#i can't really.. block him from real life

[calware]

context

guy who lives in my building keeps trying to talk to me but i don't like him (one of his friends is a nazi and when i brought it up he brushed it off) what do i do… do i just ghost him??

[surgepricing]

I think about Azula shooters often and their common refrain of "if Azula hadn't had a mental breakdown, she would've won" and I'm here to tell you that no, she wouldn't have.

There is no universe in which Azula was winning that fight with Zuko (or Katara, for that matter).

Azula spent so much of Book 2 being built up as this deadly terrifying force against whom the heroes are badly outmatched that it can be difficult to catch exactly how quickly Zuko is advancing.

Back up a bit to Book One. For the fearsome exiled crown prince of the Fire Nation, Zuko's not that impressive a firebender. He's not bad by any stretch, and he's able to lay the untrained Sokka and Katara flat pretty easily. Then he gets in the ring with Aang, who is an airbending master, and the difference between a regular bender and a master becomes apparent when Aang literally puts his ass to bed:

People have attributed this to the fact that no one's fought an airbender in 100 years, but I think it's also worth noting that Aang (a 12 year old from a pacifist nation) has probably never fought anyone before. Like, ever. And yet the second Aang thinks "okay, I'll attack back", the fight's over.

Zuko's got the same genetic predisposition for firebending talent that Azula does, yet it never seems to manifest because of his mental blocks. At the beginning of the series, he's already so beat down that all he really has is conviction, pride, and anger, so even with training from Iroh (the firebending master, thank you very much), he struggles. Yet throughout Book 2, when he has no time to train because he's on the run, he actually seems to advance faster. The fact that his bending is literally tied to his character arc (as his morals become tangled and he has to fight off aforementioned mental blocks) is pretty brilliant. Like, by the time of the Crossroads of Destiny, Zuko getting his ass handed to him by Aang is a pretty consistent feature of the show--he just can't match wits with him.

Hell, at the beginning of the series, he and Iroh (again: the actual firebending master) launch a combined power surface-to-air attack...which Aang casually swats away into a nearby ice wall. Come the Crossroads of Destiny, however, and Zuko by himself launches this bigass fireball that blows through Aang's defenses.

Zuko advances so quickly that it's scary. That prodigious talent is in him even if it doesn't come through as cleanly as with Azula. Who, by the way, was busy about to get flattened by Katara some few dozen feet away, until Zuko took over and then effectively stalemated her himself.

All of this in retrospect makes it abundantly clear why Zuko's firebending seemed to skyrocket so much when he learned true firebending from the Sun Warriors: it was really the only thing left. He's hard a hard road learning how to fight waterbenders, earthbenders, and airbenders, and even if unconsciously, he's applying the philosophy Iroh taught him about augmenting his bending style with aspects of other styles (see also, the waterbending-like fire whips he uses in the above gif). Once he actually understands fire and how it works, he's got it mastered. Hence why any gap between him and Azula effectively disappears as soon as their next fight--before her friends have betrayed her and her stability goes out the window. There's no real sense of urgency to their fight at the Boiling Rock prison. True, Sokka's presence with the sword helps, but Zuko doesn't look remotely worried and he counters Azula's every attack perfectly.

All her life, Azula only ever learned fire. She was taught by the best people the fire nation can employ, so she knows all the cool tricks, but she's still poisoned by the corrupted firebending practiced in the modern ATLA timeline. Unlike Zuko, who managed to get the basics if nothing else from Iroh (fire comes from the breath, and can be used to survive as much as to kill), Azula has always used fire as a weapon and a means to hurt others. She has no true knowledge of the craft, meaning she's got the same weaknesses as Zhao, she's just better disciplined to the point she can make up for it.

Zuko's victory was a given considering Azula's complete loss of control by the time of Sozin's comet, but even had she been in a perfect mental state, she'd have lost, because in many ways Zuko is simply the better firebender.

And that's the truth of it.

[animamii]

"Fushiguro, that's your girl?" One of Toji's block mates asks, eyeing one of the many pictures Toji had of you taped to the slate gray brick wall. It was a simple picture, your hair was wavy in this one, a cute dimply smile, lashes curled as you looked all natural. But god, were you still stunning. Toji looks up from the thing he was doing, sitting in the steel chair that was bolted down to the floor.

"Yup, that's my ol' lady," looking up at the picture he can't help but proudly smile. Toji's wall is covered in pictures. Of you, of Megumi. The whole family. Cute pictures you took with each other before he got locked up. It was his motivation to stay straight while being inside. To remind him of what's waiting for him when he gets out.

The block mate lets out a low whistle, nodding approvingly as he leans back against the cold wall. “Damn. She bad.” His celly's eyes roam over the pictures. Ones where you're dressed up all pretty, makeup done perfectly. Ones where you're wrapped around one of Toji's arms, looking up at him with all the adoration in the world. Even the ones that show just a little too much, which Toji keeps right next to where he lays his head.

Toji chuckles, shaking his head. “Watch it.” There’s no real threat in his voice, but there’s an edge of warning that makes the other guy hold his hands up in surrender.

“Ain’t mean no disrespect, Fushiguro,” he says, still looking at the pictures. “Just sayin’. You lucky.”

Toji doesn’t need to be told that. He already knows. It’s what gets him through the long nights, the endless hum of fluorescent lights, the hostility of the barbed wire that separates him from the outside. Knowing you're out there, waiting, is the only thing that keeps him from losing his damn mind.

He leans back against the desk he sits in front of, arms folding across his broad chest, eyes fixed on the pictures. His ol’ lady. His girl. His anchor in a life that never gave him much stability.

A slow smirk tugs at his lips. He can still hear your voice, that soft, teasing lilt whenever you’d call him by his full name just to mess with him. “Toji Fushiguro,” you’d say, dragging it out, pretending to scold him, even though your eyes always gave you away. He lived for those moments.

“Bet she writin’ you, huh?” the block mate asks. “You get letters?”

Toji nods. “Every week.” And he does. Neatly folded pages that smell like you, inked with words that remind him that he’s still human. That he’s still yours. That he still has something waiting for him beyond these walls. But god, does he miss you.

“Damn,” the block mate mutters, shaking his head in disbelief. “Every week? That’s real love right there.”

Toji just smirks again, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a folded piece of paper, edges worn from being opened and closed too many times. He doesn’t even need to read it again—he’s already memorized every damn word—but still, he unfolds it, running a calloused thumb over the handwriting. Your handwriting.

Hey, baby. I know you hate when I get all mushy, but I don’t care. I miss you. I miss you so much it drives me crazy sometimes. But I’ll wait. However long it takes, I’ll wait. You better be eating, staying out of trouble, and keeping that smart-ass mouth in check. (Okay, maybe not too much. You know I love that about you.)

Toji chuckles to himself, shaking his head. Yeah, you knew him too damn well.

Megumi misses you too, even if he acts all tough about it. You should’ve seen his face when I told him your letter came. He’s just like you, y’know? Won’t say how he really feels, but it’s all there in his eyes.

Toji swallows hard, jaw clenching. Megumi. His kid. Another reason for pushing through this hellhole. He pictures him—too serious for his own good, but with those same sharp blue eyes. His boy.

“Yo, Fushiguro,” another voice calls out, snapping him from his thoughts. One of the guards. “Mail just came in.”

Toji is already up before the guy even finishes his sentence, heart pounding just a little faster. The guard hands the baby pink envelope with a lazy flick of the wrist, and Toji snatches it up quick, already recognizing the familiar scrawl of his name across the front.

His block mate lets out a laugh. “Man, look at you. Actin’ like a kid on Christmas.” Toji was always stoic, kept to himself and never showed much emotion. But hey, you always brought it out of him and he wasn't gonna front or hold a facade when it came to how he felt about you.

Toji doesn’t respond. He just sits back down, thumbs sliding under the flap of the envelope, tearing it open like it’s the only thing keeping him breathing in this godforsaken place. The first thing that falls out is a polaroid. His breath catches. It’s you.

You're sitting by a window, sunlight spilling over your skin, that soft, gentle smile on your lips. His girl. His sweetheart. Looking at him like she sees something in him that even he has trouble believing in sometimes. And just like that, the walls of the prison don’t feel so damn suffocating. He’s got something to hold onto.

Toji runs a thumb over the polaroid, like he could somehow feel you through it. The picture is warm, soft, a stark contrast to the cold steel and concrete around him. He exhales through his nose, staring at it for a long moment before finally unfolding the letter.

Your words hit him like they always do—gentle, teasing, but full of something deeper. Something that reminds him why he’s still holding on.

Hey, baby. I hope you’re not making the guards’ lives too hard. (Who am I kidding? I know you are.) It’s been getting colder here. I keep stealing your hoodie, the one you always say is yours but smells like me now. Tough luck, Fushiguro, it’s mine until you come back and take it from me.

Toji smirks, shaking his head. She’s gonna pay for that one.

Megumi’s been doing good in school, but I had to threaten to ground him just to get him to eat something other than instant ramen. He’s stubborn, just like his old man.

His smirk fades a little. He can picture it—Megumi sitting at the dinner table, arms crossed, trying to act like he doesn’t care. Just like Toji used to. The guilt settles in his chest, heavy and unshakable. He just wishes he could be there. For the both of you.

We miss you. I miss you.

He stops, lingering on that line. Simple, but enough to send a slow ache through his ribs.

I don’t care how long it takes. You come back to me, Toji. We’re waiting.

Toji exhales sharply, pressing the paper between his fingers, his grip a little too tight.

“Damn,” his block mate mutters, watching him. “She really ridin’ for you, huh?”

Toji just nods. He doesn’t need to say anything. He folds the letter carefully, tucking it away with the others. Getting up, he sticks some tape of the back of the polaroid, putting it up next to the rest of the pictures. Then he leans back in his chair, looking up at the mosaic of pictures you send him.

Yeah. She’s waiting. And he sure as hell isn’t gonna let her down.

[starktonyx]

Would you still love me if I was a worm? - Bucky Barnes x reader

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Word count: 1k

Description: A stupid little question turns into a makeout session. Your teammates hate to see it, except for one.

Note: Bucky is an absolute menace in this one. Tower fics are so back, enjoy 🫶🏼

Masterlist / John’s version

"Would you still love me if I was a worm?"

Your question startles Bucky from his half sleep state.

Bucky’s body is stretched out across the Watchtower's living room’s couch. You're half splayed on top of him, your cheek against his chest, and your fingers playing with the chain of his dog tags.

You can feel his beard grazing your temple, and his vibranium arm is slung over your body, pulling you tighter to him like he can't stand even half an inch of your bodies being apart.

"What?" He asks, in amused disbelief. His voice is rough, he’d been at the brink of falling asleep.

"Yeah" You lazily mumble, tracing the edge of one tag. "What if you woke up and I was suddenly... a worm?"

His soft laugh vibrates against your ear. You feel his hand twitch against your back, like he's resisting the urge to check your temperature or look for a possible concussion.

He ultimately decides it's probably just you being silly.

"Just like that? In our bed?" He asks, eyes wide with mock concern. "I would probably roll over and crush you. Then cry about it for the rest of my life"

He pinches your side playfully.

"Bucky!" You gasp, laughing into his chest.

God. You don't even know what that laugh does to him.

"Come on, be serious" You whine. "Just answer the question”

"It's not necessarily a serious question, doll"

"Still needs an answer" You lift your head to glare at him. "Or else."

"Or else?" He playfully mocks, eyebrows rising in feigned shock. He throws his head back, shaking it, and his mouth curls into a teasing smirk. "Hell of a threat coming from a worm"

You narrow your eyes at him.

He chuckles, and the way he smirks is different now. You know it meant he was onto something. 

"Fine, doll" He says, no longer mocking. "You really wanna know what I would do?”

In one fluid motion, he flips you beneath him, pinning your back to the cushions. His metal arm beside your head holds his weight as he leans down, lips brushing your jaw.

"I'd be real fucking sad, doll" He mumbles against your skin "Because if you were a worm, I couldn't do this…“

His mouth travels to your neck.

You gasp under him as his beard tickles your skin, his lips trailing hot kisses down your throat. He sucks a spot just below your ear and you whimper, an involuntary, needy sound that he easily pulls from you.

“See, doll?” He mumbles against your skin. “I wouldn’t hear those sweet sounds of yours”

Your hands get lost in his hair, tugging, trying to keep yourself grounded. But it’s no use. He’s all over you.

“Bucky…” you say in a haze, already forgetting what you were even talking about.

He knows you’re melting under his touch, but it’s the only way he can get his point across.

“So yes, I’d still love you” he mumbles, his voice is low and smug “but I couldn’t love you right, doll”

His vibranium arm slips under you, lifting your hips closer to his.

“You feel that, doll face? you wouldn’t be able to take me like this, couldn’t wrap your body around me, couldn’t—”

“BUCKY”

The chorus of disgusted voices and grunts calling him out crashes into you like cold water.

You freeze on the spot. Bucky immediately pauses and closes his eyes for a second.

With heat all over your faces, you peek over the back of the couch.

There in the open kitchen, John is leaning over the counter, with Ava sitting across from him. Yelena lounges beside her with a bowl of popcorn they’d been sharing.

“The stupid worm talk was kinda entertaining” Yelena says, flicking a handful of popcorn at you “But now you’re just being disgusting”

Bucky blocks the kernels with one arm.

“Do you have to get freaky every time you’re in this room?” John complains.

“We’re literally right here” Ava makes a gagging noise.

“We weren’t even doing anything” Bucky says innocently, then grins like the little devil he is. “Yet”

You smack his arm and shove his chest to get up from the awkward position. Bucky groans theatrically but stands, running a hand through his tangled hair like he’s proud of the mess you made.

He offers you a hand up, but when you take it he pulls you back against him the moment you’re standing, pressing a kiss to your neck, eyes locked with them like it’s a challenge.

That horny little bastard.

“Okay, that’s our cue to leave” Ava stands abruptly, the stool screeching across the floor. Her nose wrinkles in disgust.

John follows with the popcorn bowl in hand, muttering “It’s literally every damn week”

“Always the same with these two… at least have some shame” Yelena sighs, shaking her head like a disapproving church aunt before trudging after them.

They vanish down the hallway.

“Alone at last” Bucky whispers over your ear. He gently tucks your hair behind it, then lays another warm kiss against your neck.

You’re just starting to melt again, when the sound of the flick of a page makes you freeze again.

You both whip around to find Bob, still curled up in his reading chair in the corner, legs crossed, his left foot bouncing. He’s been there this entire time, and his expression was calm.

Too calm.

“Bob” Bucky squints at him. “You okay over there, buddy?”

Bob blinks, just noticing you. “Huh? … Oh! Yeah yeah. I’ve had roommates who were way worse. If you don’t mind me, I don’t mind you.”

He shrugs, then slips on his noise canceling headphones and continues reading, completely unfazed.

You stare at him horrified. Worse roommates? What on earth has he seen?

You look at Bucky, whose face mirrors your horror.

“Okay… this got weird” he mutters, shaking his head. But almost instantly, he catches your eye, lips curling. “Unless…”

He looks at you, with that devilish smirk he only does when he knows he's out of line.

This time you smack him harder.

“James Buchanan Barnes, you did not just suggest that we …”

You couldn’t even finish as you break off in a chuckle when he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, completely unbothered.

“Yeah … whatever, doll. You know those headphones wouldn’t have helped Bob once I had you screaming into the cushions”

You groan, one hand covering your face as the other grabs him by the belt to drag him towards the elevator.

He just lets you, very happily.

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comments and reblogs save author’s lives, thank you so much for reading <3

[intromortal]

⟢ like it when i call you daddy? ⸝⸝⸝ yang jungwon

oops! your boyfriend finds out you have a raging daddy kink. but he's more than happy to indulge you

this work contains ⋆ smut ⋆ minors do not interact ⋆ daddy kink duh ⋆ shy reader ⋆ menace jungwon ⋆ fingering ⋆ unprotected sex ⋆ creampie ⋆ slight edging ⋆ praise ⋆ brief cockwarming

length ⋆ drabble ⸻ 3.5k words

✷ NIA — barely proofread pls it's 2 am bear with me. i was supposed to finish this yesterday but then someone tried to break into my apartment. hope your weekend was better than mine!

Uh oh. You know that look.

The look Jungwon gives you only when you're in real deep shit, the one that tells you he's not letting you off the hook or negotiating with you no matter what.

It's almost mean in the way only bright and soft eyes can be, like they're not meant to shape into anything that isn't cutesy. It's like he's scrutinizing your eyes as if they were little windows to your soul, no curtains blocking the light shining in. It's a look you've come to assume means 'danger ahead! Tread carefully.'

Mostly because if there's anything Jungwon hates, it has to be you hiding stuff from him. Whether it's silly things like the paper cut you got at work the day before, or how your tires need to be changed—you can handle that yourself just alright, but Jungwon wants to do it all for you—or the bigger, scarier stuff like doubt poking your chest when you spiral thinking about your future, unsure of what your place in the world is supposed to be, or if you have one at all. He hates it all. He wants you to rely on him, open up both your mind and heart to let him in. It's not a matter of needing him, Jungwon knows you're more than capable of doing it all yourself, you've done just that your entire life.

But that's all the more reason to rely on him if you ask him.

He wants to be your rock, your superhero in spandex like the ones you always make fun of when it's a Friday night and older Marvel movies are all that's playing on TV—he thinks being made fun of is okay as long as you're the one laughing. He wants to be your safe haven. A place where you walk in and feel the heaviness dissolve off your shoulders. He wants to be your home.

You shouldn't have to worry about anything because you've worried yourself sick over other people all your life, he needs to be your break.

Jungwon is your judgment free zone, he knows all your deepest secrets, no matter how embarrassing. He checks for spots you can't quite reach when you think something is off with your body—and he tells you that no, it's not a terminal illness, you'll be fine—no matter how disgusting. He has seen you dazed, hair messy and eyeliner somehow down to your cheeks after a night out. Even washed your face for you when you couldn't and patiently did your skincare because he knew you would complain about your skin feeling dry in the morning otherwise. He has made love to you in every way, in every position, no matter how unflattering. And he still loves you, still thinks you're the most gorgeous being walking on the sun dried tufts of grass that make up Earth. Though if you ask him, the sun is all the way down here and not up in the sky anymore, the one there is just a less impressive copy.

So when you keep things from him, it stings extra.

You lay underneath him, eyes as big as a fawn, staring right up into his scrutinizing gaze. And he's giving you that look, so you might as well start praying up to anyone who will listen.

"Oh? You like that?" Jungwon's hand slides under your shirt, slowly caressing the skin it was just tickling mercilessly moments ago. "Now, that's new. How come you didn't let me in your little secret until now, mhh?"

You don't really have a top 5 worst ways in which your boyfriend could find out you have an embarrassing, raging daddy kink, but if you had one, you imagine 'whimpering after he jokingly says 'be still and good for daddy' while play fighting' would be up there at the top.

"I… uhm. I don't….?" It sounds more like a question than anything else, and the wicked grin overtaking Jungwon's face only makes you want to shrink back into the mattress further.

He looks to the side, shaking his head slightly as his tongue pokes out between his teeth. The corners of his mouth are upturned, but it's not warm or playful like his smile usually is—it doesn't make the sides of his eyes crinkle like you love.

If keeping things from him is a no-go, outright lying might be ten times worse.

So, you bargain. "It's just… you know. Took me by surprise. You don't seem the type of—"

Your sentence is interrupted by a squeal of surprise as he grabs your thigh and drags you down the bed, crawling over you possessively. He reaches for your arm, bringing it to his lips so he can trail his way down with soft kisses, so unlike the energy emanating from him. He kisses your palm sweetly, it makes your head spin like you've been thrown off your balance. "I'm not the type to?"

He's encouraging you to finish your thought, but you have half the idea that by doing that, you'll only dig your grave further, so you choose silence.

"That's what I thought." Jungwon bends down, gaze still boring into your eyes and mouth hovering so close to yours you can feel the words before you can hear them. "I'm the type to do everything for you. I thought you knew by now."

Of course, you do. He makes it pretty clear every waking hour of the day. But the little title that has heat rushing right to your cheeks just thinking about it, is something you never found the courage to be open about, even to Jungwon. As silly as it sounds, the thought of giving someone else so much power, complete control over you feels impossible, even when it's what your deepest and most hidden self craves most.

"I know. It just felt silly and—oh."

"Keep talking. Don't let me stop you." Jungwon noses the skin of your neck, taking in your scent like he might forget it if he doesn't, like it's the last chance he has to do so. Jungwon's love is often like this, given to you in subtle but passionate gestures, ones he bestows onto you as if he might bleed out if he doesn't.

Your insides stir, heavy and hot in your lower stomach and the air almost feels too thick to breathe in, but you push through. Even when Jungwon's hand slides lower and lower until it reaches your shorts—if you can even call them that. "I thought, what if you don't like it. What if it makes me seem weird."

"I like what you like." You visibly shiver when he speaks into your ear, the warmth of his breath ticklish. He gently nibs the shell of your ear.

"But what if—"

"No what ifs, pretty girl. What you want, I give you. What you dream of, I give you." He looks down at you, his elbow bent to support his head. "Your deepest fantasies, I fulfill. Is that clear?"

You nod, looking at him with such sincerity and vulnerability in your eyes he almost coos at the sight.

"Good girl." Jungwon kisses your temple, and you don't know if it's the action itself or the praise, or maybe a little bit of both, but your muscles are more relaxed and your chest feels all fuzzy. The hand playing with the waistband of your shorts finally slides to cup your heat through your panties, his dainty but long fingers molding perfectly to your mound. He nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, gently smiling into the little nibbles he teases your skin with. They're hardly painful, his teeth not leaving marks behind. Not that they need to, your form quivering underneath his body is already enough. "Let daddy take care of his baby, yeah?"

You cover your face with your hands, embarrassed by the effects his words have on you. It only spurs Jungwon further though, because soon his hand is pulling your completely soaked panties to the side, slowly teasing your folds with his digits. "You're all shy, but she's so happy to see me." He smiles against your cheek, then dips down to litter your neck in open mouthed kisses, happily sighing when you adjust yourself to give him easier access.

"You're so lame," you say from behind your hand still covering your face.

"Oh baby, don't be jealous. You're both my princesses." Jungwon finally dips his fingers lower, teasing your dripping hole slowly with just the tips. He collects the wetness seeping out of you and spreads it all over your pussy, not even trying to dull the obscene sounds his action make. "You're so fucking wet, it's like she's talking back to me," he slurs his words, quiet as to not interrupt the ones coming from below. "And you wanted to deprive me of this?"

He keeps playing with you, relishing in the little sounds both you and your pussy make. His fingers move slowly, deliberately avoiding your clit.

"Jungwon, please," you whine, but the way his lips shape into a grin you can quite literally feel against your neck tells you he wants something from you first. And you have an idea of what it is.

"Wrong name, try again."

Of course.

You're not ready to give in yet though, so you decide to push his buttons for a little longer. "Please?"

The last thing you hear before Jungwon yanks his hand out of your shorts, much to your despair, is a venomous tch that has you seriously reconsider your previous actions. You know him well, so you know if you want to come you're gonna have to abide by his rules. Still, that doesn't stop embarrassment from growing in your stomach more, and more.

His movements are a lot less careful, making quick work of his fitted shirt and sweats, his boxers coming right off with them. Maybe it's the sight of his leaking cock, standing tall and angry against his lower abdomen, or maybe it's just wishful thinking, but despite your mind knowing better, your heart hopes for a few seconds that maybe, just maybe, you have irritated him past the point of punishment.

Jungwon grabs your shorts and panties, sliding them off your legs with a single movement and discards them somewhere on the hardwood floor of your room. It's fast and unceremonious, but the second his warm hand touches your thigh again you understand you got it all wrong. "That's okay. If you're too shy to call me daddy, I'll just have to fuck the shyness out of you."

You mewl when his hands slide up to the back of your knees, pushing them against your chest. The position is a little awkward, but you believe that's exactly what Jungwon is going for. "Here, hold your own legs up like this. Yeah, exactly like that. See? You can be good when you wanna be."

The stretch in your thighs burns, but it's close to nothing when the realization that Jungwon is making you hold onto your legs so you can't hide your face anymore sets in. Sneaky.

Jungwon, on the other hand, admires you with no reservation. Your cunt is completely exposed, like you've handed it to him on a silver platter, and now you have nowhere to hide. He has half a mind to sink down on his knees in front of the bed and eat you out until you're raw and cannot physically come anymore, but he said he would fuck you and he keeps his promises. Besides, he wants to see your face when you finally give in and call him daddy for the first time.

His knees dip into the mattress, the bed creaking with the weight put on it, but your own heartbeat thumps so loud in your ears you miss it. Jungwon takes his sweet time in reaching you, nothing like the urgency in his movements when he undressed you both. He knows you're waiting with bated breath for his next step, it's just another way to punish you for your disobedience. His hands roam your naked body, and he pushes your legs into your chest further, displeased with your loosening grip on them. He gives you a wordless, pointed look, and your hands immediately hold onto the back of your thighs harder.

"Pretty," Jungwon compliments your cunt, glistening and dripping right onto the bed sheets. His gaze is carefully scrutinizing every single part of you, but you know better than to try to shy away. "So, so beautiful. I don't know why you wanna hide from daddy."

"I'm not hiding," you whine in protest. Because, really, you're trying your best not to.

He grabs his length, leaking precum at the thick tip. You want to get a better look at it, so you try to take a peek, your back falling on the mattress again after a mere moment of struggle. That earns an airy, honest giggle from Jungwon, and it has your insides fluttering. It's so easy for him to get a reaction out of you, whatever he does makes you all tingly, whether it's because of fondness or lust. And by the quick look you got at his cock he's not much better off, you can't recall a time you have seen him this red and wet, ready to be inside you from just a little kissing and touching. Which is saying a lot, because Jungwon gets flushed quite easily.

The thought makes you feel a little less embarrassed.

Jungwon taps his cock on your clit a few times, each one sending a jolt of pleasure right through your spine. That tiny amount of stimulation is all he gives to your poor neglected bundle of nerves, and he moves his thick tip downwards, rubbing it repeatedly between your folds. All you can do is throw your head back, teeth poking your bottom lip in an attempt to silence the sounds threatening to spill out of your mouth.

He sighs in delight as your juices coat him, mixing with his precum. His eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, his mouth twisted in a way that makes a dimple pop up on his cheek as he keeps rubbing his cock on your cunt, loving the sight of your nails digging into your thighs to leave tiny half moon indentations. Look at you doing the marking yourself.

"I already take care of you, make sure you're well rested, handle whatever I can to take the load off your shoulders," Jungwon says, never stopping his movements against your heat. "I fuck you so good all the time, take my time with your pretty pussy when I have the chance. Take such good care of you both." He falters for one second, when he accidentally lowers his tip just a smidge too much and ends up rubbing it over your clenching hole. He keeps his cock there, pushing in so slightly you almost miss it, just to take it out and repeat the motions. "I wanna be a part of all your fantasies, would do anything to make you come as hard as I can." He sinks into your heat more this time, just enough to let the stretch of his tip pushing in register for you. "So why won't you be a good girl for daddy and address me by my title? I know you want to."

Jungwon's hips slowly push his cock into you, his mouth open in a silent moan as inch by inch you welcome him into your snug cunt. He's been obsessed with the feeling of that first thrust inside you ever since the first time he slid into you, it's the one thing he always takes his time with, even when he's mad or frustrated and ready to pound into you until you can barely feel your legs anymore.

That's usually what the dangerous look he gave you earlier entails, but this time it's different. His pace doesn't suddenly increase once he fills you to the hilt, reaching so deep inside you, any more would feel like too much. He keeps it slow, but steady, enjoying the way you clench against him, enjoying the view you're giving him with your body bent to accommodate him. He fucks you deep, the position you're in allowing him to reach so deep inside you stars dance across your vision. His pelvis rubs against your clit so deliciously a tiny bit of spit dribbles down your chin from the corner of your mouth. You can feel every inch, every vein, every ridge, and it's mouthwatering.

It's so good, you can feel yourself building up to the peak you want to reach so badly in no time, forgetting why you're in the position you are in the first place.

"Jungwon—" you whine, and he stops his thrusts almost immediately, his deliciously thick length pulling all the way back, his tip the only thing left in you. The loss is unbearable, and you wiggle your hips as if to coax more of his cock back into you again, all to no avail.

"No, no, no baby, who am I?"

You feel like crying, and a single tear does slip out of your eye, gravity making it fall somewhere on the bed. Jungwon doesn't care though, not when you refuse to give him what he wants to hear.

He moves his hips teasingly, as if to bait you to give in, he fucks you gently with just the tip, over and over again, careful to not give you too much. "C'mon baby, I know you can do it."

You clench around his tip, silently begging for more. More that will never come if you don't give in, and you know it. It's on the tip of your tongue, and you want to give in so badly.

So you do. "Please, daddy."

Your voice is low, barely above a whisper, but Jungwon hears you loud and clear, and it's enough for him.

His hips plunge against yours, and you gasp when you feel his thick cum fill you up so unexpectedly. He barely moves, coaxing spur after spur of seed as he empties himself inside of you. Your walls flutter against his sensitive cock, and your hips twitch when he suddenly moves his thumb over your puffy clit, rubbing rough circles on it while he keeps fucking his own cum inside you.

"Good girl, milking me dry like this, yeah baby, keep doing that." His voice is rough and thick, sending pleasure right to your belly. You feel so full, so warm, as his movements never falter, even when his cock is raw from overstimulation.

"Daddy, 'am close."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, baby. Coming again, need you to come too." Even more cum fills you up at the name, and when Jungwon buries himself all the way in, thumb still circling your clit, and presses down with his other hand right on the bulge on your tummy, searing white blindness hits you for a moment as you come undone around him. His moans sound beautiful as you rhythmically clench around his thickness in your ecstasy, his thumb still working you through your orgasm.

It keeps going for longer than it ever has, your toes bent as if it's the only thing keeping you grounded while waves of pleasure keep crashing through you.

Jungwon slows down, but never pulls out of you completely, keeping his cum plugged inside of you. You're not holding onto your legs anymore, and his body gives in on top of you with one last teasing thrust, crushing you a little with his weight.

"Hey," you protest, still in the process of catching your breath.

"Mhh." He nuzzles his forehead against yours, uncaring for the sweat sticking you together. "That was good."

You giggle, a light feeling washing over you, spreading from your chest to your limbs in soothing waves. "Yeah, I think you liked me calling you daddy a little too much."

You feel lightheaded, in a good way. And in Jungwon's arms, you know you're as safe as you could ever be. It fills your heart with longing, even if he's right there with you.

Jungwon wraps his arms around you, spinning you both around on the messy bed sheets, quickly switching up your positions so you're on top of him, your head resting right on his chest.

His heartbeat, slowly going back to being steady, gently lulls you to sleep, even when the sun outside shines in through your window and casts the shadows of the windowsill plants over the tangled mess your and Jungwon's legs make up. He kisses your forehead once, then again, slowly aligning his softening cock to slide back into you. "Maybe. You should've done that sooner."

[inkskinned]

don't worry, they're joking! they're always joking when it would be something, like bigoted. because i'm not a bigot, obviously, i just vote for bigots - well, they're not bigots either, you can't really call someone a bigot just because they have religious views. this is the land of the free, and it's a christian nation, after all. you can pretend otherwise but let's just be real here; all our values are really based on the bible. anyway, i know you liberals get your panties in a twist - can i say that, or are you gonna cancel me, haha, #metoo - about every little joke he said and every little dramatic political view. oh, fascist this and fascist that. you are online too much, you love the word fascist because it's big and you're just paranoid about things.

well, no, i don't, like, read the policies. i have a life. and so what if they wrote - stop it, it's not a manifesto, okay? he eventually backed off from that - oh the vice president? who cares about that guy, that isn't real power. you're being dramatic, they're just spitballing. everyone makes big claims when they're out there campaigning. he just means he personally wouldn't get gay married. you want him to divorce his wife and get gay married? anyway, even if they cancelled gay marriage - it wouldn't happen, okay? nobody i know really cares about that - it'd be states-rights like those abortions you love so much. and you live in a blue state. you live in like the gay capital of the world. i don't know why it'd be so bad for you, you're borrowing trouble there.

and besides, you're missing the point of his campaign! you people want to be victims so bad you completely ignore what we're really voting for. there are tons of good things that happened because of his name and his policies - the economy, for one. oh stop, just because i can't tell you what a tariff is off the top of my head doesn't mean i don't have eyes. and stuff was better under him! well, yeah, anything good is his work, obviously. what? no, all the bad stuff was biden. and probably also obama. what do you even care about this, anyway? it's not going to effect you. it's four years.

oh my god, not the climate change argument again, i'm not getting into that. i don't care about it. if my house is beachfront that's great news for me. and we don't really know what's causing it. no, i saw you forwarded me those articles and i just laughed. what, do you think i have time to sit on my ass and read shit? huh? well, no, i like reading the babylon bee. they actually had a great article about all you climate freaks. and in the meantime, what do you want me to do? i'm not paying 4 dollars for gas. liberals love to talk about solutions but never pay for the solutions. what do you mean blocked because of congress. you gotta stop with the conspiracy shit.

no, my side doesn't have real conspiracy theories. the vaccine thing is a real thing. besides, you yourself don't like big pharma. just because i have an opinion, suddenly now you think big pharma is great? and this is serious, okay? your mom's friend's coworker has a kid that died from a heart event. i don't want you getting any more vaccines. i regret that you got them as a kid, i'd redo them. what do you mean you'd vaccinate your own kids? are you finally thinking of having some? you know i want grandkids - oh stop, i've never pressured you, i'm just saying that if you're going to get gay married, you might as well give me some normal grandkids to love.

stop, you know what i meant. what? no, he's not going to take away your right to adopt. besides, you could always use a sperm donor, haha, i know your high school ex would love to - jesus! okay! no need to snap. i'm just saying that you don't need to be married to have a kid. the only real benefit to marriage is taxes, haha. it won't change anything. oh my god, no, there won't be a rise in hate crimes. well, it's not his fault what people do in his name! he eventually spoke out against that, anyway.

what do you mean he supported them? i didn't hear him say that. oh. well, yeah, he said it, but like, he's clearly joking.

