#and i will tell you that i am LOSING IT over this drawing
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gpcwsl · 1 day ago
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Warnings: Kissing, short?
Leah Williamson x Reader:
Title: Two Weeks To Love
MasterList
Leah Williamson slouched into her seat at the coffee shop, her smirk as self-assured as ever. The late-afternoon sun poured through the windows, highlighting her sharp features and the cocky gleam in her blue eyes. You, seated across from her, were doing your best to focus on your latte rather than the ridiculous proposition she had just thrown at you.
“Say that again,” you said, setting your cup down.
Leah’s grin widened. “I bet I can make you fall in love with me in two weeks.”
A laugh escaped you, loud enough to draw a few curious glances from other patrons. “Leah, you’re ridiculous. What makes you think you could possibly pull that off?”
Leah leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “Because I know you. Better than anyone else does. And I’m pretty irresistible when I want to be.”
You rolled your eyes. “Your confidence is astounding. But fine. Two weeks. Show me what you’ve got. But when you lose—and you will—you owe me dinner at La Stella.”
“And when I win,” Leah said, extending her hand with a grin, “you admit I’m irresistible and you pay for dinner.”
“Deal,” you said, shaking her hand.
As her fingers lingered just a little too long against yours, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d just made a terrible mistake.
The first morning of the bet, you were greeted by a soft knock on your apartment door. Groaning, you shuffled to the entrance in your pajamas, only to find Leah standing there with a bouquet of your favorite flowers.
“Morning,” she said, her tone far too cheerful for such an early hour.
You blinked at her. “Flowers? Really? You’re starting with clichés?”
Leah leaned against the doorframe, unfazed. “It’s only a cliché if it doesn’t work. And judging by the fact that you haven’t slammed the door in my face, I’d say it’s working.”
You rolled your eyes, taking the bouquet from her. “Thanks, I guess. But this doesn’t mean anything.”
Leah smirked. “We’ll see about that.”
By the fifth day, Leah’s charm offensive was impossible to ignore. She texted you every morning with a cheerful “Good morning, beautiful” and ended each night with a thoughtful message that always left you smiling.
That evening, you found yourself at her place for a movie night. It had started innocently enough, with popcorn and a debate over what to watch. But as the movie played, you became acutely aware of how close she was sitting.
When Leah reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, her fingers grazing your skin, your breath caught.
“Am I making you nervous?” she teased, her voice low.
“Of course not,” you lied, your heart racing.
Leah’s smile softened as she leaned in closer, her gaze dropping to your lips. “Tell me to stop,” she whispered.
You didn’t.
Her lips met yours in a kiss that was soft and slow, yet it sent sparks shooting through your entire body. When she finally pulled back, her eyes searched yours.
“Still think you’re going to win this bet?” she murmured, her voice laced with confidence.
You swallowed hard, your mind spinning. “One kiss doesn’t mean anything,” you managed to say, though even you didn’t believe it.
Leah smirked. “Sure it doesn’t.”
On the seventh day, Leah took you to a rooftop overlooking the city. The sky was painted in hues of pink and orange as the sun set, the buildings glowing in the golden light.
“This is beautiful,” you said, leaning against the railing.
Leah stood beside you, her gaze fixed on your face rather than the view. “It’s nothing compared to you.”
You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t stop the warmth spreading through your chest. “Do you ever stop with the cheesy lines?”
“Not when they work,” Leah said with a grin.
The air between you grew heavier as silence fell. Leah hesitated for a moment before reaching out to brush her fingers against yours.
“I brought you here because this place means a lot to me,” she said quietly. “And so do you.”
Your breath hitched at her words, your heart thudding in your chest. Without thinking, you turned to face her fully. Leah’s eyes searched yours, and before you could talk yourself out of it, you leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss.
This one was different—deeper, more purposeful. When you finally pulled away, Leah’s grin was soft but triumphant.
“Does that mean I’m winning?” she teased.
You laughed, shaking your head. “Don’t push your luck.”
By day ten, Leah’s relentless charm had worn down your defenses. Every small gesture—from the way she remembered your favorite snacks to how she always made time for you—felt entirely too genuine.
One night, as you walked home together after dinner, she slipped her hand into yours.
“You’re quieter than usual,” she said, glancing at you. “What’s on your mind?”
You hesitated, your emotions swirling. “You’re… different than I thought you’d be during this bet,” you admitted.
Leah raised an eyebrow. “Different how?”
“More real,” you said softly.
She stopped walking, turning to face you. “That’s because it is real,” she said, her voice steady. “It always has been.”
Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.
The final day arrived, and Leah took you to the same rooftop where she had first opened up to you. The city lights twinkled below, the cool night air wrapping around you like a blanket.
“So,” Leah said, leaning against the railing, “two weeks are up. Did I win?”
You turned to her, your chest tightening. This was it—the moment of truth.
“You’re impossible,” you said, shaking your head. “I fought it so hard, but… you won, Leah. You didn’t just win the bet. You won me.”
For a moment, Leah stared at you, her expression unreadable. Then she broke into a grin so wide it made your heart ache.
“Finally,” she said, stepping closer. “For the record, I’ve been in love with you long before this stupid bet.”
You laughed, tears pricking your eyes. “You’re infuriating, you know that?”
Leah cupped your face in her hands, her smile softening. “Yeah,” she said, “but you love me anyway.”
She kissed you then, slow and tender, as if she had all the time in the world. And in that moment, you realized she did—because she had you.
The bet might have started as a game, but what it brought you was far more real than anything you could have imagined.
Sitting on Leah’s couch weeks later, her arms wrapped around you as you laughed at one of her bad jokes, you knew one thing for certain: two weeks was all it took for her to change everything.
And you wouldn’t have it any other way.
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saltedsolenoid · 11 months ago
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❓️
GIRL WHO IS SO
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deoidesign · 4 months ago
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Thinks about my next series again... I drew the icon for it!
I'm planning to have it launched within a year! I'm hoping for summer 2025. I want to make a prelaunch page before Time and Time Again ends so people can subscribe if they're interested, but I'm worried the series return would be too early...
#SORRY HAHAHA REPOSTING IMMEDIATELY#i. it. IM SORRY okay the.#i had 'im not interested in the comic' as an option but it immediately made me feel bad#DONT FEEL BAD IF YOU PICKED IT i put it there#i just realized its not really a helpful metric to me at all!#im making the comic either way!#so i just want to gague interest. disinterest doesnt do much for me. you can come and go as you please!#just wanting to retain readers as much as possible but without losing them due to taking too long#ahhhh the balance of marketing. a beautiful beast she is.#anyways yeah hoping to launch like about as tta is ending#or like at LEAST a prelaunch page by then#im also not intending for the prelaunch page to be like. announced...#moreso just a link i append on art for the series!#just so when a drawing of zagan gets 500 notes#people who are interested in what hes from can. see that...#anyways. sorry i haven't been posting work is wild im going 70+ hours a week again i am so tired#not much time to draw non work stuff#im hanging on by a thread of having multiple projects i can bounce between again#and sometimes thats this one! so heres the results of some mental health work variety#we were legion#polls#sorry for the instant repost. in my defense. i am exhausted.#i can not wait until im making a different comic that i can do a fucking. normal ass schedule with#where im not every week gasping for breath in some kind of bad at swimming metaphor.#anyways if youre not interested dont tell me. it doesnt matter to me. no offense but i just dont wanna hear it.#i want to make the comic and my audience as much as i love you all is not going to have any control over what i do with my art#im gonna make this comic if i only get it done on weekends after getting home from the fuckin movie theater#i am not working for webtoon again wnd im not forcing myself into the dirt for comics again#but im also never gonna stop making them. just need to build a healthier relationship!#FUCK I MADE IT A ONE DAY POLL.
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hplonesomeart · 1 month ago
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Hey. Sorry about the inactivity, but pretty sure no one cared that much anyways lol. Been a looooong time since I kept that distant from Tumblr…at least now I know I’m able to survive without checking posts every day/being chronically online! I’ve got an intense love-hate relationship with this lifestyle I’ve dug myself into. Think I’m getting a little bit better with the balance even if school isn’t really giving me an option. Got a load of work I need to keep catching up on if I don’t want to disappoint my professors. We’ll survive somehow. Here take a quick batch of Puzzle doodles k bye
#the hell am I so anxious about? maybe it’s just overstimulation stuff#hoping it’ll die down because I can’t keep enjoying myself when I’m like this#seriously is starting to mess with my flight responses over the tiniest things#like yea obviously I needed to stay logged out of Tumblr so I would focus more on schoolwork#but uhhhh gonna be transparent and say a huge part of it is the jolts of anxiety :(#like even the thought of logging back here has caused me to feel like sweating#my brain kept saying ‘no I don’t want to I can’t do that’ even when I felt bad for missing out on others posts#like I want to be here so I can support my mutuals dammit!!!#I’m a mess. I’m such a broken mess oh great lovely spectacular#maybe the culminating stress of final exam deadlines is worsening stuff as well#I can’t tell you why I’m like this I just am 🙃#anyways thinking I’ll start adapting to the distance. Sorry but being a shut-in is more appealing right now#I just need time to be with myself and not be so invested in the lives of others#anyways what’s something mildly positive I can wrap this up with so I don’t seem pathetic….#ah yes the final Puzzle sketch here was drawn today before a class period#one of my fellow classmates noticed and audibly asked me ‘is that Mr. Puzzles?’#IT TOOK EVERTHING IN MY WILLPOWER TO NOT LET OUT A GIDDY SHRIEK#Felt like my eyes bulged and I jolted in enthusiasm jskjsksp spontaneous happiness?? actally experiencing the feeling of fitting in??#anyways I responded with a very normal ‘WAIT YOU KNOW ABOUT HIM???’ while trying to suppress grinning or going ‘teehee’#anyways now it’s my personal mission to keep initiating conversations with her because AUUUUUGH SHE KNOWS WHO HE IS I’M LOSING IT#proceeded to talk about Murder Drones & TADC like holy SHIT I didn’t think I would ever find animation peeps in my psychology class auuu 😭💜#it’s a MIRACLE man this may be a sign that college won’t be isolating anymore yaaaaayyy#PUZZLE IS SINGLE HANDILY HELPING ME TALK TO PEOPLE BOTH ONLINE AND IRL THIS IS WILD#all hail the best comfort character seriously holy shit—like imagine she never noticed me drawing Puzzles!! I’D STILL BE LONELY AS HELL#okay sorry I’ll stop typing like a teenager and go back to pretending to be well-versed in speech & conducting myself ‘normally’ :3#doodles#sketches#hplonesome art#not tagging with Puzzles because hahaaaaa don’t look at me
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eristhenat · 1 year ago
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「気息奄々」
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spaceratprodigy · 9 months ago
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✨🤠 It's Teddy and Zinnie Besties Hours!! 🐮✨
@oldworldwidgets — felt like we deserved something quick and silly today <3
Commission Info | Ko-Fi | My Links
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riiviir · 1 month ago
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hey guys so I just started reading Flatland by Edwin A. Abbott and OMG AHSBNSBSBSNSNBSHZHSHDBFHGGHFHGRJ2KSHSBSNSK AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I LOVE THINKING ABOUT THE RELATIVITY BETWEEN DIMENSIONS!!!!!!
#probably the nerdiest thing i will ever read in my entire life but I AM SO HAPPY#Its the unabridged and corrected 1992 republication btw. if you wanna get specific#the only book in which i have actually decided to read the introductory notes and i do NOT regret it because the editor's one IMMEDIATELY#brought up the “oh but surely the second dimension has thickness how else would flatlanders see anything” AND GAVE A REALLY GOOD ANSWER.#which i cannot tell you here. bc it is several paragraphs long and idk how i would shorten it. i would hit tag limit. if thats a thing.#anyways. I'm only a little bit into the first part which basically explains how Flatland works as a society so i haven't even gotten to the#sphere yet but OH MAN I HAVE NEVER BEEN SO EXCITED ABOUT A ROUND OBJECT IN MY LIFE#IM LOSING IT OVER THIS BOOK AAAA :D#me: im so glad i dont have a math class during my senior year! now i dont have to learn anything math-related!#also me: but what if i started studying a complex and almost entirely theoretical part of geometry#bc YEAH i didn't just buy this book bc of gravity falls. I BOUGHT IT BC IVE BEEN RESEARCHING THE 4TH DIMENSION WOOOOOOO!!!!!#one thing i will say i dont like. introductory note suggests the the 4th dimension might be time. this is ok tho bc its followed up with#also saying that time is not a spatial dimension and exist across the 0 1st 2nd and 3rd dimensions which. that epuld mean we live in 4d#already. so. i was worried for a second but THANK YOU THANK YOU OH MY GOD PEOPLE TRYING TO SAY “OH THE 4TH DIMENSION IS TIME” I HATE THAT SO#MUCH AAAAGGHHHH AT LEAST RECOGNIZE ITS NOT SPATIAL!!! TIME IS NOT A SPATIAL DIMENSION!!!!!!! IF IT WAS THEN 4D TRAVEL AND TIME TRAVEL WPULD#BE FHE SAME THING AND DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY MUCH COOLER POSSIBILITIES WPULD BE THROWN AWAY IF THAT WAS THAT CASE!!!!! AND. AND. IF THE 4TH#DIMENSION IS TIME. THEN WHATS THE 5TH?? 6TH?? YPU CANT KEEP GOINF ON FOREVER LIKE THAT. YPURE JUST MAKEING MORE 3D WORLSS WITH STUFF IN#ADDITION TO TIME. INTERESTING BUT THAY IS NOT ABOHT HIGHRER DIEMSBSJSNSBAKAJSHDHDHHDHDHDJ#sorry for the rant. jsut. agh i want a spatial 4th dimension. i dont think tesseracts exist through time that would just be an aged cube#anyways yeahhh i love the 4th dimension. new hyperfixation or new special interest? ill have to wait and see. anyways i have done it i have#an oc whos 4 dimensional now and she is the coolest ever i love her#but yeah this book is sosososo good i am literally gonna bring it to school to read instead of draw bc i would lose it if i didn't#10/10 would recommend to anyone who wants to Think
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artsy-1diot · 4 months ago
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why does inspiration feel like being mentally hit by a brick but like in a good way
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tetradic-echinoidea · 2 years ago
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Allow me to expand upon this a little bit to share my thoughts:
In this party, there are thousands and thousands of people, most of them you don't know. There's also thousands of people who have brought cakes, and every single one of them will feel dejected if no one tries their cake, or if they don't get enough positive commentary from amongst the chaos of the sea of strangers wandering around, seeing what kind of cake is being offered or even themselves carrying their own cakes.
This, inherently, is not the best situation to base your worth as a baker on, or to let determine whether or not you want to keep baking cake in the future.
(Disclaimer: I'm a professional artist who has been posting art on various forums and platforms for 18 years.)
This issue is very multifaceted - there's the current social media digital infrastructure not fascilitating art or writing well. There's the lightning fast 21st century current of constant 'content' going past people every day at all hours. There's people shouting into 'the void' and wondering, why no one is answering amongst the deafening noise of all that.
It's unfortunate, especially when you see others (most of the time people who have spent years and years cultivating their craft and an audience) get the kind of engagement you want, and you're just not getting it yourself. As much as artists aren't content machines, followers and social media users aren't constant engagement machines either. Sometimes a piece, no matter how deep the meaning behind it just doesn't manage to convey it's message to the audience it's reaching. Not all art speaks to all people. To get your audience to engage with you, the art needs to engage them first. And to achieve this consistently, you need to know what kind of audience you are presenting your work to.
Bare with me for a second here: there's this concept in dog training (that I've started to use in my mental health recovery as well, highly recommend) that in order to consistently succeed you need to set the dog up for success first by putting it in situations you know it can succeed in - that is to say, if you put it in a situation that's too difficult for the dog, it will fail. You should avoid that. How does this relate to art or the topic above you might ask? Well, especially beginner artists putting their work out on social media and expecting a certain amount or type of engagement are already setting themselves up for a failure. Like I said above it's a huge gamble, where you are fighting against all other content online for attention - it is not a fight you are likely to win.
In order to set yourself up for success, you need to ask yourself what you are actually looking for when you share your work. Think about where it is realistic to get what you want, whether that be in a smaller community or platform, or a friendgroup, or with other loved ones. Find those niche communities that like that thing exactly the same way you like it, engage with them, and they will engage with you. If you have trouble getting comments in a group setting, ask people individually. Reach out to artists and ask if they would like to give a quick comment about your art - some, like me, are happy to offer commentary and feedback!
Building an audience takes a lot, a LOT of time and patience, and willingness to withstand those times where something that spoke to you just doesn't speak to others, or it's not reaching the people it would speak to. Instead of sitting still and waiting for engagement to come to you, set yourself up for success and go to the engagement. Ask people if they'd like to try your cake, or what they thought of it. Engage with other bakers and share thoughts and tips about it.
You arrived to the party, now go offer people some cake.
“Your art isn’t valued by the number of notes you get” okay but. If you spent 6 hours baking a cake for a party, but no one at the party eats your cake, it’s still disappointing.
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unanottexxx · 10 months ago
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i was drawing while looking completely normal; hunched, bended towards table and had a calm, focused expression on my face. but inside, i was losing my mind. i was pulling a whole ass yotaro "im actually scared of drawing" panel. but i looked normal. it's so weird to me that i can lose my mind while sitting there and doing something i don't even have to. i was lying in my bed carefree and i chose to lose my freaking mind and be scared over some pen and paper. casually, of course. i lost my mind so casually even i was amazed by it.
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crushmeeren · 2 months ago
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just imagine taunting touya or katsuki while having sex… asking if he can handle you… telling him he can’t make you cum
i am losing my mind 😭 i love ur works!
friend, this is…. diabolical. I LOVE IT. [and thank you.] /ᐠ. .ᐟ\ฅ
༝ ᭝ ༝ brief warning for some degradation used by touya. ༝ ᭝ ༝
master list link. ༝ ᭝ ༝ @pixelcafe-network
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༝ ᭝ ༝ katsuki ༝ ᭝ ༝
This is something I can see very clearly happening when you first start having sex with Katsuki.
It’s the third or fourth time. The burn in your thighs worsens the longer you bounce on Katsuki’s cock, and sweat beads in the valley between your tits, trailing down your sternum.
Surprisingly enough, it didn’t become like pulling teeth to convince him to hand over the reigns.
Now, you brace your hands on his firm, flushed chest, supporting your weight, and roll your hips back and forth in his lap. The tip of his cock is pressed firm against your g-spot, and you’re rewarded with hot sparks of pleasure bursting in your pelvis with each slow circle of your hips.
Katsuki’s fingers dig desperately into your waist, nails pinching your skin, and his breath catches when your pussy squeezes him. His lids flutter, a low moan spills from his lips.
You slow your hips, just to tease, and study the open and fucked out expression on his face. Then you grin.
“You sure you can handle me Katsuki?” You taunt, a sweet heat curling up your spine when you push your hips back even harder.
Katsuki scowls, the pink blush on his cheeks turning scarlet. “Fuck you. I can handle you just fine.” He jerks his hips upwards to emphasize his point, cock sinking in even further.
Your small, delighted gasp dances in the air, pussy clenching on its own accord. “Pretty sure I’m fucking you. You already look like you’re about to cum. What, a big bad hero like you not gonna be able to make me cum this time?” With a smug smile you lean in close, nails biting into his pecs as you whisper. “I thought you were supposed to be number one at everything, Dynamight.”
Katsuki’s eyebrow twitches, jaw clenching tight as he grinds his teeth to dust.
“You think I can’t make that fuckin’ pussy cum, princess?” He grabs a handful of your ass and squeezes too hard, lip tugging into a sneer. Your pulse thunders from the sharp sting, the heat in your belly rising a few notches. “You’re gonna scream my name. Better yet, I’ll make you cry out for “Dynamight”, but he won’t save you.” A wolfish grin curls the corners of his mouth.
Your lips part in surprise as he shoves you off his lap, soft blankets cushioning your fall. He manhandles you like a rag doll onto your belly, yanking your hips into the air, looming over your back to shove your face into the sheets with hand to the base of your skull.
“Katsuki!” Your cry gets muffled by the sheets, a calloused palm raining down on your ass so harshly you’re certain his handprint will remain as evidence. He laughs meanly, readjusts his hips, and pushes the slick tip of his cock to your pussy.
He clicks his tongue behind his teeth in disapproval. “That’s not the right name, princess.” His voice is strains as he slides back inside you, bottoming out with a harsh smack of his hips against your ass. He plants one hand by your head and tangles his fingers through your hair with the other, yanking your head off the mattress. “Go on, cry out for Dynamight,” he murmurs in your ear, warm breath tickling your skin.
Katsuki draws his hips back, cock slipping out halfway, then snaps them forward to fill you back up.
“Dynamight!” You wail, your next breath becoming a choked off gasp.
His chest rumbles with a moan. “That’s what I was lookin’ for, such a good girl.”
By the end of it, you’re a jelly limbed pile of mush in his bed, voice scratchy from overuse. You’re never going to let him live down the fact that’s it’s so damn easy to get under his skin.
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༝ ᭝ ༝ touya ༝ ᭝ ༝
Pushing your boyfriend to his limit usually results in being burned.
It’s not a secret that Touya is terrible at keeping his cool, hotheaded temper rising to the surface whenever you take it a step too far. But, to you, the ends justify the means. Especially when it comes to sex.
“Hell yes, fuck yourself back on my cock just like that baby. So goddamn hot,” Touya says through his teeth, one scarred hand resting on your tailbone to guide your movement. Your fingers fist the pillow supporting your head, cheeks blistering with heat as you work his cock in and out of your pussy. The hot, slick friction is amazing, but not enough.
You pant softly, frustration welling in your belly. “Yeah? It’d be even hotter if you put in any effort to make me cum,” you bite back. Touya stiffens behind you, fingers gripping your hips with intent to bruise. He yanks you backwards, forcing a yelp out of you when the tip of his cock shoves up against your cervix. You squirm with discomfort, unable to move an inch.
“The fuck did you just say?” There’s a warning in his tone that prickles at the nape of your neck.
You brush it off, continuing to dig your own grave. “You heard me.” You glare at him over your shoulder before turning back. “Seems like you can’t handle me.” You rest your flushed cheek on the cool fabric of your pillow.
For a second, you’re certain you’ve stunned him. Then, the skin on your hips starts to sizzle under his palms. It’s bright and searing, stealing your breath for a moment, and then you’re forced to roll onto your back.
