#and to those making new goddamn tags

[icequeen-07]

*checks the quarry tag for the first time in months*

*screaming and hellfire*

[shithowdy]

realized a drawing i'm doing rn is almost identically posed to one i did 8.5 years ago of a different oc, except the old drawing was instantly tainted by one of the players featured messaging me asking if i could take it down because their abusive, possessive rp partner saw it and got jealous of them "roleplaying behind their back" and i said "nah" and it became a whole Thing that i should have walked away from at that exact moment but didn't and the 6 months that followed contained some of the most truly condensed batshit i have ever witnessed in an rp community already well-known for its batshittery.

... anyway i love my friends. so happy to accidentally redeem the pose.

[cryptvokeeper]

I dare not speak it in the tag because I value my energy but no one has the correct opinions about nosferatu 2024 except for me

[coconut530]

DRAGON PRINCE S7 DAYYYYYY

[whileyoureinschoolidothisallday]

HAVING THE MOST "FUCK IT WE'LL DO IT LIVE" LATE YULE OF MY LIFE!!!!!!!!!!

[crowcussion]

omg NAUSEA WTF

[astralazuli]

So there's that D&D class quiz going around, & I took it & was so deeply offended I got Paladin.

& so I have had conversations with both Bestie & Birdfriend about this grave insult & they both were like, "Well... They have a point?" & informed me that my desire to absorb hits meant for others & deep drive to help whenever I actually can & strong convictions make me a bit Paladin-coded.

& I am just so... Idk. It's just interesting to get glimpses of yourself from other people's POVs. To be told that my defining characteristics are protecting & healing others & being incredibly fighty about the things I care about... Especially as someone whose brain specifically fixates on whether I care enough, do enough, give enough... Yeah. It's just kinda wild.

Anyway, I'm now adjusting my self-perception to include the fact that if I were a D&D character, I would be an Oath of the Ancients Paladin & not a wizard & that actually that's okay.

[crossbackpoke-check]

what are ur thoughts on the winners room trope?

ooooo okay surface level analysis: i like winner’s room fics :)

etwas tieferes: i think it’s cool that it’s (afaik) unique to hockey fandom and i enjoy the way it integrates a lot of unspoken rules in hockey with desire/makes them a physical/tangible reality… also the narrative potentials/world-building it opens up can be fun because there’s not really a set of rules for the “winner’s room” trope. are there in-universe rules? who gets chosen? who’s exempt? who gets to pick? where’s it going down? is it the entire room or one guy? what if your (ex)boyfriend is on another team? does somebody need to be taught a lesson or do you need to remind someone who got traded you still love them? also, most important, winner’s room gives you the chance to put two random-ass guys you saw interact for 0.002 seconds and went “hmmm. interesting” about into a Situation and i love that

[rqnarok]

summary: old man!logan finds himself having a breeding kink.

cws/tags: smut, mdni! old man!logan. fem!reader. heavy breeding kink. dom/sub dynamics. unprotected p in v. pet names. not proofread. 

Logan’s younger self would not approve of this idea. 

Hell, it would not even cross his youthful, unbound, and liberated version. Younger Logan would have brushed off the idea - dodging it like a bullet - revolting against it. 

Having a kid? A noisy five-year-old child running around the house, screaming and kicking everything in sight? Yeah, fuck no. 

He’d even hate just thinking about it. 

But now that years have gone by and he’s almost hitting 200 years of age–a lot has changed in how he sees things, alright. Suddenly he’s not that idealistic-insufferable-annoying fuck anymore.

The heavy feels of his own body, his poor visions, his utter tiredness and wounds are slowly tended by settling down with you. Living in a small countryside home just outside Texas is the life Logan needed all along.

So he just can’t fucking help it when he sees how you act with those children at the Barbeque party. How you treat them with such care as if they’re yours. 

The smile plastered on your face after you give each one of them a cookie is Heaven sent for Logan. He’s too focused on being mesmerized by your acts that he almost does not realize how his trousers feel tighter.

He quickly hides his bulge whilst embarrassed of himself, thinking ‘M fuckin’ old for this shit. But who gives a fuck anyway? 

Oh, he in the past would not approve of this at all. 

“Fuck. You’d look so fuckin’ good with y’r belly swollen with my child.” Logan grunts out, thrusting his girth into you as his mind fills up with visions of you carrying his child. 

The images themselves make Logan go feral—growling when he feels how your velvet walls manage to clench around him.

“A-ah! Please!” The high-pitched noise you let out is almost humiliating as you bounce yourself on top of your husband, making the head hit your gummy spot every time you fall down.

“Hm? Y’want that, Little Missy? Want me t’give you a baby?” His calloused fingers rub shapes on your sticky skin, guiding your hips as he tries to search for the answer in your eyes.

You reply with a frantic nod, your mind feels empty as his tip deliciously kisses your cervix. The thought of being full of his seed, pregnant and giving him a baby—makes your eyes roll back in pleasure.

With one movement, Logan manages to manhandle you to a new position, his cock never slips out from your heat, “Want this old man t’give you one? Make you a momma?” 

The sound of his full balls slapping against your ass makes you squeeze your eyes shut. 

Now clearly hearing the obscene moans emitting through the dim room, “Yeahyeahyea—W-wanna be a momma—”

While you wonder how he still has this much stamina at that age, Logan leans down to your ear and buries his face on your neck, “Pretty wife. Gonna make the cutest goddamn babies, y’know tha’?” 

His palms hold your thighs spread open to reach deeper inside you, “Let me fill ya’ up real good.”

Logan’s eyes flicker to watch your pussy swallow his cock in and out. The sight alone makes him throw his head and let guilt wash him over for a minute.

He feels perverted—corrupting you by plugging his cock to the hilt as if it is trying to mold your insides. A dilemma growing.

You could feel how his thrusts steadily became desperate, “L-Lo.” Whining out, your fingers crawl into his back to pull him tighter. 

He can’t fucking wait to have you round up. Shit. You’d be so dependent on him—need him at all times. And he’d fulfill everything you ask him to do. Logan would never even let you move an inch. 

Everything caught up to him as an acute wave, “F-Fuck. There ya’ go, baby.” Logan mutters - his hands shake slightly as they lose their grip on your thighs. 

His cock never pulling out, “D’ya think it takes, pretty?” You could feel him deep inside you—how your walls are painted by his thick ropes of cum. 

Logan gives lazy circles of his hips before pressing a sweet kiss on your lips, whispering several ‘I love you’s’ before lowering himself so his face could level with your pussy.  

“Fuck.” The older man has never seen a far more beautiful sight than this. Watching his cum begin to leak out of you makes his cock twitches again. 

The scruffy feel of his beard scratches your inner thighs as he leans closer—dragging the tips of his fingers along your folds before plugging his digits back inside. 

“Logan-n!” 

A deep rumble comes out of Logan, “Shh. Be a good girl for your husband, yeah? Need’a to make sure it takes.”

[caparrucia]

Full offense and pun fully intended, but I genuinely think the very existence of "dead dove, do not eat" was a fucking canary in the mines, and no one really paid attention.

Because the tag itself was created as a response to a fandom-wide tendency to disregard warnings and assume tagging was exaggerated. And then the same fucking idiots reading those tags describing things they found upsetting or disturbing or just not to their taste would STILL click into the stories and give the writer's grief about it.

And as a response writers began using the tag to signal "no, really, I MEAN the tags!"

But like.

If you really think about it, that's a solution to a different problem. The solution to "I know you tagged your story appropriately but I chose to disregard the tags and warnings by reading it anyway, even though I knew it would upset me, so now I'm upset and making it your problem" is frankly a block, a ban and wide-spread blacklisting. But fandom as a whole is fucking awful at handling bad faith, insidious arguments that appeal to community inclusion and weaponize the fact most people participating in fandom want to share the space with others, as opposed to hurting people.

So instead of upfront ridiculing this kind of maladaptive attempt to foster one's own emotional self-regulation onto random strangers on the internet, fandom compromised and came up with a redundant tag in a good faith attempt to address an imaginary nuance.

There is no nuance to this.

A writer's job is to tag their work correctly. It's not to tag it exhaustively. It's not even to tag it extensively. A writer's sole obligation, as far as AO3 and arguably fandom spaces are concerned, is to make damn sure that the tags they put on their story actually match whatever is going on in that story.

That's it.

That's all.

"But what if I don't want to read X?" Well, you don't read fic that's tagged X.

"But what if I read something that wasn't tagged X?" Well, that's very unfortunate for you, but if it is genuinely that upsetting, you have a responsibility to yourself to only browse things explicitly tagged to not include X.

"But that's not a lot of fic!" Hi, you must be new here, yes, welcome to fandom. Most of our spaces are built explicitly as a reaction to There's Not Enough Of The Thing I Want, both in canon and fandom.

"But there are things on the internet that I don't like!" Yeah, and they are also out there, offline. And, here's the thing, things existing even though we personally dislike or even hate or even flat out find offensive/gross/immoral/unspeakable existing is the price we pay to secure our right to exist as individuals and creators, regardless of who finds US personally unpleasant, hateful or flat out offensive/gross/immoral/unspeakable.

"But what about [illegal thing]?!" So the thing itself is illegal, because the thing itself has been deemed harmful. But your goddamn cop-poisoned authoritarian little heart needs to learn that sometimes things are illegal that aren't harmful, and defaulting to "but illegal!" is a surefire way to end up on the wrong side of the fascism pop quiz. You're not a figure of authority and the more you demand to control and exercise authority by command, rather than leadership, the less impressive you seem. You know how you make actual, genuine change in a community? You center harm and argue in good faith to find accommodations and spread awareness of real, actual problems.

But let's play your game. Let's pretend we're all brainwashed cop-abiding little cogs that do not own a single working brain cell to exercise critical thinking with. 99% of the time, when you cry about any given thing "being illegal!!!" you're correct only so far as the THING itself being illegal. The act or object is illegal. Depiction of it is not. You know why, dipshit? Because if depiction of the thing were illegal, you wouldn't be able to talk about it. You wouldn't be able to educate about it. You wouldn't be able to reexamine and discuss and understand the thing, how and why and where it happens and how to prevent it. And yeah, depiction being legal opens the door for people to make depictions that are in bad taste or probably not appropriate. Sure. But that's the price we pay, creating tools to demystify some of the most horrific things in the world and support the people who've survived them. The net good of those tools existing outweighs the harm of people misusing them.

"You're defending the indefensible!" No, you're clumsily stumbling into a conversation that's been going on for centuries, with your elementary school understanding of morality and your bone-deep police state rot filtering your perception of reality, and insisting you figured it out and everyone else at the table is an idiot for not agreeing with you. Shut the fuck up, sit the fuck down and read a goddamn book.

[sweetinsaniiity]

Sore And Sick

► 𝙿����𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 - blackmail!owner!Hongjoong x shoplifter!reader◄ ► 𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎/𝙰𝚄 - blackmailing trope, shoplifting au, 98% smut, crime, reader has kleptomaniac! tendencies, caught red-handed, blasphemy, mentions of therapy and roleplay, mafia? (can't resist with the new MV teehee), aftercare, fluff, sweet!but!psycho!Hongjoong agenda, actually sweet!Joong, plot twist ◄ ► 𝚁𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐/𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 - PG-18+ so MDNI!!!, CNC (dubcon), but I promise it's !conensual, softdom!Hongjoong, sexual petnames, blackmail for !sex, punish fuck, rough sex, bigdick!Joong ftw, cursing, daddy kink, manhandling, oral sex/fingering while on the phone, sneaky sex, semi-public, slight resistance, doggy, missionary, protection (at first,), removal of condom, creampie, no protection (DO NOT DO THIS!!!!), night terrors, mentions of guns and drugs (NOT TOWARDS YOU)◄ ► 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 - 13K+ words (this is the shortest fic I've done) ◄ ► 𝚂𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 - Your sleight of hand gets you in trouble one day when you are caught stealing red-handed by the owner of the store you tried theft at.◄ ► 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 - This isn't my usual thing. I've always preferred plot-driven fics and I always prefer being the reader of smut rather than writing it. This is more of a filler until I publish my next one. Enjoy! Title from Motionless In White. ◄ ► 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 - @0rangemilk @ginger-mingi @ruubyrubes @oddracha @jaytheatiny @roxannecos @juicy-red @cheolliehugs (message me because I can't tag y'all) ◄ ► 𝙽𝚎𝚝s - @cultofdionysusnet @wonderlandnet @othersideoutlawsnetwork @whipped-kpop-creators @illusionnet @pirateeznet ◄

You had no idea when it started, but when it did, you just never knew how to stop. But you did remember how.

A small tug on the corner of your lips painted your face as you looked around conspicuously left and right to see if someone was watching. When you deemed the coast clear, you discreetly pocketed the small bag of chips.

How it didn't make a sound, you had no idea, but goddamn, it was more nerve-wracking than you thought it was.

At that time you didn't know what hit you and admittedly, you were a bit tipsy when it first happened. Company dinner. Go figure.

You always craved something extremely salty after you drink anything. Unfortunately for you - or maybe not - you were a lightweight; born to be one, unwillingly so.

The next time you did it again, you were stone-cold sober. This time, it was the makeup section of this department store. They were the high-end ones designed to lure in the arrogant elitists whose hobby was to throw money at the expense of overconsumption.

Ha! You're no different. That statement always rang in your head, and deep down your soul, you knew it was true. 

Your haul became bigger and bigger - literally and figuratively. You were able to get away with thousands of dollars of merchandise. You knew it was wrong, some poor employee was probably paying for it with their minimum wage salary.

So you tried to stop, but for the life of you, you just couldn't. When you were close to getting caught, all you had to do was bat your lashes and play the needy damsel in distress act, and then you were gone.

It became an addiction.

At first, you justified it by convincing yourself that you were 'saving' money, but slowly, it was the addicting feeling of getting away with something; the rush and the confidence that builds every single damn success.

And by God, that power was sweet.

Most of the things you swiped weren't even things you needed, heck, most of them never saw the light of day ever again afterwards.

The same department store was almost empty when you walked in through one of those automatic doors that opened when you got in front of it. You mentally rolled your eyes, because of course, it did.

"Hi," you greeted the first employee you saw with the brightest smile. "Would you happen to know where the women's clothes are?"

The way she smiled at you with a welcoming gesture almost made your stomach churn out of guilt from what you were about to do. Almost. 

"Right this way," she started to put her foot forward to lead you, but you quickly stopped her.

"No! No, please," you halted her, a little jumpier than you intended. You sheepishly offered her a small smile. "I would like to do it myself, if it's okay. Relaxation time, you know what I mean?"

Her mouth formed an O-shape and her face lit up in understanding. It took a lot in you not to sigh in relief in front of her. You opted to do it the moment you hit your next stop.

The moment you hit the aisles, the smirk on your lips didn't hold back. This was a gold mine for people like you - but hey, nobody was perfect. Everyone had their vices, yours just didn't involve illegal substances or the spirits in bottles, is all.

There were already pieces that caught your eye. You had a plan, something you've never tried before, but there's a first time for everything. However, all it took was that one bastard who was at the wrong place at the wrong time.

You've been doing this for some time now, there was absolutely no way you were getting caught now. Losing wasn't part of your vocabulary. The game would be over by then and the fun would die.

Your brows widened when your hand hit a piece of fabric you weren't expecting. It was smooth, a contrast to all the silks you've had contact with.

You whistled when you took it out. It was a ruffled mini skirt, the classic type, the type that will compliment every body type. It was sure to turn heads towards your legs. And you wanted it.

If there was one thing about you, if you want it, then it's already yours.

With your usual glance to the left and on your right, you discreetly turned around away from the cameras and unzipped your jacket, bundling the skirt into a small ball and trying to tuck it inside.

