#help me pls what do i do for the beginning scene?

[cheralith]

karasu is so lover boy coded, i can literally see him getting ready for a little friendship date with roommate!reader, getting ready to ‘more than a woman’ by the beegees… (HE HAS A BIG FAT CRUSH ON HER AND WE ALLLLL KNOW IT).

pls tell me u see this… maybe even a drabble on it 🌝

oh nonnie i see and hear everything oh so clear and vivid for this scene oUUAgh yes yesss... karasu tabito loverboy supreme! i hc his older sister was the one that did all the whipping in shape for him to treat women right so admittedly, he's probably the most boyfriend amongst the roomies—even above yukki dare i say? but that's for u to decide ahehe

karasu can hear the songs of your "getting ready" playlist leak through the walls, upbeat melodies of all sorts somehow making him more antsy by the minute—the love songs in particular don't help, especially one particular bee gees anthem.

he feels as though he should be used to this routine now, this orderly fashion of going out with you down to the farmer's market to welcome spring into the air since summer is just right around the corner, but even after a month of heading down together (just the two of you only. yukimiya has his little modelling gigs usually on the weekend and otoya sleeps in until noon.), he still can't get over that flutter of anticipation when you ask if he's still good to go for saturday grocery trips.

he's never been one to be particularly picky for fashion, but there's something so daunting about choosing the wrong shirt that unsettles him today. yukimiya had gifted him an artsy long sleeve button-up decorated with inky koi fish awhile ago and karasu has yet to touch it, thinking that the former bought it more on his own behalf rather than karasu's.

but when he noticed how out of place he seemed to be at your side, looking rather lazy in appearance with his ten-year-old band t-shirt and basketball shorts, he figured he should show at least the same effort you were giving for this weekend trip. otoya and yukimiya always looked put-together during outings, with karasu usually being the one with the simplest attire amongst the four of you.

was he doing this as to not embarass you? as to not embarass himself? that, karasu had yet to decide on without trying to blush at the picture of a more stylish version of himself by your side.

he studies the shirt with a pursed lip, picking at it loosely. it stands out so much against the rest of his closet with a rather intimidating spirit. karasu figures it's possibly why he hasn't touched it until now.

he stands in front of his mirror, cladded in jeans and a white tank-top. chewing his cheek, he goes to layer over the shirt in front of his chest again and again, trying to get used to the image of him in it without bubbling some sort of apprehension in his stomach.

he sighs in defeat. karasu figures it's too outlandish for someone like him and thinks he'll just retreat back to the safety of a light sweater instead—something that's all the familiar to him. at least the jeans add a nice touch, even if they were uncomfortable.

a soft knock at the door turns him away from beginning to hang the shirt on a hanger again.

"come in!" he calls out.

the latch clicks from his doorknob and you poke your head in, humming.

"hi," you greet with a smile, one karasu returns back with a nod of acknowledgement. "you ready?"

"nearly," karasu responds, "gimme another five, i think? ya can start the car if ya want, key's hanging near the door."

"gotcha, i'll bring the baskets down with me then," you throw him a thumbs up but suddenly crane your neck to see what he has in his hands. you blink curiously.

"that's a cool shirt," you compliment, pointing to the troublesome button-up laid on his bed. karasu perks up, going to focus his gaze on you again and how you admire the shirt that he was about to put away. "for sure that'll get you a bunch of compliments down at the market."

with that, you throw him another glimmering smile and close the door, skipping away to revv and ready his car for the drive.

karasu stares at where you just were a few seconds ago, your words playing again in his head. then, he goes to glance at the shirt laid limply before him.

he sighs, feeling a tug at the corner of his lips, his fingers delicately beginning to unbutton it.

[yandere-yearnings]

do u have any writing tips dar??? Ur stories are immaculate

nonnie?? that's so sweet of you to say, thank you😭🩷 in general, a lot comes to mind bc there's so many different components to writing (i.e dialogue, characterisation, structure,, even mindset!!) so if you want to hear abt anything specific pls lmk🥺 for now tho, i've summarised a few across the subject that i think are helpful, and they will be below the cut bc i'm shit at explaining things, so i ended up writing a lot hhh

i also wanna point out that these are just things that i've personally made note of over the years from my own experiences + being friends w/ other writers, but that doesn't mean they will apply to everyone!! more than anything, i always believe that you shouldn't let other ppl dictate how you do and enjoy things, so if smth works for you and you like it, there's nothing wrong w/ that even if it contradicts an opinion you got from some rando on the internet (a.k.a. me😔💔)

Know your game

I'd like to say that in writing, there's a vein of liberty that isn't echoed in very many other creative fields; a lot of the times you can go in blind, and still make something of it because the nature of fiction is liquid — if you can imagine it, it can work. So to say, I find that nine times out of ten, room for improvement doesn't necessarily lie in the content of someone's writing, and more so its execution.

You could play a desultory game of chess without knowing all the rules, but if you wanted it to be your best match, you'd have to be aware of every move you could make, no? What you do from there then becomes a matter of choice, and choice is a landmark divider between doing something and being good at doing something. There's a difference in omissions due to lacking the technical knowledge, and omissions made because you are aware they are optimal.

Knowledge on the fundamentals of literature will always serve you, and that isn't to say you have to study all forms and contexts, but if you want to write a story, for example, it will always help to know the common elements of one. Grammar, punctuation, structure — brushing up on those things will build your toolkit, and once you've got that, you have the self-autonomy to decide what to use from it. My three favourite writers only use commas and full stops, and their works are, on all levels, spectacular. Still, if you asked them how to use a semi-colon, they'd be able to tell you.

Appreciating the basics will also tie into your creative exploration as a writer, which is a cornerstone in developing your distinctive writing style. I doubt a person in any type of craft hasn't heard a variation of know the rules before you break them, so studying until you do, inside out, remains beneficial to both new and old writers alike.

2. Have a starting point

This tip is fairly applicable to a range of different types of writing, and how one would practice it depends strongly on individual preference and styles of working. Some people like to plan things out thoroughly whilst others, including myself, like to dive in headfirst, and there's nothing wrong with either approach. The commonality between both types of writer is that regardless, they will have at least a vague idea of where to start from — a scene that they've bullet-pointed prior, a lyric that resonated with them, a mental image, an emotion or even just a single word that everything branches from. What all these details achieve is writing that has motion, because you have something of substance to piggyback you to an end point (the establishment of which is also important, but I will not be covering in this post).

3. Decide a structure

Again, this can be done both comprehensively or as simply as just having the thought to adhere to a certain method. As you gain more experience as a writer, you'll begin to understand what works best for you and create a system of your own, but starting out, there are a number of templates that have already been established by writers that you can follow, and find by researching. What matters most is that by using one — whichever it may be — you're turning your text into a story.

As an example, I'll detail two that I use regularly, in their simplest forms for the sake of brevity:

A linear narrative moves from point A to point B, and from point B to point C, etc. and all subsequent points build on the previous ones until your goal is reached. It's a system that works well for shorter pieces because it has a definite structure, like a length of spine and its individual vertebrae (and although we're talking about writing here, I think Newton's Third Law of Motion sums it up very well: every action has a reaction.)

A coalescing narrative considers all points as separate elements that may or may not always interact, but all contribute to the end point to different extremes. It's a useful template for creating depth in a piece, but due to its complexity, is better applied to longer projects.

They are visualised respectively below.

4. Iterate

If you think of your first draft as a block of clay, everything you do to it will equate to it being moulded and shaped, and if you think of your first draft as a skeleton, everything you do to it will equate to flesh being put on the bones. If you want your piece to be the best it can be, there's a sort of detachment you must have from it, where you won't have the fear of changing it until it is in the image of what you have intended. Write and rewrite, add things, take them away, make a separate copy for every edit if that makes it easier for you, but keep working it until you are happy.

Iteration doesn't just apply to drafts — chapters, paragraphs, sentences and even singular words can be given the same treatment. When you pick up the habit, the process becomes second-nature and you'll find that the first lines you put down are the ones that make it into the final piece, and that is in light of sorting through the renditions unconsciously. Additionally, you don't have to do things in one sitting; sometimes taking a break and coming back to your writing with a fresh outlook is valuable.

5. Analyse and apply

One piece of advice I always see given when someone asks how to improve their writing is to read more, and though it is — at its core — a tip worth acknowledging, it always comes across as unserviceable to me. There is nothing that reading will change for you if you are not actively practicing the things you learn, or even actively learning to begin with. So to address it as a matter of semantics, I feel it's best put as studying the writing of others, as opposed to reading.

If you have a favourite author, go over their works twice — once as a reader to identify what you like about them, and then again as a writer to identify why you like those things. To put it into context, if I read something and decided that I enjoyed how clear and easy to understand it was, I'd do a second pass to figure out the attributing qualities. Perhaps it's the use of punctuation, chosen sentence forms or even the simplicity of words used. My first tip of knowing different literary fundamentals is complementary here, because it makes the analysis and application of isolated features that much more smooth, and also means you'd be able to adapt them into your own style instead of just copying the other writer, which is what you want to avoid.

(Some writers I personally recommend studying are @ozzgin, @monstersholygrail, @aayakashii and @urprettylildoe for readability and clarity in execution, @moyazaika, @carnivorousyandeere and @purerae for characterisation and dialogue, @suiana and @unhappy-last-resort for engaging plots and concepts, and @sabotsen and @lirational for word choice.)

[destiny-in-the-universe]

current updates + more

Okay so, honestly-

I started feeling a little inspired earlier today and figured I could get some more of my thoughts out- I have a few fanfics in the making, some which are meant to be gifts for people I either follow and/or are my mutuals; there are some which are, of course, meant to be personal ideas I simply decided I wanted to write! Now, I have sort of been in an angst mood as of late but unfortunately a lot of things were happening at the same time and it impaired my ability to write- which is not a great time, mind you though to get the point!

This one is directed to one of my followers and I won't tag them, but they know who they are-

I have been thinking about the tengu! Howard idea I'm working on and holy shit, I can't stop mulling over how it's going to go because not only do I have this not-quite human bird demon about ready to defend his flockmate friend but there's also the actual fight to happen. Now the idea is mostly centered around Howard since Randy is pretty much out for the count during a lot of the fic-

I'm obviously very normal about the tengu! Howard arc because honestly, it should have gotten explored more in canon but that didn't happen which means I'm left having to put pieces together on my own. Now, here's the deal: Howard's link to the tengu and by extent, the Ninja, is a messy, complicated thing-

You have this literal bird demon possessing you, and you're sharing the pain- as is canon, what happens to the Ninja happens with the bird but obviously I am using creative liberty with it and Howard is nothing if not protective of Randy and while it isn't as obvious because, well, it's Howard and our boys are completely dumb of ass- there's the literal fact we've seen Howard lose his goddamn mind every-time something dire happens to Randy and we also see him prone to rage fits

He's never seen Randy truly get hurt as the Ninja until he is and that feeling of flock begins screaming at him- Howard completely loses it, it's as if something deep is burning inside of him and it will come out no matter what. The idea itself is that Howard and Randy are practically soulmates, and well, our favorite orange-coded boy is so upset but he can feel the tengu too

All he can see is the blood. He can hear nothing but the sick thud when Randy- the Ninja hit the ground and now Howard is determined to finish off the Sorcerer (i don't think he's going to kill the Sorcerer, but something will happen-), he feels like he's lost control- filled with rage and panic and determination- and right now, the priority is getting the Sorcerer away from the Ninja because the Ninja is his- no one else can have him

Randy's either unconscious at this point because the suit is trying to save him, or he's weakly trying to get up again- he's not doing so hot and he can't make sense of anything happening, so instead he's just lying there - barely able to move

Randy and Howard are yin and yang, they are soulmates. They're bound to each other, and seeing Randy so weak- unable to do anything- sparks a newfound rage in Howard

I can't specify enough how much this idea is rotating in my brain- I'm trying to work out the introduction scene and I kind of... need help? so if anyone can give me pointers on whether I should start directly with the battle or add a slight bit of 'filler' before it begins, that would be amazing

I might honestly make a playlist for the fic because oh my god- tengu! Howard has so much potential honestly, and I want to shake that puppy up in my teeth but something I also wanted to mention is that I can't imagine how painful it must be that even the Ninja isn't invincible? He's seen Randy take hits before and patched him up, but nothing compares to suddenly seeing him drop like deadweight onto the ground, and the sight of red slowly coming out of his body- and just, Howard can't lose Randy he just can't-

(he feels like there's something rotten in him when he lets the tengu link- sync with his mind and rush after the sorcerer, but if it means his revenge then so be it)

I will be talking about my Kitsune OC and First Ninja story in a completely separate post because I have ideas about that too, but honestly at least one of these fanfictions has to be completed eventually lol- and I have my asks to get through!

Though honestly, I'm going to be writing a lot of angst for RC9GN (like let me see more fanfictions where randy is getting injured, howard's hurt- give me fanfictions where the sorcerer is more powerful). I might do a little thing for my infection AU, but honestly like I have many ideas and not a single one is fully complete- please be patient with me, I'll be done as soon as I can

Things have been a little hectic lately, and well- with my appointment today, which went well actually!, I just haven't had full time to concentrate but without much further ado- I will be signing off for now!

~ Mod Danny

[hannieween]

a date with the devil | yoon jeonghan

› pairings: yoon jeonghan x female reader › aus: gang leader jeonghan, bad boy jeonghan › genres: smut (18+) › word count: 26.1k

› warnings READ THEM CAREFULLY 🗣️: shamefully stole a line from the show daredevil, gore, guns and other weapons, blood, injuries, descriptive violence, dub con, glamorized gangster shit, toxic and dark themes, cheating, yandere undertones, jeonghan is a jerk in the beginning, smut with plot, dirty talk, hard dom jeonghan, really subby reader, pussy drunk jeonghan, spit kink, degradation kink, voyeurism, some praise kink, impact play, instant love, fucking with clothes on, multiple unprotected p in v scenes, cumming on skin, creampies, fingering, breeding kink, pull out method, creampie, possessive jeonghan, manhandling rough fucking with love, dumbification, hannie is kind of insane and reader is too, backshots. brat taming: orgasm denial, spanking, humiliation. use of the word slut, pet names: baby, baby girl, good girl, pretty, sweetheart (hers) sir (jeonghan)

› 🎧: kazino – bibi | honey! – tabber ft. dean | control me – colde | bubbly – ethan low | i need you around – yugyeom ft. devita | movies – devita | 007 – tabber ft. syd | ghosts – highvyn | the killa – txt | hold me – hojean | shut the fuck up, that's mine – tabber | bonnie & clyde – dean

› this one shot is part of my hannieween fest/kinktober special!

› disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂 › author's note: hey! hello! hi! this is the second part of my hannieweenfest/kinktober! this has been really fun so far! this is super self-indulgent — like i didn't even plan for this to reach these many words. so, i hope you like this! buckle up (●'◡'●) › author's note: big thanks to booki @kwanisms for helping me come up with seungcheol's nickname 🙂‍↕️ › another author's note: some bits of this are rushed and i apologize. tumblr is a bitch that did not let me expand on my ideas as i wanted to 😭 it's not thoroughly proofread but pls enjoy

› one, double-crossed

THE WALK FROM YOUR APARTMENT TO THE WORKSHOP WAS THIRTY MINUTES. You hugged yourself tightly as you hastily walked on the sidewalk, shooting a glance both ways before crossing the street, high-heels clacking at your wake.

Aside from the few incoming cars and the trucks that stopped by every corner to collect waste, the night was quiet. If you kept your pace, no one would see you. If no one saw you, no one would care that you were gone for the night.

You kept on the sidewalk, going under a bridge, the echoes from the upcoming cars rattling your head. Dull, pale streetlights blinded your vision as you tilted your head skyward, trying not to miss your step. God, what am I doing? But before you could try and justify this, you quickened your pace.

Reflecting was not going to work. It never does with these guys.

You recognized Kim Mingyu by the dark matte helmet he was taking off. His fingers unclicked the strap beneath his chin, placing his hands at the sides of the helmet to pull his head out. He let out a relieved sigh, mouth falling open as he ruffled his long dark hair.

His gaze found you at the clacking of your quick footsteps on the concrete. “What are you doing here?”

“You could at least say hi first,” you snapped, stopping before his Kawasaki Ninja. A black powerful bike, sleek, elegant, and faster than a race car.  

He was known for the loud revving that swept through the streets at night. You knew him, however, as one of the gang’s most trusted members. Quick-witted. The muscle of the group.

“What I’m going to say to you is goodbye,” he hissed, darting his gaze around, making sure you were indeed alone. “You can’t be here.”

“I need to go inside. Do you know what will happen if someone sees me here?” you retorted, leaning closer to the bike to no use. The man was so tall you had to keep your chin up to look at him in the eyes.

“Yeah, I fucking do,” he whispered sharply. He snapped his head to his side, motioning to the other way. “Now, go home. You’ll find nothing here.”

You huffed loudly at him, rolling your eyes. “All of you are so useless.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Mingyu said through his teeth, making it hard for you to listen. You were already turning away, walking down the side of a building.

A row of motorbikes were parked outside the workshop, making it seem like the place was packed inside. But as you passed by, the shutter doors were rolled up so you could get a quick glimpse inside. Vernon, the guy that gathered intel on the streets to communicate for the gang, sat alone on a rusty old couch, sipping on a can of pop.

The man arched an eyebrow at you, but remained quiet, his eyes following you as you passed the entrance and turned to the back of the building, where you heard the real workshop was.

As soon as you pushed the door open, you knew that you should have not walked in there. All your confidence, all your determination to get this done, dissipated in a second. The room was dark, smelling like grease and something else that made your nose itch. 

Jeon Wonwoo stood up abruptly the instant he saw you come in, the loud noise of his chair falling making you jolt. “Get out of here,” he snapped.

“Where is he?” you asked, keeping your tone as flat as possible.

Wonwoo was someone who made you nervous naturally, being the one that was known to be the gang leader’s second in command. The one that aside from being a drug-runner, moonlighted as the gang’s spy. 

“Get the fuck out,” he muttered, taking two big steps your way, grabbing you by the shoulders, and pushing you to the door.

You tried to slap his hands off you, “No, tell me where Seungcheol is.”  

At the sound of his boss’s name, he retreated willfully. “In the back,” he replied, bewildered. “Why are you looking for him?”

“I need to talk to him,” you muttered, your voice breaking a bit. “My sister has gone missing, and I think he knows where she might be.” You read his gaze, just as he was reading yours. “Didn’t you know she’s missing?”

“What the fuck,” Wonwoo said under his breath. And in his confusion, he made a mistake.

Jeon Wonwoo, the guy you knew to be sagacious, flashed a look at one of the doors to his left. And that is where you turned your next step towards.

“No, wait,” he muttered. “Fuck!” he exclaimed quietly as you turned the doorknob and pushed through. 

It was a storage room. One wall was covered with industrial racks holding duffel bags. There was a table. You were not sure what you had thought you would find as you took in your surroundings. But you found the smell that was caused your nose to itch.

There were two men in the room. One was sitting far back to where you stood. He had short black hair, a fringe that sit parted on his forehead. The other, closer to the entrance, had pale blond hair, long enough that the front strands reached his cheekbones. 

This was Choi Seungcheol.

Seungcheol arched one eyebrow at you in the doorway. “Can I help you?” he spoke slowly, motioning a hand at Wonwoo who was standing closely.

The man exited the room, closing the door behind him.

“Y-yeah,” you croaked, finding your voice. “I want to talk to you,” you sent a meaningful look at a man sitting across from Seungcheol, implying you needed to talk alone.

Yoon Jeonghan sat on the other chair. He rested his elbow on the table and his chin in the palm of his hand. His brown eyes were expressionless, but you knew he was known to be like that. The book-keeper to the notorious boss Choi Seungcheol, his best friend and confidant.

“What about?” now he was raising both eyebrows, not noticing your unspoken message.

“Ki-ki…” you stuttered, looking between them nervously.

“Eh?” Seungcheol made a face of annoyance. “Why are you here?” he asked with a heavy tone. “You know you can’t just walk in here, you know that, right?”

Seungcheol placed the dismantled gun on the table, throwing the dirty rag on its side with a frustrated sigh.

Oh, you were well aware that you could not just walk into Seungcheol’s workshop and expect to come out scatheless. Or to come out of there at all. Choi Seungcheol was unnerving, intimidating. He had a reputation of being ruthless and calculated, once wiping out a whole gang in a single night, earning the nickname The Shadow of Daegu.

Part of his reputation also stemmed from the fact that not a single gunshot was fired. He handled everything with his hands.

“You’re so damn clueless,” Seungcheol hissed, reclining back on his chair. “Look, kid,” he quirked up a thick eyebrow. “I don’t know what you’re doing, but you’re not going to find anything in here.”

“I… I…” you searched for words, you had a whole thing rehearsed. But once standing upon The Choi Seungcheol, stupefaction swallowed you whole.

“Go,” the blond-haired man sneered, crossing his big arms over his chest. “And don’t come back.”

“I need to know where my sister is. Kiki’s been radio-silent for three days,” you blurted, your voice airy as if you had just used all of the air in your lungs to get those words out.

“And you presume I know where she is?” Seungcheol paused, linking his fingers together and placing his hands on his middle.

You made a motion to step closer but stopped short when the man bristled. The other man did not move, he did not speak, and you were sure, he had not even blinked. “No, but Hyunjun does.”

Seungcheol sent his gaze around the room as if looking for his fucks to give, shrugging. “You’re failing to make a point.”

“I think Hyunjun suspects I want to leave him,” you said through a ragged breath, it was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe. You knew you were on the brink of falling into a panic attack. “And he won’t tell me where Kiki is. I believe he’s holding her hostage, so I won’t break our engagement.”

“Ever heard of a lawyer? Some common people could handle that for you,” Seungcheol arched one eyebrow.

“You of all people know that won’t fucking happen,” you spat, crossing your arms to show some assertiveness, but deep down you were doing it to hold yourself together. “I do that, and he kills her. I won’t even get close to finding someone who even wants to go against him.”

“Again, the point,” Seungcheol punctuated, lowering his face but keeping his heavy gaze piercing your face.

“I want you to kill him.”

Seungcheol did not pause, scoffing right away. “One, you have balls to come here,” he sneered, lip curling slightly over his perfect set of teeth. “Two, who the fuck do you think you are to boss me around? And three, I don’t know how you found this place, but I do want to see you getting the fuck out of here before things turn drastic.”

You were used to receiving threats, almost daily, but being so worn out over Kiki’s disappearance had made you more irrational than you would have liked to be in a place like this.

“Please,” your voice brimmed with sorrow to the point that your limbs had started to tremble. “I’ll do anything.”

“Why don’t you kill him yourself?” Seungcheol drawled. “Why should I get my hands dirty?”

This is not going according to plan. Between the buzzing in your ears and your pounding heart, you knew something was extremely wrong. This is supposed to be Hyunjun’s rival, the only person in the whole city who would want him dead.

Seungcheol sat up straight, the foldable chair creaking underneath his weight. “Now go, before I have you removed,” he shooed at you with his hand, grabbing his gun and the rag to continue cleaning it.

You stood there, hopeless, helpless.

One thing that bothered you was, Yoon Jeonghan stared at you the whole time. Even as your tears started to roll down your cheeks, he stayed cold, expressionless. You were sure you had not seen him blink even once. It was as if he might miss out on some important detail. But you were the only thing to look at, nothing interesting.

You were crying, sobs broke from within you, flooding the room. You were sure you looked lost, like a kid that just lost a parent in the open street.

“Wonwoo,” Seungcheol called, eyes set on his work.

“Yes?” Wonwoo opened the door, and something told you he had been standing behind it the whole time.

“Show her out,” Seungcheol pointed at you with the tip of his nose, while his hands worked on putting his gun together. “And check that no one followed her here.”

“Yes, boss,” Wonwoo said, his hand grabbing you by the elbow. “Let’s go.”

“No, wait!” you cried out, face tearstained. You grabbed at the door frame, holding on for dear life as the man switched his grip from your arm to your waist, dragging you out of the room. “Please!”

“Fucking hell–,” Wonwoo grunted, managing to lift you by the waist, letting you go once you were out of the workshop. “I fucking warned you.”

“Let go, let go, let go,” you banged your hands on his hard chest, just as his hands released their tight grip on your waist with little to no care. As if he were disposing of something grimy and nasty.

“Go home,” he said, looking back to make sure no one else was listening. “Why the fuck did it occur to you this was a good place to seek help?”

“You won’t understand,” you plastered your palms against your cheeks, wiping your tears. “No one will.”

“Go home,” he reiterated. “And watch your back.”

You knew he did not mean to watch your back from him or any of Seungcheol’s people. You raised your teary eyes to find his cold stare. “He will kill her,” you declared with a sorrowful tone. “And it’s all my fault.”

“You knew what you were getting her into when you got engaged to someone like Hyunjun,” he murmured, and even if his statement was dull, there was some pity shining in his eyes. “Go.”

You turned on your heel on the wet pavement, walking away from the workshop. Wonwoo’s words resonated in your brain with each step you made, turning the corner and then into a deserted alley, deciding to wait.

There was nowhere to go now. You could not go back after crossing enemy territory. Even if Hyunjun did not know where you were, he would wonder why you even left the apartment.

If he started suspecting your plans were afoot, you were for sure a dead woman.

Wonwoo was wrong. You did not know what you were getting yourself into when you got engaged two years ago to that monster. You knew what he dedicated his time to, of course. But you did not know how insane he was when he proposed to you, and you said yes.

Even then, you did not have a choice.

› two, damned if you do

This part of the city was usually safe, and quiet. You wondered if Seungcheol and his gang made it so that no one would suspect that this was where his headquarters were. The workshop was found between a butchery and a flower shop, so it made sense for the place to be in this section of the neighborhood. It was the least place they would find suspicious.  

It was a Monday night. The only people strolling by the streets were people going back home from work, not noticing you hiding in an alley. Even if they did, no one would care.

You banged the back of your head on the wall repeatedly, trying to come up with a plan. “Think, think,” you whispered into the midnight air. It was fresh with light rain, droplets of water falling on your head.

The loud roaring of engines announced them before you even saw them pass by. One by one you counted, one, two, and another two motorbikes running down the street, turning left and, you assumed, into the heart of the city. A big black SUV rolled on closely behind them, making your heart drop, that was Choi Seungcheol’s van.

You tried to become one with the wall behind you, pressing yourself into it. You shut your eyes tightly as the sound of wheels rolling on the sidewalk came closer. Vernon skillfully skateboarded down the street. Even if the pavement was wet, the man did not slow down or go on foot.

The moment he disappeared from your view, was when the second part of your plan started rolling. Granted, it felt more like you were improvising, but you needed to do something.

So you went back, hating every second as you rushed to the workshop again, going to the back of the old building. With Vernon, Mingyu and Wonwoo being gone, you had a chance to open the door freely, finding a place to hide.

The first part of the workshop was just that, a simple space for mechanical repairs. There were two doors, one where you had your conversation with Seungcheol, the other you assumed was a washroom.

So you went back outside, shivering from both the cold creeping up to your bones and the rush from being practically in the belly of the beast. You found a large trash container, auto parts dumped on top of the lid.

You treaded quietly around it, crouching down next to it. You thanked the midnight rain that washed away any smells from your new hiding place, also thanking whoever decided to throw away such large amounts of garbage to use them as cover.

The door to the workshop was pushed open, making your limbs go rigid and you sucked in a breath.

A lighter rasped a few times, the sound of flames burning paper caught your attention. Yoon Jeonghan drew in a large intake from his cigarette, his eyes narrowing as he swallowed the smoke, then quickly blew it out of his mouth.

If you can’t see him, he can’t see you. You tried to convince yourself, knowing damn well that it was a lie. You stayed stiff, holding your breath as the man paced on the pavement, smoking his cigarette, cursing under his puff of smoke when it started raining harder.

The rain pattered on the lid of the trash container, and the auto parts surrounding it. But it also made a soft sound as each heavy drop landed on your jacket. The sound was not enough for Jeonghan to notice, but it did add to your nerves.

The man paused once, and you got ready to make a run for it. But as he kept strolling down the alley, you relaxed.

Yoon Jeonghan was just a bookkeeper. That was how you knew him, as the guy who kept a record of all the shipments arriving on the bay, the ongoing train cargo, and so on. It made sense for the accountant to stay behind, while Mingyu and Wonwoo went on their operations and Vernon to make his plug shit.

But Seungcheol? Would he go too?

“What’s the problem?”

Jeonghan’s voice broke through the sound of the rain, making you gasp, hand flying to cover your mouth. The man paced back and forth, humming pensively as he lifted the cigarette to his mouth once again.

“Wasn’t he on our payroll?” he asked with a quiet, but dangerous tone. “I know he’s on our payroll, but did you remind him of that?”

Some things have started to fall into place. You stopped covering your mouth placing both hands on the side of the container for support, leaning forward to see him walking in circles.

“No, no. Leave him be. I don’t want to do anything at the moment, I just want to know where the fucking ship is with my cargo,” he gritted at the phone, his thumb and ringer finger pinching the bridge of his nose, cigarette still safe between his middle and pointer. “I don’t fucking care, Seungcheol. I’ll burn this city down to find that fucking rat if that’s what it takes.”

He took one last drag of his cigarette, rolling his eyes to the sky as he nodded his head to each of the muffled words spoken by Seungcheol on the other side of the call.

“Yes, mmn. Mmn. Right, you do that. See you here. Bye.” He slid his phone into the pocket of his black denim jeans, sighing out his frustration.

You carefully and ever so slowly pressed back against the wall again, processing what you had heard, knowing why you were confused when you saw Seungcheol leaving the workshop along with the two drug runners. 

“The fuck are you doing out here?”

Your heart jumped to your throat, but you did not dare move.

You heard his footsteps crushing the gravel on the pavement as he approached you, the soles of his boots matching each pounding of your heart as he stood before you.

Jeonghan tilted his head back a little, eyes narrowly searching your face as you gaped at him. “I’m talking to you,” he arched one eyebrow.

“I… I’m not hiding,” idiot.

“You’re either on a suicide mission or got nowhere to go,” he said pointedly. When you gave him no answer, he hummed in amusement. “Or both,” he decided, nodding his head, and discarding his cigarette in a puddle of rain. “Come, you’ll catch a cold out here.”

He turned away from where you crouched, the heavy clanking of the door being pulled open startled you even more.

Fear settled deep down in the pit of your belly, twisting your guts. Being in this world meant that you were in constant danger. You have learned to tune in to your instincts, but when your instincts are telling you to run away all the time, it gets harder to pay attention.

“Unless you want to stay there, which Seungcheol won’t like,” he shrugged, motioning you inside.

You rose to your feet, which tingled once you put them to use, each step you took towards the man bringing your senses to a full nerve-rack.

Jeonghan closed the door once you were inside. “Sit,” he offered, pointing to a rusty foldable chair. “I’d offer you water, but I don’t trust the pipes in this retched place.”

“It’s okay,” you croaked, feeling weirder every second you were in the same room as him.

“You were planning on hiding out to… what end, exactly?”

“I already told Seungcheol,” you shrugged, deciding to sit down on the chair in the middle of the workshop. “I won’t be saying anything else until he comes back.”

“Mmn,” he hummed in understanding. “What makes you think he’ll cooperate this time.”

“I don’t know,” you said, playing coy, but you were telling the truth when you added, “I’m improvising at this point.”

Your gaze stopped at the drain in the corner of the space, a hose mounted on the wall. A thought crossed your mind: have people been tortured here?

Jeonghan was acting odd. Another thing you have learned living in this world is: be aware of the men who pose to be meek and quiet. You would know that even if you had not been raised in this dark life. 

He was being strangely amicable. And that fired up every single alarm in your head.

The man was clad in dark clothes. Tight denim jeans, chelsea boots, and a leather bomber jacket. His dark and short hair tussled carelessly, and was wet from standing under the rain.

Jeonghan sent one look at you, dropping his act when he made note of your scrutiny. He sighed once again, but this was resignation. Pulling his hands from his pockets, he walked closer to where you sat.

“The clever one is the one who plays the fool,” Jeonghan said, kneeling so he could level with you. “And you… you’re no fool, are ya?”

What? The only thing that came out of your mouth was the shaky sound of the breath you took.

Yoon Jeonghan pinched your chin with two fingers. Like a hunter who just found its prey cute. “It’s easy to mask your cleverness with that pretty face,” he commented while standing back, his hands sinking into the pockets of his black trousers. “Everyone thinks that being pretty makes you dumb. But these guys are ugly and dumb for not making sure you had gone away.”

“What?” you blurted, your voice merely a whisper. Beneath your confusion, a thought forced you to continue playing the innocent. “I… I’m—I just want to talk…”

“You want to talk to Seungcheol?” he asked, tilting his head to one side, standing in front of you so close you could see the drops of water on his jacket.

As if the man had heard his name, Seungcheol entered the workshop, wearing a frown on his face. “What’s the meaning of this?”

“We need to start thinking about what to do with friendly intruders,” Jeonghan tutted, smirking at your reaction. “What?”

“Don’t call me that,” you muttered, standing up from the rusty chair and smoothing out your clothes with a huff. “I don’t like being patronized.”

Seungcheol’s eyes widened in shock. And much to your surprise, you saw fear in his eyes. “How long has she been in here?”

“What did you hear, sweetheart? When you were outside,” Jeonghan asked, and for a moment, you thought that maybe your earlier suspicions were wrong.

“I heard nothing.”

The answer just flew past their ears. Both men remained impassive, waiting for you to give them the real answer.

“I heard everything,” you sighed. 

“Your sister is dead. It’s easier to give her up for dead and move on,” Seungcheol spoke out, a stern look on his face. Though the statement was heavy, you knew it was not true.

Mingyu and Wonwoo entered the workshop. As soon as they saw your face, they exchanged a look.

“What?! No, it isn’t,” you blurted, face scrunching in annoyance. “And I know she isn’t dead. If she were, Hyunjun would have displayed her dead body in front of me in some way. Holding Kiki as hostage gives him use over me. That is why I want him dead.”

“Seriously?” Mingyu sighed, shaking his head, and dropping on a seat in the corner of the room.

Wonwoo decided to do the same, though his movements were measured as he sat beside him. “What a nice fiancé you got there.”

Three men looked confused. As the seconds went by, the theory solidified in your mind. Yoon Jeonghan remained expressionless, hands deep in his pockets, his gaze never deterring away from you, again.

“Leverage over you,” Seungcheol repeated with a flat tone again.

You realized it was not a question, but you nodded anyway. “There is a reason why I haven’t gotten married to him yet. He wants to have my name. My dad’s name. I won’t allow it.”

“That fucking lunatic,” Seungcheol said under his breath, running his fingers through his long blond hair. “I swear I’ll fucking kill him.”

“So you’ll do it? You’ll kill him?” you crossed your arms, darting a look at the only man in the room who did not seem confused one bit.

Jeonghan finally moved, opening his mouth to let out a raspy sigh. “Okay, so what is your plan?” he crossed his arms, shrugging when you did not give him an answer right away. “You must have planned something when you came in here thinking Seungcheol would help. You have something to offer.”

Seungcheol cast a curious look at Jeonghan, arching one eyebrow but when he did not dare to bite back at Jeonghan’s offhanded comment, you knew you were right all along. 

“You’re the leader,” you muttered in amazement.

Jeonghan pursed his lower lip, bobbing his head once. “Which leads me to think that not even Hyunjun’s aware of this. But that doesn’t surprise me, either he’s too stupid to realize, or he doesn’t have that kind of pillow talk with you.”

You bristled. In this world, you were used to coming across all kinds of people, none of them had manners, or even one ounce of tact when speaking to women. Or to people in general.

But the truth was, you did not have any kind of pillow talk with your fiancé. He would much rather spend his nights in the bed of other women than share the same space as you. It had been a while since he did so much as kiss you on the cheek.

However, you were nosy. And you built your case before you could make a run for it and come to the workshop.

Seeing your reaction, Jeonghan smirked. “So, both?” he approached you with a steady step. “Well then, are you going to tell me that little plan of yours?”

“You mentioned a problem with your shipments in the bay,” you said promptly, even while your whole body shook with unbearable anxiety, you pushed yourself to blurt the next words. “I know why.”

Jeonghan bore into you with his dark gaze, his lips parted, and you knew that his interest had locked in on you. “I’m listening.”

“I need your part of the deal,” you said. Being inches closer to his face, you could spot the mole on his cheek. “I won’t say unless you give me your word that you’ll get rid of him.”

“Get rid of him or kill him?”

“Semantics,” you rolled your eyes.

“No, no,” he had lowered his tone too, and with his voice, it seemed like he was cooing at you: “I could lock him in a warehouse for the rest of his life or I could throw him into the deepest ocean with his hands tied behind his back. Those two are not the same. Your choice.”

“Kill him,” you uttered at once.

“And you’ll tell me every little thing you know.” His dark gaze shone, even in the badly lit room. You saw the fascination burning in his eyes.

“To the last bit,” you promised.

And that was the moment when you knew. Yoon Jeonghan was crazy. Even if the thought had crossed your head some seconds before, this was what solidified it. If he was as cunning as he gave you the impression, then he knew you were just as crazy too.

“Deal.”

› three, damned if you don’t

That same night you struck your deal with Yoon Jeonghan, he started to work with the information you gave him. Though you knew how to play your cards, and did not give him everything you knew at once. You needed to keep yourself safe until you knew Kiki was safe, and far away from this shitty life.

“You’re going to go back home,” Jeonghan instructed, leaning back on the chair, and crossing his arms over his chest.

