be busy anyway trying to get freshies on his side. But it’s been a while and now you don’t see him anywhere.

While Hana mingles, you go off to look for him. In the kitchen, you find Jimin doing shots of something that doesn’t look edible with a bunch of guys cheering him on. But no Jungkook. You peek out on the deck out back but he’s not there either. A hand on the sliding doors, you sigh and step out into the courtyard, breathing in air that doesn’t smell like sweat.

You pause when you step down the stairs and spot something, squinting at the sight of two guys in the far end of the backyard, right by the bush-lined fence. Recognising that jacket, you realise one of them is Jungkook. He then pulls something out of his pocket and shakes hands with the other guy. You turn back before he spots you. Probably just a polite handshake. Maybe with an old friend. Yup.

Step back inside, you’re being stopped by a hand on your arm. “You look flustered.” He says.

“Hi Hoseok.” You force a smile. “It’s warm in here.”

His eyes flicker over to the backyard and back at you. “This is what he does at parties. It’s how he distributes them.”

“So?” You look around uncomfortably.

“I know you don’t like it either.” He stops you before you can reply. “Can you meet me outside in ten minutes? It’s important.”

“You’re already here, what is it? No one’s paying any attention to us anyway.”

“I can’t.”

The sceptical look you give him has him feeling restless. “Trust me, it’s very important.”

From the tone of his voice, he sounds sincere. You don’t want to, but do you want to risk not knowing something that could help you help Jungkook? You hate this. After a long pause, you nod reluctantly. “Fine.”

Neither of you realised the two figures approaching until they’re walking up the steps. Hoseok and you share a look, as if pleading to the other to act normal. As they reach the door, you see now that Jae is the other guy. He greets you as he walks past, then blends into the crowd. Behind him, Jungkook spares you a curious look at the little exchange. He then notices Hoseok’s presence.

“What’s going on?” He looks back and forth at the two of you. “You look upset.”

“Hm? Oh no, I’m fine.” You muster up your best smile. “We were just talking about the guy who puked in the sink earlier.”

“Speaking of which, I should go make sure he’s not puking elsewhere.” Hoseok says, taking his leave.

You can’t tell if Jungkook bought that but he doesn’t question it. His demeanour changes as soon as Hoseok leaves, directing his attention on you. “He wasn’t bothering you, was he?”

“No.” You smile. “I ran into him while looking for some food.”

“Oh⎼”

He doesn’t get a chance to continue when someone he knows slaps him on the back. They chat for a while as he keeps you close next to him, even when you try to pry his fingers off. The other guy drags him somewhere but before he goes, he turns to you. “Grab some food and meet me upstairs, I’ll just be a second.” He winks, stealing a kiss.

“You don’t have to. I’ll just come find you later on it’s fine𝄖”

“You’re not getting rid of me babe.” He jokes and you let out an awkward laugh as he goes.

You haven’t mastered being in two places at once, you’re not a ninja. And in a few minutes, Hoseok will be waiting for you outside. And Jungkook upstairs. You groan, searching the cabinets for some snacks before heading up to Jungkook’s room.

That’s when you notice a familiar blond head among the crowd you. It distracts you. You could’ve sworn that was Suga. But too many people are blocking your line of sight. As you reach the spot you had possibly seen him, he’s gone. You don’t have time to think about this. Swiftly, you run up the steps and head right for Jungkook’s door. And of course, a familiar face exits the washroom on the same floor.

“Namjoon.”

“Why do you look so surprised to see me?” He raises a brow with a playful smile on his face. “I told you I was coming.

You shake your head and look behind you. “Nothing I was just⎼”

“Hogging all the snacks?” He gestures towards the food you’re cradling in your arms and you laugh.

“There’s more downstairs.” You reassure him.

As if on cue, footsteps move swiftly up the stairs and you glance behind to find Jungkook halfway up, a cautious look on his face as he approaches you. Namjoon nods politely. For a moment it’s like you can no longer hear the music blasting, enveloped by the awkward silence.

“Uh, Jungkook this is Namjoon.” You notice the way his jaw clenches as he takes Namjoon’s outstretched hand in his. “And this is Jungkook.”

“The boyfriend. Nice to meet you.” He flashes a blinding smile Jungkook’s way.

“Likewise.”

Namjoon reads the room well and you’re thankful for it. He excuses himself, saving you from having to grease the conversation any further. “See you guys around.” He says, leaving.

Jungkook opens the door for you and you drop the snacks on his table. His fingers immediately wrap around you, lifting you up and throwing you onto the bed. “Finally." He mutters pulling you in.

You giggle nervously as he kisses you all over, pulling away from him. He shoots you a confused look. "Wait I...need the toilet."

He throws his head back but moves aside to let you go. "Okay. I'll wait."

Hurrying out, you close the door and run downstairs, rushing past the sea of bodies to the front door. Once outside, you look around scanning the few faces there for him. Hoseok stands around the corner at the side of the house and calls out your name.

The front and back of the house is well lit, but not the sides. Both of you stand in the shadows by the wall, waiting for him to speak. But he doesn't, instead, he looks around anxiously.

"Hoseok, what is it? You said this is important!" You hiss. "I can't be too long, Jungkook's waiting for me."

"Just give him a second, he'll be here."

"Who?"

"He's here." His eyes focus on a man wearing a navy sweatshirt, hoodie pulled up so you can't really see who it is. He only pulls it down when he joins you in the shadows.

"Hi."

"Y/N, this is Seokjin. He works with my friend."

"Oh. Hello." You watch him curiously. If you could describe a smile as being trustworthy, it would be his.

"Thanks for meeting me," he starts, "I’ll make it quick. It's about a case I'm sure the two of you are familiar with. Actually, I'm here to speak to you, Y/N."

"Me?" You ask, worrying.

"As you know we have an agent working undercover. He's seen you around and since you know about this operation, he’s worried you might get too close, given your relationship with one of the suspects involved. We want to make sure you stay out of it as much as possible."

"But I'm not doing anything to jeopardise the operation."

"We know." He nods, "But still, we have to emphasise that these people are dangerous. You do not want to get involved. You shouldn’t know about this operation in the first place, but nothing we can do about that now.”

Hoseok’s eyes downcast and hands hide in his pockets, knowing he wasn’t supposed to reveal anything to you. “He’s okay right?” He asks softly.

“He’s fine. He personally contacted me to speak with you. And he’s sorry he hasn’t answered his phone, it’s too risky.”

“Who’s this guy again? Do I know him?” You ask.

“You already know too much as it is. I can’t reveal the name of our agent. We can’t risk him getting exposed, it could cost him his life.”

Silence ensues. It’s uncomfortable to think about how someone could literally die from an unfortunate slip of the tongue. You wait for someone to diffuse the tension. Hoseok looks like he’s in thought, opening his mouth to speak then stopping. Seokjin beats him to it. “In case it’s not clear enough, your plan ends here Y/N.”

How does he⎼ oh. So that’s why Hoseok looks troubled. You stare him down and mutter through clenched teeth. “You told him.”

“I didn’t mean to!” He spits out. “When Seokjin called me earlier, I got reminded of you. I had to tell him. And I know you wouldn’t listen to me anyway, so I got him to come here.”

“Listen. I just want to help Jungkook, that’s all.” You sigh. “I promise I won’t get in the way.”

“I get it. Hoseok’s explained it to me.” It’s Seokjin’s turn to sigh. “Doesn’t matter what your intentions are, it’s best if you stay away.”

You look helplessly over at Hoseok, then reluctantly agree with a nod. “I’ll try.”

“No, you see, this isn’t a request. It’s an order. There is a chance you’ll get convicted as part of the group if you don’t keep your distance. Is that what you want?”

“No. But𝄖”

“Good, so we’re on the same page.”

“No, we’re not.” Huffing, you step closer to him. “I’m not doing this for fun. I’m trying to get my boyfriend out of there.”

“I understand. But there’s no telling what could happen. Let us handle it. If he’s innocent, then you don’t have anything to worry about. The most important thing here is that you don’t end up getting caught up in the mess. Do you really want to be associated with criminals?”

“Jungkook’s not a criminal.”

Seokjin holds up his hands in a surrender. “That’s not what I meant.”

Hoseok gulps, gently touching your arm. “Y/N please. Let them handle it.”

“I am letting them handle it.” You say stubbornly before turning back to Seokjin. “Look, I’m just here for Jungkook. Tell that to your guy. I won’t stand in the way of the operation.”

“You do know that this is all off the record?” Seokjin starts, “That means even though our undercover, as well as I, am aware that you’re not involved, if by any chance you’re caught with drugs or anything illegal at the time of the raid, you might get convicted. There will be no records to show that you’re innocent.”

“I understand.”

“Alright.” Seokjin pulls his hoodie back up. Now you can only faintly see the bottom half of his face. “Take care. Remember, no one else can know about this.”

He takes off in quick steps, round the corner and down the street. Hoseok fidgets in his spot, trying to find the right words. “I didn’t make him do this to scare you or anything. Promise.”

“I know, Hoseok.” You smile softly. “But you get it right? Why I’m doing this?”

“Yeah...” he trails off for a moment, then continues. “You saw him earlier didn’t you?”

“I did.” You shake your head with a sigh, “Trust me okay? I’m doing everything I can to help Jungkook, like you wanted me to.”

“I never wanted this. I don’t want you to get hurt if things don’t go as planned.”

“Whatever happens after, I’ll deal with it then.”

𝄖𝄖

Feeling numb, the walk back upstairs feels like you’re on autopilot, barely hearing the buzzing of the crowd. You take a deep breath before turning the knob of Jungkook’s door, willing yourself to forget the last ten minutes ever happened. He’d read you like a book in this state.

But your bright smile is wasted on an empty room.

“Jungkook?”

𝄖𝄖

The next day, you're sitting on the running track, soaked in sweat after a long session of track and field. The coach bids his goodbye as the team continues their cooling down stretches. Hana plops down next to you. “So?”

“What?”

“You wanna talk about it?” She asks, picking dirt off of your cheek with her thumb. “You seemed really out of it last night. Barely spoke the whole day today…”

“I’m sorry.” You shake your head. “Just thinking.”

You decided not to tell her about Seokjin and everything that was said last night. For now at least. She already has reservations about your plan as it is, telling her about Seokjin would just freak her out even more.

“Jungkook called you yet?”

“Mhm.” Technically it was a text, wishing you good morning with a kissy face emoji. Not wanting to make a big deal out of the night before, you reply as you normally would. “Don’t worry about me, I’m just tired actually.”

