#fic: (he)art thief
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tarvek-sturmvoraus · 3 months ago
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bats: tim are you going to tell us anything you did while searching for bruce tim: not unless everyone gets real cool about a bunch of stuff really quickly
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feather-of-argos · 1 year ago
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Chat noir: 'What's Felix like in your universe? Is he nice?
Claw noir: 'Whose Felix?'
Chat noir: 'Our cousin'
Claw noir: 'We have a cousin?!'
Commence Claw noir forgetting he supposedly has a doppelganger running around committing identity fraud until him and shadybug finally catch the infamous art thief who has been terrorizing the Louvre only to take off the mask Scooby-Doo style and gasp "Adrien Agreste?!"
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kraskrov · 6 months ago
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August Barbeaux from @sorrowsfallallaround and @haethel 's The Corsair and the Corsetteer series <3 i adore this man incredibly and had such a blast drawing him
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lorebird · 6 months ago
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My stupid gay ass partner got me hyperfixated on pjo and specifically Luke Castellan, and brother. I'm in DIRE straits. I've already reread the lightning thief entirely and am 1/3 thru sea of monsters. I just want to see cool art of him but the tag is Completely Overrun by x readers
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randum-famdoms · 11 months ago
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I’m currently working on a p5 fanfic (shhh don’t talk about my many other WIPs that I’m leaving for this) where Mishima is a phantom thief (kinda, it’s complicated but no spoilers). This is my design for his costume! I spent FAR too long and too much thought on how it would function and look. Ignore the terrible handwritten notes. My notes app is a mess. And don’t even get me STARTED on his persona and skill list. But it’s complete! I meant to post this like a month ago but I forgor.
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latetaektalk · 8 months ago
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Is heart thief discontinued?
ehh its not !! technically!! but honestly i havent really given that story much thought and im genuinely not sure if i will continue it. i do want to, but with how much minimal free time im having these days, i cant say for sure rip
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moonlightwonu · 14 days ago
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전원우 // Jeon Wonwoo Fic Recsᡣ𐭩
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나에게 어떤 슬픔도 없는 세상은  너니까~
Main Recs Masterlist
MINORS DNI!!!!!!!
Please like and reblog the fics to show the creators love and support~
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“Play Again” by @shuarush
Fem!reader || Friends to coworkers to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, mild angst || W.C: 37.6k
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・after ten years of not seeing your high school crush you find yourself partnered with him at the company you work for. Since you've been rejected before, you try your best to not let any feelings flourish, but Jeon Wonwoo's charms make that attempt especially hard for you. 
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✮
“Underlying Pretense” (Part of the Game Over series) by @lovelyhan
Fem!reader || Streamer au, enemies to lovers, smut, fuck buddies || W.C: 10.3k
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・being two of the most popular streamers across the board, your subscribers often speculate if your constant bickering with wonwoo has some underlying pretense. little did they know, the two of you have everything on display on a single, unsuspecting twitter account. 
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“Favorite Poison” (Part of the Game Over series) by @/lovelyhan
Fem!reader || Streamer au, enemies to lovers, smut, angst, fuck buddies || W.C: 15.5k
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・no strings attached sex is easy. catching feelings for a person you supposedly hate is hard. it's in times like this when wonwoo wishes he can set the dial to his life on easy mode forever, but everyone knows he's nothing if not stubbornly competitive.  
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“Endpoint” by @highvern
Fem!reader || Uni TA au, FWB to idiots to lovers, fluff, smut, angst || W.C: ~19.5k
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・Senior year of college is meant to be full of celebration and smooth sailing. Years of work culminating in the final semesters that will send you off into the real world where clubs, sports, and weekends packed with hungover volunteering to pad your resume no longer mattered. It’d be a piece of cake if it wasn’t for your fuck buddy turned coworker having the same plan. But only one of you can get the department’s most coveted recommendation that all but guarantees your acceptance. Tension rises and the nearly four year thing you’ve had with Wonwoo approaches its endpoint.
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“Heart of the Sea” by @/highvern
Fem!reader || Pirate au, Royalty au, Angst, Romance, Adventure || W.C: 22k
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“34.6037° S, 58.3816° W” by @the-boy-meets-evil
Fem!reader || Strangers to lovers, enemies to lovers, smut, fluff, angst || W.C: ~22.8k
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・your latest assignment has you jetting off to argentina hoping to finally catch the infamous art thief that's escaped your agency one too many times already. you know what's at stake if you lose your focus. enter the beautiful stranger that has you questioning everything you know
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✮
“HER” by @chocosvt
[Series] || fem!reader || Uni au, slowburn, strong angst, drama, romance, smut || Total W.C: 140k || Parts: 6 || Status: Completed
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ wonwoo, a heartbroken and burnt out writer nearing the end of his math degree, wants nothing to do with the seemingly perfect, intimidating girl who has everyone under her thumb. you. unfortunately, his literary talent has got him shoved him between a rock and a hard place when you want to write a book and require his expertise. you two are the furthest from compatible. wonwoo can’t see this going well. at all.
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“Payment Due” by @solarwonux
Fem!reader || Uni au, sexworker au, fluff, angst, smut || W.C: 56.1k
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・HYBE U one of the top highly prestigious universities in the country. A shit hole, a total money making scam that liked to sucked the life out of its students. Not being able to meet the funds to pay for your tuition your best friend lets you in a little secret. A way he’s been keeping afloat for years now, easy money. The problem is you want in. 
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“Cats and Coffee for Two” by @multi-kpop-fanfics
Fem!reader || Coworkers to lovers, fluff, comedy, smut || W.C: 12.2k
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・Job hunting is a tough sport and Wonwoo has experienced it to its core. One fine autumn day comes where he's finally free from the shackles of unemployment, but he will soon find himself in the shackles of coffee, tea and cat hairs, But most importantly, he will have to share these shackles with you.
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✮
“Flower” by @wonwoonlight
Fem!reader || Exes to coworkers au, angst, slice of life, fluff || W.C: ~13k
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“Wanna be yours” by @viastro
Gn!reader || Uni au, childhood friends to strangers to loversish, angst, fluff, humor || W.C: ~9k
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・you thought that growing up as best friends meant you’d stick together for as long as you could. you never thought of that exact chance for you and wonwoo until entering university, where you were nothing but his driver when he was out partying for too long. so why do you still pick up the phone when he calls you if he’s the one who left first?
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“Twisted Fate” by @smileysuh
Afab!reader || Vampire au, soulmate au, enemies to lovers, smut || W.C: 14.3k
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・“He deserved it,” Wonwoo assures you, reaching out to grab you by the back of the neck, pulling you closer. He’s covered in blood, and he looks like a sexy, wild monster. But he’s your monster, and you can’t help but react, leaning in- “Jesus Christ,” you hear Jeonghan breathe, turning to give you and Wonwoo privacy while he presses his lips against yours hungrily. At first, you can try to ignore the wet liquid on your fingertips as you grab at his strong shoulders, but you can’t ignore the taste on his tongue. Your body goes rigid and Wonwoo pulls back with a sigh, resting his forehead against yours. It’s an oddly peaceful moment amongst the chaos.
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✮
“My Way to You” by @/wonwoonlight
[Series] || fem!reader || heir/heiress au, best friends to lovers, fluff, drama, angst || Total W.C: ~47k || Parts: 13(+1 epilogue) || Status: Completed
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・You don’t remember a time when you don’t have Wonwoo by your side. But when things happen and you’re left to deal with your feelings, you can’t help but wonder if what you have with him can be framed under the name of friendship after all. or, alternatively, Wonwoo’s been in love with you for as long as he can remember and he doesn’t know if he should be thankful or not that you’ve never suspected him for it.
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✮
“By the Moon” by @/wonwoonlight
Werewolf au, fantasy au, angst, fluff, hurt comfort, action, suggestive || W.C: ~18k
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“All My Love” by @pepperonidk
[Series] || Fem!reader || High School au, fluff || Parts: 10 || Status: Completed
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・He's cool, smart, attractive... and completely out of your league. But that won't stop you from falling head over heels for him. (alt. jeon wonwoo is mr. darcy incarnated… a fumbling nerd turned popular kid)
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Please let me know if the links have any problems~
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the-boy-meets-evil · 5 months ago
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34.6037° S, 58.3816° W | jww
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(your latest assignment has you jetting off to argentina hoping to finally catch the infamous art thief that's escaped your agency one too many times already. you know what's at stake if you lose your focus. enter the beautiful stranger that has you questioning everything you know.)
pairing: jeon wonwoo x f.reader genre: strangers to lovers, (kinda, v light) enemies to lovers | smut, fluff, angst rating: explicit, minors DNI word count: ~22.8k (idk what happened) warnings: art thief!wonwoo, secret agent!reader, brief mentions of death & bloody past (again, reader is a secret agent), mentions of past violence, mentions of weapons, food, drinking, VERY ambiguous ending smut warnings: multiple smut scenes, multiple positions, unprotected sex (don't do this), slightly rough sex, mild dom!wonwoo?, fingering, oral sex, choking, spanking, multiple orgasms, squirting, light marking, semi-public sex, food play (whipped cream, chocolate), i think that's it
a/n: this is for @svthub's world tour collab (check out the other fics here). i had so much fun writing this even if it got away from me a bit. thanks to @effortandmore for lending me her art brain. thanks to @highvern for constantly listening to me and @multi-kpop-fanfics for fit inspo. and as always, thank you to my bby @wongyuseokie for the banner & divider.
edited to add: i am considering an epilogue if that’s something anyone is interested in
tag list: @wonustars, @minisugakoobies, @crepecakeu, @tinyelfperson, @dokyeomkyeom, @amoryeonjun, @miriamxsworld, @hongrizoon, @gyuminusone, @aaniag, @naajaeminsgf, @straykidswhoo789, @kimseokgen, @beomesbabe, @haolistic, @vanishingboots, @babybae-shisui, @pyeonghongrie-main, @nuttywastelandmentality, @writingbarnes, @tomodachiii, @gyuhao365, @jjin-kun, @sdoulc, @wonwootakemyheart, @divinityyyy, @nightshadeinmoonlight, @imma-queencard, @jelly-n
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“We’ll be landing in about 45 minutes, according to the pilot,” a voice says, interrupting your laser-like focus.
You look up from your tablet and blink at him for a second. It takes you a moment or two to register he’s even standing there. Another moment to register what he actually said to you a second ago. In the meantime, you switch the program open on your tablet.
“Oh, thanks,” you say in response. 
He sits down in the seat opposite you and fixes you with a smile. “Must be a good book, you’ve barely looked up for the entire flight.” 
“Guilty,” you say with a practiced smile. 
Chan, you think that’s his name, seems nice enough. A little overeager and too ready to agree to something when his bosses tell him what to do. There’s that real thirst to prove himself. But, at least from what you hear, he’s got a bright future. He’s done well with what he’s been given so far, which are increasingly difficult assignments. You can see why. He’s easy on the eyes and he’s got that soft smile down. The kind of unassuming smile that makes people want to trust him. If he can keep it up, he’ll go far. 
“Thanks again for letting me catch a ride,” you say to fill some of the space between you. 
Chan only shrugs. “Any friend of Mr. Choi’s is always welcome. Plus, nobody really says no when the boss says something.”
A lesser person would have probably laughed at that. Hearing him referred to as Mr. Choi and the boss is a little comical to you. Not that it isn’t true because he is definitely Chan’s boss. It’s just, well, it’s a little more complicated than that. 
“Honestly I don’t really even understand what Cheol does,” you lie and turn on a little bit of the charm. It’s always good to practice on people that are trained to be charming themselves. 
“Do you call him that?” Chan wonders.
“Call him what? Cheol?” you ask and Chan nods, eyes a little wide. It catches him just off guard enough. “Yeah, but I’ve known him for years. What do you call him?”
“Sir, usually,” Chan answers too quickly. You can’t fully fight the smile that answer brings to your lips. “Glad to see I entertained you.” 
“He’s not nearly as bad as I’m sure he seems at work,” you say like you’re sharing a secret.
The truth is that you’ve been hearing about this new agent that Seungcheol is personally training for over a year now. So, you know that eventually, you’re going to all be laughing at this conversation in hindsight and he’ll also be calling his boss Cheol. For now, though, things are a little bit different. 
“He mentioned that you were heading down to do some research?” he asks and you nod. 
This part has always been a little tedious to you, the part where you come up with a cover story that you even have to feed to other people within the same organization. It’s been this way for your entire career. You were recruited at 18 years old and went through special training along with obtaining a degree. The Agency had two divisions, but you only ever learned about the second one if you were recruited to work there. It was that second division you joined right away. 
Training had been grueling. If it wasn’t some kind of physical endurance training, it was sitting in a windowless room studying history or a foreign language. Or it was combat training with whatever weapon was on deck that day. Or working to blend into any situation. You quickly learned that did not mean not being memorable. At least not in every situation. Sometimes that meant looking at ease in your surroundings even if eyes were on you. Thankfully, the charm seemed to come naturally to you and that was one less thing you had to worry about learning. 
The Agency officially works in maintaining international relationships between countries. That can mean a number of different things. Sometimes it involves an agent or team heading out to a location as official representatives. They can help with negotiation, security concerns, smoothing out issues, anything really. Unofficially, it often involves going undercover on a mission. That can involve either division, depending on the sensitivity of the mission. If it’s simpler, then someone like Chan gets sent out to work his way into a situation and influence the outcome so that everything stays calm. In fact, he’s here to charm a wealthy heiress that’s getting a little too close to revealing confidential information on government contracts. 
You, on the other hand, are officially here to study Argentinian culture and immerse yourself in local traditions. Chan doesn’t know that you work for The Agency as well. He doesn’t know that Seungcheol is like a boss to you. It’s not his preference. Seungcheol misses the days when he was by your side in the field instead of stuck in the office behind a desk. Unfortunately, several years ago he suffered a severe injury that just made field work impossible for him. It took a lot of convincing, most of which fell on your shoulders as the person closest to him, to get him to transition to his current role. Where you had never set foot in the main offices, he had been there periodically. He was known to people there. And he was so insanely smart that you pointed out he would be bored trying to assimilate into regular life. Why not get to do one of his other favorite things and tell younger agents (or even older ones) what to do? That had been the biggest selling point because he was good at being in charge. It had been a bit of a rocky transition at first, but now it’s smooth sailing. 
Unofficially, you’re here tracking one of the most infamous art thieves in the world. This is the kind of thing that has to be handled with the utmost secrecy. Other agencies and your own have tried to track him down and apprehend him only to have him slip into the wind. If you had to hazard a guess, you’d assume that there had been leaks during the previous attempts. You’ve also considered that he’s just really good at making a mark and blending into his surroundings. This is one of the most secretive missions you’ve ever been sent on despite seeming relatively innocuous. How much harm can an art thief really cause, right? Except, The Agency is largely funded by private investors and several of those investors have been victims and had art stolen. Despite that, the only people that know you’re making this attempt now are Seungcheol and the head of covert operations. His counterpart doesn’t know that you’re handling it, or even who you are. Instead, the main division of The Agency has a team headed to Amsterdam thinking that they’re after the notorious thief. 
Although it seems like it should be straight forward, this thief has been working in the shadows for years without anyone really knowing what he looks like beyond him being a man. The reports about what he actually looks like vary so greatly that nobody really knows what to believe. You and Seungcheol have spent months trying to put together a profile that seems most realistic and you feel as comfortable as you can. His appearance seems a little elusive, but the information that he’s going to be in Buenos Aires is the best lead you’ve gotten. It comes from someone that you worked with on a previous mission. You had been studying your profiles when Chan came over and quickly exited to a different application. 
“I am. I’m working on understanding the history of Argentinian culture through the eyes of Buenos Aires for a project,” you say with all the affection of someone who was actually going to be doing that. “I’m going to spend most of my time just out talking to people, learning their stories, that kind of thing.”
“Do you, uh, speak Spanish?” Chan wonders with clear apprehension. 
“I do,” you say with a light laugh. “Be a bit awkward if I didn’t, right?” 
“That’s impressive,” he says. 
“I speak several languages,” you say nonchalantly and then make a show of catching his eye. “I studied language and culture in university.” 
“You’re not what I’d imagine for one of my boss’s friends,” Chan admits. “Especially one close enough to get added to the manifest.” 
You shrug. “I’ve known him for a long time.” 
“He doesn’t strike me as someone with a lot of time for friendships or someone that you can ever really know,” Chan presses and you laugh.
“Married to the job, right?” you agree. “I’m a low maintenance friend. I spend a lot of time out of town for research, immersed in local culture. We’ve probably got more in common that you’d think.” 
“That makes a lot of sense,” he concedes, seeming to easily buy your cover. He stands up. “I’ll let you get back to your reading.”
The rest of the flight goes smoothly and you say your goodbyes to Chan and the others from the flight once you get off the plane. As is the plan, you take your suitcases to a local taxi and head to your hotel, checking in under one of the many fake names you used when on a mission. The room is nice, too, even if it’s nothing all that extravagant. It’s just another part of the cover. 
Since it’s been a long day, you figure that you might as well just order room service and settle in for the night. It’ll give you the chance to start getting your body used to the local timezone. Not that your body really has a home timezone anymore with how you’re constantly on the move. But, you still don’t mind the idea of resting for the night. 
You’re incredibly thankful to be in Buenos Aires in July since it’s the coolest month. It makes it easier for you to just walk everywhere. Before leaving your room for your first full day in your new city, you double check your messenger bag to make sure everything is in there: camera, multiple lenses,  journal, tablet and keyboard, sunglasses, wallet, and all your little bits to make it look like a bag you wear all the time. You smile at the receptionist on your way out, letting her know that you’re going off to explore what the city has to offer. She seems happy to see that you look better rested than after your long travel day. Even if heading out is mostly a cover for your mission, it’s also a little true. This city has been on your bucket list to visit for years and you’re not going to waste what might be your only opportunity to explore. It might even make it more believable as you’re trying to blend into the crowds around you.
After spending several hours wandering around and taking in everything you could, you find yourself at a local cafe in the early afternoon to have a cup of coffee and a light lunch. The whole morning flew by in a rush of colors and culture. It’s so easy to be interested in everything that’s before you because it’s just so vibrant. So full of life. Such a juxtaposition of history, tradition, and new influences. It’s one of the first times you’ve been somewhere and had to remind yourself that you are actually on a mission. You’re not just there to sightsee and fall in love. 
There are a lot of tourists in the cafe, which doesn’t really surprise you. Most places in Buenos Aires stay open during the afternoon for tourism, but you know that cafes in smaller towns would close. You figure that most locals probably avoid shops during this time of day as well. It feels lucky when you spot an open table in the corner until another patron moves and you see there’s actually someone sitting in one of the seats. It’s an uncharacteristically awkward moment for you, especially given how confident you are with everything else, that he catches you mid-decision. His eyes meet yours before looking at the coffee in one hand and the plate in the other. When he looks back down at the table, it clicks into place before you can turn around. 
“You, uh, can sit…” he starts with deliberate slowness that shouldn’t be throwing you off even more. 
You shake your head to clear it and smile. “It’s fine, I don’t just speak Spanish.” 
“Oh,” he says with a breath of relief. “Well, you can sit here.” 
“I don’t want to intrude,” you say and go to turn around.
“It’s busy. Are you going to just eat standing up?” he asks with a challenging raise of his eyebrow. 
“Well,” you start.
“I probably won’t be here much longer anyway,” he offers.
Reluctantly, you move to sit down with him. It’s kind of insane the way he’s thrown you off your game by just existing. Usually, you’re the one that’s disarming strangers with your charm, not the other way around. As soon as you sit down, he looks back at the book he has open in front of him. It gives you a chance to figure out if he’s actually that attractive that it’s thrown you off or if you’re still just jet-lagged. 
His glasses slide down a nearly too perfect nose and he pushes them up without missing a beat. His black hair is a little messy and a little long, falling carelessly around his face as he gets lost in whatever book he has open in front of him. His clothes make him look a little too fancy to be sitting in a cafe overrun with tourists like this. Somehow, he makes a cardigan over a dress shirt with nice, pressed slacks work without looking like he’s trying too hard. Everything about him just exudes calm, confident energy. Like the kind of person you would assume comes from old money. Unassuming, yet standing out without even meaning to. It reminds you of some of the landmarks you saw that morning, like rich history perfectly combined with modern needs. 
Thankfully, at least some of your training kicks back in and you manage to keep it from being too obvious that you’re one step away from fully checking him out. Your new tablemate seems content to sit in silence, though, so you pick at your food while going through some of the pictures on your camera. Today is about getting the lay of the land as much as anything else. It’s not like you can just find your infamous art thief without knowing where to look. 
“I’m sure you got some great shots,” he says, drawing your attention again. When you look up, his eyes are on your camera. 
“Oh, yeah, it’s so hard to really capture the feeling of something through a camera, but I definitely try,” you say.
“I saw you at The Obelisk and I thought, I’ve never seen someone so focused in my entire life,” he says, except now he’s looking at you.
“There must have been thousands of people there. How did you pick me out?” you ask with a laugh. 
The mystery man shrugs. “Like I said, you were focused. And not in the way a lot of influencers who travel for the perfect picture are. I knew that it was more than that for you.” 
“It is,” you agree. “I’m studying the history and the culture down here. Just got in last night.” 
“Can I see the picture you landed on?” he ventures. 
You hesitate. Your pictures are good, sure, but you’re not actually doing anything that serious when you’re down here. Since it’s supposed to be part of your cover, you should feel confident. After a moment, you hand your camera over to him with your favorite picture in the display window. 
“Be kind. My focus is language and history first, not photography,” you toss out. Another layer to the cover. It’s convenient, though. Not that you expected to be talking to someone like him about photography.
“This is amazing,” he says and seems earnest. “Can I look through the rest?”
Again, you pretend to consider. This time it’s for the sake of the persona you’re committing to. It’s not like there’s anything on there from before today since it’s a fresh SD card. 
“I promise to be kind,” he presses and you roll your eyes.
“Fine,” you say and he smiles. 
It’s hard not to notice the amount of care he uses while handling your camera. Maybe he knows something about photography and realizes it’s an expensive model. Or maybe he’s just gentle with something that clearly means a lot to someone else. It’s also easier to feel like you can appreciate things about him when his attention is somewhere else. Like he won’t notice the way your eyes map his features, noting the furrow in his brows or how smooth his skin is. Or the way his hair seems absolutely perfect without any product in it. None of it seems fair that he should just get to walk around looking like that.
“I’m surprised not to find a picture of myself on here,” he starts and it pulls you from your thoughts. There’s a moment where you wonder if he’s secretly self-centered, until you meet his eyes and see the glint there. “You know, with how you’ve been studying me.” 
“I appreciate beauty wherever I see it,” you answer, trying to channel more boldness than you feel. 
“Are you saying I’m beautiful?” he questions, entirely too at-ease. 
“I don’t think you need confirmation on that,” you scoff and look out the window. “Besides, it wasn’t me that noticed you earlier.” 
“A shame for me,” he muses. “I appreciate beautiful things as well.”
He hands your camera back with his eyes locked on you. It makes your skin feel a little flushed and you hate it. Hate that you’re always able to keep your cool in any situation and still so completely disarmed by this man. Hate that it’s him that breaks the moment, too, when he looks down at the expensive watch on his wrist with a sigh.
“Late for something?” you venture. 
“Something like that,” he agrees and puts his book away in a bag you hadn’t noticed. “I’m glad you sat down though.” 
“Me too,” you admit a little too quickly as he’s standing up.
“Enjoy your afternoon, beautiful stranger,” he says and you twist around.
“Wait, I didn’t get your name,” you call and he stops by the door. The smile he throws your way sends a tingle down your spine.
“I hope we’ll run into each other again, then,” he says.
And just like that, he’s gone. Slips into the crowd like he wasn’t even there in the first place. It makes you wonder, just for a second, if the entire exchange actually happened. Until you look back at the table and see the cup of coffee he had been drinking. Beside it, you notice a small piece of paper advertising a new installation at one of the local art museums. Not entirely out of the question, you think, for someone visiting this city and also interested in seeing your camera.
It’s then that you remind yourself why you’re actually here. You shake your head to clear it of any thoughts of the stranger, knowing you can’t make any effort to run into him again. The mission is the only thing that matters. Getting close to someone that could distract you in that way is not part of the plan. So, you can appreciate the banter and get back on track.
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The next few days pass relatively uneventfully. You continue to explore the city while always keeping your eyes and ears open for any indication of the art thief. It’s a little frustrating to not have much to go on, but you’re also one of the most patient agents and you know it’ll pay off eventually. Seungcheol keeps in regular contact, sending along each new nugget of information he’s able to find. Even if they’re seemingly insignificant, you file them all away, appreciating how hard you know he’s working given how few people know about the mission. He has to pull the relevant pieces to send to you without tipping off the team in Amsterdam. 