You did that multiple times with more things and as people started to flock everywhere, you knew that you had to go.

Just one more thing and you will leave. As you made your way to the lingerie station, you envisioned which one you'd want to wear tonight as you celebrated yet again another success.

"Hmm," you hummed in concentration as you picked underwear after underwear whether they were slutty enough or just enough. "These suck."

In the end, you settled for this beautiful red, velvet teddy that was sure to hug every curve on your body. You couldn't help but giggle as you imagined yourself laying in bed with a glass of wine in hand.

Having no more space anywhere else, you opted to put it inside your purse. It was big enough to fit it. There was a rush in your veins, the sound of your purse zipper thrumming along with your excitement.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

You froze, in fact, everything froze, but the most remarkable thing was the beating of your heart. The way it stuttered out of beat, that terrified you more than the voice who had interrupted you.

You had hoped that it was just a passing customer or employee as you turned around. You could just put on your best charm, but you cursed under your breath when it wasn’t.

"It's not what you think," you blurted out, feeling dumb. Sue me, you thought. You had never been in a situation like this before.

The security guard squinted his eyes and tilted his head. "Sure doesn't look like it." 

He pointed at a certain corner of the clothing racks, and you significantly paled at the small, distinct, beeping light that signified a hidden camera. "He's been watching," he murmured, uninterested.

"Who is?"

"Who else? The owner."

There was a first time for everything, indeed. This was the first time you got caught, and for the first time, there was no getting away with it.

Fuck, you internally cursed. Where did you go wrong? 

You had never been more frightened than you were at that moment, especially when a large hand started pulling on your arm and started leading you somewhere.

"W-Where are you taking me? I didn't consent to this," you frowned.

Cold sweat started seeping out of your pores when the security guard's darted towards you. "The owner will want an explanation as to why you're shoplifting," he clicked his tongue. "He's not a particularly easy man to deal with so I would behave, really."

For a split second, you thought about struggling. You can't afford to go to jail for this, it would ruin your record. Another thing was that this man was jacked. Easily a hundred kilos of pure muscle.

You were pulled away, anyway, from the lingerie aisle to God-knows-where and you had to admit to yourself, this wasn't the dopamine rush you were looking for - this was the fear of the aftermath of what you've done.

It was what you would consider the walk of shame. The shame and embarrassment you felt each step you took felt worse than what would happen to you?

Would you go to jail? That was your worst option, it would ruin the little reputation that you have. Perhaps, you can bribe the owner? Nah. A person who owns an establishment like this had no need for the spare change you were going to offer.

A feeling of nausea suddenly overcame you as the security guard pushed the double doors that led to what you could only assume were the security rooms open.

"I got a little thief here," the security guard holding my arms smirks as he shoves me forward, rattling you and all the merchandise you tried to fit into your purse.

The sight that greeted you wasn't something that should've bothered you. It looked like a regular room, minus all the equipment and the cameras and monitors.

Your heart sank. They saw you doing what you were doing, most likely waiting until you got far enough where it would be considered robbery rather than petty theft.

"I'll deal with her. Call Jongho for me real quick."

The pit in your stomach was getting bigger and bigger until it threatened to swallow you whole. By far the one that made you utterly terrified was the man sitting on a swivel chair.

You couldn't see him - at least, not yet. The chair was turned against you and so, the only thing visible was its back and the back of the man's hair.

"Of course," the man that pushed me said. "Should I stay or--"

"No. You may go, San."

You stood still, stiffly, at your spot even when the door had closed behind you and you were left with this man. None of you had said anything, especially him. He stayed unmoving on his chair, minus the drumming of his fingers on his lap.

"What do you think should happen to a little thief, such as yourself?" I'm curious," the man spoke out, startling you out of your stupor. "What were you thinking?"

Before you could second-guess your decision to speak out, you stood straight, feigning modesty. "It wasn't my intention---"

"Cut the crap," the man rudely interrupted. He grabbed a nearby pen and tapped it on the monitor beside him. "I'm pretty sure my eyes aren't giving out on me yet."

"I-I know, I wasn't eluding towards that," you stammered. You weren't expecting someone strong-willed. "I-It's not what you think."

"Oh? Taking a black, lacey thong and shoving it deep in your purse wasn't what I thought it was?"

Embarrassment flooded your whole body and the tips of your toes all the way through your nose tingles and shivers, the bad kind. This man was bad news, and you knew it.

All of this over some underwear?

The door behind me had opened once again and another man had entered. He was also a guard, that you could tell, but what set this one apart was his incredible physique. He wasn't as muscular as the guard that dragged you here, but you wouldn't want to go against this one either.

"You called for me? I had to hurry," he said before looking me up and down. "So you're the swiper."

"I did. I'm leaving, tell Seonghwa he's in charge."

Everything happened in slow motion. Your world went into a passing blur when the chair swiveled forward until it was facing towards you. The purse you were holding had long fallen towards the floor.

The bulky guard picked your purse up for you before he walked away. "Roger that." 

The man sitting on the chair had a gleam in his eyes as he stared at you, albeit  being cold and calculating. His elbows were propped against the table and his hands were under his chin. He was attractive, definitely your type.

You had a feeling this man would swallow you whole the moment you were left alone with him.

"Jongho? Wait," the man stopped the other from walking away. A small smirk paints his plump lips. "Lock the door." 

Those three words. They were the beginning of your demise. All of this for a pair of underwear you knew you were never going to wear anyway.

You cleared your throat nervously. "What are you going to do to me? And who are you?"

You had made a point to emphasize the last question. You knew who he was, of course, there was a name plaque that was placed towards the front of the big wooden table. 

'Kim Hongjoong, CEO and Executive Owner'

The man stood up from his chair and began stalking towards you without blinking his eyes and averting them. You could do nothing but stare back at him, it was as if his stare was a weight that prevented you from trying to move from your spot.

He grabbed your purse and took out the thong from it using his index finger. The smirk on his face was borderline demonic. "You must really like these panties for you to potentially go to jail for them," Hongjoong chuckled. "I'm sure you'd look marvelous on them."

Hongjoong suddenly threw the purse on the table, the banging sound startling you, before he dumped its contents all over. "Hey," you protested. "You can't---"

"I can and I will," he side-eyed you, one brow raised. For a second, he calculatingly stared at you, slightly disappointed, before he sighed deeply.

There was no point in defending your case, the evidence was right in front of both of you. You internally cursed. Add this to your other firsts, because this was the first time you didn't know what to do or what to say to get yourself out of a sticky situation.

"I'd ask you if you have receipts for this," he poked his tongue on his cheek obnoxiously. "But you'd probably give me excuses you've told the others before. Tell me, how many?"

You balled your fists, the gesture not escaping Hongjoong's attention. It certainly made his cock twitch inside his pants.  "I-I don't know what you're talking about," you mumbled, your tongue twisting against your will.

He hummed before hopping up a bit to sit on top of the table. He swiped the name plaque off until it clattered on the floor. "Sweetheart, listen to me," he began. "The last thing you want right now is to be left in the same room as me."

You shook your head fervently before he continued. "You will do everything I say and I won't do anything to you, providing that you'll be a good girl for me."

You bowed your head and nodded, tears springing to your eyes not because of the underlying threat in Hongjoong's voice, but because of the shame of how his words had affected you and caused you to clench around nothing. You subconsciously pressed your thighs together to stop the tingling sensation that buzzed around your pussy.

Hongjoong smiled at your discomfort, and he knew that you knew what he was thinking based on how your hands shook as you clutched your shirt around your fists.

"Am I clear enough for you, my sweet?" Hongjoong mocked. "Or would you like me to reiterate?"

"No, no, please," you hiccupped. "I-I get it."

"Splendid. Come here."

You wanted to disobey him, to tell him that he can shove a stick up his ass and leave you alone, but deep inside, you weren't that stupid. You knew this would be the end of you if you did do so.

None of this would have happened, but of course, you knew you were already in a losing battle the moment he had turned his chair towards you and looked you straight in the eye.

"Sweetheart," he chuckled darkly, clicking his tongue in impatience. "Already defiant? I should just call the police."

Somehow, that idea was less appealing to you rather than being stuck in a room with a potential psychopathic liar who wouldn't hesitate to take you down if he chose to.

"Please don't do that," you swallowed thickly. You put your hands up directly in front of your chest in a pleading motion. He sees this and his smirk widens. "Look, I-I'm sorry, okay? I'll just put them back, I don't want them."

Hongjoong tilts his head playfully, yet dangerously. "Oh, you'll be sorry, alright," he sighed mockingly. "I'll make you sorry."

He puts his arm forward swiftly and you yelped when he grabbed your arms and pulled you hastily towards him. A small groan escapes your lips when your forehead hits his hard chest. 

"Easy there, sweetheart, don't hurt yourself," he whispered towards your ear. You could tell he has a smile on his face even when you can't see it.

You hadn't realized that you were positioned in between his legs, your hands on his thighs to cushion yourself from when he had pulled on you. You stiffened, looking at him slowly, tilting your head upwards, only to be met with the nastiest leering of your life.

You jumped a bit when you felt his fingers touch your chin. The touch was light, it could almost be mistaken for something welcoming. "God, you're beautiful," he murmured. "So fucking beautiful."

Instantly, butterflies started fluttering in your stomach. You were undeniably aroused, the air between the two of you was so charged that you could almost taste how electrifying it was.

"How beautiful?"

You bit your lip as soon as the question came out. Hongjoong's thumb pressed on your bottom lip and pulled it out between your teeth. The gesture was so intimate, it made me dizzy.

"I could just eat you up right now," he smirked, his tongue running over his bottom lip. "The question is, would you let me have you, love?"

As arousing this was, you knew that you didn't want this. At least, not like this. "You can't do this," you shook your head, pulling away from his touch.

"No, no, little sweetheart, hold on a second," Hongjoong grabbed your arm back with a cheeky smile. You frowned in response to his hold. "You were this close to giving in, I thought we had a genuine connection here."

This time, you couldn't resist rolling your eyes, completely dropping the damsel act since it clearly wasn’t working on him. Hongjoong's brows rise in intrigue at the obvious change of look in your eyes.

You'd play with him for now. It was better for the situation. A little pretending on your end would ease your tensions. You would roleplay for now.

"I don't think it's part of your job description to hold me against my will like this, you pervert," you sneered, pulling on your arm.

He held tight, however, much to your chagrin. He was definitely intrigued now. Intrigued and rock hard in his pants.

"Does this excite you?" Hongjoong grinned lasciviously.

"Is it supposed to? Especially since," you trailed off a little, making a point to look at him up and down. "I don't see anything that excites me."

Hongjoong tried to stifle his laugh before he completely burst out laughing. You tried not to notice how breathtaking he looked like this - the way his eyes crinkled, his mouth spread out in a wide smile, his cheeks reddened. You were already in control of his perverse nature.

"Oh, sweetheart," he chuckled after his laughter. "This is going to be the best night of our life."

"I only stole thongs."

"Ah, yes," he drawled. You were in for a whiplash when his eyes suddenly darkened. There was no other way to describe it but evil.

"Wait, what are you---"

A squeal escapes your lips when Hongjoong roughly lifts your top. True fear ran through your blood, and he didn't even break eye contact as he was doing it. When the clothes you tried to steal tumbled out of your top, a gruntled sigh can be heard from him.

"Well, what do we have here?" Hongjoong cackled, clearly pleased with how everything was going. "You naughty, naughty girl."

"I-I can explain, please," you stammered pathetically, putting your hands up to fix your top. Hongjoong stared at you expectantly with that mocking expression still on his face and against your better judgment, hot tears started to fill the corners of your eyes.

"And what if I don't want to hear them?" Hongjoong smirked. You weren't expecting it, especially when he started to pout sardonically. "Cry it out, love. You've been a very bad girl, after all."

The tears fell then and there, not because you were ashamed that he had caught you, but because of his very presence, itself. Hongjoong had invoked feelings inside you that overwhelmed you so much, you didn't know what to do with them. But most of all, you were just frightened.

Maybe a quick kick to his balls would distract him enough so you could run away. You weighed your options as you wept, closing your eyes to envision how you'd potentially do it.

Screw it, you thought impulsively. You were never one to ever go down without a fight, and you wouldn't start now.

You stepped back a bit to brace yourself and raised your leg, aiming at his groin to hopefully immobilize him. You saw his eyes widen every so slightly as he watched you try to do what you thought was best at the moment given the situation.

But your shoe didn't touch anything.

"Let me go, you bastard! Ugh! You're going to pay for this," you screeched so loud, your own voice threatened to burst your own eardrums, when Hongjoong held your leg with one hand, squeezing it painfully.

You tried to balance yourself with only one foot and it was hard, but it was better than leaning on Hongjoong again. He smirked before he unceremoniously pushed your leg off, making you lose your balance and completely falling into a heap on the cold, tiled floor on the security room.

"I'd like to see you try," he grinned, baring his teeth like a predator would before it attacked its chosen prey.

And attack he did. You cursed internally as you glared at him from where you were. For someone with a smaller stature, he sure was agile and quicker on his feet than you initially thought possible.

You held back a whimper, clamping your mouth shut, when he leapt from the table down to your level, leaning in with an even wider grin. "Now, this is what I'd like to see," he laughed. "You beneath me like this."

You flushed when his hand cupped his obviously hardened cock and groaned sensually. "It's enough to make a man want to burst right then and there. You want it?"

"You're disgusting," you spat as venomously as you could, even though the sound he made shot straight down your wetness.

"So, you don't think you deserve to be punished?"

Visible shock crossed your features before you could stop yourself. Hongjoong seemed to get immense pleasure from your confused face. Suddenly, he began to lean in closer, and closer, until his face was only a couple of inches away from yours.

"W-Wait, I don't want to k-kiss you," you whined, turning your head away in an attempt to block him from his advances.

He put a finger on your lips and it sent warning signals in your brain. "Silence," he whispered, his eyes drooping and darkened with lust. "Not a sound unless it's you begging for me to have you..."

"P-Please, seriously, I really cannot," another whine sounded from you when he tried to lean again.

This time, annoyance flickered on his face and you gulped when you realized that you had lit the fire in his eyes. "You're testing my patience, sweetheart. I only have so much," he clicked his tongue. "Kiss me. I'll make it good for you."

When you still didn't relent, a growl of anger reverberated around the room. "You're pissing me off," Hongjoong hissed, his crazed eyes widening in ire. "Don't you know that playing hard to get will only land you in more trouble? Get on the table, now."

You didn't dare move, but this time, it was out of fear versus the defiant streak you've been giving him since you arrived in the room. Hongjoong opted to stand beside the wooden table, his eyes intently watching you will your trembling legs to stop.

He's sick, you thought. The way he smiled to himself like he was currently on top of the world made you realize that he was definitely holding back from unleashing all his demons on you. The worst part was that an even sicker part of you wished that he would soon.

In the end, Hongjoong forcefully dragged you to the table, himself, because his impatience and your insubordination was killing him on the inside. The way you struggled against him brought him a horrid sense of satisfaction. He'd have fun breaking you, he'd make sure of it.

"Fuck, my sweet girl," he bit his lip to stop himself from groaning out loud. The way you were sprawled on the table below him made him shiver in delight. "You look so good like this."

"P-Please," you sniffled, struggling once more against his hold, especially against his hand that held your wrists above your head. "I won't do it again, you're scaring me."

"That's because I am trying to scare you," Hongjoong said in an as-a-matter-of-fact tone. He smirked, tightening his hold. "But, you're turned on, aren't you?"

You marveled at the way he stared at your body up and down, gazing upon you as if he was trying to commit your current form into his memory. The things he said had made you angry, but you couldn't deny that he was right - he did turn you on.

