#[ left open for us to make them cross paths again! ]

[kwoniele]

don't let them hear — choi subong

synopsis: lights off meant something a little different between you and the famous choi subong, also known as thanos.

genre: smut and fluff bc theyre js exes who want eo bad LOL. green flag choi subong... say WHAT 💜

warnings: afab reader, tease, fingering, nothing else honestly

author's note: this is the first time i have ever written on this account + since my social media detox so pls bear w me if this isnt exactly up to your standards ha ha ha... ily anyway not proofread! i wrote this when it was 3am leave me be.

"lights will be turned off in ten seconds."

in a moment, the lights will dim and the only thing shedding light in the room would be the giant pig dangling from the ceiling and choi subong's pale skin that's attached to yours. ever since he told you he would be joining you in bed tonight, you couldn't deny the fact you were thrilled. your drug-addict ex boyfriend shouldn't have excited you this much. let alone the fact you were waiting for him. 

"five, four, three, two, one." now, it was fully dark. 

you sighed in disappointment. you turned away from the side subong was and decided to sleep on your own. you knew you shouldn't have trusted him at all, yet you were gullible enough to believe he'd keep his promise. and he didn't. cause if he did, he would be beside you with his arms wrapped around your waist pulling you closer to him so that you could warm one another up.

"y/n?," your eyes abruptly opened, "are you still awake?" he actually did it. he actually kept his promise.

he actually came.

you decided to play the stubborn game and not answer. but you knew that he was aware you were definitely up. "don't want me here? okay señorita. i'll leave." his footsteps began to get quieter as he 'left'. you felt guilty and decided to let him explain himself. after all, it hasn't been long since that robot woman announced it was time for bed.

"fuck you." you turned toward him, expecting him to be halfway gone already. yet you met a choi subong sitting down with his arms trapping his knees while replicating footsteps that were leaving. "wow. double fuck you.'

"please, i know you want me here. so move over." he stood up and laid down beside you as his head automatically dug itself into your chest. "i don't give a fuck if you're going to go on some lecture about how i should have been here sooner, so don't waste your time." he pecked your collarbone before adjusting his position. "i'm here with you and that's what matters. okay?"

speechless is an understatement. you couldn't even be mad. you couldn't feel the slightest anger in you because he's right there. you could see his purple hair laying on your neck.

wait. something's wrong. something's missing.

"wait. choi subong. where's the necklace?" you used two fingers to tilt his head up so you could see his eyes. they're still as pretty as ever. fuck him for having such charming eyes. 

"gone. i threw it away when i saw you rave about how you were so much happier when you quit." he stared at you. waiting for you to say something. "what? do you want me to dig my hands into the toilet to retrieve it?"

"did you seriously… get rid of it? for me?" you sat up. tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before holding his hands. you noticed the tattoo he dedicated to you. the little heart with a sun next to it because he said that you were his ray of sunshine.

"of course i did. i meant it when i told you i'd fix myself as long as we crossed paths again, you know. i don't just make promises for the sake of—" shutting him up with your lips was probably your favourite thing to do. you missed this. you missed him. you missed feeling his lips perfectly match yours everytime you leaned in to him. 

"then i meant it when i told you i'd let you fuck me whenever, wherever. hopefully you take that damn opportunity now." he analysed your face before realising you were serious. he didn't even need to say anything. he just held your face by your jaw, kissing you rougher than earlier while gently laying you down on your bed.

he took off your pants and placed it just beside the bed, sliding your panties right after it. "fuck. how long have you been this wet, hm?" his middle finger glided itself from your cunt to your clit, using your slick as lubricant to teasingly insert his finger in your hole. "was it when i told you i quit? or when you kissed me? or better yet, since you saw me?"

"fuck, subong–" his free hand covered your mouth, preventing you from letting a noise out. 

"can you be quiet for me, baby? wouldn't want to let these jackasses know i'm fucking the prettiest girl here, would you?" you shook your head, agreeing that you should be dead silent. 

you didn't even notice that he snuck a second finger, fucking you with his fingers repeatedly until your were squirming and arching your back from the bed. "that's it, baby. do just that." his thumb flicked your clit, causing you to buck your hips on his hand. 

you don't know how he understood, but you mumbled against his hand that you were going to cum. his smirk was evident in the dark room which caused you to be pushed to the edge even more. "are you going to cum? hmm? is my baby finally going to cum for the love of her life?"

all you could do was nod. it was cute to him.

when you finally reached your release, he made sure to lick off all of your juice from his fingers. you watched him slowly suck on his ring finger while intensely staring at you. "i love you. don't leave ever again. i better be the only one you do this to."

"only for you, baby. just you and me. choi subong and future choi y/n. okay?

[msriri030]

Husband! Bob x Spouse Reader

cw: light angst

You glared at your ex-husband, Bob Velseb, standing at your doorway with a bag of fresh meat that all but screamed his latest gruesome exploits. It wasn’t hard to connect the dots—people had been going missing again.

Bob’s lips curled into a disarming smile, his southern drawl honeyed and deliberate. “I’m home, darlin’. Why don’t I whip up something’ nice' for you and the girls? Just like old times.”

Your hands clenched into fists as a wave of anger surged through you. Did he really think you’d let him stroll back into your life after disappearing when your now three-year-old daughter was only two months old? Fat chance.

He had always been a storm of chaos, leaving destruction in his wake, but this time it wasn’t just about you. Your two daughters, peacefully asleep upstairs, were your everything. You weren’t going to let Bob ruin the stability and safety you’d fought so hard to build.

“No,” you growled, stepping into the doorway to block his path. “You can fuck off and leave the girls out of this.”

Bob’s smile faltered slightly as you jabbed a finger toward the bag in his hand. “And take that mess with you. The girls believe their father is six feet under, and I intend to keep it that way.”

His eyes darkened for a moment, the smile on his face twisting into something colder, more dangerous. But you held your ground, your protective instincts blazing brighter than any fear he could try to stir in you. 

“Six feet under, huh?” he drawled, his southern accent dripping with a charm that felt as fake as the smile plastered on his face. “Well, darlin’, ain’t that somethin’? Here I am, back from the grave, just to see my family. Reckon that makes me a ghost, doesn't it?”

You stepped closer, blocking the doorway entirely, your body a shield between him and the peaceful home behind you. Your heart raced, but you didn’t dare let it show. Bob thrived on fear, and you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction.

“Whatever sick game you’re playing, it ends here,” you spat, your voice low but resolute. “You don’t get to just show up after all these years and act like nothing happened. The girls don’t need you, Bob. We don’t need you.”

Bob chuckled darkly, the deep rumble of his laugh sending a shiver down your spine. “Oh, darlin’, you wound me,” he drawled, his tone laced with mock sincerity. “I’ve been thinkin’ about y’all this whole time, wonderin’ how my little girls are growin’ up. Don’t you think they deserve to know their daddy?”

“Wound you? You—" Your voice faltered as your hands balled into fists at your sides. You exhaled sharply, forcing yourself to steady your trembling voice. “Their daddy is the man who’s been there for them—the one who raised them. Not the one who ran off and left us to pick up the pieces without warning! So no, Bob. They don’t need to know you. Not now. Not ever… I’m sorry.”

Bob’s smirk faded slightly, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. But before he could respond, you continued, your voice breaking with raw emotion.

“Did you even think about how your disappearing act would affect them?” Your eyes filled with tears, and you blinked quickly, refusing to let them fall. “They asked for you day and night, Bob. Day and night. And I—"

You choked on the words, your pain spilling out in each syllable as you met his gaze. Bob’s frown deepened, his confident demeanor faltering as guilt flickered in his eyes.

For a moment, just a moment, the mask slipped, and he looked almost human like when you first met. Then, as if compelled by something primal, Bob suddenly moved toward you, his steps quick and purposeful. The air between you grew tense, and your breath hitched as his intentions became unclear.

You closed your eyes, bracing for the worst, your heart pounding as fear gripped you. But instead of pain, you felt the unexpected warmth of his arms wrapping around you. It wasn’t rough or forceful—it was tender, almost comforting.

Your breath caught as you opened your eyes, looking up at him through a blur of tears. His expression was unreadable, a strange mixture of guilt and longing etched across his face.

“Bob…” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He leaned down slowly, pressing a soft, almost reverent kiss to your forehead. The gesture left you stunned, tears spilling freely down your cheeks. It wasn’t what you expected, not from the man who had brought so much chaos and pain into your life.

For a brief moment, you saw the man you had once loved, hidden beneath the years of betrayal and destruction. Yet, the warmth of his embrace couldn’t erase the past or the weight of his actions.

You pulled back slightly, your voice breaking as you whispered, “Bob… Please, just leave. For their sake.”

Your plea wavered with the emotions threatening to overcome you. The love you thought had long since died began to flicker, betraying your resolve. It was a dangerous ember, one that could easily ignite the uncertainty buried deep within you. Bob noticed the shift, his eyes softening as he gently cupped your cheek with his hand.

“Darlin’,” he said, his voice low and soothing, “I’ll leave if that’s what you want. But just… let me have one cup of your famous hot chocolate. Like old times, yeah? You remember?”

You felt your resolve cracking further as you unconsciously leaned into his touch, nuzzling his hand. His words carried a strange sense of nostalgia that tugged at your heart.

With a sad smile, you nodded, stepping aside to let him in. “Fine… but please, don’t make too much noise. I don’t want the girls to wake up.”

Bob stepped inside, his smile broadening as his eyes roamed the familiar surroundings. The air between you was thick with unspoken words, memories, and the weight of decisions both past and present. You led him into the kitchen, your emotions a storm of conflicted feelings, wondering if letting him in was a mistake—or if the fleeting moment of warmth was worth the risk.

When you turned to try to backtrack, to take control of the situation, the sight of Bob rooted you in place. The man who had ended lives without hesitation now stood frozen before your wall, covered with photographs of the girls. Everyday moments captured with care—birthdays, school plays, lazy afternoons at the park. His gaze, however, was fixed on one particular picture: a family drawing, childishly scrawled in crayon.

It was simple yet heartbreaking—a depiction of all four of you holding hands in a park, smiling under a bright yellow sun. Beneath the figure labeled "Mom" was you, next to two smaller figures marked "Us." But next to the towering figure meant to represent Bob, the words "My Guardian Angel" were written in wobbly letters.

Bob’s face twisted as he stared, his usual confidence crumbling into something vulnerable, raw. Guilt rippled through his expression as he clenched and unclenched his fists.

Finally, he turned to you, who stood leaning against the kitchen doorway, your arms crossed defensively as you waited for him to process whatever he was feeling.

“I guess you couldn’t really tell them their dad’s a red devil, huh?” he murmured, his voice unsteady as he finally walked toward you.

You didn’t look at him, your gaze locked on the stove as you quietly prepared the hot chocolate. “No,” you replied softly but firmly. “I can’t.” 

The silence between you two stretched, thick and heavy, broken only by the soft clinking of the spoon as you stirred the hot chocolate on the stove. Bob watched you intently, his gaze tracing every movement with a mixture of longing and regret. He had missed you—the way you moved, the way your voice filled the room. For all his selfish desires, he knew better than to say it aloud.

Your voice shattered his thoughts.

“You know, Belle—our youngest—found an old picture of you.” You smiled faintly, but the sadness in your eyes cut deeper than any words could. “She was kissing it and asking where you were. I had to remind her… you were in ‘heaven.’”

Bob’s confident demeanor faltered. He looked away, unable to meet your gaze for the first time, guilt etched into every line of his face.

You poured the steaming hot chocolate into a cup, setting it down in front of him with deliberate care. “You know what’s funny?” you continued, your voice tinged with anger and exhaustion. “I feel jealous of how much she loves you. Because I know you don’t deserve it.”

Bob flinched as if the words had physically struck him, but he stayed silent, gripping the cup as if it were the only thing grounding him.

You stared at him, your expression hardening as you leaned forward. “They buried their memories of you with love,” you said, your voice low but sharp. “Now that you’re back…”

Bob finally looked up, meeting your glare, but the weight of your next words shook him to his core.

“What do you want me to tell them? Why?” Your tone cracked with emotion, though your resolve remained unyielding. “There’s no way to revive the man they’ve idealized without killing the truth of the one who actually left.”

The room fell silent again, the tension between you two palpable, as Bob struggled to find words that didn’t exist.

[smutoperator]

Taming The Tiger

Kim Chaehyun x Male Reader

Tags: all things tits, ball sucking, begging, choking, creampie, degrading, dominant man, facefucking, mounting, multiple orgasms, nipple pinching, pantyless, parking lot quickie, pearly gates, public sex, ripping clothes, rough sex, screaming, sexting, slapping, tit fucking, tit groping, tit sucking

Word count: 4492.

It had been a while since you gathered on a Friday in front of the KBS building to see the idols headed to Music Bank. As Kep1er were having a comeback, their last as 9 members, they got the most attention, especially a red-haired white tiger flaunting the massive assets on her chest.

Chaehyun smiled when she saw you. It had been nearly 9 months since you two crossed paths. She knew she had to act quickly and seize the opportunity. So, a few minutes later, your phone rang with a special notification.

"Wanna have fun with those tonight?" Chaehyun sent the message asking you, with two topless pics attached, one with her hands covering her big boobs and another with them fully on display. "Meet me at the parking lot after the show," you replied to her. "Sure," she said.

The hours passed by, and your anxiety only grew. You were very horny for that big-boobed little white tiger. You decided to take some coffee to not fall asleep and remained preserverant, waiting for Chaehyun.

Chaehyun finally arrived at your car, parked right at the KBS building parking lot exit. The windows were opened, but you weren't there. Maybe this wasn't meant to be the day. But she was about to get a surprise.

Seeing Chaehyun already at your car, you dropped the cup of coffee in your hand and slowly approached it, being careful for her not to spot you. Emerging from the same door as Chaehyun, you grabbed her from behind, right at their most coveted spot.

"Missed me?" she asked you, your left hand already on her boobs while your right hand covered her mouth. "Shhhhh," you told her. Although you had parked your car in a very private area of the parking lot, you didn't want to raise any concerns about getting spotted because you knew Chaehyun could be a very loud screamer if she wanted to.

"Shut the fuck up; I'm gonna take that pussy right here, ok?" you asked her. "Hmm hmmm," Chaehyun nodded as your hand covered her mouth. "Don't scream," you ordered her as you pulled her jeans down, satisfied with what you saw.

"You really came in prepared," you told her. "No panties whatsoever," you continued, spanking her ass and making her giggle. "Hmm, your butt isn't as big as Hikaru's or Yeseo's, but it's quite slappable," you told Chaehyun shortly after, giving her another spank.

You covered Chaehyun's mouth again and started running your hands over her already wet pussy. "Today you're going to do what I told you," you said. "Yes, baby," she said, but you couldn't hear much with her mouth covered.

Just a little massage in her pussy and you were good to go, taking your belt off as Chaehyun placed her right leg through the car's back window. "I'm gonna use this fucking pussy like a fleshlight," you told her, already sticking the tip of your cock inside it. Chaehyun moaned a bit as she covered her mouth with her arms this time not to make much noise.

Chaehyun gave you a big smile as you stuck your cock deeper inside her, letting out a louder moan shortly after. "Shhhhh, I told you not to be loud," you said. She gave you an apologetic stare, moaning silently this time. "This tight little fuckhole is perfect to get used," you told her as you started thrusting in and out of her pussy. She rested her head on the car's column, muffling her moans as best as she could, but not without a couple screams in between when you managed to hit her more sensitive spots.

"Oh My God, hmmmm," Chaehyun moaned and giggled as you found the rhythm to take on her tight pussy. Her out-of-breath moans were quite hot, and you praised her efforts to not let any sneaky stranger ruin your parking lot quickie with her. "Have you ever had the fantasy of having your pussy stretched out at the garage of a building?" you asked her. "No, but it feels so good, ahhh," she replied.

"AHHH. AHHHH. AHHHH. OHHHH. OHHHH. OHHHH." Chaehyun tried to contain her screams, but that didn't last long. It was in her natural instincts, and your cock was just too good for the little tiger. You had to pull out and massage her pussy a bit, but that only made her get louder, forcing you to place your hand in her mouth.

"Calm down with the screaming; I don't want KBS staff to see us," you told her, punishing Chaehyun for being a screaming whore as you now gave fast-paced pumps into her cunt. Her urge to scream was higher than ever, but your hands were there this time to prevent her from doing so. But even with them covering her mouth, she was still loud enough for her pleasurable moanings to be well heard.

It had been a few minutes, and you had yet to touch Chaehyun's most coveted assets. But you quickly fixed this, ripping her top apart and unveiling her bare milk trucks. "Oh yeah, OHHHHH," Chaehyun couldn't contain herself as you quickly groped her tits while still pumping her pussy hard. Her nipples were your preferred spot, as you soon find your rhythm to massage and pinch them at will.

"Ahhhh, ahhhh, ahhhh, AHHHH, AHHH," Chaehyun moans got louder as your hard thrusts meant her boobs were getting smashed against the car's column. Without pulling you, you took her right leg away from the car's back window, shoving her face down it instead. "If you're gonna be a screming bitch, better do it inside," you told her.

Chaehyun giggled as her boobs rested right against the cold surface of your car's backdoor. "There you go," you said as you pushed her body from the waist up inside the vehicle. "Oh my God," she said, and more prayers followed as you pounded her from behind nonstop while your hands gave her breasts the much-needed massage they deserved.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, fuck, fuck," Chaehyun said as you keep fucking her. "Get on your knees," you said, pulling her from the window as she obliged and went directly to suck your dick. You quickly tied her hands behind her back and started plowing her face. Chaehyun had to open her mouth to the fullest, as your cock was too thick for her little mouth, making her widen it and stick her tongue out.

"Bet you learned that stuff in your trips to Japan, cause you look like a human onahole." You paid attention to Chaehyun's tongue, not missing the opportunity to degrade her. "But now you're gonna show me what you really are: a human cow," you continued.

Chaehyun got the message as she pushed her saggy boobs up for you to stick your cock in between them. You titfucked Chaehyun much faster than you fucked her pussy, making her let out even more out-of-breath moans. "Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah," Chaehyun reacted every time your throbbing tip emerged out of her massive honkers, spitting on it and licking it a few times. 

"You're having too much fun for my liking," you tell her, grabbing Chaehyun by her neck and pinning her against the car, going back inside her pussy. This time, you have no concerns about her screaming. As a matter of fact, the louder the better. 

"AHHHHH FUCKKKKK, OHHHHH SHITTTT, OH MY GOD, AHHHHHH, YESSSS," Chaehyun screams as you fuck her like a toy, ducking your head down to such her tits simultaneously to all the pounding you give her. "USE MY FUCKING PUSSY, AHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHH," she continues to yell, enjoying being stretched out like a fleshlight as her smile gets brighter than ever.

"AHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHH," Chaehyun moans and giggles as she creams all over your cock. "Now, let's go home," you tell her. It felt like much more, but you guys fucked for a little under 10 minutes in the parking lot.

Running vroom vroom vroom like a supersonic and racing around the streets of Seoul like you were in a grand prix, you quickly reached your home. Your cock is still throbbing as Chaehyun jerked it off all the way through it like her personal gearshift. As soon as you get to your room, you shove Chaehyun's tiny body right in your spatious bed, topping her and giving her multiple kisses in her mouth and tits.

Chaehyun's big boobs get the most of your attention as you place your head between them and grope them hard while kissing her nipples. Soon, you start acting like a baby sucking his mother dry as you plunge your mouth into her areolas, wondering how big they would look with her pregnant and lactating.

"Ahhh, yes." Chaehyun loves the attention you give to her big tits, giggling every time you touch them. "Hmmm, so you like that, little tiger?" you rhetorically ask her as you now slap her fun bags and then rip apart the remnants of her top, surprising her with a hard dive straight into her left breast.

You then strip yourself naked and go back inside her pussy, placing Chaehyun's legs over her head. Her tight cunt means you have to spit on it a couple times to get in, but once you do, you ravage it, paying extra attention to reach into her boobs and grope one as you let the other freely bounce with the impact of your thrusts deep inside her.

Chaehyun prays to God once more, but he won't listen to her. Her nipples are now getting pinched hard as you can't stop pounding her. "Yes, yes, yes," she screams. "Shut up, bitch," you punch back, slapping her face. She reacts laughing at you, making you go feral and choke her again, showing who the real boss is, increasing the pace you pump her pussy and enjoying how hard her tits bounce as you do so.

But Chaehyun is a cute little slut and loves getting choked, reaching down her pussy as she starts fingering her clit, leading to her insides tightening around your shaft. "Oh my God, I fucking love it, oh yes," she says as you go back to pinch her nipples before getting even rougher and pinning her thighs against her body. 

"OH, OH, OH, OH," Chaehyun gives short but repeated moans as you continue to fuck her pussy. Her boobs bounce and are now hitting her thighs as her legs are fully open in the air. "OH, YES, YES, YES, FUCKKKK, GOSH," she yells as you attack her cunt full speed, slapping her face as she sticks her tongue out in pleasure. More choking and nipple-pinching ensues as you place Chaehyun into a fetal position and destroy her tiny little body with all your might.

"Fuck, that feels so good," Chaehyun says as you stimulate her tits with more sucking in between your hard thrusts. "AH, AH, AH, AH, AH, FUCK, I'M CUMMING, I'M CUMMING," she announces loudly as your breast stimulation proves too much for her to handle and she fills your bedsheets full of juices.

"Shhhh," you keep telling Chaehyun to be silent, as that slut is so fucking loud the neighbors are probably hearing everything of your fuck session right now. But your pleading has been futile, so you decide to take it by yourself, shoving your cock straight into her mouth and hammering her face nonstop. Chaehyun doesn't mind it, as she loves tasting her juices from your cock as you fuck her face. "Open your fucking throat, bitch," you tell her, who instead tightens it as if you're fucking her second pussy, forcing you to stretch it out even further.

You turn Chaehyun's little body into your playground: cock in her mouth, tongue in her tits, hands in her pussy—every inch of this slutty little tiger is getting stimulated now. You go all the way down and give Chaehyun a very dominating 69, eating her folds as your cock destroys her tiny mouth.

The hours of dancing and recording seem to have tired Chaehyun a bit, but you aren't going to give her any rest, immediately placing her on all fours and putting your cock back in her pussy. "OH YES, AHHHH, OH MY GOD," Chaehyun scremas as you pump her hard from behind. She looks so good being a submissive little slut. 

"Fuck, abuse my pussy," Chaehyun says as she can't even stand straight, her boobs now smashing against the bedsheets. "I like when you're in control; I do," she tells you as you tie her arms behind her back. "Hmmm, you do? I guess I can do this then," you tell her.

Seizing the opportunity, you mount on top of Chaehyun. The little tiger is now getting fucked like a cow by your raging bull, her little pussy getting pounded balls deep by your thick cock. "Oh, fuck," she screams, quickly regretting her words as you tame her.

"OH MY GOD!" Chaehyun screams, clinging to the pillow as you show no mercy towards her pussy. Fast, hard, and deep, you destroy her cunt full throttle while grabbing her neck. "OH SHIT, AHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHH," Chaehyun yells as she is turned into a little submissive fucktoy.

"Oh yeahhhh," you groan as you massacre Chaehyun's pussy. She can't even get on her knees anymore, you pressing her little body into the bed sheets in full force. "OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD," she begs, but the more she does, the harder you fuck her. Chaehyun gets prone-boned to oblivion while you massage her ass, as you apply to her the same position you tested on Hikaru and Yeseo's fat butts a couple months ago in Japan.

"OH FUCK ME, YES, FUCK ME," Chaehyun turns into a screaming machine. The pace you fuck her is unmatched by any of her previous partners. You use her with no regard for her little body; she's just there to get fucked until you cum, and you still have a long way to go.

Chaehyun is on the verge of tapping out as she rolls her eyes. You sniff her neck as you finally get fully on top of her body and trap her completely. "This is what you get for sending me those pics early this morning, you fucking slut," you tell her, your cock still buried deep in her pussy.

But truth be told, Chaehyun loves to be treated rough like that. Even after so much pounding, she lets out that beautiful, bright smile in full display for you to see, even as you continue to fuck her like an animal. "You scream so loud the entire neighborhood will call the cops on us," you tell her. "Well, let them do it," she says.

After a few deep thrusts that make Chaehyun cum again, you give her a little break, but this time, she wants none of it, with you having to demand she not ride you yet. "Suck my cock first," you tell her. Chaehyun is happy to oblige as she takes it deep in her throat and bubbles all over it. "Damn, that's really good; you've improved a lot; I guess Yujin was a really good teacher," you tell her as she gargles on your dick and slaps it against her tongue and then massages your balls before going down to lick them.

"Such a fucking whore," you tell her as she laughs with her mouth full of your balls, finding her favorite spot, savoring them to the fullest as she jerks your cock off. "Hmmm, hmmmm," Chaehyun enjoys your ballsack to the fullest as she moans with her mouth buried deep on them.

"Get on top of me," you tell Chaehyun as you slap her butt, thinking she's having too much fun with your balls and wanting to exert your control back into her. Chaehyun takes no time fully impaling herself, ready for the ride of her life. But she was in for another surprise.

As soon as Chaehyun fully sits on your dick, you stretch your arms to grope her tits and start thrusting up her pussy, giving her no time to answer, quickly crushing any hopes of Chaehyun to be a girl on top. Even though she was on top of your body, you were still fully in control, mercissely pushing up against her cunt and hitting her cervix faster than a car crashing in a high-speed oval.

"Oh fuck, yes, yes, yes," Chaehyun quickly surrenders into moans as you pump her up. Her asshole starts to gape as your balls go so far up they hit them nonstop. Your cock is like a piston, making Chaehyun's engine combust as you thrust into her faster than ever and hit the valves in her cervix, making her scream.

Chaehyun is just a roaring moaning mess at this point, as you use your fingers to apply extra pressure on her tits while they bounce hard. "OH, YESSS," she screams as you slap her boobs once again. "OH MY GOD, I'M GONNA CUM AGAIN," she says, which only makes you go even harder. Her pussy getting pumped, her tits getting slapped and groped, her neck getting choked. Chaehyun quickly starts falling down from her straightened position, right into your lap as she cums and gets increasingly clingy to you.

"Stretch that hole, use all of it," Chaehyun begs, getting out-of-breath as your cock keeps pumping her without rest. Your balls clap hard against her cheeks, and she loves it. "YESSS, YESSSS, YESSS," she screams as you choke her. You finally let her set the pace a bit as even you get a little tired of such rough and high-intensity fucking, grabbing her tits for some playing as you suck them again.

Despite all the pounding she's been taking so far, Chaehyun is restless and rides your cock quite well. I guess after a while you just get used to it, as she goes fast and hard as well, keeping the pace you had set while you enjoy her boobs like a baby.

"Let me see them bounce," you tell her, giving Chaehyun yet another slap as she straightens herself back up and gives you an amazing jiggling show to watch as she sits on your cock. But you quickly want to take control, pumping Chaehyun up again as she has to use all her forces to not fall down, making it even harder when you grab both her tits and go back to pinch their nipples.

"OH YES YES YES YES, AHHHH AHHHHH AHHHHH, OH FUCK, MAKE ME CUM," Chaehyun screams as she is back to being your fucktoy. Without even pulling out, you push your body close to hers, grabbing what is still left of her ripped-up top to bring her further close to you as you keep pounding her pussy.

You stop a bit to give Chaehyun a few kisses. She may be the perfect sex toy to use, but she's also a cute, clingy, girlfriend-esque girl that you love so much. And that's why you fuck her to the best of your capabilities, because you truly love her more than anyone else. At least for that night, because truth be told, you say that to every idol you have sex with, and you fuck a lot of them.

You push Chaehyun's body sideways and start treating her as an experiment for some crazy sex positions. "Holy fuck," she says, as you do that without ever leaving her pussy. She loves the way you know how to fuck, and to be frank, you really have a thing for short girls with big tits, as you always seem to fuck them the best.