Touya bullies his cock back inside you without another word, hand molding along the bottom of your jaw to keep your mouth shut. The look in his eyes is wild, a cruel grin on his lips when he leans in close until a centimeter is all that separates you. Your heart jumps to your throat, kickstarting a rush of adrenaline.
“I don’t know who the fuck you think you are talking to me like that, sweetheart. But you’re lucky as hell I want to be inside your tight little pussy so badly.” Touya starts to rock his hips. “Otherwise I’d leave you alone and go jerk myself off.”
Your eyes dart across Touya’s face, his blue eyes bright with mania. A sick sense of satisfaction curls in your chest as you manage to keep yourself from smiling. He’s playing right into your hands, just like every other time.
Touya releases your jaw, hooking his hands under the backs of your knees and pushes until they sink into the mattress, folding you like a blanket. The angle makes it feel like his cock’s inside your stomach and you gasp, clutching at scarred wrists.
“Right there Touya, please!” Your back arches with your words, Touya rewarding you with a heavy thrust. He rolls his eyes, but he bends to your whim and picks up his pace. He smirks like he’s the one in control, lids lowering as his gaze stays glued to where he disappears inside you.
“My little whore,” he coos. “You’re not gettin’ any relief until you fuckin’ squirt for me, do you understand?” There’s no room for argument in his voice, and you nod, goosebumps littering your arms.
You’ll taunt him again and again and fucking again, if only to drive him up the wall and provoke him into rearranging your guts.
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lostfracturess · 1 month ago
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traces of yesterday's scars — satoru gojo
they say the strongest sorcerer can't be broken. but as your fingers trace the scar that once split him in two, you find that even satoru gojo has his sensitive spots.
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You still dream about the moment Satoru was cut in half, the memory haunting you even now—that clean, horizontal slice that had split him perfectly in two, tearing your world apart just as surely as it had torn through him.
Sometimes you wake gasping, the image still vivid behind your eyes.
Now, months later, you lay with your head on his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat. Your fingers trace the scar that runs across his abdomen, the raised line a constant reminder of how close you came to losing him.
The skin here feels different, rough and uneven and so unlike his other scars. Because this scar tells a different story—one of how death had almost claimed him, how he had nearly been taken from you for good.
You feel him tense slightly as your fingers brush over it, catching the small sharp intake of breath he tries to hide.
"Still hurts?" you ask softly.
"Not hurt exactly," he says, trying to play it casual despite the way his muscles twitch under your fingertips. "More like... muscle memory. Like my body hasn't forgotten what it felt like to be in two pieces."
You follow the scar's path across his abdomen, perfectly straight like a ruler's edge. The mark extends to both sides, wrapping around to his back—evidence of how completely he was severed. Your throat tightens at the memory.
"Hey," he catches your wrist when he notices your fingers have stilled on his scar, trembling slightly against his skin. "I'm right here. Still in one piece, see?"
He tries for levity, but you can't shake the image of him split open, of those endless seconds when everyone thought—
Before that thought can fully form, Satoru moves with that impossible speed of his. One moment you're lying on his chest, the next you're on your back, pressed into the mattress with him hovering above you.
His white hair falls forward, framing his face as he looks down at you with those striking blue eyes. The scar catches the dim light, a silver line across his torso that makes your throat tight.
"Stop that," he says softly, pinning your hands beside your head. "I can hear you thinking too hard about it."
"You were cut in half, Satoru," you say quietly. "That's not exactly an easy image to forget."
"And yet here I am," he cuts you off, pressing his forehead to yours. One hand releases your wrist to guide your palm to his chest, letting you feel the strong, steady beat of his heart. "Feel that? Still beating. Still whole. Still yours." His voice drops lower. "I could never leave you. Not even being split in half could keep me away."
He kisses you then, soft and bittersweet at first, before deepening into something more intense. His lips move against yours with a tenderness that makes your heart ache, each press and slide a promise sealed into your skin.
He kisses you like he's trying to prove something, like he's pouring all his certainty and love into this one moment until the scar becomes just another story written on his skin, not an ending but proof that he always finds his way back to you.
His hand cradles the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he draws out the kiss until you're both breathless with it.
"Besides," he murmurs against your lips, that familiar boyish glint returning to his eyes, "being cut in half just means there's twice as much of me to love now."
Before you can groan at his terrible joke, he moves again and pulls you flush against him as he rolls, and suddenly you're on top of him, straddling his waist. His hands settle on your hips, thumbs brushing the bare skin where your shirt has ridden up.
"See?" His grin is absolutely insufferable now. "Still strong enough to manhandle you around."
"You're stupid," you say, but you can't help smiling as your hands splay across his chest, feeling his laughter rumble beneath your palms.
"Stupidly in love with you," he counters, pulling you down for another kiss. His hands slide up your back, holding you close as if to prove his point about his strength remaining unchanged.
The scar moves under your touch as he breathes, but now it feels less like a reminder of what you almost lost and more like proof of what you still have—his heart beating steady and strong, his arms around you, his smile pressed against your skin.
"I love you," you say against his lips, "even when you make terrible jokes about being cut in half."
"Especially then," he says, and you can feel his smile widening. His hands grow more bold as they trail down your sides, and you can feel his breath quickening beneath you.
"You know," he murmurs against your lips, "we should probably make sure everything's still working properly—" His fingers slip under the hem of your shirt, skating across your skin. "If you're up for round two?"
In one fluid motion, he sits up, keeping you firmly in his lap as his arms wrap around your waist. His lips find your neck, trailing hot kisses along the sensitive skin there.
"Just to be thorough," you manage to say, though the words come out shakier than intended as his teeth graze over your skin. And he only pulls you closer in return.
"So thorough," he breathes against your neck, one hand sliding up your back while the other grips your hip. "Need to make sure everything's in working order." His voice drops lower, rougher, as his kisses become more heated. "Every—" Kiss. "Single—" Kiss. "Part."
Your fingers thread through his hair as he continues to map every sensitive spot he knows drives you crazy, making you arch against him. His touch erases all thoughts of scars and fears, replacing them with the burning need to be closer.
And when he finally claims you, his movements leave no doubt about how very alive he is—each deep thrust and possessive grip reminding you that he's here, he's whole, he's yours.
The scar may still tell its story of how close you came to losing him, but tonight is about proving just how completely you still have him—all of him, in every way that matters.
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© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.
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wasyago · 2 months ago
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Falls in, i would love to hear about this decked out/failed cave exploration au pls pls pls already i am Bewitched
hehehe [in tango's voice] sighh i suppose...
really im very tempted to just let it sit and not tell anything, because it's so fun seeing people theorize and point out details in the notes. but yeah i guess i shouldn't gatekeep it, its a fun au!
i do want to state in the beginning that it was a one-off thing and i have no plans on continuing it or drawing more for it. if you do tho? feel free! (not asking for fanart by any means, but giving the green light if anyone was wondering)
well
-------
Pet crew were a group of cave explorers. They're no experts by any means but they were no amateurs either! (ignore the fact that they're not wearing any PPE, i didn't want to draw it, ok--) And recently they've been excited about mapping out a new cave system they found, completely unexplored according to their research.
Tango, always a big lover of his plans and spreadsheets, presumably decided to go in alone ahead of time to sketch out at least a rough draft for a map, so they had an idea of what they're going to be dealing with.
But see, this cave is not an ordinary cave, no matter how pristine and untouched it looked. It is one gigantic organism of unknown origin, and a hunrgy one at that, the air inside it is filled with little cells or spores that, when inhaled enough, start taking over the body and corroding it to the cave's will. Killing the host in the process.
So, obviously, after spending some time in the cave by himself, Tango did get some cells in him. Not enough to be noticeable, but enough to give him a headstart on the corruption when the group went in for a proper dive some days later.
The first symptoms of undergoing the change are pretty standard: light fever, weakness, dizziness — easy to mistake for a flu.
Which is exactly what Tango did. Of course, going caving with a flu is not a smart thing to do either, but the group has been planning this trip for so long, delaying it even more because someone was slightly under the weather would've been foolish!
The cave started off with a big drop, requiring a rope to be set up, and then sprawled into a system of tunnels. Tango and Pearl were very excited to find an entrance to some ancient tombs a couple of hours into the dive. There were stairs leading even deeper underground, which turned out to be an entrance to a bigger cave system, with a huge frozen lake in the middle and an entrance to abandoned mines.
Further symptoms include skin turning pale, graying hair, eyes starting to shift color to red. Previous symptoms remain and intensify.
Tango had always been pale, he had blond hair too, and in the dark it was hard to notice the white streaks in them. The pink cheeks were easily passed as a result of being in the cold. Pearl did express some concerns about Tango's well-being when he started to fall back a bit, but he dismissed it as just him getting tired. By that point Pearl seemed to also have some "frost" in her hair.
After the hair have fully turned white, the tips start to switch color to an unnatural blue. Skin eventually loses color completely, turning gray. Fever intensifies as body desperately tries to fight the infection.
At that point it was impossible to deny that something was wrong with Tango. There are no mirrors underground though, so to him it was just his flu getting out of hand. Guilty of hiding his illness, yes, but nothing critical. The blue hair however were not normal, and the other two were freaking out a bit more than Tango would've hoped for.
They had an argument.
Etho snapped and hit Tango to beat some sense into his stupid head.
By that point Pearl was clearly looking bad too, and Etho's own hair were apparently turning white. They were all feeling terrible, physically and mentally. They decided to head home.
As previously stated, the cave is in fact alive and can sense when something that belongs to it is trying to escape. In an effort to stop it, the whole cave system comes to life. Old animal carcasses rise and start walking, small screeching creatures begin patrolling the tombs, the ice melts and the cave blooms in dangerous ways.
When the crew exited the mines into the second level of the cave system, it was apparent that the way back would be a lot harder. By that point Tango was struggling to stand and Etho had to drop his equipment to carry him. But the fever and the dizziness were making it hard to move fast, the changed layout of the cave was difficult to navigate even with their map, and the way to the surface was still very and very long. It was obvious they couldn't make it out....
Unless they were willing to make some sacrifices.
Etho isn't proud of his decision, but leaving Tango was their only option! He and Pearl still had a chance to escape if they moved quickly, but Tango was just too far gone, he couldn't-- Etho couldn't carry him to the exit, he was getting too tired, and if they all stuck together it would get all three of them killed! Was it not better for at least two of them to survive instead of-
They had another argument.
Pearl stubbornly insisted on taking Tango, so Etho had to lie to her and say that they will come back once they scout out the way. Etho couldn't force himself to look at Tango though, if he did he would be met with this knowing look and he just couldn't bear it. Tango cried when they were leaving.
After the body succumbs to the fever it stays dead for a short period of time, while the rest of the changes set in.
It took a miracle for both Etho and Pearl to reach the tombs, but the hard part came after. Etho did everything in his power to convince Pearl to leave with him, he said they will come back later when they're better prepared, he said it was too late to help Tango, he said it was Tango's own fault, he said many bad things, none of which were enough to change Pearl's mind. She turned back and Etho didn't follow her.
He ran through the tombs and the caves alone, losing his eye to a monster he saw all too late. It was painful and it was disorienting, Etho doesn't even remember how he got to the initial drop they went down, he was panicking and only moving forward because of adrenaline and instinct. The ascend was a fever dream, Etho doesn't know how he didn't fall to his death then.
Through the rush of blood in his head, Etho heard the faint sound of Tango's voice. Too cheery for his feverish condition, and much, much closer, a lot closer than the place they left him to die in. He did not hear Pearl. The sound stopped when it was right under him, and he felt a light tug on the rope he was hanging of. And nothing else happened...
Etho emerged from the cave into the cold night, stumbling over his own feet, too tired to run. Their van was parked over by the entrance and Gem was already waiting for him. Him — shaking, bloody and alone.
...
The body reanimates again, now obedient to the cave's will. It is no longer alive but it is not dead either, frozen, stalking through the tunnels in a mindless haze.
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beautifulpaprika · 6 months ago
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A Beast and a Bracelet (m)
pairing: fem!reader x beast!jk
warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, in the forest!
summary: You tried saving someone ... again. However, this group is large and bloodthirsty, and trying to lose them in a forest isn't working. Yet, when you find a cave, it seems to be your saving grace. Not because of what's in it, but who's in it.
word count: 8.7k
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Branch after branch hits me in the face- my hair getting caught in the branches more than once as I run from the group of men after me. 
“Stay out of the business of men, Y/N,” my father always told me. Of course, when I spotted the ready-to-beat-a-man in front of his children, I couldn’t sit back and chug a pint. I had nothing better to do. I didn’t think through the part where there were three of them and one of me. 
The plan was running into the forest where the monster stories came from- stories of missing people and blood trails - in hopes they would be too afraid, but by the footfalls following close behind, I can safely determine they are not as fearful as I am of the forest. 
I have no navigation in the pitch black and wood. My lungs feel ready to give up on me, and the noises I hear on my left sound a lot like something ready to pounce on me. But I keep running. 
“Come on, brave one! You wanna jump in to our business? We can do this right now!” One of the men calls from behind me. I’m astounded they have the air to be able to catch up and yell at the same time. 
I attempt a look behind me, my eyes glancing at a small light catching up. Panic rises in me and boils over, tears welling in my eyes, making finding safety even more difficult. 
There’s a dark mass ahead- a cave surrounded by weeds and vines. Pictures of monsters with sharp teeth and blood dribbling down their chin appear in my mind. 
“Get her!” one man calls out. They’re on my tail and I have to make a decision. 
One foot in front of the other until it’s pitch black in the cave. My footsteps echo off of the cave wall and I almost slip in the mud. The sound of splashing water urges me to turn back. Something is in here, and it’s not a bunny. 
I stick close to the wall, unmoving.
Unfortunately for me, a light shines in the cave. 
“There you are,” the one in front says. They all have a hungry look in their eyes that tells me everything I need to know about their intentions.
My eyes sting from the tears welling. I should’ve listened to my father. I should’ve kept to myself. 
The frontman grabs my arm, but I scream when his touch is gone as soon as it’s there. 
Growling mixing with agonizing screams draws my attention. The light is suddenly gone -it’s pitch black and I hear the nervous panting of the other two men. 
The screaming stops and my breath catches, not wanting the creature to hear me. It’s not a second longer when the screams start up and the crunching of bones and ripping and tearing of skin join it. 
The gurgle from the second man doesn’t stop before the third one follows. The screams and noises last for a few moments longer. When it stops, I close my eyes. I’m preparing for the death that is to come, asking any forces out there to grant a quick death and for my father to never have to find me. 
A huff in front of my face pushes my hair from my face. 
I hate the pathetic whimper I give to the creature. 
Its breathing is heavy and similar to that of a dog. 
“I’m sorry I intruded,” I whine, “I didn’t know where else to go,” I whisper. It feels useless to ask for mercy from a creature that most likely can’t understand me. 
However, it doesn’t seem as impossible as I thought when the huffing retreats from me. The hot air is gone, and I’m out of breath when I hear a splashing again- just like the one I heard when I came in.
I squint my eyes, trying to see rather than hear. 
There’s a new panting sound coupled with coughing and spitting, but it sounds human. Nothing like the creature growling deep while it tore men to pieces. 
Feet slap the wet floor, and I continue to hold my breath, not wanting to make any sudden movements. 
“I know you’re there,” a voice calls. It doesn’t sound menacing or annoyed- more matter-of-fact than anything. Rustling sounds move from my right side to across from me. 
A light appears, causing me to cover my eyes with my arm to adjust to the sudden brightness. 
“A ‘thank you’ would have been nice,” the same voice is right in front of me now. I slowly lower my arm, not wanting to be bombarded by light again. 
My eyes glide up to be met with a man’s curious gaze. The light shows off his raised eyebrows and glistening chest. His dark hair sticks to the sides of his face. He must have been the one who was making all the water sounds. I come back down, looking past his legs to the three bodies behind him. I gasp at their state. Torn limbs, popping eyes, frozen faces of shock. 
“Oh, that,” he grimaces. “That is quite the mess I’ll have to clean,” he mumbles. 
“Who are you?” I look back at him. “Did you do that? How-“
”None of these words sound like appreciation,” he crouches down, his head tilting. “Should I have let them have their way with you?” He asks. I look past him again, a rage boiling inside men from the thought of those torn-up hands being on me instead. I shake my head. 
“I’m grateful,” my voice is low. 
“Good enough for now,” he gets up again, moving back to the space across from me. “You can go,” he announces and I’m caught off guard by it. 
That’s it? 
He sets the light down as I stare in amazement. He’s already heaving one body over his shoulder without a struggle.
I slap myself for gawking at his back muscles and the marred skin as he takes one body and starts to carry it out. 
The half-naked man stops in his tracks and slowly turns to me. 
“You can leave at any time, bunny.” I have to stop myself from flinching at the pet name. 
My mind becomes dizzy at the choices of staying or going. This man is new, a mystery, and I can’t help but be curious. He’s the one who saved me and I’m supposed to walk out as if nothing happened? 
“I’d like to help,” before he can reject my offer, I’m picking up a ripped-off arm and a toe tossed away. Nausea rises in my body up to my throat, but I hold it back before I make even more of a mess. 
I’m ready to follow the man out, but his body is fully turned to me now, the body still on his shoulder. I try avoiding his stare by walking past him, but he blocks me. 
His eyes scan me from top to bottom. I shiver under his wandering eyes. 
“What are you doing?”
”It’s the least I could do for intruding your. . . space,” I refer to the cave. “And it’s obvious you saved me from imminent death . . . And worse,” I gulp, and his eyes follow the movement in my throat. 
I wait for him to say anything or reject my offer, but he doesn’t. He turns, the dead expression of the man on his shoulders flinging towards me. I gag at the wounds down his face. 
“If you’re going to do that the whole way, I suggest you go home instead,” he tells me. 
I shake my head, despite the fact that he can’t see me. 
We trek out into the forest, carrying our bodies (and body parts). The lamp attached to his pants lights the way, but I can’t help looking at the way it drags his pants down his hips a tad. His skin is dry now and I notice the scars down his back more easily. 
“You’ll need to clean up afterward,” he says before throwing the body in an empty spot between some trees. “Going home from this forest will have questions thrown at you enough, but coming back with blood? You won’t survive,” he explains. 
I throw the hand and toe on the spot. 
“You sound like you speak from experience,” it’s as if I have a death wish making such a suggestion, but he laughs it off. Maybe I’m not incorrect. After all, there’s a reason he lives in the cave. 
He doesn’t say another word but turns to return to the cave. 
“How long have you been out here?” I try to break the silence. He gives me a look. “You have a made bed and some supplies in that cave of yours, your hair is-” he gives me another look and I stop talking. The hair must be a sensitive topic.
“It's been a few years. . .” 
The shock in my body slows my walking down. Years? 
“Did you run away from home?” 
“Something like that,” he shrugs. 
I don't ask any more questions for fear of seeming more intrusive than I already am.
“Where is your pond of water?” I ask, trying to fling some of the blood on my fingers. 
He freezes at the question. 
“You have one. I heard it,” I walk further into the darkness, hoping to find the small body of water. 
I notice something glistening and take a step towards it. 
But then my feet lose their balance and my back is against the wall. Air leaves my lungs when the man’s face crowds mine, his hands caging me on both sides. 
“Don’t. Touch. That. Water,” he’s panting and I can only see the left side of his face. The anger and anxiety cinching every feature.
I notice the splotch of blood sitting on his eyebrow and lick my finger to rub it off.
He flinches when my finger touches him, but his eyebrow doesn’t relax. 
“I won’t touch it,” I promise. “I apologize,” I plea that he accepts the apology- my life being at risk and whatnot. 
“You don’t owe me anything. Go home,” he breaks away from me turning to gather the next body. 
“How do I know they won’t come for you? That you’ll be okay?” He freezes on the spot again. “I want to help!” I confess. I don’t want to prove my father right. Not about not being able to defend myself and not about being useless to this world. 
He doesn't say a word but looks back at the body left torn on the ground. It's enough to answer my question. 
“I think I'll be alright,” he says. He makes his way out of the cave and I follow after him. 
“There are more guys then where that came from, I can promise you that! They’ll come looking,” I try. I try to convince him tha t we need each other. My hope is that he says yes and lets me figure out the mystery that he is. 
“I handled three and I’ll handle more,” he grunts as he throws the body into the spot. 
“How do you know people won’t find this?” I gesture to the pile of limbs. 
“It’s still night. The monsters will take care of it. Monsters worse than me,” he says with a  low voice, staring directly at me. The words do as he intended. With a shiver running down my spine, I’m officially afraid. 
“I’ll go home,” I tell him, turning away ready to follow the tracks home. 
“You do that,” he makes his way back to the cave. 
“I‘ll be back tomorrow!” I call. 
“No, you won’t!” He calls back before disappearing into the dark. 
***
I keep my promise to return. This time I bring bread and treats with me, hoping something sweet is enough to tame the beast. I’m not sure what kind of beast he really is, but what does it matter if he doesn’t hurt me?
It’s clear I haven’t learned my lesson last night by getting into “men’s business”. This man is only half man, so it counts. I suppose. 
A leaf crunches behind me, and I swivel to confront whoever’s following me, but Im only met with the sight of a misty forest wind moving through grass and dirt. 
“Y-yeah! You better not fuck with me!” I cringe at my voice wavering on the swear word. 
“You really spooked them away, bunny,” a deep chuckle sounds behind me. 
I swirl to look at the scarred man, a smirk spreading across his face. He approaches me casually, like any man on the street would- except he has no shirt, and his hair is still tousled, and his pants are ripped in different areas. 
“Your anxiety is palpable,” he says, tilting his head at me, while tapping a finger top my chin. 
“I’m not scared of anything,” I lie. 
“I know your idea here is to be brave, but you can’t be brave if you have nothing to fear,” his hand taps the sack hanging in my hand. “What’s this?” he asks. 
I hold the bag to him, the smell of fresh bread and cake wafting around us. 
“For you,” I push it towards him as his eyebrow lifts. “I don’t have any money, but my father and I can bake pretty well,” I shove it towards him again, but he continue s to stare at me. “Yes. It’s a bribe, but I’d like to show you that this team,” I point to him and myself, “can work out pretty well.”
“And why do you want to be a team?” he asks, his arms crossing over his chest, his biceps protruding. I gulp at them, then catch myself looking back at the man. The smirk tells me he noticed me checking him out. 
“I’d like to do more in town, but with the risk of being killed, I can’t do it as much as I’d like. I want your help. For protection,” I propose. I realize the more I talk, the more my body caves in. I quickly adjust to lift my chin and he chuckles at me. 