But you weren't going to admit it. "I don't know what you're talking about..."

He hummed before he let your wrists go so he could pull you closer to him by pulling you by your waist, your core nestled comfortably at his midsection. "I think you do."

You didn't know what terrified you more - the dangerous position you were in right now, or the way your fright had made his eyes go wild, wide, and crazy with lust and arousal. He resembled something akin to sin, but damn, everybody sins once in a while, don't they?

Shivers erupted on your skin when his hands started to trail all over your body. It got more and more difficult to suppress the sounds that your body wants to make, especially when his hand slowly started creeping higher and higher until it went up your skirt. 

You panicked and jumped. "Stop it! What are you doing?!"

"What does it look like? You can see for yourself, if you'd like," he cockily replied with a small chuckle.

"We can talk about thi---"

"Sure," he rudely interrupted with a wicked gleam in his eyes. You whined when he squeezed your inner thighs. "I'm also sure you'd have a lovely conversation with the police as well."

You looked at him, horrified at his blatant intention with you. "Just let me go," you pleaded. "I-I promise I won't tell anyone about this, Hongjoong, please."

He pushed you back down and you couldn't help but wince in surprise. "No," he grunted out. "My name sounds too good on your lips, baby. Why would I do that?"

You felt his hand reach the band of your underwear and he bit his lips. You unconsciously clench around nothing at the sight of his sinful mouth, your mind suddenly reeling at the thought of what that mouth can do to you. Good things, you bet.

"I'm going to do anything I want with you, think of it as your punishment," he shrugged. "What say you, Y/N?"

"Do I have any other choices? Because it seems like I do not," you frowned, cowering under his impertinent gaze.

"You do, you always will," he shrugged nonchalantly. "In fact, you can choose to leave right now. I'm just saying that staying is your 'get out of jail' card. Pick your poison."

Hongjoong grinned at your pale face. "And when you're in jail, sweetie, you're going to wish you were still with me," he purred.

"Y-You wouldn't dare," you shook your head in denial, your chest constricting at the possibility. "You wouldn't!"

You let out an actual scream when he slammed his palms on the table on either side of your head. He managed to lean down so close, you could feel how fast his heart was beating. You supposed you weren't the only one anxious - excited - at the prospect of what's going to happen.

"I'm sorry, I-I'll just pay for them," you mumbled, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment of how much his roughness was turning you on so much. Still, you had dignity to keep. "I have enough money to pay..."

It was true. It was what made your kleptomaniac tendencies all the more embarrassing. You couldn't take all the credit, however, your family had the money, not you. If you so choose, you could buy every single thing this department store had and you'd still have more money than the average person.

Hongjoong clicked his tongue as he stared down at you. "I know. I'm aware who you are, sweetheart."

You shook your head in denial. "Impossible."

He laughed, his chest vibrating against your own. It had certainly made the room even hotter. "Nothing is impossible, Song Y/N."

He wasn't supposed to know that. Time stood still as you stared at him. The maliciousness in his eyes deepened when he saw how stumped you were.

Your heart almost leapt out of your ribcage and landed itself plush on Hongjoong's hands when he thrust his hips against you. You had to stifle the moans that wanted to push past your lips, there was no way you were giving in to this man. Not like this.

You did, however, gasp when his hand started kneading your breast. "Here's what's going to happen," his voice thickened with impalpable lust. "You are going to call your brothers and tell them you're going to be late."

You whined, wiggling a bit to relieve the pleasurable sensation Hongjoong made you feel, but to no avail. "Stay put," he growled. A yelp resounded from you when he pinched your inner thigh hard. "Go on. Do as I say. I do not want to be interrupted once I start."

The danger that loomed over you terrified you to no end, but you weren't going to stop trying to do something as a last ditch effort. "I-I don't have brothers," you denied, stuttering as you felt his hand squeeze your breast harder while the other hand stoked your legs slowly.

He smiled, but instead of making you feel better, it terrified you even more. It wasn't the smile that was supposed to comfort you, it was the one where he knew you were lying through your teeth.

"A liar on top of being a thief, huh?" Hongjoong chuckled. His hand went higher and higher until he groaned when he felt your damp underwear. "Jeong Yunho and Song Mingi. Yunho, the oldest, was your father's son from his previous marriage, and Mingi is your fraternal twin brother."

You squint your eyes at him. Anger ran thick through your blood. Hongjoong faltered for a split second before he got his composure back. You supposed everyone kept their own secrets.

He leaned down until his lips were touching your ear. You were so taken aback by his knowledge that you couldn't even afford to feel pleasure in it. "And you," he whispered. "The mayor's well kept daughter. So well kept, in fact, that the majority of people don't even know you exist."

He wasn't supposed to know that. Your father kept you hidden not because he doesn't love you. In fact, he loved you too much. He didn't want you to find a man that only approached you as an extension of his position in politics. 

You were done for. If Hongjoong's earlier actions had scared you, you were now dead petrified of this man. "Who the hell are you? That's classified information," you couldn't help but say.

There was something about Hongjoong that made him especially fearful. It was an entirely different domain of dominance you had never seen in any other man you've encountered. One look was all it took for you to unravel yourself for him, and he knew that you knew this.

He ignored your question, opting to lean away from you and lifting both of his hands from your body temporarily. You breathe our a sigh of relief but it gets cut short when he hands you the receiver of his desk phone. He still wanted you to call your brothers.

The shift in his eyes when he held your hand and hastily placed the phone in your hands had you shutting your mouth. He looked absolutely insane and crazed, especially now that he has you where he wanted you. Kim Hongjoong reminded you of an A-Grade psychopath; an insatiably attractive psychopath.

You were definitely a moth to a flame.

"Hello. You have reached the Secretary to the Mayor, Jeong Yunho, and I am unfortunately not available to speak with you right now..."

The familiar voicemail of your older brother had you panicking on the inside. You cursed under your breath. When Yunho said he wasn't available, he meant it. He wasn't someone who you could call back.

"What's the hold up?" Hongjoong asked impatiently, his hands caressing the bands of your underwear, teasing little circles on them as if he was deciding if he should take them off or not.

You ignored him, along with the zings of pleasure down your wetness, and dialed your other brother's number while you imagined ways to smack his head if he didn't pick up the frantic phone call you were---

"Y/N? Are you okay?"

A sigh of relief escapes your mouth before you could stop it. Mingi's voice brought you immediate comfort. "Y-Yeah," you answered. "How'd you know it was me? This isn't my number."

There was a pause on the other line before a sigh resounds. "I-I had a feeling, I was actually going to call you in ten minutes," Mingi said.

Your heart warmed. There was no scientific backing about twin telepathy or something even remotely similar, but you and Mingi could swear that both of you always had that weight pressing on your chest whenever the other was in great distress. Today was one of those times.

Suddenly, Hongjoong leaned over the landline and pressed a particular button - the loudspeaker. You gulped and gave him a questioning look. "W-What are you doing?"

Once again, he ignored you. You would've been fine with it, but when he paused only to look up and smirk, you knew right then and there, that you were done for. He went from caressing to full-on massaging your hips and thighs.

You opted to put the receiver away from your ear and covered it with your palm. Your heart was beating a million miles per second. "I-I'm on the phone---"

"Shhh," Hongjoong hushed you, his stare becoming more and more devilish. "I'm not stopping you from talking, aren't I?"

My entire body was on fire. His entire hand disappeared under your skirt and the first contact he had that was remotely close to your snug heat, you yelped in utter surprise.

"Are you hurt, Y/N? What's the matter?"

You immediately fumbled and uncovered the phone to speak. "Y-Yeah," you covered up your nervousness with a small chuckle of uncertainty. "I-It's just a little hot over here, you know?"

Desire was slowly taking over your body, Hongjoong's gentle prod to spread your legs intensifying the intense craving. You could tell that his patience was slowly waning out, especially when he ripped your underwear clean in the middle.

You purse your lips to stop the moan that threatened to spill out of your lips. The cold air that he blew straight down there had you clutching the wooden table with your blunt fingernails. Your breathing became faster and faster as he started his onslaught.

"I could tell," Mingi laughed breathily. "I could hear your breathing. You've always been the one who sweated the most when the three of us were younger."

Your toes curled in on themselves when Hongjoong wasted no time slipping a finger inside your dripping sex. You couldn't help but hold onto his shoulder for support before you fell over. You blushed, not for the pleasure, but for the shame, not believing that you were getting fingered while on the phone with your brother, no less.

"S-Say, Min-Min," you began, clearing your throat. "I d-don't think I'm---oh!"

Oh, you were sure Mingi knew what was happening. Hongjoong curled his finger up and hit a particular spot that had you reeling from where you were lying. You kicked his shoulder in retaliation. He tilted his head towards you as a challenge.

Your eyes widened when he started thrusting his finger in and out of you without any mercy. The pleasure was eating you alive; a fire that swallowed you in its heat. Your back arched involuntarily at his ministrations as you twisted it to reach for the mute button on the phone, but your arm was grabbed and shoved away.

"You want to be a brat?" Hongjoong scoffed, bringing up his other hand to rub circles on your clit. "Keep talking, I didn't tell you to stop."

You shook your head repeatedly, your eyes begging him to stop. Without breaking eye contact, he turned his head to give you small love bites all over your lower legs. Eventually, he slowed down. He didn't stop, but you'd rather take this.

"You're worrying me, Y/N. I'm not fucking around anymore," Mingi's voice switched from that playful tone you knew to the tone he'd use on you when he's back in business. "Are you hurt or not? I'll come pick you up, where are you?"

Hongjoong laughed under his breath at that and you heard the distinct jingle of the car keys that you knew belonged to Mingi. "N-No! Wait!"

You bit your lip and reprimanded yourself internally. That sounded more defensive than you intended it to. "I'm fine, seriously," you squeaked. "You don't---"

"You know we're twins, right?" Mingi deadpanned. "I know when you're lying."

You released a heavy breath, your hand moving from Hongjoong's shoulder to his head, tangling your fingers in between his luscious hair strands. He buried his head on your inner thigh, giving it more tiny kisses and even tinier sucks, before you felt his tongue hit your wetness.

"B-But I'm n-not though." you whined. You just hoped it sounded like you were complaining rather than it sounding pleasure-filled.

You glanced down and almost combusted. Seeing Hongjoong's eyes closed as he lapped your pussy turned you on more than his mouth did. He explored you in your most intimate places as if he was memorizing the way you tasted in his tongue. You needed to come, and Hongjoong knew it.

"Y/N," Mingi sighed. "It's the heat, I get it, no need to be ashamed. Father won't be mad seeing you needing help once in a while. I don't want you to get hurt..."

You tuned out Mingi's voice, not by choice, however. Hongjoong's mouth was that good. He knew how to turn you on, as much as you hated to admit it, and he already figured out the areas that made you squirm under his hold.

You covered the phone again. "G-Gonna come," you whispered breathlessly. 

Hongjoong hummed, the vibrations making you squirm even more. He pulled away for a second and you almost whined from the loss. "Yeah? Hold it in, sweetheart," he whispered back. "I don't think you want to come right now."

You wanted to protest, to say that this was his fault and he started it, but you knew that he was right even though all you wanted to do right was squirt on his face.

"You know what, fuck this. You're not listening," Mingi's gruff voice snapped me out. "We didn't vouch for your independence only for you to get sick so---"

"Who's sick?"

You went rigid. Your entire body just froze immediately and you went so motionless all of a sudden that even Hongjoong had to stop and look up at you in confusion. You felt his hand rest on your thighs reassuringly. Just like that, your orgasm had completely died down.

"Hand me the phone," you heard your other brother deadpan. God, you could just imagine him with his palms out demandingly.

"Why?" Mingi asked apprehensively.

"Because I said so," the former supplied like it was a well-known fact. Mingi argued further in the background but was stopped immediately. "Need I remind you that you're not even supposed to be here right now? I could easily tell Father."

There was a shuffling sound on the other end before there was a sudden pause before a voice spoke out. "Y/N."

You gulped before answering. "Y-Yunho."

It wasn't as if you didn't like Yunho or you were scared of him. You loved him like you loved Mingi. He was just more rigid, more strict, and more emotionally absent since he was the oldest out of you three. Your father had raised him like this, but even so, and sometimes, you supposed that you were intimidated by him.

"This is not your number, where are you?" Yunho sounded exasperated and you couldn't help but bite your lip. "Are you not in the house?"

"N-No, I-I, uh, I went out for a bit and..."

You stared at Hongjoong, contemplating what to do. He sensed what you were thinking and pressed on your inner thighs. You had to bite your inner cheeks this time, because Mingi was easier to fool than Yunho. Your excuses would not work this time.

"Speak up, little one," Yunho scolded. "If Father found out you sounded like this, even I would not be able to stop him from bringing you back."

Right. As if he didn't sound even more intimidating. Your father wanted to hide you so much, but you felt suffocated in the house. Yunho might have been the way he is, but deep down, you knew he didn't want you to end up like he was raised.

Hongjoong stared at you with this unreadable expression on his face, but you ignored it, opting to clear your throat before speaking up again. "I'm not sick," you explained. "I lost my phone and I'm just having a bit of difficulty finding it."

It was a shitty excuse, and as Hongjoong smirked devilishly in your direction, you had hoped that it would work.

"When did you become so careless?" Yunho chided once more. "Fear not. I shall purchase you a new one immediately."

Hongjoong scoffed, rolling his eyes, but he didn't say anything. "I'm not, and no need," you frowned. "Never mind, I just wanted to let you guys know that I'm going to be home late. That phone had sentimental value to me."

You stared at the said phone that lay near the area where Hongjoong was. That part was truthful at least, and Yunho stayed silent this time. He did give you that phone, after all.

"I cannot stop you from doing what you want, so go ahead," he said. You frowned, heart stinging a little at his nonchalance.

"I'll let you know," you murmured.

As you were about to hang up, Yunho's voice filled the phone again. "Wait."

You raised a brow, a bit surprised, even more so when he said the next few words that'll lighten you up before he hung up. "Take care, little one."

It was short-lived, however. The moment Yunho had hung up, Hongjoong took this opportunity to pounce on you again like a starved animal that had waited too long for its meal to be served.

"W-Wait, you can't do this," you whined, pushing on him again when he resumed what he had started earlier.

"That phone call wasn't supposed to be that long," Hongjoong rolled his eyes, his fingers finding their place inside me again. "Your brothers are fucking weird. One's a potential asshole and the other one has a stick up his ass all the time."

You squint your eyes to contain the fire within them. "Don't talk about them like that!"

"Or what?" Hongjoong challenged. "You're dripping on my hand, sweetheart, I wouldn't talk if I were you. Because I could easily do this."

You shrieked when he went down on you again, but this time, he was sucking on your clit while his fingers still went in and out of you like a piston, his thumb specifically hitting your bud along with his tongue.

"Oh, God, mhm," you couldn't help but groan out, no matter how embarrassing.

"There is no God, Y/N. It's just you and me here," Hongjoong laughed against your pussy. "Finish what you started earlier. Come on my fucking face..."

Yeah, it was definitely embarrassing. You weren't someone who would orgasm fast, if anything, it was difficult to get there most of the time because your other partners just either weren't good, or you weren't that much attracted to them. Yeah, you were messed up from getting cross- eyed and screaming in pleasure.

"Fuck, yeah, give it to me, pretty," Hongjoong laughed maniacally as he stared at your fucked-out face, his fingers not relenting, though his tongue had long stopped from slurping your juices. He'd save it for later.

Frankly, it was the best orgasm of your life so far. You were never going to admit that to him, though. His ego would be the size of this room.

