#bang Chan mafia au

[stay3096]

Hey guys!

i need help in finding a fanfiction.

It's about skz's bangchan and reader. The title is winter something? i don't remember. Basically the reader is the princess of a wizard kingdom and chan is the king of the wolf kingdom. Reader's kingdom is slaughtered by the wolves and and reader is the only one who survives. She tries to run but is eventually found. She is taken to chan and it's like a marriage of convenience thing because apparently their marriage can lift the winter's curse.

PLEASE HELP ME FIND THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1

also there is one similar to the marriage of convenience trope but the reader is jeongin's sister who agrees to marry chan if he stops the attack on their kingdom.

I DON'T REMEMBER THE TITLE OF THIS ONE EITHER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! PLEASE HELP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[missinghan]

falling asleep in a time machine ⤖ bang chan

❖ genre : mafia au; fluffy angst; hurt/comfort; female reader insert

❖ word count : 6,9k.

❖ warning : swearing, implied major character death, mention of arson, depictions of vomiting, killing, blood, death, can be brutal (!!!), delusional happy ending. 

❖ summary : four times you try to go back in time and save chan; or alternatively, you keep dreaming about chan to see if there is a way to undo his death when in reality there isn’t — from the world of illicit & priceless.

❖ author’s note : just finished my first term of uni (like actually the first term ever) and I’m so dead inside so here’s a silly little something. I can’t use pts anymore so pls bear with the banner *cries and dusts off this old blog* also I try to explain here why Chan was so attached and pissed off when mc stole his mother’s ring even though it’s accidental.

first attempt —

There are three missions that have altered the course of your and Chan’s relationship.

The first mission goes back to when you were still going on heists and Ryujin had foolishly put a piece of Chan’s mother’s sentiments into your pocket. Neither you nor Chan have come to know or like each other much before it.

The second one is the mansion with a bomb planted in the basement and Chan got locked inside a conference room with a three-layered door, one of them made from the same metal as the fucking Titanic. The third mission involves a casino where the Germans and Italians came together to push Chan toward a dead-end they had cultivated for the Devil himself, to his ultimate demise. They are all too arrogant to admit that Chan will take over the entirety of the East Asian market before any of them can start rolling in their graves.

Three missions of importance and not long after that, you and Chan have agreed to never go on a mission without each other. An unwritten contract. An unspoken promise. Nothing that the mafia engages in is legal so everything runs on trust, on how much faith you are willing to give those who you keep close.

However, there is a fourth mission that the Underworld records will fail to keep because even only a minuscule part of the Bang family is informed about this—how their precious heir has been summoned to bring home the girl he loves.

“Would you do laundry and taxes with me?”

“That’s an odd way to propose to someone, Y/N. And please, you’re asking an obvious question.” Chan looks up at you from his book. His smile is gentle, soft at the corners with his dimples sinking in—it’s how you know that he means it—the way it usually is these days. The way it has been for the past year. It is almost obscure, you think, how you both would have wanted each other’s head on a stick a year ago before one of you managed to make the other person cry out of gratitude.

You lift the book away from his face, glimpsing at the cover. Because Chan is an absolute heathen, he has been reading No Longer Human and you’re being annoying about it because he hasn’t come out to train with you for two days already. “Are you telling me you’ll say ‘no’?”

“We’re already doing laundry and taxes together. We will just have matching rings and a signed piece of paper,” Chan gives you a pointed look; he always looks so serious whenever he wants to correct you as if your sarcasm is that dry. “So it naturally implies as a ‘yes’, idiot,” he nags, even though he doesn’t mean the last part.

“Oh how you wound me, love,” you bite back, even though you don’t mean it either. “Chan, come on. You’re locking yourself up in a prison.”

Chan lets out a long, heavy sigh as if he’s insulted that you have just called his room a prison—which you never verbally hinted at, he simply interpreted it that way. He reaches over to grab the book from your hand, seemingly giving up his reading time for you, and places it on his bedside. 

“What are you–” You watch as Chan walks over to one of his mahogany drawers. “-doing?”

“I need caffeine to talk to you.”

Despite your bristling, he stays true to his words and finds himself a mug, a tea bag, along with a boiler. By the time Chan finishes filling up the boiler with water and turns on the heating switch, your legs are dangling over the edge of his bed as you puff up like a cat, baffled and offended. 

“So,” Chan inquires, a steaming mug of tea in his hand. “What’s up?”

“I find your current state distressing to look at,” you elaborate with glee, a glint coming into your eyes that Chan knows you’re up to no good. “Take a week off with me. We can go anywhere you want, it’ll be a short getaway, just the two of us.”

Chan’s back is turned toward you because he’s too busy searching for a spoon but you can boldly assume that he’s smiling. It’s hinted in his tone when he asks, “You mean a vacation?”

“Brilliant interpretation, Chan,” you smile wryly. “Of course, I meant a vacation!”

“No, you can go have fun by yourself. You have my permission,” he shakes his head. “I have things to attend to. Meetings, banquets, important business transactions. You know how boring the mafia lifestyle is.”

You still, voice low and suppressed in something Chan can’t seem to grasp at. “You’re going back to your family.” It’s barely a movement, a small enough action. Any passerby would think that you have only faltered a little but Chan has observed you for a good while now to notice you’re holding your shoulders back from trembling. 

“I am going back to my family,” he repeats calmly. “Only for a week, though. It’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“Chan, I know they want to see me.”

Chan tries not to let anything show on his face. “And they may very well kill you because that is what they are. Godawful, egoistic, and incapable of compassion.”

“Let me go with you, I—” you begin, though you cut yourself off almost instantly. The room is suddenly steeped in silence, unwieldy at the absence of your words. Every noise seems amplified in the quiet: the boys’ chatters echoing dully from the living room, the ticking hands of the clock, and every breath you take to calm the anxiety in your rib cage.

I do not fear death, sickness, or anyone’s hatred. What I fear most is losing you, Chan. It’s all so beyond you because a year ago, you were a thief, taking things as you please and sending them away when they’re no longer of use for your benefit. Now there is someone who you will live for and his kiss you will kill for, his laugh you will die for.

“Chan, do you have any idea what I would turn into if you left me?” You have always worried loudly, from the volume of your attentiveness and the anxiety beneath your skin all lie in the tender manner of how you love Chan—the same goes for him, that you can be certain of.

“I will never leave you, Y/N. We will be okay,” he assures you, unbearably calm.

Chan is a liar. 

second attempt —

Chan is supposed to go back to the Bang family’s estate with Yuriko for the New Year. Yuriko is the housekeeper whom he has retired for about a year ever since you came into the picture. The boys, especially Jisung, have been forced into keeping their surroundings clean because, for some wicked reason, they think you are absolutely terrifying when you’re upset about their muddy shoes dirtying the floor after a mission. Yuriko always giggles at that, her Young Master surely knows how to pick a partner. 

“I’ve got word that your father wants you to back to the estate, Young Master,” Yuriko tells Chan when she finds you and Chan in the archive because you have insisted on reading about something you won’t say a word to him. Surely, Chan recognizes what you’re searching for but he doesn’t mention it. 

“He said he wanted to make sure you are ready to take over his position. And there is a dinner he wants your attendance for,” Yuriko continues, hands clasped behind her back. You didn’t even realize when she stepped in and approached Chan—for a mere housekeeper to be so swift and quiet with her movements, you have long guessed that she’s not just any old woman to be hired by the Bang family.

The way Chan stiffens in his seat is telling all on its own. You are suddenly struck with the recurring memory of how Minho used to babble about how much of an ass Chan’s family is when he has had one too many drinks. “You don’t know how bigshot mafia families treat their children, do you? They kept the world from knowing for a reason. I’m surprised Chan didn’t turn out to be a monster like them.”

“Forgive me, Yuriko, but you can tell the old man to suck it up,” Chan says softly but his voice is dark, tense, riddled with a sharpness you haven’t heard from him in a long time—you were threatened just the same way when you had stolen his mother’s ring. Now you realize Chan only ever speaks so heartlessly if something precious to him is hanging on the verge of being taken away. 

“Young Master,” Yuriko frowns for two reasons; firstly, Chan has never been able to decline his blood family of anything and secondly, there isn’t much that she can do to solve the problem at hand. She’s a mere servant for the Bang family; she doesn’t have much power to begin with and therefore, she can’t exactly tell them ‘no’. 

“No, you can’t make me,” Chan grits because he knows, he understands it all too well. Unsaid words of all the things money can buy hang in the air like bile. 

“Young Master Christopher, you must know what happens if you defy your father.” And there goes Yuriko’s final warning along with Chan dashing out of the archive, straight through the hallway and the front door of the mansion, completely vanishing in the white curtain of December snow.

Yuriko murmurs something under her breath, unintended for you to hear her. You continue staring forward, the file in your hands completely forgotten. “He can come home with me,” you say without actually thinking about it until she turns to stare at you, expressionless before breaking into a fit of giggles.

“I think Young Master would like that.”

With that, you set off to find Chan.

“No one will love you unconditionally like we do.” “You belong to us, so do as we say.” “Work to kill, kill or you’ll die. You were born to kill, it’s a gift that not everyone receives.” “The world will bow before you and sway the way you want it but you’ll have to-”

“I don’t want any of that,” Chan hisses but the voices keep coming back louder, harsher, with more bite than he has ever heard from them. “None of you ever gave me anything that matters! You just can’t admit that you made me a murderer!!” 

The snow around him sinks with each step he takes, their words still echoing in his mind and sending shivers down his spine, driven so deeply inside his skull that he wishes he could have nothing of this reality. “Be mindful of yourself. Control it.” “Your fangs and claws are too sharp for you to be swinging just at anyone,” he hears them again

His nose burns in the cold but Chan doesn’t notice something warm and wet trickle down his cheekbones. “You never cared about restraint. You said I must kill or I would die. You all just want to possess me, you want me not as an heir but as a commodity!!”

“It’s how we’ve been running this family. It’s how we keep things in order. You’re one of us, Christopher, you are this family.”

With a huff, Chan eventually gives in and listens because he has no other choice but to; he slides down against concrete with a white-out vision, a quivering figure with nothing on but his cardigan. “Then you’re just as godawful as any of them,” he tells himself, knees curling against his chest, almost justified in his own lie that he wants to burst out laughing.

Chan knows they have made him more of a weapon than a child, more of a monster than a man and he is stuck with it for good. He has been holding onto life just because he can, not so much that he wants to. Because he never truly wanted anything before or was wanted in any way.

“Oh my god, you’re a fucking man-child!”

He hears someone’s nagging from afar and ignores it, hugging himself impossibly tighter because asking for comfort is unacceptable, they taught him so. “Chan!!” He hopes it goes away with all of the other voices. 

It doesn’t. Instead, it comes closer in a humane form, boots crunching against the snow and warm breaths sounding rhythmically. “It’s been an hour. Do you have any idea how worried we all were- how worried I was?! What the actual hell,” you snap. “Now I’m going to hear all this shit from Seungmin again because I let you run off and he’s too terrified of you to properly lecture you. God-”

Your rambles cut off when you kneel down next to him, rummaging for a scarf, a pair of gloves, yet another pair of gloves, his puffer jacket, and a hat from your bag. Chan quietly watches as he tries to blink away the oncoming tears but he can’t—they keep coming. He doesn’t reply when your scolding goes on because even though your voice is sharp, Chan can catch the worry hidden along the edges. Being cared for and cherished like this has made him realize how much he doesn’t want to come back to his family and he wants to cry like he’s the fourteen-year-old boy who used to refuse to pick up a gun all over again.

A child who was unable to stuff down the overwhelming agony and grief forced upon him. A child who was weaponized. A child who was threatened into killing his own mother. “If you can’t kill what you hold near and dear, you’ll never be able to kill anyone to save yourself.”

“Chan?” you call out to him, unbearably soft. There’s a certainty, a sort of gentleness in the way his name is said that only makes his tears come hotter, more and more of it because your love feels big, overwhelming.

Chan hates crying so he never did, not when they had locked him up in his room, not when they had starved him because of his disobedience, not when they had made him pull the trigger with the gun’s mouth pressing against his mother’s chest. Chan hates crying but it seems to be all he’s doing now. 

You’re wrapping him up so gently and trying to warm him up because you know he’s just as human as any mundane individual out there. Humans shiver when the temperature drops, they shed tears when they’re upset, and they bleed and bruise at the right amount of impact. That’s why humans are so clingy toward each other so they can prevent harm from coming the other person’s way. Because no one enjoys getting hurt and there is no good reason to voluntarily get hurt; it sounds like common sense but Chan never grew up with such things. He never came to think he was deserving of such things.

“Chan, come home with me. Forget your family. I don’t need to know about them,” you smile at him, somehow empathetic and so understanding when Chan has barely given you an explanation, when he is desperate to fill the silence but he knows his voice will be weak with tears, stumbling, and pitching all over the place.

Chan sniffles, finding the courage to say something back because he wants to, not because he feels like he has to, “Can I really…come-come home with you?”

“I’m sure the girls wouldn't mind, they might be a little annoying. Yeji, though, can be wary of strangers,” you shrug, something so relaxed about your posture tells him that you have learned to accept something without telling him. 

A breathy chuckle. “Especially when they’re a mafia leader.”

An exhale. Chan shudders when you embrace him wholly—every moment of pride and arrogance, betrayal and hurt that he has been boxing away—as the beautiful mess that he is. You’re the safest person on the face of Earth not because you are on equal terms with him in power but because you never care about those things. You will let him break something, burn something down, cry, and laugh however he pleases but you won’t ever let go of his hand. You never ask him for anything in return while continuing to save him over and over again.

He’s so unbelievably lucky, Chan thinks but doesn’t say it aloud, instead, he tells you, “If you’ll have me.”

The night after you drive Chan back to your mansion, the place goes up in flames. Only you are able to open your eyes to see the next daylight.

“Welcome home,” you want to whisper but can only watch a last smile bloom on the face of a ghost amidst the orange blaze.

third attempt —

You decide to come home with Chan.

For a non-mafia family, it might go like this.

Meeting Chan’s parents will be the hardest thing you have ever done—and that is coming from someone who has broken through the world’s most modern security systems and got your hands on objects worth billions of dollars. 

You will bow when you meet them, use the politest speech you have taught yourself last minute, and desperately try not to remember how Chan was forced to shoot his own mother as a child. They will pinch your cheek and call you lovely, chuckling at how stiff you are and offering you a ‘Come on in! Don’t mind the mess, it’s always how our house is.’

You will smile and you will play along because you want them to like you so badly it hurts. 

Chan will gawk at you without even trying to hide it because you have given him a completely different experience upon your first encounter. Casual, timid, and quick with your tongues when it comes to those witty retorts.

They will then ask you, ‘‘What are your hobbies? Any sports? Instruments?’’ Purely in the Asian parents’ style. 

You will be so nervous that you forget you play the violin and practice meditation occasionally. You will sit at their dinner table in their cozy, lived-in home, and rack your brain for a proper answer that might be deemed reasonable for a mundane girl. “It can be anything you do for fun, honey. No need to be nervous,” they will say again and you will give them a small grimace in return. 

It’s probably deeply fucked up when the first thing that comes to your mind is ‘I retired from heists a year ago because museums are fucking boring so I have moved on to finding new and creative ways to eliminate anything that might be the cause of Chan’s suffering.’

“…You play the violin beautifully,” Chan will suggest quietly beside you, his hand laced with yours beneath the table. “And you interrupt my reading time whenever you need attention.”

“I…I like to be with you,” you will finally find the courage to say with a firm squeeze of his hand, and the strength to smile when his eyes widen faintly, flustered yet not surprised. 

Still, it doesn’t matter whether Chan was born from a mafia family. You don’t hesitate to hold his hand beneath the table when Chan tenses up from the disappointed gaze of his father, lean over ever so slightly, and whisper, “I like to be with you.” He almost gasps but refrains. “Wherever we are. As long as you allow me to stay by your side.”

For once, Chan lets himself think that he won’t fuck up something before he even gets to have it in his arms. 

You did come home with Chan even if the dinner is anything but cozy and mundane. Their smiles are cold porcelain, a familiarity with death so staggering you feel nauseous. They are all here, though. Every single one of them. “I’ll be back,” you say and excuse yourself to use the restroom, he assumes.

Chan finds an uneasy slick in his throat, almost thick like blood when he sees a bright thing in your eyes. He lets you go anyway. Will things happen differently if he holds you back? 

Minutes after your withdrawal from the dinner table, an explosion goes off downstairs. The mansion quivers with a long string of rumble, a horrible feeling looming over everyone in the room like an ugly shadow. Though, no one bats an eye. Maintaining such a high position in the Underworld for so long is more than enough for the bounty on each of their heads to go up to millions of dollars. 

As much as Chan detests his blood family, he doesn’t want to die here, a horrendous place for his corpse to be found. So he stands as the rest of the room begins arming themselves, doing his best not to pay any heed to his father, and bolts downstairs. 

In situations like this, he is taught to close his heart and kill. Hence why there was barely any screaming when the commotion occurred, only the metallic sounds of bullets being clicked into their chamber. Truth be told, there is a weapon vault on the main floor of the mansion. Chan knows the most efficient shortcut there and can run through any hallways even without any lights on. He did grow up in this terrible place, and now he will make use of that to get you out of here before anything else. 

Chan arrives at the main floor and there is nothing but a giant hole and crumbled metal pieces in the weapon vault—or what used to be the weapon vault, blown up by a bomb it seems. Well, shit, he doesn’t even know how to register this. The entrance to his father’s most treasured place in the mansion has a three-layered door with an extremely lethal surveillance system, who and how the fuck-

He stops. He doesn’t so much as twitch. It gives him a moment of pure chill when the main floor has gone completely muted, both audibly and visually, like his life has just tipped off balance and leaned towards the bad part of a zombie movie. Upstairs, there is a cry for help and the sound of bullets continuously firing. 

“My fucking god,” Chan curses and turns on his heels, steeling himself mentally while rushing up the stairs. 

Upon arriving at the scene, it’s difficult to say whether turning up just five minutes earlier would have made much of a difference. Fuck, but if he had held you back, would things have taken a different turn?

There is a lot of blood. Too much blood to be explained away, and too much evidence to be traced back to no one else other than you. Well, to be fair, you’re the only person still standing and kicking aside from Chan anyway. The shotgun in your hand with a silencer attached speaks volumes, a knife between your teeth, and your left hand is fisted tightly. 

“…Y-Y/N,” Chan utters, in disbelief. “You’re Y/N, aren’t you?” 

You release something in your left hand and several fifteen-bullet magazines drop to the ground, the sound scratching his spine in the wrong way. The knife also hits the ground, metal echoing loudly against hard marble. 

“You’re here, Chan,” you reply, like your hands and clothes aren’t painted red. Swiftly, you duck to fumble for something beneath the dining table. Chan’s gaze follows you suit, prompting uneasiness to crawl down his throat when he realizes everything is, quite literally, drenched in blood. When he manages to snap out of it, you are unwrapping something from a white blanket—Berry, his eight-year-old Spaniel. 

You don’t look one bit surprised to see him—you have been expecting him. You simply keep on tucking Berry neatly into the blanket, murmuring something along the lines of ‘it’s over now’ and ‘I’m sorry I scared you’. Berry offers you a small whimper in return, still startled and recovering from the loud ruckus. 

Chan inhales very slowly. Exhales. “What did you do?”

“I killed everyone here,” you say levelly, as if mass murder is no big deal. “You’re a little late. I thought your intuition would be keener than that.”

“This is no time for a fucking joke,” he snaps. Chan has snapped because he’s mad at himself. He has been living purely by his intuition for more than two decades already, without it he would have died a long time ago. Yet when it comes to you, he’s always the most irrational. 

Your lips twitch like you’re about to smile but realize he’s upset. “You’re right, sorry.” 

Chan moves further into the room, his shoes squelching with each blood-drenched step he takes. He takes the scene in once again and keeps calm because that is what he has trained himself to do ever since the first time he got kidnapped. When his gaze brushes over the corpse of his father, he tries not to think about anything just yet. What’s done is done but Chan can piece the scene together from the explosion downstairs—a bait that anyone will be eager to take and a good way to disarm your enemies—to the scattering of hole-filled bodies, their blood blooming against the marble floor like a grotesque bouquet.

The crux of it is you know all too well he will run to find you without question, lending you the space and time to kill whoever remains.

“Why?”

Your eyes sweep over the mass of bodies, dull and distant. “Does it really matter?” You don’t think it’s fair to say you did it because you love him; it will become a curse that haunts him for as long as he lives. Yes, you love Chan with your entire soul but you also simply want to act as you please, allowing yourself to have your selfish ways of declaring your love for him. 

His chest heaves without any stability. “I thought you said you’re used to taking many things but you don’t take lives!!”

You cut right in, all glass. “Will anyone be able to do anything about it? Can anyone possibly arrest me, Chan?” 

Chan shudders, a sour thing gnawing at the back of his throat. It’s a morbid feeling he knows will become recurring at night, on the bad days. Chan wants to be furious, it feels like a moral obligation to be. Then again, everything the world has learned about empathy is already torn up by his family, they smeared it beneath their feet like it’s common trash. In the end, all of his nightmares and source of fear amounts to this, a mass of corpses with no resolution. 

“Do you want to kill me, Chan? If so, do it. You’re your own person, you are free.” 

Your eyes have turned into ice, and suddenly you have become so intangible that Chan slowly grows afraid. He thinks of terrible things, Am I allowed to have you? What makes you want me so badly? Why am I different from any of them?

The sound of retching interrupts his train of thought. It takes him precisely half a second to stare at how you are folded over your knees, dry heaving at the marble floor with Berry fumbling for help right at your side. Chan rushes to you to keep your hair out of your face as you gasp for air, choking on stomach bile and body raking with shudders. Once his hand smooths over the fabric on your back, you eventually cough and hack out the last of whatever is left that your system rejects. 

You breathe as shallowly as you can. Quiet wheezes, hollow breaths that pull in and out of your lungs too quickly. Chan rubs small, gentle circles on your back and doesn’t expect it when you snap up to look at him with wide, pained eyes as though you didn’t just murder his entire family in cold blood minutes ago, like you didn’t just take out the Underworld’s most feared lineage of demons by yourself.

Chan decides not to say anything, lets you lean into him shakily, and tries to figure out what you’re attempting to do with your hands. Dry blood makes your skin itchy every time your fingers twitch but you don’t mind it. 

