#e you girls who have struggled just to be a girl I love you girls--

[niningtori]

for the hope of it all | parts i-iii

pairing(s): choi beomgyu x you, choi soobin x you

summary: you've been in love with beomgyu since the first time you saw him, but he sees you as nothing more than a good friend and faithful wingwoman. when he asks you to help him catch another girl, who just so happens to be one of your closest friends, things get complicated.

genre: ANGST, melodrama, romance, smut (mdni)

warnings: smut (mdni), beomgyu is a fucking asshole, manipulative!gyu, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering (vaginal), oral (f. receiving) dirty talk, praise, if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 18.7k

notes: ... hi. literally nobody asked for this, but i realized that part 2 of this work didn't even show up in the tags, so i decided to compile all of the previous parts as well as the ending together. hopefully, you all enjoy this. i'm still struggling, but i pray you all still like it even if it's not me at my best. feedback is always appreciated :) thank you!

part i: august

beomgyu really likes her — like, really— and who can blame him? you certainly can’t. chaewon is a lovely, lovely girl, so it should come as no surprise when beomgyu asks you to, in his words, help him bag her. you’re not one with a particularly strong character at the best of times, so when he practically begs you to convince one of your closest friends that he’s actually not the heartbreaking manwhore he definitely is, you can’t find it in yourself to say no.

it doesn't help that he has enough charisma to charm even the most indifferent target he sets his eyes on, it doesn't help that he's so handsome it makes everyone either want him or want to be him, and it most certainly doesn't help that you've been in love with the boy for the entire time that you've known him. him asking absolutely anything of you would result in you relenting, so when he asks for something as seemingly inconsequential as setting him up with a mutual friend, accepting it is a matter of course. does it hurt your heart to see him pining after someone else when you basically consider him as your soulmate? of course. but his happiness means more to you than your own. if she makes him happy, then so be it.

that's what you tell yourself, at least.

-

beomgyu doesn’t know that you love him — he can’t possibly know — or else he’d treat you differently, right? you don’t want that. you don’t want anything to change, at least not in the disastrous way you anticipate confessing your love to him would go, so you’ve kept your feelings close to your chest to keep him from suspecting anything. you think you’ve gotten pretty good at concealing your feelings. for example, you laugh when he tells you about his sexual escapades, and you don’t hesitate to give him advice on how to woo the girls who are wary of his lasciviousness. you only want to show him the good parts of you, carefully tucking any ugly seeds of jealousy or sadness away from his prying eyes.

the thing is, though, beomgyu is not stupid; and to your never-ending misery, you are not the greatest actress. he can see the crestfallen look on your face for the split second before you can contort your features into a smile. he can hear the tremble in your voice as you force out a laugh. with his godforsaken intuition, he can sense the hesitation in your movement when you playfully push him aside as he over-dramatically recounts his latest raunchy fuck. 

all of this has no discernible consequence, though. if anything, your feelings have been his faithful friend and ally when it comes to conspiring with you to land whatever girl piques his interest at the moment. you may not be a prospective partner, but you are a great wingwoman, he’ll give you that much. and that’s exactly what he needs when dealing with chaewon, who has proven to be a particularly tough nut to crack. he doesn’t usually go for people he would consider friends, if only because he doesn’t like dealing with the messy aftermath, but her refusal to look his way is just too entertaining. he has no earthly idea why this cat and mouse game intrigues him the way it does, but he’s hooked like none other, especially because her reasons for pulling away when she’s definitely as attracted to him as he is to her are unclear. maybe she just doesn’t want to seem easy? whatever it is, he likes it. he likes her.

-

“so what's the plan?” soobin asks. 

“what do you mean?” you blink as you turn towards him, effectively taken out of your daze. you've been staring at a new instagram picture of beomgyu for at least ten minutes now. there's not much going on in it — it's just a candid taehyun took of him — but you can't stop the yearning you feel in your heart as you wish you had been the one to take it, instead.

“i mean, what's your big plan to ‘help’ him this time?” there’s a trace of resentment in his tone as he puts air quotes around “help”. you know he thinks you're just wasting your time on a boy who will never feel the same way you do, but what can you do? you still love him.

“i’m… i’m just going to talk him up to chae, no big deal,” you say rather unconvincingly, because it is a big deal. it’s the biggest deal in the world to you.

“and what are you gonna say? ‘hey, i know you know beomgyu is garbage, but deep down, he’s actually not garbage even though, even deeper down, he really is?’” his words are sarcastic and, for lack of a better term, downright hateful. 

“he’s not garbage, binnie,” you chastise. “he’s actually really sweet once you get to know him.”

“sweet? sweet how, exactly?” he sneers. you just sigh and shake your head. beomgyu is a frequent point of contention in your friendship with soobin, but you don’t know how to overcome it. mostly, arguments surrounding him devolve into conversations like the one you’re having right now. 

“he puts on a tough act, but he’s not really like that on the inside,” you insist. “you just don’t know him like i do.”

“and thank god for that,” he snorts, and you frown. you can tell he feels guilty by the way his expression immediately softens. 

“hey, i’m sorry,” he says, tucking your hair behind your ear. “i just don’t like to see you hurting.”

“i’m not hurting,” you lie. “i’m totally fine. it’s just… i just want to see him happy.” you actually do mean that last part. beomgyu, though seemingly carefree, is actually a lot more insecure and sensitive than one might think. you know this because he’s shown you that side of him many, many times, which must mean that he trusts you like no one else. you are honored to be the one he feels comfortable with, and even if it never amounts to anything more than that, you’re thankful you get to see how he really is. 

“and you think being with a new girl every week will make him happy?” he softly asks, no edge to his voice, but his words hurt even more than they did before.

“it's different this time, binnie. i'm serious. i've never seen him like this before. i think he really likes her.” and the words almost kill you to say, but you mean them, anyway. 

“okay,” he relents. “just do what you want to do. i’ll be there for you no matter what.” 

“thank you,” you reply with a small smile, before putting your nose back into your phone and staring at beomgyu’s pictures again. you don’t catch it, but soobin sighs as he watches you. 

-

you’ve been trying really, really hard. usually, all you have to do is talk about good points about beomgyu, and women fall for it hook, line, and sinker. chaewon is not most women, though, and she makes that abundantly clear with the polite smiles and airy laughs she gives you when you try to bring up beomgyu. 

you don't get it. if you had beomgyu’s attention, you’d never let it go, so it makes no sense to you how someone could have it without taking the opportunity to seize it. if it were you, you’d seize it. if it were you, you'd tell him you’ve loved him since the first time you saw him. if it were you — well, it doesn't really matter, does it? because it isn't you. still, you can’t help but dream.

the sentiment that it will never be you becomes clearer and clearer as you watch beomgyu try to initiate conversation with chaewon at his very own house party you are currently attending. you watch from the sidelines as they sit uncomfortably close together, legs flush against one another, as beomgyu wraps his arm around her shoulder and pulls her in to whisper in her ear. you like to think you’re content with him being with her even if it means you’ll be without him, but it’s difficult to feel that way when you actually see it playing out before you. your heart feels like stone weighing heavily in your chest as she giggles at whatever he says, and you think that things might start looking up for him before her smile suddenly melts into a little frown. 

without warning, she pries his arm off of her and gives him a perfunctory smile before standing up and smoothing out her skirt. then, she grabs her drink from the coffee table and he's left alone. his previously delighted expression is now filled with irritation and disappointment. you're still staring at him, just trying to get a read on the situation as you're left reeling, and before you know it, he's looking up at you. you're a little embarrassed at being caught, but you realize you can play your intrigue off as objectively analyzing the situation in order to help him better. surely he’ll fall for that, right? every time you say something similar, he buys it with no further questions.

he makes eye contact with you then nods towards his room as a silent plea to talk to him in private. if someone were to ask you how you’re able to deduce all of that from one look alone, you’d probably say it’s because you know beomgyu like the back of your hand — and maybe you do, but it’s like a subconsciously trained reaction more than anything. just as you know what beomgyu will do next, he knows you’ll understand his seemingly innocuous gestures. 

you head up the stairs and beomgyu shuts his bedroom door behind you. you prepare to launch into your readymade explanation as to why you were rubbernecking earlier, but he speaks before you can say anything at all.

“why isn’t it working?” he huffs. “did you talk to her like i asked you to?”

“yes, of course i did!” you eagerly insist. you would never lie to beomgyu — well, not about this, at least. your secret feelings are another story. 

“then why does she keep rejecting me?” he huffs. you wish you could answer him. truly, you do. you scramble for the right words, but you sincerely can't wrap your head around her logic, or lack thereof. 

he’s still waiting for an answer, though, so you think back to the recent conversations you’ve had with soobin, and you realize there’s only one plausible conclusion. 

“she just doesn’t know you enough, beoms. if she knew how you really are and how much you like her, she wouldn't act this way; but honestly, she probably thinks you’re just messing with her,” you explain, and you hope beyond hope that he doesn’t take it the wrong way. you don’t want to hurt his feelings by suggesting that his (newly) former playboy ways could be ruining his chances with her.

beomgyu’s feelings, of course, are not hurt. in fact, he just feels more annoyed than anything else. it’s really fucking irritating how he can’t seem to get a read on her or her intentions. she likes him, he can definitely tell, so what’s the problem with him having a messy past? it’s clear that it doesn’t bother you. well, it does, but in a different way. you’d forgive his previous transgressions in a heartbeat if it meant that he’d look your way, so why can’t she be the same? but then, he supposes that comparing someone as lovesick as you are to a normal girl is a bit unfair. 

but why are you so lovesick? it’s obvious that he’s handsome and funny, so falling for him is only natural, but your devotion is on another level. not only that, but you’re devoted in spite of the fact that he clearly wants nothing to do with you. in all honesty, it’s almost like you love him even more when you see him chasing after somebody else... then suddenly, the solution is clear. he has to make her think he doesn’t want her; and the easiest way to do that is to pretend he’s interested in someone else. in the same vein, who better else to pretend with than one of chaewon’s closest friends? you’re absolutely perfect for the job.

beomgyu’s demeanor goes from irritated to self-satisfied, and it puzzles you to no end. maybe he figured out a way to show his true feelings for her? but then why is he looking at you with such intensity? he’s never looked at you this way in the many years that you’ve known him. wait, did he realize something?  please, god, don’t let that be the case. you really don’t think you can —

and your train of thought is stopped when beomgyu strides over to you and locks the door behind you. you look up at him with confusion in your eyes before you finally register what that intense gaze of his really is: predatory.

suddenly, his lips are on yours and you’re holding back a squeal. your eyes widen as he cups his big hands around your cheeks and pulls you in even closer. he tastes like alcohol, which is to be expected, but there's a certain uniqueness to his taste that you can't really put into words; and you’re able to taste it even more as his tongue enters your mouth. you groan at the action, and surprisingly, he does, too. 

you always assumed kissing beomgyu would make you feel like everything was finally right in the world, and it does — it really, sincerely does — but there’s also a certain spark you were not anticipating. something a lot more fiery, and it shoots straight to your core as your tongues tangle together lasciviously. beomgyu seems to know this, and he smirks into the kiss before trailing his warm mouth down your neck. you gasp at the sensation, which just makes him laugh. 

his hands have traveled from your cheeks to your chest, one staying there to grab at your tits while the other one carelessly finds its way up your skirt. 

“so wet,” he whispers in awe when he rubs his fingers against your soaked panties. “is this all because of me?” you feel your cheeks warm and you’re stammering out your next words.

“w-well, i —” 

“is this all because of me?” he repeats, and you give him a feeble nod before covering your face in shame.

“cute,” he snickers, and your previously warm cheeks are now scorching to the touch. 

he moves your panties to the side and rubs against your sensitive clit, which sends pulsations through your entire body, but that’s nothing in comparison to how you feel when he presses a finger into your dripping hole. 

“you’re so tight,” he whispers, lust clearly written all over his face at the prospect of being in your pussy relatively soon; but he wants to enjoy this, he wants to enjoy the way your face screws up as he presses his finger so deep, he’s hitting places previously untouched. he slowly pulls it out, grazing your most sensitive spot with ease before adding another digit in, making you almost groan from the stretch. you bite your lip to avoid making such a sound, but beomgyu pays your attempted discretion no mind as he starts to hammer his fingers into you at a brutal pace. 

it doesn’t take long for you to come undone around his skilled fingers, and once you’re done pulsating around him, he takes them out for a taste. 

“so good,” he remarks, and though your breathing is heavy and your eyes are hazy, you still have it in you to feel embarrassed. he takes your smaller hand in his and leads you to his messy bed, carelessly sweeping every loose item — a t-shirt here, an old cd there — off of it in one go. he lays you down and hungrily licks his lips once he strips you down until you’re fully unclothed. 

you’re feeling extremely small in this moment. you know beomgyu has had his pick of the litter when it comes to women, so you can’t help but wonder how you fare in comparison to the literal bombshells he’s been known to take home. mostly, though, you wonder how you compare to chaewon, as awful as that sounds. if you really think about it, there’s no comparison to be made, really. she’s her, and you’re you. what else is there to say, honestly? still, you’re comforted by the thought that you are the one underneath him right now, not her, and he does not seem disappointed in the slightest if the tent in his jeans means anything at all.

before you can think too much about it, he’s practically tearing his shirt off and you can’t help but stare. his torso is lean and a little paler than the rest of him, probably due to the lack of sun. objectively speaking, he’s no greek god or anything similar, but to you, he’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. if he notices your awed reaction, he doesn’t say anything or really care, because he is simply too busy studying how perfect you seem to look under his dimmed lights. again, he is delighted at the prospect of being inside of you very soon.

he unzips his jeans and slides them, along with his boxers, off of his slim thighs and you can finally see him completely. his cock is a red so deep it’s nearly purple, with evidence of his lust leaking out of its flared tip. you’ve heard a lot about beomgyu’s physique from stories, his and his hookups’ alike, but nothing prepared you for the real thing. you’re not a virgin or anything, but you’re still unsure of how you’re meant to fit him inside of you. and you have no idea how you’re supposed to approach the subject. 

beomgyu does not seem to understand your internal battle, though, because he wastes no time in lining himself up with your entrance. before he pushes in, though, he drags his cock along your soaking wet seam just to coat himself in your slick. when he feels he can’t take any more of his own teasing, he begins to push in.

“j-jesus christ!” he exclaims as he tries to push his tip through your entrance. “are you a virgin or some shit?”

“nngh — n-no! i-i’m not. i’ve — mmh — i’ve had boyfriends before,” you say as best as you can while dealing with the feeling of him literally fucking you open. you’re worried he’s not enjoying himself in light of his outburst and his decidedly strained expression. 

“god, s-so tight,” he drawls. “feels so goddamn good.” he draws his hips back before pushing in again, further this time, and his words of praise seem to comfort you somehow, because he’s able to sheathe himself completely in you. 

he groans when he feels your gummy walls wildly contracting around him — unsure of what to do with the pleasurable intrusion and working tirelessly to simultaneously push him out and pull him in. you, on the other hand, feel nothing but full. you’re so full you ache, so after a few moments of adjusting, your watery eyes are filled with an insatiable sense of pleading. 

“you okay?” he asks, actually somewhat sweetly.

“y-yes — ah — i just feel w-weird,” you say. “feel so — fuck — full.” your seemingly innocent words drive him to the brink of insanity, so with reddened eyes, he grabs your hips so hard, you know he’ll leave marks in his wake, and without warning he begins drilling into you.

his thrusts are not calculated or intentional in any sense — they’re rough and fast and show his desperation. why he’s so desperate, he has no idea. beomgyu is sleazy even on a good day, so women come a dime a dozen, but he feels an unquenchable need he feels will only be satisfied if he continues to fuck you like a man gone mad. so he does.

your breasts bounce with every thrust and while he wants to grab one, his thirst only makes him want to go even deeper in you, so he employs his hands to manhandling you into a mating press. the new position has him going even deeper, and you can feel him hitting your cervix with each nasty snap of his hips. tears at the sheer feeling of being overwhelmed spring in your eyes and you have to clamp your hand over your lips to keep from crying out.

“let me hear you,” he pleads while gently moving your hand from your mouth and not-so-gently fucking you like a breeding whore, and he’s not sure if he’s saying it because he wants to make sure chaewon hears or just because he desperately wants to hear you for himself. 

“fuck!” you exclaim, tears flowing freely down your cheeks. “s-so big!”

“oh, sweetheart,” he rambles, “who were you fucking before? they didn’t deserve this tight little pussy. they didn’t fuck you like you deserve to be fucked — like a good little whore.” 

“‘m n-not a whore,” you tearily insist, somehow convinced that he means his words. you’re not completely inexperienced, but you’re not a whore, right?

but your innocence only makes him wanna ruin you more, claim you completely. 

“you’re taking cock so well, but you wanna tell me you’re not a whore?” he snickers meanly, and you feel so delirious, you find yourself agreeing with what he says. 

the lewd sounds of skin meeting skin and the sharp knocking of the headboard fill the room, and the heat you feel building up inside of you has you seeing stars. beomgyu pulls you in for a sloppy, wet kiss as he finally lets one of your legs down in order to snake his hand against your clit, which he languidly rolls in the midst of his pistoning in and out of you. 

“are you gonna come for me?” he asks as his lips part from yours. “are you gonna come all over my cock?” 

“y-yes, please,” you sob. “wanna come!”

“then do it, baby. let go for me,” and with the way he’s rolling your clit while fucking into you, you can’t help but comply.

he hisses when he feels you contracting around him, tightening up even more than before and pulling him in impossibly deeper. that’s all it takes, really, before he comes undone himself and sprays his thick, hot load into your spasming pussy. 

he collapses on top of you, and both of you take a few moments just to catch your breath before he pulls out of you with a wince. he’s absolutely enthralled by the way the mix of both of you two’s cum leaks out of you as soon as he does so. he’s almost tempted to swirl it back in and plug you up, but his rational side stops him before he can do anything he’ll regret. 

“are you on the pill?” he asks, and you nod.

“good, go ahead and get a plan b, too. just in case,” he says with a quick kiss to your forehead, and you nod with a delirious smile even in spite of his pedantic words. you’re just so happy you got to sleep with him, be closer to him.

“oh, i almost forgot to actually tell you,” he laughs. “i think fucking you will make chaewon jealous. i think we put on a pretty good show tonight, don’t you?” 

and your heart and your hope and your dignity shatter like nothing else. 

“y-yeah,” you try to reply with a laugh, but it sounds more forced than anything else you’ve ever heard in your life. “it was a really good show.”

-

“you slept with him?!” soobin asks, and he seems beyond frustrated. if you had the guts to look him in his eyes, though, you’d notice just how much hurt is in them. 

“y-yeah…” you mumble, face downcast.

“why? why would you do that? you’re just going to be even more hurt!” he exclaims, and you shrink into yourself even more, not out of fear, but out of pure shame. 

“i don’t know! it all just happened so fast, a-and i, i don’t know, i just couldn’t stop myself,” is all you manage to say. soobin groans at your words. 

“you do realize that getting over him is going to be even harder for you now, right?” he asks, and you finally look up at him for a second before looking back down and nodding, and it’s almost like you’re a child who got caught doing something they knew was wrong.

“i know, and i’m sorry,” you mutter, still struggling to make eye contact, but soobin catches your timidity and his gaze is softened as he pulls your face up to look at him. 

“you don’t have to apologize to me,” he sighs. “i’m just worried about you, you know?” 

“i know, i know. but i’m still really sorry.” and you don’t have to elaborate on why that is because you both know that he’ll be the one helping you pick up the pieces when this situation inevitably breaks your heart even more than it’s already broken, if that’s even possible.

“it’s alright,” he says, pulling you in for a hug that’s so warm and kind you almost burst into tears. “you’ll be alright. i’m here.” 

-

this is a bad idea. soobin would yell at you if you told him what you’re up to, but you don’t want to think about that right now. all you want to think about is how much better you’ll feel after you get your secret feelings off of your chest. up until now, the fear of rejection has made you too afraid to tell beomgyu how you really feel, but things can’t get much worse than they are at present, can they? it’s only been a few days since your hookup with beomgyu, but your love is eating you alive and you doubt that you’ll be able to hold it in for much longer.

things will probably go badly, and he’ll probably be completely blindsided, but the thought of continuing to lie to beomgyu’s face hurts more than anything else ever could. even more than the pain you feel every day that he unconsciously hurts your feelings. maybe this will ruin your friendship, but you love beomgyu, and he loves you, even if it’s not in the way that you want. all you can do is hope that your friendship is strong enough to overcome this.

with that mindset, you find yourself at his doorstep on this particularly cool summer night. you know he’s home because you can hear the faint sounds of whatever movie he’s watching emanating from his door. before you can lose your nerve, you begin to rapidly knock. before long, you hear the shuffling of feet nearing you, and you almost bolt then and there, but he’s quick to open the door when he realizes it’s just you.

“what are you doing here?” he asks, agitation apparent. oh god, were you interrupting something? what if he was working? what if he was sleeping? you should've texted before just showing up unannounced. 

“i-i’m sorry, are you busy?” you ask sheepishly.

“... no,” he says after a slight pause, and he opens the door to let you in. you sit yourself on his couch, posture ramrod straight due to how fucking uncomfortable you are, and you try to steady your breathing as you fiddle with your fingers. 

“is this about chaewon?” he asks, breaking the silence, and your heart aches at the trace of hope in his words.

“n-no, nothing like that. i just —”

“is there any update on that?” he cuts in before you can even get your words out.

“oh, um, not really,” you reply before remembering that something has happened, but you’ve been so out of it, it genuinely didn't occur to you to tell him. “wait, actually, she mentioned that you seem different lately, but she, uh, she’s still… well, to be honest, she’s —” 

“what? she’s still what?” and there’s no patience for your rambling to be seen.

“she’s still not interested in dating you,” you mumble, unable to look him in the eyes when you say it. he’s completely silent after your words, and when you do finally gather enough guts to actually look at him, you really, really wish you had just kept your face down. because he’s pissed. 

“are you fucking with me? she really said that?” he asks, and you nod. 

“why didn’t you tell me earlier?!” and you feel so disoriented at the way things are unfolding that you can barely croak out a reply.

“i-i forgot.” 

“you forgot? jesus christ, if it’s not about her, then why are you here?” he seems angrier than you’ve ever seen him, but his words get you to finally remember what you’re here for.

“i just… i needed to talk to you,” you say pleadingly, looking into his eyes as you try your hardest to give yourself the strength to be honest with him.

“about?” 

it takes all of the courage in your poor little heart to choke out your next words. 

“beomgyu, you know, for the longest time, i’ve —”

“i know,” he impatiently snaps. you’re unsure of what he’s referencing, but you do know he has no idea about the feelings you’ve kept hidden for so long. 

“no. no, you don’t know, actually,” you argue, brave face on, but voice shakier than a leaf. “i just need to tell you that i —”

“that you love me? i know, that’s what i just fucking said,” he sighs irritatedly. “why else would you help me? ‘cause you love me so much, right?” he knows it’s wrong to take his frustration out on you, but you’re so pathetic, you make it too damn easy. you’re the perfect outlet for him to unleash all of his anger.

“you… you knew? this entire time?” you ask incredulously. you feel like you’re suffocating in the face of his callousness and disgust, and the room feels smaller than it did before.

“i mean, yeah. it was kind of obvious,” he muses. your cheeks feel so hot you’re sure you’re on the brink of immolation. it was obvious? if it was obvious, then why did he keep you around in the first place? because you’re useful when it comes to helping him get his dick wet?

“so… so why did you…” you trail off, still finding it inconceivable that the beomgyu you know and love could possibly know about your feelings; and not only are they unreciprocated by him, which you could understand and respect, but they’re nothing more than a fucking joke and means to an end. the end in question being burying himself into other women.

“why did i act like i didn’t know? because i don't feel the same way,” he answers, and you already knew it and knew it well, but that doesn't make it any more digestible to hear.

“y-yeah, but you — how could you still sleep with me? how could you do that to me?” you ask, lips wobbling and voice cracking. you can't believe this. you won't believe this. you have to be misunderstanding something somewhere. there's just no way this is it.

“because it was easy,” he says with a shrug, and your heart shatters into a million pieces. 

because it was easy. 

easy. what a funny word. you don’t think you even fully comprehend what it means in this context, actually. easy, easy, easy, but what part of this has been easy for you? every day, it’s like you’re killing yourself by trying to twist into what he wants you to be. a friend, a confidant, and now, even a lover. but lover is being too generous, isn't it? because he does not love you, not even as a friend, and this discovery becomes clearer and clearer as you think back to every time he’s shown you just how little he cares.

soobin’s litany of warnings come back to haunt you with a vengeance. 

he’s just using you. 

he’s garbage.

he’s just gonna hurt you.

and though you know soobin will take no pleasure in being correct, you can't help but dread the “i told you so” you know he will never be mean enough to say, but will inevitably think.

“i thought we were friends,” you say incredulously, dread and anxiety pooling in the deepest recesses of your heart. “i thought you cared about me” 

and he doesn’t shrug or anything because he doesn’t really need to, but he might as well seeing as how it clearly makes no difference to him. and this is finally how you come to understand that beomgyu is just as bad as everyone says. maybe even a little worse. and he will continue to act like a sociopath for as long as you let him. 

“i-i love you, i really do. but no fucking way. i won’t sit here and let you treat me like shit,” you declare, tears flowing down your cheeks so quickly and steadily you’d probably be unable to wipe them away even if you tried. luckily or unluckily, you don’t even have the strength to find out. 

“you’re going to regret this,” you whisper, and it’s said with such certainty that for a moment, he almost believes you. almost, but not quite.

either way, you’re booking it out of his door before he can even reply.

-

this is everything beomgyu ever could’ve asked for. chaewon is sitting next to him on his bed, eyes dark with lust as she unceremoniously grabs the end of her top and tugs it off. she's beautiful, no doubt about that, but he feels more and more like something is incredibly wrong. 

she leans in to press her lips onto his, but he flinches, scooting almost imperceptibly further away from her on the bed. she falters for a moment before sighing and crawling on all fours to situate herself between his legs. she begins to unzip his pants and tug on his waistband before he frantically stops her.

“w-what are you doing?” he asks, voice shaking.

“blowing you, what does it look like i’m doing?” she replies with a roll of her eyes. “i just wish i had known you wouldn’t be into kissing or, like, actual foreplay, but whatever.” she continues her movement to pull his pants down before he stops her again. 

“what’s wrong?” she asks curiously, before finally realizing that he is, to what would normally be his eternal shame, completely soft. her mouth drops in shock, and in another universe, beomgyu has enough energy to care. but not in this one. in this one, his eyes are teary as he feels an implacable sense of dread he can’t seem to shake off. 

“oh god,” she says with conviction, pulling herself back up and running one hand through her hair. “i knew this would happen.” 

beomgyu, on his part, looks somewhat out of it, but her words bring him back to earth. 

“knew what would happen?” he asks tentatively, sniffling for reasons unknown to him while he tries not to let his tears run over his waterlines.

“i knew you’d act like this because of her,” she says begrudgingly. 

his eyebrows furrow for a second, not because he doesn’t already know who she’s talking about, but because he doesn’t understand the correlation between you and the situation he presently finds himself in.

“think about it,” she says slowly, condescendingly. “who do you trust, like, actually? and i’m not just talking about with getting girls, but with everything.” beomgyu is silent as he tries to comprehend what she's saying, but he’s nothing if not slow on the uptake in regards to human emotion. 

“oh, beomgyu, come the fuck on,” she sighs in frustration. “i mean, when you were stressed about that presentation for your job, who did you call? yunjin told me all about it. she said you spent hours reciting a 15 minute presentation to the girl you supposedly don’t give a fuck about.” ah. he remembers that night, actually, and he remembers it well. he called you in a panic, so you brought over some dinner because you knew he was stressed, but he was so wound up that you didn’t leave and even insisted that he practice with you in order to give him feedback. he spent the whole night repeating the same speech over and over again, but you sat patiently and encouragingly as he repeated the boring, inconsequential drivel to you. you never complained, not even once, and you didn’t ask him for any compensation in the form of him doing something — anything — similar for you, either. even if you had, he realizes, he wouldn't have given any to you, anyway.

“that’s…” 

“and that’s not even all of it. who’s the first one you look for when you walk into a room? and when something good happens, who do you tell first? not anybody else, and i know for a fact that it’s not me, never will be,” she says bitterly. every new point slashes at his heart and ego.

and suddenly, things start making sense, albeit in the worst possible way. beomgyu loves you. his trust and dependence on you all make an awful sort of sense, but in a way, it’s relieving to finally be able to put a name to this feeling. his eyes still feel hot, but not so much because something feels wrong, but because things finally feel right for the first time in forever. he loves you, has loved you, and will continue to love you.

her words resonate with him so deeply, she can read it all over his face. it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that he finally understands, but he’s still missing an important fact. the most important fact, even. 

“yeah, i guess you finally get it now. you have feelings for her. and the worst thing is: you treat her like shit.” his eyes widen and the tears that were just threatening to escape are completely let loose. how could he only come to this realization after he already effectively stomped on your heart and your pure intentions? after you’ve made it clear that you don’t want anything to do with him anymore? and he has nobody but himself to blame, really; he practically shoved you away over and over and over again. 

“i-i didn’t mean to —” 

“sure, of course you didn’t,” she says with a sarcastic smile. “whatever makes you feel better for fucking over the girl who’s been in love with you for years.”

-

beomgyu may not know much about the inner workings of interpersonal relationships, but he does know he needs to see you, and he’s smart enough to understand that he needs to apologize. 

but beomgyu has never apologized for anything in his life — not unless you count the times his mother made him grit them out as a child when he would objectively do something wrong, but this is another matter entirely. nobody will be holding his hand as he does it, and he’s not even really sure where to start. but he knows he has to try.

surely there’s a better place to try than at the bar where he currently finds himself, but then, there’s no time like the present. not to mention that he has a sneaking suspicion that you're avoiding all of your mutual friends’ get-togethers for the sole purpose of avoiding him. if the blocking of all of his socials wasn’t enough, the blocking of his phone number certainly was.

it’s not necessarily fate’s fault that he finds himself here, either. he heard from a friend (chaewon) that you’d be here tonight. he sees you from across the bar looking lively and chatty, and he prays that the good mood you seem to be in will help soften the upcoming conversation with him. to his luck, you step out of the bar to take a call, so he slides from his seat with an open beer bottle in tow, and follows you outside. 

your back is turned, and he doesn’t quite hear what you’re talking about over the phone, but he does catch a giggle and a name, soobin’s, and it makes his heart ache. when you hang up, you turn to head back into the bar, but you’re met with his figure. 

“h-hey,” he says, and he wants to smack himself for the casual greeting he still managed to fuck up.

your eyes widen for a moment before they go blank, and you’re pushing past him without a response. 

“i need to talk to you,” he says, voice trembling as he grabs the back of your elbow, which you snatch out of his grip like his touch is poison. 

“about?” you ask curtly, barely even deigning to turn your head to look at him. you have never been so hostile towards anyone, let alone him, and it's making him spiral. 

“i’m sorry. i’m just really, really sorry,” he desperately apologizes. you’re silent for a few moments as you turn to completely face him with your arms crossed, and he’s trying his damndest to read your expression, but he can’t quite make it out.

“okay… and?” is all you say in response, and he fumbles over his words at your nonchalance. 

“a-and, um, i —”

“you know what?” you cut in with an impatient sigh and a wave of your hand. “i don’t care anymore. you’ve said enough.”

“but i —” 

“i don’t care, beomgyu.” and his name is said in such disgust that it sounds to him like it’s a chore for you to spit out. you’re about to turn and reenter the bar when his next words come tumbling out. 

“i think — i know —  i love you,” he says urgently, and your previously unreadable gaze turns into one of pure, sheer amusement. you’re so amused, you laugh, even. 

“what the fuck are you talking about?” you say between giggles.

“i-i didn’t realize it before, but i talked to chaewon, and she even said that i’ve probably always felt that way about you. i know i didn’t show it, but i really do love —”

“okay, just stop. stop it right there, beomgyu. i’m only going to say it just this once, so listen carefully, okay?” you ask, and he fervently nods. 

“okay. you don't know the first thing about love.” and he goes to interrupt you, but you don’t let him. “loving somebody means you put their feelings above your own. what the hell would you know about that?” 

“i’m… i know i was wrong, b-but i —” 

“beomgyu,” you say exasperatedly. “i’m so glad you’re finally reaching enlightenment, and i’m so happy i was cannon fodder for you to use to get there. but i just really, really don’t care anymore, okay? do what you want with whoever you want, but don’t bother me about it anymore, alright?” and he’s so stunned he can’t even form words, but you just shake your head and prepare to leave again. unconsciously, he goes to grab you again, which you consequently dodge, and he thinks this is the most rejected he’s ever felt before realizing it’s not over yet. it’s only truly over when you grab his bottle from him and splash its contents across his face before throwing the bottle back into his arms and leaving for good.

part ii: cardigan

beomgyu can’t tell if his eyes are stinging from the alcohol you splashed in his face or from the sheer humiliation he feels. maybe from both. probably from both. either way, tears fall as a result. he probably looks like a madman as he stumbles along the concrete on his walk home from the bar. he still has the beer bottle you shoved at him in his hand, and luckily for him, there’s still enough in there to help him get a little tipsier than he already is. he needs it, too, because your words play like a broken record in his head.

you don’t know the first thing about love. 

do what you want with whoever you want, but don’t bother me about it anymore.

each and every word feels like you knew exactly the right thing to say to pierce his heart, but he knows better than to think you cared enough to think about it to the point of choosing them so carefully. no, the words you said were what you really felt at the moment. you didn’t even have to try to hurt him, you just had to tell the truth. somehow, that hurts even more. 

he replays the entire debacle in his head and tries to think of what he could have said differently. to be honest, there are a lot things, but he has a feeling that no matter what he said, you would’ve reacted the same exact way. if he really thinks about it, maybe some small, ugly part of him hoped you’d forgive him as easily as you have always been wont to do, but it's clear to him now that he was just being delusional. maybe he was still under the impression that you’d be as easy to please as ever, but with how repulsed you seemed to be by his words, his touch, him, he has no such expectations anymore.

he now finds himself at an impasse. where does he go from here? you made it clear that you’re done with him, but he still loves you. you don't want his love anymore, so where is that love supposed to go? the only person he feels like he can ask no longer wants to speak to him. he’s unsure if he wants to turn to you because you’d understand, or just because you’re the only person he trusts.

needless to say, the walk home from the bar is a long one, indeed. one filled with pensive silence, save for the steady sound of swigs being taken from his bottle and the occasional sob. 

-

most people in your friend group have no idea what transpired between you and beomgyu, but the smart ones, like taehyun, know something must have happened by the way you avoid hangouts in which beomgyu is present like the plague. he doesn’t pry when you bail, though, for which you are thankful. a few weeks pass before you have the epiphany that beomgyu has already ruined enough, and you won’t let him ruin your friendships, too.

when you show up to taehyun’s for his celebratory house party in lieu of a promotion at his job, everyone cheers when you walk through the door, which makes your cheeks heat up, and you feel so relieved that your friends are still the same even when it feels like it’s been an eternity since you’ve seen them. taehyun pulls you in for a hug, and you eagerly reciprocate it.

“glad you made it,” he grins. 

“i wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you say with a smile, which just makes him beam even more.

you’re pleasantly surprised to note that beomgyu is nowhere to be seen, and you relax for a bit before falling into the familiar rhythm that is being with your friends. you missed this. you missed them. and it seems like they’ve missed you just as much if their excited chatter is anything to go by. you were, admittedly, a little tense when you first came in, but all of that melts away as you join in on the banter and pure fun that is being with the people you love the most.

although beomgyu is nowhere to be found, soobin still never leaves your side. he watches the door like a hawk, and you feel at ease with the knowledge that he’s beside you regardless of the outcome. so what if beomgyu shows up? you belong here, and you have soobin and the rest of your friends with you. knowing beomgyu like you do, his passing fancy has almost certainly ended and he will ignore you like the son of a bitch that he is. 

with this notion in mind, you are not at all prepared for the way the aforementioned boy slams taehyun’s front door open and drunkenly stumbles in. the room gets quiet after he does so, and everyone stares as he scans the room with blank, reddened eyes. when his gaze catches yours, you break eye contact almost immediately, opting to turn to soobin with what you hope is an unbothered look, not to keep up any pretenses with him, but because you don’t want anyone other than him to know how uncomfortable you are. in turn, he grabs your hand and laces his fingers with yours, giving your hand a small, reassuring squeeze, and he does not move to unlace his hand with yours even after he does it.

while you’re trying to be discreet, beomgyu is anything but as he continues to stare at you with a dumbed out look on his face. the intense atmosphere is only broken when taehyun stands up to greet him with a side hug and a pat on the other boy’s back. 

“hey, gyu. i’m happy you’re here,” he says.

“mm,” beomgyu replies, eyes still never leaving you and lingering at the way you and soobin have your hands joined, and taehyun’s casual side hug turns into him having to support beomgyu’s weight as beomgyu almost falls over while standing. 

“you’re really fucking drunk,” taehyun murmurs with a wrinkled nose as he smells the alcohol on beomgyu’s entire person. “c’mon, you can relax in my room for a bit.”

beomgyu can only nod as he leans on taehyun for stability and walks towards taehyun’s room. his gaze on you only breaks when taehyun shuts the door behind him, and if your friends didn’t know that something odd was afoot with the two of you, they certainly seem to know now as they look between taehyun’s room and your awkward figure.

“you okay?” a soft, sweet voice whispers. you turn to soobin and muster up a forced smile and a nod. his hand is still holding yours and he soothingly brushes his thumb over your hand in order to try to calm you down. somehow, it actually kind of works. 

-

you’re here. beomgyu thought he may be hallucinating or something just because you seem to haunt him everywhere he goes now, but he knew it was the real thing when he saw how uncomfortable you were. he knows this because in his delusions, you’re either flatout rejecting him or, in the good ones, you’re forgiving him. those are the ones he likes the most, but he hates the sobering aftermath when he realizes they are, in fact, only figments of his imagination.

so now he sits on taehyun’s bed in a daze as he focuses on the door. you’re so close that his heart physically aches in yearning as it insists on closing the distance between you two, but taehyun’s sharp look stops him from doing anything too terribly stupid. 

“this has got to stop,” taehyun halfway pleads, halfway scolds.

“what does?” beomgyu asks dumbly.

“showing up everywhere drunk as hell,” he replies. “look, i don’t know what’s going on, but i know it has to do with her, and i know you’re probably — definitely — in the wrong.” 

beomgyu has enough shame to hang his head and purse his lips in response.

“i don’t know what you did, i don’t know what you said, but whatever it was, i know you’re not making any of it better by getting fucked up every night. stay in here, sober up, and only come out when you’re ready to act like an adult.” and with that, taehyun stalks over to the door before shutting it behind him.

beomgyu is not stupid, but he’s not exactly emotionally intelligent, either; so while taehyun’s words sting, they’re not enough to pull him out of his pity party. all he seems to care about in this moment is being next to you, but he remembers the scene of your hands locking with soobin’s. are you seeing each other now? that can’t be it. the heart does not move on that quickly, but maybe yours did. maybe you buried your feelings for him as deep as they could go in the face of the seemingly repulsive confession of love he gave to you. maybe you belong with somebody like soobin, who’s so gentle and caring. soobin definitely listens to you, cherishes you, treats you gently. maybe beomgyu didn’t exactly understand it before now, but he really understands it at this moment: soobin loves you.

maybe, in a way, he always sort of knew. maybe he felt some sort of sick satisfaction at the way you kept your eyes trained on him while soobin was training his eyes on you. maybe he felt some 12-year-old boy kind of pride at the way you seemed to put him before anyone else in spite of such a viable prospective suitor, but any contentment he may have felt is flushed away at the anxiety of you having somebody so good right besides you — somebody who is obviously much better than him.

do you feel the same way? no, even before that, are you okay? he knows he hurt you really badly. are you still hurting? he wants to know. he has to know. so before he can talk himself out of it, he’s stumbling towards the door.

-

things are still pretty tense when taehyun walks out, but they begin to calm down after everyone asks if beomgyu is alright and taehyun answers in the positive, and you think you might just be in the clear before realizing things are never that easy. beomgyu stumbles out of the door and his gaze immediately locks on you.

“hey,” he says a little too loudly. the room is quiet, and though he didn’t say who he was addressing, it’s obvious it’s you with the way he’s staring so intensely. 

“hey,” he repeats even louder this time. to his chagrin, soobin is still next to you, but that doesn’t mean he can’t slide into the open space on the other side of you. of course, propriety would say that he shouldn’t, but propriety means nothing to beomgyu at this moment. not when he’s so drunk he smells like rubbing alcohol, and not when he’s so openly desperate he looks like a man gone mad.

with no grace to be seen, he plops down next to you, and even through your clothes and his jeans, his legs against yours still feel like they burn you. you try to move to avoid his touch so aggressively that poor, large soobin is squeezed into the armrest even more; and it’s all for naught, anyway, because beomgyu just scoots himself even closer. 

“how’re you?” he slurs, and though everyone tries their best not to seem like they’re eavesdropping, they most certainly are. no matter how hard they try not to stare, their gazes keep flicking towards the two of you and their voices are a little more hushed. you’re beyond embarrassed, but beomgyu doesn’t seem to mind their looks one bit.

“beomgyu…” you whisper exasperatedly, accepting your fate as the spectacle that you currently are and trying to nip it in the bud with your obvious distaste for the situation.

“i jus’ wanna know how you are,” he says desperately as he senses your clear rejection, but to his eventual regret, he doesn't stop. you try to keep your voice low as you say your next words.

“good. look, i really don’t wanna do this with you right now. i have nothing to say to you and you don’t have anything to say to me that i actually want to hear, so i think it’s best if —” 

“but i told you i love you!” he exclaims, and everyone around you ceases to pretend that they aren’t listening. how can they even pretend when he’s quite literally yelling? you don’t notice a thing, though. you’re too absorbed in the melodrama unfolding before you, in which you are in the starring role. “i… i jus’ love you so much, i —” and before he can get out his next words, you’re swiftly standing up with soobin in tow and thanking taehyun for the invite while shuffling out of the front door.

-

beomgyu is devastated when you leave. he takes to walking outside to taehyun’s balcony as he lets tears roam freely down his reddened face. he thinks he’s alone before he hears somebody opening the door and shutting it behind them.

“do you seriously still not get it?” chaewon sneers.

“get what?” he sniffles, and she lets out a long-suffering sigh before she gets out her next words.

“you love her, right? and you miss her?” she asks slowly, as if he’s so stupid, he wouldn’t understand her if she said it any other way.

“of course i do,” he snaps, not appreciating the condescension in her tone, but all the bite is lost in translation because he looks nothing short of pathetic as his tears steadily fall. 

“right. you love her, you miss her, you want to talk to her. you, you, you. it’s still all about you and what you feel, but what about what she feels?” she asks, and he falters at her words. “all you’re doing is making things hard on her, and i can promise you that this ‘woe-is-me’ shit you’re doing right now isn’t gonna change her mind.” 

he thinks back to how you acted when you loved him — how you bent over backwards to try to conceal your feelings so as not to inconvenience him. how everything you did was to make life easier on him, no matter how difficult it was for you. yes, you loved him, but you did it in a way he could accept. you did things his way, and for so long; and all he’s done in return is demand your love in his way, yet again.

“so what do i do?” he earnestly asks. “how do i get her back?” 

“... after what you've done to her? you don't,” she answers after a pause, and he deflates at her words. she’s right, of course.

he thinks about how he’d feel if you treated him the way he treated you. he feels like his heart is dying in his chest just at the memory of you rejecting him, but to be rejected so cruelly? what do you even do with yourself then? he wonders how people live with that kind of hurt, but then, you did it for so long and were even able to paste a smile on your face as you did it. he remembers when he thought that you were a horrible actress because of how he could still see through you despite how bothered you obviously were by his actions, but only now does he understand how much resilience it must've taken. somehow, it just makes him miss you even more. makes him love you even more.

-

beomgyu is a pervert. a sick-in-the-head, nasty, freakish, bottom-of-the-barrel, lowdown, dirty pervert. that's the only way he can accurately describe himself in this moment, and the guilt is strong, but not stronger than his need to let this dream play out the way he wants it to. and the way he wants it to goes like this:

your naked body is splayed across beomgyu’s bed as you watch him undress with watery eyes. 

“i need you, gyu,” you whimper as tears threaten to fall.

“shh, baby. lemme take care of you,” he whispers as he lines himself up with your entrance.

you brace yourself by locking your hands around his neck as he pushes in, and you both groan as your pussy struggles to take him in. it’s so real, he feels you spasm around him like it did on the night you spent together, and he knows he’s a goner.

he lets you adjust for a few moments before slowly pulling out, then thrusting himself back in again. each stroke feels like heaven as you cry out with every movement. he grips your hips, but he tries his best not to hurt you when he does it. you’re far too precious to leave marks on, after all. 

beomgyu gets lost in the feeling all too quickly. he wants to be uncharacteristically gentle, but the feeling of you squeezing around him makes his eyes redden, and before long, he’s drilling into you. 

“‘m close!” you cry out.

“me too, baby,” he whispers, and the feeling of you clenching around him as you come is enough to send him over the edge. he spills himself into you with a broken moan. 

“i love you,” he says desperately as he tries to catch his breath. but even in his dreams, you don’t reply. 

-

soobin has always been sweet, but ever since the beomgyu incident he’s been even sweeter. he shows up to your place with your favorite snacks and never asks any unsavory questions. he takes your calls in the dead of night when he’s clearly been trying to sleep. he holds your hand when you start to space out. 

at first, it was easy to chalk it all up to what best friends do, but as the physical intimacy begins to increase, you start suspecting that something deeper is going on. you are not a cruel person — you’re not the type to pretend not to see something so clear when it inconveniences you (unlike a certain someone). so when soobin places your head on his shoulder during a movie night, against your meek disposition, you ask him a very simple question.

“binnie, do you like me?” and you don’t quite have the courage to look up at him while you ask him, opting to stare at the screen before you.

“yeah. yes, i do,” he replies, and while you would rather continue to avoid eye contact, you have enough respect for him to sit up and look him in his eyes.

“i’m so sorry,” you say, because what else can you say? 

“i know. i know you don’t feel the same way, you don’t have to tell me,” he answers with a soft, forced smile.

“i don’t wanna hurt you.”

“i know you don’t.”

“what can i do?” you ask sincerely.

“i… i don’t need you to do anything. if you need me, you have me. if you don’t need me, you still have me,” he tells you.

“that’s not fair to you.”

“then just give me some time,” he replies. “i’ll get over it if you just give me some time.”

“okay,” you nod.

“are you sure you’ll be okay?” he asks, still as concerned about you as ever. as if you’re not breaking his heart.

“i will be,” you lie. regardless of whether he believes you or not, he nods and gathers his things before leaving.

-

you are, in the most crass of terms, pissy drunk. your sticky situation with soobin is one for the history books, if you do say so yourself, and you lack the proper vernacular at the moment to express just how awful it is. who knew your best friend on this planet had secret feelings for you? well, it seems like everyone, actually, because as you confide in your friends, none seem to be particularly surprised. it appears that you’re the last one to find out. 

of course, you’re only able to deal with the revelation by visiting your favorite bar. against your better judgment, you go alone. usually, you’d ask soobin to come with you, but you can’t do that with the way things are right now, which just makes you feel even worse. you’re on drink number three (or four…  or five…) when an unknown man slides into the barstool next to you. you don’t quite catch his name, but you know you’re not interested in him, or, well, anyone at the moment. you’re far too distracted by your current circumstances to even entertain the thought of another man right now, but even as you deny, deny, deny him, he doesn’t quite seem to get the message.

your vision is blurred as you try to hint to him for what must be the umpteenth time that you’re not looking for anything at the moment, but he still doesn’t understand, and you’re starting to feel every ounce of alcohol you’ve consumed until now. you place your head in your hands as you try to keep the room from spinning, but it doesn’t seem to help, and you can feel his hand squeezing your upper thigh. you’re not the most assertive person at the best of times, and you are certainly even less so in your drunken state, so you’re trying to gather your bearings to reject him once and for all when you feel an arm sliding around your neck. 

“there you are, baby. who’s this?” a baritone voice asks rather loudly, a voice you’d recognize anywhere. beomgyu’s. your gut reaction is to push him off and cuss him out, but even with your delayed reactions, you’re able to register that he’s trying to help you out as you lock eyes with his hesitant brown ones.

“gyu,” you say with what you hope is a believable smile. 

“you’re taken?” the man asks disappointedly.

