#if i had all the time in the world i would write this as a fully fleshed au

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Hate your guts (pt 1)

~ this fic is my Christmas gift💙 i'm dividing this into two parts bcs tumblr is shit

pairing: rockstar!hyunjin x rockstar afab!reader

genre: enemies to lovers, fluff, smut

wc: 26.6k

synopsis: hwang hyunjin, your sworn enemy. the person who finds and pushes all your buttons, annoys you and makes you angry. the person you're trying to avoid so badly, only to end up practically sharing a bed with him on tour. let the fun begin!

warnings: lots of swearing, smoking and alcohol, mentions of blood and throwing up, mild violence, multiple sex scenes, unprotected sex, oral (f and m), fingering, handjob, semi-public sex, spanking, creampies, mix of degradation and praise

a/n: thank you @frehyun for helping me come up with a name for hyunjin's band💕 also a thank you to @jehhskz @moonchild9350 and @hyunebunx for giving me suggestions, listening to me yap and being supportive while i was writing this🥹🩷🩷🩷 title is inspired by inji, go listen to her music🫶🏻

a little ramble: feel free to skip this! but i just wanted to say that this was supposed to be done sooner cause i had other fics planned out to write but work got in the way. so i wrote this fic whenever and wherever i could; hiding in the bathroom at work, during my break, at the bus station, at 3am when i couldn't sleep etc... it's been a ride and i'm proud of how it turned out, hopefully y'all enjoy it too🥹🫶🏻

“...And do you look into the mirror to remind yourself you’re there? Or have somebody’s goodnight kisses got that covered? When I’m not being honest, I pretend that you were just some lover…”

It was a perfect but short moment.

The fresh breeze coming into the car where the window was opened just a little was enough to give you some air but still managed to hide most of your face from the outside world. 

The music in your ears was loud, so loud that you were drowning in it, the warm and comforting voice, the melancholic guitar riff in the background, and the gentle sluggish drums putting it all together into a song that made your eyes water.

You tuned everything else out as this was the only moment of peace you were going to get today.

You needed every shred of sanity you could gather, and you were determined to hold onto it as much as you could.

Because today, you had an interview with him.

Hwang Hyunjin.

Oh, the name you know so well.

Even thinking about the way it sounds makes you feel angry.

It seemed as if his life mission was to find every single button of yours and push them repeatedly until you exploded like a ticking bomb.

Your mind wandered as you thought about him and how much his existence angered you, your stomach turning into knots.

Or maybe it was just pre-interview nerves.

No matter how many times you talked in front of the camera, it always made you feel anxious and jittery.

Being on stage was fun, there was no anxiety there as whenever you would step on it and see all the people cheering for you and singing along to the music you and your friends wrote, your heart felt full, your soul elated. 

It was an exhilarating feeling you couldn’t even begin to explain to someone who’d never experienced it.

Every concern in your head, every ache in your soul, every tear behind your eyelids threatening to spill got erased when you gave yourself to the stage.

If you could, you would definitely try to avoid the interviews and just perform.

But your record company had other plans.

Being the only up and rising all girls rock band in the company meant that you needed promotion, and what better way to promote than to collab with the only boy rock band in the same company?

Hwang Hyunjin’s band.

Yes, you couldn’t wait for this day to be over.

“Y/n!” you were shaken out of your thoughts, as your manager pulled at your headphones.

“What?” you almost snapped at her, startled by her antics.

“You were staring off into space and muttering angrily about Hyunjin. Something like ‘poke his eyes out’ and ‘conceited dick’.” Ana giggled, covering her lips with her hand as you rolled your eyes, realizing that you’ve already arrived at the building for the interview.

“I’m sure you find all this amusing. But I am not amused at all. Last time I had an interview with that... bastard, everyone thought we were dating and started shipping us.” you recoil at the thought. “I would never date someone like him.”

“Oh y/n, lighten up! You know there will always be rumors of all kinds. The dating rumors are the least harmful ones, trust me. Just act like you’re besties with Hyunjin, for an hour tops.”

You take a deep breath in, then sigh.

“I am a professional. I will do this right.” you nod with a determined tone as Ana bumped her fist with yours.

“That’s the spirit!” your manager smacked your thigh happily as you yelped, making her laugh before she exited the car.

Since you were in the underground parking lot, there was no press around so you walked out of the car freely, going directly to the elevator that would take you to the reception.

Ana pressed the button when you walked in and just as the doors started closing, someone’s combat boot was pushed between the silver doors, stopping them and making them open again.

Your eyes traveled up from the boots, to the tight leather pants and the skimpy tank top revealing a tattoo sleeve, right to the face you hoped you won’t be seeing for at least another ten minutes.

Hyunjin had an obnoxious smirk dancing on his lips as he looked down at you, puffing his chest out like some peacock showing off his feathers and you already wanted to smack the shit out of him.

His manager, Anthony waved at the two of you, ushering him into the elevator.

“Good morning y/n, Ana.” Anthony greeted as Hyunjin kept smirking at you.

“It was good until now.” you crossed your arms over your chest.

Even the cologne Hyunjin was wearing made you want to puke your guts out so you stepped away from him.

A chuckle escaped his lips as he leaned on the wall casually, never taking his eyes off of you.

“Aw, you throwing a tantrum already baby?” he smirked at you and you started fuming.

Both of your managers rolled their eyes, Ana muttering ‘here we go again’ as she shook her head.

“I see you have a new piercing on your face. You needed another hole to let the air out of that empty head?” you said, trying to sound nonchalant and Hyunjin scoffed.

“I’m gonna ignore that comment and focus on the fact that you’re counting my piercings. Observing me, huh?” he looked at you smugly.

“Yeah, cause I have nothing better to do than-”

Ding!

“Alright, break it off kids, were here!” Anthony said, quickly pulling Hyunjin out of the elevator.

“See? I can’t stand him.” you groaned as Ana chuckled.

“You stood up to him pretty well.” Ana winked. “Let's go get some coffee, get you properly awake before the interview.” she gripped your shoulders, shaking you a little as you groaned in protest.

Thankfully, Hyunjin had disappeared somewhere and you were glad he wasn’t around to annoy you, as you made small talk with a few of the staff you knew there since you’ve already been interviewed for the same channel before. 

“Ana, I’m gonna go get some air before we start.” you felt the nerves creeping up inside you.

“Okay, but you have to be back in five minutes.” she reminded you and you gave her a thumbs up, before practically sprinting down the hall to get to the little terrace hidden on the side.

Staff used it for smoke breaks, and you decided to use it to calm your anxiety down.

You flung the door open and stepped out onto the balcony, quickly taking a deep breath in while you looked down at the city before you.

“Needed to see me once more before the interview?” a voice rang out to the left of you.

Hyunjin’s voice.

Of course the bastard is here, you thought, your face becoming hot in annoyance.

“I had no idea you were here, asshole.” you turned to look at him.

He was leaning on the railing, flexing his muscles, a long vein protruding under the layer of the swirling colorful flowers inked into his skin, leading all the way to his long fingers with chipped nail polish and a cigarette pinched between his thumb and index finger.

He looked at you intently through his bangs that were haphazardly falling into his eyes, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip, before his tongue poked out to play with the piercing adorning it.

“I thought you had more originality when it comes to nicknames, darling.” he said mockingly before taking another drag from his cigarette.

“Don’t call me that.” you turned around to leave but Hyunjin’s long arm quickly blocked your way, his palm splayed on the wall.

You looked up at him and stepped back, just as he puffed the smoke out your way.

“You leaving?” he looked smug again, intrusive thoughts of pushing him off the balcony appeared in your mind.

“Yes, this space is too small and your cologne is nauseating.” your face scrunches up.

“Aw, I’ll make sure to find another one you’d like.” Hyunjin smirks.

“Don’t bother.” you ducked under his arm and opened the door, walking away as fast as you could.

At least he helped in a way, you weren’t anxious anymore, just annoyed and waiting for this day to be over. 

“Where is Hyunjin, we’re starting in a minute.” Anthony’s brows furrowed while you were ushered towards the room. 

“Last I saw him, he was smoking on the balcony.” you shrugged as they sat you down. 

The chair where Hyunjin would be sitting was too close for comfort and you wanted so badly to push it away, but you figured it was there because of the camera frame. 

“We’re on in 30 seconds!” one of the staff yelled and you rolled your eyes. 

Of course he was late, the self-centered bastard. You were sure he was enjoying this, everyone waiting on his highness to arrive, everyone panicking around him as he wears that disgusting smug smirk on his face.

“In 10…9…” the staff started counting down just as the door swung open and a breathless Hyunjin ran into the room, almost tripping over your crossed legs before he sat down on the chair next to you. 

After he ran in, one of the girls working there ran in too, quickly taking her place with rosy cheeks and her lipgloss smeared. 

You rolled your eyes and looked at him, the glitter from the girl’s lipgloss was visibly shining on his lips and chin. 

“You have a little something.” you said and he smirked, wiping his chin off before leaning towards you.

“My lips were dry.” he whispered with a wink.

You were more than ready to get this over with, seething with anger at his unprofessional behavior that you didn’t even notice the camera began rolling. 

“... today’s special guests are y/n of Venus Flytrap and Hyunjin of Lycoris Radiata! I hope y’all are as excited as I am, since it’s been so long. Y/n, let’s start with you. You have a new album coming out soon, can we get a little sneak peek of that?” the interviewer, Sarah, asked as you adjusted on your chair. 

“This is our third album now, and this time Steph and Janey participated in the writing more than before, so the songs are really personal to all three of us.”

“Are we finally gonna hear about their love story?” Sarah wiggled her eyebrows. 

“We may.” you smirked at her, not wanting to reveal too much.

“How about yours?” she added on, in the corner of your eye you saw Hyunjin leaning towards you as he stared at you, manspreading like always, his knee knocking into yours. 

“Huh?” 

“Your love story. Is there a special guy or girl in your life?” the interviewer asked, making you feel annoyed instantly. 

You hated being asked questions like that, sometimes it felt like the music you were writing didn’t even matter, all people wanted to know was who you’re fucking. 

“Not at the moment, no.” you forced a smile so you don’t seem rude.

“I thought I was special.” Hyunjin chimed in next to you, bumping his shoulder against yours, that shit eating grin you hate spreading on his face.

Before you could answer, Sarah butted in. 

“Oh, is there something happening between you that we should know about?”

You could just hear the excitement in her voice, the hunger for drama dripping from her lips. 

“Nothing is happening, we just like to joke around like that.” you quickly answered, hoping to deflect her to another question, or that she’d finally talk to Hyunjin and ask him about his new song, so you could take a few moments to breathe. 

“So, you two are close?”

Oh no. 

Here it goes again. 

Last time this happened, your name got dragged on every social media platform.

People who were shipping the two of you got on your nerves, but that wasn’t the biggest problem.

No, it was the people who had sent you hate and death threats, telling you if they saw you next to Hyunjin again you’d be dead. 

It took a toll on your mental health and scared you since you know people can easily find an address or stalk you somewhere and you wanted to avoid any rumors that would endanger your well-being. 

“We're just coworkers.” to your surprise Hyunjin answered nonchalantly, saying exactly what you wanted to say so people would leave you alone. 

Why was there a weird feeling in your chest then?

“Well, sometimes there’s passion at the workplace.” Sarah wasn’t giving it up and you were close to losing your temper and telling her to shove it already, ask some less invasive questions. 

“No passion here, our relationship is strictly professional.” you said, but your skin burned where Hyunjin’s thigh pressed against yours.

In your mind you were cursing both him and Sarah, and even your manager for bringing you here.

Thankfully, she left it at that, continuing with questions about your upcoming tour and Hyunjin’s new song. 

As soon as the interview finished and you were done shaking hands, Ana came to you, her hand on your shoulder as she squeezed. 

In the corner of your eye, you saw Hyunjin slip out of the room.

“Good job.” she smiled as Anthony joined the two of you. 

“I hope you’re hungry, y/n. This time it’s my treat, and there’s this restaurant…”

You tuned Anthony out, completely forgetting that after an interview like this, the tradition is to have dinner with Hyunjin and his manager. 

“Can we skip dinner this time? I just wanna go home and lay down.”

“Nonsense, I hear your stomach growling from here. Come on, it’s free food you can’t say no.” Anthony made a goofy face, hoping to win you over.

“Fine, you had me at free food.” you sighed as Ana nodded with a smile.

“Good! Now where is our other rockstar?” he quickly looked around. “I swear, sometimes I feel like I’m a babysitter, not a manager.”

“I’ll go find him.” you offered, wanting to leave the building as soon as possible.

“Sure.” Ana nodded and you made your way down the hall.

Your footsteps echoed in the empty space, until you came closer to a corner where the sounds of hushed voices and giggles filled up your ears and made you roll your eyes. 

“You know I can’t give you my number, baby. But if there is an empty room around here somewhere…” Hyunjin was talking to the girl from earlier, leaning over her body as she stared up at him like he was a god, her back against the wall.

You cleared your throat, crossing your arms on your chest. 

Both of them looked up at you, Hyunjin giving you a smirk as he straightened up and the girl glared at you but you didn’t give a shit. 

“We need to leave right now. Our managers are waiting for us.” you said simply as the girl whined. 

“Shh, maybe some other time.” he shushed her, leaning towards her and your stomach flipped in disgust. 

He didn’t kiss her, just taunted her before he leaned back and made his way towards you. 

“Cockblocker.” he stuck his tongue out, the piercing adorning it catching the light for a moment. 

“Do you even know her name?” you asked, keeping a fast pace and a good distance away from him.

“No. Does it matter?” he shrugged, his long legs quickly catching up to you in big strides.

“You’re despicable.” your face scrunched up in disgust as you neared the elevator where your managers were waiting and chatting. 

“Throwing some big words around. You sure you know the meaning?” he smirked.

“That’s it.” you said angrily.

“What? You just basically told me I deserve to be hated just cause I wanted to have some fun.” 

You looked at him, full on ready to slap him across his face but Ana stepped between the two of you. 

“Fighting again? Can the two of you behave for just one evening?” Anthony frowned with a sigh as he called the elevator. 

“I can behave.” Hyunjin clicked his tongue cheekily before playing with his lip ring again. 

“Y/n?” Ana looked at you. 

“As long as he doesn’t talk to me, I’ll be fine.” you turned away from Hyunjin, stepping into the elevator. 

This is going to be one awkward dinner. 

-

Choosing to disconnect in the van you put your earphones in, ignoring Hyunjin’s presence right next to you. 

It’s like your managers wanted to have you two as close as possible, like they thought it’d make you hate each other less but at this moment there was nothing more you wanted than to get away from him. 

Or maybe your managers wanted to be closer to each other, you smirked to yourself as Ana twirled her hair around her finger, giggling at something Anthony said. 

You leaned back as the music flooded your ears, your figure slightly turned towards the window as you watched the street lights pass you by, totally unaware of a pair of eyes that were glued to you.

Hyunjin observed you in detail, how shiny your hair was as it cascaded down your back and shoulders, how your brows were slightly creased and your lips pouty as you listened to your music, the steady rise and fall of your chest, the way your fingers played with the hem of your shirt as you pulled on it, how pretty the rings adorning your fingers were, how the necklace you always wore laid gently on your collarbone.

No little detail was skipped as he drinked it all in, thinking you wouldn’t notice. 

But after some time as it got even darker outside, you caught Hyunjin’s reflection in the window as he stared at you with a look on his face that you’ve never seen before. 

Your stomach suddenly swirled as the two of you made eye contact on the glass, Hyunjin’s plump lips falling open before he sat up and looked away, acting like nothing happened. 

The rest of the ride was uneventful and you were tired of this day, having to look at Hyunjin was more exhausting to you than being on stage.

You couldn’t wait to get into your bed and disappear. 

As you walked into the restaurant, you were led to a table and you could see a few people whispering and pointing at you but usually they didn’t bother you much. 

However, this time was different. 

As you scanned the menu, a girl timidly approached your table and you looked up at her as she stood next to Hyunjin. 

“I’m - I’m sorry to bother you but I’m a really big fan and I was wondering if you’d take a picture with me?” she asked Hyunjin who immediately smirked at her.

“No pictures allowed. But you can get his signature.” Anthony chimed in. 

“And who the fuck are you?” the girl changed her demeanor right away, making Hyunjin chuckle.

“Easy there, sweetheart, that’s my boss.” he wiggled his eyebrows at the girl. “Come on I’ll give you a sign and you can write me your number, maybe I’ll call you, hm?” Hyunjin winked at her and you just about lost your appetite completely.

“Oh, sure, I’d love that!” she let out a nasally laugh as he signed a napkin with a pen she somehow produced, giving it back to her as she leaned over to write her number down, making sure her tits were right in his face before she skipped back to her friends. 

“Can there be at least one minute when you’re not trying to fuck something that walks?” you looked at him annoyingly and he laughed.

“Thought you weren’t talking to me.” he smirked. 

“Ugh, you’re so annoying!” you were ready to smack him with the menu in your hand but Ana caught your wrist. 

“I bet you love that about me.” he kept smirking. 

“Love is nothing near what I feel about you.” you said, your teeth gritted.

“There’s a fine line between love and hate, you know.” Hyunjin smirked, leaning into your personal space. 

“Anyways, guys. What are you ordering? Their steak is really good.” Anthony gave an awkward smile as he looked around the table. 

“I want the tomato pasta.” Hyunjin leaned back, making you cackle.

“Isn’t that the kids menu? Makes sense for you somehow.” 

“I’m saving room for dessert.” he winked at you, his tongue running over his lip tentatively, the piercing on it catching the light again. 

“Ew.” you jolted in disgust as he laughed loudly, obviously finding enjoyment in ticking you off. 

The dinner part of the outing was uneventful as everyone ate and made small talk but you didn’t miss how Hyunjin crumpled up the napkin with the fan’s number and threw it aside on the table, not caring about it. 

What an asshole. 

“Let’s make a little toast to this evening and the upcoming albums and tour.” Ana proposed as she lifted her glass up. 

“To us.” Hyunjin smirked as he looked at you. 

“To rock’n’roll!” you added as the four of you clinked your glasses together before taking a big swig of your drinks.

Hyunjin didn’t look at you on the drive home. 

-

Rehearsal was supposed to start at 9am sharp, but you were there bright and early, tuning your guitar. 

Being an early bird, you loved the few moments of peace you could have to yourself, just you and your music. 

Your hand glided easily on the guitar’s neck, taking shapes familiar to your hands, it was muscle memory by now, your fingers picking on the strings and creating the melody you played countless times before. 

You let your voice ring out in the space freely as you sang a song dear to your heart, one you wrote when you were younger. 

You’d always start warming up by singing it to yourself, never having the need to actually put it out into the world. 

You got into it, your eyes closed as you sang with a small smile on your face, the entire world around you disappearing shortly. 

In the distance, you heard footsteps and voices belonging to your bandmates and just as you opened your eyes, you looked through the glass on the door, a shadow slithered across the wall outside, disappearing around the corner.  

You squinted your eyes and stood up, putting your guitar aside and coming closer to the door. 

Just as you were about to reach towards the doorknob, the voices got louder. 

“Are we seriously doing this right now?” Janey asked, the tone of her voice angry. 

“I’m telling you, it was nothing! I don’t know who she is and why she’s texting me!” Steph defended herself as Janey scoffed.

“I’m sick of your excuses. I’m gonna give you one last chance to make it up to me and be truthful, but after that I’m done.” you stepped back as Janey came into view, opening the door angrily.

“Oh, y/n.” she widened her eyes slightly. “Good morning.” she added, scurrying past you to take her place behind the drum kit. 

Steph walked in with a scowl on her face, muttering a ‘morning’ before going straight to her bass guitar. 

It wasn’t the first time they fought or even broke up.

There were many times you had to be the mediator between them, trying to get them to communicate and even though it was frustrating, you didn’t want them to give up on their relationship easily and you couldn’t really take sides since they were both your friends. 

“Shall we?” you asked and they nodded. 

It took some warming up as always but soon you got into the groove, rehearsing for a small performance that was happening tonight.

You were excited because during the performance you planned to reveal your new song and see how people like it in person. 

The only thorn in your eye was the fact that Hyunjin’s band will be there too, performing right after yours. 

You were dreading to see him again, since that interview last week you had managed to avoid him skilfully, but you couldn’t hide forever. 

And even though your rehearsal went somewhat smoothly, there was tension in the air and you didn’t like that feeling.

It felt like a storm was coming and you weren’t sure if you’re ready to take it on. 

-

Evening came around quickly, everyone was already gathered backstage and you were dressed and ready, having rehearsed once more on the stage, tuning your guitars and getting ready for the most fun part. 

You peered from the back, seeing all the people gathering made your heart swell, a smile spreading on your face automatically. 

“Quite a turn out, huh?” 

Your eye literally twitched when you heard Hyunjin’s voice behind you, too close for comfort as his figure loomed over you and you felt the warmth of his body on your back.

You turned your head slightly as he peered down at you with that annoying smirk you absolutely hate. 

“Of course.” you said, squeezing your body between him and the curtain, ignoring him calling after you as you walked away as fast as you could.

You’re not gonna let him ruin tonight for you. 

It was time to go on stage anyways.

You and your girls did a little cheer as tradition before the performance, Ana coming up to hug you and wish you good luck. 

“Break a leg.” Hyunjin appeared out of nowhere and you only rolled your eyes before whipping around and almost smacking him with your hair as you made your way towards the stage. 

As soon as you walked out, loud screams filled up your ears and everything negative was forgotten and locked away in a drawer in the back of your mind. 

“Are you ready to rock tonight?!” you screamed out into the mic as the three of you took your positions. 

Hyunjin watched you from the side with an unreadable look on his face, but you weren’t even aware of it and you didn’t care. 

All you cared about was this moment. 

The moment where you get to share your love for music with thousands of people. 

It was exhilarating, watching the mass of bodies sway like one, hearing all the people singing the lyrics you wrote in unison. 

Nothing could compare to this and every time you stood under that light, you knew you were born for this. 

Giddy from everything, you skipped backstage once you finished playing the last song; which happened to be the new one and people more than loved it judging by their excited screams. 

“That was amazing!” Ana met you halfway, giving high fives to all three of you.

You were still trying to catch your breath as you giggled, when Hyunjin appeared next to you again. 

“Aren’t you gonna wish me good luck?” he smirked at you, shamelessly giving you the elevator eyes. 

“Good luck guys!” Janey yelled at all four members with a smile and a thumbs up but Hyunjin shook his head. 

“I want her to say it or I’m not going out on stage.” he crossed his arms on his chest, pouting and tapping his foot like a child about to throw a tantrum. 

“Come on, Hyun, we need to get out there!” Aiden, the band’s bassist called out. 

“Not moving until y/n wishes me good luck.” he quickly shook his head, his fluffy hair shaking with it and you thought how he resembled a dog; in more ways than one. 

“Fine you spoiled brat. Good luck.” you said sarcastically and he scoffed. 

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he smirked, leaning into your personal space again. 

“Get on the stage, Hyunjin.” you sighed and he chuckled in delight. 

“Watch me closely.” he winked before running off. 

“I can just cut the tension in the air with a knife.” Steph smirked at you, wiggling her eyebrows. 

“Oh, fuck off!” you said, smacking the back of her head as she cackled. 

You did end up watching Hyunjin’s band perform after refreshing yourself, but pretty soon you’ve come to regret that decision. 

He was wild while performing, stripping out of his jacket as he screamed into the mic, sweating under the bright lights pointed directly at him making him look like an insane glazed donut as he strutted around the stage acting all smug even though he tripped over his dumb long legs multiple times. 

He’d lean over towards his little groupies, holding their hand or caressing their faces, blowing them kisses and whatnot, all of that behavior making your gut churn in disgust. 

The last straw was when he laid down on his back and started humping the air while moaning into the mic. 

Even though the crowd screamed louder than before and the horny fans almost started hyperventilating, you felt second hand embarrassment at witnessing this. 

Hyunjin continued moaning before he threw his head back, his eyes locking with yours. 

A shiver ran down your spine as he smirked at you, all sweaty, his hair sticking to his forehead, his piercings shining in the light, the veins on his neck visible and his cheeks red. 

A warmness spread in your navel as he winked, licking at his lip slowly, taunting you before he moaned extra loudly, the pornographic sound echoing in your ears. 

You frowned suddenly at your heart beating fast and your legs pressing together. 

What the fuck is wrong with me?, you thought, quickly shaking your head as he finally looked away from you and stood up. 

Of course, he got showered by multiple bras on stage, you think you even caught a glimpse of someone throwing their panties and you couldn’t watch anymore. 

It was truly disgusting. 

You quickly shoved past some staff members watching and gasping at whatever Hyunjin was doing now. 

Pushing past everyone, you made your way outside to get some fresh air in the hidden area behind backstage, where staff and musicians usually smoked or chilled after a performance. 

You greeted some of the staff before finding a spot where you could be alone. 

You were about to relax when you heard kissing sounds and as you turned to look around the corner you saw Steph kissing some random girl. 

You couldn’t contain the gasp that flew out of your mouth, making them jolt away from each other. 

Steph’s eyes widened when she saw you and you quickly spun around, noticing Janey had just walked outside too and started looking around. 

“Y/n, wait!” Steph yelled behind you. “It’s not what you think! Please, don’t tell Janey!” she looked at you desperately but you hated cheaters more than anything, seeing her betrayal with your own eyes broke any sort of connection you had with her. 

“Isn’t it? Your tongue was down some girl’s throat. Now, what do you call that?” you scoffed.

“What?” Janey appeared next to you, just as the girl who Steph was kissing before stood behind her. 

“It’s not like that, I-”

You could see Janey’s eyes filling up with tears. 

“That’s it, I’m done. With you and with the band. With everything.” you gasped when she said that, your eyes wide. 

“Janey, don’t be like that, it didn’t mean anything to me-” Steph started.

“Liar, you told me you’d leave her for me.” the girl behind Steph chimed in. 

“Oh, so this has been going on for some time?” Janey looked between Steph and the girl. 

“Let’s talk about this inside.” you tried to lead them in as people were whispering and looking at the four of you. 

“I have nothing else to say. I’m sorry, y/n. I can’t be a part of this band anymore when all it’s gonna do is remind me of this cheating whore.” Janey spat before turning around and leaving. 

“Okay, I deserve that but like I’m sorry that-”

“Save it, Steph. I can’t believe you did this. You put your desires over the well-being of our band. You do understand that your actions not only affect Janey, but also me, Ana and the rest of the record company?” you asked her, your blood boiling with anger. 

“I- I’m sorry, let me make it right. I’ll talk to Janey and she’ll forgive me once she understands-” 

“You think I want you to be part of the band after this? That’s rich.” you turned around too, in hopes of finding Janey. 

“Y/n, you can’t throw me out of the band!” Steph yelled behind you. 

“I just did.” you said coldly before opening the door and rushing into the backstage room. 

“Is Janey here?” you asked Ana and before she could answer, someone bumped into you rather strongly, making you stumble backwards a little.

You turned around angrily, noticing a very sweaty and breathless Hyunjin staring at you with a smile, his tongue lolling out of his lips as he played with his piercing. 

“So, did you like my performance?” he winked at you. “Did it get you excited?” the famous shit eating grin spread on his face as he leaned in closer to you, a few droplets of sweat dripping from his hair.

“I don’t have time for your games, Hyunjin. Please leave me alone.” you said annoyingly, noticing he had a bra hooked around his hand.

“What’s going on?” Ana asked, looking at you confusedly.

You were shaken up, the anger you felt manifesting into tears and you cursed yourself for being so emotional and quick to cry. 

“Woah, you’re crying!” Hyunjin stepped even closer to you but you’ve had enough of him. 

“Get away from me, asshole!” you channeled all your anger his way as you pressed your hands on his chest, pushing him away. 

Hyunjin stumbled with a gasp, a shocked look on his face. 

“What the hell is happening here?” Anthony quickly came to Hyunjin’s side as his bandmates watched everything unfold. 

“Ana, can we talk in private?” you glared once more at Hyunjin and she quickly nodded, hooking her arm with yours and taking you away from the scene. 

Hyunjin watched your figure disappear out of view with a deep frown on his face. 

-

It’s been a dreadful week.

You’ve tried talking to Janey multiple times, begging her to come back, promising to her that you wouldn’t let Steph come anywhere near her. 

Sadly, Janey was insistent on not wanting to continue with the band since lots of the songs were written by her and her now ex girlfriend who betrayed her in such an ugly way. 

You talked to Ana almost every day on the phone but you weren’t up for any visits, choosing instead to wallow in your sadness. 

Your band fell apart, your friends were no longer together, your album couldn’t be published and people were speculating, spreading rumors, you were getting numerous curious comments asking what happened to Venus Flytrap. 

You had no idea what to do at that moment. 

You just needed some time to yourself to figure out what your next step should be. 

You were lounging in your bed when your phone buzzed for the hundredth time.

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed it and saw that you had a text message from an unknown number. 

???: hey there pretty girl! don’t be so sad! there are worse things than your band falling apart. 

you: what, like death? and who is this? 

???: your favorite person in the whole world<3 

you: hyunjin?? 

???: aw i knew i was your favorite!

You started seething immediately as you sat up, your heart beating fast instantly as you worked yourself up into annoyance.

You quickly put his contact under ‘asshole’. 

you: no, i knew that a conceited answer like that can only come from an asshole like you.

you: now, what do you want?

asshole: did you save my contact as asshole? or dickhead? which one is it?

you: wouldn’t you like to know. seriously what the hell do you want. i’ll block you if you don’t get on with it

asshole: just wanted to see if you maybe want to talk to someone

you: if i did, i wouldn’t choose you. have a nice day away from me hyunjin

Hyunjin didn’t answer your last text, instead he left you on read and you tossed your phone across your bed, now feeling even more infuriated than before. 

You squinted your eyes, grabbing your phone again and texting Ana.

you: did you give my number to hyunjin??

Ana: i’m sorry! he wouldn’t stop bugging me about it! pls don’t be mad

Just great. 

Why is he insisting on annoying you even when you feel down in the dumps, you thought, he always has to come in and make you feel even more mad. 

You were hoping that with your last text he’d finally leave you alone.

You also hoped you wouldn’t be seeing him any time soon.

But boy, you couldn’t be more wrong.

-

“What?!” you yelled so loudly that it echoed off of the office walls.

“Y/n, please we don’t know any other solution. Lycoris Radiata is going to tour in 4 days and you’re the only person who knows their songs by heart. You can also kick ass with drums. And well, you’re kinda free now.” Anthony grimaced. 

“You can’t do this to me. I can’t spend so much time with Hwang Hyunjin!” you whined like a child, kicking your legs under the table as Ana gave you an apologetic look.

“Gossiping about me?” Hyunjin strolled in, with that annoying smirk, his hair in a little ponytail, showing more of his ear piercings and his sharp jawline. 

He took off his leather jacket, throwing it haphazardly on the chair before he plopped down into it. 

He spun around in the chair to face you as you looked at him with a scowl on your face.

Brendon, his guitarist and Aiden joined the meeting right after that.

“So, ready to be my new drummer?” Hyunjin wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“Not a chance in hell.” 

“Y/n, please, we have no other choice! Phil had to leave so suddenly due to his sickness. We couldn’t be prepared for something like that. We can’t afford to postpone the tour now.” Brendon pleaded as Aiden nodded next to him. 

You leaned back into the chair, pursing your lips as you gave it a thought.

Of course they’d choose you. 

You knew their songs by heart since you shared so many tours together but you had your own bus and mostly ran into Hyunjin either backstage or at an afterparty but if you would become a part of his band you’d spend most of your time with him. 

But this could be good for you to give yourself time to decide what you wanna do next while touring with Lycoris Radiata. 

And since you were a multi instrumentalist, playing the drums wouldn’t be a problem for you.

You smirked suddenly before tilting your head at Hyunjin. 

“Fine. I will tour with you under one condition.” you said. 

“Anything!” Anthony piped in but you kept staring at Hyunjin. 

“I want you to beg.” your smirk deepened and Hyunjin’s eyes widened slightly, his fingers twitching against his thighs. 

“What?” he blinked repeatedly and you chuckled under your breath. 

“Beg me to join your band or I’m not doing it.” 

Hyunjin’s lips opened and closed a few times before he frowned.

“I don’t beg. I demand.” he smirked, taunting you.

“Well, in case you haven’t noticed, you’re in no position to have demands. However, I am. So if I want you to beg, Hyunjin, you’re gonna beg.” you sat up straight as he looked at you in pure shock. 

“My, my darling. I didn’t know you were this commanding. I kinda dig that.” he wiggled his eyebrows. 

“Any day now.” you were ready to stand up and leave. 

The room was eerily silent and Brendon opened his lips to speak up but Anthony grabbed his wrist and quickly shook his head. 

You could see the gears turning in Hyunjin’s head as he stared at you, and slowly but surely his cheeks became red as he closed his eyes in frustration.

“Pretty please, join my band and come on tour with us?” he said, rather quickly and you tsked. 

“Not convincing enough.” you enjoyed having the upper hand, the roles reversed as you pushed Hyunjin’s buttons. 

“What do you want me to do?! Kneel at your feet?” he whined.

“Maybe.” you shrugged. 

“Unbelievable! I’m the one doing you a favor anyways.” Hyunjin said, clearly annoyed and you were reveling in it. 

You wanted him to get the taste of his own medicine.

“Is that so?” you raised your eyebrow as he breathed hard. 

“Yes, your band is as good as dead right now, just like your career.” he said with a smug smirk, making everyone gasp. 

“Hyunjin!” Aiden scolded him and you stood up, feeling your eyes water as you lifted your hand, your palm colliding with Hyunjin’s cheek. 

The force of your slap turned his head right and he grabbed at his cheek immediately, his eyes wide, his face becoming red quickly.

“Fuck you!” you said angrily before turning around and leaving the room as tears started sliding down your cheeks. 

“Now look at what you did!” Anthony was mad and Hyunjin shrugged with a frown, realizing quickly that maybe he did cross a line.

“How could you say something like that to y/n?” Brendon asked, and Hyunjin looked at them, feeling dejected suddenly as he rubbed at his cheek. 

There was strength in your hands, that he was sure of. 

“I fucked up, okay! I didn’t mean to say that.” he shook his head. “I will make this right.” Hyunjin added, standing up. 

“Dude, I think you’re the last person y/n wants to see right now.” Aiden said. 

“But I have to apologize to her.” Hyunjin chewed on his lip, playing with his piercing as a nervous habit.

“I’ll go with you then.” Aiden nodded, standing up as well. 

“Fine.” Hyunjin sighed. 

You sat in the swinging chair on one of the many balconies of the building, letting your tears slip down your cheeks as the wind picked up, making you shiver. 

Hyunjin and Aiden found you pretty quickly and before Aiden could follow him to the balcony, Hyunjin smacked his hand on Aiden’s chest. 

“Please, just wait here.” 

“Fine, but if you provoke her again, I’m coming in.” Aiden sighed, shaking his head. 

The door of the balcony opened and in the corner of your eye you saw Hyunjin’s combat boots and his leather pants. 

“Go away.” you said quietly, sniffling and turning away from him.

Hyunjin stood frozen for a moment, holding his jacket in his hand and you took that time to quickly wipe away your tears. 

You didn’t want to look weak in front of your enemy. 

Footsteps approached and suddenly you felt a weight on your shoulders and back. 

You looked down, realizing that Hyunjin had put his jacket around you and it smelled like cigarettes mixed with cologne he always wears and something distinctly him. 

You took a deep breath and for some reason, calmness settled all over your body. 

“I’m really sorry for what I said back there. It was way out of line.”

You didn’t say anything, still refusing to look at him. 

“And I’m sorry about your band. I know that must be hard to go through. I feel bad that my drummer had to leave, I don’t know how I’d feel if-”

“Are you done?” you turned to look at him and his lips pressed together. 

“I don’t care how you feel, Hyunjin. Just like you didn’t care about hurting me moments ago.” you stood up, ready to throw his jacket away. 

“Well, I apologized!” he threw his hands up, rolling his eyes. “Though, I’m glad I have that effect on you, I didn’t know you cared so much about what I think or say.” he smirked suddenly. 

You were tempted to slap his other cheek at that moment, and Aiden must’ve sensed it so he walked out to the balcony. 

“Are we okay?” he asked, gulping. 

“Not until he apologizes properly.” you crossed your arms with a smirk, and he knew exactly what you meant.

“Ugh! This is the first and last time I get on my knees for you.” Hyunjin said annoyingly as he kneeled down and you chuckled in delight. 

“I’m sorry for being an asshole and if you could find it in your heart to forgive me, I’d be honored for you to join my band.” he batted his eyelashes at you. 

“Mm…” you pursed your lips, acting like you were contemplating it as he rolled his eyes again. 

“Fine. I accept.” you shrugged and Hyunjin stood up quickly with a smile.

“Welcome to the band, sweetheart!” he smirked, opening his arms for a hug and you quickly dodged under his arm and slithered away. 

“You’re welcome.” you smirked back, grabbing his jacket and throwing it at him.

He caught it just as you walked back into the hallway, grinning to himself as you walked away. 

“She wants me so bad.” Hyunjin said as Aiden’s eyebrows lifted comically. 

“I think she wants to kill you.” he said and Hyunjin chuckled, smacking Aiden’s shoulder and grabbing him. 

“I know what chicks like, okay?” 

“You also know that y/n isn’t one of your little groupies?” Aiden sighed.

“I know, don’t worry. She’s special.” Hyunjin smiled, hugging his jacket to his chest, getting a whiff of your perfume that stayed on it.

Aiden shook his head with a chuckle. 

This is gonna be one hell of a tour. 

-

The party was in full swing. 

That morning you had packed for the tour, your stomach swirling with nerves so much that you thought you’d throw up. 

You were actually going on tour with Lycoris Radiata, for at least six months. 

A lot can happen in that amount of time and while you were nervous to spend so much time with the infuriating and annoying asshole aka Hwang Hyunjin, you were also excited for the new experience and the places you’ll get to see.

Of course, you couldn’t leave without attending a ‘have an amazing tour’ party that was mostly exclusive only for staff and a few other people. 

You were on your second glass of beer as you sat at the bar, the cold bitter liquid not calming you down as it should. 

Hyunjin was having a jolly old time, entertaining some girls of course and if you had rolled your eyes any harder, they’d get stuck in the back of your head. 

“Don’t take that to heart.” Aiden suddenly appeared next to you.

“What?” you chuckled awkwardly, shaking away your thoughts.

“Hyunjin flirting like that. He’s a lot of talk, more than anything else.”

“Why would I care if he flirts with some random girls?” you frowned. “It’s none of my business.”

“Right.” Aiden pursed his lips. “Well, I’m gonna go find Anthony.”

“Sure.” you shrugged, your eyes flying back to Hyunjin and the girls who were salivating all over him. 

He was showing them his biceps and they were touching him like they’ve never seen a human arm in their life. 

You scoffed, shaking your head when a voice behind you startled you. 

“Now, why is a pretty lady such as yourself sitting all alone?” 

You turned around with your eyebrow lifted, coming face to face with a stranger. 

“Because it’s her choice.” you answered.

“Oh, feisty and pretty? That’s a fun combo.” the guy smirked, his arm leaning on your chair, almost hugging your waist as he got closer to you. 

Your nose scrunched up, he smelled of alcohol and you really wanted him to leave you alone. 

“I’m pretty boring, trust me.” you said.

“Oh, I don’t believe that. In fact, I think if you were to let me take you home tonight, you and I could have so much fun.” he smirked and you were pretty sure you barfed in your mouth a little.

“No, thank you.” you said sarcastically. 

He chuckled, placing his arms around you.

You were completely unaware of Hyunjin who was keeping an eye on you and the suspicious guy. 

As soon as the man placed his hands on you, Hyunjin pushed the girl he was talking to aside, his heavy combat boots taking him right to you and the disturbance in your personal space.

“I don’t really take no for an answer.” he said and your heart sank momentarily. 

“Back off man!” you tried to push him away but he wasn’t budging.

Suddenly the guy was ripped away from you with such force that it pulled you to your feet.

You grabbed at the bar to steady yourself and gasped just in time to see Hyunjin swinging his fist at the man. 

“Oh my god!” you almost screamed, your eyes wide as the guy fell to the floor instantly. 

People quickly gathered around and Anthony was trying to push them away so he could grab Hyunjin. 

“The lady said no, you fucking dirtbag!” Hyunjin said, swinging at the man again. 

“Oh my god, Hyunjin! Stop, it’s okay, please!” you panicked, never seeing him this angry or violent. 

“Hwang! Enough!” Anthony yelled, grabbing Hyunjin’s arms and lifting him up as he fought against his manager, still trying to punch the man who was now laying on the floor with his face completely bloody. 

You kept looking at Hyunjin with a shocked expression as he breathed hard, his face red and sweaty from anger, the veins on his neck and forehead popping out.

“I stopped, now let me go.” he said through his teeth as someone lifted up the unconscious guy.

“Hyunjin, if this gets out to the press it could turn into a fucking shitstorm! What the hell is wrong with you?!” Anthony yelled angrily as Hyunjin stood with his fists still clenched. 

“He made y/n uncomfortable and he deserved it.” Hyunjin answered before turning towards you. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, his eyes softening as you stared at him in disbelief.

“I-I’m fine.”

“Good. I’m done with this party.” Hyunjin said, turning on his heel and grabbing his jacket before he walked out, leaving you standing there still trying to process what the hell just happened.

-

You were half asleep when Ana drove you to the tour bus. 

You barely slept last night, tossing and turning in your bed as the images of Hyunjin punching that guy from the party kept swimming in your head. 

Never has a man defended you like that and you’ve never seen Hyunjin look so livid before. 

He was usually either smirking, laughing or being a menace, ready to always annoy you but you’ve never seen him actually angry.

It was kind of… hot, you thought before shaking it off.

You wondered why he reacted like that.

“You okay?” Ana snapped you out of your vegetative state as you sank in the passenger seat, arms crossed and hood over your head. 

“Hm? Yeah, just sleepy.” you sat up and looked around. 

The sun wasn’t even up yet. 

“You can continue sleeping on the tour bus. We’re here.” she chuckled. 

“Oh, goody.” you sighed before opening the door and walking out.

“Morning, ladies.” Anthony all but ran up to Ana, helping her with yours and her bags since she’d be joining you too. 

“Morning? It’s still night.” you checked your phone, seeing it was 4:13am. 

“Not where I come from. You see-” Anthony started.

“Okay, I’m too asleep to listen to this.” you shook your head before strolling towards the bus. 

You were about to just climb in and go straight to the nearest bed you could find but you heard some quiet music coming from behind the back of the bus. 

You approached slowly and peeked around to see Hyunjin leaning on the wall, smoking and listening to some quiet music. 

He looked up instantly, seeming like a deer caught in headlights for a short moment. 

“Remembered to put on a jacket?” he smirked. 

“Ha ha. Very funny.” you said and he shrugged, looking away and turning the music off. 

As he brought his cigarette to his lips, you noticed his knuckles were red and injured. 

“I guess I should thank you for last night.” you said quietly, swinging on your feet awkwardly as you dug your hands in your pockets. 

“It was nothing.” he shook his head quickly. 

“I wouldn’t call that nothing.” you motioned to his hand. 

“This?” he looked at his hand and chuckled. “You should see the other guy.” he winked at you, making you roll your eyes. 

“Clever.” 

“Come to think of it, it does hurt a bit. Wanna kiss it better?” Hyunjin smirked, puffing the smoke out. 

“Bite me.” you gave him the middle finger as he laughed, the sound ringing out in the quiet early hours.

“I might. If you ask nicely.” he said with that smug expression of his.

“I’m going inside.” you shivered, realizing how cold it actually was, ignoring his witty quips. 

“I’m right behind ya.” he threw his cigarette on the floor before stepping on it. 

Your heart started beating fast out of nowhere as his heavy boots stomped behind you, the sound escorting you to the entrance of the bus. 

“Oh wow.” your eyes widened as you looked around the living/kitchen area. 

“You like?” Hyunjin leaned over your shoulder and you jolted away from him, making him snicker. 

“Yeah, it’s… not what I expected. It looks more cozy than I thought it would.” you nodded.

“You should thank the interior designer.” he wiggled his eyebrows.

“And who might that be?” you asked, making your way to the bunk bed area. 

“Oh, just a guy. He takes payment in kisses.” Hyunjin bumped into you as you stopped. 

“Is that guy maybe you?” you turned around, not realizing immediately just how close Hyunjin was to you. 

“Maybe it is.” he leaned towards you with a smirk and you squealed a little, stepping away from him.

“Give it up. I’m taking the top bunk bed.” you pointed to the left side. 

“Not fair! I always take that one!” Hyunjin pouted.

“Tough luck, I called it first.” you smirked, taking off your jacket and throwing it up on the bed. 

“Or… we can both sleep up there?” Hyunjin said and you scoffed, pushing him away. 

“Like hell!” 

“Are y’all fighting this early?” Brendon came in, looking confused and disheveled. 

“No, it’s foreplay.” Hyunjin wiggled his eyebrows and you made gagging noises. 

“Here’s your bag, y/n.” Ana appeared with your luggage. 

Aiden and Anthony came in after and everyone took some time to unpack and get settled. 

“I heard we have two pretty ladies with us, so you fellas gotta behave now.” you heard an unknown voice and leaned over to see who it belonged to.

“Oh, we always behave, Stu.” Hyunjin smirked. 

“Yes, especially you.” the man, Stu, rolled his eyes. 

“This is our main driver Stu.” Aiden introduced you and Ana to him. 

“Pleasure to meet you ladies. Hopefully the road won’t be too bumpy.” he winked before turning around and leaving. 

“Where is Bradley?” Anthony piped in suddenly.

“Who’s Bradley?” you asked, at this moment you just wanted to get everything over with and catch up on some sleep.

“Our sound guy.” Brendon answered. “And lights guy. He is underpaid and overworked, basically.” he added, giving Anthony a pointed look. 

“Hey, it’s not my fault Mike quit!” he lifted his hands up. “Besides, we’re picking someone up in the next town over. He’ll be our roadie along with Bradley.” 

As they started discussing, you slipped away to the bathroom, where you could change in peace and get ready for bed. 

You leaned on the counter, staring at yourself in the mirror as you listened to the muffled voices talking. 

Were you doing the right thing? 

Accepting to join another band when your heart still hurts from the sudden falling apart between your friends and band members… 

“Y/n, I need the bathroom!” Hyunjin’s voice brought you back to reality and you stood up straight. 

“I’m not done yet!” you yelled back. “You have another bathroom!” you added annoyingly, preparing to brush your teeth. 

“Aiden hogged it. Are you naked or something? Cause I swear I don’t mind.” 

You could just hear the smirk in his voice. 

Rolling your eyes, you opened the door and Hyunjin gave you the elevator eyes and they lingered on your legs in the shorts you put on, going up to your chest and lingering again before he looked up at your face. 

He was playing with his lip ring again, his cheeks rosy. 

“What do you want?” you spat.

“Just wanna brush my teeth.” he looked at you smugly. 

You didn’t say anything, just stepped aside and continued brushing your teeth. 

You opted to leave the door opened since it felt awkward to have them closed. 

“Isn’t this fun, us brushing our teeth together? It’s kinda domestic, don’t you think?” Hyunjin said suddenly, the familiar smirk on his face. 

“Yes, thrilling.” you answered sarcastically. “You don’t have to act nice, Hyunjin. Everyone knows we hate each other so let’s just not talk too much and try to coexist peacefully for the sake of everyone else on this tour.”

Hyunjin opened his mouth to answer but you quickly turned around and left, not wanting to get into it with him when you were tired and nervous. 

He smirked to himself, shaking his head. 

The only thing stuck in his brain at that moment was the way you said his name. 

God, he loved it. 

-

You slept for a few hours only, waking up early yet again as the bus rolled to a stop at a diner. 

“Rise and shine, princess.” Hyunjin’s head popped up in front of you as he held onto your bed.

“Fuck off.” you grabbed your pillow and smacked him with it, almost making him fall down but he managed to land on his feet. 

You heard a smack and Hyunjin saying ‘ow’ quietly before Aiden said,

“Come down if you’re hungry.” 

You chuckled to yourself, waiting for them to leave so you could get ready.

Of course, as soon as you sat down in a booth, Hyunjin pushed Brendon aside and quickly slid next to you. 

“Oh my god.” you rolled your eyes. 

You were squished between him and Ana on your other side, and he was too close for comfort. 

You could feel the heat of his body and smell the scent of his shampoo and body wash mixed with cigarettes. 

You tried to ignore the feelings stirring in your gut as you ordered.

“So, how did you like sleeping on top of me?” Hyunjin smirked, tilting his head. 

“Not as much as you liked sleeping under me, weirdo.” you scoffed at him and he chuckled.

“I liked it very much, so that must mean you liked it at least a little.” he said as the food arrived and your stomach growled. 

“Whatever you say.” you brushed him off and started to dig in. 

“We’re close to our first destination.” Anthony started after a sip of coffee. “We will arrive around 4pm and have lunch, then we get ready and do the soundcheck. Questions?”

Everyone shook their heads no. 

You suddenly felt nervous tingles running up your spine, and for some reason Hyunjin felt it. 

“Don’t worry princess, you’ll do great.” he smirked, placing his hand on top of your wrist. 

You snatched your hand away and looked at him. 

“I know I will, I was just wondering if you’ll be able to keep up with me.” you smirked back at him. 

“You’ll be surprised at how well I can keep up, baby.” Hyunjin leaned into your personal space, his eyes boring into yours and you felt your cheeks burning.

“Be nice, you two.” Ana chuckled.

“What? I haven't called him an asshole yet. Emphasis on yet.” 

Hyunjin laughed next to you, his arm brushing against yours.

Oh, he is so going to enjoy this.

-

It was such a good, familiar feeling to sit behind a drum kit after being the main vocalist and guitarist of your band for so long. 

The venue was empty at this moment and the sound of the drums echoing in the space was grand. 

You closed your eyes and started playing a groove to get into the mood and Hyunjin was lured towards the stage instantly. 

He watched you in awe even though he saw you play the drums before, they never had the name of his band on the front of them. 

Hyunjin felt proud; that his band has come so far and honored that you were now a part of their story. 

He hoped you’d enjoy the tour and judging by the blissful look on your face, you were off to a good start. 

“Let’s go, Hyun.” Brendon smacked his shoulder, pulling him back to reality. 

It was time for the soundcheck, and when everyone was finally on stage, tuning their instruments, you realized that this is real. 

Excitement replaced any nerves you had and you were ready to tear the stage apart. 

“Let’s jam a little.” Aiden smiled as everyone agreed.

He started to play a melody on his bass so you followed him with the drums.

You were so focused on grooving that you didn’t notice Hyunjin winking at his two other band members.

When it was time for him to start playing his guitar, Hyunjin decided to play totally out of tune. 

You looked up at him with your brows furrowed as you tried to follow him.

He changed it up suddenly, that familiar shit eating grin spreading on his face as you followed him yet again. 

Brendon and Aiden stopped playing as they observed the two of you, battling it out with your instruments. 

Hyunjin was trying hard to get on your nerves, push your buttons but you weren’t gonna let him in. 

“Having some trouble following, princess?” he yelled over the noise. 

You looked at him pointedly as he started to play another melody that made no sense and you’ve had enough. 

Hyunjin had a way of getting under your skin and he obviously knew that. 

Your arm lifted up on its own accord and you swung one of your drumsticks right at Hyunjin, aiming for his empty head. 

His eyes widened and he managed to dodge it in a close second as the drumstick clattered on the floor. 

“Ha! Attempted murder! Y’all saw that!” he pointed at you, while looking at his friends and you started laughing. 

“Don’t worry, even if it did hit your head, it couldn’t damage it more than it already is.” you smirked as Hyunjin huffed. 

“Oh baby, keep talking. Degradation is my thing.” he motioned towards his ear with his fingers and you made a disgusted face at him. 

Of course, the asshole laughed at your expression. 

“Guys, can we actually practice?” Brendon chimed in as Aiden nodded. 

Instead of answering verbally, you started playing so everyone joined in. 

-

“Are you nervous?” Aiden asked as the venue filled up and it all became real.

“Nope, I’m ecstatic!” you answered, twirling your drumstick in your hand. 

“Trying to murder me once again?” Hyunjin appeared next to you as you almost hit him with it.

“Trust me, if I was trying to kill you, you’d already be dead.” 

“Nobody’s killing anyone, we’re already short on staff.” Anthony smirked before putting his arms around Hyunjin and Brendon’s shoulders. 

“Good luck guys! And y/n, of course. I know y’all will do great.” Anthony smiled. 

Ana came up to you to hug you. 

“Good luck, babe!” she smiled. 

“Thank you.” you gave her a bone crushing hug, she was always like a sister to you and having her here now meant a lot to you. 

As soon as you walked out on stage, the screams of all the people that came to see you perform were deafening but heartwarming. 

Hyunjin was the main character on stage, that you were convinced of as whatever he did resulted in even louder screaming. 

You didn’t mind being the backbone of the band, playing drums to you was a meditative and transcending experience and anything you were angry or upset about, you could take it out while playing. 

Performing with Lycoris Radiata was fun as fuck, even more than you hoped for; seeing Hyunjin up close made you realize just why people loved him so much. 

He was charismatic, cool and lame at the same time, ethereally beautiful and down to earth, fun but sensitive, alluring but cute, he gave his all and more. 

He was everything wrapped up in one and you wondered how that was possible. 

A particular moment struck you; when you were playing a slower song, Hyunjin sang so delicately, his back turned to you as the lights beamed down on his frame, his sweaty hair and skin making him look like he was glowing. 

Your heart skipped a beat but you ignored it. 

Near the end of the show, Hyunjin did his usual routine which consisted of making everyone’s panties wet; it was time for the sex song he always sang near the end which made you feel embarrassed and uncomfortable but something about being on stage with them got you in the right mood for it.

The part came up; and Hyunjin was on the floor, moaning and humping the air as you followed his moans with the heavy sound of your drums. 

Hyunjin smirked, throwing his head back to look at you as he continued his ministrations and you continued following him on the drums. 

Aiden and Brendon joined in as Hyunjin became louder, resulting in you hitting the drums harder as the sounds all came together in a crescendo. 

You wished that you could press your thighs together to create pressure and friction because the whole thing managed to get you wet too. 

A part of you felt ashamed but you didn’t give a flying fuck in that moment, completely letting go of everything as the four of you continued jamming together. 

Hyunjin stood up with the biggest smile on his face, winking at you as he ran a lap around the stage before literally diving into the audience. 

You gasped to yourself but continued playing the outro to the performance while Hyunjin was being groped by horny fanboys and fangirls. 

Security was there to pull him back up on stage safely and Hyunjin sang the end of the song before screaming a ‘thank you’ into the mic. 

After all four of you bowed a hundred times, you finally ran backstage where a very sweaty Hyunjin started hugging everyone, eventually coming up to you. 

“Don’t even think about it.” you said as he opened his arms. 

“Not thinking, just doing it.” he smirked and before you could run away, his arms wrapped around you and he pulled you into his body. 

“Ew!” you squirmed against him and he chuckled. 

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it.” he held you tighter and your heart leaped out of your chest. 

The bastard smelled so good even after sweating so much and it annoyed you how seemingly perfect he was. 

“What, a gross sweaty man slobbering all over me?” you scrunched up your face as you finally pushed him away.

“I wasn’t slobbering but if you’re into that-”

“Please shut up while I’m still in a good mood.” you stopped him and he laughed. 

“It’s so fun messing with you, darling.” Hyunjin ruffled your hair as you practically hissed at him, making him laugh again. 

“You guys were fucking amazing!” Anthony yelled excitedly. 

“I don’t know about you but I need some food.” Aiden piped in. 

“I’m feeling thirsty, honestly.” Brendon added.

“Are we partying or what?” Hyunjin smirked, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“Hell yeah, we are!” Anthony high-fived him. 

You ended up having the afterparty in the bus, ordering some food and acquiring some beer as you sat around in the living space. 

Of course, as soon as you walked in, you ran for the shower, with Hyunjin cascading behind you and asking if he could join you because “it’ll be done faster”. 

“Dream about it, asshole!” you yelled before closing the bathroom door. 

“Oh, I do.” Hyunjin smirked to himself, but you didn’t hear him. 

The excitement of the performance slowly washed away from your body along with Hyunjin’s scent that lingered after he hugged you, and you felt happy and cozy. 

All of you finally settled down to eat and Hyunjin claimed the spot next to you, of course, his long slender fingers stealing your fries constantly.

“Will you back off! You have your own fries.” you slapped his arm as he whined. 

“Yours are tastier.” he claimed with that familiar smirk of his.

“Are they now?” you smirked back. 

“Mhm.” he nodded pointedly.

“Let’s see then.” you grabbed your box and dumped all your fries into his box before mixing them up. “Pick one up and distinguish if it’s from your box or mine.”

Hyunjin stared at you with his lips parted before he smiled. 

“Aw, we’re sharing.” he said and continued eating as you heard some chuckles around the table. 

“For fucks sake.” you muttered, shaking your head.

The rest of the night was full of chatter and laughter, and you didn’t mind Hyunjin’s arm or leg brushing against you ever so often, or his loud laughter ringing in your ears or him constantly poking at you. 

It’s barely been one day on tour and he wasn’t as unbearable as you thought he’d be. 

Everyone was tired and you had to hit the road so it was finally peaceful, before a loud scream startled everyone.

“Oh no, I am going to die!” Hyunjin wailed dramatically.

“What’s wrong with him?” you rolled your eyes as Aiden came in. 

“He lost his teddy bear.” 

“He what?” you chuckled in disbelief.

“Hyunjin’s teddy, he always takes it with him. He’s had it since he was a baby and he’s convinced it brings him luck.” Aiden shrugged and Hyunjin ran into the living area.

“We are doomed!” he said, grabbing your arms and shaking you. 

“Calm down, it must be around here somewhere.” you sighed.

“Help me look?” Hyunjin batted his eyelashes at you as Aiden slipped away.

“Hyunjin, I’m tired, I need to get some sleep.” you whined. 

“Me too! But I can’t sleep without my teddy.” he said, you couldn’t believe he was serious. “I will crawl up to your bunk and annoy you all night if you don’t help me look.” he added, smirking.

“Fine, I’ll help you.” you rolled your eyes.

“Wow, you don’t want me in your bed at all?” he kept smirking. 

“Zip it. Let’s find your precious teddy.”

“Yes!” Hyunjin scurried after you as the two of you basically did a search and rescue mission for his favorite plush. 

Eventually, you walked into the other bathroom, finding the old teddy sitting on the counter.

“There you are.” you picked up, chuckling at the state of it. 

You couldn’t help it as you sniffed the teddy and sure enough it smelled just like its owner. 

“Found it!” you yelled and Hyunjin bursted in, panting and smiling. 

“Oh my god!” he exclaimed, grabbing the teddy and then you as he enveloped you in a hug for the second time that night. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Hyunjin held you tightly and you chuckled. 

“Alright, you’re thankful, I get it. You can let go now.” you said, patting his back. 

“I owe you.” he muttered.

“I really didn’t do anything.” 

“You did, trust me.” he smiled. 

As you laid in your bunk bed that night, you couldn’t stop thinking about Hyunjin. 

He seemed somehow different or you were just now seeing different sides of him that you didn’t see before. 

You didn’t hate him completely. 

-

Ten days on tour and things were going great. 

Every show was better than the last one, every venue bigger than the last one, every note played made Lycoris Radiata mean more and more to you. 

Tonight was no exception as you ripped the stage once again, this time Hyunjin ended up lifting Aiden and spinning him at the end which almost made the poor man throw up from excitement. 

“This was Lycoris Radiata, see you next time!” and with that you ran backstage where Hyunjin had to hug everyone, even asking for a group hug. 

You had to humor him. 

When your head finally hit the pillow, you couldn’t sleep even though you were exhausted. 

You kept replaying one particular moment from the show in your head. 

It was while Hyunjin was singing his famous sex song, before the moaning part, he came up to you and sang while looking at you. 

You kept playing and looking at him intently as he sang the lewd lyrics right into your face. 

Before he took off, Hyunjin lifted his hand, making a V shape with his fingers, doing the licking motion between them, his tongue piercing shining in the big stage light. 

Your mouth fell agape for a moment as you felt hotness spread all over your body and he smirked smugly when you made a tiny mistake in your playing. 

People didn’t notice but he did. 

And he was satisfied with it. 

You couldn’t stop thinking about it, and it had been a while since you’ve had a little ‘you time’ but it was hard to do that with so many people in the bus. 

Your eyes fluttered closed and you sighed, hearing some shuffling beneath you. 

“Y/n?” Hyunjin suddenly climbed up into your bed, startling you as you sat up and turned on the little light inside. 

“W-what are you doing?” 

“I can’t sleep. And I figured you weren’t sleeping either.” Hyunjin whispered.

“And how did you figure that?” you clutched your blanket. 

“You sighed like a hundred times.” he chuckled quietly.

“What do you want?” you rolled your eyes with a smile. 

“To hang out.” he pulled out a deck of cards out of nowhere. 

“We can’t make too much noise, we’ll wake everyone up.” you shook your head. 

“Fine then we’ll do something quiet.” Hyunjin smirked, tossing the cards aside and laying down next to you, his eyes closing.

“Turn the light off, sweetheart.” he cracked one eye open as you stared at him in disbelief. 

“You are not sleeping in my bunk. Go back downstairs.” you whispered.

“No.” he answered simply. 

“Hyunjin, I’m warning you, I will push you down.”

“Will you? You’ll wake up the whole bus.” he smirked. 

“God, you’re so annoying!” you whisper-yelled, giving up as you laid down, turning away from Hyunjin. 

“Be nice and share your blanket.” Hyunjin’s breath hit the back of your neck, making you shiver as goosebumps rose on your skin. 

“Need anything else?” you muttered as he hogged your blanket and your personal space. 

“A goodnight kiss?” Hyunjin leaned over you, peering at your face hopefully.

You gave him the side eye and he chuckled. 

“Maybe some other time, hm?” he asked. 

“Go to sleep.” you said and he laid down behind you. 

“Goodnight, darling.” Hyunjin wanted to reach out and touch your hair but he figured you’d probably break his arm. 

You didn’t answer, your heart beating so hard that you were afraid it was shaking the bed and Hyunjin could feel it. 

You quickly turned off the light and tried to calm down.

There was enough space to where he wasn’t touching you but you felt his warmth, his scent, his breath on your skin.

It was driving you crazy and making you feel calm at the same time. 

You managed to fall asleep somehow.

-

At some point, in the middle of the night, Hyunjin and you gravitated closer to each other and you ended up in his arms. 

When you slowly blinked your eyes open and realized you were staring straight at Hyunjin’s chest, you jolted away from him, making him groan quietly. 

“Where you goin’?” he mumbled into your pillow, trying to grab you.

“As far as I can from you.” you said, wiggling out of his arm that eventually caught you as he groaned again.

“Something’s poking my ass.” Hyunjin gasped when he rolled over and you laughed. 

“It’s the cards, you idiot.” rolling your eyes, you left the bunk feeling embarrassed and insane as your face heated up. 

What are you doing, sleeping in the same bed as Hyunjin?

You hate him, right?

You weren’t so sure anymore. 

Yes, he was annoying but somehow that became kind of endearing. 

He has bugged you every single day since the tour started and if he suddenly stopped, it’d feel weird. 

You sighed, shaking off your thoughts as you grabbed your phone, munching on your breakfast. 

“Morning, y/n. Tell me am I crazy or did Hyunjin sleep over in your bunk?” Ana smirked at you as she brought two coffees. 

“You are crazy. But yes, he slept in my bunk.” you said. 

“Interesting.” she smirked, lifting one eyebrow up. 

“Hey, I saw you sleeping in Anthony’s bunk multiple times. What’s that about?” you teased as you opened up your insta. 

“Well, everyone knows we have a thing for each other. You and Hyunjin though… oh yeah, you have a thing too.” 

“We don’t have a thing.” you quickly said as Ana chuckled. 

“Right. Mhm.” 

You continued scrolling, and that’s when you noticed it; the hate comments on your posts. 

‘She’s just a slut who’s after Hyunjin’

‘She’s delusional if she thinks he’d like her like she’s ugly lmao’

‘Untalented bitch’

‘Get her away from my Hyunjin’

‘She deserved her band falling apart they were shit anyways’

‘Y/n should retire from the music scene’

Your eyes started stinging with tears as you skimmed through the comment section. 

“What’s wrong?” Ana tilted her head to look at you. 

You slid your phone to her and she gasped. 

“You know these people are probably some jealous, unsuccessful suckers.” she said. 

“I need some air.” you sucked in a breath before hurriedly leaving the bus. 

“What’s with her?” Hyunjin walked in. “Is she mad at me?”

“No, look.” Ana showed him your phone. 

Hyunjin frowned instantly, running out of the bus after you. 

You stood not too far away with a cigarette in your hand as you hugged yourself with your other arm and Hyunjin’s eyes softened when he saw you shivering in the wind.

“I knew you’d forget to bring a jacket.” Hyunjin put his leather jacket around you, smoothing his hand over your back a few times. 

You exhaled a puff of smoke, not answering him as you melted into his big jacket. 

Hyunjin took out a cigarette for himself and you reached out with your lighter, lighting it up as he smirked. 

“Since when do you smoke?” he asked.

“Well, I’m feeling extra stressed right now so I needed something to take the edge off.” you shrugged. 

“Because of the comments?” 

“I don’t wanna talk about them.” 

“I’m sorry.” Hyunjin sighed. 

“It’s not your fault.” you said. 

“I feel like it is.” 

Hyunjin was standing so close to you that his arm was touching yours while both of you continued smoking.

You stood silently next to each other for a few more moments as the clouds passed you by, and slowly but surely Hyunjin closed the gap between your hands as he  touched yours briefly before he wrapped his pinky around yours. 

“Hey, you know I’m honored you’re part of my band.” his tone was serious and you couldn’t bear to look at him or you’d burst into tears. 

“I know.” you smiled as you kept looking into the distance. 

He smiled too, his eyes focused on you.

Hyunjin had your back; and that was a pinky promise.

-

Finally, you arrived to your next destination, and you’d be there for a few days which meant you had to check into a hotel. 

You were glad to have some time to yourself, you needed a real shower and a real bed and just some time to get away from everything, recharge your batteries. 

You just finished with your shower and skincare when your phone annoyed you, buzzing with texts constantly. 

When you grabbed it you realized that you forgot to change Hyunjin’s name from ‘asshole’. 

You laughed to yourself, deciding to just add a little heart at the end. 

asshole<3: y/n what are you doing

asshole<3: why aren’t you answering

asshole<3: i’m BOREEEED

asshole<3: y/n!!!! 

asshole<3: princess?

asshole<3: i’m coming to your room

“Shit!” you exclaimed just in time when Hyunjin knocked on your door.

“Go away, Hyunjin!” you yelled on the other side. 

“Never! I will wake the whole damn floor if you don’t open this door.” he banged against it. 

“Spoiled brat.” you muttered to yourself before opening the door. 

“Oh.” Hyunjin looked you up and down, your hair still wet from the shower, your little nightgown accentuating all your goodies. 

“Did you dress up for me?” he smirked as his tongue darted out to play with his lip piercing; a habit you picked up on.

“Oh yeah, I was just waiting for you to come knocking on my door.” you answered sarcastically.

“Oh come on, I brought snacks.” he lifted up a few bags. 

“You should’ve said that first.” you stepped aside, letting him in. 

“So, are you here just because you’re bored?” you scoffed as he practically skipped to your bed before throwing himself on it. 

“No, I’m here cause I know you miss me.” he smirked at you. “I spared you the walk to my room, princess.” 

“Oh yeah, I am the one who missed you.” you said pointedly. 

“I know you are.” he wiggled his eyebrows and you groaned, throwing a pillow at him but the slick bastard caught it. 

“I’m gonna change into something else.” you said, feeling a bit self-conscious. 

“Into what? After that outfit, the only logical thing is to have nothing on.”

“Wouldn’t you like that?” you snickered. 

“I would.” he smirked. 

“Changing right now!” you left for the bathroom to put on some actual pjs. 

“Don’t cross this line, Hyunjin.” you pointed as the two of you settled in your bed, ready to watch a movie and snack. 

He smiled his shit eating grin and put his finger over the line. 

“Whoops, crossed it.”

“Next time you lose a finger.” you threatened.

“Where is it gonna be misplaced?” he smirked. 

“Not where you think.”

“You don’t know what I’m thinking.” he leaned closer to you. “But I can show you.”

“No thanks. Just watch the movie.” 

It was quiet for some time until Hyunjin spoke up. 

“I’m thinking of getting another tattoo.”

“Oh?” you didn’t take your eyes off the screen. “Where?”

“My back. I wanna finish what I started with my arm and shoulder.” he answered. 

“Which is?” you looked at him and he smirked. 

“Glad you asked.” he said, taking his shirt off. 

“Woah, woah, what are you doing?” you jolted as he tossed it aside. 

“Showing you my tattoos.” he giggled. “See, it’s one big picture. I sketched the original on my paper, it’s a flower’s life story. From a little seed all the way to the dust it becomes after it wilts forever. It’s not finished yet though.” he turned and you gulped. 

“That’s a beautiful thought actually.” 

“Feel the flowers.” Hyunjin turned his shoulder to you. 

“I’m not gonna touch your tattoos.” you said. 

“Come on, you know you want to.” he taunted you. 

“No, I don’t.” you shook your head. 

“Yes, you do. You started ogling me as soon as I took my shirt off.”

“That’s because of your musc- nothing, nevermind.” you quickly caught yourself, biting your tongue as your face started burning. 

“Because of what? My muscles? You like them?” he started flexing immediately.

“That’s disgusting, stop acting like that.” you slapped his arm without thinking and you both froze. 

“Oh.” Hyunjin smirked before taking your hand in his. “Really, I want you to feel my tattoos.” 

“Fine if it gets you to shut up.” 

Your fingers gently traced the delicate art on Hyunjin’s skin, starting from his wrist up his arm as you watched goosebumps rise on his skin. 

You took your time to trace every leaf and petal as Hyunjin looked at you intently, his breaths coming out shaky as you traced over his arm, your fingers swirling with the intricate patterns. 

Your hand came up to his shoulder as you continued tracing, his skin was so smooth and he was so warm under your touch. 

“Y/n.” Hyunjin whispered, his hand covering yours as he leaned in closer to you, his eyelids hooded. 

Your eyes widened when you realized he was about to kiss you and you quickly moved away. 

“What the hell are you doing?!” you stood up and Hyunjin frowned at you. 

“What does it look like I’m doing?!” 

“Trying to get into my pants!” you scoffed. “I think you should sleep in your room.”

“B-but, it’s not like that!” Hyunjin stood up and you backed away.

“I know what it’s like. Please leave.” 

“Fine.” Hyunjin looked dejected as he grabbed his phone and shirt. “Teddy is lonely without me anyways.” he said, making a theatrical leave out of your room as he dragged his feet and kept giving you pointed looks. 

You were almost close to telling him he can stay, but as soon as he leaned in, you panicked and didn’t know how to react so you kept your mouth shut.

And you continued spiralling when he left, thinking about if he actually likes you or just wants to fuck you like he does to any girl. 

You’ve seen him with girls on his arms constantly and while you always thought what you felt was hate or disgust; in this moment you recognized it was jealousy and it didn’t feel good at all.

taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @starlost-mochi-x @saintcosette @ooshyana @frehyun @scarlet789 @skzdust @simpforleeknaur @schniti-is-in-the-house

part 2

[bangaveragewhitewine]

⋆⁺₊❅ meet the parents

single dad Eddie Munson x single mom Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: For my fourth and final fic of @littlexdeaths The Twelve Days of Promptmas, I bring you a romcom-worthy meet cute! A one-night stand in a small town is always a dangerous game.

Content: Eddie and Reader are both single parents. Modern AU. P in V and oral sex. Too many feelings for a one-night stand. Reader’s shitty ex mention. Small town dynamics. Light on Christmas, heavy on Eddie being a sexy menace. If you see any typos/messy sentences lmk!!

Just an extra little note to say the biggest THANK YOU to @littlexdeaths for putting together these wonderful Promptmas ideas, and for just being completely lovely and amazing too. I have had such a fun few weeks working on writing again, it’s been a crazy few months for me personally so this has been the best way to get back into writing and feeling creative again!! I’ve loved every minute ❤️

✨bang average festive fics✨ Eddie Munson fics ✨Dividers by @strangergraphics✨

It has been quite a few years since you woke up in a stranger’s bed. 

More used to the morning time routine of trying to get a sleepy six-year-old up and ready for the day, or the heartwarming feeling of said six-year-old making her way into your bed to cuddle on sleepy Sundays, you feel a little out of your depth this morning.

And some degree of hungover. 

But it could be worse, you supposed. The stranger’s bed was comfy and he had plenty of pillows for you to sleep on. His sheets were clean and he had not totally smothered you like a limpet all night, nor had he expected you to get up and leave while you were still catching your breath. He was a fairer bedmate than your daughter, and it was pleasant to wake up with the warm weight of his inked arm around you rather than a kid’s-size-twelve foot digging into your ribs, or her hair in your mouth. 

You sink into the comfort of it all, relishing that long-forgotten post-great-sex ache all over and the feeling of waking after a deep and dreamless sleep. You had not been this well-rested in almost seven years.

Next to you, he is asleep on his stomach with his arm across your middle. The room is dusky dark, but you can still make out the tattoos along his pale bare body and the glint of his nose ring, the spill of long dark hair piled up on his head. He is much softer now than when you met in the bar last night, no coy smirk or wolfish grin, no deep dimples on his cheeks. His whiskey eyes are still shut, and you feel warm all over when you remember how he had looked at you like you were the only woman in the bar, in the world, last night. How he had taken you home and taken you apart right here in his navy sheets. 

Carefully, trying not to wake the man next to you, you ease yourself up to check your phone.  It’s far too early to worry about picking Hazel up yet.

Not for the first time, you say a silent thanks to the universe for your neighbour for agreeing to babysit Hazel so that you could have a well-deserved Christmas night out with the friends you had made at work. You will bring her a nice hand-tied bouquet from the shop next week, just because. Without Claudia and her kindness to lean on, you know that going it alone in this small new town would so be much harder. It had been serendipitous really, moving in next door to an older and wiser woman who had been in the very same position as you when her son was not much older than Hazel. You begin piecing together the perfect bouquet for her, eucalyptus and rose and red ribbon, distracting yourself briefly from the dull ache in your head and the dry feeling on your tongue.

He brought you a glass of water before you fell asleep together. It’s cool in your throat, though it barely touches the sides of the discomfort pressing behind your brows. When the glass is mostly empty, you settle back next to him and let yourself doze for a little longer.

Eddie instinctively pulls you closer in his sleep, his warm morning breath tickling your shoulder and neck. You know it is just temporary, he is still a stranger, but let yourself enjoy the fleeting comfort while it lasts.

“Morning.”

His voice is rough and smoky, and there’s a tired smile waiting for you when you open your eyes a while later. You are struck by how pretty he is, handsome and hot but pretty with it; long dark lashes and doe-eyes, cheekbones to die for.

“Hi,” you whisper back. You feel yourself smiling back at him, feeling dreamy and oh-so-comfortable. You stretch your body out, relishing the rush of blood and oxygen to your muscles and your eyes drop closed again at that so-good feeling.

“Sleeping Beauty.” 

When Eddie kisses your hair, you miss how he closes his eyes and savours the moment; you are too busy basking in the unexpected tenderness of this one-night stand, the easiness of waking up slow with a man you met less than twelve hours ago. Even if it is just for this morning, you soak it up. 

“Mhmm. You have a comfy bed,” you whisper, looking up at him again. 

You brush your fingertips along his silver chain before tracing up to his jaw, past the tendrils of hair escaping his scrunchie. You know the feeling of that dark grown-out and nicely-maintained stubble, how it brushed and burned so good on the inside of your thighs, how it feels against your lips. 

Tentatively, bravely, you press your mouth against his and feel his smile. It’s sweet, slow. Intimate and lovely.

“Yeah? M’glad you think so,” he murmurs and steals one more kiss before pulling you against his body. 

Last night as you basked in the afterglow, Eddie asked so quietly if he could hold you and you almost teared up about it. It had been a long time since anyone had held you like that, like he is holding you again this morning.  It has been a long time since anyone has been sweet to you, shared closeness and intimacy like this. Not since the man you loved upped and left, leaving you and one-year-old Hazel with only each other to love. 

You feel the strength of his arms and the softness of his belly. There’s a stirring, hardening interest against your thigh and yet he’s not being too forward or pushy. He’s just holding you, just ‘coz. 

“I don’t… S’a while since I had a sleepover,” he admits, running his blunt nails over the small of your back. “You didn’t hog the covers, and you didn’t sneak off without saying bye…”

Eddie pulls back a little, wearing that small flirty smile that made you swoon last night. His voice is so playful, even though it is deep with morning huskiness. 

“Still here,” you whisper back, “I… It’s been a while for me too. I don’t usually… Yeah.” You shrug, you know he gets it. 

There is a glint of something in his eyes before he looks up at the ceiling. “I’m glad we did. I had fun.” 

The dimple in his cheek is beautiful and bashful, and when he looks at you again his eyes go right to your lips.

“Me too.” You touch his chain again and tug gently to bring your lips together again, putting you both out of your misery.

No one has ever kissed you like Eddie did last night, with all-consuming lust that made you feel electric. He is a blend of rough and smooth, a firm guiding hand followed by a gentle caress. You have never felt so wanted, so craved.

The way he kisses you this morning pushes aside the thoughts of all you need to do today. All you know is want, the cloying feeling of wanting to touch and be touched, craving pleasure. With his hands to guide, you straddle his lap and lean into the feeling of his fingertips wandering past the hem of the t-shirt he loaned you last night. 

Eddie looks up at you like you’re some sort of deity, his eyes and lips shining as you peel off the t-shirt and throw it behind you, leaving yourself bare in his lap. He was not put off by the stretch marks, or the Mom Body you felt so self-conscious about sometimes. Nor was he put off by the fact that you are a Mom. Eddie had simply smiled when you briefly mentioned your daughter, told you he had his own little girl without giving too much away. With that fresh layer of yourselves on show, you could understand each other just a little bit more without going full gushing-parent mode, sharing pictures of your little angels or ranting about who loved Bluey and loathed Peppa more. 

His fingers run over the stretch marks on your hips, starting up a slow grind as he kisses your neck (remembering your ‘no marks’ rule). There is a slight chill in the air to remind you that beyond this liminal bliss, it is a frosty December morning, but Eddie warms you up and distracts you without second thought. 

In the gauzy light, you see touches of fatherhood around his room, easily missed in the passion of last night - a framed drawing on his bedside table, a kiddie hair clip in his ring dish. You smile to yourself and shiver when his warm breath skates over the damp trail of kisses.

“Pretty smile,” he murmurs, needing to taste and feel it again. 

Hands wander and squeeze and you get drunk on each other all over again in the cocoon of Eddie’s bed. You blindly follow his dark treasure trail before taking him in hand, hot and diamond-hard, and savour the taste and sound of his moan. Your aching need for him is tempered and satiated by his fingers and you flush hot all over when he encourages you to scoot up and let him taste you, almost begging for it. Dazed with want, you find yourself clinging to the headboard with white knuckles and his name spilling from your lips. 

Eddie could die a happy man with your thighs bracketing his head. The taste of you makes him feel drunk as you take your pleasure from him; the needy roll of your hips is encouraged by his greedy hands in contrast to how cautious and careful you had been not to trap and tug his hair beneath your knees. 

When you are sufficiently dumb with pleasure, he lays you back against the pillows and lays out his desire for you in between messy kisses, losing his train of thought when you get your hand back on him and whisper back your need for him to fuck you now. Eddie reaches blindly for the (blessedly still-in-date) box of foil-wrapped packets in his drawer, not wanting to look away from you for even a moment.

He holds your hand as he makes love to you and you have to remind yourself not to get too caught up in how sweet Eddie is, even when he his making you feel like you have never been so full; sweetness and filthy words wound together so sweetly. It’s overwhelming and he catches you fighting tears when you feel too good. 

“Hey,” he whispers, wearing too much worry between his brows. “Do you want to stop, sweetheart? Am I hurting you?”

A guy being decent should not make your heart swell like this, and yet it does. You shake your head, tears spill over and he brushes them away with care.

“No, no. You’re not hurting me,” you promise. “I feel really good. S’just a lot.” 

Your voice wobbles and he smiles fondly against your mouth, relieved and happy to be wanted in return. 

Eddie has this magnetism, warm and cloying and a little mysterious; it makes you feel comfortable even when he’s teasing you and making you flush hot all over. 

“Yeah, baby? That’s what I’m here for,” he whispers, and kisses you slowly, sweetly. “Let me make you feel good.” You feel like your heart could beat out of your chest. He can feel it hammering against him as he starts up a slow roll of his hips that fills you completely. 

Your fingers clutch at the sheets as Eddie fucks you into his mattress. Nothing else matters in those moments, only pleasure. You fight the urge to sink your teeth into the meat and muscle of his arm, lick the drip of sweat from his neck. Instead, you taste the way he moans your name and cling to him when you come just moments apart - you first, then him.

He shares his water with you afterwards when he sees your empty glass; you are both damp with sweat and lying side by side with your heartbeats pounding in your ears, the lingering taste of each other on your tongues.

When he kisses you again, his lips are water-cooled and tender.

“Can I make you some coffee? I have to pick up my little terror in a bit…” he says, already cringing at himself. “She’s great, I swear. I promised her diner pancakes for brunch.”

Reality trickles back in, a not-unpleasant cooling off of your morning together.

“Yeah, I should probably not show up in last night’s clothes to pick my kid up. Coffee sounds good.” 

There was always an expiry date on this; the boundaries of a one-night stand were set and familiar, despite how long it has been and despite how easy and intimate this morning has been. You’re both adults, both okay with it. 

“Cool.” He smiles and hauls himself out of bed, stepping into his lost and found again boxers before he doubles back to kiss your cheek. 

When your legs are steady enough he shows you how the shower works, leaving you to it with a new toothbrush, fresh towels and a familiar squeeze to your bare hip. There’s a little part of you that wants him to join you, waste hot water and let him press you against the cold tiles. Eddie wants that too, to delay your inevitable parting of ways and return to reality.

When you look in the mirror, you see a well-fucked woman; kiss-bitten lips and that long-lost post-sex glow. 

“What the fuck,” you murmur to yourself, giggling a little when you think over the last twelve hours. 

You had not gone out looking for a hookup last night, but you made the most of the festive excuse to go for drinks with the few friends you had made since moving to Hawkins six months ago. Catching Eddie’s eye at the bar had been a happy accident. A happy accident that lead to letting him buy you a drink, and then buying him one back. Your friends had wholeheartedly encouraged it, knew him to see around town and vouched for him as a mechanic. Good with his hands, they had teased. Oh, how right they had been.

The water is hot and Eddie’s shower gel is the typical ‘for men’ scented sort of thing. You feel fresh and clean when you step back into the bedroom, finding sweats and an Iron Maiden hoodie on the bed for you, alongside your clothes from last night (which Eddie has attempted to fold neatly, instead of leaving you to pick them up from the floor).

It should not make you smile so much, but your cheeks ache pleasantly as you dress yourself, opting for last night’s jeans with Eddie’s sweater. It’s washed-soft and smells like the detergent you have at home with a hint of his cologne.

You follow the scent of coffee and the sound of music downstairs, finding more traces of parenthood on your way - a purple fairy door on the baseboard,  a washing basket full of clean kids' clothes outside a closed bedroom door, light-up Skechers and silver glitter rain boots in the hall. There is something familiar about them, but brush it aside as something Hazel probably asked for in Target.

Eddie’s unbuttoned jeans hang low on his hips as he makes coffee in mismatched mugs, his hair is down tickling against his bare shoulders and back. There are drawings on the fridge and a Christmas tree peeking out from the living room. It feels like a happy home.

His eyes light up when he sees you, looking as hungry and enamoured by you in his hoodie as he had been when you were wearing nothing at all. 

“Do you take sugar, or are you sweet enough?” he asks, wearing a softer version of that panty-dropper smile from last night. He smells clean, minty and masculine, after a quick whore’s bath in the other bathroom.

“Just one,” you say, resting your hip against the kitchen island while you watch him fix up your coffee. “You’re smooth, huh?”

“You tell me.” He slides the mug across to you before blowing on his coffee, taking a still-too-hot sip that he tries and fails to cover. For a moment, you think he might be doing a bit, alas he is simply endearingly clumsy.

You feel bad laughing, but Eddie only pouts a little bit before grinning at you. There’s a faint blush on his cheeks and he ducks his head to hide behind his hair. 

“Real smooth.” 

Exercising patience, you decide to let your coffee cool a little.

“I’ll give you a ride home if you like?” he says, hoping it’s not too forward. 

He wants to be more forward, ask for your number and ask you out. He likes how his clothes fit your body, and how you looked blissed-out in his bed. While Eddie’s trying not to come off too strong, you appreciate his sweetness and fight your own internal battle of trying not to fall for your one-night stand.

“Yeah, that would be great. Thanks, Eddie. I’m over on Cornwallis, is that out of your way?”

He smiles a little, “I don’t mind a little detour, sweetheart.”

You pointedly blow on your coffee, learning from his mistake, and savour the made-just-right coffee in a Snoopy & Woodstock mug.

Over his shoulder, you spot a photo of a familiar man on the fridge, bookended by two heads of dark curly hair. There’s a handpainted fridge magnet with ‘Fae’ written in childishly charming pink writing, and you feel your cheeks flame.

He watches your face change, looks over his shoulder to see what you’re looking at. 

“Ah. That’s my Uncle Wayne, and Fae. My daughter. she’s six.” He unpins the picture and thumbs over it gently before turning it around to you.

You know exactly who they are, but take it anyway.

When you moved your life to Hawkins, Indiana six months ago, you would never have believed that you would make friends with a grandfather in his sixties outside of Curtain Call Dance Studio while you waited for Hazel. Making friends as a single Mom in a new town was not easy, you had little time outside of work and parenting for yourself, let alone socialising (and god forbid, dating). And then you parked next to Wayne one Thursday. He was a little quiet but had warmed up more each week; now he smiled when he saw you, asked how your job at the florists was and how Hazel was doing in school.

Even though they were in different First Grade class groups at Hawkins Elementary, Hazel and Fae had become almost inseparable in their dance classes and on the playground. 

You knew Fae’s dad worked late some evenings, so Wayne helped him out. Hazel had told you that she had seen Fae’s dad once when he picked her up early to go to the dentist, and that he had hair just like her friend.

“She looks just like me, it’s crazy - poor kid. I can’t believe she’s six. She’s supposed to be three, max. Y’know what I mean?” He says, showing you more of his proud Dad side before realising that your confusion is not because you’re looking at a picture of two clones. “You okay?”

“You’re Fae’s Dad? Fae Munson?” you ask, watching his shoulders tense a little as he nods. “Eddie. Our kids know each other. I’ve met Wayne.” 

He scowls slightly beneath his bangs, confused and a little worried that he hooked up with the mother of one of the kids who was mean to Fae in school, who told the teacher when she was ‘too chatty’ or when she stood up for herself.

The words spill from you untempered, unrestrained to clear it all up. “They’re at dance class together. They’re in the same grade. Hazel and Fae are friends, Eddie…”

He visibly softens, drops his shoulders, and even though he still looks confused he melts even more when an involuntary nervous laugh bubbles from your chest. 

“Seriously? No… You’re Hazel’s mom?” His eyes blow wide. “Fuck.” 

Eddie puts his head on the counter with a thunk, and you’re left with the photo of three smiling Munsons. Fae has her Dad’s eyes and hair, his impish mischief that had endeared you to the little girl. They really are alike.

“Wayne was right,” he says, muffled beneath his hair before peeking at you, “You are cute.” 

It makes you laugh more, though your cheeks feel like the surface of the sun.

“Wayne thinks I’m cute? Huh…”

“No. Nope,” he yelps, head flying up like a wild thing. “Oh my goddd.”

You feel a little spacey as the pieces fall into place. Wayne’s nephew Ed worked at Thatcher Tyre as a mechanic, and Fae had told Hazel her Dad looked like a rockstar. She wasn’t wrong…

“He was totally going to try and set us up or somethin’.”

“He did say I’d finally get to meet you at the Winter Performance…” you say, feeling fizzy-all-over as you come to terms with the shock of it all. “Guess we bet him to it.”

“Told me you were real sweet too.” Eddie smiles, his cheeks are pinker than ever.

Part of your brain berates you for hooking up with a stranger in a small town - a small town where everyone knows everyone else. But when Eddie reaches his hand out across the island and says, “Good to finally meet you, Hazel’s Mom,” with that flirty smile and his whiskey eyes, it melts away and you’re not really that sorry at all.

You take his hand, mug-warmed and adorned with silver rings. 

“Nice to meet you at last, Fae’s Dad.”

Neither of you is too embarrassed by the revelation, though you both circle back to how fucking crazy it is at least twice. Even though you still feel gooey-warm under his attention, you don’t want anything to get in the way of your daughter’s friendship, of your new start in Hawkins, and feel selfish for wanting more than the taste you have already had of Eddie Munson. You both know your time together is drawing to an end, the bubble is about to burst, and a little part of you wishes that the illusion of being strangers could have lasted a little longer. 

With your coffee consumed and your coats and boots on, Eddie takes your hand and pulls you against his body before you step outside of the door together. 

“Hey, gorgeous. One more kiss?” he asks, head tilted to the side. 

You don’t need to think about it, and take his stubbled jaw with both hands as he holds your hips. Kissing him makes all the tension roll away once more, and you hope it is enough to help him remember you as more than just some other Mom in the First Grade Parents Group Chat (which you both have muted). You have to savour it, remember his taste and touch.

Eddie is not shy about kissing you, he slides his tongue against yours and moans ever so quietly when you push your chest against his. He is also the one to slow it down, makes it sweet and tender and you would dare say romantic, even with his hands on your ass. 

“Can I ask for one more thing?” he whispers, nudging his nose against yours. 

Right now, you would consider giving him a kidney or a blow job if he asked nicely. 

“Mhm,” you whisper, giving nothing away just yet. 

“Can I get your number? I wanna take you out properly,” he says, his thumbs play with the belt loop at the back of your jeans. “Like a date.”

Feeling hot all over, you try to play it cool and not nod so eagerly lest you headbutt him and leave him bloody-nosed. 

“Yeah. That would be nice, Eddie.” 

He watches how your teeth sink into your lip and has to kiss you once more, just because. You take his phone and add your number and name, adding a little sparkle emoji before deleting it. Then you add it again and hand it back before you can change your mind.

“Cool. And, um maybe the girls could have a play date sometime? I was gonna ask for your number anyway, so y’know. Two birds, one stone and all that. Silver linings?” Eddie does a jazz-hand-flourish thing before he shakes his head at himself and tucks his phone away. “I had a good time with you. A great time. And I know what you might be thinking, I don’t want this to get between the girls either. But I’d love to see you again.”

You are even more endeared by these glimpses of how sensible he is as well as his goofy awkwardness beneath the leather jacket and bad boy stare.

He is as gentlemanly as he had been last night, opening doors for you, though he is less handsy in the bright morning light (he does give your knee a squeeze at the stoplight). You feel safe with him as he navigates the frosty roads of Hawkins, talking about music, what concerts you had been to before becoming parents, and where to get the sparkly tutus for the Winter Performance. 

All too soon he pulls up outside your house, spotting the red door with the handmade wreath that you had described.

“Next to Henderson’s?” he asks, brow raised.

“Yep. Do you know Claudia, or is this town just too small?”

He laughs, tilts his head against the headrest. “It’s way too small. Her son, Dustin? One of my best friends.” 

You tip your head forward, smiling even as your head shakes. “I’ve heard so much about Dustin. We’re having Christmas dinner with them.”

Eddie's dimpled cheeks crease even more. “Damn. Well, I can’t wait to hear why you picked Hawkins of all places to move to. You can tell me on our date.”

Proud of how that flusters you, he presses a kiss to your hand and winks, “I’ll text you later, sweetheart.”

You want to kiss him again, but you manage to restrain yourself, remembering the nosy neighbours on Cornwallis. Instead, you let the flickering fire inside you flirt back, hoping to fluster him too.

You place your hand high on his thigh and squeeze. “You better, Eddie. Drive safe.”

You can feel him checking you out all over again, the weight and warmth of his gaze, as you make your way up the path to your door. Once your key is in the lock, you part ways with a wave and a wink, lingering just a moment more to watch his car peel away from the curb. 

Left with a fluttering feeling in your tummy and warm cheeks that ache from smiling, you take a moment for yourself in your hallway. 

It is time to go back to being Hazel’s mom. You can’t wait to hear about her sleepover with Ms. Claudia and the cats, bask in her brilliance and take every hug and smooch she will offer you (or let you take for yourself). Inspired by Eddie and Fae’s breakfast date, you think of taking your girl to the diner for dinner later on, maybe watching a Christmas movie before bed. 

In the mirror above your sideboard, hanging above the key dish and the thrifted lamp and a photo of you and Hazel in matching sunglasses, you catch sight of your smiling reflection once more, enveloped in a dreamy daze and borrowed hoodie. Your phone buzzes in your pocket and your smile becomes bigger, brighter, brimming with hope. 

What did you think? Do we want more of these two? 👀 Thank you so very very much for reading! Your comments, reblogs and likes are incredibly appreciated and adored!

Whether you're celebrating or not, I am wishing you the cosiest and most wonderful holiday season filled with peace and love and every good thing you deserve ✨

[pennyellee]

𝐀𝐍𝐔𝐁𝐈𝐒

𝐀𝐍𝐔𝐁𝐈𝐒 | 𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐉𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐅𝐈𝐀 𝐀𝐔 pairings: yandere mafia namjoon x barmaid f!reader genre: dark romance, smut, slight porn with plot, 90s word count: 19,7K beta read by @chaoticpuff17 (ily)

masterlist

summary: “You are something I can sin for” An anchor amidst the stormy seas of life — that’s what Namjoon is for you. But it wasn’t always like that. There was a time where you’ve resented Namjoon with every fibre of your being and every word that came out of his plump lips after what he had done to prove his power. Unfortunately, you will never know what life could be if Kim Namjoon was not in it.

warnings: minors dni 18+ | sexual tension, emotional distress, teasing, yandere behaviour, obsessive behaviour, manipulation, reader meets namjoon at 17, forced engagement, kidnapping, graphic violence, death, murder, blood, explicit language, misogyny, mentions of feminism, alcohol usage, mentions of religion and God, church smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, oppa-kink and so on (i'll add some if i'll forget)

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain strong language, explicit content, obsessive behaviour, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, oppressiveness, which we do not condone.

a/n: So here we are! This is the story I've been thrilled to share as it unfolds almost simultaneously with Champagne Confetti. Y/N, alias Peaches, is my baby, and I cannot wait to write more for her and Namjoon after my current project wraps up, wink wink. I have drafts for other fics set in the same universe as my current work and the new one, Anubis. Step by step, my fairies ♥

I hope you will enjoy reading this piece I've kept to myself for a long time. The best thing about writing is that I get to build this world of imagination and live in it for months before it gets to you. Sooo, I'm very nervous and excited to push Anubis out as a second fic within this universe— which now I have decided is going to be called — 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟔. Without further ado, enjoy, fairies! ♥

1996

There's a soft whisper in your bones, each time you wake up in the morning. As your eyes flutter open, the room is dimly lit, shadows dancing on the ceiling. All your demons are staring at you from above. They have been there when you went to sleep, and they are still there when you wake up. You know them all too well—regrets, doubts, fears—they've become familiar companions in the lonely hours of the night. They whisper tales of your failures, amplifying every mistake, every misstep, until they echo like thunder in your mind.

But would it be any different if your steps turned the other direction? Would the cosmos allow you to be? Possibly. You, however, will never know what life would be without blood flowing down the stream, dirty money from all the sins you've watched being committed.

You will never know what life could be if Kim Namjoon was not in it. But the thought is fleeting, for you know deep down that he is as much a part of your story as the demons that haunt you. His presence has shaped you in ways both profound and subtle, leaving an indelible mark on your soul and your body. The agonising pain within still remains and all you can think of is how did you get to this point in your story.

"Bitches come and go, Peaches—" you recalled those words like it was yesterday they were uttered.

"—but you and him, love, you be for life."

An anchor amidst the stormy seas of life — that's what Namjoon is for you. But it wasn't always like that. There was a time when you resented Namjoon and every word that came out of his plump lips.

Kim Namjoon was trouble and the whole Bronx knew so. Heck, even the whole state knew what kin he came from. You were no exception. But whatever you did, you never managed to put distance between you two.

The world seemed both infinitely vast and impossibly small when the streets of the Bronx were your stage. You were barely seventeen when you met Namjoon, a whirlwind of youthful energy and reckless abandon, there he is, so vivid in your memories.

Every time you'd help around Anubis, you could see his straying eyes. He had an aura of mischief that drew you in like a moth to a flame. You remember the way his gaze lingered on your skin, straying from the task at hand to fixate on you with a mixture of fascination.

Namjoon's reputation preceded him like a shadow cast by the noonday sun. Entirely impossible to overlook, yet you did. His name was whispered in hushed tones in the back alleys and dark corners where his influence held sway, and that was only the beginning. The magnitude he reached decades later is for another story.

You had heard the rumors—the tales of his involvement with the local gangs, the whispers of his connections to the underworld that lurked beneath the surface of the city. Certainly, you would have to be lying if you said that Anubis was completely legal. You were not that stupid. While it bore the façade of a legitimate establishment, its roots ran deep into the murky waters of the criminal underworld.

Mrs. Jung could smile as widely as she wanted and reassure you that all was fine and all was taken care of, but you couldn't ignore the whispers that circulated about Anubis. Yet she paid triple what you could get in any regular bar. Not like you could work at a regular bar at the time at your age. Survival often depended on turning a blind eye to the unsavory realities of life that you would never be able to face alone. Money was tight and you could not afford to lose such a good-paying job. Even if it took what it took.

"His eyes are hungry for you, Peaches—" said Mrs. Jung while toying with the little umbrella that was swimming in her Kamasutra drink you'd prepared just a few minutes ago. You envisioned your life in the city just like she had, Saint Laurent heels clicking loudly as you would walk down the streets of Manhattan. You admired your lady boss from her head to toes. Mrs. Jung was a symbol of pussy and power. Until she was not. The power was given to her and once she rejected to meet the expectations, it was taken from her.

"—But that's all he can do, at least for now."

She winked your way and then her attention turned to the approaching male figure. What she meant by that is loud and clear. You are underaged and Namjoon cannot make any move on you even if he wanted to. Although something tells you that this would be the least illegal thing he would’ve committed.

You’ve met Mark Tuan on occasion when he stopped by the bar. She was not Mrs Jung at the time, yet the notorious life of your lady boss, confused you even then. The way she and Mr Jung behaved around each other gave you the impression that he is her lover and not the tattooed boy that fucked the brains out of her in the office upstairs.

You felt the pain that was reflected on Jung Hoseok’s face when he asked where is she and you had to answer truthfully. The only thing you knew about Namjoon was that he and the Jungs ran way back. Their primary, and to the upper world’s eye, legal assets were the distilleries that distribute whiskey and brandy which you were serving each night till early hours of the morning.

The moment he particularly chose to visit the bar only those evenings you’ve been around was a louder hint shouted your way. As if you haven’t already figured. There was something intoxicating about the way he moved through the world and the way he moved you once your eyes locked.

The way he spoke to you, listened to you so attentively, gave advice on occasion and provided a shoulder to lean on, was all pulling you to him even more. It made you forget about all the skeletons that were in his closet.

The air crackled with anticipation as he walked through the room each night, straight to you, his gaze fixing on you with a mixture of fascination and desire. But amidst the heat of the moment, there was a shadow of doubt that lingered in the back of your mind.

Mrs. Jung's sudden disappearance, Namjoon taking over the day-to-day operations of Anubis—it all seemed too convenient, too perfect to be mere coincidence. It gave him the opportunity to watch you, enchant you. You were scared that he'd cut you off whenever you fucked up something. But he never did; rather the opposite, offering you a lifeline when you needed it most. There was a chemistry between you that defied explanation, a silent understanding that transcended words.

The way his muscular torso almost pressed against yours in the storage room took your breath away instantly. The faint scent of his cologne enveloped you as he leaned in closer, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. Surrounded by crates and boxes of expensive alcoholic beverages, the world seemed to fade away. His hand brushed against yours while he was lifting it, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins as you met his gaze. Reaching above your head to envelop his slender fingers around the throat of the bottle that you could not reach before, he slowly moved closer to hover above your lips. You trembled under his gaze on your lips that were slightly parted; you were panting at this point, reminding you of the dangers that lurked beneath the surface of your forbidden romance.

"Just a moment longer."

His voice was a low murmur, a seductive whisper that sent a thrill racing through your veins. Despite the warning bells that rang in the recesses of your mind, you couldn't deny the pull he had over you, the magnetic attraction that drew you closer with each passing moment, his presence overwhelming in the confined space of the storage room. You knew that this was wrong, and yet, as his breath ghosted over your skin, you couldn't bring yourself to pull away.

You would never deny it, but you could not accept it and return his affections the way he wished you would. This was temporary. You never planned to stay in Anubis for longer than needed. It was not where you belonged, and the criminal underbelly of the Bronx was not the life you had envisioned for yourself.

You could not understand what made him stay away from you for such a long time. But it certainly created an opening for you to re-think your next steps.

The twenty-first year of your life was dangerously close. You graduated from college that could be paid as your earnings in Anubis allowed so. Slowly, your little life in the farthest corner of Bronx would come to an end and you could move into the city. Get a job, maybe even a man and kids later. You wanted that white-picket-fence life and you knew that if you wanted to live it peacefully, staying here was not an option.

Your father was strongly against you leaving even though he never approved of the life you led in the dark of nights. He was not a saint either, his hands stained with the same sins that plagued the streets of the Bronx. There was no man in the whole New York City that would not know the name Kim Namjoon and your father was not an exception. Although, you never had the courage to mention his name and acknowledge that the man your father praises when he drinks his beer and plays poker with his drunkard old pals, is spending his evenings talking to you.

"I tell ya all, that Namjoon boy has got a head on his shoulders like no other," your father's voice boomed across the small kitchen.

"A real businessman, that one," a flicker of unease stirring in the pit of your stomach as you caught sight of the familiar glint of admiration in your step-father's eyes. Namjoon's name hung in the air between you, a silent reminder of the bond that had formed between you in the shadows of Anubis.

"I wouldn't be surprised if he ended up running this whole city someday, right, Peaches?" You forced a smile, a wave of uncertainty washing over you as you considered the implications of your father's words. Namjoon's ambitions were as vast as the city itself, his influence reaching far beyond the confines of Anubis and the criminal underworld it symbolized.

"That's Mr. Jung's place, dad," you shook your head disapprovingly but with a smile on your face. His comrades laughed and shared similar ideas as he did though.

"That would be a boy for your Peaches," one of his comrades chuckled, the sound echoing off the walls of the cramped kitchen as they continued to sing Namjoon's praises after you only silently smiled again and opted not to respond. Your father however scoffed. He praised him, yes. But would he approve of his only child being with such a man like Namjoon is?

"When are you leaving for the city, young Missy?" Old man whose name you've never known asked with a cigarette in his mouth, looking over his cards rather than your way.

"Don't even support her in that big apple bullshit." You felt a pang of disappointment at his lack of support, but you were not surprised. You glanced around the kitchen, meeting the eyes of the men gathered there, each one offering their own opinion on your future. Some nodded in agreement with your step-father, while others remained silent, their expressions unreadable.

"Don't listen to those old men, child—"

"You got dreams, girl. Don't let nobody hold you back from chasing 'em.”

Truth to be told. The job, white fence, man and kids were not your dreams. You did not really know what to dream of, being restricted in such a dark part of the world that Bronx was for many, you did not even know why you hate your home like that. And you certainly weren’t even sure what is it to have a dream. But you hoped you’ll create some once you step your foot down, somewhere else than here. It doesn’t have to be Manhattan in particular. Anywhere but here is fine.

"Peaches, love, be sweet and bring us another beer from the fridge on your way to work, would ya?"

The request snapped you out of your thoughts, bringing you back to the present moment. With a nod, you forced a smile, hiding the turmoil within as you moved to comply with his request. You were sure you'd be late to your shift at Anubis yet again, but you knew that Namjoon would turn a blind eye. He always did when it came to you.

But Namjoon was not present the moment you stepped into Anubis that night. As you made your way through the dimly lit interior of Anubis, a sense of foreboding settled over you like a heavy blanket. The usual hustle and bustle of the bar seemed muted, the air thick with tension as you approached the bar.

Mrs. Jung was still nowhere to be found and therefore, for a few months, Namjoon had replaced her. But tonight he was not here. He usually came around ten p.m. and stayed until you cleaned the very last table and closed the bar.

Taking a deep breath, you squared your shoulders and set about your duties, determined to carry on despite the growing sense of unease that lingered in the air. But as the night wore on, the feeling of dread only intensified, leaving you on edge as you awaited Namjoon's return.

You watched the sun rising through the large windows that let the light come into the bar that was still beaming with a significant number of people of various ages. Despite your efforts to focus on your tasks, your thoughts kept drifting back to him. Where could he be? Why hadn't he shown up as usual? The questions nagged at you, fueling the unease that had settled in your stomach like a lead weight.

"Peaches?!" You heard the voice of one of the local and returning customers from the other side of the dancing floor. He was a friend. Or so you thought. He raised two fingers into the air and in a second you were already pouring the brownish liquid of Jung's Whiskey into the crystal-clear glasses.

You walked over to the table he was sitting at alongside a face you'd never seen before. Thanking you for the drinks, he pointed his thumb to the man sitting next to him.

"Peaches, Jinyoung—"

"Jinyoung, Peaches."

You offered a polite smile, acknowledging the introduction as you set down the drinks on the table. The unfamiliar man, Jinyoung, returned the gesture with a nod, his expression unreadable.

"Nice to meet you, Jinyoung," you replied, your voice tinged with a hint of curiosity.

Jinyoung's gaze met yours, his eyes dark and probing as if searching for something within you. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of discomfort under his scrutiny, a feeling that only added to the unease already gnawing at your insides. Something about him set off alarm bells in your mind, a primal instinct warning you to tread carefully.

"What's a beauty like you doing tucked in Anubis?" Jinyoung asked, his voice smooth and velvety. You glanced around the dimly lit bar, suddenly aware of the eyes that seemed to linger on you from every corner, not understanding why.

"I... I work here," you said, a sudden shyness prevailing on the surface. You never really engaged with other men apart from Namjoon. For some reason, each time a man approached you, all of them quickly backed out, opting to not even look your way. For a long time, you did not know what you did wrong to chase them all away. But you got to know that night.

Jinyoung's lips quirked into a knowing smile, his gaze never leaving yours.

"I can offer you a better job, beauty," his words dripping with a seductive allure, and in that moment, you decided you needed to get back to work ASAP. He sounded like trouble you did not want on your last days here.

"I... I appreciate the offer, but I'm quite content here," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

"You sure? I could have good use of someone like you, Peaches." Your heart pounded in your chest as Jinyoung's words washed over you. He played with your name on his tongue, and you had a hint that the job he was offering you would be something much worse than working in Anubis.

"Easy, Jinyoung, that's Namjoon's girl you're talking to." Jackson finally spoke up as if he heard your little begging in your head, but this was not what you expected him to say. Were you Namjoon's girl? Years went by and he merely brushed upon your hand with his own. There was no attempt to woo you directly. So how come everyone saw it this way—you as Namjoon's girl?

"I'm not Namjoon's girl—" you said, standing your ground for once. You saw Jackson's eyes widen and Jinyoung smirk at your remark.

"I'm no one's girl—"

"Nonetheless, thanks for the offer but I have to decline." Jinyoung's smirk widened at your words, his gaze flickering with amusement as if he found your defiance entertaining. A second later you were on your way back to the bar. He was Jackson's friend, but he was crude and he did not understand he ought to fuck off. The grip you suddenly felt on your upper arm was painful enough to make you wince, yanking you back as you squinted your eyes from the pain of his touch.

"What makes you say no if you're no one's slu—" your ears picked up his words before they were silenced. Forever. His last words were cut off by a deafening gunshot, leaving you frozen in shock. The sound of it still ringing in your ears as you turned to see the source of the chaos. There, standing with a smoking gun in his hand, was Namjoon, his expression unreadable as he stared down at Jinyoung's lifeless form. One side of Jackson's face was covered in blood that was his friend's, his shock mirroring your own. And you were scared to even move an inch.

Namjoon had just killed a man in cold blood, he shot him right in front of you. Without mercy. Panic surged through you as you realized the gravity of what had just transpired. The grip he had on your upper arm weakened yet remained even after his head fell down. It was a clear shot to the side of his head.

By now, half of the bar emptied, only those underworld rats stayed unfazed. Namjoon was always so calm, so collected. But now, he looked like a completely different person. The bar had fallen into an eerie silence, broken only by the sound of your own ragged breathing. You wanted to run, but your legs failed you, unable to move as the reality of the situation sank in.

"What—" your heart hammered in your chest as you searched for something, anything, to say, but the words caught in your throat, choked by the weight of the moment. Your whole body trembled uncontrollably, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. You reached to pull your hand away from Jinyoung's lifeless grip and while you struggled to do so, the scenery before you was not helping you to calm down. The side of his head blown up, you could see parts of his brain, immediately making you empty your stomach on the floor. The fact that Namjoon hadn't said a word since he literally came out of nowhere was not contributing to the situation either.

You heard his smooth voice but it was too muffled at this point. He was giving orders to Jackson, but you did not understand a single word coming out of his mouth. Your head was spinning and the room felt like a carousel.

"Why would you—" you began to stutter, your voice barely a whisper. The question died on your lips, swallowed by the overwhelming sense of dread that hung heavy in the air. Namjoon had just committed an act of unspeakable violence, ending a man's life without a second thought. Nothing will be the same ever again. You stayed out of all the illegalness that surrounded Anubis on purpose. What eyes don't see, heart doesn't hurt. What you don't know, can't hurt you. But now you eye-witnessed such brutality and he won't let you walk away to the other end of the rainbow.

You did not expect him to hear you nor even answer your remark, but of course, Kim Namjoon was always here to listen to you.

"He touched you."

The words hit you like a physical blow, jolting you out of your stunned silence. He wasn't just stating a fact; he was issuing a warning, a chilling reminder of the consequences of crossing him. Looking him in the eye, he looked like a possessive maniac, like someone determined to protect what he perceived as his.

"He didn't—" you began, your voice faltering under the weight of Namjoon's scrutiny. Yet you stopped yourself to think whether Jinyoung's intentions were harmless or not. You remembered the way Jinyoung had leered at you, his touch lingering where it shouldn't have.

"No one can touch you, Peaches."

You felt a chill run down your spine as the weight of his words settled over you. It wasn't just a declaration; it was a promise, a vow to protect you at any cost. But beneath the surface, you sensed something darker, something primal and possessive that sent chills down your body.

You were paralyzed by the intensity of his gaze, unable to tear your eyes away from his. Your mind raced with a million thoughts and questions, but you knew better than to voice them.

That night you started to hate each and every gaze he threw your way when you were working, all the men running away after uttering a single word to you, and all the remarks about you being Namjoon's girl.

But were you ready to be Namjoon's girl? To be part of his world?

You sit up, the sheets clinging to your skin like a shroud, and confront the spectres that linger above. Even after some weeks, you still cannot shake off the tremor you've experienced that night.

"Peaches?!" You heard your father's voice. You were hidden in the confines of your small room for days now, coming out only to take a bottle of water, and even that you managed to minimize by taking the whole six-pack. You couldn't bring yourself to respond.

The look in Namjoon's eyes, the sound of the gunshot ringing in your ears, the sight of Jinyoung's lifeless body—all of it was seared into your mind, haunting you like a relentless spectre. You needed some time. But it was running out quickly.

Lost in the labyrinth of your thoughts, you remained silent, grappling with the weight of the choices that lay before you. You packed your bag last night, all the cash stuffed inside at various places, just to be turned right back on your heel by two muscular men you'd never met before. The color they wore was emerald green, and you quickly understood that those were Jung soldiers, if you could call them that.

Your father was similarly confused. His eyes were darting between you and the soldiers as he struggled to make sense of the situation. So here you are, awaiting when he will decide to collect you. What is he waiting for? You knew that your time was running out; you just didn't know exactly when it would run out.

In that moment that night, you missed the Namjoon you thought he was. All you could see was a stranger, a dangerous man whose actions had shattered your illusions and left you reeling in their wake. Yes, you knew his line of work, but you'd rather not see it with your own two eyes. You'd rather stay oblivious to who he really was just to keep the picture of the Namjoon you knew hanging a little bit longer.

"You can't hide there forever." And you certainly did not plan to, but coming out to see your father's worried face after he sees how disheveled you look could wait for another day or so. You did not know what Namjoon intended to achieve by making you a prisoner in your own home.

Every fiber of your being wanted to hate Namjoon, but you did not know whether that was even possible with how smart that man was with his mouth.

This cage of fear and uncertainty made you uneasy. The wind that forcefully closed your window awoke you from your thoughts. You lived on the second floor of an old block of apartments. You moved toward the old rusted window, cautiously pushing it open again. The cool night air rushed to meet your cheeks, and you closed your eyes to feel it.

Peering down, you assessed the drop. It wasn't too high, and the fire escape just below offered a feasible route. Why had it not occurred to you earlier?

"Peaches, please, talk to me. They've been saying that you can't go out and should wait for sajangnim Kim."

Your father's voice was strained, a mix of concern and frustration. You hesitated, torn between the urge to reassure him and the pressing need to just run for the hills before it was too late for you.

What you realized in the moment, listening to his muffled pleas, was that this might be the last time you'd see him. You couldn't come back to the Bronx ever again. Nor New York. You weren't sure exactly what the magnitude of Jung's power was that Namjoon shared, but you had the hunch that wherever you'd hide in this state, he would find you.

"Dad?" you said softly, your voice barely a whisper. You felt a lump in your throat, the weight of the impending goodbye pressing down on you. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.

"I'm here, Peaches," your father responded, his voice breaking slightly. "Please, come out. We'll figure this out." Tears welled up in your eyes as you clung to the closed door.

"It's no go, Dad."

"Please, just open the door." His voice was closer now, just outside the door.

You glanced around your room, grabbing your packed bag and slipping it over your shoulder.

"I love you, Dad. I'm sorry. Bye—"

With a final, sorrowful glance toward the door, you slipped out of the window, your feet finding purchase on the metal grating of the fire escape. You descended quickly, not daring to look back. The metal stairs creaked under your weight, each step taking you further from the life you knew. You needed to disappear.

You had no shoes on, and the white tank top clung to your skin, outlining your curves and breasts. The night air was cool against your exposed skin, a harsh contrast to the warmth of your tears. The metal of the stairs felt rough under your bare feet, but you pushed forward until you were all the way down.

Catching your breath and glancing around the dimly lit alleyway, the city felt oppressively silent, the only sound your own ragged breathing. As you took a step forward, a soft scoff resonated in your ears, leaving you standing there frozen. The man was totally invisible in the dark shadows of the alley between the buildings until he pulled out his zippo lighter to light a cigarette, illuminating his face. He exhaled a cloud of smoke, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Where are you headed, Peaches?"

The man who was casually leaning against the cold bricks wasn't unfamiliar to you. You, as a barmaid at Anubis, had the extravagant privilege to meet four out of the big seven. Kim Taehyung being one of them, standing here in front of you.

"Mr. Kim," you breathed, dread pooling in your stomach. You were on a first-name basis only with Namjoon even though they all scolded you, especially your lady boss, for being way too formal and polite, making them feel older than they actually are. Truth be told, you were putting some distance between them, but you utterly failed to do so with Namjoon, and here you are, on the run.

"I'm your family now, Peaches," Taehyung said, his voice dripping with mockery. "You should start getting used to that, so drop the mister finally."

You gritted your teeth, trying to steady your nerves as you faced Taehyung. "Taehyung," you corrected yourself, though the informal address felt wrong on your tongue.

"That's better, what a good girl you can be," he said with a smirk, taking a step closer. His presence felt suffocating, a reminder of the dangerous world you had stumbled into.

"Why are you here, Taehyung?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

"Why are you here, Peaches?" Taehyung countered, his tone filled with amusement. You bit the inside of your mouth, feeling the nerves tighten their grip on you.

"Getting some fresh air," you replied, trying to sound casual despite the knot of anxiety tightening in your chest.

Taehyung raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "Ah, yes, because nothing says 'fresh air' like sneaking out of your window in the dead of night," he quipped, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his scrutiny bearing down on you. "I just needed to clear my head," you said, hoping he would buy your flimsy excuse.

"You are not planning to do anything stupid now, Peaches, right?" You paused, considering your response carefully. Taehyung's tone, though casual, carried a hint of warning that sent a shiver down your spine. You slightly shook your head to show dismissal.

"Namjoon-hyung said you looked pretty shaken up that night." You couldn't help but tense at Taehyung's mention of Namjoon, a surge of apprehension coursing through you. You had tried to bury the memories of that night deep within you, but they continued to resurface, haunting your every thought.

"I'm fine," you replied, forcing a tight smile. "Just had a rough night, that's all."

"It looks like you're about to have another one to me." Your heart skipped a beat at Taehyung's ominous remark, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. Despite his casual demeanor, there was an underlying tension in the air that sent a shiver down your spine.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite the rising sense of unease.

"Unzipped duffle bag, dollar bills fell from it while you were going down, that looks like you were very eager to get that fresh air."

"I... I was just going for a walk," you stammered, scrambling for an excuse. Taehyung raised an eyebrow, his gaze unwavering.

"Without putting your shoes on?"

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of Taehyung's scrutiny bearing down on you. "I couldn't sleep," you admitted, the words tumbling out in a rush. "I needed some fresh air to clear my head.” You repeat yourself, but you know that you can’t fool him no matter what.

Taehyung's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he shrugged, as if dismissing the matter altogether. "Well, you certainly know how to make an exit," he remarked, his smirk never faltering.

You forced a weak smile, trying to mask the unease bubbling inside you. "Guess I've always had a flair for the dramatic," you quipped, though the words rang hollow in your ears.

Taehyung chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "That you do, Peaches. That you do," he said cryptically, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and something else you couldn't quite decipher.

"You know, Namjoon doesn't like it when his... family goes missing," he said, the emphasis on 'family' making you flinch. He took a slow drag from his cigarette, exhaling the smoke in a lazy stream.

You clenched your fists, feeling trapped. "I'm not missing," you said, your voice firmer than before. "I'm right here."

"I'd probably get a head start if I were you." Taehyung nodded slowly, as if considering your words.

Your heart pounded in your chest. "A head start?"

He took another drag, the smirk never leaving his lips. "I'm not a monster, Peaches. I'll give you a five-minute head start before I come after you."

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks. He was actually giving you a chance to run, but this time you would know someone was after you. You glanced around, calculating your options. The streets were empty, but you knew they wouldn't stay that way for long.

"Five minutes, Peaches. Starting now."

You turned and ran, your bare feet slapping against the pavement. The adrenaline coursed through your veins as you sprinted down the alley, knowing that Taehyung's smirk was etched in your mind.

You didn't know where you were going, but you knew you had to get as far away as possible. Everything blurred as you pushed yourself to run faster, the sound of your heartbeat drowning out everything else.

If you hide well, he can't find you, can he? You just have to find yourself a place to hide until morning and then you can wait till sunrise, get to the airport and fly to the first destination that will pop up.

You could feel the cold concrete scraping your feet, but the pain was a distant echo compared to the urgency of escape. You glanced over your shoulder, half-expecting to see Taehyung's figure emerging from the shadows, but for now, you were alone.

You could feel the cold concrete scraping your feet, but the pain was a distant echo compared to the urgency of escape. You glanced over your shoulder, half-expecting to see Taehyung's figure emerging from the shadows, but for now, you were alone.

The five minutes neared their end, and you knew you couldn't stay hidden forever. You had to keep moving, keep putting distance between you and Taehyung. Peering through the leaves, you scanned the area, your mind racing through possible routes and hiding spots.

"If I don’t bring you back, he'll come instead, Peaches!" Taehyung's voice echoed through, taunting you.

"You don't want to anger him, do you now?"

You needed a plan, and fast. Glancing around, you noticed a narrow passageway between two buildings, just wide enough for you to squeeze through. It might lead you to a different part of the neighborhood, giving you a chance to lose Taehyung in the labyrinth of backstreets.

You bolted towards the passageway, your bare feet slapping against the cold pavement. The alley was narrow and dark, but you pushed forward, heart pounding in your chest. Every shadow seemed to move, every sound amplified in the stillness of the night.

"They all run at first, Peaches—" Taehyung's voice echoed, closer now. "You're cute thinking you have a chance to get away."

It was way too narrow even if you put your bag down from your shoulder and dragged it as you tried to squeeze through. Every shadow seemed to move, every sound amplified in the stillness of the night, and you were scared that he would get to you soon. You knew he was out there, somewhere, searching for you.

"Although, my mind is troubled. Why, out of all of them, do you run?" There was a pause, then a chuckle.

You pushed yourself harder, feeling the rough brick walls scrape against your skin. You needed to keep moving, but you also needed a moment to think. The airport was too far, especially when they were already looking for you. You thought you were clever to disappear through the window as if you were in some cheesy cliché movie.

"Namjoon-hyung was always good to you, wasn't he?" He was. Until the moment someone else's brain was blown up by him right in front of you, simply because of his possessiveness while he never made you two exclusive. Or at least you thought so, as it showed—you were claimed by him sooner than you actually realized. You felt the panic rising in your chest, threatening to overwhelm you.

"You have no reason to run, Peaches," Taehyung's voice was taunting, echoing off the walls. "Namjoon-hyung will be so disappointed when he finds out how far you've gone." You ignored the majority of his words, focusing on finding a way out.

You closed your eyes and tried to think harder this time. The old train yard—bingo—it was on the outskirts of the city. It was abandoned, a place where few people ventured. If you could make it there, you might be able to find a boxcar to hide in until morning.

"Family doesn't abandon family, Peaches!" You heard his voice again, this time more distant.

Emerging from the passageway, you found yourself in a small courtyard. It was littered with old furniture and discarded trash; the smell was awful, but you didn't have time to dwell on that.

You listened intently, straining to hear any sign of Taehyung. The silence was deafening, broken only by the distant hum of traffic and the occasional bark of a dog.

You stuck to the shadows, moving as quietly as possible. The train yard was a long way off, but it was your best shot at staying out of immediate reach. Or so you thought.

You couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Every rustle of leaves, every distant footstep made you jump. You forced yourself to stay calm, to focus on the path ahead. Panicking would only slow you down.

The city's edge came into view, the silhouette of the train yard looming in the distance. You quickened your pace, the sight of your potential sanctuary giving you a burst of energy. You crossed the threshold into the yard, the rusted tracks and abandoned cars offering a twisted sense of comfort.

An old boxcar with the door slightly ajar beckoned to you. You slipped inside, the smell of rust and decay filling your nostrils. You closed the door behind you, plunging the space into darkness. It was cramped and musty, but it was hidden.

Sinking to the floor, you allowed yourself a moment to breathe. Your body ached, your feet throbbed, but you had made it. For now, you were safe. You could only hope that Taehyung would give up the chase, or at least lose your trail long enough for you to figure out your next move.

The sound of gravel crunching outside the boxcar woke you up and consequently made your heart jump into your throat. You held your breath, straining to listen. The footsteps were deliberate and slow, echoing through the stillness of the night.

You held your breath, trying to remain as quiet as possible. The footsteps drew closer, each crunch of gravel sending a shockwave through your body. Your mind raced with possibilities. Was it Taehyung? Or perhaps someone else stumbling upon your hiding spot?

"I seriously don't understand why you didn't throw her over your shoulder and take her back to her room." The older male shot him a glare.

"Oh come the fuck on, you're one to talk." It was Taehyung's voice, laced with frustration and annoyance.

“I did not lose her, I gave her choice and she chose wrong, she’ll be back though, in no time.” The younger one scoffed and Taehyung quirked his brows, evidently amused by his brother. 

"Well, at least that was my woman I lost and not our Hyung's." The tattooed heartthrob spat his friend's way when he heard his scoff.

"This isn't really my job. I'm only doing this because Namjoon cares about her too much to leave someone incompetent to watch her until he'll come back."

“Or you’re the only one without a woman, Tae.” You heard a little thump as if he jokingly punched him and the other voice chuckled. But first and foremost –

Namjoon's away. He did not come for you as he's away, and if away means out of the state, you have a bigger chance to make an exit than you originally thought.

Seeing him would only make things worse. Listening to his sweet melodies of words would make you doubt what Taehyung initiated—you have no reason to run. Apart from that, you do. He was deeply entrenched in the world of organized crime, his life a constant dance between power and peril. While his charming demeanor and enigmatic presence had drawn you in, you knew that his lifestyle came with its own set of risks and consequences.

He operated in the shadows, his actions dictated by a code of loyalty to his comrades and ruthlessness towards his enemies. At least that's what you heard people talk about the Jungs and their family man.

You didn't think there was room for innocence. But were you innocent? You had blood on your hands. Jinyoung's. You had been complicit in his demise. While it wasn't you who pulled the trigger, you were the motive.

As the voices grew louder, you strained to make out what they were saying. The sound of footsteps approached the boxcar, each one sending a jolt of fear through you. Were they getting closer? Were they about to open the door and drag you out into the open?

"I did not expect her to play the game that well, I have to give her that," Taehyung remarked, his voice tinged with admiration. Your heart raced as you listened to their conversation.

"Smart, just like he is."

The footsteps came to a stop just outside the boxcar, and you braced yourself for the door to swing open at any moment. Every nerve in your body was on edge, ready to flee at the first sign of danger.

But instead of the door creaking open, the voices began to fade away, the gravel crunching underfoot growing softer as they moved further away. Relief washed over you in waves, but you remained cautious, waiting until the sound of their footsteps had disappeared entirely before allowing yourself to relax.

You stayed hidden in the darkness of the boxcar, unsure of how much time had passed. Eventually, the adrenaline began to ebb, leaving you exhausted and drained. You were scared that they were waiting outside and the moment you decided to move places would be fatal for you.

The growl in your stomach was loud, echoing in the empty boxcar. You hadn't eaten in what felt like an eternity, and the gnawing hunger was beginning to take its toll. Despite the fear that they might be lying in wait, you knew you couldn't stay here forever or you'd die of hunger very soon.

Despite the fear that they might be lying in wait, you knew you couldn't stay here forever. Peeking through the small gap, you scanned the area. The night was still, and there was no sign of Taehyung or anyone else.

Slipping out of the boxcar, you kept to the shadows, moving quietly and quickly. You needed to find food, but more importantly, you needed to find a safer place to hide. If you couldn't reach the airport, you'd have to wait somewhere until you were considered off the radar. Would Namjoon lose his interest if he knew you were gone for good? You hoped so, but you also strongly doubted that. The man had had his eyes set on you for three years or so, without ever losing interest in you.

The city was vast, with many nooks and crannies where you could potentially evade capture, but you moved in the dead of the night cautiously. Slowly closing the distance between the convenience store at least ten blocks from your home, its lights were still on and you thanked the almighty, or more so the 24 hour market in front of you.

The store seemed deserted, only a shabby-looking man in his mid-thirties sitting behind the counter, half asleep. You slipped inside, quickly grabbing some food and water before leaving to pay at the counter. When the doorbell rang indicating that a customer entered the small store, you froze in place.

You ducked behind a shelf, hoping the dim lighting and cluttered aisles would conceal you. Peering through a gap between products, you saw a figure enter. You may be paranoid but you wouldn't take the risk when you had managed to not be caught for what seemed like hours. You knew better.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the sound of your heartbeat almost louder than the growling stomach from earlier. You clutched the food tightly, muscles tense, waiting for the perfect moment to quickly throw the few bucks on the counter and make your leave. You straightened a little.

It wasn't him. It was just a person that resembled him. With a rush of relief, you moved to the counter. The shabby-looking clerk barely glanced up as you placed your items down and reached into your pocket for the money. Just as you were about to pay, a hand slammed the money down on the counter in front of you. Your heart skipped a beat and your eyes widened.

You looked up slowly, dread pooling in your stomach. Taehyung stood beside you, his eyes locking onto yours with a cold, triumphant smile.

"My treat," he said smoothly, his voice dripping with mock politeness. You froze, your breath catching in your throat. The clerk, oblivious to the tension, lazily rang up the items and handed the change to Taehyung. He pocketed it without breaking eye contact with you.

You acted rather quickly after you regained your senses, but the exit was blocked by the man you saw earlier. How could you not recognize the famous heartthrob of this decade, Jeon Jungkook? Only a few people knew of his connection to the Jungs, Kims, and Parks.

"Going somewhere?" Jungkook's voice was smooth and exactly identical to the one you heard outside of the boxcar, but there was an edge to it that sent chills down your spine. He leaned casually against the doorframe, his dark eyes fixed on you with a predatory gleam.

Panic surged through you as you realized your escape route was cut off. You glanced around the store, searching for another way out, but Taehyung's hand clamped down on your arm, his grip firm and unyielding.

The clerk did not care to intervene; he knew their faces and what they represented. One girl was not worth the trouble for him.

"Let's go," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. You had no choice but to follow, your mind racing with thoughts of escape. As you stepped out of the store, the chilly night air hit you, a stark contrast to the suffocating presence of Taehyung beside you. You scanned the street for any potential way out, but Taehyung's grip on your arm tightened, steering you toward a nearby alley.

You stumbled slightly, trying to keep pace with him. The alley was dark and narrow, the perfect place for someone to disappear. Desperation surged through you, fueling your determination. You had to find a way out of this.

"You lasted more than I expected, Peaches. I have to give you that." You fought to suppress the shiver that threatened to run down your spine. Taehyung's voice, usually smooth and melodic, now held an edge of something darker, something sinister.

"But it's time to go home."

The weight of his intentions pressed down on you like a heavy stone. You did not know what home he was speaking of. Your home? Namjoon's home? You'd never been there; you couldn't know what home he meant. But something told you that wherever he'd take you, "home" would be a gilded cage, a place of confinement disguised as comfort.

You remained silent, your jaw clenched in defiance as you continued to walk, your eyes darting around the alley for any sign of escape. But every corner seemed to lead to another dead end, and the walls closed in around you like a vice.

Tears welled up in your eyes as the desperation hit your nerves. Taehyung's grip tightened slightly, as if warning you against any further attempts at escape.

"There was no need to run, Peaches." Wasn't there? You stopped to think for a minute. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart.

With a sudden burst of strength, you twisted out of Taehyung's grip and bolted. The sound of his shout echoed behind you, but you didn't look back. You darted through the maze of backstreets, your only goal to put as much distance between you and Taehyung as possible.

Reaching a dead end, you spotted a fire escape ladder. Without a second thought, you began climbing, your fingers slipping on the cold metal. You reached the rooftop, not daring to look back as you sprinted across the gravel. The cityscape stretched before you, a chaotic playground of rooftops and danger.

You leaped from one building to the next, each landing jarring your bones, but you couldn't stop. You heard Taehyung's voice calling your name, a mix of frustration and anger, but you didn't dare slow down. You reached the edge of a particularly wide gap between buildings and hesitated, just a split second too long.

A strong arm wrapped around your waist, yanking you back. You thrashed, but the grip was unyielding. Jungkook's face came into view, his expression grim. He was faster than Taehyung, and you knew your chances to outrun him were slight, but you still hoped.

"You can't run forever, Peaches," he said quietly, almost regretfully. You could hear Taehyung's leather boots stomping against the roof's concrete and his ragged breath in unison.

You struggled, kicking and clawing, but he held firm. Your heart sank as the reality of the situation set in. Just then, you heard the uncomfortable digital sound of the Motorola flip phone that was in Taehyung's hand once he stopped in front of you.

"Hmm?" Taehyung answered the phone and ended the gut-wrenching sound. You knew who was on the other side of the line. Jungkook still held you securely, his eyes never leaving yours.

There was a pause, and then he handed you the phone.

"Your Mr. Man wants to speak to you."

You hesitated for a moment, the weight of the phone heavy in your hand. With a deep breath, you brought it to your ear, steeling yourself for the inevitable confrontation with Namjoon.

"Hello?" Your voice trembled slightly, betraying the fear and uncertainty swirling within you.

"You're losing sleep, love," he said, his tone smooth but laced with a menacing undertone. You took a shaky breath.

"S-so are you." He chuckled. You bit the inside of your lip out of nerves.

"I'd sleep better if you came back to me like the good girl I know you are."

The mixture of his charm and underlying threat was intoxicating and terrifying.

"I can't, Namjoon," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I can't live like this anymore. I never wanted to live like this, and you knew that."

"Life is just about to begin for you, love—" he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Our life," he added, and your grip tightened around the phone.

"What does that even mean?" you demanded, a mix of anger and desperation coloring your words.

"It means," he began, his voice smooth yet chilling, "that whatever you fear, we'll figure this out together."

"Please, Namjoon," you begged, your voice barely a whisper. "Let me go. I can't. I just can't," you cried out.

There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and you held your breath, hoping against hope that he might relent. Your heart pounded with a mix of fear and helplessness.

"Freedom is an illusion, love," he said, almost gently. "The only freedom you'll ever have is with me. Now, come back. We'll talk this through, and I promise you, everything will be fine. Just trust me."

"Namjoon—"

"Peaches—" he quickly interrupted your attempt to plead again.

"Don't make me take harsher measures to ensure you'll come back to me." His tone grew colder, the underlying threat unmistakable.

"Wh-what are you talking about?" you asked, a tremor in your voice.

"You know what I can do. It would be a shame if the same thing happened to someone else you care about." His words hung in the air, heavy with menace.

You looked at Jungkook and Taehyung, their faces impassive yet resolute. They were ready to enforce Namjoon's will, no matter the cost.

"Why are you doing this to me?" you asked, voice quivering.

"We can talk about that once you come home," Namjoon replied, his voice smooth but unyielding.

"Namjoon, please..." you started, desperation lacing your words.

"Enough, Peaches," he cut you off sharply. "You know what's at stake. I expect you back within an hour. Hand the phone to Taehyung."

With a heavy heart, you handed the phone back to Taehyung. He took it, his eyes filled with a mix of pity, but you didn't think it was genuine. You felt Jungkook's grip loosen slightly, but not enough to let you go.

Taehyung listened to Namjoon for a moment, then nodded. "Understood," he said before hanging up. He looked at you, his expression resigned.

"Let's go," he said softly.

You don't even know how you managed to fall asleep in the car. They took your bag, draped a warm blanket over you, and sat you down on the back seat. You did not protest anymore, even though the thought of jumping out of the car went through your head briefly.

You thought of your father, your friends, and everyone you ever met and cared for when he took the ultimate move that would make you leave everything in a heartbeat. You don't want more blood on your hands.

At the same time, you could not understand why Namjoon would take such harsh measures. This wasn't the Namjoon you knew—heck, you don't even know if you ever knew that man.

The lavish room surrounding you was magnificent and screaming one name: Namjoon. Even his scent was clinging to every single piece of the room. The silk sheets clung to your skin, and you couldn't help but close your eyes again. The morning light filtered through the heavy curtains, casting a golden hue across the room.

You could hear the audible difference in your surroundings. The Bronx had a distinctive hum, a chaotic symphony of life and struggle. But this—this was different. The sounds outside the open window were unmistakably Manhattan. The distant buzz of traffic, the occasional honk of a horn, and the muffled chatter of people far below created a stark contrast to the quiet tension inside.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. Every moment spent here felt like a betrayal to the life you once knew, the people you once loved. But escape wasn't just about physical freedom—it was about breaking free from the psychological chains Namjoon had wrapped around you.

You did not know whether you weren't running for the hills now because this oddly feels like you are meant to be here or because you don't know if you should. You spent a lot of time rolling around and thinking about this. You had not come to a conclusion yet. You'd only decided that you would give him the courtesy to talk after all the years that he and his family supported you by giving you a job.

With that resolve, you climbed out of bed, feeling the weight of silk sheets slipping away. The cold floor sent a shiver up your spine, bringing you fully awake. You made your way to the bathroom, the reflection in the mirror staring back at you. You need a haircut, maybe even a new hair color.

The shower's hot water provided a temporary refuge, washing away the grime and tension of the past few days. After drying off, you dressed in clothes Namjoon had laid out for you—an unspoken reminder of his control.

You entered the kitchen, where the aroma of breakfast hung in the air. The scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the rich aroma of bacon and eggs, momentarily distracting you. You were starving.

As you moved further into the room, a sudden noise made you jump. Startled, you turned to see a figure in a white chef's uniform bustling about the kitchen. He looked up, his eyes widening in surprise as he saw you.

"Good morning, Misses Kim," he said with a polite nod. "I didn't expect you to be up so early.” The title he used sent a shiver down your spine. Misses Kim. It was as if the walls were closing in, suffocating you with the weight of an identity that wasn’t yours to claim. You overlooked yourself and your attire.

You could see your bra-less breasts and perky nipples through that white tanktop, but the chef was trained well enough to not look that way. He would most likely be beheaded by Namjoon if he would dare to look that way.

"Good morning," you replied, your voice tinged with a mix of nerves and hunger. You forced a small smile.

The chef, a middle-aged man with kind eyes, set down the spatula he was holding and wiped his hands on a towel. "My name is Seo Kang-joon, Misses Kim. I'm Sajangnim's private chef—" you figured that much. Of course that man has a private chef when he cannot boil a potato for the love of God.

"He tasked me to make you some breakfast and tell you he'll be with you shortly," he explained, gesturing to the array of food laid out on the counter.

You nodded, taking a seat at the kitchen island. Your stomach growled audibly, and despite the chaos in your mind, the food before you was an undeniable lure. You picked up a piece of toast, buttering it slowly as Kang-joon resumed his work.

"How long have you been working for Namjoon?" you asked, trying to fill the silence with something other than your own anxious thoughts.

Kang-joon glanced up from the stove, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "About three years now," he replied. "I've switched with my Appa; he was working for the Kims for two generations and now it's my turn—"

"That's a long time," you said, taking a bite of the toast, the warmth of the food providing a small comfort.

"Yes, it is," he agreed, his voice gentle. "Namjoon is a good employer, he's always treated us fairly. And he cares about you a great deal—"

"I've seen you before, didn't I?" you interrupted, suddenly recalling a moment that had slipped through your mind like sand.

"At the private party last month. You were serving food, right?"

Kang-joon nodded, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yes, that was me. I remember seeing you there, although you were quite busy too—"

You were supposed to be waitressing the tables, plural, yet you only waitressed one table that night. As per usual.

"Yep, that was my reality, I guess," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Before all of this."

Kang-joon's expression turned somber, and he stopped cooking momentarily.

"Namjoon doesn't let anyone near you, but I've seen how happy you make him. He's different around you." Of course he thinks so. You don't blame him for his inability to see through this. It's not his place.

You fell silent, pondering his words. The chaos of Namjoon's life and the dark undercurrents that surrounded him felt suffocating. "But at what cost?" you whispered, more to yourself than to him.

"He means well—" he paused his thought and got silent, and you knew that means only one thing.

"I appreciate your loyalty to him," you said, forcing a smile that felt brittle on your lips.

"Good morning, love," he said, his voice deep and commanding. His eyes darted between you and Kang-joon, who stood with a spatula in hand, caught in the moment. "I hope you're both having a pleasant chat."

Kang-joon bowed slightly, and you could see the way he was careful to keep his composure, even as the atmosphere shifted with Namjoon's presence. "I was just finishing up breakfast, Sajangnim," he said politely. "Miss Kim and I were discussing your—"

"Thank you, Kang-joon," Namjoon interrupted, his tone suggesting a mixture of gratitude and an underlying tension. "I can take it from here."

The air felt thick, heavy with unspoken words. You looked at him, wanting to scream, wanting to run, wanting to demand answers.

"Did you sleep well?" Namjoon asked, his voice softer now, as if he was trying to breach the walls that had begun to rise between you.

You nursed your coffee in the black ceramic mug while you shrugged, keeping the answer with spice in it for yourself just yet. His brow furrowed, and for a moment, you could see the cracks in his façade when you didn't answer.

"I see... silent treatment," he gulped down, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. Pouring himself a cup of coffee too, he leaned on the counter right in front of you. You took his appearance in. He got a buzz cut, creamy satin shirt tucked in leather pants. A few of the buttons were undone, giving you a perfect view of his toned chest.

"Is that really how you want to start the day?" he provoked. You set the mug down, the clink of ceramic against marble echoing in the tension-filled kitchen.

"Did you ask yourself the same question when you threatened me?" you shot back, your voice rising slightly as the memories flooded back. The anger surged within you, igniting a fire that had been smoldering since the moment you woke up in his penthouse.

Namjoon's expression shifted, the warmth in his eyes replaced by a flicker of defensiveness.

"Well, you for some reason seemed too adamant that you needed to patrol the streets of Bronx by running away from me. I know you too damn well, Peaches; I know where you were headed."

The words stung, each syllable laced with accusation and an unsettling truth. Your heart raced, the anger bubbling just below the surface.

"You know fucking shit, Namjoon—"

"Oppa," he jumped in, his voice firm, yet tinged with a note of caution.

You inhaled sharply, the familiar term slicing through the tension like a knife. It reminded you of the intimate moments you once shared. "You've lost that honorific the moment you decided to threaten me and kill that man right in front of my eyes!"

Namjoon's jaw clenched, and you could see the conflict brewing beneath his composed exterior.

"You don't understand the kind of world I'm in. We protect ours."

"Protect?" you spat, feeling the heat of betrayal wash over you.

"I'm a person who deserves to make her own choices—" He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing.

"What choices are you making? Running off into the night like it's some kind of adventure? You think that's brave? I refuse to let you get hurt because you're unhappy with my decisions."

"Oh yeah, like something would happen to me—"

"You are my woman, and people know that you are, Peaches!" he declared, his voice rising with intensity, as if the weight of his words was meant to command respect from the universe itself.

Your heart raced at his proclamation, a mix of anger and something softer twisting in your gut.

"The fuck you're talking about, Namjoon?" You snapped, your voice echoing off the sleek kitchen walls. Anger surged within you, fueled by the sheer audacity of his claim.

"Not fucking once did you say that we ought to be official one day—" you shot back, your voice dripping with disbelief.

"You act like I'm some sort of possession, something you can just claim without any conversation or commitment!" Namjoon's expression hardened, a flicker of frustration flashing in his eyes.

"You need to stop pretending like we don't have a future because you're scared of the past," he said, smashing the mug down on the counter. Namjoon's jaw tightened, and the conflict in his eyes was palpable.

"Since I was seventeen, not fucking once have you made your intentions strictly clear, Namjoon! The fuck am I doing here then?!" The words burst from your lips, raw and unfiltered, echoing in the tense space between you.

He ran a hand over his face, visibly struggling to keep his composure.

"I thought you knew. I thought you felt it too," he replied, his voice softer now, almost pleading. "I thought it was understood that it was a matter of time."

"Understood?" you scoffed, incredulity seeping into your tone. "You think that just because you've made me a part of your life, I should automatically know my place? That's not how it works!"

"I was waiting till you turned twenty-one—"

"Age of consent is eighteen in this state, Namjoon, keep that bullshit to yourself." Namjoon's expression darkened at your words, and you could see the frustration simmering beneath the surface.

"So you would rather have me taking you as wife and putting a baby into you the moment you turned eighteen, am I right?"

The air crackled with tension as Namjoon's words hung in the space between you, a provocation that sent shockwaves through your body. You felt your breath hitch, a mixture of shock and anger coursing through you.

"So that's the plan now?" you lowered your voice.

His expression softened for a moment, and you could see the conflict etched across his features. "I thought you'd want that kind of future with me, Peaches. I thought we were on the same page from day one."

Despite Namjoon's willingness to talk, the remnants of fear and frustration churned within you, threatening to spill over. You took a deep breath, trying to ground yourself. Your heart raced, the urge to flee growing stronger. He reached out, grabbing your wrist gently but firmly.

"I love you, baby."

Your heart pounded in your chest at his words, a tumultuous blend of emotions crashing over you. You stood up from the stool you were sitting at, calmly aiming for the door. You didn't know what you were doing with this lame attempt to flee.

"Hey—" he shouted, but you did not stop. You could feel Namjoon's gaze burning into your back as you moved toward the door, his loud steps right behind you making you speed up the process.

You couldn't stop. The need to escape overwhelmed you, propelling you forward. You flung the door open, the sharp sound echoing in the silence that followed.

"Peaches!" he shouted again, his voice rising with urgency and desperation. The door rattled on its hinges as he leaned against it, trying to process what had just happened.

"Damn it!" he cursed under his breath, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on him. He knew he had pushed too hard, but he couldn't help it.

You trembled under him, still facing the door while his arm was outstretched, palms on the door, blocking you from opening it again. Your breath quickened as you stood there, the cool metal of the doorknob biting into your palm. You could feel Namjoon's presence behind you.

"Let me go, Namjoon," you demanded, your voice steady but wavering just slightly. The pounding of your heart felt like a war drum, urging you to flee, to escape this suffocating moment.

"You would come back to me nonetheless." You turned around to face him, your expression a blend of defiance and vulnerability.

"What makes you think I would?" you shot back, turning slightly to glance over your shoulder at him. The intensity in his eyes made your pulse quicken, a mixture of anger and confusion swirling within you.

"Because you love me back—" He leaned down, not giving you time to argue, and seized the chance to crash his lips down on yours for the first time.

His hands grabbed onto your hips, pulling you closer, the heat from his body seeping into yours. Your heart raced, the adrenaline coursing through your veins as his tongue danced with yours in a heated embrace.

Namjoon's fingers dug into your skin, his grip firm yet tender, as if he was trying to brand you as his own. The kiss was raw, primal, and all-consuming, leaving you both breathless and wanting more.

Namjoon's eyes locked onto yours, the fire within them burning brighter than ever before. With a low growl, he pulled you close again, his lips crashing down on yours once more as the world around you continued to spin.

As the kiss broke, Namjoon pulled away, his eyes burning with intensity.

"I'm not done being angry," you said, your voice low but unwavering. You could feel the heat radiating off him, and it both thrilled and terrified you.

Namjoon's brow furrowed slightly, surprise mingling with the intensity in his gaze. "I know that," he replied, his tone shifting, becoming more serious.

"Good," you spoke right to his lips, your heart still racing from the kiss. The mix of confusion and desire swirled within you, and you struggled to keep your composure.

The cognac brown couch was very comfortable, its soft cushions inviting you to sink in and relax. A glass coffee table with sleek chrome legs stood in front of it, its surface adorned with a stack of art books, a few scattered magazines, and a vintage crystal ashtray. So Namjoon.

A large, floor-to-ceiling window occupied one side of the room, offering a breathtaking view of the city skyline. A Persian rug, with intricate patterns in deep reds and blues, covered the polished hardwood floor, adding a touch of warmth and history to the contemporary space. Again, so Namjoon.

He was crouched down by the fireplace that dominated the place, his back to you. The fire cast a warm, flickering glow across the room, its light dancing over Namjoon's broad shoulders. He started the fire because he saw you shivering. But that had nothing to do with you being cold, and deep down he knew that too. He seemed lost in thought, his fingers idly tracing patterns on the floor as he stared into the flames.

You walked over to him, your footsteps silent on the plush rug. As you approached, Namjoon turned slightly, his eyes meeting yours. You sat down next to him.

"So, how do you imagine all this working?" you asked, your voice gentle yet tinged with the underlying frustration you felt.

Namjoon sighed, rubbing his temples with his fingers. "Just like it did till now."

You frowned slightly, shaking your head.

"So I'm gonna go back to working in Anubis and you are going to keep shooting everyone who gets closer to me?!" you said, a bit harsher than you intended. Namjoon's eyes flashed with a mix of frustration.

"You are not coming back to work in Anubis, let's start with that," he said firmly, his tone brooking no argument.

"My oh my, now you want to take the source of my income too." Namjoon shifted slightly, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. There was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes.

"You're my woman, Peaches. You don't need to work for money anymore," he started, his voice steady and filled with conviction.

You raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "You can't be serious."

"Women in our clan don't work for decades, my woman is not gonna work either. At least not like that—" You narrowed your eyes, feeling a mixture of disbelief and intrigue at his declaration.

"That's not who I am, Namjoon." He leaned in closer, the firelight casting a warm glow over his chiseled features.

"Baby, I'm not asking you. I'm offering you the life you always deserved." He sighed, running a hand through his hair, frustration evident on his face.

"I've always been able to take care of myself."

“So now let me take care of you, sweetling.”

Your mind raced as you considered his words. The allure of a life without the constant threat of violence, without the stress of making ends meet, was tempting. But was it worth giving up your autonomy?

“You can still pursue your passions. I’m not taking that away from you,—” Namjoon paused, his expression softening.

“But no Anubis,” he took your hands into his.

“What do you want?” You asked quietly. He held your gaze, the firelight flickering across his face, illuminating the resolve etched in his features.

“I think I made my intentions strictly clear today.” He chuckled and exhaled slowly, his breath warm against your skin.

“I’m not just talking about safety and comfort, Peaches. I’m talking about us. About building a life together.”

You searched his eyes for any sign of insincerity, but all you found was determination.

“You want me to be your… what, exactly?” You knew, you just still didn’t want to believe it.

Namjoon leaned back slightly, still holding your hands, his thumb brushing against your skin in a soothing rhythm. “I want you to be mine—”

“Mind and body, heart and soul.” Namjoon's voice was low and earnest, each word weighted with sincerity.

You swallowed hard, trying to process the depth of what he was asking. “You mean… you want me to commit completely? To be yours in every sense?”

“And I’ll be yours.” He nodded, his eyes unwavering, filled with a mixture of affection and intensity. You felt a rush of emotions—a blend of excitement and fear.

“I can give you a life where you don’t have to look over your shoulder, where you can focus on what truly matters to you—your dreams, your passions, us.”

The promise of safety and love hung heavy in the air between you, and while the thought was tempting, a part of you still clung to your independence. It would be nice not to work long night hours in a bar full of drunk people to make ends meet. Not walking home with keys in your hand in case someone would jump you over or worse. Not living in a small old rusty apartment with your father who barely brought any income home.

The fire crackled softly, and you could feel the warmth radiating from it, mirroring the warmth blooming in your chest.

“I need time.” Namjoon’s expression shifted, his jaw tightening slightly as he processed your words. But he didn’t let go of your hands. Instead, he brought them to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles, his gaze unwavering.

“Time,” he echoed, the word almost foreign as it left his mouth. “You already had plenty of time.” The firelight cast shadows across his face, emphasizing the intensity etched into every line.

“You think time will change how you feel? Or how much I want you?” You felt a tremor run through you at the weight of his words. It was suffocating and yet strangely comforting, like a trap laced with silk, binding you softly but securely.

“No, Namjoon, I’m just—” Namjoon’s fingers brushed along your jawline, tipping your face up so that you met his gaze directly.

“I get that this must be overwhelming for you, but the time you are asking for is already up and done—”

“I didn’t know it was ticking,” you began, voice barely more than a whisper. Namjoon tilted his head, studying you, his lips quirking into a small, almost understanding smile.

“No more hidden exits, no more plans to escape. I want you here, with me, committed… without looking for a way out. And in return, I’ll take care of you and your father. That’s my promise to you.”

The warmth in his eyes almost made you believe that he meant well, that beneath the possessive intensity was a genuine desire to protect and love. Yet a lingering voice inside you warned that this love would be an all-consuming fire—one that would consume every part of you until there was nothing left to call your own.

Your mind was racing for the answer. If you say yes, you may as well forget who you were, but perhaps you will find yourself where you always wanted to be. Someone. But what if you say no?

“What if I won’t agree, Namjoon?” You asked, scared for the answer. Namjoon’s gaze darkened, the softness slipping away as his grip tightened just enough for you to feel the control he had over the situation. He leaned in, his lips grazing your ear, his voice a low murmur that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Peaches, let's not pretend that you really have a choice here." His tone was calm, as if explaining something simple, obvious, like the inevitability of night following day.

"Your father," he began slowly, each word dripping with calculated weight, "he's in no position to take care of himself, is he? Without you, what would he do? You've been carrying his burden for years, haven't you? Always working to support him, protecting him, making sure he's safe…"

His voice lowered, softening almost to a whisper, but it was filled with a quiet menace. "But if you refuse me… well, who do you think is going to keep him safe then?"

You felt your heart hammer in your chest, dread creeping into every corner of your mind as you took in his words. This was the second time he was threatening your father.

"What is wrong with you?" You said coldly, staring daggers at his pretty face.

"What's wrong with me?" he echoed, voice laced with a faint, mocking laugh. "I'm doing what needs to be done, Peaches. I'm making sure you understand the lengths I'm willing to go to keep you by my side. You think I'd just stand by and watch you slip away? Again?"

He reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch featherlight but loaded with a silent threat. "I know you love your father," he murmured, voice a dangerous purr. "And that's why I'm reminding you of what's at stake."

You felt anger and fear twist inside you. He let his hand fall, watching your reaction with unsettling calmness, as if daring you to resist. Namjoon had you cornered, and he knew it. Every ounce of control you'd thought you held slipped further from your grasp, his quiet threats carving invisible chains around you.

"Why would you put me in this position?" He sighed, his lips curving into a faint, almost pitying smile as he tilted his head, studying you.

"Because I've been loving you for years, and when I can finally have you, you are trying toplay feminist."

The words hit you like a slap, raw and stinging. You swallowed, unable to look away from the intensity in his eyes. That faint smile on his lips held no warmth; it was twisted with something darker, something possessive.

"Play feminist?" you echoed, your voice wavering with anger and disbelief. "Namjoon, wanting to make my own choices doesn't mean I'm defying you or 'playing' anything. It means I'm a person, with my own will—"

He cut you off, a low chuckle escaping his lips as he shook his head slowly, almost as if you'd amused him.

“Peaches, you still don’t understand, do you? I’m offering you a world where you’re safe, where you don’t have to fight every day to survive. You’d rather keep struggling, keep pretending you’re content living in that cramped one bedroom apartment while your father brings home beer money when you are fighting off every hardship, and here I am, ready to give you the life you deserve.”

His fingers gripped your chin firmly, forcing you to meet his gaze as he leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper but laced with conviction.

“You think you want freedom, independence. But freedom isn’t safe, Peaches. Freedom won’t love you like I do. It won’t sacrifice or protect. It won’t give you everything at the cost of its own soul.”

He released you, letting his hand fall away, his gaze darkening. “This isn’t some game, and it isn’t about principles. It’s about us. And if that means you have to surrender some of that so-called independence, then so be it. I know what’s best for you, Peaches. You just need to stop fighting and see that.”

Namjoon’s gaze shifted to something darker, more resolute, as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small velvet box. The firelight glinted off the soft pink morganite stone, antique piece that must have been in his kin for decades, its delicate beauty a stark contrast to the intensity in his eyes. He held it up, his jaw set, the unspoken command clear in the way he presented it to you.

“Peaches,” he murmured, his voice dangerously calm, “will you marry me?”

Before you could even think to pull away, he took your hand firmly, holding it in place as he slid the ring onto your finger. It was cold against your skin, the weight of it foreign and heavy.

“Say yes.” His voice was low, steady, a dangerous edge lurking beneath the calm exterior. His eyes bore into yours, unwavering, challenging you to defy him. “Say it, Peaches. Agree to be mine, completely, or I’ll make sure you lose everything you’ve been holding onto.”

You felt trapped, his hand tightening around yours as if to remind you of his control over the situation. Your heart raced, your throat dry, as the words hovered on the edge of your lips, unable to escape. But he didn’t let go, his fingers pressing into your skin with an unyielding determination.

“Say it,” he repeated, his voice firmer this time, the softness slipping into something harder, more commanding.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, a feeling of resignation sinking deep into your chest as you stared at the ring, its delicate beauty now a symbol of your surrender.

“Yes,” you whispered, the word barely escaping your lips.

A smile spread across Namjoon’s face, slow and triumphant, as he released your hand, the weight of the ring now settling fully onto your finger. He cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tear that had slipped free, his touch gentle yet possessive.

“There,” he murmured, his voice soft but laced with satisfaction.

“That’s my good girl.”

"Where's my bag?" you start sharply the moment Namjoon walks in, shrugging off the coat from his so-called 'business meeting.' You were obviously not allowed to sit in because women here do not work once they have a ring on their finger. Not like you are dying to be a part of a criminal syndicate that has its roots deeply set in this society. The air between you two is thick, a palpable tension that crackles like static before a storm.

"I looked everywhere, but I cannot seem to find it—"

Successful distilleries may be carrying the Jung name, yet other family members have their own shares of the money capital of the clan, Namjoon not being an exception. His name is presented on each brandy bottle you have had the chance to pour from. But what actually lies under the façade of crystal-clear bottles of whiskey and brandy remains unknown to the upper world.

When you met Namjoon, you didn't see a crime lord. You saw a man with ambition, with a drive that matched yours. But somewhere along the line, his ambition became chains around your wrists, tying you to a life you never chose. That's when you decided that working in Anubis would be only a "college" solution before you would leave the city.

He raises an eyebrow, his expression a mix of surprise and annoyance. "What bag?"

"You know exactly which bag," you snap, stepping closer. Namjoon's eyes darken, his jaw tightening.

"How about we start on lunch?" he suggests, trying to ignore your pleas.

"No," you insist, voice trembling with anger. "I want my bag. I want my money."

"I thought we had settled this last night, didn't we?" he says, his voice low and dangerous.

Your blood boils at his dismissive tone. "Settled? You think you can just placate me and everything will be fine? That money is mine, Namjoon. I earned it."

He steps closer, his presence intimidating but you hold your ground. "Peaches, you ought to be my wife, what's mine is yours. You don't need that money."

You stand firm, not backing down. "Need it or not, it's mine. I worked for it, Namjoon."

Namjoon's eyes narrow, a dangerous glint in them. "You think you can just walk out with that money? You think you can use it to just leave?"

"No, I—" Namjoon steps forward, his eyes cold and calculating. You feel a surge of anger, your hands clenching into fists. "I earned that money, and I deserve to use it as I see fit."

"If you want to spend money, we can go shopping—" His presence overwhelming and oppressive. His words angering you even more.

"SHOPPING?! Are you fucking serious? This isn't about buying things, Namjoon. This is about my life, my choices."

Before you can continue your rambling, he grabs your wrist and pulls you close, his grip like iron. His lips crash onto yours in a bruising, dominating kiss, meant to remind you of his power over you. You struggle, but his hold is unyielding, leaving you breathless and dizzy.

"If you're gonna drop that honorific one more time—" Namjoon's eyes blaze with fury as he keeps you close, his grip almost painful.

"I won't—" you spit out, defiance still burning in your eyes despite the fear gnawing at your insides. "If you give me my money back. I have a right to it." Namjoon laughs coldly, shaking his head.

"Let's just have lunch, Peaches, before I lose my patience completely—" he says, his voice dripping with condescension. You glare at him, refusing to back down.

"Not until you give me my money back." His expression hardens, the cold amusement vanishing.

"You really want to push this, don't you?"

"Yes," you say, your voice unwavering. "Favor for favor, isn't it the mantra y'all go by?" A smirk playing on his lips when you finish the sentence.

"Everything you need, I provide." You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart.

"I worked for that money, Namjoon. I deserve to have control over it."

He steps closer again, his eyes dancing with amusement as he looks down at you. "Control? You want control? Fine," he says, his voice dripping with condescension.

"I've deposited them into an account I opened in your name, joint with mine, naturally," he says, his words carrying that same cool, possessive edge.

"What?" you gasp, your disbelief palpable. "You what?"

"I will give you your black card," he repeats, his lips curling into a taunting smile "—once you prove not to be a flight risk, baby." Namjoon tilts his head, the smirk never fading. This, in essence, means that every single transaction will be noticed. You will withdraw the money from the card—he will know. You will attempt to transfer them to a different account? He will fucking know. The implications hitting you like a gut punch. Your blood runs cold as his words sink in.

"I'm not stupid, Peaches. I know that we gotta work on our relationship." He steps even closer, his gaze intense, pinning you in place. "Let's work on that trust first, and then you can have money at your disposal."

Your heart beats in your throat, the frustration boiling beneath the surface. Trust? The word feels like a cruel joke coming from him.Trust?

"I'm not one of your assets, Namjoon," you spit out, your voice thick with defiance. "And I won't be treated like one." His towering form casting a shadow over you, and for a moment, his eyes soften, as if he's pitying you.

"You don't have a choice, baby." His tone shifts again, dripping with that same chilling calm.

"When you prove you can stay and play nice, then maybe, just maybe, I'll let you have some freedom with your own damn money." And just like that, he's already begun dictating the terms of your life again, his grip on you tighter than ever before.

The missing duffle bag with your money was among the least of your worries when you realized what else the duffle bag possessed.

"You have my passport, Namjoon, how can I run away?" Namjoon's eyes flicker, the amusement fading slightly, but his smirk doesn't falter. He's been expecting this—he always expects everything.

Namjoon's smile is slow, deliberate, almost cruel. "I've taken what I need to keep you close." Namjoon leans in, his breath warm against your ear, his voice low and dangerous.

"But I am not underestimating your spirit."

You're nauseous, the implication of his words settling over you like a weight you can't shake off. He is holding the strings to everything, but that only made you realize that you had a hell of a lot of thinking and plotting to do to get out of here. And the most intrusive thought back in your head, where you consider staying here and embracing this finally official relationship, has to go—quickly.

"So, what now?" you ask, voice trembling despite your best effort to keep it steady. "You plan on keeping me locked up forever, Namjoon-oppa?" Namjoon only smiles, cold and confident.

"No baby. But I will keep you very close, until I can trust you." Your skin prickles where his fingers brush, but you don't pull away. You can't. The need to stay composed, to not give him the satisfaction of seeing you break, fights against the rising tide of rage and fear in your chest.

"And what do you want me to do to earn it, Namjoon?" you ask, your voice steady despite the turmoil roiling inside you. "Beg? Crawl? Pretend everything is fine when it's not?" He tilts his head, studying you like a puzzle he's piecing together in real time. The silence that follows is thick with tension. He stands so close now that you can feel the heat of his body against yours.

"So, lunch it is then?"

His tone is mockingly light, but there's a sharp edge beneath it when he tries to abandon the conversation, the kind that makes you feel trapped.

The black Mercedes hums smoothly along the Bronx streets, its sleek exterior reflecting the gray clouds above. It's going to snow any day now. Inside, the air is thick with tension, an unspoken understanding between the two passengers.

You sit in the backseat, your fingers nervously gripping the edge of your dress, the smooth fabric barely registering under your touch. Your sunglasses hide the unease in your eyes, but the tightness in your chest is something you can't disguise.

Today feels different.

Namjoon sits beside you in the backseat, his gaze fixed ahead, while his hand is warm on your thigh. You are staring at your shoes. Isn't this what you wanted? To ride in an expensive car, wearing Saint Laurent pointy-toed heels? A form-fitting dress with a high neck reveals your figure subtly, and the hungry look Namjoon gave you when you stepped out of the wardrobe did not go unnoticed. Something feels different, as if you're playing dress-up. The allure of the life Namjoon offers, it all feels strangely distant.

You eye him carefully—his black turtleneck is tailored to fit perfectly, sleek and minimalistic. Over it, a black suit jacket, structured but not overly stiff, gives him a commanding presence. His black slacks match the simplicity and power of his look, polished and clean.

The cold air bites against your skin, and you instinctively pull your coat tighter around your shoulders, trying to shield yourself from the chill that seems to creep through the thin fabric of your dress.

"Thank you for letting me see my father," you whisper, your voice barely audible, yet heavy with meaning.

"You don't have to thank me—" he says quietly, his voice low, almost intimate. His gaze doesn't soften, but there's something in the way he stands, commanding yet calm, that makes your heart race. The chill of the early morning seems to deepen, pressing in on you, yet you're acutely aware of the warmth of his presence, the heat of his body just a little too close.

"I couldn't have kept you from seeing him," Namjoon continues, his tone flat, as if he's simply stating a fact.

"But keep in mind that this is a privilege—you misbehave, you won't see him." His eyes lock with yours, not with malice, but with a cold certainty that makes your heart flutter uncomfortably in your chest. The last thing you want now is to provoke him further, to find out just how far his power reaches.

"Engaged?!" disbelief and shock etched into the features of your father when you sat down at the kitchen table after you collected some of the things you wished to take with you. You nod, your heart racing.

"Yes, Dad. It just happened. I wanted you to know first." Your father's gaze shifts to Namjoon, his face a storm of emotions—anger, disbelief, worry.

"Peaches, do you know what you're doing? This man is nearly a decade older than you," he whispers your way, his voice trembling with concern.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "I know, Dad. It's a lot to take in, but Namjoon and I—we're serious about this." You never knew how good you were at lying until today. Your father's eyes narrow, his gaze flicking between you and Namjoon.

"When did this relationship even happen? Is he holding you against your will?!" he demands, his tone a mix of frustration and disbelief. Your smile freezes for a moment, and you try your best not to give yourself away.

"No, Dad, that happens only in movies," you reply, attempting a light-hearted tone to deflect his suspicion. Maybe this is what Namjoon meant by earning trust.

Your father's gaze remains hard, but he doesn't push further. Instead, he turns to Namjoon, his voice cold and edged with protectiveness. "You better take care of her, Namjoon. If anything happens to her, I won't forgive you."

Namjoon smiles proudly at you, almost missing your father's harsh words. His confidence in you seems unshaken.

"You have my word," he replies simply, and you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, staring at the shiny peachy morganite.

You were never religious enough to step foot in a church after you were christened as a baby. Your parents were indifferent to faith, more focused on the struggles of daily life than spiritual obligations. But your now husband-to-be came from very religious kin, and he himself was a God's worshipper. Ironic enough when he managed to break the Ten Commandments before sipping his morning coffee.

His family, deeply rooted in tradition and devout faith, expected nothing less than a grand celebration steeped in religious customs. The thought of walking down an aisle, flanked by stained glass and the scent of incense, felt foreign and overwhelming.

The morning sun poured into the grand church, illuminating the ornate stained glass that depicted scenes of devotion and reverence. As you and Namjoon stepped through the heavy wooden doors, a wave of warmth enveloped you, mingling with the scent of polished wood and candle wax. It felt like stepping into another world, one where faith and family intertwined seamlessly.

You could see familiar faces sitting on the wooden benches. Kim Taehyung smirking your way when he glanced at your hand interlocked with Namjoon's. He was sitting next to Mr. Jung, whom you recognized by his mullet, and the next seat was occupied by the one and only Mrs. Jung, whom you hadn't seen for a good amount of time. There were also some faces that you did not recognize, yet they still felt familiar to you. You couldn't help but notice the way the Kims and Jungs interacted, the warmth of their bonds evident in the way they smiled, laughed, and shared stories during the prayers. Their camaraderie was infectious, and for a fleeting moment, you found yourself longing for that sense of belonging.

As the service began, the congregation settled into a peaceful quiet, the sounds of rustling papers and shifting bodies fading into the background. The priest took his place at the altar, his voice echoing through the high ceilings as he began to speak about love, commitment, and the sacred bonds of marriage. Each word resonated deeply within you, pulling at your heartstrings as you thought of your impending union. As it was explained to you, this Mass was held as the announcement of your engagement—one of many traditions they had.

Namjoon sat beside you, his presence a constant reminder of the promise you had made. You could feel his gaze on you, intense and unwavering, as if he were silently urging you to embrace this new chapter of your life. But the weight of that ring on your finger felt heavier than ever in this moment.

"Love is not merely a feeling; it's a choice," the priest's voice boomed, and you glanced at Namjoon, catching the flicker of expectation in his eyes. "It's a daily commitment to one another, a promise to uphold each other through trials and triumphs alike."

You shifted in your seat, feeling the heat of his gaze on you like a physical presence. You wondered if love really was a choice—or if, in your case, it was a bargain made under duress. Namjoon's grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly, a subtle reminder of the hold he had over your life.

This was the first time he took you out of the penthouse since the day you woke up in his bed for the first time. He simply did not trust you enough to go out in public with you just yet. Hence, his hand remained on yours in a very obsessive manner, as if you were to fly away at any moment.

The priest continued, "Marriage is a sacred bond, one that should be approached with reverence and care. It's not merely about sharing a life together but about supporting and uplifting one another, about being the anchor when the storms come." He paused, letting his words sink in.

Your mind wandered back to your father, the struggles he faced, and how Namjoon had used that vulnerability to secure your loyalty. The contrast between the priest's idealistic views on love and your reality felt stark. How could you ever find true happiness in a union that felt more like a transaction than a partnership? You were feeling heavy.

"And today," the priest announced, raising his voice slightly to draw everyone's attention, "we gather not only to worship but to celebrate the union of two souls destined to walk together."

Your breath caught in your throat, and a mix of emotions surged through you. Murmurs of congratulations rippled through the congregation, and you felt the weight of countless eyes on you, some filled with excitement, others with curiosity. Namjoon's grip on your hand tightened, his eyes gleaming with pride.

You could feel your cheeks flush as the reality of your situation sank in deeper. The ring on your finger felt like a shackle, the promises made a binding contract that left little room for your own desires.

"I—" you started, but the words felt stuck in your throat. "I need to go to the restroom, Namjoon."

His expression shifted, a flicker of concern crossing his face. "Now?" he asked, voice low enough that only you could hear, but firm enough to convey his displeasure. "We're in the middle of the service."

Namjoon hesitated, weighing your request against the backdrop of the ceremony. Finally, he released your hand but leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "Make it quick, baby."

You nodded, grateful for the small bit of freedom. Your Louboutin heels clicked against the marble floor, each step echoing like a drumbeat in the otherwise quiet sanctuary. The sound felt amplified in your ears, a reminder of the attention you were drawing as you navigated through the rows of wooden pews. You could feel the weight of curious gazes following you, some filled with anticipation, others with judgment. It was as if the congregation sensed the tension between you and Namjoon, the unspoken power dynamics playing out in real time.

You pushed open the restroom door and stepped inside. The fluorescent lights cast a stark glare, highlighting the contrast between the serenity of the service and the storm swirling within you.

Leaning against the sink, you took a moment to catch your breath. The reflection staring back at you was a mixture of uncertainty and defiance, a girl caught between two worlds.

"Why am I still here?" you whispered to your reflection, the question echoing back at you. You thought of the life you had envisioned for yourself, one filled with love, laughter, and independence, not one governed by fear and obligation.

"I fucked up." After a few deep breaths, you steadied yourself. You needed to return before he would throw a tantrum, as he loved to do whenever you were away from him for longer than ten minutes. Paranoid bastard. You glanced at your watch and noted that only a few minutes had passed. With a resigned sigh, you turned to leave, determination flooding your veins.

As you exited the restroom, you found Namjoon leaning against the wall outside, arms crossed and an expression that mixed concern and annoyance. His posture was protective, yet the underlying tension in his demeanor sent a shiver down your spine. He pushed himself from the wall only to walk towards you, making you take a few steps back into the restroom. His eyes never left yours even when he closed the door and locked it from inside, the sound echoing ominously in the small space.

The reality of your situation pressed down on you, an oppressive weight that made it hard to breathe. He moved closer, his eyes dark and intent.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay," he replied when you asked him why he wasn't upstairs, his tone both soothing and authoritative.

"You know how important this day is, right? I can't have you slipping away from me."

You swallowed hard, trying to maintain your composure. "I'm fine. I just needed a moment," you insisted, but the way he watched you made it clear he wasn't convinced.

"You can be honest, Peaches," he said, his voice dropping to a lower, more serious tone. "You're in a room full of people celebrating our engagement, and yet you're out here trying to escape."

His words struck a nerve, and you crossed your arms defensively. "I'm not trying to escape," you shot back, though the lie tasted bitter on your tongue.

"Okay," he said calmly, staring intensely into your eyes, as if he was trying to read you. A small smirk played at the corners of his lips, but the tension in the air remained thick. You did not expect him to drop the topic that quickly.

"I just needed to collect my thoughts," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Okay," he murmured again. He stepped closer, closing the distance between you even more, his body radiating warmth that both comforted and unsettled you. He was standing there, inches away from you, yet he was not taking any action.

"W-why are you so calm, what are you doing, Namjoon?" you asked, trying to grasp his demeanor which you yet again did not understand.

"Waiting—"

"Can we just go back to the ceremony?" you whispered, your voice barely audible. Namjoon's smirk widened, and he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear.

"Not yet, my love," he whispered back, his voice low and husky. Namjoon's fingers traced the curve of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. "I longed to show you just who you belong to for years."

"You're fucking stunning, Peaches," he murmured, his lips brushing against your earlobe. Namjoon's fingers trailed down your chest, stopping just above your breasts. You felt a jolt of electricity run through your body, and you knew that you were in trouble.

"Namjoon," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "We can't do this here, we're in a church." You tried to push him away.

"You are something I can sin for," he whispered back, his voice low and seductive. You tried to pull away, but Namjoon held you firm, his grip unyielding.

"Namjoon, please," you whispered, your voice trembling with desire and apprehension.

But Namjoon was relentless, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin that left you quivering with pleasure. "You're mine, Peaches," he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck.

"And I'll do whatever it takes to keep it that way."

Namjoon's lips found yours, and he kissed you with a passion that left you breathless. His tongue danced with yours, and you felt your body respond to his every touch. As you kissed, Namjoon's hand slid between your legs, and he began to caress you through your dress. You gasped softly, your body arching into his touch, trembling with the sudden pleasure.

"Namjoon," you whispered urgently, "we have to stop." Your breath hitched as he pressed you against the mirror after he lifted you onto the counter, plunging himself between your legs.

"No, we don't," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "Not until I've claimed you as mine."

The church's silence seemed to amplify the intensity of the moment, and you felt like you were teetering on the edge of a cliff. His fingers traced the contours of your body, exploring every curve and crevice.

"What if someone hears?" you breathed again, desperation lacing your voice.

His lips paused just above your collarbone, and you could feel the heat radiating from him. As if the universe was playing by his rules, the choir started to sing. He chuckled.

"You're mine, Peaches. I won't let anyone take you away from me—not today, not ever." He captured your lips again, his kiss deepening with a fervor that ignited every nerve ending in your body.

His hands were exploring the curves of your thighs, lifting the hem of your dress higher as he pressed you firmly against the cold surface of the counter.

"Namjoon," you breathed, a mix of excitement and fear knotting in your stomach. "We can't…" you continued your protests.

"But we will." His fingers danced dangerously close to your most sensitive spots, teasing you with the promise of pleasure. You felt your resolve begin to crumble under his touch.

"I've waited too long for this," he murmured, voice a velvet whisper that wrapped around you like a lover's embrace.

"Namjoon," you gasped against his lips, torn between the heady rush of desire and the urgent need to pull back. But with each kiss, each exploration of his hands, your inhibitions began to melt away, surrendering to the intoxicating pull he had over you.

"Just let go," he urged, a soft growl escaping his lips as he pressed his body into yours, making you acutely aware of the hard length that pressed against your core.

"Trust me."

A wild, reckless part of you craved this intimacy, this connection that felt both exhilarating and terrifying. Your mind took you back to all those moments you shared that made your heart flutter and belly tight when you did not know why he made you feel that way.

You hesitated for a heartbeat, the weight of your reality pressing heavily on your conscience. His fingers found their way beneath your dress, inching higher until they brushed against your most sensitive skin. You gasped, arching your back involuntarily as pleasure surged through you, igniting a fire in your belly.

"Namjoon!" you cried out, a mixture of pleasure and panic lacing your voice.

"Shh, baby," he whispered, his lips trailing down your neck as he continued his teasing exploration. With a deft motion, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, sliding them down your legs and tossing them aside as if they were nothing more than an afterthought. The cool air kissed your exposed skin, heightening your senses and making your breath hitch in your throat.

The air in the restroom felt thick with anticipation, each breath you took mingling with the scent of sandalwood and the faint musk of his skin.

“You’re breath-taking,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with desire.

His fingertips traced closer to where you needed him most, teasing you with the lightest of touches. You bit your lip, trying to suppress a moan that threatened to escape, the heat pooling deep within you almost overwhelming.

“Namjoon…” you whispered, half warning, half plea, torn between your desire for him and the reality of your surroundings.

“—and so wet for me.” He breathed against your skin, his breath sending sparks dancing along your nerves. His tongue danced with yours, a heated exploration that deepened your need for him. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you and the intoxicating chemistry that crackled between your bodies.

His fingers pressed against you, expertly coaxing soft moans from your lips as he slid one finger inside, filling you completely. You bit down on your lip to stifle your cries, but the pleasure was overwhelming, radiating out from the point of contact and pooling low in your stomach.

His eyes sparkled with a predatory intensity, relishing in your reaction. He watched you as if he were savouring a fine wine, taking his time to appreciate every detail of your response.

“Namjoon,” you gasped, your voice a fragile whisper, barely able to maintain any semblance of restraint.

“Oppa.” He growled. The way he said it—deep, possessive—made your heart race faster, each beat echoing in the stillness of the restroom. Namjoon’s fingers moved with a deliberate rhythm, curling inside you in a way that sent your mind spiralling.

“Tell me how good it feels,” he commanded, his tone a mix of sultry and demanding, eyes never leaving yours as he watched you unravel under his touch.

You hesitated for a moment, your breath coming in quick gasps as pleasure washed over you. “It feels… amazing,” you managed to whisper, the confession slipping past your lips like a sweet secret. You can regret this later.

“Good,” he murmured, the smirk on his face growing wider. “I want to hear every sound you make.”

His fingers moved faster, building the tension to a near unbearable level, each thrust sending you closer to the brink. The world around you faded completely, leaving just the two of you entwined in this stolen moment of passion, lost in the depths of one another.

“Namjoon. I can’t—” his hand smacked your ass and he deliberately slowed down.

“It’s oppa for you. Don’t make me repeat it again.”

The playful sting of his hand against your skin sent a rush of warmth coursing through you, mingling with the heat pooling low in your belly. His voice was firm, but beneath that authority was a hint of something deeper—a promise that ignited a wild excitement within you.

“Oppa,” you whispered breathlessly, the word slipping from your lips like a spell meant just for him.

He smiled, satisfied, and resumed his movements, fingers working expertly inside you again. The pressure built anew, the delightful tension sending electric shocks through your body.

“Good girl,” he praised, his breath hot against your ear. “I want to hear you, Peaches. Let me know how much you need me.”

With that, he quickened his pace, thrusting his fingers deeper, curling them just right. The overwhelming pleasure began to blur the edges of your consciousness, leaving only the sensations that centred on where he was buried within you. The heat intensified, building towards a sweet, dizzying peak, and you couldn’t help but surrender to it.

With a final flick of his fingers, he found that sweet spot inside you, driving you wild. Your body responded in kind, the sensations intertwining with your every thought. You could feel the tightening in your core, the unmistakable signal that you were teetering on the edge of bliss.

“Namjoon-oppa, I—” you gasped, words failing you as the pleasure escalated.

“Shh, just let it happen,” he murmured, his voice deep and soothing, anchoring you in the moment. His lips met yours in a heated kiss, swallowing your cries as the waves of ecstasy crashed over you.

"Oppa!" you cried against his mouth, unable to contain the raw need bursting forth from within. Your body trembled, the climax washing over you in a torrent of sensations, enveloping you completely as you surrendered to the bliss. The choir's distant hymns created an almost surreal backdrop to this heated encounter, mixing innocence with your burgeoning desire.

As the pleasure receded, leaving you breathless and dazed, Namjoon held you close, his arms encircling you like a protective cocoon. You leaned into him, heart racing and body tingling, reveling in the aftershocks of your release.

"See? That wasn't so hard, was it?" he teased, his voice low and playful, a wicked grin spreading across his lips. "To be mine."

Your blurry eyes lifted to look at him, taking him in while you were still panting from the rollercoaster of emotions he made you feel. Flickering down to his bulge covered by the fabric of his black suit pants from Ralph Lauren, your breath hitched again. Enough for him to move his hands to his belt, being absolutely ready to take you. Finally free of his belt, he pulled down his zipper. The fabric of his pants fell open, revealing the outline of his desire, bold and unmistakable.

The urgency of the moment wrapped around you like a tight embrace, making it hard to think straight. You glanced around, the restroom feeling impossibly small, every sound amplified.

"Oppa, please…" you breathed, your heart racing as you tried to pull away, but the undeniable hunger in his gaze anchored you in place. You could see the determination etched on his face, the way his jaw tightened with lust. He had a plan, and it made your pulse quicken. You were not sure what you were begging for—to stop or to continue?

If not for the soft knock on the door, he would have taken you right there, on the church's restroom counter. It jolted you both, pulling you back to the reality of your surroundings. A rush of panic surged through you, and you instinctively glanced around the cramped restroom, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Oppa," you whispered again, this time a plea laced with desire and uncertainty.

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "Just a little longer," he promised, his fingers finding their way back to your thighs, gripping you tightly as if to keep you anchored to the moment.

"Just one more time," he urged, his voice thick with need. "I need to feel you—"

"Hyung, I know you will kill me for this, but you need to come back upstairs." The voice—familiar and insistent—cut through the haze of desire that had enveloped you both.

Namjoon's expression flickered from lust to annoyance, his grip on you tightening slightly as if to remind you that this moment was still theirs, even if the world outside was intruding.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, his frustration palpable. The intensity in his gaze shifted, but it didn't fade. Instead, it turned into something more predatory, a simmering heat that promised this wasn't over.

"We'll be right there!" He shouted back to the voice behind the door. His eyes slowly returned to watch you and your disheveled form after he fingered the fuck out of you.

He leaned in, his lips capturing yours once more, and it felt like time stood still. The world around you blurred, and for that moment, it was just the two of you—lost in a whirlwind of passion that defied the reality waiting outside the door.

His forehead remained pressed on yours when he whispered to your lips. “Next time, we won’t be so rushed, I promise.” Pecking your lips, he quickly pulled his pants back up, securing his belt with a swift motion, yet the heat of the moment lingered between you both.

The calm shattered in an instant.

The heavy church door burst open with a deafening crash. Armed men in tactical gear stormed in with raised weapons, their shouts filling the air. Namjoon immediately pushed you behind him, his eyes scanning the chaotic scene with deadly focus.

The thunderous crack of gunfire echoed off the stone walls as the air filled with the acrid smell of gunpowder. Namjoon drew a gun from beneath his jacket—like several other family men in attendance—his movements swift and practiced. He returned fire, the muzzle flash illuminating his determined face in bursts of light.

Your heart pounded in your chest like a drum of terror and adrenaline. Huddled behind an overturned pew, you clutched your ears against the deafening noise, eyes wide with shock and fear. Namjoon, breathing heavily, scanned the room one final time before turning to you, his eyes softening for a moment.

"Stay down!" he shouted, his voice barely audible above the chaos.

"Jungkook, get them out!" Namjoon barked, his eyes fixed on the fight.

He reached your side, pulling you up by the arm. Jungkook's grip was firm yet reassuring.

"Come on," he urged, his voice a steady anchor amid the storm of violence. He led you through the chaos, his body shielding you from the worst of the gunfire.

Just as you neared the side door, a sharp pain exploded in your side. You stumbled, a cry of agony escaping your lips. The world seemed to slow, the sounds of battle muffled by the roaring in your ears. Looking down, you saw blood spreading across your dress, the pain intensifying with each heartbeat.

"Peaches!"

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𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐝

©pennyellee. please do not repost

tag list: @hecateslittlewitchling - @ratprincessnr1 - @originalbiscuitfiredreamer - @mggv97 - @urlovelily - @ilys00ga - @beautifulcloudfestival - @herareila @mar-lo-pap

Don't be a silent reader, let's be friends chummers! ♥

see you next time, love, p.

[coldfanbou]

Kinkcember Day 21: Costume

Your girlfriend Hayoung planned a little gift without you knowing it. Let's see what she has in store...I hope it wasn't too embarrassing for her.

Length 1.6K

Hayoung X Mreader

You wake up early in the morning, reaching for your phone immediately. You’re disappointed, though, when you see that there wasn’t a notification from Hayoung. You expected your girlfriend to have sent you something to wake up to. You change into your work clothes, a little sadder at not having had a message from her. You work throughout the day, and you’re a little upset that Hayoung hasn’t messaged you at all.

While you were working, though, Hayoung was setting herself up for your birthday. She remembered a comment you made in the past about wanting her in a sexy cat costume. She figured now would be the best time to do it. Hayoung had ordered the costume, made some minor adjustments, and set herself up in your room. The only thing she needed to do was wait. Like a cat stuck at home, she lounged around through the day, tempted to message you something but deciding against it. Occasionally, she’d look at herself in the mirror, a little embarrassed to see herself in a bikini with a tail on the end. She did get some entertainment out of it, though. More than once in the hours she waited, she’d chase it, every time stopping to think, “What in the world am I doing?” Hayoung tried to busy herself by writing you a not-to-read when you got home; she wrote it and rewrote it dozens of times before finally settling on a final version. 

She was sitting in the living room when she heard the door jiggle. Hayoung scrambled to your bedroom, tossing herself onto the bed and facing the entrance as she waited for you to appear. 

You come home seeing nothing. The disappointment you’ve felt through the day becomes greater until you see a small note stuck to the wall. “Happy Birthday! I brought you a small gift, you know how you’ve always wanted a pet? Come to your bedroom.” It was signed by Hayoung. You can’t shake the smile on your face as you realize she didn’t forget. You rush to the bedroom, overjoyed.

You walk into the bedroom and find Hayoung lying on her stomach, passing a little ball between her hands. Your eyes move up slowly, sticking to the black cat ears on her head. “Meow?” Hayoung’s meow makes you laugh; it wasn’t something you had expected to hear from her. As she hears you laugh, Hayoung buries her head into the mattress, covering her head out of embarrassment. “Don’t laugh!” She shouts into the bed, muffling her words. She covers her head with her hands, and you now notice that she wears little gloves that mimic paws. “I did this for you!” She yells, tossing a pillow at you. You dodge the pillow and get closer to Hayoung, finally getting a closer look at her. She was wearing just a bra and panties, her panties having a tail attached to the end.

Hayoung pokes her head up, her cheeks turning a bright red as she blushes. Her hands cover her face the next second as another wave of embarrassment hits her. “Say something!” 

Your voice catches in your throat for a second. “You look beautiful,” you manage to say. Hayoung’s cheeks turn a brighter shade of red. She feels embarrassed to be wearing something so silly, silently cursing herself for thinking the cat bikini would be the best option. 

Hayoung quickly gets out of bed and runs over to hug you, her head resting against your chest as she tries to hide herself. “Happy birthday,” she grumbles, but you’re barely able to hear her.

“What did you say? Can you repeat that?” 

Hayoung kneels before you, rubbing her face against your legs while looking at you with loving eyes. She places her hands on your thighs, moving them up until she reaches the waistband. “Happy Birthday,” she says softly as she pulls on your pants. Hayoung smiles at you and meows again as she rubs her face against your bulge. As much as she didn’t want to play the part, she was trying for your sake. The meow makes you laugh again, though, and Hayoung stops. “If you laugh again, I will stop.”  She says breaking character. You stare at each other, understanding where you stand in this odd situation before Hayoung continues. 

It didn’t matter that she just told you not to laugh; Hayoung couldn’t handle it anymore. “I can’t do this anymore,” Hayoung says, tossing off the cat ears, having had enough of making a fool out of herself. She grips your cock tightly, moving her hand along your shaft and spitting on it. She moves her hand quickly, her attitude getting more serious as she feels your pulse rising. The contrast between her cute face and her sultry smile only added to your arousal. You moaned Hayoung’s name. She rises to her feet, continuing to stroke your cock as she stares into your eyes. “Tonight, I’m taking control, okay, baby?” It was a rhetorical question. Hayoung pulled you toward the bed and pushed you onto your back. Hayoung leans over your cock, sticking her tongue out and drooling over your cock before taking one long lick. You moan Hayoung’s name, making her smirk. “Don’t wear yourself out yet.” Hayoung presses her lips against your cock, moving them toward the head before swallowing your cock. She runs her tongue along the underside of your cock; you watch her cheeks hollow out as she sucks you off. You throw your head back and moan her name; the warmth of her mouth makes you forget about how rough your day was before this. 

Hayoung smiles; she loves seeing you lose yourself because of her. The young woman slowed down, making her movements more precise and using her tongue more. Your hips thrust up, and Hayoung has to hold you down. “Not so fast, baby. I’m in control.” She swallows the tip again and moves her tongue across the head and then back again. As your cock begins to throb, Hayoung quickens her movements; her hand strokes your cock quickly, making you cry out as she makes you cum in her mouth. Hayoung greedily drinks every drop, moaning as she tastes the salty liquid.  

Hayoung keeps her hand on your cock, stroking it until you’re hard again. Climbing onto your lap, she straddles you. She lays on top of your body, her elbows digging into your chest as she rests her head on her hands. “This little kitty had some milk; now she wants something else.” Hayoung rocks her hips back and forth, feeling your cock rub against her slit, her panties the only thing keeping you two apart. “How bad do you want it?”

“Hayoung, please,” you groan, feeling the heat from her body.

“It’s so fun seeing you like this,” she says with a smile. “I’ll make sure you enjoy this.”With that, Hayoung raises herself, pulling her panties to the side and rubbing the tip of your cock between her lips. She aligns you with her entrance and slowly sinks onto your cock, cooing as she feels you split her apart. “Oh, you're so big.” Hayoung takes you a little bit at a time, teasing you as she lowers herself a little more, only to rise back up to the tip. It’s madness on your end; you could only watch as Hayoung rode you. Eventually, she finally finished, taking your cock wholly inside her cunt. You were already near your climax at this point, but Hayoung was just beginning. She lifted herself up suddenly and just as quickly crashed against your body. Her eyes widen, and she gasps as she feels your cum pour into her body. “Oh, baby, you came already? I hope you have a little more for me.” Her words were teasing you; she leaned over and kissed your chest before beginning to ride you again. 

Hayoung bounced on your cock quickly. You groaned as she moved along your shaft; her walls clung to you. You’re more sensitive now and barely able to do anything as she rode you as if her life depended on it. She moaned your name, arched her back, and pushed herself to her climax. Hayoung only had two thoughts, one on how your cock was splitting her in two, and the other was how much she wanted your cum. Her usually cute smile looked sultry to you. She knew what she was doing. Hayoung swiveled her hips as she rode you, bringing in a new sense of pleasure as your cock rubbed against her walls. The two of you were getting close to cumming. Hayoung’s walls tightened around your cock, her pace became erratic and until she impaled herself on your cock, crying your name as you made her cum. You fell at the same moment, pouring another load of your semen inside her already full cunt. 

Hayoung grinded against you until she collapsed on top of you. “H-how was that?” she asks, out of breath.

“That was amazing,” You say, putting your arms on her waist. 

“Was I a good present?” 

“The best,” you say, leaning up to kiss her forehead. You chuckle as you see Hayoung transform back into her usual cute self. She has a warm and cute smile on her face as she closes her eyes and begins to fall asleep on your chest. You try to move to put her in a more comfortable position, but she shakes her head and holds onto you. You eventually give up and let her sleep on top of you, your cock still inside her.

[stylesispunk]

"Our little mistletoe" day 2/4

no outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

summary: You got sick during the week of Christmas. Unable to leave home, Joel brings Christmas to you, and some feelings are confessed.

wc: 6,3>

warnings: just fluff. (Yes, no angst.)

a/n: welcome to the second day of my joel's fic christmas version event. Perhaps, PERHAPS I will add one more day to this mini event. Thank you so much for the love on the day one of this mini event! So glad you lived that one. ♥️♥️ It's funny that at the same time, I'm writing this, I'm sick, but instead of cozy blankets and cold weather, here it's hot. I need Joel to come and save me. I don't know if you're gonna like this one as much as the fic one, i hope you like it though. Happy reading 💌

By this time of the day, you would have been already on Joel’s house, helping him to get everything ready for tonight’s dinner. Setting some last-minute decorations with Sarah that he always had forgot to put on display inside the house.

You weren’t the biggest fan of Christmas or travelling during these holidays, but you always had put a show for him, especially for Sarah since she was a little kid.

And he loved that. He loved it so much.

The way you belonged to his house, the way your skin seemed to glow under the twinkling lights, the smile you grace when he was opening the gift you had delicately chose for him.

Or the way you smelled like sweet pastries

You, just you.

You were his favorite part of the holidays and of life itself. You were woven into every tradition, every memory that mattered. From the moment you stepped into his life, you'd filled spaces he hadn't even known were empty.

Joel watched as you carefully adjusted a wreath over the fireplace, your fingers lingering to straighten the ribbon just so. Sarah had darted into the kitchen to check on the cookies, leaving the two of you in the soft glow of the Christmas tree.

“Think it looks alright?” you asked, turning to him with a smile that knocked the wind out of his chest.

“Looks perfect,” he murmured, but he wasn’t talking about the wreath.

You laughed, shaking your head as if you could brush off his intensity. “You always say that.”

“’Cause it’s always true,” he replied, voice low and warm.

You turned back to the decorations, but Joel kept his eyes on you, taking in the way you fit into this moment as though you were meant to be here all along.

It wasn’t just Christmas. It was you. It had always been you.

Joel’s thoughts came back to the present moment as worry nagged him. He checked on his phone, the last message he had sent you remained there, not even seen.

Joel’s thumb hovered over the screen, his brow furrowing as he stared at the text.

You on your way yet? Sarah's been asking for you.

The read receipt hadn’t popped up, and that alone was enough to set him on edge.

You were never late, especially not for Christmas dinner.

The sound of laughter floated from the kitchen as Sarah shouted something about burnt cookies, but Joel couldn’t focus. His gut twisted with a sense of unease he couldn’t shake. He stood, pacing toward the window, glancing out at the driveway that remained empty.

He checked the time. It wasn’t like you to keep him waiting.

Pulling his coat off the hook, Joel stepped out onto the porch. The cold air bit at his skin, but it didn’t matter. He needed to do something, anything. The world felt too still, too quiet without you in it.

He dialed your number, pacing back and forth as the phone rang. Once. Twice. Three times. Then it went to voicemail.

Joel ran a hand down his face, gripping the back of his neck as his heartbeat picked up.

“Where the hell are you?” he muttered under his breath, glancing at his phone again.

Just as he was about to call again, the door behind him creaked open, and Sarah peeked out, a worried look on her face.

“Dad? Everything okay?” she asked.

Joel forced a smile he didn’t feel. “Yeah, sweetheart. Just...waitin’ for her. You know how the roads can get this time of year.”

Joel barely had time to answer Sarah’s question when the sound of tires crunching against cobblestones pulled his attention. He turned toward the driveway to see Tommy’s truck rolling in, headlights cutting through the early winter dusk. Relief warred in his chest.

Tommy stepped out of the truck, shaking off the cold as he made his way to the porch. "Merry Christmas eve, big brother," he called, his usual smirk in place. But it faltered when he got a good look at Joel’s face. "What’s with the long face? Something happened?"

Joel didn’t waste time. “I need you to stay here with Sarah.”

Tommy blinked, confused. “What? Why? Ain’t this the time we’re all supposed to be gathering’ ‘round the tree, singing’ carols or whatever?”

“I think somethin’ might’ve happened,” Joel admitted referring to you, his tone heavy with worry. “She isn’t here yet. Ain’t answerin’ my messages or calls, and that just...ain’t her.”

Tommy’s playful demeanor vanished, replaced by quiet seriousness. “Alright. I’ll stay. Go find her.”

Joel gave him a firm nod, patting his shoulder in thanks before grabbing his keys and heading for his truck. He was halfway down the driveway, his mind already running through the possibilities, car trouble, icy roads, something worse, when his phone buzzed on the seat beside him.

He swerved to a stop, snatching the phone up. It was you.

“Hey,” he answered, his voice sharp with worry. “Where the hell are you? Are you alright?”

There was a long pause on the other end, and then your voice came through, soft and raspy. “I’m so sorry, Joel. I overslept. I think I’m coming down with something.”

Joel exhaled sharply, a mix of relief and concern flooding through him. “Jesus, you scared the hell outta me. You could’ve called sooner.”

“I know,” you murmured, guilt laced in your tone. “I didn’t want to ruin your Christmas eve or worry you. I just...I feel awful.”

Joel’s grip on the phone tightened as he pulled off the road, parking his truck. “Ruin my Christmas eve?” he echoed, his voice softening. “You’re the only part of it I care about.”

There was a pause on your end, and Joel could imagine the way you’d be biting your lip at his words. “I’m sorry, Joel. I really wanted to be there, but I barely can keep myself up.”

“You don’t gotta apologize. You just sit tight, alright?” Joel's voice was firm but gentle, there was a lace of disappointment hanging there, but because of the thought of you spending all this night alone. "I’ll figure it out. Just rest, okay? I’ll check on you later."

You let out a tired sigh, tinged with a hint of guilt. "Okay. Merry Christmas eve, Joel. Tell Sarah I’m sorry."

Joel’s chest tightened at how small your voice sounded, the strength you usually carried replaced by exhaustion. "Merry Christmas eve, darlin’. Just take care of yourself, alright?"

He ended the call, staring at his phone for a moment before slipping it into his pocket. The engine idled quietly as Joel sat there, the glow of his truck’s dashboard lights illuminating his face. You might have been stuck at home, but that didn’t mean you had to spend Christmas Eve alone.

A plan had come up to his mind.

He swung the truck around, heading back toward the house with a sense of purpose. When he pulled into the driveway, Tommy was waiting on the porch, bundled in his coat, a questioning look on his face.

"Everything alright?" Tommy asked as Joel climbed out.

“She’s sick,” Joel said, already heading toward the front door. "Ain’t coming over."

Tommy frowned. "Then why are you back? Givin’ up that easy?"

Joel shot him a pointed look as he stepped inside. "Hell no. We’re taking Christmas to her."

Sarah popped her head out from the kitchen, her face lighting up when she saw her dad. "She’s not coming?"

"Not feelin’ well," Joel explained as he grabbed a couple of boxes of decorations from the living room. "But that don’t mean she’s missin’ out."

Sarah grinned, catching on to his plan. "You mean we’re bringing all this to her place?"

"Damn right we are," Joel said, already sorting through the things he’d need. "Grab the cookies, the rest of the food and some of the lights."

Tommy let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "You’re really doin’ this, huh?"

Joel shot him a look that said everything. "All of us, Tommy. Come on”

Tommy raised an eyebrow, his smirk fading as realization dawned. “Wait, me too?

Joel didn’t even pause as he grabbed another box of lights. “You’re comin’. You’re part of this family, ain’t you?”

Tommy smiled, following Joel into the kitchen, where Sarah was already busy wrapping up the food with a determined look on her face. “Fine, but don’t blame me if I eat half those cookies on the way.”

“You do, and you’re walkin’,” Joel shot back, his voice teasing but his pace relentless.

Within minutes, the truck was packed to the brim. Lights, food, decorations, everything that screamed Christmas was crammed into the back. Joel stood by the truck, taking a deep breath, his hands on his hips as he looked over the load.

“Think she’ll like it?” Sarah asked, her smile lighting up her face.

Joel turned to her with a small smile, his tone soft. “She’ll love it, baby girl”

“Alright, let’s go before I change my mind about this,” Tommy muttered, climbing into the passenger seat.

As Tommy settled into the passenger seat, he rummaged through one of the bags he’d grabbed last minute from the house. A sly grin spread across his face as he pulled out a small sprig of mistletoe, holding it up between two fingers.

“Don’t forget about this, big brother,” he said, his tone dripping with mischief as he waved it in Joel’s direction.

Joel glanced over, narrowing his eyes. “What the hell are you doin’ with that?”

Tommy shrugged, clearly enjoying himself. “Figured you’d want it. Never know when it might come in handy. You will Kiss her tonight, brother”

Joel rolled his eyes, though the heat creeping up his neck betrayed him. “Tommy, don’t start.”

“I’m just sayin’.” Tommy leaned back, twirling the mistletoe like it was some kind of trophy. “You’re doin’ all this for her, haulin’ Christmas across town like some kinda lovesick Santa Claus. Might as well seal the deal.”

“Tommy,” Joel warned, his voice low and pointed. “This ain’t about that.”

“Oh, sure,” Tommy said, his grin widening. “Just about spreadin’ some holiday cheer, huh? Totally normal to pack up half your house for a ‘friend.’” He made air quotes with his fingers, earning a laugh from Sarah in the backseat.

“Uncle Tommy’s got a point, Dad,” Sarah chimed in, her voice light but playful. “I mean, you like her, right? Why not just go for it?”

Joel gripped the wheel a little tighter, his jaw working as he tried to come up with a response that wouldn’t give Tommy and Sarah even more ammunition. “Ain’t the time for that,” he muttered.

Tommy leaned forward, mistletoe still in hand. “Oh, come on, Joel. You’re already playin’ the hero tonight. Don’t tell me you’re gonna chicken out now.”

Joel shot him a glare, but Tommy just laughed. “You’re impossible,” Joel muttered, snatching the mistletoe from his brother’s hand and tossing it onto the dashboard.

“Just keep it handy,” Tommy said with a wink. “You’ll thank me later.”

Joel shook his head, but the teasing didn’t stop the thought from creeping in. The mistletoe sat there, a quiet challenge he wasn’t quite ready to face, as they drove toward your house.

You had just started to drift off, the ache in your head and the warmth of your blankets pulling you under, when a knock at the door jolted you awake. At first, you thought you’d imagined it, but there it was again, a firm, familiar rhythm that made your heart stutter.

Groaning softly, you pushed yourself up, wrapping the blanket tighter around your shoulders as you shuffled toward the door. The pounding in your head didn’t do much to help the confusion swirling in your mind. Who would be here at this hour?

You opened the door a crack, peeking out cautiously, only to have your breath catch in your throat.

Joel stood there, snow dusting his hair and jacket, his arms holding a box full of things that looked suspiciously festive. Behind him, Sarah and Tommy were standing by the truck, each holding their own share of decorations and food.

“Joel?” you croaked, your voice rough from the scratchiness in your throat.

“Hey,” he said softly, his eyes sweeping over you with concern. “You look like hell.”

“Wow, thanks,” you muttered, pulling the blanket closer around you. “What’re you doing here?”

“Bringin’ Christmas to you,” he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Your mouth opened, but no words came out. Joel took the opportunity to step inside, brushing past you gently as he carried a box of decorations toward your living room. Sarah and Tommy followed suit, grinning like conspirators as they set down their own loads of holiday cheer.

“Wait, wait,” you protested, your head spinning as you tried to keep up. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“No,” Joel said, turning to face you, his expression warm but resolute. “But I wanted to. You shouldn’t spend Christmas alone, sick or not.”

Sarah appeared at your side, holding a plate of cookies wrapped in foil. “We made these for you! Well, Dad baked them”

“Did you bake them?” You asked, recieiving the plate from Sarah.

“No, I bought them, really. I made Sarah believe I was baking” he replied, without giving himself credit.

“Such a fake” you said, but you couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you, though it quickly turned into a cough. Joel was at your side in an instant, his hand on your back, steadying you.

“C’mon,” he said, guiding you gently toward the couch. “Sit down. Let us take care of this.”

“Joel,” you began, your voice hoarse but filled with emotion, “you really didn’t have to—”

“I did,” he cut you off, his tone leaving no room for argument. His eyes softened as he looked at you, and for a moment, the chaos of the room faded into the background. “You’re part of this, part of us. Always have been. So, yeah, I did.”

You blinked at him, your chest tightening with something that wasn’t just the cold. Before you could respond, Tommy called out from the kitchen.

Before you could say anything, Tommy’s voice broke through the moment, his tone dripping with playful mischief.

“Well, look at this,” he drawled, stepping closer with the infamous sprig of mistletoe in his hand. “Y’know, I’ve been thinkin’. She looks at you like you’re her Christmas miracle, Joel. Might as well give her a reason to keep starin’.”

Joel groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Tommy, don’t—”

But Tommy was already moving. With the precision of a man who lived to be a menace, he slipped the mistletoe into the back pocket of Joel’s jeans, patting it smugly as if he’d completed a masterpiece.

“There,” Tommy declared, looking incredibly pleased with himself. “Now you’re carryin’ it everywhere, just in case the moment strikes. Plus,” he added with a wink in your direction, “I think someone else here might be on board with this idea.”

Your face burned as the attention shifted to you, and you quickly glanced away, pretending to be fascinated by the pattern on the blanket you’d pulled over your lap.

“Tommy,” Joel growled, his voice a low warning.

“What?” Tommy said, holding his hands up in mock innocence. “I’m just tryin’ to help. I mean, come on, big brother. Don’t act like she ain’t got that same look you’ve been sportin’ for years now.”

“Tommy,” Joel repeated, but there was a faint flush creeping up his neck now.

You managed to peek up at Joel, your heart thudding painfully in your chest. Tommy’s teasing words might’ve been delivered with a smirk, but there was truth buried in them.

Joel caught your gaze, and for a split second, everything else seemed to fade.

“Alright, enough,” Joel said finally, dragging a hand down his face as he shot Tommy a glare. “Don’t you have somethin’ better to do?”

“Not really,” Tommy quipped, sauntering off toward the pile of lights he’d been working on.

As the room filled with Sarah’s chatter and the sound of Christmas music Tommy had turned on, Joel lingered by your side, looking equal parts exasperated and amused.

“Don’t pay him any mind,” he murmured, his voice soft enough that only you could hear. “He’s just talkin’ nonsense.”

But when you glanced down at the faint hint of green peeking from his back pocket, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, Tommy wasn’t entirely wrong.

As the evening wore on, the laughter and warmth filling your small home was everything you hadn’t realized you needed. The twinkling lights Joel and Sarah had strung up bathed the room in a soft glow, and the scent of cookies and food mingled with the piney aroma of the small tree Tommy had managed to haul inside.

But as much as you loved the idea of them bringing Christmas to you, the pounding in your head refused to let up. You tried to hide it, smiling and laughing as Sarah excitedly talked about different things, but she was too perceptive for her own good.

“Are you okay?” Sarah asked gently, her brows furrowing as she leaned closer to you on the couch.

You waved her off with a weak smile. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Just a little tired, that’s all.”

Sarah wasn’t convinced. She glanced over at Joel, who was mid-conversation with Tommy about fixing the uneven lights on the tree. “Maybe we should let her rest,” Sarah said softly, her concern evident. “We can go back home. It’s been such a nice night already.”

“No,” you said quickly, sitting up straighter despite the dull ache in your head. “I don’t want you to leave. You’ve already done so much, and I couldn’t bear the thought of you packing everything up after all this effort.”

Joel turned his head at the sound of your voice, his eyes narrowing as he took in your pale complexion. “You sure, darlin’? You look like you could use some quiet.”

“I’m sure,” you insisted, though the words came out weaker than you intended. “You’ve made this place feel like Christmas. Stay. Please.”

Tommy smirked from where he was fiddling with the ornaments. “Guess that settles it. Looks like we’re havin’ a sleepover.”

Sarah’s face lit up. “Really? We can stay?”

You nodded, giving her a reassuring smile. “Of course. There’s plenty of room.”

Joel rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze flicking between you and Sarah. “Alright, but only if you promise to tell me if you’re feelin’ worse. I mean it.”

You nodded, touched by the concern in his voice.

“Well,” Joel said, clapping his hands together. “If we’re stayin’, how ‘bout a movie? Somethin’ Christmas-y.”

Sarah practically bounced in her seat. “Home Alone!” she suggested immediately.

Tommy groaned. “Haven’t we seen that one a hundred times?”

“Exactly,” Sarah retorted, grinning.

Joel chuckled and looked at you. “What d’you think?”

You leaned back into the couch, grateful for the blanket Sarah had draped over you earlier. “Home Alone sounds perfect.”

Sarah bounced up from the couch, eager to grab snacks and drinks for everyone. As she passed Joel, she flashed him a mischievous smile. "You can sit by her now, dad," she said, her voice teasing. "She's gonna need someone to keep her warm."

Joel gave her a mock glare, but there was a warmth in his eyes as he stood up and made his way toward the couch. He carefully settled beside you, just close enough that you could feel his presence, but not so close that it felt intrusive. He was getting really nervous about your company tonight in a way his heart seemed to explode at the thought of touching you.

“Comfy?” he asked quietly, his eyes scanning your face for any signs that you were still struggling. His hand rested on the couch cushion next to yours, as if he was just waiting for the right moment to reach for you if you needed him.

You smiled faintly, grateful for his care. “Yeah,” you whispered, your voice still a bit rough. “Thanks for staying. This... this means a lot.”

He glanced at you, his gaze softening. “You’re not gonna get rid of me that easily, darlin’.” There was a tenderness in his voice that made your heart flutter despite the headache.

You shifted slightly on the couch, the warmth of his presence comforting, and without thinking, you leaned in closer, resting your head gently on his shoulder. You could feel the muscles in his arm tense slightly, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he shifted just enough to make sure you were comfortable, his warmth enveloping you like a protective blanket.

For a moment, you simply listened to the sounds of the movie and the gentle chatter of Sarah and Tommy, feeling the steady rise and fall of Joel’s breath beneath your ear. The headache was still there, pounding softly in the background, but having Joel so near helped ease the tension in your body, his steady presence grounding you.

Joel’s hand, which had been resting on the cushion beside you, slowly moved. At first, it just hovered near your shoulder, but then, as though asking permission, it settled softly on your arm. His touch was gentle, a silent reassurance that he was there, that he wasn’t going anywhere.

"Is this okay?" he asked quietly, his voice low, barely louder than the sound of the movie.

You nodded slightly, not trusting yourself to speak. His presence, his warmth, it was exactly what you needed, even if you hadn’t realized it before. You allowed yourself to sink further into him, feeling a small sense of peace settle over you.

Joel’s hand tightened just slightly, not enough to be uncomfortable, but enough to remind you that he was there.

I’m here, and I’m not leaving.

The steady rhythm of Joel’s breath, the warmth of his body next to yours, and the gentle hum of the movie in the background all worked together to lull you into a calm, peaceful state. Your eyelids grew heavier with each passing second, the exhaustion from the day and the pounding headache making it harder to stay awake.

As you settled deeper into the couch, Joel’s presence became the anchor that kept you grounded, and before you knew it, you drifted off, your breathing slowing into a relaxed, steady pattern. The last thing you were aware of was the comforting weight of his arm around you, pulling you just a little bit closer, as if he too was holding onto this moment, savoring the peace and quiet that you shared together.

Joel didn’t say anything as you fell asleep. He simply let you rest, his hand lightly stroking your arm as he made sure you were comfortable, his gaze softening as he looked down at you. His heart swelled with a tenderness that made him afraid of his feelings.

As you slept peacefully, nestled against Joel, the soft glow of the Christmas lights cast a warm hue across the room. The only sound was the low hum of the movie playing in the background and the occasional shift of movement from the others.

Tommy, who had been lounging on the armchair, glanced over at the two of you with a smirk. He was doing his best to stifle a laugh, but it was clear he couldn’t resist.

“Well, well,” Tommy teased quietly, “You look adorable together.”

Joel’s eyes flicked to Tommy, a mix of annoyance and something else flickering in his gaze. He could get used to spend every day with you like this.  “Shut up, Tommy,” he muttered under his breath, but his tone was far from harsh. He didn’t want to wake you, not when you were so peacefully resting.

Joel shot him a warning look, but the corners of his lips tugged into a smile despite himself. “You’ve got a hell of a way of making things awkward,” he grumbled, but it was clear he wasn’t bothered by the teasing.

Meanwhile, Sarah had curled up on the floor with a blanket, her eyes already fluttering closed. She was tired from the day’s events, her excitement finally catching up to her.

Joel looked down at you again, his hand still lightly resting on your shoulder as if unwilling to move. But then he noticed Sarah, fast asleep on the floor, and a new thought came to him.

“Tommy,” Joel called quietly, nudging his brother once more. “Can you help me get Sarah to the guest room? She’s out cold, and I don’t want her sleepin’ on the floor.”

Tommy, not missing a beat, grinned widely. “I can’t believe you’re getting rid of your daughter to get a girlfriend,” he teased, winking at Joel.

Joel didn’t even respond to that, his attention already on you. “Just help me, damn it,” he muttered, trying to keep the playful teasing to a minimum.

With a sigh, Tommy got up and walked over to Sarah, carefully lifting her and making sure she didn’t stir. Joel remained on the couch, his heart still racing from the tenderness of the moment, silently praying that you wouldn’t wake up just yet.

As Tommy returned to the living room, he gave Joel a quick nod, signaling that Sarah was settled comfortably in the guest room. Joel looked down at you, still asleep on his shoulder, and a deep tenderness washed over him. He wasn’t sure if he could carry you without waking you, but seeing you so peaceful in his arms made him want to do everything he could to keep you safe and comfortable.

He carefully lifted you, one arm gently supporting your back and the other under your knees. His movements were slow and deliberate, trying his best not to disturb you. Your soft, steady breathing was a comfort to him as he began walking toward your bedroom.

Tommy, noticing the situation, gave Joel a teasing grin. “You sure you don’t need help, Joel?”

Joel shot him a look, his usual gruffness softened by the moment. “Just keep it down, alright? Don’t wanna wake her.”

Tommy’s grin only widened, but he stayed quiet, giving Joel the space he needed.

As Joel made his way into your bedroom, he gently lowered you onto the bed, making sure your head was resting comfortably on the pillow. He tucked the blanket around you, his fingers brushing against your skin for a brief moment. It wasn’t much, but the way you looked so peaceful made something inside him stir, and for a second, he just stood there, watching you.

His gaze lingered on your face, tracing the soft curve of your features, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Get some rest, darlin'," he whispered, as if the words could protect you from whatever might come next. "I’m right here."

Joel returned to the living room, his footsteps quiet but deliberate. Tommy, who had been half-leaning on the couch with his feet up, looked up at him with a smirk. Joel wiped a hand across his face, trying to shake off the quiet weight of the night.

“I’ll take the sofa,” Joel said, his voice low. “You can take the other bed in the guest room. It’s all set up.”

Tommy gave him an exaggerated shrug, as if to say he didn’t care where he slept. “Alright, alright. Guess it’s good to be the one on the couch for once.” He stood up and stretched, heading toward the guest room Joel had pointed out. “Night, man.”

“Night, Tommy,” Joel muttered, already turning back toward the bedroom.

Once everything settled down, the house was quiet again, save for the soft sounds of the holiday decorations swaying and the occasional crackle from the fireplace. Joel moved softly, making his way back down the hall to your room, checking the time briefly as he walked. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt the need to be near you, even if you were sleeping.

When he pushed open the door to your room, expecting to see you still sleeping peacefully, his heart stuttered in his chest. There you were, awake, your eyes wide, watching him from the bed. The soft light of the bedside lamp illuminated your face, casting a warm glow over your features.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, just taking in the presence of the other.

"Hey," Joel said quietly, leaning against the doorframe, his voice hoarse, like he was still trying to process the night.

You offered him a tired smile, but there was something else there too, an understanding, something deeper that only the two of you seemed to share “How did I get here?” you asked.

Joel stepped closer, his eyes softening. “I carried you to bed.” he confessed, his voice gentle. His gaze dropped to the bed, the warmth of your presence drawing him in. “You feeling better?”

You nodded slightly, even though you knew you weren’t completely alright. But there was something about having Joel near you that made you feel just a little more at ease.

“I’m alright now," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "But you should get some rest too. You’ve done more than enough."

Joel stood there for a beat, as if considering what to say next. Then, he smiled softly, a trace of that quiet tenderness in his eyes. “I’ll rest when I know you’re okay.”

With that, he pulled up a chair near the bed, sitting down so that he could keep an eye on you. He wasn’t sure how long he’d stay there, but he didn’t mind. He just needed to know you were alright.

You shifted slightly in the bed, glancing over at Joel, who was still sitting in the chair, watching you with that soft, protective look in his eyes. A small, tired smile tugged at the corner of your lips as you studied him for a moment.

"What are you doing?" you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper, the weight of the night lingering in the air between you. "You don't have to sit there all night."

Joel chuckled quietly, though it held a hint of disbelief. "I'm just making sure you're okay," he said, his voice low but reassuring. He leaned forward in the chair, resting his elbows on his knees, never taking his eyes off you. "I told you, I’ll rest when you’re alright."

You could see the exhaustion etched on his face, his shoulders slumped with the weight of the long night, but there was still that protective energy about him. You couldn’t help but feel grateful, though you also felt a small ache in your chest seeing him so worn out.

“You can sleep with me, Joel," you said, the words slipping out before you had a chance to stop them. You quickly added, "I mean, if you want to. You don’t have to keep sitting there."

Joel’s expression softened as he took in your offer. He hesitated for a moment, the vulnerability in the air palpable between you two. Then, after what seemed like an eternity, he finally nodded.

"Yeah," he said quietly, his voice a little rough with emotion. "I think I’d like that."

He stood up slowly, as if testing the idea, then moved to your side. You shifted to make room for him, pulling the blanket back slightly. As he lay down beside you, his warmth seemed to fill the room, and you could feel the tension in your chest loosen just a little.

Joel settled in beside you, not too close but close enough that you could feel his presence. His hand brushed yours, and you both let out a quiet, simultaneous sigh of relief. He shifted onto his side, facing you, his eyes scanning your face as if to make sure you were still okay.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The room was still, only the quiet sound of your breathing filling the space. Finally, Joel’s voice broke the silence, low and soft.

"You sure you're alright?" he asked, his thumb gently brushing over the back of your hand.

You nodded, your heart swelling with emotion as you glanced over at him. "I’m better now," you whispered. "With you here." You paused for a moment “What you did tonight…I can’t find the words to thank you.”

Joel smiled, a small but sincere curve of his lips, as he adjusted slightly, bringing you closer to him. “You don’t have to thank me,” he murmured softly, his voice warm and reassuring. “You’re important to me.”

His words, though comforting, didn’t stop the weight of your emotions from building up inside you. The closeness, the warmth of his presence, and everything that had happened tonight made your heart swell with something deeper than gratitude.

Taking a deep breath, you lifted your head slightly, your eyes meeting his with a vulnerability you hadn’t shown before. “I love you, Joel,” you said, the words coming out softly but with a sincerity that made your chest ache.

Joel’s expression softened even more, his thumb still brushing lightly over your hand. “I love you too,” he whispered, his voice deep and full of emotion.

You frowned, a little pout forming on your lips as you shifted slightly. “No, you don’t understand,” you murmured, feeling the weight of the moment grow even more. “I love you. I’m in love with you.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, almost too heavy to breathe through. Joel’s gaze softened, searching your eyes as if trying to understand what you meant. And when he did, his expression shifted, becoming more tender, more real. Before you could pull away, you buried your face in the crook of his neck, hiding from the intensity of the confession, but also seeking the comfort of his warmth.

Joel’s hand gently cradled the back of your head, his thumb still brushing through your hair as he held you close. The room was filled with a silence that seemed to stretch on forever, and then, in the softest of tones, he spoke.

“Can you repeat it?” His voice was a little rough, full of longing, but there was a hint of vulnerability there too.

You shook your head, keeping your face hidden in the crook of his neck, trying to gather the courage to meet his gaze again. The weight of your own confession was still hanging in the air, making you feel exposed and raw. You mumbled against his skin, “I can’t. It’s too much.”

Joel chuckled softly, the sound warm and comforting. He shifted slightly, pulling you back just enough to tilt your chin gently upward, so you had no choice but to look into his eyes. The tenderness there was undeniable. “That’s bad,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, “’cause I’m in love with you too.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, you could only stare at him, eyes wide with surprise. The feeling of his words settled over you, warming you from the inside out, making your heart race.

“I—” You started, but the words stuck in your throat. The vulnerability between the two of you was overwhelming, and yet, it felt like everything had finally clicked into place. There were no more doubts. No more fear.

Joel smiled softly, the warmth of his eyes never leaving yours as he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “We’re here now.”

The weight of his words hung in the air between you, a promise, a shared truth. You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the warmth of his presence sink into your bones, the steady rhythm of his breathing grounding you. It felt like everything you’d hoped for was finally coming into focus.

Joel gently cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing the softness of your skin as he looked at you, his eyes full of tenderness and something deeper. His gaze was steady, searching for any sign of doubt, but all he found was you—vulnerable, open, and more than ready for what was happening between you two.

“You’re not alone,” he murmured, his voice low but full of meaning. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here, with you.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, your heart swelling with emotions too big for words. “I know,” you whispered, a smile finally tugging at the corners of your lips. “I know now.”

Joel’s smile deepened, and in that moment, it was like the world outside of your little bubble didn’t matter. All that existed was the two of you, tangled up in something more real and beautiful than you could have imagined.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours with the softest of touches, as if asking for permission. And when you responded, meeting him halfway, the kiss deepened, both of you tasting the sweet vulnerability of this new chapter.

You pulled away slowly, your forehead resting against his, your breaths mingling. “You’re gonna get sick now”

Joel chuckled softly, his breath warm against your skin as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’ll take my chances,” he murmured, his hands finding their way back to your waist, pulling you closer. “I’m not letting go now.”

You laughed quietly, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. “You’re stubborn,” you said, but there was no annoyance in your voice—just affection.

“And you love me for it,” he replied with a playful grin, his thumb tracing small circles on your back.

You smirked, rolling your eyes slightly, though your heart was full. “I do,” you admitted, your voice soft, the words carrying more weight than you’d ever thought they would. “I really do.”

Joel smiled, his expression softening as he leaned in once more, brushing his lips against yours, but you placed your hand up to stop him for a moment, hanging the little mistletoe over your heads.

Joel raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a grin as you held the mistletoe above your heads. "Where do you get that from?" he asked, amusement dancing in his eyes.

You smirked, your heart racing with a mix of excitement and mischief. "I stole it from you," you replied, your voice teasing, yet sincere.

Joel chuckled, the sound warm and full of affection. "I should’ve known," he said, shaking his head with a playful sigh. "You’re sneaky."

You shrugged, the mistletoe still hovering between you. "I had to make sure it was the right moment."

He chuckled again, and this time, his hands found your waist once more, pulling you close as he leaned in, his eyes softening. "Well, since you put it like that..."

With a grin, he pressed his lips to yours, the kiss deepening as you both shared in the quiet joy of the moment.

Joel pulled away just enough to look into your eyes, his expression soft and full of warmth. "You know," he said, his voice low and sincere, "you’re the best gift I could ever ask for."

You felt your heart swell, and a soft smile tugged at your lips. His words, simple yet heartfelt, made everything feel right. Before you could respond, Joel’s grin returned, playful yet tender.

"And," he continued with a teasing glint in his eyes, "I hope you’ll take care of me when I inevitably get sick from all this kissing."

You raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smile forming on your lips. "Oh, don’t worry," you replied, your tone light but affectionate, "I’m more than happy to take care of you."

Joel chuckled, pulling you closer again, his arms wrapping around you like a shield. "Good," he murmured, his forehead resting against yours. "Because I’m not going anywhere."

The warmth between you both felt like the perfect ending to a night full of new beginnings, and as he kissed you again.

And again.

And he thought he would never get tired of it.

[bandedbulbussnarfblat]

I just suddenly had a memory and had to share. Usually I'm one of those stick to the tags people, but I think this explains the disconnect some people experience entirely.

Once upon a time, I was an elementary school teacher. (I only made it one year before I switched to being a TA instead, and parents like these were part of the reason.) I'm gonna put it under a thingy bc idk how to be concise.

So at the beginning of the year, parents get supply lists. They try to keep them mostly the same throughout grade level, your standard box of #2 pencils, 2 pens, 2 boxes of crayons (bc kids break crayons like crazy) an eraser, 2 glue sticks and some sort pencil box/pouch to keep their stuff in.

First day, kids come in and start unloading their stuff. I start taking up glue sticks to put in the clear container on the counter/cubby. This one dad gets mad, saying that he didn't buy glue sticks for every kid in the class to use. (I'm doing the same thing with the 2nd box of crayons, but I am telling kids to write their names on them using their pens, bc some kids got Crayola and some kids got Rose-Art and that's something parents might get mad over.) I try to very politely explain to him that it's easier to keep them all in one place as the kids tend to lose them, or forget to roll down the glue or put the cap back on, and this way I can check behind them and make sure none of the glue sticks are wasted.

This guy is sure that his precious little princess of a daughter would never forget to put her cap back on her glue stick, despite being like, seven. Mind you, we are in the "waiting area" between three classrooms. It has the bathrooms, and the tables where the kids can be pulled for one on one or small group work. We can't step into the hall bc I have to monitor my students. TAs all have morning duties.

And also, what if she never uses two whole glue sticks? Am I just going to keep it instead of sending it home with her? This man is nearly having a full on tantrum over glue sticks. This was over a decade ago, when you could still buy a pack of 2 for a dollar and change.

I am nervous, bc there is a man who is raising his voice at me, but I am also pissed off, bc there is a man raising his voice in front of my students. So I laugh it off and walk away, telling him most of us don't mind sharing with our friends, "do we?" I get a tiny little chorus of voices that say 'no'. I add that by the time winter break comes, I'll have to go out and buy more myself anyway, like I did with all the other supplies that were already in the classroom. But that donations are always appreciated. Then I just started talking to my students and ignoring him and he left. And I'm really glad bc I may have started crying if he kept being mean to me.

Oh, and his daughter ended up being my student who would threaten to hold her breath until she passed out if she didn't get her way. I think I rocked her entire world when I told her to go ahead; as soon as she passed out her body would start breathing again on its own.

my dad, trying to explain the concept of money to me: say you have a sandwich, and i need your sandwich. but i don't have anything to give you. you're not just gonna give it to me.

me: i would just give it to you.

my dad:

[madschiavelique]

A Crown Of Ink : Chapter 9 - Death

summary : maybe it is time for reader to move on from patterns that are now useless and reconsider things

content warnings : some angst, then some comfort, then more angst, then more comfort, some crude language an mentions of harassment

word count : 6.1k

author's note : okay i think i might write my old bg3 requests still sitting in my inbox after this but!!!! im excited to write the next chap

proofread by the lovely @yaffles-world <3

masterlist : here

taglist : @doctorho @6selkie @yunloyal @kryscent @hypocritic-trash-baby @kapitankarate @a-lovers-card @ababanerb @lolixsstuff @forget-me-not-my-dear @smolanchovy @shugar0cone0alt @harrys--ferret-blog @suuummerrr @stillinracooncity @noxturnalmoth @dlbitch @cloufire @csolya @kathyholdsagrudge @furblrwurblr @potatointhedirt @atrocioushaircut @ren-ni @schrodingersraven @urmommt

You had spent your Saturday recovering, not without frustration. It was a waste of time, you thought. You could have taken advantage of a day without any classes or work like that to study and make more progress, but Selene had come to visit you, worried.

She officially met Sky, who had always admired her since her first lessons with her. Selene had come to your bedside, placing a gentle hand on your forehead for a moment, then letting it slide down to your warm cheek. She sighed, familiar with your overworking habits.

She asked Sky about your night, about the prescribed treatment, and Selene couldn't help but exchange a knowing glance with you when Viktor was mentioned, especially for such chivalrous deeds. She smiled a playful ‘see, I told you so’ which made you pull your cover over your head in annoyance.

When she left, Sky came back to you, bringing you a chicken broth to restore your health, which she hoped you'd consume to the last drop.

"I'm sorry it had to come to this and calling them, calling him. But..." She sighed, watching you finally eat something with relief. "You were working yourself to death, and with such a pace, you probably wouldn't have been able to pass the exams at all if you'd kept going."

You swallowed your mouthful with difficulty, a small knot of shame and regret tightening it. You'd been so obsessed, so fixated on outdoing yourself and winning back your number one spot from Viktor that you'd become nothing more than an information-gobbling machine.

You didn't even need it, you'd just decided to get ahead on the next year's syllabus in the hope of impressing in the papers and showing your dedication. How could you be so stupid? 

"Your state was deteriorating visibly..." Sky reflected, looking down at her hands before only meeting your gaze for a moment. "You really scared me, you know."

Your heart split in two. You placed your lunch tray on your bedside table, taking Sky's hands in yours and seeking her gaze despite her bowed head.

"Hey," you murmured in your tired voice as you smiled softly at her when she looked back at you. "You did the right thing, Sky. Without you..." you sighed, thinking back on your stupidity, "I don't know where I'd be right now. This was going to eat me alive until there would be nothing left of me but a white chalk outline on my desk."

She smiled softly, squeezing your hands. Her eyes glistened, her chin trembling slightly as she took off her glasses.

"Oh, Sky..." You pulled her into your arms, holding her close. "I'm sorry."

You couldn't imagine how tired she must have been, seeing you wasting away like that, not listening to her, not hearing her. She had her own revisions, her own things to do, and you had made your problem hers.

You could feel her forehead wrinkling, her hands trembling slightly around you as she twitched.

Since when did you become such an important part of someone's life that they cared that much about you?

What would have happened if, for one more year, you'd never had a flatmate? And if that flatmate hadn't been Sky, would she have had even an ounce of patience like your friend?

You'd fucked up and nearly gone off the deep end, and Sky had done everything she could to avoid it.

"I promise you to never do that again," you vowed, pulling away from her to run your thumb over her cheek and wipe away the tears. "Please, don't cry on me. Cry on... I don't know, Heimerdinger's hairstylist."

Don't cry for me, I'm not worth a waste of tears, not yours.

She laughed nervously, her eyes going to the ceiling. "I don't know why I'm crying, really, this is..." she sniffed, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, "this is stupid."

"No, it's not," you smiled, "It's good to cry."

She raised her eyebrows, wiggling her nose and shrugging. "Well, you never do."

"That's because I sold my lacrimal glands," you chuckled, trying to lighten the mood by joking.

And it worked - she laughed, the sadness slowly evaporating from her face. "So you have no tears, but you still have your heart, right ?"

You closed your fist, banging it against your chest. "It's a dusty engine, but it does its work."

"Well," she stood up, "I hope it can still feel something."

You observed her for a moment, picking up a saucepan and filling it with water. No doubt to make coffee, or at least tea to ward off your addiction and prevent your mechanical heart from overheating under the caffeine. No amount of Piltovian gold could offer you anything like Sky's sweetness.

"My heart's full of room for the very few friends I have." You picked up your bowl of broth again, its warmth cupped against your fingers. "Its aorta is named after you."

She turned to you, smiling, her eyes filling again with tears as she breathed in. 

"You can't just say things like that and not expect me to ruin a box of these," she described movements in the air with her hands in ridiculous, exagerated swirls, "silk-soft tissues they have here."

"Their toilet paper is so thick and soft it feels like we're using pillows," you sneered before blowing on the bouillon.

"Right?!" Sky exclaimed, "It's only been like, a month and a half since I've been here and it all feels so fancy. Everything is so... clean."

"I know!" You laughed, "It's infuriating. The streets barely have a scratch, the buildings have colours straight out of a kid's colouring book, and they have trees."

She sighed, visualising the vegetation the city had before her eyes fell back on yours. "You never get used to it, right?"

You swallowed your mouthful of broth, pressing your lips into a thin line. "Never."

She leaned back against the worktop, watching you for a moment. "Seriously though." She tilted her head to one side. "Don't ever do that again."

You smiled, bringing your forefinger and thumb to your ear and pressing on the lobe. 

It was a custom in Zaun to pledge your word. In the Undercity, you pressed your lobe as if you were piercing it, to imaginatively seal in the skin a ring other than the one on your finger. However, everyone knows that if you pull too hard on a piercing, you can tear the flesh, and find it difficult to retie the skin so that it can be pierced again. So the promise was made with a symbolic ring, anchored in the skin, that the promise would be kept.

"May my flesh tear apart if, by misfortune, I betrayed," you recited.

During the rest of the last week of classes before the exams, you resumed a much more normal revision routine than the original, much to Sky's delight. You'd revise with her in the afternoons outside class, asking each other questions about the subjects you shared while you were trying not to die laughing from the stupid ways you looked with your facemasks during skincare time.

When Friday came around, you decided to go to the library again. Unconsciously, it had become a ritual. With Viktor or without, you intended to surround yourself with knowledge as immense as possible.

You went and sat down at a table, alone, while many students who had come for the same reason were already crowding most of the available ones. You took out your things, rereading your index cards for the umpteenth time until you were almost ready to recite them by heart if the need arose.

You couldn't help but lose concentration when you heard your name spoken in the distance, coming from voices that weren’t familiar to you, further behind your back.

"And to say Viktor got put with her on Heimerdinger's subject," one said, chuckling.

"I wonder which of them pulls their hair out more in each other's company."

You tried not to think about it, but since, for once, the conversation wasn't all about the walking street lamp, you couldn't help but let your ears hang close to their mouths.

"Did you see her the other day? A vision of the apocalypse. Hollow cheeks and dead eyes like she hadn't eaten in a month."

"Gotta have hollow cheeks to suck the teachers better," her classmate sneered.

Your jaw tightened, trying to ignore their remarks. This wasn't your first time hearing such things - the previous two years hadn't been as gentle as this one, even if Viktor had caused a few problems with his arrival.

"Can you believe what she did to Tyler?"

"She's an animal." They both laughed, causing you to sink back into your chair.

"How do you think Viktor handles her?"

"He doesn't, she's just a handicap to him and he seems to have an embarrassing enough one as it is."

You inhaled. Someone will probably tell them to be quiet so as not to disturb the peace of the library. You hoped.

"Who's a handicap?"

Your eyes widened as you suddenly turned around. Viktor was standing there, facing them, both students suddenly looking very confused and ashamed.

"Viktor," one of them laughed nervously, "this was just a joke, she..."

But the student didn't have time to come up with an excuse. Viktor raised an eyebrow before speaking.

"She's an incredible person who no one can defeat," he informed them, the latter two lowering their eyes on their notes suddenly invested in their revisions. "Except me."

He punctuated his sentence, turning away from them and meeting your gaze. He seemed surprised, not expecting to find you there, at least not doing nothing when such needlessly cruel nonsense was uttered in your name.

Inevitably, of course, he moved towards you.

Except me.  The phrase made you roll your eyes for a moment before you tried to read information from your notes that hadn't needed reading for a long time. 

He sat down opposite you, keeping his hand on the pommel of his cane. "Your name seems to be on everyone's lips, Miss."

"What can I say," you sighed, "the obsession they have for me is an undying addiction."

However, Viktor didn't seem amused at all.

"Why do you let them say such things about you without lifting a finger?"

You bit the inside of your lip, feeling the pressure of his gaze on you as your eyes scanned uselessly over your revision sheets. 

"It's not the first time I've heard that kind of comment about me," you confirmed without much interest, "I'll survive it."

"So you spend most of your time worrying about the injustices other people experience but you push your own under a doormat?" Viktor summed up, not seeming genuinely thrilled at the idea.

"If I could push the injustice that Tyler is by his very existence off the face of this world, I'd be stepping on some rich blonde aristocrat every time I left and returned from home."

But Viktor still wasn't laughing, far from it. When your eyes finally met his, they were dark.

He sighed. "Are you trying to punish yourself for something by neglecting yourself so much?"

I'd like to forget more than anything else in the world. The thought was taking over your soul, eating away at you like a gangrene with an insatiable hunger.

"Of course," you chuckled, exaggerating a falsely happy tone.

"Stop this." His tone was firm.

"Stop what?" you questioned.

"Trying to make something funny out of this."

You frowned, raising an eyebrow. "What? You're not feeling in the mood for our ritual chit chats?"

"Do I look like I'm joking around right now?"

His eyes had the same gleam, carried the same weight as when he'd held you in place in your bed just a week ago. You almost gulped, speechless. Why was he reacting like that? Why was he worried about you?

You lowered your eyes, licking your lips as you returned to your notes.

"Fine," you admitted, dropping your sarcastic tone. "I guess I owe you for saving my life, anyway."

It didn't sound like it, but it was probably the closest you'd come to a ‘thank you’ for him so far. He seemed surprised that you were finally cooperating in the conversation, that you were at last sending him a very subliminal magic word.

His shoulders slumped, as if the idea of being angry with you was stupid.

"How are you feeling?" He finally asked.

"I'm no longer sick, if that's the question you meant to ask."

"It was, but also," he brought his cane up between his legs, clasping both hands on the pommel as he came to rest his chin on it, "I just wanted to know how you are doing."

Why are you doing this? You were thinking back over the last few weeks. His questions during the power cut, the attention he'd paid to you, staying awake all night by your side to make sure you were taking your medication properly, and now...

"Well," you swallowed, these thoughts unsettling you for a moment and sending a foreign warmth into your belly, "the exams are approaching and I think you've had quite the close look on their effect on me so... yeah."

He considered you, tilting his head to the side until his cheek was the one pressed against the back of his hands. He scanned you, his gaze sending a warm wind up your spine.

"You're still on the treatment, right?"

The horrible powder you had to mix in a glass at least twice a day wasn't the moment you were looking forward to most in your daily routine, but you did it anyway, under Sky's sharp eyes.

You remained silent, just to see how Viktor would react and whether, as he had dictated, he would make sure you stayed in bed no matter what.

Faced with your silence, he raised an eyebrow as he straightened up, finally wrinkling his forehead as he frowned.

"Right?" he repeated, almost menacingly.

"Relax." A nervous chuckle escaped you. "Yes, I'm taking it."

He sighed in relief at the news, while you shook your head in confusion.

"You're putting all this effort... for me? Why"

The phrase sounded alien in your mouth, as if you weren't worth the time or energy of such dedication. He gazed at you for a moment, his eyes roving over your index cards.

"You know why."

"Because you can't have your best rival go against you while she's sick?" you recited.

"Because I don't want to be your rival."

You found this answer profoundly absurd.

"What do you mean-" But he cut you off, annoyed.

"What do you want, hmm? To become Heimerdinger's assistant?"

Of course, you thought, but the way Viktor had said it sounded... easy, too easy. Or at least, too easy for you.

"I don't intend to be his assistant, and I'm going to tell you why."

He stood up, walking around the table until he was beside you and leaning in slightly.

"Because I've already been his assistant, and I stopped."

The words echoed inside you, like the cracking of something you thought was indestructible. Your lips parted in shock, watching him with huge eyes as he straightened up.

"In any case. I wanted to make sure that you'd be back in good shape." He began to walk towards the library exit, turning one last time to give you a playful look. "And now that I'm sure you'll be in full shape, I know I don't need to hold back, hm, rival?"

He turned away, heading for the big door, leaving you with a short-circuited brain. What did he mean by "already been"? What did he mean he had stopped? How had Viktor ever been Heimerdinger's assistant?

When the sentence finally reached your mind after a long travel from your ears, you gathered your things in a flash as the questions began to fly and you almost ran to catch up with him. You caught up with him in the corridors, under the astonished gazes of all the students.

"What?" you asked, out of breath from the sudden exertion and the gust of wind the news had knocked from your chest.

He turned to you, slightly surprised that you'd practically chased after him. He'd probably expected you to sit at your table, mulling things over until the questions got too much for you and you decided to come and see him after a day or two of mental torment.

"You've been Heimerdinger's assistant?" you repeated, adjusting the strap of your satchel on your shoulder.

He shrugged, turning away from you. "Yes."

Was he really just going to leave like that? Leaving you in agony for answers you wanted more than anything? No, it wasn't going to be like that.

You grabbed his wrist, much to his surprise, and pulled him with you into an empty adjoining corridor. Once you were out of sight, checking from one end of the corridor to the other to see if anyone was there, you finally regained his gaze.

There was something in his eyes, like a hint of something that kept his lips parted until they closed and his eyes lowered to your hand still gripping his wrist.

You let go, the heat of shame spreading across your neck and cheeks for a moment as you took a step away, crossing your arms over your chest.

"When were you his assistant?"

He leaned against the wall, sighing as he stared at you.

"You do remember Jayce's trial, don't you?"

How could you forget? You hadn't been present at the trial. Selene had invited you to come as it concerned your friend, but you were too afraid of the aristocratic eyes and the pressure they would put on you.

The story remained vague. Due to special circumstances that remained under the security and secrecy of the administration as to the extent of Jayce's activities, he had been allowed to stay at the academy.

"Yes."

"By then, I had already been Heimerdinger’s assistant for a month.."

You now were certain you'd never seen him before. It was just one month into your summer holidays, and you had gone to Zaun to find Eris. Your chances of running into him were almost nil, no doubt about it.

"How did you get to become his assistant?" you quizzed.

He shrugged, and that simple movement made you want to scream. "I suppose he must have liked my assiduity enough to take me on. That and the fact that, with his little legs, I was bound to walk at his pace," he joked.

You held your breath in your lungs for a moment, before releasing it. He didn't seem to be lying, at least about the only serious part of his sentence. He was undoubtedly the best choice for Heimerdinger in any case.

However, it seemed to you that it wasn't so much exasperation that you were feeling - you were trying to understand what the feeling was... a relief, but not really about the fact that the assistant's place was free, no, a relief about Viktor that you couldn't really place at the moment.

"Why did you stop?" There was no longer any frustration in your voice, just a new-found curiosity.

Viktor seemed taken aback by your new intonation, straightening slightly against the wall. "It didn't interest me anymore."

What could he have found that was better? The thought, at last, that Viktor's aim was not to be an assistant for the rest of his life, crept into your mind. Viktor seemed to pick up on it.

"See? I told you we didn't have the same goal."

You finally realised what that feeling of relief was: you didn't have to hate him any more. You no longer had a reason to try to outdo him, no longer had a valid justification for becoming number one again. But why was it such a relief? There was rarely anything more gratuitous than hatred in what you knew, and it should have been the same for Viktor, so why was it such a relief not to have to hate him any more?

Hating him served no purpose, no motivation. It was useless, and what do you do with useless things?

You took half a step towards him.

"The truce you suggested, have you come up with any clauses?"

His eyebrows rose, his eyes widened. He lifted himself off the wall.

"Um no-" he began, but you cut him off.

"Find some, and I'll consider them."

And with that, you took off, leaving Viktor speechless. 

You moved quickly, trying to get home as fast as possible. You were afraid that the street air, so pure and fresh, would wash away your conclusions and fuel a hatred that no longer had any reason to exist.

But you didn't go home straight away, making a diversion to Emeline's shop. As soon as you entered her shop, she didn't hesitate to jump on your neck and give you a hug.

"My little lamb," she enthused as she squeezed you until your ribs broke before cupping your face as if to examine you, "are you feeling better? You gave me quite a fright, you know! When your friend came to visit me and told me you were ill I nearly closed up shop to come and see you myself."

"Everything's fine," you laughed, squeezing her arms, "I've almost completely recovered!"

You'd decided that, after your chat with Viktor and all the effort you'd put into your revision, you deserved a little something to comfort you.

After a little chat with Emeline, she packed two pastries, one for you and one for Sky. Of course, she didn't forget to fill you up with an extra small packet of sweets that would have gone unsold during the day.

When you returned home, you greeted Sky with a smile and raised the two bags of treats to your head. She smiled in surprise.

"To what do we owe this feast?" she asked.

You shrugged. "Let's just say I've made resolutions for the better."

You'd been laughing all evening, stuffing your faces with these delicacies as you both took a well-deserved break from studying.

Your eyes turned to your tarot deck, you'd forgotten to draw any cards lately due to your revisions, so after wiping your hands full of sugar, you took the pack in hand.

“I see you pulling one almost every morning,” Sky remarked, lying on her stomach on your bed while you were cross-legged. “Why do you do that?”

You pulled out your cards in your hands. “To have a leitmotif to follow during the day. Although to be quite honest I don't follow their advice every time.”

She laughed softly, knowing by now your stubbornness like no other. “That doesn't surprise me at all.”

“Yeah well,” you smiled in turn as you shuffled the cards, ”some of them are not the best cards to wake up on to in the morning.”

So you cut your deck as usual, and looked at its underside. You raised your eyebrows.

“Just like this one.”

You showed Sky the card: Death.

She winced, her eyebrows furrowing as her mouth formed as if she were pronouncing the letter x.

“Okay, I get it,” she said, shaking her head. “Is it literal? I hope not, right?”

“Nah it's pretty safe.” You laughed. “The description of its meaning is in the little booklet.” You pointed to it with your chin, and Sky grabbed it, flipping through until she found the Death page.

“Transition. Underworld. Flux. Occultism. Letting go. Evolution requiring liberation. Metaphorical death.” She read. “Off to a great start apparently.”

You chuckled, observing the card as she continued reading. “Death moves across a field with a slow, steady march. A king lies dead. He represents the old systems of order cast aside. A bishop begs for mercy, a young girl turns away in fear and only a curious little girl looks up to greet death. She has not been taught to fear it.”

Your thumb passed over the little girl's drawing, your heart clenching. 

“A ship sails away, heedless of death's march. A sun rises between two towers to reflect resurrection and new beginnings. All endings give way to new possibilities. Transformation leads to renewal and growth.” She raised her eyebrows. “Ain't as bad as I thought it would be.”

“Yeah,” you considered, thinking back on your day and the fact that the cards were pointing you in the right direction, ”indeed.”

Exam week was over. You'd had absolutely no trouble at all with any of the exercises. All the subjects were in the bag and you were finishing virtually ahead of schedule in every exam room.

Today was the day of results. The teachers had spent the weekend correcting everything, and the results boards had finally been displayed.

You woke up feeling lighter than you thought you would. Since realizing that there was no longer any point in chasing Viktor to victory, you'd relaxed.

You went down the hall with Sky, passing the student mailboxes for a moment so you could check if either of you had received anything.

You opened the metal door to a single letter, sealed with a metallic black wax seal you knew all too well: Eris.

You took the key to your apartment, using its teeth to open the envelope and take out the letter, which you brought to your nose.

Her letters always smelled of the essential oils and herbs that constantly appeased you. Without further ado, you unfolded the paper and read its contents.

My sweet friend,

I thought you were a lost cause in friendship, but I guess this year the wheel is really turning on your side. I'm delighted, and I imagine the same goes for Selene. I'd love to meet her, that Sky, she sounds absolutely charming. I'm guessing, though, that the day with your Five of Wands must have been no picnic, especially if - from what I understand - Emperor Viktor is to blame. But I'm sure that the Immeasurable Grandeur of the Prestigious Piltover Academy will crown your success.

You giggled to yourself as your eyes passed over the elegant, forced curves that Eris had taken care to add in response to your own inky bows.

I miss you so much. You know how the days are here in Zaun; I open, sell and consult, and close in the evening before any trouble starts. I'm paid with golden trinkets, new flowers to dry and other plants from other regions. I have managed to get some new customers, though, and not the least important ones. Renata Glasc herself has been to my shop.

You'd already heard of Renata Glasc, an ambitious woman who was growing in influence on the streets of Zaun. She wasn't a Chem Baroness, but at the rate she was going, it looked like she was well on her way to becoming one.

In fact, it's through her that I'm hearing about worrying things here. Common for Zaun, you may say, but I can't help thinking the worst. I'll tell you about it myself when we meet. I'm planning to come here around December 23, so let's meet at the usual bridge at three o'clock. I'll be staying with you for a few days. I can't tell you more. But I've lit a candle for you, wishing you success and good health.

I look forward to seeing you again, my dearest trouble,

Eris.

What could she possibly be worried about? The situation was invariably complicated in Zaun, but what could it be that she was worried about?

You carefully tucked the letter into your bag, heading out to the shuttle stop.

“Not too stressed?” Sky asked.

You huffed, a cloud of warmth rising into the air. The cold had been gaining in intensity for over a week, and all the students at the academy had donned their scarves.

“No.” you replied, confident. “You?”

“A bit,” she admitted, her breath trembling slightly.

“Hey,” you pressed your shoulder against hers as she turned to face you, ”you've got this. I know you do.”

She nodded, smiling at you as the shuttle arrived. The journey was swift, some students over-excited at the prospect of their results, others apprehensive about what was to come.

As you arrived at the golden gates of the academy, you noticed that neither Viktor nor Jayce were in sight. Perhaps they had decided to go to the academy later?

The group of students walked up to the scoreboards, an army of others already huddled in front of them.

Sky went in search of her name, while you breathed in, waiting for other students to pass before you.

You didn't know what awaited you at the top of the board, which name would be at the head. Did it still matter? Yes, it probably did, or it didn't. Did you want it to matter? Probably not. But did your mind keep wandering? Endlessly.

What if Viktor was still number one - would you be disappointed? What if you were number one - would you be satisfied? And if neither he nor you were number one, would you be revolted?

“Look who it is!”

That voice alone was enough to make you frown, raise your eyebrows and lower your eyelids in boredom.

Tyler.

You turned to him for a moment, him seeming pleased that you responded to his voice as you rolled your eyes and sighed.

“What do you want, blondie? Searching for a new name on the boards to torment?”

He chuckled, stepping toward you. “You don't change a winning team, darling. Have you found your place at the very bottom of the ranking?”

It was your turn to chuckle, turning to face him. He had no idea about your academic results, it seemed. 

“Tyler you have as many neurons as you have eyes, and they're both fighting for any kind of connection.” You turned to the bulletin board, stepping forward slightly. “Do them mercy and close your eyelids for all eternity before we have to deal with a rain of fire and the horsemen and...”

But you didn't even finish your sentence, the words dying on your lips as your eyes came to rest on your name.

First place.

You were back in first place. Eyes and mouth wide open, you kept blinking to make sure your vision wasn't failing you. And the name underneath... 

Viktor.

Your scores were almost equal, yours barely beating him.