“I’m here, I’m here,” he finally whispers with you sitting in the circle of his arms; you’re shaking like you’re sobbing even though you make no noise and cry no tears. Chan lets you squirm with a wild mania in your eyes, frantic and lost. He can’t quite pinpoint what you want until he gets it. 

You stop shaking the moment your head leans against the left side of his chest, right where his beating heart is. A pattern in his rib cage and a rhythm in your ears, relief so immense you feel like you can finally breathe. What you want is just to hear the sound of his heartbeat. It makes Chan feel a little exposed, somewhat scrutinized but he really doesn’t mind taking himself apart to hand his heart over to you. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, your tone wet and warm with oncoming tears. 

Chan presses his lips into a thin line, feeling like a hypocrite when he keeps you caged in his arms. “What are you sorry for, silly?” From the bottom of his heart, it’s abominable, he thinks—that even amidst such gruesome bloodshed created by your own hands, Chan is relieved that you are not hurt.

“I’m sorry this isn’t real.”

fourth attempt —

Chan is coming home with you. The childhood home you used to grow up in with two extremely loving, a little too oblivious parents who never once questioned their daughter’s occupation in the big city. 

It takes time to adjust but Chan is sliding into your little family without noticing it himself. He manages to impress your mom with his cooking and discusses politics with your dad. You might be going delusional but you swear you saw him chuckling faintly at your parents’ terrible taste of reality TV. 

The house might only amount to one-tenth of his mansion but it smells like fresh laundry all around, tender and soft, smothered in the love of ordinary human beings. So everything just feels that much bigger, a love so warm and overwhelming it stains Chan’s eyes with unfamiliar myriads of emotions. It takes him a few days to finally laugh a little louder, not refraining his speech to specifically formal phrases, and allowing himself to nag you in front of your parents. He even makes a sound of disbelief when you keep telling them he’s only a friend from work.

“Oh my god, why are you so salty about it,” you chide and close your bedroom door. “If I had said you’re my boyfriend, they would have started interrogating you!” 

Chan sits on the duvet you have laid on the floor for him—your childhood bed is too small to share—and mumbles something morbid under his breath, “I am quite good at tolerating any methods of torture thank you very much.” However, he doesn’t miss the look your parents give you whenever you bid them goodnight with Chan hovering over you in a way that’s nowhere near platonic.

You snort, actually, no, it’s too bitter for you to even react. “The worst they will do is leave you out when we watch TV,” you grin to relieve the inevitably building tension, shit-eating and all.

“That’s cruel. You know I love reality TV,” Chan replies, completely monotone. He flings an arm over his eyes like he’s putting in effort to mimic a dying body trying to convey his love in a Shakespeare play. Wrestling with like ten other housewives to buy those eggs on sale for your mom was more of a workout than any gun fights he has engaged in.

“Sleep. Mom said we’re going outside tomorrow,” you huff, tossing him a teddy bear from your bed—the amount of stuffed animals you own is impressive, they easily take up half of your bed so Chan had to accept his fate with the duvet. 

“I thought we’re heading back?”

“We will after going out with her. She said she wanted something from the bakery.”

Chan hums in response, his gaze skimming over the interior of your room again. Light pink wallpapers, white bookshelves and wardrobe lining the corners, and soft hues of blue on your bed and curtains to top it all off. “Truly, you are the designer of a generation.”

“Toddlers usually don’t like black. And I was eight, Chan, shut the fuck up,” you laugh, the sound so hearty it makes him want to bottle it and keep it all to himself like a child hiding his favorite candy. 

“Hurts my eyes a little, but I like it,” he declares and unwinds for the day.

You never realize you don’t really walk around town every time you visit your parents. Maybe it’s because you didn’t have many friends growing up, meaning there’s no one to call up for a hangout, or maybe it’s because all of the memories you want to relive here are with your parents, in the warmth of their home. So you walk down the sleepy streets with laziness on your shoulders, somewhat at peace when Chan can’t seem to keep his eyes in one place, secretly comparing the imageries of bright, colorful Seoul with this hazy rural area.

“What is that place over there?” He asks when you stride past a sketchy-looking building when in reality, it’s a spa run by this really nice old lady upstairs.

“Did you go to school here?” He ponders when you glance at what looks like a middle school; no kids are running and shouting in the playground since it’s the New Year holiday. 

Your mom notices how much curiosity Chan has for an apparent mid-twenties young adult so she giggles, offering to point out something she thinks he might be interested in, “That’s a small park Y/N used to play at. She wouldn’t leave when I came to pick her up after work.”

You can’t decide if you should scowl at your mom or burst out laughing at her implication that Chan, the leader of a notorious mafia group, should go and sit on one of the swings while she heads inside the bakery. “Come on, Chan,” you quickly make your choice. 

Chan sighs, though the sound is fond because he sees a sort of excitement blooming loud and clear in your pretty eyes. You have observed Chan long enough to know when he has given in so you laugh, turning to your mom and saying, “We’ll be back in a minute.” The familiar promise melts Chan inside out but he doesn’t tell you that. 

You accidentally drop your phone while walking down the stone steps so you turn away for half a second. And when you look back, Chan is seated neatly on the swing which is definitely not fitting for his age—his long legs dragging against the soil as his arms are crossed in front of his chest. As serious as he tries to look, you find the whole imagery so ridiculously unserious. He senses your gaze burning holes on the back of his neck so he stands, reaches upward, and lifts himself to sit on the metal bar that the chains rain down from.

“Chan, what the fuck, that’s not how you use a swing,” you chide, nearly rolling on the ground and barking a laugh. “If I take a photo of you right now, how dead am I?”

Chan doesn’t even need to turn his head. “What do you think?”

He looks down when your footsteps squish against the snow and he tries to imagine how a little you would hang around this place for an entire afternoon, up to no good things while waiting for your mom. “Concise as always, boss,” you purse your lips at him, nostalgia a heavy weight on the curve of your shoulders as you peer over places you used to designate as your hiding spots. 

Chan catches something shifting on your face and he ponders; why would you voluntarily involve yourself in outlaw doings when you could have had a perfectly normal life? “When did you start stealing?” 

“Probably when my parents sent me away for university. I hated it. School was hard and the expenses were awful for their bank accounts but they wouldn’t tell me that,” you mutter and decide to join him, legs dangling over the edges, a confession dragged from your lips unwillingly. 

Chan scoots a little closer, a hand reaching over to your left side to keep you from falling. “And you figured you were pretty good at it?”

“Nothing to be proud of, obviously,” you shake your head and can’t help a small grin. “Okay, maybe just a little. I was making money from racing on the side as well.” 

It takes him a moment to register your words when surprise halts the words in his throat. No wonder you’re better at handling car chases than any of his teammates who have been involved in this business for years. You look over at him, seeing that he’s having trouble reacting so you pinch his nose teasingly, “I know, so sexy, ain’t it?” 

Chan rolls his eyes, neglects the warmth spreading on his cheeks, and simply sits with you. The swing creaks and groans beneath the weight of two adults, rust staining his hand when he lifts it to check. 

“It was enough money for me to graduate and I was fine with that. Mind you I was always the top of my class,” you scoff, thinking of long days when you used to get little to no sleep, of when you had mustered the best smiles for your parents through FaceTime, of how you had begun not caring for how much money the jewels you had stolen were worth. 

None of it matters anymore, you think as you lean into Chan, and he lets you. “I’ll guess this, you were homeschooled?”

Chan doesn’t answer immediately as realization tightens his ribs. You don’t talk about home or how you grew up, and Chan doesn’t talk about his parents. Perhaps you both are similar in that way so neither of you mind when the other person never initiated it. “I was. Everything I ever learned was taught in that forsaken mansion. Most of it, actually.”

“Everything?”

“You can’t run away from what you’re surrounded with,” he says, and there’s a chilling edge to it, an icy kind of shiver that makes your fingers more numb than the winter cold ever can. 

“Chan, you’re not them,” you declare out of the blue, eyes crinkling up in adoration. “You are free, okay? No matter how hard they try to ruin you, you can’t become them.”

When you look up again, his eyes have a glassy shine when he says, “I know that now.”

“Don’t cry,” you huff out a breath.

“I’m not crying,” Chan shakes his head slowly, voice suspiciously shaky. “I guess I just thought you had a lot to live for and I was…you know, it was arrogant of me to keep you by my side.”

You laugh, a sharp, crisp bark of a sound that cuts right through his doubts. “Who do you think you’re talking to? If I wanted to run, I would have and no one could catch me, not now, not ever.”

“Well, I did,” Chan retorts, though there is no bite to it.

“Only because I let you,” you play along sedately. It’s the soft hum of your voice that makes breathing for him feel easier, and his shoulders feel lighter. When Chan exhales, it no longer tastes like the unfathomable, untouchable nightmares that he was so used to choke down, swallow, and not allow himself to throw them up as proof to show anyone else. 

Your mom returns perhaps in about an hour, a box tucked in her arms and groceries hanging from her elbow. “Time to go back,” she yells from the top of the stone steps. “We need to cook dinner, kids!”

You don’t dare budge. Chan notices it and nudges your shoulder gently, sensing your discontent. “You heard your mom, come on now.”

“I don’t want to go back,” you disagree. “Let’s stay here. I want to go to the beach with you when it gets warmer. And diving, kayaking, too!”

“You told me to leave my credit cards back home. You’ll have to feed me and pay all of my expenses,” Chan reminds you.

“Guess what, I left mine at home too,” you reply breezily. Maybe you both need to find new jobs. You don’t think Chan should worry about that because there’s nothing that he can’t do if he puts his mind to it, he’s just that great. Chan is the greatest thing there is, the best thing that has ever happened to you.

You watch rosy lips part, brown eyes widening as his grip on your shoulder falters faintly. “I don’t deserve good things, Y/N. I can’t stay here with you,” Chan says like he means it. “Tell me to leave.” He really is stupid until the very end.

“If you’re worried about that, I’ll kindly decline my spot in heaven and go to hell with you,” you assure him, your voice chirping with mirth but even that doesn’t seem to elevate his gloom at all. A groan. “Fine then, as the most wonderful person alive, I now denounce us of all our wrongdoings. And I announce us to be the best of normal friends as normal people!”

His solemn expression crumbles and now he just looks straight up insulted. “It’s supposed to be ‘husband and wife’,” Chan nags while fighting off a grin of his own.

A light feeling burgeons in your chest. “I thought you didn’t care about that kind of thing? We’re already doing laundry and taxes together, right? It’s not like we have enough money to buy the rings either.”

“I suppose I’ll have no say in that,” Chan sighs in defeat, finally smiling brightly as he reminds himself of what he has, and what he wants to become for you. “But I like to be with you as well. If you’ll have me.”

You look back at him, wanting nothing more than to burn those words into the flesh of your heart. “I already have you right here, don’t I?”

Because Chan’s existence is etched deeply somewhere inside your soul. And you love him everyday for that.

❖ note (yet again) : hello there, if you have reached the end, thank you so much for reading! I wish 2024 will bring you and your loved ones nothing but happiness and great health! (no one asked but I really tried to simplify their speech of affection towards each other here compared to illicit & priceless because all they really want is to be normal people living a normal life)

[jeonjungkookenthusiast1997]

Bodyguard For Hire (1) - It's Going To Be a Bumpy Ride

Summary: Bang Chan, a famous body guard, has been hired to protect the daughter of a rice banker. She's a spoiled brat who likes to tease her new body guard endlessly and who's to say he can't flirt back?

This is my own work not a reblog! Please do not repost or translate.

Content Warnings- mafia/ gang au, mentions of violence, flirting, pet names, Y/N is a little brat, bang Chan is also a brat

Word Count - 1,698

Navigation

Chapter 2

The streets of Seoul had gotten more dangerous lately, the local gangs making their presence well known. Y/N's father, a rich investment banker, had growing concerns that his daughter would be targeted leading them to hire a well known bodyguard for her known as Bang Chan.

Y/N had been nervous when she got called into her father's study and frowned when she saw the man standing beside her father as he explained the situation "No refusal or your allowance for the month will be stopped" her father barked at her firmly as he tips his head back swallowing a suspicious looking brown liquid.

Anger started to burn into her heart as her face turns red "what?! This is ridiculous daddy! I don't need a fucking bodyguard" her delicate face scrunches up in distaste as she looks at the stranger, he had short and dyed platinum hair and a small cut across his cheek which looked oddly fresh. His clothes looked crisp and clean at least a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a black waist coat sucking in this waist deliciously. Y/N could admit in her head that he was drop dead gorgeous but that didn't stop her anger at the situation.

"Y/N! Language" her father bites out with a serious expression on his face. Bang Chan stays silent next to him as his dark eyes watch his new client, he takes this time to examine her frame. Her e/c eyes glimmer in the dark light of the room, her mid length hair flowing loosely at her back and a sleek looking black dress adorns her curves, he thinks to himself he might be kind of... Cute if she didn't look at him like he'd just shot her. Shaking his head of such futile thoughts he focuses back on the conversation happening in front of him, "I-" she goes to respond but bitterly realises silence in this instance may work out more in her favor so she simply looks away from her father with a scowl across her face.

"You will not question me again." Her father huffs and he pours himself another drink. "Now go upstairs. I have to speak to Mr. Bang Chan privately" she can't help but roll her eyes at this, "Fine" she grits out as she turns and slams the study door making her way up to her bedroom.

As soon as Y/N is upstairs Bang Chan relaxes, rolling his shoulder slightly as he moves to sit across from the older man.

Bang Chan clears his throat slightly before speaking "She seems... Difficult" the man before him chuckles slightly "Yes, she has a mean stubborn streak it's hard to get through to her once she's made her mind up" the patriarch stops his thought there with a frown before he continues "Do you think you'll be able to handle her?". Bang Chan hums to himself as he thinks "Of course. I have a lot of experience in dealing with people. Especially women like your daughter." he smiles "How much is the pay for this job and how long will I be here?" The older man pulls out a brief case full of cash and pushes it Infront of Bang Chan "This to start, more to follow which can be discussed at a later date, as for your duration..." A deep sigh leaves his mouth as he looks at some documents on his desk "Lets say a 30 days for now, I'll pay you the rest at the end of this month and we can review the contract then" the blonde haired man nods as he thinks the arrangement over "For now I'd like you to properly introduce yourself to my daughter, she may not be happy now but I can only imagine the longer it's left... The worse her temper will become" he ushers the bodyguard out of his study and towards the main staircase, Bang Chan takes a deep breath before climbing the stairs.

He rounds the top of the staircase and stops at Y/N's room, he can hear her inside mumbling angry to herself before he knocks "Y/N let me in, your father wants us to meet" he waits for a moment getting ready to knock again when he hears something soft hit her door and an angry "Go away!" Is shouted from behind the door.

A deep sigh leaves his chest at her antics before he announces he's coming in, turning the handle he opens the door walking in to see his client, Y/N, sat at a vanity table with her arms crossed much like a child he laments to himself "You realise this is part of why I'm here, yes? To keep you safe" she looks at him like he's got 2 heads for a moment before responding sarcastically "Why yes because I need protection from my fucking pillows" she stands up and shoves a pillow into his arms before she throws herself onto her bed.

He sets the pillow back back on her bed and sits down on a chair across from her "You're very stubborn aren't you?" A smirk flashes across her face at his words "one of my best traits" she flicks her hair over her shoulder while watching him carefully "Yeah that attitude is also why your parents hired me" he crosses his legs and looks at her, a frown creases her brow and she bows her head "I know and I know how bad Seoul has gotten recently but I don't need a babysitter" she huffs out "if you're aware of all that then why act like a spoiled princess?" he crosses his arms as his sharp eyes watch her reactions to his words "Because I can! Because it keeps freeloading dicks out of my life" she bites out before finally sitting up slightly resting her weight on her elbows "well news flash kid but I'm not a freeloader. I was hired by your father. I get paid good money dealing with princesses like you 24/7." Her eyes roll back into her skull at his cockiness "Good for you Mr... Whatever your name is" she sneers at him, "It's Bang Chan. Try to remember that." he says with an oddly cold expression "No I don't think I will actually, you see that would mean you'll be staying here which isn't happening" she rolls her eyes again before grabbing her phone from a unit near her bed.

He quickly jumps up and grabs the phone away from her placing it in his pocket "You won't need that." Her mouth opens and closes a few times as she stares at him with wide eyes "You can't do that!" She squeaks out at his actions "Give it back!" She shouts as she lifts her hands trying to grab her device back. He simply shrugs his rugged shoulder at her "If you are going to behave like a child, I'm going to treat you like one" He says in a stern tone "Understand?" His words make her blood boil underneath her skin "I am NOT a child we've been over this, you can't treat me like one I'm fucking 23 you dick" a laugh escapes his chest at her words "23 and still acting like a spoiled brat? Your parents need to teach you some manners... Oh wait..." he snaps his fingers together "that's right. I'm doing that now" he says as he stands up "You can try" she scoffs at him "what was your name again? Bam... Something" she folds her arms underneath her bust "Bang Chan. What was yours again, Princess?" He asks in a sarcastic tone, standing over her "You know fine well what my name is and don't call me princess!" She shouts with her cheeks dusted a faint pink "Alright, Princess" he chuckles. She can see that he's enjoying this, enjoys getting a reaction out of her.

He pushes her gently back onto her bed, but she just lays there in shock not sure how to actually respond to him completely man handling her, he leans over her as she lays down. He's inches away from her face, smirking as he looks her up and down "I'm sure my father didn't hire you to mock me now go away" she pushes him back and stomps to her wardrobe to get her night clothes out "No he did not. But he did hire me to protect you and make sure you're behaving. Even if that means getting up close and personal, you clearly need to learn to respect your elders" He chuckles making her throwing her head back slightly as she laughs "my elders? You can't be more than what... 24? Hardly my elder" he smirks and puts his hand on wardrobe door caging her in "I'm 25. Still your elder" He says while looking into her eyes.

Getting flustered at his close proximity she throws her bed clothes at him effectively pushing him back "You pervert! You just going to stand here while I change for bed now too?!" Bang Chan thinks at this and hums to himself "well... Your father did hire me to look out for you. And to make sure you're not getting into anything... naughty" He smirks as he watches her get all flustered, her face is bright red now "Get Out!" She starts pushing him out of her bedroom "You can come back and stalk me tomorrow, freak!" He lets her push him out of the room but before he leaves he turns to her and says "You're a very interesting person, you know that Princess?" He gives her one last wink and closes the door.

She hears his footsteps thud down the stairs but she remains stood at the door dumbfounded for a few moments before she slams her door shut and dresses for bed. She climbs into her plush bed but she can't sleep, her mind reels of thoughts on her new frustrating and admittedly sexy bodyguard "tomorrow's going to be a nightmare" she groans into her pillow as she rolls over in bed, letting sleep take her after an hour or two.

[pureblisswrites]

A guide to getting kidnapped and escaping 101

Chapter 1: The Schrödinger's Kat

Prologue

"Alright then. If that's what you want." He sighed again before his eyes went dark and he leaned in closer towards you. "I should warn you beforehand though, curiosity killed the cat."

"And satisfaction brought it back." You reply.

Pairing: afab! Psychologist! Reader x Bang Chan

Word Count: 2.1k

Genre: Crime, mafia au, eventual romance, slow burn, comedy (an attempt was made)

Summary: You are a fairly renowned psychologist and therapist but definitely not renowned enough to be getting kidnapped in the middle of the night. Is it one of your past patients with a criminal record? You don't know what the kidnapper wants but now you finally find out.

This story takes place in the same universe as "A guide to accidental murder and cover up 101" but with a different reader. I suggest you can read that too if these kind of stories are your type. But both can be read as standalones too.

"Going somewhere doc?"

"Um no?" You try to lie. It was like your brain had turned into mush now that you were face to face with this scary unknown man.

He sighed deeply at your poor attempt at lying. "Please follow me." He said to you politely and started going into the direction you had come from. He didn't even turn once to see if you were following or not. You could try to run away but you doubted it would be useful in any way. So your best bet for now was to follow him. You saw as he removed his blood stained gloves swiftly and just dropped them on a table in the hallway, seemingly not bothered at all by the fact that he was staining the table in the process too. After many turns and taking a fucking lift to the 3rd floor, you finally reached the apparent destination as he opened a door and stepped to the side. "After you." He bowed lightly.

You stepped in to see the huge room. From the walls to the furniture, everything was the darkest shade of black. It had a huge glass window through which you could see the view of the city. The room was designed like an office of a rich ceo or something. A black table in the middle. With chairs on both sides. And a bookcase on the wall parallel to the window. It definitely did not have the kind of books you'd read because you could see a thick file with the word 'contracts' stamped on it with red. Another one was labeled as '0325 blueprints' with a black sharpie in messy handwriting.

That was all your eyes could take in before he cleared his throat and gestured for you to sit on a chair and took a seat behind the desk. "I apologise for staining your shirt. I'll have your clothes delivered to you soon." He said while folding his jacket's sleeves till his elbows. And oh his hands are very veiny for some reason.

"Uh... my clothes?" You ask in perplexity. Talking about clothes though, you notice he's wearing a black jacket with a red rose on it over his plain black shirt. You are just grateful his clothes aren't splashed with blood now.

"Oh right. I'm sure you would have many questions." No shit sherlock. "Please ask away whatever you want. I'll try my best to answer as long as the questions are appropriate." Appropriate? What did he think you were gonna question him about? His love life? Egoistical bastard. You wanted to roll your eyes but you would rather not test him for now.

"So... who are you?" The most important question. And the first one you asked your clients, although you had their information files with you. Oh how you wished you could have his information file.

"You can call me Chris." He answered with a slight and what you could only call proud smile. Did this guy really think he gave you a good answer? This was not some introductions meeting, you wanted to know what he did. Guess you'll have to be straight forward with him. Afterall he did say you could ask anything.

"What... work do you do?" You make sure to not say anything he might find offensive. Because you should be worrying about such a thing after seeing him literally splattered with blood.

"I'm afraid I can't answer that. It's... confidential, let's just say." Yeah you kind of knew he wouldn't tell you about him possibly committing murders just yet.

"Fine. Why am I here?"

"To cure me." He says while fidgeting with the two silver chain bracelets he's wearing on his wrists.

"Of what?" You question with furrowed brows.

"Uh I- I think I might be, and I don't know for sure of course, um going crazy." He mumbled nervously, a contradiction from the way he appeared in front of his men.

