#like my fucking emotions are getting fucked too

[sweetinsaniiity]

Makeshift Chemistry

► 𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 - obsessive!mafia!Seonghwa x fem!reader◄ ► 𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎/𝙰𝚄 - mafia au, yandere trope, power imbalance, suspense, thriller, crime, Seonghwa is extremely !obsessed and !possessive, dark romance, depictions of Seonghwa's slow descend to madness, so he's kinda !psychotic, true insanity (like, I made him pretty mentally deranged here), kidnapping, imprisonment, escape from captivity, toxic form of love, emotional and mental torment, restraint (via handcuffs), forced love, angst, plot twist (stay away from the comments to avoid spoilers!) ◄ ► 𝚁𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐/𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 - PG-18+ so MDNI!!!, murder and extreme violence (semi-graphic) but not towards reader, drugged (non-graphic), consensual-hate sex, dom!Hwa, but whiny!Hwa, mommy kink, hard-fast-rough, standing sex, handjob, degradation, gunplay, fear play, oral, cum eating, missionary, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, forced orgasms (on Seonghwa's end), multiple creampies, baby trapping implications, no protection (DO NOT DO THIS!!!!), just super kinky lol◄ ► 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 - 28.7K words (this had to be this long sorry) ◄ ► 𝚂𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 - You loved Park Seonghwa, until you found out that he was a Mafia Lord, and you didn't want to get involved, so you left him. But Seonghwa wasn't going to let you go that easily, because his unhealthy obsession with you knew no bounds. Soon enough, this obsession is marked by violence and manipulation when he kidnaps and imprisons you just so you could love him back. You barely escape with your life, but what about the feelings in your heart that were trapping you? How were you supposed to love Seonghwa when he’s slowly losing his mind and sanity in the guise of loving you too much? ◄ ► 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 - PLEASE READ AT YOUR DISCRETION. There will be extreme instances of how mental instability affects love, and Y/N isn't clean. Do not read if you're uncomfortable, it's not mandatory even if you enjoy my work. Prioritize your mental stability, and I'll see you in my next work. If you do choose to read it, enjoy! Fic inspired by Chappell Roan's Coffee.◄ ► 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 - @0rangemilk @ginger-mingi @ruubyrubes @oddracha @jaytheatiny @roxannecos @juicy-red @cheolliehugs @sunnysidesins @jjongbearshoney @midnightrebel1028 @xomakara @lovetaroandtaemin◄

‘Coffee?' -Park Seonghwa

You bit your lip apprehensively, the phone in your hands almost slipping with how lax your grip on it had become. What was once your lifeline to the world - the window to what was beyond your walls - was now the bane of your existence.

A loud shrill cuts you off of your thoughts. The phone was now ringing. You practically jumped out of your skin at the sound, and in a panic, you unwittingly pressed the red button.

"Fuck," you hissed, not fully intending to reject the call. Well, not entirely, anyway. You didn't mean to immediately do it, your nerves always failed you at the last minute. 

You were back to biting your bottom lip, but this time, you bit on them with twice the anxiety and twice the strength since they were actively bleeding out in between your teeth. You jumped out once more when your phone dinged.

‘Do not ignore me. Get dressed. We’re getting coffee.’ -Park Seonghwa

Ignoring his incessant calls and messages shouldn't have been this difficult and stressful. You could feel your sanity slowly slipping away from you every single time you'd leave another text from Seonghwa unanswered.

This prick, you thought, gritting your teeth so hard, the grating sound of it made your head hurt. You haphazardly threw your phone on your desk, not caring if it gets smashed or not. It would be better if it did, honestly. That way, you’d have no contact with him left, and his control over you would vanish. 

And in that way, you wouldn’t be tempted to see him over and over again. 

It wasn’t a fault of his own sometimes. There was always this urge in you to see how he was, what he’s doing, and if he was the same man you left a couple of months ago. 

You bit your lip, looking down on your outfit. It was a simple white button-up shirt, some jeans, and a pair of heels. It wasn’t a choice of yours, either; Seonghwa loved elegance. He would make you change, anyway, and waste your time. 

You’ll meet up with him one more time, and tell him that it would be the last time. You’ll meet up with him one more time, and tell yourself that it would be the last time. 

The cafe was empty when you got there, unsurprisingly. You scoffed as you sat down, it was such a Seonghwa thing to do. A barista even escorted you to your seat, it was slightly embarrassing. This was a cafe, for God’s sake, not a fine dining restaurant. You shook your head as you knew this was one of his games. He loved seeing you embarrass yourself, especially since he was the one embarrassing you because even in that aspect, he wanted control over you. 

God forbid someone else did it for you, however. They’d be dead by deadlight. You swallowed those thoughts away, they weren’t metaphorical at all. 

Seconds passed by, minutes ticked by, and almost an hour into arriving, Seonghwa still hadn’t shown himself. You gave the poor barista a nervous smile of your own, but inside, you were seething. You tentatively looked outside from the glass walls, you knew he was here. You could feel it. 

And yet, he was nowhere to be seen at the same time. You began to feel uncomfortable, tugging at your collar, playing with your nails, sighing every five minutes, the likes. But the worst part of it was that you knew he was enjoying this. He got off on your discomfort.

You wouldn’t be surprised if he was hiding in plain sight, his eyes never leaving yours as he savoured all the most miniscule of your expressions that told him exactly what you were thinking without him even opening his mouth to ask you. 

Just as you were about to stand up and leave, the door opened, a light trinkle resounding from the charm attached on top of it to signify someone’s entrance. He did this all the time - reel you back in when you’re about to pull away. You hated it, mostly because you let him treat you like this. 

Two men entered first, both of which you are very familiar with. They greeted you with a subtle nod of their head, avoiding eye contact, before choosing to sit in the farthest part of the quaint café. 

And there he was in all his majestic glory. His strides were sure, eyes trained on you like a hawk, pausing to tilt his head at you as if he was examining you, but you knew better - he was challenging you to move. 

That was how Park Seonghwa - he demanded attention. The way he would swallow the entire room with just his shadow, alone, never failed to stun you into silence. He was a siren’s song, beckoning anyone around him to look and listen with just one word from his mouth. Hell, most of the time, he didn’t even have to say anything. 

But the siren’s song was just that; a siren. A subtle smirk graces upon his lips, and the next thing you knew, he was making his way to you. You watched his hands pull the chair in front of you, those sinful hands once held you, bought you comfort as they caressed you. Now, all they did was strangle you into suffocating, squeezing your soul, stealing your essence drop by drop. 

“I don’t think meeting out here is wise, Mr. Park,” you said, cutting straight to the point. It was more so for yourself, the longer you stayed with him, the weaker your resolve gets. 

You refused to break eye contact with him, and perhaps, that was the worst part of all of this. He was still breathtaking. That face once made you kneel, and it still can. 

“Seonghwa, my love,” he corrected, tutting at you like he was endearingly scolding you. It made you sick. “You know my name, why won’t you say it?”

You bit your lip as you weighed your options down. There was always that choice to disobey him, it wasn’t difficult, but the mafia lord had never made anything easy for you. “I don’t think meeting out here is wise, Seonghwa.”

You watched as his bottom lip quivered, the way he attempted to hold his grin was nothing new to you. He loved it when you played his little games, he was more than pleased with it. Seonghwa raised his hand, snapping it to signal the nervous barista who was just waiting. 

“Nothing has ever been wiser,” he replied, staring the barista down as they shakily placed Seonghwa’s coffee in front of him as well as yours, except that you got a strawberry shortcake on the side, your favourite. 

You didn’t have any appetite, and he knew it, you never did every time you went out to meet him, yet he didn’t care. You mustered up the courage to ask him, anyway. “What is it that you want, Seonghwa?”