“yep,” you reply, and he scoffs before pushing out his barstool so abruptly, the chair squeaks before storming away. 

“are you alright?” beomgyu asks quietly.

“‘m fine,” you tell him as you rip his arm off from your shoulder. “i don’t need your help.” 

“i know!” he exclaims a little too desperately. “i-i know that, i just —” but the universe smacks you across the face as you begin to gag, alcohol choosing now of all times to rock your stomach with a vengeance. you begin to try to scramble off of the stool, but you’re so drunk, you’re having trouble even standing up. 

without any prompting, beomgyu hurriedly pulls you up and places your arm around his shoulder before hustling you to the bathroom. you don’t even have time to close the door behind you before you’re hunched over the toilet and choking vomit out of your throat. beomgyu slams the door behind him and rushes over to your pitiful frame before shushing you and rubbing circles into your back in an attempt to calm you down. in turn, you bat his hands away without even condescending to look at him when you do it. his heart stings, but he realizes it’s not about him as you lurch forward and continue to empty your stomach. 

when you’re finally finished, you feel a wet paper towel gently rubbing the sweat off of your forehead, then it travels down to your lips where vomit still pools around them. beomgyu intently cleans you up without saying a word.

“a-are you alright?” he asks meekly, and as if only now registering that it’s him, you push his hands away and say your next words. 

“i thought i told you i didn’t need your fucking help. i hate when people make me repeat myself, didn’t you know?” he winces at your harsh words and sharpness of tone.

“i… i know. i’m sorry. i just thought that you might want somebody with you. i’m really sorry.” and even through your drunken stupor, you know he’s not just apologizing for his interference. but you don’t care.

“and why would i want you?” he’s silent at this before finally replying. 

“you know, when you told me i’d regret it, i didn’t really understand what you meant; but i understand it now. i’m really, really regretting it. i should’ve listened to you,” he says softly with tears brimming in his reddened eyes. 

you’re at a loss for words at this. what do you say? what can you say besides “i told you so”? somehow, that doesn’t quite do the sentiment justice.

part iii: betty

after vomiting, you actually feel like you’ve sobered up quite a bit, but you’re still not speaking, which beomgyu takes to heart.

“i can’t — i’m just really, really sorry,” he brokenly sobs in the face of your silence. “so sorry.” 

“i know,” you reply after a pause, and you do know. you didn’t before, but his pathetic actions and demeanor have shown you that he means what he says. your acknowledgment of his repentance just makes him cry even harder, though. because it doesn’t seem to have changed a thing.

“i was a bastard. i was so fucking awful to you when you were just trying to help me, and i didn’t know what i had until you were gone,” he continues, quite openly sobbing at this point. he looks like a man gone mad as he cries in the public restroom of a bar, but what's the point of trying to keep his cool now? maybe this way, you’ll understand just how much he means what he says.

but you’re the victim. you’re the one who should be crying her heart out at the moment. you didn’t even do anything besides reject him after he’s been continuously rejecting you and treating you like gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe for years. why does he get to cry and get what he wants? what about you?  you want to hold onto this injustice, but the way he crumbles in front of you makes your heart soften. no matter how angry you may be, you can't help but try to reason with him.

“beomgyu, i know you’re sorry. i really do,” you sigh, and your tone tells him everything he needs to know, but he still hangs onto every word as if they’re the most important things he’ll ever hear. still, he feels dread at what you have to say next tugging on his heartstrings.

“but it’s just not enough. you treated me like i was garbage for years. you used me and my feelings, and tossed me away whenever you wanted.” and he withers even more with every word. “and i let you do it because i loved you and i thought you didn’t know how i felt, but you fucking knew what you were doing; and you still slept with me while knowing how i felt about you. how can you expect me to forgive you for that?” you ask, and it is not completely rhetorical. you seem to be searching for an answer, but he doesn’t have one. he never did. if he could figure out how to justify any of his actions, he would, but he can’t seem to come up with anything even as he scrambles for a response. 

he knows he's losing you, so why not just be honest? as a last ditch effort, he lays everything out on the table. 

“you said you loved me,” he says. “m-maybe, if i can be better, you’ll love me again. i can be good for you, i-i know i can. so if you just —” 

“beomgyu,” you interrupt, though not maliciously. you seem to have some level of patience for him even in spite of everything. “i still love you. love was never the problem.” and he can’t help but feel a shred of hope bud in the wake of your words, but it’s killed in its crib at what you say next. “but that’s just not enough anymore. the way you’ve been feeling for the past few weeks is how i’ve felt for years. i bet you can’t even imagine that — i don’t even want you to imagine that, actually. it just hurts too much.” 

and while you just said that you didn’t want him to, he can’t help but envision exactly that: the feeling that he had when you were with soobin multiplied exponentially. and for so long. and with different people. that same pain over and over and over again with no reprieve besides for the hope that someday, if you’re lucky, you might have a chance. someday, maybe any day, but probably not any time soon. to live like that and for so long, just thinking about it makes his heart ache and his stomach churn. 

“do you understand me now?” you ask, and gone are the traces of resentment and disgust. your gaze is only filled with pity. somehow, that makes him feel even worse. 

“y-yeah,” he says breathlessly with an inhale so sharp, it’s as if he’s in physical pain, all the while trying desperately to gather his bearings and to look and sound like a functioning member of society. he fails in light of his constant stream of tears. “i, um, i get it now.” 

“okay,” you say softly. “i’m going to call yunjin so she can pick me up. can you get home safely?” this is it. you don’t have to say it, but he knows that you two will never speak again after this. what else is there to say, after all? 

“i can.”

“good,” you smile, and he tries his best to smile, too, but he doesn’t quite make it there. “goodbye, beomgyu.”

“goodbye,” he whispers shakily, and he looks so profoundly devastated that you wish you could comfort him, but you know it’d just make things worse; so without another word, you leave him alone as you prepare to call yunjin.

beomgyu doesn’t know how long he spends in the wake of your absence, but he cries until no more tears will leave his eyes. when he's all cried out, eyes swollen and face red, he leaves the bar in a state of borderline delirium. your words echo in his unstable state of mind, and he realizes that even when you had every right to treat him like the scum of the earth, you were kinder than he could ever reasonably expect for you to be. it seems that you still gave him more than he ever deserved. as always.

-

things with soobin have stayed in an odd sort of purgatory for weeks now, but unfortunately or not, life goes on, so you don't have the luxury of ruminating on it as much as you probably need to. you don't reach out very much for fear of unwittingly making your circumstances with him even more difficult for him to move past, but that certainly doesn't mean that you don't miss him. still, you prioritize his feelings in the matter over your own and patiently await the day where he finally feels comfortable enough to be friends with you once more. he forgoes most of the gatherings that your friends arrange, and it's like a knife to the heart every time. 

as for your situation with beomgyu, you deliberately try to push that out of your mind as frequently as humanly possible. you feel like things have ended on the best note you could ever ask for, and your friends know better than to bring him up around you, so you figure that ignorance is bliss. old habits die hard, though, and you find yourself wanting to check on him, but you remind yourself that that’s not your job anymore — and it never should have been in the first place, really, which is enough to stop you in your tracks on the bad nights where you want nothing more than to reach out. you reason with yourself that he has friends, so there’s no need to concern yourself with him. 

but you miss him. you miss when you were stupid enough to believe that he didn’t know about your feelings. you wish you could go back and erase your love for him so you two could go back to just being friends. what he did was unforgivable, you know that, but you still miss all the times he made you laugh. still, that pales in comparison to all the times he made you cry, right? that's how you should look at things. that's how you will look at things. 

as it is, you’re perfectly fine with never speaking to him again. at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

-

“are you okay?” taehyun asks in a hushed tone. he hasn’t seen beomgyu in over a month now, but beomgyu finally agreed to come out with him after taehyun said he missed him. now, they are seated in a booth at the dimly lit bar just down the street from taehyun’s place.

“y-yeah,” beomgyu replies with a forced upturn of his lips as he sloshes around the non-alcoholic drink in his cup. after the last time you saw him, he decided to ditch alcohol for the time being. taehyun was right about him needing to act like an adult, and he just knows that if he were to get even a drop of alcohol in him, he’d come crawling back to you, probably to your disgust. 

“good,” taehyun sighs in relief. “i was really worried about you for a while there, you know? everyone was.”

“i know,” beomgyu answers perfunctorily. everyone has been worried about him and has said as much. well, pretty much everyone except for you. 

“are you ever gonna talk about what happened?” taehyun carefully probes, which causes beomgyu to cease all actions and stare blankly at his cup — liquid still gently swishing back and forth. 

“nothing happened that you probably didn’t already guess,” beomgyu says with a derisive smile. its sentiment is not directed at taehyun, however, but at himself. 

“that doesn't mean i don't want to hear it from you,” taehyun replies.

with a sigh of defeat, beomgyu begrudgingly recounts his circumstances with you, sparing no details. at first, taehyun's eyes widen every so often, but after a while, his face relaxes into something somber and resigned. when beomgyu is finished, his gaze remains locked on taehyun’s face, searching for any semblance of a reaction, but he remains stoic.

“well?” beomgyu asks impatiently.

“well, what?” taehyun says after a moment, and he's tempted to just leave it at that, but after looking into beomgyu’s pleading eyes, he realizes that he needs to say more. “you fucked up, but you know that already. i would say that i can't believe you did that, but if it's you, i can believe it,” he sighs, and beomgyu really wishes he hadn't pressed taehyun for more, because he feels smaller and smaller with every new word. 

“i know. i’m a piece of shit who doesn't deserve her. i never did,” beomgyu relents, feeling completely helpless. he wasn't expecting comfort or anything like that — he doesn't deserve it, but he's still hurt by taehyun's words, regardless of their validity. they just further confirm what he already knows.

“yeah, you're right,” taehyun agrees with a nod, and beomgyu deflates even more, if that's even possible. 

“is… is she okay?” beomgyu asks timidly. he's been too afraid to ask about you, but now that taehyun knows the truth, it seems pointless to beat around the bush.

“not really,” taehyun says with a twitch of his lips. 

“why not?!” beomgyu exclaims a little too loudly. taehyun hurriedly shushes him before glancing around the bar to make sure nobody’s attention has been drawn to the two of them. 

“why not?” beomgyu repeats, voice lower this time, but urgency just as palpable.

“i don't know. i think something happened between her and soobin, but neither of them will talk about it. i'm sure you can guess what happened, though,” taehyun sighs. and he's right. beomgyu can guess, but he can't quite believe it. you must've rejected soobin, but why? why would you reject someone so perfect for you? does it have anything to do with him?

-

beomgyu can’t shake the feeling that your situation with soobin has something to do with him. he knows he’s being vain, he knows he’s being selfish, but he can’t help but hope. he doesn't tell anyone about this, though, for fear that reality will be much crueler than he can cope with. he tells himself he's perfectly content with living with said hope and deluding himself into thinking he still has a place in your heart, but he can't control the way his mind wanders to places he scarcely dares to dream of these days. dreams where you miss him, where you still think about him, where you forgive him play out in a number of ways, but in the end, they're nothing more than, well, dreams.

-

as much as some would like to avoid it, gathering for taehyun’s friendsgiving party is inevitable. no matter the circumstances, nobody can quite justify missing out on your friend group’s collective tradition. you try to steel yourself for the potentially awkward encounters with soobin and beomgyu, but you can’t help but worry about potential “what if’s”. still, you decide to be as mature as possible. if you see soobin, you'll make light conversation before excusing yourself if he seems uncomfortable. if you see beomgyu, well, hopefully he'll just ignore you as you've ignored him.

when you arrive at taehyun's, you greet everyone as usual. honestly, as awful as it sounds, you're pretty relieved to see that neither soobin nor beomgyu have arrived just yet. you drink just enough to take some of the edge off, so when soobin comes in, it's not an earth-shattering event. when he greets you, you're prepared to just leave it at a cordial, somewhat distant conversation, and he seems to be on the exact same page. he says hello and performs all of the necessary niceties before wandering off and getting himself a drink. it hurts your heart that this is what your friendship has been reduced to, but you know it's what's best at the moment. you don't want to unintentionally hurt him by insisting he push his limits by being with you. 

you try to shove this out of your mind, and you're talking to yunjin about nothing in particular when beomgyu walks through the door. you can’t help but look up when he enters, but you will yourself to look away while plastering a smile on your face you already know isn’t believable in the slightest. mercifully, he doesn’t do anything other than wave at you and yunjin before getting lost in the hustle and bustle of the party.

you think the worst of the night is over, and you calmly go through the motions of your friendsgiving traditions as if everything is fine. after dinner, you find yourself sitting alone, wondering if you should just hang it up and go home a bit early. before you can do that, though, you notice soobin approaching your spot on the couch. 

“hey,” he says a little unsteadily as he plops down next to you, no doubt a little tipsy from the drinks he’s had.

“hey,” you shyly reply with a smile. 

“how are you?” he asks. 

“i’m okay,” you answer, trying to maintain your composure. “what about you?”

“better,” he says before hesitantly continuing. “i miss you.” your heart soars, but it also somewhat aches.

“i miss you, too,” you tell him honestly. he smiles, albeit very softly.

“how are things with beomgyu?” he probes.

“as good as they’ll get, i guess.”

“so not very good, huh?”

“no, not very good,” you say truthfully. 

“well, why don't you just cut the bullshit, then?” you're very clearly taken aback by his words. you're even actually offended that he could casually say such a thing.

“what are you talking about?” your tone is more defensive than bewildered, but he just looks at you with knowing eyes that make you feel microscopic.

“you know what i’m talking about,” he argues. “this whole fucked up charade that you two are performing isn’t fooling anybody, so why even try?” 

“he doesn't deserve me,” you scoff. “he can't just treat me like shit and get away with it because he's sorry now. he needs to pay for what he's done.”

“and who are you punishing by doing that? him or yourself?” you're, again, surprised, so you don't quite know what to say in response.

“i know you. i know what you want, and denying that doesn't do anything but hurt the both of you. you might as well get what you want. maybe he doesn't deserve it — i'm not really sure, but don't you want to try, at least? with how desperate he’s been acting, i don’t think he’ll hurt you again.” you seriously ponder his words, but the main conclusion you come to is that soobin is still so, so kind. he had — or has — feelings for you, but he still wants to see you happy. you don’t have to say anything, though, because it seems like he understands how grateful you are just from your smile.

he pulls you in for a hug, one so warm and loving you can't help but melt into it. you could cry at how relieved you are that you two will soon overcome the awkwardness and distance. it seems he wasn't one of your best friends for nothing. when you two break apart, you look up at him with a watery smile. before you can say anything, though, you register the odd look on his face. you look confused for just a second before he says his next words in a hushed, hurried tone.

“i'm doing this for your own good,” he whispers as he leans down and catches your lips in a tender kiss. to say you're stunned is an understatement, indeed, but the kiss ends almost as quickly as it begins, leaving you reeling. 

“w-why did you —” 

“i said it was for your own good, but it was kind of for me, too,” he softly chuckles. “maybe i want to punish him a little bit.” you don't really understand what he means until you follow his gaze and catch beomgyu in his line of sight. oh, you get it now. who knew soobin was such a sadist? 

your conversation with soobin ends and you feel a lot lighter than you have in a long, long time, but his words leave you with more than enough to think about. you shake your head and go out to the balcony to clear your head. after a few minutes, you hear the door behind you creak open. you know it's beomgyu before he even says anything. 

“so, you and soobin, huh?” he questions softly as he settles next to you, leaning against the railing. you glance up at him to respond, but his mirthless smile stops you before you can say a word. 

“i’m happy for you,” he adds as sincerely as he can, and you’re not sure you buy that, but at the very least, he seems to want you to believe it. you're not really sure how to respond. you don't even know if you want to explain everything to him, actually, because you're still debating on whether or not you should forgive him. can things really be that easy? does he deserve your forgiveness? who's to say he won't just break your heart again? as you struggle with how to answer, he continues.

“i'm, um, i'm glad you found somebody. especially soobin. he'll treat you right — you deserve it,” he says before timidly rambling. “s-sorry if i’m overstepping, i just wanted you to know that; and, uh, if you ever need anything, i'm here.”

“need anything? like what?” you can't help but wonder aloud. now, this is unlike the beomgyu you've come to know. if it were, then he'd be throwing a fit trying to get you to change your mind so you'd be with him instead of soobin. 

“l-like, if you need advice or something,” he earnestly answers, somewhat surprised you said anything at all. “or if you just want to talk or complain or anything. whatever it is that you need, i’ll be here. i owe you that much after all you’ve done for me.” you look confused for a moment before you answer him.

“i didn’t do those things so you’d owe me, beomgyu,” you tell him, and his heart flutters against his will at the use of his name.

“i-i know, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean it like that. s-sorry. i just want you to know that there’s someone who wants to be there for you, especially since you were always there for me, but even if you weren’t, i would still want to be there for you,” he nervously replies. 

“why?” you quietly ask, and that actually brings a wistful smile to his face. 

“because i care about you,” he says, voice dripping with sincerity and solemnity. what he really wants to tell you is that it's because he loves you, but it's clear that it's the wrong time. he can't just dump his feelings onto you again — that would be wrong since you're obviously involved with someone now. if it were the old him, he'd do it with absolutely no regrets if it meant that you'd come back to him, but he can't do that to you. he can't just steamroll over your wants and feelings like he's always done. 

“but why?” you question persistently. he never saw anything of value in you before, not outside of how he could use you, so what’s so great about you now? you just can’t understand it. his sincere smile turns wry, teeming with a sense of self-mockery as he whispers his next words.

“because you're amazing. you're everything anyone could ever want.” anything i could ever want. he doesn't have to say that last part, because you can already hear the meaning of his words. just because you can hear it, however, doesn't mean you understand it.

“i never thought you, of all people, would think that,” you say honestly. 

“i know, but that's my fault, not yours,” he replies. you purse your lips in response, mulling over your options. you could just walk away right now and go back to ignoring beomgyu forever. it's what he deserves, you reason. he humiliated you in a way like none other, and nobody would blame you if you never let that go; but you look at how hard he's trying, and your heart softens. maybe you want to give it a try. maybe you'll get hurt again, but with how desperate he is, you really don't think so. still, you can’t let him get away with it so easily. you just have to make sure his feelings are pure.

“i know you still have feelings for me,” you say after a long pause, and his face reddens in shame, feeling like his ugly heart that he was desperately trying to conceal has been exposed. he supposes this is the way it should be, but he doesn't want to guilt you into anything, so he chooses to remain silent in his humiliation. “if it were like before, you would just tell me that. why is it different now?” you continue. well, that's it then. he should be truthful and say what he wants to say, and unbeknownst to him, what you want to hear.

“because your feelings should be more important than my own. that's what you do when you love somebody,” he chokes out. “you taught me that.”

you're quiet for a long, long time. too long, in fact. so long, he thinks it's time to call it quits and suppress his unrequited feelings for you until he feels them no longer. he can't imagine a world where he successfully does so, but for your sake, he should try. before he can say his goodbye, though, you speak again.

“okay,” you sigh.

“what?” he asks confusedly, eyebrows furrowed.

“i said, ‘okay’. don't make me regret this,” you tell him before grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him down to you. your lips softly meet each other and his eyes widen in sheer shock, though he doesn't resist you. his breath is labored when you finally part, eyes hazy with his lips red and swollen. 

“w-what are you — i thought — why are you —”

“i'll give you one chance,” you interrupt. “if you fuck up, it's over. do you understand?” he takes a second to process your words — but it's just a second — and his eyes well up with relieved tears when he understands. he dumbly nods in agreement, too afraid that if he speaks, no intelligible noise will come out. 

“good.” the corners of your mouth curl with a ghost of a smile, and you're prepared to leave it at that as you pull away from him; but like a dog, he earnestly chases after your touch before pulling you towards him, lips meeting yours again. the kiss is hungrier this time — more insistent, but he doesn't push his luck. eventually, he parts from you, leaving you both panting. his tears, which he was previously holding back, now flow from his eyes with no resistance. 

“thank you,” he says gently.

“for what?” you ask, head a little clouded from the kiss, but he just shakes his head with a smile. you will never understand just how grateful he is for the mercy you’ve shown him, but he’ll try to show you how much it means to him. 

-

things go slowly after that — you do your best to ensure that they do; and beomgyu, to his credit, tries to oblige. you’re not official or anything like that, but you let him take you on dates, and he’s always trying to woo you in one way or another. he sends flowers when you work, he shows up to your place with food and drinks, he texts you every morning asking how you’ve slept. it’s everything you could have ever asked for, and you can really see how hard he’s trying, but when kisses become heated, you always pull away before things can go any further. beomgyu tries his best not to show his dejection, but you always end up apologizing before he adamantly insists that he’s more than okay with it. you appreciate his understanding because every time you think about going any further, you can’t help but remember the indelible scar that his previous betrayal left upon you. 

-

christmas parties at beomgyu’s, much like friendsgivings at taehyun’s, are a tradition within your friend group. now that the tension with soobin and (most of) the tension with beomgyu is no longer there, you find that you’re actually really excited to gather again. you have no intention of revealing the nature of your… circumstances with beomgyu to everyone, though, and beomgyu will never say it for fear of making you uncomfortable, but it makes his heart ache. he can't really blame you for not wanting to be tied to him, but that doesn't soothe the pain in his chest.

secret santa takes place without a hitch. that is, until you open up your gift, which is a necklace with a pendant of a silver sun, and it is revealed that soobin got it for you. it’s not the most expensive gift in the world, but it is uncommonly sentimental. many write it off as a pretty, but ultimately meaningless piece of jewelry, but beomgyu instinctively knows it’s because of how so much of you resembles the sun. how could he not understand? you’re warm and nurturing, but it’s unsettling to realize that you’re not his alone. he tries to tell himself that it's not the end of the world, but when soobin turns you around and gently clasps the necklace for you before smoothing out your hair, he can't help but feel like it is. that’s enough for him to excuse himself to his room, but you’re far too preoccupied with gushing over how much you love the gift to soobin to really notice. 

when he enters his room, he sits on the edge of his bed, placing his head in his hands with a groan. he shouldn't be feeling like this. he has no right to feel like this. you had already taken the time to explain that you and soobin are just friends, and you stressed that he’ll have to be okay with that fact if he wants to be with you, to which he eagerly agreed; but he can't help but think that it's only a matter of time before you come to your senses and leave him to be with soobin for good. 

you two aren't even technically official, and your hesitance to be classified as such to your closest friends only shows him just how much you want that to continue to be true. what if he's just a pit stop in yours and soobin's love story? that seems like the most likely outcome. he can just see it now, you and soobin laughingly recalling your tumultuous history to your future kids. is beomgyu being dramatic? probably, but that doesn't stop his mind from running wild. why would you choose to stay with him when soobin, who's been devoted to you since the beginning, is right there? 

the door to his room opens, and he whips his head up in hopes that it's you coming back to him, so he can't hide his disappointment when he's greeted by chaewon’s figure shutting the door behind her before she plops down beside him. his mood turns even more sour than it already was when he sees her.

“if you're here to laugh at me for how pathetic i am, i don’t want to hear it,” he says bitingly. she’s quiet for a moment, as if she’s digesting his words, before she nods.

“you’re right, you are pathetic,” she deadpans. his temper flares, but before he can lash out, she continues. “you look stupid just sulking here because your little girlfriend got attention from another man.”

“h-how did you kn—” 

“she may be subtle, but you definitely aren’t,” she snorts. 

“oh,” he defeatedly replies with a laughably crestfallen look.

“doesn't feel good, does it? seeing the person you love with somebody else,” she asks snarkily. “it’s one of the worst feelings in the world, if you ask me.” 

“and what the hell do you know about that?” he spits. chaewon is one of the most spiteful and bull-headed people he knows. he can't imagine her being too broken up about supposed unrequited love. 

“because that's how i feel when i look at the both of you,” she says matter-of-factly, as if she didn't just drop the bomb of the century. he knew that she was attracted to him, obviously, but he never knew her feelings ran any deeper than that. he sputters as he looks at her, but she cuts him off.

“i know you didn't know about my feelings, for real this time. i guess i'm a better actress than her, or maybe you just never cared enough to find out. whatever it is, i know it's hopeless, so you don't have to tell me.”

“i'm sorry,” he murmurs, but she just shakes her head.

“thanks, but your apology just makes me feel worse,” she scoffs. “i don’t need or want the pity of the most pitiful person in the world.” her words are undeniably harsh, but he can register the amount of hurt in them.

“i'm still sorry,” he says. “i know how you feel, and i know it's really hard. i'm sorry for never noticing.” his sincerity makes her calloused heart soften.

“yeah, it's hard; but for what it's worth, i think she loves you, too,” she tells him.

“i really hope so,” he replies with a sardonic smile before it melts into something more genuine. “thank you for telling me about your feelings. i'm sorry that i don't feel the same way, but i hope you find somebody who does.”

“thank you,” she says, more sincerely this time. “friends?” with this, she extends her hand for him to shake. he smiles at her gesture as he complies. 

“friends.” hesitantly, she pulls him into a hug. he’s stunned for a second before patting her back in reciprocation. he can’t love her, but he can learn to appreciate her, which he has never done, even with all of her help. maybe he’s becoming a better person because of you. 

as if on cue, the door opens the moment that thought is fully formed. he’s relieved to see you for the split second before he realizes how this must look to you. he madly breaks away from her in a haste.

“it's not what it looks like!” he exclaims, and chaewon tactfully rises and scurries out of the door before shutting it behind her, but you remain silent and rooted to your spot.

“i swear! it's really not what it looks like,” he says pleadingly as he stands and grabs your hands, which you promptly smack away. 

“i just fucking knew this would happen,” you spit. “i won't give it up to you, so you turn around and pull this shit — is that it?”

“n-no! seriously, we’re just friends! she told me that she had feelings for me, but i rejected her, and we said we would just be friends,” he desperately explains. “i swear to god i would never do that to y—” he wants to continue, but the way your shoulders shake as you put your head in your hands stops him in his tracks. 

he hurriedly embraces you as he hears muffled cries escape your lips.

“i’m so sorry, please don’t cry. it wasn’t what it looked like, i promise,” he says as soothingly as he can muster, but that doesn't seem to stop your tears. he feels more and more helpless as you continue to break down in front of him, so he resorts to saying whatever he can think of to calm you down. 

“i’m sorry, it’s all my fault. i never should’ve touched her. just don't cry, okay? i hate seeing you cry,” he whispers as he draws circles on your back, pressing you closer to him. after a while, your sobs die out and your breathing becomes more steady. 

“a-are you okay?” he timidly probes. you stare at him with eyebrows furrowed for a bit before you slightly nod. he purses his lips before continuing.

“are you going to leave me?” he whispers, and he regrets asking as soon as the words leave his lips. 

it's okay if you're only indulging him in this would-be relationship because you pity him. it's okay if he's just a pit stop in your love story with soobin. it's okay if he turns out to be nothing more than a momentary distraction from the actual love of your life, just as long as you stay with him for as long as you can stand it. why would he question his place in your life? why would he ruin a good thing by making you tell him to his face that you don't want him? he should've just waited for you to figure it out on your own instead of forcing you to confront the true nature of your feelings for him. 

when he’s met with nothing but your pensive silence, he speaks again.

“i-i’m sorry i asked. i, um, i understand,” he adds defeatedly.

“no,” you croak. 

“n-no? what do you mean by —” 

“no, i won’t leave you,” you declare, a little bit more confidently this time.

“you won’t?” he asks doubtfully, taken aback by this sentiment.

“do you want me to?” 

“no! i-i just can’t believe it. why would you stay with me?” 

“because i think you love me. do you?” 

“of course!” he exclaims.

“then will you show me? how much you love me, i mean?” you ask.

“h-how do you mean?”

you look up at him and pull him by his collar so his lips meet yours, and his eyes widen before he melts into the kiss. he feels like he’s floating as you move your lips against his, but he groans when you softly tug his hair, which allows you to snake your tongue into his welcoming mouth. that’s enough to replace the floating feeling with one of pure need. when you part, you're both gasping for air. 

“are you sure?” he seemed so lost in the feeling before, but he looks nothing short of timid right now, endearing you in a way you previously thought was impossible.

“yes.”

he gulps and guides you to his bed, firmly gripping your hand as if he’ll lose you if he doesn’t hold onto you. carefully, reverently, he begins to undress you, making sure not to be too rough, juxtaposing how crass he was the first (and last) time you two did this. when you’re fully undressed, he shamelessly takes the view of you in. you subconsciously feel embarrassed and start to cover yourself, and he gently, but firmly, takes your arms and pulls them away from your shivering frame.

“don’t hide from me. you’re beautiful,” he whispers, before ducking down and pulling you in for a heated kiss. it’s still gentle, but there’s more fire behind it than usual. eventually, he breaks away and quickly rids himself of his clothes, contrasting greatly with the tenderness he showed you as he took yours off. when he’s finished, he kisses you again. this time, though, he doesn’t just stop at your lips, and he trails hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck before he pushes you down onto the bed and finds his way down to your aching pussy.

he plants kisses on your open thighs until your legs are trembling and your core is glistening with anticipation. greedily, he takes one experimental, flat-tongued lick from your pussy and groans at your taste. he starts slowly — licking stripes until his movements become a series of alternating between this and more focused licks to your folds and clit. eventually, he takes one of his fingers and prods at your weeping hole before pushing it in to the knuckle. he curls and teases until he finds your sweet spot with little effort. 

“o-oh,” you sigh, but before you can get used to the feeling, he slides another finger in and repeats his movements, softly sucking on your clit as he does it. beomgyu tries to show restraint, he really does, but you taste so good that before long, he’s practically hammering his fingers into you while he licks and sucks on your lower lips. you’re no match for his skilled tongue, so you’re falling apart more quickly than you’d like to admit. you hold onto his hair for dear life, tugging a little harder than you probably should, but you’re in no state to control your harshness as you reach the end. 

“gyu, i’m gonna — oh, shit — i’m coming! i’m coming!” you cry as your legs buckle, tightening around his head against your will. he doesn’t pull away, however; he just lets you cage him in between your thighs as if he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world. as you come down, he laps up your cum and removes his fingers to directly stick his tongue in your clenching hole. you think you might have to pull him off of you due to overstimulation, but he (reluctantly) does it himself before you can quite get there. 

he makes no move to clean himself up, and his expression is one of pure bliss, as if you were the one who just gave him the best oral of his life and not the other way around. he pulls you in for a heavy kiss, and you taste yourself along with the sweetness that is beomgyu. he tries to be patient, but he can't help but frantically line himself up with your entrance, poking and prodding his tip against your still-spasming hole as he takes one of your hands into his own while using the other to guide himself into you. 

“is this okay?” he nervously asks. you nod. with a strained breath, he slowly begins to push into you. 

it's a struggle to push himself in, meeting resistance as you clench around him, pussy trying desperately to accommodate his length. your hand tightly grips his as you feel the almost unbearable stretch, and he soothingly caresses his thumb over your finger, shuddering as you take him in inch by inch. it feels even better than the first time, somehow — you're even warmer and wetter than before. with labored breaths, he tries to keep himself from coming early as he feels you contracting around him. when he’s finally completely sheathed in you, it's like puzzle pieces fitting together; things seem more right than they have since, well, the last time you two did this. you stay like  that for what must be a long time — just feeling each other in an act of pure intimacy as you both heave out labored breaths. 

“are you ready?” he whispers, and after a few seconds, you nod. he shakily pulls out, feeling your pussy struggling to keep him in, and takes a deep breath before piercing you in one fluid motion, scraping against your g-spot with ease. you whimper at the sensation as he pulls himself out before ramming back in again. 

“relax, baby. i know you can take me. you were made for me,” he says soothingly as he sets his pace. he tries to take things slowly, but it’s difficult when it feels like you’re sucking him in with every thrust. his words comfort you, and before long, you're melting into his touch.

“so good,” he groans as he repeatedly hits your cervix. “you’re so fucking perfect.” all you can do is moan in response, feeling so detached from reality that the only thing chaining you to it is the way he’s fucking you. your grip on his hand tightens until you’re sure his fingers are numb, but he makes no move to stop you. he even leans down to plant a kiss on your lips, which was meant to be mostly innocent, but it quickly devolves into your tongues and teeth clashing against  each other as he snaps his hips into yours. you feel more than full as he stretches you out and pounds into you so deeply, you feel him in your stomach. you can only be described as lightheaded as he hits the deepest parts of you relentlessly, and you feel yourself getting closer to your climax — causing you to let out an animalistic whine.

“shh, baby. i’ve got you. just let go, okay?” you have no choice but to oblige when he continues drilling into you. you couldn't stop even if you wanted to. it's only a few moments before your eyes are rolling backwards as you mercilessly clamp down around him. the feeling of you tightening on his length pushes him to his own end, and he moans out “oh, g-god, i love you,” while he spills himself into you, shuddering as he does it. you feel his hot cum flooding your insides, eventually leaking out of your aching cunt as he slowly thrusts it into you. you stay like that, just joined together, for a long while.

with reluctance, he pulls out of you. you're both silent as he collapses on top of you and mindlessly toys with your hair. 

“i love you, too,” you whisper.

“w-what?” he shoots up and stares at you in disbelief, scanning your face in earnest.

“you heard me,” you reply. 

“can you — can you say it again? please?” your purse your lips before responding.

“i love you, too.”

he doesn't mean for them to, but his eyes well up with tears. he grabs you and flips you on top of him before locking his arms around you. your head rests comfortably against his chest as he pulls you closer and closer, nuzzling his cheek onto the top of your head. 

“i can't believe this is real,” he whispers between his tears, and you can't stop yourself from smiling at the sheer amount of awe in his tone. “i'll be so good to you, you won't believe it.”

“okay,” you chuckle, in spite of yourself. what can you do other than believe him when he's so damn desperate? 

notes pt. 2: finishing this has most certainly been an uphill battle. i was writing like a few sentences a day for the longest time. still, i hope you all enjoyed this. i love you very much, my friends. also, please let me know what you thought about it (as long as it's not mean!)

taglist(s)

permanent (sfw/[n]sfw): @lonelybutterflytae @cherrycolaberry @midwinterblizzard @everythingvirgoes @sooberryworld @20-cms @inkigayocamman @hyueika @boba-beom @vicurious28 @blossommi @lickingan0rchid @katsukis1wife @binniebakery @notevenheretbh1 @shymexican @that1sadgrl @archoive @paegesoobin @buttercreamerie @ifwtxt @softesyoongi @serenityism00 @fairfootedflekk @kyanmeai @definitelynotherr @hyunj00 @taehyunluvrs @m00gyu @denleave1088 @hwanghyunjinismybae @bmo-bri

for the hope of it all: @calssunflower @wildernessuntothemselves @pluslandminun @enhasrii @vixensss @pagetammgyu @tyongluvs @aduh0308 @11thenightwemet11

[david-blackthorn]

I havnt read those books in the shadowhunter chronicles yet, what are your favorite things about them? (Im curious whether I should read them or not since I have such a big tbr already)

Oh maaan you're in for a ride

I have no idea which series in the Shadowhunter Universe you meant exactly but i'll start with my fav

Part I:

The Dark Artifices:

Do you ever feel like your soul needs a good mix of romantic pining, chaotic battles, and emotional devastation? The Dark Artifices is calling your name.

But seriously if you love stories that combine heart-pounding action, deep family bonds, and characters so real you’ll find yourself thinking about them long after you've finished the books? This is the series for you!

This series follows a family of Shadowhunters in sunny Los Angeles (yes, there are beaches AND demon fights) as they deal with forbidden love, ancient laws that make no sense, and plot twists that will leave you staring at the ceiling at 3 AM like: what just happened.

It’s got:

Two people who can’t be together because of reasons but have enough chemistry to destroy you.

A goofy warlock with more secrets than anyone is ready for.

A soft boy who paints and probably writes poetry but will absolutely murder you if you hurt his siblings and childhood friend.

A broody faerie loner who says “I work alone” but would probably die for his friends.

“I would die for my siblings, but also, they’re so annoying” energy.

Found-family dynamics that will have you texting your friends, “DO YOU SEE THIS?”

And, of course, the *painful but addictive* mix of love, loyalty, and chaos...

Enemies-to-lovers? No, wait—friends-to-lovers? Actually, it’s more like "reluctantly obsessed but too emotionally constipated to say it."

Three people staring dramatically at each other like ‘Is this polyamory or a REALLY complicated love triangle?

Characters who will make you scream, “JUST COMMUNICATE,” but you’ll love them anyway.

Enough family angst to fuel a therapy session for years.

A genius, autistic boy who solves mysteries but can’t solve the mystery of his own feelings

Main characters? Let’s just say there’s a parabatai bond that’s more complicated than your high school crush.

The plot? Fast-paced, full of betrayal, and packed with vicious fight scenes.

The family? Everything is fine...except when it’s not.

The romance? You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll probably scream and definitely ship things that should not be shipped. :)

Basically a murder mystery, faerie politics, and the most relatable struggle of all: Trying to keep your family alive and well while the world is falling apart.

Fair warning: you’ll never emotionally recover (and you’ll love every second).

part II:

The Mortal Instruments:

If you’re looking for a fast-paced urban fantasy series full of adventure, humor, and heart, you need to pick up The Mortal Instruments.

It’s got everything: shadowy secrets, epic battles, forbidden love, and enough twists and turns to keep you hooked from start to finish. Plus, the friendships and family bonds will hit you right in the feels.

If you like:

Hot people with emotional trauma

Family dynamics so messy even you would say "y’all need therapy"

Enemies-to-lovers-to-enemies-to-allies-to-love(maybe) but make it *gay*

Bonus gay dads with actual functional communication (because someone has to balance the chaos)

A love triangle that's not technically a triangle, but don't worry, it'll still destroy your soul

If you do then babe, let me introduce you to The Mortal Instruments:

It’s like Twilight, but everyone fights better is hotter and has sarcasm set to ✨maximum damage✨.

You'll question the characters' life choices, then realize your own aren’t much better.

There’s an overachieving golden boy with a superiority complex who definitely Googles his own name but is secretly baby.

A girl who just wants to vibe and maybe not be surrounded by apocalypses, but alas.

A cinnamon roll nerd who says, “I don’t want to be here,” but somehow ends up saving the day every time.

And a guy who walks in like: "I’m too goth for this mess," but then adopts everyone and pays for dinner.

The Mortal Instruments is what happens when an ex fanfic writer starts a writing carrier and makes a book series: chaotic, emotional, weirdly self-aware, and packed with heart. Read it. Your inner emo kid will thank you.

Bonus:

The plot? Like Supernatural on speed.

The dialogue? Whedon-esque but with more sass per square inch.

The drama? Every fanfic writer wishes they wrote this level of ✨chaotic bisexual disaster energy✨.

If this sounds appealing, congratulations! This series was literally written for you.

part III:

The Infernal Devices:

The Infernal Devices by Cassandra Clare is an absolute gem of a series, blending romance, adventure, and a touch of Victorian-era steampunk. If you love books with unforgettable characters, heart-wrenching love triangles (in the best way), and a beautifully atmospheric setting, this is the series for you.

It’s full of witty banter, emotional depth, and a story that stays with you long after you turn the last page. Trust me—there’s no ‘right’ team to root for, but you’ll love every moment of trying to decide.

The plot? Wild.

The romance? Devastating.

The side characters? Hot, chaotic, and probably more interesting than the main ones in most other books you’ve read.

Let’s not forget:

The Victorian Aesthetic™ (it’s giving Pinterest board).

A robot army that would make Skynet say, “You okay, bro?”

Poetry recitals that feel like life-or-death declarations.

And more tragic backstories than a Shakespearean play.

It's got:

a steampunk version of London where demons and shadowhunters roam the cobblestone streets, and your biggest problem isn’t the fog, but the ✨existential dread✨.

There’s a protagonist who just wanted to read books but accidentally became the center of everyone’s emotional drama (relatable queen).

A golden retriever boy who’s so perfect it physically hurts and is slowly dying.

And a sad boy™️ who looks like he stepped straight out of a My Chemical Romance album, only with a reading obsession.

A love triangle where instead of fighting, the two love interests are like, ‘Hey, what if we all just loved each other?’

Friendships so deep they’ll make you scream, “WHY CAN’T THE WORLD LET THEM BE HAPPY?”

A heroine who’s like, ‘Do I choose the guy who might secretly hate himself more than anyone else alive, or the literal angel in human form?’ (Spoiler: she chooses both. Iconic.)

Brooding boys who quote poetry in life-or-death situations (because of course they do).

*A love triangle where instead of fighting, the two love interests are like, ‘Hey, what if we all just loved each other?’

Start with Clockwork Angel and get ready to laugh, cry, and ugly sob over Will, Jem, and Tessa. But be warned: this series will RUIN you in the most beautiful way possible.

I won't write a summary of The Last Hours since i haven't finished it yet sorry babes, but hope you liked these *mwa*

[anabetel35]

My heart goes out to all the girls to whom girlhood doesn't or didn't come easily. To trans girls, to neurodivergent girls, to girls of color, to girls who decided to hang on to their girlhood far later than all the girls around them did, to girls who aren't skinny, to girls whose bodies made people percieve them as women rather than girls, to disabled girls, to queer girls, to people who may not be just girls but experience girlhood too. To everyone who ever had to carve out a version of girlhood that fit them becasue no one else would've given it to them. To everyone who bled for their girlhood. To everyone who keeps redefining girlhood to suit them. The girlhood that you made for yourself is precious becasue it's yours and I cannot even begin to imagine all the work and tears and love that you put into it. I love you and I hope that you love yourself, too, for being yourself. You deserve the world <3

[victormcdicktor]

Please take a moment to help Abood and his wife.

Abood and his wife Maria are struggling to survive the genocide in Ghazzah together since last year.

The home where Abood lived and the clothing store where he worked were both destroyed. He's since been displaced over 10 times, and now lives in a tent with his wife.

The tent is small and does barely anything to protect from the weather. The extreme heat during the summer and the abundance of insects have caused Maria to become very sick. Unfortunately, due to the conditions in Ghazzah, Abood is unable to access medical care for her.

In order to evacuate, they need to raise $40,000 USD. So far, they've raised $36,239; they're getting very close but still need more support!

Do whatever you can to help them; donate if you can and share their campaign! Every contribution matters.

VETTED BY ASSOCIATION

TAG LIST (DM me for removal)

@whisperingmedows @e @rykerpuppy @renmemberme @t0w0bey @teddycuba @yogurtcake2000 @uchorusa @imp-panada @irunkefir @insufferablepilled @ichor-arrows @passion2lovvers @awesomepeoplehangingouttogether @dirkcapitationn @fatalbloomsinmoon @nabulsi @90-ghost @el-shab-hussein @aria-ashryver @northgazaupdates2 @sar-soor @flower-tea-fairies @palestinegenocide @gazagfmboost @palestine-info-uncensored @heba-20 @aces-and-angels @fairycosmos @greenpinkstraw @ibtisams @radicalgraff @r4ms3yy @thestrugglerrr @shug888 @decolonize-the-everything @fototingobug @gaza-evacuation-funds @g3wgaw @greydrits @gainnecorpse @gasfuzbj @hamsterdads @himbo-noxx @heijegerkannibal @juliccardi @jvstcallmespade @kk3o2 @katylokk @keff-fr @literallyneurodivergentandaminor @lenaeeessshhh @la7ma-mafrooma @lutielutik @certified-dentist @cemetaryvampire @chemautopsy @cryptid-catnip @vetted-gaza-funds @vantisanjo @blu-berriez @neptunerings @neatleaf @meit1

@fancysmudges @brokenbackmountain @mothblossoms @aleciosun @fluoresensitive @khizuo @lesbiandardevil @transmutationisms @schoolhater @timogsilangan @appsa @buttercuparry @sayruq @malcriada @palestinegenocide @sar-soor @akajustmerry @feluka @tortiefrancis @flower-tea-fairies @tsaricides @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @visenyasdragon @belleandsaintsebastian @ear-motif @kordeliiius @raelyn-dreams @troythecatfish @theropoda @tamarrud @4ft10tvlandfangirl @queerstudiesnatural @northgazaupdates2 @skatezophrenic @awetistic-things @baby-girl-aaron-dessner @nabulsi @sygold @junglejim4322 @heritageposts @chososhairbuns @palistani @dlxxv-vetted-donations @illuminated-runas @imjustheretotrytohelp

(sorry for the randomness of the tags, I just used what popped up. If anyone has advice on how to make a good taglist please tell me)

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

“You’ve fallen for them, haven’t you?” Price asked, following Simon’s line of sight, his eyes landing on your figure.

Your laughter filled the air, causing a smile to form on both the men’s lips. They’d been watching you for the last few minutes, casually joking about with Soap.

Simon was quiet as his mind filled with thoughts of you. The way you always smiled at him, even in the worst of times. The way you laughed so care free, a laugh that could cure any ailment Simon could possibly have. The way you cared for him, more than he’d ever had someone care for him in his life.

Prices eyes drifted back toward Simon, a small smile dancing on his lips. “It warms an old man’s heart you know.”

Simon looked over at his captain, his brow furrowing in confusion. “What’s that?”

“I’ve known you for how many years, Simon?” Price rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he held Simon’s gaze. “Never once have I seen you smile the way you do around them. You deserve to be happy, son.”

Simon let Price’s words sink in, the prospect of being with you in that way was not entirely unwelcome for Simon. But he was scared. Simon was such a broken mess of a man that he truly believed nothing could piece him back together.

Price stood, drawing Simon’s attention back to him, and clasped Simon’s shoulder firmly. “Don’t let that thick skull of yours prevent you from being happy. Take it from someone who knows.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Simon found you again later that day, his palms sweaty from his nerves. “Hey, you got a sec?”

You looked up from the stack of paperwork in front of you, the warm smile lining your lips as you looked at Simon had his knees nearly buckling. “Of course.”

Any confidence Simon had walking in there, was now gone as he stared down at you. Your E/C eyes melting his insides as he struggled to formulate the words he’d just practiced earlier.

“I..” Damnit! What was wrong with him? He was Simon fucking Riley for god sakes. He was supposed to be fearless. Yet here he was rendered a stuttering mess in front of you. “Fuck.”

You let out a soft giggle, causing Simon’s insides to warm. “Is everything okay, Si?”

Your nickname for him always had Simons brain in a fog, and it certainly wasn’t helping his case in this moment. “Yeah, yeah I just uh..”

You patiently watched as Simon struggled to form the words, your smile never faltering as his eyes drifted toward your lips.

“Are you free later?” He finally asked, his words coming out rushed.

“Is there a training?” You pondered, your mind flicking through the upcoming training schedule. “I wasn’t made-.”

“No.” Simon interjected. “It’s uh.. it’d just be you and I. There’s this pub I like to go to by base.”

Simon didn’t think it possible, but your smile widened even more, taking up the entire lower half of your face. “Are you asking me on a date, Mr. Riley?”

His cheeks burned crimson as your teasing, his belly doing flip flops as he gave you a curt nod. “Affirmative.”

“I would love that.” You said, as you stood to your feet. “It’s about damn time you asked me.”

Simon smiled brighter and wider than he’d ever had in his life, his mind now swirling with thoughts of the perfect first date. For the first time in a long time, Simon Riley was excited.

Maybe something could piece together his broken self after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: please excuse my multiple Simon fluff pieces. Ya girl has to heal🥹

[hereforthehitsbaby]

Careful, Bub | DP&W!Logan Howlett x F!Reader

Synopsis: I showed my friends, then we high-fived / Sorry if you feel objectified / Can't help myself, hormones are high / Give me more than just some butterflies

Warnings: Mutual Pining, Masturbation, Sexting, Nude Photos, Mentions of Sex Toy Use, Dom!Logan, Logan Talks You Through It, P R A I S E K I N K ! L O G A N, Choking of the Sexual Variety, Shoving, Claws Come Out,  Age Gap (Reader is in their late 20’s – Logan is 200 years old), Reader used to have confidence issues but worked through them,

Rating: M – No Minors

Word Count: 8.5k

To be tagged in any future work of mine, please fill this out.

It’s fun to relate to the people that live in the same place as you, something about it deepens the connection. Whether it is a mutual bonding over music, entertainment, or even sports – it always makes you feel closer, comfortable. In this day and age, it can be almost lonely if you aren’t connected with others through your phone, making the world feel a bit glummer. Having that safe group is necessary to be one with the world, to feel like you’re going to be okay – like everything is going to pan out. You happened to luck out by living in the same building as some of the most heinous, and hilarious characters the world has ever set eyes on. You have the fortune of calling them your friends.