Chaehyun was more excited than ever, giving you lovely smiles as you pounded her sideways. "You're so good, you're so good, fuck, yes," she kept saying as you had your mouth fully attached to her left boob, trying to milk it dry. "Fuck me, fuck me, I'll be a good girl; do everything you say, ohhhh fuck," Chaehyun kept saying, and you loved how submissive she had turned the longer the fucking went on.

"I want to try a new position on you; turn around and lay on top of me," you tell Chaehyun, who gets excited. You knew you had to do it. When you fucked Eunbi a couple months ago, this was your favorite position, meaning you had to try it on a ripe, young titcow as well, and especially because Chaehyun had the perfect combo for it: a similar body to mother Eunbi while having the face that resembled another of your favorite fucktoys in Irene.

"Oh shit," Chaehyun says as she does it, and you immediately place your hands in her clit. She's about to learn why the pearly gates position is so heavenly, as you then move up to grope her tits. You hit her hard and deep, and within seconds she's in heaven. "Ohhhhh my Godddd," she says, lowering her head and enjoying the ride you're giving her, especially with the great massage you now give her tits. 

"Oh God, that fucking feels so fucking good," Chaehyun says, cursing twice on the same sentence. You know her cunt is throbbing and adds further stimulation with your left hand running all over her clit now, while the right hand stays on her tits. Chaehyun starts laughing, but the stimulation is so overwhelming she quickly has to stop, as you know, pump her fast and finger her clit with fury.

"AHHHHHHH, AHHHHHH, AHHHHHH," Chaehyun squeals, and her voice finally cracks. Even the great vocalists succumb to the power of the pearly gates as your cock and hands all over her cunt make Chaehyun unleash her hardest orgasm yet. "OH MY GOD, YES PLEASE, YES, YES YES," she screams, grinning her teeth as her entire body shakes in orgasm. "OH, I'M CUMMING," she yells again, but her hardened nipples already can tell you.

Chaehyun enjoys her orgasm, as you can't stop fingering her clit. "My fucking legs are shaking so hard; I've never felt so good,"  she says, completely blown away by the position you just taught her. "AHHHH, I'M SO HORNY, YESSSS," she screams as her juices cover your crotch and leak out of her cunt. "Holy shit, why did no one teach me this position before?" she says.

Chaehyun could barely breathe, but you kept fucking her regardless, fingering her clit even harder as you searched for yet another orgasm. Her big tits looked better than ever right on top of you. "Oh wow, oh wow," she moaned, her saggy boobs wanting to detach from her body at any moment with how hard they bounced. "Holy fuck," she said as she came again in the same position.

You quickly pushed Chaehyun to the side of the bed, closing her legs and giving no break to her as you went back into working in her pussy. She gave you begging stares, wishing for this night to never end and for her to be forever your fucktoy. You dove your head right into her tits to do what you do best: suck them. Chaehyun was so horny that every thrust you gave her now put her on the verge of orgasming. You used her tits as your playground, one for your mouth, the other for your hands, all that while never stopping the pounding.

Chaehyun groaned as you massaged her nipples. "Fuck, yes, this is the best sex I've ever had in my life," she said, giving you another big smile that quickly got replaced by more moans. "I fucking love the way you fuck me," she said, rolling her eyes once again in pleasure.

You gave another break to Chaehyun in your high-paced fucking to worship her already sore pussy, preparing it for the final round. She loved the way you ate her wet folds, enjoying every second of it. "Oh my God, keep licking my clit like this," she said, giggling as your mouth made sounds all over her puddling cunt.

Chaehyun grabbed her tits as she closed her eyes and rested her head on the bed. You moved your mouth sideways all over her folds, getting her close again. "OH FUCK, HMMMM, YESSSS, AHHHH," she screamed again as you just finished, giving her pussy a little kiss followed by a hard slap.

Back inside it you went, with your hands instantly placed in her boobs, as you pressed them against each other, making Chaehyun laugh again. "Ohhhh fuck," Chaehyun said as you pounded her pussy like crazy for one last time, putting one of her legs all the way up in the air. "Holy shit, fuck me, yesss, ahhhh," she said.

"I'm gonna fuck you until I cum," you whispered to Chaehyun as you choked her again, giving her more kisses and then slapping her tits. "Oh, please, do it," she said. "Give me your cum," she continued as your balls slapped hard against her hips and you pinned her to the bed. "OHHHH, OHHHH, OHHHH, OHHHH," she moaned.

"Please, yes, I want your cum. I do; I want your cum so bad; give me all of it," Chaehyun begged hard for your load. "I want all of it, please, cum for me, cum for me," she continued. The more you fucked her, the harder she wanted it.

"YES, YES, GIVE ME YOUR CUM, PLEASE, PLEASE," just as she screamed it, you granted her wish. Beggars can't be choosers, and she didn't say where she wanted it, so you just filled her pussy to the brim. Having so much to give, you managed to pull out and paint her crotch white with some extra loads. 

"Holy shit, you gave me all of it, such a big load." Chaehyun got impressed as you turned her into your cum dump, giggling as she said afterwards, "Hope this is good to get me pregnant."

"That was fun," Chaehyun said as she kissed you. "Now I need to take a shower." Wanna join?" she asked you, heading towards the bathroom. You waited a bit as Chaehyun was already turning the shower on. "Come here," she said. 

Chaehyun started to shower herself, but although most of the sex fluids were at the bottom, she was paying more attention to her tits, pouring water on them as she teased you, until a sudden tingle hit her as a thick foreign object penetrated her anus.

"Don't fool me, you want a second round, you fucking little tiger, or should I say, little titcow," you told her.

"Yes, please, destroy my ass in the shower while you make those beautiful big tits bounce," Chaehyun demanded.

At this moment, you knew you had just begun to taming the tiger. This was going to be a really long night.

"Sure," you answered her. On the next day, Chaehyun was thankful for painkillers existing because you fucked her so hard she couldn't even walk.

[canihaveacalmtime]

"Here's your hot cocoa, have a good evening!"

You receive your drink as you bow, thanking the employee and go outside to find a seat. As you sat next to a decorated christmas tree, you look in front of you and see a giant build board printed a familiar face on it.

Should you be proud to know that your memory is very good because you could recognize your highschool bully?

Probably not, haha...

You take a sip of your cocoa, thinking about what had happened in the past between the two of you.

--------------------------

It's like any other highschool bully story that everyone always read, during your first year, you were picked on by the richest and the most handsome guy in school and he forced you to do his homework everyday for 2 years. Tormenting you in the halls, drag you out whenever his mood isn't it, making you a laughing stock for the whole school.

But why only 2 years? Because everything went upside down for him when the last year started.

His parents had enough of him and brutally cut off his bank account, told him that either he learn how to work hard or he'd never get his hands on his father company. When he thought that his long time friends would still be there to support him through this, they quickly turn their backs on him upon knowing that he has no use left to them.

During the time he was at his worst, you stepped in and offer him a helping hand, telling him that you will help him with everything for this last year and in return, he must comply with your one request and can not decline.

He was wary at first when you suddenly did that but he had no other choices as there was no one else except you that would help him anyways.

And he was not disappointed for trusting you, you supported him through every single thing, improved his grades making him in the top 50 of the school, engaged him in participating in that model contest and also fulfil the role of being a friend that he can rely on.

When the school year end came, it was also time he hear your request. You couldn't remember much about anything other than what you said, you can't remember how the scenery looked like, what the principal was saying on stage, even the look on his face because after you said it, you left immediately.

"Let's never cross paths ever again in this life, that is my request."

--------------------------

You realized that your cup is now empty just like how the streets are also beginning to be, so you throw the cup into the trash can and walk home.

You wonder back to the times when you were teaching him the subjects, you would sometime catch him staring in an obsessive way at you but you didn't really care back then because your hatred for him was too much but now that you moved on, you wonder why he was staring at you like that.

"He also said something after I left that day but I couldn't hear what it was.." You mumble as you step out of the elevator to your apartment only to be greeted with a door that is not locked at all.

Your movements were hesitant, slowly, you open the door with cautious as you also carefully step inside your home. Right after you had closed the front door, a sudden sting on your neck send you off balance, fall into someone's arms and fainted immediately.

"Come get me at the apartment now." The tall figure said through a bluetooth headphone device on his ears.

Your bully smile down at you with a creepy smile, inhaling your familiar scent as he hug you close and tightly around his arms.

"You can tell me to do anything, give you anything, to die even. Anything but letting you leave."

--------------------------

After they said those words, my world seemed like crashing down on me in seconds.

I guess I have no other choice but to fulfil a different request from them in the future then.

"I shall have you in my arms when we meet again, love."

--------------------------

(ayy pov change :D)

[cjlouwho]

Prompt: I've been thinking about a mixture of posts on here and I'd really love Tommy going to talk to Eddie because, maybe Eddie isn't being a great friend? I've read some people think Eddie would fall in line with Gerrard (due to being in the army etc.) and I'd love to see a Tommy/Eddie argument!

When Eddie got a knock on his door at 9pm on a Tuesday, he wasn't sure who to expect. He hadn't gotten a call or text from anyone, and he hadn't ordered any food. He figured he'd be arguing with Jehovah's Witnesses, asking them why the hell they were knocking on his door so late? Usually he'd avoid them altogether, but a little piece of him felt like arguing, so he swung the door open with a dramatic sigh.

He was surprised to see Tommy on the other side of the door, hand raised in a fist, ready to knock again.

“Oh. Hey, Tommy. I wasn't expecting you, was I?”

“Um, no. Can I come in for a sec?”

“Sure.” Eddie moved out of the way so Tommy could come inside, closing the door behind him. “Want a beer or something?”

“No, I really can't stay long. I'm heading to Evan's after this.”

Right. Buck. He should've known he'd be getting a visit from Tommy. Buck hadn't exactly left work, or Eddie, on good terms two days ago. Things had been tense for a few weeks now, actually. Everything had slowly been bubbling up until Buck finally burst under the pressure and was sent home early for insubordination. He'd actually been told not to return until he could learn proper chain of command, and if he couldn't learn within a week, he should start searching for a new career path.

“Is Buck the one who sent you?” Eddie asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Tommy shook his head. “No. No one sent me.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “So you're not here to kick my ass?”

“Should I be?”

“I don't know,” Eddie answered honestly. “I don't know what you've been told.”

It was kind of a ridiculous sight right now, if you asked Eddie. Two grown men, friends for months now, standing awkwardly in his living room. Neither making any effort to sit or get more comfortable.

“Evan's been having a rough time with Gerrard,” Tommy started. “Sounds like he's Gerrard's main target.”

Eddie shrugged. “Gerrard likes to push buttons. Buck's buttons are easy to push.”

“Last week he asked Evan if he'd like a bra to go with the apron he wore while cooking.” Tommy tensed even as he spoke the words. “That doesn't just sound like pressing buttons to me.”

“He's a wannabe drill sergeant pissed about the fact he never made it through basic training. You do what he says, keep quiet, use your manners, and make him feel like he's the most important person in the room. That's how you get through a shift.” Eddie moved to sit on the couch, but Tommy remained standing. “You know how this works the same as I do,” he added.

“Yeah, I do,” Tommy agreed, although his voice was a bit more commanding now. “Probably better than you do, actually. Doesn't make it okay.”

Eddie sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Why are you here, Tommy? I'm tired.”

“To try and stop you from becoming me, you idiot. I've been where you are. I've sat beside Gerrard and watched him treat person after person like nothing but garbage. I kept quiet, I made him feel important, I followed behind him like I was his damn puppy dog. I called him sir, I did whatever he asked, I laughed along with his jokes. You know what that made me?”

Eddie was starting to get annoyed. “What?”

“Him. I was no better than him.”

Eddie's eyes darkened. He stood back up, taking a step toward Tommy. “Are you seriously comparing me to that piece of crap?”

“If the mustache fits.”

“You need to get out of my house now,” Eddie warned. He could feel his body filling with the same boiling rage that got him thrown in jail a few years ago. He didn't need that to happen again.

��You repeat to me what Gerrard told Evan two days ago and I'll go,” Tommy offered. “Tell me what Gerrard said that finally made him explode and I'll leave.”

“Or I can call the cops on you for trespassing,” Eddie replied, moving to the door and opening it.

Tommy made no effort to leave. “Go for it.”

They stared at each other for a moment, Eddie's chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. When Eddie realized Tommy was never going to back down, his shoulders slumped. “Come on, Man, just leave.”

Tommy doubled down. “Tell me what he said,” he demanded, speaking each work slowly and carefully.

“H- He... God, Tommy.” He looked away from him, unable to maintain eye contact as he recalled the event. “Buck fell while we were at a scene, bruised his tailbone. When we were sitting down to eat, Buck moved slow. He winced when he finally got seated... Gerrard saw and said th- that maybe if he... if he spent less time taking and more time giving he wouldn't have so much trouble.”

“But,” Tommy beckoned for him to continue.

Eddie took a deep breath. “But he should have expected Buck to be the woman.”

Tommy nodded. “There it is.”

“Listen, Tommy, I-”

“He could've really used someone sticking up for him. One person to step in and tell Gerrard he'd crossed a line. I get that Hen can't do anything right now. She can't risk not getting Mara back. And I know Howie can't do anything to lose Mara. But you could have said something, Eddie. You could have been there for him, but you weren't.”

And there was the anger again. “Why the hell is it on me?!” he exclaimed. “I've been going through my own crap, and it's not like you or Buck have really been around to help me out.”

“Oh, you cannot be serious right now.” Tommy's posture straightened, his body somehow becoming even wider and taller. It would have caused Eddie to pause and think about what was about to come out of his mouth if he wasn't so mad.

“Yeah, I am serious. I've needed people too, Tommy, but you guys have been too busy with each other to even notice.”

“You made the mess you're in right now, Eddie!” Tommy yelled. “You did that! You screwed up and it's on you to fix it! But Evan didn't do anything wrong. He sure as hell didn't deserve to be talked to like that, and now his job is on the line because you decided keeping the peace with a piece of scum like Gerrard was more important than speaking up for your supposed best friend. So, yeah, that's on you!” Tommy began to make his way to the door, ready to push past Eddie on his way, but Eddie wasn't finished.

“Hey!” He yelled, shoving Tommy back so he couldn't leave. “I've been trying to fix everything on my own! Trying to get my own life back! Hell, I just got to talk to my kid for the first time in over a month!”

“And who you think got Christopher to answer the damn phone?!”

It felt like all the air had suddenly been sucked out of Eddie's lungs. He stood there, his mouth hanging open as he tried to find the right words to speak. “I... Buck's been talking to Christopher?”

“Every day,” Tommy confirmed. “He calls or texts. Facetime's him every once in a while too. He's been telling Chris how you're doing, trying to get him to call you or text you. He even suggested writing you a letter.”

“I didn't know that.”

“He didn't really want you to. Christopher had promised him the next time you tried to call, he'd answer. Evan's been like a kid on Christmas Eve, excited for you to tell him how it went after you two talked.”

Eddie didn't know what to say. He wasn't angry anymore, just incredibly disappointed with himself.

“He's always had your back, Eddie,” Tommy said, making his way out the door. Eddie didn't stop him this time. “It'd be really nice if you had his.”

[simpee9000]

Not Just Friends - 2 -

Prologue : Chapter 1 : Not edited : 3.4k words : M.List

Childhood best friends turned into something more, at least with the label. Katsuki Bakugo, a fast-rising hero and fast-learning guy who is ever so slow in getting attached to and loving someone. Even three long years into a relationship, and your friends even forget you're even dating. Nothing happening, spare a few kisses.. like 3 kisses, during high school. Graduated and living together, and you guys have done absolutely nothing to further the relationship. Are you sure you're not just friends? CW: Smut, brief domestic violence discussion, virginity loss, aggressive flirting from creeps, gore with pro hero stuff (lmk if i missed any) Applies to all chapters regardless of it is in said chapter.

---

-suit colors -can shut my quirk completely off -isn't a piece of shit -password. -others cant turn my shit off either      -katsuki

The note Katsuki left was majority scribbles, clearly written the second he left. You found it right when you were leaving, the crumpled sticky note being placed next to your keys.

Getting the watch set up and made for him would be difficult. Mainly making sure others can't tamper with his quirk. Everything else would be easy. Two weeks tops. Simply needed to take the same material used for his gloves and gauntlets and use it for his watch. The password and personal quirk disabled features would also be easy, just using the same techniques that normal quirk handcuffs use.

When you got to your office you immediately got to work. Drawing up the design and adding in the small details you wanted to add. You went through your email as well, getting the details Izuku sent you about what he wants. Unluckily for him, you would have to order the stuff he needs, everything Katsuki needed was already in the building. His case was personally yours so you saved up any left over materials from his suit. The quirk removing feature would take more time to set up though.

---

"Hey!" someone shouted, tacking your name to the end.

You just entered Katsuki's hero agency for lunch, talking with the sweet old receptionist. Ignoring the shout, you thanked the lady for buzzing you up. Walking over to the elevators and pushing the button to go up.

"Don't ignore me!" The voice whined. You rolled your eyes stepping into the elevator and frantically clicking the button to close the doors.

The doors almost shut completely, a hand stopping it a second to late and getting crushed.

"Fuckin' christ!" You opened the door as quick as you could, trying to make sure they weren't injured. They were doubled over, holding their hand to their chest. "Are you okay?" You asked, grabbing their shoulder to lift them away, attempting to see the injury.

They started shaking and panic ran through you, before you could yell to the receptionist to call paramedics they started laughing. Standing up straight and smiling, placing their 'injured hand' on your shoulder to support their laughter.

"Oh go fuck yourself," you brushed them off. Pressing the elevator open again.

"I'm sorry it was too easy!" He smiled. Moving to stand next to you again.

You ignored him once again. Stepping into the elevator that he unfortunately joined. Looking at the door that previously crushed his hand. "You broke the door," you pointed out, crossing your arms.

"Holy shit, Bakugo is going to kill me," he paled.

"That's what you get for activating your quirk between metal, Kirishima," you commented.

"Ouch, last name?" he feigned pain, clutching a hand to his heart, "Come on, how was I supposed to know?"

You glanced at him briefly, "You nickname your quirk unbreakable, what did you expect?" You deadpanned.

"Not that!"

"Be serious, I know you're not that dumb," you said, stepping out of the elevator at Katsuki's floor. Beginning the path to his office.

"I just wanted to talk to you," he complained, "but you ignored me completely."

"I wonder why."

"Come on," he pleaded, "I said I was sorry."

"Don't care," you knocked on Katsuki's office.

"Please," he begged.

"No."

Just as Kirishima opened his mouth to beg more, Katsuki opened his door. "The fuck are you two bitching about?" Katsuki looked at you for an answer. Which you shrugged and made your way inside. Sitting in his desk chair and sorting through the food he ordered for you two.

Katsuki turned his head to Kirishima, wanting an answer. "She won't talk to me," he pointed at you like a child.

Katsuki turned to you, raising an eyebrow, "Really?"

Before he could start getting to you about acting like a child you pointed back at Kirishima, "He broke your elevator."

He glared at the red head.

"I was just trying to talk to her!"

"And you needed to break my elevator to do that?"

Kirishima paused his comeback, knowing anything he wanted to say would be flawed. You choked back a laugh, cause Katsuki to turn to you.

"Don't act like you're innocent," he pointed, "All ya had to do was to talk him and my door wouldn't be broken."

"Nah, he broke my shit," you shrugged.

"I said I was sorry!"

"Yet now you just broke his shit too," you backed.

"What else did he break?" Katsuki asked.

You pointed towards Kirishima, and his hero outfit, "He broke his shoulder guards, again. I've fixed them five times this month because of the stupid shit he is doing."

"Whatever, out," Katsuki motioned for Kirishima to leave. Which he did, with a pout on his face. Katsuki shut the door and walked over. "Why do you insist on stealing my chair everytime?"

"The other ones aren't comfortable," you answered, handing him his food and opening yours to start eating. "Oh!" You perked up, "I finished the design for your watch, just need everything ordered and I'll start on it."

He took a break from his food, looking up at you, "How long?"

"Shipment should get here in two days, they just had a huge order and have a ton of left overs, so I'm using the stuff they have extras of. Wanna see the design?" You smiled, pulling up a picture on your phone when he nodded.

He looked over the notes you wrote down, zooming in on the smaller details, "looks good."

"Good!" You smiled.

His office door opened, "I forgot, we're having a little get together at Denki's place Saturday," Kirishima smiled before shutting the door again.

"No."

"Come on Kats," you begged, trying to meet his eyes.

"Nuh uh," he took a bite of his food, looking up briefly and meeting your eyes.

"Please! We haven't hung out with them in forever!" You pointed out.

"We hung out last night."

"Yeah, with Z', not with your friends."

"No."

He glared at you until he felt your hand rest on the top of his, "Please?"

"Fuckin' fine," he brushed off your hand and continued eating.

---

"This is lot more then a little get together," Katsuki grumbled right after pushing the door open. Disregarding a knock all together and walking straight in, taking a pause in his step.

You took a glance over his shoulder, since he took up the majority of the small hallway that started off the apartment, seeing the solid twenty or more people that crowded Denki's and Sero's apartment. "It's fine, it's not like we are forced to stay long," you pushed his back lightly, getting him to walk in entirely.

"Kacchan! Surprised you came!" Denki smiled once he saw Katsuki leave the hallway, you stepping out from behind him. "Thanks for dragging him here," Denki came up to you, giving you a one armed hug since his other hand was holding a beer.

"What else am I good for," you joked, "Didn't you say this was a small get together?"

"I was just trying to increase the odds of #2 pro hero coming in," he shrugged, Katsuki shooting him a glare and you a look, saying he wished he never came. "Now make yourselves at home, I gotta make sure Mina doesn't eat all the jello shots."

You watched Denki skip to the kitchen, instantly yelling at a stuffed faced Mina. Looking around the room you saw Sero sitting in a chair with two open spots next to it, turning back to Katsuki, he already knew your look, "Go, I'll get you a drink."

Sero saw you heading his way and gave you a wave. He was sitting in a recliner and had a loveseat spaced next to it. You took the loveseat and leaned on the armrest close to him, kicking your feet unto the other half of the couch to prevent someone stealing Kats spot.

"How's work?" Sero asked once you gave him your attention.

"Good, busy as always. But I've been ahead of the game lately, I think I can start branching out more on my own soon," you smiled.

"Exciting," he smiled, " I see you got the grump outside for once," he nodded to Katsuki, who was being badgered by some of Denki's sidekicks/partners.

You laughed, "Yeah, you're not the first to tell me that tonight, but I'm not surpised. He went out with me last night to Z' as well."

"Did you drug him? I won't snitch."

"No, I think his mom yelled at him or something," you pretended to expose. Hiding the truth behind Katsuki's behavior, which was likely the civilian death he had to deal with recently. "But how's your work?"

"Meh, it's hero work," he drank from his cup, "Recently had to deal with a spider villain so it was weird. It was like fighting myself if I had eight legs and eyes."

The two of you continue to talk about work or recent things between friends. Briefly discussing Kirishima and Mina's budding relationship that's been going on for years. Just before Sero could question your own relationship, Katsuki came back.

"Fuckin' nerds wouldn't leave me alone," he grumbled picking up your legs and sitting on the couch with you, handing you a drink.

"You love the attention," you bumped him with your knee, "and careful, might summon them again."

Casual conversation formed once again, banter between you and Katsuki, and annoyance from him to Sero. On the heated topic of old heroes. With Sero caring less, and just wanting to rile him up.

You smiled along with their conversation, more focus on Katsuki. He's rested into the chair despite being annoyed at the conversation. Having a hand rested on your knee and the other rested on the armrest, holding a low carb beer. Which he took a sip of every once in a while before he had to tell Sero he was wrong again. You admired every move of his, from his sharp jaw, to defined cheekbones, and his bright red eyes. Only stopping when Sero called you out.

"Stop eye fucking in front of me," Sero gagged.

"The fuck?" Katsuki question, not ever aware of what you were doing, "We're not."

"You might not be," Sero smirked.

"Oh fuck you, Sero," you rolled your eyes. Ignoring the blush you felt heating your face.

"Don't push your feelings onto me," Sero teased.

"Oh my god," you groaned, " I give up." Sero crackled as he laughed at you. "Shouldn't you be talking about your dumbass celebrity crush in America?"

"Who's that?" Katsuki questioned, willing to change the topic of conversation again.

"He has a crush on an actor, Ryan Reynolds. The one that reenacts the old anti-hero Deadpool," you informed.

"It's normal in America! Every guy loves him, even the straightest!" Sero defends.

"You do know the murders that Deadpool committed right?" Katsuki questioned, wanting to get on the topic of heroes, a topic he knew everything about.

The debate between whether Deadpool committed crimes for good or not was easily started. Giving yourself another chance to look at Katsuki. Not wanting to be caught you looked at the hand rested on your knee. Reaching out your own hand to trace over his. Soft and smooth from his sweat but rough from the work day. He let his hand lose the soft grip on your knee, letting you hold his entire hand freely. You traced over the rough pads of his fingers that you knew would turn soft again in the morning. Rubbing your thumb over his knuckles and the veins that lined the top of his hand. Remembering how a few years ago he would freak out if you tried to do this exact thing. Only this year has he started to let you hold his hand for longer than five minutes.

Yet he still wasn't perfect. Eventually he pulled his hand from your grip and wiped his hands off on his pants. It seemed like he didn't want your touch on him, it stung. You knew that was unlikely, but the thought couldn't leave your mind. you folded up. Crossing your arms slowly and turning your attention back onto Sero. Which caused his eyes to flicker between you and Katsuki, clearly reading your face. Before he could ask anything, he gave him a slight shake of your head.

Eventually Kirishima dragged Katsuki away from the conversation, wanting him as a partner for cup flipping.

"How come you aren't flirting with girls, Sero?" you asked, used to him normally parading the party rooms for someone to flirt with.

"Denki called dibs on everyone here basically," Sero shrugged. He sat up from his slouched sitting, " Now, what the fuck was that?" Sero motioned from you to where Katsuki was now playing games with Kirishima.

Play dumb.

"Whatcha mean?" you took a sip of your drink.

"Don't play that shit with me, He pulled away from you completely," he pointed out.

"I know, he always does that," you pointed out, wanting to stress that this wasn't a big deal.

"Always? You're kidding"

"Nope," you took a sip, "He's actually improved."

"You're saying it used to be worse," His jaw basically dropped.

"It's Katsuki you're talking about right now," you deadplanned, "Speaking of which, we never talked about this. He doesn't know it bugs me and he doesn't need to."

"Yes he does," Sero stressed.

"No he doesn't," you hissed, " I don't want him knowing. It's fine."

"Come on-"

"Sero, stop."

Before he could push forward someone entered your peripheral, standing in front of Katsuki's spot. Turning your head towards him you gave a guarded smile.

"This seat takin?" he somewhat slurred.

"Yeah it-"

"Kidding! I know it's not. No one has sat here for a good 10 minutes from what I've seen," The guy plopped down on the couch, giving you barely enough time to kick your feet off the couch and scoot over the crowd the armrest into order to not touch the guy. You and Sero shared a look. "So, what's a girl like you doing here alone," The guy smiled, slapping a hand down on your thigh to gain your attention back from Sero.

"I'm not alone?" you peeled his hand from your thigh, dropping it back onto his lap, "I was actually just talk to my friend here abo-"

He put his hand back on your thigh, "I was asking why you had no boyfriend here, you're so pretty."

"I do have one-" you tried to cut in.

"I'll be your boyfriend, names Mason," he smiled weirdly.

Once again, you peeled his hand off your leg, "No thanks."

"Is it cause the name? I'm from America, I'm not lying about my name to sound cool," he hurried out, replacing his hand on your thigh.