Your eyes widened in fear, even sitting across from him, he was unnerving for so many reasons. “Bu-but I can’t go back there—,”

He raised one hand to stop your protest. “You need to fool him. Make him think that everything is under his control still,” he raised his gaze to find Seungcheol standing by the doorway, hands clasped tightly on his back. “Have someone drop her by her apartment, do this quietly.”

“Are you seriously trusting her?” Seungcheol cocked one perfectly thick eyebrow.

“Do I have another option?” Jeonghan retorted, blinking slowly at the man. “So far, your boys haven’t come up with useful intel. We hadn’t got a single scrap of intel until she showed up at our door. If you have any suggestions, make them right now.”

“We should not let her go, then,” Seungcheol debated.

“It’s the third time you speak as if I weren’t in the room,” you intervened.

Then you saw something you were not expecting. Yoon Jeonghan smirked. The corners of his lips raised slightly, but you caught the sight. And the effect it had on you was like eating candy for the first time. It was exciting, like a rush of fresh oxygen to the brain.

“You will have to come back to me. Back and forth, from your home to here,” Jeonghan murmured, driving his gaze from Seungcheol to your eyes. “Indefinitely.”

“What, are you going to keep me here?” you asked, sending a short glance around the place.

“So you’re not upset you have to stay with us but upset about being in the workshop?” Jeonghan arched one eyebrow bemusedly.

“Well, I’d rather be literally anywhere else than with that animal,” you huffed, trying not to roll your eyes. “Yes, this place is horrible. It smells.”

“You’re going to take the most important stuff and hide it,” Jeonghan added, ignoring your comments. “Now, I don’t want you to be obvious. Just grab your passport and I don’t know, your phone charger, put them somewhere within reach in case you need to run.”

“Not even clothes?”

“You can buy that shit, don’t be ridiculous,” he grimaced.

“How will I buy that shit?” you bit back, leaning over the table. “I don’t have any money, he took everything from me.”

This is how you knew these people to be. Cold-blooded, cunning, calculated. You always believed that the head of the clan was Choi Seungcheol because of his way of handling things. He had a reputation, and his gang did too, naturally. You knew his gang from climbing quickly to be the rival to your dad’s.

And you were known as the fiancé to your dad’s second in command. Not as his daughter. You were a prized possession. A trophy soon-to-be-wife.

“But not your name,” Jeonghan remembered keenly. “You said that. Why?”

You bit back your tongue, sighing through your nose before mustering up the courage to give in a little bit more. “Because that way he will have access to everything my father left me,” you blurted out. “He wouldn’t have shit without my father. And he won’t have shit without me.”

“Your father?”

“Hyunjun doesn’t have an empire, he doesn’t have shit. Everything he has, it’s thanks to that old man,” now it was your turn to cross your arms, deciding not to give any more.

“Mmph,” Jeonghan smirked. “So you’re the iron fist’s kid? I never knew he had kids.”

“Of course you didn’t,” you scoffed. “My dad’s a psycho but he kept me safe. His mistake was letting Hyunjun into our lives.”

“Your dad’s dead? This is news to me,” Seungcheol tilted his head, now totally captured by the information he was getting.

Your chest burned, you knew you were crossing a line you would not be able to come back from. “Close to,” you whispered. “Hyunjun is filling in for him.”

“But you’re his heiress,” Jeonghan pieced together. “What about your sister?”

“Kiki’s not my sister,” you confessed, blinking the hot tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “She’s the only friend I have. The only friend I’ve ever had.”

“You would go to these lengths for someone who isn’t blood-related,” Jeonghan uttered.

You did not even bother to elaborate. Jeonghan did not need an answer, he was not even posing a question.

Jeonghan turned his head to the man standing behind him. “Get to work,” he told Seungcheol.

“I’ll bring the car around,” Seungcheol told you, motioning to the door to get you back home. He exited the room, leaving you with Jeonghan.

You stood up, and he followed waiting for you before the door as you approached it. “How do I know I can trust you?” you asked him.

“I want him dead as much as you do, sweetheart,” he whispered, the ghost of a smile showing on his lips. “But if it gives you more peace, then I’ll offer you this, you’ll be with me every step of the way. No secrets, you’ll be informed of everything.”

His words left you stunned for a long moment. Jeonghan had proven to be as secretive as your father, even competing at that.  And not only that, but you were also never included in Hyunjun’s plans, he never talked to you about anything that was going on in his life. You knew your reaction was visible because the smirk on his face grew more defined.

“Now, I’ll return the question to you. How do I know I can trust you?” his voice was quiet and velvety. But you knew men like him, you knew that he was planning more than he was letting it show.

“I’m being honest,” you shrugged, feeling like there was nothing more to your answer that you could give him.

“Honest won’t make you smart, sweetheart,” he drawled, his gaze dancing on the features of your face, setting every nerve ending in your body on fire.

“That’s all I have left, Jeonghan,” you whispered. 

“Fine, then I’m content with that,” he said. “Now go, I don’t want our plans ruined before we could even put them to work.”

Efficient. You walked out of the room with nothing more to say. Jeonghan stood in the doorway watching you go. In so little time, he showed you he was someone you could trust. You liked that. 

Plans take time. Soon, you would say goodbye to the last rains of September and welcome the snows of December. You learned that time forgives nothing, and waits for no one.

Hyunjun leaned back on his armchair, one elbow on the arm, reclining one of the temples of his head on his finger as he looked at the screen of his phone.

You used to think Hyunjun was attractive. He had a long, straight nose, full lips, dark hair, and a cold stare. Nothing in his face nor demeanor had softness. He was never sweet to you, nor kind.

And he had not looked at you for the entirety of the lunch, and you did not want him to.

“Any news from Kiki?” you asked, breaking the silence that was nearly choking you out.

Your fiancé dragged his gaze from his phone to where you sat, at the other end of the table, meters away from him. Your food was untouched.

“She’s having a nice stay in Greece,” he let you know in a stilted tone. “Last I phoned she could speak some sentences. I’m pretty sure she knows more now.”

I hate you. You had to play a fool every time you were around him, making him believe that you did not know why you could not talk to Kiki. You did not let it show that you knew of his rivals, of his deals with the cops and every single judge of the city.

He thought you were happily content at his side. Happy and deluded about his love affairs, the trail of bodies dropping around him.

“Will I be able to speak to her?” you rasped, clearing your throat, you raised the glass of orange juice to your lips.

“If you remain silent I’ll think about it,” he said with an annoyed tone, staring back at you.

“I’d like to talk to her,” you gritted with a forced sugary tone, masking your hate with another gulp of orange juice.

“Don’t you trust me, love?” he discarded his phone on the table, stretching his arms in a snappy manner to adjust the sleeves of his dress shirt.

Hyunjun was about to leave on a business trip to somewhere overseas. All you had to do to get this information was hack his phone. You had become so stealthy that he did not even know that you already knew every single one of his passcodes. You had even memorized his passport number.

“Of course,” you whispered. “I just miss her dearly. It’s her birthday soon.”

“You could talk to her on her birthday,” he gave you a stern look. “If you remain quiet.”

It was not her birthday soon. But your stupid fiancé did not know that. Though you kept your mouth shut, resorting to toying with the food on your plate until he rose to his feet and left to the master bedroom of the nice penthouse you shared as a couple.

“Tsk,” you spat.

Your phone buzzed in your lap, and you moved your gaze from your food to the screen, discreetly reading the text message you got.

[unsaved number] Yongsan station. 1 hour.

The reaction you got from your body was nearly involuntary. Your tummy twisted, your heart stammering rapidly in your chest.

Hyunjun came back to the dining room, collecting his phone where he left it. “I’ll be going now,” he said flatly, fixing the buttons of his collar.

“Want me to come with?” you muttered, faking a meek look at him.

“No,” he said. “I’ll be busy, it’s no holiday trip… we’ll have time for that, when we get married.”

You kept your gaze fixated on him. “I’ll wait for you, then,” you said. As if you could go anywhere.

If he registered what you said, he made no comment about it. You watched as Hyunjun stood beside you, leaning over to grab your face with his hand, forcing a hard kiss on your lips. Then he grabbed his jacket and the travel suitcase he had readied before the door and left.

You sat frozen for a bit, hand on your palpitating chest as you processed what had just happened. He’s your fiancé for fuck’s sake. Why did a kiss rattle you so much? It’s not like it was the first time he kissed you. But it certainly felt wrong; not only because you did not want to be kissed by him but because you ached to be kissed. Just not by him.

Some moments passed before stood up abruptly, chair squeaking on the faux marble floor as you ran to lock the front door, rushing to the window that gave you the view to the gate of the apartment building and waiting.

It was not until you saw his black BMW leaving that you carried on changing your clothes, starting by removing your silk robes and undoing the hairpin tying your hair together. You chose a warm sweater, jeans, and boots, completing your outfit with a jacket for the snow. You had long forgotten to look nice, you were only thinking of being efficient.

In the months you had been constructing your ploy, you had also crafted a routine for cases like this. You cleaned the table, did the dishes, and tidied your room. But you made it a rule to leave a mug with tea on your bedside table, a lip-stained napkin sitting beside it. On top of that, you also made sure to toss a blanket on the side of the bed.

You kept a copy of your apartment door in your pocket, leaving your original key on the kitchen counter.

And lastly, you would take your engagement ring, sliding it onto your finger, itching to get it off immediately.

You opened an umbrella as soon as you got out of the building, taking the fastest route to Yongsan station, which was less than a ten-minute walk. But you liked to be early.

You snuck some glances over your shoulders every so often, trying to keep your heart rate steady as you quickened your footing. Even as the snow fell on the city, the station was packed with people, though it was no surprise to you, given it was a rush hour.

But it being crowded provided some sense of security for you. You took the stairs up to one of the bridges near by, deciding to stay there to keep watch for a sign, a messenger, or a familiar face. You were dying for it to be the latter.

[unsaved number] car, four o clock

You desperately looked around, rushing down the stairs with little care to watch your step. You almost slipped your foot on one step, but got to the sidewalk safely, opening the door to a black sedan with its blinkers on.

“Do you fucking care about your safety?” Seungcheol spat once you slid on the passenger’s seat. “You almost got yourself killed!”

“Good morning to you too, Seungcheol.”

The man’s nostrils flared. “I mean what am I supposed to do if you fucking snap your neck in the middle of the street?”

“I don’t know. What would gangster Seungcheol do, call one-one-two?” you mused, biting your lower lip to mask your smile.

He rolled his eyes, blinking rapidly. “Fucking put your seatbelt on,” he hissed, moving his hand to the gear stick, shifting it before the car started moving. “One-one-two, tch.”

You smiled quietly, crossing the belt over your chest, clicking it softly once you secured it. “Are you taking me to Jeonghan?” you asked promptly.

This had been your modus operandi for the past few months. You would stay home, watch your fiancé’s every move, sleuthing on his business as much as you could. Then you would get a text message every two weeks or so, sometimes to check in on you, sometimes to take you in.

The times you were taken in were the best.

“Yeah,” Seungcheol said with ease. In all this time, you had earned his trust with little to no effort since all you had to do was follow the plan and be honest.

“To his home?” you asked once you realized you were heading north.

“He’s not in the city. He’s taking a few days off to recover from a burnout,” Seungcheol explained.

Your heart dropped upon hearing that, you turned to see Seungcheol’s face, but all you got from his side profile was seriousness. So you turned to the window again, not letting him get a glance of the worry masking your features.

The ride was silent. However it was the kind of silence you welcomed, it made you feel safe and not like something was about to go off.

Jeonghan lived in a quiet, but rich neighborhood. His house was secluded, sitting atop of a hill, and surrounded by trees. It felt like visiting an island, whenever you came here. You were always driven, dropped off, and then collected.

Your visits were scarce, you could count them with your fingers on one hand. And each time you visited was just for business. Never quite as an invitation.

You closed the door, waving off at Seungcheol who only nodded his head at you, driving off on the snow-covered concrete in his expensive car.

To get to the front door, you had to follow a path surrounded by nature, trees, and grass. Boots crunching on snow as you went down to stand in front of a door to an eerily quiet house, where the were lights off.

You knocked your fist in a familiar rat-a-tat and waited.

Jeonghan came to the door, yanking it open and stepping aside to let you in, locking the door as you sheltered yourself from the cold wind.

“Hey,” you mumbled demurely, avoiding his gaze as you covered your face with your hands, trying to warm them up.

“Cold?” he asked, he almost sounded like he was smiling.

“Yeah,” you replied, sucking in a breath.

“Let’s go to the living room, warm you up.”

Your tummy tightened nervously. “Alright,” you sighed, following him in his spacious home.

Jeonghan had an expensive taste. Not only from the clothes he wore or the car he drove. His house was huge, way bigger for just one person to live in it. It almost felt like he did not even live there. The place was tidied, there were no family pictures, no memorabilia, no signs that someone even liked living there.

“Take a seat,” he muttered softly, pointing to the long black velvet couch in front of the warm faux fireplace.

You did as he asked, feeling much better once you got closer to the heat coming the heater. The flatscreen played soft jazz music, and the lamps in the corners of the living room were on, providing a cozy warm light to the space.

“How have you been?” you asked, searching his face.

“I’ve been better,” Jeonghan said, reclining on the sofa across from you. There was a blanket thrown to one side, and you suspected he had been sleeping there before you knocked on his door.

Jeonghan looked tired, his face colorless even under the warm yellow tone coming from the lamps. He avoided your eyes too, maybe because he did not want to face your scrutiny.

“Why did you call for me?”

His dreamy eyes found you.

“I’ve given you all the information I’ve gathered so far,” you elaborated. “And Hyunjun’s left for the rest of the week, so I don’t know what else I am useful for.

“I don’t want to talk about work tonight,” he muttered, blinking away from your gaze.

“Jeonghan,” you started, moving from the couch to sit beside him. “You said you would tell me everything.”

Jeonghan frowned, this time he did not avoid your eyes as you read his face. “I did not want you to spend Christmas Eve on your own.”

Christmas Eve. The concept seemed so foreign to you because it had been so long since you practiced anything festive during that night. You had even forgotten about it completely.

Jeonghan knew your fiancé was away since you had informed him of everything almost every day. From his deals with the cops of the city to his trips with his affairs.

“Thank you,” you whispered, swallowing a lump of heavy emotions down your throat.

“No, thank you for coming,” he replied. “I might not be a light company to keep around, but I knew you’d be lonely tonight, and I am too, so,” he shrugged, rising from the couch with a small grunt.

“I like your company very much,” you whispered, sheepishly looking away before you could see his reaction.

Your relationship with Jeonghan so far has been strictly limited to talking about business. He was a man who went straight to the point, with no detours, no tangents. And you liked that.

But sometimes, he gave you mixed signals, such as inviting you to his house on Christmas Eve.

The silence dragged on. You looked at him again, thinking that you might have overstepped with your statement.

But Jeonghan looked pleased. He was lying on his side on the long velvety couch, supporting half of his body on his elbow, stroking a cushion with his lithe fingers. In his eyes, you saw something akin to victory. As if he were resolute after hearing your meek confession.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, pushing his body from the couch, and rising to his feet.

Instead of walking towards the kitchen, the man turned to the couch where you were sitting, pacing until he stood in front of you.

He stretched out his hand to grab your chin, gently pinching your skin with two fingers. “Mn? There’s food ready in the kitchen.”

“Yeah, okay,” you replied when you found your mouth to speak, standing up only after he motioned you out of the living room.

The kitchen was spacious, well well-lit. The countertops were grey, and the cupboards white. There was a glass table, adorned with candles, different plates full of food to the brim.

“Tsk, I told her not to do this,” he muttered under his breath when he saw the candles in the middle of the table and a small vase with flowers in it.

“Did you have someone help you?” you prompted, looking at the man lower his gaze in utter shyness.

“Saori, my housekeeper. She helps me with the more…. Challenging stuff around the house,” he muttered, pouting softly as he looked at the table. “I asked her to make a simple dinner for two people…”

“Everything looks delicious,” you noted, and you did not realize just how hungry you were until you got the smell of beef, and rice, and then looked at all of the side dishes, elegantly plated around the candles.

“Please,” he reacted at once, pulling out a chair for you.

“Thanks,” you whispered, sitting down, and looking around, expecting him to sit on the opposite side of you.

But he chose to sit on the chair next to yours, still avoiding your gaze as he egged you to start eating.

“So,” you prompted. “The more challenging stuff?” you arched an eyebrow.

Jeonghan showed you a shy smile, but one that took over his face, making his eyes turn into half-moons. “I suppose you don’t expect me to know how to cook, but I do,” he raised his palms at you. “Granted, I’m not the best cook, but I don’t have time to do it. Saori helps me with that.”

You munched on your food as you looked at him explaining. “Well, you’re lucky because Saori is a great cook,” you nodded. “This is delicious.”

“Oh, is that the galbi?” his mouth parted as he took a look at your plate. “Yeah, she’s exceptional. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

But your heart deflated a little bit. “Do you live alone?” you dared to ask.

“Yes,” he replied without much care. “I don’t mind it. I go to the city a lot, so I don’t spend a lot of time here as much as I would want to.”

You held your questions for the rest of the dinner, only replying to those he made at you or commenting on the food. It felt strange to share a moment like this with Jeonghan, not uncomfortable, just out of the ordinary.

After you and him were done with the food, he propped his elbows on the table, lacing his fingers together before placing his chin on them. “You look satisfied,” he murmured.

His sweet eyes were lively. Happier than you had ever seen him, even though there was still a note of exhaustion on his features. Under the candlelight, Jeonghan looked gorgeous. Heavenly, his sweet brown eyes outlining your face, his short dark hair tussled but somehow fell perfectly in place, his shiny creamy skin.

“I am,” you nodded. “Thank you.”

He remained silent, looking at you for a moment before reclining back on his seat. “Any news from your sister?” he asked with caution lacing his tone.

Your tummy clenched in anxiousness. “I thought you didn’t want to talk about work.”

“This isn’t work,” he arched an eyebrow. “This is your family.”

Jeonghan was fully aware that Kiki was only your friend. But he still referred to her as your sister every time the topic came up.

“I’ll be able to speak to her soon, Hyunjun told me so,” you stammered around the name of your fiancé. “He said she’s still in Greece.”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes, shaking his head lightly. “She’s not in Greece,” he muttered, an annoyed look twisting the features of his face.

“How do you know?” you asked. You had already formed your suspicions in your head but never went anywhere with them.

“He’s saying that to keep you in line,” he moved his hands to rest on his abdomen, nodding his head once. “The bastard probably has her somewhere in the country.”

Your heart throbbed painfully before you could even collect your words. “Do you think she’s alright?” you asked. “Do you think he’d do something to her?”

He shrugged. “Probably, though I wouldn’t think too much about that,” he said. “It won’t do you any good to think your sister is suffering. Just focus on getting her back.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” you whispered, looking at the table absentmindedly.

Jeonghan rose from the table, and you followed his tall frame with your eyes.

“Is it wise to drink while you’re recovering?” you asked, watching him approaching the bar in one corner of the kitchen.

“Want one?” he offered, lifting a bottle to his view. “This is a Japanese whisky. Very rare. And expensive.”

You could tell he was not looking to impress you, by the tone he used to describe the bottle he was tipping into a glass, you knew he meant it in an unconcerned manner. “Sure,” you mumbled.

He returned, handing you a glass, which you grabbed with two shaky hands, giving him a word of thanks. “I really feel like drinking one tonight,” he muttered, returning to his seat.

“Are you feeling better?” you asked, noticing the pink color on his lips.

“Eh, I think I’ll feel better tomorrow after this,” he said offhandedly. “I’ve always been sickly, since I was a kid even. So this is not new to me.”

“Mm,” you nodded in understanding. “Isn’t that stressful?”

Your heart dropped to your stomach upon uttering that question. You felt like you could talk to Jeonghan. Given that you had learned to trust him over the past few months. But this was different, this was personal. With any other human being, this would unfold into a light conversation.

But this was Yoon Jeonghan. Not just anyone.

“It is,” he replied, lowering his gaze, darned by his set of heavy eyelashes. “I’ve been doing this for years and one thing I have learned is that it won’t get any easier.”

“I know,” you muttered, remembering all those times you saw your father bedridden, nearing his death. Just like he was now. “How do you get by?”

“This helps,” he raised his glass, a smirk drawing on his lips. “I know that it’s bad to show weakness, so it wouldn’t be smart for me to be sick all the time. So I kept myself hidden, no one knows I’m the boss, I draw no attention from the law. Or from other gangs.”

Or your fiancé.

“So is that your code?” you asked, trying to remove yourself from that first caution you felt around him.

“Like a code of honour you mean?” Jeonghan smiled after clicking his tongue. “No. I don’t think I have one.”

You sipped the whiskey, which indeed tasted intense, sweet, and woody. “Ah, come on, you must have a code. Everyone does.”

“I really don’t,” he chuckled, pouting as he gathered his thoughts. “I just have two rules. I don’t force violence upon the innocent, and I always keep my word.”

His sweet gaze locked on yours for a second, making your tummy flutter, your heart pounding with something you had never felt before in your life. It felt like a punch in the stomach. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the serotonin from having a conversation that felt humane.

“So, like a code of honour,” you chuckled, the sound bubbling out of your mouth.

Jeonghan stilled for a second, his eyes flashing over the features of your face. “Maybe,” he conceded, uttering the word with a mere whisper.

You stared at each other for a second.

“I should go back,” you croaked, reaching for your phone, and realizing that it was already ten o’clock. “It’s late.”

“I’ll have someone pick you up,” he muttered, equally distracted. He excused himself from the table, making a phone call promptly to have someone take you back home.

So you sat there, thinking of that passing surge of emotions. You had heard stories, seen it in film, read in books. But you had never believed it, until now. 

Maybe you liked Jeonghan a little too much.

Some moments later, he returned, stopping before the end of the table, a worried look on his face.

“What?” you uttered.

“Nothing,” he gaped, seemingly lost in his thought, raising his phone to your view. “There’s a heavy snowfall happening in the city, it is not bad right now so someone could come pick you up, but it’ll get worse later on your way back.”

“Oh,” you thought of what to do, maybe you could search for somewhere to stay, maybe you could…

“I have a spare bedroom, two actually,” he shrugged. “I don’t mind having you over. Until it is safe for you to come back. Is that okay with you?”

“I don’t mean to–,”

“Please,” he said. “I insist.”

You thought of everything that Jeonghan has done for you. True, he was also doing it for your benefit, but you felt there was more to it than him just trying to keep you safe. He wanted you there. Just like you wanted to be near him.

“Okay,” you nodded.

“Good,” he nodded too.

The silence between you returned, that silence that did not feel unpleasant but felt like it was squeezing the air out of your lungs. The overwhelming feeling returned to your bones, tingling at your fingertips.

“I should probably…” you whispered, beginning to clean the table off.

“Leave that,” he sighed, coming closer to stop you. “Don’t be ridiculous, leave that.”

You grabbed the used plates, the chopsticks, placing them neatly in a pile to take them to the sink. “Just let me rinse this at least,” you muttered, trying to bite the smirk fighting to get to the features of your face.

“I said leave that,” he gritted, grabbing the plates from your hand.

Now, even if he was tall and thin, Jeonghan was not weak at all. His strength overpowered your own, laughing as he swiftly took the plates from your hands without much effort.

“Jeonghan!” you squealed when he nearly dropped one of the banchan bowls.

The sound you emitted made him chuckle even harder. “Relax, I have it under control,” he muttered turning away to put the pile into the sink.

“Sure you do,” you said under your breath, continuing to tidy the table.

“You’re stubborn,” he shook his head disapprovingly. “Come, I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping.”

You were in the middle of your task, but knowing his house was big, you had no choice but to leave the plates there. Running off to where he disappeared to, which was a long hall that had windows on one side looking to the exterior.

It was snowing heavily outside, wind slamming against the trees, the path you had walked on covered in a layer of snow already.

“I think I have some new toothbrushes, I’ll give you one,” he said, opening one of the three doors at the end of the hall and turning on the light for you.

The bedroom was simple. White walls, one twin bed, two bedside tables with lamps on them and a bathroom.

“I could maybe lend you a pair of sweats and a t-shirt for you to sleep in them, if you do that sort of thing,” he muttered beside you as you looked at the very minimalistic bed.

“That sort of thing?” you looked at him, standing beside you so closely it robbed the air out of your lungs.

“Yeah, sleeping with clothes on?” he arched one eyebrow.

“Oh,” you blinked, shamefully shaking your head. “Jeonghan!”

He chuckled again, but this time deviously. Such a tease.

“I think I’ll take the clothes, thank you,” you said, pacing to the foot of the bed, wanting to sit on the navy blue covers.

“I’ll be right back,” he pushed himself off the doorframe, opening the door in front of yours.

The room was exactly the same as the one you were staying in, the only difference was that it looked slightly more lived in. Clothes were dropped on a chair, you saw a suitcase on the floor, the lamp was turned on, a frame placed on the bedside table.

“Here,” he extended his hand out to you when he came back.

The clothes were neatly folded, a new toothbrush sitting on its package on top of the black t-shirt he was lending you.

“Thank you,” you said, sneaking a tentative look at him.

Only to find that short pang of nervousness shooting down your spine again.

“Don’t worry about it,” he retreated, taking a step back. “Have a good night.”

And then he slipped through the door of the bedroom, closing it behind him.

After brushing your teeth and washing your face, you changed your clothes into the ones Jeonghan lent you. They were soft, and recently washed. They smelled of fabric softener, and of him.

You decided to forgo your bra, slipping the cotton t-shirt over your frame. When you slid under the bedsheets, you sighed under the welcoming weight of the heavy covers, stretching your limbs on the comfy mattress to start warming up.

There was a window, covered by blackout curtains. You could hear the wind hitting against the walls, the leaves rustled under the mercy of the heavy snowfall. Closing your eyes, you wondered if Jeonghan was already asleep. You wondered if he thought of you at all.

You turned over on your side, trying your best to keep your eyes close, to shut out the world outside and sleep.

Inevitably, your thoughts wandered to that moment between you and Jeonghan. You thought how it felt to have an honest conversation with him. To laugh with him. It was so cruel to be shut out in your own little world, you could not even remember when the last time was you laughed.

If it was like this for you, you could not even dare to imagine how it must be for someone like Jeonghan. Your heart ached at the thought.

Fifteen minutes turned into half an hour, then into a full hour. You turned to your other side, stretching an arm to the empty side of the bed, the bedsheets cold against your skin. You shuddered.

You ran your tongue against your upper teeth, tasting the fresh minty toothpaste, realizing you were thirsty. You cannot just go grab a glass of water, this is not your home.

But you were so thirsty it was hard to swallow. Part of you was convinced that it was just a random, normal moment of thirst. Totally not caused by the throbbing feeling inside you, pushing you off the bed.

The floor was cold beneath your feet as you had expected, but you drew in a hiss, nonetheless. You opened the door ever so slowly, managing to keep your movements light and quiet as you exited the bedroom.

You paced through the long hall, now noticing the frames hanging on the wall. There was a watercolor painting, and a diploma hanging beside it. That was the moment you learned Jeonghan had a degree in law.

You huffed quietly, resuming your mission to get a glass of water. When you entered the kitchen, you found out that the table had been cleaned, the dishwasher humming softly as you approached the sink, grabbing a glass to pour cold water into it.

You gulped three times, refreshing your throat with a pleased sigh.

“Can’t sleep?” Jeonghan muttered.

Your whole body jolted so hard you nearly dropped the glass to the floor, gasping loudly, a hand covering your mouth. “God!” you gasped.

“Hey,” Jeonghan raised his palms at you, smiling lightly. “Sorry, but you are incredibly unaware of your surroundings.”

“What is that supposed to mean?!” you yelped, putting the glass back into the sink, annoyed that he had startled you so badly.

“You never notice when someone’s tailing you,” he shrugged, advancing towards you.

True, you never did notice all the times when he was near you, or noticing you around when you thought you were out of sight.

“Because you’re stealthy as fuck for no reason!” you exclaimed with a higher tone.

Jeonghan emitted a silly giggle, bending over a little as he looked at you joyfully. “You’re just easy to scare, sweetheart,” he leaned back against one side of the kitchen island, crossing his arms. “So?”

“I can’t sleep,” you conceded, leaning back against the counter, standing face to face with him. You sneaked a look at his eyes. “You?”

“Same,” he shrugged. “I tend to be light sleeper, anything wakes me up.”

Ah, you mouthed. Hearing the noise from the strong winds of winter slamming against the house.

“Why are you awake, though?” he asked, and you knew he was not satisfied with your earlier excuse.

“I just have a lot in my mind,” you replied with honesty. “I can’t stop thinking.”

“Well, maybe if you let those thoughts out, you might be able to sleep,” he muttered, his voice sweet and welcoming like a hug.

You wondered what his hugs felt like.

“I… don’t think I can tell you, Jeonghan,” you replied shyly, dropping your gaze to your feet.

“You don’t want to tell me or can’t tell me?” he pushed himself off the countertop, taking two steps towards you, making you drag your gaze back to his face.

Even in the dark, you could see that glint of cunning in his eyes. You sucked in a breath, pressing your back against the counter when he stood mere inches in front of you. You must be ovulating, you thought, grabbing at the rim of the counter with both hands.

Jeonghan waited, tilting his head to one side as he watched you. Starting from your face, your neck, your arms, your hands, his gaze swam all over you, absorbing you in.

Then a nimble knuckle brushed against the engagement ring that was hugging your finger. The touch did not even land on your skin, but you felt it everywhere, igniting every nerve ending.

“I think you know,” you whispered.

His lower lip pursed slightly. “I want to hear it,” he murmured, his sweet voice weakening, becoming raspy. “I need to hear you say it,” he fixed his gaze on your face again, defiantly.

“Jeonghan, why did you call for me?” you asked, every emotion you had felt before choking you out.

“Tell me first,” he shook his head lightly, propping his hands beside yours on the counter, leaning over you.

“I can’t,” you breathed, trying to move back as he drew in closer. An empty smile curving your lips. “I’m engaged to someone, Jeonghan.”

“Someone you despise,” he growled under his breath. “When was the last time you felt safe with him?”

You swallowed back your arguments. Did Jeonghan know that you had never felt safe around Hyunjun? Even when you thought you loved him, you were always walled up.

“Why did you agree to come here?”  

The question was clear, but it answered what you also needed to know. Jeonghan knew it too, the glint in his eyes told you that much.

Intrigued, he went on. “Why do you look at me like that?” he asked. “The way you talk to me, when you smile… I know you feel something,” he whispered, reading your face swiftly, over, and over. “Tell me. Tell me, please.”

You realized that he was asking you for his own good. As if he needed you to turn him down before he did something totally wrong and unwise. Or as if he needed you to tell him what he was thinking, to do it anyway.

“Jeonghan…” you muttered right before he captured your lips with his own in a ghostly kiss, you closed your eyes, a low hum bubbling in your throat.

“Stop me,” he dared. “Stop me now.”

You grabbed his face with your hands, pulling him closer. “I can’t. I don’t want to.”

Jeonghan let out a raspy groan, returning to your lips with another kiss. This time, he went deeper, kissing you chastely, heatedly, as if he could not break away from you. His hand found your hip, pressing himself to your front.

He broke away, your lips resounding with a wet smacking noise. He breathed against your mouth, swallowing your breath as you were doing to his own. It tasted sweeter than you had ever dared to imagine.

“Come to my room with me?” he breathed, pressing his forehead on yours, leaning your face so he could press a wet, slow kiss on your lips.

Damned be your hormones. Or the whisky. The snow. Damned be your fiancé. Damned be everything. You were touched starved. Lonely.

But you could not fool yourself any longer: you had never felt this way before. It was electrifying.

You vaguely remembered how you felt when Hyunjun kissed you hours before. The emptiness of his kiss, like all of the other kisses that preceded it.

Testing, you pressed your lips against his again, and he reciprocated at once. The taste of his soft lips was sweet, minty. His kiss pulled you in, like the force of two magnets, his fingers clenching your waist gently.

Kissing Jeonghan was like taking a breath after feeling suffocated for so long.

“Jeonghan,” you breathed, so close to his lips, your hands slid from his cheeks, your fingers gingerly touching his jawline. “If we do this, I don’t think I can go back to how we were… This is dangerous. For both of us.”

“Trust me, I know. Even being near you it’s signing a fucking death sentence,” he replied softly, there was no snark or venom in his words. “But I don’t know if I’ll ever have the chance to be this close to you again. I’ve wanted you for so long…”

“Wanted me?” you asked with a tiny voice.

“This is complicated, and crazy, and a bad idea. I know,” he whispered, in his eyes you saw a flash of worry. “If you don’t want this, I’ll go back to my room. I’ll never bring this up again.”

You noticed the weird, dejected way he said those last words. Your heart instantly ached, making you shake your head.

Jeonghan saw the remorse hitting you. “I need an answer, sweetheart,” he pleaded softly, as though he already knew what you were thinking, but needed you to say it aloud.

“Promise me you will take care of me?” you whispered.

“I promise.”

You were crazy, you had to be crazy. But his kiss was so alluring, his attention so tempting you could not hold yourself back. Your hand cupped his chin, and he finished leaning over to kiss you fervently, almost as if he wanted to melt into you.

Jeonghan moaned when your tongue outlined his lower lip, the quiet, guttural sound making your skin tingle. “Let’s go to my room,” he grunted in your mouth, pausing just to say that before diving into your lips again.

Your hands slid from his chin to his hard chest, feeling his heartbeat under your fingertips. You needed to hold him, to feel him.

As if he could hear your thoughts, Jeonghan grabbed your hand, the cold metal around your finger pressing on his skin as he pulled you, motioning you to his bedroom. Your pulse quickened, quickly making you feel lightheaded.

You got to his bedroom, which was nearly identical to the one he assigned you. The lamp was still on, which led you to believe that he did not even try to sleep. But you could not pay attention to the fleeting thought. 

Jeonghan pulled you closer, using his hand on yours to draw you in. His hands cupped your face, inhaling your breath as he resumed kissing you. You wrapped your arms around him, hands roving all over his back, stopping before the band of his sweats. 

“Mmf,” you let out a half moan in his lips, trying to speak up but he would not let you, kissing you ravenously, as if he could not get enough from your lips. And honestly, you would be doing the same thing, if it was not for your aching need to undress him. 

Your hands went around his waist, trailing down until your fingers found the hem of his t-shirt, tugging at it sheepishly. “Should we take this slow?” you whispered, the anxious feeling in your throat making your voice wane.

“No,” he decided at once. “We’ll have another night to take it slow. I need you right now.”

The words nearly sent you into a frenzy. You kissed him again, though briefly, your hands were finding his abdomen, feeling his skin.

“Go ahead, baby,” he whispered, so close to you that you could feel the slow smirk pulling the corners of his lips.

You hiked his t-shirt up his torso, uncovering his milky white skin to your view.

“Lie down,” he rasped, kissing you repeatedly.

You followed his command without a second thought, walking backwards until you found the bed with the back of your knees. You sat down first, backing up to the center of the bed, and he followed.

Jeonghan lied on his side, next to you, propping his body on one elbow as his other hand reached out to cup your cheek, pulling you into a wet, passionate kiss. You hummed in his mouth when his tongue rolled inside yours, your hands grabbing him, trying to pull him closer.

“What are you doing, baby?” he muttered with an amused look on his face.

You gently caressed his skin with your hands, feeling his slender collarbones under your fingertips, his chest, all the way down to his abdomen. The tip of your thumb dipped lightly into his belly button, eliciting a soft gasp from him, a smirk drawing on his face when you brushed the soft hairs of his happy trail.

“Don’t tease me,” he rasped, daring you again.

The corners of his lips tugged slightly when you curled your fingers on the waistband of his sweats, sending quick looks to your eyes and back to your hands. You bit your lower lip, grabbing the band of his boxers too, noticing the bulge under his sweats.

You got to your knees, tugging the waistband down as Jeonghan lifted his hips for you. You shuddered upon seeing his hard cock slapping his lower abdomen. You took his pants and boxers off, leaving him utterly naked on the covers of his bed.

Before you could even touch his skin, kiss him in places you so utterly wanted, his hands were pushing you back on the mattress. You complained with a loud gasp, finding a playful smirk on his face.

“Behave and I’ll give you what you want,” he muttered, placing his hands at each side of your head, leaning over to press a kiss on your lips, its sweetness betraying the firmness of his command.

A quiet moan left your mouth when he pressed another soft kiss on your lower lip. His dark gaze looking at you as he pulled away slightly, but keeping some inches from your face. “Mn? Will you be good for me, pretty?”

“Yeah. I’ll do whatever you want me to,” you replied, blushing over how turned on you sounded already.

But it made Jeonghan smile, a hand brushed your cheek endearingly, blowing you away with its gentleness. “You’re going to kill me,” he sighed, pressing his forehead to yours, stealing a chaste kiss from you, then another.

You felt the weight on pillows shift on the sides of your face, seconds later you felt Jeonghan’s hands slipping underneath your t-shirt, caressing your skin with his cold fingers. He backed away once he hooked his fingers on the band of your panties, grabbing your sweats too.

“Jeonghan,” you muttered softly.

“Shh, be patient,” he smirked, pulling back to his knees, dragging your clothes down your legs.

Your heart pounded frantically in your throat, but you kept your eyes on him, following each movement, darting looks down his beautiful naked body. He sighed under a smile, his hands caressing your thighs with a feather-light touch, gently egging you to part them for him.