His eyes narrow, then surprise. I try to process the shock on his face.
“You-” his arms uncross and I wait for his words. 
“What?” I ask. His eyes cut deep into mine and I suddenly feel awkward in my spot. 
He relaxes again, back to his normal composure. “You’ve got a deal,” he announces. Before I can ask him what that was, he’s already turning away and heading in the opposite direction. I try to make out some of the shapes in his back.
I quickly avert my eyes when he looks back at me and start to follow him.
“I brought some other things as well,” I show the bag in my other hand. “Another peace offering, but also . . . basic hygiene,” I shake the bag in excitement. The girls in town never let me braid their hair, but it’s alright. There’s someone who needs my services more anyway. 
He doesn’t say much, only continues to walk and even cleans sticks and rocks from the ground. 
“It’s a bit useless to clean the forest isn’t it?” I ask. 
“It’s meant to be a path, so that you can easily find your way back and forth,” his words catch me off guard. It’s a small gesture, but it’s nice to know he’s keeping me in mind when he does. 
I gawk at him for a few moments longer until the noise of running water breaks me out of the trance. We come up on a small creek dug into the ground. This is no cave. 
“I didn’t see this last night,” I whisper. 
“We didn’t come here last night,” he points out. I give him a questioning look, for him to answer in a shrug, “You said you have a few things for hygiene and a couple of treats - let’s have a picnic, bunny,” I shake my head at the nickname. 
“Why do you call me that?”
“I’m big. You're small. I thought that was obvious,” he raises a branch for me and I pass through. 
“It wasn’t that obvi-”
“Where did you say you came from?” he suddenly asks from behind me. 
“I come from the town just outside of here,” I tell him, turning to face him. He hums in answer. “Have you ever been there? It’s right outside of this forest,” his face scrunches, contemplating. 
“I’m from the cave, that’s it. Now that we’ve gotten introductions out of the way-” he pulls the torn-up pants down his legs and I gasp at the muscles on him. He could crush a man’s head with those thighs. “Let’s get to that wash,” he says, a hint of excitement touching his tone. 
He steps down, slowly, into the water.  
I put a fingertip in the water. I hiss at the cold, but he seems entirely unphased. He seems to enjoy it if anything. 
I admire the way he’s able to bask in the cold water. 
“Alright, what’s next, bunny? Where’s the soap at?” he calls. 
“How do you know about soap?” I had assumed he never joined society. I gather my bag, bringing out soap, sponge, a hairbrush, and a pair of nail clippers. I grab the hairbrush first, waving him over.
“I haven’t always been out here,” he explains, slowly making his way towards me. His back faces me, and despite him being taller than me, I still can’t reach him at a comfortable position. 
“Can you just . . . come a little closer?” I reach again, only able to reach so far without falling into the water. 
He leans backwards, not able to step back without slipping on the tilted creek floor. I reach for his hair, and I’m able to brush it, but the angle is uncomfortable. I try to brush the strands lower, by his neck, but my arms quickly tire. 
“Hold on- Just-” I say, trying to fix my posture. 
His head turns to give me a side-eye, and I watch him roll his eyes. 
“I know something that might help,” he gestures to me to lean over just a bit more. I try my best to have my body hover over the water without falling in. 
The man leans over to grab me underneath my arms - my scream muffled by the water rushing into my mouth. My feet are able to reach the ground and thrust me to the surface. 
My ears fill with the sound of his laughter once they clear out. I turn to him slowly, the cold water causing my eyes to twitch and my body to shiver . . . Or is that the anger? 
“What is wrong with you!” I swear the birds get spooked at my yelling. “I am trying to help.”
“You're trying to butter me up. I already said I would do what you asked, there’s no need to cater to me any more,” his arms reach up to brush his hair back, but his fingers catch easily in the knots. “I brush with my fingers,” he says, proudly. 
Despite my anger, I draw closer to him, his breathing slowing as he looks down at me. 
“While brushing with fingers could work . . .” I start. I grab his arm and pull him to where his back is facing me again. I try not to stare at the obvious scars in different sizes and shapes running down his back. “It’s not going to do all the work. Trust me, the brush will make you feel lighter.” The weight of my clothing drags me down a smidge but I ignore it. I start at the bottom of his long, dark strands. I expect to hear a ‘hiss’ or feel a flinch on some of the knots, but he doesn’t. He actually seems relaxed. His head leans back and a hum occasionally sounds from him. 
I pour more water on his head, following the line down his spine until it meets the water at his waist. I admire hsi figure, dragging a finger down the same path as the water, sometimes detouring to some of the scars. 
I kick myself out of the trance, and when I look back up to focus on the hair again, his head is already slightly turned to look at me. 
“Um, I’m sorry. I got curious,” I admit. 
“About?”
“What your skin would feel like. I don’t think I’ve seen so many scars,” I say. His eyebrows pinch. “I don’t mean that as a bad thing. It’s new. And intriguing. And you should tell me about them,” I add a smile, hoping it’s enough to convince him. 
“You ask for a lot. I’ve saved your life, isn’t that enough from me? If anything I should be asking you for more,” his arms cross. I snort at how pouty it makes him look. 
“Well, I’m brushing your hair aren’t I? You know how many other men’s hair I’ve brushed?” 
He turns in genuine interest. 
“No one. No other man’s hair! And!” I reach for the bag sitting on the edge of the creek, ready to fall in. I dig through the bag, revealing another gift - a bar of lavender soap. “How many people have I given soap to? Zero,” I push it towards him, the bar leaving white residue on my fingers. 
He reluctantly takes it, eyeing it, then me, then it. 
“I’m not sure this is the compliment you-”
“Ungratefulness is not very becoming of you,” I interrupt. 
His eyes peer up at me from under his eyelashes. “I’m still a bit sore, you know, from saving your life,” he says. I nod in understanding. “I’ll need help using this,” he hands me the bar. 
I freeze my hands from playing with the water. I scan his face for any sign of joking, but he continues to hold it to me. 
I take it, and he steps closer immediately, his body towering over mine. My attempt at not appearing nervous doesn’t work. 
“I’ll do it if you can answer one question,” I tell him. He rolls his eyes but agrees. “Why is the water in the cave off-limits but the creek isn’t?” He’s initially annoyed by the question, but I watch him relax.
“It changes me. It’s the reason I was able to become the monster that helped you,” he flinches when I start to lather him in soap. Creek water isn’t the cleanest, but it’s all I have to make the soap softer. “The reason I couldn’t let you go in it is because it’s not something you easily come out of,”he explains. My hand trails over his abdomen and up his sides, he inhales sharply, but recovers quickly. 
“What exactly do you turn into?” 
“Half human, half dog, half beast. There are too many ways to describe it. It doesn’t help that at first you aren’t aware that you’re something else. It takes a couple of tries to not lose your mind. Some have succumbed to the madness, and others take it, go into town, cause chaos, and get themselves killed.” His eyes are distant as he talks. There’s something that tells me he is talking from experience. “It doesn’t help that when I take that form of the beast, it drains my energy. My human energy isn’t meant for a big body with that strength. It’s draining.” 
“Are you the only one now, besides me, who knows about it?” I reach his neck, noticing a big difference in cleanliness. 
He nods in answer. 
“You haven’t lost your mind, though. Why are you different?” he shrugs at my question. 
“I had a good mentor, at first,” his eyes turn down, “I also had a lot of motivation, I guess,” he holds his arms forward for me to wash. 
“What was your motivation?” 
He waits - the crickets nearby and the trees still. 
“You’ve asked much more than one question now. The focus should be on getting this dirt off of me,” he wades over to the edge. “You should get my legs too,” he lifts one onto the wall and I screw my eyes shut, squealing- the sound of his laughter a massage to my brain.
***
The next day it’s raining. I cover myself with the sack that I brought for Jungkook (a name I learned while I was soaping his legs - truly a heartwarming moment.) This time it has a few shirts I stole from my father. 
Jungkook told me I shouldn’t come back again at the risk of someone catching onto the fact that I was going into the forest too often. Judging by the trees surrounding me, I didn’t listen. I’ve checked my surroundings a million times before coming in. 
A noise behind me makes me jump, but I start humming to soothe the nerves. I brought Jungkook a small cupcake with a bunny iced on the top. It’s a bit wet now from the rain, but I’m almost certain he’ll still like it. 
After our day at the creek yesterday, I feel like he knows me better than anyone. The only thing I haven’t figured out is why he decides to stay out here instead of joining the rest of society. Well, when I truly think about it, I guess I can understand why he wouldn’t want to. 
I release a breath when I arrive at the cave, grateful that I didn’t forget where it is. 
“Jungkook?” I call as I walk in. My lantern is able to light up the slick walls. There’s running and shuffling until I approach him. He’s sitting criss-cross on the ground on a sheet, wide-eyed and open mouthed. “Jungkook? What are you doing?” I slowly approach him. 
“Nothing. Sitting here,” he says it too quickly to believe him. 
“What do you have behind you?”
“What’s that in your hand?” he nods to the cupcake I’m holding- the picture of the bunny looks a bit sad now. I don’t miss the way he decided to change the subject, but I can’t be bothered to bring it back up. He’ll have to move eventually. 
“It was a cupcake,” I step closer and sit in front of him, he tenses a bit, “but the rain kind of . . .” I show it to him. He looks at it and I think I see a smile spreading across his face. I have to check twice that it’s not a teasing smile, but what I thought was true. He’s looking at it fondly.
He reaches for it, releasing whatever’s behind him. 
“Thanks, Bunny,” he says. He doesn’t eat it but sets it beside him instead. 
“Are you going to tell me what’s behind you now?” I ask. He’s right back to being tense. His mouth opens and closes, resembling a fish, and before he can say anything else, a voice yells out. We freeze and look out the mouth of the cave. 
“Where the fuck did she go?” a man yells out again. Even with the rain, I can hear him clearly, meaning he’s too close. “Keep going! That bitch definitely had something to do with their disappearance!” he announces. 
They know. They must be friends of those men’s whose bodies we dumped - and they followed me here. 
Shit. How many times do I have to tell myself that I should have listened?
“Jungkook . . .” I whisper, but he’s already standing when I turn. 
“Stay here. I’ll take care of it,” he demands. The gentle Jungkook who accepted my soggy cupcake is gone - replaced with a Jungkook who looks ready to drown someone in the very creek water we swam in. 
“I’ll come with you,” I get ready to stand.
“Y/N . . . I appreciate it, but please don’t. It was always me who was supposed to take care of it. I’d feel a lot better if you stayed here,” with that, he jumps in the water. Meanwhile, I’m still caught up in how he knew my name. Jungkook may have fessed up his own, but I never did the same. 
His beast rushes out of the water and I have no time to take a glance at him. His gray skin is the only thing I spot paired with a panting noise as he runs out. 
Waiting in the cave for a mere three seconds is already torture. The waiting is agony especially when I can’t hear anything and not knowing how many followed me into the forest. 
I occupy myself by looking around the cave, not that there’s much to look at. I spot the thing Jungkook was holding behind his back. It looks like a bracelet but made with flowers and grass. I smile at it. Jungkook hiding his soft side makes the bracelet all the more special. 
A roar yanks my attention away. Yelling and screams rise above the rain from multiple people- more than three. I can’t just sit here. I can’t. 
The rain drops are cool against my skin and I pick up a long stick as I run in the direction of the chaos. 
My confidence in being able to help is not high, but my motivation is. There’s a pained whimper this time from Jungkook. My feet move faster now. It doesn’t matter if they can hear me coming to them as long as I’m able to get there- as long as he isn’t alone. 
A choked sound comes from below me. One of the men Jungkook dealt with reaches out with the one arm he has left. His mouth forms the words “Help me,” but I look away before he can say anything else.
Leaves crunching and sounds of a struggle lead me to a clearing. Bodies are scattered in every part of the clearing, unmoving. There are a few bodies beyond the trees as well. This was much more than the three men Jungkook dealt with in the cave. 
The beast himself sits in the middle. His skin is gray and slimy with hair in very few places. This form is indeed much bigger than the Jungkook I know.
 I quickly approach without saying a word and examine his condition. He’s lying on his side, his breathing shallow. There are a few scratches on his sides and a gash down his face. He’s exhausted and I think back to when he said the beast form is not meant for him to stay in for a long time. His body exhausts easily and if he used a majority of it on fighting these men- 
Damn it. I should’ve asked what happens when that energy is spent. Of all the times I have been nosy in my life and I couldn’t do it in such a crucial moment. 
Jungkook’s beast eye peers up at me and huffs. I ignore the scolding and focus on how I’m going to help him. The pond is too big to be brought to him, so I’m going to have to bring him to it. I don’t let the thought of “How?” linger in my mind too long before I’m picking up his legs and dragging him with as much force as I can bear. 
His groan is quiet behind me. 
“Don’t speak! Don’t do anything!” I yell. I avoid one or two bodies. I haven’t made it far and my arms and back are aching. 
“Use your legs, or you’ll do some damage to your back,” Father’s words echo in my mind. He’s told me so many wise things and yet I can never listen. It’s how I’m in this predicament in the first place. It’s the reason Jungkook is dying. 
My throat closes as tears well up in my eyes. 
“I’m not letting you die.” 
***
Jungkook is practically on the brink of death when I dump him in the pool of water. The lantern lights the red stringing through the water and I cross my fingers that he doesn’t drown. 
“Please, please, please,” I whisper, screwing my eyes shut, a tear falling as a result. “You’re my only friend, Jungkook. . .” I whisper. “Don’t leave.” 
As soon as the words escape me, a head surfaces above the water. I’m on my knees in an instance reaching for him. He’s still very heavy when I pull him in, but nothing compared to when he was the beast. 
“You’re okay!” I wrap my arm around his neck and pull him in. He hugs me back for only a second before I feel his body limp and fall. “Jungkook? Jungkook!” I call for him, but his breathing is weak. I pull him to where his sheet is, laying him gently. His eyes close and he enters sleep. I notice a bit of blood dripping down his face and sides from the battle.
I make sure his breathing is okay then leave him to rush back into town on a mission to take anything that could save him.
***
It’s the second day since Jungkook was attacked and it’s raining again. He’s woken up a few times for water, but nothing else. The bandages on his waist glare at me as I sit on the opposite side of the cave, humming a song, playing with the bracelet he has yet to finish. 
“I can’t believe you don’t remember,” his voice pipes up. I rush to him, a cup of water in hand from the creek. “I’d thought at least by now-” I put a finger to his lips- the rasp of his voice anxiety inducing. 
“You need to save your energy. We can talk when you’re back to being normal,” I tip the cup into his mouth, and he takes it. When I’m done, he sits up despite my protests. 
“I thought you liked the fact I wasn’t normal,” he whispers, his eyes off in the distance. I ignore the words seeing as that’s not my priority. “And I’m not talking about now. I’m talking about back then,” he meets my eyes now, then glides down to the bracelet I’m wearing. I’m ready to question what he means when I look at the bracelet. 
It’s like a key now. A key to a memory I put away a long time ago. 
***
11 years ago
“Keep crying. ‘S not like there’s anyone who’s gonna help you,” the blonde kid, nicknamed Jester, hits the boy again and I flinch behind the wall. “Where’s your parents?” Kicks him again and gestures for his friend to join in - and he does. 
I can’t watch this anymore. 
“Stop fucking with me-” before Jester can kick him again, I jump in, putting my body in front of the one who’s on the ground. 
“What is wrong with you two!” I yell out. 
“Mind your business, Y/N!” he tries to push me but I won’t budge. Finally, my height does something other than be the butt of every joke in town. Father always said I was an early bloomer and that my height could be an advantage. I didn’t see that until now. 
“Fuck you!” I spit at him, surprised at my own cursing. If he was angry before, he’s enraged now. His fist reels back, and I see it coming, but the boy behind me rushes him, tackling Jester. His friend looks to me. Before he can make any moves, I rush up to him and swing my leg up to his middle, hitting my target right between the legs. 
“Run!” I yell. With one down we should be okay. 
The boy gets off of the blonde and runs to me, taking my hand and leading me into the forest. I don't know where he's taking me, but if I saved him that means he won't hurt me, right?
We slow to a cave entrance. He turns to me, but doesn’t say anything. 
“Are you okay?” I ask him, noticing the cut under his eye. He nods, still not saying a word. “Those boys are assholes,” I cover my mouth at the bad word. “Sorry, but it’s true,” he laughs at me. I can’t believe he’s laughing at me after I saved his life. Then, I find myself laughing with him and it’s strange. 
He gestures for me to follow him deeper in the forest. 
We find a spot where he finally kneels on the ground and I follow.
“Do they usually pick on you?” I ask. He nods slowly and moves his sleeve to show scars and fresh cuts on his shoulder. I make the note in my mind that next time I’ll bring something to help heal those. 
His hands work and kneed in the grass and  grabs a few flowers that are scattered in different places. I see a bug on the trunk of the tree, my eyes trailing up the tree trunk that it travels. Where is it going to go?
A tap on my shoulder takes my attention away. I look down at the boy holding a small bracelet in his hands. He holds it to me, and I take it, trying not to break it. The little flowers spread throughout it tickle my hand. 
“For me?” I ask and he nods his head. 
“It’s to say ‘Thank You’,”  my heart is surprised when I finally hear his voice. 
“Hey. You wanna be my friend? I don’t have any,” I say.
His head moves so fast up and down. Finally! I found someone who likes me!
***
“You. . .” I whisper to him, his heavy eyelids covering his eyes staring back at me. 
“Me,” he looks at the bracelet sitting in the palm of his hand. I’m grateful he’s distracted while I process the new revelations. 
I push up from the ground and head for the exit, quickly stepping out into the rain.
“Y/N? Y/N!” he calls from behind me. I ignore him and try to keep my tears at bay. “Stop!” he yells. I hate that I do as he says, as if I’m his dog. He steps in front of me, and I turn away. “What’s wrong? Did I say something?” He tries to make eye contact with me and when I refuse, he uses a finger on my chin, the touch heating my face. 
“You can try to remind me of the good memories, Jungkook, but don’t forget those good times lasted for a week and you left,” I try to tame the way my voice is breaking. “You were my first friend and then you disappeared. I thought I was cursed for months!” a tear rolls down my cheek. He blinks. Once. Twice. “I get it. That was a long time ago and maybe it didn’t matter to you, but it does to me,” he shakes his head.
“Of course it matters, Y/N. You were my only friend and-”
“Then why did you leave me? Why didn’t you say anything? I risked so much going into the woods to find you.” Scenes of 10 year-old me play out in my head - screaming for Jungkook to come back until my throat itched, poisoning and rashes running down my legs. 
“It was going to be my first time in the pool,” his voice is low, “I wasn’t ready, but my mother was dying. Your very precious town was sending search parties to hunt us down. She couldn’t protect herself or me anymore, so I had to do it. I didn’t want to scare you,” his hand lowers back to his side and he takes a deep breath. “I was going through weeks of training myself and when my mom died and I got a hold of it, I went to try and find you, but I wasn’t finding you and it was too risky,” he explains. 
My heart cracks at the mention of his mother. I know what it’s like to lose a parent, but he only had her.  
“You should have told me. . .” 
“I wanted to. Trust me, Y/N. I did. But I wanted to figure out everything first before I jumped into it with you. I was also a kid at the time too. I didn’t have someone to guide me. Everyone hated me without being a beast. Could you imagine my fear of what would happen if they found out I am one? Especially with all the rumors and stories going around?” he argues. It’s a solid explanation. This was a long time ago and we were children. “When I saw you again and recognized that it was you, something I wanted more than anything, is for you not to be afraid of me. Your opinion, after a week, was the most important to me.”
Tears start to well up again. 
“Just like your opinion is most important to me now,” he whispers, stepping closer. I swallow the lump in my throat. His hair sticks to the sides of his head, some strands covering his eyes that are looking down at me. Goosebumps spread up and down my arms as heat bubbles in my stomach. 
“If you’re lying-”
“Don’t even think that,” he takes another step closer. I gasp when his hand wraps around my waist and pulls me to him, our chests touching and my hands resting on his arms. My thoughts are a jumbled mess and all I can ask is how this escalated so quickly. “Don’t go this time. I know I always tell you to leave, but I’m telling you to stay now.” 
My eyes blink and I’d like to blame it on the raindrops falling into my eyes, but I’m afraid to admit it’s because of how flustered I am at the stare he’s giving me. 
“And where do you get off on telling me what to do?”
“Can I be honest?”
“I’d like it if you were.”
“I think you like it when I tell you what to do.” It’s not the words I was expecting, but I don’t dislike it either. It’s also not false. “Do you want me, Y/N?” he whispers on my lips. “Tell me.” 
“Yes,” I say it a bit too quickly. 
Just when I think he’s going to plant his lips on mine, he instead asks, “Why?” The question is not hard to answer, but it is one that is difficult to say. 
“You’re the only person who makes me feel wanted in return,” I tell him. It’s honest and a much better answer than ‘You’re really hot’. “I don’t want to lose you, Jungkook,” I admit. “So, if you’re going to leave again you might as well-” 
His soft lips interrupt me - finally! 
A list of things I could be doing right now scrolls through my mind, yet none of them seem as important or as enticing as this is. If I could describe what this kiss is like, I don’t think that I could. No one has kissed me like this in the past. Nothing in the world can compare to the way that he holds me tightly against him, massaging the skin on my waist, while our mouths move in sync and rainwater mixes in with our saliva. 
His hands place pressure on hips and I respond by moving backward until I hit a tree. Now that I have back support, his lips push into me harder and I whimper into his mouth. He responds with a moan that runs straight to my core. 
We separate, breathing into each other. 
“It’s raining,” I say, my clothing completely stuck to me by now. 
“It’s not gonna stop me, but tell me if it’s going to stop you,” he brushes a hair away from my face and that’s when I can’t wait anymore. I want him too much to stop now, so I shake my head in answer. 
“I don’t want anything else to stop us,” I hook my fingers into his loose pants and bring him closer. The corner of his lips tilt up and his fingers crawl on the side of my neck before pulling me closer to him. 
The only thing I can pray for is that there are no more men who have decided to take on Jungkook and are still lurking in the forest, but that seems to be the last thing on his mind when he grinds into me. I moan into his mouth and he swallows it before leaning down to kiss my neck. I arch into him as he gets lower at the same time tickling the skin under my shirt as he lifts it up and over my head.
The rain is cold on me, but it’s worth it when his eyes stay on my perky nipples. 