"Trust me, I know you're not trying to sound cool," you spoke out disgust, "Now could you please not?" Sero and you shared another look, his asking if he should step in, but you shook your head. You could handle this just fine.

He pondered for a moment, "It's cause you don't know me right? Well, I'm from America. Here to learn about the Japanese heroes-"

"Dude," you cut him off, "I could give less of a fuck, please leave me alone."

"Don't play hard to get," he grabbed onto your leg harder.

Just before Sero jumped in-

"I leave for five fucking minutes," Katsuki spits out.

The guy looked over the back of the couch, "Sorry, did you plan to make a move? I swung first sorry dude, better luck next time."

"No, I fuckin' plan to swing first on the dude that's holding onto my fuckin' girlfriend."

You took the opportunity of the guy being distracted to get his hands off you, and to leave the couch.

"Hey, babe don't leave yet, the guys just being an ass, he'll leave soon," the creep called out to you.

Everyone's attention was on the guy now. Staring at him baffled that he called #2 pro hero an ass right in front of him and his girlfriend. You stepped closer to Sero, prepared for what was about to happen.

"That's it," Katsuki grabbed the hair on the back of the guys head and yanked him down. Couch flipping over with the guy. A quick stomp on the dude stomach had him rolling over in enough pain.

"My couch!" Denki yelped.

"Fuck your couch and fuck your party," Katsuki walked up to you, grabbed your hand and pulled you to leave.

"Gimme a second, I want to say bye," you tugged on his hold when he got to the hallway that lead to the front entrance.

He looked at you baffled, "You just got felt up, they could care less if you said bye right now."

"Kats, I'm fine. I would of handled it if you didn't."

"Fine, say bye," he waved you off, crossing his arms and guarding the exit.

You walked up to where Kirishima, Sero, and Denki were standing watching drunk Mina lecture the creep.

"Hey, I'm heading out," you spoke from behind them, getting their attention.

"That's fine girl, Imma kick his ass more for you," Mina slurred as she jumped to hug you, almost knocking you off your feet. She pulled back from the hug and held onto your shoulders, "You okay?"

"Yeah," you nodded, getting her out of your hold and pushing her into Kirishima, "Make sure she doesn't do something stupid."

"I will, I'll deal with the guy too. What he did was fucking gross," you flinched, it was rare to hear Kirishima curse.

"I bet you will," laughed off. Hugging Sero and thanking Denki for inviting you, all of them double checking if you were okay. It warmed your heart that they were heroes, it was truly the right career. So after confirming that you were fine, you walked back to Katsuki.

"Done?"

"Yep," you put your shoes back on and left the apartment together.

Once in his car, Katsuki turned to you. "You sure you're okay? I'll go put the guy in fucking jail."

You laughed, "I'm fine, Kirishima has it handled."

"You sure?"

"It's not the worst thing a guy has said to me," you shrugged, "Can we get some fast food?"

"The fuck else has a guy said to you?"

"Nothing important Kats, can we drop it? I'm fine."

He eyed you warily, trying to find the correct way to go about this. He sighed and gave in, "What fast food?"

"I don't know, I want a shake."

---

The two of you got the food and cozied on your couch, digging in once you had a random Netflix movie playing. With half of your attention on the movie, and half on the situation, you decided to bring it up. "Is it weird that what the guy did doesn't bug me much?"

Katsuki glance your way, "No? Everyone has different reactions to everything."

"The main thing that bugs me is that people can't tell we are dating, like ever," you said honestly. "Like the dude didn't buy I had a boyfriend in general."

He hummed in reply.

"Our own friends forget half the time, like I wish they knew we were together, and took my word for it," you sighed.

"I know how you feel," Katsuki looked down at his hands, that held his half eaten burger.

"Even you feel that way?" you grabbed a couple fries to eat.

He looked at you, "The other night with that Nana girl, just wished it was more obvious."

"We can't blame them though, it's not like we act like a traditional couple," you shrugged and took a sip of your shake.

"Sorry," shame filled his voice.

You turned to him with you're full attention, "Why are you sorry? You haven't done anything?

"That's the issue," he crossed his arms," I don't do anything, I fucking brush you off me," he dropped his arms again. resting them on his knees and putting his face in his hands.

"Hey," you reached for his shoulder. Stopping when he flinched away from you, "Sorry," you mumbled. Forgetting he hates being sneaked up on or touched when he isn't paying attention.

"This is exactly what I'm talking about, I don't do anything but pull away from you. And you're honestly telling me you're fucking happy in this relationship?" Katsuki looked at you. Getting up to pace when you just stared at him, confused by his outburst.

"Are you not?" you asked, watching him pace the room.

He paused, "Why wouldn't I be? You give me everything I need. I don't even fucking acknowledge your primary love language while you hit every goal of mine."

"Kats, what I said to the girls the other night is the truth, I'm okay with it. The things you need are just as important, and if that's to not touch, that's fine."

"Fucking bullshit-"

"Katsuki," you said his name sharply, "I mean it."

"I don't know how-"

"That doesn't matter, you're worried I'm unhappy and I'm telling you that I am happy. Because I am, now can we please not get into this right now? Tonight already hasn't gone well."

"Fuck, you're right, I'm sorry," he rubbed his hands over his face and went back to his spot of the couch. leaving his food half touched. He opened his arms, "You can lay on me if you want."

"Katsuki, I told you, no physical touch is-"

"That's not what I'm getting at, c'mere," he motioned towards himself. And who were you to refuse, quickly curling up into his side and watching a movie to wash the bad day off you're mind.

-Next Part-

In them m.list of this fic comment if you want to be added into a tag list <3

I'll no longer add people to the taglist if they haven't commented there. It's too much to keep up with all the new part. Hope you understand <3

[florxdexcerezos]

He laughed again. "This was not my own creation I assure you. Only the picture is mine." Still, he appreciated the misattributed credit. Joseph shook her hand, and turned his head to better hear her. "I'll be sure to stop by should I fancy a snack for the road. Lovely chatting with you Miss Alejandra." He dipped his head in sign off and watched her walk off. When she disappeared amongst the patrons, he finally stopped.

Without his camera, he felt naked, especially as he caught the eye of other ladies at the gala. Oh god. He just wanted to get back to his desk. Avoiding direct eye contact with anyone, he felt around the pockets in his suit jacket for his vibrating phone. Ananas . It must have been early hours in the morning for her, she should be in bed. Finding an exit out of the room to find somewhere private he took her call.

With Anna off to bed as directed, Joseph decided to call it quits. He decided to try his luck with Adan in the kitchen. In exchange for food, he asked for Adan to pass a message of congratulations and thanks to his cousin. He also thanked and offered to tip the gentleman. Not taking no for answer, he left $20 on a counter and wandering off before it could be handed back.

Time to crawl back into his hidey hole.

Alejandra wanted nothing more than to skirt the responsibility of talking to someone who didn’t understand why she did this, just donated because it was a big tax payoff, to continue talking with Joseph. Someone who she was actually enjoying talking to. But she did need the donations to keep things going.

Smiling, she reached out for his card. ❝ Que lindo! I'm going to need you to design my business card too! This is art. ❞ The fact that he was going to set some of his favorite snacks aside for her to try made her smile even wider. She was used to people wanting to talk to her just to get her number or expect something out of her. Having someone actually promise her something besides a 'good time' was nice. ❝ It was wonderful talking with you, Joseph.❞ She held out her free hand to shake his. ❝ And I look forward to seeing you at our other events, where I will definitely ask for that Lucozade. ❝ If you talk with my cousin Adan in the kitchen, he can give you some stuff to go if you like.❞ She leaned in closer to say under her breath. ❝ These people spare no expense to the food but tend to not eat it, so we usually give it away at the end of the night.❞ Pulling back, she smiled at him one more time. ❝Hope you enjoy the rest of the night.❞ Then went off to talk to more donors.

[dazed-and-confused23]

Dear Hearts and Gentle People 4

Summary: After their reunion at the Atomic Wrangler, Cooper decides that he wants more than just a quickie out of his wandering trader.

Pairings: The Ghoul | Cooper Howard x Female Reader

Warnings. Drug use and Alcohol. Fluff and Smut. Little longer than the other ones ❤️

DHGP Masterlist

Cooper sits on the side of the bed, inhaler in hand as he stares down at the chem. You are still asleep behind him, body tangled in the sheets, exhausted after the exciting reunion between the two of you. You had been a breath of fresh air for the ghoul, especially after finding out the truth behind the fate of his family, and then Lucy, the vaultie, had left him too. Gone back home to her vault to save them from those goddamn Bud's Buds.

Cooper had elected to stay in Vegas. He likes the city, and the booze was cheap, and the chems were even cheaper if you knew where to get them. However, now that the ghoul was borderline sober, and with you by his side, Cooper realized that he'd had something to look forward to. To live for again. You.

Every time the two of you had crossed paths, you never failed to send the ghoul's black heart racing. You were a wastelander through and through, but you were good, and Cooper didn't want to let that go. No. He would hold on tight, and nothing in heaven or hell would get him to let you go.

First thing first, however, was to show you that he was serious and that he cared for you beyond a quick fuck and drug transactions. Cooper turned in the bed and leaned over you, tucking his knuckle under your chin and kissing you until you woke up. A soft sigh escaped you when the ghoul pulled away, and you opened your eyes to see him above you.

"Well, that's one way to wake a girl up," you murmur, and shift to your back, opening your arms so that Cooper can fall against your chest, his face pressed in the crook of your neck. You hum softly and press a kiss to his bald head, "What's got you in such a good mood?"

Cooper buries himself against you, shoving his arms under you so that he can hold you close. He listens to your heartbeat, and the sound of content he makes sounds more like a cat purr than anything else. He debates with himself before deciding to hell with it.

"Let me take you out. On a proper date," He began, and the more he spoke, the more he felt like his old self, Cooper Howard, before the end of the world, "You deserve it after everything you've done for me."

You eyed him, though your lips were already turning up at the idea. Who knew your ghoul was such a romantic? You tilt your head to the side, "Oh? And what did you have in mind?"

Cooper rises to his elbow and admires how your hair halos around your face. You are beautiful, even sleepy-eyed, and dressed in nothing but your panties.