Now that interested you. Okay so maybe you were writing a potentially illegal research paper on criminals and their psychology but you couldn't agree to this, right? You did have access to talk to a handful of criminals but always under the surveillance of a camera with guards there. You couldn't ask the questions you wanted to. Not without raising suspicions about if you, yourself were a bit crazy. Plus he didn't look too threatening now that he wasn't covered in blood. And what will he even get out of hurting or murdering you? Atleast he wasn't one of the psychopaths whom you had reported to be sent in an asylum and he screamed "I'll kill you one day" and a bunch of other stuff you didn't wish to remember again as he was dragged away by the guards. And it wasn't like this man was hard to look at. Yes pretty privilege and the halo effect were very much really. You were a mere human afterall.

"That still doesn't explain why I'm here." You knew exactly why you were here by now but hearing what he had to say wouldn't hurt.

"Aren't you a doctor specifically for that?" He asked as if you were dumb. Maybe he was thinking you were stupid. Which is great. You don't want him thinking or rather, knowing that you're too smart, too soon.

"So... you need help?" You ask as if you are still confused.

"Whatever way you wanna put it I guess." So he couldn't even accept the fact that he needed help yet. Great.

"And you couldn't come to the hospital I work at like a normal person for that?"

"What do you think?" He raises an eyebrow and you have to accept he looks ridiculously attractive while doing so. Get it together, you scold yourself. "Look I can't tell you what it is that I do. But I think you're smart enough to know it's not something that allows me to just walk into government owned institutions." Oh you knew.

"I don't see how that's my problem? You couldn't find a private therapist or something?" Now this is something you hadn't actually figured out yet. Surely just hiring a private psychologist would be lot easier than whatever he was doing.

"Unfortunately for you and fortuantely for me, I don't settle for anything less than the best. And no private people were as qualified as you." Oh?

"How do you even know that?" You ask, now in actual confusion.

"A friend of mine attended your seminar on psychodynamic theory last year and he was thoroughly impressed by you. He was actually the one who reccomended you." Okay what the fuck? Only top detectives and goverment officers were allowed to attend that event as you had to go through some truly disturbing and stomach churning cases to explain your points. How did he even have friends there?

"How lucky for me." You remark sarcastically.

"I know this might be a difficult situation for you to adjust to and I'm deeply sorry for that. But please understand that there was no other way." He explains while brushing his dark hair out of his face.

"Oh sure, as if you couldn't just, I don't know drop by my home for a few sessions? Why do I have to be held captive to help you!?" Now you have to put your 2 years of being in drama club in high school to good use. You have to let him think you are just so distressed by this situation, as any normal person would be.

"What? No, no. You're not 'held captive' as you put it. I just needed to get you under my protection if I wanted to do this." Just as you think this man can't surprise you anymore, he says something that makes no sense in the image you are trying to put together of him.

"Why?"

"You don't think I've got people who are just dying to know my secrets that no one else does and the ones you'll get to know soon enough? They can kidnap you and not with the intention of getting... 'help', but with the intention of hurting you, unlike me. And I can't let that happen just because I'm an idiot who thinks there's something wrong with me." As soon as you heard the sentence "that no else does and the ones you'll get to know" your brain was overflowing with serotonin. In a world where everything was already discovered and no one kept secrets from you anymore, this sounded like the best reward you could get after hearing people's mediocre stories about their trust issues because that one boy broke their heart in 5th grade.

"'Think'? I haven't even talked to you that much yet and I already know there's a lot wrong with you. You don't think you can just murder people or do whatever it is that you do and live with a healthy conscience do you?" The fact that he "thought" there was something wrong with him was laughable at the best and downright sad at the worst.

He sighed again. "Right. But I want you to know that I'm not gonna force you to do this. If you don't want to do this, you're free to go. I mean you'll definitely need atleast a month of protection by my men because I know the news of you being here would've already reached to my... rivals, let's just put it that way."

"That reminds me, care to tell me how long have I been here for?"

He looks at his expensive looking watch before answering. "Somewhere between 20 to 22 hours." So it hadn't even been a day yet and his 'rivals' already knew about you being here? Just who was this man? He was like a messily wrapped present flowing wtih intrigue and enigma. So there was only one right answer at this point right?

"Kat and Nemo." You say, finally telling him the decision you made a while ago.

"Huh?"

"My pets. Get them here as soon as you can. They haven't eaten all day today, Oh my God."

"So- wait- does- does that mean you're doing this?" He asks in disbelief.

"No I just want to leave my pets here." You roll your eyes. "Of course, are you really that dense? And while you're at it, get my phone and laptop too." You could finally talk to him freely now that he had said he wouldn't hurt you... you think.

"Oh sorry I just still can't believe you agreed and-" he says incredulously.

"I'm sure we can talk later after you get my pets here." You get up to go to whatever room it was you were in.

"Where are you going?" He questions, standing up too.

"Back to that dungeon." You turn back to look at him.

"It's not a dungeon okay. If you don't like it, you can have another room." He stands right in front you.

"Fine then let me stay in your room." Yes he was hot but that wasn't the reason okay. Atleast not the only one. Maybe you would be able to study him more if you spent more time with him. For research, of course.

"What?" He asked dumbfoundedly. You were sure if he was drinking something right now, he would've choked.

"You heard me."

"Alright then. If that's what you want." He sighed again before his eyes went dark and he leaned in very close towards you. "I should warn you beforehand though, curiosity killed the cat." He whispers to you. So afterall he wasn't as dumb to not figure out your motivations yet. Yeah you didn't really do good in the drama club anyways.

"And satisfaction brought it back." You reply.

"Unfortunately nothing that is killed ever comes back to life." He says as if he's experienced it himself.

"Schrödinger's cat." You reply and watch his brows furrow. Of course he wouldn't know what that means.

"What does that mean?" He squints his eyes.

"Maybe I'll tell you some day." You shrug.

He rolls his eyes at that. "I'll send the contract to your room. Read it before signing." Wow so now you'll have to sign a contract? As if things couldn't get any more weird.

You were willing to do anything to unwrap the messily wrapped present that 'Chris' was. And maybe that was the first mistake you made before making many others that will lead you somwhere you couldn't even imagine yet.

A/N: look who posted finally after a whole month. I'm sorry for being late lol.

Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

Tags: @scuzmunkie @obeythemasters

[dazed--xx]

❤️‍🩹Only Love(Can Hurt Like This)❤️‍🩹

Summary: I tell myself you don't mean a thing. And what we got, got no hold on me; But when you're not there, I just crumble. I tell myself I don't care that much; But I feel like I die 'til I feel your touch Only love……Only love can hurt like this

Member: Bang Chan x Reader

T/W:1930s Era, ANGST, historical inaccuracies, Prohibition, cursing, mafia, talks of murder, mentions of guns, Molotov cocktail, gun violence, harassment, neglect in a relationship I guess, mentions of illegal activity, life threatening injuries, mentions mafia war. Mentions of Bootlegging, mentions of Shylocking. Sad ending

Word Count: 5.1K

I tell myself you don't mean a thing and what we got, got no hold on me, But when you're not there, I just crumble

The diner booms as the large groups of men laughed over coffee. You leaned over the bar, your chin resting on your hand as your eyes scanned over the crowd as you waited for your customers dishes. Your coworker Jiung whines as his orders came out. Your eyes land on a familiar group of faces in your section. You sigh as your eyes land on your favorite eye candy, Mr.Bang. He sat at the end of his table his midnight locks slicked back in the most perfect way. He watched the group of men in front of him, his arms crossed over his chest as he listened to the other’s conversations. Your favorite customer, Hyunjin, whined about something you couldn’t hear. “You sound stupid…” A deep rough voice bellowed toward the Adonis like male that sat across from him. “How? Be real here! What more does Park expect from us?! He gets himself pinched and we have to take care of the work on the street” Hyunjin snapped back crossing his arms over his chest frustratedly. “We collect the Vig like we’re bagmen.” He growled pointing to the table as he leans toward the freckled faced boy “We take care of his family. He’s got a wife and kids and a mistress and a mistress for the mistress!” He continues as the freckled boy rolls his eyes. A snap is heard cutting the rest of the ranting man's words off. “Mind your manners, He's still the boss. And the boss is the boss what he says goes” Mr. Bang finally spoke, his voice was firm and unforgiving. “You're so worried about Park. Have you handled the Spring Cleaning I asked you to take care of?” his large palm placed itself behind Hyunjin’s neck, pulling him closer to him. Placing their foreheads together “How's the trash business? I heard there was a certain friend causing some problems” Mr. Bang challenged. His aura alone was suffocating. Your eyes couldn't help but be drawn to him every time he'd walked through the front door. His tone was calm as always but you could tell from the fear sitting on Hyunjin’s usually smiling face; this man should be feared.

A familiar ding rings from behind you. “Table 2 order up!” your managers voice calls from behind the window. “You're a line cook now?” you question, your manager Keeho gives you a snide smile. “Sit and spin” he growls as he flips you off. You blow him a kiss as you grab your customers orders of fried eggs with home fries and bacon. You place the plates on your serving tray. You grab a pot of coffee from the counter as you make your way from around the counter. You will yourself not to stare at the alluring man, who's gaze to you feel burning into you as you walk past his table. You come to a table in the corner two very well dressed yet bulky men sat at the table. A bright smile grows on the more rough looking mans face. You place their food in front of them “If there's anything else, I could get for you please let me know” you smile at them, you could feel their eyes scan over your body. The larger man leans toward you a sly smirk on his lips “As a matter of fact..” he begins “I could use a date with you?” he suggests a flirtatious tone. You groan internally as you give him a faux smile as you fill their mugs with coffee. “I don't make it a habit to fraternize with my customers” you respond firmly. “I wasn't really asking…” He growls under his breath. His hand caresses your thigh, you glare at the man. “Well I'm not interested.” his hand begins to grip your thigh “Sir, I am at work…” you growl once again. “I advise you to unhand my waitress, Kim” The familiar firm voice you admired called from behind you a chilling calmness sitting comfortably in his tone. Your heart sunk in your chest as the man stared at your savior, fear in his eyes. You look over your shoulder as the large man lifts both of his hands in a defensive pose. He stammered at the intimidating male as you turn to stagger away from the table. You notice your two favorite customers, Jisung and Hyunjin standing behind Mr. Bang.

Death glares sitting on the groups faces, your mouth hung open in shock for a moment before you give them an appreciative smile and shove past them. You quickly make your way into office that sat between the kitchen and the bathrooms. You take a deep breath feeling embarrassed at the situation. You couldn't believe yourself, you were more shaken up from how close Mr. Bang had stood to you than the men being aggressive with their proposition. Your heart raced as you remembered the way his eyes trailed over your body, it was different for the large men they had stared at you like they wanted to eat you. For some reason, his gaze felt protective, safe, and possessive though you only said the occasional flirty comments here or there.

How could a man of his stature be so intimidatingly sexy?

The sound of the door opening makes you jump. Your eyes land on the culprit, bringing you face-to-face with the reason for your anxiety. “Y-you’re not supposed to come back here, Mr. Bang.” you stammer, he sighs as he places his hands in his pockets; he raises his eyebrow, he looks around the room for a second before staring at you once again. “It's my office…” He states matter of fact, you stare at him bewildered. “You didn't think I came here every day just for the food, right?” He questions jokingly. You shake your head in response. “Never thought about it much, I was hired to serve food not be in any ones business”

“Keeho seems to run a tight ship. Good quality you seem to have…”

“Years of experience…besides I like my job. Pays well.”

“You hear a lot too…”

“Not really..” You shrug.

“Oh?” He raises his eyebrow.

“Like I said, my job is to serve food and mind my business. And What my customers talk about isn't my business” he nods a smirk forms on his lips “You Okay?” you scoff at his question “Those two? They're more bark then bite…” he raises his eyebrow in amusement as he steps toward you allowing the door to close behind him, he caresses your cheek. “You're the first to say that, they're quite feisty when they want to be. You seem to like being in dangerous situations….” this hand glides to your chin his thumb brushes over your bottom lip. Your heart races “Don’t put yourself in danger anymore..” He sighs. There’s something softer in his tone. “With the crowd that hangs out here it would be impossible.” You challenge “besides I don’t make it much of a habit”

“Last week you chased a guy who ran out on his bill…”

“I’m not losing money for an idiot”

“I pay well. A 10 dollar meal won’t break the bank, doll”

“To you…it won’t break the bank to you. Some of us don’t have diners to generate income and have a vig to pay.”

“This isn’t my only business, I have a couple more I can put you somewhere more suitable for a lady.” He suggests raising his eyebrow not pulling away from you. “I’d feel better knowing you’re safe”

“No. Thank you, Mr. Bang. But I love my job here. I love Keeho and the guys. Besides I fought my father to work here, I don't want him to think I'm getting into trouble” you confess.

“Chan…”

“Hmm?”

“My name.” he smiles “Call me Chan, doll. I don't like how Mr. Bang sounds coming from you.” a blush creeps on your cheeks. “I'm not sure if that's appropriate, Mr. Bang” you stifle a shy giggle.

“Why not?”

You freeze for a moment before answering “Well, you own this business. I work at this business. Does keeho call you Chan?” he chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest. “He could…he wouldn't be around long but he could.” he stares at you in amusement. “Besides, all this time you stared at me, don't tell me you only wish to maintain an employer-employee relationship?”

Your eyes widen at his question. You felt nervous, all this time you didn't think he'd noticed you. For him to confront you about your crush…it caught you off guard to say the least. Your heart pounded so loudly in your chest that you swear you could hear it in your ears, almost like a tune on the radio. Your cheeks burn a bright scarlet. “C-Chan…I-I—See I knew you could do it.” he cuts you off bemused. He leaned in close to you, caressing your cheek he connected your eyes “Don't worry about an answer now, as you said earlier you're at work. I'll let you get back to it.” he smirks before pulling away and heading toward the door “See you tomorrow, doll” he pulls a cigarette pack from his pocket, taking one out he lights it. He looks back at you giving you a wink and a wave he disappears behind the door.

Your legs turn to jelly as he exits, and you collapse on the ground. You hold your hand over your heart as if it could steady it. Your cheeks are a bright neon scarlet, a wave of giddiness crashes over you. Chan… you blushed to yourself. Even his name was mesmerizing.

It had been weeks since the office incident and you still hesitated on pursuing something with Chan. He still came in every morning with the same group of 7. You'd bring them coffee and he would find some way to brush his hand over yours. He'd become quite…. persistent all of a sudden. He'd give you a wink and smile the moment he saw you approaching his table. When Jisung or Hyunjin asked about your brother, Chan would hang onto your every word. One thing did change though, now he always paid the bill with you at the counter. He'd find some reason to touch you in some way whether it's by brushing a stray hair away or placing his hand on yours while you talk. You also noticed the larger tips the other boys began to leave. Yet you hesitate.

Over the past few weeks, you began to properly do your homework on one Bang Chan. You had figured that once he told you he owned the diner he was associated with the mafia in some way, Keeho was a connected guy after all. You had assumed Chan was also involved in some way but you never expected to find out he was a Capo. Let alone a high-ranking one placed directly under your father.

A bootlegger by trade, after the government declared war on alcohol. Your father the underboss of the Park crime family, had taught you many tricks of the trade. And for 10 years he ran the largest underground alcohol distribution network. From the moment the idea of prohibition was proposed your father began learning and perfecting the craft of making beer and alcohol. Many of the crime families had to go through your father for their libations, and it had built your families wealth exponentially. But all things must come to an end, and when it did it came with a shakedown.

The feds were swift and ruthless they came early in the morning to whisk your father away for his current 10-year bid. While you and your mother could live comfortably with the money your father left for you. You felt wrong using the money he'd risked everything for. So, you worked, you worked to maintain his vig. You handled his books while your uncle acted as his capo for the crew. During you're research you had learned Bang Chan was notorious, him and his crew making their bones at very young ages. Before you never really paid attention to the chatter about the man you admired from a far; but you couldn't help yourself now.

You now knew how almost every woman who lived in a 2-block radius admired him, and all the men respected him. You learned whatever you couldn't from idle chatter from your uncle and father. Chan had taken the oath after he'd helped win the war against the Choi family. Rumors said he'd been the one to take out the former boss. Your father pointed out how he had a knack for businesses, once starting out as a Shylocker Chan quickly developed multiple businesses from construction, to apartment buildings, clubs and obviously the diner you currently work at.

Of course, there was idle chatter about his vicious and unforgiving temper as well. How every man including him may seem sweet, attractive, and harmless but under that facade laid ruthless cold-blooded killers. You shutter when you remember the cold unbothered tone Chan had used toward those men that day in the diner. You don't even want to think about what could have happened, remembering your father's temper. You had continued to lock your feelings away from the mafioso, knowing nothing but pain could come from entering a relationship with him.

Until one day, he didn't show up with everyone like he always did. You had been floored, to say the least when you noticed his seat empty. You were able to put on a facade laughing with them as you poured them coffee. Growing up around mafiosos, you never felt uncomfortable they were respectful, honest when they could be, and headstrong. But they were men at the end of the day, they were human. Having a high-ranking mafia father you had no choice but to find yourself comfortable around them. Despite the rumors this group always was polite and made you laugh, you laughed along with Jisung's jokes as you took their orders. Your eyes drifted to his empty seat. You found yourself growing more and more upset as time ticked by. The group of boys finishing their meals with idle chatter you'd typically ignore but today you hung onto their every word waiting for some mention of Chan or his whereabouts.

Was he okay? Did something happen?

You found yourself ridiculous but your heart shattered as the boys called out a goodbye on their way out. You give them a faux smile as you wave them off. You make your way over to the table. He didn't show up… you slowly cleaned the table stacking dishes on your tray. You notice a paper sticking out of the bill folder. Curious, you pull the paper from the checkbook and read it's contents.

Doll,

Had a meeting. If it's not too much trouble, I'd still like to see you. I need to see you every day, you see. Meet me at Spark’s steakhouse. 8pm

-yours Bang Chan

I tell myself I don't care that much. But I feel like I die 'til I feel your touch. Only love….Only love can hurt like this….

It had been two years since that day. You and Chan had been together through the end of prohibition. You spent your first night legally able to drink with a bottle of wine on the beach. Feeling the sand between your toes as you sipped from the wine glass, your hand encased in Chan’s. Whilst you felt your relationship with Chan was almost perfect, as he was such a gentleman despite his reputation. Unfortunately, you felt he was too much of a gentleman sometimes. He refused to touch you, even after two years together you both hadn't gotten past steamy kisses and heavy petting. You hoped the alcohol would loosen him up a bit, but as someone who never had to stop drinking recreationally, he could maintain his inhibitions. You, on the other hand, didn't drink during prohibition so you felt quite inebriated.

Chan quickly found out you see an honest and affectionate drunk, as you lazily laid your head on his shoulder. Your arms wrapped around his bicep as you stared up at him with a pout. He pecks your lips softly, raising his eyebrow at your expression the corner of his mouth lifts in amusement. “May I ask what's troubling you doll?” he questions as he brings the wine glass to his plush lips, taking a sip of wine. You stare up at him a longing in your eyes “Why won't you fuck me?” you slur. He choked on the drink, not expecting your sudden boldness. His eyes wide as he pulls away from you slightly “W-What?”

“Why won't you—Don’t ask me again, I heard you the first time…” He cuts you off in a panic. He looks around at your surroundings. “Well…Why?” you question “I really want to…but you always stop.” you pout as you pull your head away from him releasing his arm. “I don't—I wouldn't just fuck you. I love you, you'd be more to me than just some fuck. If I wasn't who I am I'd have proposed to you and make love to you every chance I got. I'd want to do things the right way…”

“But…?”

“But I am who I am. My job isn't safe right now, a lot of people are in a situation and things are starting to look like a war is brewing”

“I don't care about any of that, Chan I just want you”

“I do—sigh—your safety is my priority right now. Usually, your safety would be guaranteed but once I get the call to hit the mattresses…” he trails looking away from you. You hear the way his voice cracks as he speaks. “There wouldn't be someone around to guard me..” you finish for him. He nods his eyes screwed shut for a moment. “Look, if I get the call promise me you won't go to the diner until I get back” he urges caressing your cheek. You stare at him sadness sits in his chocolate eyes. You could tell he was nervous and felt guilty. You nod reluctantly. You feel his forehead press against yours.

“I promise once all of this is taken care of I'll give you everything you desire, doll”

“I love you Chan. I can wait”

Say I wouldn't care if you walked away, But every time you're there, I'm begging you to stay When you come close, I just tremble And every time, every time you go It's like a knife that cuts right through my soul. Only love…..Only love can hurt like this

You were on edge for 2 months. Every time Chan was late, a prick would be sent through your heart. You weren't sure when the war would start but even the civilians could feel it was coming as more and more tension built between Park Jin-young’s faction and Yang Hyun-Sik's faction. The animosity formed when Yang Hyun-Sik made all his union trashmen go on strike until Park Jin-young funded his latest venture. Escalating all the way to the phone call that would send your entire world crumbling down around you.

It had been a normal day, you had been laughing along with Jisung when Keeho called you over to the counter. A serious look on his face when he handed you the phone. You took it hesitantly, your heart shattered in your chest when you heard the corrections officer on the other end of the line explain your father's passing. No matter the officer's terminology you knew. You knew it was a hit, you stood frozen in shock as Keeho stared at you worriedly. His voice was drowned out by the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. You could feel his hand on your shoulder as your eyes traveled around the diner landing on your lover who was laughing with his friends until his eyes met yours. A tear fell down your cheek as Chan stared at you, worry and confusion written all over his face.

The front door bursts open as Yang Jeongin runs straight to Chan. “Boss, they got to Baek Do-Chul last night” He murmurs as he struggles to catch his breath. His words prompted Chan to rush to your side quickly pulling you into his arms. He held you close as you sobbed into his chest. Realization falls over everyone's face, the war had begun with the murder of your father. You sob harshly knowing you have lost your father and lover in one quick swoop. You clung Chan, whispering your pleas for him to stay by your side.

You could tell he wanted to. Oh, how he wished he could stay with you and hold you close forever. You could see the longing to stay and avoid the war on his face. But he took an oath, and without him and his men the Park family could fall. Everything he and your father and all the men around you had worked so hard for could crumble down at any moment. He couldn't do that to his men, the family he had made he would never abandon them. And you knew that, so as much as it hurt you had to let him go. Your heart went through the door with him leaving you an utter sobbing mess on the floor.