"S-Stop," you whined, pushing his head away weakly. "S-Sensitive..."

"Aww," he sniggered, his lips down turning tauntingly. His fingers went from going in and out to massaging your sweet spot. "But you look so fucking good like this."

"O-Oh," you sighed breathily. "I r-really can't, p-please stop..."

Hongjoong clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes, pulling his fingers out. He looked almost disappointed, but you didn't care.

You stared at the bright light up the ceiling, your chest rising up and down, the realization slowly sinking into you. Your cheeks rivaled the brightness of the light, not believing that you had just let him do whatever he wanted with you like this.

It wasn't like you didn't like it, but you wished it was in another circumstance.

You turned your head to look at Hongjoong, and whilst you were analyzing him, he couldn't help but falter a bit. 

He wasn't kidding when he said you looked pretty, he meant it. In fact, you looked a little too pretty for him just laying down his table, ready to be taken by the plucking. He wasn't impartial to the effect he does to you, he could see how you trembled the longer he stared.

He strode forward with a purpose. This wasn't part of his plan, but he needed to taste you. He just hoped his strides weren't  borderline desperate.

Your eyes widened when he snaked his hand on the back of your neck and lifted it towards his face, and before you could react, his eyes had already closed and his lips had already met yours.

His lips were pillowy soft, just the way you liked it, and it moved so well in sync with yours. It was undeniable how strong our chemistry was as our lips moved to fight for dominance. It ignited a fire within you that unfortunately, nobody else can ever put out anymore.

You could feel his smirk against yours, his tongue entangled with yours, as you tasted yourself from his lips. Combine that with Hongjoong's own taste, you were definitely screwed.

"So I guess this is payment enough," you murmured, pulling away from him just enough to get your point across.

"Think you can come for me again, sweetie?" Hongjoong asked, completely ignoring your statement. 

"W-What?"

To say that you were reeling was probably an understatement on your end. He pulled away momentarily, and you thought he was done, but then he dipped his head down your shoulder after he pushed your top aside. You whimpered when he gave your skin tiny, little kisses so gentle, you forgot what you were initially here for.

"Well?" Hongjoong whispered, his voice wavering. His lips made a small trail for your shoulder to your neck until he was dead set on one spot he knew you'd feel hot all over for. "You're gonna give it to me, right?"

"I-I'm not sure," you spoke in broken moans. 

"It's alright," he cooed. His hands were already back on your inner thighs. "Come on, baby, I'll make you feel so good..."

He didn't even give you a chance to reply. His fingers were already tracing your slit, his little groans of pleasure at the wet sounds your pussy was producing had your mind spinning. You were so lost into him; it was as if he had literally mesmerized you into his bidding.

"Ah, oh, that f-feels, ah," you stammered helplessly against his touch.  His fingers adeptly played with your pussy, alternating between pushing inside you ever so slightly and rubbing delicious circles on your clit.

"Yeah?" Hongjoong moaned softly, his kisses on your neck getting softer and softer as if he was making the sweetest love with it. "This cunt is mine, hmm?"

"Wait, I-I didn't say tha---"

"You will now," he gave your neck more sensual kisses. His warm breath hitting your skin made you extremely dizzy. His hand trails on your arm up and down even more sensually. "Ah, come on, baby, mmm, say it..."

Your groin was on fire, the tingling sensations that Hongjoong's coaxing was altering your brain chemistry all in all. You whined quietly, tilting your neck to meet his lips subconsciously. This was highly dangerous for you; exceedingly addicting.

His lips had migrated to your jawline, rendering you down to a slave to his desires. He doesn't put his fingers inside you, however, and you weren't sure if you liked that or not.

"I'll help you. Repeat after me, yeah?" Hongjoong whispered, his voice almost inaudible. "Say, 'I'm all yours,' it's easy enough."

You tried opening your mouth to say something, but nothing came out                                                                        when you tried to pry the words out of your mouth. He clicked his tongue, teasing you by slowly biting on your earlobes.

"Say it, don't be shy," he commanded softly. "I'm all yours."

"I-I'm all y-yours..."

Shame washed all over you the moment you said the words. He made a sound of approval, but he wasn't done yet.

"Good, good," he goaded, laughing breathily. "Say it again..."

"I'm all yours---"

"Daddy," he insisted, finally pulling away to look you straight in the eye. "Say you're mine, baby."

Goosebumps rose from your arms all the way to your shoulders, leaving you with shivers along their wake. "I'm all yours, d-daddy," you squeaked pathetically.

An animalistic grin stretches across his entire mouth. "That's right, you're going to give me my pussy, right?"

When he put it like that, you grasped how hypnotized you were with his words within a couple of minutes. Realization washed over you and your eye contact with him breaks, much to Hongjoong's chagrin. You both knew his spell was broken.

"Is this what you do to all the people who shoplift? Because this is wild," you frowned deeply, pushing away from him by holding onto his shoulders for support so you wouldn't fall off. 

He smirked, shaking his head. "No. Just you."

"Somehow, I find that difficult to believe," you chuckled without any humour in it. You were playing with fire by egging him but you couldn't help. You wanted to know.

Hongjoong narrowed his eyes on you, clearly annoyed with your accusations. "You seem to be following me willingly just fine earlier, sweetheart," he scoffed. "If I really wanted to, I'd make you do way more than this."

"Wasn't earlier enough? I don't believe this," you shook your head in disbelief.

"Well, you better believe it, because you still have to pay the price," he chuckled darkly. "Just not with money."

Hongjoong pushed your hands away from him and walked backwards from where you were sitting until his back hit the wall across from you so he could lean against it. Your jaw hung from his implication, the nerve of this bastard!

He nodded towards your forgotten purse. "You know what I've been thinking the whole time, sweets? I wonder how good you'd look with those on."

You blushed furiously, the scenarios of what he's implying playing through your head. The lingerie you stole was very skimpy. "Good, I'm sure," you mumbled thoughtlessly.

"Oh? Prove it."

It began to dawn on you what exactly he wanted you to do. You had hoped that you were wrong, but alas, this man in front of you was as dangerous as he was unpredictable.

You didn't respond. He stared at you with unfiltered lust, waiting to see what you were going to do.

"And if I chose not to do it?"

Hongjoong's brows drew together. "You know exactly what's going to happen," he sighed, irritated. "It's not going to be difficult, I already tore your panties off of you earlier, anyway."

His mouth was scandalous, too. However, this was a better alternative than the horrible life that was jail. It was a losing battle so you closed your eyes, and with a deep sigh, you started to unbutton your clothes until your top was completely off along with your skirt, leaving you only in your undergarments.

Since you had no panties anymore, your pussy was fully exposed in front of him. Redness covered your entire face and neck at your nudity, but this was a small price to pay so he wouldn't call the cops.

Hongjoong wanted to bust inside his pants right then and there. The sight of your shaved pussy filled his mind with animalistic urges. He held himself off, at least for now, to savour your nakedness. He'll take his time claiming you soon.

He crossed his arms as he watched you take your clothes off. There wasn't any expression on his face whatsoever and the only indication that he was enjoying this more than he was letting on was the growing tent in his pants.

"Do you want me to put them on for you?" Hongjoong raised a brow, the tone of his voice shifting from lighthearted to angry. You quickly shook your head. "Alright, hurry up before I do it myself."

You avoided eye contact, opting to look on the floor, and bit your lips in nervousness. Slowly, your hands went backwards to the hooks of your bra, but they were shaking with so much anxiety that even if you tried, unhooking them became challenging.

"Don't piss me off, sweetheart. I don't have all day," he warned, tone clipped and irate. "Take them off now."

You tried to open your mouth to reason with him, but all he did was glare at you so hard with an anger so intense, it almost disintegrated you from your spot.

"Take them off!" Hongjoong yelled. You jumped from your spot when he banged his fist on the wooden panel walls of the office. It effectively rattles the entire room and your insides.

After trying again, it finally unhooked and soon enough, your breasts were spilling out of your bra, but before they were fully exposed, you hastily grabbed the lingerie set and put on the bra that was included in it.

Next were the panties. You started putting them on quickly and that's when you noticed that they were crotchless. You paled, that would mean your hole would be fully exposed to Hongjoong's desires. You slowly craned your head towards his direction, heart beating fast.

His eyes were hooded, cloudy with the unmistakable need to completely dominate you. His breathing became laboured, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed down the saliva building up in his mouth with how delectable you looked.

"Fuck," he cursed under his breath. He always knew you looked good, and he knew that you'd look even better with the lingerie on, but goddamn, was he not expecting you to look this good.

He needed to be inside you. He needed to have you. He needed you.

He cleared his throat loudly. "Come on, give daddy a little twirl, love," he coaxed, voice hoarse, as he twisted his index finger in a twirling motion. "I wanna see that perky ass."

"But I don't want to do it for you," you frowned, shaking your head to cover up the fact that you were getting insanely turned on from him making you call him daddy.

"That's just too bad, isn't it, sweetheart?"

You had no idea where he was getting his audacity, but you weren't going to question it any further. You reckon it was from owning this whole damn mall, but still.

It's an absolute mess, isn't it? There was no use denying it, a sick part of you was extremely attracted to the even sicker man that was Kim Hongjoong. Your mind was telling you to run away, your heart being the one to pull you back, but your pussy was telling you to please him with whatever you have.

Reluctantly, you turned around, twirling like a little doll, just like he wanted. You were beet red with embarrassment, and you heard his groan of approval from behind you as he stared at your plump behind.

"Been working out, huh?" Hongjoong teased, whistling salaciously to emphasize his point.

"Maybe," you murmured. "Are you going to let me go after? I-I just want to go home."

"Maybe," he bit back cryptically.

Despite yourself, you couldn't help but let out a small chuckle at how ridiculous this all was.

The mischief in that Cheshire-like smile that was bigger than anything else you've ever seen and it had almost given you the shivers. You were glad he was far away from you across the room, you didn’t want him in your face. 

He screamed authority - you weren't sure if you hated it down to hell or loved it towards the high heavens. 

You felt self-conscious all of a sudden, your hands moved themselves to cover what little skin you could. Hongjoong tilts his head in your peripheral vision, but chooses not to say anything as he watches you squirm from where you were standing.

Holes were the only thing missing on your body by how hard he was staring. Your almost nudity wasn't bothering you this time, though. He was probably staring at all your flaws and imperfections and it worried you more than anything else.

"You don't believe me, do you?" Hongjoong mumbled, his brow raised in question.

You frowned. "What?"

"You're fucking pretty," he clarified crudely without any ounce of shame, licking his bottom lip slowly, dragging the wet muscle seductively. "The prettiest girl I've ever seen in my entire life. You really are."

A laugh bubbles out of your chest with said chest jiggling unnecessarily and catching Hongjoong's sharp gaze. "Do you honestly expect me to believe anything that comes out of your mouth?"

"No," he shrugged nonchalantly. Your frown deepens when he gets to his feet and starts to walk forward. "Which is why I'm going to show you," he pauses to raise his hand. "Come to me, love."

It was a losing fight and deep down, you knew it. Still, you didn't move, not because you were trying to resist, but because this time, you felt genuine uncertainty for the first time since entering this room almost an hour ago by now.

You gulped. "A-Are you going to...?"

"Mhhm," he replied faster than you'd like. He makes grabbing motions by closing his fists and opening them. "I'm getting impatient."

You avoided eye contact with him. It was a mistake on your end because the moment your eyes left his, was the moment Hongjoong set out his attack and dug his claws onto your skin.

Your scream was cut off when he turned you around and pushed you down the table so now you were leaning against the edge of it, ass in air. You didn't mean to be that loud, you were just so surprised by the sudden jerk of your body.

"W-Wait---"

There was a shushing sound from behind you and you were about to turn your head to look but you felt his hand on the back of it and pushed down. "H-Hongjoong, hold on---"

You didn't mean to moan when he roughly pulled your panties all the way down to your feet in one motion, and just like that, your entire behind was exposed to him to do whatever he wanted with it. That just left you with your bra, which surprisingly, he didn't touch.

A whimper slips past your lips when you hear the telltale crinkling of a condom wrapper being opened before you see the wrapper being carelessly thrown away somewhere, of course without its contents. That, alone, was enough to make your heart beat out of tune.

You felt his clothed chest press onto your back when he leaned forward, his lips teasing the back of your ears. "O-Oh, ngh," your garbled moans sounded when you felt his wet fingers prod your empty hole, lubing it from the outside.

It suddenly reminded you of your deepest, darkest secret - you were always into the roleplay aspect of sex. It was something you've only told one person before and now that it's happening, you weren't sure on how to react.

"Show's over," his voice was harsh and laboured as he whispered from behind you. Your voice was caught in your throat when you felt the tip of his cock press onto its goal. "Or is it?"

You haven't even internalized what he said yet when he held your hips tightly and started to enter you, his lust evident with how firm his shove was. You both moaned in sync, especially when you accidentally squeezed him in. 

He was cursing under his each with each thrust forward and when he had finally burrowed deep inside you, he paused for a little so as to not overwhelm you. 

Try as he might, you just felt too good for him to preserve his self-control. You weren't faring any better, his cock hit you just right. If anything, you were worried that the pleasure might drive you into incoherence. You didn't want to embarrass yourself any further.

You felt completely stuffed, and you couldn't help but moan his name out loud. "H-Hongjoong..."

You heard him groan in pleasure. He pulled out a bit only for him to enter again carefully. It was almost agonizing, you could feel every inch of his cock creating the friction you were craving for since you had laid eyes on him.

"It's not so bad is it?" Hongjoong groaned, reaching underneath you to play with your swollen nipples. "Fuck, you feel my cock deep inside you, huh?"

You didn't respond, not giving him the satisfaction he wanted yet. Ripples of pleasure spreads from your core all throughout your body as Hongjoong impales you with his thick cock over and over again, not too fast, just enough for the both of you to be a sweaty, panting mess.

At this point, you couldn't care less if there were people who could hear from outside. The only sounds in the room were the table creaking from all the thrusting Hongjoong was doing in and out of you, the slapping of skin to skin, and the moans you let out as your pussy took all the beating from Hongjoong's insatiable lust.

"You just make me so fucking horny, sweetheart, ah," he growled, thrusting particularly deep this time. "I wanna stay in this pussy forever, what do you think?"

"F-Fuck, oh, s-stop doing t-that," you panted, not able to properly produce words from Hongjoong's unrelenting thrusts.

"What? This?"

His hips pistoned into you so hard, that the table edges were scratching your stomach from too much friction. You wouldn't be surprised if tomorrow your skin there would be so dry.

Hongjoong seemed to take notice of this. Reluctantly,  he pulled out of you and for a second, you almost whined at the sudden loss of his cock filling you, but then he started to carry you to another past of the room where a couch lay waiting.

He hastily took off his clothes after laying you down, and after sprawling on top of your body, he thrust back into you once more in one fluid motion. He growled at the sensation, the sound of it making you even wetter than you already were.

"Yeah, oh baby," he hissed, this time not holding back on his animalistic desires, as he fucked you onto the couch. "Kiss me."

Your lips found his and you didn't hesitate to scream into his mouth as he kept burying his cock deeper and deeper inside you, if that was possible. Your entire body was on fire and the only thing that could quench your growing heat was Hongjoong, himself.

"God, your tits look so fucking great in these," his mouth pulled away to latch on your soft flesh, eliciting the dirtiest noises from you that you weren't aware you could produce in the first place.

"Feels good," you couldn't help but let out. "A-Ah, Hongjoong..."

"Yeah?" Hongjoong breathed out. "Want me to go faster or slower?"

"I-I don't know," you moaned out truthfully. You weren't sure if that answer was for his question or an admission on your end. Sweat was starting to trail down from your temples down to your chin.