"We're in Vegas, Baby. Let's make the most of it."

~~~~~

Mick and Ralph's had a surprising number of preserved prewar clothing, and you picked through the dresses looking for the perfect fit. You spotted a cute, blue number that would hug you in all the right places and billow out at the waist. Mick even had a cute pair of kitten heels that he gave you on the house.

Cooper had also done some digging around and conveniently found one of his old set costumes. The colors were faded, but they looked brand new compared to the get-up he always wore. Dressed to impress, the ghoul admired himself in the cracked mirror. If you ignored the obvious, Cooper looked like he'd just come off set of A Man and His Dog.

He wold whistles when you step out of the back room, and even though you're custom to his flirty behavior, you still blush bright and give Cooper a tiny grin. You've never had an opportunity to wear something so nice before, and it made you feel different, but not in a bad way.

"Well, look at you, Darlin'. All dressed up and beautiful for little ol' me," He crooned and snagged your hand, spinning you in a slow circle so that he could admire you from all angles. You give him a smile so full of fond amusement that Cooper’s heart stutters in his chest.

"Only for you, Cowpoke," you say and curl your hand behind his head to tug him down for a quick kiss that Cooper melts into.

After paying Mick and Ralph, Cooper escorts you to the gate of the Strip where the securitrons let the two of you by after flashing the passports you'd paid the shop owners for. Inside, the flashing neon lights made you squint, and you did your best to take it all in at once.

"A lot's changed since the last time I've been here," Cooper comments and casts his gaze around. It's been over two hundred years, but the Vegas Strip still felt the same. The two of you bypass Gomorrah and the Ultra Lux, and instead, head for the Tops where a man with blonde, slicked-back hair greets them with a suave grin.

"Hey, hey cats. My name is Swank. Welcome to the Tops Casino. The floor is open, and Tommy's got some real class acts tonight on stage if you're interested."

The two of you hand over any weapons that couldn't be concealed and head upstairs to the theater. A live band is playing on stage, and a place has been cleared in the middle of the room for dancing. Cooper leads you to a corner booth and drops to kiss your brow before he lopes off to order you both a drink.

From there, the night goes off without a hitch. The two of you drink til you feel tipsy and brazen enough to tug the ghoul out to the dance floor where Cooper upstages you and everyone else there. He twirls and dips you, leaving you a giggling mess and eyes only for him.

At some point, Cooper gets the grand idea to spend some caps on some chips, and you stand beside him as he cleans the blackjack table, coming away with more chips that you have to help him carry back to the exchange desk. The two of you eventually stumble out of the Tops and mosied back down the road to Gomorrah.

Their weapons are confiscated once more, and Cooper pays the receptionist for a hotel room for later on. He doubted that they would be sober enough to leave this place later on.

His hunch was right hours later when the two of you stumbled to the elevator. Coop's arm is tight around your waist, holding you close to keep you from tipping over. You cling to him, giggling as you wind your arms around his neck, and he catches your eyes, glassy from the jet that one of the dancers had given you.

"Your eyes are so pretty, ya know that?" You slur, and Cooper snickers as he leads you out of the elevator and down the hall to the room he'd rented. He's not nearly as gone as you, but he chalks that up to being used to the substance abuse.

You plop on the bed and reach back for the zipper of your dress, feeling too constricted in the blue fabric, and get stuck with it halfway off. Cooper laughs at you and comes to help, tugging the dress away and tossing it behind him before he pounces.

His lips meet yours in a slow kiss, a gentle give and take that turns heated when you bite his lip hard enough to hurt. You sooth it with your tongue, and groan when Cooper curls his own around the slippery muscle, the kiss wet and sloppy. He looms over you, keeping himself propped up with his elbow, while his other hand grips your waist, and rocks his hips down.

Cooper groans into the kiss when his clothed cock meets the heat between your thighs. You buck against him, whining into the kiss and demanding he take his damn pants off already.

"Patience, young grasshopper," Cooper rumbles above you and slides off the bed to button his shirt and jeans. He folds them almost reverently before he turns back to the bed and crawls on top of you, "Great things come to those who wait."

You scoff at him, though your lips are tilted up in amusement, "I've been waiting forever, Coop."

Your legs fall open and wrap around his waist. You are so wet that the ghoul can see slick glistening in the low light of the room where it clings to your puffy folds. He swallows harshly when you reach down and spread them, giving him an excellent view of your clit and twitching hole.

"Now I want you to fuck me like you mean it."

Cooper doesn't need to be told twice and spits in his hand before wrapping it around his cock and stroking himself twice before he lines up and sinks down to his balls. Your cunt throbs around him, pulling him impossibly closer, and he falls forward, hips humping forward as you cling to him.

Coop fucks you like it's his last day on Earth. He shifts to his knees, and his cock slips even further, pressing against something inside you that makes stars shatter. You curse loudly, Cooper’s name falling from your lips like a mantra as he hooks your legs over his shoulders and bends you over. The new position makes it hard to breathe, but all you want is more.

"'M close," Cooper grunts in your ear, and you lock your knees around his head, meeting him thrust for thrust as you work for your release. He unlocks his jaw and bites into the hollow of your throat. The pain is enough to send you over the edge, your pussy fluttering and gushing around the ghoul's cock.

"Ah-fuck," He snarls and follows you right over the edge, pumping you full of seed until it dribbled out from your stuffed cunt. He finds your lips kissing you as he rides out his orgasm, hips jerking when you tighten around him.

Cooper lays there, breathing you in and curling his arms tight around your waist. He is far too tired to move, and you don't seem to mind the extra weight with how tightly you hold him back. The ghoul feels at peace as if a part of his life he'd been missing has slotted back into place. He raises his head just enough to catch your eyes, and you reward him with an adoration-filled smile, but it's your words that cause his heart to explode like an atomic bomb.

"I love you."

You don't expect Cooper to pull you in for another kiss, this one soft and slow. He rests his brow against yours and wonders how he ever made it this far without you.

"I love you, too."

Holy moly, that got way sweeter than I intended. I hope you enjoyed it!❤️

[pinecipitation]

Pine,,,, smiling friends headcanons, how do you think each of the boys would react to their crush saying they feel safe with them :> if not all of them, your boy Alan and Charlie and Pim (asking for us both im shaking)

SMILING FRIENDS X GN!READER HCS

FIRST OF ALL,,,, HAIIII TEDDYYYY :3 ❤️💛 HELLO WIFE HI LOML…

second of all YESSS SMILING FRIENDS CONTENT WE R SO BACKKK let me get to work ‼️

word count: around 1.2k

authors note: oh my god this was in the works for like a month, I be procrastinating really hard i’m sorry gang 😔�� also I’m so sorry alans is so short despite him being my favorite one I’m fighting for my life in here man

CHARLIE: (s1e6)

charlie… is almost relieved to hear it, honestly would immediately flip a switch and do the very most to KEEP you as safe as you can be- but hide it in a playful manner. would carry you for the rest of your life if you asked, just because you inflated his ego.

The two of you are almost halfway in the enchanted forest, you walking in front of Charlie as you hold a little makeshift map in front of the two of you. The whole time Charlie is pointing out little shortcuts, you erasing and drawing paths over and over on the paper until a particularly strong gust of wind blow it away from the two of you, his shocked mouth open and yours would’ve opened if the pencil wasn’t still in your mouth. You didn’t want to say it, but you felt a little aggravated at him for losing your focus like that.

You stop to let him speed up in front of you, the two of you continuing onwards in silence before he speaks.

“Listen… I-“

“It’s fine, you go and I follow. I trust you.”

The minute those words left your mouth, Charlie immediately stops and turns to look at you, the clinks and clanks of his armor making it almost comedic.

“What?”

“…I said you could lead the way?-“

“No,” he shakes his head, the helmet shifting with him, “After that.”

You look at him quizzically, your arms awkward by your side as you look to the side then to him again.

“I trust you?”

What you couldn’t see was Charlie internally squealing like a little girl, happy that someone like you can allow themselves to be so carefree around him. Except you weren’t just someone; he’s unknowingly had a thing for you long enough to where it’s embarrassing that he hasn’t made a move. But, somehow, you telling him that made him understand why he got so nervous around you. Why he always felt let down whenever you had a different mission that day and couldn’t hang with him and Pim. Why he always slightly pulled aside the seat next to him in the office just so you’d sit next to him instead of across.

He finally realized he liked you.

But of course, he’d never say that out loud.

What he did do, however, was immediately grin and flex, his armor audibly showing him move as if he were showing off in a gym mirror.

“Well of course you do, I’d be concerned if you didn’t think a hero like me could protect you. I mean, look at me,” he plays along, successfully earning a chuckle from you before you roll your eyes and shift the bag on your shoulder before you keep moving ahead.

“Alright, hero- hey-!” Your joking manner was cut short as Charlie picks you up, flinging you over his shoulder as his laugh rockets off the trees around the two of you.

Your giggles and pleas to be let down drowned out as he thought about that sentence once more, thinking about what to do to hopefully hearing it again another time.

PIM: (s1e4)

pim….. he’d be so happy, would internally have a little panicked spongebob brain moment but on the outside he’s a stuttering blushing mess. as if he isn’t pink enough.

“Don’t worry, i’ll use this rock to mark the trees- we can find our way back easy!”

Pims words seemed like an echo, his happy go easy personality twenty minutes ago almost feeling like a warning now that the two of you crossed that bridge. The two of you just barely escaped the rain, logs and sticks discarded as the rickety cabin door you called shelter slammed shut.

You were both dripping, Pims cowboy outfit making wet stretching noises every time he stretched his leg or raised his arm. Your outfit was also drenched, a small rip or two from the thorns you pulled away from on the run here.

You were still kneeled over catching your breath as the thunder pursued outside, Pim shakingly clearing his throat before looking up at you with disappointed eyes.

“Listen,… I’m really sorry, I didn’t think it would rain or anything but even then I shouldn’t have taken us across the bridge, and now it’s my fault we’re here-,” he begins, his wet hat now in his hands as he stares down at his cowboy spurs. He only really looked up once he hears you interrupted him with a laugh, a sound he immediately feels his cheeks redden to.

“Don’t worry, it’s just a little rain. We’ll be okay- plus, I feel safe with you. I know we’ll make it back fine.”

You were facing down trying to wring the water out of your hair and costume, thinking nothing of it, but to Pim?

To Pim, it meant everything.

He immediately stopped, his eyes widening as he stares at you with his mouth slightly ajar, the redness in his cheeks instantly spreading to his nose and ears. It took two or three tries for him to get his words out, the clothes on him somehow feeling tighter the more he tried to express himself.

“You… you trust me??” The way his meek voice instantly made you straighten up and look at him, the barely there water in his eye almost making you feel guilty for saying it.

Immediately you went to go hold him, your hands wrapping around his back as he listens to you giggle out a ‘Of course! Pim, are you okay?’ and he nods in return. His hands interlock together behind your back, his cheek on your shoulder as he thanks you.

ALAN: (s2e3)

alan… my wife.. would definitely think about asking if you’re SURE. in that case, he’s taken it upon himself to keep his eyes on you like a HAWK, unfortunately intimidating everyone around the two of you.

You seem to feel oddly safe perusing the streets of CrimeVille, thinking back on everyone’s warnings of how dangerous the place was. This is too easy, you think, feeling like everyone was just exaggerating the state of where you two were. What you didn’t realize, however, was Alan shooting everyone the stink eye of the century as he walks behind you.

It wasn’t too long ago when you two left the OfficeCrap, the following conversation unexpected as you both walked out.

“I can do it myself, I don’t want you going to that part of town…” Alan mumbles, the soft mechanic noise of the sliding door behind you helping end his sentence. You only shake your head, shushing him before pronouncing how you’ll be fine, and you trust him to protecting you if anything.

Unbeknownst to you, that’s the only thing Alan’s been thinking about since you left. Fortunately for Alan, being tall and having a somewhat stoic resting facial expression, he was very easy to intimidate anyone looking at you.

He almost walked like your shadow, hands in his pocket as he walks over you like a protective red totem, his blue tie occasionally brushing the top of your head as he looms over everything.

[elixirfromthestars]

key: angst ☽ | fluff ☼ | 18+ ♡ | 500+ notes ✧ | 1,000+ notes ୨୧

─ ⊹ ⊱ Series ⊰ ⊹ ─

The Biker's Tulip ☼ ୨୧

biker!bucky x florist!reader

A small town. A biker and a florist, each one carrying the burdens of their past, and yet despite that, finding solace in one another along the way...

─ ⊹ ⊱ Two Parts ⊰ ⊹ ─

Conflict of Interest ☼ ☽ ✧

detective!bucky x lawyer!reader

After the many failed dates Natasha set you up on, you decide to give up on the dating scene all together. That is until Bucky makes it his mission to change your mind, but will he be enough to change it?

Part II ☼ ☽

After deserting Bucky at the fair, you are left dealing with the consequences. This becomes difficult as you are all assigned to a new case. 

A Night Of Frights and Delights ☼ ୨୧

athlete!bucky x artist!reader - college au

It's Friday the 13th and the college kids in town decided to host a weekend camping trip on the outskirts of town. Your best friend convinced you to go much to your reluctance. What could go wrong when the one guy you can't stand is also there?

Part II ♡ ☼ ✧

You and Bucky have danced around the lines you've placed ever since that weekend camping trip. Months later, when Tony Stark hosts an extravagant party, he finally makes a move to cross them.

─ ⊹ ⊱ Oneshots ⊰ ⊹ ─

One Call Away ☼

agent!bucky x journalist!reader

You’re a journalist in the late 1950s working for a gossip magazine. You write an article about the actor Steve Rogers, and his agent Bucky Barnes is not happy about it. He confronts you and offers you a deal.

In Five Years ☽

bucky x enhanced!reader

Bucky was having a hard time expressing his feelings about finally being free from the Winter Soldier program. To help him out, you suggested writing a letter to his future self and burying it in a time capsule to visit this moment again in the future. The plan was to open the time capsule five years from now. That was until Thanos showed up.

My Dearest ☼ ✧ ☽

duke!bucky x lady!reader

On the night of Lady Maximoff’s ball you find yourself in the gardens, troubled by your emotions. As if by fate, the rain pours down reuniting you with the one who is the very object of your troubles.

Written in the Stars ☼

bucky x avenger!reader - established relationship

Your boyfriend, Bucky, takes you on a date full of surprises under the stars.

Boulevard Confessions ☼ ୨୧

40s!bucky x nurse!reader

Being a third wheel to Peggy and Steve wasn't your ideal Thursday night fun. However, when they tell you Bucky is tagging along you eagerly decide to join them. That is until a third party makes its presence known.

Sink Your Teeth In Me ♡☼୨୧

bucky x neighbor!reader

You and Bucky are supposed to attend Sam's party on Halloween. However, when you show up to his place looking like temptation itself—he gets other ideas on how to spend the night with you.

Crossroads ☽

bucky x neurosurgeon!reader

On a rainy night on your way home, fate decides to cross your path with someone who used to hold the dearest place in your heart.

Dancing Embers ☼

40s!bucky x nurse!reader

A cozy cabin, the love of your life, and the warmth of a fire. What more could you ask for on a cold winter night?

By The Warmth Of The Oven ☼ ୨୧

bucky x avenger!reader

You are baking cookies for the Avengers holiday party when a certain super solider comes into the kitchen tipsy for the first time...

In His Embrace ☼

agent!bucky x journalist!reader

As a new day begins and the snow cascades beyond your windows, you know there's no place you'd rather be than in his arms.

A Snow Day With You ☼

athlete!bucky x artist!reader - college au

The end of the semester has you stressing beyond belief, so Bucky decides to cheer you up by spending a snowy afternoon sledding.

─ ⊹ ⊱ Drabbles ⊰ ⊹ ─

Together ☼ ✧

bucky x wife!reader

It’s been a month since you had a baby with your husband, Bucky. On the first day he went back to work, however, you can’t get her to stop crying—that is until Bucky comes home.

Fieldwork ☼ ☽

detective!bucky x lawyer!reader

You end up getting hurt while out in the field questioning a suspect. Thankfully, Detective Barnes is there to help. 

Lucky Day ☼

bucky x reader - college au

Bucky, your childhood best friend, takes you to a baseball game to thank you for helping him with his chemistry class. However, between bets and kiss cams, luck seems to be the real game being played.

Tranquility ☼

bucky x avenger!reader - established relationship

On your day off from saving the world, you decide to have a date in the park with your boyfriend Bucky.

⌞‼⌝ I do not give consent to have my work posted, translated, or published to any third party site or app. 

⌞‼⌝ All images/gifs used are not mine, and come from google unless specifically stated otherwise.​

⌞‼⌝ Heart divider by @/enchanthings

[pastorpresent]

Part 2 to this, as an apology, except as with everything I write, it gets worse before it gets better lmaooo

-

Things had been tense between them, since that night. So tense that Wade had taken to making up a makeshift bed on the floor, and that was about the only time Logan even saw the mercenary.

During the day, their paths rarely crossed.

Mary Puppins was loving it. Their lack of communication meant that Logan was fairly certain she was ending up with double the food and double the walks.

Al was sick of both their shit, and had made sure to let them both know several times. The phrase 'emotionally constipated dick for brains assholes' sprung to mind.

Logan knew it wasn't functional, but then again he was barely functional these days. If he wasn't too drunk to be conscious, he was chain smoking on the couch watching shitty reality tv, trying in vain to conjure up Wade esque commentary alongside it in his head (and wasn't that fucking crazy, to miss the idiots ramblings) and pretend that the arms he wrapped around himself belonged to somebody else.

He'd looked at other apartments, but he couldn't afford the rent, and there was still something tethering him here. Maybe he was clinging onto something long gone, but maybe it was salvageable. He needed to believe that, because he'd never had anything worth clinging too since his old team, and that had been a long time ago.

So he couldn't bring himself to leave. Because even if him and Wade only saw each other in passing for what was likely a grand total of thirty seconds a day, he needed those thirty seconds.

He was fine. It was fine.

Well, that is until one afternoon when he'd arrived home from a grocery run.

When he'd opened the door, he was surprised to see Wade's shoes on the rack. He had been at work when Logan had left, and normally he was there until at least five.

He very almost called out for the man, but decided against it. Whatever reason it was, Logan was certain it was none of his buisness.

He headed to the kitchen, noting their shut bedroom door, which also wasn't all that uncommon these days. Wade spent most his time locked away in there, likely in an effort to avoid him.

There was something niggling at him, though. An anxiety he wasn't used to feeling, because he wasn't used to caring about people enough to agonise over their wellbeing. It had been too long, and so the feeling felt unfamiliar and wrong, and it compounded onto everything else that was unfamiliar and wrong in his body.

He was about ready to buckle under the weight of it.

What if Wade had left work early because he'd been hurt? What if someone had come for him for whatever reason? What if he was sick? Could he get sick? What if he-

The carton of milk he'd picked up to put away burst under the strength of his grip, getting all over him and the floor.

Fuck it. Fuck all of it. He'd just check quickly to make sure the bastard was okay, and it would mean absolutely nothing, and then he could go back to putting the groceries away and not destroying half of them in the process. He was only checking on him because he couldn't afford to replace more food, basically, which was a completely normal thing to do. Obviously.

He goes to their room and flings the door open.

Wade is fine. He's... he's more than fine, probably, Logan thinks vaguely as he stares at the scene in front of him.

He'd not seen Vanessa's shoes at the door. Had they been there? Maybe he'd missed them. Maybe he'd been too focused on Wade's. He should go check.

"Logan-!"

He shut the door. Because it was the right thing to do when two people were fucking, and despite the general concencess - he was polite. Not because he couldn't look at them without wanting to scream and break shit and throw up.

It's a blur, leaving the apartment. He almost slips on the puddle of milk dogpool is currently lapping up, and he hopes Wade has the sense after... after he's done to mop it up so Al doesn't slip.

Wade, cleaning up his fucking mess. Again. Ironic that that's exactly how this whatever-the-fuck between them is going to end.

He shoves his shoes on, skips out on a jacket because he needs to be out of here now, because the air is too thin and he's going to fucking suffocate, regenerative powers be damned. This is what dying feels like, actual dying, and he's certain of it.

His skin is burning. So are his eyes.

He doesn't take a key. Doesn't need to be back. He's never coming back in again, he's sure of it.

What the fuck was he thinking, staying here? Bombarding into Wade's life like a piece of a puzzle that doesn't fit properly, leaving gaps around him and fucking the whole thing up.

He's wrong. He doesn't fit here, because he's from another puzzle entirely, and he should never of left his box. Maybe that's why everything was so fucked. His body knew on a level that his brain refused to acknowledge yet that he didn't belong in this world. He didn't belong with Wade, even if it's the safest he'd felt in years.

He's sobbing and probably completely incoherent by the time he stumbles into the nearest TVA post, but they don't question his state or why he makes his request. They just do it.

//

"Logan-!"

Wade pushes Vanessa away from him rather than making a grab for the covers, which says more than he'd care to analyse at the minute.

Logan doesn't say anything, which is the worst outcome. Wade wants to be cussed out. Have a liquor bottle thrown at his head. Anything, dealers choice!

But not the crestfallen expression as he quickly shuts the door. As if Wade's exclamation had been from aggravation at being interrupted, rather than a place of genuine oh fuck no.

It's his own fault, and he needs to fix it now.

"Wade, where are you going?" Vanessa asks, her frustrations thinly veiled as he scrambles off the bed and tries to find his clothes.

"Logan- he... I need to make sure he's okay," Wade explains in a rushed sort of garble, and where the fuck did he throw his shirt?! He wanted to punch his horny self in the face for not neatly folding his clothes atop of the nightstand.

"He's 200, and didn't he live in a mansion with a bunch of teenagers? I'm sure it's not the first time he's walked in on people having sex," Vanessa deadpanned, and Wade wanted to shout at her that she didn't get it, but that wouldn't be remotely fair.

How could he expect her to know anything about the thing him and Logan had failed to even discuss themselves? Especially... especially when he'd called her for this exact purpose.

He'd been having an awful day at work. Beyond shit. He'd been spoken to like an idiot by some asshole who only seemed to come to car dealerships to flaunt his knowledge of each vehicle for an hour straight. His manager had screamed at him for an hour over a two dollar till discrepancy, and he'd learnt they were taking away two lots of commission from him due to his name not being 'cohesive' enough on the paperwork.

That, on top of how royally he'd fucked up things with Logan by pushing him too far too quickly, and he just needed to feel like he could do something right, and experience a few minutes of sweet post orgasm bliss.

He'd called Vanessa, been pretty fucking transparent about his intentions of it as a one time hookup, clocked out early under the guise of not feeling great and met her at the apartment.

Logan was out on the grocery run, which normally meant he'd be out a couple of hours.

He wasn't meant to come back earlier. He wasn't meant to open the door.

Because Wade knew how it looked, he did. It looked like he'd given up on... whatever the hell they'd been building, because it had gotten messy and he just wanted to get his dick wet.

And he'd done some real fucked up things in his life, but if Logan thought that was remotely true, even for the five minutes it would take Wade to find him and correct it, that was going up there with the very worst.

"I need to find him, 'Ness. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I just..." he couldn't say it, because he was an emotionally stunted child, and he needed to apologise to her properly too, for dragging her into this - but his brain was going too fast for his mouth and he was left without the ability to say any of it.

"Wade," she interrupted quietly, pulling on her own shirt and coming over to him with his own dangling from a finger, "it's okay, alright? I'm not blind, I know he means a lot to you. I just wish you two assholes would figure it out," she smiled softly, and Wade frowned.

"I- I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called," he murmured, and she shrugged, kissing his cheek and pushing the shirt against his chest, "eh, one last hurrah was needed before you settle down with that one. Pretty sure you'll never be single again, Wilson. Or will it be Howlett?"

Wade let out a surprised sound, choking on air momentarily while she laughed at him.

He pulled on the shirt, giving her one last small smile before rushing out the room.

//

He'd been searching for days. He'd went into every bar in a ten mile radius of their apartment, had spent an entire weeks wage on cabs just driving the streets. Looking for literally any sign of him.

None.

He was fucking desperate. His calls went straight to voicemail, and he even got fucking missing person posters made (he was too depressed to even photoshop kitty ears onto the photo he used which, come on).

He wasn't sleeping. The idea of never seeing Logan ever again all because he was too much of a pussy to talk to him? It killed any sembelence of appetite he had, and any hope at settling enough to sleep.

The TVA was his very last avenue of hope. They could see everything, so they'd have to be able to find Logan.

He hadn't even bothered to put on his suit, and the agents looked thoroughly confused when he entered, not used to seeing him without it.

It was hung up in the closet right next to Logans. Taking it away from the untouched yellow felt too much like an omen for Wade to proceed with, if he was being fully honest with himself.

"I need your help," he said, feeling the eyes move with him as he strode across the room up to the lead agent. He didn't know his name, and didn't frankly care to either.

The guy frowned, "Wade Wilson, right?"

"Can you locate people? Get a general whereabouts for them? My friend is... missing," he interrupted, cutting right to the chase. He didn't have time for pleasantries, and God knows he didn't have the temperament as of right now.

"Ah," the guy hummed, "you're looking for Logan. Well I regret to inform you, Mr Wilson, but he requested that information remain quiet-"

Wade might not of packed any weapons, but he tended to thrive with improvisation, which was how he ended up with the fucker pinned against the console, a pen inches from his eye.

"My friend was feeling a smidge unstable, so you'll have to forgive him for making you make promises you can't keep however," he pushed down an arm against the guys neck, who choked beneathe it, "I'm substantially more unstable, and unless you tell me where the hell he is right now, I'm going to ram this pen so deep into your skull it pops out the other side, then I'm going to make you use it to write down his exact coordinates. Understood?"

And maybe it was overkill. Just slightly, because the guy just seemed remarkably harmless, but there was no way Wade was leaving here without knowing the exact address of whatever bar Logan had opted to drink himself to death in.

The guy nodded frantically, raising his arms in surrender.

"He- he's returned to his own timeline, I'm afraid."

Wade stumbled backwards.

No. He must've heard wrong, because Logan wouldn't of done that. Couldn't of left forever, not when... not when they hadn't fixed things.

"I am sorry, Mr Wilson. But Logan was very clear that he wanted to return to his home-"

"I'm his fucking home!" Wade screamed before he could reign in the building anger, tears burning in his eyes, "this is his goddamn home, you fuck. Our- our beds here, and our apartment, and our dog and... and me, so you're going to give me your stupid time jumping thing and let me go bring him back to his actual home," he seethed, his chest heaving as he glared at the man.

"I can't just give you my tempad. You've already proved yourself dangerous to other timelines previously-"

Wade laughed, and laughed, until the guy gave a nervous chuckle himself, forcing a smile, and then Wade grabbed him by his neck and tossed him onto the ground, grabbing his tie as he did in order to choke him before crouching down and getting uncomfortably close.

"You think you've seen me be dangerous? What I'm going to do to you if you don't give me what I want will make all of my past actions look like a kitten riding a fucking unicorn over cotton candy clouds in order to go to an ice cream parlour," Wade threatened, and he meant every word.

He pitied the stupid asshole who kept him away from his Logan. Fucking idiot. And it was so fucking stupid, because Logan probably didn't want anything to do with him anymore. I mean, could there be a clearer message that quite literally hopping timelines to get away from somebody?

But it couldn't end like this. He wouldn't let it. It couldn't end with them barely speaking, two ghosts sharing an apartment. It couldn't end with Logan believing what they'd had for so many months, and what they very almost had that night a few weeks ago, meant nothing to him.

The fact was - it was the thing that meant the fucking most.

He loved Logan Howlett, and something about that thought, hitting him with such clarity as he threatened to murder a man, made everything make so much more sense.

He needed to see Logan. Now.

Maybe the guy could see the emotion in his face and pitied him. Maybe the universe was rewarding him for conjuring up genuine emotion and acting on it. Maybe the guy just didn't want to be decapitated.

Either way, Wade ended up with tempad in hand. Logistics and reasons were no longer relevant.

"Thanks, sweetness. See ya soon!"

He pressed the button, dissapearing from the room and leaving behind a dozen horrified employees.

//

The first time he'd been to Logan's timeline, he hadn't exactly seen much. He spawned into the bar practically atop of him, and he'd dragged his unconscious body through the portal back to his own world in that same bar.

He wasn't exactly wanting a full tour regardless. From what Logan had divulged after too much alcohol and the safety of their bedroom walls, his world was very anti-mutant.

Logan insisted a lot of it was down to him, but Wade believed people fucking sucked, and if they wanted to hate something, they didn't waste time looking for a reason to do it.

When he stepped through the doorway, it was into a dark street.

He didn't recognise where he was, and he could only hope he was somewhere close to Logan.

He glanced around, but nothing really caught his eye, until he noticed a shrouded alleyway, with a metal door.

It didn't seem to be attached to any store front, and Wade figured it probably fit the description of shady ass bar slash potential strip club enough for Logan to be inside.

He knocked. A burly guy opened the door, and glared at him, "fuck off, your kind isn't welcome here you fuckin' freak," he spat, about to slam the door, but Wade stopped him.

He wanted to break the guys face, lecture him on acceptance while pummeling him into the concrete, but there was a sinking feeling in his stomach that was nagging at him to get inside, and to do that he'd have to play it smart.

"You think I'm one of those mutant freaks? Fuck no. Sick bastards. This? Is from a warehouse fire," he gestured to his face, and the guy looked immediately apologetic.

"My bad man, my bad. Can never be too careful, y'know? Thought we'd almost eradicated the fuckers, and then one turns up at the door a few days ago. Luckily for him, we were needing some entertainment around here since the last catch kicked the bucket," the guy smirked.

Wade had to swallow down bile.

"That's what I'm here for," he replied, unable to really formulated anything else around the suffocating fear filling his lungs. It wasn't an emotion he was used to feeling, but the idea of Logan being used as 'entertainment' in this place was enough for the blood in his veins to freeze up with it.

"Come on in then, man. Just down the stairs, to your right," he stepped aside, and Wade quickly pushed inside, following the directions.

The hallways grew dimmer as he went, lights flickering and buzzing, and then... cheering.

The fuck was this place?

Posters spewing death to mutant slogans were littering the walls, and Wade forced himself to keep moving, hoping and praying that Logan wasn't in this twisted fucking place. That he'd gotten it wrong, and the brunette was in some slightly less terrifying place drinking away his emotions.

He rounded the corner, pushing open the double doors, and the cheering grew into a roar as he entered a room full of bodies, people herded in a circle surrounding a cage.

A cage, which Logan was currently in.

Wade pushed his way to the front, getting drinks spilt down him as he shoulder checked men double his size. He stumbled forwards like a moth to a flame, eyes wide, grabbing the bars and staring at the man he loved in utter horror.

Logan was chained to the bars in thick metal cuffs, and he had a collar strapped around his neck that Wade was far too familiar with. He was on his knees, slumped forward, bleeding from wounds Wade couldn't see properly. He was stripped down to a pair of dirtied boxers, breathing heavily, muscles pulling from obvious pain.

