#I should wear her to cons more often | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

merakiui · 1 year ago

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boyfriend.

yandere!female!riddle rosehearts x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, obsession, implied (cyber)stalking, cheating, dub-con, alcohol/intoxication, characters written as 18+ note - riddle seeks to prune the filthy weeds from your life, starting with your ill-mannered boyfriend. // inspired by dove cameron's boyfriend.

i. i can’t believe we’re finally alone. i can’t believe i almost went home. what are the chances? everyone’s dancing, and he’s not with you.

Riddle has never traveled to this part of the city before—the seedy, unsavory sliver overshadowed by towering skyscrapers, illicit, perilous secrets tucked away in every alley. It’s not as if she’s here under duress. Although if you were to frame it from her perspective, it would feel less like an active, consensual choice and more of a you’ve-forced-my-hand choice. It’s blatant rule-breaking all the same, a stain on her delicate character. Blight on her shiny social status as a golden child, forever marked as the obedient one.

She’s lived her rebellious streak, was punished swiftly and accordingly, and strived to be better in the aftermath. It was one thing to slip out during independent study, and that fun had been trampled upon by a cruel, heeled foot. That was a child’s error. A lesson learned. A valid reason to sever all distractions and improve academically, consequently maturing with sharp, sparkling intelligence and abysmal social skills.

But Riddle is no longer that starry-eyed, impressionable child, and she does not make the same mistake twice.

Or so she’s always believed, but she’s willing to risk an unforgiving tongue-lashing and life imprisonment at the hands of her mother if it means she can fix things. No matter how she spins it, the truth remains the same: She’s fallen back on an old habit, sneaking out and keeping secrets. She’s an open book to Trey, though, who she’d taken care to message on the train ride into the city, her text mostly cryptic: Should anything happen, this is where I’ll be. It’s wrong to skirt around the truth, especially when it’s your closest friend. She knows this, but then she also knows Trey gives terribly good advice. The type of terribly good advice you often don’t want to hear.

Advice like: “You need to let her go.”

And Riddle can’t—won’t.

So she steps into the digital footprints left by that brash, brutish party animal you lovingly call your boyfriend, and she follows the string of social media posts like a diligent detective, flicking through each with manicured fingernails. She commits them to memory so that they remain imprinted in her mind before they’ll eventually expire at the twenty-four hour mark.

In the days leading up to tonight, Cater had taken her out for their usual self-care makeover day, which was really just a day dedicated to dressing up and gossiping at the salon. It was a monthly arrangement, and it kept the both of them entertained and sane. The latter of those two was called into question when Riddle, wholly out of character, selected black nail polish for her mani-pedi, which left Cater looking on with brewing curiosity. She gazed at him, pouty lips upturned slyly, and said, “I thought I’d give red a temporary break.”

“Oh, but red is so your color!” he insisted, raising his phone to capture both of them in frame.

Riddle smiled at the camera. “I know.”

It has always been her color, a staple in her closet. It’s a favorite she can never truly shake, hence why it stains her lips instead. Bright like arterial blood, a blossoming carnation, it stands out starkly on her pale countenance—the only splotch of color on her person. Cater took her shopping when he’d learned she was attempting to fit a new style into her wardrobe of prim, modest clothes. They ran up and down the racks, grinning at each other from across the store and holding up sweaters and skirts, weighing whether either would suit Riddle’s night out. In the end, she settled for the outfit she wears now: a red tube top, a cropped puffer jacket, a pencil skirt that doesn’t pass the fingertip test (not that she cares to follow that rule), tights, and knee-high heeled boots. To finish the look, she’s pulled her hair from its usual plaits, allowing it to cascade down her back like a crimson waterfall. Fingerless lace gloves adorn her hands, stitched with intricate patterns of roses and thorns.

Cater called it the Femme Fatale Friday fit. It’s a Saturday night, but it feels like Friday when she peers at her reflection in a pocket mirror, checking her makeup once more.

She will not make the same mistake twice. She’s a paragon of perfection—Riddle Rosehearts, for seven’s sake!

Stuffing the mirror into a matching handbag, she eyes the skyscraper looming before her, sleek with its metal framework and industrial glass. The bright cityscape reflects off of each window, dazzling with luminous specks of light. She considers the contents in her purse, reviews each with a critical eye, and inhales a steadying breath.

This is necessary.

She’s an adult now, nearly finished with her graduate studies. She lives on her own in a quaint, pet-friendly apartment with her hedgehog, and she works part-time at the café down the street, putting forth her best effort as she weathers the woes of university. Despite all of this independence, she doesn’t feel like an adult.

Not when she can hear her mother in the back of her head: You look ridiculous. Come home right now before you make a fool of yourself and sully my good name.

Riddle scowls at the concrete, curling her fingers into fists.

She’s an adult now. She is not her mother’s doll.

Leaving all hostility and self-doubt at the door, she steps through the lobby and beelines for the lift. It carries her to her destination—one of the highest floors. A penthouse suite.

And not just any penthouse suite. Floyd Leech’s penthouse suite.

Under normal circumstances, she would never willingly set foot in his territory. She survived four years of school with him, which was already a sickening amount, and in that time she watched him glide through his undergraduate with just barely passing grades. That wasn’t enough to stoke the red-hot embers of envy, though. It only made him seem even more like a cockroach, unable to be crushed by the weight of scholarly responsibilities, for he never took anything seriously.

For that reason, Riddle has never envied Floyd. But by the end of their third year, he had something Riddle didn’t.

He had you.

How he managed to settle into a relationship when all he did was slack off, party, and break the rules was beyond Riddle. He was a slippery delinquent, hardly deserving of your sweet affections, and yet you looked at him like he was the only one on the planet. Just where was the appeal? His manner of dress is sloppy. The way he carries himself is unpalatable and crude. The way he acts suggests his insipience is incurable. Even when he applies himself, he is still Floyd and that doesn’t clean his slate or shine his reputation. So in Riddle’s discerning eyes, he does not possess a scintilla of romantic appeal.

You don’t seem to agree with these sentiments, for you’ve been with Floyd for four long years.

Love is blinding, but Riddle has never been in love before and so she doesn’t have adequate data to prove this point. It was forbidden in her home. She’s only allowed to love the men her mother handpicks, plucking each specimen like they’re ripened strawberries from a bush. In the beginning she found all manner of minor details to excuse them from her life, insisting upon a nonexistent list of impossibly high standards. He was too tall. He was too forward with his interest. He wore contrasting colors. He didn’t like tea. These reasons were far too critical and childish, and each man had been sent away in a huff. Her mother would scold her, halving her with a nasty glare: “Are you planning to die alone?”

Yes, Riddle realized by the twentieth admonishment, yet another man cast aside. If dying alone means romantic freedom in life, I’ll do just that.

The elevator spits her out into the hall, which isn’t as silent as she thought it’d be. Bass shakes through the walls, reverberating all the way through her ribs as if it intends to stir up her organs. She catches her reflection in the windows, noting the dark, monstrous scowl, and smooths her face into something courageous. She means business as she clicks down the hall, preparing herself for the whirlwind that undoubtedly waits behind the door. Riddle starts to wonder how Floyd’s neighbors have yet to file a noise complaint and then stops, her thoughts cutting off abruptly. It’s a challenge to make complaints when your father holds parts of the city’s underground in his palms.

He’s got it easy, that spoiled pest.

Riddle’s gait slows to a halt and she reaches out to knock thrice. The door is thrown open before she can even bring her fist down. Soon she’s staring at a rosy-cheeked stranger, whose eyes trace her figure like he’s trying to paint her on his mental canvas. She’s prepared for the worst, having tucked the spray in her bag, its container disguised to look like lipstick. The strawberry keychain hanging from her purse is a self-defense alarm, ready to be pulled at a moment’s notice. His ogling does not frighten her, nor do his intentions, if he can even harbor any in that intoxicated brain of his. She’s braved scarier horrors. Like living out years of her life with her mother.

“Heyyy, you one of Floyd’s girls? Here for the party?”

Riddle suppresses the disgusted shiver threatening to crawl up her spine, swallowing bile. “Just the party.”

She is no one’s girl. Definitely not Floyd’s.

When she’s let inside and the stench of sweat and alcohol assault her nostrils, coupled with the too-loud party music, she considers retreating, her mother’s judgment echoing: You look ridiculous. Her fingers twitch towards her purse. One text and Trey would pick her up. One call and Cater would be on his way. But then she’d be forced to tell them the truth—would have to admit that she’s chasing the one person she can never have.

She hardens her resolve, pushes through the throng of bodies in an effort to find refreshments, and there you are, her perfect, pretty wallflower in a perfect, pretty silver dress. The dim neon lighting casts you in a luscious pink haze, and she watches you scroll through your phone, your eyelids falling and opening. You’re so beautiful—the sweetest thing she’s ever seen, more saccharine than a truckload of strawberry tarts. Her hand slides away from her purse, and she tamps down a gleeful smile, stepping over to you with newfound confidence.

“(Name)?”

You turn your whole body towards her, your gaze unfocused. She can smell the liquor on you, can see the hickeys not quite covered by a velvet choker. Her gaze narrows. He’s all over you, isn’t he? From top to bottom, you are covered in traces of him. Her nose scrunches. Just what do you see in him?

It should be her teeth on your skin, tearing it open, bruising it, tasting slick copper on her tongue. It should have always been her, but it’s not. Why did you have to settle for less when you’re entitled to so much more?

You peer at her like she’s something in a museum, perplexing and abstract. And then it clicks. You gasp, your mouth falling open in awe, and your words come out horribly slurred. She fails to hide her wince when you throw your arms around her, hanging off of her like a tote on a shoulder.

“Riddle! You…seriously showed up… Can’t believe it’s really you. It feels like it’s been forever.” You pull away, swaying with the motion, and place your hands on her arms. “Your outfit is suuuper cute.”

She’s blushing. She knows she is because her face is burning with heat and suddenly it’s much too stifling in here. “Oh. Ah, um, t-thank you very much… You look very nice, too.”

Really? Is that the best thing I could say? ‘You look very nice’? Honestly, Riddle…

But you smile, and the sight steals her heart all over again. You can have it. By all means take her heart. Take it and love it to pieces. That way it will be fair when she takes yours. An even exchange in accordance with the rules of love.

Or maybe it’s more so the rules of romantic warfare, carried out to the extreme on a chessboard. Or a croquet court. Something sporty and metaphorical, anyway.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” she asks, refusing to say his name lest she speak him into existence and tarnish her near-perfect evening.

Her question strikes a chord within you, and you heave an exaggerated sigh. You cross your arms over your chest, leaning against the wall for support. “Left me to go hang with the guys. S’not fair!” you whine, sliding further down until you’re sitting in a defeated heap.

Riddle bends down to your height, her tone as soft and sympathetic as her expression. “Does he always do this?”

Hurt flashes across your face, but you don’t say anything. So he does. Why is she not surprised?

Who in the world leaves their partner at a party, vulnerable and alone? Riddle thinks, anger flaring up in her chest. Someone could take advantage of you. You’re in no state to be standing here by yourself. That fool… He doesn’t know how to treat a lady at all. How have you put up with him for four years? Your patience amazes me.

“It’s not like…” You shut your eyes and rest your head against the wall. “Not like an always-happening thing…”

Riddle isn’t going to sugarcoat it. She wants her words to cut deep, all the way to the heart you’ve allowed Floyd to bind. “Whether or not he does it often, the fact still stands that he left you intoxicated in the corner of this room. That’s careless and unsafe.” She tilts her head, admiring the way you’ve done your makeup, the way your plush lips jut out in a miserable pout. And it just rushes out, words she’s thought but never had the courage to say. At least, not to the sober you. “I wouldn’t do that to you. You deserve so much better.”

Like me, she almost adds, but that’s too direct. And she’s not even sure the admission will land when you’re so out of it.

“Appreciate it…” You scrub your face, groaning. “Ugh. I feel sick…”

“Would you like to get some fresh air?”

You shake your head, stubborn to a fault. “Can’t. Gotta wait for Floyd.”

Riddle frowns. “I highly doubt he’s coming back anytime soon.”

“Still.”

“At the very least, let’s get you some water.” She offers her hand, hoping and praying to the heavens above that you’ll take it.

You do. It’s a flawless fit. Her heart flutters, weightless and feathery, when her fingers close around yours. She wonders what moisturizer you use, what sort of lotions kiss your skin. Are they scented, or is that just your perfume? Or have you done away with perfume for tonight and is that a natural fragrance? Or maybe it’s the sweet scent of a fruity wine, printed on your tongue like a delicious tattoo.

She wants to kiss you.

“Just how much have you had to drink?”

“Like a cup or two? I…dunno. Does it matter?”

You stumble when she helps you up, grabbing at her shoulder for support. Riddle almost falls back, but the wall braces her. You place your palm right by her head, and suddenly you’re leaning in, inadvertently pinning her to the wall. Her pupils nearly eclipse her blue-grey irises, and her breath sticks in her throat. Oh, you’re so close. You’re a drunken mess, pushing yourself up against her, your beauty enveloping her like a chrysalis. If this is a dream, she never wants to wake, for the world that awaits her beyond this is cold and colorless.

Your head lowers to the dip between shoulder and neck, and she gazes heavenward. The ceiling is much nicer at this moment, if only so she can clear her own heady haze of impure thoughts.

There are people about, she has to remind herself, shaking off the urge to close her fingers around your chin and tilt your head up to meet her mouth. And she has a boyfriend. Just because I can doesn’t mean I should.

But the chance is much too beguiling. You’re right here, quite literally within her reach, and Floyd’s nowhere in sight. It’s too perfect. She can’t quite wrap you in an affectionate embrace—though that is an irresistible urge she must fight off—so she settles to rub circles into your back instead, dutifully reflecting the role of a concerned friend. It’s not the part she wishes to play. Rather, she’d gladly take on the title of boyfriend if it meant you’d feel loved. Every day, at every hour, for the rest of your life. She’d do all the things Floyd ought to do: care for you, appreciate you, protect you, stay by your side through thick and thin.

Love is a dangerous, thorny thing, but it’s the encroaching jealousy that kills.

Floyd doesn’t deserve you. If anything, he deserves a mouth full of soap to scrub every profanity he’s ever uttered. Just what does he tell you in bed? That you’re a good girl? That you’re soooo tight? That you can take it? Does he know which ways you like it? Does he know where to touch so you’ll unravel faster? Does he know how to get you properly, thoroughly worked up, so much so that it feels like your skin is aflame with potent want and desire?

Does he even know your anatomy, or are you simply a body for his avaricious appetite?

Like roses twining possessively around a trellis, Riddle holds you close in her arms, her hand sweeping across your lower back. Her glacial eyes scan the crowd, warding off anyone who may be curious with her most malevolent death stare.

“Mm… I need to lie down. My head is…spinning…”

With that, the murderous, overprotective haze sticking to Riddle like a poisonous fog dissipates. A sickly sweet smile widens on ruby-red lips. “Let’s find someplace quiet.”

Together, the two of you stagger-walk out of the room, leaving the party and its inhabitants behind. Crossing through the attached kitchenette, Riddle pilfers a bottled water from the fridge.

Her mind is sharp as a cut diamond. Her skin prickles with anticipation.

Down the hall you go, with Riddle supporting you with what minimal physical strength she has. A door looms before the both of you, cast in a comfortable glow from a neighboring skyscraper, and you struggle to pull your heels off while she pushes the door open. It reveals a messy room, clothing and candy wrappers strewn about sloppily.

Riddle feels like she’s on top of the world, and she is. Up in the clouds on the forty-third floor of this luxurious penthouse apartment.

ii. i could be a better boyfriend than him. i could do the shit that he never did. up all night, i won’t quit.

All throughout her undergraduate, Riddle pined. Hopelessly. Forlornly. Desperately.

Hungrily.

It was unbecoming to want something to such an obsessive degree. She buried herself in her studies to do away with lustful delusions, each more distracting than the last. But then you would crop up in her life when she least expected it and soon the two of you were studying together. Soon you were visiting her dorm to watch movies during the times in which she allowed herself the break (and she only did so because it was you). Soon you were spending nights in her room, sleeping sprawled on the floor even though she offered her bed time and time again. You’d get ready in the mornings, debating what the breakfast menu would entail. She’d watch your reflection in the floor mirror as you pulled your shirt up and over your head, eyeing the way you slid seamlessly into a lacy black bra. And then she’d change out of her nightgown, and you’d comment on her undergarments.

“We should go shopping sometime. You gotta get cuter stuff!”

“Why should I? No one’s going to see it,” she insisted with a flustered huff.

“I’ll see it the next time I sleep over,” you told her, smiling innocently as you stepped into a blue handkerchief skirt. “Besides, there are so many cute sets you could wear. You’d look so pretty in something red and frilly. You’re totally missing out.”

Riddle considered it back then. Your eager eyes had almost won her over, but she was firm in her decision. “I’m fine with what I have now.”

And the conversation ended there. She really wishes you would have pushed it back then because just a little nudge in that direction and she would have given in, entirely at your mercy.

Selfishly, she just yearned to be stuck in a changing stall with you.

All throughout her undergraduate, Riddle fostered a special sort of friendship with you. You’d stop by her dorm during finals to insist she take a break, your offer too tempting. She’s always been weak to sweets. You were close enough to exchange intimate details with one another. She listened to all of your dating woes, and conversely you’d sit still and bear witness to her ramblings about fascinating law facts. Sometimes she’d rant about her mother. You always listened. “She sounds like she sucks,” you said once. “How are you even related to her? You’re so nice.”

It was a pleasant three years. If she deluded herself enough, she could have pretended you were her girlfriend and then she’d have something to tell her mother to put an end to the countless attempts at scoring her a husband. I will never marry any of your options, she would think, playing the confrontation out in her head. I have a partner now and we’re very happy together. Sometimes Riddle imagined her mother tossing darts at a board with photographs of men attached to it, disregarding compatibility altogether in favor of upholding traditional rules. But then Riddle realized she’d have to die before she could ever admit her own romantic freedoms to her mother, and so that conversation only ever came about in daydreams.

I’d rather die alone than live life shackled in a loveless marriage. She wonders if her father thought the same.

Those three years had been a wonderful reality, filled with sugared, candy-coated love. A one-sided love, sure. But Riddle could settle for platonic affections, for that was just as sweet.

And then he arrived at the doorstep to Riddle’s fantasy cottage, kicking the walls down and sweeping you off your feet.

Floyd Leech has always been a nuisance. You were there to shoo him away every time he came knocking, all broad grins and vexatious jeers. He listened to you most days, a mutt without proper leashing, oddly loyal to you. As if you were his keeper of sorts. Riddle was amazed, befuddled, and worried all at once. Unlike her, you could keep your cool, could still smile so kindly even when Floyd was being an utter pain in the ass with his foolish nicknames. When he tried to pluck Riddle’s hairpin from out of her braids—a handmade gift you had given her for her birthday—she slapped him hard across the face and hissed, “Don’t ever put your filthy paws on me again.”

And maybe it was because you were there that she was able to recover shortly after the outburst. (Although she still meant that slap with every fiber of her being.) Maybe you were her collar. Maybe you were her keeper. Maybe she was meant to meet you so that you could color her world, lead her along into the friendship she’d been robbed of as a child.

Looking back, Riddle realizes that was the catalyst. Because when Floyd cradled his bright-red cheek, giggling like a maniac, you asked him, “Don’t you have anything better to do? Can’t you bother someone else?”

And then you were made the prime target.

What’s worse is that you reveled in it, adored every ounce of attention Floyd gave you like it was something holy, later admitting to Riddle during a movie marathon that you “wondered if Floyd was seeing anyone.” She wanted to retch. You, a seraph incarnate, with a devil like Floyd? Impossible. But your tone was so whimsical; you were dreaming of it. You liked him.

She couldn’t believe it. Didn’t want to believe it.

By the end of her third year, just as finals gave way to summer, you threw your arms around Floyd’s neck while he pressed you up against the trunk of a flowering tree. Pink petals fluttered to the ground, and with the falling blossoms came Riddle’s hope, crashing and burning in a heartbroken heap.

She won’t make the same mistake twice, which is precisely why, when you flop onto Floyd’s unmade bed, she turns the lock to keep all outside influences away. The party is but a mere muffle now, thrumming through the floorboards with reckless abandon.

Her nose wrinkles at the pile of dirty laundry. Slob, she thinks, brimming with hate. What does she see in you? You’re a mess, you’re definitely a criminal, you can’t keep a stable job, you throw obnoxious parties every other week, you leave your own girlfriend unattended… What part of that is appealing? She gazes at you next. You’re too good for him, (Name). You can do so much better. Raise your standards. Find someone respectable and attentive. Someone who’ll stay with you forever. Someone who won’t let you get stupidly drunk and then run off to Queen-knows-where.

“Someone like me,” she mutters.

You have to be coerced into drinking, and you’re so sleepy that the water dribbles down your chin. Riddle tuts at you, swiping the liquid away with her sleeve.

“You’re a mess,” she says, affectionate despite the barb.

You’re my mess.

She slides your heels off, casting them elsewhere. You look like a starfish when you lay sprawled, or maybe you’re more like a snow angel. Only rather than snow, you imprint yourself amongst wrinkled sheets. Riddle knows it’s wrong, but you’re right here. She’s waited so many years for a moment like this one.

It’s not fair.

She unzips her boots, kicks them off, and stands at the edge of the bed, locked in a fierce debate. You should have thrown your arms around her that day. You should have kissed her, should have spent the last four years with her, should have stayed in her life like the permanent fixture you were destined to be. She’s never wanted anything more than this. Not even a surplus of strawberry tarts. Not even the dreams she’s working tirelessly towards achieving. She’s only ever wanted you.

But Floyd took you away, and her world has never been the same since.

The mattress dips under her weight; she’s made up her mind.

“Do you remember the promise we made?” she whispers, running her hands up your legs. You lift your head to look at her, eyes glassy with inebriated exhaustion. “The one in which we’d live together after graduation? You said you’d want to live somewhere pet-friendly so we could get hedgehogs and name them Tweedledee and Tweedledum.”

You hum, your lashes fluttering.

“We could still do that. Just you and me. Without your boyfriend.”

“What?”

Her fingers catch on the waistband of your panties. “Hm?”

“Mm, no, nothing… You should get going. It’s late…” “Someone has to look after you.”

“Floyd can.”

She presses her thumbs into your hips and the tiniest gasp leaves your parted lips. “But Floyd’s not.”

“He will.”

“He won’t,” she snaps. Something flickers in your eyes, a flash of unrest. Riddle chews her lower lip. “He’s… (Name), what do you see in him? Honestly, truly, what is it? Please educate me. Please… What does he have that I don’t? What makes you stay?”

“Cuz he’s my boyfriend,” you mutter slowly, perplexed, “and I love him.”

“Do you?”

“Riddle, why are you so…” The words fizzle out on your tongue when her touch strays too close to home. “Wait… We can’t… Not in here.”

“Why not? It’s just one more mess. He won’t even notice.”

“That’s not it… Riddle, wait. I… I don’t like you in that—”

She collapses, anchoring herself to you, her manicured nails digging deep into your arms. And then her mouth is on yours, clumsy and uncoordinated. She doesn’t want to hear it—can’t bear to hear it. She knows the truth. It’s haunted her from the day she met you, a shadow looming like a guillotine’s blade. You were fated to be forever out of reach. Just like those strawberry tarts in the bakery window. The kiss is filthy, all desire and zero skill. Her tongue flashes into your mouth. It’s nothing like the way they describe it in fiction or portray it in films. It’s obscene. Sinful. Libidinous. Her lipstick smears; she tastes the wine in your throat, licks your teeth and nibbles your lip, delicate and gruesome all at once. She tries her best, unyielding.

The technique doesn’t matter. Not now, anyway. It’s just blind, unrequited passion. She’ll learn it eventually and when she does she’ll kiss you drunk. It’s just another thing she’ll master. And she will because that’s just who she is. Give her a textbook and she’ll have it memorized. Give her a kiss and she’ll return to practice it to perfection.

She pulls away, panting, her lipstick in disarray. It’s all over you, smudging on the corners of your mouth. Running a hand through her hair, her figure outlined in the tantalizing glow from the city lights, she licks her lips.

“Riddle…”

Spoken soft like prayer, it’s a whisper she’ll treasure. Over and over, without end, repeat it like a mantra.

“Riddle, please…”

“He doesn’t know anything about your preferences, does he?” Your dress is slid up next. She traces a heart into your bare stomach, capturing your navel in invisible lines. You shudder under her touch, grabbing at her wrist with a limp hand. She brings it up to her lips and presses a chaste kiss to the top of it. “I know you much better than he does. I always have.”

To prove it, she presses two fingers to your clothed pussy. You whine, reedy and high-pitched. “But…”

“I read it takes fourteen minutes for women to reach their end during partnered sex.” She levels you with a half-lidded stare, smirking. What she lacks in skill, she makes up for in raw confidence. “I’ll only need less than that, so you won’t have to feign anything for my sake. I know you well enough, my rose.”