You’re also splitting your days. Making sure to get out to experience the local culture to maintain your cover, while spending just as much time locked away in your room so that you can do your own research. Everything points to him already being in the city as well. It also seems like this next heist might be two-fold for him. It appears that he’s got a client that wants a specific piece of art and that he’s also going to steal some pieces for himself to sell at later dates. It’s a bit unusual, from what you’ve been able to tell. He usually likes to keep each job simple to reduce the likelihood of getting caught. Then again, he’s been active for years and doing just fine. 
Today you decide to go to check out a museum that you’ve been putting off. It’s silly, but you didn’t want to show up there the day after that cafe since it seemed a little convenient to leave behind. You have to familiarize yourself with all the museums in the city, though, and it seems like this one could be your thief’s target. It has just the right amount of traffic. Just the right combination of popular pieces with lesser known artists. 
Once you’re there, you immediately move away from the popular sections. That’s not the kind of art you’re after because it’s not the kind of art the thief ever steals. It’s too recognizable. Too hard to move. Just too risky. Once you’re in a quieter part of the museum, you fight off any feelings of being a fraud. Art has never really been your strong suit. If it weren’t for this mission being so sensitive, you definitely would not be the first agent anyone would choose. But, it is sensitive and so you have to rely on your training to carry you through any conversations that might pop up. You have to rely on the hours spent pouring over lectures about the different styles and influences, the different periods, different techniques. Hopefully your talent at rote memorization will serve you well. 
“It’s a shame they keep one of the best artists tucked away in a corner like this,” a voice says from your side, pulling you from your thoughts. 
You answer without even thinking much about the voice or even turning to see the person who appeared next to you nearly soundlessly. “Makes it easier to appreciate in peace, though.” 
“You like surrealism, then?” he asks and it’s only then that you notice something familiar about the voice or the manner of speaking. Or the fact that he’s not speaking to you in Spanish. 
Before you even turn to your side, you know who you’re going to find. He’s looking just as put together and at-ease as he did several days ago in the cafe. His hands rest in his pockets, but his eyes on you are sharp. There’s something a little hard to read about him, you think. 
The smile you give him is practiced, designed to seem genuine. “I like Leonor Fini.” 
“You’ve got good taste,” he says and turns back to the piece. 
“I do like surrealism,” you carry on, turning back to the piece yourself as well, “but, with her work, I really appreciate the way she used female subjects through a female lens. Too many artists…”
You trail off, pretending you’re unsure if you should continue. He falls into the setup easily. “Men could only show female subjects through their own eyes, but women look different through the eyes of other women.” 
“Exactly,” you say and smile at him before turning back to the painting again. “There’s something so captivating about the work she did.” 
“I agree. That’s why this is my favorite piece here and in my favorite section of works,” he says confidently. 
“You already have a favorite?” you joke.
“Well, I’ve been here every day for the past several days,” he shares.
This makes you turn to him fully. “Because you love this section and this work so much?” 
This mysterious man actually looks down like he’s embarrassed to admit whatever he’s about to tell you. Like he’s gotten shy for a moment. “I do, but I was actually hoping to run into you.” 
That catches you a bit off guard and it takes your brain a minute to remember, once again, you’re here on a mission. “It would have been easier to run into me if you just asked for my number.” 
“Kind of ruins this whole mysterious thing I have going on, though,” he shrugs. 
You roll your eyes and extend your hand, giving him your fake name for the mission. His eyes sparkle for a second before he takes your hand. 
“Wonwoo,” he answers.
“Nice to finally get your name,” you tease.
“I figured you’d come check out the museum when I left the card there at the cafe,” Wonwoo says. 
“I knew that was on purpose,” you mumble.
“Yet you didn’t come until today,” he observes.
“I wasn’t trying to make it easy on you,” you throw out quickly.
“Okay, time to switch tactics, then,” he says. “Can I take you to dinner tonight?” 
“I’m not sure, can you?” you ask.
“Please let me take you to dinner,” he says.
It’s a bad idea and you know it. Everything about him screams distraction. This isn’t what you’re in Buenos Aires to do. Yet, there’s something about him that has you curious. There’s also the fact that this museum seems to be the most likely target for the art thief and this man admitted he’s been here every day. A small part of your brain is sending up alarm signals to keep an eye on him. He doesn’t seem like a secret art thief, but hasn’t your training taught you how to hide in plain sight? It’s entirely possible he’s doing the same.
Your brain goes into overdrive as it often does on missions. There are a million little details in the pages of your profile on the art thief. They come flooding back to you. The profile so thoughtfully pieced together by The Agency says he’s probably unassuming. The kind of man that fits into any situation in the same way as you do, like he’s not trying to fit in and it means he doesn’t stand out as not belonging. The profile suggests that he’s confident. That he would appear calm. Most importantly, he’s the kind of person that would absolutely look at home in the midst of art. So, whether it’s a good idea or not, you know you’re going to say yes. He must see the answer in your eyes before you voice it because he smirks. 
“What time?” 
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Wonwoo offers to pick you up at your hotel, but you insist that you’ll meet him at the restaurant. It’s safer that way, after all, being a woman traveling alone. At least that’s what you tell him. Not that anything about Wonwoo seems that threatening and you’re better equipped to handle yourself than most. You just don’t need him anywhere near your room even with everything put away. After going back to get ready, you made time to pour over the information you have. The more you consider it, the more it seems plausible that he could be exactly who you’re looking for. There’s only one issue: he asked you out. Everything you have suggests that he made agents in the past and slipped into the wind. You’re not cocky enough to think you’re too good to fall victim to the same fate. You keep your update to Seungcheol vague in case the lead doesn’t pan out. 
Surprisingly, Wonwoo picks a nice place off the beaten path for dinner. It’s not overrun with tourists and it’s not too expensive. Like him, it’s unassuming but quietly impressive. You try not to let your heart skip a beat when you see him in a simple white dress shirt and black dress pants. He stands to pull your seat out for you and then settles back into his seat across from you. This is for the sake of the mission. Either he’s the person you’re looking for or you’ll have enjoyed a free and tasty meal. Nothing more to it. 
His Spanish, it turns out, isn’t that great and so you help him through ordering since it’s definitely a place more for the locals. Or maybe it’s just an excuse to get your help. You’re not really sure you mind either way. He makes suggestions about which wines he prefers, but ultimately lets you pick, insisting that he will take care of whatever you land on. Once you get through ordering and all the small talk, it gives you a chance to really get to know him.
“Have you been here before?” you ask.
“This restaurant or this city?” he asks.
“Either,” you shrug.
“No to both,” he answers. “Clearly, my Spanish is a bit rusty. I’m so lucky that I found someone who’s so fluent.” 
“I’m not sure I believe you can’t speak the language,” you muse.
“I can speak enough Spanish to get by, but it’s not that good,” he assures you. 
“Interesting place to visit, then,” you observe.
“I’d miss out on a lot of beauty if I only went where I spoke the language fluently,” he retorts and you smile genuinely at that. He’s right. 
“Like the art in the museum?” you suggest.
“Or a charming stranger,” he counters. You’re impressed. “I do like the art as well, though.” 
“What other beautiful places have you visited?” you ask.
“Oh, I hardly think it’s that interesting,” he dismisses.
“Humor me,” you say. 
There’s a moment where he’s careful in listing off places. Like he’s weighing something that you can’t really place. He ends up listing some places that catch your attention. Each of them has some wonderful art museums and it piques your curiosity. You try to look just politely interested, commenting on how he’s lucky to be able to travel as extensively as he seems to. He plays it off with a vague comment about being fortunate with help from his family. It’s the kind of thing that you know passes on a first date. It’s not appropriate to mention money on a first date. So, that would be fine, if it didn’t also make you curious about who this man really was. After all, your art thief being well connected through family would definitely make sense.
Throughout the rest of the dinner, you try to enjoy it. Not that it’s hard to do. Wonwoo is actually a lot of fun to be around. The conversation flows easily and you’re able to connect on a lot of shared interests. At least, interests that you pretend to have for the sake of this mission. But, it feels like he might also be pretending on some of his interests. He’s just a little too calm and put together. A little too quick with his answers. A little too rehearsed with his comments. Maybe you wouldn’t think twice if you weren’t doing the same. 
By the time you finish the main course, you’re pretty sure that you managed to stumble into a date with the exact person that you’re here looking for based on his stories. It may have been a guess before. It feels nearly for sure  now. He mentions how you have to visit Japan when the cherry blossoms are blooming, which sounds stunning. He mentions Oktoberfest in Munich and how he barely remembers anything from that trip. Then there's the ice festival in China, Nordlysfestivalen in Norway, and a few other locations that sound beautiful. They also have one thing in common. Each place is also on your list for stolen art around the time of the events. 
Once you finish dessert, you’re making a decision that you know you should really clear with someone else before making. Sure, you’re pretty sure that Wonwoo is the art thief. And yes, it’s true that keeping an eye on him is in your best interest. One way to do that is to continue with the date. Yet, you’re not stopping to check in with Seungcheol. You’re not analyzing the pros and cons of doing this. After giving Seungcheol a vague update about a lead and promising you’ll have more information later on, he should be the first person you call. He’s not swept up in the atmosphere of a foreign city with a gorgeous stranger. No, you don’t do any of that. You’re just agreeing to go back to his room with him without a second thought. He’s painfully hot and you’re incredibly attracted to him, which is wildly unprofessional. But, you’re not sure you care. At least for the night. You can figure it all out later.
Wonwoo is quietly confident without being cocky. His gaze is so penetrating that it feels like he’s undressing you without it being slimy. He can hold a conversation about seemingly anything, but he’s also just as interested in what you have to say. In fact, you have his attention the whole night, regardless of anything else going on. It’s a little overwhelming to have someone so focused on you. But, when it feels a little overwhelming, he makes a perfectly timed, slightly sarcastic joke that makes you laugh harder than you should. The smile you wear all throughout the date is genuine. You’re actually enjoying yourself so much that you’re not sure you want it to end. Life has never felt so simultaneously complicated and easy.
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Wonwoo’s lips are hot on yours as he cages you against the door of his hotel room. That intensity you saw all dinner reappears and you feel like you might burn under his touch. He’s so in control. You’re still not entirely sure how you wound up here, but you’re not really trying to think too hard about it. The fact that he’s almost definitely the art thief becomes an issue for future-you the second he kisses you like it’s your last day on Earth. It’s not like he knows you’re tracking his movements and it isn’t exactly a bad thing to keep a closer eye on him. Nor is it the first time you’ve done something like this. It is the first time you’ve done it without thought, though, and genuinely been interested in the man you let seduce you.
He has his body pressed against yours with his arms on either side of you so there really is nowhere to go. It’s kind of hot and you’re not even pretending to be turned on. A definite bonus. Your hands quickly undo his belt so that you can pull the edges of his shirt out. The moment your hands make contact with his skin, he pulls away and hisses. They’re likely cold, not that you care. It gives you the chance to catch his lower lip between your teeth. You watch his eyes darken with lust as you run your hands up his back, scratching down lightly. 
“Just who do you think is in control here, baby?” His voice is so low in your ear that it makes you swallow hard. Everything about the endearment sounds sarcastic and it shouldn’t work, but you’re only human. Then he nips at your earlobe and you actually moan. 
“What are you going to do about it?” you challenge. It feels like a lot of heat between you. If your head were clearer, you might consider that it feels like two people who know they shouldn’t be fucking. Almost like he’s punishing you a little, which he might want to, given why you’re here.
“That’s a dangerous question,” he warns you. 
“Afraid I can’t handle it?” you ask and watch the way it nearly breaks his composure. You press forward into him, pulling him down so his ear is by your mouth now. Barely raise your voice above a whisper. “I’m not that fragile. I can handle a little pain.” 
That seems to set him off. You’re worried for a second when he pulls away, but that disappears as you watch his nimble fingers rapidly undoing the buttons on his shirt. He casts it aside and looks back at you. 
“I want you stripped naked and on the bed,” he commands. 
You’re not typically in the habit of taking commands but something about him makes you want to listen. Even if you want to challenge him a little. He turns his back and you do strip down. Mostly. You climb onto the bed wearing only your panties, legs spread open and waiting for him. When he turns around, you miss the flare of his nostrils at your defiance looking at his muscles. For someone so unassuming, he was certainly in good shape. 
“Is this your idea of naked?” he questions.
It’s funny, since he’s still got his boxer briefs on, though they leave little to the imagination. You can already see that he’s getting hard from the lead up. 
“I thought I’d leave that honor for you,” you say, injecting as much innocence as you can muster into every word.
Wonwoo looks at you for another long second before climbing onto the bed and getting between your legs. He pushes them further open and you bite down on your lip. 
“You don’t get to muffle those moans from me, sweetheart,” he teases, running a hand up the inside of your thigh.
“Or what?” you challenge again.
He raises an eyebrow at you and pulls his hand away from your thigh. You’re about to whine when he brings it back in a sharp slap. 
“Shit,” you hiss. 
“You liked that, didn’t you?” he asks. You nod with big eyes. “Use your words.”
“Fuck, yes, I liked it,” you rush out the second his finger traces a light line up your clothed cunt. 
“I can tell,” he snarks. “Just tell me if it’s too much.”
“It won’t be,” you insist. He pulls his hand away and looks at you surprisingly soft for a second.
“Tell me if it is,” he repeats.
“I will,” you promise. 
“Good,” he says and hooks his fingers inside the band of your panties, pulling them down your legs and casting them aside in one motion. “That’s better.” 
In another surprise, Wonwoo doesn’t dive right into your cunt the way you expect him to given how frenzied everything has been so far. Instead, he trails kisses from your knee up your inner thigh. Pausing occasionally to nip into the skin before running his tongue over the mark to soothe it. You’re writhing on the bed by the time his breath ghosts across your cunt. The chuckle is low and deep as you squirm when he moves to your other thigh. You’re going to die before he even touches you. 
“Jesus fuck, Wonwoo, if you don’t start eating me out…” you start, a hand winding into his hair.
He pops up and glares at you. “You’ll what? Did you already forget who’s in charge?” 
“I’ll…” you start, before cutting off with a sharp, “FUCK!”
He’s still got his eyes on you when his thumb runs quickly through your folds to press against your clit. There’s barely any movement but it anchors you in place. “That’s what I thought.” 
His kisses up your other thigh are much sloppier with a thumb still in place. It only makes you squirm more, searching for some kind of relief. When he finally gets to your lips, you expect he’s going to tease you again. You’re wrong. Again. His tongue dives into your pussy while his other hand keeps you spread open. This man knows what he’s doing and it’s immediately more than you’re expecting. You can’t stop your legs from snapping closed to box him in. That is, until he pulls his hands off you to spread your legs wide again, giving him the best access to you. It’s clear that he’s in charge and he wants you to know it. 
It’s everything you can do not to thrash around, but Wonwoo seems to be ready to help there. He’s got a hand on your stomach anchoring you down to the bed. You’re not even sure how he’s got enough hands to move them along your body the way he seems to. Without warning, he moves his mouth up to pay attention to your clit. And he doesn’t give you a break, sliding two fingers into you and immediately scissoring them open. He sets a brutal pace, curling his fingers to hit you where he seems to know you need him on some of the passes. 
“Fuck, Wonwoo, oh my god, fuck,” you scream out.
“You gonna come for me, baby?” he sneers at you from between your legs.
“Yes, fuck,” you moan. “Your fingers, oh my god.” 
“You’re so fucking tight,” he groans.
In the next moment, you’re coming so hard you squirt over those amazing fingers of his. Your vision whites out around the edges and your toes are curling. It’s all you can do to catch your breath as Wonwoo’s fingers pump through the high. 
“I don’t remember the last time I came that hard,” you admit.
“We’re not done yet,” he shares and the tone of his voice has you nearly clenching your legs together. “Turn over. Get on your hands and knees.” 
“So bossy,” you say with a roll of your eyes. You turn over anyway, though, and put your ass in the air. 
“This is a really good fucking view,” he says. You feel the bed dip when he gets back in place after removing his boxers. 
Wonwoo has one hand on your hip and the other is running up your back to press you down further. To help you get that perfect arch of your back. You wiggle your ass at him and are rewarded with a stinging smack. Your moan is muffled by the pillow, so you turn your head to the side. Already know he wants to hear you. When he smacks your other ass check, you nearly scream out.
“That’s it, I want to hear you,” he encourages. 
“Please, Wonwoo, just fuck me already,” you beg. 
“One orgasm wasn’t enough?” he asks and you can hear the cockiness in his voice. Bringing a ringing smack down on your ass again. You scream out at the sting. 
“No, I want you to split me open,” you whine. In any other situation you might be embarrassed by the admission, but not now. Not with him. Not when it’s so clearly turning him on. 
“Greedy little thing,” he comments. His fingers press into your cunt again and you nearly yelp. 
There’s no time to adjust when Wonwoo removes his fingers and immediately lines himself up at your entrance. With one snap of his hips, he’s fully inside you and you’re hissing. He’s bigger than you were guessing, even with the outline in his boxers. And he doesn’t give you a break as he starts fucking you hard. All you can hear is the sound of his skin slapping against yours and the mingled moans from both of you. You’re sensitive from both the pace and the earlier orgasm. Your legs feel like they would collapse under you if they could. 
As if the pace isn’t enough, Wonwoo snakes an arm around you to reach for your clit, rubbing circles into it at the same pace as his thrusts. You can tell he’s nowhere near close, but you’re about to lose control again and you’re not sure how to stop it.
“Fuck, Wonwoo, slower, I’m going to - fuck!” you whine out. 
“You gonna come again? So soon, baby?” he taunts. 
“I can’t - fuck, please,” you beg. “I’m so close.” 
“I want you to  make a mess of my dick the same way you made a mess of my fingers,” Wonwoo directs. 
“But you haven’t…” you start and Wonwoo removes his hand from your clit. You cry out at the loss until his other hand grabs your hair to yank you back against his chest. When it’s clear you’re not going to move, his hand moves from your hair to your throat.
“I want you to come for me. Right now. Show me how good I feel inside that tight pussy,” he directs.
It’s one of the most surprising reactions, the way your body immediately responds to him. He’s got you coming just as hard as the first time and he doesn’t give you a chance to second guess any of it. As the shocks rip through your body, you notice that Wonwoo does slow down his thrusts. Doesn’t pull out of you, though. You collapse forward and arch your back again so it’s easier to meet Wonwoo’s continued pace.
“You’re so good at listening,” he praises.
“Not usually,” you mumble into the pillow through the haze. 
“I must be special,” he says as he lazily fucks into you.
“Jesus Wonwoo, you can fuck me. I know you haven’t finished yet,” you grumble.
“In a rush to go somewhere?” he teases. 
“No, but it must be…well, I don’t know. Hard for you,” you mumble into the sheets. 
“I’ve got excellent control,” Wonwoo says, all confidence. “I’m not in a rush to end this.” 
Despite your instance, he continues to lazily snap his hips into you. It’s so slow, way too slow. He reaches down to pull you up against his chest again, still keeping the pace. His hands are on your breasts, squeezing them to anchor you to him. He rolls one of your nipples roughly between his fingers to see what he gets as a reaction. Your moan seems to spur him on further. Each time pain shoots through some part of your body, it only seems to turn you on more. It’s easy to forget why you agreed to this in the first place. 
For all the demands, Wonwoo is actually very attentive as well. He peppers kisses from behind your ear all the way down your shoulder and back, paying special attention to the areas that seem to get the best response from you. He’s also careful with where he nips you, never biting hard enough to leave a mark somewhere that couldn’t be easily hidden. The entire experience has been so all-consuming that there isn’t space for any other thoughts in your head. It’s just him and this hotel room that’s entirely too fancy. 
He must feel that you’re starting to get worked up because he pushes you back down into the bed. His pace finally picks up again, which is good because you’re sprinting towards being too sore to actually enjoy it anymore. The pace gets much faster again, not nearly as rhythmic as before. His fingers dig into your hips as he thrusts. It’s the first time it actually feels like he’s losing control. 
“Oh my god,” you cry out. “I’m gonna come again. Oh my god!” 
“Me too,” he groans through a stuttered breath. “Fuck, where can I come?” 
“I don’t care,” you cry out. You’re about to have your third orgasm. “On my back, on my ass, I don’t fucking care, just come with me.” 
You press a finger to your clit to try and help you over that last bit to tumble over the edge so that Wonwoo can chase his own relief. The second your body starts shaking, you feel him pull out. He must pump his cock a few times because there’s a slight delay before you feel something hit your back. You feel a little proud with how much cum you feel on your skin, like maybe he was a little more affected by you than he wanted to let on. 
As soon as Wonwoo lays down next to you on the bed, you also collapse onto your side. The bed is soft, but your knees are still a little sore from spending so much time on them. Wonwoo immediately pulls you into him so that he can kiss you breathless. His hand is behind your head, keeping you from pulling away. The chemistry between the two of you is intense. Not something you were prepared for. It’s clear that if one of you doesn’t stop, then you’ll be fucking him again. And your body needs a break.
“I should get cleaned up,” you say when you pull back, more than slightly breathless. 
“Let me just get cleaned up a little and then you can take a shower,” he says. 
He presses a kiss to your temple and then gets up off the bed. There’s no point in pretending you aren’t watching him as he walks to the bathroom. He’s all lean lines and unexpected muscles. Nobody should be allowed to look the way he does, to look so good that Greek gods would be jealous. And yet here he is. 
A few minutes later, he emerges from the bathroom and arches an eyebrow at you. There’s a towel slung low around his hips in a way that should be a sin. “You’re going to make me think that you want more.”
“I don’t even know if I’m going to be able to stand,” you joke as an answer.
It surprises you a little when he comes over to the bed and helps you up. That is, until you see the way his eyes take you in. There’s nothing soft there, only predatory. Like you’re a meal he wants to return to. Your brain still feels a little slow to catch up, but registers something like he’s analyzing you. Still, he helps you get to the bathroom, points out the toiletries, and then disappears back into the room. 
By the time you’re clean and wrapped in the softest bathrobe you’ve ever worn, Wonwoo is sitting at the table wearing shorts and his glasses with nothing else. He’s scrolling absently through his phone and picking at some snacks that hadn’t been there when you had gone to shower. You didn’t think you’d been in there long, so it’s surprising he was able to get something up so quickly. When he notices you’re out of the bathroom, he indicates the food.
“I ordered us some snacks and they were happy to get them up here quickly,” he says. 
You take a seat across from him a little apprehensively. This is the part that you hadn’t really considered. How do you excuse yourself from the situation in a way that ensures you’ll see him again? It’s not that you want to have a repeat, though there’s part of your brain that is not opposed like you should be. It’s just…well with the room and the toiletries and the fast room service, you’re sure that this is the man you’re looking for. Which, admittedly, might make things a little complicated. But, you do have a job to do.
“I guess I am hungry,” you admit and reach for something.
“Glad you’re not going to make me eat alone,” he muses. 
“You already paid for dinner and drinks, I wasn’t expecting more treats,” you admit. 
“Seems fitting after the mindblowing sex,” he says and watches you, a clear glint to his eyes. “I can’t get over how insanely hot it was to watch you squirt for me.” 
Your cheeks redden without your permission. He’s so free with admitting it even with the moment having passed. Maybe he’s more trouble than you realized. 
“Seems like I wasn’t the only one to enjoy myself if my back is any indication,” you toss out. 
“I really enjoyed the way you told me I could come on your back,” he shares.
“And my ass,” you remind him.
“I got that too,” he reminds you. “And what a nice ass it is.” 
“Careful or I’ll ask you to blow my back out again,” you say, voice slightly betraying that you’re affected by his very presence. 
“That makes me think you were going to head out and never see me again,” Wonwoo ventures.
“I haven’t decided yet,” you say, trying to be coy.
Wonwoo fixes you with a stare that you can’t quite decipher. It nearly makes you squirm under the intensity. Is he just like that? The kind of person that does everything with that burning look in his eyes. 
“Let me ask you something, Agent,” he begins and your mouth runs dry. You do everything you can not to let him know that you’re a second away from losing it. “Do you fuck all your targets? Or am I special?”
The way he smirks at you lets you know that he knows he’s onto something. Knows exactly who you are. Or maybe who you work for, at least. He’s made you and you’re not entirely sure you’re safe anymore. You’re also not entirely sure what the best move is. Probably take half a second too long to decide if his face is any indication. 
“Agent? Target?” you laugh out. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” 
“Don’t you?” he presses. “Really, we shouldn’t be lying to each other so early in the relationship.” 
“I’m here doing…” you start.
“Research, yes. That’s what you said. And you almost had me when it took so long to run into you again. Your Spanish is flawless. It doesn’t sound like someone that learned at some secret agency. You’re much better at languages than any of the other agents that have come after me. And waiting so long to meet me again, genius. It really had me second guessing who you were,” he says. “But then, you made a mistake. Do you know what it was?” 
“Going on a date with someone that’s clearly a little delusional?” you ventured. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
“Oh, I think you do,” he says, confident. “I’ll tell you where you fucked up. It was dinner tonight. No, not something you said or did because you were shockingly smooth with it. It’s that you agreed to it at all. I suggested a place no researcher would ever go to. Because it used to be the site of a religious monument, but it fell into disrepair. A local crime family took it over. Only locals bother going there, but no researcher ever would.” 
Your heart sinks. Through all your research and all your planning, you knew that you would never be able to get everything. There just wasn’t the time. So, you had to hope that the person you were chasing wouldn’t notice any small missteps. Or would write them off with your cover story. What you had not planned for was this. In all your careful consideration, you had not planned to go on a date with the art thief himself. He had you and he knew it. It’s hard to see the right path out of this. 
It had been a gamble to get close to him the way you had. A gamble that you questioned taking and took anyway. A gamble you took without clearing it with Seungcheol. Usually, getting close to a target this way, you talk to him to make sure that he thinks it’s a good idea too. Make sure that this kind of move will fit the profile for the person that you’re chasing. This time, you’re flying blind. You had gotten a little ahead of yourself. A little sloppy. This isn’t the type of work you’re known for. It’s not the reason that you were sent down to Buenos Aires to chase him on a secret mission. 
“One mistake,” you sigh with a shake of your head. 
“Yeah, just the one,” he agrees. 
“So why did you invite me back here?” you ask. 
Wonwoo shrugs. “I’m curious about you.” 
“Curious? You risked inviting me back to your actual hotel room over curiosity?” you ask, looking around. 
“Who’s to say this is actually my room?” he says with another casual shrug. You clock it on his face as soon as he says it. 
“No, it is your actual room. The comfort, the speed of the room service, the way things are laid out. It’s not staged. This is just where you’re staying,” you observe. That makes him smile in a way you’re not expecting.
“Good eye,” he agrees. “Now for my question. Do you fuck all your targets?” 
“No,” you say shortly. 
“Why even agree to go on a date with me, then?” he presses. 
You sigh and sit further back into your chair. Take a piece of fruit from the table to buy yourself some time. “I don’t know. It wasn’t a good decision, obviously. I wasn’t even sure you were my target. There was just…something about you.” 
“So you’ve never fucked a target before? I’m special?” he asks with a smirk.
“I didn’t say that,” you respond. “I just don’t usually fuck a target without clearing it first.” 
“Who knows you’re here with me?” he asks.
“Nobody,” you answer. It’s too honest. 
You’re not sure if you should have admitted that and even less sure if he’ll believe you. It is the truth, though. Nobody in the world knows where you are right now. It’s kind of a crossroads for you because Wonwoo isn’t dangerous. He’s never been violent, as far as your information shows. Despite being physically separated from your bag, you’re not exactly unarmed. And yes, he does look like he’s in shape, but you’re still confident that you can take him if it comes to that. Once again, your mind is running through a million calculations a second as you realize you definitely should have talked to Seungcheol. 
“I’m trying to figure you out,” he admits.
“How’s that going?” you ask sarcastically. 
“Not as well as it would normally,” he says. It’s something else that’s honest between the two of you. More honest than you’re expecting. “Most people are too easy to figure out. It’s boring. Nothing about you makes sense to me.” 
“And what about me is so difficult for you to figure out?” you ask, still lacing your words with sarcasm. 
“You know, despite me figuring out that you’re after me, you’re actually the best agent that they’ve ever sent. You fit into your role seamlessly. You’re just the right amount of charming. You blend into your surroundings because you don’t try to do anything to dull yourself. Against my better judgment, I am impressed. And yet, you still decided to come on the date. You’re clearly the best they have and you’re still here,” he says, gaze soft but analytical on you. 
“I’m going to keep my mouth shut,” you say carefully. 
“Why?” he asks. 
“You disarm me,” you admit. “I know so much about you and yet, here I am. Unwilling to leave even though you know what I’m here to do.” 
“Do you still want to turn me in?” he asks.
“Are you going to disappear into the wind the second I walk out that door?” you counter. 
He regards you for a moment. A moment too long, really. It makes you squirm in your seat. This isn’t going at all how you would have imagined. “No.” 
“Why?” you ask.
“Because I’m waiting to see how this whole thing plays out. You haven’t said that you want to turn me in. I can see you’re conflicted about it. So, I’m going to see how this plays out,” he answers. He holds up a hand when you open your mouth. Seems to predict you’re going to ask why again. “Because…okay, look. I know this is really weird. I know you’re here to try and find me. But, you’re actually interesting and that sex was fucking good. So, I don’t know, call me cocky. I’m not ready to let you walk away just yet.”
“If I can walk at all,” you grumble. 
“You were walking just fine from the bathroom. Maybe I need to really make sure you can’t walk,” he muses. 
The eye contact is too much and you turn your head away. You’re positive he’s onto you, especially when you carefully cross your legs. It’s just that he’s right, isn’t he? You can sit here and pretend that you only slept with him to keep him close while you tried to figure him out. Can say that it was all just part of the job and you didn’t enjoy it. Can say that you wanted to take a different approach since nobody else has been able to catch him.
That’s also very clearly a lie.
Seungcheol likes to know what his agents are up to, particularly when it comes to agents like you that deal with secret missions. Since you started as friends before he had to retire to his desk, he’s also very protective of you. He hates it when you suggest using your charm on a target like this. So, no, this isn’t just another target. This is something else entirely. You have to admit that you actually enjoyed it. That you would like to do it again. That you actually don’t even want to leave his room because you’re not convinced you’ll ever see him again. Which is really stupid, isn’t it? You should not care if you never see him again. Unless it means that you failed your mission. That’s not why you’re worrying about never seeing him again, though. 
Just as you’re about to open your mouth and say something else, your phone chirps from your bag. It’s a sign. You know it is. The sound is tied to Seungcheol. Which means he’s looking for a check-in. Which means you’re late, something that never happens with you. You’re standing up to get your phone before even realizing it. Wonwoo’s eyes track your movements. 
Cheol: hope you’re enjoying your trip! Send pictures when you can
It’s code. Sent through a normal message so that it doesn’t look suspicious. And so that it gives you the chance to ignore it if you’re not in a place where you can answer him. You don’t even hear Wonwoo approach as you’re mentally calculating how to respond to this.
“Is that code?” he asks and you nearly jump out of your skin at the sound of his low voice by your ear. God, nobody should have a voice like his.
“It’s my handler, I guess you could say,” you answer.
“Are you going to call him?” he asks.
“He’ll worry if I don’t,” you say and realize it’s true. 
Wonwoo steps around you to grab his own phone and then returns to his position at the table. “I’ll be quiet if you want to call.” 
There’s something kind of hot about how he says it. Like he doesn’t actually want to let you leave. Or like it’s an order to stay. You’re not sure if you’re reading too much into it. When you look over at him, his eyes are on his phone, but his lips turn up in a smile. He knows your eyes are on him and he’s still playing a game. A game that you just might lose, for the first time in your life. 
With a sigh, you shake your head and just fire off a text in response. You don’t have it in you to call Seungcheol and you also aren’t exactly sure what to say. He’s always been able to read your tone like it’s his own. After telling him you might have a lead, he’s going to know something is wrong. This is going to be a problem.
You: it’s been amazing, i’m loving each new thing i get to see in person. I’ll have some pictures to show you tomorrow!
It’s a signal that you’re not going to have anything new to share with him tonight and not to contact you again until you check in the next day. You’re not really sure if this is the right decision, but you need time to clear your head. This is the only way that you can see getting that. It’s too hard to think about making a decision when Wonwoo is still half naked and looking at you like you’re prey. At least you can assume that you could take him if you needed to. Thankfully, he’s not really looking at you like that kind of prey. 
“I’ll call him tomorrow,” you say.
“And what will you do tonight?” Wonwoo asks, looking up at you.
“I’m all yours, at least for tonight,” you say. 
You’re surprised the look he gives you doesn’t melt you into the floor. “I can work with that.”
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The next day brings more confusion than the night before. At least you’re back in your own hotel room and out of the intoxicating orbit of Wonwoo. The downside is that you couldn’t leave his bed without agreeing to lunch plans with him. Both of you wanted to get breakfast together, but hadn’t been able to get out of bed in time for that. You turned down his offer to just buy you new clothes so you wouldn’t have to leave his sight. Thankfully, he does seem to understand that you need a minute to process everything in the last 24 hours. It’s been a bit of a whirlwind.
That’s not what you need to focus on right now, though. You don’t have any more messages from Seungcheol, which is what you expected. Still, you need to call him before he doesn’t something to check on you. Like sending Chan to your hotel with some made up story. You don’t want to put anyone in that position. You also don’t really know what you’re going to say. When you left Wonwoo’s hotel room, he made it clear: the choice was yours. He wants to see you again and he also knows that he’s asking a lot. Too much, probably. So, he’s giving you a choice. If you show up at lunch to meet him, then you’re at least willing to get to know him a little more before deciding anything. If you stand him up, then he’ll know you can’t agree to that. It’s a major gamble for him because you know what he looks like and his real name. You have more than you need to put an end to years of his hard work. 
Nothing in your life has prepared you for this. Not really. Sure, you train for missions and you perfect your skills. But, emotions have never been part of it. It’s always been so easy to separate your humanity from your job. Kind of like you just switch of anything that makes you normal and go into mission-mode. You once compared it to being an actor because you’re just playing a part. None of it is real and none of it is really your decision. This is uncharted territory for you.
Once you catch your breath, you pull a device out of the secret pocket in your bag so that you can connect it to your phone. It’ll scramble the signals and make the line secure so that you can call Seungcheol. It’s a bit of normalcy that you’re craving in the madness around you. 
“Finally, I’ve been worried,” Seungcheol answers. 
“I answered you right away,” you point out.
“Yes, to say that you would not be calling me,” Seungcheol presses and you sigh.
“Because I don’t have anything new to report,” you say without even realizing when you made the decision. The lie flows so easily. “I’ve been cataloging everything on everyone I see at the museums and galleries. Cross checking the names coming into the country. Surveying anyone that sticks out as I check things out.” 
“Hey, it’s okay,” Seungcheol cuts in.
“I’m here to find him, though,” you point out. You’re not sure why you’re doing this. 
“I know,” he says. “But, I’d rather you be safe.”
“I’m always safe,” you lie. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to pick up on it. 
“I know, but I also know you’re competitive,” he says. “Remember, we’ve already sent no less than 6 teams to find him and they’ve all failed.” 
“I don’t fail, though. That’s why you sent me,” you say. You’re not even sure why you’re arguing with him. 
“Just be careful. What happened with that lead you thought you had?” he asks. 
“A dead end,” you say with a practiced sigh. “Does the intelligence say he’s still in the city?” 
“I can’t imagine he’d leave without taking anything,” Seungcheol says. 
“Good point,” you say. “I’ll keep looking.” 
“Do you want me to send back-up?” he asks.
“It’s your mission,” you say noncommittally. “If you think it’ll help and we can still fly under the radar, then by all means.” 
“I was thinking of Chan since he’s still kind of in the area,” he says.
“Ah, yeah, I’m not sure,” you admit.
“You’re right, I know. I do want you to formally meet him soon, though. But, definitely not mid-mission,” he agrees. “Just be careful and keep me updated. If it goes on too long, we’ll just pull you. Maybe he got spooked.” 
“Yeah, that works,” you agree. 
“See you when you’re back,” he says.
“See you,” you answer and hang up.
It feels awful to lie to him, of all people. He’s one of the only people that you’ve ever trusted in your life. The only one that knows exactly who you are, knows all your demons, and still accepts you. He knows just how many people are six feet under because of you, knows the ways you’ve had to use your body, knows the lies you’ve told and the people you’ve hurt, both physically and emotionally. He knows all your scars and he accepts it. Because you know all his scars, too. It sucks to lie to him.
Sometimes they say that indecision is still a decision. That’s where you are now. You can say that you haven’t made a decision about what you’re going to do with Wonwoo. You can say that you’re waiting for more information. But, in a way, you’ve made at least one decision in his favor. You didn’t tell Seungcheol that your lead turned out to be the art thief himself. No. Instead, you’re showering and getting ready to meet him again, about to make yet another decision. Maybe you were always going to agree to lunch rather than stand him up. He’s got a lot to lose here too. It’s far more complicated than it should be. 
Your head is a little in the clouds by the time you leave your room to head down to the lobby and out into the comfortable winter air. If you spend a little more time than strictly necessary making sure you look nice, well that’s your business. The only drawback is that you don’t have Wonwoo’s phone number, at your own insistence, and so he may think you decided to stand him up. That worry lasts as long as it takes for you to reach the lobby. That’s where you see him, sitting casually in an armchair with his eyes locked on you. There’s no reason for the way your heart skips over such a simple outfit. It’s just a t-shirt and a leather jacket. Why are you nearly losing your mind?
“What are you doing here?” you ask and he gives you the most charming smile you’ve ever seen. It probably even puts your own smile to shame.
“I took a chance that you would decide in my favor,” he says and stands up.
“Confident,” you say, “but still, I was supposed to meet you at the restaurant since I hadn’t decided.”
“It’s a date. I’m picking you up,” he says and surprises you by placing a gentle kiss on your cheek . 
“Isn’t that chivalrous of you,” you comment while trying to convince your heart to stop beating out of your chest. 
“Shall we?” he asks and motions for you to walk ahead of him.
The chivalry doesn’t stop at picking you up at your hotel, unfortunately for you. He opens the door and then gently takes your hand. There’s a hand on your back when you step around him. He puts himself between you and any traffic. It’s the best anyone has ever treated you and you hate that you’re even noticing that. Now, you’re thinking that you should have stood him up for an entirely different reason.
Lunch feels like the most normal thing in the world. The real reason for being in this beautiful city doesn’t come up at all. Instead, you talk about life and interests. The type of music and food that you like. What you do in your free time. It’s exactly what you imagine first or second dates to be like. Not that you have much experience with actually dating. 
It only gets deeper from there with Wonwoo telling you more about himself. Not about how he really makes money, but it certainly helps you understand how he got involved and how he stays under the radar. As it turns out, he comes from a lot of money. He doesn’t say it in a way that sounds like he’s bragging. It makes sense, though. Everything about him screams old money, which fits the profile you put together. The way he carries himself, the way he speaks, the way he dresses. It doesn’t feel like someone that’s made his money from stealing art. You learn that he’s involved in a lot of charities, which surprises you a bit. You also learn that he sponsors students in a video game design program in his home country. There’s so much more to him than stealing art. In fact, that seems to be such a small part of who he is. It’s more than a little surprising, which is odd since it’s usually so hard to surprise you. It’s clear that he’s grown up around art. All this time and he’s just been hiding in plain sight. 
The two of you sit at lunch for so long that the servers finally, very politely, indicate that it’s time to leave. It’s never been this easy to sit with someone in your entire life. It’s a level of comfort that you should absolutely not feel with someone like Wonwoo. But, you can’t help it. You can’t help the way you feel around him. Can’t really fight the feelings that keep threatening to bubble up. 
The roads aren’t nearly as busy when you walk back towards your hotel. Even though it’s a tourist city, it still quiets down in the mid-afternoon when the local businesses close down. The tourists seem to use the time to also relax or take advantage of certain monuments being quieter. It lends itself to the comfortable silence that settles around you and Wonwoo on the walk. 
When you reach the lobby, you turn to face Wonwoo and your breath catches a little. The sun in July isn’t as strong, but it still provides a backlight like he’s some sort of dark angel. Which sounds insane, even if your head. There have been so many beautiful people in your life, yet this is the one that has you forgetting how to put words together. It’s like he knows exactly what you’re thinking when he steps into your space and takes your face in his hands. He kisses you so fiercely that you forget your name. It’s the kind of kiss that doesn’t look like much from the outside, but changes your entire world on the inside. 
“Well how am I supposed to go back to my room and leave you now?” you ask against his lips when he pulls back. You can feel the smile on his own lips when he kisses you again.
“Isn’t it obvious?” he whispers. 
“No,” you whisper back and kiss him again.
“I don’t want you to leave me,” he says. 
That makes you pull back sharply so that you can search his face. Does he realize how that sounds? It makes you wonder if he means more than just tonight. What is he trying to do to you? How many ways can one man make you reconsider everything you stand for? Nothing about his face looks smug or even insincere. In fact, he looks the way you imagine you feel. A little smitten and a lot unsure of what to do next. 
“And what would I do instead?” you ask, though you have an idea where he’s going.
“Go pack a bag of some of your things and come stay with me for the next few days,” he requests. It’s just bordering on a demand, even though it’s clearly your call. 
“Are you crazy? We barely know each other,” you protest without much heat. 
“What better way to get to know each other?” he counters. He grabs your hips, pulling you close to his body so he can wrap his arms around you. “And think about it. I can see you’re still not sure what you want to do. If you’re with me, you’ll know where I am at all times. I can’t get into any trouble while you’re still deciding.” 
“I suppose you do make a point,” you concede. 
“I have never done anything this reckless in my life. So, I’m just asking for a chance,” he shares.
It’s a little insane for him to say this is the most reckless thing he’s done in his life. Surely, stealing art is crazier than this. Which would make you lean towards not believing him if it weren’t for the voice in the back of your head. That little voice that agrees with him. You’ve put your life in danger more times than you can count, but saying yes to the man in front of you feels like the most dangerous idea yet. Maybe it’s because you know it’s not your body you’re putting on the line, but your heart. And maybe, just maybe, that’s what he means too. That he’s never taken the chance to chase someone like this. Or maybe you just want to believe that you might be special. 
All you can do is nod at him and watch the smile that breaks across his face. It’s honest, unguarded. It’s real. There’s nothing behind it except genuine happiness that you agreed to spend the next few days with him. Before you can second guess your decision, you give him one more kiss and nearly run up to your room. 
Being separated from him gives you the chance to actually catch your breath. To focus on what you need to bring with you. Since, apparently, you’re not going to reconsider if this is actually a good idea or not. You know you should. You know that this is another one of those moments that you chalk up to indecision when your actual decision could not be any louder. Again, you’re reminded of what you’re doing here. What you’re supposed to be doing here. This man is your enemy. He’s the person you’re supposed to be arresting and bringing into The Agency to face sentencing. You’re a good agent. You always put the mission ahead of yourself, your thoughts, your beliefs, or even your relationships. This isn’t a version of yourself that you recognize and it should stop you in your tracks.
Instead, you decide which dress to pack away and what pair of shoes looks best. For the first time in your life, you’re diving in first and asking questions later. Or never. 
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It shouldn’t be surprising that you end up naked in Wonwoo’s bed minutes after crossing the threshold to his hotel room. Not with how things have gone so far for the two of you. Yet, what is surprising is that the sex is even better than the night before. You’re catching your breath, tucked into Wonwoo’s side, body tacky with sweat but so impossibly happy. His hand that’s around you absently traces patterns into your skin. It’s honestly like you’ve known him for years. It’s insane to realize how comfortable you feel when that’s not something you ever experience. Not like this. 
It’s also shocking to you how much this man wants to share with you. He carries on your chats from lunch as if he hadn’t just fucked you into his mattress yet again. Like this means more than some dirty sex holed up in a hotel in a foreign city. Makes you feel like you might actually mean something to him, which is a very dangerous feeling to have. Both of you know that this can’t mean more than what it is. At least, you think you know that and you think he might too. But, there’s a clear understanding that you won’t talk about it. Not now, at least. 
Wonwoo decides that he wants to take you somewhere fancy for dinner. The type of place that you would never consider going to while on a mission. Though, you’re always prepared for anything. When you were packing up your things in your hotel room, you even grabbed a couple nicer dresses. All they needed was a quick steam, which the hotel staff had been only too happy to accommodate. Any protests about it being too much fell on deaf ears. He was set and the two of you were going to a famous restaurant. All you had to do was shower and get ready. Your dress would be ready by the time you needed it. 
It’s clear you don’t really understand the limits to Wonwoo’s wealth, if there even are any, when you arrive at the restaurant. It’s the kind of place where you usually need reservations well in advance. It’s not the kind of place you can just show up at. Despite that, the host leads you back to a semi-private area where you’re tucked into a corner booth. It’s clearly one of the nicest tables in the place. You think you catch Wonwoo sliding the host something when he shakes their hand before he turns back to you. All thoughts go out the window when he slides in right next to you, not leaving any space. 
Wonwoo’s Spanish really is very remedial and so you help him decipher the menu and order. It gives you pause when there aren’t prices anywhere on the menu, but he’s quick to wave off any concerns. Insists that it’s his treat. You don’t want to think that’s something you could get used to. It isn’t like you have any real trouble affording nice things. Your salary is high and you don’t have much to spend money on. This is a different level, though. It’s even different from the times you’ve gone on a mission and charmed your target. That always feels temporary. Like you’re something of an imposter. You don’t get those feelings here with Wonwoo.
Letting him pick out which outfit you wore may have been a mistake. You discover this once you get your drinks and the waiter leaves you alone. His hand rests possessively on your thigh, against the bare skin of your leg exposed by the slit in your dress. His body is angled towards you and he’s encouraging you to continue telling your story. But, he has to know he’s distracting, too, with the way his hand slides further up your thigh. What started as arguably innocent ventures quickly into dangerous territory. 
“You were saying?” he prompts. His hand is inside the fabric of your dress now, keeping you from pressing your thighs together like you want to. 
“I, uh…” you stutter as he digs his hand into the soft flesh there. “Wonwoo, aren’t you worried?”
“About what?” he asks innocently.
“Getting caught,” you hiss and look down at your lap.
“No, sweetheart, I’m not worried,” he says and you glare at him, “because you’re going to be good for me and be quiet.”
“I don’t know…” you start and stop as soon as his pinky grazes along your entrance through your panties. “Fuck.” 
“Doesn’t seem like you actually want me to stop,” he points out.
“I, fuck, you know I don’t but there are people,” you say softly.
“I paid good money for this table. I don’t think we’ll be disturbed,” he tells you. 
“I…” you start. When he pulls his finger away, you nearly whine.
“I need to hear you say you want it,” he says.
“What?” you ask, a little louder than you intended.
“Use your words,” he directs and you glare.
“Fuck you,” you hiss, earning a chuckle out of him. 
“Not yet,” he retorts.
“Fine, yes. I want your fingers inside me here in this damn restaurant,” you say.
He’s expecting this answer. It’s written all over his face. This time, he doesn’t tease you. Doesn’t waste any time because you may not have much of it. He simply pushes your panties to the side and slides his first finger into you. The angle doesn’t make it easy but his fingers are long and slender, like they were built for something like this. It’s hard to keep from making a sound, so you try to do anything to distract yourself from the way he pumps into you. Or the way he adds a second finger so quickly. 
When you pick up your drink to take a sip from the straw, you watch his eyes on you. They seem to darken the second that you wrap your lips around the straw. His fingers pump into you even faster. And his lips are demanding on yours when you set the drink back down. You moan softly into his mouth without really considering if anyone is paying attention or if they can hear you. His tongue tangles with yours frantically while he tries to get you off right in that booth. 
This is new for you. You definitely didn’t think you would get so turned on by the fact that anyone could walk back over to see what you were doing. Anyone could hear the noises you’re making. Anyone could figure it out. When he feels that your pussy clenching around his fingers, he pulls away from the kiss. Leans his forehead against yours so that he can whisper filthy things in the space between you. Tells you how good you feel and how he loves watching you when you’re about to come. Moans about how tight you are. How pliant you are for him. Reminds you to be quiet. Tells you he can’t wait to taste you on his fingers. That’s what finally pushes you over the edge.
Your fingers grip the edge of the booth underneath you as you come hard and fast. He lazily guides you through it and then follows through by bringing his fingers to his lips. It’s so hot that you consider asking if you can just leave and go back to the room to be fucked properly. But, then your stomach rumbles and you think better of it. It’s only another few minutes before the first course arrives with a slightly knowing look from the waiter. After that first course, you excuse yourself to the bathroom to clean up, at least a little. You deem your panties ruined and just remove them, tucking them away into your bag. You’ll have to be a little more careful the rest of the night.
This dinner is somehow even better than the first and it has nothing to do with the place being expensive, though the food is definitely amazing. You also don’t think it really has anything to do with the way Wonwoo fingered you under the table. That’s definitely a first for you. Exhibitionism hasn’t been your thing before, but maybe he’s got you learning new things about yourself. It had only taken him a minute to realize that you weren’t wearing underwear anymore. It definitely took him another minute to regain his composure.
The thing that actually makes this dinner better than the first is the man across from you. With his walls down, the entire night just feels that much more. It’s one of the only times you’ve ever felt your own guard come down. It’s not smart and you don’t care. You think you probably look a little punch drunk to anyone that can see your table. Then, you meet Wonwoo’s eyes again and think he probably looks the same. You never really have the chance to enjoy dates, but even if you did, this would still probably top them all. It’s all the little things. The way Wonwoo carefully brushes a strand of hair out of your face. The way he offers you a bite off his own plate when you say it looks good. The way he brings your knuckles up to his lips and presses feather light kisses to them. 
“Are you going to insist on ordering dessert here too?” you ask after the main course. 
“I was thinking we might have dessert back in our room,” he says and you raise an eyebrow.
“Our room?” you question.
“Don’t test me,” he cautions. 
“I wouldn’t dare,” you say and lean into him to press a slow kiss to his cheek. Your hand brushes over his lap as a way to get closer.
“Is this you not testing me?” he asks when your hand brushes across his lap again.
“What? You can make me come on your fingers but I can’t tease you a little?” you ask innocently.
Wonwoo grabs your hand and anchors it on your own thigh. “We’re getting out of here and then you can show your appreciation however you want. We don’t need to give them more of a show.” 
It seems like it takes an eternity to pay the bill (which Wonwoo doesn’t let you see) and get a cab back to the hotel. The promise of something else simmers between you the entire time. Wonwoo keeps a hand on you the entire time. A hand on your lower back out of the restaurant, fingers intertwined with yours in the cab, an arm around you walking into the hotel. When you get into the elevator, he pulls you back against his chest as more people join. He masks it as affection and presses a kiss to your cheek, but you feel the desire beneath it. 
The moment you cross into the room, you slip out of your shoes and turn around to press a kiss to Wonwoo’s lips. The tension between the two of you is thick and it’s hard to remind yourself to come up for a breath. He overwhelms every one of your senses. There’s nothing but him in every corner of your brain when he kisses you like that. 
It’s almost embarrassing when he breaks the kiss and you chase his lips. “How about dessert?”
“I thought that was just your way of saying…” you start and he directs your attention to the table. There’s an assortment of fruit, whipped cream, and melted chocolate there. 
You’re a little hesitant when he starts to walk to the table. It just feels incredibly intimate, which is true for a lot of what's happened with Wonwoo. But, this still feels different. It feels like more, once again. Wonwoo realizes that you’re not behind him and turns back to you. He closes the space between you yet again and places a hand on your cheek, impossibly soft. 
“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” he asks. 
“I’ve never done…this,” you say softly into the quiet between you and him. 
“Pretty sure we’ve already fucked several times,” Wonwoo says to lighten the mood.
“No, I mean, this…I don’t know. The desserts and the whipped cream and chocolate. It just feels, I don’t know, intimate,” you admit. 
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he assures you. 
It’s absolutely insane that you’re hesitating. It doesn’t have to be some super intimate thing. It’s not like Wonwoo hasn’t already seen every inch of you and gotten to know your body better than anyone should in that period of time. But, this is far beyond the point where you can convince yourself any part of this is for the mission anymore. This isn’t just to keep him close. This is no longer indecision, as much as you want to pretend that it is.
“Is this your go-to move, then? Have a bunch of sweets delivered to the hotel room and seduce people with being all gentle?” you ask.
“I’ve definitely never done this before,” he says and it’s too honest. 
Instead of answering him you just kiss him because it’s the only answer you can think of. Somehow, knowing that this is different for him too makes it feel less overwhelming for you. You drag him back towards the table until you’re leaning against it. Your back arches into him as he licks into your mouth. His hands wrap around you to keep you tight against his body. He pulls away again and you’re ready for it this time. 
Wonwoo reaches an arm behind you and dips a strawberry in some of the chocolate. He brings it to your lips and watches intently as you get your mouth around it. The first bite sends a little bit of juice and chocolate over your lips. Just as you’re about to wipe it away, Wonwoo pulls the remainder of the strawberry back and kisses it away. It’s like that one action unlocks any hang ups you have. You twist around to scoop up some whipped cream with your finger. Your eyes lock on Wonwoo as you slowly lick it off. With it still in your mouth, you kiss him hard, enjoying the way your tongues dance and the tastes. 
The two of you take turns dipping fruit and feeding it to each other. The kisses become more and more desperate in between feeding each other. It’s a little messy, though, so you unbutton Wonwoo’s shirt and slide it off his arms. He undoes your dress to slide it off your body, removing your bra along the way. You rid him of his pants and briefs as well so that you’re not the only one standing there naked. 
When you reach back to get more fruit, Wonwoo grabs your hand to stop you. There’s a question in your eyes that he leaves unanswered as he moves things out of the way behind you. Then, he’s sitting you on the edge of the table and reaching for the whipped cream, which also answers your question. He puts some of the topping on your breast and sucks into your skin to lick it off you. Your legs part on their own as you lean back on the table to encourage him to get closer. He swirls his tongue around your nipple before softly nipping at your skin. Without warning, he bites into the flesh of your breast and laves over the spot to soothe you. 
Food should not be this sexy. Maybe it’s just that it’s Wonwoo tempting you, but you’ve never been this turned on. His tongue is everywhere across your breasts and your stomach. Covering you in kisses while also licking the whipped cream or chocolate off of you. Your nails scratch down his back each time he nips into your skin. Somehow the sensations are everywhere all at once. You wrap your legs around his waist to anchor him closer to you. 
“I need you inside me,” you whine out with Wonwoo kissing along your neck.
“Are you sure you’re ready for that?” he asks into your skin.
“Feel for yourself,” you encourage. 
Wonwoo pulls away from your neck and looks at you with lust. He presses his fingers to your mouth and you suck them in without even thinking about it. They’re sweet as you swirl your tongue around them. “Fuck, that’s hot.” 
As if it’s confirmation, he ruts against you, seemingly hard just from all the making out and the food. You pull his fingers from your mouth and guide them to your already dripping pussy. He’s not the only one that’s gotten insanely turned on. As soon as you guide his fingers through your folds he groans again. 
Neither one of you is in the mood to wait and he doesn’t waste any time angling his hand so he can pump his fingers inside you. Just presses two fingers right in and adds a third to try and open you up. It makes you scream out, praising his fingers with how quickly they work you over. He removes his hand entirely too quickly and you’re whining at the loss. Wonwoo runs a hand along his cock, pumping a couple times and catching some of the precum to spread it along his length. It’s not enough, but you don’t really care right now. 
“Please, Wonwoo, I need you,” you beg.
“Feeling a little desperate, princess?” he teases, that cocky smirk back on him. 
“Just fuck me already,” you whine. 
Wonwoo doesn’t say anything else, just lines himself up and presses his tip into you. It stretches you out and you’re a little surprised that he goes so slowly. Then, you realize that it feels like more when he’s inching into you like this. His eyes watch you for any signs of discomfort. He leans forward and catches your lips in the neediest kiss of the night when he bottoms out in you. You lean back onto your elbows, bringing him along with you. The kisses get sloppier as he starts to thrust into you. 
He pulls away from you to reposition and presses your leg up so that he can get deeper. You let your leg fall over his arm so that you don’t have to hold it up. The moans between the two of you are loud enough to drown out the sound of skin on skin as he fucks into you hard. You can’t help it, though, and you throw your head back in pleasure.
“Look at me,” he directs roughly. 
You moan in response but tilt your head back towards him. It feels like a chore and that’s when it occurs to you. Taking hold of his free hand, you move it to your throat. For a second, his eyes go wide and his pace slows. He’s searching your face for a clue before he grabs your throat a little more forcefully.
“Are you sure?” he asks.
“Yes, fuck,” you groan out. “I’ll tap you if it’s too much.” 
“You’re so fucking hot,” he utters, flexing his fingers on your throat.
Somehow, Wonwoo seems to know the perfect amount of pressure. It’s just tight enough that it makes it a little harder to breathe, but not so much that it’s actually choking you. He seems more comfortable than when he did it the first time. It also makes it easier to keep your eyes on him the way he wants. Everything feels heightened and it’s entirely too soon that you’re rushing to your high. You clench your walls around Wonwoo and he fucks you harder, groaning at the increased tightness.
“Gonna come all over my dick again?” he asks and you moan. 
You can’t really say anything and you don’t want to. This is all you need. Your hand winds down your body and you look at Wonwoo with a question in your eyes.
“Go ahead, baby, touch yourself,” he directs you. 
Asking for permission to do anything is unlike you, but there’s something about wanting to please this man that drives you to all sorts of new things. You rub your clit in time with his thrusts and it seems like only moments pass before you’re tipping over that edge. 
Heavy breaths eventually subside to find Wonwoo slowly, almost lazily, fucking into you. His hands are now both on your hips as he waits for you to come down. You sit up with him still inside you and kiss him, slow and full of all sorts of unspoken things.
“You really are fucking amazing,” you say, voice a little hoarse. “You can move faster.”
“I was thinking we might need to get into the shower,” he says with a smirk, pressing a finger to your skin. You’re about to object when you watch him pull it away and it sticks. 
“Maybe I can take care of you in there, then,” you say and kiss him softly. 
His eyes seem to light up a little at that. He slides out of you gently and walks slowly into the bathroom. You meant what you said. Shower sex is definitely not your thing because it’s never as sexy as people make it out to be. It can be slippery and there aren’t really any good positions. That doesn’t mean you can’t help him out a little. 
Wonwoo has other ideas first, it seems. Once the water is warm enough, both of you get in and he lathers up a loofah to gently wash all the stickiness from your body. It’s gentle in a way you’re not expecting and impossibly thoughtful. You relax against his back with his arms around you while he makes sure all the remnants are gone. 
When you’re clean, you turn around to face him and kiss him hard. The water falling on your back creates the perfect sensation with the heat between the two of you. He gathers you against his body, hands sliding down to grip your ass. It’s all you can do not to melt right on the spot. You think that you could probably kiss this man for the rest of your life and never get bored. Or never fully prepare yourself for the way it makes you feel. 
You drop to your knees and take his cock in your hand. He leans back against the wall of the shower as he looks down on you. It’s crazy to you how turned on this man gets (or stays) just from kissing or skin contact. No matter what, his body always seems to be ready for you. You run your tongue along his length and swirl your tongue around the tip. You’re impatient and you know he’s been waiting, so you don’t waste any time before you suck him into your mouth. You relax your throat and swallow as much of his cock as you’re able to, alternating between bobbing and hollowing out your cheeks. 
“You look so good looking up at me like that,” he groans. 
You hum around his dick and Wonwoo grabs the back of your head to anchor you there. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes before he releases you and you can get a breath. Even in this position, you can tell that you actually have control over this man. It’s a great feeling since he’s been in control every other time. His hips buck when you suck him back into you. It’s definitely a powerful feeling. The groans also tell you what you already know, you’re good at this. He’s putty in your hands. 
With a few more bobs, he’s coming down your throat and then slumping back against the shower wall. It doesn’t stop him from helping you up off your knees. You pepper light kisses along his collarbones before he surprises you and pulls you into another kiss. It’s never been your experience that a man wants to kiss you like that, but he doesn’t shy away. 
“We better get out of this shower before we run through all the hot water,” he says between kisses.
“You’re right,” you say with a sigh. 
The two of you step out of the shower and Wonwoo is quick to wrap you up in a towel. It takes everything in you to tell your heart to calm down. You know Wonwoo feels all the same things you do. Even if he's not free with vocalizing his emotions, his actions tell you exactly what he’s thinking. If you know where to look, that is. You’re realizing that you definitely know where to work. 
Twenty minutes later, your skin care routine is done and you’re curled up in bed in one of Wonwoo’s oversized t-shirts. You know your alarm is going to be too early tomorrow since you need to check in with Seungcheol, but all you want to do tonight is curl up and talk more with this incredibly interesting man. 
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Something seems to shift now that you’re holed up in Wonwoo’s hotel room with him for the next however many days. Before, he seemed hesitant to talk about the real reason you two crossed paths. You’re not sure what causes the change or why he trusts that you’re not going to just turn around and burn him. Maybe it’s just that you haven’t done it yet. 
“What made you want to start stealing art?” you ask while the two of you are sitting outside on the balcony. This room really is too nice. It almost makes it hard to leave and explore. 
“I don’t know if it was that I wanted to steal art,” he chuckles. 
“Okay, how did you start, then?” you ask with an affectionate eye roll. 
“It’s going to sound stupid,” he says with an uncharacteristic shyness. “I guess, I don’t know, I grew up in this house where nobody ever seemed to care what I was doing. I stole the first piece from my parents and sold it off to someone I’d met at this underground club. I figured my parents would catch me and then at least I’d have their attention for a minute.”
“I’m guessing they didn’t catch you,” you comment.
“They didn’t even notice it was gone,” he says with a chuckle. “How old were you?” you ask.
“16,” he answers immediately.
“So you’ve been doing this…?” you start, doing the math in your head.
“12 years, yeah,” he says. “It took awhile to get to the point I’m at now. I think for a while I was figuring that my parents would somehow catch on and give a shit about my life. By the time I was 19, I was really good at it and I’d made a lot of contacts. I still moved in all those circles so I never looked out of place at a gallery or a museum. Nobody looked twice at me.”
“Did it ever get lonely?” you ask and Wonwoo regards you for a moment. “I just mean that you were still part of all these circles. You still went to all these parties and it seems like none of them knew you at all. You were hiding in plain sight because nobody knew you well enough to see it.”
“I had the networks of people that I sold to or accepted jobs from,” he says.
“But everything I’ve ever seen says that you rarely met with those people in person. It was always online contact and leaving pieces somewhere after the money had been wired,” you share.
“I guess your agency got a few things right,” he mumbles.
“It sounds loney,” you say sympathetically.
“I wish you were a little less observant,” he says like he’s trying for a joking tone. 
It’s immediately obvious that he’s a little tired and definitely lonely. You can’t really imagine that type of life. Sure, you’ve been working on your own or with a single partner for your entire adult life. But, you’ve still been part of an organization. There are people that know you at your core. There are people that you can turn to when everything in life feels like it sucks. No matter how bad things get, you know there are people out there who can support you.
Almost involuntarily, a series of images pop into your head. Wonwoo in a suit at a charity gala, the type of person that everyone wants to approach. You can imagine people whispering behind their hands about going to speak to him or ask him to dance. Maybe trying to approach him at the bar. Then you see him just as clearly at home afterwards, alone and sitting on his couch with a drink in hand. You see him perusing a museum to get the lay of the land so that he can steal it later. Once again, alone. You see how he probably sits at home communicating with all his potential buyers. 
Wonwoo reads the look on your face and assures you that it’s probably not as bad as you’re imagining things. Yes, he admits that he’s lonely sometimes and that he’s alone more than he’s with other people. It’s hard for him to let anyone in. He doesn’t want to have to account for his time or trust that they won’t blow his cover. There’s nobody in his life that he can be totally himself with, at least not until meeting you. But, he insists that it hasn’t been so bad. Mostly, he prefers to be on his own anyway. He likes the quiet and the solitude. Likes to be able to enjoy his down time however he likes. He gets enough socialization when he goes to events as he’s expected to. 
Which brings up a question. After over a decade of doing everything solo, why has he trusted you with all of this now? His answer comes more immediately than you would expect, yet it makes sense. You have something to lose here, too. Possibly even more than he does. After all, there have been a lot of teams that have been close to unraveling his mysterious identity. You, on the other hand, are supposed to be tracking him down. Not spending time locked away in his hotel room with him. That brings you up a little short because he’s right and you’re not planning on going anywhere. 
He admits that you intrigue him. All his life, Wonwoo has appreciated a good puzzle or a good challenge. You present both to him, though it hasn’t been as much of a challenge to get you to give him a chance as he expected. It is a challenge to try and unravel you. To try and figure out what made you say yes to the date and what makes you stay now. You also meet him on a level that nobody ever has before. You nearly blush at the way he describes your intelligence and how he feels more turned on by your brain than anyone before. Normally something like that would make you cringe. But, somehow Wonwoo makes it sound both sexy and endearing. You’re just as challenged by him, too, so maybe you get it. 
It also brings up some very conflicting feelings in you because it’s a reminder that you have a life entirely separate from him. You have a life that doesn’t allow you to account for this time. At some point, you have to make a final choice. It’s way too late to just turn Wonwoo in without any sort of repercussion. It’s too late to act like this is all just in the name of bringing down one of the most difficult targets you’ve had to track. In the name of getting to know Wonwoo better, you’ve also shared a lot about yourself. A lot that someone like Seungcheol would be able to clock immediately as being true. Every moment you stay with Wonwoo makes your future more complicated. Things are already too hazy. 
“Okay enough heavy stuff,” you declare and stand. “Let’s go do something.”
“Such as?” he prompts. 
“We’re in a beautiful city, let’s go see some of it,” you suggest.
Wonwoo wants to take a minute to actually plan something, but you veto that. He’s definitely not the spontaneous type, which you figured out before you were even sure who he was. It makes more sense now, knowing who he is. So it feels like more of a win that he relents and agrees to just go with the flow. It’s not as if you’ll be flying totally blind anyway. You did a lot of research before coming down for the mission and you know a lot of the places to see, both tourist places and some that are off the beaten path. 
Once you’re outside of the hotel room, things feel different in a way you can’t quite put your finger on. Everything in the hotel room feels real in the sense of getting to know each other. The conversations can be heavy and there’s that constant need to rip each other’s clothes off. Being outside exploring a foreign city feels real in an entirely different way. None of the conversations are heavy since you’re just appreciating the sights. But, you and Wonwoo trade off in taking pictures of each other (or even snap some together) and it feels like a glimpse at another life. It isn’t a fantasy world because it does feel real, but it doesn’t feel like an actual reality either. It almost feels like a mission you’re on where you and him would pretend to be a couple. You have to remind yourself this is actually a mission and you’re running around with your target because Wonwoo isn’t your partner.
When you’re in Plaza de Mayo, you take a step back to allow Wonwoo to purchase something to eat. It’s too cute to watch him stumble through his Spanish, constantly looking over at you as if asking for help. All you can do is smile as he mixes up hombre and hambre. The older woman putting the food together only smiles softly. There’s something incredibly cute about watching this stoic man get flushed over ordering in another language. 
The next few days follow mostly the same pattern. You wake up earlier than Wonwoo so that you can pretend to work on the mission and actually check in with Seungcheol. Wonwoo pretends that he’s still asleep sometimes. Other times, he gets up and works on his own things. It’s cute that he’ll do anything to make it seem like you have privacy. Breakfast in the room always comes next because it’s an easy way to get ready for the day. 
The days themselves are all a little bit different. You see the Piramide de Mayo, the Floralis Generica, the monuments to Juana Azurduy and General Jose de San Martin, Teatro Colon, the planetarium and several other interesting sights. The planetarium is a personal favorite of yours because it’s just kind of weird in an affectionate way. It’s hard to truly pick a favorite though because each new stop teaches you more about the local culture. It’s the kind of place that just makes you want to fall in love with it. There’s so much beauty and so much to appreciate. Each new stop also seems to involve learning something new about Wonwoo and somehow him trying his hand at Spanish again, only to fail. You’re wondering if he does it just to entertain you. 
While you’re seeing all the tourist spots, you take time to see the things the locals recommend as well. Sometimes that’s hole-in-the-wall food places or stands that someone mentions. Other times it’s a park that’s too out of the way for tourists. Even other times still, it’s a hidden access point to the beach. Thankfully, it’s still cool out and getting Wonwoo to agree to the beach isn’t difficult. You idly wonder what it would be like to try and get him to visit the beach in January when it’s the dead of summer. 
You want to try as many local dishes as you can while you’re there, too. Given his way, Wonwoo would probably eat in the hotel room just as much as out of it, but you don’t know when you’re going to get this chance again. So, even though he’s worn out from spending so much time around people, he lets you drag him out again every night. He even seems to enjoy himself.
At the start of whatever this is, it was always you asking Wonwoo all the questions and trying to volunteer as little about yourself as possible. You’re still an agent and you’re still supposed to be after him. The least you can do, while you’re totally ignoring your mission, is try to better understand Wonwoo and his motivations. Even if you don’t end up turning him in, it's an invaluable experience to get to look into the mind of a criminal. When will you get another chance like this? When will you be this close to someone to ask personal questions? No part of you even considers that he’s lying to you. You’re positive that he answers everything truthfully.
Somewhere along the line, it shifts. Maybe because you know everything you want to know about the man across from you. Or maybe because you genuinely feel comfortable about him. Either way, he’s the one that’s asking you questions now. Surprisingly, though, he doesn’t want to know anything about your work. He doesn’t seem to care about any of that. There’s a nagging thought that thinks he might just be trying to make you comfortable. You try to quickly brush it away, though, and just answer any of the personal questions he asks. Wonwoo wants to know the simple things like where you grew up, what your family was like, and what you wanted to do when you were younger. The things that allow him to really know you. It’s terrifying. 
By the time you get back to the hotel that night, you’re exhausted. It feels like it’s been a never ending span of days in the best way. You collapse on the bed without changing. All you manage to do is take off your shoes. Wonwoo leans over you and kisses you, softly at first. But, like every other kiss with him, it leaves you gasping for air after a minute.
It’s amazing how he seems to take your breath away and even more amazing how he always seems like he’s ready to tear your clothes off. You’ve never had someone like him in your life. But, that also brings you back to reality. Wonwoo asked you to give him a few days staying in his hotel room. It’s definitely been longer than that without either of you seeming to notice. There’s a level of comfort that neither of you talk about given that this all has an expiration date. And that expiration date is rapidly approaching. 
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Staying with Wonwoo turns out to be longer than either of you planned and neither of you has a complaint about it. You’ve been checking in with Seungcheol every morning and Wonwoo pretends not to listen. It’s been like living in a little bubble where reality isn’t a concern. 
That’s just the thing, though, isn’t it? This isn’t real life, not for you. This isn’t something that lasts long term or that you can even sustain. The reality is still there. Wonwoo is one of the most infamous art thieves to ever live and you work for a secret agency tasked with bringing criminals like him to justice. You’re not exactly sure what the last however many days have been. All you know is this is just a break from reality. A brief glimpse into an alternate life that can never be. It’s been amazing and something you won’t ever forget. You’re hoping that you’re both on the same page about that, at least.
“I should probably go back to my hotel today,” you say. 
Wonwoo looks up from across the room where he’s reading while you pretend to work on your case. It helps to at least log in to the system. “To get more stuff?”
“I can’t stay here forever,” you point out. 
“No, I expect at some point we’ll leave and head to the next place,” he agrees with a shrug. 
“We?” you ask, eyebrows flying up. 
“Yes, we,” he says like suddenly you’re slow on the uptake. “I’ve got a few places in mind that I’d love to take you, but it’s really up to you.” 
“Wonwoo,” you start and your heart sinks.
You are definitely not on the same page. Probably not even in the same book, if you’re honest. Everything over the past days with him has been amazing. The perfect little escape from your reality. But, that’s all it’s been: an escape. Or maybe that’s all you’ve let yourself think it was. Anything else seems like entirely too much. His face drops as he watches you.
“You’re not coming with me,” he realizes.
“I didn’t even know you would want me to!” you state, too loud for the space.
“How could you not? I’ve been telling you all the places that I wanted you to see,” he says and that hits you harder than a physical blow. He’s been giving you all the signs that this isn’t just a bubble.
“I didn’t think you were serious,” you point out.
“Clearly,” he says, voice thick with disappointment. 
“Wonwoo, come on. It’s not like I can just, what? Run away?” you say.
“Oh, no, there’s a whole life waiting for you back at your precious agency,” he says with derision. 
“It’s all I’ve ever known,” you plead.
“And I’ve shown you that there’s more to life than whatever this is for you,” he counters.
“I can’t just leave them,” you say with a shake of your head.
That seems to make Wonwoo angrier than you expect. “No, of course not. How silly of me. You have to get back to your handler that so clearly loves you.” 
“Seungcheol does not love me. We’re friends, sure, but that’s it,” you disagree.
“Let’s pretend that’s true and it’s normal for a handler to speak to you the way he does. Or that it’s normal for him to worry so much about your safety. Who are you going back to apart from him? Who’s waiting for you?” Wonwoo asks.
The questions wash over you like acid rain. Painful and harsh and unrelenting. The worst part is that he’s right. You have wondered if there are some feelings there from Seungcheol. You also don’t have anyone waiting for you. It’s really a half-life, if you’re being honest. Less than a half-life, probably. The past few days with Wonwoo are the most alive you’ve felt since you were a child, before joining the agency. 
“I can’t just…this is my job, Wonwoo. And you’re an art thief. A very famous one and…” you start.
“Have I stolen anything here?” he asks and that brings you up short.
“Well, no, of course not. You’ve been with me,” you say simply.
“And I will leave this city without stealing. I will switch careers entirely if it’s that important, though it doesn’t seem like it is since you haven’t turned me in,” he says and it’s almost like he’s talking to himself. “I’ve been all over the globe trying to feel something. Trying for anything. I started stealing because I could. I wanted to get the attention my parents never gave me. I kept going because I was looking for a challenge, which it is, at least sometimes. I was looking for someone, I think. Then, I find you and you’re everything I didn’t know to ask for. But, you’re telling me some job where you can’t even have a life is more important than this? That my job, which I’m completely willing to give up, is too much of a barrier?”
“I have a life,” you scoff.
“Really?” Wonwoo challenges and folds his arms. “When was the last time you went on a real date? Not with a target, but a real date just with someone you wanted to know? When’s the last time you let yourself just breathe and explore a city? When’s the last time you did something just because you wanted to?”
“Plenty of people are married to their jobs,” you begin.
“I thought you were brave, you know,” Wonwoo muses. “I thought you were someone who would realize how rare this is. It’s not like everyone is lucky enough to meet a person that completes them like this. I guess I was wrong. I guess all I was really good for was fucking you and that’s all it was.”
“Of course that’s not all it was,” you disagree. There are tears threatening to spill over. This isn’t at all how you imagined it going. You weren’t prepared for him to try to fight for you. “The last few days with you have been everything I never thought I’d experience. But, it hasn’t been real, Wonwoo. It can’t be real. Life doesn’t work that way.” 
“Why can’t it?” he fires at you.
“Because I don’t deserve it!” you scream, tears finally streaming down your face. “Because you don’t know my scars. You don’t know the things I’ve done. You don’t know the mistakes I’ve made. You don’t know that I have demons that are constantly chasing me.” 
“I’m a fucking criminal,” he points out. “Who am I to judge?”
“Exactly,” you agree but rush to finish your thought before Wonwoo can interject. “You don’t…question the decisions you’ve made. You stand on everything you’ve done. But, you also do so much good with charities and helping students and just giving back. Plus, I’ve looked at your crimes. You only ever stole from the rich to sell to other rich people.”
“Yet you still were sent to chase me,” he points out. 
“Yeah, who do you think pays our salaries?” you ask flatly. “My point is that…I don’t know. I’m standing here across from you and I feel like I’m the infinitely worse person in this situation.” 
“It really can’t be that bad,” he reasons.
“I’ve taken lives, Wonwoo. More than I can count. And without even questioning if our reasoning was solid for taking them out. I’ve used my body in ways that I may never recover from, thinking it was my choice at the time. I’ve done what I was told and I’ve been good at it. Too good, maybe,” you say. You’re talking to yourself more than him at this point. “I’m the one they send when they don’t want a record. I’m the one they send when nobody else can do it. I’ve spent the last 10 years of my life training and doing what I was told. It’s given me scars that you can’t see and won’t ever heal. All I know is this. They’re not just going to let me go. And even if they did, you don’t deserve all the baggage that I come with. You’re not a bad guy.”
“And you think you are? A bad guy?” he asks.
“I know I am,” you say.
“That’s all you are if that’s all you see, but I see so much more,” he argues. 
“I still can’t just ask them to walk away,” you press.
“I wasn’t suggesting that you ask,” he says. “You deserve a chance to start fresh. To see what you can be without the weight of the world hanging over your head.”
“I don’t deserve anything more than what I have now,” you disagree.
“What about love? Do you deserve that?” he asks, changing directions.
“I don’t know,” you admit.
“And me? Do I deserve love?” he asks.
“Yes, without question,” you answer immediately.
“So give me the chance to experience love,” he begs. “I never thought I’d love anyone and I’ve never taken this kind of chance on anyone. But, I’m asking you for a chance. Just one more.” 
There’s so much tension in the air between you. So many things still left unsaid and so much emotion. The air between you and him seems to crackle. A storm brews behind his eyes as he waits for you to answer him. It seems insane to think that he could feel that for you after such a short time. But, really, what do you know? You have unquestionably never been in love before, not really. There’s never been the time or space for it in your line of work. Relationships never seem to get deeper because you’re always keeping secrets. Can’t ever tell them what you really do for work. And then there’s Wonwoo. He knows so much about you already and even though it’s barely scratched the surface, it’s still more honest than you’ve ever been. He doesn’t want to run away and that scares you more than any mission you’ve ever had.
It’s just…it’s too much to decide now. You spend your whole life having to make split second decisions, yet can’t about this. Don’t have the data that you have on missions. Don’t know the pros and cons. It’s uncharted territory. It’s scary in a way you’ve never experienced. You’ve stared down the barrel of too many guns and this still feels infinitely more terrifying. Maybe he can love you after such a short amount of time because he seems to realize what you’re going to say before you say it. 
“Don’t,” he says softly when you open your mouth. “I’m going to leave the day after tomorrow. I’m going to set the flight to leave at 1 in the afternoon. That gives you time to change your mind.”
“And if I don’t reach you before then?” you ask softly.
“Don’t ever expect to find me again,” he says with a finality that surprises you. When you meet his gaze, it’s harder than you’re expecting. “I really care about you and I’d love you to come with me. But I know how stubborn you are. It’s part of why I love you so much. So I’m leaving my heart open until the day after tomorrow. Then it’s over.”
“You’re an amazing person, Wonwoo,” you say and press a kiss to his cheek. “You’ve challenged a lot of my ideas about right and wrong. I’ll never forget that.” 
“I’m not accepting this as goodbye. I’ll still hope to see you before I leave,” he says and presses the gentlest kiss to your forehead. 
Your throat is too tight to say anything in response to that. All you can do is gather up your things and head out of the hotel room. Everything in your body feels tired from the unexpected heaviness of the conversation. It hurts to see Wonwoo looking so hurt. As crazy as it sounds, you do mean that he deserves the absolute best. You also meant it that made you rethink a lot of your preconceived notions. You actually questioned things for the first time in your adult life. Despite all of that, you still walk right out of the hotel room.
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You spend nearly every minute after walking out of Wonwoo’s hotel room considering his offer. Go as far as scheduling your flight out of Buenos Aires for the same time as his. Genuinely, you’re not sure what you want to do. At least Seungcheol understood failing the mission. Somehow, he still sees it as a win that nothing was stolen from anywhere in the city while you were there. He assumes that your presence somehow spooked the notorious art thief. Thankfully he doesn’t realize just how right he is. 
The biggest surprise is that Chan, the slightly overeager agent from the flight down, will be meeting you when you get on the plane. He’s only wrapping up a second mission that popped up in the area. The Agency is sending him along so that you can debrief about your actual mission and start looping him in going forward. Apparently, as great as you are and as (almost) perfect as your record is, the agency still wants to have someone for you to work with when you need them. Since that can’t be Seungcheol, he’s recommending a promising younger agent. This apparently also includes you being the one to tell him all of this yourself. 
The airport is busy when you get there, an unsurprising side effect of planning flights during the afternoon. There’s also the fact that private planes have to leave from the international airport, which is always somewhat packed. Getting through customs and security is surprisingly smooth and soon you’re going to have to face your literal crossroads. 
In one direction is the familiar. Nothing about working for The Agency is easy. There’s a sense of routine to it, though. A sense of generally knowing what your days or weeks or even months will look like. You know how to make coffee in the shitty break room when you’re actually on site (a rarity). You know how to play nice with the other agents. You know how all the tech works. And you’re good at the missions themselves. That’s just to say you don’t have to learn anything new. You’re lucky enough to have a semi-boss that you get along with. There’s a sense of routine to everything from mission briefings to flights to the missions themselves. There’s comfort in knowing you don’t really have to make the decisions. Sure, you have to figure out which course to take on the ground with a mission. But, that usually only means picking option A or B. All of the possible courses of action come in the briefing. You just have to evaluate the factors and figure out which pre-determined option fits best. It’s easy. As fucked up as it might be to admit, you like doing something that you know you’re good at. It’s nice to get praised for constantly succeeding. It’s the easy decision.
And in the other direction…well, it’s the unknown. Being with Wonwoo has been nothing short of the best feeling of your life. The most alive you’ve ever felt. It’s kind of crazy but part of you thinks you may love him. Can see how the whole future plays out, even if it’s not crystal clear. The two of you could start over somewhere new where he doesn’t have to steal art and you don’t have to chase criminals with questionable methods. Both of you have the funds (even if he’s better set up) to start over. Both of you clearly have the skills to disappear into the wind, too. It’s not like your legal name exists anywhere anymore. Very few people even know it, not that you would go back to it. 
It’s easy to get lost in the daydream. As much as you love the sun of Buenos Aires, you can’t imagine Wonwoo in a place like that during the actual summer. Everything about him makes you think of somewhere cooler, somewhere that you’re not constantly sweating. That would let you take breaks to sunnier weather. Places where you could soak up the sun while he took refuge under an umbrella, watching you with all the affection in the world. Actually, you can picture visiting a lot of places with him. He would be the perfect travel partner to see all the beautiful corners of the world that you’ve never been able to appreciate. It’s like going somewhere for a business trip. You’re there working, not to appreciate everything around you. 
There’s something kind of poetic about being at an airport as an actual crossroads in your life. It’s like you can get on a plane going anywhere. Quite literally, since you’re not sure where Wonwoo’s plane is going. Not that it really matters. If that’s the path you pick, then it’s for him rather than the destination. 
The only question left is whether you’re ready to leave your entire life behind. Are you ready to say goodbye to the agency that saved you? Are you ready to cut yourself off from the few people who actually know you and accept you as you are? Can you live without having any closure on that part of your life? Would you feel guilty that Seungcheol would be left with a million questions about what happened to you? Or would it hurt you to know that he would blame himself for your disappearance somehow? Then again, maybe he would know, on some level, that you just finally reached the point of needing to walk away. That’s something you and him have talked about before, in the early hours of the morning after too much to drink. What would you do if you could walk away from this life? What would life after The Agency look like? 
With a deep breath, you pick your path and you don’t look back. That’s the only way you know you’ll have the strength in your decision. 
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i hope you all enjoyed this as much as i enjoyed writing it! please reblog or comment and let me know 💕
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luviestarz · 1 year ago
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lee haechan fic recs!
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❤︎ I LIKE YOU (I DO) (L.DH) - @domjaehyun (stoner!haechan just wants you to know how much he likes you.)
❤︎ paperclip - @smileysuh (yandere, ex bf! hyuck)
❤︎ My Boy. - @prodbymaui (A series of failed relationships and you were this near of giving up on love. But then here comes little Donghyuck and his persistence. Maybe-- he was the one fated to you, after all.)
❤︎ kiss it better - @yeow6n (haechan gets hurt but you know that with him it’s not going to be as simple as putting a band-aid on it)
❤︎ sugar, butter, & the royal crown - L.DH - @haechwrites (prince donghyuck only has one princess on his mind, but she's not actually a princess. she's just the royal baker's granddaughter.)
❤︎ bus stop - @ooshu (haechan rides the bus. you hop on the same ride. minutes later, you two were a couple. he never questioned why.)
❤︎ strawberries & cigarettes - @hyudior (the art school's play is in two days and you're running out of time to put everything together since your known enemy lee donghyuck decided that the rehearsal day was the perfect day to release a launch party for his new album.)
❤︎ >> take my breath - @hyuckwrlds
❤︎ moles ♡‧₊˚ lee haechan - @sleeping-sirens (you read something on the internet that made you feel jealous of a person you didn’t even know but haechan knows just how to reassure you.)
❤︎ haechan — gold-skinned, eager baby - @hyuckmov (he used to be able to hide it. he used to be fine with glancing at you, habitually flicking his eyes to your chest when you would walk into the room or snuggle up to him. but now he’s totally fucked, because he thinks he’s developed some sort of addiction.)
❤︎ eyes tell - @tonicandjins (donghyuck has been trying to confess his feelings to you. third time's the charm, he thinks.)
❤︎ going below zero | l.dh - @cherryeoniis (Considering how much Haechan makes it his personal mission to antagonize you at work, it seems like a rather cruel twist of fate that the both of you have been side by side since middle school, the only consolation being that his office is a different floor from yours. But if there’s a saying about how distance makes the heart grow fonder, your attitude with him might just be the opposite, and it’ll take a family ski holiday to find out.)
❤︎ take my breath. - @sixzeroes (lee donghyuck did not believe in ‘love at first sight.’ key word: did. he does now, but only because you happened to fall into his arms on the icy road in the narrow streets. you’re going to render him breathless from the countless times your smile takes his breath away.)
❤︎ ice cream thief [ l.dh ] - @tddyhyck (someone has been eating haechan's favorite ice cream so he decides to put a hidden camera in the kitchen and living room thinking it's a shared space it shouldn't invade anyone's privacy... right?)
❤︎ tease | lee haechan - @hyuckiefluff (Playing spin the bottle definitely wasn't what you had envisioned for your first college party. And the last person you expected to see was Lee Haechan. But life has a funny way of throwing surprises at you, and this time it came in the form of the bottle landing on some drunk dude who dared you to kiss Haechan.)
❤︎ 𝟏𝟎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ¹⁸⁺ - @goldyeokki (you and lee donghyuck both get along like oil and water. if it were up to you, you would be going about your days without even breathing in his direction. unfortunately you're in the same friend group and you have to tolerate each other. as handsome or attractive as people claim him to be, you hate his guts. there's so many reasons why you hate him, so why do you get butterflies in your stomach when he's near?)
❤︎ high (with my lover) [m] – l.dh - @yeonghosins (y/n smokes up with donghyuck for the first time)
❤︎ what the puck! - @choerrypuffs (you hit the university’s star hockey player with your car. shenanigans (and maybe even a little romance) ensue.)
❤︎ double take | l.dh - @cherryeoniis (friends to lovers, highschool au, slowburn, fluff, angst)
❤︎ Your Red Lipstick || L.DH - @ihaechans (Kisses, kisses, kisses. That’s all your boyfriend wants. When you refuse to give him the one thing he craves, he won’t leave you alone, begging and begging until you give in.)
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toji-bunny-girl · 11 months ago
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𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐇’𝐒 𝐁!𝐓𝐂𝐇
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CHARACTERS— Grinch!Toji Fushiguro x sexy goddess goofy fem!reader SUMMARY— The thief of Christmas joy, the thief of children's gifts, and this time, the thief of your boyfriend's slutty surprise. WORD COUNT— 3k+ CONTENT WARNING— slight angst, swearing, goofiness, smut, porn with plot, adultery, bondage, size difference, orgasm denial, NTR, spanking, fingering, blowjob, oral sex, no protection, noncon A/N— I wanna get fucked dumb by Toji too (hope yall don’t notice the obvious bias in smut between this and the other two Kinkmas fics 🤭 this man just makes me 100000x hornier)
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“You sure you can breathe in there?” Miya questioned your sanity, a frown etched upon her face as she stared at the way you shifted on your knees, tied up with red ropes in a Santa lingerie.
“I mean, there’s a few small holes I made at the back,” you pointed with your eyes, an awkward laugh skipping out of your throat.
“You’re fucking insane, (Y/N),” your best friend sighed, shutting her eyes to take a rest from your ridiculous sight. “All this for what? You’re not even sure if Mr. Vanilla likes kinky aah shit like this.”
“Never back down never what…” you softly mumbled, trying to keep yourself focused on what you’ve prepared for your boyfriend this Christmas. He’d return home from work to find a giant ribboned box on his bed. Inside would be you, all tied up in your new erotic red lingerie.
You’ve managed to convince yourself that this was all a wonderful erotic surprise for Seiji. When in reality it was nothing but a catalyst to excite your sexual relationship with him. The thing is—your boyfriend is the most vanilla partner you’d ever have, while without his knowledge; you were the kinkiest slut your friends had ever known.
Throughout your 9 months of dating, sex was infrequent and soft. To put things truthfully, the act with your boyfriend is boring. You’ve tried encouraging him to be more experimental with you—to lightly chock you or even slap your ass when he’s fucking you. But he just couldn’t bring himself to do it, and maybe that’s part of the reason you fell for him.
He’s gentle and kind, ever so careful to handle you like you’re a fragile piece of art. Seiji was nothing like your past lovers, with him you learned true romance. With the price of your sexual satisfaction and ardour.
So this Christmas, you thought of a plan to surprise him—his sexy girlfriend all tied up for him to use however he wanted. It’s every man’s dream come true to have a fervid hottie on their bed. But when it comes to Seiji, you could never be sure of it; he’s different than the others but he’s your Seiji.
“What’s the time now,” you raised your eyebrows as Miya peeked at her phone screen.
“6:56.”
“How’s my makeup? How’s my hair?” you dubiously asked, needing everything to be perfect as if you had just popped out of a Playboy magazine.
“Very sexy,” Miya assured under her breath as she brushed a wild strand of hair away from your face. Her eyes scanned your face to spot any smudged makeup, “As always, so pretty.”
“Thank you so much, Miya. Once Seiji fucked the shit out of me and get me pregnant—I’m naming one of my kids after you,” you frivolously said, leaving the girl chuckling at your words.
“Alright, I have to leave before Vanilla Man comes back,” she checked the time once more before grabbing the lid of the giant box. “But I gotta give it to you, this shit is low-key weird but original.”
“Thanks for your compliment,” you grinned at your friend, before feeling the light over your head gone and replaced by darkness.
“Bye, (Y/N). Don’t die in there!” Miya’s voice muffled through the cardboard as she tapped the box goodbye. Silence ensued and soon, you heard the front door slam close.
Seiji had better not be home late if he didn’t want his prurient surprise to turn into a horror documentary on YouTube.
Your joints were starting to ache within a minute of waiting, the kneeling position you chose obviously backfired. Sure, the pose is cute and all—but is it worth the growing pain in your knees? If you’re getting absolutely ravished by tonight; then yes.
By the next few minutes, you began to lament about the choices you had made. Your knees hurt so bad it felt like someone was flaying their whip onto your skin, and you were busy chanting your mantra just to stop your tears from flowing out and ruining your hours-spent makeup.
Never back down never what…?
“Fuck it,” you cried, leaning your weight sideways against the cardboard just to lessen the burden on your joints. But as much as you regretted everything, the box toppled to the side along with your body. “Shit! Oh my god, what the fuck do I do?! Help!”
You tried to wriggle yourself out of the giant box but with your limbs bounded tight, you could do nothing but writhe like a worm. You must’ve looked like a clown.
Then, you heard it. The soft shutting of the door and the floorboard slightly creaked with footsteps. Though, each stride seemed to be a thump—were Seiji’s feet ever so heavy?
But you don’t ruminate over that, you have a bigger problem on your hands right then. Your boyfriend was going to walk in on you awkwardly lying on your side, what seemed to be a lewd surprise became a scene of embarrassment; you looked as if you were kidnapped and tied up, and it wasn’t in any sensual form you desired.
The bedroom door creaked open and your pulse began thumping fast in your ears. You could feel your face scorching into scarlet red, and you squeezed your lips shut, trying not to make a sound. Perhaps you were drunk off the hot embarrassment, you thought perhaps if you were silent enough, he wouldn’t notice the giant Christmas-themed box sitting in the middle of his bed, right?
Then you felt yourself being hoisted up into the air, and confusion struck your being. What was Seiji doing? Did he know about you hiding inside the box? Now was he fooling around with you?
“Seiji…?” you softly mumbled, and you were met with long silence as a reply. What exactly was going on? Feeling yourself put down on the wooden floor, you heard shuffling before you were propelled backwards from a harsh kick. “Hey!”
This wasn’t Seiji. Never was he one to ever act so rashly upon anyone or anything. And your skin began to crawl with a newfound fear. If a burglar were to find you helpless and unable to defend yourself…you were lucid with what could happen to you.
Fuck, man. You internally cursed, God was obviously making fun of your dumb little idea. Fuck the originality, you wanted out more than anything.
“One of ya’ fairies stuck in there?” the stranger spoke gravelly, his voice gruff like the rough bark of trees. Then he let out a deep laugh, slamming a palm atop the box. “You guys should start tellin’ Santa he can’t be throwin’ all the hard jobs to the tiny elves and fairies.”
The lid of the box lifted open and you squeezed your eyes shut from the sudden prickling exposure of bright rays. Slowly, your sight adjusted to the light and you peeked your eyelids open to look at the intruder.
A Christmas suit, and a marked face of animosity—the male squatted over your tied form with a look of uncongenial nonchalance. “Not a fairy…nor an elf. A human?”
“No shit, you crazy bitch. My boyfriend’s coming back any second now, and he’d beat the shit out of you!” you tried to daunt the stranger, though with a single look at him—you knew it was improbable that Seiji could take on this guy.
“You can see me?” he sounded amused, hands slightly waving around his sides.
“What do you mean ‘I can see you’? You’re a ghost or something?”
“Not quite,” he sighed, and you could smell burnt tobacco from his breath. “You ever heard of the Grinch?”
“Yeah…?”
“Well, turns out Christmas isn’t fake,” you stared as he gave you a slight smirk, the dark scar down his lips rising.
“And you’re telling me you’re ‘grinch’?” your eyes narrowed, scepticism in your features.
“Smart girl.”
“When really, you’re breaking into people’s houses and trying to convince them you’re a Christmas character whenever you’re caught red-handed.”
“Mm, yer’ ain’t wrong,” his eyes wandered to the side.
“That makes you a burglar, man.”
“One that no one can see… except for you’,” his eyebrows drew closer into a frown. “How odd.” His features shifted all of a sudden, and he relaxed into a sigh. “Fairy dust?”
“What?”
“This,” he pointed at the glitter on your eyelids.
“Oh, this? I found them on my dressing table so I thought why not,” you shrugged, rendering the hulking male to crack into a chuckle of disbelief.
“These are fairy dusts. The fairies leave them the night before Christmas to spread joy and wonders to people, ya’ get me? Anyone who touches ‘em would be able to see us,” he spoke apathetically. “And my job…” his hand reached out towards you, thumb swiping over your eyelid, “is to steal these.”
“My makeup!” you shouted, trying to wriggle yourself away from him. “I spent 2 hours doing them!”
“Why would ‘cha put random glitter on yer’ eyes anyway,” he retorted, grabbing your much smaller face with his large hand and using the other to wipe the fairy dust off of your skin.
“I hate you, bitch!”
“The name’s Toji, sweetheart,” he purred, the lowest cadence of his voice scratching the itch in your eardrums. Your eyebrows knitted into a glare, trying to mask the dark heat on your cheeks with that lour look of yours.
“You’ve got your stupid ‘fairy dust’ now. Happy?”
“Nope.”
“What more do you want?!”
“I haven’t picked a present to steal yet…” something in his eyes coruscate, a sharp ray of emerald green hared by in volant flash. In that moment, you could feel something stormy, so wild and barbaric in him—something you’ve missed since Seiji.
“I-I’ve got nothing here,” you huffed, stammering over your words as you shifted your gaze away.
“Ain’t you one?” his eyes raked over your figure, cleavage pushed up for view, and soft thighs presented like a toy. You felt naked underneath him; and for for some reason your nipples began to perk against the thin fabric of the scarlet red lingerie, panties beginning to dampen with arousal.
This man looked like a good fuck—and boy did your body needed one. Your lips paused open to say something, but you were simply cut off by a sudden shock when you felt your body lifted into the air once more. Toji was carrying all your weight with a hefty arm, pulling you out of the box and settling you onto the floor.
“Gee, thanks. Shit was starting to feel claustrophobic,” you never knew you were holding so much breath in when the male began to untie the ropes that held you. To be more specific, the ropes around your body except your hands. “Think you missed a spot, buddy.”
“Didn’t miss it,” he stood, watching as your legs wearily crumbled onto the ground. “Never intended to free ya’.”
You raised a brow, tilting your head upwards to look at him. And now from your height, you’d never imagine the male to be this huge. Even through his clothes, you could visibly spot the bulking muscles underneath, and the undeniable bulge in his pants.
Toji let out a low chuckle when he caught your eyes, showing the whites of your orbs as you stared; your tongue wet from salivating what could be under those stupid Christmas pants, a quiet gulp as your clit throbbed.
“Like what ‘cha lookin’ at?” his hot palm rested over your head, slightly messing up your hair but you couldn't care less anymore. His thumb tucked down all the restraint over his cock, and the sight of it made your breath hitched.
Dark tip with a prominent vein running down the bottom of his shaft, your lips almost instinctively opened to fit what you could into your mouth.
“Good girl,” he grinned, feeling the way your saliva coat his cock, tongue flickering and flattening against his throbbing tip. You gently stuffed your mouth with his member, before hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head around his length.
Toji sharply sucked the air through his teeth, one hand fisting your hair and the other pumping the part of his shaft where you couldn’t reach.
“Such a fuckin’ slut,” he groaned under his breath, peering down at the way your eyes closed shut in silent contentment, slowly inching more of him through your lips until his tip was bumping against the wall of your throat.
You threw your head back after gagging a while on his cock, a string of saliva connecting his member with your tongue. Your jaw was getting sore and you had to take a quick breather until you were forced down again by Toji’s palm.
“Didn’t say you could stop,” he spat, thrusting his hips forward and stuffing your throat full of him. He was so big, too much to handle and tears began to well around your eyes; yet you’re moaning to the thought of his size, how it’ll just reach perfectly deep in your hole.
“Mmhp!” you whined, muffled by his member but Toji didn’t pause until after a few long, deep pushes into your swollen throat. Stuffing your mouth full of his cum, leaking out from the edges of your aching lips.
You spat his semen onto the ground before he grabbed you up onto the bed, spreading your thighs open with his breath still unstable from his previous ejaculation. “Fuckin’ whore,” he laughed, a thick thumb rubbing over your pulsing panty-covered clit. “Suckin’ dick got ‘cha wet?”
“Speak for yourself,” you breathed, “staring at my body got you hard?”
“How ‘bout you fill that mouth with my name instead of yer’ smart words?” his eyes were like green gems under shades; dark, sensual emerald. Slipping your panty off, Toji clicked his tongue when his eyes settled upon your glisteningly wet pussy, a smirk riding the edge of his mouth up.
You let in a sharp inhale when he stuffed two thick fingers into your cunt, your essence already coating his digits within a few pumps, the calloused skin of his fingers spurring on tingles in your pussy walls. He was a maven with his hands, fingers ably searching for the spongey spot inside of you, long enough to reach where you couldn’t—nor Seiji.
Seiji. Your mind began to plague with guilt for your poor boyfriend, you didn’t want to do him wrong but fuck—you just couldn’t stop when Toji had your sweet spot; rubbing over your clenching walls with a thumb busy swiping over your swollen clit.
Your pussy tightened around his digits as you cried for release, moans and whines filled the room as you buckled your hips. But as much as you wanted it, Toji refused to lead you through; a raffish smirk on his face as you swore at him.
“I was about to cum, asshole!” you gasped, visibly annoyed with the frown on your face. You raised a leg to facetiously kick him, but he caught your ankle in his grasp before dragging your body closer to him.
“Didn’t catch ‘cha beggin’,” a deep chuckle rumbled out of his lungs as his hands trailed up your thighs.
“I don’t beg for nothing,” you tried to play bratty.
“Oh, yea?” your body jumped up when he slapped the tip of heavy cock against your clit, your eyes seemingly dripping with desperation over your mask of a twisted frown. You wanted him inside of you so bad, and he could see it right through you.
Slipping a few inches his member into your folds, you could feel your cunt burn from the stretch, gripping onto his girth as he slowly forced himself in.
“Shit—” Toji swore under his breath, watching the way your pussy sucked him in, needy for him to fill your insides. You let out an exhale when his cock brushed over your sweet spots, your abdomen tingling when he reached deep.
He placed his arms on both sides of your head, hovering over your body with his, hips thrusting in and out of you. You could feel his warmth radiating towards yours, heating up your cheeks as you blinked up at him. His head dipped down to kiss you, sucking on your lips before sinking his teeth down, a hand slipping up to rest on your throat.
Your face began to turn red as he tightened his grip on your neck, his pace starting to roughen, the bed frame hitting against the wall so hard you doubted it wouldn't leave a mark. Your head was starting to get light, eyes blanking out with each blink and you could see stars popping in your sight.
You clenched your teeth as you shut your eyes, focusing on the pleasure building up in your womb, hugging Toji close with your thighs.
Just a little more, you thought as you peered down at where the two of you connected, his cock disappearing down your pussy and slipping out. Instead of filling your cunt with his length again, he let his hands hugged his girth, jerking himself off in front of you.
“Haah—fuck!” you swore, biting down your lower lip. “I was close, again!”
“What d’ya say?”
“Need your cock, please?” you cried, tired of the second orgasm he refused for you, and you were met with Toji manhandling you onto your knees, glistening cunt for his view as he stuffed a finger into your folds, teasing you with light stimulation.
That was until your phone buzzed with a new notification from your boyfriend, panic set in your being as you stared at your phone.
Sorry I’ll be a little late home, I had a quick meeting with the team :/ Don’t worry tho I just got out of the station. On the way home rn :) Miss you! 
“W-Wait! My boyfriend’s coming back…!” you tried to crawl away from him, but it was all in obvious futility as he held your hips, sinking his throbbing cock into your needy pussy.
“Shut yer’ mouth up and cum for me. Would ‘cha, pretty girl?” he groaned into your ear, his fingers sunk into your cheeks as he gripped onto your face, hips fucking deep into your sloppy cunt and fat tip kissing your cervix.
Your nerves were dancing upon fire, and you could do nothing but roll your eyes to the back of your head, your lips pausing open in pleasure as you let out croaked moans. Toji’s hips were positioning harder in and out of your sore pussy, his fingers swiping fast against your clit.
He could feel your walls clenching tighter than ever around him, and he shoved your head into the bedsheets to muffle out your screams, your bounded hands fighting against the restraints, and your back arching down towards the bed.
With his cock brushing over your G-spot and hitting your cervix for the nth time, your essence came squirting out of your core. You were silent for a second, sent to a heaven of pure ecstasy and your body twitched in pleasure you had never felt before.
Toji was still busy chasing his own high, simply using you as a fucktoy to be roughened up however he wanted—disregarding your overstimulated cunt and continuing to shove his cock into you. You could hear his groans starting to grow louder, feel his hips fastened and soon, warm spurts of thick cum filled your womb.
Your thighs shook in overstimulation as your whole weight fell onto the bed; sweat sticking your lingerie onto your skin and the bedsheets dirtied with your makeup. Toji had ruined you as he fucked, yet you’ve never found such contentment in sex.
“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he whispered, pasting a kiss onto your drooling lips, watching in satisfaction as your eyes blanked out from the fucking. “Tell yer’ lil’ boyfriend I said welcome.”
“(Y/N), I’m home!”
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mountainsandmayhem · 6 months ago
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Tess's Treasures
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18+, MDNI
Pairing: Tess x Joel x OC!Female x Female!Reader Summary: After perfecting the art of pickpocketing, you’re invited to join Tess’s Treasures. They’re infamous around the QZ and the initiation process is not what you expect, but exactly what you need. CW: If you’re not into foursomes/bi girl shit then you are in the wrong place. MFFF, bisexual females, fingering, masturbating, oral, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation kink. Unprotected p in v. Overstim and squirting. Please read this at your discretion. If this isn’t for you, that’s perfectly fine. AN: You can thank @mermaidgirl30 and @littlevenicebitch69 for being good little girls and filling my mind with depraved and twisted thoughts. This fic has truly been a labour of love, taking me almost 6 weeks to put together and edit. I'm not the least bit sorry about the word count, grab a snack, probably some electrolytes and maybe some spare batteries lol. Special shoutouts to @pedritoferg for their kind words when my imposter syndrome had the best of me. As always, dividers and support banners by @saradika-graphics. Friendly reminder that I'm phasing out my tag list, follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates for new fics.
Word Count: 9005
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Becoming one of Tess’s Treasures seemed like a fallacy, a pipe dream. A fairytale life only reserved for the most vicious females that prowl the shady streets of the Boston QZ, and you aren’t a killer. A thief, yes; but not a killer. Truthfully, you weren’t even sure if the organization existed. Sure, Tess was a real person, but did she actually have a horde of women she called her Treasures? 
She was infamous in the seedy underbelly of Boston, her and her henchman Joel. Granted, no one ever seemed to see Joel, unless he was about to kill you. And sometimes not even then, he was often hiding in the shadows, shadows darker than the demons that allegedly haunted him.
Outbreak day happened when you were just little, you don’t remember much of the journey from your old hometown to Boston. Everyone here is poor, doing what they can to get credits to buy basic human needs; making trades and swaps were what most people did. You, however, were much more clever. After discovering a book detailing the art of sleight of hand you started practicing, and now you can take anything, right in front of someone's eyes, without them noticing. 
Or so you thought. After stealing a pistol from a FEDRA officer and replacing it with a banana, all while having a conversation with him in broad daylight, Tess approaches you.
“Come to my apartment next week. I wanna see if you have what it takes. Mum’s the word.” It’s a hushed whisper as she passes you, slipping a small card in your back pocket as she goes. 
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You follow the cards' instructions, arriving at the exact time, going up to the top floor and then doing two quick, sharp knocks on the worn out door.
“Enter,” Tess says from inside. The door creaks on your way in. It’s the hottest day Boston has seen in years, and even in your small sundress, the room is stifling hot. The air is thick with the smell of gunpowder and something else that you can’t quite put your finger on. There’s a fan oscillating in the corner, the paint chipped off the cage that protects the blades. As it blows warm air past you, you realize that the other smell is sex. 
Tess is sitting on the couch to the right of the door, two mismatched wooden kitchen chairs in front of her. Straight ahead from the door is a small kitchen, and to the back left of the studio style apartment is the bed. Unmade, sheets tousled like someone just woke up, but based on the heady taste of the air in the room, the messy sheets are definitely from two people rolling around in them.
“Come sit,” Tess says firmly. You click the door shut behind you and head to the empty chair that’s waiting for you. The other chair is occupied by a small brunette woman. She has long slender limbs and doesn’t look like someone who would hang out with raiders, poachers and drug runners. Her hands are folded in her lap, ankles crossed under the chair. She doesn’t look over at you.
Tess leans forward, spreading her denim clad legs wide and resting her elbows on her knees. “Do you two know who I am?”
You both nod slowly. Up close, Tess is terrifying. She could have you killed with just a snap of her fingers, and Joel would do it however she wanted. From what you’ve heard, very slowly was her favourite way to have people eliminated from this earth. Quick deaths weren’t something she enjoyed when someone had fucked her over. 
“Speak!” she commands. The brunette jumps and even though you’ve mastered the art of pushing your fears down and masking your emotions, a small butterfly flaps its wings behind your navel. 
“Yes,” you say hoarsely as a meek ‘yes ma’am’ sounds beside you.
“Good. So then you know the….perks of being one of my Treasures,” Tess’s eyes twinkle as she says perks like she knows something you don’t. Like it’s more than the better living arrangements, food and medical care. Better than a sense of family and belonging.
She continues, “I’ve seen both of you at work. You,” her steel grey eyes are laser focused on yours, “With your quick hands, and you,” she adjusts her attention to the petite woman beside you, “With your ability to talk a man into almost anything. Before you can officially call yourself my Treasures, there’s a small matter of your…” Her voice trails, mouth ticking up on one side as she cocks her head and drags her eyes across both of your bodies.
“Well, your initiation.” She leans back onto the couch, knees falling wider. One arm drapes across the back, the worn cushion deflating slightly. The other rests on her thick, toned thigh. “I take care of my girls, but they need to show me that they can listen.”
The air seems thicker, and harder to fill your lungs with. Every move of her eyes is suggestive. Is she saying what you think she’s saying? You feel yourself begin to soak through your panties at the possibility of getting to fuck.
You aren’t left wondering for long as she points a long finger at the girl beside you, “Stand up, take off your clothes.”
“W-what?” the girl sputters. 
“I said to stand up and take off your fucking clothes,” the words almost seem to burn as she repeats herself. 
The girl stands so quickly that the chair falls, making a loud crash against the worn hardwood flooring. She stares at Tess for a moment, unsure if she should pick up the chair before she decides against it and pulls her blue cotton baby tee off, revealing a lacy white bra underneath. 
“That’s it,” Tess groans. “Take off those little shorts next.”
With shaky hands she moves to the button fly, each drag of the metal on denim seems to echo in the silent room. Tess licks her lips as she slides her shorts down her legs and kicks them to the side. “Come here,” Tess says, her voice already husky and deep. The woman walks over to Tess, stopping between her spread legs. Tess’s strong fingers grip the girl's hips and she gasps. “Turn around,” she urges, dragging her fingers along her hips as the mystery girl spins.
“What’s your name?” Tess asks. The girl's bright green eyes land on you and you see her breath hitch in her slender throat. She’s petite, probably a few inches shorter than you and at least a foot shorter than Tess. You’ve always been attracted to both men and women and there’s no denying that this little stranger is absolutely stunning. 
“Lydia,” she croaks.
“Are you nervous, Lydia?” Tess asks, cupping the globes of her ass in her hands, kneading and squeezing. Spreading them gently, exploring what she’s about to claim as hers. 
She nods her head and lets out a shaky moan of agreement.
“Go pick up your chair and sit down, Lydia.” Tess swats her bum as she walks away and Lydia yelps quietly.
Tess’s eyes now come to you. Staring straight into your soul. I’m sure if she could, her eyes would incinerate your clothes right off of you. It’s intoxicating. You, unlike Lydia, are not nervous. Not in the slightest. If anything, Tess’s attention on you only makes you wetter. Your panties are practically soaked through already. “And you, my little thief. What’s your name?”
You say your name confidently and squeeze your thighs together, trying to ease some of the ache that Tess’s newfound attention is bringing to the apex of your thighs.
Tess whispers your name back at you and it sends a shiver down your spine. She continues, “Get on your hands and knees and crawl to me.”
Lydia swallows loudly beside you as you drop to the floor, crawling seductively to Tess, head held high. The worn hardwood planks creak under your weight. Even the floor is warm and sticky from the weather. You make it to her, sitting back on your heels like the good little girl you are. She leans forward and tugs on the hem of your dress and her syrupy voice says, “Arms up”. You lift your ass slightly and she slips your dress up and over your head. It was too hot for a bra today so you’re left in just a lacy pink thong.
“Mmmm, look at those pretty tits,” Tess hums, her fingers gliding along the plush soft skin of your breasts before ghosting over your nipples making the arm whoosh from your lungs. “You like that? Me touching your nipples.”
You breathe out a yes, eyes shutting as she pinches your pebbled buds roughly. “Oh god, yes.”
The old worn couch groans as Tess sits back, “Go take her bra and panties off.”
You climb to your feet and walk over to Lydia, holding out a hand and helping her stand. You move behind her and trail your fingers down the soft skin of her spinal column before popping the clasp of her bra. Lydia slides it off her body, arms crossing to block her now exposed breasts. Goosebumps rise across her from head to toe. You shush her and rub up and down her arms. Lydia relaxes under your touch and she drops her arms, Tess nods at you once, a silent encouragement to continue. You get down on your knees, hooking your index fingers in the waistband of her panties and sliding them down. Her round ass is in your face, she smells like fresh linen and rain. You fight the urge to kiss the sensitive little spot right where her ass crack starts.
“So fucking beautiful. Sit back down, Lydia.” Tess says and you want to cry out in protest. Her body is so enticing, soft and warm. She focuses back on you and says, “Stand in front of Lydia so she can take your panties off.”
You stand gracefully, biting your bottom lip as you maneuver yourself in front of Lydia. “Spread your legs,” you whisper, determined to help her so you can put on the best show for Tess. Lydia parts her knees and you twirl to face Tess, gathering your hair in one hand as Lydia slides your soaked panties down your legs. You kick them to the side and seductively drop your hair, smiling sweetly at Tess.
“Sit,” Tess barks. Lydia gasps behind you, but you like this; being told what to do. Commanded. Used. Tess continues after you sit, “I want you both to touch yourselves. Show me how you like it, but don’t come. You haven’t earned that yet. Understood?”
“Yes ma’am,” Lydia says, looking down at her hands. You nod eagerly, already sliding your ass to the edge of the chair and spreading your legs wide for her. Tess stares at your glistening core hungrily, leaning forward again to rest her muscular forearms on her knees. Her hair falls forward and frames her face. Her expression is hard, like you don’t want to disobey her in these moments. Brows are slightly knit together, lips in a thin line. She looks beautiful and dangerous, but as you bring your pointer and ring fingers to your entrance she softens a little, cocking her head to the side slightly. 
Lydia keeps her legs closed, slipping a finger down her slit and rubbing slowly from side to side. She whimpers silently beside you, glancing at you nervously. Your fingers easily slip inside of your soft, dripping hole. 
Tess’s eyes dance between the two of you. “Two very different girls,” she says to the room, neither of you stopping what you’re doing, both determined to become a part of her Treasures. “One of you seems shy, but I can work with that. Help you get out of your shell. And then there’s you,” her focus locks on you as she gets up with a grunt and saunters over to you. “You are a little whore, aren’t you? So eager to please.”
You feel yourself getting wetter at her attention and mean words. She pets your head lightly a few times, laughing quietly at how you lean into her touch, your eyes fluttering closed. Just as your lashes hit your cheeks she grabs a handful, pulls hard and gets within inches of your face. “You’re going to be a problem, aren’t ya?”
“No,” you gasp, your orgasm right on the precipice, so you slow your motions. “I’ll be good, Tess.”
“Did I say you could slow down?”
“I - I’m gonna come,” you whine. 
“No, you’re not. You just told me you’d be good. And good girls don’t come until they’re told.” She releases your hair and you suck in a breath. Tess’s presence is palpable, she seems to take up all the space and air in the apartment by just being here. “Do NOT come, that’s an order.”
Just as the last sentence leaves her mouth the door opens and the apartment gets smaller, like your whole existence is being put in a vacuum sealer. The deep chuckle that comes from whoever just entered makes your scalp prickle, but you keep your focus on Tess.
“What’re we doin’ here, Tess?” The voice is deep, with a slight southern accent highlighting an occasional word. It can only belong to one man, the only man allowed near Tess’s Treasures. Joel Miller. He’s feared and revered in the Boston QZ. Runs the drug trade that keeps both FEDRA and the seedy underbelly running. You’ve never seen him before, but you’ve heard stories.
“Recruits,” Tess says, walking over to Lydia, crouching in front of her. “This one is shy. The other one - well, I might need your help with her.”
Your clit feels like it’s zapped with electricity at her threatening promises and you moan loudly, pausing your fingers that have been plunging in and out of you as per Tess’s requests. “See,” she says flatly, hands massaging Lydia’s plush tanned thighs. 
You hear Joel’s heavy footsteps as he walks towards you, you can feel his heat and smell the tobacco coming off his skin. When he steps into your line of vision everything blurs. He’s beautiful and dangerous, but overall he’s the most incredible specimen you’ve ever seen. Your brain seems to go blank, like a hard reset, until all you see and smell and care about is Joel. You keep your eyes locked on his face, his brows crease, lips pressed tightly together. He plants his hands on his hips as his coffee and whiskey eyes slowly trail down your body. When he gets to your soaked and swollen pussy he licks his lips. “You gonna let her come?” He asks Tess but doesn’t take his eyes off you.
The fog clouding your brain clears and you glance towards Lydia and Tess. She has her legs spread and Tess is smiling encouragingly up at her, hand on top of hers, teaching her where to touch. 
“She can come when she’s earned it. Lydia’s earned it though. Haven’t you?” She nods at Lydia as she squirms in the wooden kitchen chair. “That’s it, show us.”
Lydia speeds the up and down motion of her hand sloppily, you can hear the wetness as her movements become more erratic. Joel’s eyes haven’t left you, still watching you fuck your fingers in and out of yourself, almost mesmerized by you. 
“Tess,” Lydia murmurs.
“Go ahead, baby. Come for me. Let me see that pretty little pussy twitch.” 
Lydia’s body starts to shake as she cries out, her hand slowing as she whines and moans, “Oh god. Oh god. Yesyesyes.”
You peel your eyes away from her and squeeze every muscle in your body as tightly as you can, holding on, not letting yourself come. Looking at Joel makes it nearly impossible not to tip over that very tantalizing edge, so you clamp your eyes shut. “Tess,” Joel says, his voice a baritone whisper. “You’re torturing this one, look at her.”
He’s right, she is torturing you; but, what Joel doesn’t know is that you love it. You love being denied just as much as you love being used. You love being pinned down or tied up. You love having your throat or pussy or ass fucked in any and all positions known to humankind. The world is a dark and horrible shit show, but sex? Ya, sex makes you feel alive. 
“Torturing her would be not letting her touch herself at all. She should be thanking me.” Tess turns her attention back to Lydia, helping her stand up and pulling her to the couch. “You did such a good job for me. You looked stunning as you fell apart.”
You open your eyes at the movement of them. They stop and stand facing each other in front of the couch as Tess removes her shirt, her breasts are small and perky with light pink nipples. Joel looks away from you, staring appreciatively at the woman he’s sworn to protect. She pops the button on her jeans. “Take them off her, Lydia. Tess shouldn’t have to work this hard,” Joel commands. 
You whimper at the timbre of Joel's voice when he’s giving instructions and his eyes whip back to you. “You like that, don’t you? Being told what to do.”
“Yes, oh god, please can I come Tess,” you cry, eyes still locked with Joels.
“Lydia is going to lick my pussy, Joel is going to move out of the way so I can see you, and when I say you can come I want you to be loud. I want to hear those slutty little moans. Got it?”
Joel doesn’t hesitate, stepping behind your chair. He must be leaning over you because you swear you can feel his breath on the shell of your ear. Tess sits on the couch and tugs at Lydia’s wrist gently, encouraging her to kneel in front of her. “Come on,” she whispers and then places her finger at the top of her pussy. “Just lick and kiss right here. You can do it.”
Lydia moves slowly, giving you a knowing glance over her shoulder as she gets into Tess’s desired position. You suddenly realize that she’s more clever than you initially thought. She’s not shy, she knows exactly what she’s doing. Tess likes to lead, so she acted like she needed the guidance. And now she’s come and you haven’t. Tess’s head falls back, jaw going slack as Lydia tastes her. 
“Does that turn you on?” Joel whispers, his warm breath hitting your neck. “Seeing Tess being eaten out. She deserves that every day, you know. She’s gonna take such good care of you, so you better care for her.”
“I will,” you mumble. “I’ll do whatever she needs. Whenever. Fuuuuck.”
“Look how wet you’re getting, I don’t think you can hold it for much longer.” He’s taunting you now. “Little thing loves to come, doesn’t she?”
“No, Tess gets to - oh god - she says when,” you’re squeezing as tight as you can, holding back the orgasm that’s right there, like a seesaw teetering, so close to tipping to the other side and slamming through you. 
Lydia slurps at Tess, you can hear her sucking at her clit as Tess moans and tangles her fingers into Lydia’s hair. “Yes, that’s it. Fuck, right there.”
You let out a breathy whine and Tess’s eyes come to you. “Ssshh, not yet. Oh shit, Lydia. So good.”
Joel laughs into your ear. “Just come, what’s the worst she’s going to do? Spank you? Let me fuck your throat? I bet you like being punished.”
You shake your head, trying to block out all the lewd mental images he’s creating. “No, Joel.” you huff, refocusing on holding it in, thinking of all the unsexy thoughts you can as you watch Tess, waiting for your time. 
Tess’s legs begin to shake, “get ready, baby. We are going to come together.” 
Your wrist begins to ache, it feels like you’ve been fucking yourself for hours. “I need to, please. You look so - “
She cuts you off, “Joel, take over for her. I’m gonna come.”
Joel practically leaps in front of you, grabbing your wrist and pulling your drenched fingers out while slipping his two thick fingers into your mouth. You bob up and down on his fingers still looking at Tess. Her eyes are glazed over, and a bead of sweat slides down the line of her toned stomach and lands in her belly button. 
“Now, Joel,” she whines and Joel wastes no time slamming his fingers inside of you. You cry out at the stretch, pleasure mixing with pain before he pumps his fingers forward. “Come right now,” Tess says. 
You look down at Joel, his thumb coming to caress your swollen bundle of nerves and you cry out, the room filled with your loud moans just like she wants. You hear both her and Joel encouraging you. Joel’s Texas twang washing over you,  “that’s it, fuckin clenchin. Fuck you’re so tight.”
Joel is relentless, curling and dragging his fingers in and out of you as you writhe in your chair. “Tess, oh god, yes.”
Joel's other hand slaps the inside of your thigh, “LOUDER!” he demands.
You squeal at the hot pain that splashes along your thigh, “hhnnngg, thank you. Fuck.” Your pleasurable moans turn into whines of pain as the overstimulation starts to seep in. You try to pull back and bring your knees together and Joel lets out a growl. He looks up at you dangerously and your stomach clenches. This is the wild, animalistic Joel Miller that everyone fears. 
You start to panic, he’s not stopping and you don’t know if you can take much more. You’re so wrapped in his onyx gaze and a mix of fear and arousal that you don’t notice Tess behind Joel until she speaks. Her voice is soft yet firm as she cards her fingers through his greying curls, “Joel, that’s enough.”
He blinks hard, seemingly coming out of some sort of trance, and then slips his fingers from you, strings of milky arousal coating his fingers. “Good boy,” she whispers. “Help her up, but you don’t get to touch either of them until I say so.”
He nods and then stands, helping you up. Lydia is lounging lazily on the couch, her face still glistening with Tess’s juices. Your knees shake underneath you and Joel wraps an arm around your waist. You’ve had plenty of orgasms in your life, but never one that deep and strong. Your pussy is aching and you just want to sleep.
Tess sits on the chair that Lydia was on and spreads her legs slightly. “Lydia,” she crooks her fingers at her, calling her over. “Turn around, pretty girl. Straddle my thigh.”
Lydia follows Tess’s instructions, that fake nervous pout of her lips on display for Joel. Clever, very clever, you think through heavy eyelids. 
“Joel, help her on the other thigh and bring that chair.” Joel guides and steadies you as you sit on Tess’s thigh, then places the extra chair in front of the three of you. “Use the chair for balance,” Tess instructs, her hand running up and down your spine gently. 
You both lean forward, your sweaty palms slipping slightly against the wooden chair. You both gasp quietly as your swollen clits press into her muscular thigh, as she caresses your backs and hips. Joel sits on the couch across from you, one arm draped across the back and his legs spread. He watches you intently, eyes blown out and curls sticking to his forehead. It’s not lost on you that he hasn’t focused much attention on the other girl. You look over at Lydia and she’s smiling flirtatiously at you. Your faces are just inches apart and she nudges at your nose with hers.
“Ladies,” Tess starts, “this is the part where you show Joel what you can do. He’s going to kill people for you, and when he does, you need to repay him.”
You graze your lips against Lydias, her skin tastes like peaches and Tess’s cunt. 
“Pretend my thigh is Joel's cock, show him how you’ll ride him.”
You flick your attention back to Joel, and his expression shifts from hard to a tortured need. You rake your eyes down his strong chest, still concealed by that fucking denim button up that you want to rip off with your teeth. He’s dangerous and could easily snap your neck with two fingers, but fuck, if that doesn’t make you want him more. Lydia presses her lips to your throat and you start to grind back and forth on Tess’s thigh. 
You continue to take in Joel’s body, stopping when you get to his lap. Your eyes widen at the distinct outline of his hard cock pressing behind the zipper of his jeans. Your bottom lip slips between your teeth as you lock eyes with him again. His coffee coloured irises are almost onyx as he shifts in his seat. He wants you - just as much as you want him, and you just hope that you can break him enough so Tess lets him have you. 
Tess’s strong hand travels up the smooth skin of your back, tangling her hands in the hair at the nape of your neck. “Tell Joel how good it feels, baby. Lydia, keep kissing her.”
Lydia’s lips suck at your skin. “Mmm, fuck Joel. Feels s’good. Wish it was your big cock filling me up, sliding in and out of my tight, wet pussy.” Tess tugs at your hair to open your neck more for Lydia and you yelp.
“Keep talking, baby girl,” Joel says, his hand moving to palm himself over his jeans. “Tell me what you want.”
You grind harder into Tess’s thigh, between the sting in your scalp from her hand, Lydia’s soft lips on your neck, and Joel’s intense stare, it almost becomes hard to breathe. Every bit of their attention is on you.
“I-I want you to, mmmm, to pin me down,” you take in a shaky breath, never taking your eyes off him. “To f-fuck me…from behind. Want you to f-fill, oh god, fill me.”
Joel pops the button of his jeans, reaching down his pants to grip himself through his tight grey boxers. You continue breathily, “Wanna feel you spank me. Slam inside of me. Dominate me.”
“Good girl,” Tess says, releasing her grip on your hair and pulling Lydia off your neck, before pressing in between your shoulder blades until you’re flush with her thigh. You crane your neck to keep your eyes on Joel, looking at him through the wooden slats of the back of the chair in front of you. “Your turn, Lydia. Tell Joel what you want.”
She clears her throat before beginning, “If he killed for me, I wouldn’t make him do any work. I’d lay him down, lick and kiss every inch of him before sliding him in my mouth. Taking him deep, cradling his balls with my hand. I’d swallow every drop.”
Joel lets out a noncommittal grunt, almost like a secret language between him and Tess. Joel leans forward and removes his denim button up and t-shirt in one swoop. His tanned and toned chest makes your mouth water. His chiselled pecs and soft belly have trimmed salt and pepper hair dusted across them, he toes off his shoes and then lifts his hip, sliding his jeans down his legs. His skin glistens with sweat and you want to lick it all off of him, drink up his salt and musk, his innate Joel-ness. 
“Come here, Joel.” She says. 
“Sit up,” she says softly to you. Joel stalks forward like he’s about to claim what’s his and your pussy clenches around nothing in hopes that it’s you.
“Ride my thighs, girls. Whoever cums first, Joel gets to fuck.” You spit into your hand and reach between your legs, gently spreading your lips and coating yourself in saliva.
A deep, “holy fuck” leaves Joel's lips at the sight of you. Yes, he definitely wants you just as much as you want him. You move your hands from the chair to Tess’s knee and grind your hips in small, slow circles. Your arms push your tits together for Joel. Beside you, Lydia stops moving. She sits as still as a statue, looking over her shoulder seductively at Tess. A loud slap fills the room, followed by a lust filled moan that you didn't think Lydia was capable of. 
“Tess,” she says, all airy and breathy. Her tone feels sweet on your skin. “I don’t like sleeping with men.” 
You keep grinding, your focus on Joel. He’s so close that you could reach out and grab one of his muscular forearms. You’re going to fuck him. You want to fuck him. Any way he wants. Any hole he wants. None of it matters, you just want to feel him, smell him, taste him. 
Tess lets out an impressed sigh. “You’re even more amazing than I thought, Lydia. Had me telling you how to lick a pussy, how to touch yourself. But you already know. Don’t you?” She slaps Lydia’s ass again and the loud noise even has you clenching. Fuck, you want Joel to spank you. Or Tess. Even Lydia at this point. 
It’s wrong. And taboo. But who can say what’s right or wrong in this new world anymore? 
“You are going to have to do things for Joel, little temptress. It’s part of the deal.” You see Tess’s hands come to Lydia’s hips, encouraging her to grind at the same pace you’ve set. “So ride me. Let me feel that slick little pussy, let me feel it quiver on my thigh.” 
Things are quiet for a moment, just the squelching sounds of both your cunts gliding along her smooth thigh. You lean into Lydia, desperate for more. More what, you aren’t sure. Just more.
She responds to your touch, her nose brushing your cheek before you turn into her and kiss her deeply. Slanting your head to taste her tongue against yours. She’s sweet, like strawberry jam. Lips so soft they almost don’t feel real. Her teeth clamp onto your bottom lip and you cry out. The perfect amount of pain to increase the pleasure between your legs. When she lets go you’re panting. 
“She’s close, Tess,” Joel murmurs like he knows your body so well, but he’s not wrong. He continues speaking casually to Tess as if you aren’t in the same room. “Do I really get to fuck her if she cums first?” 
You grind down harder, kissing Lydia again. You love them talking about you as if you aren’t here. Making the decisions for you. 
“As soon as she cums, you take her to the bed.” Tess’s strong hand lays a sharp slap on the meaty globe of your ass and you crumble. 
“YES!” You scream, convulsing as the pleasure courses through you. You look up at Joel through your lashes, jaw slack, voice weak and desperate. “Joel. Please. Please.” 
He drops his boxers and his thick cock spring free. Slapping against his belly. The tip is smooth and leaking, he’s bigger than you thought and somehow your throat dries out as your cheeks fill with saliva. As you come down from your second orgasm you realize that you can do this. You are going to do whatever Tess says and become one of her Treasures. 
“Think you can take him?” Tess hums as Lydia falls apart beside you, moaning sweetly. Tess adds, “Good girl, Lydia. So perfect when you cum.”  
You decide to take a page out of Lydia's book and act innocent. “N-no,” you stammer. “It’s…I don’t…it’s too big.” 
Joel snorts, “You’re not a very good liar my little slut.” 
Before you can respond he’s lifted you up and over his broad shoulder. His skin is warm against your belly. You giggle mischievously as his hands dig into the plush skin on the back of your thighs. He can so easily overpower you, so easily destroy you - mentally and physically. And you’d let him, and to make it worse, you’d thank him afterwards and probably ask him to do it again. 
He drops you on the bed. “Don’t move.” 
You nod and swallow the dry lump in your throat. You definitely want this, even if you shouldn’t. Even if that logical voice inside your head is screaming at you to put up the wall, block him out like you do with everyone else. But the infinitesimal hint of softness in his face that can only be seen by the two of you keeps you sucked in. He won’t hurt you, no. Something in his eyes gives him away, he wants to please you with those hands that have brought pain and torture to so many others. 
He walks back over to Tess and Lydia who are completely entranced with one another. Lydia is now sitting fully in Tess’s lap. Her back pressed to Tess’s front, both her legs draped over Tess’s as she pressed kisses along the tops of one of her shoulders and rubs her fingers gently from her pussy up to Lydia’s. Joel kneels in front of them, both of their legs spread, wet pussy’s glistening and on display for him. The sight of Joel Miller on his knees does something unexplainable to you. He’s so goddamn delicious. 
He looks over at you again, that softness still coaxing you deeper into his web, tangling around you, claiming you. His large hands cup Tess’s inner thighs and then he dives into both their pussy’s. Jealousy swirls in your stomach as he draws a sloppy wet line from Tess’s entrance to her clit, then up to Lydia in the same manner. 
“Oh, fuck Joel,” Tess cries as Lydia whimpers.
“Too much, baby?” he says gruffly to Lydia who nods before burying her face into the crook of Tess’s neck. “Little more, m’kay?”
He licks at them again, Tess’s moan ending as Lydia’s starts. Joel doesn’t stop. He uses long languid and lazy strokes of his tongue as he eats at both of them.
“J-Jo - fuuuck Joel!” Tess murmurs, her head falling back and mouth falling open in a silent scream. She wraps her arms tightly around Lydia as her legs start to tremble. Joel’s deltoids and biceps flex as he pushes to keep her thighs apart.
“Fuck, Tess.” Lydia purrs, “You look so goddamn hot when you cum. Suck on her clit, Joel. Make our girl squeal.” You can hear him slurp her swollen and twitching nub into his mouth. As it slips along his soft and puffy lips her pained sounding moans start to become mumbles of pleasure. Joel works her through her orgasm, not stopping until he knows she's good and sated.  
Lydia reaches back, twisting to kiss Tess deeply and then whispers into her lips. Whatever she says gets Joel's attention and he releases her clit with a pop before looking up at the two women. You haven’t moved from where Joel left you, as fun as being a brat is, he could probably dish out a punishment so intense that even you would break and use whatever safe word he gave you. Lydia whispers more, Joel smirks at whatever she’s saying and then the three of them all slowly turn to look over at you.
Fuck
Joel stands, his hands coming to the outsides of Tess’s knees and guiding her as she closes her legs, then he gives a hand to Lydia to help her stand before repeating the same with Tess. He stands tall and broad, completely naked and fully erect between these two powerhouse women, linking his fingers with Tess and smiling over at her. She gives him a little nod and your stomach flips as your pussy clenches.
This is it, you think.
“Little slut,” he says deeply, “‘M’gonna fuck you now, while they hold you down. Understood?”
You try to say yes, but just air seems to leave your lungs. Tess and Lydia climb along each side of you, hooking their arm under your leg and pulling back to open you for Joel. Your arms are trapped under their bodies as they lay beside you.  You’re pinned and exposed; fully at Joel, Tess and Lydia’s mercy. 
The bed dips as Joel settles between your thighs, his large body looms over you, resting himself on one forearm beside your head, his other hand wrapped around his cock, running it up and down your folds.
“So wet for me. So soft,” he presses the fat tip of his cock at your entrance and you gasp. “Shit! S’tight too, baby girl.”
Tess and Lydia nuzzle into you, lightly dragging their noses along your neck and jawline. “J-Joel, fuck me. Pleaseplease. Fuck me”
Joel presses his hips forwards, and the thick, smooth mushroom head of his cock pushes at your weeping cunt again. “Look at me, little slut,” he rasps. You don’t hesitate, look at him with big innocent eyes, biting your lower lip. He spits into his palm and then coats his throbbing dick with it, fisting himself up and down. He raises an eyebrow at you cockily, “Say it again.”
“Fuck me, fuck me, please!”
Without warning Joel slams into you, stretching you painfully and your body jolts. You try to slam your knees together but the naked women on each side of you keep you spread open widely for Joel. “Shit baby,” he says through gritted teeth as his body folds over yours, his hands caging all three of you in. Tess nips at your neck, while Lydia sucks at your earlobe after whispering, “Relax, little slut, we all got you.”
Your lungs slowly come back to you. You take a deep, full breath in, and it feels like you haven’t taken a proper breath since seeing Joel for the first time. As you exhale you’re completely surrounded by Joel Miller. His large body is all you can see and feel. Meanwhile, all you can taste and smell is his tobacco scent and the salt of the sweat that coats his tanned skin. You’re addicted, you want to be able to inject him right into your veins. Your pussy relaxes around him and the pain ebbs into pleasure, and you need more.
“More, please more,” you murmur into his neck.
“There she is,” Tess whispers in your ear and you whimper.
“Say it again,” Joel commands.
“Fuck me, Joel,” you cry. “Please, fuck me. Make me your little slut for real.”
Lydia giggles seductively in your ear, pulling you into her tighter.
“Open her all the way for me,” he says to the other two. “S’too tight for me.”
He sits himself up and your knees are pulled open and back. Joel keeps his eyes locked on yours as he tilts his chin a bit and splits on your already soaked pussy. His veiny hands come to the back of your thighs, squeezing and massaging at your sensitive skin.
“Think I should fuck her, Lydia?” He starts, and soon they’re talking about you again as if you aren’t even there, the slick walls of your cunt fluttering as they speak.
“She's been good, hasn’t she?” Lydia says in a syrupy aroused tone.
“No she hasn’t,” Tess says between kisses along your jawline. “She’s a thief. She’s a bad girl.”
Joel slaps the inside of one of your thighs, with just enough of a flick in his wrist that it immediately sends a zap of pleasure toward your clit. Lydia feels you relax more into her grips, “She likes it when you hit her, Joel”.
“Of course she does,” Tess moans. “She’s a little slut.” She hits the t at the end of the word hard and Joel slaps you again. Right in the same spot, precision that you’ve never known before from a man who kills without being seen. 
“Should feel how tight she is, maybe she had us fooled,” Joel says, eyes shifting between the two women, wholly avoiding your gaze. You’re so desperate for his attention, and the humiliation of him not returning it arouses you so much more than it should.
“What’d’ya mean, baby boy?” Tess asks, her warm breath hitting your neck, causing a shiver to run down your spine.
“Like a virgin, squeezin’ me like a vice.”
“She’s shakin,” Lydia adds. “Poor girl.”
“You two don’t stop kissing her while I do this,” they both nod and he flips his attention back to you. “I wanna hear you screamin’. Got it, little slut?”
You shudder under his intense stare. “Yes, yes, Joel. Please, just fuck me. Pleeease!”
He pulls halfway out and then slams back in, his heavy balls slap at your taint and asshole, your needy high pitched moans filling the room. Your whole body constricts around Joel and as it relaxes it feels like heaven. No one has made your body feel like this. “That feel good?” Joel says tauntingly, his hands gripping into the back of your thighs.
“Please - fuck, yes. More,” you mumble, almost incoherently. 
“Show our girl, Joel. Show her what he can have once she’s my Treasure.” Tess commands.
What’s that saying, ‘You say jump, I say how high’? Well, when Tess says jump, Joel is already mid jump, doing it exactly how Tess wants it. He’s already dragging his cock out slowly, all the way to the tip, before slamming fast and hard back into you.
“Harder,” Tess growls, biting your neck as Joel repeats the motion. Lydia squirms against you, her soft warm skin slipping along the thin sparkling layer of sweat that coats your body. “Look at her. Pliant, soft. Letting Joel do whatever he wants.”
“That’s cuz she’s a good girl,” Lydia moans, kissing the sensitive skin under your earlobe. 
Joel brings one of his hands to cup your chin, his thumb running around your bottom lip softly. “Gotta relax for me, little slut.”
You take a breath and as you exhale you can feel the grip your pussy has on his thick cock loosen. “That’s it. That’s my girl.”
“Good job, baby girl,” Tess whispers, kissing at your throat again. 
“Fuck her now, Joel.” Lydia says, “We got her.”
Joel sets a quick pace, slamming in and out of you. His name and a string of swears leaving your lips with every thrust, just the screams of your pleasure and the squelching of your pussy filling the room. Tess and Lydia whisper praises as Joel is possessed by your cunt. Pounding and pounding into you without pause. Over and over, he’s relentless. A man possessed. You can’t help but wonder if he’s like this with all other women or if this is just for you. His hand falls from your chin, landing beside Tess’s head on the mattress, the other still gripped to your thigh. His short nails dig into your skin, leaving you marked with signs of him. 
“That’s it,” Lydia hums. “Taking it like such a good girl.”
Tess’s teeth lightly scrape at your jawline. “Come on, baby. I wanna see you come again.”
“So fuckin’ pretty when you come,” Joel says each word at the end of his harsh thrusts. His voice is gravelly and deep. Seeping under your skin and into your DNA, the very fabric of your being. You belong to him, no questions asked.
“M-more. I - more - please.” You aren’t sure what you mean by more, but Joel seems to know your body better than you as he sits himself back up and brings his thumb to your clit, teasing it gently and you writhe under him. It’s almost too much but you need it, and even more, you need Joel not to stop.
He hammers into you again, slower this time, but still with an intense flick of his hips at the end. The leaking tip of his cock pressing against the perfect spongy part behind your clit.
“Can see you in her stomach, Cowboy.” Tess moans. Both the women feather long, lingering kisses along your neck. The juxtaposition of their soft actions and the bruising dance of Joel’s hip is just as confusing as it is arousing. 
“Rub her clit a little harder, Joel. I think she’s getting close.” You clench around him at Lydia’s words and cry out loudly. 
He swirls his thumb easily along your lubricated clit, the mixture of both of your arousals and his spit making it slippery. “Ohgod, hnnnnggg, J-Joel pleasepleaseplease.”
“Sssshhh, baby,” he soothes, pausing with his hips pushed flush to your ass. “Gotta relax, remember?”
You whimper in agreement, nodding your head as you try to slow your breathing and your heart rate. “There she goes,” Joel moans as your pussy walls flutter and then relax.
He starts to fuck you slowly, circling your swollen velvety nub with the rough pad of his thumb. His other hand leaves your thigh, massaging your breast, pinching at the nipple with his thumb and forefinger. “Fuck, you feel so good. So tight. Gonna fill you one day.”
“Today, please!” you protest through a salacious moan.
“Tell her,” he says to the women holding you in their arms, speeding up the circles of his thumb.
“Lydia,” Tess whispers, like it’s a secret just for the three of you, “Tell her your plan.”
You’re lost in a daze as Lydia says your name into your skin. When you don’t respond she nips gently at you and says, “Baby? You with me?”
“Y-yes. Fuuuuuuck,” you say wantonly.
“Joel is gonna make you cum, then pull out and cum all over our faces. After, we are going to lick it all off each other.” She says it with a hint of mischief and lust in her voice.
The three of them praise and encourage you as Joel keeps fucking you and rubbing your clit at the same time. You have no idea how long you’ve been in this apartment, how long you’ve been floating on a vibrating fluffy cloud of pleasure and craving. Whispers of “Good girl”, “so pretty”, and “fuck listen to how wet you are” travel through you.  
The electric currents of pleasure that sizzle along your skin all come to the base of your spine. Pressure building, so very close to exploding around all of you. “Come on, little slut. Let go for me.”
Lydia and Tess say ‘Come on’ and ‘relax into it’ at the same time.
“Shit, J-Joel,” you whimper. A tear runs down your cheek.
“I know, I’m here,” he says, voice slightly softer than earlier. “I know.”
The pressure becomes unbearable and then everything snaps. Your pussy flutters as the pleasure starts to consume every single inch of your being. Your vision blurs, every muscle going lax as you twitch unconsciously underneath him. 
“Good girl. Yes, that’s my good little slutty girl,” he growls. Your orgasm continues to tear through you, ripping you in half and you know when you come down only Joel will be able to stitch you back up again. 
Joel presses his large palm to your mound, and just as you feel yourself start to come down you’re on the precipice of another orgasm. “Got another one for me, baby?”
“Yesyesyes - yeeesss,” you’ve forgotten words, you’re just a bundle of pleasure. No muscles or bones or thoughts of your own. Just a pliant body, that’s fully under the control of Joel Miller. 
Your second orgasm hits you hard, tearing anything you had left in half. “She’s gonna squirt,” Joel mumbles.
“Just let it go,” Lydia whispers, suckling on your earlobe. 
You push into the feeling, letting it overtake you as liquid gushes from your cunt, coating Joel's pelvis and pooling on the bed below you. It splashes as Joel keeps up his pace. You scream out in pleasure. Lydia and Tess talking you through it quietly, “Good girl. Stay relaxed for me,” Tess says as Lydia adds, “Let it take you, we’re right here.”
The pleasure starts to ebb, it’s becoming too much as Tess whispers, “Breathe, baby girl. Just breathe.”
“Can’t, Tess.” you whimper, turning your face towards her. “Please,” you plead. If you learned anything from earlier, it’s that only Tess can make him stop. 
“Ok, baby, you’re ok,” she hums. She looks up at Joel above all of you and drops her voice, “That’s enough now, Joel.”
Joel pulls away from your clit and you sigh in relief, both his hands coming to your breasts, squeezing them roughly as his thrusts become sloppy. “Get ready,” he huffs through gritted teeth. Both Tess and Lydia scoot up so their faces are pressed against yours.
Joel slips out of you with a lewd pop and practically bends you in half to get over your faces. “Open your mouths and look at me,” he commands. The three of you obey, anything for the man who is going to kill for you or defend you to the very end if need be. 
His hand is tight around his cock, pumping himself quickly, the cords of muscle and veins along his forearm start to pop. His balls are full and heavy, tight against his body as he edges closer to his release. You stare at him, soaking in how wrecked he looks as he gets closer. His brows pinch together, onyx and whiskey flecked eyes looking only at you before his face goes lax and he lets out a deep, loud moan. Warm ropes of opaque white cum paint your faces.
As soon as he’s done he pulls away, Tess and Lydia letting go of your legs as the three of you kiss and lick at each other's sticky faces. Joel tastes better than you could have imagined, a heady mix of saltiness that leaves you insatiable for more.
Joel sits back on his heels watching the three of you slurp him up. He has a proud smirk on his face and when your eyes find his he winks at you before getting up and grabbing a towel off the top of the small dresser near the bed. Tess says something hushed to Lydia as you and Joel look at one another. Lydia pressed a kiss to your cheek before getting off the bed and following Tess into another room, the unmistakable sound of the shower alerting you to where they’ve gone.
Joel climbs beside you, looking down at you hesitantly. “You ok?” he whispers.
“Ya,” you sign sleepily. “I’m ok, Joel.”
He brings the towel to your thighs, soaking up your arousal. “I didn’t hurt ya?”
The towel ghosts along your swollen folds and you gasp, turning your head into Joel’s strong upper body. “I know, sorry.” He hisses, hating that he’s causing you discomfort. “But I gotta clean you up.”
He dabs gently with the soft towel causing an aftershock that shakes through your body and you feel yourself squirt again. Not nearly as much this time but a euphoric moan leaves your lips. Joel tucks the towel between your legs and guides your face up to meet his. His brown eyes burn themselves into your soul, “do you need more, baby? Just tell me.”
“It’s sensitive,” you whine.
He lifts an eyebrow slightly, “does it hurt?”
You stick your bottom lip out and nod sadly.
“Need me to kiss it?” he asks gently, his hooked nose rubbing against yours. 
You look at him hesitantly. Of course, you want Joel’s plush lips on your pussy, but a flap of a butterfly wing could probably cause you to implode at this point. 
“You can say another time,” he whispers, lips hovering over yours. He doesn’t know where this side of him has come from. Joel Miller is a simple man. Murder who Tess says, fuck any one of her Treasures that offer to get the adrenaline out afterwards, then leave them in their apartment pumped full of his cum. He usually can’t wait to rush back to his apartment to take a shower and shoot back a mix of whiskey and sleeping pills. But with you, he feels the need to care for you afterwards, and he has a strong feeling that you’re going to be a very large distraction in his life from now on. 
I’m fucked, he thinks to himself.
You lean forward to sponge your lips against his. He kisses you sweetly, pulling you in tighter as you hum contently into his lips.
“I don’t think I can tonight,” you say softly after breaking the kiss. 
“That’s ok, little slut.” He rolls onto his back, pulling you with him so you’re resting on top of him. Legs straddling his hips and your head resting on his chest. You shiver against him, tucking your arms into your body. His hands scramble for the blanket, wrapping it around the two of you, kissing the top of your head. “Tomorrow, after Tess officially makes you her Treasure, that will be your gift from me.”
You nod into his chest, he smells like gunpowder, fresh sawdust and sweat as your eyelids become heavy and the world seems to slip away. You have trouble sleeping normally, I mean who wouldn’t in this fucked up new world you’re all in, but with Joel, it happens almost too easily. Sleep just takes you to a deep and uninterrupted place for who knows how long. But when you wake you’re in a large grey t-shirt in a small bedroom, not the same one you fell asleep in. You hear the peaceful and melodic breathing of someone beside you. You move slowly, peeling open your eyes to see Joel sleeping beside you. The moonlight dances softly along his face, grey hairs glinting in the light. He looks so peaceful, nothing like the man that was crazed by your pussy early. He’s still visibly dangerous, but fuck is he beautiful. 
I’m fucked, you think to yourself.
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cuntdevil · 2 months ago
Text
★ DIVERSE PALETTE!
you always considered yourself diverse within the world of food & the culinary arts, but you realize how inept you are when you meet sukuna. he lets you know that your palette was weak until you tried him.
( fic demographics. ) jujutsu kaisen, sukuna ryomen, fluff & sexually mature | minors, ageless & blank blogs: do not interact & 1544 words.
╰┈➤ chef!sukuna, afab!reader (she/her pronouns), panty thief!sukuna, fingering, slight pussy job, unprotected sex, finger sucking, lowercase intended (i wrote this on my phone lolz), not proofread.
( author's note. ) kinda wanna expand on chef!sukuna now? would love to write a long fic dedicated to it now. it'd be so yummy 😋 !!
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"oh, really?" his chuckle is deep, reverberating from his chest as he listens to you go on and on about the many trips you've taken around the world. how you've tried so many cuisines and the authentic delicacies of the people from whichever country you've made a visit to. you're not even trying to be a pretentious bitch, eyes lighting up in genuine passion as they sparkle under the dim lights of the restaurant of his choice.
the moment he had mention his interests in cooking, never letting you know that he was a chef with a restaurant of his own, you leaned in over the table, your interest evidently piqued as he gives a simple shrug, not finding what about his occupation made him so captivating. this blind date was supposed to fail, he thought. he believed that with the shrug of his shoulders and his dreadful nonchalance would pull you away from him. a sweet thing that sat at a table all along after he was nearly an hour late. eyes that pitied you as you looked around in expectance. truthfully, his plans were to stand you up, but you were badgering his friends and in response, his friends badgered him.
a few of his "friends" or his work colleagues as he preferred to put it, had set him up on one in hopes to get him out of his work. he found nothing intriguing about his career choice, yet he slaved away in the kitchen to perfect his craft. he loved his job, but he didn't see the point in talking about it outside of it. it's what he did, and when he did allot time outside of it, he didn't want to talk about it.
but you? you wore a vermillion dress that went well with your warm undertones, causing you to glow within the stiff building. where everyone else wore the safe colors of black and white, you stood out in the satin cloth that clings to you in a snug fit with gold jewelry that rests against your brown skin and further accentuates your beauty. you're not wearing that much makeup, but sukuna wouldn't know. that's not something he's too familiar, but if you are, it melts beautifully into your skin and it's alluring.
he finds your passion for the topic amusing, noticing that you're picking at your plate with your fork. you've eaten a bit, but not a lot. tapping his feet against the tiled-floor as he took becomes interested, it must be contagious. "what do you think about your food tonight? how does it compare to everywhere else you've been?"
"oh! um..." you stop in your tracks, eyes widening at the tone he takes. you realize that you've done it again. started rambling and made yourself seem like all that you're not. you become hyper aware of everything you're doing, wondering if you're being an asshole by bringing up your experiences. you've been told that you might come across that way. in fact, before arriving to this date, you were told not to bring up your trips. and here you are, doing just that. "um, i'm sorry. i didn't mean to come off a certain way—"
he notices that you drop the fork, letting it fall to the plate with a clank. you start fidgeting with your nails, picking at the skin. an awful habit you've come to have. "i'm no food critic or expert, just a foodie who travels a lot, so i don't think that it'll really matter. the food does taste good though! i just got... a little ahead of myself."
cute, he thinks.
"huh?" you grow flustered at the mumbled comment. you're sure he didn't mean to utter that out loud if you're absolutely sure you caught what he said. it's good to know that you've got his attention somehow.
"hm?" he dismisses it with a clear in his throat. "well, i didn't mean to sound so condescending myself. i just wanted to see if this restaurant was matching your tastes."
the heat bites at your face, as you're quick to dismiss his words. "oh, don't worry! i'll eat anything— everything matches my tastes."
"oh yeah?" his voice grows even huskier. "then im pretty sure you won't mind having a taste of me."
"what... what?" the conversation has took a turn and you're unsure if it's for the better or worse, but sukuna's sitting up in his chair, leaning closer to you to the point you can feel his breath against your skin. you didn't mishear him. you know that for sure just based on the dark gleam in his eyes.
"you heard me," a devious grin graving his features. sharp, carnivorous teeth that peak out from his lips in a dashing grin. "i'm dying to just have a taste of you. i'm sure you wouldn't mind having one for yourself, hm?"
₊˚⊹♡
he's an insatiable creature who's lips you can't help but devour whenever he's in your presence. a man that you can't get enough of and puts all of your endeavors to shame. you've come to learn that he's a man skilled in the kitchen as well in the bed, that first night after your first date with him, putting every other man and every plate into an embarrassed frenzy.
he was bold and passionate, despite what he wanted to deceive you on. his nonchalance could never hide how he yearned and strived to be better and to improve every dish he's created.
"no one's ever mastered anything," he told you once, while he cooked you steamed fish. his callused hands moving delicately across the plate as he handled the food with care. this was a dinner date after all, and he had to improve his little food critic. "there's always some way we can improve."
what you both believed to be one night of heavenly passion turned into more. something genuine being pulled out in the midst of it all. he was right in a sense. it was human nature to have flaws, but you could see none of his. not even with the way he manhandled you in the night, while in the day, he'd hold you like a lady.
he was a course that you had never tasted before. that exploded on your taste buds the moment you kissed him. with a lingering touch and the swipe of his finger against your bottom lip before he intoxicated you with his divinity. he was something that had you weak in the knees, ready to bow down to him at any moment's time. he proved to you that your exquisite palette was as exquisite as you made it to be.
his rough, callused hands that are tender from a long day's worth of cooking and preparation for the next hold gently as he carries you over to the bed. lines of blue that traverse his wrists, a thumb padding and rubbing calming circles into your hips. smooth and soft, supple lips that capture yours for a heated kiss— a shared silence between the two of you, minus the huffs of haughty moans and the air you both share.
your whines and whimpers are weak, swallowed by him as he devours you. but you do the same. nimble fingers that grasp at him, arms that wrap around his shoulder and nails digging into his back. he flexes and contracts at the pinch of skin, trying to get impossibly closer. the pile of clothing builds into a haphazardous mess, watching the two of you messily dance towards your bed.
and you bounce when you land on top, a squeal that should all be too familiar with this process. your eyes gloss and shimmer with an expectancy as they take in sukuna's spectacular form. black ink that travel the course of his body, prominent in the dim lighting of his bedroom.
your eyes roam as he unzips his pants, a relief to be unrestrained as he shimmies from out of them and they pool to the floor. black boxer briefs that hug him perfectly and does nothing to hide the growing erection that's underneath. all the while, his eyes stayed on yours, watching how you were so mesmerized with him. one knee causes the bed to dip, the route to you is now muscle memory. he hovers over you, an intimidating spirit that causes your stomach to flutter with butterflies and a pool growing in between your legs.
your fingers reach for the band of his underwear, and with you, he's not afraid to let go. he exhales as he lets you reach inside, fingers that graze and gently pull at the dark hues of his happy trail, combing your digits through the tufts of hair before you feel the base of his cock. you both let out a sound of need— you anticipating his cock and him loving the feeling of you around him. he has a habit of knitting his eyebrows together whenever you give into the urge, thick bushes that allude to one as a guttural sound leaves his lips.
your hands are cold, sending a shiver down his spine as you squeeze slightly at the base. he continues to harden under your hold, the tent in his boxer briefs becoming more prominent despite your hand inside it. your free hand comes to wrap around his waist, feeling each crevice and well-sculpted muscle of him as you drag him down into you. releasing your hand from his underwear, you buck your hips into his erection. you're so heavy with need, wrapping a leg to pull him in immensely as you mewl. "ryo, i need you."
with a menacing smirk, his eyes look down at you devilishly. "'m all yours for the taking."
"i need you t'do something, ryo," you specify, growing whiny at his teasing and bucking your hips further into him. his bulge rubbing against your pussy, your juices seeping through your panties. your back arches from the bed, grinding up into him for the friction and how it feels so good. your chest beats fast, your breathes becoming short with heavy want and desire. it's so bad, you're starting to tear up the longer sukuna withholds action. "please."
"alright." he gives in easy at the sight of a tear prickling the corner of your eye. arms lowering to press his chest into yours and immediately capturing you for a kiss, his hands going straight to cupping your pussy and feeling just how wet you are through the lacy fabric. you both move in a rhythm, further dampening your panties as you exhale in delight. you mewl into his lips, letting him swallow every sound from you as he gnaws on your bottom lip.
rubbing in circles to your clothed clit, soon enough he can hear just how wet you are from his very few actions. he tugs down the underwear, pulling it down by the crotch. you assist in kicking it off, well aware that this might be another pair that'll find itself lost and no longer in your possession now that it's in the hands of sukuna. he's hasty in shoving two fingers inside of you, needing to stretch you no matter how many times the two of you have both shared this bed. you croak out a slightly pained moan as sukuna sucks on your bottom lip, shifting your focus.
your walls greedily suck him in, your juices like a trap as sukuna wants nothing than to create more, to see once more just how your pussy reacts to him. deep inside, his fingers curl inside of you before pulling out. his wet fingers traversing to your clit and taunting your needy hole. you clench, your juices seeping out as sukuna circles your nub. "that's enough, hm? or does my darling need more?"
fingers returning to its home inside your pussy, you whine at the feeling as he sets a moderate pace, fucking you with his thick fingers. your eyes shut, basking in the feeling as you let your body relax into him. no, it's never enough. he fills you with a carnal need that you're not sure you'll ever be able to satiate. he has you addicted, forever wanting more. will this intimacy ever be enough?
"i need more," you finally answer, hands reaching for his erection once more. cupping his cock as he did your pussy. "want you— your cock in me. please, ryo. please."
with a few more thrusts of his fingers, he removed them and lets them dance on your tongue, letting you taste your need for him. your tongue swirls, saliva replacing your slick. he joins you in your hum of delight, missing him tugging down his boxer briefs. a length too heavy that it falls, dark shafts with a mushroom tip, he holds it. rubbing the tip with his thumb, he hisses at how needy he is, feeling how much he himself also wants you.
he plants his length in between your folds, bucking his hips into you as he slides inbetween your pussy lips. his head tilts, fitting it in the crevice of your neck. his breath sends jolts down you, feeling his lips on your jaw as the head of his cock kisses your entrance, slowly sliding in. "it's all yours, love."
and feeling him inside you again, reminds you once more that you've never had anything— anyone — as good as him.
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axuanmii · 3 months ago
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To Follow One's Heart | ao3 link
Shinichi has always felt resigned to living a normal life — but when he’s mysteriously cursed and subsequently encounters the famous magician thief who calls himself Kaito, he comes to find that his life is actually the farthest thing from ordinary.
hello to all that despair from whatever m27 was, here is my art piece for a kaishin borderline howl's moving castle au!!
i say borderline because while this was my idea, i didn't actually like. finish watching the movie before, so the lovely writer @jodaneko chose to contribute their extensive wisdom and bring my idea to life! their fic part is linked above. please follow/subscribe to the fic for future chapters; it's been wonderful planning and watching this fic's progress!
there will also be extra art to come accompanying the chapters, so feel free to come back to this post as i add them or see them alongside the actual chapters on ao3!
this was in collaboration for the @kaishinbigbang :D
extra arts below the cut
part 2
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part 3
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part 4
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part 5
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groceryreceiptss · 11 months ago
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𝐚𝐥𝐥'𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 & 𝐬𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 | p.j.
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percy jackson x reader | word count : 1.4k | requested
summary : though you were a skillful archer, you were an amateur when it came to dealing with a sword. while percy helped you trained for hours after lunch, he couldn’t help but fall in deeper with you, even though you’d probably never know it.
contains : my writing (again, warning). just fluff things <3 reader was implied as apollo's daughter, but never actually specified. oh, and a katniss everdeen reference! (because is the fic actually written by me if it doesn't include at least one thg reference?). let me know if there’s more!
a/n : i do NOT know how to write action-y scenes (even ones that are as light as this) so sorry if this comes out as flat haha. i had to get out my copy of the lightning thief just to be a tinny bit more familiar with it to be honest. also yes the title is kinda cheesy but soo is this entire fic < 3
credits : fan art by frostbite.studios, dividers by @benkeibear, pins i used (1) (2) (3)
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The afternoon sun hit the color of your eyes as you tried the move he had just demonstrated to you. Your eyebrows were furrowed in concentration and your forehead slicked with sweat. A borrowed but fitting sword was gripped in your hand, ready to clatter his. Percy and you had been going at it ever since lunch ended and yet you still seemed determined to keep going. 
Percy counted and you attacked, one, two, three. Next move, you tried to thrust it into the right of his protected ribcage. But with your lovely eyes being a little too obvious and your hand still clumsy with the blade, he deflected it off easily, letting yours fall to the ground. 
“Oh, I’m terrible,” you said with an embarrassed smile, pulling up your bronze helmet and dragging a hand to swipe your hair out of your forehead. You retrieved the sword and turned to ask him. “Okay, honest opinion. What did I do wrong?” 
“Well…” he started, as he took off his own helmet, tucking it under his arm, “Your eyes give away a bit too much to the opponent, so I could easily tell what you were going to do. You’re still too hesitant about it I think.” 
You playfully rolled your eyes, “Well, how can I not when my opponent at this given moment is Percy fucking Jackson but go on.” 
Percy was thankful that the sun was taking it one for the team and became a cover for the red that just possibly covered his face. He shook his head, fighting a smile that was trying to break through his lips. Joke about it, take defense.
The lines of his mouth morphed into a teasing grin. “Is that an excuse that I hear, miss y/l/n? Since when do you play with those?”  You were always so stubborn, in the best sense of the word. And Percy always found it admirable to say the least.
You raised your eyebrows before shooting back, “And if it is, it's also not unreasonable, Mr. Jackson.” That cute smile of yours taking flight in your face. He noticed that it was still the same one from when he first saw you at twelve, a few years back. Some things never changed. 
“What else?” You asked again, crossing your arms with the sword pointing downward. “Come on, don't be shy. I can take it.”
He considered it before answering. “Your hand wasn’t steady enough with the sword and with the move you were trying to execute. It made it a bit… off. And hard to get away in battles.”
You let yourself collapse to the ground with a dramatic sigh, exhaustion finally took over you. Your legs stretched in front of you and your helmet and sword clanged by your side. “Never mind, I lied, I can't take it."
He laughed and sat down next to you, putting his equipment by yours. The wind was finally picking up now, bringing a sense of balance to the hot weather.
"I can never get this right.” You huffed, blowing up your loosen hair, which Percy couldn't help but think that you looked slightly adorable.
“It’s totally fine,” he promised you, words creeped with encouragement. “Just be more confident! I swear it works. Or just…” he trailed off, unsure, and then shrugged. “don’t think about it too much, I guess.” 
“Contradiction, contradiction.” You said in a sing-song voice before looking at him with that inspecting face and said, “Do you drink some secret potion or something? Someone altered your ambrosia?”
Percy let out a laugh, “Your perception of me is unrealistically high, I see. I can say the same to you, Katniss Everdeen.”
Your face’s expression stretched with surprise before you nodded in approval. “That’s the best way to compliment my archery skills actually, yes. Forget Apollo the doofus.”
“Who?” Percy played in the joke, to which you answered with the only appropriate one : “Exactly.”
He clapped his hand, an idea forming in his head. "Alright, how about this. If you give it a try just one more time, I'll give you some blue cupcakes my mom just sent me a few days ago." He offered with a knowing smile, getting you too well to strike a tempting bargain with you.
Percy knew how in love you were with his mom's cupcakes. Sally Jackson made the best for the best. It had only taken one bite and he could already tell how head over heels you were with them. He might or might not be planning to try to make a batch himself as a surprise for your upcoming birthday, but he feared the baking talent of the greats did not pass onto him. These hands weren't only skilled in combat, but with a pair of mitts and an oven, they could also burn an entire kitchen down.
Still though. Seeing the way your eyes immediately lit up right now made him rethink his choices. Maybe burning down a room wasn't so bad. At least you would probably laugh at his pathetic attempt.
Your mouth split into a grin and he was brought back to the world. You shook your head in slight disbelief. "Bringing Mrs. Jackson cupcakes into this? You are not playing fair, Perce."
"That's a deal then?" He held out his hand for a shake.
You sighed, putting his hand in yours. "Fine, deal."
Percy tried to ignore the fireworks he felt as he gripped your hand tighter and pulled you up to stand. His heart felt like it was trying to push its way out of his ribs, but in a good way. Like a thrill.
"Alright, one more time," He said as he retrieved his sword and you retrieved yours. "You ready?"
"Honestly, I'm just doing this for the cupcakes now." Seriously, how much could one person make him smile in the span of five minutes?
You and Percy put on the helmets. He counted to three, and you started taking offense as he took defense. One, two, three. It all started out well. Your movements were still a bit clumsy, but you'd get better on it in no time, he was sure. And you were doing pretty good work too. That was until you were stepping back, trying to deflect his now offensive movements, and tripped over yourself. You fell to the hard ground with an oof.
Luckily, with your equipment still intact, you couldn't be hurt that much. But Percy immediately dropped riptide and got to your side.
He knew it was stupid. You and him were both warriors, you were good with a bow, he was good with a sword. Both of you had been injured multiple times in different kinds of battles, and yours had been more grotesque than his more than once, so this was absolutely nothing. Still, he guessed, the instinct to worry would just stay the same.
"Hey, are you okay?" He asked, as he gently pulled you up to a sitting position. His forehead was creased together as he looked at you, but you were instead laughing, finding your recent incident funny. "What?" He asked, couldn't help but let a laugh, albeit confused, out of his lips too. Yours were charmingly infectious.
You pointed at your face, your bronze helmet askew, voice still laced with traces of mirth. "Tell me, how silly do I look?"
He smiled, affection swarmed him. "Very silly," Should he risk it? "So silly, it's borderline annoyingly cute actually." Okay, risking it then.
But you just smiled, either welcoming it or oblivious to the actual meaning behind it. Probably the latter. You wouldn’t be convinced someone actually liked liked you even if it was plastered on a billboard. You pointed at his face, and laughed again, this time with an effort of covering your mouth. "You look so silly too, I'm sorry."
He shook his hand, bringing out a breath of laughter, unable to keep his smile from growing further under the protective gear. "Hey," he said, finally taking off his helmet and letting the wind touch his face. "It was in solidarity with you as a friend! Please appreciate it."
"I do!" You took off your helmet, letting the glow of the sun kiss your face again. Percy couldn't help but be entranced with the way you looked, still perfect even with the destroying searing weather of June. You couldn't keep doing this to him. "Sorry, I'll stop." You promised as you withdrew a laugh, but he actually wished you wouldn't. He loved hearing you laughed, it made the wind that danced around him a melodic thing, one he could be around forever—or whatever it was the poets said.
Looking at you made him understand what they were always talking and raving about, but he could never explain it.
"So," You began, "About those cupcakes?"
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phantomskeep · 3 months ago
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WIP Wednesday - Fun In Funeral
For my DCxDP Dead On Main thief!Danny fic, Putting The "Fun" Back In "Funeral". Best read while listening to Ascensionism by Sleep Token
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“I am not a cat boy!” The boy wearing a cat skull protested.
“Then what are you, a discount Catwoman?” Jason asked as he prowled closer to the pouting thief.
“I don’t even know who that is!” Cat Boy continued to lie. “This,” he gestured to the bone-colored mask covering his face, Lazarus green eyes narrowing in distaste, “Is a fashion statement. Nothing more, nothing less. I just- I don’t even know why it’s a cat!”
None of that really made sense to Hood, but keeping a criminal monologuing? Part of Robin 101 - the more they’re distracted, the better chance at them messing up. “So why a cat, then?”
“I just said I don’t know!”
Hood didn’t respond, catching the cat-themed-thief’s stance relaxing by a miniscule amount. With no hesitation, Jason lunged forward - fully intending to football-style tackle the pouting figure into the concrete roof.
In the next few seconds, Jason would recount later to the rest of the Birds and Bats, he had no idea what happened.
He was in the air - arms outstretched to wrap around the other’s torso in a mockery of a hug. He saw the thief’s eyes widen, a startled yelp leaving his mouth. When Hood flew closer to the occultly-dressed thief, it was like a rush of sparkling heat bubbled up through his lung, tearing viciously at his esophagus before laying stagnant in his covered mouth. Already caught off guard, Jason sputtered - failing to land the tackle onto the lithe man in front of him. Instead, Jason fell a few inches short of the man, on his knees with his gloved hands clutching desperately at his throat and chest.
The other didn’t hesitate to dance out of Hood’s reach as the helmeted vigilante coughed in a vain attempt to clear his airways from the heat-sparkle-power-danger that welled inside him. Not-Catwoman stood to the side, head cocked like a curious crow inspecting a shiny coin. While Hood was still doubled over catching his breath, the thief wisely used the opportunity to glide further out of reach.
“I’m almost scared to ask if you’re okay,” Catboy’s voice echoed around them. “But then again… You did just try to shoot me.”
“It was just a warning shot.” Hood coughed out, his words scratchy as he forced them past the invisible sludge that lodged itself in his throat. The Pit Rage stirred in the back of his mind, slowly creeping to the area it used to occupy and whisper. “Give back whatever you stole before I shoot you for real.”
The cloaked man rocked on his heels, jutting his hip out and tapping at his chin with a clothed finger. Hood couldn’t see Catboy’s full expression, but he had long since perfected the art of reading masked individuals when he was thirteen and still wearing Dick’s old scaly panties. The person in front of him was practically radiating smug little sibling vibes.
“How about,” the modulated voice drew out. “I don’t, and I continue on with my extremely successful handjob!”
Jason spluttered in confusion, caught halfway between howling in laughter or rage, as the cat-themed thief jumped off the museum’s roof. The sound of a grapple rang out as the little criminal soared into the polluted Gotham skies. The Rage screamed, pushing Jason’s limbs to take off without a second thought. Green overcame his vision as the high came tearing back in full force, dragging Jason down like a man caught in an undertow. His body gave chase to the masked individual running from the museum, racing across the darkened rooftops in hot pursuit.
The Pit Rage stuck its greedy claws into Jason’s mind and pulled. What happened around him became a green-tinted blur - flying after the thief’s form, firing pot shots when the two were parkouring along the Gotham skyline, a strained voice shouting as the bullets missed. The overwhelming sensation of rage-rage-chase-friend-predator-rage-fight-fear-play-rAGE drowned out any sense of rational thought. It was like Jason was in the backseat again, watching as he lost control of his life as the choices he made as a teen came back to haunt him in divine punishment. He fought against it, just like he did when the Rage took his body to the Titans Tower. Like when he was so beneath the power of the Pit that he took out everything on a highschool kid. All the progress he had made over the last three years - washed away because of a man in a catsuit.
The mere hours he had of quiet peace almost made fighting against the Rage so much harder - Jason knew what it was like again, to not have to battle against his own thoughts every second of the day. To not look at a single act of kindness as some convoluted plot to trap him like a feral, rabid dog. The void in his chest, a grief-stained black hole of bad decisions, warred with the Rage for its own spot in the young man’s own tale of self-sought retribution against himself.
This? This was Jason’s own personal hell. To be alone, trapped inside his mind, while his body was controlled by a green-tinted monster. When his actions were no longer dictated by himself and the worst parts of him came out to play.
When Jason finally wrestled back control, kicking and screaming and fighting his own thoughts like it was the only thing he knew how to do, he found himself leaning against someone’s rooftop greenhouse, alone. The cloaked thief was nowhere in sight, and the ex-crime lord hesitated against nosing around for hints of where he might have absconded off to.
Based on a familiar stretch of cargo cranes, he deduced that he ended up between Gotham University and the docks. The black-haired man took a moment to himself, checking to see how many rounds he had fired (eight, he had emptied an entire clip, because of course he did) and if there was any blood clinging to his uniform (not his, never his, why was it never him–). When he wasn’t able to find anything, Jason forcefully shook out his body, trying to get rid of the built-up tension and stress. It helped him relax, marginally, but did nothing for the painful pressure behind his eyes pounding in time with his heart. The Pit Demon lounged in the back of his brain, oozing an air of self-satisfaction that made Jason want to claw at his own head until it stopped.
“Fuck,” he muttered, shoulders sagging. This entire situation was… not good. Jason didn’t even want to think about talking to the rest of the Bats about this, but. It had been a long time since an episode that bad. He didn’t know if he could control himself if something else set him off, but he wasn’t prideful enough to risk innocent people to a Rage-filled Red Hood.
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latetaektalk · 8 months ago
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He(art) thief is one of the best stories i ever read..its so good!! Please continue it if you can..no pressure tho, its already perfect ❤❤❤❤you are an amaizng writer
ahh thats so sweet of you to say!! (he)art thief is really dear to my heart since its based on my favourite films, the ocean's series!! hopefully i will one day find the motiviation to get back into it and write it all out!
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