The group chat was originally Wade’s idea. His way of bringing you into the crew when you worked late, not missing a moment of meet ups you couldn’t make it to. It was a sweet gesture, but with how many others were in there – it overwhelmed you. Out of the twelve people who are constantly messaging the chat, you found safety within two of them. Negasonic and Yukio happened to be your solace when the chat was too loud. Yukio wasted no time in creating a Girls Only chat for you three, where nothing was held back. You three could express yourselves in every way possible, without the guys being weirdos – mainly Wade but still. It was great to have women friends around your own age, that was something you were not used to. 

Any inside joke about the guys or about events being organized was ran through your three separately, making small bets here and there on what Al would say, who Peter would try to have grab his chain, how many times Logan told Wade to fuck off. Logan, that made you tune in real quick. The possibilities were endless and made it eventful to say the least. But the one thing you loved the most about your friendship with Nega and Yukio is how open they are with you; Honest, encouraging, your own personal cheerleaders. When you initially met them, you were a shy little wallflower – getting by on just being a listener over a talker. Always the encourager, never getting encouragement. Shying away anytime someone was nice to you, never accepting it as truth. Yukio and Nega were the opposite of what you were, and everything you wanted to be.

Having a safe space with them meant you could send them anything and they’d listen, give advice, be the best friends you could’ve ever asked for. It was with them that you found your confidence, something you always struggled with. It was one photo you sent them of the dress you were wearing – both ladies telling you how beautiful and gorgeous you are, how hot you looked in it. That small little omission altered your brain chemistry. You hadn’t been called hot before, so it invigorated you to hear that. It was a long dive into the endless pool below, and you were ready for the journey down. Months and months of slowly getting out of your shell with them turned you into a little vixen, the compliments they gave you caused you to thrive. You always reciprocated for them as well, hyping them up through and through. It felt good to feel like you were worth it, like you weren’t just there. It changed the way you saw yourself, and you knew you’d never go back to how it was before.

Tonight was no different, after all you had just gotten back from hanging out with them. A trip downtown to the mall was a call for chaos when it was you three, Wade forcing Logan to stay home with him and reenact The Greatest Showman with Mary Puppins. It bummed you out for a bit, not being able to chill with Logan like you wanted, but when Wade called – no one told him no. It was a secret to everyone who wasn’t Yukio and Nega that you had a thing for Logan. Something about the older man burned right through you in the most sensual way possible, something deep and longing you never wanted to leave. Little glances you two would have together always caused the girls to giggle, teasing you about it later but, it was only a matter of time before the chord snapped, before you gave in. Still that fear sat at the back of your mind, the what if’s. What if he doesn’t want me? What if he doesn’t want anyone? What if? What if? What if?

As you sit on your plush rug right in front of your wall length mirror, you leaned against the side of your bed, humming as you thumbed through the earlier group chat messages. Behind you on your duvet sat the bag full of clothing you had gotten, trying to add more color into your wardrobe. Beneath it all sat a spicy little number you nabbed whole Yukio and Nega were changing, something that felt so right you needed to have it. It wasn’t a secret that you would buy yourself things like these every now and again but, this time around you felt empowered holding this little secret just for yourself, to surprise your friends with. They always said that color duo made you look fearless, powerful, gorgeous – and you’d be damned if you’d pass it up, especially on sale.

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you contemplated getting up to take a shower or put on your new set, feeling yourself out, getting some prime photos then showering. The toss up between the two left you unable to choose, wondering if you could go hang out with Wade and Laura instead, maybe even sneak your way into Logan’s room. The thought made your body shiver, needing to close your eyes for a moment to brace yourself. Taking a deep breath in, you let your mind wander, your hand grabbing the bag off your bed instinctively. It was a given deep down you wanted to prance around your room in the set, spicing up your night. Something about wearing it underneath your clothes while hanging out with everyone felt taboo, downright sinful – but you craved it.

Feeling your body tremble with anticipation, you gently grabbed each piece of lingerie out of the bag, the rustling of tissue paper filling the air as your music droned low in the background. The bra was placed carefully against the bed first, followed by the lacy things and garter set; Your eyes quivered with arousal as you saw it, knowing how it was going to make you feel. There was no wasted effort in stripping completely naked, tossing your day clothes into the laundry basket. The slight cool breeze coming from your central air, mixing with the intoxicating smell of the candles lit around you made your eyes darken, your nipples pebbling against the air. You understood why you were excited and giddy to be putting it in, but in the back of your mind you also felt nervous. It was confusing you.

Pushing it out of your head, you ignored the nagging in the back of your mind, solely focusing on the task at hand. Sliding the soft lace of the thong up your thighs, you reveled in how it felt – how it glided against your skin so softly, like it was a lover. How supportive it felt cupping your front whilst holding your behind helped to quell some of the nerves lying low in your belly. Snapping the elastic band against your hip, you giggled as you grabbed the bra. Even though it was lacy and covered almost nothing, it had good support for your breasts, holding them perfectly to show the most amount of cleavage, but also leaving some to the imagination. In between the small bits of detailing, you could see the color of your nipple, which caused your smirk to grow. Biting your bottom lip, you smoothed your hands over the apex of your breasts, watching as the flesh spilled over slightly.

All that was left was your garter belt, sitting across the middle of your stomach and hooking onto your stockings. You worked quickly to pull them up as you let the music take over you, swaying to the beat so it was less intimidating. As the final strap was hooked to the top of your stockings, you let out a shaky sigh, silently prepping yourself for what you would see once you turned around. Keeping your eyes closed you spun around slowly, letting the anticipation eat away at you until you couldn’t take anymore. Usually you were so confident when it came to trying these pieces on, not giving a second worry to them – this time around you were nervous, as if this particular color scheme made you scared. You couldn’t let that hold you back, not after how far you have come, it wasn’t worth it.

Slowly you opened your eyes as you faced the mirror, the blue tint of the strip lighting giving a whimsy glow to your room. The focal point of your vision started to become clear as you looked at your face, makeup still immaculate and beautiful from earlier. But as your eyes panned down to your body, you felt a fresh wave of goosebumps flood your skin, a shaky moan leaving your lips. The yellow of the bra and thong complimented your figure wonderfully, amplifying the gorgeous glow of your skin. But truly it was the navy blue of your stockings and belt that made your body quiver; The royal deep color punctuating your sensuality with how you stood. You couldn’t believe this was you, in all your baren glory – a fucking goddess amongst men, you could send one to the hospital just with this set. You couldn’t keep your smile back any longer as you stared at yourself, admiring your body and its shape against the lingerie. All the worries, all the small doubts instantly fell away, your confidence skyrocketing.

You knew for a fact Yukio and Nega would hype you up, thinking this was totally you¸ and probably ask if you got it today. But those could wait, you needed to take photos – you needed to see what you looked like on screen. The giddy nature of what you were doing sent shivers through your body, the thought of what positions would look best making you grow excited. You decided that your go-to for new outfits would fit perfectly in this scenario. Who knows, you could save this photo for a rainy day when you wanted to tease someone. You grabbed your phone off of the bed as you dropped to your knees, the plush shag material of your lilac rug feeling lovely against your legs.

Parting your thighs, you left a good gap between both as you sunk yourself down. One hand came to press against the floor directly in front of your clothed core, tossing your hair over to the opposite side. As you held your phone in position with your free hand, you noticed how your arm was pushing your breasts together deliciously, deepening the cleavage, sending your eyes a shade darker. Pouting your lip as cutely as you do, you snapped a few quick photos, getting every great angle you could as you changed your hair direction. A blur of photos filled your camera roll as you felt yourself, “Juno” by Sabrina Carpenter coming across your playlist at the best time.

As you laughed to yourself, you finally stopped taking photos, sitting with your back against the bed and crossing your legs. Each photo you took was a masterpiece, amplifying your beauty by tenfold. But out of each one, it was the very first one that felt real, authentic to you. The others you were playing sexy up, trying to get the best fuck me look going, but it felt too artificial for your taste. It was the first one, the one where your eyes were dilated, where your nipples perked beneath the fabric, where your thighs trembled that made you feel like a God. It was a no brainer that this is what Yukio and Nega were getting, there was no way around it now. Clicking the share icon in your camera roll, you clicked on the first green bubble, eyes blurred from how excited you were about this risky photo. I’d be a lot tougher with claws.

You sent off the cheeky message without a second more thought to it, locking your phone instantly. As you tossed the device on your bed, you put on the silk bathrobe hanging off of the corner of your mirror, wrapping yourself up quickly. All that thirst-trapping made you thirsty, the dry mouth you were getting was too much for you. As you opened your bedroom, making it around to your kitchen of your apartment, you opened your fridge up quickly to grab a water bottle. The cold plastic in your hand brought you back to Earth, your body coming back into itself as your reality started to slip back in. The cap was popped off easily by you, finding its way across the quartz top. Bringing the bottle to your lips, you let them wrap around the opening, gulping down the cold liquid. It felt nice with how hot you felt, bringing your internal temperature back down as your mind cleared.

Ding. The tone of your phone going off made you stop drinking, catching your breath as you swallowed down the water. So lost in bringing yourself back to the present time, you forgot you had messaged the chat. You screwed the lid back onto the bottle as you set it on the countertop, promising to come back to it. As you made your way elegantly back to your room, that pull of nausea and nerves made you stop. Your stomach churned as you stood in the doorway, the threshold keeping you upright. That same feeling from earlier was back as you put on the lingerie, not knowing why you felt so nervous and scared all of a sudden. It made you confused, weary as to what your body was trying to tell you. It’s just Yukio and Nega, why are you being so flighty? Groaning to yourself, you rolled your eyes as you made your way back to your bed.

Plopping down onto the duvet, you sprawled out on your stomach as you grabbed your phone, using your face ID to unlock it. Yes you would. Colors look good on you. You cocked a brow at the message, reading the lines over and over again. It didn’t sound like Nega or Yukio to be so short-worded. Usually, they would send a plethora of emojis before screaming in all caps. But that was just the thing, your last message open wasn’t to the group chat, but one individual instead. It all made sense now, why you felt so scared and nervous. Your eyes went wide as you read the contact’s name, not seeing your groupchat. No, instead it read Logan. It wasn’t the groupchat that received the photo, it was him.

You screamed as you threw your phone across the floor, palms shaking as you sat up silently. The noise in your brain was too loud to focus, the intake of your breath and blood pulsing through your ears made everything too much. Anxiety was sitting in the back of your throat, threatening to spill your stomach out. You scrambled across the floor on your hands and knees to grab your phone, still unlocked from a few moments ago. Shaky fingers worked to unsend the photo, blessing the tech gods for that feature. You were too anxious to type, opting for speech to text instead. “I’m so sorry about that! I meant to send that to Nega and Yukio.” Seeing the wording typed out didn’t feel right, as weird as that sounded. Admitting it felt like a sin, more so than sending a sexy photo to The Wolverine. After all, wasn’t this your endgame anyways? It’s not like you haven’t deep infatuated with him since he became Wade’s friend, since you started hanging around him a lot more. Wasn’t it you who stated that by the end of the year, you’d kiss him? Wasn’t it you who said you would fight tooth and nail to make him yours?

Being sucked into your mind by your thoughts caused you to delay in sending your message, instead removing the text with your finger to completely disappear. Ding. Right as you were thinking of your response, you saw another message come through from Logan, one you didn’t anticipate. Put it back. Now. There was no way he said that, right? Oh, but there was. As your eyes shook from excitement, nervousness, and fear you could make out the small letters of Logan’s message, feeling his desire through the text. He wasn’t a big texter, he even said that himself – but to see him say more than two words was insane to you, even now when he was clearly enamored with you. There was no right or wrong way to reply, but no words you could think of held a light to the dominance Logan is showing.

Incoming FaceTime Call: Logan. The red and green buttons at the bottom made you stir, wondering if it would be a good idea to answer. This was one of his favorite ways to communicate, to see how things were going and what you were up to. Granted they never lasted more than two minutes because Wade would always hijack it but still – the little slivers of time you got with Logan was special. This time around though? It felt wired, like if you answered you’d get the shock of a lifetime. But what was life without a little self-indulgence? Looking up at yourself in the mirror, you fixed a few strands of your hair, pulling your robe a bit tighter around your chest as you sat back against the bed, letting your butt hit the floor as you got comfortable. Dragging your thumb along the green answer button, you positioned your phone a few inches away from your face, enough to get your collarbone up in the shot. A slow, pregnant pause caused by your phone’s connection delayed seeing Logan. But once it came to be, you were taken aback.

The dark of the early night was cresting behind his head, the sun starting to descend into the horizon. His eyes glittered against the holiday lights, causing your heart to swell. Once he looked back down at the camera, he couldn’t help himself but by staring at you, a small smile threatening to take over his lips. “Hey,” he let out with an airy breath, the slight chill of the night causing it to puff out. You felt yourself suck in a breath, the energy already charged. Reflecting his own smile, you sent your own through your phone as you waved. “Hi.” Usually you were a lot more talkative, teasing him to make him smile but – none of that felt right in this moment. Even with seeing his face on your screen, you could tell he was hiding something – not really saying what he wanted to. His eyes were black against the horizon behind him, no sight of hazel coming through.

“How’re you?” You managed to let out, your voice lower than usual as you let your legs stretch out, leaning further back against the side of the bed. Logan didn’t miss a second of your movements as he walked down the street, the light bustling of cars filling the sound barrier. From the buildings behind him, you could see he was downtown, more than likely heading to the bar for a quick drink. You silently wished he asked to meet you there, to hang out privately for once. But that playful glint in his pupils told a different story as he rounded the corner, staring down at you. “Did Wade tell you about my suit?”

Logan asked with a slight smirk, narrowing his eyes suspiciously as he watched for your reaction. Cocking a brow in his direction you tried to understand what he was asking, not sure what suit he meant. You knew that Logan was The Wolverine, it was no secret. But you never saw his suit, only meeting him a week after he jumped into your timeline. Shaking your head at his question, you pulled your lower lip between your teeth, gnawing on the skin to help combat the butterflies in your stomach. The swishing of your hair from side-to-side aiding in cooling you down. “Then what made you choose yellow and blue?” His smirk never let off as he asked, prying. He wanted to fully talk about the photo, he wanted to see if it was truly accidental or planned. Your mouth went dry when he asked, not having a concrete answer for why you chose that color scheme. Shrugging you tightly laughed, releasing your lip as you focused on your mirror. “I thought it was a pretty combination.”

Pretty, by association it was like you were calling Logan pretty. Even if you didn’t know about his original suit, still he associated himself with those colors. Logan mirrored how you were before, pulling his own bottom lip between his teeth as he chuckled. Struggling for a moment, Logan managed to flip his camera around to pan at his legs – the clean yellow and blue pants is all he had to remember his original suit. It caused your heartrate to pick up again, hammering in your chest as you got a brief glimpse at his clothed crotch. It took every fiber of your being to contain yourself, to hide the whimper clawing up the back of your throat. Lost in thought of what he could be hiding under there you didn’t notice how the screen flashed a few times – a text bubble popping up you couldn’t focus on. Logan took screenshots of your reaction.

The camera flipped back to Logan’s face, the heat cresting its way up your neck as you stared at him, your own pupils blown out.  “Do you still think so?” He teased, dropping his voice down a few octaves. You could tell he was wearing his headphones to talk, making it more intimate for him to hear than everyone else. It sent your body up in flames at how you could say anything, and it would be only for Logan. “More than ever before.” It was a no-brained response, you didn’t have to think in order to speak. Your mind was already as alert as it was going to be, the filter around Logan you had previously no longer existed on this call. Logan stopped his walking to stare down at you, narrowing his eyes with a genuine smile as he licked his lips, nodding to himself.

Logan jutted his chin out towards the camera as he started to walk up another well-lit street, never taking his eyes off the camera. “You wanna show me what my colors are hiding under there?” He nodded towards your bathrobe, a sliver of the bra showing against the fur collar. There was one of two ways this could’ve gone, either play into it or shy away. This was clearly an attempt from Logan to see how far you’d want to go with him, really a test for if this was accidental. Mutual pining after one another for so long burnt you both out, so if it kept going there would be no tell when it would stop. The power was now in your hands, there wasn’t much else you could play with. Putting on your best innocent eyes, you let the pretty little smile fall to your mouth, puffing your lower lip out slightly. “Dunno – you sure you can handle it?” Game on.

The sassy tone you let on with your question had Logan’s pants tightening, his breath coming out in sharp bursts as he tried to control himself. Having animalistic tendencies meant that anytime he was aroused, he needed to stake his claim. Show the world who you belong to, who his mate was. Even if you didn’t know, he did. He could smell it on you any time you went past him, or when you looked at him. In another life, in another world you were his – and he planned to make you his on Earth-10005 as well. Huffing out a disbelieving laugh, Logan snorted as he stopped in his tracks, pressing his back against the brick wall of one of the local pubs. “I can handle you, missy.” Logan hissed, letting his eyes go naturally wide to signify how serious he was. The low growl seeping up from his throat made your body shiver, made your fingers work slowly to undo the ties on your bathrobe. “Don’t get it twisted.”

You couldn’t help but snort to yourself as you heard Logan say that, never expecting the 200-year-old man to say something so modern. Laughing lowly as you stripped out of the bathrobe, you let a sliver of your chest show, how your robe fell off of your shoulder. Logan’s eyes narrowed in to watch you take it off, the silk falling behind you. All that he could see was the plush skin of your breasts hanging slightly over the cups, nothing more. A weak moan slipped past his parted lips as he watched, needing to shut his eyes for a moment so he wouldn’t cum in his pants. You knew you had Logan right where you wanted him, letting you take the control back of the situation. It made you feel powerful knowing he was so weak for you, even if it was for a short period of time. “Ew, Wade needs to stop teaching you catchphrases of the early 2010’s.” You weren’t a tease all the time, you could see Logan’s labored breathing through the call, could tell he needed a distraction.

Your remark was enough to make Logan open his eyes again, staring at you with a predatory glint in his eyes; The whites almost impossible to see. “Why are you changing the subject?” He panted, standing upright again as he pressed his covered back to the wall, cocking a brow in your direction. You weren’t prepared for Logan’s retort, thinking you may have the upper hand while he was aroused, yet he always managed to surprise you. Sucking your teeth, you shook your head in confusion, rolling your eyes away from his gaze. “Aw, is someone flustered?” He pouted, smiling with a hint of smugness. Your mouth falling open in a silent gasp made him chuckle, finding it quite adorable how you’re trying so hard. The burning across your face was a clear indication to you that Logan was getting under your skin, trying his hardest to truly break you. It wasn’t in a callous or mean way, but more to show you who you belonged to. Putting the phone closer to his face so you could see only him, he made sure he was loud and clear. “Don’t worry princess, I’ll be nice and gentle.”

“Fuck off, Howlett.” You laughed as you rolled your eyes, exposing your cleavage to the camera without realizing it, your cool slipping through your fingers. The dead giveaway of how he was affecting you came in the form of your camera shaking, your fingers betraying you as you tried to suck in a deep breath. Looking away from the camera didn’t help when Logan stared like he was going to eat you alive, devouring you with every glint his eyes gave. You had to admit it to yourself, your confidence reserve was running out, completely going dry the longer you sat and talked with Logan. If he didn’t act now, he was forever going to hold his peace. “I’d rather fuck you.” It flowed off his tongue so elegantly, never deterring his steps as he managed to walk again. At first you thought you may have misheard him but, you heard him loud and clear, perfect in fact.

The shock written across your face, mixed with desire caused Logan’s restraint to snap. He moved away from the bars entrance and instead kept straight, letting the cold November air nip at him a bit longer. For the first time in a long time, you were speechless. Mouth hanging open, brow creased with a mix of shock and anxiety, you were going through it within seconds, all because of dear Logan. The confidence, the bravado, the je ne sais quoi you have held on the up and up finally slipping. Revealing itself when the shy version of yourself you thought you buried. The submissive angel, Logan had you wrapped tightly around his hand, reminiscent of his old cage fighting wraps. “Eye-fucking can only get you so far, princess.” Logan knew you wouldn’t pull away now, you were putty in his hands. But he could have a little fun with you, and boy did he plan to. It was a sure thought that you weren’t as obvious as you may have thought when staring at Logan, silently begging him to fuck you. The whole time, he knew.

“You’ve known?” It was a silly question to ask but Logan wasn’t stupid. He’s been around for more than 200 years, he could see through stuff as it came through. He is also very well known for retorting back no but I do now, pretending to know a secret as a way to coax you into telling him. You had to make sure this wasn’t like that – or else you’d implode. Logan nodded at you as the lights started to dim around him, a gentle glow from afar lighting the edges of his face. He was still outside but away from the light pollution, an alleyway most likely. Propping his phone up on the closest discarded shelf near a door, he nodded as he pulled out his flask. “No shit I’ve known, you can thank Yukio for that one.” Yukio, your friend. There was no malicious feelings towards her for telling Logan, in fact she may have done you a favor. But it got you thinking, who else did she tell? Was it one giant secret that the whole group knew, hence why they tried to push you both together constantly? “She tells Wade everything.”

And there it was, the shot heard ‘round the world. It made sense that she told Wade, and Wade blabbed to Logan – Yukio would never face the conflict head-on, it went through a source. Releasing the breath you were unaware you were holding, you nodded into the open air as you sunk further against the bed, a bead of sweat gathering on your hairline. The back of your throat felt tight, dry, highly uncomfortable for your own liking. Trying to swallow was like trying to fit a watermelon into a wine bottle, impossible due to how high your blood pressure was. Now that the light pollution of the city wasn’t creating streaks of orange across his screen, he could fully take in your shocked state – seeing the tears gathering in the corner of your eyes. “What? You didn’t think I’d feel the same way?” Logan asked honestly, no longer keeping up the teasing. Seeing the distress on your face caused him to pull back, wanting you to tell him when it was good. He wasn’t going to push further; He didn’t want to ruin this.

The chord of your neck worked to string your words together, trying to find the best match to speak. Nothing felt, nor sounded right on your tongue; It drove you mad. “No, but I thought it was a fantasy more than anything.” You squeaked, coughing to bring some moisture back to your throat. Adjusting yourself on the floor, you brought the camera down a bit, pulling it further back for comfort – a typical position for you. Logan noticed though, how he could see you bright and clear as day, in your pale-yellow bra, that you had just for him. The slightly darker color of your nipple crept through the fabric, causing his pants to tighten, but he wouldn’t tease you further unless you felt better. “Can’t fantasies come true?” It was Logan’s last-ditch effort to ease the anxiety rising in your stomach. It helped, hearing him say that. It didn’t feel awkward anymore, it didn’t feel scary. It was beautiful, the start of something more.

“Are you sitting on the floor?” You pulled your camera back to pan it around yourself, showing off your little number as you sat, pulling your legs into a criss-crossed position. “Yeah, I got spooked off my bed thank you very much!” You stated with a smirk, showing how you were teasing. Logan liked how you said it, acting all sassy as you puffed out your bottom lip. It was cute, you looked precious to him. Everything about you made Logan feel alive, like his life was worth living instead of drowning it with the bottle. You made him want to be a better man, to settle down, start a family – anything you wanted he would give you even if you asked. That, is how much he loved you. “Flip your camera around.” He motioned, twirling his finger as he drank from his flask, groaning at the taste.

Obeying his command, you flipped your camera around as you showed him the mirror right in front of you. Waving cutely through it to him, you fluttered your legs as you sat, anticipation eating its way through you. Seeing the softness of your belly against your thong sent his mind spiraling, his eyes flickering to the fabric down further, hoping to God he could see your arousal. For a moment he took you in, how shy you were getting under his gaze. Hell, he could see the goosebumps forming themselves on your thighs, wanting to sink his teeth into the plushness of your flesh. Nudging his head towards you, his next command was on the tip of his tongue. “Spread your legs, c’mon.” The way it rolled out of his mouth like warm honey had your eyes wavering, threatening to roll back.

Slowly you began by uncrossing your legs, sticking your feet up absentmindedly towards the mirror, making sure to wiggle your toes under the stockings. It was a good tactic for teasing; Logan was living for your control. As your clothed claves hit the rug, you started to swing your legs open, letting each inch of the fabric rub against your soft legs. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, which didn’t go unnoticed by Logan, reveling in how responsive you are. “That’s it, good girl.” The fated words that made you lose yourself every time, fell out of Logan’s mouth so naturally. As he spoke that blissful name to you, finally your legs were fully open, able to see every little bit of you. It felt good, right to have his eyes on you. He wasn’t someone who could hide his emotions well nowadays, utterly losing it the longer he stayed with Wade. But in this moment you saw the true reserve on his face, the realization that even though he’s in some back bar’s alleyway, anyone could see him. The arousal coating his face, how his eyes focused harder to make out that tiny banana-yellow stain of your wetness on your panties, he was so lost in this moment. “Lean back, get comfortable. Eyes on me.”

“Yes, sir.” You nodded as you leaned back fully against the side of your bed. Reaching to your left, you grabbed at the tripod Nega got you for your birthday this year, shortening the neck of it to sit perfectly to your side. Shaky hands did not make for stable camera work. Something in the back of your mind said this would be the best thing for him; No shaky cam as he directed you, all hands free just for him, it was the perfect pick. Pushing your phone quickly into the top slot of the tripod, you placed your hands on the inside of your thighs, tickling the soft flesh as you awaited Logan’s next words. Beneath the lace, he could see your perky nipples pebbling at the mere instructions he was giving you – silently berating himself for not going over to your apartment and showing you why they call him an animal.

“You’re such a good listener. Don’t think, just do.” You weren’t even trying at this rate, you naturally fell into the submissive role so easily. A commanding personality like Logan always made you fold, obeying each word like it was spoken from God. It’s the reason it made you so special in the bedroom; It’s the reason Logan became obsessed with you. Seeing your submissive side slip through the cracks every now and again made him yearn, a man starved. He could have anyone and all he needed was you. “Listening so well for me.” It was what you could do well in this moment, even with the steady flow of blood pumping through your ears. The whooshing and thumping making it difficult to hear anything other than Logan; The current making room like Moses parted the Red Sea, only he shall walk on through. “Show me, sweetheart.” You felt like you were burning up, from the inside out. Cooking hotter by the words Logan was saying, not able to keep your cool anymore. The husk of his voice, mixed with the lucidness of the alcohol slipping around his tongue made you see stars. If it was possible, you’d cum just from his voice.

Antsy was a perfect descriptor of how you were feeling at the moment, suspense eating right through your chest as the insinuation in Logan’s voice. “Show you what, Lo?” Ah, yes. Your last semblance of control before Logan completely shit-stomped it. An irritated groan fell between Logan’s mouth as he slammed his hands against the wall, the shelving where you were propped up on shaking. His head dangled between his shoulders as he breathed heavily. “Show me how you touch yourself when you think of me.” That was the final straw, the endless teasing towards one another had finally broken. There would never be a way to go back from this, and you fucking thanked whatever or whoever was listening. Check fucking mate, Logan Howlett. That was all you needed to push forward.

You pulled at the side of your panties, swinging it onto the other side of your cunt as you opened your thighs up a bit more. The delicious stretch was aiding in the opening of your folds, letting the crisp air of your room lap through them. Logan drew his head up as he heard your silence, a painful growl slipping through his lips as he drew his brow together in pain. Nothing in this world could’ve prepared him for the sight he sees in front of him, the picture perfect gorgeousness, the thing he wanted tattooed on his brain. It was the purest form of Logan you could’ve possibly gotten; Veins of his neck bulging, eyes slanted so close to being closed, labored breathing like he ran a marathon. This was The Wolverine.

The sight on your phone made a fresh wave of your slick run out of your cunt, seeping onto the thin fabric between your cheeks. Using your first and forefinger to part yourself, you made sure to keeps your eyes on the mirror, eyeing the camera as you rubbed your pearly nub. The bead erect with arousal, begging to be touched. A simple flick of your finger across it had your entire lower half jolting. The sensation almost too much for your sensitive clit. Chewing on your bottom lip to help calm you down, slowly you began to make tentative circles with your first and middle finger, getting used to the sensation as your other hand slipped right under your bed to your secret box, one that no one would suspect.

Logan didn’t miss how you rubbed yourself so tenderly, loving yourself in the greatest way possible, while watching the perverse side of him come alive. He felt so naughty watching you masturbate, listening to his directions in the fucking alleyway. If he ran fast enough, he could be at your apartment before you made yourself orgasm, able to eat you out until you were crying for him to stop. No, this’ll do. He also didn’t miss how you reached frantically under your bed, eyes still on him as you grabbed a velvet bag. The purple glistened against the LED strips lights in your room, the multichrome coloring reflecting rainbows against your fingers. Quickly you worked the bag open, trying to grab at the first toy you could reach. Of course, it was not only the biggest dildo you had, but also happened to be yellow and blue. When Logan saw that, girth and all, he was roiling.

With how wet you were, you didn’t need lube to push your toy into you. Needy didn’t even touch upon how you felt. “Easy there baby, inch at a time. Ease it in, that’s it.” Logan cooed as you struggled to stretch around your toy, the burn already aiding in your arousal. Nodding at Logan’s words, you slowly inched the toy within your tight hole, never letting up on your clit to aid in the stretch. “L-Lo,” you moaned out quickly, eyes rolling back as your head lulled. If Logan was anything like this toy, you’d be unable to walk in the morning, you were hoping for that. “What, sweetheart? Feel too good?” Logan mewled as he gripped his tented cock through his pants, reveling in the harshness at which he was grabbing it. The bark he let out made your body shake, the thickest part of your dildo fully sheathed inside of you. “You deserve to feel this good honey, you’re the best girl.”

The praise was too much as you reached the base of the toy, your lower belly feeling so full of it. Carefully you pulled back on the toy, letting half of it out before you pushed it back in. The rigidness of the silicone rubbing against your spongy spot made you gasp, a throaty moan slipping into the night’s air, echoing throughout Logan’s headphones. “That’s my girl, nice and steady baby.” Logan had no idea what he was even saying anymore, or where he was going. All he knew was that his mouth was going and his feet were moving. Where they’d end up? He’d find out sooner or later. Palming himself as he steadily walked, Logan cut down the corner of the alley, making his way left. “Stretch that cunt out for me honey. I’ll fill you real soon.” Looking down at his screen all he could see was your blissed out face, the hearty stretch of your pussy around your toy, and the absolutely hot sight of your glistening body in his colors. “Just keep going, focus on my voice.”

Nodding at his words, you started to move the toy faster inside of you. The grip you had on the base helped it to conform to your cunt, filling in every ridge. Words escaped you in this moment, all you could do was focus on Logan’s face on your phone, watching how he never looked up at he walked, eyeing you like you were the World Series. Cresting behind your eyes was your orgasm, threatening to take you out with one swipe of your fingers. You couldn’t finish so soon, you wanted Logan to see exactly how it was for you. But there was no use, your arousal was so high, you were going to cum one way or another. The small squeak you let out caused Logan to stop in his tracks, glaring down at the phone will his full, undivided attention. “Look at the mirror baby, watch how sexy you are when you cum.” The breathy moan to which he released those words caused you to unleash the deepest groan you could muster, eyes blown out to nothing as you looked in the mirror.

Just like that, like the snap of your fingers, that string tethering you and Logan together snapped. Everything went white. Your ears rang as your throat became raw – yet no sound broke through. The sweetest coaxing could be heard miles away but yet it faded quickly. The world wasn’t spinning or moving for that matter. Instead, it was just staying still, letting you soak in this orgasmic bliss. Slowly the fog began to clear for you, your vision turning solid again as you watched the mirror. Heavy panting made up the sound coming back. The shaking of your body slowing down the longer you twirled the toy inside of you, rubbing your fingers deftly across your clit. Little by little, the blissful nature of your orgasm satiating that deep hunger looming in your chest. “That’s my good girl, making me so proud.” Logan’s tender voice cut through the staticky sound as your breathing steadiest itself. Licking your lips as you let your eyes wander around your room, you noticed that your tripod was a lot taller than you initially realized, almost looming over you as your fingers never stopped. Only that wasn’t your tripod, and that voice you heard was coming from directly beside you.

“Hi, princess,” Logan smirked into the mirror, meeting your gaze as you realized what was happening. It took a moment for it to register, wondering why he looked so much bigger now. Watching the figure of Logan reach between your legs in the mirror, it only clicked to you when you felt his grip close around the base of the dildo, pulling it out of you with cautionary ease. Shivering from the loss of girth within you, you snapped your head to the right as Logan caught your eyes. Smirking, he waved the wet dildo at you, chuckling as he threw it onto the bed. “H-Hey Logan,” you managed to let out, gulping down the pool of saliva in your bed. Nudging his chin behind you, Logan ran his calloused fingers over your chin, gripping your skin firmly. “Get on the bed.” It wasn’t an ask, it wasn’t a question. It was an order.

“Logan-“ you began, but were stopped when Logan grabbed at your throat, pushing against your pulse point with two fingers. The new sensation made your core clench around nothing, pulsating openly as you looked into Logan’s obsidian eyes, trying to make out what was going to happen. “Now.” Logan ordered, grabbing you by the neck and waist as he helped you up. Standing on wobbly knees was not a good idea, but damn it if it didn’t feel good. It took a moment to acclimate back into your body, Logan’s bodyweight kept you upright as you struggled. “Don’t make me tell you again, you won’t like that.” The threat made you want to break it, break him. Playing a brat for him would be a fun adventure, but the desperate nature of your arousal made you reconsider. Yet you were naturally doing it, and Logan was going to love punishing you later. “Very good girl.” Logan praised as you slowly sat back onto the bed, letting the silky material of the duvet caress your body.

How did he get in here? That was a question crossing your mind, nothing else but how. He wasn’t there all the time and you knew it, remembering that you were FaceTiming him. Narrowing your eyes in the direction of the bedroom door, you thankfully had a clear view to your front door, seeing that it was shut but – not quite perfect anymore. A smirk laid across your lips as you noticed the claw marks on the door, specifically around the doorknob, you assumed on both sides. Plus, the small splinter on top of his hand that he is currently picking out was enough tell for you. Logan had used his claws to unlock your door and get into your apartment. He was never going to the bar, this entire time he was walking to your apartment. It made sense now. This whole time he was coming to make you his. The revelation caused you to whimper out of pure love, no longer lust. Of course though, that didn’t last long. For what you saw next, shook you to your core.

Standing in between your legs was Logan fucking Howlett. The Wolverine. No longer did he wear his TVA jacket he was given earlier this year, but instead stood shirtless over you. The sweat on his body caused his chiseled physique to glisten in your room, his natural musk making your hornier by the second. His pants you had seen earlier of the same color scheme you are wearing, brushing wonderfully against your baren thighs. The reinforced nylon feeling like silk across your skin. Panning your eyes up to his hands, slowly Logan started to release his claws, inch by inch. A pained expression crossed across his mouth at the extension, but he fucking loved it. Why can I only see half of his face? As your eyes made their way upwards, no longer could you see his darkened eyes, instead replaced with something that shouldn’t have been considered hot. Across his eyes, around the top of his head was The Wolverine cowl, complete with, as Wade called them, blowjob handles. The animal himself, standing right between your legs.

You sunk back slowly on your elbows, stretching your legs open wider to fit all of him. Biting your lip, you looked up at Logan between your lashes, panting like a bitch in heat as you take him all in. “You want to see the real power yellow and blue really holds?” He growled, lightly tracing the dull edge of his claws against your sides. Yes, you do. Needless to say, this was the start of you wearing his colors, especially if this would happen every time.

----

Tagging: @livelaughl0ve3 @mehjustalasshere @allen-444 @begaytotallygay @tezooks @hughj1d @pinkanonwriting @craziersarah98 @actuallybridgetjones

[faithshouseofchaos]

Leaving it all behind— Max Verstappen x Reader

Word count — 30.k

Warnings — smut p in v, mentions of blood and death no one important. Angsty at times but other than that we have soft max.

also I don’t know why there’s funky symbols throughout my fic it wasn’t in the google doc. Also every thing in ** is supposed to be italics but I don’t have the patience to do that.

Beta read/edited by @octavikravecell218 @crispysoup318 @sinofwriting

Summary— Max's life had always been planned out for him—a life he wanted nothing to do with. One night, while driving through the city, he meets a woman who wants to make him feel alive and love, something he has never experienced before.

Tagging - @astraeaworld @ashy-kit @alwayzbeenale @67-angelofthelordme-67 @amatswimming @a-casual-romantic @bblouifford @badassturtle13 @bbtoni @barcelonaloverf1life e @charlesf1leclerc @charlesgirl16 @crashingwavesofeuphoria @dreamyreveriie @clowngirlsstuff @dark-night-sky-99 @dudenhaaa27 @eugene-emt-roe @embrosegraves @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @llando4norris @hangmandruigandmav @hollie911 @jeffs77 @ironcowboycopnickel @lipringlrh @lightdragonrayne @lollypop90907 @laura-naruto-fan1998 @moss-on-tmblr @natailiatulls07 @omgsuperstarg g @oconswrld @otako5811 @purplephantomwolf @scotlynaurora @toasttt11 @uluvjay @vellicora @venusisnothere @anedpev @thenerdysimp

Leaving it all behind ” max verstappen x reader 

The city lay dark and restless under the weight of the midnight clouds. Max’s car glided down the empty streets, headlights slicing through fog that clung to the sidewalks. This part of town was his a

city carved out by generations of his family, each building tainted by their legacy. A legacy Max had always known would eventually fall on his shoulders.

He sighed, letting his hand fall from the steering wheel to drum absently on the gearshift. Nights like these always felt endless, each familiar street drawing him deeper into a life he was starting to question. He’d been told countless times it was his birthright, his duty to keep things running, but in moments like this just him and the hum of the engine he couldn’t help but wonder if this life was all he’d ever have.

That was when he saw her.

At first, it was just movement in the shadows, a sudden scuffle that drew his eye. A young woman struggled against two men, their laughter drifting cruelly into the night air. Before he could think, he’d pulled over, instincts taking over as he slid out of the car. His footsteps were silent, his expression deadly calm as he approached.

“Let her go,” he ordered, his voice cold enough to cut through the fog.

The two men turned, eyes widening as they recognized him, and the fear in their faces was unmistakable. Max had built a reputation; even in the dark underbelly of the city, his name held weight. They stumbled back, mumbling apologies before disappearing down the street, leaving him alone with the girl.

She looked up, breathing hard, her face partially hidden beneath strands of dark hair. Even under the streetlamp’s dim glow, he could see the defiance in her eyes she wasn’t the type to easily back down. A part of him admired that.

“You alright?” he asked, softer now, watching her carefully.

She nodded, brushing herself off, her gaze wary but grateful. “Yeah I didn’t need saving, though,” she said, a spark of pride in her voice.

A small smile tugged at his lips. “I could tell,” he replied, “but sometimes it’s nice to have backup.”

She huffed a quiet laugh, eyes flickering up to meet him. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the silence was charged and unexpected.

“Thank you,” she murmured finally, her voice losing some of its edge. “I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t come along.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I rescued you from danger,” Max said with a playful grin, trying to lighten the mood. He leaned against the rough bark of a nearby tree, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Y/n regarded him with an arched eyebrow, her skepticism palpable. The remnants of adrenaline still coursed through her veins, but mixed with a tinge of fear, she felt a knot tighten in her stomach. Max’s charm was disarming, but she couldn’t shake the unease she felt in his presence.

“Yeah, thank you for that, but I need to go,” she replied, her voice steady despite the fluttering nerves. She turned away, glancing over her shoulder to gauge his reaction. The last thing she wanted was to be caught in another unexpected situation. The weight of the moment hung between them, and with each step she took, she felt the distance growing a mix of gratitude and caution urging her to leave before she got too drawn in.

Max only nodded, watching as she turned to go. He didn’t ask her name, but something in him twisted as he watched her walk away, that fierce determination etched on her face. She was like no one he’d met before. And he wanted to know more.

Over the next few days, she lingered in his mind like a melody he couldn’t shake. He knew he shouldn’t indulge this curiosity, shouldn’t look into her life, but he couldn’t resist. He had people at his disposal, and soon he had her name, her address, and details of her life that made his heart ache in ways he didn’t understand.

When he learned she worked at a little bookstore downtown, he couldn’t keep himself from stopping by one afternoon. He wandered in, pretending to browse the shelves, until he saw her head bent over a book, a faint smile on her lips.

She looked up, and surprise flickered in her eyes before recognition dawned. She stood, her hand brushing against a stray lock of hair as she offered him a tentative smile.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” she said, her voice soft but curious.

Max shrugged, feeling suddenly out of place. He’d been to every luxurious spot in the city, but this small, cozy shop felt like another world. “Just passing by,” he said, though they both knew it was a lie.

They fell into an easy conversation, discussing books, the city, and life. And as the sun began to set, Max felt something foreign and unfamiliar start to build in his chest a longing that made him question everything he thought he wanted.

Weeks passed, and their paths continued to cross until friendship gave way to something deeper. With every conversation, every laugh, every quiet moment they shared, Max found himself wondering if he could leave everything behind. If she could be enough to pull him out of the shadows.

But he knew the cost of that decision. Leaving his family’s empire wasn’t simple; there were loyalties, enemies, and countless secrets that held him captive. Still, when he looked at her—when he thought of a life beyond the city’s corruption and bloodshed—he realized he wanted something different. Something he could only have if he let it all go.

As he stood outside her bookstore one evening, watching the light from within spill across the pavement, he made a silent promise: he would find a way to be with her. Even if it meant sacrificing everything he’d ever known.

Max leaned against the wall, his eyes fixed on the warm glow coming from the bookstore’s windows. It was late, and the street was quiet. Inside, she was closing up a routine that had become as familiar to him as his reflection.

He shoved his hands in his jacket, watching as she tidied the display, her movements slow, practiced. Even after weeks of meeting almost every day, she had this effect on him. Every little thing about her held his attention and captured his heart as if it belonged to her.

The lights in the shop went out, and a few moments later, she stepped out. She started when she saw him, a hand on her heart as she let out a soft gasp. “Did you just stand there the entire time?”

Max shrugged, pushing off the wall as he took a step closer to her. He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Just enjoying the view.”

She rolled her eyes but there was a hint of a smile on her lips. “You need a better hobby.”

He chuckled, falling in step next to her as they began walking. “You’re my hobby,” he teased.

She shot him a look, the kind that was meant to be disapproving but couldn’t quite hide her amusement. “You’re ridiculous.”

Max just smirked, his gaze flicking down to her hand, to the slender fingers that were curled loosely at her side. He ached to reach out, to take her hand in his. But there was something in him—maybe it was the loyalty to the life he’d inherited, or maybe it was fear—that made him hesitate.

They walked in silence for a few more minutes, the streetlights casting long shadows around them.

“Hey,” Max said suddenly, his voice cutting through the quiet.

She looked over at him, her eyebrows raised in question.

“Can I ask you something?”

She nodded, her expression curious.

Max took a deep breath, bracing himself. “Do you think it’s possible to change? To make your path, even when you come from a life that feels...predetermined?”

Her expression softened, her gaze searching his face. “I think it depends,” she said slowly. “On how badly you want it, how willing you are to fight and maybe even lose things along the way.”

Max nodded, her words echoing in his mind, both confirming and intensifying his doubts. Losing things...he’d be losing a lot by choosing a different life”his family’s legacy, their empire, his father’s trust. But even the thought of losing *her* felt unbearable.

“So what if you’re not sure?” he found himself asking. “What if you have feelings you don’t quite understand, but you know they want…more?”

She regarded him silently, her eyes steady, her expression unreadable. For a moment, Max wondered if he’d said too much, or revealed too much. But then she looked away, a sigh escaping her lips. “Then I’d say you’re either being brave…or foolish,” she said finally, her gaze returning to his. “Because love can make you do both.”

Max swallowed, the word *love* hanging heavily between them. Was that what this was, this intense feeling that seemed to consume him every time he was near her? But loving her was like lighting a match in a powder keg. Could he set everything on fire for her?

As the weeks passed, Max became a regular at the bookstore, his visits blending seamlessly into Y/N’s day. They’d fall into easy conversations, and she’d tease him about his “terrible taste” in books, which he took with a grin, never revealing that he’d never really read much for pleasure before he met her. The darkness of his past and his family’s world seemed to fade in those quiet hours, and for the first time in his life, Max felt something close to peace.

The bookstore was a sanctuary. Away from the constant scrutiny, the threats, and the weight of his family’s name. He could just be himself here, free to laugh and chat and listen to her it was her favorite place to be.

Max leaned against the counter, his gaze fixed on Y/N as she moved between the shelves. There was a peacefulness to her rhythm, and he couldn’t help but feel a little mesmerized. The way Y/N’s fingers brushed over each book’s spine, her expression relaxed, made it look like they belonged here among the pages and stories.

“So,” he said, his voice barely louder than a murmur, “do you ever get tired of organizing these shelves over and over?”

Y/N chuckled softly without turning around. “Not when I have someone to complain to about it.”

Max grinned, feeling a spark of warmth that was rare for him. “Lucky me, huh?”

They both paused, letting the silence and the music fill the space between them. It was a shared comfort, a feeling that went beyond words. Here, in the stillness of the bookstore, Max almost felt as though they were the only two people in the world. Y/N finished sliding a book into place and turned, leaning against the shelf, her eyes meeting Max’s. “You don’t have to stay, you know. Not much entertainment here.”

Max smirked, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the counter. “Depends on what you consider entertainment. Watching you argue with those books as they move themselves? Riveting.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but Max caught the small, amused smile that slipped through. “Keep talking, and I’ll make you help. Alphabetize the romance section, maybe. Heard you’re a sucker for a good love story.”

He scoffed. “I think you’re confusing me with someone who has a heart.”

Y/N shook her head, the faint sound of JoJo filling the quiet again. She walked closer, books forgotten for a moment, until they were just a step away from him. “Yeah? Then what are you doing here?”

Max felt a tug in his chest he couldn’t quite ignore, his usual smirk softening. “Good question,” he murmured, more to himself than to them.

The air between them was thick with unsaid things. Neither of them spoke for a moment, letting the music and the shadows hold whatever words they weren’t ready to say. Finally, Max cleared his throat, shrugging in that casual, detached way he’d perfected. “Guess I’m just a sucker for bookstores. Quiet. No one is bothering you. Kind of place you can just be.”

Y/N’s expression softened, her eyes searching his face as if she saw through every layer he tried to keep up. “Then you’re in good company.”

Max’s gaze lingered on Y/N, watching the way her face softened in the dim light. He wasn’t used to this, the quiet moments that seemed to slip under his skin, settling somewhere he couldn’t shake off.

Y/N tilted her head, a teasing glint in her eyes. “So, what’s the verdict? Am I decent company for a night at the bookstore?”

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “I guess you’ll do. I’d say you’re good enough to pass the time, but then your ego might get out of control.”

“Oh, please,” Y/N shot back, raising an eyebrow. “Your standards aren’t that high. I saw you trying not to laugh at my jokes last week.”

Max scoffed, pretending to be offended, but a small smile betrayed him. “I wasn’t laughing. I was horrified. Pure survival instinct.”

They both laughed quietly, the sound warm and intimate in the empty store. The music faded into another soft, slow song, and they let the silence settle over them again, neither one in a hurry to break it.

Y/N spoke first, a little softer now. “Have you ever thought about it? Starting over somewhere? Just… a different life?”

Max’s usual mask faltered for a second, something unreadable flashing in his eyes. He looked away, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Starting over, huh?” He let out a humorless laugh. “I think that ship sailed a long time ago for me.”

Y/N stepped a little closer, their voice gentle but insistent. “Maybe. But you never know.” She paused, searching his face. “I just think you don’t have to be the person you’ve always been, Max.”

He swallowed, caught off guard by the honesty in their words. It was strange, unsettling even, having someone look at him like he was worth more than the pieces he kept hidden. For a moment, he wanted to believe them.

“Well,” he said, forcing a small smirk, “maybe I like the person I am.”

“Maybe.” Y/N shrugged, giving him a soft smile. “But I think there’s more to you than you let on.”

She held his gaze, and for once, Max found himself at a loss for words. Instead, he looked down, shaking his head slightly, but he couldn’t keep the hint of a smile from tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Max’s heartbeat was a little faster, his usual bravado slipping away under the weight of Y/N’s gaze. He could feel them watching him, and for once, he didn’t feel the need to hide.

“Careful,” he murmured, his voice almost a whisper. “You keep looking at me like that, and I might start thinking you’re interested.”

Y/N’s lips quirked into a small, knowing smile. “Maybe I am. Maybe I’m waiting for you to figure that out.”

Max’s throat tightened, the words lingering between them like a challenge, daring him to take a step he wasn’t sure he was ready for. He wanted to say something, anything that could brush off the tension, but the usual defenses weren’t coming to his rescue. Instead, he just looked at them, his eyes searching for hers, caught between the urge to run and the impulse to stay.