"It's okay," he shushed. "How about you close your eyes and let me do all the work?"

Suddenly, he was taken aback when he thrust forward. He could've sworn he felt you fuck back onto him . It was all the confirmation he needed. His hand meanders towards the back of your head then pulls it towards him so his lips were against your forehead.

The gesture was so intimate and you reigned yourself from giving in to him, but when he started whispering your name like a mantra, you failed in the attempt.

"Y/N, shit," he growled over and over again. "I stand corrected," he groaned lowly. "You look beautiful, prettier, taking my cock like this."

You surrendered to the pleasure and closed your eyes. His cock surging in and out of your pussy as his other hand cupped your face tenderly was a juxtaposition. Your body went from taking a fucking to lifting your hips up to meet his as you helplessly squirmed underneath him, soft moans of bliss escaping your lips.

Suddenly, his fingers prodded your lips open. On instinct, you opened your mouth to accommodate him. "Ah," he chuckled lazily. "There she is..."

He drew his cock back the same time his fingers in your mouth did, paused, and drove back - both his cock and fingers - inside your holes just as deeply. You met his eyes as he looked down on you. They burned, this whole room could burn and you still wouldn't look away.

"Just like that, sweetheart, keep looking at me while I'm fucking you," he grunted, his face getting faster, sloppier. "Fuck, look at you, taking me so well..."

You tried to moan a protest, but there was a sick satisfaction that overcame his features when he saw that you couldn't speak since he was plugging your mouth. "It's true though," he panted, sighing in intense pleasure. "You just take it so fucking well, sweetheart."

One angle in his thrusting made you bite on his fingers, your eyes widened, whimpering because you didn't want to hurt him, but all he did was shush you, whispering words of reassurance that of how you couldn't possibly hurt him.

"H-Hongjoong, a-ah, fuck, I-I wanna come," you practically begged, your hands moving to his shoulders and squeezing to make your point known.

"Not yet, sweetie, not yet," he grunts. He, then, moved his hands so now they were fully cupping your whole face. He aligns it to his and now that you were staring directly into his eyes, you couldn't help but let out a small smile.

You felt him twitch inside you and you couldn't help your giggle even though you bit your bottom lip to stop the sound. In turn, Hongjoong let out a mixture of his own laugh and his grunts as he plunged into you in long, deep strokes instead of the rapid, shallow ones he's used to doing.

"You okay?" Hongjoong voiced out after a while, trying to stop his smirk as he looked at your fucked out face.

"Mhhm," you moaned out. "I-I just---"

"You want to come?"

You nodded so hard, you felt your neck strain at the sudden force. "P-Please, Joongie?"

He almost busted at your small, whiny voice as you begged for your orgasm. God, if the image of you underneath him as your greedy pussy swallowed his cock wasn't enough, you just had to sound as equally good as you looked. You were definitely set to torture him. 

"Goddamn it, Y/N, how am I supposed to last like this?" Hongjoong's voice was borderline whiny as well, his climax creeping in on him. "Good girls don't come until I tell them to."

You could have cried in frustration. "I'll be good, I'll be so good, daddy," you hiccupped, your tears welling up in your eyes. Safe to say, you were into him just as much as he was into you - literally on his end.

"I know, you already are, my sweet girl," he said. "You're such a good girl, yes? Come on, say it."

"I'm d-daddy's good girl," a lone tear falls from your eye. "I'm y-your good girl, Joongie..."

The little grunts he let out almost sent your vision black as his strokes got faster, sloppier, his hips pistoning onto yours, the sound of skin slapping against each other echoey all over the room, in your ears. You were so deep in this, and the thing was, you never wanted to get out.

"I'm going to fuck you into this couch, baby, and then I'm going to fuck you some more after we're done..."

"Y-You have to make me come first," you pouted even when your sight was beginning to get hazy from all the pleasure that Hongjoong was willing to indulge you in. 

Hongjoong laughed, a real laugh, his chest bubbling with unspoken happiness despite all the lust that clouded his entire being. "Oh, I will," he leaned in, burying his face on your neck. "I'm going to count to three, I want you to come in one, can you do that for me, sweetheart?"

You nodded without hesitation and Hongjoong swore you never looked more beautiful than you did right now. He kissed your neck in acknowledgement before he completely let go of all his inhibitions and began to actually fuck you hard and fast.

"Three," he pounded away so forcefully, the couch began to move from its spot backwards inch by inch, and you loved every second of it. 

He grabbed your throat for a moment, squeezed, and suddenly let go. It cut off your screams as your oxygen paused for a second. He did that over and over again until you got lightheaded. Somehow, that intensified the pleasure his cock gave you.

"Ah! Joongie, fuck, oh, oh, fu---"

He kissed you passionately, the movement of his lips bruising yours, matching the way his hips moved to its pace. Both of your moans mixed in with one another, and it was nothing short of filthy.

"Two," he ground onto you, the number almost melting into nothingness. He continued to kiss you, as if he was pouring everything he couldn't tell you into the fiery sensation of him sucking your soul out through your mouth.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, moaning as his cock went impossibly deeper into you, and crossed them. Your nails repeatedly dragged across his skin, leaving angry marks on them that you'll, for sure, savour later. You were already proud of them.

"I'm such a w-whore for you, daddy," you let out, something you didn't intend on doing, but for some reason, it just slipped out of you.

Hongjoong moaned into your mouth, your lips drowning and swallowing the sounds. He was whining and whimpering wildly as his hips stuttered and chased his high, using your body as nothing more than a tool for his own pleasures.

Fuck it. There was no going back from this anyway. "Are you going to come inside me?"

"Yeah, I'm going to fucking fill you up," he growled, his sweat dripping onto my skin. He pressed his forehead with mine, forcing eye contact. "Do you want me to come inside you? Is that what you want?"

You bit your lip so hard, it almost bled, but you nodded regardless. "Y-Yeah..."

A growl sounds out from the back of his throat as he pulls out from you temporarily. He slips the condom off from his hard cock and tosses it at the nearby rubbish bin, and when he entered back inside you, he couldn't help the loud moan that resonated from his mouth.

"Fuck, baby," he whined like he was in pain. "You feel so fucking good, damn it, I should've fucked you raw like this from that start, fuck."

It didn't take long for either of you to get to that peak you were both chasing since the beginning. Your stomach tightened, your walls were beginning to constrict and flutter against Hongjoong's cock, and he felt it. Fuck, did he feel it.

"One. Come with me, baby, please," he pumped faster and harder until you couldn't take it anymore.

It triggered that delicious feeling that you've been suppressing all this time. It was slow, but when you reached it, the world around you exploded. Your own screams were all you heard, not even Hongjoong's loud growl as he erupted his thick release deep inside you.

"Y/N, fuck," he panted, thrusting a few more times until both of our orgasms had subsided. He grabbed your chin and squeezed hard as he demanded eye contact. "Look at me when you're coming, my love. Look at me."

It was over as soon as it started, but the sensation will last you for a while. You were thoroughly fucked - thoroughly used - and you liked it like that. But only because it was Hongjoong.

It felt right for him, there was nothing more in this moment that felt as right as letting go in you akin to an animal that just wanted to possess. One final pulsating from his cock has him reeling, and he wouldn't tell you just yet, but he was definitely more blown out than you were.

He pushed your hair out of your face and looked at you. "You okay, love?" Hongjoong asked with a small frown, a worried one. "I think that was the roughest we've done it so far---ah fuck, I came too much."

Your soft moan hits Hongjoong's ears as he pulls out. Thick, sticky cum immediately oozes out from your stretched out pussy and Hongjoong could feel himself salivating at the tempting scene in front of him.

You giggled as you stared at him, and even though he literally just rocked your world, you gave him a wide smile despite the haze. "Like what you see?"

Hongjoong nodded wordlessly and you couldn't help but lightly smack him back into coherence. "What? I do," he defended himself with a small pout. "You look so good covered in my cum, sweetie."

You bit your lips when he dipped a finger in your pussy, covering them in his own release, and started writing something on your stomach as if your skin was the canvas and his cum was the paint.

You soon realized that he was writing his own name. When he ran out of 'writing material,' he would dip back in for some more. Redness coated your entire neck and creeped up all the to your scalp.

"Mine," he murmured, kissing the dried up cum on your tummy that had his name. "Property of Kim Hongjoong."

He sits straighter and beckons you to do the same. You did as told without missing and beat. He grabbed your hand and gave it a small kiss before he grabbed his dress shirt and put you in it, careful when he started looping your arms on the sleeves and buttoning it until you were completely covered, your torso, at least.

He pulled you close until you were sitting on his lap, your head plush onto his chest. Aftercare with your boyfriend was always better than the sex, itself, every single time. "Thanks, Joongie," you smiled.

"Did you have fun? Was it everything you wanted?" Hongjoong asked sheepishly. "I didn't know if I was too mean or something."

"No, no, it was good," you hummed softly as his fingers played with your hair. "I suppose we need to talk."

There were a lot of things you wanted to talk about, starting from this whole ordeal. Hongjoong and you had never really explored the idea of sex outside the bedroom, much less the idea of incorporating roleplaying in it to spice things up.

Hongjoong could say the same thing. He didn't mean for it to go that far. He saw the way you twitched when you entered the room for the first time, and he couldn't help the surprise that flickered in his eyes. 

You stared at your underwear, one that Hongjoong had actually gifted you a while back, that lay next to the thongs you wanted to take home. You were about to say something, when the door jiggled, signifying that someone was trying to open it.

Hongjoong tightened his hold on your waist as the sound of keys jingling the doorknob. He held your head down until it was completely leaning on his chest as he parted your hair to cover the rest of your face.

"Hey, boss, I got the package secured---oh? Am I interrupting something?"

Even though your face was obscured, you could still see through them. A man not much taller than Hongjoong close the door behind him. He had this briefcase with him, but that's not what scared you.

"Wipe the fucking blood off your face, Woo. It's very unsightly," Hongjoong ordered, his hand massaging your tense shoulders. "You're scaring her. And stop eyeing her legs before I shoot you between the eyes."

Wooyoung's features twisted in amusement before it morphed into realization. "Ah, that's her," he chuckled, lifting a briefcase into the air, one you didn't notice he had. "Well, anywho, I'll leave this here, then."

He places the said briefcase on the floor near Hongjoong's feet before he sauntered out from where he entered from. "And tell her everything before you pussy out again," Wooyoung chuckled, holding the door.

"Get the fuck out," Hongjoong deadpanned. 

The door finally closes as a cackling laughter sounded from behind it. You finally lifted your head up and gave him a very curious look. "What's in the briefcase, Joong? W-What are you doing?"

You had so many questions and it just further confused you the more you spent time here. Hongjoong stared at you for a moment before he got you off his lap to grab the briefcase.

"Weapons," he murmured, snapping the lock open before lifting it to reveal, indeed, weapons of various kinds and sizes. You weren't privy to what they were, after all, you needed to use these to protect yourself from Yunho and your father's political enemies.

"And you're smart, sweetie, I think you can gather what's happening," he continued. He held your hand tightly in his, eyes filled with worry. "I didn't want you to find out this way, honey. I was going to tell you."

Indeed, he was right. Wooyoung calling him boss, the blood on said man's face, a briefcase full of weapons - they were all telltale signs of mafia activity. 

You didn’t want further details, but you couldn’t help but ask. “A-Are those things you handle on a daily basis?”

Hongjoong hesitated before he took a deep breath. “No,” he shook his head. “We do the usual drugs route as well. Listen, my sweet love, I-I’m sorry I never told you. I just want to have to excuse my absence a lot, and I know that’s shitty, so I’m sorry again.”

It all made sense. You genuinely loved him, but there were times where you were curious about him. There were many things he never told you, many times that he'd never tell you where he'd been. You felt a weight lift off your shoulders at the revelation.

"There's a lot of things I don't know, Joongie," you sighed. "I didn't even know my own boyfriend owned a mall, first of all."

His hold on your hand tightened. "A-Are you mad?"

You looked at him in confusion. "No, I'm not," you said, lifting your hands to kiss them. He visibly relaxes in your touch. "I was just wondering why you, my boyfriend of almost a year now, never told me, that's all."

"The same reason why you gave me a fake last name and never told me that you were the mayor's daughter," he shrugged. 

It made a lot of sense, but you weren't even mad at him to begin with, and you wanted him to know that. "About that," you chuckled sheepishly. "How did you even know about that? And since when? Mingi did a fantastic job covering my tracks."

"He did. If he weren't your father's son, I'd actually recruit him," he laughed. "And I found out by accident."

You urged him to go on. "I was going to give you this mall as a surprise, actually," he murmured. "I had Jongho look up if you had assets that would clash with the ownership, and I guess that's how."

You couldn't hold back your surprise. "You were going to do that for me?"

"Yeah, I was," he said. He paused, gathering the words he needed to say to you. "So you'd stop shoplifting."

You paled, fumbling for an excuse to tell him because as good as this all ended, it was still embarrassing for Hongjoong to actually find out this way. "I-I can explain."

"No need," he chuckled, kissing you on the forehead. "I already knew. Why do you think you've never been arrested? Your charm can only go so far, sweetheart. And your stealth is questionable."

You lightly smacked him on the chest and he took this opportunity to grab you and wrap his arms around you. "I've been bribing people for months now, for you," he mumbled. "But you need therapy, sweetie. I can't cover your ass the entire time, and I don't ever want to see you behind bars."

"I-I know, Joong," you murmured in embarrassment and pure shame. You didn't think he'd found out, and now that he does, you were so ashamed of your own skin. A question sticks out in your head. "D-Did you plan today?"

"No," he denied. "I wasn't supposed to be here. Seonghwa decided to oversee that deal we had that involved this," he tapped the briefcase. "So I stayed. Imagine my surprise when I saw you targeted my mall."

"I see," you muttered under your breath. Still, your curiosity wasn't satiated. "But why a mall, though? You're literally head mafia, you could have everything you want."

He chuckled at your question. "Because," he grabbed something from the nearby table, a small remote, then pointed it at the wall behind his office desk. "Nobody would ever suspect a mall to be another hideout."

A small 'click' could be heard and your mouth dropped when a hidden door revealed itself across you. "Holy shit, Kim Hongjoong, you're so fucking hot for this," you said without thinking. He laughed out loud at your statement. "But knowing all this, do you still want to be with me?"

Hongjoong's brows furrowed, distress clear on his face. "Of course, I do," he confirmed, voice laced with confusion. "Why?"

"Because I'm the mayor's daughter," you frowned, sighing deeply. "My dad's literally your enemy."

His face lit up in recognition with the thought and you thought that was going to mull over it, but then he leaned in and pulled you into a tender hug. "We'll figure it out, love, don't worry," was all he said before his hand smooths out the back of your hair gently. "I've known for a while, and I'm still here."

"I suppose so," you hugged back. "And for the record, I'm not mad. Not at all, so don't worry. I just want to go home right now, I'm tired."

"About that therapy," he said, still hugging you like he won't ever hug you again. It was endearing. "We have a resident doctor, Dr. Kang Yeosang. I trust him and he's a good friend of mine, would you like to consult him?"

"Do you think that would help?"

"Yes. But it's up to you, love. I can't force you if you don't want to, but I would feel better if you did. Promise me you won't do it again?"

"I promise," you said truthfully. You did need to change, after all, this wasn't morally good to begin with.

"Thank you, my love," he murmured. "So you'll do it?"

"I'll do it," you agreed, pulling away to look at him. "I'll do it for you."

He smiled, gently cupping your face. He had a thing for doing that. "Good girl," he whispered. "But do it for you, not for me. I'd still love you even if you robbed a whole damn store. After all, you already stole my heart." 