She hangs an arm over your shoulder and gives you a side hug. “No more parties for you.”

“Yeah they’re kinda lame aren’t they?” You laugh.

After grabbing your stuff, you’re headed for the locker room. You're too deep in thought to realise the girls on your team giggling around you. It isn't until Hana nudges you then nods to bleachers that you realise your boyfriend is waiting for you. He salutes the other ladies with a winning smile as they walk off, before getting off his butt.

The girls mutter quietly, and you hear the words lucky and they're so cute as they leave you. Hana waves to Jungkook before walking ahead. Jungkook trots down the steps and lifts you in a hug.

“Sorry, I’m sweaty.”

“That’s okay,” he smiles, swaying you side to side, “not the first time I have you all sweaty in my arms.”

“Shut up.”

He laughs, then starts swinging your hands as you walk back. “Hey sorry about last night."

"Oh it’s fine. Don't worry about it." You say, with a shake of your head, looking at the ground. "You're a busy man, I know."

"Can I make it up to you? Tonight?"

"Alright." You nod. "I gotta shower first though. And you have to give me a ride back to get some fresh clothes."

"No need to dress up."

"But I want to." You pout and he chuckles.

The sound of whistling and yelling coming from the field gets your attention. It's the soccer team, practice still ongoing. It only just occurred to you that you haven't seen Jungkook there in a while.

"Why aren't you practicing with them anymore? Did you quit?"

Jungkook looks at you with an amused look on his face. "Y/N, I was never part of the team."

"Huh?" You stop in your tracks. "I'm pretty sure I've seen you on that field running after the ball."

"Yeah but I was never really on the team." He reiterates. Now you're confused. "I only practiced with them so I could watch you during track and field."

"What?"

"Have you forgotten? I'm on the basketball team."

Honestly, you hadn’t made the connection that it’s impossible for him to be on both the soccer and basketball teams until now. "No wait, you joined them just to watch me?"

"Yes and no?" He shrugs proudly. "At first it was because I got kicked off the basketball team. Then we started dating. I got to see you every practice. Then I got reinstated on the basketball team. And I didn't wanna stop seeing you during practice so I kept going. Until now."

"Jungkook that is𝄖"

"Sweet?"

"Lowkey creepy."

He lets out a tiny gasp with a look of betrayal on his face. "But...I wanted to see you."

You laugh at the utter disappointment he shows and pat his face, though it feels like a light slap, before running off making him chase after you.

𝄖𝄖

Laying on the hood of his car, with his arm under your neck, Jungkook listens to you talk about anything and everything. In your favourite spot, parked by the beach so you get the cool breeze and the gentle sound of waves crashing onto the shore.

He enjoys listening to you talk about your life; what your childhood was like, what kind of trouble you used to get into, your family. It’s like peeling off a new layer every time. Who knew you used to bully the bully as a kid? And let’s not forget that time you got detention for smoking in school but you only did it to get your dad’s attention so that he would stop dating the evil girlfriend who threatened to send you off to boarding school.

“Baby are you...a troublemaker?” He muses and you laugh.

“Well I was. I grew out of it.” You shrug and look up at him. “Kinda.”

“Would’ve never guessed. You’re so shy. And good.”

“Yeah. Once I realised how my behaviour was affecting people’s liking towards me, I changed.”

He smiles tenderly at you, always so full of surprises. You play with the hem of his sweater, then look up at him. “What about you? You haven’t told me anything about your past.”

Not once has he shared his own stories. You never asked because you didn’t want to pressure him. But you’re almost out of stories yourself.

Jungkook looks up at the sky for a while. You sense the hesitance. “There’s nothing much to say.”

“What about...your family? Do you have any siblings?”

There’s no reply, only the sound of the waves crashing and a distant laughter from a group of friends on the beach. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay.” Propping yourself up on your elbow, you see now the faint sparkle in his eyes. Could be the cool breeze making his eyes water. He blinks it away when you stare. “We can talk about other things.”

He smiles as his eyes scan your face before you’re snuggling into his side again. “I like hearing your stories.”

“But I’ve told you everything.”

“What about your first kiss?”

You groan. “I’ve told you that one. It was during camp. He pushed me into the lake after that because it was all a dare.”

“Oh right and then you threw all his clothes into the lake as revenge.”

“Yeah.” You laugh. “It was pretty funny.”

He laughs thinking about tiny Y/N lugging a big bag full of clothes and dumping it into a lake as the owner yells in horror. Who knew you had it in you. You’re always so calm and by the book, it’s almost like a whole other person.

“Can you tell me about your tattoo?” You look up at him.

He smirks, turning his head to the side towards the arm it’s on. It’s a tiger head on the upper bicep of his right arm. Made up of shapes, lines, squiggles, it has sharp piercing eyes. It’s beautiful, really. “It’s just something to represent my loyalty towards my brothers.”

You’ve never seen this mark on the other frat boys, so you assume he’s talking about his other group of brothers. “It’s nice. I like it.”

“Mhm.” It’s tough to crack him. He never reveals more than what he thinks you need to know.

After a while, you pluck up the courage to ask him about the job. “Have you thought about what we discussed?” You ask softly, playing with his fingers.

“What did we discuss?”

“About the job,” you remove yourself from him again and this time get on your knees, “about me working at the club?”

He sighs, looking at you like the stubborn teenager in your stories. “I already told you no.”

“You won’t even consider it.” You pout.

He smiles, surprisingly. “After careful consideration, I regret to inform you that you’ve been rejected. You don't have what it takes.”

“Rude!” You huff, “I have all that it takes.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes I do! I’m tough.” You spit out. You strike an awkward pose, doing something weird with your arms. “I have swag.”

It makes him laugh so hard he starts tearing and almost choke on his saliva. Embarrassed, you laugh along, hitting him on his chest. Cheeks hurting from all that, he opens his arms. “Come here you.”

You drop into him, mostly to hide your face in his shoulder. He holds you tight, a content sigh escapes him as he does. “I love you so much.” He says into your ear.

Lifting your head up to face him, he smiles tenderly at you, softly tracing a finger over your face, the lulling movement making your eyes flutter shut.

𝄖𝄖

“You got a problem with me?” Namjoon says to the smaller guy.

Suga smirks bitterly, unimpressed by how the new guy has no respect whatsoever towards him. “I do actually. What’s your deal?”

“What d’you mean?”

“You appear out nowhere, get dispatched to our district. Same area as Jungkook no less...are you trying to replace us?”

“Hey, I didn’t choose the location.” Namjoon shrugs. “Maybe if you guys didn’t suck so bad they wouldn’t have asked me to secure the bags.”

He braces himself as Suga lunges forward, shoving him against the wall, his collar bunched up in clenched fists. Surprisingly strong for a small dude. “You don’t come work for us and talk shit about us to my face.”

Namjoon tugs on his clothes, pulling them out of Suga’s grip. He clears his throat and tries to calm himself. “My bad. Next time I’ll do it behind your back.”

“What are you up to? You took a job on campus, why? Jungkook’s already got that covered.”

“Like I said, I didn’t choose to. I was sent there.” He steps forward, making Suga take a few steps back.

“Liar.”

“Look if you have a problem with it, take it up with the lieutenant.” Namjoon walks off, angering the other guy even more. The nerve of this new kid makes his blood boil. There’s something off about him, there’s no way the bosses would send a new guy in for no reason.

He stomps his way into Kyun’s office, slamming the door behind him. Kyun looks up, sees him, and goes back to his laptop. “What?”

“Don’t you think there’s something wrong with that RM guy?” Suga says, pulling up a chair.

“No. Why?”

“He’s so full of himself.”

“Name one person working here that isn’t,” Kyun says, “besides, you should be thankful I assigned him to you. Jungkook’s been slacking.”

“I told you, the school’s keeping an eye on him. He’s taking it slow.”

Suga can’t remember how many times he’s used that excuse. He can’t come right out and admit that Jungkook has in fact been slacking. Or rather, distracted. Not to mention the time Jungkook considered leaving all of this behind. It’s no surprise the lieutenant’s picked up on it.

“Whatever.” Kyun mutters, obviously tired of having this conversation.

“Wait,” the wheels in Suga’s head turn and he looks curiously at his lieutenant, “you’re not doubting Jungkook are you? Did you send RM in to replace him?”

“If Jungkook’s doing a good job like you seem to think he is, why would you be worried about this?”

Suga purses his lips, “He’s fine. He hasn’t missed any of his shifts. I couldn’t have gotten shit done at the club without him.”

“Numbers are still low though.”

“That’s because you’ve got the new kid stealing all his buyers.”

“RM’s good and the staff there seem to trust him. He stays.”

“Fine. Then get off Jungkook’s back about his numbers. He can’t sell drugs the same as before if you have another dealer there competing with him.”

Kyun thinks about it for a minute, then nods. “Alright fine. Anyway, it’s good that you’re here now. I can run through what boss wants you to get up and running at the club.”

It hits Suga that Kyun having doubts about Jungkook is bad news, at least, if word travels up the hierarchy. While Jungkook had promised to keep up, Suga intends to make sure he actually does. He can’t afford anymore slip-ups. Or distractions, in the form of you. He can’t let anything happen to Jungkook.

𝄖𝄖

Sneaking back into the house at such an ungodly hour, you guide Jungkook in the dark, careful not to make a sound.

Back in your room, his jacket and shirt are the first to go. He lifts you up and carries you to the bed, lips not parting from each other.

Slipping under your shirt, he unhooks your bra and pulls your shirt with it over your head. Lips smiling on yours, his hands knead your breasts and you feel your nerves reacting. He trails wet kisses down your front, fingers undoing your jeans and pulling them off in a single swoop.

He removes his own pair of jeans, leaving him in his boxers. Then, kneeling by your legs, he gently peels your panties off, taking in the view of your naked body, lighted up by the warm yellow of your nightlight. If he could, he’d engrave this image of you in his head.

His eyes wide and lustful, they trail over you. “You’re so beautiful.” He whispers.

Hovering above you, he strokes the side of your face, before pressing his body to yours in a soft gentle kiss. He moves so gently, like you could break at any moment. When your hands wrap around his neck, he grabs hold of your wrists, pinning them above your head. You let out a soft whimper.

Jungkook takes his time, showering your skin with kisses. Starting from your neck down to your navel. He licks one side of your breast, teasingly drawing circles with his tongue along the nipple, then gives the same attention to the other. Your breathing gets hitched in your throat, feeling the blood rush down south.

He brings his mouth lower, hands now occupying your breasts where his mouth was. It sends you butterflies the way his hot breath brushes against your skin. There’s something different about the way he’s touching you tonight.