He watched you push your plate away with a small frown on his lips. “Why aren’t you wearing the ring I gave you?” Seonghwa questioned, ignoring yours. 

“Why should I? I’m not yours,” you took a deep breath, whispering your next words. “Not anymore, at least.”

“Nonsense,” he brushed off, pausing to take a sip from his cup before looking you dead in the eye. “You were always mine. You just don’t want to accept it.”

Indeed, he was a siren. He never stopped until the words he sang rang true even though you both knew it wasn’t the case. Seonghwa was once your siren, and now you regret ever being enthralled by his songs.

“I want to see you wearing it the next time we go out,” he declared, referring to the ring. He paused, a thought crossing his mind. “Do you not like it, though? Is that why? Would you like me to get another one?”

You tried not to flinch when he held your hand, lifting it to give it a small kiss. It burned, yet you couldn’t pull away. “Such delicate fingers,” he chuckled. “No jewelry can compare to its beauty, my dove.”

“Seonghwa,” you sighed tiredly, pulling away. His words still affect you, it was hard not to let them get to you, but it has to stop.

“It’s fine,” he interjected. He poked his tongue on his inner cheek, displeased at how averse you were to his touch.  “No spherical metal will bind you to me. We both know you’re mine, anyway.”

You sighed once more, this time, with a tremble. “There will be no next time,” you mumbled, clearing your throat from the nerves clogging it. “I came here to tell you that I-I can’t do this anymore with you, we have to stop meeting so we could both move on…”

It was the most difficult thing you had to say, minus when you told him you were leaving him, but you had to for your own sake. He didn’t say anything, his face had no emotion, except for his twitching left eye. You gulped, that was not a good sign. He did not like that at all. 

No words were said for a while. You almost broke down and took it back, but no, it was better to end this now than suffer the consequences later, because you might not end up leaving him at all. 

“It’s funny,” he began, voice leveled and calm. They were too calm. “Most people give out everything and anything just to have a five minute conversation with me.”

He took another sip of coffee, his long tongue darting out from his mouth slowly swiping his upper teeth as he looked on. “But you,” he continued. “You push me away when I make a point to crawl down to you unlike the others who have to climb up to me. You are a tough nut to crack, Y/N.”

You gripped the table in front of you, your knuckles pale and white. Anger rolled off of him like waves and for a second, you were terrified that he was going to explode on the spot. The way he uttered your name was a threat in itself.  He sets the cup down without a sound, letting out a small chuckle. 

“You’re hungry, aren’t you?” Seonghwa asked softly, all traces of anger gone from his tone. “Here, dove.”

You shut your eyes tight. His change in attitude scared you out of anything he has ever done, and Seonghwa was a violent man. Not towards you, never towards you, but he was a destructive person to be with. He was a psychopath. 

“I-I don’t want to eat, I’m good,” you squeaked, shaking your head when he took a piece of the cake and tried to push the fork into your mouth to feed you. 

“Come on, doveling, eat this. It’s very yummy,” he gently coaxed, pushing the fork slightly until it was touching your lips. “Say ah, baby, I’ll feed you,” he smiled.

It was a sweet gesture, and if the situation was different, you would’ve cooed at how cute Seonghwa looked. In your peripheral vision, even his bodyguards looked appalled at their mafia lord’s gesture. Seonghwa ruled everything, he owned this city, and everybody licked the soles of his shoes and worshiped the ground he walked on. 

But here he was, feeding you with cake. 

You turned your head again like a petulant child, refusing to eat anything that came from his hands. “I really don’t want to.”

He frowned. You watched as his hand started to shake, but you knew it wasn’t because he was tired of holding the fork up. “One bite? I know you’ll like it.”

“No, please—-“

“Open your fucking mouth.”

There it was. The way he demanded was anything but, his eyes were half-lidded with malice, the monotonous tone in which he spoke terrifying you more than if he raised his voice or grabbed your hair to force the cake down on your throat. His despondent stare penetrated through you, combusting your insides on the spot with how fiery it was. He was angry, you made him angry. Seonghwa cannot be angry. 

You gulped, parting your lips slightly. It was all it took for him to forcefully part them with the fork and roughly shoved the cake in your mouth. You choked when the tip of the fork almost hit the back of your throat, coughing a bit before you decided to swallow. Tears collected on the sides of your eyes, but you forced yourself to smile and nod at him. 

“You’re right,” you coughed again. “I-It’s yummy.”

His arm retracted, his eyes not once leaving your trembling form. “One more,” he ordered, tone clipped. It had a veil of threat looming over the words as they left his tongue.

You flinched when he cut another piece, the clank of the fork when it hit the plate, echoing in your head. It was reminiscent of what you hear in your head before  Seonghwa’s patience snapped. He was a time-bomb; you never knew what made him tick, but you knew that he was destined to explode somehow. 

He grabbed a napkin then wiped the sides of your lips. “You should be more careful, dove,” he chided, voice lowered, clouded with sinister intent. “Wouldn’t want you messy now, would we?”

You quickly shook your head in response. “That’s a good girl,” he smiled, his words kind and gentle as if nothing had happened, but you knew better. He lies through his teeth. 

If you didn’t love him, it would have been fine. 

The sigh that escaped his deceitful lips was long and slow as if his brain needed to process what just happened. The screeching sound of his chair hit your ears, and he was sitting beside you before you knew it. 

“I sincerely apologize, doveling,” he whispered, his voice breaking and cracking halfway. He lifted a hand to touch you, only for the same hand to fall back down neatly on his lap. “I-I just missed you a lot.”

You felt your heart split in half inside your chest, you didn’t want him anymore, but it didn’t mean you liked seeing him like this. However, deep in your gut, you knew that something was inherently wrong. You just didn’t know what. 

“Think about what I said, please,” you appealed, scooting your behind away from him to create a gap between the two of you.  For a split second, his lip twitches.

He looks up at you, hurt coating his entire features. “I implore you to think about it. I don’t want to completely lose you,” he pleaded. He jutted his lips out, doing everything he can for you to look at him with pity. 

You were weak. You were a weak, weak person. Seonghwa pulled you to him, enveloping his arms all over your form as your chin laid on top of his shoulder to hug him back. To your left, was the glass panel that separated the cafe from the outside. It reflected both you and Seonghwa’s embrace. 

The hug looked serene, intimate, to the unassuming eye. Your heart dropped to your feet as you watched Seonghwa’s expression morph from loving, apologetic, and sincere, to something that can only be described as demonic and corrupted. His eyes grew wide with madness, rolling at the back of his head as he tried not to crush in his arms then and there, his lips stretched towards his ears like a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

“Are you going to force me to forgive you?” You asked,  tears falling from your eyes before you could stop them. “Are you going to take me?”

He smirked, still looking forward, not knowing that you could see his expressions. “No, well, I could,” he whispered, biting his bottom lip to stop himself from cackling out loud at your stupidity. “But I won’t.”

You were a fool to believe that he would actually be sincere for once. This was his true colour. “You know me well enough where you know what my answer would be, and it’s no.”

It was terrifying how his expressions could change in the blink of an eye. His eyes slowly lost that mirth and instead dropped into the most dangerous glare, “So it seems,” he monotoned, grinding his teeth. “I won’t take you for myself by force, not until you want me to.”

Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. 

You need to get out of here. “And what if I never want you to? Tell me,” you breathed out. 

Your heart leapt out of your chest when his eyes met yours through the reflection of the glass, the grin on his face expanding malevolently. He pulled away, making a point to demean you further by tapping your cheek. 

“And so my manipulation tactics begin,” he smirked, his sharp jawline finding rest above his slender fingers. “Though I don’t think I have to make much effort, you seem to be doing most of the work for me, dove.”