“Good girl,” he muttered, leaning over you again, pushing the t-shirt up to your breasts with his hand, caressing your skin in the process. “You’re so beautiful.”

“Thank you, Hannie,” you sighed, eyelids fluttering wildly as his touch ignited you again.

Jeonghan smiled. “I like that,” he whispered, referring to the nickname you used. He leaned to press a loving kiss on your sternum, making you jolt in nervousness. “So responsive,” he hummed approvingly, darting a testing look at your eyes before pressing a kiss on the swell of your breasts, making a short trail to your nipple.

“God,” you sighed, letting your eyelids fall close. Your hand found the back of his head, fingers coiling around the strands of his black hair.

He muffled a giggle in your chest, littering it with wet, open kisses. He tasted, licked, and nibbled your skin, showering it with so much love you quickly became drunk, moaning, squirming and uttering his name.

Your skin prickled as he placed another open kiss right below your belly button, glancing at your face as he moved to push his hands on your thighs, angling you open for him.

“J-jeonghan,” you stuttered, tensing your spine as he placed a sweet kiss on your inner thigh, “God, please, Jeonghan,” you pleaded, being so long since you had been touched like this, it felt like fireworks going off inside you at each touch, each kiss…

“Patience, baby girl,” he muttered softly, nibbling your inner thigh, the enjoyment flashing on his face when a moan bubbled in your mouth.

“Please, please, please,” you whispered over and over, his reminder nearly going unnoticed by your pleas.

“Mmmn, you’re becoming bratty,” he muttered, still taking his sweet time teasing you with kisses on your inner thighs, running his tongue on your skin, eliciting a loud yelp from you.

You turned your head onto the pillow, trying to muffle your moans, snapping your eyes open when he finally pressed a kiss on your mound, then another on your clit. You shuddered in pleasure, your arousal pooling in your entrance.

“So needy,” he tutted again, and you knew by his tone that he was smiling.

You nearly choked on a gasp, hands flying to grab at the covers when he pushed his tongue between your folds, giving you a long stroke with his tongue against your cunt, drinking you in with a raspy moan on his part.

“Jeonghan,” you moaned weakly, easing your back on the mattress, closing your eyes, relishing in the sweet pleasure his mouth was giving you. “Oh, Jeonghan…”

He clutched your hips, licking every inch of your pussy lips teasingly, then his hands slid up your tummy, finding your breasts to fondle them, pushing his tongue on your clit at the same time. An airy moan spilled from your lips, trying to keep as quiet as possible as his tongue started drawing figures around your clit, getting it to swell.

You had to bite down your lip, releasing the covers from your tight grip to prop yourself to your elbows. The sight of him eating you out was so alluring you swore you could come from it alone. He raised his dark eyes, finding your face, probably seeing the awe and the pleasure written in it.

Jeonghan smiled, curving his lips slightly as his tongue worked on your clit, you moaned again, thighs tensing at his sides, bumping against the sides of his face.  

“I’m close, Hannie,” you sighed, welcoming the long forgotten tension coiling deep inside you, your chest falling and rising faster.

His hands grabbed your thighs to keep you open for him, slipping two fingers inside your throbbing walls, his tongue switching the motion of the tip of his tongue on your clit, darting from side to side on it.

“Oh, Hannie,” you moaned, writhing on the bed, feeling that tension finally snap inside you, washing over you. “I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming…” you tilted your head back, fingers tangling in his hair as you came undone with lewd moans and ragged breaths.

You stroke his hair languidly, coming down from your high as he continued eating you out, licking the arousal pooling in your core, the sensitiveness in the area making you jolt.

Jeonghan kissed your mound, pulling out his fingers out of your walls before sneaking a playful look at you. “Hey,” he mumbled, crawling to you as you lied back on the pillows.

“Hey,” you whispered, wiping your arousal from his chin with one hand.

He kissed you again. “You’re good?” he asked.

“I’m good, Jeonghan,” you giggled sweetly, surprised that he would stop mid-sex to check in on you.

“God, I love that sound,” he sighed, his fascinated gaze outlining your features.

Your heart stammered. “Yeah?” you taunted, smirking at him. “What else do you love about me?”

“Everything,” he drawled drunkenly, planting more kisses on your lips, humming when your hands roamed on his back. “Everything,” he repeated, as though he had not found a single thing about you he disliked.

“Mmn,” you hummed in his lips, tasting yourself in them.

A hand returned on your tummy, blindly finding the t-shirt and motioned you to help him take it off you. Your bodies moved in synchronicity, you sat up just as he sat back, throwing the t-shirt once he removed it, grabbing your chin with one hand to steal another kiss on your lips.

“Are you on birth control, baby?” he asked, his tone gentle, but it had a slight gruffness in it.

“No,” you muttered, your heart falling to your stomach. “Do you have condoms?”

“No,” he bit his lower lip, eyebrows pinching softly. “It’s been a while since I’ve been with someone.”

The statement was nearly hurtful for you. Jeonghan was the most alluring man you had ever met. But you knew you had to be insane when a thought flashed in your head, not caring about anything else.

“It’s okay,” you whispered, cupping his face with your hands. “Me too.”

Jeonghan did not question this, but he remained frozen, as if unsure of how to proceed. “What do you want to do?”

Your heart fluttered uneasily, looking at his features. “I want you, Jeonghan,” you whispered, your hands falling from his face but found his waist, clutching him gently. “I want to feel you. Please…”

He pushed you back onto the covers again, placing his hands on each of your sides. But you realized that he had not conceded yet, his eyes were going over your face over and over, a sign that the gears in his brain were turning.

“Are you sure?” he muttered, smiling when you nodded eagerly. “God, baby, you’re crazy.”

“You’re crazy too,” you smirked.

Jeonghan made no reply to this. His hand cupped your cheek, slotting his lips in yours to kiss you deeply, humming into your mouth as he positioned his body between your legs.

Blindly, following his lips with your seamlessly, your hand found his length, stroking him slowly, thumb brushing the beads of precum leaking from its tip. Jeonghan moaned, his hand falling beside you on the pillow for support.

You guided his cock between your legs, breath hitching nervously when the tip slid between your pussy lips, covered in your arousal. Jeonghan gasped too, breaking the kiss to look at you in the eyes.

There were no words exchanged, just looking at each other as you nudged his tip against your pooling entrance. Jeonghan pushed his cock inside you, stretching your walls slowly. His mouth parted, letting out a silent groan as you moaned lewdly, squirming beneath him.

“You’re good?” he choked out, retracting his hips one inch to push back in.

“I’m good,” you stammered, fingers trembling on his waist, trying not to sink your fingernails on his skin. It had been a while since you had some action happening in your life, and although Jeonghan was not big, his length fit inside you perfectly, his tip pressing in one particular sensitive spot.

“I’m going to start moving, baby,” he whispered, meeting his hips with your own.

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” you sighed, trying to relax under his weight.

But you were nervous. Intoxicated by the smell of his neck, skin prickling when he pressed his chest on yours, hypnotized his lips moaning your name. No one had ever made you felt like this.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing me,” he groaned, dropping his forehead on yours. “Relax, sweetheart… or this might end too soon,” he whispered in your ear.

“It feels so good,” you whimpered, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You feel so good, Hannie…”

That made him smile, sending a powerful shudder through your body. “Put your legs around me,” he gave his command gently, and you followed it.

Now you were practically clinging to him, following the gentle motions of his hips on you. You closed your eyes briefly, easing the tension between your legs when his thrusts picked up the pace, going a little faster on you.

Jeonghan grunted quietly, making you open your eyes to find his gaze.

“You’re good?” you asked meekly.

He smiled endearingly at you. “Amazing, sweetheart,” he whispered. “You feel incredible,” he told you between kisses, pressing them on your lips.

You moved one hand to cup his face, still hugging him with one arm.

His gaze shifted, your hand caressing his cheek making him close his eyes for a moment.

Then something caught your eye. The cold ring hugging your finger was also pressing to his cheek, his eyebrows drew inward slightly, gasping softly as he blinked at you. Your heart deflated, seeing his demeanor had changed in a second. You almost wanted to pause and remove your engagement ring, but you also knew that it was too late.

Even though Jeonghan knew you did not love your fiancé, you were not a free woman.

But he was claiming you as his, his hips pushed against yours harder, knocking the air from your lungs. You removed your hand from his cheek, placing it on the covers of the bed.

“Fuck,” Jeonghan gritted, squeezing his eyes shut. “Fuck, fuck!” he exclaimed, dropping his forehead on the pillow, next to your face.

His thrusts slowed down sloppily, breathing raggedly against the pillow. It took you some seconds to understand he was resisting his climax for you.

You carefully used the tips of your fingers to stroke his hair. Jeonghan was groaning languidly, moving his cock with shallow thrusts inside you.

“Promise me you won’t let him touch you,” he rasped in your ear.

Your tummy tightened anxiously. “I promise,” you replied.

As he breathed on your neck, you could get the faint smell of his neck, of his hair. You hugged him tightly against your body, welcoming his warmth, deciding that you would never want anyone else.

You must be crazy.

He raised his head to look at you, his gaze had darkened. “No one else touches you,” he breathed. “No one but me.”

“I promise,” you parroted mesmerizingly.

He leaned on you again, cupping your chin with his hand before pressing a slow, sensual kiss on your lips. “You’re mine,” he muttered drowsily.

A thrilling feeling of exhilaration swept through your body all the way to your brain. “I’m yours.”  

Then he started thrusting his hips against yours, hard and fast, as though hearing your promise sent him into a mad frenzy. You noticed him moving his mouth, babbling nonsense, and moaning out your name.

Pressing his forehead against yours, he tilted your head to meet your lips with his in a soft kiss. Moans spilled from your lips, his gaze going soft when you also mumbled out his name, daring to use your hand to cup his cheek again.

“Jeonghan,” you mewled, hugging him tighter with your legs around his waist.

“You’re close, sweetheart?” he forced out.

“Yeah,” you sighed.

“You’re gonna come for me, baby girl?” he asked, smirking softly when you nodded again frantically, thighs starting to shake around him. 

You gasped, feeling so close yet there was something going wrong in your body. Overwhelmed with pleasure, moaning every time Jeonghan’s cock reached that particular sweet spot in your walls, hitting it with each stroke of his hips against yours.

Jeonghan realized you could not reach your high when you whined, closing your eyes to focus on the tight feeling pooling inside you. A light kiss pressed to your cheek, then below your earlobe. “Come for me, sweetheart,” he whispered shakily on your ear. “I’ll give you whatever you need.”

“T-talk to me?” you asked meekly.

Jeonghan emitted a giggle that send butterflies to your stomach. “Dirty?”

“God, yes please,” you gasped, giggling upon how needy you sounded at that.

You saw the effect your giggles had on him, a soft sigh falling from his lips. “Stop wrapping your legs around me, or we might end up making a baby,” he muttered gruffly.

A strange feeling bloomed inside you, making you moan salaciously. “Fuck, Jeonghan, please,” you whined. “I’m so close.”

He pulled his body back, grabbing your hips to keep thrusting in. The position of his cock inside you changed too, now pressing on your front walls harder.

Your eyes watered, a raw moan spilling from your lips. “Oh, god,” you gritted.

“You like that?” he smirked, jackhammering into you, making the headboard of the bed slam against the wall.

“Yeah, yeah, yes,” you balled your hands into fists at the covers on your sides, back arching as you moaned.

You were so, so fucking close, you ached to come, you needed to come. Pleasure was brimming inside you, wet noises coming from your pussy each time Jeonghan hit his hips against yours.

“Don’t fucking touch yourself yet,” he rasped when he caught sight of your hand inching closer to your mound.

You dropped your hand at your side, whining reproachfully at him. “But I’m close,” you sighed, tears brimming in your eyes from the unyielding pleasure that just kept on building inside you.

“You’ll come when I want you to,” he sighed out in pleasure too, throwing his head back slightly.

Pressure coiled tighter inside you, walls throbbing around him upon hearing him speaking to you harshly.

He gasped, a single vein throbbing in his neck from the exhaustion growing in his limbs. “Your little cunt’s so tight, baby, do you even finger yourself?”

“S-sometimes,” you choked out, feeling your face burn.

“How do you do it baby?” he asked. “Like this?” he rasped, bringing the pad of his thumb to your clit, rubbing gentle circles on it.

“God, Hannie,” you gasped, pushing the back of your head onto the pillow, biting down your lip to keep any more lewd noises from spilling out again.

Jeonghan noticed this time around, smirking at you with a glint of playfulness. “Be as loud as you want, sweetheart. No one’s around,” he drawled lazily, still thrusting his cock at a delicious pace, rubbing fast swirls on your clit.  

“Oh, god,” you whispered, your legs starting to shake again. “Jeonghan, keep going, fuck, fuck. Help me come, please…”

A fascinated look flashed on his face. The speed of his thrusts slowed down a little, bending his head over you to let his spit fall on your cunt perfectly. You moaned at the sight, feeling the pad of his thumb sliding perfectly on your engorged clit, teasing it more.

He kept ramming his cock in your pussy, making the headboard slam louder against the wall, the mattress creaking beneath your bodies. You could tell Jeonghan was growing tired, but there was a glint in his eye, he wanted to push you farther, to see what would make you snap.

“Did he ever fuck you like this, baby?” he rasped, his throat bobbing as he swallowed back a moan.

“Fuck, Jeonghan,” you gritted, arching your back on the bed. Forcing out an honest no under your breath.

He leaned forward, but only slightly, resting his hands on the sides of your waist. “And he fucking won’t,” he muttered softly, taking one of your hands to kiss your palm, uncaring that you still had your ring on. “No one will. You’re mine, mine to ruin.”

You nodded obediently. A rush of exhilaration ran all over your body. “I am.”

Jeonghan looked at you in awe, pausing to grab your legs to hoist them up on his shoulders, resuming to slam his hips on yours, his cock hitting so deep inside you that you cried out, tears spilling from your eyes.

“Jeonghan¸ god, yes, yes, right there!” you squealed in pure bliss.

“That’s right baby,” he sighed under a pleased smile. “Come all over me, come on this cock.”  

“I’m coming, Jeonghan. I’m there, I’m there…” you gasped, tasting your sweet orgasm, the feeling of release overwhelming you, buzzing in your ears, making your mind go blank.

Jeonghan read your face, moaning with you as you came around him. “God, baby,” he gritted, pressing his lips against your knee. “Oh, fuck. Fuuuck…” he threw his head back, a raw moan escaping between his clenched teeth.

“Hannie…” you mewled, crying from pleasure brimming inside you, making your walls throb and clamp around him. “Jeonghan, oh my god…”

“I know, baby,” he sighed, still pushing his cock inside your throbbing walls. You smiled slightly at him, coming down from your climax, making him reach his.

With perfect timing, he pulled out of you, spilling himself on your lower tummy with soft and languid, moans. Jeonghan breathed hard, looking at the mess on your skin, spilling until the last drop.

Jeonghan wasted no time, he bent over, capturing your lips with a lewd kiss. “Let’s go clean up,” he whispered between rushed kisses, making you scrunch your nose, giggling lazily. “Then we’ll cuddle, and sleep together. How does that sound, sweetheart?”

Mind fogged, you nodded at him. “I’d like that, Jeonghan,” you whispered back.

“Good,” he gasped, taking a moment to look at your eyes before smiling. “God, you really drive me crazy.”

Once you washed up, you lied in his bed, staring at the ceiling for a while, turning over on your side as he slipped under the covers. He hummed softly, wrapping his arms around your body, snuggling up to you.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, noticing you deep in thought.

Your gaze fell on the portrait neatly placed on his bedside table. In the dark, you could see four figures posing for a family photo. Even if you could not make out the other faces, you could see his. A young brightness painted his face, his smile, the half-moon of his eyes. He was happy.

“Who are they?” you whispered.

“Who?” he muttered, intuiting what you were asking, he followed your gaze. “Ah. They’re my family.”

“Are they safe?” the question flew out of your mouth before you could even hold yourself back.

“Yeah, they are,” he whispered calmly, moving his body so he could look at you, propping his weight on his elbow. “I do everything to keep them safe. They don’t really know what I do, and haven’t seen them in years but… I send them things every now and then.”

Your heart broke. And you could not hold yourself back any longer. “I just… I just can’t stand the thought that you’re alone,” you said with a shameful look.

His gaze softened, a shy smile curving his beautiful lips, showing his perfect set of teeth. “Oh, baby. But I’m not alone,” he said, bringing a hand to pinch your chin. “You’re here.”

You grabbed his fingers pinching you softly to press your lips against his pads. “I’ll have to go back eventually.”

“For a while,” he said, his fingers started toying with yours. “We need to keep this up until we find your sister, and we have a clear target on him.”

Your heart deflated at the mention of Kiki, and the sorrow showed on your face.

“Hey,” he whispered, drawing your gaze back to his. “What’s wrong?”

You caressed his shoulder, gathering your words. “I feel so guilty that she’s being used as leverage,” you whispered, even though it was something you knew was made clear by your actions, saying it aloud felt worse.

“You can’t really change that,” he muttered. “Hyunjun saw a weak spot in you and exploited it. It’s not on you. It’s on him.”

You nibbled on your lower lip, swallowing your tears. “She’s just a kid,” you said. Jeonghan remained quiet, reading your face so you just went on: “She’s just a girl that showed me kindness when no one did. She is not even a part of this world. I let her get close to me and now I don’t even know she’s alright.”

“Why do you say she’s your sister?” he asked with caution, and you knew that he had intended to ask that question before, but refrained from doing so.

“She called me sister a lot, it was quite annoying at first,” you explained, the memory bringing a smile to your face. “Kiki lived in the same neighborhood I used to live in before I got engaged. She was lonely, her parents were either at work or out drinking. So I would keep her company, watch movies with her, talk about boys… eventually I started calling her my sister too.”

Jeonghan showed you a smile, it was sad, but at the same time sweet. “You love her.”

You sniffled quietly, nodding with your head. “I can’t lose her.”

“She’ll be fine, baby,” he whispered, bringing a hand to your cheek, caressing your skin with his thumb. “We’ll get her back. I made a promise, remember?”

You smiled weakly at him. “You did.”

And he always kept his promises. No matter the cost.

› four, double dare

After that night, everything changed.

It became increasingly difficult to go back home to your fiancé. One, because you liked him even less than you ever did. Two, because of the burden you felt from cheating on him. And three, because every second you spent away from Jeonghan was miserable to you. 

Granted, you could not remember when the last amicable time was spent with your fiancé. And the weight of infidelity you felt was because you never thought you would cross that line. Even if Hyunjun probably did not care, it felt dirty.

But everything you could think about was that night with Jeonghan. The morning after you slept together, you spent it pressed against his body, barely even stopping to have breakfast. And when it was time to get ready to go, you nearly cried from thinking that this would be a one-time thing.

“Why do you look like that?” Jeonghan had asked, using two fingers under your jaw to lift your face to his view. “What’s happening?”

“I don’t want to go,” you replied, your voice thickening.

A light frown showed on his face. “It’s temporary, baby,” he muttered, gently cupping your face. “When this is all over, you won’t have to leave, you can stay here.”

“Really?” you whispered.

“Did you think that I’d let you go that easily?” he asked with a soft tone. “Sweetheart, how do I make you believe that I want you?”

It was an understatement to say it was hard for you to even concentrate. Your every thought was riddled with memories of him, fantasies of you kissing him again.

You had stopped blaming that first kiss with Jeonghan on your vulnerability. It became clear to you that you had wanted to kiss him way before he even made an advance to you.

Every time your phone buzzed, your heart gave a leap, thinking it was some development, some notice that you would see Jeonghan soon. But days went by, and you did not even get so much as a text message.

Being an informant also meant that you had very little contact with Jeonghan. Assuming that you had to keep your role, you waited. And continued playing the fool.

Hyunjun suspected nothing about your affair, or about you being an informant. Though he was still weary of you and still felt like you wanted to call off the engagement, he never brought the topic to the table.

So you carried on with the plan. You gathered whatever information you could get, played dumb, and got back to Jeonghan.

Sometimes, you would have the opportunity to stay with him, sometimes you would have to settle for some hours. Either way, Jeonghan and you would get the most out of the time you had. You could not get enough of him, and he could not get enough of you.

Weeks turned into months, and soon you entered spring. And even though some time had passed, your affair with Jeonghan was still exciting. And dangerous.

You were sitting on the sofa, reading a book, a finger toying with the corner of the page you were pretending to read.

Hyunjun was handling some business on the phone on the other side of the living room, aloof to your scrutiny. Each sentence he spoke was direct and brief, but as you put them all together, you could tell that Jeonghan’s last move had rattled some of his plans. And stolen a lot of money’s worth of shipment.

Hyunjun was almost cornered. But in that, it also meant that your father’s empire was crumbling too. All your fiancé did was handle your father’s money, and his clients, it was your father’s network, his money, his men.

And by being the sole child, everything was yours by right.

You sighed in faux boredom, looking at your book. Hyunjun shot you a look that you were already expecting and ended his call, pocketing his phone.

“Honey,” he called flatly, making you draw your gaze at him.

“Yes?” you replied sweetly, your tummy tightening upon the action.

Hyunjun walked towards you in the living room, taking the book from your hands once he was standing in front of you. He crouched, so he could look eye to eye with you.

“I was thinking… I don’t want to wait any longer… we should get married,” he said, blinking twice before the corners of his lips pulled in a smile.

Several seconds went on. The wind had been knocked out of you, which served as a good reaction that passed for genuine shock. You opened your mouth, heart palpitating in your throat before you made your choice.

“Oh my god!” you squealed, trying to sound as excited as humanly possible. But everything inside you roared in rage. “Yes, oh my god, yes!”

You knew this day would come.

“Next week?” he muttered, his eyes shining with something you could not quite place. It was not love, it was not sweetness.

It was a man who had finally caught his prey.

“Of course!” your limbs reacted too, managing to wrap his shoulders in a hug, instead of kissing him. Once hiding on his shoulder, your worries came in, shaking in fear and worry. “I waited so long for this…”

When his hands touched your back, it took everything in you not to recoil instantly. “Me too, honey, me too…”

“You should do it,” Jeonghan stated coldly, crossing his arms over his chest, looking fixedly at the table he was standing by.

Your heart fell to your tummy. “But I just told you I don’t want to,” you muttered.

“It’s the smart thing to do,” he said, sighing heavily as he placed both hands on the table, leaning over it and crossing one foot. “Did you agree to do it next week?”

You bit your lower lip, dropping your gaze to the concrete floor before nodding your head silently.

Jeonghan had many hide-outs spread all around the country. The hideout you were in now was a hangar. It was private and had been given an abandoned appearance deliberately. It had everything you would expect to see in a hangar, cargo equipment, old aircraft parts, heavy tooling, and a nice little plane parked off to the side.

The only sources of light were a pair of industrial lights by the table. And some lanterns were placed by the large doors to the hangar, where you could see Wonwoo’s shadow pacing back and forth before the entrance.

You were not alone with Jeonghan. Seungcheol was also pacing in circles, but he was doing so behind Jeonghan, who was still fixating on some floor plans laid on the table.

“We need to act,” Seungcheol gritted, coming to Jeonghan’s side. “We have less than a week to attack then.”

Jeonghan shook his head. “It’s too soon,” he sent you a look that drained all blood from your face. “He knows.”

“He knows what?” Seungcheol spat. “If he knew, then we would be aware,” then he looked at you. “Hyunjun doesn’t know about you informing us, right?”

“I’m not talking about that,” Jeonghan muttered, crestfallen.

“Jeonghan, I don’t think he knows,” you said, but the man was not hearing, he was falling into a self-induced paranoia. 

“He knows about us,” he said and even though the statement was something you were dreading to hear, he spoke it softly.

You went around the large table, standing at his side. “I’d be locked up if he did,” you stammered, trying to draw his gaze back to you. “Think about it, Jeonghan, he is asking me to marry him. He’s playing a game.”

That made him lift his head, his eyes finding yours. “What game do you think he’s playing?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “But my guess is that he’s after whatever position of power my family will give him. He’s after my dad’s name.”

“Makes sense,” he said but he was not thoroughly convinced. “Do you think he’s planning on getting rid of him?”

“The man can barely talk but Hyunjun still obeys him,” you mumbled, looking at him for any signs that he was coming back from his panic attack.

“Okay, we can work with that,” Seungcheol sighed, placing his hands on the table as well.

Jeonghan seemed to be snapping out of it, his eyes reading your face over and over. “Marry him,” he blurted.

“What?!” you exclaimed. 

“What?” Seungcheol questioned, huffing when neither Jeonghan nor you said anything, just stared at each other.

“Go on with the wedding,” he said dejectedly, standing up straight, as he would treat regular business. “That way we’ll know when and where he will be, surrounded by all his men. We’ll have the bastard cornered. We could even wait until the guests leave, then we got him.”

“You’re seriously not using me as bait,” you gritted, tears stinging in your eyes from the rage that quickly started building up.

Seungcheol looked astounded too, as though he also had not expected Jeonghan to say this, to form this kind of plan. “Fuck, this is insane,” he breathed, standing back from the table, running a hand through his hair exasperatedly.

“Do you think I’d let you in on this plan if I didn’t know you’d be safe?” he asked in a dangerously low tone. “Do you seriously think I’d be stupid enough to put you in danger?”

“What about the part I marry that fucking lunatic?” you raised your voice, stepping closer to him, making him take a step back from the table. “Did you think about that?”

Seungcheol went completely still, looking at your exchange with Jeonghan. You were sure that Wonwoo and Mingyu had stopped their patrolling to hear from afar. In the very tight-knit circle that Jeonghan had crafted, you were the only one that dared speak to Jeonghan like that, not because they feared him, no.

They simply held him in too much esteem to even talk to him in a condescending way.

“Do you think I fucking want this?” he gritted back darkly.

“Well, yeah! I don’t see you having a hard time telling me to marry him!” you shouted back, limbs trembling in rage and despair.

Jeonghan ran a hand all over his face, muffling a short sigh. “You can’t ask me to have him killed if you’re not willing to do something to–,”

“I go back to him every fucking night, Jeonghan!” your voice was becoming raw from raising it. “I sleep in his bed, I pretend I like him! I can’t be his wife!”

“It’ll be for five fucking minutes!” he said, not quite screaming but his voice was harsh. Harsher than you had ever heard him speak.

“I don’t want to marry him!” you said exasperatedly, throwing your hands at your sides.

“I need him distracted, vulnerable. I need him surrounded by all of his men and far away from the docks. I need everyone in that wedding to believe that you were on his side,” his eyes shone with a madness that if you had been smarter you would have avoided.

“I can’t do it,” you said in a mere whisper. “Please, don’t make me do it.”

“Fuck,” he gritted, scrunching his face in annoyance, he turned away from you, cradling the back of his head with his hands. “Fuck!”

Seungcheol sighed heavily, but in his face there was something written that clearly said, I don’t have anything to do with this. He turned away, raising his hands as he excused himself from the conversation between you and Jeonghan and walked off to the entrance, where the other two men were still snooping. 

Jeonghan turned back to you, still pissed off by the darkness in his eyes, his brow deeply furrowed. Every step he took toward you brought a dull heaviness that made you swallow hard.

“Go on with the wedding, we’ll stop it before it’s over,” he said, tightening his jaws, delivering the next words in that same dejected manner: “You won’t be his wife.”

You could feel the loud thumping of your heart dying down little by little, but your breathing remained erratic, looking at him in utter disbelief. “You bastard,” you hissed, pointing at his face with one finger. “You would have me married to him!”

“He’ll die that night,” he put in simply, clearly not understanding what your complaint was.

“You–,” you gritted, smacking your hands on his chest in a fit of rage. “You’re just like him! You’re all the fucking same!”

“Stop, stop it!” he hissed, grabbing you by the wrists, stopping your feeble attack at once, and pulling you into his chest. “We need to play into his game, like it or now. What if he really suspects about us? What if he already knows that it’s me you’re having an affair with?”

“What if he doesn’t?” you asked, your tone dropping to a mere whisper. “What if this is just him trying to exert power over me? To own me more than he already does?”

Jeonghan went rigid, gritting his teeth as he let out a breath through his nose to calm himself. “He doesn’t own you.”

“He does, Jeonghan,” you argued. “My name is the last thing he’ll have. I won’t allow it.”

At that, he freed his grip on your wrists, but he did not step back. “Fine,” he breathed, clearing his throat once. “I won’t let it happen.”

“I’ll play along during the ceremony, but I won’t say yes,” you conditioned, feeling more at ease once he conceded to you. 

Jeonghan closed his eyes briefly, his eyelids fluttering as he released a sigh of resignation. “You know I don’t want you to do this,” he muttered reluctantly. “You know I’d fucking kill him tonight if there wasn’t so much to lose.”

“Don’t expect me to agree to do things I don’t want,” you replied, the weight of your reaction finally falling on your shoulders.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve–I don’t know what I was thinking, I’m just–, I can’t stop thinking that he knows,” he stammered, blinking utter obfuscation.

“I know,” you whispered.

“I just want to get this over with,” he muttered tiredly, much as if it had drained him to argue with you. And you knew that it was likely, as your body came down from the stress of fighting with him, your limbs grew heavy.

“Trust me, me too,” you dared lifting a hand and cupping the side of his neck. “Listen, when this is all over, we could go somewhere for a while, to forget about this, yeah?”

Jeonghan smiled lazily at you. “You’re not mad at me anymore?” he quipped mischievously.

“Oh, you’re not off the hook yet,” you pointed, giggling shamefully. “I’m still mad, but I will let it slide for now.”

“Mmn,” he hummed pensively, cupping the back of your head, fingers tangling with your hair as he pulled you into a feather-light kiss. “We could go to London,” he muttered. “Or Barcelona.”

“I’d like that,” you whispered into his lips.

“You could take your anger out on me then,” he mumbled, giving you quick heated kisses.

“What about you?” you asked with a low hum as his hand clutched at your waist. “Are you still mad at me?”

“Absolutely,” he said under his breath, even though the sound came ragged, you could feel the smirk spreading on his lips slowly. “Raising your voice at me, hitting me, saying I’m the same as him… You’re in big trouble.”

“Am I?” you challenged, enjoying that glint in his eyes when you pulled back. “You know I didn’t mean that last part,” you said sheepishly. “I was just mad.”

“I like it when you’re mad,” he grunted, his arm sliding on the small of your back to pull you in closer to his body. “I’m afraid I like it a little too much.”

“Seriously?” you giggled, shaking your head at him. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you like getting on my nerves,” he muttered, kissing you so obsessively that you hummed, trying to pull away from his continuous kisses.

“Jeonghan,” you mumbled, muffling out a short gasp when he started kissing you deeper.

“What?” he replied aloofly.

“There are people in here,” you gasped, pushing a hand on his chest, breaking away from his lips with great reluctance.

“I really don’t care. Do you?” he challenged, grabbing your face with one hand, and squeezing your cheeks a little.

“Jeonghan!” you squealed, giggling in his mouth as his hands slipped on your waist pushing you against the side of the table, your lower back firmly pressed against it.

“What?” he spat now, but you knew he was just challenging you with his tone, his dark eyes piercing your face.

“They’re watching,” you whispered, motioning to the men standing by the entrance to the hangar.

“And?”

At that, you knew you had nothing to say. In the short time you had come to know Jeonghan, you knew he did not give a flying fuck about what people said about him. And he knew that no one would even bat an eye if he decided to take you right there on the table. It was nothing foreign to him, or you now that you were his.

“Do you mind that they’re watching baby?” he asked softly, his hand sliding from your lower back to your waist, squeezing you gently. “You did not have anything to say when we did this back at the workshop…”

You giggled in his mouth when he pressed a chaste kiss on yours.

“Or at the old factory…” he husked, pressing a wet kiss on the underside of your jaw. “Or in the garage…”

And he could go on and on.

You closed your eyes, tilting your head to one side so he could continue marking your neck with his kisses.

“I hate fighting with you,” he confessed, his voice low in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “You know that. But you love arguing with me.”

“I don’t,” you breathed, excitement building up in the pit of your stomach, making your fingers tremble in nervousness.

“Don’t lie. You love to rattle me, I think you like to see me mad,” he said, cupping your cheek with one hand to command your gaze to his.

Jeonghan was a different person whenever he got mad. Whenever he was working, he was cold and calculated. Whenever he was with you, he was sweet and caring. But sometimes, you did not know what to expect.

But the truth was, you also liked it when he was mad. Only after the conflict dies down or is resolved, is when you think of how strangely alluring he is whenever he is angry at something.

And Jeonghan knew. 

“Only sometimes,” you replied, flustered by his kisses.

“Mmn, yeah I know,” he said, pressing more kisses on your neck again.

Jeonghan tugged at the hem of the neck of your blouse to uncover more of your skin. He leaned down to kiss your collarbones, humming delightfully when in the process he got the smell of your perfume.

“Jeonghan,” you sighed, closing your eyes when his hands came to cup your breasts, enjoying that your bralette allowed him to feel your nipples over the fabric.

“What?” he answered, lifting his head to be eye to eye with you.

You gaped at him for a second, burning under your skin. “Are you going to punish me?”

“Mmm, maybe,” he taunted, a wolfish grin slowly tugging his lips. “Do you want it, baby?” he asked, his tone dropping to a sweeter one.

You bit your lip, nodding your head dumbly.

An airy giggle was muffled in your mouth as he leaned to kiss you, moving down to your ear. “You’re such a needy girl,” he rasped, against your skin, making it prickle. “Open your mouth.”

He cupped your jaw in his palm, his fingers digging into your cheeks as he leaned closer to spit on your open mouth. His warm spit landed perfectly on your tongue, nearly making you swallow as an instinct.

Blushing, you looked at him with your mouth hanging open, waiting for his command. He released your jaw, but you did not dare to close your mouth. Jeonghan smiled at this, knowing that you would wait until he permitted you to do so.

“Close it,” he said, and you did what he asked, but did not swallow. His eyes shone with fascination, looking at you before he decided to let you swallow his spit. “Swallow, baby.”

When you did, he gave you a rewarding kiss, but you knew that the punishment had just begun. “Tell me what you did wrong.”

“I talked down to you,” you replied, squirming slightly when his hands grabbed you by the waist.

“What else?”

“I yelled at you,” you added airily. His hands went down to your hips, going underneath your skirt to feel your thighs, cupping your ass over your tights with a low grunt from him.

“There’s more.”  

You hummed shortly, cupping his nape with one hand, the other clinging onto his shoulder as he groped your ass, kissing your neck. “I hit you. I cursed at you,” you mumbled, feeling hot in the face when you heard hushed voices in the distance.

“There’s one more,” he husked, ignoring that you were both being on open sight.

“I compared you to him,” you stammered. “I said you were just like him…”

“Am I?” he asked, grabbing your hips to turn you around.

“No,” you said, leaning over the table as his hand pressed on your back, the other hiking your skirt up. You crossed your arms beneath your head, hiding your face away from the men that clearly saw Jeonghan bending you over the table.

“I didn’t hear that,” he muttered gruffly.

“You’re not like him,” you said louder, gasping pathetically when you felt his fingers pinching the flimsy material of your tights, ripping a hole into them easily. “I said it to spite you.”

The slap resounded all around you, followed by your yelp. Jeonghan caressed your ass where he just had delivered a firm spank. You muffled a moan when he gave you a second spank, making you ball your hands into fists.

Jeonghan enjoyed this. He liked to take you whenever and wherever he pleased, he did not care if there was someone around, as long as you were in on it too. He liked to see how far you could go with him, and so far, you had never said no.

You enjoyed this just as much as he did.

“Do you like that, sweetheart?” he asked gruffly, giving you another spank that sounded even louder than the other two, this one hurt so bad it had tears brimming in your eyes.

But you just burned for more. “Yes,” you mumbled lewdly. Your skin was hot, tingling, and sore. You felt your arousal starting to pool in your panties.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir,” you replied.

“Good girl,” he sighed, bringing his hand down on your ass again.

“God,” you coiled your fingers tighter, moaning when his hand caressed your sore area.

“What do you want, baby?” he asked with a lazy tone, caressing your skin lovingly with one hand, while the other kept your skirt up.

“I need you,” you drawled at once, your cheeks radiating with embarrassment that you did not even want to be worked up. “Don’t play with me... please, sir.”

Jeonghan laughed, making you bite the inside of your cheek and close your eyes. “I’m just getting started,” he sighed, tearing the hole in your tights further. “Want my cock already?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, covering your face with your forearms. “Want it so bad… ngh–,”

His fingers prodded in the middle part of your panties. A flashing thought told you that he might just rip them in two, but instead, he gently moved them aside, using two fingertips to rub your entrance.

“Mmn, baby this got you so wet,” he sighed, pushing his fingers inside you, eliciting a raw moan out of you, so loud that you were sure now that everyone was fully aware of what Jeonghan was doing to you if they were not before.

“Please…” you drawled, squishing your cheek on the table closing your eyes to focus on his long fingers massaging your walls. “I need your cock so bad. Please, sir.”

“Mmn,” he hummed, causing wet sounds to come from the thrusts of his fingers inside you.

Your face was blazing hot, to the point you felt the tips of your ears pulsating with warmth too. “Please, Jeonghan… I’ll be good, please. I won’t talk to you like that again.”

“Why should I believe you this time, baby?” he asked with a soft tone. “I remember punishing you for that exact thing last time.”

“I’ll let you… I’ll let you breed me.”

His fingers stilled inside you, and you heard a soft sigh that made you think that he was smiling. “Fuck… fuck, baby,” he let out a raspy chuckle.