“Told you I wasn't going to hold back.”

You turned towards the voice, the tinkle you now knew too well of his cane echoing on the floor. He stood there, serene, a small smile on his face before his lips pressed into an inverted grin and his eyebrows raised.

“You fight well, Miss.”

You couldn't help it - you cracked a smile at him. And Viktor seemed astonished, as if he'd never seen such a thing happen. No stupid remark, no pettiness behind your drawn lips, just sincere amusement and joy.

“What the...” Tyler's voice died in his throat as he took in the bulletin boards, turning to you. “How did you...”

You turned to him, his sole presence now not even enough to ruin your happiness and relief. “As if you could reach me,” you replied with a triumphant smile, walking out of the crowd to join Viktor.

Once you got away from all this tumult, he nodded. “You got first,” he remarked, “congratulations.”

You observed him for a second, his posture reflecting a sort of disappointment. Was it from losing? Or was it from the fact you seemed so happy in your rivalry with him? You sighed, rolling your eyes.

“Quit it,” you pronounced with a smile, shaking your head slightly. “We share this crown, and you perfectly know that.”

He said nothing, just gazing at you for a moment. There was this gleam, the tickling of a smile ready to be born on his lips as the satisfaction that, maybe, these ink duels you were both fencing would wash away and let something different be born from them. 

He was apprehensive about saying something, but Jayce came towards you both.

“Ah, Jayce, exams went well?” You asked, knowing without a doubt that he didn't have to worry about his results.

“Oh yeah, perfect.” He nodded, pressing his lips into a thin line, his eyes darting from yours to Viktor's, surprised that you weren't quarrelling. “Say, hum... can I talk to you guys for a minute?” 

Viktor and you exchanged a confused look, before ultimately following him.

“A masquerade?” you repeated, as if the word had never grazed your lips before.

Jayce had brought you to a room in the Academy where you could all talk without hearing the multiple cries of students as to their result. And considering what he had to discuss with you, he'd done the right thing.

“It's this thing Mel is invited to,” he explained nervously. “All the people of high aristocracy will be there, counselors, lords and ladies... Please, can you both accompany me to it?”

“As your dance partners?” joked Viktor, frowning.

“No, Mel's already my partner. But, she said that there would be no opposition for you both to come as well. You're the,” he seemed to search for words for a moment, ”croom dé la cram?”

“Crême de la crême?” you suggested.

He pointed at you, glad you understood. “Yeah, that. La crême de la crême of the Academy. Such prestigious students as the both of you sharing the top of the board deserve to be in such an event.”

“So you want us,” you pointed repeatedly between Viktor and yourself, ”to come to this event because you're too nervous to go there by yourself?”

The interested party scratched the back of his neck, sniffling before looking at you both with puppy-dog eyes. “Yeah?”

“Aren't you supposed to have a partner to come to a masquerade?” Interrogated Viktor.

“I thought you two could... go together?”

You chuckled, your mouth hanging open. You exchanged a bewildered look with Viktor, who didn't seem to be too upset by the concept.

“You're joking, right?” you asked.

“Please just-” he didn't finish his sentence, “put your bickering aside for one evening. You don't even have to show up together if it suits you better.”

“I don't see any problems with it,” Viktor shrugged, indifferent. “When is it?”

"Tomorrow night."

“Tomorrow night?” You exclaimed. “Jayce, if it's a society gala, I've got nothing to wear.”

He reached into his own wallet, pulled out some bills and handed them to you.

“Here, I'm sure you'll find something convenient with this.”

“Jayce,” you remarked, looking at the fresh bills, “what the hell.”

“This is not much for you to get a decent gown for the gala. Keep the rest, if there is any, to get some fancy accessories.” He grabbed your hand, placing the cash in it. “Truly, this is the least I can do.”

You knew Jayce's patrons were the Kiramman’s, but to have money to give away like this? Since when was that the case?

“Vik, I think it's time for us to go.” Jayce finally remarked before leaving the room, leaving the two of you.

You both stayed in silence for a moment, both digesting the information that had just been given to you.

“What a way to celebrate your victory,” Viktor finally sighed.

“I've seen worse celebrations than a masquerade,” you remarked, observing the tickets for a moment before folding them up, “but I think I've had better experiences than being in a room with nobility sipping glasses of champagne with petty innuendo in every exchange.”

He huffed in turn. “I suppose the next area in which we must excel in no time is the art of conversation in high society. Although, considering our usual conversation,” he leaned his head to the side with a smirk, "we'll fit right in."

“How exciting,” you raised your eyebrows sarcastically, letting silence take its rule back on the room before you finally decided to break it. ”Guess I better go and find myself something to wear. See you tomorrow, Viktor.” 

“Wait,” he called to you, seeming hesitant about what he was going to suggest, ”would you like us to get together first and go? Or...”

“Let's meet directly at the party,” you assured him.

He nodded, his lips pressing in a thin line as you turned away. “Oh and...” you turned back to him at his words, his eyes piercing. “Don't forget the mask.”

You nodded, leaving the room.

You had today and tomorrow to find an outfit, and get used to the fact that Viktor was no longer a threat to be eliminated. Easier said than done. 

But still… What a way to celebrate a rebirth.

✦﹒ previous chapter ✦﹒ next chapter

[starkeynation]

I love you, I’m sorry

A letter from reader to Rafe

Content: Angst, like PURE sad, the lamp looks weird, based on the song I love you, I’m sorry by Gracie Abrams (may or may not be accurate)

A/N: about that cliffhanger and happy ending, I changed my mind… also ignore any writing mistakes if there’s any and this was kinda rushed so I hope it still turns out good

Masterlist

dividers from @anitalenia

Rafe,

It is Saturday night. I should be out doing something, partying or whatever to enjoy myself, yet here i am, pen in hand, finding myself writing to you again. I know this letter will never reach you- it’ll end up crumpled at the bottom of my drawer or burned to ashes. Still, I can’t seem to stop myself.

It has been exactly two august ago since everything fell apart. I remember the way I laid it all out, raw, I wanted to be real, hoping that honesty would mend us. We weren’t perfect. Hell, we were far from it. We fought like fire and gasoline, burning everything we touched. Jealousy leads us to mistrust each other but even then, I didn’t think it would end the way it did. I never thought that fight would be the last..the final, devastating blow before you ghosted me and blocked me everywhere.

I swear it wasn’t my intention to break up with you, I thought by exposing the cracks, we could patch them together. Instead, the truth just ended up pushing you away. When you drove off in your Benz and left me standing at my gate, it felt like everything had stopped. The time, the world, my heart…everything froze. I couldn’t breathe. I wanted to scream, I wanted to stop you, beg you to stay, to tell you that we could still save us but you didn’t look back, and i was too late.

Now, i watch you from a distance as you become successful, helping your dad doing business, running Cameron’s development like you were born to do it. I heard your name whispered in admiration at the club where I work, how you charm people the way you trained for. And you know what? I’m so so proud of you Rafe. I always knew you had it in you. I’ll be rooting for you always, even from the shadows.

Maybe two summers from now we’ll be talking again at some point, exchange smiles, our lives untangled and we’re cool again. I can picture you’ll be in your family’s jet, travelling, and me, on my boat moving on with our own lives. By then, i hope..im actually ready to move on. I know you’ve already moved on- I mean, why wouldn’t you? Still, there’s part of me wish that you wouldn’t yet, and maybe, just maybe, you would take me back.

But that’s just selfish isn’t it? I was selfish when we were together too. I made everything about me, i was inconsiderate, I turn something small into raging battles. I didn’t listen, didn’t see you for who you were. I’m ashamed of the person I was, of the mistakes I made. After everything i did, I’m surprised you haven’t send someone to kill me yet.

Lately I find myself sitting on the porch, watching sunsets like we used to, with a glass of something strong in my hand. I laugh at myself, at the crash I made, because what else can I do? It’s a twisted kind of coping—laughing at my own heartbreak. It doesn’t feel real and it’s really hard to let go but i guess that’s just the way life goes.

I know i was a dick, Rafe. I had too many flaws to count but as sick as it sounds, I loved you first. You’ll always be my first love. You were the best and the worst thing that ever happened to me, a storm that left me shattered but alive. Your love had impact me deeply, it is carved in my soul. No matter where we are, i want you to know that I’ll carry the past and the weight of my mistakes with me. Trust me, it will always, haunt me.

I regret every second for not treating you well, for not being the person you needed. Lastly, i want you to know that I still, truly, deeply, love you, I’m sorry.

*Ding* you heard the bell rings. You rush downstairs to answer the door.

“Pizza delivery”, says the delivery boy standing in front of you. You almost forgot you ordered one, an hour ago. You take your prepaid alfredo chicken pizza and thank him. It was Rafe’s favourite pizza, you’re not sure if it’s still his favourite though. After shutting the door, you walk to your kitchen.

Just two seconds later, *ding* the bell rings again. Did the delivery boy forget anything? You thought.

You open the door, “yes-“ you pause. You couldn’t believe it, standing right in front of you,

“Topper?”

“Topper what are you doing here?” you ask, your voice laced with confusion.

He then steps aside and reveals a man behind him, lying on the steps of your porch- a man whose silhouette you’d recognize anywhere. “Rafe,” you whisper.

“Shit I’m sorry to bother you but this dumbass got into an accident for driving while he’s high,” Topper blurts out, panickly.

Your brow furrowing and your confusion deepens. You walk closer to Rafe and spot the blood dripping from his head, “Accident? What? Then why do you bring him here instead of the hospital?” You ask, your voice sharp, slicing through the chaos of the moment.

“He won’t let me. He insisted I bring him here to see you,” Topper explains.

“Y/n,” Rafe speaks up, his voice low and strained.

Your heart skips a beat. It’s like the universe has stopped spinning again. This is the first time you hear him calling your name after two whole years.

“Hey Rafe, you’re bleeding,” you say, your voice mix with feelings.

“I’m fine,” he says, giving a soft, disarming smile while trying to sit up.

You instruct Topper to go find some cloth to stop the bleeding. As he dissapears, you sit on your knees facing to Rafe, “Rafe, what happened? Why are you here?” you ask, still have no clue of what’s going on here.

“I wanted to see you,” he replies, putting on that damn smile again, the one that’s always managed to unravel you. “I miss you, y/n.”

Your face goes pale, your eyes widens, the words hang in the hair, heavy and unexpected. “Rafe, you’re drunk,” you accuse, trying to make sense of what’s happening right now.

“No, I’m not, i swear I’m very conscious right now,” he insists, his voice firm. You’re still not sure if he’s telling the truth or not. “I really miss you, y/n,” he continues, his voice low but still clear for you to hear it.

Your heart aches, torn between disbelief and the undeniable pull of his words. “How hard did you hit your head? God, you’re still bleeding. We need to see a doctor,” you say, trying to stand up, but he grabs your hand, pulling you back down.

“Stop it, I’m fine i swear…this is nothing,” he says waving off the concern. Just then, Topper returns with a towel in his hand. He hands the towel to you and says, “dude, are you sure you’re okay? When i saw your car there were smokes everywhere. Looks like you hit that tree pretty hard,” his voice fill with concern.

“I’m fine Top, just go. I need to talk to y/n,” Rafe says with a dismissive wave. Topper hesitates, he looks at you for confirmation as if you’re the one in charge here. You nod at him, signalling an approval, “s’okay Top i can handle this.”

“Okay, just call me if anything happens,” he says. “Thank you,” you mutter softly to Topper as he’s leaving towards his car.

With Topper gone, you shift your focus back to Rafe. You take the towel and start dabbing on the blood on his forehead, “we still need to get this stitched up,” you say. Rafe then grabs your wrist, his grip firm but not forceful, “look at me,” he demands.

You look at him straight in the eyes, drowning in his blue eyes. It’s overwhelming- staring at the man that you love but no longer yours.

“I do mean what i said, i miss you y/n and i wanted to see you,” he says, his tone steady and sure.

“But why now?” You ask, your voice breaking under the weight of the question.

“Sar..Sarah told me tonight that you’ve been writing letters about me. She found them stashed under your bed,” he says, hesitantly.

Your stomach drops and you shake your head in disbelief, “God…i knew it there was something wrong. She was acting so weird when she left this morning,” you mutter.

“So it’s true? You’ve been writing about me?”

Your face is turning red, you’re struggling to find the words. “I- yes…I’ve been writing letters. Pretending like I’m gonna send it to you but i never do,” you stutter.

“Why didn’t you just send them?” He presses, his voice low, almost pleading.

“You know why Rafe…you’ve moved on. You blocked me few months after we broke up. You’re thriving now with your job, you got your whole life together, and I- I was the reason why we broke up. I can’t just crawl my way back into your life like nothing happened,” you shatter, your voice breaking as you’re struggling to control your tears.

Rafe shakes his head. He brushes his thumb over your knuckles and kisses it. “You’re wrong y/n, you’re absolutely wrong. I’ve been doing nothing over the past two years except than trying to forget about you. That’s why I’ve been doing all these jobs, thinking it could distract me, but no,” he shakes his head again. “Nothing could make me stop thinking about you.”

His confession leaves you breathless, your tears streaming down your face as he continues. “About the blocking and disappearing, I’m really sorry, I was a coward. The truth is, that day i came to your house to apologize. Then, as I stood outside, i saw you were laughing with jj through your window. I knew you guys were not together cause after jj left, I may or may not have confronted him…” he then mouthed sorry. “But then, I remember the way you looked so happy when you’re with him. At that time, I knew I had to let you go cause you deserve someone better and you deserve to be happy so that’s why I blocked you..as if that makes any difference.”

You idiot,” you scoff. “I never wanted anyone else, only you Rafe, only you. You’re the only one who could truly make me happy.”

His eyes glisten, his smile soft and hesitant. “Please forgive me y/n, I swear I’m a better person now and I love- I love you, so much. I still do.”

You reach up, caress his cheek and pull him in for a kiss. “I love you too Rafe,” you whisper. He cups your face and returns the kiss. The kiss is passionate, slow and tender. His lip is so soft and only god knows how much you miss this. The world fades around you, leaving only the two of you, two broken pieces finding their way back to each other.

You pull away from his face and let out a giggle. “Why are you laughing?” He asks, can’t help but let out a soft giggle too.

“Before you came I was actually writing another letter for you,” you admit, a shy smile appears on your face.

“Oh really? Tell me about it baby,” he smirks. Your smile widens at the sound of the nickname that rolls out from his mouth. “Mm I miss that. You, calling me baby. Anyways, it’s in my room, wanna come in?” You ask.

He shakes his head, pulling you closer as he leans back against the stairs railing. “Hmm in a bit sweetheart, you can tell me here while we stargaze. I missed your porch- and mostly you, of course,” he replies with a faint smile.

So you do. You talk to him about the letter while your head rest on his shoulder and your fingers intertwined. “Lastly I wrote, I love you, I’m sorry,” you say, explaining the last content of the letter. But then, you realise he has gone quiet. His stillness unsettling. You glance up to him, “Rafe?” He’s not responding. You check his pulse but there is none. Panic sets in as you shake him, calling his name.

“Rafe”

“Rafe, wake up”

“Wake up!”

“Wake up!”

“Y/n”

“Y/n”

“Y/n, wake up”

You gasp, your heart is pounding like a drum. You’re sweating all over your body as reality crashes down. It was a nightmare.

“Hey..baby you okay?” You turn your head to your right and realise it’s Rafe. He’s okay, he’s alive and he’s sitting on the bed next to you. Relief floods through you like a tidal wave.

“Is it the nightmare again?” He asks. You nod, signalling him that he’s right.

“It’s okay baby I got you. Here, come back to sleep,” he says, gently pulling you into his arms. You smile and cuddle him, clinging to the illusion of safety his embrace provides. You close your eyes again trying to fall back to sleep till your alarm suddenly rings.

You wake up with a tear running down your cheek. You hit the snooze button and realise that was a dream and this time, it’s the true reality. You look to the other side of your bed, it’s empty. It always has been for quite a while now. The truth is, that night after Rafe collapsed, you called for an ambulance. On the way to the hospital, they try everything to make his heart beat again, but nothing works. It was too late. He had lost too many blood before that you weren’t aware of and that same night, Rafe had died in your arms.

It’s been 3 years since the tragic. You keep having the same dream almost every night. Part of you is grateful that you and Rafe had ended in good terms but another part of you knows that the truth is you’ll never get the chance to redeem yourself and be a better partner. There’s nothing remaining other than the memories that will haunt you forever.

Rafe, if you’re hearing this, I love you, I’m sorry.

Like and reblog if you want to kys after reading this😇☺️

[chanelnumbermine]

2024 f2 boys when someone else compliments you | f2 grid picks x gn!reader

since u liked the previous part so much, i decided to write a little more and added franquito! he has a special place in my heart after this season (mentally i’m still in imola sprint). i’m very open to learn about more drivers and add them to the list! have a nice read!

pairing(s): ollie bearman x gn!reader, kimi antonelli x gn!reader, zane maloney x gn!reader, paul aron x gn!reader, pepe marti x gn!reader, luke browning x gn!reader, franco colapinto x gn!reader;

warning(s): itty bitty possessive behaviour, mostly cuteness!!

ollie bearman | prema —> haas f1

squeezes your hand and smiled politely

"thank you. they really do light up every room."

he says dryly and tries to shrug off this weird feeling in his chest

becomes a little stiff and after a while he asks

“do random people compliment you like that often?”

you shrug and smirk, seeing he’s a little jealous

“they were right, you look stunning. i should say that more often”

andrea kimi antonelli | prema —> mercedes amg pertronas

he’s already a little flustered because you came over to see his family

you click with them instantly

"uh, thanks mom. i say it every day."

to him you’re the sweetest prettiest person ever and he sometimes forgets that other people can also see that

it’s just hard to remember about the whole world when he’s in your presence

you’re his and he’s fully yours, and he’ll spend the rest of the day clinging to you

he’s nott that good with words, but very good at making you feel loved

paul aron | hitech —> bwt alpine reserve driver

i bet it was one of your friends who complimented you

and paul? tries to outdo the other person with compliments

"you're not just radiant, darling, you look literally ethereal. you know, your eyes ere like the moon. so big and shiny."

thinks he's smooth

he's not

but he's adorable as hell, grinning like and idiot and spewing nonsense just to make you laugh

you'd have to kiss him to shut him up

“i was supposed to make you blush, not the other way around…”

zane maloney | rodin —> formula e

awkward as hell

could be even a little insecure

why would anyone dare compliment you? do they think they have a chance with you?

he tries not to show it, but is not good at it

"aww, are you pouting?" you teased him

he chuckled and scratched the back of his neck nervously

"what, me? you're seeing things"

please reassure him!! he’s the sweetest bunny

pepe marti | campos, red bull academy

"yeah, of course my baby looks beautiful tonight."

goes full on protective mode

could become sarcastic, maybe even passive-aggressive

"i knew this day would come. i have to fend off other admirers."

you laugh and poke his arm

"must be so hard having a beautiful partner, huh?"

huffs playfully and kisses your forehead

luke browning | hitech —> f2

he was joking around with his friends when one of them made an innocent cute comment about your looks

“i know, right? they make me look better just standing next to me”

tries to divert the attention from you

on the outside he seems quite normal, but inside he’s seething with jealousy

like, why would anyone feel the need to point out the obvious???

sneaks his arm around your waist

peppers your face with kisses when you have a little time alone

franco colapinto | mp —> williams racing

whatever the circumstances, he goes into full yapping mode

franco takes seizes every opportunity to brag about who he managed to pull

"right!! you see, mom, they bake the best cookies. one time, when we were in madrid, we ate those cinnamon buns i like so much and..."

he just wants everyone to know you're the best person he's ever had the privilege to meet

he wants to share all the best memories with his family! and has no filter

"no, sis, we weren’t drunk that much… oh, you’re totally right amor, we were, sorry”

the compliments are flowing from both sides, its very natural and franqui doesn’t get worked up at all

masterlist

[paradoxcase]

So you know how there are all these ancient Roman sources about how the Carthaginians sacrificed babies? And how, for a long time, people believed that this had to be some kind of extreme racist slander on the part of the Romans because they hated Carthage? Well, it turns out that we have actually uncovered graveyards full of babies and small children in that part of the world that seem to be tied to areas used for ritual sacrifice, so, it might be true, actually. Also, the way the Romans wrote about this was not the way you would think someone would write about people they hated sacrificing babies. They weren't saying "My god, this is heinous and evil! This is why Carthage must be destroyed!" They were saying stuff like "Well, this is kind of strange. It doesn't seem very practical. I don't get it." And this was because they were so used to the idea of babies dying that some extra babies being killed didn't seem that bad. If 48% of your babies die no matter how well you care for them, you can't afford to get as attached to them as we get to our babies, you would be in a constant state of unending grief. You would kind of have to dehumanize babies a bit just in order to survive and live your life. The fact that we can fully humanize babies, and name them and buy them things before they are even born, and can afford to fully love them before they get to some minimum age that means they're probably likely to survive to adulthood is all a privilege of our super low infant mortality rate.

Remember, history was awful. Never trust the romantics.

[misctf]

Hey! I just bought this new VR game system and it says not to try it on alone. What the fuck are they talking about? And why are all the games on the online store so adult centered? Whatever, let's try it, wait what is happening ...

“Dude, you’re not supposed to use Hive X alone.” Some guy messages you in the chatroom, “Did you not see the warnings?”

“Or the reviews?” Another user asks, “It’s best for couples to use it. Together.”  

Your eyes narrow, “I didn’t pay all this money not to use it.” You reply, “I’ll let you know how it is.” You look down at the black box.

You always appreciated your friends in the gaming community. But the gaming community was quite divided when Hive X hit the stores. A new VR gaming system that seemed to offer a futuristic level of immersion. You didn’t really have time to read reviews, but you weren’t going to miss out on this opportunity.

“Well, here it goes.” You mumble.

You slowly remove the VR headset from the box, followed by two wrist and ankle cuffs. You can’t help but chuckle when you remove what looks like a waist trainer.

“What the fuck?” You whisper as you read the instructions.

Slowly, you remove your clothes until you’re completely naked. Apparently, this would help facilitate the full immersive experience. And as you stand in the center of your room, you slowly slip on the ankle cuffs, then the wrist cuffs, and finally the waist trainer. You pick up the headset, which looks like that of a motorcycle helmet, and with a deep breath, place it over your head. Initially, all you see is inky blackness. But as it turns on, the world around you comes alive. You wince as the ankle, waist, and wrist pads dig into your skin and warm up. And suddenly, you’re standing in what can only be described as a hotel.

“Oh wow.” You whisper as you look around, seeing others walking around the hotel. Heading to different rooms. You take a deep breath and smell a muskiness mixed with oak wood. The warmth of a glowing fire dancing in the hotel lobby. It’s warm, and a sense of peace fills you, “Oh shit!” You realize that you’re naked and quickly go to cover yourself.

Apparently, others heard you and look over. Some chuckle, some give you concerned looks. And you realize that many of them are naked too. Blushing, you quickly walk down a hallway, awkwardly bumping into and maneuvering around other couples.

“Why the fuck is everyone naked?” You mumble, “And why...” Your eyes widen and you gasp when you turn a corner and enter a large room.

There had to be hundreds of men and women in the midst of a giant orgy. All moaning and engaging in lewd acts. You avert your eyes and back away, heading back the way you came. Your face beet red and dick twitching uncomfortably.

“I should’ve read the reviews.” You mumble, realizing this is some kind of virtual sex toy, “Okay, I’m done. The guys will get a kick out of this.”

“What’s wrong?” You jump at the monotone voice behind you, “So sorry. I’m NPC 436.” A fully clothed, relatively plain individual says, “I am designed to tailor your experience and enhance customer satisfaction.”

“Yeah, I...” You cover your junk, “This isn’t my thing... I...”

“We have many experiences designed for our users.” It continues, “Usually, partners enter the Hive due to enhanced physical sensations. It appears...”

“Yeah, I’m alone.” The NPC nods.

“Based on your preferences and attitudes, we have determined an ideal experience.”

“Wha... how?”

“The VR headset you utilize is a two-way interface with your mind.” It says simply, “Please follow me.”

Part of you wants to say no and write this off as one of your biggest failed gaming experiences. But another part of you is curious. You nod and follow NPC 436 as it leads you to one of the hotel rooms. You stop outside Room 194 and NPC 436 opens the door, beckoning inside.

“Please enjoy.” It says, “Customer satisfaction is a primary objective.” It continues.

You nod as the door closes behind you and you enter a standard hotel suite. A warm fire place cackling and the smell of oak filling your nostrils. You feel your body start to relax and your thoughts slow. Absentmindedly, you stroke your hardening cock. The sound of the shower in the other room brings you back to reality and you slowly walk over. When you enter, your eyes widen.

“Hey there.” The man says, as he turns and smirks at you, “Fuck you’re cute.”

You feel your heart beating, your cock aching with need. And as he approaches you, you step forward. Your hands moving to feel his massive pecs. He grins as he guides your hand to his dick and you shudder at the feeling of his thick manhood in your hand.

“Good boy.” He moans, “I’m NPC 251.” He continues as you continue to feel his body, “Fuck... you’re needy.”

Things seem to move quickly. He’s pressed you up against the wall of the shower, your lips locked, your tongues doing battle. You can feel his rough hands roam your body, as yours continue to stroke his dick. And suddenly you’re on your knees as he fucks your face- you deepthroating him like a pro. He lets out a moan as he finishes and you shudder as you’re filled with his seed.

“Fuck.” He whispers.

You stumble to your feet, quivering from the pleasure. And before you can say another word, you moan as your cock hardens against. A wave of horniness filling your mind. A desire for more filling your every thought.

“Th-this isn’t...” You whisper. How was your body already craving another round? What was this VR device doing to you? “I... I...” NPC 251 is stroking his dick, grinning down at you.

“Additional interaction requires in game purchase.” Your heart sinks, “Would you like to initiate NPC trial period?” NPC 251 asks, “This will unlock additional sessions with any other NPC.”

You raise an eyebrow, trying to comprehend what NPC 251 means. But your aching cock is too distracting. You bite your lip. NPC trial period? What did that even mean? What would it...? But NPC 251... god you wanted to do that again. You wanted...

“Trial period. Please.” You moan.

A searing pain knocks you off your feet. You can feel it in your ankles, hands, and waist. And the feeling seems to be moving along your arms, legs, and torso. You cry out and look up at NPC 251 in terror, gripping your head as you develop a significant headache.  

“Digitalization process is taking place.” It says, “Your physical body is being fully converted into the Hive.”

Before you can say another word, a different feeling fills you. You feel like you’re being inflated. Each muscle contracting and bloating. Expanding and growing at a terrifying rate. You try to push yourself up and immediately fall over. Unfamiliar with your new size and bulk as your musculature takes on that of an athlete. You wince as your body hairs burns away and leaves you smooth and hairless. Your muscles toned and bulky. The body of a porn star.

“Optimization of user traits allows for seamless integration for company standards.” It continues, “Your prior traits will be saved in the mainframe.”

You gasp as you look at yourself, hands roaming over your impressive musculature. You moan in a far deeper voice as your ass pulses with need. And you look up desperately at NPC 251, knowing it could give you what your new body craved.

“Initiating directives.”

Your jaw goes slack and your eyes dim as words and numbers flash in front of your eyes. You can barely keep up with the various components as you’re given directions and commands. Your numb mind filling with them- a sense of devout obedience driving you.

“I will serve. I will ensure customer satisfaction.” You drone on, “Serving is my pleasure. Being used is my pleasure.” For a brief moment, you feel fear. Part of you coming to realize what your life is about to become. But fear is not part of your programing, “I am NPC 803.” You say.

NPC 803 was quickly led away to a new room. An empty room. One for NPC 803 and the services it would provide. Time wasn’t a concern for NPC 803, nor were any thoughts about when it would get to return to its old life. And as NPC 803 waiting for someone, it laid in bed. Dildo in its ass. Moaning from wave after wave of pleasure. But it wasn’t enough. All it wanted was to provide customers with the best experience possible. And as another man was led to your room, also without a partner, you couldn’t help but smile. After the time you were gonna give him, you just knew you’d have another NPC joining your team.

[mejaemin]

nonchalant- jeon wonwoo

wc: 0.9k

summary: clingy wonu /ᐠ - ˕ -マ

warnings: streamer!wonu, writer!reader, fluff, not proofread !!!

an: i can think of so many ways to make a pt.2 to this… will i? nope!

───── ⋆⋅ ⊹ ⁺ 𐔌 ᩧ ຼ ͡ ৯ ♡໒⁀ ᩧຼ ꒱ིྀ ⁺ ⊹ ⋅⋆ ─────

the letters on your laptop’s keyboard are surely to start fading any time soon, but it’s worth it. especially right now. there’s yet to be a single time where you’ve felt this much inspiration in your entire career, so you refuse to let this go to waste. your eyes flicker to the notebook sitting next to you, information on the paper translating in your mind and being typed out into coherent sentences on the document.

you’re really proud of what you’ve written so far. you had your boyfriend read your unorganized thoughts you had set out for the plot and what not, and he thinks it’s good too. once your brain felt ready to start writing the real thing, your fingers were flying. you slipped your headphones on, essentially blocking out the entire world as you worked. you started when it was still light out, and you’ve only gotten up to use the bathroom, really. it’s dark now, and although he’s not working quite as hard, you can still sense your boyfriend moving around the house, making commentary as he pre records gaming content.

he’s left you alone so far. he’s not the type to nag you too much about taking care of yourself, especially when he’s already learnt his lesson about interrupting you when you have one of these moments of inspiration. not to mention he has times like this too, even if it was for something like a long term livestream. still, he treats you how he would want to be treated in the same situation. by that he means undisturbed… with the occasional interruption, of course. he likes to have his game time but if he isn’t filming he still wants to be with you.

your phone is on do not disturb, keeping wonwoo’s obnoxious friends and their instagram reel notifications from disturbing your work, so when a message notification dings through your headphones you know who it is.

won🖤: Are you almost done yet?

won🖤: I’ve finished recording.

you: no, sorry love :( i still have some left in me.

you: just a little more, okay?

won🖤: Just a little more. I try not to be that guy, but you really should stop soon. Eat something

you reacted with 👍

setting your phone down, you crack your knuckles with a sigh. you were reaching the end of your inspiration spark, so you really wanted to rush to get whatever you could in. it’s extremely rare that this happens, and you couldn’t stress it enough. you’ve got deadlines to meet, and for this to happen to you was literally perfect. you’re basically set, and might even be able to take a day off tomorrow.

you’ve gotten back onto your groove, putting the music on high while you work. you’re typing word after word, paragraph after paragraph flawlessly. everything you’ve been mapping out for weeks is finally coming to fruition, and it’s doing so perfectly. you’re so zoned in that you don’t notice when wonwoo comes in, only taking note of his presence when the weight shifts on the bed and his head lands on your shoulder.

you pause, pulling the headphones off your head. “do you need something?” you ask, hand instinctively coming to brush through his hair.

he looks up at you, and you’re sure he doesn’t notice the way he’s pouting. it’s rare that he’d be like that voluntarily. “how far are you? you’re almost done?”

“mm, i don’t think so.. sorry. i really need to make the most of this or else i’ll never get this finished.” you kiss the top of his head, and as soon as you put your hand back towards the keyboard he grabs it.

“you’ve been sitting here all day.”

“yeah, i noticed. but i’ll do just a little more, ‘kay?” you kiss his crown and return to work.

you finish the second to last plot point you had mapped out, and now you’re just revising what you done so far. even by your own standards you’ve done enough, and since wonwoo is indirectly begging you to spend time with him (in his own way) by clinging to your side, you suppose you can stop for now. it hasn’t even been that long and you can see him looking from his phone to you every three seconds. it’s cute really, how he’s trying so hard to be nonchalant about it when he wants to spend time with you so bad. every time he wants your attention, he sort of hovers around you and stares at you until you give it to him. he’ll never say it out loud, but he’s definitely going to be obvious about it in other ways.

you shut your computer and set it on the night stand, turning towards him fully. the corners of wonwoo’s mouth twitch as he tried to hold back his smile, but you know he’s happy that he’s won.

“you’re done now? are you gonna go back to work, or are you really done?” he asks, sitting up and readjusting his glasses.

you giggle at his cuteness, kissing his cheek. “yes, nonu. you’ve got my full, undivided attention now, ‘kay?”

he’s already up before you are, rambling about how excited he is to spend the rest of the night with you, even if it’s already late. he’s walking into the kitchen to make ramen for you, talking about eating it together while watching something, and then stopping to ponder about what to do after. you trail behind him, a smile on your face. your nonchalant, black cat boyfriend who uses very few words will throw it all out the window if it means getting your attention and keeping it for a good moment.

───── ⋆⋅ ⊹ ⁺ 𐔌 ᩧ ຼ ͡ ৯ ♡໒⁀ ᩧຼ ꒱ིྀ ⁺ ⊹ ⋅⋆ ─────

[wisecura]

Sweeter (NSFW)

SatoSugu x f!Reader p.2 - 4k (all for the fuckin' smut)

summary: THE PWP FOR: entering high school only to be met with the two hottest strongest sorcerers of your generation was not something you were prepared for. so, what happens when they take a strange liking to their cute, sheltered underclassman?

an: man I'm getting some good practice for writing smut. I hope it's as coherent as my tired brain thought it was. loosely proofread, so please enjoy-

MINORS DNI AFTER HERE

warnings: do not read if you are sensitive to dubcon, or any kind of dark fic topics, small age gap (not even mentioned, they're past high school), arranged marriage, poly relationship, possessive undertones, manipulative undertones, manipulative, some gaslighting, Dom-Suguru, pussydrunk, creampie cleanup, breeding kink, virgin reader that somehow knows how to deepthroat a large cock (with minimal instructions-first try!), if they sound mean-i'm sorry, immature (sheltered) reader,

did you want to read it again?

The wedding was straight out of a fairytale, bathed in the rich, traditional colors that only added to the day’s dreamlike quality.

There he was—Satoru, the man you were about to call your husband.

Each time you glanced at him, dressed sharply, standing poised and perfect, it took your breath away. Marrying the most sought-after bachelor around, a man wrapped in prestige, wealth, and unmatched power and strength, felt crazy. The only word to describe it was surreal. 

Satoru gave your hand a reassuring squeeze as they announced your union. The kiss–though he'd kissed you plenty of times before, was now on the lips. A little deeper, holding the back of your head, keeping you close, preventing you from pulling away too quickly, leaving you breathless.  

During the reception, amidst the laughter and clinking glasses, you caught snippets of conversation from Satoru’s relatives, their voices low, gazing at you with a gleam in their eyes. One topic staying constant on their tongues: producing an heir.

It was a layer of expectation that loomed large, suddenly making your new reality even more daunting than you had anticipated.

As the night drew to a close and the estate began to quiet down, the weight of what was expected in your marriage truly settled in. Would Satoru really expect... that... so soon?

The thought of... consummation, when you hadn't even been dating, churned in your stomach as you hesitantly approached his, now your bedroom door. All your belongings were already here, making this vast place your new home, but this final step—something you felt completely unprepared for—loomed large.

With a shaky breath, you knocked gently on the door. The sound echoed slightly in the still hallway, perfectly in tune with the rapid beating of your heart. When the door finally swung open, Satoru loomed above you, his silhouette framed by the soft light spilling from the room, haloing him in an almost ethereal glow.

"You came," he remarked, a hint of surprise coloring his voice as if he hadn't fully expected you to follow through. You stood awkwardly a the door, feeling a little shy. Where you not supposed to-

"Come on," his hand reaching out to grasp your arm, pulling you into the room with a gentle tug that caused you to stumble slightly. As you regained your balance, your eyes quickly scanned the room.

It was strikingly sterile, devoid of personal touches, which made it feel less like a bedroom and more like an impersonal guest room. You assumed your belongings had already been neatly stored away in the closet. However, what really caught your attention wasn’t the room’s lack of personality but rather what—or rather, who—was on the large king-sized bed.

Suguru was there, lounging casually as if his presence in this intimate setting was the most natural thing in the world, the sight throwing you off.

"S-Suguru?" Your voice wavered, tinged with disbelief. He hadn't been at the wedding celebrations, and it had been months since you'd last seen him. Overcome with a mix of surprise and relief, you quickly crossed the room and threw yourself onto his lap, wrapping him in a tight hug.

"Even I didn't get this reaction," Satoru muttered from behind you, his tone a mix of amusement and mock offense.

Suguru's response was a deep, resonant chuckle that vibrated through his chest, warming you with its familiarity. The position was intimate, but you'd sat on their laps plenty of times before.

Obviously nothing would happen tonight if he was here. 

"It's been a while, pretty girl," Suguru murmured, his hand gently caressing your face and tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. You leaned into his touch, realizing just how much you had missed his presence.

"Heard you got married while I was gone," his voice low and teasing.

You laughed, the sound muffled against his chest as you nuzzled closer, reveling in the comfort his presence provided. The familiarity of his scent and the steady beat of his heart soothing your nerves. 

"Ok, now I'm starting to get jealous," Satoru's voice came from behind you. You heard his footsteps as he approached, and you felt the bed give way under his weight, his body pressed against your back, effectively sandwiching you between the two of them.

Suguru's hand reached over your shoulder, affectionately patting Satoru on the head.

"Now why would you be jealous? She's your wife," Suguru teased, his voice light but carrying a note that stirred a chill down your spine. You were still not quite accustomed to being called someone's wife.

"And here you are, all cuddled up next to her," Satoru huffed, his tone playful yet pointed.

"You promised we'd share, Satoru. Don't get greedy now," he added, reminding Satoru of some unspoken agreement that seemed to include you in their plans. You felt nervous as you let outa small breath.

"Promised you'd share?" The words slipped out, small, tinged with disbelief as you craned your neck to look up at Suguru. Almost instantly, you felt Satoru's presence push behind you. His body pressed closer, his breath warm on your neck, and his arms cinched tighter around your waist—a clear sign he didn't appreciate being ignored–even for a moment.

"Of course, sweet girl. We couldn’t possibly let you end up with just anyone," Suguru replied, his tone casual but obviously carrying an coolness that had you momentarily stunned.

"But what do you mean by 'share'?" The question hung awkwardly in the air, your brain not fully wrapping around his meaning. 

Suguru's response was matter-of-fact. "Well, technically, you can only marry one of us, right?"

Before you could digest this, Satoru piped up from behind, his voice laced with a mix of jest and arrogance, "And I’m the heir to the Gojo family, so obviously I’m the better choice."

This boast earned him a scathing look from Suguru, who, despite the tension, continued to stroke your head in a seemingly soothing manner. Yet, the gesture now felt more like a claim being staked, adding to the surreal-ness of the situation. 

"You've always been part of us, yeah? Every moment we've spent together built towards this. It's natural for us to be together. All ours."

Your mind reeled, struggling to piece together the implications of his words. "I... but I thought we were just friends. What do you mean I've always been yours?"

Satoru's breath was warm against your ear. "Think about it. Who's always been there for you? Who have you spent all your time with? It's always been us, hasn't it? It's not just friendship. It's more than that, and deep down, you know it," he whispered, each word designed to reshape your understanding of the past few years you shared together. Willing you to understand.

"But... How? A marriage is supposed to be between two people–a man and a woman–not... not this," you protested weakly, trying to grasp the reality they presented against everything you thought you knew–everything your clan has taught you.

Suguru laughed softly, a sound that used to comfort you but now seemed to carry a darker undertone. "Who says it has to be just two people?–man, woman, same difference. What we have? It's special, unique. We don't need to follow society's rules. We make our own rules because we're meant to be together. All of us."

Satoru nodded, adding, "Exactly. Why limit ourselves? You're ours, and we're yours. We've shared everything, haven't we? Our food, our time, our secrets. Sharing our lives through marriage is just the next step."

Your face flushed red, a mix of confusion and realization washing over you. "I... I do love you both," you admitted, your voice trembling. "You are the most important people in my life. I can't imagine being without you." Despite the situation, your heart knew these feelings were genuine. You've obviously never confessed, and this just felt so new. So nerve wracking.

Suguru's expression softened, his earlier laughter fading into a more sincere, tender smile. "And we love you, too. More than you can imagine," he assured you, hands collecting your hair together. "We've never planned to let you go, not now, not ever."

As Satoru buried his face deeper into your neck, you felt the warmth of his breath and the gentle kisses he planted along your skin. Each kiss was soft, almost reverent, as he murmured right into your ear, “No matter what happens, even if you wanted to leave, we wouldn’t let you. You're part of us, and that’s how it’s going to stay. We’re in this together, forever.”

His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, making your heart swell with happiness. It felt right, being here with them, more right than anything else ever had. They were no longer just dreams or fantasies—they were real, tangible–and  you finally saw them for what they were. 

Yours. 

Suguru’s hands joined Satoru’s at your waist, tightening his hold just as his gaze pierced into yours. His question was direct, catching you by surprise. "Have you been with anyone before?" His eyes seemed to search for any hint of deceit in your response.

You shook your head, knowing exactly what he meant, your cheeks warming with embarrassment. "No, I’ve.... never been with anyone. I don’t even really know how all this is supposed to work," you admitted, feeling your heart race under his intense attention.

Sensing your nervousness, Suguru suddenly took charge, his voice firm as he instructed Satoru to give you some space. "Scoot back a bit, let's not crowd her," he said, a playful note creeping in his voice.  Satoru moved back reluctantly, mumbling a mix of playful huffs and complaints. “She’s my wife,”

"It'll start with kissing," Suguru ignores him, instead focusing his attention on you. "Already done that," you chimed in quickly, remembering the kisses shared with Satoru, the one from the alter-really only wanting to be helpful.