It was true, he got you there. You didn’t have to show up, you didn’t have to answer to his every beck and call, and you didn’t have to stay and wait for him when he humiliated you earlier, but you were still here. Seonghwa wasn’t pointing a gun to your head. 

Not yet, at least. 

“You’re mine,” Seonghwa murmured. “The sooner you accept that, the sooner you’d feel better.”

“But for now,” he stood up, all the grace and elegance in his body oozing out of him. He moved so regal, you had no idea why he even liked you. He offers his hand out. “You should go home. I reckon this meeting took a toll on you.”

You refused his hand and he scoffed, and just like that, he left. Completely alone to your thoughts now, you couldn’t help but breathe out the air you didn’t realize you were holding.

It was that tense, things with Seonghwa were always very intense. He always invoked emotions out of you that you always kept buried inside you, yet you always came back for more. Again, the fault wasn’t fully his own.

You were the one who left him, yet you couldn’t fully leave him. 

As usual, that night was spent with you just thinking about all the things that could’ve been with him. In the end, you weren’t strong enough to tell him that enough was enough with all these games you played with each other. 

He resented you, you knew as much. Seonghwa was a very, very vindictive person - he wasn’t the type to ever let go once crossed. You just never thought that the day would come when all that resentment was directed towards you because he was playing with you, that you knew as much.

It took another two weeks before he contacted you again, and this time, he called you directly. You stared at the number on your phone. You had deleted his number, but that was pretty pointless because you memorized it by heart, anyway. “Hello?”

“Hello, love,” you could hear the smirk in his cocky tone. “Care to have another coffee with me?”

The automatic response you had in your head was, of course, no. Seonghwa was an asshole; he was manipulative, and he was arguably the most toxic person you’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting, but goddamn, does your heart always pull you towards him even when you try very hard to guard it. “I don’t know,” you told him truthfully in the end even though his voice broke down your walls bit by bit. “I told you that we have to stop doing this, aren’t you sick of it?”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment. “You’re right,” he mumbled, surprising you with how genuinely amiable he sounded. “Coffee is overrated. Let’s go to dinner, instead. How about that Italian place downtown?”

You didn’t have high expectations, in fact, you had zero expectations, but you weren’t expecting that at all. “S-Seonghwa,” you sputtered. “T-That’s not what I mean.” “I know,” he chuckled. If you didn’t know him, it would sound like he was genuinely amused by this, but no. It already had a dark undertone to it. “So how about it, love dove? That or we hit the bar next to it, instead. Pick your poison because I’m not asking for your permission.”

It was your turn to stay silent. The last place you wanted to go to was the Italian restaurant. Why?

Because it was where you met Seonghwa - the end of your beginning and the beginning of your end.

“Let’s just do coffee, then. Just like you originally wanted,” you murmured in submission, but he was not pleased with your response.

“That ship has sailed when you couldn’t make up your damn mind,” he said. “The bar, then—”

“N-No! I mean, no, please,” you denied, a bit more defensive than what you would’ve liked to sound. “Dinner, Seonghwa, please, I’ll go to dinner with you…”

“Splendid, I’ll pick you up in an hour,” he agreed. “Why are you avoiding the bar?”

“Because we know where that leads,” you lamented, your voice almost desperate and pleading. “I’ll see you.”

You sighed, hanging up the phone and not bothering to hear what he had to say. You were pretty much terrified of going to the bar with Seonghwa, because then he’ll get you a drink, and that would always lead you in his arms.

The hour was a blur. A year prior, it was your favourite part of the day - getting ready and dolled up for the love of your life, but now, you just wanted to get everything over with. 

You’d also be excited for the car ride, but now, it was just so awkward to be in the car with Seonghwa. Neither of you talked, nor were you interested to spark up a conversation to begin with. The only time you did was when he asked you to hold onto him as you made your way inside the restaurant.

It was impossibly lavish, as expected of Seonghwa’s finer taste in life. It wasn’t for the regular everyday people since everywhere you looked dripped in money, both clean and dirty. However, all this elegance felt oppressive to you

Seonghwa sat across you, his presence filling the entire space. You cowered at his stare, focusing on the food that was being laid out in front of you. His stare never left you even when the waiter asked if their services were still needed. You could feel your hands gripping the stem of the complimentary champagne flute.

Suddenly, he started to laugh softly. You tilted your head to look at him curiously. “You’re very stubborn, dove,” he shook his head. “It would be endearing if I didn’t want to strangle it out of you sometimes.”

Against your better judgment, you took a huge swig out of the champagne, letting the sweetness of it coat your throat. Lord knows you needed a lot of them if you were about to spend time with Seonghwa. “Unluckily for you, I’m not looking for you to change my mind. I’m happy being independent right now.”

It wasn’t the entire truth. You wanted nothing but to lay in his arms like you used to and let him whisper all the sweet nothings in your ear. You grabbed the wine bottle from the ice bucket that was placed near you and poured a hefty amount on its respective wine glass.

In your peripheral vision, it wasn’t hard to see Seonghwa’s irritation - he wasn’t used to being met with resistance  - but even he raised a brow at how much red wine you were planning to drink. He smirked, looks like he didn’t need the bar, after all.

But his smirk dropped when he realized that you had already finished a whole glass and you were on your way to another one. “Alright, that’s enough,” he snatched the glass from you, drinking the whole thing in one go. “I’m not a good person, but don’t insult me like this. I have standards, I don’t want you face-planting on the floor.”

You blinked, the alcohol in your system already hitting you head-on in a possible collision that will be difficult to recover. You couldn’t look away from Seonghwa, and for once, maybe you just wanted to let go and be happy. “Do you want to know why I don’t want to go to a bar, specifically?”

He looked at you expectantly. “It was pointless since I got this,” you giggled, holding up the wine bottle, which was already halfway empty. The glasses were massive, and you were lightweight. “Because we’ll have a drink together, and then you’ll say you want me and that you’re sorry,” you hiccupped. “I know it’ll be a lie.” 

He stood up, rendering you speechless. Whether it was from all the stress culminating inside you or his audacity, you didn’t know. He offered a hand to you. “Come,” Seonghwa softly commanded. 

You finally looked up at him, confused. “W-Where?”

“Home, you silly goose,” he chuckled. He raised a brow when it still didn’t click. “I’m taking you home, little dove.”

Alarm bells started to ring in your head. You were about to shake your head when he stopped you. “I meant your…apartment,” he spat the word with such venom. “I do not approve of it since we have our old house, but I’ll play along for now. Come along before I change my mind.”

It was how you found yourself back in Seonghwa’s car, the food long forgotten, your mind buzzing. You sighed, staring out through the window, just gazing upon the passing distance. A scoff was tickling behind your throat, this was one of those instances where you actually had no choice. Whatever Seonghwa says, goes. 

However, contrary to what he was thinking, you weren’t necessarily afraid of him just snatching you up and forcing you to be with him, not today at least, but you were concerned about something else - something else entirely intimate.

When he insisted that he walk you up to your door, you couldn’t refute it. How could you when he was already walking at the apartment entrance ahead of you as if he knew where he was going?

Little did you know that he actually did. You blanched when he situated himself in front of your door. “Seonghwa,” you gulped, your hands shaking as you tried to open the door. “H-How did you know it was this door?”

When you left him, you tried everything you could to erase his track. It was almost impossible since the mafia owns the entire region, and you couldn’t go far since you had no money. You knew that he knew where you lived but you at least thought that you were safe since you thought you had the upper hand. You cursed under your breath, you shouldn’t have put his obsession with you past him. 

He snatched the keys from your hands, taking the liberty to unlock the door, himself, but when he was about to push it so he could walk in, you quickly held on to his arm tightly. 