"Twenty dollar entry, and you can do whatever the fuck you want to him, folks! A genuine, dirty fucking mutant - and not just any, either - The Wolverine himself!" The crowd erupted in yelling and boos, the stench of alcohol overwhelming as men pushed into him from behind, trying to get a better view.

Look at me, baby. Look up. I'm here, I'm going to get you out. I'm so sorry.

Wade wished that Logan could hear his thoughts. He wished so badly he could just tell him it was going to be alright.

He started trying to move his way to the door of the prison where the presenter freak was, pay his dues. If he could just get in there, he could open up a door back to their timeline and pull Logan through. Easy.

Someone beat him to it.

"Alright, get ready for the show, folks!"

The door opened, and unless you were really searching (Wade was, because he's always searching Logan's expression, always wanting to know how the other was feeling) you wouldn't notice the slight flinch Logan did when he heard the sound.

Wade watched with baited breath as the sick fuckface approached. His fingers itched for his gun, so he could empty a few dozen rounds into the bastards smug mouth.

It was cowardly and fucking pathetic. Having Logan chained up, powers suppressed, helpless to do a damn thing all while he was beat on.

The man wasted no time.

He kicked, and punched, and stomped every inch of Logan that he could, being utterly brutal with it, blood splattering on him and the ground and a few drops even landed on Wade, who was watching the scene on the other side of the bars, screaming Logan's name, begging him to at least try to fight back.

He didn't. His only movements were the jolts from the impact of the beating, and Wade was fairly certain he had to be unconscious until the man dug his fingers into his hair and pulled his head upwards, giving a better view of his face.

Wade choked on a building sob, the air being yanked from his lungs.

Logan's entire face was battered and bruised, swollen beyond recognition. There was more blood than skin visible, some fresh and some sticky looking, half dried, and some flaking off. A testament to how long he'd been trapped in this hell hole, to how many men had paid just to make him bleed.

Guilt gnawed uneasily at his stomach. If it wasn't for him and his stupid selfishness and inability to express his goddamn emotions, Logan would never of left. He wouldn't of ended up here, and he wouldn't be about to die in some disgusting back alley fight club while all Wade could do was watch helplessly. He caused this. He caused the person he loved the most in the world to be quite literally dying on his knees, at the mercy of assholes who had none to offer him.

The guy punched him hard across the jaw, earning a sickly crack, before spitting on his face. The crowd cheered him on, laughing and whooping.

Logan didn't react, blinking blearily beneath two swollen black eyes. When the grip of his hair dissapeared, he slumped back towards the ground like a rag doll.

Wade needed to get in that fucking cage right now. He shoved his way to the door, where the presenter guy was stood, looking almost bored.

Wade's desire for murder was going fucking crazy today. It should be a genuine testament to his self control that he hadn't killed half the stupid fucks he'd encountered, even if said restraint was only born from a need to save his friend.

"I've got one hundred. I want in now, but I want the cuffs off," Wade held up the crumpled bills, and the guy looked between the cash and the cage.

"Cuffs off? Don't think you get how dangerous this one is, kid. He's got a list of victims longer than the damn Bible, and I ain't getting in there to pull you out if he decides to gut ya like a fish. His powers may be suppressed but he's still fuckin' strong," the guy warned, and Wade plastered on the sleeziest smirk he could manage.

"I've got it, I want to be able to snap all his fingers in two. Doesn't seem right that they are protected away in those cuffs, they deserve the same treatment as the rest of him," his brain was screaming at him, the words physically hurting as he spoke them, like razor blades crawling up his throat and cutting his mouth to ribbons.

The man shrugged, "whatever," and a buzzer rang out.

"New contestant entering the ring!"

The door was opened. The man who had just been beating Logan strode out with a satisfied look on his stupid face, and Wade might of been refraining from actual murder, but absolutely anyone could've stuck their leg to the side and tripped the fucker. Anyone at all, really!

He followed the presenter into the cage.

Logan didn't move, or look up.

The cuffs got removed, and Wade got a pat on the shoulder as the man left, along with a sadistic "enjoy, all yours."

Logan was slumped into a heap on the floor, and now Wade was closer, he could better see the extent of the damage.

Every breath Logan took was laboured and wheezing, short pained gasps. The blood truly was everywhere, along with... other bodily fluids, which Wade sort of expected. This didn't seem the sort of job that allowed for frequent bathroom breaks.

He crouched down, reaching out to lightly rest a hand on Logan's bicep, on the area with the least damage, which was sickeningly hard to find.

Logan whimpered beneathe his hand, curling in onto himself further, a whispered "stop," barely audible under the weight of the crowds chants as they goaded him into beating the man in front of him further.

"Logan," he breathed, but the older man seemed to be buried too far in his own head to realise it was him.

Wade wasn't wasting anymore time. He needed Logan out of here, and the stupid inhibitor collar off of his neck so he could heal before he died from his injuries.

He opened the portal, and before anyone could even unlock the cage to get in, he was dragging all 300 pounds of Logan back into their apartment, and quickly shut down the gateway.

He left him bleeding on the carpet while he raced to the kitchen, rifling through drawers until he found the small metal magnetic device. A gift from Colossus a good while ago, which had the ability to open up those awful collars. Something told him brute force wasn't an option for Logan right now.

He returned, that uneasy pit in his stomach only growing when he discovered Logan was still in the same spot he'd left him in, staring up at the ceiling but seemingly not seeing anything.

"Hey Lo, I'm gonna take that collar off now, alright?"

His voice earned no reaction either, and Wade swallowed, reaching out for the device wrapped around his neck.

Logan flinched back when he did, shaking his head sluggishly, "no, no more, pl'se, no," and Logan sobbed, trying to curl up but hissing in pain when he moved.

"Peanut-"

The brunette tried to get up, but quickly came crashing back down when his legs instantly buckled.

"Logan, it's me, yeah? It's Wade," he assured, and he watched as Logan stilled, trying to focus in on his face, those big wet eyes filling up again.

He let out an awful, pained sound, and grabbed onto his arm so tightly it hurt.

"M...'m dead? I- want Wade," he cried harder, and Wade frowned.

"No baby, I'm here. You're alive, you're okay. I got you out. I'm here," he promised, squeezing Logan's hand in his own.

"Stop! S-stop! N-not real, not..." Logan choked, gagging out blood onto the carpet, and all Wade could do was whisper an apology before grabbing the collar and pulling Logan up enough to reach the back to open it, all while Logan screamed and thrashed and tried to fight him.

The collar popped off with a click, and Wade shoved it aside, shushing Logan softly with a hand stroking through his greasy hair.

To his relief, Logan started healing fairly quickly, his wounds closing themselves up and the bruises fading from where they'd once painted his skin unforgiving shades of blue and purple.

"You're alright, everything is okay. I'm here," Wade continued to assure quietly, and Logan's screaming tapered down into simmering sobs, ripping out of his chest just as brutally.

"'M, 'm sorry," he hiccuped, still clinging onto him for dear life, and Wade shook his head, still playing with his hair.

"No, nono, no baby. No 'sorry', you didn't do anything wrong," Wade said, but Logan thrashed, getting more distressed.

"Ru'n everythin' I touch. Messed up you're l-life, 'm not... shouldn't be here," Logan cried, trying to move away, but Wade stopped him, staring down at him.

"Is that really what you think?"

How could Logan even start to believe that? How could he think for a single second that he was impacting negatively whatsoever on Wade's life? He was Wade's life, could the idiot really not see that?

"Logan, look at me right the fuck now."

Logan hesitantly looked in his direction, "i- I shouldn't be here. You- you had a life, a future," he said, and Wade could tell this wasn't just something that had came to him in that moment. The way Logan spoke, the utter pain laced through the words like poison, this was something that had been eating away at him for a while.

God, Wade wanted to scream. He wanted to grab the dumbass and shake some actual sense into him, because seriously?

"There isn't anywhere else I'd let you be, peanut. You could hop fifty universes over and I'd march into the TVA and kill any fucker who tells me I'm not allowed to follow. You're stuck with me, get it? You're my present, and my future, and I'm not letting you dip out of that," Wade promised, because it was exactly that. A promise. Logan wasn't going anywhere without him following behind. Wade would make sure of it, no matter who he'd have to kill or worlds he'd have to eradicate in the process. It was all just pointless collateral to Wade, if it meant staying beside Logan.

Logan was looking at him with something akin to awe, bright eyes shining through the layers of blood and dirt smeared over his face, like he couldn't fathom that Wade would choose him to mean so much.

It was sweet, and yet made him want to rip his own heart out at the same time, to know that Logan thought so ridiculously little of himself. For him to think that, even after the months they've had together, that Wade could ever be so quick to discard him.

That was partly his fault. He knew that. He hadn't exactly showed a willingness to fight for... this when he was sleeping with Vanessa.

"Wade you... you're good. You're too good and you deserve someone who's not completely fucked up," Logan sat up a little, a bitter laugh erupting from his chest, "fuck, I couldn't even... I couldn't even get through sex without fucking breaking down, and it's not fair on you to carry that burden-"

Wade couldn't listen to Logan's self deprivation any longer, and leaned in to kiss him hard, one hand moving to cup the back of his head.

"Shut up," he said when the kiss broke momentarily, both of them panting inches away from each other, "shut the fuck up, alright? You are not a fucking burden to carry, and besides - you really think I'm good? You really think I'm a walk in the park? I kill people on the regular just for the crime of pissing me off. I never stop fucking talking. It's takes me six to twelve buisness weeks to process an emotion, and I'm a terrible friend-"

"Wade stop it," Logan begged, voice tight, hand on his thigh.

"No, you're not the only one with flaws here, baby. I could write you a whole book of mine, get you to sign it like a fucking contract," wasn't a bad idea, actually - having Logan legally binded to him just a little, "the point is," he kissed Logan's jaw, splayed his fingers over his neck, dug in his nails just a little, just enough to make the brunette whimper into his mouth, "I fucking love the shit out of you, Lo. You don't have to say it back. That's not what this is, alright? I just need you to know."

Logan broke their almost embrace to sit back, staring at him. Wade couldn't breathe for a second, waiting for the impending rejection.

Instead, he was met with three hundred pounds of adamantium skeleton atop of him, Logan's arms wrapping tight enough to hurt around his waist, his face buried away in Wade's neck which was rapidly growing wet with tears.

"I- I love you too," came a shaky whisper, and Wade just might of air punched in celebration if he was capable of moving at the present moment.

He leaned down to drop a kiss to Logan's hair, nuzzling his face into it. Logan practically purred, lifting his head up enough to kiss him, tongue slipping in without inhibition, and Wade moaned against his mouth, running his hands all over, knowing he'd probably need it after so long.

He was proven right by the way Logan's body went limp and heavy, soft noises escaping his throat as he plastered himself against Wade.

They lay like that for a while, on the blood stained rug, sharing lazy but desperate kisses, all while Wade touched Logan as much as he possibly could, reclaiming every inch of skin as his own, until he almost forgot where one part of himself ended and Logan started.

Logan mewled, bucking his hips down, and Wade kissed his cheek tenderly, "soon, big guy. Let's shower and get you something to eat first, kay? Let me take care of you, then I'll fuck you so hard you pass out. Pinky promise," Wade hummed, and Logan murmured his agreement, letting Wade help him up off the floor.

A few hours later when, true to his word, Wade had quite literally washed him, scrubbing his scalp clean with gentle fingers, made him his favourite meal despite his hatred of cooking, and then fucked him so good Logan did genuinely pass out briefly at his climax, they were laid out in bed together, tangled together loosely.

Wade was playing with his hair. Logan was leaving trails of peppered kisses over Wade's chest.

And Logan thought, for the first time with a clear brain, the voices gone, that Wade would never have to follow him across fifty universes, because Logan would rather gouge his own body apart than be more than fifty feet away from him ever again.

[greengoblinswifey]

Hope— Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader

summary— you and Nicholas Chavez were deeply in love during high school, but he broke up with you to pursue his acting dreams in LA, promising to come back for you. after years of lost contact and watching him achieve fame, you held on to his promise but when you reconnect, it doesn’t go how you hoped.

warnings— mentions of sex, heartbreak, rejection, angst.

a/n— requests are wide open like my legs for nicholas <3

When Nicholas first told you he’d been cast in General Hospital, the pride in his voice was unmistakable. “I’m finally doing it,” he’d said, eyes bright with excitement. “I’m really going to be on TV, and I want you to be proud of me. This is everything we dreamed about.”

You had hugged him tightly, trying to ignore the growing ache in your heart. “I am proud of you,” you murmured. “You know that.”

But the day he left, he’d pulled you into one last embrace, whispering, “This isn’t goodbye, okay? When you’re done with college, I’ll come back, or maybe we’ll find each other along the way. I just- I don’t want to hold you back. If you love someone, you have to let them be free.”

Your heart had broken in a thousand pieces that day, but you nodded, trying to be strong. “I’d wait forever if it meant we’d end up together, you know that?”

You watched him rise to fame from afar, earning new roles in Netflix shows, your heart swelling with pride each time he’d land a new one, even while missing him was a constant ache.

You moved to Los Angeles after college to live with your sister, a film producer, hoping maybe fate had plans for you and Nicholas to cross paths again. Memories flooded back, late nights spent tangled up in each other's arms, your first nervous kiss under the stars, and promises you’d whispered about the future you’d planned together.

Now, years later in LA, you could hardly believe it when you saw his message pop up on your phone. “Hey, it’s been a while., I miss you.” And then, the message you’d been hoping for, “Wait, you’re in LA too? Let me take you out to dinner.”

When you finally met up, it was as if no time had passed. He hugged you tightly, his familiar scent bringing back a rush of memories. “You’re really here,” he said softly, looking at you like he couldn’t believe it.

You laughed, trying to hold back tears. “Of course I’m here. Did you think I’d forget about you?”

He shook his head, his hand finding yours. “I hoped you wouldn’t. You know, every role, every award, I kept wishing I could share it all with you.”

As he drove you to his mansion, you couldn’t help but marvel at the life he’d built for himself. “I can’t believe this is yours,” you said, glancing around at the luxury surrounding you. “You really made it.”

He smiled, that charming grin you remembered so well. “All those late nights paid off. But you know what? None of this means anything without you.” Your heart fluttered at his words.

That night was incredible. The two of you slipped back into the rhythm of amazing sex as if no time had passed, and you reveled in the warmth of being together again. But after the passion faded, something felt off. He didn’t cuddle you and clean you up like he used to. Instead, he said, “I’ll call you an Uber. I’ve got an early call time.”

Your heart sank. “You’re not gonna make me stay?”

“Not tonight. I really have to be up early.” Reluctantly, you gathered your things and left, confusion swirling in your mind. As you sat in the back of the Uber, that strange feeling gnawed at you, but you tried to shake it off.

Days passed without a word from him. “Maybe he’s just busy,” you told yourself, but deep down, you felt your heart shatter all over again.

Then came the day your sister invited you to the set of her new film. Eager to see her in action, you put on a brave face and headed to the studio. As you walked around the set, a familiar laugh caught your attention, and you turned to see Nicholas. Your heart leapt, but just as quickly, it plummeted when you saw him passionately making out with a girl, his hands all over her in the same way he’d touched you just nights before.

The sight felt like a dagger to your heart. Anger and sadness surged through you, but walked over to confront him after the girl left.

“Nicholas!” you shouted, breathless with rage and heartbreak.

He turned, looking startled. “Hey! I—”

“Save it. What was that?” You pointed at the spot where he’d just been. “You ghost me, and then I see you making out with some girl?”

He ran a hand through his hair, clearly flustered. “I’m sorry. We broke up for a couple of hours. I was sad and lonely. I was going to text you, but it just, it didn’t feel right.”

“Didn’t feel right?” You shook your head in disbelief. “I loved you, Nicholas. I waited for you, and then you just use me and move on?”

He stepped closer, desperation in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I really wanted to reach out. It’s just, things got complicated.”

“Complicated?” you echoed, voice rising. “You think it’s complicated for me? I loved you for years, and I gave you everything! You used me and discarded me!”

He sighed, looking genuinely regretful. “I know I messed up. I just didn’t want to drag you into my mess.”

“Too late for that.” You turned away, fighting back tears.

The pain of watching him walk away was like a weight pressing down on your chest. You had thought this time would be different, but it felt like the end of the line all over again.

That night, your phone buzzed with a message from Nicholas. Your heart raced, but as you opened it, anger surged through you. “Hey, I’m really sorry about earlier. I’ve been seeing someone since I got to LA, and I didn’t mean for things to get complicated.”

You stared at the screen, disbelief and rage colliding within you. “Complicated?” you typed back, your fingers shaking. “You think this is complicated for you? You just used me, Nicholas. You broke my heart and then moved on like I was nothing.”

His reply was quick. “I never meant to hurt you. You have to understand, this is all new to me. The fame, the attention.”

“So, what? You just replace me with someone else? I turned down so many guys for YOU. I waited for you.” The hurt in your voice echoed in your mind as you pressed send.

“I thought we could pick up where we left off. I didn’t mean to lead you on.” His words felt like daggers.

“You didn’t lead me on? You fucked me, sent me home then ghosted me! I loved you for years, and you just tossed that aside?” Your heart raced as you read his response.

“I didn’t know how to handle it! I thought you’d moved on too,” he replied, sounding desperate now.

“You fucking idiot I didn’t, and if I did I wouldn’t have fucked you. I thought we had something real. But clearly, it wasn’t the same for you.” You felt tears welling up as the pain of betrayal washed over you.

“It was real for me, too. I just got scared.”

“Scared? Scared of what? Being with me? You’ve built a whole new life, and I’m just some girl from your past?” The hurt in your words made your chest ache.

There was a long pause before he replied. “You’re more than that. You always will be. But I can’t change what I’ve done.”

“Then don’t contact me again,” you typed, your heart breaking as you hit send.

“Wait, please don’t say that Y/N.”

But you didn’t reply. You tossed your phone aside, burying your face in your hands as the reality of the situation crashed over you. How could you have been so blind? He was living a dream, while you were left with hope.

You felt lost and unsure of how to move on, but you knew you had to. “I’m done with this,” you whispered to yourself, wiping away the tears. “l’ll move on. I will be okay.” It would take time, but you were determined to reclaim your heart, even if it felt impossible right now.

As the weeks passed, you focused on picking up the pieces of your heart, throwing yourself into your role as your sister’s assistant on set. Every day, you watched Nicholas interact with his new girlfriend, a co-star in the movie. They laughed, kissed, and shared intimate moments, and it took everything in you to maintain a brave face. Inside, your heart ached with memories of what you once shared with him.

On a particularly tough day, you overheard Nicholas talking to his girlfriend in the trailer, laughing at a joke you had once told him. You turned away, willing yourself not to cry. “I’m not going to let him see me sad,” you whispered under your breath, reminding yourself of how far you had come.

Despite the lingering feelings, you knew deep down that he wasn’t your one. Yes, he was your first love, your first everything, and the promises you made felt real, but it was time to let go. Eventually, you met someone amazing, a man who understood you and made you feel cherished in ways you never thought possible. When he proposed, it felt like the culmination of everything you had dreamed of, and you said yes without hesitation.

The day you announced your engagement on Instagram was one of the happiest of your life. You couldn't help but smile as you posted a picture of your ring, the caption reading, “Forever starts now.”

But then, the unexpected happened. Nicholas saw your post and immediately sent it to you and replied, “Can we meet for coffee? I need to talk to you.”

You hesitated, anger and hurt mixing with the memories of the past. “There’s nothing to talk about, Nicholas. If you have something to say, text it.”

He was quick to respond. “I’m so sorry. You’re my one. I wish I had waited for you. I miss you. No one compares.”

You laughed bitterly, shaking your head in disbelief. “It’s too late for that. I’m getting married. You had your chance, and I’ll never give you the opportunity to hurt me again.”

You felt a surge of empowerment as you hit send, but a small part of you felt a twinge of sadness for what could have been. With that, he responded but you ghosted him, just like he had ghosted you before, leaving him to reflect on what he lost.

A few months later, news broke that Nicholas and his girlfriend had split. You were blissfully happy in your marriage, surrounded by love and support from your husband and family. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief that you had moved on and found your true happiness.

As you looked back at the heartache of your past, you felt gratitude for the lessons learned. You had finally moved on, and this time, it felt right.

[writtenwhalien]

a lover's redemption | chapter 3

chapter 3. the new normal

pairing ↠ mafia leader!park jimin x reader

genre ↠ mafia AU — romance/action (angst, fluff, smut)

summary ↠ Blood, business and betrayal is all that Park Jimin has ever known, but when you cross paths again, the stakes are raised even higher and he finds himself battling his conscience, and his heart.

word count ↠ 13.3k

18+ | warnings ↠ drinking, explicit sexual content, violence, all sorts of crime (please see the series masterlist for a complete list of warnings).

taglist is open – dm/comment/send an ask to be added <3

notes ↠ please enjoy and shareeeee xxoxoxox and pls share your thoughts w me as we get into it ;) also in case its not clear, jimin's birth year in the fic is 1995, same as real life, and Y/N is 2 years younger than him. I always put the year for any flashbacks so you can work out how old they are :) any confusion, please let me know (i might make a mistake!) thanks angels! <3

17th July 2009

The heavy scent of cigar smoke lingered in the room, curling around the dark oak furniture. Jimin sat quietly beside his father, his small legs barely brushing the floor. Across from them, Lee Han-Jae exhaled a long puff of his cigar, looking tired.

“They confirmed the crash?” Jihoon asked, his tone devoid of warmth.

Jimin did not know what accident his uncle and father had planned but he knew that his father had been on edge all day because of it.

Han-Jae nodded. “Mostly. But he's gone.” He downed what was left of his drink. “Did we take care of the family?”

Jihoon swirls his glass. “We’ll let them go, they have no one.”

“Except Kija and Min-Baek-hyun,” Han-jae counters.

“They mean nothing to us.”

“But they were loyal to Sehun.”

Upon hearing this, Jimin went still, realising what’s happened. 

“Their loyalty was not just to Sehun but the entire Han family. They will protect them at all costs and they’ve been in this long enough to know not to retaliate if they want to keep themselves safe.”

Han-Jae said nothing else of the matter but his face did little to mask his disapproval. He took another puff of his cigar before he spoke again. “The other two men survived. Escaped before the flames could finish the job. They’re digging through the wreckage, but the police are sniffing around."It seems dental records are proving... inconvenient.”

Jihoon’s eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching. “Inconvenient?” he echoed. “The detectives are a problem?”

Han-Jae waved a dismissive hand. “Nothing we can’t handle.”

“Funny,” Jihoon said, leaning forward slightly. “You said the same thing about the last case they opened. And now I hear whispers about them building something bigger — trafficking charges. Another detective’s on the case, isn’t he?” His tone sharpened. “You’ve been careless, Han-Jae.”

The room tensed, the air thick with unsaid threats. Han-Jae stiffened, his smirk faltering for the briefest moment. “Watch your tongue, Jihoon.”

Jihoon’s lip curled. “You’ve been playing dirty, using our resources to fund your side business."

Han-Jae remained indifferent. "You'll be asking for a share soon. All the pieces are almost complete and this detective is nothing more than a bump in the road. I'll deal with it."

"That's besides the point. I trusted you and you're acting foolishly."

"Foolishly?"

"Is it not?" Jihoon asked, patronising.

Jimin watched as Han-Jae got up wordlessly and walked over to his cabinet. He picked up the decanter and generously poured himself some whiskey.

“I’ve given you more than enough leash,” Jihoon continued, his voice rising. “But if you think I’ll let you drag my name down with yours, think again.”

Han-Jae emptied his glass before he turned, his face a mask of fury. “We’ll talk about this later,” he spat. “We have somewhere to be.”

Jihoon didn’t bother responding. Instead, he turned his attention to Jimin, his gaze cold and commanding. “Get a gun.”

Jimin froze, his blood turning to ice. His lips parted, but no sound came out.

“Now,” Jihoon snapped, his tone sharp enough to cut. "Then meet me by the car."

Jihoon left the room and Jimin followed, his legs moving before his mind could catch up. He went towards the basement, down the stairs and past the training floor, all the way to the locked room at the back. Some of his father's men watched as he walked, but none said a word. Hands trembling, he pressed his thumb to the scanner and waited for the door to unlock, revealing an entire array of weapons lining the walls.

Jimin didn't think. He picked up the first handgun he saw, checked it was loaded and then walked out with the cold metal feeling alien in his grasp, the weight far heavier than he anticipated.

Without realising it, his feet carried him to the kitchen, where his mother stood slicing vegetables. She turned at the sound of his shaky breathing, her eyes immediately softening when she saw the gun in his hands.

“Jimin,” she whispered, crossing the room in an instant. She crouched down in front of him, pulling him into a gentle hug. The faint scent of lavender filled his nose, momentarily drowning out the suffocating reality around him.

“I can’t,” he mumbled against her shoulder. “I can’t do it.”

His mother’s embrace tightened. “I never wanted this for you, Jimin,” she murmured, her voice thick with regret. “I’m so sorry.” She pulled back, brushing his hair from his face with trembling fingers. “But this is your life now. Your father won’t wait. If you don’t go back, he’ll only get angrier.”

Jimin shook his head. “Why do you let him—” His voice broke off and a single tear rolled down his cheek.

"I'm so sorry." Her face crumpled, but she quickly composed herself and closed his fingers around the gun. “You have to go now, before he comes looking for you.”

Reluctantly, he nodded, his small frame trembling as she kissed his forehead and guided him toward the door.

The container yard smelled of damp concrete and iron, the air thick and stifling. As Jimin stepped out of the car, he immediately spotted Kwan and Duri ahead of them. 

Jihoon and Han-Jae walked ahead while Taemin and Jimin followed behind. As they went further into the yard, around a dark corner, Jimin glanced at Taemin, hoping for some kind of answer. Taemin, barely older than Jimin, gave a reassuring smile of sorts when Jimin glanced his way, but it did little to make him feel better. Jimin figured he knew where they were going since he and his dad spoke often.

Duri pulled the heavy door of one of the containers open as they approached and both fathers stopped short outside of the container. Han-Jae laughed mirthlessly and they both stepped aside for Jimin and Taemin to see.

Two detectives knelt on the floor, their faces bloodied and swollen, their hands tied tightly behind their backs.

Suddenly, the dead weight of the gun in his hand felt heavy again.

Jihoon glanced over his shoulder. “Stay here,” he ordered both boys.

Taemin, barely older than Jimin, gave a solemn nod but said nothing.

Jihoon stepped into the container, and crouched in front of one of the detectives, his voice low but menacing. “I warned you to stay out of my business. But now, you’re here. What do you have to say for yourself?”

The detective spat at Jihoon’s feet, earning himself a sharp backhand. Jihoon stood, motioning to Jimin. “Come here.”

Jimin hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Now, Jimin."

Taemin looked between them and gently nudged Jimin forward. "Go on," he whispered.

Reluctantly, Jimin got closer, his eyes glued to the ground.

"This man is a threat to us,” Jihoon said, calmly. “End him.”

Jimin’s breath hitched. “I-I can’t—”

Jihoon’s hand lashed out, striking him hard enough to send him stumbling. “You’re weak,” he snarled, stepping close to Jimin and speaking low in his ear. “Your mother’s made you soft.”

Jimin’s head snapped up and he ignored the harsh stinging sensation on his cheek. “Is that why you always send her away?” he asked, teeth gritted. “To keep her away from me?”

Jihoon froze, his face darkening. For a moment, Jimin thought he might strike him again. But instead, Jihoon looked right at Jimin and spoke, his voice icy. “She chooses to leave. Every time she walks out that door, it’s her choice. And it’s time you grew up and realised that.”

Jimin’s grip on the gun tightened, his knuckles white. He didn't look at the man before him but raised his arm, finger closing around the trigger. "You're right," Jimin said, voice low. "It is time I grew up."

The gunshot echoed through the warehouse, the sound ringing in Jimin’s ears long after the man’s body hit the floor.

Jihoon’s voice cut through the haze. “Finally.”

But Jimin didn’t hear him. All he could see was the blood, pooling and spreading across the cold concrete. All he could feel was the weight of his father’s shadow, pressing down on him, suffocating him.

Jihoon glanced at Han-Jae, his lip curling in irritation. “You deal with the other one.”

Han-Jae smiled thinly, his hand settling on Taemin’s shoulder. “Go on, son.”

Taemin hesitated, his youthful face pale under the dim light of the yard's lights. He glanced at Jimin, whose expression was frozen in a mix of horror and detachment, and then back at his father.

Han-Jae’s smile faded. “Do you want to disappoint me?”

The weight of that question hung heavy in the air, and Taemin swallowed hard, but slowly, he stepped forward.

The second detective, bloodied and trembling, began to plead incoherently, his words dissolving into a sob.

Jimin’s stomach churned violently. He couldn’t bear to watch as Taemin raised the gun with far steadier hands than his own, nor could he endure the suffocating tension of the warehouse any longer. His voice was hoarse as he muttered, “I’m going to the car.”

Jihoon turned his head slightly but didn’t object. “Fine. Go.”

The indifference in his father’s voice stung more than any reprimand. Jimin moved toward the exit, his legs unsteady but quickening with each step.

The sound of the gunshot rang out just as he stepped out of the container, the echo chasing him into the night.

The air outside was still warm despite it being well past midnight. Jimin usually loved late summer nights like this but not today. As he walked around the bend, he felt more hot, and the humidity worsened the thick, suffocating tension inside.

He made it only a few steps further before his stomach betrayed him. Rushing over towards a stack of crates, he retched violently. The contents of his dinner surged upwards and all Jimin could hope was that he was far away enough from his dad.

His throat burned, and his body trembled as he leaned a hand against the cold metal for support.

When the heaving subsided, the silence around him felt deafening. His mind was a storm of guilt and revulsion. He could still see the detective’s lifeless eyes in his mind, and worse, as he still held the gun now, he kept imagining his finger was still around the trigger.

“This is your life now,” his mother’s voice echoed in his head, her words a hollow comfort against the growing ache in his chest.

His throat tightened, and for a brief moment, he felt the urge to cry. But the tears didn’t come. They couldn’t — not here, not now. He took a deep breath, forcing air into his lungs until the sharpness of it dulled his emotions. He repeated the motion over and over, steadying himself, quieting the chaos within.

Jimin wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve and straightened up. His legs felt heavier than before as he trudged toward the car, but by the time he reached it, his breaths had evened out, and his face was expressionless once more.

Sliding into the back seat, he leaned his head against the window and the chill of the glass grounded him.

As he sat there in silence, the weight of his actions settled like stones in his chest, and he knew this wouldn't be the last time.

Present day

It takes you a while to come to your senses, your fuzzy mind drifting in and out of sleep, telling yourself that you’re dreaming every time your eyes half open to see the surroundings of a room which isn’t yours. Your head sinks back into the feather filled pillow, your breathing is slow and steady and you remain completely still as you wait to wake up in your own bed, in your own home.