“I-” he gulps. Not so mouthy now. 
“You can touch me, if you want,” I hate the way I sound so eager. I thought I would be able to play it cool, similar to the time I first lost my virginity (with a complete douchebag), but Jungkook makes me too nervous to ‘play it cool’. The way his eyes darken when he scans every inch of me, and the way he looks ready to devour me does the opposite of calming me down. 
I can only pray to any force out there that I make him feel the way he makes me feel. 
“I’ll do more than touch,” the palm of his hand skims the side of my breast, and he leans in. “I’ll do anything to show you you’re mine,” he whispers into my ear. The adrenaline is almost too much - I’m aching for him. 
“Then show me what it’s like to be yours,” I whisper back. 
He doesn’t look at me, his eyes stay on my lips for a few moments, then he moves down, taking one tit into his mouth leaving me breathless. His fingers tweak the other one, occasionally switching. 
“Jungkook- ah!” I gasp. He presses and gropes, then instant repeats. His skin is touching mine in every spot while his tongue continues its ministrations on my chest. I grab onto his hair in case I faint and lean my head onto the tree. The worry of getting bugs on me disappears when he nibbles on my skin. 
“I can’t wait much longer,” he sighs when coming back up. His fingers slide into my pants, and push into the space between my legs. I don’t expect it and cry into his mouth. “I don’t want to rush, bunny, but I can tell you’re as desperate as I am.”
I want to argue that I’m not, but it would be a lie. And it’s hard to argue with his fingers pumping in and out of me. He starts to kiss on my neck while his thumb joins in rubbing my clit. I feel a tension building in my stomach, then the knot unties and I release onto his hand. 
I’m still on my high when his fingers slip out and he licks them clean. I watch him and I’m prepared to do anything for this man. He already looks fucked out and I haven’t done anything to him. His hair is a mess but it’s a result of the rain mixed with my fingers moving it every which way. 
“Now I know you’re ready,” he pants. His pants fall to the ground, revealing the hard-on standing up. It isn’t fair that even his cock is perfect too. 
His eyes fall to my pants. 
“Can I. . . ?” he asks. I nod, slow. 
His hands are gentle as he peels my pants down my legs. I’m suddenly self-conscious when they come down, afraid of him spotting any hair or any marks but if he notices them, he doesn’t bring them up. 
“I’ve been thinking about this the past few days. How I’ll make you mine, how I’ll make you scream for me, how I’ll take care of you every day after. . .” He rambles before putting his lips on me again, the kiss frantic and wild, our tongues mixing all while pulling me closer, his hands move to my bare ass. “Jump,” he whispers, and I follow his instruction. 
My back hits the tree and our centers touch, bare skin to bare skin. It’s almost overwhelming. I feel as if I’m going to fall, but he makes it look so easy holding me. My heart grows ten times. 
“Why are you looking at me like that?” He draws me out of my head with a curious glance. I shrug, not really knowing how to explain it, but he still doesn’t move, waiting. “Are you regretting this?”
I hit him on the shoulder. “How could you say that when I’m still here and fully naked mind you!” 
“Then what was that look?” 
“I just . . .” I pause. It’s nerve-wracking to be vulnerable in front of him. I’m already naked physically, but to be emotionally naked is different. “I keep thinking about how perfect you are.” There’s a surprise written all over his face. “Don’t think for a second I would regret this, even if we are in the middle of a downpour,” I instruct. 
A small smile appears on his face. 
“You’re perfect for me,” he plants a kiss on my lips before he turns his attention down to adjust himself. He slides into me slowly and a whimper leaves my throat. His hand soothes me, massaging the skin on my butt. 
His head falls onto my shoulder, and we stay like that for a few moments as he inches in. 
When he starts to move, I already feel the tree scratching my bare back, but I don’t mind the pain with pleasure. 
Every part of the front of me slides against him and the rest of my body feels sticky from the humidity. It’s messy, but I can’t imagine this any other way. 
His breathing grows heavy as he thrusts into me. His jaw is clenched as he lifts me up and down. 
“You’re beautiful. I wish you could see what I’m seeing,” he breathes. “Y/N, oh God, Y/N,” he groans. His words set off a spark in me bigger than before. It’s good to know that even when I’m naked, sticky, messy, he can still see me as beautiful. “I should’ve kept those guys alive and let them watch,” his tone is different now. “I should have let them watch what they couldn’t have.” 
“Jungkook, pelase -” 
He balances me on one arm, using the other to hold the side of my head while he kisses me. 
“I’m almost- oh gosh,” I cry, but before I can jump over the edge he slides out of me. “Jungkook? What are you-?”
I hold onto him when he moves and puts me onto the wet dirt. It’s cold and slushy at first, then warms up at the same time Jungkook hovers over me. 
“This is how I always dreamt about you with me,” he says, and slides into me again, my heels locking around his waist and on his back. His body weight rests on me as he moves again and his head falls into my neck. 
It doesn’t take long to get me right back to the edge, and from the way his thrusts are getting messier, he’s going to meet me there. 
“Jungkook!” I cry as I spill onto him and he does the same. 
I notice it’s not raining anymore when all the noise and movement stops.We lay there for a few moments in the quiet after he slides out of me, however, his weight is still resting on me. 
“Is your penis gone when you turn into a beast?” I ask, killing the silence. He laughs into my shoulder then lifts his head. 
“Why? Do you wanna fuck him too?” he suggests. I smack his shoulder. “Thank you, by the way. I know dragging a beast the same weight of a tree was not the easiest. You didn’t have to.”
“Of course I had to,” I argue. “You’ve saved me more than once now. The least I could do was try one time.”
“You helped me twice, actually,” he says. I’m back to when we were kids. 
“And there might be many more times after this,” I put a hand on his cheek. 
“And I’ll save you each,” he plants a kiss on my lips, “and every,” another kiss, “time,” a more passionate one. We stay naked on that floor for hours, looking up into the trees, wondering what life or death situation we’ll have to save each other from tomorrow. 
1K notes · View notes
onlymingyus · 7 months ago
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give it to me
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pairing;  jeon wonwoo x f!reader
genre; smut (minor dni), angst, toxic, fluff
summary; From the outside looking in your life is perfect. It's the perfect ones who are the most fucked up and have the most to lose, or so you thought.
dark/content warnings; murder, kidnapping, talk of abuse, talk of solicitation, illusion to sexual abuse, wonwoo is not a nice guy for a large part of this fic -- hitman!wonwoo, kidnapper!wonwoo, ransom negotiations, corrupt business world, seedy gang/mob underworld, crying (pain and mental pain), depression, fucked up family dynamics, yn has parents/parent death mentioned, police, dead bodies, blood, guns, lying, eating/drinking -- i am sure there is more, this fic can be a lot. please consider the warnings before you read. 
smut warnings; unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, oral (m receiving), begging, crying (pleasure), olfactophilia/mysophilia (panty sniffing), grinding, petnames
w/c; 22k and some change (980~ bonus on patreon only) 
a/n; thank you to my @junkissed for proofreading this for me! i know i am on a dark fic kick. thank you all for going along on this ride with me -- perhaps you might catch some easter eggs 🤫 -- i really hope you enjoy this one.
before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here
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“Stop pouting.” 
You throw a contemptuous glare towards Wonwoo from the rearview mirror as he sits in the passenger's seat. He was a handsome man with strong features that made you both nervous and furious. He had been assigned to your personal security by your father in the past week after some changes and discoveries with your previous bodyguard had come to light. 
While you didn’t care who watched over you, it was important to your father, who was by his daughter’s side. You had no assumptions that it was because he loved you; no, it was more that you were the heiress of his multimillionaire dollar stock trading company and his only living child. 
“I don’t want to go.” 
Shaking his head, Wonwoo glances down at his phone to see a text message from your father, only to let out a sigh. He knew you didn’t want to go; you had been telling him that all day. You were a brat. You were every bit the part of Mr. Y/L/N’s daughter and he could tell that you lived a very charmed life. Rarely were you told no, and the times you were, you threw a fit. 
“It doesn’t matter if you don’t. Today isn’t about you, Y/N. It’s about your father, but you are well aware of that. We’ve talked about it enough times today. Stop pretending that you don’t like attention.” 
Rolling your eyes, you lean your head back as Wonwoo talks down to you. You hated him. He was worse than any other bodyguard that your father had put in his place. He was strict and he degraded you. Your last bodyguard was a sweet man who would let you sneak out and get laid, but Wonwoo was an asshole who triple locked your door. 
“Fuck you. You don’t know me. Stop acting like you do. God, I can’t wait for you to get fired.” 
Smirking, Wonwoo glances at you in the rear view mirror, letting his eyes move over your pretty features as the car comes to a stop outside of the venue. The flashes of cameras already make him feel anxious, but he has started to get used to it. They weren’t looking at him, they were looking at you. 
“That’s sweet, Princess. I don’t want you to like me. They want you to like them.” Wonwoo gestures his head towards the window, drawing your eyes to where people are falling over one another to try to catch a glimpse of you. “Your fans and daddy are waiting.” 
Reaching for your door, you pull on the handle, instantly feeling frustration take hold of you when it doesn’t budge. Glancing back at you, Wonwoo grins before opening his door and moving to yours. Opening it from the outside with ease, the man looks down at you with a smug expression.
You hear your name yelled by several people and lights flash in your eyes before Wonwoo steps in front of the photographers, allowing you to step out of the vehicle. At least he was good for something. Meeting his eyes, you narrow yours for a moment before putting on a pretty, fake smile, letting him know he could move and allow your picture to be taken. 
Wonwoo stays on your left, his eyes watchful as he moves them from you to the crowd and back. He was good at what he did. He could feel the weight of his gun on his side, but he knew he wouldn’t need it, not even if someone did try something. His hands were more than enough to take care of them, but his gaze was deterrent enough. There was something dangerous, almost feral, about Wonwoo’s eyes that told anyone and everyone not to fuck with him, including you. 
Hearing your name, your father sighs and looks towards the double doors. Appearances were everything for him and you looked like you were worth every single penny he had spent on you. While you left much to be desired on the business front, at least he could count on you to look stunning on the front page of a magazine along with his last name. You could make his company's stocks climb by 3% with a smile on a good day, and today was a great day or at least your father wanted it to be. 
“Mm, Y/N, darling.” 
You keep your fake smile on your face, letting your father’s lips brush the corner of your lips before he takes your arm into his. His grip is a little too tight for your comfort, but at events like this, it always is. You hated business dinners. You despised talking to the business partners and their “handsome” heirs. None of them were attractive, no matter how many times your father told you to tell them they were. 
“I want you to meet two of my oldest friends, Hyong Songmin and Hong Jinyoung.”
Clenching your jaw, you glance at your father, knowing where this is going, before he squeezes your forearm to the point of pain and your eyes move to the two older businessmen. 
“Hello, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” 
Wonwoo rolls his eyes watching you put on a face for the old men. He could tell you didn’t want to be there anymore than he did. Glancing at his watch, he sighs under his breath and purses his lips, listening to the conversations around him while keeping up the appearance of guarding you and your father. 
Reaching out to take your hand from your father, Hyong Songmin is just a bit faster than Hong Jinyoung. Your brow lifts out of curiosity at the two men and their obvious competitive nature before you laugh a bit awkwardly, feeling the older man’s lips brush against the back of your knuckles. 
“No, dear… the pleasure is mine. I wish my son Kihyun was here today, but at least I’m not the only one with a missing son.” 
Rolling his eyes, Jinyoung looks you over, almost appraising you, before he meets your father’s eyes and tilts his head like he’s considering a deal. 
“He’s not wrong. Joshua was, I quote, “just too busy with numbers” to attend today. I’m certain he would be ashamed to have missed the opportunity to meet you, Miss Y/L/N.” 
You had met Hyong Kihyun before and you had heard some rumblings about Joshua Hong, but you knew what this was really about. This was about your father, his company, and mergers. 
“What a shame... perhaps we can set up another time for my beautiful daughter to meet with either of your dashing sons in the near future. Dinner?” 
Gritting your teeth, you look in your father’s direction, meeting his eyes, only to feel his hand wrap back around your arm. 
“I’m so busy, Father. I’m sure that both of their sons are as well, no matter how large the dowry is.” 
Your father scoffs into a laugh upon hearing the two men laugh at your "joke.” Luckily for him, they had found it amusing, but he had not. Digging his fingers into your arm, your father’s eyes burn holes into your face before he looks towards Wonwoo, clearing his throat to get his attention. 
“My apologies, gentleman. My daughter has her mother’s tongue. Mr. Kim?” 
Lifting his brows, Wonwoo smirks at the name before he meets your father’s eyes, taking your arm when offered to him as your breath quickens. You watch as he leans closer to the bodyguard, whispering something into his ear, only for the man to meet your eyes and nod. 
“Now, where were we? Ah yes, planning dinners for our children. Mine needs a meal and a good night's rest today, but seeing as how your sons aren’t here…” 
You feel Wonwoo guide you towards the back of the banquet hall as your father turns his eyes away from you, distracting his guests. He was good at that, diverting attention from people and things he was ashamed of. That was the reason your mother wasn’t around anymore and no one ever asked why. That was why you were always leaving early if you spoke out of turn, like you did tonight. 
Tugging at Wonwoo’s grip, you feel his hand tighten around your wrist, but he never holds you to the degree that your father does. It never hurts, he always knows when to stop and that you will follow him anyway. 
“Leave it alone, Y/N. You didn’t want to be there anyway.” 
Learning against the wall, you sigh as Wonwoo looks out into the alleyway, waiting for the car to come into view. Glancing back at you, he lifts his brows, almost feeling sympathy for you, but what was there to feel sorry for? You weren’t the type of person that Wonwoo felt anything for. 
Pulling at your elbow, Wonwoo kicks the door to the noisy venue, leaning down to glance in the vehicle and nod at the driver. You hear him mutter a few words before you are ushered into the back, like always. You were used to this song and dance. Anytime you would embarrass your father, it didn’t matter who your bodyguard was, you were always sent back to your apartment and called later with a firm reminder of who you were and who you belonged to. 
So when the car turns in the opposite direction of your apartment, you furrow your brows and look towards the front seat, seeing the wide eyes of your driver. You didn’t know the man’s name; it had never seemed important until this moment. Today he looked scared and you weren’t sure why until he muttered something towards your bodyguard and his voice got louder, feeling the barrel of the gun against his side. 
“I don’t—okay!” 
Tears instantly threaten to well up in your eyes at the sight in front of you. Has your driver done something wrong? Was he a bad man? Has Wonwoo noticed something you hadn’t? Swallowing hard, you reach for your cellphone to do something, anything, when you hear Wonwoo’s tongue click in disapproval. 
“Give it to me. Now, Y/N. I won’t fucking ask again.” 
Meeting Wonwoo’s eyes, you see that dangerous look making your brows furrow. Seeing his outstretched hand, you whine and shake your head, realizing the situation was the opposite of what you had quickly deduced. Your driver had done nothing wrong. Wonwoo was doing this. You barely knew Wonwoo. He had been assigned to you for less than a week. 
“Wonwoo…” 
“Now!” 
The tears spill on your cheeks when Wonwoo yells at you. You put your cellphone into his hand and sit back in your seat before glancing towards both doors. Your mind goes back to when you arrived at the venue and how Wonwoo had to open your door from the outside. 
“Pull into this parking garage. Fuckin—why are you two making me repeat myself? Just do it!” 
You close your eyes, hearing your driver’s head hit the side of his door when Wonwoo forces the man’s head hard against it. The man lets out a painful sound, along with affirming words, as you feel the car take a sudden left and any light from outside is taken by the oppressive walls of the concrete parking garage. 
The moment the car is in park, you look around for a way to get out, but the sound of Wonwoo’s gun going off pulls your attention back towards him quickly. Meeting his eyes, your hands over your ears, you watch him speak, but you just shake your head until he grits his teeth and forces your hand from your head. 
“Fucking listen to me, Y/N. Be a good girl and I won’t have to hurt you.” 
Your eyes shift to the body of your driver slumped over the steering wheel and the panic rushes back through you, causing Wonwoo to jerk your arm once again. 
“You are worth more to everyone without a bullet in you, but that doesn’t mean I won’t. Do you understand me?” 
Pleading words fall from your lips just above a whisper as Wonwoo lets go of your wrist, leaning over the man in the driver’s seat. You hadn’t noticed the gloves that Wonwoo always had on until now. It took your brain being shocked into reality for things to sink in. Your door is locked from the outside. The gloves on Wonwoo’s hands. Was that his real name? Kim Wonwoo? 
Pushing the body with his knee, Wonwoo grunts and watches the body fall with a thud next to the car. It wasn’t ideal, but it would work. The parking garage was in a secluded part of town and it would take at least a few hours, if not a day for someone to stumble upon it. 
Looking into the rearview mirror, Wonwoo lifts his eyebrows at you as you tremble visibly. He knew you were scared. That was something you were feeling for once, and that made sense. All the times over the past week that he has seen you be unreasonably annoyed over simple shit made this even easier. 
“Let’s go for a drive, Princess.” 
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Rubbing at the mascara drying on your fingers, you feel the car come to a stop. Wonwoo sighs, his brows furrowing as he looks around at the empty parking garage and finally back at you. You hadn’t spoken since he had started driving, but he wasn’t complaining. He could hear you crying, your pathetic little whimpering as he drove, but that had been the most of it. You had been resigned to what was happening. You had been “a good girl,” and Wonwoo could give you a bit of credit for that. 
“Home sweet home, Y/N.” 
Looking up, you furrow your brows at the sight around you. This parking garage had clearly not been used in years, probably closer to a decade. The building itself is probably in similar, if not worse, condition. There was nothing about this that you wanted to call home, but as Wonwoo opened his door and moved to yours, opening it, the gun pointed in your direction, and you knew you didn’t really have much of a say. 
“Wh–why are you doing this? Did my father not pay you enough?” 
Scoffing, Wonwoo sighs, leaning back against the door as he waits impatiently for you to gather the train of your tight dress and slide towards him. 
“I thought you were supposed to be smart. Isn’t that what all those degrees on your office wall are for?” 
Your stomach twists at Wonwoo’s words as your high heels unsteadily meet the uneven concrete of the garage. Reaching out with his free hand, Wonwoo tugs you upward and keeps your body against his, letting the barrel of his gun rest against your abdomen as he walks with you. 
“This is ridiculous, Wonwoo. You’re throwing your life away, and for what? A paycheck—” 
Scoffing at your words, Wonwoo cuts you off with a look as he kicks open a heavy door to the stairwell. Obviously, the elevator wouldn’t work in a building like this. You whine at the idea of the stairs in your heels, your eyes searching Wonwoo’s as he shakes his head and digs the gun into your side. 
“You’re the one who’s ridiculous. You look ridiculous and you are acting pathetic. Walk!” Raising his voice, Wonwoo feels your body jerk in his arms before you do as he says and move forward up the stairs. “This isn’t about some stupid ass security job. This is about your daddy, and him paying for you. I was hired to take you, Princess.” 
You feel your knees buckle. Wonwoo’s fingers dig into your arm, lifting you back up as he rolls his eyes at your reaction. He figures you are playing the role of the grief stricken daughter, but in reality, you are fighting the urge between laughing and crying. Your father? Paying for you? Who was stupid enough to think that he would? 
Using his shoulder, Wonwoo pushes open the door to one of the many rooms before letting you stumble inside in front of him. You look around, your brows furrowing in confusion and you feel some disgust at the sight in front of you. You weren’t sure what you had expected. The rest of the building hadn’t given you the impression that any of the apartments would be in good condition, so seeing it firsthand shouldn’t be surprising. 
“Welcome home.” 
You give Wonwoo a look of contempt, making him laugh as he gestures towards a dusty couch with his gun. You didn’t want to sit on the couch. The first thought in your head was that the dress you were wearing cost thousands of dollars and that cleaning it would cost hundreds, but the look in Wonwoo’s eyes made you take a step in its direction. 
“He won’t pay you any money for me. If—listen, Wonwoo... if you let me go, I can pay you the money myself.” 
Sighing, Wonwoo lifts his free hand to his brows, rubbing hard as he watches you. He could see you hesitating to sit down. The way you were brushing at the couch with your fingers only to rub them together as if you were in pain. When you finally sit down, you look stiff and struggle to not let any of your skin touch the dusty material under you. 
“Doubt this is about what you can offer, sweetheart. Get comfortable, you are going to be here for a while. So stop acting like you are going to get the plague from some dust.” 
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Wrinkling your nose to the smell of rot, you force your eyes open. You hope that everything that has happened has been a bad dream. Instead, you open them to find things were worse than you remembered. Whining, you push against the leather couch, searching for a way out, only to find Wonwoo leaning against the door, his eyes on you. 
“How was your nap?”
It was interesting to see you like this, out of your element. Wonwoo had grown accustomed to seeing you prim and proper. Your outfits are always in perfect condition—not a hair out of place. Now you are starting to show signs of wear. You had grime on your cheek from falling asleep on the couch, which you hated so much. At least he had been nice enough to let you sleep somewhere soft. 
Rubbing at your cheek, you turn your eyes away from Wonwoo as you shake your head. You were stiff and uncomfortable. You had only fallen asleep out of exhaustion, not because you wanted to or because you were comfortable. The last thing you wanted to do was fall asleep around him. 
“I want to go home.” 
Nodding, Wonwoo runs his fingers along his palm. He knew what you wanted. You had told him many times before finally passing out for a few hours. He had slept off and on, but he was used to living like this. He was a light sleeper and with one movement from you, Wonwoo knew he would be on his feet, ready to put you back where you belonged. 
“And you know the answer to that. So stop fucking telling me. Tell me something different.” 
Biting at your lips, you blink back your tears, glancing over at Wonwoo again. He was so cruel. You try to imagine a world before today when you actually found him attractive and enjoyed pushing his buttons. The idea of it was terrifying now. You had no idea who you had been teasing. You had enjoyed pushing your bodyguards to their limits until you met Wonwoo. 
“You are such an asshole.” 
Wonwoo smirks, his thumbnail tracing the longest line in his palm as he looks over your face, even from a distance. Even with all that grime on your face, you were still beautiful. It was a pity that you were such a bratty bitch. 
“Thanks, I try. You’ve made it easy with your stunning personality.” 
Scoffing, you rub your arms, the chill in the air causing chill bumps to spread along your skin. Wonwoo watches you shiver, his brows furrowing, before he rolls his eyes and moves to his feet with a loud sigh. You watch as he moves to a duffle bag you hadn’t noticed before. Rummaging through it, he tosses a protein bar on your lap, followed by a bottle of water. 