He spares some kisses down your inner thighs and watches the way goosebumps appear as they try to clam up reflexively.

Hands on your thighs, he pushes them apart and runs a teasing lick over your folds. Then his tongue finds its way to your clit, flicking it gently before his lips wrap around it and he starts gently sucking. You jolt and take in a sharp breath grabbing a fishful of the sheets.

His fingers delicately touch your folds, running a teasing finger over your entrance. Looking up from between your thighs, he watches the way you steady your breaths, eyes closed, brows furrowed.

It doesn’t last long and when you open your eyes, he’s hovering over you, licking his lips. Very eagerly you pull down the hem of his boxers, exposing his hard cock. His own fingers wrap around it, stroking himself gently as he reaches for a bottle of lube. He stares at you with a look you can’t read.

“Something on your mind?” You voice out.

He shakes his head with a gentle smile and takes his position between your legs, your thighs over his. Aligning himself with your entrance, he grips your ankles on either side. Slowly, he enters and you will yourself not to make a sound at the initial stretch.

Jungkook keeps a steady pace, watching intently the way he moves in and out of you. You can’t help but to stare at him and the way his abs clench every time he moves his hips into you. The flexing of his arms every now and then, keeping your legs steady. And the way the warm light casts shadows dancing over his body as he moves.

“Jungkook.” You call out for him, so softly.

He releases your ankles and leans forward, resting his body on yours. Pressing his forehead to you, he admires the look of lust in your eyes and the way you’re biting your bottom lip. “Yes, my love?”

Your fingers run over his face. You’re too occupied with the pleasure of him inside you that your brain refuses to put your thoughts into words. He chuckles when you only manage a breathy smile instead.

Your wrists get pinned over your head once again, and he watches you from above. Every thrust is deep and filling, his hips moving expertly to give you just the right amount of pleasure, leaving you a hot mess beneath him.

You look absolutely breathtaking to him; the parting of your lips, eyes shut and shaky breaths. Your breasts bounce with every thrust and your chest rises and falls with every breath you take. He lets out a low guttural sound and presses his body to yours, devouring your lips in a passionate kiss.

His hips pick up speed, grinding into you with calculated moves. You get lost in each other, a mixture of your quick breaths filling the room. The look in his eyes is mirrored in yours, waves of emotions flowing between both your bodies and soul.

Jungkook can’t describe his feelings for you. It’s something he hasn’t felt in a long time; warmth, love, trust, acceptance. All he knows is to tell you he loves you and hopes you get it.

Your eyes get misty as you let your own emotions get to you, feeling the twinge in your chest when you look at him.

Arms wrapping around his waist, your tongues dance between your lips. He knows all the right spots to leave you breathless. You feel it building in the pit of your stomach, and pull away from the kiss, no longer in control of your actions.

Jungkook feels it too, sensing the pressure between your hips as they wrap tightly around him. He steadies himself and gives you long, deep strokes, as he watches your breaths get quicker. The euphoric look on your face earns a grunt of approval from him.

Not wanting to hold back any longer, his hips grind into yours at a quicker pace, feeling himself reaching his release. His mouth latches on to your nipple, sucking it for a second before he hears small whines leaving you, signalling you’re close.

Willing yourself to keep your eyes open, you place a hand on the side of his face, making sure his eyes stay on yours. It gets blurrier with the way tears start to fill your eyes. “I love you.” You blurt out in a whisper and he rests his forehead on yours as he thrusts hard, one which makes your insides squirm.

Jungkook’s breath hitches in his throat as he watches you. A single tear rolls down the side of your face as you start to reach your high. “I love you Y/N.” He breathes out against your lips before capturing you in a kiss. With one hard thrust, you find yourself succumbing to the pressure in your middle, unravelling a wave of pleasure that courses through your entire body, chest rising towards him and hands keeping him close.

Watching you, he reaches his own climax, hips bucking wildly into yours, and you feel his warm release spilling inside you, his moans lost in the kiss. It takes a while before his hips slow down into a gentle rhythm. Your body goes limp as you ride it out, drained of energy.

He catches his breath with his head on yours and when you finally catch each other’s eyes, you share a giggle. He shines in his afterglow, a look of pure bliss on his face. But he could say the same for you, thumb running over your cheek to wipe off the tear stains.

In that moment, it feels as if you’re staring right into his soul. He stares back at you, as if trying to say something more than what’s been said, worrying once again about conveying what’s in his heart. But you just smile back.

“I know, Jungkook. I know. I love you too.”

#jungkook fics #networkbangtan #kwritersworldnet #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #rainworks #my #hope you like it :(

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klbwriting · 3 years

Text

Unexpected Allies - Chapter 10

Fandom: Six of Crows

Pairing: Kaz/female!Reader

Summary: Kaz finally gets some revenge

Warnings: mentions of torture and some nudity, but no smut

Notes: ok, so I didn’t write out a torture scene, I just left it to the imagination because I cannot do justice to the type of havoc Kaz would reek on Rollins. Also, there is some nudity in this but no smut, I do have the reader cleaning Kaz though and I tried hard to make sure it sounded and felt right with where their relationship is at so don’t expect anything sexy in this chapter at all

Y/N had left Kaz’s tent a little after 10 bells. She started walking around asking about Rollins and where he would be, making sure she talked some shit about the Dregs in the process. She wanted this to seem completely her thing. This led her to the back of the drinking tent where he was relieving himself. She waited; her face crinkled in disgust. She couldn’t believe she was going to let him touch her. She understood just a sliver of how Kaz must feel when anyone touches him at that moment. It wasn’t nearly the same, but she was sure that he must have felt nasuas all the time, she would have to tell him that he really could take his time with touching her if this was how it was. Finally, Rollins turned around the saw her watching him.

“So, ditching the Dregs little lady?” he asked, walking over. He smelled like he took a bath in kvas and it made her hold her breath as she smiled at him.

“They didn’t appreciate what I did so I ditched the Dregs, they’re no fun. I heard you were fun, thought maybe you’d want to see a little place I have out of the camp,” she offered, looking up at him from hooded lids. He smiled like he won a prize and threw a bulky arm around her shoulders, letting her lead him.

As they walked, he whispered in her ear, kissed her head, and smelled her hair. It took everything in her to not vomit and when the hut came into sight, she quickened her step. By that time Rollins had worked himself into an excited frenzy and threw open the cabin door and pushed her in, slamming the door. Rollins hauled off and punched her in the face as soon as the door shut, knocking her to the ground. For a moment she was terrified, thinking that Kaz hadn’t come, and that Rollins was going to try and kill her, then a crack rang out and Rollins fell to the ground and Kaz was standing there, cane aloft again in case the first hit hadn’t subdued him.

Kaz looked at Y/N, seeing her face cut from the hit Rollins had given her and he knelt down next to her. He reached out, hand settling on her shoulder gently, squeezing. He held it there until she told him she was ok and then he snapped it back. Progress, slow progress.

Once he knew she was alright he turned his attention back to Rollins. He was moving to get him tied to the table but before he could muster up the courage to actually move him Y/N was up and moving. She put him on the table and tied his hands and feet. Kaz looked at her and nodded. Then he looked at the door. He knew that she would stay and watch all of this with him, but this was private, something just for him and Rollins. If he was completely honest with himself, he would admit that he also wanted her to not him like this, Dirtyhands out and on display. He didn’t want her to see how much of a monster he was inside, that part was going to be kept away from her.

“Kaz, I’ll stay if you want,” she said. Kaz shook his head.

“No, please, I don’t want you to see this. This is between me, Rollins, and the ghost of my brother,” he said. She nodded.

“There’s a stream nearby, it may be freezing but I’ll be there cleaning up,” she said. Kaz nodded and made sure she was gone before he started, bringing forth all of the things that he had been planning since he was 9 years old. Rollins had a debt to pay and Kaz Brekker was going to cash him in.

Y/N had stripped completely and slid into the water. It was just around waist high and felt like she was going to freeze to death, but she needed to scrub every inch of her body and get the feeling on his hands off of her. She could hear screams coming from where the hut was and the devil that lived in her heart smiled. Good, let the scumbag suffer for what he had done to Kaz. Y/N had pieced together an idea of what had happened. She was guessing that Kaz had an older brother at one time and that when they were young Rollins had killed him in some manner, something that made Kaz how he was, had almost broken him in his mind. Y/N could never think of Kaz as broken, but she knew that’s what he thought of himself. He didn’t have to speak for her to know most of his thoughts, their understanding of each other ran deep and was one of the things that she loved about him. They could speak without words and it was amazing.

A sound broke her from her thoughts, and she looked up to see Kaz standing on shore, covered in blood. He started stripping quick, climbing into the water himself and scrubbing. He was tense, almost an animalistic frenzy to his movements as he tried to rinse himself off. Y/N walked over and almost touched him but stopped.

“Kaz,” she said, her voice once again seeming to break through to him. He looked at her, eyes still maniacal, a crazed smile on his face. His hands hadn’t stopped scrubbing his chest and it was starting to get red.

“I did it, I made him suffer like he made Jordie suffer,” he said, the smile getting bigger. Y/N nodded and smiled back at him. “I…why does it hurt.” He looked down seeing that he had scrubbed so hard that he was bleeding.

“I can help you, but I’m going to have to touch you,” she said. He looked at her and for a moment she thought he was going to tell her to leave him but then he slumped a little and nodded. He was exhausted and the adrenaline of the kill was leaving his body. She picked up her coat and ripped some off the bottom and dipped it in the water and as gently as could she wiped it over his chest, getting the last bits of blood off.

“I don’t think I’ve ever really seen a woman naked before,” Kaz said suddenly. She laughed and looked at him. “I should be closing my eyes, shouldn’t I?” She rolled her eyes at him.

“O please, once you hatch a torture and murder plot together seeing each other naked it the next logical step,” she said. “Can I clean your face too? Or is that too much?”

“Start and I’ll let you know,” he said, standing still. She gently wiped his face and he breathed deeply to keep himself calm. He felt a little off with her touch on his bare cheeks, but he wasn’t sick from it, in time the off feeling might even go away. After a few minutes he waved a hand and she stopped, tossing the rag aside. She took a step back and they both just stared at each other, taking in each other’s forms. Kaz slowly studied her stomach and found that he liked the roundness of it, leading to large hips that he wanted so badly to wrapped around him. That thought made him start seeing bodies again so he pushed it away for another day. He let his eyes move up past her breasts and to her face, arguably the part he liked best about her. Her face was round and just so full of life and light, something he wished that he had sometimes.