But it doesn’t happen. 

As you start to focus on the feeling of your chest rising and falling with each breath, your eyes flutter open fully and everything comes rushing back to you. Seojun lying helplessly on your kitchen floor, Minjun and the men flooding your kitchen, Dani and Siho dying to protect you. And Jimin.

The thought of it all hurts your head, and you push the thoughts down, focusing on something else for now. You have many questions and you’ll make sure to get answers, but right now, one thing you’re sure of, is that you’re safe. 

Looking around the room you’re in, you faintly recognise the large wooden doors and particular coving style on the walls. You spent more than a few days running around the halls of this estate, hiding and playing in the rooms belonging to the boy you were once friends with — now the man who saved your life…

It hasn’t escaped you, that had Jimin and his men not walked in when they did, Minjun would’ve killed you after he got whatever information he needed from you. 

You’ve never forgotten him, and now it seems like an odd sort of fate that you’ve ended up entangled in some kind of mess with him, thanks to Seojun. 

There’s definitely something going on, because there must’ve been a reason why Seojun was in your house, why he spent those late evenings at the cafe just trying to have a conversation with you. 

Looking next to you on the nightstand, you see your phone and purse, as well as a few of the other items you had in your pocket and your first thought is to call Yoongi. Whatever’s going on, you need to tell him and he might know something too. 

There’s also a small bowl of fresh fruit on the nightstand and a bottle of water — a small reminder that you’re safe here. 

As you reach for your phone, you feel a mild throbbing pain in your wrist. You almost forgot that Minjun cut you, but the wound is neatly bandaged now. Pushing the sheets back, you look down at your thigh to see it’s also been bandaged and you’re almost certain you’ll find stitches under there. You’re also wearing clothes that aren’t yours — a loose tee and baggy basketball shorts. You don’t remember anything since falling unconscious but you’re sure one of the housemaids must’ve dressed you.

Reaching for your phone again, you expect to see a call from your grandma since she normally calls you every morning, but your home screen shows no notifications except the many security camera notifications which you’re sure must show the events that took place at your home – you might be able to use it to identify a few of the men who were there, Yoongi certainly would be able to help you with that. 

Unlocking your phone, you open up your contacts and scroll through to find Yoongi’s name. Just before you can press call, there’s a knock at the door. Pausing, you look up and a few seconds later, the handle turns slowly. 

A slim man enters the room, dressed sharply head to toe in a suit… Your eyes widen, and suddenly, everything makes sense.

“Yoongi.” 

He smiles, though somewhat apologetically.”Y/N.” Walking over to your bed, he doesn’t hesitate to pull up the chair that sits in front of the dressing table and bring it beside your bed. While your thoughts race, Yoongi sits quietly and waits.

He’s been working for Jimin, of course he has – his dad was close with yours and Jimin, and after your father’s death, his dad, Min Baek-hyun, stayed close with your grandparents and still resides close to your grandma in Namwon, while Yoongi stayed in Seoul. All these years, you’ve stayed close friends with Yoongi, not knowing he was so close with Jimin too – someone you once considered a best friend.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” you ask finally.

“I didn’t want to complicate things,” he murmurs, looking up. As soon as you meet his gaze, you know what he means by that… 

You still remember that night, a few months ago, when Yoongi asked you to take out the Cheong men at the warehouse holding the drugs. For the first time, you asked for something in return – for him to help you find who killed your dad. It was the fact that he looked away as soon as you said the words that told you he already knew. 

 “I need something in return.”

Yoongi lifted his head calmly. “Is everything okay?”

You nodded, placing the key down on the table. “Just, promise me you’ll do it first.”

At this, Yoongi’s expression changed to one of concern and he hesitated. 

Meeting his gaze, you said his name. “Please.”

“Alright.” Yoongi shifted, keeping his eyes on you. “I promise.”

There was a moment of silence as you mulled the words over in your head. It had been on your mind for a while, something you’d been considering often for the last few months, since you passed what would’ve been your father’s fifty fifth birthday. Not a day had gone by that you didn't miss him, and you’d known since his death that the last place he was called to, wasn’t a timely coincidence. You may have only been 12 at the time of his death, but your father always taught you to be aware of everything, and you’d noticed the tension between him and his friends for months before that night. Even the fact that you hadn’t seen Jimin in years, and the way Jihoon always disregarded your presence – that is before your father limited their visits to your family home. He was trying to protect you from them.

“I want to know who killed my dad.” 

The words felt strange on your tongue – though your dad’s murder wasn’t a secret to you, you didn’t often speak about it so forwardly, especially not to Yoongi. 

Concern returned to the lines in his face, brows furrowing as he shook his head and reached for your hand. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

You moved your hand from the table before he could hold it. “You know.”

He paused, eyes flitting down to where your hand was. Releasing a slow sigh, he closed his eyes. “And I think you already know.”

The anger and frustration you’d been holding on to for years began to surface.“It was them, wasn’t it?”

Yoongi looked up. “Y/N–”

“Lee Han-jae? And Park Jihoon?”

Yoongi gave the smallest of nods, and your fist curled in your lap. 

“Do you know why?”

“Y/N, please, don’t–”

“You promised, Yoongi.”

Meeting your gaze, Yoongi sighed. “Alright, I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

“Everything.”

So he did…

Na Doyun was a corrupt prosecutor who worked for the Lee’s, keeping them out of trouble as long as they paid her well enough. It was the perfect deal until some of the DA became suspicious of Doyun’s intentions and motivations, and she panicked, demanding more money, as well as a way for her to launder all the funds she was receiving. 

The Lee’s had no choice but to comply since she had enough dirt on them to put them away for life, (as well as a supposed contingency plan that would expose them should they try anything to harm her), and so Han-jae developed a nightclub under his name and added Doyun as a majority shareholder, as well as a few others under his influence. It became one of the most popular nightclubs in all of Seoul and the perfect place for any illicit activity,

“The one that closed down months ago?” you asked, vaguely remembering. You were sure you'd followed more than a few unsuspecting victims of Yoongi’s from there on one of your errands for him..

“Yes. They have a few all over Seoul but none as big as that one. And you remember Taemin?”

“Lee’s son?”

“Yes.”

You barely saw Lee Taemin growing up. Though he was close in age to Jimin and you, his father had sent him to school in the United States. There were a few occasions where you were there together but unlike Jimin, he barely spared you more than a glance. 

“Closing the club was intentional on their part. Han-jae wanted Taemin to replace it with something much bigger and better.”

“The Benitoite.”

Yoongi nodded. “A clever move on his part. The nightclub was becoming a hot spot and that was risky for them. After years of illegal trading, predatory lending and more, they had to find a way to get rid of any liabilities who used to frequent the club for their own gain, and with the Benitoite, they got the DA off their backs while attracting a whole new world, as well as another way to make their money clean again.” Looking up, Yoongi carried on. “Once that was done, Doyun had nothing left to hold over them.”

“They killed her?”

Another nod.

Your hand tightened around the fob. You couldn’t say you felt bad for the woman, she was corrupt after all and served men doing worse than herself, but it still didn’t make any of this easier to hear.

Yoongi sighed, his hand moving towards yours. “You okay?”

“Fine. Tell me.”

“When that nightclub before the Benitoite first opened, your dad wasn’t opposed to it so he never said anything. But, Jihoon or Han-jae weren’t just abiding by what Doyun wanted, they both saw an opportunity and wanted to run part of the nightclub as a secret brothel for invited guests only, those who would pay enough.”

Yoongi looked up apprehensively, but he saw your expression and continued.

“They knew anyone who knew of them, or had any kind of business with them, feared them, so they used that. If there was anyone who had done them wrong, or owed them money, they offered them a way out.  Hundreds and millions worth of debt in exchange for years of service, and they didn’t care who it was. 

“A mother, father, son, daughter, brother or sister. Any relation to the person who owed them was good enough and as you can imagine, none of the actual offenders offered themselves so it was all innocent family members being taken in. They would kidnap them and coerce them into working there doing whatever it was that needed to be done too. The whole thing was set up as a way for them to earn honest money to pay back whatever was owed.”

You looked up, repulsed. These are the men you once regarded as your uncles, seeing them as your dad’s friends you thought of them as family while growing up. It’s true that as you got older, you started to feel a certain way towards Jihoon because of how cold he was, especially with Jimin, but this was still beyond anything you would’ve expected of them.

“So that’s why they killed my dad?” 

Yoongi shook his head. “Not exactly.” Pausing, he studied your expression for a few seconds before he leaned over the table to grasp your hand. After a gentle squeeze, he let go. “There was a lot happening around that time, I don’t know the details but the way Han-jae and Jihoon saw it, is that your dad became soft. When he first found out about the nightclub he was angry and threatened both of them.”

Your stomach curled.

“They wanted to appease him so they said they would reconsider.”

“But they didn’t.”

“No. And truthfully I don’t think your dad ever believed them anyway.”

It went quiet, the distant humming of car engines along a nearby busy road carried the sound of your thoughts as they ran endlessly. 

Yoongi took another sip of his milk, watching you carefully. “Y/N,” he spoke softly. “I can tell you the rest another time.”

You looked across at home, taking a slow breath. You do feel like you’ve heard enough, but you need to know. “What more is there? They killed him after that, no?”

Traces of a grimace appeared on Yoongi’s face. “Not quite.” He paused, waiting. 

Wordlessly, you nodded for him to continue. 

“Did you know Han-jae was married twice?”

Nodding, you remembered his step-daughter, Jiyoung. She looked after you occasionally, but like Taemin, she wasn’t always there. “Yeah, his first wife passed away but Jiyoung was from her, right?”

“Not exactly, Jiyoung wasn’t Han-jae’s daughter.” 

Now, this was news to you. 

“And her mom wasn’t a huge fan of Han-jae, their marriage was arranged after her first husband died, and she had plenty of reasons to dislike the man and he felt the same, except she always threatened to expose him.” 

The arranged marriage wasn’t a surprise to you, as it was common amongst many of your father’s affluent friends, including your own parents, but you hadn’t known that Han-jae’s first wife despised him. 

“After she died, Jiyoung got older, she looked more like her mother, acted more like her, and Han-jae didn’t like her just as much as she didn’t like him, so…  he saw an opportunity to get rid of her.”

Eyes widening, you asked, “The nightclub?”

Yoongi nodded, looking down. “But your dad saved her.”

Despite the warm evening breeze, you feel your skin go cold.

Yoongi continues. “He knew something was going on and he happened to be there the night she was being taken. He killed the men and took her away to a safe place, out of the country.”

And just like that, it all made sense. “So that’s why they killed him.”

Taking your hand again, Yoongi nodded silently. “It was a means to an end for them,” he murmured. “Han-jae and Jihoon had changed. They weren’t who your dad befriended and their morals and ambitions were far from the same.”

Yoongi’s words were said to comfort you, but they only fueled your anger… your dad’s closest friends, the men who he regarded as brothers, were the ones who killed him.

That conversation felt like a lifetime ago, and as you see Yoongi sitting in front of you now, you understand why he chose not to tell you, but you can’t help but feel a tiny bit betrayed.

“Still could’ve told me,” you mumble, looking away from him.

“Would it have made a difference to anything?” he asks, leaning forward with a playful smile. 

Realising he’s right, you frown indignantly. “Might’ve stopped this,” you say, knowing it’s a weak point.

Yoongi’s expression darkens. Shaking his head slowly, he meets your gaze. “Nothing could’ve stopped this.”

Seojun is the first person that comes to your mind, and you feel your stomach coil. 

Reaching to hold your leg over the covers, Yoongi says your name. “You need to tell me everything you know.”

Nodding, you push the mental image of Seojun out of your mind. “I don’t actually know much,” you start, “Seojun had been coming into the cafe around once a week and would talk to me, just small talk. He must’ve known who I was but I didn’t realise until the last time. He seemed worried about something and kept asking me about grandma, and when she called, he’d left and there was a note on the table.” Looking towards the night stand where your belongings are, you see the note you pocketed then, and the drive is there too. You take them both, handing the note to Yoongi.  “This is what it said.” 

Yoongi takes a few seconds to read the simple words, She’s the only family you have left. You should stay with her. Frowning, Yoongi lowers it to the bed. “He must’ve known, but I don’t know how.” Looking up, he asks, “you never told him anything about your grandma?” 

“No,” you shake your head. “He just knew.” Thinking of this, you suddenly remember all those conversations you had with Seojun… he had a girlfriend. “Yoongi?” You meet his gaze with worried eyes. “He had a girlfriend.”

Yoongi’s expression softens, lips pursing. “Yeona. She knows. She lives here with us, she moved in with Seojun a year ago.”

Nodding your head slowly, you look away. You don’t bother asking how she’s doing, that would be a pointless question – you could tell how much Seojun loved her and from the stories he told you, you’re certain she loved him just as much, she must be heartbroken. The thought of it reminds you of the night your dad passed away… you’d never seen your mom in so much pain. 

As your emotions begin to swirl heavily again, you look up at Yoongi. “Did he not say anything at all about what he’d been doing?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “We knew he was up to something, but Jimin told us to let him be.” Again, Yoongi’s expression looks pained. 

“Why?”

“A few weeks back, Jimin had one of their clubs raided by the police on the same night they were receiving a weapons shipment and there’s since been a good few detectives on their case. Taemin’s uncle got some time in prison for it and even though he’s out, they still wanted to send a message to Jimin, a way to get back at him… so they killed Seojun’s mom.”  

The words wound the knot in your stomach even tighter. “So Seojun wanted to get back at them?”

Nodding, Yoongi shakes his head. “Jimin warned him not to, he promised they’d work it out together and end things for once, but Seojun was angry. Once we figured out he was up to something, Jimin told us to leave him and once Seojun had a plan, we’d join in on it.” Releasing a shaky breath, Yoongi looks down. “We never got to find out what it was, and each week we’d see him less and less. Everyone here knows how to look after themselves, but now I wish we’d taken more care.” 

Seojun was a friend to everyone here, Yoongi included, you realise. You know you ought to comfort him but you don’t think you know how. “I’m sorry, Yoongi,” you murmur. 

He gives a small smile. “Finish telling me what happened.”

Sitting back into the cushions again, you recall the events from that night. “I left work as normal, came home and when I went upstairs, something felt off. So I went back down, and then I saw him in my kitchen, he was bleeding, barely conscious on the floor and I ran over to him. I tried to help him but he kept apologising, and then he gave me this.” Looking down, you hand the drive to Yoongi.

Confused, Yoongi turns it over in his hand. “Did he say what’s on it?”

“No,” you shake your head. “And it’s probably protected too since the Lee’s wanted it as well. But he told me to take it and find Jimin.” At this, Yoongi looks up and meets your gaze. “He kept saying he’d keep me safe and that I should leave him and go.”

“But you didn’t.”

“I couldn’t. He needed help, but it was too late. When I was about to get out, Minjun and some of his men came in. Seojun tried to help me but in the end…” you trail off, looking down. “In the end it was Minjun questioning me, asking me who I am. I lied, of course.” You finish telling Yoongi the rest of what happened, up until when Jimin and his men came in. 

When you’re done, Yoongi is cursing under his breath. “Minjun was a fucking psychopath.”

“Yeah, he seems like it,.” You remember the way he laughed when Jimin was punching him. 

“He has a brother, Kwan, he’s just as crazy, if not worse.”

The thought of it leaves you shuddering. Minjun was ruthless and you can’t imagine how much worse his brother is. You hope you never have to meet him, although luck hasn’t really been on your side recently.

“Hey,” Yoongi says quietly, moving from his seat to the bed. “You okay?”

“Mhm,” you nod. 

He smiles softly. “Your wrist should be better in a few days, but your leg might take two or three weeks to heal well. I got you some crutches in case you wanna use them.” 

“Thanks, I probably won’t use them though.”

“Yeah, I thought you’d say that.”

Smiling at him, you push the sheets back to look at your bound leg. “It’s not deep is it?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “You got lucky. Only an inch or so. Ah, also,” he looks up at you apologetically, “you’ll need to stay here for a while until your house gets fixed.” 

“Oh.” You remember how the windows were smashed in as Minjun attacked, and you’re sure there’s more damage to the property that you’re not even aware of. 

“Jimin is making all the arrangements,” Yoongi continues, “but he’s trying to keep things quiet so I don’t know exactly when things will be sorted.”

“He doesn’t have to, I can do it myself.”

“He wants to,” Yoongi responds. “He blames himself for what’s happened, so just let him please.” His words appear to carry more meaning, and you can’t imagine how he must feel after seeing Seojun dead. You still remember the look on his face when he saw the body.

“Why?”

“He blames himself for a lot of things,” Yoongi murmurs with a soft sigh. “This hasn’t helped.”

Even though it’s been years since you were close with Jimin, you still find yourself feeling a familiar twinge in your chest – ever since you’ve known him, Jimin has had to suffer so much hurt, you couldn’t even count on your hand the amount of times you saw him looking so defeated and terrified in front of his father. He seemed to prefer the company of Lee Han-jae over his own father, although you don’t know how much better Han-jae was as a father since his son, Taemin, was in America most of the time to study. All you know is how he treated Jiyoung.

Now, curiosity (or care) gets the better of you, and you ask, “What happened between them? Han-jae and Jihoon?”

Yoongi looks up, grimacing. “It started with money. Han-jae got greedy and wanted the Benitoite to be only his, but Jihoon insisted it belong to them both since the nightclub was half his effort, though he never really cared for the extra money, he just needed the front. Han-jae reluctantly agreed but it was clear he wasn’t happy. 

“And then Jihoon found out that Han-jae planned on going behind his back and he got angry. Han-jae was drunk one night and started threatening Jihoon, which only made him more angry. But before he could do anything, Taemin stepped in and shot him.”

“Taemin?!” you ask, surprised..

Yoongi nods. “He knew of his dad's plan for the Benitoite and he wasn’t fond of Jihoon, so he did what he had to to protect his dad. But Jimin was there.” His expression darkens. “He watched his best friend shoot his dad, who was bleeding out in front of him. I’m so grateful we were with him that day…” He trails off, exhaling as he looks down.

He doesn’t need to say anymore for you to know what he means – Taemin was going to have Jimin killed too. 

Your head lowers too. You don’t allow your thoughts to wonder what would’ve happened if Jimin had been alone, you’re just glad he got out. Though you can’t imagine what he must’ve felt given his relationship with Jihoon.

“Did he get to have a funeral for his dad?”

“Yeah,’ Yoongi answers. “Han-jae had just lost another one of his friends and the blood was on his hands, so he sent the body back to Jimin and tried to make amends, but Jimin wasn’t having it. He was already against everything they were doing and now that his dad had gone and he’d lost Taemin as a friend, he had no reason to keep ties with them.”

Leaning back into the cushions, you mull over everything he’s just said. For years, you stayed away from these families who were such a big part of your life growing up, and now you learn that they’ve fallen apart as well. 

After a moment, Yoongi speaks again. “I was surprised when they brought you in.” You look up at him as he continues. “I thought he might’ve recognised you, but he said nothing.”

“Do you think he does?” you ask, remembering the look on his face when he first saw you. “But he’s just not saying it?”

Yoongi shrugs. “Might be. If he does remember you though, he’ll say something.”

“Are you going to tell them?” you ask, looking at him.

“Only if you want me to.”

After a few quiet seconds, you shake your head. “At least not yet.”

Yoongi nods and it goes quiet again. You close your eyes, leaning against the headboard as you think back on everything that’s happened, and then it comes to you.

“Dani and Siho,” you say, opening your eyes again as a heavy weight settles on your chest. “Did you get them out?”

Solemnly, Yoongi nods. “I sent them back to their families and have offered to make all the necessary arrangements for anything else they need.”

“Thank you,” you murmur. “Let me know what they say, I’ll sort it out for them..”

Yoongi nods again, pursing his lips as this time he reaches forward to take your hand and comfort you. “They knew the risks, Y/N,  better than anyone else.”

“I know,” you sigh. “But it’s different, they were there because of me.”

“Yeah, but they made that choice, they wanted to fight for you,” Yoongi says, shifting on the bed. When you look at him, he winces slightly. “Sorry if this isn’t helping, you know I’m shit at comforting people.”

You smile. “I know.”

“Hey, you’re not any better though,” he says defensively, “you didn’t even hug me properly when my mom passed away.”

“What?” you chuckle. “I tried to, but I know you don’t like hugs.”

Yoongi shrugs. “Not normally, but then I would've liked it.”

“Oh…” Now you feel bad. “Really?”

He nods, only looking up at you when you fail to respond. Seeing your face, he smiles. “It’s okay though, I got lots of hugs from the guys here.”

Scoffing, you absentmindedly pull the covers over your legs again, feeling cold from the aircon. “Yeah, you’re telling me Park Jimin was giving out hugs?” It comes out sarcastically and without much thought.

“Yes, actually,” Yoongi answers simply. 

Pausing, you realise what you said and his response. You don’t know why you feel surprised when the Jimin you knew was nothing but caring and considerate towards others, oftentimes more than he was towards himself. 

As though he can read your mind, Yoongi smiles. “Surprised?”

“Kind of.”

“You knew him though,” he says, as though that makes it so obvious.

“Knew,” you repeat. “I didn’t expect him to still be the same.”

Yoongi hums in agreement. “I wouldn’t say he’s changed, but I wouldn't exactly say he’s the same either…” looking up, he smiles again. “I guess you’ll get to see for yourself now.”

“I guess so,” you say, reaching for an apple from the bowl beside you. Seeing Jimin again has been weird, but you can’t ignore the part of you that is ready to welcome a part of your old life back, someone familiar, someone you liked very much. Like Yoongi said though, you’ll get to see for yourself if he’s anything like you remember him. Although you were both younger then, you don’t think he would’ve changed much from what Yoongi has told you so far.

“D’you want something a bit more filling than that?” Yoongi asks, nodding to the apple you’ve just bitten into. “Dinner is just about to be served so you can come down to eat or I can bring it up for you?”

“Oh, yeah, actually,” you answer, hearing your stomach growl after receiving a tiny morsel of food. “I am quite hungry, so I think I'll come down.”

“Sure,” Yoongi chuckles, “you must be hungry, you’ve been sleeping for almost three days.”

You look up at him with wide eyes. “Three days?!” When he nods, you immediately reach for your phone. “I need to call Moni, she’s probably wo–”

“I already have,” Yoongi says, interrupting you quietly.

Fingers freezing over her name, you look up at Yoongi. “What?”

“I already called her.”

A frown settles on your face. “What did you say?”

Yoongi has always been aware of your wish to keep everything hidden from your grandma, so he hesitates now, knowing this would be your response when he told you he called her. “Everything, but Y/N, she needed to know.”

“That wasn’t your decision to make.”

“I know,” Yoongi sighs. “Sorry.”

For a moment, it goes quiet and you lower your phone to the covers. Yoongi is right, she did need to know about this, and it’s not like she’s a stranger to this kind of stuff. Besides, what happened wasn’t related to any of the stuff you’ve been doing for Yoongi, which is what you always wanted to keep from her, and what’s happening now does seem to involve you, and therefore her.

“Sorry,” you say. “You’re right, I just didn’t…” you sigh, trailing off as you think about how worried she must be. Your grandma is a strong woman and you’re everything to her, just as she has been yours. 

“I know,” Yoongi says, understanding what you mean without you saying it; he knows your grandma well enough too.

“What did she say?” 

“First, she just wanted to know if you were safe,” Yoongi answers. “After that, she didn’t say much except that she’ll come as soon as she can.”

You nod. Knowing she’s coming brings a smile to your face, you’ve missed her a lot. Before you can respond, your stomach growls again. 

“Come on,” Yoongi says smiling, getting up and pushing the covers back, “let’s get you some food.”

“You still remember it?” Yoongi asks, a tone of surprise in his voice.

Taking another step, you shrug. “I wasn’t that little when I was last here, I must’ve been, what, eleven? Twelve?” 

“Hm, Yoongi hums. “Still impressive.” He keeps a hand hovering around you should you need him, but you’re doing just fine, walking slowly down the hall you recognise as being the third floor.

The Park Estate isn’t much different from what you remember. The estate sprawled across acres, is a masterfully designed blend of elegance and practicality. The entrance opens to a grand foyer, splitting into two distinct wings. The East Wing houses the biggest office which used to belong to Jihoon, and now you assume it would be Jimin’s. It’s flanked by a suite of offices, all of which are bathed in polished woods and leather tones, belonging to his closest men. The West Wing, larger and more personal, feels more like a home. It rises three floors (taking the space above the East Wing) to accommodate the family’s quarter’s on the top most floor, a lounge and other rooms on the second, and downstairs is a dining room, a sleek kitchen caters to formal gatherings and another lounge. 

Yoongi points out his room as you pass it, as well as naming some of the other guys whose names you try to pay attention to as you ignore the mild pain that spreads through your leg. 

As you approach the stairwell, you notice another dimly lit corridor leading off the main hallway. You can’t see anything down the corridor as you pass, only a wall with light coming from the left and you assume it continues on. 

“Jimin’s room is down there,” he says, answering your unspoken question.

“Ah,” you nod, carrying on. It makes sense for his room to be separate from the rest.

The second floor has a few extra guest bedrooms which are rarely used, and a private lounge which is different to what you remember, with a huge balcony that overlooks the gardens and the furniture has changed from mostly dark colours to a much warmer colour palette.

Downstairs, the split between the East Wing, and the West Wing is much more noticeable. The entrance to the West Wing from the grand foyer is always guarded and behind is a much more private hallway with more guards at the end for extra security, and the only way to go upstairs is from the two staircases within the West Wing. The staircase you’re approaching now takes you downstairs where the kitchen is. 

As you approach the stairwell, you freeze, your eyes landing on a painting hung up on the wall at the far end of the hall. Yoongi says your name as you begin to walk towards it, but you don’t respond as an old memory suddenly returns to your mind, from the night your father was murdered.

“Lightning…  is it a storm?” you asked, standing next to your dad in front of the easel. 

“Yes,” he said, ruffling your hair with his elbow as his hands were smudged with paint. 

“What does it mean?”

“Sometimes it can mean power,” he answered, turning back to the canvas in front of him. “But sometimes it can also mean punishment.”

You looked up, frowning.

He smiled. “Sometimes, too much power isn’t a good thing. If you’re not a good person, then it can be dangerous.”

“Oh…” You looked back at the canvas, admiring the deep shades of blue and black and grey he’d used to paint the night sky.  In the centre, a spear of light struck the violent waves of the sea below. “Who is it for?” you asked.

Your dad’s smile disappeared as he looked back at the canvas. “An old friend.”

The painting is just as vivid as you remember, and seeing it now brings tears to your eyes as you feel a bout of nostalgia. 

“My dad painted this,” you say quietly as Yoongi joins you in front of the huge canvas. 

He doesn’t say anything, but instead looks up at the painting, admiring it in its entirety as though he’s never seen it before. “It’s beautiful.”

Nodding, you blink a few times to get rid of the stinging sensation in your eyes.. You realise now that Park Jihoon was the old friend your dad mentioned; realising he called him an ‘old friend’, you know your father must’ve known in those months leading up to his death that he couldn’t trust Han-jae and Jihoon.

Just then, Yoongi’s phone vibrates in his pocket. Reading a text, he quickly excuses himself. “Come down if you can, or I’ll ask someone to come up,” he calls out as he’s already walking off towards the stairwell.

“Okay,” you answer absentmindedly, still looking at the painting.

It’s not often you allow yourself to dwell on the past, but it’s also not often that you find yourself face to face with things that remind you so much of the past. There’s a reason your grandma decided to leave Seoul all those years ago and it’s a decision you agreed with. Even when you moved back to Seoul, you knew you couldn’t return to your old home, not when all you had there was fond memories of a life that was so unfamiliar to you now. But now, standing in front of your father’s own hand painted work, a flood of memories return and you find it harder to fight the lump that settles stubbornly in your throat.

You don’t realise you’re standing there for long until you hear someone approaching behind you. Turning around, you recognise the man approaching you as one of the ones who were with Jimin that night at your home. He smiles as he comes to a stop beside you.

“Admiring the art?” he asks. 

“Mhm,” you hum, still watching his face – you didn’t realise then but now you see just how handsome he is, you feel like you can’t stop staring. 

He chuckles, glancing at the painting. “You know I was talking about the painting, not me?”

Shaking out of your daze, you smile. “Yes, sorry. I just recognised you from the other night.”

“Ah, yeah, sorry we had to meet in such a way,” he nods, still smiling. “I’m Seokjin, but call me Jin.” He extends his hand which you shake.

“Y/N, and it’s okay, not your fault.”

“How’s the wrist?” he asks, pointing to your wrist.

“Oh, it’s okay,” you answer, lifting your arm for him to see. You can still move your fingers fine, just the occasional stretch or twist of your wrist hurts. 

“Good. And the leg?”

“It’s mostly fine,” you nod.

He smiles again. “That’s good. Your wrist will heal fast, the leg might take a few weeks but it’s looking good so far. I didn’t expect you to be up so soon though,” he adds, raising a brow as though impressed.

You shrug.

 “I take it this isn’t your first time getting hurt like this?” Seokjin says casually.

 “What makes you think that?”

“You didn’t flinch that night, when we all aimed our guns at you. And the way you handled your own gun…” he shakes his head, smiling. “It definitely wasn’t your first time, and no normal person would point their gun at a mafioso at that.”

Chuckling, you turn back towards the painting again.  “I guess I like getting shot at.”

“Just like everyone else here,” he laughs. “Well, you must be hungry, Yoongi asked me to walk down with you.”

“Sure,” you nod, turning away from the painting. You can return to it later. “So what about you?” you ask Seokjin as you approach the stairwell. 

He watches carefully as you descend the first few steps. “What about me?” 

“This definitely isn’t your first time stitching someone up,” you remark. 

“Ah,” he nods. “Definitely not.”

You have to pause, reaching out for the banister to continue on. “So you’re a doctor?” 

He snorts, stepping along beside you. “No, but I should be. I’ve done this kind of stuff enough times.”

Smiling, you know his statement is true enough. Injuries like yours must be a regular occurrence in the Park household. Stepping onto the landing, you take a breather and sit on the bottom step for a moment before you continue on. At the same time, you hear hurried footsteps running towards you and Seokjin. 

“Jin hyung!” A bubbly voice sounds from down the corridor. You look towards the source and see two men who you recognise from that night – the man bun guy and the slender brown haired one behind him. They can’t see you sitting on the bottom step but as they get closer, Jin nods in your direction, turning their attention to you. 

They both smile warmly when they see you, bowing their heads. 

“Oh, miss L/N,” the first one comes forward, extending a hand. “I’m Jungkook, nice to meet you.” He has an adorable bunny smile and you can’t help but return it with one of your own. 

“Nice to meet you Jungkook,” you reply, shaking his hand. “And you can call me Y/N.”

“Y/N, got it,” he nods, taking a step back so his other friend can greet you properly. 

“Hi, Y/N,  I’m Hoseok, Hobi for short,” he grins, shaking your hand. 

“Hey.” You return his handshake, feeling slightly taken aback by how relaxed these guys are compared to their stoic looks from when you first saw them. Jungkook looks like a bunny rabbit in human form, and Hoseok beams like a ray of sunshine. 

“How are you feeling?” Hoseok asks, motioning towards your leg. 