A wide range of emotions waltzes across your countenance. Your arm falls over your face next. It’s defeat or hesitant acceptance, but to Riddle it’s love.

“Ten minutes,” you whisper, conceding. “And then…you need to leave.”

She makes you cum in just five, covers you in lipstick prints, each kiss a sly cover-up. Floyd may be all over you, bites and bruises blooming new and old, but he’s not inside you, wringing you out like a sodden towel. You sob like you’re in heat when she sinks her fingers into your slick warmth, scissoring so slowly, until you’re begging her to make you cum again. Your fluids soak through the sheets. The scent of sex and sweat hangs heavy in the air. She’s alive, wildly untamed, a knight who’s just rescued the princess and slayed a bloodthirsty dragon.

Her head is between your thighs next, her hands braced on either leg to keep them apart. You watch her with glazed eyes, soon throwing your head back when she slides your hood up to reveal your pretty, pert clit. Experimentally, she licks a teasing stripe up your slit. You shiver and dig your fingers into her scalp, imprisoning her there. It’s where she’s always wanted to be.

“Tell me,” she murmurs, the words fanning across your pussy, “if he’s so good, why haven’t you proven it? Is this the most you’ve ever cum in a night? Does he please you or do you please him? If he’s everything you’ve ever wanted, why are you still so unsatisfied?”

“Because… B-Because!”

Your protests are fragmented and spotted with gasps. That’s arguably more telling than a detailed response.

Riddle smiles like a Cheshire, her eyes narrowed victoriously. Spidery digits creep along your thighs. Her thumbs dip into your pussy, spreading it wide for her viewing pleasure. “Don’t think of him. Tonight, it’s just you and me. I’ll give you what you’re owed. That and so much more.”

Like a fragile statue, you topple. Right into her, bucking against her mouth like the world is ending, and she’s there to steady you.

She always is.

iii. i’m gonna steal you from him. i could be such a gentleman. plus, you know my clothes would fit.

“Sooo… Gimme the goss. How was your night out?”

Riddle looks up from an assortment of nail polish colors, each one more red than the last, and says, “It was more enjoyable than I thought.”

“Yeah?” Cater prompts, brows raised. “Don’t be so vague! I wanna know all the juicy details. It’s rare for you to stay out so late. And to go to a party, of all things, in the city? Hello?! New Riddle, who’s this?”

“I was only meeting an old friend.”

“That’s what they all say.”

The technician asks her to pick a color. “This one,” she says, pointing. “The one named Sanguine Sunrise.”

“You’re totes keeping me in the dark!” Cater whines, dramatic. “At least give Cay-Cay some hints! Something! Anything! Spare change, please?”

Riddle smiles smugly. Pride drips from every syllable when she speaks next. “My friend will be spending this Valentine’s Day alone.”

“Bummer.”

“Not quite. She’ll have me and half-priced chocolates. A rather charming combination, no?”

Cater laughs. “GL. I’m rooting for you.”

You don’t need to, she thinks, tracing the love bite stamped into her skin, hidden under the soft fabric of her blouse. Because I’m already winning.

Her phone buzzes with a text: about last night… if i did anything weird, i’m so sorry. i was way too drunk.

Riddle turns it over, dips her feet in the heated water, and settles into the massage chair, pleased as a peach. “It was one bad decision. Four years of bad decisions, but it’s forgiven. We all make silly mistakes when we’re lovestruck. Hopefully her silly mistake disappears for good and we never have to speak of him again.”

“You’re so scary, Riddle. Remind me to never get on your bad side.”

Another message arrives: i think we might’ve kissed last night. i’m really super sorry.

There’s a brief delay.

ok this is gonna sound weird coming from me but maybe we can do it again??? floyd’s kisses are sorta… :/

Her phone vibrates for the final time that afternoon.

actually i’m just gonna stop talking omg i’m crazy. i have a bf and everything. sorry riddle please ignore all of this kk tysm ttyl <3

wait one more text before i forget,, if you wanna meet up for tea i wouldn’t mind. we should definitely catch up when i’m not hungover. kk bye fr this time <3

A start is a start. You can’t grow a rose tree without first planting a seed.

#yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere riddle rosehearts x reader #yandere riddle rosehearts #yandere riddle #yandere riddle x reader #n/sfw #tw: dubcon

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writergeekrhw · 14 days ago

Note

There's a Reddit screenshot going around (including here on Tumblr, Wil Wheaton reblogged a post about it) where a Trump supporter got whiny that at the Vegas convention this year, a couple of the Voyager actors were asked about their political beliefs by a fan, and they answered by praising Kamala Harris and condemning Trump and Trump supporters. This person on Reddit (not the same person who asked the politics question at the con) was upset because they felt they and their friends "learned that 7 of 9 hates them" and they were roundly made fun of for expecting that a Star Trek convention wouldn't contain anything that contradicts their MAGA beliefs given that, you know, it's such a progressive show where the future is LITERALLY luxury space communism, and where it has always spoken in favor of diversity.

This led to a bigger discussion about the place of politics in fandom spaces. I personally would understand not talking about electoral politics if we were in a normal election, like Obama vs. Romney, even though the Republicans even then advocated a lot of things that I think is at odds with what Star Trek says. But I don't think people who voted for them were necessarily hateful. I don't think they are people I can't share fandom with, you know? We can be friends. But I think with Trump people are hateful, or at the very least they're okay with hate, given how often he spews it and encourages it in his supporters. I'm a lesbian and I absolutely do feel less safe around people who wear MAGA hats in a way I just didn't around Romney or McCain or Bush supporters. My opinion personally is that it's probably a mistake and what got us to where we are today (sending this in late September 2024, where Harris is slightly up in the polls but it's still very close and Republicans are trying to ratfuck the vote in a bunch of swing states - maybe by the time you answer, the election will be over and we'll know?) that we didn't do enough to recognize that Trump support is either bigotry, or support for bigotry, in a way that should be socially unacceptable and treated as such. That we should have deployed more social shaming over it, especially in places that should be understood to be safe spaces for diverse groups of people, like the fandom of a series like Star Trek.

I was wondering what you thought about this topic. Personally, while I don't think American electoral politics need to be in every aspect of a convention, finding out that actors who played characters I like, writers who wrote shows I love, etc. are supportive of my basic civil rights, not just in broad platitudes but also in how they vote, is really heartening and makes me feel more "welcomed" in fandom. It makes me feel safer there. And the fact that Trump supporters feel excluded also makes it a safer space IMO, because I don't feel safe around those people. I have Republican friends - but none of them who have voted for Trump.

I commented on that while I was still on Xitter. I honestly worry Trump may pose an existential threat to our democracy. I think others feel similarly. I suspect Jeri Ryan, who's seen the rot inside the GOP firsthand, has particularly strong feelings about that as well. So it's no surprise she chose to speak out before the election. And it's certainly her right.

I think it's a bit silly for fans of a franchise that has a strong progressive POV to feel alienated when the artists involved in said franchise embrace its philosophy and choose to take a stand for it.

I worry for us all over the next four years, but the voters have spoken. We'll see how it goes.

#tv writing #ask me anything #ask me stuff #star trek #politics

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baronessvonglitter · 17 days ago

Text

Law of Attraction ~ Chapter 4

Rom Con AU divorce lawyer!Dave York x fem!Reader

Word count: 2,759

Summary: You and Dave naturally become closer in a friendship comprised of two lonely people.

WARNINGS: Rated T. No smut, but there is brief mention of a fantasy (nothing described). Dave is a capital S - Simp! No physical infidelity but definitely an emotional affair. Fluff. Idiots falling in love and they don't even know it yet. No use of y/n.

Author's note: I wanted to give these two some more time together to let their romance blossom. They keep going on dates that are not dates but are totally dates. I want to thank everyone who's shown love for this lil series of mine, which is honestly such a surprise because I wrote it thinking people would pan it. I will strive to keep bringing y'all some rom com goodness 🩷

Series Masterlist

Out of sight, out of mind. But even when you're not in sight, you're still on Dave's mind.

He starts his morning early, a brisk run through the park, a shower, selecting a suit for that day, rifling through the abundance of ties he has on a spinning rack in the walk-in close he shares with Carol.

Nine times out of ten she disapproves, making a face when he comes down, swiftly putting down her tea so she can remove whatever color or print has offended her eyes and telling him which one to wear. Though he's a lawyer he's not going to argue with his wife. He goes upstairs and switches it out for the one Carol wants.

Breakfast is usually had on the go, but he makes sure the girls get to school with something nutritious in their bellies, walking them to the school doors and kissing the tops of their heads before they disappear inside. He's aware of the looks some of the mothers and even the teachers give him, and he gives a friendly wave or smile to each, but he's not thinking about their smiles and sultry 'good morning' greetings.

He thinks about you more often than he should, considering you're no longer his client. But he appreciates that you promote his services on the corkboard near the register at your bakery.

A smile stays on his face all day when you send over a thank-you gift of an assortment of bagels and muffins, complete with flavored cream cheese, butter, and jam. It's the most thoughtful thing anyone's done for him in a long time, made concrete when he spots a special blueberry muffin in a separate pastry box from the others, with a little note tucked inside:

I can't thank you enough, Dave. I'll always appreciate what you've done for me. Your name is signed on the bottom.

There's a slight scent on the paper, probably the perfume on your wrist that rubbed off as you wrote the note. He presses it to his lips just briefly.

He goes to your cafe every morning, heart racing, gut twisting with anticipation of seeing you. He subtly checks himself in the window before going in, making sure his hair looks okay and his tie is straight.

On the days he doesn't see you there, disappointment sits heavy in his chest, similar to a kind of heartbreak, as he orders his coffee and heads across the street to work.

He tries not to look overeager when he does see you behind the counter, though he feels the blood rush to his face (and even lower, if he's honest). Sure, he's found other women attractive, but he hasn't had a crush since high school.

And that's just what this is - a crush.

You're beautiful and kind and funny and smart. And single.

And he's married.

Still, it's not a crime to get a coffee and a raspberry danish just because the owner is a stunning and sweet former client.

You greet him with a smile that's different from others, special, set aside, more genuine. And he returns that smile. You've stopped insisting he doesn't need to pay, and take his credit card with a little smirk as you spy him putting money in the tip jar.

"What? Business is obviously terrible," he returns your smirk, glancing back at the line that's formed, that forms every day in fact. You haven't had a bad business day in awhile, and he's happy to be a small part of your patronage.

Every day is too much, right? It's not like you have much time to chat anyway. A quick hello, do anything fun over the weekend, hope you have a good day.

He makes the choice to go just three days a week. He's worried he might come off as a stalker, some deranged guy wanting your attention because you're single now. On the days he doesn't come to your cafe he stays at the office, puts his coffee order in with a group DoorDashing from Starbucks or Dunkin' Donuts, and it never tastes the same as yours.

It doesn't help that you're suddenly gone for a week. Then two. The last time you'd been absent was right after your breakup with that asshole Javier, and he worries about you. In between meetings and consultations, he finds your file with your phone number, but thinks twice about calling or texting you.

The next time he's at the cafe he casually asks the young man at the register, "Hey, I haven't seen the big boss in awhile," and the cashier tells him your on a vacation with your family.

He's grateful you're okay, and glad you're enjoying yourself after all you've been through so far. But it doesn't really ease the ache that gnaws at him like a fresh bruise that has yet to turn an odd color.

It takes him completely by surprise when, the next time he does see you, you pull him aside to show him your photos from the cruise you took with your parents and siblings, turquoise-polished thumb swiping gracefully over photos of you with your family posing in front of a huge cruise ship; some scenery shots of the ocean and pink sands of the Bahamas; and others of you hanging out on the pool deck sipping a fruity orange drink, a beatific smile on your lips. Dave gives a small cough when he sees one of you in your swimsuit, obviously just a selfie and not meant to be seen by him. He blushes as you click out of the photos.

"Sorry, I guess I just wanted to tell someone how it went," you tell him, putting your phone away.

"Don't be sorry. Looks like you had fun."

"I was a little seasick the first few days. It was awful," you laugh.

"I know how you feel. My wife and I took the kids on one of those Disney cruises last year, and I'd never been happier to set foot on dry land."

He asks you more about the sights, the beaches, the restaurants. There's nothing better than the smile that lights up your face as you talk about your experiences, and he hangs onto every word.

Suddenly there's a buzzing in his pocket. He reaches quickly for his phone and learns he's late for a meeting with a new client. He curses quietly. "I have to go," he apologizes. "We should catch up later."

"Lunch tomorrow?" It's hard for him to ignore the hopefulness in your voice, the notes of which sing straight into his heart.

"Tomorrow," he nods and smiles, heading out.

It's just supposed to be one lunch. Just two people who know each other and get along well. Just friends, but even Dave doesn't dare to let his mind venture too far into any further possibilities because of the fact that you're vulnerable.

Dave wants to feel guilty for monopolizing your free time, especially considering the way he feels about you. But then one lunch turns into two, and then three. and it becomes the most natural thing in the world to meet with you for an hour or so during the day. There's a significance in carving out time for each other that neither of you mention as an easy, genuine affinity blooms between you.

He's never texted another woman simply because he wants to. Everything has been business related, but he catches the way his heart skips a beat when he receives a text from you. Due to the nature of his work he keeps some privacy by only showing your name and not the message itself on his home screen. It's usually something related to your plans:

I heard that new sandwich place is really good. We should lunch there soon.

I'm trying out a new muffin recipe. Stop by tomorrow and tell me what you think.

They're featuring Monet at the museum this week and I'd love to get you in for free again!

It's not a date, but quite reminiscent of one when he does meet you on the front steps of the museum. His hand naturally rests on the small of your back, a gesture born of protectiveness and intimacy. You don't smell of roses this time, but something softer, sweeter, indefinably you. Dressed all in pink, from the casual long sleeve shirt and sequined skirt to the flowers you're idly twirling in your fingers, you look like a dream.

He never feels at peace unless he's in your presence, a fact which he tries like hell not to think about. You're not even trying to be alluring, and that's the hard part. If you'd make a move he'd politely sidestep it (or at least he tells himself he would) but you're just friendly, approachable, sweet.

You watch the art and Dave watches you. Your profile, the way your eyes squint slightly when you're really trying to see the details of the paintings, the quick pink tongue that peeks out to wet your lips now and then. And when you catch him staring at you, you have the audacity to smile, give him a playful shove. It could be your slight warning, your reminder that he's married and you're friends. But he doesn't mind the contact, as brief as it is.

As he walks you to your car it starts pouring down rain. Sans umbrella, he whisks you under the nearest canopy to wait out the sudden shower.

"How did you know I wanted to see a movie?" you tease him, and he looks up to see you're taking shelter under a marquee heralding classic films.

"Shall we?" he asks, and after purchasing two tickets you find your way inside. The theater is cozy and warm as The Apartment plays onscreen. Your fingers touch while you share the popcorn bucket, and he chuckles when you get brain freeze from your cherry icee.

"Are you okay?" he asks, slipping his arm around your shoulders. It's an involuntary act that doesn't register until he feels the warmth of your body under his touch and he tenses around you for a moment.

He's tempted to leave it there for the rest of the movie, but he knows how it would sound if someone saw him here with you and it got back to Carol. He could probably talk his way out of it if she ever questioned him, but he also knows she's so preoccupied with her own life that she'd be completely oblivious if he were to bring you home and do ungentlemanly things to you in front of her.

"What does she do?" you ask as you're sharing a post-movie snack at the cafe. It's near closing time and you've whipped up Monte Cristo sandwiches and hot herbal tea. ("I just love tea after a good rain," you'd told him, and he stashed away that little fact in his ever-growing file of you in his brain.)

"Carol's a hospital director at Mercy Memorial," he says, hoping that saying her name out loud will ward off the thoughts he's having about you.

"That sounds pretty important. A lawyer and a hospital director.." you sip your drink, letting the heat from the cup warm your hands.

"She likes taking charge and making decisions," he shrugs. "I guess you could say it suits her."

You'd brought her up simply because you felt you needed to. Spending all this extra time with someone whose wife you weren't even acquainted with was starting to feel like a secret you could never spill. You thought about all the women you know Javier had been involved with, knowing he was taken. Did they ever stop and think about you and how their actions would hurt you?

Then again, you doubt any of Javier's whores had daydreamed over Monet paintings with him, or shared a laugh over an old black and white film. They likely never ran through rain sprinkles or cooked a late night meal together.

But it doesn't necessarily make you innocent.

"What would she say about us.. hanging out?"

Dave really thinks about the question. "I don't know, " he says at last. "She might not even care."

"Don't say that," you tell him immediately. "She's been with you for so long. She obviously loves you and the girls." When Dave goes quiet over this, you fill the silence before it can become awkward. "Sorry.. I didn't mean to put a damper on our day."

Our day. Dave has to smile at the comforting sound those words have."I'm sorry," he says. "I wish I knew what was going on in Carol's head. It sometimes feels like we're in a chess match and she's playing by a different set of rules that's never existed before."

You lean forward in your seat, listening.

"She's a control freak," he says at last. "She works too much and criticizes people for what they lack. I proposed to her when I was in law school and she refused, saying she wanted to be engaged to an actual attorney. She wouldn't say yes until I passed the bar."

That should have been the first red flag, he knows that now. But he was young and in love. Carol had first dated Dave's college roommate before things went sour with them. Now he knows she just wanted to marry status.

"She hated that I changed fields. Criminal law is where most of us can make a name for ourselves, but I wanted something else. She gave me the cold shoulder for three weeks when I switched to family law." He chuckles at it now, but at the time he felt like nothing he could do was ever good enough for her. Any time he was happy she seemed to be the opposite.

"And then the kids came and every perspective I had changed. Children can bring a couple together. But more often they split you apart."

"Alice and Molly are great," you tell him, sensing he needs some positive reassurance. "They're such sweet kids."

Dave agrees smiling. "And how are you doing? How's living on your own for the first time?"

A dry, bitter chuckle leaves you. "I'm considering getting a cat. But I know I'd pick up stray after stray.. I'm continually one cat away from being the Crazy Lonely Cat Woman."

"You should get a dog," he says.

"Do you have one?"

He shakes his head. "Can't. Carol's allergic."

"Then I'll definitely get one. We'll pick out a dog together and I'll keep it at my place, and you can come and visit whenever you want."

"That actually sounds like a nice idea.."

"What kind of dog should we get? A nice golden retriever? Labradoodle? Shiba Inu?"

"I'm pretty sure that last one's made up," he smirks. And yet it feels so normal, discussing something so domestic with you, and the thought of sharing any kind of space with you sets a new beat to his heart, as if redirecting and resetting it.

Later after you've closed up he walks you to your car. There's a chill in the air and you've rolled your sleeves down. You've put the pink flowers you had from earlier that day in your purse. When you release them they fill the air between you with their fragrance. "Give these to Carol," you tell him, hating to waste the last of their beauty forgotten on your dashboard.

"And, do me another favor, Dave?" He turns back to you when you call out.

You smile, holding his gaze a little longer. "Wear blue more often. It brings out your eyes.."

Carol doesn't come home until after Dave is already awake. She either ignores or doesn't notice the flowers he left on her pillow, and it pleases him to have a reminder of you in his own bed, as if you've already made your mark on something so intimate.

Later when he comes downstairs in a navy suit and royal blue tie, he ignores Carol's critical stare as he grabs an apple from the counter.

"Darling, change something about that suit. You look like you're going to a wedding."

He shakes his head, enjoying the look on his wife's face when he refuses to comply. "I like it. Blue's my color."

"At least get that ridiculous wilted flower out of your pocket."

He pats the pink bloom you gave him the night before, a small symbol of his insubordination and leaves without saying anything, pulling out his phone to text you good morning.

dividers by @strangergraphics 👑

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@itwasntimethatdidit40 @604to647 @milla-frenchy

@everybodylovedcontractors @misstokyo7love @ppascalq

@almostempty

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separatist-apologist · 9 months ago

Text

The Sweetest Con

Summary: Nesta Archeron has been trapped in witness protection for the past five years, hiding a secret no one can ever learn. All she has to do is wait out the criminals back home determined to punish her and her sisters for a lie they told years before.

She can handle anything- even the new agent sent to keep her safe.

Read on AO3 | Chapter 1

“How is life with the cop?” Gwyn asked from behind a stack of books. Emerie was perched on the counter like usual, while Nesta flipped through several new books that had just come in.

“He’s not a cop,” she reminded her friends. The fact that anyone could look at him and believe he was anything but a criminal was a testament to Cassian’s charm. The whole town loved him, greeting him by name whenever he walked down the road and all but throwing themselves at him at any given opportunity.

It annoyed Nesta. All of it annoyed her. She disliked how easy he was to live with and how much she looked forward to coming home at night so they could cook and talk together. She was supposed to be keeping tabs on him and figuring out his game, but all Nesta had learned about was Cassian’s past.

“Did you ever ask him about Brent?” Emerie questioned.

It ought to have disturbed her how easily her friends believed Cassian was a criminal capable of framing a suicide. Gwyn and Emerie hadn’t flinched when Nesta told them about her suspicions, for whatever that said about them

“No. I don’t need to ask him,” Nesta said, thinking about how Cassian had smiled when she’d told him what had happened. It made her divorce a lot easier, if nothing else. What Nesta really wanted was an explanation. Surely there was more than just the threat on the lawn.

She couldn’t ask without admitting she knew what he was.

“It’s obvious he did it because he likes her,” Gwyn added with an impertinent wink.

“What would you know about men liking women?” Emerie asked.

Gwyn shrugged. “I know enough.”

“Maybe we should tell him about—”

“No.” Gwyn’s voice went icy cold at the suggestion. Labeled the town home wrecker, Gwyn was shunned by all the well-to-do women in town who didn’t want to admit that what happened to Gwyn was rape simply because the man in question was a good ‘ol boy.

Nesta hated seeing all of them—hated the way they acted so high and mighty, like somehow they were good people despite their willingness to protect a rapist. Nesta would have liked to see Cassian kill him.

Hell, she would have liked to have done it herself, and she knew Emerie felt the same way.

“We don’t need a man for that,” Nesta reminded Emerie, earning a bright grin in response.

“How long are you going to let this go on?” Gwyn asked, clearly desperate to change the subject.

“Until she gets him naked,” Emerie teased.

Nesta could help her flush. “I don’t want to see him naked,” she lied as Emerie and Gwyn made booing noises and pointed their thumbs down. All Nesta thought about was Cassian—they’d been living together for two weeks and he spent more time without a shirt on than he did wearing one. He could hardly be blamed—it was miserably hot outside and Nesta refused to turn on her oven, so they were cooking outdoors each night.

And Cassian often just forwent his shirt, giving her access to his toned, broad chest and the rippling muscles against his stomach and back. All she could think about was what the rest of him looked like.

Nesta hadn’t had sex in over five years—since before she’d been dumped in this small town. She’d tried to go on one date with a man named Tomas—and he’d decided he was going to have her whether she wanted him or not. Nesta had been fortunate to escape, biting his ear so viciously there was still a chunk missing.

After that, Nesta never bothered again. No one had been tempting enough until Cassian sauntered through her front door, made worse by the knowledge that he might be there to kill her. He clearly had no qualms about it.

Still, he’d been surprisingly kind to her and Nesta caught herself forgetting what he was. She never mistook him for a cop—that was still a joke—but she was starting to see him as a man she could like.

A man she could strip naked, if nothing else.

It was Nesta’s pride that got in her way. She simply could not be the one who made the first move. It was making their living situation tense—Nesta was actively trying to break him.

“Do you swim, Cassian?” Nesta heard herself asking after dinner that night, thinking about the black swimsuit folded up in her dresser.

He shrugged. “I know how, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Nesta leveled a long look at him. “You don’t look like a man who can swim.”

Cassian paused. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Nesta shrugged, rising to her feet. “You don’t look like you can swim.”

“I can swim,” he told her, falling right into her trap. The male ego was a fascinating thing. “I didn’t bring swim trunks with me, though.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” Nesta said, her tone implying she thought this was just a clever excuse to get out of swimming. She then sauntered off, undressing herself to put on that bikini.

She felt nervous, looking at the high straps of the bottoms that revealed the cheeks of her ass. Not to mention how out there her breasts suddenly were.

Was it too much?

Nesta threw on a cover up before marching out. Cassian was still in his athletic shorts—no shirt—and a pair of slide on shoes. “Where are we swimming?”

“There is a little lake a couple blocks over,” she informed him, grabbing two towels from the bathroom. “There’s a community pool, too, but I never use it.”

“Why not?”

“Too many children,” she said, though in truth it had more to do with the fact that the pool was always filled with people who didn’t like her, and Nesta didn’t want to be surrounded by people staring and whispering.

“Makes sense,” Cassian said, though after a pause he added, “You don’t want children?”

That felt like a loaded question. “Maybe someday,” she replied, unwilling to examine why he might ask her that. Cassian only nodded, his broad hand resting absently on his stomach. Nesta was trying to ignore the trail of hair that began just beneath his naval before vanishing into his pants, too.

That was a little more difficult. Nesta forced herself to look straight ahead as they walked and answered Cassian’s endless stream of questions like she was interviewing for a job. So what if he was hot? That was his problem—not hers.