But if the sweetest pain, Burning hot through my veins. Love is torture….Makes me more sure,Only love can hurt like this

It had been 6 months since the war started.

6 months since your world fell apart.

6 months since your father had died.

6 months since Chan and the boys had left…

The commission had plenty of sit-downs in regard to the war, with Keeho being sent for almost daily while he was acting as boss for your father after your uncle became another casualty in the war. He had tried to avoid asking you to come back to the diner but he became desperate as he could no longer manage the day-to-day business and run your father's old crew. You had agreed to help hoping to get some sense of normalcy. Though the busiest time you had seen was when Chan and the boys were around. Many people avoided the many businesses controlled by both factions too afraid of the possibility of being in a front-row seat of a mafia war.

The night shift was typically quiet. You had an easy time as the night crew were funny and enjoyed their time around each other. You were cleaning the dining room with the only other closing waiter, Intak. The two of you laughing at the cook, Soul, shouting profanities and arguing with himself from the kitchen when a flash of light caught your eye.

Before you could comprehend what was happening the window beside you shattered. You feel an arm wrap around you as you hear the sound of glass breaking near your feet and you're pulled roughly deeper into the dining room. The part of the dining room where you had been standing goes up in flames. You hear the sound of more breaking glass as Intak yanks you behind him, he grabs the back of your head shoving it down and making you crouch “Keep your head down!” He exclaims as you try to look around. You notice his hand reach behind him, he produces a Colt hammerless pistol from his waistband. You rush toward the back exit as you hear the sound of gunfire. The flames growing more and more vicious engulfing the building in a matter of seconds. You struggled to breathe as smoke filled the room. “Y/N!” you hear Soul's voice call from the kitchen. “Soul!” you cry as a cough builds in your lungs. “Follow my voice!” he exclaims as you hear clattering from the kitchen. “I-I'm trying…” you call, trying to feel your way through the doorway. The room begins spinning as you struggle to breathe you feel a sharp pain radiate across your back through your stomach. You feel your strength growing weaker and weaker as you stagger into the back room. You lean against the wall as you feel a warmth spreading across your torso. Your legs giving out just outside the kitchen. You stare up at the wall a trail of blood following you. You stare down at your torso noticing the sticky red liquid that painted your shirt. The world goes black as a familiar voice calls “Y/N!”

Only love can hurt like this; Your kisses burn into my skin.Only love can hurt like this, Only love can hurt like this….Save me…..Save me….Only love, only love.

A faint beeping rings in your ears, and your eyes feel heavy as you try to pull them open. You're blinded by a flash of white light. You release a groan as you hold your head trying to allow yourself to adjust to the light. Your throat feels exceptionally dry as you look around the room finding a table with a cup of water beside your bed you take the cup quickly gulping down its contents. Your torso is sore as you notice the familiar figure hunched over your bed. Your heart races as you rub your eyes expecting the figure to disappear “C-Chan…?” you mutter, your hand coming in contact with his hair. You caress his head tenderly. He stirs, his eyes fluttering open. He jumps from his position when he sees you staring back at him. He pulls you into his arms with a call of your name. You wince as pain shoots through your torso. You hear him sobbing as he holds you in his arms “You're awake!” he cries pressing light kisses all over your face. “Fuck! Thank god, I thought I lost you. I thought we were too late. When I saw you like that, you looked like you were dead. I almost died right there.” He rambled as he held onto you for dear life. “I'm okay, it's nothing..” you try to brush it off.

“You were shot!” He snaps “How could you say that? You almost died! You were in a coma for 2 weeks!” you stare at him stunned “Channie—I almost lost you! Why were you even there? You promised me! You promised you wouldn't work there while I was gone! Why didn't you just listen?!” He cut you off, his concern and anger worn on his face. For once he couldn't contain his emotions. You look away from him “I'm sorry. I just I wanted to feel close to you again” you mutter

“It was dangerous! I told you how dangerous it would be!”

“I'm sorry, but I don't regret it”

“Are you kidding me?”

“No Chan. I understand why you're upset right now but you have to understand why I did it. I needed something to feel normal again”

“So you do something stupid and put yourself in danger?”

“What did you expect me to do?!”

“Listen to me, Goddammit!” He growls roughly “I tried! I really tried but I lost my dad and you on the same day! I needed you! And the family came first! You left me! When I was begging you not to, you left!” you finally snap you stare daggers at Chan. “You act like I had a choice. I-I didn't want to leave, doll.” you look away from him crossing your arms over your chest. Chan reaches trying to uncross your arms and hold your hand “Doll please listen to me…” he pleads “I took care of it. The war is almost over. The guy that killed your dad I took care of it. I didn't have a choice, it was an order. I have to listen to the commission.” He argues finally relenting on trying to hold your hand he paces the room. “Oh trust me I know all about it. How the family and your path will come before anything. How it has to be your priority. How no matter what happens nothing comes before omerta.” you scoff “I'm surprised you're even here, how'd you manage that? Since your orders are so important…”

“Don't be like that, doll. You know you're my first priority…”

“Oh am I?”

“Yes! Come on Y/N, don't doubt my love for you because I have to follow orders”

“The only reason your here Chan is because I almost died, not because you missed me or needed to see me.”

“Of course, I wanted to see you every day I was gone. I'm here because I needed to be sure you were okay. I'm here for you…”

“For how long? 2 days? 4?” you question crossing your arms over your chest. He stares at you with a guilty expression. “Tomorrow. I have to leave tomorrow…” you scoff “of course..”

“I-I spent an entire two weeks here! Park told me no matter what I need to go back tomorrow. The war is almost over we have a plan. Just—Just give me some time…” he pleas

“I don't have any more time.” you state coldly, catching him off guard “I don't have any more time to wait for a man who would leave me after what I just went through because of him. I won't wait around for a man who would leave me the moment I return from the brink of death.”

“Y/N please…” His voice cracks as he reaches out for you “D-dont make this hard for me”

“Just go follow your orders.” your tone is full of venom. You can see the pain on his face. “Doll…I-I’m sor—i don't even care to hear it. Go follow your orders Chan. Win your war, but I won't be here waiting for you when you get back” you cut him off. You hear him whimper in pain at your declaration. His eyes well up with tears as he stares at you in shock he rushes to your side, dropping to his knees he takes your hand. “N-No, doll please! I'll do anything. I'll stay. I won't go! Don't leave me..you’re all I have” Tears stream down his face as he begs. You shake your head pulling your hand away from his. “I can't keep doing this. I won't make you choose between me and your oath. Please just go” you state begrudgingly. Chan’s sobs grow stronger as he holds your face in his hands pressing his forehead against yours. “No, please! I'm sorry. I'm sorry please don't—don’t leave me. I can't live with out you, please…I chose you I'll choose you over my oath” he whimpers. His face is coated with tears as you stare at him your own tears falling. Your heart breaks at the sight of falling apart. Your injuries no longer even painful as your heart shatters all over the floor.

Cause only love can hurt like this…

⏪|⏸️|⏩

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Bang Chan

He’s always been someone who takes his responsibilities incredibly seriously, to the point where it consumes him. Every task, big or small, is something he approaches with a sense of duty and focus, leaving no room for jokes or lightness. This intense pressure is something he’s put on himself for years, striving for perfection in everything he does. But sometimes, that pressure builds up too much, and it overwhelms him. That day, everything seemed to come crashing down at once. Feeling stressed and frustrated, he lashed out, snapping at you to shut up and stop bothering him, even though you weren't the source of his stress. The moment he saw your face change—your smile gone and the hurt in your eyes as you quietly walked away—he immediately realized he had made a mistake. Guilt washed over him the second he saw you turn, knowing he had taken his stress out on the wrong person. But by then, the damage was done, and there was nothing he could do to take back those words.

Later that same day, the weight of his actions gnawed at him, and he couldn’t shake the guilt that had been eating away at him since the moment you walked away. He knew he had to make things right, so he rushed to your house, heart pounding with anxiety and regret. When he arrived and saw you sitting on your bed, quietly sobbing, his heart sank. The sight of you in pain because of him, knowing he had caused it, made his chest ache. He had been too harsh, too scary in his anger, and now, seeing the aftermath of that moment, it hurt him even more. He approached slowly, his usual confidence replaced with hesitation. Gently, he sat down beside you on the bed, the mattress shifting slightly under his weight. His hand reached out, trembling just a bit, and he softly stroked your head, his fingers brushing through your hair as if trying to comfort you with just a touch. "Sweetheart, I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice low and filled with genuine remorse. There was a gentleness to his tone, something tender and caring, all the things he should’ve shown earlier but hadn’t.

"I shouldn’t have shooed you away like that," he continued, the regret evident in every word. His hand moved to yours, fingers wrapping around it, holding it tightly as if he was afraid to let go. After a moment of silence, he couldn’t bear the distance between you anymore, and he pulled you into his arms, holding you close in a warm, protective hug. His embrace was firm but full of love, as if trying to shield you from the pain he had caused. "I won’t do that again," he murmured into your hair, his voice soft but sincere. "I love you, you know that, right?" There was an almost pleading tone in his voice, as if he needed you to believe him, to forgive him. Holding you close, he silently promised himself to never let his anger hurt you like that again, vowing to do better, to be better, because he couldn’t stand the thought of ever making you cry like that again. After that day, he made sure to give you his full attention, always making time to show his love. He pampered you with affection—cuddling, whispering sweet things, and holding you close. Through every hug and kiss, he let you know how sorry he was and how much he loved you, making sure you always felt cherished.

Minho

That day, Minho had been feeling unusually sensitive, weighed down by a lot of things running through his mind. He was overwhelmed, and in his frustration, he pushed you away. His expression was intense, his eyes almost scary as he shut himself off from you. Hurt by his actions, you turned and walked away, the beginnings of tears welling up in your eyes. In that moment, Minho thought he needed space, time to be alone and sort out everything going on in his head. But as the minutes passed, he began to realize that being away from you only made him feel emptier. Slowly, the walls he'd put up started to crumble, and despite still clinging to a bit of his pride, he knew deep down that he needed to be close to you. His heart ached, missing your presence, your warmth. Without fully realizing it, his feet carried him in your direction. Even though he was still caught up in his own stubbornness, he couldn’t ignore the pull toward you—the longing to hold you, to feel you near once more.

Once Minho stepped inside your place, he knew exactly what to expect. The silent treatment wasn’t a surprise—he deserved it. Without a word, he made his way straight to the kitchen, moving quietly as he began to prepare your favorite meal his mind was racing as he cooked, trying to find the right words, maybe because he's not someone who’s very vocal about his feelings.. Cooking was one of the few ways he knew how to show his apology without speaking too soon. Once the food was ready, he carefully carried it to the bedroom, where you were sitting quietly his eyes instantly soften the moment he sees you standing there. He placed the dish in front of you, the aroma filling the room. There was a heavy silence as his eyes stayed on you, trying to read your mood, to figure out the right moment to say something. Finally, his voice broke the stillness, soft and almost hesitant. "I'm sorry," he began, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me. I know I shouldn't have treated you like that." As he spoke, his hand gently found its way to your cheek, his thumb softly brushing against your skin. "Eat, it's still warm," he urged, his words tender but filled with care. Leaning in, he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, a small gesture meant to convey his regret and affection. He watched as you began to eat the food he had prepared, giving you space but not leaving your side. Minho knew that making up after a fight would take time—he wasn’t rushing it. He was the type who needed time to process things too, so he understood the need for patience. But that day, even in the quiet, his actions spoke volumes. With every small gesture, he showed you that, despite the conflict, his love for you hadn’t wavered. It was in the way he cooked your favorite meal, in the soft kiss, and in the way he stayed close, reminding you that his feelings ran deep, even without words.

Changbin

Changbin might usually be soft and gentle when he's around you, but there are times when the pressure of people’s judgments becomes too much for him. During these moments, he feels overwhelmed by the weight of their opinions, which makes him more sensitive than usual. He withdraws into himself, rarely smiling or showing his usual warmth. If you try to lighten the mood or play around with him when he's feeling this way, it can quickly escalate into an argument. In his frustration and emotional vulnerability, he reacts defensively, saying things he shouldn’t—hurtful words that don't reflect his true feelings but are more about his own internal struggles. However, as soon as he sees the hurt in your eyes or notices that you’re upset by his outburst, the realization of his mistake hits him hard. The guilt sets in almost immediately, and he becomes painfully aware that he was wrong—very wrong. His anger fades quickly, replaced by a deep sense of regret, knowing that he let his emotions get the best of him and hurt someone who means so much to him.

Changbin moves a step closer to you, the fury that had once dominated his features fading away, replaced by a complex blend of guilt and the familiar softness that always fills his gaze when he looks at you. His once rigid posture relaxes, and his eyes, usually so fierce, now shimmer with a vulnerability that catches you off guard. The love that had seemed lost in his earlier anger reappears, and you can feel the weight of his emotions pouring out of him as he reaches for you. Without hesitation, he pulls you into his strong arms, holding you so tightly as if afraid to let go, as if his touch alone could mend the invisible rift between you. His body, firm and solid, presses against yours, providing warmth and comfort that you've always found in his embrace. You can feel his breath hot against your skin as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in deeply, inhaling the scent of you as though it’s a balm to his troubled soul. "I'm sorry, love," he whispers, his voice heavy with remorse.

"I'm so, so sorry." His words are muffled, but you can hear the pain and regret in every syllable. "I must be out of my mind," he continues, his arms tightening around you as though he's terrified you might slip away. "Things got so overwhelming... I'm stressed out, and I let it get the better of me. Please... don't be mad at me." You feel the sincerity in his words as his hands run gently up and down your back, offering both an apology and a plea for forgiveness in the way he holds you. He leans back just enough to gaze into your eyes, his own filled with emotion—no longer clouded by frustration, but by love, guilt, and an earnest desire to make things right. His forehead presses gently against yours, his breath mingling with yours as he softly murmurs, "I love you. So much. More than anything." His lips press against your forehead in a tender kiss, lingering there for a few moments longer than usual, as though the simple gesture could erase the tension that had built between you both.

Hyunjin

Hyunjin is the type of person who deeply connects his emotions to everything he does and everyone he interacts with. This emotional depth often leads to moments where misunderstandings or disagreements occur between the two of you. During these times, it’s not uncommon for him to respond in a way that might seem cold or distant. He might give you a sharp glare, or show frustration in some other way, and then leave abruptly. Even though it’s not the right way to handle things, he tends to walk away instead of talking about it in the moment. After this, there’s usually a stretch of silence between you both. You might not see or speak to each other for a few days. This time apart is important for Hyunjin, as he uses it to reflect and think things through. He needs space to process his emotions, but as the days pass, he slowly starts to realize that the argument or disagreement was something small or trivial. He begins to understand that it wasn’t worth the silent treatment, and that the two of you could have discussed it calmly from the start, without letting it spiral into a fight or turning to shouting.

Ultimately, he comes to see that open communication is the better path, and that resolving things doesn’t need to involve so much emotional distance. He spent hours at his easel, lost in thought, as his brush moved gently across the canvas. Each stroke seemed to carry the weight of his emotions, and slowly, a beautiful painting of the two of you began to take form—your silhouettes intertwined, bathed in soft light. His mind was filled with thoughts of you, of how beautiful you are, especially when you're around him. In that moment, he realized he needed to make things right. He was trying to express everything he couldn't say in words, letting his heart pour out through the art. When the time was right, when he finally gathered the courage, he came to you. In one hand, he held the painting—his feelings laid bare in each color, each line. In the other hand, a bouquet of beautiful flowers, carefully chosen to match the tenderness he felt for you.

He stood before you, his eyes filled with emotion, and without a word, he set the things aside and stepped closer, his eyes holding that soft look he always reserves just for you he pulled you close, cupping your face gently in his hands. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice soft but filled with sincerity as he gazed deeply into your eyes. "I shouldn't have said those things to you. I didn't mean any of it." Then, wrapping his arms around you, he held you close, ensuring that you could feel his warmth and the steady beat of his heart. His embrace was full of love and quiet apologies, a silent promise that he was ready to make things right. "I love you," he murmured, his voice trembling slightly. "Really, I do. Please don’t be mad anymore. I'll make it up to us, I swear." He lingered in the embrace, not wanting to let go, as if you might slip away, even though you wouldn’t. In that moment, he made sure you knew just how deep and strong his love truly is.

[potatomountain]

CIY- CH 15

Chapter Fifteen

📍Pairing: detective ateez ot8 x detective afab reader

📍Summary: "Captain oh Captain"

📍WC: 3.1k

📍AU: detective/mafia

📍Genre: action, dark themes, poly romance, smut

📍Warning(s): 17+ rating, suggestive📍Nets: @pirateeznet | @mirohs-aurora-society

📍Beta readers (and sole motivation): @flurrys-creativity , @candypop1611 , @yourfatherlucifer , @yessa-vie and edited by the amazing: @daemour

masterlist | Previous | Next

You were more than a little disappointed that San wasn’t there the next day, but confused over your mixed feelings over Mingi and Yunho’s absence. But as that one day turned into a week, you were getting concerned.

No it wasn’t because you wanted to invite San back to your place, or confront the two giants on what they did in the bathroom, hoping to have some answers to your own feelings, but because you were genuinely worried.

Seonghwa didn’t help with your nerves one bit, spending a good amount of time with him over the week, as well as a forced training session with Jongho. Your ass still hurt from the number of times he happily knocked your ass on the mat. It was only thanks to Seonghwa’s presence that he wasn’t a total ass, actually listening to the Vice-Captain and keeping his comments mild. The unnerving part was the way Seonghwa seemed on edge.

Something Jongho had commented on when he had forgotten your presence.

So by the next Saturday you were on edge all over again, the release San had given you felt wasted. Of course admiring how pretty Seonghwa was in a blank tank, showing off the neck tattoos you had spotted peeking from the collar of his turtlenecks and button up, did not help there. Or the fact you spotted a hint of ink peeking out of the back of Jongho’s shirt, a deadly combination with how thick the man was.

If you were pissed off enough you might have suggested a hate fuck. With his strength you were sure it would’ve left you bruised up and sore in all the right ways.

You might have been a little too excited when Wooyoung popped his head around the corner to startle you at your desk. “There’s my favorite Goddess. Miss me?”

Laughing, you smiled, “Can’t say that I have. Haven’t seen your handsome face around enough.”

“Oh but I am handsome-” He stood up straight and called back loudly “hear that?! She thinks I’m handsome. Beat that fuckers!” His attention was back on you as soon as you started laughing louder. “Mm San was right, that's a pretty sound.”

You couldn’t help but get a bit flustered, realizing San talked about you. “Is he here?”

“Unfortunately he got booted to bedrest back at our apartment. So my company better be enough.”

“You can’t hog her to yourself.” Hongjoong called, stepping around Wooyoung and looking you over. “I hope Seonghwa kept you busy.”

Rolling your eyes, you replied “Not enough. Sparring with the asshat who has some vendetta against me wasn’t much fun. Is it just San that’s not back?”

“Are you that eager to see him?” Wooyoung actually pouted, taking a step closer to you and setting his hands on your thighs. “Come on, get to know me a bit, Goddess. We can make it a physical activity.”

It definitely crossed your mind to take him up on that offer, after what you let San do to you, the images he encouraged in your mind, all it would take is a simple yes.

The two of them could tell you were seriously thinking about it, Wooyoung’s smirk widening as he ran his hands up your thighs more. Hongjoong watched curiously, taking a step to the side to get a better view. “Well?”

With a sigh, you shook your head. “Maybe another time.” Patting both of his hands you peeled them off you and pushed him back in the same motion that you stood up. “Do I get to hear about where everyone has been the last week or am I excluded for that?”

You weren’t happy at all as their expression fell just enough to know the answer to that. “Not entirely. There was an increase of Green Viper activity, so Wooyoung needed San for that. We had to deal with some altercations between them and the Red Wolves. It’s mostly paperwork the rest of us need to fill out.” Hongjoong tried to mend but you knew differently, you still didn’t have enough trust to know.

It irked you, but you understood. You didn’t trust all of them fully either, in fact the only one you could confidently say would have your back in a fight was San. Some of them were questionable, would definitely like your back in their bed, but otherwise you were still an outsider of sorts. “Can I leave then? I’m still a bit bruised up from Jongho’s stupid ass.”

“Aww, you don’t want to be around me?” Wooyoung pouted, reaching for you again but you pushed past just as Hongjoong pulled him away. “When do I get to work with her Captain?”

Hongjoong offered you a friendly smile, still trying to ease the tension that had formed between the three of you. “That’s something we can talk about. It’ll take a few days, so if you can take those days to rest. We’ll give you a call to come in and brief you but let us get it all set up.”

“Yeah sure, whatever.” You started grabbing your things, pissed off. A week you sat around and worried about them and they got back just to send you off and have you swindle your thumbs at home? Seriously?

“Firecracker…” Hongjoong followed you to the door, grabbing your hand and stopping you. “Don’t be upset, it’s not on purpose and it’s not because of what you think.”

You ripped your arm out of his, glancing over your shoulder just to glare at him. “Sure it isn’t. I know I haven’t earned my place yet, but it’s been over a month Captain.”

“I know I know. But you have. It’s just, we have to rework some things after this incident and figure out where best to put you. Not to keep you out of our way but where you would be the most useful. Where you do make a difference and shine the most.” He reached up, cupping your cheek and turning you more towards him. “I believe you’ll do wonders here Firecracker, but integrating you into the work we have built up over years is going to take some time. Alright?”

It was a wonder how he said just what you needed to hear, and you could believe him too. The man, while neutral about your presence so far, has provided you with ample opportunity to prove yourself. And when you did, he acknowledged your skills.

Relaxing a bit more, you leaned into his hand, looking up at him. “Alright Captain.” You mumbled, pulling away and clearing your throat when you realized how soft you just were. It felt good to be acknowledged for your work, especially from Hongjoong, Captain of the unit you were having a hard time with.

He was most certainly not looking at you as if you were just a member of his unit though, not like a Captain should. It threw you off, glancing back at Wooyoung and waving. “Next time handsome, maybe you can convince me of getting to know you better that way.”

You left before either could reply.

The short walk home was ample time to actually think over the interaction. You found yourself comparing Hongjoong to Chan, knowing where Hongjoong was teasing or lenient, Chan was not. Chan looked out for you, showed his concern for you but always as Captain of the unit. It was always the unit over you.

