#he’s very sweet but yells when he’s not getting attention
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Haywire
Contains: Eddie Munson & Reader, fluff, sincerity, vulnerability, friends to something more
🦇 ✏️ 🦇
You were just friends. Just hanging out. And you’d thought there would be more people around tonight as human buffer BUT NO it was just you and him in his living room. And he was sitting so close it made you dizzy.
Ope.
He caught you staring. Your gaze was lovingly drifting over his stunning features and when he noticed you looking, his eyebrows shot up.
He waved his hand in a slow figure eight, wiggling his fingers - like he was casting some sort of spell on you.
Maybe he was casting a spell on you? It would explain a lot.
“You okay in there?” He laughed. He snapped the fingers of his left hand a couple times and you must have jumped because then he snorted “Sorry, sorry! You zoned out, though...like...you left me, where’d you go?” He grinned at you, head cocked to the side.
“I’d never leave. I mean I’m paying attention, What is the next step?” You asked, trying to re-focus and NOT on his lips, or his jaw, or the length of his thick pretty neck that you so wanted to kiss and lick and bite down on …oh gawd... how you wanted to taste him all over!
He narrowed his eyes at you. “Ya sure you wanna do this? Right now?? It’s okay if you are bored. This is not the fun part for most folks.”
“Yeah! NO - I’m not bored.” You clutched your notebook to your chest and regulated your breathing. No more yelling FFS you told yourself. ” I told you - I’ve wanted to play DnD for a long time and you know… never got a chance to even roll up a character. The stars just weren’t aligned for it I guess and the group near me didn’t want me in the mix....”
“Well, that’s not a problem here. There won’t be any of that bullshit on my watch. There’s Equal opportunity for doom or glory in Hellfire Club.” Eddie let the words doom and glory rumble in his chest. Theatrical as ever.
“Thank you.” You smiled and felt heat flush your cheeks.
“You’re so welcome, you always are.” he shook his mane of hair and chuckled again, wry and self-effacing. Which you would NEVER have expected from this guy. When you were introduced to him he was cocky as hell, strutting around and getting right into your personal space and teasing you like you’d been close friends forever and then - you get him alone like this- and he transforms into this sweet and modest and shy… total gentleman.
You were so completely fucked.
I mean, if only. You wished you were. But this was all so sadly gentlemanly and platonic.
He licked his lips and tapped his pencil on the DM’s guide while he pondered something seriously. Your mouth watered. And since he was so intently not paying attention to you- you took him in - looked him all over.
Your lips felt suddenly so dry and hot and his lips were the cure for every little thing that afflicted you, you knew this. That his perfect lips were the Answer. They were pink, slightly redder and chapped and plumped by his own teeth worrying at his bottom lip and… oh he was speaking to you. Focus.
“But maybe we should wait till later?? Because you seem very baked right now.” Eddie took your pencil away from you, grinning. Your pencil that had made its way (eraser first) between your lips and was getting bitten to hell. “Sweetheart, It was just a beer and we shared that joint…Did you not eat anything today??” He looked mildly concerned. “Do you want a snack or something? Coffee? I think we have Sanka in the cupboard… although what would be the point....”
You shook your head. No.
You didn’t admit it but You were not high. Or tipsy.
That was the thing. Eddie did this to you.
Yes, you’d faked taking that hit off his joint — hoping to look very chill about him offering you one. You’d barely taken a sip of the PBR he’d offered.
You Didn’t need any single thing to make you feel as high as THIS. When you had those big pretty eyes looking at you?? You were floating!
His lashes fluttered when he inhaled, held in the smoke, and then his eyes stared into your soul when he blew out (blowing away from your face - politely) and that just made you want to do unspeakably depraved things. For him. To him. On him.
“We could just… hang out.” Eddie said. “Plenty of time to make a character before next Wednesday and stuff.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. we don’t need to have an activity to be ummm together, you can just ride that wave you are on and I’ll... play guitar at you or something.” He looked down again and huffed almost a laugh. “Obviously you don’t want That, no one wants that, but we could watch a movie....”
The overhead light cast the shadow of his lashes down over his cheekbones.
“I’d like to hear you play and sing one of your songs.” You said.
“Oh no no no,” Eddie leaned backwards and put his hands behind his head, legs spread at the knees - making you long to climb into his lap “I don’t know who told you I can sing... but they were exaggerating... I can scream my lyrics in my less than an octave range.”
“But you are the frontman, you play and sing lead, right??”
“That’s only until we can get Gareth a better mic set up - he’s got a great voice - like an angel.”
“I still want to hear you.” You crossed your arms over your chest and nodded. “c’mon”
“You know what? I think I like this bossy side of you. Is this what happens when you loosen up a bit, you order people around?” Eddie smirked. “It makes me want to do whatever you say.”
“Really?” You asked, your mind reeling at the impossibilities.
“Yes.” Eddie’s tongue rolled over one canine tooth. He pointed at you. “Don’t use your power over me for evil.”
You may have gasped. Just a little.
“Or do.” Eddie scootched closer and his knee touched yours. “Just don’t get me in trouble.”
“Show me what you wear on stage.” You said. Well... demanded.
“It’s not that different than this...” He gestured down at his ripped jeans and his Anthrax T shirt under his gray hoodie. “No corpse paint, no tight leather - we’re thrash - more substance than style. Noooo, don’t look at me all disappointed...I’m just not fancy.” He rubbed his hands over his face.
“I’m not disappointed, i just really doubt you play your fancy red crackle finish guitar... in a gray sweatshirt.”
“Okay, I wear a tank top or something cropped because it’s hot as balls on stage and I pull my hair back sometimes or put my bandana on to keep the sweat from dripping in my eyes, that’s the sum total effort I put in okay? you don’t Really want to hear about me sweating my ass off, right?? Grossing you out, right?”
“No. are you gonna show me or not.”
“Yes. mistress, if you take that tone I guess I must.” Eddie slapped his thighs and stood, “Be right back.” He turned half way down the hall. “If you laugh, you gotta go. You’ll be out that door, high or not.”
He shook his head as he retreated down the hallway and then in a few minutes he emerged with his hair up in a loose bun.
He did a slow awkward turn for you. He was in a scissor cropped Megadeth shirt, with his pretty red guitar unfortunately, blocking your view of his stomach. As he turned you could ogle the curve of his back - see how his underwear - probably cotton boxers - were visible just above his jeans and belt.
“See.... not much to write home about. Functional, though. Practical.” He shrugged.
“You look hot.” you said. without thinking.
Eddie gave you an assessing look. “That’s probably the ganja talking. Or did you mean I look overheated, because yeah, it’s a little warm in the trailer but...”
For some reason this made you furious. “No. You look fucking hot, Eddie! You always look hot and I’m not fucking high. C’mere.”
His eyes went wide, he unslung his guitar and leaned it gently against a chair. “Okay... mistress.” He jumped over the coffee table and sat at the edge of the couch - leaning forward. Leaning towards you - at attention. “Any other demands?” he wasn’t being sarcastic though...
“At shows, you should crop your shirts higher, you should go commando under your jeans “ you snapped the elastic of his underwear. “…and you should not invite me over when no one else is around because apparently I go a little haywire when we are alone together.”
Eddie leaned in and kissed you. A kiss like spun sugar, ephemeral, impossibly sweet, and over too soon.
“I go a little haywire when you are near me too.” He said.
#eddie munson#eddie munson fluff#briar writing#friends to lovers#Eddie Munson x Reader#writing cotton candy fluff and putting it into the tumblr water#first kiss
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If nobody got me, I know this tummy got me 👏
#tummy time#his name is Oreo and he is DOUBLE STUFFED#big boy#so lucky to have a cat that loves when I rub his big soft belly#he’s very sweet but yells when he’s not getting attention#mine#video#cat
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Hi!! Could you please write something for Spencer where r is used to men being like really loud and rough and all that (maybe bc of her father or smth) and just her getting used to how gentle Spencer is and almost thinking it’s too good to be true?
Thank you for requesting angel <3
Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 905 words
It happens when you’re still half asleep. You fumble for your phone on Spencer’s nightstand, your alarm chiming, and knock a picture frame off instead. You’re fully awake by the time you hear the sound of glass shattering against the floor.
You mumble a curse. Spencer hums questioningly into his pillow.
You get down from the bed, managing to step over the glass, but you’re not thinking clearly enough. When you sink onto your knees, little shards prick the skin. You pick the frame up carefully. It’s a picture of Spencer and his mom. An old one, of her chasing a three or four-year-old Spencer around someone’s yard. They’re both laughing, her arms outstretched towards him and his face turning to look over his shoulder. It’s obviously a sentimental photo.
Your cursing intensifies, though you keep it internal now. You feel awful.
Spencer’s head appears over the edge of the bed as you’re scraping the glass into a pile. His eyes are half-open, expression still weighted with drowsiness.
“What happened?” he asks.
There’s no accusation in his tone, but you feel suddenly teary. You haven’t fought with Spencer yet, and you weren’t expecting to be yelled at first thing this morning. You suppose you’ve earned it, though.
“Spence, I’m so sorry.”
“What are you doing?”
“I—I knocked over your picture. The frame broke. I feel awful, I’ll get you a new one o—or I can replace the glass if the frame is important to you.”
“What?” Spencer blinks, brows furrowed as though he’s having trouble grasping this. “No, it’s—stop. Don’t do that.”
You still, looking up at him hesitantly with your hands cupped around the glass pile. “What do you want me to do?”
“You can’t clean glass up with your hands.” He shuffles his way out from under the covers, taking a big step over the class to stand behind you. His hands wrap around your elbows. “Get away from there.”
His tone conveys some upset, but not nearly as much as you were prepared for. And his grip on your arms is gentle. You can’t make sense of it.
You let him guide you into the bathroom, sitting up on the counter when he prompts you. Spencer takes your hands in his, looking them over and brushing his fingers lightly across your palms before determining there’s no glass in them. His eyes skim you over. When they land on your knees, his expression pinches.
“Why did you do this?” You expect him to grasp your knee roughly, but his fingers wrap around it with care, thumb rubbing over the soft underside as though to soothe you.
“I wasn’t thinking,” you say softly. “I feel so bad about the picture with your mom, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Spencer sounds surprised. His eyes flit up to yours, soft brown, curious. “I can get a new frame. You didn’t need to hurt yourself.”
“Well, I didn’t do it on purpose.” Your voice drops to a murmur as Spencer bends down, opening a drawer to take out first aid supplies.
He pulls each tiny piece of glass from your knees with heart-aching care. One hand stays on the back of whichever knee he’s working on, to steady him and to comfort you, and it’s a slow, attentive, tender process. Gradually, a realization seeps into you.
Spencer isn’t going to blow up at you. Maybe someday, but not about this, not over just anything. You’re not sure how you could have been so expectant of someone who’s been nothing but kind and gentle with you turning harsh and forceful at the first upset.
You don’t even wince as Spencer cleans up your knees. He’s careful to give you no reason to, every touch considerate and sweet. He straightens after smoothing bandages over the cuts, still holding your lower thighs in his hands.
“That wasn’t a very nice way to wake up,” he says. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” you say, but you hold your arms out for a hug anyway.
Spencer’s happy to oblige you, his hips fitting between your legs and palms sliding across your back. He smells like sleep. You hook your chin over his shoulder, contentment filling your belly like warm honey.
“You seemed upset,” he murmurs, a question if you choose to answer it.
“I was nervous,” you admit. “I thought you’d be mad.”
“For knocking the frame over?”
“Mhm. I still feel really bad.”
Spencer draws a line between your shoulders. “Don’t feel bad. You didn’t do it on purpose.”
You hum. “You’re a lot less loud than most guys, do you know that?”
He pauses. “Is that a bad thing?”
“No.” You pull away from him, cradling his face in your hand. “I’m just not used to it, is all. I keep expecting you to yell at me, but that doesn’t seem like it’s really your thing.”
“I guess I don’t think of it as my thing,” Spencer agrees, mouth curving as he repeats your words. “My mom says I was always a quiet kid. I guess I just never thought yelling would get me anywhere.”
“Don’t start.” You grin, and his cheek dimples under your palm. “I like you like this.”
“Okay, I’ll try not to.” He tilts his face into your touch. His hands drop back to your knees, skimming down the unharmed sides next to the bandages. “And you shouldn’t get angry at yourself on my behalf anymore, either.”
#spencer reid#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid hurt/comfort#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid blurb#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid one shot#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader
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criminally hot | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,
summary - you get wrongfully accused by a sheriff, and it isn’t you who’s angriest. it’s your boyfriend who has to expose your relationship in order to clear you.
genre - spencer x bau!fem!reader, fluff, slight angst if u squint, angry reid x calm reader
wc - 1.2k
warnings - reader uses she/her pronouns, handcuffs, violence, a weird white man i know id be fucking scared as well, oh swearing as well.
a/n - i love u you’re so awkward i am doing so well bc of ur request, keep requesting things your brain is crazy. ummm anyways this is my first time writing this kinda thing omg how exciting okay start reading it wtf you still doing here?
request - ( from @babyoureahauntedhouse ) omg hii!!! :3 this is my first time requesting, so please excuse the awkwardness 😭😭😭😭 first of all, how are you????? i hope you’re doing amazing!!! absolutely no pressure, but can you do one where reader gets falsely arrested (not a huge thing, maybe in a police station at a small town or something) and spencer absolutely **loses** his shit at how she’s being treated????? like, she’s freezing and the sheriff or somethjng keeps pushing her and then he just bursts into the interrogation room and uncuffs her and it’s just very fluffy???? thank you!
Emily handed you your coffee with a smile, receiving a small thank you in return. It was warm in your hands and created a comforting contrast to the cool chill of the police precinct you were set up in.
Things were going well given that you’d only been in the small town for half a day. The team debriefed on the plane, but Aaron had been on the phone with the leading detective for at least an hour now asking him where he was.
Emily headed off to the restrooms when a slender hand made its way to your waist. You turned and felt your cheeks heat, knowing exactly who is was.
“Hi Spencer.”
“Hi Y/n.” His eyes held sweetness in the chocolate swirls, and you felt like a kid who had been given candy. Spencer and you had been dating for a few months, but somehow in a team of profilers you both kept things under wraps, even with Spencer’s clumsy touches and your lingering stares. “I wish we were home,” he whispered.
You glanced around for anyone who could witness your interaction and get suspicious, but you were mostly alone other than Hotch and some officers who were weirdly taking a lot of attention to you.
“Yeah me too. I’m feeling oddly popular and not in the good way.”
Before you could talk more or offer him a sip of your coffee (even if you know he doesn’t like it), Aaron calls his name and the slim tall boy scurries away with a straight face.
You turn to find something to do. To reread a case, to help someone fill out papers, to talk to Morgan or Garcia. You would’ve opted to huddling in your cardigan if a tall man didn’t interrupt.
“Y/n L/n?” He asked in monotone. His arms were at his sides, one hovering above a pair of cuffs that hung from his police belt. Furrowing your eyebrows you answered,
“Yes? What’s wrong?”
“You’re under arrest for the robberies of…”
His voice pounded into the background of your head, thoughts attacking your eyes through a sudden headache as the words registered before you could help it. The room was silent except for the man’s voice, yet all you could hear was the furrow of eyebrows and quick approach of your boss, Aaron Hotchner.
“What’s going on here?”
“Your agent has been seen…”
You stood still as another officer came behind you and forced handcuffs onto your arms, gripping your wrists with unnecessary force that would surely leave bruises. You winced and looked between your boss and the officer, and then at Spencer, who was being pulled back by Morgan. He yelled your name in worry, witnessing the hardened grips on your body and rough pushing you were being subject to. Your coffee splattered on the ground, staining your white shoes.
There was only mumbles and white noise, as your eyes met with Spencer’s. The large officer behind you kicked your leg to get you moving, the shock glueing your shoes to the rubbery floor. And you almost didn’t even notice the hand on the back of your neck pushing you towards a dark room with a desk and two chairs.
You were so familiar with these rooms and yet it felt so different.
Of course, you didn’t actually do anything. And of course you attempt to clear that up to the officers who are slamming their hands on the table and screaming as much as they could, in a poor attempt to intimidate you.
Aaron was in the corner with a scolding face and hard hand to his chin, observing the situation with an intensity you barely ever see.
“Last month, you were seen at one of the houses that got robbed over night. You left a few days later, after also being seen at two of the other houses-“
“So she was seen at three of the ten houses robbed and you arrest her?” Aaron spoke up, bringing the men’s attention to your boss instead of you. You took the opportunity to look outside of the window.
Though it wasn’t clear, you could make out the outline of a tall boy you wished would just break into the room and save you.
And he did.
“Your evidence is illogical and childish. She’s an FBI agent for gods sake-“
“Anybody can be a suspect Agent Hotchner, even federal agents.” The tall one replied with a stubborn mumbled.
Suddenly, the door was slammed open and you were met with a disheveled Spencer panting with a red and severe face. He didn’t even bother looking at you before he starting schooling the men in blue, who at that point were glaring at him and attempting to look more intimidating than they actually were.
“I’ve read your files on this case and nothing links to Y/n L/n, not one-“
“There’s no way you read our-“
“I can read more in a minute than you can in a day, dickhead. Y/n was meeting old school friends when she was in town, we went to the Diner Inn afterwards and we met with her parents who have receipts for the meals because they’re-“ he turned his glance at you,” “sorry Y/n- they’re hoarders. You have nothing against her other than some positively reported visits and some photos of her hugging the house owners.” Spencer had slowly pinned the officers to the opposite wall unconsciously. It was hot. “I was there, I’m her receipt. And like her parents, she loves keeping those. So if you want to insist she’s your culprit, go for it. But your going against a man with eidetic memory and a lot of evidence.”
And while he was logical and correct, he was also a little too truthful.
The officers blinked in fear. Spencer definitely didn’t seem the type to yell or swear, so this clear, concise and undermining approach to the situation was somehow even scarier.
“Spencer,” you began, “thank you.”
He looked at you, his expression softening into empathy and care, “Of course.” His hands found a key in his back pocket as he approached you, starting to promptly uncuff you.
As Aaron continued to speak with the officers of their major mistake, Spencer took you outside of the room and into a private office. Your heart was racing, but it seemed Spencer was more stressed than you. He paced as you leaned onto the front of a wooden desk, hands over your chest as your eyes trailed Spencer.
“I’m sorry, Y/n. I should’ve reacted faster, then you wouldn’t have been..” He stopped closely in front of you, his breath hot on yours as his gaze scoured over your body for injuries or bruises. “Are you okay?”
You smile calmly, “I’m fine. My leg hurts, and I think my wrists will be bruised, but I’m fine.”
He took your hands and rubbed his thumbs on your wrists carefully, causing butterflies to explode in your stomach.
“Thank you Spencer.” Your eyes dance with each others. “You were really hot. Maybe I need to get arrested more often.” You joke with a lift to your voice and a smirk, causing him to look down with a smile and shake his head.
“If being angry makes me hot maybe you should reevaluate what you-“
Your lips found his, you hand going to his bicep and his going to the back of your neck, before a clearing of the throat took you both out of your trances. It was Hotch.
“I’ve got some paperwork you both need to sign. About the arrest and,” his hand waved between you two, “this.”
Morgan stood behind Aaron with a smirk, leaving quickly to go tell Garcia that she had lost their bet.
taglist: @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es
#criminal minds#spencer reid#cm#criminal minds imagine#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid oneshot#criminal minds fluff#spencer reid fluff#🍵 —☆ pia’s pages
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We're Gonna Burn
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Word Count: 3K
Warnings: Smut, Sex Pollen, Non/DubCon (because sex pollen), enemies to lovers.
Summary: When an exposure to a strange powder makes you feel as if you're burning to death, your only relief is in the person you hate the most.
A/N: Special thanks to my beta reader @whisperlullaby
We're Gonna Burn Masterlist
“What the hell was that, Barnes?” You practically yell as you push open the front door of the safe house you’d been directed to.
“I don’t know! I’ve never seen anything like it. God, the smell!” He shakes his head.
“It’s burned into my nostrils. All I can smell is that sweet flower smell. You’ve never seen that pink powder?” You throw your things to the floor, looking around the small, remote house.
“No, I’d tell you if I did, damnit! Why do you keep asking?” Bucky growls.
“You’re not the most forthcoming person! Shit, I think you’ve spoken more in the last two minutes than in the three months I’ve known you! Jesus, fuck, I’ve gotta get rid of this smell. I’m so fucking hot,” your voice gets smaller as you speak. You can’t think straight but head towards the bathroom, unzipping your tac suit and pulling it from your arms as you go. You slam the door and lock it. You turn the cold water on full blast and nearly fall over in your haste to get your suit off. The frigid spray helps for a few moments and you revel in it, but soon another type of heat begins to take over. Your clit throbs and when you place your hand between your legs, your wetness coats your fingers. The shower stops bringing relief and instead, the water coursing down your body seems to only make you hornier. You give in to the need that takes hold and circle your clit. It feels amazing and it takes only a couple of minutes for your orgasm to break over you. You bite your lip to hold in the moans, not wanting the asshat on the other side of the door to hear you.
Your body has a moment of relief but then the heat builds again, even quicker this time. You dip your fingers inside of you in a desperate attempt to stop it. The second orgasm you managed to pull did little to help your body and your fingers keep working furiously to bring another in hope of relief. Your moans are spilling from your lips without a care now. You just need to get this to stop. You’re disturbed when the door rattles and a fist bangs loudly.
“Open the door! I need to get in there,” Bucky bellows.
You wanted to scream at him to go away but you could barely form words. You hated the stupid supersoldier from the moment you met him. He questioned your every turn. Whether it was about your skill, experience, or motives. He never lets you get through a single conversation without making you feel like a lesser part of the team.
“Goddamnit, let me in!” He yells more loudly.
Nothing your hand was doing was helping any longer. You couldn’t think straight and, before you can make a move or form a thought, the door splinters open from a kick. A very naked Bucky comes through the door and your eyes widen as you see his cock standing at attention. He steps into the spray of the cold shower and growls. His hand works his cock furiously while his other rests on the tiles. His head falls forward as he lets the cold water fall down his back. You stand behind him, your hand still between your legs.
“Fuck, what’s happening to us?” you whimper as you lean your feverish forehead onto his back. The cool water does nothing to help but where your skin touches his tingles with relief. Abandoning all pride, you press your entire body to his and the fever seems to cool wherever you touch but your clit throbs even harder. Your cunt weeps, begging for attention.You rub yourself against him, your nipples pebbling at the contact with his back.
With a growl, Bucky turns around and you quickly back up to press your back against the wall of the shower. He stares at you, breathing hard.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble in your haze, “I don’t know what’s happening. I’m so hot and-”
You gasp as Bucky bends down, grabs your legs, and drags you up the tiles. You squeal and reach for any handhold as he puts your legs over his shoulders and attacks your clit with his tongue.
“Oh, fuck!” You scream as one hand lands on the ceiling to help you balance and the other buries in his hair. His tongue swirls over your clit expertly. His hands squeeze your ass as he gorges himself on you. It doesn’t take long for you to buck your hips as you come all over his face. As he sets you down, you squeeze your thighs together but your body simply screams that it wants more. You stare at each other, breathing heavily. “It’s not working. Nothing helps,” you whimper, tears forming. It’s obvious by watching him that this is affecting him almost as much as you. His supersoldier serum must be helping him but he was burning just the same.
Bucky sighs as he steps closer to you. He presses his forehead to yours with his eyes closed and whispers, “I think there’s only one thing that’s going to help.”
You put your arms around his neck, “Just do it!” You wrap a leg around his to encourage him and he lifts you up. He presses your back into the wall as he lines himself up with your entrance. He paused there for a second as if he was fighting himself. “Please, Barnes, please! I need it!” You can’t believe you’re begging the man you hate to fuck you but your body was demanding it and if he didn’t you were sure you would burn to death. If you had been thinking straight, you would probably prefer to burn but, at this moment, you wanted nothing more than to be filled.
“Goddamnit,” he whispers as he presses in. Your body bows with pleasure.
“Yes! Yes!” Your voice reverberates off the tile walls as you shout with relief. He begins to pump and your body trembles with each motion of his cock. He grabs your ass as he pounds into you and you know he’s as lost in the meeting of your bodies as you are. Your cunt flutters around him, pulling him in, begging for him to come inside of you. Your rational mind has gone completely silent and you are filled with only carnal lust. Every motion of his hips takes you higher and it’s all you want. “Don’t stop,” you grip his shoulders harder.
“Fuck,” Bucky grunts. He couldn’t stop if he wanted to and, truth was, this was the best thing he’d felt in a long time.
“Oh, God, oh, God, I’m- yes!” You release a long, high-pitched moan as you come. Your pussy grips his cock as his hips stutter. He comes with a long moan that makes you clench around him more firmly. You stay there for a few moments, catching your breath, and blessedly your body finally starts to cool. You release your legs from around his waist and he gently sets you down. You can’t look at him and instead maneuver yourself back under the cold spray. You rinse off quickly and step out of the shower. Wrapping yourself in a towel, you exit the bathroom to find your pack and some clothes. While you rifle through your pack, you feel your temperature creeping up again and then you double over from the intense wave that rolls over you. “No, no, not again,” you whisper to yourself. You look over to the broken bathroom door where Bucky still is and consider your options. Sex had given you the relief you needed but it was short lived. Your mind runs amuck with questions. What the hell was that powder? What was it doing to you? How long would this last? How many times would it take to stop this heat from trying to burn you alive? Was sex really the only relief you would find? Another pang hit and knocked the breath from your body. You were gasping in pain when an arm picked you up around your middle.
He was still wet from the shower and hadn’t bothered to dry off. The pains had hit him and he went to the only place he knew he could find relief. He carried you to the small bed in the house and set you down on your hands and knees. He grips your hips tightly and pauses for a moment as another rush of heat spreads over him, “I need-”
“Just do it,” your words come out in a rush, pressing back into him.
He enters you without preamble. Pulling you back to meet each motion of his hips, his moans give evidence of the pleasure and relief that the connection brings. You reach under you to play with your clit, trying to bring your orgasm on more quickly. Each of Bucky’s swift thrusts has you crying out with pleasure and he moves your hand away to bring you to orgasm himself. He wanted to feel you clench around him as you had before.
“Oh, fuck, just like that,” you whine, “Just like that, don’t- don’t stop, oh, fuck.”
Bucky moans as he feels your cunt flutter around his cock with your orgasm. The sounds you release are a hit straight to his cock and he comes hard, thrusting with each spurt into you. Breathing heavily, you both collapse on the bed. You lay on your side facing away from him while taking stock of your body. The relief you felt with your orgasm was short lived as heat began to build again after only a few minutes.
You feel like crying as your body radiates waves of heat. You turn over to face Bucky. He is lying on his back, his metal arm slung over his eyes, and his right hand fisting his hard cock. You make your decision quickly. Pulling his hand away, you straddle him and guide his cock inside of you. You move your hips slowly, hoping that perhaps if you stretched out the sex, it would keep the pain at bay longer. His hands grip your thighs as you rock slowly, his head is thrown back with eyes tightly closed. You looked at him for a moment and still couldn't believe that of all the teammates this could happen with, it had to be this asshole. When you first met him, you thought he was hot as fuck but as his personality (or lack there of) reared it’s ugly head you found him less and less attractive. Your anger at the situation grew as you rode him and you found yourself leaning forward, chasing your orgasm to just get this over with.
“Oh, fuck,” Bucky bucks up into you, causing you to cry out. He repeats the motion over and over again until your body spasms around him. He comes with a grunt as he watches your face contort with pleasure. You collapse on his chest without looking at him. You wondered if keeping your bodies connected would keep the heat from returning.
“Are you okay?” Bucky asks softly.
You sigh weakly as you felt the now familiar warmth beginning to spread, “I was hoping…” You let out a frustrated grunt, “I was hoping if we stayed touching it would be enough. But it’s starting again.”
“Yeah, me, too,” Bucky acknowledges his own heat building. “It’s gonna be okay.”
“You don’t know that. You can’t know that,” you grouse.
“I think… I think this might be a pheromone or something Hydra created to force procreation. I heard of the experiments but they abandoned it when it didn’t produce the results they wanted.”
“Which was?” You ask as your hips make slow circles. You can feel his cock quickly hardening inside of you.
“Naturally born supersoldiers,” Bucky strains out the words.
“So, we’re gonna have sex until we die or what?”
“Usually wore off in a few hours but until then…” he trails off as he gots lost in the sensations.
“Fuck,” you groan, partially out of frustration, partially from the pleasure his thick cock was producing.
“Basically,” Bucky says and you surprise yourself by laughing at the droll comment. You are even more surprised a second later when Bucky rolls you under him. He buries his face in your neck as he pulls your leg up higher and thrusts. You throw your head back as the pleasure begins to build again.
“Harder,” you whimper.
Bucky complies immediately and you whimper with each stroke. Grabbing onto him, you get lost in the feeling of his cock pounding into you sharply. You were glad that he at least was decent at this. Or was it that whatever the damn contaminant was made everything feel amazing? You were getting close with the steady way he fucked you and words started to pour out of your mouth. You were usually quite vocal in bed but hadn’t wanted to give Bucky the satisfaction. Now, you couldn’t stop yourself.
“Oh, god, it’s so good. Don’t stop, right there. It’s so fucking good. Oh, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna- fuck!” You let out a loud moan as you come hard and Bucky’s hips work even faster as he nears his own end. When he comes on a broken cry, your body revels in the feeling of him emptying himself in you.
The rational side of your brain sounded far away but was still screaming at the situation. In a moment of it managing to take hold, you push Bucky off of you and roll away from him. Breathing heavily, you pray that this is over. Surely, this was enough to satisfy anything. You will yourself to stay cool, to not allow the heat to return, to hold onto any shred of sanity you can find, but despite it all, the heat built again. You felt like screaming but you knew that nothing you did would help. You turn back to Bucky and say frustratedly, “Ready for another round?” You can’t meet his eyes but you knew neither of you could handle the pain and heat. You needed each other.
Bucky turns to you, “Hey.” He waits, wanting you to look him in the eyes but you just stare at his chest. “Hey.”
“What?” You say waspishly, still refusing to meet his gaze.
“Never mind,” he says as he grabs you and pulls your back against his chest. His cock nudges you from behind and you maneuver your hips to allow him entry. His thrusts are quick and sharp but his fingers on your clit are pure magic. He’s learned your body quickly but instead of leading you straight to orgasm this time, he works you to the precipice and then backs off repeatedly. You understood what he was trying to do. He was trying to prolong the sex in hopes of not having to come inside you any more than he already had but it was as if your body only got angrier with each denial.
“It’s not working! Just let me come!” You finally cry out, your frustration having reached its breaking point.
“Say it,” Bucky growls.
You wrack your muddled brain trying to grasp what he wants and latch on to the only word you can find, “Please!”
“No, say my name.”
You would normally reel angrily at a command from him but the effects this powder had on you makes you compliant from need. You stutter as your tongue tries to cooperate, “B- Barnes.”
“No,” he says darkly, “Say it.”
“Bucky,” you grind the word out through your teeth. You had never once called him that. It had always been some variant of his last name. You felt even more vulnerable now.
Bucky doesn’t utter a word but he moves his hips faster and his fingers do their job. When you finally come, your whole body spasms and you scream. The sound was foreign to your ears but the orgasm just kept going. You fluttered around Bucky’s cock, milking him of cum. You stay in that position for the next two rounds of sex. Then you got on top again to give Bucky a break but this time you faced away from him. You couldn’t look at him. When you had rode him to two orgasms and yourself to utter exhaustion, he turned you on your stomach to fuck you again. You lost count of the number of times you had sex. More orgasms than you’d ever had in your life were accomplished and you didn’t have any clue how many times he came. You fucked until you both passed out.