Except, Cassian was hell bent on making it her problem as they tramped over the dirt path that led from the sidewalk to the lake. Nesta could hear children laughing in the distance, though the rocky patch of shore that she and Cassian had chosen was free of everyone but themselves.

Nesta pulled off her coverup, ignoring Cassian. Behind her, he made a soft, strangled noise she chose to believe was about the rocks digging into the soft soles of their feet.

But deep down, she knew he was reacting to her outfit.

The water was warm and still somehow refreshing even in the late evening air. Nesta waded in deeper and deeper, embarrassed that so much of her body was on display. Some part of her appreciated his reaction, though she didn’t want to admit that, either. It had been a long time since a man had looked at her with genuine appreciation.

She turned toward the shore, water up to her chin, to find Cassian standing there.

Totally naked.

“What are you doing?!” she demanded, turning away like it mattered. She’d seen everything, and oh, how she wished she hadn’t.

He was ridiculous. The sheer size of him…Nesta shuddered. She wanted to know what it was like to feel him on top of her. Even knowing everything she knew, Nesta still wanted him. What would her sisters say if they ever learned this? Nesta couldn’t help but take another look as Cassian waded into the water.

Just like the rest of him, Cassian’s thighs were big and muscular—they looked like they could easily crush her, should he ever want to. And his cock…fuck. He wasn’t erect and yet Nesta had a good sense of the size and girth of him. Did he fit inside women, or did he merely wedge in half and call it good?

“I told you I didn’t have trunks,” Cassian said, submerging himself so she didn’t have to feel so guilty every time she looked his way.

“You could have kept your underwear on!”

“Nah,” Cassian replied with a shit eating grin. “I wanted you to look at my penis.”

“What is wrong with you?”

“A lot of things, if I had to guess. I’ve never seen a therapist so who can say for sure?”

“Why…why would you want that?” Nesta asked, crossing her arms over her chest as though he could see her through the murky, blue-green water.

“C’mon, Nes—”

“Don’t call me that,” she hissed, immediately irritated he couldn’t remember the most basic parts of his pretend job.

Cassian rolled his eyes, reaching for her shoulders. Nesta flung back, splashing him in the face. If he touched her she was certain she’d be ruined. Better to give the illusion of resistance, at any rate. Make him work for it.

“Come here,” he murmured, putting his hand on her hip. Nesta’s heart thudded in her throat, gagging any potential retort. All she could think about was his broad, callused hand touching her bare skin and how close he suddenly was. “This isn’t wrong.”

Oh, but it was. He still thought she didn’t know who he was but Nesta was painfully aware that she was letting herself get felt up by a man who was part of the people hunting them. Nesta braced her hands on his strong chest intending to shove him away when a new idea struck her.

“This is nothing,” she told him, catching the flash of hurt. “It can never be anything, Cassian.”

“What are you saying?”

“That this is going nowhere. You’re my guard, I’m—if we’re going to do this, it can only be casual. Nothing more.”

Cassian’s reactions were better contained this time. Nesta had no idea what the mobster holding her was thinking. Only that he had her pinned with that stare and his thumb was rubbing lazy circles against her hip bone.

“I’ll take whatever I can get when it comes to you,” Cassian finally murmured, his gaze darting to her mouth. Nesta inclined her chin and then oh. Cassian kissed her, yanking her so she was flush against the hard slab of his body. He should have tasted like the heat—Nesta was certain she did—but somehow Cassian’s mouth reminded her of snow covered mountains and swaying pine trees.

Nesta slid her arms around his neck before wrapping her legs around his waist. She was painfully aware of his cock and how it seemed to span the entirety of her back. That was likely the water and her arousal confusing her…though she didn’t need to reach between them to know Cassian’s cock was of monstrous proportions.

Right then, though, it felt safe. She wasn’t having sex in the water for UTI based reasons, and kissing him was good enough. Cassian, for all his many crimes, was tragically, a good kisser. It would have been so much easier if he wasn’t. Surely he had some sort of flaw? Other than his career and his unflinching ability to point a gun at another man's face.

Nesta kissed him rougher at the memory, her teeth tugging at his bottom lip. The inherent violence oozing from Cassian was clearly doing something for her. Nesta knew, right then, that Cassian wasn’t going to kill her. Maybe everyone else, but she believed in her very soul that Cassian had no intention of taking her life.

Why would he be kissing her if he did?

“Fuck,” Cassian breathed, the only words spoken before he returned to kissing her. Nesta took the opportunity to thread her fingers through his thick, dark hair, tossing the pony tail that kept half up off his face into the water behind them. He was so beautiful it made her sick—what happened to greasy older men in sweat suits? Since when did criminals look as good as Cassian did?

Nesta considered dragging her tongue out of his mouth to ask, but remembered only at the last minute that he didn’t know that she knew the truth about him. Better not to tell him, either—what if he decided to tie her to a chair and torture her? Why did the thought of that turn her on?

Nesta didn’t notice Cassian’s hand until he pushed aside the thin strip of cloth hiding her pussy from the world and brushed his fingers over her aching clit. Nesta jerked in his arms, pulling away to bite his shoulder.

“That’s it,” Cassian whispered as Nesta rocked against his hand. It had been so long since someone touched her—or, that’s what she told herself, anyway.

Still, it wouldn’t do to just take her pleasure at his expense. Ignoring that she was desperate to touch him, Nesta lied to herself that it was only fair to reciprocate. Nesta gripped him right beneath his blunt head so she could rub her thumb against the slit of his cock.

Cassian groaned. “Christ,” he swore, eyes fluttering shut.

“Is this what you like?” Nesta asked, stroking him once.

“Harder,” he rasped.

Of course he liked it a little rough. Nesta didn’t bother mentioning to him that she did, too. She merely tightened her grip on him and stroked again, delighting in Cassian’s open mouthed moan. Was that all it took to bring a man like him to his knees? Nesta couldn’t think about it given the way his finger was teasing her entrance.

Cassian plunged himself inside of her, eyes on her face. “That’s it,” he murmured, arching into her hand. “Take what you need.”

What she needed was him to throw her down to the floor and fuck her senseless. Nesta wanted Cassian to fuck her so hard it reset her completely, turning off the endless stream of thoughts in her mind. Even then, Nesta forgot they were in a dusk drenched lake where anyone could walk up and witness what was happening. Normally it would horrify her.

But right then, all she could think about was what he tasted like when he came. Nesta kissed him again, sliding her tongue against his in an attempt to find out.

They lived together, she reminded herself. If she wanted to taste the rest of him she could. It was tempting to ask him to put her down, get dressed, and take her home. The only reason she didn’t want the realization that she’d talk herself out of the whole thing if she stopped now.

And Cassian’s hand felt good against her aching body. Nesta was full on grinding against him, drowning in the feeling. She barely knew what she was doing to him, though Cassian’s desperate panting told her whatever it was, he liked it.

Nesta bit the sensitive skin between his shoulder and his neck hard enough to leave the imprint of her teeth behind. Cassian’s hips bucked into her hand and she wondered just how long it had been since someone had touched him like this. Nesta knew he was close, could feel the vein beneath his cock pushing against her fingers.

It half disappointed her when he did, though the sight of his parted lips and head thrown back felt religious, somehow.

“Quick off the mark, huh?” she whispered, lips against his skin.

Cassian’s grip around her body tightened the moment Nesta tried to wriggle free.

“I can sit here all night,” he all but growled, fingers moving inside her faster. “But we’re not leaving until you make you come on my hand.”

“Cass—”

“That’s right,” he praised, licking from her collarbone to her ear. “Imagine how good you’ll feel when it’s my cock instead of my hand.”

Nesta couldn’t help her little moan. It was tempting to demand he show her right then and had they not been submerged in water, Nesta might have foregone all her common sense and asked him to. Instead she closed her eyes and let herself pretend the fingers pumping in and out of her body was his cock.

Cassian used his thumb to draw tight circles around her clit, working her in tandem until Nesta was panting, too, lips pressed against his sun soaked shoulder. She couldn’t stop herself, much like it seemed Cassian couldn’t, either. Nesta came, rocking her hips against him while moaning against his skin. Cassian, for his part, chuckled softly as he ran his nose through her hair.

“I can’t wait to see you undone,” he whispered before turning her face so she had to kiss him. Nesta did, still overwhelmed by the pleasure still rocking through her. He was sweeter somehow—cooler than the air around them, softer than anything she’d ever touched.

“Do you think there are alligators here?” he asked when Nesta wriggled away, still held in his arms. She twisted to look behind her.

“I’ve never thought about it.”

Cassian only shrugged, some apprehension creeping into his expression. “Maybe we should get out.”

It only occurred to her once they were on the shore that Cassian might have wanted her to leave for different reasons.

CASSIAN:

All Cassian wanted to think about was Nesta’s pussy clenched around his fingers. The water had washed it all away and yet he could still feel the phantom grip of her tight around him and knew that if he could get himself inside her, she’d wreck him. Cassian wanted her to—was so desperate that he began constructing arguments in his mind as to why they should that very night.

Fuck her casual fling or whatever she’d said. Cassian wasn’t interested in anything that didn’t end with the two of them together. Seriously together. So he’d lie and pretend he didn’t mind because she’d never give him the time of day if she didn’t.

And what did Nesta know, anyway? She’d been alone for the last half decade, wholly on her own and taking care of herself. Let her see how it felt to be taken care of by someone else. She’d soften just enough for Cassian to make his move…and, he supposed, tell her the truth. After he had her and there was nowhere for her to go but back to his bed.

Sure, she’d rage and scream at him for a while…but in Cassian’s fantasies, she was so in love with him that she forgave him after maybe one well-deserved slap to the face. Perhaps two. No more, though. He’d figure Rhys out, too, which he figured would be a little easier. Maybe even welcome. After all, the youngest Archeron might be more willing and compliant if she knew her sister was part of Rhys’s family.

“Agnes.”

A man’s voice cut through Cassian’s musings. Looking up at the figure approaching, Cassian immediately decided he didn’t like him. Maybe it was the general smug look on his otherwise forgettable face.

Or maybe it was the way Nesta’s spine immediately straightened and her once soft face began icy and cold.

“Tomas,” she said without any affection or warmth.

That should have been enough to see the man walk away with his tail tucked between his legs. Cassian might have, had she looked at him with such open revulsion. He crossed his arms over his chest instead, spreading his legs ever so slightly in an attempt to intimidate the other man. Cassian knew he was big and he knew people were wary of him.

Most of the time, they had nothing to worry about. But this man?

Maybe he ought to be a little worried.

“Haven’t seen you around much,” Tomas said, tilting his head so Cassian could see a chunk of his ear was missing. “Busy?” Nesta only shrugged, her fingers balled to fists.

“You should hit me up some time. Finish what we started,” Tomas said, not bothering to look at Cassian at all.

“I don’t think so,” Nesta replied, never one to mince words.

Tomas opened his mouth to respond but Cassian had enough. “Take care,” he said, shoving past without a second look. Nesta came with him, keeping close as though she expected him to grab her and start running.

“Who was that?” he asked, his voice nearly drowned by the screaming crickets in the distance.

“No one,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Liar. An old boyfriend?” Cassian asked, trying to imagine that man doing anything for Nesta beyond getting on her nerves.

“Not even that,” she mumbled, her eyes strangely glassy. “We went out one time. Never again.”

Cassian felt his blood grow icy. “What did he do?”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” she snapped, too prideful to tell him the truth. Cassian could scarcely think, his mind running through a million new images. He could Nesta, helpless and scared while a man—

“Did he touch you?” Cassian asked, not caring how he sounded. Nesta looked up at him, eyes wide.

“He tried,” she finally admitted, turning her gaze back to the sidewalk in front of them. “I took some of his ear for the trouble.”

“Good girl,” he praised.

If only it did anything to ease his own fury. Cassian couldn’t get the images from his mind, utterly wrecking his otherwise perfect evening in the potentially alligator-infested waters. Nesta wanted the world to think she was the kind of person who wasn’t afraid of anything. That she could weather any storm.

And Cassian didn’t believe for a minute that she hadn’t been scared.

Instead of following her to bed, Cassian once again took his place on the sofa and he waited. Just like with Brent, Cassian decided to take things into his own hands while hoping Nesta wouldn’t notice. Or, if she did notice, she’d at least look the other way. Cops went rogue all the time…why couldn’t he?

Except, Cassian wasn’t a rogue cop. This was just who he was, who he’d always be. Some people were talented singers or good at crochet, but Cassian’s great skill was with a weapon. Slipping from the house, Cassian became one with the shadows as he channeled his inner Azriel. This place was supposed to be safe for Nesta and since he’d arrived, all he’d uncovered was endless harm that had happened.

What was the point of witness protection if anyone could just touch Nesta any which way? Why not send her back home and let Rhys—Cassian shook his head, the image of Rhys holding a gun at Nesta’s beautiful face slipping into his mind’s eye unbidden. He’d talk to his brother later—but Nesta was off limits to everyone. Even Rhys.

Especially to Tomas.

It was easy enough to find him, though. Tucked away in an old, plantation style house that set Cassian’s teeth on edge, Cassian discovered that Tomas must have come from some amount of money. His father did something—Nesta had mentioned it. He didn’t remember, too fixated on her mouth even in memory. Christ, but she’d been coming on his hand only a few hours before and if life was fair, he’d be in her bed while she came on his face, too.

But life wasn’t fair.

Cassian broke in through the back with ease given Tomas hadn’t thought to lock his doors. It was a blessing here in this rural little town—people felt safe. They trusted their neighbors even when their neighbors were rapists, because people in these parts thought you could tell who was a monster by sight alone.

Cassian knew better.

Cassian slipped up the steps, ignoring the ugly art on the walls and the pictures of a life that didn’t seem worth very much. He might have been interested in other circumstances but that night, all Cassian wanted was to get back to Nesta.

Tomas slept soundly in the master bedroom, unaware Cassian prowled the space looking for anything interesting. He found, helpfully, a phone with a text message from a woman threatening to kill him.

Perfect.

Maybe, he thought with amusement, they’d ask him to help investigate. Oh, how he hoped they would.

Cassian sat on the edge of the bed, letting his weight wake Tomas gently from sleep. The man looked up, bleary eyed and still unaware that Cassian had pressed the barrel of his gun into his mouth.

“Shhh,” Cassian murmured as he brushed a piece of Tomas’s hair from his frightened eyes. “My finger might slip if you move too quickly.”

Tomas tried anyway, but Cassian was bigger, stronger, and faster. With one hand, he slammed Tomas back to the bed and held him there by the throat.

“I’ll kill—”

“You’ll what?” Cassian interrupted, cocking his weapon. “Will you try and rape me, too?”

“That bitch is a liar—”

“Try again,” Cassian snarled, pressing his gun so roughly to Tomas’s temple he was certain he’d left a bruise. At least the scene would look angry, he reasoned. Like two lovers fighting over something Cassian was certain was stupid given how dumb Tomas was. Still, he was ready to be done.

“Whatever she told you wasn’t true,” Tomas said, apparently deciding he’d risk his own life rather than admit to anything honest.

Cassian made a buzzing noise with his throat. “I’m sorry, that’s the wrong answer.”

“Wait—”

If Cassian had the capacity for mercy, he might have listened. He didn’t, though. Cassian pulled the trigger with a sigh, as if the entire thing was some horrible imposition. In a way, it was. He didn’t want to be there, didn’t want to be thinking about what Tomas had done to Nesta and how no amount of killing could take any of it back. She was still hurt, would have to live with his actions for the rest of her life.

Staring down at the lifeless body before him, Cassian wished he could kill him all over again. He could have shot him a couple more times, but Cassian didn’t want to risk someone hearing him and catching him in the act. He slipped back into the night unnoticed and was on the couch before Nesta ever woke.

And Nesta loved to be up early. Feigning sleep, Cassian waited for her to speak first. “Want to do yoga with me this morning?” she whispered, coming to sit on the arm of the couch where his head was. Nesta wore a pair of tight black leggings and an even tighter top that made Cassian’s insides achey. No, he didn’t want to do yoga with her unless it was a euphemism for sex.

And then he desperately did.

“Sure,” he heard himself saying like the liar he was. It didn’t stop Cassian from pulling off his shirt just so he could watch her eyes drift down his body.

C’mon, Nesta, he pleaded silently, Take your shirt off too.

She didn’t, though Cassian swore she wanted to. Maybe he was just delusional, reading too much into her minute expressions. He did catch her eyes slide down his naked torso briefly, and that carried Cassian through the miserable humidity as Nesta walked him through yoga. He was drenched in sweat by the time they made their way back into the air conditioning, panting from exertion and the heat.

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell Nesta he was going to shower. Had Cassian not turned his head at the exact right moment, he’d have missed that look on her beautiful face. Luck was with him, smiling when he opened his mouth to speak the words.

“Cassian,” she whispered. It was the only word she needed to speak—he knew what she was thinking. Cassian merely reacted, reaching for her body and hauling her upward before she could change her mind. Instead, he kissed her with all the pent up desperation he’d felt the night before, pouring his want and need into her so she felt it.

Among other things he was sure she was feeling. Cassian was nearly dizzy from the rush of blood to his cock, legs trembling despite how easy it was to hold Nesta against that floral papered wall.

Nesta’s mouth tasted like sunshine and mint and with little effort, Cassian managed to free her thick hair from the loose braid she wore. “You’re so fucking hot,” he whispered, certain if he told her how he really felt, she’d freak out. Better to ease her into it.

Nesta merely fisted his hair between long, slender fingers and yanked his head back, exposing his neck. Cassian could scarcely think as she bent forward and licked the column of his throat up from his collarbone until she reached his ear. When her teeth tugged against sensitive flesh, Cassian nearly came in his pants.

Fuck.

He was no better than a school boy.

Nesta was something from his darkest fantasies come to life. Ignoring how utterly insane her body was—and Cassian was struggling to ignore that fact—the way she kissed was something from a daydream. What would happen when he got that mouth around his cock? Cassian was desperate to find out.

Desperate enough to pull her off that wall, sloppy kissing her down the short hall until he could drop her on her bed. Cassian hadn’t seen the room and despite all the bright light flooding through open windows, Cassian knew he wasn’t going to see it right then, either.

“Take this off,” he demanded, straddling her hips as she laid flat on her back.

“Why should I do anything you tell me to?” she replied, traitorous fingers teasing the hair beneath his navel.

“Because I’ll tie you up and gag you if you don’t,” Cassian replied, too aroused by the thought.

A soft breath escaped Nesta, those icy blue eyes darker than he’d ever seen them. Something told Cassian she’d like a little roughness, at least when they were in bed. Caught up in his fantasies, Cassian almost missed Nesta arch her back off the bed, pressing her hips against his own as she peeled off that tight top.

All thoughts flew out of his head when she took that bra off, too. “Christ,” he thought he whispered, though maybe he just thought it. He had both in his hands before his mouth crashed against her own, teasing pretty, pink nipples against his calloused thumbs.

He wasn’t giving her back. When this was all over, Cassian would drag her kicking and screaming back home if he had to, but he wasn’t letting her go.

Not now, not ever.

Cassian was greedy, rubbing his cock against both the fabric covering them. He wanted to be buried within her and in service of that goal, because nipping bruising kisses along the side of her neck.

Mine, she’s mine.

Nesta threaded her fingers through his hair, yanking the hair tie out so his own dark hair fell like a curtain around his face. Cassian felt brand-new somehow, remade in her eyes. “You are…” Everything.

Cassian took a nipple in his mouth to keep himself from saying so, letting her imagine all the things he thought she was. Nesta raked her nails against his scalp, unaware of how good it felt to be touched like that. She wasn’t afraid of him, didn’t revere him. She wasn’t some weird groupie hoping to be a mob wife, nor was she some scared little thing that offered tentative touches and whispered words about if he had a weapon.

No one ever thought he was funny when he whipped out his cock.

He needed to do this right, to make her as obsessed with him as he was with her. That was, when the inevitable truth was revealed, Nesta would be more forgiving.

“These need to come off,” Cassian murmured, lips pressed to the flat skin of her stomach as he hooked a finger into the waistband of her leggings. “I need to taste you.”

Nesta merely lifted her hips in offering, leaving Cassian to grind himself against the mattress in order to keep himself together. If Cassian thought anything would be easier once Nesta was fully undressed, he was wrong. Everything about her was a dream, right down to the neat square of trimmed hair Nesta maintained between her legs.

Realizing that maybe he was just an animal, Cassian pushed apart her legs so he could look at her in the golden sunlight.

Words failed him. Not that he’d ever been a particularly loquacious man—that had always been Rhysand’s forte—but even then, nothing seemed adequate. She was perfect, too good for his blood-stained hands.

If Nesta was an angel, then he was the devil. He intended to drag her to hell with him, regardless of what she deserved. He’d already killed for this woman—twice. And as Cassian lowered himself between her legs, he knew he’d spend the rest of his life doing it. Cassian’s allegiance shifted right then—he was still a General, but he served Nesta Archeron first.

Everyone else, second.

The first taste of Nesta Archeron’s pussy was an awakening. Cassian groaned, unconcerned with seeming unaffected or like he had his life together. She was so wet and sweet and when his tongue found her clit, Nesta arched herself closer in encouragement. That was all Cassian needed to convince him to pull her against his face, breathing be damned.

All Cassian could think about was her face and what she’d look like when she came. He tried to look at her, but Nesta’s breasts got in the way of his view…not that Cassian was complaining a whole lot. There were worse things he could be staring at. Everytime Nesta took a breath, her breasts jiggled, sending a thrill of arousal straight to his balls. Did he rush his way through eating her out to feel her wrapped around his cock? Or did he take his time so he could continue staring at her tits?

Deciding he’d just use his finger as a replacement for his penis, Cassian slowed the circles he was making around her clit to gently push himself into her body. Whatever he’d been imagining was nothing like the reality of having her body clenched around him. Silken heat utterly stopped his whole body, turning Cassian into a mindless robot capable only of chasing pleasure and nothing more.

He needed to be inside her. Cassian didn’t want to wait and yet he didn’t pull himself away, either. Vowing he could do a better job, he returned to licking her with a vengeance while his finger began pumping in and out of her body.

Just wait until you see all the things I want to do to you, baby.

Next time he’d sit her on her face and have her suck him while he took his time. The thought was so arousing that Cassian desperately ground his cock into her bed, unable to stroke himself. He wasn’t going to last, he reminded himself. He knew the second he got himself inside her, he’d have minutes to get her off again before it was all too late.

Better to have her come on his tongue, just in case.

And she did, fisting his hair to hold him close, taking what she needed without a care or concern. Was this love? Cassian was certain it was. Moreso when he raised his head and she pulled him toward her, not worried that his mouth was wet from her. Nesta kissed him like she wanted him, like she was drowning in all the same feelings he was.

And when he notched the head of his cock against her still convulsing cock, he nearly told her everything. How he felt, the truth about himself—everything. Her tongue was in his mouth, which was the only thing that kept Cassian from speaking. He would have rather died than stopped.

Though, she stopped when Cassian thrust himself inside her, arching her neck to look at the shared space between their bodies. “Cassian,” she whispered, squeezed so tightly around him that somehow, Cassian couldn’t breathe.

“You can take me,” he replied, because what else was there to say? He was buried to the balls in her body and the only thing that could have convinced him to stop was her direct plea to remove himself.

Nesta looked up at him. “Who said I couldn’t?” she asked, fiery as ever.

Cassian couldn’t help his laugh. “That’s my good girl,” he praised, sliding himself out as much as he could stand—which wasn’t much, to be fair.

It was pleasure like he’d never experienced, like how he’d once dreamed it might be back when having sex with women was just a distant fantasy. No one could compare to the perfection that was Nesta Archeron, and no one ever would.

“You fuck me so well,” he panted, wrapping his fingers loosely around her throat. What did she like, he wondered? What did it take to get her off? He wished he’d asked before hand, if only to ensure he wouldn’t fuck this up. “Tell me how you liked to be fucked.” Nesta’s gaze found his, sharp enough to kill him if she’d wanted. “You talk too much,” was her only reply.

Cassian couldn’t stop—couldn’t stop his desperate thrusting, couldn’t stop his babbling.

“You look so pretty wrapped around my cock. I’ll bet you’d be prettier on your knees,” he said, reaching between them to rub at her clit.

Nesta moaned loud enough that anyone passing by wouldn’t have to guess at what she was doing. Good.

“You belong to me,” he panted, watching as she began to crest again. Her cheeks were flushed, her long hair a tangled halo around her beautiful face. And her tits bounced up and down just the way he’d hoped they would back when he’d been eating her out. He’d never forget this, would spend the rest of his life stroking his cock to the memory.

“You’re mine, Nesta,” he whispered, tightening his hold on her throat just enough to heighten her pleasure without scaring her. “You’ll always be mine.”

Nesta came with a strangled scream, clamping the walls of her pussy around him so tight it felt like she was intentionally trying to pull the come from his balls. It worked—Cassian came, too, burying his face in her shoulder to breathe her in. “Fucking hell,” he whispered, not thinking about what he’d just done.

All he could think about was how good it felt—and how badly he wanted to do it again.