[yuquinzel]

— 7:35 P.M.

feat. katsuki bakugo. fluff. short drabble. wrote it to come to terms with the fact that i am, undeniably, bewitched by this man. :>

“the fuck?”

katsuki mumbles under his breath, his incoherent grumbling fading in and out of your earshot as he stomps over to the kitchen counter where you're standing. “I told you to use a butter knife, idiot.”

he grits his teeth, but his eyes— sharp enough to slice the apples you’re currently cutting— hold no real bite.

“well, hello to you too, baby.” you offer him a tender smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek. he lets out a petty little sound in protest, but leans in anyway— lets it linger longer than he means to.

without another word, his hand reaches for the knife. he takes it from you with a gentleness that smooths out the roughness of his much larger hands. then, the apple you were halfway through slicing. all while making claims and complaints about how you don’t really take his words seriously at all nowadays.

“why the fuck do we have such sharp-ass knives?!”

he mutters it low, voice dropping instinctively now that he’s standing so close.

he always does this when you’re near— lowers his voice into something softer, slower. tries his best to soothe it with tamed and hushed words. it’s a habit that formed over time.

you blur and bloom into his life in all colours, softening all the sharp edges piece him together. and he works damn hard to paint everyday in a kind of rare subtlety that he never believed he was capable of. practices with the kind of softness he always thought his hands wouldn’t be able to handle.

he never says it out loud, but you’re someone to be treated with care. always.

which is why—

“what if your clumsy ass ends up with more cuts than the fruit, huh?”

he’s not grumbling anymore. his voice is velvet now, baritone and warm, and it wraps around you like a blanket. you feel your heart swell.

“katsuki, honey, I can skillfully wield a katana. I’m excellent with blades.”

you laugh, mellow and sweet.

“you’ve never let me use a knife before, but seriously? you think a kitchen knife’s gonna hurt me when a sword doesn’t?”

his brows stay drawn, but he’s not frowning anymore. “I know ya can kill a man in twelve different ways, baby. don’t mean shit. you’re not using a knife like this in our house. i don’t care whose house it is. butter knife. that’s it.”

and just like that, he’s already done slicing two apples.

“...dude.”

he turns his head just slightly to glance at you, eyes narrow.

“who’re you talking to?”

the warning is soft, teasing. he’s always hated when you use any word for him other than baby, sweetheart, honey— even just his name wrapped in your voice, bleeding with so much meaning, like it’s an answer to everything, ever since he first heard them from your lips.

“seriously, katsuki...”

you try to feign annoyance, lips thinning—but he knows better. knows the way your mouth twitches at the corners, how you can't quite hold back your smile.

he smirks. he’s already tempted to kiss you again.

“dinner’s on you while you’re at it, then!”

you toss it over your shoulder as you walk away.

“OI! I NEVER SAID I’D DO EVERYTHING! WE’RE WORKING TOGETHER!”

THIS IS SO ASS I HAVENT WRITTEN ANYTHING IN SO LONG AND IT SHOWS LORDDDDDDDDDD DELIVER US FROM THIS WRITER’S BLOCK;-;-;-;-

[realcube]

— BEST FRIEND! SUNA

desc ;; your best friend helps you update your nudes. tws & tags ;; nsfw mdni. vaginal, oral (m & f receiving), overstimulation, squirting, filming, slight hair pulling, begging, objectification, breeding, praise + degradation. part one.

after the initial shock dies down, suna empathises with your frustration about being blocked by a guy you actually liked, and understands why that event has led you to want to update your gallery of nudes.

he explains that there are three types of photo that anyone will be receptive to. with these three pics, you'll be able to make any guy your bitch.

the three types of picture are as follows:

1. SQUIRTING PIC

his face drops, "uh," he splutters, not anticipating pushback, "girls can't squirt.. with vibrators." he blinks. the lies were somehow becoming less and less believable, despite how they weren't very convincing to begin with.

"that's a shame." you bow your head in attempt to suppress a chortle at his ridicoulous claim. finally, you decide to give him what he wants, "would you please tongue fuck me, then, rinny?" you bat your eyelashes at him.

"...sure."

"thank you." you smile up at him, innocently, and hum while motioning to his phone in his hand, "do you want me to take the picture since you'll be, uhm, busy?"

he shakes his head gently, and the words leave his mouth before his brain is able to fully process what's going on — he's still stuck on the part where you sent him your nudes. "it's fine. i'll just start videoing and put my phone.." he glances around his room, "here." as he hits the 'record' button and then props his phone up against the lamp on his bedside table. "then you can take screenshots from the part of the video you want."

you nod along with his explanation. however, the camera was behind suna currently, meaning that when he bends down between your legs, the back of his head would be blocking any parts of interest. thus, you inquire, "the thing is, when i finish, you'll be in the way. should we try a different position?"

"uh, i was just thinking you could just let me know when you're close and i'll move out the way." he offers up a simple solution.

"hm, alright." you shrug, twitching slightly as you watch suna get onto his knees near the edge of the bed. it was a sobering sight which made all this feel concerningly real. your best friend, who you've known since forever, was really about to eat you out. it all felt like some sort of hyper-realistic dream — if you thought about it too hard, you might wake up and this will all fade away, hence you refrained from doing so and wordlessly part your legs.

suna's hungry eyes lock onto your bare cunt; how soft your skin looks and the way your lips are already glistening with a thin layer of arousal. you're so perfect, it's like his whole life has been leading up to this moment; those other girls he's been with were just practise so he could fuck you right. his eyes fluttered close and his face drifted towards your pussy like a magnet to metal, until you interrupt:

"by the way, i've never squirted before — i don't even know if i can. so, erm, don't feel bad if i don't finish the way you expect. i can always just fake the pictures if i need to."

suna quirked an eyebrow, not daring to comment on your strange suggestion of falsifying a squirting pic. instead, he says monotonely, "you will. trust me, (y/n)." before you have time to respond, his lips are already connected to your cunt and sucking on sensitive clit, and thus an instinctive whine is forced from your open mouth.

it's easy to tell that he's done this before, and he's clearly a natural at it. one of his arms hook around your leg and presses it against his ear, while his other hand cups your pretty pussy; his thumb strokes at your folds, spreading them wide to allow his tongue access to the untouched parts of your sweet cunt. once he's done sloppily making out with your pussy, his tongue delves into your puckered hole, and his thumb trails upwards towards your clit, where he begins to rub and massage it while his tongue works your insides.

even then, his lips are still latched onto your skin and as his tongue is vigoursly pumping within your walls, slurping up your delicious juices from your entrance. your back arhces into his face, and your hands find their way into his already tousled hair. "hah- rinny, don't stop.." you were in love with the way he explored your insides, flicking at your walls trying to find that rough spot within you.

"mmh, won't." he murmurs against your pussy, the vibrations shooting electric sparks up your spine. he's lost himself in your addicting cunt; when his tongue isn't as far as he can reach in your hole, he's desperately lapping at your labia, greedily savouring your wetness.

"th— ank you, thank you!" you squeal, breath hitching as you can sense his tongue as finally located it — that gummy spot in your walls that makes your toes curl. and he takes full advantage of that once he realises. he'd roll his tongue upwards and aim straight for it whenever he'd dive back into your sopping hole, causing the coil in the pit of your stomach to tense whenever he does so. it wasn't easy to maneuver his tongue due to your unspeakable tightness, but his own saliva as lube made it easier.

"you taste.." he puctuates each word with a soft kiss on your clit, "s— so good." he melts into your pussy once more, sucking on and thrusting into your sore little hole. "mph, babe.."

"think— think 'm close.." with every lick and kiss he brings you closer to your climax.

"fuckin cum, then. n' make it loud." he mutters hoarsely, you can feel his words slither inside you. and soon enough, your coil snaps and your body stiffens in response to the wave of bliss that floods though you.

your first orgasm courtesy of your best friend was nothing short of perfect. due to your constricting pussy, he opts to use his thumb to stroke your clit in order to coax you through your full orgasm. also, so he could pull his face back from your cunt for just a moment and peer at your shivering frame and your bodily response during the high. and it was just as beautiful as he imagined: your back bowed into the perfect arch, as your glossy lips pull into a pout.

not to mention your addicting moans, "ahh— rin! i can't!" you squeak, limbs trembling. "fuck! fuck me— ngh!" it probably wasn't a good sign that you were already losing your mind. especially as, although you climaxed, you didn't squirt that time. and suna must've took that a sign to keep going. before you had even reovered from the first orgasmic haze, his mouth was already glued to your cunt again and was nibbling on your throbbing clit immediately.

you gasp in response to his unexpected movement, and you instinctively grip his hair as your eyes widen, "huh— what're you doing?"

"round two." he says casually. "gunna keep going until you squirt."

"but it's too much.." you blabber, chest rapidly rising and deflating as though you had just ran a marathon. the sheets strained in your fists, wrinkling with each open-mouthed kiss upon your raw cunt.

"that right?" he groaned, the vibrations causing you to gently jut your hips towards him, "sure you want me to stop?"

you're way too fucked out to respond, but the prolonged whine drawn from your throat at the way he idly laps at your pussy perhaps gives you away. "mph, no." you reply sheepishly, in a hushed tone.

"that's right, angel." he grumbles into you, your needy hole swallowing his words up as his hand strokes to the outside of your thigh, "it's just me. you know i want to make you feel good— and erm, help you take these pictures." he hastily corrects himself, then continues on with a gulp, hoping you're to lust-dazed to pick up on his freudian slip. "so are you going to let me help you?"

"yes, rinny." you sigh.

" 'yes, rinny' what?"

"please help me."

your desperate cries for release cause the corners of his lips to curl up into a devious smile. he then mumbles, while carefully caressing your ass, "that's my girl." he finishes with a prolonged and oddly inimate kiss upon your clit, before he swiftly pushes his tongue straight back into your prepped hole and re-establishes his previous rhythm.

the tip of his tongue scrapes against your sweet spot, as his lips drum a deep groan against your sopping pussy. there's an urgency to his pace that wasn't there before. he wasn't as steady; frequently losing his breath and having to ferociously yank his tongue out of your clingy hole and kiss down your slit as he tries to catch his breath. and as soon as he does, he wastes no time in plunging straight back into you.

despite how overstimulating it was, your hips work on their own as he grind down on his face, seeking the faint yet powerful sensation of his nose brushing your clit. his mouth worked feverishly against your cunt, and even as your climax toiled within your abdomen and you were inclined to jerk away from his merciless touch, his hand gripped onto your thigh to hold you firmly in place.

due to his fervent tongue action, and how sensitive you still were from your previous orgasm, it wasn't long before the swelling heat in your core was ready to boil over, pulsing with every devious strike his tongue lays into your hole. but this time it felt different to before, something was more powerful and fierce; like it was burning up the pit of your stomach, and your legs were already twitching trying to contain it. "stop, rinny, i—"

"shh, you're okay. let me take care of you." he rasps reassuringly against your cunt, though he's unsure if you can even hear him over your staggered squeaks. suna could tell you were close by the way your walls flutter around his tongue. he pulls out only so he can suck on your throbbing clit and sensitive folds.

this was all becoming so much, too fast. his tongue on your cunt, the harsh sunction on your clit, his rude grasp on your thighs — leaving you with no where to run to and no escape from the unending stimulation. you didn't know how to cope with it. "fuck, i can't. it's too much.."

"you can take it, angel. you're almost there." your thighs were pressed against his ears but he could feel your legs twitching and lashing out behind him. it was kinda cute that he was able to have this effect on you. since you were so close, he savoured every last drop of your juices, licking your cunt clean and delving into your creamy hole for more.

with the final stretch of your walls to accomodate for his tongue, something insides you snaps and a deep heat comes flooding out of your pussy. your back arches and a breathy shriek is forced from your gut; you're left with no choice but to submit to the all-encompassing, molten feeling. it's so overwhelming yet so relaxing, putting you at ease while causing your body to tense up and your walls to spasm around suna's tongue.

squirt gushes out of your hole, pouring down your legs and soaking your bedsheets. to that you can bring yourself to care, you hardly even notice. your entire body is frozen as you whien through gritted teeth, "ahh— suna, please!" you plead for mercy, as though rintaro could help you now — no , this was a struggle against your own body.

but suna was still nice enough to lead you through it, caress your thighs and kiss your folds even as your cunt was drenching his face and hair. "that's it, ride it out. i've got you, (y/n)." he coos, not usually so affectionate during sex but what can he say? you're his best friend and you're so special to him. "rinny's here." a smirk graces his lips upon referring to himself by that silly nickname.

"hah— suna.." you pant, eventually able to flatten your back against the bed. perhaps your orgasm had finished, but the remnants remains. your pussy was still drooling and your body felt worn, but in good way, like you had just hiked a mountain. not to mention the most glaring sign of your climax, your squirt that stained everything nearby — your cunt, your thighs, the bed, the floor and even your best friend.

"thank you.." you can't help but smile down at him; seeing him dishevelled and covered in your juices was oddly endearing.

"uhm.. it's fine." suna grumbled awkwardly, avoiding eye-contact and suddenly going shy.

"what's the matter?" you ask, concerned.

"i— uh, i forgot to move out of the way for the picture."

2. CREAMPIE PIC

okay, so squirting didn't exactly go as planned. however, hope was not lost. suna explained to you that another type of image that makes guys go absolutely feral for a woman is a creampie pic.

although, you were initially skeptical of the logic; if you were a guy, seeing the girl you're interested in stuffed with the cum of another man probably wouldn't do anything for you. but suna just cited natural biological instincts, and regardless of whose cum it is, it will always activate a man's primal instinct to reproduce with you. yup, it's true.

so, you didn't argue with him any further.

there you were, laid out nude on the bed as you let your best friend in the whole world pound into you. with your legs in the air, resting on his shoulders, suna stood at the edge of the bed and fucked into your pretty pussy relentlessly. his eyes were fixated on where your hips met, watching carefully as your greedy hole swallowed him up.

"so tight. can't believe you were hiding this pussy from me, baby." he slurs, idly toying with your pebbled nipple. though it wasn't an easy task as his cock pierced into you with such a force that your tits were bouncing dramatically with each thrust.

"n' you're so big.." you return the compliment, and despite how he was fucking your brains out, it wasn't too hard to muster up the words as his fat cock was about the only thing you could think about — the way his massive length was stretching out your insides, felt like he was leaving you with no room to breathe.

he huffs a chuckle at the sultry way in which you speak, you're clearly not all there, yet you're still making sense and saying exactly what he wants to hear. "should've dicked you down earlier, huh, babe?" he gradually slows down, easing in and out of you and allowing your cunt to savour every last inch of him. really show you what you've been missing.

"uhuh.. never been— ngh, been fucked like this before." you stutter, looking up at him with dewwy eyes. feigning innocence, when you both know pull well that you just want him to start rearranging your guts againt. still, he buys it. he's so enamoured by you regardless, and leans into press a firm kiss against your lips, then begins to scatter kisses along your jaw and down your neck. however, he holds your legs against his shoulders the entire time, even as he bends over, and essentially folds you in half while he sucks hickeys into your neck and teasingly drags his cock in and out of you.

"so flexible as well. perfect fucking angel." there's a certain agony in his voice that you can't quite decipher, partially due to his words being buried against the bruised skin of your neck, partially due to how absorbed you are in his cock delicately splitting you open. "should've blown your back out on halloween. in that slutty costume."

your costume was far from incdecent that night. it was normal, but funnily enough, you were probably the most conservatively dressed person at that party — still, it was the fact you were wearing it which made it slutty. you and your perfect, perky tits and round ass. and your dripping cunt that you photographed after suna walked you home, instead letting him take care of you. in retrospect, you were the most gorgeous person at the party and you were both tipsy enough to have made some bad decisions. so, why didn't he rip that slutty costume off you that night?

as he's reminiscing, without realising, his pace increases until he's practically ramming into you once again. not that you were opposed, in fact, this what you've been aching for. "yes, rinny! please, please, keep going." you beg, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes, not only from the rough way his dick was piercing into your tight little cunt, but also from the strain at the back of your thighs from the way he has your legs dangling right by your ears.

"pretty girl.." he grumbles into your neck, marking you up while still slamming his hips against your repeatedly. he's so close; he can feel your heart beat against his chest, and more importantly, your erect nipples poking him through his shirt. "dick too big for you? too big for this tight hole?"

"uhuh." you drawl, losing yourself to the hedonistic haze until he snaps you out of your trance by gripping your cheeks in his hand. your eyes are forced open and you see his face hovering above yours.

"your gunna have to get used it then. your pussy's mine now." his heavy eyes drag lecherously down your exposed body, admiring how it jerks upwards with each rough thrust. "open." his grip tightens on your face.

you shyly part your lips, just enough for him slot two fingers right inside there, so deep it almost causes you to gag. your tongue swirls his digits momentarily before he yanks them out with a faint pop, then slips his wet fingers down between your thighs to pinch and rub at your swollen clit.

"such a good g— nghh." as he's trying to mock you, he has to choke back a whimper, due to your walls clamping down on his cock unexpectedly. it's only temporary, and he's freed in time to keep furiously pounding into you, but it does cause a lapse in his rhythm. he can tell you're close; your pussy speaks on your behalf. even then, your cock-drunk expression and trembling legs were a dead giveaway too.

"you almost there?" he heaves, nails sinking into your soft hips as he continues to brutishly drive into you. "cum for me, baby."

although his wispy voice hardly cracked above a whisper, in combination with his expert fingers abusing your little clit and his buldging tip hitting just the right spot inside you, he sends you hurtling over the edge. your toes curl and back arches off the mattres as your cunt squeezes around his length. "fuh— fuck, suna! right there, mph!"

staggered breaths pull from his chest and his eyes wring shut as your walls clamp down on him and milks him for all he's worth. hushed moans fall from his lips as he relishes in the best pussy he's ever had, before he fills you up entirely with his seed. the hot tension spreading throughout his body is the only thing keeping him upright, otherwise your tight grip on his length was enough to cause his knees to buckle under him.

his cum permeates through your insides, coating your walls and burrowing at your cervix. it was the most satisfying experience; like a comforting hug for your insides after they had been destroyed by suna's fat cock.

despite the fact he's too tired to move and relishing in the feeling of your stuffed cunt, he does the right thing by gently sliding out of you and grabbing his phone from the nightstand and flipping the camera on. after his length is removed, there's nothing left to plug your hole and hence his white seed is left to slowly drip out of you. pearling by your entrance, then seeping down across your ass and onto the bed.

he took two pictures: one with flash and the other without.

"thanks, rinny.." you drone, in a whiny high-pitched tone.

"it's fine." he states, enchanted by the way he's left his mark on you. his fingers move on their own to swipe some of his cum back into your cunt, shoving it right up there roughly, despite your weak protests, "i didn't know you were on birth control."

that single sentence was enough to whip you out of your fucked-out daze. you try not to make your anxiety too obvious, but you body may have betrayed you by freezing up, "uh, right.."

3. BLOWJOB PIC

of course, this one was the least surprising proposal.

although, you were perplexed by this for a similar reason to the creampie pic — why would a guy want to see you sucking another man's dick? — but suna once again reassured you that the sensuality of the image will distract from any possessiveness. and either way, if a guy does happen to start experiencing some stirring jealousy, that will only make him want you even more, so he can stake his claim over you.

that was logic you could follow. sorta.

when you initially got on your knees in front of suna, the plan was that you would lick him clean of the variety of fluids sticking to his shaft and he'd take a couple photos as you did so. which he did; as your tongue worked up and down his warm length, swallowing the salty juices as they gathered on your tongue, suna watched from behind his phone screen. the flash was on so every time he'd snap a picture, he'd get a clear vision of your cute face lapping at his cock.

there was a dull thumping in his chest. he couldn't believe this was actually happening, his sweet best friend whom he has shared so many memories with and whose always been a shining light of comfort and innocence in his life — now you were asking him to take nudes for you.

"i got the photo." he croaked, strangely implying you could stop, while his hands told a different story as they tangled into your roots.

with your eyes shut, your kiss up his length, paying particular attention to the thick vein decorating his shaft, which made him shudder. "mm, but i'm not done, suna."

"but i got your photo." he repeated.

you smile, huffing a laugh out of your nose while your lips were still pressed against his throbbing tip. the air tickled his sensitive length and he had to grit his teeth and ball his fists to suppress a moan. you don't make it any easier by looking up at him with your starry eyes and dulcet voice, "but i want to thank you for all your help."

he blinks down at you, speechless as he watches you tease his tip with the flat of your tongue.

you take his dumb-founded silence and sitffening grip on your head as permission to finally envelope his cock with your mouth. first, you part your lips and take in his leaky tip. it's hot with need, and you can tell by the spluttered moan you lure of suna, he's been aching for this. your mouth has to stretch uncomfortably wide to fit his girth, but you're willing to make sacrifices for your best friend in the world.

you follow up by sinking forward, allowing his dick to slide back in your mouth until it's brushing against your uvula. thankfully you're too distratced by his hand lovingly caressing your strained cheek to even think about gagging. you look up at him, mouth full, and he smirks. "you look perfect like this." his thumb grazes your cheekbone then he cups your chin, tempting you forward, closer to his base, "think you can take it all?"

without further instruction, you pull away from him then lean forward again, accepting his entire length into your mouth despite how your throat constricts around his tip. and you keep going on like this; eyes screwed shut as you frantically sucked his cock. there was an extreme urgency to your movements, as you learned that if you deep-throated him and retreated fast enough, your body wouldn't have time to react or gag.

you were fully consumed by him. your best friend's cum was swirling around in your womb, conjesting your pussy and pooling in your panties while his cock was continuously drilling into your mouth. even your nose kept pressing against his base so his deep musk was all you could inhale. plus, you had his hickeys and marks littering your neck and collarbone.

your brows furrowed together as you struggling to take him all, and he laughed shakily at the sight. "when did you get so good at sucking dick, hm?" there was a sliver of sarcasm in his tone, but you were far too preoccupied to notice or care.

your severe mouth-action was far too much for him to handle. perhaps he was finally getting a taste of his own medicine, but being thoroughly pleasured so soon after his previous orgasm has left him so painfully sensitive. the way your tongue licked the underside of his shaft as your lips dragged against him was too intoxicating and it made him light-headed. fortunately, there was a wall behind him to brace against when he was about to lose balance.

his erection was so stiff, your lips were quick to bruise from the rapid friction against it. he left a dull bitter flavour in your mouth that trickled down your throat which each harsh thrust — it was unpleastant yet you loved it. you begged for more with each impassioned movement.

"shit— you drive me fuckin' crazy, you know that." he wheezed with almost a chuckle. if his dick virtually twitching in your mouth didn't make it obvious enough that he was close, then his mindless garbling certainly must have. "sendin me all those slutty pictures. it's like you wanted this."

he narrows his eyes and squeezes your chin, causing you to falter, "gunna finish me off like a good whore?"

your eyes are watery and crystalline tears poke at your lashline. you answer his question with half of a solemn nod before continuing to bob your head back and forth on his cock, but this time with a fiery desperation he's yet to see from you. tears cascading down your cheeks as you deep-throated his pulsing cock over and over. while saliva clung to his length and stained your cheeks and chin.

soon enough, that determined expression was wiped clean off and replaced with a horrifically lewd one as he comes undone right into your mouth. "fuck, that's it, (y/n). that's right. such a good girl.."

your eyes roll back in your head at the hot instrusion sinking down your throat with a sting. still, suna's fingers were locked in your roots to keep you in place as he bucks into mouth slowly, "yeah.. perfect, baby. swallow it." he says gruffly. you did so, albeit it's not like you had much of a choice.

eventually, he slides his dick out of your mouth and you both watch as strings of saliva keep you linked. you smile, amused, but suna is hasty to sever the connection and stuff his cock back into his trousers.

you gaze at him silently, hands placed neatly on your lap. there's been a sudden shift in his demeanour; he's still panting, but he notices and quirks a brow at you, "what?" he asks, curtly.

"so, are you officially my bitch now?"

[woogilicious]

offline messages ꒰ yunho ꒱

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ pairing: streamer!yunho x gn!reader. ⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ word count: 1039 words. ⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ genre: angst + fluff. ⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ warnings: mild angst, emotional neglect (unintentional), feelings of being left behind, fluff at the end.

You were there before the follower goals, and fancy mic setup. Back when Yunho streamed from a wobbly IKEA desk and his only viewers were you and that one random bot that kept posting shady links.

Back then, his face would light up when he saw your name in chat.

"Yo!" he'd grin, headset slightly tilted. "You're here!"

Of course you were. You always were.

You modded his streams before he even asked. Built his discord server from scratch. Stayed up past midnight helping him troubleshoot lag while playing Valorant. You even tolerated the scream fest during Lethal Company session with San, Mingi, and Wooyoung―all chaos, max volume, all the time.

And when things took off―when Twitch clipped him into the algorithm and the chat exploded with new fans, you celebrated with him. You were proud. You really were.

But you also started feeling... invisible.

It started small. A joke you made in chat went ignored. Then another. Then another.

You chalked it up, at first. That's what growing meant―more people, more chaos. But then he stopped replying to your DMs. Took hours to answer simple messages. And one day, you noticed your mod label was gone. No explanation. No "thanks for everything." Nothing at all.

You watched one of his streams that night, lurking, your name is grey in a sea of neon usernames. Someone made a crude joke. You called it out. Yunho didn't even notice, until a stranger timed you out.

That was the last stream you watched live.

You muted the server. Turned off notifications. Closed the tab. He never reaches out. Not once.

Months passed.

One night, you're scrolling through your phone, brain on autopilot, when you see his name. Yunho is live: Unpacking + chatting. You shouldn't care. You don't.

But you click.

He's streaming Unpacking, of all things. Soft music, quiet atmosphere, just him and the sound of cardboard boxes being emptied on screen. There's no Wooyoung yelling in the background, no San whining about being scared―just Yunho. Focused. A little tired. His laugh softer tonight.

You shouldn't message him.

But your fingers move anyway, finding his name in your message app.

Are you okay?

You send it. Regret it instantly. Consider deleting it, but then―

yunho: wait yunho: wait wait wait yunho: is this real?? yunho: y/n... i thought u blocked me or smth

You stare at the screen, looking at his stream while his attention turns to his phone.

you: figured you wouldn't notice either way yunho: ... yunho: okay. i deserve that. yunho: i miss you. a lot.

You don't reply right away, and you close the Twitch app.

The next day, he sends you a message privately in discord.

yunho: can we talk?

You call. It's weird, at first. The silence between you used to be comfortable, easy. Now it's cautious. Hesitant.

But he tries.

"I don't know when I started messing it up," he says, voice quiet. "I think... I just got caught up in everything. I didn't mean to shut you out."

You shrug, even though he can't see you. "You kind of did, though."

"I know. I just... didn't want you to feel like you had to carry my stuff forever. You helped me so much and I kept thinking, maybe you deserved to just... live your life. Not babysit my stream."

You snort. "You took away my mod role without saying a word. The least you can do is tell me."

He winces. "Yeah. That was stupid."

"You think?"

He laughs. It's small, and it is obvious that he is nervous.

"Let me fix it," he says. "Please."

It's not instant. It's not perfect.

But you start showing up again. Not as a mod, but just as his friend.

He messages you in the middle of the night about weird games you'd both like. Sends you dumb voices notes of Mingi farting on call. You hop into discord during late-night gaming, and he still screams in panic when he gets chased in scary games, but now, he screams your name too.

And one night, he messages:

yunho: do you want to do a stream together soon? you: what would we even play? yunho: idc. minecraft? stardew? anything. i just want to hang out with you on stream.

You agree, and the next night, it's Minecraft night.

The stream starts slow, chill lo-fi music playing in the background. Yunho decides to do a member only stream, which means the chat is smaller, cozier. The mods keep it clean. No chaos whatsoever.

"Special guest tonight, their name is Y/N" Yunho says, grinning. "My oldest friend. Like actual old. We've known each other since middle school."

You laugh. "You're few months older than me."

Chat, on the other hand, explodes with excitement:

xXxgamerraccoon12: brooo you can see yunho smiling like an idiot fluffyhorsie: their voice sounds so soothing!! i love them already!! bananapie481: we need more cozy game with y/n!!

You two fish, farm, fight monsters, collect materials. It's easy.

Halfway through the stream, you forget the camera's even on.

"You're different when it's just us," you say quietly.

Yunho hums. "Different how?"

"Less loud, less performative. More... you."

He doesn't say anything right away, just smiling while mining some woods for their house. Then, softly. "That's because you bring out the parts of me I actually like."

Your chest tightens.

"You know I was really scared," he adds. "That you'd never message me again. That I lost you for good."

You exhale. "You almost did."

"I know."

Silence.

Then, your character walks over and gifts his character a flower.

It's just pixels, but Yunho makes a sound that's a little too real.

"What?"

"What do you mean what? Maybe I just like giving you flowers."

His voice is barely a whisper. "God, I missed you so much."

The stream ends with your character standing next to his inside your finish small cozy wooden house.

Chat's spamming hearts. Fan edit already being posted. People are begging for another duo stream.

Once he turns off his stream, he says, "Don't log off yet."

You stay.

His voice is warm through your headset.

"Let's play another day?"

You smile. "Sure, Yunho. I'll be here."

This time, you know he believes it.

And this time, you do too.

[hannieoftheyear]

WARNING SIGNAL [J.WW]

Two targets you need to figure out, alongside the one person you most despise, and zero mistakes allowed.

In a treacherous turn of events, your most recent mission gets tangled with Wonwoo's, the last person you'd want to partner up with.

As the lives of your targets get more and more intertwined, and your plan gets more complicated, memories of the past and feelings you thought you could put aside threaten to ruin the mission.

pairing: criminal!wonwoo x criminal!fem reader

word count: 26,2k

genre: criminal au, heist au, exes to partners in crime to lovers, violence, angst, smut.

MINORS DON'T INTERACT! YOU'LL BE BLOCKED

content warnings: (read all of them pls, the list is long for a reason): unethical characters, graphic descriptions of violence, vague descriptions of what their "job" is, wonwoo's a menace, betrayal, jealousy, pet names, shitty family dynamics, criminal acts, stalking, spying, manipulation, invasion of privacy (planting microphones, mention of hacking home security cameras), use of fake names, fake identities, stealing, poisoning (not deadly), puke, both wonwoo and mc start fires, use of guns, multiple fight scenes, injuries, blood, murder (implied and explicit), death (not the main characters), happy ending | explicit smut, teasing, manhandling, marking, fingering (f rec.), unprotected penetration (they're stupid, you shouldn't be!), creampie, multiple orgasms.

gentle reminder: this is a fictional work, it doesn't represent how any of the real people mentioned are like in real life

check out my main masterlist ♡ dividers used

note: i really can't believe i wrote this much off of a 5 minute dream i had a year ago

hope you like this, and don't forget to leave your thoughts!

The woman a few tables from yours sighs loudly. She’s been waiting at this almost empty cafe for over half an hour, but the person she’s expecting shows no signs of life. Her lipstick-stained coffee mug sits empty while she stares at the phone in her hand, annoyed more than anything else. Her curly auburn hair tied in an elegant bun is now a little disheveled compared to when she walked in. She’s dressed way too nicely for this run-down cafe, with high-heels that could trigger your fear of heights and a floor-length scarlet dress, matching her glam makeup that was definitely done by a professional makeup artist. The looks she receives from the cafe staff evidence how out of place she is. 

The waiter comes up to her table to get her the check, but she ushers him away as her ringtone echoes across the room. You barely hear the words leaving her lips, but her tired expression and desperate-like body language gives it away. 

She rolls her eyes, mad at the person on the other side of the line, and throws a couple of bills on the table, grabbing her big purse tightly as she walks away in a rush. You do the same, in a less showy way, thanking the staff as you step out the door. The sky marvels in a dark shade of azure, the sun setting behind the tall buildings. The wave of people makes it hard to focus, but you see the red hair a few meters ahead and follow it. 

People bump into you as you rush past them, and a few shouts are directed your way, but pedestrian education is not a priority right now. The woman steps into a mall without looking back, blocks away from the original meet up place. It’s a gallery-like mall, with very few shops open and even fewer people doing the shopping. Two out of three ceiling lights don’t work, and the AC hums a little too loudly in the hallway, contributing to the eerie atmosphere. 

You maintain your distance, close enough to track her movements but far enough so she won’t notice a presence shadowing her. She doesn’t look lost nor appalled, like she knows exactly where the person over the phone told her to go, like it’s not her first time going in there. 

When she finally steps into a tattoo shop, your feet direct you to the one just in front, an antique store that’s so empty, it doesn’t even have a cashier on the clock at the moment. The lights are just dim enough so that you’re well hidden from the outside, contrary to the tattoo place, with blinding white led lights that allow you to see every detail of what’s happening inside. The man that opened the glass door for her checks the hallway before closing the door and putting up the closed sign. 

From where you stand, behind some old clocks and piles of yellow-paged books, you have a perfect view of the woman’s interaction with the sketchy man. She opens her purse, which she was protecting vigorously at the café, and shows him what’s in it with a smirk. But before he has the chance to sneak his hand in, she hides the bag behind her back and tells him something you can’t quite decipher, but it definitely annoys him. 

“Found what you were looking for?” 

A voice right behind you triggers your fight response, but the sight of the man behind you causes nothing more than disgust. 