“It’s late,” you reasoned out, heart pounding in your chest. This. This was what you were afraid of. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

He rolled his eyes, taking the keys out from the keyhole and tossing them to you. “Is this the way you treat your guests, love?” Seonghwa scoffed, crossing his arms. He sneered. “I thought I taught you better than that.”

You fisted your hands so tightly, your nails left deep indents on your palms. “You made me entertain thieves and murderers,” you gritted your teeth, not relishing in the memory of the many times Seonghwa would make you sit on his lap while he planned his operations in front of the other mafia leaders. 

“Hoshposh, little one, I would’ve shot anybody who looked at you wrong straight to the head,” he said. “Seriously, though, I’m quite thirsty.”

He pulled on his sleeves slightly and set his eyes on the luxurious watch that was wrapped on his wrist. “A glass of water would be great, then I’ll be on my way.”

You frowned, hesitation rolling off of you in waves. Of course, you didn’t want to let Seonghwa in your apartment, but you weren’t exactly heartless. You bit your lip, the sting of it snapping you out of the lies swirling in your own head. Heartlessness had nothing to do with it. 

You looked up at Seonghwa, heat pooling in your lower tummy, regret churning above it. You opened the door wide, resigning to your desires, leaving the remorse for tomorrow. 

Seonghwa smirked, closing the door behind him before pulling you by the arm, his lips smashing against yours in a heated fervor. Kissing him back wasn’t lost on you, this was what he was truly thirsty for, after all - you. 

And the worst of it all, you’d let him drink on no matter how much your head told you ‘no’. Seonghwa wasn’t someone who you could deny, because you can’t. 

The point was to meet him for coffee, his usual excuse, and only for coffee, but alas, nowhere else is safe because every place always led back to him.

A low, breathy moan escapes your throat as he lifts you up in the air, quickly wrapping your legs around his torso. His lips found salvation on your neck and jawline, planting sweet kisses on your skin that set them on fire with every touch. 

“I missed you,” he groaned against your chest as he laid you down on your bed and loomed on top of you, trapping you in between his arms. “God, I fucking missed you, dove…”

Of all the things he’s said tonight, you knew this to be the one where he wasn’t telling lies. You couldn’t even complain when he tore your top to shreds in his impatience to have it off, your bra stood no chance either. A wanton moan slips out of you when he grabs the small dagger that he always kept and cuts it off from the middle, the cool metal tip sending shivers all over your skin. 

“S-Seonghwa,” you mewled when his lips wrapped themselves on your puckered nipples, his tongue swirling all over it, leaving trails of spit that you always found incredibly erotic. 

He wasted no time taking the rest of his clothes off along with yours until there was no barrier left between the two of you and the hot surface of Seonghwa’s skin seared in contact with yours. You wanted this more than anything, and it was why you were terrified of letting him in. 

“How do you want it?” Seonghwa placed a tender kiss on the area below your ear, tickling you, making your cunt clamp down on his invading fingers as he massaged that sweet spot inside you. “How do you want me to fuck you?”

It was when you looked up at him that had your mind completely reeling. No, you never really doubted that he loved you, but sometimes, love simply wasn’t enough. 

And in Seonghwa’s case, he was offering a little too much. And too much of anything never did anybody favours.

When you raised your hand to cup his face, he didn’t hesitate to close his eyes and kiss your palm. There were no words that needed to be said. 

That night, as you were curled up on Seonghwa’s naked chest when things were said and done, it was the first time you wished that things were different. You wished you were strong enough to stop loving this man, but that was impossible because you knew he would never stop chasing you until all that were left of him were bones and ashes. 

And when you woke the next day to a completely empty bed, tears cascading down towards your pillows as you stared at the empty space. You could still feel the ghost of his lips on your forehead, the reluctance to leave clear in the gesture. But he had to, you’d kick him out, anyway.

However, it wasn’t out of a broken heart - it was relief. Pure, unadulterated relief that he was gone.

Leaving Seonghwa a couple of months before you moved back to your current place was simply the hardest thing you had to do. It wasn’t a decision that you mustered up out of thin air, it was days - months - of decision-making that either broke your heart or killed you.

You carefully adjusted your dress, shimmying your hips to make sure you weren’t exposed. You slipped among the crowd, squeezing your body in between the drunken state of the people on the dance floor as you made a beeline straight to the bar.

Clubbing became a part of your routine. It was an unhealthy coping mechanism to remind you that before Seonghwa, you were your own person. A drink or two later, your hands were in the air, your inhibitions lowering at the quick shot of adrenaline the alcohol provided you.

But it could only do so much. You sat at the corner of the club, just staring into the crowd. Melancholy seeped in your heart, it was pathetic that you had to go to places like these to get that cheap thrill of forgetting Seonghwa for a moment, only for his face to haunt you the moment you stepped out.

You swallowed the nostalgia that threatened to embrace you. When you closed your eyes, you could still picture the moment when you met Seonghwa for the first time. It was last year, you were so naive back then.

Or maybe not. He was just good at hiding his true colours.

A heavy sigh left your lips, your head nodding in resignation at the realization that your date had just ditched you.

Embarrassment clawed in your chest as you curled in on yourself at your seat, your fingers fiddling with the straps of the dress you’d carefully picked out for tonight uncomfortably. It was a waste since you had nobody to show up for it.

“You shouldn’t waste your tears on this beautiful night, pretty dove.”

Surprise covers your features. You hadn’t realized that you were crying. You feel somebody from behind you, probably another patron of the restaurant. You were even more embarrassed that someone has seen you get emotional.

“T-Thank you, kind Sir,” you politely accepted the handkerchief he offered you, dabbing your tears with it. “I’m afraid I soiled what’s yours…”

You were caught off guard when you glanced at its owner. He was hauntingly beautiful. His features were so forward and defined, and yet, there was a type of softness to it that reminded you of a gentle lamb.

”Do not fret, I have more where that came from,” he chuckled. 

“Ah,” you trailed off. “I will replace it for you soon.”

He smiled, his face transforming into something even more breathtaking. A blush creeps onto your cheeks.

”Might I be presumptuous to ask for something else in return? I don’t need it back,” he pointed to the kerchief. 

You blinked, waiting for his response. He gestured to the empty chair in front of you. “I’d like to accompany you for tonight, if that’s alright,” he said.

Your brows shot up in surprise. You supposed that the universe hasn’t completely abandoned you. You nodded, gesturing towards the chair. You had absolutely nothing to lose. 

“O-Of course. I’d be honoured,” you cleared your throat, gazing at him expectantly as he helped himself. “I’m Y/N.”

He gracefully extends his hand to capture yours, a subtle smirk plastered on his face. “Park Seonghwa.”

He was the best thing that ever happened to you. Seonghwa took you to multiple dates after that, taking you to places he said you deserved to be taken to, experiencing things you’ve never done before, and just spending time with him in general.

The next thing you knew, you were falling in love with him, and you were falling hard and fast. Luckily for you, Seonghwa was, too.

You bit your lips, remembering the way his glimmering eyes that reminded you of a baby doe as he stared at you with all the love he could muster in those beautiful eyes. The Seonghwa you knew was kind and gentle, he could never hurt a fly.

”Excuse me?” 

The bartender you got your drinks from earlier interrupts your thoughts. They had a tray with a single drink. It was a daiquiri. You frowned, shaking your head towards them. “I haven’t ordered anything.”

They proceeded to shake their head at you, instead. “It’s from that guy over there,” they pointed at a table a couple of metres away from you. 

As they placed the cocktail right in front of you, you took the liberty of inspecting the man that had the audacity to assume that you were lonely. A year back, you would’ve been flattered, but this reminded you of the way Seonghwa approached you for the first time in that restaurant.

Your sweet, sweet boy. Or so you thought. 