Cassian needed to get her out of this place before they got caught.

He needed a plan.

#nessian #better late than ever right??

78 notes · View notes

ahhhwomen · 2 years ago

Text

Little Kitten

Trigger Happy AU Part 1

Pairing: Dark!Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

A/N: Okay, I’m not going to lie, I am not very good at writing, and this is the first fanfic I have ever posted on here… however I implore you to give it a try, please. Depending on feedback I may have to make this quite the series….

AU Warnings: Kidnapping, murder, Mommy kink, smut, pet play, death (not main characters), framed murder, violence, drugging, angst, obsession, dub-con/rape-con | Minors DNI

Warnings Part 1: Talk of a dead body, Death by alcohol poisoning (non-relevant character), Insensitivity, Mommy kink, allusions to pet play.

Summary: Police Officer Wanda Maximoff doesn’t like to share.

Word Count: 1168

The way you struggled as she dragged you into her car, was making her go mad.

You were teasing her.

All that kicking and screaming, your nails clawing at her. Not to forget those beautiful tears running down your red cheeks. She wanted to ravish you, tear you apart. You just kept on fighting; you must want it so bad. After all, you knew it made Mommy want to hurt that lovely skin of yours.

She was going to enjoy this.

----------

“Another drunk?”

Wanda ignored her coworker as she continued to assess the body. The man was laying face down on the sidewalk with a beer bottle in hand. Day old, vomit in amounts that should not be humanly possible, was spewed around him. They showed up increasingly this time of year, idiots.

She brushed the filth off her hands and rose from her crouched-down position. “What else would it be?” She questioned, unimpressed.

The other officer looked defeated, “I don’t know, don’t you think it’s weird?” He shrugged his shoulders. “They have been showing up more and more as of late, shouldn’t we-“ He paused, ”shouldn’t we look into it or something?” Wanda could barely contain her eyes from rolling into her skull. This man was dumber than the guy who drowned in his own vomit.

“We are closing in on summer, which means people are going to get wasted and make foolish decisions much more frequently than what you are used to, newbie.” Having to draw out her sentences like she was talking to a slow child was starting to piss her off.

She huffed as she mentally scanned all the details, writing them down was too much of a hassle, the information was pretty much useless anyways. As soon as it would find its way into a rapport, no one would bother reading it again. Just another stubborn part of the job, paperwork.

Wanda winched, just thinking about it gave her a headache.

“Wrap him up, we are done here.”

She was walking over to her car when something pink caught her eye. You were wearing knee-high stockings, mostly white, but with a strip of pink running along the top.

Wanda slowly dragged her eyes over your figure, still a couple of yards away. There was something about you. Something that begged Wanda to take care of you, to ruin you, and build you back up again.

She opened her car door, making a split-second decision, she picked up her disposable gloves.

Wanda jogged back to where the disposal team was bagging the body and her useless partner was standing around fiddling. “Wait a moment.” Wanda unzipped the body bag, reaching over, she felt around the man’s throat. “Yeah, there is some strange swelling, not often seen with these types of bodies.” Her partner looked over her shoulder, puzzled. “Are you sure?” Wanda nodded.

She could see you slowly make your way over, 15 seconds.

“It’s probably nothing. To be confident, I am going to ask around. Make sure no suspicious activity has been displayed recently.” Her tone signaled finality. That didn’t stop the newbie from trying to question her, however before he could get the words out, she had already closed the body bag, gotten rid of her gloves, and was making her way to you.

“Excuse me, miss!”

You looked up at the officer walking towards you. “Yes? Can I help you?” Your small voice almost made Wanda lose control. She shifted her weight from one leg to the other while standing in front of you. Having to do something with her hands too, she fished out a small notepad from her left pocket and her pen from her right breast pocket.

She hummed “Do you live around here honey?” You nodded, uncertain of what the beautiful officer wanted. A light blush dusted your cheeks at the nickname. Wanda was going to have a field day with you.

A new toy.

“My name is Officer Wanda Maximoff, and I would like to question you regarding what you may have witnessed in this neighborhood the last couple of days. Is now a good time to talk?”

You can’t recall seeing anything, but you figured she would want to question you anyways, so you stayed silent.

Until her question registered, that is.

You almost answered yes, there was just something about the redhead standing in front of you that made you want to comply with her every command. It must be because of her status as an officer of the law. Or so you tell yourself.

“No, I’m sorry. I have a class I need to get to.” Lest you want to be murdered by your new professor, a real hardass. Or so you heard. The woman in front of you smirked, confused you tilted your head. “Is that an issue Officer?”

God, weren’t you just adorable? Looking like such a lost little kitten, in need of a proper handler. “Not at all sweets, just write down your name and address right here,” Wanda handed her notepad and pen over, making sure to point to an appropriate space for you to write. You were clearly too stupid to think for yourself, that was fine. Mommy would do the thinking for you.

Soon.

You handed the notepad back to the Officer. Wanda made sure to memorize your name and address written so beautifully, Y/n. She smiled a little.

It fits you.

She shifted on her legs again, her thighs rubbing together. Refraining from touching you, Wanda pocketed the notes. “I will come by tomorrow, is 10 am all right with you love?” Wanda made sure to lay the nicknames on thick, she couldn’t help herself. The way your eyes turned big and doe-like. She wanted to fuck you right where you stand.

Snapping out of the trance that woman was, you quickly pulled yourself together. “Yes ma’am.” You were happy your mouth remembered to stay respectful even as your mind betrayed you and filled your head with very naughty thoughts of Officer Hot.

Wanda gazed at you with hunger in her eyes. Before she could do anything, however, your phone buzzed. Alarming you to your lateness. You sputtered out apologize as you moved past the redhead, failing to see the smirk that widened as you half sprinted down the road.

Very soon.

#wanda maximoff x reader #dark!wanda maximoff x reader #ahhhwomen #mommy!wanda maximoff

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pablitogavii · 2 years ago

Note

Hiii!!Can you do smth like Gavi and the reader went to Coldplay concert with Mikky and Frenkie,bc Gavi is a big fan of Coldplay?

Thank you🌹Love youuu🙈❣️

Sky full of Stars

Pablo was supper excited about the Coldplay concert coming to Barcelona that he kept talking about it for the whole week to his sister, friends and of course you.

He grew up listening to Coldplay with his sister and there are many beautiful memories that he has with their songs in the background. For your very first date, he took you to the edge of the town where you laid in the trunk of the car looking at the stars and listening to Coldplay...so this was a special even for him.

"Amor, should I wear blanco or azul??" he asked you checking himself out in the mirror while you smiled at his indecisiveness when he looked so handsome no matter what color he chose to wear. But you decided to be helpful so you replied "Tu estas tan guapo cuando te pones blanco.." and he smiled immediately choosing that outfit and leaving to change.

"Así? Dios! Did you change??" Pablo said when he saw that you wore a white top and some shorts in order to match with him which looked so perfect contrasted with the bright red lipstick he loved to see on your lips.

"Mhm..wanted to match with my amorcito" you waled up to him snaking your arms around Pablo's neck while his were on your waist pulling you close and kissing your lips (ofc getting some lipstick on his that you needed to clean afterwards hehe).

Groupchat:

frankiee: ready??

pablo: sí!

aurora: i'm sure pablo is ecstatic!! see ya there!

y/n: he is rora hehe

pablo: shut up hermana!

mikky: we're picking you guys up in five <3

When Frankie and Mikky picked you up, bunch of paparazzi were snapping pictures calling the boy's names which usually annoyed Pablo but nothing could ruin this night for him.

"You guys look so good in matching outfits!" Mikky complimented and you smiled thanking her before laying your head on Pablo's shoulder which he welcomed with a kiss on your head.

When you arrived, there was a large crowd of people laughing, chatting to one another, laughing some more and just spreading positive energy.

"We are going to get you ladies a drink..wait here so we don't lose you" Frankie said kissing Mikky while Pablo still kept a tight hold on your hand unsure if he should leave you alone in the crowds in case you end up getting lost. He was always way too careful when it came to your safety.

"Don't worry, amorcito..I'll wait for you right here" you reassure Pablo going on your tip toes before pecking his lips making him smile and nod his head before leaving wit Frankie towards the bar.

Meanwhile Aurora and Javi joined the two of you giving you hugs before Aurora asked Javi to take a photo of the three of you which he gladly obliged.

aurorapaezg

Coldplay con mia hermanita @y.n.bebe y amiga especial @mikkykiemeneyl! Oh and the boys @javi_begines @pablogavi @frankiedejong

Liked by 100K

Comments:

gavifansss: y/n is so beautiful!!

javi_begines: photo credits??? liked by aurorapaezg

y/n.bebe: best photographer!!

mikkykiemeney: YES! thank you Javi!!

aurorafans: beautiful!

gavigirl: not aurora calling y/n her hermanita OMGGG!

pablogavi: gee we feel special lololol

y.n.bebe: you are special <3

pablogavi: babyyyyy<33

gaviiigaviii: aweee she so cute!!

fanssbarcawags: power couples at the concert!!

mikkykiemeney: me obsessing with y/n's outfit!!!

y.n.bebe: luv you bonita!

frankiedejong: let's have fun!!

"You look so good hermanita! My hermano is a lucky cabrón!" Aurora said and you laughed before hearing "yeah he is!" behind you as Pablo's arms snaked your your waist from behind and he kissed the side of your neck before giving you the promised drink.

"Gracias amor.." you say sweetly blushing a little that he was very touchy in public which isn't often but you weren't complaining.

When the music started, everyone sang and danced taking a few videos for memory before putting phones away to enjoy the moment fully.

Then they started singing "Sky full of Stars" making Pablo immediately look down at you rested in his arms the same moment you looked up at him with a smile remembering that night of your first date.

"Dance with me linda?" he said and you blushed nodding your head while snaking your arms around his neck while he pulled you in closer and you started to slow dance like nobody else existed..like you were the only two people on Earth.

"Que preciosos!" Aurora whispered to everyone and they all smiled at how i love you two looked at each other enjoying your special moment.

Mikky took her phone and took a video of you and a few pictures to send to you knowing you would want to remember this moment in te future.

"I love you..did you know that??" Pablo said with a big smile and you smile nodding your head before kissing his lips softly.

"I know that..and I love you too Pablito!" you smile resting your forehead against his as the song ended and everyone cheered.

"Que romantico!" Aurora teased her brother taking off his cap and putting on your head before leaving with Javi to grab another drink while you blushed looking at Pablo whose eyes were sparkling looking at you.

"Check you phone" Mikky winked before she left with Frankie and you did smiling wide at the video and pictures they took of the two of you dancing.

y.n.bebe and pablogavi

Coldplay Concert

Cause you're the sky full of stars <3 @pablogavi @coldplay

Liked by 200K

Comments:

pablogavi: mi princesa preciosa

y.n.bebe: te amo<3

aurorapaezg: mi hermano y su princesa!!!

paezfamforevaa: this is so adorable!! aurora ships them too!

mikkykiemeney: me catching this moment like a pro!!

y.n.bebe: graciasss mikky! besitooosss <3333

barcawagssfav: love her smile!!

gavigavi: most adorable couple!!

gaviraispreciousboy: idk if i'm jealous, or happy, or both AWWW

pablitogavifan: the reason fans don't hate on this girl is because she is real and honest! others only used situations to get fame and you can tell this girl truly loved pablo! Always support love! <3

liked by pablogavi

When you came home, you were both ecstatic of the feeling from the whole night laying in bed together cuddling up and watching the video of you dancing on repeat..it looked like it was from some fictional show.

"We need Coldplay to play on our wedding.." Pablo said and you blushed looking up and and putting your phone away.

"Our wedding?" you said shyly and he nodded kissing your lips before pulling you closer wishing you sweet dreams while your heart was pounding hard against your chest after hearing those words..your and Pablo's wedding.

Hope you like it! Did Pablo go the concert??

#pablo gavi #pablo gavi icons #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x you #fc barca #fc barcelona #fc barça #gavi #gavigif #pablo gavi x reader smut #gavi x reader #gavi x yn #gavi x you #gavira #pablo martín páez gavira #pablo gavira

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boolger · 7 months ago

Text

I’m dangerous ☆ chapter 8 ☆ COD fanfic

Originally posted on my AO3, where I post all my stuff. Always read the tags of my fanfics. MDNI

[Chapter 1] ☆ [chapter 2] ☆ [chapter 3] ☆ [chapter 4] ☆ [chapter 5] [chapter 6]☆ [Chapter 7] ☆ [chapter 8] ☆ [Chapter 9]

☆ fem!reader x Kate Laswell ☆ explicit. MDNI. ☆ 8/10 ☆ 1,690 words

☆ Summary: You were a hacker and had been a thorn in the side of the 141 gang for a while, in particular as you tried to find out who the famous leader, Watcher, was. But they refuse to be blackmailed and won’t pay you.

So, to prove that you weren’t just bluffing, but were a serious threat to them, you kidnapped a random woman that you saw coming out from one of their meetings, figuring she was a secretary or girlfriend or something.

Oh, how wrong you were.

☆ Tags: au mob, gang, kidnapping, blackmailing, dub-con, angst, smut, death, grief/mourning, hacking, non-con drug use, bondage, spanking, kissing, rough sex, inaccurate portrayal of mob, suicidal thoughts, mention of blood, violence, more will be added

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

You packed everything important; papers, photos, clothes, electronics. You broke and soaked the information on hard disks that you didn’t need. Cried for about an hour on the couch, wondering why the fuck Kate would do this.

Every bill from the hospital was paid. Every single one and the hospital ended their letters with “we hope to see you again!”.

As if.

There was money in your bank account too. Over 20 grand, just sitting there, transferred from an account overseas, but you didn’t need to be a genius to know that it was from her. Though this had been what had gotten you into this mess from the start, this was why you had even kidnapped Kate Laswell.

You should be ecstatic. Alice would be happy for you. You could move, abandon the house out in nowhere, escape with memories of your sister and you, laughing and crying together.

… memories of running, feet burning beneath you, of your burning ass, of pleasure… and of a face battered in by a fucking Shakespeare book. The constant thumping sound of a book connecting with the face, getting wetter and wetter, the feeling of the nose bending beneath it. Of the fear that ran through you as you watched Phillip Graves raising a gun at Kate.

After crying, packing everything into your shitty car which was filled to the brim with gasoline.

So you wouldn’t have to tank up for a while. So you could leave immediately, so you could abandon them all without any problems.

You found her knife in the car, beneath the seat, when you tried pushing a back under it. The butterfly knife was a silver coating, simple and clearly expensive. You opened it, looking at the sharp blade. It was like a last reminder of Kate. Expensive, well-designed and still dangerous as fuck.

Like a sign. You put it in your pocket. Closed all the car doors and got into it. Taking one last look at the old house, in the middle of nowhere, between fields and with the gentle humming of the highways. With an overgrown lawn, left to live its own life while you stayed at the hospital with Alice.

All the pictures, the clothes you had left of her, her books and CDs, everything you connected with Alice was in the van, neatly packed down in bags and then boxes, so they wouldn’t get wet. It annoyed you that you could pull the memories of the two of you from the house and pack it down too, to make sure they were safe and secure.

The rusty blue van started with a roar, like a monster waking up after a nap, growling for a while before agreeing to stay alive. You backed out of the driveway.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Using the horn this early in the morning was honestly rude, yet you found yourself honking, already annoyed with waiting.

The dress you wore had screamed your name when you packed it away the day before. You didn’t wear dresses often, preferring hoodies and such, but when you had woken up in the motel this morning, you had put it on. A babydoll dress in black that Alice had convinced you to buy years ago but you had never used it. Not before now.

You honked again, your van’s engine growling along.

It echoed through the neighbourhood, into the rest of the London traffic. Finally something happened and the little system next to the gate turned on, scratching for a moment.

“What do you want?” Ghost’s voice sounded a little tired, but as annoyed as you assumed he had been with you the entire time, barely audible over your god awful van. It was different from when he had kidnapped you back, first choking you out, then interrogating you with Price.

“To talk to her,” you answered loudly. Silence for a second.

“Go away, kid.” He then answered, “she doesn’t want to talk.”

You seethed at the kid. You were 25, not a goddamn child.

“I don’t fucking care I want to talk to her. It the fuckin’ least she can do.” ‘I saved her’ went unsaid.

You could only hear him grumble vaguely over the system, before the gates swung open in front of the car.

“Thank you.” Your car almost coughed as you made it go forward, rolling into the property. You stopped in front of the main door, your rusty ass art piece standing out next to the dark and fancy SUVs.

One annoyed-looking, robe wearing Kate Laswell stepped out, morning hair a little messy but pulled back into a bun, her blue eyes resting on you. A part of you wanted to scream at her, another wanted to fall to your knees and beg. In the doorframe, both Ghost and Soap stood, watching you like ferocious guard dogs, waiting for the moment to attack.

When you killed the engine and stopped, everything got much more quiet. You stepped out, standing only a few metres from her.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Kate calmly stated instead of greeting you, a neutral look on your face.

“Fuck you,” not the best way to start the conversation and you could see Soap’s eyebrows raise behind Kate, but you paid her no mind as you took a step forward, “Fuck you, Kate. I fucking saved you and you disgarded me like a piece of trash.”

“I gave you what you wanted,” Kate remained almost emotionless, tipping up her chin a little, “You said it yourself. You needed the money to pay the bills, to start over somewhere new. I gave you that.”

“Why didn’t you fuckin’ ask me what I wanted?” You asked angrily, clenching your hands, “Did you even fucking care? Bashed in that dude’s face and I was no longer of use to you?”

Kate shrugged but you could see the corner of her mouth twitch, see her shoulders tense a little, “Figured it was better than killing you.”

The urge to scream at her was back and you ran a hand over your face, keeping yourself back from doing so, from giving her the hell you wanted to.

It was as if your mind wasn’t in control when you stepped closer, reaching into your pocket - ignoring the way the men in the door tensed, as if ready to step in, yank you away from her, push you to the ground –

The folded butterfly knife rested in your hand as you offered it to her.

“This was in my car,” you said, more calm now, not even sure why you made this stupid choice, continuing, voice turning into a whisper, “please don’t make me leave. I’d rather die. Please. I’ll be good for you.”

Kate stared at the knife for a moment, then up at your face again. Something in her eyes softened.

“I’ll be good for you,” you whispered, reiterating that you meant it. Your hand was shaking a little. With your black dress, you weren’t sure if you were dressed to impress or dressed for your funeral.

Her hand reached out calmly, to touch the butterfly knife in your hand. But instead of taking it from you, like you had expected, she moved her hand to push your fingers against it.

“Keep it,” her voice wasn’t loud, her eyes never leaving your face, almost as if she was looking for something. As if this was a ritual of a kind, and you, the black lamb, had willingly come for slaughter - only to be turned down.

This wasn’t really what you had expected and though you tightened the grip around the folded knife, you didn’t move otherwise. She was the sun in your galaxy, the one you would look for and you didn’t know when she had become that. It was fucked up, it was wrong and there were no doubt something toxic about it, it was all messed up.

Kate Laswell stepped even closer. Her hands were soft as they rested on your warm cheeks, framing your face. You had to focus on not crying for a moment. The hand that wasn’t holding the knife came to rest on her elbow, as if to wordlessly beg her to never let go. You wanted to run your hand over the sharp bridge of her nose, wanted to kiss the wrinkles near her eyes, push away the stray long pieces of hair in her bangs, kiss her jaw and breathe in her scent near her neck.

“I’ve ruined you, haven’t I, darling?” She asked, a tone of sadness clear in the question. You nodded a little, ever so slowly.

“Yeah,” you agreed, “rewritten my code –” your moved your hand from her elbow to rest against the back of one of her hands, nuzzling into her palm a little, “I don’t think I mind, though.”

That was the truth wasn’t it? A fucked up truth, from a broken woman that found somebody other broken in a different way, with a power imbalance between you. Even if she just wanted to keep you around as a fuck toy, you didn’t mind. You had somebody to care about again.

A soft smile appeared on her face.

“No more running away?”

“No,” you answered honestly, adding a sharp, “and don’t send me away again, either.”

A huff left her. “Alright.”

You were the one to initiate the kiss and Kate only deepened it. Finally you slid the knife into your pocket, before putting your arm around her shoulder. The world could have ended around you and you would have been happy.

You heard a huff from behind her - you just flipped Ghost off behind Kate’s back, making Soap giggle.

When you pulled away from each other, Kate didn’t even try to bed discreet as she took in your body, your soft curves in the dress, only hidden a little by the jacket.

“That’s an awfully pretty dress, Fae,” she whispered, slowly licking her bottom lip, licking off the taste of your mind, “I should look at it closer. Preferably in my bed.”

Even as you felt your face heat up, you snickered like a love struck school girl.

#my writing #boolger #fanfiction #cod fanfic #call of duty #call of duty mob #call of duty kate laswell #kate laswell x reader #kate laswell #cod lesbian

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2chopsticks2eyes · 2 years ago

Text

What You Deserve: Part 3

This is part 3 of a three part series, please be sure to start from part one!

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Pairing: Lee Minho/Lee Know x Fem Reader

Themes: Smut, Angst, Fluff

Word Count: All parts are ~67k | AO3

Warnings: Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, mentions of non-con, PTSD, Anxiety, Alcohol, Cussing, Come Eating, Oral Sex, Hand Jobs, Vaginal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Loss of Virginity, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, References to Drugs, Drug Dealing, Alternate Universe - College/University, Eating Disorders, Childhood Trauma, Vaginal Sex, Protected Sex, Unprotected Sex

Summary: After unfortunate circumstances, you pack up and move to Korea with your best friend Bang Chan to attend college. After falling into Chan's group of friends he had established, you find yourself getting a little too close to the mild tempered and snarky Lee Minho.

Author's Note: I am probably spoiling the whole story with the warnings, but I like to be safe. I originally was only on AO3, but I wanted to link platforms with Tumblr and Twitter too. Hope you enjoy!

__________________________________________

Part Three: Making Amends

Minnie🐱🔥💋:

U looked sexy today dancing

U should wear that shirt more often

Little Mouse🐭😘:

My crop top?

U might need to convince me

What do I get out of it? 😏

Minnie🐱🔥💋:

Maybe u should come over and find out

Little Mouse🐭😘:

Lucky for u, I don’t work today 😌

Better make it good

On my way

Minnie🐱🔥💋:

I think u will be VERY convinced 😉

You smiled at your phone and decided to shimmy into one of your more sexy pieces of lingerie, a silky black crop top (might as well give him some incentive) and grabbed a light cardigan for the spring weather to leave. It had only been a couple days since you’d been outside of class with him, but it was enough to get you excited to go to his place. When you stepped out into the living room, Chan was lounging on the couch by himself. “Hey Channie! Where’s Lix?”

“Hyunjin’s place.”

“No surprise there.” You chuckled and he smiled at you. “Holy shit! I forgot to tell you! So you know how your lounge’s coffee is shit?”

“It’s hard to forget.” He grimaced.

“Well, I didn’t tell you, but I asked my boss if he was considering a sister store and I suggested setting up as an addition to collaborate with the lounge! He said if I planned everything out and it would help with both yours and our revenues, he could let me set it up!”

His eyes turned into saucers. “Kiyomi!” He stood up and abruptly wrapped you in his arms. “You are so fucking amazing! That’s an amazing idea!” He stood back with his hands on each side of your arms. “Let me know if you need help with anything. I’m always here for you, sweetheart.”

He gave you a sad smile and squeezed you closely. You were slightly confused, but you tightly hugged him back.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around lately, Y/N…” He sounded hesitant. “I… I found a girlfriend..." You pulled back and your eyes widened. "-her name is Lisa - she’s fucking gorgeous and I realized I’ve been spending a lot of time with her lately. I hadn’t even considered that you were probably feeling lonely at home.” He raised a hand and cupped your cheek.

You felt guilty and glad at the same time. “That’s great Channie! I’m so happy for you! This wouldn’t happen to be miss couch cowgirl would it?” You tauntingly grinned.

“Well… so what if it is?” His face was bright red and you pinched his flushed cheek, which was immediately swatted away.

“Well at least you tasted a sample before committing.” You winked at him and he gave you a disgusted look while stepping back with an unamused expression. “But really, Chan. I really am happy for you. I will have to meet her at some point.”

“Yeah definitely, I’ve already talked her ear off about you.”

“All good things I presume?”

“No, I absolutely trashed you. Told her you were a piece of a shit.” He said nonchalantly.

“Well joke’s on you. You’re the one who loves this piece of shit.” You poked your tongue out at him and he laughed at you, wrapping you in a warm hug again. You thought about it and you wanted nothing more than to ease his worries. “And about the… loneliness, don’t worry about me, pup. I have 7 new amazing friends that will help out with that. Min and I hang out all the time!”

He tensed at that last bit and you froze. “Minho?” You pulled back and searched his eyes for what he was thinking.

“Y-yeah… he tutors me, remember?” You tried to deflect the attachment to ease his worries.

He physically softened. “Oh yeah. I forgot about that.”

“Channie?” He hummed in response, smoothing the hair on your head while doing so. “Do you have a problem with me and Minho?”