You turned your head over your shoulder, sending him a meek look as he undid the button of his jeans with one hand, while he pulled his fingers out of you, taking them onto his mouth to lick your arousal off.

In quick succession, he moved the zipper of his pants down, pulling his cock out. A shudder flashed all over your body when you noticed the precum smeared on his reddened cockhead, he was fully hard for you.

“You’re not winning this time,” he rasped, placing a hand on the small of your back before he began pushing his cock inside you.

Your jaw went slack, a raw moan spilling from deep within you as his cock stretched your walls open. “Fuck, Jeonghan,” you mewled lewdly.

He sheathed himself inside you with a guttural moan, your walls throbbing around him as he pulled back slightly, and pushed in, thrusting shallowly inside you. “So fucking tight,” he sighed blissfully, closing his eyes.

“Jeonghan!” you urged lewdly, trying to get him to understand that you needed him to fuck you harder, faster.

“Shut up,” he snarled. “You don’t get to make demands,” he said, pleased that he was in control, making you utterly his.

You gasped, pushing yourself with your hands on the table to try and meet his hips with your own.

But Jeonghan stopped your plan at once, bringing his hand on your ass with a harsh spank. “Stop that,” he ordered. “Be a good slut for me and behave,” he said darkly.

“Please,” you sighed, pressing your forehead on the table. “Faster…”

“You’ll take what I give you,” he said, pushing his hips against slowly, his hips meeting your ass passionately as if he wanted to explore your walls with his cock inch by inch.

You imagined what the other guys in the hangar would think of this. Were they watching? Would they get turned on? You sneaked a look at the three figures standing by the entrance. They were pretending to be busy with something else, chatting with each other.

Jeonghan noticed where your gaze wandered to. A hand wrapped around your throat, pulling you in, so you were now standing up, back arched for his powerful thrusts. You whimpered at the change, feeling his cock hit a glorious spot inside you and kept ramming in on you.

“Jeonghan,” you choked out, barely even making out his name.

“Do you like that they’re watching you?” he asked, nudging the tip of his nose below your earlobe. “Eh? Do you like that they can hear how fucking wet your pussy is?”

You let out a shaky moan, grabbing his hand that was circling your neck, keeping you up as he delivered more powerful thrusts inside you. Feeling him raw, hard, and ramming fast inside you made you so horny you felt like crying. You wanted him so bad, and the mere thought that he had no intentions of stopping, or to come on your skin made you irrational, animalistic.

“Yeah,” you mewled, holding onto the table with your other hand.

The hard and fast manner in which he plowed on you was making your body bump into the table in front of you, making it squeak.

Seungcheol raised his gaze swiftly at you and quickly drew it elsewhere, the unwilled act of making eye contact with him drove you to moan louder, your pussy walls clamping down on him.

“Fuck, baby,” Jeonghan sighed blissfully in your ear. “Such a needy slut for me, so good.”

You nodded your head dumbly.

“You’re mine,” he growled, pushing his hips sloppily against your ass, the sound of his skin slapping against yours resounding across the place. “I’m gonna knock you up. Make you mine forever.”

“God, yes, yes, Jeonghan,” you gasped, arching your back more for his thrusts.

“I’m gonna put a baby in you… gonna be so round and pretty with our baby,” he said, his voice waning under so much pleasure and that mad frenzy he got into whenever he even thought about knocking you up.

“Please, please, please, ah—gah!” you moaned loudly, now drawing Mingyu’s gaze your way, then making him lower his face in utter shame.

“Keep watching them,” he ordered in your ear, thrusting hard and fast, and you knew it was only a matter of time before he made you his forever… before he would spill his seed inside you. “I want them to see how good you are for me.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” you said languidly, looking at the men pretending to pace from one side to another on their perimeter patrol. Wonwoo was the only one that had not looked your way, but you were completely sure that he was aware that you were being fucked by Jeonghan.

“Good girl,” he sighed, releasing his grip on your neck to slip it underneath your bralette to cup your tits with a raw moan. “That’s what you are, a good fucking girl for me.”

You grew more and more embarrassed, but you could not stop watching them, fishing for more reactions. None of them dared to look at you again, but from the looks they exchanged with each other, you could tell that your loud noises had rattled them.

“Jeonghan…” you called breathily.

“Sshhh,” he placed a sweet kiss under your earlobe, his hand slipping down to your tummy. “I’m gonna come, and you’re going to take it all. I’m gonna make you a mommy.”

“Please, I wanna come too,” you said, turning your head so you could see his face. “Please?”

Jeonghan showed you a light smirk, he looked tired and overwhelmed with pleasure. “That’s too bad, sweetheart. You’re not coming tonight.”

“Bu-but Jeonghan–,”

“Sssh,” he brought a hand to your cheek, giving you a chaste kiss, gasping softly before placing his forehead on your shoulder. “I’m coming—, god, baby, fuck. Fuuuck.”

“Hannie,” you uttered your last plea, but you knew it was too late.

“You’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine…” he gasped, over and over, as he pressed his hand flatly on your tummy, pushing his hips languidly against your ass, spilling ropes of cum inside you.

You knew by the amount of sloppy thrusts he gave you that he came a lot inside you. You moaned at the thought of him coming inside you, painting your walls with his cum, repeating obsessively that you were his, no one else’s.

Jeonghan breathed raggedly on your shoulder, keeping his hand on your tummy for long enough until he started rubbing small circles with the pad of his thumb. He slowly raised his head, placing a small kiss on your shoulder over your clothes, then on your bare neck, then on your cheek.

“My pretty girl, you drive me insane,” he rasped, sighing a giggle.

“I’m sorry,” you drawled lazily, turning again so you could see his beautiful eyes.

“No, you’re not,” he cooed at you, his smile growing wider. “I know you. I know you’re not sorry.”

You giggled with him, instantly being swarmed by a fluttering feeling deep within your gut.

Jeonghan stilled, his smile starting to disappear little by little. The corner of his mouth twitched, and his eyes roamed all over your features. He pulled out of you then, his fingers swiftly placing your panties back in place to keep his cum from spilling out down your legs.

“I’ll take you home,” he decided coldly, tucking himself back into his pants at once.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you muttered, confused by his sudden change, by the dejectedness in which he had started to handle himself.

“No, no arguing with me on this one,” he said with a finality in his demeanor that made you know he was not going to take more of your retorts.

“Fine,” you huffed, fixing your clothes with a pout on your face.

“What?” he arched one eyebrow.

“You could’ve at least let me come.”

Jeonghan’s face broke into a smile, tipping his head back to laugh out loud. “You asked me to punish you,” he shrugged.

You climbed onto the passenger seat of Jeonghan’s big SUV with a sigh, fixing the folds of your pretty skirt.

“Hey,” Jeonghan held your door open with one hand, stopping you from closing it. “Baby, look at me,” he said.

Your tummy fluttered upon hearing the sweet tone he used with you. “Yes?”

Jeonghan leaned inside the car and over you, sneaking two fingers beneath your jaw. “You know I would never put you in harm’s way, right?” he asked, and you could see on his face how much that question had messed him up. He drew his eyebrows in, and you saw a glint in his eyes you had never seen on him.

“Yeah,” you said, lifting a hand to his cheek, feeling sick for making him think that he was the same as your fiancé. “I know, babe.”

Jeonghan pressed his forehead against yours, nudging the tip of your nose with his own. “We’re almost there, sweetheart. We are so close to ending all of this,” he muttered. “Then it’ll be just you and me…”

“I know. And I know this stresses you out. But please, try to be more considerate,” you replied with a small smile that he felt as he pressed his lips against yours.

He giggled softly. “Alright,” he conceded with a raspy voice, pressing more kisses on your lips. “I’ll be more considerate. Just because my favorite girl asks.”

“Ah, favorite girl?” you backed off a little to show him an impish smile. “Does that mean you have other girls?”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes, but you could tell he was amused. “Yes. Many.”

“Mm, I’m falling behind. I should get other boys, then,” you giggled.

“Shut up,” he sighed, bringing you to his face to kiss you more. “So annoying.”

 You let out a louder cackle, making his eyes shine with that fascination he never failed to show whenever you laughed with him.

Jeonghan went still ever so softly in front of you. He was a man who was completely enamored with his job You knew that his yearning for crime was greater than anything else in his life.

But at that moment, you felt how deeply he felt about you. The way he looked at you, was unmistakable, Yoon Jeonghan was in love. But you also knew it would be hard for him to say it out loud. You were becoming his weakness, so you weren't surprised to see fear in his gaze as well.

That is why you could not bring yourself to say it either. Your love for him was so strong, so passionate that it scared you.

“Boss.”

Jeonghan stood up straight, turning his head over his shoulder to see Jeon Wonwoo approaching with a cautious step. “Sorry to interrupt,” he said, motioning a hand before tucking it to his back. “But I think I found it. I found the warehouse.”

“Are you sure this time?”

Wonwoo nodded once. “Positive. I just got a confirmation from my guy, and it seems that there’s going to be a buyout in two hours.”

“Get the boys, tell them to get ready,” Jeonghan ordered without a second thought. “I’ll be back here in half an hour to cover the essentials.”

“Yes, boss,” Wonwoo nodded once again, walking away promptly.

Jeonghan said nothing else to you, closing the passenger door to go around the car, slipping on the driver seat, and turning the engine on swiftly. “Let’s get you home.”

“What was that about?” you asked with genuine curiosity.

“Wonwoo has been looking for your sister. He thinks he just found her,” he said with an aloof manner as he focused on backing up the car to then put it on Drive, his hand resting on the stick for some seconds before switching to palm your thigh gently. “I’m going with them to stake it out later tonight.”

“Will you be safe?” you asked sweetly at him, grabbing his hand on your thigh, and lacing your fingers with his.

“Course I will,” he replied warmly.

When you got back to your apartment, you decided to clean up at once. One, you had to eliminate all traces that Jeonghan fucked you. So you trashed your ruined tights and your panties. And then you took a long shower, thinking of what Jeonghan told you before dropping you off.

You were towel drying your hair, dragging yourself on your slippers and a robe to the living room where you stopped short at the sight of your fiancé. “Oh, hi honey,” you blurted nervously. “How are you?” you asked with an overly sweet tone. But as he approached, you noticed that he was getting ready to head out again. “Are you busy tonight?”

“Yeah,” he replied distractedly, approaching you to place a swift kiss on your mouth, which you were too surprised to reciprocate. “I was heading out to check on some deliveries and then I wanted us to grab dinner. So, get changed. We’re heading out in five minutes.”

Some moments later, you sat on one side of the backseat of a car. Both you and Hyunjun kept silent as the chauffeur drove you to a large warehouse near the docks of the city. You looked at your fiancé curiously.

“Stay here,” he had instructed before exiting the car. And you were smart and did the right thing. For about five minutes.

The warehouse stored columns upon columns of cement bags piled on each other. They looked like small buildings as you carefully treaded your way in search of your fiancé. He already believed that you were a complete fool, so you could explore here and come up with some lame excuse if he found you. And at the same time, you would gather intel for Jeonghan. What kind of business would Hyunjun have here?  

It was an odd place, that was for sure. But you knew what kind of places gangs usually did their buyouts. This was not weird for you. So you let your intuition win and guide you, leading you down a hall full of doors. You opened them one by one, finding empty rooms. Until you opened one that did not.

Kiki was lying on a dirty old couch. She looked like she had moved in a long time. Her face was hidden beneath a cushion. You felt nauseous, heart racing in your chest as you rushed to the couch, dropping to your knees to try and turn her body over.

She was cold and frail. There was dirt collecting on her cheeks and you could see tears had dried on her skin. Her lips were chapped, and there was a bruise on one of her bony cheekbones.

“Kiki?” you whispered, using your trembling fingers to touch her, but you were so afraid to do so. “Kiki, it’s me. Wake up.”

You started crying, she was in such a frail state your mind started racing, fearing for the worst. But you had to calm yourself down, you had to act quickly for her. So you brought one finger under her nose, by her lips. And waited.

The hairs of your finger bristled when she let out the softest exhale. You checked your surroundings before deciding you would get her out of there, right there and then.

A chill ran down your spine when you tried cradling her weak body in your arms. Not because you could not do it, but because it came easily to you, being that she was so light.

Your heart pounded in your ears as you moved through the hall full of different doors, making your way out as quietly as possible, not drawing the attention of anyone, let alone your unassuming fiancé.

But that was until the first unmistakable sound of gunshots crossed the air. You stopped your escape cold, a wave of cold washing over you when you realized something. This was the warehouse Wonwoo had mentioned. Why were you here? Why had Hyunjun brought you here?

More gunshots were fired, a tumultuous happening in the distance. You took a few steps, glancing down the hallway. The warehouse esplanade was crammed with towers of cement-lined bags. The first column served as a good hiding place while you looked for a way out, so you decided to move quickly.

Carefully, you crouched to your knees, Kiki still unconscious in your arms. Panting, you took the chance to glance again, finding your fiancé’s man unconscious on the ground. It was as if there was no space in your brain to worry about anything else, all focus was on getting Kiki out of there.

But… where is Hyunjun? It was just a fleeting thought. Maybe you could drag Kiki to the nearest SUV. Maybe you would be lucky enough to find the keys stashed somewhere. Maybe you could wait until the gunfire stops.

“Sister?”

You dropped your knees on the ground for support, looking at your sister’s face. She opened her eyes weakly, your chest tightening when you saw how dead they were. Vacant, like a lifeless doll.

“Yes, Kiki. It’s me,” you cooed softly, ignoring the loud banging around you, the screaming.

“Is this real?”

Tears spilled from your eyes quickly, making you sniffle. “Yes. Yes, sweetie, this is real,” you replied sadly.

She gave you no reply, and you realized she was drifting away again. You needed to act now, you needed to find the nearest hospital. You needed to save her.

And in your hurry to get her to safety, you got more reckless.

Quickly, an idea formed in your head. You could get Kiki to one of the cars. You just needed a clear way out of the warehouse without being hit.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

There was a sinking feeling inside you as you lifted your head to look at Seungcheol. At seeing your startled reaction, he lifted his palms onto view.

“Easy,” he warned, approaching you carefully to not draw any attention. “Is she alive?”

“Yeah,” you panted, saying the next words in a quick slurry mess. “Hyunjun brought me here, I don’t know why. Told me to wait in the car. But I just got a hunch that she’d be here.”

“Fuck,” he said under his breath. But he crouched in front of you, a darkness in his gaze that had your gut twisting tighter. “Hyunjun is dead.”

There is nothing that could compare to the relief that washed over you when you heard those words. But you also felt a heavy guilt falling upon you. Seungcheol looked worried, not like a man who just won a war.

“That… that’s good, isn’t it?” you stuttered.

“Listen carefully,” he said, his shifty gaze not quite focusing on you. “I’m going to take your sister into one of the vans and then I’ll come back for you, you hear me?”

You frowned confusedly. “What’s happening, Seungcheol? Where is Jeonghan?”

“Hyunjun got betrayed by his men,” he said, and then you understood the burden of the situation. “He got betrayed by your dad’s men.”

“C-could my dad have done this?” you asked dumbly. “I don’t get it.”

“I don’t know, we don’t know. He was dead before Jeonghan could even get to him,” he blurted uncontrollably, he was shaking. “Chances are that this is a sting op because half of the people out there are also cops.”

“What?” your chest tightened painfully. “Jeonghan is here?”

“There’s no time for that right now,” he said, grabbing your sister’s limp body from your grasp. “Stay hidden. I’ll come back for you.”

It had become hard to breathe. The feeling twisting your guts made you recoil back against the hard column behind you, trying to hug limbs to keep yourself out of sight.

The commotion kept on going, screams, grunts, gunshots. But you could not pay attention to that, you wanted to cover your ears, but at the same time, you needed to remain alert. You could tell that people were approaching your hiding place, and you made a motion to gather yourself to start running.

But the man came in front of your view before you could even stand up, pointing a gun at you, you made a move to crawl away, to move out of the way. He fired once, twice, the latter hitting you in the small of your back, the bullet penetrating you making your muscles contract and grow hot.

You felt confused the first second. You slumped down on the ground, then you tried to press a hand on your tummy. It was then that you felt the searing-hot pain.

Confused still, you lifted your gaze to see the man that just shot you. He was lying dead on the ground, a knife lodged in his bleeding neck.

You felt limp, your head lolling to one side before your body also dropped to the ground. A tall figure approached you fast, it was Seungcheol. He said he would come back to you.

“No, no, no, no,” he muttered, grabbing your body, and swiftly lifting you. “Stay with me, stay with me,” he said louder.

“Jeonghan,” you muttered drowsily, still feeling an echo of confusion invading your brain.

“He’s on his way back to the hangar. We’re going there,” he informed you promptly, knowing that the worry would kill you before the wide-open wound on your belly.  

“And Kiki?”

“She’s fine, we’re getting you both out of here,” Seungcheol said as he placed you in the back seat of the car, then barked some orders to someone nearby. “Get inside now.”

Kim Mingyu climbed on the back seat of the car, the deep frown on his face going lax once he took one look at you. “Fuck, she’s bleeding,” he said, looking at Seungcheol who was just closing the door to his side.

“Help her,” he ordered, driving away at full speed.

“What happened?” he asked with a worried tone, the man who was all muscle and cunning was breaking down in front of your eyes.

“She got shot,” Seungcheol gritted, sending a look through the rearview mirror. “Don’t let her pass out.”

“Let’s get you on your back,” Mingyu said, motioning over to his lap where you automatically let your head drop, lying across the back seat. “I’m going to do something you won’t like, okay?”

Mingyu waited for no confirmation from your part, and pressed one of his large hands on your belly, right where the wound was.

You cried out loudly. “Fuck! It hurts, it hurts,” you stammered, tears springing out of your eyes immediately, you tried to back away, to free yourself from Mingyu’s grasp. But you were becoming weak, and the pain numbed the rest of your senses quickly.

“Does Jeonghan know?” Mingyu asked with a heavy tone, you could not make out his face between the shadows of the car.

There was a long moment before Seungcheol replied, and it was only one word burdened with a severity that you feared. “Yes.”

Mingyu cursed under his breath. “Bullet got through, she’s bleeding out quickly,” Mingyu informed loudly, keeping steady despite Seungcheol’s fast driving. “Is the doctor on the way?”

“Wonwoo’s already told Joshua to get to the hangar as soon as possible.”

“I know it hurts, but try not to move,” Mingyu muttered at you when you tried to get his hand off your belly.

You were a mess, squirming, crying, growing drowsy, babbling out nonsense.

Sooner than you had expected, the car was pulling up to the hangar. Seungcheol jumped out to get your body from the passenger’s seat. “Get the sister inside,” he ordered Mingyu as he carried you inside hurriedly.

You were neatly placed on a cold surface, squinting your eyes at a pale white light. You were in a small room, you spotted Seungcheol’s face, he was smeared with blood all over, a worried look plastered on him.

“Where is she?” you heard Jeonghan’s voice before you could even register where you were. Jeonghan came into view, looking so pale you thought he was sick.

“I’m alright,” you sighed weakly, your belly had stopped hurting, it just pulsated in between intervals. You knew you were trying to ease his worry, though it was futile, it was worth the try. “I’m okay.”

Jeonghan did not reply, approaching you with two big steps and started looking at the damage. “Give me a cloth, something to press on the wound,” he ordered and some seconds later, someone handed him what looked like a flannel shirt and started pressing on your belly again, making a drawn-out cry come out of you. “I’m sorry, baby, I have to do this.”

You gritted your teeth, breathing rapidly. “Jeonghan,” you called.

“You’re going to be okay, baby,” he spoke softly, and although your lucidity had started to wane, you knew he was worried for you. His eyes were teary, his eyebrows withdrawn, and his hands were shaking, pressed to your belly.

Your vision became blurry and bright, forcing you to close your heavy eyelids and swallow hard.

Not yet, not yet, not yet. You knew you were dying now. “Jeonghan,” you whispered, your jaw trembling slightly.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Jeonghan replied, still keeping his tone sweet for you. But he was heaving, looking at you with so much worry that you nearly broke down into tears.

But you were growing weaker by the second, you could feel your blood pooling on the table you were lying.

Jeonghan’s breathing became ragged, you knew he had started to cry. What you saw in his teary eyes was pure, and utter fear. “Baby?” he breathed.

“I’m cold,” you muttered weakly.

“Hold on,” he whispered shakily, tears brimming in his eyes as he leaned over your body, pressing with more strength on your tummy. “You’re going to be fine, help is coming.”

“Jeonghan,” you asked softly, pain had eased a while ago, you could only feel the muscles of your face, the rest of your body starting to grow numb. You took his wrist, but the man pressed harder at your tummy.

“Yes?” he breathed.

You blinked dumbly when warm tears fell on your face. “Let’s run away,” you whispered weakly.

“Where?” he muttered, his voice breaking as he sniffled quietly.

You did not reply, it was becoming harder to form thoughts, your mouth was numb, and you were sure you were drifting away now. Far away, you wanted to tell him. But never found the energy to do so.

“Where, baby?” he insisted, tears rolling down his cheeks. You wanted to tell him to stop crying, you hated to see him cry. “Baby? Please, please, talk to me, sweetheart. Don’t close your eyes, keep looking at me.”

You said nothing, and although you heard every word he said, you were finding it difficult to understand him. All you could think of was that you regretted not telling him you loved him. And now you were leaving him, and he would never know.

A gentle exhale came out of your mouth, you blinked one last time. Jeonghan’s tear-stained face was the last thing you saw before everything faded to black. But you could still hear the door bursting open, a dry voice telling Jeonghan it was time to go.

“No,” he gritted. “I’m not leaving her.”

“It’s now or never!” Seungcheol barked. “Jeonghan, they’re coming.”

A new set of hands took over. “She’s going to be fine. Step away, please, so I can get to work,” the new voice said with a calm tone.

“If she dies–,”

“If she dies, and they find you here, it’s over for all of us. If she survives and you stay here, it’s over for all of us including her.”

His cold hands released their grip on your body with a reluctance that you could feel even with your eyes closed. A ghostly kiss was placed on your forehead, it was quick, but you could make out his final promise.

“Wait for me, baby. We’ll find each other again,” he whispered.

And then you drifted to sleep.

› epilogue

The streets of the town were deserted.

Jeonghan made his way down the steep sidewalk as the dawn crept on the pavement. The sky was clear, the air felt nice, cold against his skin. As he approached the end of the street, the lake came into his view, making him notice the humidity in the atmosphere.

He cast a look over his shoulder, even though the only thing he could hear around him was the sound of his footsteps, the certainty was what he needed. Every morning, he went out to do some checkups, just to appease the paranoia in his head.

His hands got clammy as he approached the door, turning the handle quietly as to not make any noise, and pushed inside, tucking one hand behind his back.

“There you are, I was beginning to wonder,” you chirped softly, arching one eyebrow. “What do you have in there?”

Jeonghan bit down his lower lip, trying to conceal his smile as he showed you a big bouquet of fresh flowers he had hidden behind his back.

Your face fell in shock, making the man burst out chuckling. “What’s this? You got me flowers?”

He paced inside the tiny home, handing you the flowers. “Just because,” he said, planting a kiss on your forehead.

“Mmm, you’re in a good mood this morning,” you grinned, closing your eyes due to the proximity of his face to your own.

But you accepted the bouquet, running the pads of your fingers on one of the soft white petals.

“I’m just really lucky,” he muttered, swiftly reading your face, smiling at you.

“Babe,” you tilted your head in utter adoration for him, you lifted a hand to cup his face. “We’ve been through this. We’re fine, were safe.” 

Jeonghan took the hand from his cheek, planting a soft kiss on your palm, shaking his head slightly. “Being on the run with me isn’t fine,” he muttered with a pained look on his face. “You deserve a better life.”

In fact, you were laying low in a quiet town in a different country. You have had to start over again multiple times since you ran off with him. Jeonghan was implicated in the events that went down that night and he had to run away, leaving you behind.

Jeonghan kept his promise. Your sister was safe, and you could start from zero now.

The journey to finding him was not easy. It took you months to get even a sign of life from his part, and you knew he only wanted to make sure you were safe before he tried to seek you out.

It was even harder to convince him to come to where he was. But you waited, knowing that it would take him some time and insisting to concede.

You lowered the bouquet on the table, now using your other hand to brush his short hair back. “Hannie, don’t say that,” you whispered. “All I want is to be with you. I’m happy, and I’m safe.”

But you knew he was heavily ridden with guilt, feeling that it was his fault that you got shot and injured. And now that you had to be on the run with him, he felt like you were not living a worthy life.

He pushed his eyebrows in question, pouting softly. “Happy?”

You giggled at his expression, looking so innocent and cute. “The happiest,” you muttered, wrapping his neck with your arms.

His gaze relaxed once he heard your laugh, lifting a hand to pinch your chin as the other squeezed your waist. “I’ll make you even happier.”

You smiled as you pulled him into a kiss. “Thank you for the flowers. I love them,” you whispered. “I love you.”

“For my favorite girl,” he replied in kind. “I love you too, baby.”

› author's note: hi there beautiful readers! (●'◡'●) i want to start this note by saying that i struggle with writing about dark themes such as this one, (gangster-related things). so this served as an exercise/challenge? i hope you like it! anyways, toodles support me on ko-fi? © RIGHTS RESERVED TO HANNIEWEEN I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS OF MY WORKS OR THEIR REPOSTING ON OTHER WEBSITES.

[depresssant]

Shades Of Cool

NEGLECTFUL!PLATONIC!YAN!batfam x GN!reader - part l, part ll

synopsis : growing up with a shit mom and constant step-dads and mom's boyfriends, your view on life has grown pretty bleak. you just want to die, since it doesn't seem to get better than this. things can't get any worse, can they?

so reader is very flawed ppl. i’m trying to make this as gn as possible for pls bear with me. asks and requests r open. reblogs are also much appreciated. now that i’ve gotten my e-begging out of the way, enjoy this pathetic excuse of a story

warnings : child abuse, past sexual abuse, yandere, etc

you want to die.

you always do.

staring at the wanna be thug pointing a gun at you, you sigh and roll your eyes in exasperation. perhaps pissing him off will the best way to get him to curl a finger around the trigger. or judging by his temperament, you won't have to do much.

"you? i should give my money to you?"

"who the fuck do you think you are, bitch?" the thug screams at you angrily. his grip gets tighter and clammier. he's not experienced with this. he's probably ganged up with a bunch of thugs to pull shit like this. it wouldn't take much to disarm him. "give me the fucking money before i blow your head off!"

"to a junkie like you?" you are a junkie, too, so you're not too sure about making fun of him for that. "i don't give money to hobos."

that is wrong, too. but you want to piss him off.

"that's it, you stupid bitch!" the thug's stances becomes defensive. his hateful glare is pointed at you while he musters the courage to actually press the trigger. he doesn't look like he'll do it. you've seen countless like him roaming the streets, holding you at gunpoint. he probably won't do it. then again, this is gotham. you don't expect much. either he'll shoot you dead, forcibly take your stuff, flee the scene out of fear, or be dismantled by one of the city's vigilantes. perhaps he'd shoo—

"stop right there!"

damn it.

you think too soon.

a young robin is quick to have the wanna be thug tied up and beat down. you would've questioned why a kid who seemingly looked twelve can do such a thing, but you've learned to not question most things in your life. you merely sigh in disappoint and pick up your dropped backpack before beginning the journey to hell.

"excuse me? wait! where are you headed?"

gosh, his boy-ish voice grates your nerves. makes you clench your teeth. your gaze narrows, but you know better than to react. reaction gains a reaction—one that will never be in your favor. it'll lead to a fight—one that will never be in your favor. you'll end up broken, bleeding, and bruised. now that isn't something in your favor. now you're thinking of favor too much. forcing a smile, you turn around to face the pre-teen vigilante. "yes?"

"are you alright?" he asks with practiced concern. he doesn't actually care. it's probably just protocol.

"a-okay!" the words are hollow. they lack depth. like you. "thank you for your help. i don't know what would've happened to me if you weren't there."

you do know. you wish you wouldn't.

"you're welcome," robin replies with polished words like he's not exactly convinced. "would you like for me to walk you? the city hasn't been safe for some time now."

"when is it ever safe? but that's okay. i live just around the corner, so i think i'll be fine."

"are you sure—"

"completely."

please. why won't he just leave you alone? there goes your plan spoiled by him again. every time you've been in an attempted robbing, he's been there to destroy your chances of getting shot. of escaping. he always does this. this is a repeated cycle between the two of you. he's a flying bird until you shoot him down. your name clearly wants to escape from his lips, but robin nods his head in understanding.

"this seems to happen to you all the time. my wish is for you to be safe."

"this is gotham." the grip on the straps on your backpack tighten. "everyone's gotta go through this. anyways, i gotta go, you know. thanks for savin' me."

"of course."

you don't spare him a single glance. the sky is wrapped up in black clouds heavy with the burden of rain. icy cold wind sings a melancholy tune through the stiff air. the door to your apartment looks like the gates of hell. it's all futile. no matter how many sighs you sigh, how many wishes you wish, and how many curses you curse, you'll still land up in the same fate. without escape.

that is the summary of your life.

taking a few seconds to prepare yourself for the incoming session, you open the door to be met with radio silence. silence is never good. half the time, it means something is brewing for you, and they're taking their sweet time to scare you into thinking nothing will happen. sometimes. not all the time. the other time, it just means he need to rise from his pile of misery first.

the hand of your mother's boyfriend is instantly wrapped around your neck before you can even register why the hell the apartment looks like a tornado hit it. he squeezes so tightly you feel like blood is gushing out of your ears with how loudly they ring. white spots dot along your blurry sight as you struggle to breathe. you can hear a frantic voice telling him to let you go, but you're pushed up more against the wall. this is the norm. doesn't mean it hurts any less. he'll let you go, give you some time to regain your breath, and then rain down bullets upon you.

that's exactly what happens.

your hand goes straight to your neck as your raspy and shaky coughs wreck your chest. he squeezes hard enough for it to hurt but it not show. and then the kicks and punches come. with how much your chest and ribs are struck, you're a bit surprised at how you haven't broken a bone yet. your potential step-father screams at you, but you can barely hear it over the repetition of words in your head. he grabs your bloody face and shout something incoherent before letting you go to kick you.

leaving you in your own pile of misery.

it's normal. yes, it's completely normal. you're used to this. it'll get better. it always does. but you've got the crushing idea it never will.

gotham heights high school—the school you're forced to attend.

the class division is insane to look at, because it's there even from a short and near prospective. how the richest kids got put in a school with the poorest—you'll never know. the only thing you do know is that every one of these kids are pieces of shit. even the ones that pretend to be nice.

tim drake—or shall you say tim wayne—is no different.

even as he helps up the girl who just got roughly pushed to the floor, causing all her textbooks to scatter, you can only eye him with disdain. if he really cares, then he would've beat the shit out of those athletes. but he doesn't. they're all the same—privileged and all. sympathy shouldn't be given to them. not to drake or the wealthy yet somehow bullied girl.

"but y'know what i heard?" your friend drags your attention back to him. zarian leans against a locker lazily, but excitement practically buzzes off of him. "the bruce wayne is coming to our track meet today!"

your other friend, jaylene, rolls her eyes as she applies her eyeliner using the mirror hanging up on the inside door of her locker. she speaks exactly what you're thinking. "only because his beloved son is gonna be there."

"well, still. think about the connections we can make! all the famous people that'll be there."

"keep dreaming. asshat. i put all my money on the attention being on rich the kid. i don't even know why he joined track. varsity, at that, too. there has to be some sort of bribery going on."

an incoming argument is clearly brewing up, so you take in a deep breath to say something, but a new voice beats you to it.

"excuse me?"

you and your two friends turn to face the guy standing in front of you. charismatic, intelligent,  and optimistic—he's an enigma that shines on everyone. tim drake. his black, messy yet somehow in place hair does no justice for his good looks. he's the complete package. rich, good looking, tall, and empathetic. the mere sight of him annoys you.

zarian is the first to speak up. he quirks a brow and offers tim a grin. "what's up, man?"

"you're leaning against my locker." tim rubs the back of his neck. he smiles awkwardly in the presence of the three of you, and it takes your friend a beat to understand what he's saying before moving away.

"oh yeah. my fault," he says as he moved to stand next to you.

the school's very own bruce wayne only shakes his head and tells him it's okay while opening his locker and grabbing a few things. people flock around, waiting for him to be done with whatever the hell he's doing, so they can be back to his side like leeches sucking on blood. he surely can't be this dumb, no? these people don't want to be his friend...

well, it's not as if it's your problem. you wish it is. you and your friends turn to make way to first period, but drake clearly has other plans. he sandwiches himself between you and zarian with a grin of his own plastered on an unblemished face. one carefree of any worry or pain. "so," tim begins. "first track meet of the year, huh? aren't you guys nervous?"

jaylene merely hums in amusement and shrugs. "it gets better. when you've spent four years in track—in front of all those judging people—it wears off. hopefully, you'll get used to it soon."

that is jab, though, rich the kid doesn't seem to catch on. he laughs casually, but even you can sense the anxiety like it was radioactive. ""i hope so. i've sprinted so much i feel like i'll get shin splits again."

you zone out while he has a conversation with your friends. as if drake has ever had experience with track. it took you all of freshman year to just prove that you can actually be a part of the track team, and here tim drake is, parading around about getting on varsity without a single grain of hard work. he's a naturally talented person. good at everything. that's what makes you hate him so much. people like him get everything handed to them just because they're good at it first hand and leave behind people that actually work for it. you want to tell him to buzz off—that he can't talk about how much he's practiced and how nervous he is, but you keep your mouth shut. that is, until he directly addresses you.

tim's eyes narrow at you with comedic suspicion. "you know, you look like someone i know. a lot. the resemblance is crazy."

"eight billion people out there. you never know." your tone is flat, stoic, lacking any bit of emotion.

"gosh, you even sound like him! that's really terrifying."

"well, whoever, it is, i hope i never meet him," you murmur.

your two friends leave for their classes soon, and you and drake find your seats at the back of high school economics. exhaustingly so, you sit together in one of the many desk pairs, and drake uses this opportunity to annoy you any chance he gets. you give off the vibe that you don't want to talk to him. he doesn't get the hint. you don't tell him, though. maybe that's the problems. his shit-eating grin ticks you off when you look in his direction. "what?"

"let's be friends!"

"no."

"what? come on! don't be so cold!" he whines like a petulant child being told no.

"no."

"too bad! you're my friend now."

"tim," you sigh. it's wrong to scream. it's bad to scream. screaming leads to fights. fights lead to you laying in a pool of your own blood. laying in blood leads to missing practice. missing practice leads to less skill. less skill leads to less of a chance of getting the hell out of here. just smile. forgive and forget. know your persona. know who you are. kind. happy. funny. "fine." so you smile with gritted teeth. you smile like you played a cruel joke on him. "we can be friends... i guess."

his face brightens at your fake words like he is just given the the world.

tim drake wiggles his eyebrows playfully and nudges you with his elbow. "you know, i've been trying to get you to say that since school started?"

"really now?"

"really. i'm glad we're going to be friends. oh! should we go out to eat with zarian and jaylene after the meet?"

... there's a chance your mom's boyfriend will get pissed off. he'll probably beat the shit out of you since the track meet would have happened, and you wouldn't need to have an unblemished body for meets. he'd scream, yell, and punch... like his life depended on it... fuck it.

"yeah," you reply shortly after with a firm nod of your head. "we can go to this diner near the theater. i'm sure you'll love the food."

this doesn't mean you hate him any less. he's still rich scum⏤how you're poor scum. he's stuck up, pretentious, and sickeningly sweet. exactly what you hate. you just hope you can have a good time after the track meet. the mischievous glint in his eyes told you otherwise.

"and this is my dad, bruce wayne."

what the hell are you doing?

the sun is setting along the horizon, the air is getting cooler again, and you want to sink into the floor. the plan was to head straight to the diner after this, but rich the kid somehow roped you into meeting his dad?

nausea pools in your stomach from both hunger and the feeling of thousands of eyes staring at you. cameras are flashing at gotham's billionaire as he smiles and firmly shakes your hand. confidence drips off of him disgustingly. his high-tailored suit radiates wealth and money. his stoic demeanor gives off an aura of mystery. you want to lay on a railroad track with an incoming train speeding along the way.

"it's nice to meet you. tim has ranted about his track teammates quite a lot."

there's an eleven year old standing next to him. his eyes are on you like that of an owl's but you neither glance at him or bother to acknowledge him. you just want to eat some food before meeting your doom at that apartment for not placing first like your mom's boyfriend wanted you to. like a goat getting stuffed before slaughter. it always leads down to that. no matter how many times you try to wish it was different. no matter how many times you imagine it to be different. no matter how many times you try to make it different.

"nice to meet you too." you shake his hand as well with a polite smile on your face. polite. calm. gentle. proper. "and yeah, he seems very eager to be on the team."

"of course, of course. well, it is getting late. why don't you come over for dinner some time?"