“Can you please return it? I’m not interested,” you pushed the drink back, much to the bartender’s chagrin and hesitation.

Your heart felt like a knife was being stabbed into it. You couldn’t go through this again.

Something changed along with your relationship. Seonghwa was the most patient man you knew. He was the type to cook breakfast in bed for you, tuck you in and give you a goodnight kiss for absolutely no reason. Seonghwa would hold you in his arms, cuddling with you for hours, just laughing along with your corny jokes even though they weren’t funny.

”Whenever you’re sad, just look at the stars for me,” Seonghwa would say. He would give your forehead a tender kiss as he would whisper. “You are my forever star, Y/N. I want the stars to be a witness to our eternal love.”

The club started to feel suffocating for you. Standing up, your wobbling legs took you to the restroom. You didn’t even spare a second glance on the daiquiri that you had purposefully left behind.

Luckily, the restroom was empty. You splashed cold water on your face, hoping it would wake you up and knock some sense into you. This was a mistake, you thought, your hands gripping the marbled sink. You were a mess.

Your feelings for Seonghwa were a mess. He started to change slowly. It wasn’t noticeable at first, but you knew him. He started getting angry fast, he had random bouts of periods where he would disappear, he’d come home with bruises on his face. He would cover it with makeup, but they’d still peek through.

When he told you he was in the mafia was a breaking point for you. You immediately left him after because you didn’t want to involve yourself in that lifestyle.

”My love, please,” Seonghwa begged at that time, tears falling from his beautiful eyes as he held your arm back weakly from leaving the house with your luggages. “P-Please, don’t go, I-I don’t think I can live without you, please.”

You couldn’t believe it back then, that your sweet Seonghwa was pleading for you to keep your love alive while his heart shattered with the weight of your decision in his chest. It pained you to see the love of your life losing it like this, but you had no choice. You wanted a normal life, you wanted to live your life safely, and Seonghwa being in the mafia can’t provide that for you.

It pained you to remember how Seonghwa desperately kneeled on the floor, crawling forward on his knees, broken, his eyes wild with fear. “Y/N, I am begging you,” Seonghwa’s voice cracked back then, struggling to breathe as tears spilled down his face. “I need you, dove, I can’t go on without you…”

His chest heaved with sobs he couldn’t control. “Don’t leave me, please. I don’t care what I have to do, dove, I-I can’t lose you, y-you’re everything to me. Please, don’t go.”

Sometimes, love just wasn’t worth it. You swallowed the tears that threatened to fall from your eyes, and you powered through, turning your back on him for the last time as his fiance, pulling on your luggages to leave him for good. It was difficult to ignore the guttural cries that left his lips as he screamed his lungs out for you to come back to him, but you had to go.

The little coffee breaks he’d ask of you were your little reprieve. Call it a guilty conscience for breaking his heart.  

But the truth was, you still loved him just the same, if not more. God, you still loved him.

Something had changed, though. During the months you were apart, he became maddened - more unhinged, to say the least. He scared you most of the time, it strengthened your cause of leaving because it was a side of him you’ve never seen before. He wasn’t the person you loved, not anymore. 

Your Seonghwa was mellow and gentle. Whoever this maniac was, this psycho, you didn’t know who. 

The bathroom doors opened with a bang, the rickety wooden structure hitting the walls that shook the entire expanse from where you stood. Danger signals spiked fear in you, instead of the usual women who belonged in the restroom, two wannabe thugs entered and set their eyes on you. 

One of them gave you a gnarly grin. You squinted your eyes, you knew of them. Disgust curls on your lips at the sight of the two men who were at the table who sent you the overly sweet cocktail you indifferently left at the table. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” you said, trying to level the situation out. Them barging in meant no good. And there was no one to save you. What is it with men and their inability to accept rejection?

“Who the hell do you think you are?” One of them growled audaciously, spit flying out from his filthy mouth emphasized by the dingy lighting the restroom provided. He marches towards you, pushing your arms rather roughly. You reckon it will bruise.

“Now, now, there’s no need for this,” the other one gestured for his companion to tone it down, leering as he raked his eyes from your head to your toes. His slimy tongue licks his dry lips as he slowly approaches you, or rather, stalks you like a predator.

The moment he grabs your shoulders, your instincts snapped you out. With a scream, you swiftly ran across the room towards the door, but not before giving one of them a good kick in the groin. 

“You fucking bitch! Ow, fuck, wait until I get my hands on you—”

Your heart pounded heavily against your ribcage, pure adrenaline fueling you as more vile words could be heard from the distance the more you walked away. You had no care for the sweaty bodies that you had to go through, all you knew was that you had to run, and you had to run fast.

This was the only time you cursed at how small the club was. You had no idea how far you were walking away from the bathroom, but the blinding lights, the deafening music, they were starting to get to you. You were terrified that they had managed to follow you. You didn’t dare look back.

You had to get out of here. Luckily, you were near the back door where you could exit and get away, so that’s exactly what you did. You couldn’t even regret forgetting your jacket the moment you got out and was embraced in the bitter cold of the night.

“Once again, I don’t have to do anything. You keep running into me.”

A startled scream escapes your mouth, the loudness of your own voice scaring you. Panic surged through your bloodstream. You looked around, and there was darkness everywhere, but no matter how blinded you were, you will always find that voice. 

Seonghwa was enveloped in the quiet corner of the cobblestoned alleyway. His back was leaning against the wall, his hand in his pants pocket while the other held a cigarette in between his nimble fingers. The only thing illuminating him was the faint glow of its lighted tip, its smoke swirling in the air mixed with the cold exhale of his breath.

Your breath caught into your throat. The horrifying clarity of running straight towards another danger was harrowing. Being alone with Seonghwa was far, far more dangerous than anything, however, you’d rather be in his mercy than those thugs inside. 

“You just couldn’t wait to see me again, don’t you, doveling?” Seonghwa mocked, his voice almost low, and frankly, delicious to your ears.

But you weren’t in the mood for his games. “Go fuck yourself,” you hissed, gritting your teeth in annoyance.

“I’d rather fuck you,” he grinned.

His pants tightened as he stared at you clad in the tiniest dress known to mankind, his cock jumping out at a certain memory of you underneath him just the prior week before he left your sleeping form. 

He could take you where you stood, right here, right now. And he would. However, when he noticed the way your hands trembled as you wrapped a protective arm all over yourself, his inhibitions died down. His brow rose when your form shook at the sudden boom of a voice from the door where you exited.

Paleness rendered you frozen. You could hear the same voice from the bathroom shouting, the sound of their voice growing closer and closer as they searched for you. Your eyes fleeted to Seonghwa once more.

He was already staring at you, his sharp, calculating eyes boring into you in realization. He poked his tongue on his inner cheeks, dropping the cigarette on the dirty floor, crushing it underneath his feet. You smiled to yourself ruefully, he was definitely different from the Seonghwa in your memory.

This was his true nature. Your sweet Seonghwa was a fraud.

The door busted open, and the same guy that held your shoulders looked around like an angry bull until he set his eyes on you. At that moment, you knew that Seonghwa understood what was happening. He stayed unmoving, unbreathing in his dark corner as the guy marched towards you.

“You,” the guy seethed, shoving you hard on the same shoulder. “You think you’re hot shit, bitch?”

You gasped when he spit at your feet, his saliva coating your slightly exposed feet due to your shoes. You inhaled, exhaled, repeating the gesture to reel in the anger you were feeling. You subtly waved your hand in Seonghwa’s direction, telling him to back the hell off and let you handle this, yourself.

“I’ll pay you for the drink, if that’s what you’re mad about,” you murmured, trying to sidestep him, but he swayed to the same direction, blocking your way. “Move,” you gritted your teeth.