“You have to be the most gorgeous man I have ever seen,” Y/N said after a time, meeting his eyes again. He felt himself blush a little as they moved to the shore to dress again. The headed back to the hut where she lit Rollins on fire and let his body burn. They watched together for a few minutes before going back to his tent and climbing into bed.

“You know most ladies would talk their man out of killing someone,” Kaz said, looking at her. He noticed how she always left her hand outstretched to him and tonight he squeezed her hand once before pulling away. “You have a heart of steel love, bulletproof.” Y/N laughed.

“If my heart is bulletproof then you have a hollowpoint smile, shot right through my heart in seconds,” she said, staring at him. She sat in thought for a minute, and he laughed.

“Something on your mind?” he asked. She nodded.

“More of your song just came to me,” she said. He sat up on his elbow and looked at her confused. She was writing a song for him? He never thought he would be the type that people wrote songs about and he was flattered.

“Can…can I hear it?” he asked. She shook her head. “Why not?”

“It’s not finished; I won’t let you hear it until its done. When it is, you’ll be the first person I find,” she said, yawning near the end. She closed her eyes, and he watched her drift off to sleep. Kaz had to admit that tonight she had earned her blood-soaked crown and in his mind no one else would ever take it from her. She was his queen now.

#six of crows #kaz brekker x reader #kaz x reader #kazbrekker #kaz #kaz brekker #unexpected allies series

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theyrejustboys · 3 years

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AO3 Year in Review! Inspired by @dathen, format by @athina-blaine.

Top Fandom: The Magnus Archives (10 fics)

Date of First Fic Posted: May 17th (Not Tonight, 1,620 words)

Top Multi-Chapter Fic: Drawn to that Sort of Library Magic (51,369 words)

Top One-Shot: You Can Reach for Me (3,420 words)

Fic You’re Most Proud Of: Drawn to that Sort of Library Magic again! It was my first serious attempt at a long-term writing project since before college, and it was incredibly healing for me both creatively and personally. I’m not sure whether I’m prouder of the story itself or of actually finishing it!

Fic You Wish Got More Attention: Worst Patient (1,335 words). It was my first time writing JonGerryMartin and my first sickfic, and I had a lot of fun with it! Even though I wrote it for H/C Week, I still feel like it’s one of the most lighthearted stories I’ve ever written.

Fic that Challenged You the Most: Similes (1,981 words). This was my other H/C Week fic! I wrote the first half in one frenzied sitting and then spent weeks trying to decide how to continue and end it. I think I rewrote and scrapped the ending three times before I finally realized what I wanted to do with it the night before the day of the prompt I’d chosen.

Favorite Quote/Passage: From Things That Make it Warm (10,894 words):

“You made them. For me.”

“I did,” Martin says slowly.

“Because I can’t wear gloves.”

“That… yeah, that was my thought process, Jon.”

Jon pulls his shoulders in, but in the shy way Martin has come to recognize and not in the grouchy, defensive way he might once have assumed it to be. Very carefully, he tucks the packets into the deep pockets of his thick cardigan. He keeps his hands there, buried in what Martin hopes is becoming a little haven of warmth. “Thank you,” he says again. And then, taking on a brave and resolute expression, he rises on his tiptoes to kiss Martin’s jawline.

Total Words Posted: 92,447

I am so proud of the stories I’ve told this year and so grateful for The Magnus Archives for the role it played in reigniting my creative drive! I am also very grateful to the Magnus Writers discord for their supportive community atmosphere. Both the podcast and the community helped me reconnect with a passion I’d lost and have made this year far more bearable than it would have been otherwise. And to everyone who has ever left a kudo or comment or sent me a message here - thank you! I cherish each and every one.

#ao3 year in review

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barryallenis · 3 years

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The Other Side (Westallen fic)

AN: So I may have mentioned this before in passing. But I just posted chapter 4 so I thought maybe I’d actually post it here now! This all stems from my need for westallen to have their psychological torment addressed in season 7 ... and since it know it wont be like this I wrote it myself

SUMMARY: Following her escape from the Mirrorverse, Iris is confronted with a realization that the world she's returned to is not the same. Or perhaps, that she herself if not the same. With the help of her husband Barry, and those she trusts, she works to find a way back to a sense of normalcy. Which may mean facing some of the dark demons she thought she'd left on the other side. ~(S7 hopes) (Chap 2 is iris centric)

It didn't take much to wake Barry Allen these days. In fact, his restlessness the past few weeks hadn't been this bad since he was eleven years old. Back then, it was the image of his mother, reaching out for him as red and yellow lights swirled around her that he knew he would see when he closed his eyes that kept him up. And while the last few years had created countless horrific scenes to relive in nightmares, nothing had fostered the level of unease he now felt surrounding him with every breath.

Now, it wasn't fear of sleep that kept him up, but of everything around him in waking, and of the flashing watch on his wrist that reminded him he didn't have the power to fight them.

A few nights ago specifically, his restlessness couldn't even confine him to his bed. Instead, it drew him into a late night purge. It was well past 2am by the time he returned home to a space full of shattered mirrors. Between the energy used for speed healing and his late night rendezvous several county's over, everything in his body told him to sleep, to rest, to fight this battle tomorrow. But with every step he took deeper into the home he hadn't lived in for a week, so much felt foreign to him.

This is where we ate together. This is where we binged that new crappy reality show on Netflix. This is where we laughed, this is where we kissed, this is where she crumbled to pieces in his arms ...

Every space felt tainted with falsehoods. Moments he thought were something else entirely being rewritten with every glance around the loft.

It wasn't her. All that time it was someone … something else.

But as every place in the apartment felt damaged, each was equally matched with some of the very moments that were driving him forward.

This is where he and Iris held their first Thanksgiving. This is where they played scrabble with their daughter. This is where she fell asleep in the first movie of the Star Wars marathon. This is where she spilt an entire glass of red wine across all 3 rugs. This is where he told her he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Twice. This is where she said yes. Twice. This is where they lived.

Though now, of course, it was only he who lived there.

With his mind more alert than ever, he shoved his tired body into motion. Not with speed, but with determination.

This was going to be their home again. And when it is, it will be theirs and only theirs.

He swept up all the glass shards he could find. He then carried the bagged up remains and all but one of the recently added mirrors down to the curb outside the apartment. He questioned throwing them all away, wondering what Eva could still do to them, with them, in such a close proximity to him. But she was not the only one connected to that mirror. He saw Eva step right through it. From the “world she left behind.” The world Iris was still in.

If there was even the slightest chance that Iris do the same. Or even if it had the unique ability that allowed her to hear him, see him, sense him in any way through it, he would string it across his back to keep it with him at all times if he could.

The 4am frenzy that followed was not planned or calculated. But as simply as Barry had put the piece of their apartment together 3 years ago, he found himself doing it again.

What if he moved the couch under the window? What if he changed the direction of the dinning table? What if he moved this art piece, this vase, this book, this glass, this -

It was nearly daybreak by the time Barry realized there was one room, one big room, he had missed.

As he crept up the stairs he found it harder than he had anticipated to enter the most intimate place in his home.

This was the only bed that had ever been theirs. From the moment it was delivered to the center of their cold cement floor living room to nearly every night since. That was the last place he had been with her. The last place he has seen her, through slits in his eyes as he drifted to sleep. Before she left to follow her lead. Before she got trapped in that place.

Before he knew it, he was stripping the bed clean. First sheet, then comforters, pillows, all haphazardly thrown to the floor. He caught a glimpse of the towels in the bathroom and threw them into the pile as well. Then he began pulling at the bare mattress and bed frame, turning them around in the opposite direction. This resulted in the movement of side tables, dressers, chairs, everything.

Everything needed a new place.

By full fledged morning nearly every moveable piece of furniture in the loft has been adjusted. Bed covering sat shoved into trash bags by the front door, the bed they had once covered still bare and unoccupied. The current sole resident of this loft had instead finally found slumber across the slim window seat that spanned the length of the apartment, the sparsely drawn curtains behind him pulled to hide the now bright morning sun.

While the following night he did get replacements for all his discarded linens, he did not use them for the next several days. Instead, he slept on the just-too-short couch he had just moved from the center of the apartment and tried his hardest not to think of all the nights Iris did the exact same thing when he was in the unknown …

Tonight, however, was different. Tonight he sunk deeply into his mattress as if it were the most comfortable place in the world. And to him, in fact, it was, leading to the soundest sleep he had since his all began.

And that was entirely because he had fallen asleep with his wife safely and tightly enveloped in his arms.

-> CHAPTER 2-4 ON AO3 <-

#the flash #westallen #barry allen #iris west #iris westallen #westallenfic #fics #mywriting #myfic #s7 #i forgot how to share fics on here honestly #and i was apprehensive to do this #idk maybe ill post the other 3 chapters on here separately too #tho theyre all much longer #so idk

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shes-an-oddbird · 3 years

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Christmas at River’s End Mall

Summary - A Christmas AU in which everyone navigates their seasonal jobs, relationships and Christmas spirit, or lack there of, through woven together tales inspired by holiday prompts.

Chapter 8 - Letters to Santa

Summary - Daniel and Daisy discuss what they would ask for if they were to write letters to Santa.

Prompt - Letters to Santa Relationship - Daniel x Daisy (More Dousy!) POV - Daniel

Daniel was good with words and tactful answers. He could come up with kind replies that were reassuring but vague about what kids might get for Christmas. So who better to write replies from Santa?

Maybe the guy with an old typewriter that gives the letters from Santa an authentic look and feel?

But that was still him.

Daniel had quickly been promoted from Elf who didn’t have a clue what was going on, to Elf in charge of answering all of Santa’s mail. It’s not such a bad assignment, Daniel thinks, deciphering the scribbled requests for ponies and play stations. It certainly beats reading half-assed essays from his students. And the company wasn’t bad either. Although it was a solo gig most of the time, every slow moment she had, when the lines had dwindled and the chairs sat empty, Daisy would plop down in the seat next to him, ready to help with her laptop open and a software program that replicated the look of a typewriter.

While she knocked out two or three letters, she would tease him about his lack of Christmas knowledge. His library of holiday music had already received an overhaul. Daisy programmed the radio this time of year for the best mix of old and new and anytime he didn’t recognize one she would give him the title and artist and request a rating in return. He liked the jazzy ones best. And he still hummed along to the classics, but he would admit some of the remakes were good too.

Movies were still on hold.

Though not said in so many words it had been agreed they would watch the ever-growing list of Christmas flicks together. She warned him of her snack hogging and commentary but he assured her that was part of the reason he preferred to watch with others. The only problem was, she simply didn’t have the time.