"maybe tonight?" tim suddenly adds in. at your hesitant expression, he groans in exasperation. "who do you think we are? blood-sucking bats? come on, we can go to the diner some other time!"

you have just met him... you've just accepted being his friend... you aren't the most social person. you've never had much friends, but even you can understand that dinner with the family doesn't happen until the friend and person have come close in a long period of time. jaylene and zarian have other matters to tend to, so it's going to be just you and tim at a diner. not⏤

ding!

your phone's notification's alarm chimes, and when you check who has sent you a message, you feel like getting on the ground to pray to whatever deity for letting you have a moment of peace.

mom: ⏤he's heavily drunk. don't come home.

a part of you is hit with a strong current full of guilt. this is your mother. you're supposed to be there for her through thick and thin. you're supposed to protect her and be her wall of defense against monsters like him. family look out for each other. you have to take care of her... but she doesn't take care of you. this makes you a terrible person. you know that. she'll probably get beaten to an inch of her life and hide her heavy bruises under makeup that was terribly done in a rush. and then, she'll throw whatever object is in sight at you in a fury of anger.

telling you she made too many sacrifices for you. telling you that you're ruined her life. telling you that she should've aborted you like your father had told her to. telling you exactly what you believe yourself. a curse that should've never been born... she'll be beaten within an inch of her life. but you have already lost yours.

after pretending to text her and sliding your phone into the pocket of your sweatpants, you nod with a sigh of joking resignation. "sure. i asked my mom, and she said it's okay."

"wonderful." mr. wayne nods and gestures to the limo you can see in the parking lot. a bit of overkill, perhaps.

honestly, you're still surprised that gotham's billionaire is inviting you to dinner. this man is the topic of magazines, and you're about to take a ride in his limo. how the hell have you ended up in a situation like this? fate is still fucking with you, isn't it?

you find yourself seated next to tim while mr. wayne and his youngest son, damian, sit on the seats to your right. they're talking about something, but once again, you find yourself half listening and zoning out, staring at nothing until mr. wayne's questions pulls you back to reality.

"so how has school been faring for you?" mr. wayne asks in a cool and collected tone.

you laugh lightly and smile as politely as ever. "pretty good. i hope to leave gotham after graduation to study somewhere else."

"who would want to stay in gotham?" tim rolled his eyes, rolling the first place medal between his fingers. "by the way, remember when i said you looked like someone i know? i was talking about my dad?"

your brows rise in both exasperation and annoyance at his claims. now he's just plain, out right trying to make fun of you in front of a billionaire. your shoulders tense, ready to refute his claims, but mr. wayne surprisingly chuckles and rubs his chin while taking a good look at your face. "well, i can see it, but there's eight billion people out there in the world. i'm bound to look like someone. though, i didn't expect for it to be someone as talented as [name] here."

you force a quiet laugh along at the sound of his tone. foreboding. you know tones like this. like he's hiding something that they all know except for you. it means you've made a mistake in even giving in to tim drake's constant begging. why the hell was he so eager to have you become his friend? why is he so eager to maintain a friendship with you? why the hell has mr. wayne invited you to dinner when he's rumored to be mysterious, secretive, and a literal brick wall that nobody can get past?

"you've achieved so much for a child your age." mr. wayne sets his gaze dead on you. "your father must be so proud."

and his eyes glimmer with that same shine you saw in tim's.

ewwww

this was not proofread so forgive me and uh, i will be turning this into a series

um also making a tag list if anyone wants to be a part of it

[luveline]

jadey you write poly marauders in such a special way it feels so realistic i love it so much 🥹 how do you think it would go if reader and one of them get into a fight/argument? like how would it affect the overall dynamic? (if this inspires anything pls go for it 💕💕💕)

thank you for requesting! fem

Remus lays with his head on your shoulder, but he’s not happy about it. James and Sirius aren’t subtle. They’d forced the two of you together and yes, Remus has missed you, but he doesn’t want to speak to you and he’s sure you’re feeling the same. 

You have put your hand atop his, not holding but resting there. He might be forgiven. He hopes he’s forgiven, but he doesn’t forgive you, so. 

James has made Remus’ favourite popcorn, freshly popped and doused in butter and caramel he made himself with sugar over the hob. Remus takes great grateful handfuls, given the added benefit of James’ smug smiling. Each piece he eats is like James’ receiving a job well done, and Potter’s can’t help but preen. 

Sirius sneaks bits of it over you. You don’t eat any, pointedly, your leg on Sirius’ knee and your foot wagging constantly. Restless. Annoyed. 

“Will you be angry with each other forever?” Sirius asks. 

“Sirius.”  

“What? I’m just asking.” 

“You’re being abrupt,” James says. 

Remus sighs until they both stop talking. He doesn’t know how long you’ll be angry with one another. For him it seems to come and go, and it doesn’t always help that James is neutral about it while Sirius’ loudly complains that you’re not yet over it after a frosty weekend. He wishes one of them would’ve backed him up, but then, he can’t imagine how that would feel for you. It’s not like he wants you to be upset. It’s just an unfortunate consequence of the whole thing. 

You’d cried when you argued but you’d been angry, too, quipping at him with a sharp tongue, not afraid to say what you’d felt, just overwhelmed enough to come to tears. They weren’t, you know, devastated tears or anything, but Remus had felt a pit open where his stomach was supposed to be as Sirius (Sirius, and not James, which felt important at the time) curled his arm around you and encouraged you to take a breather. 

James had stayed, giving Remus a good hug as he’d murmured, “That got too heated, huh? You okay?” 

Remus gets weird about James. About all of you, but James had been his first crush, so sometimes he feels rather daunted in the face of his affection. James likes that he can make Remus blush, but nobody’s acted very fond these last few days. It’s weird. It’s all off. The love is still there, but it’s like everyone’s afraid of showing it. 

You argued about something Remus said, and you misunderstood, and then something you said and Remus understood very well. Never the end of the world, but Remus is stubborn. He shouldn’t be. 

Remus turns his hand slowly under yours. To his relief, you let him do it, sliding your fingers between his. 

He lifts his head a touch. You don’t look at him. Sirius grins from the other side of you, and Remus ignores him. 

You slip further down into the sofa, Remus going with you, the whole group of you tired from a weekend on eggshells. 

Having seemed rather far away for the afternoon, you begin to relax. You force Remus’ head up to tuck yourself into his neck. When the movie ramps into a loud scene of gunshots and high speed car chase, you lift your lips to his ear and say, “I’m sorry, Lupin, but don’t you ever speak to me like that again.” 

He’d bristle if you didn’t sound teasing. Remus squeezes your hand, turns to see your face, and whispers back. “I’ll talk to you any way I like.” You huff a laugh. He’s so pleased to see a smile on your face that his resentment drains away completely. “I’m sorry, too,” he says. 

You nod at him. You accept his apology as he’d taken yours. An hour of being sat arm to arm and a half hour of hand-holding has reminded you both how much you really, really like the other. 

“Can we kiss and make up?” James asks. 

“I think that’s usually saved for the arguing parties,” Remus says. 

“We can argue, if you like,” you tell James. 

“Shall we?” James asks. 

Sirius argues with Remus once a week at least —nothing serious— and he knows the potency of a rough makeup kiss, sending him a knowing, inviting smile. “We can argue, Moony,” he says. 

Remus hugs you with one arm. “I’ve had enough arguing. I’m never doing it again.” 

“Good. I’m very tired, playing peacekeeper and all,” James says, slouching away from everyone. “Exhausted, even.” 

“What shall we do to make it up for him?” Remus asks you, having quickly descended into sickly sweetness, a murmur pressed into your cheek. 

“What does he want?” 

“What do you want, James?” 

James sits up. “Well, it wasn’t just me, you know. Sirius has been comic relief two days running. He’s not usually this funny otherwise.” 

“I resent that.” 

“Luckily for you both, there’s two of us,” Remus says.

You laugh, because you know what Sirius will say before he says it. “No!” you say, lifting a foot to kick at his leg. 

“Don’t be so rude,” Sirius says, grabbing you by the ankle. 

James decides you’ll celebrate with a takeaway and Sirius decides he’ll pick which one for being so diligently well-behaved this weekend, leaving you and Remus alone for the first time all day. Things feel a bit more raw, less soothed, but not bad. Remus peels away from you to look at you properly. 

“You okay?” you ask. 

“I was about to ask you the same thing.” 

“I’m okay if you are.” 

Remus taps your under the jaw, a little to the left, encouraging you to turn your head. He kisses you on the cheek. 

In the kitchen, James and Sirius giggle like school kids. Somebody gets a good whack in with a tea towel, and the other shrieks. “You thing!” Sirius says. 

Remus feels your side shake with laughter.

[pretty-little-mind33]

Pietro Maximoff x stark!fem!reader

Summary: You've always hated Pietro for his player tendencies—turns out he's never hated you at all.

Genre: Fluff, hurt and comfort (enemies to lovers)

Warnings: implied fuck-boy!Pietro, reader is Tony Stark's daughter (no physical description), reader hates Pietro in the beginning, mentions of blood and gun wounds, swearing, because Sokovia isn't real- I used Czech as Pietro and Wanda's language (i don't speak Czech so i used translating sites…if it's wrong, pls tell me)

~ thank you to the anon who requested this! this is my very first time writing for Pietro, please tell me what you think! ~

PIETRO MAXIMOFF MASTERLIST

Your father has always been overprotective of you. 

He usually doesn't involve you with his affairs when you're with him and not at Mom's, choosing to have your room as far from any Avengers as he possibly could. At sixteen, you didn't like this—you felt like you deserved to live normally in your own home—so when he asked you to become friends with his newest members, Twins from Sokovia who also happened to be sixteen, and make them feel welcomed, you were more than happy to do so.

You liked Wanda Maximoff from the first moment you met her. She seemed quiet and shy in the beginning, but she also has this fiery side to her that you admire. She never took shit from anyone, including her brother. 

Pietro Maximoff was very different from his sister. You remember standing in your room, your dad by your side, with an unamused Wanda in front of you as a blue blur sparked across the room, occasionally skidding to a stop and knocking over some books or picking up some trinkets and making unnecessarily judgmental and overly excited comments.  

"Pietro," Wanda hissed, "Přestaň (Stop it)."

His sister's warning had only made his grin widen, his silver hair falling over his strikingly blue eyes as he returned next to her, his arms crossed. "Promiňte (Sorry)." You didn't know what he'd said, but it didn't sound like he meant it. 

"Wanda," he pointed to his sister as he introduced her, and then his grin turned into a smile. "Pietro," he said, pointing to himself, and then he outstretched his hand with no awkwardness or hesitation. You looked down and then up at him again, turning to your dad with an unsure expression but when he nodded, you shook Pietro's hand.

"Y/n," you whispered with a smile, and as you shook his hand, what could have been the start of a wonderful friendship, should have started that day. 

Should have.

In the beginning, it was childish teasing—which involved stealing things from your room and hiding them around the tower because it made Pietro laugh, running past you in the halls so quickly you'd almost fall over, or jokingly ruining any chances with any boys at school because he'd stick his nose in business that never involved him. 

Most of the team and your dad found your banter funny—encouraging the same boys will be boys' bullshit that meant that as the years passed, your dislike for Pietro only worsened. 

It especially didn't help when, by seventeen, he'd found out he was pleasant enough to look at and that girls seemed to adore his boyish charm. So, any chance he had, he'd either heavily flirt with girls at school, or find excuses during missions to pick up any pretty girl he came across. 

Of course, this behavior only increased in his twenties and made him all the more annoying—especially since you began working the coms and the computer for when the team was out on missions. Ever since Ultron, your dad now trusted you more than a robot. 

You're curled up in your chair, your headphones on as you watch the multiple screens in front of you. Some have news outlets playing out the scene while others have the biometrics of Iron Man's suit and the others' suits to make sure all is well. You also have every member in your ear as your fingers glide over the keyboard.

"Dad?" you switch the coms and touch the microphone. 

"Yes, Y/n?" Tony Stark's voice echoes in your headphones and you smile. 

"I can try and hack into the network of that bastard's suit if you want?" 

"Actually, Y/n, can you locate Quicksilver for me? He was supposed to evacuate all the civilians but I can't reach him anymore. Could you try? He always answers you,"

Great, Pietro duty—again.

"Can't I do something more useful?"

Tony chuckles, making you glance at one of your computer screens where you can see him hovering in the air, protecting the civilians on the ground from some shit-bag escaped prisoners who had taken over some secret government-type weaponry and causing all kinds of havoc.

Steve and Natasha seem to be handling the situation with some tact, while Wanda looks like she's having fun crunching the weapons in the men's hands with her mind. All in all, the team seems like they're handling things just fine without Pietro around. 

"Quicksilver is useful to me, darling. I know he's not your favorite person right now, Y/n, but he's a valuable member of my team and I need you to find him for me."

You huff. "He was never my favorite person," you whisper roll your chair over to another keyboard, and disconnect Tony from your headphones. You bite your cheek and hit enter. "Pietro? Hello?"

No answer. 

You change the signal. 

"Wanda?"

"Hello!" Wanda answers and you hear some commotion in the background. 

"Where's your brother?" you ask, "he isn't answering me."

"I don't know," Wanda says and after a moment she adds, "I can feel him though."

"Thanks," you say, although she'd been completely unhelpful. All you'd learned was that Pietro was definitely alive—which wasn't really a concern of yours since you hadn't assumed something happened to him. You just assumed he was missing.

"Y/n?" 

You hear him in your headphones and you quickly change the channel again, pressing your lips closer to your microphone. "Pietro," you say.

"Yeah?" Pietro sounds like he's running, "What's up, Princezna (Princess)?"

"Don't call me that," you say, knowing damn well he'll call you that anyway. He always has. "Tony wants you. Where have you been?"

Pietro laughs. "I got a little distracted, Moje srdce (My heart)." You hear what sounds like another pet name—he calls you that from time to time you just refuse to ask him what it means.

You want to ask him what he means by distracted, but you assume it has something to do with him getting some girl's number so you don't want to know anymore. "I'm on my way back now so no need to worry your pretty head about me."

"I wasn't worried about you," you say instantly, "I was ordered to find you. Very different."

"Sure, Princezna, sure," Pietro says, his voice husky as he stops and takes a breath. "When are you going to fess up and admit you like me, hm? This cat-and-mouse game has been fun and all, but c'mon, what will it take for you to understand? Tady mě zabíjíš (You are killing me here)."

"Understand what?" 

"Understand that I–" Just as he speaks, you hear more familiar voices and shouting in the background and you look to one of the screens from a news outlet where you can see that Pietro is back with the team, only he's not running anymore. No, he looks like he's swaying. You stand to look closer at the screen. 

"Pietro?" you call into the mic, trying to understand what happened until you see him fall to the ground, clutching his side as his blue suit stains red. He must have stopped running for a moment and one of the fucking assholes dressed in machinery must have shot him. You panic and run to an opposite computer and change the channel one last time. 

"Wanda?" you whisper, your voice hoarse and shaky as you look back at the screen and see that Clint has found Pietro, and Wanda is running up to them too. "W-Wanda?" you try once more, watching her on-screen as she tends to her brother and ignores you.

You feel completely powerless.

* * *

When everyone comes home, you feel stupid as you greet them. Most of the Avengers send you sympathetic smiles as Tony walks up to you. Clint, Wanda, and Pietro aren't with them. You look up at your dad, feeling embarrassed that you're worried for someone you claim to hate.

Tony's expression softens as he hugs you stoically, he's not much for this type of affection but he can see you need this as you bury your nose into his shoulder. 

"He's being checked now but nothing serious," your dad sounds calm, "he's fine, darling."

You pull away, forcing a look of nonchalance as you. "I- I know that I- I didn't care either way," you lie shamelessly.  

Tony shakes his head, sounding exhausted when he says, "You're so stubborn, just like your mom." He ruffles your hair and kisses your forehead. "You can see him in a bit, I'm sure. I'll tell Wanda to come find you when he can have visitors."

You nod and spend the next few hours pacing your room, nibbling at the skin around your nails until you taste blood and finally, someone walks into your room—only it isn't Wanda. It's Pietro himself. He's wearing a slightly wrinkled tank top and a pair of slacks hung loosely around his hips. It's almost sinful. He grins cockily and runs a hand in his hair, his shirt riding up to expose his stomach. You stare at him, wide-eyed and your hand drops from your mouth. 

"What are you doing out of bed?!" you say, sounding more worried than you'd intended.

"What are you? My máma?" Pietro laughs and leans against the edge of your vanity. "I heal quick," he shrugs and looks around your room. He hadn't been in here in a while. He smirks. "Still sleep with Teddy, hm?" he hums. 

You feel warmth in your cheeks and you send your poor beaten-up-with-love Teddy-Bear a glare as if it was his fault you still slept with him in your arms at twenty-four. "Ha ha, funny," you mumble and move to stand in front of Pietro so he can't make fun of any more of your belongings. "No– I don't. Can you leave now?"

Pietro crosses his arms and tilts his head, his blue eyes piercing into yours. "Stark said you wanted to see me." 

Of course, he did. 

You narrow your eyes. "Well, I have seen you and I see you're fine so now I've changed my mind," you say with a shrug and point to your door, waiting for him to make the decision and leave. 

"You don't even wanna ask why I was distracted out there?" Pietro says and a smirk curls his lips.

"No–"

You feel the wind in your hair and in a blink, he's standing much closer to you with a slight pant—as if he'd just run—and he's holding a small bent bouquet of roses in his hands. He holds them out for you and you stare at them in disbelief. 

"What are those?"

"Roses."

You glare at him. "I know that but why?"

"I saw them and thought of you," he says so nonchalantly you almost don't believe him.

"What? When?"    

"When I was helping the civilians," Pietro shrugs and his eyes are intense. He pauses after a moment and raises his hand, his knuckles skimming your cheek. You freeze, warmth spreading all over your cheeks as you panic internally. "Saw them in the park and I wanted to get them for you."

Your eyes widen. "Isn't that illegal?"

Pietro smirks. "Not if it's done in the name of love, Princezna."

"I don't think that's how that works—" Realization dawns on you and you feel like you're spinning. "Wait, wait, what did you just say?" 

Pietro laughs and his hand moves to tuck some hair behind your ear, smiling. Maybe he's excited but you can feel his skin vibrate on yours. Your heart is pounding so heavily and your mind is screaming at you that this is all a trick and this is what he does with girls. He throws around the l-word and expects women to fall at his feet. He's a player.

"What I was trying to tell you before I was rudely shot, is why haven't you caught on and understood that I'm madly in love with you?"

What?!

You blink at him and then take a step away from him, shaking your head as you force a laugh. "Pietro, this isn't funny. It isn't funny to mess with me like this. You know how I feel about you playing with my feelings—"

Pietro frowns. "Playing with you?" 

You roll your eyes. "Please, it's just not funny, okay?"

"You think this is a joke, mé srdce (my heart)? Ach, můj drahý (Oh, my dear)," Pietro says in a whisper and moves closer to you again, his hand reaching for yours as he hands you the roses.

"I'm not messing with you. I tease you sometimes, but my feelings are real. I haven't messed around with any women in years—minus that mistletoe kiss—" he rubs his nape, mentioning the time you'd caught him and an office girl kissing at last Christmas party. He didn't mean for that to happen, and even less for you to see him. 

You're really trying to understand him now but nothing is making sense. "You have feelings for me?" You whisper, your eyes wide. You feel like you've entered some alternative reality. "You can't just say things like that now, Pietro. It's not fair."

His expression turns more serious than you've ever seen him. "I'm not saying this lightly, Y/n. I know I've been a jerk to you, but I was a stupid kid who didn't know how to express his feelings and then it was too late because you hated me. But, I have always cared for you, miláček (darling). I really have."

You move back, your eyes round, processing his words. All those years of childish teasing, all those petty arguments you'd had, and all the jealousy you've felt suddenly hit you like a train and you're left broken and bruised. He had feelings for you? You've been pushing him away because you were scared of how you felt about him.

"Why now? Why did you choose to tell me all this now?" you ask, shaking the roses in your hands as your voice trembles.

Pietro exhales. "Because when Wanda mentioned me how worried you were about me, I realized how much I need you in my life. Need you beside me. I didn't want to hide my feelings anymore— and I picked those flowers wanting to confess anyway. I want to be with you, Y/n. No more games, just us."

You feel a mix of relief and fear. Deep down, you've wanted to hear this for so long, but it's as terrifying as you'd imagined. You look up at him, walking in closer and you can hear your heart in your throat when you run a hand in his silver hair, holding him and pulling him down to meet his lips.

You've convinced yourself this would be confirmation. Confirmation that this was a bad fucking idea. Instead, his kiss is intoxicating and it makes your mind go all fuzzy. Of course, he'd be good at this, he'd been quite the whore—your thought is interrupted by Pietro pulling you in closer and deepening the kiss, his hand finding your hip. 

You gasp, leaning up into him as the world as you'd known it crashes around you. 

"Sakra, Princezna (Damn, Princess)," Pietro murmurs into your lips, holding you close. "This is so much better than I imagined."

"You imagined this?" you say, sounding more teasing than you'd anticipated as you're left breathless from his kisses. 

Pietro hums. "All the damn time," he admits and kisses you again.

After more kisses, he finally pulls away. "So, is that a yes? You want be with me too?" he asks hopefully and you look into his eyes, taking in his excitement. You don't dare even think of breaking his heart as anyway, your swells at the mere thought of being his. 

You nod but then smirk and pull him back in for a kiss, your hand fisting his shirt, "Kiss me some more and then I'll tell you."

And he does just that.

[chuellas]

Midnight City | Growing up with Chuuya and then being separated for years leaves a stain on your relationship that’s hard to navigate. Luckily, maybe unluckily, you have a shared ally (if that’s what you can call him) to help steer the two of you in the right direction, even if he’s the worst driver in the world.

⤷ Ft. Nakahara Chuuya

Warnings | Fem!reader, former Sheep!reader -> ADA!reader, mentions if alcohol, possible minor spoilers for SB and Age 15, use if the terms “Doll” and “Baby” and “Belladonna”, a lot of cussing and name calling, depictions of anxiety/insecurity, edited but who knows how well LOLOLOL, WC: 6.3k (yes i did add that extra scene 💀💀)

A/N | HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY HUSBAND EVERYONE WISH CHUUYA THE HAPPIEST OF BIRTHDAYS PLS I PROMISE HE DESERVES IT 💖💖 I am actually so incredibly excited and nervous for this one because this is our official introduction to my beloved Sheep!reader who is very dear to me. I hope you guys love her as much as I do :((

“When’s Chuuya’s birthday?” The party goes quiet as everyone stares between you and the ginger with caution.

You were all gathered together for Yuan’s birthday, she’s the first one since your own birthday, which turned out miserably. You, Shirase, Chuuya, and a couple of the other Sheep that are your age put together this small party in one of the semi-destroyed buildings that was left behind in Suribachi City. Everything had been going well and even Chuuya seemed to be having a good time, which was a feat since he never really seemed to let himself relax.

Yuan likes to say that for some reason your presence puts him at a certain ease he’s never seemed to be able to reach before knowing you.

You’ve always waved off the notion with a dismissive laugh. Surely, it can’t be all your doing, that’s ridiculous and whenever you would push Yuan for her reasoning she would always just shrug in the most irritating manner that sometimes almost set you off and left your blood boiling irrationally. However, her reaction leads you to believe that she doesn’t even know the logic behind it herself and that was enough to settle it for you. She was simply incorrect.

But now, you think maybe her words hold some weight to them as Chuuya looks at you with an amused grin while everyone else looks like they’re ready to run at the drop of a dime in anticipation of a negative reaction from him. “C’mon guys, loosen up, she didn’t know any better. I don’t have one.”

Oh…Now you understand the hesitation coming from the others.

That’s right, you remember him mentioning that he doesn’t recall much about his past, before the Sheep took him in. His life didn’t really start for him until he was eight years old. He never told you this part himself, but according to Shirase, Chuuya didn’t even know what a piece of bread was. The only thing he clung onto was his name and the number of years he’s been on this earth, all other knowledge had to be relearned. 

The thought always fills you with a certain sadness that you can’t quite seem to place, or even begin to explain. It’s certainly not the same sadness that you’ve been plagued with since the incident. This one is different from grief, it’s an empathetic type of sadness. Not pity, but maybe something akin to it?

“I- Sorry, I forgot…” You suddenly feel embarrassed at your confession, something as important as Chuuya not remembering a single thing about himself shouldn’t be so easily forgotten.

Chuuya is impatient, you’ve caught on to that quickly. He is outwardly annoyed when someone wastes his time or makes him repeat himself. But he’s never been that way with you, he is always patient with you and you’ve never understood it. You noticed it for the first time pretty early on in your friendship with the three slightly older sheep. Maybe Yuan had noticed it too and that is what she always meant when she said you put him at ease.

Just as you expect, Chuuya shakes his head and waves you off with a light hearted smile. “Nah, you don’t gotta apologize. We usually celebrate my birthday in December. The twenty seventh was when I was found by these guys. So it’s my…Substitute birthday. At least I guess that’s what you’d call it.”

You perk up at the mention of a “substitute” birthday, the idea of the Sheep still celebrating him for a day filling you with an unfamiliar warmth that you decide to ignore for the time being. Chuuya works hard for all of you, constantly on patrol and taking down any goons that try to fill the pockets of any trafficking ring. It’s common to find in Suribachi City, desperate men snatching children just to get a quick buck. Chuuya found that part of his duties the funnest, especially if it’s the Port Mafia’s ring he’s messing with.

Most of the Sheep had a hatred for the Port Mafia in common, but it was still something you and Chuuya have been able to bond over.

“Talking about someone else’s birthday on my own is illegal. Major party foul you guys!” Yuan chimes in and instantly the atmosphere goes back to the way it had been previously.

You let out a snort at the pink haired girl’s outburst and roll your eyes with a smile plastered on your face. You pretend to listen to whatever tangent Yuan decides to go on about her own birthday and the plan she has for the rest of this party. You try your best to pay attention and take her seriously, but you find yourself distracted. Your eyes keep flickering back over to the ginger and in the back of your mind, you’re wondering if there’s any way you could ever figure out when Chuuya’s real birthday is. 

Dazai is pissing you off, his usual obnoxious persona amped up all the way to a ten today. It started with a seemingly innocent little question that he now refuses to answer after seeing your puzzled expression. His snide remarks all day are making you want to rip your hair out and shove your foot in his mouth because he’s clearly getting off on your utter confusion, something he never seems to elicit out of you so easily. So, when he is able to get a rise out of you he seems to revel in it, proud of himself. He’s been relentless the entirety of the day, probably to use it as an excuse to not do any of his paperwork that’s been piling up. 

You just need to get him to shut the hell up if he isn’t going to clue you in on what he’s been going on about all day. You have to keep reminding yourself that you’re at the agency and murder or maiming is usually frowned upon — depending on who you ask at least. However, as of right now, you don’t think you could handle a lecture from Kunikida on staining the carpet with blood or a disapproving look from Fukuzawa.

You sigh heavily when the same annoying presence once again sits itself next to you. Speak of the Devil and he shall appear, “I can’t believe you haven’t figured out what today is!” Dazai sings out, clearly pleased with your ire.

“It's Tuesday, April 29th, Dazai. I told you the first time you asked, and again when you asked later in the morning and again after I came back from my quick patrol. My answer has not changed. Clearly I'm missing something that you aren’t telling me. So if you aren’t going to, could you please—for the love of God—leave me alone and go do your work?” You swear your eye twitches as his eyebrows shoot up and mouth forms into a circle in what is clearly faux shock.

Your hunch that he’s mocking you is solidified when he lets out a scandalized gasp. “Don’t tell me…did that slug never tell you what today is?”

Your stomach drops. This is no longer funny, nor just annoying, your stomach churns at the mention of Chuuya. This is just plain cruel of Dazai at this point, somehow he always manages to show off just how much closer he is with both you and Chuuya than the two of you are with each other after all these years apart from one another. Dazai knows, you have never told the brunette how you feel but you know that he’s aware that you see Chuuya as more than just a childhood friend. What you don’t know is that Dazai is also aware of the way Chuuya feels similarly about you as you do about him. 

The former mafioso’s intention isn’t to be cruel, it’s to gently guide you and Chuuya in the right direction. The moment you gave him that puzzled look, he had texted Chuuya calling him an imbecile. Of course the executive blew up his phone with several texted insults and expletives but the brunette was happily ignoring all of them.

Dazai’s attempts in steering you in the right direction were futile, failing miserably — his definition of steering definitely being skewed, he’s admittedly never been a very good driver.

The detective frowns in an uncharacteristically serious manner and then whispers out, “Do you really not know?” so softly, almost as if you weren’t supposed to hear it at all and the words confuse you so much that you don’t even know how to respond to that.

So instead, here you are, wallowing in self pity. It stings to think there is something you aren’t privy to, something clearly important, just because of how much closer Dazai seems to be with the ginger than you are. You can’t help the insecurity that begins to bubble up inside of you. It’s an ugly, gross feeling, a feeling of envy. You want to throw up at the thought of admitting to yourself that you’re jealous of Dazai.

You swallow your pride, as well as various other emotions related to the color green, mustering up the courage to finally utter the questions you know Dazai has been waiting for you to ask. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about. Can you please tell me what today’s importance is and what it has to do with Chuuya?”

You don’t know why you hadn’t noticed it before — Dazai was previously tense but the moment you ask him the question to explain himself, he seems to relax. The change is so slight that if you hadn’t been watching him so intently and didn’t know him better, you definitely would not have caught it at all. Knowing him he is probably relieved that he didn’t have to give up the information before you conceded. The thought kind of pisses you off though, because that means whether you gave in and asked or not, he always planned on telling. You know Dazai has his suicidal tendencies, but you’ve always been under the impression that he didn’t care for dying by your hands

“I’m glad you asked!” His tone is overly excited, back to being eccentrically unserious, and you roll your eyes at his theatrics. “Today is a very special day because…” 

Dazai claps his hands together and sings out, “Today is Chuuya’s birthday!”

You sit there, dead panned as you stare at dazai. Maybe murder isn’t that bad of an option after all and you shouldn’t let Dazai dictate whether he dies by your hands or not, that’s not really his decision to make anyways. What's a little scolding from Kunikida? Compared to the daily headaches you get from the brunette sitting next to you it was nothing.

You’re baffled, completely gobsmacked, for three reasons.

The first reason being why the hell would dazai have kept this pertinent information from you? He knows how you feel about Chuuya, he was regrettably the person you went to when you came to the devastating realization that you still had feelings for the now Port Mafia executive. He also knows how important birthdays are to you, so he should have told you sooner. Hell, the eccentric detective should have told you several days earlier. You suppose there’s nothing you can do about that now and should be happy that he didn’t let you go the entire day being ignorant.

The second reasoning is a little trickier. Why didn’t you know today was Chuuya's birthday? Yes, it’s true he had no idea when his birthday was back when you were both still a part of the Sheep. So, the question is when did he figure it out? How the hell did Dazai know when it was and you didn’t. Had it really never come up in conversation? You’re sure you would have remembered it if it had because that’s a pretty important detail, although you did manage to forget he didn’t have a birthday all those years ago, but you think you should get a pass for that considering those were different circumstances. You remember the date December twenty-seventh, the day he used to celebrate as his birthday. The day you have celebrated with him in the past. Dazai knowing Chuuya’s real birthday is just another glaring example showing just how little you know each other now in adulthood.

The last reason is what has you scrambling out of your seat and checking your phone desperately to find last minute gifts. Suddenly all knowledge you have of the Port Mafia executive vanishes. What are his favorite things? His favorite food, his favorite wine, his favorite flowers, even his favorite movie. All of the things you can possibly think of being easily obtainable escape you at this moment. 

You think you might actually cry. 

Dazai, who was watching in amusement, furrows his brow in slight concern as he watches the way your anxiety spiking manifests physically. He can see it in your unfocused eyes — you’re spiraling. Something in the pit of his stomach twists. Guilt, most likely. He was just trying to have a bit of fun with you but now he has to face the consequences of his actions and suddenly he’s not having fun anymore. The realization that you hadn’t just forgotten the slug’s birthday but never even knew when it is decidedly not funny.

Dazai has forgotten one crucial detail, he forgot how important birthdays truly are to you. Which he thinks is so featherheaded of him when you had made his birthday last year only one out of a handful he’s ever actually enjoyed. Maybe he was being greedy. Maybe even a little spiteful, he had a penchant for doing things out of spite, one trait that has stuck with him even now that he’s with the ADA. Maybe he didn’t want Chuuya to experience the same thing, he didn’t really deserve it after everything he put you through, but then again neither did Dazai—not really and especially not after he kept so much from you when you had trusted him.

“I can't believe you, Dazai. I really thought you couldn’t surprise me anymore. Why the hell would you wait until the very last minute to tell me that?” You curse under your breath as you simultaneously search up vintage wines that are up to chuuya’s taste and begin to pack up your belongings to leave for the day. You groan as you realize all of the wines are wildly expensive. “Jesus Christ, how well does the mafia pay? These prices can cover at least a year's worth of groceries.”

The cheapest of the labels you’re looking at are a mis-batch from a few decades ago that had been bottled incorrectly and mislabeled. Even then they are still well out of your price range and probably taste awful. Sure you have savings but you aren’t even sure of what type of red wine Chuuya prefers. 

You have to switch tactics, but before you can, Dazai snatches the phone out of your hand and starts pushing you towards the exit of the agency. “Dazai- what-!?” 

“Hush, Belladonna. I’m going to help you out just this once.” You struggle to keep your feet planted but it’s no use because Dazai has always been deceptively strong.

You glance back at him over your shoulder with an exasperated expression, “What have I told you about call-“

“Yeah yeah. Let me have this. I am helping you after all.” He waves his hand dismissively and you narrow your eyes back at him, because he says that as if he isn’t the reason you’re in this mess to begin with. “We'll be back later Kunikida-kun.”

“Dazai- what the hell- where are you taking me?!” Dazai ignores your protests and shoves you out the door.

Chuuya has been checking his phone almost obsessively all day. He's not even sure what it is exactly that he’s waiting for. The executive has received birthday wishes from everyone that’s already aware of what today is. So why the hell was he still hoping for one more?

As if he didn’t just convince himself no one else is going to text or call him, Chuuya picks up his phone from the center console in his car and checks for any new notifications. The ginger chuckles humorlessly at himself. It’s almost pathetic how worked up he is over a single birthday greeting from a single person. He hadn’t even told you when his birthday was—he’s actually pretty sure you’re not even aware that Chuuya now knows when his birthday is. So, why would you just happen to know? 

Maybe that damn bandaged freak clued you in on what today was. Chuuya scoffs at the ridiculous thought, as if. He climbs out of his car shaking his head. Dazai is ever the self serving bastard, there is no way he would do Chuuya a favor like that. Still, there was a pang of hope because despite Dazai being Dazai, the ginger was well aware of just how much you mean to the detective and he thought just maybe that mackerel would have told you as a favor to you.

The trek up from the parking garage to his apartment is agonizing. He couldn’t help himself, he’s been checking his notifications methodically every thirty seconds. Each time he’s disappointed by the absence of your contact icon and name. 

Chuuya really only has himself to blame, he should just put aside his damn pride and give you a call to ask for you to come over and spend what’s left of his birthday together, but he can’t seem to bring himself to do that.

It’s so pathetic.

The elevator dings and the executive steps out only to instantly realize something is off. Chuuya is quick to activate his ability, the smell of food being cooked and the noise of pots and pans being sifted through in his kitchen instantly have him on high alert. How the hell did someone get into his apartment? This complex is a high security building with Chuuya not being the only executive nor the only person from the Port Mafia living in this building. 

Chuuya quietly rounds the corner to his kitchen, careful not to make a single sound as he uses his ability to just barely hover over the floorboards, fully ready to subdue whoever found it smart to enter his home without permission when he recognizes the figure humming over a pan of food. 

“God damnit, Doll, I thought you were an intruder- the hell are ya doin’ here?!” You let out a startled yelp and Chuuya quickly releases his ability not wanting to scare you more than he already has.

You stare frozen at the ginger wide eyed and mouth agape for a few moments. Chuuya watches as your mouth flaps open and close while you try to form a sentence but your words seem to get stuck in your throat after the start he gave you. Before you can force out an explanation, your timer goes off and you perk up. Chuuya can barely keep up as you don his oven mitts and begin to pull something out of the oven. You move so naturally around Chuuya's kitchen that he can almost imagine this was just a regular thing you did with him. 

The executive can feel his face heat up as he lets his imagination run wild and he tries desperately to shake the thought off altogether but the sound of you humming and still running around his kitchen with ease is not helping.

The gravity manipulator clears his throat and tries to coax any information out of you so he wasn’t so damn confused. “How the hell did you even get in here?”

“Ah…Well…You see…” You finally stop to look at him, finally finding your voice, you point your spatula at one of his bar stools where a tan trench coat is draped over it.

Chuuya glares at the article of clothing, almost practicalling snarling at it. “Don’t tell me you let that freak roam around my apartment?”

“Who do you take me for? No, absolutely not. He said he was just going to the bathroom.” 

Chuuya doesn’t seem satisfied by that answer. “How long ago was that?”

A look of realization crosses your face and you both know what your answer is going to be. Too long, he has been gone for too long and probably started snooping around just like Chuuya was worried about. One look at your face and the ginger knows that you’ve come to the same conclusion. You’ve become too trusting of the brunette, Chuuya knows that you knew better, that you probably should have kicked dazai out the moment he had served his purpose of getting you into this apartment. Although Chuuya does know better than anyone else just how convincing Dazai can be, it’s hard to argue with him.

You stand there sheepishly, guilt written all over your face and Chuuya lets out a sigh of defeat, because how the hell is he supposed to blame you for Dazai’s schemes? “It’s fine. I’ll look for him in a minute. First, you never told me what you’re doing here.”

“Ah- I wanted to cook you something special. You’re always doing the cooking and as much as I appreciate and adore your food, I thought I’d return the favor today.” You fiddle with the oven mitts in your hands, twisting them anxiously and the sight makes Chuuya’s heart swell so suddenly that he has to look away before he bursts. “I also got you a present…But you don’t get to open that until after dinner.”