He gripped your arm tight, his fingers digging into your skin in an alarming pressure where you were sure it would leave bruises. “No, no, you’re coming with me,” he pulled on your arm, causing you to lose your footing a bit.

“N-No, let go of me,” you pulled once more, forcefully this time, but his grip was loosening. Tension gripped your chest, the feeling of being cornered filling your mind with fear.

“Just come with me, you’ll have a good time,” he laughed lasciviously, his arm moving to grip your waist, until it freezes in the air.

You didn’t know whether you should feel alarmed or cry in relief when you watched Seonghwa appear from behind your captor. “Not so fast,” he said. You gulped when you saw him pull something familiar, using it to point at the man who held your arm at the back of his head.

The sound of a pistol cocking was louder than it should’ve been at the empty alleway. Your eyes widened in surprise and fear. This wasn’t supposed to be shocking to you anymore, but the sight of Seonghwa easily pulling a gun towards someone’s head never failed to instill terror in you.

“Back off, bastard,” the man snarled, though it didn’t have a real bite to it. “I saw her first, you can use this bitch when I’m done with her.”

Seonghwa hummed, leaning forward to the man’s ear, his tone dripping with unveiled threat. “Or I could plant a bullet in your head first. That sounds better to me.”

The man let out a nervous laugh, his grip on you tightening further, making you whine in slight pain. “You wouldn’t dare,” he laughed sarcastically, pushing his luck. “Not in a public place.”

Seonghwa’s eyes never left your shaking form. Your captor’s lips curled in dissatisfaction at Seonghwa’s lack of response. The thick silence in the air, yet your eyes never left Seonghwa as well. 

“What else did he do to you, love?” Seonghwa’s soft voice asked after a while, though his eyes held another thing - rage.

He pushes the gun on the man’s scalp, the latter groaning in pain in response to the rough action. “Look, man. I didn’t know she was taken,” the guy defended himself. “W-We can talk about this—”

“Did he hurt you before this?” Seonghwa gave you a pointed look, impatience coating his features.

“Seonghwa, please,” you responded, voice weary and exhausted. “Let’s just—”

“Answer the question, Y/N. Did he, or did he not?”

You gulped. You hated when he used your name. “Just let him go, please, I want to go home,” you begged. You felt filthy being touched, but you didn’t want blood in your hands.

But it was too late, Seonghwa hated his properties getting defiled. He shoots the guy point blank, his eyes still never leaving yours. Shock electrifies your system, unwilling you to move even when your face splatters with blood. The grip on your arms disappears as the man’s body crumples to the ground with a sickening thud.

Seonghwa tutted, clicking his tongue in mock disappointment and disgust at the body laying down in front of him. “Pathetic fool,” he sneered, spitting violently at the corpse’s face, his foot connecting to the now-dead man’s face. “Pathetic fool.”

Another gunshot resounds in the air, and then another, and then another one, until the clicking of Seonghwa’s trigger signifies that he was out of bullets. “Well, fuck,” he murmured before his maniacal laughter fills the night. There was something primal about it, something animalistic.

You turned away, at the risk of throwing up all over the concrete floor, afraid to look at the man’s, mangled, bullet-riddled face. Your vision started to blur, like your surroundings were spinning, as your breathing became laboured and shallow. You tried to back away to try and lean on something, but your legs felt weak.

“A ‘thank you’ would be nice, little dove,” Seonghwa scoffed, side-eyeing you as he put his phone up his ear. “Get in here. I need someone to scrub the floor.”

You knew exactly what that meant. Someone was coming to get rid of Seonghwa’s crime. Your stomach churns with nausea, until you can't take it anymore. You turn around, emptying your stomach of its contents, the regurgitating, gagging sounds from your hoarse throat sickening, the smell of your own vomit making you even more sick.

The more you tried to breathe in calmly, the more out of control you felt. It was as if your body was deliberately going against you. Seonghwa never hid his brutality, but this was the first time you had witnessed it first hand.

You gasped when you were pinned against the nearby wall, your eyes rolling in the back of your head, but still making a point to look at Seonghwa. “Shut the hell up,” he hissed, wildly looking around. “We’re going to get caught if you don’t toughen up.”

You sneered, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. “Are you fucking kidding me? You’re delusional, you monster—”

Something cold and unforgiving wrapped itself around your throat. You gasped, your hands coming up for defense to pry Seonghwa’s hand away from your neck, but all he did was squeeze, effectively cutting your air supply off. “S-Seonghwa…”

A low, throaty laugh reaches your ears before he lets go. Your body automatically lunges forward, the suffocating weight on your neck finally lifting for you to gulp in a large amount of air. Yes, Seonghwa thought, this was what he wanted. He was the only one who had rights to your pain, not some slimy bastard.

“Why do you always have to misbehave, dove?” Seonghwa grabs your face gently in his hands, leaning in to plant a firm kiss on your forehead. “It would do you a favour if you shut your trap.”

“I–I’m well-behaved, actually,” you choked out, your fingers digging on his arms for support. “You always get what you want, anyway. What was the point?”

It was the truth, and you weren’t wrong. Whether that was by determination, force, or sheer luck, Seonghwa always got what he wanted.

Footsteps began to approach, the heavy thud of boots echoing through the night. Panic seizes you at first, but when you are approached by familiar faces. Seonghwa curses under his breath, pulling you close to him to cover your scantily clad body from prying eyes.

Not that he needed to do it, anyone who looked at you wrongly would have faced his wrath, anyway.

“Clean that rubbish up,” Seonghwa ordered gruffly, pointing his gun at the corpse he further abused after taking its life. “Leave traces of it, and you’re next. Where’s the car?”

Before anyone could respond, he threw said gun in the air for someone to catch. “Dispose of this, Yunho, and dispose of it well,” he wrapped a possessive arm around you, gesturing to the tall man who stared at you in pity. “We’re leaving.”

“Boss, hold on,” another person, one that you knew to be Jongho from his voice, alone, stopped Seonghwa from walking. He raised an irritated brow in expectation. “Wouldn’t it be smarter to pin this on someone else, instead?”

You knew of Seonghwa’s brothers, the people who he led and followed him for his wisdom and criminally intelligent guise, and you liked them. Jongho drove you back to your apartment that day when you left Seonghwa, causing him to be severely punished when he came back, and Yunho provided you a crying shoulder, but sometimes, you forgot that they were just as depraved as their boss.

Seonghwa laughed, baring his teeth maliciously. “Brilliant. On with it, then.”

The car was thick with unspoken tension, at least for you, anyway. Seonghwa was as relaxed as ever as he sat with you at the back of the car; his legs were crossed gracefully, and he even held a champagne flute for him to drink as if he was celebrating a job well done.

“Are you going to get rid of me too?” You asked, filling in the awkward silence. One more second of silence and you were going to lose your mind.

“I should,” he answered. Your body twitched with the unexpected response. “Which is why you should be more thankful. Nobody gets out of Halazia alive, not without my consent.”

Halazia was their base where all the operations ensued. You wanted to scoff, were you supposed to be grateful that you weren’t killed in your sleep after you broke up with him? 

“The only thing I should thank you for is absolute nothing,” you replied, your voice inhospitable and unwelcoming.

You turned away, trying to ignore him and cut the conversation, but you gasped when he grabbed your arm harshly, hissing in pain when he coincidentally dug his fingers on the spot where you were pushed by the other man in the bathroom.

“Where the hell did you get this?” Seonghwa barked, glaring at the swollen area of your arm. If it wasn’t a bruise from him, then you’re not supposed to have it. Only he can give you those.

“Get your hands off of me,” you snarled, pulling your arm away to rub on the hurting spot. You avoided eye contact with him, not willing to divulge more information. One man was already dead, you didn’t want another one in your hands. You haven’t even properly internalized what happened, it was too soon.