It often seemed like just as quickly as she would sit down, Daisy would have to jump back up. She kept the kids in line to meet Santa happy, ran around fetching supplies for the craft tables, he had even watched anxiously as she eyed an altercation at a nearby clothing store but before she could react, mall security had arrived.

They’d gotten faster in the last few days.

“How are you holding up?” Daisy asks, not even bothering to sit this time, just leaning against the table he worked at.

Daniel shook his head in disbelief. “You haven’t sat down since you got here and you’re asking me?”

“My coffee is wearing off, if I sit I might not get back up again.” He understands, his students walked around in the same caffeine driven frenzy around finals. Daisy managed to look more put together but he could see the exhaustion in her eyes. “Seriously though, I’ve been on this job before, how many kids asked for cell phones?”

Its like she read his mind. “Fifteen just today and some of them were very specific, not to sound like an old man but I looked up this smart watch and it cost more than my first car.”

She grins back at him, “You’re not wrong, but you definitely sound like a ‘back in my day’ old man.”

“Daisy! We need help!”

Across the North Pole a group of teen volunteers were working on a banner for their parade float, the tallest of them is waving her over.

“I’m coming!” She calls back and quickly turns to him. “Coffee break in a little while?”

“Sure.”

As she goes, she crosses paths with Elena who is making her way towards the table. “The brilliant honor students over there spelled Christmas wrong and are arguing about how to fix it.”

“I’m on it.”

Daniel prepares the small pile of Santa’s Letters that had been written in Spanish and slides them over to her as she takes a seat.

“Does she ever slow down?” Daniel asks, nodding at Daisy’s retreating back.

Elena laughs clearly amused by the suggestion. “This time of year, no, and that’s saying something coming from me.”

“Why do you say this time of year?”

“Daisy already throws her whole self into whatever she’s doing, but in case you haven’t noticed she’s a little loco about Christmas.”

“No kidding.” Her knowledge of all things Christmas was extensive and he joked that she should teach a class on it. She didn't look like a typical Christmas crazy person, with a wardrobe of ugly Christmas sweaters and headbands with reindeer ears. Although she did dutifully wear the elf hat that distinguished the volunteers. She was the first to arrive and the the last to leave and always had a smile on her face when working with guests.

“She met May here,” Elena tells him, “when she was still just a kid at the orphanage and they bonded, I should probably let her tell you but that’s why she so invested in this event and in Christmas.”

That did explain her dedication.

***

Daisy places her coffee down on the table in between them and he is so distracted by the way she has pulled her sweater sleeves down over her hands that he almost misses her question.

“So what would be on your list for Santa?”

“What?”

“Your list?” She asks again, “If you wrote one today, what would be on it?”

He has to take a moment to think about it. He hadn’t asked Santa for anything since he was a little kid and his parents hadn’t asked him what he wanted in at least a decade. He tended to be very practical and, aside from purchasing books he didn’t have time to read, he didn’t have frivolous wants. There were always things to ask for of course but the number one thing would certainly bring down the mood. “Do you want the honest answer or the one that can go under the tree?”

Her smile softens. “Either.”

He laughs quietly. One of the jazzy Christmas songs he enjoys comes on over the radio and it hits him what he’d really like to do. “When I was a kid my parents taught me and my sisters how to dance, like really dance, my mom is an instructor and my dad learned how so he could impress her, used to be a lot of fun.”

Daisy looks back at him in surprise, “I wasn’t expecting that, but also I’m not completely shocked.” Her expression becomes curious, “can’t you? you seem to get around okay but I guess dancing is a little different?”

He shifts his leg, stretching it out under the table. “I haven’t since, I’m guessing I’m a bit clumsier than I used to be, might be tricky to find a partner.”

Daisy rolls her eyes. “Oh yeah, I'm sure it would be a real struggle being all handsome and funny and smart.”

“So what about you?” He asks quickly, to redirect their conversation off of him.

“Sorry?”

“What would you put on your list?” He clarifies.

“Oh,” she leans back in her chair, “I don’t know, everyone usually gives me Christmas ornaments, which I love but I don’t have to ask for them.”

“But from Santa? the magical being who can grant any request, be honest.” He encourages because he really wants to know, even if its not something that you can just stick a bow on.

“Honestly?" She paused and then lets out a little laugh. "I want, like eight more hours in my day.”

“Elena did say you’re always on the go this time of year.”

“I don’t want to miss a second of it.”

“No but are you really enjoying it?” He asks because as busy as she is he can't imagine she has time to actually time to relish in the time of year that means so much to her. She sighs heavily and he watches her shoulders sag slightly in uncertainty. She glances down at the coffee cup that’s probably empty by now.

“Do you still want to see the lights from the roof?” She asks suddenly.

“If you’re not busy.”

“I mean you’re right, the lights are my favorite part of Christmas and I haven’t even been up to see them, I'll just have to make the time, tonight?” He thinks maybe there is a way he can help with that. “Let’s get some refills and get back.”

They step up to the counter and Bobbi grabs the pot of coffee off the machine. “What do you want for Christmas?” Daisy asks and Bobbi rolls her eyes.

“That’s not how secret santa works.”

“No one said I got you.”

“Dais – “

“Seriously, we were just talking about Christmas lists, Bobbi, Elena, Jemma and I do a gift exchange every year.” Daisy explains.

“Unavoidable, we started the year I opened the coffee shop, it was that or everyone was getting coupons.”

“That reminds me, my friend, the one who can get you the part for your espresso machine, he’ll be here tomorrow for the parade, I asked him to come by if you’ve got the time?”

“You’re serious?” Bobbi lights up.

“His name’s Antoine Triplett, should be by around three.”

“Great, I’ll be here.”

***

Daniel spends the rest of the day trying to save Daisy as much time as possible. He finishes up the last of Santa’s letters and proceeds to help her with every mundane task assigned to her. Supply runs, glitter spills, crying kids, anything that can be considered more work than fun, he’s there to lighten the load.

He thinks it startles her a few times, when she goes to collect the broom and he’s already there with it in his hands.

At the end of the day they get everything cleaned up in record time. They’re just pulling on their coats and she’s explaining the back stairs they have to take up to the roof when Daisy’s best friend Jemma comes running up to them.

“Daisy, you’re here still here,” she chokes out, trying to catch her breath.

“What’s wrong?”

“I need your help, I took this huge order, I’m wrapping all of this woman’s Christmas gifts, there are at least a hundred of them.”

“That’s great!” But Jemma’s already shaking her head, still holding a stitch in her side.

“I might have accidently used a bit of paper with some writing on it to wrap one of the gifts.”

“Writing?” Daniel asks.

Jemma's blushes. “I use the scrap paper to write notes to Fitz and when I was cleaning up and I realized one of the notes was gone, I think I used it on one of the smaller gifts.”

“Okay, okay calm down, we can fix this, we’ll just unwrap the gifts and rewrap them.”

This doesn't calm her down. "She’s picking them up tomorrow after the parade, I’ve spent all day on them, she requested very specific papers and I have to be at the lab in less than an hour!”

Daniel watches as the gears turn in Daisy's mind, searching for a solution. She looks from the stairwell, to him and back to Jemma. “Okay, you go to your lab, I’ll get started unwrapping them, find the damn note and just come back when you done and help me finish rewrapping them.”

Jemma looks near tears. She throws her arms around Daisy in a tight hug before backing away. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, look for all the gifts under the name Samuels”

Daisy turns back to him. “I’m sorry, I guess this postpones our plans again.”

“Its okay, do you want some help?”

“You don’t have to.”

“We’ll get it done in half the time with two of us, just until Jemma gets back and she can take over.”

“Alright, um, the parade, its in the morning, were you going to come watch?”

“I was probably just going to watch it on the TV but I can make a change of plans.”

“Its not the same as the lights, but we can watch it from the roof, you can see it go on for miles.”

“Sounds great.”

#dousy #sousy #Daniel Sousa #Daisy Johnson #daisy x sousa #aos #aos fic #christmas at river's end mall #25 days of christmas

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dreamcatcherjiah · 4 years

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🌆 Nodus Tollens (Idol!Jin x YouTuber!reader)

Nodus Tollens Masterlist

Part 12

Plot: n. the realization that the plot of your life doesn’t make sense to you anymore—that although you thought you were following the arc of the story, you keep finding yourself immersed in passages you don’t understand, that don’t even seem to belong in the same genre—which requires you to go back and reread the chapters you had originally skimmed to get to the good parts, only to learn that all along you were supposed to choose your own adventure.

After such a tiring day, you were really wondering if you were stretching yourself past your limits. Helping your parents at the restaurant had always been your priority, and you would rather quit everything else before leaving them busy and without your help. But days like this really made you question your life choices.

Waking up from a restless sleep so early in the morning to shower and go to class wasn’t your particular cup of tea, but regardless of how tired you felt, you powered on and got ready. Needing something to keep you awake for your morning lessons, you groaned aloud when you realised your tea tin was empty. Your mental notes — buy tea, immediately, you don’t want to repeat the disastrous events of May 6th, 2018 — weren’t working either, it seemed. Your little tin mocked you endlessly, staring back at you from your reflection in its shining bottom. Sigh. Lifting your head, you shifted your eyes to the top shelf of the kitchen cabinet, where that forgotten packet of instant coffee had been forgotten for nearly as long as you’d lived in that flat. No, you wouldn’t budge. Not even how tired you were would force you to drink that dark and bitter beverage, not for all the money in the world.

Flash forward to twenty minutes later, and you find yourself in the public bus, with your thermo in hand, filled to the brim with coffee that you obviously hadn’t touched. The universe literally wasn’t in your favour today. Forcing your to drink coffee, the nerve. But it wasn’t so much the coffee, as you looking at your phone to see a text from your mom, asking you to cover for her at lunchtime so she could go to her doctor’s appointment. You were tempted to tell her the truth; that your lessons would finish at half-past two PM, and you were scheduled to meet with Seokjin and Namjoon at three to write the hook of the song you were working on, and two hours later, you had to be back at campus to discuss some aspects of your thesis with your tutor, or else you risked to lag behind and not finish in time. All of this without saying that you obviously needed to finish the cover for Moon that you had promised Jin you would do, and upload another one to your channel taking into account you hadn’t done so in a week.

Looking out of the window at the moving cars and the busy people, you wondered what your mom would say if you said no. Probably that she understood and that your dad would manage on his own. Not likely. So you wrote back and told her you would be there at two, providing that you left your last lesson a bit before it was over. Then you texted both Namjoon and Seokjin to see if it would be possible to pass the meeting to the late evening after your meeting with your professor, hopefully giving you time to at least upload your cover. Or maybe you would just take your laptop and upload said cover in the restaurant and that would give you time to work in Moon for a while after you got home.