He retracted his hand and sighed. “I- I dunno, Kiyomi. I love him like a brother, I do, but when I first met him… he was a real playboy. He would pick up girls every time we all went out together and would take them home, and the next time we would see him, he would be marked up all over and he was constantly hungover. When we asked about the girls, he just said it was a quick fuck and probably wouldn’t see them again.” He looked up at you with sad eyes. “He hasn’t really done that within the past year as far as I know, but I dunno, I guess I just worry about a pretty girl like you hanging around him a lot.”

Your mouth was agape and your stomach had dropped. How many girls had Minho been with? Is he just waiting to fuck me then bounce? No that doesn’t make sense, he is the one that is wanting to hold off. Well, he could just be playing with his food before… Your mind wouldn’t stop racing at this new bit of information and you started wondering about his past. You really didn’t know much about him before you met other than his cats and the fact that he lived in Gimpo.

“It’s stupid though, he’s an amazing friend and I wouldn’t ever want to change him now. He really seems to have cleaned up his act.” Chan reiterated.

“S-so what? You’re worried we would start dating or something?” You tried to dance around the question, trying to understand what his stance was.

“I mean I guess. I dunno, like I said, it’s stupid. But it’s Min we’re talking about, completely not your type.”

You rolled your eyes. “Chan, you must be really naïve if you think my tastes haven’t changed since high school. I think I prefer actual men other than whiny jocks and stoners nowadays.”

“Touché.” He looked down at the cardigan you were holding. “Going somewhere?”

You panicked. You couldn’t tell him you’re going to hang out with Minho right after he said he didn’t feel comfortable with it! “Uhhh, Ji said he wanted to hang and watch movies tonight.” Guilt overflowed your heart, but Chan wasn’t ready to know the truth quite yet.

“Oh okay cool. Have fun! Be safe!” You breathed a sigh of relief and waved as you stepped outside. Once you got on the bus, you immediately texted Jisung.

Kiyomi Aussie😍:

Jisung! My Blueberry #1! 🥰

My best little quokka! 😍

My handsome piece of cheesecake! 😘

Quokka🐿🍰:

…🤨

What did u do and what do u want from me?

I refuse to bury a body 🙅🏽♂️

Even if it is for a pretty girl 😉

Damnit now I’m craving cheesecake

Kiyomi Aussie😍:

Ji, u always want cheesecake

But I will def buy u one if u do me a solid

I’m going to Min’s place but I told Chan I’m going to hang w/ u for a movie night

Can u PLEASE cover for me? 🙏🏼

Quokka🐿🍰:

U had me at cheesecake

I don’t know y he would check in w/ me

But I’ll cover for u beautiful 😚

Kiyomi Aussie😍:

Ur a saint Ji! Next time I see u you’ll get u ur cake

Quokka🐿🍰:

So, do tell…

What is it that u and Mr. Lee REALLY plan on doing tonight?

...😉

Definitely going to ghost that text. No regrets. When you stepped up to Minho’s apartment door, you adjusted your bralette underneath your shirt and checked your makeup from the camera on your phone. You paused for a moment and laughed at yourself, never did you think you would try this hard to look good for a man. The thought of his previous escapades popped into your mind and you briefly got nervous. Maybe I can slip in the topic at some point…

You knocked on the door and it took a moment for him to answer. When he opened the door, you saw that he was dressed up, had beautiful dark makeup on, and had his hair done with shaggy looking waves. In other words, he looked like a whole motherfucking snack. His eyes went wide as he looked down at your midriff. “Well hello beautiful! You’re bribing me aren’t you?” You sauntered in and gave him a sensual kiss.

“So what if I am?” He ran his hands over your exposed waist and slightly dipped his fingers up under the hem of your top. All according to plan.

You started to pull your cardigan off, but he stopped you. ��Don’t, we're going out.” He grabbed your hand and led you out of the apartment.

“Oh really? And where is it, pray tell, that you plan on taking us?” You clung on to his arm and the two of you walked down to his motorcycle.

“It’s a secret.” He winked at you and strapped on your helmet. Then he fucking lifted your whole damned body to seat you on the back. I know I weigh very little, but damn, that’s fucking hot. You bit your lip and he gave you an expression that he knew exactly what you were thinking.

The ride was another free flying experience. Adrenaline, excitement, and arousal overflowing your senses. You had never been this horny around anyone before, but it seemed like this man exuded sex appeal wherever he went. Your hands moved from grabbing onto his waist, to grabbing onto his muscular thighs, teasing him by sliding up and down them, moving closer to his groin.

He turned his head for a moment with a glare and then picked up the speed, making you cling to his waist for dear life. You heard him laugh loudly and you smacked his chest, making him laugh even louder.

He turned into a dark, sketchy alleyway and parked in a small car lot with very few cars. When he helped you off the bike and removed your helmet, you gave him a suspicious gaze. “Is this where you murder me and throw my body in a dumpster fire?”

“Of course not!” He looked utterly offended. “I would sell your organs for petty cash first!”

You couldn’t help but guffaw at that. “Ah, that makes much more sense! You’re so smart, babe.” He snickered as well, as he held his hand out.

“This way to your demise, darling.” You dramatically bowed and took his hand. He led you out of the lot and down a half staircase on the side of the alleyway and what you saw when he opened the door blew your mind.

A night club with colorful and flashing lights filled the room. It didn’t look trashy unlike what resided outside. A whole ass dance floor filled the room with a lit up bar fully lining the back wall. “Holy demented shit, Minho?! Where the hell did this come from?!” You had to yell over the loud EDM music filling the air.

“Old spot I used to regularly go to a year or two back! The drinks are badass!” Your mind filled with images of him dancing up on other women and you had to shake it from your mind. He’s here with me now, that's all that matters.

The air was electric and the building smelt like smoke, sex, and liquor. The neon lights that flickered over Minho’s face were mesmerizing. You couldn’t even come up with a witty response to his smirk with how beautiful he looked. He looked completely in his element with his age worn leather jacket and lax disposition. Shadows danced underneath his cheekbones and his eyes twinkled in the lights. Your body moved before your brain did as you placed a chaste kiss on his cheek.

“Well I definitely would like to put our dancing skills into action! Let’s go!” You grabbed his hand and dragged him around the mounds of dancing and grinding bodies. When you reached the bar, Minho raised his hand to the bartender and he immediately left the line of people he was tending to.

“Holy shit! If it isn’t Lee Minho!” He grabbed his hand over the bar to shake it firmly. “Where the hell have you been?!” The man looked close to Minho’s age and had handsome features. Damn, why does every man I meet in this country have to be so goddamn beautiful??

“Hey Jackson! Long time no see! I’ve just been busy as hell!” This supposed ‘Jackson’ turned his gaze over to you and offered a debonair smile.

“Well who’s this lovely lady?” He picked up your hand from the bar and chastely kissed the back of it. You mildly flushed at the action and Minho cutely swatted him away.

“This is my girlfriend, Y/N. Isn’t she a beauty?” Minho looked at you with pride and you nudged his side when your stupid face blushed.

“Girlfriend? Out of anyone I’ve seen you with, since when did you grow a sense of commitment?” Minho’s expression was undiscernible and he punched Jackson’s shoulder over the bar.

“Since I’ve been away from your shit influence!” Minho quickly deflected. “Babe, get anything you like, it’s on me.” He beams at you with an unfairly sexy half grin.

“It’d better be! I’m broke as fuck!” He laughed and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close. “Well I want some Bullet Bourbon and Coke, but I want you –” You shoved your pointer finger into his chest. “-to take some shots with me first!”

He cackled at you. “Whatever you say, your highness!” He turned back to Jackson. “I’ll take the usual.” He winked at the two of you as he took Minho’s credit card and rushed off to mix some concoctions. You turned back to Minho with a raised eyebrow and a half grin.

You figured now was as good a time as any to bring it up. “No commitments Mr. Playboy? Exactly how many women have you brought here?” Your voice sounded teasingly, but your mind was dreading the answer.

Again, his expression was unreadable, but quickly turned into a cocky grin and he closed in on your ear. “Why? Is my little mouse jealous?” You shivered as the hot breath rolled across your neck and you pushed him away rolling your eyes.

“More like I want to see how many women I’m competing with around here.” You crossed your arms and eyed him down.

His expression turned soft and your concerns started to melt. He wrapped his arms around your waist again and linked his hands behind you. “There is no competition, Y/N. No one can compare to you. Mind nor body.” You were positively swooning and there was no way he didn’t notice. But before he could comment on it, Jackson showed up with a tray overflowing with drinks.

You deadpanned over to Minho. “This is your usual? Min, you don’t need to get me shitfaced to get me to want to fuck you. I’ve literally been begging. ” He absolutely cracked up and doubled over.

“Maybe I just wanted to see you wasted out of your mind!” You glared at him and he abruptly leaned in for a sweet, sensual kiss. You felt kind of awkward with the intense PDA, but his lips were so addicting that you couldn’t care less. You melted into it and wrapped your arms around his neck. Before it could get any more heated, he broke the kiss by shoving a shot glass in front of your face, instantly catching you off guard. “ This beauty is called the Screaming Orgasm.”

You looked at him with wide eyes. The shot looked like a mixture between chocolate milk and an espresso shot. In other words, it looks delicious . You grabbed the shot and cocked your eyebrow. “Is this a threat or a promise?”

He grabbed his own from the tray of four more of the same shots and held it up for a toast. “We won’t know until the night ends, will we?” He had a cheeky smile and was looking down at your lips, licking his own in temptation.

The sex this man exuded was beyond belief. “I’m holding you to your word, babe.” The two of you threw back your drinks and your taste buds were stimulated with a creamy, coffee-like taste and the sting of vodka. You closed your eyes and relished in the taste as it slid down your throat. The warmth that hit your stomach was the familiar feel of intoxication that would surely hit you soon. You opened your eyes and Minho was smirking at you. “It’s delicious! But I couldn’t say that I had an orgasm, screaming or otherwise.”

He scoffed at you. “Patience, little mouse.” He picked up his drink which was a delicious shade of dark red. He watched you eyeball it as he took a sip, smirking at you then promptly handing it over to you. You sniffed it and it smelled absolutely divine. When you drank it, the fruity, bitter taste drowned your senses and warmed up your nerves. “Bokbunja, it’s a Korean fruit wine.” You took another gulp with an innocent look and he just rolled his eyes at you. “I guess we’re switching then.” He grabbed your bourbon and coke and took a couple of large gulps as well.

He sat his newly appointed drink down while you gulped down your fruity wine like you hadn't had anything to drink in weeks. When you finished, he laughed and gave you the rest of your original drink which only had about a third left. “Let’s take another shot and go dance!” He yelled over the ever growing noisy crowd. You nodded your head, reluctantly sat down your drink, and clinked your shot glasses together, downing them whole. He grabbed you by the hand and dragged you to the dance floor with a seductive smile on his face.

He pulled you close and brought your arms to wrap around his neck, to which you complied eagerly. The upbeat music overflowed your senses and you felt like it was only the two of you in the room. Of course, with the both of you being dancers, you tore up the dancefloor. The two of you were perfectly in sync and your bodies couldn’t get any closer. You could feel your combined touches heating up and his hands were roaming all over your back and ass.

You turned in his grasp as he wrapped his arms around your waist and hips, pulling you close to him. You leaned your head back onto his shoulder and wrapped your arms around his neck from behind. You’d never felt so sexy in your life and you could definitely thank your beyond gorgeous boyfriend for that.

You felt like you were floating on cloud nine. The bass of the music shaking the floor, the gentle hands ghosting up and down your body, and the buzzing of alcohol in your veins. It was euphoric.

You had no clue how long you two had been dancing, but the more you felt the alcohol getting to you, the more daring you became. You rhythmically rolled your hips back to grind up against him and he groaned in your ear, his hot breath sending heat waves through your core. He suddenly dug his face in the crook of your neck and started sucking at your pulse point, commencing the soaking of your panties.

You turned back around hungrily and repeated the same action to him, re-darkening the already purple marks on his neck. He snaked a knee in between your legs and you started to grind on it, stimulating your clit and not giving a damn that there were hundreds of dancers around you because - let’s be honest - there were others dancing a lot more provocative than you were right now. When you released Minho, he growled in your ear. “I need to sober up or I’m going to fuck you right here in front of everyone.”

“Better than nothing, babe.” You flashed him an evil grin, which he took away with a ravenous kiss. You could feel the reluctance he had to pull away, but when he did, he grabbed your hand and led you back to your spot at the bar, drinks right where you had left them. Jackson hurried back over to you guys.

“More shots? Drinks? Condoms?” He smirked at the two of you. You threw back the two remaining shots.

“Condoms please!!” Your inebriated state didn’t give a fuck for shouting that to a complete stranger.

Minho rolled his eyes and mussed your hair. “No, just a couple of waters and the tab please.” A moment later he returned with the aforementioned items. Jackson slid over Minho’s card and he scooped it up.

“You good to drive, man?” He said as he slid the waters towards you, which you happily clambered it over to sip on, enjoying the refreshment from the hot atmosphere.

“Yeah, the dancing sobered me up a bit and I didn’t have nearly as much to drink as this little firecracker.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and you fell into him, looking up at him with a gummy grin which he returned with a look of adoration, pinching your flushed cheek in the process.

“Okay, man! You two have fun tonight! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

“Jackson, there’s literally nothing you wouldn’t do.” Minho deadpanned.

“Exactly!” He laughed as he walked away.

You watched as Minho downed his water to catch up with your already almost finished glass and he grabbed you by the waist. “Let’s get out of here, little mouse.”

- - - - - - - - - -

You crashed through the apartment door, lips still latched onto each other while you stripped off your cardigan and shoes, Minho kicking the door shut behind him. Your hands were all over each other and Minho grabbed your wrists to pin you up against the wall. You whined and tried to free your hands as he flexed his thigh against your pussy, sucking and licking your neck in the process.

“What was it you said about convincing you, little mouse?” He was rapidly breathing against your neck and you had to reclaim your mind to remember what he was talking about. His full body pressed against you did nothing to help with your muddled brain.

Right, this was all about the damned crop top . You scoffed at the stupid idea. “I can definitely say I am getting there.” You gasped as he bit your earlobe.

“I guess I’ll just have to try harder.” You shivered at his whispered words. Your hands clawed at him to pull off his shirt and he did the same with yours. You immediately took off your pants as well and his eyes went wide as saucers as he saw your lingerie underneath. “Holy fuck…” Without warning, he lifted you up by both of your legs and wrapped them around his waist, grinding into your soaking panties in the process. The feeling of his rock hard bulge against your sensitive clit was enough to make you cry.

“Min, please. Please ! I want you so badly, baby!” You threw your head back against the wall as he kneaded your ass and pulled your bralette to the side with his teeth so he could suck on your nipple. You removed one of your hands from where it was wrapped around his neck and reached in between the two of you to fumble with his belt buckle, unsuccessfully unfortunately.

He pulled you off the wall to venture into the bedroom with your writhing body wrapped in his arms, throwing the two of you down on the bed. You finally pulled off his belt and pants and pulled him back down on top of you. You grinded up onto his warm erection through his boxers and moaned at the feeling of only having two pieces of fabric between you and the scorching heat in his pants that you most desired. “Kiyomi… fuck… you’re making this so hard on me, baby… I want… ngh… it to be special…” You could see he was quickly losing his composure.

You knew you were still drunk, but all you could think about was how good it felt for him to be pressed up against you, your vagina cupping around his bulge perfectly through your panties. Your whines only seemed to egg him on further. He growled and glared down at you with fire and passion in his eyes. He jumped off of you and only got your panties down about halfway before he plunged his face in you.

You screamed as he roughly sucked on your clit, fully thrusting two fingers in and out of you while aiming for your sweet spot over and over and over again. It was too much stimulation all at once and you didn’t know if you wanted him to slow down or speed up. Your hands were tearing through his messy hair, but that seemed to push him even further. His mouth moved to your thighs and you gasped and swore at the delicious pain of his biting and sucking.

You screamed at what was probably the quickest orgasm you had ever experienced, drenching his sheets and vision going fuzzy. He didn’t stop there though, he continued to abuse your aching pussy and ran his mouth and tongue over every inch he could reach.

He kept on and on and on. You are sure you came at least three times, Minho’s hand pleasuring himself underneath his boxers all the while.

Before you knew it, he had ripped off the remaining distance of your panties and climbed back on top of you. He wrapped your legs around his waist and dry humped your clit through his boxers like a mad man.

The oversensitivity to your clit drove you mad and you could feel your juices seeping through his boxers, the tip of his erection peeking out just through the top of the hem of them. “Holy fuck baby, you’re going to kill me…” He shakily said through his desperate thrusts. You squeaked and gasped at the sensation of his heat pressed up against you through his offending piece of cloth and you could tell he was getting less and less controlled. You both fucking lost it when the bare tip of his dick rubbed up against your clit. “F-fu– fuck!”

His semen completely covered both of your chests from where his head was peaking out of his boxers, completely falling on top of you with an exhausted huff. You ran your fingers through his hair as the both of you were panting heavily against each other. Once you regained a modicum of a brain cell, you breathed out. “Minnie… I’m tired of waiting…”

He leaned up and kissed you on the forehead. “I know, baby. I know…”

- - - - - - - - - -

A couple days after that, the group decided to get together one day after you got off work. You were all going to go to Eunsincheo to hang out so everyone could harass the Aussie to serve your every whim. You really didn’t want to go out in your grimy work clothes, but it had been a while since you had all gotten together, so you said why the hell not.

You were going to go to the lounge and then the coin karaoke again once Chan got off work. The first thing you saw when you entered was the unmatched beauty of the man of your dreams, Lee Minho. For some reason, Chan was nowhere in sight. Everyone was ecstatic to see you and jumped out of their sofas and lounge chairs to come hug you.

Of course it was Felix and Hyunjin first, hugging you from each side and brightening your mood with Felix’s sunshine smile and Hyunjin’s natural humor. Changbin almost squeezed the life out of you. Seungmin and Innie - thankfully - gave you normal hugs. And Jisung picked you up and twirled you around, kissing your cheek when your feet touched the floor again making you giggle hysterically.

Minho came up behind him and shoved him away with a glare. “Whaaat? I haven’t hung out with her in ages!”

“Channie-hyung said you and Kiyomi were together the other day though?” Felix questioned Jisung with an utterly confused look on his face. Your body tensed up as nervous ice froze your nerve endings and you had hoped no one noticed.

Jisung looked at you with a terrified expression. “Uuh y-yeah, we did! But we were just watching movies so… uh, we weren’t really ‘hanging out’ if we weren’t talking?” He nodded his head as if he was satisfied with his own lie. Felix thankfully seemed content with it as well.

Minho finally looked at you with a bright smile and wrapped his arms around your waist, you bringing your arms around his neck and burrowing your heads in each other's necks. “Hi.”

You chuckled at his simple greeting. “Hey, loser.”

The two of you pulled back and realized the whole group was looking at the two of you. You and Minho immediately took a big step away from each other and cleared your throats.

“Kiyomi!! I saved you a seat!” Jisung was bouncing on the cushion as he patted the spot next to him. Bless Jisung for dissipating that tension. Again, you were squished between the two best friends on the couch up against the wall.

You ruffled both of their hairs. “Aw, my blueberry boys are together with me again!” Minho rolled his eyes and flicked your hand away and Jisung just snuggled into your touch, leaning against your shoulder.

“Where’s Chan? I thought he was working today?” You peered around the area and he was nowhere to be found.

Changbin spoke up. “He’s in the back, the shitty coffee maker broke again. Which, in all honesty, might be a blessing. The coffee here is shit.” He took a sip of his smoothie he obviously brought from elsewhere.

“Well then you will be happy to hear what I have to say.” You declared smugly to the group. The circle was silent in suspense. “I am working on convincing my boss to let us join up with you and add a small branch here in the lounge. I feel like if we sell our coffee here, you guys will get a lot higher customer flow.”

The whole group exclaimed different levels of excitement from your statement. “Holy hell, that’s awesome Kiyomi!” Little Innie leaned forward in his seat with intrigue.

“Oh my god I could kiss you right now! I always knew you were my type of girl, Kiyomi. Strong, independent, smart. You have single handedly saved all of our taste buds.” Ji simply stated as he leaned back against the arm of the couch and spread his legs across yours and Minho’s laps. You watched in amusement as your blueberries stared at each other on either side of you. Jisung with a shit-eating grin and Minho with a bone-chilling glare.

“I just have to draw up a game plan and talk to your boss first before I can even think of that dream coming to fruition.” You stole a drink of Changbin’s smoothie and you were grateful that he didn’t even bat an eyelash. He actually smiled fondly.

“I may or may not have mentioned something to the boss man already.” Everyone looked up and saw Chan wiping his hand on a rag and walking up to the group. “He said he is very interested in meeting with you and wanted me to give you his number.” You jumped out of your chair and ran to hug him. He laughed at you and wrapped you in a tight hug, lifting you up in the process. “Kiyomi, you literally saw me just this morning.” He chuckled as he lowered your feet to the ground again.

You gasped in mock offense. “What? I can’t thank you? Fine! I guess I’m not worthy anymore for the great ‘ Captain Bang Chan’ .” You said with finger quotes. “I guess I’ll find someone else to receive all of my hugs.” You dramatically and wistfully remarked as you turned back to your seat. You felt hands wrap around your waist and Chan squeezed you painfully from behind. Already facing your seat, you saw Minho balling his fists with white knuckles with an unamused face while everyone else was chuckling.

Oh? Is someone jealous? You couldn’t control the smirk that grew on your face and you decided to test your theory. You reached back behind you and poked Chan’s side, making him release you from the tickles. When he did, you turned around and started poking him in all the spots you knew would make him jolt.

He squirmed with a giggle that looked completely ridiculous on a man of his size and muscle mass. He abruptly bent over and threw you over his shoulder, slamming you down on the empty loveseat. You screeched as he jumped on top of you, preventing you from running away, tickling you relentlessly.

“Chan! Chan! Haha! Stop! I’m gonna pee!”

“That’s what you get, runt!” Apparently at some point, Jisung and Minho had stood up from their spot on the couch and lifted Chan off of you, tackling him to the ground and wrestling him. Chan was laughing but he was annoyed that he was outnumbered. “Guys! What the hell?!”

“Kiyomi was sitting with us, you thief! We are reclaiming our honor!” You giggled at Jisung’s bravado as you sat up and walked back over to your place on the couch, making the two blueberries pop up and bound over back to your sides. They wrapped their arms around you, caging you from both sides and shot threatening looks over at Chan. Jisung really looked more adorable than fearsome, but Minho looked down right pissed.

Chan just chuckled as he stood up and then froze when he looked over at you three, instantly putting you on edge. Is he seriously that pissed from just a hug? “Jesus Min! Who the fuck did that to your neck?” Oh. You felt chills down your spine, knowing exactly what he meant.

The marks. The marks you intimately claimed him with. The hickeys that ran all up and down his jaw, neck, and much further down the collar of his shirt than they even knew. Everyone but you and Jisung instantly whipped their heads to look at Minho and they all sniggered. “Is our devil hyung finally getting some action again?” Changbin clapped his hands together as he laughed.

“I knew this would happen again at some point.” Jeongin scoffed and looked down at his hands.

“Hyung, you getting back in the swing of things? Kiyomi! You wouldn’t believe it! Minho-hyung used to take home chicks left and right almost every time we hung out! It was absol–”

“MAYBE I’M DONE FUCKING AROUND!” Minho stood up, cutting off Hyunjin mid-sentence, startling everyone. Everyone was silent and staring at Minho in awe. You had seen him upset before, but he was downright seething now. “Maybe I’m not a fuckboy anymore! Maybe…” He turned around to you and stared into your eyes. “...I found someone worth a damn.”

Your heart ached and you wished you could stand up and wrap him in a big hug. You wished that Chan could accept it. Chan was your beacon of light in your life, but suddenly, Minho was a light in the darkness as well.

Hyunjin stared at him with mouth agape. “Hyung, I-”

“I’ve got somewhere to be…” With that, Minho marched out of the lounge, leaving everyone speechless.

“What the fuck was that about?” Seungmin casually sat back in his chair and you and Jisung looked at each other with worried faces.

“I- I’m gonna go check on him, see if he’s okay…” When Jisung stood up to chase after him, Hyunjin grabbed his arm.

“Can you tell him I’m sorry…?” Hyunjin looked down at his feet and Jisung patted his hand.

“Of course, buddy.” And with that he was off. You wanted to run off to comfort him as well, but you knew Chan would have something to say about it. So you just sat back against the empty couch and numbly accepted Chan’s cuddles when he plopped down on the couch with you as the group started talking about your plans to collaborate with the lounge.

You didn’t engage in much conversation after that.

- - - - - - - - - -

After a very fruitless attempt to enjoy your time at karaoke with the remaining boys, you told Chan you were going to go bring something to Min to cheer him up and hang out with him and Ji. Thankfully, not only did he not protest, but he encouraged it.

You stopped by the store and got some horror movies, popcorn, soda, and some bourbon. And, since you were already there, you got a whole ass cheesecake for Jisung. You hoped and prayed that they were at Minho’s place because you definitely didn’t want to have to get back on the bus with all those groceries again.