“Eat, we are gonna be here awhile.” 
Your stomach growls at the idea of food. It had been hours since you had eaten anything substantial. Anytime before you would attend an event, you had a habit of skipping a meal in an attempt to make your dress fit better. Now you were mentally cursing yourself for the tradition. 
“I’m fine.” 
Shrugging, Wonwoo takes out his own bottle of water, tossing the cap down on the floor before tipping the bottle back on his lips. His eyes never leave your face as he swallows the water in large gulps until, finally, the last of the water is gone. 
“Suit yourself. I’m not going to force you to eat or drink, Y/N. But trust me, starving yourself won’t make you a martyr. No one cares that much.” 
Wonwoo’s words bite at your self esteem. You look down, your stomach turning as tears run down your cheeks. You knew he was right. Your father probably hadn’t realized you were gone yet, not if the person who had wanted you kidnapped hadn’t sent him a ransom note. Even if they had, your father would keep it quiet until he couldn’t. 
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The dinner had ended a few hours ago and your father had already started nursing his headache in typical fashion, a glass of brandy in his hand from the moment he stepped into his house. You had disappointed him. He wished that just once you could attend a business function with him, put a smile on your face, and keep your mouth shut. 
Luckily for him, both men he had hoped would be interested in his proposition had left him with some hope for the future. You hadn’t completely fucked up everything he had been working for. Out of the two men, your father hoped that Hong Jinyoung’s son would be the one who took the bait. While both of the companies were worth something, Hong Investments was like a beacon, and your father was swimming towards the dollar signs. 
Settling into his chair, your father furrows his brows at his phone and the lack of messages from you. You knew he was upset with you. He had sent you away with the new bodyguard, what was his name again, Kim? Sighing, the older man presses down on your name and puts his phone to his cheek, leaning back to take a sip of his alcohol and listening to the phone ring until your voicemail picks up. 
Cursing under his breath, your father tries your number again with the same result before scowling at your picture on his phone. You were ignoring him? You were a prideful brat, but you weren’t a complete idiot. You knew that he would cut off your credit cards if you made him mad enough; no, something else was going on. 
Just as he was about to press down on your name for the third time, an unknown number appeared on his phone. Furrowing his brows, your father starts to wonder if perhaps something happened to your phone—this was you calling from a new number. That didn’t make sense. Sighing into his words, he answers the phone with annoyance and confusion evident in his tone. 
“Hello?”
The man on the other side of the phone smirked at hearing how annoyed your father seemed. He had never met Mr. Y/L/N, but he had heard stories and he knew the man’s pockets were deep. 
“Mr. Y/L/N, good evening.” 
Scoffing, thinking that it’s a solicitor or even a collector of some kind, your father starts to press the end button before he hears the man speak again. 
“Missing something—or someone, I should say?” 
There were many things that your father didn’t enjoy and being pulled along and fucked with was one of them. Sitting up, he narrows his eyes, glancing down into his glass of brandy before taking a sip and letting out a breath between his teeth before answering the man. 
“Like what? Who is this?” 
A grin stretches on the other man’s face as he leans back in his chair, glancing down at the picture of you on his desk. Using the tip of a pen, he pushes the picture around aimlessly before letting out an unamused laugh at the old man’s questions. 
“Don’t play senile. I know you are wondering where Y/N is. As for my name, just call me Mr. Park.” 
There were plenty of Mr. Park’s in Seoul. Rolling his eyes, your father clenches his hand around the brandy glass before sitting it down hard on the table in front of him. 
“Fine, Mr. Park, where is my daughter?” 
Now they were getting somewhere. This is how money is made. Park Bonhwa grins at your picture once again, pulling it back towards him. You were beautiful and even in the candid picture he had of you, he could tell that you were expensive. You were worth every penny he had been offered to set up this job. 
“With a friend... where she will stay, until we can come to an agreement.” 
At those words, a smile pulls at your father’s lips. The idea of you being kidnapped is ridiculous; you had a bodyguard—handpicked by him—with you at all times. Shaking his head, he laughs, causing Park Bonhwa’s grin to slip and his jaw to tighten. 
“You think this is some kind of fuckin’ joke, old man? I’ll have him cut off her fingers one by one and put them on your door. Don’t you ever laugh at me again.” 
It was a joke and your father wasn’t intimidated. He would prefer to have you back in one piece, but how much this Mr. Park wanted for you was going to determine that. This wasn’t the first time that your father had been threatened and he wouldn’t turn over and show his belly to just anyone. 
“Apologies; please continue with your script. How much are you wanting for my daughter?” 
Furrowing his brows, Bonhwa finds himself a bit flustered and confused by your father’s tone and his choice of words. Was he not concerned about your safety or the condition you might be returned in? Shaking his head, he pushes forward with his task as he licks his lips and pushes your photo away. 
“10 billion won, and I can promise she will be returned to you safe—” 
“You have to be fucking kidding me.” 
After being cut off by your father, Bonhwa grits his teeth and sits up in his chair. He hadn’t played the middle man for many kidnappings, but they had never been unsuccessful. Yours shouldn’t be either. The plan seemed flawless; you were going to die either way. 
“Excuse me?” 
Standing up, your father shakes his head and looks at the phone as if the man is standing in front of him and he could shake some sense into him. He was looking at the phone as if he could teach the man how to do business better, as if the man wasn’t telling him he wanted money for his daughter’s life. 
“She’s not worth that amount of money. Where did you pull that number from? Your ass?” 
Picking at the granola bar, you could feel Wonwoo’s eyes on you when his cellphone had gone off in his pocket. Yours had gone off a few times earlier, but he had just glanced at it and finally turned it off before putting it back in his pocket. You figured it was your father and by the look on Wonwoo’s face, he wasn’t in the mood for your phone or his. 
“What?” 
Watching him, you furrow your brows as Wonwoo lifts his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose in annoyance. Maybe it was his boss? Did he have one? He had said he was hired to take you, so there was someone in charge of this. If so, why did Wonwoo look so annoyed by the man? 
“Negotiations? So what the fuck—no? What? No, I fuckin—you know what?” 
The conversation didn’t seem to be going well. If it were about your father, you could only imagine how poorly it could be. You had tried to warn Wonwoo and you had tried to make this easier on yourself and him, and yet here you sat on a filthy couch in the middle of nowhere. 
Park Bonhwa’s voice was like tin foil on a grater to Wonwoo. The man was an idiot, but he had lined Wonwoo’s pockets for this job. However, this job was starting to look like more of a pain in the ass than it had to be. 
“Don’t you tell me anything, Jeon! You’re my help. I hired you. He’s gonna agree; he just needs the motivation. Take a picture of the little bitch after you rough her up.” 
Shaking his head, Wonwoo glances over at you, watching you glance down quickly. You were afraid of him or at least afraid of the situation. He didn’t want to rough you up; he didn’t hit women. Sure, he had taken you and threatened you, but he had never hit you. He had never hit a woman in his life. Killed them? That was left up for debate, if they deserved it. 
“Yeah, whatever…” 
Hanging up, Wonwoo drops his hand to his side as he tilts his head. You already looked like shit. Maybe he could figure out another way to do this. 
“Y/N, get up. Come over here.” 
You swallow hard and shake your head. You weren’t sure what he had been told to do and you didn’t want to make any of it easy for him. Has your father really said no? Was he going to kill you now? Make you walk to him so he could put a bullet in your head? Deviantly, you grab at the couch under you, letting the granola bar slip off your lap and into the floor as Wonwoo watches his frustration rise. 
“Get the fuck up! I am giving you the chance to do this yourself. Don’t make me fucking move you myself.” 
When you still don’t move, sitting firmly on the couch, Wonwoo lets out a frustrated groan that almost sounds like a growl from his throat. Your eyes meet his and he sees the fear mixed with anger in them when his hand wraps around your bicep so that he can lift you from the couch by force. The pain reminds you of your father’s grip on you, and you feel tears collecting on your eyes, but you will them back, not wanting to give Wonwoo the satisfaction of seeing them if this is the last thing he sees of you. 
“Walk! Goddammit, why are you so fucking stubborn? I wouldn’t have to be so damn mean to you if you’d cooperate with me. You realize that? Here! No, I said here!” 
A whimper slips from your lips as you stumble in your heels, feeling your ankle roll when Wonwoo pushes you against the wall. You feel the peeling paint against your skin and you smell the mold radiating off the drywall as you squirm in his grasp until finally Wonwoo’s anger gets the best of him. A hand slams into the wall next to your head, mere centimeters from your face, making you stop moving. 
You stare at Wonwoo’s hand, letting your eyes move to his wrist and forearm, where his muscles are tense from the amount of pressure he used. You squeeze your eyes shut, imagining how bad it would have hurt if he had chosen to hit you instead of the wall. 
Wonwoo swallows hard, feeling you go pliant in his grasp. While he was used to his life, it didn’t make moments like this enjoyable. You had been a bitch to him and others around you, but it didn’t make scaring you to this point seem fun. Taking a breath, Wonwoo watches the tears run down your cheeks as he pushes away his compassion and rubs his hand against the dirty wall before grabbing your face and hearing you sob, begging him to stop. 
“Shut up and listen to me.” 
Tilting his head, Wonwoo narrows his eyes, almost eyeing your face like a canvas as he uses the dirt on his fingers as paint while he talks. 
“You’re fucked, Y/N. Daddy isn’t willing to hand over the money like they thought he would, so they want... wanted me to fuck you up.” 
Moving his hand back to the wall, Wonwoo uses your tears on his fingers to collect more of the dirt, moving his hand back to you and wrapping his hand around your throat. You tense, your hand moving to grab his forearm, nails digging into his skin, causing Wonwoo to hiss before he tightens his grasp around your throat only for a moment and loosens it. 
“I’m doing this to make it look like I beat you. I don’t beat women.” Meeting your eyes, Wonwoo watches confusion walk over your face before he clarifies. “Doesn’t mean I won’t kill you. One bullet to the back of your head and you are done, Princess.” 
He was a complicated and confusing man. You could appreciate that he wasn’t going to actually beat you like he was told to, but he was still scaring you. He was still reminding you that he could and would kill you easily. Reaching up, you start to wipe your tears but Wonwoo grabs your wrist and shakes his head before tilting it. 
“Let them run through the dirt... Makes you look more pathetic, plus... there’s something red in the dirt and your tears make it look like you are bleeding.” 
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Wonwoo looks through the pictures he sent to Bonhwa. They were too convincing, but he owed that to how terrified you were while he had taken them. Glancing over to where you lay on the couch, Wonwoo sighs, seeing the dirt still covering your face. 
It had been over 16 hours since he had taken you, and you were still in that dress. It was filthy and ripped. Your shoes were now off because your ankle had started to swell after you had rolled it. Now Wonwoo couldn’t help the way his eyes scanned the floor of the dilapidated apartment, seeing rusty nails, glass, and pieces of metal that could all end up in your feet. 
He shouldn’t care. After the pictures had been sent to Bonhwa, he received another call. Your father still wasn’t sending money and it didn’t matter anyway; Bonhwa’s contract wanted a bullet in your skull. Apparently, it wasn’t enough to bankrupt your father. The man wanted to make sure every point of income, including children, was cut off from him. 
Sliding his duffle bag closer to him, Wonwoo digs through his supplies, counting up his rations and looks over what else he had the forethought to pack. He was used to disappearing for months, even years at a time, so this wasn’t a big deal for him. It was having you here and the gnawing bit of compassion biting at the back of his head that was causing him issues. 
Taking out a pair of sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a pair of tennis shoes, Wonwoo sighs and narrows his eyes at you. He didn’t care about you. You were a dead woman walking, so why should it matter that the sight of you in that stupid fucking evening dress was making him feel sick? You had been beautiful in it before the dinner. He could admit that to himself. You were a beautiful woman. The dress had probably been custom made for you and right now it represented where you had pretended to come from. All the filth covering it represented what was really underneath all the glitz and glamor. 
Moving to drop the clothes next to you, Wonwoo watches you slowly wake up. You didn’t have much energy. You weren’t eating or drinking enough, so your body was choosing exhaustion instead. Pointing at the clothes, Wonwoo lifts his brows and waits for you to give them some recognition, but instead you sit up and wrap your arms around you, chill bumps spreading over your skin. 
“There’s no running water here... but at least you can change into something cleaner. We can get that shit off of your face.” 
Your brows furrow deeply at Wonwoo’s words. You wanted to fight him, but you just nodded and started to put your feet down when he reached out to stop you. 
“I’ll turn my back; you slip on the shoes first and then the clothes. There’s nowhere you can go, understand?” 
You were too tired to run. Looking down at the floor, you see why he had stopped you, the glass crunching under his feet as he moved a few steps away from you. Turning his back, Wonwoo glances over his shoulder to watch you put on his shoes before he looks back towards the wall when you start to unzip your dress under your arm. 
“Why are you doing this? He’s not gonna pay, Wonwoo. I’m tired…” 
It had only been 16 hours and you were already giving up. Wonwoo shouldn’t be annoyed that you were giving up; that should be a good thing in theory, but instead it was frustrating. Rolling his eyes, Wonwoo peeks over his shoulder to see you dropping your dress into the floor, your body covered in matching lace as you reach for his t-shirt. 
“Suck it up. What would you rather happen? I just killed you now.” 
Pulling the shirt over your head, you scoff, finding it amusing how his words don’t really scare you this time. They almost seem like a joke. Meeting Wonwoo’s eyes briefly, you watch him look away quickly, clearing his throat. You know you should be upset that he was looking at you in a vulnerable state, but instead you slip one foot out of the borrowed shoes and start pulling on the sweatpants. 
“Why not? Seems like a waste of everyone's time.” 
Taken aback by your answer, Wonwoo hears you sigh, the couch settling as you sit down behind him. Turning around to face you, he looks at you in his clothes before his eyes move to the dirt he had painted on your face and throat. You watch as Wonwoo takes a bottle of water from his bag along with a towel, pouring some on to it as he kneels in front of you. 
“Think so low of yourself all of a sudden, Princess? What happened to all that confidence you had yesterday?” 
Wonwoo lifts his hand with the towel to wipe at your skin but at first you wince in fear. Meeting his eyes, he gives you a look of reassurance before trying again and this time you lean slightly into his touch. It takes some pressure for Wonwoo to get the dirt off of your skin; his eyes follow his hand even as he pours more water on to new sections of the towel. 
“I’m just a good liar.” 
That Wonwoo could tell wasn’t a lie. He knew you were a liar. He had caught you in plenty of lies in the short time he had known you, so perhaps he wouldn’t call you a good liar, but a liar nonetheless. Wonwoo’s brows knit together in thought as he lifts his free hand up to hold your chin as he rubs as gently as possible at your neck to clean his handprint from it, feeling you swallow under his touch. 
“So you gonna be truthful with me now that you are so ready to die? Or are you ready and willing to die because you hate your life so much?” 
It was none of Wonwoo’s business to answer either of those questions, but you didn’t mind that he had asked them. The only issue was that they brought tears to your eyes. Wonwoo moves your face from side to side, his eyes searching for dirt to clear from your face, before he meets your eyes and sees more tears threatening to spill over the rims. 
“You know I hate my life. You saw it firsthand.” 
Tossing the towel to the side, Wonwoo stands and puts the lid back on the water bottle before dropping it back into his bag. You watch as he leans to swipe your destroyed dress from the floor, balling it up in his hands like trash as he thinks. 
“I did, and from the outside looking in, darlin’, your life looks cushy. But that’s all smoke and mirrors, isn’t it?” Wonwoo doesn’t watch you nod, even as you do. “Won’t lie, your daddy acts like he’s running an escort service, but you’re the only one working.” 
Wonwoo’s words cause your face to heat up. You are angry with him, with his words, and with the truth. You know he’s not wrong and you’ve heard the rumors before. If it isn’t a marriage he is trying to set up for you with a rich son or a business partner, at least he can get a date for you, and you are reminded to make them happy. Happy is such a broad term, but you knew what it meant. You hate your father for it and any of the men who wanted the dates. 
Dropping your dress in the corner of the room, deeming that the new trash pile, Wonwoo moves back over to you to kneel in front of you. He meets your eyes, then reaches out to slide the leg of your new sweatpants up so he can look at your ankle. When you wince, his fingers prodding at the swollen muscle, he nods and sighs. 
“It’s not broken; you’ll live.” 
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Wonwoo runs his thumb along his palm as he watches you sleep. This has become his new pastime over the past couple of days. It hadn’t been his plan, but between disappointingly annoying phone calls from Bonhwa and watching time tick away, Wonwoo watched your spirit dwindle with it. 
In reality, he knew he shouldn’t care. In fact, it should be a good thing. You were less combative. You ran your mouth less. You complained about things less, and yet Wonwoo was starting to miss that fiery woman who made his blood boil. This fragile thing laying in a ball on the couch was a shadow of you, and he had done that. Maybe not on his own, but he was the hands, if not the head. 
Leaning his head back against the door, Wonwoo picks up his cellphone, looking at another text message from Bonhwa. Each time his phone rang today, he had let it go to voicemail. He wasn’t some errand boy. Park Bonhwa had already paid him for this job; sure, there was still something left to do, but he couldn’t keep asking him for more shit without adding zeros to the end of what he had given him. Especially the shit he was asking for. 
Park: I’m tired of your bullshit
Park: As if I’m not already dealing with enough from the bitch’s daddy 
Park: Hyong wants more pictures 
2 missed calls from Park 
Park: You son of a bitch 
Park: answer the fucking phone! 
Answering the phone Wonwoo hisses out his words, keeping his voice low so as not to wake you. 
“What the fuck do you want? I sent pictures—” 
“Shut your fucking mouth. Price came down and the motherfucker is still refusing to pay up like Hyong wants him too. Send more.” 
Wonwoo didn’t know who Hyong was; he figured it was the man who had hired Bonhwa, but truthfully, he didn’t care. The less he knew, the better. Biting at his cheek, Wonwoo rolls his eyes and shakes his head. 
“I’m not touching her again. Bad enough, the fucker wants her dead anyway.” 
Slamming his fist down on his desk, Bonhwa grits his teeth and scoffs into his phone. 
“Worthless. I thought you were a professional. The best? Did I waste my fuckin’ money?” Giving Wonwoo only a moment to start to speak, Bonhwa cuts him off before he gets out the first syllable. “Do I need to send some boys to find you and the girl? Have them finish the job?”
The idea of that made Wonwoo sick to his stomach. He knew enough about Park Bonhwa and his men to know he’d rather kill you himself than let them near you. They wouldn’t just kill you. They would assault you, torture you, film it like Bonhwa wanted, and then kill you. 
“Fuck off. I'll take care of it.” 
Hanging up the phone, Wonwoo tosses the phone into his bag with a louder groan than he meant to cause you to stir from your sleep. Furrowing your brows, you glance towards the man with a bit of concern in your eyes. The past day, he had changed his attitude towards you in some ways. He wasn’t nice, per se, but he wasn’t unnecessarily cruel either.
Meeting your eyes, Wonwoo sighs, lifting his hand to brush it through his hair. He needed a shower and so did you. It would do some good to move locations. It wasn’t his plan. He knew he could tie you to one of the exposed pipes and go do what he needed to do, but for some reason he found himself not wanting to do that. 
“Wanna go for some fresh air, princess?” 
Sitting up slowly, you consider Wonwoo’s question before nodding. You had heard some of his conversations with his boss, this Park man, and none of them had you convinced that this was going your way. 
Wonwoo gets to his feet, leaning to pick up his duffle bag as you slide from the couch. His eyes follow you carefully, watching how you weakly move towards him. That pang of pity hits him and Wonwoo tries to force it back down, only for it to rise up in his throat like bile. Shaking his head, Wonwoo wraps his arm around your waist, letting you lean against him as you try to keep some weight off your swollen ankle as the two of you walk back down the stairs. 
“Can I ask a question?” 
Your voice surprises Wonwoo as he opens the back door of the car for you. Meeting your gaze, he tilts his head and nods once, waiting for you to continue. 
“Are you going to kill me?” 
Your question makes the bile bubble in Wonwoo’s throat once again. Looking away, Wonwoo has to clear his throat, forcing the sick feeling down before he once again meets your eyes. There is fear in your eyes, but also a deep sadness that Wonwoo has started to notice as your confident facade starts to crack. Wonwoo knew he could lie to you but what good would that do to anyone? 
“I’m supposed to. That’s the job.” 
Tears sit on the rims of your eyes as you nod while sitting down on the backseat of the car. You try to think of the right words or a reason to beg for your life, but you can’t think of a single reason. Wonwoo furrows his brows as he watches you nod and pull your legs into the car. His eyes trace the tears as they run down your cheeks before he closes the door and curses under his breath. No other mark had made him feel like this. Why did you feel different? 
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Looking around the house, you wrap your arms around you, waiting for the punchline of Wonwoo’s joke. He had taken you from the most disgusting, dilapidated apartment building you had ever seen to a modest sized house just outside of the city. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it was clean and had modern comforts. 
Wonwoo locks the door, shielding the keypad with his large upper body, as you hear the sound of a code being keyed into the security system. Turning back to face you as you stand in the foyer, clearly confused, he sighs, dropping his duffle bag with a dull thud before crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes. 
“Let me make something clear to you, Y/N. This doesn’t change anything. I’m just tired of sleeping on the fuckin’ ground.” 
You couldn’t tell if he was lying. That was something you hadn’t mastered yet. Wonwoo was so closed off and you were too tired to pry. Swallowing hard, you look down as he keeps staring at you, his eyes almost studying you as they move along your frame, continuing his explanation. 
“You try to open a door to the outside; I’ll know and you’ll regret it. Don’t fuck with me, understand?” 
Nodding, you pick at a loose string on the sweatpants you were currently borrowing. They were ill fitting, but still warmer and better than the dress that you had been wearing. You wanted to tell Wonwoo you were grateful for the clothes and for him moving you here, but you find yourself almost afraid to tell him anything. You were afraid that if you showed any sign of comfort, he might take it away because Park told him too. 
“Good girl. Come on.” 
Grabbing your wrist, Wonwoo guides you down the hall, turning on a light that makes you squint. You had grown accustomed to the low light of the camping lamps in the apartment. The lights in the house were almost too much at first. Glancing up, you blink a few times before you realize Wonwoo has led you to a bathroom. You feel tears once again coat your eyes, but you will them back as you watch him turn on the shower and mutter to himself before sighing and looking you over. 