You arrived on campus and, after getting the green light from both idols, you set about finishing your day as fast as you could. The clock, however wasn’t agreeing with you. The minutes dragged on, and contrary to your normal behaviour, you found yourself nodding off and not focusing in what your professors were saying at all. Your mind kept going back and forth, going over all the things you had to do, fighting sleep because, let’s face it, you hadn’t touched that damned brew and were in the middle of a mental rant, berating yourself for such a petty and stupid behaviour. Caffeine was caffeine, whatever form it came, and right about now you needed it as you needed oxygen. One of those times you nodded off was a bit longer and deeper than the previous times; you were aware that you were in the middle of a lesson, but your clouded mind travelled far, far away, to a reality your mind recognised but you didn’t.

You were in some park, in front of a large, bright lake. The vision of the water kept glitching in front of your eyes and you tried to blink it away, to no avail. There were many voices surrounding you, joining together to create a cacophony you couldn’t decipher. Light was brightly blinding you and you were just in some sort of limbo, being there and not there at the same time. The shadows of the people whose voices you were hearing kept coming in and out of your vision, like some rewinding VHS movie, confusing you beyond measure but still giving you a sense of nostalgia you couldn’t place. What a strange dream you were having! One of the voices kept coming closer and closer; you could also see their body getting close to yours in their reflection in the lake, and you felt at peace. The deep tones of this person’s sentence were reaching you clearer the closer they got, and you managed to hear some of those words through the calming haze that was your dream. “This was the perfect location, Y/N. The kids are definitely enjoying themselves!” Kids? — you thought, at the same time love filled your every pore.

“Miss Y/N? I would appreciate it if you kept your eyes open during this lecture,” came the voice of the lecturer, and it effectively took you out of your mind. Your cheeks reddening at being caught and being the centre of attention, you nodded your head, keeping your eyes forcibly open for the next hour and a half.

The turn at the restaurant was everything but eventful. The typical kid throwing juice all over the table, insisting that he could feed himself, when his little arms didn’t even reach past the fork. This normally would have made you sigh in frustration, but something made you look at him smiling and wave your hand at his apologising parents, not frustrated at all. Your video was also coming along nicely, a bit slower than you would have liked but by the looks of it, it would be done by the time you had to leave for your appointment at campus.

After swallowing down a bit of apple pie your mom made, you tidied the tables and helped your dad with the last orders before you picked up your things and went running back to university. Thank the universe this wasn’t the same teacher who had caught you that morning sleeping, because that would have been an awkward conversation to have. Your phone vibrated in your pocket half through the discussion with your tutor, but you opted to ignore it. You would have time later to check it and give the appropriate answer. Not wanting to be rude, you focused all your attention in what your professor was saying and noting down all the reference books he was listing for you to make your research a bit more exhaustive. How much more exhaustive can it get, for the love of pizza? — you thought. Apparently, quite. You left his office with your notebook filled with names and dates, and many more books than you could carry, on your way to your appointment at BigHit.

It was only 4 PM and you were feeling like your day would never finish. The buses were packed today, and traffic near Gangnam was a nightmare. You had plenty of time before you had to be up in Rkyve studio to do some songwriting, but still, you worried. Out of the three of you, eight if you extended it to the rest of BTS, you were the less busy one; their schedules were a nightmare to work with — Seokjin’s words, not yours — and most of the time they just squeezed you in between practise and some photoshoot or another. So it was completely understandable for you to worry that you were making it even more difficult for them.

Once you walked all the way to the BigHit building, you were just dragging your feet, tired beyond measure and wanting desperately a place to sit down. You entered the building and entered the code Manager Sejin had given you for when you needed to enter BigHit without one of the members or a manager at least. You waited patiently for the elevator to arrive all the way to the first floor and got it, expecting it to be packed and finding it empty. At least something today was going your way, you had the whole ride to yourself. You smirked and thought how ironic it was; if you didn’t count your dad and your professor, you could count on the fingers of one hand how many more people had interacted with you today.

A sudden sickening feeling got ahold of you, and you stumbled forward, holding onto the railing to keep yourself upright. Your vision blurred again, and you tiredly thought how this was the second time in a day where you lost control of your own body.

You were inside the same elevator, or a very similar one and a happy feeling enveloped you, while you looked down. At your feet, holding your leg, was a little child, jumping up and down, making you somewhat unstable on your feet.

“Calm down, love,” your voice said, but you didn’t remember opening your mouth, “you’ll work yourself into a frenzy and will be tired tonight!”

“Faster! Faster!” Shouted the child, “I wanna see daddy, come on elevator!”

Taking a deep breath you realised the doors of the elevator were opening onto the floor where the reception desk was situated. Shaking your head, you tried to calm your heart, erratic after such a daydream, and moved forward, filing that information for a later inspection.

Approaching the desk, you nodded towards the man and the woman you had come to familiarise yourself over the weeks. And just when you were about to turn the corner into the studios, they called you over.

“Miss Y/N, did you not receive the texts Mr. Namjoon sent you?” Asked the woman.

Frowning, you buried your hand in your bag and fished out your phone, which you hadn’t checked since earlier on in the day. And there it was the text they were referring to.

So this was how your day had been. After apologising to the receptionists, you had descended again and called a taxi to take you home. You had finished the cover and sent it to Jin, closed all the blinds and laid in your bed, hoping sleep to claim you even though it was still early. Hoping for calmer, and less weird days to come for you, you closed your eyes and finally relaxed.

A/N: Surprise surprise!! With all the schoolwork I've been buried under, it's a miracle I was able to post this today!! but here you have it!! What do you guys think? Let's chat♥️♥️♥️

Send me an ask if you want to be added to the tag list 🥺

@zxlla @mabel-k3 @twiwwo @crystxljinie @atulipandarose @rjsmochii @expensive-grl @itsjynop @agustdez @salty-for-suga @io-is-lame @hot-tae-with-suga @minluvly

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bellemorte180 · 4 years

Text

Just Good Business: Chapter Two

Caroline Salvatore, married into one of New York's most brutal crime families.

Niklaus Mikaelson, a notorious mob boss who is hell bent on taking down the Slavatores.

It's an affair for the ages.

WARNING: Incidents of domestic abuse are shown in this chapter.

Chapter Two:

Six Months Later

At first, Caroline intended her tryst with Klaus to be a one off. It wasn’t. Within the months that followed, it became a habit. It started slow. It was over two weeks before Caroline learned anything of use for Klaus. She overheard a conversation between Damon and Stefan. They would be receiving a shipment of drugs coming down at the docks. Logan Fell, one of Damon’s henchmen was to receive them. Caroline told Enzo to set a meet. He drove an expensive French boutique that she often frequented, dropped her off and a few minutes later, she walked back out, getting into a different car.

Logan Fell’s throat was slit and the drugs stolen; causing a massive financial loss for both Damon and Stefan.

Damon and Stefan would, in return, strike back but Klaus was harder to reach. There were a few petty things here and there that Klaus would allow to happen, giving Stefan and Damon the feeling of power, but nothing major. Klaus had an iron wall built around him mixed with layers of corruption that it was difficult or anyone to get past. It had taken the brothers nearly a year to plan Kol’s death; then it had taken Jeremy close to another year to scope out Kol’s patterns and movements in order to take him down. Klaus was far more careful than his reckless younger brother was. Now, he had Caroline who was able to tell Klaus everything she knew. What surprised Caroline was how much she actually did know. She saw everything and because both Stefan and Damon wrote her off as useless, they said far too much in her presence.

And thus, began their pattern. They would meet whenever Caroline had something to report. Not always, but most times their meetings would end up in sex. Eventually, their relationship developed into a full-blown affair. There where time that Caroline went to him, without anything to report but for the sole purpose of feeling him between her legs. She would leave right after. Until she didn’t. Slowly, she started lingering behind or Klaus asked her to stay longer. They started talking as her head rested on his chest and he played with her hair.

He spoke of his childhood and how he got to this point in his life. He spoke of his father and how he learned he was the product of his mother’s affair; something that still ate at him to this day. He described how he took his own father’s life and how that was his first kill. He told her about Kol’s death, sending Rebekah out of state, leaving only Elijah and Klaus behind.

She told him about how happy she was before her marriage. She told him how her father left them when she was young and died when she was a teenager. She spoke of her teenage rebellion, college and the devastation she felt when her own mother sold her to Stefan.

Soon, it wasn’t just about the sex or information. It became more.

The difficult part was hiding her secret. Sometimes, Stefan was a bit too curious at his wife’s activities while other times, he all but sent her away. Enzo always arranged the meetings. They never took the same car, met at the same place and Klaus bought her a secondary phone-that all her calls from her Stefan approved phone would be forwarded to. If either Stefan or Damon felt the need to ever track her, her phone would always ping at the location she claimed to be at.

They took stalk pictures; just in case Stefan would request proof of Caroline’s whereabouts. Enzo and Klaus thought of everything. Caroline knew that neither Stefan nor Damon suspected that it was Caroline feeding information to Klaus; because they did not think she was capable of much at all. However, they knew that Klaus always seemed to be one step ahead of them at every turn. Neither suspected that there was a mole in their organization, let alone their homes but then again Damon did not suspect what was happening under his very nose.

“They are sleeping together; they have to be.” Caroline replied, leaning against Klaus’s chest. They were lounging in the massive bathtub in his penthouse; bubbles floating around them. Tonight, was one of her friend’s birthday and Caroline was supposedly out at the clubs, having a good time. She went, took photos and left before the third shot of tequila. “I just can’t prove it.”

“That is a problem.” Klaus replied, teeth nipping at her ear; causing her to whimper. His fingers drew circles on her skin under the water. He was stated and relaxed; holding her close. Caroline learned that Klaus, despite the fact that he was possibly the cruelest man she had ever met, liked to cuddle. He enjoyed those moments after sex that were calm and peaceful. Caroline wondered if he had been like that with his other lovers, or if it was just her. She was not sure if she wanted the answer. “I could have Enzo plant something. Camera perhaps?”

“To risky. If he starts snooping around, Stefan and Damon may the wrong idea and think I’m having an affair with him.” Klaus’s chest rumbled from behind her, he reached over the tub to the small stand that was holding their glasses of wine. The friendship that blossomed between Caroline and Enzo was an odd one. Klaus often joked that the man’s loyalty shifted from Klaus to her; but that as long as she stayed safe, it did not bother him. Not only that, but Enzo was fiercely loyal to his girlfriend Bonnie and Klaus knew that. He wouldn’t being doing this job if that was not the case.