It’s funny how one small gesture from you makes Chuuya’s worries disappear in an instant. “Why would you do all this for me?”

The executive doesn’t want to get his hopes up but he’s pretty sure he has an idea as to why you’re doing all this. Why Dazai helped you break into his apartment. Why you’re putting together a home cooked meal for him. You know, Dazai must have actually done Chuuya a favor and told what today’s significance is. No, that’s not it, the detective did it for you. Either way, the ginger is grateful for it.

“What do you mean? It’s your birthday, isn’t it?” You tilt your head at him in puzzlement, like it’s simply the most obvious thing in the world.

Chuuya swears you steal all his breath with just one look. His chest tightens even more than it did previously and a fond smile creeps up his cheeks and settles in his bicolored eyes. He probably looks like a fool, but he just can’t really bring himself to care how he looks right now. His focus zeroed in on you. 

The ginger manages to let out an astonished chuckle. “It is, yeah. It’s my birthday.”

Chuuya can’t help how elated he is, this is what he’s wanted all day. He couldn’t bring himself to just outright tell you it was his birthday, he didn’t want it to seem like an obligation. But, god, did he want to hear the words fall from your gorgeous lips. Your voice drips in honey like always as you softly speak the greeting.

“Happy birthday, Chuuya.” Your smile is warm, igniting a fire inside of him and creating a heat that pools in his chest.

Chuuya lets out another chuckle, this one far more breathier than the last one, his cheeks hurting from just how widely he’s smiling. “So, I guess Dazai told you then? Thank you, Doll. Whatcha’ makin’?”

“Yeah, Dazai told me, he thought I already knew and just forgot…He also told me that after all these years, your favorite food is still rice?” You scrunch up your nose at him. “That’s the lamest thing I’ve ever heard by the way. C’mon Chuuya. rice? After all these years of being with the Port Mafia, you’d think you’d have a better palate than that.”

Chuuya lets out an almost giddy laugh. He can’t help himself, having you here doing something like this for him makes him feel light. It’s much like a feather floating, being carried by a gentle breeze and what a soothing breeze you are. More than just a breath of fresh air.  But it’s not just like a feather, it’s also like the light that shines down on someone, a ray of sunshine blanketing one in warmth. That’s what you are, what you have always been to Chuuya. 

He’s never been able to explain it, he’s never been able to explain why you’ve made him feel this way since day one but regardless of that, you just do.

This whole scenario is all so domestic, although Chuuya would much rather be making the food with you, he’s also not going to complain about you making him dinner. Maybe next time you come over, because no way is this going to be the last time you come over. Maybe you two can cook one of your favorite dishes next time. The idea alone makes his stomach flutter, somehow the thought makes him feel even giddier than he was when you told him what you were doing for him and why.

Chuuya can’t keep denying the power you hold over him anymore. 

He shrugs at you, a smile still plastered on his face. “It's diverse. There's a lot you can do with rice. I bet we aren’t just having rice, am I right?”

“Well…no. Of course we aren’t. That would be psychotic. Eating plain white rice for your birthday dinner? Absolutely not. I'm making Oyakodon. I hope that’s ok…” Chuuya watches you intently as your expression shifts back into an anxious frown. 

The ginger thinks he can figure out what the sudden change in your demeanor is about. You know that he’s used to fine dining, being in the Port Mafia it’s common for meetings with allies to be hosted over dinner. You’re worried about your cooking not fitting to the standards of fine dining. He understands your hesitation but rice is not a dish someone can really mess up.

The executive watches you as your hands falter in plating both of your meals. You had finished cooking not long after he entered the apartment, solely focusing on getting everything mixed and prepared. It all smells absolutely divine. He can’t imagine he won’t enjoy the meal you’ve made and even if he didn’t like it, he would never tell you so.

Chuuya walks over to you and presses his gloved finger between your brows and rubs it in circles to massage the crinkles away. “Don’t worry so much. It smells exquisite, I love Oyakodon. I'm sure it’ll taste delicious. Do you need any help?”

“No. Not from you, this is your birthday dinner. No work for you—Well, actually maybe some work for you. Can you go get dazai? I made him a to-go plate. He tried to invite himself to dinner and this was the only thing I could think of to make him happy and still get him to leave.” You pick up a disposable tupperware container filled to the brim with the most delicious looking and smelling food Chuuya has ever laid his eyes on. 

You’re too good to that lazy bastard.

The ginger chuckles and shakes his head. “Sometimes I think you spoil that bastard too much, y’know that?”

You hum, barely listening to him while shooing him away. “Yeah, yeah. Now shoo. Go get him so we can kick him out.” 

Chuuya puts his hand up in defense as he walks out of the room to find the unwanted guest. His first stop is both hallway bathrooms but, just as chuuya predicted, no sack of bones to be found in either. Naturally the executive checks his own room next. Empty, again and he’s starting to wonder if the brunette is even still here. He moves on to the next room, a guest bedroom that’s been collecting dust for a while now.

The executive doesn’t even need to walk through the threshold to know that he’s found Dazai finally. The lanky figure laying in his extra room has him breathing out a sigh of relief. It's strange to find dazai, of all people, sleeping so soundly. Chuuya still has half a mind to rudely wake up the detective as he notices the unopened expensive bottle of whiskey being tightly held in his clutches, clinging onto it like a child would with a stuffed animal.

The gravity manipulator lets out another sigh, this time in resignation. If it wasn’t for dazai, you wouldn’t have known about chuuya’s birthday. He supposes that he could cut the damn mackerel a break just this once, God only knows how long it’s been since Dazai has gotten some decent rest. The ginger still can’t help but to roll his eyes as he closes the door, only leaving it slightly ajar, knowing Dazai doesn’t care for the dark.

He turns on his heel to make his way back to you only to start at the sight of your figure.

“What was that about spoiling him?” Your tone is teasing but the soft smile on your face is enough to tell Chuuya you appreciate his decision in letting the brunette be.

What the hell were you doing to him? You were making him go soft, normally he wouldn’t think twice about barreling into that room and snatching the bottle of alcohol from that bastard's hands and kicking him out. Now he was letting him get away with it because of your fondness for Dazai.

He wonders if you realize just how much of a hold you have on him, you could easily bring the Port Mafia executive to his knees if you wanted to.

Chuuya would let you get away with it too.

He clicks his tongue and looks away in embarrassment at being caught. “Yeah, well who knows when that jackass last slept. It would take me forever to wake him up and kick him out. Easier to just leave him there.”

You smile at him in amusement and the ginger can feel the way his cheeks heat up, a blush dusting his cheeks and ears in a reddish-pink hue. He wants to say he hates this, the way you make him feel like that fifteen year old boy all over again. He wants so badly to deny it to himself but he can’t bring himself to do it. He enjoys the nostalgic feeling he gets when he’s with you. He loves getting to watch you now as an adult and still have some of the same mannerisms you had back then. He loves that he gets to see you grow with him again once again.

He loves you.

Chuuya thinks he always has. It would explain why you made him feel so comfortable. He can’t believe it took him this long to figure it out.

The ginger shakes off the thought, not ready to tell you what he just discovered quite yet, so instead he rolls his eyes at your amusement and starts pushing you back towards the dining room. “Forget it. C’mon, let’s go eat that delicious meal you prepared.”

“Okay, okay. Whatever the birthday boy wants, he gets.” 

Chuuya almost trips over his own feet at the notion, his mind wandering to places it really ought to not wander to. He’s sailing across dangerous waters, his mind on the verge of drowning if he doesn't tread carefully. You’re partially to blame though. Wording it in such a way that you had to know just how suggestive it sounds. 

But as he looks over at you, your smile is warm and your cheeks rosier than usual.

Oh. You did mean yourself, but Chuuya something in his chest tightens and he thinks it means something deeper than just his previous inappropriate thoughts. How deplorable, Chuuya is truly a bastard that doesn’t deserve someone like you but he’s also selfish and doesn’t know when to stifle an impulse this strong. 

“Really? Anything he wants?” Chuuya’s breath hitches when your response is almost instantaneous.

You look up at him earnestly and repeat yourself, this time it comes out softer as you nod your head. “Anything he wants.”

A year later you lead a blindfolded Chuuya to the roof of the nicest hotel in Yokohama, far more prepared than last year. You made Dazai help with putting this whole thing together. You both spent a month planning this party and it was going to be perfect. Everyone Chuuya cared about was here. You even pulled some strings to invite a couple of old friends.

You smile proudly at your hard work paying off and you haven’t even gotten to the best part: Chuuya’s reaction. 

“Okay, stay right here and no peeking until I say so, got it?” You let go of the executive to join the crowd waiting quietly to greet the guest of honor. Dazai has made himself front and center, slinking his arm around your shoulder and leaning into you with a satisfied smile.

Your nerves overtake you for just a split second, much like they did the year previously when you cooked for him for the first time—which he ended up loving and now when he’s asked what his favorite food is he always answers by saying it’s anything you cook for him. Then you hear it, a reassuring chuckle comes from the person you were always meant to be with, light as a feather like it always has been when he’s with you. Your cheeks flare up at the noise, knowing that it’s a side of him only you really get to see. A rare sight for anyone else that’s here. 

His smile is relaxed and he tilts his head, somehow looking directly at you whilst still being blindfolded. “The last time you surprised me on my birthday, you got me a bottle of wine that you definitely couldn't afford on that detective salary of yours, Baby. I’m kinda scared for your wallet to see what it is this year.”

Your cheeks heat up even more and Dazai has to stifle a giggle of his own. He had been the one to loan you the money for the ridiculously expensive bottle of wine. Where he got the money, you have no idea and frankly you think you’re okay with that. He only let you pay him back for half of it, he claimed he was letting the rest of it slide as his way of making it up to you for not telling you about the ginger’s birthday sooner. Who were you to argue with that logic? Especially when you fed him that night too.

“Just take the blindfold off, would you?” You try to sound annoyed but you’re too excited for him to see it all that your voice comes out a little too eager.

Time seems to slow down just a little when Chuuya reaches up to lift up the blindfold. At the same time all of the lights are being turned on and fireworks are being set off, courtesy of that one lemon guy who’s name you can never seem to remember, his eccentric appearance is always far too distracting for you to ever pay attention to his name. The sky is lit with various color combinations and you all shout surprise at the gravity manipulator. 

You watch him with a wide smile as he lights up with almost a childlike glee at the multitude of love being cast his way. This is the first time in a long time that he has actually looked younger than his—still young—age. His bicolored eyes twinkling in delight as they take in everything from the decorations to the fireworks to the overwhelming amount of people that have shown up for him. 

The moment he sets his eyes on you it’s all over. It’s almost as if you can feel the fireworks igniting in your stomach with the way he is looking at you in utter adoration, knowing exactly who put in the most work to make this happen. He’s moving towards you before you can even react—before you can even comprehend what’s happening he’s right in front of you, sweeping you off of your feet and twirling you around while laughing like an idiot in love. You didn’t think moments like this would ever exist for someone like you, they’re usually reserved for fairytales and happy endings, but maybe this was the start of your own.

Maybe after everything, you deserve this.

Everyone naturally disperses to give you and Chuuya your space before socializing and wishing him a happy birthday properly. 

The ginger is holding your cheeks in his hands gently, still smiling brightly at you. “You did all of this for me?”

You smile at him just as warmly and nod your head. He lets out an incredulous laugh, He scans his surroundings once again, this time noting the people in attendance. His gaze falters when he notices two figures anxiously watching from the edge of the party. Eyes widening his head whips back over to you.

“Is that-”

You nod your head again. “Yeah. I tracked them down for you. You wanna go say hi? Because I definitely would love to catch up.”

Chuuya lets out another laugh but this one cracks in the middle, clearly overtaken by emotion and you think he knows he’s about to burst because he leans down and connects his forehead with your own — suddenly it’s just the two of you standing in the middle of this rooftop. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, y’know that? I couldn’t ask for a more perfect gift than your love. I love you so much.”

“I love you, Carrot top. Always.”

RBs are always appreciated <3

[briefinquiries]

Tyler Owens x Reader: Hell or High Water

Request: Anonymous said, “i love your writing so much !!!! i was wondering if i could request your take on the twisters scene towards the end when tyler’s leg gets stuck under the debris in the town square ?? like reader is the one running over to him completely worried & stressed because her man is hurt "

Word count: 4.7k

Warnings: tornado, blood, injury mention

A/N: I'm so sorry I've been posting so infrequently, but here's a little tyler angst / hurt / comfort to brighten your sunday (did not proof read so pls don't hold me responsible for the inevitable mistakes). Anyway, comments / replies are so appreciated, enjoy!!

The storm rolls in fast. One minute, you and Tyler are running through the streets of El Reno, trying to help by corralling people to safety, and the next, you’re watching as the storm, which has nearly tripled in size, barrels towards you and everyone you’ve ever cared about. 

Tyler’s screaming your name– he wants you to move. But it’s like what they say about car crashes– no matter how frightening, you can’t seem to look away from the monstrosity of a storm. The dark clouds are swirling fiercely, destroying everything in their wake. The rain picks up– fat drops fall, soaking your clothes. The tornado is spinning faster and faster, moving closer and closer. 

It’s mesmerizing– in a terrifying, deadly sort of way. 

The winds are whipping wildly, blowing debris all over the place. Before you can react, a large chunk of vinyl siding flies straight towards you. The corner of it nicks your temple, you feel the skin slice open with a sharp tear, followed by the sensation of warm liquid trickling down your face. 

“Shit!” you gasp, tucking your face into your elbow moments too late.

Another one whips by before you start to back pedal. 

You spin around just in time to see an entire fucking car drop from the sky in the space between you and Tyler. It lands on its back bumper before starting to fall backwards.  

“Tyler!” you scream, knowing he probably can’t hear above the roaring winds. 

With one more gust, the car begins to fall, sending up a wild cloud of dust in its wake. 

As soon as you’re done shielding your eyes from it, you run towards the vehicle– now resting upside down on its crushed roof. 

“Tyler!” you cry. 

This time, you hear a faint groan in response. You follow the sound until you see Tyler laying flat on his back– one leg crushed underneath the hood of the car and a pile of broken chunks of pavement. 

He’s attempting (and failing) to push it off from himself. 

“Tyler,” you say again– his name seemingly the only word your lips are able to form. This time, he hears you above the chaos of everything else. His eyes meet yours– except, instead of their usual calm, they’re filled with terror.  

“You gotta get out of here–” he says. “Go–”

But you’re already running towards him. You know you can’t lift a fucking car– but some delusional part of you hopes that adrenaline might give you momentary super strength or fucking something to help you lift this thing. You try to grip the front bumper, but it’s wet from the rain. Your hands slip and slide no matter how hard you focus. 

“Just hang on,” you plead. 

The car’s tilted right over his leg. You try again– lifting as hard as you can. But even with a good grip, you know it’s too heavy.

The car doesn’t budge. 

“You need to go–” he says. 

But you ignore him– all you can focus on is moving the damn car… even slightly would do– just enough so that he could slide his leg out. 

“Baby,” Tyler’s using his gentle voice– the one he uses when he wants you to butter you up so you do as he says. But you can’t– 

“Y/N, you have to leave–”  

“Shut up!” you scream, eyes blurring as tears and rain both start to cloud your vision. 

“Please,” Tyler says. His hand grips your wrist and you finally look at him desperately. “Please, you have to get inside.”

“I’m not leaving you,” you sob, the thought too unimaginable to even consider. “I’m not going anywhere without you!” 

Using every single ounce of strength left in your body, you lift again. And to your absolute shock, the car starts to lift– except… it isn’t you moving the damn thing. It’s the winds picking up. 

But it doesn’t matter what makes it move, as soon as Tyler feels the weight start to lift from his leg he slides out from under the car and scoots backwards against the pavement. 

Once he’d free, you dare to glance up at the sky– the storm is no longer coming. 

It’s here.

“C’mon,” you say, reaching for Tyler to help him to his feet. “Are you okay?”

Tyler nods– and willingly takes your hand as he gets to his feet. You’re surprised, but relieved, that he’s moving okay as the two of you hurry across the street towards the school that people had started taking cover in. 

“Where–” you pant as soon as you’re through the front doors. But neither you or Tyler had ever been to this school– so how were you supposed to know where to go? 

“Basement,” Tyler pants, nodding towards the nearest staircase. 

With your hand still clutching his, you let him guide you towards the double doors. As soon as you push it open, you see an array of other people huddled in the hall. 

“C’mon,” Tyler motions towards the stairs. “Go down– into the basement.”

You and him lead the way– moving as fast as you can into the first classroom on the basement level. It’s some sort of recreational room with open spaces and only a few desks scattered around the room. 

“Get down,” Tyler says. “Against the wall.” He moves his hand to your waist and helps lower you to the ground where you quickly lay flat on the ground. 

“Cover your head,” he instructs.  

“Tyler–” you call for him, but after only a moment, you feel the warmth of his body beside you, and then an arm cradling your head. He’s shielding your body with his own– 

And you don’t even have time to argue with it, because the building starts to shake. 

“Hang on,” he says in your ear. “I got you, we’re okay.”

The winds rip through the school, causing the building to tremble fiercely. Pieces of the ceiling start to fall around you– chunks of debris crashing to the floor. 

You’re pretty sure you scream at one point, but you can’t hear it above the roars of the wind. All you can do is stay low, just like Tyler told you to do, and focus on the way his weight feels on top of you. 

It’s enough to get you through it. Because within a few minutes, the winds die down and you can finally hear your breath as you pant for air. 

But even above your own gasp, you hear someone’s muffled voice murmuring something. You dare to open your eyes just as Tyler’s weight lifts off from you. The murmuring continues– this time, it’s accompanied by a gentle hand clutching your elbow. 

It’s Tyler, you remind yourself. Tyler’s here. Tyler’s safe. You both are. 

You let him help you to your feet. And when you finally get your bearings enough to look around, everyone else seems unharmed. People have cuts and bruises– but nothing that looks imminently life threatening. 

Suddenly, a hand cups your face, gently turning your head in the direction of Tyler. Concerned, watery eyes meet yours. Tyler’s studying you– making sure you’re not broken beyond repair. Finally, his voice comes into focus. 

“Y’alright?” he asks gently.

“I’m okay,” you manage to croak. “I’m okay–”

You wince as his thumb trails along the cut on your temple. “You’re hurt… We gotta get this looked at–”

Absent-mindedly, you reach your hand to your temple and touch where you’d been nicked. But maybe sliced was a better term– Tyler’s right, it’s bleeding steadily. When you pull your fingers away, they’re coated in blood.  

Suddenly dizzy, you move your arm and grip his shoulder, squeezing gently as if to check if he was really in front of you. 

“You’re okay. We’re okay. C’mon.”

“What about the others?” you pant. 

Tyler nods, tugging you towards the exit. “I didn’t see where they ended up, we’ll find them.”

You’re wobbly and unsure as you begin to walk towards the door, but Tyler’s hand gripping your elbow offers extra reassurance. 

Tyler has to put his weight against the door before it’ll open. There’s a pile of debris in front of it that he pushes to the side to make way for people to exit. Slowly, the pair of you make your way through the hallway and up the stairs to the first floor. 

You gasp when you see the damage– large chunks of the roof have been ripped off, displaying a gray, cloudy sky above. There’s random objects and piles of scrap lying in the halls. You and Tyler have to step over obstacles just to get to the exit door. This one opens with much more ease– making you sigh a breath of relief when you’re finally out in the open. 

Already there’s ambulances and cops arriving on the scene. 

Tyler nudges you towards one of the ambulance trucks. “Let’s get your head checked,” he insists. 

You’re foggy but still try to argue. 

“What about Lily and Dani? And Boone and Dex–”

“I know,” he says gently. “We’ll find ‘em, but you can’t even see with all that blood running in your eyes, so how about we get ya stitched up first, yeah?”

You want to argue– but in the end, you’re too exhausted. 

Tyler holds your hand the entire time you get checked out. The EMT shines a light in your eye– then makes you follow his finger back and forth. Meanwhile, something vicious pulses in the back of your skull. 

You try to be tough, but the second you see the needle the EMT pulls out, you start to get shaky. 

“You’re okay,” Tyler assures you, thumb grazing across the surface of your knuckles. “You’re okay, it’ll be quick.”

The EMT applies a local anesthetic, and luckily, you don’t really feel much after the first initial poke. But as soon as he’s done, he starts mumbling something about a concussion. 

Tyler nods before accepting the bag of ice offered. 

“Tyler! Y/N!” you hear a familiar voice holler. 

You exhale a breath of relief at the sight of Boone running through the rubble towards you. 

“Boone–” Tyler sighs, sounding equally relieved. He wraps an arm around his friend and claps his back gently. “You alright?” 

He nods. “I’m alright. Lily, Dani, and Dex too. We and about thirty others took cover in this old Irish lady’s store– she had a storm shelter out back believe it or not.” 

“You guys alright?” Boone’s eyes wander to you– in particular, the bandage on your forehead. 

“We’re okay,” Tyler says quickly. “Concussed– but she’s okay.” 

“Thank God for that. Y’all done here? RV’s beat to shit, but Lily found the truck. The windshield’s pretty shattered but I think she’ll drive.”

Tyler presses the ice the EMT had given him against your temple and nods. “Let’s get you home.”

…

“T?” 

“Hmm?” Tyler hums, he doesn’t take his eyes off you, although he’s painfully aware of his best friend watching him with a scrunched face through the rearview mirror. 

Normally Tyler always drove. But since you’d barely made it to the car without passing out beside him, he opted for the backseat. 

You’re currently curled into his side, breathing steadily with your eyes snapped shut.  

“Tyler–” 

“What, Boone?” 

“Was it your bad knee?”

“What?” he asks. 

“Don’t what me, T—” Boone frowns. “I was there the first time ya injured that knee. Is that the same one?”

Tyler shrugs. “Might be.”

Boone sighs. “C’mon T, why didn’t ya get it checked with the medics?” 

“Because it ain’t that important,” Tyler shoots back quietly, trying not to wake you up. “I gotta get her home first, she’s concussed and scared. And my stupid knee can wait.”

“T–”

Tyler clenches his jaw as he tries to straighten his knee. He can already feel it swelling underneath the fabric of his jeans. “I’ll get it checked tomorrow, Boone. Okay?” 

Boone shakes his head. “Fine. But for the record, you’re an idiot.” 

Tyler’s about to reply, but then he feels you shift in his arms. As he glances down in concern, he watches you sigh and nuzzle your head against his shoulder. 

When Boone pulls the truck in front of your place, you still haven’t budged. And truthfully, after the day you’d had, Tyler doesn’t want to wake you. So, he carefully scoops you up in his arms and slides out of the truck. As soon as he puts the pressure on his knee of your combined weight, he winces. 

“Jesus, T–” Boone says from the rolled down window. “You’re gonna make it worse.”

“I’m fine, Boone– just go back and get Dex, Dani, and Lily. Get ‘em home safe.”

Without looking back, he carefully carries you up the driveway and through the front door.  

His knee is screaming the entire way, but when he gently kicks the bedroom door open and deposits you in the bed, he breathes a sigh of relief. Tyler pulls off your muddy boots before pulling the blanket from the foot of the bed over you, then, he quietly slips out of the door– heading for the bathroom. 

Tyler grunts as he lowers himself to the edge of the tub, his right leg awkwardly sticking out as he attempts to straighten it. He hasn’t bothered to change– his jeans are still coated in dirt and blood. 

Tyler shifts to look at his knee and debates whether he should’ve listened to Boone and gone to get it checked out. He secretly had been hoping his knee would heal itself, but now, sitting in the bathroom, Tyler can feel that something was wrong. 

Sighing, Tyler slowly lifts himself from the tub to shed his jeans. He grimaces when he pulls the fabric over his swollen knee– but he cringes even harder when he sees how bruised the skin is. Tyler pokes around the bone a few times– trying to determine where the most damage is. Ultimately, he realizes it’s on the outer part– probably a torn ligament or two, if he has to guess. 

He’s only been in the bathroom for a few minutes when he hears the floorboards creak in the hall. Tyler’s attention shifts as there’s a soft knock on the door. 

“Tyler?” your voice is small. “Tyler, are you in there?”

He immediately grabs the pair of sweatpants he grabbed from the bedroom and stands up to tug them on. You’ve been through enough– Tyler doesn’t need you seeing his injury on top of everything else. 

Once he’s covered he pulls open the door– all pain in his knee forgotten about when he sees you standing in the hall, hair messy and shirt wrinkled underneath your crossed arms. 

“Hey baby, what’s wrong?” he asks. 

You take a deep breath, eyes watery as you gaze at him in what looks like disbelief. 

“I–” you begin. “I woke up and you were gone.”

Tyler can’t help but step closer to you. “I’m sorry, baby. I was just changing–”

You nod quickly. “It’s okay– I just…” your voice fades, like you can’t find the words. 

So, instead of speaking, you move closer to him and sneak your hands around his waist. After laying your head flat against his chest, Tyler winds his arms around your shoulders and tugs you closer. 

“Everything okay?” he murmurs against your hair. 

He feels you nod beneath him, but doesn’t miss the way you squeeze him just a bit tighter. 

The two of you stay like that until Tyler’s knee begins to ache too much to bear. He fights the pain for as long as he can, but eventually he has to pull away. 

“It’s been a long day, why don’t we get you back in bed?” he asks. 

Your voice is muffled against his chest when you reply. “Will you stay with me?”

Tyler tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear and smiles. “‘Course I will.”

…

Tyler doesn’t recall falling asleep. 

What he does recall is being startled awake in the dead of the night to a blood curdling scream. 

You thrash beside him harshly– flinching at something that isn’t there. 

“Tyler!” you scream out. “Tyler!”

Just as he turns to snap on the light, you kick your leg out– your foot colliding with the outside of his knee. 

Tyler hisses, unable to think for a moment as the pain shoots up his entire leg. You continue to cry out beside him desperately. After a moment, once the pain dulls just slightly, Tyler’s able to reach for you.  

The second his hand shakes your shoulder, your eyes snap open. They’re wide and wild as they search for him desperately. When you finally realize that it’s him who’s beside you, you take a shuddering breath. 

“You’re okay,” he says. Without waiting for you to respond, he reaches for you– gripping your shoulder and tugging you to his chest. You don’t hesitate before folding against him, breathing still rapid and panicky. 

You fist at the fabric of his shirt tightly, like you’re ensuring he won’t slip away. “I got you,” he whispers, pressing his lips against your hair. “You’re okay, I got you.”

“I was–” you pant. “I was back there– I couldn’t find you– you weren’t there–”

 “Sh,” Tyler hums. “I’m right here, baby. I got you.”

“You’re right here,” you mumble quietly, like you’re reassuring yourself. 

Eventually, your whimpers fade and your breathing steadies out. Tyler’s not sure how long it takes, but you fall back asleep curled against him while he runs his fingers through your hair. Tyler never falls back asleep, but you don’t move again until morning. 

…

Despite the throbbing in his knee and the pounding in his head demanding caffeine, Tyler doesn’t get up until he feels you stir beneath him. Your eyes flutter open, relief instantly washing over your features when you notice he’s still with you. 

“Morning,” you mumble sleepily. 

Tyler pretends like he hasn’t been awake for the last three hours and smiles. “Mornin’. How’re you feelin’ today? How’s the head?”

You shrug. “I’m okay, still a little shaken up I think.” 

Tyler nods understandingly. “Why don’t I go make us some coffee?”

Your lips spread into a small smile. “Okay,” you agree, untangling your limbs from his. “Thanks.”

Tyler carefully slid out of bed, trying to prevent you from seeing the obvious limp he was sporting– but the night had made his knee grow stiff. As soon as he was out the door, he hobbled down the stairs, hand gripping the railing the entire way. 

Almost as soon as Tyler makes it to the bottom of the stairs, he hears a knock at the door. He frowns at the unannounced visitor, wondering who would be stopping by before nine in the morning. 

Tyler hoists open the front door to see Boone standing on the other side. 

“Boone– hey,” Tyler says, caught off guard. “What’re you doin’ here?”

“Hey man, just checkin’ in.”

“What happened to phone calls?”

Boone frowns. “Man, I texted and called about a hundred times, I was just poppin’ in to make sure you weren’t dead.”

Tyler steps to the side to allow room for his friend to come inside. “Shit, sorry,” he says, recalling that he left his phone downstairs all night. “I just forgot to charge it. I’m hangin’ in there, you?”

Tyler closes the door behind Boone before limping back towards the kitchen. 

“Bullshit,” Boone says, eyeing Tyler’s gate. “Have you called the doc yet?” 

“I just got up–” Tyler starts as he grabs a few mugs from the cabinet. 

“Call right now– see if they can get ya in today.”

“Since when did you become such a mother hen?” Tyler grumbles, flicking on the coffee pot. “I’ll call today.”

“The earlier you call, the better chance they can get ya in. Unless you want to just go straight to the hospital–”

“Why would he need to go to the hospital?” Your voice makes Tyler’s head snap to the side. 

You’re standing in your sweats and one of his t-shirts with your arms crossed. You look between him and Boone carefully, like you’re studying the situation.  

“I don’t–” Tyler starts. 

“You didn’t tell her?” Boone interrupts. 

Tyler watches as a look of concern takes over your face. “Tell me what?”

“Boone,” Tyler says sharply in warning. “Don’t.”

“What is it?” you demand, looking at him for an explanation. 

“Nothing,” Tyler clears his throat. “I’m fine–”

“Tyler fucked up his knee yesterday,” Boone blurts out, eyes never leaving Tyler. 

Tyler sighs, eyes slowly falling shut now that his secret was out. “Jesus, Boone.”

“Sorry, T. But maybe she’ll convince you to get it checked,” he says. 

“What?” you say, looking down at Tyler’s covered knee. When no one responds, you blurt out, “Oh my God, the car– your leg was crushed–” 

Tyler rubs the back of his neck, purposely avoiding your gaze “Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you go to the medic…” your voice trails off in realization. “Because you were too busy helping me,” you answer your own question. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I’m sure it’s fine.”

“Let me see it.”

Tyler winces at your harsh tone. “What?”

“Your knee, let me see it.”

Tyler clears his throat. “Baby, it’s fine–”

“If it’s fine you’ll let me see it,” you say stubbornly. 

There was an awkward moment of silence as Tyler contemplated what to do. He’d looked at his knee the night before, and can only imagine how much worse it probably looks today. 

Finally he sighs, accepting his fate as neither you nor Boone back down. He grips the hem of his sweatpants and yanks the leg up, showing his bare knee. 

You gasp before hurrying over. “Tyler, what the fuck–”

How had you not noticed? You supposed yesterday in your daze you missed his limps or awkward steps– but you still think that you should have known– a damn car fell on him for God’s sake…

“Jesus, T,” Boone hisses. 

Tyler steals a glance. The discoloration is darker than last night, and the swelling has definitely gotten worse. Tyler curses himself for not at least throwing an ice pack on it the night before. 

“Oh my God, you carried me–” you blurt out. “What the hell, Tyler?”

“Y/N,” he pleads, sighing. But when he glances at you, he’s surprised to see tears forming in your eyes. 

“So it is the bad one,” Boone mutters after he notes the scar down the center of Tyler’s knee. 

You suck in a sharp breath. 

Tyler drops his pant leg and straightens his back. “Look, I will get it checked out, okay? I promise– it’s not a big deal.”

Tyler expects backlash, but there’s no response. Boone looks like he’s nodding, maybe he’s actually believing Tyler’s promise. But you’ve gone quiet, head down and arms crossed defensively, like you’re withdrawing into a shell. 

Boone turns towards you, finally averting the attention off from Tyler. “How’re you doin’? How’s the concussion?” he asks. 

You shrug. “I’m okay. A little headache, but nothing broken. You?”

Boone nods. “About the same. I’m gonna go check on Lily, then we’ll drop the truck back off later, will you make sure he gets to the doctor’s today?”

“I’m right here,” Tyler sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Yeah but I trust her more than you,” Boone says candidly. 

You offer him a small smile, “I’ll do my best,” you say. 

Boone offers the two of you one final nod before heading out the front door. 

“Leave it to Boone to barge in like that at nine in the mornin’,” Tyler says as he extends a steaming mug of coffee towards you. But you never uncross your arms. Instead, you just stare at him like that with a look of disapproval. 

“C’mon,” Tyler sighs, head falling. “I’ve been walking on it since yesterday and I haven’t fallen apart yet. You and Boone are both making this a bigger deal than it is.” At this point he knows he’s being a little difficult, but he just wants this over with. 

“I–” you choke out. “I– I don’t understand. Why would you stay in pain like that? Why wouldn’t you tell me you were hurt? Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I trust you,” Tyler says. 

“So why lie?” 

“I didn’t lie–”

“You told me you were fine– I mean you… you carried me on a broken knee, for God’s sake–”

“We have no idea that it’s broken,” Tyler reminds you. 

You scoff. “It looks pretty fucking broken to me, Tyler.”

“It’s just a knee–”

“I know it’s just your knee, and knees heal– but what if it was something worse… I mean, what else are you lying to me about?”

“C’mon,” he sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. “I didn’t lie.”

“Okay, so just keeping stuff from me then,” you say, voice rising. “I mean, you were such an idiot yesterday– first you tell me to leave you behind when the car fell, then you shield my body with yours in the basement instead of keeping yourself safe– now you’re getting my injuries checked out and completely neglecting your own. And for what?” you yell. “I mean… is it an ego thing? Because you’re too tough to get checked out? Or what? Some stupid sort of hero complex? You gotta prove yourself by putting your life in danger?” 

Tyler’s jaw clenches as he grinds his teeth together. “Is that what you really think?” 

You throw your hands up exasterbatedly. “I don’t know what to think! Because you won’t fucking talk to me!” 

Tyler scoffs. “Are you really that mad about this?”

You suck in a breath before sinking your teeth into your bottom lip. “Yeah–” you choke out. “I am mad– I’m mad because I don’t want to lose you!” your voice cracks on the final word, fat tears rolling down your cheek, leaving streaks behind. Tyler’s entire demeanor instantly softens at the sight. He moves closer, but doesn’t reach out. 

“I did all that to protect you–” he spits out. “Because I can’t stand the idea of something happening to you.”

You wipe the tears away from your face, chest heaving as you listen. 

“God, if you got hurt– trying to help me lift a goddamn car off my legs… or because I led you into the wrong spot– or because I put my stupid knee about your head injury, I’d never forgive myself.” 

“And you think I could forgive myself if I ran away and left you underneath a fucking car? Or if you died shielding me from debris?” 

He sighs defeatedly before leaning against he kitchen counter, trying to take some weight off his knee. “I get what you’re saying, Y/N, but that’s just what I do– I protect the people I love… And unfortunately for you, I love you more than anything else.” 

Finally, the look of frustration melted off your face. In it’s place was a mixture of sadness and admiration. “I love you more than anything else too, which is why I need you to take care of yourself.”

Tyler nods, finally feeling like you both were finding some common ground. “I can’t promise I won’t put you first,” he says. “But I promise I’ll try to take care of the both of us.” 

You shift your weight to your right leg and pop your hip disapprovingly. 

“C’mon, what can I do to make things better?” he asks, tilting his head to the side as he gazes at you. 

“Well for starters you could let me take you to the damn hospital.”

Tyler offers you a pleading look. “How about the doctor’s office?” 

“Urgent care,” you state, like it’s your final offer. 

Tyler groans exaggeratedly but then nods. “Okay, fine. Deal. Urgent care it is. But let it be known this is only happening because I love you so much.” 

 The corner of your lip tugs into a small smile. Tyler will take it. 

[titania-sleeps]

PLEASE JUST GIVE READER THE DICK (GN) I NEED TO BREED HIM

sorry for the late af post, someone nearly crushed one of my fingers. this is not my best work but,,, it shall do for now.

your wish is my command, anon. :3 here's the full scene of you fucking adonis in the janitor's closet bc he needs you so bad...

First Heat (Sub!Omega!Yandere x Alpha!Reader)

more works featuring Adonis: Adonis Introduction, Adonis Rides You

warning: nsfw, dom reader, omegaverse, horny af manwhore omega, reader has dick (GN), doggy style, knotting, dacryphilia, minors DNI pls

Adonis pushes you into the janitor's closet, his chest heaving. Sweat clings to his forehead as he sticks to your body. The sweet scent of roses mixed with a tang of lemons wafts through the air.

"Are you alright?" you ask cautiously, using your hands to steady him. Although he stands a few inches taller than you, you can't help but muse at how small he seems in your presence. He hunches over you, as though melting into you would protect him from his scalding lust.

Adonis responds to you with an attempt at a glare. Clearly, he's frustrated; oh, but is that a hint of need in his eyes that you see? You smirk to yourself, his desire for you barely veiled.

"Come closer," you whisper into his ears, sending spikes of shivers down his spine. Hah, as if the two of you aren't close enough already.

He shuffles so that his chest presses against you. He holds his hands behind his back. He's a good boy, and he will wait an eternity for your touch if he needs to.

You reach your arms around his neck, leaning in. Your noses touch, your breath kissing his face. A low whine escapes his throat, and you grin devilishly. His eyes stare into yours, his yearning a spear that pierces your own. You shudder under his gaze, letting your cock grow hard.

You feel a hardness poking at your thigh trapped between his legs. Smiling, you lift your leg for him, and he moans softly under his breath. Moments continue to pass as he grinds carefully against your thigh, breaths growing ragged and whines escalating.

"I... want..." he begins, the first words that have come out of his mouth since he's trapped the two of you in the cramped room. His sentence is broken off by a gasp; you've snuck your hand over his clothed bulge to caress his hardened dick.