“Here’s the deal, alright?” Swallowing hard, Wonwoo looks like he’s in pain at the words he is trying to force out of his mouth as he leans against the bathroom counter before he meets your eyes once again. “I don’t want to hurt you. What I told you is true, but they want more pictures.” 
A small sob escapes from your lips and Wonwoo feels his stomach tighten, the bile once again churning. Perhaps once he had enjoyed putting a little fear into you, but now it was chipping away at something inside of him. 
Taking a step back from Wonwoo, you feel the wall behind you as you close your eyes, tears slipping down your cheeks. You had no idea what sort of pictures they could want now. The last ones had broken you and Wonwoo hadn’t done more than scare you. He had taken them in a way to mimic pain, but still, they had caused you enough pain. 
“I don’t want to, Wonwoo.” 
Running his hand over his mouth, Wonwoo nods. He wants to tell you that he doesn’t want to either, but he also doesn’t want the alternative if he doesn’t deliver them. 
“If I don’t send them to him, Park will have his goons track you and I down. They are worse than me. Their pictures won’t be fake…” 
“Yours aren’t fake! I’m—” Lifting your hands, you rub at your cheeks, smearing dirt from your hands onto your face in the process of wiping your tears. “I’m so scared. Just kill me. Please? I don’t wanna do this anymore.” 
Taking the step across the bathroom towards you, Wonwoo listens to your breath get caught in your throat. He watches your body tense up as you prepare yourself for him to scare you; instead, he takes your wrist loosely in his hand. With his other hand, he carefully rubs at your cheek, trying to clean a smear of dirt from your skin. 
“Why the fuck are you just giving up now? Because your daddy is an asshole? You already knew that.” 
Leaning your head back against the wall, you meet Wonwoo’s eyes briefly before his eyes move along your face. You were still scared, but there was something about him and about his words that made your shoulders rise. You felt less small if, even for just a moment, you wanted to explain yourself, but maybe that was why he had chosen those words. 
“Why not? I told you the moment we stepped into that apartment that he wouldn’t give up any money. He’d rather see me dead.” 
Groaning in annoyance, Wonwoo slides his hand from your face to rest his fist next to your head on the wall. You feel how close he is to you; his body caging you in. It feels oppressive for a moment until he shakes his head and meets your eyes and the look in his eyes makes the way he’s standing and how close he is feel like a shield. 
“I don’t care what he wants and neither should you. I don’t know why you are so fucking sure—” 
“Life insurance, Wonwoo.” 
Your words cut him off; Wonwoo’s brows knit together tightly. The look on his face is almost one of pain, as much as it is confusion, until the words seem to sink into reality. Nodding, Wonwoo scoffs and leans his head back, a laugh slipping from between his lips before he looks back down at you and shakes his head. 
“How much?” 
Wonwoo can see how you have relaxed in front of him. The steam filling the room is comforting and tempting, but he keeps his eyes on you, waiting for your answer. 
“100 billion.” 
That explained everything. You were worth so much more to him dead than you were alive. Park’s associate clearly hadn’t done his homework. Wonwoo feels his blood boiling at the idea of a father putting that much worth on his child, hoping she would die before he would so he would benefit. There had been a lot of shitty things he had done in his life, but in that moment, he decided that killing you wouldn’t be one of them. 
“No.” 
Confused by Wonwoo’s response, you tilt your head and repeat it back to him as a question. To you, it was simple. It was exactly what was happening. You were explaining it perfectly, there was no reason for Wonwoo not to understand. Starting to speak again, you stop when Wonwoo shakes his head. You feel his fingers trail up your forearm as he lets out a sigh before they once again encircle your wrist. 
“He doesn’t get what he wants.” Gesturing his head towards the shower, Wonwoo takes a step back from you, gently pulling you from the wall. “Take a shower; we can talk about the pictures later. Fuck all of them.” 
Opening your mouth, you close it once again when Wonwoo mutters something under his breath before leaving you in the room alone. You were confused and surprised by his reaction. You had expected him to talk you into taking whatever pictures Park wanted. You had been mentally preparing yourself for some humiliating experience, but instead you were now alone in a warm bathroom. 
Looking at yourself in the mirror, you frown at the sight. You can see the dirt smeared on your skin and how disheveled your hair has gotten from a lack of care. Giving one last glance at the door, almost certain Wonwoo will come back in, you let out a slow, calming breath before stripping yourself of your borrowed clothes and making your way to the much welcomed shower. 
Leaning against the wall outside of the bathroom, Wonwoo listens to the sound of the water hitting the shower floor. He can imagine it running along your body, though he tries to push that thought from his mind quickly, afraid of where it might lead. Instead, he reminds himself how good a shower must feel after a couple days of being with him and how he has treated you. Sighing to himself, Wonwoo imagines the water pooling at your feet after it washes away the dirt, hoping it will wash away some of your stress, just like he hopes it will wash away his own. 
Taking his cellphone from his jeans, Wonwoo scowls at a text from Bonhwa before replying and shoving it back into his pocket. He had no respect for the man. Not that he had before learned from you, but now he had no reason to keep any loyalty towards him. 
Park: Chop chop, Jeon. I want my pictures. 
Wonwoo: When I’m ready.
Picking up his duffle bag, Wonwoo climbs the flight of stairs to the second floor, turning on the light for the bedroom. He had many safe houses. They were in various locations around Korea and other countries. None were in his real name and each one was kept stocked by people he could trust. This one was no different. 
Opening the dresser, Wonwoo furrows his brows at the clothing choice. There was plenty for him, but he was limited in his choices for you. It wasn’t his every day that he kept a mark with him and clothed them. Tossing a few things onto the bed, Wonwoo turns his attention to the closet, tilting his head at a few items near the back. Things he had forgotten had been left behind by those he would never name. He found himself pleased with his own hoarding tendencies as he pulled a simple summer dress and sweater from the closet, hoping they would fit you. 
With a towel wrapped around your body, you look through the drawers in the bathroom for things you might be able to use. A face wash and moisturizer catch your eye and you find yourself wondering if they belong to Wonwoo or if he had friends, perhaps a girlfriend you weren’t aware of. Shaking your head, you quickly use the products and relish in the feeling of brushing your teeth before you hear the sound of Wonwoo’s voice on the other side of the door. 
“Y/N? I—are you decent? Well, decent enough for me to come in?” 
You think back to Wonwoo peeking over his shoulder at you changing at the apartment as you glance towards the door. Your cheeks start to heat up as you hold your towel tighter and pull the door open, letting Wonwoo inside if he wants. 
Wonwoo takes a deep breath as his eyes move over your legs and up to your face. You watch as he seems to forget what he is doing for a brief moment before lifting his hands to show you the clothes he has collected for you. Furrowing your brows, you can’t help but smile even slightly at the sight of the dress over Wonwoo’s arm. It’s a simple soft green knee mid-thigh length dress that you know you would have never worn before all of this, but now the dress looks like comfort and kindness. 
“I don’t know if they will fit you, but they are all I could find. I could get you some of my things if you’d prefer—” 
“These are great, Wonwoo, if that’s okay?” 
Reaching out for the dress and sweater, you accidentally brush your hand over Wonwoo’s before pulling your hand back on instinct. You find yourself nervous, perhaps even a bit afraid of what his response might be. Looking down, your brows furrowed, you hear Wonwoo say your name softly, drawing your attention back up to him. 
“It’s okay. Get dressed and we can…” You watch Wonwoo scoff into a laugh at how ridiculous he feels at his own words as he says them. “Talk about your situation.” 
Not really understanding what Wonwoo means, you just nod and take the clothes from him, stepping back so he can shut the bathroom door once again. Your fingers carefully brush over the fabric in your hands and you feel goosebumps spread over your skin at how soft the sweater feels. Had Wonwoo noticed how cold you had been at the apartment? Was this a kind gesture to keep you warmer here? Should you not think about it like that? 
Glancing up at the ceiling as you hear water running, you tilt your head, realizing that Wonwoo was probably using another bathroom to take his own shower. He was trusting you not to run. Granted, he had given you a warning not to run. He had set an alarm and told you what would happen, but there was still a level of trust in taking a shower knowing you were done. 
With the sweater over your new dress, you look at the front door. There were three deadbolts, a chain, and a keypad that you had heard Wonwoo type something into earlier. It would take you a few minutes to get them all undone and the alarm would go off, but then you could run. You were exhausted, you were hungry, and now you were confused. 
Running your fingers over the soft sleeves of your sweater, you look behind you up the stairs, where you can still hear running water. Was this a test? Your mind goes back to what Wonwoo said before he left you alone but more so about what he said before your shower. 
“He doesn’t get what he wants.” 
Moving away from the door, you look around the living room. Your eyes fall to the soft couch, a sigh slipping from your lips as you sit down on it, feeling the cloth against the back of your legs. It was so much nicer than the dirty leather of the one in the apartment. You weren’t sure how this house worked if Wonwoo lived here often, but it was clean and almost felt like home. 
Running his fingers through his wet hair, Wonwoo looks around the bedroom, listening for any signs of you. He hadn’t gotten any alerts that the doors had been opened, but if you had, he wouldn’t have really blamed you. Sure, he had warned you not to do it, but that had been before everything he had learned about your father and now if you walked out that door, he might just let you go. The only thing stopping him was the fear that Bonhwa’s men would find you before he did. 
Jogging down the steps, Wonwoo tugs his shirt down his torso, only to meet your eyes as he rounds the doorway into the living room. You were lying on the couch and it reminded him so much of the apartment. The main difference here is that you looked comfortable and somehow even more beautiful. You almost took his breath away in the new dress, the sweater’s sleeves held at your palms by your fingers. 
“Hey…” 
Meeting Wonwoo’s eyes, you sit up quickly. That fear that he might be upset at your comfort suddenly hits you until he sighs. Gesturing with his thumb over his shoulder, Wonwoo closes his eyes in thought before finally speaking. 
“I’ll make something warm to eat. I can’t promise it’ll be good or not expired. But it’ll be food. Then we can talk.” 
Smiling to yourself, you lift your hand to your lips to hide your smile as you watch Wonwoo move across the hall into the kitchen. There had been a shift in him over the past couple of days but more so today. This Wonwoo was still intense; he frightened you at times, but he was also warm and comforting in a strange way. 
Turning to lay on your stomach, you rest your chin on your arm, watching Wonwoo open cabinets. From where you are, you can hear him muttering something to himself and see him occasionally reach up to scratch at his brow before he finally seems to figure out what to do next. 
After a few minutes of struggling, he finally manages to find a pot for water and some ramen. Looking over his shoulder back into the living room, Wonwoo has to hide his smirk, finding you watching him from the couch. The way you are lying is cute—your ankles crossed, knees bent so your feet can be up in the air. It reminds him of girls in dramas watching television or writing in their diaries, not that he’s watched a drama or movie in years. 
With ramen on the table in front of you, still in the pot, Wonwoo offers you a set of chopsticks as he sits near you on the floor. Shifting to sit next to him, you lean over the table to look down at the food with appreciation before giving the same look to Wonwoo. 
“Thank you… I–I honestly didn’t expect you to give me anything.” 
Taking a deep breath, Wonwoo nods, gesturing for you to take the first bite. He watches you savor some of the noodles as his brows furrow, feeling his phone vibrate in his sweatpants pocket. He knew he should check it, but that would require caring what Park Bonhwa had to say, and right now he didn’t. Right now, the only thing that he cared about was getting something in your stomach and having a conversation that didn’t end with you being terrified of him. 
“That’s fair. I haven’t—look, this isn’t the most ideal situation we are in.” 
Scoffing, you stop yourself immediately, lowering your head apologetically at your gut reaction. You couldn’t help but find the irony in Wonwoo’s words. You knew it wasn’t an ideal situation but if it wasn’t ideal for him, he should try being you. You were the one who was going to be dead soon. 
“You’re allowed to react, princess.” 
That name. At first, it had made you angry, but you figured that was probably Wonwoo's desired reaction to it. Now the name makes your cheeks burn with something else. It made you feel shy and while it still made you feel smaller than Wonwoo, you didn’t hate that feeling. His larger than life stature over you, standing between you and Park somehow seemed like a good thing right now. 
“Just don’t wanna piss you off. I’m good at that, if you remember...” 
Smirking, Wonwoo tilts his head before leaning to eat some of the noodles and licking the broth from his lips. He did remember, but the you that had seemed dead set on frustrating him to no end a few days ago now seemed like she was miles away. You were someone different and he wanted to find the woman who was in the middle. 
“Trust me, I do.” 
Watching you, Wonwoo can’t help the way he has to take a breath as you blow at the ramen with a small smile on your face at his words. If this were any other situation, one might mistake it for a date, but he knew the reason you were here just as much as you did. 
“Do you even want to go home?” 
The question makes you stop what you are doing mid bite. Furrowing your brows, you glance over at Wonwoo, finding his eyes on you. Your stomach tightens at how intense his gaze is, the weight behind it and his question. It was a loaded question with many different possible answers, but only one that you could think of. 
“No.” 
Looking down at his hands, Wonwoo nods, letting that reality sink in. He had a few options laid out in front of him of how this week could end. He could follow through with what he had been paid to do. He could kill you, put your body on your father’s doorstep, and call it a job well done. He could let you go, never thinking of you again, but Wonwoo finds himself struggling to picture himself doing that and you surviving. Then there was the third option... 
“I have a friend—mmm, no, let’s call him an acquaintance; we aren’t friends. This acquaintance has been in touch about you.” 
The words all make sense but yet you shake your head, not understanding what any of them mean. You didn’t know Wonwoo’s acquaintances or his friends and you weren’t sure what they would want with you, unless... 
“He wants to kill me?” 
Meeting your eyes almost in shock by your assumption, Wonwoo shakes his head and sighs. The sigh is loud and exasperated because clearly he’s not going quickly enough and explaining well enough. 
“No, Jesus, Y/N… No, he’s—he’s a detective. I could either hand you over to him or—or I could have him help me let you disappear.” 
Looking around the room, you repeat some of what Wonwoo had said back to yourself as if trying to understand it before meeting his eyes. He had changed his mind. He wasn’t going to kill you. You hadn’t been wrong in the shift you had seen in him; you just didn’t understand why. 
“Why? I mean… not that I’m not grateful and that I don’t want it—”
“Which one?” 
Cutting you off with his question, Wonwoo slides his arm along the couch cushion behind your back as you look at him, lost for words. He expected a quick decision and you weren’t sure you were capable. Shaking your head, you lay down your chopsticks and lean back against the couch, a bit surprised to feel Wonwoo’s hand against your arm. Looking down at his fingers, you furrow your brows, watching them flex once before he braves the water and rests them against your bicep. 
“I need to know because there isn’t a lot of time for this to work. I’m not trying to scare you by saying that, but honestly, you should still be scared. I’m not saying anything about me; I’m not going to hurt you… but Bonhwa…” 
Meeting Wonwoo’s eyes once again, you have a new, intrigued look on your face at learning a name. You hadn’t heard the name Bonhwa before; was that Park’s first name? 
“He would? Park Bonhwa?” 
Realizing what he had said, Wonwoo looks down with a sigh. Nodding, he lifts his free hand to rub at his brows before looking up at you once again. 
“Yes, he’s a piece of shit, Y/N. Some bigger piece of shit hired him to do this. Somebody who doesn’t like your father.” 
Now you are starting to learn things and understand them. You didn’t know anyone named Park Bonhwa, but your father had plenty of enemies and plenty of people pretending to be friends who would want his downfall. 
“So if I disappear, how does that work?” 
Pursing his lips, Wonwoo shifts closer to you and makes an unsure sound. 
“I’ll have to work it out with Cheo—with my acquaintance. If it’s what you want, I’ll figure it out.” 
Looking over Wonwoo’s face, you find yourself nodding, convinced by his words but still something hangs in the air. There was something that made you pause and look at him with uncertainty. 
“Why are you doing this for me? You hate me.” 
Looking at his hand as he picks at the sweater resting over your arm, Wonwoo sighs at your question. It was a fair one. He hadn’t given you any other reason to think otherwise. He had pretty much told you more than once that he didn’t like you, that he hated you, but you had returned the favor. Looking at you now, Wonwoo was almost too shy to look back up at your eyes.
"Uh—yeah, well, shit changes, doesn’t it? When you aren’t trying to actively hate someone for the job and they aren’t being a bitch for fun?”
Letting out a scoff, you meet Wonwoo’s eyes, almost defiantly realizing how close he is. You can see his brows knit together as his eyes waver from your eyes to your lips and back. Neither of you are idiots or immune to the tension blanketing the two of you as your eyes follow a similar path on his face. 
“It wasn’t for fun... all the time. Most of the time it was—” 
“A shield?”
Nodding, you find your brows pulling together this time at Wonwoo’s words, as he seems to know you better than to anticipate. He had been paying attention to you and listening to what you had been saying over the past few days. Inhaling softly, you feel Wonwoo’s fingers press against your arm as he mutters a curse under his breath, leaning his head in closer to yours. You can almost see the internal battle written on Wonwoo’s face as he struggles with the desire to act on his wants and instincts compared to what he knows he should do. 
“Are you still afraid of me?” 
Shaking your head, you pause to lick your lips and Wonwoo smiles, knowing you aren’t telling him the full truth. Maybe you weren’t as afraid of him as you once were, but there is still fear left. Giving into desire, Wonwoo leans in the last few inches, letting his lips barely brush against yours as he speaks, letting you decide to meet his kiss or pull away. 
“Promised I wouldn’t hurt you. I won’t let anyone else either.”
A small whine escapes from your lips at Wonwoo’s confession and the feeling of his breath on your lips. You have a split second to consider your options before you give in to your desires and meet his kiss gently. You have little to no reason to trust Wonwoo and yet now everything in your being is telling you that you can, as his lips mesh with yours. 
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Flexing your fingers, you dig them into the mattress under you, enjoying the feeling of it under you. There was something freeing about this fucked up situation you found yourself in. There were still some who expected something out of you, but you had the most unexpected shield. 
Opening your eyes, you look at Wonwoo’s face as he sleeps beside you. After the simple kiss, he insisted you finish eating and ushered you upstairs to bed. You could remember the same man who had forced you up steps a few days earlier, but he seemed a million miles away now. 
The man sleeping beside you now, his brows knit together as he dreamed, wasn’t that person. Perhaps he was on the surface, but underneath that mask, you were learning he was a warm, complicated person. He wasn’t the asshole you had called him so many times and you weren’t the bitch you pretended to be. There was an art to lying as much as you two had to one another. 
Shifting slightly, you take a breath, only to hold it when Wonwoo’s eyes flutter open. He was apparently a light sleeper. You had wondered if he was; he always seemed to be awake at the apartment so seeing him asleep was a rare, fleeting treat. Looking over your face, Wonwoo’s lips pull up slightly in a smile before he turns to lay on his back with a sigh. 
“Didn’t mean to wake you up.” 
Shaking his head, Wonwoo rubs his eyes with his middle finger and thumb as he yawns. You smile watching him enjoy how domestic the moment feels, wishing it would never end. You find yourself letting your eyes move over Wonwoo a bit more brazenly while he’s distracted. How attractive he was had never escaped you; it had just been overshadowed by how much he had frightened you, but now, as he rubbed at his tired eyes, you found him even more handsome. 
“I don’t really sleep.” 
Pursing your lips, you pull your legs up towards your stomach under the blanket, your thumbnail resting against your lips as you try to hide your smile. Wonwoo lifts his brows at your reaction to him, his eyes doing something similar to yours, but he takes a bit more time before taking a breath and licking his lips. 
“What? You don’t believe me?” 
Resting your head on your bicep, you shake it slightly, move your hand from your lips. 
“It’s not that. You just confuse me. I’m not sure you are human.” 
Smiling, Wonwoo lifts his brow and lets his eyes once again move over your pretty face. If he let himself, he could imagine this being a very normal situation. Just two people lying in bed, getting closer to one another. It was almost terrifying to him that he wanted that, but looking at you as you nuzzled your cheek to the soft sweater you were now lovingly wearing, Wonwoo yearned for it. 
“I am… I just tend to run off caffeine and power naps.” 
Your laugh is welcomed music to Wonwoo’s ears. He had heard it before, when you were living your life before all of this. It hadn’t sounded like this, though. It was almost robotic then and annoying. It had gotten on his nerves; everything about you before had, and it had made hurting you easier. He couldn’t imagine hurting the girl in front of him now. Now he was fighting the urge to run his fingers over your face and over your hair. He was trying to convince himself not to kiss you again. 
“That can’t be healthy. Someone needs to take care of you, Kim Wonwoo.” 
Hearing the fake name that he had given you and your father, Wonwoo’s smile fades. You watch Wonwoo’s eyes move away from yours, his mouth opening and closing as if he’s trying to think of what to say. You are about to ask him what’s wrong when the sound of his phone ringing draws his attention away from you and towards the nightstand. 
Narrowing his eyes at the name on the screen, Wonwoo sits up, swiping it almost angrily from the top of the nightstand before answering the phone. Your eyes follow him as he slides from the bed and runs his fingers through his hair, his voice suddenly deeper and rougher. 
“What the fuck do you want now?” 
Scowling at Wonwoo’s attitude, Park Bonhwa slams the door to his Cadillac, giving a lingering look to his driver. They all knew he was in a bad mood, he had been since he had taken on this contract and it was giving them all a headache. Jeon Wonwoo was a serious pain in the ass.
“You know what I fucking wanted, motherfucker! Now I just want her corpse. I’ll send someone else to get it if you are too much of a pussy to—” 
“You won’t do anything!” 
Being cut off by Wonwoo, Bonhwa smacks his hand against the metal door in front of him. The professional that had come so highly recommended was starting to look more like a petulant child than a hitman. 
“Who the hell do you think you are to tell me what I can and can’t do, Jeon?” 
Swallowing hard, Wonwoo glances back at you, realizing you could hear more of his conversation than he would like. He could see the tears on your cheeks and he needed to fix this. Pulling open the bedroom door, Wonwoo slams it behind him, leaving you alone and unable to hear anything more than his muffled angry voice and the occasional word, but it was enough. You understood what “Park” wanted. Wonwoo had offered to help you disappear, but maybe that was too difficult. 
Hissing out his words like venom, Wonwoo glares at the window in front of him as if Bonhwa is in front of him. At this point, he wished the man was. He would let him take your place and make this all a lot simpler. 
“I’ll take care of it! Wire the goddamn money, you piece of shit. If your timeline can speed up, my price can go up.” 