“Why are you so certain that Stefan and Elena are fucking, love?” Klaus asked, bringing the glass of red wine to his lips. “You know Stefan is in love with her. It could be one sided. Perhaps Elena is the perfect little faithful wife to Damon.”

“They just are. I can tell.” Her tone held a hint of relief to it that Klaus could not pin point. It wasn’t sadness or fear but something else. She noticed something, a shift in her home and it concerned Klaus. Anything that could possibly endanger Caroline concerned him.

“Caroline? What is it?” She turned in the tub to face him. He narrowed his eyes at her. Caroline did not keep much from Klaus but when she did, it typically had to do with her marriage with Stefan. Klaus did not take kindly to the fact that she still had to play the pretty little wife for the man; especially when it came to their sex life.

“Stefan has been less demanding…...in his visits with me.” Caroline looked at him, his face unreadable. His body stilled but the grip on her hips tightened. She leaned in and kissed him gently, hoping to ease the anger that was radiating off of him. “It has been over two weeks since he wanted anything from me.”

“I don’t like it that he fucks you at all.” The words came out as a hiss. His teeth her clenched together and his jaw locked. His eyes were ablaze with fury. He sat up straighter, bringing Caroline’s lips to his for a possessive kiss. She melted into him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. The kissed for a few moments before he broke away from her. “You’re mine.”

“I’m yours. You know that.” Caroline whispered. “But he is my husband and he will be until all this is over. If I try and refuse him. It would be far worse for me in the end.” They knew it was true. In the early days of her marriage, Caroline learned that lesson the hard way. Klaus knew the stories and it was enough to send him into a frenzy; but he refrained from doing anything rash. They worked too hard to get this far just to throw in the towel now. Killing Stefan would only create more problems. The needed Damon to turn on Stefan.

If only they could find proof of Elena and Stefan’s infidelity…

“I’ll arrange something. A way for me to have eyes and ears in the house.”

“Are Enzo and I not enough for you?”

“You are more than enough. Enzo is disposable.” Klaus joked but it was half-hearted; his mood still black from Caroline’s reminder that she still had to on occasion sleep with her husband. Caroline threw him a small glare at the mention of Enzo. She knew he didn’t mean it, especially since he was still ensuring that Enzo’s girlfriend got the care she needed. “I need something tangible. Recordable. I’ll have to figure something out.”

“Niklaus.” There was a knock at the door. Klaus cursed while Caroline reached for her glass of wine. Caroline climbed off of him and leaned back down into the water; resting against the side of the bathtub. She covered herself with bubbles.

“Come in Elijah.”

Caroline had met Elijah on multiple occasions. At first, the older brother was skeptical of Klaus’s ongoing affair with the young woman. However, Caroline proved herself useful and when he realized that once Klaus was able to dispose of the Salvatore brothers, Caroline would not be going anywhere, he changed his tune and welcomed her with open arms; or at least, as open Elijah knew how to be.

Elijah Mikaelson was scary, intimidating and powerful. He had a high-ranking position in the FBI and had one to many friends in high places. More than once, Elijah came in the cover up some of Klaus’s more impulsive schemes. He was constantly picking up after Kol, when he was alive, who would start a turf war over the smallest of things. If it was not for the lawyers Damon and Stefan employed, she was sure that Elijah would have had them thrown in some federal prison by now on some trumped-up charge.

“Mrs. Salvatore, I did not realize you were joining my brother this evening.” Elijah replied, completely undisturbed that he interrupted what most would consider an embarrassing moment. Instead of turning away, he just leaned against the sink on the other side of the bathroom.

“Elijah, always a pleasure.”

“What do you want Elijah?” Klaus bit out. His mood had soured completely from his happiness earlier. He always enjoyed his moments with Caroline and the fact that they had too sneak around was getting to him. More than once, he thought about having Caroline brought to him, protecting her and hiring her the best divorce lawyer; but that would not solve his need for see the Salvatore brother’s dead. It would only provoke them. Children did not take kind to others stealing their toys.

“I had the most interesting case come across my desk today.” Elijah pulled out his phone from his suit pocket. He showed Klaus a picture of a young woman covered in blood and her head separated completely from her body. “Her name is Meredith Fell. Cousin to Logan Fell, that fellow whose throat you had slit a few months back. She did some interesting work for Stefan and Damon at one time.”

“What about her?” Klaus asked but Caroline grabbed the phone at the mention of the name Fell. She knew that name and knew the connection they had to her husband. The photo was gruesome and reminded her of the photos Klaus had shown her of her mother. “Caroline?”

“This is Stefan. This is his work.” The murder was identical to her mothers. She knew his signature anywhere. It wasn’t that he decapitated his victims but more or less that he enjoyed putting them back together. “Why is it on your desk?”

“Valid question. Why are you looking into this Elijah? A single murder is a bit below your paygrade.” Klaus narrowed his eyes in confusion. The murders that Stefan committed were typically handled by the NYPD and since they bought a new commissioner, it was swept under the rug.

“Because this murder did not occur in New York, but in New Jersey. It crossed state lines and the fact that it bore similar markings to a cold case from six months ago in New York, it became federal jurisdiction. Your mother’s murder.” Elijah linked eyes with Caroline and she felt the emotion well up in her throat. She had accepted that Stefan would not go down for her mother’s death but hearing that there was a small chance almost made her want to cry.

Klaus stood from the bathtub, not caring that he was naked in front of his brother or the fact that water was dripping all over the tile flooring. Elijah scolded his brother and handed him a towel, which Klaus quickly wrapped around his waist. The look on Klaus’s face could only be described as manic glee. This was unexpected but a happy turn.

“Elijah I could kiss you.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.” Elijah replied. “I subpoenaed all the documents from the Elizabeth Forbes murder as well as a few others. I picked up the documents this evening before coming here. It may be a few days but I should have enough evidence to open a formal investigation against him.”

“And if you don’t?” Caroline asked.

“I’ll make enough evidence.” Elijah replied in a tone that was hard. Caroline forgot for a second that this was personal for him as it was for her. Kol was Elijah’s brother too. Klaus could strike, often, hard and fast. Elijah, while not above planting evidence, lying under oath and arranging the occasional accidental death, still had some boundaries that he was forced to operate under. “One way or another, he’ll go down for this.”

“One way or another?”

“Either through the courts or publicly. What I have in store for Stefan and Damon Salvatore is something they will never recover from.”

“Well, this night keeps getting better and better.” Klaus replied. He took another sip of his wine, this time wearing a very pleased smirk. He leaned down and kissed Caroline on the lips. She did not care that she was naked nor that Elijah was standing right there. The idea of Stefan being thrown in a jail cell, even if it would be temporary made her very happy. “Although, I do think we shouldn’t put all our eggs in that basket. Caroline, tell my brother where dear Damon is tonight.”

“He is meeting with Mayor Lockwood later on.” Elijah cocked his head at her and waited for her to continue. “At her house, late on a Friday night.” She could see Elijah’s wheels turning in his head. Carol Lockwood was old enough to be Damon’s mother and while it would not be unheard up, Damon was not one to bed a woman that much older than himself. He was also very faithful to Elena. Probably the only redeeming quality about him. “Now Elijah, get your mind out of the gutter. Damon is expecting a shipment next month. Twelve men are coming in, by ship, from Italy. I don’t know what cargo they are bringing but it’s very important that Mayor Lockwood…looks the other way.”

“Interesting. Very interesting.” Elijah shot a look to Klaus, who had picked up Caroline’s phone and scrolling through it. “I thought you had an understanding with the Mayor?”

“I do.” Klaus replied in an almost bored tone. “It appears her and I will have to have a conversation, and soon.” He turned to Caroline. “Your husband is asking when you plan on being home. I told him that you and that red headed friend of yours were enjoying a pitcher of margaritas. I sent him this picture.” Klaus strolled over to her and showed her a photo that was taken earlier in the night. It was her and Aurora having drinks at the club they had been at earlier; and one she was certain Aurora was still at. “He says not to drink to much and to take your time. Seems like someone is up to something.”

“Well, it looks like you just bought me a few more hours.” Caroline smiled. She reached for his hand and kissed it. Klaus turned to his brother and made a motion that told Elijah he needed to bugger off. Caroline giggled. “I think Klaus is trying to say that you’ve over stayed your welcome. Thank you for the update. We’ll be in touch.”

“Yes, brother. What she said.”

“Very well. Have a pleasant evening. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Elijah shut the bathroom door behind in time to hear the splashing of water and Caroline’s high-pitched laughter. Despite the method of his brother’s relationship with the married woman, Elijah couldn’t help but have a budding respect for Caroline.

It wasn’t until wee hours of the morning that Caroline walked through the front door of the mansion. She had always found it strange that Stefan wanted a home in the middle of upper-class suburbia. It was in a gated community and Caroline hated everything about it. It felt suffocating and fake. The lights were all off, not that she was expecting anything else. Stefan wasn’t expecting her home, believing that she was out with the so-called best friend and as long as she had Enzo and wasn’t making a scene, he allowed for such diversions from time to time. It was to show the world that he was not a controlling husband but one who allowed his wife the social life she had before marriage.

Caroline made her way up the stairs to the master suite quietly, hoping not to wake Stefan, but as she got closer, she could see the light under the door was on. There was a sound coming from inside and it was a woman’s voice. She was moaning and whimpering. There was the slight sound of the bed creaking and hitting the wall. Once she reached the door, she grabbed the handle and turned, pushing the door open.

Inside was the scene she expected the moment she heard those noises. Stefan’s back was to her, his hips thrusting forward. Elena was on her back, legs spread and her body arching into Stefan’s. Her eyes were closed and head tilted in a way that gave Stefan access to her neck. Elena cried out a just as she did, her eyes opened.

“Caroline!?” Caroline jumped back the moment Stefan flew from the bed. On instinct, Caroline did the one thing that her gut was telling her to do.

Fucking Run.

She dropped her silver heels, her purse and bolted down the hallway. However, in her bare feet and tight shiny dress, she just wasn’t fast enough. By the time she reached the stair way, Stefan had caught up with her and grabbed her by the hair; pulling her backwards. Caroline latched onto his hand, digging her nails into his skin; but the slight pain seemed not to faze Stefan. He dragged her down the hallway, Caroline kicking and yelling for him to let her go.