Hongjoong hadn’t done any of that. He had concern for the unit, sure, but he was giving you a chance, eager to see you prove yourself. And the way he had comforted and reassured you, the way he touched you… that wasn’t what you were used to.

You weren’t sure what to make of it, but arriving at your apartment building and seeing your previous Captain there was some shitty timing. Did you just manifest him with your thoughts? You wish you could manifest him away.

He stood up straighter when you approached, relief on his features as he called out your name.

“Did I not make myself clear last time? I don't want to talk to you or see you or anything.” You pushed past him, putting in the code and moving inside.

“What if I say this is about Felix?” He followed after you, which truly aggravated you a bit. He was usually respectful, even when upset, so this was out of character for him.

Huffing you ignored him as best you can as you climbed up the stairs. Why the fuck was he following you? “Then Felix can talk to me about it himself. You aren’t his fucking parent Christopher.”

He called out your name again, still not leaving you alone, reaching out to grab your wrist instead. “Can we please just talk?”

“No! And I don’t know why you insist we do! You hurt me Chan, you know you did.” You snarled out, ripping your hand out of his grip as you moved up the stairs faster.

At first he didn’t follow you, but as you turned up the landing towards the next flight of stairs, you saw him skipping steps to catch up. “And I want to make it up to you!”

“Why?” You turned on your heel quickly once you reached the top of the stairs, glaring up at him. “I’m not a part of your unit anymore Chan! I’m nothing to you.”

He looked taken aback, stuttering over his breath over something to say but you could see the hurt in his eyes. It had your ire spiking, after all he wasn’t the one who paid for his decision.

Scoffing, you turned to head to your door, with every intent of locking him out and calling the security at the front. You hadn’t seen him at the desk so you assumed he was making his rounds. You wanted Chan gone, especially before the tears that burned behind your eyes fell.

He wasn’t making it easy, stopping you again by moving in front of you. “Please listen to me.”

“No.” You sidestepped.

He blocked you. “Dammit, please.”

“I don’t want to, Chan! You had plenty of time to explain yourself!” To the other side.

He was there to block you again, grabbing your biceps to hold you still, pleading out your name. “I thought you would understand!”

You stiffened, glaring up at him. You remembered clearly how the last conversation you had with him before he handed you the transfer form- the tension between you two in your kitchen: you in his shirt while he was shirtless sporting a hickey you were sure you had given him the night before. The reminder had your chest tight. “I do understand Chan. You chose the unit over me. You couldn’t have me around after what I did. Didn’t have the fucking balls to turned me down after I confessed?”

“No! Fuck that isn’t it at all! This got so fucked up I’m sorry” he pleaded with you.

But you were having none of it, struggling in his grip. “Stop trying to save your ass. You rejected me, in probably the shittiest fucking way asshat.”

“I’m not I just- please I just want to explain myself to you. You can hate me all you want after I just… it wasn’t because of your confession. I promise, please-” He held you still as you tried to push past him again, the tears brimming your eyes.

“You’re not giving me a damn choice so just out with it already! Criticize my work, tell me how I’m too emotional and I get too invested. How I cost you something stupid because I gave a fuck about you as a man!” You yelled, your own emotions clouding your judgment even now, which frustrated you as it proved what you were saying.

“None of that is true dammit! I didn’t give you the transfer because of your confession! I turned you down at the time because you were drunk and I wanted you to be sober when I told you I loved you.” He raised his voice, a tremble in his tone. “I love you trouble. I wanted a real relationship with you and I didn’t think I could have that if we were in the unit together. I was already being pressured about your behavior and I just thought it was a small price to pay, okay?”

You gawked at him, completely thrown off by his sudden confession. He was sincere, you could see that, but you were as far from elated to hear about his feelings as you could be. “A broken heart is a small price to pay when you aren’t the one who paid it! You are the one who gives a damn about separating work from pleasure. Your morals cost me everything I cared about Chan!” You pushed at him, the tears beginning to flow freely down your cheeks. “It’s too fucking late, I’m done with you! Just leave me alone, I’m not a part of your unit anymore and I’m not someone you have to care about. You love me? Then suffer while I live without you.”

His devastation was obvious on his features, pain in his eyes, but you didn’t feel the least built guilty. If he had you transferred out just so he could pursue you romantically without having to sacrifice anything- you didn’t feel a least bit guilty. “I loved you Christopher BangChan. Past tense. I don’t anymore. You hurt me in a way I never ever thought you could. I don’t need you any more. Don’t want you anymore.” You sobbed out, pulling away.

You never saw it coming, never heard the door or his footsteps, just that when Chan pleaded your name again, a fist connected to his jaw. Now facing a tall and familiar back.

“Do you intend to make her cry even more? Beat it fucker, you heard her loud and clear.” Mingi snarled at him, standing protectively before you.

Under any other circumstances, you would have been miffed that he came to your defense. He had been a dick to you since the beginning, making him untrustworthy, or at least you had said he was. So why were you trusting him now? Finding comfort in his heroics?

Were you just that done with Chan that any assistance was welcome? Even from Mingi?

“This isn’t your business.” Chan hissed, but you could tell from the tremble in his tone he was pissed. Pissed and hurt.

“It damn well is when it’s my girl you’re touching and making her cry.” Mingi reached behind him, placing his hand on your hip protectively. You leaned into the touch, gripping the back of his shirt. “Head to your apartment Buttercup, I’ll be there in a moment.” He softened his tone considerably, the deep rumble reverberating down your spine.

This was a battle you were happy to hand over. “Make it quick.” You added for Chan’s benefit before rushing around to your apartment. You didn’t look at Chan, didn’t want to meet his questioning gaze that you could feel.

The second your door was shut you could hear harsh muttering in Mingi’s deep voice. You couldn’t make out what was said, but you didn’t want to know. Taking a deep breath you wiped away the tears and started getting comfortable in your apartment, asking questions you didn’t have a chance to ask a second ago.

How did he find your apartment? Why had he brought up Felix? What really happened the night you confessed?

Why had Mingi come to your defense… better yet why were you happy he did?

Setting your suit jacket on top of your bag you sighed, feeling worn out and dejected. You couldn’t help but think of Hongjoong again, how he had reassured you earlier. He said things you wished Chan would’ve said. He encouraged you to grow, and instead of asking you to change to fit into the unit, it sounded like he was changing things so that you would fit them.

How hard would it have been for Chan to admit his feelings before? Talk it over with you like an adult. His love didn’t mean he had to play favorites. It didn’t mean he couldn’t be your boss. Why did he expect you to change to fit him?

You were crying again when you turned at the sound of the door, Mingi bowing his head in apology. “I’m sorry about that Buttercup.” He froze when he lifted his head, spotting the tears in your eyes. He strode over easily with his long legs, brow furrowed in concern. “Fuck I should’ve kicked him in the balls. Or aimed for the eyes for permanent damage.” He grumbled to himself, whipping your tears away while you gawked up at him.

“Mingi?” Slowly you grabbed his hands, breath hitching when his gaze met yours. You couldn’t see an ounce of hatred or distaste, or anything other than care for you and anger on your behalf.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how painful this had been for you. I just thought you pissed your boss off I didn’t know-” He swallowed hard, suddenly bashful as he averted his eyes. His ears were tinged with color, tongue running over his thick lips like they were dry.

“Why does it matter? Why come to my figurative rescue. I don’t want to be some damsel in-”

He interrupted you, “That’s not it! I couldn’t stand to hear it anymore. The pain in your tone and how he was treating you. The fucker chose his career, his good morals, over you? How fucking stupid could he be. You’re a damn fine detective, and you hold your own plenty well.” He dropped his hands, even more flustered after his compliments.

You lifted a brow, heart racing in your chest. This bashful side of him was unexpected, but cute. “You sound like you like me, Mingi. Were all those insults your flirting?” You teased in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“I uh… maybe?” You weren’t expecting that, at all. But he was towering over you and flustered, looking almost innocent with his pleading boba eyes. “Would you reject me if I did like you? If I did want you?”

You licked your lips slowly, his eyes following the movement. Considering the thoughts you had of him lately, was rejection even an option.

In answer you brought his hands to your hips, looking up at him as you stepped closer. “Depends on how well you convince me that you do want me.”

He was confused at first, catching on as your arms wrapped around his neck. “Gladly” was all he rumbled before his lips were on yours.

Taglist (form): @mingsolo | @wowie-hockey | @crispybaguettes | @tiny-apocalypse

| @philijack | @lelaleleb | @isiloiale | @vannabanana1995  | @piratequeen-queenofgames

| @starstruckforyou | @minheeskitten | @amphiroxx  | @cloudysannie | @sugarnspice630

| @sanhwalvr | @plutoneu |  @sousydive |  @fatalt | @iwishiwasrichasfuck

| @bitchwhytho | @st4rhwa | @thesafecafe | @alextheweeb7 | @ddaeing

Taglist will be continued in a reblog!!

[iridescentxstars]

ofc girlie !!!! yknow the one wink wonk

Mafia!AU + They told you that they would kill for you but you didn't think that they were serious... or did you? + Knife play + Blood play

mafia!bangchan x fem!reader || prompt: they told you that they would kill for you but you didn't think that they were serious... or did you? || kinks: knife play, blood play, free use, orgasm denial || warnings: implied killing, possessive ownership, kind of borderline dark themes || wc: 830~

please remember this is all fictional. this work is NSFW and contains SMUT, if you are under 18+ DO NOT INTERACT

The blade shines, catching the kitchen lights, as Chan walks towards you, shoes dragging in mud and leaving a trail of evidence in his wake. The storm rages outside, amplifying the tension in the air as the lightning brightens the dark sky. A large hand lands heavy next to you, his firm body pressing against your back and pushing your stomach harshly against the counter, while the knife is gently laid against your collarbone.

One wrong move and your blood will stain the freshly cleaned blade.

“Tell me,” his deep baritone voice speaks directly against your ear, lips brushing lightly against the shell as they move. “Who do you belong to?” You swallow, careful not to shiver at the possessive tone in his voice lest you got nicked. “Tell me, who said you could leave the house?”

You know not to answer, you know that any answer would result in him deciding that you’re more trouble than you're worth so you stay quiet.

“What did I tell you when I claimed you that night? When I had you spread before me and screaming my name?” Bloodied fingertips trail up your wrist, along your forearm and bicep before gripping your jaw and holding it tightly. It’s fresh, sticky, marking your skin as he makes you stare at your distorted reflection in the window. Flecks of blood dirty his devilishly handsome features, red stains his blonde locks where he had run his fingers through them, and even though you cannot clearly see his suit – you know the jacket discarded earlier when he entered the room would be coated in it. “What did I say would happen if you dared to entertain another man?”

He waits, his tightening grip on your jaw bordering on pain as he waits for you to answer. “You’d kill him. You’d kill anyone who touched what belonged to you.”

A pleased hum vibrates through his broad chest and Chan carefully moves the knife up, the sharp blade pressing against your neck hard enough to break skin. “And yet, you decided to test me?” Chan drags the blade down your chest, hand still keeping your head in place so you can watch the blade pop open every button on the shirt you’re wearing with practised ease. It should not be that attractive, it should be terrifying to know he has a knife so close to your heart, and yet, you clench your thighs together like a desperate whore waiting for the sharp pain that comes with Chan marking your skin.

Never scarring, oh no, he knows better than to leave permanent scars on the body he worships daily but he always loves to leave marks that proves his ownership. His claim. Reminders that what he does to you is for pleasure, not pain.

Beads of blood bloom from each fresh cut, each one causing the heat between your legs to burn with such a need that you push your ass against the bulge growing in his tight slacks. He’s fucked you against every surface of his house, he’s taken you in every position whenever he’s in the mood and he’s reminded you every single time that he’ll do it again – he’ll do it as many times as he wants, when he wants.

And you’ll let him.

Every fucking time, without question, you’ll spread your legs and let him have whatever he wants.

“Spread for me,” his feet tap at your ankles and you follow his command as Chan finishes ridding your shirt of all the buttons and leaving it open, body easily accessible for his needs. The knife clatters to the ground before Chan turns you around to face him and he lifts you up so your ass can sit on the cold surface of the counter, soaked cunt on display as his hand returns to your throat and keeps you in place while the other traces every cut. You hiss slightly as he drags calloused fingers over every fresh cut, spreading the blood over your chest, your stomach, like an artist painting a fresh canvas. “Next time,” Chan says, a threatening tone contradicting the teasing trail his fingers are making down to your core, “you decide to test whether I’ll kill anyone who touches you,” he pushes two fingers in without resistance but it’s still enough to make you gasp. “I’ll fucking kill you, understood?”

You nod, nod furiously as he fucks his fingers into your needy cunt so harshly that you can feel your climax building quickly. Fuck, you’ll do anything, absolutely anything he wants as long as he keeps you feeling this good. So good…

Just before you cum, right as you feel yourself tipping over the edge, Chan’s hands are removed from your hole and wiped on his slacks, a cruel grin gracing his lips as he listens to your whine and beg. “Behave and maybe I’ll finish you off later.”

Oh, you’ll behave. There’s no doubt about that. None at all.

[eashmo]

~Oops, I masturbated while my boss watched~

Stray kids mafia au

Pairing: Chan x f reader possible ot8 series???

I'm back!!! Kinda .... hopefully, we shall see!

Warnings: porn, creepy Chan (jk) 👀, masturbating, watching, idk what to write just be 18+ I'm not responsible for minors geez.

I work at Venus Burlesque, which is owned by Stray Kids, whose leader is Bang Chan. Working for them is a blessing, but working for him is a curse... a sexy curse. It was all so entertaining with the gossip, the coworker affairs, Gang fights, everything. Today was everyones day off.... or so, I thought. The big boss wanted to have a video conference for planning dances, outfits, etc. Fine and danty if the guy wasn't such a asshole.

I mean, the guy is a total daddy vibe. He has that serious but sexy look in his face. Plus, the way his suits make him look is something special, it tightens around his broad shoulders, giving away that he is muscled and hot beneath all that fabric; he knows he has power, especially on women, and he knows that is damn sexy. So, has head dancer my boss would constantly call me to ask me for reports and shit, not that I hated it because it was nice to hear his smooth voice so close to my ear, to hear it once growl or whine my name would melt my brain. But today his voice will irritate me  because he's an impossible guy, I get that he's a mafia boss and everything has order but damn, I'm just a tired potato right now and I deserve to hibernate this day off.

one thing that annoyed me at times  was that he held  random meetings over video conference that could easily be an email or wait to be in person,  that made me be angry at him and hate him even more. And it was during one of these video conferences that I fucked up. 

We had the meeting at 9 am, and I overslept this morning, so I rushed through my room to get dressed, but the meeting started, and I couldn't put my panties on, all I had on was a oversized sweater.

Of course, my boss demanded everyone to turn on the cameras only to see that we were there, paying attention. Of course, I turned on my camera and made sure that nobody could see anything, just my face now seeing everyones face. I quickly gave felix and hyunjin a quick wave, which they returned happily.

The meeting began, and my boss never beat around the bush. He immediately asks everyone to report on their duties. One by one, we delivered our perspective on our tasks and made statements on the things needed to be done for the club.

My boss was overall pleased, and after 2 hours that seemed infinite, he dismissed us, and little by little people began to leave the video conference.

I closed my laptop and went to the kitchen to get breakfast, I never hit the 'x' or closed it, so when I came back to continue my work, I opened my laptop and the camera was on, I just didn't know.

So, I began to do my job, researching and filling dance plans until a pop-up came up on my computer. A porn video of a very well-equipped man was right at my face, and on top of his cock was a girl bouncing, taking his entire length inside. 

My eyes snapped open, but I couldn't close the video, the way that girl moaned and rode that cock had me hypnotized. I soon began to feel my body warming, reacting to the video. So, I leaned back on my seat, and continued to watch it, I needed a break from my job anyway. 

I moved around my seat, feeling uncomfortable from my clit rubbing against the leather of the seat, aching to be touched, but I continued to watch, without touching myself. 

I felt my nipples hardening against my sweater, and unconsciously, I began to rub them through the fabric.  My hand moved further, reaching inside my sweater feeling my nipples. I pinched my left one and pulled gently from it, increasing the temperature inside me. The video was extremely hot. The way that guy held his girl and impaled her on him was so sexy. 

I rubbed my tits right there, enjoying the video, unaware of the brown eyes that were behind that screen. I cupped my tits, massaged them and pushed them together as I felt my clit burning. 

I took off my sweater quickly, I was already sweating beneath it. I continued to rub and massage my breasts while staring at the screen. I noticed the green light on next to the camera on top of the laptop, but I didn't pay attention, I was so focused on the video and touching myself that I became unaware of everything around me. 

I reached for my bedside table and pulled out my vibrator. I rubbed it against my tits and my belly, then I opened my mouth and began to suck it, just as the girl was doing in the video. 

She was slowly working on his head, so I did the same, I swirled my tongue around the tip of my vibrator as my other hand continued to rub my nipples. Then she began to suck a little further, sliding in and out on his length, and I did the same. I slid my vibrator inside my mouth slowly, imagining it was a cock, but suddenly, the thought of my boss invaded my head now this cock was not a random cock, it was my boss' cock. 

The idea turned me on even more, being on my knees, begging him to be gentle on me as he holds my head and fucks my mouth just as he wants. I rubbed my dildo against the insides of my cheeks, I raised my leg on my chair and exposed my sex to the camera. 

I circled my clit, thinking of my boss while I watched this amazing couple fucking on my screen. Then I teased myself with my dildo and began to rub it against my entrance until it slid inside, easily.

I was so moistened it made wet sounds when I began to slide it. I continued to watch the video, thinking of my boss' cock while I fucked myself on my chair. I was supposed to be working but I wanted this so badly, after weeks of stressing over show choreography, I needed a release. 

I began to slide my vibrator further in, and then I turned it on. My eyes snapped open, and it vibrated so hard against all my right spots. I remained motionless for a second as a loud moan escaped my mouth.

Then I continued to fuck myself, sliding the vibrator in and out, I could see it leaving my pussy completely coated in my juices. I didn't stop, I thought of my boss being the one fucking me, and it pushed me so close to my orgasm that I tilted my head back and began to moan loudly, saying his name while I moved my vibrator as fast as I could.

C-Channie, you feel so good~

I tilted my vibrator inside me, making it rub the upper wall of my pussy, it felt so good that after a couple of minutes of moaning my boss' name, I began quivering and quaking on my chair, releasing a loud orgasm that came accompanied by a squirt, something I was never able to do before. 

I was surprise by how good and intense my orgasm felt, I had little spasms on my chair while I finished releasing my orgasm. The sounds of the porn video accompanied my moans, and I finished myself with a gentle rub on my entrance. 

I dropped the vibrator on the floor and remained on my chair, in the bliss of my much-needed orgasm. After I recovered from it, I stood up from the chair and cleaned up the mess I made in my room. I took my time; I wasn't going to rush to work after this. 

After I was done, I sat back on the chair,  I closed the video. My eyes snapped open, I even stopped breathing when I saw my boss on my screen, with a dark expression I couldn't read. 

Then I realized I never ended the conference on my side, and he remained there. My camera was on, my microphone was on, and everything was on! I was so embarrassed; I didn't know where to hide my face.

Suddenly, he unmuted his microphone, and his husky voice rang out in the complete silence. " y/n, I'll see you in my office tomorrow night." and that was all, staring at the black screen my mind went from bliss to complete stress in a blink of an eye, and I had no idea what was going to happen or what he wanted to talk about. 

Well shit...this meeting can become the best sex I ever have or the end of my finance stability.

Is anybody wanting a part 2? also, should it be an OT8?

[daceydeath]

Hierarchy Masterlist

Pairing: Changbin x Female Reader Word Count: 82.9k Genre: Mafia AU, Slow Burn Romance Status: Complete Warnings: 18+, Swearing, Drinking, Violence, Explicit Scenes, Murder, Torture, Trigger Warnings are in place on certain chapters

You have always been utterly uninteresting, safely boring as close. You had a normal job, normal friends and the sweetest bestie on the planet but now everything is upside down and that best friend of yours is far more dangerous than you could have ever imagined. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6  Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 - Final Chapter

[kpop---scenarios]

Monster Masterlist

Pairing: Chan x Reader x Felix

Summary: Your life turns upside down once you meet two men at your father's party, not to mention some secrets about your boyfriend are spilled. 

[18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT READ]

One

Two

Three

Four (M)

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine - FINAL

[miirohs]

get up [b.c]

pairing: Mob Boss!Bang Chan x Fem!Reader wc: 3.4k cw: reader is sick, chan is slightly toxic, reader gets grabbed, I can’t write hurt comfort 😻 an: pls pls pls once again i do not support any sort of criminal activities and anything in this fic is meant to be treated as a work of fiction !!! Inspired by nwjs get up !

You ran down the slope down the street, heels in hand as the train of your dress flew behind you.

The night air cut into your cheeks and arms, cold and wild as it whistled into your ears. It had slipped your mind to bring a coat, but your first priority was to get out. You were sick of the party and its suffocating air.

The whole evening was a blur of insincere conversations with the fakest smile you could muster, and the growing feeling of being trapped. He wouldn’t stop ignoring you, but the straw that broke the camel's back was when he snapped at you for talking to someone else in the middle of the dance floor, leading all the eyes in the room to you.

You had begged and begged Chan not to bring you in the first place, but he was relentless. You never did well in social events anyways.

However being on the streets alone might have been better than being forced to stand there for another minute.

Your head pounded as your footsteps echoed in your ears, a scraping noise that hurt your brain. The street was dimly lit by golden lights, and as you looked ahead you could see the glimmer lights of the valley. It was buzzing with energy, a stark contrast of the neighborhood you bumbled through.

It was quiet, and yet the sounds of the town still reached you.

The cold was not helping any bit, leaving you shaking as you huddled yourself closer. Your vision blurred slightly when you stopped, bones aching as you stared into the distance.

For a while you were sure you were being followed, but the clattering of something metal behind you confirmed everything. Slowly, you took off your heels, holding them before you took off.

You ran for a while, breath caught painfully in your throat as you tried to hack out the cold air. You came to a stop on a bridge, hands on your knees as you panted. There seemed to be no indication of them, and you finally relaxed, dropping the straps of your heels.

There were two resounding shots in your direction all the sudden, and you stumbled over your train, hitting your knee weirdly on the ground as you tried to run.