“You think you’ve got me all figured out, huh?” he finally managed, his voice rougher than he intended.

Y/N shook her head, her smile softening. “Not all of you. Just enough to know there’s more to you than you let people see.” She reached out, her fingers brushing his arm for just a second before she pulled back, the touch brief but enough to send a spark up his spine.

Max inhaled, barely holding himself together. The gentle, honest look in Y/N’s eyes left him raw, and vulnerable, and he found himself wanting to let go, just a little. “So, if there’s more to me,” he said slowly, “why stick around? Don’t you have better things to do than try to figure out a guy like me?”

Y/N shrugged, her voice soft. “Maybe I don’t mind a mystery. Maybe I want to see what happens if you let your guard down.”

Max’s pulse pounded in his ears, his gaze locked on theirs. For the first time in a long time, he felt like the ground was shifting beneath him, the walls he’d built starting to crumble. He swallowed, his voice barely a whisper. “You might not like what you find.”

Y/N just looked at him, their expression open, unafraid. “Try me.”

The words hung in the air, daring him, pulling him toward something he wasn’t sure he was ready to face. But standing there in the quiet of the bookstore, with nothing but the soft music and their steady gaze, he realized he wanted to try.

Max’s life had always been carefully compartmentalized”business was business, and the rare moments of personal life he allowed himself were kept far from the eyes of his family. But over time, his “disappearances” to see Y/N hadn’t gone unnoticed.

One afternoon, Jos sat in his leather chair at the head of their estate’s grand dining room. Marco stood nearby, observing him closely. He was loyal to Jos, fiercely so, and he’d known Max since he was a boy. But loyalty to the family meant loyalty to its survival”and Max was threatening that with his wandering.

Marco cleared his throat, his voice steady. “I’m starting to think Max’s time away isn’t just business, Jos. He’s distracted.”

Jos looked up slowly, his gaze piercing, as if calculating what Marco wasn’t saying. “Explain.”

Marco shifted, choosing his words carefully. “It’s a girl. A nobody who works in some bookstore downtown. He’s spending time with her. A lot of time.”

A silence fell over the room as Jos leaned back, fingers steepled. A faint smirk crossed his face, though his eyes remained cold. “A girl, you say?” He sounded almost amused, but there was a dangerous undercurrent in his tone. “Max has always been soft-hearted. I warned him about that. But this attachment could be problematic.”

Marco nodded, his voice darkening. “He’s slipping, Jos. Losing focus. And if he thinks he can just walk away for her” He didn’t finish the thought, but they both knew what happened to those who tried to leave.

Jos’ gaze darkened, his fingers tapping against the armrest as he considered the implications. He’d built his empire on ruthless loyalty, on men who would die for the family without question. But his son was becoming a liability a weakness that could be exploited by their enemies.

“We need to remind Max of his responsibilities,” Jos said quietly, his voice laced with cold authority. “This… bookstore girl has become a distraction. Make sure he understands that she could be more than just a distraction—she’s a threat to him.”

Marco inclined his head, understanding the unspoken command. They couldn’t afford loose ends. If Max couldn’t be swayed, the girl would have to go. Marco left the room, a faint grimace on his face. He’d always respected Max, but he’d be damned if he let anyone ruin everything they’d built.

It started with a quiet warning. One night, as he slipped into the back office of his family’s club, one of his father’s oldest lieutenants, Marco, was waiting for him. Marco was a man with eyes as cold as winter and a voice like gravel. He eyed Max for a long moment, his face unreadable.

“Word around is you’ve been spending a lot of time away,” Marco said, his tone almost casual, though there was a hard edge beneath it.

Max didn’t flinch, keeping his expression carefully blank. “And?”

“And,” Marco continued, stepping closer, “you’ve got responsibilities, Max. The family isn’t just a part-time job. Your father knew that. I hope you haven’t forgotten.”

Max clenched his jaw, but he forced himself to stay calm. “I haven’t forgotten. I just… I’m handling things in my way.”

Marco’s gaze was heavy. “Your way better be the right way. People are noticing. They’re questioning your loyalty.”

Max stifled a growl, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. Of course, people were noticing. Word got around fast in the family, and Max knew better than anyone that loyalty was their currency. He was walking a fine line, trying to juggle two worlds that didn’t seem to mix.

“My loyalty isn’t in question,” he ground out, holding Marco’s gaze. “I know where my responsibilities lie.” 

Marco looked unconvinced, but he didn’t press any further. He simply nodded an ominous gesture that echoed through the office. As the door closed behind Marco, leaving Max alone, he let out a weary sigh. He was tired of the constant tests, the suspicion, the threats. It was never-ending, a constant game of proving himself worthy. His entire life had been shaped by this role, groomed and molded to be the perfect successor.

But now…now he was questioning it all. For the first time, he was considering walking away from everything, from the life that his father had set out for him. All because of *her*.

Max slumped into the chair behind the desk, rubbing a hand over his face. He knew he was playing a dangerous game. His father had never tolerated disobedience, especially from him. He'd always expected obedience above all else, and Max's deviation from that path would not be lightly tolerated. 

Max’s thoughts drifted to *her.* He'd spent every waking moment with her, drowning in the bliss of her company. But each moment had only heightened his desire for something more than what he already had. Something real. Authentic.

He leaned back, closing his eyes. He could hear her voice, her laugh, her soft sighs. He could almost feel her skin under his fingers, the way she fit so perfectly against him. But he couldn’t have her, not in the way he truly wanted. Not unless he was willing to give everything else up. 

The thought sent a pang of regret through him. His family, his legacy, his entire life it was all built on bloodshed and secrets. Was he ready to turn his back on it all?

He opened his eyes, looking at the room around him. The room his father had spent countless hours in, strategizing, planning, and ruling an empire built on violence and fear. Was this the life he wanted to live? Was this the life he wanted her to be a part of?

He knew the answer. The knowledge sat heavily in his chest, squeezing the air from his lungs. He was teetering on the edge of a decision that would change everything, a decision that would mean leaving one life behind for another.

He thought back to their time together, the stolen moments in the bookstore, the whispered secrets in shadowed corners. Every moment had deepened his feelings for her. He’d been trying to fight them, to ignore them, but it was a useless battle. 

He was in love with her. Deeply, completely, irrevocably in love. The realization made him sit upright in the chair, his heart pounding in his chest. He’d been denying it, fighting it, but the truth was there. He loved her. He wanted a life with her. A real life. A life without secrets, without violence. 

He knew it was a pipe dream, a foolish, impossible dream. But he found himself grasping for it anyway, holding onto the idea like a drowning man grasping for a lifeline.

“This is crazy,” he murmured to himself, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “This is insane.”

He stood up, pacing the room in an attempt to clear his head. But his mind was a storm, thoughts churning together in a confusing mess.

There was no future for them. No world where his family, and his role in the organization, would allow him to be with her. And yet, he couldn’t let her go, couldn’t turn his feelings off like a switch. He could almost hear his father's voice in his mind, a harsh whisper in the back of his head. *You belong to this family. You're not here to make your own choices, Max.*

He closed his eyes again, trying to drown out the voice. But the words only echoed louder in his mind, a constant reminder of the life he was supposed to lead, the life he'd been groomed for.

And yet, amidst the chaos, one thought rang louder than the rest — a thought that both filled him with hope and made him feel like a traitor to everything he knew:

*She’s more important.*

Max leaned on the desk, taking deep breaths, trying to calm the maelstrom of emotions. It was a foolish thought, a dangerous thought. And yet, it was a thought that he couldn’t shake off, a thought that had taken root in his heart and refused to let go. He couldn't have both worlds. That much was clear. He couldn't be a part of the family *and* be free to be with her. He couldn't be the man his father wanted *and* the man she needed. He had to make a choice. 

And the choice, no matter how foolish, was already made. For her, he would be willing to give up everything. For her, he was willing to risk it all.

The next time he saw Y/N, she noticed the tension right away. They were sitting at a small cafe she loved, nestled away from the bustle of the city. She studied him quietly over her coffee, brow furrowed in concern.

“You seem different today,” she said gently, her voice breaking through his troubled thoughts.

Max forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Just a rough day, that’s all.”

She watched him carefully, not pushing for more but not letting it go either. After a moment, she reached across the table, placing her hand over his. The warmth of her touch steadied him, grounding him in a way he hadn’t felt in years.

“You know,” she said softly, “you can tell me anything. I don’t know much about you, but I know you’re not just the quiet guy who hangs around bookstores. You don’t have to hide.”

Her words pierced him, and he felt an ache deep in his chest. He wanted to tell her everything—the blood, the secrets, the things he’d done to keep his family’s empire running. But how could he? How could he shatter the perfect image she saw in him and risk losing the only good thing he’d ever had?

“I know,” he said quietly, his fingers tightening around hers. “Maybe one day, I’ll tell you. But not yet.”

He watched the confusion flicker in her eyes. He could see the wheels turning in her mind, trying to piece together the pieces he was giving her. 

She was perceptive and smart, and it killed him that he couldn’t be honest with her. 

The silence between them stretched, heavy with the things he wasn’t saying. He wanted to pour it all out, to share the weight of his secrets and the burden of his role, but for now, the words stuck in his throat. He shifted, his gaze dropping to their hands, intertwined on the table. The contrast between them was stark hers, soft and unmarred, his, calloused and marked with tiny scars, the souvenirs of fights and battles she knew nothing about.

He turned his hand, his fingers tracing the lines on his skin, the ridges that spoke of life so separate from hers that the mere thought of bridging the gap felt like a fantasy. She must have seen his gaze, the way his eyes followed the tracks of his past. She traced her fingers over his knuckles, light and tender, like a whisper over his scars.

“Does it hurt?” she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

*Yes*, he wanted to shout, *It hurts like hell.*

Instead, he just shook his head, offering her another half-smile. “Just old wounds,” he replied, his voice gruff. The look in her eyes told him she didn’t believe him, but she didn’t press the issue. She just continued tracing her fingers over his skin, her touch a soft, soothing comfort he didn’t deserve.

He fought the urge to lean into her touch, to let the warmth wash over him and make him forget everything else. But reality loomed over them, a dark cloud on a sunny afternoon. She moved her hand, picking up her coffee again and taking a sip. He missed the contact immediately, the absence of her touch like a cold knife in his side.

“Max,” she said finally, her eyes searching his face, “promise me one thing.”

He knew what was coming. The question he dreaded and longed for all at once.  He met her gaze, bracing himself. ‘What?” he managed to say.

She took a deep breath, the next word leaving her lips in a rush. “Don’t keep shutting me out. I don’t know what’s going on with you, or why you won’t tell me anything. But we’re…we’re friends, aren’t we?”

The word hit him like a punch to the gut. ‘Friends’. It was such a small word, but it felt so huge, loaded with all the things he wanted and everything he couldn’t have. He nodded, his heart clenching uncomfortably. “We’re friends, yes,” he said softly, his voice hoarse.

She smiled at his answer, that small, hopeful smile that sent his heart into somersaults. He swallowed hard, pushing down the maelstrom of emotions that threatened to spill out.

She didn't need to know what he was capable of. She didn’t need to know the darkness that lurked in the shadows of his world.

 They finished their coffee in relative silence. He felt the weight of her unasked questions hanging in the air. Questions he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, answer. He watched her, trying to memorize every feature, every gesture, every expression. As if he was trying to imprint her into his memory, a moment of light in the dark of his existence.

When they stood to leave, he reached out, almost without thinking, to help adjust her scarf. His fingers grazed the skin on her collar, a small, almost electric contact. She looked up at him, a question in her eyes, and he quickly withdrew his touch.

“Don't want you to catch a cold,” he mumbled, his voice gruff, avoiding her gaze. She didn’t comment on his quick retreat, just smiled, a soft, knowing smile. “Thanks, Max,” she said, her voice almost a whisper.

They made their way out of the cafe, the crisp fall air biting as they stepped onto the sidewalk. He took a deep breath, trying to fill his lungs with something other than the scent of her perfume. As they stood there, on the cusp of parting ways, he had to fight the urge to just pull her into his arms, to hold her tightly, and never let go. But he couldn’t, not here, not now. So he just stuffed his hands in his pockets, trying to conceal his clenched fists.

“See you later?” she asked, her voice soft, hopeful.

“Yeah,” he managed to say, his voice rougher than he wanted it to be. “Later.”

He watched her walk away, her figure getting smaller in the distance. As she turned a corner and disappeared, he let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. The walk back to his car was a blur. His mind was in turmoil, a mess of thoughts and feelings he couldn't sort through. All of them, somehow, involved her.

When he finally reached his car, he leaned against the door, taking a moment to collect himself. *This is insane*, he thought, *I can't keep doing this*.

But even as the thought formed in his mind, he knew it was useless. He was in too deep. The pull of her was too strong. There was no turning back, not while her smile and laugh continued to haunt his every waking moment.

He climbed into the car, starting the engine with a sigh. As he pulled out of the parking spot, he knew he was driving straight towards a decision he would likely come to regret.

The next day, Max returned to his family’s estate, the weight of his decision settling heavily on his shoulders. He walked through the ornate halls he’d grown up in, feeling a strange sense of detachment as he entered his father’s office. Jos sat behind his desk, Marco at his side, both of them staring watching him with expressions of silent judgment.

“Max,” Jos greeted, his voice deceptively calm. “I hear you’ve been… busy.”

Max didn’t flinch, his gaze hard and unyielding. “I know you’ve been watching me.”

Joe's smirk didn’t reach his eyes. “Of course we have. You’re a valuable part of this family, Max. It’s only natural we keep an eye on where your loyalties lie.”

“My loyalties,” Max said, his voice steady, “are to my own life. I want out.”

Marco’s face twisted in contempt, and Jos’ expression grew darker. “You think you can just walk away?” Jos said quietly. “That girl of yours—she’s a liability, Max. You can’t just abandon everything we’ve built for a stranger.”

“She’s not a stranger,” Max said sharply, his voice filled with a fierce determination. “She’s the only real thing in my life. And I’m done living in a cage, following orders, hurting people for you.”

A tense silence settled over the room, thick with the threat of violence. Jos’s face twisted in anger, his hands clenching the edge of the desk. “You’re my son,” he hissed. “You carry my legacy. If you betray this family, you’ll be the one living in fear.”

Max took a steady breath, his heart pounding. “I don’t care. I’ll protect her from anything you try, and if you hurt her, I’ll make sure it’s the last mistake you ever make.”

Jos’ gaze darkened, but there was a flicker of hesitation. For the first time, Max saw a glint of fear in his father’s eyes—a realization that he could lose the one person who understood their empire best.

The room was a tableau of tension, a stand-off between father and son, both at an impasse.

Max’s heart was hammering against his ribcage, but he stood his ground, facing down his father’s silent glare.

Marco shifted, his muscles tense, ready to attack at a moment’s notice. But a subtle shake of Jos’ head kept him in place, holding him back.

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air, the quiet punctuated only by the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner.

Jos stood slowly, his eyes never leaving Max. He moved with the quiet precision of a hunter preparing to strike. He walked around the desk, his footsteps echoing in the room.

Max remained motionless, meeting his father’s glare with a defiant one of his own. As Jos approached, Max could hardly draw a steady breath. He could feel the danger in the air, like the electric charge before a storm. When his father stopped in front of him, they were mere inches apart, the air heavy with tension.

“You’d betray us?” Jos whispered, the threat barely contained beneath the surface. A flicker of anger passed over Max’s face. He knew what his father was asking. *Would you betray us for a woman you barely know?*

“Yes.” The word came out firm, without a trace of doubt. Max didn’t hesitate, he didn’t waver. He stood his ground, staring into his father’s eyes without flinching.

There was a note of disbelief in his father’s voice, as if he couldn’t fathom the idea of Max choosing a person over the empire he’d helped build.

Max didn’t back down. He met his father’s gaze squarely, his answer clear in his eyes. “Yes. For her.”

But Max didn’t wait for his father’s response. He turned on his heel, his decision made. He would leave, taking Y/N and disappearing from this life. But he knew they wouldn’t stop coming. He’d have to stay ahead, always watching over his shoulder, always ready to fight.

As he stepped outside, the weight of his choice pressed heavily on him. He knew he was stepping into a storm, but he’d finally found something worth fighting for and nothing, not even his father’s wrath, would stop him now.

Max took a deep breath, the cold air biting into his lungs. He’d made his choice. He’d taken the first step towards something he’d never dared to dream of. 

It was a dangerous, foolish, insane choice.

*And he loved every second of it.*

His thoughts turned to y/n. He could picture her, her soft smile, her laughter, her eyes that seemed to see right through him. The thought of her fueled him and gave him purpose. He had to protect her, above all else.

But as he walked towards his car, the shadows of his past seemed to cast long, ominous shadows over his path. He knew his father and Marco wouldn’t let him go so easily. He had to be ready. He had to prepare. *He had to make sure she was safe.*

He climbed into his car, determination burning hot in his veins. He started the engine, the roar of it a steady, reassuring presence.

As he pulled out of the estate, he didn’t look back.  There was no going back now. He drove through the city streets, his mind working in overdrive. He had to devise a plan, a way to disappear without a trace. But more importantly, he had to keep y/n safe. He couldn’t let her get caught in the crossfire.

He gripped the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles turning white. There was no room for mistakes and no margin for error. The sun was beginning to dip beneath the horizon, casting the city in a warm, golden glow. But there was no beauty in it, no joy in the sight. For Max, every shadow seemed a potential threat, every corner a place to hide.

He knew his father and Marco could be watching. They might be tracking his every move, or they could be waiting for him at his apartment, ready to ambush him. He made a few detours, taking roundabout routes to throw off anyone who might be following him. His adrenaline was pumping, making him hyper-aware of every passing vehicle, every pedestrian on the sidewalk.

When he finally pulled up to y/n’s apartment building, he sat in the car for a few moments, surveying the area.

The street was mostly quiet, with nothing but a few passersby and a couple of cars parked on the street. He didn’t see anything suspicious, but that didn’t relax him. He knew his father had eyes everywhere, and they could be watching from anywhere, anyone. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He had to play it cool, not alarm Y/N. She couldn’t know the danger she was in, not yet. He would tell her, but he had to make sure she was safe first.

With one last look around, he got out of the car and headed towards her apartment. With each step, his heart thumped louder against his ribcage, like a drum announcing his arrival. He reached her door, hesitating for a moment. Then he knocked, three sharp raps followed by a pause.

The seconds ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity as he waited for the door to open. Finally, he heard the sound of footsteps approaching, and the door swung open.

There she stood, beautiful and blissfully unaware of the danger looming just beyond her threshold.

Her face lit up when she saw him, a bright, beautiful smile spreading across her features. “Max, hi,” she greeted him, her voice filled with warmth.

For a moment, he was just lost in her, her presence bringing a soothing calm to his tumultuous mind. But it lasted only a moment. He had to remember why he was there, and what he needed to do.

“Can I come in?” he asked, his voice gruff. He could see the flicker of surprise in her eyes, but she nodded, stepping aside to let him enter. He followed her into the apartment, his eyes scanning the room. It was a cozy place, filled with little touches of her; a vase of fresh flowers, a few books piled on the coffee table, and a picture of her with her family on the mantelpiece.

But he didn’t have much time to take it all in. He turned, facing her, his expression serious. She closed the door, leaning against it as she watched him. “Everything okay?” she asked, that note of concern in her voice. 

He let out a shaky breath. “We need to talk.”

She studied his face, probably noticing the tension and the anxiety written across it. But she simply smiled, gesturing towards the living room. “Okay, let's go sit down then.”

He nodded, following her into the living room and sitting down on the couch. She sat next to him, turning to face him. There was more concern on her face now, but she remained silent, waiting for him to speak.

He stared at his hands, now clenched tightly in his lap. The words were stuck in his throat, refusing to come out. *How do you tell someone their life is in danger because of you?*

He took another shaky breath, lifting his gaze to meet hers. Her eyes were filled with worry now, but there was no suspicion yet. She didn’t know what he was about to say.

Finally, he found his voice. “You trust me, right?”

She was taken aback by the question, but she nodded immediately. “Of course I do,” she said, her voice firm, certain.

He was relieved and terrified by her response. He didn’t deserve her trust, not with the life he lived. But he also knew he could use it, weaponize it to protect her.

He reached out, taking her hand in his. Her skin was soft, her fingers delicate against his palm. It took everything he had to stop himself from squeezing too hard, to avoid revealing the fear and desperation raging inside him.

He took another deep breath, gathering his words. “There’s something I need to tell you. And you have to promise you’ll hear me out, no matter how it sounds.”

There was a flicker of doubt in her eyes, but she squeezed his hand, reassuring him. “Okay,” she said, her voice calm, steady. “I’m listening.”

“I need you to pack a bag with only the essentials,” Max says. Her eyes widened, confusion clouding her features. “What?” she asked, her voice shaking slightly. “What’s going on, Max?”

He squeezed her hand again, holding her gaze. “I’ll explain. Just please, pack a bag. Now.”

She was uneasy, but she nodded, reluctantly slipping her hand from his grip. “Okay,” she said quietly. “I’ll go pack.”

He watched as she stood and walked towards the bedroom, her steps slow, almost reluctant. Once she disappeared from view, he let out a low curse. This was harder than he’d imagined.

The minutes ticked by excruciatingly slowly, the silence in the room like a physical presence. He couldn’t make himself sit still, he had to keep moving, keep his mind busy. He walked around the living room, his eyes constantly flicking towards the bedroom door. *What was taking her so long?*

Just when he was about to go check on her, she reappeared, a duffel bag slung over her shoulder. Her face was carefully blank, a stark contrast to the emotions he could see swirling in her eyes.

“Got everything?” he asked, doing his best to keep his voice steady. She nodded wordlessly, her fingers clenching the strap of the bag. He could see the hundred questions in her eyes, but she didn’t voice them. *Not yet.*

“Come on,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “We need to go.”

She nodded again, following him as he turned towards the front door. She paused at the threshold, her eyes taking in the room one last time. It was clear the realization was setting in, the reality of what was happening. But she didn’t ask any questions.

As they walked out of the apartment, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. This was all his fault. If he hadn’t involved her in his life, she’d still be safe and comfortable in her home. But he couldn’t change the past, he could only try to protect her in the present.

He led her to his car, opening the passenger door for her. She climbed in, buckling her seatbelt silently. As he closed the door, he caught a glimpse of her face through the window. 

Her expression was solemn, her eyes wide and troubled. But there was no fear, no anger. Just a quiet, steady trust that both reassured and scared him.

He walked around the car, getting in the driver's seat. As he turned on the engine, he glanced over at her. “You’re quiet.” 

She looked over at him then, her eyes meeting his. “I’m scared,” she admitted in a soft voice. 

Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. He’d known she was scared, but hearing her say it out loud somehow made it more real, more urgent.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm. “I know.” 

He reached over, taking her hand in his again. “But I’m here. I’m going to protect you.”

For a moment, she simply held his gaze. Then she nodded, a determined look settling over her features. “I trust you.”

Those two simple words, spoken with such conviction, sent a wave of emotions through him. *She trusted him. She believed in him.*

He squeezed her hand, hoping she could feel all the things he wanted to say but couldn’t. Then he looked away, focusing on the road ahead.

The drive was mostly silent. He kept his eyes on the road, his mind working overtime. He was acutely aware of her presence next to him, her hand still in his. Every so often he would gently brush his thumb over her knuckles, a silent gesture of reassurance.

But as the minutes ticked by, she remained quiet. He didn’t blame her. There were so many questions, so much to take in. In her place, he’d probably be questioning his sanity right about now.

He wanted to explain himself, to tell her everything. But the words always stayed stuck in his throat, his fear of losing her overpowering everything else. They drove late into the night, the city lights gradually fading as they left the metropolitan area. He was heading for one of the small towns near the coast, a place where they could lie low. He would figure out the rest later. *He had to.*

As the city skyline gave way to open fields and the occasional farmhouse, she finally spoke. “Where are we going?” 

It was the first thing she’d said in hours. Her voice was just a whisper against the rumble of the engine, but it was enough to make his heart pound.

He looked over at her, his eyes meeting hers briefly before returning to the road. “Somewhere safe,” he said simply.

It was a vague answer, but it was all he could give her at the moment. He couldn’t tell her they were running, that they were going to be living off the grid for the foreseeable future. That would only terrify her more. 

She didn’t press him, which he was grateful for. Instead, she turned away, looking out the window at the passing landscape. The silence settled back over them, thick and impenetrable. 

He could sense the tension radiating off her, the questions she was undoubtedly dying to ask. But she kept her mouth closed, keeping her trust in him despite the circumstances. They drove for hours, the night deepening around them. He checked the rearview mirror frequently, his eyes scanning the road behind for any sign of following cars. But the road remained empty, the taillights of other vehicles vanishing into the distance.

His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and plans, the only anchor being the feel of her hand in his. He wanted to assure her, to tell her everything would be alright. But he knew that was a lie, at least for now. The worst was yet to come.

After another hour, they finally reached the edge of the small town. The streetlights were dim, the houses few and far between. This was good, it would be easier to lay low here.

He slowed the car as they entered town, driving past a closed gas station, a darkened diner, and a small motel. The motel signs were all turned off, the only light coming from a flickering neon sign advertising vacancies. He pulled into the parking lot, looking around the area with a critical eye. It was dead, with no cars or people in sight. *Perfect*.

He parked the car in a spot near the end of the lot, furthest away from the motel office. He killed the engine, the sudden silence in the car deafening. He looked over at her, trying to gauge her expression.

She was staring at him, the faint light from a streetlamp outside casting shadows on her face. He could see the fear and uncertainty in her eyes, mixed with determination and resignation. He knew then that she would stay by his side no matter what.

He reached over, releasing her hand to brush his knuckles over her cheek. Her skin was soft and warm. For a moment, he forgot everything, lost in her. But reality came crashing back in, bringing with it the weight of the situation. He drew his hand back, clearing his throat. “We should probably check in.” 

She said nothing, simply nodding in agreement. He climbed out of the car, walking around to open her door for her. She climbed out, her legs a bit wobbly from the long drive. He offered her his arm for support, and she took it, her hand gripping his arm tight. They walked towards the motel office, their footsteps echoing loudly in the quiet night.

The office was small and dimly lit, the lobby almost deserted. The desk clerk looked up lazily as they entered, his eyes immediately zeroing in on their linked arms. Max could feel his gaze linger on their coupled hands, but he ignored it, concentrating on checking them in. The clerk, noticing the look in Max's eyes, wisely kept any comments to himself. He simply handed Max the key to one of the rooms, a silent agreement to not ask any questions. Max nodded in thanks, pulling y/n with him out of the office.

The night air was cold and crisp, a sharp contrast to the heat of the office. He led her towards the room, their footsteps crunching softly on the gravel parking lot. He glanced at her occasionally, noticing the slight frown on her face and the way she shivered in the cold.

"We're almost there," he assured her, his voice soft. He hurried his steps, eager to get her out of the cold and into the warmth of the motel room. They reached the door, and he quickly unlocked it, pushing the door open to reveal the small room inside. The room was simple but clean. There was a queen-sized bed in the center, with a small desk and chair in the corner. The bathroom was a separate room, visible through an open door. The light from the streetlamp outside filtered through the curtains, casting shadows across the room.

He ushered her inside, flicking on the light switch as he closed the door behind them. She looked around, taking in the room with wide eyes. Her gaze lingered on the bed for a moment before she looked at him, her brow furrowed in silent questioning. He could guess what she was thinking. There was only one bed, and they were not sharing it. He swallowed, forcing himself to ignore the ache in his chest at the thought. "I'll take the chair," he said, his voice gruff.

She looked at him, her lips parting as if to protest. But she seemed to think better of it, simply nodding instead. "Okay," she whispered. He looked away, the soft sound of her voice sending a jolt through him. It was going to be a long night. He walked over to the desk, pulled the chair out, and sat down. He leaned back against the hard plastic, closing his eyes and letting out a tired sigh.

He was exhausted, both physically and mentally, but he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep. His mind was too busy, too overloaded with everything that had happened. And the knowledge that she was just a few feet away, so close and yet untouchable, was not helping matters. He opened his eyes, looking over at her. She was sitting on the bed, her legs drawn up to her chest, her fingers toying with a loose thread on the bedspread. She looked small and vulnerable, the fear and uncertainty on her face making his heartache. He wanted to go to her, to comfort her, to promise her that everything would be fine. But he knew he couldn't, not yet. He had to keep his distance, to maintain some semblance of control. For her sake as much as his own.

The silence in the room was deafening. He could hear every small sound, every breath, and every rustle of fabric. It was maddening, like a slow torture. But he forced himself to stay still, to focus on the steady rise and fall of her shoulders as she breathed. She looked up then, her eyes catching him in the semi-darkness of the room. He held her gaze, his heart pounding in his ears. At that moment, all his carefully constructed walls crumbled, his desire and need for her almost overwhelming him.

He wanted to reach out to her, to drag her closer until there was no space between them. He wanted to feel her skin against his, to taste her lips, to hold her until they were both too tired to think.  But he didn't. He stayed where he was, his fingers gripping the edge of the chair, his entire body taut with restraint. *This was for her good, he kept reminding himself.* 

She was watching him, he could feel it. Her eyes were like a physical touch, sending shivers down his spine, and stirring up feelings he had no right to have. He wanted to break the silence, to say something, but he didn't trust his voice not to betray him. The seconds ticked by slowly, the only sound in the room was the steady tick of the wall clock. He could see her looking at him, her eyes tracing the contours of his face, lingering on his lips. It was almost unbearable, the heat in her gaze sending a bolt of desire straight through his gut. He wanted to look away, to break the spell her gaze seemed to have over him. But he couldn’t, his eyes locked on hers like a moth drawn to a flame. He could see the way her chest rose and fell, her breathing growing shallow and fast, matching his rapid heartbeat.

The tension in the room grew thicker, like a living thing between them. The air was electric, crackling with unspoken emotions. He could see her hands clenching and unclenching on the bedspread, and he knew she was struggling as he was, fighting against the pull of their mutual attraction. He clenched his jaw, trying to rein in his emotions, to keep his desire and need for her under control. But it was nearly impossible, every breath, every small movement she made, fanning the fire inside of him.

The air was thick with desire, and the silence between them charged with an almost tangible energy. He knew they were both teetering on the edge, the line between restraint and surrender growing thinner with each passing second.

He was the first to break, his resolve finally crumbling under the weight of his yearning. He stood up suddenly, his chair scraping against the floor. She looked up at him, her eyes wide with surprise and something else. Hope, maybe, or anticipation. Max needed to escape the room; he felt suffocated as if life had punched him in the throat. Nothing was going the way he wanted. He walked to the door without looking back, desperate for a moment to breathe.

He had never felt this way before panic washed over him, and he didn’t know what to do. He stepped outside, the cold air biting at his skin. He leaned against the wall, taking in the cold night, trying to calm his frantic mind. He was supposed to be the one in control, the one who knew what he was doing. But right now, he was lost, drowning in his own emotions. He ran a hand through his hair, pulling at the strands in frustration. He was used to being in charge, to calling the shots. But with her, everything was different. He felt raw and exposed, vulnerable in a way he'd sworn he'd never be again.

He drew in a deep breath, the cold air burning his lungs. He needed to pull himself together, to get a grip on the situation. But the image of her face, the need and desire he saw in her eyes, were branded in his mind, making it impossible to think. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the noise in his head. But the silence of the night only amplified the sound of his heartbeat, the rush of his blood. He had never felt so alive, so on edge. And it was terrifying.

The sun was just starting to rise on the horizon, casting the world in a soft, golden light. Max was driving, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, his mind still a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. The silence in the car was heavy, the weight of the night's events hanging heavily in the air. y/n was sitting in the passenger seat, her body turned slightly towards him, her eyes fixed on his profile. He could feel her gaze on him, like a physical touch, stirring up feelings he had no right to feel.

"How did you sleep?" he asked, his voice gravelly. He didn't look at her, his eyes firmly on the road ahead. He didn't trust himself to look at her now, to see the expression on her face. "I didn't." her reply was quiet, almost a whisper. It sent a pang of guilt through him, knowing that he was the reason she couldn't sleep. He could picture her, lying awake in the darkness, trying to find a comfortable position in the cramped bed. 

"Me either," he admitted, his voice hoarse. He hadn't slept a wink, his mind too busy, his body too tense. He had spent the night pacing the tiny motel room, trying to walk off his restless energy, but it had been futile. They fell into silence again, the only sound the hum of the engine and the tires on the road. Max clenched his jaw, the tension in the car almost unbearable. He was desperate to say something, to break the silence, but he didn't know what to say.

He glanced at her from the corner of his, taking in her profile, the way her hair fell in soft waves around her face. She looked tired, her eyes a little puffy from lack of sleep. But she was still beautiful, more so than ever in the soft morning light. He looked away, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. He needed to keep his distance, to remember why he had left the room last night in the first place. But it was getting harder and harder to ignore the way his heart ached when he looked at her, the way his body responded to her presence.

But he was also afraid. Not of her, but of himself, of the feelings he had for her. He had always been in control, never allowing himself to be vulnerable or emotional. It was what had made him successful, what had made him the man he was today. And he was terrified of losing that control, of becoming someone else because of her. But then he caught another glimpse of her from the corner of his eye, her head resting against the seat, her eyes closed. She was dozing off, her eyelashes casting little shadows on her cheeks. He felt a pang in his chest, a strange mix of longing and protectiveness. 

The drive continued, the only sound the soft hum of the engine and her soft, even breaths. Max's thoughts continued to churn, his emotions swirling in a tangle of confusion and desire. He had never felt this way before, so out of control, so at the mercy of his feelings. He glanced at her again, his eyes lingering on her face, the peace and innocence in her sleep. He wanted to commit her to memory, to imprint every detail into his mind. He knew it was a dangerous thing to do, but he couldn't help it.

Y/N stood by the window now, watching the sun dip below the horizon. Max was still by the fireplace, sharpening the knives he kept in his bag. The quiet weight of their shared history hung in the air.

“I never thanked you properly for that night,” Y/N said, breaking the silence. She hadn’t spoken about it before, but the memory was still so vivid in her mind. That night had changed everything.

Max didn’t look up, his movements steady and mechanical as he worked. “You don’t need to,” he replied, his voice neutral, as always. “I did what I had to.”

She looked at him for a moment, searching for some hint of what he was feeling. For so long, Max had been a closed book. She had tried to get to know him—know him—but every time she felt like she was getting closer, he shut himself off again.

But now, in this quiet cabin, with the firelight casting flickering shadows across his face, Y/N noticed a difference. He wasn’t the same man who had stepped into that alley that night. She wasn’t sure how or when it happened, but she felt a shift between them. Something unspoken, growing.

Max paused in his work, the knife hanging in the air for a moment, his eyes fixed on the sharp edge of the blade. He had felt the shift too, the tension, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them. But he was afraid, that if he looked at her now, if he let himself acknowledge what he was feeling, he would not be able to keep his distance.

"I didn't expect a thank you," he said gruffly, his fingers resuming their work, the sound of the sharpening stone against metal filling the room.

Y/N turned back to the window, the last vestiges of sunlight painting the horizon in pinks and oranges. The world outside was quiet, and peaceful, in stark contrast to the storm of emotions brewing inside her. She knew better than to push him, to try to force him to open up. But she couldn't help but want to know him, to understand the enigma that was Max Verstappen.

"Why did you do it, Max?" she asked, her voice soft. "Why did you help me that night?" 

Max's hand paused again, the knife still in his hand, the stone poised over the blade. He knew she would ask him this one day. But he wasn't ready to answer, to confront the reality of his feelings.

"It was the right thing to do," he said simply, resuming his movement, the sound of the stone against metal filling the silence. Y/N turned, leaning against the windowsill, her eyes on him. She could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw was set, the way he was trying to pretend he was focused on his task. But she knew better.

"Is that the only reason?" she pressed, her voice soft, yet insistent. Max didn’t answer, the silence stretching between them. He could feel her gaze, the questions she was asking without words. He wanted to answer her, to tell her the truth. But he was a coward, too afraid to confess his feelings.

"What other reason could there be?" he asked, feigning nonchalance, his eyes fixed on the knife blade. Y/N felt a pang in her chest at his response. There were so many other reasons, so many things she longed to hear from him, but she knew he wouldn’t say them. Not now, maybe not ever.

"There could be dozens of reasons," she said, her voice softer now, almost a whisper. "Curiosity, boredom, a sense of obligation..."

Max's hand paused, the knife balanced idly against the whetstone. He could hear the disappointment in her voice, the subtle hint of hurt. It made his gut clench, but he pushed the feeling down, burying it under his practiced indifference.

"You’re overthinking it," he said, a hint of irritation in his voice.

Y/N felt a sting of anger at his words, his aloofness setting her nerves on edge. She knew he was trying to push her away, to shut down any chance of an honest conversation, but she was tired of his walls.

"I’m not overthinking it," she retorted, her voice rising slightly. “You’re under-feeling it, as usual.”

Max looked up at her then, his eyes sharp, his expression guarded. He knew she was right, he knew he was bottling up his feelings, but he didn’t know any other way. Showing vulnerability was a luxury he couldn’t afford.

"And you’re overreacting," he shot back, the words meant to hurt as much as they were meant to deflect. Y/N felt her anger flare, her frustration boiling over. She had tried to understand him, to be patient, to look beyond his cold exterior, but he was making it nearly impossible.

"I’m not overreacting," she nearly snapped, her hands balling into fists at her sides. "I’m trying to understand, to get you to talk to me. But you’re just shutting me out... again." 

Max's hands gripped the knife and stone more tightly, his knuckles white, his jaw clenched. Her words stung more than he'd like to admit, hitting too close to home.

"There’s nothing to talk about,” he bit out, his voice cold. "You’re looking for something that isn’t there, y/n. You’re imagining things."

Y/N felt a pang of hurt at his words, his cold dismissal like a slap to the face. She had felt that there was more to them, a connection that was hard to ignore. But he was denying it, shutting down any possibility of more.

"Then maybe I’m delusional," she muttered, her voice filled with an aching sadness. "Because I thought... Nevermind."

Max could hear the sadness in her voice, the resignation that was setting in, and he hated it. Hated himself a little for causing it. But he didn’t know how to change, how to be the man she wanted him to be. 

"You think too much," he tried to joke, but the attempt fell flat, his voice lacking the usual humor.

Y/N’s heart was breaking a little more with each word he said. She had hoped for so much more, for a real conversation, for some sign that he felt something for her, something more than just obligation or curiosity. 

"And you don’t think enough," she retorted, her voice sharp. "You’re hiding, Max. Behind those walls, you’ve built up around yourself. And they’re getting taller each day."

Max’s grip on the knife tightened even more, his knuckles white, his jaw clenched so tight it hurt. He hated that she knew him so well, that she could see through his walls like they were tissue paper.

"They're there for a reason," he ground out. "To keep me—and people like you—safe." 

Y/N felt a mixture of anger and pain surge through her at his words. He was shutting her out, pushing her away, because he was scared. 

"Safe?" she repeated, her voice rising. "You don’t push people away for their good, Max. You do it because you’re afraid. Afraid of feeling, of being vulnerable." Max’s eyes flashed at her words, his temper flaring. Her accusations were like knives, stabbing at his weak spots, exposing his vulnerabilities. 

"I’m not afraid," he snapped, his voice hard and cold. "I’m just realistic. Feelings get you killed in my world." Y/N felt the sting of tears behind her eyes, the depth of his loneliness and fear making her heartache. But her anger was flaring too, her frustration with his stubbornness fueling her words.

"Maybe in your world," she retorted her voice firm and even. "But in my world, feelings are what make life worth living. And you’re missing out, Max. You’re missing out big time."

Max almost threw the knife down, the stone clattering to the floor. The anger inside him was building, threatening to boil over. He couldn’t understand how to make her so emotional, how she could just wear her feelings on her sleeve. 

"Feelings get you killed, y/n," he repeated, his voice like ice. "They make you weak, a target. I’d have been dead years ago if I let myself feel."

Y/N clenched her fists, the urge to punch him rising. But she somehow restrained herself, holding herself back from giving in to her anger.

"Weak?" she repeated, her voice shaking with rage. "Feelings make you human, Max. They make you who you are, who you ought to be. And you’re missing out on all of it because you’re too damned stubborn to try."

Max’s chest was heaving now, his breaths coming in short, hard gasps. Her words were like bullets, each one finding its mark. But he refused to show weakness, to acknowledge the truth in her words. 

"I don’t need your understanding or your compassion," he growled, his hands shaking with anger and suppressed emotion. "I’m fine the way I am."

Y/N took a step towards him, her anger burning bright. "No," she shot back, her voice steady despite the fire in her eyes. "You’re not fine, Max. You’re alone. You always will be if you don’t pull your head out of your ass."

Max’s eyes widened in shock at her outburst. No one had ever spoken to him like this, so bluntly, so boldly. It was both frustrating and enthralling. 

"Watch how you speak to me," he warned, his voice low and dangerous. "You’re way out of your depth here, y/n."

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, the sound harsh and dry. "I’ll speak to you any way I damn please, Max," she bit back, closing the remaining distance so she was standing right in front of him. "And you don’t scare me. Not one bit."

Max’s breath caught in his chest as she got closer, her insolent tone and fearless stare sparking an unfamiliar feeling in him. He wanted to grab her, to shake her, to make her understand the danger she was in. But he also wanted to pull her closer, to feel her warmth against him, to lose himself in her fire. 

"You should be scared," he managed to say, his voice hoarse, his body tensing.

Y/N met his gaze without flinching, her eyes holding him with a fire that he’d never seen before. "I’m not," she replied, her voice steady. "Because I know you won’t hurt me. You may pretend to be this cold, hard killer, but deep down, you’re nothing of the sort."

Y/N couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Max finally confesses that he loved her, that her being here, in this cabin, with him, was by his design. It was overwhelming, the sheer weight of emotion in his words, the rawness in his voice. 

“Max” She took a step closer, her hands reaching out as if to touch him, to anchor herself against the storm of emotions threatening to knock her off her feet. He flinched as he felt her hands on his chest, her touch like electricity on his skin. He had never been one to crave physical contact, but now, with her, it was like a drug. He wanted more, so much more. 

"Don’t," he said, his hands coming up to grasp her wrists, to keep her from getting any closer. "Don’t touch me. Don’t look at me like that." Y/N ignored his request, her fingers tracing the lines of muscle on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart underneath his shirt. "Why?" she asked, her voice soft, her eyes fixed on his. "Why can’t I touch you? Why can’t I look at you?"

Max felt himself shudder at her touch, every nerve ending in his body alive with a strange fire. He should have pushed her away, should have put an end to this madness. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. 

"Because Because " he stammered, his mind a jumble of thoughts and feelings. "Because if you keep looking at me like that if you keep touching me… I won’t be able to control myself."

Y/N noticed the desperation in his voice and the hunger in his eyes. She knew he was fighting a losing battle, fighting his feelings. But she couldn't stop herself from pushing him further, from wanting more. 

"And what if I don’t want you to control yourself?" she teased, her fingers dancing over his skin, tracing the muscles of his shoulders. Max was coming undone beneath her touch, her words sending a shiver down his spine. He couldn’t resist any longer, the dam he had built up around his emotions was cracking.

"You don’t know what you're saying," he managed to say, his voice hoarse. But his hands on her wrists were gentler now, no longer trying to push her away. Y/N moved even closer, her body now pressed against his, her hands sliding up to his neck. She could feel the heat from his body, her heart racing. 

"I know exactly what I’m saying," she whispered, her breath hot against his ear. "I want you, Max. All of you. And I won’t let you push me away."

Max was drowning in her touch, in her words, in her scent. He could feel her body against his, her breath on his skin. Every instinct he had was telling him to push her away, to save her from himself. But the desire, the need to have her was overpowering.

"You don’t know what you’re getting into," he husked, his hands finally leaving her wrists, moving to her hips instead, pulling her even closer. "Once I have you, I’m never letting go." 

“God Max you're so dumb if you haven’t realized that you’ve had me since that night you saved my life” y/n admitted. Max's eyes widened at her words, the truth of them hitting him hard. He had had her all along, and he hadn't even realized it. He was so used to being alone, so used to guarding his heart, that he had missed the one person who had cared about him, truly and deeply. 

"You’re mine," he said, his voice almost a growl, his hands grabbing her hips more tightly. "No one else gets to have you, to touch you, to love you. Ever."

Y/N felt a thrill go through her at his possessive tone, the primal need in his voice. It should have scared her, to be claimed by a man like Max, a dangerous and complicated man. But it didn’t. It only made her want him more. 

"Then take me, Max," she whispered, her hands running down his chest, to the hem of his shirt. "Make me yours, completely."

Max’s control snapped. The last shred of restraint was gone, replaced with a fierce hunger, a primal need. He wanted her, needed her more than ever, and he was going to have her.

He pulled her against him, his mouth crashing onto hers in a bruising kiss. He devoured her, ravishing her mouth, claiming her body, making her his.

Y/N felt herself melt against him, her body submitting to his, giving him everything he wanted. The kiss was wild, unbridled, a tangle of teeth and tongue and passion. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding onto him as he kissed her, as his hands roamed over her body, claiming her with every touch. Y/N felt herself melt against him, her body submitting to his, giving him everything he wanted. The kiss was wild, unbridled, a tangle of teeth and tongue and passion. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding onto him as he kissed her, as his hands roamed over her body, claiming her with every touch. Max tasted her as if she were his last meal as if he couldn’t get enough of her. He pushed her back against the nearest wall, his body pressing against hers, his hands exploring her curves, claiming every inch of her.

He broke the kiss only to trail his lips down her neck, nipping and sucking at her skin, marking her as his own. Y/N arched against him, her body responding to his touch, to his claim. Every nerve ending was on fire, her body aflame with desire. She had never felt like this before, so wanted, so desired. 

Her hands moved to his hair, her fingers tangling in his locks as she held him closer, begging for more. Max felt her surrender to him, her body responding to his every touch. He loved the way she felt in his arms, loved the way her body moved against his. His mind was hazy with desire, his skin on fire with need. 

His hands moved to the hem of her shirt, his fingers slipping under the fabric, pulling it up and off over her head. Y/N gasped as he pulled off her shirt, her skin bare now, sensitive to his touch. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, his hands roaming over her exposed flesh, his touch sending shivers down her spine. 

Her own hands were exploring his chest, her fingers tracing the hard planes of muscle, her nails scraping lightly over his skin. Max groaned at her touch, her nails on his skin making his head spin. He couldn’t get enough of her, he needed more. 

He pushed her back against the wall once more, his mouth finding her neck, his teeth scraping over her collarbone. His hands moved to the waistband of her pants, unbuttoning them, and pulling them down her legs. Y/N felt herself being stripped of every bit of clothing, Max’s hands and mouth leaving a trail of heat on her skin. She was bare before him, vulnerable and yet powerful in her desire for him. 

She pulled at his shirt now, needing to feel his skin against hers, needing to be as close to him as possible. Max pulled back just long enough to rip off his shirt, his chest now bare, his breathing heavy. He pulled her back against him, the skin-to-skin contact sending a jolt through his body. 

He picked her up effortlessly, carrying her towards the bed and laying her down gently. He looked at her there, lying beneath him, beautiful and perfect and completely his. Y/N looked up at him, the heat in his eyes stealing her breath. She had never felt so desired, so wanted, so needed. She reached for him, pulling him down on top of her, her hands roaming over his back, her legs wrapping around his waist. 

Max leaned down, his body covering hers, his mouth finding hers in a searing kiss. His hands were everywhere, his touch desperate, needy. He was on the verge of losing control, consumed by the fire that burned for her alone. 

He broke the kiss, his mouth trailing down her neck, her chest, his teeth nipping at her skin, marking her, claiming her. Y/N arched against him, her body moving in a rhythm all its own, her hands clutching at his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. She was lost in a sea of sensations, every touch sending waves of pleasure through her. 

She ran her hands over his back, her fingers tracing over the taut muscles, her nails scraping lightly, trying to urge him on. Max felt her nails on his skin, the sting of it only fueling the fire within him. He moved lower, his mouth finding her chest, his tongue flicking over her peaks, his teeth grazing her skin. He wanted to taste every inch of her, to make her his completely. 

Y/N felt herself coming undone beneath him, her body responding to his every touch, his every move. She was burning for him, her body on fire with desire. She wanted him, needed him, more than anything. 

"Max," she gasped, her voice rough and breathless. "Please. I need you. Now."

Max didn't need any more encouragement. He was past the point of no return, consumed by his need for her, his entire body on edge. He positioned himself at her entrance, his body thrumming with anticipation. 