You walked up to Minho’s apartment with your arms loaded with bags and knocked on the door with your foot. After a moment, Jisung answered the door when his face completely lit up. “HYUNG! I HAVE A SURPRISE FOR YOU!” He yelled across the tiny apartment as if he wasn’t just a few feet around the corner. You shucked off your shoes and walked into the kitchen to set the bags down on the island. Minho turned around from his spot on the couch and the glower he was sporting turned into a Cheshire grin.

He just about leaped over the couch and pushed you against the fridge, kissing you tenderly with his hands on the sides of your face. His tongue explored your mouth unexpectedly, but fully reciprocated. Your whole body warmed with affection and your arms wrapped around his waist. Shit, PLEASE don’t get turned on with Jisung watching.

As if he could hear your thoughts, you both heard Jisung clear his throat from beside you and you turned your head apologetically. Minho, however, just kept on kissing down your neck and ran his hands down your shoulders. You had to push him away with an exasperated face. “Sung, you’re such a cock block!” Minho groaned.

“Don’t say that about my little quokka!” You shuffled over to wrap him in a hug, which he nuzzled into. “I want to spend time with him too!”

Minho crossed his arms with an unamused face. “Well I guess I should leave you guys alone then. Should I turn on the mood lights before I head out?”

“Yes please!” Jisung threw his arm over your shoulder as he excitedly responded.

You elbowed him and pointed a finger, motioning at both of them. “Neither of you are leaving because I have planned an extraordinary night for all of us!”

The both of them smirked. “I don’t think I’m down for a threesome just yet, beautiful.”

“Yah!” Both you and Minho shouted at Jisung’s giggly suggestion. Minho immediately tackled him and they started wrestling on the ground. You couldn’t contain the smile of adoration at their stupidity as you pulled out all of the contents of the bags, throwing one of the bags of instant popcorn in the microwave. Their attention didn't waver at all due to Minho having his thighs wrapped around Jisung’s head like he was trying to squash a damn melon.

“BOYS!” You called their attention and they quickly untangled their limbs, standing up immediately, Minho with a smug smile and Jisung with an apologetic face. You gave a satisfactory smile and displayed your assorted items on the countertop, the microwave beeping with perfect timing.

“CHEESECAKE!!!” Jisung dove over to you and wrapped his arms around you possessively. “Hyung, I’m sorry, but I am marrying her. You have no say in the matter.” He kept his arm around you as he lifted off the plastic covering and inhaled the sweetness.

Minho grabbed your arm and pulled him toward you harshly, catching you and snaking his hand around your waist. “Yah, do you want to die, Han Jisung?” He took an aggressive step toward him and the quokka cowered away.

“On second thought, I think I’ll just marry this cheesecake.” Jisung grabbed the container and moved safely to the other side of the counter.

You pushed Minho away. “Yah! I’m not a ragdoll, you assholes!” They chuckled at your whining and Minho kissed you on the cheek.

The quokka looked down at the rest of the goodies on the counter and squeaked at the movies. “Horror movie night!” He grabbed a fork, cheesecake, and the movies and shuffled to the living room, plugging in a DVD.

“Who uses DVDs anymore?” Minho smirked, taunting you. He placed his hand on your shoulder with mock consolation. “Your age is showing, noooona . We use streaming services now.”

You punched his shoulder and he fell against the wall and acted like he had been shot. “Maybe the same person who still owns a DVD player!” You pointed to the opening trailers of the movie on the screen.

“Hah! She’s not wrong, hyung!” Jisung yelled from over the edge of the couch.

Minho refused to respond, but instead repeated Jisung’s words with a mocking tone like an adolescent teenager. You rolled your eyes amusingly and poured the popcorn into a bowl. As you pulled glasses out of the cupboard and turned back around to the island, Minho was instantly in front of you, bracketing you with his hands on each side of the counter.

“Are you trying to get me drunk so I’ll fuck you?” He whispered with a menacing tone.

You shivered as he ran his finger down the side of your jaw. You tried to regain your composure. “Maybe I just thought you needed to take the edge off. Either way, Ji is here so I think that would be off the schedule anyway.” You winked at his dark expression and pushed past him, going to pour everyone’s drinks.

- - - - - - - - - -

The three of you were lazing back on the couch, Jisung on your left and Minho on your right, all of you having finished about three drinks each. You were leaned back against Jisung’s chest while Minho was between your outstretched legs down the length of the couch, on his stomach and arms wrapped around your waist. You ran your fingers through Minho’s hair with his head stuffed right in between your boobs, head still turned toward the TV.

Eventually, you realized that your boyfriend had fallen asleep, indicated by his deep breaths and turning his head to snuggle further into your breasts. You chuckled at him and Jisung looked over the side of your head to examine the sleeping beauty.

“You know he really likes you right?” Jisung said in a low voice from where he was positioned behind you. You slightly leaned your head over on his chest so you could look at his face. You smiled at him and nodded.

“I really like him too…” You looked back down at your purring kitty and continued petting him.

“He probably doesn’t want me talking to you about this, but…” You looked back at the quokka. “He had a really hard time a couple of years ago. It made him desensitize himself and he did some really messed up things that he regrets.” Jisung looked down at Minho with sad eyes. “I won’t get into the details of why, but I just wanted to fill you in what the guys were talking about at Eunsincheo.”

“Yeah, um…” You guiltily looked away. Movie completely forgotten. “Chan might have mentioned something… but he was kind of vague…”

He looked down at you with worry. “He doesn’t want to say anything because he is afraid of how you will react, so I won’t say anything other than the fact that that life is behind him. You’re all he sees, he won’t shut up about you.” Your face lit up at Jisung's words. “It’s annoying, really. Especially since Minho is usually broody and distant with people… Out of everyone in the group, I’m glad you ended up with him. But I might be biased.” He winked at you, making you giggle and turn your attention back to the man on your lap.

“Out of everything I’ve done, he should know that I would never be able to judge him.” You looked back up at Jisung. “I’m glad he has you too, Ji.” He gave you a soft smile and gave you a whisper of a kiss on your hair, hugging you gently and laying his head on top of yours to redirect his attention back to the TV.

Again, you were submerged in unexpected emotions of how unreal this new life felt. You still expected to wake up and it all be a fever dream from either being knocked out cold by your dad or fainting from hunger.

The warmth emanating from the men around you gave you the feeling of sanctuary. You closed your eyes for a moment and before you knew it, you were dead asleep.

- - - - - - - - - -

For the next several days where Minho was over to tutor, Chan made sure to be at home. Not only at home, but over on the couch watching TV while you and Minho were across the room at the dining table. Needless to say, it was pretty obvious he wasn’t fond of the two of you alone anymore. It really pissed you off, but you couldn’t really say anything without rousing suspicion, so you kept quiet.

You and Minho would sneak amorous glances and light brushes of the fingers in attempts to show any semblance of affection. For some reason, with the way Chan seemed to want to monitor you around him, it just made you want to jump Minho’s bones even more than usual.

Minnie🐱🔥💋:

Someone is looking sexy today 😉

Little Mouse🐭😘:

I am legitimately in sweats and an shitty T-shirt

Minnie🐱🔥💋:

I didn’t say it was u

Chan is looking like a damned snack in that tank top

Little Mouse🐭😘:

Ah yes, how selfish of me to assume

...🙃

Minnie🐱🔥💋:

U do rock that outfit though

Tho I really think I much prefer what’s underneath 😏

Your whole body heated up as Minho texted next to you under the table. You clenched your thighs together and of course the bastard noticed it. You saw a simper form on his face as he side-eyed your dilemma and he turned back to his phone.

Minnie🐱🔥💋:

U like the sound of that baby?

Want me to throw u down on this table?

Show Chan that ur mine?

I’ll make u cum so hard that u won’t even care if he knows anymore, baby 👅

Your thighs were clenching and crossing so hard it was almost painful. You glared at him as he smugly continued to feign studying. Your hands that were holding your phone moved closer to your crotch so the heels of your wrists could add at least a little pressure on your throbbing sex. You continued to type with your hands pressed against your lap.

Little Mouse🐭😘:

Do u want to die?

Because Chan would be out for blood

Plus, I’ve begged for u to fuck me

But SOMEONE is too much of a pussy

...🙄

You grinned to yourself as a thought crossed your mind. Maybe he needed a taste of his own medicine.

Little Mouse🐭😘:

Speaking of pussy

Mine is so wet that u could drown a baby down there

It’s a shame that I have to resort to finger fucking

I can’t wait to find out how my soft walls feel around ur dick

Imagine how much of a mess I would make if I came on ur cock

You felt kind of embarrassed talking this dirty, but it was worth it when you could see his face drop as he shifted in his seat and leaned forward a tad bit. Time for the killer blow.

Little Mouse🐭😘:

I want to feel ur hot cum shooting deep in me

Drizzling out of my cunt and down my legs to mix with my juices

His whole form froze, his thumbs that were about to type had suspended above the screen and the muscles in his arms and legs tensed. It almost looked like he couldn’t breathe. You figured it wouldn’t hurt to play with him a bit more.

You scooted closer to him so that the two of your backs created a wall between you and where Chan sat.

“Can you show this to me again, Min? I’m having a hard time with it.” You leaned forward and closer to him and pointed at something in the textbook in front of you with one hand. The other hand, however, glided down to rest on his inner thigh, slowly climbing up to his growing erection.

He slowly turned his head your way, forcing you to look at his bone-chilling glare.

“Hey, I’m gonna take the trash out and run down to the convenient store. You guys want anything?” The two of you swiveled your heads to look at Chan next to the front door with his keys in one hand and a trash bag in the other. Thank the lord and everything that is holy.

“Uhhh, yeah. Do you think you could get me some grape Ramuné, Channie?” You silently applauded yourself. You knew for sure that the nearest convenience store didn’t have any because you spent what felt like ages looking for some last time you went. That should buy you and Minho some time to ‘sort out’ this debacle.

“Will do, sweetheart! Be right back!” Once he stepped out the door and locked it, Minho lunged at you.

He circled his long arms around your frame and lifted you, only to plop you back down again on the couch. “Sweetheart? What the fuck is that about?” He stared down at you with fire in his eyes. He was hovered over you with his thigh between your legs and the other standing him up off the ground, trapping you in his space.

“Why, are you jealous , Minnie?” You taunted him with a raised eyebrow and a condescending tone. You stared down at his bulge and caressed your hand over it, feeling the heat through his thick jeans. “Or was it what I said that got you all hot and bothered?” You were increasingly more bold the more time you spent with this goddamned ethereal creature.

He borderline growled and pressed his body down against you. You bit your lip from the pressure of his thigh against where you most desired him. “You’re playing with fire, little mouse. I’m just itching to expose us with your filthy words.” The whisper against your ear made your back arch and the hand against his bulge palmed him even harder.

He removed his thigh -making you whine- but lifted your legs around his waist, pulling himself flush to you and grinding his erection onto you. You gasped with a smile on your face and he pressed an open-mouthed kiss on your jawline.

He grinded again. “You drive me absolutely fucking crazy, Kiyomi. I’m a completely different person when you’re near.” He whispered with a sound of wanting. There is no way there is another man on this earth that is more perfect than this human being.

You caught his lips in a hungry kiss with your hands on each side of his face and explored each other’s mouths with abandon. It was messy and ravenous and filthy and your panties were surely soaked through. You were loving it.

You wanted him as close as humanly possible and you made that abundantly clear with the way you looped your arms around his back and clawed him in attempts to get him closer.

His hand snaked down your body and dove underneath your drenched panties, pinching and swiveling your clit between two fingers. You yelped in ecstasy and the mixture of the two of your breaths pressed against each other was intoxicating you.

You didn’t even hear it. The sound of your heartbeat and the heaving of breaths between the two of you completely deafened the sound of the door unlocking and opening.

“HOLY FUCKING SHIT!!!” Minho flew off of your body like a damned froghopper. The two of you peered over the back of the couch to be met with the mortified faces of Hyunjin and Felix.

You and Minho looked at each other in complete shock and turned to the pair with shaky breaths. Oh, why does this world hate me so?

- - - - - - - - - -

You handed Felix and Hyunjin a cup of tea and sat next to Minho on the couch, eyes glued to your fidgeting hands. “So this has been going on for a while now? And Ji knows already? I would have never guessed…” Hyunjin sounded flabbergasted as he sipped his tea.

“I just don’t understand why you are hiding it from Channie-hyung. He loves you both. I think he would be happy for you…” Felix looked at you with pleading eyes.

You put your consoling fingers on Felix’s hand. “I know Lix, but he has made himself clear. He really hates the idea of me dating anyone let alone someone in our group. I love him to death and he is the only reason I am here, so there is no way in hell that I want to stomp on his wishes.” You looked over to Minho who was faced away with an annoyed face. You placed a hand on his knee and he instantly deflated, his eyes melting into a soft warmth that peered into your own with affection. “But… I really like him… He makes me happy in more ways than I can count…”

Minho laced his fingers into the hand on his knee and kissed it softly. Damn him for being so goddamned sweet and making me melt no matter where we are. Or who we are around for that matter…

“Who are you and what have you done with Minho-hyung?” Hyunjin pointed accusingly at Minho and you giggled.

Minho quickly stood up and towered over him. “Do you want me to show you where he is, Hyunjin-ah?” He said threateningly.

“No! No, it’s okay…” He cowered behind Felix to which you and the other Aussie laughed at.

You pulled the hand you were still holding and sat him back down. Felix looked at you with a twinkle in his eye. “Okay… we won’t tell Chan. But I expect you to tell him eventually. He deserves to know, Kiyomi.”

You sighed as you stood to pull Hyunjin and Felix in for a hug. “I know, Lix. I will. And thank you guys. Really.” They rubbed your back and you, once again, swam in your adoration for the men around you.

“Of course, darling. Of course.” The two of them sat back down at the very moment the front door opened again with a very disgruntled Chan walking in the door.

“Kiyomi, I couldn’t find your drink, so I just got you this generic grape soda. I’m sorry, love.” You rounded the couch and gave him a big hug, startling him for a moment but then he dropped his bags and wrapped his big arms around your lithe frame.

“It’s okay, Channie. Thank you, pup.” You pecked him on the cheek and turned back to your friends with a soft smile that was returned by each. You would tell him soon. You wanted everyone to know who you belonged to. Your mind had been made, you just needed to find the right time.

- - - - - - - - - -

“Pst!” You felt an elbow nudge you from the seat next to you. You elected to ignore it to focus on the shading of your self portrait. “Psssst!” Another nudge. “Kiyomiii.” You rolled your eyes and turned towards your annoyance.

“Lee Minho, I am going to fail this class if I keep sitting next to you.” You nudged him back and he just smiled back. Stupid sexy man with his stupid sexy face. “You already ruined my watercolor painting last week from teasing me so much I knocked over my wash cup.”

“Hey now, technically you were the one who tipped it over, not me!” You mockingly raised a fist at him and he just smugly crossed his arms with grandeur. He glanced over at Jeongin that had left his seat across from you guys to go ask the professor a question, though he leaned in to whisper anyway. “All I wanted to say was that I have to go back home this weekend to take care of the cats. Mom and Dad are going to be gone and they need someone to stay at home for them.”

“Oh…” You were a bit disappointed because you really wanted to be with him this weekend, but it couldn’t be helped.

He rolled his eyes and nudged you again. “I’m inviting you to go with me, moron.” You whipped your head up and stared at him in the eyes, gobsmacked.

“Y-your parent’s house? To meet them? To stay the weekend? Alone? Cats?!” He vibrated in laughter and pushed your arm just enough to sway you.

“Yes to all, m’lady.” He gave you a soft smile with a tiny hint of something else behind his eyes. Desperation? “So, will you come with me?” Did he even need to ask?

You nodded frantically and threw your arms around him to which he chuckled at. “Of course! I can’t wait!” You praised the heavens that you didn’t have to work that weekend.

“Can’t wait for what?” Jeongin’s smiling face appeared from across the table.

You rushed to pull away from the feline to think of an answer. “Minho wants to plan a trip for all of us to go to Jeju together one day!” Nailed it!

“Awesome! Count me in!” Well shit, could have thought that one through a bit better. Jeongin looked genuinely excited and you felt like you might just need to make that a reality now.

- - - - - - - - - -

It felt like ages before Friday came around, and even then, classes felt like one minute lasted an hour. The last class felt like a day long, the bus home felt like a year long, the time waiting at home and dolling yourself up to leave felt like a century long.

The plan was this, you told Chan that you, Jisung, and Minho were going to Gimpo for the weekend to visit some of their old friends (which wasn’t entirely a lie except for the fact that Jisung wasn’t going and the ‘friends’ were Minho’s parents and cats). Close enough, right?

By the time Minho and Jisung showed up at your flat, you were fully packed and vibrating in anticipation and anxiety. You were going to meet Minho’s parents. He was an only child so Minho was their entire life. No fucking pressure, right?

You wanted to look nice for a good first impression, so you wore a cute, modest red dress with a floral pattern embellished in the fabric. You wore red heels and black stockings with garter straps that the dress was long enough to cover perfectly. And lastly, you had an elegant black choker to finish off the look.

When Chan showed the two of them inside, you felt instantly relieved of your tension at the sight of the two bright faces beaming at you. You bounced up from your seat on the couch and bounded over to hug them both.

“Hah! I just saw you at dance practice a few hours back, little mouse. No need to get riled up!”

You pouted at Minho. “Well I’m sorry Captain Doucheweed, maybe I’m excited to explore more than just this part of Korea!”

He smirked. “More of Korea, huh? Maybe we could stop by up North, I heard they love foreigners.” The cheeky bastard had the gall to wink at you after that. You tried - and failed - to flick him on the forehead as he dodged the contact. Chan wrapped his arms around you from behind.

“Yeeeah sorry Min. That wasn’t quite on the itinerary when I brought her here. I’m sure the northerners would have different plans for her just ‘stopping by’.” Chan also winked at you and you felt an awkward tension in the air as Minho glared at him.

You and Jisung looked back and forth between the two and your blessed quokka spoke up. “So, beautiful, where’s your bag? I’ll help you lug it!”

“I’ll get it!” Minho and Chan said in tandem and the tension returned. Damn it all.

“Guys! I’m not a child! I’ll carry my own damned bag!” You tossed your duffle over your shoulder and wrapped your arms around Chan’s neck. “I love you, Chaaannie. Behave okay, pup?”

He scoffed and hugged you back as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. “Look who’s talking, you’re a magnet for bad luck. Don’t let these two guys get you into any trouble.”

You pulled back and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. “Where’s the fun in that?” You cracked a smile. He glowered at you and you rolled your eyes. “Chill, man, I’ll be fine! I’m in good hands.” You broke the hug and smiled at your two blueberries.

All of you whipped your heads to Felix’s bedroom door when a very loud and deep moan belonging to Hyunjin seeped through the door.

“Ooookaaay I think that’s our cue to leave! You ready?” Jisung jovially asked, Minho already headed to the door with an annoyed aura. Jealousy looks cute on him.

You amusedly rolled your eyes at his behavior and placed a consoling hand on Chan’s shoulder. “See ya later, pup. Have fun listening to Hyunlix’s symphony!” You waved at the man who was now burying his face in his hands and followed the boys out the door.

Before your foot could cross the threshold, you felt a strong arm hold you back. You turned around to look at Chan’s worried face and gave him a sentimental smile, placing a gentle hand on his cheek and rubbing your thumb across the smooth surface.

Chan had always worried about you. Growing up, unless you had to go home or on a drug run, he was attached to your hip. When he visited during holidays from school, you couldn’t find one of you without the other.

There were so many instances where he refused to let you go, afraid of what was waiting for you at home. The only way you could prevent him from further action was to remind him of his family’s safety. There were many times where you had tried to avoid him, thinking he would be happier and less anxious without you around.

To say the least, he was not okay with that idea.

The last time you tried to do that, he had a nervous breakdown and almost went directly to your house. The house where your parents were. Where Chan could be discovered. Where he would be put in danger.

You stopped trying to leave him after that, deciding that it was best for both of you to accept that fate had brought you together. Every part of your being was connected to Chan. The only reason you were still alive was because of Chan. So it only made sense that he would be wary of having you travel in an unknown country without him.

You looked at the desperation in his glossy eyes and instantly wanted to quell his anxieties. You jumped into his arms as he wrapped them tightly around your waist. You whispered in his ear as you stuffed your face in his soft hoodie. “I love you so so so much, Channie. You know that right?” He meekly nodded into your shoulder. “Please try not to worry too much. I’ve been through a lot and I think I can handle a simple trip to Gimpo. I trust the boys to take care of me.”

He nodded again and kissed the side of your head. “I love you too, Kiyomi. Please keep me updated alright?” You released him again and gave him an enthusiastic nod.

“Hey! We’re not getting any younger over here!” Minho shouted from Felix’s borrowed car they just finished loading. You stuck your tongue out at Minho, which he returned in kind. You squeezed Chan’s hand one more time.

“Bye, baby bro! I’ll text you later!” All he responded with was a hum and a meek wave as you jumped in the passenger seat.

You watched Chan through the window as the car drove down the road, feeling guilty in more ways than one as you watched his downcast face turn around and head inside. You felt an endearing hand smooth over your own and looked to the driver's seat to see Minho comfortingly smiling at you.

“It’s okay, little mouse. If you want, you can stay. I don’t mind going alone if you aren’t comforta—“

“No! No…” You grabbed his hand with both of yours. “I want to go, I just… I dunno, I feel guilty…” You hated keeping secrets from him, you never kept anything from each other and it just felt wrong that he didn’t know about this. Even if it was your idea and yours only.

“You said you’re going to tell him soon, right?” Jisung piped up from the back seat.

You felt Minho slightly tense underneath your hands. “Yeah… I think I’m gonna tell him when we get back home.” You saw Minho’s head whip around to face you.

“Really?!” You pushed his face away.

“Keep your eyes on the road, dumbass!” He turned his disbelieving gaze to the narrow, uneven streets ahead. “And yes, I think I’ve had enough sneaking around. I just hope he doesn’t kill you.” You squeezed his hand again. “I don’t want to have to buy a new cat, I kind of like this one.” He scoffed at you as Jisung cackled from the back seat.

The car pulled up to Minho’s apartment and Jisung hopped out. He beckoned you to roll down your window as he rounded the corner. “Stay safe, beautiful. I’ll hold down the fort!” He quickly pecked your cheek and winked as he ran away from Minho’s jealous yelling.

“Damnit what is with all of the fucking kissing?!” He huffed and you couldn’t help but giggle at him.

You leaned over the center console of the car and placed a slow, tender kiss on his jaw. “Why? You jealous, kitty cat?” He growled and abruptly grabbed your jaw with one hand.

“The only one who should be giving or receiving any kisses from you is me. ” He crashed his lips against yours and you melted in his firm touch. He was ravenous and there was no control in the kiss at all, only tongues, lips, and spit dancing around between the two of you.

When he pulled back, he stared into your dizzy eyes for a precious moment before releasing your jaw and starting the car again. “Goddamnit Minho! You can’t get me all hot and bothered like that in these situations!”

He just smugly grinned to himself. “Oh well.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Guess you’ll just have to deal with it, darling.” You huffed and turned to your window, crossing your arms and legs in defiance.

You two had traveled to the point where you were mostly on back streets and uninhabited roads and you were amazed with how smoothly he drove around the sharp and narrow lanes. However, you were also horny now and you were pissed . Every bump and curve rubbed your crossed legs together and you clenched them tighter to gain pressure on your sex.

It was quiet for the next few minutes and you thought, fuck it. You uncrossed your arms, leaned back, and snaked one of your hands down your torso to creep underneath your dress. You let out a heavy sigh as you felt the pressure of your fingers rub directly on your pearl over your panties.

Minho glanced over briefly and you looked directly at him, biting your lip when he had to do a double take. “W-what the absolute fuck do you think you’re you doing?!”

“You said I’ll have to deal with it. This is me ‘dealing with it’, baby.” Your left hand snuck up your dress and under your bra to play with your nipple and you deftly slipped underneath your panties with the other. You watched as his mouth watered and he kept glancing between your wandering hands and the road. “Keep your eyes on the road, baby.” And just to kind of milk it, you said it with heavy breathing.

“Goddamnit, Kiyomi.” Minho grumbled.

“ Guess you’ll just have to deal with it, darling.” You mimicked his words from earlier, earning you an annoyed glare. You wanted him to feel as frustrated as you, so you took it for all it was worth. You looked at your surroundings to make sure the coast was clear and, thankfully, you were riding down the outskirts of town, nothing much but empty highways and open fields. Not only that, but it was starting to get dark out too. You took the opportunity to raise your ass and shimmy your panties down to your knees the rest of the way, freeing up some space to spread your legs.

“The fuck, Kiyomi?! Do you want us to crash?” You huffed out a half chuckle, but you were becoming enraptured with the feeling you were giving yourself. You licked your lips and set your sights on the pure personification of sex of a man next to you. His veiny forearms that you could see below the rolled up sleeves of his favorite mint-green button-up, reaching out to grip the wheel with white knuckles.