Wonwoo can hear Bonhwa’s argument starting but he is quick to cut him off before he starts by ending the call. There was a lot to explain to you and a lot to apologize for. Granted, he didn’t really owe you or anyone an apology for living his life and making a living in the best way he knew how. It wasn’t his fault he had fallen—no, he wasn’t going to admit that even to himself. 
Scrolling through his contacts, Wonwoo hits another name, placing the phone back against his ear and letting it ring. His head was starting to hurt. He hadn’t slept enough; like he had told you, he rarely did, but now it was starting to weigh on him. 
“What? Turning yourself in?” 
Wonwoo scoffs at Choi Seungcheol’s words as he slides down the wall outside of the bedroom. There had only been one man who had even come close to catching him and it had been Detective Choi Seungcheol. The only reason he hadn’t was because of a deal struck between a desperate man and an even more desperate, not always by the book, detective. It had worked in Wonwoo’s favor then and he hoped it would now. 
“Never. Need to ask for that favor.” 
Rolling his eyes, Seungcheol glances around his office before leaning to close the door with a deafening click. He owed Wonwoo more than one favor, but luckily for him so far none of them had bit him in the ass. He hoped this one wouldn’t either. 
“And you need to get that girl home, Wonwoo. How long are you gonna keep her away from her family?” 
"Forever, hopefully, with your help.” 
That hadn’t been the answer that Seungcheol had been expecting. He hadn’t heard about your kidnapping through your father until another reliable source brought it to his attention. It was only when he and another officer approached your father did he even admit to you being taken. Seungcheol knew there was something strange about this case. It didn’t matter if fathers were told not to tell the police about their children being kidnapped, they would. That was just a father’s instinct to protect a child. Your father was different. He seemed like he had already accepted your death. 
“I—and why the fuck would I—”
“Because I’m going to help you get a promotion, Cheol.” 
Wonwoo knew that would get Seungcheol’s attention and it did. Now the detective was listening, his lips pursed as he looked at his computer in front of him, deep in thought, before finally letting out a breath. 
“How so?”
Of course, he would want to know what he would get out of it first. That detail didn’t make Wonwoo feel the best about this, but he would go about it however he needed to in order to help you now. Glancing towards the closed door, hoping that you weren’t upset with him for walking out, Wonwoo chewed at his cheek and knocked his head back against the wall. 
“Her dad, I think I can get—no, I know I can get enough to blow a whistle on his company. It’d be one hell of a bust for you, Detective Choi.”
Leaning forward to rest his elbow on his desk, Seungcheol scoffed at Wonwoo’s attempt at flattery. It was working. He knew that Y/L/N Financial Incorporation was shady, but he couldn’t touch it. There were too many lawyers and hoops to jump through in the corporate world that gave Seungcheol ulcers, but if it were laid in his lap… Well, that was a different story. Bringing down a corrupt trading company that many had lost their money to could do just what Wonwoo had said. He could have almost any position in the department that he wanted, or he could run for office. 
“And what do you need from me?” 
A breath of relief washes over Wonwoo at Seungcheol’s question. He knew the man had other connections and between the two of them and pulling a few other strings, they could solve this. 
“She doesn’t want to go home, Cheol, and they all want her dead. So, we give them what they want. She gets a fresh start and a new name.” 
This wasn’t something easily done, but Seungcheol knew that Wonwoo knew that. He knew what he was asking of him and now Seungcheol wasn’t sure if the prize was worth the work. Making a sound of concern, Seungcheol sits back in his chair, glancing towards his door, when Wonwoo speaks up once again. 
“Have you met her father?” 
Furrowing his brows, Seungcheol remembers talking to the man in his office. The older man had refused to come to the station, and even meeting in his own plush personal office seemed like an inconvenience. Talking about your kidnapping and possible impending death seemed like an inconvenience for him. Seungcheol remembered leaving frustrated and confused. He wasn’t a father yet but he hoped that he would be a better one than yours. 
“Mm, a real son of a bitch.” 
“He’s got a hell of a life insurance policy for Y/N. He doesn’t want her back, Cheol. Imagine how that might make her feel. She knew the moment I took her that she wasn’t going to make it, and I wasn’t even the one who told her.” 
Guilt hits Seungcheol in the stomach. He wants to argue with Wonwoo, turn on the cop and get angry with him for taking you, but from the sound of your situation, maybe it was a good thing he had taken you out of it. He wasn’t an idiot; he had already been told the stories of the business parties and the deals your father tried to make involving you. Seungcheol shakes his head and scoffs, making a face as if he’d eaten something sour.
“Fine, I’ll help you—I’ll help Y/N. Get your information together to make it worth my time. You know what you’re askin’ for, Wonwoo. Your information isn’t good enough and I lose my job? I’ll kill you.” 
Wonwoo grins at Seungcheol’s threat, though he knows it's a good one. He knew that Choi Seungcheol would be one of the only people who would probably be able to hunt him down and would kill him given the chance, but it wouldn’t happen. 
“The information will be better than good.” 
Picking at your nails, you lean your head back against the headboard, listening to Wonwoo’s muffled voice just outside of the bedroom. The first conversation had been heated and full of hatred, but this second one seemed to be going his way. 
Your tears had dried on your cheeks, but the churning feeling hadn’t quite settled in your stomach by the time Wonwoo opens the door. He could almost feel how your attitude had shifted from before as he leaned against the doorframe. That smile that he had been enjoying was nowhere to be found, and he knew that laugh was going to be hard won. 
“Y/N…” 
You weren’t necessarily afraid of Wonwoo anymore. You weren’t even afraid or surprised by the situation; at this point, you were coming to terms with reality. Meeting his eyes, you feel the tears once again well up in your eyes as he frowns and shakes his head. 
“It’s fine, Wonwoo.” 
Moving on to the bed, Wonwoo reaches for your hand, trying to come up with the right words to explain things when you continue. 
“I know you didn’t want me to overhear it, but it really is okay. I know my father doesn’t give a shit about me. He didn’t care about my mother, so why would I be different?” Using your free hand to rub at your nose, you glance down at your hand in Wonwoo’s. “If I could just ask a favor or two?” 
Your words were breaking Wonwoo’s heart, but as you spoke, they felt necessary. Each word builds on one another, like an explanation of you, until you finally ask something of him. Humming softly to let you continue, Wonwoo swallows hard, reaching out with his free hand to push at your tears on your cheek with his thumb. 
“I don’t want to be in pain and could you make my death mean something? Make it a lesson for him? He’s going to get even richer from it, but that doesn’t mean—-”
Having heard enough, the implication of you asking him to make your death not painful, Wonwoo slides his hand along your cheek to cup your face. 
“Stop, Y/N… just—shh, please, princess?” 
Closing your eyes when Wonwoo stops you mid sentence, you lean into his touch, feeling his forehead rest against yours. You meant every word. You hated the idea of being overwhelmed with pain or fear at the moment of your death, just as much as you hated your father using your death for his own gain. You felt like those were valid wishes from a dead woman, but maybe they were too hard for the one who had to fulfill them. 
“I can’t listen to you talk like that. Fuck—” 
Wonwoo was a cold man on most days. He didn’t have many emotions and none that would be shared with most people, but today he felt tears collecting on the rims of his eyes. He couldn’t remember the last time he had cried or the last time his chest felt so heavy as he had someone in his hands. The feeling of your skin against his palm was better than anything he could imagine, and he knew he would do anything for you and do anything to keep you close to him in that moment. 
“I’m not going to kill you. I told you that. They don’t get to win. Baby… I—I mean, fuck, I told you that already.” 
Hearing “baby” slip off Wonwoo’s lips makes fresh tears slip down your cheeks. It was almost cruel the cards that the world was dealing you. In your mind, there was no way you’d be able to keep this man in front of you, so why were you once again being tortured by wanting him and his love? You were starting to understand him, or so you thought, and he wasn’t the type to keep people around or love them. 
Shaking your head, you try to lean back, wanting to make this separation easier on you and Wonwoo, but your fingers hold you to him. A sound of pain escapes Wonwoo’s lips as he slides along your arm and he shakes his head in return. 
“I’ll make you disappear; remember, I said I knew someone, and I’ll—” The words seem difficult and unplanned as Wonwoo leans back, his fingers once again trying to get rid of your tears as you meet his eyes. He looks desperate, almost like a different person—a man not willing to lose what’s in front of him. “I’ll disappear with you.” 
Wrapping your hands around Wonwoo’s wrists, you give him a confused look. There were so many questions on your mind because so many things about what he just said didn’t make sense to you. You didn’t understand how his friend could just make you disappear and go with you. 
“Why?” Now the same confusion was written on Wonwoo’s face as you asked the one word question, prompting you to speak again. “Why would you disappear with me, Wonwoo?” 
Swallowing hard, Wonwoo strokes his thumb along your cheek. That was a valid question. You had every right to ask that, and he should answer it. Furrowing his brows, Wonwoo licks his lips and glances down at yours before cursing under his breath. He knew the answer, it was just the most difficult thing he had ever admitted to another person in his life.
“I—shit, Y/N… it’s cause…” 
You watch Wonwoo struggle with his words, feeling his fingers move over your skin as his brows furrow, almost in pain at how hard he’s trying to manifest his sentence. What was so hard to say to you? Sighing, you start to pull away again when Wonwoo’s lips meet yours and you only whimper into the kiss. 
Wonwoo hopes the kiss will be enough to explain what he’s trying to say, but even as he deepens it and his tongue swipes along the seam of your lips, he knows it’s not. He can feel your hand grabbing at his bicep and the words bubble up in his throat, escaping on to your lips like a breath. 
“I love you.” 
Your eyes close tighter at Wonwoo’s words, the confession hitting you in the chest like a brick. You scratch at his arm under your fingers and let out a soft sob into the kiss, feeling him nod, almost understanding you without words. The tension in the room is thick and warm. It felt like a blanket in the middle of the summer, making you both feel like you were overheating. 
Laying you back on the bed, Wonwoo hovers over you, looking over your face, when he finally pulls back from the kiss. Your tears still flow freely from the corners of your eyes, causing him to swipe at them and shake his head, wishing he could will them away with a single word. 
“I do; I’m sorry—” 
Wrapping your hand into the front of Wonwoo’s t-shirt, pull him down hard to meet your lips, speaking against them as he starts to apologize for loving you. You silence him with your kiss, letting him settle between your thighs as you pull your knee up towards his hip. Wonwoo groans softly into your mouth, his brows finally relaxing, feeling you invite him closer to you. 
With your free hand, you run your fingers through Wonwoo's hair, arching your back as his fingers gather your dress at your hip. After nipping at your lips, he tilts back to look down at you, searching your eyes before staring at his hand as he exposes more of your skin. The air crackles with electric anticipation as desire intensifies between you and Wonwoo. Every touch and every glance fuels the growing fire within, leaving you both yearning for more, unable to resist the magnetic pull between your bodies. On an exhale, you let out a soft whine, walking your fingers along Wonwoo's jaw, your words coming out breathy and soft.
“Don’t apologize for saying that to me, Wonwoo.” 
Closing his eyes, Wonwoo turns his attention back towards you, leaning to press his lips against your wrist. He knew he had a lot to explain to you. There was a lot you didn’t understand, a lot of half truths he had told you. He didn’t wait anymore, not when he rested between your warm thighs and felt your fingers tighten on his shirt, keeping him close to you like you never wanted to lose him. He was afraid once you knew the full truth about him, you wouldn’t want him this close to you again. 
“Want you so fucking bad, princess.” 
Wonwoo’s words are quiet, his lips moving to press against your jaw as he lays his body against yours. You whine, finally letting go of his shirt in place of wrapping your arm around his waist so you can pull his shirt up his back. All that tension in the room feels like a fire burning around you when you hear him say those words out loud. 
Nodding, you lift your hips towards Wonwoo, feeling him smile against your skin before he furrows his brows and whines into a groan. Fingers slide under your dress, along your inner thigh, until finally Wonwoo finds what he was searching for. He can feel your warmth through your damp lace and it’s driving him crazy. 
Glancing up at you, Wonwoo watches your lips fall open as he uses his middle finger to press the lace between your folds. It doesn’t take more than a second for him to put pressure on your already throbbing clit, and you are wanting and needing more. 
“Please… please, more…” 
Wonwoo feels his cock twitch in at your breathy moans. Each new word on your lips—better than anything he had ever experienced. There was no other high that he could think of that could compare to the way his brain soared at such simple words slipping from between your pretty lips. He could feel himself becoming addicted to you with each breathy moan that he earned. 
He wanted to give you everything you wanted and more; it would be easy. He could move his fingers ever so slightly and have his fingers inside of you, but looking at your face, Wonwoo paused. Swallowing hard, Wonwoo puts his head down, kissing your collarbone in the process as you feel his fingers slide to your thigh. 
“Wha—Wonwoo?”
Reaching for his hand, trying to get him to go back to what he had been doing, you feel Wonwoo’s hand wrap around your wrist. Instead of letting you guide his hand, he lifts yours to his mouth, kissing your fingers as he meets yours eyes, giving you an apologetic look. 
“I do want you, baby... but I need to explain some things to you first. I need you to understand who you are letting touch you, so that if you don’t want—” 
Sliding up in the bed under Wonwoo, you cup his face, pressing your lips to his to silence him before he starts rambling. You weren’t stupid; you knew there were lies and obviously plenty weighing on his mind, but that didn’t stop you from wanting him. Meeting his eyes, you wait for him to speak, finally seeing some of the tension once again release from his face. 
“Earlier, uh, you called me Kim Wonwoo.” 
Nodding, you trace Wonwoo’s cheek as he settles on the bed in front of you. His hands slide over your legs, letting you adjust so that you are more comfortable. When you drape your leg over his, Wonwoo glances down at your exposed knee, tracing a small scar, trying to distract himself as he speaks. 
“That’s not my name. I mean, sort of. It’s Jeon Wonwoo.” 
Afraid to meet your eyes, Wonwoo draws shapes on your leg as he continues to explain his life to you. This is the only job he’s ever really known. He doesn’t explain how he got into it, but he’s hurt a lot of people and though he doesn’t say it, you understand he’s killed several people. 
“Did they deserve it?” 
The question makes Wonwoo’s throat feel like it’s closing up. That was the most difficult question he had ever been asked. This was why he didn’t have emotions or show them. You were bringing out his emotions and making his heart feel things that he hadn’t felt in decades. Watching Wonwoo lean his head back, you feel sorrow for the man in front of you. You want to fix his life, but then you remember how fucked up your own life is as he laughs sadly and shakes his head before shrugging. 
“I don’t know, babe. No, not all of them. I didn’t ask them about their morals.”
Shushing Wonwoo, you tilt his head back down to look at you as you lean to brush your lips over his again, feeling him melt under your touch and kiss. It should matter more to you about Wonwoo’s past and possibly his future, but you find that you are more concerned about how he feels about you. 
“Did I deserve it?” 
Grabbing your wrists, Wonwoo sits back, staring at you, before letting go of one hand to brush his fingers over your cheek. It was a painful question, but a fair one. You had every right to ask it and he needed to answer it no matter how much it hurt him to do it. 
“I thought you did at first. Made it easier to take you, to scare you.” Taking a breath, Wonwoo traces the shape of your ear with his fingers meeting your eyes. “But now I know you didn’t deserve any of this. I’m sorry, Y/N. If you wanna walk out that door, I’ll let you leave.” 
Wonwoo’s hand starts to drop from your face as he finishes what he needs to say. He looks defeated and certain you are going to not only kick him out of bed, but worse, you might actually want to leave. The moment his fingers drop from your jaw, you shake your head and move forward, hearing a soft, surprised gasp escape from Wonwoo’s lips when you put his back on the bed. Straddling his hips, you nudge your nose against his and tease him by brushing your lips like a whispered word along his, making him lean up to chase you before you speak. 
“I thought you said you’d disappear with me, Jeon Wonwoo?” 
His real name on your lips almost floors Wonwoo. His head resting back on the bed, Wonwoo nods, reaching up to once again cup your face with his hand as he mutters his promises. 
“I will, yes. I promise... as soon as we can.” 
Crashing your lips into his, you hear Wonwoo groan deeply at the feeling. The kiss is different, it’s almost sealing the promise and you both seem to realize that. Fingers once again slide under your dress so that Wonwoo can trace the curve of your ass as you sit down over his half hard cock trapped in his sweatpants. 
You were so warm even with his pants and your thin panties, and it was causing Wonwoo’s mind to malfunction. It had been a long time since he had let himself really enjoy sex and a woman’s body for more than just a carnal need. If this had been anyone else, it would be over in minutes without much more than a word said from either person. Everything about you had Wonwoo’s brain screaming to take his time and teach you he could be better. 
“Fuck… baby.” Groaning into something that sounds more like a whimper, Wonwoo rocks his hips up to meet yours, feeling you roll your hips over him. “Lay down, let me take care of you.” 
Smiling, you sit up, running your fingers over Wonwoo’s chest, feeling him take deep breaths under your touch. In the past, you would have agreed to something like that without question. You would be the first to admit that you were lazy in bed with other people, a bit of a pillow princess, but with Wonwoo, you wanted to be something different. He made you want to show him more, give him more. Show him he is worth more. He was worth the risk. 
Shaking your head, you slide down the length of his body, feeling Wonwoo’s eyes on you as he tells you to let him take over once again. He is silenced when your hot breath fans over the front of his sweatpants and his cock jerks almost violently in reaction. 
Pressing his head back against the bed, Wonwoo just nods, lifting his hips as your fingers press into the top of his sweatpants, working them down his thighs. Your eyes focus on his face, the way he bites at his bottom lip when his cock is exposed to the air and you for the first time. Finally looking down, you tilt your head and swallow hard, loud enough for Wonwoo to hear your reaction when your eyes move over his cock from base to tip. 
“You okay? Princess… I said, let me—” 
“Shhh, you are just so big, Wonwoo. It’s a compliment. Take off your shirt for me.” 
Your words go straight to Wonwoo’s head and make his face burn, the flush evident running from his neck to his cheeks as he lets out a slow breath. Dropping his pants into the floor, you keep your eyes on him, enjoying the view as he does as you ask, tugging his t-shirt over his head and tossing it across the room. 
Laying back reluctantly, he sits back up on his elbows as his cock leaks pre-cum against his abdomen, his eyes moving over you while you shift closer, running your hand along his thigh. 
“Baby—c’mon… Let me see you at least.” 
Smirking slightly, you work the sweater over your head as Wonwoo watches carefully. 
“I think you are being impatient.” 
Quietly laughing, Wonwoo reaches out to run his thumb along your knee, his eyes following your fingers as you work your dress up your body. 
“Maybe… but you are so fucking beautiful and you won’t let me touch you first. I was close before... you were begging me.” 
Humming in agreement with Wonwoo, you hand him your dress, watching him smile as he drops it on the floor with his clothes. His eyes stay focused on you as you reach behind your back to unclasp your bra, feeling it give way. 
“Maybe I want you to beg me instead.” 
Lifting his brow, Wonwoo takes a deep breath as your bra falls from your body. He knew you were perfect. There had been no doubt about that from the moment he first saw you as your bodyguard, but seeing you like this and feeling this way about you was a privilege. 
“I don’t beg for things, princess.” 
Tilting your head, you sit back on your ass between Wonwoo’s legs. With one leg on either side of his, you lift your hips, working your panties down. You hear his breath hitch as you lift one leg and then the other, slipping them off and letting them hang on your fingers before you offer them to him with a question in your eyes. 
“You don’t?” 
Reaching out to take your panties from you, Wonwoo scoffs when you pull them back just as his fingers graze them. He knows he could simply move and take them from you, but he knows what you want and you were making his mouth water. Licking his lips, Wonwoo tightens his jaw and meets your eyes, putting out his hand. 
“But I will for you. Please, baby? Don’t tease me.” 
Teasing Wonwoo was fun and it was powerful, but giving him something that he needed was just as rewarding. Smirking, you put your panties in Wonwoo’s hand, moving back to your knees as you watch him bring them to his nose, taking a deep breath of you. Only once he’s had his fill does he drop them next to the bed with the rest of the clothes and lick his lips, swallowing hard at the sight of you. 
"Sure, I can’t take care of you first?” 
Shaking your head, you listen to Wonwoo groan your name when your fingers wrap around his cock. He is heavy in your hand and you find yourself wanting that weight on your tongue. You want him to moan your name like that as you swallow as much of his cock as you can… so instead of answering him, you act on your desires. 
Falling back on the bed, Wonwoo curses loudly as your warm mouth wraps around him. Letting your mouth meet your hand, you moan around Wonwoo, sucking on his head as you pull back, only to sink back down over him without warning. It had been far too long since Wonwoo had been with someone even close to as determined as you in bed and that was becoming too evident as he struggled to keep himself from cumming too soon. 
“Bab—shit! Y/N… slow—ah, don’t wanna…” 
Pulling back from Wonwoo’s cock with a small popping sound, you feel his hips jerk under your hand as you continue to stroke him. Everything you had wanted from him was becoming a reality. You were dripping onto the bed under you from the sounds coming out of Wonwoo’s mouth and the taste of him on your tongue. 
Clinging to the bedding under him, Wonwoo groans loudly as you press your tongue against his slit. Not wanting to cum into your mouth, he reaches to grab at your hair, whining your name and pushing his ass against the bed, trying to get away from your mouth. 
“Wanna—please? Feels too good. Let me have you.” 
Meeting Wonwoo’s eyes again, you lick your lips, tasking the pre-cum smeared on them, listening to another groan slip from between his lips at the sight. You were going to be the death of him before he got his cock in you at this rate. 
Sitting back, you laugh when Wonwoo wastes no time turning over on the bed so he can get back between your thighs. With no lace between him and your pussy this time, he shakes his head and lets out a slow breath, lowering himself down to press kisses to your thighs before running his tongue through your wet folds. 
Wonwoo groans, his fingers gripping you tighter and pulling you closer to his mouth as he tastes you for the first time. Every worry disappears, along with every thought in his mind, as he focuses on you and nothing else. Wrapping his arm around your leg, Wonwoo adjusts himself on the bed, listening to your soft whimpering moans, driving him to make you feel even better. 
You could already feel yourself tightening around nothing as Wonwoo sucked around your clit, his fingers pushing your folds apart, giving him access to the sensitive bundle of nerves. You wanted and needed more. The desire to be full of him overwhelms your brain just as much as your impending orgasm. 
“Plea—Wonwoo…  your fingers. I need something inside of me.” 
You clearly had no idea how sexy your words were because, as soon as you spoke them, Wonwoo was trying not to thrust his hips into the mattress to find relief. Clawing at Wonwoo’s arm, you whimper his name doing your best to get what you want at your pace. Nodding, he groans, leaning back just enough to watch as he works a finger into you, feeling your tight walls suck him in. You weren’t even close to being able to handle his cock if he had to work for one finger. 
“Baby… relax.” 
Scoffing, you roll your hips down over Wonwoo’s finger as he nips at your folds, sending waves of pleasure through you. How did he expect you to relax with what was going on between your legs? Shooting him a contemptuous look, you watch as Wonwoo grins up at you before looking back at his fingers as he gently adds a second. 
“You’ve given me that look before, princess. Right before you told me you hoped I lost my job as your bodyguard.” 
Thrusting his fingers deep into you, Wonwoo watches you arch your back, a loud moan dripping off your lips like honey. There had been times before all of this, when he had been playing the part of your bodyguard when he had brief moments of weakness, picturing turning you over a surface and fucking some respect into you. If the man he was then could see him now. He imagined that man would not only be shocked at how much he had changed in such a short time, but he would probably be jealous. Who wouldn’t be jealous to see your cum dripping down his palm towards his wrist as he continued to fuck you with his fingers? 
“Yes, baby… Fuck—another one. Just like that. Cum all over my fingers; take another one.” 
A third finger slips into you and you practically scream in pleasure at how full you feel. The first orgasm had made your thighs start to shake, but the second one had come on so quickly after the first that you were crying. Tears drip from your cheeks as you push your hips down over Wonwoo’s fingers until you can’t take it anymore, the overstimulation making you close your legs around his hand. 
Giving you one more deep thrust of his fingers, Wonwoo presses his lips to your shin as he slowly and carefully slides his fingers from your warm, throbbing pussy. You were panting out your moans like a cat in heat and it was better than anything Wonwoo had ever seen or heard in his life. There was nothing staged that could measure up to you—no porn or even work of art that matched you. 
Running his hands along your knees, Wonwoo meets your eyes as he works your legs apart, feeling them shake under his touch. He knew you were still sensitive, but his cock was aching for you. Resting between your legs, Wonwoo furrows his brows, feeling your wet folds against his shaft as he rocks his hips towards you. One more questioning look, asking for permission, and getting a frantic nod from you is all it takes for him to ease himself into you. 
The feeling of Wonwoo inside of you is so much more than his fingers and it takes your breath away. Pressing your face against his neck, you gasp, feeling the stretch when he finally stops moving, his hips flush with yours. Closing his eyes, Wonwoo has to take a steady breath, feeling you clench around him, threatening to make him cum on the spot. 
“Baby, breathe… Is it too much?” 
Shaking your head, you cling to Wonwoo, afraid he will pull out and you’ll be empty again. You whine his name, leaning your head back onto the pillows, meeting his eyes. Searching your eyes for pain, Wonwoo lifts one of his hands to brush his thumb over your cheek as he waits patiently for you to adjust to him, though it takes every ounce of patience he has. 
“Okay, just tell—tell me when I can move.” 
Nodding quickly, you scratch at Wonwoo’s sides, hearing him hiss at the feeling. You were ready for him to move, but words were hard to form. You were finding it hard to think of anything other than him and the feeling of his cock buried so deep inside of you. Lifting your hips, you moan his name and Wonwoo groans, leaning to rest his forehead against yours. Warm breath fans across your lips as he nods and whispers, “Okay,” before moving slowly, not wanting to overwhelm you or himself too quickly. 
Squeezing your eyes shut tightly, more tears roll from your eyes to your temples at how good it feels to have Wonwoo inside of you. The way his cock stretches you so perfectly and how his head brushes over your spot each time pulls out enough to push right back into your warm walls. 
“Please, please, Wonwoo, baby... faster.” 
Your pleas come out as sobbing moans, causing Wonwoo to give you a concerned look, but as soon as he sees the fucked out look on your face, he can’t help but give you what you want. His thrusts become more urgent and harder. With each one, Wonwoo feels you get that much tighter around his cock until finally the coil inside you snaps. He had thought you were wet before but feeling your cum on his cock was an experience that Wonwoo knew he would never forget and it was enough to send him barreling over the edge after you. 
Resting his head against your neck, Wonwoo curses under his breath, feeling his cum seep out of you, mixing with yours. He was usually much more careful than this, but he had gotten lost in the moment. Shaking his head, Wonwoo carefully slides out of you and meets your eyes full of guilt, only to find you still full of bliss. 
“I didn’t even ask, baby. I’m sorry—” 
Sliding your hand along Wonwoo’s jaw to his neck, you shake your head and close your eyes. You knew what had happened and what could come of it, but that wasn’t something that you could concern yourself with today. Right now, you are just happy to be alive and in bed with Wonwoo. It was the first time in possibly your entire life that you were this happy and you wouldn’t let him spoil it with guilt. 
“Don’t... just tell me that you love me again.” 
Unable to stop his lips from pulling up in a smile, Wonwoo shakes his head at your reaction to the situation. Moving to lay beside you, knowing neither of you could stay like this for long without taking a shower, he pulls you into his arms and presses his lips against your neck. You smile, wrapping your arms around his. 
“I love you, Y/N.”  
“I love you too, Wonwoo.” 
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This was the longest you had seen Wonwoo sleep. Even as you ran your fingers delicately along the bridge of his nose, he barely flinched. A smile pulls at your lips at the sight and at how warm and safe you feel lying next to him as the sun rises. 
During the time that you had been awake, Wonwoo’s phone had gone off twice. You had a good feeling that the missed calls were from Park Bonhwa, but you couldn’t bear the thought of waking Wonwoo or checking his phone. There was a beautiful silence surrounding you both and not even that man could ruin it, as long as you didn’t let him. 
Tracing the dip of Wonwoo’s cupid’s bow, you watch as his lips twitch into a soft smile and his eyes slowly open. It was selfish of you to touch Wonwoo so much when he was sleeping so soundly, but seeing his eyes on you and feeling the comfort of them made it worth it. 
Pulling you into his arms, Wonwoo grunts softly at the feeling of your cold fingers sliding along his ribs. He could get used to this—waking up and seeing you first thing. He wanted to get used to it, but there were things that had to happen first. 
“Mm, morning, baby. “ 
Lips press against the top of your head and you find yourself nuzzling against Wonwoo’s chest, not wanting to face anything in the real world. You like the way his deep voice sounds when you are so close to his body, the way it seems to vibrate in his chest. Resting your ear against his chest, you smile and bite at your bottom lip, hearing Wonwoo laugh. 
“Don’t wanna get up?” 
Shaking your head, you whine, and Wonwoo runs his long fingers along your back, stopping to draw small circles along your spine before tracing each notch on his way up to your neck. He understood the sentiment and wanted to give you what you wanted. He wanted to give you everything you wanted now. 
“We need to talk about what comes next. Cheol is going to work on what we need for you to disappear, but he needs payment.” 
There was always a catch to everything. That was something that you understood from a very young age. Everything came with a price. Your father never let you think that money grew on trees. Despite knowing you were incredibly wealthy and that you could potentially have anything you wanted, he made you earn his respect before he would give you any allowance or credit cards. Your father’s respect had cost the most out of anything you had ever paid for in your life. You will never forget the day you told your mother that you loved your father more than her and watched her face fall. 
“Mmkay, how much money does he need?” 
Wonwoo shakes his head at the mention of money. Of course your mind would go to money first; that was how your father had probably raised you. It wasn’t your fault that you were the way you were; Wonwoo understood that now. You were broken because you were carefully shattered piece by piece by your father over the course of your life. 
“Not money, baby. Information. Trust me, this will be good for everyone in the end.” Smirking, Wonwoo lifts his hand from your back to scratch at his eyebrow as he scoffs at his own words, correcting them. “Almost everyone.” 
Information was a currency you were familiar with; it just wasn’t something you commonly used. You have seen your father get rich off information plenty of times. Leaning your head back, you glance up at Wonwoo, furrowing your brows as he lifts his hand to brush his fingers over your cheek. 
“About my father?”
The next couple of hours you spend against Wonwoo go through what you know about your father’s company. You tell him more about the business dinners and dates that he has set up for you over the years and though Wonwoo listens carefully, he seethes. Every new piece of information he leaves about your father makes him hate the man even more. 
It’s when you get to your mother that you find it more difficult to talk with confidence. You find strength in Wonwoo’s touch, his hands gliding over your skin as his lips press to your forehead, taking in each word. Your sorrow at losing the one person who meant something to you, becomes Wonwoo’s sorrow when tears drip from your cheek onto his chest. 
“Baby… I know this is too much. I’m sorry, we can talk more about the business side—”
“It’s okay. It’s his fault.” Rubbing your nose hard, you pull your legs under you, letting Wonwoo tuck you into his side. “I don’t know how, but I just know it is. She didn’t just die.” 
There is no doubt in Wonwoo’s mind that you are right about your assumption. With as much life insurance that your father had placed on you, he could only imagine the amount he would put on a spouse. 
“He kept reminding me after her funeral that I loved him more. He kept giving me gifts and all this money…” 
Leaning his head back against the headboard, Wonwoo tries to picture you mourning and your brute of a father wooing you out of it with possessions. The cold woman who had treated her staff like trash was just a reflection of him. 
“He’ll pay for that, Y/N. I promise.” 
You nod along with Wonwoo’s words, though you don’t understand how he plans on making that happen. In your eyes, your father was bulletproof. He was a cliff face that you kept hitting as the waves pushed you around like you were nothing. 
Tracing the shape of your bottom lip as you rest against his shoulder, Wonwoo furrows his brows, feeling concern wash over him. You had talked until you couldn’t anymore. Exhaustion had taken over you and not even having him next to you or food in your stomach was enough to keep your eyes open any longer. You looked calm like this—breathing softly against his bare skin—even as you squeezed your eyes shut a bit tighter in your sleep. 
Wonwoo carefully slides his arm from under you, letting your cheek rest against his palm as he adjusts the pillow under your head. Now you look comfortable. He hated the idea of not having you in his arms, but there was much left to do. Giving you one more glance as he swipes his phone from the nightstand, Wonwoo opens the bedroom door and closes it before making his way downstairs. 
Seungcheol was trying not to get antsy about his current situation, but the minutes were ticking by and it didn’t seem like you or Wonwoo were in a rush. So when he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket, the detective lets out a sigh of relief, leaning against his car. 
“I won’t lie, I had a few moments today when I thought you might be fucking me over.” 
Smirking at Seungcheol’s words, Wonwoo uses his index finger to pull the blinds ever so slightly from the window so he can check the street out of habit. 
“Just when we were starting to like one another?” 
Getting behind the wheel of the Audi, Seungcheol scoffs and presses the button to start his car. The sooner he could be away from the station, the better, especially if this conversation was going to go where he imagined it to. Hearing the sound of the engine as Seungcheol wastes no time in pulling out of the parking garage, Wonwoo shakes his head, dropping the blinds back in place and lowering himself into a nearby armchair. 
“I needed time to talk to Y/N. She’s the one with the most information, and she had plenty. Like I said, Cheol… you’ll get a promotion out of this.” 
Seungcheol can’t stop himself from taking a deep breath in anticipation. If the information was as good as Wonwoo was alluding to, this could be the best decision he has ever made. 
“I’m listening.” 
“And I have terms.” 
Of course he did. The good feeling that Seungcheol had for a fleeting moment sank right back into his chest with Wonwoo’s words. Leaning his head back against the leather headrest, Seungcheol tightens his grip on the steering wheel and narrows his eyes as he speaks. 
“Again, I’m listening.” 
Tilting his head, Wonwoo bites at his cheek out of a mixture of nerves and frustration. He knew that Seungcheol would be happy with what he had to tell him, but he had to make sure that you were taken care of. On top of that, he hadn’t known that he wanted to leave with you; that was a possible kink in the plan as far as Seungcheol might be concerned. 
“New name, meaning all IDs.” Seungcheol groans in annoyance at Wonwoo’s request; it was what he had assumed, but as soon as he starts to speak, he is cut off and rendered speechless. “For both of us.” 
“I—” 
Picking at a loose string on the chair, Wonwoo listens to Seungcheol struggle to make heads or tails of what he had just asked of him before he continues. 
“Money; we both know she can’t keep her accounts. We will need a safe flight out of Korea.” 
With his head spinning at all Wonwoo was asking of him, Seungcheol pulls his car over, putting it in park, before letting out an unamused laugh. 
“I—well fuck… anything else? Would you like for me to make her the Queen of England while I’m at it?” The amusement fades from his voice as he smacks at his dashboard. “Why are you asking for impossible things? How in the hell am I going to get you out of Korea?” 
“Figure it out, Seungcheol! Or are you not interested in bringing down her piece of shit father?” 
Throwing up his hands, Seungcheol scoffs in disbelief, unsure what could be worth giving up, Jeon Wonwoo. 
“For what? Some shady trading? The insurance policy? Give me something better than that or I’m gonna bring both of your asses in.” 
“Embezzlement, laundering, and possible murder.” 
Every snide comment and scoff that Seungcheol has been giving Wonwoo stops when he hears those words. 
“If—can she prove it?” 
Looking down at his hands, Wonwoo digs his nail into his thumb, feeling frustrated with Seungcheol and the entire situation. You shouldn't have to prove anything. It was practically being laid out for him, but he understood that some horses had to be led to water. 
“Y/N said there is a lawyer, Son Hyunwoo. Pay him enough and he’ll spill everything.” 
Typing the name into his phone and keeping Wonwoo on speaker in his car, Seungcheol nods, looking over the practice that Son Hyunwoo belongs to and some of his more prevalent clients. To the general public, his client list looked like a billboard for great service and reliability, but to a good detective, it screamed corruption. 
“This is good. If he talks, I’ll get you what you need. I’ll be in touch.” 
Wonwoo runs his fingers through his hair, taking a deep breath when the phone disconnects. He hoped for your sake, more than his own, that you were right. 
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— Two Days Later —
Bonhwa glares at his phone, seeing Wonwoo’s name. The man had been avoiding him like it was his job and now, just as he was about to have the dogs on his heels, he decided it was a good time to call. Gritting his teeth, Bonhwa answers his phone while pushing the heel of his hand under his nose to clean the white powder from it with a loud sniff. 
“Wanna make this easier on everyone by bringing her to my office? I promise I won’t kill you; just break something.” 
Rolling his eyes, Wonwoo had already prepared for Park Bonhwa’s empty threats. He wasn’t afraid of him anymore than he was afraid of a dog without teeth. He knew that Bonhwa couldn’t find him, which means he couldn’t find you. With time, if the two of you stayed in Seoul, he might get a sniff on a trail, but that wasn’t happening. 
“I’ve been busy. Why are you so fuckin’ grumpy?” 
Watching Seungcheol load a suitcase into the trunk of the car as he talks to you, Wonwoo furrows his brows, hearing Bonhwa’s voice go up an octave. He knew he was pushing his buttons, but he had a reason. There was always a reason behind what Wonwoo did. 
“Why—why am I? You stupid son of a bitch! Half! I get half when I deliver proof of that bitch’s body to Hyong. Do you know how humiliating—” 
Hearing Wonwoo sigh, Bonhwa stops mid sentence to stare at the desk in front of him. He had half a mind to get in his car right now and search the entire city for Jeon Wonwoo. Feeling his phone vibrate in his hand, he furrows his brow and lets out a disgruntled sound, ready to continue telling Wonwoo off when Wonwoo speaks first. 
“Check your email. It’s done… makes no fucking sense to drive around with a body.” 
Your eyes follow Wonwoo as he paces talking to Bonhwa, you barely hear Seungcheol talking to you. Noticing you aren’t understanding what he’s telling you, the man steps in front of you, obscuring your view. 
“Can we finish our conversation now, Y/N? He’s fine. He’s taking care of what he needs to, so let’s go over the rest of this shit.” 
You weren’t sure how you felt about Choi Seungcheol. You could see why he had been the one who had gotten close to Wonwoo, he was tenacious and abrasive. Nodding, you watch as Seungcheol lifts his brows and leans to take a folder out of his car, showing it to you. 
“ID, passport, some cash... Wonwoo knows how to get more when it’s needed. This won’t be like the pampered life you had before, so—” 
“You don’t know anything about me, Seungcheol.” 
In the short time that he had known you, Seungcheol had heard you speak a handful of times. You had to let Wonwoo speak for you or at least let him carry the conversations. To say that he perhaps had a skewed view of you based on what he knew about your father and researching you, would be an understatement. 
“Maybe not, but I’m just saying... make it last. Keep your mouth shut.” 
Holding out your hand for the folder, you lock eyes with Seungcheol as he places it in yours. 
“I’m not stupid.” 
A smirk pulls at one side of the detective’s lips at your words. That he did know. There was no way Wonwoo would put this much effort into keeping you alive if you were. Letting go of the folder, Seungcheol takes a step back and glances back to Wonwoo as he grunts, bending the phone in his hand with some effort. The screen shatters first and then the metal gives way, effectively destroying the device before he tosses it towards the river, listening to the dull thud when it hits the surface. 
“That bullshit is done. He’s satisfied with what you came up with.” 
Scoffing, Seungcheol shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, feeling a bit offended at the insinuation that anyone wouldn’t be satisfied with his work. He had gone above and beyond for this. You had been lucky that the information you had provided for him had been the best he had received in a long time. It had served as motivation for what Seungcheol saw as a work of art. 
“Yeah? Well maybe you should have dealt with pulling a Jane Doe out of the morgue.” 
Wonwoo exhales an unamused laugh, sliding his hand around your waist. He knew that Seungcheol had worked hard and he appreciated it. He could almost taste freedom and it was a strange sensation. 
“No thanks. I’ll leave that to the professionals.” Leaning to kiss the side of your head, Wonwoo gives you a once over before glancing back at the car, seeing it packed. “Ready to go?” 
You had no idea where you and Wonwoo were going. He and Seungcheol told you that in case things went south, it was better for you to know less. While you understood that, it still made leaving your entire life behind even more terrifying. Still, as you meet Wonwoo’s eyes, seeing that reassuring look in them, you manage to nod. 
“Perfect, can’t wait to get you both out of my hair.” 
Wonwoo grins at Seungcheol’s words, knowing that while he was trying to crack a joke, there was a layer of truth to them, especially concerning himself. 
“Don’t worry, Cheol. We won’t darken your doorstep again.” 
Taking a step backwards, towards his own car, Seungcheol points at Wonwoo as he speaks. 
“I’ll fuckin’ hold you to it. Show your face around here again and I’ll throw your ass in a cell.” 
Shaking his head, Wonwoo turns his attention back to you, reaching to open the passenger's side door. He lets you sit down as he looks down at you, much like he did a week ago under much different circumstances. 
“Where are we going, Wonwoo?” 
You watch curiously as he tilts his head and purses his lips, trying to think of how to tell you the answer without actually answering it. 
“Did you pack a bikini?” 
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runningatypufullspeed · 9 months ago
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WAIT FUCK I DIDNT KNOW THE AUTHOR OF THIS BOOK SUPPORTED AI AND HAD THAT WHOLE NOT SUPPORTING PALESTINE THING GOING ON well okay maybe I suspected the ai part because of the whole glorification of the thunderhead in all his books BUT I DIDNT KNOW ABOUT PALESTINE WHAT THEFUCK HAD I KNOWN. WOULDNT HAVE POSTED THIS EWWWWW EW
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Sketch for a school assignment
#NOT SAYING I HATE PEOPLE WHO LIKE ARC OF A SCYTHE BTW BE FREE TO LIKE WHAT YOU LIKE#BUT LIKE WHAT THE FUCK. WHATE THE FUCK WHAT THE FCUK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK#should I delete this drawing WHAT THE FUCK#I HATE THE THUNDERHEAD BTW. I DONT CARE IF ITS A GOOD CHARACTER I DONT CARE IF ITS NICE AND SHIT THE THING THAT IT REPRESENTS#THE THING THAT THE THUNDERHEAD STANDS FOR. AI REPLACING PEOPLE AND WORKERS SO THAT IT CAN DO ALL THE EMOTIONING AND WORK FOR THEM?? NOO THAN#NO THANK YOU. NO THANKS. THAT IS SO WEIRD#like it would be a different story if the dystopia aspect of this book centered around how ai bolstered an environment where#people collectively began losing their touch with humanity because there was this fucking machine doing all the thinking for them#but INSTEAD it’s just. THE GOOD GUY? I DONT GET IT#LIKE SCYTHES PROBABLY WOUDLNT EVEN BE A THING IF THE THUNDERHEAD HADNT EMERGED OUTTA THE DUST#like the bo9 puts a MUCH heavier focus on the fact that killing people is barbaric which is. yeah#yeah that’s fucking right? thanks for telling us? gold star for you?#but it COMPLETELY glosses over the fact that THE THUNDERHEAD. IS MOSTLY TO BLAME.#PEOPLE DONT BECOME BARABRIC OVERNIGHT DAWG#LIKE. HAD PEOPLE’S EMOTIONS/JOBS NOT BEEN COMPLETELY REPLACED BY AI#Scythes would probably NEVER even be a THING in that universe because PEOPLE WOUNLD BE ABLE TO RECOGNIZE#HOW FUCKED UP THAT IS. THEYD BE ABLE TO THINK FOR THEMSELVES INSTEAD OF THE STUPID AI THINKING FOR THEM#YOU GET WHAT IM SAYING?? LIKE WE SHOULD BE TEARINGDOWN THE THUNDERHEAD#INSTEAD OF JUST SAYING ‘’oh yeah killing is bad. corruption. bad’’#and THE N there’s the entire issue I have with one of the main messages that shusterman is so obsessed with being that like#people are inherently evil. which is. no. no they are not. no#COLONIZER STANCE!! COLOOONIZER!! WHITE PERSON!! KNIVES FROM TRIGUN. WRONG!#SORRY I’m just. I’m very distraught right now#cough#anyway lemme know ut thoughts if u have any I’m open to discussion#ALSO MAJOR APOLOLGIES. if I come off super strong I am so tired#ALSO ALSO I HAVE READ ALL BOOKS UP UNTIL THE TOLL. but it was kind of a long time ago so I may be getting some details wrong#but anyway. I think my stance still has some merit. I’m thinking very hard about the ending to the toll right now. I DO NOT LIKE AI#SORRY GUYS BACK TO F451 POSTING
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