"What do you want?" You really don't need to ask, but you love hearing it.

He doesn't hesitate before uttering your name, his entire body leaning onto yours. Desperately, he bucks his hips for any source of friction. Before you can stop him, he moans, hips stuttering and legs giving out. His entire weight is against you, your thigh coated in clear viscosity.

"Don't tell me you're done," you tut, a surge of strength overcoming you as you flip him around.

Adonis doesn't bother protesting and instead steadies himself against the door. He shakes his pants off, bending over.

"I want you," he mutters, shyly spreading his cheeks to reveal his dripping wet hole.

"I don't think I heard you," you tease, taking your own clothes off. He flinches, noticing the smell of your precum.

You can tell he's stopped thinking at this point, his legs shaking in trepidation. You press your tip to his entrance, rubbing and mixing your fluids. It almost seems as though his body is trying to suck you in; his plush insides are begging to be penetrated.

"Please... put it in... I can't handle it anymore," Adonis pleads, breaths shallow and body begging.

You enter him slowly, his hole swallowing your tip immediately. No lube is needed, not when he's this wet and ready for you.

"Please, please, put it in, please!" It seems to take him all his willpower not to slam himself onto your cock. His whining gets louder the more time that passes by with no movement.

He wiggles his hips, trying to get what little bit of you that he can. "Mmm, please!" He turns his head around coyly, eyes watery. A drop of his tears fall and his lips tremble.

"Beautiful," you whisper. You notice the surprise on his face, red blossoming to accompany his stutters of thanks. You grab his arms, holding them firmly behind his back. With words swallowed and breaths held, you thrust into him, enticing a satisfied moan out of Adonis.

"Yes...!" he exhales, his insides clenching greedily onto your cock. You stifle a gasp, feeling a knot form at the base of your cock. Shit, you like this a little too much.

His heart is giddy, running circles in his chest. As the base of your cock engorges and he wraps himself around you wholly, his love for you spills out of his mouth in moans and pleas. If only you could stay in him forever...

He wonders if you would enjoy being called something akin to his spouse. After all, he's already yours; it would only be fair if you're also his, right? All you need to do is mark him, and you will be with him for all eternity.

A particularly rough thrust has him squeezing onto you desperately, a long, drawn-out moan enticed from his throat. His skin burns where you touch, rivers of pleasure blazing from the base of his spine to the very top.

"F-faster!" he begs, his mind melting into the feeling. A mind of emptiness, a vessel molded to your whims and will.

You grind in him, your tip kissing his insides. Every time you hit his sweet spot, he tightens around your cock. A word of praise from you and his legs tremble; a sound from you and cum is dripping weakly from his dick.

"Please—ah!—cum in me, cumcumcumcum—" His words are cut off; you pull him upright, shoving your cock up him fully as you cup your hand around his mouth.

"Quiet," you whisper into his ear. The handle of the door rattles. The two of you hear a grunt of frustration as the janitor stalks off, looking for his keys. As the footsteps fade away, you release him and he releases a shaky moan.

"Did I do well?" he asks you softly. Your cock is throbbing in him and he wants nothing more than for you to finish inside him right now.

He doesn't hear an answer from you and instead, he's shoved against the locked door again, your cock pushing in and out of him relentlessly. His eyes roll up from the stimulation, pleas and moans escaping him even as he tries to remain quiet.

He's about to cum, but then the door rattles again. He whips his head back, panic in his eyes, but you don't stop. The only thing he sees in your eyes is an overwhelming ardor that fills his heart with exhilaration.

He lets you do as you please; your hand snakes to his mouth to muffle his sounds of delight as you bend over him and thrust even harder into him. The door handle jangles and he's biting your hand desperately to prevent getting caught. He doesn't mind if the whole school sees that he belongs to you though. Were it up to him, he would show everyone that he's your omega, and only him.

His eyes widen, adrenaline flowing through his veins. His teeth dig into your skin, but you don't stop. He's convulsing around you in need, the barest of choked moans and tiny gasps making their way out of his throat. You're hugging him closer now, and he can no longer control his body. He needs you to cum in him, to bite him now and possess him entirely.

Adonis wants to beg so terribly, to show you just how much he loves you and how you make him feel, but no words come out and instead, his toes curl and he's pushing you deeply into him and he's just feeling so much—

A loud gasp, and his cock spills out globs of cum; his insides are wringing all that they can out of you. And you comply, because he's been so good for you.

The janitor finally leaves and, without any rest, the two of you rush to get dressed. His love for you overflows, and so does the cum that you've stuffed in him. He takes extra care to keep your cum inside of him; remnants of you that he can keep to himself for the time being. You give him a smirk and a kiss on his sweaty forehead before rushing out the door, right as the bell rings. His hands reach out as he attempts to stop you, but they grab air. He stares at your back, yearning and not nearly satisfied.

It's rushed and he knows that you don't mean to leave him behind. Surely, you care for him. After all that, he just knows that he's the only one for you.

Although you didn't bite him this time, he will make sure that you do next time! But first, he needs to deal with the pesky janitor who kept interrupting you two...

-> masterlist

[ghostlyinsight]

Expanding Worlds

Azriel X Y/N

Uhm hi :) I have never written such a thing and it’s FILTH, FORGIVE ME.

Minors do not interact

NSFW

Begging everyone to be kind, ITS MY FIRST SMUT PLS

I wasn’t quite sure how to start it all out, all I knew is there was an idea in my mind that needed to be OUTOFIT. Reader is Made. She’s a proper lady, idk idk.

Trigger Warnings, none really I guess?

Soft Dom Az? A smidge of shadows, innocent reader? They get nashty, that’s all I know for certain. I hope you enjoy <3

-

I should not have listened to Nesta. She insisted my regular reading material was far too tame and now I am stuck in the library of the House, on my third filthy novel she had recommended to me. There’s a burning ache between my thighs and I fear I’m addicted. She has permanently damaged my brain and I am a disturbed heathen just like her, now. Lucky girl has a mate to satiate the urges these books draw out of you, though. I have nothing but my right hand. How can I be expected to satiate these urges with only my fingers? She’s wounded me with nothing more than a cackle when she left me here to “expand my world”.

I can’t help but chew on my lower lip as my thighs rub together on their own accord, desperate for some sort of friction and release to this infernal ache. I close the book and make my exit down the hall to my chambers. Closing the door behind me, I cross the room and sink down on to my fluffy sheets. Every caress on my skin has my nerves firing off, the pulse between my thighs growing with anticipation. Gods, I can’t believe I’m doing this. All because of these damned books. I run my hand slowly and sensually down the front of my silk gown, down to the apex of my thighs. I slip my hand in to my under garments and gather up the flood of wetness, bringing it to my clit and circling it gently. I can’t help the soft whine that escapes my lips. Have I truly neglected my body so thoroughly? I have never taken a lover… and it’s not often I indulge in such scandalous activities. Of course I know of such things, but I had always planned to save my body for my husband. For the other half of my soul. In my current state of desperation, I might be inclined to throw that idea to the wind, though.

I continue the gentle circles on my clit, the tingling pleasure growing swiftly. This won’t take much with how worked up I am. My nipples harden against my gown and I shut my eyes, picturing the scene in my mind that I had just read in the novel. The male had his head buried between her thighs, his tongue pleasuring her. I reach up with my left hand and take my breast in my hand, pinching and tugging my nipple gently. A louder moan escapes my lips as I quicken the pace on the bundle of nerves my fingers are circling.

Just as I begin to give myself in to my fantasy, I hear a soft knock at my door. My eyes shoot open, fingers quickly retreat and I sit up startled. I smooth down my hair, settle my gown and make my way to the door. Upon opening, I find Azriel patiently waiting on the other side.

“Oh! Hello, Azriel. What can I do for you?” I say, realizing how flushed and out of breath I am. I do my best to keep my composure.

“Good evening, Y/N. I was wondering if you’d like to-“ he stops suddenly mid sentence as I see his nose twitch. Oh gods. He can smell it, can’t he? I remember the conversation I had with Nesta and Feyre when I was first Made. They warned me that the senses of the Fae were heightened and they could often scent many things that we couldn’t as humans. Arousal included. My face heats quickly at the memory and I’m positive the panic on my face is visible. I am so embarrassed.

I glance around everywhere but Azriel’s eyes for a moment before settling on his face. I clear my throat, “go on?” I urge, hoping he chooses to ignore this whole debacle. It’s then that I notice the shift in his features. His eyes are darker… his expression as a whole somehow seems sinister in a way I can’t quite describe.

Finally he speaks, “Can I come in?”

His voice is dripping with a certain grit that I’ve never heard from him before. He is always the perfect gentleman, his composure never faltering, ever polite and kind.

Before I can respond, he’s suddenly walking in to my room, backing me up as he goes. I hear the door shut behind him but all I can really make out is him as his shadows seem to swarm to life around him. He stops in the center of the room, less than a foot away from me. I crane my neck to look up in to his eyes, my breath catching.

“I can help you. Would you like me to help you?” An animalistic expression has taken over his features. My breath quickens as I realize there could be nothing else he’s offering to assist me with. My thoughts are a storm within my mind, unsure how to respond. The ache between my thighs seems to have reignited at his words but I’m torn. It’s no secret that Azriel is probably the most handsome male to walk this world. I’d be lying if I said I had never thought of him in that way… he’s often a permanent figure in my less than ladylike dreams. But for this to be real? Gods… damn the waiting. Azriel has always been so good, so kind. He would be a perfectly acceptable person to always share this memory with.

Having come to my conclusion, I try my hardest to settle my nerves. “Yes..” I finally respond in a breathless whisper. In an instant, his lips crash down on mine, a growl ripping through his throat. Suddenly his hands are all over me, in my hair, on my hips, pulling me in to him. A whimper leaves my throat as I bring my hands up to tangle in his hair. He makes quick strides to the bed, never parting our lips. Shadows, much stronger than what I would have originally thought, suddenly yank me down on to the bed as Azriel strips his shirt off.

Standing before me is some sort of dark, winged god. His body is truly like a sculpture beyond what the hands of any great artist could ever craft. The gentleman in Azriel has quickly been replaced by a creature driven only by what seems to be desire and instinct. He leans down and begins to make his way up the bed, crawling up my body and never breaking eye contact.

“Part those pretty thighs for me, lovely.” His soft instruction a steep contrast from the gravel in his voice. My heart races, “I feel I should warn you… I have never done this before.” I say. Azriel’s eyes flutter as a groan leaves his parted lips. “Fuck… I can have you though, right? You’ll let me take care of you?” Oh gods, he’s nearly pleading and I am absolutely done for. “Yes, yes you can have me..” I respond, panting and honestly nearly drooling at how sexy he sounds right now. What can only be described as a sadistic grin spreads across his lips. “You’re such a good girl.” He says before connecting his lips to mine once more. He reaches down between us and slowly draws my thighs apart before pulling my panties to the side and dipping a finger in to the silky wetness. He moans in to my lips and I grip his shoulders at the sensation of having fingers other than my own exploring my most intimate parts. He brings the wetness up to my clit and begins a slow, torturous pace, circling and gently increasing pressure.

“Is this what you were doing in here, pretty girl? Hm? What’s got you so worked up that I had to come in here and take care of you like this, baby?” He dips his head down to my neck, licking and kissing teasingly. “I… I read a book…” I whimper out as best I can. “A book? That’s all it took, sweet girl? Fuck, I can do better than a book.” He says with a nip to my neck.

He sits up on his knees then and grips my hips, pulling me down so my thighs are on either side of him. My thin gown has ridden up, exposing my light blue underwear to him. “Can I undress you, baby? I want to see all of you… I just want to make you feel good.” He asks so sweetly, I couldn’t say no to him if I wanted to. My eyes shut and my head lulls to the side. “Yes, whatever you want, Az. Please.” As soon as he’s given permission, I feel the cool tendrils of his shadows tracing up my sides, bringing my gown up with them. I lift enough for the gown to come off and the harsh air meets my breasts. Not for long though, because the same shadows come to caress them. “You’ll let them play too, won’t you?” He asks again and all I can do is nod. My chest is rising and falling rapidly and I don’t think I have ever been so aroused in my life. I feel Azriel’s hands reach my underwear and they’re discarded quickly. “Look at you,” he finally groans out. “Absolutely soaked.” He shimmies down, bringing his lips to each of my thighs.

“Can I tell you something, baby?” He asks, and I croak out a barely audible “what is it?” In response. “I think I’m going to keep you.” He says just before licking a long strip up my wetness. A gasp leaves my throat and my hand quickly tangles in his hair, the other gripping the bed sheet. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to taste you. Do you know how many nights you’ve had me fisting my cock? How many times I’ve almost knocked on that door and got on my gods damned knees for you? I could beg. I don’t beg but I would have for a taste of you.” Another lick up my pussy. “I was knocking on that door tonight to ask you out to dinner. Was gonna take you out, treat you so nice baby, then I was gonna take you home and have you for dessert.” His words are clouding my mind, eating up my senses. He takes my clit between his lips and sucks. “Imagine my surprise to find you in the state I did. Already so fucking needy… fuck, baby…” and then he unleashes himself upon me. Licking, sucking, moaning against me. I’m reduced to nothing but a puddle beneath him, unable to form coherent sentences. My hips buck against his face, chasing the pleasure he’s giving me. I didn’t know I could feel like this, didn’t know he felt for me the way he described… gods I would have said yes to dinner, I would have said yes to anything, everything. Pressure quickly begins to build in my abdomen. “Oh gods…. Azriel… I..” I can’t even finish my words before the pressure finally reaches its peak, snapping and shattering, filling my whole body with warmth and tingles. I’m barely aware of the flood of wetness leaving my pussy as it aches and clenches around nothing. Never in all my attempts to pleasure myself has it ever felt like this… never so complete and all consuming. As the waves of euphoria slowly subside, I glance down at Azriel, finding him between my legs with that same sinister grin. The lower half of his face as well as his chest are glistening. “You made a mess, pretty girl. And I’m not even done with you yet.” He says as he moves to his feet and begins unbuckling his belt.

I can’t help but wonder what I’ve gotten myself in to but I’m far too enthused to stop. Azriel removes his belt and his pants fall to the ground. Next are his undergarments. The shock must be evident on my face as I take in the size of him. I have nothing to compare with but I just know he is large. Very large. “Don’t be scared, baby. I’ll make sure it fits.” He says with a smirk as he climbs back on to the bed and settles against the headboard.

“Come here, lovely.” He instructs and I make my way to straddle his lap on my shaky legs. I glance down at his erection between us and bite my lower lip. “Can I… can I touch you?” I ask, and he chuckles before pecking my lips. “Explore.” He offers. I circle my hand around the tip of him, feeling the soft skin. I experimentally move my hand up and down his shaft, looking to his face to see his reaction. His pupils are blown, and he’s entirely focused on my hand wrapped around him. “Is this okay? Do you like it?” I ask nervously. “It’s good, baby. Go slow. I don’t want to cum until I’m in your perfect little pussy.” His head hits the headboard behind him as he starts to pant softly. “Can I taste it?” I ask as I start sliding down his thighs to bring my face to his cock. “Fuck…” he hisses out. “Yes… just for a minute and then I have to be inside of you.” I giggle a little at his words, proud of how he’s reacting to my touch, at how badly he wants me. I bring my lips down to him and place a soft kiss on the tip.

He brings his hand to my hair, tangling in the strands. “Open.” He instructs as he taps my cheek with his other hand. I open my mouth and let him lower my mouth on to him. I close my lips around him and circle the tip with my tongue. I can taste the drops that have gathered at the top and moan softly at the taste of him. “You’re such a good girl, I knew you would be. Always so proper and polite. Always doing as you’re told. And now you’ve got your perfect lips wrapped around my cock. Suck, baby.” He instructs and I instantly do it. He hisses and begins guiding my head up and down on him, showing me the pace he likes. I glance up at him to see his reaction, his eyes are hooded and his lips are parted. He lets out a low groan before pulling me off of him gently and guiding me to his lips. I wrap my arms around his neck, pushing my breasts against him. My lips part, allowing room for his tongue to brush against mine. I can taste myself on his tongue and the thought has my walls clenching around nothing all over again. He leans down, taking one of my nipples between his teeth, gently sucking and pulling. My back arches and I gasp at the sensation. My hips begin to rock by their own accord, grinding against his hardness. He shifts, allowing his cock to glide through my folds as my hips grind against him. His hands find my ass, gripping and urging my hips to glide faster against him.

“Look at you… you could cum just like this, couldn’t you? Just from rubbing that desperate little cunt along my cock.” He finishes his statement with a sharp smack to my rear end. I moan out at the sensation, surprise taking over my features. I didn’t know I would enjoy something like that… but I enjoy all of this. Everything Azriel is giving me, I’m eager to take. Putty in his skilled hands, his for the taking. “Azriel…” I mewl out. “What, baby? What do you need?” He responds, still urging me up and down his length. The way his cock is sliding along my swollen clit is sinful. You can hear the sloppy wetness with every surge forward. “I want it, Az… I want your cock inside me… please? Can I please have it?” I begin to meekly beg, desperate for the stretch I’ve never felt before. I need him to claim me. “Gods, baby, you beg so pretty. Of course you can. You’ve been so fucking good for me, taking everything like such a sweet girl. My good girl, yeah? Tell me you’re my good girl and I’ll let you have it right now, baby.” He says, bucking his hips up in to mine. “I’m your good girl, Azzie… all yours.” I pant out.

Azriel quickly lifts my hips and lines the tip up with my tight entrance. “This is going to hurt the first time, lovely. I’ll be careful and we’ll go slow, okay baby?” I nod my head in response, just ready to finally be filled by him. He slowly lowers me down on to him and I feel the burning stretch begin to take over. I whimper softly and cling on to him tightly. “Would you like me to stop? Is this okay?” He says, searching for any doubt on my face. There he is, the usual ever polite and kind Azriel. “It’s okay, Az… feels good, just stings a little…” I respond reassuringly. He smiles at me and plants a sweet kiss on my lips before slipping in another inch.

Slowly but surely, I eventually find myself fully seated on his cock, panting and desperate to rock my hips against it. “Az… it feels so good… please…” I beg softly, not quite sure what to do next. “Shhh baby, I have you. Let me guide you, okay? You feel so good wrapped around me. So fucking tight and wet.” He says as he begins to rock my hips back and forth. The stretch and burn is still present but is drowned out by the pleasure of being so full. My pussy throbs around him, gripping him like a vice and refusing to let go. I rest my hands on his chest and experimentally lift my hips, dropping down softly. We both moan in sync, and his grip on my hips tighten. “Fuck, just like that baby. Take your time, take everything you need from me. It’s all yours.” He says, giving some control to me to explore my own pleasure.

I lift again, and slide down slowly on him once more. A few more tries and I manage to establish a rhythm that has us both panting and whimpering. His hands find my breasts, palming them and rubbing my nipples between his fingers. At this angle, my clit is rubbing perfectly against him, stimulating every nerve ending. His cock fits so deep, hitting every nook and cranny inside of me. I arch my back, speeding up as I feel the pressure building inside me again.

Azriel suddenly shifts and my back hits the plush mattress, his cock never exiting as we move. My thighs instinctually wrap around his waist, drawing him deeper inside. A yelp escapes me at the new angle, at the way his cock somehow reaches further, finding places within me that only he can sate. He leans down, pressing our lips together, our tongues tangling as he pulls nearly all the way out before plunging in once more. Over and over. His sensual assault to my lips and his cock buried inside me to the hilt is enough to have me feeling as if I’ve indulged in an entire bottle of Rhys’s rarest wine. My vision darkens and my mind is all consumed with Azriel. His lips, his words, his cock, his eyes, his heart. All him. I hear a chuckle escape him above me. “All fucked out, princess? Drunk on it?” He mocks.

All I can manage is more whimpers and incoherent pleas for more. He reaches down, gripping one of my calves and brings it up to rest on his shoulder. He speeds up, his fingers coming to meet my clit, making tight quick circles on it. “Azriel… I want to cum, please…” I beg, tears brimming in my eyes. “Whenever you’re ready, baby. Let me feel that tight little pussy cum around my cock. It’s the only one it’s ever going to cum for, isn’t it? All mine?” A high pitched whine escapes me. “Yes! Yes, Azzie, just yours, always. Promise. I’m all yours..” I nearly shout, the pressure fast approaching its peak. He grins, kissing my calve that’s resting on his shoulder. My toes curl as his assault on my clit quickens and suddenly the coil snaps.

My pussy clenches down on him, pulsing as my orgasm bursts out of me. I can hear my own distant moans and whimpers of his name, followed by his groans as he thrusts harder in to me. My pussy continues to pulse around his cock and suddenly warmth blooms within it as I feel him coat my walls with his seed. “Fuck baby, you’re so beautiful. So fucking sexy when you cum, I can hardly stand it.” He says as he slows his pace. He brings his hand up to move the sweaty strands of hair out of my face and wipe the tears from my eyelids. I hadn’t even realized I was shedding them, the pleasure far too immense to take note of much else.

The throbbing of us both begins to settle and he unsheathes himself from inside me. He lay next to me before bringing his fingers down and dipping them in our mixed juices. He thoroughly coats them before bringing them to my lips. “Taste.” He demands. I part my lips, and suck his fingers in to my mouth. He hums softly as I moan around his fingers. “Such a perfect girl for me. You did so good, baby. Let me get you cleaned up, okay?” I nod as he stands from the bed, retrieving a wet cloth from the bathroom. He returns and gently wipes me off, taking extra care between my thighs so as to avoid any extra soreness. After then cleaning himself off, he joins me in the bed again, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me in close. His large wings wrap around, making a sort of cocoon around us.

He finally speaks as he’s stroking my hair. “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He asks lovingly. “It was perfect, Azriel. I didn’t know it could feel like that.” He chuckles at my response, pecking my lips. “I’m sorry for coming at you like some sort of animal. I truly did intend to ask you to dinner. I just couldn’t help myself… you just smelt so delicious, I had to have a bite.” He says as he playfully nips my shoulder. I giggle before responding, “I would love to go to dinner with you, by the way.” A sweet smile spreads across his lovely face. “A date, then.” 

[misswynters]

Off Screen Story

Ewan Mitchell x fem!reader

[a/n: feeding my own agenda lol

[note | pls don’t just like, but also reblog & give me feedback. i don’t want to get shadowbanned

The sun set on the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the set of House of the Dragon. Filming had wrapped up for the day, and the cast and crew were beginning to disperse. Ewan Mitchell, who played the brooding and intense Aemond Targaryen, walked off the set with a sense of satisfaction. He was eager to catch up with his co-star and longtime girlfriend, who played his on-screen wife, Lady ___ Velaryon.

"Hey," Ewan called out as he spotted you by the catering table, pouring yourself a cup of tea. You turned, a bright smile lighting up your face as you saw him.

"Hey yourself," you replied, setting the teapot down. "How was your day?"

Ewan shrugged, a playful grin on his lips. "Same old. Aemond broods, Aemond schemes, Aemond rides a dragon. You know the drill."

You laughed, the sound like music to his ears. "Well, you do it so well. I think you were born to play this role."

"And you were born to play Lady Velaryon," he retorted, stepping closer and wrapping an arm around your waist. "I mean, who else could pull off being both fierce and elegant?"

You leaned into his embrace, feeling the familiar warmth and comfort that only Ewan could provide. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Mitchell."

He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "I aim to please."

The two of you found a quiet corner on set, away from the bustling crew, and sat down on a pair of folding chairs. You sipped your tea while Ewan stretched out his long legs, looking relaxed and content.

"Do you remember our first scene together on The Last Kingdom with Phia and all them?" you asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

Ewan's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Of course. How could I forget? You nearly knocked me out with that wooden sword."

You blushed at the memory. "Hey, that was an accident! I was just really into the character."

"And I was really into dodging your swings," he teased, earning a playful swat on the arm from you.

"But seriously," you continued, your tone softening, "I think that's when I knew I liked you. You didn't get mad or frustrated. You just laughed it off and helped me get it right."

Ewan's expression turned tender, his gaze locking with yours. "Well, I think I knew I liked you from the moment I saw you. You were so passionate, so dedicated. It was hard not to be drawn to you."

You smiled, feeling a rush of affection for the man beside you. "We've come a long way since then, haven't we?" He nodded, his thumb brushing gently over the back of your hand. "Yeah, we have. And now here we are, playing husband and wife. Life has a funny way of working out."

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, watching the sun dip below the horizon. The sky turned a deep shade of purple, stars beginning to twinkle overhead. It was moments like these that reminded you how lucky you were to have found each other, both on and off-screen.

"I was thinking," Ewan said suddenly, breaking the silence. "Maybe we should do something special this weekend. Just the two of us."

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? What do you have in mind?"

He shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eye. "How about a little getaway? We could rent a cabin in the countryside, away from all the chaos. Just relax, enjoy each other's company."

The idea sounded perfect, and you felt a surge of excitement at the thought. "That sounds amazing, Ewan. I could definitely use a break."

"Great," he said, leaning in to kiss you softly. "I'll make the arrangements. We'll leave Friday evening."

You kissed him back, feeling a sense of contentment settle over you. "I can't wait."

Friday evening arrived faster than expected. Ewan had managed to keep the details of the trip a secret, only telling you to pack for a weekend away. You trusted him completely, knowing that whatever he had planned would be perfect.

As you drove through the countryside, the city fading into the distance, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. Ewan had chosen a scenic route, the landscape dotted with rolling hills and quaint villages. The cabin he had rented was nestled in a secluded spot, surrounded by lush trees and a sparkling lake.

"This is beautiful," you breathed as you stepped out of the car, taking in the serene surroundings.

Ewan grinned, looking pleased with himself. "I thought you might like it."

The cabin was cozy and charming, with a rustic yet modern feel. Ewan carried your bags inside, setting them down in the master bedroom. You followed, taking in the warm, inviting decor.

"Thank you for this," you said, wrapping your arms around him from behind. "It's exactly what I needed."

He turned in your embrace, his arms encircling your waist. "Anything for you."

The two of you spent the evening relaxing by the fireplace, talking and laughing as you reminisced about your time on The Last Kingdom and the early days of your relationship. It was easy to forget about the pressures of filming and the outside world when you were with Ewan. He had a way of making you feel cherished and loved, no matter what.

As the night wore on, you found yourself curled up in his arms, feeling utterly content. The fire crackled softly, casting a warm glow over the room. You tilted your head up to look at him, your heart swelling with love.

"Do you ever think about the future?" you asked softly.

Ewan's expression grew thoughtful as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. "All the time. Especially when it comes to us."

You smiled, feeling a sense of warmth spread through you. "What do you see?"

He took a deep breath, his eyes locking with yours. "I see us, happy and together. I see more getaways but always with each other. I see a life filled with love and laughter."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to his words, feeling a profound sense of connection and understanding. "I see the same thing. I can't imagine my life without you." He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your lips.

The weekend passed in a blissful blur of lazy mornings, long walks, and intimate moments. You felt closer to Ewan than ever before, the bond between you growing stronger with each passing day. It was a reminder of why you had fallen in love with him in the first place, and why you knew you would always choose him, time and time again.

As you drove back to the city on Sunday evening, you felt a sense of calm and contentment settle over you. The weekend had been exactly what you needed, a chance to reconnect and recharge. You knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, as a team.

Ewan reached over and took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Thank you for this weekend. It was perfect."

You squeezed his hand back, smiling at him. "No, thank you. For everything."

He grinned, his eyes twinkling with affection. "I love you."

"I love you too," you replied, feeling the truth of those words resonate deep within you.

A few days later, you and Ewan were scheduled for a joint interview to promote House of the Dragon. The two of you arrived at the studio, hands intertwined, your chemistry palpable. The interviewer, a seasoned journalist named Claire, greeted you warmly.

"Welcome, Ewan, and ___. It's great to have you here," Claire said, smiling brightly as she motioned for you to sit down.

"Thank you for having us," you replied, settling into the plush chair beside Ewan. He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go.

The cameras rolled, and Claire began with the usual questions about the show, your characters, and the experience of working on such a high-profile project. You and Ewan answered with ease, your natural camaraderie shining through.

"There's been a lot of buzz about the chemistry between your characters on the show," Claire noted, leaning forward. "Do you think that has anything to do with your real-life relationship?"

You exchanged a quick glance with Ewan, both of you smiling. "I think it definitely helps," Ewan said, his gaze softening as he looked at you. "We have a deep connection off-screen, and that translates into our performances."

You nodded in agreement. "It's easier to convey those intense emotions when you genuinely care about the person you're acting with. Plus, we trust each other completely, which makes taking risks in our scenes a lot easier."

Claire's eyes twinkled with interest. "Can you share any fun or memorable moments from the set?"

You laughed, recalling a particular incident. "Well, there was this one time during a battle scene where Ewan got so into character that he accidentally knocked over a prop tree. It was hilarious because he just stood there, looking so apologetic while everyone else was trying to stay in character."

Ewan chuckled, shaking his head. "I swear, that tree came out of nowhere."

The interview continued, with Claire asking more personal questions about your relationship. "How do you balance your professional and personal lives, especially when working together on such demanding projects?"

"It's all about communication and support," you explained. "We make sure to set aside time for ourselves, away from the set, to just relax and be a normal couple. And we always have each other's backs, no matter what."

Ewan nodded, his hand finding yours once more. "Exactly. It's not always easy, but it's worth it. We're each other's biggest fans and strongest support system."

Claire smiled, clearly charmed by your dynamic. "It's wonderful to see such a strong bond between you two. Lastly, what can fans expect from your characters in the upcoming episodes?"

You shared a knowing look with Ewan before answering. "Without giving too much away, I can say that there are some intense and emotional scenes coming up. Our characters face a lot of challenges, but they also have moments of deep connection and understanding. It's going to be a rollercoaster ride."

Ewan nodded in agreement. "Definitely. There are some twists and turns that will surprise everyone. It's been an incredible journey, and we're excited for fans to see what's next."

As the interview wrapped up, Claire thanked you both for your time. "It's been a pleasure talking with you. Your chemistry is truly off the charts, both on and off-screen."

"Thank you," you said, feeling a warm flush of happiness. "It's been great chatting with you too."

Ewan leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. "We'll see you at the premiere," he added with a grin.

As you left the studio hand in hand, you felt a sense of fulfillment. The interview had gone perfectly, showcasing not only your professional work but also the deep bond you shared. With Ewan by your side, both in your career and your personal life, you knew you could face anything that came your way.

taglist: @benjicotblckwood

[wonwoonlight]

just one day / yoon jeonghan

⇢ Jeonghan x fem!Reader

⇢ word count: 4.5k

⇢ fluff // angst // nonidol!au // brother's best friend // fake dating!au // they're idiots lmao // not edited nor proofread so pls bear w me lol // cursing and. two? kissing scenes.

⇢ A/N: this has been sitting unfinished in my google drive since... either last year or the beginning of this year lmao. i have always wanted to write brother's best friend and i had this sudden urge to finish it earlier so i did. been some time since i posted a proper fic so, enjoy~

He must be dreaming.

He must be.

“What?” Jeonghan says just for the sake of saying it.

“I like you.”

“No, you don’t.”

You blink at his firm voice, wondering what kind of situation this is. Sure, you shouldn’t be confessing to your brother’s best friend, but you feel like you’ve been obvious enough and you don’t see why you shouldn’t confess when it’s been eating you inside out.

And, yeah, you didn’t expect him to do anything about your confession (or even say that he likes you back), but you didn’t expect this either.

“What do you mean I don’t?” you frown, looking at him accusingly. “I like you.”

“You don’t, kid.” He sighs, already feeling a headache coming. He’s not stupid, alright, he has enough sense to gather that his best friend’s little sister probably has something on him–a crush, perhaps, but he’s never thought it was real enough for you to feel the need to confess.

It doesn’t help that he is attracted to you, has always been since you’ve gone back from Sydney after finishing university a year ago. He admits he’s always thought you’re attractive, and if he’s being honest, he would’ve asked you out first if not for the fact that you’re literally Joshua Hong’s little sister.

As if it’s not enough that not dating his best friend’s little sister has always been a code he follows, Shua has always been a little too protective as a brother. He’s seen firsthand how the guy scared off some who had the guts to flirt with you, seen how for two decades only two guys had ever been declared good enough to date you (he couldn’t do anything about the flings you had when you were abroad, but at least you’ve always been appreciative of his protectiveness and you never missed to inform him of some guys who were actually trying to get it on with you).

Long story short, Jeonghan does not wish to be on the receiving end of Shua’s scrutinizing eyes regardless of how much he’s actually into you.

“Look, you know me,” he starts when he realizes you’re not backing down. He looks away, pretending to be frustrated, though it’s really just because he thinks he’ll relent if he looks into your eyes a second longer. “I’m not gonna make a good boyfriend and I’m literally your brother’s best friend.”

You don’t seem to care about the first part of his sentence, irked by the fact that him being best friend with Shua would be an obstacle in your way. Shouldn’t it be easier for him to get a seal of approval if he’s already close with your brother? But, then again, Shua probably knows Jeonghan inside out and knowing too much is never a good thing.

“So what?” you say anyway, because if there’s any word that would describe you perfectly, it’s ‘stubborn’. “Why does it matter that you’re his best friend?”

Jeonghan sends you a look, and you pout because you actually get what he means. You know Shua, after all, and as much as you want to condition yourself to believe that Jeonghan would be the person Shua approves of with all his heart, you also know that even if your brother actually approves, he would put him through hell just for the fun of it.

Anyway, this doesn’t tell you at all where Jeonghan actually stands about you.

“So, you don’t like me?” you shoot straight to it, as if Jeonghan wouldn’t be able to hear your heart beating like there’s no tomorrow if he takes even one step closer–as if your ears aren’t hot from saying it out loud. Jeonghan does not need to know how flustered you actually are.

And it works, because he seems to be taken aback by your boldness and you try your best to hide a victory grin at that. You should probably be more grateful that he can’t stand to look at you for more than three seconds; if he had, he would’ve seen the tip of your ears turning red and the speck of blush on your face, which means he could’ve easily taken control of the situation and turned it against you.

His silence encourages you, because if he really doesn’t like you then he would tell you so. As much as Jeonghan is a master of tricks and he’s great at acting, he’s never been good at hiding his feelings.

Jeonghan bites his lip, trying to get a way out of this. Why can’t he just say no and be done with it? Sure, he’s not in love with you or anything (yet?), but it’s a straight out lie to say he’s never seen you that way.

After all, there’s a reason why he’s been avoiding you the past few months. 

You just have to be more daring these days, and as much as he wills himself to behave, there are times when he’s already flirting with you before he knows it. He’s just lucky Shua has never caught you two.

Plus, you’ve taken a liking to wearing a crop top and it’s the absolute death of him.

“Tell you what,” you say before he does. “Date me.”

Jeonghan chokes on nothing, violently coughs that his shoulders are shaking and you actually need to pat his back so he’ll calm down.

“Are you okay?” You ask worriedly, and he’s terribly conscious of your hand on his shoulder and the other on his arm, of the way your brows furrow in concern, of the way your lips are a little ajar and if he moves forward just a little–

“Yeah.” He shakes his head despite the word, then clears his throat and squares his shoulders before he looks the other way around. He doesn’t step away though, and it’s so fucking stupid that he frowns when you do. “Sorry. You were saying?”

“Date me.” You repeat anyway, though you know this is Jeonghan’s way of  giving you an out in case you want to pretend like you didn’t just say that earlier. He opens his mouth, and you can hear what he’s going to say even if he hasn’t said anything so you cut him yet again. “Just for one day.”

“Kid–”

“Stop,” you say firmly, something akin to determination flashes through your eyes that he’s actually taken aback. “Stop calling me that.”

He sighs out your name, but you’re not hearing it because if you back down now you know you won’t have it in you to say this out loud again. You’re fueled by nothing but impulse and you’re not going to let Yoon Jeonghan himself slow you down.

“Han, I see the way you look at me–you’ve gone past seeing me as a kid since I came back from Sydney and it’s been a year since then. I’m not stupid.”

It’s hard to describe the way he looks at you, and he’s not blaming you because he is confused. The mixed feelings bursting in his chest is much too complicated for him to explain. Let alone through words, even his consciousness does not know how to register what he’s feeling.

Your face falls at his silence, and whatever courage that drives you up to this point is starting to ebb little by little. You’re so goddamn stupid–did you really think confessing to him would lift the weight off your shoulders? What made you think Jeonghan would be able to treat you as usual after you confessed?

Didn’t you confess only because it’s heaving you down? Because you thought you’d regret it if you stayed silent?

Then what is this weight on your chest? 

What is this disappointment looming all over your body?

Why the fuck are your eyes pricking with tears?

Still, you stand your ground and square yourself up in front of him. You’ve gone this far. If you’re going to be embarrassing, might as well do it for a reason. 

“Okay,” he breaks his silence, his tone defeated for whatever reason. It’s not discouraging though, more like unsure and maybe a little hopeful, and when you look up, he’s biting his lip in contemplation. “Just one day, right?”

“But you have to actually treat me like I’m your girlfriend.” You push, heart beating both in excitement and fear. Because what if he backs out of nowhere? He’s not that kind of person, but this situation is nothing sort of normal and his consciousness just might get to him if you don’t push him already.

Jeonghan bites his lip, looking at you like you’re a bad idea that he’s caving into. And he’s starting to think that it’s true. But if he’s being honest, he’s not against this at all. He also wants to know how it’d feel like to hold your hands and just listen to you talk without thinking about Shua and whatever that will follow if he ever finds out.