He looked down at her, her eyes wild and desperate, her body begging for him. He wanted to savor this moment, to commit it to memory. But the need was too overpowering, the hunger too strong.Y/N looked up at him, her eyes meeting his, holding his gaze. She could see the fire in his eyes, the barely contained need burning within him. She wanted to say something, to express her own need, but she couldn’t find the words, couldn’t break the spell. 

Instead, she reached for him, her hands pulling him down to her, her body arching against his, silently begging for him to give her what they both so desperately needed. Max couldn't hold back any longer. The feel of her body against his, the fire in her eyes, it was all too much. 

He pushed into her slowly, her body welcoming him, her heat enveloping him. He groaned, her name a whisper on his lips, as he felt himself being pulled deeper, closer. 

He started to move, a slow, deep rhythm at first, trying to savor this moment, to make it last. But the feeling, the sheer intensity of it, was too much. He found himself moving faster, harder, deeper, consumed by the need to own her, to make her his, to love her. Max lost himself in her, his body moving with a primal rhythm, his thoughts consumed by desire, by need. He was lost in her, in the feel of her body, the taste of her skin, the sound of her cries. 

He wanted more, needed more. He needed all of her.

He moved even faster, harder, pulling her closer, deeper, trying to fuse them completely. The pleasure was building, hot and intense, driving them to pleasure. Y/N gasped as he moved, the pleasure building and building, so intense it was on the edge of pain. She held onto him, her nails digging into his skin, her body writhing beneath his.

She couldn’t form coherent thoughts, her mind consumed by the sensations, by the burning need. It was all too much, and yet not enough. She wanted more, needed more.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, urging him on, crying out his name, lost in the fire they had.

Max was beyond reason, beyond control. He could feel himself teetering on the edge, the pleasure building, burning him up from the inside out. 

He moved even faster, deeper, his body on autopilot, driven by the primal need to possess her, to claim her completely. 

His hand found her hip, his fingers digging in, holding her in place, holding her to him. "Mine," he growled, his voice rough and possessive. "You’re mine. All mine." Y/N felt the words down to her core, the possessive tone sending shivers through her body. She wanted to deny it, to rebel against the claim, but the feeling was too strong. She was his, in body, mind, and soul. 

She moved with him, her body responding to his every move, every touch. She could feel the pleasure building, intense and overwhelming. 

She reached for him, her hands clutching at his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. "God, Max," she gasped, her voice breathless, "I’m yours. All yours."

Max felt her words like a jolt of electricity. He loved hearing her say it, to hear her admit that she was his. It only fueled the fire within him. 

He moved even harder, deeper, the need to claim her completely overpowering him. He could feel himself losing control, teetering on the edge. 

He leaned down, his mouth finding her neck, his teeth scraping over her skin. "Say it again," he commanded, his voice rough and possessive. "Say you're mine."

Y/N gasped, the pleasure building to almost unbearable heights. The words came easily this time, the truth of them making her heartache. "I’m yours," she repeated, her voice hoarse and breathless. "I’m yours, all yours, Max. Only yours."

Max felt his body tense at her words, the fire within him burning hotter than ever. He was so close, so close to losing himself completely. 

He moved harder, faster, deeper, his body and mind completely consumed by pleasure, by need. 

He found her mouth, kissing her fiercely, claiming her in every way possible. "You’re mine," he growled against her lips, "Mine forever." Y/N felt the words wash over her, the possessiveness in them igniting a fire within her. She was lost, completely lost to the sensations, to the feelings he was evoking. 

She met his kisses with her own, her body moving with his, the pleasure so intense it was almost painful. 

"Yes," she gasped, her voice breathless and strained, "Always. Always yours."

Max felt the pleasure building, the pressure within him mounting. It was too much. He was on the verge of losing control, losing himself completely to the fire within him. 

He moved with a frantic pace, his body driven by the need to claim her, to make her fully his. 

He looked down at her, his eyes locking with hers, holding her gaze as he teetered on the edge, the pleasure reaching its peak. "Y/N," he groaned, his voice rough and desperate, "Say my name." Y/N felt his body tensing, felt the need in his voice, the fire in his eyes. She was lost in the sensations, in the overwhelming pleasure. She looked up at him, her eyes holding his, her body responding to his every move. 

She reached up and cupped his face, her thumbs tracing over his skin. "Max," she breathed, her voice a mere whisper, "Max, I'm yours."

Max felt her say his name, the sound of it like a spark igniting the fire within him. The need, the desire, the love he felt for her was overwhelming, all-consuming. 

He was on the edge now, so close to losing himself completely. 

He leaned down, his forehead resting against hers, his breath coming in harsh gasps. "Damn it, Y/N," he whispered, his voice strained, "I love you, I love you so much it hurts."

Y/N's breath hitched at his words, her heart swelling in her chest. She'd never heard him say those words before, and hearing them now, in this moment, it was overwhelming. 

She felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, her breath catching in her throat. "Max," she said, her voice a broken whisper. "I love you too."

Those words, those three little words, they were all it took. 

Max felt everything in him explode. The pleasure, the need, the love, it all boiled over, consuming him completely.

He let out a guttural moan, his body trembling as he found his release, his mind completely blank, his senses overwhelmed. 

He held onto her, his body collapsing on top of hers, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "God, Y/N," he managed to say, his voice rough and hoarse, "I love you so damn much." 

Y/N felt him shudder against her, the pleasure in his voice sending a thrill through her. She held onto him tightly, her arms around his shoulders, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of her release. 

She held him close, her body cradling his, her hands gently running through his hair. "I love you," she murmured, her voice soft and filled with emotion, "So, so much." 

Max buried his face in her neck, his breaths still coming in ragged gasps. He felt raw, vulnerable, and exposed. But he didn't care. 

He'd just told her he loved her, something he'd never said to anyone before. He'd just given himself to her completely, body, mind, and soul. And it felt right. It felt good. 

He lifted his head, his eyes meeting hers, his expression soft and filled with tenderness. "Y/N," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, "Promise me something."

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes locking with his. She could see the vulnerability in his gaze, the soft tenderness in his expression. 

She ran her fingers gently over his cheek, an unspoken promise in her touch. "Anything," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. Max felt his heart clench at her response, her words filling him with a mix of hope and fear. He knew what he was about to ask was a lot, a huge risk. But he had to take the chance.

He leaned his forehead against hers, their noses almost touching. "Promise me you'll stay with me," he said, his voice rough and hoarse, "No matter what." Y/N's heart skipped a beat at his words. She could hear the fear in his voice, the desperate need for reassurance. 

She lifted her hand, her fingers tracing over his jawline, a silent promise in the touch. "I promise," she said, her voice so soft it was barely a whisper. "I'll stay, no matter what. Always." Max felt a wave of relief and gratitude wash over him at her words. Her promise, her reassurance, it was exactly what he needed to hear. 

He pulled her close, his arms wrapping around her, his body molding to hers. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling deeply, the scent of her like a balm to his soul. 

He had put his heart on the line, had bared his soul to her, and she had not run away. She had stood her ground and had made him a promise. It was more than he ever dared to hope for. Y/N held him back just as tightly, her arms around his waist, her body fitting against his like a puzzle piece. 

She could feel the strength in him, the vulnerability. She could see the walls he had worked so hard to build starting to crumble, because of her. Because he loved her.

She ran her fingers through his hair gently, whispering, "I'm not going anywhere, Max. You're stuck with me now." Max chuckled softly against her, the sound a mixture of relief and amusement.

"Oh, I'm stuck with you, am I?" he asked, lifting his head to look down at her, a smirk playing on his lips. 

He tightened his arms around her, pressing her even closer, his tone teasing. "I guess there's no getting rid of you then, hm?" Y/N laughed softly, her eyes sparkling with humor. "Nope, sorry. You're stuck with me forever," she quipped, feigning an apologetic tone.

She reached up and ruffled his hair, a wicked gleam in her eye. "You should've thought about that before you fell in love with me," she teased, a smirk curving her lips. Max huffed out a laugh at her retort, his eyes narrowing in mock irritation. "Oh, and that's on me, is it?" he asked, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement.

He pinched her side gently, his fingers drumming against her hip. "You're a pain in the ass, you know that?" he said, his tone affectionate. Y/N yelped at the pinch, her body jerking against his. She tried to squirm out of his grasp, but he held her fast, his grip firm but gentle.

She looked up at him, her expression a mix of mock indignation and playful defiance. "Me, a pain in the ass?" she asked, her words flavored with a hint of laughter, "Oh, please. You love it." 

Max chuckled again, the sound deep and rumbling in his chest. He pulled her even closer, his body pressing against hers.

"Maybe I do," he admitted, his voice low and rough. "Maybe I love it just as much as I love you."

He nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck, his lips brushing against her skin, his words muffled against her skin. "God, you drive me crazy, you know that?" 

Y/N shivered as he nuzzled her neck, her breath hitching at the feel of his lips against her skin. 

She tipped her head back, offering him better access, her hands roaming over his back, tracing lazy patterns on his skin. "I don't know," she said, her voice teasing, "Am I supposed to be sorry about that?"

Max nipped at her neck, his teeth grazing over her skin, not hard enough to hurt, just enough to send a shiver down her spine. 

"No," he said, his voice a low growl, "You're not sorry about it, are you?"

He pulled away slightly, looking down at her, his eyes smoldering with heat. "You love driving me crazy," he said, his tone rough and raw. Y/N's breath caught in her throat at the look in his eyes, the desire, the heat, it was almost too much to bear.

She felt her own body responding to his, her heart rate quickening, her skin heating up. 

"Maybe a little bit," she admitted slowly, a smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth. "But can you blame me? You make it so damn easy." Max's eyes darkened at her words, a low growl rumbling in his chest. He tightened his arms around her, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips. 

"You're playing with fire, darling," he warned, his voice a low rumble. "Careful, or I might just lose control again." Y/N met his gaze, her expression one of feigned innocence. "Who, me?" she asked, her voice dripping with sweetness. 

She pressed a hand against his chest, her fingers splayed out over his thudding heart. "But I like seeing you lose control," she confessed, her voice a sultry whisper. "It's incredibly hot." Max's eyes nearly rolled back into his head at her admission, her words like fuel to the fire already burning within him. He leaned forward, his mouth by her ear, his breath hot against her skin. 

"You're a damn tease," he growled, "And you know it." Y/N chuckled, her breath hitching at the feel of his breath on her skin. "Guilty as charged," she admitted, her tone unapologetic. 

She shifted against him, her body moving in an unmistakably provocative way. "But you love it," she added, her voice dripping with sultriness.

Max growled again, his hands tightening on her hips, his body responding to her movements. He was losing control again, he could feel it. 

He could feel the fire within him burning hotter and hotter, the need for her overwhelming. He fought to hold on, to keep his control, but he was losing the battle fast.

"You're playing a dangerous game," he warned, his voice rough and strained. "I'm not going to be gentle."

Max's eyes darkened, and his breath caught in his throat. Her touch, her words, they were pushing him towards the edge. 

Y/N relished the tone of his voice, the low rumble that sent a shiver of desire down her spine. Her hands roamed over his body, her touch light but intentional, designed to fuel the blaze within him. "Who said I wanted you to be gentle?" she asked, her fingers tracing a path down his chest. He could feel his control slipping away, the fire within him burning white-hot. He leaned down, his voice a husky whisper against her ear, "Be careful what you ask for."

Y/N shivered at the heat in his voice, his words sending a thrill through her body. 

She pressed herself closer to him, her breath coming in short gasps. "I don't want to be careful," she breathed, her hands wandering further down, brushing over the front of his trousers. 

"I want you, Max, all of you." Max's breath hitched at her words, at the feel of her hand on him. His body was taut, his muscles coiled and tense, ready to snap.

He let out a guttural moan, his hands gripping her hips so tightly it was almost painful.

"You're driving me insane," he ground out, his voice rough and desperate. "You're going to be the death of me, I swear."

Y/N loved seeing him like this, desperate and unhinged, all because of her. 

She pressed her body against his, her hands exploring the planes of his chest. "Maybe that's kind of the point," she teased, her voice low and sultry. 

"Maybe I want to drive you insane. Maybe I want you to lose control." Max knew he was losing control, but he couldn't find it in him to care. 

He took his time exploring her body, his touch gentle and reverent. He paid attention to every little gasp and moan that escaped her lips, memorizing what she liked, what made her body arch and shudder beneath him. 

He wanted to imprint this moment in his memory, to commit her every reaction, every sound, to memory. 

"You're so damn beautiful," he whispered, his voice hoarse and rough. Y/N was lost in a haze of pleasure, her body responding to every touch, every caress. 

She'd never experienced anything like this before, this maddening mix of tenderness and raw desire, this feeling of being worshiped and adored. 

She ran her hands over his back, digging her fingers into his flesh, her voice a ragged whisper. "Max please " Max wanted time to stop leaving them in this moment forever but he was a rational man and he knew his with y/n was limited so he would give her anything he wanted. Max pressed his forehead against hers, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"What do you want, darling?" he asked, his voice a low rumble, his eyes holding hers. 

"Anything. I'll give you anything you want."

Y/N felt a wave of tenderness wash over her at his words, at the look in his eyes. 

She reached up and cupped his face in her hands, her thumb tracing over his cheek. "I want you," she whispered, her voice soft but firm. 

"Just you. I want all of you." 

Max's eyes darkened at her words, his heart swelling in his chest. 

He turned his head, his lips brushing over the palm of her hand. "You have me, darling," he said, his voice low and rough. 

"You have all of me. I'm yours, completely yours."

Y/N's breath hitched at his words, her heart fluttering in her chest. 

She pulled him down for a kiss, her lips moving hungrily against his. 

"You're mine," she breathed, her voice filled with a possessive edge, "And I'm not letting you go, Max. I'm never letting you go." Max returned her kiss with equal fervor, his body pressing hers into the mattress. 

He broke away from her mouth, his teeth grazing over her neck. 

"You're not getting rid of me, darling," he growled, his voice a raw, possessive rumble.  "I'm yours. For as long as you'll have me." Max says looking down at her. 

Y/n smiled sweetly up at cradling the side of his face “of course I’ll have you max. I’ll always have you” she says softly before kissing him. 

The next morning, Max found himself slumped in the old, creaky chair by the window, sunlight streaming in and casting warm patches across the worn wooden floor. On the table beside him lay the gun he had been meticulously cleaning, now untouched and gathering dust, as if it mirrored the chaos in his mind. He stared blankly at the intricate details of the firearm the way the light glinted off its polished metal, the grooves of the handle that felt oddly familiar in his grip but his thoughts were far from the present moment. 

The sharp scent of gunpowder lingered in the air as Max stood in the dimly lit warehouse, his eyes locked on the lifeless body of the man on the floor. Blood pooled around him, staining the concrete beneath. Max’s pulse barely quickened. He’d done this before. It had become second nature clean, efficient, unemotional.

Behind him, his father, Jos, stood with his arms crossed, watching the scene with a calm, detached gaze. It was as if this was nothing more than a business transaction. A simple job.

Max wiped the blood from his hands, his heart heavy but his face blank. He was eighteen, and already he’d seen more violence than most men saw in a lifetime. Jos had taught him well and had made sure his son knew the price of loyalty and the consequences of betrayal.

“Clean it up, Max,” Jos said, his voice low but commanding. “We don’t leave a mess.”

Max didn’t reply. There was no need for words. He moved to the side, motioning to the men who had been waiting for this moment. They began to drag the body out of sight, and Max turned his focus back to his father.

Jos approached, his gaze sharp and assessing. “You did good. You’re ready.”

Max swallowed the bitterness that rose in his throat. “Ready for what, exactly?”

Jo’s lips curved into a thin smile. “Ready to take on bigger jobs. You’ve proven yourself in the field. You understand the power we hold, the loyalty that binds us.” He looked Max over with a keen eye. “Now, it’s time you start carrying out the work that will solidify our family’s hold over this city.”

Max’s stomach tightened. He wasn’t sure he liked where this was going, but he wasn’t in a position to question it. Not then.

Jos stepped closer, his voice lowering. “This isn’t just about muscle, son. It’s about strategy. You’ll be making decisions. Learning how to control men, how to make deals, how to enforce our will. This city belongs to us, and I expect you to protect it.”

Max nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. He knew that this was more than just killing. This was about taking power, holding onto it with an iron fist, and doing whatever it took to keep the family at the top. He had been raised to believe that this was his destiny.

A few months later, Max was in the backseat of a sleek black car, his knuckles white from gripping the leather seat. His father’s business was expanding, and that meant more jobs—jobs that Max didn’t feel comfortable doing but never once questioned. His father had trained him to be ruthless, and he would be.

They had just finished a deal with a rival faction, and things had gone south. One of the men involved had tried to double-cross Jos. Now, they were on their way to deal with him, to make sure he never did it again.

Max didn’t speak much during the ride. He stared out of the window, his mind going over the plan. Jos had made it clear. The traitor had to pay the price. There was no room for weakness.

When the car stopped in front of an old warehouse, Max’s body tensed. This wasn’t just a simple hit. The man they were after had family—his wife, his kids. Max had never been asked to kill an innocent person before, but he knew the game well enough to know that in the world they lived in, anyone could be collateral damage.

Jos stepped out first, followed by Max and his men. They moved swiftly, heading toward the building. Max’s heart raced as they approached the door, knowing what would come next.

Inside, the man was waiting. He was on his knees, hands bound, his face pale with fear. His wife and children were behind him, terrified, clinging to each other. Jos gave a casual glance over his shoulder to Max, his voice calm but chilling.

“Make sure the wife and kids know their place. Don’t let them forget why this happened.”

Max stood frozen, watching the scene unfold. It wasn’t just the man’s life at stake now. His whole family was caught in the crossfire.

But Jos didn’t hesitate. He ordered the man to be executed in front of his family, making sure the wife and children witnessed it. Max’s stomach churned as he tried to keep his focus, trying to remind himself that this was the life they lived, that this was what he was trained for. Yet something inside him twisted, recoiling at the sight of the child’s tear-filled eyes.

Afterward, as they walked back to the car, Jos didn’t say a word about the mess they’d left behind, the people who would now be marked for life. But Max could see the pride in his father’s eyes. He had done his job. He had proven himself. But in the silence that followed, Max couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that what he’d just done was a step too far.

Max sat alone in his father’s office one evening, the weight of the past few weeks pressing down on him. He was twenty-two at the time, more deeply enmeshed in the family business than ever before. But it was starting to feel like a prison, and he was beginning to realize he had no way out.

Jos entered the room, his demeanor calm but cold. He had a job for Max a big one. But this time, it wasn’t about taking out a rival. This time, it was personal.

“There’s a traitor within our ranks,” Jos said, his voice carrying the weight of authority. “I need you to take care of him.”

Max looked up, his gaze steady. He had seen this before. He had been the one to carry out such orders countless times. But this time, it felt different. His hand clenched into a fist under the table.

“Who is it?” Max asked, his voice even.

Jos leaned forward, his eyes hard. “Yusuf.”

Max froze. The name hit him like a punch to the gut. Yusuf had always been a thorn in the side of the family, but Jos had never considered him a threat not until now.

“What’s he done?” Max asked, his voice tight.

Jos didn’t answer directly. Instead, he dropped a folder onto the desk. Inside, Max found surveillance photos of Yusuf meeting with rival factions, scheming behind his back.

“He’s trying to take control of the business. He’s planning a coup,” Jos said, his tone cold. “And I won’t let it happen. You will take care of it, Max. I’m counting on you.”

Max stared at the photos for a long moment, the weight of the decision pressing down on him. He knew what this meant. If he killed Marco, there would be no turning back. He would be fully entrenched in his father’s empire, forever.

But it wasn’t just about loyalty anymore. It was about control about power. Max knew he had a choice, but at that moment, he wasn’t sure he was ready to make it.

Jos watched him closely, waiting for a response. But Max didn’t speak. His mind was already racing, wondering if he could ever truly break free from the chains his father had wrapped around him.

Max had been raised with expectations. His father, Jos, had made sure Max understood early on that loyalty to the family came first. There was no room for weakness, no room for doubt. When Max was barely eighteen, he had been sent on his first assignment”more like an initiation.

He still remembered the cold, sterile office of the warehouse, the pungent scent of cigar smoke hanging thick in the air as Jos spoke in that firm, commanding voice.

“You will do what is necessary, Max,” Jos had said. “There is no going back from this life. Remember that.”

Max’s first job was simple: eliminate a rival. No questions asked. No hesitation.

It was a clean job. A quiet job. He did what was required and moved on. There were no emotions, no second thoughts”only the task at hand. But that night, when he saw life leave the man’s eyes, something inside him shifted. Something that told him this was the path he had to follow, whether he wanted to or not.

He’d buried that feeling deep, knowing that he couldn’t afford to feel it. Not in his world. 

“Max?” Y/N’s voice snapped him back to the present, her soft, hesitant tone pulling him out of his thoughts.

He turned to face her, blinking in surprise. “What is it?”

She studied him carefully, her expression softening. “I don’t know why you keep doing this for me… But I think I get it now.”

Max frowned slightly. “Get what?”

“Why do you keep pushing everyone away,” Y/N said, her eyes locking onto him. “Why don't you let people get too close.”

Max’s breath caught in his throat. It was like she could see right through him. He wanted to deny it, to brush her words off, but instead, he found himself standing there, looking at her as if she were the only thing that made sense anymore.

“I don’t know how to be anything else,” he admitted quietly, the walls in his chest cracking just enough to let a little vulnerability slip through.

Y/N stepped closer, her voice gentle. “You don’t have to be that person anymore. You don’t have to push people away. Not with me.”

Max’s eyes flickered to hers, and for the first time in a long time, he felt the pull of something warm. Something genuine.

He wasn’t sure if he was ready to let go of everything he’d known, but with Y/N standing theres someone who wasn’t afraid of his darkness he felt like maybe, just maybe, he could try.

A few months ago, Max had been faced with the ultimate test of loyalty. His father had tasked him with making a choice: protect the family’s interests or eliminate anyone who stood in their way. There was no room for both.

But something had happened. Something Max couldn’t explain. When he thought about Y/N the way she looked at him, the way she made him feel like he wasn’t just his father’s son Max realized that he didn’t want to keep living a life based on violence and betrayal.

The night he decided to leave, he didn’t say goodbye to anyone. He just left, taking only what he needed. He couldn’t tell Y/N why he was doing it not yet but he knew one thing: He was done with the mafia. For her. For himself.

Max sat beside Y/N, the flickering fire casting long shadows across the room. They had spent the day in silence, both lost in their thoughts, yet more connected than ever. After weeks of running, of living in constant fear, tonight felt different. It felt like they were finding a new rhythm, a new normal.

Max glanced over at Y/N, who was staring into the fire, her expression contemplative. Her presence, once just a source of distraction, had begun to feel like something more”like peace.

He reached out, his fingers lightly brushing hers. It was a simple gesture, but it held more weight than words ever could.

Y/N turned to him, her heart beating a little faster. She’d been thinking about the same thing the way their bond had been growing. It hadn’t been instant, but every moment they shared felt like a small piece of a puzzle clicking into place.

Max took a deep breath, his voice quieter than usual. “I never thought I’d get out. Not really. I was born into this life, Y/N. Raised to take it all in stride. To be the boss. My father made sure of that.”

Y/N didn’t respond right away. She just listened, her heart heavy with empathy for the man sitting next to her. She had seen the coldness in his eyes when they first met, but now she understood it. It wasn’t who he was it was who he had been forced to be.

“I remember the first time my father sent me out on a job,” Max continued, his voice a little distant as the memory surfaced. “I was eighteen. I didn’t even know how to feel about it hell, I didn’t even know how to kill someone until he told me exactly how to do it.”

Y/N’s hand tightened around his, but she didn’t speak. She just let him continue, knowing that this was something he had kept buried for far too long.

“I did it,” he said softly, his voice full of a haunting finality. “Without question. I wasn’t a kid anymore. But I was still I don’t know… broken inside. I couldn’t feel what I was supposed to. Like, I knew what I had to do, but it didn’t feel real. It didn’t feel like me.”

Max paused the weight of his words hanging between them. He turned to face Y/N, his eyes filled with something unspoken.

“Until I met you.”

Y/N blinked, surprised by the sudden shift in his words. “Me?”

Max nodded slowly, his voice barely above a whisper. “You changed everything, Y/N. I didn’t know it then, but when I pulled you out of that alley… you made me feel something real again.”

Y/N’s heart thudded in her chest. Her breath caught as she realized the magnitude of what Max was saying. The man who had been hardened by years of violence, who had lived a life of solitude and coldness, was opening up to her. He wasn’t just speaking to her as the man who saved her that night”he was speaking as someone who had truly started to care.

“I don’t know how to do this,” Max continued, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t know how to be this person I feel like I’m becoming when I’m with you. I’ve been a monster for so long that I’m not sure how to be anything else. But when I’m with you I don’t feel like that anymore.”

Y/N could feel the vulnerability in his words, and her heart ached for him. She could see the struggle in his eyes, the battle between the man he had been and the man he wanted to be.

“I don’t need you to be perfect, Max,” she said softly, her voice steady and warm. “I just need you to be you. That’s all I ever wanted. Because…”

She stopped herself, the words catching in her throat. Her heart was pounding now, and she knew this was a moment they couldn’t go back from. She had to be honest, even if it terrified her.

“Because I love you and you're my best friend,” Y/N whispered, her voice barely audible.

Max froze, his entire body still as her words washed over him. It was like time had slowed down, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe. He wasn’t sure what to say whether to admit the same feelings he had buried deep inside or to keep pushing them down, afraid of what it would mean.

But then Y/N squeezed his hand, her fingers trembling slightly, and he realized she was just as afraid as he was.

“I love you, too,” he finally said, his voice barely a whisper. “I think I have been for a while now. But I don’t know what this means for us, Y/N. I don’t know if we can escape the world I came from. And I don’t know if I can protect you from it.”

Y/N’s eyes softened, her thumb gently rubbing the back of his hand. “Max,” she said, her voice filled with quiet resolve, “maybe we can’t escape everything. Maybe our pasts will always follow us. But we can choose what we do next. We can choose what we make of this.”

Max let out a deep breath, feeling a weight he didn’t know he was carrying to start to lift. He looked at her, truly looked at her for the first time, seeing her not as someone he needed to protect, but as someone he wanted to protect. Someone who had brought light into his darkness.

For the first time in years, Max felt like he could finally choose something for himself. Something good.

He leaned in slowly, his hand gently cupping her face. “Then let’s choose this. Together.”

And in that moment, as their lips met for the third time, everything else faded away—the past, the danger, the uncertainty. There were only them.

But even as they shared this moment, the danger was still very much alive. Marco’s men had been closing in on them for weeks, and though they had been successful in evading capture, Max knew it was only a matter of time before they would have to face the consequences of their choices.

As they pulled apart, Max’s mind went back to the life he had left behind. Marco wasn’t someone who would let his son’s disappearance go unanswered. And his father’s wrath was never far behind.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you,” Max vowed, his voice low and fierce. “No matter what happens, I’ll protect you.”

Y/N met his gaze, her expression determined. “I trust you, Max. And I’ll fight with you. I don’t want to run anymore.”

The resolve in her voice made Max’s heart race. They were no longer just running from the past. They were ready to face whatever came next together.

And in that moment, they knew the fight was far from over. But at least they had each other. And that gave them more strength than they had ever known.

Max held her close, feeling her heart beating against his chest. He knew they had very little time before Marco’s men found them. But in that moment, all he could feel was her. The softness of her skin against his, the warmth of her breath on his neck.

He ran his fingers through her hair, his voice low. "There's something I have to tell you, darling."

“I know who you are Max,” Y/n says before Max can say anything else. Max is caught off guard by her words, his hand stilling in her hair. He looks down at her, his eyes dark and intense. 

"You knew?" he says, his voice a low rumble. 

He was not sure what he was expecting from her, but this wasn’t it. He'd been so careful to keep his true identity from her, to shield her from the darkness of his world. Y/N nods, her expression solemn but firm. 

She reaches up, placing her hand on his chest. She can feel his heart beating fast beneath her fingertips. 

“I’ve known for a while,” she admits softly. “I saw some things. Heard some things. I put it together.” 

Max just stares at her for a moment, processing her words. He wasn’t sure why he was surprised. She was smart and observant. Of course, she would figure it out eventually. He lets out a breath, his jaw clenching. "Why didn’t you say anything?" 

His voice is rough with emotion, a mixture of vulnerability and defensiveness. He had spent so much time and energy trying to keep this part of himself hidden from her. Now it seemed pointless. 

Y/N steps closer, her hand sliding up to press against his cheek. She looks at him with a mixture of understanding and concern. 

“I didn’t want you to think I was judging you,” she says, her voice gentle. “I know I know what you’ve been through. What you’ve done. But I also know that you’re more than your past, Max.” Her words hit him hard, like a punch to the gut. He had expected judgment, fear, and disappointment. But all he saw in her eyes was acceptance, understanding, love. 

His shoulders sag with a mixture of relief and confusion. How could she see the monster in him and still look at him like he was someone worth saving?

He pulls her towards him, wrapping his arms around her tightly, burying his face in her hair. He doesn’t know how to process the range of emotions running through him. 

“You should hate me,” he mutters, his voice hoarse with raw emotion. “You should be afraid.”

Y/N wraps her arms around him in return, holding him just as fiercely. She buries her face in his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of him. 

“I don’t hate you, Max,” she says quietly, her voice quivering slightly. “I love you. okay Max I love you and I don’t know how much longer we have together but as long as I’m with you I’ll keep reminding you that.” Max’s heart clenches at her words, his grip on her tightening. He hadn’t dared hope that she would say that. Not after everything he had done, everything he had been. 

He pulls back slightly so he can look into her eyes. They’re glossy with unshed tears, but her gaze is unflinching, her determination clear. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispers, his voice rough. “You’re too good for me, too pure. I’ll just end up hurting you, or I’ll…” 

He trails off, unable to continue. It was the same fear that had been eating at him since the moment he realized he cared for her. The fear that he would destroy her, tainted her with his darkness. Y/N cups his face in her hands, making him look at her. Her eyes search his, her expression resolute. 

“You don’t get to decide who’s good enough for me,” she tells him firmly. “And I don’t care if you think you’ll hurt me. I can handle it. I’m choosing to be with you.” 

Max leans his head down, resting his forehead against hers. Her words make something deep within him ache. He was used to people leaving him, abandoning him. And yet here she was, throwing herself into the fire for him. 

“You’re the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met,” he mutters, unable to hide the hint of affection in his voice.

Y/N laughs softly, the sound a sweet melody to his ears. “You love it,” she says, a small smile tugging at her lips. 

Max snorts, his lips curving up in a wry grin. And despite the danger lurking on the edges of their happiness, he knows she’s right. He does love it. He loves her.

He pulls her closer, his arms encircling her waist as he buries his face in the crook of her neck. For a moment, they just stand there, holding each other. And in that moment, all the worries, all the dangers seem to melt away. 

Until the sound of footsteps outside the room shattered the fragile peace they had created.

Marco had never liked Max. Marco hated Max’s very existence. The tension between them had been palpable for years, even when Max had been under his father’s roof. Jos had always been the better leader, the more controlled, more calculating of the two. But Marco was ruthless in ways Jos never was.

When Max had left, disappearing into the night without a word, it was Marco’s fury that had been unleashed first. Jos, while angry, had been more patient, biding his time. But Marco? He wanted revenge.

Marco’s first move was to send out his men to track Max’s movements. He had no intention of letting Jos’ son walk away unpunished. Max’s defection had shaken the power dynamic in the family. Marco needed to reassert his dominance, to remind everyone that he was still in charge.

Max had been careful, covering his tracks and using everything he had learned in the mafia world to stay hidden. But Marco’s resources were vast, and his men were killed.

After days of searching, one of Marco’s men finally got a lead. A rumor, a whisper, a sighting. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to set the machine in motion.

Marco got the report late in the afternoon. He read through it slowly, his expression darkening with each word. But when he got to the end, he smiled a cruel, cold smile. 

He knew right where to find Max, and once he had him, there would be hell to pay. That night, a group of Marco’s men were sent to the location where Max and Y/N were staying. They moved with military precision, their footsteps silent, their weapons loaded and ready.

Max was vigilant, his ears straining for any sound that didn’t belong. This was the sort of situation he had been preparing for, and he wasn't going to let his guard down now. Max heard the first sound, a soft scuffle of shoes against gravel. He tensed, his eyes darting to the door. Y/N, dozing on the bed, noticed his sudden tension and sat up.

“What is it?” she whispered, her voice betraying her fear. 

Max didn’t answer. He was listening intently, trying to gauge how many men were outside. He could hear at least three, possibly more. They were circling the building, searching for a point of entry.

Max glanced around the room, his mind racing. They had to get moving, and quickly. His gaze fell on the window, and he silently cursed. It was small, barely big enough for him to fit through. But it would have to do.

“Y/N,” he said quietly, his voice urgent. “Get up. We need to go, now.”

She didn’t question him, knowing now was not the time. She stood, quickly pulling on her shoes. Max moved to the window, quietly pushing it open.

Just then, there was a loud bang on the front door. Marco’s men had found the entrance. Max’s body tensed even further, his jaw clenching. They had seconds if that. Max turned to Y/N and held out his hand. “You first,” he said, his voice a low growl. Y/N didn’t hesitate, she climbed onto the windowsill and squeezed out through the opening.

Max followed, grunting as he had to force his broad shoulders through the narrow space. He dropped to the ground next to Y/N, his eyes on the door. It shook again as someone slammed against it from the other side.

“Stay close to me,” Max muttered, gripping Y/N’s arm. He started to move, keeping to the shadows. They had to reach the woods and the car before Marco’s men could catch them. They had just reached the tree line when the first shots rang out. Max pushed Y/N behind a tree for cover, his body shielding hers. He could hear Marco’s men shouting, their footsteps loud and aggressive.

Max and Y/N moved cautiously through the woods, their steps light but deliberate. They’d been on edge for days, the tension between them rising with every passing hour. Max kept glancing over his shoulder, scanning the tree line.

“This isn’t good,” Max muttered, his voice low. “We’re too exposed out here.”

Y/N stayed close, her hand gripping the strap of her bag. She could feel her heartbeat quicken, the air thick with anxiety.

Suddenly, the faint sound of a twig snapping echoed in the distance, cutting through the quiet night. Max stopped in his tracks, his eyes narrowing. He held up a hand to signal for Y/N to stay silent.

He motioned for her to stay behind a tree while he moved forward, moving like a shadow through the underbrush. His every sense was on high alert now, instincts kicking in. The danger was close, much closer than they had realized.

And then, he saw them.

A group of men, dressed in dark clothing, moved stealthily through the forest. They were too far to be a threat yet, but Max knew it was only a matter of time before they got closer.

Max took a step back, retreating slowly to where Y/N waited. His mind was racing. Marco’s men were on their tail.

“They’re here,” Max said, his voice tight. “We need to move. Now.”

Y/N’s eyes widened. “How many of them?”

“At least five,” Max replied, his voice steady despite the rising tension. “Maybe more. They’ve got us pinned down.”

Marco wasn’t just looking for Max. He was searching for something more. He had learned about Y/N the woman who had been with Max, the one who had caused the shift in him. Marco had heard whispers about her, and he didn’t like what he’d heard.

In his mind, she was a weakness. A liability.

“Find her,” Marco had commanded his men, “and bring her to me. I’ll deal with Max myself. But if she’s as important to him as I think, she’ll be the key to getting him back.”

Marco’s obsession with control meant he couldn’t afford any loose ends, especially not someone who could pull Max away from the life he was supposed to lead.

Max and Y/N moved through the trees, their bodies close, keeping low. The fear was palpable now, but they couldn’t afford to let it consume them. They had to outsmart Marco’s men and get to safety before they were cornered.

Max knew the woods like the back of his hand, but this time, it wasn’t just about survival. This was about protecting Y/N, and that was a different kind of pressure.

They made their way toward a hidden path, hoping to use it as an escape route. But just as they thought they were in the clear, a voice rang out from behind them.

“Max! I know you’re out there.” It was Marco’s voice, smooth and menacing.

Max froze, his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn’t let Marco get to them. Not now, not ever.

He turned to Y/N, his face grim. “Run. I’ll hold them off.”

Y/N grabbed his arm, her grip firm. “We run together, Max. I’m not leaving you.”

Max met her eyes, seeing the fear and determination in her gaze. He knew she wouldn’t back down, but they didn’t have much time.

“We’ll fight our way out,” he said, his voice steady. “Together.”

Sure, let’s continue the scene with Max and Y/N facing Marco’s men. The tension is high as they are cornered, but their bond is stronger than ever. This moment will test their trust in each other and their survival instincts.

Max’s heart raced as the voice of Marco rang out through the woods, sending a chill down his spine. The men were closing in on them, and the space around them seemed to shrink with every passing second.

“Max!” Marco’s voice echoed again, closer this time. “I know you’re out there. You can’t hide forever!”

Y/N’s grip on Max tightened as she tried to keep her breathing steady. The woods, once a place of refuge, now felt like a trap. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, the fear threatening to overtake her, but Max’s steady presence beside her kept her grounded.

“Stay close,” Max murmured, his voice low but firm.

They moved quickly through the trees, but the sound of crunching leaves underfoot told them they weren’t going unnoticed. The pursuit was relentless.

Max knew they didn’t have much time. He had to think fast if they tried to run, they’d be easy targets. But if they could hold their ground for a moment, maybe, just maybe, they could make it out alive.

He looked around, searching for a way out. His eyes landed on an old cabin in the distance. The roof was partially caved in, but it was close enough that they could take refuge there at least for a little while.

“Over there,” Max said, his eyes locking with Y/N’s. “We can make it to that cabin. Stay low. Stick to the shadows.”

Y/N nodded, her face set with determination. She had come this far with Max, and there was no way she was backing down now. Together, they could get through this.

As they darted toward the cabin, a rustling sound broke through the air then the unmistakable sound of footsteps closing in. They were almost there, just a few more yards.

Max’s pulse quickened. He could hear the men behind them, their voices now loud and clear as they gave chase. Marco’s men were skilled, and they weren’t going to stop until they had Max and Y/N in their grasp.

“Don’t stop!” Max urged, his hand gripping Y/N’s as they pushed forward, the cabin getting closer by the second.

But just as they reached the door of the cabin, a sharp voice called out from the trees.

“There they are! Don’t let them get away!”

Max spun around just in time to see two of Marco’s men burst from the trees, guns drawn, closing in on them.

“Shit,” Max muttered under his breath. He didn’t have a choice anymore”he had to make a stand.

He grabbed Y/N’s arm and pulled her behind the cover of the cabin, forcing her to crouch low. He motioned for her to stay still as he pulled out his gun, the weight of it familiar in his hand. His heart pounded in his chest, but he knew what he had to do. Protect her. No matter the cost.

Max peeked around the corner, trying to get a better look at their attackers. He could see two men approaching, their eyes scanning the area. They hadn’t seen them yet, but they were getting closer.

Y/N’s breath was shaky, but she stayed silent, her eyes wide with fear as she watched Max prepare. She could see the tension in his shoulders, the way he was trying to anticipate their next move.

Max squeezed her hand once, reassuring her without words. They had to make this count.

Then, before he could react, the men rounded the corner of the cabin, their guns raised.

Max fired first.

The loud crack of the gunshot echoed through the woods, and one of the men staggered back, clutching his shoulder. The second man didn’t hesitate, immediately returning fire.

Max dove behind the cabin’s decaying wall, pulling Y/N with him. The bullets whizzed by, but they were safe for now, at least behind the cover.

“Stay down,” Max hissed through clenched teeth. His mind raced, looking for a way out. He couldn’t keep fighting here it was a losing battle.

Y/N’s eyes flicked to the gun in Max’s hand, and she nodded. “What’s the plan?”

Max’s gaze shifted toward the trees behind them, calculating his next move. “We’re going to make a run for it. On my mark.”

But before he could finish, he heard the unmistakable sound of boots crunching the leaves behind them. Max’s pulse surged in his chest. He wasn’t sure how many men Marco had sent, but he knew they couldn’t stay here much longer.

He turned to Y/N, his voice quiet but urgent. “We move in three, two”

The words were cut off by a voice—cold and commanding—that sliced through the night.

“You think you can run from me, Max?”

Max’s blood ran cold as Marco stepped into view from the tree line, his dark eyes fixed on them. His expression was calm, almost amused, as though he were merely observing a game he had already won.

Marco was a man who controlled everything he touched, and he would not allow his blood to slip through his fingers.

Max didn’t flinch. “Marco.”

The tension between them was palpable, thick as the air around them. Max stood his ground, his gun raised, but Marco made no move to draw his weapon. His men, however, were ready, guns trained on Max and Y/N.

“You’re making a mistake, Max,” Marco said, his tone almost pitiful. “You can’t escape who you are. You’re mine, boy. Your father’s not here to protect you, and now you’re mine to deal with.”

Max’s grip tightened on his gun, but Y/N moved to stand beside him, her body rigid with fear, yet unwavering. She was ready. “No,” she said, her voice strong. “He’s not yours, Marco. He’s his person now. You don’t control him anymore.”

Marco’s eyes flickered toward her, a dark glint of amusement crossing his face. “And you do you think you’re going to change that? A woman? How sweet. But you’re just as much of a liability as he is.”

Max stepped in front of her, his face hard. “You’ll never touch her, Marco.”

Marco’s smirk faded, his eyes narrowing. “You believe that? You think I won’t do whatever it takes to bring you back? To make you remember who you are?”

Max’s jaw clenched, his hand tightening around his gun. But he didn’t lower it. Not yet.

He knew what Marco wanted—to break him, to remind him of the life he had walked away from. But Max wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Not now. Not when Y/N was by his side.

“You can try, Marco,” Max said, his voice low and steady. “But we’re not going back.”

Marco’s eyes glinted with something darker, more dangerous, as his lips curled into a sinister smile. He had Max exactly where he wanted him: cornered, with nowhere to run. But the fire in Max’s eyes told Marco that this time, things were different.

“You think you’re untouchable?” Marco sneered, slowly circling Max and Y/N like a predator sizing up its prey. His men stood at the ready, watching for any sign of movement. “You’re still my blood. You’re still bound by everything Father taught you. Taught me. Don’t pretend you’ve forgotten where you came from.”

Max held his ground, his gun still aimed at Marco. His pulse thundered in his ears, but his mind was clear. The old Max might have hesitated, might have been tempted by the power Marco offered, but that man was gone. The past was in the past. The present was all that mattered now.

“What do you mean by blood?” Max asked as far as he knew he was Jos’ only son but he also wouldn’t have put it past his father to have affairs with other women before or after he was born. 

“The old man never told you?” Marco says cockily with a chuckle, taking the barrel of the gun and tapping the side of his head with it before pointing it back at the two of them. 

Max’s expression hardened, his mind racing. “What are you talking about, Marco?” he demanded, his voice tight.

Marco’s grin only widened, a mocking glint in his eyes. “Poor little Max, the golden child, left in the dark.” He tapped the side of his head again with the gun, clearly enjoying himself. “Old man Jos never told you he had… extracurriculars?”

Max’s stomach twisted as realization began to creep in. “What are you saying?”

Marco chuckled, lowering the gun slightly as he leaned in closer. “I’m saying, dear brother,” he spat the word with bitterness, “that I’m as much a part of his legacy as you are. The only difference? I was the one left to fend for myself while you got the title, the protection, the kingdom handed to you.”

Max’s jaw clenched, anger flashing across his face. “You think I wanted any of that?”

“Oh, I’m sure you’d rather be in your cozy little bookstore, playing at a normal life,” Marco sneered, “but blood is blood, Max. And whether you like it or not, I’m here to claim my piece.”

Max held Marco’s gaze, searching for any sign that this was some sick joke. But the anger in Marco’s eyes was real, years of resentment boiling to the surface.

“You think you’re entitled to something just because of blood?” Max shot back, his voice cold. “Jos barely treated me like a son. Whatever you think he gave me, it was a curse.”

Marco laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. “Oh, you poor thing. Life in the big house, daddy’s golden boy, all while I grew up in the shadows. Do you know what that does to a person? Watching someone else live the life that should’ve been yours?”

“Nothing about this life was a gift,” Max replied, his voice low and dangerous. “And if you think Jos would have done any better by you, then you didn’t know him at all.”

Marco’s expression darkened, his grip tightening on the gun. “Maybe not. But I know one thing: you don’t deserve to walk away from all this. To pretend you can just leave and play house with your little bookstore.” He spat on the ground. “I clawed my way here, Max. Everything I have, I earned. And I’m not leaving empty-handed.”

Max took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm. “So what’s the plan, Marco? You think you can just waltz in, wave a gun around, and take whatever you think I owe you?”

“Oh, I think I can do a lot more than that.” Marco smirked, stepping closer. “You may have walked away from Jos’ empire, but that leaves it wide open for someone else to take over. Maybe I’m not here for revenge, Max. Maybe I’m here to make you an offer.”

Max raised an eyebrow, skeptical but intrigued. “An offer?”

Marco’s grin was almost feral. “You and me. We take what’s left of the empire, rebuild it, make it ours. All that power, that legacy—it’s in our blood, Max. Think about it.”

For a moment, the weight of Marco’s words hung between them. The idea was tempting in a dark, twisted way—a chance to take control of the very thing that had once controlled him. But Max shook his head, breaking the spell.

“I left that life for a reason,” he said firmly. “I’m not going back, and I sure as hell won’t do it with you.”

Marco’s smile faded, replaced by a look of cold fury. “Then you’re a fool, Max. And if you won’t help me, you’ll wish you had. Because one way or another, I’m taking what’s mine.”

Y/N stood at Max’s side, her hand clenched into a fist. She was terrified, but her trust in Max was unwavering. She had seen the darkness that Max had been through, and she had witnessed the fight inside him to rise above it. This wasn’t the man Marco thought he could control anymore. This was a different Max—a man who had chosen his own path.

Marco’s gaze flickered to her, the hatred clear in his eyes. He knew that Y/N was the root of the problem. She had changed everything for Max—his priorities, his mindset, his resolve. Marco would never allow that.

“You think you’re going to protect her?” Marco laughed coldly. “You think you’re going to keep her safe from me? From us?”

Max took a step forward, narrowing the distance between himself and his uncle. His jaw clenched. “I won’t let you touch her, Marco. Not now. Not ever.”

Marco’s smirk faltered for just a moment, his eyes scanning Max’s face. Then his gaze snapped to the men around them. He nodded once, and they started to advance, inching closer to where Max and Y/N stood.

Max’s mind worked at lightning speed. He wasn’t about to let them get close. He had to get Y/N out of here. He had to protect her.

Without warning, Max fired another shot, taking down one of Marco’s men who had started to raise his weapon. The shot echoed through the night, a violent reminder of the stakes at hand.

“Move!” Max shouted at Y/N, grabbing her arm. They couldn’t stay here. Not now.

She didn’t need any further encouragement. She followed him, her legs pumping as they sprinted toward the trees. Marco’s men were still firing, but Max kept them off-balance, shooting at the trees to force them back.

“Keep running!” Max barked.

They ran as fast as they could, the sound of gunshots ringing in the air around them. Y/N’s breath came out in sharp, panicked gasps, but she stayed close to Max, her trust in him more solid than ever.

Max could feel the weight of every step, the knowledge that they were being hunted pushing him forward. He couldn’t let Marco win. Not now.

As they ran, Max’s thoughts briefly flickered back to the life he had once known—the life his father, Jos, had dragged him into.

The world of the mafia wasn’t a world Max had chosen. He had been born into it, groomed for it, shaped by it. But it was never what he wanted.

Jos had always pushed Max harder than anyone else, forcing him to take on dangerous assignments. There had been jobs that Max had carried out without question—jobs he didn’t want to think about now. There had been a hit in the dead of night on a rival gang leader. Max had pulled the trigger himself, following his father’s orders without a second thought.

Then there had been the night he’d been forced to take care of a traitor—a man who had once been loyal to his family but had turned on them. Max had done what he was told, even when it meant silencing a man who had once been a friend. He had never questioned Jos. He had believed in his father’s vision for the family until the day he realized it wasn’t a vision. It was a prison.

But then came Y/N.

She had been the catalyst. The thing that had shifted everything for Max. The moment he’d saved her, it was as if a new path had opened before him a path that wasn’t dictated by bloodlines or mafia codes. A path that was free of Marco’s influence. A path that was his own.