His grumpy furrowed brow even looked sexy. His blazing eyes focused on the road, with the occasional flickers of looks at your working fingers. He grazed his tongue over his lips and finished with a bite of his lower lip.

You spread wide enough for him to be able to see everything you’re doing to yourself. You moved the fingers that were working your clit further down, skirting its way through your soaked lips. A small mewl escaped your already panting lips and you could see Minho’s black jeans get tighter in his crotch.

You couldn’t help but have your mind slip back to the fantasy you’ve constantly thought of ever since you met Minho. He would feel so fucking good inside me. Minho watched as you slipped your middle finger in slowly, reaching as far as you could and curling up into your sweet spot. You breathed out a shaky moan and Minho snapped.

For some reason he maneuvered one hand off the wheel so he could grab his black sweatshirt from the back seat. He then grabbed the hand that was stimulating yourself and threw it to the side, stuffing his sweatshirt between your legs and under your ass, making you gasp with the roughness of his movements. And, without further notice, he plunged two fingers in your dripping pussy and drove with the other hand, leaning forward to get a better angle.

You yelped in surprise and started whimpering and bucking your hips into his fingers that were relentlessly massaging and thrusting against your g-spot. “Who’s fingers do you like more, baby? Yours or mine?”

You could tell how much he was enjoying this himself with the pure electricity in the tone of his voice. “Y-yours! Oh god!” You closed your eyes and your head fell back against the headrest. God, you could never get enough of this man’s touch. You cried out when you felt his fingers leave your heat and, in frustration, you whined as you looked up in panic, frantically missing the delicious build up. “Wh-what?”

“Suck...” He was holding his slick fingers up to your mouth with your juices glistening on his knuckles. “...and I might let you cum.” You probably should’ve been put off or had a touch more pride than to allow it, but the thought of him being the only one to allow your orgasms made you that much more turned on. You decided you wanted to be good for him just this once, wanted to earn it.

You waited for his eyes to flicker back over to you from the road, then you stared at him as you licked a stripe up between them, wrapping your mouth around the digits and sucking and licking around and between them to make sure everything was collected. You could hear a deep hum in Minho’s throat before he pulls his fingers from you and plunged them back inside you.

You screamed at the sheer force of his thrusts and expert maneuvering to hit just the right spot. “F-fuck Min! R-right there!” Your fingernails dug into the fibers from your grip on the nylon upholstery of the car seat for dear life as he single handedly worked to dig your orgasm out of you.

“See what you get when you behave, little mouse? Such a good girl for me, baby.” He doubled his efforts and you felt the quickest orgasm you’d ever had crash over you. You released your tidal wave of arousal on his sweatshirt underneath you and thanked the heavens he thought of that ahead of time for Felix’s sake. After your high settled down, you slumped back into your seat, wiped out.

Your eyes still wandered to the man next to you as he brought his fingers up to his own lips and sucked off the remainder of your fluids for himself. “Holy fuck, your hands belong to the gods.” He just chuckled and brought your hand to his mouth to kiss it. For some idiotic reason, that is the reason you blushed, not the fact that his hand was just inside your cunt, no, it’s because of his act of being a stupid romantic piece of shit.

He grabbed the soiled sweatshirt between your thighs and wiped the rest of you clean, removing the cloth and throwing it on the floorboard in the backseat. You pulled up your panties and readjusted your dress, but saw that Minho was still hard as a rock. You licked your lips at the sight and reached towards him. “Let me–”

He blocked your hand and interlaced your fingers with his. “Don’t. Or else we will definitely crash.”

- - - - - - - - - -

The car ride was more fun than you thought an almost three hour car ride would be. You and Minho would switch from deep conversations, to singing playfully along to the radio, to simply sitting in content silence - just enjoying the scenery and each other’s presence.

When Minho started to pull into the quaint suburbs of Gimpo, your anxiety made itself known. You started wringing your hands together when you thought of all of the ways you could screw up your first meeting with his parents. You wracked your brain to remember all of the proper Korean etiquette techniques you were taught. When you met Chan’s parents, you were like, what? Eight years old? You didn’t have to worry about that kind of shit at that age! Not to mention you were in Australia.

Of course, you did your research, but nothing could ease the worry that you might miss something or screw it up somehow. You checked your makeup for the umteenth time in the little mirror on the sun visor and took a deep breath as Minho pulled into a small lot next to some condos. When parked, you texted Chan of your arrival and you mentally prepared yourself to go inside, but Minho placed a hand on your knee.

“Jagi, you really need to relax. They aren’t piranhas, they are going to love you!” He chuckled as he, of course, saw right through you.

You traced the veins down his arms with your index finger and kept your eyes down. “Well… what if, like, I forget the correct manners without knowing it? Or I get nervous and mess up my Korean and accidentally call your mom a crazy bitch or something? Or I ending up breaking some sort of hundred year old family heirloom and they–”

“Y/N!” You halted your words and meekly looked up at your boyfriend. “Even if any of that happens, they’re really cool, okay? Do you trust me?”

Do I trust you? Of course I trust you. You trusted him more than you trusted yourself. It really was amazing how fast he earned your trust, really. After everything from your past, finding someone to trust was few and far between. You knew without a shadow of a doubt that you would lay your life in Chan’s hands, and now, Minho was starting to be another you could say that about. “I trust you…”

The sincerity in your words made him smile and he pressed a sweet, tender kiss to your lips. “Let’s go, yeah?”

After Minho’s collected all of the baggage - because of course he insisted on carrying it - you stood at their front door, adjusting every piece of your outfit perfectly. You found him smirking at you and you scowled as you smacked him with the back of your hand.

He snorted as he knocked on the door and your mind was running at a thousand miles a minute. You suddenly noticed every little thing around you. You saw the light just inside the door turn on through the peephole. You heard a rustling on the other side of the freshly painted white door. You watched with anxiety as the age-worn doorknob turned.

You were met with a short, beautiful older woman with laugh lines and a sweet smile. Her skin wasn’t much unlike Minho’s and you could see where he got his beautiful eyes and cheekbones from. “Hello! You must be Y/N! We’ve been so excited to meet you!” Both you and Minho were caught off guard when she pulled you in for a hug, which you happily returned.

“Yes ma’am!” You deeply bowed when she releases you. “It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs. Lee. Thank you for inviting me to your home! The neighborhood seems lovely.” Little did she know that you were just about pissing yourself with nerves.

She gave you a sweet smile and Minho spoke up. “Um hello? Darling mother of mine?! The one I haven’t seen in months?! Any hello for me?”

“Oh shush, Minnie. Don’t be whiny.” She just waved him off with a small pinch on the cheek while she whisked you inside with a hand on your shoulder. You removed your shoes as soon as you entered and allowed her to pull you up to round the half staircase and into the living room. A tall, slender man with bifocals and a tired look turned to you after pulling a couple suitcases into the room. You could feel your heart drop out of your ass when you looked at his stern face.

You immediately dropped into a deep bow. “Good evening, sir. I’m Y/N! Thank you so much for inviting me into your home.” You sounded like a broken record. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Lee.” He smirked and glanced at Minho. Well I can definitely see where Minho gets it from. That and his intimidating features with a sharp nose and defined jawline.

“Oh no need to be so formal, sweetheart! Feel free to call us eomeonim and abeonim!” Minho’s mother said as she put a shawl over her shoulders.

“Yes ma’am! Thank you, eomeonim!” It felt odd to call her ‘mother’ but a good kind of odd.

“Very lovely to meet you as well, Y/N.” Minho’s father walked up and encased your outstretched hand with both of his, shaking it slightly. “What is a beautiful young lady such as yourself doing with my son?”

“Yah!” Minho protested and his father just chuckled and ignored him.

You giggled along with him. “Well, he seems to be doing well so far. I thought I’d go ahead and keep him.” You said sarcastically with a sly look and a wink at Minho.

“Hah! I like this girl.” His dad guffawed at his mom and patted your shoulder with a force that would’ve knocked you over had Minho not had a hand around your waist.

“Well, dear. I’m terribly sorry that we have to leave just as you have arrived, but we really need to catch our bus. Thank you two so much for watching the place for us while we’re gone!” You and Minho walked them to the front door you had entered just moments before. “Please help yourself to whatever you like and make yourself at home! I will just have to break out the baby photos when we return!”

“Yes, please–!” “God,no–!” You and Minho said over each other, making his parents laugh.

“Okay, well you two have fun! See you two on Sunday!” Her bright tone completely erased all of your worries and you and Minho waved them goodbye, bidding them with safe travels.

As soon as Minho shut and locked the door, he was all over you. Mouth latching onto yours like you were the air he needed to breathe. One hand tangled in your hair while the other squeezed your breast through the material of your dress. Pelvises slotted together as he pushed you against the wall. You were in love with it all, but something snatched your attention away when you felt something brush against your leg. You broke the kiss as your gaze wandered down and Minho’s eyes followed yours.

A bright-eyed orange cat weaved its way throughout Minho’s legs. “Soonie!” You crouched down to allow the feline to sniff your finger.

“You actually remembered who he is?” Minho seemed flabbergasted.

“Of course I do! You’ve talked about them so much and I’ve seen enough pictures and videos that I feel like I already know them!” Your heart filled with warmth when Soonie rubbed his head up against your outstretched hand in invitation to pet him. Minho squatted down next to you and you could see him watching you through your peripheral vision. You turned to look at him and saw a fond smile on his face, which you returned without thinking.

“C’mon, let me show you the rest of the place.”

- - - - - - - - - -

Dori had briefly shown herself once in the tour, but Doongie was nowhere to be found. “He’ll come out when he’s ready.” You were dejected to hear this, but you knew he was right. The only problem was that you had shit patience.

You were filled with fondness and adoration for this man as he took you around the house, recounting different stories from his past that he wanted to share. Each story was so expressive and you could tell he was excited to get to share his precious memories with you. It was moments like these that made you really love Minho…

…Wait.

What?

Love? The thought had come to mind plenty of times, of course, but this time you thought without hesitation. Love didn’t come to your head as a question to yourself, it was a fact. Love as in, yes, this is one of the reasons why you are in love with this man. Love as in, yes, there is nowhere else you would rather be right now. Love as in, yes, you want him in your life from here on out.

Your face turned impossibly red as your mind brought the solidarity of your feelings to fruition. He definitely noticed because one moment he was describing how he would always help his mom with dinner while the two of you were chatting on the couch, and the next he was turned toward you, caressing your face. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, gorgeous?”

You could only shake your head as you stared up at him with starstruck eyes. He’s so fucking beautiful. “You are amazing, you know that? How did I get so lucky?” The words naturally rolled off of your tongue and the scoff he let out brushed across your face.

“Trust me, I’m not all that great, sweetheart.” He paused for a beat. “There are things that–”

“I don’t care.” You cut him off. You didn’t even have to cogitate on it. You already knew there was something he was holding back, but you didn’t care. Whatever it was, however bad, it made him the person that he was. And without a shadow of a doubt, you were in love with the Minho he was now . The only thing you did doubt was if he loved you back or not.

You knew it was stupid to ruminate on it, but if you said it and he didn’t love you back? That would make for a very shitty weekend. But damn him for looking like a fucking lovesick puppy with the way he was currently gazing at you.

His thumb glided across your cheek and over your lips. “You’re perfect, Y/N…” He slowly leaned in with his sights fixed on your lips. The kiss he placed there was delicate and chaste, as if you were made of porcelain. When he pulled back, the look he gave you made you break.

“I love you…” It was barely a whisper but you knew he heard you from the astonished look on his face. Well shit. I was just telling myself not to say it and the bastard made me slip! You were internally having a meltdown and the silence between words seemed like an eternity.

To say he looked shocked was an understatement. It looked like he just discovered the taste of cheese or something equally as life changing. His eyes were wide as saucers as he stared down at you with a slack jaw. You wanted to curb stomp yourself and crawl into a hole. But what’s done is done…

“I-I’m sorr–” Your words were cut short by a pair of lips searing its heat all over yours. Sensual and ravenous. Romantic and wild. You almost felt dizzy from the pure intensity and abruptness of it. His hands had grabbed you by each side of your face and you could hear your own heart beating out of your chest.

“I love you too, Y/N.” Another kiss. “So fucking much.” You couldn’t contain your giddy stupidass schoolgirl smile that grew on your face as he continued showering you with kisses. The kisses gradually became more solid and the breaths that mingled between the two of you became heavy and laden with want . Need.

You only momentarily parted before Minho heaved you up with his hands under your thighs and your legs surrounding his hips. He must have had this house read like the back of his hand because he didn’t let up on the assault of your lips even as he shuffled through the hallways to his bedroom. He kicked the door closed behind him and the only light that illuminated the two of you as he laid you down on the bed was his dim bedside lamp and the moonlight shining in the window.

Minho was slower, more controlled now. Hovering above you, he slowly, painfully slowly, pressed tender kisses from your lips, to your jaw, to your neck, and finally to your shoulder where he slid the seam of your dress over slightly to skim down your collarbone.

You laid there aching, but you waited patiently, loving the careful attention he was committing to you. With the hand that wasn’t holding himself upright, he slid down from the sleeve of your shoulder, around the crest of your breast, down the dip of your waist and hip, all the way to the hem of your dress. His eyes explored your body the whole way.

His hand slipped up your thigh under your dress and he returned to languidly kissing and suckling on your neck as he kneaded your ass, making you mewl with need. You could feel his weight shift to his knees as the fabric of your dress was being bunched upwards by both of his hands. You stopped his ministrations on your neck for a moment so you could rid yourself of the offending piece of fabric.

However, before he could continue, his eyes were glued to what you wore underneath. Red satin and lace lingerie were matching underneath your dress and you wondered how he didn’t notice it with the way he finger fucked you on the way here. He stared at you like you were the finest piece of artwork alive and his hands skimmed up and down the sides of your boney frame.

“Breathtaking…” He laid a sweet kiss on your exposed navel.

“Minnie…” You couldn’t say anything above a breathy whisper as you watched him meticulously unlatch your garters with feather light touches. His fingers hooked under the hem of your stocking and slowly pulled them off one at a time, kissing his way down your legs while doing so.

This was a whole different experience than what you had known Minho to be like in bed. This was tender and patient, an intimacy like you had never experienced permeated the room and made your heart swell painfully. His movements were soft and calculated and the fingertips he ran across your skin left chills in its wake. Your entire body was trembling with nerves and anticipation.

When he had removed your stockings, he breathed his way back up your legs, over your wet panties, up your torso, and to your lips. His kiss was long and languid, moving sensually and when you felt his tongue slip out to meet yours, you could feel it was almost hesitant.

You tried to control yourself but you were so painfully desperate that your hands moved on their own. Your fingers ran through his hair as your kisses made your eagerness known. The light tugs you gave on his blue locks pulled a groan from his throat and one of his hands skimmed around to your back to deftly unlatch your flimsy bralette.

You ran your own hands down the front of his minty shirt and clumsily started unbuttoning him with your shaky fingers while his lips were still savoring your own. Once you had successfully undone the last button, he sat back and threw it off to the side, leaving his top half naked.

You had seen him shirtless many times, but you could never get over the sensation you felt in your gut as you looked at him. You sat up to meet his toned frame that was nestled in between your legs, kissing slowly down his abdomen as he ran his fingers lovingly through your hair. When your lips met the hem of his jeans, you mimicked his slow movements as you looked up into his eyes as you lazily unclasped his belt and pulled it from its loops.

He lowered his hand to thumb at your bottom lip as you unbuttoned his jeans and pulled down the zipper, indicating you wanted them off by tugging down the thick material over the cleft of his ass. When he stripped them the rest of the way off and returned to you, he laid you back and pressed into you again. The feeling of his throbbing tumescence against your heat with only your undergarments separating you two made your head spin. I’m turning into a goddamn bitch in heat.

You desperately rolled your pussy down on him and he attempted to suppress a moan as he reciprocated the movement, suddenly more eager than before as he started biting and sucking on your pulse. You threw your head back in ecstasy of the pressure and whimpered. “M-Minnie… I want you so bad, baby.” You reluctantly pulled his head away from his assault on your neck with your hands cupping his cheeks to look straight into his eyes with a dead serious composure. “Please make love to me, Minho… I’ve never been more ready…”

His glossy eyes searched yours and your heart rate spiked as you could feel his head nod in your hands. He quickly and clumsily stumbled over to his wallet and pulled out a square foil. Really? In your wallet? You didn’t have much time to think about the less than optimal storage space as he climbed back on top of you and tossed the rubber to the side.

His fingers went back to exploring your thighs as he leveled his face to your sploosh-soaked panties and hooked an arm underneath one of your legs. You felt a jolt spring through your body as you felt the white hot pinch of teeth sinking into your inner thigh and then felt the softness of a tongue smooth over the pain.

Your breaths became louder and whinier as you felt his hot breath ghost over your wetness. He slowly dragged his unoccupied index finger up the inside of your thigh and hooked it into the crotch of your panties, pulling them aside so he could delicately flick your throbbing bead with his tongue. You craned your neck as the pleasure overpowered you, the anticipation making everything that much more delectable.

He obviously was starting to get impatient as well as he decided to loop his fingers in your panties and garter belt and slide them off the rest of the way. He gazes at you with desire dripping from his eyes as he lowered his face into your dripping folds and dipped his tongue in, reaching as far as he could and pulling out again. After only a moment, his mouth returned to suck on your clit and his fingers snaked their way into you to work their magic.

“Ngh! Min!” You grabbed onto his hair as he ate you out like a carnivorous animal. His fingers worked with a clear goal. To make you cum as fast as possible. “M-Min! I want to finish with you !” His whole body froze and his fingers inside you stilled.

“Holy shit. Okay, baby. Okay.” He quickly shucked off his boxers and for some reason you got super anxious, even scared almost. It’s like the excitement of getting your ears pierced for the first time, but when you see the needle, you get scared shitless.

You’d already known that he was rather large and could probably split you in two, but to realize you were just a few moments away from it happening made you worry about the pain even more. Whatever, this pain can’t be nearly as bad as what I’ve had to endure before. He seemed to read your turmoil as you stared doe-eyed at him ripping the packet open with his teeth and rolling on the condom. He paused after it was fully on and he kissed your forehead. “Don’t worry, little mouse. I will try to make it as painless as I can.”

Your gaze returned to his eyes and you saw the sincerity within him. You trusted this man so wholeheartedly that all of your worries subsided, only leaving you to dumbly nod at him. You gasped as he slowly pressed his head against your opening, swirling it against your sopping clit around your folds as you keened at the devastating heat and pressure against you.

“You ready baby?” You nodded frantically and wrapped your hands around his nape with both hands, refusing to look anywhere but his eyes and grabbing the fading blue hair on the back of his neck. The two of you groaned in unison as you could feel him intrude your walls, your eyes fluttering violently at the stretch. “Oh, fuck… Shit, you’re so tight.” His words were strained and he looked as if he were about to bust a nut right on the spot.

He paused once only his head was in to let you adjust. “O-oh god!” Well, that was what you tried to say, but really it only came out as a choked squeaking noise.

“You okay, jagi?” You could see he was struggling himself, but he used his free hand to gently caress the side of your head. Unable to release any words, you just nodded your head slowly and wrapped your legs around his waist, imploring him to keep going.

After a minute or so, he was fully sheathed and you could barely breathe. The pleasure and pain of being completely full was intoxicating. “I need words, baby girl.” He breathed out against your neck.

You had to shake yourself back into a conscious state so you could find a proper sentence. “F-fuck… You’re splitting me in two…”

His eyes went panicked and he loosened himself from you. “Do we need to stop?” You almost growled at him once he started to move away and you latched your legs around him impossibly tighter, making him slam back into you. You let out a yelp and he choked on his own gasp.

“I will legitimately kill you if you leave my pussy right now.” He breathed out a shaky laugh against your neck and placed a small peck there. You waited another moment before speaking up. “O-okay… I think… I think I’m ready for you to start moving.”

You felt him start to pull back shallowly before pushing in again, pulling back further the more times he did it. You squinted the pain away and tried to focus on the captivating man above you.

You were entranced by the glistening sheen of sweat that started to form across his forehead and his heavy eyelids consumed with lust. You watched his toned abdomen contract and relax as he pumped into you, and when you looked down to where you two connected, you almost orgasmed on sight as you watched him slide in and out of your dripping cunt, his dick coated in a thick sheen of your arousal. He was so loving and gentle and your heart swelled almost painfully with the tenderness and care he was treating you with. Each thrust was calculated and intimate, you couldn’t imagine anything more perfect.

He abruptly stilled his movements, making you whine at him because you were finally getting past the pain. He stared down at you with wide eyes and brought his hand up to your face. “Y/N baby, you’re crying…” He smoothed his thumb over the dark mascara line of your tears and you were surprised with yourself. You didn’t even know you were crying. “I think we need to put this on hold, Kiyomi. I’m hurting you too badly.”

“No!” You clung onto him for dear life, shoving your face in his neck. “Seriously, Min! It barely even hurts anymore! I think… I dunno, I guess I’m just really lost in the moment…” You lifted his head up and gave him a soft kiss. “I’m just amazed at how I really don’t deserve you, Minnie…” You closed your eyes and pressed your forehead against him.

Desperate for him to continue, you rolled your hips up, making him groan. He pushed deeper and you gasped. “It’s me—“ Another deep thrust. “That doesn’t deserve you.” He slowly pulled back and looked directly into your eyes. “You deserve every wonderful thing in this world.” He slammed back into you deep and hard at the same time he captured your lips in a searing kiss.

You moaned into his lips and happily gave him access to your mouth as he collided tongues with you, followed by a long lick across the roof of your mouth. Your kisses started to turn sloppy and you mostly breathed into each other’s mouths as he rocked into you, occasionally colliding tongues as your foreheads mashed together. You started to lose control of your senses when he sat up and strengthened his thrusts, grabbing onto your hips and lifting you up using only pure muscle power to pump right into your sweet spot. His manic movements were causing his old and rickety high school bed to creak and bang against the wall furiously.

“Oh shit! Fuck! Right there Min! Oh god!” You could slightly see the smirk cross his lips from the pride of his efforts, but it was quickly replaced with a look of determination and euphoria. “Please d-don’t stop! P-please Minnie! I’m so close—!“

“Me too, baby—“ He started to replace his power with speed, repeatedly pounding against your delicious bundle of nerves and making your body shake in ecstasy. Your hooked legs around him clenched him closer and deeper with each thrust. You could feel his thrusts start to get sloppy and you dared to look down at his throbbing cock impaling you over and over again.

That finished you. You screamed as you came all over the bed coverings and his twitching dick, your clenching walls causing Minho to empty into the condom himself with a choked growl. His stuttering hips rode out both of your orgasms and he fell on top of you, sticky sweat coating both of your bodies.

The only noise that filled the air was the mingling of both of your heavy breaths and the approaching summer night’s cicadas. You wrapped your arms around your exhausted lover and kissed his shoulder, running feather light fingers up and down his back and through his sweaty hair. It was an interesting sensation to feel Minho’s erection slowly soften inside you.

After a moment he pulled out and tied the condom, disposing it in the bin by his bed. When he returned to your side, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you on top of his chest. He closed the distance of your lips and kissed you languidly and intimately.

You eventually pulled back and rested your forehead against his, breathing into his mouth. “That was even better than I could have ever imagined. I love you so fucking much…”

“I love you too, my little mouse.” You smiled against his lips and left a chaste kiss against his mouth before sitting up and scooting to the edge of the bed. “Where do you think you're going?”

“Oh, well I hate to break it to you, but I only stuck around for your dick. I’m actually gonna head back home and find another boy-toy.” You winked at him and he looked furious. He lunged for you and you screech-laughed as he pinned you down.

“You think you’re funny, huh? You’re lucky I only had the one condom or else I’d be making you scream right now.” A delicious shiver ran up your spine and you lost your cheeky smirk from before.

“Well… um… I may or may not have gotten an IUD a month or two back…” His face turned completely gobsmacked. You felt partially guilty for not telling him that the doctor basically said it would be difficult for you to get pregnant at all with all of the previous internal damage you had suffered.

“Fuck, Kiyomi. You’re going to kill me…” His lips attacked you again and, if you weren’t already sore and tired as all hell, you would totally be down for round two.

You reluctantly pushed him away and rolled him off of you, making him whine. “I need to shower and sleep so I can be alive tomorrow! You big baby. You made me wait long enough, it’s your turn bitch.” The smirk on your face, however, was wiped off when you tried to stand and your legs buckled underneath you like a baby deer.

You flopped back onto the bed and Minho cooed at you. “Aww, is my mouse tired? Too much exertion for her weak little body?” You glared at him and his petulant baby voice. “Don’t worry, baby girl. I’ll help you.” Before you knew it, Minho had hooked his arms underneath your knees and was lifting you into the air.

“Minho! What the fuck?! I’m too heavy!”

“Tsk. Please.” He said sarcastically.. “I’ve lifted paperweights heavier than you.” He rolled his eyes. “Plus, I've already carried you several times before! I don’t know why you’re only saying this now!”