Frankly, one day wouldn’t be enough, but that’s better than nothing, right? And he would never have the guts to propose it himself, he admits, so this is a chance that he knows he wouldn’t get his hands on ever again.

He sighs, praying to every god up there that this won’t backfire on him.

“Okay,” he whispers, more to himself than to you, and then repeats it once again, this time firmer, looking at you straight in the eyes. “Shua’s going on a business trip next week, right?”

You nod.

“I’ll see you next Saturday?”

You bite down your lip so hard that you taste blood to stop yourself from smiling like an idiot.

Tuesday, 26 July

[14:32] Yoon Jeonghan😠: beach or amusement park

[14:50] ?????

[14:50] its not a surprise?

[14:54] Yoon Jeonghan😠: just pick one, kid

[14:55] 🙄 beach ig

Thursday, 28 July

[01:11] Yoon Jeonghan😠: festival or night market

[01:12] ?????? sir?? go to sleep??

[01:12] didnt you choose a place alrd???

[01:12] but night market

[01:13] Yoon Jeonghan😠: you go to sleep

Yoon Jeonghan😠 is typing…

…

Yoon Jeonghan😠 is typing…

[01:17] Yoon Jeonghan😠: good night, kid

[01:18] nightttttt

Friday, 29 July

[22:20] Yoon Jeonghan😠: wear something light tomorrow, but bring a jacket just in case it gets cold at night

Saturday, 30 July

[00:03] k, boyfriend 😌

[00:03] sorry, i was on the phone with chaeyoung earlier

[00:07] Yoon Jeonghan😠: i really cant with you

[00:07] Yoon Jeonghan😠: and chaeyoung as in vernon’s cousin? your friend from high school?

[00:07] Yoon Jeonghan😠: you still talk to her?

[00:08] yes!! surprised that u rmb her :0

[00:08] and i actually just met her by accident earlier today and we decided to catch up thru the phone bc i had to go somewhere

[00:09] apparently, she’s dating choi seungcheol or smth 👀

Incoming call from Yoon Jeonghan😠 - 00:11

Call ended - 02:27

[02:27] Yoon Jeonghan😠: you fell asleep. night, babe 🤪 see you

You bite your lip in giddiness as you keep on rereading Jeonghan’s text, like you’re not giddy enough already at the prospect of today.

You fell asleep last night while on the phone with Jeonghan, but whatever curse you were about to dump into yourself for falling asleep during what might be your only chance to be on the phone with Jeonghan during ungodly hours was immediately wiped out when you saw his text.

Yes, you’d flirt with each other from time to time–but never through texts, and the prospect of having a message from him that you can read over and over again some time in the future is both delightful and… sad.

The sudden tug on your heart and consciousness is a little heavy, a reminder that he’s doing that because you asked him to. That whatever’s happening in the span of today is an illusion, one that Jeonghan agrees on creating.

Why, you don’t want to dwell on it too much.

That should be your motto for the day: fuck it.

So what if it was an illusion? Jeonghan agreed and you’re going to make the best out of it. If you’re never going to be Jeonghan’s girlfriend, might as well be shameless and live your teenage (and adult, if you’re being honest) dream and be his girlfriend for the day now so you can stamp it in your memory. You only have today and you’re not going to spend any second thinking about the technicality of it.

As far as you know, Jeonghan is your boyfriend and he’s taking you out for the day.

You jump when your phone pings, the notification on your lockscreen rids you of whatever negativity that was in your mind literally seconds ago as you grin and make your way out of your apartment.

[09:17] Yoon Jeonghan😠: am in the lobby. get ur pretty self here, angel.

For all you know, the world is plenty unfair. But seeing Jeonghan looking like that with a simple white tee and a faded pair of jeans reminds you just how unfair the world actually is. Like it’s not unfair enough already because he’s not your actual boyfriend.

“Come on, let me take a picture of you,” he says as he softly takes your hand, pulling you up from the mat. “The wind isn’t too strong and you’re looking particularly pretty today.”

You scrunch your nose as you mock annoyance, a failed attempt to mask your blush. Hopefully, Jeonghan would think you’re simply flushed because of the sun and not because of him.

“I don’t like taking pictures.”

“How dare you lie to me.” Jeonghan says without missing a beat. “I know you make Shua take a ton shit pictures of you when you’re out somewhere.”

You pout at this, and as much as you know Jeonghan doesn’t mean anything by it, the mention of your brother isn’t exactly welcome today because his name just reminds you that this isn’t real and he’s a big part of the reason why.

“Can you not talk about my brother?” You say softly, which Jeonghan easily catches even if he’s not sure you mean for him to hear or not. The sadness in your voice is genuine though, and he makes a mental note to stop mentioning Joshua for the rest of the day. He’s starting to question once again if this is the right thing to do even for a day–after all, Joshua is his best friend, and this particular conversation is the exact reason why he’s not supposed to do this.

But he’s promised you he’ll treat you like his girlfriend–perhaps another personal agenda of his because he does want to experience being able to be your boyfriend even for a day. He should’ve thought more before okay-ing your proposal instead of thinking about it right now when you’re in front of him, in a simple white shirt and a black skirt that stops just below the middle of your thigh but somehow still the prettiest he’s ever seen. 

He wonders if this is how you usually dress up for your dates, and something bitter makes it to the tip of his tongue as he thinks about someone else taking you on a date. 

“Sorry. Come on, let’s take a picture together.” His fingers wrap around your wrist to pull you closer before eventually linking them with yours. “You’re very pretty today, have I told you?”

“You have.” You scrunch your nose and pretend to roll your eyes at the sudden sweetness he basks you in even though you’re liking every second of it. “Literally one minute ago.”

“Well, you really do look very beautiful and I want you to know.” He lowers his voice an octave and stares right into your eyes before he eventually bursts out laughing.

“Stop!” You giggle, knowing that he’s doing this on purpose to annoy you. “That’s too fucking cheesy and you know it.”

He laughs along with you, then tightens his fingers in yours like they’re not interlocked already.

“I mean it though.” He whispers one last time, not looking at you this time around because his heart might fucking burst to say it to your face without the faux of messing with you. “You do look beautiful.”

At least you share the sentiment, as you quietly duck your head to hide your smile, whispering a thanks that’s only meant for the two of you.

Jeonghan keeps his end of the bargain, you’re happy to know, as you don’t even think about your brother and the pretense that is your relationship for the rest of the day. You freely flirt with each other, cheeky smile and winks being thrown here and there. His hands never seem to leave you, and you gladly cling on to him even if you don’t need to.

You get ice cream, insist that you want the plain strawberry one only to eventually switch with Jeonghan’s cookies and creams because his looks better. He plays hard to get before giving in to you, but not before swiping ice cream from the side of your lips and licks his thumb like that shit isn’t going to give you a heart attack.

It’s around seven when you both get to the night market not too far from the beach, and you’re both even gigglier than earlier which you didn’t think was possible. Your cheeks hurt from smiling, but you’re the furthest thing from complaining as you continue at whatever dumb jokes Jeonghan throws your way.

The night market isn’t as crowded as you think it would be, but it still is crowded and Jeonghan makes a show of throwing his arm around your shoulder because he ‘doesn’t want to lose you’ and you seem a little cold (which you kinda are).

You elbow him at this, shake your head and pretend like you’re not internally dying from the closeness between the two of you.

“That’s so lame.” You snicker. “Just say you want me close and go.”

“I do want you close.” He whispers unexpectedly, catching you entirely off guard that you trip on your own foot you almost fall on your face. He doesn’t seem to realize you tripped because you’re flustered, which works good for you, and he flicks your forehead as he scolds you to be more careful and goes back to holding your hand.

“Seriously. How are you still so clumsy?”

You don’t like being reprimanded by Jeonghan, because it awfully reminds you that you’re younger than him–that you’re his best friend’s little sister. And as much as you know Jeonghan definitely does not see you as a sister, the implication that he has to see you as one because of the association is very disheartening. 

“Why are you frowning?” He copies the gesture, and you shake your head, telling him it’s nothing. The night is ending, and you don’t want to waste more time thinking about stuff that you can think of tomorrow when you’re not in a time limited relationship with Yoon Jeonghan. “No, tell me–”

“Jeonghan?”

The both of you turn at the call of his name, and your frown deepens as you see Jisoo in front of you, Jeonghan’s ex that he amicably broke up with. The one ex that has always made you feel like shit because she’s everything you’re not and they were such a picture perfect couple that you’re sure they’d go back together someday.

It does not feel good to see her today of all days.

“Oh, hi!” She kindly greets you, her smile way too genuine for you to think she’s just being polite and secretly hates you inside. Gosh. You need to stop watching too many TV dramas. “Joshua’s sister… right?”

There it is again. The reminder that you’re his sister–something you really don’t need to hear today.

“Hi.” You smile awkwardly, and only then remember your hand is still pretty much joined with Jeonghan’s. You don't know how to feel about the fact that his reflex is not to let go of your hand in front of his ex who obviously knows your brother. You try to let go of his hand, but Jeonghan holds on tighter, as if telling you it’s okay and there’s no need to worry about Jisoo.

They share a small chat for a bit before eventually parting, and Jisoo wishes you both a good night, which makes you hate yourself so much for being jealous of the girl when she doesn’t even have an ounce of bad energy towards you.

You try to enjoy the rest of the night, but Jisoo’s appearance just reminds you that this whole thing is pretty much fake. That someone out there is going to be in your place for real–able to hold his hand and just be with him all the time without having to wait for your brother to go on a business trip to even hang out with each other. Without some stupid request and guilt eating them inside out because they’re not supposed to do this.

Trying to be subtle, you put on an act of wanting to visit every stall in the festival and pretend to be tired after about thirty minutes or so. You’re surprised Jeonghan isn’t already tired to begin with, this guy has the battery of a five-years-old phone, you didn’t expect him to actually bring you around until night if you’re being completely honest.

Jeonghan complies when you tell him you’re ready to go home, and you don’t even realize he’s also being weirdly quiet because you’re too deep in your thoughts. And it’s once his car is parked on the parking lot of your apartment building that you finally open your mouth trying to say something–anything.

You want to thank him for today. To thank him for making a memory that you’ll dearly hold on to, for giving you a standard of what a boyfriend is supposed to be even for a day. For fulfilling your dumb request when he doesn’t even have to.

But what comes out of your mouth is something entirely different and you almost want to bash your head against the door of his car right after.

“Whoever’s going to be your girlfriend is very lucky.”

You can hear Jeonghan takes a sharp breath, and you bite your lip to stop yourself from crying because you’re just so fucking stupid like that.

You try to remind yourself that you asked for this. That Jeonghan is doing you a favour and owes you nothing. That you should be thankful you’ve even gotten the chance to play girlfriend with him when he could’ve just embarrassed you and walked away after your proposal.

The deafening silence inside the car is very loud, and you feel like you’re suffocated by things unseen that you just want to get out of the car and take a very deep breath. So you do just that: reach for the door of his car because you can’t take being so close to him anymore.

It’s your fault. You shouldn’t have asked for this. Shouldn’t have asked for a taste of heaven because surely you would want more and you’ll die of thirst right after. Now you’re just going to be awkward with him until god knows when and you’re regretting it already. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You should’ve been satisfied with your close friendship with him, with loving him from afar. Now you’ve ruined things between you and him and who knows when things will get back to normal? He’ll fucking think of you as pathetic and it’s just going to be pity in his eyes everytime he looks at you now.

“Hey!” Jeonghan jumps in alert the moment you step out of his car, quickly follows through and catches you before you take another step away from him. “What–why are you in such a hurry?”

You look down to your shoes, because you can’t stomach looking at him right now just in case you’ll see what you fear will be reflected in his eyes.

“Hey… Look at me?” He tries once again, tone getting a little helpless. But you shake your head, because you’re sure you’ll start crying if you do and you want to preserve the little dignity you still have in front of him. But Jeonghan doesn’t stop there, he whispers a ‘please?’ and lifts your chin gently so you’ll look at him, his heart breaking when he sees how close you are to tears and his throat closing at how he’s the reason behind all this.

“Thank you.” You brave yourself. It’s the least you can do, because as much as you’re going to grovel for the next few months, you know that this particular memory with Jeonghan will always be dear to your heart and you’ll treasure it forever. “I’m sorry for taking your time and–”

“Ah, fuck it.” You hear him say before he dives into your lips, not minding the way you’re frozen in place out of shock. He hums against your lips, and it’s then that you finally kiss him back, your hands settle over his shoulders and your whole body relaxed under his touch.

When the both of you pull away, you’re a little out of breath and your thoughts all over the place. But there’s a small smile in Jeonghan’s face that gets you mirroring the gesture. He closes his eyes as he places his forehead on yours, and you follow suit, feeling the warmth of his breath on your face.

“It’s… okay for me to do that, right?” He asks, albeit a little too late. You still don’t know what the whole things mean, but you find yourself chuckling, because you honestly would let him do anything to you. But he doesn’t need to know the kind of power he has over you, so you simply nod and let him have his peace.

“Han?” You say after a while. “What does this mean for us?”

Jeonghan stares into your eyes, deep in his own thoughts as if he’s trying to rearrange his words so they don’t stumble out of his mouth like a trainwreck.

“Let’s see where this takes us?”

“But Shua…?”

He presses his lips together and wraps his arms around you, pushing you into his neck as he breathes in your scent.

“Whatever happens, happens.” He decides, already resigning that he can’t possibly let you go now that he knows how it feels like to have you like this. He’ll make your brother understand somehow, but right now, he wants to be with you and savors the little time he has with you before your brother comes back, not even minding the way his phone has been vibrating in his pocket.

[Joshua sent a picture.]

Joshua: heard from Jisoo you’re on a date w my sister??????????????????

Joshua: did you finally get out of your ass and stop being in denial lmaoooooooooooooo

Joshua: just pls be safe

Joshua: she’s still my sister

Joshua: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

©wonwoonlight – all rights reserved. I don’t allow any reposting, translation, and any other kind of redistribution of this fic. Please tell me if you’re aware of anyone doing this without my permission.

[valentinesworld4ever]

Can you please write some soft Ticci Toby??? Like the reader insists on taking care of him for once

Care for me!

A/n; anon omg I LOVVVVEEEE this pls, also sorry if this isn't what you wanted 😭

Summary; toby never had someone to care for him, so when you come along and decide to do just that? Well one things for sure, you're never gonna get rid of him

Warnings!; general fluff, mentions of abuse, killing and wounds, Toby's bpd acting up especially towards the end

Toby didn't have much experience, he had obviously dated clockwork for a year or so but again but they both had their own issues meaning the two of them never had the time to comfort each other, their lack of experience and the trauma in which broke them up, but when you came into his life that changed? How could it not. To set the scene imagine this, Toby had just finished up from a mission, the person he killed putting up a tough fight leaving him scratched, cut and generally emotionally hurt, it was never easy to kill someone, but when they're fighting so much harder to stay alive? It really took it out of him.

But you, oh you, you were so kind, the newest to the mansion at the time, your soft gaze widening when seeing the tears well in his eyes, your soft hands grabbing his and asking him what was wrong? He liked you instantly, you didn't care to judge him for crying, you never judged him for asking for help cleaning his wounds and for that he truly knew you were someone he wanted to be around.

Toby after that moment never wanted much more from this friendship, not until at the dinner table your fingers intertwined with his, almost as if you knew he was beginning to panic, he knew he was whipped, his brown eyes staring into yours, and for a second the world stopped.

And toby again didn't expect this to continue, who would want to be his friend, to look after him, so he tried to put an end to this and make you NOT like him, but when he came home one night after being gone all week only to be met with your crying face, asking him where he had been and how you thought he was dead, he knew he just had to kiss you, and that's what he did, kissing you between his apologies, telling you how he'd never leave you again, and for a moment just a moment the world stopped again

[idontknowtheendd]

I wonder if youve ever seen Buffalo66 it always makes me think of Kidnapper!rafe 🫢

a/n: I ADORE buffalo 66. thinking of the car scene with him… oh yes oh yes pls.

ALSO, i know that @nemesyaaa made a buffalo 66 au first!! Go check hers out too!! I just wanted to put it out there i am in no way trying to copy anyone, just answering an ask (:

warnings: kidnapper!rafe, mentions of guns and murder !

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, fixing your hair and clutching your bag closer to your side as you opened the door, spotting a man standing there on the pay phone. You heard him shouting at his mom from inside, and you could only wonder what he was talking about.

You began to walk past him, when he turned to look at you, phone now hung back up.

“Excuse me, miss.” He spoke, running a hand through his buzzed hair. You stopped in your tracks, standing in front of him, looking at him with confusion written on your face. He stepped back, glancing around the place, before his hand shot up, putting one hand over your mouth, and grabbing your body with his other, holding you back when you attempted to run.

You let out a muffled scream for help, his mouth ghosting over the outer shell of your ear as he leaned in. “Shut up, shut the fuck up.” He murmured in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “Don’t say a word or I’ll take it right out of your face.” He told you, you still attempting to fight against him, but he was too strong for you.

“Shut your mouth, shut your mouth.” And finally, you listened. You stopped fighting, tears beginning to run down your face. He began to walk, and forced you to walk along with him. He dragged you down a hallway, and then down a stairwell.

“Just shut up and you’ll be okay.” He told you as he pulled you outside, you began to let out whines against his hand, in hopes that someone, anyone would hear. But with his hand still on your mouth, it was useless. He shoved you against the car, repeating the words “Shut up!”

He finally took his hands off of your mouth to push the car door open, his body pressed against yours to keep you pinned to the car.

“You’re hurting me!” You complained.

“Yeah?” He asked breathily, “Shut your mouth or I’ll really hurt you. You want me to really hurt you?” He retorted, opening your car door and shoving you in. “Get in the car. Get in, c’mon!”

You went into the passengers seat, him getting in the drivers.

“How do I get this thing back?” He asked, you furrowing your eyebrows. You breathed heavily, him looking at you. “Point to the thing!”

“Right there.” You moved it for him, the car starting.

“I can’t see out the window. Give me something to wipe the window.” He panted, running a hand through his head again. “Give me something to wipe the window!” He repeated louder when you made no movement. You listened, swallowing the lump that formed in your throat.

“Okay, you know what? You go out. You clean it. Get out of the car.” He told you, you standing up quickly and grabbing the wipes, him following you outside while you scrubbed the windows down, before he got angry and shoved his body up against yours again, moving your hands faster.

“Hurry up, I don’t got all day.” He spoke, “see how it is when you fucking wash your car? See how nice? God, this is filthy. Is that how your house is? Filthy like that?” He chastised, moving you both to the other side of car, getting both sides of the window. “Now you can see. That’s good. That’s good.” He told you, walking you over to the passenger side again.

“Get in your car, c’mon. Hurry up.”

“Stop!”

“Get in. And shut your mouth.” He told you, shoving you into the seat once again. “Shut your mouth.” He told you, before rounding the other side of the car, “filthy. Filthy.” He shook his head to himself.

“Alright where’s the thing in the car… how do you put it in gear?” He asked you, shoving multiple buttons.

“Right here.” You murmured, grabbing the shift. He fumbled with it.

“What is this? Is this… a shifter car? I cannot drive a shifter car, alright? So we got a little situation here. I cannot drive these kinda cars.”

You looked down, not sure of how to reply. But you couldn’t help the small smile forming on your face, finding it rather humorous.

“What? You think that’s funny? Would you like to know why I can’t drive this kind of car? I’ll tell you why. I’m used to luxury cars. Do you know what a luxury car is? Do you even know what luxury means? I drive a goddamn Ferrari. The new one, too. A Ferrari 275 GTS. That’s what I drive. I drive cars that shift themselves, my cars shift themselves. They’re luxury cars, they shift themselves.” He rambled, talking to you as if you were a child.

“So when I say three, you follow my count, you come around to my door, got me?” He told you, turning to face you.

You stared at him, pout visible on your face. He held his fingers up, his gaze never leaving yours.

“One… two… three.” He said slowly, you still staring at him, not making any move. He groaned in annoyance, grabbing your jaw, pulling you closer to him, his breath fanning over your face.

“What did I just say? How hard is it to follow goddamn directions?” He asked you, your lips parting slightly. He huffed, letting go of your jaw, and pointing to the door behind you.

“One, two, three, get out of the car. Get out the car.” He pointed to the door, you finally moving and opening the door, him doing the same.

“And I’m watching you. I’m watching you.” The both of you passed each other, him pointing at you. “And don’t make that face. Don’t make that face.” He rounded to the passenger seat before you made it to the drivers, him shouting one last “hurry up!”

You opened your drivers door, sitting in the seat. “Now pull away.”

You began to do so, “and go this way.” You didn’t go that way.

“This way!” He repeated, you finally listening, starting your car and beginning to drive where he told you.

“Fucking finally.” He murmured under his breath, you glancing at him as he leaned back in his seat.

[wlfchnlv3r]

Hehe can I request anything with changbin please pookie

Sticky

Bimbo! Fem reader x soft boyfriend! Changbin

Synopsis: You boyfriend is so needy in the morning and as he always says “morning sex is the best sex” or something like that🎀

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: smut, fluff, sex, unprotected sex (don’t do that at home pls), riding, belly bulge, size kink, fluff pt2.

Note: I really don’t know, I function in reverse(?), I mean- in the last period I’m reading books like “little stranger” so, not a light reading, but when I write i want to add fluff scenes and a lots of love.

It is exactly 5 am and you are pace fully sleeping in your hello kitty pyjamas near your boyfriend, Changbin, who is now awake.

His eyes slowly opening to the sight of your sleeping form next to him. He couldn’t help but immediately feel his hard cock between his legs.

He shifted himself, moving closer to you and wrapping an arm around your waist. He nuzzled his head into your hair, his lips lightly tracing over your ear as he spoke softly at first, "Babe..? Wake up..".

You move a little yawning.

Changbin smiles as you move, knowing you’re waking up now. He pulls you closer again, so that your back is pressed against his chest, his breath hot upon your neck.

"Wake up, babe..” your boyfriend whispered again, his free hand now beginning to lightly caress your hip.

You half open yours eyes at the sound of his voice, “mhh- what’s happening?”.

He chuckles at your sleepy voice, planting a small kiss upon your shoulder, “Come on, look at me, I wanna see your pretty face.." he whispers, before he starts to nip and suck on your neck, wanting to wake you up fully now.

You slowly turn around looking at him with sleepy eyes.

Changbin chuckles again, this time when he sees your messy sleep face. He smiles, his eyes looking down at you as he takes in your messy hair, half-closed eyes, and the sleep still in them from waking up so suddenly.

"There’s my sleepy beauty..” He whispers as his hand that was once on your hip, now moves to gently caress your cheek.

You immediately smile, your boyfriend is the most lovesick person on heart, with you at least, and you love him for that.

Changbin’s smile widens as you finally smile at him. He moves his head closer, leaning his forehead against yours as he caresses your cheek with his thumb, "Mm, you’re so cute first thing in the morning” he said, his eyes now looking over your face, scanning every feature and loving every second of it.

Your body instantly moves closer to his, holding onto him, “I love you, Binnie”.

Changbin wraps his arm around you, pulling you completely flush against him. He buried his head into the crook of your neck, nipping at your skin, and leaving small kisses as he replies back to you, "I love you more…” he mumbles, his hand on your back now slowly tracing patterns up and down your spine.

Your boyfriend continues to hold you close against him, his hands now slowly moving further down your back, and then lower to your hips. He begin to slightly grind his hips up against you, his head still buried into the crock of your neck, and his lips still on your skin, "You’re so sexy without even trying.." He mumbles in between kisses, his hands gripping your hips tighter now as he continues to grind slowly against you.

And there, you feel it, “Binnie..you are so hard”.

Changbin moans against your neck, his lips still leaving kisses upon it, but his body now completely flushed against yours, "Can you blame me? I woke up like this” he replies in a whisper, before giving a small bite upon your skin.

You smile widen, you’d do anything for him, “we should do something about it, mh?”.

He lets out a small moan at your suggestion, the sound muffled against your skin as he was still pressing kisses upon your neck, He lets out a shaky breath before speaking, his hips still pressed against yours, "Mm, you’ll take care of me, right babe?”.

You just nods, now fully awake.

He couldn’t resist the urge to pull away from you for a moment to look at your face. He moves his head and look down at you, his eyes filled with hunger and lust as he took in your smile.

Your boyfriend smirked, his hand that’s still on your hip, now moving to rest on your thigh, “Come here..” He whispers, his voice low as his hand squeezes your thigh and pull you even closer to him.

You take the chance to straddle his lap, positioning on top of him.

Changbin makes a small groan at the feeling of you straddling his lap, his hands now gripping your hips a bit tighter as he looks up at you, his eyes scanning your face, “You always look so good like this~” He teases, his hands sliding up now, now resting on your waist.

You slightly laugh, “on top of you?” you ask.

He smirks and nod, his eyes wandering down now to your hips, which were sitting in his lap and resting on his upper thighs, “Yeah.. and just look at your hips..” he said, his hands now gripping your hips a bit tighter and pulling you to grind down harder against him.

“Binnie- just let me pull of my hello kitty shorts and-“; Changbin’s breath hitched at your words, his head slightly tilting his head back as his hips involuntarily jerked up against you, “Yeah.. do it ” He whispers as he looks back up at you, biting down on his lip, his eyes glued to yours.

With the most ungraceful movement you pull of your shorts, followed by your panties.

Changbin’s breath hitched again as he watches you undress, his hands still on your hips, fingers pressing down into your skin slightly where he was gripping it.

He looks down between the two of you now, his eyes widening at the sight of you fully naked on his lap, “F-fuck” he mumbles in a low tone, his hands gripping your hips a bit more as he felt his breathing get a bit heavier.

You giggle and start to pull his boxer down his muscular legs “can I?”.

“Yeah, of course you can babe~” He replies, his hands moving to the waistband of his black boxers, slowly pushing them down. now completely bare in front of you.

He hums, his head falling forwards as his forehead now rested on your shoulder, his hot breath against your skin as he mumbled in a shaky voice, “And now you’re sitting on my lap with nothing on…how am I supposed to control myself?”.

You caress his cheek and slowly whisper “the other day you promise me i could ride you this time…”.

Changbin leans his head into your touch, still against your shoulder, and his eyes shutting as a shiver ran down his spine, “I did.. I did promise you that..” He mutters under his breath, still feeling your body sitting on his lap, straddling him and making him feel impatient.

“Wanna ride you, Binnie please…” you plea looking directly at him.

Your boyfriend eyes darkens at your request, a shiver running down his spine as he listens to your words. He quickly licks his lips, his eyes traveling down and then back up again as he let out a shaky breath, his mind imagining you on top of him, “God.. yeah, babe..” He whispers, his hands gripping your hips again, “Yes you can, go on”.

You smile proudly before beginning to lower yourself on his length “yeah- just- just let me adjust a little…you are so big”.

Changbin nods, his head falling back and closing his eyes, letting out a shaky breath as he feels you slowly lower down onto him. His hands grip your hips a bit tighter, as he holds himself back from involuntarily pushing you down in one quick motion, “G-gotta take it slow, babe… I-I’m sorry, I know I’m big..” He mutters, his eyes still shut, and his breathing a bit heavy.

As you try to take more inches he lets out a small groans, his head thrown back, with his breath labored as he feels you attempt to take all of him. His hands are digging his fingers into your hips, his patience practically wearing out at this point, “F-fuck.. you’re doing s-so good..” He mumbles, still feeling you slowly lowering down onto him and attempting to take all of him.

You whine, your hole a little swollen from the effort to adjust onto him, “just a bit more”.

Changbin groans again, his eyes closing and mouth hanging open as you whine, sounding wrecked and desperate already. His hands were still on your hips, his grip on you practically bruising with how tightly he was grasping them, “Y-yeah.. just a bit more for me, baby..” He mutteres, his voice strained as he could feel himself being taken in more and more by your pussy.

You close your eyes, it was always like this, even if you and your boyfriend were together since the first year of college, you always had problem adjusting to his length, “little help..?”.

Changbin nods in response, his eyes still closed as he’s focused on your every movement. He lets out a shaky breath before quickly opening his eyes, his hands moving up from your hips to your waist as he quickly helps you take him all in, ”H-hold on to me..” He mumbles, his eyes now looking directly at you, waiting for a reaction.

You whine and nod in response.

Changbin’s grip on your waist tightens a bit more than he lifts you up just slightly, helping you to fully take him in and then he lets you sink back down on his dick, a low and guttural moan escaping his lips, mixed with your name, “T-that’s it.. just like that..” He mutters, his eyes going dark and hungry again as he moves one hand from your waist up to your face, caressing your cheek.

You close your eyes, it was not pain but a little discomfort, that’s all, in a few minutes it passes.

Changbin watches you closely, his breathing a mixture of labored and shaky as he feels you adjusting to his length, a sense of satisfaction coming over him that he’s able to cause you to react and do that, “You can move when you’re ready, babe..” He mutters, his hand still on your face, gently caressing it as he waits for you.

After a few moments you start to slowly move on his cock.

Your boyfriends lets out a low groan, his head falling back again, his eyes shutting tight as he felt you start moving on him. His hands clenched around your waist and your hip, his breaths getting a bit more shakier, his mind losing its focus, “D-don’t go too slow, baby.. or I’m gonna lose my mind..” He mumbles, his voice strained.

You increase your pace, resting your hand on his muscular torso.

Changbin’s eyes squeezes shut tighter, his hips slightly rising up from the bed, matching the pace of your movements. His hands on you gripped again, leaving marks and bruising your skin as he holds himself back from taking more control over you, “F-fuck.. you’re doing so good for me..” he mumbles, his breathing labored and heavy, his body twitching occasionally due to the pleasure he was feeling from you.

His breaths were becoming shorter, his moans and curse words only getting louder as the only thing that could be heard between the two of you were the sounds of your skin against his, and the soft sound of the bed creaking.

After a few moments of your steady movement, Changbin seems to be getting more and more impatient, losing control as he lifts his head to look at you with his eyes half-hooded and darkened with more lust than before, “Mmmh.. faster.. I need you to go faster, babe,” Changbin grunted, his hands grabbing your hips and trying to pull you down harder, his own hips raising up to meet your movements at a stronger pace.

You whine loudly as his hips press roughly against yours, “f-fuck… I feel so full-“.

“You’re taking me so well..” He praises, his hands still on your waist as he tries not to move as he lets you feel him being completely inside.

You move faster now, trying to feel him more and more.

Your boyfriend has to close his eyes again, as he let himself get lost in the feeling of your body against his. His breathing was becoming heavier, his body starting to get a bit more impatient as he could feel the pleasure building up inside him. He groans and let out some more moans, still trying to hold himself back and let you keep control.

“F-fuck.. don’t s-stop,” he mutteres, his head still thrown back, his hands gripping you tighter.

“Binnie- want you to breed me” you admit, lost in pleasure.

Changbin’s eyes almost popped open after hearing your words, his brain instantly going blank as he processes what you just said. A mixture of a groan and and a huff escaped his lips as all the self-control that he was desperately trying to maintain, was starting to slip away just like that, ”Yeah.. yeah, you want me to breed you, right now?” He asks, his eyes opening again, completely dark and lustful now as he looks up at you.

“Y-yes- let’s get you out of this condom please- don’t like it”.

He nods, his eyes half-lidded again as he listens to your words, already knowing that your not a fan of it, but he wants to hear you say it again, “Yeah.. you don’t like it,” He confirmes, holding back from ripping it off himself. He slowly push out of you and start to take the condom off fully and pulling it on the pavement, ”You happy now, baby?” he asks, a hint of teasing in his voice as he looked up at you, his eyes still dark and hungry as he continues pulling you down on him.

Meanwhile you lower yourself on him again, returning to the precedent pace.

Changbin lets out a sound that’s mixed between a groan and a moan again in response, his hips twitch slightly, and his hands continues pulling you down against him, ”God, baby.. s-so good..” he mutters, his brain becoming a mess, as he’s now feeling you against him in an way that he hasn’t for the longest time.

At some point changbin changes position, placing right behind you, his hands resting on your hips.

You gasp a little feeling him moving a bit closer behind you, his hands still resting on your hips, and his body pressed up against yours, "I got you, baby," he whispers as he start to kiss your neck, one of his hands moving to your waist, and the other grabbing your shoulder, pulling you back against him.

With one deep thrust he’s inside you, he lets out a moan and a sound that’s a mixture between a whine and a groan as he feels your walls sucking his cock.

His arms are holding you tight against him, and his lips still on your neck, ”F-fuck.. baby..” he groans, his brain completely wrecked.

Your finger immediately tangles up in the bed sheets as you moan desperately.

Changbin’s hands are on your waist, holding you tight as he continues to move his hips back and forth against you, his lips now trailing down your neck, his breath hot against your skin as his mind is a total mess at this point. He’s lost all sense and control, the only thing on his mind, is losing himself in the feeling of being inside you right now with nothing between the two of you.

You guys are completely lost in each other at this point, making little to no sense as the sounds coming from this room and especially no worrying of the mess on the bed.

He has lost all control, his mind completely clouded with only one thing in mind, the pleasure and the feeling of being inside you right now, ”Babe.. you’re taking me so well..” He groans, burying his head against your neck, his lips against your skin.

You are so close, the sensation of him being inside of you never gets old, it’s always like the first time, “Binnie, I’m so close”.

Your boyfriend grunts in response, his breathing heavy and labored, his head still buried against your neck, “Me too.. me too, babe...”, his mind focused on holding on for just a little more. He could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge as well, his body starting to twitch, and his arms holding you tighter against him.

And as yours legs start to shake and you let your orgasm takes control, Changbin gives you a few deep thrust and he can’t hold on any longer, feeling your whole body shaking against him makes him finally let go over the edge as well. He makes sure to to spill his cum inside of you, not moving to prevent the liquid from dripping.

His breathing is slowly starting to even out, his head still buried against your neck, and he holds you close against his chest, "God.. you were so good for me”, he mutters against your skin, the sound of his voice still a bit shaky as he tries to regulate his heartbeat that’s starting to slow down.

Changbin takes another shaky breath before lifting his head up, and slowly pulls himself out of you, still holding you close against him. He slowly rolls over and lays on his back, pulling you with him, and holding you against his chest.

You try not to close your eyes because of how tired you are after taking him for so long.

Changbin notices you trying to keep your eyes open, and he lets out a small chuckle “you don’t have to force yourself, babe.. If you’re tired, just close your eyes. I got you..” he says, his voice still low and soft as he brushes his fingers through your hair while holding you close against him.

You yawn, “but- we need to clean up… everything is sticky”.

Changbin shakes his head, and gives you a small smile, ”Don’t worry about that right now, we can do that later. Right now, I just want to hold you “, he says gently, pulling you closer against him, and wrapping his arms around you, not letting you move away from him.

You nod and some minutes later you are already sleeping against him.

Just a few hours later Changbin lets out a yawn as he opens his eyes, and looks down at you in his arms, "Hey, sleepyhead...time to wake up.." he says, his voice low and soft, as he gently shakes you a little.

You move a little, “yeah…”.

Changbin smiles and kisses your forehead gently, "There we go, that's more like it.”, he says, ruffling your hair a little, "Now come on, we gotta clean up a bit.. We're a complete mess..".

You nod in agreement, “yeah- I’m sticky” you admit.

He sits up in bed, his eyes going over your body, and taking in the mess you guys made, "Yeah, sticky is one word for it.." He says with a small grin as he looks back at you, “Let's go take a shower, baby..".

You are a little sore but you manage to get up.

He can't help but notice your slight limp, and it only makes the small grin on his face grow. He moves to your side, wrapping an arm around your back, and supporting your weight, "Careful, babe.. here, lean on me..".

Changbin holds you close against his side, his arm around your back, and he slowly starts walking to the bathroom, making sure to keep you steady and don’t let you stumble, "There we go, that's a good girl..",

You are so grateful to have a boyfriend like him, for most of the guy you are just a cute face with a nice body but not for him.

He helps you wash your body, making sure he’s gentle and not putting too much strain on your legs. The two of you quickly wash up, and get out of the shower, Changbin grabs a towel, and starts to dry you off, his eyes roaming your body as he does.

“Thank you Binnie, I love you…” you says with a soft tone.

He looks up, his hands stopping the motion of drying your body, as a smile appears on his face, "Of course, babe.. I love you too.." he says, leaning up and giving you a small kiss on the forehead, before resuming drying your body off with the towel.

After putting on some clean clothes, Changbin helps you change the sheets on the bed, both of you working silently but in sync. He sneaks glances at you as you go, observing your movements and your expressions, and silently admiring your appearance. With the new sheets on the bed, he flops down on the bed, pulling you on top of him.

“Mh- we should do this more often- also, you give me the best belly bulge of my life” you giggle.

Your boyfriend lets out another soft chuckle, and you feel his lips turn into a smirk against your neck. One of his hands drifts down to your thigh, gripping it tightly, and squeezing it, "Best, huh? You don't think you could possibly take more then?" he asks, his voice sultry and low, the teasing hint clear in it as he nips at your neck.

“It’s a challenge?” you ask laughing.

Changbin lifts his head away from your neck to look up at you, his hand still on your thigh, and his grip tightening a little without him realizing it.

His eyes staring into yours as his lips curl into a smile, "Challenge, is a strong word, babe.. I was going to call it a mission..".

Taglist: @felixleftchickennugget @kiwininja35 @sweetpickledjins @slmnheart @elqivxstxr @catffeinexo-xx @multistancheck @justwonder113 @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @hello-stranger24 @raptorbait529 @cocofia143 @minniesverse @eastjonowhere

(Comment to be added to the master list🎐)