Stefan tossed her into the bedroom, throwing her into the dresser. Her body smashed into it, the side of her face hitting the drawer, before landing on the wood flooring. He reached down and picked Caroline up by her throat and slammed her into the wall. Elena was rushing around the room, frantically gathering her clothes and dressing. Stefan pressed his still naked body against hers and tightened his hand on her throat.

“You say nothing.” Stefan’s voice was the most dangerous she had ever heard it. It was low and menacing. “Do you understand me? You saw nothing. You know nothing. You keep your mouth shut and I’ll let you pretty little head stay on its shoulders. Understand?” Caroline nodded the best she good and Stefan gave her a charming smile. “Good.”

For good measure, he slammed her head against the wall one last time before dropping her to the ground. He kicked her twice in the stomach, causing her to go into the fetal position. Her entire body ached from his assault. Dazzlingly, she could hear Stefan dressing while exchanging words with Elena. She opened her eyes to see a blurry vision of Elena walking past her following Stefan, not even sparing her a glance.

She closed her eyes again, drifting off.

It wasn’t until late morning that Caroline came to. She was in her bed, the same bed Stefan fucked Elena in, and her clothes had been changed. She sat up and nearly cried. She looked down and noticed that her waist was bandaged; and was the part of her body that hurt the worst. She pulled herself from the bed and walked to her now broken dresser. She pulled a change of clothes out and went into the bathroom. She turned on the light and looked at herself in the mirror.

The sight was frightening. There was a cut on her forehead that had been cleaned and a bruise that covered the side of her face. Her neck bore marks in the shape of Stefan’s hand. She didn’t remember getting dressed or cleaning herself up. She turned on the sink and washed her face as gently as she could. She wanted to shower but how her waist felt, she figured it would not be the best idea. She did the best she could to wash away any dried blood that was left. She changed into a pair of jeans and a tank-top with a built-in bra. She figured she would grab a cardigan, despite the hot August air, to hide the bruises that were left on her arms.

“You gave me a right scare last Gorgeous.” Caroline all but jumped back as she re-entered her bedroom. Enzo was standing in the master’s bedroom with a concerned expression on his face. He held up his hands to show her he meant no harm. “I heard the commotion from outside, I came running the moment I heard what was going on. Admittedly, he hid when I saw Stefan and Elena coming out.”

“You cleaned me up.” Caroline replied and Enzo nodded.

“I cleaned the wound on your head. Got you to drink some water and wrapped your waist as tightly as I could. I think you have a cracked rib. I stayed as long as I could, ensuring that you were okay but I couldn’t risk Stefan realizing I was there.” Enzo stated. He walked closer to her and his voice dropped low. “I let him know what I found last night. Caroline, he is ready to reign hellfire down.”

Enzo stepped away from her then and left the bedroom quickly before anyone came upon them. She stood in the middle of the bedroom contemplating and thinking. She knew that Enzo would contact Klaus for her. She could not risk reaching out to him now. Stefan would be watching her and the last thing he could know was about her affair. What he did last night would be nothing compared to what he would do to her if he knew about Klaus. Flashes of the pictures Elijah showed her came to mind; Meredith Fell’s body, her head completely detached from her body.

Once she felt her bravery reached her, Caroline made her way down the stairs. It was slow process. Her muscles ached and groaned with every movement. However, she could not hide away in the bedroom all day; that would only make Stefan angrier. When she reached the kitchen, she made a cup of coffee and sat at the island, thinking the night before and how terribly wrong it went.

“What did you do?” Caroline looked up quickly to see Damon leaning against the archway. His tone was light as though he did not have a care in the world. His arms were crossed and he was eyeing her up and down. “I know my brother has a temper but what did you do that made him that angry?”

“I was out with Aurora last night. Had one to many. Came home late.” Caroline replied.

“And now she knows not to do that.” Caroline froze at the sound of Stefan’s voice. He entered the kitchen, his eyes never left hers-a warning lingering behind them. He took the cup of coffee from her hands and drank from it. He sat it back down and kissed the top of Caroline’s head. “Come brother, tell me about your meeting with the Mayor last night. Tell me, what does she look like at three in the morning?” Stefan chuckled, his tone filled with humor as though his wife was not sitting before him, beaten and bruised.

Days past and Caroline did not leave the house; both because she was too injured and Stefan would not allow it. She stayed put, walking on egg shells and unsure what to do. Damon and Elena were over most days, but that was not unusual. Elena became extremely nice to Caroline, acting as though they had been the best of friends forever. Caroline smiled at her, but did not engage her to much. Stefan’s eyes rarely left hers and he made sure that she was never left alone with Damon; who seemed to notice nothing at all. Enzo filtered in and out as usual, giving her only looks; clearly not being able to say anything at all; but something was about to happen.

Come Tuesday morning, hellfire came raining down. She locked herself in the house, rarely doing anything other than reading and watching movies. Stefan made it a point to stay home for the rest of the weekend and did not go into the office on Monday or Tuesday; telling them that Caroline was sick and needed him to care for her. In truth, he did no such thing. He ignored her and she knew that this was another way for him to control her and watch her movements; but Caroline gave him no reason to strike out at her. It was about ten past nine in the morning when everything changed.

“FBI. Open up.” Caroline sat up quickly, her body crying out as she did. Before anyone could answer the door, it burst open and agents came flooding in. Dozens and dozens of agents started tearing the house apart, looking for something; anything.

Stefan flew down the stairs, demanding to know what was going on. He yelled at the agents who ignored him and continued the assault on the massive house. Elijah Mikaelson stepped over the threshold casually, his hands in the pocket of his trousers; not giving a single fuck in the world.

“Get the hell out of my house. You’re not welcome here.” Stefan hissed at him but Elijah looked at him impassively. He reached into his suit jacked and pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to him. Stefan snatched it out of his hand and began to read.

“I believe that you’ll find a federal warrant allows me to be in every inch of your house.” Elijah replied coolly. A loud crash came from inside the dining room; the china case if Caroline was assuming. “We are investigating the murder of Meredith Fell and re-opening the murder of Elizabeth Forbes. Two deaths we have sufficient evidence to believe you were involved with.”

“This isn’t a warrant to search my house.” Stefan hissed out.

“My apologize. That must be the one for your arrest.” Elijah reached in and pulled out another piece of paper. “This must be the one for the search of your house. Do not worry. We have another warrant searching your brother’s home as well.” Stefan snatched the paper out of his hand and read. “Now, you can either come with me willingly or I can have you taken by force. I’m sure you would not want to make more of a scene in front of your wife.”

Stefan turned to look at Caroline, her bruised face and battered body on display for all the agents around. Her shorts and tank-top left nothing to the imagination. The visible hand-prints on her neck made it clear that she had been chocked. It would not take a genius to know what happened to her and now the FBI clearly knew what Stefan did to his wife behind closed doors. While Stefan was busy glaring at his wife as though she brought the FBI to their door, Caroline stole a glance at Elijah. His expression seemed cool and collected but there was something behind his brown eyes that was terrifying.

“Fuck you.” Stefan replied, turning back to Elijah; who just gave him a cruel smile.

“Take him.” Two agents descended upon Stefan and roughly pulled towards the front door. “I’d cooperate if I were you Mr. Salvatore. I would hate for this to become more of a spectacle than it already is.”

The agents dragged Stefan from the house while Caroline just watched; catching glimpses of her neighbors pointing and whispering behind their hands. Chaos raged around her as her home was being destroyed. Every ounce of furniture was being destroyed, torn apart and searched for something. She could hear the same treatment being done to the second and third floor. When a hand touched her shoulder, she jumped; for a second, she thought Stefan some how made his way back into the house but was relieved to see that it was Elijah looking at her.

“My apologize Mrs. Salvatore. Caroline.” Elijah said, his eyes searching her. “Are you well?”

“I’ve been better.” Elijah nodded in understanding. “Whatever your searching for Elijah, it won’t be here. Or at Damon’s. They are not stupid to keep anything incriminating here.”

“Perhaps but some raids are not meant to find anything at all.” Caroline read between the lines. These agents were not hear to find anything but instead to plant something. This was just one step in a larger plan. “I believe that you’re wanted upstairs Mrs. Salvatore.”

Enzo’s words echoed in her mind. Caroline, he is ready to reign hellfire down.

Caroline gave him a confused looked and it wasn’t until he smiled that she turned and went quickly as she could up the stairs; her cracked ribs only allowing her to move so fast. She passed all the agents and stepped over the debris that was being left behind. Her eyes searching every face she passed, looking for one in particular. When she got to her bedroom, she pushed the door open and saw only one agent. Except, he wasn’t an agent at all and he wasn’t searching for anything.

Klaus stood in the bedroom she shared with Stefan, an FBI jacket hanging off his shoulders. He wasn’t going through their belongings, trashing the room (which was already trashed by another agent) but instead he was installing something in the television that was perched on the mantel, facing the bed.

“Klaus.” He turned when he heard the sound of her voice. He dropped his screwdriver and marched over to her. Gently, he placed his hands on her face. He took category of every bruise on her body and Caroline could feel the rage that was radiating from his skin. His body was shaking and she could feel the tension radiating from him. “I didn’t know you joined the FBI.”

“I’m not in the mood for jokes.” Klaus replied but his lips tugged upward. “I needed a way into this house. To you. Elijah was more the willing to provide the distraction. I was one face of many, storming in. Stefan would be focused on Elijah and I could come in undetected.” Of course, Klaus would use the FBI as a distraction for his own personal vendetta. “I wanted to come here and kill him the moment Enzo informed me of what happened to you. Elijah’s cooler head prevailed. This was Elijah’s plan.”

Caroline stood on her tip toes and kissed his lips lightly. She wasn’t up for anything deeper than a light peck but Klaus was willing to accept what she could give. She buried her face into his chest, inhaling his scent. This the safest she felt in days. Klaus felt like home to her and she wanted out of this hell. She knew that they were working on it but last night scared her. Stefan was one mood away from killing her.

“What were you doing when I came in?”

“Installing a camera. There will be dozens throughout the house once this is over.” Caroline shot him a look. “Stefan’s arrest will only hold him for so long. His lawyers will have him out on bail within days.” Caroline nodded in understanding. This was not the end but instead a power play. Caroline realized that what Klaus had done before, sending pictures of Jeremy’s body, raiding Stefan and Damon’s docks, slowly dwindling down their power, was child’s play. “He will never lay a hand on you again. If he tries. I will know. We are going to attack him from all sides. Financially, ruin his reputation, Stefan won’t be able to make a move without us knowing.”

“And Stefan and Elena? Their affair?”

“Give it time, love, and they will be a tragedy of their own making.”

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