The aggressors finally caught up, pressing something to the back of your neck as they muttered to each other in voices you could barely recognize in your dazed state.

From your place on the ground, the lights seemed to blend together. Your body ached, and tears seemed to slip from your eyes as you faced the ground.

“Oh god she’s crying- Minho, what the fuck are we suppose to do?”

“I don’t know Changbin. I think we should let Chan take care of her-”

Minho was immediately cut off by the sound of a car rolling up. The doors opened up and they both went silent, the person holding the gun to the back of your head moving back as another pair of footsteps joined the scene.

“Why is she crying? I thought I told you to bring her back without a single scratch.”

“It’s not our fault she started running! She’s the one who should know better!”

“Watch your mouth Lee Minho. We may be friends but that’s my girlfriend you’re talking about.”

You stiffened, hanging your head as he got closer, feeling his presence directly behind you. You didn’t say anything as he lifted you up, placing you in the car before slamming the door shut to talk to Minho and Changbin, who gave the car a slight look of concern before turning back to Chan.

Minutes seemed to turn into hours as he talked, your shaking slowly ceasing. The sudden change in temperature seemed to make the headache worse, and you gripped your head, curling into a ball. Your knee also didn’t help your case.

Finally he entered the car, stern silence spiraling as the driver started on Chan's command.

He finally broke the silence, tone cold and clipped as he watched you squirm into the corner of your seat.

“Do you know how much trouble you caused me back there?”

He was staring at you with an accusatory look when you looked away, staring at your hands to avoid his face.

"I... I didn't mean to cause any trouble," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper.

He tsked, expression unreadable as city lights passed by in a blur.

His voice was measured when he finally spoke, his words punctuated as you sped down the lane. "You didn't mean to cause trouble? Yet here we are."

You curled back into a ball, wincing when your knee jerked a little from the sudden movement. When you didn’t reply, he wrenched you forward slightly, causing you to let out a whimper.

“I hope you know the consequences you caused for me. I had to put three very important deals on hold because you just had to run away. Now, I expect you to be on your best behavior when we get home, and you better not interrupt me unless it's important.” He hissed, a dangerous look in his eyes.

He let go of your arm and leaned back, staring out the window. You rubbed it, throat heavy as you tried to say something back, eventually settling into the uncomfortable silence.

When you arrived home, he immediately left the car, handing his coat to an attendant left behind to handle you. You watched him disappear into the depths of the house, a sense of isolation settling in.

You felt so incredibly shitty, and it wasn’t just the cold, but the guilt and embarrassment racking up in your stomach.

"Come, let's get you inside and warmed up," the attendant said softly, guiding you gently towards the entrance of the huge mansion. The house seemed to settle into a quiet rhythm, the noise of the world outside a distant echo as you settled down for the night, heart heavy.

Whatever it was you had only seemed to worsen over the next few days though, the soreness of your throat and muscles only getting worse. It was constantly cold and your knee seemed to be acting up despite the care you tried to give it.

You managed to keep the symptoms under wraps, but you were so tired, barely catching a wink of sleep as you wandered aimlessly in the halls.

To add injury to the insult, Chan seemed to be ignoring you, avoiding you at all times of day and barely allowing you to catch a glimpse of him. As you tried to approach him, he’d always direct you to the nearest member, walking away with the others and leaving the both of you in an awkward situation.

It was the fourth day, and you were already tired of it. Again, it went as you predicted, with Chan leaving after a curt nod to poor Jeongin, who seemed tired of being sacrificed to the tension between the both of you.

You stood in front of him, wrapping the blanket tightly around you as Jeongin watched you awkwardly.

“I don’t bite,” you joked, voice raspy from the acheness of your throat.

“I know… I know I'm… just worried? Are you okay?” You blinked for a moment, processing the question before nodding vigorously as you could.

“Yep, mhm, totally! I’m going to be okay, now do you mind walking me to my room?” You said, looking at him expectantly.

Relaxing slightly, he signaled towards the hall, holding a reluctant hand out. "Of course, let's go."

Slowly, you both made your way through the mansion's corridors, your steps slow and deliberate. You think you had a cold but it was taking far too long to recover from whatever it was you caught.

You stopped in front of your door, and Jeongin let go, a passive look on his face as you opened the door with a whooping cough. The dizziness has returned, so you’d try your best not to make a spectacle out of it.

“T-thanks Innie, i’ll be fine," you managed to say, your voice rough and strained due to the coughing fit. You gave him a weak smile, sincere despite the physical discomfort.

Jeongin returned the smile, though it was faint. "Make sure to rest well and take care of yourself," he advised softly.

You tried to reply back, but suddenly the lightheadedness that was impending hit you, causing you to collapse. The sensation was disorienting, the black ebbing into the corner of your eyes. You could hear Jeongin yelling and shaking you, but you were too tired, closing your eyes in hope your rest would be at least a little nicer now.

——————

It was warm. Soft too.

You nuzzled your head into a pillow next to your face, groaning slightly. Everything felt heavy, and you barely felt like moving from the cocoon of warmth. You rested there for a couple heartbeats, curling into the blankets.

It was useless though, as the light of the room coaxed you out of your drowsiness. You pushed yourself up, closing your eyes as you felt your knee. There was a thick bandage over it that you hadn’t remembered putting on, and it wrapped tightly so the pressure would alleviate the pain.

“You’re awake.” Your eyes snapped open again, looking wildly around the room. “Over here,” You turned your head to the doorway, Chan leaning against it, tie loosened and sleeves rolled up. He had a bag in his hand, if you didn’t know any better you’d have thought he had been casually walking by when he decided to visit.

Suddenly, the thing that was bugging you hit you like a flash, and you took a good look around the room. “This isn't my room,” You whispered raspily, looking back down at the black sheets, “what am i doing here?”

“Jeongin saw you collapse, when I came in they told me you were dehydrated and sick. I told them to bring you here so that I could monitor you instead of forcing you to stay confined to your room,” Chan stated, putting down the things he’d brought in with him.

You fell silent as his revelation, picking at your nails as he shuffled around the room.

"I brought you some stuff to help with the cold," he said, voice rough. "You should try to eat something, even if it's just a little." You could have imagined you had heard a hint of remorse, but even if it was there, it was gone in a blink.

He sat down next to you, reaching over the blankets to pull you forward. You looked at his arm, covered in tattoos and faint scars. You could almost trace them from memory, having gone over them multiple times.

He immediately noticed you doing so, palm up and fingers spread, almost as if offering to let you trace his arm once again. You didn’t take him up on it though, only staring at him with a blank look on your face. Quickly, he drew back his hand, coughing into it to cover the awkwardness of the situation.

After a while, he broke the silence, tone slightly annoyed as he eyeballed you.

“So. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?” You muttered, confused as you rolled your eyes at him.

“Tell me that you were-” He paused, running his hands through his curls with a certain frustration that seemed to roll off him. “That you were sick. You could have avoided this if you had just told me-”

“Who was the one that avoided me?” You said, glaring at him as he turned to you, face slowly contorting from the look of shock to audacity. His eyebrows furrowed as if your words had taken him by surprise. "What do you mean I avoided you? If you had told me-"

You cut him off, anger rising as he pranced around the topic. "You know exactly what I mean, Christopher. You've been avoiding me for days now. When was the last time you even said a small hi to me? You were being childish.”

He winced, obviously unpleased by the usage of his whole name.

“Look, we all mess up baby, and I'm sorry you can’t stop clinging to a mistake i made once-” You groaned, head once again pounding as you stared at his unapologetic face.

“You just don’t get it do you?”

“Excuse me?” Chan shot back, anger flaring up as he shot up out of his chair, smacking his hands on the bed.

“Leave me alone Chan, I don't want to hear it from you now! You never listen to me! Ever!” You snapped, breaking into a wild bout of coughs you’d been holding back. He rose up from his seat, nostrils flaring as he stomped over to the door.

“Fine, i’ll fucking leave you alone, maybe that’ll teach you to be nicer,” he spat, slamming the door shut, leaving you alone with the silence in the room.

It wasn't exactly how you could have envisioned the conversation going.

Eventually, the fatigue caught up with you, and you let your eyes close as you rested against the pillows. The pain in your knee that you thought had faded came back, intensifying with each passing moment and you weren’t sure you’d get a wink of rest after all that.

——————

It was roughly around the middle of the night when you woke up, head pounding. Your eyes blurred with tears, soft whimpers escaping your mouth.

You shivered under the blankets, disoriented and uncomfortable as you looked around the darkened room. The only light source was the opened curtains, the moon casting a shadow on the floor.

The door to the room opened, a soft golden light flooding in for a moment until it closed, footsteps echoing in your head. The lights beside you turned on, causing you to flinch as the light hurt your head even more.

A warm hand placed itself on your forehead, eventually moving to caress your cheek. Your body shivered involuntarily as another chill passed through you, making you feel even more sensitive to his touch.

“Looks like you have a fever, just when I thought you were getting better baby.”

You tried to turn away, but were quickly grabbed back by Chan, who came into your field of vision as he tried to check you.

“Uh uh, baby, don’t do that to me. Get up, I’m not here to fight you, just wanna care for my sick baby. How’re you gonna get better if you don’t let me in?”

You relaxed, leaning into the warmth of Chan’s hand, eyes squeezed shut tightly as you tried to keep it close to you. His thumb continued to caress your cheek gently, his touch soothing in its own way.

“It hurts,” you whined, throat constricting slightly with how dry it was. You couldn’t remember the last time you drank any water. He lifted your head gently, supporting it with his hand as he brought a glass of water to your lips.

"Here, take small sips," he instructed softly, his gaze fixed on your face as you drank. He adjusted the angle of the glass to make it easier for you, ensuring nothing spilled. After a few sips, he lowered the glass, his fingers brushing against your lips as he pulled it away. "Attagirl, that's better, isn’t it?"

You nodded, leaning against him as he sat down next to you. The slight movement of your knee from its resting place had pain jolting through your leg, causing a slight squeak to come out of your mouth.

Chan's brows furrowed as he noticed your discomfort, reaching out. "Easy there," he said softly, his hand moving to place the pillow next to him under your knee, caressing it lightly. "Don't strain yourself."

You watched him as he moved around, blocking out the sound of plastic rustling by focusing on him.

“Where were you?”

“I was just getting something done on base baby, there's no need to worry. Came here as soon as i was done,” he said, turning around to you with something in hand.

It was a couple tablets, along with another glass of water.

You reeled away slightly as he came closer, hand outstretched to offer you the medication.

Chan seemed to sense your hesitation, his expression softening, "I promise you, these are just pain relievers to help you feel better. They'll make the pain more manageable." Still you drew back, turning your head to the side.

“No. They taste weird. I can’t swallow.”

“C’mon baby, please. Do it for me at least.” Chan cooed, scooting closer till he was in your ear. “I don’t want to,” you coughed, clutching your mouth to avoid allowing your sickness to spread any further.

“Fine,” Chan muttered, turning around, “At least have a cough drop.”

As you turned around to respond, his mouth was on yours, kissing you roughly. You felt his warmth against your lips, a soothing sensation that momentarily made you forget your discomfort. For a moment you melted into it, before you felt something getting shoved into your mouth.

You didn’t even have a chance to spit it out, as Chan placed a hand over your mouth, rubbing your throat lightly to get you to swallow it. The bitter aftertaste seem to rest on your tongue, causing you to actually gag a little as Chan forced you to lie down once more. The gentle touches continued to your head, running fingers through your damp hair, untangling it as best he could with one hand.

“I promise you’ll get better baby. I know it tastes bad but you gotta trust me here, you can sleep once the medicine has taken effect and you’ll feel better.”

You nodded weakly, not having the energy to argue further. His concern was evident, even if his methods were a bit forceful. You closed your eyes, shivering slightly at the cloth he put on your forehead. As you lay there, the room seemed to spin slightly, and you held onto the blankets tightly.

The medication began to take effect, dulling the pain and making you feel drowsy. The room felt cocooned in silence, the soft rustling of the curtains and the occasional murmur of voices from outside the door creating muffled noises.

"Rest now," he whispered, almost a soft man lullaby in the darkness. You let yourself succumb to sleep in his arms, feeling the weight of exhaustion pulling you under once again.

——————

The light disturbed your sleep once again, forcing you to lazily open your eyes, looking around on your side. Chan was asleep against the headboard of his bed, mouth open slightly as he snored.

You took the opportunity to trace his arm, running circles in his arms as curled into his warmth. Even in his sleep, Chan's awareness stirred, and his fingers curled around your hand, intercepting your exploration halfway up his arm.

“What are you doing baby?” His voice was a sleepy murmur, laced with a hint of amusement. He looked down at you with half-lidded eyes, his other hand moving to your forehead, now pleasantly cool to the touch.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice cracking slightly as you looked at him. "For taking care of me, even when I’ve caused you so much trouble."

In a moment he seemed to be wide awake, looking at you with such a fragile look you felt you might have cried a little.

“It was never your fault Y/n, I shouldn’t have let it get there,” he murmured, helping you sit up against him.

"I'm sorry," he continued, his gaze unwavering as he hunched down to your level, "for not being there when you needed me. I let my pride get in the way, and I hurt you in the process."

Tears started to fall even as you were unaware, staring at him as he brought you closer.

“You cry a lot, you know.” And he kissed you.

Your tears mingled with the kiss, a mixture of joy and relief, even as you tried to push him away.

“What? Do you not like my kisses anymore?”

You shook your head as you buried it into the crook of his neck, squeezing him tighter. “Mhh. I don’t wanna get you sick.”

He chuckled, pulling the blanket over both of you as you clung to him.

"You think a little cold would keep me away?" When you didn’t respond, he shook you, getting a little jump from you in response.

“Sorry. I’m just hungry.” You muttered, groaning into his neck. “I’ll order some soup, that sound okay?” Chan offered, rubbing your sides with extra precaution.

“So long as it’s the one I like. That’ll serve as an apology enough.” You yawned, curling up against him once more.

“I missed you Chan.”

“Missed you too baby.”

[pureblisswrites]

© pureblisswrites since 2023 | All rights reserved. I do not condone any acts of plagiarism, so please avoid copying my works.

𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍

A guide to being kidnapped and escaping 101

Prologue

Chapter 1

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐇𝐎

𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎...

𝐒𝐄𝐎 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐁𝐈𝐍

𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎...

𝐇𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐍

A guide to accidental murder and cover up 101

𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐉𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆

Chill

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐗

Psycho

Bite Me

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍

𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎...

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍

A guide to falling in love with a traitor while being a mafia leader [PREVIEW]

Chapter 1

Red indicates: All these stories are a part of the mafia au and take place in the same universe.

Blue indicates: Angst

[dazed--xx]

I’m having a hard time figuring out the title for my Bang Chan regression au so I wanted to ask y’all

[tinytinyblogs]

Hello!!!

I saw your request is open and would like to ask for one! (I apologise if it's not)

Can you please write Stray kids' reactions to their s/o pulling up this prank on them? https://www.instagram.com/reel/DABkBvONJRd

Thank you!

Does My Shirt Smell?

Prank them by asking them to smell your shirt, only to lean in and kiss their forehead instead—then watch their reaction!

Hyung line, Maknae line(coming soon)

Stray Kids Masterlist 1.0 & 2.0

Your insights and reactions make these posts come alive. Love reblogs, comments, and all the good vibes welcome ✨

Chan

Without thinking much, Chan leaned in to check the smell, only to be met with a soft kiss on his forehead. A wave of warmth spread over him, and he couldn’t hide the smile that formed on his face. His lips curled into a wide grin as he looked at you, clearly delighted. He loved this kind of affection—it was unexpected and playful, just the way he liked it. "Darling, you play dirty," he said, chuckling as he spoke. His voice held a playful tone, and it was clear he enjoyed the surprise. His arms wrapped around you in a tight embrace, pulling you close. He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, mimicking the action you had just taken. "I'll take my revenge," he said with a twinkle in his eye, a teasing promise in his words. You couldn’t help but smile at his playful nature, but before you could respond, he began to pamper you with a flurry of kisses all over your face. The sudden onslaught of affection caught you off guard, and you laughed, trying to push him away gently, but he was relentless. His kisses were warm and full of affection, each one making you melt a little more. You soon gave up, surrendering to the sweetness of the moment, your laughter filling the room.

Chan pulled back slightly, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Feel this—the power of my kiss," he said, his voice still playful. "Your shirt doesn’t smell bad at all. In fact, I can only smell love between us, and it’s strong." He chuckled, the sound deep and rich, his joy unmistakable. You couldn’t help but smile at his words, feeling a surge of affection for him. His playful teasing only made you love him more. But he wasn’t done yet. "And next time," he continued with a mischievous grin, "I’ll be the one giving you this cheesy prank. You better be ready." There was something about the way he said it—half teasing, half sincere—that made your heart flutter. You knew it would be impossible to say no to him, especially when he was in this playful mood. His energy was infectious, and the way he showered you with love, even in the form of jokes and pranks, made you feel cherished and special. As you looked at him, his eyes still filled with a twinkle of mischief, you realized that moments like these were what made your relationship so unique.

Minho

It’s silent after he receives the kiss on his forehead from you. Minho stands there, caught off guard, his fingers still holding the shirt he was sniffing to check the smell as you had requested. His expression shifts subtly, the confusion in his eyes gradually giving way to realization. You can almost see the moment it clicks—he knows you pranked him. For a second, he looks like he might say something, but instead, his lips twitch upward into the faintest hint of a smile, though he tries to play it cool, as always. Before you can react, he takes a step closer, his movements deliberate and unhurried. His hand reaches out, lightly brushing against your arm, and in one swift motion, he pulls you into a kiss. His lips meet yours, firm yet tender, catching you by surprise. The kiss lingers just long enough to leave you breathless, but he doesn’t pull away completely, his lips hovering close as he speaks. “You could just ask if you really wanted a kiss,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing. A smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth, one he’s barely able to suppress.

He’s trying to maintain his usual air of indifference, but it’s a losing battle. The sparkle in his eyes betrays him, revealing the amusement and affection he can’t quite hide. He liked it—the prank, the attention, and the love you gave him—even if he didn’t show it often. Minho leans back slightly, his hand still on your arm. His gaze locks onto yours, and he tilts his head, studying your face. “There you go, another kiss,” he says softly, his tone playful yet warm. “Or should I stop?” His dark eyes glint with mischief, and you can feel the challenge in his words. You laugh, your cheeks warming, and shake your head. “Don’t stop,” you manage to whisper, your voice barely audible. His smirk deepens, and he leans in again, this time pressing another kiss to your lips. It’s softer, slower, as though he’s savoring the moment. When he finally pulls back, his thumb brushes your cheek. “Maybe my darling is craving my attention so badly they had to come up with this silly prank,” he teases, his voice dropping to a hushed, affectionate tone. “You’re lucky I love you.” He finishes with a kiss on your forehead. “Next time, just ask. You’ll get all the attention you want.”

Changbin

Once you kiss Changbin's forehead, he freezes for a moment, caught in the middle of trying to smell your shirt. His confusion is short-lived as laughter bursts out of him, loud and rich, echoing in the room. That laugh of his—it’s something you’ve always adored. It’s vibrant, warm, and so uniquely him, filling the air with joy. It’s obvious your little prank has completely amused him. You bite the inside of your cheek, fighting back your own laughter. You’re determined to keep an innocent expression, as if you have no idea why he’s laughing so much. His sharp eyes catch yours, twinkling with playful accusation. “Is that your way of sneaking a chance to kiss me?” he teases, his voice thick with amusement. His grin grows wider, and the way his laugh lingers makes it harder for you to hold your composure. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say, barely managing to keep a straight face. Changbin doesn’t buy it for a second. Shaking his head, still grinning, he steps closer. “Alright,” he says with exaggerated patience, his tone light but teasing, “you want a kiss? Here you go.”

Before you can process his words, his hands find their way to your waist, his grip firm yet gentle. He pulls you closer, the warmth of his presence immediately surrounding you. His movements are slow, deliberate, as if he’s giving you a chance to change your mind—but why would you? He leans in, his lips brushing yours in a kiss so soft, so tender, it sends a shiver down your spine. The world around you seems to fade as you lose yourself in the moment. When he pulls back, just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes lock onto yours. Those eyes—dark, intense, and filled with love—make your breath hitch. They seem to hold an unspoken promise, a quiet devotion that makes your heart swell. “Better?” he asks, his voice dropping to a playful murmur. “Or do you need more?” Before you can answer, a mischievous grin spreads across his face. He raises an eyebrow, the playful spark in his eyes unmistakable. “Or should I just attack you with kisses? You can count it as my revenge for that sweet little prank of yours,” he adds, his tone mock-threatening. Then, with a smirk, he leans in even closer, his voice low but full of teasing. “Get ready, love,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows. “I don’t have mercy when it comes to this kiss attack.”

Hyunjin

The first thing you see is Hyunjin’s irritated eyes and playful glare as you kiss his forehead. His lips purse as he dramatically wipes the spot where your lips just landed, a mock display of disapproval. “Come on, where do you even get these silly ideas?” he asks, but the lightness in his tone gives him away. There’s no real bite in his words—just a playful exasperation that makes you grin. Before you can reply, he continues, “You really need to step up your prank game. Maybe something more creative... like a kiss in the right place.” His finger points directly at his lips, and despite his effort to appear serious, a grin spreads across his face, a little too wide to be convincing. You roll your eyes, trying to play it cool, but he catches the slight flush on your cheeks. “Oh, don’t act like you’re not tempted,” he teases, his grin now bordering on mischievous. “But okay, I’ll let it go for now.” Before you can process what he means, Hyunjin pulls you down onto the couch with him, his arms wrapping securely around your waist.

The sudden closeness catches you off guard, and you yelp as he pulls you tighter against his chest. His legs wrap around you too, locking you in place as if you’re some sort of oversized teddy bear he refuses to let go of. The warmth of his embrace and the weight of him pressing against you is both comforting and slightly overwhelming. “See? Now I’ve got you right where I want you,” he murmurs into your ear, his voice dripping with teasing affection. You can feel the vibration of his words against your skin, and it sends a shiver down your spine. Hyunjin tilts his head to meet your gaze, his eyes softening as he looks at you. “I’ll make sure you get that kiss you’re so desperate for,” he says, his tone light but laced with a hint of challenge. His grin returns, mischievous as ever. “But don’t think you’ll get away without paying the price. Maybe I’ll keep you here all night... you know, to make sure you don’t try another silly prank on me.” And just like that, his laughter fills the room, pulling you into a moment you wish could last forever.