“Not with your help, that’s for sure.” 

Your eyes roll almost on instinct as you keep surveilling the interaction on the other side of the hallway, trying your best to ignore the annoying presence that’s now by your side. 

“I know you don’t need any help.” 

It’s unclear whether he means it or not. 

“It sure doesn’t look like it.” Your eyes don’t leave your target for a second more, you need more information on this man she’s meeting, but the human of the same specimen behind you is getting on your nerves simply by existing around your personal space. “What are you doing here?” 

“Doing my job, what else would I be doing?” 

That’s funny. 

“So now your job is to keep tabs on me and make sure I don’t screw up?” 

“Listen, this might not be easy for you to understand, but not everything I do revolves around you.” 

“Really? Then why is it that you followed me here? Enlighten me.” 

“Your first mistake is thinking I followed you. I’ve been here for over half an hour.” Your mouth agapes for a second before you realize that you just showed him how surprised you were. “You didn’t see me when you came in? Either I got better or you got worse, don’t know which one I prefer.” The smirk translates clearly through his words. 

“I was too focused and didn’t inspect the room, blah blah, I don’t need a lecture, especially not from you.” 

You take your second phone and start snapping pictures of the meet up after checking the flash isn’t on. 

“Why are you here?” 

“I’m doing my job, Wonwoo, Isn’t it obvious?” 

You’re usually cautious when saying someone’s name on the job, but you’re tired, enough time dealing with the bullshit he left behind to put up with him any longer. 

“No, I’m doing this job.” 

“The fuck does that mean?” 

You finally turn to him, annoyed, angry, drained. You haven’t seen him in months, and you weren’t planning on ever seeing him again. Not since the damn day he almost got you killed. And this is your very first interaction? Him taking over your assignment? Like hell you’re gonna let him. 

“I’m in charge of Elias over there.” 

His eyes point to the same tattoo shop, and you don’t even have to look back before the neurons in your brain click. You could be relaxed that he’s not after the same person as you, but that just means your jobs are, once again, intertwined. 

“I’m in charge of Cecilia over there.” He understands immediately. 

You don’t tell him the real reason you're after Cecilia, and he doesn’t tell you anything about Elias either. 

“Well, this is sure gonna be fun.” 

“This is not gonna be anything.” 

Thinking of working with him again puts a bad taste in your mouth, alerting you that it wouldn’t turn out to be a good choice. 

“I have all the info on the man you need, you have all the info on the woman I need, c'mon, don’t make this harder than it has to be.” 

“You don’t have anything I can’t get on my own.” 

The white light suddenly turns off, leaving only the few working hallway light bulbs to see into the mall, and both of you turn your heads to the side. The man and the woman split up, heading opposite ways, walking as fast as they could, away from each other, from the mall and from you. 

In a rush of getting away from the antique shop, and a new need to do this job better, your feet set to keep following the redhead on her way back, but a hand grabs your wrist as soon as you step foot out the door. 

“C’mon baby, don’t get mad at me.” Baby? You haven’t heard that from him in a while. 

The cold wall hits your back as Wonwoo puts his hand on the side you almost use to escape. He's too close. But why? The familiar cologne he’s obsessed with is already reaching all your surroundings, and he’s all you can see. 

“I know I should’ve asked you before but,” this interaction is getting more and more confusing, and you can only stare at him, puzzled and angry, “Don’t you think that cute elephant statue would look good in our home?” 

You almost chuckle before you realize he’s doing a bit. He noticed something's off and is putting up an act to cover for the both of you. His arms hide your faces just perfectly from any prying eyes. 

“You can’t just spend ten thousand dollars without telling me!” His face doesn’t change, but a glimmer of satisfaction flashes through his eyes. “What about the money we’re saving for the baby?” 

“I already told you! My podcast is about to take off and I’ll be a millionaire in no time! You have to trust me!” A cackle fights to get out, but you quickly overcome it. 

“You’ve been saying that for over two years! You have three listeners! And one of them is your mom!” 

“She told me she’ll get her knitting friends to listen too, we’re going to be popular with the ladies!” 

Wonwoo shifts away from you slightly, that way you’re able to see into the hallway and check if it’s empty already. 

“They’re gone.” 

Your hand pushes his chest away and he stumbles back with a chuckle. You don’t want to stay and hear what he has to say, and your legs are already walking in the woman’s direction. It’s not in your plans to ever get involved again with Wonwoo, and there’s nothing he could possibly have gathered about that man that you can’t also find out. 

“C’mon, don’t be like that.” 

“The bit is over Wonwoo, go home.” 

“Let’s just work together, one last time.” His voice reaches closer and closer from behind you, until you stop walking and force yourself to face him. 

“Not only do I not need your help, I especially don’t want it.” 

You couldn’t trust him even if you got offered a million dollars, if you were in a desert and he was the only person with a glass of water. That thrill he used to feel when you worked together, that he’s dying to get back, you’re making sure he doesn’t come close to feeling again. It’s unbelievable that he's even offering it so nonchalantly, like all of this wasn’t his fault to begin with. 

“Look, I’m not asking you to forgive me, just–” He appears to have regretted what he was about to say, and you don’t wait for him to gather his thoughts. 

“Just what? Understand it? We’re way past that don’t you think?” 

From all the times he tried to apologize before you cut him off completely, this must be the most outrageous one. How could you possibly understand getting betrayed by the one person you trusted the most, who you once thought was the love of your life. 

“We’re good together,” your brain glitches with astonishment before he corrects himself, “We always worked better when we did these jobs together, you know that.” 

“You have some serious nerve, after last time, the least I should do is rat you out right this second.” 

“You wouldn’t do that, it’s not your style.” His brow quirks, like he must think he's being funny 

“To fuck over my partners? No, that’s yours.” 

He's trying to charm his way into your life again, like the past few months could disappear at the flash of a smile, and you'll be damned if you let him.  

“Let’s just… see it as a mere trade of information, nothing more.” Neither his voice nor his expression suggests that he’s trying to deceive you, and you hate that you're even considering his offer so quickly. 

If the years of knowing him help you for anything, it’s to realize that under the layers of teasing, he’s desperate for your help. There’s a large probability of him already encountering you over the time passed, but he chose now to get close to you again, to ask for your help, in his own way. 

“And I wouldn’t have to see your face ever again after?” 

His smirk grows, knowing what your question means. “That would be your loss, but sure. One last job and we’d be done.” 

“Are you being serious?” 

It’s hard to trust him, no matter how much he insists it’s his only goal. But it’s true that whatever knowledge he collected on that dude would save you a lot of time and resources, and you have to do this job well to prove yourself again. 

“Dead serious. I promise.” 

A year before.

  The waitress, with purple bags under her eyes and bleach blonde hair tied up in a bun on the edge of falling undone, sighed on the way to tell the same client, for the fourth time in two hours, that it was prohibited to smoke inside the establishment. You saw that man doing countless other illegal things while sitting in that same dark booth the entire night, but the bar drew the line at smoking indoors. 

He huffed at her, but ultimately put the cigarette out against the wood table. There were less and less people the more the time passed, and soon enough, it was going to be too suspicious for you to still be there. You couldn’t be the only customer left in the bar when he left, but the person he was still waiting for was the key to all this, and you couldn’t leave without that information. 

An ‘80s country song started playing on the radio, and the man started tapping his fingers against the table, following the rhythm of the classic. It was almost serene, the way he relaxed at the sound of the familiar tune, but the night started to feel more and more like a waste of time. Whatever the deal was with the person who wasn’t showing up, it was clearly not happening. 

“Can I buy you a drink?” A familiar figure sat in front of you at the secluded booth you kidnapped for the whole night. But the smile that appeared on your face at him quickly dissipated. 

“You shouldn’t be here, it’s too empty.” Besides the staff, you and the old man, there were only three people inside the dusty bar at that time, all alone, too drunk and on the brink of leaving. It was almost impossible to not stand out in that crowd. 

“Don’t worry, I called in a few favors.” Just as Wonwoo finished his sentence, a group of at least ten men, talking loudly and in the mood to celebrate something, walked into the tiny bar, disrupting the serenity but providing you with much needed cover. 

“You’re so... resourceful.” Your words mixed with a giggle as the atmosphere changed from calm and musty to a playful bachelor-esque party inside the bar. “How did you know I was here?” 

“I always know where you are, baby.” A chill climbed up your spine at his teasing smile. “And also, I was waiting for a guy to show up here, he’s supposed to be meeting someone.” 

The loud laugh that escaped you almost beat the drunk shouting of the bachelors in volume. It was easy to connect the dots, and it also wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. 

“You know something I don’t?” Wonwoo’s eyes didn’t stray away from the smile on your lips. 

You just giggled as your eyes darted towards the sketchy old man, who was back to smoking seeing that the staff’s attention was focused on the new customers. You could feel Wonwoo’s gaze stay on you for a second before following yours, and the realization hit him quickly, the years of working together serving their purpose. 

“Yours?” The amusement in his voice made you nod eagerly, sipping on the mocktail that had been sitting untouched on the table for over an hour. “It’s been a while.” 

This job, the thing that you do for a living, got lonely every now and then. Doing everything on your own, not being able to share it with the people closest to you, can take a toll on anyone, no matter how detached they're able to get. So, when you got a chance to work with the one you love, you were for sure gonna take it. 

“I know, it’s gonna be fun.”  

Hidden in the back seat of the car, guarded by the polarized windows, your breath is controlled and eyes are focused as you see into the first-floor window of the house across the street. There stands Cecilia, being very expressive while talking to a person standing just by the sheer curtain, making it impossible for you to see them. 

She’s walking back and forth around the room, switching between listening attentively to the other person and giving feedback. Behind her, there’s a large desk filled with incomplete paperwork and empty water bottles, but the particular clean envelope you’ve been observing for days catches your attention. It looks so out of place there. 

Cecilia's face lights up as she receives a call and answers it staring happily at the person in front of her. The call ends quickly after, not a lot of talking done, but she looks satisfied with what she heard. 

As she grabs the envelope to read the message inside, the other person stands close to her, his face still not visible from your point of view. Taking in account all you have gathered, his height and deep black hair with a fresh undercut, plus what Wonwoo sent you over these past few days, that man most probably is Elias. 

Adjusting your position just slightly, you try to get a better look at the envelope that’s now in the hands of your target. You take your phone out, camera settings at the highest possible quality and flash turned off, so you can later analyze every detail. Only a few pictures save on your gallery before they turn the lights off and step out that room into the inside of the house you can’t see. 

You can’t help feeling like you’re not the only one outside on the street, but after a quick look around the empty road and sidewalk, nothing seems out of place. The parked cars were all there way before you got here, and not a soul walks on either side. But that warning signal on the back of your mind doesn’t turn off. And it turns out you’re right, because a knock on the window makes you jump. 

Wonwoo stands just outside the passenger seat, hands inside his pockets and an insufferable smug expression. 

“How the fuck did you find me? This isn’t even my car.” 

“I still know all your tactics babe, now would you let me in? We need to talk.” You know it’s not safe for him to stand out there for too long, where anyone could notice him, so you open the door to the back seats of the car and reluctantly let Wonwoo in. “Wait, you didn’t see me? You really don’t know how to look out, don’t you?” You’re sure you can see the inside of your skull from how hard you roll your eyes. He’s so fucking smug about everything, you’d punch him. 

“Why did you come here? You could’ve been seen.” If Wonwoo knew where you were, you can only assume he’s been surveilling Elias all day too, and came to Cecilia’s house just after him. 

“I wanted to have a little meeting, and they aren’t watching right now.” Great. He’s not going to leave the car anytime soon. 

“Fine, what did you want to talk about?” With him, sometimes it's better to accept defeat and do whatever he wants so it ends faster. 

“What is it that she has that you’re after?” You haven’t had that conversation, and it's surprising that he’s even bringing it up. 

“We aren’t allowed to discuss that and you know it.” You aren’t looking at him, choosing to keep your eyes on the house in case anything happens. There aren’t really rules when it comes to two separate jobs getting involved with one another, but you’ve learned the hard way that it makes things messy. 

“There are a lot of things we're doing that we aren’t supposed to.” 

“It’s not relevant to the plan.” 

“C’mon, why don't you wanna tell me?” You know he’s pouting, because he’s not getting what he wants and to try to convince you, but that doesn’t work anymore. 

“Why do you wanna know so badly? Is there something in it for you?” 

“We're working together and I’m just curious.” 

“Well, like I said, it’s not relevant, and it’s nothing I haven’t done before.” 

“You’ve done a lot of things, that doesn’t narrow it down much.” 

“Just drop it will you? You don't see me asking about yours.” For the first time in your life, he actually shuts up when you ask him to. 

Finally in silence again, you can watch the house in peace as Wonwoo gets more bored by the second. Cecilia and Elias have been doing god knows what on the back of the house for a while now, but the security cameras she has set up are easily hackable, and if anything happens, you have that last resort. 

“How have you been?” Wonwoo doesn’t last and disrupts the silent atmosphere in a matter of minutes. 

His lazy try to get on your good side again doesn’t go ignored. But sometimes, you wish he’d do something different, prove that you can actually trust him, not engaging in meaningless talking to make you unconsciously open up. 

“I’m busy, Wonwoo.” 

“Nothing’s happening.” 

“Well then, I don’t want to talk to you.” Working alongside Wonwoo is barely something manageable, you’re not about to engage in whatever “friendly” conversation he wishes for. 

“Are you seeing someone? Is that why you don’t want to talk to me?” He can’t be serious. 

“Sure, that’s why. Not because you fucking ruined my life.” You try to be cold, you try to be dry and not let him get to you, but his nerve is astonishing. 

“How many times do I have to tell you? I did it becaus–” 

“And how many times do I have to say that I don’t care? You chose to set me up, you chose to betray me. You can’t expect me to be all smiley and nice and talk to you like you’re my friend.” 

“I just want to know how you’re doing, it’s good that you’re working again.” You’d kick him out of your car if it wasn’t for the unwanted attention you’d receive. 

“You don’t deserve to know anything about my life, not anymore.” 

“I know I don't.” A glimpse of something similar to regret flashes through his factions, but there’s no time to question it. 

A loud sound and two voices draw your attention back to the house, and you both instinctively crouch on your seat. Cecilia and Elias get into his car and drive away fast, not looking back. But you’re not in a rush to follow them, as the most important information at the moment is currently in your gallery. The pictures you took of the envelope aren’t the best, but if you zoom just a little, you could make out the words. 

“Should we follow them?” 

“I think I know where they’re going.” He doesn’t respond, but rather looks at you in silence expecting you to tell him everything without asking. You don’t forget to roll your eyes before answering, “Like I told you yesterday, she got this envelope in the mail a few days ago, and has been keeping it safe until your guy got here this morning.” 

You show him that you managed to take pictures of it, knowing he’s thinking to himself that they’re blurry as hell. But before he could take a real look, you snatch your phone away. 

“So? What does it say?” Wonwoo’s deep voice goes through one ear and out the other. You’re trying to enhance the picture and he only wants to bother you, making a whole show while moving around on the back seat to sit closer to you. 

“It’s an invitation to some kind of event, it might be where they’re doing the exchange. Do you think the boss can–” 

“Get us an invitation? Yeah, I'm on it.” He’s already grabbing his phone to make the call before you finish talking. 

The warning signal reappears at the back of your mind at the interaction. Is Wonwoo calmly going to let the boss know you’re working together again? Does your boss already know? But there’s no way he'd be okay with that. Suddenly, very little makes sense, and the paranoia invades your every thought. But Wonwoo gets his call picked up, and he can't notice you going crazy.  

“Invitations,” you make sure to highlight the ‘s’ at the end as you show him the finally enhanced photo, “looks like a week-long fancy thing, hope you have clothes that don’t look like they haven’t been washed in over a week.” 

“I fixed my washing machine.” He covers the phone’s microphone to whisper and then continues explaining the details to the event. Something stings deep down. A remainder of how things used to be between you. When you could trust him. When you loved him. When you thought he loved you too. 

“That’s good.” No snarky response this time. Only a bigger need for the interaction, and the job, to be over so you can go back to your Wonwoo-less life. 

The key turned with a click sound, almost impossible to hear with all the noise that was coming from inside the apartment. Thudding sounds, like a machine stumping on the ground and against the walls, and a string of curses filled your ears as you took the first steps inside. The wired hanger on your hand, heavy with fancy clothes for that night, dropped flat on the couch when you saw the door to the laundry room was open, noises and curses getting louder and louder the closer you got to it. The floor leading to the room was shiny, covered in what seemed to be soapy dirty water. 

“Fuck! This fucking machine!” 

Wonwoo was kneeling on the floor, pants completely wet and hands scooping foam out of the washing machine as the dryer shook furiously to the rhythm of his curses. A few wet clothing items were scattered around the dirty floor, while the rest hid under all the bubbles Wonwoo fought to get out, even if it seemed that every time he took a scoop out, the mountain of dirty foam only got bigger. 

He didn’t hear you come in, helplessly focused on cleaning up as best he could, and getting more and more frustrated in the process. He scrunched his nose in confusion at something, his glasses slipped further down his nose, and his instinct told him to fix them with his foam-covered hand, resulting in a cute boop of bubbles on the tip of his nose. 

Your giggle shot his head to look your way, with a pout that almost made you hate the metal artifact causing him trouble. His body relaxed immediately at the sight of you, and he sat down on the floor, completely giving up his task. 

“What happened here?” Your words came out mixed with tiny giggles, increasing his pout by 100%. Kneeling on the floor by his side, the dirty water cooled your legs uncomfortably. 

“I think I need a new washer.” He wrapped his arms around your waist, laying you down on his lap so you wouldn’t be able to escape when his hand approached your face and left a matching blob of foam on your nose. “Or maybe, you can finally let me move into your apartment and then I won't have any problems.” 

“Acting like you weren’t the one who told me ‘We can’t baby, it’s too dangerous’ when I asked!” Your impression of his low voice triggered a smile across Wonwoo’s face, and an irresistible urge to lower his head and connect his lips with yours. 

“You’re right, but I was also right.” You didn’t care that he brushed your hair back with his wet fingers, caught up in the look in his eyes as he said those words, warm yet hurt, with thoughts racing through them that couldn’t be vocalized. He was right, you both knew your relationship would never be normal, yet still chose to move forward with it, hoping that your love for each other would be enough. 

“Do you have anything clean for tonight?” Ignoring that one aspect of your relationship became the number one rule for you, not ready for what thinking too much about it could result in. 

“There’s the black shirt I wore yesterday.” His eyes didn’t leave your face, scanning it as if trying to remember every little detail. 

“Babe,” your head tilted against his thigh with judgement, “you fixed your car yesterday.” 

“So? The oil is basically the same color as the shirt, you can’t even see it.” He laughed, knowing it wasn’t true. 

“Let’s just hope it’s dark inside so no pretentious douchebag from that side of town can notice.” He chuckled at your little rant, and the sound almost made you forget what you were saying. 

“I love how mad you get at rich people.” Forgetting the time crunch and the state of the room you were in, Wonwoo flipped you onto the wet floor, his lips quickly taking over yours as he slotted between your legs. 

The easiness in which he had you melting for him, not caring about your uncomfortable wet back against the cold floor, was your one and only weakness. There were no problems when your limbs were tangled with his, when his chest flushed against yours and your breathings synchronized. 

But the outside world didn’t care about your little bubble, and when a new wave of foam rushed out of the washing machine, you were forced to stop whatever the kiss was growing into. Getting up in between laughs and unplugging the machine, the need to shower outgrew the pounding of your heart. 

“I’m going to take a shower and get dressed, you should do the same or we’ll be late.” Your wrist got taken when you started walking away, and Wonwoo twirled you back until you were in his arms again. 

“I’m happy to join you if that’s what you’re saying.” Your head fell back with a smile, but before you could reply, his hands tightened on your waist, “It’s to save time!” You both knew it wasn’t true, but you were unable to say no to him, and he was unable to keep his hands off of you for too long. 

Doesn’t matter how many you infiltrate, the events that rich people attend only to show off their money will always amaze you. 

You've studied the way these people dress, talk, walk, act, everything. And you manage to blend in seamlessly, stepping out of the limousine in your mahogany floor-length dress, the driver’s hand waiting to take yours and help you out, and one of the hotel's staff getting your bag out the trunk. Rich people don’t carry bags, don’t drive their own car, and they especially don’t waste the opportunity to wear their most expensive luxury clothing to any event they’re invited to. 

There’s little to no media coverage, not even one camera pointing at the people getting off the cars, weird judging the size of the event and the long list of attendees you were sent earlier, but at least it saves you the effort of disguising and keeping a low profile. 

The act starts as soon as both of your feet are on the ground and your rented limousine drives away. Paying no attention to your surroundings, walking as nonchalantly as you can, you follow the obnoxious red carpet laid on the way to the hotel’s entrance. These arrangements can get so corny sometimes. 

Inside the reception, at least fifty people are scattered around the entire floor, either sitting on the many expensive looking couches and matching chairs, or walking to their rooms with their personal luggage boy behind them. Not one face surprises you, no one you knew was in the invitation list, and you did background checks on anyone that sounded suspicious. Everyone’s just another millionaire stranger that doesn’t know they’re a piece in your game. 

The long reception desk has no line, and the workers behind it seem already bored of everything going on. You take the chance to go up to them and get your room key. 

“Good evening mam, how may I help you?” The blonde girl straightens her posture when she sees you walk up to her. 

“Hi!” Looking straight into her eyes, she visibly relaxes at your loosened-up demeanor, contrasting to every previous person she’s helped during the day. “Could I just get my room keys? I can’t stand this any longer, I need to go and take a nap.” 

No one here is being kind nor nice to them, and that’s the key to getting the staff's trust. Stand out, talk to them like they’re people, and most importantly, don’t portray that obnoxious rich person's personality. 

“Of course! Could I get your last name?” 

“Roberts, Marissa Roberts, with two ‘s’.” Your fake ID is in your hand, ready for the girl to take, but she ignores it, going straight to look you up in the system. 

While she goes to look for your room card through the endless pile of rooms that haven’t checked in yet, a strong presence stands beside you, speaking to the other receptionist. His voice manages to reach your ears even with all the murmur around you. 

You don’t want to look at him, turning your head and acknowledging his presence now is too risky. But when the redheaded receptionist goes back to find his room card, leaving you alone at the desk, he’s the one that faces you, giving you no choice but to follow his lead. 

“Nice day, huh?” You can’t ignore him, it’ll be weirder if you don’t reply. 

“It’s cloudy with a 90% chance of rain.” Trying your best to sound as dry and not interested as possible, you eye him for a split of a second before the receptionist brings back his key. What’s taking so long with yours? 

“You staying for the whole charity week?” You know the act he’s trying to put up. Planting the idea that he’s interested in you so it won’t be suspicious when you talk during the different events taking place over the week. 

“Yeah,” luckily, you’re interrupted by the blonde receptionist finally bringing your room key, and by an impatient man standing behind Wonwoo, huffing when he doesn’t immediately move, keeping the newly formed line from moving. 

“I’ll be seeing you then.” He’s then off with a wink and enchanted sighs from both of the girls behind the desk. 

You used to be like them, easily swooned by his natural charm. His deep, teasing voice could make even the meanest and coldest soul fall to their knees. You used to love hearing it, be it in small talk over coffee as you got to know each other, cleverly planning a robbery you were hired to do together, with his arm around your shoulders as he softly talked to drift you to sleep, or whispering dirty nothings in your ear with his body pressed against yours. Now, there was nothing. Even hatred was starting to fade away, leaving nothing but indifference. You don’t care if he’s happy or sad, alive or dead, you only care about finishing the job and moving on with your life. 

As you’re being handed your card, the nostalgia for something that can no longer exist rubs off your body, and you see the opportunity to continue the act. 

“What room is he staying in?” You try to sound as playful as possible, pretending you were just playing hard to get. Because you’re aware that, not only the receptionists, but also the boy carrying your bag just behind you and probably a few people down the line, heard the whole interaction. 

“We can’t disclose the guests’ information.” She seems more friendly now, but it’s better not to push your luck for now. 

“Right, sorry yeah, I totally get it. Guess I’ll have to find him tonight.” She chuckles as you walk away, heading for the elevator to go up to the 6th floor. 

The room was carefully chosen, on the same floor, same hallway as Cecilia's, but not the one right in front of hers, so you can keep tabs on her without being too obvious. Room 606, just above 506, where Wonwoo's staying, same floor and hallway as his target, just like you. 

There’s one hour left before the welcoming toast, the first event of many to come, and where everything begins. The countdown of days until the final night, the charity auction that could potentially change your life. 

The hotel’s dining hall is arranged with hundreds of tables, with matching scarlet chairs and big beautiful centerpieces. A theater-like stage catches your attention, with the curtains pulled down as if you were here for a show. But your amazement for the grandness of the place is cut short due to the realization that no one else coming in is giving the room a second look. They’re not surprised, they’re used to these kinds of things, and you have to become one of them. 

With short and slow steps, you analyze the room you’ll be spending plenty of time in, remembering any possible hiding spots and ways out, blind spots, and if possible, your target’s favorite tables to hang out at. 

In the look for her auburn hair, you see her figure sitting at one of the tables right on the center of the hall, talking with a short-haired woman. Her black bob so perfect that one would think she just cut it before coming down. It seems to be a fairly nice conversation, not a lot of smiling, but there’s not one second where they’re in silence. You’ll do some digging on her once you’re back in your room. 

Cecilia has her back turned on the table right by her side, where Elias is sitting, listening to a few old men in dark blue suits. They’re pretending to not know each other, but why? He looks bored, nodding when one of the men looks at him for confirmation, and checking his watch way too often. Either he’s wishing for the conversation to be over, or he’s waiting for something. 

Like clockwork, a younger guy, just as tall as Elias but with honey blond hair and thick black rim glasses, approaches his table and asks if he can talk to him privately. More relaxed, Elias apologizes profusely and walks away with the new guy. You don’t see him, but you know Wonwoo is trailing behind them. You’ll ask him about that later, but for now, it’s time for you to do your part. 

The one and only rule you’re given when doing these jobs is simple: you can’t engage with your target. You can’t talk to them, maybe a polite nod or a ‘thank you’ if absolutely necessary, according to the interaction, but in no way you can have a conversation with them. You’re given the liberty of planning, you can ask for help if needed, but you must remain a stranger to your target. It seems fairly easy, but there are cases like these, where there’s so much noise not even sitting at a table less than two feet away is close enough for you to hear the conversation. Sometimes using a little loophole is inevitable. 

A quick glance at Cecilia’s table provides you with what you need. Her slightly open purse is hanging loosely by her arm, and any time someone passes by and bumps into it, she doesn’t even feel it. As she stands up to go ask for another drink, her fourth one of the night, your opportunity arises. 

You get up, grabbing a random empty champagne glass from your table, and start walking with very little balance. Your steps almost intertwine with Cecilia’s, and when you almost trip, you pretend to grab onto her arm and slip a tiny microphone inside her purse. The device looks and works exactly like an airpod, but it’ll send hourly recordings straight to your second phone for 24 hours. 

Cecilia barely pays attention to you, and you apologize right after getting up, but she doesn’t even look at you, just continues with her walk and shares a weird look with her friend. No one around you really notices the interaction, and even if they did, they’ll forget by tomorrow. 

As you look up from the floor, the first thing you see is Wonwoo, and he raises his eyebrows teasingly when your gazes connect. Your first instinctive reaction is to roll your eyes. You hate to be observed, and even if this is a tactic you’ve done a few times with his knowledge, it feels almost taunting to see him so composed after not having to break the rules to listen to his target. 

The bar by the door calls your name, and now that you have a way of spying on Cecilia’s conversations from afar, you let yourself have one singular drink. But the time of peace you thought you could have is interrupted. 

“Can I have one of what she’s having?” Wonwoo’s voice sounds dangerously close to you, and when you look to your side, your suspicions are correct, as he’s sitting on the barstool to your right. 

You always wondered how he managed to do this job. The key thing is always to blend in, be forgettable, not draw attention, and he does none of those things. Wonwoo is tall and broad and the suits he wears always fit him just right, quickly making him receive lust-filled stares and dreamy sighs, and he walks around leaving a trail of people in awe because of his looks. Tonight is no exception. The woman sitting at the other end of the bar is eyeing him like he’s a piece of candy, but he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, focusing on you until you make eye contact. 

“Cheers.” He lifts the drink the bartender just gave him, not even sparing her one glance, and she walks away to serve other people, disappointed after not getting his attention. You give him a light nod and lift your drink as well in acknowledgment. “So, what brings you here?” 

“Aren’t we all here for the same reason?” You speak softly, with a light smirk meant to tease him. He knows you’re forced to follow his lead, but if this is the act he wants to put out, you’re not going to make it that easy. 

“I was hoping you’d say for me.” Wonwoo's words actually surprise you, his sultry tone making your stomach turn against your will, like it has countless times before because of him. 

“I don’t even know your name.” You chuckle lightly and sip on your drink, to check on your surroundings but also to avoid Wonwoo’s eyes. 

“Ryan, Ryan Cohen, pleasure to meet you.” Wonwoo grabs your hand and kisses the top of it. 

Surrounded by people who must believe your act, and the combination of alcohol and an empty stomach in your system blurs the lines just a tiny bit. Nothing is letting you react the way you thought it would to him pulling off something like this. The lines are there for a reason, and the act it’s still just that, an act. You won’t forget what he did to you. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Ryan,” from the corner of your eye, you see Cecilia leaving the hall with a man you haven’t seen before, and that new problem rapidly escalates to the top of your priorities, “but unfortunately, I’m calling a night for today. I have important business to do tomorrow.” 

“Wait, I didn’t get your name!” He really nails the put together yet slightly desperate persona. 

“I’ll see you around.” You only smirk before turning around and disappearing from his sight. 

You’re finally able to breathe correctly when you leave the dinner hall. The heavy atmosphere was starting to make you hallucinate things. For a split of a second, you forgot the real reason you were there, and that can’t happen. 

To go upstairs, you wait until the elevator where Cecilia and mystery man hopped on closes its doors, and then you go and press the button to go up. It wouldn’t be weird if it was just a hookup, as it's a normal thing to happen at these kinds of cocktail events, but you still should check it out. 

The bouncer at the door crossed his arms with a deadly poker face, shaking his head after Wonwoo’s third plea to let him come in. 

You knew his obviously dirty clothes weren’t gonna do it. The people in line, all wearing luxury clothing to present themselves as something worthy, looked at him up and down multiple times, judging him and commenting about his horrendous outfit with their friends. Even a few pity looks were thrown your way. People at those types of clubs cared too much about looks, about wearing the perfect expensive outfit for their night out. You looked the part, choosing your bougiest outfit and searching for all the make-up trends at that time, almost as if expecting to be on the VIP list. 

Your view was blocked by the security’s broad tall back. Barely inside the club, the loud music was making the walls tremble and the neon lights even reached the street below Wonwoo’s feet.  

With your best glittery eyes, you placed your hand on the bouncer’s heavy shoulder, making him turn back slightly. Two whispers after, and a promise to come back with more girl friends, he let Wonwoo in with a huff and a warning. 

“What did you say to him?” 

Every step forward you took turned the volume of the music up, and Wonwoo had to crouch to whisper in your ear. His arm wrapped around your waist, keeping you close to him in the crowded club. It felt too intimate for a public place, but that was usual for him. 

“Nothing you wanna know.” You giggled as you saw the man you had been following, sitting on a burgundy couch all the way on the back of the club, smoking alone, waiting for Wonwoo's guy. 

“I’ll make sure he knows you’re taken, so he doesn’t make any moves on you.” Wonwoo’s hands held the sides of your waist, turning you to the side and bringing your bodies closer. The blue, pink and green lights dancing at the rhythm of the music reflected on his beautiful face, with a serious yet teasing expression as his eyes lightly glared at the back, letting you know he also saw your guy. “Should we dance?” 

“Of course! We’re in a club!” There wasn’t much to do besides waiting. You wouldn’t be able to hear what they were saying anyway. The most important task was seeing how they interacted with each other, and Wonwoo’s guy seemed to be always late. What harm could be done by having a little fun? 

Your hand took his, walking further inside the room enveloped in a newly effervescent tension, looking for the best place to dance and surveil the men on the wine-colored couches. The drunk people surrounding you moved in slow motion, different bodies pressed against one another and dancing with no rhythm, giving you much needed cover. From where you were standing, the faint smell of the cigarette of your target could reach you every few minutes, mixing with the smell of sweat and expensive drinks. 

Wonwoo found your waist again, pressing your back against his chest and swaying your bodies from left to right. His lips grazed the side of your ear, letting his breath tickle the side of your face teasingly, and his hands traveled around your body with little shame, blending into the sea of horny couples and sticky bodies making out. 

Covered by the darkness of the place, and with the excuse of fitting in, his hips were grinding against your ass, breathing heavily to the random song the dj was playing. Wonwoo’s target walked in, wide eyes as he tensely looked for anything out of place. He seemed paranoid, playing with his hands as he sat in front of the old man. You went unnoticed, as Wonwoo began leaving wet kisses on the side of your neck, and any eyes going over the crowd would just ignore you, like you were just another drunk couple. 

The bargaining appeared fairly pacific, a back and forth between the two men, so out in the open it wasn't going to turn violent. And when Wonwoo’s hands pushed your hips harder against his, you couldn’t stop your head from falling back onto his shoulders and letting him do anything he wanted. It was easy to get lost in the feeling of him, your bodies pressed together as you surveilled essentially nothing. 

A ripple burst through the packed dance floor. A man pushing groups of people away and not budging in the slightest bumped against Wonwoo, knocking one of his arms off your body. The tall man didn’t look back, and Wonwoo was fuming. 