“I’ve gained weight since then!”

He scoffed. “Ah, yes, very true. Now you weigh about two paperweights.”

You huffed and clung onto his shoulders. “Fuck you…”

He responded with a wink. “Any time you like, darling.”

Once he entered the bathroom, he plopped you down on the vanity countertop and turned on the shower to warm up. You took a few moments to, once again, appreciate his beautiful naked body. All of his muscles were beautifully toned and he wasn’t too buff or sculpted like some beefcake. He looked like a goddamned piece of art, a true personification of a dance statue. His skin was absolutely flawless like chiseled marble and as soft as silk. His ass was the perfect balance of plump and toned.

When he returned to you, you could see hearts in his eyes as he looked at your lustful face. You could never fathom what he saw in you. You reached out to him with a pout and grabby hands and he chuckled. Without any words, he stepped in between your legs that were dangling off of the counter and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“How did I fall in love with such a bratty, badass little mouse?” He said in a low voice as he leaned in to kiss you long and languidly. “You think you can stand in the shower, jagi?” You smiled as you nodded at him, standing up with newborn legs and taking his hand to step into the blissfully hot shower.

You leaned your head back underneath the water and sighed. This has to be one of the best days I’ve ever experienced, you thought as you felt the trickling heat loosen your tense muscles. You melted as you felt two strong arms wrap around your waist from behind. You leaned your head against his chest and closed your eyes, the two of you swaying under the water in silence.

He was sweet and gentle as he helped you clean your skin and wash your hair for you, delectably massaging you all the while. He was a truly perfect man. You spent most of the shower lazily kissing and embracing each other.

Once the two of you finished getting ready for bed, you thanked yourself (and Felix for buying it) for bringing a lace and satin, mint green camisole. Once you slipped it on and Minho got in bed with only a pair of boxers on, he looked at your dressings and glared at you. “Are you wanting me to ruin you? Because that kind of bullshit is a one way ticket to getting cross eyed screwed.”

You fluttered your eyes and sat on your knees next to Minho on the sheets, slightly emphasizing your breasts (that had blessedly started filling out with weight gain) as you puffed out your chest. “I thought this was your favorite color, baby.” You flourished your sweet words with a slight lilt to your voice. You crawled to hover over him with your upper body to whisper against his lips. “If you want to ruin me, your going to have to earn it, kitty cat.” And with that, you left a peck on his lips and rolled over to lay down, facing away from the shirtless, baffled man.

You suddenly felt a strong arm around you yanking you tight to his chest. “You’re a fucking tease, little mouse. One day, I’ll make you learn your lesson.” You just hummed in response and rolled over to face him, still encased in his warm embrace.

Once you threw an arm and a leg over him and snuggled into the heat of his chest, he completely melted, letting a heavy sigh escape his mouth. “It's weird that I get to tell you I love you, my MeanHoe.”

You felt him squeeze you tighter. “Wow, that was almost romantic.” You giggled into his chest, smelling your freshly brushed, minty breath hit his chest and waft back into your senses. “But I love you too, my bratty mouse.” He kissed the top of your head that was snuggling ever closer into him. “Sweet dreams, jagi.”

You were already drifting off as you heard the words leave his mouth. Fading to black with a smile spread across your features.

- - - - - - - - - -

You couldn’t run fast enough. With every step, you felt him getting closer, breathing down your neck. You could see Chan in the distance, standing outside his house back in Australia and waiting for you with open arms. You desperately wanted to be held by him. You wanted to feel safe again. Wanted to feel loved again by the only person who ever loved you. However he wasn’t the only person now. You could see Minho stand up next to him, both of them exchanging worried looks to each other then back at you.

You were using all of your strength to reach them, but you felt like you were going at a snail’s pace, barely moving an inch at a time. You could feel the fingertips of the man trying to grab you, just barely out of reach, and you thrashed your body away from every touch.

Out of nowhere, you heard a loud crack in the air. A boom that you knew all too well. The boys that were your whole world were no longer in front of you and you could no longer move. You could feel something was wrong. Your hand traveled to your stomach to feel the warm, sticky substance and you looked down to see blood seeping through your thin camisole and onto your hand. You were surprisingly calm. Like you secretly always knew that your past would catch up to you, making you defenseless in the end.

The hand behind you grabbed your arm and threw you to the ground. You watched in silent defeat as your father stood over you and your mother faced the other way. The blood draining from your body made you violently shake. Seriously, you felt your body uncontrollably spasming around on the ground like you were being shaken furiously–

“Y/N!!! Wake up! Baby, please!” You gasped for air as you watched Minho grabbing your arms and shaking you violently. “Kiyomi, baby…” He hugged you tightly. “It’s okay, love. You’re okay…” You hadn’t even realized that you were sobbing loudly until he wiped the tears from your eyes and kissed your forehead. “It was just a dream, baby. It’s okay now. I’m here. I’m always here.”

Sadly, this wasn’t the only nightmare you’d had from your past, but it was definitely worse than others. “I’m so s-sorry Min. I w-woke you up…” You stuttered through your trembling voice.

“Shut up. Don’t be ridiculous. I’m always going to be here for you. Always …” Your heart palpitated with these words. Always. He said always.

You hugged him tightly and silently cried into his chest. There was a long while - you don’t even know how long - where the two of you laid against each other in silence. You, coming down from your panic attack and him, comfortingly smoothing his hand up and down your back. “Minnie?” He responded with a questioning hum. “What if I still haven’t escaped them? What if… what if they are looking for me…”

He stilled his movements and was quiet for a minute. “Then we will protect you. All of us. I won’t let anything happen to you, Y/N.”

You looked up at his face with tears in your eyes. “How can you know that for sure?”

He looked back at you and smiled sadly. “Because I'm not the only one that loves you. They all do too, dummy. Their love may be in a different way, but you are one of us. No one will hurt the family we have become. No one .”

You knew it was foolish but, just once, you wanted to believe it.

- - - - - - - - - -

The weekend was full of Minho taking you around his hometown and showing you a whole bunch of places from his childhood. He taught you how to fish, showed you cute little shopping strips, and took you on romantic dates. You met some of his old friends and they were more than complimentary toward you. The teasing of Minho was relentless and you couldn’t get enough of it. It really was the most ideal and wonderful first time going to see where Minho grew to become the man of your dreams.

Sunday morning after the two of you woke up and Minho cooked you a phenomenal breakfast, you wanted to get presentable again before Minho’s parents returned home that evening. “I’m gonna go take a shower, Minnie!” You yelled behind your retreating frame to Minho who was still cleaning up the kitchen.

“Sounds good!” You were beaming with pent up happiness as you stepped in the bathroom and stripped off your clothes. You were all too eager to take a relaxing shower.

The hot water cascaded down your hair and you tilted your head back to take in the exceptional pleasure of the soothing heat. Yesterday had been so packed full of activities that you automatically crashed after returning to the house. You felt disgusting and you sighed at the relieving feeling of getting clean again.

You must have been lost in your own head thinking about the amazing previous day that you didn’t hear Minho come in, because you jolted in surprise when you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around you from behind.

“Jesus, Min! You about gave me a heart attack!” You slapped his forearm that was wrapped around your waist, to which he just chuckled wickedly and placed a chaste kiss on your shoulder. The two of you stood in silence under the water, happy with just existing in each other’s presence.

After a moment, he removed one of his hands from your waist and ran it over the back of your drenched hair, moving it to the side of your shoulder and tucking his head into the crook of the bare side of your neck. Once he returned his hand to its previous position wrapped around your waist, you could feel the wet heat of his mouth press just below your jaw. His hands dipped down to your hips and he pulled you closer to him.

You let out a long, satisfied sigh and leaned your head over to lay back against him to give him more access. This seemed to spur him on more as he ran his tongue over your pulse and up to suck hard right behind your ear. There was no way that there wasn’t going to be a hickey there later, but you didn’t care anymore. If need be, you could cover it with makeup or your hair. Your knees went weak when he suddenly snuck his left hand down to your clit and started rolling it between his fingers, coaxing a breathy croon from your lips.

Your vagina still hurt tremendously from the other day, but you could feel yourself getting painfully horny again, and you knew he was too once you could feel his hard-on pressing against your tailbone. You figured you could handle a bit more pain. Why not?

You spun yourself around in his arms and smashed your lips against his, tongues and teeth clashing. He seemed just as eager as you as he grabbed two handfuls of your ass and pulled you flush to his erection, squishing and massaging your plush cheeks in the process. You moaned into his mouth and tried to wrap a leg around him. He obviously took the hint as he lifted you up around his waist and pressed you up against the tiled wall.

“Shit, I’m a weak man. You’re too addicting.” He whispered as he frantically kissed down your neck. You started to feel desperate as you could feel him so close to your entrance. Your body moved on its own to try and wiggle around to feel him against you.

“Min…” You whined. “God, please just fuck me.” He looked like he was fighting an internal battle. You were quickly losing your dignity as you realized you were literally begging him to ruin you.

“Oh yeah?” He slipped his hand in between your bodies and grazed over your clit again. “You want that, little mouse? Want me to fuck you up into the wall?” His fingers found their way through your pussy lips and teased at your entrance.

You tried to grind down on his fingers but his strong hold under your ass kept you firm in his grasp. “Minnie… please…” You looked and sounded pathetic - you knew you did - but the feeling of your walls fluttering around nothing due to him circling your opening was driving you insane. You huffed in frustration. “You can cum on my face if you want, but I just need you in me right now .”

You saw his fiery gaze waver only slightly before returning with a vengeance. “As you wish, my good girl.” He slipped his fingers in to get you nice and stretched, digging right up against your sensitive bundle of nerves and making you twitch and fall apart in his arms. Your squeaks and high-pitched grunts earned an evil grin from Minho as he upped his efforts. Once he felt you were fully prepped, he pumped his erection a couple times before he swiftly lined up to harshly slam into you. You gasp-squeaked and wrapped your arms around his neck, compressing your upper bodies tightly. You wanted him as close as possible, both inside and out. You left open-mouthed kisses against his shoulder between your breathy yelps and croons. He was relentless. He enraptured you into a haze of pain-pleasure as he pounded into you. He fucked you into the wall just like he said he would and his labored breaths fell heavily on the side of your back. “Kiyomi– *ngh* –you feel so fucking good.”

You could only respond with a choked gasp as he rammed into you with a particularly harsh thrust. “F-fu–” There were no words. As much as you tried, your body and voice were no longer yours. They were his. His to control and mold into immense pleasure, leaving you stuttering like a complete brain-dead whore.

He sped up furiously and you couldn’t even fathom how he had the strength to not only hold you up, but also fuck into you so enthusiastically. You could feel your high quickly approaching as he painfully nailed into your cervix and rolled into your g-spot. After a particularly painful thrust, you borderline screamed as you came all over his cock. “B-babe… I–I’m–” He sounded frantic.

You could tell he was just about to cum from his choppy thrusts and you quickly hopped off of him and sank down to your knees, trying to ignore the throbbing in between your legs. The shower water uncomfortably sprayed the side of your face, but you couldn’t be bothered with it as you were preoccupied with stuffing your mouth with dick to help him chase his orgasm. He fucked deep into your mouth and you tried to hold back your gags as you swallowed his length. Without warning he whipped himself out and jerked himself in your face, painting you white as your mouth hung open.

You watched his face as he rode out his orgasm and you’d never seen or heard anything more beautiful in your life. His breathy, velvety groan when he came was music to your ears and you never thought getting manjam all over your face and hair would be so exhilarating. You stood up and let him get a good look at his artwork. “Holy shit…” He breathed against your cum covered lips. He then promptly ran two fingers across the strings of white fluid and shoved his fingers in your open mouth, making you wrap your lips around them and suck seductively. “Damn, you are fucking unreal.”

You quickly rinsed off his sperm so you could dive right back into kissing him. You had wrapped your arms around his neck and you kissed him with a gentleness that showed your appreciation. He cupped his hand over your cheek as you parted and looked into your eyes lovingly. As you looked back at him with a similar expression, basking in the silent moment, you decided to speak up. “My pussy hurts like a motherfucker.”

His face morphed into one of pure bemusement. “Way to ruin the moment, brat.”

“What?! It’s the truth! Your dick destroyed me! You're lucky that I was horny enough to go again!” You turned around to finally start showering yourself with a proud pout as he chuckled.

He wrapped his arms around you again, similar to his previous position, whispering in your ear. “Extremely lucky. Your cunt feels like heaven.” He pressed a chaste kiss against your cheek as you shivered. You used to hate that word but it sounded so delicious coming from his mouth. Probably your new favorite.

Your libido must have been through the roof that day because as you both showered off, all you wanted to do was jump on him. Thankfully, your body was too weak and exhausted to do anything marginally active.

- - - - - - - - - -

When Minho’s parents arrived back home, they greeted you with open arms again. As promised, Minho’s mom showed you all of the embarrassing childhood photos of him and his adorable, nerdy, high school selcas.

Minho’s dad patted him on the back as he lamented and protested the entire time. You cooed an extraordinary amount of times and gave Minho shit-eating glances, earning you daggers for eyes.

During dinner, just like Minho said, he and his mom worked together to create the most succulent, delicious Kkanpunggi Chicken you have ever tasted. The table was packed with food. Kimchi, pork dumplings, and kimbap covered all corners and you quickly found out where Minho got his habit of force-feeding you. With the three of them combined coaxing you to eat everything and your will to not want to displease them, you ate until you felt sick and your back hurt with the pressure of fullness. It took an immense amount of concentration not to throw it all up with the slightest movement.

Small talk was easier than you thought it would be. You and Minho’s dad discussed how well you were adjusting to the transition to Korea and all the differences and you discussed with his mom how you liked everything at school.

“So, Y/N, what do your parents do for a living?” Fuck. You supposed you should have anticipated this, family was of great importance in Korea and it only made sense that his dad would ask, but still…

You subconsciously wrung your hands together in your lap under the table and had an internal panic attack just thinking about them. You could feel Minho burning holes into you with his eyes but you couldn’t bring yourself to look anywhere but his parents' awaiting faces.

“That’s not impor—“

“Not much, they just run a small family business. Mostly just transporting goods.” You cut Minho off before he could utter another word. It’s not really a lie, right? They technically transport 'goods'... Their contented smiles stayed on their faces and nodded.

Minho’s mom propped her elbows up on the table and rested her head on her knuckles. “How lovely! Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“No ma’am, it’s just me.” You said easily with a polite smile. “Only child just like Minho!” You cheerfully said while looking at Minho, hoping to ease his tension. By the look on his face, you weren’t entirely successful.

“Awe, well your parents must miss you terribly. I can’t imagine what it would be like if Minnie was in an entirely different country.” Your heart ached with the realization that you would never have that.

But…

You still had Chan’s parents…

You would talk to them a couple times a month and they would check on you, tell you they missed you and Chan, and tried to refuse your money every time. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself that you did, in fact, have parents that loved you and missed you unconditionally.

You smiled up at your boyfriend’s parents and confidently spoke. “Yes, eomeonim. I’m sure they do.”

- - - - - - - - - -

You reluctantly bid your farewells to his parents as Minho finished packing up the car. You warmly hugged his parents goodbye and his dad told you to come back any time ‘free of charge’ he said with a chuckle to which you couldn’t help but giggle in return.

You watched Minho’s parents retreating frames as the two of you drove away, heart swollen and contented with your perfect weekend getaway. You turned back to the man in the driver's seat as he silently grabbed your hand to kiss your knuckles. You smirked at him.

“You’ve been too nice to me. When we get back home are you going to be a pain in my ass again?” A smug smile took place on his lips.

“Only if you’re lucky.” He winked at you from the side and you giggled.

The trip back passed surprisingly quickly and the two of you were almost back home. You were excited to finally see Chan and get everything off your chest.

When your phone started buzzing, you were startled at the irony when you saw Chan’s contact popped up. “Hey, hun! I was just about to call you to let you know we are headed back! Almost home now!”

“Nice, how are the boys?” His voice sounded very flat and almost even pissed.

“Th-they’re great! We had a great time!” For some reason, you were starting to feel anxious and apprehensive.

It was silent for a moment and then Chan spoke up. “Is Sung available? I need to ask him something.” Your stomach dropped out of your ass.

You puffed out a nervous chuckle and Minho gave you a confused expression. “Nah, he’s passed out in the back right now. Eventful weekend, you know?”

More silence.

“Y/N.” Okay, using your first name confirms that he was pissed. “In all of the years I have known you, I have never seen you so shamelessly lie to me.” Your heart sank. Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped. “It’s funny how you think that I wouldn’t see Jisung around. Considering we work together and I can blatantly see when he clocks in and out.”

You knew that Jisung had to work, but he reassured you that it was nowhere near the hours that Chan was working. This was definitely a factor that you three had overlooked. “Channie…”

“Save it, Y/N. I don’t know what the fuck you think you’re doing, and I know you had some sort of reason—“ You could feel tears build up in your eyes. “—but whatever the reason, I never expected you to lie to me about it.”

The tears were falling more consistently now. “Channie let me—“ your voice was uncontrollably shaky.

“You‘ve been a completely different person lately, Y/N.” He sounded like you had broken him. “If I’m not able to trust you anymore, don’t bother coming back.”

“Channie—!!!” He instantly hung up the phone and you found that you...

...you were suffocating.

You felt like every breath you took was filled with water and your face burnt from the friction of your hands rubbing your streams of tears away unsuccessfully. There was a ringing in your ears and the constant words of ‘don’t bother coming back’ filled your entire being. It was happening again.

You’re worthless .

You aren’t welcome .

You deserve to be alone .

You could feel a hand shaking you but could barely hear the muffled yelling of the man next to you past the overflowing thoughts in your head.

No one loves you.

You’re just a tool.

‘Find somewhere else to sleep tonight, bitch. I want you out of my sight.'

Your father’s words ran on repeat in your head and you wanted to smash in your own brains to escape them. You could feel your body close in on itself and your chest palpitate with hyperventilation. You were minutely aware of the door opening next to you and strong arms lifting your balled up form.

You didn’t care what happened to you anymore. You deserved nothing but to be used and discarded. Your mind brought you back to the nights you would wander the streets all night without any place to go. You didn’t want to burden Chan, and yet, here you were. You were more of a burden to Chan and his family than anything in this world.

You. Are. Nothing.

Your vision was blurred with tears and the dazed over pain of your mind. You didn’t know what was happening around you and you couldn’t remember anything but Chan’s words.

‘...don’t bother coming back.’

You suddenly felt warm all over. A pressure consumed your body like a comforting cocoon and you melted into it. The cold, stiff tension in your body subsided and your body allowed you to feel again. You could hear yourself sobbing and realized that you had been all along, along with the repeated words of ‘worthless, I’m worthless’. With this realization, you allowed yourself a breather from the frantic words escaping your mouth.

The suffocating air had minutely thinned to an acceptable viscosity and you could feel your nerve endings returning to a modicum of function. First, you felt the soft embrace of your favorite blanket. Fluffy and thick with the perfect amount of weight to it. Second, you felt arms squeezing you tightly and a body pressed against your front and another from your back in a warm embrace. Lastly, you felt gentle hands comb through your hair and over your scalp, soothing the heat that was coursing through your brain.

You were starting to realize that you were having an anxiety attack. The last time you had one was during the last years that Chan was gone and you rationalized your mind to figure out how to climb out of it again. You focused on the feelings around you, trying desperately to escape the relentless thoughts coursing through your brain. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. You discovered that these words were being told to you by the arms around you. The fog in your vision started to clear and the light blinded you. Your eyes adjusted and you could see tendrils of curly, dirty blond hair in your field of vision.

The tears that were streaming down your face had decreased in consistency and you could feel the pain in your throat from the strain of your sobs. You could feel an aching in your back from being hunched over and you instinctively straightened up, stretching out the dull throbbing. You felt the hands loosen around you and realized you had two pairs of eyes plastered to your ugly crying face.

You allowed yourself to accept the focus of your surroundings. You were in your room, centered on your bed with a blanket around you and two men surrounding you.

Then you focused on the man in front of you. Chan.

Your brother.

Your savior.

The sanctuary that had always been your beacon of light.

You broke out in sobs again as you clung to him for dear life. Afraid that if you let him go, you would lose him forever. You couldn’t hold on tight enough, close enough. Even though you could feel him hug you back, your body wrapped around him like a monkey, arms and legs circling his entire form. Your face buried in the crook of his neck and you could feel tears and snot rub up against his ivory skin.

“Ch-Channie! D-don’t leave me! P-please!” You were frantic. You were almost screaming out your plea’s to him. “Don’t th-throw me out! I love you! I’m s-so s-sorry! Please! Please !” You were clawing at his shirt as your body begged to cling onto him.

“Shhh shhh, you’re okay, love. It’s okay.” His soothing voice was being drowned out by your sobbing. He smoothed circles over your back with his wide hand. “Don’t be afraid, Kiyomi. I’m right here. You’re not going to lose me, baby girl. I’ll always be here.” You weren’t entirely sure, but you could have sworn you heard a crack in his voice and felt the wet heat of tears settle on your shoulder.

You weren’t sure how long time had passed. With the gentle shushes and the rocking and swaying of Chan holding you, time was irrelevant. “D-don’t leave me Channie…” You whispered against the soaked crook of his neck. Your throat was raspy and you could feel your eyes were swollen and strained.

“Shhh, I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. And neither are you… I’m so sorry, baby girl.” His voice was gentle and soothing, even if you could hear the lump in his throat.

You hiccupped back your sob. “I’M the one that’s sorry, Channie. So fucking sorry… I lied… I deserve to be thrown out on the streets.”

You felt him pull back and you picked up your breathing in a panic. That was until he grabbed your face with both hands. “Don’t you ever FUCKING say that, Kiyomi. I’m a goddamned piece of shit for even THINKING of saying that to you. You deserve better than me, Kiyomi. God, I’m so fucking sorry!”

You watched as the tears streamed down his face and by pure instinct, you stopped all thoughts other than wanting to make him quit hurting. “Why are you apologizing, Channie? I’m the one that fucked up…” You wrapped your arms around him who now had his crying face buried in his hands.

“I’m such a fucking idiot! I hurt you, Kiyomi. I swear to fucking god I will never forgive myself!”

“D-don’t you dare say that, Channie!” He popped his head up at your angry outburst. “I did this. I’m the one who fucked up. You deserve to hate me. After everything you’ve done for me, I hid this from you…”

Chan glanced behind you and you realized that Minho had been sitting behind you the whole time. “I can understand why you did, sweetheart. And that’s my fault too…” You looked at him with wide eyes. Did he already know? “Minho told me everything... I was the one who tried to forbid you from being together… I’m the one who made things harder on you…”

“Y-you…” You looked back at Minho with worried eyes.

He offered a sad smile and caressed your face. You were sure you could feel Chan stiffen underneath you, but you elected to focus your attention on your lover. “Come on, my little mouse. We can talk about this later. Let’s just calm down for now.” He held out his hand and you eagerly took it, trading your embrace from Chan, to Minho.

- - - - - - - - - -

“I’m so sorry Channie… I really was planning on telling you…” The three of you were sitting in the living room with the comfort of junk food and anime in the background filling the room. There was definitely tension, but you could tell that it was minimized for your sake.

Chan sighed. “I’m not going to lie and say that I am thrilled with the prospect of you being together, but…” Chan focused his sights on Minho. “Min says he is in love with you… and I am choosing to trust him.” His eyes turned into daggers. “But I swear to god, Min, if you hurt her, you better pray that I don’t find your sorry ass.”

Minho doesn’t scare easily. Hell, he is usually the scariest one in the group. But you could see the panic in his eyes as Chan spoke those words. “I wouldn’t dare…” Minho looked at you like you hung the moon. “She means more to me than anyone in the world…”

You could feel your doe eyes glue to his as a single tear dropped from your eye. Minho reached his hand out and folded your hand in his. There was a moment of silence before Chan decided to add a meek response. “Kiyomi… I can’t express to you how sorry I am for saying that to you. I don’t know what was going through my head, but I hate myself for it. I hate to know that I am the one that caused your panic attack when I swore to myself that I would always be the one to ease them…” He glanced over at Minho with what looked like a tiny smile. “I suppose I have Minho to thank for taking care of you when I couldn’t…”

You were completely lost. What exactly had happened when you were trapped in your mental confinement? You must have shown your confusion on your face because Minho stroked your hair as he spoke up. “I didn’t know what happened on the phone with Chan-hyung, but I definitely knew something was wrong when you wouldn’t respond or look at me…” His face turned downcast. “You… you started screaming and crying and…” He swallowed dry. “I rushed to get you out of the car and carry you inside.”

Chan piped up from where he was looking at his fiddling hands. “When I opened the door and saw the state you were in and Minho’s panicked face, I knew that I had caused this. What I did to you…” His face lifted to Minho again. “I may not like the prospect of you two together… but I at least know that you are in good hands…”

Minho's face went dead serious as he straightened up. “I will do everything in my power to treat her how she deserves, hyung.” Minho softly smiled at you. “Because she deserves the world…”

________________________________________

If you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading all three parts! Please like, follow, and share! Thanks baby stays! 😘

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