[pasaatimonarkin]

No crying in the Burlesque club I part 6

Han Jisung x reader feat. OT8 Stray kids

Mafia!au

Warnings: cursing, guns, mentions of blood, sexual language, SMUT at the end [please skip the end if you are a minor or don't feel comfortable readind smut]

Word count: 9,9k [I have no idea how it got so long]

part 5

The moments kept replaying in your mind as you got dressed. Han wiped the sweat off his forehead before zipping up his jeans. His eyes never left you and you could feel his gaze pierced on your back as you put your lingerie back on. 

As you put your dress back on, you got startled as you felt Han’s hands on your back, helping you zip up the dress. “Thank you” you whispered over your shoulder and Han gave a light kiss on the top of your head.  

“Ready?” Han asked as he moved to the door. You stepped into your heels and nodded, taking a deep breath before leaving the room behind Han. 

"Oh, you were already waiting for me?" you heard Coco flirt as she saw only Han leaving her room. 

"It's not what it looks like," Han says with a smirk, while you stand behind him, your hair a mess and a hint of lipstick smudged on your cheek. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance at her blatant disregard for your relationship, but you bite your tongue. 

You walked past Coco with a sense of defiance, wiping your mouth to indicate that you did something intimate in her dressing room. The smell of her perfume lingered in the hallway, but it was overpowered by the musky scent of sex that clinged to your skin. Your eyes never met hers, and you could feel the weight of her gaze as you pass. 

Coco's mouth opens to say something, but no words come out. You've seen that look before – a mix of surprise and annoyance. It's the look of someone who thought they had the upper hand, only to realize they were playing a game they didn't understand. Han's smirk only widens as he follows you, his hand sliding into yours. 

As you exit the club into the cool night air, Han turns to you with a glint in his eye. "I hope that was enough to prove my point," he says, his voice low and teasing. "But if it wasn't, I can always give you a repeat performance." He tugs at your hand gently, pulling you closer. You can feel the heat of his body, and the memory of his touch is still electric on your skin. 

You roll your eyes, trying to play it cool. "I think you made it pretty clear," you reply, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. Han chuckles, squeezing your hand as he opened the passenger seat door for you and you slid in to the seat. 

"I have to say that I'm proud" Han says after he takes a seat next to you. You raise your eyebrow, "Proud of what?" 

Han smiles as he does what you did when going past Coco and wipes the side of his mouth, not breaking eye contact with you. You blushed. You didn't mean to be that bold, but you also wanted To make Coco know that Han was off the market. 

"So, are we together?" you blurt out, suddenly feeling the need to clarify your relationship status. Han's smile turns into a grin as he starts the engine. "What do you think?" he asks, his voice filled with amusement. 

He shifts gears smoothly, his eyes never leaving the road as he continues. "I mean, if having sex in a someone’s dressing room doesn't scream 'exclusive', I don't know what does." You swat at his arm playfully, trying to ignore the way your stomach flutters at his words. 

"You're terrible," you say, but the smile on your face gives you away. Han's teasing is a familiar dance, one that you've both performed many times. It's his way of diffusing tension and keeping things light.  

"Come on, don't tell me you didn't enjoy it," he says, his eyes glancing at you briefly before returning to the road. "You looked like you could take on the world when you left that room." The car's headlights cut through the darkness as you drive away from the theater, leaving the sounds of laughter and music behind. 

You hesitate, then decide to ask the question that's been bothering you since the moment you left the dressing room. “I have noticed that you stopped calling me with nicknames. Why is that?" The silence stretches out between you, filled only with the hum of the engine and the sound of your own breathing. 

Han looks at you, a smile forming in his lips “It was my way of flirting. But then I stopped because your name is the sexiest pet name I know," he says, his voice a low rumble. 

You can't help but feel a warmth spread through you at his words. The jealousy from earlier had dissipated, replaced by a renewed sense of belonging. You lean back into the leather seat, watching the passing streetlights flicker across Han's profile. His hand is still in yours, and the warmth of his touch comforting. 

Once you get to the house, you both head to the kitchen, and Han starts rummaging through the fridge. You lean against the counter, watching him, the adrenaline from the encounter still coursing through your veins. You had so many thoughts flying through your mind. You had so many feelings towards Han though you weren’t sure if you should. You were kind of scared of your feelings, because you had never had a real relationship before. “I’m going to bed” you finally mumbled, not feeling like eating anything. 

Han looks over his shoulder, a question in his eyes. "You’re not hungry?" he asks, mouth full of leftover food. You smile softly at his squirrel-like cheeks, “Nah. I’m just tired”. You fidget with your fingers and look down at them before continuing. “You could join, if you want” you mumble. 

Han's smile softens, and he closes the fridge door, stepping towards you. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into him. "Is that what you want?" he whispers, his breath warm against your neck. You nod, feeling your body relax into his embrace. He kisses you gently and you can taste the salty hamburger in his lips.

You lead him to your room and began to change your clothes to comfier ones. Han takes off his clothes, leaving him only in his boxers. You can’t help but blush as flasbacks from the club fill your mind. Han climbs under the covers and you crawl into bed beside him, and he pulls the covers over you both. You lay there, nestled in his arms, feeling the steady beat of his heart. His hand traces patterns on your back, soothing the last of your nerves. You close your eyes, letting the comfort of his embrace wash over you. 

"You know," you say, your voice a whisper in the quiet room, "I don't think I've ever felt so... wanted." 

Han's hand pauses on your back, his grip tightening for a brief moment. "What do you mean?" 

You sit up, looking into his eyes. "I mean, I've had flings, and casual relationships, but nothing that's ever felt... real. Nothing that's made me feel like I could trust someone completely." 

Han's expression turns serious, his gaze holding yours. "And now?" 

You take a deep breath, feeling your heart race. "Now, I think... I think maybe I've found someone I could trust," you say, the words leaving your mouth in a rush. You bite your lower lip, waiting for his response, feeling vulnerable and exposed. 

Han's eyes searched yours, his expression unreadable for a beat too long. Then, his arms tighten around you, and he whispers, "You can trust me." The sincerity in his voice is like a balm to your soul, soothing the raw edges of your insecurities. You lean into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his chest against your cheek. 

For a moment, you're lost in the comfort of his touch, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear. Then, you pull back to look at him again, needing to be sure. "Really?" 

Han's smirk returns, but there's a softness to it now. "Yes, really," he says, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "I know it's not the most romantic declaration, but I'm not exactly Shakespeare." He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his thumb lingering on your cheek. "But if it makes you feel better, I'd say you're more than just 'wanted' to me." 

You laugh, feeling your cheeks warm at his teasing. "Well, that's a relief," you reply, poking his chest lightly. He captures your hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing your knuckles before placing it back on his chest. 

Curiosity gets the better of you, and you decide to ask a question that's been niggling at the back of your mind. "Han," you begin, your voice soft, "have you ever felt this way about anyone before?" You watch his expression, searching for any sign of hesitation or doubt. 

Han looks at you, his eyes serious. "I've had my share of flings," he admits, his voice a low murmur. "But nothing serious, no. Nothing that's made me feel... like I do with you." He runs his thumb over your hand, his gaze never leaving yours.  

The confession hangs in the air, and for a moment, you're not sure how to respond. You swallow hard, feeling a mix of excitement and fear. You've never been the girlfriend, never been the one someone talked about with that kind of intensity. You've always been the casual fling, the one who didn't get the emotional attachment.  

You decide to not ask further and press your head back on his chest, reaching your arm over his stomach. Han tightens the grip around you, “Good night” he whispers, placing a kiss on top of your head. “Good night” you mumble against his chest and close your eyes. Maybe I shouldn’t think this so deeply. We kissed, we fucked, we confessed. I should just relax, you think before falling asleep. 

- 

You were having a peaceful evening for once. It was just you, Han and Jeongin watching tv. It felt like a normal day with no operations or twirling your body for men’s pleasure. But you should have seen it coming that a evening like this would not stay like this for long. 

The sudden buzz of your phone jolted you upright. It was a message from Chan, summoning you all to his office – even you. Your heart skipped a beat. The words on the screen were commanding: "Meeting. Now." The room grew quiet, as Han and Jeongin stared at their phones, reading the same message. You knew what it meant, Strays had a new mission incoming, 

You stood up and made your way towards Chan’s office, Hyunjin, Changbin and Lee Know joining you from the garage. Han and Jeongin filed behind you as you stepped to his office. Seungmin was already there, his eyes gleaming behind thick-rimmed glasses, already had his laptop at the ready. 

Changbin leaned against the wall, arms folded. The others scattered around the room. Han was standing tall beside you, his hand resting lightly on the gun holstered at his waist.  

Chan sat at his desk. His eyes were sharp, scanning the room as you took your positions around him. He leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking under his weight, and announced, "There's a party tonight at the Golden Hall. The boss of the Blackjacks is going to be there. We need to get to him, get him to talk if he knows anything about who the Red Dragons are working with."  

Han's gaze locked with yours for a brief moment before he broke the silence. "What's the plan?"

Chan's expression grew serious. "Hyunjin, you're the bait. We need you to draw Kang’s attention." 

Hyunjin nodded, a sly smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Always happy to play the fool for the cause." 

"You're our extraction plan," Chan said, looking at Felix, "If things go south, you're to get in, grab the boss, and get out. Don't engage unless absolutely necessary. Your speed is our advantage." 

Felix nodded, the tension in his posture relaxing slightly. 

"Jeongin, you're with Hyunjin. Keep an eye on him. If things get messy, make sure he doesn't get too carried away with the act." 

"Always do, boss." Jeongin nodded. 

Chan's gaze fell on you last. "Y/N, you're with Han. Your job is to make Kang talk incase he doesn’t talk to Hyunjin". His voice was a low rumble, leaving no room for interpretation. 

The room spun around you as his words sank in. Shock ricocheted through your body like a stray bullet, leaving you stunned. Me? Taking part in a mission? Chan had been so protective that he still hadn’t given you permission to go in your own apartment or into the Burleque club alone. Now he was suddenly counting you as one participating in their mission?

"What?" You asked in disbelief "you want me to participate?" 

Han took a step closer to Chan, "Isn't it too dangerous? " 

Chan's eyes narrowed. "I know the risks, but she's part of this family now. And if she's willing to be with you, then she knows what she's signing up for." 

You eyes widened, your breath catching in your throat. Did he know about Han and me? The room felt suddenly suffocating. You searched his face, but his expression was stern like always when looking at you. 

"How long have you known?" You managed to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Chan raised an eyebrow, his eyes flicking between you and Han. "Long enough. But that's not what this is about." He leaned forward, his hands folding into fists on the desk. "This mission is too important to leave anything to chance. It's a mafia party and they want women in there, that's why every group of attending men need at least one woman" 

"How can you suddenly make me go in the heart of danger if you couldn't even let me stay at my own goddam apartment?" You ask, my voice raising with anger. 

Chan's expression remains unchanged, his gaze unwavering. "You're a part of this whether you like it or not," he says, his voice as cold as steel. "You chose to be with him, and that means you're in." 

"But I can't—" You start to protest, your voice shaking with fear and anger. 

Chan holds up a hand, silencing you with a look that could cut glass. "You can, and you will," he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. 

"Seungmin will get you the floorprints of the Hall, memorise them so you know where you are moving. Y/n you go inside with Hyunjin, Jeongin and Han. Hyunjin and Jeongin go to talk to Kang. Pretend to be interested in his group. Y/n and Han are there for look out, if he won't talk, send y/n to seduce him. Changbin will wait with the car outside in case something goes south. And like said Felix keeps eye on it outside and Lee Know is going to be prepared here" 

Your stomach twisted into knots. Seduce him? You had never been in a situation like this before.  Everyone else nodded, understanding the plan and it's risks but you couldn't get your head around it. 

"Wait seduce the boss? Who do you think I am, a hooker?" 

The room grew tense, everyone's gaze on you. Your heart raced as the reality of the situation sank in. 

"No. But considering your work, I expect you to know how to get to men. You got one of my men didn't you?" Chan said but there was no tease or joking in his voice. 

"What does that mean?" 

Chan's eyes bore into me, his voice low and measured. "It means you know how to use what you've got to get what you want. And right now, what we need is for you to get close to Kang, get him talking. Whatever it takes. Hyunjin is good at making people talk without them noticing but Kang loves women. You are our second best shot at getting him to tell about the Red Dragon’s deals." 

You felt the weight of his words, the implication clear. Your throat went dry. You just couldn’t believe that your own borther just told you to there and make a dangerous mafia boss drool for you. 

Chan's gaze moved around the room, his eyes meeting each of you in turn. "Alright," he said, his tone final. "Get ready. We leave in an hour." 

Everyone started to leave the room, going in the own rooms to get ready, get some suits on and make sure their guns were loaded and ready in case needed. You walked from the room your heart racing, Han following you closely and closing the door behind him. 

" I knew Chan would be pissed if he found about us, but this? What happened to all the you must stay safe talk?" You ask Han, the annoyance and afraidness could be heard in your voice clearly. 

"I'm not sure" Han says, his face showing the uncertainty of the situtation. But he knew he had to listen to the boss, like he had for many years. ”I don’t like this either”. 

At the same time you were slightly interested on what happened in their missions like these, but fear had the upper hand. Han took your hand in his, squeezing it tightly. ”I’m sorry” he said quietly, eyes not leaving yours. Your face softened, ”It’s not your fault. Chan hates that we went behind his back. This is his way of revenging, making us regret it. But…we can handle it, I’ll try my best” you said, trying to reassure you more than Han, 

Han's grip tightened around your hand. "I'll be with you," he assured, his voice a comforting rumble. "And I won't let anything happen to you." 

You nodded, trying to believe him, trying to believe in yourself. The walls felt closer than ever, the air thick with the weight of what was to come.  

In the quiet of your room, You stared at the mirror, eyes wide with anxiety. You had an hour to become someone else, someone who could charm a dangerous mafia boss and survive to tell the tale. You let out a shaky breath and picked a dress from the closet. A sleek, burgundy dress. It was tight, clinging to every curve, and dangerously low-cut, leaving little to the imagination. You stepped into some golden heels and opened your hair from the messy bun it had been in the day.  

Seungmin had already texted you the floorprints of the Golden Hall and you did your best to take in most of it. Memorizing how to get from room to room.

You brushed your hair before tucking it into a tight ponytail. While getting ready you had decided to act strong no matter what happened. You couldn’t give Chan the satisfaction of knowing you couldn’t handle this kind of life, because you had to. You had formed something special with Han, and you weren’t going to let it go because of him. 

You stood in front of your bathroom mirror, doing your best with your makeup. You painted on a mask of seduction, darkening your eyes and reddening your lips, until you barely recognized the woman staring back at you. Doing your own Burlesque make up had it’s advantages, making you able to make yourself look like a seductress who could charm her way out of any situation—or so you hoped. 

The door creaked open, and Han stepped into the room, his eyes scanning over you. He'd changed into a tailored black suit that hugged his frame like a second skin, a white button up shirt and a crimson tie laid against his chest.  

"You look beautiful," he murmured, his voice a warm caress that sent a shiver down your spine. His eyes lingered on your face, like he was trying to see the real you behind all the makeup.  

"Thank you," You murmured, turning to face him fully. His eyes traveled over you, lingering on the curves the dress accentuated. You could feel his desire, a silent flame that burned just as hotly as the fear that coiled in your stomach. He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. 

"You don't look bad either," You said, trying to lighten the mood. Your voice wavered slightly, betraying the nerves that danced just beneath the surface. Han's lips quirked into a smirk. 

His hand slid around your waist and pulled you into his embrace. His arms felt like steel bands, but the warmth of his body against you was reassuring. "You know I've got your back," he murmured into your ear, his breath warm against your skin. You nodded, ”I know” 

In the car on the way to the Golden Hall, the silence was palpable, the air heavy with the weight of what was to come. Changbin's knuckles were white on the steering wheel, his eyes focused on the road ahead. Hyunjin was fixing his hair in the passenger seat and You were sitting between Han and Jeongin. Felix would take his own car and be ready in case he was needed inside.

Han’s hand was resting lightly on the gun that was tucked in his pants. You could feel the tension in his body, deep in thought of what was to happen. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. 

The Golden Hall loomed in the distance. As you approached, the headlights danced across the gleaming marble facade, casting shadows  on the huge walls. The sound of music and laughter grew louder, people were chatting and smoking on the outdoor stairs. 

Changbin pulled the car to a stop at the curb, the engine purring quietly. You stepped out, a united front of deceit and danger. The cool evening air was a slap in the face, a stark reminder of the cold reality of the world you were about to enter. The scent of expensive cologne and perfume mingled with the faint hint of gunpowder, a potent cocktail of wealth and violence. 

You circled your arm around Han's, your hand coming to rest on his bicep. His warmth seeped into you, a reassuring presence in the sea of uncertainty. His eyes met yours, a silent promise of protection. For a brief moment, you felt like you could conquer the world—or at least the Golden Hall. 

As you approached the grand entrance, the bouncers eyed you with a mix of curiosity and hunger. Hyunjin took the lead, his charm oozing from every pore as he flashed them a winning smile. "We're with Kang's entourage," he announced, the lie slipping from his tongue as smoothly as silk. The bouncers nodded, their gazes lingering on your group before letting you pass. The doors swung open, revealing a world of glitz and glamour that was as fake as the smile you pasted on your face. 

Inside, the Golden Hall was a cacophony of sounds—the clink of champagne flutes, the murmur of hushed conversations, and the pulsating beat of music that thrummed through the floorboards. The air was thick with the scent of wealth and the unspoken promise of power plays. Your heart raced as you stepped into the fray, every step taking you deeper into the lion's den. 

The room was a kaleidoscope of colors, the chandeliers casting a warm glow on the faces of the unsuspecting prey mingling below.

Hyunjin and Jeongin split off, weaving through the throng of bodies like shadows. You felt a knot form in your stomach as they disappeared into the throng, leaving you and Han to navigate through the socialites and gangsters. 

You moved through the crowd. You felt like a pawn in a high-stakes chess game, each move scrutinized by the sharp eyes of the elite. You made our way to the bar. Han's hand was a firm presence at the small of your back, guiding you through the maze of bodies.

The bartender, a man with a nose that looked like it had been broken more times than he could count, gave you a nod as you approached. "Whiskey," Han ordered, his eyes never leaving the room. The man slid two glasses across the counter. You clinked your glasses together, the sound lost in the din of the partygoers. 

As you sipped the burning liquid, your eyes scanned the room, searching for any sign of the Blackjacks' boss. The crowd was a mix of the rich and the ruthless, their smiles as sharp as the knives hidden in their jackets.  

Han leaned closer, his voice a rumble in the chaos. "You okay?" he asked, his hand brushing against your lower back. 

"I'm fine," You said, thought you were everything else but fine. 

You watched as Hyunjin and Jeongin approached a group of men huddled together, their laughter growing louder as they drew near. The crowd parted for them, eager to catch a glimpse of the entertainment. You stomach twisted into knots as you recognized the man at the center—Kang, the boss of the Blackjacks. You didn’t even need to know what he looked like beforehand, his looks yelled power. His eyes were cold and calculating, his smile a mere curve of his lips that didn't reach his eyes. 

Hyunjin laid a hand on Kang's shoulder, his grin wide and infectious. Jeongin hovered at his side, a silent sentinel ready to jump into action at a moment's notice. You could see the tension in their shoulders, the way their eyes flicked around the room, searching for any sign of trouble. 

Kang's eyes narrowed slightly as he took in the two newcomers, his gaze lingering on Hyunjin's hand a beat too long before he shrugged it off. His smile remained in place, a veneer of charm over the predator beneath.  

You leaned into Han, "When do I go in?" you spoke quietly. 

”If Hyunjin doesn’t get the information needed, he will nod towards us. That’s when you go to make your move” he murmured, his eyes never leaving the group 

The music grew louder, a pulsing bass that vibrated through your chest. You watched as Hyunjin leaned closer to Kang, his laughter a little too loud, a little too forced. Jeongin hovered at the edge of the group, his eyes sharp and alert. They were playing their parts perfectly. 

"Han," You whispered urgently, "what do I do when we get to Kang?" 

His gaze never left the group, but you felt his hand tense on the small of your back. "Just play it cool," he murmured. "Be charming, be sweet, but don't give anything away." 

The knot in your stomach tightened. "And if he doesn't fall for it?" 

Han's hand slid around to your waist, his grip firm and comforting. "Then you improvise," he murmured, his eyes darkening. "Use your instincts. Pretend you are doing one of your shows, when you are the most confident. Imagine he is your audience". You nodded and sighed, feeling the warmth of the whiskey spread through you. 

As the conversation between Hyunjin and Kang grew more heated, Han's hand tightened on your waist, pulling you closer. His eyes never left the group as he murmured, "I think you need to make your move soon." 

Your heart thudded in your chest, the dress feeling tighter with each passing second. You tried to still the tremble in your voice. "Okay,” 

Suddenly, Han's hand was there, cupping your cheek, his thumb gently brushing away the bead of sweat that had formed on your skin. He looked deep into your eyes. "I'll have my eye on you at all times," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. The warmth of his touch seeped into you, a reminder that you weren’t alone in this. 

You watched as Hyunjin and Jeongin extricated themselves from Kang's group, their smiles still in place but their eyes now cold and calculating. They moved through the crowd with the grace of panthers, leaving in their wake a trail of confused and slightly annoyed-looking men. You saw Hyunjin nod towards Han who then turned back to you. "It's time," he murmured. 

You took a final deep breath, the dress feeling like it was made of lead as you stepped away from him. The crowd parted slightly, the ocean of wealth and danger opening a path for you to tread. Your heels clicked on the marble floor, the sound echoing in the vastness of the room.  

As you approached Kang the world around you seemed to slow down. The group of men parted for you, their eyes raking over you like a physical touch. You pasted on a smile as you stepped into the circle of power surrounding Kang. 

Kang's gaze slid to you, his eyes lingering on the v-cut of your dress, the way it hugged your curves. A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth as he took you in. 

You stepped closer,"I hope I'm not interrupting," you said, your voice a sweet melody that belied the turmoil inside you. 