“Just let it go, assholes like that are everywhere.” 

You knew Wonwoo didn’t take those things lightly, so as soon as you saw him even thinking of going after the guy, you grabbed his wrist and turned him back your way. 

“I wasn't gonna do anything!” Your head tilted to the side, not convinced. “Fine, I was just going to calmly teach him how to say ‘excuse me’.” 

“Sure you were.” 

His chest relaxed under your palms as you stood on your tiptoes to give him a peck. But the softness of his lips glued you to them longer than you initially expected, and his hands on your back melted into you, keeping you close to him. 

“I’m gonna head to the toilet for a sec, don’t go after that security guy.” Your eyes were still closed, chasing his lips as he talked. 

“I won’t if you don’t punch that guy.” It was hard letting his hand go as he walked into the sea of people and away from you. But in that moment, maybe it was best to separate before you got too sucked into your bubble. 

The bargaining between the two men stayed boring, endless talking about whatever the topics changed into. You sat on the bar, sipping on a cold glass of water, waiting for anything even remotely interesting to happen. From the corner of your eye, the guy that bumped into you caught your attention as he came out of the bathroom, and emergency sirens immediately started blasting at the back of your mind. There was no waiting line, so maybe he didn’t come across Wonwoo, you thought. 

But the next exchange you witnessed left you more uncertain than anything else. A bald man you had never seen before walked out of the restroom, Wonwoo following behind him with a noticeable frown. The strange man appeared to be in a rush to get away from him, but Wonwoo grabbed the man’s wrist harshly and turned him to look at him again. Wonwoo’s lips moved fast, saying too much in very little time, and the bad lighting made it harder for you to even try to understand what he was saying. The mystery man gulped hard and nodded with wide eyes, almost like he feared Wonwoo. 

Something seemed out of place, but the little voice inside your head told you not to question Wonwoo about it. You forced your eyes away from the interaction to see that both of your targets were getting ready to leave, and you waited until Wonwoo came back while your mind raced, thinking of every possibility of what that could’ve been about. Maybe he would tell you when he sat by your side, maybe it was nothing and you were being paranoid. But a sweet kiss on your cheek was all you got, and an arm naturally wrapping around your waist as you left the bar together, like nothing happened. 

A final quick glance inside the club made your stomach drop to the floor as you could’ve sworn you saw, blurred by the frenetic neon lights and the people dancing, the bald man sitting right beside your target, whispering something to him.

Spending an entire night surveilling audio footage from Cecilia’s hook-up wasn’t how you originally planned to spend your first night in the hotel. 

In the past days, you’ve learned how frequently she brought different men home, and you should’ve known that this event wasn’t gonna stop her. Good for her, sure, but there is at least 3 hours of unusable footage from your microphone that you have to delete. 

Tiredness begins to take over you, barely concentrating on skipping past the recordings to hear if anything strange happened in Cecilia's room, and your eyes beg to be closed. But you can’t rest, not until you know for sure she’s asleep. 

The first hourly footage that doesn’t contain any sex noises is delivered to your phone at 4 am, and it’s nothing but calm silence. But your sigh of relief is cut short when a call resonates through the audio, disrupting the quiet room and making you hold your breath. Panic sets in, freezing your entire body as you wait for any other sound, because if no one answers, it means either there’s no one in the room, or worse, something happened to her. 

It doesn’t stop, the ringing, as the person calling refuses to give up. The familiar ringtone echoes on your headphones, like it’s too close to the microphone, blocking any other noise from being heard, almost disabling your other senses too. But a simple look around the room lets you realize it’s your phone ringing, and above it all, it’s Wonwoo calling. 

“Why are you awake? What do you want?” He manages to find ways to annoy you even before the sun rises. 

“I need to tell you something, open the door.” 

His serious tone takes you by surprise and makes you jump off your seat. There’s silence on your side on the line while you walk as quietly as possible to your door. A hard but somehow not loud knock on your room door answers your pending question, and leaves you no choice but to let Wonwoo in. 

“What the hell?” You end the call as you reluctantly open the door. 

“I sent you a thousand messages,” Wonwoo stomps inside your room, passing you by with his arms crossed in front of his chest. 

“You shouldn’t be here. Did you check the hallway at least?” You peak your head out the door, the calm hallway welcoming you in complete silence, before closing it with care so it doesn’t draw any attention. 

“You have to stop ignoring me.” Wonwoo walks over to where your laptop still shows the recordings and shuts it close. 

“You’re such a baby, Oh my god. I was doing something and wasn’t checking my phone, it wasn't about you.” His whole body’s tense, his eyes ignoring you and his eyebrows frowning with what could be frustration, fear or even disappointment. “Well? Are you going to tell me whatever you wanted to tell me? Or are you just going to keep strolling around the room like a maniac?” Your arms cross as you sit back on the bed. 

Wonwoo huffs, still stomping back and forth like that would help him clear his head, anxious, thinking hard and gathering his many thoughts. 

“There’s something wrong with my guy.” He settles on those words, vague but still alarmed. 

“Why? Is it about that new guy earlier?” Wonwoo nods, confirming your assumption that he followed them earlier when he and Elias walked away from the table to talk alone. 

It’s like he can’t keep still, his hands slightly shaking covering his mouth and making his non-stop ranting come out muffled. Every second it passes, you grow more and more concerned at his state. The only one other time you saw him getting so paranoid about a mission, he turned out to be right, so you’re not about to dismiss him because of your own feelings towards him. 

“Ok, calm down, talk to me.” Your hand takes hold of his in one of his laps around the room, and you force him to sit down by your side. It’s dangerous, his body so close to yours, emanating an all too familiar heat, but if that’s what it takes to calm him down and make him concentrate, then you’re gonna take the risk. 

“I need to speak with him.” His gaze is trained on the floor, and his right leg shakes anxiously against yours. 

“Elias?” He shakes his head at your whisper, “The other guy?” And at that he nods. 

“You can’t do that, you know it. It’s too much of a risk.” For him to want to break the one rule he’s insistent about, it can’t be something simple he can’t figure out. Your worries rise with every second he spends in silence. “Just tell me what’s wrong.” 

“I… don’t know.” Wonwoo grabs his head and crouches until his forehead touches his knees. “When I heard both of them talk earlier, it sounded like they were speaking in some kind of code. I swear nothing they said made sense.” 

“Maybe they’ve known each other for a long time.” 

“That’s the thing, I have no idea who that other guy is.” He lifts his head from the top of his legs, but still refuses to look at you. “As soon as the cocktail night finished, I went up to my room to try to find anything about him, but there’s nothing. I couldn’t find anything.” 

That definitely sounds wrong. Someone that close to a target should always be easy to investigate, and knowing Wonwoo does intricate background checks on everyone, it’s not good. But you can’t let him see you panic, he needs you to be the voice of reason.  

“You can figure it out, it could mean nothing.” 

“I can do it if I speak with him.” Wonwoo’s not listening to you, too desperate to think clearly, and it just makes you more worried. 

“Think about it first, please, don’t do anything stupid.” You place your hand softly on his knee, going against every rule you’ve set for yourself, only thinking of calming Wonwoo down. 

The silence is deafening. If you listen closely, you might even be able to hear every thought racing through Wonwoo’s brain. His teeth claw on his bottom lip, tinted with blood red as he rips more skin off, and you don’t know what else to say to calm him down. False positivity would force him to push you away again, and now that you two are in this together, that can’t happen. 

“You can.” He simply says as his leg finally stops shaking. “You can talk to him.” 

To say that you’re frozen in place would be an understatement. A part of you, one hidden at the very back of your mind, naturally wants to help him, like you always did without question. But the rational part of your brain, the one that hasn’t been the same since everything happened, screams at you to leave him to figure it out on his own. 

“I– I don’t kn–” 

“Please,” His hand grabbing yours makes you unable to continue talking, “I know you don’t trust me, and I know I don’t deserve it, but, fuck, please, trust me on this.” 

“Wonwoo, I– I shouldn’t.” Words are becoming more and more difficult to think about as his worried eyes begin piercing through you. It’s hard to tell him no, even if your whole body is yelling at you to do so. 

“Look, I’m trying here, I– I’m not hiding it from you or trying to solve it on my own when you’re involved too, please.” You knew this closeness was dangerous for you, your hands between his as his face pleads for you, and your heart pounds against your chest asking you to consider it. 

“Do you even know what you need from him?” His body visibly relaxes at your question, knowing you too well. 

“Anything. Even his favorite color could help.” His gaze softens, a look in his eyes that you were never able to resist. After all that’s happened, his effect on you is still untouched, alive and well even after you tried to bury it deep inside you. 

“It’s too risky Wonwoo, I don’t know if I can.” You’ve already said yes at this point. You know it. He knows it. It’s pointless to still deny it out loud. “We’ve never done this before.” 

“I can do something for you too, anything to keep you from owing me.” His voice sounds sure. Too sure. 

“You sound like you already have a plan.” You slip your hand out of his embrace with force, crossing your arms again. “You came here for this.” 

“What?” There’s genuine confusion on his face. 

“And to think I almost believed you, fuck, I’m so stupid.” That last part was a mumble more to yourself than for him to hear. “I can’t believe I almost fell for it.” 

“Wait, no, I–” 

“I’m not gonna let you use me again.” You interrupt whatever excuse he was about to give you. “You came here, pretending to be stressed and panicking, making me worry about you, all to manipulate me into doing your dirty work! Unbelievable.” 

“Hold on, that’s not why I came.” You’ve stood up some time in between your accusation, and he follows you, grabbing you by the shoulders to force you to look at him. “I promise.” 

“Then why? Why would you offer to do something for me too?” It makes no sense in your head. “You just sound like you already had a plan thought out, like you knew what you came for.” 

“I just remembered the girl Cecilia was talking to earlier and thought maybe you needed information on her.” You frown, not convinced, and he notices, reading you perfectly. “I didn’t come here with that purpose, I swear.” 

“So, you just came here because…” 

“You’ve always helped me clear my mind.” He replies calmly, not a hint of anything close to a lie in his tone. 

You hate it. You hate him. It’s too easy for him to make you lower the walls you’ve been trying so hard to put up. He always finds the right words to say, the thing you need to hear. You should’ve known it was going to happen. One singular moment alone with him and you’re done for. Pathetic. 

“Stop lying.” Your voice comes out weak, defeated. All the emotions you spent so much time trying to bury, fighting to be the cold person you used to be before him, all of them springing out of their hiding simultaneously, weakening you in his eyes.  

“I’m not.” His voice so low makes you aware of the closeness of his body again. His rough hands haven’t let go of your arms, keeping you still in front of him. Your gaze points down at his chest, ignoring his obvious intentions to make you look him in the eyes. “Whatever you want to know, I’ll tell you.” 

“I can’t trust you.” There’s so much hurt in the way words come out of you. Hurt that both of you know has nothing to do with what he’s asking, or with this mission. Hurt that Wonwoo knows it's because of him, and he’ll spend years and years trying to mend, if you let him. 

“I don’t want to hide anything from you.” As he steps back, his arms away from your quivering body, air can finally escape from your lungs. “Ask me anything.” 

From all the questions you’ve harbored over time, the many whys that kept you up every night, the hows that made your skin crawl and never allowed you to be at peace, you’re incapable of asking him the most important one. Reliving that night is out of the question, and when the real issue lies within the current mission, your mouth takes the lead and asks without your brain’s permission. 

“Does the boss know we’re working together?” 

That day in front of Cecilia’s house has been at the back of your mind for days. The way he so casually asked for two invitations like it was of no importance reappearing every time you allowed yourself to follow his lead. 

“Yes.” Wonwoo answers quickly. But you’re not surprised at that fact. 

“And he’s okay with it? I know he doesn’t like me much.” 

It doesn’t make sense that he would allow it, let alone send you to an event where you’re gonna interact way more than on a normal mission. 

“He wasn’t, but I explained to him that it was important to me.” 

Important to him. At that, every previous question evaporates from your mind, creating more current ones. Did he know you were after Cecilia? There’s no way he could. Did he tell him after your encounter at the mall? 

“Why is it important to you?” 

“Because...” Wonwoo hesitates, thinking carefully about the wording for his confession, “I’m not doing this anymore. After this mission, I’m going away for good. I don’t want this life anymore, I’m done.” 

Speechless. That’s the only way to describe the state Wonwoo has left you in once again. But only a part of it seems to get stuck in your mind. 

“Where will you go?” 

You always knew he didn’t like that life. He got stuck in it by accident, with no way out. Sure, he took it seriously, he followed the rules and always did his job right. But he hated it. Hated to steal things for the rich, to be a pawn in someone else’s game. Hated having to always be in hiding, not being able to live a fulfilling life with you. 

A heavy weight sits on your heart, a feeling resurfacing from deep within you, but not unknown. Purposely avoiding him is different from knowing you’ll never see him again. A part of you will always miss him, miss the comfort you felt being with him. 

“I don’t know, just away from here.” He doesn’t sound hurt, but his voice is low, like his words hold another meaning. Here. Away from the city, away from the life he despised, away from the memories of you. 

“You told him you wanted to work with me?” The mental question escapes your lips without your consent, outing your inner thoughts. 

“I didn’t know we’d bump into each other, but once we found out, I called him.” 

“So, what’s the catch? There’s no way he’d take that risk without asking something from you too.” 

Wonwoo sighs, maybe sad, maybe disappointed, maybe ready to be over with the conversation. “I just need to do this right, then I’m done.” 

“That’s it?” It’s hard to believe that a man that hires people like you to do his dirty work and steal expensive stuff for his sketchy clients can let go of his best employee that easily. 

“It’s a hard job, and if I can’t do it, he’ll never allow me to leave.” At one point, Wonwoo stopped looking at you, and you’re afraid you’ve pressed too far. 

“If I know something about you, is that no job is hard for you.” You almost chuckle at the idea of him fumbling a job, even a joke about his betrayal tingles at the tip of your tongue, but the familiarity of your words hits you hard, knocking the easy atmosphere out of you.  

His hand sneaks into one of his pockets, and your fight instinct kicks in again, not ready to face whatever he could possibly show you. But all that comes out in his hand is another phone, one you’ve never seen before, different from the one he used to call you earlier. 

“Here.” Your reflexes work faster than your brain when Wonwoo throws the cellphone to you. “Every detail you want to know, with all my research about them, is in there. You can look through it, see it for yourself.” 

“You want me to go over your entire mission? Are you sure?” 

This is not like the details you’ve been sharing prior to this event, that was only what the other needed. This is different. This is the whole investigation, the entire plan to find his objective and reach his goal. This kind of information is explicitly forbidden to share with anyone, but he’s putting it at risk to gain your trust back. 

“I need your help, please. I can’t do this if you don’t trust what I’m saying.” 

It takes a minute of silence for you to consider what to do next. 

“Then,” from where you stand, your computer is right behind you, light enough for you to grab with one hand, “look through mine. It’s the only folder saved.” 

It’s a silent agreement, implicating that you do want to work with him one last time, to help him get out. You try to ignore the sting in your heart, ignore that you still care, and focus on the missions to take your mind off of it. 

“I can’t ask you that.” He takes your laptop in his hands, but doesn’t open it, even after you signal him to do so. 

“You’re not asking, I’m offering.” Wonwoo sits on your bed, still reluctant to open the computer. “You were right, I barely have info on the woman she was with, only her name and a few other things. We can help each other, but only if we know exactly what we're doing.” 

Wonwoo only nods with a tight smile, understanding even what you don’t voice out.

The candle flame danced at the center of the table, illuminating Wonwoo’s face in the poorly-lighted but expensive restaurant while you waited for the food you ordered. The gold-colored light created a romantic layer that contrasted with the purpose you had set for the dinner experience. 

Wonwoo thought you were here to simply observe your targets’ last meeting before the buying, in addition to having a nice meal, but you had made your personal mission to find out what business he had done the other night at the club. That tall man with a frightened expression haunted your every dream, always turning into nightmares with different outcomes. And not even waking up helped your distress, as you’d open your eyes to find yourself tangled between the arms of the protagonist of said nightmares. 

Wonwoo wasn’t acting weird per se, but that only made your worries worse. There was a chance that you were wrong, that your mind was playing games with you. And you wanted to believe it with your whole heart, no matter how small it was. But the paranoia never seemed to end, and it got worse with each day that passed that Wonwoo acted like nothing happened, living his life normally with you, hugging and kissing you like he wasn’t hiding anything. 

As he sat in front of you, telling you about his day, his back faced where both of your targets were ordering. The waiter spoke comfortably with the old man, you knew he was a regular at that restaurant, and the younger guy trembled slightly, as if afraid of the man sitting in front of him. Wonwoo didn’t seem to care to see the interaction, and didn’t ask you questions about it either, assuming you would’ve told him if something happened. Your eyes were stationed on the two men, but your mind was elsewhere, scheming a way to get information out of your boyfriend without being suspicious. 

“Babe?” His questioning voice almost took you out of character. 

“Sorry, I thought I saw someone.” He smiled, taking no notice of the rollercoaster of thoughts that was going through your mind. “What were you saying?” 

“Who? One of his guys?” His face showed a glimpse of worry, and you debated whether he didn’t want to show emotion in the public place, or if he faked his worry so as to not let you doubt him. 

You didn’t like it. You didn’t like not trusting him. It was eating you from the inside, overthinking about his every move, his every action. You didn’t want to do it. But something at the back of your mind was non stop shouting that something was wrong, giving you no chance but to listen to it. 

“It was…” Wonwoo's eyes followed the way your lips moved with the words, innocently anticipating your answer. “I just thought I saw that guy from the other night.” 

You had him where you wanted him. Eyes wide, hands gripping the sides of the table as he contemplated the options. 

“Which one? It was a crowded night babe.” Wonwoo tried to sound nonchalant. In his eyes, you had no reason to doubt him. 

“That guy that bumped into us, remember?” You pretended to think about that night, like you didn’t go over it in your head countless times, hand on your chin and eyes up to the ceiling as a tiny smile appeared on your face, “you wanna know something funny? I saw him getting out of the bathroom just before you did! I remember fearing you’d done something to him in there.” 

Trap set, you hoped to make him react in any way, but he remained with a poker face, not daring to explain the situation, but not telling you the truth either. 

“Oh, it’s good I didn’t see him then.” Wonwoo chuckled as the waiter finally brought your food and set it on the table, digging into his full plate while your trust shattered in a million pieces. “What an asshole!” 

“Yeah.” 

What more could you have said? Wonwoo was clearly avoiding the subject, eating like a mad man and purposely not looking you in the eyes, and the mission was about to end anyway. The stolen painting your target was selling to Wonwoo’s was already on the way to the abandoned building he always used for his deals, and you intended to steal it before they even arranged their last meeting to finalize the buying and deliver it. 

Maybe that guy was a part of Wonwoo’s mission that he didn’t tell you about, and maybe after you both finished your jobs he’d go back to normal, and you could trust him again. Maybe this time your instinct was wrong. Maybe.

  After the tenth bored nod, the seventh ‘oh wow’ and the fourth ‘that’s crazy’, you’re beginning to understand why all these rich people tend to get piss drunk to get through these kinds of events. Every conversation is identical, the topics, the reactions, the answers, the counter-arguments, nothing ever changes.  

It’s been two days since that night with Wonwoo, where you agreed to get close to each other’s targets’ friends and essentially broke every implicit rule of the job. Two nights since you’ve opened up to each other for one last time. Two nights since you, once again, went against the exact thing you declared you were never going to do again. And a day before the auction where you planned to carry out the robbery. 

Being honest about your missions gave you the amount of reassurance you needed to work with Wonwoo again. What he failed to do last time, not letting you in and not letting you help him, Wonwoo was making sure he didn’t make the same mistakes. And it feels better to work this way. Trusting him, at least with a mission as important as the one he has, is easier now. 

Easier than fake laughing for the tenth time in twenty minutes for sure. 

Elias’ friend sits right across the table, equally as bored as you and showing false interest in the conversation the old men hold. But he stays around them every night regardless, listening to the white-haired men complain about their spouses and showing off their yearly earnings. 

They don’t ask him any questions, and he doesn’t offer anything to the conversation either. You’ve noticed he has some kind of nervous tick, where every two or three minutes he’ll sigh and sit back, brush his blond hair to the side with his hand, look around the room and then go back to pretending to pay attention. Weirdly, his eyes never stray your way, even if you’re directly in front of him and watching his every move. 

The opportunity to personally approach him arises when he opens his mouth for the first time in the night to excuse himself to the bar. Not a glance is spared his way as the table keeps talking, and a few seconds later you do the same. The rich men care more about you leaving than Elias’ friend, but you take three steps away from the table and they're back to their discussion about stock pricing. 

Wonwoo, a few tables back, glances your way and nods just barely, only for you to catch. Due to your previous agreement establishing that the targets remain off limits, he hasn’t approached Sophie, Cecilia’s friend, yet, since the two women are seemingly inseparable. 

The blond man chooses to sit on a barstool on the least illuminated corner of the empty bar, far away from the door. Elias should be in his mid-twenties, according to Wonwoo’s information, so you can only assume his friend is close to that age too, but he looks a lot younger in your eyes, and he orders a vodka cola with a side of fries, further fortifying that impression. 

“What do you recommend?” You ask him as you sit down on the stool next to his, taking him by surprise. 

“Me?” His tone wavers between shocked and bothered that someone’s speaking to him, but you don’t really care which one it really is. 

“Yes, you.” You giggle lightly, placing your chin on the palm of your hand to seem charmed by him. “Do you have any drink recommendations?” 

“Oh I-, I don’t drink often, I wouldn’t know.” He stutters and avoids your eyes. 

“I’ll have what he’s having.” You tell the tired bartender, even if you despise vodka with a passion. “So, what’s a handsome man like doing here all alone?” 

“Those people can get very tiring,” he answers with a serious tone, but a faint blush appears on his ears at your bluntness, “you heard how they are.” 

“Oh, so you noticed me there?” Your flirty persona disappears for a second in slight shock, as you haven’t caught his eyes on you once during the past nights. 

“Of course I did.” Even after his admission, his eyes continue staring as his already half empty glass. “You’re hard to miss.” 

“I don’t know if I want to take that as a compliment, but I will.” Quite the opposite, your intention is to be invisible. “I’m not used to receiving much attention.” You chew on the plastic straw the bartender gives you with your drink, making dreamy eyes at Elias’ friend. 

“Well, you caught mine.” As shy as he may appear, he’s being rather forward with his statements now. 

“What I haven’t caught is your name.” If he’s truly interested in you, then your plan begins, and you intend to acquire as much information as possible. “I’m Marissa.” 

“I’m Lucas.” Amused, he replies as he stretches his hand to shake yours. 

“So, Lucas, what do you do? What brings you to this boring, old rich people event.” A little of your real personality is always good to show when you’re pretending to be someone else. Even if they don’t realize, people have something close to a sixth sense when it comes to strangers, and if you seem to be even a little bit stiff and made up, they’ll unconsciously realize something’s not right with you. 

Lucas chuckles at your undisguised disgust, “I work for one of those rich old men, but he doesn’t like coming here, so it’s my job to make face and buy him whatever artifact he wants on a whim.” 

Hopefully, the microphone you previously set inside your bra hasn’t moved and is recording everything Lucas’ saying in case you forget any details. Wonwoo would never let you live if you forget even the tiniest thing. 

“That sounds awful.” You decide on a short empathetic response, hoping he’ll keep talking without you asking many questions. 

“And what brings you here? You don’t seem to like these kinds of spaces much.” He doesn’t take his eyes off yours as he understands your silence the opposite way. 

“My parents like to come here, but they’re out of town. They asked me to buy one of the paintings for their new home.” You repeat the personal story you created the previous night with Wonwoo. 

“I see. So, neither of us are particularly thrilled to be here.” 

“It’s more fun now that I finally found someone interesting to talk to.” You sip from the vile glass of distilled alcohol, batting your eyelashes in an attempt to lower his guard down. 

“You don’t know anyone here?” He questions, intrigued by you. 

“No, but maybe that’s a good thing.” You pretend to look around, eyes finding Wonwoo in a flirty exchange with Sophie. “What about you? Besides those men back at the table.” 

“Actually, my sister’s here as well, but I haven’t seen her tonight. She always scurries away when the chance comes.” He looks around the room to catch a glimpse of her, but it’s pointless. “And now that she dyed her hair, I can never find her.” 

Like a lightbulb just lit up over your head, the terrible realization of who you’re talking to hits you painfully. “I totally get her.” You snicker back and take another sip of the now more tempting drink. 

You want, no, you need to ask more about his family, find out what you don’t already know, but you throw that thought away the second it comes. It’ll be too obvious, and you can’t afford for him to ask those same questions back. 

“So, what are you taking back for the boss?” Is the question you settle for. 

“He wanted the-” Lucas begins answering, but before can tell you that key information, Elias appears by your side, grabbing him by the arm and muttering something close to ‘we have to talk’. 

Lucas sends you an apologetic smile as he leaves the bartender a tip under the drink he didn't touch. You barely hear him saying goodbye to you, as Elias forces him to follow his lead and leave you behind. 

You’re left perplexed on your seat, jaw on the floor and eyes scattering trying to find if Wonwoo had the chance to see what just happened. At least Elias didn’t even spare you a glance, and you had no time to even think of saying a word to him. 

How could you have missed it? You researched her entire life, since the day she was born up until the day you first started shadowing her. It doesn’t make sense. Nothing about this job makes any sense. 

Across the room, still at the same table, Cecilia’s friend has moved her chair closer to Wonwoo’s and is tracing lines down his arm as she talks to him. Of course, he can’t avoid that every woman he interacts with throws herself at him. At least it works. 

His eyes find yours just in time, and you tilt your head towards the door. You don’t expect him to follow you. That’s not why you told him you were leaving. But as the elevator doors begin to close, his right foot appears in their way and they open back up again, revealing his tall figure and worried face. 

“Did something happen?” He stands too close to your side, his hand not even bothering to click the button to his floor. 

“Got some disturbing information before He showed up and took the boy away from me.” The four walls surrounding you suffocate you. “You didn’t need to come after me.” 

“I was about to leave myself when I saw you.” Wonwoo straightens his posture, eyes on the doors opening on your floor. “I got everything I needed.”  

“Sure thing.” You sound unconvinced, and it’s no wonder he realizes it too. “Well, text me what you got later.” 

“You looked cozy with him.” His voice trails behind you. “A little young for you.” 

You scoff, back still directed at him as you try to get your damn door to open. “Good night, Wonwoo.” 

“I bet he was drinking something only teenagers like. Maybe vodka? Judging by the face you made when you took the first sip.” He doesn’t relent, and for some reason, your door opens but you stay there. 

“Were you actually doing your job? Or were you too busy inspecting my conversation?” Your body turns to face him, too easily annoyed by him even if you know that’s what he wants. 

“Just watching from afar in case you needed help.” You know he’s staying put as a silent beg for you to spill your information. 

“Well, I didn’t.” You don’t even get to step half a foot inside your room before he’s closing the door in your face, leaving you stranded on the hallway, trapped between the wall and his body. 

“C’mon, don’t make me force it out of you. Tell me what you got.” His tone is stern, clearly done with your avoiding technique.  

“Fine! Fine, but you can’t panic.” You say, but the one panicking is you as your eyes scan the hallway back and forth, again and again. 

“I can be calm, only if you tell me what the fuck happened.” He definitely saw what happened with Elias. 

“They’re siblings.” The beat of silence is louder than your thoughts. “The boy is Cecilia's brother.” Your final whisper draws the color out of Wonwoo’s face. 

“You’re kidding me. You have to be fucking kidding me.” You’re lucky most people are still at the event downstairs, because if not, Wonwoo’s shouts would’ve never gone by unnoticed. 

“You have to calm down.” You try to get closer to him, but he starts pacing around the hall, just like the other night in your room. “Let’s just get inside.” 

“What did he say?” Wonwoo’s not listening to you. “Tell me exactly what he said.” 

“He told me he was here filling in for his boss, and I asked if he knew anyone here.” He won’t calm down until the pieces start making sense in his mind, so you fill him in, in the lowest tone possible. “He said his sister always comes to these things, but that she keeps leaving before the night's over.” Every bit of information you utter just gets him madder. “And that she recently dyed her hair.” 

“How did you not know this before?” He doesn’t doubt you, but the mission. 

“I don’t know!” You’re more focused on hearing any minimal sound on your floor. If anyone finds the two of you in this state, you’re fucked. “There weren’t any papers that said she had other family. You saw everything I had.” 

“Maybe it’s just a coincidence.” Wonwoo wonders out loud, but the both of you know it’s too specific for it to be a coincidence. You don’t answer him, your doubtful look being enough. 

“You’re sure she has what I need.” A nod is all you give him. “And I can’t just get it from her and be done.” You know he’s thinking out loud to himself, but you still shake your head. 

The USB has to be in Elias’ hands when Wonwoo’s time to steal it comes. They can’t know something’s missing before you get what you need. 

“Fuck. Okay." With that, Wonwoo finally stops pacing around. “This is too messy, and if something’s wrong, I don’t want to be here when shit happens. Tomorrow, we do our jobs and we're out of here.” 

Wonwoo stands still before you, waiting for something more than just a securing nod from you. 

“Yeah. We’ll be extra careful.” Is all you can say. 

His last words echo in your mind. ‘And we're out of here.’ After tonight, you probably won’t see him again. Ever. You’ve been living without him for months, learning what it’s like to wake up with his side of the bed cold. Some days, you still wake up thinking you’ll find him fast asleep on the couch, his dirty clothes scattered on the floor because he came home late and didn’t want to wake you up. You’ve been trying to live with that hurt, but at least, you knew he was still out there. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” The words blurt out of you without your brain’s consent, and Wonwoo stops in his tracks, barely a few steps away from you. 

He turns around, eyes narrowed, trying to figure out why you’re still there. “If by ‘okay’ you mean that I’ll go back to my room and not be able to sleep, then yes, I’m okay.” 

“I don’t want you to get unnecessarily worried.” As you keep talking, he slowly begins taking steps closer to you. “You just focus on what you have to do, I’ll deal with them.” 

Wonwoo smirks. He smirks so cockily you regret it instantly. He stands in front of you, too close, but you can’t back away, not when he traps you against the wall again. 

“Careful honey, you’re starting to sound like you’re worried about me.” You don’t know how he does it. How he turns a stressful situation into a moment to tease you in an instant. 

“I’m just trying to help you. Don’t get your hopes up, Wonwoo.” You should be trying to get out of his trap, but you don’t. 

The ping of the elevator echoes through the hall, alerting the both of you, but you stay put. His broad back covers you perfectly from every angle, and whoever will walk past you would simply mistake you for another pair of strangers in a steamy situation. Nothing out of the ordinary. 

Pointy steps get closer to round the corner where you’re both obviously too close for it to be something else. Wonwoo pretends to whisper on the side of your face. Breathy nonsense as his lips graze your ear, one arm on your side caging you in even more. You don’t breathe, as if the air between your bodies just became toxic. 

You’ve been in similar situations countless times, and it always ended the same. Your brain knows this is different, that it’s just a tactic to go unnoticed. But your body doesn’t. Your stomach tingles with something you know too well, the back of your neck filled with goosebumps following your tummy’s lead. 

As the unknown person walks past you, quickening their pace as they realize what you two seem to be doing, you finally relax. 

“Fuck, Wonwoo, get away from me.” His chest doesn’t budge at your push. “You’re so fucking annoying. Fine, I’ll stop worrying about your job.” 

“Sure, you try that.” The corner of his mouth is still lifted. If only there was a way to wipe it off his face. “See you tomorrow.” 

“Yeah.” He walks away with his hands inside his pockets, and your body finally responds to the signals from your brain and opens the door. 

Your fingers trace the edge of your ear where his lips touched, hearing his footsteps get further away, but not turning to look at him. That would mean he won.

You should’ve known something was wrong. The second you arrived at the location with Wonwoo, following his target into the abandoned building where yours kept the stolen art pieces, it should’ve been obvious. 

The plan was simple. Park an unmarked truck just outside, grab the pieces while your subject’s sentinel’s terrorized Wonwoo’s target –the usual technique to make the clients scared they’re not receiving what they paid for, and then drive away as fast as you could to deliver them to your boss. A plan similar to tons of previous one’s you’ve done together. 

Everything was carefully planned over the few weeks you spent surveilling the targets. Even if your trust on Wonwoo was faltering, you’d never let your worries come in the way of yours and his safety. He had to trust you’d know in which room of the thousands in the empty building they could’ve been keeping the stolen art, and you had to trust him to deal with any security you might encounter on the way. 

When there wasn’t any sign of life on the blocks around the building, you should’ve known. 

When it was too easy to get inside and climb the stairs to find the rooms, you should’ve known. 

When the way down with the heavy paintings was too clear of any people, you should’ve known. 

When Wonwoo closed the back of the truck and got in with no suspicions, you should’ve known. 

The walk from the back of the truck to the passenger seat was so close, you didn’t think to look around in case anyone was there. Why would you? You hadn’t encountered anyone up until that point, and it was nearly over, there was almost no chance. 

The metal blade pushing against your throat the second you began walking away from the truck was that 0,0001% chance. 

“Back away now.”  A low, unfamiliar voice ordered you. You couldn’t talk, couldn’t scream for help. You only had your other senses to rely on. 

You walked back slowly, forcing the man to walk back with you, pressing your back against his torso. He felt strong, taller than you, the knife against the vein on your neck was recently sharpened. But if the job had taught you something, it was to never give up, even if the chances seemed slim. Your attacker may have taken you by surprise, he may have been bigger and more muscular than you, but in that moment, to his demise, your need to punch men was skyrocketing. 

Elbowing him straight on the nose, his arms let go of you in shock, screaming in pain as he stumbled back. You didn’t have time to focus on the drops of blood you felt dripping down your neck. 