Waking up fourteen hours later, you felt as if you had the worst hangover you’d ever experienced. You glance at the spot Bucky had been in but he was gone. On the table by the bed was a couple of bottles of water, a protein bar, and a bottle of pain reliever. You raised your eyebrow at the items but just shrugged as you tore into all of them. You notice your pack is by the bed and you get up to put clothes on. The first thing you notice is the soreness between your legs but really your whole body hurts. You listen for a moment but don’t hear anything in the house. Peeking out the door, you see the empty living room and slip into the bathroom. You shower quickly, trying not to remember what happened in the small space just yesterday.
You jump when a knock sounds while you are dressing. You call out, “Yes?”
“Exfil will be here in five minutes,” Bucky says through the broken door.
“I’ll be right out,” you say. Your stomach is in knots. You can’t imagine facing him after everything. Would he act like nothing happened or gloat like the asshole he is? You wonder if you will ever be able to look him in the face again. You look at yourself, surprised that you still look the same as you did yesterday because you know you’ll never be the same again. But you didn’t have time to dwell on that. Now, you had a jet to catch.
Part 2
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#bucky barnes#bucky#marvel#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes x reader#avengers#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes x you#captain america#the winter soldier#the winter solider#winter soldier#winter soldier x reader#winter solider#bucky fic#sex pollen#smut#bucky barnes drabble#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes reader insert#bucky barnes series#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x reader smut#james buchanan barnes#bucky x female reader#bucky x y/n
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Steve is that kind of high school teacher that changes the lives of his students. He's attentive and kind, always offers them support the best he can.
They love him! No surprises there.
So it's the end of the semester and they want to thank him for everything he does.
It's a whole thing. Steve walks into class and he can tell everyone is buzzing with anticipation. One of the girls comes forward, she's very sweet and Steve remembers helping her coming to terms with her sexuality.
Remembers giving her advice when she wanted to come out to her parents. Jane has this big smile on her face and starts telling him how the whole class is grateful for him and how they wanted to give him something different.
She tells him they noticed his favorite band.
Steve is not obvious about it, but the clues were there.
One time he showed up wearing that band's t-shirt. Another student remembers walking into class while Steve was singing along to one of their songs while it blasted on his phone.
And the biggest clue of it all was Steve's phone wallpaper.
Steve blushes when they say that
He dips his head and everyone laughs.
"I don't blame you, he's really hot!" Yells another student from the back and everyone laughs again.
Steve groans, but offers them a soft smile.
"So we tried getting you tickets for their show but it's sold out!" Jane says.
"Oh that's ok," Steve says. "I appreciate the gesture."
She then explains they couldn't give up.
"Someone said we should reach out to their team and explain the situation."
"Oh?"
"Yeah! So I did. And they were pretty cool about it, said they would love to have you there."
And then she proceeds to give him an envelope. Steve opens it to find a single ticket and a poster he's seen a million times.
In big, bold letters the name of the band is written on top. 'Corroded Coffin'.
"Oh, thank you," Steve says and everyone is clapping and cheering
And is all so silly that he can't help but smile.
"They couldn't give two, though, so I guess you're going to have to go alone Mr. Harrington."
Jane says apologetically and Steve waves her off.
"It's fine."
"Maybe you'll meet someone there!"
And since they are high schoolers they all cheer louder, saying all sorts of things about Steve finally meeting someone and Steve blushes.
He'll go to the concert, of course. He'll thank them for the rest of the year.
And he'll have to make Eddie promise to never tell them the truth.
Maybe he'll tell them he's married, eventually. Has been for a long time and that's why he has that picture of him as his wallpaper.
He cannot believe his husband actually read that email from his students and happily went along with it. The bastard.
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★ Hickeys
ೃ⁀➷do they suck (lol) at hickeys, giver or receiver?, how? all answered down below by your beloved Tomie✨
ೃ⁀➷Psss this is a head-canon, take it lightly~
ೃ⁀➷ Suggestive, implied f!reader, NSFW language
ೃ⁀➷ monster trio + Law+ Ace
: ̗̀➛ Luffy
He’s the type to receive them more than to give
When he realizes he has hickeys, he’s just gonna wonder how it’s even possible and if smth hit his neck during a fight💀
Probably gonna bug Chopper about it, until he brushes him off mentioning it’s nothing
Then when you’re making out and you linger on his neck, it clicks into his mind. He yells a « ooohh, It was you! » after realizing that, it surprises you and you almost bit his skin-
He’s down to try it when you explain that you want them on you too
« You want me to suck your skin a little until it bruises? A bit like when you bruise after a fight? »
« Ugh… not the same but you got the spirit? »
He’s dense, but he tried and he didn’t do as bad as you thought
: ̗̀➛ Law
LMAO?? Wouldn’t he be the type to lowkey hit you with a scientific facts that hickeys can kill you if done wrong🤓😭
Ik he would. Im so sorry😮💨
On another note, tbh I feel like he’s just sooo into it, when his mind is fogged by lust. He will be making out with you and damn, he’s now leaving wet kisses all over your neck. That itself, just awaken some type of possessive strike and you’re left with hickeys a bit everywhere.
Will quietly eye them when y’all are cuddling after sex. He won’t comment on it beside if you point them out.
“They look great.”
It would be the most reaction you will get out of him. He’s so hot though- intrusive thoughts but they are real 😔
He doesn’t mind at all if you leave some on him fr. Like if it’s done within the right vibe and y’all are just kicking it and you’re riding him or y’all in lotus position, he might even groan and moan a little louder and curse under his breath.
: ̗̀➛ Sanji
Oh his mouth is ALLL OVERR your body. He’s kissing, praising, leaving hickeys all over your body. On you chest, between your thighs, on you collarbone.
He’s almost in a trance while he loves your body and mark it. He’s gotta to enjoy his pretty lover and you bet he’s gonna make it known that you are his and he’s the lucky man who has you!!
He’s so sweet about it, with sweet compliments, but it’s a bit messy too. Wet patches, mumbles from his muffled lips.
He’s SOOOOO down if you wanna do it on him. He gets very excited and can’t stop smiling and touching your body.
“Yes of course I’m down! Wanna try it rn? We got time yk..”
Best boy 🤧
ೃ⁀➷ Zoro
His neck always has some hickeys from you. He thought he hated it, but he quickly got over it and finds it hot now.
He doesn’t care too much if someone stare at them, but he will throw a curse out with a deadpan expression, if someone made a snarky comment.
He also has this possessive strike, so you bet you’re gonna have some type of bruises-hickeys on your body after y’all are done. Because he doesn’t go easy on you, he will be thrusting deep into you, while silencing you with his fingers deep in your mouth. Along with that, his mouth is nibbling on you neck and all your sensitive spots.
It’s an overstimulating mess.
He smirks satisfied when he sees you marked up, moaning his name and completely lost into his touch.
ೃ⁀➷ Ace
Oh, this man here has the biggest possessive strike out of all the men here.
I touched on the subject a little on my NSFW head canon, but he definitely love giving them. He whines when you do, because he’s apparently allergic to shirts and get slightly annoyed when each of his friends on the ship makes some jokes.
He loves that everyone knows you’re his. Because he gets to have one person for him, that actually feels love toward him and someone he can trust??! That’s the life prize!
Every time he fucks you, he makes sure that hickeys are created everywhere on your body.
He will shower you with attention and cocky comments as he sucks on to your skin.
It’s his specialty😮💨
#one piece#one piece headcanons#tomiewrites🌷#one piece x reader#portgas d ace#one piece zoro#zoro headcanons#portgas ace x you#ace one piece#portgas ace smut#ace smut#luffy smut#luffy x reader#sanji headcanons#sanji smut#sanji fluff#traflagar law smut#law smut#law headcanons#law x reader#sanji x reader#ace sabo luffy#luffy fluff#zoro smut#zoro fluff#zoro imagines#portgas d ace smut#one piece smut
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Forbidden
Synposis ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪
The new teaching assistant is too hot for his own good, distracting most of the girls in your class.You're not too bothered by him, he's just another pretty face- until you get pulled by him for failing the class. It's every girls wet dream, getting taught by the hot new teacher- and you find yourself slowly falling into a sickly sweet situation.
Warnings ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪
Age gap, inappropriate touching, arguments, angst, eventual smut, obsession, hidden relationship, public sex.
Word count ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪
2.8 k
Add yourself to my tag list | Masterlist
I II III IV V
By the next week, you’re a flurry of emotions. Mostly, you’re nervous.
Nail bitingly nervous.
You’re not sure how it’s got this bad, to the point where you’re scared to attend your own class- but you’ve been in this for three years now, and you’re not about to give up at the last stretch.
You refuse. You’d be damned if you let a man get in the way of your dream, your degree or anything you wanted to achieve.
You wrap your denim coat around you, teeth lightly chattering as you make your way over to the classroom.
“Hey, wait up,” you turn, looking over your shoulder. It’s a guy, you’re pretty sure is from your class, but you don’t really pay enough attention to know for certain.
He smiles at you as he catches up and you can see his breath in the cold dark morning. “I uh, I just wanted to say hi,” he says and you raise an eyebrow. This was doing absolutely nothing for you.
You round the corner to class in an awful silence, thankful when you see Molly waiting there for you, coffee in hand. Her head practically snaps towards the guy walking next you, but you just shake your head as you walk up to her.
“Good morning beautiful, coffee?” She asks, holding yours out while evil eyeing the guy stood half in the doorway, waiting.
“Who is that?” Molly whisper yells, taking a sip from her coffee, eyes never leaving him. You shrug, warming your hands on your own.
“Not a clue, he just wanted to say hi apparently,”
“That’s a shame,” Molly begins, raising her voice. “Too bad you’re spoken for,” both eyebrows raise as you look over your shoulder, seeing the guys shoulders slump as he enters the classroom. Your ears are scarlet red from the cold, but also the embarrassment.
You’d kinda forgot Rafe existed until Molly said that, and now you were back to feeling all nervous and shitty about going into class.
Molly grins, linking her hand into your own as she leads you into the classroom too, seeing the guy sat at the very back, at the top. You don’t give him much thought, mind already clouded with rafe, when you both take a seat on the bottom row again.
Speaking of- Rafe is sat at his desk, legs crossed onto the desk, head in a book. He’s got a blue knitted sweater on and some dark dress pants on.
“He looks yummy,” Molly whispers, nudging your arm. You sigh, observing the way he thumbs the page at the top of the book. With the way you were acting, anyone would think that you were as in love with him as the next person.
With that, you weren’t sure.
The last few students flutter into class and you look around, not spotting Kendra. Her minions are here, but no top bimbo.
Rafe closes his book, a noise you notice immediately as you turn back around, to see his eyes already boring into your own- for what feels like forever, like he’s trying to read you, before he looks away, smiling and clearing his throat.
“Welcome in guys, don’t worry, I’ve got the heating on,” a few laughs come from around the room as Rafe moves from around his desk to come stand at the front of it.
“So, we’re nearing the end of this first chunk of content- so I thought I’d give you an actual test this time. See how you’re all doing. Yes, you will be graded.” A chorus of groans.
You watch as Rafe crosses his arms over his chest and despite the sweater, you can still see his biceps- flexing as he laughs at everyone’s pity party. He reaches behind him, grabbing an even thicker stack of paper compared to the last one, and begins handing them out. He throws two on your table for you and Molly before moving onwards, not even giving you a second look.
“What was that?” Molly asks and you shrug, completely confused yourself.
“Okay guys,” Rafe begins as he stands back at the front of the class. “You get sixty minutes. No more, no less, starting now.”
The classroom falls silent as you open the first page of the paper, the material completely engraved in your mind. It doesn’t take you long to get halfway through the paper, trying to remember that you have to explain more how you got your answer, when someone taps you on the shoulder.
You turn, seeing the girl behind you beckoning hushed with a note, trying to do so without Rafe seeing. You take it, confused as you briefly look around the room. The guy from earlier slightly waves at you, grinning as he mouths for you to open it.
You turn back, cheeks burning as you unfold the piece of scrap paper.
I don’t care if you’re spoken for. I’d like to take you on a date.
Tobey
Molly taps your leg and you turn the note so she can see it, and it doesn’t take two seconds before she’s turning around and shooting him the evils. You don’t even get time to send back a no when the note is snatched out of your hand, Rafe bringing it up to read.
His eyes glance over the piece of paper before looking down at you and you shake your head- you do not want to get kicked out of class for this. There’s something behind his eyes as he looks up and spots Tobey, who’s doing anything but look now he’s been caught.
“Tobey Brown,” Rafe says, voice commanding. Everyone albeit stops what they’re doing at glances between the two, as Tobey catches Rafe’s eyes.
“Why are you passing notes in a test?” Rafe asks and Tobey shrugs, dropping his pen.
“You’re really gonna get between two students in love?” Tobey snickers, causing some of the people in the classroom to laugh. Rafe’s eyes dart down to your own as if confirming with you, to which you shake your head. He nods, looking back up at Tobey.
“You bet your ass I am. You’re disqualified from this test and you’ll receive zero points. Leave my classroom now.” You can hear Tobey scoff.
“You can’t do that,” he sounds unsure in himself, but Rafe only grins.
“I can, and I am. You don’t pass notes during tests- especially to girls who don’t want them,” a few more people laugh in the class and you look back to see Tobey’s eyes burning into you as he grabs his things. He doesn’t say a further word as he huffs out of the classroom, slamming the door behind him.
“Back to your tests guys, twenty minutes left,” Rafe says, crumpling up the note and throwing it into the trash can next to his desk.
The twenty minutes fly by, and it’s not long before Rafe is stood at the front of his desk, collecting papers from everyone as they leave. This time, you’re not the last one to leave as you pass him your paper, hoping he won’t say anything- but he does.
“Hey, mind staying back for a quick chat?” You nod, standing off to the side as everyone leaves, Molly included. She doesn’t go without a wiggle of her eyebrows and it makes you giggle, as Rafe shuts the classroom door.
He takes a seat back at his desk and you walk over, standing in front. “So, where were you last week?” He asks, folding his arms over his chest.
“I uh, wasn’t feeling too well,” you lie. You know he knows you’re lying too, you can see it in his eyes. He nods, leaning forward, and you can see him swallow.
“That uh, Tobey Brown kid, you’re not seeing him are you?” The question shocks you, and you’re sure it’d slap you in the face if it could.
“Why do you care if I am?” A flash of anger reaches across his face, before it disappears again, replaced with a look of discomfort.
“I’m not saying- I just don’t think he’s a good kid,” kid. The word sinks in like bricks in a pool, heavy and hard. If he thought Tobey was a kid- what did he think of you?
You were the same age as Tobey afterall. It put everything you thought into question- was he just an overly affectionate guy to his students? Or was he a creep. You bite your tongue instead of asking.
Rafe can sense a change in your mood, like you’re lost deep in thought- so he stands, beckoning for you to follow him into his office. He grabs your paper, opening the door.
You follow. Like you’re on autopilot, you follow him. You take a seat at the all too familiar chair as he takes a seat from across you, placing the paper between you.
He doesn’t open it. You’re wondering why, basking in the silence between the two of you when he speaks.
“Are we going to review my paper?” your eyes meet his own. He’s lax, sat back in his seat, arms crossed on his chest and his legs sit wide open under the table. They don’t quite touch yours, not yet.
“Yes, yes we are. I’m gonna tell you what’s wrong and you’re gonna re figure it out,” he tells you, smile watched into his features as he leans forward. He opens the paper, scanning through it as he looks for something you’ve done wrong.
You’re looking too, waiting for when he stops- and when he finally does, you’re embarrassed. It’s an easy question, that you were positive you’d got right. Rafe places the paper in front of you, finger jabbing the spot where you’re supposed to be looking before passing you a pen.
“You’ve gone wrong at some point during this, and I want you to figure out how,” he says, leaning back again. You nod, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear before leaning down and looking at the question.
It doesn’t take you long to get frustrated, getting the same answer over and over again. You whine, looking up at Rafe who’s watching you with amusement. “I can’t figure it out,”
“Why not? What’s confusing you?” His voice is cool, slicing right through your thoughts and you completely forget what you were going to say.
“I don’t know, I get the same answer every time,” rafe nods, standing from his chair. He’s round the desk in no time, leaning over you and looking at your reworkings of the question.
Your lungs stop working. You can’t breathe, eyes darting down at your slightly shaking hand as he’s all in your space. His presence feels so inviting, warm musky smell going right through your nostrils despite the lack of breathing you’re able to do.
He jabs the page again, causing your eyes to flutter over where he’s looking. He takes the pen from your hand, crossing out one of your workings and replacing it with his own. It changes the entire equation, giving a complete different answer from the one you had.
You feel so stupid. The pen drops to the paper and Rafe leans in closer. “Do you get it now?” He whispers, breath hot and heavy on your neck, causing you to shiver.
You nod, slowly, feeling his back against the back of your head as it tips backwards with your nod. Both his hands splay on the desk around you, caging you in.
“Yeah? Explain it to me,” he drawls, and you feel the heat crawl up your neck. If he could, he’d see your face bright red.
“I uh- I fucked up with one of my last equations which sent me in the wrong direction- it should’ve uh, been m equals 15x and not m equals 16x. I’m not sure where the extra number came from,” you whisper, gulping as he leans in even closer, if possible.
“Good. I knew you’d get there eventually, sweetheart.” You thought, when you first saw this man two weeks ago, you wouldn’t be like everyone else in class. He was a pretty face, the new chew toy for all the girls in class. You’d have thought- you wouldn’t be bothered by his voice, or his muscles, or his face- but boy, was he testing you.
You turn in the chair, looking up at him as he’s already staring down at you. You can feel it, feel the need, as neither of you move an inch. Just staring. You couldn’t deny how attractive he was, especially this close. His eyes break away from your own and down to your lips, before looking back up at you. There’s something there, glinting behind his blue irises.
He moves closer. If this were anywhere else, there wouldn’t be that nagging in the back of your head that this were wrong. He’s your teacher- but, the other side argues that he’s just an assistant- but god, you’d be damned if you weren’t feeling this right now. In this moment, he’s not your teacher. This is something else.
His eyes dart down to your lips again and it feels like you’ve been here for a millennia before he whispers, “fuck it.”
And suddenly, you’re kissing. He leans in closer, hands grasping your cheeks as you try to turn in the seat even more, grasping at his sweater. He kisses you like he’s got no oxygen, hands swiping up to push your hair behind your ears.
You moan slightly as his teeth scrape your bottom lip, fingers wrapping around his neck and scraping your fingers through the buzzed hair there. Rafe groans, pulling you up from the chair and pushing it out of the way. His hands make their way down to your waist, pushing you backwards towards the desk. You reach up, sitting on the desk, lips still locked onto Rafe’s.
One of his hands wrapped around your waist, the other splays on top your thigh just at the edge of your dress. You can feel his hand slipping behind your denim jacket, onto the small of your back as he pulls you towards the edge of the desk and you open your legs for him, allowing him to slot in between.
He groans, pulling away from you. He’s breathing heavy, lips swollen, and you can only imagine what you look like if he still looks that good.
He looks down between the two of you, letting out a heavy sigh. “You’re killing me, fuck.” His fingers play with the edge of your dress, chest heaving. You move a hand up the back of his head, feeling the buzz before pulling him back in for another kiss.
He accepts, capturing your lips again, hand slipping underneath your dress. He’s sliding his fingers over the sensitive part of your thigh, getting closer and closer to where you know you’re positively soaked, because of him.
And then reality hits. Like a freight train, it hits. You’re in his office, kissing your teacher. Kissing a twenty seven year old man. You pull back, shaking your head as the foggy mush finally leaves. Rafe’s look is questioning but he pulls back, hands leaving you colder than previously.
“I just- I don’t know, I think this is-” Rafe nods, face turning to stone. He fully pulls away from you, standing to the side as he sorts his pants out.
“Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow for class.” He doesn’t look at you and you wonder what you’ve done wrong, but he doesn’t say another word as you grab your bag, silently leaving the office.
As you reach your car, you can’t help but feel you’re made a mistake- uncomfortable heat between your legs and heavy head unable to think straight. You don’t know really, what actually just happened- but you know Molly was right.
You definitely wanted more. It makes you wonder why you stopped in the first place, freezing up like you did the time before. You’ve never had a man make you this nervous, ever.
But the way that he reacted when you stopped? It wasn’t good. Like he thought you regretted it or something, when you didn’t. You were just confused.
As you turn the ignition, you run your hands over your face. You weren’t sure what you’d got yourself into, but this was far from over.
Note ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪
Oh my goodness. It’s getting hot in here 🫣 I cannot wait to write the next chapter, I’m loving this series and I hope you guys are too !
Check out a teaser for a new series here <3
Tags ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪
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give it to me
pairing; jeon wonwoo x f!reader
genre; smut (minor dni), angst, toxic, fluff
summary; From the outside looking in your life is perfect. It's the perfect ones who are the most fucked up and have the most to lose, or so you thought.
dark/content warnings; murder, kidnapping, talk of abuse, talk of solicitation, illusion to sexual abuse, wonwoo is not a nice guy for a large part of this fic -- hitman!wonwoo, kidnapper!wonwoo, ransom negotiations, corrupt business world, seedy gang/mob underworld, crying (pain and mental pain), depression, fucked up family dynamics, yn has parents/parent death mentioned, police, dead bodies, blood, guns, lying, eating/drinking -- i am sure there is more, this fic can be a lot. please consider the warnings before you read.
smut warnings; unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, oral (m receiving), begging, crying (pleasure), olfactophilia/mysophilia (panty sniffing), grinding, petnames
w/c; 22k and some change (980~ bonus on patreon only)
a/n; thank you to my @junkissed for proofreading this for me! i know i am on a dark fic kick. thank you all for going along on this ride with me -- perhaps you might catch some easter eggs 🤫 -- i really hope you enjoy this one.
before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here
“Stop pouting.”
You throw a contemptuous glare towards Wonwoo from the rearview mirror as he sits in the passenger's seat. He was a handsome man with strong features that made you both nervous and furious. He had been assigned to your personal security by your father in the past week after some changes and discoveries with your previous bodyguard had come to light.
While you didn’t care who watched over you, it was important to your father, who was by his daughter’s side. You had no assumptions that it was because he loved you; no, it was more that you were the heiress of his multimillionaire dollar stock trading company and his only living child.
“I don’t want to go.”
Shaking his head, Wonwoo glances down at his phone to see a text message from your father, only to let out a sigh. He knew you didn’t want to go; you had been telling him that all day. You were a brat. You were every bit the part of Mr. Y/L/N’s daughter and he could tell that you lived a very charmed life. Rarely were you told no, and the times you were, you threw a fit.
“It doesn’t matter if you don’t. Today isn’t about you, Y/N. It’s about your father, but you are well aware of that. We’ve talked about it enough times today. Stop pretending that you don’t like attention.”
Rolling your eyes, you lean your head back as Wonwoo talks down to you. You hated him. He was worse than any other bodyguard that your father had put in his place. He was strict and he degraded you. Your last bodyguard was a sweet man who would let you sneak out and get laid, but Wonwoo was an asshole who triple locked your door.
“Fuck you. You don’t know me. Stop acting like you do. God, I can’t wait for you to get fired.”
Smirking, Wonwoo glances at you in the rear view mirror, letting his eyes move over your pretty features as the car comes to a stop outside of the venue. The flashes of cameras already make him feel anxious, but he has started to get used to it. They weren’t looking at him, they were looking at you.
“That’s sweet, Princess. I don’t want you to like me. They want you to like them.” Wonwoo gestures his head towards the window, drawing your eyes to where people are falling over one another to try to catch a glimpse of you. “Your fans and daddy are waiting.”
Reaching for your door, you pull on the handle, instantly feeling frustration take hold of you when it doesn’t budge. Glancing back at you, Wonwoo grins before opening his door and moving to yours. Opening it from the outside with ease, the man looks down at you with a smug expression.
You hear your name yelled by several people and lights flash in your eyes before Wonwoo steps in front of the photographers, allowing you to step out of the vehicle. At least he was good for something. Meeting his eyes, you narrow yours for a moment before putting on a pretty, fake smile, letting him know he could move and allow your picture to be taken.
Wonwoo stays on your left, his eyes watchful as he moves them from you to the crowd and back. He was good at what he did. He could feel the weight of his gun on his side, but he knew he wouldn’t need it, not even if someone did try something. His hands were more than enough to take care of them, but his gaze was deterrent enough. There was something dangerous, almost feral, about Wonwoo’s eyes that told anyone and everyone not to fuck with him, including you.
Hearing your name, your father sighs and looks towards the double doors. Appearances were everything for him and you looked like you were worth every single penny he had spent on you. While you left much to be desired on the business front, at least he could count on you to look stunning on the front page of a magazine along with his last name. You could make his company's stocks climb by 3% with a smile on a good day, and today was a great day or at least your father wanted it to be.
“Mm, Y/N, darling.”
You keep your fake smile on your face, letting your father’s lips brush the corner of your lips before he takes your arm into his. His grip is a little too tight for your comfort, but at events like this, it always is. You hated business dinners. You despised talking to the business partners and their “handsome” heirs. None of them were attractive, no matter how many times your father told you to tell them they were.
“I want you to meet two of my oldest friends, Hyong Songmin and Hong Jinyoung.”
Clenching your jaw, you glance at your father, knowing where this is going, before he squeezes your forearm to the point of pain and your eyes move to the two older businessmen.
“Hello, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Wonwoo rolls his eyes watching you put on a face for the old men. He could tell you didn’t want to be there anymore than he did. Glancing at his watch, he sighs under his breath and purses his lips, listening to the conversations around him while keeping up the appearance of guarding you and your father.
Reaching out to take your hand from your father, Hyong Songmin is just a bit faster than Hong Jinyoung. Your brow lifts out of curiosity at the two men and their obvious competitive nature before you laugh a bit awkwardly, feeling the older man’s lips brush against the back of your knuckles.
“No, dear… the pleasure is mine. I wish my son Kihyun was here today, but at least I’m not the only one with a missing son.”
Rolling his eyes, Jinyoung looks you over, almost appraising you, before he meets your father’s eyes and tilts his head like he’s considering a deal.
“He’s not wrong. Joshua was, I quote, “just too busy with numbers” to attend today. I’m certain he would be ashamed to have missed the opportunity to meet you, Miss Y/L/N.”
You had met Hyong Kihyun before and you had heard some rumblings about Joshua Hong, but you knew what this was really about. This was about your father, his company, and mergers.
“What a shame... perhaps we can set up another time for my beautiful daughter to meet with either of your dashing sons in the near future. Dinner?”
Gritting your teeth, you look in your father’s direction, meeting his eyes, only to feel his hand wrap back around your arm.
“I’m so busy, Father. I’m sure that both of their sons are as well, no matter how large the dowry is.”
Your father scoffs into a laugh upon hearing the two men laugh at your "joke.” Luckily for him, they had found it amusing, but he had not. Digging his fingers into your arm, your father’s eyes burn holes into your face before he looks towards Wonwoo, clearing his throat to get his attention.
“My apologies, gentleman. My daughter has her mother’s tongue. Mr. Kim?”
Lifting his brows, Wonwoo smirks at the name before he meets your father’s eyes, taking your arm when offered to him as your breath quickens. You watch as he leans closer to the bodyguard, whispering something into his ear, only for the man to meet your eyes and nod.
“Now, where were we? Ah yes, planning dinners for our children. Mine needs a meal and a good night's rest today, but seeing as how your sons aren’t here…”
You feel Wonwoo guide you towards the back of the banquet hall as your father turns his eyes away from you, distracting his guests. He was good at that, diverting attention from people and things he was ashamed of. That was the reason your mother wasn’t around anymore and no one ever asked why. That was why you were always leaving early if you spoke out of turn, like you did tonight.
Tugging at Wonwoo’s grip, you feel his hand tighten around your wrist, but he never holds you to the degree that your father does. It never hurts, he always knows when to stop and that you will follow him anyway.
“Leave it alone, Y/N. You didn’t want to be there anyway.”
Learning against the wall, you sigh as Wonwoo looks out into the alleyway, waiting for the car to come into view. Glancing back at you, he lifts his brows, almost feeling sympathy for you, but what was there to feel sorry for? You weren’t the type of person that Wonwoo felt anything for.
Pulling at your elbow, Wonwoo kicks the door to the noisy venue, leaning down to glance in the vehicle and nod at the driver. You hear him mutter a few words before you are ushered into the back, like always. You were used to this song and dance. Anytime you would embarrass your father, it didn’t matter who your bodyguard was, you were always sent back to your apartment and called later with a firm reminder of who you were and who you belonged to.
So when the car turns in the opposite direction of your apartment, you furrow your brows and look towards the front seat, seeing the wide eyes of your driver. You didn’t know the man’s name; it had never seemed important until this moment. Today he looked scared and you weren’t sure why until he muttered something towards your bodyguard and his voice got louder, feeling the barrel of the gun against his side.
“I don’t—okay!”
Tears instantly threaten to well up in your eyes at the sight in front of you. Has your driver done something wrong? Was he a bad man? Has Wonwoo noticed something you hadn’t? Swallowing hard, you reach for your cellphone to do something, anything, when you hear Wonwoo’s tongue click in disapproval.
“Give it to me. Now, Y/N. I won’t fucking ask again.”
Meeting Wonwoo’s eyes, you see that dangerous look making your brows furrow. Seeing his outstretched hand, you whine and shake your head, realizing the situation was the opposite of what you had quickly deduced. Your driver had done nothing wrong. Wonwoo was doing this. You barely knew Wonwoo. He had been assigned to you for less than a week.
“Wonwoo…”
“Now!”
The tears spill on your cheeks when Wonwoo yells at you. You put your cellphone into his hand and sit back in your seat before glancing towards both doors. Your mind goes back to when you arrived at the venue and how Wonwoo had to open your door from the outside.
“Pull into this parking garage. Fuckin—why are you two making me repeat myself? Just do it!”
You close your eyes, hearing your driver’s head hit the side of his door when Wonwoo forces the man’s head hard against it. The man lets out a painful sound, along with affirming words, as you feel the car take a sudden left and any light from outside is taken by the oppressive walls of the concrete parking garage.
The moment the car is in park, you look around for a way to get out, but the sound of Wonwoo’s gun going off pulls your attention back towards him quickly. Meeting his eyes, your hands over your ears, you watch him speak, but you just shake your head until he grits his teeth and forces your hand from your head.
“Fucking listen to me, Y/N. Be a good girl and I won’t have to hurt you.”
Your eyes shift to the body of your driver slumped over the steering wheel and the panic rushes back through you, causing Wonwoo to jerk your arm once again.
“You are worth more to everyone without a bullet in you, but that doesn’t mean I won’t. Do you understand me?”
Pleading words fall from your lips just above a whisper as Wonwoo lets go of your wrist, leaning over the man in the driver’s seat. You hadn’t noticed the gloves that Wonwoo always had on until now. It took your brain being shocked into reality for things to sink in. Your door is locked from the outside. The gloves on Wonwoo’s hands. Was that his real name? Kim Wonwoo?
Pushing the body with his knee, Wonwoo grunts and watches the body fall with a thud next to the car. It wasn’t ideal, but it would work. The parking garage was in a secluded part of town and it would take at least a few hours, if not a day for someone to stumble upon it.
Looking into the rearview mirror, Wonwoo lifts his eyebrows at you as you tremble visibly. He knew you were scared. That was something you were feeling for once, and that made sense. All the times over the past week that he has seen you be unreasonably annoyed over simple shit made this even easier.
“Let’s go for a drive, Princess.”
Rubbing at the mascara drying on your fingers, you feel the car come to a stop. Wonwoo sighs, his brows furrowing as he looks around at the empty parking garage and finally back at you. You hadn’t spoken since he had started driving, but he wasn’t complaining. He could hear you crying, your pathetic little whimpering as he drove, but that had been the most of it. You had been resigned to what was happening. You had been “a good girl,” and Wonwoo could give you a bit of credit for that.
“Home sweet home, Y/N.”
Looking up, you furrow your brows at the sight around you. This parking garage had clearly not been used in years, probably closer to a decade. The building itself is probably in similar, if not worse, condition. There was nothing about this that you wanted to call home, but as Wonwoo opened his door and moved to yours, opening it, the gun pointed in your direction, and you knew you didn’t really have much of a say.
“Wh–why are you doing this? Did my father not pay you enough?”
Scoffing, Wonwoo sighs, leaning back against the door as he waits impatiently for you to gather the train of your tight dress and slide towards him.
“I thought you were supposed to be smart. Isn’t that what all those degrees on your office wall are for?”
Your stomach twists at Wonwoo’s words as your high heels unsteadily meet the uneven concrete of the garage. Reaching out with his free hand, Wonwoo tugs you upward and keeps your body against his, letting the barrel of his gun rest against your abdomen as he walks with you.
“This is ridiculous, Wonwoo. You’re throwing your life away, and for what? A paycheck—”
Scoffing at your words, Wonwoo cuts you off with a look as he kicks open a heavy door to the stairwell. Obviously, the elevator wouldn’t work in a building like this. You whine at the idea of the stairs in your heels, your eyes searching Wonwoo’s as he shakes his head and digs the gun into your side.
“You’re the one who’s ridiculous. You look ridiculous and you are acting pathetic. Walk!” Raising his voice, Wonwoo feels your body jerk in his arms before you do as he says and move forward up the stairs. “This isn’t about some stupid ass security job. This is about your daddy, and him paying for you. I was hired to take you, Princess.”
You feel your knees buckle. Wonwoo’s fingers dig into your arm, lifting you back up as he rolls his eyes at your reaction. He figures you are playing the role of the grief stricken daughter, but in reality, you are fighting the urge between laughing and crying. Your father? Paying for you? Who was stupid enough to think that he would?
Using his shoulder, Wonwoo pushes open the door to one of the many rooms before letting you stumble inside in front of him. You look around, your brows furrowing in confusion and you feel some disgust at the sight in front of you. You weren’t sure what you had expected. The rest of the building hadn’t given you the impression that any of the apartments would be in good condition, so seeing it firsthand shouldn’t be surprising.
“Welcome home.”
You give Wonwoo a look of contempt, making him laugh as he gestures towards a dusty couch with his gun. You didn’t want to sit on the couch. The first thought in your head was that the dress you were wearing cost thousands of dollars and that cleaning it would cost hundreds, but the look in Wonwoo’s eyes made you take a step in its direction.
“He won’t pay you any money for me. If—listen, Wonwoo... if you let me go, I can pay you the money myself.”
Sighing, Wonwoo lifts his free hand to his brows, rubbing hard as he watches you. He could see you hesitating to sit down. The way you were brushing at the couch with your fingers only to rub them together as if you were in pain. When you finally sit down, you look stiff and struggle to not let any of your skin touch the dusty material under you.
“Doubt this is about what you can offer, sweetheart. Get comfortable, you are going to be here for a while. So stop acting like you are going to get the plague from some dust.”
Wrinkling your nose to the smell of rot, you force your eyes open. You hope that everything that has happened has been a bad dream. Instead, you open them to find things were worse than you remembered. Whining, you push against the leather couch, searching for a way out, only to find Wonwoo leaning against the door, his eyes on you.
“How was your nap?”
It was interesting to see you like this, out of your element. Wonwoo had grown accustomed to seeing you prim and proper. Your outfits are always in perfect condition—not a hair out of place. Now you are starting to show signs of wear. You had grime on your cheek from falling asleep on the couch, which you hated so much. At least he had been nice enough to let you sleep somewhere soft.
Rubbing at your cheek, you turn your eyes away from Wonwoo as you shake your head. You were stiff and uncomfortable. You had only fallen asleep out of exhaustion, not because you wanted to or because you were comfortable. The last thing you wanted to do was fall asleep around him.
“I want to go home.”
Nodding, Wonwoo runs his fingers along his palm. He knew what you wanted. You had told him many times before finally passing out for a few hours. He had slept off and on, but he was used to living like this. He was a light sleeper and with one movement from you, Wonwoo knew he would be on his feet, ready to put you back where you belonged.
“And you know the answer to that. So stop fucking telling me. Tell me something different.”
Biting at your lips, you blink back your tears, glancing over at Wonwoo again. He was so cruel. You try to imagine a world before today when you actually found him attractive and enjoyed pushing his buttons. The idea of it was terrifying now. You had no idea who you had been teasing. You had enjoyed pushing your bodyguards to their limits until you met Wonwoo.
“You are such an asshole.”
Wonwoo smirks, his thumbnail tracing the longest line in his palm as he looks over your face, even from a distance. Even with all that grime on your face, you were still beautiful. It was a pity that you were such a bratty bitch.
“Thanks, I try. You’ve made it easy with your stunning personality.”
Scoffing, you rub your arms, the chill in the air causing chill bumps to spread along your skin. Wonwoo watches you shiver, his brows furrowing, before he rolls his eyes and moves to his feet with a loud sigh. You watch as he moves to a duffle bag you hadn’t noticed before. Rummaging through it, he tosses a protein bar on your lap, followed by a bottle of water.
“Eat, we are gonna be here awhile.”
Your stomach growls at the idea of food. It had been hours since you had eaten anything substantial. Anytime before you would attend an event, you had a habit of skipping a meal in an attempt to make your dress fit better. Now you were mentally cursing yourself for the tradition.
“I’m fine.”
Shrugging, Wonwoo takes out his own bottle of water, tossing the cap down on the floor before tipping the bottle back on his lips. His eyes never leave your face as he swallows the water in large gulps until, finally, the last of the water is gone.
“Suit yourself. I’m not going to force you to eat or drink, Y/N. But trust me, starving yourself won’t make you a martyr. No one cares that much.”
Wonwoo’s words bite at your self esteem. You look down, your stomach turning as tears run down your cheeks. You knew he was right. Your father probably hadn’t realized you were gone yet, not if the person who had wanted you kidnapped hadn’t sent him a ransom note. Even if they had, your father would keep it quiet until he couldn’t.
The dinner had ended a few hours ago and your father had already started nursing his headache in typical fashion, a glass of brandy in his hand from the moment he stepped into his house. You had disappointed him. He wished that just once you could attend a business function with him, put a smile on your face, and keep your mouth shut.
Luckily for him, both men he had hoped would be interested in his proposition had left him with some hope for the future. You hadn’t completely fucked up everything he had been working for. Out of the two men, your father hoped that Hong Jinyoung’s son would be the one who took the bait. While both of the companies were worth something, Hong Investments was like a beacon, and your father was swimming towards the dollar signs.
Settling into his chair, your father furrows his brows at his phone and the lack of messages from you. You knew he was upset with you. He had sent you away with the new bodyguard, what was his name again, Kim? Sighing, the older man presses down on your name and puts his phone to his cheek, leaning back to take a sip of his alcohol and listening to the phone ring until your voicemail picks up.
Cursing under his breath, your father tries your number again with the same result before scowling at your picture on his phone. You were ignoring him? You were a prideful brat, but you weren’t a complete idiot. You knew that he would cut off your credit cards if you made him mad enough; no, something else was going on.
Just as he was about to press down on your name for the third time, an unknown number appeared on his phone. Furrowing his brows, your father starts to wonder if perhaps something happened to your phone—this was you calling from a new number. That didn’t make sense. Sighing into his words, he answers the phone with annoyance and confusion evident in his tone.
“Hello?”
The man on the other side of the phone smirked at hearing how annoyed your father seemed. He had never met Mr. Y/L/N, but he had heard stories and he knew the man’s pockets were deep.
“Mr. Y/L/N, good evening.”
Scoffing, thinking that it’s a solicitor or even a collector of some kind, your father starts to press the end button before he hears the man speak again.
“Missing something—or someone, I should say?”
There were many things that your father didn’t enjoy and being pulled along and fucked with was one of them. Sitting up, he narrows his eyes, glancing down into his glass of brandy before taking a sip and letting out a breath between his teeth before answering the man.
“Like what? Who is this?”
A grin stretches on the other man’s face as he leans back in his chair, glancing down at the picture of you on his desk. Using the tip of a pen, he pushes the picture around aimlessly before letting out an unamused laugh at the old man’s questions.
“Don’t play senile. I know you are wondering where Y/N is. As for my name, just call me Mr. Park.”
There were plenty of Mr. Park’s in Seoul. Rolling his eyes, your father clenches his hand around the brandy glass before sitting it down hard on the table in front of him.
“Fine, Mr. Park, where is my daughter?”
Now they were getting somewhere. This is how money is made. Park Bonhwa grins at your picture once again, pulling it back towards him. You were beautiful and even in the candid picture he had of you, he could tell that you were expensive. You were worth every penny he had been offered to set up this job.
“With a friend... where she will stay, until we can come to an agreement.”
At those words, a smile pulls at your father’s lips. The idea of you being kidnapped is ridiculous; you had a bodyguard—handpicked by him—with you at all times. Shaking his head, he laughs, causing Park Bonhwa’s grin to slip and his jaw to tighten.
“You think this is some kind of fuckin’ joke, old man? I’ll have him cut off her fingers one by one and put them on your door. Don’t you ever laugh at me again.”
It was a joke and your father wasn’t intimidated. He would prefer to have you back in one piece, but how much this Mr. Park wanted for you was going to determine that. This wasn’t the first time that your father had been threatened and he wouldn’t turn over and show his belly to just anyone.
“Apologies; please continue with your script. How much are you wanting for my daughter?”
Furrowing his brows, Bonhwa finds himself a bit flustered and confused by your father’s tone and his choice of words. Was he not concerned about your safety or the condition you might be returned in? Shaking his head, he pushes forward with his task as he licks his lips and pushes your photo away.
“10 billion won, and I can promise she will be returned to you safe—”
“You have to be fucking kidding me.”
After being cut off by your father, Bonhwa grits his teeth and sits up in his chair. He hadn’t played the middle man for many kidnappings, but they had never been unsuccessful. Yours shouldn’t be either. The plan seemed flawless; you were going to die either way.
“Excuse me?”
Standing up, your father shakes his head and looks at the phone as if the man is standing in front of him and he could shake some sense into him. He was looking at the phone as if he could teach the man how to do business better, as if the man wasn’t telling him he wanted money for his daughter’s life.
“She’s not worth that amount of money. Where did you pull that number from? Your ass?”
Picking at the granola bar, you could feel Wonwoo’s eyes on you when his cellphone had gone off in his pocket. Yours had gone off a few times earlier, but he had just glanced at it and finally turned it off before putting it back in his pocket. You figured it was your father and by the look on Wonwoo’s face, he wasn’t in the mood for your phone or his.
“What?”
Watching him, you furrow your brows as Wonwoo lifts his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose in annoyance. Maybe it was his boss? Did he have one? He had said he was hired to take you, so there was someone in charge of this. If so, why did Wonwoo look so annoyed by the man?
“Negotiations? So what the fuck—no? What? No, I fuckin—you know what?”
The conversation didn’t seem to be going well. If it were about your father, you could only imagine how poorly it could be. You had tried to warn Wonwoo and you had tried to make this easier on yourself and him, and yet here you sat on a filthy couch in the middle of nowhere.
Park Bonhwa’s voice was like tin foil on a grater to Wonwoo. The man was an idiot, but he had lined Wonwoo’s pockets for this job. However, this job was starting to look like more of a pain in the ass than it had to be.
“Don’t you tell me anything, Jeon! You’re my help. I hired you. He’s gonna agree; he just needs the motivation. Take a picture of the little bitch after you rough her up.”
Shaking his head, Wonwoo glances over at you, watching you glance down quickly. You were afraid of him or at least afraid of the situation. He didn’t want to rough you up; he didn’t hit women. Sure, he had taken you and threatened you, but he had never hit you. He had never hit a woman in his life. Killed them? That was left up for debate, if they deserved it.
“Yeah, whatever…”
Hanging up, Wonwoo drops his hand to his side as he tilts his head. You already looked like shit. Maybe he could figure out another way to do this.
“Y/N, get up. Come over here.”
You swallow hard and shake your head. You weren’t sure what he had been told to do and you didn’t want to make any of it easy for him. Has your father really said no? Was he going to kill you now? Make you walk to him so he could put a bullet in your head? Deviantly, you grab at the couch under you, letting the granola bar slip off your lap and into the floor as Wonwoo watches his frustration rise.
“Get the fuck up! I am giving you the chance to do this yourself. Don’t make me fucking move you myself.”
When you still don’t move, sitting firmly on the couch, Wonwoo lets out a frustrated groan that almost sounds like a growl from his throat. Your eyes meet his and he sees the fear mixed with anger in them when his hand wraps around your bicep so that he can lift you from the couch by force. The pain reminds you of your father’s grip on you, and you feel tears collecting on your eyes, but you will them back, not wanting to give Wonwoo the satisfaction of seeing them if this is the last thing he sees of you.
“Walk! Goddammit, why are you so fucking stubborn? I wouldn’t have to be so damn mean to you if you’d cooperate with me. You realize that? Here! No, I said here!”
A whimper slips from your lips as you stumble in your heels, feeling your ankle roll when Wonwoo pushes you against the wall. You feel the peeling paint against your skin and you smell the mold radiating off the drywall as you squirm in his grasp until finally Wonwoo’s anger gets the best of him. A hand slams into the wall next to your head, mere centimeters from your face, making you stop moving.
You stare at Wonwoo’s hand, letting your eyes move to his wrist and forearm, where his muscles are tense from the amount of pressure he used. You squeeze your eyes shut, imagining how bad it would have hurt if he had chosen to hit you instead of the wall.
Wonwoo swallows hard, feeling you go pliant in his grasp. While he was used to his life, it didn’t make moments like this enjoyable. You had been a bitch to him and others around you, but it didn’t make scaring you to this point seem fun. Taking a breath, Wonwoo watches the tears run down your cheeks as he pushes away his compassion and rubs his hand against the dirty wall before grabbing your face and hearing you sob, begging him to stop.
“Shut up and listen to me.”
Tilting his head, Wonwoo narrows his eyes, almost eyeing your face like a canvas as he uses the dirt on his fingers as paint while he talks.
“You’re fucked, Y/N. Daddy isn’t willing to hand over the money like they thought he would, so they want... wanted me to fuck you up.”
Moving his hand back to the wall, Wonwoo uses your tears on his fingers to collect more of the dirt, moving his hand back to you and wrapping his hand around your throat. You tense, your hand moving to grab his forearm, nails digging into his skin, causing Wonwoo to hiss before he tightens his grasp around your throat only for a moment and loosens it.
“I’m doing this to make it look like I beat you. I don’t beat women.” Meeting your eyes, Wonwoo watches confusion walk over your face before he clarifies. “Doesn’t mean I won’t kill you. One bullet to the back of your head and you are done, Princess.”
He was a complicated and confusing man. You could appreciate that he wasn’t going to actually beat you like he was told to, but he was still scaring you. He was still reminding you that he could and would kill you easily. Reaching up, you start to wipe your tears but Wonwoo grabs your wrist and shakes his head before tilting it.
“Let them run through the dirt... Makes you look more pathetic, plus... there’s something red in the dirt and your tears make it look like you are bleeding.”
Wonwoo looks through the pictures he sent to Bonhwa. They were too convincing, but he owed that to how terrified you were while he had taken them. Glancing over to where you lay on the couch, Wonwoo sighs, seeing the dirt still covering your face.
It had been over 16 hours since he had taken you, and you were still in that dress. It was filthy and ripped. Your shoes were now off because your ankle had started to swell after you had rolled it. Now Wonwoo couldn’t help the way his eyes scanned the floor of the dilapidated apartment, seeing rusty nails, glass, and pieces of metal that could all end up in your feet.
He shouldn’t care. After the pictures had been sent to Bonhwa, he received another call. Your father still wasn’t sending money and it didn’t matter anyway; Bonhwa’s contract wanted a bullet in your skull. Apparently, it wasn’t enough to bankrupt your father. The man wanted to make sure every point of income, including children, was cut off from him.
Sliding his duffle bag closer to him, Wonwoo digs through his supplies, counting up his rations and looks over what else he had the forethought to pack. He was used to disappearing for months, even years at a time, so this wasn’t a big deal for him. It was having you here and the gnawing bit of compassion biting at the back of his head that was causing him issues.
Taking out a pair of sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a pair of tennis shoes, Wonwoo sighs and narrows his eyes at you. He didn’t care about you. You were a dead woman walking, so why should it matter that the sight of you in that stupid fucking evening dress was making him feel sick? You had been beautiful in it before the dinner. He could admit that to himself. You were a beautiful woman. The dress had probably been custom made for you and right now it represented where you had pretended to come from. All the filth covering it represented what was really underneath all the glitz and glamor.
Moving to drop the clothes next to you, Wonwoo watches you slowly wake up. You didn’t have much energy. You weren’t eating or drinking enough, so your body was choosing exhaustion instead. Pointing at the clothes, Wonwoo lifts his brows and waits for you to give them some recognition, but instead you sit up and wrap your arms around you, chill bumps spreading over your skin.
“There’s no running water here... but at least you can change into something cleaner. We can get that shit off of your face.”
Your brows furrow deeply at Wonwoo’s words. You wanted to fight him, but you just nodded and started to put your feet down when he reached out to stop you.
“I’ll turn my back; you slip on the shoes first and then the clothes. There’s nowhere you can go, understand?”
You were too tired to run. Looking down at the floor, you see why he had stopped you, the glass crunching under his feet as he moved a few steps away from you. Turning his back, Wonwoo glances over his shoulder to watch you put on his shoes before he looks back towards the wall when you start to unzip your dress under your arm.
“Why are you doing this? He’s not gonna pay, Wonwoo. I’m tired…”
It had only been 16 hours and you were already giving up. Wonwoo shouldn’t be annoyed that you were giving up; that should be a good thing in theory, but instead it was frustrating. Rolling his eyes, Wonwoo peeks over his shoulder to see you dropping your dress into the floor, your body covered in matching lace as you reach for his t-shirt.
“Suck it up. What would you rather happen? I just killed you now.”
Pulling the shirt over your head, you scoff, finding it amusing how his words don’t really scare you this time. They almost seem like a joke. Meeting Wonwoo’s eyes briefly, you watch him look away quickly, clearing his throat. You know you should be upset that he was looking at you in a vulnerable state, but instead you slip one foot out of the borrowed shoes and start pulling on the sweatpants.
“Why not? Seems like a waste of everyone's time.”
Taken aback by your answer, Wonwoo hears you sigh, the couch settling as you sit down behind him. Turning around to face you, he looks at you in his clothes before his eyes move to the dirt he had painted on your face and throat. You watch as Wonwoo takes a bottle of water from his bag along with a towel, pouring some on to it as he kneels in front of you.
“Think so low of yourself all of a sudden, Princess? What happened to all that confidence you had yesterday?”
Wonwoo lifts his hand with the towel to wipe at your skin but at first you wince in fear. Meeting his eyes, he gives you a look of reassurance before trying again and this time you lean slightly into his touch. It takes some pressure for Wonwoo to get the dirt off of your skin; his eyes follow his hand even as he pours more water on to new sections of the towel.
“I’m just a good liar.”
That Wonwoo could tell wasn’t a lie. He knew you were a liar. He had caught you in plenty of lies in the short time he had known you, so perhaps he wouldn’t call you a good liar, but a liar nonetheless. Wonwoo’s brows knit together in thought as he lifts his free hand up to hold your chin as he rubs as gently as possible at your neck to clean his handprint from it, feeling you swallow under his touch.
“So you gonna be truthful with me now that you are so ready to die? Or are you ready and willing to die because you hate your life so much?”
It was none of Wonwoo’s business to answer either of those questions, but you didn’t mind that he had asked them. The only issue was that they brought tears to your eyes. Wonwoo moves your face from side to side, his eyes searching for dirt to clear from your face, before he meets your eyes and sees more tears threatening to spill over the rims.
“You know I hate my life. You saw it firsthand.”
Tossing the towel to the side, Wonwoo stands and puts the lid back on the water bottle before dropping it back into his bag. You watch as he leans to swipe your destroyed dress from the floor, balling it up in his hands like trash as he thinks.
“I did, and from the outside looking in, darlin’, your life looks cushy. But that’s all smoke and mirrors, isn’t it?” Wonwoo doesn’t watch you nod, even as you do. “Won’t lie, your daddy acts like he’s running an escort service, but you’re the only one working.”
Wonwoo’s words cause your face to heat up. You are angry with him, with his words, and with the truth. You know he’s not wrong and you’ve heard the rumors before. If it isn’t a marriage he is trying to set up for you with a rich son or a business partner, at least he can get a date for you, and you are reminded to make them happy. Happy is such a broad term, but you knew what it meant. You hate your father for it and any of the men who wanted the dates.
Dropping your dress in the corner of the room, deeming that the new trash pile, Wonwoo moves back over to you to kneel in front of you. He meets your eyes, then reaches out to slide the leg of your new sweatpants up so he can look at your ankle. When you wince, his fingers prodding at the swollen muscle, he nods and sighs.
“It’s not broken; you’ll live.”
Wonwoo runs his thumb along his palm as he watches you sleep. This has become his new pastime over the past couple of days. It hadn’t been his plan, but between disappointingly annoying phone calls from Bonhwa and watching time tick away, Wonwoo watched your spirit dwindle with it.
In reality, he knew he shouldn’t care. In fact, it should be a good thing. You were less combative. You ran your mouth less. You complained about things less, and yet Wonwoo was starting to miss that fiery woman who made his blood boil. This fragile thing laying in a ball on the couch was a shadow of you, and he had done that. Maybe not on his own, but he was the hands, if not the head.
Leaning his head back against the door, Wonwoo picks up his cellphone, looking at another text message from Bonhwa. Each time his phone rang today, he had let it go to voicemail. He wasn’t some errand boy. Park Bonhwa had already paid him for this job; sure, there was still something left to do, but he couldn’t keep asking him for more shit without adding zeros to the end of what he had given him. Especially the shit he was asking for.
Park: I’m tired of your bullshit
Park: As if I’m not already dealing with enough from the bitch’s daddy
Park: Hyong wants more pictures
2 missed calls from Park
Park: You son of a bitch
Park: answer the fucking phone!
Answering the phone Wonwoo hisses out his words, keeping his voice low so as not to wake you.
“What the fuck do you want? I sent pictures—”
“Shut your fucking mouth. Price came down and the motherfucker is still refusing to pay up like Hyong wants him too. Send more.”
Wonwoo didn’t know who Hyong was; he figured it was the man who had hired Bonhwa, but truthfully, he didn’t care. The less he knew, the better. Biting at his cheek, Wonwoo rolls his eyes and shakes his head.
“I’m not touching her again. Bad enough, the fucker wants her dead anyway.”
Slamming his fist down on his desk, Bonhwa grits his teeth and scoffs into his phone.
“Worthless. I thought you were a professional. The best? Did I waste my fuckin’ money?” Giving Wonwoo only a moment to start to speak, Bonhwa cuts him off before he gets out the first syllable. “Do I need to send some boys to find you and the girl? Have them finish the job?”
The idea of that made Wonwoo sick to his stomach. He knew enough about Park Bonhwa and his men to know he’d rather kill you himself than let them near you. They wouldn’t just kill you. They would assault you, torture you, film it like Bonhwa wanted, and then kill you.
“Fuck off. I'll take care of it.”
Hanging up the phone, Wonwoo tosses the phone into his bag with a louder groan than he meant to cause you to stir from your sleep. Furrowing your brows, you glance towards the man with a bit of concern in your eyes. The past day, he had changed his attitude towards you in some ways. He wasn’t nice, per se, but he wasn’t unnecessarily cruel either.
Meeting your eyes, Wonwoo sighs, lifting his hand to brush it through his hair. He needed a shower and so did you. It would do some good to move locations. It wasn’t his plan. He knew he could tie you to one of the exposed pipes and go do what he needed to do, but for some reason he found himself not wanting to do that.
“Wanna go for some fresh air, princess?”
Sitting up slowly, you consider Wonwoo’s question before nodding. You had heard some of his conversations with his boss, this Park man, and none of them had you convinced that this was going your way.
Wonwoo gets to his feet, leaning to pick up his duffle bag as you slide from the couch. His eyes follow you carefully, watching how you weakly move towards him. That pang of pity hits him and Wonwoo tries to force it back down, only for it to rise up in his throat like bile. Shaking his head, Wonwoo wraps his arm around your waist, letting you lean against him as you try to keep some weight off your swollen ankle as the two of you walk back down the stairs.
“Can I ask a question?”
Your voice surprises Wonwoo as he opens the back door of the car for you. Meeting your gaze, he tilts his head and nods once, waiting for you to continue.
“Are you going to kill me?”
Your question makes the bile bubble in Wonwoo’s throat once again. Looking away, Wonwoo has to clear his throat, forcing the sick feeling down before he once again meets your eyes. There is fear in your eyes, but also a deep sadness that Wonwoo has started to notice as your confident facade starts to crack. Wonwoo knew he could lie to you but what good would that do to anyone?
“I’m supposed to. That’s the job.”
Tears sit on the rims of your eyes as you nod while sitting down on the backseat of the car. You try to think of the right words or a reason to beg for your life, but you can’t think of a single reason. Wonwoo furrows his brows as he watches you nod and pull your legs into the car. His eyes trace the tears as they run down your cheeks before he closes the door and curses under his breath. No other mark had made him feel like this. Why did you feel different?
Looking around the house, you wrap your arms around you, waiting for the punchline of Wonwoo’s joke. He had taken you from the most disgusting, dilapidated apartment building you had ever seen to a modest sized house just outside of the city. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it was clean and had modern comforts.
Wonwoo locks the door, shielding the keypad with his large upper body, as you hear the sound of a code being keyed into the security system. Turning back to face you as you stand in the foyer, clearly confused, he sighs, dropping his duffle bag with a dull thud before crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes.
“Let me make something clear to you, Y/N. This doesn’t change anything. I’m just tired of sleeping on the fuckin’ ground.”
You couldn’t tell if he was lying. That was something you hadn’t mastered yet. Wonwoo was so closed off and you were too tired to pry. Swallowing hard, you look down as he keeps staring at you, his eyes almost studying you as they move along your frame, continuing his explanation.
“You try to open a door to the outside; I’ll know and you’ll regret it. Don’t fuck with me, understand?”
Nodding, you pick at a loose string on the sweatpants you were currently borrowing. They were ill fitting, but still warmer and better than the dress that you had been wearing. You wanted to tell Wonwoo you were grateful for the clothes and for him moving you here, but you find yourself almost afraid to tell him anything. You were afraid that if you showed any sign of comfort, he might take it away because Park told him too.
“Good girl. Come on.”
Grabbing your wrist, Wonwoo guides you down the hall, turning on a light that makes you squint. You had grown accustomed to the low light of the camping lamps in the apartment. The lights in the house were almost too much at first. Glancing up, you blink a few times before you realize Wonwoo has led you to a bathroom. You feel tears once again coat your eyes, but you will them back as you watch him turn on the shower and mutter to himself before sighing and looking you over.
“Here’s the deal, alright?” Swallowing hard, Wonwoo looks like he’s in pain at the words he is trying to force out of his mouth as he leans against the bathroom counter before he meets your eyes once again. “I don’t want to hurt you. What I told you is true, but they want more pictures.”
A small sob escapes from your lips and Wonwoo feels his stomach tighten, the bile once again churning. Perhaps once he had enjoyed putting a little fear into you, but now it was chipping away at something inside of him.
Taking a step back from Wonwoo, you feel the wall behind you as you close your eyes, tears slipping down your cheeks. You had no idea what sort of pictures they could want now. The last ones had broken you and Wonwoo hadn’t done more than scare you. He had taken them in a way to mimic pain, but still, they had caused you enough pain.
“I don’t want to, Wonwoo.”
Running his hand over his mouth, Wonwoo nods. He wants to tell you that he doesn’t want to either, but he also doesn’t want the alternative if he doesn’t deliver them.
“If I don’t send them to him, Park will have his goons track you and I down. They are worse than me. Their pictures won’t be fake…”
“Yours aren’t fake! I’m—” Lifting your hands, you rub at your cheeks, smearing dirt from your hands onto your face in the process of wiping your tears. “I’m so scared. Just kill me. Please? I don’t wanna do this anymore.”
Taking the step across the bathroom towards you, Wonwoo listens to your breath get caught in your throat. He watches your body tense up as you prepare yourself for him to scare you; instead, he takes your wrist loosely in his hand. With his other hand, he carefully rubs at your cheek, trying to clean a smear of dirt from your skin.
“Why the fuck are you just giving up now? Because your daddy is an asshole? You already knew that.”
Leaning your head back against the wall, you meet Wonwoo’s eyes briefly before his eyes move along your face. You were still scared, but there was something about him and about his words that made your shoulders rise. You felt less small if, even for just a moment, you wanted to explain yourself, but maybe that was why he had chosen those words.
“Why not? I told you the moment we stepped into that apartment that he wouldn’t give up any money. He’d rather see me dead.”
Groaning in annoyance, Wonwoo slides his hand from your face to rest his fist next to your head on the wall. You feel how close he is to you; his body caging you in. It feels oppressive for a moment until he shakes his head and meets your eyes and the look in his eyes makes the way he’s standing and how close he is feel like a shield.
“I don’t care what he wants and neither should you. I don’t know why you are so fucking sure—”
“Life insurance, Wonwoo.”
Your words cut him off; Wonwoo’s brows knit together tightly. The look on his face is almost one of pain, as much as it is confusion, until the words seem to sink into reality. Nodding, Wonwoo scoffs and leans his head back, a laugh slipping from between his lips before he looks back down at you and shakes his head.
“How much?”
Wonwoo can see how you have relaxed in front of him. The steam filling the room is comforting and tempting, but he keeps his eyes on you, waiting for your answer.
“100 billion.”
That explained everything. You were worth so much more to him dead than you were alive. Park’s associate clearly hadn’t done his homework. Wonwoo feels his blood boiling at the idea of a father putting that much worth on his child, hoping she would die before he would so he would benefit. There had been a lot of shitty things he had done in his life, but in that moment, he decided that killing you wouldn’t be one of them.
“No.”
Confused by Wonwoo’s response, you tilt your head and repeat it back to him as a question. To you, it was simple. It was exactly what was happening. You were explaining it perfectly, there was no reason for Wonwoo not to understand. Starting to speak again, you stop when Wonwoo shakes his head. You feel his fingers trail up your forearm as he lets out a sigh before they once again encircle your wrist.
“He doesn’t get what he wants.” Gesturing his head towards the shower, Wonwoo takes a step back from you, gently pulling you from the wall. “Take a shower; we can talk about the pictures later. Fuck all of them.”
Opening your mouth, you close it once again when Wonwoo mutters something under his breath before leaving you in the room alone. You were confused and surprised by his reaction. You had expected him to talk you into taking whatever pictures Park wanted. You had been mentally preparing yourself for some humiliating experience, but instead you were now alone in a warm bathroom.
Looking at yourself in the mirror, you frown at the sight. You can see the dirt smeared on your skin and how disheveled your hair has gotten from a lack of care. Giving one last glance at the door, almost certain Wonwoo will come back in, you let out a slow, calming breath before stripping yourself of your borrowed clothes and making your way to the much welcomed shower.
Leaning against the wall outside of the bathroom, Wonwoo listens to the sound of the water hitting the shower floor. He can imagine it running along your body, though he tries to push that thought from his mind quickly, afraid of where it might lead. Instead, he reminds himself how good a shower must feel after a couple days of being with him and how he has treated you. Sighing to himself, Wonwoo imagines the water pooling at your feet after it washes away the dirt, hoping it will wash away some of your stress, just like he hopes it will wash away his own.
Taking his cellphone from his jeans, Wonwoo scowls at a text from Bonhwa before replying and shoving it back into his pocket. He had no respect for the man. Not that he had before learned from you, but now he had no reason to keep any loyalty towards him.
Park: Chop chop, Jeon. I want my pictures.
Wonwoo: When I’m ready.
Picking up his duffle bag, Wonwoo climbs the flight of stairs to the second floor, turning on the light for the bedroom. He had many safe houses. They were in various locations around Korea and other countries. None were in his real name and each one was kept stocked by people he could trust. This one was no different.
Opening the dresser, Wonwoo furrows his brows at the clothing choice. There was plenty for him, but he was limited in his choices for you. It wasn’t his every day that he kept a mark with him and clothed them. Tossing a few things onto the bed, Wonwoo turns his attention to the closet, tilting his head at a few items near the back. Things he had forgotten had been left behind by those he would never name. He found himself pleased with his own hoarding tendencies as he pulled a simple summer dress and sweater from the closet, hoping they would fit you.
With a towel wrapped around your body, you look through the drawers in the bathroom for things you might be able to use. A face wash and moisturizer catch your eye and you find yourself wondering if they belong to Wonwoo or if he had friends, perhaps a girlfriend you weren’t aware of. Shaking your head, you quickly use the products and relish in the feeling of brushing your teeth before you hear the sound of Wonwoo’s voice on the other side of the door.
“Y/N? I—are you decent? Well, decent enough for me to come in?”
You think back to Wonwoo peeking over his shoulder at you changing at the apartment as you glance towards the door. Your cheeks start to heat up as you hold your towel tighter and pull the door open, letting Wonwoo inside if he wants.
Wonwoo takes a deep breath as his eyes move over your legs and up to your face. You watch as he seems to forget what he is doing for a brief moment before lifting his hands to show you the clothes he has collected for you. Furrowing your brows, you can’t help but smile even slightly at the sight of the dress over Wonwoo’s arm. It’s a simple soft green knee mid-thigh length dress that you know you would have never worn before all of this, but now the dress looks like comfort and kindness.
“I don’t know if they will fit you, but they are all I could find. I could get you some of my things if you’d prefer—”
“These are great, Wonwoo, if that’s okay?”
Reaching out for the dress and sweater, you accidentally brush your hand over Wonwoo’s before pulling your hand back on instinct. You find yourself nervous, perhaps even a bit afraid of what his response might be. Looking down, your brows furrowed, you hear Wonwoo say your name softly, drawing your attention back up to him.
“It’s okay. Get dressed and we can…” You watch Wonwoo scoff into a laugh at how ridiculous he feels at his own words as he says them. “Talk about your situation.”
Not really understanding what Wonwoo means, you just nod and take the clothes from him, stepping back so he can shut the bathroom door once again. Your fingers carefully brush over the fabric in your hands and you feel goosebumps spread over your skin at how soft the sweater feels. Had Wonwoo noticed how cold you had been at the apartment? Was this a kind gesture to keep you warmer here? Should you not think about it like that?
Glancing up at the ceiling as you hear water running, you tilt your head, realizing that Wonwoo was probably using another bathroom to take his own shower. He was trusting you not to run. Granted, he had given you a warning not to run. He had set an alarm and told you what would happen, but there was still a level of trust in taking a shower knowing you were done.
With the sweater over your new dress, you look at the front door. There were three deadbolts, a chain, and a keypad that you had heard Wonwoo type something into earlier. It would take you a few minutes to get them all undone and the alarm would go off, but then you could run. You were exhausted, you were hungry, and now you were confused.
Running your fingers over the soft sleeves of your sweater, you look behind you up the stairs, where you can still hear running water. Was this a test? Your mind goes back to what Wonwoo said before he left you alone but more so about what he said before your shower.
“He doesn’t get what he wants.”
Moving away from the door, you look around the living room. Your eyes fall to the soft couch, a sigh slipping from your lips as you sit down on it, feeling the cloth against the back of your legs. It was so much nicer than the dirty leather of the one in the apartment. You weren’t sure how this house worked if Wonwoo lived here often, but it was clean and almost felt like home.
Running his fingers through his wet hair, Wonwoo looks around the bedroom, listening for any signs of you. He hadn’t gotten any alerts that the doors had been opened, but if you had, he wouldn’t have really blamed you. Sure, he had warned you not to do it, but that had been before everything he had learned about your father and now if you walked out that door, he might just let you go. The only thing stopping him was the fear that Bonhwa’s men would find you before he did.
Jogging down the steps, Wonwoo tugs his shirt down his torso, only to meet your eyes as he rounds the doorway into the living room. You were lying on the couch and it reminded him so much of the apartment. The main difference here is that you looked comfortable and somehow even more beautiful. You almost took his breath away in the new dress, the sweater’s sleeves held at your palms by your fingers.
“Hey…”
Meeting Wonwoo’s eyes, you sit up quickly. That fear that he might be upset at your comfort suddenly hits you until he sighs. Gesturing with his thumb over his shoulder, Wonwoo closes his eyes in thought before finally speaking.
“I’ll make something warm to eat. I can’t promise it’ll be good or not expired. But it’ll be food. Then we can talk.”
Smiling to yourself, you lift your hand to your lips to hide your smile as you watch Wonwoo move across the hall into the kitchen. There had been a shift in him over the past couple of days but more so today. This Wonwoo was still intense; he frightened you at times, but he was also warm and comforting in a strange way.
Turning to lay on your stomach, you rest your chin on your arm, watching Wonwoo open cabinets. From where you are, you can hear him muttering something to himself and see him occasionally reach up to scratch at his brow before he finally seems to figure out what to do next.
After a few minutes of struggling, he finally manages to find a pot for water and some ramen. Looking over his shoulder back into the living room, Wonwoo has to hide his smirk, finding you watching him from the couch. The way you are lying is cute—your ankles crossed, knees bent so your feet can be up in the air. It reminds him of girls in dramas watching television or writing in their diaries, not that he’s watched a drama or movie in years.
With ramen on the table in front of you, still in the pot, Wonwoo offers you a set of chopsticks as he sits near you on the floor. Shifting to sit next to him, you lean over the table to look down at the food with appreciation before giving the same look to Wonwoo.
“Thank you… I–I honestly didn’t expect you to give me anything.”
Taking a deep breath, Wonwoo nods, gesturing for you to take the first bite. He watches you savor some of the noodles as his brows furrow, feeling his phone vibrate in his sweatpants pocket. He knew he should check it, but that would require caring what Park Bonhwa had to say, and right now he didn’t. Right now, the only thing that he cared about was getting something in your stomach and having a conversation that didn’t end with you being terrified of him.
“That’s fair. I haven’t—look, this isn’t the most ideal situation we are in.”
Scoffing, you stop yourself immediately, lowering your head apologetically at your gut reaction. You couldn’t help but find the irony in Wonwoo’s words. You knew it wasn’t an ideal situation but if it wasn’t ideal for him, he should try being you. You were the one who was going to be dead soon.
“You’re allowed to react, princess.”
That name. At first, it had made you angry, but you figured that was probably Wonwoo's desired reaction to it. Now the name makes your cheeks burn with something else. It made you feel shy and while it still made you feel smaller than Wonwoo, you didn’t hate that feeling. His larger than life stature over you, standing between you and Park somehow seemed like a good thing right now.
“Just don’t wanna piss you off. I’m good at that, if you remember...”
Smirking, Wonwoo tilts his head before leaning to eat some of the noodles and licking the broth from his lips. He did remember, but the you that had seemed dead set on frustrating him to no end a few days ago now seemed like she was miles away. You were someone different and he wanted to find the woman who was in the middle.
“Trust me, I do.”
Watching you, Wonwoo can’t help the way he has to take a breath as you blow at the ramen with a small smile on your face at his words. If this were any other situation, one might mistake it for a date, but he knew the reason you were here just as much as you did.
“Do you even want to go home?”
The question makes you stop what you are doing mid bite. Furrowing your brows, you glance over at Wonwoo, finding his eyes on you. Your stomach tightens at how intense his gaze is, the weight behind it and his question. It was a loaded question with many different possible answers, but only one that you could think of.
“No.”
Looking down at his hands, Wonwoo nods, letting that reality sink in. He had a few options laid out in front of him of how this week could end. He could follow through with what he had been paid to do. He could kill you, put your body on your father’s doorstep, and call it a job well done. He could let you go, never thinking of you again, but Wonwoo finds himself struggling to picture himself doing that and you surviving. Then there was the third option...
“I have a friend—mmm, no, let’s call him an acquaintance; we aren’t friends. This acquaintance has been in touch about you.”
The words all make sense but yet you shake your head, not understanding what any of them mean. You didn’t know Wonwoo’s acquaintances or his friends and you weren’t sure what they would want with you, unless...
“He wants to kill me?”
Meeting your eyes almost in shock by your assumption, Wonwoo shakes his head and sighs. The sigh is loud and exasperated because clearly he’s not going quickly enough and explaining well enough.
“No, Jesus, Y/N… No, he’s—he’s a detective. I could either hand you over to him or—or I could have him help me let you disappear.”
Looking around the room, you repeat some of what Wonwoo had said back to yourself as if trying to understand it before meeting his eyes. He had changed his mind. He wasn’t going to kill you. You hadn’t been wrong in the shift you had seen in him; you just didn’t understand why.
“Why? I mean… not that I’m not grateful and that I don’t want it—”
“Which one?”
Cutting you off with his question, Wonwoo slides his arm along the couch cushion behind your back as you look at him, lost for words. He expected a quick decision and you weren’t sure you were capable. Shaking your head, you lay down your chopsticks and lean back against the couch, a bit surprised to feel Wonwoo’s hand against your arm. Looking down at his fingers, you furrow your brows, watching them flex once before he braves the water and rests them against your bicep.
“I need to know because there isn’t a lot of time for this to work. I’m not trying to scare you by saying that, but honestly, you should still be scared. I’m not saying anything about me; I’m not going to hurt you… but Bonhwa…”
Meeting Wonwoo’s eyes once again, you have a new, intrigued look on your face at learning a name. You hadn’t heard the name Bonhwa before; was that Park’s first name?
“He would? Park Bonhwa?”
Realizing what he had said, Wonwoo looks down with a sigh. Nodding, he lifts his free hand to rub at his brows before looking up at you once again.
“Yes, he’s a piece of shit, Y/N. Some bigger piece of shit hired him to do this. Somebody who doesn’t like your father.”
Now you are starting to learn things and understand them. You didn’t know anyone named Park Bonhwa, but your father had plenty of enemies and plenty of people pretending to be friends who would want his downfall.
“So if I disappear, how does that work?”
Pursing his lips, Wonwoo shifts closer to you and makes an unsure sound.
“I’ll have to work it out with Cheo—with my acquaintance. If it’s what you want, I’ll figure it out.”
Looking over Wonwoo’s face, you find yourself nodding, convinced by his words but still something hangs in the air. There was something that made you pause and look at him with uncertainty.
“Why are you doing this for me? You hate me.”
Looking at his hand as he picks at the sweater resting over your arm, Wonwoo sighs at your question. It was a fair one. He hadn’t given you any other reason to think otherwise. He had pretty much told you more than once that he didn’t like you, that he hated you, but you had returned the favor. Looking at you now, Wonwoo was almost too shy to look back up at your eyes.
"Uh—yeah, well, shit changes, doesn’t it? When you aren’t trying to actively hate someone for the job and they aren’t being a bitch for fun?”
Letting out a scoff, you meet Wonwoo’s eyes, almost defiantly realizing how close he is. You can see his brows knit together as his eyes waver from your eyes to your lips and back. Neither of you are idiots or immune to the tension blanketing the two of you as your eyes follow a similar path on his face.
“It wasn’t for fun... all the time. Most of the time it was—”
“A shield?”
Nodding, you find your brows pulling together this time at Wonwoo’s words, as he seems to know you better than to anticipate. He had been paying attention to you and listening to what you had been saying over the past few days. Inhaling softly, you feel Wonwoo’s fingers press against your arm as he mutters a curse under his breath, leaning his head in closer to yours. You can almost see the internal battle written on Wonwoo’s face as he struggles with the desire to act on his wants and instincts compared to what he knows he should do.
“Are you still afraid of me?”
Shaking your head, you pause to lick your lips and Wonwoo smiles, knowing you aren’t telling him the full truth. Maybe you weren’t as afraid of him as you once were, but there is still fear left. Giving into desire, Wonwoo leans in the last few inches, letting his lips barely brush against yours as he speaks, letting you decide to meet his kiss or pull away.
“Promised I wouldn’t hurt you. I won’t let anyone else either.”
A small whine escapes from your lips at Wonwoo’s confession and the feeling of his breath on your lips. You have a split second to consider your options before you give in to your desires and meet his kiss gently. You have little to no reason to trust Wonwoo and yet now everything in your being is telling you that you can, as his lips mesh with yours.
Flexing your fingers, you dig them into the mattress under you, enjoying the feeling of it under you. There was something freeing about this fucked up situation you found yourself in. There were still some who expected something out of you, but you had the most unexpected shield.
Opening your eyes, you look at Wonwoo’s face as he sleeps beside you. After the simple kiss, he insisted you finish eating and ushered you upstairs to bed. You could remember the same man who had forced you up steps a few days earlier, but he seemed a million miles away now.
The man sleeping beside you now, his brows knit together as he dreamed, wasn’t that person. Perhaps he was on the surface, but underneath that mask, you were learning he was a warm, complicated person. He wasn’t the asshole you had called him so many times and you weren’t the bitch you pretended to be. There was an art to lying as much as you two had to one another.
Shifting slightly, you take a breath, only to hold it when Wonwoo’s eyes flutter open. He was apparently a light sleeper. You had wondered if he was; he always seemed to be awake at the apartment so seeing him asleep was a rare, fleeting treat. Looking over your face, Wonwoo’s lips pull up slightly in a smile before he turns to lay on his back with a sigh.
“Didn’t mean to wake you up.”
Shaking his head, Wonwoo rubs his eyes with his middle finger and thumb as he yawns. You smile watching him enjoy how domestic the moment feels, wishing it would never end. You find yourself letting your eyes move over Wonwoo a bit more brazenly while he’s distracted. How attractive he was had never escaped you; it had just been overshadowed by how much he had frightened you, but now, as he rubbed at his tired eyes, you found him even more handsome.
“I don’t really sleep.”
Pursing your lips, you pull your legs up towards your stomach under the blanket, your thumbnail resting against your lips as you try to hide your smile. Wonwoo lifts his brows at your reaction to him, his eyes doing something similar to yours, but he takes a bit more time before taking a breath and licking his lips.
“What? You don’t believe me?”
Resting your head on your bicep, you shake it slightly, move your hand from your lips.
“It’s not that. You just confuse me. I’m not sure you are human.”
Smiling, Wonwoo lifts his brow and lets his eyes once again move over your pretty face. If he let himself, he could imagine this being a very normal situation. Just two people lying in bed, getting closer to one another. It was almost terrifying to him that he wanted that, but looking at you as you nuzzled your cheek to the soft sweater you were now lovingly wearing, Wonwoo yearned for it.
“I am… I just tend to run off caffeine and power naps.”
Your laugh is welcomed music to Wonwoo’s ears. He had heard it before, when you were living your life before all of this. It hadn’t sounded like this, though. It was almost robotic then and annoying. It had gotten on his nerves; everything about you before had, and it had made hurting you easier. He couldn’t imagine hurting the girl in front of him now. Now he was fighting the urge to run his fingers over your face and over your hair. He was trying to convince himself not to kiss you again.
“That can’t be healthy. Someone needs to take care of you, Kim Wonwoo.”
Hearing the fake name that he had given you and your father, Wonwoo’s smile fades. You watch Wonwoo’s eyes move away from yours, his mouth opening and closing as if he’s trying to think of what to say. You are about to ask him what’s wrong when the sound of his phone ringing draws his attention away from you and towards the nightstand.
Narrowing his eyes at the name on the screen, Wonwoo sits up, swiping it almost angrily from the top of the nightstand before answering the phone. Your eyes follow him as he slides from the bed and runs his fingers through his hair, his voice suddenly deeper and rougher.
“What the fuck do you want now?”
Scowling at Wonwoo’s attitude, Park Bonhwa slams the door to his Cadillac, giving a lingering look to his driver. They all knew he was in a bad mood, he had been since he had taken on this contract and it was giving them all a headache. Jeon Wonwoo was a serious pain in the ass.
“You know what I fucking wanted, motherfucker! Now I just want her corpse. I’ll send someone else to get it if you are too much of a pussy to—”
“You won’t do anything!”
Being cut off by Wonwoo, Bonhwa smacks his hand against the metal door in front of him. The professional that had come so highly recommended was starting to look more like a petulant child than a hitman.
“Who the hell do you think you are to tell me what I can and can’t do, Jeon?”
Swallowing hard, Wonwoo glances back at you, realizing you could hear more of his conversation than he would like. He could see the tears on your cheeks and he needed to fix this. Pulling open the bedroom door, Wonwoo slams it behind him, leaving you alone and unable to hear anything more than his muffled angry voice and the occasional word, but it was enough. You understood what “Park” wanted. Wonwoo had offered to help you disappear, but maybe that was too difficult.
Hissing out his words like venom, Wonwoo glares at the window in front of him as if Bonhwa is in front of him. At this point, he wished the man was. He would let him take your place and make this all a lot simpler.
“I’ll take care of it! Wire the goddamn money, you piece of shit. If your timeline can speed up, my price can go up.”
Wonwoo can hear Bonhwa’s argument starting but he is quick to cut him off before he starts by ending the call. There was a lot to explain to you and a lot to apologize for. Granted, he didn’t really owe you or anyone an apology for living his life and making a living in the best way he knew how. It wasn’t his fault he had fallen—no, he wasn’t going to admit that even to himself.
Scrolling through his contacts, Wonwoo hits another name, placing the phone back against his ear and letting it ring. His head was starting to hurt. He hadn’t slept enough; like he had told you, he rarely did, but now it was starting to weigh on him.
“What? Turning yourself in?”
Wonwoo scoffs at Choi Seungcheol’s words as he slides down the wall outside of the bedroom. There had only been one man who had even come close to catching him and it had been Detective Choi Seungcheol. The only reason he hadn’t was because of a deal struck between a desperate man and an even more desperate, not always by the book, detective. It had worked in Wonwoo’s favor then and he hoped it would now.
“Never. Need to ask for that favor.”
Rolling his eyes, Seungcheol glances around his office before leaning to close the door with a deafening click. He owed Wonwoo more than one favor, but luckily for him so far none of them had bit him in the ass. He hoped this one wouldn’t either.
“And you need to get that girl home, Wonwoo. How long are you gonna keep her away from her family?”
"Forever, hopefully, with your help.”
That hadn’t been the answer that Seungcheol had been expecting. He hadn’t heard about your kidnapping through your father until another reliable source brought it to his attention. It was only when he and another officer approached your father did he even admit to you being taken. Seungcheol knew there was something strange about this case. It didn’t matter if fathers were told not to tell the police about their children being kidnapped, they would. That was just a father’s instinct to protect a child. Your father was different. He seemed like he had already accepted your death.
“I—and why the fuck would I—”
“Because I’m going to help you get a promotion, Cheol.”
Wonwoo knew that would get Seungcheol’s attention and it did. Now the detective was listening, his lips pursed as he looked at his computer in front of him, deep in thought, before finally letting out a breath.
“How so?”
Of course, he would want to know what he would get out of it first. That detail didn’t make Wonwoo feel the best about this, but he would go about it however he needed to in order to help you now. Glancing towards the closed door, hoping that you weren’t upset with him for walking out, Wonwoo chewed at his cheek and knocked his head back against the wall.
“Her dad, I think I can get—no, I know I can get enough to blow a whistle on his company. It’d be one hell of a bust for you, Detective Choi.”
Leaning forward to rest his elbow on his desk, Seungcheol scoffed at Wonwoo’s attempt at flattery. It was working. He knew that Y/L/N Financial Incorporation was shady, but he couldn’t touch it. There were too many lawyers and hoops to jump through in the corporate world that gave Seungcheol ulcers, but if it were laid in his lap… Well, that was a different story. Bringing down a corrupt trading company that many had lost their money to could do just what Wonwoo had said. He could have almost any position in the department that he wanted, or he could run for office.
“And what do you need from me?”
A breath of relief washes over Wonwoo at Seungcheol’s question. He knew the man had other connections and between the two of them and pulling a few other strings, they could solve this.
“She doesn’t want to go home, Cheol, and they all want her dead. So, we give them what they want. She gets a fresh start and a new name.”
This wasn’t something easily done, but Seungcheol knew that Wonwoo knew that. He knew what he was asking of him and now Seungcheol wasn’t sure if the prize was worth the work. Making a sound of concern, Seungcheol sits back in his chair, glancing towards his door, when Wonwoo speaks up once again.
“Have you met her father?”
Furrowing his brows, Seungcheol remembers talking to the man in his office. The older man had refused to come to the station, and even meeting in his own plush personal office seemed like an inconvenience. Talking about your kidnapping and possible impending death seemed like an inconvenience for him. Seungcheol remembered leaving frustrated and confused. He wasn’t a father yet but he hoped that he would be a better one than yours.
“Mm, a real son of a bitch.”
“He’s got a hell of a life insurance policy for Y/N. He doesn’t want her back, Cheol. Imagine how that might make her feel. She knew the moment I took her that she wasn’t going to make it, and I wasn’t even the one who told her.”
Guilt hits Seungcheol in the stomach. He wants to argue with Wonwoo, turn on the cop and get angry with him for taking you, but from the sound of your situation, maybe it was a good thing he had taken you out of it. He wasn’t an idiot; he had already been told the stories of the business parties and the deals your father tried to make involving you. Seungcheol shakes his head and scoffs, making a face as if he’d eaten something sour.
“Fine, I’ll help you—I’ll help Y/N. Get your information together to make it worth my time. You know what you’re askin’ for, Wonwoo. Your information isn’t good enough and I lose my job? I’ll kill you.”
Wonwoo grins at Seungcheol’s threat, though he knows it's a good one. He knew that Choi Seungcheol would be one of the only people who would probably be able to hunt him down and would kill him given the chance, but it wouldn’t happen.
“The information will be better than good.”
Picking at your nails, you lean your head back against the headboard, listening to Wonwoo’s muffled voice just outside of the bedroom. The first conversation had been heated and full of hatred, but this second one seemed to be going his way.
Your tears had dried on your cheeks, but the churning feeling hadn’t quite settled in your stomach by the time Wonwoo opens the door. He could almost feel how your attitude had shifted from before as he leaned against the doorframe. That smile that he had been enjoying was nowhere to be found, and he knew that laugh was going to be hard won.
“Y/N…”
You weren’t necessarily afraid of Wonwoo anymore. You weren’t even afraid or surprised by the situation; at this point, you were coming to terms with reality. Meeting his eyes, you feel the tears once again well up in your eyes as he frowns and shakes his head.
“It’s fine, Wonwoo.”
Moving on to the bed, Wonwoo reaches for your hand, trying to come up with the right words to explain things when you continue.
“I know you didn’t want me to overhear it, but it really is okay. I know my father doesn’t give a shit about me. He didn’t care about my mother, so why would I be different?” Using your free hand to rub at your nose, you glance down at your hand in Wonwoo’s. “If I could just ask a favor or two?”
Your words were breaking Wonwoo’s heart, but as you spoke, they felt necessary. Each word builds on one another, like an explanation of you, until you finally ask something of him. Humming softly to let you continue, Wonwoo swallows hard, reaching out with his free hand to push at your tears on your cheek with his thumb.
“I don’t want to be in pain and could you make my death mean something? Make it a lesson for him? He’s going to get even richer from it, but that doesn’t mean—-”
Having heard enough, the implication of you asking him to make your death not painful, Wonwoo slides his hand along your cheek to cup your face.
“Stop, Y/N… just—shh, please, princess?”
Closing your eyes when Wonwoo stops you mid sentence, you lean into his touch, feeling his forehead rest against yours. You meant every word. You hated the idea of being overwhelmed with pain or fear at the moment of your death, just as much as you hated your father using your death for his own gain. You felt like those were valid wishes from a dead woman, but maybe they were too hard for the one who had to fulfill them.
“I can’t listen to you talk like that. Fuck—”
Wonwoo was a cold man on most days. He didn’t have many emotions and none that would be shared with most people, but today he felt tears collecting on the rims of his eyes. He couldn’t remember the last time he had cried or the last time his chest felt so heavy as he had someone in his hands. The feeling of your skin against his palm was better than anything he could imagine, and he knew he would do anything for you and do anything to keep you close to him in that moment.
“I’m not going to kill you. I told you that. They don’t get to win. Baby… I—I mean, fuck, I told you that already.”
Hearing “baby” slip off Wonwoo’s lips makes fresh tears slip down your cheeks. It was almost cruel the cards that the world was dealing you. In your mind, there was no way you’d be able to keep this man in front of you, so why were you once again being tortured by wanting him and his love? You were starting to understand him, or so you thought, and he wasn’t the type to keep people around or love them.
Shaking your head, you try to lean back, wanting to make this separation easier on you and Wonwoo, but your fingers hold you to him. A sound of pain escapes Wonwoo’s lips as he slides along your arm and he shakes his head in return.
“I’ll make you disappear; remember, I said I knew someone, and I’ll—” The words seem difficult and unplanned as Wonwoo leans back, his fingers once again trying to get rid of your tears as you meet his eyes. He looks desperate, almost like a different person—a man not willing to lose what’s in front of him. “I’ll disappear with you.”
Wrapping your hands around Wonwoo’s wrists, you give him a confused look. There were so many questions on your mind because so many things about what he just said didn’t make sense to you. You didn’t understand how his friend could just make you disappear and go with you.
“Why?” Now the same confusion was written on Wonwoo’s face as you asked the one word question, prompting you to speak again. “Why would you disappear with me, Wonwoo?”
Swallowing hard, Wonwoo strokes his thumb along your cheek. That was a valid question. You had every right to ask that, and he should answer it. Furrowing his brows, Wonwoo licks his lips and glances down at yours before cursing under his breath. He knew the answer, it was just the most difficult thing he had ever admitted to another person in his life.
“I—shit, Y/N… it’s cause…”
You watch Wonwoo struggle with his words, feeling his fingers move over your skin as his brows furrow, almost in pain at how hard he’s trying to manifest his sentence. What was so hard to say to you? Sighing, you start to pull away again when Wonwoo’s lips meet yours and you only whimper into the kiss.
Wonwoo hopes the kiss will be enough to explain what he’s trying to say, but even as he deepens it and his tongue swipes along the seam of your lips, he knows it’s not. He can feel your hand grabbing at his bicep and the words bubble up in his throat, escaping on to your lips like a breath.
“I love you.”
Your eyes close tighter at Wonwoo’s words, the confession hitting you in the chest like a brick. You scratch at his arm under your fingers and let out a soft sob into the kiss, feeling him nod, almost understanding you without words. The tension in the room is thick and warm. It felt like a blanket in the middle of the summer, making you both feel like you were overheating.
Laying you back on the bed, Wonwoo hovers over you, looking over your face, when he finally pulls back from the kiss. Your tears still flow freely from the corners of your eyes, causing him to swipe at them and shake his head, wishing he could will them away with a single word.
“I do; I’m sorry—”
Wrapping your hand into the front of Wonwoo’s t-shirt, pull him down hard to meet your lips, speaking against them as he starts to apologize for loving you. You silence him with your kiss, letting him settle between your thighs as you pull your knee up towards his hip. Wonwoo groans softly into your mouth, his brows finally relaxing, feeling you invite him closer to you.
With your free hand, you run your fingers through Wonwoo's hair, arching your back as his fingers gather your dress at your hip. After nipping at your lips, he tilts back to look down at you, searching your eyes before staring at his hand as he exposes more of your skin. The air crackles with electric anticipation as desire intensifies between you and Wonwoo. Every touch and every glance fuels the growing fire within, leaving you both yearning for more, unable to resist the magnetic pull between your bodies. On an exhale, you let out a soft whine, walking your fingers along Wonwoo's jaw, your words coming out breathy and soft.
“Don’t apologize for saying that to me, Wonwoo.”
Closing his eyes, Wonwoo turns his attention back towards you, leaning to press his lips against your wrist. He knew he had a lot to explain to you. There was a lot you didn’t understand, a lot of half truths he had told you. He didn’t wait anymore, not when he rested between your warm thighs and felt your fingers tighten on his shirt, keeping him close to you like you never wanted to lose him. He was afraid once you knew the full truth about him, you wouldn’t want him this close to you again.
“Want you so fucking bad, princess.”
Wonwoo’s words are quiet, his lips moving to press against your jaw as he lays his body against yours. You whine, finally letting go of his shirt in place of wrapping your arm around his waist so you can pull his shirt up his back. All that tension in the room feels like a fire burning around you when you hear him say those words out loud.
Nodding, you lift your hips towards Wonwoo, feeling him smile against your skin before he furrows his brows and whines into a groan. Fingers slide under your dress, along your inner thigh, until finally Wonwoo finds what he was searching for. He can feel your warmth through your damp lace and it’s driving him crazy.
Glancing up at you, Wonwoo watches your lips fall open as he uses his middle finger to press the lace between your folds. It doesn’t take more than a second for him to put pressure on your already throbbing clit, and you are wanting and needing more.
“Please… please, more…”
Wonwoo feels his cock twitch in at your breathy moans. Each new word on your lips—better than anything he had ever experienced. There was no other high that he could think of that could compare to the way his brain soared at such simple words slipping from between your pretty lips. He could feel himself becoming addicted to you with each breathy moan that he earned.
He wanted to give you everything you wanted and more; it would be easy. He could move his fingers ever so slightly and have his fingers inside of you, but looking at your face, Wonwoo paused. Swallowing hard, Wonwoo puts his head down, kissing your collarbone in the process as you feel his fingers slide to your thigh.
“Wha—Wonwoo?”
Reaching for his hand, trying to get him to go back to what he had been doing, you feel Wonwoo’s hand wrap around your wrist. Instead of letting you guide his hand, he lifts yours to his mouth, kissing your fingers as he meets yours eyes, giving you an apologetic look.
“I do want you, baby... but I need to explain some things to you first. I need you to understand who you are letting touch you, so that if you don’t want—”
Sliding up in the bed under Wonwoo, you cup his face, pressing your lips to his to silence him before he starts rambling. You weren’t stupid; you knew there were lies and obviously plenty weighing on his mind, but that didn’t stop you from wanting him. Meeting his eyes, you wait for him to speak, finally seeing some of the tension once again release from his face.
“Earlier, uh, you called me Kim Wonwoo.”
Nodding, you trace Wonwoo’s cheek as he settles on the bed in front of you. His hands slide over your legs, letting you adjust so that you are more comfortable. When you drape your leg over his, Wonwoo glances down at your exposed knee, tracing a small scar, trying to distract himself as he speaks.
“That’s not my name. I mean, sort of. It’s Jeon Wonwoo.”
Afraid to meet your eyes, Wonwoo draws shapes on your leg as he continues to explain his life to you. This is the only job he’s ever really known. He doesn’t explain how he got into it, but he’s hurt a lot of people and though he doesn’t say it, you understand he’s killed several people.
“Did they deserve it?”
The question makes Wonwoo’s throat feel like it’s closing up. That was the most difficult question he had ever been asked. This was why he didn’t have emotions or show them. You were bringing out his emotions and making his heart feel things that he hadn’t felt in decades. Watching Wonwoo lean his head back, you feel sorrow for the man in front of you. You want to fix his life, but then you remember how fucked up your own life is as he laughs sadly and shakes his head before shrugging.
“I don’t know, babe. No, not all of them. I didn’t ask them about their morals.”
Shushing Wonwoo, you tilt his head back down to look at you as you lean to brush your lips over his again, feeling him melt under your touch and kiss. It should matter more to you about Wonwoo’s past and possibly his future, but you find that you are more concerned about how he feels about you.
“Did I deserve it?”
Grabbing your wrists, Wonwoo sits back, staring at you, before letting go of one hand to brush his fingers over your cheek. It was a painful question, but a fair one. You had every right to ask it and he needed to answer it no matter how much it hurt him to do it.
“I thought you did at first. Made it easier to take you, to scare you.” Taking a breath, Wonwoo traces the shape of your ear with his fingers meeting your eyes. “But now I know you didn’t deserve any of this. I’m sorry, Y/N. If you wanna walk out that door, I’ll let you leave.”
Wonwoo’s hand starts to drop from your face as he finishes what he needs to say. He looks defeated and certain you are going to not only kick him out of bed, but worse, you might actually want to leave. The moment his fingers drop from your jaw, you shake your head and move forward, hearing a soft, surprised gasp escape from Wonwoo’s lips when you put his back on the bed. Straddling his hips, you nudge your nose against his and tease him by brushing your lips like a whispered word along his, making him lean up to chase you before you speak.
“I thought you said you’d disappear with me, Jeon Wonwoo?”
His real name on your lips almost floors Wonwoo. His head resting back on the bed, Wonwoo nods, reaching up to once again cup your face with his hand as he mutters his promises.
“I will, yes. I promise... as soon as we can.”
Crashing your lips into his, you hear Wonwoo groan deeply at the feeling. The kiss is different, it’s almost sealing the promise and you both seem to realize that. Fingers once again slide under your dress so that Wonwoo can trace the curve of your ass as you sit down over his half hard cock trapped in his sweatpants.
You were so warm even with his pants and your thin panties, and it was causing Wonwoo’s mind to malfunction. It had been a long time since he had let himself really enjoy sex and a woman’s body for more than just a carnal need. If this had been anyone else, it would be over in minutes without much more than a word said from either person. Everything about you had Wonwoo’s brain screaming to take his time and teach you he could be better.
“Fuck… baby.” Groaning into something that sounds more like a whimper, Wonwoo rocks his hips up to meet yours, feeling you roll your hips over him. “Lay down, let me take care of you.”
Smiling, you sit up, running your fingers over Wonwoo’s chest, feeling him take deep breaths under your touch. In the past, you would have agreed to something like that without question. You would be the first to admit that you were lazy in bed with other people, a bit of a pillow princess, but with Wonwoo, you wanted to be something different. He made you want to show him more, give him more. Show him he is worth more. He was worth the risk.
Shaking your head, you slide down the length of his body, feeling Wonwoo’s eyes on you as he tells you to let him take over once again. He is silenced when your hot breath fans over the front of his sweatpants and his cock jerks almost violently in reaction.
Pressing his head back against the bed, Wonwoo just nods, lifting his hips as your fingers press into the top of his sweatpants, working them down his thighs. Your eyes focus on his face, the way he bites at his bottom lip when his cock is exposed to the air and you for the first time. Finally looking down, you tilt your head and swallow hard, loud enough for Wonwoo to hear your reaction when your eyes move over his cock from base to tip.
“You okay? Princess… I said, let me—”
“Shhh, you are just so big, Wonwoo. It’s a compliment. Take off your shirt for me.”
Your words go straight to Wonwoo’s head and make his face burn, the flush evident running from his neck to his cheeks as he lets out a slow breath. Dropping his pants into the floor, you keep your eyes on him, enjoying the view as he does as you ask, tugging his t-shirt over his head and tossing it across the room.
Laying back reluctantly, he sits back up on his elbows as his cock leaks pre-cum against his abdomen, his eyes moving over you while you shift closer, running your hand along his thigh.
“Baby—c’mon… Let me see you at least.”
Smirking slightly, you work the sweater over your head as Wonwoo watches carefully.
“I think you are being impatient.”
Quietly laughing, Wonwoo reaches out to run his thumb along your knee, his eyes following your fingers as you work your dress up your body.
“Maybe… but you are so fucking beautiful and you won’t let me touch you first. I was close before... you were begging me.”
Humming in agreement with Wonwoo, you hand him your dress, watching him smile as he drops it on the floor with his clothes. His eyes stay focused on you as you reach behind your back to unclasp your bra, feeling it give way.
“Maybe I want you to beg me instead.”
Lifting his brow, Wonwoo takes a deep breath as your bra falls from your body. He knew you were perfect. There had been no doubt about that from the moment he first saw you as your bodyguard, but seeing you like this and feeling this way about you was a privilege.
“I don’t beg for things, princess.”
Tilting your head, you sit back on your ass between Wonwoo’s legs. With one leg on either side of his, you lift your hips, working your panties down. You hear his breath hitch as you lift one leg and then the other, slipping them off and letting them hang on your fingers before you offer them to him with a question in your eyes.
“You don’t?”
Reaching out to take your panties from you, Wonwoo scoffs when you pull them back just as his fingers graze them. He knows he could simply move and take them from you, but he knows what you want and you were making his mouth water. Licking his lips, Wonwoo tightens his jaw and meets your eyes, putting out his hand.
“But I will for you. Please, baby? Don’t tease me.”
Teasing Wonwoo was fun and it was powerful, but giving him something that he needed was just as rewarding. Smirking, you put your panties in Wonwoo’s hand, moving back to your knees as you watch him bring them to his nose, taking a deep breath of you. Only once he’s had his fill does he drop them next to the bed with the rest of the clothes and lick his lips, swallowing hard at the sight of you.
"Sure, I can’t take care of you first?”
Shaking your head, you listen to Wonwoo groan your name when your fingers wrap around his cock. He is heavy in your hand and you find yourself wanting that weight on your tongue. You want him to moan your name like that as you swallow as much of his cock as you can… so instead of answering him, you act on your desires.
Falling back on the bed, Wonwoo curses loudly as your warm mouth wraps around him. Letting your mouth meet your hand, you moan around Wonwoo, sucking on his head as you pull back, only to sink back down over him without warning. It had been far too long since Wonwoo had been with someone even close to as determined as you in bed and that was becoming too evident as he struggled to keep himself from cumming too soon.
“Bab—shit! Y/N… slow—ah, don’t wanna…”
Pulling back from Wonwoo’s cock with a small popping sound, you feel his hips jerk under your hand as you continue to stroke him. Everything you had wanted from him was becoming a reality. You were dripping onto the bed under you from the sounds coming out of Wonwoo’s mouth and the taste of him on your tongue.
Clinging to the bedding under him, Wonwoo groans loudly as you press your tongue against his slit. Not wanting to cum into your mouth, he reaches to grab at your hair, whining your name and pushing his ass against the bed, trying to get away from your mouth.
“Wanna—please? Feels too good. Let me have you.”
Meeting Wonwoo’s eyes again, you lick your lips, tasking the pre-cum smeared on them, listening to another groan slip from between his lips at the sight. You were going to be the death of him before he got his cock in you at this rate.
Sitting back, you laugh when Wonwoo wastes no time turning over on the bed so he can get back between your thighs. With no lace between him and your pussy this time, he shakes his head and lets out a slow breath, lowering himself down to press kisses to your thighs before running his tongue through your wet folds.
Wonwoo groans, his fingers gripping you tighter and pulling you closer to his mouth as he tastes you for the first time. Every worry disappears, along with every thought in his mind, as he focuses on you and nothing else. Wrapping his arm around your leg, Wonwoo adjusts himself on the bed, listening to your soft whimpering moans, driving him to make you feel even better.
You could already feel yourself tightening around nothing as Wonwoo sucked around your clit, his fingers pushing your folds apart, giving him access to the sensitive bundle of nerves. You wanted and needed more. The desire to be full of him overwhelms your brain just as much as your impending orgasm.
“Plea—Wonwoo… your fingers. I need something inside of me.”
You clearly had no idea how sexy your words were because, as soon as you spoke them, Wonwoo was trying not to thrust his hips into the mattress to find relief. Clawing at Wonwoo’s arm, you whimper his name doing your best to get what you want at your pace. Nodding, he groans, leaning back just enough to watch as he works a finger into you, feeling your tight walls suck him in. You weren’t even close to being able to handle his cock if he had to work for one finger.
“Baby… relax.”
Scoffing, you roll your hips down over Wonwoo’s finger as he nips at your folds, sending waves of pleasure through you. How did he expect you to relax with what was going on between your legs? Shooting him a contemptuous look, you watch as Wonwoo grins up at you before looking back at his fingers as he gently adds a second.
“You’ve given me that look before, princess. Right before you told me you hoped I lost my job as your bodyguard.”
Thrusting his fingers deep into you, Wonwoo watches you arch your back, a loud moan dripping off your lips like honey. There had been times before all of this, when he had been playing the part of your bodyguard when he had brief moments of weakness, picturing turning you over a surface and fucking some respect into you. If the man he was then could see him now. He imagined that man would not only be shocked at how much he had changed in such a short time, but he would probably be jealous. Who wouldn’t be jealous to see your cum dripping down his palm towards his wrist as he continued to fuck you with his fingers?
“Yes, baby… Fuck—another one. Just like that. Cum all over my fingers; take another one.”
A third finger slips into you and you practically scream in pleasure at how full you feel. The first orgasm had made your thighs start to shake, but the second one had come on so quickly after the first that you were crying. Tears drip from your cheeks as you push your hips down over Wonwoo’s fingers until you can’t take it anymore, the overstimulation making you close your legs around his hand.
Giving you one more deep thrust of his fingers, Wonwoo presses his lips to your shin as he slowly and carefully slides his fingers from your warm, throbbing pussy. You were panting out your moans like a cat in heat and it was better than anything Wonwoo had ever seen or heard in his life. There was nothing staged that could measure up to you—no porn or even work of art that matched you.
Running his hands along your knees, Wonwoo meets your eyes as he works your legs apart, feeling them shake under his touch. He knew you were still sensitive, but his cock was aching for you. Resting between your legs, Wonwoo furrows his brows, feeling your wet folds against his shaft as he rocks his hips towards you. One more questioning look, asking for permission, and getting a frantic nod from you is all it takes for him to ease himself into you.
The feeling of Wonwoo inside of you is so much more than his fingers and it takes your breath away. Pressing your face against his neck, you gasp, feeling the stretch when he finally stops moving, his hips flush with yours. Closing his eyes, Wonwoo has to take a steady breath, feeling you clench around him, threatening to make him cum on the spot.
“Baby, breathe… Is it too much?”
Shaking your head, you cling to Wonwoo, afraid he will pull out and you’ll be empty again. You whine his name, leaning your head back onto the pillows, meeting his eyes. Searching your eyes for pain, Wonwoo lifts one of his hands to brush his thumb over your cheek as he waits patiently for you to adjust to him, though it takes every ounce of patience he has.
“Okay, just tell—tell me when I can move.”
Nodding quickly, you scratch at Wonwoo’s sides, hearing him hiss at the feeling. You were ready for him to move, but words were hard to form. You were finding it hard to think of anything other than him and the feeling of his cock buried so deep inside of you. Lifting your hips, you moan his name and Wonwoo groans, leaning to rest his forehead against yours. Warm breath fans across your lips as he nods and whispers, “Okay,” before moving slowly, not wanting to overwhelm you or himself too quickly.
Squeezing your eyes shut tightly, more tears roll from your eyes to your temples at how good it feels to have Wonwoo inside of you. The way his cock stretches you so perfectly and how his head brushes over your spot each time pulls out enough to push right back into your warm walls.
“Please, please, Wonwoo, baby... faster.”
Your pleas come out as sobbing moans, causing Wonwoo to give you a concerned look, but as soon as he sees the fucked out look on your face, he can’t help but give you what you want. His thrusts become more urgent and harder. With each one, Wonwoo feels you get that much tighter around his cock until finally the coil inside you snaps. He had thought you were wet before but feeling your cum on his cock was an experience that Wonwoo knew he would never forget and it was enough to send him barreling over the edge after you.
Resting his head against your neck, Wonwoo curses under his breath, feeling his cum seep out of you, mixing with yours. He was usually much more careful than this, but he had gotten lost in the moment. Shaking his head, Wonwoo carefully slides out of you and meets your eyes full of guilt, only to find you still full of bliss.
“I didn’t even ask, baby. I’m sorry—”
Sliding your hand along Wonwoo’s jaw to his neck, you shake your head and close your eyes. You knew what had happened and what could come of it, but that wasn’t something that you could concern yourself with today. Right now, you are just happy to be alive and in bed with Wonwoo. It was the first time in possibly your entire life that you were this happy and you wouldn’t let him spoil it with guilt.
“Don’t... just tell me that you love me again.”
Unable to stop his lips from pulling up in a smile, Wonwoo shakes his head at your reaction to the situation. Moving to lay beside you, knowing neither of you could stay like this for long without taking a shower, he pulls you into his arms and presses his lips against your neck. You smile, wrapping your arms around his.
“I love you, Y/N.”
“I love you too, Wonwoo.”
This was the longest you had seen Wonwoo sleep. Even as you ran your fingers delicately along the bridge of his nose, he barely flinched. A smile pulls at your lips at the sight and at how warm and safe you feel lying next to him as the sun rises.
During the time that you had been awake, Wonwoo’s phone had gone off twice. You had a good feeling that the missed calls were from Park Bonhwa, but you couldn’t bear the thought of waking Wonwoo or checking his phone. There was a beautiful silence surrounding you both and not even that man could ruin it, as long as you didn’t let him.
Tracing the dip of Wonwoo’s cupid’s bow, you watch as his lips twitch into a soft smile and his eyes slowly open. It was selfish of you to touch Wonwoo so much when he was sleeping so soundly, but seeing his eyes on you and feeling the comfort of them made it worth it.
Pulling you into his arms, Wonwoo grunts softly at the feeling of your cold fingers sliding along his ribs. He could get used to this—waking up and seeing you first thing. He wanted to get used to it, but there were things that had to happen first.
“Mm, morning, baby. “
Lips press against the top of your head and you find yourself nuzzling against Wonwoo’s chest, not wanting to face anything in the real world. You like the way his deep voice sounds when you are so close to his body, the way it seems to vibrate in his chest. Resting your ear against his chest, you smile and bite at your bottom lip, hearing Wonwoo laugh.
“Don’t wanna get up?”
Shaking your head, you whine, and Wonwoo runs his long fingers along your back, stopping to draw small circles along your spine before tracing each notch on his way up to your neck. He understood the sentiment and wanted to give you what you wanted. He wanted to give you everything you wanted now.
“We need to talk about what comes next. Cheol is going to work on what we need for you to disappear, but he needs payment.”
There was always a catch to everything. That was something that you understood from a very young age. Everything came with a price. Your father never let you think that money grew on trees. Despite knowing you were incredibly wealthy and that you could potentially have anything you wanted, he made you earn his respect before he would give you any allowance or credit cards. Your father’s respect had cost the most out of anything you had ever paid for in your life. You will never forget the day you told your mother that you loved your father more than her and watched her face fall.
“Mmkay, how much money does he need?”
Wonwoo shakes his head at the mention of money. Of course your mind would go to money first; that was how your father had probably raised you. It wasn’t your fault that you were the way you were; Wonwoo understood that now. You were broken because you were carefully shattered piece by piece by your father over the course of your life.
“Not money, baby. Information. Trust me, this will be good for everyone in the end.” Smirking, Wonwoo lifts his hand from your back to scratch at his eyebrow as he scoffs at his own words, correcting them. “Almost everyone.”
Information was a currency you were familiar with; it just wasn’t something you commonly used. You have seen your father get rich off information plenty of times. Leaning your head back, you glance up at Wonwoo, furrowing your brows as he lifts his hand to brush his fingers over your cheek.
“About my father?”
The next couple of hours you spend against Wonwoo go through what you know about your father’s company. You tell him more about the business dinners and dates that he has set up for you over the years and though Wonwoo listens carefully, he seethes. Every new piece of information he leaves about your father makes him hate the man even more.
It’s when you get to your mother that you find it more difficult to talk with confidence. You find strength in Wonwoo’s touch, his hands gliding over your skin as his lips press to your forehead, taking in each word. Your sorrow at losing the one person who meant something to you, becomes Wonwoo’s sorrow when tears drip from your cheek onto his chest.
“Baby… I know this is too much. I’m sorry, we can talk more about the business side—”
“It’s okay. It’s his fault.” Rubbing your nose hard, you pull your legs under you, letting Wonwoo tuck you into his side. “I don’t know how, but I just know it is. She didn’t just die.”
There is no doubt in Wonwoo’s mind that you are right about your assumption. With as much life insurance that your father had placed on you, he could only imagine the amount he would put on a spouse.
“He kept reminding me after her funeral that I loved him more. He kept giving me gifts and all this money…”
Leaning his head back against the headboard, Wonwoo tries to picture you mourning and your brute of a father wooing you out of it with possessions. The cold woman who had treated her staff like trash was just a reflection of him.
“He’ll pay for that, Y/N. I promise.”
You nod along with Wonwoo’s words, though you don’t understand how he plans on making that happen. In your eyes, your father was bulletproof. He was a cliff face that you kept hitting as the waves pushed you around like you were nothing.
Tracing the shape of your bottom lip as you rest against his shoulder, Wonwoo furrows his brows, feeling concern wash over him. You had talked until you couldn’t anymore. Exhaustion had taken over you and not even having him next to you or food in your stomach was enough to keep your eyes open any longer. You looked calm like this—breathing softly against his bare skin—even as you squeezed your eyes shut a bit tighter in your sleep.
Wonwoo carefully slides his arm from under you, letting your cheek rest against his palm as he adjusts the pillow under your head. Now you look comfortable. He hated the idea of not having you in his arms, but there was much left to do. Giving you one more glance as he swipes his phone from the nightstand, Wonwoo opens the bedroom door and closes it before making his way downstairs.
Seungcheol was trying not to get antsy about his current situation, but the minutes were ticking by and it didn’t seem like you or Wonwoo were in a rush. So when he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket, the detective lets out a sigh of relief, leaning against his car.
“I won’t lie, I had a few moments today when I thought you might be fucking me over.”
Smirking at Seungcheol’s words, Wonwoo uses his index finger to pull the blinds ever so slightly from the window so he can check the street out of habit.
“Just when we were starting to like one another?”
Getting behind the wheel of the Audi, Seungcheol scoffs and presses the button to start his car. The sooner he could be away from the station, the better, especially if this conversation was going to go where he imagined it to. Hearing the sound of the engine as Seungcheol wastes no time in pulling out of the parking garage, Wonwoo shakes his head, dropping the blinds back in place and lowering himself into a nearby armchair.
“I needed time to talk to Y/N. She’s the one with the most information, and she had plenty. Like I said, Cheol… you’ll get a promotion out of this.”
Seungcheol can’t stop himself from taking a deep breath in anticipation. If the information was as good as Wonwoo was alluding to, this could be the best decision he has ever made.
“I’m listening.”
“And I have terms.”
Of course he did. The good feeling that Seungcheol had for a fleeting moment sank right back into his chest with Wonwoo’s words. Leaning his head back against the leather headrest, Seungcheol tightens his grip on the steering wheel and narrows his eyes as he speaks.
“Again, I’m listening.”
Tilting his head, Wonwoo bites at his cheek out of a mixture of nerves and frustration. He knew that Seungcheol would be happy with what he had to tell him, but he had to make sure that you were taken care of. On top of that, he hadn’t known that he wanted to leave with you; that was a possible kink in the plan as far as Seungcheol might be concerned.
“New name, meaning all IDs.” Seungcheol groans in annoyance at Wonwoo’s request; it was what he had assumed, but as soon as he starts to speak, he is cut off and rendered speechless. “For both of us.”
“I—”
Picking at a loose string on the chair, Wonwoo listens to Seungcheol struggle to make heads or tails of what he had just asked of him before he continues.
“Money; we both know she can’t keep her accounts. We will need a safe flight out of Korea.”
With his head spinning at all Wonwoo was asking of him, Seungcheol pulls his car over, putting it in park, before letting out an unamused laugh.
“I—well fuck… anything else? Would you like for me to make her the Queen of England while I’m at it?” The amusement fades from his voice as he smacks at his dashboard. “Why are you asking for impossible things? How in the hell am I going to get you out of Korea?”
“Figure it out, Seungcheol! Or are you not interested in bringing down her piece of shit father?”
Throwing up his hands, Seungcheol scoffs in disbelief, unsure what could be worth giving up, Jeon Wonwoo.
“For what? Some shady trading? The insurance policy? Give me something better than that or I’m gonna bring both of your asses in.”
“Embezzlement, laundering, and possible murder.”
Every snide comment and scoff that Seungcheol has been giving Wonwoo stops when he hears those words.
“If—can she prove it?”
Looking down at his hands, Wonwoo digs his nail into his thumb, feeling frustrated with Seungcheol and the entire situation. You shouldn't have to prove anything. It was practically being laid out for him, but he understood that some horses had to be led to water.
“Y/N said there is a lawyer, Son Hyunwoo. Pay him enough and he’ll spill everything.”
Typing the name into his phone and keeping Wonwoo on speaker in his car, Seungcheol nods, looking over the practice that Son Hyunwoo belongs to and some of his more prevalent clients. To the general public, his client list looked like a billboard for great service and reliability, but to a good detective, it screamed corruption.
“This is good. If he talks, I’ll get you what you need. I’ll be in touch.”
Wonwoo runs his fingers through his hair, taking a deep breath when the phone disconnects. He hoped for your sake, more than his own, that you were right.
— Two Days Later —
Bonhwa glares at his phone, seeing Wonwoo’s name. The man had been avoiding him like it was his job and now, just as he was about to have the dogs on his heels, he decided it was a good time to call. Gritting his teeth, Bonhwa answers his phone while pushing the heel of his hand under his nose to clean the white powder from it with a loud sniff.
“Wanna make this easier on everyone by bringing her to my office? I promise I won’t kill you; just break something.”
Rolling his eyes, Wonwoo had already prepared for Park Bonhwa’s empty threats. He wasn’t afraid of him anymore than he was afraid of a dog without teeth. He knew that Bonhwa couldn’t find him, which means he couldn’t find you. With time, if the two of you stayed in Seoul, he might get a sniff on a trail, but that wasn’t happening.
“I’ve been busy. Why are you so fuckin’ grumpy?”
Watching Seungcheol load a suitcase into the trunk of the car as he talks to you, Wonwoo furrows his brows, hearing Bonhwa’s voice go up an octave. He knew he was pushing his buttons, but he had a reason. There was always a reason behind what Wonwoo did.
“Why—why am I? You stupid son of a bitch! Half! I get half when I deliver proof of that bitch’s body to Hyong. Do you know how humiliating—”
Hearing Wonwoo sigh, Bonhwa stops mid sentence to stare at the desk in front of him. He had half a mind to get in his car right now and search the entire city for Jeon Wonwoo. Feeling his phone vibrate in his hand, he furrows his brow and lets out a disgruntled sound, ready to continue telling Wonwoo off when Wonwoo speaks first.
“Check your email. It’s done… makes no fucking sense to drive around with a body.”
Your eyes follow Wonwoo as he paces talking to Bonhwa, you barely hear Seungcheol talking to you. Noticing you aren’t understanding what he’s telling you, the man steps in front of you, obscuring your view.
“Can we finish our conversation now, Y/N? He’s fine. He’s taking care of what he needs to, so let’s go over the rest of this shit.”
You weren’t sure how you felt about Choi Seungcheol. You could see why he had been the one who had gotten close to Wonwoo, he was tenacious and abrasive. Nodding, you watch as Seungcheol lifts his brows and leans to take a folder out of his car, showing it to you.
“ID, passport, some cash... Wonwoo knows how to get more when it’s needed. This won’t be like the pampered life you had before, so—”
“You don’t know anything about me, Seungcheol.”
In the short time that he had known you, Seungcheol had heard you speak a handful of times. You had to let Wonwoo speak for you or at least let him carry the conversations. To say that he perhaps had a skewed view of you based on what he knew about your father and researching you, would be an understatement.
“Maybe not, but I’m just saying... make it last. Keep your mouth shut.”
Holding out your hand for the folder, you lock eyes with Seungcheol as he places it in yours.
“I’m not stupid.”
A smirk pulls at one side of the detective’s lips at your words. That he did know. There was no way Wonwoo would put this much effort into keeping you alive if you were. Letting go of the folder, Seungcheol takes a step back and glances back to Wonwoo as he grunts, bending the phone in his hand with some effort. The screen shatters first and then the metal gives way, effectively destroying the device before he tosses it towards the river, listening to the dull thud when it hits the surface.
“That bullshit is done. He’s satisfied with what you came up with.”
Scoffing, Seungcheol shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, feeling a bit offended at the insinuation that anyone wouldn’t be satisfied with his work. He had gone above and beyond for this. You had been lucky that the information you had provided for him had been the best he had received in a long time. It had served as motivation for what Seungcheol saw as a work of art.
“Yeah? Well maybe you should have dealt with pulling a Jane Doe out of the morgue.”
Wonwoo exhales an unamused laugh, sliding his hand around your waist. He knew that Seungcheol had worked hard and he appreciated it. He could almost taste freedom and it was a strange sensation.
“No thanks. I’ll leave that to the professionals.” Leaning to kiss the side of your head, Wonwoo gives you a once over before glancing back at the car, seeing it packed. “Ready to go?”
You had no idea where you and Wonwoo were going. He and Seungcheol told you that in case things went south, it was better for you to know less. While you understood that, it still made leaving your entire life behind even more terrifying. Still, as you meet Wonwoo’s eyes, seeing that reassuring look in them, you manage to nod.
“Perfect, can’t wait to get you both out of my hair.”
Wonwoo grins at Seungcheol’s words, knowing that while he was trying to crack a joke, there was a layer of truth to them, especially concerning himself.
“Don’t worry, Cheol. We won’t darken your doorstep again.”
Taking a step backwards, towards his own car, Seungcheol points at Wonwoo as he speaks.
“I’ll fuckin’ hold you to it. Show your face around here again and I’ll throw your ass in a cell.”
Shaking his head, Wonwoo turns his attention back to you, reaching to open the passenger's side door. He lets you sit down as he looks down at you, much like he did a week ago under much different circumstances.
“Where are we going, Wonwoo?”
You watch curiously as he tilts his head and purses his lips, trying to think of how to tell you the answer without actually answering it.
“Did you pack a bikini?”
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#wonwoo smut#seventeen smut#svthub#wonwoo angst#wonwoo toxic#wonwoo fluff#seventeen angst#seventeen toxic#seventeen fluff#svt smut#svt angst#svt fluff#svt toxic#wonwoo x reader#seventeen x reader#svt x reader
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Killer Eyes
𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: when a lowly prisoner's eyes meet the ones of a kind young woman, his heart fills with a will to live again
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: song mingi x fem!reader, ft jeong yunho (not a love interest)
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 12.4k
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: smut, angst, prisoner!mingi, prisondoctor!reader, prison theme
𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: masturbation, body worshipping, praising, size kink, possessive kink, marking, v-card loss, fingering, squirting, creampie
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: self h*rming, attempted s*icide, bullying, violence, swearing, r*pe mentions, unprotected sex
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: oh how i love angst and cliffhangers. also, the reader is not actually pictured as someone tiny or small, it's just the way mingi views her because of her kind nature.
check out sequel HERE
𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.
it wasn't fair how slow the sun and the moon chased each other. how slow the shadows of the cold metal bars moved on the dusty floor. perhaps it was on purpose. perhaps it was their way of making fun of him. as if they knew just how long he was going to be a cuffed man, and they decided to make it just a little longer.
song mingi sat on his bed. the mattress was heavy from dust, dead skin cells and sweat. it smelled horrible, and whenever mingi would get the privilege of taking a shower, he would rather sleep on the floor, so he can feel cleaner. the floor was swept regularly, yet the smelly old mattress stayed the same.
mingi stared at a can of coke a fellow prisoner had smuggled him. it was empty, the sweet burning of the beverage running down his throat and getting rid of the summer heat for a while. now, his attention was on the cap. he has removed it, the small item ripping a part of the can and leaving it very sharp and dangerous. he played with it, spinning it between his fingers. little by little, he worked up the courage.
he brought the cap to his wrist, the metal cutting in like a knife in soft butter. he yanks it, ripping his skin apart and dripping red liquid down his hand and into his palm. he shook, watching the beads stain the floor. another one, then another one. tears roll down his cheeks, mixing with sweat and dust.
"fuck!" he yells, standing up and banging his head on the wall.
nobody understood. nobody knew what he knew. everybody held him accountable, but nobody knew why he did what he did. as if it was easy to have his hands stained with someone's blood, to have his sister stare at him with horror, to have his body dragged over the floor all the way to the police car, tears and blood dripping down his face. none of it was easy, but if he found himself in that situation again, he would do the same. it was the only way to save her.
loud thuds echoed in the room, startling the man and making him crawl to the corner. he sat, knees firmly pressed against his chest, and body shaking as he sobbed. the knocking on the door doesn't stop, and neither does the blood pooling on the ground.
"do i really need to come in today? you didn't have enough yesterday?"
at the mention of yesterday, mingi clenched his back. the cuts and bruises are still open, untreated, and probably infected. he spent the night pressed against the cold wall, in hopes to help relieve the pain.
the thumping stops, and mingi hears rattling, multiple keys turning, then finally, a familiar creak of the door opening. freshly polished black boots step into the dusty room. mingi has nightmares about those very same boots.
"stand up."
the man on the floor stills, sobs stopping for a moment. he comes to a realisation. yesterday's torture was going to happen again. and today, it might be the end of him.
"what are you, fucking deaf? stand up!" his voice roars, bouncing off the walls and travelling to mingi's already sensitive ears.
he sits still, vision blurry with upcoming tears. the boots take a few steps towards the man, stopping right before him. the guard sighs, then turns around. just when mingi wanted to sigh in relief, the boots are headed his way again, this time one of them aimed for his face. the pointy part of it hits mingi in the jaw, throwing his head against the wall.
"fucking rapist, murderer, manipulator, playing victim games with me?!" with each word, the guard proceeded to kick, punch and slap the man, taking great satisfaction in seeing blood drip down his face.
he pulls his hair, dragging his body across the dusty floor, until he is near the bed. the guard positions the man on his knees, back turned towards him, and head buried in the mattress.
"stop, stop!" mingi begs, gripping at the bed sheets stained with fresh blood and tears.
the fabric is ripped from mingi's body, exposing his massacred body to the one that massacred it. a finger trails down his spine, then suddenly, goes a different path. a deep scream leaves mingi's throat, his nails and teeth ripping the sheets apart, as the guard's finger dips into his wound, picking at it.
"stop, stop, stop!" he groans, mouth foaming from anger and pain.
"excuse me, what is going on here?"
a gasp, a cracking sound, and a scream later, mingi finally gets a second of peace. his teeth let go of the sheets, face relaxing into the somewhat soft surface.
"oh, doctor, please. don't you worry about it."
"that man needs help!"
"this man has his assigned doctor. besides, a newbie like you cannot handle a psychopath like him. you're better off with thieves."
"help"
his voice comes out raspy, tired and painful. he hoped that the person at the door would show mercy, and do as little as distract the guard for a while.
"i'm calling help, mr barnes."
"you do that and i'll smash your head right between this iron door and this stone wall."
mingi's vision is dark, his body collapsing from weakness. he lets go of the sheets, falling on his back and taking in his surroundings one more time. when his eyes land on the figure whose voice he heard today for the first time in his life, he is glad that you're the last thing he sees.
you're furious. you can't believe what this place has allowed to happen. judging by all of those wounds, this isn't the first time. and something tells you it won't be the last one either.
you are told to not sympathize with prisoners, they'll use you as a way out of this place. but how can you not sympathize, seeing the poor man covered in blood and scars, suffering new ones right in front of you? has anyone cleaned those wounds? washed up the blood from his body? assured him that it won't happen again? then did something to make it not happen again?
"i want a patient change."
"prisoner change, you mean?" the supervisor doesn't lift his eyes from the scattered papers on his desk.
"he's a human before everything, sir."
the man throws the pile of papers on his desk, letting out an exhausted huff. you're amazing at what you do, that he knows. but he also knows just how stubborn you are. and he has no patience to compete with you today.
"him being a human doesn't excuse the reasons why he's here, no?"
"i'm just a doctor–"
"–s assistant, yes." he finishes, giving you a tight smile. he stands up, his hands finding comfort in the pockets of the perfectly ironed suit pants. he stops right before you, looking at you as if you're not close to evaporating from anger right there in front of him. "mind your business, love. otherwise, you'll become a marionette in the hands of those criminals. inhumans."
"i am but just a doc–" you try again. a finger finds its way on your lips, catching you off guard and shutting you down.
"then act like it."
he turns on his heel, and in a short moment, he is back in his seat.
"jeong yunho!" your voice betrays you, and you immediately cover your mouth.
at the mention of his full name, he drops the papers once again. the chair falls back when he stands up again, this time marching towards you with a look that you know means trouble. he has you pressed against the wall, body hovering just a little above the ground. he is shaking, the angry veins on his neck popping and warning you to be quiet.
"sister dear, please, follow my instructions so you don't get yourself killed." he says through his teeth. you cough, your hands desperately trying to move his from your neck. "i don't want you to get involved with that part of this building. understood?"
you struggle to answer, so you opt for head nodding. his grip gets stronger, and you gasp, head falling back in hopes to get some sweet oxygen.
"understood?!"
"yes, yes–"
your body hits the floor, and stays there as you try to breathe normally. you're all red and sweaty, hair sticking to your face and your throat feeling as if you fell on needles with it.
"you," you breathe out, glaring at him from the floor," you absolute asshole."
"no matter the blood relation, i am still your supervisor. you take orders from me, and me only. you don't do reckless things, like playing an empath and falling right into the killers hands."
"i just want to help him heal physically. that's all."
"no need. he deserves everything he gets." he is firm with his decision, truly believing that a prison is a place of suffering, not healing and learning of a better life. "if i hear about you stepping foot into the H section, i will personally chain you up right next to him and make you watch."
"you're–" you start, tears spilling down your cheeks from defeat.
"a monster, yeah. very original. talk to me when you come up with a better one." he finishes for you, then sits at his desk again.
you stand still, hoping he might somehow change his mind. but how hopeful can you be, when he just choked you seconds ago? he looks up at you, making you twitch at the sudden eye-contact.
"dismissed."
days pass awfully slow, with you spending them in your office, buried in papers. you are holding a file. one that you borrowed from jeong yunho himself. the printer finally made a sound, letting you know that it is still alive and capable of the task you gave it.
a few duplicates land on your desk, and you swallow. the soft brown eyes look at you from a small picture, and it takes you back to the day you found him gripping the sheets and screaming in pain. your chest feels tight, and you feel the tears gather in your eyes again.
what could he have possibly done to end up in the H section? isolated from everyone except two guards, his doctor, and yunho. no proper food, no normal conversations, no clean water. just four stone cold walls, a dusty floor, and a probably bedbug infested mattress.
you return the file, making sure to position it right as you found it. you return to your desk, and breathe out. in the mugshot you have printed out, a bigger format than in the file, he has dried blood on his face, lots of bruises, and a cut on his lip and cheekbone.
your fingers brush over his lips, admiring the shape and volume. if only you could brush an alcohol dipped cotton ball over it, to clean his cut and feel him under your fingertips. the people of this building intrigue you. especially those who have done heavy crimes and believe they did the right thing. they have their own twisted belief of what's morally wrong and what is not. but this person is something that is reaching deep parts of your brain. it might be that you're only feeling sorry for the way he is treated, but either way, you want to know more.
your eyes look into his. a deep brown, anger evident in his gaze. in that moment, he also believed he did the right thing. maybe he believed now too, that's why he is being punished the way he is. this man might just be the most gorgeous one in this building, but if the guards and yunho keep it up this way, his pretty face will soon be butchered. you let out a huff, then proceed onto the next paper.
PRISONER INFO
name: mingi song
record id: ##############
nationality: korean
gender: male
citizen: yes
eye colour: brown
hair colour: brown
dob: 09081999
age: 24
height: 183 cm
weight: 75 kg
ARREST & SENTENCING INFO
date: 25122022
charge: kidnapping, assault, voluntary manslaughter, domestic violence
summary: song mingi breaks into the song residence on christmas day, assaulting the partner of his sibling, in the process hurting the sibling and his mother. proceeds to lock himself in a house, threatening to commit suicide and dragging the victim with him. upon hearing the gunshot, the forces run in to find the victim laying with a hole in his chest, and song mingi with a gun in his hand. later on, the mother admits to domestic abuse going on at home, coming from song mingi himself.
you cannot believe your eyes. something smells funny in that paragraph, and you think you have just found yourself a new hobby.
the phone rings, startling you and making you drop the papers into a drawer. you clear your throat, then glance at the clock. it's been two hours since you started your mission, and during that time, you've done a lot of worrying and thinking. lots of it. so much, that you think they'll see the files through the phone. that's why you lock the drawer, before you swallow and pick it up.
"jeong office."
"i'll need you to cover for me today."
"doctor?"
"just do the hospital visits; draw some random check marks, and tell them to rest. do not interact with them more than necessary. i have someone else that needs taken care of."
it's like an early birthday present. to cover her means getting her chip. and to get her chip, means entering the H section. you are smiling, your gaze fixed on the locked drawer.
"hey." her voice is firm. she knows you're up to no good. "no funny business. i very much hate cleaning your messes."
"i grew out of it." you assure, opening the drawer and getting the picture out. you look at his eyes one more time. "nothing funny this time, promise."
"they aren't your level patients, but they're all cuffed, so no worries, doc." the kind guard assures, before opening the door for you.
you are in one of your usual institution uniforms, not the actual doctors one. if anything, your brother had a fashion sense. he demanded colour, and each outfit had to be approved by him before anyone could wear it. your heels click over the freshly mopped marble floor, the hot pink matching with the blouse and the lipstick. your white pants already had a small chocolate stain, which you so cleverly covered up with the silk bow from your new promotion bag. your freedom with outfits makes you feel powerful. as if you're working for a fashion or marketing company, not your brother's prison.
you hold the files tight in your hand, scanning the room in front of you. beds are lined up on each side, every single person cuffed to it. they are all in critical condition; from heart and lung diseases, to broken ribs and sewn faces.
"good morning." you try with a smile, and immediately regret.
they are all loud, trying to stand up and reach out towards you. you're lucky they're in bad shape and have elijah next to you, otherwise, you'd be dead meat by now.
"sit on my face, doc. guaranteed i'll feel better."
"no, sit on mine!"
"i'd rather her sit between my legs."
"i'd rather sit between her legs! ha!"
you're feeling dizzy and sick. they're not like your thieves and fighters from A section. these are real criminals. those who have killed, and will kill again if given the chance. you look back at the doors, making sure the guard is still there. the kind man nods towards you, as a way of assuring you that he will protect you if anything happens.
you do exactly as you were told; draw random check marks, tell them they'll get well soon, and move on. you try to ignore the awful sexual comments directed at you, but each one makes your stomach twist, and you can't wait to get out of here. you are ready to do so, when the guard comes to you.
"come here." he guides you to a door at the end of the room, entering first.
"what is it, elijah?"
the big man turns on the light, and carefully lets you in. your breath stops at the sight.
"he usually gets a detailed checkup, his state isn't the best. i went into his room at least five times today, he hasn't moved an inch. i know, i know, he's dangerous. just... i want to know he's okay."
and with that, he closes the door, leaving you alone in the room with one bed. a man lays there, a man whose face is now familiar in your eyes.
"song mingi." you whisper to yourself.
he is breathing through a mask, thin tubes connecting him to multiple devices. you sit in the chair next to his bed, and pull out a fresh white paper. the clock is ticking loudly on the wall, making it hard for you to focus on not doing anything stupid. he's there, completely exposed and vulnerable to you. and so fucking beautiful. even with the ugly mask on.
"i'm here to do a quick checkup on you instead of dr rachel maslow. i won't stay long, i know i'm disturbing you."
he doesn't move an inch. you gulp, then glance at the tubes connected to his arm. stupidly, you reach out to take his arm in your lap. you notice cuts, old and fresh ones. untreated. your thumb grazes over one, making him jolt and grab your wrist.
"fuck!" you jump, but his grip is strong, and holds your body in place.
you try to squeeze out, nails subconsciously digging into his wounds, trying to defend yourself, but only making it worse.
"let go of me," you beg, "you're hurting me!"
you gasp when he pulls you hard, your body falling over his. you're face to face with him, eyes looking deep into yours.
"imagine how it hurts me."
you gulp. you let go of his arm, hand slowly creeping into your pocket. he doesn't release your wrist, grip so strong it makes your skin lose colour.
"can you make my pain stop, doctor?"
"i'll do my best if you let go, mr song."
"the source of my pain, doctor. please."
your hand stops in your pocket. the injection is in your hand, ready to be used. and he seems clueless, or he knows, he is just used to it.
"you want me to find a way to stop the guard?"
"guard, doctor maslow, jeong yunho, everyone."
you stare in silence, words ringing inside your head. tears have become a regular visitor since you've started working for your brother, but it's always uncomfortable when they announce their arrival. your voice is stuck in your throat, and seeing the man so vulnerable at your fingertips, makes you want to take him into your arms and assure him that you'll protect him. the sun rays fall on him, brown eyes turning into gold pools of honey. he stares at you, eyelids half closed, and grip falling loose. you drop the injection in your pocket, body inching closer to him. an invisible force pulls you, but to tell the truth, you don't fight it. you help it, hand reaching to move the hair out of his eyes.
he exhales, eyes falling shut. you carefully monitor his body language, suddenly aware that you are in the presence of a prisoner after all. you almost choke on your spit, when you see a tear escape his closed eye and roll down his cheek.
"mr song?"
"god, that's the first time i didn't get hit for speaking."
he laughs, tears creating streams down his colorless skin. tears of joy, you guess. he is now staring at the white ceiling, laughing like crazy, an occasional sniff interrupting him. his eyes lock with yours, causing you to twitch at the sudden emotion change. his lip twitches, tears of sadness replacing the ones of joy. your heart breaks at his state, but there's only so much you can do right now, and that is to sit and listen to his side of the story. the justice is in yunho's hands. in wrong hands. maybe better. if it were in yours, you'd set everyone free.
"i forgot what it feels like to be a human. it's been years."
"i'm sorry." you say, aware that yunho has forbidden you to use those words with prisoners.
at this point, you are doing everything that he has forbidden you. talking to patients that do not belong to you, entering places you're not supposed to, physical contact with someone from a restricted section, stealing his files, and whatnot. mingi has taken comfort in keeping your wrist secure in his hand, and is breathing normally again.
"i'm not asking to get out of here. all i ask is to be treated like a human. why is a child molester better treated than someone who just wanted to protect his family?"
"because the world is a rotten place, mr song."
"mingi," he exhales.
"i'm not supposed to-"
"please."
you gulp. one of the rules is also to not get comfortable around them and have them call you by your first name, or call them by their first name. but how can you decline such a polite request?
"okay, mingi."
his name rolls off your tongue like it was made up to fit you. his lips twitch in a weak smile, and his grip on your wrist loosens.
"is there... a chance that i could have you as my doctor?" he asks.
"i don't think so. dr maslow is quite persistent when it comes to, well-"
"dangerous criminals, yeah. i figured."
he exhales, defeated. you want it, you really do. but going against your colleague means going against yunho too, and you do not have the energy for that. not yet.
"but i will do my best to somehow ease the situation for you. maybe move you to another cell?"
"i think the bed bugs will evolve into a new type of dinosaur before i get a new cell. i am fine with it, really. i don't need anything materialistic. only a meal and proper healthcare. that's all i ask."
your heart feels heavy. it really is cruel how child molesters and cold blooded serial killers and rapists are treated better. the place is a sinking hole, and you alone cannot change anything. it is only a matter of time when someone dies from all this cruelty going on. knowing your brother, he could easily cover it up. now that you think about it, it could've already happened, and you know nothing about it. that's how immoral this place is.
"i will do my best to provide that." you assure him, then try freeing your hand from his.
he tenses up, immediately grabbing you back and opening his eyes to look at you, pure fear transforming his face.
"mingi, you will have to let me go."
"just a bit more, please."
"i'm sorry, i can't. if i'm not back in the office in the next fifteen minutes, this might be the last time you see me. just let me do a quick check-up and then you can continue your rest."
the man immediately lets go of your hand, laying still in the bed. you take the time to check his tubes, and write up a quick description of the state he is in.
"lift your shirt up for me, please?"
he does it, wincing in pain as he moves his arms. sore muscles, you conclude. no visible bruises or cuts other than the cuts below his elbow. your eyes scan his torso, and you sigh with disappointment when you examine it closely. he is poorly wrapped up in bandages, blood seeping through it and onto the shirt and thin blanket he was covered with.
you stand up, rolling his shirt up further. his body emits warmth and caresses your fingers as you work on him, making you slightly flushed. even though his state is awful, you cannot help your own feelings. he is a gorgeous man, with the warmest eyes you've ever seen in your life. and right now, you are about to touch his bare skin. it is only normal for the swarm of butterflies to act this way in your stomach.
you start unwrapping his bandage, and he hisses under your touch.
"you'll have to sit up for me. can you do that?"
"i think so." he says, voice raspy from pain.
he sits up, and holds his shirt up so you can work easier on him.
"good job," you say, smiling at him as encouragement.
he smiles back, his eyes forming crescent moons. he almost doesn't feel the pain anymore, his whole focus shifting on the way your hair falls over your eyes as you remove the stained bandages. he can almost feel your kindness wrap him in a big warm hug, and he wishes the feeling stays there forever.
"you're pretty." he blurts out.
"huh?" you say, not sure if you heard him right.
"nothing." he says, cheeks red with embarrassment.
"i thought you said something about me being ugly?" you poke, a playful smile on your lips.
"no, no! you're very pretty, that's what i said." he repeats himself, cheeks so warm he looks feverish.
"thank you, mingi. you're very sweet."
you finally take a good look at his wound. two open lines decorate his torso, remains of dried blood splattered around them.
"oh, god. what is this?"
"that would be a belt." he says, as if it the most normal thing in the world.
"a belt?!"
"a high quality one, too. managed to break my skin. it doesn't do that usually."
"usually," you repeat, scoffing in disbelief.
you are utterly disgusted by everyone at this point. the guards, the doctor, other prisoners, your brother. you are sick and tired. no man deserves this.
"and what about this? does this hurt-?"
"ow!" he jumps in the bed, body running away from your touch.
your fingers retread from his body. the area on his rib cage is slightly deformed and bruised, and judging by the intense reaction made from a light touch, it could mean a broken bone.
"i'll write you down for an x-ray, okay? this doesn't look good."
"x-ray? what could it be?"
"probably a fractured bone. i'll get you fixed, don't worry."
he seems very nervous, eyes big with concern and curiosity as he tries to read what you are scribbling down on your notes. you check the time, and when you realize that you have stayed here longer than you should've, you hurriedly stand up, collecting your things.
"so, uh..." he trails, hands still holding his shirt.
"oh, god, i'm so sorry. right."
your fingers tremble as you search the room for new bandages and wiping alcohol. you are very late, and considering that both yunho and rachel know where you've gone, they could barge here any second now. and mingi will be at fault again. there is no time for you to be as gentle as you wanted to be with him. your heart feels heavy each time you swipe the cotton on his skin and you hear him hiss and flex under your touch. you are nearly done, all that's left is to put fresh bandages on him and check his tubes before taking a few more notes and leaving.
"are you eating properly?"
he chuckles, but not the funny chuckle. the tired, sarcastic chuckle.
"sorry. i forgot that your section is..."
"a shithole, yeah. i eat four to five spoons of lentils, and two cups of water a day. three if i've been good. which is confusing, i always try to be good. he just-" mingi stops, biting his lip.
he has said too much already. he doesn't want to bother you. after all, you are here just to do your own job. not save him.
"just what?" you ask, curiosity overshadowing the fear from your brother.
"nothing."
"you can tell me." you push.
the man stays silent, eyes fixed on the ceiling. he isn't showing any intention of answering your question, or speaking further. he has exposed himself too much, and now you can sense him pulling his walls up.
"mingi..." you start, trying to tell him that you understand and won't push him harder. but he doesn't let you finish.
"i said nothing! get out!" he yells, making you jump from the chair.
his eyes are wide, bloodshot. they are glossy, and you realize that he wants you out of the room before he breaks down. he doesn't want to cry in front of you again.
"i'll be back for that x-ray. i'll also try to get you proper food so you can heal."
you see remorse on his face, but he doesn't say anything. he is overwhelmed with emotions. he feels sadness, anger, and sudden comfort coming from a new person. it is a rollercoaster of emotions, and he doesn't know how to navigate it. it is best to leave him be before he explodes.
"take care." you give him a smile, and finally leave for your office.
a week later, song mingi exits the x-ray room. he is disappointed, his eyes not able to find your face behind the glass among the doctors. maybe you were there, but hid from him. after all, he did yell at you last time he saw you. he couldn't help it. he was scared of anyone and anything at this point, no matter how tough he tried to act. song mingi is just a flower who has surrounded himself with a walnut shell.
the man furrows his eyebrows, seeing that the guards are guiding him to a lower level of the building. then, when he musters up enough courage to ask where they're taking him, the words stop in his throat as his eyes fall on your figure. he smiles, so wide that his cheeks hurt. you smile back, and as you approach him, he is reminded just how beautiful you are.
"good morning, mingi."
he hated his name. it was screamed and drenched in pain and sorrow many times before he ended up here. you saying it, it felt like the name was just given to him. like he had no awful history behind it.
"answer when someone talks to you." the guard hits the back of his head, and the smile disappears off his lips.
"good morn–"
slap.
mingi looks up, terrified. he looks over at the guard who hit him, only to find him holding his cheek and looking down at your shoes.
"do not, ever, and I mean ever, do that again. did I make myself clear?"
the guard nods, gaze still fixed down.
"did I make myself clear?!"
"yes, yes! perfectly clear."
mingi is mesmerized by your sudden surge of confidence. he saw you as an innocent young woman, gentle and quiet. this, however, didn't shut down the growing interest he has for you. in fact, his heart beat just a bit faster when his eyes met yours. the transition from tough to soft gaze when you finally looked at him had him blushing hard.
"you feeling alright?" you tilt your head slightly, trying to properly look at him.
his head still hangs a little low, too afraid to cross a boundary with his staring and overly friendly smiles. he nods, then slightly bows his head as a thank you.
"that's good to hear. I managed to get you a better cell for your recovery. if you continue being a good boy, they'll let you stay."
you say it playfully, but mingi is ashamed by the twitch in his pants once the words leave your mouth.
a good boy.
he'll be the goodest boy ever for you. just to see you proud of him. after all, it is your work reflecting on him. he will help you leave a good impression in this hellhole. and, if he's lucky, he'll keep you as his doctor.
"right, then. I'll come and visit soon, I hope. take care. and take your medications!"
he nods again, suddenly unable to speak. he wanted to say so much. he wanted to drop on his knees and thank you. he wanted to feel your hands on his face again. but he soon realises just how unprofessional that is. he would rather only secretly glance at your figure one more time, before the guards drag him to his new home.
he is thrown on the floor, the humiliated guard landing kicks all over his freshly bandaged torso. blood seeps through them again, staining the new prisoner uniform you have gotten him.
"piece of shit, that's what you are. no fucking dinner for you, you pig."
but mingi did not care. he stayed on the floor, not bothering to check out the new cell he was given. he only stared as the heavy doors shut, listening to multiple locks turning, before he smiled to himself like a crazy man.
you looked stunning in your blouse. purple is your colour, he concludes.
in the morning, mingi finds himself laying on a soft surface. he opens one of his eyes, the light too strong for him to handle. he sits up, rubbing his eyes, before feeling discomfort in his lower body. he looks down, and soon enough discovers why it feels that way. his crotch is a sticky mess, and it feels hot.
he wonders how that happened. he fell asleep from exhaustion and pain last night, on the floor. he knows he didn't jerk off. and he knows for sure he didn't willingly climb on the bed. now, he either came in his sleep on the floor and humiliated himself when someone transferred him, or he came peacefully in the bed after the transfer. either way, his brain works hard to figure out the reason of the relief.
he barely manages to glance around the room, taking in all the sunlight, before the doors open. then, as soon as you walk in, he is reminded how the mess spawned in his underwear and all over his pants.
your sighs against his ear, your skin under his fingertips, your warm walls swallowing his hard cock. that's why he didn't hear the three knocks for breakfast in the morning. and that's why he didn't feel the transfer to the bed. all because he was having wettest dreams about you.
his jaw is slightly hanging, seeing you approach him so cheerfully. you are wearing a dress, past the knees length, with long flowy sleeves. he spends a few seconds memorizing every curve of your body, so he can inappropriately think about you after you leave. you are lovely, kindness embodied, and as pretty as the first cherry blossom in spring. mingi wishes he could keep you in his cell, just so that he can look at you and feel safe.
he lowers his gaze, scared that you might see in his eyes exactly what he is thinking about. but you grab a chair, and sit in front of him. your finger find a spot under his chin, gently guiding him so that he can look at you.
"you're not supposed to-" the guard steps forward, in case mingi tries something.
"shut the hell up."
the man on the bed had to fight the urge to laugh in the guard's face. he loves your fierce side. as long as he doesn't get on it, it's hot. way too soon, your hand leaves mingi's face. you flip through your notebook, scribbling something down.
"that lip cut looks new." you comment.
"uh, yes." he confirms, scratching his neck.
"cole?"
"yes, doctor?" the short male answers.
"you don't happen to know where mr song got that cut, do you?"
"no, doctor." the guard lies easily to your face.
"okay."
mingi doesn't say anything, in fear of you more than the man behind you. but you only give him a sweet smile, before writing into your notebook again. the pen glides so smoothly on the paper, and maybe he was just smitten, but mingi swore that he never saw such pretty handwriting.
"here's your medication."
you hold out a singular blue pill, waiting for him to take it. he does, unsurely popping it into his mouth, and then takes the water bottle that stood untouched on his nightstand. your intense gaze makes him accidentally spill it all over his t-shirt, and before he can start apologizing, you take the bottle and close it for him.
"good job. you'll heal in no time." you encourage, then hand him a towel.
"thank you." he finally says something without mumbling or stuttering.
"no, no. thank you, for being cooperative and not giving me headaches. like some people." you look over at the moody guard.
the young prisoner smiles, knowing that it will probably earn him a kick or two as soon as you leave. you stand up, closing your notebook.
"get him new pants." you casually comment, and mingi immediately feels his ears heat up from embarrasment.
"i'm so sorry-" he apologizes, again and again, until your hand finds its place on his to stop them from flapping around while explaining.
"stop apologizing for everything. and i better see you in the canteen for lunch soon. got it?" you playfully demand.
"canteen?"
"yes. i worked something out and got you access to the canteen. you can't heal from lentils only."
and with another smile, you are gone.
canteen. he hasn't seen that place for years now. he barely remembers the taste of real meat and potatoes. but he vividly remembers the cold silver tables and stools. the very tables where he got thrown on and beat lots of times, by both guards and prisoners. all because he didn't want to share his bread or give away the little earning of the day he had made. eventually, they stopped letting him into the canteen, simply because his presence alone would cause chaos. he was everybody's punching bag, and as much as he cried of hunger at nights, he would rather stay in the safety of the four walls. well, partial safety. one bully is still better than twenty.
the next few weeks, you visit him often. to give him the blue pill, hype him up, and treat to his wounds. he has healed nicely, and you are proud of him. he is mostly silent, except when he thanks you or apologizes to you. he still doesn't have enough courage to leave the cell to get himself food, so he settles for lentils for two more weeks. until you've had enough, and scold him.
"your progress is going awfully slow, and you're making it harder for me. please go eat something."
"okay," he finally agrees.
he doesn't get to know about you much. you are there only for a few minutes a day, but even that is better than nothing. he gets to stare at you as you write into your notebook, and each night when his hand travels down his pants, his image of you is more and more vivid.
with new fresh pants and a t-shirt, song mingi finally walks up to the canteen doors. he sees so many people, ones he has known, and ones he will get to know. the loneliness is slowly vanishing, but the anxiety is just announcing its arrival. mingi is swallowed by fear. he doesn't want to let you down, but what will he do if someone decides to test him? will he have enough self control?
"you're not getting married, you're just getting food. get in." he is pushed through the doors.
the smell of fried chicken and soup fills his nostrils, and his stomach grumbles in anticipation. his legs carry him to the waiting line, hands already grabbing an empty tray. he blends in so easily, like he was here every day. he announces his order to the kind lady that has always liked him and given him the best piece of meat, feeling fully confident in himself. the lady smiles widely at him, and mingi is happy knowing that he has two people caring about him.
he takes a seat in the empty corner by himself, eyeing the warm soup. finally, he dives in. the liquid drips down his chin as he eats like a starved man, the chicken flavour melting on his tongue. he is lost in the joy of eating, he almost doesn't notice a hand grabbing the chocolate muffin off his tray. but he does, dropping the spoon in the already empty bowl.
"well, well. lookie here."
three men surround his table, each sending him smirks and glares. mingi isn't scared of them anymore. he won't give them a reason to be a threat. for you.
"oh, sorry, were you gonna eat that?" the bald one speaks with a stuffed mouth. chocolate bits fall on the table, making mingi grimace in disgust.
"no, you can have it." he simply says, then moves on to his fried chicken.
"oh?" the men look at each other, surprised by how calm he is. three years ago he would've gone feral on all of them, giving the whole canteen a reason to start a chaos. all for a piece of pork.
"did you want my juice too?" the young man holds the little box of apple juice out for one of them to take.
they're all puzzled. just what was happening in section H that made mingi calm down like this? or was this his new strategy? what exactly was in that apple juice?
"cut the shit, asshole. let's relive some memories, shall we?" the taller one grabs mingi by his collar, dragging him up so that he stands.
"i'd rather not. not in the mood. another day maybe?"
"oh, another day? so you're back for a longer period, huh?"
"hope so." he genuinely says, looking around the place.
"aren't you a dove. almost makes me feel sorry for what i'm about to do to that pretty face."
the third man suddenly starts tapping their shoulders, looking behind at the doors opening. mingi is dropped on his stool, all forgotten. the three men don't move away from his table yet, but their attention remains on the people that have just walked in. and when mingi finally sees it too, his mind and heart have a very difficult time.
jeong yunho, dr rachel maslow, and you, walking peacefully to the end of the line, each grabbing a tray.
"i thought they had their own fancy ass canteen?"
"they do. i don't know what the fuck kinda experiment this is, but i'm not liking it."
"i don't know about you, but i'm liking the view of the chick."
"you think if we kill that asshole that we can escape? i mean, he's right there."
"nah, he's invincible. remember that guy who tried to stab him with scissors? the bastard survived even that. i heard he keeps the scissors framed in his office."
mingi eavesdrops further, in hopes of getting information he can forward to you. but his ears pick up something that itched a certain part of his brain. a click, which set his old self free.
"maybe see how useful his sissy is and serve him her head when we're done with her?"
"i'd rather her give me a head."
"i heard she's a virgin."
"aw, i get to be her first and last!"
mingi sees red. his hand grips the empty soup bowl, and his teeth are biting the insides of his cheeks. he looks at you as you get your own food, walking with such elegance that every woman on the planet should envy you. and then, he sees you naked, scared, in the hands of these awful men. he sees your big, scared eyes looking up at him and silently begging for help, while the laughter of the three men rings in his ears.
one thought leads to another, and mingi does exactly what earned him the section H. he loses himself to his overthinking and rage. his hand smashes the bowl on the head of the bald man, his other hand soon grabbing his throat.
"i'll keep her safe," the young prisoner mutters, looking into the man's eyes as he fails to beg for mercy.
mingi's fingers dig into his neck, as if trying to rip his throat out. he feels punches on his shoulders and back, and when the man in his hands finally collapses, he turns around. he lands a punch into one's nose, sending him back a few steps. he turns towards the third one, the one who made a comment about being your first and last.
"i'll keep her safe," he repeats, this time louder. he marches at the man, biting into his throat and ripping out a chunk of meat. red liquid drips down mingi's chin, but he isn't bothered. his fingers dig into the scrunched body, holding it in place so that it doesn't run from the death grip that is song mingi.
"what the fuck?!"
"oh my god!"
"who let him in here?"
"run!"
"get dr rachel!"
his ears are ringing, and his vision blurs. but he still doesn't stop, not until life fades from the men's eyes and they lay on the floor, painting the floor red. he isn't sure how long he stays there kicking their bodies, smashing their limbs and ribs, until a pair of hands grab him by his shoulders.
he kneels down by force, the brand new uniform drenched in the blood he spilled. your face appears in his frame, and he sees that you are kneeling, just like him. you are speaking, but he doesn't hear a thing. only the distant echo of their laugh, and your silent pleas for help. he looks down on the floor, and feels terrible guilt when he sees that your dress is slowly turning red.
"safe..." he whispers.
jeong yunho holds the man in place, while dr rachel fidgets with something in her hands. you send him a confused look, not knowing what the word safe means in this situation. you want to help him, you truly do. but he makes it very difficult.
"i'll keep you safe," he says again, more to himself than you.
"safe from what, mingi?"
"i'll keep you safe."
his body loses strength under yunho, dr rachel already pulling an empty injection from his arm. he is dizzy, but his eyes don't leave yours. he uses his last ounces of strength to smile at you, before collapsing.
"see what he's capable of? you still want to go play good doctor with him?"
dr rachel scoffs, throwing the injection in the trash bin. yunho doesn't speak. he walks around his desk, hands behind his back. he is probably thinking of ways to punish you. but you couldn't care less about what happens to you. you need to know that mingi is alright before everything. then, you need to know what caused the outburst.
"this isn't a fanfiction, you can't change him. he's locked in section H for a reason, and you stay away from those sections for a reason. i do not want you near him again."
"that isn't your call to make." you spit at her, then look over at yunho with anticipation.
"mr jeong?" she searches for support.
but he remains silent.
"so what? you granted him access to the canteen, then brought me there just so i could witness him going feral? you planned it all?"
"shut up."
"you sent those men at him, didn't you? you wanted to create a problem..."
"shut up."
"...so that mingi acts up. and when he does, rachel will prove that i am not capable..."
"shut up."
"...of taking care of such high level criminals, and you'll go back to your bullying ways again uninterrupted. is that what-"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!"
yunho throws the lamp from his desk right at the wall beside your head.
"fuck!" he kicks the little coffee table in front of his desk, flipping it and spilling the cold coffees all over the carpet. "fuck, fuck, fuck!"
tears stream down your face from fear. each time you see him recently, he has less control. it isn't your brother anymore. it's just mr jeong.
"i will say this one more time, and if you bring me into a situation where i have to repeat myself, i swear to god, i will fry his brains in front of you. you'll see him on that electric chair every time you close your eyes, and you'll hear his screams every time you go to sleep at night. i will make the experience so traumatic and gruesome for you that you will need not two, not three, but ten fucking psychiatrists to heal you! you will stay the fuck away from him, stay the fuck away from my files, my prisoners, my business, and my way of doing things! if i see you, no, if i even hear possible rumors that might not even be true, that you stepped foot - not in the cell, but in the section - i will personally serve you his long suffering and death. and i'll enjoy every second of it. have i made myself clear?"
your jaw hangs low, blood running cold in your veins. pure venom drips from yunho's lips, and it makes your stomach sick. you feel like throwing up. he turns around at your lack of response, marching over to you. you run, squealing. hiding behind the armchair, you shield yourself from the person that possessed your brother.
you nod frantically, trying to swallow the lump of pure fear in your throat.
"i don't want to see your face anymore for today. or tomorrow. get lost."
and you obey, running past him and into the hallway. you struggle to catch your breath as you reach your office, and once you're safe behind the locked doors, you finally let it out. you sob, whimper, fingers reaching into the drawer to pull out his picture. the kind brown eyes look at you from the paper, and it only makes your chest hurt from the upcoming sobs.
"i'm sorry," you say, as if he can hear you.
days turn into weeks, and you are scared to even look at the sign that says section H. dr rachel has her eye on you, and you don't dare disobey. you work with a lifeless expression, mind and heart drained of the will to live. guilt is eating you inside out, and it's killing you that you can't ask anyone about mingi's wellbeing.
you haven't seen yunho since that day. and you don't think you have the strength to. you hate him. you hate what he's done with this place. you hate that a place of rehabilitation has turned into one of torture. and you hate that he's corrupted all the other workers. is it the pay? is it their equally fucked up morals? how can all of them be alright with it?
"doctor?"
you turn around, expecting to be given more news about ill prisoners. the flu is spreading like crazy the past two days. but when you see elijah approaching you, your heart flutters. he is usually unreachable, always roaming the forbidden section.
"how is he?" you ask before thinking.
elijah looks around for you, and when he makes sure that he coast is clear, he lowers his voice.
"not bad, but not good. he is holding on."
"how are his injuries? anything new?"
"barnes is beating the life out of him for every little thing he does. so he decided to go on a strike and just sit in the corner all day and all night. he doesn't eat, barely sleeps, and started harming himself worse than before. he wants to die, doctor."
you feel your heart dropping low in your chest, and it hurts. you wanted to help him, and look what you did.
"don't blame yourself. he did it to himself." as if he knew what you were thinking, elijah interrupts.
"he was talking about... safety? do you have any idea what that might've been?"
"keep you safe, that's what he keeps repeating. apparently, he heard a few guys talk bad about you, planning to do something to you, and he lost it."
"i need to see him."
"no."
"make it happen, please. please, elijah."
"all three of us will lose our heads, doctor."
you feel your cheeks become wet, your vision getting blurry. putting your palms together, you beg. "please. for just a second. and then i'll never ask for him again. never think of him."
elijah exhales. "fine."
at exactly two o'clock in the morning on a sunday, you walk barefoot down the hallways, like a ghost who haunts a castle. successfully avoiding guards, you slip into the H section, scanning elijah's code on the hallway doors and letting yourself in. the heavy door waits for you at the end of the hall, mysterious and inviting. mr barnes is not in his usual position, meaning elijah has found a way to distract him. you had exactly fifteen minutes, and five have already passed.
hurriedly, you scan the code again, then as quiet as possible turn all the locks. your breath stops once you get in, the smell of sweat and blood hitting your nostrils. then, you see him. curled up on the floor, holding his head, knees to his chest. sobbing, fingers pulling his hair, and shivering.
you feel the dusty floor under your bare feet, and wonder if the room ever gets swept. it looks the same as when you first found him. slowly approaching, you try not to startle him. he doesn't know that you are coming, and one wrong move could send you flying into the wall. you saw what he was capable of, like dr rachel said. but you also know he doesn't do it for no reason. treat him like a human, and he will do the same.
"mingi," you call in a whisper.
his sobs quiet down, and shivering stops. he sits up, back still turned towards you. the hallway light poorly illuminates it, open wounds on his skin making your heart sink.
"you shouldn't be here," he says, voice raspy.
"sorry, i- i had to. i had to make sure you're okay."
"well, i'm not."
you don't know how to respond. you can see that he is not, you just don't know how to help. there is no time. so you settle for a simple shoulder touch, which he doesn't reject.
"i know. i'm sorry." silence swallows the room. mingi doesn't move. he doesn't remove your hand from his shoulder either. with a gulp, you continue. "can i see you? please?"
when he doesn't budge, your other hand finds its way on one of his wounds. immediately, you realize your mistake. the man stands up before you get the chance to properly feel his rough skin under your fingertips, grabbing you by your neck and slamming you against the wall. your toes barely touch the ground, and for a split second, you are back in the room with yunho doing the same thing to you. only this time, the man in front of you has a full right to do so. you violated his privacy, and he reacted.
"i'm sorry," you choke out.
you sound pathetic to yourself. apologizing three times under five minutes, and still breaking boundaries.
"i don't want... i don't want to hurt you." his grip softens, and he slowly lets your feet touch the ground. "i want to keep you. i want to- i need to have you."
his voice fades as his gaze falls on your lips. you are unsure what he means, considering that he is still holding your throat, but his gaze is locked on your lips. he gulps, then looks into your eyes intensely, making you subconsciously clench your thighs. you feel a rush in your lower stomach, one that you're not sure you've ever felt.
"can i? please?"
"i'm not sure what you mean, mingi." your voice is a whisper, afraid that if you speak louder you'll spook him away.
"i just- let me put it this way. i want to thank you."
"for what? i've done nothing but cause you trouble."
"i've caused it myself. i did it to myself. you only helped me. you healed me, treated me with kindness, and i'd like to repay."
a sudden creak from the hallway makes both of you jump, and you run into the corner behind the door. mingi follows, putting his hands on the wall beside your head and shielding you with his body. footsteps approach, and almost get to the unlocked but closed doors, then stop.
"barnes! care for a drink?"
"i'm doing checkups. besides, with you, elijah? no thanks."
"come on. now that we work in the same section, how about we bury the axe? besides, i did the checkups already. it was my turn anyway. we should be good for half an hour."
"you paying?"
"sure am."
"then what the fuck we waiting for?"
the footsteps slowly drift away. and you thank elijah for his quick thinking and buying you time. your attention is on mingi again, whose eyes are still fixed on your lips.
"my savior," he says, hand gently cupping your jaw and thumb caressing your cheek.
"you're exaggerating. i barely did anything to help you. i got you into bigger troubles than you started with and-"
mingi doesn't hesitate anymore. he leans in, still tilting your jaw so that you're almost at his level, and softly presses his lips into yours. you stand there, wide eyed, still processing what's happening. it isn't until mingi presses his body against you, trapping you between one cold wall and one warm one that you finally relax in his arms. you're not sure what to do, or what to feel. you're being kissed and held by a prisoner, and not just any prisoner. the prisoner that is considered one of the most dangerous ones in the whole building. and you're enjoying it. why else would your stomach feel like hot magma waiting to burst.
sensing your frozen state, mingi pulls away. his other hand rests on your waist, fingers subconsciously drawing patterns over your blouse. "let me thank you, doctor. please."
"i'm not sure i'm familiar with this type of thanking," you admit, your cheeks heating up.
his eyes change, from soft to hard, and you're not sure what to feel. yet again.
"so it's true."
"what is?"
"you're a virgin."
"well... yeah, i mean. yes. does it matter?"
"then, the gratitude i had in mind falls off."
oh. oh.
"you should go back before they return. or before i lose my mind."
"no, wait! we have a little less than thirty minutes, i didn't go through all this trouble just to go back."
the young man lays down in bed, hissing a little when his back makes contact with it, then folds his arms over his chest in protest.
"don't be a brat. i came to see you."
"and you did. i'm fine. now go."
"why are you like this suddenly?" your eyes start burning, tears gathering in the corners and blurring your vision. there's a lump in your throat, and no matter how hard you try, it's hard to swallow it. "you're mean to me, when you yourself said that all i've done is help you. make up your mind, do you hate me, or do you like me? do you want me close, or not? do you-"
"what i want is out of line and question. so the next thing i want is naturally for you to leave." he looks at you, almost glaring, before adding, "please."
"don't make this difficult. tell me, and i promise, i'll leave you alone. you'll never hear from me again."
he lays in silence, eyes closed. as if that will make you leave. instead, it brings out the stubbornness and braveness in you, overshadowing your fears. you know what he wants. you are a virgin, but not stupid. if you weren't sure, the obvious bulge in his pants makes it clear. without much thinking, your fingers start unbuttoning the purple blouse, revealing the black bra underneath. you don't take it off, instead leaving it to hang off your shoulders.
mingi's eyes open when he senses the mattress dipping, then a warm body hovering over him. he feels your warm crotch on his naked torso, your skirt hiked up and your bra exposed.
"i can't."
"why not?"
"i'll hurt you. and i already did that tonight, and i won't do it again."
"maybe i want to be hurt."
"you don't mean that. trust me, you don't mean that."
your hands take his cold ones, guiding them so that they rest on your waist. your body shivers at the cold touch, but you don't remove them. instead, you guide them higher up, until his big hand covers your breast. he gulps under you, afraid to move.
"i'd break you."
you lean in, capturing his lips in a kiss. this time, you are more confident, and allow yourself to swipe your tongue across his plump lips. he responds, biting softly into your bottom lip and tugging it, gently sucking on it and licking it. you shiver in his hands, from pleasure more than from the cold. you finally pull away, a string of saliva connecting your lips in a way so erotic that you haven't seen it in movies even.
"please do." you finally respond, a whisper into his mouth.
"and if you regret it?"
"i'll get over it."
with a swift move, mingi's hand yanks your bra down, freeing your breasts and attaching his lips to your tense nipples. you sigh, fingers reaching for his hair and pushing his head into you. his rough tongue swipes over the sensitive bud, lips sucking, while his finger spins the other one. you shake under his touch, never having been touched this way before except by yourself. it feels more intense when it is someone else, and you are dying for more.
"more, please," you beg, pulling at his hair.
"i'll give you anything you want. just ask, doctor. say it, and i'll give it to you."
"touch me more. i need more."
the dark haired man grabs your waist, and like a doll, easily lays you down on the bed and hovers above you. his strength fascinates you, and turns you on even more. you have the urge to feel his every inch under your fingers, but you aren't sure how he will take it. so you settle for placing your hands on his firm chest, just to see his reaction.
he doesn't say or do anything about it. instead, he plants kisses between your breasts, down your stomach, to the waistband of your skirt.
"should i take it off?"
"no." he says firmly. "keep it all on. bright colours look beautiful on you."
"but won't it be difficult?"
"let me do the worrying. you just relax."
with a glint in his eyes, he disappears under your skirt, and you almost yelp when his cold fingers touch your thighs. you try closing them, but his strong grip keeps them apart.
"stay still for me, princess."
a new flood of arousal washes your panties, the new nickname almost making your back arch from the hard mattress. his fingers move your panties aside, and without any warning, his lips press against your folds, leaving a kiss to test the grounds. you gasp at the newfound pleasure, and then moan when his wet muscle swipes across your clit.
"i'll make you feel so good, i promise. i'll repay you. i'll show you how good i can make you feel. just stick around me, please. i'll let you use me for your own pleasure any time you want. do anything you want to me, or order me to do anything you want to you. just stay with me. please."
"i will, i promise, i do." you're lost in the feeling of pure ecstasy, his plush lips sucking and kissing your clit as his finger tests your hole. you clench at the strange feeling, pleasure now being replaced with discomfort. "mingi-"
"trust me. relax." he peeks over the skirt, lips glistening with your arousal.
and you do, at least try to. his lips return to abusing your swollen clit, tugging it and circling it with his tongue, distracting you from his finger. when he decides that you are wet enough, he slides it in, slowly. he tests the waters, and when he sees that you're not clenching, he goes deeper. he moves in and out, knowing that you don't feel anything just yet, but preparing you for the second one.
he watches as your chest rises and falls heavily, soft sighs and moans leaving your pretty parted lips, and your hair already sticking to your face. he is satisfied with himself, finally living out his fantasy of making you feel good as a thank you. he inserts a second finger, easily gliding it along your walls. he curves them slightly upwards, brushing against the spongy part of you, and when you slightly jump and reach for his hair, he smiles to himself. jackpot.
"does it hurt, doctor?"
"it's a bit unpleasant." you admit.
"it'll be better, i promise. i'm just preparing you so that it hurts less later."
his fingers continue pumping inside you, with each entrance gently grazing your soft spot until you get used to it. when your whines turn into moans, mingi finally gives it his all. his thumb rubs your clit, while his two fingers continue with a faster pace. his lips find yours once again, tongue rubbing yours and letting you taste yourself from him. your brain feels fuzzy, and your stomach warm.
"stop, stop." you try pushing his hand away.
"why?"
"i'm close." you whine, trying to push the feeling away. it feels too soon.
"don't worry. i can do wonders in fifteen minutes."
his pumps become stronger and faster, and you helplessly grip at his biceps, nails digging into his already poor tormented skin. but he doesn't complain. he is too lost in the way you look, pure bliss on your face from his touch.
"that's a good girl," he mumbles when a long moan escapes your throat, your body collapsing under him with pure pleasure. "ride it out, come on."
your hips grind on his hand, which continues abusing your overstimulated pussy. you try to move away, but mingi grips your wrists and pins them above your head, then proceeds to finger you faster.
"please-" you're not sure what you're begging for; him to stop or to give you more.
tears stream down your face, pain and pleasure mixing inside of you and creating a roller coaster of emotions. your body twitches, another orgasm washing you over. the room is filled with squelching noises, and when you gather an ounce of strength to pick your head up and look down, you are shocked to see liquid spraying out of you and all over mingi's arm and bed. the man removes his fingers from you, wasting no time and popping them in his mouth. you watch as his tongue swirls around them, his gaze pure lust as he watches your body recover.
"forgive me."
"for wha- oh." your panties are ripped apart, pieces of fabric hanging loosely from your thighs.
"you're so pretty," he kisses you, "so beautiful," your neck, "so pure," your collarbone, "so kind," your stomach, "and so perfectly made for me."
his hands pick you up from the bed, then gently lay you across the dusty old desk near the little window with your back turned towards him. your upper body shivers when it makes contact with the cold wood, and legs almost tremble. you grip the edges of the desk, not questioning his methods. you can barely stand, but your desire to feel him, all of him, gives you energy.
"you're so small underneath me," his hand flips your skirt over, fingers caressing your buttcheeks and thighs while his other hand works on his boxers. "you fit in my hands just perfect."
you can only hum, too lost in the euphoria. his hand spreads your legs apart, and carefully pulls your hair back so that it doesn't fall in your face. you feel a warm muscle circle your hole, which clenches around nothing.
"i'm gonna claim you, doctor. you'll be mine, full of me. i'll mark you up, let everyone know that you belong to me, and i belong to you."
then, he slides in, making you grip the desk and almost bite into it. it hurts like hell, his thick cock splitting you apart. you almost growl in pain, but mingi puts his hand over your mouth just in time. you bite into it, finding comfort in hurting him while he hurts you. but it doesn't last long, because mingi knows what he's doing. he gently pulls out, then slides back in, and so a few times until your hips willingly push back in search for his cock. you are stuffed, and feel him in your stomach. his hands hold your hips in place, while his lips kiss along your spine and shoulders. every now and then, he bites and sucks, marking you just like he promised.
"you'll be mine, and mine only. won't you? tell me you will, please. have mercy on me."
"yes, yes, i will." you groan, focusing on chasing the pleasure.
"can i stuff you full of my cum?"
"you can, please."
"are you on any pills?"
"no, oh fuck- no, i'm not. just- just fuck me, please. i don't care."
mingi is taken aback by your request. but who is he to disobey you? he finds himself roughly pounding into you, completely ignoring your painful whines. he raises one of your legs on the table, and finally reaches the angle he needed. you bite into his hand again, hiding moans. he would love to hear you, more than anything, but with elijah and barnes right around the corner, it's impossible. another time. if mingi is lucky, he'll get to see and hear it.
"pretty," thrust, "so pretty," thrust, "i'm obsessed with you."
"you look beautiful stuffed with my cock."
"your cunt is the prettiest one i've ever seen."
"i want to see your cumming face every day, forever."
"i want you all to myself."
he chants against your ear, warm chest pressing against your back as he reaches deep inside of you, his pace slowing.
"i want to feel your walls swallow me every single day."
"your cunt was shaped for me."
"i'll have you squirting all over my tongue."
"nobody can touch you except me. not even you."
"and nobody will touch me, except you."
"please, doctor, make me the happiest prisoner in this shithole."
he halts his movements to catch a breath. but you, so desperate for him, move your hips and fuck yourself on him. it gives him a new surge of energy, and mingi can't help but bruise your skin with his grip as his skin slaps against yours, cock kissing your cervix and driving you insane.
"cream all over my cock, princess. please."
he doesn't have to say it twice. the third orgasm has your vision blurry, and you mouth almost drooling. you fuck yourself dumb on his cock, riding out your orgasm and feeling warm liquid spilling inside of you. he grunts behind you, helping both of you get the final touches of pleasure out before pulling out. his cum drips from your hole, down your thigh, and mingi fights the urge to stuff you full of himself one more time. it's enough for one night, he concludes.
"see? and five minutes to spare." he jokingly whispers, planting a kiss on your shoulder where a purple bite sized bruise is being formed. "let me help you get dressed."
you stand up straight, and allow him to take care of you. he delicately buttons your blouse up, fixing your collar, then reaches for his half soaked bed sheet so he can dry your skirt. you watch him as he tries his best to put you together, thinking if this was your best or worst decision of your life.
"wow. just what the fuck did i say? i find you, i kill him."
your legs feel cold, like they were sliced. your eyes widen, and mingi stills on his knees under you. you can only put your hands on his head and bring him close to you for a hug in hopes of protecting him somehow. a few seconds feel like hours to you, holding his body close to you and feeling his hands hug your legs shakily, before he is mercilessly torn away and dragged down the hallway, by none other than elijah and barnes.
jeong yunho stays at the door, a smirk expanding on his lips. he knew. from the moment you met mingi, yunho knew this moment would come. he just needed a puppet to arrange his sentence.
my saviour, the young prisoner said.
yet he didn't know that you would be his death. served as kindness on a platter, only to turn out the biggest bullet of them all.
#ateez#ateez imagine#ateez smut#ateez imagines#kpop smut#ateez x y/n#ateez x reader#ateez x you#mingi x reader#mingi smut#song mingi#ateez mingi#mingi x y/n#mingi x you#mingi imagines#mingi fanfic#song mingi x reader#song mingi x y/n#song mingi x you#mingi oneshot#ateez oneshot#ateez oneshots#ateez x atiny
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Carousel Club | Five Hargreeves / Reader
Word Count : 3k Summary : After being dropped into 1963, you find work at the Carousel Club as a dancer. While following a tip where Luther could be, Five sees your routine. Overwhelmed by jealousy he sneaks into your dressing room. (I do not own the umbrella academy or any of it's characters.) Warnings/Tags : Smut, cursing, piv, men being sexist (its the 1960s what do you expect?) dom!Five, Aged up!Five. A little bit of angst. Not requested.
You always trusted your husband. He was your constant in a very fucked up world. You knew he would never purposely harm you, or put you in harm's way. Sometimes that meant following him through time and space, other times it meant trusting him to not burn your dinner. So when he said he had a way out of the mess you and your in-laws had caused, of course you trusted him wholeheartedly.
You grasped Five’s hand tightly in your own, feeling a sense of deja-vu from the last time you two tried to spacial jump. Diego gingerly held your other hand, you looked up at him giving him a curt nod. He returned the nod before looking around at the rest of his siblings. You raised your eyes to the gaping hole in the ceiling, the intricate details of the theater framing the crumbling moon. Five squeezed your hand, drawing your attention back to him. You gave him a reassuring smile, well as reassuring as you could.
Electricity crackled around the seven of you, wind whipping your hair in front of your face. Five’s grip on your hand was almost crushing, like you were his lifeline. A giant blue orb of energy appeared above your family, growing and glowing. Five strained under the pressure, his face contorting into a pained expression. The blue light enveloped you all, flickering and pulsing.
“Hold on! It’s gonna get messy!” Five yelled as the ground shook beneath you, shutting your eyes tightly you felt yourself being pulled away from Five and Diego. You only had a moment of panic before you were thrown to the ground.
You groaned sitting up, the blue light of energy blinding you. You raised your hand shielding your eyes.
“Five!” You yelled as you got to your feet. As fleeting as the orb had appeared it disappeared, as though someone had turned an old tv off. Was that a flash, or just your imagination? You shook your head, taking in your surroundings. No Five, no siblings, no briefcase. Where the hell were you?
You wandered down the alleyway to the main street. Your hip twinged in pain after taking the brunt of your fall. You looked around the street, the lampposts and storefront neon signs were your only light source. You sank down on a bench, letting out a deep sigh. Your eyes wandered to a newsrack, you quickly got to your feet. You ran to it, holding the sides of the glass case.
August 1st, 1963. Dallas, Texas.
Your heart leapt into your throat. Damn it, Five. Shit, Alison. God, where were the rest of Five’s siblings?
“Honey, are you alright?” A soft voice asked, you turned your head sharply. You were met by a sweet woman’s face, big blond hair and bangs. She had a cardigan wrapped tightly around herself as she reached out to touch your shoulder. You shook your head, still coming to terms with the last five minutes. “Come on, I’m just about to go get something to eat, why don’t you join me?” She said, smiling sweetly.
“I-” You cleared your throat, “I don’t have any money.” You said, shaking your head. “Well then my treat.” She said helping you to your feet. You followed the woman down the streets of Dallas to a quaint diner. You sat down across from her, taking a look over the menu. People chattered mindlessly around you as you came to terms with your situation.
“I’ve seen that look before.” She said, setting her menu down on the table.
“What look?” You said furrowing your eyebrows.
“That look. Every girl I work with has had that same look.” She huffed thanking the waiter as he set down a coffee cup in front of her. “Small girl in the big city, not knowing where you’re gonna stay or what you’re gonna eat. Believe me, I’ve seen that look before because I’ve felt that before.” She said reaching across the table, taking your hand in hers. “So what’s your story, sweetheart?” You took a breath, choosing your next words carefully.
“My husband and I got separated.” You whispered, “My parents didn’t agree with our marriage and so we ran away. He was supposed to meet me here in Dallas but he didn’t show.” You said, not technically a lie, Five was supposed to be here with you.
“Oh dear,” She tsked, “well you do not have to worry about that anymore. I’m so glad I found you! You can stay with me until you get back on your feet.” You smiled, hopefully Five wouldn’t make you wait much longer.
“Thank you…” You trailed off, realizing you hadn’t caught her name.
“Autumn.” She answered, holding out her hand for you to shake.
“I’m Y/n.” You smiled, taking her hand.
“You know Y/n, I could put in a good word for you with my boss. He may seem a bit rough around the edges, but we’re always short staffed.” She shrugged. Whatever the job was you would only have it for hopefully a week tops before Five caught up with you, along with his siblings.
“I appreciate it Autumn.” You smiled, patting her hand.
-
When you arrived at Autumn's place of work you wondered if you were a little over your head. You followed Autumn into the back entrance of the nightclub. You passed by many half dressed women, putting on their makeup and outfits.
“This way sweetheart!” Autumn called, you picked up your pace following her through the dressing room. Once on the main floor of the club you were greeted by the intense smell of cigars. Autumn had all but disappeared, you wandered through the tables. Trying to work your way to the front of the club, while also trying to avoid the men’s wandering hands at the tables.
“Y/n!” She called from a table, you turned your head. The club was familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. You were face to face with Jack Ruby, the man who would put the hit out on Lee Harvey Oswald. You gulped, straightening your shoulders you walked over to them.
“Mr. Ruby, this is Y/n she’s looking for a job.” Autumn said, clasping her hands together. Jack looked you over, a cigar dangling from his lips.
“Y/n who?” He said leaning back in his chair. You stuttered but only for a second.
“Y/n L/n,” You said with a smile, Hargreeves might get Five or your in-laws in trouble if anyone here caught wind of that name. He puffed his cigar, leaning over to whisper something to the man next to him. He chuckled before nodding, you bit your cheek. Feeling like a piece of meat in front of these men.
“Can you start tonight?” He said, lacing his fingers together.
“Of course.” You replied, Autumn cheered quietly beside Mr. Ruby.
“Autumn, be a dear and show her the dressing rooms. Tell ‘em I want Miss Y/n to be on stage by tomorrow night.” He said motioning with his cigar in hand. On stage? You turned sharply looking toward the stage of the nightclub, scantily clad women fanning themselves with large feather fans.
“Yes sir Mr. Ruby!” Autumn giggled, taking your arm and walking you towards the back.
-
You sat in front of your vanity, lined by bright golden bulbs. Brushing glitter onto your eyes before adding your long eyelashes. It had been three months since you had taken on your new job, along the way you had made many friends. You felt for all the girls alongside you, it was a rough profession but it paid well. You pulled your robe close around your body, walking over to the clothing rack. You rifled through the sheer jeweled fabric before your eyes landed on the black and white body suit. You threw your outfit over your arm heading back to your vanity. You were greeted by a beautiful bouquet of red roses, Autumn standing next to them with a coy smile.
“Autumn! Who are these from?”
“A secret admirer,” she cooed her bright red lips pulling back into a smile, “Just teasing! It’s from all of us girls here,” She said as she rushed forward, wrapping her arms around your shoulders. Her cheap perfume floods your senses along with her sweet sweat.
“Y’all didn’t have to do that!” You smiled as she pulled away, she only waved you off.
“You’re one of the best here! Don’t know where you learned all your little tricks.” She said bumping your elbow with her own. She looked down at your costume in your arms. “Need help?” Autumn asked, holding out her hand.
“Yes please.” You said handing her your suit as you lowered your robe. You held onto her shoulders stepping into the suit, you adjusted your straps as Autumn tightened your corset. You admired yourself in the mirror, since taking on your new job you had become more toned. More than when you had worked at the commission, and these clothes were definitely more flattering than your blue suits you used to wear. You took in a sharp breath as Autumn pulled through the last loops, tying the ribbon with a neat bow.
“Alright sister, you’re ready.” She said squeezing your shoulders.
“Thanks Autumn, now go take your break!” You said waving her off.
“Y/n! You’re on next!” Shannon called from the stage door. You nodded, quickly stopping to smell the sweet scent of your roses before grabbing your tulle skirt. You tied it around your waist as you walked backstage. You picked up your red feather fans, taking a deep breath. You walked up to the closed red curtains listening to the deafening cheers and whistles. You heard the clink of the ropes being pulled back before you were blinded by the spotlights. You closed your eyes, bowing your head, your body covered by the bright red fans.
You started your routine, swaying your hips seductively as you pulled the fans back away from your body teasing the audience. You lost yourself in the music, thankfully it was difficult to decipher anyone’s face over the shadows cast by the spotlights. You unclipped the tulle skirt, throwing it off stage. You could make out a certain group of sailors, and a rather large man standing by the bar.
You teased the audience, covering your body with the fans before flashing them a glimpse of your shimmering body suit. You pulled the fans over your head, rotating your hips in a circular motion as you lowered into a squat. You bounced on your heels before jumping back up to your feet. You smirked as the men whistled and cheered.
The music slowed, and faded out as you walked behind the red curtain. You dropped off your fans before heading back to your dressing room. You opened the door, shutting it behind you.
“Who sent the roses?” Five’s voice sent a shiver down your spine. You turned your head sharply, meeting Five’s predatory gaze.
“Five!” You gasped, your heart soaring in your chest. “When did you get here?”
“I could ask you the same thing.” He said, crossing his arms. Your smile fell off your face, what was his problem? It’s not your fault that he dropped you off in the middle of 1963 with no resources.
“Three months ago.” You said furrowing your brows, “I’ve been looking for you this whole time!” He scoffed, clicking his tongue.
“Oh really? It looks like you’ve been getting enough attention without me.” He huffed, glaring at the bouquet of roses.
“Excuse me for finding a way to survive here.” You spit pushing past him, knocking his shoulder against yours. You took a seat in front of your vanity, pulling out your makeup kit. He stalked up behind you, towering over you. He gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him through the mirror, effectively smearing your bright red lipstick.
“You’re mine.” He sneered, his lips pulling back over his teeth. You flushed, heat pooling in your core. You stared up at him through the mirror, his fingers squeezing your lips together. “Got it?” He asked. You glared at him, a devilish thought entering your mind.
You kept quiet, smirking as you watched a shadow pass over his features. He clenched his jaw, shaking his head as he tilted your head to look him in the eye.
“You must need a lesson.” He smirked, pulling you to your feet, you stumbled slightly in your heels. He kicked the chair away, you jumped as it thudded against the carpeted floor. His arm moved behind you, sweeping everything off of your vanity along with the roses. They crashed to the floor, the vase shattering. He pushed you against the vanity, caging you in with his arms as he slammed his hands against the mirror. He stared down at you with a wolfish grin, you felt yourself flush. Your heart started to beat faster as you squirmed under him.
“Yes sir.” You said tilting your chin up, staring at him through your lashes. He growled spinning you around, your hands splayed out in front of you on the top of the vanity. His hand connected to your ass cheek, letting out a low chuckle as you gasped. He moved your hair off of your back, his cold fingers attacking the strings of your corset.
“Stupid- fucking- ribbon-“ he said through gritted teeth, you caught the slightly crazed look in his eye through the reflection. Your body felt on fire, three months without him made every touch that more exhilarating. As soon as the corset was loose enough he was ripping it off of your body, along with your panties. You were entirely bare in front of your fully dressed husband. He stepped back, loosening his tie as he watched you squirm in the mirror.
“Not so confident now, dearest.” He smirked, unbuttoning the top button of his dress shirt. You breathed hard, adrenaline rushing through your veins. Your nipples hardened against the cold air in the dressing room. You heard the familiar metal on metal as he took off his belt before unzipping his pants. He walked up behind you, nosing his dick against your folds. You clenched around nothing, pushing back against him. His hand came up to the back of your skull, wrapping his fist through your hair. He stared at you through his darkened gaze, you were breathless, your lips parting slightly.
“Please,” you whined, batting your eyelashes. He forcibly thrusted all the way in, knocking the breath out of your lungs. You let out a pornagraphic moan before you covered your mouth with your hand. He grabbed your hand, pulling it away from your mouth and holding it behind your back.