Kang's eyes narrowed slightly, his smile never wavering. "Not at all," he replied, his voice a silky threat. "What brings a beautiful creature like yourself to a place like this?" 

"Oh, just looking for a good time," You said, trying to keep your voice steady. "I heard this was the place to be." 

Kang's gaze lingered on you, his eyes raking over your body in a way that made you want to shiver. But you held his gaze, smile never wavering. "And what makes you think you can find that here?" he asked, his tone teasing. 

"Well," you began, "I've heard a rumor that the company here is... exceptional." you let the word hang in the air, your voice a soft purr that seemed to resonate through the group of men surrounding you. 

Kang's hand slid around your waist, his touch a cold reminder of the role you were playing. You forced yourself not to flinch, instead leaning into his embrace. His eyes lit up with interest, his grip tightening slightly as he pulled you closer. "And what kind of exceptional company are you looking for?" 

"The kind that knows how to bargain," you murmured, your hand resting lightly on his chest. His heart was a steady thump beneath your fingertips, a stark contrast to the frantic beating of your own. 

Kang's smile grew wider, his eyes gleaming with interest. "I might know a thing or two," he said, his voice a dangerous purr. "But first, tell me your name, beautiful." 

"Call me Luna," you said, the pseudonym rolling off your tongue like a well-practiced lie. His thumb stroked the bare skin above your dress's waistline. The touch sent a shiver down your spine, but you didn't pull away. 

"Luna," he repeated, his voice a caress. "A name as enchanting as the woman who bears it." His eyes traveled down to your lips, and you could almost see the cogs turning in his mind, calculating his next move. 

"Kang," you responded, your voice a coy purr. "I've heard you're quite the poker player. Perhaps I could be your lucky charm tonight?" 

The room seemed to hold its breath as Kang's eyes lit up, the challenge clear in his gaze. He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. "Is that so?" he murmured, his hand sliding down to rest on the curve of your hip. "I'd be more than happy to see if your luck holds up at the table." 

Your heart raced as he led you through the crowd, his grip on your hand firm and possessive. The poker room was a stark contrast to the raucous party outside—the air was thick with the tension of unspoken threats and the scent of money. The green-felted tables gleamed under the harsh lights, the chips glinting like the eyes of predators ready to pounce. 

Kang pulled out a chair for him, the leather creaking under his weight as he took his seat. You positioned yourself behind him and laid your hands on his shoulders.  

The poker game was fast and furious, the air thick with tension and the scent of money changing hands. Kang's eyes never left the cards, his mind a whirlwind of strategies and bluffs. Each play was a dance, a silent conversation that spoke of power and control. His opponents were seasoned players, their faces a mask of indifference as they raised the stakes. 

With a flourish, Kang laid down his hand—a straight flush. The room erupted into a mix of gasps and murmurs of respect. The opponents' shoulders slumped in defeat, their pockets significantly lighter. Kang's smirk grew wider, his eyes gleaming with triumph as he leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking beneath him. 

"Impressive," you murmured into his ear, your voice low and intimate. His gaze flicked to you, a predatory gleam in his eyes that sent a thrill of fear down you. He took a sip of his whiskey, the ice cubes clinking against the glass. "You're quite the player, Mr. Kang." you continued as you took a seat on the armrest of his chair. 

He placed his hand to rest on your thigh. "And you, Luna, are quite the lucky charm," he said, his voice a gruff rumble. His thumb stroked your skin in an intimite gesture. 

"Perhaps we could make a trade," you whispered, your voice a seductive purr. His eyes narrowed, the gleam of interest in them sharpening. "Your secrets for my... company." 

Kang's smile grew predatory, his hand squeezing your thigh slightly. "What makes you think I have any secrets worth sharing?" 

You leaned in closer, your breath tickling the shell of his ear. "Call it a hunch. And I'm sure I can make it worth your while." 

Kang considered your offer, his thumb continuing its slow, rhythmic stroking of your thigh. "What exactly are you proposing?" His voice was a low growl, the hint of a challenge in his tone. 

"A simple exchange," you purred "I want to know about your dealings with the Red Dragons." 

Kang's hand stilled, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. For a moment, you could see the wheels turning in his mind, weighing the cost of his secrets against the allure of the unknown. "The Red Dragons, you say?" He took a long sip of his whiskey, his gaze never leaving yours. "What makes you think I would have any dealings with them?" 

You gave him a knowing smile,"Let's just say I know how the wind blows in this city," you whispered, leaning closer so that your breath danced across his cheek. "And I can feel the heat of their breath on my neck." 

Kang's eyes narrowed, his grip tightening on the whiskey glass. "And what makes you think I'd tell you anything?"  

With a boldness that surprised even you, you slid onto his lap, your dress hiking up just enough to reveal the edge of your garter. His eyes darkened, the pupils dilating slightly as he took in the sight. You placed your hand on his chest. 

"Let's just say I have a... vested interest in their business. And I'm willing to make it worth your while to share what you know." 

"What makes you so eager for this information, Luna?"  

"Let's just say I'm a woman who knows what she wants," you murmured. 

Kang's eyes never left yours, his hand tightening slightly on the whiskey glass. "And what makes you think I would be so easily swayed by a pretty face and a... willing disposition?" His voice was a silky threat, the challenge clear. 

"Because," you whispered, your teeth grazing his earlobe, "I'm not just any woman." your hand slid up his thigh, your fingertips grazing the bulge in his pants. His breath hitched, and for a moment, you thought you had him. 

But then, his hand shot out like a snake, grabbing your wrist and squeezing hard. "Careful," he warned, his voice low and dangerous. "You might not like what you find if you play with fire." 

You yanked your hand back, the pain sharpening your focus. "I can handle the heat,".  

Kang's grip on your wrist didn't loosen, but his gaze softened slightly. "I don't doubt it," he murmured, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin of your inner wrist. "But the price for my secrets isn't one to be paid lightly." 

You swallowed hard, the weight of the mission pressing down on you. "Name your price”. 

"I want you in private," he said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate through the very air. "Where we can... talk more freely." 

You nodded, your heart racing as you slipped off his lap. The room felt like it was closing in on you. You knew what he meant by "talk," and the thought made you nauseous. Had you gone too far with the act? But you couldn’t back now. 

Kang stood, his towering frame casting a shadow over you. He took your hand and led you through the labyrinth of the Golden Hall. The music grew fainter, the laughter more distant, until you reached a corridor that smelled faintly of cigar smoke and leather. He opened a door that led you to a bedroom.  

The room was dimly lit, the only illumination coming from the flicker of candles scattered on the nightstands and dresser. The king-sized bed was the centerpiece, draped in luxurious fabrics that whispered of secrets and power plays. Kang walked over to the bar, pouring two glasses of amber liquid. He handed one to you, his gaze never leaving yours. 

"Drink," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. You took a sip, the whiskey burning a path down your throat, warming your insides. He took a sip of his own too. The silence stretched out, the tension in the air so thick it could be cut with a knife. 

"Now, about the Red Dragons. I want to know who they have deals with" you said, setting your glass down with a delicate click. 

Kang's smile grew, a cold gleam in his eye. "Ah, yes," he said, leaning against the bar. "The infamous Red Dragons. They don’t have deals. Only one, a bigger party they're dealing with."  

You took another sip of whiskey, your hand steady despite the racing of your heart. "What party is that?" you asked. 

Kang chuckled, "The kind that makes even the bravest of men tremble," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "But let's not get ahead of ourselves. You should pay your part of our trade" 

With a nod, you took a step closer to the bed, heels clicking against the marble floor. You sat on the edge, legs crossed, keeping your composure despite the racing thoughts in your head. Kang followed, his footsteps deliberate and predatory. He sat beside you, the mattress sinking slightly under his weight. His hand rested on your knee, his thumb making slow circles, a silent reminder of the power he held. 

"The group they deal with," you prompted, "What is it?" 

Kang's gaze remained locked on yours, his hand sliding up your thigh "A group so powerful, even I dare not speak their name aloud," he murmured, his thumb tracing the lace of youe garter. 

With a slow, deliberate movement, you leaned in, placing your hand on his chest to push him back onto the bed. He allowed himself to be moved. The bed's softness seemed to swallow him whole as he lay down, his expression a mix of arousal and anticipation. You slid closer to him, your hand moving to his belt buckle. 

"Tell me the name" you whisper, while slowly unbuckling his belt. Every inch of you felt nauseous of what you were doing, but you were so close to the answer. 

Kang's eyes glinted with amusement as he watched you, his chest rising and falling with every breath he took. "Not so fast," he murmured, placing a hand over yours. "First, I want to hear you beg for it." 

You clenched your jaw, the taste of the whiskey in your mouth turning sour. But you knew this was part of the game, so you leaned closer, "Please," you breathed, "I need to know. Tell me who they're working with." 

Kang's smile grew, his eyes gleaming with triumph. "The name you seek," he murmured, his hand sliding up to cup your cheek, "is the Snake." His thumb stroked your bottom lip. "But you must understand, Luna, that knowing the name of the Snake is only the beginning. It's like holding a cobra by the tail—dangerous and deadly." 

You nodded, trying to keep your revulsion hidden. "I understand," you whispered, your hand still on his belt. The need to escape was a living, breathing thing inside you, clawing at your thoughts. But you knew that any sign of fear would be a mistake. 

Slowly, you rose to your feet, hand trailing away from his body. His gaze followed your every movement, his breath growing heavier as you reached for the zipper of the dress. You pretented to start unzipping it. 

With a sudden burst of speed, you spun away from the bed. Your heart hammered in your chest as you sprinted towards the door. Kang's surprised grunt echoed through the room, and you knew he was already on his feet, moving to stop you. Your hand trembled as it reached for the doorknob. You twisted it, the door swinging open, and you slipped through, slamming it shut with a resounding thud. 

And there Han was, leaning against the wall, his eyes wide with shock as he had been listening to your conversation. He grabbed your hand, his grip firm and reassuring. "We have to go," he hissed, pulling you into the shadows of the hallway. 

The door to the room slammed open behind you, Kang's enraged shout echoing down the corridor. "You little whore!" His footsteps were like thunder as he pursued us, his fury palpable. 

Han's grip on your hand was ironclad, pulling you through the maze of the Golden Hall with a sense of urgency that bordered on panic. The opulent surroundings were a blur as you darted through the crowd, dodging the grasping hands of drunken patrons and the suspicious glances of the Blackjacks' guards.  

You didn't speak, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as you ran. Your feet stung with every step, but the pain was a distant echo compared to the fear coursing through your veins. You looked over your shoulder to see Kang running through the mass with his guards trailing behind you. Panic surged through you and your heart was racing so fast it threatened to burst through your chest.  

Han's grip tightened on your hand as he pushed through the crowd. His jaw was set, determination etched into every line of his handsome face.  

Hyunjin and Jeongin were waiting at the door. 

"We have to move," Han barked, his voice low and urgent. "Now." 

The four of you broke through the guards' line like a battering ram, their eyes widening in surprise as you barreled past. The cold air hit you in the face but you didn’t stop running. 

Changbin was waiting in his car and as he saw you four running for your life, Kang and his men behind you, he started the car.  

You dove into the car, the leather seats sticking to your bare skin. Han slammed the door shut behind you. Changbin didn't bother to ask questions, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror before he floored the gas pedal. The engine roared to life, the tires squealing as you shot away like a bullet from a gun. 

your chest was heaving as you tried to catch your breath. The adrenaline still pulsed through your veins. Han's arm was around your shoulders, his hand squeezing gently in reassurance. Jeongin was quiet beside you, his usual smirk gone, replaced by a look of grim determination. 

As the car sped away from the Golden Hall, the lights of the city flashed by in a blur. The sound of the engine was a comforting roar in the silence that had fallen over the four of you. You couldn't believe you had done it, that you had gotten the information and escaped Kang's clutches.  

Turning to face Han, you finally found your voice. "Holy shit, I did it," you exclaimed, a mix of disbelief and triumph coloring your voice. 

"You did," he said, his expression a blend of pride and concern. His eyes searched yours, his hand still on your shoulder, grounding you in the reality of your successful escape. 

Hyunjin turned to look at the backseat and you "So, who are the Red Dragon's working with?" 

You took a deep breath, still trying to compose yourself from the chaos of the last few minutes. "The Snake," you murmured, the name feeling like venom on your tongue. "He said they're working with someone called the Snake." 

Hyunjin's eyebrows shot up, his eyes glinting with interest in the rearview mirror. "The Snake?" he repeated. "That's big. They're a shadowy group, even for our world. No one really knows who they are, but their influence is everywhere." 

"Red Dragon's have made a dangerous deal" Changbin said, voice low. 

Once you got back to the house, everyone else made their way to Chan's office, to tell about the information you had just learned. You couldn’t follow them, you had to get to your own room. All the adrenaline and fear felt like seeping you away. 

You stumbled into your room, the door slamming shut behind you as you leaned against it, gasping for air. Your legs felt like jelly, threatening to give out beneath you. You had never felt so dirty, so violated. The taste of Kang's whiskey was still on your tongue, a bitter reminder of the man's touch. You unzipped your dress and let it fall on the ground. 

Stumbling over to the bed, you collapsed onto it, the mattress sighing under your weight. You could still feel his hands on your skin, his breath hot against your neck. You shivered, wrapping your arms around yourself in a desperate attempt to find some semblance of comfort. 

You felt a mix of proudness, fear and disgust. You were proud that you actually were useful and surprised even yourself with all the things you managed to say in the situation. You felt fear from thinking about how easily he could have killed you or made sure you could have never left that bedroom. Everything could have gone wrong. And finally you felt disgusted about the way he touched you, like he tainted you with his touch. 

The door opened, and Han stepped in, his eyes scanning you from head to toe. He closed the door with a soft click, the sound echoing through the quiet room. He didn't say a word, just approached the bed, his expression a mix of anger and concern. He sat down beside you, his hand tentatively reaching out to touch your shoulder. 

"Are you okay?" he whispered, his voice hoarse with unspoken rage. 

You nodded, your eyes squeezed shut as you tried to push the memories away. "Yeah," you croaked, "just disgusted. I can still feel his touch on my skin." 

Han's grip tightened, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your shoulder. "It's over now," he said, his voice a soothing "You're safe." 

But the feeling of disgust lingered, a thick film coating your soul. You couldn't help but feel like you had lost a piece of yourself in that room with Kang. 

Han's touch was gentle, but firm. He leaned in, his warm breath fanning over your skin. "May I help?" he asked, his voice a tender rumble that seemed to resonate in your very bones. 

You nodded, unable to find the words to express the tumult of emotions churning within you. He began by kissing the nape of your neck, his lips moving in a slow, deliberate pattern. His hands followed the contours of your body, tracing the curves and valleys as if committing them to memory. It was as if he were trying to erase the memory of Kang's touch with his own, to replace the feel of Kang's cold hands with the heat of his own passion. 

Han's kisses grew more insistent as he moved down your body, his lips pressing against your collarbone, your breasts, your stomach. Each touch was tender, a silent apology for what had transpired.  

Finally, his eyes met yours again. You knew what he was trying to do—erase the horror of the past hour, replace the touch of the monster with the gentle caress of the man you loved. And so, with a tremulous smile, you reached up and cupped his cheek, drawing him back up to you. You brought his mouth to yours in a kiss that was more than just passionate.  

Your kiss grew more intense, his tongue exploring your mouth as if he could taste the fear and replace it with something sweeter. His hands slid over your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. With each touch, the tension in your body began to unravel, your muscles relaxing under his ministrations. 

He pulled away, his eyes searching yours. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice rough with emotion. 

You nodded, your voice stronger now. "I need this," you whispered. "I need you." 

With a gentle nod, Han stood, taking off his jacket and shirt, revealing the taut muscles of his chest. His eyes never left yours as he undid his belt and let his pants fall to the floor. His movements were deliberate, a silent promise that he would not hurt you, that he would not take without asking. 

He climbed onto the bed, his body sliding over yours. He kissed you again, his hands framing you, his thumbs wiping away the tears that had escaped your eyes without you even noticing it. Your kiss deepened, the taste of whiskey fading as the familiar scent of him filled your nose. 

Slowly, carefully, Han began to explore your body again. His touch was feather-light, as if he were afraid to break you. He kissed away the tracks of Kang's fingers, His hands slid over your hips, your waist, your breasts, each touch a declaration of ownership, of love. 

He moved down your body, his lips leaving a path of sweet agony. When he reached your inner thighs, he paused, his breath hot against your skin. His eyes met yours, and you nodded, giving him the permission he sought. He kissed you there, his mouth tender. His kisses were like a balm, a gentle reminder that you belonged to him, and him alone. 

With a swift, smooth motion, Han swept off your panties, the fabric fluttering to the floor like a discarded piece of the past. The cool air hit your skin, sending a shiver up your spine. But it was his touch that followed, his mouth that set your body ablaze. He kissed and licked, his teeth grazing your sensitive flesh, and you moaned 

The world outside the bedroom door fell away, forgotten in the face of Han's love. His hands held you in place, grounding you as his mouth moved. Each flick of his tongue sent waves of pleasure crashing through you, pushing the fear and revulsion further and further away until all that was left was the here and now, the feel of him. Your legs trembled, hips bucking as the pressure built, a dam ready to burst. 

”H-Han” you whispered, the sound of his name on your lips was a prayer, a desperate plea for release. He sucked harder, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs, and you could feel the dam giving way, the wall crumbling under the relentless force of his love. The orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, your body arching off the bed as you moaned.  

As the tremors subsided, Han slid up your body. He kissed you again, a soft, gentle press of his lips to yours, his tongue dancing with yours. 

"I want to make you forget any feelings of him touching your skin," he murmured, his voice a promise in the quiet of the room. His hands skimmed over your body, not seeking to claim, but to heal. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as if your were made of the most delicate glass. 

"Do you want this?" 

You nodded, "Yes," You whispered, the word a plea for salvation. 

With a fierce determination, Han claimed your mouth once more. His hands continued their exploration, moving over your skin. 

He slid one hand lower, his fingers ghosting over your stomach before finding the apex of your thighs. As he touched you, his fingers parted your folds, the contact sending a bolt of electricity through you. 

He began to circle your clit with his thumb, the sensation sending waves of pleasure that crashed against the lingering fear. You bit your lip to keep from crying out, the tension coiling tighter with each pass.

As his hand moved lower, his fingers sliding into you, your body arched. He filled you with a gentle pressure. His thumb continued to work its magic, the friction building until you could feel the beginnings of a new climax. His eyes never left yours. 

He knew exactly how to touch you, how to make you feel safe again. His movements grew more insistent, his hand working hard. You moaned into his mouth, your hips moving in a silent plea for more. 

He obliged, his fingers sliding deeper, the friction against your sensitive inner walls sending jolts of pleasure through you. Your nails dug into his back, your body responding to the delicious invasion.  

As the orgasm washed over you, your body spasmed around his fingers, your hips bucking against him as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you. The room fell away, leaving only the sound of your gasps and his steady breathing.  

Han's eyes searched yours, a silent question in their depths. "Do you need me to stop?" 

You shook your head, reaching up to pull him closer. "No," you murmured, my voice a whispered caress. "I want you, Han." 

With a nod, he kissed you softly. He slid his hand down your body, his fingers teasing the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh before gently pushing them apart.  

He positioned himself at your entrance. His eyes never left yours as he pushed into you, filling you completely, the sensation overwhelming and perfect. You bodies moved together.  

Han's strokes were slow and deliberate, each one designed to erase the memory of Kang's touch. He took his time, savoring every inch of you. His love was a fire that burned away the darkness, leaving only the warmth of his embrace. His hips rolled, a gentle rhythm that matched the beating of your heart. 

You needed to feel him deeper, you whispered, "Harder." His eyes flashed, a spark of something primal and raw lighting up the depths of his gaze. 

"Say it again," he rasped, his voice a harsh whisper. "Tell me what you need, y/n." 

You took a deep breath, your voice a shaky whisper. "Harder."  

Han's eyes lit up with something feral, something possessive. He leaned down, his mouth finding your ear. "Again," he urged, his voice a growl.  

"Harder," you gasped out, the words barely audible. 

With a low growl, Han complied, his hips driving into you with an intensity that stole your breath. Each thrust sent a wave of pleasure crashing through you, obliterating the lingering shadows of fear and disgust.  

Your nails dug into his back as he moved faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin a cacophony of passion in the quiet room. His hand slid down to your hips, his grip firm as he held you in place, his other hand cupping your cheek. 

His strokes grew deeper, his breaths coming in ragged pants.  

Han's hand slid down your body, his thumb brushing against your swollen clit with a feather-light touch. The sensation sent you spiraling over the edge, your body clenching around him as you screamed out his name.  

The climax shuddered through you, the intensity of it leaving you gasping for air. But Han didn't stop, his hips moving in a relentless rhythm that sent aftershocks of pleasure through you. His breath was hot against your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he claimed you in the most primal way possible. 

Han's climax hit him like a bolt of lightning, his body tensing as he groaned your name. His eyes squeezed shut, his mouth open in a silent roar as he spilled himself inside you.

Finally, with a shudder, he rolled over to catch his breath, his chest heaving against the sweat-dampened sheets. For a moment, you laid there, your hearts pounding in sync, the only sound in the room the harsh intake of your breaths. 

Han lifted his arm, inviting you into his embrace. You didn't hesitate, curling into the warmth of his body, you head fitting perfectly into the crook of his neck. His arm tightened around you, his hand gently stroking your back in a soothing pattern that lulled you into a state of semi-consciousness.  

You laid there in silence for a while, but then Han broke the silence, his voice a gentle rumble in the stillness. "Are you okay?" he asked, his words a warm caress. 

You took a moment to gather your thoughts, the echoes of pleasure still resonating through your body. "I will be," you murmured, your voice muffled against his chest. "Thank you." 

Han's hand stilled on your back, his thumb tracing lazy circles. "You never have to thank me for loving you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "And you never have to go through something like that alone." 

He pulled away slightly, his eyes searching your face in the dim light. "What Kang did...it's not your fault. You're not tainted, y/n. You're strong, you're brave, and you're mine." The conviction in his voice was unshakeable. 

"I love you," he said almost whispering.  

You were caught off guard with his confession. A wave of warmth flashed in your chest as you looked him into his eyes. They were fillled with love, pure and unfiltered. 

"I love you, too," you whispered, the words a soft exhale. His eyes lit up at your admission, the corners of his lips tugging up in a gentle smile. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips.