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criminalamnesia · 5 months

Note

GOD I LOVE traitor and how strong you've made the reader. It's amazing! And I eagerly await any future parts, whether it's big proper story or drabbles. BUT, you come first and your life does so you do what you gotta and go be amazing! We can wait. Proud of you X

im so late to responding, but thank you! <3

here’s part six :) also not really proofread so I apologize for any errors! I’ll fix them later!

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

you don’t know how long you’ve been sitting on the floor, cross-legged amongst broken glass, brittle flowers, and discarded clothes, when someone knocks on the door.

you don’t move, don’t say anything. the noise seems distant— too far off to be real.

besides, if someone is really knocking on your door, they know you’re in here.

and if they know you’re in here, it could be one of five people. your former squad mates, or the doctor.

the knock sounds again. it shakes you from your stupor, yet you still make no move to answer it. let them come in; let them see what they’ve made of you. of who you were. of who you could’ve been.

the person on the other side of the door is speaking now. you register the muffled baritone as it fights to be heard from the hall.

you clench your fists, then unclench them— stretching out your fingers as far as they go. clench them again. unclench. stretch. repeat.

it’s a tick— a calming habit. you don’t think it’s working at the present moment.

the doorknob turns. you still don’t move.

the door is being pushed in, light from the hallway aggressively slicing through the darkness you’d left yourself in. you fought the urge to curl in on yourself.

you’d been so consumed by your anger— are consumed by it— but coming into this room and seeing that damn note was earth-shaking. it was terrifying, and it was a tangible reminder of the team’s unapologetic tactics. simon’s unapologetic tactics.

the voice is speaking once more, clearer now that the door is out of the way— but you can’t make out the words over the ringing in your ears.

a hand gingerly lands on your shoulder, and that’s when you snap.

you whirl around, throwing yourself into the intruder like a cobra striking its prey. clearly caught off guard, the person lets loose a ‘oomph’ and falls backwards as you take out their legs.

everything is fuzzy. the ringing in your ears crescendos, and it brings pain with it. you’re striking your target with reckless abandon, still not registering who is flailing underneath you.

punches land and land and land. nails scrape and scratch and draw blood. all you see is red— all you hear is the sharpening of a knife or the whirring of a saw.

and then there are hands on you, yanking you away from your victim. the red slowly starts to recede, the ringing in your ears subsiding.

it’s only then do you release you’re screaming.

its only then do you see the swollen and bloodied face of your doctor, lying a foot away from you. she sputters a cough, blood leaving her lips and splattering onto the man leaning over her.

“you need to calm down,” a voice speaks into your ear.

“calm down, or they’ll sedate you,” it says, and you finally stop screaming. you take a breath.

clench your fists. unclench. stretch. repeat.

it takes you another minute to calm down enough to realize the person holding you is simon.

the doctor is being carried away now, and you notice it’s johnny and kyle carrying her. you notice john is standing to your left, eyes full of sympathy and guilt as he looks at you.

“get,” you huff, reaching down to slap at the arms circling your middle. “off me.”

simon releases you instantly. you don’t hesitate to put distance between the two of you. a few feet, at least. he just stands there, eyes watching with an expression you can’t place.

“what happened, love?” john’s voice is a soft rumble as he speaks. he moves a hand toward you, but decides against touching you— even if he only wanted to comfort you.

“I—” you start, glancing down at your hands. they’re bloody again.

“I thought it was—” you try again, but stop yourself.

you thought it was what? thought it was who?

you had heard man’s voice speaking to you. your mind had twisted things— had given you something you wanted to hear, deep down— because it gave you the chance to strike.

it gave you the opportunity to tear apart whichever man from the 141 had been there to check on you.

and you know you had wished it was simon.

john takes a cautious step forward at your silence. “let’s get you somewhere private, yeah? somewhere to cool down.”

the fire licking at your veins has subsided in favor of the chill of shame. of terror at what you’ve done— what you’ve done to the one person you had on your side. the person who was truly on your side.

you don’t fight this time. you give a nod, then solemnly follow him down the corridor. simon falls in behind you.

john takes you to his office, opening the door and ushering you inside. you move without protest, stepping into the dark room.

the two men enter behind you, john flicking on the light while simon pulls the door shut. you would’ve laughed at the scenario if you were in your right mind.

but you weren’t.

you weren’t okay. you knew that you weren’t, at least physically, but what you just did…

there was no way you were going to be transferred now. you doubted you would’ve even before you attacked the doctor.

you’re going to be discharged. you understand why.

but it hurts. this is your job, your life. years and years on the battlefield don’t prepare you for life off of it.

“love?”

john’s voice brings you back to the present. you realize you’ve been standing in the center of the room, unmoving and unblinking.

you feel simon’s hard gaze on your back. you want to cry.

how did things ever get this fucked up?

“im fine.” you say, not bothering to turn around. you didn’t trust yourself to keep it together if you faced them.

“you’re not,” john states, and you roll your eyes.

“im not talking about this with you,” you bite out, circling your arms around yourself. “either of you.”

“you should at least talk to someone, love— this isn’t healthy.”

“please, stop.” you tell him, but john was never good at taking orders. he gave them, not followed them.

“you hated the therapist, and you haven’t spoken to anyone else since… everything.” he continues.

“stop, john,” you try again.

“you need to let it out, love. we’re here—”

you spin around then, fists dropping to your sides. “for the love of god, john, shut the fuck up.”

that stuns him into silence, eyes slightly widened and mouth agape as he looks at you. simon doesn’t move from his position near the door.

“you are the last people i would ever fucking talk to! I don’t even want to be talking to you right now, but you won’t stop trying. trying to talk to me, trying to make it up, trying to wriggle your way back into my good graces.”

you pause, sucking in a breath. “johnny must’ve relayed the message, and that’s why you’ve back off a little— but one wrong fucking move and you’re swooping again! you aren’t my dad, you aren’t my lover, you aren’t my friend, and you’re sure as hell not my fucking captain anymore.”

“so please, john, leave me be. the four of you have done enough.”

the room is silent for a beat, then two. then three. and then simon takes a step forward, removes his balaclava, and looks you square in the face.

he doesn’t open his mouth to speak, so you take the chance to.

“don’t start with me, simon. just don’t.”

“the note,” he says. “you read it.”

you just look at him, a disbelieving scoff leaving your mouth as you give a nod. “yes, I read your fucking note. and I saw the stupid flowers, too, after seeing everything else you wrecked. tell me, how long did you wait after you tied me up to tear it all apart?”

he just watches you. you want to scream.

the note flashes back into your mind.

‘hope you can understand.’

“does it make you feel better, thinking what you did was right?” you ask him.

“I wouldn’t have done it differently.” simon tells you.

you clench your fists. unclench. stretch.

breathe in, breathe out.

“and if the roles were reversed,” you said, watching him. “if you were in my position, would you have expected me to do what you did?”

“yes.” he says, without hesitation.

“you’re unbelievable,” you huff. “is that how little I meant to you? all that time, wasted?”

“that’s not what I said.” he tells you, and you shake your head.

“no, but it’s what you meant.” anger is bubbling up again. you feel overwhelmed; shame and fury battling inside you. the ringing building up in your ears again, emerging from the background.

you can’t do this.

“what i meant is what i said.” he takes another step forward. “you’re just too damn stubborn to listen, always have been.”

“just go, simon.” you tell him. “both of you. go.”

“I wouldn’t change what I did,” he says again. “to protect my team, my family, I would do whatever it takes.”

you bite your tongue. you don’t want to keep arguing with him. he was an unmovable object— there was no way to reason with him.

“im not sorry it happened.” he speaks. “i did what i thought i had to do. what i had to do to make sure my team was safe.”

“and you should understand that, considering this team is all you have, too.”

you don’t respond— and even if you were going to, a knock on the door breaks the tense silence in the room.

johnny pops his head in, his eyes full of concern. “doc’s alrigh’.” he says, his gaze catching yours. “jus’ some bumps and bruises. she’ll be jus’ fine.”

“and she uh— said she’s not pressin’ charges or anythin’. says she still expects to see ya in a few days for your check-up.”

that’s what breaks you.

a tear slips from your eye, falling onto your cheek. another follows, then another, and you’re sobbing as you fall to the floor of price’s office.

the three men are staring, but no one makes any move to comfort you.

probably wise, considering what you did to the last person who tried.

you faintly register the click of the door as it shuts again. you don’t look up— your head in your hands as you cry.

cry about what you’ve done, what you’ve lost. mourn your career and your family and your love for the man who doesn’t regret what he did.

unbeknownst to you, simon is the only one still left in the room. his steps are silent as he approaches you— leaving only a foot of space between your bodies now.

he watches you as he sinks to the ground across from you, his long legs folded over each other, the fingers of his left hand twitching as he finds himself wanting to reach for you.

he still cares for you. his feelings for you were what made him do what he did in the first place.

the love he felt for you, twisting into betrayal and hurt and agony. fueling his actions, his desire to hear you admit your wrongdoings.

passion made people dangerous. passion in love, passion in rage. it was a fine line, and simon had crossed it.

he understood what this meant for you. recalls the conversation he had with price earlier— how laswell was planning for your discharge instead of your transfer.

this was the end of your time with them, and in the military. the hands of the 141, damaging one of their own beyond repair.

he finds himself mourning alongside you, then. mourning what was and what could’ve been.

what should have been.

“im sorry for what we did to you,” he says, but it comes out as a whisper that you don’t hear.

“im sorry.”

thank you all again for your patience! I plan on tying this little series up soon :)

as a reminder, I no longer do taglists. if you want to be notified when I post, follow @troiastitans and turn on notifications. I only reblog my works there.

I hope you all enjoyed :)

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pacifythots · 4 months

Note

edging the windbre boys ; not requested :]

[!] ON THE EDGE.

ⓘ BRINGING THEM TO THE EDGE JUST TO STOP?! gn!reader — smut. includes. sakura, suo, nirei, kaji, umemiya, hiragi, togame, + choji. blow/hand job, ribbons, cock ring, teasing, whining, + edging. aged up 18+ ; now that im writing this, im thinking abt a dry cumming ver...sorry, ive been writing a lot of smut but its the week before my period. im is ovulating, so um...take this <3

"I CAN'T TAKE IT, PLEASE!!" or, SCREAMING FOR MERCY. he's whining, begging, repeating your name and a phrase over and over and over again. his breath is stuttering and a couple of tears may fall down his face. like- he's legit going to pass out soon from the edging.

SAKURA is shaking. in all honesty, he can go in both this category and the 'JUST ... A MESS.' category, however, what sets him in this one is his begging. he's sobbing, a blushing mess, pleading with you like he'll fucking die if he doesn't get to cum. like, "pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease," is leaving his lips. his legs, his whole body is shaking at this point and he's begging to cum. like- to the point of babbling he's begging to cum, telling you how good it feels, and mumbling to himself that he can't last any longer. GOD FORBID, you put a cock ring on him? girl- he's gone.

CONT. at a certain point, because he's no pitiful, you decide to take mercy. you're tongue licking a long stripe up his length, hand pumping him earnestly. your tongue circles around the head and he cums, hard. like- a big ass load is dumped into your as he's hunched over and twitching from the relief he got.

"OOH, YOU'RE GONNA GET IT." or, HE'S ACTIVELY SEEKING REVENGE. this man isn't as much of a mess, in fact, he's doing everything in his power to contain his moans and such. he's trying to be somewhat tough and maintain his composure but he's grunting about paying you back. his hands are definitely tied behind his back, though that doesn't stop him from trying to get out of it.

TOGAME is seething. like- he loves it but he cannot wait to have you over his lap, fingering you and stopping until you get the feeling he's getting right now. he's breathing rough, "ooh, baby. im gonna get you back," he hisses, "i—ngh-oh—fucking promise." his arms might be tied, but he's trying to hard to hump your mouth, seeking any release that could push him over the edge. you'd have put a cock ring on him to get him to stop (hear me out though, a cock cage on togame?). regardless, he's grunting, his abs flexing and relaxing, thighs tensing and shaking, and his toes curled as he swears up and down he'll get you back.

SUO is breathing heavy. he's purposefully trying not to say something, so nothing you can tease him with slips out. unfortunately for him, a grunt that transforms into a whimper has your lips coming off of his cock with a pop! he looks down to see a cocky expression on your face. he huffs with a chuckle, "ooh, mm—damn—when we're done me and you are gonna have a- ngh- very long talk." suo bites his lip to prevent his whimpers from slipping, though he doesn't help himself by watching what you're doing. tying that pretty bright pink ribbon at the base of his cock, he's not against it. he has no problem with "feminine" things, but did you really have to tie it that tight? "hayato! you're staining my ribbon!" suo has to fight himself not to say something, he only chuckles, a hiss leaving his lips. oh, you are so going to get it.

KAJI is literally about to fight you. no bull. of course, being the person he is, he isn't allowed to use his hands. though he wants to, he can't shove your face full of his cock. his tongue swirls around his lollipop in a futile attempt to distract him from the warmth of your hand around him. "damn it! i am—fu-ucking—get- getting you back for this!" his his hips lift urgently off of the bed you've got him tied to. his legs are shaking; dazed and low-lidded eyes staring down at you as is orgasm builds, only to fall off at the last second. he nearly growls, swearing he'll get you back (in his head).

CONT. he isn't geting relief (none of them). he's normally a man with a lot of confidence, and yet, he's fucking trembling because he can't cum? i mean sure, he's out to get you later, but it's completely worth it to watch his eyes roll back into his skull, his hips practically convulsing, and thick ropes of cum shoot from his tip and stain his stomach. plus, the breathy "fuck" nearly has you doing the same.

MR. CAN'T SPEAK, or HE'S REALLY FOCUSED. the man is nearly silent. he either doesn't want to make a noise, or he's like- breathless. he may be huffing, eyebrows furrowed so deeply he'll cause permanent wrinkles. he's looking down at you, but he's more so focusing on not losing his shit because he can't cum. like- "fuckfuckfuck ... " is going through his head while he fights internal demons, and you. how dare you look at him with those pretty eyes?!

HIRAGI strikes me as a quiet man in bed, especially when something like this is happening. his core is tense; his face is tense. eyebrows knitted, eyes screwed shut, jaw clenched, and thighs flexed. he tries so hard not to—to which he fails—though at some point, he genuinely can't. he's moaned and groaned, even whimpered, and now a sound can't come out of his mouth. he's so close to losing it he's lost his voice to beg or whine. "damn—" he croaks, body trembling.

CONT. hes another one where your mercy is his salvation. he just looks so cute- why would make him suffer more? its not until he's allowed to cum does his let out a string of pretty noises, sweat dripping down his forehead and body shaking.

JUST ... A MESS, or SELF EXPLANITORY. he's losing his fucking shit. this man is damn near wailing because he can't cum. he can't get the release he wants and he's losing his shit. fat globs of tears spill down his cheeks, there may even be snot. he's barely coherent, babbling pleads and jumbled strings of words to get you to let him cum.

NIREI is the one literally about to die from being denied. honestly, the display has you wanting to stop. he's sobbing, his voiced cracked, snot dripping from his nose, and body shaking like a leaf. he barely tell you "sorry," or "please," let alone fully beg. his words are mindless babble, strings of saliva falling from his lips, a web of them shown in his mouth. he keens and whines, "puh- plea- plea-ease!" when i say he's vibrating in his spot, i mean it. hes is NAWT the type of person to be able to handle this type of sexual activity (you can't overstim him either).

CHOJI is ... something. i see choji as someone who isn't too interested in sex, though when it happens he's sooo sensitive. and ridiculously whiny. like- the man will not shut up. he's whining your name, pleading, whispering to himself, cursing—anything. at some point tears start to form and he gets shocked at the waves of pleasure that appear and disappear. he almost gets mad until your tongue starts to work him. his eyes get low-lidded and his body relaxes, it feels to him as if a wave is inches from sweeping him away, and then you stop. and then he sobs. and then he gets mad. then you get back at it. cycle repeats. "i- urgh! can't- can't—awh!" he's legit a fucked up mess, whining and crying like a girl, convulsing and breathing heavy as hell.

CONT. you have to let him at this point, he's not surviving a minute longer. his cock is raw and stiff from your strokes; at one moment, you thought he had accidentally came because of how much pre-cum seeped from the tip. he almost passed out once he cums, that's how much he needed it.

IT DEPENDS or THE OUTLIER WHO'S MULTIPLE. he can range from sobbing and crying for you, to telling himself not to cum, to being a complete and utter mess. it genuinely depends on how he feels that day, what happened. is he letting lose? is he still up tight? does he need to blow off some steam? it really depends on his mental state. he could go from

UMEMIYA grunts. his breaths are shaky, chest stuttering. he's laughing at both you and himself, he's certainly having fun with the moment. though, his body is being a little fickle. one second he's too hot, he's about to burn up, then the next its calm, though there's that painful pleasure in his groin from being denied. he laughs, "it looks good on me, it's—fuck—like y'r openin' a- pre-present." he looks down at the bow you've tied around his cock. of course, he asked for it. it looks better than he thought. he lets out a shaky breath, core tensing as he tries to keep his noises inside. though, to no avail, as he's a naturally loud person. his grunting and groaning fills the room, tears brimming at his eyes, and saliva pooling on his bottom lip. he bites his lip, chuckling, "fuck—y'r making me lose it!" he moans, "ooh, im gettin' you back."

CONT. he broke from his restraints, a stupid mess and all and forced your mouth to stay lodged on him until he finished shooting ropes down your throat. he watches in amusement as you cough, looking down at the mess he's been made of. he 100% got you back seconds later.

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qtboni · 1 year

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hai bonni <33 this is my first reqs 4u and im sry in advance if it's kinda of cringe 😭 (i came here from yr simon fic btw nd i luv ur writinggg) wht do u think abt simon being tired as hell coming back home from his mission and literally melts into reader's arms?

HELLO DEAR ANON ! thanks for requesting and no, it's not cringe dw i LOVE it. also ty for loving my writing that literally made my day sm >< enjoy this!

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Reader

OVERVIEW: Simon melting into your arms after a rough day at work <//3

C/W: Entirely fluff + kisses

Simon had a long day at work and was feeling tired and stressed. He started his car and drove home, feeling the tension in his shoulders and back. As he pulled into his driveway, he saw you standing on the porch, waiting for him.

You smiled and walked towards him, your arms outstretched. Simon stumbled out of his car and into your arms, letting out a deep sigh of relief. He felt the tension in his body melt away as you held him close, your warmth and comfort surrounding him.

"Welcome home, Simon," you whispered, resting your head on his chest.

"Thanks." Simon replied, wrapping his arms around you and taking a deep breath.

The warmth of your body against his, your breathing against his ear, all of it was like a balm for his soul. He let go of the tension in his muscles and let himself melt into you. Your warmth and love surrounded him, making him feel safe and protected.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, feeling you hug him tightly.

"I missed you," he breathed, his voice barely audible. "Missed you so much."

"I missed you too, Si'," you replied, your voice full of love.

For a moment, nothing else mattered but your embrace and the love that you shared. The weight of the world seemed to fade away, replaced by a sense of peace and contentment. And in that moment, he knew that everything was going to be alright.

"Hey," you said, leading him towards the house. "Let's go inside, okay?"

You helped him inside, guiding him to the couch, where you could hear him release another deep sigh.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" you asked, sitting beside him. "Food? Um, what about some tea? I think that will help you loosen u-"

Simon reached for your hand and gently squeezed it. "Just you being here is enough, love." he replied.

"I'm always here for you, Simon," you said, giving his hand a squeeze back.

You leaned into his embrace, pressing a soft kiss against his stubble-roughened cheek. The gesture was gentle, yet full of meaning. Simon felt a warmth spreading from his cheek to the rest of his body, your love surrounding him like a blanket.

He closed his eyes and savored the moment, letting himself be fully present in your embrace. He could hear your heartbeat against his chest, and the sensation was soothing and calming.

You reached out and pulled his balaclava up, revealing his mouth. A quick peck and his face lit up with a smile, his eyes sparkling with joy.

You watched as he became more and more beaming, his mouth turning into a grin as you removed the balaclava. "There he is," you said softly, your voice filled with affection. You giggled, teasing him as you added, "My little baby soldier."

Simon's eyes were fixed on you, filled with a sense of pure adoration and love. He was grateful to have someone who accepted him for who he was, especially coming home from a long and difficult mission.

"Baby soldier?" He asked.

"Yeah, well, aren't you one, my love?"

"I am so not a baby soldier."

"Oh, damn you're right." You replied with faux surprise. You leaned into him, cupping his cheeks and squeezing them together.

Then you added, whispering as you do so, "You're my little baby lieutenant, aren't you, Si'?"

You feel Simon inhale and see him averting his gaze. You giggled at him and kissed both of his cheeks.

Simon cannot bring himself to retort any longer as he completely melts into your kisses and embrace. If you said he's a little baby lieutenant, then for god's sake, he is.

It was a moment of pure serenity, of pure love. And Simon knew that he would always cherish it, a beacon of solace in the midst of the chaos of the world.

And then, as if driven by an instinctive need to express the depth of his emotions, he pulled you closer, holding you in his arms, his touch firm and passionate.

"I love you," he murmured, his voice low and hoarse. But there was no question about the sincerity of his words, the longing in his eyes as he looked at you. You could feel his heart pounding against your chest, could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin.

"I love you too," you replied, your own voice just as genuine. And with those words, Simon knew that everything was going to be alright.

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lovelytaez · 2 months

Text

𝑴𝒐𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒄𝒌 (teaser)

“𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘨𝘰 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘦. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘺.”

Genre: romance, smut, a bit of crack, angst

Pairing: biker!heeseung x fem!reader

Synopsis: Dating your boyfriend wasn't easy with such disapproving and strict parents. They took one look at his bike, leather jacket, dyed hair, and piercings and gave you an automatic no. That didn't stop you though. You were in love with him, and he loved you and that was all that mattered.

est wc: 10k-18k?

release date: tba but im hoping in a week or two😥

a/n - I might change this a bit if I don't like it but this is it for now! Reblogs and likes are appreciated! <3 comment to be added to taglist <:

➡️ snippet!

teaser wc: 1k

teaser undercut!

Dating your boyfriend was one of the best things you’ve ever done. Despite his disheveled and rough appearance, he was a sweetheart.

The day you became his girlfriend was probably the best day of your life if not the best. Not only was he good-looking, treated you well, and loved you, but he had a fun side too. He believed you only live once and you should live it how you want.

You still lived with your parents because it was close to your campus, ten-minute walk tops. One night, when Heeseung walked you home and kissed you on the forehead before running away, your parents went ballistic as they saw the romantic scene unfold through the window.

Your mom and dad took one look at his bike, piercings, and dyed hair and thought he was 'irresponsible' and a ‘heartbreaker’ and a man ‘who wouldn't be able to take care of you.’

You were never allowed to date in middle school or high school, as far as your parents said, ‘Live under our roof, live under our rules.’ You were good. You had good grades, hung out with sweet girls like yourself, and had a good future ahead of you.

Heeseung was your opposite. He wasn’t as keen on attending lessons and rather spent most of his free time at the garage that he and his friends owned, fixing up his bike.

He only went to class for you. To see you, sit beside you, to kiss you in between boring words the prof droned about. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do in life, certainly not become a lawyer or a doctor like his parents. He loved racing. The thrill, the adrenaline, the risk; it made him feel like he could do anything in the world.

Tonight, he was going to pick you up at eleven to take you to his race, after weeks of begging for him to take you. You've never been but he was known for winning every race, or so his friends said.

You were getting ready, wearing black jeans and a white tank top, clipping in some hoops into your earlobes.

While you were getting ready, there was a knock on your window. "Hey, sunshine," he lightly tapped on the window, waiting for you to let him in.

A smile spread across your face when you saw him, his crimson red hair, honey skin, and signature leather jacket. You opened the window, kissing him as soon as you did. “You're here early,” you said against his lips, as he looked up at you.

“I couldn’t wait to see my girl, is that a crime?” Your boyfriend teased, hopping inside your room. “Of course not, I missed you too, Hee,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“That’s good, baby. Are you wearing that? You’ll be cold,” he said softly, taking off his jacket and putting it on your shoulders. ‘I can find a jacket or something- it's fine-” you said, as you stood in front of the full-length mirror that hung off your closet.

Heeseung had his hands on your shoulders, looking at you through the mirror and kissing your temple. “Babe, it's okay. Wear it. Let everyone know you’re mine.” His voice was husky, laced with possessiveness, as he helped you slip your arms into the leather sleeves.

“What about you?” you asked with a frown filled with guilt.

“Don't worry about me. I have like ten more, now let's get out of here before I push you on the bed and fuck your brains out,” he said in a joking tone, though he was serious.

Seeing you in his jacket, your smaller frame making the jacket look oversized, the sleeves longer than your arms, it was the cutest he’d ever seen and he just wanted to protect you from every bad thing in the world.

“Okay, let me just grab my bag,” you said, scurrying over to your closet to retrieve your little Bambi backpack. You turned back to see his face, his lips pursed as he tried not to laugh. “Don’t laugh,” you pouted, as you put your phone, a small bag of chips you stole from the pantry, your AirPods, and your keys into the small bag.

“No, no, it’s cute. It suits you, babe.” He chuckled, jutting his chin for you to put it on. “Shall we, princess?” The red-haired boy asked, extending his hand to you.

Taking your smaller hand into his, he swung his legs out your window, leading you out with him. Luckily for him, your room had a roof below and a tree beside it, which was his signature pathway for sneaking into the house to see you.

He stood on the roof, helping you out of your room and onto the shingles, holding your hand comfortingly as if it were to tell you he wouldn't let go.

He guided you to the tree, making a jump onto the thick branch of the tree beside the roof, whispering, “Slow, slow, I've got you, sweetheart,” softly before you made the jump. You’ve escaped countless times without worry, but his words comforted your heart in a way no one else ever has.

He jumped down the tree, his boots stomping against the concrete of your driveway. “Jump,” he smiled, holding out his arms to catch you. You slowly slipped onto a lower branch, letting go of the trunk and jumping into his embrace.

Heeseung caught you, your arms clinging around his shoulders. “Told you I’ve got you, baby,” he murmured, tucking in his chin and pressing a kiss to your temple.

He set you down on the ground, leading you over to his bike parked on the curb. “Safety first,” Heeseung chuckled, handing you his helmet as you snugly put it on your head. It was a bit big on you, your pout covered by the chin strap.

He helped you adjust the tightness, ensuring it wasn't loose on your head. “There. All set, gorgeous?” Heeseung asked, pressing a kiss to your flushed cheek. You smiled with your eyes and nodded. ‘That’s my girl,” he whispered, lifting your hips to help you onto his bike.

“Spread your legs for me. In a nonsexual way,” he grinned, showing off pearly whites as you giggled, sitting on the leather seat of his bike. He nestled in front of you, his large frame shadowing over you as you wrapped your arms around his waist.

“Ready?” Heeseung asked, glancing over his shoulder to look at your approval. He flashed another pretty smile as he revved up the engine, pulling out of the curb and on the road.

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