“I just had a nasty fall and hit something while I was running away from that creep, it’s no big deal.”

His stiffened, his eyes narrowed with unbridled, towering hostility. Seonghwa made no point to reply, but you could feel his temper rolling off in waves from where you sat. You decided not to push it. Technically, he lets you get away with a lot of things. You gulped, remembering how he callously shot someone in the head just by messing with you.

And that was fine, until you realized you weren’t getting driven to the place where you thought you’d be. You picture the familiar buildings that lead to your apartment, the roads that you walked to and fro everyday. You dare not breathe as you slowly approach the belly of the beast.

Seonghwa’s house, your old house with him.

“W-What are we doing here? Seonghwa,” you panicked, gripping the leather seats underneath your palms. “Why are you taking me here—”

“Relax, dove, it’s only for one night,” he scoffed. 

The car lurched to a stop, the brakes screeching with no warning, and a cold gust of air hit your face when Seonghwa opened his own door to get out, but not without turning his head in your direction. “Unless you want to stay with me,” he grinned maliciously.

You angrily stepped out, having no choice but to comply just for a night. Your heels clacked against the wet concrete, not even caring that you splashed into a small puddle, as you marched towards the house without even waiting for Seonghwa. You hesitated for a little, nostalgia was a dangerous thing to feel. 

The last time you were in this house, Seonghwa was kneeling by the doorway, pleading for you to stay and not leave him, begging that he’ll change. Your chest felt hollow with misplaced intentions, but you decided to ignore it for now.

All you knew right now was that you need to wash off all the blood that marred your face; to wash off all the indirect sins that you knew you had no hand in, but still felt guilty about. When you went to the guest room’s bathroom, your heart dropped when you saw that nothing had changed. 

The water felt invigorating against your skin, but peace never came to you. That man, you were the reason why he was dead. You might as well have pulled the trigger on him. As your mind raced with frantic thoughts, you heard a soft knock on the bathroom door, and then the telltale jingle of the doorknob.

“Don’t even think about it,” you snapped, still covering your naked body with your hands even though you knew he wouldn’t be able to get in.

You heard Seonghwa’s dark chuckle on the other side of the door. “I’ll be back immediately, I have business to attend to. Hongjoong is here to address your needs, shall you need something.��

You murmured in agreement just to get rid of him. You would take this opportunity to slip away and go back to your apartment. You just hoped that Seonghwa wouldn’t be one step ahead of you like he always was. He could do whatever he wanted, you didn’t care.

At least that’s what you told yourself when you dressed up using your clothes that Seonghwa didn’t bother to throw away. A scoff leaves your lips, was he really hoping that you’d come back to him? Still, you couldn’t help but wonder what it is that he was doing this late in the night. Back then, you disliked when Seonghwa worked late as it worried you to no end.

“Y/N? May I come in?”

The family butler, Hongjoong, stood at the far end of the room. You greeted him with a warm smile, genuinely happy to see somebody that you knew wasn’t going to take advantage of your presence. He carried a small cup with him with what you assumed was tea. “Hey, Joong, long time no see.”

“Likewise, Y/N. The mansion wasn’t ever the same without you,” he smiled. He paused, hesitation coating his features as he set the cup down in front of you. “I wish you never came back, though.”

You sighed. It might sound harsh, but you knew he meant well. He saw how suffocating Seonghwa was as a fiance. “You can thank your boss for this fiasco. Ask him later, but I’m leaving right now.”

“I still value my life, thank you,” he chuckled, shaking his head. He bowed slightly before he started to walk away. “Call me when you need anything.”

You cursed mentally, swiping your hair up in frustration as you stared at the steaming cup of goodness. You wanted to leave before Seonghwa came back, but if you were being honest with yourself, you felt beat up. Your arms had started to bruise in some areas while you showered, patches of unsightly purples and greens spread all across your skin.

It wasn’t a good idea, and you were setting yourself up for failure, but you decided to drink the tea quickly and then vanish. You sighed, sitting down on the leather sofa, grabbing the remote control to the TV to raise the volume as it was already on, anyway. Seonghwa had a habit of leaving them on even when he’s not around so he’d have easy access to the news whenever he needed it.

Relaxation seeped into you as you took a good sip. Earl Grey, you realized. It made you smile a bit, it was your favourite. Seonghwa bought an entire land just to plant the trees that made them all for you one time. The memory suddenly made the tea taste bitter.

Suddenly, the distinct voice of the newscaster on the television made you freeze mid-sip. “For our breaking news,” they began. “A man was found brutally beaten north of downtown a quarter before midnight. It said that they passed away shortly after their sustained injuries.”

That in itself wouldn’t have been too bad, but when they showed the man’s face pre-crime, the cup wavered in your hand, drops of the tea spilling from the sides. It was the man that pushed you in the bathroom, the one that gave you the nasty bruise on your arm. 

The more the reporter recounted the injuries, the more your grip on the cup tightened. You struggled to process the words, but more so how grizzly the attack was - missing teeth, broken jaw and ribs, face beyond recognition and repair. The words began to blur as you sat staring at the screen, frozen in your place.

 A small chuckle sounded from the doorway, breaking you out of your thoughts. It was followed by a tut, the mocking kind. You closed your eyes to calm your nerves, you knew your chances of leaving were slim to none at this point. Even at a distance, his presence was so overwhelming and suffocating.

“What a shame. Such a handsome fellow.”

You didn’t turn right away, not wanting to give Seonghwa the satisfaction of seeing you falter. If he looked closer, he would’ve noticed how badly your hands shook. ”Yes, it is,” you said flatly, setting the cup down before you shattered it towards the floor. “What did you do?”

You were afraid of the answer, terrified, even. “Whatever do you mean, my love?” Seonghwa replied from where he stood. You could practically hear the smirk from his voice. He was so sure of himself and a bit too close for comfort. “I would never associate myself with the likes of that man.”

That much was true. As lethal as he was, he held an air of grandeur to him that always starstruck you. He could have been royalty in his past life. Everyone was beneath him. 

“Oh?” You worded out, your tone more aggressive than you’d like. “What did you think happened, then?”

Your gaze flickered towards the door, and you wished you didn’t. He leaned on the door frame, arms folded, posture as relaxed as ever. “He must have had a pretty bad fall,” he shrugged nonchalantly. He said it so smoothly, so calmly, that it sent a shiver down your spine. “It’s no big deal.”

You didn’t know what it was. Something passed through his eyes, but it was gone in an instant before you could read it. The way he stood by and stared wasn’t imposing either, but there was something about the way he parroted your words in the car earlier, the way he knew that you knew, that made Seonghwa truly the terrifying man that he was.

You looked at him in disgust. “You’re a psychopath.”

“I prefer creative,” he started walking towards you, his eyes never leaving yours. He stops directly in front of you, his torso in your line of vision. His index finger tilts your chin up until your eyes are meeting his.

For a while, he didn’t say anything, the rest of his fingers brushing your skin tenderly in a way that should’ve calmed you down, but all it did was terrorize you. His gaze was calm, yet it unsettled you to your bones. “My, my, little dove, you are quite ungrateful,” he remarked softly, almost soothingly. “I don’t like ungrateful people.”

He gripped your chin firmly, not enough for it to hurt, but enough for him to make his point. “I don’t know what you want from me,” you cut the undeniable tension in the air.

“It’s not what I want from you,” his thumb pressing lightly over your skin. “It’s what you need from me.”

You frowned. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Watch your tone,” his eyes narrowed as he dug his sharp nails on your chin. You had to suppress a groan until he calmed down. He sighed, his thumb carressing the area he hurt. “Did you honestly think I enjoyed you seeing me like this after hiding it for so long when you were with me?”