The small house that Max had found was tucked away on the outskirts of town, hidden by the dense trees. They reached it just as the sound of the vehicles grew louder, the engines rumbling through the night like a looming storm. Max quickly led Y/N inside, locking the door behind them with practiced ease.

He glanced out of the window, his fingers brushing over the gun in his jacket. He knew they didn’t have much time. He had learned to read the patterns of Marco’s men—how they moved, how they searched—but this time, it felt different. The air was thicker, the pressure mounting with every passing minute.

Y/N sat down on the rickety old couch, trying to calm her nerves, but the weight of the situation was wearing on her. She looked over at Max, who was pacing in front of the window, his eyes focused on the road that led into the woods.

“Max…” she said softly, her voice breaking through the silence. “I know you’re scared. I can see it. But you don’t have to do this alone.”

Max froze, his back stiffening. He didn’t turn around immediately, but after a long moment, he finally faced her, his expression unreadable. His gaze softened slightly, though the tension was still palpable.

“You don’t get it, Y/N,” he said, his voice low and rough. “I’ve spent my whole life doing things I can’t take back. I’ve hurt people, ruined lives—all for my family, for the empire. But none of that matters now. All that matters is you.”

He took a step closer, his eyes searching hers for understanding. “If anything happens to you, I won’t be able to live with myself. I don’t care about anything else anymore. I just want you safe. Away from this mess.”

Tears welled up in Y/N’s eyes as she stood up, closing the distance between them. She could see the inner turmoil in his eyes—the battle he was fighting between the man he had been and the man he wanted to be. She reached out, touching his cheek gently.

“You don’t have to carry this burden alone,” she whispered, her thumb brushing away a stray tear that had escaped down his face. “I’m here, Max. I’m not going anywhere.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, Max allowed himself to lean into her touch. His shoulders sagged, the weight of everything pressing down on him. He had spent so long running from his past, trying to protect her from it, that he hadn’t stopped to let her in. But now, in this moment, with Marco’s men closing in, he realized something.

He couldn’t keep fighting this battle alone. Not anymore.

The moonlight filtered through the cracks in the dense woods as Max and Y/N made their way through the forest, their footsteps muffled by the thick blanket of fallen leaves. Max’s eyes darted back and forth, scanning the area, his senses heightened. He could hear the distant hum of engines and the faint crackle of radio chatter. Marco’s men were closing in, and they had to keep moving.

Y/N stayed close to him, her breath shallow as she clutched onto Max’s jacket, her face pale but resolute. She could feel the tension radiating off of him. She’d never seen him like this before—so focused, so fierce. He wasn’t just trying to protect her; he was fighting a battle within himself. She could sense the weight of his past pushing against the choices he was trying to make for their future.

“Max we can’t keep running like this,” Y/N whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the wind rustling through the trees. “We need a plan. We can’t outrun them forever.”

Max didn’t answer right away, his jaw clenched as he led her further into the woods, pushing through the underbrush with urgency. He knew she was right. But how could he make a plan when everything felt like it was slipping through his fingers? Marco and his men weren’t just after him anymore. They were after both of them. And the only thing standing between Y/N and them was Max’s desperation to keep her safe.

“We’ll figure it out,” Max finally muttered, his voice strained. “Just trust me, okay?”

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and determination. She had always known Max had a dark past, but seeing him like this”so different from the man she first met”tugged at her heart. She wanted to believe they could escape this life, but the more she saw of Max’s world, the more she realized how deeply entrenched he was.

“Max, please,” she urged, her grip tightening on his arm. “We need to talk. You’re not just running from them. You’re running from yourself.”

Max’s heart clenched at her words, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he motioned for her to follow him down a narrow path that led to a small clearing ahead. He could see the glimmer of headlights cutting through the darkness—Marco’s men were getting closer. He needed to get them to the safe house he had prepared, and he needed to get there fast.

Suddenly, the sound of tires screeching to a halt outside somewhere in the woods jerked Max out of his thoughts. His eyes went wide, and in one fluid motion, he reached for his gun, his heart racing. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she stepped back, realizing the time had come.

Max turned to face her, his face hardening. “Stay behind me,” he ordered, his voice steely. “No matter what happens, don’t move.”

Y/N nodded, her hands trembling as she pressed herself against the wall. She could hear the sounds of footsteps outside, the distinct thud of boots crunching on gravel.

The door burst open without warning, and in stepped Marco, flanked by several of his men. His face was cold, calculating, as he looked around the small cabin.

“Well, well… Max,” Marco’s voice dripped with disdain. “I was hoping we could do this the easy way. But it looks like we’re doing it the hard way, after all.”

Max didn’t flinch. He stood his ground, his eyes never leaving Marco’s. The gun in his hand was steady, though the tension in his body was anything but.

“This ends tonight, Marco,” Max said, his voice low, but his words cutting through the air like a blade. “You’re not going to take her from me. I won’t let you.”

Marco chuckled, a mocking sound that echoed in the cabin. “You really think you can stop me? You’ve been running from your past, Max. You can’t outrun the family. You can’t outrun me.”

Max’s jaw clenched, his hand tightening around the gun. “I don’t care about the family anymore. I don’t care about the empire. I care about her. And if you think for one second that I’ll let you destroy that… you’re wrong.”

Max’s heart pounded as he faced off against Marco, his father’s enforcer and the one man who had haunted him for years. Marco’s cold smirk was gone, replaced by a steely determination that Max knew all too well. For Marco, this was a matter of principle, a ruthless reminder that no one—especially not Jos’ son—could turn his back on the family.

“You’ve always thought you were better than this life,” Marco sneered, circling Max like a predator sizing up its prey. “But you’re a fool if you think you can escape it. It’s in your blood, Max. It always will be.”

Max held his ground, his body tense. “I’m nothing like you, Marco. Nothing like my father.”

Marco’s gaze darkened, his voice dripping with contempt. “Then why are you still here, trying to protect her?” He nodded toward Y/N, who was still hidden in the shadows, her eyes wide as she watched the scene unfold. “If you cared about her, you’d know you’re putting her life on the line.”

Max’s grip tightened on his gun, his jaw clenching. “I am protecting her. I’m protecting her from people like you.”

Marco laughed, a harsh, humorless sound. “You can’t protect her from this world, Max. You were born into it, and now, so is she. You’ve made her a part of this, and there’s no escaping it.”

With a slight nod, Marco signaled his men to close in, their weapons raised. Max’s pulse raced, but he refused to back down. He had to think fast, act faster. The exit was blocked, and the only way out was through Marco and his men.

“Stay back, Y/N!” Max called over his shoulder. He didn’t dare take his eyes off Marco, but he could feel Y/N’s gaze on him, her fear mixed with determination.

But Y/N didn’t listen. She stepped out from behind the crates, her eyes flashing with defiance. “I’m not leaving you, Max.”

“Y/N—” Max started, but it was too late.

Marco raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Look at this—loyalty. Almost touching, isn’t it?”

Max’s patience snapped. He lunged forward, his fists colliding with Marco’s chest as they grappled. Marco’s men sprang into action, but Y/N, summoning every ounce of courage, threw herself into the fray, grabbing a fallen pipe from the floor and swinging it at one of Marco’s henchmen. The man staggered back, momentarily stunned, giving Max a moment to break free of Marco’s grip.

“Run!” Max shouted to Y/N, but she stayed put, her eyes blazing with determination. Together, they fought, their movements almost in sync as they faced down Marco and his men. Max knew they couldn’t hold out forever, but they had to try.

Marco, recovering quickly, let out a snarl. “You’re just delaying the inevitable, Max. We’ll hunt you down. Both of you.”

Max ignored him, his focus razor-sharp as he dodged another attack. They moved toward the exit, inch by inch, fighting off anyone who got in their way. But then, just as they neared the door, Marco raised his gun, aiming it directly at Y/N.

Max’s heart stopped. In that split second, everything slowed down.

“No!” he shouted, throwing himself in front of Y/N just as the gun went off. The shot echoed through the room, and pain seared through his shoulder. But he didn’t stop—he couldn’t. He pushed Y/N toward the door, his vision blurring as he fought to stay conscious.

“Go, Y/N!” he gasped, his voice hoarse with pain. “Get to the car!”

Y/N hesitated, her face pale with fear, but she nodded, her eyes filled with tears. She sprinted toward the car, her heart pounding as she heard the sounds of the struggle behind her.

Max stumbled after her, his hand pressed to his bleeding shoulder, but he refused to fall. He refused to let Marco win. With a final burst of strength, he reached the car and collapsed into the driver’s seat, slamming the door just as Y/N hit the gas.

They sped away, leaving Marco and his men in the dust, but the weight of what had just happened hung heavy between them.

As they drove through the night, Max leaned back, trying to catch his breath. The pain in his shoulder was agonizing, but he forced himself to focus, to stay conscious. Y/N’s hands gripped the steering wheel, her face a mixture of fear and worry as she glanced over at him.

“You’re hurt,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

Max forced a faint smile. “I’ll live.”

But the truth was, he didn’t know how much longer they could keep running. They were in deeper than he’d ever anticipated, and Marco wouldn’t stop until he had them both.

“Max…” Y/N’s voice was barely a whisper. “Why did you do it? Why did you risk everything for me?”

Max met her gaze, his expression softening despite the pain. “Because you’re worth it. Because… because for the first time in my life, I have something real. Something worth fighting for.”

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears, but she smiled, reaching over to take his hand. They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their situation sinking in.

Finally, Max spoke, his voice filled with determination. “We’re going to get through this, Y/N. I don’t know how, but we will.”

Back at the hideout, Marco paced furiously, his face twisted with rage. His men were scattered, licking their wounds, but the real wound was to his pride. Max had defied him—and worse, he had escaped.

Jos’ voice echoed in Marco’s head, a reminder of the family’s iron rule: No one leaves. No one defies us.

But Marco was not one to give up easily. He knew Max would be on the run, hiding in the shadows. And he knew exactly where to look.

“Spread out,” he ordered his men, his voice cold and unwavering. “Find them. And bring them back alive. I want Max to see what happens to those who betray the family.”

Marco’s men nodded, their faces grim as they set off into the night. They knew the consequences of failure all too well.

As dawn broke, Max and Y/N pulled into a small, run-down motel on the edge of town. Y/N helped Max inside, guiding him to a bed where he could rest. She quickly set to work cleaning his wound, her hands gentle but determined.

As she worked, Max studied her face, his heart aching with a mixture of love and guilt. He had dragged her into a world of danger, into a life she didn’t deserve. But he also knew he couldn’t let her go.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. “I’m sorry… for everything.”

Y/N looked up, her eyes fierce. “Don’t you dare apologize, Max. You saved me. You’ve protected me. And I chose to be here with you.”

Max’s heart swelled, and he reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “We’re going to have to disappear. Go somewhere Marco and my father can’t find us.”

Y/N nodded, her expression resolute. “Then that’s what we’ll do. We’ll leave all of this behind.”

For the first time, a glimmer of hope sparked between them. They had a long road ahead, but together, they had a chance.

As Max lay back, drifting into a restless sleep, he thought about the life he was leaving behind—the family, the power, the legacy. It was a life he had never wanted, a world he was finally breaking free from.

But he knew that as long as Jos and Marco were out there, they would never stop coming for him and Y/N. They would always be looking over their shoulders, always running. Unless Max found a way to end it once and for all.

When he awoke, Max knew what he had to do. It was risky, and it might cost him everything. But he would do it, for Y/N, for their future.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice filled with a new resolve. “It’s time to end this.”

She looked at him, understanding in her eyes. “What are we going to do?”

Max took her hand, a spark of determination in his gaze. “We’re going to take down Marco. And then we’re going to be free.”

Max and Y/N knew they couldn’t do this alone. Marco was cunning, ruthless, and had a network of men at his disposal. But Max also knew that not everyone in his father’s organization was loyal to Marco. Some were just like him, caught in a world they never wanted to be a part of, bound by fear rather than loyalty.

Max glanced over at Y/N, who was leaning over a map, marking down possible locations where they could corner Marco and his men. The determination in her eyes was unmistakable. She wasn’t just in this to survive; she was ready to fight back.

“I know someone who might be able to help us,” Max said, breaking the silence.

Y/N looked up, curiosity in her eyes. “Who?”

“An old friend of mine, Victor. He was part of the family but left years ago. He managed to disappear and stay under the radar. If anyone knows how to avoid Marco’s reach—and take him down—it’s him.”

Y/N nodded, hope sparking in her expression. “Do you think he’ll help us?”

Max hesitated, memories of Victor flashing through his mind. They’d gone through a lot together, but things had soured when Victor left, realizing he couldn’t stomach the violence or the lack of control over his own life. Max had respected him for it, but he’d stayed behind, tied by his loyalty to his father.

“He’ll help us,” Max said finally. “If he knows what’s at stake, he’ll come through.”

A few days later, Max and Y/N arrived at an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. It was one of the few places Victor trusted for clandestine meetings, and Max hoped his old friend still frequented it.

The place was dark and eerily quiet, the air thick with dust and the faint scent of oil. Max’s nerves were on edge as they waited, his hand instinctively hovering near his weapon.

After what felt like an eternity, they heard footsteps approaching. A tall figure emerged from the shadows, his face partially hidden beneath the brim of a worn baseball cap. As he stepped into the light, Max recognized him immediately—Victor, looking older but just as intense as he remembered.

“Max,” Victor greeted him, his tone cautious. His gaze shifted to Y/N, and he raised an eyebrow. “And you must be the reason Marco has been tearing the city apart looking for him.”

Y/N managed a faint smile. “I guess you could say that.”

Victor let out a dry chuckle, but there was a seriousness in his eyes. “You’ve stirred up a lot of trouble, Max. Marco’s men are everywhere. And Jos—well, he’s none too pleased with his son running around with a civilian.”

Max’s expression hardened. “I don’t care what he thinks. I’m done with all of it. We’re here because we need to end this.”

Victor studied him, his expression unreadable. “You’re asking for a death wish, Max. Going after Marco—going after your father, no less—that’s no small feat.”

“I know,” Max said, his voice steady. “But I can’t keep running, Victor. They won’t stop coming after us unless we make it impossible for them to do so.”

Victor’s gaze softened slightly, and he nodded. “All right. If you’re sure about this, I’ll help. But you need a solid plan, one that’ll keep you two alive.”

Y/N stepped forward, determination in her eyes. “We’re ready to fight. Just tell us what we need to do.”

With Victor’s help, Max and Y/N began to formulate a plan. They would lure Marco into a trap, using a location that could be easily controlled. The plan was risky, but it was their best chance of catching him off-guard.

Victor explained that there was an old factory on the outskirts of the city”one that had been abandoned for years and was seldom monitored. It was isolated enough that Marco wouldn’t suspect an ambush, but contained enough that they could limit his escape routes.

They would spread false information, leading Marco to believe that Max and Y/N were hiding out there, vulnerable and unprotected. When Marco showed up with his men, they’d be ready for him.

Max was acutely aware of the danger they were putting themselves in, but he was resolute. He looked over at Y/N, who nodded, her expression fierce. She was just as committed to this as he was.

Victor took out a map, marking down escape routes, vantage points, and ambush spots. “This is going to take perfect timing. If Marco suspects anything, he’s going to lose it. He's like a rabid dog with a bone you have to make it believable. 

“Oh it’ll be believable alright” Max says and the two exchange an handshake. 

As night fell, Max, Y/N, and Victor moved into the abandoned factory. The air was thick with dust, and the metal beams overhead groaned with age. Victor led them to the second floor, a vantage point that would give them a clear view of the ground level where Marco’s men would likely enter. They positioned themselves near the shadows, hidden but ready.

Max and Y/N exchanged a tense look. This wasn’t just about surviving the night; it was about putting an end to Marco’s threat for good. But they both knew that once the trap was set, there would be no turning back.

Victor knelt beside them, going over the plan one last time. “I’ll handle the detonators for the traps we set by the entrances. It should keep most of his men occupied, but Marco will be harder to take down. He’ll be looking for you, Max.”

Max nodded. “We just need to make sure he doesn’t walk out of here. This ends tonight.”

Y/N placed a hand on Max’s arm, her eyes soft but determined. “We’re ready. Whatever happens, we do this together.”

Max gave her a small smile, his gaze steady. “Together.”

It didn’t take long for the sound of approaching vehicles to echo through the empty factory. Max felt a chill run down his spine as he saw the headlights piercing through the darkness outside. Marco had brought more men than they’d anticipated, but it was too late to change the plan. He and Y/N exchanged a tense look as they heard the doors slam and the muffled voices of Marco’s men.

Victor caught Max’s eye and nodded, signaling that he was ready. He held the detonator for the traps they had rigged by the entrances, ready to trigger them as soon as Marco’s men entered.

From their vantage point, Max and Y/N watched as Marco strode in, his expression steely and focused. He was flanked by several armed men, their gazes scanning the factory’s dim interior.

“Spread out,” Marco ordered, his voice cold. “They’re here somewhere. I want them alive.”

Max held his breath as Victor pressed the first detonator. A loud explosion rocked the factory, and smoke filled the air. Marco’s men were thrown off balance, some of them stumbling backward as the entrance filled with dust and debris.

Using the distraction, Max and Y/N moved silently down a side staircase, making their way closer to the ground level where Marco was recovering from the blast.

Marco’s voice cut through the chaos. “You think you can take me down, Max?” he shouted, his tone mocking. “You’re just as foolish as your mother. You’re weak.”

Max clenched his jaw, the mention of his mother igniting a fury he’d kept buried. He stepped out from the shadows, his gaze locked on Marco.

“No, Marco,” Max said, his voice steady. “I’m nothing like you. And I’m ending this.”

Marco laughed, a cold, twisted sound. “Go ahead, Max. Let’s see if you have what it takes.”

Marco raised his gun, but before he could fire, Y/N moved in from the side, aiming and pulling the trigger. The shot hit one of Marco’s men square in the chest, sending him sprawling. Max took advantage of the moment, lunging forward and tackling Marco to the ground.

They grappled fiercely, years of anger and resentment pouring out in each punch. Marco fought back with a strength that took Max by surprise, but Max’s resolve was unbreakable. He was fighting not only for himself, but for Y/N and the life he wanted to build with her.

Victor took down another one of Marco’s men, shouting to Max and Y/N to fall back as more reinforcements arrived. But Max refused to let go of Marco, his hands clenched tightly around his collar.

Marco’s gaze held a glint of something unsettling”a confidence that sent a chill through Max. “You really think you can escape your father’s shadow? That you can just walk away from this life?”

Max’s grip tightened. “Watch me.”

Just as Marco started to pull away, Victor tossed Max a knife, and with one swift motion, Max drove it into Marco’s side. Marco’s eyes widened in shock, the fight draining from him as he fell back against the floor, his breathing ragged.

“You could have been great, Max,” he gasped, his voice barely a whisper. “You were always meant for this.”

Max knelt beside him, his expression hardened. “I’ll be great, Marco. Just not in the way you or father wanted.”

Marco’s gaze dimmed as he breathed his last, his reign of terror finally ending. Victor, catching his breath, nodded to Max and Y/N, signaling that it was time to go before any more of Jos’s men arrived.

As they ran through the factory, the weight of what they had just done hit them. They had defeated Marco, but Max knew that his father would come looking for them eventually. This fight wasn’t over”not entirely. But for the first time, he felt hope.

Max and Y/N drove through the night, the reality of their escape sinking in as the city faded in their rearview mirror. They didn’t know what the future held or where they would go, but they knew they were finally free.

As dawn broke over the horizon, Y/N reached for Max’s hand, her fingers lacing through his. “We did it,” she whispered, her voice filled with disbelief and relief.

Max squeezed her hand, a faint smile crossing his face. “Yeah, we did.”

With Marco gone, they had a chance”a real chance”to live the life they wanted. And though Jos’ shadow still loomed, Max was prepared to face whatever came next, as long as he had Y/N by his side.

For now, they would drive until they reached a place where no one knew their names, where they could start fresh. Together, they would forge a new path, one free from the violence and darkness of Max’s past.

The road stretched out before them, endless and full of possibility. And for the first time, Max felt at peace, knowing that he had finally broken free.

Max and Y/N eventually found themselves in a quiet coastal town, a place with winding streets and charming old buildings nestled near the sea. It was far enough from the city and all the memories that came with it. They rented a small, modest apartment overlooking the water, where they hoped they could finally start fresh.

The first few weeks were quiet, filled with long walks on the beach, lazy mornings over coffee, and late nights spent talking about dreams and regrets. It was a life Max had never thought possible, a life he didn’t know he could have. For once, they felt safe, wrapped in the peace of anonymity.

But the shadows of Max’s past weren’t so easily left behind. The tension, the feeling of being watched”it crept back slowly, chipping away at the calm they’d built.

One night, as they were walking back from a small restaurant by the shore, Max noticed a familiar black car parked just down the street. His stomach knotted. He hadn’t seen that car in years, but he knew it”one of his father’s old vehicles.

Y/N noticed his change in demeanor. “Max? Is everything okay?”

Max clenched his jaw, trying to keep his voice steady. “Let’s get back to the apartment.”

They made it back to the apartment, locking every door and window. Max peered outside, watching the car until it finally disappeared down the road. Y/N was by his side, her hand resting on his shoulder, grounding him in the present.

“Do you think it’s your father?” Y/N asked quietly.

Max exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. But if he’s found us here, we’re not safe.”

Just then, his phone buzzed. It was a number he didn’t recognize, but something told him to answer. He took a deep breath, lifting the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

A familiar voice spoke, low and menacing. “Max. You didn’t really think you could run forever, did you?”

It was Jos.

Max felt a chill run through him. His father’s voice was calm, calculating, as if this were just another business call.

“What do you want?” Max asked, his voice tense.

Jos chuckled softly. “What I’ve always wanted, son. I want you to come back. I’ll forget your disloyalty, if you return now. But this woman”she’s distracting you. She’s a weakness.”

Max’s grip on the phone tightened. “I’m not coming back, and Y/N is none of your concern.”

Jos sighed, his tone turning cold. “You’re making a mistake, Max. You’re my blood. And blood never betrays family. But if you insist on keeping her, you know what happens to liabilities.”

With that, the line went dead.

Max lowered the phone, his heart pounding. He looked at Y/N, who watched him anxiously. “It was my father. he knows we’re here. And he’s not going to stop.”

Max and Y/N knew they had to leave the town immediately. But this time, they couldn’t just run blindly. They needed a plan, something that would allow them to disappear for good. Max realized they would need help to outsmart his father”a network, a way to stay hidden and off the grid.

That night, they packed their bags, taking only the essentials. Max reached out to Victor, sending him a coded message asking for help. They arranged to meet in a secluded spot, a few miles away, where Victor would bring supplies and information.

Before they left, Y/N placed a hand on Max’s arm, her voice soft but strong. “No matter what happens, I’m with you. We’ll get through this.”

Max pulled her into an embrace, his voice steady but filled with determination. “I’ll keep you safe. No matter what.”

They drove through the night, finally arriving at a remote gas station where Victor was waiting. He stood near his car, a heavy duffel bag by his feet, watching the road with caution.

Max and Y/N got out of the car, approaching him. Victor gave them a nod. “Looks like you two could use some supplies”and a new plan.”

Max ran a hand through his hair, exhausted but grateful. “You have no idea. My father he’s found us. He’s not going to let us go so easily.”

Victor handed Max the duffel bag, filled with burner phones, fake IDs, cash, and a list of contacts who could help them along the way. “This should buy you some time. But you need to move fast.”

Y/N thanked Victor, her voice filled with genuine gratitude. “You’re risking a lot to help us. We won’t forget this.”

Victor gave her a small smile. “Max was there for me when I needed it. Just consider this payback.”

Before they left, Victor placed a hand on Max’s shoulder. “One more thing ”you need to think about how far you’re willing to go. Jos isn’t going to stop. You might have to consider taking him out.”

Max’s expression darkened. He had known, deep down, that his father would never let him go. But hearing it out loud made it real.

“I understand,” he said quietly. “Thank you, Victor.”

Victor nodded, watching as Max and Y/N got back into their car, their new identities hidden in the duffel bag. As they drove off, Max couldn’t shake Victor’s words. The idea of facing his father felt impossible, but he knew that eventually, they’d have no other choice.

For weeks, Max and Y/N kept moving, using new names in each town, keeping to small motels and out-of-the-way diners. They became adept at disappearing, slipping into the background of each new place. But as careful as they were, Jos’ men kept finding them, each encounter a reminder that they were never truly safe.

Finally, they received a message from Victor. “He’s coming for you himself, Max. It’s time to end this.”

Max looked at Y/N, his heart heavy but resolved. “It’s him or us. I can’t keep running from him. We’ll make our stand here.”

Y/N placed her hand over his, her eyes fierce. “Then let’s end this together.”

In a darkened alleyway that night, Max and Y/N waited. They heard the footsteps, the unmistakable sound of Jos’ voice. This was the final confrontation the moment when Max would either free himself or be bound to his past forever.

As Jos appeared, flanked by his men, Max stepped forward, his gaze unwavering. “It’s over, Dad. You can’t control me anymore.”

Jos’ expression was a mix of anger and something almost like disappointment. “You were always my successor, Max. But you betrayed me. And for what? A woman?”

Max shook his head. “For freedom. For love. For a life that you never gave me.”

In a swift movement, the fight began. Max and Y/N fought with everything they had, each strike a testament to their will to survive. And as dawn broke, they stood victorious, finally free from Jos’ grip.

In the end, Max and Y/N left the city, driving toward a new horizon. They had endured more than most could imagine, but they had come out of it stronger, bound by trust and love.

As they drove into the distance, Y/N leaned over, resting her head on Max’s shoulder. “It’s finally over.”

Max took her hand, a quiet smile crossing his face. “Yeah. We’re finally free.”

They didn’t know what the future held, but they knew one thing: they would face it together, no longer haunted by the past.

One year later 

In a small, sunny coastal town far from the chaos of their past, Max and Y/N settled into a new life together. They’d both embraced the quiet simplicity of it—the kind of life neither of them thought they’d ever have.

Max and Y/N married in a small, private ceremony, just a handful of close friends gathered to celebrate. There were no grand gestures, no lavish displays”just the two of them, standing hand in hand, promising to share a life of peace and devotion. For Max, it was the ultimate vow of freedom, a declaration that he was no longer bound by his family’s legacy.

Over time, they built their own family. They had two children, a boy and a girl, who became the center of their world. Max was a devoted father, often surprising Y/N with how patient and tender he was with their children. Watching him with them, she knew he’d truly left his past behind, pouring his energy into being the father he’d never had.

To make a living, Max chose a career that allowed him to use his skills for good. He became a mechanic, running a small garage where he fixed cars and occasionally helped neighbors with any odd jobs. He found he enjoyed the work”it was honest, straightforward, and gave him a sense of satisfaction he’d never known before.

Max had always been good with his hands, and he took pride in running his business ethically, treating each customer with respect. In a way, his garage became a place where people came not only to fix their cars but to catch up with him and Y/N, who would often stop by with their kids. Their life was simple, grounded, and filled with small joys.

There were still moments when the shadows of their past would resurface”an unexpected noise, a stranger’s lingering look. But Max and Y/N had learned to hold each other close during those times, grounding each other with gentle reminders of the life they’d built.

Their children grew up knowing nothing of the dangers their parents had faced. Max and Y/N wanted it that way; they wanted their kids to live without fear, surrounded by love and stability. They spent weekends by the shore, watching their children play in the sand, building castles and laughing freely.

In the quiet of those moments, Max would look at Y/N and feel a deep gratitude for the life they’d created together. It was a life free from the violence and tension that had once defined him, and he knew he had her to thank for giving him the courage to embrace it.

As the years passed, Max and Y/N continued to build their lives in the small town, becoming a beloved part of the community. They hosted neighborhood gatherings, watched their children grow, and celebrated every milestone, no matter how small.

For Max, this life wasn’t just a new beginning”it was redemption. He’d found a purpose beyond survival, a love that had healed his old wounds. And in the warmth of his family, he had finally found peace.

[mossyivy]

how about a desperate almost ex-husband leon being extremely needy and trying to get his wife back not to divorce him

Anon, idk who you are but you better become a regular if these are the ideas you throw into my ask box. I took liberty in picking which Leon would best fit and I just... It's Vendetta. I'm sorry, wet street rat Leon just stinks of desperation and in need of attention.

Also I am so sorry this took ages to get to you. I've been on break and was going through it. Hopefully it was worth the wait 🤍

Slight NSFW/Alluding to Sex

Not edited/Proof Read

"Please baby, I miss you..." You listen to the last few garbled words from the old voicemail. You hadn't seen or heard from him in a month. No calls, texts, letters or even the occasional flowers or muffin basket he'd have delivered to your office.

You know you shouldn't miss him. The divorce was for a good reason. Or at least it was supposed to be. You still loved him, he still loved you, but his absence was getting to you. You knew who you were marrying, a government agent who wasn't home as often as he wanted to be. You were left to your own devices often. Left with friends. Friends who talked. Talked about how neglectful he seemed to be. You defended him with your life, knowing the good man he was and still is. They picked him apart in secret, threw his flaws out for display like some kind of rotting carcass you'd see on the side of the road.

But eventually they got into your head about deserving better. So, against all the arguing or begging on his end you asked for a divorce and filed. That was a few months ago. He's not even officially moved out of the apartment you two share yet but you're adamant on being separated.

He on the other hand is trying to hold on for as long as possible. At least you thought he was. He left for work over a month ago and you knew he was back. No state marshall or sheriff showed up to tell you he died.

Maybe he was trying to respect your distance and keep away finally. But then Jill sent you the E-vite...

One of the worst parts of divorcing Leon was you having the same friends. You were both civil. No one took anyone's side so you'd both be invited places, even after the separation. You take in a deep breath, knowing he'd definitely be at this dinner party. It was going to be a struggle but you're a big girl. You can handle anything.

Sucking it up, you step out of your car, fixing your dress in place as you look up at the condominium. Seeing the lights on the shared rooftop space gleaming against the dusk sky. It didn't take long for you to push the door open at the top of the stairs seeing everyone dressed in semi-formal attire. Long puffy sleeves swaying as you pull at the gold locket hanging above the sweetheart neckline. The end of you dress puffing out and brushing lightly against your opaque black pantyhose covered knees. Heels clicking against the concrete of the roof as someone calls out to you.

"Hey! Glad you could make it." Claire, one of the hosts, walks out a small group of people in her dark pink dress. She wraps you in a tight hug looking you up and down.

"Thanks for inviting me!" You look around the crowds of people trying to decipher who's here.

"Last time I saw him was with Chris like half an hour ago. He showed up early." Claire knew who you were looking for. You give her an appreciative nod and tell her you'll be doing your rounds to be polite.

After grabbing a glass of wine you start making your rounds. Feet starting to hurt from your heels, they always killed your ankles. Stepping to the side you bump into another guest and spill red wine on yourself. Turning you see Rebecca with her mouth open, shocked expression on her face, clutching the front of her green dress.

"I'm so sorry," she frantically steps over, examining the blotch of dark red on your dress, "Jill and Claire probably have soda water at their place. Why don't you go ask?"

You quickly find Claire, desperate to not let this stain stick.

"Just head down to the condo. Jill's down there babysitting dinner. It should be done soon actually." You nod, heading down to the condo quickly. Knocking on the door you hear loud footsteps coming towards the door. The door swings open, Chris looking down at you in his charcoal gray suit.

"Oh hey. You finally showed." You smirk, smacking his shoulder before going in for a tight hug. Squeezing you in his arms he lifts you, pulling you through the threshold of the condo. The door shuts as he walks towards the kitchen, setting you down in the doorway. Jill turning her head from the stove. Wearing a dark blue pantsuit.

"Hey!" Dropping the wooden spoon onto the stove she walks over, hugging you tightly. She looks down at your dress noticing the wine spot. "Oh God. It looks like you were shot."

"Red wine and Rebecca."

"Ah. Let me get you something for that."

Jill starts searching the cabinets as Chris leans against the kitchen island, arms crossed over his chest.

"How've you been with... Everything?" Chris grabs his beer off the counter, taking a leisurely sip. Watching Jill out of the corner of his eye.

"I can't complain."

"Yeah you can. You're getting a divorce. Can't be easy."

"Chris." Jill shoots him a nasty glare, standing up straight with a bottle of soda water and a cloth.

"What!? I can't be blunt with her now?" Jill sighs, sliding the stuff across the island to you, watching you grab them.

"You can use the guest bathroom. Our main one is being worked on. It's down the hall to the right. Dinners done so just head upstairs when you're ready."

"Thanks." You nod, walking past them both and down the hall and into the guest room. You don't flick the light on, walking through the moonlight cover room to the door and push your way in. Starting to work on the stain on your dress after. Blotting the wine out slowly, taking your time to draw it out. Working the wine out you look at yourself in the mirror.

Tired eyes covered by concealing makeup and a fake sense of happiness. You really haven't slept well in weeks, since the filing. It was weird going back home alone. A knock startles you out of your staring. You quickly access the damage, deeming your work satisfactory enough. Opening the door you're met with dark circles under icy blue eyes. Stubble surrounding plump rosy lips as he gasps.

Now face to face with your soon-to-be ex-husband.

"Hey..."

"Hey." You two stare at each other for a moment, no one knowing what to say exactly. So you start cleaning up and rinsing the rag.

"I'll be out of your way in a second."

"Take your time." He assures, putting a hand on your lower back as he passes you and steps to the towel cabinet, sliding one of the drawers open and looking for something. You continue to rinse the rag, watching him in your peripherals as he searches. Wearing his old dark blue suit and a white button up open enough to show off his collar bones.

The silence is so awkward you could feel your toes curling in your heels.

"You look good." He speaks looking at you, you shut the sink off looking in his direction with a small smile.

"Thank you." you look him up and down. Taking in the appearance of him being dressed up for once. You always liked him cleaned up. "You look like a nightclub owner."

He chuckles, smiling as he grabs a box of bandaids from the drawer, shutting it with his hip as he starts reaching inside the box.

"You hurt yourself?" The old tinge of worry hits you as he starts walking towards you, presumably leaving.

"Just a little cut. Tried to catch a knife and it didn't work out." He shows his left palm, a cut along the side of his thumb, still bleeding.

"Jesus Lee..." You turn the sink back on and make him shove his hand under the cold water to slow the bleeding. You start washing the blotch of blood already dried on his palm as he just lets you. You're delicate hands scrubbing the shell shaped soap across his paler palm compared to the slight tan of his skin. You feel his right arm move and slide around you, hand on your waist like it's still so natural as he fixes to your side.

You stare at his hand, watching the bleeding slow as you rinse his palm. But you finally notice he's wearing his wedding ring still. The black band that matches yours sitting at home in your jewelry box, collecting dust when it could be getting pawned like your friends suggested. But you've grown attached to it, even if it is a constant reminder of what was. You shake the feeling, turning the faucet off and grabbing the hand towel to dry the area.

"You know, I can do this myself right?" You look up at your reflections in the mirror, it's almost like he's watching you over your shoulder with how close he is. His eyes watching your every action so lovingly. It makes you smile and forget that you shouldn't be feeling butterflies in your stomach right now.

"You never do it right." You tease, feeling his chest press against your shoulder and back. Notes of citrus and buttery sandalwood touch your nose. Making his noticeable lean over your shoulder almost forgiveable as you apply the bandage on his hand. You feel his nose brush against your ear as you throw the wrappers in the tiny trashcan next to the sink.

"Leon... No." His hand squeezed gently as it moves down to your hip, he takes a slow breath in. Letting the scent of your perfume and shampoo fill his senses completely.

"I miss you..." His voice is so soft, his breath against your ear makes a bolt of electricity shoot up your spine and your skin tingle. Goosebumps forming over your arms as you side step away from him. Looking at him again, his eyes look filled with desperation as he tries closing the gap again.

"I've been thinking about you nonstop for the past month." You paw at the bathroom doorknob, opening the door and slipping into the guest bedroom. He quickly follows you into the dim lighting.

"I'm seeing a therapist now." You glance at him, turning away as you try making a break for it.

"Good for you." You misjudge your step and smack your foot against the table next to the door, twisting your ankle in the process. Immediately, you hunch over to grab your ankle and whine in pain.

"Baby..." He leans down looking at your ankle as it starts to swell already. "Come here."

Quickly you're lifted off your feet and being carried over to the bed, reminiscent of your wedding night. Leon sits, putting your legs over his lap.

"You know these heels are bad on your ankles." His hands slight over your heel, pushing the offender off your foot and doing the same to the next. His fingers glide over your ankle making you wince and whimper. "I'm sorry... I can't really see it well with the..."

His fingers pinch against your pantyhose and pull it gently. Looking at you as if asking for permission. His hands glide up your legs, looking at you. Giving a small nods his hands go up your thighs, pulling at the waist and down your legs. Dropping them with your heels. His hands linger on your bare thighs as he stares. Gripping with the tenderness you'd forgotten about, a small huff leaves his lips before you clear your throat.

"Leon..." He snaps back to reality looking at your ankle and rubbing it. You complain again, feeling your heart beat in you leg.

"Good news, it doesn't look broken."

"No shit." He smirks looking back at you, lips turning into a sincere smile as his brows drop.

"Still as snarky as ever..." It's your turn to stare now, watching his hands wander back up your legs and wrap around your knees. Pulling you closer and wrinkle the sheets below you.

"Who would I be without my smart ass mouth?" His eyes drift halfway closed, his body almost completely pressed against your chest with his own. His arm slides around your waist with practiced ease.

"Not my wife." His words flow so naturally. Like no time has past since the separation. Being this close doesn't feel nearly as awkward as you expected it to be. His hands are as gentle as the look he's giving you. That same puppy dog stare only you seem to yank out of the rough and tough exterior.

It makes you crack a smile... A smile you definitely shouldn't be showing so easily.

"I miss you." His voice is soft again, leaning closer into you, cupping your cheek with a callused hand. "Do you miss me?"

"Yes." The answer rolls off your tongue without a second thought. The corners of his lips turning higher, smiling brighter then you've seen in a while. He doesn't waste any time pulling you into his lap, smothering you in his embrace and pulling you into a heated and hungry kiss.

Hands traveling into every available spot on your body. Finally finding his way under the skirt of your dress and pulling your hips taut against his growing desire.

"Lee... We can't right now, they're expecting us upstairs for dinner." His lips meet your neck, kissing across your pulse and to your ear. Hands gliding over your skin as he pulls back from your neck.

"Why would I go do that when I got my favorite meal right here?" You laugh, the noise sounding like music to his ears all over again. Eyes turning to that loving stare, laying you down against the plush sheets and linens.

"Plus, you hurt your ankle. You need bed rest... And maybe I could give you a real reason to limp."

[angelsfat3]

ꮩ, 狂信者。⸻[𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘯...]

Summary: Your face is unique, your voice and your way of behaving is so special, maybe that's why he fell in love. But you're just his fan.

C/w: Ni-ki thought you were a girl (short reader), small mention of anxiety, everything happens very quickly. ㅤ－ㅤTw: Few curses, anxiety attack.

Genre: fluff, kinda suggestive, romance, two points of view.

A/N: Apart from the fact that I struggled to put Japanese and Korean words into romaji, I decided to write this story with Stuck in the Middle as background song, and somehow I feel that the whole writing feels like read a kdrama(This is so embarrassing and trashy (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠))

your point of view.

The plane had finally landed at Incheon International Airport, marking the end of a long and tiring journey from Japan. You, with your backpack hanging from one shoulder and your heart beating with a mix of excitement and nervousness—because after months of insisting to your mother, she granted your wish to meet your favorite group—You decided that walking to your hotel would be a good way to familiarize yourself with the new surroundings and also to take advantage of taking photographs.

With the afternoon sun bathing the unknown streets, you began your journey trusting in the route marked by your phone, and your incipient knowledge of Korean.

As you progressed, the roads became narrower and the signs more confusing. The feeling of being lost began to slowly invade you, but your determination combined with stubbornness wanted to make you find the building through the image that was on Google...

As you turned a corner, you realized that you were just walking in circles, as the convenience stores and small restaurants were the same as those "three streets back."

The afternoon turned into twilight, and the warm lights of the lanterns began to come on, casting shadows that danced across the cobblestones.

The fear that you had been avoiding so much was present when a group of people passed by you and they only laughed. Your bad thoughts appeared with them, making you believe that maybe they were laughing at you.

Feeling more and more disoriented and exhausted, you decided to take a break and go into one of those stores just to buy a bottle of water and an onigiri. Five minutes passed just in you doing calculations to give the correct bill to the cashier.

As you left the premises you decided to start eating a little, trying to calm your mind and regain your composure. You checked the address on your phone again, but everything seemed just as confusing, the building was supposed to be a block away.

While you were looking for where to throw the plastic from the onigiri, from afar you could see a boy with a cap and a mask leaving a restaurant just a couple of meters from you, you thought it was destiny who gave you the opportunity to go to him and ask him. What can you lose? The dignity.

"E-excuse me!... You could- uh..." Your embarrassing attempt to ask him for help seemed to have scared him a little, because when he turned to look at you, he just made an "x" with his arms and gently shook his head.

Seconds later another boy came out of the restaurant, apparently he was with the person you had scared, so now you had two, quite tall men, glaring at you.

"Uh... Hotel?" Nerves took over you again, causing you to show them the image of the building you are looking for, pointing out the name of the place. When you didn't get a response you only felt a slight desire to cry, you felt that the last opportunity to have a comfortable place to sleep and to be able to see the people you admired.

Your hands began to shake and your heart accelerated after a few seconds because of how the boys looked around, not really knowing what to say to you.

"Uzai..." You turned off your phone as soon as you could and gave a small bow. "I'm sorry...I'm sorry for making you lose-...How do you say Jikan in Korean?" You whispered the last sentence. "Ah!, I'm sorry to waste your time..."

"You speak Japanese?" Suddenly, a deep voice interrupted your thoughts. “Do you need help with something?” You looked up slightly, meeting the eyes of the boy who had just come out. He apparently noticed your concern, so he would quickly try to strike up a quick conversation.

"Yeah.. I'm a little lost," you admitted, feeling a bit of relief at finally finding someone willing to help. "I'm looking for this hotel," you said, showing the address on your phone.

He simply nodded, understanding your situation. "Oh, I know that place, it used to be above the center of Seoul, but they changed it to the Gangnam area. It's not too far from here. Do you want us to accompany you?” He asked adjusting his cap.

“I like the idea! But... Will your friend agree?” You responded, tilting your head a little, noticing the brunette in the back with his gaze focused on his phone.

“He'll be fine, come on, I'll take you—we'll take you to the hotel, before it gets too late,” he responded with a smile from under the fabric.

You thanked him for his kindness and together they began to walk, eventually the other boy followed behind them. The conversation flowed easily, and you discovered that he was also a fan of the same group. The coincidence made you feel more comfortable and less alone along the way.

From the way you both laughed or made very clumsy jokes, people around you could deduce that you were lifelong friends, when the reality is that you had been talking for 15 minutes since he offered to take you. During some moments there were also small friction between your hand and his or even when you caught him staring at you, either in the eyes or at your lips.

As you two walked, you realized that you had missed a small alley that connected directly to the main street where your hotel was located.

"Well... I think this is the end, pretty girl" he commented, pausing in his walk, making you see the large building.

Finally, you arrived at the hotel just as the sky turned completely dark. When you said goodbye to your new friend, a feeling of sadness flooded your body for a few seconds, it was a shame that the only person who helped you did not have a phone number and continue to know each other, however you thanked him deeply for his help.

He wished you a good stay and reminded you to enjoy every moment of your trip.

As you were about to enter through the revolving door, turning around just to look at him and say, "I'm a boy," you let out a laugh as you saw his eyes widen.

"Oh yeah? Oh.. well, never mind. It was nice meeting you, pretty boy." He finished saying goodbye to you with his hand moving from side to side. You quickly went into the hotel with your face all red from the nickname he had given you.

Entering your room, you dropped your backpack and collapsed on the bed, feeling a mix of relief and satisfaction. Despite the setback, you had managed to get there and, in the process, you had made a new friend. With a smile on your face, you prepared to rest, knowing that tomorrow you would be face to face with your idols.

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

“So.. Was she really cute or were you just doing this out of kindness?” a male voice asked.

“Cute.. he was cute.” The taller boy responded, with his head down as he continued walking towards a company, next to his friend.

"He?! Holy shit, Ni-ki... You're in serious trouble if anyone else finds out.” Heeseung commented.

“I know, but I doubt they will ever know, for my bad or good luck, I only spoke with him for a couple of minutes,” He paused while he removed his mask and cap once inside the facility. "His voice... his eyes, everything about him was so cute, did you see how small he looked next to me... ssibal" he whisper.

“Yes, I know how he looked like, I was also going with you two, in case you forgot,” Heeseung said with a slight expression of annoyance, this because of the dramatic way in which Ni-ki gently pressed his forehead with his hand. “It's not the end of the world either, you know? Maybe you will meet him by chance another day and—”

“Or perhaps I will never see him again and I will die without even knowing his name,” Ni-ki commented.

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The sun was just beginning to rise when, still with the excitement of the previous day throbbing in your chest, you woke up to the insistent sound of the alarm. Today was the day you would finally get to see the boys you've admired for a while face to face, and the excitement was mixed with a touch of nervousness.

A new day began normally, although given the fact that it was your first time in another country and alone, you felt like you were in a dream movie or drama. Clouds adorned the sky, which was as blue as the sea. When you jumped up just to open the window, your entire room lit up.

After a quick breakfast and a mental review of what you planned to tell them, you left for the event venue. The city was alive at that time of the morning, but you only had one thing on your mind: fansing.

And, although you didn't want to admit it, you also thought about the boy you had met the day before, the one who had turned you red and tomato for the simple fact of calling you "pretty boy."

You kept thinking about the way in which on the short journey from that place to your hotel, he always tried to make you smile or talk about your tastes. His deep voice, his height, the way he tried to make you feel safe and although it was difficult to see his face, his eyes were so pretty. A dark brown adorned on the outside by her long, drooping eyelashes... It was so cute.

You left the hotel completely ready, a small bag where you carried small gifts for each member, as well as the most recent album so they could sign it.

Upon arriving at the venue, the energy in the atmosphere was palpable. The lights, the preparations, the murmur of the people... Everything contributed to a crescendo of anticipation. You tried to stay focused as you waved at a few girls before you.

Ni-ki's pov.

The day had started early for him, as usual. The alarms sounded in sync with the first ray of sunlight, calling all members of the group to prepare for the day's event. With automatic movements, he headed to the bathroom, washing his face and brushing his teeth as he tried to clear away the drowsiness.

He carefully chose his outfit, casual but in the iconic colors of his comeback, adding the finishing touch with a pair of accessories he knew fans would love.

Although fansings turned out to be somewhat exhausting, there was something about this particular one that filled him with an inexplicable excitement. Maybe it was the fact that they had spent weeks in the studio, or maybe it was the simple pleasure of seeing their fans again.

As he got ready, his thoughts returned to the boy he had met the day before. The pretty boy, as he had called him in a moment of spontaneity, continued to haunt his mind. He remembered how his eyes sparkled when he talked about his passions, the way they became more slanted when he laughed at some bad joke, how his smile seemed to light up the surroundings, and how his initial nervousness dissipated as they talked.

Upon arriving at the event venue, feelings of nervousness and excitement were mixed. The routine of getting ready, arranging some things with the staff, and going over the day's agenda was carried out with precision, but his thoughts kept wandering to that unexpected meeting. He wondered if he would see him again one day, if fate would allow them to cross paths again.

With each passing minute, the anticipation grew. The team gave them the final instructions while preparations progressed around them. The lights were shining brightly, the stage was set, and the fans' enthusiastic screams echoed in their ears, creating an electrifying atmosphere. It was all part of the magic of the moment.

When Ni-ki finally took the stage, he focused on doing his best, trying to connect with every fan who had come to see him, shaking hands, praising fans' perfumes or accessories, etc.

And then, as he waited for the next fan, in the crowd, as he watched some girls, waving at them, his eyes met a familiar look.

He couldn't believe it: the pretty boy was there, approaching him, with a small bag in hand and a nervous but radiant smile. In that instant, all the noise, lights, and hubbub seemed to fade away, leaving only the memory of those brown eyes and the surprise of an unexpected connection in the midst of chaos.

Ni-ki felt his heart speed up, and a warm feeling of happiness enveloped him, unable to hide a smile from ear to ear.

The boy approached timidly, not really knowing how to start the conversation. Ni-ki, still shocked by the sight, was the first to speak.

"Hello!" Ni-ki said with a smile, trying to hide his own surprise. "Is this your first time here?"

The boy smiled back, although clearly nervous. “Um... Actually, yes,” the boy responded, almost whispering. “I…brought this for you” He extended the bag towards him, making the taller boy take a look inside.