You didn't expect Suguru’s poutily looking away. A hint of annoyance flickering across his face. Sure, he expected the two of you to already kiss when you were married but…. "Satoru’s already kissed you…." he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

Curious, you asked, "What’s wrong?" Satoru couldn't help but chime in with a grin, "Suguru’s jus’ jealous." Your face turned a deeper shade of red at the tease, but before you could respond, Suguru pulled you into him, his lips meeting yours in a deep, all-consuming kiss. It was intense and filled with an urgency that seemed to be fueled by Satoru’s taunting.

His hands trial down your body, squeezing and pulling you closer, exploring you completely. You're sat in his lap, as he forces your hips to grind into his, an obvious bulge pressing against you, his eyes damn near black–blown out, watching you closely as you break for air.

Looking down, his palms massage your thighs, hitching your nightgown up higher, fingers finally reaching your covered slit as you let out a small whimper from the contact. 

You felt all eyes on you, and couldn't help the nerves that coiled in your stomach–even now with you splayed across his lap on display, hungry eyes watching you–you still felt embarrassed. You heard shuffling from behind you, turning your head to meet Satoru-but before you could, Suguru’s hands grabbed your chin to face him. 

“Eyes on me, Doll.” The breathy puff of air you let out was all instinctual–the way he so easily commanded your attention with his pet names. And the tremble in your rolling hips forced his eyes back down, trailing his hand across your chest, your stomach, and finally down to the soaked fabric. “Satoru, I think your wife likes me more.” 

Your hands grip onto the fabric of his shirt, and you so desperately want to look back when you hear the slick sounds from behind you, Satoru’s annoyed sulky puff at Suguru’s comment sounding out around the loud, wet slaps. 

“hah–gimme a minute with her, and let's see who’s talkin’–” But once again Suguru ignores him, his fingers teetering the border of your panties, obviously distracted, before finally sliding a finger along your drenched folds. He lets out a soft chuckle, burying himself in deeper, a sickening squelch reverberating the room, now matching the pace of the sound behind you. So filthy, and you really didn't know any better-

You can't help the low moan you let out, or the way your nails dig into his shoulders, hips bucking into his thick fingers, seeking a release you didn't expect. And just as sudden, he withdrawals his fingers, bringing them up to your face, as if he were scolding you. 

“Look at how filthy you are.” he coos out, voice husky. “So cute.” You’re beet red. 

"Please, tell me you’re gonna let me have a taste.” Satoru's voice sounds out behind you, begging, more desperate than you've ever heard from him before. “C’mon Suguru, please.”

You could hear the rasp in his words, laced with heavy desire, as you watched Suguru shocked, no- stunned at the request. You couldn't see his face, but the audible fapping noises behind you were enough to give you a picture. 

“What do you think, doll? Should we let him taste?” His voice dripping in amusement, as you shake your head, mouth agape, “t-that’s nasty, Sugur–” before you could finish your protest, Suguru leans over you, pulling Satoru in by his neck, pushing you down on the bed in the process.

Now hovering above you, slotted between your legs–his hardened length firmly pressed against your center. You finally have a clear image of them both, as you see his fingers being shoved into Satoru’s mouth, grip choking him, and the lewd image of his fingers fucking into his mouth would stay ingrained into your mind for weeks after–you've never seen him so rough before.

And what shocked you moreso was when Satoru practically moaned at the contact of your taste on his tongue, lolling out, leaning into his aggressive hold as if it were the most natural thing ever. He greedily laps Suguru's fingers, fingers gripping Suguru’s wrist close, eyes rolling back, a sinful expression gracing his face.

You have a clear view of just what Satoru was up to behind your back, his massive hand actively stroking his girthy cock, now inches from your face. You can't keep your eyes off of it as you study it religiously. You've never seen one before. Was that thing supposed to….fit inside you? ]

Suguru chuckled lowly at your reactions, gaze locked onto you before pulling his fingers from Satoru’s mouth, releasing his hold on his neck. 

“He’s such a nasty boy, don't you think? Getting all hard from his wife being felt up like that.” Your eyes find Suguru’s again as he watches you closely. You can't respond-and how were you supposed to with two very large, very big men standing over you?

“You nervous?” you nod before you could stop yourself. Without hesitating, he pushes himself into you, spurring a small whimper from you, “It’s okay baby. We’ll take good care of you.” His fingers find your clit through your panties, as he continues grinding into you, each touch bringing you closer and closer to the edge, mind going fuzzy as you watch Satoru stroking himself. 

His eyes meet yours, glazing over, pupils matching Suguru’s, and they both sense your impending orgasm growing with every passing second, your body responding to Suguru’s touch despite your initial hesitation. "You're so wet already, doll," he murmurs, his breath hot against your neck. “Feels so tight ‘n warm.” 

Satoru chuckles, licking his lips as he watches Suguru's movements, leaning down to hover over your face, “Wanna taste?” And before you could answer, he’s leaning into a deep kiss, tongue slipping past your lips, and you can taste your own slick on him.

Breaking away, his fingers make their way to your mouth, eyes watching you, burning you. He moves his thumb away from your mouth, replacing it with the tip of his cock instead, tracing your lips with it. "Open up."

You feel a shiver run down your spine as you hesitantly part your lips, allowing Satoru to slide his cock inside. Your eyes widen as you taste him for the first time, a salty white thickness coating your tongue. Suguru takes this opportunity to slide a finger inside you once again, curling it just right to hit that spot. 

You moan involuntarily, your hips bucking against his hand, allowing Satoru's cock in deeper, almost choking on it. Satoru smirks, his hands moving to grip your head, guiding your movements. He loves the way you look with his cock in your mouth, so innocent yet so sinful. He thrusts deeper, his hips rocking against your face, as you continue slurping on his thick cock. “Eh eh, no teeth baby, hollow out that mouth, jus like that, goooood girl–”

“Cmon now Satoru, she can't breathe.” Suguru reprimands lightly, your head going dizzy at the lack of oxygen. 

“You sure you're a virgin?” Satoru moaned out, “sure doesn't seem like it.” 

“Easy now, Satoru, don't make me tie you down.” You barely catch the words, Satoru filling your mouth as drool pooled around the edges. You’d complain, but the moans coming from Satoru were godly, and the feel of Suguru grinding into your clothed cunt had easily clouded your thoughts.  

“So good fer me,” Satoru praises, pulling his cock from your mouth, leaving behind a trail of saliva. They both are mesmerized at how your body takes them both so well, each stimulation eliciting such a vulgar reaction from you. You already looked fucked out and they haven’t even started. 

Suguru pulls your panties down now, fixated on your weeping bare cunt, drawing satorus attention. “Sucha pretty little hole.” His fingers trail the edges, before dipping inside, and you moan at the intrusion.

“Let's keep this mouth busy, yeah?” and before you know it, Satoru’s cock is back on your tongue, thrusting in deep, as you gag. The sight of your pretty mouth struggling to accommodate him only spurs him on, and you do your best to relax your jaw–only hoping that you were doing it right. 

Suguru's eyes flicker with a primal hunger as he watches you struggle to adjust to Satoru's cock. He withdraws his fingers from you slowly, leaving you aching and empty for just a moment before he replaces them with something much larger.

You feel his cock press against your entrance, causing your eyes to widen, not sure he’d be able to even fit there. Satoru chuckles at your reaction, gripping your head firmer as he thrusts deeper into your mouth. Suguru leans down, his lips grazing your ear. "Relax," he whispers soothingly. "It'll be easier if you just relax, baby."

You nod, trying to settle down, trusting him completely, he slowly pushes himself inside you, his thick length stretching you wide open. You whimper around Satoru's cock as Suguru fills you up, pleasure and pain melding together in a heady mix, the stretch almost unbearable.

Satoru groans at the feel of your throats vibrations, as Suguru gives you a moment to adjust before he starts moving, his hips rocking into yours in a slow, steady rhythm. Satoru matches his pace, thrusting in sync with Suguru. You feel completely filled, sandwiched between them both. They take turns praising you, their voices muffled by their own pleasure-filled moans.

"Fuck, you feel incredible."  Suguru's husky voice echoes through your mind as he picks up the pace, thrusting deeper inside your sloppy pussy. "Such a good girl, taking both of us so well." Satoru adds, his breathing labored as he watches Suguru claim you, eagerly awaiting his turn.

Their movements become more erratic as they lose themselves in their lust, their hands roaming over your body possessively. 

Suguru's thumb circles your clit faster, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you, as Satoru thrusts harder into your mouth, his cock hitting the back of your throat with each movement. You moan around him again, the vibrations sending shockwaves through him, causing his hips to stutter. They continue to worship your body, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. “Should I cum in this pussy?” Suguru says, staring down at you through hooded eyes.

His words send a bolt of pleasure straight to your pussy, your walls contracting around him involuntarily. His grip on your hips tightens, his thrusts becoming rougher as he groans, "Fuck yes, I'm going to cum inside you, this pussy will be dripping, ‘m gonna give you so much." His eyes bore into yours, filled with a possessive hunger that makes you squirm. Satoru groans at the sight, his cock pulsing against your tongue.

Satoru pulls out of your mouth momentarily to trail wet kisses down your neck, leaving your mouth open for you to sputter out a string of curses and moans. He circles your nipple with his tongue, making you arch into him as Suguru continues to fuck you mercilessly. “Fuck, she's so responsive.” His own climax building at the sight of your impending orgasm. 

Suguru grunts in approval at your response, his hips driving harder into yours, his cock stretching you deliciously. You can hear the offensive wet sounds of their movements filling the room, making your core clench even more around Suguru's length. "you're so goddamn tight,"

Suguru curses, his control slipping. Satoru's lips leave your nipple to trail kisses along your collarbone, his breath hot against your skin. "You're going to cum for us, aren't you, sweetheart?" He asks huskily, his hand wandering down to grip your thigh, holding it aside so he could see better. 

"Mhmph," you moan, nodding vigorously, your body trembling under the dual assault. Suguru grunts, his pace relentless as he feels your pussy begin to spasm around him. "That's it, take it all, you're doing so well," Satoru praises, his voice rough, strained with arousal. Suguru's movements become erratic as he chases his own climax, his thrusts becoming rougher, deeper, more primal.

"Fuckfuck–yes, cum on this dick,” He curses as his orgasm hits, his cock pulsing inside you as he releases hot streams of cum. Your walls tighten around him, your orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave, making you buck wildly against him.

Suguru growls as he feels you clamp around him, cursing as he sinks his fingers into you tighter. Satoru watches intently, his hand gripping the base of his cock tightly to prevent himself from cumming too soon. Suguru's movements slow, but he doesn’t pull out, letting his cum fill you as he catches his breath. "Holy shit. You were holdin' out on us." 

Suguru presses soft kisses against your neck while he waits for you to come down from your high. Suguru withdraws from you slowly, his cum trickling down onto the king bed below you. Before you can catch your breath, Satoru takes his place, his cock pressing against your sensitive entrance. "My turn now," and before you can protest, he thrusts in deep as Suguru leans in to capture your pathetic whimpers with a filthy kiss.

Satoru's fingers dig into your hips as he thrusts deeper into you–the stretch so familiar but so different, his movements calculated to drive you wild. "So wet,so sososo so good," he groans, his pace increasing steadily. He loves the feeling of you around him, the way your walls clench with each stroke, recovering from your orgasm-pulsating just right-so hotsohotsohot, Suguru’s cum working as a lube for your poor abused hole–no doubt overstimulated. Suguru watches from the side, stroking himself lazily as he watches Satoru claim you, his own lust rekindled. They both lose themselves in the moment, completely consumed by their desire for you. 

"You're going to take every drop," Satoru grunts, his own orgasm building. Your eyes roll back as you feel your climax approaching at a scary speed, your body begging for release as he hits all the right spots.

When you finally cum, your pussy milks him greedily, pulling out every last drop of cum. They both groan in pleasure, the sight of you too good to pass up, as Satoru pulls out, he chuckles at your spent form, the sight of his cum dripping from you making him hard again already. Collapsing on the bed next to you, spent and satisfied.

He reaches out to trace patterns over your sensitive folds, playing with the mess they've made together, slick pooling at his fingertips. "Look at what a good little slut you are, stuffed by two men's seeds," he teases, leaning in to press a tender kiss against your thigh before looking over at Suguru with a mischievous glint in his eye. "You think she can handle us both filling her up?"

Suguru looks over at you with a hungry gaze, he runs a hand through his dark hair, eyes trailing down to where their cum pools between your legs. "We'll have to see," he says, a wicked smile playing on his lips. He moves closer, positioning himself beside Satoru so that they're both looming over you, staring down at your spent form. "But first, Be a good boy, Satoru, and clean her up." 

His hand on the back of his head, but you don't think he needed much convincing. Satoru leans forward without hesitation, his tongue licking up the mixture of their cum from your inner thighs- drawing patterns, his movements slow and deliberate, savoring the taste of both of their essences mixed with your sweetness. You whimper at the sensation, your body still sensitive and now overstimulated.

Suguru watches, his hand gripping Satoru's hair tightly, his own cock stirring again at the sight of Satoru’s tongue dipping into your pussy, tonguing the white mixture, with a nasty blissed out expression.

"Spread wider for him, doll," he instructs, his voice husky with desire. You obey automatically despite you craving the need to shut them tightly, your legs trembling as Satoru's tongue delves deeper, arms pinning your bucking hips down to the bed. 

You moan out loudly, your body writhing beneath him, as Satoru licks and sucks at your swollen clit, relishing in your responsiveness, swallowing down every drop that your pussy gave him.

Suguru reaches over him to fondle your breasts, pinching your nipples gently as he watches Satoru work his magic on your sensitive nerves. "Such a good girl," he praises, his free hand stroking his hardening cock again. "So responsive, so eager for more. You really ready for round two?"

Satoru smirks up at Suguru, licking cum from his lips before leaning up to meet his lips in a filthy kiss. You watch in a haze of pleasure as they share your taste, their tongues tangling together hungrily. When they finally pull apart, Suguru's eyes are dark with desire as he looks down at you. 

"I think she's ready for whatever we want to give her," 

did you want to read it again?

come home, this one has a second home

[callipraxia]

Lots of interesting stuff here; the one point, aside from how I love the phrase “ship of Theseus-ing himself,” I can comment on…somewhat succinctly is the “learning that maybe it’s just better if he shuts himself off from the world so nobody has a chance to hurt him.” I think it partially was as a self-defense measure…but also partially due to his shift toward “mission-oriented” behavior.

We know Stan is a social creature. He craves connection. Not all that long before he went to Gravity Falls, we saw him trying to befriend his cellmates in a Colombian prison. It’s also well-established that he likes women and has had (tumultuous) relationships with them in the past, but by the time the Lazy Susan B-Plot happens in s1, he’s clearly been out of the game for a while. We see no evidence, in fact, that he ever had any relationships in GF in thirty years of living there…because how could he? He couldn’t tell a love interest who he was or what he was doing with his free time, because if that relationship didn’t work out, that person would have epic blackmail material. And if he had a love interest and let her continue to believe he was Stanford Pines, well, that was going to get awkward when he definitely rescued the real one any day now, wasn’t it? So, between needing to lie about who he was and the simple fact that dating would take up time which could otherwise be spent on his mission, having even a girlfriend, never mind a wife, would have been tantamount to giving up, which is…not an option in his world usually, because the “stubborn” bit stuck no matter what else about him changed. Having friends would also introduce the same problems, to a probably lesser extent. So, therefore, there was nothing to do but shut himself off from the world, which became a self-reinforcing habit that progressively made him more and more cynical and bitter about his position in life as everyone learned he was emotionally isolated from other people and therefore not someone they liked or trusted….

Aaah, this reminds me of a fic I never wrote. We know a little about Carla McCorkle and Marilyn, but the rhyme at the end of “Roadside Attraction” also mentions a “Beatrice” who “slapped him for being a cad.” We never hear anything else about Beatrice, which made her fair game, so a plot idea I had involved Stan - since this was early into his career, before he had fully shifted the public idea of Stanford Pines away from “the science guy in the woods” - more or less accidentally getting recruited to help judge the science fair, despite how he knew relatively little science at that time and also really, really hates science fairs in particular. Cue light romantic comedy with a Beatrice also associated with this event during the lead-up to it/his efforts to sabotage it so it doesn’t ever happen…which then, of course, naturally all has a bad ending when he realizes that oh, yeah, right…his life is fake and he has a top-secret, all-important mission in his basement, time to deliberately behave badly until Beatrice breaks up with him and the ending is discordantly sad and angsty. Never wrote it because I could never figure out how to write and pace the romantic comedy bits, though.

Something I think about so much is just how different the Stanley Pines we see in ATOTS is from the Grunkle Stan we know in the rest of the show.

Like, have you ever noticed just how much more expressive Stan is in 1983? The guy wears his heart on his sleeve so much more than he does later on. At almost every moment you can tell exactly what he's thinking and feeling just from his face, something that will become a lot rarer for him. Even setting aside the portal incident scene itself, have y'all ever watched the Dusk 2 Dawn scene and just watched Stan's face? He looks so… openly sad.

It's not just his expressions. Here's a detail that only just occurred to me: you guys ever think it's weird that Stan doesn't just try to steal the bread from Dusk 2 Dawn? Like, you'd think his stealing habit would've originated from his years on the street stealing to survive, but no— he tries to pay for the bread, and then when he doesn't have any money, he figures out how to get some. It's surprisingly honest.

And just like… I don't know, his whole vibe is so different. He's come from this life of hardship completely willing to talk things through. He's emotional, he's open, and not exactly what you'd expect to see when you imagine what a younger Grunkle Stan might have been like. In fact, his vibe is so different that, in Journal 3, Ford writes that when he first saw Stan, he assumed he was just in another alternate dimension rather than the one he came from.

Anyway, it just makes me think about the transition of how, exactly, he went from one to the other. How we go from the "stubborn, frostbitten vagabond" to the "carnival barker" he is by the show's present. I think about that in-between Stan a lot. Realizing that the hole in his heart, the one he thought was caused by his circumstance for so long, hadn't disappeared even now that he had money and a steady place to live. Growing more bitter and grumpy by the day, learning that maybe it's just better if he shuts himself off from the world so nobody has a chance to hurt him. Seeing himself aging and finding himself no closer to saving Ford. Ship of Theseus-ing himself into the carefully curated asshole that maybe even he thinks he is.

[simpjaes]

✘ WIP DIARY ── LAST NIGHT, I READ YOUR DIARY. (p.sh) ✘

Sunghoon has been trying be everything you need since your mother passed. A father, a friend, a therapist. You never really understood what your mother saw in him in the first place, if you’re being honest. He’s awkward, quiet, and typically used to keep to himself up until now. You’re impressed with his efforts by the time you’re entering into your senior year of college, though his entire demeanor towards you seems to have changed.  or the one where your step-father grows obsessed with you minute by minute. 

── step-dad /weirdo park sunghoon x afab reader  

── minors dni

── tags: sunghoon is in his 30s, reader is in her 20s so, age gap, step-cest, heartbreak, obsession, manipulation, coercion, stockholm syndrome-ish, fluff if he manipulates you as a reader lmfao, angst, smut. don't read this if you are easily triggered. ── side characters: heeseung as reader's ex boyfriend, jay as reader's closest friend

── !WARNINGS!: this work contains non-con, dub-con, and stalking behavior. your mom isn’t alive in this fic. warnings will be updated as i write.

── a/n: this one is gonna be a wild ride, that's all i gotta say.

LAST UPDATED: 12.22.24

⨯ est wordcount: 20k+ ⨯ current wordcount: 5.4k ⨯ est release date: tbd ⨯ taglist: ask to be on my perma tag list!

playlist ⨯ recommended song: last night i read your diary - gürl She's got me down on my knees I beg, I beg, I, I beg, I beg, please! I want it more than I need And I need it like I need to breathe Like I'm losing my- Choke.

PREVIEW (3.1k):

no warnings apply to the preview, it's just the first couple of thousand words for this fic. aka, the intro and the set up for what will inevitably happen later:

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Your first heartbreak is meant to be painful, but this? This is more painful than you could have ever imagined. 

Heeseung was one of your only constants in life. From childhood to high school it’s like he was there more than your own mother was, and certainly more than your own father. Even when she passed, Heeseung was the one who held you through it, he’s the one who made you smile again, he’s the one who made you feel like it was okay to heal and keep going. 

It’s the fact that it was a mutual break up that hurts the most because deep down, you couldn’t see yourself without him. Yet, still, you willingly watched him hop on the plane with a short kiss and long goodbye. It felt so final to you. You could have handled a long distance relationship, truly. But Heeseung didn’t want that. He wanted to explore the world, he wanted to try new things, be with new people. 

Do things without you clinging to him all the time. 

In a way, you understand that. After all, you’re the only girl he had ever been with up until now. Senior year of college. You think you knew your relationship was coming to an end by the time he announced he was going to be studying abroad for his final year without ever once even telling you he was applying to do so. 

So, yeah, it was mutual solely because you want him to be happy and he’s made it clear that he believes that can only happen without you. Such is life. Painful, painful fucking life.  

Just last year when your mother passed, you nearly dropped out and Heeseung had been your rock to make it through class after class with a grade barely high enough to pass. You’re certain some of your professors took pity on you and raised your grade just enough to move forward. You’ll forever thank them for recognizing how hard you were trying. But now? Without your mother, without Heeseung, you’re at a loss.

And there’s a difference between loneliness and isolation, you think. Loneliness to you always hits hard during small spaces in your day, like when you’d get into Heeseung’s car and he would close your door for you. The silence always hurt your ears while he was still making his way around the car to the driver’s seat. A shallow loneliness that you could feel right at the top of your gut, like it was squeezing inside of you and making you lose your appetite. Solely because that silence reminded you of what you always had, a lack of loneliness because of him.

But then there’s isolation. Where it feels forced upon you by other people. Your mother fucking died, Heeseung fucking left, and now you’re just here expected to wake up like you always do, go to class, study hard, sleep well, when the reality of it is– you’re genuinely struggling just to look at yourself in the mirror. 

Then there’s Sunghoon. The only person close enough to you now that you can reach out to. The issue with that is– you’ve never actually been close. And that’s what sucks. The fact that he of all people is all you have now? May as well just assume you have nobody.

His regular calls mean close to nothing to you in the grand scheme of things. Despite him calling twice a week every week since your mother died, your step-father is just as distanced from you as you are him. You’re aware that it’s his obligation, not because he cares. And that hurts, because it’s all you have now. 

Now, you have to try and find meaning in those short calls. After all, Sunghoon fell apart when your mother passed all on his own and you had only called him out of obligation too. You were already in college and stressed, falling apart yourself with someone to love beside you helping you through it. Calling him when it all happened felt empty because you knew both of you were trying to hold it together and save face. 

It wasn’t like this before she died. In fact, he never called and you never cared for him to. You’d see each other when you were home, share awkward pleasantries, and that’s it. It’s hard to believe that now you feel like you need a father, after all those years of practically rejecting him as one. He seemed fine with that after you hit your teen years. He knew by then that he could never be the father you want, but at least he could be the husband your mother needed.

You have grief in common now though. Loneliness. Isolation.

You try not to think about how you were okay up until now though. Having Heeseung to fall back on to soften the blow of your loss, you guess Sunghoon didn’t have that. Maybe his monotone voice and empty words were his way of coping, his way of hearing a voice that wasn’t the one in his own head when he calls you. 

It’s just you and a man you never considered family past the titles and obligatory respects. Finding meaning in his short phone calls does nothing to help your growing isolation, but you cling to them now that Heeseung is gone. You wait for the calls, you ask him to check in with you every day now, to the point Sunghoon starts to notice the difference in you.

No longer rushing to get off the phone. Now, you’re dragging on meaningless conversations. Now, he hears cracks in your voice. 

“You feeling okay?” Sunghoon asks you, in a way that makes you wonder how he’s able to tell that you’re definitely not. The way his own voice has a bit of life to it when he asks it…strange too. Like he’s concerned. 

“No–” You trail off in your meek voice, staring at your ceiling and mind swirling with all of the work you need to get done for classes already. “I’ve only been in classes for a week and I already feel like I’m drowning.” 

Sunghoon sighs into the speaker, contemplating how to further the conversation with you in a way that isn’t too intrusive. After all, who is he to pry? Still, he never intended for you to feel neglected or like you couldn’t come to him. After all, you were too happy about his lack of parenting you throughout his presence in your life. 

He finds solace in the fact that you’ve been accepting him now, though he hasn’t the slightest idea as to why. He’s checked in with you since the passing, but lately it feels to him like something more is going on with you. He may be somewhat estranged, and he may have his own problems to deal with, but you’re still someone he needs to be here for.

Plus, it makes him feel needed again, which is nice considering the circumstances. After living in this bustling house with you and your mom for so long, to it just being him and your mom, to now just him…all that remains now is dread, dissociation, and unwashed dishes in the sink.

“Did something happen?” Sunghoon keeps his questions short, offering more silence if anything for you to use this call as a therapy session if you need. 

You pause for a long moment, realizing that you want to talk about your issues so badly but don’t quite feel the need to share it with him of all people. You’ve already ranted day after day to Jay. To the point you’re sure he’s about one rant away from blocking your number. 

Probably because you’re not that close to him either. Not these days, anyway.

You sigh instead. 

“No…” You trail off. “I think I just miss being home. My dorm mate is never here, class work is already piling up, and I can’t even find the energy to look at the assignments.” 

Sunghoon can tell you’re feeling much like he does and he can’t imagine the weight on your shoulders dealing with these feelings while also in college. But, you have Heeseung, do you not? You’ve been fine for the most part until now, and you haven’t even brought him up. Not once in the past few weeks has his name been uttered by you. Which is strange, after all, the two of you were practically attached at the hip growing up, to the point of choosing the same college, working the same jobs, and even keeping that middle-school puppy love in full swing throughout highschool and college. 

If anything, after your mother passed, Sunghoon felt okay knowing you had Heeseung there with you to help you through it. It meant he could focus on himself and getting through the day-to-day. He could barely handle his own mournful thoughts, let alone the daughter’s feelings of the woman he loved so dearly. He was forever grateful for Heeseung during this time. 

He has his suspicions now though, and his heart aches for the voice he hears from you these days. 

“Why don’t you come home for a while?” He lends a pause to see if you’ll jump for the opportunity before selling the idea to you. “I have the bills here covered and your campus is only a forty minute drive. I’m sure that’s inconvenient but you won’t have bills to worry about on top of everything else.” He doesn’t want to sound too desperate, of course. 

After all, the loneliness he’s feeling is also becoming unbearable. Even if the two of you never were able to see eye to eye, or to form a bond together, you’re all he has left of your mother. He, arguably, is nothing to you, but there’s no one else in this world he’d rather heal the loneliness with outside of you. Only because you knew your mother on a level deeper than he did, and to have someone to share those memories with, or even laugh with, would help him tremendously too.

“I think being at home may do you some good.” 

You think it over in your head, wondering if being home will help you at all. In reality, you know it may make you feel more trapped than you do now. All those memories with your mother, with Heeseung, with all of your friends that have since moved to different colleges. 

But…you wouldn’t be alone. You’d be with someone who knows how to give you space because he’s never even tried to shrink your existence to that of your bedroom and your bedroom alone. You wouldn’t have to worry about rent, food, or anything aside from studies, gas money, and trying to heal from your heartbreak. 

Your dorm is small, you note as you look around the room and wonder how long it would take you to pack your things up. Two hours, give or take. The longest part would be taking all of the little decorations off the wall, if you’re being honest. 

You find yourself nodding before answering, solidifying in your mind that– maybe you’re not the only one who needs company in your space. Not too close, but close enough to not be totally isolated. 

“Okay.” You mutter into the phone, for some reason feeling the tears well up behind your eyes. 

You’re just a bit overwhelmed, that’s all. Knowing you’re going home feels like a relief you didn’t know you needed. 

“Yeah?” Sunghoon confirms. “Just let me know when and I’ll drive up there to help get your stuff back home.” 

You agree, sighing into the phone with a shaking voice. Sunghoon takes note of it, always remembering and quite frankly missing how loud and obnoxious you used to be. Hearing you like this pains him. He wants to help. Now more than ever is his chance to be someone you need, and he hates knowing he feels happy about it. 

Getting to be your father now? It feels awkward, but at least it’s a feeling other than loss. 

“You know you can talk to me, right?” Sunghoon sighs at you through the speaker. “I know I’m not someone you like coming to but–well, I’d like for you to rely on me more, okay?” 

You find a lot of comfort in those words, despite hearing him say them time and time again. This is the first time he’s ever shown that he means it through the offer of bringing you home, rather than just saying it and accepting whatever you say back to him at face value. 

“I know…” You trail off. “I’m okay though, really.” 

Sunghoon hates himself for never forcing you to accept him. Sure, there may have been some teenage defiance towards him, but eventually the two of you could have seen eye to eye. He could have been someone you needed. You could have relied on him too, rather than just Heeseung. That’s all he can really think right now. 

“Are you sure there’s nothing else going on?” The man nearly pleads in his tone, desperate to have someone rely on him again. “I’ve never heard you sound so exhausted before, I can’t help but worry.”

You’d tell him, but honestly, what grown ass man wants to hear about a first heartbreak? It would just get awkward again, he’d just feel obligated to do something about it, and worse, he might end up feeling like he’s supposed to dislike Heeseung now. 

You choose to remain silent in the final straw that broke your back this semester. 

“Really, I’m just tired.” You nod to yourself as you hold your phone loosely against your ear. “I might not go to class tomorrow and just pack instead. I’ll just call you when I’m ready, is that okay?”

Sunghoon smiles to himself, wanting to mean something to you in a way that can hopefully help you out of this slump. Your mother would be throwing a fit if she heard how you’ve been sounding, he can’t help but take over that role and try to make damn sure you are okay. 

“That’s fine,” Sunghoon confirms. “I’ll call and let them know what’s going on so don’t worry about any of that. Just get yourself ready to come back home.” 

You find yourself smiling, relieved that you don’t have to be the one to contact your school and tell them that…well, you’re breaking your student-lease, dropping your food plan, and need to be reimbursed for partial tuition costs since Sunghoon insists every semester that you purchase tuition insurance. You should no longer be charged to live on campus, or for the facilities within the dorm. 

Knowing you’ll at least get back a couple thousand dollars is a nice change of pace, and already you’re feeling weirdly excited to go back to a space that will likely make you miss your mother more. It’ll hurt, but at least you won’t be alone anymore. 

The forty minute drive to campus feels less horrifying now, and maybe your friends will still come and hang out with you in your actual home rather than a tiny dorm. 

“Sounds good.” You say, as if to end the call before you mutter out again. “Thank you, by the way. Sunghoon, really.” 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Sunghoon knew he was spiraling further and further into his loneliness. He knew it wasn’t healthy either, but now. Oh, now he realizes just how bad it’s gotten as he demonizes himself upon picking you up. 

You haven’t come home since your mother’s funeral, and even on that day he barely remembers what you looked like. Eye contact was never a thing for him, but looking at you now, he sees how much you’ve matured since you went off to college. 

Your once bright, excited eyes have turned dull and empty. The bags under them are heavy from lack of sleep. Your lips appear to be in a permanent state of pouting, though he isn’t sure if you’ve noticed. You appear to have lost weight, which is concerning for him of course, but…there’s something else about you.

Something that sits in the pit of his stomach and rots.

“Uh–” You cough, noting the way Sunghoon looks at you as you try to hand him a large box. “Thank you for helping me move my stuff back…” 

Sunghoon snaps out of his thoughts, grabbing a heavy box and then waiting for you to stack another on top. 

“No big deal,” He mutters, feeling the weight in his hands double as he prepares to carefully carry your things out to his car. “You haven’t come home in over a year, but I’ve fixed up your room for you and went ahead and connected my gaming system in there.”

You nod quietly, feeling awkward for how fatherly he seems.

“Thanks…” You trail off, flopping a pile of your things into his trunk before stopping to look at him. “You look like shit.”

Sunghoon furrows his brows, noticing for a split second how that facial expression you made is very similar to one his wife used to throw at him when he’d have hair out of place, or a wardrobe malfunction. And then he smiles. 

“You’re not looking too good yourself.” He jokes back.

You smile back at him, feeling a bit of the awkward air fizzle away. 

“Well, I’m not doing well, so.” 

You were continuing the joke, but his face falls before yours does. 

“You can talk to me–” He starts.

“I know, I know.” You wave him off. “I’ll feel a lot better once we get back and I can settle in.

There’s a nod from him now, and then silence as the two of you continue to put the rest of your belongings into both his car and your own. 

“Well, I guess I’ll see you in a bit?” You say now, awkwardly.

Sunghoon nods, looking you over once again.

“See you in a bit.” 

   ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Shame.

Pure fucking shame. 

Sunghoon knew he needed another presence in this house but upon seeing you again, he knew it may have been a mistake. 

He likes to think of himself as level headed. He’s never gotten into any trouble, never had a stray thought, never cheated, lied, or stole anything. He can’t think of a single thing that he’s done in life to be considered taboo.  But looking at you feels…incorrect?

Indecent? 

You’re his step-daughter for fuck sake but it’s the fact that you don’t feel like you are. When he looks at you, he just sees another person. He did this to help you, he did this to feel needed, to be your fucking father. 

He did not do this to look at you this way or to feel his eye stray even without his intention.

Why do you look so much like her? Why do you do that thing with your pinky when you carry things like she did? You even have a similar smell, probably having picked up on your mother’s habits throughout childhood. 

You being here…It’s like she’s still here. Except it’s you, and he can’t be thinking this way. 

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

This fic will be dark, very taboo, morally bad. Not a grey area, it is blatantly bad. sunghoon will do bad things. Please be aware of your own triggers once it's completed and posted. remember that I write within my own triggers, not yours. That being said! Please do show lots of love if this is a fic you're interested in reading! If you want to be tagged, I have a permanent tag list, there are not any separate tag lists for individual fics so keep that in mind.  ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

[writingwisterias]

New Beginnings

Leon Kennedy X AFAB!Reader (Pictured Leon between Re2 &RE4R) Warnings: FLUFF, Slight Angst, Dad Leon, Summary: After being sent to training, he returns home to meet his new girl for the time.. This is based off this ERAs and requested by anon to extend it!

Leon,

I’m not sure if you will get this, mom wasn't sure if they would let you have these whilst you were in training but I wanted you to get the updates still. I went for my first scan today, they said everything looks good. I've been craving lots of cucumbers. Mom said she thinks I'll turn into one if I keep going. They also lied about morning sickness…it's all the damn time. The first trimester is almost over, I've sent you a photo of the scan and the bump 

Stay safe.

Your love <3

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

Leon,

I’ve been missing you a lot recently, our little girl is kicking all the time. I think she gets it from you! Oh no, I revealed the gender…I can't believe we are having a little girl. Mom and Dad helped me set up a new nursery in a flat that I managed to get close to them. I’ve given you another photo of the bump and the latest scan. I think I've popped now...cravings are still cucumbers and morning sickness has subsided. 

Stay safe, 

Your love xx

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

Leon, 

Not long to go now, the nursery is all setup. I chose an enchanted woodland theme. Lots of little creatures hiding around the room. Filled with greens and it just feels cosy I can't wait for you to see it. I think she's about ready to come out now, she's kicking like mad and dropped really low. I'm scared but I know that you have been brave all this time so I'll do it for us. I really hope you are okay…I miss you like crazy. Even though she feels like I have a part of you with me. 

Stay safe 

Love 

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

Leon, 

Wow, what a whirlwind, our little girl was born a couple of months ago. She's been a handful so it took me a while to write this letter…if they even give them to you! The delivery is rough but worth it. She has the cutest blond hair and blue eyes you wouldn't believe! I've picked my favourite pictures of the past few months…I know they'll be returned to me soon enough anyway. 

See you soon

Love xx

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

Leon stared at the letters from where he spread them out on the little tray on the plane. His reflection is sharper and colder than when you last saw him. Guilt and nerves collided through his system like a drug, his stomach bubbling with anxiety as they announced the landing. Your handwriting hadn't changed over the years, always the same cursive font that was written in the margins of his textbooks. He smiled at the small doodles decorating the edges where he knew you were just thinking of what to say. It felt unreal like he was going to wake up to some sick dream the world decided to play on him. To take away this tiny lifeline of happiness he had left. 

He wondered what would happen if he didn't return if he left you both untouched by the taint that he carried with him. The rucksack of nightmares he had seen in the past two years, the one he had to train his shoulders to carry. His hands were rough, his eyes piercing. Would you even be able to find the same soul that you fell in love with before? 

And then there was his daughter, something born out of pure innocent love. A romance blossoming on the white picket fence fantasy he always dreamed of…only to now have a father who was unsure if he could provide that for any of you. If he could even step up to be the man she needed. The one she would run to when she needed help with boys or the kids bullying him. The few campmates he did get along with told him that he didn't miss the precious moments. That there was still time for him to form a loving bond between father and daughter. A small part of him inside hated the photos as they were evidence of everything he missed, all the small kicks and the cravings you experienced. Not being able to soothe you when it all got too much just like you did that night. 

The attendant announced the plane landing, the runway coming into view masking his reflection. Leon folded all the letters again, having remembered every letter and word you imprinted on the page. The ink smudged on some of them. The pictures were tucked in the cheap wallet he bought when he was at the airport safe for when he needed them. His movements were calculated and careful, Leon's mind already aware of everyone around him as he moved. He helped the older lady next to him with her back, his arm held out to guide her off the plane. He watched the bittersweet reunion as her daughter found her. Their cries of happiness blend into the chaos with the other people around them, the further he gets away. Worry settled when he thinks about accidentally walking past you as he left the gate. His eyes scanned for any figure he remembered. The silhouette that visited him in his dreams was like an angel. Leon often swore he could still feel your phantom touch the next morning as his cheek always felt slightly warmer as he completed his early laps of the base. The warmth was always welcomed, however, instead of the coldness of Krauser's stare or his words as he corrected him again. 

Then he saw it, the cursive writing of some paper sign in the corner of his eye. The bold letter was held by a woman who scanned her eyes over the crowd. His name and the fingers that grasped the sign were yours. 

Leon took a moment, watching as people continued to move around him. Taking advantage of his hardened appearance to watch you. His eyes are not failing to notice the young girl on your hip. The now two-year-old waved at people as they passed, her hand grasping the charm on your necklace tightly. The photos didn't do her justice, she looked exactly like him. Her piercing blue eyes met his. They always said kids notice more than adults. 

He watched the way her curious stare ran over him, trying to figure him out…almost like he was familiar to her. You had noticed she’d gone quiet. Turning your head to look at where the young girl had now rested it on your shoulder. He watched as you asked her what was wrong, shifting her in your arms slightly. Your hip jolts out to support her weight better. Leon's feet didn't move, they couldn't. Right, there was all he ever wanted. Did he deserve it? Was it actually his? The perfect dream, the one he saw every single night in that stupid bunk amongst the snores of his bunkmates. 

His whole body froze as you looked at him, the whole world stopped. Your love washed over him like a tide crashing against rocks. It was fierce, strong and unstoppable. The current is already pulling him into your ocean of affection. His little girl began to cry as you passed her to your mum. Your feet are already pounding on the airport carpet as you bolt it to him. He didn't know what else to do but welcome you, like the hole in his heart was finally filled. The two years apart suddenly ended with a new beginning.

You collided into his chest with such force he stumbled. His own emotions leak out into the softness of your skin. Words failed him, they seemed to fail you as well as you held him in silence. Your smaller frame fits against his own with no change. However, you could feel the new muscles. His hardened grip is proof of his changes not that you cared about them. You would learn to love this new version just as you promised on that one night. Your promise was never forgotten when he left in that black car. Your heart is still soul-tied to him. 

Leon's breath faltered when you pulled away, his biceps subconsciously pulling you in closer. Your eyes met his, your warm smile melting his tough gaze. “There he is,” you whispered. At your words, he crumbled, his frame shaking as tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. He tried to smile, to muster up the courage to say anything. Part of you regretted bringing your daughter now fearing he would be overwhelmed in meeting her in this state. Yet to his credit, he stood up straighter, a small smile filling his features. His hand cradled your face bringing you into a long-awaited kiss. He didn't need to speak. You knew exactly what he wanted to say. You could feel the love radiating from him, pouring it into the first kiss. His soul begging for redemption from situations you didn't know he had experienced. His hands were almost afraid to touch you, to swallow you in the darkness he had retreated himself into. 

You heard her before you felt her, the small stumbling steps of your two-year-old as she collided with your legs almost taking you off your feet. 

You watched Leon's eyebrows pinch in concern as he felt your body buckle, hands sprawled out on his chest to catch yourself. Your daughter's hands gripped at your legs, small tugs on your shirt as she whimpered to be picked up. Leon's demeanour changed when you did. His body regained the stiffness as he looked at her closely. Their eye contact was intense both trying to figure out what to make of each other. “Baby, This is daddy remember?” You prompted, eyes solely focused on the small girl. Leon was grateful for that, you couldn’t see his flinch at the word. The small girl nodded her hand outstretched to him. 

That was the thing about children, always curious. No matter if they were reaching out towards unknown danger. You would have protected her if you thought it was dangerous. Part of him wanted to back away, careful not to let the innocent fingers touch his blood-stained skin afraid if they pulled away her tiny hands would be strained red. You knew otherwise, you always did. Allowed these hands to cradle your face, to hold you when he finally returned home. Her hand touched the stubble that coated his cheeks, the small strands of hair prickly against her tiny fingers. You watched him process the touch, his frame softening arms finally wrapping around the both of you.

“Daddy” The girl muttered, a small toothy grin growing on her features. Her small arms wrapped around his neck as he swung from you to him. She was so small against him, his large arms hiding her from the surrounding crowd. His other one holding you close. “Thank you…I’m sorry I wasn’t..” Leon finally spoke. You shook your head, “You were always here, How do you think she knows who you are?” You smiled. He was home, different, but home. Your parents picked up his bags as they followed you both home. He was too busy carrying his whole world in his arms anyway.