“Why don’t you let everyone here know who you belong to?” He huffed in your ear, thrusting erratically into you. You gripped the desk, the only thing holding you up as Five plowed into you. “Let them know that I’m the only one who gets to fuck you like this.” You clenched around him as his words seemed to straight directly to your core. He let out a groan, loosening his grip on your hair. “Fuck you like this don’t you?” You nodded enthusiastically, your eyes rolling back into your head as his cock prodded against your g-spot.
“Yes, yes Five!” You babbled tears pricking your eyes, as he bent you over the desk. His hands flew to your hips, pulling them against his own thrusts. You could only lay there as your orgasm came crashing down. You were thankful you were on top of the vanity because there was no way your trembling legs would have been able to hold you up.
Five’s eyebrows knit together as he arched his neck back, his hips stuttering as his orgasm quickly followed yours. Cumming with a loud shout he collapsed on top of you, your sweat causing his thin shirt to stick to your skin. He pulsed inside of you as he gingerly tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. He pulled away, peeling himself off of you. He kissed your shoulder as his softened cock slipped out of you. Your breathing was slowly coming back to normal as he tried to return your room to the state it was before he had destroyed it and you. He picked up your robe draping it over your shoulders. You sat up, feeling his cum start to drip down your thighs.
“What took you so long?” You asked, tying your robe close around your naked body.
“I just got here.” He sighed, tucking himself back into his pants. “I’m sorry I made you wait.” He turned to you, brushing his thumb over your cheek.
“I’ll always wait for you.” You sighed, wrapping your arms around his waist. He held you against his chest, resting his cheek against yours.
“At least someone will, Luther and Diego weren’t too happy about me dumping them in the past.” Five sighed. Diego and Luther were here, too?
“Where are they?” You asked, turning to Five with wide eyes. Five looked at you inquisitively, a small smile pulling on the corner of his mouth.
“Luther works for Jack Ruby, y/n. I found him in this club before I knew you worked here.” Your stomach dropped. Luther worked for Jack Ruby? That means he must have seen your numbers.
“Oh god.” You said mortified, hanging your head against Five’s chest. He chuckled, shaking his head as he lightly rubbed your back.
“Believe me, he was just as mortified as you are.” He said, “Although I must say I thoroughly enjoyed your routine.” He lowered his voice, his hands trailing down your body to rest on your butt.
“I think I could give you a private showing.” You smirked, wrapping your hand around his tie. You pulled him forward by his tie, smashing your lips against his. His hands gripped your hips, the velvety fabric smooth against his palms.
“God I’d love that,” He let out a sigh, “but maybe we should wait until after we save the world.”
Again? It was happening again?
“Vanya?” You asked, pulling away.
“Your guess is as good as mine.” He shrugged, “All I know is on November 25th the world ends, again.”
“Guess it’s time for a family reunion.”
#the umbrella academy#tua#five hargreeves#five x reader#five hargreeves smut#five hargreaves x reader#five hargreeves x reader#diego hargreeves#luther hargreeves#klaus hargreeves#viktor hargreeves#alison hargreeves#ben hargreeves#sir reginald hargreeves#lila pitts#little bit of angst#hihomeghere
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what would be littlest wayne's first word be?
I was thinking of something simple or sweet, but then I got the funniest idea on the planet.
The Littlest Wayne: First Words
You were babbling a lot more lately. Your family all knew it meant you were likely going to say your first words soon, and the fighting over who got to have your attention increased tenfold. It had gotten to the point that your brothers were practically kidnapping you to monopolize your time and attention. Bruce put his foot down and ended that whole charade when it stopped being endearing and became dangerous.
("Really, Damian? Your skill in combat is not in question, it has never been in question, but you cannot bring them on patrol with you on the off-chance they happen to say their first words in the middle of the night!")
So, Bruce takes you to the Watchtower anytime he has a Justice League meeting. It pisses off all of his sons, but he's arguably bringing you to the safest spot in the galaxy. Also, he's your father. It's not kidnapping if you're kidnapping your own child. Okay, it is, it very much still is, but that's not the point.
"Okay, Mouse," he murmurs, easing you onto the floor and handing you a stuffed teddy bear. "The meeting's only an hour, then we're going back home. Dada will take you home."
(Maybe he wants to steer you towards your first word himself. Sue him, he's just a man at the end of the day.)
You take the bear, staring openly at your father. You don't see him often in the Batman suit, so he's very visually appealing at the moment. Bruce allows himself a small smile, gently pinching your cheek, then he steps out of the way when Diana arrives.
"The babyyy!" She whisper-yells, kneeling next to the playpen. "Hello, little one! It's such a treat when Batman brings you around!"
You make some soft, babbling noises. Mostly you're making raspberries. It's a fascinating sound. Diana melts and wipes some drool from your chin.
"Someone's getting close to their first words. My mother said mine was "maim." I remember that conversation fondly..."
Bruce has to remind himself that Diana grew up on an island inhabited by immortal warrior women. "Maim" is a perfectly normal first word for an immortal warrior baby.
The other Leaguers start quickly filing into the meeting room, each of them stopping cheerfully to greet you. It makes something fond bloom in Bruce's chest, and you coo and openly admire all the people with bright, primary colors all over their bodies. You're busy trying to chew on Superman's cape when a glowing, green light enters your periphery, and you drop the fabric in favor of staring at the Green Lantern.
"Oh, bring your kid to work day, huh, Spooks?" Hal actually scoops you up out of the pen and cradles you to his chest, grinning down at you. "Hey, kiddo!"
"Mmmnnn," you mutter intelligently, reaching for his mask. Every time you manage to pop it off, he just wills another one on. You think this is the most entertaining game ever.
"The kids are taking them out into the field, now," Bruce sighs. "They all want to be the one to hear their first word. Which is fine. It's adorable. I love that they love the baby. But the baby does not belong on Gotham's streets in the middle of the night, especially if guns are involved."
"Oh, yeah, that's pretty bad," Hal says, smiling at you. You pop his domino mask off again, squealing when it dissolves in your fingers and another one materializes over his face. "Uncle Hal would never do that to you, would he? No! No he wouldn't! That's very dangerous!"
"Huh...Hal!"
Everyone freezes. Bruce's jaw actually drops.
"No fucking way," Barry blurts across the room.
"Language. There's a whole baby here, Flash," Oliver says, but he's grinning like an idiot.
"Hal!" You chirp again. "Hal!"
Bruce sinks to his knees. Clark looks like he's trying not to laugh. Barry and Oliver are definitely laughing. Diana is pouting over the fact that your first word was so tame and boring. J'onn doesn't understand why your first word is so important when it just means you'll eventually learn to say more.
Hal is nearly trembling with the flood of emotions. His thing with Bruce is very new, and he's been by the Manor often enough that you obviously know him, but he really hadn't anticipated his name being...being...
"The boys are going to kill me."
"Maybe," Bruce admits, still on the floor. "...it couldn't be dada? It couldn't be uppies? Or Mouse, or any of the other words you hear ten thousand times a day? Even Alfred thought you might try his name first."
"I think we're going to need to postpone the start of the meeting," Clark declares, coughing as a way of clearing his throat and definitely not to disguise his amused huffs. "Let's push it back fifteen minutes."
"Hal!" You chirp again, delighted. You finally pulled Green Lantern's mask off and it didn't disappear. You win!
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Headcanons: household chores with them🩵
Featuring: Thanos( Su Bong) x Reader(f), Cho Hyun Ju x Reader(f), Kang Dae Ho x Reader(f), Se Mi x Reader(f)
A/N: If you have ideas about what to write, you can always talk about it!
🩵🩵🩵
Thanos (Su Bong)🖤
Unfortunately, you can have quarrels literally every day because of this. After all, your boyfriend is still a "household disabled person". You have to force him to do something around the house, of course, heavy sighs and indignation will come in response.
Thank God that he at least tries to do it without mistakes.
It happens that you are at work, and he is at home all day. You ask him to wash the floors and do the laundry, of course he promises to do everything in the best possible way, but in the end he does nothing, because he forgot. That's when you get nervous and start yelling at him.
- Well, you promised to do it! You stayed at home all day! Why do I have to clean the house after work? - you said almost crying, because during the day you got very tired and hoped for your boyfriend.
- Don't cry! I just forgot, anything happens! I'll do everything now! - the guy answers you irritably.
- I'll do everything myself, mind your own business. - you were angry with him, so you didn't want to see his help, but he still followed you, taking you by the hand and sending you the room.
- It's my fault that I forgot. I'll do everything now. - and he really started to wash the floor and deal with the laundry.
Cho Hyun Ju💗
Living with this woman is a fairy tale. You immediately divided the responsibilities around the house. You took more cleaning, and she cooks (since food turns out very tasty). Sometimes you change tasks if some circumstances occur (some of you were detained at work, some of you got sick, and so on), but this absolutely does not bother you.
- Baby, don't make any plans for Sunday, please.
- No problem, but why? - you asked her.
- I want to do a general cleaning, and it will take a lot of time, but don't worry, after we do it, we'll watch the movie and eat something tasty. - she said, kissing you on the forehead.
Of course, you agreed, it wasn't a tragedy for you to do a general cleaning. After all, you will still spend the whole day with your Hyunnie.
Kang Dae Ho🩵
Living with this guy is a dream. After all, he was raised by four older sisters, so he is very attentive to you (well, straight by 1,000,000 percent). He is ready to do all the work himself.
- My love, I don't need to help, you'd better rest, you've been very tired.- he said when you volunteered to help him clean the closet.
- It's not fair! You're also very tired for a week, if I help, it will take much less time! - you were indignant, but it worked, although he agreed with a heavy sigh, but you rewarded him with a kiss on the lips.
Thanks to you, the cleaning took about two hours, so you decided to go for a walk outside, after all, the weather was very good.
Se Mi💋
When you moved in, you had a problem about who would do what household chores. After all, both of you weren't really good at cleaning or cooking.
- Maybe we'll do everything together then? Then we won't have any difficulties! - you suggested with a smile, to which your girlfriend gladly agreed.
- It's a great idea, sweet. We will look after each other, at the same time we will spend more time together.
Of course, you sometimes have small arguments, for example, that one of you did not clean up very well and seems to be a little lazy, but you solve them very quickly. After all, you have a good harmony in your relationship.
🩵🩵🩵
#thanos#thanos x reader#su bong x reader#player 230#thanos squid game#cho hyun ju x reader#cho hyunju#hyun ju#hyunju x reader#player 120#hyun ju squid game#kang dae ho#dae ho x reader#dae ho squid game#dae ho#player 388#semi x reader#semi squid game#player 380#squid game#squid game headcanons#hedcanon#squid games x reader
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sweet - part 1: rafe cameron x kook!reader
pairing: rafe cameron x kook!reader
read part 2 here!
inspired by lana del rey's song, "sweet" ♡
summary: growing up with your protective older brother, topper thornton, has been challenging yet comforting. until recently, have you been starting to see your older brother's friend, rafe cameron, in a new light and your relationship with him starts to change.
word count: 2,324 words
author's note: thank you so much for reading this new series!! i sincerely hope you enjoy :)
p.s. next chapter includes smut!!
warning: cursing, mostly fluff!
"topper!" you called out, your voice sharp as it bounced off the walls of your large kitchen. "topper, where are you?!" frustration bubbled up as you roamed through your house, checking room after room. the faint thrum of loud music reached your ears, pulling your attention toward the home gym.
with a deep breath, you shoved open the door to the home gym, the music instantly blasting at full volume as if it had been lying in wait.
"topper!" you yelled, your voice barely cutting through the pounding bass that seemed to vibrate the very walls.
dumbbells, resistance bands, and foam rollers were scattered across the floor and in the center of it all, topper was doing bicep curls with his dumbbells, completely immersed in his conversation with his two friends, kelce and rafe. you had absolutely no idea how they could even hear each other with that loud of music playing.
"topper!" you shouted again, louder this time. he froze mid-curl, finally noticing you, and a little startled yet annoyed at his younger sister for barging in.
"what do you want, y/n?" he barked, as though you were the one intruding.
you marched straight to the speaker and turned the volume down to a level that wouldn’t have the neighbors filing noise complaints. the music dropped to a faint hum.
behind you, kelce was pumping through incline bench presses, his grunts in rhythm with his reps. rafe, meanwhile, was bent over a barbell, effortlessly pulling through a set of deadlifts.
"are you kidding me?" you snapped, spinning around to glare at your brother. "topper, you ate my food in the fridge! that was mine!"
he rolled his eyes, tossing the dumbbells onto the floor with a loud thud. "god, y/n, relax. it’s not a big deal. i'll give you cash and you can buy another one that's freshly cooked anyways."
"you’re so selfish, you know that?" you said, folding your arms.
he snorted. "chill out, y/n. here..." he pulled out his phone in his pockets and started frantically pressing the screen. you felt a vibration in your pockets and brought your phone lit up to your face to see a notification,
"'top' sent $100"
"that should be more than enough. go get yourself snacks if you want too. whatever will make you shut the hell up."
growing up, topper had a habit of finding ways to annoy you whether it was stealing your food when he knew you’d been saving it, blasting his music in the middle of your movie nights (with yourself), and even leaving behind his messes for you to clean.
and yet, in his own way, he cared about you. like the time in elementary school when you scraped your knee during a particularly bad fall on your bike. you’d been crying, more out of frustration than pain, and instead of teasing you for being "soft," he had come back minutes later with a band-aid, your favorite snack, and an awkward pat on the back.
there were moments when he let his guard down to be a good older brother. moments when he’d pick you up from sports practice, or buy you a bag of clothes after a long day, or cover for you when you accidentally broke the vase that one summer.
since then, topper had continued to care for you in his clumsy older-brother way. sure, your parents mostly favored him but their expectations for him still existed. they expected him to excel, to lead, and to be a perfect role model for you, especially since he was (exactly two years) older. topper carried the weight of their demands, which often translated into him pestering you with the same energy he’d picked up from your parents. like now.
"why don’t you just go and hop on your bike now, huh?" he said, cracking open his water bottle as though the solution was obvious. "go grab something to eat, chill out, and leave us alone."
"it’s literally freezing outside, topper," you shot back, already regretting coming into the gym.
"you’ll be fine,” he said, smirking as he leaned back against the bench.
and before you could deliver your next scathing comeback, rafe came in, setting down his barbell with a clang. "i’ll drive her," he offered, shrugging casually as he wiped his hands on a nearby towel. "it’s too cold for a bike ride, and she looks like she’s about to bite your head off, dude."
truth be told, you’d always kind of liked rafe cameron growing up. unlike most of topper’s other friends, who barely acknowledged your existence, rafe was the one who always made an effort to be friendly. he’d always greet you when he came over, ask how school was going, and sometimes even share a laugh at topper’s expense with you.
and then there was that one memorable time, back during the ninth-grade, when you’d gotten stood up for your first high school dance. you’d spent weeks picking out the perfect dress, building up the courage to say yes when a boy you liked asked you to go. but when the night came, he’d never shown up. you had sat on the couch, trying to hide your disappointment as topper and his friends teased you about your "special night".
rafe had been different, though. he’d walked into the room, taken one look at you sitting there all dressed up, and without missing a beat, said, "i’ll take you." you’d blinked at him in response, a little stunned. "what?"
"i’ll take you to the dance," he repeated, a faint grin on his face as he shrugged. "you’ve already got the dress and everything, right? might as well go."
topper had rolled his eyes and laughed, but rafe had ignored him. twenty minutes later, he was in a suit jacket, standing by the front door, waiting for you like a proper date.
that night, he made sure you didn’t feel out of place, even though you were nervous and embarrassed at first. he’d danced with you, cracked jokes until you were smiling, and even pretended to be your date when your friends asked questions.
when the night had finally wound down, rafe hadn’t dropped you off and gone home like anyone else would. he’d offered to take you out for a late-night snack. so, the two of you had ended up at a diner near the city, picking at plates of fries and sharing stories while the neon lights flickered outside. and for a brief moment, it made you forget all the times you felt like an afterthought in your family, while your older brother was the center of attention.
that night had turned into one of those memories that stuck with you dearly. and though rafe was still the same cocky, laid-back guy, he had an empathy that maybe only you saw. and by the way, your older brother made the decision to gather himself and his friends, including rafe, to "confront" that same boy who stood you up.
topper groaned, rolling his eyes. "fine. go, whatever. just let me and kelce finish our workout in peace."
luckily, rafe was already grabbing his keys.
"c’mon," he said, his voice low but firm. "i could use the break anyway."
as you climbed into rafe’s car, you glanced around the messy interior: empty water bottles, a stray jacket, and a faint scent of mint and cologne. he turned down the music as he started the engine, his movements smooth and unhurried.
"you okay?" he asked, glancing over at you as the car warmed up along with the slightly loud noises of the air conditioning. his tone was casual, but there was an edge of sincerity in it that comforted you. "yes," you muttered. "thanks for this."
he smirked, his eyes briefly meeting yours. "don’t thank me yet. topper for sure owes me for this one."
you couldn’t help but laugh a little, the tension from earlier melting enough to make the ride bearable.
as rafe pulled into the familiar parking lot, you realized where he was taking you: the same diner you’d gone to after the dance. the neon lights flickered outside, casting a soft glow across the empty lot. a wave of nostalgia hit you, and you couldn’t help but smile at the memory of that night.
inside, the warmth of the diner greeted you, and the smell of greasy fries and fresh burgers filled the air. you both slid into a booth, and rafe didn’t waste any time before he ordered. you hesitated, but eventually chose something simple, the kind of comfort food you knew would hit the spot.
"you know, this place actually isn’t half bad," rafe said as he looked over at you, his voice light. he gave you a quick smile before shrugging.
you laughed, feeling a little lighter. "it's actually really good!"
as the food arrived, rafe handed you his jacket, noticing you shiver. "here, you look like you could use it." you blinked in surprise, but his easy, nonchalant gesture made it feel completely natural. you draped it over your shoulders, grateful for the warmth.
the ride back home was quiet, the sound of the car humming as you leaned back against the seat. the warmth from the jacket and the full stomach made your eyelids heavy, and before long, you were drifting off, your head lolling against the window.
when the car finally stopped, you felt a gentle nudge on your shoulder. "hey," rafe said softly, "we’re here."
you blinked awake, your body delaying to respond. you looked like a complete mess with a little drool coming out and your hair bunched up, but he didn’t say anything. instead, he gently slid the seat back, helping you out of the car.
before you could protest, he had already scooped you up into his arms, carrying you with surprising ease toward the front door.
"rafe, what the....?" you mumbled, still half-asleep and confused, but he didn’t answer. he just chuckled quietly and continued up the stairs to your room. when he set you down on your bed, he tucked the blanket around you, his movements careful as if he were trying not to wake you completely.
"get some sleep y/n," he said softly, pausing at the door. "you’ll need it."
your eyes fluttered closed again, the warmth of your bed and the comfort of rafe’s care wrapping around you. you barely registered when the door shut, but you knew, even if you couldn’t thank him properly, he’d done something more than just drop you off.
you felt a sudden tug at your shoulders, and your eyes slowly blinked open to find your older brother standing over you, shaking you awake.
"oh my god, what do you want, topper?!" you groaned, trying to push the blankets over your head in a futile attempt to block out the morning.
"it's 10 am y/n," he said, his voice more annoying than usual, "you remember breakfast with our grandparents, right?"
you blinked a few times, still trying to shake off the fog of sleep. the memory gradually crept back into your mind, and you groaned again, this time more out of frustration than sleepiness.
"ugh, i forgot about that," you muttered, rubbing your eyes and sitting up. "why did you have to remind me? it's too early for this."
topper shrugged, unfazed by your groggy attitude. "because mom wants us there by 11, and you know how she gets when we’re late. i also know you take forever to get ready and clearly, you're not even close to ready."
you shot him a glare, already thinking about how this day was shaping up to be like every other which was full of reminders about family obligations. "fine," you grumbled, throwing off the covers and getting out of bed. "i’ll go. but this better be worth it."
"no wonder you're so tired," he said, clearly annoyed. "i bet staying out late with rafe last night did you in, huh?"
you groaned, sitting up a little, now fully aware of the teasing tone in his voice. "it wasn’t that late," you mumbled, trying to sound convincing, but you knew he wouldn’t let it slide. "and maybe if you didn't eat my food, i would've slept at a decent time. and your friend actually had the decency to help me get that food back."
topper raised an eyebrow. "sure..." he paused and gave you a concerned look.
"and i’m not exhausted because of that, topper," you snapped, rubbing your face. "i’m just exhausted because you woke me up too early."
he let out a little laugh, walking toward the door. he shot you a teasing grin before he left. "you know, if you didn't stay up snacking with him, maybe you wouldn't be like this right now."
"you’re a pain in the ass," you muttered under your breath as he disappeared, but you couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped. you knew he was just being his usual protective yet controlling self, and maybe, just maybe, there was a hint of concern underneath the teasing regarding his friend's relationship with his little sister.
you heard the door suddenly open again, with topper lingering by the hinge, his hand hovering over the handle. "by the way," he said, his tone still calm, "we go in thirty minutes. so be ready and at the car."
"i got it," you grumbled, not looking up from where you were half-draped over your bed.
topper didn’t wait for a response. he just turned and walked out, leaving the door wide open.
"topper, are you serious?!" you called after him, your frustration mounting. "close my door!"
but of course, he didn’t. typical of him.
you sighed in annoyance, getting up to close the door yourself. and with the door finally shut, you hurried to get ready. you took a deep breath, grabbing your belongings and heading downstairs, ready to face whatever the day had in store.
#obx#rafe outer banks#rafe x reader#rafe cameron#obx rafe cameron#rafe imagine#rafe obx#outerbanks rafe#rafe fluff#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagine
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Hii lovely!! I'm not sure if it's alright but just hear me out. maybe a fic stalker theo completely obsessed w reader, maybe kinda dubcon but if not i totally understand !!
Very convenient timing considering I just read Haunting Adeline this weekend. I kinda used one of the parts in it for the instigation, but I hope this works!
Fuck Off
Theodore Nott x F!Reader
Warnings: DUB/NONCON PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU DON'T LIKE THIS STUFF, oral(female receiving), unprotected sex, cream pie, cussing, stalking.
18+ Minors DNI
You've had a stalker for a few months now. They would leave gifts outside your dorm to begin with. Then they started showing up in your dorm. The gifts were sweet and tailor specifically to your likes and wants, which you couldn't decide if that made it creepier or not.
The gifts weren't the only thing you got from your stalker. They would also send you texts from an unknown number. They weren't threatening or anything that suggested harm to you. Maybe creepy since they'd talk about what you were doing in that moment, even when you were completely alone. Sometimes they were sweet, sometimes they were sexual. And you hated to admit it, but they knew exactly how to talk dirty to you, they could get you worked up so easily. It freaked you out but you weren't in danger. Right?
You were sitting in your bed reading, unwinding from the hectic day you just had when your phone went off for a text notification. It startled you out of your little world and you opened the message.
“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are when you're reading?”
Your stalker again.
“A few times.” You replied. At this point, you've given up ignoring them since they'll just keep messaging you until you respond.
“I'll tell you a million more times. You should be reminded every day how beautiful you are.”
“You already do that.”
“Maybe next time I say it, I can say it while my cock's buried deep inside you.”
“Pervert.”
“Only for you. You know you drive me insane. You make me so hard just sitting there. Especially since I know the filth you're reading. You're not so innocent yourself, bella.”
You looked at your phone for a moment before looking around. You did read dirty books, but only in your dorm. Another ping from your phone drew your attention back to it.
“You won't find me, amore mio. You should know this by now.”
“Fuck off.” You replied, angry at him for how he's treating your privacy.
“Careful, principessa. If you say that again, I'm gonna come fuck that little pussy of yours.”
You scoffed, disgusted by his words. Would he really come do it? No. Was part of you also curious if he would and wanted to see who he was? Yeah. That's why you couldn't stop yourself from replying.
“Fuck off.”
“You're in for it now, cara mia.”
You rolled your eyes and went back to your book. Your eyes felt heavy after a while and you put the book aside to fall asleep.
The next day, you got up and headed for the showers, getting ready for the day. You stripped and got under the hot water of the shower, relaxing for a moment before starting your shower routine.
You always got an eerie feeling of someone watching you or being right there when you closed your eyes while rinsing the shampoo and conditioner out of your hair. This time, though, when you opened your eyes after rinsing out the conditioner, there was someone right in front of you. You knew him, of course, everyone did. Theodore Nott.
You screamed and backed away from him, hitting the shower wall while you covered your body as best as you could.
“Get the fuck out!” You yelled.
“I'm not going anywhere, cara mia.” He smiled. You noticed he was fully clothed as he stepped towards you, drenching his clothes from the shower.
“You? You're the fucking creep that's been stalking me?” You made the connection after hearing him call you the same pet name as your stalker.
“If you recall that little conversation last night, I told you I'd come fuck you if you told me to ‘fuck off’ again, which you did.” He took another step closer, his shoes nearly touching your toes. “And I don't make empty threat, principessa.”
“I could scream right now and someone will come in and stop you.” You threatened, hoping to deter him.
“I'm hurt you think I'm so stupid. I put a silencing charm on the room and looking charm on the door so no one could come in and you can't get out.” He said as he brushed a strand of your wet hair from your face.
You flinched from his touch, closing your eyes. “What are you gonna do to me?” You whisper.
“I'm gonna make you feel so, so good, bella.” He said and moved to kneel in front of you.
As soon as his knees hit the tile, you pushed him out of the way and ran out of the shower, trying not to slip.
“I already told you, you cant get out, cara mia.” He called out to you.
You ignored him and tried the door to the bathroom. Wouldn't even budge. You didn't have your wand on you either since you were showering. Hands wrapped around your waist and you fought against him, kicking back to hit him, which just ended up making you both fall to the ground. He was much quicker than you, propping you on your knees so your face was down and ass up for him while he held your hands behind your back. You couldn't see him from this angle, but felt his tongue flick your clit, making you moan.
“You act like you don't want me, but your soaking, cara mia.” He said before licking and sucking at your clit.
Your words died in your throat, replaced by a moan leaving your mouth instead.
“Your body knows what it wants, amore mio.” He licked up to your entrance, prodding his tongue inside.
“Fuck.” You moaned, eyes rolling back before closing.
He moaned against you and kept his onslaught of pleasure on your pussy until you came.
“That's my good girl. That's what I wanted.” He said as he helped ride out your high.
“To force yourself on me?” You asked as you caught your breath once the orgasm faded.
“To make you feel good, principessa.” He shuffled behind you a bit as he kept a hand holding yours down still. You could hear the sound of his pants being undone.
“I think there could've been another way to fuck me that didn't involve stalking and harassing me.” It probably wasn't a smart move to mouth off to your stalker, but you were so angry. You pulled your hands out of his grip and tried taking off, but he just grabbed your legs, making you fall back on your stomach.
“I think you like this, though. I see how soaked you are from this.” He pulled you back onto your knees and held onto both your wrists with both of his hands. His cock teased your entrance, coating it in your arousal.
“You think I like you forcing yourself on me?” You said, hissing from how sensitive you were when he nudged your clit.
“You haven't told me to stop.” He said before thrusting into you, immediately bottoming out and making you cry out. “You're practically dripping from how wet you are for me, cara mia.”
You couldn't even deny that, maybe you were crazy, but you were embarrassingly wet from all this.
He started thrusting in and out of you, his grip on your wrists tight, bruises will probably form later from all of this.
“Not even trying to fight back anymore. You finally accepting that you're enjoying this?” He asked, letting go of your wrists to grab your hips. “Or maybe I got you too cockdrunk on me. Is that it? Am I making you feel so good you can't talk?” His voice was condesending.
“Fuck off.” You said, clawing at the floor to grip something.
“You love testing me, principessa. I don't mind. I'm happy to put you in your place each time.” He said and you could practically hear the smile in his voice. “You can stop acting like you hate this. I can feel you clenching my cock like you can't get enough of it.”
“As if.” You said between moans. He was hitting you so deep and fast, it had another orgasm building quickly.
“Keep talking like that and next time I'll have to punish you, amore mio.” He said, moving a hand from your hip to grip your hair. “How about you be a good girl instead and cum on my cock for me, yeah?”
“Fuck, shit!” You cried out, so close to cumming.
“Scream my name when you cum. Wanna hear how it sounds from those pretty lips.” He groaned, he was getting close himself. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful, principessa.”
You came around him, trembling as his name fell from your lips over and over.
“That's the most beautiful sound I've ever fucking heard. Shit!” He said before moaning, his hips stilling as he came inside you, filling your pussy with his cum.
He pulled out as you both caught your breaths and stood back up, quickly redoing his pants before pulling out his wand and undoing the spells. He left the bathroom without another word to you as you slowly got up and went back to the shower to scrub the filth of what you'd done off of you.
And hopefully convince yourself that you didn't enjoy that.
Taglist:
@jeannie-beannie @yourenogoodforme @mixvchelle @helendeath @evaslytherpuff
@soaked4abby @hpnsfwaddict @mayamonroem @motherfing-stargirl @brittney-121
@dracoslovergirl @littlemadamred @mattheoriddlesbitch @acornacreacure @opheliamalfoy236
@demieyesore
Let me know if you wanna be added!
#slytherin boys#slytherin boys x reader#slytherin boys smut#thedore nott x reader#theodore nott#theodore nott smut#theodore nott x reader smut
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I need more Price x sleepy reader
Like what if she's at base in his office taking a nap and she gets scared awake by something/someone & Price gets very angry <333
(she's me fr bc when someone wakes me up I just start crying-)
Bro if you wake up Price’s babygirl from a nap YOURE the one who’s abt to say goodnight lmao
Price feels guilty over his work sometimes— you’ll often come to visit him for lunch, and he’ll often get tied up with something that was only brought to his attention at the last minute, something that has to be done immediately. Doesn’t help that he hates paperwork, and isn’t the fastest at filling it out.
So you usually crash on his couch while you wait for him to finish, you’ve even got your own set of blankets and pillows for his couch by now. His office has an exterior wall, so it can get cold as all fuck in the winter, so you’re bundled up tight beneath your comforters today.
And then a fight breaks out. Right outside of his door. Some pissant sergeant and a private who doesn’t know any better, slamming each other against the walls and shouting threats. Foolish enough to start a fight right in front of a captain’s office— but while his girl is on the premises? Rest in fucking pieces. You get teary when you wake up to loud sounds, to yelling— god, you could never handle the yelling. Too sensitive. Too wound up and skittish when you’re startled out of dreamland.
His first move is to throw open the door, which stops the commotion immediately.
“I’d choose your words very, very carefully, you lot,” he warns. They sputter excuses, apologies.
“This hallway had better become dead. Bloody. Silent in a moment. If not, I’ll be sending you back to your C.O. In a bloody heap. Your choice.” He’s got their names memorized from their uniforms— the discipline they receive will not be an enviable one.
With that done, he shuts the door quietly and he’s at your side in a few strides, bushing your hair from your face and wiping the couple stray tears you shed. “There now, darl’. Your man’s not gonna let anything like that happen again, yeah? Just tuck back in and relax, sweet girl.”
He’ll only give you the softest of kisses, stroking your hair as he presses his warm lips to yours in that special way only he knows how. The way that gets his girl to settle, just the way she needs.
Bonus depravity:
John totally lets you sit under his desk and use his cock as a pacifier. Perched on a big pillows, your arms hugging his thigh as you suckle gently.
Your lashes flutter and your breathing evens, drool sliding down his shaft, wetting the chair. He reaches a hand down to pet you, to cup your face and feel how you hold his dick in your mouth.
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