His bald head stood out over his blood covered face and the suit he was wearing for some reason. Of course you remembered him. With the way you saw him every night when you tried to sleep, he was basically burned to the back of your eyes. You could recognize him from miles away. The man Wonwoo had talked to behind your back that night in the club. 

In the second it took him to stop bitching about his nose and look up, you began stomping his way, your fist in the air ready to give him another bruise to remember you by. 

The crack sound reached your ears before you felt the pain shooting up your arm. The guy’s head flew to the side at your punch, breaking at least one of your fingers in the process. A bearable pain compared to what the situation meant. 

Your eyes fell on the knife laying on the ground just steps away from you at the same time as him. And he was faster. You felt the pain on the back of your left leg before you realized what was happening. He slashed your calf with the dirty blade, and was getting up to finish the job. But you were never a runner. 

With quick reflexes, you successfully avoided the first few punches he threw your way, managing to tire him out to get in a few punches to his ribs. Somehow, the pain coming from your every limb was overshadowed by the anger you felt. In that moment, that man could have shot you, and you would’ve still found it in you to keep fighting. Because no one was coming to rescue you. That fact became more evident after the scream of pain you let out at your broken hand. In that moment, something you should’ve stood by your whole life sank in. You only had yourself. 

A ringtone came from somewhere on the floor around where you were standing, and the bald man’s eyes widened in the search for it. He stood on guard, searching for the phone but ready if you wanted to throw another punch. But before you had time to look for it yourself and smash it on his shiny head, an engine starting caught your full attention. 

From behind you, the truck where you knew for a fact Wonwoo was sitting in rumbled as the key tried to start it. There it was, the confirmation of everything you’d been trying to convince yourself it wasn’t possible. The sound of your heart breaking might’ve been even louder than the engine as the driver changed gears. 

Your eyes connected with Wonwoo’s on the passenger seat, as your target drove them away at light speed. It was a millisecond, where his eyes took notice of your beaten-up state, the dirt building up on your face and dry drops of blood on your arms, not physically defeated, but disappointed. 

From the corner of your eye, you saw your aggressor cowardly running away, his phone in one hand and his other hand holding the side of his torso you made sure would hurt for at least weeks. But you were petrified in place, unmoving as the truck disappeared into the horizon. 

The man you always imagined fighting by your side, who you thought would have your back even on the toughest times and who allegedly saw a future with you, who now set you up for a trap, watching from the sidelines as you got injured fighting for your life, driving off with your alleged target. 

And with them, the little hope you had left.

Your hand cramps over the door handle. It’s been wrapped around it for minutes, waiting for your brain’s signal to turn it to the side and step out of your room. But the nervousness building up inside your stomach is becoming more unbearable by the second, rendering you incapable of continuing with your day. It’s a new type of feeling, one you never thought you’d feel on the job. Nervous? About stealing some random piece of jewelry from a rich woman? If Wonwoo could see you, you’re sure he’d have his fair share of laughs. 

Many things could go wrong. Details tend to scramble on the job, and getting creative with new ideas the second something happens is a key part of it. But the probability of a few mishaps happening never left you immobile like this before. The little chance, however small, that either your job or Wonwoo’s carries something deeper within rushes a cold wave through your veins. 

No job ever is truly easy, of course there are bumps on the road for everything, but when the future of someone you care for depends on it, it holds a different kind of weight. There never was this much at stake, at least to your knowledge.  

You weren’t supposed to get this involved. Even the details Wonwoo shared before you got essentially locked up in the fancy hotel seemed too much for you. And now, it’s a given that as soon as either of your targets realize their missing item, you’ll both be in trouble. The relationship between your targets made you hoard even more responsibility than before. You couldn’t make a single mistake without taking Wonwoo down with you. 

It’s a noise on the hallway that takes you out of the trance, a door slamming shut that sounds too precise to be a coincidence, but once you finally leave your room, it’s impossible for it to have been anything more than that. The empty corridor sends chills down your spine, a slight bad feeling you’ve been fighting to get rid of all morning. 

The way down the elevator becomes a movie theater to visualize the entire plan. Every room, every move, every possible alternative, every single detail runs laps around your brain as you try not to look stressed to the few people going down with you to the final event. 

The automatic doors open, and the packed bottom floor welcomes you full of murmur and the fanciest gowns and suits you’ve seen yet. Stabilizing your breath, avoiding looking around the room too much, you walk out, weary of the people around you and going straight to an empty place to sit after grabbing your sign for the auction. 

Sitting on a row at the back and right at the edge of the chair arrangement makes everything easier. You won’t bother anyone by standing up, drawing the minimum attention possible, and you can surveil from behind everyone, just in case. 

As the lights dim on the crowd, and the presenter steps on the stage to begin his speech to introduce each piece getting auctioned tonight, the time to wait has come. 

Cecilia sits close to the very first row, with her friend, whose name you learned is Sophie, sitting to her right as expected. The most difficult part will be getting close to Cecilia without her personal sidekick in the way. The only time you saw her alone all these past days, was when she flirted with different men. 

Surely, she'll go to the restroom alone right? But what's the only way she could leave her purse unattended for you to quickly snatch, grab what you need, and return without her noticing. The answer, you've thought about all week. But you can’t move forward with anything until you get Wonwoo's text saying he's finished.  

You haven’t laid eyes on him yet, which means he definitely saw you. 

Both of you agreed that telling each other your plans to get the theft done was a bad idea. You have to take every precaution possible, and the less people know your plan, no one in this case, the better. 

Piece by piece gets auctioned quickly, the staff wasting as little time as possible. Nothing really draws your attention, most of the works are contemporary art, which is not really your favorite, but Marissa on the other hand, she came here for one of the paintings. 

It’s dark so the people can concentrate on the auction properly, but there’s enough light for you to recognize Elias standing up and leaving the dance-hall turned stage. Wherever he’s going, you’re sure Wonwoo’s trailing after him. When Cecilia stands up a minute later and goes after him, you’re certain their exchange is happening. 

You wait patiently for Wonwoo’s text, seeing ugly painting after painting pass, but none of them are decent enough for you to spend money you don’t have on it. The numbers people shout for these art pieces is ridiculous, not because they aren’t pretty, art is subjective after all, but because these people are spending so much money on things that’ll just collect dust in their second mansion they only visit once a year. Rich people and their money. 

Like a sign from the universe, Cecilia materializes at the giant door once again, returning to her seat just as your second phone vibrates inside your dress’ pocket. 

Ryan: The flan has been eaten. 

A cackle almost slips out of you before you get a hold of yourself. 

You: Smooth?  Ryan: Could’ve been better, maybe with a little more caramel. 

You don’t understand what that’s code for, but at least he’s done. It’s your turn now, before any of them realize Elias doesn't have the USB in his possession anymore. 

After winning the bid for the least bad looking painting there, you take your chance to sneak off, standing up and crouching as you walk over to the bar. It's the perfect cover: going to do all the paperwork and transfers after winning a bid. Given the odd chance that someone noticed you, it won’t be weird if you disappear for long. 

“Hey! Can I ask you something?” You approach the bartender, the same one who’s been working all those previous nights. 

“What can I help you with?” If your tactics worked, this part should be easy. 

“Do you happen to know that woman’s usual drink order?” As discreetly as possible, you point to Cecilia. “I was talking with her earlier, and she said I could sit with her during the auction, but I don’t want to show up empty handed.” 

The bartender giggles lightly, nodding at your request before turning back and making the drink. With her back blocking your line of sight, it’s impossible to see exactly what the cocktail is, but hopefully it’s not the most expensive one. 

Applause erupts in the crowd behind you. Just like clockwork. 

“Here’s the drink, mam.” She sets the pinkest cocktail you’ve ever seen in front of you. “It’d be $40.” She smiles so politely you manage not to choke on your spit at the ridiculous price. At this point, she could be scamming you and you wouldn't care. 

After rummaging through your bag to find $50 and a tiny pill you threw in there, you hand the bill out to her with a smile and the empty feeling of your wallet. At least you’ll get a lot more money back after the job’s finished. 

While the bartender’s focused on fetching your change, you drop the quickly dissolving pill on Cecilia’s drink. Just something for her stomach to be a little upset and trigger a trip to the restroom. 

“You know what? Keep the change, sweetie.” The old people's nickname slips out of you, but you’re walking away before even registering her reaction. 

With the overpriced, and probably way too sweet drink, in your hand, you approach a now standing Cecilia as she talks with a group of older women. A few feet away from them, you spot the man she hooked up the first night there. 

“Sorry to interrupt ladies,” you sneak in between their bodies, getting a few weird looks, and lightly touch Cecilia’s arm to get her attention, “but that man over there told me to get you this drink.” You point to him after giggling, and leave the group right after she takes it. 

Would what you did be considered rule breaking? It was absolutely necessary! In reality, no one’s going to remember you after tonight. They never think about strangers for over a few minutes, except probably to talk shit behind their back.

It's not long before your little secret starts taking effect, so you don’t waste any more time, head to the restroom and lock yourself inside the middle stall. One would think bathrooms at these kinds of things would be fancy, spacious and luscious, but out of the five stalls, the two closer to the entrance are “on repair”, there’s no toilet paper in any of them, and it smells like those toilets behind the locked doors haven’t been cleaned in weeks. Luckily, you don’t have to submit yourself to wait there much longer. 

Minutes after you escape the crowded hall, the echo of a pair of stilettos rushing on the hallway towards the bathroom pierces through the tension you built up alone. 

The door slams open, and the known body stumbles against one of the available stalls, falling limp on the ground as her purse falls next to her. It’s open all the way, ready to be raided by you. 

As Cecilia starts puking nonstop, it’s easy to ignore the smell and sneak your hand under the tall opening under the stall wall. You’re in a time crunch, and another echo of someone, definitely Cecilia’s friend, sprinting to the bathroom pumps up the adrenaline as you look as fast as you can. 

The heavy gold chain is easy to feel with your fingertips, sitting at the bottom of Cecilia’s bag. You don’t question why she threw such a significant necklace into her purse like that, not even nicely kept in a box, as she also did that with the USB she traded with Elias. At least she made the job easier. 

As stealthily as possible, you retrieve the emerald gem along with the chain. No wonder the necklace is being so obsessively looked for. Apart from the price the clients are willing to pay for it, its beauty could create rows of people lining up just to catch a glimpse of it, the green stone matches perfectly with the gold.

You shove your hand away from inside the bag and hide as best as possible in your stall, just as Sophie runs inside the toilet to help her friend. But they can’t know someone else is there with them, because they’ll instantly know when you took the necklace once they find out.

Stepping on top of the toilet seat, trying to make no noise even if they probably won’t be able to concentrate on anything other than Cecilia, you breathe shallowly, waiting for them to leave once and for all.

If it wasn’t for the little time you gave her to put food in her stomach, you’d be standing there, over a dirty toilet, for at least an hour, but Cecilia’s a woman that doesn’t want to miss out on any party. It takes her less than two minutes to recover and clean herself up looking in the mirror over the sink, and they’re both out of the restroom in a flash, as if they were never there.

After waiting until you hear no noise in the hallway, you know you have to get away from there before anyone catches up to the plan and realizes where exactly the necklace was taken. There’s a little more time to get away from the hotel, after you and Wonwoo get your things.

Wonwoo.

Should you update him? Tell him everything went okay?

He is technically done. He got what he needed and let you know, there was nothing more he had to do. And Wonwoo never liked staying on the job more time than necessary, so he probably left already.

Since the elevator’s too risky, climbing six floors up the stairs is your best option. A little exercise never killed anyone.

It’s a hard task, but you manage and finally reach the floor in which your room’s patiently waiting to be packed away. Your lungs struggle to let air inside, and as you enter your hallway, the figure standing against your door takes the little air you managed to inhale all the way out again.

Wonwoo’s resting his back against the door to your room, with his phone in his hand, probably playing a stupid game. A storm of different thoughts rain over your head, unsure on how to feel at the sight of him. Annoyance? Relief? Sadness?

“What are you still doing here? I thought you would’ve left by now.” Your voice snaps his head your way, and he quickly slips the phone into his pocket to give you his full attention.

“I wanted to wait until you were done.” He hesitates to raise his voice, but interrupts you before you reply. “Just in case.”

You walk almost robotically as you get closer to him, not knowing what to do, how to act. Is he here to say his final goodbye? Do you even want him to?

“Well, It went well.”A sigh of relief leaves his lips, and as he looks down, ready to leave you alone like you asked so many times, it dawns on you. “You can tell your uncle that you're done. And to go fuck himself.”

Your joke relaxes the both of you, laughing lightly at your stupid, but very real, declaration full of resentment. Wonwoo knows you mean it. You never hid your dislike for his family, like they never hid their hatred towards you.

“Believe me, I have much more to say than that.”

The tension in Wonwoo’s face visibly goes away as you both laugh again, a little louder this time. Neither of you aims to get away from the other, atmosphere unexpectedly comfortable.

When he locks eyes with you, smiles still there but fading as the moment passes and a new one emerges, you don’t avert your gaze. When he takes a step in your direction, you don’t back away. And when he cups the side of your face and lowers his until your lips touch, you let him.

The familiar feeling of his lips against yours envelops you all around. For a second, blood runs warmer through your veins, the weight on your shoulders flies away, and you’re somewhere where nothing else matters other than him and you.

But before his hands creep up your body and compel you to make a bad decision, you pull back.

Your top lip’s still tingling when Wonwoo apologizes. “I shouldn't have done that. I’m sorry.”

“Why did you?” It doesn’t come out as irritated as you thought you wanted it to. Your lowered guard must be playing games with your mind.

“I… just wanted to. For one last time.” His quiet voice and shoulders hanging low contrast with his eyes, looking at you like he doesn't regret it one bit.

“W-well, you can't do that.” No matter how nice he’s able to make you feel, what he did is unforgettable. Even if it’s your body’s instinct to react to his touch. “I didn’t forgive you.”

Wonwoo stays silent, his stare leaving your eyes and concentrating on the floor below. Your remainder drew the line between you two again, the one that shouldn’t have gotten blurred in the first place.

As your hand wraps around the door handle slowly, hesitant like so many hours before, the air behind you tenses, and Wonwoo speaks up before you even have the chance of leaving him there.

“I didn’t want to do it.”

His tone full of regret makes you stop in your tracks. He’s not talking about the kiss, but rather that damned day, But you’re tired of hearing those words.

“You told me that. Several times.” How can he think that’ll fix the damage? “But it doesn’t change anything. You still did it.” Anger bleeds through your cold tone, reliving the thousands of times you had the same conversation.

“If you knew why I had to do it, you’d get it.” He sighs with his reply, but his frustration makes no sense to you. “There’s a lot you don’t know.”

“Then why don’t you tell me?” In the past, the only times you were mad enough to demand an explanation, he always avoided telling you why. Why he tricked you and left you to fight alone. “Nothing’s gonna change if you leave me out of the loop.”

Wonwoo’s mouth opens and closes several times as he tries to figure out what to say. Can’t he just tell you the truth? After tonight, you’ll never see him again. He’ll leave for good to find a better life. He’ll leave you behind, alone with that uncertainty forever haunting you. From your point of view, it’s the best time to enlighten you about that night.

“It was to protect you.” His hesitation makes it hard to believe him.

“I didn’t feel very protected.” You don't know why you're still hearing him out. You should be on your way home, memories of him wiped clean and money getting sent to your account.

“I can't just-”

“You can't what? You made a deal behind my back and betrayed me!” Admittedly, you're getting angrier than you should. You should've risen above it by now, but he's making it too hard.

“Can we get inside to talk?” Wonwoo's wide eyes scan the hallway carefully, like he's just becoming aware that you're still in public.

Do you need an explanation that badly that you're willing to be inside an enclosed room with him again? Your uncontrollable feelings haven't been trustworthy lately, but if you want closure, it may be the only way.

With a sigh and the wall around your heart falling apart, you walk into your room with Wonwoo following behind you.

“Talk.” The dry atmosphere is suffocating, a need for everything to be over growing with every second Wonwoo stays silent. “And fast, because I don't have much patience left with you.”

“I don’t blame you for hating me.” He starts, and any thought you had vanishes into thin air. “I even hate myself for it, but I don’t regret it.”

“How can you say that?” Hearing those words come out of his mouth shouldn’t feel like a punch in the gut, and you hate it. You shouldn’t have allowed him in. “Whoa, just, why don’t you just leave? I gotta pack and leave this godforsaken place.”

Wonwoo grabs your arm and prevents you from turning your back on him.

“They knew you were after Albert.” Albert, the stolen paintings man you were following at the time.

You freeze in place, but you’re unable to react while the words float around your head trying to make sense. 

“That’s impossible.” You don’t sound nearly as dismissive as you should.

“They knew someone was going to steal from him, it was a set up for whoever it was.” There’s nothing in Wonwoo’s revelation that points to it being a lie, and it throws off everything you believed about that day. “They were going to torture the truth out of you. Find out who you work for.”

“But how?” You’re always careful, always follow the rules, always make sure to blend in the background. Never, in all the years you’ve been doing this, were you discovered. If they knew, someone must’ve snitched on your boss’ client.

“I don’t know, but the boss forced me to make a deal with him and pretend to help him out.” By the way Wonwoo pronounces ‘boss’, you know his uncle pulled the family card.

He lets you think in silence, waiting for whatever you choose to do with the new information.

On one hand, you don’t doubt he’s telling the truth about the deal. On the other hand, you can’t think of the reasoning behind why Wonwoo refused to tell you this the thousands of times he had the chance to. Or why he didn’t talk to you at the time to plan something together.

“Did he tell you not to help me?” How could his family only come up with a plan where you were the one who ended up with the short end of the stick? They made you believe it was your fault, didn’t call you for months after your recovery. It doesn’t make any sense.

“He said it could risk our entire family.” Ouch.

It’s no surprise that his family doesn’t consider you part of them. They never did. And you didn’t expect them to. But hearing the sentiment come out of Wonwoo’s mouth stings.

“I fought them until the last day.” Wonwoo continues, sensing that you need more details about his stance. “They made sure I had no other choice.”

You know what that means. Of course they threatened him. It was always blood over anything else until he refused to fulfill their whims, then, it stopped mattering that Wonwoo was blood too. You’ve seen it happen first hand, just not with you on the receiving end.

“I hate your fucking family.” You settle on saying. Nothing he’s never heard before, but something to imply you understand him, in a way. After all, regardless of the time you spent apart, you were by his side through most of the horrible things he had to do for them.

Wonwoo exhales deeply, a barely there smile at your acknowledgement.

“I’m glad you can finally get out.” You continue, letting your care for him show through your words.

“Me too.” His body relaxes, suddenly much closer to you than before. “I’m gonna miss you.”

The warmth radiating from him envelops you, so familiar and intimate, and your body instantly lightens despite the rush you’re both supposed to be in. And as he tilts his head down to look into your eyes, gaze soft after his seemingly small but heartfelt confession, you can’t avoid the ache in your heart anymore.

“I’m gonna miss you too.” You realize out loud, the hurt in your voice opening a cascade of repressed feelings, clouding your eyes with tears.

When Wonwoo’s arms wrap around you at the sight of your crumbling form, you don’t stop him as he holds you close to his chest. Feeling his heartbeat against your ear, overpowering the sudden change of air in your room, you decide to let go. You don’t cry, but instead let yourself be comforted by him, by his steady breath and strong arms tight around you.

You’ve been surviving without him, trying to mend the hole in your heart and with no way to get closure, with your memories of him stained by the sight of his face watching you from the truck as it drove away. But surviving isn’t living.

“I’m sorry.” Wonwoo’s words reverberate down his chest. “For everything.”

Even if both of you know an apology won’t fix the rift he caused in your relationship, you let yourself live in that moment. Not survive, but live the moment with him in your arms.

His chest rising and falling against your ear fades everything around you, leaving only you and him alone in the world. Maybe you're waiting for him to let go, or maybe you know he's waiting for you and you refuse to say goodbye, but neither of you dare to let go of the other, enjoying the comfort you once knew so well. How many times have you woken up in a cold sweat, wishing he was laying behind you on the bed, ready to hug you back to sleep, and now you have it.

As if he could hear your doubt, Wonwoo lets go of his grip, setting you free from his tight embrace, but you stay there, standing in front of him without any other thought. The poor lighting from the bedside lamp you always forget to turn off does no justice to Wonwoo’s features as he looks at you up and down.

It's unclear who crosses the line into the other's personal space first. And this time, when his plush lips mold against yours, you don’t control yourself, you don’t put a stop to his movements.

The ghost of his touch you’ve been failing to escape from, back with more passion, glueing you together.

Naturally as ever, Wonwoo wraps his arms around you once again, now to help you on your tiptoes to be even closer. A sigh escapes you as your chests press against one another, and your hands cup his jaw to kiss him harder.

His tongue traces the outline of your lower lip, and the months you spent deprived of him open the way for you to give into him. You let his tongue roll over yours as he deepens the kiss the way it has you melting against him. A whimper draws out of you, and his hunger for you physically arises.

You don’t waste any time, sneaking your hands under the fancy clothes that fit him too well, feeling the tense of his muscles directly. With the pad of his fingers, he starts slipping down the string of your dress down your shoulders, leaving a fiery trail under his touch.

Between the mess of clothes flying away and the tangled limbs looking to feel the other’s bare skin, the world outside the four walls surrounding you stops mattering as you stumble back and fall on the bed. Wonwoo’s hips fit where your legs meet, seeking for your touch everywhere he can.

The weight of his bare chest on yours causes a chain reaction inside you. He's always had a toned body to drool for, but being under him again, feeling all the new muscle he gained while away from you, it’s not long before he has you softly moaning into his mouth, grinding his hips against yours with something more than just lust.

“Are we really doing this?” He gasps, detaching his mouth from you to look at your reaction.

You shouldn’t. It's wrong from every angle possible. Crying on your ex's shoulder and then making out with him? That was the first strike. Having sex with your ex? Wrong again. Having sex when you should be escaping after stealing two valuable and expensive pieces of jewelry and information? So, very wrong. But doing something right has rarely been a part of your life.

You could get sentimental, say that right in that moment, every molecule in your body was screaming asking for him to make you his. But what ultimately comes out of you is, “don’t talk, or I’ll regret it.”

Wonwoo doesn't seem fazed by your retaliation and just nods, making you chase his mouth as he starts leaving kisses up your jaw. His warm breath against your neck mixed with his barely clothed groin stroking your core slowly has you swallowing hard, waiting for his next move. Why hasn't he taken off his underwear yet?

“You never complained about my talking before.” His voice, ten times lower than before, takes your ear by surprise.

“We're in a rush, Wonwoo.” His name comes out half a moan as his hands travel down to where your centers meet.

Your reactions widen the smirk you're just now realizing is plastered on his face, lowering his head down while his eyes tease yours from above your stomach.

“This one's new.” He notes, hooking his fingers on the strings of your panties as he starts slipping them off you, leaving you now completely bare and at his mercy.

“Had people to impress.” You lie, hoping to rile him up enough that he stops teasing you.

Before you have the chance to react, the tear of the fabric reaches your ears. He ripped them off. “Now no one else will ever see them.”

“Fuck!” Getting more turned on by his jealousy just escalated to the top of the list of things that shouldn’t be happening.

The big bed in the center of your room has more than enough space for you both, but Wonwoo shows off his strength by dragging you to the edge, sinking to his knees on the soft carpet on the floor to face your center properly.

With his hands groping their way up your thighs, his eyes savoring the view of your wet core, and your speeding heartbeat with anticipation, you're instantly under his spell, gasping at every touch he decides to give.

Playing with you has always been a favorite of his. Quickie or not, he always found the time to have you whimpering and begging for him.

Feeling his fingers softly tracing your lower lips, spreading the arousal he caused all around your most sensitive zone, not holding back on touching you where you most need him, but not applying enough pressure. He’s driving you crazy.

“You're so wet baby.” He's so entranced you realize he's not looking for an answer. “And it's all for me.”

In one of his endless rounds on your too needy core, you stop his fingers right at the center. You claw at his hands, and his hazy stare, mesmerized by his work with your wetness, finds its way to yours, eyes dark with lust, urging him to do something once and for all.

“I’m enjoying my time down here.” His eyes get lost again, but the teasing smirk growing on his face tells you everything.

“We don’t have time,” but oh how you wish you did, “Wonwoo, don’t p–”

Your inner walls spread apart as he plunges two fingers into you, successfully shutting you up. Your insides welcome him, wrapping around his familiar digits seeking for more, sucking him further inside until his knuckles get covered in the wetness messily spread in your lips.

Wonwoo knows when to curl his fingers to make you scream. When to twist, turn and retract his hand to have you whimpering for more. And your body gives him every reaction he needs to fuel his ego.

“See how needy you are for me?” He groans as he rises from the ground, towering over you, not forgetting to thrust his hand into you so deliberately hard you can’t even mumble a response. “No one could make you feel this good.”

“N-no,” his eyes darken at your broken response, “you’re the only one.”

And it’s true. No matter how many times you tried, no one ever touched you like Wonwoo did. No one cared about finding and stroking each spot you loved and focused on your pleasure. Hell, not even you understand how Wonwoo so easily finds his way inside you.

“I can’t believe I spent so much time away from you.” You rake your nails down his back, lowering his torso down until he’s pressed against you again, his fingers hitting hard inside you as he moans in your ear, loving how your walls tighten around him. “I’m gonna make you mine again.”

“I already am.” You’re saying everything that comes to mind, your filter long gone by now. “Wonwoo, I’m cl-”

The sentence gets cut short, a desperate moan echoing across the room as Wonwoo gets his other hand to work, playing with your clit as your walls quiver against his menacing fingers.

“Relax, baby.” His length pokes against your inner thigh, rock hard and ready for you to play with, but your brain can’t take another order. “I know.”

Everything combines and combusts at the flick of his finger against your clit. And he doesn’t stop. His hands thrusts hard inside you, your trembling legs and spasming walls losing control as he extends your orgasm to his liking.

“Fuck, baby.” He stops moving his hand, letting you ride out your orgasm as he marvels at the sight. You shouldn’t blush at his words, especially when he can feel your walls clamp and know the effect he has on you. “I didn’t know you missed me that much.”

You don’t give any of you time to figure out anything, sneaking your hand between your bodies and getting hold of his hard length trying to peek out of his boxers. Wonwoo graces you with a sweet groan, hips twitching against your hand, showing you how much he needs you too.

When he slides his hands off your warmth, you don’t waste any time and rush to get his damn underwear off. After thinking you’ll never get to have him again, you can’t wait to, for one last time.

He catches on to your eagerness, taking both your thighs in his hands to drag you even closer to the edge of the bed, spreading them apart so your entrance’s finally close to his erection. The shock at the remainder of his size is almost embarrassing, proudly standing against his abs. You’re staring in awe, and Wonwoo loves it.

He stands proudly before you, letting you eye him up and down, all while allowing his eyes to wander on your body too. “Good to know you still like what you see.”

“Shut up.” You chuckle as you wiggle down the last centimeter to line up with his length, your desire for him stronger than your need to preserve your ego.

It’s dirty, the way Wonwoo drags his fingers through your lips to collect your arousal before pumping himself. You know he notices the new wave of arousal at his touch, but he doesn’t tease.

As he leans down, his tip entering you slowly, neither of you care about the long groans you let out. He looks for your eyes as he caresses the side of your face, holding his body weight with his other shoulder planted by your side.

Your walls welcome him in as he splits you in half slowly, letting you feel every vein dragging along your walls. He bottoms out almost softly, grazing your deepest parts before snapping his hips back.

But he doesn't let the feeling of emptiness take over you, starting a pace of slow grinds and quickly sliding out that has your eyes rolling back, your nails digging in the flesh of his shoulders.

You want to squeeze your eyes shut, let the feeling of him filling you up take over you, but you can’t take your eyes off him. With his face so close, soft features analysing yours contrasting with the way your hips snap together, you’re compelled to watch only him.

Every thrust pushes him deeper and deeper, as if he was trying to mark you as his forever. Your legs barely wrap around his waist, going limp as you feel your orgasm approaching fast, quivering with every snap of his hips.

“Fuck, baby, you're trapping me.” You can feel how his pounding grows stronger with every passing second, your walls clamping hard around his giving him a hard task.

Still sensitive from his fingers, your body feels on fire. Wonwoo’s hands roam freely anywhere they want, fondling your tits and pinching your nipples until you scream, or holding your hips tight when he hits that spot inside you that has you shaking. Every touch of his feels raw on your skin, as if even the barest scratch of his nails can have you seeing stars.

“You were made for me.” Somehow, you manage to register his mumble as his hands travel down your body, holding onto your thighs for dear life as he accelerates his pace.

Marking your thighs with the shape of his hands has always been a favorite of his, and you don’t care that you’ll feel his grasp on you for the next few days.

The bed squeaks under you, the force of Wonwoo’s thrusts and your body bouncing on top of it making it shift, but the downstairs guests are not a priority for either of you.

Wonwoo’s hand lets go of one of your legs, falling limp to the side, as he begins circling his digits around your swollen clit. Your throat itches as you scream at his touch, shock and pleasure merging into one and dismantling any wish you had to be quiet, if there even was one.

Without warning, electricity flows from his body to yours, your second orgasm shattering in a million moans and curses Wonwoo fucks you through. Every limb on your body trembles as his pistoning girth stutters its pace inside you at your tightening walls.

His pulsing cock alerts you of his nearing orgasm, but he regains composure after you lost control, thrusting inside you with force again and chasing his own high as you quiver around him.

You’re drunk on him. His touch, his scent, his sounds are all you care about. Everywhere, everything is him. His cock reaches so deep inside you even your breathing’s being choked up with each pound.

Wonwoo holds himself up caging you in between his arms, his body failing as ropes of white coat your walls. The sweet chant of his groans so close to your ears does nothing to calm you down, your insides squeezing every last drop of his cum.

But even if he's done himself, he's not done with you.

After he slides out of you, with so much care you wouldn't think he was just splitting you in half a minute ago, you use all your remaining strength to keep your legs open for him. You know he loves to see his seed seeping out of you, like a work of art finally finished.

You stay there, his mesmerized eyes on your dripping core while you regulate your breathing to normal.

“Wonwoo…” Your half moan manages to draw his attention, and the look you give him is enough for him to stand up and fetch something to clean you up.

He's always been so gentle with you, cleaning up his mess and wrapping his arms around you after.

“I'm never going to forget you.” He whispers to your ear, with your back pressed against his heaving chest. Your naked bodies stick to each other like magnets, incapable of coming apart.

You know you should get up and leave the hotel as soon as possible, but leaving means also letting go of him. His arms cage you in between them as if he didn't want to leave either.

“Let's stay here a minute.” You mumble, half asleep as his warmth envelops you once again.

 

His family didn’t approve of his relationship with you. They never did. But Wonwoo didn't care about their opinions. Hell, he didn't even care about the “family business” everyone was so passionate about.

Wonwoo fought his entire adolescence to be left out of that life, for his uncle to let him live his life away from the constant danger. A highschool kid had no business joining armed robberies or stalking people to collect data. But he had no other place to go, and they provided food and shelter but made sure to let him know it wasn’t for free, even for family.

“Blood over anything else.” They'd say when he refused to join in on a job when they were “training” him. He couldn't argue with anyone, so he started looking for their approval. Maybe that way, they'd let him have more freedom.

When he met you, the new ninja one of his aunts managed to recruit, he was instantly under your spell. You helped him find his own ways to do the jobs, allowed him to set his own rules. And that just made him grow colder and colder with his family, until all he cared about was you. You helped him find the little freedom the job allowed to exist. The one his family tried so hard to bury.

When Wonwoo saw his uncle’s name on the caller ID the night he knew you were staking out your next target, a chill ran down his spine. It couldn’t mean anything good.

“If they don’t know who it is, then I can help her! Why would I take that man’s side? Just let me tell her!” He screamed to the phone, but the man on the other side wasn’t listening.

The plan was already sealed, and they just needed a pawn to carry it out. And who was more perfect than Wonwoo? Making him pay because of his resentment to his family, making you hate him so you'd leave him alone for once. It was all they always wanted.

Excuse after excuse was thrown his way. Reason after reason why the plan was the way it was and why he had to be the one to do it. Something about the importance of family, or whatever they said.

But he didn't care that those men were trying to find out his uncle's identity, it didn't even matter if they found out about his own identity. What finally made him care was you. If he didn't obey, you'd fall into the trap, and you'd be dead. Because of his family. Because of him.

So, he agreed. Knowing he'd never be able to tell you the truth. Knowing you'd hate him for the rest of his life. But at least, he could protect you.

That's why, that first night, he showed up at the empty bar with a distraction, so no one would realize you were the one stalking the underground art dealer.

That's why he made sure you'd fit right in at the fancy bar, contrasting with his dirty out of place clothes. He had to make the deal that night, but you couldn't look like you were together. He had to make sure you looked like a girl he swooned right there, another drunk person who happened to be there on the wrong night.

On your last date night, Wonwoo knew something was off. He realized you caught on to something. Because of yourself you did. Wonwoo couldn't lie to your face even if millions of dollars were promised to him.

But what could've he done? The deal was up and running, there was no backing down. He had to go on with it with the excuse that it was to save you.

And he did save you. From death at least.

Wonwoo's heart broke that day, in the passenger seat of that filthy truck, with your target rambling on about his deals and his gratefulness to him, all while his right hand tried to kick your ass. Stupid men didn't know everything was part of a plan.

The sight of your eyes as you watched him drive away got burned in the back of his eyelids like a curse. Forever haunting him.

With his family off his back, he tried reaching out to you. He found you again and again, and begged for your forgiveness like a stray dog, but you wouldn't hear him. And after weeks of trying, he really understood.