Ni-ki carefully took the bag and looked inside better, finding a small letter and some candys. He looked up and saw that the boy was watching him carefully, waiting for his reaction.

“This is... Thank you very much, this is very nice,” he responded, letting out a soft laugh, feeling a pleasant warmth in his chest. "What's your name?" He asked.

The shorter boy blushed, his gaze dropping to the ground for a moment before meeting Ni-ki's eyes again. “My name is [...]” he responded as he watched his Idol take his hand out of the corner of his eye, causing his heart to beat rapidly.

Ni-ki felt a mixture of shame and tenderness. He didn't want to pressure him, knowing that his Korean wasn't the best, so he decided to move forward gently.

“Oh! Are you japanese? You would have told me before…” exclaimed the tallest one, regulating his voice so that only the one in front of him could hear him. "I'm glad you have come. You are having fun?"

The boy nodded, clearly relieved by the change of topic and language. "Yes, a lot. It's my first time at a fansing, and it's... amazing. I can't believe I'm here, talking to you, holding your hand...”

“Well, believe me, I'm very glad you came,” Ni-ki commented, feeling a special connection in that moment. However, unfortunately time couldn't stop just so the two of you could continue talking, so you continued at the same pace as always, one minute and goodbye. “I hope you enjoy the rest of the event. And thanks again for the gift. It means a lot to me."

You were both silent for a moment, just smiling, staring at each other. The rest of the minute they spent talking about basic things: tastes, music, clothes and sometimes about the album.

Finally, the boy said bye with a soft "goodbye", and Ni-ki watched him approach the next member, his heart still pounding.

When the event was over and Ni-ki had a moment to reflect, he realized that that brief encounter had left a deep mark on him. The unexpected connection, the mix of shame and love, all contributed to an experience he would cherish for a long time.

"So... that boy turned out to be our fan" Heeseung said, approaching the minor, gently squeezing his shoulder in a way to comfort him.

“No, he's just my fan.” He smiled, caressing the letter you had previously given him.

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

메모 ! 📌ㅤ⸻ㅤ Let's avoid the fact that I put Ronaldo in the Lore and let's avoid that I also made everything very cliché. 😴

ㅤㅤ아이디어 !ㅤ⸻ㅤI'm very short of ideas lately, so feel free to ㅤㅤㅤ leave me any requests! <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠>

ㅤㅤ All credits to @angelsfat3 / @foschiamara

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

[rekino2114]

Jjk girls (+ genderbent) struggling to open a soda can for you

A/n:I know I did a very similar prompt only 3 days ago and I'm also kinda behind with requests but this idea came to my head and I could not stop thinking about it because of how funny it was

Nobara kugisaki

"Just get yuji to open it for you"

"I'm not carrying your shopping bags anymore if you don't"

"E-eh? Why?"

"You say you love me and you can't even open a can for me?"

Nobara sighs before taking the can

"Alright, Alright, sorry"

She tries to open the lid, but nothing works. She tries a few more times, getting increasingly angry before taking one of her nails and trying to poke holes into the can

"......nobara, sorry, but won't that make the soda come out of the holes?"

"Who cares? This can is indestructible anyway"

When even that doesn't work, she just brings out her hammer to smash it, but the can still stands there like nothing happens. She still continues smashing it out of anger

"What *smash* The *smash* Heck *smash* Is *smash* this *smash* can *smash* made of!!!"

"P-please calm down babe"

Maki zenin

She sighs, seemingly annoyed, but actually kinda loves showing her strength to you.

She's kinda used to this. You and yuta often ask her for help with stuff that requires physical strength, so she thinks this is gonna be easy

......if only she knew

"Hm?"

"Something wrong maki?"

"The can, it's not opening"

"Really? Not even you can do it?"

"Wait, I'm still trying"

She's too stubborn to give up, so she tries for a lot of time before putting it back on the table angrily

"This isn't one of gojo's pranks is it?"

"No I got it from the vending machine"

Maki sighs before standing up and walking away. You think she got mad and went to train or something, but then you see her come back with her polearm and try to stab the can........it still doesn't work

"WHAT THE HECK?!"

Yuki tsukumo

"Don't worry, let your lovely special grade gf handle it"

You roll your eyes as she takes the can and tries to pop the lid off with her thumb to show off. When that doesn't work, she narrows her eyes at the can before trying again with her full strength

"*ngh* come on..... open! I need to do this for y/n"

"Y-yuki it's fine I can get another o-"

"No, no i almost got it"

When she realizes that the can is this strong, she tells you to stand back and puts the can on the table before backing off herself

"W-what are you about to do?"

"Open this goddamn can that's what"

You start sweating as you understand what she's about to do

"Star rage:jupiter"

She puts a lot of mass in her fist and tries to punch the can, which gets flung on the other side of the room, almost breaking the wall from the impact.......completely intact

"W-W-W-WHAAAAAAAAT???!!"

She might have considered using her black hole move on it before you comforted her

Genderbent characters:

Fem!gojo

She gives you a teasing smirk as you hand her the can

"What, is that can giving you too much trouble?"

"You try opening it. The lid is practically glued on"

"Whatever you say"

She takes the can and opens it without even looking at you, giving it back to you with a smug smile, expecting a kiss from you

"........tori, the can is still closed"

".........Eh?"

She actually looks at the can and sees it is indeed still open. She looks confused before trying some more times with increasing strength, when even those don't work, she's the most confused she's ever been

Her six eyes are telling her that that's just a normal can and yet she still can't open it. Her. Satori gojo, the honored one, the strongest sorcerer of today.....can't open a normal soda can

She tries everything. Pulling the lid off with blue, destroying it with red, even crushing it with infinity but nothing works....she feels like the can itself is humiliating her..... now it's personal

She tells you to stay out of the way and pulls her blindfold down, getting into position

"You want to make me look like this in front of my love? Well then, you got another thing coming"

You wonder who's she's talking to before you hear her start to chant immediately getting worried

"Nine ropes, polarized light, crow and decla-"

"WAIT, DON'T SATORI, YOU'RE GONNA DESTROY EVERYTHING!"

Fem!sukuna

"I know you're strong enough to open that, if you weren't I would have never gotten with you"

"I know, but this can is insane. It's practically indestructible"

"Hm"

Sukuna isn't one to refuse challenges, and she knows you're not lying since she saw you struggling before, so she grabs the can with one of her four arms and pulls the lid off......only to see the can is unchanged

She lets out and amused sound before trying again, even with all 4 of her arms it didn't work

"I'll admit, this is weirdly difficult, Is this some sort of new cursed object humanity created?"

".......n-no it's just a soda can"

"Well, it's still no match for me"

You saw her wave on her hands at the can

"Cleave"

Even after her cleave and a few more dismantles the can stays completely unharmed, and that's when she starts getting mad

She's the queen of curses and the strongest sorcerer in history she literally abandoned everything (except for you) to become the strongest......she CAN open a soda can

"Dear, do you mind going outside"

".......s-sure"

Even from outside, you could still hear her next words

"Domain expansion:malevolent shrine"

She kinda forgot her domain was an open barrier one and ended up destroying everything near the can.....she still didn't care as she could still see that the can didn't have a single scratch on it

She later went outside near you as your house and everything around it burned in flames

".........was using fuga too necessary"

"Yes"

Fem!toji

"You sure this ain't just a way to see me use my muscles?"

"*sighs* just do it ok?"

"Calm down, I was just joking"

She smiles and takes the soda can in your hand. Just like maki, she's used to opening stuff for you, and part of her likes it. It's a way of showing her that you like her heavenly restriction and don't judge her because of it like the rest of the jujutsu word.

She gets lost in thought and doesn't even notice that the can didn't open, but when she does, she tries even harder, but it still doesn't work. How is this possible? She opened so many food containers for megumi and tsumiki that this should be second nature

"A-are you alright? You look like you're struggling"

"Struggling, me? Nah, I'm just getting warmed up"

She's actually angry now, so she pulls out her inventory curse and grabs the inverted spear of heaven, and tries to stab the lid.. when that still doesn't work, she just goes all out and stabs the can.......to no avail

At this point, she's just frustrated and panting because how the heck is this soda can harder to deal with than gojo? She takes a break for a while and megumi walks in the room having seen all this

You let him try to open the can just for fun

"Mama, were you trying to open this?"

"Not now gumi mama's bus-.........."

Her jaw just completely dropped, seeing that her son actually opened the can

".....how the fuck?!"

"Language! Not in front of the kids!"

Fem!nanami

"Of course honey, let me handle it"

As your wife, nanami particularly enjoys helping you do stuff like this, especially since she knows she is quite strong she loves putting this quality of hers to good use for the person she loves

"Hm"

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, the lid just seems really stuck there....no matter"

She goes to get a can opener from a shelf, but even that doesn't work, she tries a few more times, but nothing happens

"It's alright dear, I can get another one"

"No,no, please, I got it, It just seems I'll have to be more brute than usual"

She starts getting serious and puts her tie around her hand, making it glow with cursed energy. When she tries to open the can this way.......it still doesn't work

She even tried using her technique to make a weak spot in the can to try to yank the lid off there, but still nothing

"I am truly sorry, I thought it would have been easy, but it seems this can is really tough"

"Don't worry I couldn't do it either"

From this time on, she always checks if she can open the jars or cans you two buy just not to disappoint you like this again

Fem!yuji

"Oh, for sure, I got it"

Even before she got cursed energy, itadori (I dunno if Yuji is a gender neutral name, so I'll just call her itadori for now to be safe) has always been very physically gifted and strong, so her friends did on occasion ask her to open cans for them when they hung out, so she thought nothing if this and tried to open the can.......only for it not to move

"Eh? What's this? This is the first time I can't open a can"

She tries pulling harder, even putting a bit of cursed energy in her hands, but it still doesn't work, and she starts getting mad and embarrassed because she kinda wants to show you how strong and awesome she is

So sukuna (who is a woman also in this) tries to take advantage of that

"Oi brat, if you let me out, I can open the can for your partner"

"No way! I got it, just *breathes heavily* a few more tries"

"*sighs* whatever"

Eventually, she gets sick of it and just puts it on the table preparing a fist

"W-what are you doing?"

"Don't worry, I'll open the can for you y/n!"

She yells as you see the curses energy in her fist turn red and black

"Black flash!"

The can is on the other side of the room now but still intact, and you see your girlfriend smash her head on the table dejectedly.....you have to comfort her.

Meanwhile, sukuna in her head:

".........why does this situation feel so familiar?"

Fem!megumi

"Are you serious? You can fight curses, but you can't open a regular soda can?"

"Come on, I don't know what this can is, but it's not regular, I tried everything but it doesn't open"

"*sighs* what a waste of time"

She grabs the can and tries to open it while glaring mildly at you. Her gaze switches to the thing in her hand when, even after the third attempt, nothing happens

"See?"

".......alright, maybe you had a point"

She gets up and does the dogs hand sign

"Divine dogs"

After even the dogs can't bit through the can, she summons the toad.....then orochi... then nue....then all of her other shinigamis hoping they would do something.....nothing happened.....well she summoned everyone except for one

"Seriously? What the heck even is that thing? Are we sure it's not a cursed object"

"I dunno, that's why I asked you to open it"

"*sighs* well I still have one ace up my sleeve"

".......actually I'll let you this time, mahoraga might be needed for this"

Hearing you finally agreeing with her, megumi got into position for the ritual and started chanting

"With this treasure, I summon eight handled sword divergent silla divine general. MAHORAGA"

Megumi passed out quickly after summoning her tenth shadow, but you saw it approaching and slashing the can.....and it still wasn't broken.....

Apparently, not even mahoraga could adapt to the soda can

[ashwhowrites]

can i request a little bit of angst?

eddie is in his late twenties, finally got his shit together, a baby on the way with reader! and eddie’s OLDER brother shows up. he’s an asshole, exactly like their dad, tries hitting on reader, crashes on their couch, makes eddies life hell then it all comes to a head and they end up fighting!

I really love this request!!! 🫶🏻

Never proofread

I hope this is what you wanted, thank you for requesting &lt;3

Happy ending

~~~

If there was one thing in life Eddie didn't think he'd ever achieve, it was getting his life together. He never thought he'd make it out of the trailer park. And he definitely never thought he'd have a wife by his side and a baby on the way.

It took Eddie a long time to get on his feet. Selling drugs and living with his uncle was not the future he wanted for himself. He used his dirty money and got himself a shitty apartment, in the corner of the dirtiest neighborhood, but it was all his. And being on his own was something he could be proud about.

~~~

He was living in that apartment for around five years when he met Y/N. She moved into the apartment next to him, struggling to carry boxes through the front door. Eddie was happy he lived on the first floor, easily walking out behind her, trying his best to not seem creepy.

She turned around and screamed as she saw him. A hand over her chest. Eddie jumped at the scream, hands in the air to show he meant no harm.

"I am so sorry! I just wanted to see if you needed help." He offered with the friendliest smile he could manage.

Who would have thought in three years, he would have been marrying that girl.

~~~

Marriage life was the best thing Eddie has experienced, and he felt that fatherhood would be the same. He never knew how badly he craved a family until he was on the path of creating his own. He could start fresh, start a new family tree of the Munson name. A name that didn't have to be originated from prisoners, dealers, and being poor. He wanted the Munson name to be carried on through generations, with all good things behind it. Having a wife like Y/N take his name, told him he had a strong beginning.

She was around six months, her belly growing by the day. Together they made enough to buy a small home, in a safer neighborhood. Nothing too flashy, but it was their home and it meant everything. Eddie gagged at the thought of a white picket fence but he loved seeing it shine in the morning sun when Y/N watered the plants.

The nursery was nearly finished. The walls painted baby pink, and the furniture white. Eddie's favorite bands posted on the walls. He claimed their daughter needed to get her music journey started right away.

Eddie was the happiest he's ever been until an unwelcome visitor showed up at his door.

Y/N knew everything about Eddie, except his family. She knew Uncle Wayne and that was all. She respected that Eddie was private about his family and that he didn't care to share who they are.

So Y/N stood in shock when an older man stood at her door, the same shade of brown as her husband. A similar smile on the man's face, and a slightly bigger version of Eddie's nose.

"I'm looking for my brother," the man stated, looking her up and down. A tiny smirk on his face. But his smirk didn't give her butterflies, it made her stomach turn in a bad way.

She screamed for Eddie, a polite smile on her face. The longer Eddie took the more nervous she got.

"How far are you?" The man questioned, his hand reaching for her stomach.

She took a big sigh of relief when Eddie's hand shot out and stopped the man's touch from touching her. He stood in front of her. Completely blocking her view from the stranger.

"Little E, how the hell are you?" The stranger asked

"What are you doing here?" Eddie snapped. She watched as his body was stiff, she slipped her hand in his back pocket and stood on the side of him.

"Got out of jail, needed a place to crash. Wayne is going out of town and doesn't trust me alone in his place." The man rolled his eyes as he finished his sentence.

"I don't blame him since the last time you did you trashed it," Eddie said, his jaw was tight and his face was hard.

"Come on, E, help a brother out."

~~~

Eddie wasn't sure why he said yes, but he already regretted it watching the way his brother's eyes were glued to his wife.

"Quit staring," Eddie snarled, using his foot to kick him under the table.

Y/N hummed in the kitchen as she checked the chicken. Trying her best to keep her attention off of the two men at the dining table. She felt her body shudder underneath Michael's stare.

"Quite a woman you got there," Michael said, sipping on his beer

Eddie didn't say anything, accepting the silence instead.

Y/N smiled as she placed the food on the dinner table. Putting together a plate for Eddie and placing it in front of him.

"Gonna make me a plate, pretty girl?" Michael winked, his hand reaching forward to her wrist. She gulped and looked nervously at Eddie.

"Leave her alone." Eddie snapped

Michael put his hands up in surrender, making his own plate.

The three sat in silence.

~~~

Michael has been crashing on the couch for the past week, and every day he was getting on Eddie's last nerve.

Y/N worked from home and spent most of the day in her office, Eddie worked at a car dealership. He hated leaving for work and leaving her alone with Michael. He didn't trust Michael but Eddie's boss would also kick his ass for not showing up.

He kept his phone on him at all times, reminding Y/N to call the second she needed him to come home.

~~~

Michael said he found a friend to crash with and would be leaving shortly. Asking Y/N if she would help him clean his clothes and pack up his belongings. She honestly felt too scared to tell him no, silently scooping up his clothes and bringing them to the small laundry room. She excused herself to head into the shower. Eddie would be home within minutes so she felt safe to be in a vulnerable state, checking twice to make sure the door was locked.

~~~

Eddie pulled up in the driveway, bracing himself for another night of trying not to kill Michael with his bare hands. He walked in to see his house trashed, the cushion torn apart, and the cupboards all thrown open, he heard shuffling around in the bedroom. He raced to the noise to see Michael digging through their drawers.

"What the fuck? Are you trying to rob us?" Eddie asked in disbelief, Michael's backpack was filled with random items. Eddie yanked the bag out of his grip, dumping it all out on the bed.

He felt his blood boil when Y/N's ring fell out. But once his brain caught up with seeing the ring, his blood felt cold. She ONLY took it off when she was in the shower. Eddie turned his eyes to Michael, immediately shoving him against the wall.

"Where did you grab the ring?" He prayed with everything in him that she left it in the bedroom.

"She had it sitting on the bathroom counter, she couldn't see me with her back to me. Really hit the jackpot there, Eddie. Shes' smoking."

Eddie felt his stomach turn, he felt like he could throw up at any moment.

"You fucking pig. Don't talk about her." Eddie barked, twisting Michael's shirt in his grip.

"A really nice ass, I bet her tits ar-" But Eddie kicked Michael in the stomach before he could finish.

~~~

Y/N heard a commotion in the bedroom, fear in her stomach as she got covered herself in a towel and called Wayne. Racing out of the bathroom to see Eddie on top of Micahel, screaming and punching.

"OH MY GOD, EDDIE" She panicked, she knew getting in the way would put the baby in danger, but she has never seen Eddie so out of control.

The sound of her scream caused Eddie to freeze, and both men looked to see her.

"Eddie, stop," She said calmly. She placed her hand out, offering him to stand up. He took a deep breath and got off of Michael. Grabbing his bag and throwing it on him.

"You are out." Eddie snarled

Michael coughed as he tried to move his beaten-up body. Eddie rolled his eyes and dragged Michael to his feet.

"I have his clothes," Y/N said, quickly running out to the laundry room.

Michael smirked as Eddie looked over at him.

"What asshole?" Eddie asked.

"I see why you knocked her up. When she was bent over that washing machine." Michael groaned, rubbing himself over his jeans.

Eddie lost it again, immediately throwing his body on his.

Y/N came back with the clothes to see Michael unconscious, but the look in Eddie's eyes was unrecognizable.

She didn't fear him, but she was worried for him.

She breathed a sigh of relief when Wayne came through the door, yanking Eddie off of Micahel.

"Hey, hey, look at me," Wayne instructed, grabbing the sides of Eddie's face, forcing his eyes to look at him.

Eddie's body was shaking, his knuckles cut open, and his breathing was quick and harsh.

Eddie locked his eyes on Waynes, allowing himself to calm down.

"I'll take care of him, hug your wife and go clean up."

Eddie listened in seconds, turning around to throw himself in his wife's arms. Allowing her to hide in his neck. She rubbed his back and cooed in his ear.

She took him to the bathroom to clean up his hands. Kissing each knuckle as she cleaned the blood.

"I'm sorry I let him stay here." Eddie sighed, he couldn't believe he was that dumb. He watched Wayne do the same thing with Eddie's dad for years, and yet he did the same thing.

"Don't be. You wanted to help and that was sweet of you." She said, standing between his legs as he sat on the counter.

They heard the front door close, Wayne and Michael officially gone.

"I'm sorry my family is a mess, this I why I never wanted you to know them." He added. His hands reached down to rub her stomach.

"Wayne is your family, I'm your family, and she is your family. That's the only family I care to know. Wayne raised the man I love and he is the only one I need to know. I have the two best Munsons in my life." She said, leaning up to peck his lips.

"Well, I get to have three." He smiled, kissing her back and his hand stayed on her stomach.