"My God, Joong, that was so dry," you giggled loudly. "I'm going to get dressed so we can go now, okay? I really need to shower."

He smirked, burying his face on your neck. "You know I meant what I said earlier."

You were confused. "What?"

He licked a stripe up your neck and it sent shivers through you. "That I want to fuck you some more after we were done here, my sweet girl. We have all night..."

You were already imagining all the things you and him would do the entire day, maybe you'd give him something in return after today.

It definitely wasn't what a sweet, good girl would do.

Dividers from: @cafekitsune ❤️❤️❤️

[ghostpunkrock]

did you all know that being alone in a city you don’t recognize is scary

[zepskies]

Restless Nights

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: After a tryst you instigated in the backseat of his Baby, you and Dean have started something new. He’s just not sure that you’re as “all in” as you claimed to be.

AN: As promised, here's a bonus one-shot to follow Maybe More Than Enough, though it can be read as a stand-alone. This is based on a request from @lacilou, one of my lovely Patreon members!

Bonus! It fulfills the @spnfanficpond monthly prompt. (Can’t give it away until the end though!)

Request: A Dean story based on the song “I Remember You” by Skid Row.

Word Count: 1.2K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, fluff, implied mentions of sex, bit of a twist ending… 

Dean woke to the sound of pouring rain hitting the roof of the bunker.

It must’ve been some torrential downpour, because it took a lot for him to hear anything of the outside world from inside this place. Good thing the old heaters kept out the January cold, too. Nothing worse than frigid rain.

Blearily he cracked his eyes open, unearthed an arm from where it was tucked under his pillow, and carefully raised his phone to check the time, trying not to let the light from the screen burn his retinas in the still dark room.

4:00 a.m.

He groaned. Goddamn it.

He turned over onto his other side to face where you should’ve been lying next to him. He frowned when he saw nothing but the sheets pulled back and a dented, empty pillow.

No matter how he fought it down, a small tinge of worry, and the beginnings of disappointment churned in his gut. His brows furrowed.

Did you regret it already?

After his first make out session with you (turned more session) in the backseat of his Baby, you two struck a tentative agreement to figure what this could be—more than hunting partners, allies, and friends. Despite the fact that you kissed him first (a fact he didn’t easily let you forget), afterwards, you’d been a little hesitant about what came next.

“We take it day by day,” he’d told you, with a sizzling kiss that stole your breath. “All I know is…this feels good.”

It felt right. You had definitely agreed with that.

Dean sighed through his nose, turning back onto his other side. It wasn’t unusual for him to be a light (restless) sleeper, but the handful of times you’d joined him in his bed had been beginning to make his nights calmer. He was actually starting to sleep through until morning.

What’s more, after years of looking into your eyes and seeing all the possibilities of what if, he was finally getting to make those images solid, and real. He could touch them, taste them, feel them under his calloused hands. He finally had you for real.

He looked past your empty spot in his bed and didn’t see your phone, or any of your rings on the nightstand. They were the first things you put on in the morning, and the last things you took off at night.

If those were gone…

His disappointment was settling high in his chest now; an ache approaching pain.

Until he heard the light sound of bare feet padding back toward the bed. Your hand slid gently up his arm, and after the surprise wore off, the corners of his lips tugged upwards. Your hair was a bit wild and frizzy. It tickled his neck and shoulder when you leaned in to kiss his cheek.

“What’s this?” you whispered, swiping two fingers between the crunch in his brows. Dean relaxed with a small smile.

“Nothin’,” he claimed. His voice was deep and rough with sleep. “Had an appointment to get to or something?”

You smiled and settled into bed, embracing him from behind. He turned onto his back and welcomed you over, with an arm curling around your waist. He rested his hand on yours when it smoothed across his chest.

Subtly glancing down, he didn’t find any of the silver you wore on the daily, including the ring with a small turquoise stone he’d bought you a couple weeks ago, on a hunt in Denver. That one, you now almost never took off.

“I put them away in a drawer,” you said, wiggling your fingers under his hand. Your hand felt dry, and a little like you'd been handling something dusty. Had you been up reading in the library again, lost track of time? “When I woke up, I saw one fell off the nightstand. Have a feeling it had something to do with the bedframe knocking against it.”

At that, Dean couldn’t contain his lazy smirk.

“My bad,” he said, sounding anything but sorry.

You laughed, shaking your head. You still laid a kiss below his shoulder before you settled back down. He gave your waist a gentle squeeze, pressing a kiss of his own to your forehead. A deep breath fell from between his lips, and his eyes closed.

A question was on the tip of his tongue. Where you were, why you got up. Was it something he could help with? Or was it one of those moments you needed to have alone, not unlike the times you gave him to settle with his thoughts, after a hunt gone sideways. If it was important, you’d level with him, wouldn’t you?

So he let it be.

In the morning, you somehow once again managed to get out of bed without him feeling it. He didn’t hear you either. Curiosity led him down the hall and glancing inside the cracked door of Sam’s room. It was empty, his running shoes gone from the side of his bed. Dean rolled his eyes.

All right, Lance.

Oh, wait, that was biking. …Whatever.

Dean’s next path inevitably took him down to the kitchen. His stomach was already percolating—in need of good coffee and (hopefully) good food.

The smell wafting from the kitchen surprised him, however. Cinnamon apples?

He turned the corner, and there he found you.

The fuck?

You looked a bit of a mess. Your hair was thrown up into a haphazard bun, and you’d stolen his apron. Though in his eyes, you made it look better, the white fabric hugging around your curves like you were Rachel Ray or something. You were frazzled when he came downstairs, but happy to see him. You beckoned him over and sat him down at the small kitchen table.

“Sweetheart, what’s going on here?” he asked, eying you curiously.

“Just stay there!” you called from the kitchen. He heard you opening the oven, cursing when you nearly dropped something.

What the hell were you doing baking before 9:00 a.m.?

He turned to ask you what was going on (and if you needed help), but before the words could come out of his mouth, you came over and carefully set down the pie in front of him. The rich aroma, the golden flaky crust, the flecks of cinnamon and glossy apples peeking out from the divots in said crust—it all had Dean’s mouth watering, and his shocked gaze fixed on the shiny pastry.

He startled a little when he felt your hands on his shoulders, sliding part of the way down his arms. You kissed the side of his head.

“Thought I wouldn’t remember, did you?” you teased. “Happy Birthday, baby.”

Dean’s throat constricted. He tried not to show it, but your gaze gentled when he finally met yours, like you were seeing through all his layers anyway. He realized then what you were probably working on last night, and he really couldn’t fucking believe it.

He’d forgotten his own birthday. Couldn’t see much use in celebrating, when year after crappy year…

But he closed a hand over yours on his shoulder, and he brought your hand to his lips.

Every word he couldn’t yet say to you was etched in that single gesture.

AN: Short and angsty sweet! lol And the monthly prompt was "pie!" 🥧 For Dean of course. 😂

Hope you guys enjoy this one! 💜

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[pedrospatch]

a safe haven l ten

Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist

summary: After a long night, Joel and Ellie take you home.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MENTIONS OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF AN INJURY SUSTAINED FROM AN ACT OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, PREGNANCY, CONVERSATIONS SURROUNDING PREGNANCY LOSS . PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. Ellie and reader are very close to each other, Joel deals with feelings of guilt, Joel and Maria make nice, Joel gives reader a bath and washes her hair, food consumption (i am just gonna apologize to my lactose intolerant folks right now, trust me i must pretend with you), both reader and Joel have some big feelings, reader mentions her deceased father, angst, soft and domestic Joel, fluff.

word count: 5k

a/n: i have not updated this series since october. :l i feel a a mixed bag of emotions updating after all this time, but most of all, i am grateful to know there are a couple of people out there who are still invested in this story. to anyone who has been waiting: truly, it means the world that you have shown me patience, support, and kindness. believe me, i am going to be seeing this story to the end, and it is all thanks to those who continue to show this lil story of mine a whole lotta love. special shoutout to the loveliest human @mrsmando who made me this beautiful mooodboard every single time i got stuck during this chapter, i looked at it and it gave me the boost of inspiration i needed. thank you mimi <33 this chapter is fairly tame, the next chapter is already in the works, and there are a couple of time jumps coming. overall, we are down to the last handful of chapters. let’s finish this story and give these two the ending they deserve, shall we?

“What the hell is taking Tommy so fucking long?” Ellie whines. She’s sprawled out on the couch with her head in your lap, and her arm draped over her eyes. Her feet are hanging, dangling over the edge of the couch at an odd angle after you’d warned her not to get muck from her sneakers on the linen fabric. Despite Joel insisting over and over that she head on back to the house, she had stubbornly refused, not wanting to leave your side. “It’s been over two hours! He’s taking fucking forever, man. What’s the fucking hold up?”

Joel bites back a sigh, masking his own impatience. Or at least, he tries. He’s grown just as restless as the kid, if not more. Much like Ellie, he’s desperate. He’s itching to take you home already, almost too anxious to watch you take that first step over his threshold, and into your new life with him and with Ellie. He aches, aches, to get you settled into the place where you would be spending the remainder of your days with one another, where you would be safe, and loved in the way you deserved to be loved—the place where he would cherish and adore you until his final breath.

“Don’t know,” he answers, his voice sounding rougher, more gruff than usual. Reaching up, he scrubs his hand down the side of his face, adding tiredly, “He might be a while longer, kiddo. It could be another hour, could be more. Like I already told you, s’probably best if you just go on and head back to the house without us, alright?”

“No. I’m not walking out that fucking door unless she’s with me.” She pauses and pulls her arm away from her face for a moment, just long enough to throw a teeny glare his way. “Unless you’re both with me. The three of us go home together, or it’s no fucking deal. Got it?”

He shakes his head in utter exasperation.

“Ellie, we’ll be right here down the fuckin’ road—”

Her hand shoots out and she flips him off.

Just when he’s about to chastise her, he stops himself, clamping his mouth shut. It’s pointless.

Kid’s too goddamn hard headed for her own good, and Joel knows he’s just wasting his breath with her.

“I’m sure he’ll be back soon,” you reassure them both, weaving your fingers through her hair to scratch at her scalp in an effort to soothe her. “Right, Joel?”

He meets your exhausted, worn down gaze from where he’s standing across the room, and his heart lurches in his chest. As the guilt begins creeping in, he’s forced to look away. He can’t imagine the living hell you had been through over the last twenty four hours alone. And the worst part about it was the realization that last night, while he was fast asleep in bed just a couple of houses up the road, that fucking bastard had his belt wrapped around your throat.

Joel feels sick to his fucking stomach all over again.

Horrifying, vividly real images of you helplessly trapped underneath Luke scratching and clawing at the leather around your neck with trembling fingers, struggling to breathe oxygen into your burning lungs as he tugged it tighter and tighter through the buckle flash in his mind, a gruesome nightmare turned into reality.

Exactly how far had Luke taken it?

Until you had grown too weak to keep fighting?

Until you almost lost complete consciousness?

Until he noticed the life threatening to leave your eyes?

Is that when he had finally stopped pulling on the belt?

Joel shudders, a bitter taste climbing up his throat as it sinks in. He could have lost you—and his unborn child.

This shouldn’t have happened.

He shouldn’t have let you walk away that night.

This wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t let you walk away from him that night.

“Joel,” you say his name, quiet and weary.

His head snaps back in your direction and he glances at you, almost missing the subtle shake of your head. It is a silent warning telling him not to go there, though you know by the tight clench of his jaw it’s too late for that.

Joel makes the futile attempt to hide it, but he sees it written all over your face—you know what he’s thinking because you know him like the back of your own hand, and you just know he’s placing all of the blame for what happened to you on his own shoulders.

But can you honestly fault him for that?

How can you expect him not to feel like he is somehow responsible for this? Just how the hell is he supposed to make himself believe he hadn’t failed you?

Joel promised—he had fucking promised you—that he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you. He had sworn to keep you safe, made a vow to protect you from Luke, but here you are, your soft, delicate flesh marred with the painful evidence of yet another one of his failures.

And it was all because he had let you walk away on that fucking night.

He should have done something.

Even if it meant running the risk of you never speaking to him again—even if you never forgave him, spent the rest of your life angry and hating him for going against your wishes. He should have something.

“Joel—”

“Be right back,” he mutters, lightly shaking his head.

Shoving away from the doorframe he’s leaning against, Joel pivots on the heel of his boot and starts down the hallway. He walks into the kitchen where he finds Maria standing at the counter, tapping her fingers against the smooth, laminated oakwood as she waits for the coffee she’d offered him a few minutes ago to finish brewing. She’d offered to whip up a quick supper, but food was the last thing on everyone’s mind.

“Tommy’s been gone for a couple hours now. Girls are startin’ to get real tired of just sittin’ around waitin’ for him to come back,” he tells her, exhaling the sigh he’d held back in the living room. “What do you think could be keepin’ him so long?”

With her back still to him, Maria reminds him, “Well, he did mention he was going to round up the council and get them together for an emergency meeting.” She lets out a sigh that matches his own—it’s been a long night for her, too. When the last drop of dark roast drips into the glass pot, she carefully takes the pot by the plastic handle and pours the steaming coffee into a speckled, white and blue ceramic mug. “Do you take it with milk and sugar?”

“No thanks, that’s alright,” he declines as politely as he can.

“I also have cinnamon if you’d like?”

“Plain black’s just fine.” He gives her a nod of gratitude when she hands it to him. “Thank you. And I don’t just mean the coffee, but for, uh—for bandagin’ up my hand for me, too.” He clocks the brief look of surprise on her face and almost laughs. He doesn’t blame her for being taken aback, because truth be told, so is he. Since he’d met Maria, he had known she didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him. There was something of a mutual understanding between them, a silent agreement they had made to keep each other at arm’s length, to only interact when it was absolutely necessary.

Never did he think he would be standing in her kitchen, thanking her for patching up his hand, and for making him a cup of coffee out of the kindness of her heart.

His brother wouldn’t believe it.

“Don’t mention it.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she leans back against the counter. “How’s it feel, by the way?”

“S’fine,” he replies, shrugging. “Nothin’ I can’t handle.”

There’s a momentary silence. A taste of tension lingers over their heads, and he knows at one point or another, he’s going to have to address the affair, the very reason everything had unfolded in such a terrible manner.

Guess now’s as good a time as fuckin’ any, he thinks to himself with an inward sigh.

Joel lightly clears his throat. “Listen, since we’ve got a minute alone, just the two of us, I was wonderin’ if, uh—if we could talk ‘bout somethin’? If that’s alright?”

“Of course.” Maria gives him the floor.

“I know that she—” Pausing, he shuffles from the heel of one boot to the other, his ears burning hot. He had known it wouldn’t be an easy conversation to have, but he underestimated just how uncomfortable it would be, regardless of what she already knew. “I know she told you and Tommy all ‘bout us, and ‘bout our relationship. See, the thing is, the first time I saw her—”

Again, Joel stops, the burning sensation now radiating, spreading from his ears to his face and down his neck, flushing his skin a deep, deep shade of pink. Unable to meet his sister in law’s gaze, he glances down into his mug, as if he will somehow find the right words to say somewhere in the depths of his coffee.

“It was never my intention, y’know,” he finally says after a minute. “Goin’ after a married woman. I swear, I never meant to fall for her. I just fuckin’ did. I think I might’ve fallen for her long before I even met her,” he confesses. He feels himself darken to a shade of maroon under her curious stare. “And somehow, for reasons I ain’t all too sure I’ll ever understand, she fell for me too.”

Maria raises an eyebrow at him. “Look, I’m not judging you, Joel,” she assures him, shaking her head. “If that’s what you’re thinking. I’m not judging her, either.”

He looks up at her, blurting out, “You’re not?”

She moves her hands to cradle her swollen middle. “Do I wish you two had handled everything differently?” she answers her own query with a nod of her head. “Oh, I’m sure we all do. But I’ve known her for a long time now. I know the kind of woman she is. And I’m starting to see the kind of man you are.”

“And what kinda man is that, Maria?”

He waits without the slightest clue as to what she could possibly say.

“Since you came back to Jackson, I’ve chosen to keep my distance from you—but make no mistake, I’ve been watching you like a hawk since day one. Waiting for any signs of trouble. Waiting for you to fuck up. Waiting for you to give me a good reason to throw your ass out of this community because I didn’t trust you. Not after all the things I was told about you.”

He snorts. “You goin’ somewhere with this?”

“You are not who I thought you were,” Maria admits, smiling wryly. “I’ve gotten to see a different side of you. You pull your weight around here by doing your job and doing it well. You stay out of trouble—for the most part. And more importantly, I have seen the way that you’ve stepped up to be a father figure to Ellie. It takes a good man to do that, Joel.”

“Think that’s the nicest fuckin’ thing you’ve ever said to me,” he muses, setting his mug down on the counter. “I stepped up because I love her. I love them both. Those two, they’re the best parts of me. They’re the reasons I keep goin’ and now I’ve got another reason on the way.”

Maria smiles, but it vanishes as quickly as it appears.

Catching her hesitance, Joel asks, “What? What is it?”

“What comes next is not going to be easy,” she warns him, lowering her voice. Even with the living room a fair distance from the kitchen, she doesn’t want to run the risk of you overhearing her. “For as hard as we’re going to try to contain the fire, it will spread, and everyone in this town will find out about everything—including the affair. People are going to talk, and believe me, they’re going to have a whole lot to say about it, Joel.”

He can’t help but roll his eyes at her.

“Think I can handle some fuckin’ gossip, Maria.”

“I know you can. But I’m not sure if she can,” Maria tells him, quietly. “It worries me. She’s been through a lot in just one night alone. I don’t want her stressing anymore than she already has. She is in a very delicate stage of her pregnancy right now, Joel. If she’s not careful, she could have a miscarriage. She had one about two years ago when her father became sick—” Observing his lack of a reaction, she realizes, “You knew that already.”

“Yeah,” he sighs. He knows where she’s going with this. “I did. She told me ‘bout it.”

“It makes her chances of having another one higher—”

Joel doesn’t even allow himself to think of it happening to you again. “I get it,” he interjects, trying not to sound too curt. “I’ll make sure she takes it real easy, alright?”

Lifting a hand off her belly, she reaches out and takes a hold of his forearm, gripping it tightly.

“Promise me something, Joel. Promise me that you’ll look after her,” Maria pleads him, gently. “Please. After everything she’s been through—I need you to promise me that she’s going to be in good hands with you.”

He nods. Without thinking, he places his hand over hers in an unexpected token of affection and reassurance. “You have my word, Maria. I’ll take good care of her.”

She gives his arm a grateful squeeze, then glances over his shoulder at the clock on the wall. “It’s getting pretty late. We don’t know how much longer Tommy’s going to be with the council. Why don’t we just go ahead and call it a night?” she suggests. “We can all get together first thing in the morning at your place to talk about it.”

“Yeah, good idea,” he agrees. “She really needs to rest.”

Maria gives his arm another squeeze. 

“Go on then, Joel. Take your girls home.”

“Finally!” Ellie exclaims with a dramatic flail of her arms as she shoves through the front door.

“Alright, kiddo. Get your behind upstairs and into the shower,” Joel instructs her, flipping on the lights in the foyer. “Y’smell like fuckin’ horse shit.”

She lifts the collar of her shirt to her nose, takes a whiff, and makes a face. “Yeah, I won’t argue with you there,” she mutters. She toes off her dirty sneakers and leaves them beside the door before dashing up the staircase, taking two steps at a time.

He shouts after her, “And don’t use up all the hot—”

“Yeah, yeah, I fucking know the rules, dude!”

Moments later, you both hear the shower going.

“Little shit,” he grumbles.

You exhale an amused huff through your nose.

Joel withdraws his arm from around your shoulders and reaches for your hand, lacing your fingers together. “C’mon, darlin’.” He guides you up the stairs and down the hallway into his bedroom where he switches on the light before proceeding to lead you over to his dresser. “I’ve got a bunch of shirts in this top drawer here,” he says. Dropping your hand, he pulls it open for you and gestures to it with a jut of his chin as he takes a step backwards, moving out of the way. “Go ahead and pick one to sleep in tonight. Want you to be comfortable, so help yourself to whichever one you want, sweet girl.”

Nodding, you begin to rummage through the drawer, unaware of the moment he slips away. You reach for a t-shirt, but then a plaid green flannel catches your eye. You pluck it from the drawer, running your fingers over the soft, warm fabric. “Is it alright if I wear—?” You turn around, stopping mid sentence when you realize he’s no longer standing behind you. Puzzled, you follow the sound of running water into the bathroom where you find him kneeling beside the tub. “Joel? What are you doing?”

“Runnin’ you a bath.”

You notice the bloodied bandage beside him on the tile floor. “Joel, are you serious?” you scold him. “Maria just patched your hand up for you.”

“S’okay, peach. I can rewrap it when we’re done.” Joel sticks his injured hand under the faucet to check the temperature, the cold water soothing his cuts. Once it turns warm, then hot, he pulls out his hand, waiting for the tub to fill halfway before shutting the faucet off and rising to his feet. “C’mere, sweetheart.” He rolls the sleeves of his shirt up to his forearms, then beckons for you with both of his hands. “Let’s get you washed up.”

You remain standing by the door. “Joel, you don’t have to do this for me.”

“I know.”

“I’m capable of washing myself—”

“Yeah, I know that too,” he says, chuckling. “S’only fair, darlin’. Don’t you think?”

That’s when it hits you—how this moment is mirroring that night you had cleaned Joel up after you and Ellie had brought him home from the clinic with an injured shoulder. He allowed you to take care of him, and now, he was looking to do the same for you. And all you had to do was let him.

“But your hand—”

“Will be just fine,” Joel persists, stubbornly. “It’s nothin’ but a few cuts and scrapes. C’mon—or else I’m gonna march right over there and get you myself, peach.”

Knowing Joel, you certainly wouldn’t put it past him to throw you over his should and carry you to the bathtub.

“Fine,” you relent with a small sigh of defeat.

Setting his shirt down on the sink, you slowly walk over towards him and whirl around, letting him help you out of your knitted cardigan. You finish undressing yourself, inhaling a deep breath as you muster up the courage to turn back around and face him—when you finally do, it feels like a punch to the gut to see the heartbreak in his dark brown eyes, the subtle tremble of his bottom lip. You don’t have to look at yourself in the mirror to know it looks about a hundred times worse when you’re not wearing clothes.

Keeping your arms down at your sides, you fight every urge to cover yourself up. You’ve never felt so fucking vulnerable.

Clearing his throat, Joel holds out his hand. “C’mere.”

You accept it, and he helps you into the tub.

“How’s the water? S’not too hot, is it?”

You shake your head and he leans forward, kissing your temple so sweetly, your eyes flutter closed.

He washes your hair first, then takes a clean washcloth, lathering it up with a bar of milk and honey soap—the same soap he would smell on your skin all those nights. Admittedly, Joel preferred castile soap, but switched it when he found himself missing you during those weeks you were apart from him, when he needed the comfort of your scent. He is gentle with you, so gentle, as if he’s afraid you’ll shatter into pieces in his hands.

As he lightly drags the washcloth up your back and around your neck, you stiffen, prompting him to freeze too. “Fuck. Baby, did I hurt you?” he asks, and you hear the slight panic in his tone.

“No,” you say quickly, desperately trying to swallow the lump rising in your throat. “No, you didn’t hurt me. It’s just—” Every overwhelming emotion slams into you all at once, and you can’t seem to figure out which one to feel first. Humiliation? Fear? Relief?

The water sloshes around you as you pull your legs up to your chest and wrap your arms around your knees, giving yourself permission to feel them all. Bowing your head, you begin to sob quietly, hoping that Ellie, who is just down the hallway, won’t hear you crying again.

Joel says nothing. Washcloth still clutched in his hand, he leans forward over the edge of the tub and wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, or at least, as close as the barrier between the two of you will allow him.

“Joel,” you choke, trying to push him off. “Stop it. Your clothes, they’re getting all wet.”

“Hush. Don’t fuckin’ care ‘bout my clothes,” he croaks, and for a second, you swear he’s about to cry too. But he doesn’t. He holds himself strong. Tugging you closer against his chest, he buries his nose into your soaking wet hair, whispering his reassurance. “You’re okay, baby. You’re safe, my sweet girl. I’ve got you, alright?”

He pulls back slightly, dipping his hand into the water, placing it on your lower belly.

You look down, your eyes glazing over his bruised and battered knuckles. Proof that Joel Miller really would do anything for you.

“I know you do,” you say, softly. “I know you’ve got me, Joel.”

A while later, you’re dried, dressed, and composed. You follow Joel out of the bathroom and back into his room, where he has you take a seat on the bed. Noticing you had missed a button on his flannel shirt, he does it for you. He plants a kiss on the top of your head and says, “Give me a minute while I change.”

He peels off his wet clothes, being careful so as not to further agitate his sore, injured hand. After changing into a pair of gray sweatpants and an old, faded black t-shirt, he turns around only to find you’re sitting in bed underneath the covers.

“Sorry,” you apologize with a nervous chuckle as you rest your back against the headboard. “It just looked so warm and cozy—and it smells like you. I couldn’t resist making myself comfortable.”

Joel pads over to the side of the bed. He leans over, planting one hand on either side of you as he dips his head and brushes his lips against yours. “Ain’t got no reason to apologize, baby,” he assures you in a gentle murmur. “This is your bed now too, peach. This is your room. This is your home. Alright?”

Home.

You’re home.

He touches the tip of his nose to yours, and then draws himself back up to full height. “There’s somethin’ that I’ve gotta take care of downstairs, peach. I won’t be too long,” he promises.

It’s almost midnight. Joel goes about the kitchen and he prepares you the quickest meal that he can think of. He plates the sandwich he’d thrown together and pours a glass of cow’s milk—he’s always sure to keep a pint of it in the refrigerator to make the kid her oatmeal in the mornings.

He heads back upstairs, only to find that while he had been gone, Ellie had joined you, making herself a little too comfortable on his side of the bed. He stands there at the door, watching the two of you.

“Hey, so is it true babies can hear stuff while they’re in there?” Ellie questions you, curiously.

“Mhm,” you reply with a nod. “They can hear music, for example. Voices—”

“Voices?” She smushes her face into your stomach and he hears a muffled, “Hey, dude!”

You giggle. “Ellie, I think it’s still a little too early.”

“When do you think it’ll be able to hear me?”

“I’m not too sure. In a few months, maybe?”

Ellie lifts her head, humming. “You know, I bet there’s baby books in the library,” she tells you as she sits up. “I’ll have Dina help me look for one tommor—oh shit.” She stares at you with wide eyes. “Dina! How are you going to tell her and Talia about Luke?”

Joel grimaces. He hadn’t thought of that, either.

“I—I’m not too sure.”

“You have to fucking tell them. Dina has to know about him. She has to know what a piece of shit he is, and so does Talia.”

Sensing your discomfort, Joel steps into the bedroom and intervenes before she can say another word. “Ellie, get to bed. S’late.”

“But—”

“Don’t make me tell you again,” he warns her, sternly.

She huffs, rolling her eyes. “Fine.” She climbs off the bed and on her way out, she eyes the plate in his hand. “That chicken?”

“Turkey. And it ain’t for you, it’s for her. So scram, kid.”

“Couldn’t have made me one while you were at it, old man?”

“Ellie, if you don’t get outta here right now—”

“Alright!” Ellie holds her hands up. “I’m leaving. Jesus.”

She disappears, closing the door behind her.

“Pain in my ass,” Joel mumbles, shaking his head as he walks over and carefully perches himself beside you. He hands you the plate. “Here, darlin’.”

“Joel, I appreciate this, but I’m really not very hungry.”

“Maybe not, but y’gotta eat,” he insists. “Baby needs it.”

Thankfully, you accept it without further protest.

“I’ll have Ellie get your things tomorrow,” Joel states as you’re eating. “Maria can go along with her since she knows the house. They’ll get your clothes and whatever else you might need outta there.”

“My father’s belongings.” You accidentally talk through a mouthful of turkey and bread. Swallowing, you tell him, “I have some boxes of his stuff in the basement. But they’re way too heavy for either of them to carry.”

“I’ll take care of that for you.” He reaches up, wiping a breadcrumb from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. “I can ask Tommy to give me a hand. Don’t you worry, peach. We won’t leave your dad’s things behind, I swear it.”

Relieved, you shoot him a grateful look, then polish off the last few bites of your sandwich.

“Here,” he says, offering you the glass of milk. “Figured it’s good for you, and good for the baby. Y’know, since it’s got calcium and…stuff.” He shrugs sheepishly, no clue as to what he’s talking about. “Vitamins, right?”

Nodding, you grab the glass and take a reluctant sip.

“You hate milk,” Joel realizes, raising an eyebrow.

“I do,” you admit with a laugh. “But you’re right. It’s good for both me and the baby, so cheers.” And with that, you somehow force the entire glass down.

He sets the dishes aside on the nightstand, figuring he can take them downstairs first thing in the morning.

Without bothering to rebandage his hand like he’d told you he would, Joel turns off the lights and climbs into bed with you. “All those nights wishin’ I could bring you home,” he muses as you curl into his side. “Wantin’ nothin’ more than to hold you in my arms in this bed. In our bed.” His arm slips around your shoulders, a laugh rumbling through his chest. “Almost doesn’t feel real, darlin’.”

Tilting your head, you nuzzle your nose into the scruff of his beard, prompting him to laugh again. Then, he remembers his conversation with Maria, and his smile fades from his face, his lips pursing together.

You catch the sudden shift in his demeanor.

“Joel? What’s the matter?”

“M’fine, baby. It’s just—” He hesitates. “From this point forward, I need you to let me handle things.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t want you gettin’ all stressed out, alright? I don’t want to run the risk of you—” He’s unsure of how to say it.

“Of me losing the baby,” you finish for him, quietly.

Joel winces, knowing he was wandering into sensitive territory. “Yeah. I—I really don’t want that to happen.” He pauses. “Maria mentioned to me you’re in a delicate stage. When do you reckon you’ll stop—how long until you don’t gotta worry ‘bout it?”

“After twelve weeks, my risk isn’t as high. If I make it to the second trimester in six weeks, then my chances of having another miscarriage are lower.”

Though you speak calmly, he clocks your anxiousness.

You’re worried, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t fucking worried out of his mind too.

Being a father at his age wasn’t ideal, but he wanted this child. It was part of him, and more importantly, it was a part of you.

Joel squeezes your shoulders. “I only ask ‘cause I was thinkin’ that, y’know, once we get to that point, maybe I can go ahead and start buildin’ the baby’s crib.”

“You’re going to build the crib?”

He nods. “And the highchair too. I can even make you a diaper changin’ table if y’want one.”

“Joel.” You can’t help but chuckle. “Our worlds were just turned completely upside down. You just found out that I’m pregnant, and you’re already thinking about building furniture? Aren’t we getting a little ahead of ourselves?”

“Hey, those things take a whole ‘lotta time,” he says in defense of himself. “Besides, winter’s right around the corner and I don’t wanna be out in the garage freezin’ my fuckin’ ass off. If I can get a head start now, I can have them all done in the spring by the time the baby comes.”

You fall silent.

“What’s on your mind?”

“I’m really scared of losing it,” you confess. “When I first took that pregnancy test, I wanted nothing more for it to be negative. Now, I’m terrified I won’t make it past my first trimester again. I really don’t want to lose it. I want this baby, Joel.”

He turns his head, meeting your eyes in the silver light shining through the lace curtains over his window. “S’why you’ve gotta let me handle things, darlin’. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“C’mere, my sweet girl.” Joel presses his lips to yours, murmuring against them, “I love you.”

His declaration comes with natural ease.

And so does yours.

“I love you too, Joel.”

[shycloudkitty]

You're too sweet for a monster like me

Summary : Leon's drowning his pain and suffering with whiskey. But you might be his true salvation.

Pairing : Vendetta Leon! × Fem Reader (A little bit of pre vendetta)

Tags : Established relationship, self deprecating talk (Leon does with himself), mostly angst with little comfort. (But it's there) and alcoholism

A/N: Update on why I disappeared for a while. It's because things got rocky with my academics and I recently broke up :( But not to worry I'm not gonna let a little heartbreak set me back.

And for this fic I'm thinking it to be a little pre vendetta Leon, like the incidents that led to him having depression in Vendetta.

It's gonna a be short fic, may or may not write a part 2 about this. Let me know!

WC: 1.6K

Sound of whiskey getting poured in a glass fills the emptiness of the living room he was in. After all this was all he could do, the only thing he had control in his poor pathetic life.

One mission after another after another. Leon was getting tired after endless fights with the B.O.Ws, corrupt governments in countless countries that were ‘speculated’ to have a new damned virus or a bioweapon war waiting to happen.

And every damn time he was supposed to deal with it, he was supposed to do the government’s dirty work for them, he was supposed to fight every goddamned ugly creature created by the worst of mankind, he had to carry out every gut wrenching decision that government instructed him to do, everytime he was the last man standing and he was never gonna get out of this cycle.

Yes, that's right. He was just a little puppet for the government that was supposed to fight B.O.Ws for them. Someone who was blackmailed into this life and do their bidding, by of course the government.

At first, he tried to take it positively and thought of how many people he could save like he always wanted to and at such a large scale. Something he was extremely passionate about since he was a kid… saving people's lives, protecting them. That's why he wanted to be a cop and now that he was a government ‘special’ agent he would be able to do more.

But he definitely didn't expect the destruction those missions would cause on his own self too, taking every piece of his humanity, every last hope he seemed to have, gone & extinguished in the flames of every bioweapon war he was called in. He definitely didn't expect and could never have anticipated what he was getting thrown into.

When will this cycle end?

A question he thought every second of his life but never had the answer. Forced to play hero each time and with no real win, fighting was like choosing between the lesser of two evils.

He was just a weapon, just a pawn that the government moved each time when they wanted to achieve something. And why would a pawn's life matter in the grand scheme of things? A pawn was created just to be shot down. And that's what he was.

While he was lost in thoughts and his whiskey all alone. He almost missed the soft voice whispering his name, such a gentle voice calling out to him. Feeling a soft hand on his back, trying to get his attention. He turned back to see who it was… and there was the reason. You.

Soft eyes looking at him with a sympathetic smile asking him how he was or that he had eaten anything today?

Leon slowly shook his head to get out of the fog clouding his brain and blinked a few times to focus on you.

Leon's words slurred as he spoke “What?”

“I asked how are you doing today?” Your soft words of concern clearing his brain fog better, making him aware of his surroundings and himself.

Leon blinks once more and looks down at his whiskey and then back at you. “... Better than yesterday.” A lie, he was the same as yesterday.

He could see her lips twitch in a small smile as she sat down besides him on the couch and said. “You're a terrible liar when drunk…”

Leon managed a soft huff at her reply. It almost weirded him out that you could see through him, but he guessed that's what happens when you have someone who cares for you. Leon looked away, sighing deeply and replied. “I'm just tired…”

Leon heard a soft sigh, feeling the soft couch dip a bit as she shifted closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder and gently held his hand. “Leon… I'm always here for you, you know that right? I may not be able to give solid advice to you, but I'm a good listener.”

You could feel him relax under your touch a bit and saw him look your way from the corner of his way, still not facing you. “...I know.”

“So, you know I'm also worried about you?”

Leon winces at that, the last thing he wanted was you to worry about his pathetic self. You already have done so much for him just staying by his side through all this. Hell, you were an angel just for putting up with him and actually loving him. You weren't supposed to be worried about him and you definitely weren't supposed to fall in love with him.

Leon clears his throat and shifts a little bit away from you although he didn't let go of your hand and says. “I…It's nothing.”

You couldn't help but frown at how closed off he was being for the last few days, you understand that his last mission was rough although he never went into details about his missions with you. And you knew he needed space to process all of it but you hated the way he was ‘processing’ his loss. Drinking, lost in thoughts and closing off when you tried to get close. It was hard for both of you.

You slowly shifted towards him again, getting close to him once again. Gently taking the whiskey glass from his hands and moving it away from him. “Leon…”

He looks back at you and he looks…lost. A raging storm of emotions present in those pretty blue eyes of his that you loved so much. “I know it's hard Leon and I'm happy to give you space to think but the way you're doing it… is making me worried.”

You took a deep breath and continued. “Is there anything I can do to help? I can't… see you like this.”

He closes his eyes and deeply sighs once more, years of weariness and defeat visible on his face. He shakes his head and whispers. “You're not supposed to worry about me…”

Leon feels soft hands cup his face gently as she replies. “Can't help it. It sorta happens when you care.”

Leon opens his eyes to see you staring at him with a soft warm smile, your faces close. He presses his forehead against yours for a while trying to calm his anxious thoughts. He then pulls you closer by your waist, pulling you in a hug and burying his face in your neck and taking a deep breath. Your scent filling his senses and offering some peace that he needed to ground himself.

He often wondered what he did to deserve you? Did God or whatever the power universe has, take pity on him and decide to gift him an angel? You were always so sweet, so gentle with him, loving, caring, understanding. You were his sunshine and he couldn't look away. All he could do was soak up in the warmth that you always seemed to radiate everywhere you stepped.

You were perfect and it scared the hell out of him.

He was scared that one day you will see the monster he actually was. That one day you will wake up and see him for who he was, the things he had to do to make a living and think what a disgusting monster he was, what he truly was… not some ‘Hero’ or the ‘Golden boy’, just some monster and a weapon crafted to perfection to destroy the undead. And he hopes that day never comes.

He continues to hug you tightly to himself, his face buried in your neck as he takes deep breaths to calm himself. He then softly whispered. “You smell…like daffodils.”

The sudden comment made you chuckle a bit and kissed his cheek, hugging him tightly. “Yeah, I bought a new perfume today, didn't think you would notice. Does it smell bad?”

“... No, it smells good. It suits you.” And sighed deeply. He then whispered. “You're too sweet for me. Don't know what you see in me.”

You turned to face him and kissed his cheek. “don't say that… I see that you're a hard working, resilient person who keeps going even when the odds are stacked up against him. Whatever it is that you're going through… you can pass through it.”

He turned his head to face you, his expression softening into something more vulnerable as you say that. Clearly touched by your words. Feeling a lump rise in his throat as he closes his eyes once more and exhales shakily.

You were so…innocent. You had no idea what was going on in his head or what actually he turned into. You also had no idea about the vicious but repetitive cycle he was in.

Opening up about this life of his…would ruin such a sweet and innocent thing like you, he was sure of that. He knew you weren't a kid or anything or that you never faced hardships in your life. But this…he can't tell you about what he faces out there, what kind of ugliness his line of work shows him everyday, the dark side of humanity.

He can't taint the only ray of sunshine he ever found in his life.

You look up at him with that sweet dazzling smile, thinking he was someone ‘great’. But reality couldn't be farther from the truth.

Hello everyone! Long time no see, I'm sorry for my disappearance. I promise I will try to be regular now, I know this was short I will probably try to make a part 2? Idk but this was mostly written for my creativity to start flowing again. If you liked it please like it and reblog. I would be very grateful 😊

Fun fact: Daffodils are a sign of hope!

Thank you for reading this, hope you have a good day!

-Bella

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

[We went on shopping (it didn’t go well)] - TF141*F!Reader

not a chapter actually just a rambling, it's kinda messy and not my style imo, pls feel free to skip this etc. might rewrite this shit when I have time since I’m busy with my job these days and I just accidentally sliced my thumb open making it difficult to type, hence not much to provide sorry :( and the weird stranger incident in the latter part did happen irl damn it’s creepy af, but I was the one telling them to fuck off tho (they harassing my cute friend RAGE)

Summary: You sigh when it's the fifth time someone fights in your poor tea shop this month. You just open it two months ago, in an area ruled by mafia called '141'. Maybe you should find their boss and give them money or what to stop the bullshit keeps happening in your shop. (well, here they come)

Mafia!TF141*F!Reader

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

After your car graduates from its car life in about a week, congratulations, the poor shelf accompanies you since your college life is finally undone, fragments spreading across the floor making you shout Mama and mourn for its graduation.

You don’t have a car right now, so when Gaz offers to drive you to buy a new shelf, you agree to his suggestion without a second thought. Yet when the day comes and you open the car door, only to be greeted by the wide smile of Soap and Gaz, you almost slam the door close in reflex.

“Okay, but why do all of you come together? this isn’t an elementary school field trip!” You gawk at them when you squeeze in the car.

“Sounds fun, how can ye not tell us?” 

“Gaz I thought you could seal your lips!”

“Sorry love, Ghost exchanged it with some goodies.”

Oh yeah, Ghost is sitting in the driver’s seat.

Wait, he’s sitting in the driver's seat?

“Goddamnit—“ Your scream dies out on your tongue when said man puts his foot down. 

Ghost does a good job at providing you the same experience as riding a rollercoaster, glad that you didn’t throw up in the car and arrived at the warehouse without dying. If he's your Uber driver, you will give him five stars and block the hell out of him. 

You hop out of the car and walk to the door. As the automatic door parts after sensing your presence, you feel much better when the cold air of the store. Nice a.c. is one of the important features of a nice store, and you already built a fondness for the warehouse with how refreshing the chilly air is inside.

The first area welcoming you is food. Not bad, 6 out of 10 if it needs to be precise. Gaz pushes the cart and follows you as you saunter to the aisle with cereals.

“Oh, they have my favorite brand.” You murmur to him as your eyes travel across the price tag.

Wait, you must still be dizzy because no way it’s 30% cheaper than the same one you just bought from the supermarket.

“Kyle, it says it’s 3 pounds, right?!” pointing at the tag, your voice raises a whole eight-tone with excitement.

“Yes?”

“Good.”

5 boxes of cereal are added to the cart. 

Actually, 9.9 out of 10 for this place, you fix the evaluation as you watch Gaz putting some of those ten bags of chocolate Ghost and Soap dump into the cart back on the shelf, and as a little revenge to Gaz for letting the other two men join the trip without you knowing, you choose to turn a blind eye when you spot Ghost sneaking all of them back in the cart.

Not forgetting the primary goal for today, you go straight to the furniture area after letting Soap throw five packs of gummy bears in the cart and convincing Ghost not to get a cup of tea from the random tea shop. You’ll make a much better one for him when you get home — you coo when he stares at you with unhappy eyes not covered by the mask, glad that he seems to accept the idea, so he huffs and lets you drag him and Soap out of the food area.

“You should buy this.” 

“Ghost I don’t need a green shelf in my shop thank you.”

“Then ye should buy this bonnie!”

“That’s not even a goddamn shelf, Soap.”

“How about this?” 

Your eyes brighten up when Gaz shows you a wooden shelf, it’s stripped-back, with not many decorations, but it surely will fit wonderfully into your store with its aesthetic vibes and high functionality, thus you pick up your phone to type down the product number immediately.

“Oh my, Kyle, you’re the best.”

and you’re too busy typing the numbers down that you don’t notice him shooting the others a taunt of victory.

The last area before the cashier’s counter sets a bookshop. You don’t plan on buying books, but you indeed need to go to the bathroom, so you dismiss yourself and tell them to look around before you’re done.

Why are the bathrooms always hidden in a bloody long hallway? What if someone can’t hold back during their way? Your footsteps echo through the corridor as your mind starts hitting you with a fresh and unnecessary question, glad that you aren’t that urgent though, so you’re able to get to the destination without wetting your pants.

Washing your hands, you step back to the hallway again, but you yelp in surprise when you bump into someone.

“Sorry!” You nod at the man and start heading back to the bookstore.

but it’s weird, the man you just bump into walks so close to you, that you suddenly realize he’s just a step behind you.

Hey, don’t panic, might just coincidence, you try to tell yourself as you make another step.

“Hey, lovely.” Okay, it’s not a coincidence, fucking hell. You curse when his hand touches your shoulder and stops you.

“Sorry for bumping into you, Sir. Anything that I can help?”

“No, I’m waiting for you to separate from the blokes for a while can’t ask for your phone number when they surround you like dogs.”

“I don’t give strangers my number, sorry.” You try to leave, but the man’s hand grabs your shoulder forcefully preventing you from moving.

“Hey, give us a chance yeah? I’m sure we will have some nice time together.”

“I don’t fucking know you!”

Prying off his hand, you turn and start walking fast, almost running when you hear the stranger’s footsteps coming towards you.

Fuck fuck fuck, you haven’t run with such desperation in years, last time must be high school.

“Who the fok are ye arsehole?”

The tears prickling in your eyes when you hear Soap’s voice ringing in your ears before you feel a pair of warm hands drag you behind him.

“Ghost and Soap will deal with him, let’s go.”

Adrenaline pumping through your body finally subsides when Soap and Ghost reappear from the hallway, you don’t want to know what happened to the stranger, maybe hope they’re still alive and in one piece so you won’t involve yourself in another chaos, 

“I think it’s time to go home, Kyle. Is it okay?”

“Of course, wanna grab some food before we leave?”

“I guess Ghost already bought sufficient chocolate for us.”

A burst of laughter catches your attention whilst Gaz looking at the cart with bags of chocolate stuffing under your cereals with disbelief, and a smile crawls back to your lips as you look at Ghost slamming his forehead against a lower door frame and Soap laughing over him.

They aren’t that bad, maybe, or they reserve the remnants of tenderness for you, you’re not sure whether is correct, but at least they have your back when you need them, and that’s enough for you to stop exploring the answer for now.

“Oh.” A book gets knocked off when you shift to stand up. Turning around to pick it up, you have a good look at the shelf behind your seat.

Your eyes dart from ‘Today’s recommendation’ to the book within your grasp.

‘Surrounded by idiots — by Thomas.’

You will rate this recommendation 10 out of 10 for sure.

After insisting on paying yourself and shooing the men off, you take out your card and place it on the scanner.

‘Insufficient balance :( please try again’

You frown when the machine shoves you a nuh-uh, and you open the bank app to check your balance.

So you overspent 10 pounds huh? What a shame to your title for being a successfully financially broken adult. Which link loses and makes you make a wrong shopping decision? 

you scan the list of items with sharp vision until you land your eyes on a product.

Surrounded by idiots - £ 10.61

Ah.

a/n: thx for reading :D sorry it's messy and unlike my previous writings :( hope I can have time to write again btw Price went on business trip so he's missing everything

tag list :D - @blackhawkfanatic @nexthyperfix @danielle143 @goodbyegh0st @reaperxxxxzz @kaoyamamegami @imyprice @cod-z @poppingaround @live-for-fluff @masterstr0ke @mall0ww @ghostysloot @hxnneydew @cutiecusp @beigechristmastree @rejectedbytheempty @lupikekee @hotvinimon @whitetiger846