“Um, it’s okay,” you smile. “I can still walk at least.”

He smiles with you, helping you as you start to get up. “Will you be joining us for dinner?”

You hum in response, allowing Seokjin to continue walking beside you as Jungkook walks ahead, leading you to the extensive lounge. 

Distractedly, you look around the familiar room. The coffee table you’re sitting at is still the same as it was when you used to have extra helpings of dessert with Jimin, secretly given to you by the housemaid who had a soft spot for Jimin. Being here reminds you so much of your father too, and knowing how much of a huge part of his life this family was makes you miss him dearly. 

Before any of the guys notice you’re not tuned into the conversation, you return your attention to what they’re saying. It hasn’t escaped you that none of them have said anything about your identity, and you reckon it must be because Jimin hasn’t recognised you – if he did, surely he would’ve told these guys since they were there too. You’re not sure if they know anything at all about you – perhaps you should’ve asked Yoongi about that before you came down. 

Whether they know anything or not though, they keep the conversation away from anything that would involve you from sharing too much, and you realise now, how their warm smiles and easy conversation is a stark contrast to the tense memory you have of first meeting them the other day. However, there’s some missing.

“Are there more of you?” 

Jin, in the middle of swallowing a big sip of water, nods and hums. 

Hoseok answers for him. “There’s Yoongi, who you saw already, and Taehyung, Namjoon and Jimin.”

“They were there the other day,” Jungkook says, his tone dimming slightly. 

“Namjoon and Taehyung will be joining us,” Jin adds, ignoring the last comment and keeping up his chipper attitude. “We always eat together whenever we can and they’re about somewhere.” 

It doesn’t escape you that he didn’t mention Jimin’s name though.

“Taehyung is probably in the wine cellar,” Hoseok says.

“Ah, yes, Taehyung loves to pick out the wine for dinner.”

Jungkook snorts. “He thinks he’s a sommelier.”

You smile. “Well, does he make a good choice?”

“I can never tell,” Jungkook shrugs.

Hoseok jerks a thumb in his direction. “He’s not matured enough.”

“Hey!” Jungkook starts, but is interrupted by Jin, glancing toward the doorway.

“Ah, speak of the devil!” 

You look up and see two more men entering. One has dark curls and sharp features, his posture relaxed but his gaze calculating as it sweeps over the room. The other one has dark grey hair and broad shoulders, wearing glasses that give him a sophisticated air. You recognise both of them from the other day.

“Yoongi said you’d come down,” the man with dark curls remarks as he approaches. His tone is calm, and a slight smile plays on his lips. “I’m Taehyung. Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

“Hi, Taehyung,” you reply, shaking his hand. His grip is firm but not overbearing. He’s undeniably striking, and there’s something about his presence that feels both inviting and enigmatic.

The broad man steps closer, adjusting his glasses as he nods at you. “I’m Namjoon. I handle most of the boring work around here.” His smile is disarming, and his voice carries a hint of dry humour. “Finances, logistics, making sure this place doesn’t fall apart.”

“Nice to meet you, Namjoon,” you say, shaking his hand. His words make you curious about just how much he handles behind the scenes.

Namjoon takes a seat in the armchair across from you and sinks into it comfortably. “How are you? I imagine this isn’t how you thought your day would go.”

You smile wryly, keeping your responses guarded. “Not exactly, no.”

Taehyung sits down next to Jungkook and returns his attention to you immediately. “Yeah, you put up quite the fight. Most people would’ve frozen in your position.”

“Not the first time I’ve had to defend myself,” you reply simply, not offering much else.

There’s a beat of silence as they all exchange glances, clearly intrigued but not pressing further. You appreciate the lack of prying.

“So,” Hoseok pipes up with an ever-cheerful tone. “Yoongi mentioned you might like spicy food. We had the chef prepare something special just in case.”

“Spicy works for me,” you say, grateful for the change in subject.

Jungkook claps his hands together. “Great! That makes two of us. The food here is amazing – you’ll love it.”

As the conversation shifts to lighter topics, you glance around the room again. The faces around the table are new, but the setting is steeped in nostalgia. Flashes of your childhood in this house flit through your mind – running down these halls, playing games late into the night, and the quiet presence of your father when he was here.

You force yourself to focus, tuning back into the conversation just as Seokjin asks, “So, Y/N, what’s your impression of the estate so far?”

“It’s... different,” you reply honestly, but keep your tone light. “Bigger than I remember.”

Seokjin tilts his head. “You’ve been here before?”

You curse yourself for slipping up but recover quickly. “Not this one exactly. Just a similar setup.”

Namjoon raises a brow but doesn’t say anything else, and you’re thankful for the reprieve.

The door from the far end of the room opens, and an older woman with an apron tied around her waist steps in, carrying a pitcher of water. Her hair is neatly pinned back, and her face is composed but kind. You immediately recognize her – Ara, one of the housemaids from your childhood.

Your eyes meet for a brief moment, and something flickers in her expression. She knows who you are. You’re certain of it. But to your surprise, she doesn’t say a word. Instead, she places the pitcher on the coffee table and begins pouring water into the glasses.

“Thanks, Ara,” Jungkook says warmly, and she nods with a small smile.

When she reaches you, she hesitates ever so slightly before pouring the water, her gaze lingering on you. You hold her gaze for a beat, searching her face for any sign that she might say something, but she doesn’t. Instead, she finishes and steps back, her expression carefully neutral.

“If you need anything, let me know,” Ara says softly, glancing at the rest of the table before leaving the room.

Namjoon watches her leave, then turns back to you with a faint smile. “She’s been here for a long time. Reliable, like everyone else here.”

You nod, trying to mask the unease and nostalgia that her presence has stirred up.

On the opposite side of the room, Yoongi comes in from the corridor you came through. With a smile at you, he then nods at everyone. “Dinner’s ready. Let’s eat before Jungkook inhales the entire table.”

Jungkook laughs, not bothering to deny the accusation. Everyone rises from their seats, and Yoongi gestures for you to follow them to the adjoining dining room.

"Taeheyung, did you choose a bottle for dinner then?" Hoseok asks.

"Of course. It’s spicy food so I brought up a Riesling."

"Nice one," Yoongi murmurs in approval.

"I want a beer," Jungkook says, with no regards to Taehyung's expression.

"More for us then."

As you walk, Namjoon falls into step beside you. “You’ll find this place can be both a refuge and a maze,” he says softly. “It’s easy to get lost, but it has its charms.”

You glance at him, wondering if there’s a deeper meaning to his words. “I’ll try not to get lost, then.”

He smiles faintly. “If you do, just call out. Someone will find you.”

Returning the smile, you find that any uneasiness you'd been feeling, begins to dissipate. It’s clear these men, while different in personality, share a bond that goes beyond mere loyalty to Jimin. You can see why they’ve been by his side for so long – they feel like a family in their own right.

Once everyone is seated at the table, conversation flows more freely and the atmosphere is surprisingly warm. Jin sits at one end of the table, serving himself a generous helping of the roasted chicken and rice dish.

“Jin-hyung, don’t hog all the drumsticks,” Jungkook whines as he watches Jin’s plate pile up.

“Then grab faster,” Jin quips with a smirk, not slowing his pace.

Taehyung leans back with an amused grin, observing the chaos. “I’m telling you, Jungkook, he does this every time. You should know better by now.”

“Should I?” Jungkook huffs dramatically. “Maybe next time I’ll just take the whole plate first.”

“Do it, and I’ll poison your portion,” Jin deadpans, but with a twinkle in his eye.

Hoseok chuckles as he passes you the salad bowl. “Don’t worry, Y/N. They act like this every meal. You get used to it.”

You smile faintly, watching them banter. It’s strange to see these men, who just days ago were all sharp glares and deadly precision, behaving like siblings teasing each other.

“Y/N,” Taehyung’s deep voice pulls you out of your thoughts. “Do you always eat so quietly? Or are you just plotting something?”

You blink at him, caught off guard. His face is serious, but his lips twitch with suppressed amusement.

“Maybe I’m just afraid to get between Jin and his drumsticks,” you reply lightly.

Laughter ripples around the table, and Taehyung raises his glass in salute. “Smart answer.”

Jungkook grins at you between bites of food. “Yeah, but next time, you should at least try to grab a piece before Jin wipes out the whole plate.”

“I heard that,” Jin retorts, mock-offended. “I’m ensuring quality control.”

“You’re ensuring there’s nothing left for the rest of us,” Hoseok counters, sipping his water.

As the banter continues, you allow yourself to relax a little. It’s a stark contrast to what you expected when you first woke up in the Park estate. 

“By the way, hyung,” Namjoon says, turning to Jin. “Have you checked the medical inventory reports? They were due yesterday.”

“Oh, are we doing shop talk at the table now?” Jin sighs dramatically. “Can’t a guy just eat in peace?”

“It’s your own fault for procrastinating,” Namjoon replies smoothly, adjusting his glasses.

“Don’t drag me into your world of schedules,” Jin retorts. “I’m a free spirit.”

“You’re just lazy,” Jungkook interjects, earning a flick of a bread roll from Jin.

“Enough guys,” Hoseok says, raising his hands in mock exasperation.

Namjoon’s phone buzzes on the table, followed immediately by Hoseok’s. They both glance at their screens, and their smiles fade slightly. Exchanging a look, they nod in unison before standing up.

“Sorry, something’s come up,” Namjoon says, sliding his phone into his pocket. “We’ll catch up later.”

“Don’t eat all the dessert without us,” Hoseok adds with a wink as they head out.

“Like we’d wait for you,” Jin calls after them before turning his attention back to the table.

“Do they always leave like that?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“Pretty much,” Taehyung replies, leaning back in his chair. “They’ve got the busiest jobs out of all of us. It’s a miracle they even sit down for meals sometimes.”

“Or they just like to be mysterious,” Jin adds, rolling his eyes. “Half the time, it’s probably nothing.”

You smile, but you feel the weight behind it all. These men might act carefree, but there’s no denying the underlying layers to their lives.

After a while, another two housemaids quietly enter to clear some of the empty dishes.

“You okay?” Taehyung asks, drawing your attention back to the table. “You’ve been pretty quiet.”

You nod, brushing it off. “Just tired, I guess.”

“Understandable,” Jin says, rising from his seat. “You should rest. Recovering from an injury takes time.”

The others murmur in agreement as they begin to disperse, leaving you with a mix of gratitude and uncertainty. The warmth of their camaraderie is undeniable, but beneath it all, you can’t shake the feeling of what’s happened, and what is undoubtedly yet to come. 

Only Yoongi remains at the table. He sits across from you and smiles. “It’s bringing back memories, huh?” He asks, seeing right through you. 

“Yep.” You look around. “Loads. I don’t know how this might sound, but it feels like I missed it.” You look across at Yoongi, expecting to see a puzzled expression but he just smiles.

“I think it’s normal. You were young when you came here and I don’t think you have many bad memories associated with the place. Only good ones, right?”

He’s right. Back then, coming here usually meant evenings filled with laughter, hiding in closets with Jimin, and Jiyoung’s occasional teasing if she was here. Your dad was still alive, and this house, in a strange way, felt like an extension of home. Now, it’s like walking through a memory you can’t decide if you’re grateful for or aching to forget.

You smile softly at Yoongi and nod, letting the silence stretch as you stand. He doesn’t press you further, only watching as you cross the room to the wide, cushioned window seat at the far end. The large pane of glass offered a view of the front of the house. Settling into the seat, you lean against the frame, your gaze drifting outward.

Outside, the estate is alive with movement. Men are stationed around the house, their presence a constant reminder of the life you’re now steeped in. From the East Wing, you spot four men climbing into a sleek black Escalade. Then your attention shifts to the house’s front steps, where Namjoon and Hoseok emerge, walking with purpose.

Behind them, another figure appears and you recognise him instantly. 

Jimin, dressed sharply from head to toe, walks across the front drive. He pauses briefly in front of his Porsche, glancing back toward Hoseok, who says something you couldn’t hear. A moment later, Hoseok and Jin climb into the car, and Jimin gets into the driver’s seat. The engine roars softly to life, and within moments, his Porsche is gliding down the private lane, the Escalade following closely behind.

Your gaze lingers on the lane until the cars disappear into the distance. Though you can’t see the estate’s gate from here, you can picture it clearly in your mind – a familiar marker from years ago.

“Where are they going?” you ask without turning, your voice quiet but curious.

“Something’s wrong with one of the shipments we received from the Takahashis. Akira has been a bit of a pain these past few months. Jimin reckons they’re now involved with the Lees and are trying to keep us distracted.”

You hum in response, saying nothing more, but your eyes stay fixed on the far-off trees that bordered the estate. Centred in front of the west wing, a fountain catches your attention, its centrepiece intricate and elegant. It reminds you of the one in Jimin’s mother’s garden and absently, you wonder if that fountain was still there.

As you shift, a sharp pang shoots through your leg, where the knife wound throbs dully. Your wrist isn’t much better, but the pain in your leg is what makes you wince audibly.

Yoongi notices immediately, his gaze darting toward you. “I think you’re due for your meds again.”

You exhale softly, nodding. “Yeah, I think so.”

“You wanna stay here or go back up?”

You push yourself to stand, biting back a groan as the strain makes your voice tight. “Mm, I know I slept for days, but I’m actually still exhausted.”

Yoongi chuckles, rising to help steady you. “That’s to be expected. Don’t worry.” He gestures toward the far end of the room. “We’ll go up, but this time we’re taking the lift.”

You can’t help but smile faintly at his consideration. “Appreciate that,” you murmur as he slides a steadying arm under yours.

The dim light of the ensuite glows behind you as you step into the bedroom, a towel draped over your head. You had just woken up after another long nap, your internal clock utterly thrown off by the days of rest. It's late now, just past midnight and the night is quiet, broken only by the faint rustle of fabric and the soft padding of your feet on the carpet.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you absentmindedly rub the towel through your damp hair.

Your gaze drifts to the shelves by the dresser table, now stocked with an array of skin and hair care products. A small smile tugs at your lips as you stand to examine them, fingers lightly trailing over the meticulously arranged items. Appreciatively, you sit and carry out a full skin and hair care routine – after three days without it, you definitely need it. You wonder if it was Ara who must have put them here. You're certain she recognised you at dinner and when you think about it now, you think it would be nice to speak with someone familiar.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the buzz of your phone on the bed. Turning, you see the screen light up with an incoming FaceTime call. The name on the screen sends a swell of emotion through you.

“Moni?” you answer, settling back on the bed as your grandmother’s face appeared.

The sight of her brings a pang of guilt and relief all at once. Her tired eyes search your face and you can tell she must have been worrying nonstop. “Y/N,” she says softly, her voice warm. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” you reassure her quickly, though your heart aches knowing she must have been so anxious. “Really.”

She gives you a sharp look, the kind only she can manage, and her tone turns brisk. “Good. Stay safe there, you hear me? We're figuring out what's going on and Yoongi will tell you more when he can."

You nod, knowing better than to argue. Her expression softened just a little as she continued. “Tell me about Jimin.”

“He hasn’t said anything.”

“About recognizing you?” she asks, her brow lifting slightly.

You nod. “Nothing.”

She sighs, a mixture of fondness and exasperation crossing her features. “I don’t imagine he would. But I have no doubt he does. You haven’t changed much. He, however... he’s different.”

Her words hang in the air, and you find yourself looking up, your thoughts turning to Jimin.

“Life hasn’t been kind to him,” she continues, her voice tinged with melancholy. “When I last saw him, I didn’t see the same little boy I knew.”

A bittersweet smile crosses your lips. “Life hasn’t been kind to any of us.”

Your grandmother purses her lips, acknowledging the truth of your words. “Do you remember his father?”

“Of course I do,” you say without hesitation. “It’s hard to forget a man as cold as him.”

“And Mr. Lee?” she asks, her tone cautious.

You nod, already anticipating where this was headed. “I know, Moni,” you say quietly, cutting her off.

She looks up at you, her expression briefly surprised, but it fades just as quickly. "Of course, I should have expected you would piece it together."

“I know it was them,” you say, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. “They did it. They killed Dad.”

She lets out a slow breath, her gaze steady on yours. “They were his best friends,” she says softly. “And then, all of a sudden…” She trails off.

You nod. You can only imagine that the sting of betrayal is still fresh even after all these years. Your grandmother's gaze remains on you, sharp and searching. “You’re there now, though… so, do you trust Jimin?”

You pause, memories of the night at your house flashing through your mind -- seeing Jimin in your kitchen with your gun aimed at him and he didn't retaliate in the slightest.

“I didn’t, at first,” you admit. “But I think I do. Besides, I trust Yoongi, and Yoongi trusts him."

She exhales slowly, relief evident on her face and a small smilw touches her lips. “You’re safe there, Y/N.”

You tilt your head slightly, meeting her gaze. “You trust Jimin?”

“I do,” she says without hesitation. “I trust him with you, and you’re my everything.”

The words wrap around your heart, and you wish you could reach through the screen to hug her. Instead, you nod and smile.

“You need to rest,” she instructs, her tone turning firm again. “I’ll call you later. Baek-hyun and I might come to see you. I think he wanted to see Yoongi too.”

Your lips quirk up at the thought. “That would be nice.”

"Good," she nods, and you eventually exchange goodbyes.

As the screen goes dark, you set the phone down, feeling a renewed sense of comfort. The thought of her visiting makes you smile softly as you sit in the quiet of the room.

Still restless though, you wander to the window, gazing out at the sprawling grounds bathed in the moonlight. You spot three men stationed at the back of the house, conversing together as they keep watch. The gardens stretch endlessly, just as you remembered. You can’t see the part of the grounds where Jimin’s mother’s garden would have been as it's hidden beyond the trees, but it would be nice to visit it tomorrow when the light returned.

As you shift, you feel your leg still aches, but it's different this time, more like the dull stiffness of inactivity than pain. Restless energy courses through you, and you decide a walk would do you good. The house is big enough and you need to keep your legs moving.

Stepping out of your room, you close the door quietly behind yourself and hear the faint hum of distant voices and sounds that tells you that not everyone is asleep yet.

As you move through the corridors, memories of Jimin filtered into your mind -- moments you hadn’t thought of in years now rising to the surface with startling clarity and they give you a strange sense of familiarity.

Eventually, your wandering brings you to your dad's painting again. You stop in front of it, the vivid strokes of lightning and sea send a wave of nostalgia over you, gratitude mingling with sadness. You remember you have a few of your father's paintings hanging up at home too and you make a mental note to ensure they're safely retrieved.

“Can’t you sleep, little bear?”

The voice, familiar and gentle, pulls you from your reverie. You turn to see Jimin standing a few feet away.

Dressed casually now, his white shirt unbuttoned at the top and his sleeves rolled up, he looks markedly different from the composed figure you saw earlier.

There’s a softness to him now, something that reminds you of the boy you once knew. His smile, small and tentative, feels as though it might disappear if the silence breaks too loudly.

You smile back, and the corners of his lips lift a little more.

Realising what he just said, his words stop you short – it’s the name of the book you gave to him the first time you met him, so many years ago.

Jimin steps closer, the lamp’s dim light casting soft shadows on his features.

As he nears, the subtle scent of his cologne reaches you – a delicate blend of cedarwood and something faintly sweet, familiar yet grounding. It lingers in the air between you, quietly drawing your attention to his presence.

Despite the weariness evident in his eyes, there’s a steadiness about him, a calmness that feels both reassuring and disarming.

“Y/N,” he says, your name leaving his lips quietly, as though testing how it feels after all these years. “Did you think I wouldn’t recognise you?”

“I wasn’t counting on it,” you admit, your voice soft. “I’m surprised you remember the book.”

Jimin’s smile grows, faint but genuine. “How could I not? I never got to thank you for it properly.”

“Thank me?” you ask, tilting your head slightly.

He nods, shifting as if the memory is a tender one. “It was a comfort to me for a long time. I wasn’t allowed picture books of my own, so… thank you.”

You remember then how he once told you about his father’s strict rules. A cold man, his father likely saw no value in picture books – if they didn’t teach something useful, they weren’t worth having.

“You’re welcome,” you say softly.

Jimin’s gaze lingers on your face, and you feel a warmth creeping into your cheeks. Turning back to the painting, you focus on the familiar strokes of your father’s work.

“He was talented,” Jimin says quietly, standing beside you.

You smile faintly. “He was.”

After a moment, he adds, “I can have it moved to your room, if you like.”

You shake your head. “No, no. It’s okay. This is where it belongs.”

Jimin laughs softly, the sound low and soothing. “It’s actually covering up a stain we couldn’t remove. You might remember it since it was you who put it there.”

“Me?” you ask, eyebrows rising in surprise as you look at him.

He nods, a playful glint in his eyes. “Yep. One of the nights our fathers were away, and you had to stay over. Jiyoung was babysitting us, and we were painting. When it was time for bed, you didn’t want to sleep, so you ran away from her – with all the paints.”

As he speaks, the memory surfaces, vivid and sheepishly embarrassing. “Oh gosh, I remember. I tripped, and the paint went everywhere.”

Jimin smiles wider now, clearly suppressing a laugh. “We tried to paint over it a few times, but the colours were too bright. Eventually, my dad decided to put this up.”

You shake your head, laughing softly, though you still feel a twinge of embarrassment. “I can’t believe that’s still here.”

Jimin’s smile lingers, and the space between you feels quieter, weighted by an unspoken familiarity. His eyes flicker back to the painting, then to you. “It’s been a long time since then,” he says, his voice gentle, almost reflective.

You glance at him, catching the subtle shift in his tone, something deeper beneath the surface. “Yes,” you reply, turning your gaze back to the painting. “Though being here again… it almost feels like no time at all.”

Jimin studies you for a moment, his expression softening. “I imagine it feels different,” he says, “without your father?”

“Exactly,” you answer, the memory stirring a pang of longing. “It felt safe wherever he was.”

“And now?” His question is soft, careful, as though he’s weighing each word before speaking.

You hesitate before answering, meeting his gaze. “I want to say yes,” you admit honestly, “but experience tells me not to feel safe anywhere.”

Jimin nods, his expression contemplative, and something about his calm presence makes your honesty feel less vulnerable. “You’ve learned not to trust anyone,” he says, his voice carrying a quiet understanding.

You look at him, searching his face, but his steady gaze gives nothing away except an openness that feels disarming.

“You’re right to think that,” he continues, his tone neither judgmental nor apologetic, as if he understands the walls you’ve built all too well.

The words sit between you for a moment before you ask, carefully, “Can I trust you?”

His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, silence fills the space between you.

“Yes,” he says, his voice quiet but certain. “But you’ll make that decision on your own.”

You nod slowly, his answer settling something inside you. There’s no urgency in his response, just a quiet assurance that feels like a small but solid anchor. It’s not a promise – it’s an invitation.

“Until then,” he continues, his voice softening, “please, make yourself at home. You’re safe here.”

Jimin doesn’t say anything else, but you catch the way he watches you, something unspoken but soft in his expression. You feel it yourself too – after so many years there is so much to say, to ask, but for now you take the peaceful quiet for what it is.

His presence feels closer now and you find yourself smiling faintly, glancing back at the painting.

It occurs to you now, how strange it is, that this time, there is something familiar that Jimin’s presence stirs in you – a reminder of what it feels like to trust, even if only a little.

note. thank you all so much for reading! please don’t be a silent reader :’) this fic takes me forever to write and I’d love for you to share your thoughts w me -- i really wanna know what you guys think! and rb toooo <3333

[wave2tyun]

meddle about | ☆

pairing: idol!yeonjun x idol!reader

genre: idol!au, best friends to lovers, some fluff but also a bit suggestive (?) towards the end

prompts: – “you’re blushing”

– “i can feel how fast your heart is beating right now”

warnings: none!

word count: 1.8k

a/n: the inspiration for this came from a wonho photoshoot behind the scenes clip that i randomly saw on ig reels........😟 i hope there aren't any mistakes left in this because i've been lazy and going only by trust when i repost fics asdbhja

☆ = repost from my old blog!!

you and yeonjun didn’t exactly meet…under the greatest circumstances.

as txt’s fame was continuously on the rise, there was no way you had never heard of yeonjun, or the name tomorrow x together. however, it was only when you had your comeback stage at inkigayo that you finally got to see yeonjun in real life, and not just on a screen.

you expected things to go smoothly. yeonjun was going to just take your interview, and then you were going to simply perform with your group on stage, as usual.  

realistically speaking, that was supposed to be it- nothing more than a polite, professional interaction, he was the mc after all. you didn’t even think you’d cross paths with him throughout the day again. but the lunch break had something -quite staggering- in store for you:

the inkigayo sandwich. those words still make you shudder.

as an idol, you had to have one, at least once. it was the talk of town after all, even though the combination of egg, crab and strawberry jam- all squished together between 3 pieces of white bread- didn’t exactly sound appealing to you.

you gulped as you looked at the piece of food in your hands; the smell wasn’t that appetizing either, and you wondered how it was possible for them to have such high sales for a shitty product.

you didn’t want to do it, but the thought of wasting your money without at least having a bite was haunting you. you closed your eyes, anticipating the worst outcome imaginable as the sandwich came closer and closer towards your mouth.

“hey- at least remove that paper before you start eating” one of your members said, making you frown. paper? what paper? the ingredients of the sandwich were already weird enough, what did they add that paper for?

confused, you opened your eyes again, a small note had been carefully placed somewhere between the plastic wrapper and the bread. grossed out, you removed it, moving towards the trash can to throw it away, only to get a glance of a phone number written on the back of it, making you stop in your tracks.

‘call me ;) - choi yeonjun’

now, you see- you only knew that the inkigayo sandwich was famous, you didn’t know why it was famous. 

you angrily searched for choi yeonjun around the cafeteria, shoving the sandwich towards his chest once you found him “what the fuck is this?” you hissed appaled by his actions. not sparing him a single moment to respond, you instantly got into a rant about how you were ‘put in danger’ by him for placing something (almost) inedible in your lunch.

he stared at you with big eyes and raised eyebrows, panicking that you’d blow this out of proportion even more if he excused himself before you were done blowing off some steam. he knew very well not to argue with a sleep deprived person who was also hungry.

“that actually wasn’t meant for you…” he muttered in the end, biting his cheek.

“oh.”

on the way back to the dorms, you swore you’d never step foot back into inkigayo ever again, or at least not until yeonjun stepped down from his position as an mc.

despite the seemingly traumatic event, you still kept the piece of paper containing his number, jam stain and all. you fiddled it around your fingers as you rolled around in bed, unable to fall asleep. it was way past midnight, and the remorse you felt for not having apologised to yeonjun was keeping you wide awake. you had been too embarrassed to utter any more words after hearing his reply and used the first opportunity -which was a member calling out for you- to leave the room. 

the guilt was eating you up, and, in the end, you decided it was best to at least say sorry to him through text. and so you did- not exactly expecting much besides getting blocked by him. 

turns out yeonjun found the situation more amusing rather than infuriating. he accepted your apology with ease, and you promised that you’d buy him lunch the next time you visit inkigayo, as emotional compensation.

yeonjun, however, lied to you that day. the phone number in the sandwich was, in fact, meant for you. he heard from his seniors that ‘back in the day’, this was a particularly popular method to start dating between idols. when it was announced that you’d perform on the day he was mc-ing, he found his chance, took it, then pretty much failed miserably. his attempt at getting to know you better was somewhat saved by your apology text. after the whole ordeal, he decided that it was better to take it step by step and develop his friendship with you before dipping his toes into the dating scheme once again.

bit by bit- yeonjun began to reveal his flirty nature. first, he started bringing food and drinks to your company whenever you told him you had to stay up late, practicing overnight. then, he made sure to always compliment how you looked in music videos or album teasers, sometimes even sending coffee trucks to the filming sites to support you. finally, he started bringing you flowers whenever you were done with comeback stages. the change in his attitude was making you question the status of your relationship. still, knowing how risky this all was, you decided it was foolish to jump to any conclusions- although a part of your heart did cling tightly onto the hope that he did this because he saw you as something more than a friend.

it was no surprise to the public eye that the two of you were close friends in the industry. so, when elle korea wanted a photoshoot between a pair with good chemistry, yeonjun ran to his managers, begging to convince some of the higher-ups to recommend the two of you. not a single soul in the company was able to resist him, so he successfully scored the spot. however, you were only informed that you received an offer for the photoshoot, not that yeonjun had been involved in this whole ordeal.

the concept was not quite what you were expecting.

when you heard the words “a pair with good chemistry” you were expecting a fun, bubbly photoshoot, something colorful maybe- not a sensual, romantic theme. you choked on your spit when they showed you the outfit you were supposed to wear, then choked again when you saw yeonjun’s outfit: black pants and a blue satin button-up shirt that had more than 3 buttons left open, exposing the skin of his chest. 

and -as if the revealing clothes weren’t enough- there was one more detail left that would supposedly “tie this all together”: a kiss mark. on yeonjun’s neck. 

the staff handed you a tube of red lipstick, shoving you and yeonjun in a private dressing room before you could even process the situation.

you stole a look at yeonjun, who pursed his lips, trying to contain his laugh as he made eye contact with you.

“did you know about this?” you asked him with a serious face, pointing the lipstick towards him. why were you the only one baffled here?

yeonjun couldn’t help but let out tiny squeaks as he struggled calm down, your shocked, accusatory expression all too entertaining for him “no” he snickered “why? are you nervous? think you can’t do it?” he crossed his arms.

the attitude with which he said that only earned him a scoff from you “of course i can do it” you said as you walked towards the mirror. once you were in front of it though, you were suddenly way more aware of how sweaty your palms were getting, hands trembling a bit as you put the lipstick on.

yeonjun was never one to shy away from physical touch. you were used to receiving hugs from him, sometimes even having him hold onto your hand or arm, swinging them playfully whenever you walked together. but this? this felt…different. 

intimate. 

it was like a possible breach within your friendship. and while you weren’t exactly nervous about the situation itself, you were definitely afraid about what was going to happen between the two of you after.

yeonjun was already behind you once you finished putting on the makeup and turned around. the playful smirk he’s had ever since you both entered the room never left his face. he lightly quirked up an eyebrow, provoking you to make the move- curious to see if your earlier statement was the truth or whether they were just empty words. unsure what to do with your hands, your fingers didn’t let go of the lipstick tube, playing with it in a restless manner as you inched closer towards yeonjun’s neck. the citrus fragrance of his perfume still lingered on the skin, and you closed your eyes as you left a quick kiss there, the touch too light to leave a mark visible enough. 