This was his real family.

~~~

tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @slightlyvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergent @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Rainy Season - Part 5

I Want Crazy

Azriel Eris x Reader

After a promotion to an emissary position by a meddling Tarquin, Y/N and Eris get much, much closer.

A/n: There will likely only be a couple more chapters of this fic. For those of you concerned by the previous chapter, please continue to trust the process. Our girl is intelligent.

Part 4 Part 6

Warnings: Language, brief mention of fertility struggles

Our first date, the seasons changed. It got washed away in a summer rain

He wasn’t what I expected, Eris Vanserra. Not that I ever fathomed what to expect or even considered it. In fact there was only a very short list of things I knew prior to the day we met:

-He was a High Lord.

-He’d been a secretive ally of the Night Court prior to his father’s demise.

-Azriel fucking hated him.

And after that day I knew everything I needed to:

-He was warm beyond the fire in his veins

-He was a just ruler

-He had a dry wit that sat well with my soul.

-I wanted to see him again.

After dancing that night, we ran back to Tarquin’s palace in the rain. It was the first time I’d been unable to contain my joy in far too long. I laughed, and skipped, and spun in circles the whole way back. Eris grumbled the entire way but I could see the amusement lit in his eyes. The next morning he met me for breakfast and found me again before he left for the Autumn Court.

He began finding reasons to visit the Summer Court more frequently and sought me out every time. It was no time before Eris became a close friend.

Tarquin - ever the cheeky, wonderful bastard - only gave me knowing smiles when he’d catch us walking the palace grounds. According to Cresseida, The High Lord of the Summer Court was quite the romantic and had a knack for playing matchmaker. I was inclined to agree considering that after a month of spotting Eris and I around the grounds, Tarquin made a proposition to me. I could still teach my classes but he needed a temporary emissary to the Autumn court as they negotiated border, trade, and tariff agreements. Given my recent closeness with the High Lord of Autumn and overall wonderful (debatable) disposition, he found me to be the perfect candidate. With that, I found myself on official court business in the Autumn Court.

Who cares if you’re all I think about?

I was nervous on the first visit to Autumn. I knew things were different under Eris’ reign but the stories of Beron’s cruelty within his own keep were enough to warrant a bit of caution.

My worries were quickly cast aside when Eris personally escorted me from the border and to his keep. The Autumn Court was stunning. The leaves on the trees were brighter than I’d ever seen. The hues ranging from gold to red absolutely stunning. I’d love to have Feyre one day paint it for me.

Smells of roasting chestnuts, hickory smoke, crisp leaves, apple cider, and autumn air filled my nose. On the way, Eris stopped by a small farm where the owner allowed us to pick what Eris called the finest Honeycrisp apples in all of Prythian. I’d never had that variety before and though I had nothing to compare them against, the apples had the perfect crunch and just the right ratio of tart and sweet. He paid the farmer handsomely for a bucket of them and several pie pumpkins for his kitchens.

The Autumn Keep was far from the drab stone castle that I’d pictured. Eris clearly went to great strides to ensure the ghost of Beron Vanserra had no hold here. The grand rooms were filled with maple accents, rugs and tapestries with hues greens, golds, oranges and reds. Fires roared in massive fireplaces and autumnal spices filled the air.

And despite the beauty of the keep. I couldn’t seem to keep my eyes off of the tall, handsome redhead walking alongside me.

Once I was settled for the stay, we did meet to discuss political matters which took countless hours, but I was rather impressed with the ease of our negotiations. He and Tarquin had similar visions for the economic future within their courts.

We enjoyed dinner together, indulged in autumnal wines, including a hot mulled wine that flushed my cheeks. Or so I told Eris that was the reason for the blush on my features, and certainly not the way way he’d refer to me as “my lady” or “little fox.”

We’d stayed up late, sitting by a bon fire outside beneath the Autumn Skies. There was music and dancing, spiked ciders, and caramel apples. I could see why Eris loves his court.

We, of course, kept respectful distance from eachother as not to spark any gossip of anything more than friendship between he and I. Yet somehow, hours later, we found ourselves in a private courtyard - a small fire burning as we lay back on a blanket together. I began to shiver as the evening chill grew cooler. As I went to bid Eris goodnight and head for the warmth within Castle Walls, he halted me.

“Come here” he spoke. His voice low.

I scooted a bit closer.

“Come closer, little fox. I won’t bite.”

He refrained from adding “unless you ask me to” but that was readable enough in his heavy lidded gaze.

So I laid beside him, my head nestled between his chest and shoulder as his heat warmed my body. I showed him various constellations that I’d learned of during my time in the Night Court and he did a terrible job of visualizing them. He tried though. He told me how he used to wish on shooting stars, how he still found himself occasionally wishing upon them. I teared up when he told me of the wishes he’d made back then for his mother and Lucien, for himself, to one day escape Beron’s cruelty. For a better life. A better Court.

When we saw a shooting star later, he made a wish and told me it was bad luck to tell someone else the wish.

And I, despite everything that had turned upside down in life, found myself struggling to ask for anything more than what I had in that moment.

When we finally said goodnight I realized his own suite was right next to the one he had set me up in.

I woke in a sweat sometime hours before dawn. Pain ripping through my chest. Azriel once again pulling on the fucking bond with no regard for the feelings of despair he was shoving to me. This time was worse than usual, the waves of grief continuing to grow stronger and stronger all the time. It wasn’t fair. I didn’t deserve this. This was a bed of his own making and yet I still had to suffer beyond what I’d already been through. Sleeping through it was futile and the room’s darkness began to suffocate me.

I padded from my room to a common area outside of the suites, sat before the fireplace and worked on breathing through it.

Though I tried my best to remain quiet, Eris apparently had a sharp sense of hearing as he wandered into the room, seating himself on the floor beside me. If I hadn’t been in such a sorry state, perhaps I would have noticed the low slung gray sweatpants and broad muscled chest of the half-naked High Lord- no, friend - beside me.

He took my hand. “Hey, fox, look at me.” I lifted my gaze to his. “You’ve got this. Breathe for me.” I took a shallow breath. “Can you breathe deeper for me, little one?” He placed a hand on my shoulder while the other remained on my hand. I took a deeper breath and let it out slowly.

“Good girl.”

Eris sat with me in silence on a plush couch once my breathing steadied. Still too worked up to fall back asleep, I nestled myself against Eris’ chest while his fingers ran through my hair in soothing, repetitive strokes.

It was hours later that I awoke, finding that I’d fallen asleep on him. I tried shifting away slowly but a sleeping Eris only held his arm around me tighter as I pulled. We slept like that a while longer.

The rest of the trip went by uneventfully. We discussed further trade options and Eris spent the evenings working with me on how to close off the bond to Azriel’s feelings. While I was already excellent at shutting down sending my feelings down the bond, cutting off his feelings was what I needed help with. By the end of the stay I could only feel his emotions slightly.

I expressed my gratitude to Eris who only waived off my thanks. “Anyone would have done it.” Yet he was the only one who tried. What I didn’t tell Eris was that as Azriel’s end of the bond silenced and the depths of my soul went from overflowing to filled with contentment, my thoughts began drifting to happier things, drifted to him.

Front porch and one more kiss. It doesn't make sense to anybody else.

The fifth month after I left, my grandparents held an outdoor feast for our family and friends in celebration of a holiday of one of the lesser Summer gods they worshipped.

It was far from a religious event. There was always wine, dancing, and lively conversation at these celebrations with none of the boring sermons that typically came with such events.

I invited Eris, and to my delight he came. My drunken sister made plenty of comments over how pretty of a pair of “friends” we made, with overemphasis on the word. My sweet, protective nephew took to Eris right away, deciding that after what Azriel put me through, anyone was better than him. He had no tolerance for cheating or sympathy for adulterers from the time he was old enough to understand what it meant and that his father had cheated on my sister during her pregnancy (real stand up guy) though my sister was so far out of his league that he’d have to reach the stars to find someone better. Obviously she’d left him immediately and she and my nephew were better off for it.

My family tried their best and failed miserably to act normal with the High Lord of the Autumn Court in their presence. Fortunately, Eris paid no mind and had won everyone over by the end of the night.

Despite his aversion to the sand, Eris accepted my invitation to camp on the beach so we could enjoy my favorite part of the night, the fireworks shooting off over the bay.

As the finale approached, I pouted.

“I hate when they end.”

Gesturing toward himself, Eris replied. “It’s a good thing you have a High Lord at your disposal to light up the night any time you wish.”

Before I could reprimand him for the crude comment, he began shooting small orbs of fire toward the water in a rainbow of colors.

My eyes sparkled watching the vibrant flares. Soon enough the orbs into butterflies of fire flying through the air, some circling around me. One brushed my cheek and there was no pain, just a gentle flutter.

“That’s… Just wow, that’s incredible, Eris!”

He gave a shrug of nonchalance in return.

“I bet you do that for all the ladies, don’t you?”

Eris looked me in the eyes, something unreadable in them.

“Only the ones I want to kiss.”

A moment passed before I realized that he was entirely serious.

And that I WANTED to kiss him.

So I did.

We kissed under the stars. It was a hard, passionate kiss, our shared breaths riddled with desperation, a profession of the unspoken words between us, “I’ve been waiting for this.”

And when we eventually pulled apart, I looked into his eyes with a smile, genuine, full of adoration, and Eris gently grasped the back of my head, pulling me into another searing kiss.

We shared many more before dawn.

You can’t undo a fall like this.

When Eris returned to the Autumn Court, I tried feeling any remorse for what we’d done. I was technically still a mated female, though I’d left and due to Azriel’s infidelity nobody expected me to honor the bond.

The guilt never came.

Eris had to travel so I wasn’t able to see him for the next couple weeks but we wrote back and forth often through enchanted notes. Curiosity or concern must have gotten the best of him because eventually he asked:

“Do you regret it?”

I knew exactly what he referred to.

“I regret many things, Eris. None of which pertain to you.”

I sent the letter to him with confidence. I did not regret a single thing about the night our lips collided on the beach.

“Thank the Mother, because I need to kiss you again.”

Heat radiated through me at his admission.

But then reality struck. He was the High Lord of the Autumn Court. I was the - separated, yes, but still - the mate of the Night Court’s Spymaster.

“Eris, I love spending time with you and will never regret it. You’ve helped me heal in ways I will never be able to repay you for. But this… how can this work? It’s messy.”

I sent the letter. My own heart crushing at the words. I didn’t want this to end but I couldn’t risk it going further just for reality to come crashing down on us.

Some time passed, the unease in my gut growing when his response appeared.

“If I wanted easy, I’d have married the daughter of some Autumn Lord. Nothing about my past has been easy and despite what some may believe, nothing worth having has come easily to me. Every second spent with you is worth it. Do not, Y/N, doubt that for one single moment. And perhaps this is crazy, but I would not want it any other way.”

It was that moment that I knew I wanted, I needed Eris as more than a friend.

“Then let’s be crazy, Eris Vanserra.”

I don't want "good" and I don't want "good enough"

The thing about immortality is that six months can bring more change than six decades or even centuries.

Six months ago I would have never dreamed that my mate would take the life we’d built over the years and tear it into shreds with those once sacred, beautiful scarred hands that I held reverently. The hands that placed the lovely mating band crafted from one of his own siphons on my finger after he’d made his vows, the hands that lovingly caressed my bare thighs through restless nights until sleep took me, hands that held me pressed to his chest and wiped away the tears of grief after yet another failed fertility cycle.

Those hands that held another and damned it all, the hands that came home and stroked my hair as pretty lies fell from his mouth, the hands that took my glass heart and dropped it.

I especially wouldn’t have dreamed that six months later I would be laying in the bed of the High Lord of the Autumn Court with his strong, warm hands holding me like this heart of mine that he’d forged anew was the most delicate, precious possession in his keep.

I want "can't sleep, can't breathe without your love"

We’d spent the night together making love. The kind of love making that shifts something intrinsic within a person, the type where no matter what happens, a piece of you is forever changed. It was more than just giving my body to him, it was a claiming of the soul.

We lay in bed all morning, his long fingers tracing along the arch of my bare back as he pressed soft kisses along my shoulder and neck. Between kisses, his low voice whispered quiet hopes and dreams for the future.

I was just about to speak those three words that I’d only ever spoken to one other male when a loud knock came on the chamber door.

“For fuck’s sake” Eris muttered before shouting “Come back later!”

“We apologize, High Lord but this is urgent.” a muffled male voice replied through the closed door.

Eris growled, shifting out of bed and throwing on his sweatpants not bothering with a shirt. I enjoyed the view.

“This better be worth my while, lads.” Eris hissed in a tone that conveyed “I’m very fucking inconvenienced right now but understand that you are doing your duty as my sentries.”

“Apologies again, High Lord, but we’ve….”

The male outside the door cleared his throat in attempt to communicate that the matter should be discussed privately.

“It’s fine.” Eris grumbled. “Just get on with it.”

“We, well, High Lord, we’ve apprehended the Shadowsinger. He was making an attempt to infiltrate the keep.”

———————————

@going-through-shit @kalulakunundrum @lisanna2000 @fxckmiup @sheblogs @emryb @one-big-fangirl @historygeekqueen @isa1b2h3 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @theravenphoenix26 @sidthedollface2 @i-am-infinite @caraaaaugh @evergreenlark @darkbloodsly @piceous21 @anxious-study @chessebookgirl @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @crazylokonugget @mysticalfuncollectorus @starsinyourseyes @b0xerdancer-writes @inloveallthetime @thegirlinshadows101 @viistrength @grunchwench @starryhiraeth @macimads @feiwelinchen @acourtofbatboydreams @nebarious

[sleepyangelkami]

TRUTH OR DARE e.williams

☆ WORD COUNT - 8.7K

ELLIE WILLIAMS X FEM!READER

☆ SUMMARY - it started out innocently enough. a sinless sleepover shared between two best friends, one much more experienced than the other. but nothing would have prepared the innocent girl for the events led from a simple game of truth or dare, started by ellie williams who knew exactly what she was doing.

 ☆ WARNINGS - smut, oral + fingering (r. receiving), strap sucking (e. recieving), strap fucking, use of 'my dick' and 'my cock' when referring to ellie's strap, tinsey bit of humping, dom!ellie, sub!reader, innocence kink, size kink, spanking, slight age gap (17 - 19), daddy kink (oops), ellie's lowk the town whore, use of pet names, kinda overstimulation, dumbification, inexperienced reader, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

ellie williams was known in jackson, and not only by the way everyone may think. sure, the girl certainly had been known for the amount of work she put into the town by all of it's residents and of course she was known as the cheery girl, joel millers daughter, the same girl that wouldn't even hesitate to help someone unload bags if she spotted them struggling. ellie williams was known as one of the 'glues' of the town, keeping it put together. but how she was known by the teenage girls of jackson was a very different story.

ellie was fourteen when she came to jackson, she had matured much since then and everyone could see that, especially the girls.

It was no secret that ellie williams got around, nor was it a secret that she had slept with more than half of the girls in jackson, some even straight. but what she wasn't known for, was relationships. she was a hit and dip kind of girl, the one that never stayed the night, never attached herself to anyone, she wasn't the kind of girl to be a girlfriend, and believe me when i say... she rejected too many girls to so much as begin to count.

then there was always you.

you were another one of the glues of jackson, respectful and polite, hardworking but in many different ways than ellie was. you were sweet and kind yet awfully shy, hiding into yourself for the most part. sure, you got on well with the elderlies but when it came to actually having a conversation with a teenager, you ran before you could see the light of day. even the thought of it seemed merely impossible. but that wasn't to say that you couldn't handle everyone. you often went on patrols with dina and jesse, you always helped maria and her husband, along with joel miller too. and you never hesitated to help out with the younger kids, feeling much sympathy for them seeing as they had to grow up in the apocalypse, alike you, and you knew it wasn't too peachy yourself.

then there was ellie. oh, how you loved the girl.

when she first got to jackson, you were beyond admiration, fawning over her every move. when you met her it wasn't romantic, no definitely not, but she was older than you were, so fearless of anything in her path, so good at keeping conversation with everyone she met. she was so... cool.

she had girls practically crawling all over her, she was loved, adored, you weren't jealous of the attention in the slightest. you simply admired it, the way she didn't have to move and it seemed that every girl was fawning over her. she had been with at least half of the teenagers in jackson, and it was no help that most of the girls were... well gay.

you had never really thought about it for you never thought about being in a relationship but when ellie constantly spoke about being lesbian, about all the girls she had been with and i mean.. just look at her! you knew then and there that you too had the very same liking towards girls, after all, you had never really seen yourself getting with a boy anyway, not that you had thought about it.

when ellie noticed your admiration, she instantly took you under her wing, she became the best friend you had always longed for, she and you did everything together, spending all your time with one another down to the very last minute when you finally went to sleep. more often than not, you were sleeping at your house with her. your parents always away on guard duty or even on night patrol and you obviously had the bigger house of you two, so naturally, that was where the sleepovers occured.

just like now as you dressed in your shortest shorts in your wardrobe, pretty and pink, silky and slightly flowly though rather tight against your skin as well as your small tank top, pretty and white, little flowers dotted across the fabric. there was nothing worse than those warm nights in jackson, when everyone was asleep and you were left to deal with the heat alone, no one to complain to.

luckily, you were always attached to ellie's hip.

"I'm so warm!" she groaned in front of the fan, her chin on the palm of her hand in which had been propped up on your bed by her elbow, eyes shutting closed, she couldn't stick the heat any more than you could.

"same." you mumbled, lying on your back with one arm over your eyes, the free hand fanning your face, seeing as the girl had practically hogged the fan, snatching it right from you. the short and skimpy clothes did absolutely nothing to sooth the terrible heat sticking to your skin. you were just thankful that the windows were wide open and the fan was spreading cold air across your room for there was nothing worse than legs sticking together with the heat, or sweating in your bed.

ellie sighed, moving from the fan as she propped herself up next to you, she on her stomach, you on your back, however you couldn't so much as notice her with your arm strewn across your eyes. she was in a black wife beater tank top (one of which, when she had told you the name of, you stared at her with your mouth agape stating that it couldn't be true because who on earth would name a t-shirt that) along with grey sweatpants that looked too hot for this weather. you always mocked her for this, stating that she dressed like a twelve year old boy. "let's play a game to distract ourselves from the heat." she suggested and yet... you knew that playful tone from anywhere.

lifting your elbow, you crained your head up just enough to give her a questioning look. "what kind of game?" voice light and unbothered as you slowly put your arm down, looking up at her while she, face still in her arm, looked down at you.

she grinned―no, she smirked down at your pretty face, hand moving away so she could sit up. "okay." already beginning the game. "truth or dare." your groan and you pushing an arm back around your eyes had her pushing your arm back and rolling her eyes at you. "cut the dramatics." she warned in this tone that had your stomach feeling rather strange, not that you'd ever tell her that. "c'mon, don't you trust me?"

that smirk that played on her lips would be the absolute death of you. you sat up, hair falling down over your chest to hide the shape of your nipples through your shirt... you weren't wearing a bra. you didn't think anything of it, it was just ellie, your best friend, she wouldn't care. "truth." but oh, how it drove her crazy.

"boring." she rolled her eyes, settling on the bed as she criss-crossed her legs, elbows falling on each knee. a smile suddenly spread across her face as she picked the perfect question from her mind. "what's your biggest turn on?" oh, she was jumping straight to the point? you couldn't deny the way your eyes blew wide and instantly, heat spread across your cheeks at her question.

instantly, you turned your face away, hands pushing up in a 'no' motion. "mm-mm, no, can't do this with you ellie-" though it wasn't the first time you spoke about sex. of course, ellie would always tell you every detail of her latest conquests and while you should have been disgusted, you were more intrigued, after all, ellie was your personal sex ed guide. ellie couldn't deny it either, that sick obsession with the way your eyes squinted at her, confused, innocent, oh how she would melt on the spot.

yes you can, her hands grasping at your own, stopping them from moving away. "yes you can!" the hands on your own caused you to go impossibly more red, eyes almost begging, but for what? you were still unsure.

you looked at her, eyes falling as you stared straight forward at her. "i don't even know what my biggest turn on is." but that only had the girl scoffing at you.

it was as if she could read you better than you could yourself. "yes you do!" she almost groaned out, throwing her head back, as if you were annoying her, as if you ever could.

"i don't- i guess, uhm..." you bit down on your bottom lip, thinking back to everything she had ever told you about sex, what was your biggest turn on? it was funny, you don't think you have ever thought about it until that very moment when your hands began to brush against your own skin of your arms. "probably... praise?" you mumbled, barely audible. yes, that seemed like you knew what you were talking about for ellie and jesse had explained it in great detail in front of you before, not directly to you, but you heard anyway, while you and dina were busy looking at a photo album. all you knew was that when those certain words were uttered from ellie's lips, you couldn't help but push your thighs together.

ellie smiled, a smile that had her tongue pushing between her teeth. "yeah?" almost teasing you with that look in her eye, but you knew she wasn't judging either, there was a fine line between teasing and judging, ellie would never cross past the mockery.

"yes, now shut up!" you giggled excitedly, tossing the pillow into her face. however, you remembered to take note of the fact that your parents were home tonight and you didn't wish to make too much noise, otherwise they may come in and the last thing you needed was them overhearing this conversation.

ellie caught the pillow, chuckling as she set it aside, grinning at the funny look on your face. what you thought was awkward, what she thought was downright adorable. "your turn." she nodded at you.

you sat up straighter, moving your hands to stretch out your arms. "truth or dare, els?" the position you were in was anything but comfortable, straining your back.

"fuck it." she spoke, pushing her back up against your many pillows on the bed, you were envious of her. "i'll go with truth too."

now it was your turn to roll your eyes, seeing as she had called you boring for doing the exact thing she was doing now. "hmm, lemme see." you placed a finger on your chin, jokingly, though you were, in fact, in deep thought. you wondered what you'd ask her, there were many questions you wished to ask her before, all about the same topic she just loved to bring up, sex, but you weren't as outgoing nor as confident as she was so when you asked, you were sure it sounded too awkward, not as 'seductive' as she. "what does shower sex feel like?" you suddenly questioned, like an inquisitive student to her teacher.

ellie laughed in your face. "what?"

"what?" you threw your hands up in defence, though you couldn't deny the heat that spread across your cheeks and the embarrassment through your body. "i wanna know and you're like... the sex god?" and now you were really embarrassed.

ellie barked out laughter, throwing her head back again as her hand came down on her stomach, after all, you had called her a sex god, despite the way you meant it. "fuck, i can't!" turning over on her stomach, burying her face into your many plush pillows.

your cheeks were stained crimson. "that's not what i meant!" you protested, simply meaning that she knew so much, not that she was that good. you kicked her leg and just as you were about to toss a pillow at her, you realised you had no more. "just answer the question and save me my pride." hiding your face away in your hands.

"your pride is swallowed, angel." sitting up straight with a simple grin on her face, however, you didn't remove your hands from your own. "it feels good." you peeked through your fingers, she saw that and grinned. she slowly lowered her hand, your eyes watched as her her fingers came down to trace the skin of your leg, you ignored the goosebumps it left, she didn't. "usually starts off with... little massages, gets you all relaxed, you know?" she was practically whispering, suddenly, her body seemed so much closer. "and when you're all relaxed like that, soaking in hot water, the smell of soaps... everything's just so much better." her eyes moved up to your own, your hands had fallen by your side, you gulped gently, a smirk returned on her lips. "truth or dare, angel?"

your body almost let out a whimper, instead, your lips pressed into a thin line. there was a feeling in your throat, though, one that screamed at you to make a noise. but you knew you couldn't, of course you couldn't. "dare." you mumbled, exciting and yet surprising yourself.

you must have surprised ellie too, judging by her face, you definitely did. "oh... someone's confident." shock washing from her face almost instantly, she was well prepared, you weren't. "hmm... okay, I dare you to call me the nickname of my choosing for the rest of the game." okay, you thought, lips turning upwards as you nodded, that wouldn't be hard at all. "and if you mess up... i get to spank you." shrugging as she moved her body backwards, back against the pillows once again.

your eyes blew wide and your mouth fell agape, and yet still, ellie seemed completely unphased. "that's completely absurd el-" she watched you, her mouth opening, waiting for you to mess up. you glared at her. "what's the damn nickname." you grumbled, eyes cast down, though you couldn't deny the sudden excitement rumbling in your stomach, yet also nervousness, itching at the back of your throat once more.

"drop the attitude, will you, bun?" leaning forward again. she knew she could turn the situation around for the worst and she would, why wouldn't she? it was ellie williams for god sake. "the nicknames' daddy." and that was your final straw, eyes almost popping out of your skull. "something wrong? can't handle a simple dare?"

"no." you deadpanned, eyes squinting at her. "i can handle it just fine... daddy." the word seemed foreign, weird, you internally cringed and while ellie smirked, she didn't say another word, she'd wait to embarrass you about it later. "your turn, truth or dare?"

with sudden confidence, one of which it seemed she always had, she answered the question rather swiftly. "dare." without so much as hesitating.

"i dare you to...." looking around the room, you had to get her back but in what way? your eyes suddenly fell on your wardrobe and a grin spread across your face. "show me your polaroids." sure, it was your room but in a box at the bottom of your wardrobe, behind all your clothes and hidden away was all ellie's 'things'. at first, when the girl had practically begged you to keep all of her 'sex things' in your wardrobe, you instantly shut her down, shaking your head and stating that you wouldn't have her strap or other slutty belongings hidden away in your room. however, when she told you the story of joel threatening to tear her room apart to find what he was looking for, you couldn't exactly say no. your parents never entered your room without consent, let alone searched it. it was a place ellie knew her stuff would be safe, and you were her best and friend and oh how you admired her, how could you say no?

ellie stared at you momentarily. "fine." she moved her hands underneath her and made her way over to the wardrobe, opening it and fishing her hands in behind your clothing. you sat on the bed, watching as she opened the box, grasping the polaroid pictures and pushing the box back behind your clothes again, covering it altogether. "now." tossing them onto the bed, right next to you. "do with them, what you please."

you ignored her poor use of grammar and picked up the one closest to your leg while grimacing. you didn't want to look at photos of ellie and her sex buddies but you wanted her to care, to suddenly get nervous and anxious, to twitch and blush the way you do. but she never did, an amused look on her face as she watched yours. you flipped over the polaroid, eyes turning wide. there sat a picture between your finger tips, something strapped into ellie and... inside someone else. you couldn't see the strap really for it was plunged too deep inside some blonde girl, one of which ellie was tugging the hair of. "ew." the look on your face doing nothing to hide the pure distaste you had or the photograph. "who even is that?"

you're question caused the girl to turn around, settling herself right next to you. your knees that were propped up slowly slipped and she took a hold of the polaroid only she didn't take it from your hands, instead she placed hers on top of yours to turn it her way. "no idea." she shrugged and you placed the picture back on the bed.

"what do you mean?" you all but stretched out your sentence. "you just look at someone and say 'you're hot, I wanna have sex with you' and that's... it?" it baffled you, how you could just have sex with a nobody, someone you had no connection to at all, a face you couldn't even remember.

ellie shrugged her shoulders once more. "pretty much." she shrugged her shoulders. you gave the polaroids a look of slight disgust as she picked them up off the bed, rolling her eyes. huffing, she found her way back to the box, placing them back inside before seating herself back onto the bed. "truth of dare."

"truth." deciding that the last dare was much too far, you needed to get it back to the normal tension, not this one for it was much too hot, you couldn't handle it. then again, ellie was anything but casual, she was sure to make this hard for you.

she looked as though she had already planned this out, which she had, a thousand times in her head. "who's the first person you fantasised about?" eyes going wide for a moment as she grinned at you. yes, she surely was not going to make it easy.

you. the simple answer, to the simple question however none of this was truly simple, so you answered. "katy perry, obviously." rolling your eyes as if she had known this already, which she had, she just didn't know that it was a lie.

"oh, come on." she placed her hands on her knees to stabilize herself. "you saw her showing a little too much skin in one magazine and your frigid ass went ballistic." it was true, you had seen her in a magazine one day on patrol and you simply stared, a little starstruck.

"shut up, that's so not true." but oh how it was. you were a prude, at least that was what the teenage boys called you. you didn't engage in any 'activities' nor did you hear much about them unless it were from ellie, but seeing something? well it was graphic enough for your eyes to blow as wide as saucers. "truth or dare?"

"truth." ellie answered almost instantly, without missing a beat.

"stop copying me." you rolled your eyes at her. "uhhh..." rocking forward and backwards with your hands on your knees. "do you think anyone could ever think of... me that way?" tilting your head, sudden insecurities slapping you right in the face. you didn't wish to sound whiny, or insecure but it was ellie williams, she was your best friend and she knew you better than anyone and she had probably the most experience in the entire town, she'd know if you were capable.

"y/n l/n!" she almost shouted, a wide smile stretched across her face, she fawned shock. "are you asking me if i think you're hot."

"my god." you groaned, shoving your face right into a pillow because ellie williams truly never knew when to be serious, and you hated the way every time she laughed, your face felt hot and flush. the sound of a knock on the door caused you both to stop, heads instantly whipping towards the door. "come in!" you yelled out to your parents, you knew it was them for there was no one else home.

"hi, sweetheart." in came your mother, a smile on her wrinkled face, you made an effort to smile back. "hi, ellie." she was met with a wave before she turned back to her daughter. "me and your father are going out for night patrol now, alright? you and ellie might fancy watching a movie down in the living room now that you have the dvd player all to yourselves."

"okay, thank you, mom." you rose from your bed, giving her a short hug. you were touchy like that, especially with your parents, always making sure to give them hugs whenever you saw them, it was just the way you were. "love you, you and dad be safe, okay?"

"always are." she grinned, placing a chaste kiss on your head. "see you later." and just like that, the night turned around, maybe for the better, maybe for the worst, you weren't too sure. all you knew was that at one minute you were sitting in your bedroom, clenching your legs together and ignoring your scratchy throat with your parents downstairs and the next they were gone further beyond the walls while you and ellie sat on the couch, watching some shitty western movie she had borrowed from she and joel's house before, she never did give it back.

for the entire movie, you sat at one end of the couch, curled up with your head laying on the arm rest, knees almost against your chest while ellie sat at the other, legs spread wide and her elbow resting against the back of the couch, fingers toying with the bottom of her mullet like hair.

the rest of the night passed by smoothly. after the movie, you and ellie had agreed to go to bed seeing as you were both awfully tired. however, upon slipping into bed, the lights off and curtain drawn, you realised you weren't actually tired, no, for it was only mere fake tiredness from staring at all of those pixels on the screen.

you stared into the black abyss, ignoring the awfully silent room. you turned, uncomfortable so that now you weren't facing the wall but ellie's back. but you knew from the lack of snores filling the room that ellie too was not asleep for she usually snored rather loud. she sensed you turning around and undoubtedly did the same, eyes open. she gave you a grin. "hi." she whispered into the dark.

you couldn't help but give a toothy smile back. "hi." whispering back, though you weren't sure why you were whispering for it was just you two in the entire house. perhaps it was the dark making you feel as though you should be asleep, so you gently turned around, flicking on the small lampshade next to your bed before plopping back to your original space, huffing out a breath. your eyes fell on ellie's in which were tracing your entire body over. "what?" you giggled.

but she looked up at you with an almost baffled look. the light illuminated her skin and it seemed to make her impossibly more pretty despite the fact you could barely see her face through the darkness. her hand came to your face, two fingers pushing your hair behind your ear. "people think of you like that." she whispered, answering your truth question from much earlier. "i know they do." she knew she did. "truth your dare, baby?"

you ignored the way your stomach twisted in nerves and your cheeks felt as though they were on fire. "We're playing that game again?" almost groaning as if you didn't want this, as if your heart wasn't in your mouth, as if there wasn't something pooling in your underwear.

ellie's mouth turned upwards into a little smirk. "we never stopped." she spoke in an agonisingly teasing tone as she moved her face closer to your own. if she moved another inch or two, your noses would be touching. "so, truth or dare?"

you found your own hands fumbling with one another. "truth." answering, attempting to start it off easily, however, ellie wouldn't make it easy for you, you knew that.

her fingers moved to your arm, stroking up and down your exposed skin due to your white spaghetti strap top. "do you touch yourself a lot?" her voice a low mumble, you wondered how she could say it so casually, as if she wasn't effected by the spoken words, and that alone seemed as though it were impossible.

your cheeks flamed a hot crimson colour. you would have protested, stating that it were too inappropriate to speak of, but you didn't, why? you didn't know. but you didn't protest, you couldn't because you knew deep down that you had dreamed of this moment since you met her. "sometimes..." you muttered back, voice wavering. "not a lot." but on the nights you did, it was a feeling unlike you ever could have imagined.

"yeah?" you nodded your head dumbly. "how?"

and as badly as you wished to answer, as badly as you wanted her to know everything, you couldn't for your embarrassment prohibited you from it. "it's not your turn." you mumbled, embarrassment thick in your veins as the girls lips curled upwards once more. "truth or dare?"

you wanted her to pick dare, you wanted to choose something completely wild but you knew she wouldn't because for every question in this game, she's chosen the very same as you did. "truth." she responded swiftly.

"have... you ever thought of me like that?" had she ever fantasized about you, is what you wanted to know, what you needed to know. you needed to know if she felt the same, if she too spent her nights with dirty thoughts occupying her mind. dirty thoughts about you, like the ones you had about her.

"all the time." She mumbled and your heart dropped to your ass. "sometimes when i'm... with someone-" her hand still stroking up your arm. "i have to imagine it's you to finish- no, not sometimes." she corrected. "every single fucking time." and you didn't know how to breathe. "truth or dare?"

thankfully, ellie had moved it right on, so you could be free of those smothering thoughts, the ones that had your thighs clenching together right now. "dare." because if you choose truth, she'd simply ask you the very same thing she did beforehand. 'how' did you touch yourself, that was something you didn't know if you were ready to say or not.

ellie's lips curved upwards into a smug smirk. you had walked right into her trap. "show me how you touch yourself." and this was worse. way way worse.

"wha-" suddenly all your breath had left your lungs. "i can't just-"

but ellie was quick to cut you off. "a dare is a dare, angel." shrugging her shoulders as she sat up, you followed in suit. "unless you're too scared." she shrugged her shoulders and if there was one thing you hated more than this situation altogether it was backing down to ellie, her thinking that you were 'scared' even when you were.

you huffed out, staring at her with her big dopey smile spread across her face. "fine." you spoke, voice wobbling once more. "but you can't make fun of me."

"me?" ellie fawned shock. "I'd never." and you rolled your eyes at that one. "whenever you're ready, baby." you'd never be ready but there was a certain haze over the room, a certain gloss over your eyes that told you to do it, maybe it was your cunt talking, you didn't much care, simply huffing out a breath as you prepared yourself. nothing would prepare you for this moment, the moment you had fantasized about since you were twelve. you moved to grab a pillow, a pink, satin one to be exact. ellie couldn't stop her smirk, you have got to be kidding me, she thought, unable to contain her smug features. you truly had no idea what you were doing. you couldn't look at her, not when you lowered yourself down onto the pillow, still clad in your pink shorts that pushed out by your ass. "it's okay, honey, take your time." her soothing voice actually helped and you finally lowered yourself down onto the pillow which you had done a thousand times before... but now that there was someone watching, you couldn't contain your nervousness.

you let out a shaky breath as your hands fell down, grasping at the pillow to hold it in place. ellie watched your small form get comfortable before rutting your hips forward. at first, you were met with mere ruts, small pathetic breaths until finally, the sensation began to built up in your tummy. maybe it was because of the pillow or maybe it was because she was watching. you don't know what possessed you but it was almost as if you had forgotten she was in the room with you. you rolled your hips against the pillow again and again, this time with more force and much faster, no stops in between. a mewl fell from your lips as you pushed your ass out again, the friction from the pillow against your clit was... good but surely not enough.

luckily for you, ellie could see right through you. she knew you better than anyone and she knew just how to make you feel good. "poor baby." she cooed causing you to rut your hips again, pathetic whimper falling from your lips. "you've never came with this, have you?" you eventually slowed to a stop, the feeling of her hand on your thigh enough to cause the heat in your panties to pool further. you shook your head, holding back an embarrassed whimper. she moved up, lips against your ear. "need daddy to help you feel good?" you had forgotten all about the nickname from before but hearing it roll of her tongue, uttered from her lips, you found yourself audibly whining as you nodded your head swiftly. she placed a chaste kiss against your neck. "words, bun."

"need you to help me." your voice turned into a whine, one you had never heard from your own lips, in fact, you had never heard anybody so needy, you were almost embarrassed. almost. the haze over your eyes stopped you from feeling like that. "please." ellie had enough.

she was quick to flip you over, pushing the pillow from underneath you and out onto your bedroom floor. she wasn't hovering over you for a second before she had dipped her head down, roughly kissing your lips. this was the first kiss you had ever recieved and you found yourself never wanting something more. her hands were on your waist, yours around her neck as you pushed your head up to kiss against her lips just as roughly, needy, sloppily. she herself couldn't get enough. making out with you had been what she dreamed of since she had become friends with you and now she was here, she wasn't going to let you go easily.

ellie didn't know how to tell you something, so instead, she let you feel it. she grinded her core against yours allowing you to feel the strap already strapped to her beneath her sweatpants. you gasped at her, mouth detatching from her own. "when did you-" shocked as you felt it grind against your core, letting out a whimper that cut you off instantly.

she breathed heavily against your lips, a grin on her face. "when you went to the bathroom." she stated as if it were some little secret she had been dying to share with you. you couldn't contain your noises as she grinded against you again, this time slower, raking up your shorts as she did. "fuck, need to take these off you." she spoke, pulling at your pink shorts. "can i take them off you, angel?"

"please." you whined, watching as she nodded her head, moving her hands so she could grasp at the waistband, pulling it clean off you and simply leaving you with your white cotton panties on, a very much so obvious wet patch on them.

"fuck." she grunted, tossing the shorts somewhere on the ground, presumedly with the pillow. "all worked up already?" she moved her hand, finger gently tracing over the circle on your panties, your little wet patch that drove her absolutely insane, almost over the edge.

you weren't stupid, you knew what happened next and you simply couldn't wait. "please." you begged, whimpering into thin air as you bucked your hips forward. "please just t-touch me." and ellie waited, you knew what she was waiting for so you didn't keep her waiting long, after all, you didn't much like to wait either. "please, daddy." words almost a whispered whine.

"good girl." she praised, grasping at your panties so she could pull them down your legs. you shifted, squirming as your core met the cold air of the bedroom. ellie shoved the panties into her sweatpants pocket, you didn't bother say a word, too busy waiting in anticipation for what she would do next. ellie's eyes met your core, a small grunt leaving her mouth as she dipped her fingers down. her head turned up, watching your face contort at the feeling of her fingers pressing against your lips, one finger sliding through to collect the slick. she turned her head back down, pulling her fingers away and spreading them, looking at your slick that coated it, she found herself laughing. "fuck, you're so wet, aren't you?" you didn't wish to respond, hands falling on your face to cover your blushed cheeks. "nuh-uh, none of that." pushing her clean hand up to pull your own away, you stared at her with crimson cheeks. "use your words." she whispered against your ear, placing a kiss right beneath the lobe. "use your words or i'll stop."

you whined with your lips shut at that. "a-all for you." you mumbled out embarrassingly but you never took your eyes off of her.

she hummed, a smirk on her lips. "I'm sure." she pushed her fingers back down again, pointer finger rubbing tight circles around your clit, she watched as you moaned out, flushed cheek against her shoulder as she practically hovered over your side. she did it again and again, watching your face change and listening to your pathetic little mewls falling from your lips. the sight was straight up pornographic. so, of course, the girl just had to push you even further. she moved her middle finger, lining it up with your core and plunged a finger in.

"oh my god!" you held onto her biscep, listening to her laugh as she pumped the finger in and out of you, you had never done anything like this before. you should have been scared, but you were too busy thinking about the feeling building up in your stomach, the one that was familiar yet oh so foreign. you had felt good before but this... this was very different.

"yeah? you like that, hm?" almost teasing tone as she pushed another finger in causing you to squeal loudly. the feeling of her two slender yet very long fingers pumping in and out of you caused many different sounds to fall from your lips, ellie wondered how many she'd be able to get out of you. she picked up her pace, sliding them in and out with ease as they were coated in your thick juices. she thanked god you were so wet, it made it so much easier to play with your pussy. though, she did hope god was nowhere near that bedroom in that given moment. "feels good, angel?"

you whined, nodding your head. "s-so good." you clutched at her shirt, hoping for something to bring you back down to earth, but it wouldn't work. on the contrary, it only fuelled her to go faster. "i think, i'm gonna-"

you had never orgasmed before, but this was the best you had ever felt. surely, this was how it felt to being close. and ellie could tell you were too for your core clenched around her fingers, practically swallowing them whole. "i know, angel, it's okay." she moved her thumb up, rubbing circles against your clit as she continued to move her fingers in and out of your tight hole, she wondered how on earth her strap was supposed to fit inside there. "let go f'me, bunny." and you did. there were a string of moans leaving your mouth, including... her name. she smirked up at you, knowing you hadn't the slightest clue of the mistake you made by moaning out her name. however, she was sure to have fun with it nonetheless.

she waited until you came down from your high, until your moans had just turned to harsh breaths, quick pants as you laid on your back, blinking heavily. never in your life had you ever felt so good, your core almost felt strange without her fingers inside of it. you had gotten a taste, you needed so so much more, you needed everything.

you felt ellie bend her head down, pressing chaste kisses against your neck as you breathed out another pant, eyes chasing hers. she returned her face towards yours, a knowing smirk plastered on it, your brows furrowed. "think you called me by the wrong name, honey." your jaw went slack at the realisation. "games not over yet." at the same time as fear entered your body, excitement ran through it.

ellie was quick to move, pushing you instantly so that you were draped across her lap, she manhandled you, as if you were a toy, so easy to pick up and toss around. and in her eyes, you truly were. after all, she had picked you up and thrown you across her lap as if you were, in fact, a doll. "wait." you whined out, suddenly scared. you knew that you had agreed to the dare but the thought of her hand coming in contact with your ass, the thought of her hurting you, it was rather scary. " 'm sorry daddy." you cried out pathetically, as if it would save you now.

"i know you are, bunny." her hand came down on your bare ass gently, rubbing along your skin as if you were a china doll made of glass, she grinned as you practically held onto her leg. you almost thought that she was going to let you off, but you knew better. "that's why daddys gonna be really nice to you tonight. i'll only give you five, 'kay?" you nodded your head despite your wobbling lip, this earned a small swat to your bottom. "words, angel."

"okay, daddy." mumbling out adorably as you held onto ellie as much as you could, scared that if you let go she'd disappear. your eyes shut close together at the feeling of her hand lifting from your ass. you squinted them close, ready for heavy impact and well.. pain. but as her hand came down, slapping your skin harshly, you didn't feel all too much in pain. it was a sort of elevating, almost gratifying feeling. you wondered, why would something that was suppose to cause pain, actually cause pleasure? or, was that the whole point in the first place? your thoughts of rambling were cut off by another slap. you flinched, despite the feeling of pleasure, it still stung and you could only imagine how red your ass would be now. you flinched in her lap, causing her large hand to have to hold you in place so you didn't move. you whined out as the third hit came down on your pretty skin. ellie smirked to herself, her plan working out gracefully.

she rubbed your skin once more, placing a chaste kiss on the bottom of your back before returning. "you're doin' so good for daddy, baby, you'll get a reward later, m'kay?" but this time, she didn't offer you a chance to respond, didn't even give you time to do so for she was spanking you once more. you wondered if this was her plan all along, why she had ever bothered to play truth or dare in the first place. but despite ellie's wild imagination about you, and about this very moment, you across her lap and her own hand spanking you, she didn't actually intend for it to go this far, however, she loved it more than she could ever explain. "one more, bun." and that was it, one more sharp stinging slap as you flinched once more, teary eyed and pouty lips as the girl allowed you to crawl into her lap.

ellie's lips were far from a pout herself, on the contrary, there was a pretty smile playing on it. she pushed your hair behind your ear. "was so good for daddy, weren't you baby?" you nodded your head as you pushed it into the crook of her neck. she began to rock her hips slightly, knowing that her strap was bumping against your already soaked and sensitive pussy. "yeah, my good girl." rubbing your sides up and down. "what do you say i give you that reward now, hm?" you sat in her lap, nodding your head briskly.

it didn't take long to get to where you were. sitting on your knees completely naked in front of ellie who too was now completely naked all except for the strap that was strapped to her lower half, dangling in front of you as your mouth completely covered it. it was neon pink, pretty and... very long. your eyes were shut as your tongue felt around the silicone toy, whimpering as it hit the back of your throat.

ellie had earlier stated that she was going to fuck you with it and of course with big eyes and a watering mouth, you indefinitely agreed to it but when she told you that you'd need to prepare first, you had no idea what she was talking about. you were scared, nervous, completely gone timid, worried you'd mess up in some way. nonetheless, when you finally had her strap in your mouth, you couldn't get enough.

ellie was sitting on the bed, legs spread apart as if she were man spreading while you knelt on the ground, hands holding onto her thighs after she had guided the toy in between your lips. you moaned into it as she pushed your head down further. her hand had somehow would up at the back of your head, fingers interlacing your locks of hair.

she pushed your head down on the strap, bobbing it so that the strap moved, bumping against her own clit. "fuck, just like that." her voice tight, her throat closing up. but she could feel it, the stimulation becoming oh so much, so she forced your head up, allowing you to stop. you watched her closely, moving your head away so that a string of spit connected your lips with her strap. "fuck, baby, y'look so pretty like this." she mumbled, her thumb swiping across your glossy lips, she groaned, she couldn't get enough. "c'mere." patting the bed as she too readied herself.

" 'kay." you mumbled, standing up on your wobbly legs. you felt them become like jelly beneath you, whether it was from your first orgasm, whether it was due to the spanking you had recieved from earlier or it was simply because you had been on your knees for rather long, or perhaps it was a combination of them all. you sat yourself on the bed, instantly becoming attacked by ellie's kisses.

her hand came up to sooth your cheek, fingers softly padding against your lithe skin. she sloppily kissed you, hot, open mouthed and messy kisses. you moaned into it, finding it hard to kiss back, the heat in your core suddenly returning as you felt your own hand sitting between your legs, you found yourself almost grinding on it. you couldn't take it, though, not when you felt so high and yet recieved no friction in where you needed it the most.

ellie noticed this, however, she never scolded you, instead she simply pushed your shoulders back gently. the kiss was detatched as you found your body falling limp against the mattress beneath you. however, the girl instantly towered over your frame, lips pushing down to meet your own. there was a sense of need, one of desperation as you kissed her back, finding your lips completely chasing her own.

she made a move to stand her hands on either side of your head, trapping you while she also lined herself up, making it easy to slip in, but she didn't. she moved one hand down, not breaking the kiss as she slightly pumped the silicone dick, lining it up with your entrance but only allowing the tip to tease at your hole. you whined out harshly, grasping at her shoulders and looking up at her with big doey eyes.

"what's wrong baby?" she asked in such a condescending voice, knowing how desperately you needed her. but how dumb you felt now, you couldn't even speak, words becoming a complete mush inside your brain. "c'mon, can't give you what you want if you don't tell me what it is, bunny." fingers stroking at your inner thigh.

you simply couldn't help it anymore, despite as dumb as you felt. "please, daddy, please— need it so bad, please, just want you in me please, please!" you were a babbling, waffling mess as you tried anything you could, even bucking your own hips in hopes of slipping her strap in further.

her lips came down to kiss against your neck, cutting off your babbles with a whimper. "as you wish, love." and slowly, she entered. you moaned out, wincing slightly as your hands clawed at her bare back, not so much as covered in a bra by now. you couldn't help the way you clenched around it, sensitive area already so stimulated. you felt dumb, completely and utterly fucked out by just her fingers. "fuck." she grunted, her head bent down low to meet the crook of your neck, hovering over you as her strap made it's way inside. "fuck, that hurt?" but you didn't respond, simply shaking your head with an 'mm-mm' because, truly, it was all you could muster.

however, it did hurt, just a slight stinging feeling but it soon went away. ellie could tell this, despite your answer because ellie knew you better than you knew yourself and she certainly knew your body. so, she didn't move for a brief moment, allowing you to collect yourself and breathe a breath out. "c-can you move?" you asked feebly, you knew she was awaiting your command, but you found it so incredibly hard to ask, you knew you shouldn't feel so embarrassed. after all, it was ellie, your best friend, the girl you had been so utterly in love with since you laid eyes upon her. there was no one you'd rather be doing this with.

" 'course i can, baby." pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek before she began to move.

it began slow, the way her hips slowly pulled out, not the full way, of course, then slowly pushing back in. the pace began to pick up after that and her thrust was a little more powerful. her eyes strained down on where you met, she couldn't help the groans that left her lips at your pitiful whimpers, the ones in which it awfully hard to stop herself from letting go completely.

but soon after she found you both comfortable. she did, in fact, let go.

she was soon enough slamming her hips against your own. it didn't take long, for her self control to be thrown right out of the window. she didn't stop her swift pace at anything. the room had a lingering smell of sex, there were beads of sweat on both your foreheads. "fuck, yeah, taking my dick so well." she grunted out, shoving her strap into your pussy further, allowing it to reach your g spot as you moaned out loudly.

your legs had soon found themselves wrapped around her waist, her hand on the bottom of your lower back as you found your own arms holding her shoulders close. she could feel your tits against her own, pushing up against her as she fucked you with everything she could, free had on your thigh, prodding and squishing at the loose fat while her strap pumped into your tight hole. you were a babbling mess, moaning and mewling, fast whimpers falling from your lips and all rather loud. but how could you fight it? when her 'dick' felt so good inside of you, when she pumped it so hard yet so delicately. you felt as though you were on fire, you were sure, there was no better feeling than this. you felt so good that you couldn't even form coherent sentences.

with your whines and mewls she only picked up her pace, strap bumping against her clit as she fucked you hard, practically fucking you right into the mattress. "you like my cock?" she panted out, heavy and quick. she took your mewl and went with it, a big smirk plastered onto her face. "fuck, yeah you like daddy's cock." and you couldn't even deny it, for it was very true.

there was a feeling building up in your stomach, one of which had you screaming. you knew exactly what it was, for you had felt it the same way you did beforehand, the very same feeling you felt when her fingers were buried into your tight hole. and ellie too, could feel her own stomach building up with tension. she glanced down, to where her strap disappeared inside your tiny hole, a creamy ring sitting at the base of where you connected. down to every girl she had ever fucked, this was undoubtedly the best. she had never felt so euphoric in her entire life.

your high pitched whine, attempt to babble out words, it alerted ellie just what who was coming. "i know, i know." shushing you like a baby as he held onto you as tight as she could, her knuckles turning a white colour instead of her naturally olive skin. she too let out more grunts than she could afford, barely able to keep her noises contained as she rammed her hips against yours. "come f'me, angel, come on daddy's cock." and that was it, once again you were falling apart like mush in her hands.

the sight of you, turning to putty in her very own arms, she couldn't help herself, she too felt herself letting go. she turned her hips into sloppy slaps against your body, lips chasing yours as she attempted to kiss you hard yet messily, you could barely kiss back, however you did your very best, wanting nothing more than to please ellie.

finally, she slipped her silicone strap outside of you, turning to lay on her side as she still held you in her arms. your own hands came up to grasp her strong bicep, tired and droopy eyes not bothering to so much as look up at her. you couldn't move, too dumb, too fucked out, you couldn't so much as utter a word. at that, ellie grinned a wide grin, knowing only two orgasms had you so fucked out and overstimulated, she felt pride booming in her chest for after all, she did that. "truth or dare, baby?" she joked causing you to roll your eyes.

with all the energy you could, you shoved her chest a little. "shut up." you mumbled before sticking your head right between her arms and her chest, allowing yourself to burrow.

main masterlist/ellie's masterlist

[svnoohe4rts]

ENHYPEN HYUNG LINE : WHEN YOU GET TIRED FROM RIDING THEM !

pairing : enhypen hyung line x fembodied!reader

a/n : now i have no idea why they kept getting longer and longer .. these were just supposed to be short drabbles ,,, oh well ! thank u to the anon who requested this <3 all feedback is appreciated !

warnings : SMUT ! MDNI .  | choking, slight pain kink i guess ? dom!enha hyung line let me know if there’s anything else i should add !

: ̗̀➛  l e e  h e e s e u n g

heeseung’s first reaction of you getting tired from riding him would be to laugh. this man would laugh at you for getting tired, his fingernails would dig into your hips as he literally forces you to keep going.

“you’re getting tired? i don’t think so.”

“you were the one who wanted to ride me, remember?”

he would be such a menace. would only smirk when you nuzzle your face into the nape of his neck, listening to you whine about how you can’t keep going because it feels like your legs is about to give out; only fueling him on even further. he’d help you bounce on his cock, the mix of moans and whines trailing off your lips causing him to slam your hips down even harder - just to hear you whine even more.

“if you cum for me like this, i’ll let you lay down, okay?”

read the rest under the cut !

: ̗̀➛  p a r k  j o n g s e o n g

jay would definitely encourage you to keep going, no matter what mood he’s in. i think we’ve all established the fact that there’s two types of fucking with jay, either he’s gentle but still somewhat rough, or he’s rough. like, really rough.

but no matter what mood he’s in or what type of sex you’re having, you being comfortable is always his number one priority.

“what was that? your legs are hurting?”

“aw, is my baby in pain? but you were so eager to ride me just a minute ago?”

would press reassuring kisses along your jawline, his hands stroking your sides as he helps you bounce on his cock. would whisper sweet nothings into your ear as well, just simple words of reassurance like “you’re doing so well for me,” or “look at you, being such a good girl,”.

as i said, he’d definitely encourage you to keep going but if he notices that you’re really struggling he won’t hesitate to flip your around, wanting what’s best for his baby.

“good girl, let me take over, hm? i’ll make you feel good baby.”

: ̗̀➛ s i m  j a e y u n

now jake would be the one whining if you get tired from riding him. sure, you’d also be whining; but jake? he’d definitely be whining more than you.

i feel like jake absolutely loves whenever you ride him, he feels like he’s on top of the world whenever he has you bouncing on his cock, your tits on full display for him to grab and suck on. so if he sees how you’re slowing down or how you’re not enjoying yourself like were just a minute ago - his heart would drop.

“are you okay baby?”

“you can keep going, right?”

his hands would be placed on your hips in an instant, his big pleading eyes looking straight at you as he grabs onto your flesh in attempt for you to keep going.

“you’re doing so well, you want to cum on my cock, don’t you?”

“just a little longer, you can do it, be a good girl and keep going.”

he’d let you rest your body on top of him, your breasts pressed up against his bare chest as his hands would travel down to grab your ass. he’d let out deep groans and pants as he guides your lower body up and down using his hands, squeezing your ass every now and then; pressing kisses against your shoulders as he listens to you whine into the pillow.

“yeah, that’s a good girl.”

: ̗̀➛ p a r k  s u n g h o o n

sunghoon would show no mercy whatsoever. he wouldn’t even acknowledge the fact that you’re getting tired. no, this man would only hiss through gritted teeth as he watches you bounce on top of him, wrapping his hand around your throat the second a whine leaves your lips.

“why are you whining? don’t tell me you’re getting tired already,”

would only tighten the grasp around your neck if you slow down, shaking his head in dissatisfaction as he used his free hand to land a painful sting across one of your ass cheeks.

“you don’t stop until i tell you to stop, you understand?”

sunghoon would definitely be the only one who would force you to bounce on his cock until you cry. the rest of the boys would stop and let you rest once they see you tearing up, sunghoon, however? no, that only makes him want you to keep riding him even more.

“are you crying? is my cock really that good?”

“if you don’t stop whining i’ll stop all together.”

of course he has no plans on stopping, but it seems to work as you continue to bounce on his cock even though you can’t even feel your legs at this point. it’s not until he hears a broken sob emerge from the back of your throat that he loosens his grip around your throat and let you lay down on his chest, his cock still buried inside of you.

he’d keep pounding into you, stroking your hair but keeping one hand on your ass; occasionally slapping it.

“what am i supposed to do with you, hm? you wanna cum? i don’t think so.”

[xxchumanixx]

fake dating tim bradford 🙏🏼🙏🏼 do as you will

Fake it 'til you make it

Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Warnings/Tags: jealousy, fluff, a little angst if you squint, unspoken feelings

Word count: 2.325

Authors note: Hello, love, thanks for the request! I really hope this lives up to your expectations! The idea with the class reunion came rather spontaneously, but I hope it's good enough!

Enjoy!

Tim Bradford Masterlist

It's wasn't that you couldn't find a date - you just couldn't find one with the right person.

At least that's what you told yourself whilst looking at the e-mail displayed on your phone, sighing inwardly.

Your class from high-school planned to make a reunion, a shitty excuse to talk about the things you had accomplished over the last years and how great your lives were.

Rolling your eyes you locked your phone, still thinking about the last part of the mail, where you were told to bring your partner, husband or 'soulmate' - if you had one.

But you didn't.

Looking up, after shoving the phone inside your pocket, your eyes met Tim's. He rose a brow questioningly, sipping his beer.

Sighing you took a sip of your own, your gaze wandering over the crowd gathered at the food truck, before you looked back to him.

Or you just couldn't date the man you secretly loved - but that was another story.

"My class from high-school wants to make a reunion." you explained, shaking your head slightly, as you peeled off the corner of the sticker on your bottle.

"Sounds nice, have fun." Tim gave back nonchalantly, causing you to look at him in confusion. "Not that I'd voluntarily go to a class reunion." he added, and you groaned.

"Yeah, I'm not sure if I'll go, either." you told him, wiping over your face with your free hand. Again he rose a brow, tilting his head slightly as he waited for you to explain.

"Class reunions are just a shitty excuse to brag about your career, your wonderful life and not to forget: 'your partner, husband or soulmate'."

His brows knitted together as he chuckled silently at your quoted words.

"And what exactly is your problem?" he asked, taking another sip, before continuing, not waiting for an answer. "Your making career at the LAPD, have a good life, so I assume it's the 'soulmate' thing."

Rolling your eyes you couldn't help but smile.

"Yeah, maybe it's the 'lacking boyfriend' problem." you confirmed, your smile slowly fading. "I don't want them to think that I'm still single, that I still wasn't able to find someone willing to date me."

Shaking his head he leaned forward on the table, elbows resting on the scratched wood.

"Why is this so important to you? I'm a divorced single, and I don't give a fuck about what other people think about it."

Sighing you looked away for a second.

"Other people aren't Stacy Howard, Tim." you told him, when you looked back. His brows knitted together. "Who?"

"Stacy Howard was the most popular girl at my school." you explained, struggling to hold his gaze as it sent pleasant shivers down your spine. "And she just so happened to be in my class. She used every opportunity to bully me, mostly making fun of me for not finding a boyfriend."

He leaned back a little, now understanding why you didn't want to go alone.

It was silent for a while as you watched your Rookies talking in a small group.

"What if you go with a fake boyfriend?" Tim suddenly broke the silence, causing your gaze to snap back to his.

"What do you mean?" you wanted to know, irritation clear on your face. "I mean, that you could ask someone to be your fake boyfriend for the class reunion, so they can't judge you for being single." he explained, toying with his now empty bottle.

Huffing a laugh you shook your head.

"And who am I supposed to ask?" you returned. "Smitty?"

His face contorted like he bit on something sour, before he shook his head. "God, no." he spoke, looking at you like you were out of your mind. "Not even you can be that desperate."

Giving him a pointed look you crossed your arms over your chest, after setting your bottle down on the table.

He chuckled half-heartedly, his gaze wandering away for a second, before he looked back at you, sighing quietly. "What about me?"

Unfolding your arms you leaned a little closer, shock written on your face. "Are you serious?" you wanted to know, your heart hammering in your chest.

Never did you expect for him to volunteer.

Shrugging, he rubbed his chin. "Yeah, I mean, only if you want me to do it." he said, still looking at you.

A smile tugged at your lips, as warmth flooded you. He was willing to be your boyfriend for a day - even if it was fake.

"What about the part where you told me you'd never voluntarily go to a class reunion?" you asked, cocking a brow at him, as a grin stretched your lips.

"Hey, I can take that offer back as fast as I made it!" he warned. "So?"

"Yes!" you almost shouted, before composing yourself. "I mean, sure, if you really want to... that would be great."

He grinned slightly at your reaction, making you blush, before he stood. "Text me when and where and I'll come pick you up."

Nodding you smiled up at him, not believing the luck you had. "Thank you."

Nodding as well, he left.

Friday afternoon came quicker than you had expected.

As the time ticked closer to when Tim would be picking you up, you got nervous.

What if he changed his mind? You wouldn't blame him.

The dress you chose was tight, hugging your curves and went down to your knees. You weren't that insecure about your looks, but in this situation you couldn't help but wonder nervously, if he would like it.

When the doorbell rang you flinched. Your heart raced as you made your way to the front door, opening it to see Tim in a suit.

He wasn't happy about the dress code, but he had already offered his help, so he refused to back down now.

When he saw you his eyes widened almost unnoticeable, mouth slightly agape. Blushing you cleared your throat, greeting him.

"Hey." he greeted you back. "You look beautiful, Y/N." Swallowing, your blush intensified. "Thank you, you clean up pretty good as well, Mr. Bradford."

He smirked, offering you his arm.

Chuckling you took it, after grabbing your purse, before you followed him to his truck.

Taking a seat on the passenger side you exhaled shakily, nervous about the evening that lay before you. When Tim entered he started the engine, silently driving towards your destination.

The schools gym was beautifully decorated, matching the dress code. Entering the big hall you looked around, already spotting familiar faces.

"Whoever made this dress code was clearly planning the wrong event." Tim mumbled, making you laugh. "Yeah, it feels like a gala of some sorts."

Nodding he agreed with you, carefully guiding you through the already crowded hall. You weren't expecting that much people, when you received the invitation.

They must have invited everyone who was in the same grade as you, when you finished school.

A blonde woman walked towards you, a smile on her pink lips.

"Y/N!" she called, coming to a halt infront of you. "Is that really you?" Smiling back you nodded. "Hey Sara - yes it's really me."

As she eyed Tim for a moment, you felt how you became jealous. "This is my boyfriend: Tim." you introduced him, doing your best to keep that smile on your face.

They shook hands, as Tim greeted her. "Nice to meet you, Sara." She nodded, her smile getting wider. "Nice to meet you too, Tim."

Clearing your throat awkwardly, you faced Sara. "How have you been?" you wanted to know, trying to divert her attention.

"Oh, great actually, thank you!" she returned. "I married Brad - if you remember him - and currently work as a model." Smiling, you nodded.

Of course you remembered Brad. He was the quarterback of your high-school's team back then, the cliché douchebag every girl had a crush on - except for you.

He wasn't the smartest, something you found rather unattractive.

"What about you? What have you done the last couple years?" Sara inquired. "I work for the LAPD, I'm a cop." you explained, looking at Tim. "He's a cop as well." "Guilty." he added, smiling a little.

Sara's eyes widened. "Wow!" she made. "That is so cool!"

Before she could have said more she was interrupted by a tall brunette - Brad. His arm snaked around her waist, his toothpaste grin directed at you.

"Y/L/N!" he greeted you. "Long time no see!" Nodding you agreed, silently wishing for this conversation to be over as quick as possible.

It took an hour or two, in which you drank some champagne and ate some appetizers, whilst chatting with former class mates.

You were currently talking to Janette, a small brunette who was publishing her own books, as she was interrupted by a blonde woman, who stopped beside her.

She looked at you in disbelieve, her eyes briefly wandering to Tim, before she fixated you.

"Y/N Y/L/N." she said, tilting her head. "Stacy Howard." you returned, stiffening slightly. Tim must have noticed, as his hand found yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

You would thank him later for that.

"May you introduce us?" Stacy asked, pointing at Tim. Clearing your throat, you did as she asked. "Stacy, this is Tim Bradford - my boyfriend."

She huffed quietly, shaking Tim's hand as he offered it.

"Never thought you would actually land someone." she spoke, still looking at Tim. He bit his cheek, as you bit your lip, swallowing.

That had to come, right?

"She always was single, our little Y/N." Stacy started to explain, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Never found the right one, no one wanted to date her. I'm surprised she found someone this handsome."

Before you could have said anything, you felt Tim's hand stiffen in yours. Clearing his throat, he looked at Stacy, who was almost at eye level, given her heels.

"Actually, Y/N is one of the most wonderful women I know." he began to explain and you felt your cheeks growing hot. "She's smart, funny, a good cop and not to mention beautiful. I don't see why she shouldn't date someone 'handsome'. If anything, she deserves the best there is. There is no need for you to treat her like that."

Stacy was speechless, as she only nodded after gawking at him like a fish, before grabbing Janette and walking away.

"Wow." you said, stunned at his reaction. "You're taking the part as my fake boyfriend very seriously."

His brows knitted as he looked down at you, confused. "I mean that your acting is very good." you explained, smiling nervously. "Like you did that before."

Shaking his head he huffed. "You really think I was acting? I meant what I said." he told you, looking you in the eyes as his words stole your breath.

You didn't know what to say, only gawking at him like Stacy did only seconds before.

"You're smart, funny, you're a good cop. And you're beautiful. What she said wasn't right - and I won't let her treat you like that."

Tears stung your eyes, as you struggled to keep up the eye contact.

"Do you really mean that?" you wanted to know, as you were suddenly struck by insecurities. He could have only said it to make you feel better, after all.

Nodding, he sighed. "I did." he admitted.

A smile stretched your lips, as you looked away from him, suddenly becoming shy.

He found you beautiful.

"Hey, look-" he began, causing your gaze to snap back to his. "I know that I'm only here as your boyfriend for the night. But-" he cut himself off, searching for the right words.

"I really do mean what I said and I- I don't want to fake this- being your boyfriend and all." He sighed, rubbing his chin. "I love you, Y/N." he then suddenly admitted, causing your mouth to open in shock, eyes widening.

"I know that we're colleagues and I know that I could be misreading things- but I had to tell you. How could I fake being your boyfriend now and then go back to normal? I got a taste of it and now I don't want to give it back anymore."

Tears stung your eyes, as your heart nearly exploded.

He loved you?

He loved you!

"I love you too." you told him through the tears, before he could have said any more.

He huffed, as a smile split his lips.

"And it only took us a couple hours of fake dating to realize." he said, shaking his head.

Shaking your head you looked up at him. "I was actually hoping you'd offer your help." you admitted, biting your lip. "Yeah?" he asked, as he took a step closer, his hands finding your hips.

"Yeah." you murmured, blushing even more. "I kind of like you for quite some time now." He rose a brow at your words, smirking. "How long?" he wanted to know.

Huffing you sighed. "A few months, give or take."

Chuckling he got even closer, his breath fanning over your face as his lips ghosted over yours. "How many?"

You contemplated for a moment, before you responded. "About eight months?" He leaned back a little, tilting his head. "Wow, I should have done this earlier." he noticed, before he leaned back in.

"Well, then we have at least eight months of kissing to catch up." With that, he closed the distance, pressing his lips against yours.

Something inside you exploded, as your arms wrapped around his neck, hands brushing through his hair.

Pure luck and happiness mixed with love, as his lips moved against yours.

They matched like they were made for each other.

When you separated out of breath he leaned his forehead against yours.

"Let's make it official then." he suggested, smirking. Chuckling you pecked his lips, before responding. "Yeah, let's make it official."

[hotwaterandmilk]

I've been scanning the Yami no Purple Eye art book and it got me thinking about why I still feel so strongly about Shinohara Chie's horror-tinged works in particular. They don't have the sweeping settings, period detail or political intrigue of her historical titles, but they're still the works of hers I revisit most often.

I love the way Shinohara captures the physical and psychological horror of being a teenage girl. How truly overwhelming it can be to come into a new physical state and be hit by heightened strengths and fears. All while grappling with how to reconcile this new, hungry state with the "good girl" you were before the change. It's the way she combines this age-old puberty parable with an escalated 80s bent on 40s Hollywood female monstrosity that never fails to linger in my mind.

Let me unpack my rambling thoughts on this a bit and yeah they are pretty rambly I'm sorry I've got that neurological thing going on and it makes being articulate harder than it has ever been before. Forgive me!

Spoilers, bloody images and rambling re: Yami no Purple Eye, Ao no Fuuin, Umi no Yami Tsuki no Kage and Mizu ni Sumu Hana below.

The heroines of Shinohara's longer horror works are all seemingly average girls who are awakened to something horrific within them as teenagers (be it Rinko as panther, Ruka to psychic abilities, or Souko as an oni). Suddenly they're overcome not just by abilities but feelings, appetites, desires. They go from being good, average girls to young women battling forces within them stronger than anything known to science. There's always a boy there to support them through this, but they feel otherwise isolated or dangerous, unable to seek support from anyone else.

Yami no Purple Eye is frequently compared to the 1942 film Cat People and understandably so - in both you have a beautiful young woman descendended from "cat people" whose beastial side can take over when base urges overcome their normally sweet demeanor (though this film is absolutely not the first example of a 'cat person' in speculative fiction). The major difference, I would posit (aside from the more explicitly sexual nature of Cat People's change), is that Irena is an adult and while she also struggles with her identity and powers this battle is not new to her, she is hopeful for a way out but also somewhat resigned to the way things are.

Rinko from Yami no Purple Eye is new to being a panther, she is fearful of her secret getting out but also fearful of herself, of her purple eyes and her "unnatural" urges. While so much of Cat People is a relatively subtle look at female sexuality as a monstrosity in itself, Yami no Purple Eye shows a transformation that at puberty can be harnessed as a form of protection but also remains linked to the animal kingdom and not "enlightened" modern human society.

While Rinko's incredible strength saves her from all sorts of precarious situations, it feels new and out of her control. It isolates her from normal humans and it paints a target on her her back for Kaoruko, the primary antagonist of the series. I think what makes these pubescent power awakenings so alarming for all Shinohara's horror heroines is this lack of control. They didn't willingly trigger their transformation, they don't understand it properly, and they cannot control it. Ultimately each of them goes through a period of feeling incredible isolation from human society, which is common in a lot of speculative texts where the lead finds themselves estranged from society at large.

In Umi no Yami, Tsuki no Kage Ruka has the double-whammy of losing her normal life and her twin sister, Rumi, who has become deranged while coming into her own psychic powers. Although Ruka has the support of love-interest Katsuyuki, it is this love rivalry which put a wedge between her and her sister in the first place. At times, Ruka feels lost with all the destruction triggered by the sisters' transformation, held by Katsuyuki but with a 1000 yard stare in her eyes. Both Ruka and Rumi know deep down that only they can defeat one another, but how do you defeat your identical twin? How do you fight what is essentially your shadow self and your base instincts run riot?

It requires an understanding of the transformation, an acceptance of the change that has taken place, and a peace with what must come next - all of which takes Ruka the better part of 18 volumes to achieve. Mizu ni Sumu Hana takes a shorter route on a similar theme with the two Rikkas and the seeds, giving us another set of two near identical yet drastically different girls fighting for survival.

And being a teenage girl in these stories is very much focused on trying to survive. Another consistency across all these series that underscores the isolation of the heroines is the loss of those around them. Family members and friends are murdered or manipulated indiscriminately. Even if Shinohara's heroines try to seek support from someone other than their love interest, it is very quickly put to a stop by an opposing force. For a young woman in these worlds, struggling to understand her new body and changed mind, there is no option for support outside a male romantic interest.

That in itself is horrifying (though admittedly not as well-examined within text as I'd like, it certainly does feel like a comment) but it becomes a hell of a lot worse if your love interest's goals are at odds with your own. We see this with Souko in Ao no Fuuin who is revealed to be an oni that must survive by consuming humans. Her (false) memories are human and she has only recently learned of her oni nature so understandably she doesn't want to be a predator, yet she must eat people to survive. Akira, her love interest, rather than being a dutiful normal boy like Shin'ya in Yami no Purple Eye, is from an opposing family tasked with destroying her.

Eventually Akira's affection for Souko outweighs his duty to eliminate her and the two work together to try and figure out a way for her to become human and thus no longer require defeating. But initially in Ao no Fuuin, Souko is entirely alone with her growing hunger and power, unable to confide in anyone and unsupported by a romantic interest which proves just as isolating as it sounds. Like Rinko, Souko has gaps in her memory, a sensation that she's done something unnatural but a desperate need to be wrong about it, to be proven human despite all evidence to the contrary. As both heroines have entered their teenage years they have lost all they knew of stability, family and normalcy to have it be replaced by the uncanny, unnatural and unacceptable.

To have the body and mind become unreliable in your teenage years, to feel overwhelmed by forces you didn't know were within you, to feel like you're the only one experiencing such horrors... I mean it's all a big puberty metaphor isn't it? And yeah, to a degree these stories are simply turning the horror dial up to eleven on a cross-cultural feeling of coming into the power and bodily changes of adulthood before your mind can catch up with them (though in the case of Shinohara's stories every lead is shown to be attracted to the opposite sex and not explored as being anything other than cis, so there's definitely a lot left unexplored regarding pubscent queerness in her worlds).

All of Shinohara's long-form horror heroines seem to go through a period of grasping back for the safety and "normalness" of their childhood selves, of who they were before their body and mind betrayed them. Souko repeats to herself countless times that she is human not necessarily because she knows it to be true, but because she wants it to be true. She longs for who she believes she once was and we see similar grief for Rinko and Ruka, now awakened to their new lives as teenage monsters, as they reflect back on the comforting dullness of the recent past with a newfound appreciation and longing.

Ultimately, however, Souko was never a normal teenage girl. Rinko's power was dormant but she was always of panther blood. Rikka was always going to be used as a pawn between black and white dragons. Only Ruka, whose power was awakened after surviving a near-fatal bacterial infection, ever had an entirely normal human childhood and even then she must accept that what she and her sister had in their innocence can never be rediscovered. For some of these heroines there was never a "normal" to go back to and even for those that did have a glimpse at average life, it is ultimately gone from their grasp regardless. Time marches ever onward and for these young women there is no ability to wind back the clock, they must continue forward like all of us, even if their awakening to adulthood is more violent and bloody than most.

While everything I've touched on so far seems absolutely godawful, I think it's important to tie this all together with a bow of hope. Shinohara Chie's long-form horror and suspense stories put all their leads through the wringer, but they are never without hope. There is some degree of happiness out there for all her heroines, victims of circumstance and blood. However, it is not the happiness they had anticipated for themselves as adults and I think that is key to the whole exercise. Shinohara's heroines can at times be passive, clinging desperately to the idea that they can reverse what cannot be reversed. But in the end they must accept and embrace their new bodily powers. Just as we all must accept adulthood even when it doesn't adhere to our childhood hopes and dreams.

Rinko goes through absolute hell to try to get her happy ending and ultimately she doesn't get it, but her daughter Mai does manage to carve out a sense of happiness just by being with the man she loves. Souko can shed her obligation to the Kimon and be with Akira because her previous incarnation's daughter willingly takes on the role of heir for her. Ruka can live on but to do so must kill a willing Rumi and accept that what happened to them will ultimately be forgotten by the greater consciousness. Both Rikkas are revived and can choose their ultimate lifespan as the lost lotus flowers blossom once more.

None of these are your traditional happy ending, but what links them together is a sense of sacrifice. Part of the journey into adulthood, into surviving the horror of having a body as a teenage girl, is accepting the flawed state of adulthood. It comes at considerable sacrifice and it isn't necessarily what you dreamed it would be, but it is yours and you got where you are as an adult through the blood, sweat and tears of your younger self. There's a beauty to that and to Shinohara's flawed heroines and their often patchy narratives. Having a body can be horrific, it can be overwhelming, and it is inherently isolating... but it is essential to experiencing the beauty we do have in this world.

And idk I just think that's neat.

Shinohara isn't an artist to everyone's tastes and I do think there are strengths to her historical tales that perhaps aren't as present in her more horrific works, but her super powered horror stories manage to capture a type of pubescent alarm that a lot of other authors cannot master. While all these works do feel dated to a degree and present a limited scope of gender and sexuality, there's something I find timeless about revisiting the horror and joy of being a girl both cursed and blessed with the burden of a body.

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Edit 14/10/24: I would like to point out that my use of the term "horror" here relates to consistent thematic elements presented in these series rather than their specific genre labels, roots in other sub-genres or relation to other foundational texts outside of Shinohara's oeuvre.

Shinohara's speculative work is frequently labeled battle/suspense manga (with some shorter works earning a 'suspense horror' description at their most intense) and I am in no way disagreeing with these labels or trying to relabel the above titles as strictly horror. Nor does this post seek to break down the full context of these titles as they fit into the development of 80s/90s/00s shoujo.

This post exclusively reflects my personal thoughts on the bodily perils faced by Shinohara's super-powered heroines in the aforementioned texts through a horror lens (which in turn reflects my area of focus back when I studied film).

Everyone will have their own intrepretations of these texts and these characters and that's what makes hearing people's opinions so interesting - always open to hearing yours if you stumble onto this. ^^