You were done with him. The one that showed him hope left. Because of him.

Your body jolts awake, hazy mind as your surroundings harshly begin to make sense. You have no idea when you fell asleep, or how much time passed since, but you can’t concentrate on finding out with all the noise. 

So much noise. 

Your ringtone. Your second phone’s ringtone. Wonwoo’s ringtone. The hotel’s phone. Everything’s ringing at the same time. 

Wonwoo’s body shifts next to yours, stirring in the bed until his arm wraps around your bare waist, holding you closer to him like it’s his second nature. It takes a second longer for your body to react to everything going on. 

“Wonwoo, something’s happening. Answer your phone.” You grab his hands closed tight around you in an intent to shake both your bodies and wake him up. A low hum is what you get as an answer. 

It pains you to drag yourself out of the warm bed, away from Wonwoo’s firm grip you so longed for. But it’s impossible to enjoy the recent developments if the incessant buzzing next to your ear doesn’t stop. 

Not much time could’ve passed since you two fell asleep, as the dark night sky is still in its full glory. It wasn’t the best decision to let each other’s warmths drift you to sleep right after you’ve finished a job.

As soon as you locate your phone and click the screen to accept the call, one of your boss’ bodyguards yells in your ear.

“You have to get out of there! Now!” The next mumbles that come out of his mouth, you barely register as your eyes connect with Wonwoo’s, his phone in his hand, probably hearing an identical order.

Every call disconnects after both of you tell your respective caller that you’re on your way. The messy room and your naked bodies tell otherwise.

For a second, you’re both frozen in place, listening closely for any suspicious sounds alerting you of any incoming danger. The silence is relieving for a second before you’re rushing to find your not fancy clothes scattered around the room.

Wonwoo, on the other hand, takes his time putting on every single clothing item.

By the time you’ve got dressed and grabbed your essentials so you can fly out of there, he’s barely put on his fancy pants he wore for the event and is buttoning up his shirt one by one.

“What are you waiting for? You have to go!” You can't comprehend why he's wasting the little time he has to finally escape and live his life as he always wanted, to… stare at you?

“Come with me.” He finally opens his mouth, hands dropping to his sides as he rounds the bed to stand in front of you.

“What?” Your question comes out as an incredulous chuckle.

“Run away with me! I'm being serious.” He takes your hands between his, like a promise, and leaves you speechless.

“I– Wh– You're crazy, Wonwoo, I can't.” You force yourself to take a step away from him, the only way you can think clearly.

“This is our chance! Don't you see it?” He screams in your face, smiling like a mad man.

“We got caught and you think that your family, who already hates me enough, is going to let me go?” You reason, but Wonwoo's now more focused on pacing around the room to try to make sense of everything.

“Exactly.” He clearly stopped listening to you at some point. “We got caught, which means my deal’s off. And I'm not going back.”

“If you still have the USB, wouldn’t he consider it?” As soon as you end your question, you know it’s pointless. Your boss is not exactly known for having mercy.

Wonwoo simply stares at you, eyes slightly closed and head tilted, another sign that it doesn’t work like that.

“Okay, I get it, don’t look at me like that.” You avoid his teasing eyes, trying to focus on grabbing your most important things and escape for once. “You’re still crazy.”

“Come with me,” stands in front of you and holds the sides of your face between his hands, “we’ll be out of the country before they can find us.”

The warmness in his gaze melts you right along with it. But what he’s asking is a much more meaningful commitment than just leaving the hotel with him. It’s a petition about how you’ll spend the rest of your life.

Maybe a fleeting life, never settling in a place before having to escape again, wouldn’t be so bad, if it’s with him. It was his family that got in between you two, and with them out of the equation, he’s still him, and you’re still you.

“Okay.” Your faces are so close he even hears your whisper.

A big smile grows on his face, beating the confusion as it drifts away, realizing that you just agreed with him. “Really?”

“Yes! I’ll go with you.” Wonwoo takes the chance to kiss you again, but as much as you don’t want him to let go, there’s a more pressing issue. “But we need to go right now.”

In the second it takes you to open your eyes after he disconnects your lips, you find him nodding as he collects the few things he still had scattered on the floor. Taking a look around, you realize there’s not enough time to clean up and pretend you were never there. You could grab your computer and phone, leaving no trace of the investigation you did on your target, but to whoever you’re running from, anything you leave behind will serve as clues.

“Do you have a lighter?” Wonwoo asks as he walks to the door, as if he read your mind.

“Yes… are you saying what I think you are?” It’s something you’ve done before. And the best way to get rid of unwanted evidence.

“Give me a few minutes to grab my stuff from my room, then we’ll light them both on fire.” He probably thought of that plan as soon as he answered the call. “Let’s meet downstairs.”

“Be careful, please.” If you blow your room up in flames before he’s out of his, he’ll be in trouble. “And quick.”

“I love it when you worry about me." The door’s barely open behind him, but there’s a lot more noise than when you two woke up. “Whatever happens, you just escape. I’ll find you.”

With that, Wonwoo runs out of the room, heading for the stairs at light speed. Your lips dry out as the seconds pass, fearing what could happen during the next few minutes, but you can’t be dramatic, there’s no time.

Behind you, the mess of your room awaits to be turned to ash. The bottles of alcohol inside the mini fridge you never touched call your name, ready to be burst against the carpeted floor and enlightened. But before doing anything, you need to decide what you can live without.

Your bags full of clothes are meaningless. Besides a black sweatshirt you quickly throw over your shoulders to cover yourself downstairs, no piece of fabric is worth risking your life. Changing into more comfortable clothes is out of the question, as you’ll draw more attention by not looking like everyone else at the event.

Outside the door, the beginning of a commotion makes itself known. It’s not on your floor, yet, but in any second it will be. Wonwoo comes to mind, a floor below you, closer to the sound of at least 10 men ready to hunt you down. The best thing you can do for him is create a distraction.

The one thing you realistically need is your primary phone, so you secure it in a small bag along with the emerald necklace. Any other device would just slow you down.

The fridge’s full of different types of alcohol, so you pop open every bottle there is and dump the liquid on the carpet, the bed, the curtains, and especially on the computer you’re forced to leave behind. It reeks so much of booze you feel dizzy until your nostrils get used to the smell.

As you stumble back and slam your door open for the last time, the faint screams of people downstairs alerts you that your warning was much more deep than your brain decided to understand.

Are you getting out of there because you wasted time sleeping with Wonwoo instead of escaping and your targets found out they were robbed? If that was the case, then you must’ve done a terrible job at hiding yourself from them. But that’s nearly impossible. Too many coincidences you have no time to think of.

You find the small lighter in your bag and flick the switch to see the orange flame erupt before your eyes. Good, it works, you’re not dead yet.

Throwing the ignitor across the room and down to the wet floor is easy. Running away from it with the heat coming right behind you isn't. The room explodes in flames just when you reach the stairs, suspiciously empty taking in account the mess you can hear from downstairs.

Step after step down, the floor below yours is too clear of smoke for your liking. Did Wonwoo not get the chance to do it? You don’t worry about that for long, but the answer might be worse.

Whines of pain echo through the hallway as you take the last steps down to Wonwoo’s floor. At least four different voices reach your ears hiding behind the wall. It’s like a vintage radio show, punch sounds repeatedly get through over the fire alarm and the screaming on the floors below. You could merge with all the people running away, pass as another scared guest, clueless as to what was happening.

Only your heart can’t allow you to leave without seeing what was happening to Wonwoo. His groans of pain are nowhere near as many as the other guys attacking him, but it’s a matter of time before they overwhelm him.

A peek over the wall confirms all you’ve been listening to. Wonwoo’s  room door was left open, but there’s no fire coming out of it. One guy’s already on the floor, unconscious against the wall with blood coming out of his lower lip. The other two have your backs facing you, taking turns attacking Wonwoo, but miserably failing.

You can’t take your eyes off the fight, one guy trying to recover from Wonwoo’s punches while the other swings and fails to land his fist on Wonwoo’s ribs. Like a scene out of a movie, he beats the two men until they’re laying on the floor, screaming in pain, incapable of getting up. But it is never as easy as it seems.

A new wave of three men make their way from the other hallway, tasked to finish what the first guys started. Wonwoo, not taken by surprise, with his bruised knuckles and bleeding eyebrow, is already ready for another fight.

When the new men realize the lifeless state of their fellow hired butchers, they stomp towards Wonwoo, who’s throwing the lighter into his room.

While one of them runs to check on the body closer to your hide spot, the other two begin throwing punches at Wonwoo, these ones managing to hit him more times, but not without receiving more in retaliation. Thud punches and broken bones are all you can hear, but you’ve hidden again, in case the man closer to you realizes Wownwoo had company all this time.

It’s the explosion that startles you out of the staircase.

The grey smoke covers the farthest part of the hallway, covering the two hitmen he was fighting, both injured on the floor, holding onto different parts of their bodies either the explosion or Wonwoo broke.

Your eyes connect with Wonwoo’s, and he manages to tilt his chin forward, the only way he can plead for you to escape, just before the last man stands up and faces him. Everything happens too fast.

You’re about to turn around and keep going down the stairs just like Wonwoo told you to do when you hear it. A gunshot. 

Then, a second freezes in time. Your head turns just when the body falls dead on the ground, revealing Wonwoo just behind him with a splatter of blood staining his face, and the gun in his hand still pointed ahead, blowing smoke. Your eyes connect again, a realization of what he did and you witnessed.

But time's not frozen, and one of the guys that was hiding behind the grey smoke follows Wonwoo's stare and sprints your way, just at the same time as the other one appears behind Wonwoo and wraps his arm around his neck.

You’re trained for this, to be thinking on your feet in case something unforeseen happens. The red fire extinguisher stands out on the side of the stairs you just went down from. Pretending to run up to escape from the man running your way, you snatch the extinguisher out of its place and blow the white smoke right in his face, disorienting him enough to swing the heavy metal right onto his hairless skull.

Before any more men appear out of nowhere, you jump over the railing and run downstairs, hoping Wonwoo’s strong enough to pull through the deadly mix of smoke.

Pushing through the big crowd formed on the bottom floor, you feel more in danger surrounded by all the guests and their judging eyes waiting to figure out if you're the one causing the mess to rat you out. Even if everyone is panicking, talking to each other trying to find out what happened and no one’s really looking at you. In all the chaos, no one looks at other people's dirty and messy clothes to analyze if they fit in.

Almost five whole minutes pass until the entrance door appears in your sight, surrounded by news anchors and their big cameras shooting to catch everything they can. Everyone closer to the door is either more preoccupied with being on live TV, or ready to run off the event and to a safe place.

Trying your best to avoid the cameras, hiding your face behind the hood of your sweatshirt and using men’s big bodies to cover the rest of you, the hotel front door gets closer and closer with each step. From the corner of your eye, a few feet to your right, you recognize at least four men that work for Wonwoo’s family, looking around trying to recognize faces in the crowd, so you run off in the opposite direction.

A black fence you didn’t perceive that first night at the hotel obstructs your view of the street, but a glimpse of a black hoodie similar to yours catches your attention running around the corner. You can’t hesitate, with the cameras going around and the surveillance team looking for you, escaping right that second is the only option.

You follow the figure without another thought, walking as fast as you can but trying not to get noticed, and see him getting inside a car you’ve never seen before and start the engine. From where you’re hiding, you can’t be seen from inside the car. But the car never drives off, like it’s waiting for someone.

“I thought you’d never come.” Wonwoo says as you pull the handle to open the passenger door.

With the engine running, Wonwoo changes the manual gear and drives the car away from the poorly lighted alleyway. 

“They were coming after me too, I had no other choice.” Your smile reveals your little lie, and he returns it as he interlocks your fingers together. “How did you know I was going to see you?”

From a distance, you can hear the fire siren arriving at the hotel, but you’re far enough that worrying about it is useless. All the mess, the robbery, the people chasing after you, it’s all gone. Already blocks away, the city lights and clear streets are like a breath of fresh air, the first minute of your new beginning with him. You’re both free. Finally.

“I told you I’d find you.”

note: i can't believe this is finally done!! thank you so so so much for reading, and to all the people who've been waiting since i posted the teaser months aho, thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

don't be shy and leave your thoughts! come yap in my inbox!

[furioussheepluminary]

𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

Pairing: stalker!perv!hyunjin x afab!reader, nonidol au, straight up strangers

Synopsis: he's a good boy. Honest. But when it comes to you? He can't help himself. You belong to him. Even though you don't know it yet. 🤷

Warnings: real suggestive, hyune is a gross perv, reader is oblivious of him, possessive!Hyune, subtle hint of murder, did I say he was gross??

A/n: wHy Do I fEel LIkE sOmeBodY'S waTchInG Meeee!! Buh yeah. I wanted to make this a nerd type jinnie but this came up instead. If you have extra eyes for errors, no you don't.

Viewers Descretion Is Advised heh...

He was on his knees, his hands clutching at your thighs, his lips parted in desperate prayer.

"Please…"

His own voice haunted him, soft and broken, echoing in his skull. He was never like this. You stood above him, eyes filled with unreadable amusement. His fingers burned to touch you, but in his mind, you were cruel.

"You want to touch me, Hyunjin?"

He whimpered, nodding frantically.

"Beg."

And he did. His voice cracked as he pleaded, hot and ruined. But just before he could feel your skin against his—

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t reality.

His nightly alarm ripped him from the fantasy. His eyes snapped open, chest heaving, body twitching with the aftershocks of his release. The stickiness between his thighs made him shudder, disgust curling in his gut. Hyunjin lay tangled in his sheets, sweat beading along his forehead, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. That was pathetic of him, making a mess over a few words from your lips.

"Fuck," he whispered, running a hand through his damp hair. He sat up slowly, blinking at the dim light of his LEDs. The mess on his sheets was undeniable. His jaw clenched.

This wasn’t the first time.

Hyunjin moved on autopilot, stripping his bed with practiced ease. He shoved the soiled sheets into the laundry bin, his hands gripping the fabric a little too tightly. His body still buzzed from the dream; the ghost of your voice still sweet in his ears.

But he had more important things to do. Especially at 2:00am in the morning.

He turned everything on. The glow of neon green bled into every dark corner of his room. Security feeds flickered across his monitors; a digital shrine dedicated to you.

Padding barefoot to his desk, he clicked open the surveillance feeds. The middle monitor flickered to life, and there you were—curled in bed, skin soft beneath the green hue of his night-vision cameras.

His heartbeat slowed to something steady. He zoomed in on you and his eyes roamed over the gentle rise and fall of your chest, the way your fingers twitched in sleep. Did you dream of him too? His tongue darted out to wet his lips. No. You weren’t even aware of him.

Yet.

Hyunjin leaned closer to the screen, his breath fogging up the glass as he watched you breathe.

He wasn’t primarily this akward and neither was he much of a stalker. He did know somethings about digital security and all. When he saw you the first time all the sane thoughts flew out of his head. Before you, Hyunjin had nothing.

Nothing mattered, at least. Sure, he woke up, ate, breathed, slept. The usual routine. He went through the motions of a life he didn’t care for. He felt hollow and detached from most of the problems of his world. He had tried to fill his void with multiple distractions- art, music, indulgences in things that could make the common man love. But for Hyunjin, nothing ever lasted.

It was a mistake really, seeing you. A glorious life-altering accident, though.

Hyunjin had been sitting in a quiet corner of a well-known library around the block, flipping through a book he had no real interest in, when you walked in. At first, it was just a glance, a flicker of movement in his peripheral vision.

God, but your voice?

That voice of yours as you greeted the librarian cracked something inside of him. He looked up fully this time taking in your perfection, your stance. He was ruined now.

His grip om the book tightened, his breath caught, his pulse spiking. Never, had he felt something his…visceral. Hell, you didn’t even notice him. You had walked past his table with your intoxicating scent lingering in the air.

Like stupid puppy, Hyunjin followed.

No, not physically, c’mon I’m weird but not that weird. I was watching her. Even after she left the library.

Yes, he was. Every moment of your movements. Since you appeared at the library often, he would come often. To see how you nibble on your nails when the book was really captivating, how you’d check your watch to see if you were running late. Just simple, small things he thought were cute to watch.

Then it escalated. He lingered outside your coffee shop, sat at the back of the café to read your order from your lips. He walked past your apartment building when you got home from work late just to know where you live.

And then one night under the cover of darkness, he stood outside your window. His ragged breath fogging up the window. You had no idea, of course going on with your night per usual.

And fuck, it felt so, so good.

It made him feel, for the first time and Hyunjin didn’t want to turn back.

__

Hyunjin sat hunched over his desk, the glow of the monitors casting sickly green light over his face. His fingers twitched over the keyboard, adjusting the angles, zooming in. He was motivated to buy a tech set just to watch you, him told himself it was to ensure that you had security cameras that actually functioned.

Liar.

You stirred.

His breath hitched as your body shifted beneath the covers, the faintest movement sending a jolt of something filthy down his spine. Your legs stretched, the blanket slipping just enough to reveal the curve of your thigh. He exhaled shakily, fingers gripping the edge of his desk.

Then, you moved. He leaned in. You sat up, hair messy, eyes half-lidded with sleep. You yawned, rubbing your face before swinging your legs over the side of the bed. Hyunjin felt like he was going to be sick with excitement.

Where are you going, baby?

He already knew. He had your habits memorized down to the way you sighed before standing up. The way your footsteps padded lazily against the floor.

Bathroom.

The grainy black-and-green feed followed you as you dragged yourself toward the restroom. The second you disappeared behind the door, Hyunjin groaned and slumped back in his chair.

His hand drifted downward, hovering over his waistband.

No. Not again. Not yet.

He needed to see you first. He stayed like that, body tensed, until you finally returned to bed. Even as you rolled onto your side, pulling the blankets up, he still watched. His head felt heavy, eyes drooping, but he didn’t move. He tried so hard to focus on you as you slept.

So beautiful…

The next alarm jolted him awake. He slept off again. He blinked rapidly, disoriented, before his gaze snapped to the monitors again. Where were you? Hyunjin clicked through the feeds, hands shaking.

Kitchen.

Hyunjin’s lips parted, a strangled noise caught in his throat. He glanced at his wall clock. Nine in the morning. Saturday.

Saturdays. God, he loved Saturdays.

You stood at the stove, your back to the camera, wearing nothing but a crop top and tiny shorts. Your hair was pinned up lazily, your skin on full display. His stomach twisted.

His fingers dug into his thighs.

Your bare legs, smooth and glowing under the kitchen light. Your waist, the dip of it, the skin just barely peeking out from beneath your top.

And your face—

You were still so fucking perfect.

Hyunjin swallowed hard.

Need touch you so bad, Y/N.

He wanted to run his hands over every inch of skin you exposed, press his fingers into your thighs, bite down on your shoulder just to feel you jolt. The image of it made him ache, his breathing growing heavy. He imagined you in his apartment, cooking breakfast for him, dressed exactly like that. Maybe even less than that.

He clenched his jaw, shaking the thought away. He wasn’t stupid.

You weren’t his. But you would be.

----

Hyunjin’s hands trembled as he slid the key into your door. A perfect replica. He had stolen your original a few months ago for only a few minutes, just long enough to make a copy before slipping it back unnoticed. And now, he was inside.

He always came visiting when you weren’t around, making lunch getting, comfortable in your clothes. Today you left to visit a friend who had just gave birth (I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but you talk really loudly when you’re excited.)

His breath hitched as he stepped into your bedroom, the scent of you wrapping around him like a drug. Soft. Sweet. Addictive. His knees nearly buckled. He shut the door behind him, his fingers grazing over your belongings—your bedside lamp, your half-full water bottle, your hairbrush tangled with strands of your hair.

Your bed.

The sheets were messy from this morning, still holding the faintest imprint of where your body had been. His stomach twisted, and he let out a shaky breath as he took slow, careful steps toward it. He lowered himself onto the mattress, hands gripping your blanket as he buried his face into your pillow.

Fuck.

It smelled just like you.

His eyes fluttered shut, his fingers clutching at the fabric like a starved man. He could live here. He could stay in this bed forever, wrapped in the scent of your shampoo, your skin, your warmth.

His hips shifted against the sheets, and a whimper escaped his lips before he could stop it.

He was so fucking hard.

The thought of you sleeping here, rolling around in these sheets, completely unaware of how much you were being watched—it made him dizzy. He sat up suddenly, gripping the bottle of your perfume from the dresser. His hands were unsteady as he popped the cap off and sprayed it onto his hoodie, onto his wrists, onto his neck—

That’s what he thought as he inhaled deeply, drowning in the artificial presence of you. His head spun, his entire body hot with feverish need. He lay back down, eyes locked onto the ceiling, hips pressing against your mattress. What if you were here?

What if he woke up next to you every morning, watching you stretch and yawn, your body warm from sleep? What if he rolled over, tangled his fingers in your hair, and whispered—

"No one else gets to have you like this, understood?"

The thought sent him spiraling. His hand drifted down, palm pressing into the bulge between his legs. A soft, desperate moan slipped out. He rocked into your sheets, bit down on your pillow, breathed you in like his life depended on it.

And then—

"Fuck—"

White-hot pleasure ripped through him, his body twitching, throbbing, spilling over himself in a filthy, obsessive mess. His hips jerked one last time before he slumped against the mattress, panting, ruined, completely drunk on you.

For a few minutes, he just lay there, staring up at your ceiling, his entire body pulsing with aftershocks.

But then—he realized.

He had made a mess. Hyunjin let out a slow, shaky laugh, sitting up as he ran a hand through his damp hair. His gaze flickered quickly to your sheets, checking if he’d left a stain.

No? Thank God.

He should feel ashamed. But if he had done it, you’d be sleeping with a part of him tonight.

__

Hyunjin sat in the dark, his fingers digging into his thighs so hard that his nails left crescent-shaped marks in his skin. His entire body trembled, his breathing shallow and uneven.

Because he was watching you. You came home late, Hyunjin could pardon that but not only that, you brought someone over. It was rare to see you with someone else of the opposite gender in your home, but when you did bring them over Hyunjin was more than furious. The monitor in front of him flickered with the grainy image of you—his perfect, beautiful, innocent girl—laughing at something another man had said.

Another man.

Some piece of shit standing in his spot, breathing his air, sitting too fucking close to you. You didn’t tell him you were going on a date this evening. Was it what you planned? Hyunjin’s grip on the edge of his desk tightened. His jaw ached from how hard he was clenching it. His heartbeat was thunderous, deafening, furious. He watched as you leaned over, playfully shoving the man’s shoulder. His stomach twisted when you smiled at him like that. Like he mattered.

Like he was worthy of you.

His vision blurred with rage as he saw the man place his hand on your thigh.

No.

No, no, no, no—no one touches what belongs to Hyunjin.

His fingers twitched, the overwhelming urge to reach through the screen and rip that hand away flooding his entire system. He should be there. He should be the one sitting next to you. Holding your hand. Making you laugh. Whispering in your ear.

The man leaned in closer, too fucking close.

Hyunjin’s breath hitched, his entire body tensing— And then you stood up. He exhaled sharply, watching as you walked away, into the kitchen. The man stayed behind, scrolling through his phone, completely unaware that he was being watched.

Hyunjin’s lips curled.

He tilted his head, eyes narrowing as his fingers ghosted over the switchblade resting on his desk. He had his own history with the few men you’d brought over. Sure, it was…unethical. Everything he did for you was.

But the man wasn’t meant to last.

No one else was meant to be in your life but him.

And if he had to make that clear over and over…

He would.

What did I write...

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MASTERLIST:

~kc 💗

[livinghalfway]

Younger Years Pt. 7

Masterlist

Summary: Damian gets temp de-aged to 6yrs old; cue him asking where his twin is. This is how everyone finds out about Danny's existence. Word Count: 1254

Danny was really starting to regret wanting Sam and Tucker to come with him to Gotham as he stands in front of the planetarium’s dedication plaque. The words themselves almost feel as if they are mocking him; opening old wounds once thought healed. 

“To the one who told me that all I needed to do was look towards the stars to find him. — Damian Wayne” 

He remembers the day he said those words to Damian. It was the night before they would be going on separate missions, hundreds of miles apart. Despite it not being said Danny knew that Damian didn't like the idea of them not being together. The words were meant to be a way to bring comfort to his brother. 

Danny didn't know how he felt seeing them, knowing that Damian remembered what he had said all those years ago. He didn't think he liked it though as his chest started to feel tight the more he stared at them.

While stuck in his own head and feeling Danny failed to notice Sam and Tucker coming up from behind him. 

"Maybe an old friend?" Sam wonders, "His mom or another family member? The person might not even exist though; could have just built the building and dedicated it to a fake person to make it seem more special." 

"No way! No one is going to make a building purposely seem more special in Gotham; that's just asking for it to be destroyed." Tucker counters before lightly elbowing him in the side. "What about you Danny, what do you think? Real or fake?"

"I- I think we should head inside, and find our seats before the show starts!" Grabbing both Sam and Tucker's arm he pulls them towards the doors with him. 

Once inside Danny lets go of his friends and takes a look around the dome shaped room. As he does the feeling in his chest returns ten folds. Damian obviously had this built for him, and he just can't figure out why. 

Why after all this time has his brother decided to become sentimental about his supposed death; about him? It's the only thought on his mind as the lights dim and stars begin to cover the ceiling. Danny can almost block everything around him out, and pretend that he's back in Nanda Parbat with Damian.

It's comforting just as much as it is torturous. 

It’s not until the end of the show when Danny finally tunes back in to what the speaker is saying, and it’s not something he’s excited to hear. “-I’d also like to give a big thank you to the Waynes for joining us with their presence here today for a surprise interview! Especially Damaian Wayne, without his contributions none of us would have gathered here today to learn about the stars. Mr. Wayne, a few words if you please?” 

No.

No fucking way is this really happening. Of course the brother that he is trying his best to avoid is here on the same day as him. Just his fucking luck; now to find a way out of here without gaining Damian’s attention. 

Which is definitely easier said than done, especially when Tucker starts rapidly hitting his arm and whispering into his ear, “Dude! I can’t believe this, the Waynes are here! What are the odds?”

Danny doesn’t give his friend any sort of answer though as he looks at his brother for the first time in nearly four years. He’s of course seen pictures of Damian ever since the announcement of him joining Father in Gotham, but it’s a different feeling being so close yet so far to someone who was once so important in his life. Someone who he now needs to hide from and quickly.

Just as Damian and Father are turning to face the crowd Danny is grabbing Tucker's hat, and places it on himself while making sure to lower his head enough as a way to block his face from view. He can't have the Bats on his tail the very first day he's here. 

"Thank you for having us Mrs. Smith, my son and I are so excited to be here today!" Father grins brightly as he shakes the speaker's hand. "I knew as soon as Damian mentioned wanting a planetarium built that it was going to be an amazing idea." 

"That actually brings me to my first question. Damian, what made you want a planetarium built?"

"I was taught a lot about the stars as a child, and I wanted others to get the chance to learn about them as well," Damian simply states. 

"Can I ask who taught you? Is it the same person who you dedicated the building to?" 

Danny watches as his brother takes a breath, he's hesitating, before speaking in a soft tone, "Yes, they are one in the same. We would talk and go over the starry sky nearly every night. He taught me the courage of stars. How life carries on endlessly even after death. He’d explain the infinite, how rare and beautiful it is to even exist. I’d give anything to hear him say it one more time; that the universe was made to be seen by my eyes.”

A ringing is the only thing he hears now as he continues to stare at Damian. How dare his brother act like his death affected him; he has no right to do so. Where was this sadness when Ra's dealt the final blow?

He doesn't want to be angry at Damian, he already has spent far too much time being angry at someone who was also in an impossible situation that fateful day. It's just so hard not to be at this very moment. 

… Danny missed Damian. He missed being able to talk to him. It was easy to ignore and forget when they were miles apart, but that's impossible to do when his brother is right in front of him in a building he had built in tribute to him. 

Anger is easier to deal with than sadness. 

"-nny! Danny!" Sam grabs his shoulder and gives him a little shake as she whisper shouts his name. 

Looking around he sees that everyone is starting to stand to leave now; Damian is no longer anywhere in sight. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm good. I'm here. Let's- Let's go!" 

He stands quickly while swatting Tucker's hands away from grabbing his hat back; Danny will return it when he's sure the coast is clear. Danny practically runs to the front door as he keeps looking over his shoulder for any sign of Damian. He can't get caught now that he's so close to getting away. 

Danny takes one more last look behind him, noting Sam and Tucker not far behind, before throwing open the front door. Taking only a few steps outside before running into another figure; both grabbing onto one another as to not fall. 

"Danyal?" 

Snapping his eyes up he meets the gaze of none other than Damian Wayne. 

His twin must have seen the surprised recognition in his eyes because Damian tightens his grip and repeats himself with a growl, "Danyal." 

One second he's staring at his brother's face, and the next he finds himself running down the street. Danny knows he's a coward for running, but this is not something that he can handle right now. So he runs and runs and runs until turning into an alley, collapsing on the ground. 

Danny isn't sure how long he stayed in that alley, it must have been hours by now, when he hears multiple sets of footsteps seemingly approaching him. With a deep breath he gains enough courage to lift his head to see who exactly is now upon him. 

[tubbytarchia]

Why Shortgrass is AWESOME and why you guys should care RIGHT NOW please

They admire each other's building skills A LOT a lot. To the point that it's basically their own language where they just communicate through compliments and block choice discussion. The horse rivalry is the one thing everyone knows about, but I don't see anyone commenting on the way they get at each other, especially the things Bdubs proposes, all "I hate him now. I didn't think I was capable of hate. I'm gonna get good at PVP. I'm gonna get him. I'm gonna blow him up. Joel is evil and fucked up", literally playing out his murder plans, only to then become a little fangirl as soon as he's in Joel's presence. Joel doesn't show it as much but he's the same way. They're literally 👉👈 at each other. Bdubs is also so susceptible to praise. Although he often plays up his reactions, you know he loves a good compliment and he knows any he gets from his senpai idol guy Joel are genuine

This is especially well showcased when Bdubs was showing off his stalls that have been trapped, and Joel thinking that something is up. Bdubs dedicated an entire episode to this, hyping himself up, and then them actually interacting is tense but extremely polite. And then that whole interaction is capped off with Joel: "Wow I though I was gonna die but this has been really pleasant. Thanks". Then they like playfully taunt each other before Joel flies off and Bdubs goes "That's exactly how that was supposed to go... simple and friendly... I got him played like a fiddle.... yes I do..." after accomplishing nothing but giving Joel a nice little showcase of his new build

That is to say, it's very cute that Bdubs despite his expressions of Joel being despicable gets exposed to his genuine side and how they tend to be very sweet towards each other (examples below). It serves as an interesting but nice contrast to the Life series, where a lot of players (some more than others) go off of the same belief, that Joel is a rabid dog in need of being put down. Joel very much plays into being a rascal, but he means no real harm (eg reassuring Bdubs he wouldn't kill his important horses and you know he won't) and it so easily becomes playful and mutual banter between them

Anyway bunch of moments of them being cute or something that I can't and don't want to sum up organically

At the start of a SL session, Joel is yellow and on 8 hearts, is asking the Mounders for their hearts, Bdubs is hesitant but goes "you deserve it". Then he lies to Etho that Joel was so intimidating and scary and forced him. Then he lies to Impulse that Joel was pathetic and begging for it.??

In one episode of SL, Bdubs tries to help Joel guess someone's task by guiding him to Grian, but Grian's task was to get called out so Joel helps him succeed instead and Bdubs feels really bad about it. Then like 2 episodes later he's, again, sharing intel to help him guess multiple tasks. Something about the way he's above ground talking to Joel for an extended period of time at multiple points while Joel is down under working on an exp farm calling him his favorite snitch (the only person Bdubs doesn't snitch on is Etho. Naturally)

And also Bdubs praising Joel a bunch when he sees him actually digging out the farm. He's praising Joel as if it were his task to do so (like Scar with Pearl in that other SL episode) but he's just. doing this just because

When Bdubs' task is to get someone to leave whilst he's telling a story, Joel eventually does, and Bdubs seeks him out later just to tell him "I knew you would. I knew you got my back"

Joel accidentally shoots Bdubs during the SL finale, he feels awful about it and Bdubs tells himself to eat his golden apple, which poetically reminds Joel to eat his. And then Scott uses Bdubs' death to taunt Joel before killing him too 😐

"Good morning sunshine!" (Joel in response: "morning mr dub")

"Are you trying to swim in lava, angel?"

Bdubs completely unprompted: "Be calm and cool and collected, like Joel is in moments like these, not scared of anything"

Joel mimicking Bdubs in WL going "you see, Minecraft is like a canvas..." and Bdubs reacting to it

Bdubs saying "Hey, don't- calm down, kay? We're gonna get you out of this, okay?" to Joel while Joel's trying to sell him purpur against his will

Bdubs fixing Joel's trapdoors even whilst in the process of horse cursing him

Bdubs talking about how he wants to beat Joel in PVP "for stealing Etho" and then also calling him a good builder unprompted. He's so fanfiction

And the statue Joel built of Bdubs ofc

(More from you guys that I forgot!!) Joel all "different season, you've no reason to hate me now right" at the start of WL and Bdubs goes "no of course not. Except I wanna kill you"

Their banter in general in their episode of "Is that Sheep looking at Me?" (And Gem)

If anyone knows more you've gotta tell me

<33 I love u Bdubs you're so good to my boys

[skteezcursed]

❝greedy little darlin❞ — p.sh.

PAIRING. frat!park seonghwa x fem!reader.

GENDER AND WARNINGS. smut. dom!seonghwa. switch!sub!reader. university au. frat members ateez. sex talk (among adults). drinking (not too much, but just enough). pet names (mostly darling, reader is called slut once, good girl and handsome, prob more but i cant remember now). blowjob. hair pulling. cunnilingus. tongue fucking. over stimulation. sex with a condom (please remember to do that irl). light chocking. three? slaps on the ass. not proof read. i guess that's all, lmk if i forgot something.

SYNOPSIS. everyone knew you and Seonghwa were into each other, your friends even places a bet on when that would happen, although it never did. until he gets tired of your antics and decides to put you in your place.

RATING. R (+18) - MDNI.

WORD COUNT. ~5,6k.

NOTES. english is not my first language. part of the ateez frat boys (that i will still make so give me a moment) and of the atz house event you can't out rage us. shout out to @bro-atz for helping coming up with the idea for this, and to @seulrinnie-rinrin for betaing part of this. hopefully this is me leaving my slump so yeah, bye ♡.

IMPORTANT. this is a work of fiction, it has zero intent on portraying how any of the people quoted here are in real life.

CREDS. dividers by cafekitsune ♡

Nothing was ever simple with Seonghwa. 

Ever since the beginning, it was as if something was pulling you two closer and closer, the tension growing at each encounter. At first, everyone thought it was because you two didn’t know each other, the thing is that, after you met, the tension didn’t falter, it actually increased exponentially, to the point where your friends were making bets as to when and who would break first. 

Park Seonghwa is the type of guy that makes you question everything. Because how can a man be so drop dead gorgeous with minimum to no effort? How can he look the squishiest human being with those adorable boba eyes, but also have the devilish look on his face when his eyes became siren and the smirk in present, making you question if you should really keep that line between friends high, blocking your passage, blocking you to reach his collar and kiss him like you need oxygen, to feel his marvelous tongue in between your folds, his hair in between your fingers as he -

“Earth to (y/n), you there?”

“Yeah, yeah sorry,” you looked around your friends with an apologetic look before focusing on the food in front of you, sighing. “What are we talking about again?”

“Damn, you truly dozed off,” the chuckle Mingi gave, was followed by some of the others as San just turned to you with that sweet smile of his, the dimples present, a reminder he too, was holding back a laugh. 

“Since midterms are over, we were planning on having a little get together at the frat, no big party, just a few drink with friends, it’s not like any of us have time to organize it anyways,” you nodded taking another bite of your food, the movement being noticed by San who exchanged glances with the others. “So, can we count you on?”

“Don’t you consider me a friend, Sannie?” Everyone laughed as you leaned to kiss San’s cheek, apologizing. “I’ll be there, just let me know when.”

  “We are all gonna be there, by the way,” the knowing smile that Wooyoung sent your way, made you want to push his face against his plate, “in case you want to dress up.”

  “Why would I dress up to a get together with you guys?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because Hwa is gonna be there.”

“And you have a huge crush on him,” Jongho continued Yunho’s line and you could see Yeosang opening his mouth.

“And let's not forget the sexual tension there is!”

“You two should honestly just fuck already and end everyone’s suffering at this point.”

“What the fuck you guys talking about, and another word from you,” you pointed at Wooyoung who had made the last remark, “and I’ll shove your face against the plate!”

“Oh, kinky, should we let Hwa know?”

Yunho commented and all the boys bursted into laughter as all you wanted was to be buried six feet under. 

  Of course you had a crush on Seonghwa. Of course whenever you two were together there was this small flirtatious situation, and the sexual tension was definitely high whenever you two were close in a room, but that didn’t mean anything. 

“I’m sure he’ll cave in soon and fuck you,” San’s words brought you back, making you eye him slightly shocked. “What? He thinks you are hot, he even said it to us the first time you two met, but I also don’t know why he hasn't done shit.”

“Because he likes to play with his food before eating it.”

Wooyoung jumped from the table the same second he finished his sentence already running from you trying to slap him, making everyone at the table and around you seven to laugh at the situation.

“I’ll fucking end you, Jung Wooyoung!”

  You dolled up, he knew you would.

  You always did whenever you two were to meet, only to be even more irresistible in his eyes. The fact that his brother’s from the fraternity knew how badly he wanted you, didn’t help as they would always create situations for the two of you to get close. Not that neither bothered to argue. Seonghwa had tried to reason with the younger ones, but as soon as he realized you didn’t really care, even indulged whenever it happened, made him decide to test how far you were willing to go.

  As if you knew about it, you played along. 

You accepted his drinks, laughed at his jokes, shiver under his touch, lean towards him when he was close. Yet, you would also pull your own strings. You knew he wouldn’t be jealous, you noticed on the first few tries on how he simply would smile or laugh at your useless attempts at making him feel anything when you were with someone else, which was not the case when he was the one trying to make you jealous, even if unintentionally. 

So you changed your methods. From revealing clothes and trying to make him jealous, you simply decided to make yourself present, being there if needed, and flee if that was not the case, you stopped trying to get his attention, deciding to enjoy your time and maybe, just maybe, get with someone to alleviate the ache between your thighs whenever Seonghwa got too handsy with you before leaving you high and dry.

  ATZ frat was known, as any other house on the Greek Road, to be just to mess around, never to create a relationship. Although you knew Wooyoung since you were kids, you knew that to be true whenever you and the other boys would get together, even San who appeared to be the one who leans mostly towards dating, would fuck around from time to time. The odds weren’t in your favor, so you decided to brush it off, to have fun with your friends, to go to their frat from time to time, and that was when your ‘relationship’ with Seonghwa started to change. 

Both of you knew that this was never going forward. The moment you realized that, it was like something shifted in him, he started to go towards you whenever you met, regardless if it was at the frat or not. You knew that didn’t mean he was going to accept your advances, especially after you found out Hongjoong had established a rule that family and close friends from the members were off limits after a complicated situation happened a few weeks back and that you were highly aware of.

  “So, you guys actually decided to throw a low profile party, hm? That’s a first,” you comment as Seonghwa opened the door and took a step back to let you in the frat before taking your jacket off, which he quickly took it in his hands as he closed the door. “Is anyone else coming?”

  You asked, looking around, trying to see anyone, but the house looked rather empty. “I don’t know, but the main entertainment has finally arrived,” he purred against your ear, making you shiver as you smirked, keeping your composure. “Care for something to drink?”

  “Sure, I’ll have whatever you are having,” you answer quickly, trying to brush off the shiver as you follow him towards the kitchen. “Heard it was a get together with friends… Was kind of expecting more people, if I’m honest.”

  “Anyone in particular?” Seonghwa asked as he handed you a bottle of soju, clacking the bottles before bringing it to his lips, predatory eyes scanning your face. “Or are you asking to be sure you will be the only one here?”

  As he took a step closer to you, you changed the weight of your foot before bringing the soju bottle to your own lips. “No one in particular, and we both know I don't mind sharing attention.”

  Your eyes wandered across his face, lingering on his smirk before your fingers played with the necklace that hung low on his sheer shirt, the small opening where the necklace hang allowing your fingers to brush along the skin, as you noticed the smirk on Seonghwa’s lips grow slightly, his tongue poking out before you move away from him with a smirk.

  “C’mon man, a hundred!”

  “Fuck off Wooyoung, I’m not joining,” Mingi said pushing Wooyoung slightly chuckling as both their eyes landed on you, “it will be just another night and you know it, you will lose money.”

  “So why you scared of betting?” 

  Wooyoung smirked at Mingi with raised eyebrows. “What you two up to, this time?”

  “Betting if you and Hwa finally give in and fuck,” Wooyoung says bluntly making you scoff as you took another sip of your drink as you watch Seonghwa from afar talking to a few other people. “I’m betting it will, but the others are sure it’s just another night where you two keep with your cat and mouse game.”

  “He knows I’m down, it’s in his lane,” you chuckle at Wooyoung’s words as you finish your drink. “I’m getting another bottle, do you guys want it?”

  Both denied as Wooyoung continued to patronize Mingi, making you shake your head as you moved past Seonghwa, a little too close for comfort as your hand brush on his ass and you notice his eyes fall on you as you kept going to the kitchen, giving him a smirk as you open the fridge to get another bottle of soju.

  “That’s your fourth bottle,” you hear Seonghwa’s voice, seeing him eye you from the counter, the bottle on his hands half empty, “shouldn’t you slow down?”

  “Oh, is the mighty Park Seonghwa worried about me?” You smirk as you choose your bottle, opening as you eyed him. “That’s adorable, and I would actually believe it if it was a different scenario…”

  “Why do you think I’m not?” 

  His eyes followed your form as you walked towards him, his hand instinctively finding your hip pressing it lightly, as he noticed your breath hitch as the bottle met your lips. 

  “Because we are at a party, a chill one, where nothing major is gonna happen…” Your eyes followed down to his sheer shirt, nails tracing down, touching his skin and abs over the shirt as you reached his pants, fingers vagally there before it went to the hook of the pants. “And I’m getting bored.”

  His hand on your hips pressed, making you bite your lip as he took a step closer, his lips hovering over yours as his eyes studied every reaction. “So you intend to get drunk?”

  “It’s not a solution, but it’s a possibility,” you say as your body gets closer to him, the freaking magnetic relationship you had whenever you two were together. “You have pretty friends…”

  Your eyes avert for the people behind Seonghwa, who follows your eyes as it lands on some of his colleagues and friends before reaching yours with a small knowing smirk. 

  “I don’t think they are available…”

  “Funny, because some of them already engaged in a few conversations with me,” you chuckle watching him, as one of your fingers extended and touched near his crotch area lightly, “and i can’t say I’m not interested in what they have to say…”

  “Then have your fun with them, I’ll be waiting to hear about it later,” he hinted with raised eyebrows to you as his bottle reached his lips, his eyes never leaving you. 

  “Oh, so they are the kiss and tell type…” You murmur looking at his friends once more. “Might as well prepare for a performance then.”

  “You wouldn’t need to if they knew what they were doing,” his eyes burned on you, as a smirk played on his lips, his hand pulling you as it reached your lower back, pressing you against his, against the bulge in his pants. His lips brushed against your ear, “but hey, if you are gonna fake better put on a memorable show, which I’m sure you are more than capable of doing.”

  “I always do,” your voice sounded steady but your body was betraying you, as usual. “Wouldn’t be bad to not have to fake it everytime.”

  Your hands moved between your bodies as you squeezed his bulge lightly, hearing him wince. “Feeling brave today, are we?”

  “No, just needing to relieve some stress, after all, finals are finally over.”

  You brushed your lips against Seonghwa’s before squeezing his bulge once more before pushing him away with the hand that held the soju bottle as you moved past him, smirking. 

  “So this is how we are playing tonight?” Seonghwa said under his breath. “Good luck with your boy toy search.”

  He said a little louder, which you only raised your hand dismissing his comment, as his eyes lingered on your figure. The pants becoming a bother. Finals week had taken its toll on him, and just like you, he also needed a release. His eyes trailed on you as he watched you move, talk, touch and laugh at everyone's commentaries, a knowing glint in his eyes, the smirk always present as he called in one of his friends.

  As it usually happened, neither you nor Seonghwa engaged once more throughout the night as you went on and on talking to every male, choosing if you’d bring any of them back home with you. The soju bottle now empty as your eyes wander on the last choices.

  “Found them already?”

  The amusement in Seonghwa voice already told the smirk plastered on his lips. “Maybe…”

  “I’ll take that as no then,” you felt him get closer to you, his front pressing on your side. “I may have someone for you, if you want.”

  “Didn’t know you were into voyeurism,” your eyes quickly shot him a confused but amused look. 

  “And you seemed too bothered right now, so what is your answer?” 

  His hot breath against your neck and ear as you felt his lips touch your skin as his eyes studied you, as yours followed around the room trying to catch a glimpse of his friends, missing one as you turned to him with a smirk. Lips almost touching as you did, feeling his hand on your lower back. 

  “I guess you got my taste correctly.”

  “Darling, when I say I know you, I mean it.”

Lips quickly found your cheekbone as his hand pulled you closer to his body. You held any sound not giving him the satisfaction.

  “Cocky as always, aren’t you?” You chuckle but not move away from him, your nails scratching his abs through the shirt and subtly, as you feel them contract. “Why don’t you go get him then? I’m getting rather tired.”

  “He went upstairs though, should we go fetch him?” His eyes were siren-like, a small smirk as he took your wrist, guiding you up the stairs. The look from some of the boys from the frat only made you laugh as you shook your head. “What’s funny?”

  Seonghwa asks curiously as you reach the second floor. “Some of the boys looked at you guiding me.”

  “I guess that’s fair,” he chuckled as well, his demeanor changing a little as he kept his hand on your wrist guiding you through the rooms, reaching the one you knew to be his. “Someone spilled a drink on his shirt, he asked to borrow one of mine.”

  Your eyebrows raised, nodding still processing what was happening, as Seonghwa was a master of teasing you and it wouldn’t be the first time he’d guide you to the rooms — or his in specific — only to get you even more frustrated. Your eyes studied his features as his hand opened his room motioning for you to enter. 

   “I’m not fucking your friend in your room, Seonghwa.”

  “Who says anything on those lines, darling?” A chuckle left his lips. “Now, will you be a good girl and enter the room, or don’t you trust me to have your best interest in heart?”

  You bit your lip, noticing his gaze fall on them for a second before you motion to enter his room, eyes looking for the friend who was indeed with a shirt from Seonghwa and a stained one in hand. 

  “Oh, hello,” the boys said moving away from his phone, putting his shirt in a corner before his eyes fell on you and then Seonghwa. “Wingman, hm?”

  You shook your head at his words, noticing Seonghwa nod as you focused on the boy that took a few steps towards you. 

  “A good wingman, nonetheless,” your voice was laced with amusement as his friend reached closer with a smirk, his hand going to cup your face. “Now, shall we leave?”

  “Just give us a second, will you, darling?” Seonghwa said against your neck as you noticed both leave you, allowing you to take a breather. Of course Seonghwa would pull something like that. Few seconds later you hear footsteps and the movement of the door. “Thank you for being such a good girl, darling.”

  At that, the door closed the same second Seonghwa’s hands found yours hips pulling you against his front making you gasp, before chuckling lightly.

  “Smart, I gotta give you that.”

  “Couldn’t have made it easy for you to figure it out, could I?” 

  His lips quickly found your neck as you moved your head to the side giving him access as you arched your back, pressing your ass against his bulge. One hand found his on your hip as the other went to the back of his neck tangling on his long locks.

  “Of course, what would be the fun in that?” You chuckle before gasping as you felt him suck on the skin of your neck, as you put pressure on his nape, feeling his right hand lower towards your exposed thigh, the tips quickly wander to your inner thighs going up teasing your clothed core. “If you are just teasing this time, I swear —”

  “I’m done with your antics, darling, it’s time to put you in your place.” The whimper that left your mouth made him chuckle against your neck as he put pressure on your clothed clit making you jolt. “C’mon darling, I think we postponed this for far too long,” his hands quickly turned you to face him, one hand on your chin before going to your hair. “Why don’t we start with you on your knees?”

  You oblige letting him push you down, until your knees felt the floor, his crotch eye leveled, your mouth watering as his other hand undid his pants, the one on your head entangling with your hair as his pants fell, leaving him only in his underwear, the outline of his cock on display as you swallow hard. A light caress on your scalp was the only ‘okay’ you got before your hands quickly went to his waistband, lowering the underwear slowly. 

  His cockhead glowing with precum as you licked your lips feeling him pull your head near his pelvis, your hands pulling the rest of his underwear down as his cockhead quickly met the touch of your lips. The groan that left his lips making you smile as the pool in between your legs grew. As one hand finished pulling down his underwear, the other quickly met the base of his cock. 

  “Such a handsome face with such a pretty cock,” you said with a smile before opening your mouth, taping his tip on your tongue, feeling his fingers tighter on your head. 

  “Such a pretty filthy mouth, I wonder how it would look filled with my cum.”

  Without a warning, he pushed your head down his length, moaning as your lips and tongue made contact with his cock, your hand working on the base of the cock as the other rested on his thigh. In swift movements you started to little by little take him in your mouth, gagging lightly from time to time, before he let you breath, the spit line connecting your swollen lips to his cock only making him twitch before fucking your mouth once more. 

  “Fuck, darling, do you like when I fuck your mouth like that, hm?” One of his hands caressed your hollowed cheeks as he slowed his movements a bit, to be able to look at you. “Such a pretty little thing for me, taking me in your mouth so well like that, I wonder how your cunt feels if this is how well your mouth treats me.”

  You mumble with your mouth around his cock, making the vibration run through his body as one of your hands went up his abs under the shirt, which he quickly took it off, throwing somewhere along the pants and underwear as you started to bob your head, hollowing your cheeks, one hand on the base of his cock, sometimes joining in the movement your head was making. The sounds and cusses that went out of Seonghwa’s mouth only made you wetter by the second, if it wasn’t for your damped panties, you sure would have made a messy spot of arousal on his floor.

  At this point you tried your best to keep yourself composed, mouth open and holding yourself steady as he fucked your mouth, holding your head in place before his movements become more erratic. You could feel him twitch on your mouth the last few times, the cockhead reaching the back of your throat, your eyes watering as your nails sank onto the skin of his thigh before his release filled your mouth and throat.

  Before he could pull it out you held his base, slurping as you got the last drop of his cum in your mouth, swallowing and opening your mouth, putting his tip again in your tongue. The smirk along with the groan that left him was enough to make you want to do it all over again, to have him fuck your mouth once more, but his hand was quickly on your chin pulling you up, before connecting your mouths, making both moan against your lips. 

  Your hands quickly found his half-hard member, swift movements as your tongues explored each other’s mouths. His hand kept firm on the back of your head, holding you close to his as he ravish on your mouth, while the other went to your thigh, raising your dress to the waistline before slapping it harshly, making you jolt and moan against his mouth. A smirk could be felt as he slapped your ass one more time, pulling your hair, parting your lips, before smacking it once more, a glint in his eyes as he watched your whole body tremble.

  He quickly moves you to the bed, pushing you down as his lips meet yours once more, your hands moving to his hair as one of his keeps holding your neck, the other quickly parting your legs as he pressed his knee to your clothed core, the hand holding your hips in place as you instinctively you started moving slowly as he restrain your movements from the grip on your hip making you whimper against his mouth.

  “Please, please Hwa, I need — argh!” You complain as you feel the pressure of his knee against your clit, his mouth leaving wet trails of kisses along your neck and collarbone. “Please fuck me, please Hwa, I need you to —”

  “I said I’d put you in your place, not take orders from you, I’m sure you know the difference, right?” He hovered over you as he finished saying that, his hand previously on your hips going up under your dress to pinch your nipple making you whine and throw your head back onto the mattress. “I need an answer, darling,” he said once more, his lips hovering against yours as he forced you to look at him, his other hands massaging your breast as he pressured your clit once more, making you move your hips searching for friction, only making him chuckle. “Be a good girl and answer my question and you’ll get to cum, although I do like to play with my food before eating it, makes it even more delicious to watch you come undone on my tongue.”

  “Fucking hell,” you breath as you saw the smirk and watched his eyes fall to your parted lips, as the friction with his knee helped a little, but only made your insides burn with the need to have him inside you. “Yes, I-I know the difference, now ple-please touch me, please, Hwa.”

  “Looks like you know how to beg, that’s cute,” he said before both his hands found your dress, pulling it over your head, exposing the majority of your body, the only covered part being the place you wanted him the most. “Time to grant your wish, darling.”

  His lips quickly started a trail of wet open kisses down your neck, one of his hands holding your waist, the other playing with your nipple, pitching it as the other was finally met with Seonghwa’s mouth as he sucked in and played with the nipple, both with his tongue when he wouldn’t let marks over your chest. The lust in his eyes only got darker as he saw the marks embellishing your skin. 

  “Hwa, please… It hurts,” you whimper as you move your hips quickly against his leg, making him chuckle as he starts to kiss down your stomach, kneeling before you, siren eyes locked on you. “I’ve been good, now please fuck me.”

  Although you did plead, your voice carried a hint of demand that made Seonghwa arched his brows and smirked as his hands spread your legs wider. You lifted your upper body, resting it on your elbows as you wanted to see the sight of Seonghwa’s head between your legs, as you have imagined and dreamed about it so many times before, only to groan when he kissed your inner thigh, neglecting the heat coming from your clothed folds. 

  “Patience comes for those who wait, darling, and I rush for no one,” his voice was laced with lust and a hint of a challenge, making you bite your lip, knowing if you pushed his rules, he might leave you high and dry. His smirk grew as he realized you caught up with his hint. “I knew you were a good girl, a brat even, but good to know you can be easily tamed,” his lips touched your damped panties right above your clit making you jolt and curse under your breath. “Now, lay down on the bed and let me have my fun with you, okay, darling?”

  Before you could do as he said, his lips found your clothes core making you throw your head back with a moan, feeling his hands moving and pulling your panties to the side, his lips finding your sensitive clit making you jolt as he chuckled at your reaction, tip of his tongue touching your clit as he ravish on the sight of you squirming on his bed. Your hands quickly found his hair pulling it to you, which he obliged for the time being.

   As his lips enveloped and sucked your clit, his fingers that were parting your legs found your core, coming up and down your entrance, making you jolt and clench around nothing as he would never put them in too much.

  “Fuck Hwa, please please please please,” you squirmed already feeling tears fill your eyes as you looked down at him. “Fucking hell,” you said once more as your eyes met, the siren lustful eyes that you only dreamed of having between your legs before feeling his tongue play with your clit as two fingers enter you, making you throw your head back and arch your back. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuuck!”

  You screamed as you felt the build up in your stomach, only for him to stop completely before you feel his hands tanking off you panties before hovering over you, kissing your lips once more as his fingers played with your slit before entering you and curling inside, his thumb pressing on your clit as you moaned against Seonghwa’s lips, cussing and begging at the same time, as all you wish was to cum.

  “My fingers or mouth, darling?”

  “Both.”

  “Greedy little darling, unfortunately you can only pick one,” you open your mouth to complain but only a moan escapes as he adds another finger making you squirm under him. “Choose now, or you won't have any.”

  “Mouth.”

  You say breathlessly as he lowers himself so his lips hover over yours. “Good girl.”

  His lips are soon connected to your clit once more as his fingers leave you making you whine at the loss and clench around nothing as he quickly starts to ravish on your cunt. His tongue enters you in places you never thought it would be possible as his nose flickers on your sensitive clit making you tug on his hair as moans, curses and Soenghwa’s name leave your mouth at each strip he licks and each time his tongue enters your core. 

  “Fuck Hwa, so good, fucking god—”

  “Cum for me darling, I want you to cum on my tongue, only then I’ll fill you up, so be a good girl and listen to what I say.”

  You could barely process what he said as the build up in your stomach became too much, as you tried to push Seonghwa away as the stimulation started to become too great but he didn’t pull away, smirking at how much you squirmed because of his mouth. As heat flushed through your body making you numb, Seonghwa took his type to lick you clean watching you jolt from how sensitive you were before hovering above you once more.

  “You ready for my cock, darling?” You just nodded as you watched him smirk, going for a condom that was in his drawer, quickly putting it on before positioning himself at your entrance. “I need to hear it.”

  “I want you to fuck me senseless, Park Seonghwa.”

  “My pleasure, my darling.”

  At that he thrusts fully into you, holding your hips in place, keeping steady as he watched you, wondering if it was okay for him to move. Once you started to breathe again and your hand met his forearm as the other went for your breast, he smiled and started to move. Steady at first, watching how your facial expressions would change, playing with your body as he wanted to see what would make you tic, what would bring the sweetest sound from your mouth, but most importantly, what would make you come back to his bed. 

  “Fuck Hwa, yes, please, just like — argh fuck, YES!” 

  You couldn’t care less if someone was listening, if you had to take the walk of shame tomorrow, if this was only a one night stand, how you’d face Seonghwa once more if that was the case, none of it matter, all it mattered was how well he was rearranging your organs as his fingers sank into the flesh of your hip and he’d pull you towards him. 

  “Is my greedy little darling enjoying my cock?”

  “Yes, yes, yes fucking yes.”

   Seonghwa smiled at your words as one of his hands left your hip to find your clit, making you scream the moment he started to put pressure there, feeling you clench around him, his eyes closing as he could only think about making you cum on his cock, think about hearing you moan like that once more for him. As he felt his own orgasm coming closer, his other hand went for your neck, squeezing it just enough to make you roll your eyes back as his thumb still moved slowly on your clit as his thrusts became erratic.

  “Cum for me darling, cum on my cock like the good slut you are, yes?”

  And that was enough to push you over the edge as you screamed, arching your back as you creamed around his cock, feeling his thrusts start to slow down before his last thrust kept steady inside you as you knew he had emptied himself. His hand on your clit went to the mattress as the one on your neck found your cheeks caressing it lightly before he locked your lips together. 

  “So that just happened.”

  He chuckled at your words, making you laugh as well, before he looked at you with the boba eyes you knew so well on certain occasions. 

  “I’m gonna pull out, okay?” You nodded whining at the loss of his cock as you watched him take the condom out and toss it on the trash as he got a cloth to clean you up, surprising you a little, bringing a chuckle to leave his mouth. “Are you okay?” He asked as he carefully cleaned you up, eyeing you with concerned eyes when you hissed a little and he quickly apologized.

  “It’s okay, Hwa, don’t worry about it,” you comment, trying to get up already looking for your clothes, only to have Seonghwa hold you by the arm as your legs failed you. “I’m fine, I’ll be okay in a bit, just —”

  “Lay down,” it wasn’t a request although it sounded like it coming from his mouth, by how careful he said it. “You are not leaving this room, we will sleep and then talk about it tomorrow, unless you are uncomfortable —”

  “It’s fine I— I thought you’d want me to leave since…”

  “I’m a little cold, yes, but not that cold. I could never make a girl leave my room right after something like this, especially if that girl is you.” Your breath hitched and Seonghwa smiled at you. “Now, let’s go lay down, do you want one of my shirts to sleep on, darling?”

  You nodded, smiling at him as you sat back on the bed, as Seonghwa smiled at you handing you a shirt and boxers, which you thanked as he pulled the covers after putting shorts himself and laying next to you in bed.

  “Thank you, Seonghwa.”

  “No need to thank me,” he kissed your temple pulling you closer to him on the bed, his hands playing with your hair as he noticed you drifting to dreamland, chuckling lightly. “Goodnight, my darling.”

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DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[jyeoulzhu]

she's MINE.

summary . y/n invites karina to a family dinner, and their younger cousin (who's lowkey in love with karina) gets super jealous every time y/n and karina act couple-y.

pairing . yu jimin x gender neutral reader

y/n should’ve known bringing karina to family dinner was a mistake.

the moment they walked in, their six-year-old cousin, minho, sprinted across the room, skidded to a stop in front of karina, and gasped so loud it echoed.

“OH MY GOD,” he whispered, clutching his chest like he was overcome with emotion. “YOU’RE… YOU’RE SO PRETTY.”

karina, ever the menace, crouched down to his level and smiled sweetly. “hi, minho. it’s nice to meet you.”

minho’s entire soul left his body.

his face turned tomato red, his knees buckled, and he let out the softest, most lovesick sigh y/n had ever heard.

then, he turned to them, scowling so hard it aged him fifty years. “you don’t deserve her.”

y/n blinked. “HUH???”

before they could process that insult, minho grabbed karina’s hand and held on for dear life. then, with all the confidence in the world, he said,

“you can go home now.”

karina bit her lip to keep from laughing, but y/n was outraged. they turned to their family, expecting SOMEONE to defend them, but everyone just looked like they were watching a drama unfold.

y/n’s own blood had betrayed them.

-

minho sat right between y/n and karina like a tiny, angry guard dog. every time y/n even tried to touch karina, minho blocked it like a security system.

at one point, y/n stretched their arm over karina’s chair, only for minho to physically remove it.

"personal space, bozo," he snapped.

y/n turned to their aunt. "can we return him? i feel like we can still get store credit."

"unfortunately, no," she sighed. "we lost the receipt."

minho smirked in victory.

karina? she was having the time of her life.

"minho, do you want more rice?" she asked sweetly, patting his head.

"only if you feed me," he replied, dead serious.

y/n nearly choked on air. "BRO, USE A SPOON—"

minho ignored them as karina, grinning, picked up a spoonful of rice and held it out for him. minho took the bite like he was a prince being doted on, then turned to y/n with the SMUGGEST EXPRESSION ON EARTH.

"yeah, that's right," he mumbled through his food. "cry about it."

y/n was about to throw hands with a LITERAL CHILD.

after dinner, y/n FINALLY managed to steal karina away to the living room. they had her all to themselves. peace. tranquility. romance.

…or at least, they thought so.

because the SECOND they leaned in to rest their head on karina’s shoulder, MINHO APPEARED FROM THE SHADOWS.

like ACTUALLY. like HE CAME OUT OF NOWHERE.

"DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT."

he wedged himself between them like a tiny, aggressive chaperone, then crossed his arms like he was about to kick y/n out of their OWN HOUSE.

“bro,” y/n hissed. “do you even know what personal space is?”

“do you know what boundaries are?” minho shot back.

y/n was about to LOSE IT. but before they could, karina turned to them, grinning like the little shit she was.

"are you jealous?" she teased.

y/n scoffed, arms crossed. “of a six-year-old? no way.”

karina’s smirk widened. she leaned in real close, her lips right by y/n’s ear.

"then you won’t mind if i give minho a kiss on the cheek, right?" she whispered.

y/n’s soul EXITED their body. minho overheard this and IMMEDIATELY sat up so straight his back CRACKED.

"PLEASE," minho begged.

y/n, panicking, GRABBED KARINA'S HAND AND STOOD UP IMMEDIATELY.

"ACTUALLY IT'S GETTING LATE. WE REALLY SHOULD BE GOING. BYE MINHO."

they YANKED karina out the door, SLAMMING IT behind them.

from inside, minho’s BLOODCURDLING SCREAM echoed through the entire house.

as soon as they were outside, karina burst into laughter. "oh my god, i can't believe you got jealous of a six-year-old."

y/n groaned, burying their face in their hands. "YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND. that little menace is gonna make my life a LIVING HELL for this."

karina giggled, lacing her fingers with y/n’s. “don’t worry,” she whispered. “i only have eyes for you.”

y/n sighed in relief, but then their phone buzzed.

enemy #1 “sleep with one eye open, bozo.”

y/n stared at the message, fear settling in. they could already hear minho’s evil little giggles in their head.

…yeah.

they were SO doomed.

[xomakara]

Back To Me

SUMMARY |  Mingyu or Hansol? You finally decide who you want to be with.

PAIRINGS |  Mingyu (SVT) x Reader

RATING |  Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+, Any Minors and Ageless Blogs will be blocked 

GENRE |  smut, just pure unadulterated smut, friends with benefits, angst

CONTENT/WARNINGS |  profanity, lovemaking, unprotective sex, fingering, breast fondling, creampies, dirty talk, kissing, sucking, biting, hair gripping/pulling, praising, hair gripping, oral sex (f.receiving), pet names

LENGTH |  7,662 words 

TAGLIST |  –

NETWORKS |  @k-vanity @ksmutsociety @keopihaus @cosyhomenet @winerys-collection

AUTHOR’S NOTE | Thank you @lovetaroandtaemin as usual for beta-reading these fics that I churn out. I really appreciate it, bestie 💚 Here is the last part of this fwb!Mingyu series. I hope you all like it! Likes, comments, and reblogs (mainly reblogs) are appreciated~

If you haven't read the other parts, you can find them here:  What Are We? (Mingyu x Reader) If We… (Vernon x Reader)

Seventeen Masterlist

Mingyu feels like shit.

Not literally though. Physically, he's perfectly healthy. It's emotionally, his mind feels like absolute shit. It's no surprise that his mental health is a tad bit fragile these days. This has got to be the most stressful time in his entire life so far.

He can't concentrate properly in class or do his school work at home properly without his eyes blurring and his hand cramping up from the constant movement of his wrist. The stupid test coming up next week that is due for 20 percent of the entire course grade is already freaking him out so much that it is the first thing to pop into his mind whenever he awakes. Not even the hot piece of ass beside him the past few nights.

She isn’t you and will never be you.

It has been two weeks and three days since Hansol has started dating you. Not that Mingyu was keeping count or anything. Absolutely not. His free hand that isn’t holding his phone squeezes his forehead in annoyance. For the past fifteen minutes Mingyu has been trying so hard to focus and study.

But everything fucking hurt. And every time he flips through the pages of his books, the words keep swimming in front of him. So now here he lay on his back, on top of his unmade bed with a head filled with nothing but you and you. And the fact that it's only Monday is adding to his aggravation.

When he sees the text he received from you, he swears his vision has become fogged by the words he's reading over and over.

'Yes.'

An ache pierces his heart like a dagger stabbing at his very chest. How could this happen to him? This isn't how he imagined things would happen. How has it gotten this far and this complicated? Sure he's asked you a million times to be his girlfriend. Sure, you always turn him down, but still, you keep finding yourself back in his bed almost every night of the week. Sure you'd refused and protested countless times, but did he force you to do any of these things?

Is this just an endless cycle?

He squeezes his eyes shut. A sigh. Then another.

Who is he kidding?

Of course he’s being delusional. How could he have just presumed that because the both of you continued sleeping together and occasionally saw each other throughout the day for food or just to hangout together—no matter who they were with—means that things would go his way. But Mingyu guessed it was his fault for never pursuing a real, emotional relationship with you. Maybe if he hadn't set those boundaries from the start of your no-strings relationship, then none of these things would be happening right now.

Sure it might've taken longer than it should for him to realize how he's actually developed feelings. Why can't you realize that he knows what the two of you have is real, and it’s strong? You two are perfect for each other.

Can't you see that?

All those times you and he have kissed, the times he’s touched you intimately, the amount of nights and mornings the both of you have fucked, the number of times the two of you cuddled afterwards, the numerous conversations the two of you have had duringall that time. How could you not see what Mingyu sees?

Has he ever expressed it properly? Or are you just choosing to not see what's directly in front of you? Is there someone else? Does Hansol take you in and give you more tender loving care than he can provide for you? Is he better to you than Mingyu ever could?

Is he not enough?

Maybe. Just maybe.

Perhaps Mingyu hasn't done enough.

Hasn't shown or proven himself to be a suitable partner and be worthy of being able to love you the way you ought to be loved.

And it pisses him off.

He’s fucking jealous. So fucking enraged.

Because all these years, it was only him. Your attention. Your affection. Your time. All for Mingyu alone. Only him. But now? Now things were getting out of his control. Things have changed. And it pisses him the fuck off.

Out of sight, out of mind, was what Mingyu told himself. But in this situation, where it concerns you, it’s different. Seeing you and him together hurts, yet the more he sees, the more the desire to rip Hansol's arms away from you, snatch you away and hide you from his gaze gets stronger.

He needs you. Badly.

Then maybe... he’ll see and stop denying the fact that he's absolutely in love with you.

He tried to see other women after he found out you were dating Hansol, hoping it would do him good. But there was no use. Even while on a date, he would think of you and wish you were the girl in front of him instead.

Mingyu doesn't know when, how or why exactly, but somewhere in the middle of your little 'friends with benefits' thing, he began having feelings for you, and he had no one but himself to blame.

Because while Mingyu knows that he was the one that set that clear boundary between the both of you, it had to be his heart, the one foolishly going ahead and falling for you. It’s only in his fantasies where Mingyu is able to say whatever and do whatever he'd want to you, as many times as he wants and whenever he'd like to. That isn’t what’s actually happening. Because, if it were his choice, no one else would be touching or holding your pretty hands, no one else would see that sleepy smile of yours, or hear you laugh the way he did. No one would be able to wake up next to you, or hold you at night and hear you talk and cry about how the things of your life were weighing too heavy. Only him.

"Dude, you okay?" his best friend's voice interrupts and brings his attention back to reality. Wonwoo sits there, a book open on his lap and a pencil tucked behind his ear.

Mingyu lowers his phone with a sigh, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling. "Honestly, I feel like shit, man. I just..."

"If you had only confessed to her before, things would be different," he gives Mingyu a serious look. Wonwoo sighs and leans back, tilting his chair with his foot and rolling backwards on the wheels, facing Mingyu from across the room. "Out of all the other girls you fucked with, Y/N is the longest one you've had yet. Most of the girls that you get involved with never last longer than two weeks, yet for two years she's been stuck by your side," he pauses with a nod, glancing upwards before returning back. "Either she's incredibly loyal to you and tolerates your bullshit, or the two of you really have something special," his deep eyes scrutinize, studying and contemplating.

"I don't know man, but lately, it just hasn't been the same," Mingyu props his arm on his forehead, resting on the pillows. "She keeps ignoring me and hanging out with him," he pouts. "It feels like I did something wrong when I didn't do shit."

Wonwoo sighs, setting his book and notebook down on his desk before standing and walks towards the bathroom. "Honestly I feel like it's both of your faults," his low voice mumbles, staring at his reflection in the mirror and fixing his hair. He glanced towards Mingyu from the cracked door. "We're heading out for dinner tonight."

"Who's coming?" Mingyu asked.

"Everyone."

"Y/N and Hansol too?" Wonwoo nods, and Mingyu lets out a groan.

"Don't be such a child. How are you going to even handle seeing your girlfriend around when we all share the same mutual friends?" Wonwoo takes off his shirt, walking into the closet and fishing out a clean shirt from the hanger.

"She's not my girlfriend," the tall man mutters. "Also, not so great that you'll all be laughing and having a good time and all while I'm moping on the side."

"Not really our fault dude. Maybe next time, try being honest and not fucking up." Wonwoo takes the comb in his hand, styles his hair and looks at himself once more. He takes off the reading glasses on his face, adjusts his round-framed eyeglasses, then grabs a denim jacket. "Hurry up and get ready."

"How the fuck are you supposed to help if you don't even understand," Mingyu stands and mutters the curse to himself. Wonwoo is already walking out the room and closing the door.

"Mingyu hurry your big ass up, or we'll be leaving without you," Seungcheol yells through the door and knocks a few times before walking away. 

"Alright I'm coming," Mingyu calls out, moving quickly and picking the first outfit his hands caught. He quickly gets dressed, the stress of the finals wearing on him and adding to his anxiety, not knowing what he might run into next.

You. With your boyfriend.

Just fucking great.

Dinner that night was weird.

For you. Not everyone else.

When your mutual friends decide to get together at a restaurant for dinner and fun. Hansol, who you had been hooking up with for awhile now, clings to your arm. With every laugh or chuckle, he hugs you tight to him. Mingyu sits next to you, silent and glum. You've known him long enough to know his signs. Something is eating at him.

Your heart aches at seeing how crestfallen he seems. And despite being here with Hansol, the fake boyfriend of yours, you keep thinking back and forth between the two men.

Dinner is awkward, to say the least, sitting between Hansol and Mingyu, whose own plate lay abandoned as he sips his alcohol and sighs heavily to himself. He would talk to the others, but not to you, and it hurt more than it should've. Hansol seems a little concerned too, not that Mingyu is outwardly acting odd or hostile towards him or anything. He even goes so far as to squeeze Hansol's shoulders and slap his shoulder, laughing.

When it comes to talking to you or making contact, Mingyu is absolutely avoiding you. He does everything in his power, even ignoring you at times. Mingyu's pained expression is nearly impossible to deal with. His sad and distressed gaze is nearly ripping your insides to shreds, so much you wanted to reach and rub the frown and lines in his face away.

“Mingyu,” you place a hand on his thigh, “you okay?”

"Yeah," his voice comes out quieter and subdued. Mingyu turns his head away quickly, only to find Hansol's worried gaze searching him, noticing the subtle behavior.

"Something wrong man?" he frowns a little, brows knit together in question.

"Don't worry about me. The real question is are you guys doing okay?" Mingyu coughs slightly, and you both feel the tension of the atmosphere building. Mingyu seems off today.

"What makes you think we're not alright?" Hansol smiles lightly and glances over at you with an innocent stare, pressing a chaste kiss upon your lips, and you smile softly.

You don’t have much time to think before Hansol's soft mouth captures yours, the tenderness of the kiss distracting you momentarily. However, it does the exact opposite for Mingyu, whose mood becomes foul. You can tell Mingyu is looking on with his hands clenched. "Just asking, is all," he downs the drink in his cup, sighing as his eyes land on the both of you, stealing a glance that doesn’t go unnoticed. But you don't have the time to register the slight hurt, jealousy and rage that flashes in his orbs. Or how his smile disappears almost instantaneously at seeing Hansol kissing you.

"Can I ask what's eating you then?" Hansol raises a brow, concern filling his stare.

"I just had a stressful week, that's all," his eyes harden, masking the hurt. A pause and a momentary stillness comes.

"Nothing too bad, right?" Hansol shifts closer, slapping his back hard.

"Just exams," Mingyu responds, shrugging him off. "Don't worry too much."

The night wears on, and finally, Mingyu leaves before the rest of you do. The other friends depart before them, leaving you and Hansol to stand and finish your drinks.

"Well that was really something else," he chuckles dryly and breathes deeply, swallowing the cold beverage down, and you sit silently on his right side, leaning your arm against the surface of the table, head propped on the palm of your hand. "Feel free to give me a heads up if I should back down and let him win."

You sigh softly and turn to meet Hansol's eyes, deep and warm pools. But despite his attractive face and the fact that he’s a great guy, he’s no Kim Mingyu. "I just...don't know." You admit, pursing your lips. Hansol has been nothing short of great and a generous lover and guy.

But he isn't Kim fucking Mingyu, you reasoned with yourself.

"It's a complicated situation, I won't rush you," he nods and slips on his jacket. Hansol offers a hand to you with an endearing and honest smile, one that brings butterflies to your stomach. "Why don't you see him tonight? Then decide? I think it's time."

"Really?" you’re surprised, taking his offered hand. You bite your lip and squeeze his hand once.

"Go," he lets out a sigh and kisses the back of your hand, smiling. "Before he's gone, and there is no chance left."

It doesn’t take long for Mingyu to return home, unlocking and swinging his door open. He drops his keys in the basket and drags a hand along the wall as he shuts the door, then drops his leather jacket down on the sofa.

He’s exhausted; too drained mentally, physically and emotionally for this shit.

He lets out a frustrated growl, one so powerful it startles even himself when it comes out.

There are more reasons for Mingyu to not want to be around the others anymore, and it’s frustrating, knowing he’ll have to do a hell lot of pretending that he’s fine. In front of them. When it is in fact far from that. He takes out his phone, the screen bright and a picture of the both of you was the wallpaper, smiling so cutely, so happily that the frustration and irritation within Mingyu only builds higher and higher.

Hansol is treating you well, isn't he? He must be, judging the way you stare up at him with loving orbs and that fucking grin. How could he ever do better and love you more than that fucker is?

It pisses him off to no end.

"Mingyu," a voice speaks.

He jerks his gaze up and notices you standing by the door..

He sighs, sitting down on the couch and groaning in his hand. "Y/N what are you doing here? How'd you get in?" He mumbles.

"I still have the spare, remember?" your voice comes  softly and hesitantly. Mingyu inhales deeply, a shiver racking throughout his frame.

"Shouldn't you be with Hansol?" his eyes meet yours, cold. "I thought you guys are in love and stuff," the tone has bite, and he refuses to break contact. His fist clenches and unclenches, eyes narrowing, staring.

"Mingyu, please," you whisper brokenly. "Don't."

"Why not Y/N? Am I just some sort of fool to play around with? Is that all you saw me as, as some stupid person that wouldn't mind being made a fool of?" Mingyu's head is filled with all sorts of images, thoughts and feelings.

"That’s not—"

"Then what?" he interrupts, jaw ticking in anger. "What is it exactly you saw in me? For two whole years, is this all we were worth? Sexual companions and nothing more?" Mingyu snaps, brows pinched and his jawline taut. "Or maybe for the longest time, I was a joke to you. Or a convenient person to spend your lonely nights with," he doesn’t intend for his words to cut so deep, but they do, and when you cringe visibly and flinch, his chest tightens in regret and guilt.

"You think I don't know how badly I messed up, Mingyu? You don't think I regret not giving a proper answer when you kept asking me to be your girlfriend?" tears cloud your vision. "You don't think I keep feeling the pangs of pain and confusion, with so many what-if's and maybe's whenever I am near you?" you approach slowly, standing in front of Mingyu. His expression remains hardened, refusing to express any emotion and let himself feel weak. "I'm scared, Mingyu," your voice lowers, whispering and afraid to meet his gaze, as the truth will probably get spilled at a moment's notice.

"Don't do that," his tone softens a fraction. "Please, don't pull that bullshit," he looks away.

"Mingyu, I'm scared that if we take things further, and we inevitably drift apart, then what do I have left?" the ache in your heart twists and pierces sharply. "What will I do if I get addicted to you, and everything that has happened up to this point falls away?" the air shifts, as silence weighs between. Tears fill the rims of your eyes, and you finally look up, locking your gaze on Mingyu's brown irises. "What will I do if you grow bored of me like all the others you've been with before?" your voice cracks slightly, swallowing the lump in your throat.

His features relax, hardened gaze becoming vulnerable. He stands, reaching out. You watch as his large hand reaches and cups your cheek gently, carefully. He steps closer, holding your face delicately and pulling you in towards him, soft gaze fixated on your orbs, filled with nothing but sincerity. The back of his fingers caress you, trailing along your jawline.

"Y/N," your name falls off his lips so effortlessly, a hush from his lips. You press forward, wrapping your arms around Mingyu's middle. And for the first time in a long time, the both of you let things go naturally, simply standing, embracing each other. He holds you tighter, burrowing his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling the faint scent of the shampoo he knows you use every morning, memorizing it in case you become nothing but a memory. Mingyu's larger frame dwarfs yours, shielding you, embracing you tightly against his muscular torso.

"Mingyu, I'm sorry, I really am," the whisper is quiet, and yet it cracks in the silence between, almost as if it has never existed. "I should've talked to you, communicated and been truthful. I was just so scared and I felt like, ‘this might end’." The admission is tender.

His lips are set on your forehead, lingering for a few seconds, and then Mingyu pulls away, taking hold of your face in his large, steady palms. The dark depths of his brown eyes hold your gaze, reflecting the slight hint of emotion behind it. Your fingers come and grasp hold of his wrists. You almost allow yourself to melt when Mingyu brushes your hair, fixing the strand out of your face and running a finger along the skin below your ear. The tips of his fingers stay there for the next seconds.

"Y/N, I need an honest answer from you, and a direct one," a moment passes, and Mingyu's words still hang in the air. You pull away and glance back with teary eyes. "Do you really and honestly have feelings for me?" his orbs flicker downward, lips pressed in a thin line. He won't speak until you do.

"Yes," it takes you less than a second to utter the one word, yet it feels like an eternity has passed. "Please..." the word leaves your lips. "I need you."

"What about Hansol?" his jaw clenches briefly.

"No, Mingyu," your teeth nibble your bottom lip. "Right now, it's just you and me. Just us," you begin, and he presses you back, pushing you slowly into the wall. Mingyu leans his head back and takes a moment to collect his thoughts before swooping down to claim your soft lips. 

Your arms move swiftly, holding onto his shoulders, clawing at the fabric of his shirt, the contact sending electricity through him. He continues the desperate action, deepening and molding, matching your actions. He makes no attempt to stop or pull away. And despite the strength and intensity behind the kiss, his tenderness isstill there, coming through in every sense of the word.

For so many nights, you've dreamed of and reminisced upon these past experiences of Mingyu kissing you, just like he is. Inhaling the smell and fragrance which was utterly his own. Of the sweet taste, of the taste that never seems to diminish nor fade away despite how long it's been.

Like it's his very first kiss, and he's desperate to never lose such an unforgettable taste. It’s the urge to say, “Fuck everything else, who cares.” You had never wanted to get so lost in him. The heat of his hands burns on your skin, even after the touch is gone. He moves, unable to stay still while kissing you. A small groan from the back of your throat elicits from the pressure against the wall, and he hoists you up, forcing your legs around his waist. He's immediately hard for you.

His arousal thickens, his body stiff. Mingyu pants, eyes closing, groaning softly as you roll your hips. His hand lowers and squeezes the flesh of your ass, grinding and thrusting his lower half with desperate movement, making sure to match your rhythm.

When it's time, you want to savor it. To commit everything into memory, every curve, slope and dip of his muscular figure.

"Say my name," he purrs into your ear. "I want to hear it."

"Mingyu," it falls from you softly, an echo in his ears and an unadulterated moan of a prayer.

He carries you to the couch and sits, bringing your bodies as close as humanly possible. He runs his lips up your neck, making his way back to the lips he loves so desperately, tongues fighting for dominance. "Again, baby girl. Please," he whispers against your lips. His hot breath mingles with yours as his fingers trace every crevice of your figure, his lips hungry and demanding.

Mingyu wants to taste you in ways you could only ever imagine. In ways you want, no, need so badly.

"Again," he growls, eyes trained on you, hunger clear in his eyes as he stares into you. "Say it."

"Mingyu," you’re practically pleading, staring deep into his eyes. "Mingyu," you whisper into the kiss and feel the vibrations in his throat. He smiles against your mouth and pushes back your hair, continuing to move in the most intimate position, to match his every rock against you.

"It sounds so good when you call my name like that." The growl is deep from his throat, and his words slur from intoxication, from being drunk off the very essence of you and only you. "Did you and Hansol fuck a lot like we did?" The thought and mention of someone else brings his desire down temporarily, but the satisfaction to be one with you is far stronger.

"Why? What are you going to do if we did?" The daring tone in your voice is unexpected.

“Gonna fuck you so good so that you forget any name but mine, and any guy but me. So fucking good you can only scream my name and remember that you were made for me," he groans and pants, hips bucking. "So good that you won't even think of another cock but mine." His hands draw your shirt above your head, and his lips leave yours, moving down to your throat. He latches onto the sensitive spots and sucks, tongue dipping into the crevices, tasting and savoring every part of your body he has the pleasure of reaching. Mingyu sucks, tongue swirling patterns, and he presses into the bite, his hips raised. "And so good that you'll be satisfied by nobody but me and only me."

He rips his own shirt off before proceeding, mouthing down and nipping at the valley in-between your breasts, sucking a small hickey at the spot.

“What if Wonwoo and Seungcheol come back early? What happens if they see what's going on between us, Mingyu?" You gasp.

"Let them watch. What I do with you doesn't concern them, or anybody for that matter," he growls, looking into your eyes. "We've fucked at all those parties, in dark alleys and dark bedrooms when everyone's around. What's one more show for them to see?"

His audacity is almost unbelievable. Mingyu never did mind putting on a show in the most extreme and risky manner. It was a clear sign of his adrenaline and recklessness. Or he’s gone so crazy for you that nobody matters at this point in time.

"Can’t we fuck in a bed for once? Please? I can't count on all of my fingers how many times you’ve fucked me against walls, and desks and tables," you argue, lightly shoving Mingyu back. He laughs and nods, following suit and backing away. He lifts you effortlessly, allowing you to wrap your arms around his neck and wrap your legs securely around his waist. You nuzzle the spot under his jaw, whispering "Good boy."

He groans softly in response.

The moment his bedroom door opens, Mingyu practically throws you on the mattress and hovers. He's quick to pull off the rest of your clothes and toss them elsewhere, not worrying where they may end up.

You tug on his belt and throw it to the ground. Mingyu kicks off his pants and boxers next, quickly. Once he's stripped and bare for you, he parts your legs further and moves between them, caging your smaller frame in as he reaches up to hold the headboard with his fist. You run your hands up his toned torso, all the way up, and your fingers graze and tickle the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Tell me what you want, and it's yours," his gaze holds an unfamiliar edge. Something foreign and different, dark and dangerous. It awakens a part of you that makes your muscles tighten.

"Anything?"

"Anything," he answers quickly.

Your fingers card through the silky black strands on Mingyu's scalp. "Want you to eat me out, Gyu. Wanna fuck myself on your face."

With a smirk and a roll of his eyes, he starts his way south on your body. He pecks down your chest, between the valley of your breasts and lower. Leaving light marks and red patches, the slight pain brings out the need and want within.

"Missed me, baby?" a smug grin stretches as his nose bumps your clit, leaning down to leave feathery kisses along the inside of your inner thigh. "How badly did you miss this?"

"So fucking much," you grit, hands curling into his hair.

"Tell me about it," Mingyu kisses the sensitive spots and teases, adding in light nips every now and then. The vibrations from his throat shoot all the way up to his tongue, and you moan at the contact. "Felt so empty and incomplete when you couldn't have me?" The tease is clearly evident as his large hands spread your thighs, a pleased and smug hum leaving his mouth as he pushes his tongue flat.

"Fuck," you grip tighter, tugging on the dark strands and throwing your head back into the pillow. Your feet dig into his back and shoulders for leverage, attempting to gain back control, but Mingyu won’t budge and seems perfectly content staying where he is and letting his mouth and tongue do the work. Mingyu continues to press against your folds and lap along them slowly, eyes trained on your expression, on your lips parted in ecstasy and the hazed look of bliss that coats your orbs.

"Look at that," Mingyu says, flicking your clit with his finger before replacing his fingers with his tongue, "That's my good girl."

He continues, tongue tracing all the right places, stimulating each part, pressing and circling your bundle of nerves over and over. You whimper, holding tighter onto the mattress, digging in your nails.

"Who," Mingyu pauses, smirking wickedly up at you. "Who is making you feel this way?"

"You, only you," the cry leaves you before you know it.

"My name, baby. Say my name," he licks across once, causing you to shake, before a shudder shoots down your spine.

"Oh fuck, please," a desperate sob comes out, and a broken moan follows. 

"My name, Y/N," He punctuates every syllable with a torturously slow drag of his tongue. He knows just how to break you. How to leave you at his mercy, so that you’ll be nothing but his. Only his.

"Mingyu," you whine, and he groans in response, a satisfied sound.

"Good job, baby girl," a deep whisper into your thigh. His hands pin your legs apart, preventing them from trapping his head or slowing him down. Mingyu closes his mouth around you and sucks, tongue darting to lick inside. You arch your back off of the sheets, unable to speak coherently or think straight. "Keep talking," Mingyu breathes. "Tell me how fucking great my mouth feels."

"Holy shit, oh shit," the string of curses falls from your lips.

"Give me more; don't hold out. I want to hear all of it. Give it all to me," the fire of his words is fuelled when he returns to circle the flat of his tongue against your clit, and you let go, free falling into the abyss.

Your orgasm rocks through you, and you whine at the overwhelming sensation, arching your spine and gripping his hair. Mingyu moans, continuing his movements.

He holds himself up on both of his elbows, tucking his head and grinning, satisfied with his actions. Your breathing remains heavy as he pulls himself up, closer. He braces himself on his forearms, hovering, looking down at you, a small smile and contentment settling on his features.

Mingyu's right hand moves to cup the side of your neck, his thumb stroking across your collarbone. You turned, opening your eyes slowly to gaze up at his handsome face. The soft lighting washes over his bare shoulders, accentuating the outline, the dips and crevices of his body. "Hey," he leans down, nose bumping gently.

"Hey yourself," the giggle bubbles out, and you run a hand across the back of Mingyu's neck and down his back. "So..." you hum, shuffling in your spot to meet his gaze head-on.

"So..." Mingyu imitates playfully, a twinkle and glint reflecting the faintness of the light in his orbs.

You laugh, hooking a leg over his waist. His nose comes down and trails across your neck and shoulder, his warm lips grazing skin. "Are you going to keep staring? Or..." you lift a brow, smirk evident.

"Someone's eager," Mingyu's fingers dig into the sheets, his length brushing your skin. The familiar throb of desire begins to grow as his length drags.

"And someone's taking their precious sweet time," you pout.

"Let me savor this," he whispers into the column of your throat. "I missed you and your body, everything about you." He kisses, tongue sliding against flesh.

"You know how to make a woman swoon, don't you?" you hum, letting out a soft gasp when the pad of his thumb begins circling your entrance, lightly stroking.

"I only do that when the woman's you, so I'll take it as a compliment." His fingers sink into you with no warning, filling you entirely and curling immediately in all the ways you need and want.

"Shit," you let out a moan.

Mingyu kisses along your neck as his fingers thrust, withdrawing them slowly. His head is bent forward so his lips can find the pulse-point along your throat, and his body is flush against yours as he resumes kissing and sucking and nibbling there, allowing the warmth of your body, the sound of your whimpers to guide him.

"Does that feel good, baby girl?" His thumb curls upwards with his last few thrusts. He nibbles and kisses around the column of your throat before nips just under your chin. His breath washes over your neck, down your neckline, and across your jaw before returning to your earlobe. Your hands scrape lightly at the muscles of his back as he bites the skin behind your ear.

"Ah fuck. Need you, Mingyu," Your words fall out so effortlessly, not holding a care in the world.

He withdraws his fingers and settles his cock against your folds, coating it thoroughly. Slowly, Mingyu rocks his hips and allows his length to slip into you. Once he is fully buried into you, he pauses. You run your hands down his chest and to his shoulders before grasping the taut flesh of his bicep and drawing him down and on top of you. His lips capture yours again, and he shifts his weight onto his arms again. He rolls his hips against you and slides slowly and firmly in and out of you.

God, he fills you so well. Nothing compares. No man compares to the sensations and sparks, not in the same way, nor to the extreme lengths, which he causes in you. Mingyu's nose trails along the skin of your neck, and when his lips press a tender kiss to your throat, you know you wouldn't be able to survive if you were ever without his touches and affection once again.

"Mingyu," a near silent whisper, so light that the smallest breath would send it away, "I... I love you."

His thrusts slow.

His eyes shoot up at the same instant.

Mingyu stares, gazing at you intently. Your hand cups the back of his neck, and you use the other one to brush back his fringe. Mingyu leans his head into your touch, staring, gazing. He breathes slowly, heavily, "Say it again."

He wants to hear it. His large, warm hand slides up and down your cheek, just watching.

"I love you," you turn your lips into his palm, eyes closing. "I love you, Mingyu." You whisper against his palm, the heat and warmth radiating off his skin. "So, so much."

There’s a shift. Something in the air changes when the words fall from your lips and lands onto his.

Mingyu groans, his hand finding yours. He entwines his fingers with yours and pins the limb by the side of your head. "Shit, shit baby, I love you too."

You pull his head forward and kiss him, and as his body is pressed against your naked flesh, all you know is Mingyu's heart pounding hard against you as he buries his face into your neck.

His eyes screw shut tight before repositioning and sitting upright, and you follow, straddling and moving to wrap your arms and legs around him as he grabs onto you, clinging tightly, skin against skin, bare, vulnerable and open. Your breasts press against his torso, and his strong arms wrap around your upper back as he nestles his face into the crook of your neck.

His scent overwhelms and surrounds you, leaving you to only focus on Mingyu. And as he begins rolling his hips in a smooth and gentle rhythm, you focus solely on him, letting your senses be completely captivated by Kim Mingyu and his warmth and being.

Everything feels different.

"I love you," he punctuates. Mingyu keeps repeating the sentence, and as you kiss him, his lips are all over the place, and you’re gasping out the very same words, arching your neck and revealing his name. "I love you. I love you so much, Y/N," his thrusts pick up tempo. The warmth of him surrounds you and wraps and tightens around you.

The angle intensifies the sensation. It increases everything, and his cock hits the spot deep in you. "Fuck," you whisper. "Please, Mingyu, I-"

You're not quite sure exactly what it is you're asking him, but you know, instinctively, you're not the only one who needs more, wants more. He clutches harder, brings you impossibly closer. Your fingers dig into his back. Your head rests on his chest, ear pressed above his heart, hearing its thump against your ears. The noises you make are unadulterated now as Mingyu rocks, grinds and presses into your core, brushing sensitive nerve bundles and sending bursts of pleasure into your nerves.

"I'm yours," Mingyu mutters, gripping you tighter, "and only yours."

He spills deep inside you as he has done numerous times before, but the experience feels different this time, a step taken far greater than the usual sex the two of you engage in. The fact of the matter that the two of you had admitted to the feelings you've been carrying out over these past two years means a lot, everything, to the both of you. You can feel it in the depths of your hearts as he fills and spends himself inside you.

"Stay," Mingyu whispers, placing a delicate, soft and careful peck along the curve of your jaw. His hands slide along your back, the act sensual.The way his fingers dance along your spine is feather-light.

"Do you really think I'd want to go anywhere?" your lips connect with the place just beside his ear. He shifts, shuffling the two of you slowly so that you're on your backs once more, and his large form is still towering over yours and above you.

"Still," Mingyu burrows, face nuzzling and brushing. "I like that you're here. I want you to always be here." His eyes remain half-lidded and heavy when he peeks down and meets your gaze. He takes a long and hard look at you before speaking once more, "Please," a pleading and desperate beg. "Stay, and please stay for good."

"What? You want me to live here?" You raise a brow.

"Would be the easiest solution," Mingyu says, burying his face once more in the crook of your neck. He takes a deep inhale, nostrils expanding. The fingers continue drawing along your skin, never stopping.

"What about Wonwoo and Seungcheol? Won't they say something?" You let out a small laugh, shifting and wiggling to get comfortable under his weight.

"Let me take care of that," he doesn't budge, only stays put. "What about Hansol? Should I be concerned about him? Or others?"

"There's nobody," you brush your hand through his dark locks and chuckle softly, "Never was. We never really dated. It was fake, just hookups. Promise," you grip and hold him as close as possible, never wanting to let him go.

"Sooooo... this is real?" he asks carefully and curiously, almost unsure.

"What do you think?" a laugh, snort, and scoff combined.

"Hmmm, sounds fake." You pinch the muscle, and Mingyu recoils in surprise and shoots you a look before grinning.

"Sounds super real," You snort and shove at his chest, looking into his orbs, and smile.

"Yeah?" the sparkle of his eyes widens, shining.

"Yes, you handsome himbo," your grin matches his.

"Fuck off," his grin only widens more, and the widening spreads to the apples of his cheeks.

"Nah," you sigh, draw the hand across the expanse of the skin, and reach up to cup and caress the side of his face. "I'm sticking around for a long time."

"So you're saying that you finally want to be my girlfriend?" The question is smug, and his words drip with all forms of confidence.

"Only after two years and after a lot of pestering and whining," you mutter the answer.

Mingyu doesn't stop the stupid, lovesick grin plastered on his face from widening any more as he peppers kisses up and along your jaw, pecks scattered all over. His broad, strong arms circle your waist and pull you closer, hold tighter and hug. It's so much. Far too much, and you melt into the embrace, reciprocating and winding your arms around his neck. "About time."

"Shut up."

Mingyu hugs you closer and sighs in contentment and utter joy. It feels as if the weight on his shoulders is lifted, and you wonder why it took so long for the both of you to end up in this moment, being able to freely enjoy and love one another as you truly wish, feeling free for once after hiding it for the past two years.

Hansol sits at the cafe table, spinning his coffee cup around with a bored and unamused expression and gaze. The buzz and bustle is not entertaining in the slightest, but the vibe, people-watching and atmosphere of a cafe is something Hansol is fond of.

You arrive at the location at 1pm on the dot and spot him almost immediately, walking over, shooting a nervous and guilty smile as the seat across him becomes occupied by your frame.

"Hansol," the greeting is quiet and timid.

"You know you don't have to feel bad for choosing Mingyu instead of me. That guy was right for you all along." He sips his hot beverage. "We were never going to work, not when your feelings for Mingyu were, and still are, stronger."

You chew at your bottom lip nervously and stare. "But... I..." your voice dies off in the middle of the sentence, struggling with the right words to speak.

"There's nothing to worry about," Hansol shakes his head with a smile, laughing slightly. "You two belong together, and it was always obvious from day one."

"But we..."

"I'm not saying that I'm giving you up," he grins. "If he ever breaks your heart, you can come running back to me." Hansol winks and raises a suggestive brow.

You roll your eyes, a smile on your lips. "Thanks. Glad I can count on you as a back-up plan."

"If he ever hurts you or anything, he has me and the boys to worry about," he shoots a grin once more.

"Yeah, sure," You laugh and shake your head. "Thanks Hansol," the smile and your gaze soften. "For understanding and everything else."

"Well," he pauses and sighs softly. "We had a great time together, didn't we?" He grins once more, and you laugh along with him.

"One helluva' good ride," you agree.

"Hey, what can I say, I'm the best," he winks and waggles his brows.

You giggle, amused. "Shut up, you big dork."

Hansol laughs. "And I'm guessing now that you've finally pulled the bandage off and are officially dating the idiot, I'm free to get back to actually doing what I want?"

You nod with a laugh. "Yeah. Yes, totally. Go on a rampage. I won't judge. Besides, there's a lot of fish in the sea."

Hansol lets out a laugh, breathless and leaning back in his chair. "That is the damn truth."

"Woah," an all too familiar voice calls your attention, and your head snaps up to see Mingyu approaching the two of you. A huff and breath later, he plops down onto the free chair. "If it isn't two of the greatest pains in my ass."

Hansol smirks. "Hey Mingyu," he greets with a laugh.

Mingyu pulls you onto his lap, his nose nuzzling the crook of your neck and sighing contentedly. You roll your eyes, lips pulled into a smile. Hansol raises a brow in question, lifting the coffee mug to his lips and hiding an amused grin.

"Yo, I’m still here," Hansol laughs.

"Go away," the response leaves Mingyu's lips as he pouts, nipping at the exposed skin along the column of your throat.

Hansol laughs once again and smiles. "Nah, this is a free public area," he grins teasingly, pointing towards the rest of the establishment.

"Who the hell cares," Mingyu mumbles against your skin.

"Stop it," you giggle, poking at his bicep.

"Shuddup, you guys are gross," Minghao drops down into a  seat at the table, glaring at the two of you and sipping on his iced drink.

Mingyu sits upright and holds you firmly, arm secure around your middle.

"Knew he'd catch up and join," Hansol hums, sitting up and kicking his feet. He adjusts in his chair and gestures toward the empty fourth one.

"It's been awhile since we've hung out," Soonyoung mutters as he takes a seat.

"Ah, we can't exactly hang with them much anymore since they're attached at the damn hip,," Hansol snorts, casting a sideways glance.

"What’s wrong with me being with my boyfriend?” you purse your lips and make an attempt to keep the amused grin off your face.

Mingyu pulls you against his chest even tighter and chuckles as Minghao gives him a look, with Soonyoung snorting next to him.

"Disgusting," Minghao rolls his eyes.

"Glad you both sorted your shit out, though," Soonyoung says.

"You're not even a little disgusted by them being this clingy?" Hansol gestures dramatically toward Mingyu, who's pulling you deeper into his embrace. You wrap your arms around his neck, face buried, breathing in and enjoying his scent.

"Meh," Minghao shrugs noncommittally as he waves a dismissive hand. "Been around them way too fucking often," his expression shows minor discomfort and revulsion as Mingyu runs his nose and mouth across your neck.

“Okay lovebirds, go home and do all that shit in the comfort and privacy of the apartment," Hansol barks, amused.

"Wait until they have the wedding and honeymoon," Soonyoung bites down on a shit-eating smirk.

"Cute," Hansol coos sarcastically, kicking lightly at Mingyu's shin as the older man stops his movement for a split second, giving him a look, before returning to his activity of cuddling and loving and embracing.

"Love you," the sound is muffled.

"Love you too," you answer.

And you really do mean it. Every word of it.