“you’re blushing” yeonjun chuckled, tilting his head as he looked in the mirror behind you, clicking his tongue “that’s not right…” he muttered. his gaze was fixated on your face for a few seconds, admiring the pink dusting your cheeks. then, they trailed off to your hands, snatching the item to cover his own lips in that same crimson color. “this is how you do it” he whispered, dipping his head down, arms sneaking around your waist simultaneously. warm breath on your neck, chest flushed against yours, yeonjun could feel your racing pulse underneath his lips as he pressed a long kiss on the hot skin. the chilling sensation running down your spine had your hands unconsciously reaching out for his forearms, holding onto them to keep yourself steady and not slip away from his grasp. 

“i can feel how fast your heart is beating right now” he breathed out, fingers tracing lines along the small of your back. seeing that you weren’t pushing him away, his face didn’t leave its close spot to your body. instead- his lips travelled along the skin, pressing featherly kisses along the way- nibbling, lightly biting, the red marks blooming being hidden away by the lipstick covering them.

the mirrors, the vanity lights, even the photoshoot itself, they were all turning into a hazy memory as you were becoming more and more enthralled by him. completely absorbed by his touch on your body, you felt like you wouldn’t be able to breathe properly again until he carried on with the next step. “jun-” the sound of the nickname was enough to send an electrifying jolt throughout his heart. his own breathing was irregular as he stopped, distancing himself a bit from your neck to lift his head up, plush lips and smudged lipstick coming into sight. 

“we’re not leaving this room until you kiss me on the lips”

taglist: @huekalover3000

[redflagshipwriter]

Halfa Cass Ch 10 part 1

masterpost

“Tyranny!” Damian bellowed. His little face was red with fury.

Cass crossed her arms and nodded agreement. She was not accepting any more changes to her life at this time. Things were already happening, too much.

“Nevertheless,” said cruel Batdad. “The pediatric nutritionist will be here tomorrow.” He was trying very hard to seem composed and unaffected by their upset. But he was affected. So affected. And yet he persisted on traveling down the wrong path.

Cass hissed.

Their natural ally, Alfred, put his nose up a little as he cleared the dinner dishes. He sniffed as he left, unhappy-stiff. Cass did not know how he had been defeated. Food was his domain, not some interloper with a pathetic weepy Doctorate of nutritional sciences.

“He designs the meal plans for child Olympians,” Batdad coaxed. He wanted them to like him soooo much. “Standard advice is not necessarily very useful for extreme athletes. You might feel better afterwards. Wouldn’t that be nice?” Gentle, gentle, pleading.

No!!!

Damian stabbed his fork upright into his cinnamon roll and pointed an index finger at their tormentor. “I will not submit. I consume an adequately varied and nutritious diet. Whatever your true aims are, I will not be moved.”

Cass scarfed down her own dessert messily, scowling at Batdad the whole time as if to say: come and take it from me. Can you? You can’t.

Duke watched this with clever eyes darting between Batdad and his siblings. His body said: I don’t care. But I won’t pick Bruce publicly. What can I get? Can I make trouble? 

Hmm. Cass didn’t like that. She narrowed her eyes at him. He should philosophically agree with their cause. She was going to crawl under his bed and hiss, scary sounds to wake him up and go BOO. 

She made a mental note to do that before patrol tonight. If she could even fit it in, jeeze.

Ugh. So busy. Always so much to do.

The tension was high when they trooped to the cave for briefing, before Duke went to bed and everyone else took their pre-patrol nap. Cass lingered sullenly because she wanted to hear Duke’s report on the mechanic. Jacqueline’s apartment had been sneakily snuck through. The conclusion?

“There’s a lot of work clothes in the apartment, but no tools or anything like that. No references or books, aside from a couple of ones from the university library.” Duke fidgeted, micromovement. Not an interesting report. Not an enjoyable detour. “There’s no indication as to what she’s been working on. I took DNA samples off some dirty dishes and hair off the sofa. They’re filed for processing.”

Disappointing. The next step was unclear. Cass frowned. Should they try to observe again? Wait for Jacqueline to leave her lair and follow? Perhaps they should enter the apartment and lurk, ask questions. Tell her: We know your criminal associations. Stop it. Stop it, Jacqueline.

Damian stuck his lips out. He would say: This is not a pout, Cain.

It was a pout.

“I see.” Timbird took notes, fingers flying. Tap tap tap. “You’re passing the case back?”

“It’s all yours,” he said, nodding to Damian. Babybat nodded solemnly. My responsibility. He looked at her. Cass nodded: I have your bat-back. Let’s creep on Jacqueline, as a family.

Hmm. It was too quiet. Usually, there was Batdad commentary. She snuck a look at him even though she and Damian were ignoring him for his cruelties.

Batdad was pondering. He was paying enough attention, but his mind was on something else. Hmm. Cass prodded him. “Ah- Tim, did you upload your conclusions about the Amity Park case?”

Oh. Cass kept her body still, letting it say: I’m bored, I don’t care.

Timbird sighed and ruffled his hair. The gel made a little crackle sound. “It’s a massive government coverup,” he said. Unhappy. “I think a few residents fled, but it looks like it was a mass murder of the residents. The tank tracks came from a subdivision called the GIW, which is ridiculously over militarized.” He opened a file on one of the many Batcomputer screens. It showed a complex of buildings, taken from above. Superboy photography? “They’re doing weapons development, and it appears to be based on the designs of local scientists, also missing.”

“These scientists were affiliated with the GIW?” Batdad asked.

Tim shrugged. “Unclear.” His mouth twitched, unhappy. “There’s evidence of some collaboration, but it seemed a relatively normal exchange of information. Now, the GIW appears to have all their patented inventions and is replicating them.”

“So either these scientists are on staff or they have been removed,” Damibat scowled. A grumpy line formed between his eyebrows. So cute. 

“Removed?” Duke repeated, amused.

“From this mortal coil,” Damibat repeated. Impatient. Keep up, Thomas.  Haha. Cass sniggered and stuck her tongue out. Yeah. Keep up, Duke.

[impala-dreamer]

You Only Want Me When You're High

A Story from The Boys Universe

~ As the newest and most useless recruit to The Boys, Y/N is tasked with keeping an eye on Soldier Boy while Butcher sorts things out. Annoyed to be given such a ridiculous job, she tries to keep the defrosted supe at arm’s length, but there’s something in the drugs and in his eyes that makes him hard to resist…~

Soldier Boy (Ben) x F!Reader, Hughie Campbell, Billy Butcher

5,426 Words

NSFW, Sexual Acts, Excessive Drug Use, Just NSFW all around… 

“I’m going to put my clothes on before you say anything else” for @jacklesversebingo

JacklesBingo Masterlist ~ My Full Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

Sunlight illuminated a cloud of bluish-gray smoke and Ben took another hit. He breathed deeply, willing the drugs to seek out every cell in his preternaturally powerful body and corrupt them long enough to give him a little buzz. 

It wasn’t easy. It would take enough drugs to kill a mortal for him to feel that sweet high, but excess was a word he wasn’t familiar with.

Eyes closed, he exhaled another stream of musky vapor into the rented room. He felt his brain shift to the left for a quick second as a faint bit of dizziness struck him. He grinned, leaned back against the headboard, and stretched his long legs over the hideous bedspread. 

“There it is…” 

Another hit boosted his mood and Soldier Boy sighed happily, momentarily at peace.   

He cracked open an eye when the bathroom door opened. 

He licked his lips when Y/N walked out with a dingy white towel wrapped tight around her damp body; her hair pinned up and safe from the shower. 

He whistled when she crossed the room, heading for her duffle bag. 

“Fuck off,” she snapped, rolling her eyes as his grew darker and more locked on her form. 

Ben chuckled under his breath. “Hey, sweetheart, you can’t walk around naked like that and expect me not to get stiff.” 

He shifted on the bed, tugging at his pants to accommodate the growing length against his thigh. She stared at his hand as it teased the shadow creasing the fabric, and swallowed hard. He was gorgeous but the price of a quick romp wasn’t worth the pain in the ass. 

He winked. 

She groaned. “Asshole.” 

“Oh, come on-” Ben took a long pull on the blunt and held it in, voice tight on the inhale. He grabbed his cock. “You know you want some of this.”

“The weed yes…” She turned her back on him, grabbed the bag, and tugged open the noisy zipper.  “Your dick… no.” 

He scoffed. “You’re shit at lying, Y/N.” 

Her cheeks burned but she tried to ignore him as she searched the bag for her clothes. “Am I?” 

The wide tip of his pink tongue flashed over his lips and Ben sat up, focusing on her. “Sure are,” he replied, tracing her spine with his gaze. “You’ve been acting like you don’t want to get on your knees, but I know you’re hot as hell for me. You’d suck my dick in a second if I whipped it out right now, wouldn’t you?” 

He watched the muscles in her back tighten as she struggled to hide the shiver that slid from head to toe. 

“You’re a pig.” 

“Maybe.” He shrugged and leaned back again, bringing the joint to his lips. “Don’t mean I’m not right.” 

Y/N glared at him over her shoulder. “Butcher should have left you on ice.”

Ben grinned. “I’m still a little chilly,” he teased. “Why don’t you come warm me up?” 

“In your dreams, Grandpa.”

He patted his thigh. “Come on, Sweet Cheeks, hop on up here and show me those perky tits.” 

Arousal and anger swirled in her gut and Y/N grit her teeth. “Things don’t work like that anymore. You can’t just snap your fingers and have women swoon over you. This isn’t the ‘40s.” Her glare cut through him as sure as Homelander’s laser eyes could and his nostrils flared in annoyance. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to put my clothes on before you say anything else.” 

She turned to head back to the bathroom, but he moved like lightning, blocking her path. She gasped when his big hand locked around her arm. 

“What are you doing?” She twisted her hand to break free and the bundle of clothes fell to the floor. “Let me go.” Her voice was shaking but as firm as she could make it. 

He laughed and tightened his fingers around her wrist. “Your pulse is racing.” 

She looked up and sneered. “That’s because you’re annoying the crap out of me.” 

“Or maybe, it’s because you want me to do this-” 

Soldier Boy tugged her arm and she crashed against his firm chest. She inhaled quickly, sucking in the heat of him, the dark woody scent of his body, and the stink of the drugs. Her head clouded and he took advantage, pressing his lips to hers in a rough kiss. Unconsciously, she opened for him and his hot tongue snaked against hers. She couldn’t hide the way her heart pounded- he could hear it. She couldn’t conceal the flush of her skin- he could feel it. She couldn’t obscure the dampness between her legs- he could smell it.  

When he let her go, Y/N stumbled back and shook her head to clear her vision. 

Towering over her, Ben smirked proudly and licked her taste from his lips. “Told ya.” 

Her palm cracked hard against his cheek and he cringed for her benefit. 

“Fucking asshole!” 

Staring up into his emerald eyes, she felt herself weaken but refused to give in. She hit him again.

“Don’t you fucking touch me!”

Another slap made a soft smile pluck the corner of his mouth and Y/N raged, giving into the rushing arousal that swarmed her thoughts and pushed away her common sense. She raised her hand again, but instead of a slap, she clawed at the nape of his neck and drew his lips down to hers, kissing him hard. 

Ben sucked in a breath, shocked by her aggression. He hummed when she licked into his mouth; slipped his free hand down her sides when she bit his bottom lip. His fingertips dug into the meat of her hips and she pulled back, looking up into his freckled face.

The end of the joint smoldered between his fingers, crumbling to ash like a pillar of Pompei. Y/N wrapped her delicate hand around his wrist and brought his fingers up to her mouth. 

Holding his gaze, she puckered her lips and sucked in a deep breath, pulling the drugs into her lungs. She shuddered and coughed, senses overtaken by the strength of the bud.

“Fuck…” 

Ben bent down to take a final drag and the cherry died. He dropped the dregs and pulled her close, slowly exhaling the smoke through her parted lips. 

She inhaled and her eyes rolled. Her balance skewed and she swayed against him. 

“Now…” He cleared his throat and slid his hand against the back of her head, holding her there. “How about you get on your knees and show me what a good girl you are.”

Y/N laughed and shook her head. “I have a better idea.”

He cocked a brow. “Really?” 

“Mhm…” 

Taking a step back, Y/N released the knot in the towel and let it fall to her feet. Immediately, Ben reached for her, but Y/N caught his hand, shoving it away. 

“I told you, things are different now.” 

Reaching up, she dragged her fingertips down his cheek. He leaned into her touch, eyes fluttering slightly. 

“It’s not just take, take, take anymore…”

Her hand moved slowly down his throat, tracing the thick muscle down to his shoulder. 

“Sometimes, you gotta give.”

His forehead creased in confusion, and Y/N explained without words, pressing his shoulder down and urging him to his knees. 

In awe of her suggestion and high as a kite, Ben slid to the floor and looked up with full-blown pupils and wet lips. As he watched, she ran her hands over her breasts, plucking each nipple until the flesh darkened. He swallowed hard. Her right hand dipped down between her thighs, carrying his gaze to her pussy. She spread her legs and rubbed gently, slicking her fingers with arousal. 

He parted his lips, ready to shoot another one-liner her way, but Y/N silenced him quickly. She pushed her wet fingers into his mouth and rubbed her juices on his tongue. 

His eyes closed and he moaned around her fingers. “Fuck…” 

She spread her legs and grabbed a handful of his thick hair. “Time to give, Soldier Boy…”

Y/N forced his face into her cunt, but he needed little prodding. As soon as her flesh hit his face, he started to lick and her body arched back in mounting pleasure. She tugged at his hair as he sucked on her clit; bucked her hips against his mouth when he pressed two hot fingers into her. 

He came up for air, sitting back on his heels and craning his neck looking up at her. His face glistened and his lips were swollen. He pressed his palm down over his cock and groaned. 

“Wanna fuck you,” he breathed, roughly stroking himself through his sweats. 

Y/N smiled devilishly and shook her head. “That’s so sweet,” she mocked, “but no.” Again, she grabbed his hair and yanked until he fell forward. “This is all you get.” 

Ben sank into her pussy, driving her wild as lingering smoke faded around them.  

He watched her through the car windows, staring as she walked down the street with Hughie by her side. They were arguing about something he couldn’t hear. Hughie’s lanky twig arms were waving in the wind as Y/N stood with her arms crossed and a hip popped in annoyance. Ben couldn’t give less of a shit what they were fighting about, he just wanted out of the damned car. He wanted to stretch his legs and wreak some havoc on that bleached blond, cape-wearing dickwad Homelander. 

Instead, he crushed another pill in his strong hand and snorted it back, humming loudly as the jolt hit his brain. “Goddamn, that is good shit.” 

Again, his eyes flew to Y/N and he licked his lips, remembering the sweet taste of her pussy and the noises she made while cumming on his tongue. 

As if she could feel his eyes on her ass, Y/N suddenly turned and met his gaze. She shuddered a bit but didn’t look away, staring into his eyes from across the street. 

Hughie waved a hand in front of her face, drawing her attention back. 

“Hello! We’re not done here,” he snit; baby face screwed up in anger. 

Y/N tilted her head and shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you, Hughie. I’m not in charge of this shit. I’m just a babysitter.” 

She looked at the car again and found Ben still admiring her form. He had his right arm on the window ledge and his forehead against the door. She couldn’t see his left hand, but she could imagine where it was as he pressed his tongue against his top teeth and dropped his eyes down her body. 

Y/N sighed out a delicate moan. 

Hughie gagged. “Are you serious?” 

“What?” 

He grabbed her arm, turning her back around. “Are you fucking him?” 

Y/N startled and dropped her arms. “What? Who?” 

Hughie’s face reddened. “Who? Soldier Boy!”

Shaking herself, Y/N cringed. “Ew. No! Why the fuck-” 

“Well, you’re staring at him like he’s a fucking vibrator.”

Y/N laughed. “First off- that’s disgusting. Do not insult my vibrator like that. She’s one of my best friends.” She rolled her eyes. “Secondly, if I was gonna fuck anyone around here, it would not be that sexist junkie.” Hughie held his breath and stood up a little straighter. She laughed again. “Calm yourself,” she advised, turning away. “It wouldn’t be you either…” 

Ben slowly rubbed his cock through his pants, eyes glued to her curves. He laughed when she threw her hands up, obviously annoyed with Hughie and his problems. The twig man cowered slightly and his face blushed hot red. 

Soldier Boy laughed. “What a pussy.”

Three hours later, Y/N was half asleep in the front seat of the busted Lincoln, desperate to stay awake 

Night had fallen as they waited in the woods, trapped in a car by her sharp-tongued, bearded leader Butcher. Y/N wanted to get into the fray and stab something, but she had been bound to Soldier Boy’s side, tasked with keeping him content and docile until needed. 

She hated it. 

He was humming to himself in the backseat, happily learning how to access porn on her smartphone. It had taken some time to get him to understand the mechanics of the swipe, but once he did, he was off like a racehorse, Googling the most depraved acts he could think of. 

“Holy shit-” 

Y/N rubbed her tired eyes and looked at him in the rearview mirror. His face was lit by the screen and his green eyes were wide; his plump lips stretched into an awed smile. 

“What now? You find Hentaied yet?” 

Ben looked up, confused, but immediately went back to his discovery. “No. What? No. There’s… well, there’s two girls… and one cup… and-”

“No! No. No.” Reaching into the backseat, Y/N grabbed the phone from his hands and quickly shut it down. “You’re not watching that crap on my phone.” 

He laughed. “Crap.” 

“Ew.” With a heavy sigh, she tossed the phone onto the passenger seat. “You’re gross.” 

“It was on your phone.” 

“Because you looked it up- I- It doesn’t matter. Just shut up. Please. My head hurts.” 

Ben watched as she rubbed her temples gently. “Ya know… I have something that’ll cure your headache.” 

Y/N glowered at him. “Don’t you dare take your dick out.” 

“Not yet.” He chuckled and produced a prescription bottle, quickly popping the top. “This.” 

She leaned over to look at the three white tablets as they tumbled into his palm. “What is it?” 

He grinned. “My old friend Bennie.” 

“Um… pass.” 

“Oh, come on. You’ll feel better… it’ll… wake you up.” Ben winked and closed his fist, crushing the pills to powder. Unfurling his fingers, he offered the drugs again. 

Y/N declined with a simple shake of her head. 

He shrugged. “Suit yourself.” With a loud snort and a flip of his long hair, the pills were gone, launched up into his brain like a rocket ship. “Fuck!” He shook himself and laid back, pupils wide and skin tingling. 

Y/N couldn’t look away. He looked normal for once. The grumpy, disgusting aura was gone, replaced with a relaxed yet wired look that was more appealing by the moment. 

She huffed. 

He tapped a single tablet into his open hand. 

She held his gaze and nodded. 

“Good girl.” 

The drugs flew up her nose and instantly shook her brain. A bolt of lightning struck her head and every part of her came alive. Her pulse rose, her skin prickled, her pussy throbbed. She felt elated and wild. She wanted to rip her clothes off and run through the trees, feel the earth beneath her bare feet, howl at the half-moon. 

“Nice, right?” 

Ben smirked and her attention shifted from the fantasy of a naked nature waltz to a dream of him. 

Y/N bit her lip and reached over the seat to grab the collar of his shirt. The cotton rumpled in her tight fist and Ben fell forward, pulled by her lustful tug. 

She kissed him. 

He hummed and shifted closer. 

She pushed her tongue between his soft lips. 

He grabbed her hair and yanked her head back, exposing her delicious neck. 

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he growled, pressing his lips to her pulse. “I wanna eat you alive.” 

Y/N moaned and dipped her head to look into his eyes. The move pulled her hair harder and the pain spread like concupiscent fire through her system. “Maybe later,” she teased. 

Her tongue shot out and lapped at his lips. 

He sighed lustfully. “For now?” 

Y/N bit down on his bottom lip and let it fall slowly from her teeth. His eyes rolled and she kissed his deeper. 

“For now…” Her lips slid across his cheek and settled by his ear. “... I want you inside of me.” 

Ben growled and grabbed her waist, easily lifting her over the seat and into his arms. She fell into him and went back to tasting his lips, moaning with every electric kiss, every twitch of his fingertips over her skin. 

He snuck his hand beneath her shirt, pawed at her tits, and teased each nipple in turn.

She pushed down on his lap, shivering when she felt his erection poke through the layers of fabric between them. 

“Please,” she moaned. “Please fuck me.” 

Her hands fell down his big chest and Ben’s breath grew ragged and heavy. He kissed her one last time and then shoved her away. She gasped at his strength as she ended up on her back with her jeans tugged away. He moved with lightning speed, removing her panties and kicking away his clothes. 

There was no hesitation when he was ready, no need to warm her up. Y/N was wet and tight, ready for him like she’d been edging herself for weeks. 

The moment his cock pressed against her cunt, she was gone, clawing at his arms and letting out wild curses of pleasure. 

He fucked her hard, pushing in deeper with every thrust. He watched her eyes roll and her muscles clench. He heard her heart struggle and the blood flow to her pussy. He knew her then inside and out and used every bit of his power to bring an orgasm crashing down upon her. 

“Fuck!” She dug her nails into his shoulders while the pleasure wrecked her body. “My god!” 

A cocky smirk played on his lips and Ben grabbed her hips. He lifted her like a doll as he settled back against the seat. Her legs spread around his trim hips and she instinctually sank on his cock, impaling her still throbbing pussy. 

“Fuck, fuck!” She bit her lip and locked her tiny hands around his thick neck, holding on as she began to ride him. 

The threat of her fingers on his pulse was enticing and Ben bucked his hips hard, fucking up into her as she struggled to stay upright. When she crumbled, he held her up, his big hand closing around the nape of her neck and keeping her spine straight. She was truly a ragdoll in his hands: a wet, hot, sexy toy for him to use. 

Y/N shuddered with another orgasm and Ben let go as she tightened around his cock. With a rumbling growl, he came, shooting up into her with a powerful spray that she could almost feel going deep into her core. 

Butcher had one foot out the door. He would have had both out and halfway down the motel hallway if not for Y/N’s hand fixed around his elbow. 

Her fingers dug into the soft leather of his sleeve and he paused, looking down at her. 

A strange mixture of anger and pathetic innocence filled her eyes and Butcher laughed. 

“You’ll be fine, kid. He ain’t gonna bother you none.” 

Y/N groaned. “Please. Just give me something else to do. I can’t stand it anymore. He’s such an asshole. He spent forty minutes this morning talking about Susan Summers and how good the ThighMaster was at tightening her pus-”

Butcher held up a hand, silencing her. 

“I gotcha, but ya need ta realize I got a lotta balls in the air right now and I need that ball under lock and key.” He pointed behind her to the bathroom. The edges of the closed door were glowing as smoke and steam escaped, leaking an odorous marijuana and Old Spice vapor into the room. “And you, darlin’,” he continued, poking Y/N in the chest, “are the lock.” 

She shook her head. “And where’s the fucking key so I can get out of here?” 

Grinning, Butcher shoved her back a pace. He grabbed the door and stepped into the hall, pulling it behind him. “That’d be me.” 

Her fist hit the door and her knuckles bruised instantly. 

“God- fucking- damn it!”

One door closed and the other opened. 

A naked Soldier Boy emerged from a dense fog of spiked steam like Jesus descending back to earth on a cloud. 

Y/N caught herself staring at his dick and shook herself, turning quickly away. 

“You can look,” Ben said, planting his bowed legs wide apart and setting his fists on his hips. “I don’t mind.” 

She gagged dramatically. “No thanks.” 

“Come on,” he urged proudly. “Take it all in. Bask in the glory!” 

“You really are a tremendous piece of trash, aren’t you?” 

With a shrug, he broke pose and went in search of pants.  

“You didn’t seem to mind it last night,” he mused, bending over a bag of random clothing articles. 

Y/N tried not to stare but his tanned skin was glistening with wetness from the shower and the muscles of his back were tight and twitching as he searched. Her eyes fell down his spine, lingered on his ass a moment, and then sank into the thick muscles of his legs. His thighs looked like tree trunks, his calves like branches she could entangle herself in and dangle forever. 

“Yeah, well… I’m an idiot sometimes.” 

Ben fished a pair of soft white boxers from the bag and turned, eyeing her as he toyed with the elastic hem, finding the front. 

“Sometimes?” 

She cleared her throat and narrowed her gaze, pushing every bit of annoyance into her stare. “Fuck off.” 

Ben smirked and tugged on the shorts. “You know, you’d get a lot more attention if you were nicer. Smile more. Be respectful. Put some damned makeup on.” 

Anger sizzled in her gut. “You didn’t seem to mind last night,” she echoed. 

Pressing his tongue between his lips, Ben nodded. “Touché.” 

Time passed slowly. 

Y/N sat at the head of the bed, leaning on the headboard with a bottle of Jim Beam slowly emptying into her.

She stared at Ben despite herself, always looking away, arguing with herself, and then looking back, getting stuck on something about him. His hair was so perfectly long in all the right places, and somehow gorgeously always in place. His beard was thick but soft like he’d been grooming himself for the last forty years. His eyes cut right through her resolve anytime he looked at her. At times she wondered if he had x-ray vision or could see into her soul. 

Still shirtless and refusing to get dressed, Ben paced the room. His bare feet dug into the thin carpet as he walked back and forth, seething with energy. 

“Sit down already!” Y/N yelled. “You’re making me dizzy! You’re like a fucking pendulum going back and forth.” 

Pausing by the door, he grit his teeth and glared. “Give me something to do, then.” 

Y/N shrugged. “If we had anything to do, do you really think I’d be sitting here? With you?” 

Giving up his worn route, Ben took a seat at the little round table in across from the bed and grabbed a wrapping paper. 

“Why do you hate me so much? What’d I ever do to you? Kill your grandmother?” 

“What? No.” Y/N scoffed. “I hate you because…” 

Her thoughts trailed off when her eyes fell on his broad shoulders. They moved languidly as he rolled a giant spliff, muscles rippling under her gaze as if her world had switched to slow motion. 

“Uh…” 

He brought the joint up to his lips and Y/N gasped slightly when his tongue jutted out to wet the seam. 

“You…” 

Green eyes locked onto hers and Y/N felt her pussy throb. 

“I, um…” 

Ben chuckled to himself and twisted the ends of the paper tighter. He sat back in the chair and clicked the lighter Butcher had left him. 

“You know what your real problem is?” he asked, letting the flame grow high before setting it to the end of his cigarette. 

Her heart was pounding, her skin on fire for wanting him. “What’s that?”

“You only want me when you’re high.” 

It was so absurdly true that she laughed out loud. Y/N shook her head and tipped the whiskey back, taking a deep drink. “You’re incredible, you know that? It’s like everyone has to love you but when they don’t, you make some shit up. Nuh-uh. You’re… shut up. I hate you.”  She took another sip for good measure and huffed in his direction. “You suck.” 

Ben licked his lip and took a drag. The exhaled smoke haloed his gorgeous face and Y/N hated every drop of booze in her system. They were all dragging her mind to nasty places that she’d rather not go. 

“It is true,” he argued, blowing a smoke ring high about his head. “And I think you like it.” 

She stiffened. “I do not.” 

“I think you do.” Ben sat forward and pulled in another hit. The drugs flooded his brain and he smiled happily. A few moments of bliss before trauma struck again. “I think you need it.” 

“Need what?” 

She watched with building lust as Ben stood up and walked to the foot of the bed. With the fag balanced on his thick bottom lip, he crawled onto the mattress and moved towards her. 

“You need the release,” he explained, hand over hand moving closer. “You need to be high so you can forgive yourself for wanting me.” 

Her heart skipped when he reached her feet. He was right and she hated it. He was terrible and she loved it. He was right there and she wanted him. 

“And honestly, toots- if that’s what you need, that’s fine with me.” Sitting back on his heels, Ben offered her the joint. “Go on. Smoke the guilt away.” 

As if moving in a dream, she took the pot from him and pressed the wet end to her lips. He held her gaze as she inhaled, set his hand upon her ankle while she closed her eyes, and slid it higher when the smoke billowed around them. 

“There’s a girl…” 

Whiskey and cannibus swarmed her senses and Y/N ran a finger down the middle of his chest. He was smooth and firm and covered in constellations of pale freckles. She leaned forward as he bent down and her lips caught his left nipple. He hissed when she sucked hard. 

“Damn…” 

Y/N looked up innocently while dragging her hand down lower. It brushed against the base of his cock and he sucked in a quick breath. 

“Another,” he urged, pushing the joint back up to her mouth. Her lips parted and she breathed deeply. “So fucking hot…” 

Eyes fluttering and thoughts swimming, Y/N gave in and reached into his shorts. She fit her fingers into a tight circle and stroked down the length of his cock, waking him up fully and making his chest expand with heavy breaths. 

“Fuck…” 

She grinned when he cursed; drooled as his head fell back with a pleasured moan. “More?” 

Ben dipped his chin and chewed at his lip, nodding. “Oh yeah.” 

Another hit did her in and Y/N shifted onto her knees. She pressed up against him and licked at his lips before shoving the joint between them. Ben breathed deeply and the cloud rose around them as she kissed her way down his body. She opened her mouth and lay it over his erection, breathing out, hot and heavy. He shuddered and his ass clenched. 

“Fucking hell…” 

Feeling somewhat outside of herself, Y/N looked up with hungry eyes and hooked her fingers into his waistband. “Oh, just wait,” she whispered, tugging his shorts down to his knees. “It’s my turn to give…” 

She licked at the tip of his cock and sucked a wet kiss over the groove underside. Falling fully onto her hands and knees, Y/N teased him with her lips, running her mouth up and down his shaft until he was bouncing on her tongue, fully engorged and leaking. 

“We need to keep you stoned off your ass twenty-four-seven,” he mused, halfway between a moan and a whimper. 

Y/N pulled back and gently rubbed his sack. “Why don’t you get more comfy?”

Ben cocked a brow and grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”

He turned and fell onto the bed, taking up her old spot against the headboard. She fit perfectly between his knees and went right back to work, shoving her hot mouth down his cock. She gagged and he groaned. She slurped and he yanked at her hair. She swallowed and he pushed her face down as far as she could go. 

“Now this- this is fucking fantastic.” 

Ben took a deep drag and blew the smoke down into Y/N’s face. She inhaled and her eyes rolled back, deeply aroused and stupidly high. 

She used her whole body to pleasure him. She scrapped her nails down his sensitive inner thighs, swirling her tongue over his sack, rubbed his cock between her tits. Her ass wiggled and her pussy dripped, throbbing and so close to cumming from simply sucking him off.

When she slowed, he bucked his hips. When she choked, he pushed her down further. When she shuddered with an unexpected orgasm, he egged her on with gravelly moans and curses that stunted her thoughts.

“Gonna drown you in cum, sweetheart,” he grunted, straining to hold still while she worked her magic. 

Y/N hummed rapturously, daring him to do it, to murder her with his release.  

Ben lay his hand flat on the back of her head and gently held her there. He was ready to explode and he wanted her to stay and swallow every single drop. 

When the door opened, he was mildly surprised, but unwilling to stop. He jerked his hips up into her pliant mouth and Y/N squirmed between his legs. 

“Holy fuck! Come on!” Hughie quickly shielded his eyes, but the damage was done. Y/N was sucking Soldier Boy’s dick like a porn star while the hero smirked like a moron. 

“Hey! It’s Baby Hughie!” Ben tapped Y/N on the head, but she refused to stop. She was enjoying the slick slide of his cock over her tongue too much to give it up. 

Hughie shook his head and turned away. “Y/N! What the fuck!”

Ben laughed before a tight groan worked its way through his chest. “Don’t get pissed at her,” he warned. “She’s a fucking expert cocksucker.” 

Y/N swallowed hard and his thighs shook. 

Hughie gagged visibly. “I’m gonna- this is- gross.” 

Taking one last hit of the dying joint, Ben narrowed his gaze on the lanky man shadowing the doorway. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said honestly. “Did you wanna get down on this?” He held out his hand, offering both the drugs and Y/N’s ass. 

Shocked, Hughie shook his head. “What? No!” His cheeks burned bright pink and Ben laughed. 

“Come on, ya pussy. I’m sure she won’t mind…” 

Y/N voiced her opinion with a harsh scrape of teeth down his cock. 

Ben hissed at the pain and shrugged at Hughie. “Sorry. It appears she does mind.” 

Taking a deep breath, Y/N pushed her face into the soft patch of hair around his pelvis and Ben lost his mind. He gripped her hair tight and pulsed his hips in quick, short thrusts.

Hughie gawked at the scene and then struggled to leave. He spun in place and grabbed the doorknob, unable to turn it and escape with quaking hands and blurry eyes. 

Y/N could feel Ben’s need throbbing on her tongue and she pulled back for a second to scold her friend. 

“Get out already!” she shouted, shooing Hughie off with a wave of her spit-soaked hand. 

Ben called her back, grabbing her cheeks in one big hand and pinching her lips into a tight circle. “Oh, he’s leaving,” he told her, guiding her mouth back to his throbbing cock. “Or he’s gonna see some things he can’t forget.”   

Hughie slammed the door behind him and braced himself against the wall. His head fell back with a thud and he struggled to wipe the memory clear. He didn’t care that Y/N had lied about fucking Soldier Boy, but seeing her blitzed and working his cock was more than Hughie could take. An old “Say No To Drugs” poster from grade school flashed through his thoughts and he cringed. 

When Ben’s orgasmic roar flooded out into the hallway, Hughie booked it, strangely looking forward to spending the night alone in the car.