The question hung in the air, what were you supposed to say to that? His eyes darkened. “I do everything for you, dove. Can’t you see that everything I do is for your enjoyment and glory?”

This man was delusional. His hands lowered down to your neck, his fingers not squeezing, but the command was there. “I could kill anyone for you without blinking. I’m the only one who will do this for you, because I’m the only one who knows what you truly want,” he took a deep breath. 

His voice became gentler, but that served to scare you even more. The words coming out of his mouth weren’t normal. “You think someone would care for you like I do?” Seonghwa asked affectionately. “You owe me, Y/N. Ask me why.”

“W-Why?” You asked, your words cracking halfway.

“Because,” he answered, eerily calm than it should be. “You’re the only one I care enough to hurt about.” Seonghwa kneels down, his hand unwrapping itself from your neck to hold your thighs. “I’m different now, I won’t let you down, baby.”

Your breath hitched, wanting to pull away, to scream, but the fear had you frozen in place. "I know how you are, Park Seonghwa,” you gulped. “You can't fool me."

"Once. I made that mistake once,” the mask had slipped and the true chaos inside him, referring to when he had hidden things from you. “And I already paid that price, little dove. You left me. Won't you spare me a bit of your love? I learned my lesson."

"You haven't learned your lesson. It's impossible. We are what we are," you stood your ground regardless of what Seonghwa would do to you.

He smirked. "You know I love you," Seonghwa said. "I could wait for you for as long as you need me to."

You frowned, your eyes widening slightly in horror. The confession wasn't something you haven't heard before, but it terrified you just the same. "You shouldn't. I don't love you like that," you rasped weakly. "We've talked about this before."

Seonghwa tilted his head, his face not giving out what his thoughts truly were. You had no idea how utterly smitten he was with you; how depraved he truly was. But the truth was, you could see it on his face. Instead of the rejection stunting his attempts, it made him want you more.

"How long are you going to pretend you don't want me, little dove?" Seonghwa held your hand. He planted a slow kiss, his dark eyes looking up at you as he did so. "How long are you going to deny me?"

It wasn’t difficult to see how his words, no matter how sweet or manipulative they were, hinted at his unstable mindset. “Anyway, I digress,” he pulled away, “Stay the night. You’ve been through a lot today.”

Anger is an indulgence, and it’s something you weren’t willing to feel at the moment. You weren’t angry at him, no - you were angry at yourself. You should have just left earlier.

“I have to go,” you whispered so softly it was almost unheard in the wide expanse of the room. “You weren’t even supposed to bring me here.” Your tone was accusatory. Clearly, you’ve had plenty of blunders today.

“Hmm,” he hummed. “Has it never crossed your mind that all the things you’ve been doing lately have all led you to me?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but he continued. “Think about it,” he shrugged. “The odds of you stumbling upon me, through the backdoor, nonetheless, on a bar that we had just purchased the same night is astounding.”

You grit your teeth, not having any idea that he owned the property. Had you known, you wouldn’t even have bothered at all.

You rolled your eyes, resisting the urge to scream at him and fight him until you were out of this suffocating house. He tilted his head in response. “You’re not a prisoner, dove,” he declared with disturbing softness. “You are free to leave anytime, but you have to behave and you have to trust me.”

“I don’t trust you,” you bit back, baring your teeth at him like an animal. “I never will.”

Something flashed in his eyes - something inhuman. He chuckled, as if he was expecting your answer all along. “Not yet,” his eyes, once again, glimmered with something foreboding. “But you will, if you know what’s good for you.”

You flipped him off, jumping off of the sofa to tread towards the door to leave, ready to shove him out of the way should Seonghwa resist, if need be. You were done playing his games, you were done being his plaything.

Seonghwa laughed, low and manic, as he watched your petite form stalk towards your goal like a cat who has set his eyes on its prize. Your jerked back, heart pounding in your throat, when he grabbed your wrist to halt you from moving forward. 

His eyes were predatory, and you were pretty sure that he could smell your fear. “Behave, Y/N. It’s quite late, and I’m looking forward to retiring to my bed,” he smirked. He leaned closer to your ear to whisper. “Or are you looking forward to finding out how I’ll punish you if you misbehave?”

You grit your teeth, the audacity of this man! You fists clenched to your sides, the ache of rage and frustration bubbling inside you.

“No need to be afraid,” he whispered, leaning in close. “I told you, you’ll learn to trust me. I always get what I want.”

He lets go of your wrist to walk away, but not before he turns his head to side-you. “And I want you.”

A day or two was fine, to be fair, you really did need to rest and recuperate all the energy you had lost from all the adrenaline-fueled chase in the nightclub.

But you’ve been in Seonghwa’s territory, Halazia, for almost a week now. True to his words, you really weren’t being treated as a prisoner. Hongjoong did his best to accommodate all your needs, but it didn’t erase the fact that you were just a glorified captive that he dressed in silk and bound by the chains of his obsession.

Seonghwa always had an excuse, his latest one being that he wanted to see you out since he knew you weren’t going to show your face to him for a while. Well, that was three days ago. It pissed you off to no end, you weren’t completely stupid - it was his way of manipulating you to stay.

All you did was stay in the guest room. Seonghwa has tried to coax you once or twice, but you always ignored him, and you weren’t ready to see the people you used to know that you had gotten close with before you left.

Fine, you thought. If he wasn’t going to let you leave, you were just going to get out, yourself, without anybody knowing. You had no idea how you’ll do it, Halazia was well-guarded, but damn, if you didn’t try. You had to escape.

You carefully opened the door that led out to the currently empty hallway, looking left and right to see if Seonghwa assigned somebody to watch you. There wasn’t any, but you didn’t trust what you see - it was what you didn’t see that you didn’t trust.

The only good thing about this house was that it had a lot of secret entrances and exits just in case Seonghwa needed to escape if the operation got compromised. You had memorized them just in case you needed to escape from Seonghwa, ironically, like right now. 

The nearest one to you was locked, of course. You cursed under your breath, quickly moving on to the next one. It was a gamble, unlike the other secret exits, this one was disguised as a small aesthetic dresser that Seonghwa had cleverly displayed at the end of the hallway. When opened, you would be greeted by random coats for diversion.

You silently moved them aside, revealing a hidden door knob behind them that led to the underground garage. Luckily, you were small enough to fit through without making the wooden structure of it creak. You were so close, and now, you had this one chance.

“Y/N?”

You reached for the door knob, but before your hands could wrap around it, your breath hitched, every muscle on your back stiffening. You rigidly turned your head, meeting Yunho’s widened eyes as they went back and forth between your face and where your hand was headed.

“Y-Yunho,” you pleaded, gulping on your nerves. You were thoroughly fucked. “Please…”

But before you could both react, low murmurs of voice started to echo down the hallway as well as thudding footsteps that signalled a couple of people just around the other hallway.

One of which was Seonghwa’s.

You couldn’t even lament. You knew this was going to happen. Every single time you found an opportunity to seek your way out, he would always come for you. He was always one step ahead, always waiting for you to screw up so he could whatever it is that he wanted.

Your breath got caught in your throat. Seonghwa’s presence loomed close like his footsteps, his voice muffled, yet smooth and cold, as he talked to whoever he was with. When his shadow was outlined at the end of the hallway, you knew you were done for.

And when you heard Hongjoong’s voice from the distance looking for you in panic, you knew you were found out.

Without thinking, you stepped in the dresser, closing the door before you slid in the corner behind all the thick coats. You swallowed, forcing yourself to still your breathing and manage your panic, but the truth was, you felt like you were going to faint. You stayed hidden, holding your breath and waited.

Footsteps approached until they directly stopped in front of the dresser. Your stomach twisted in fear, your breath coming fast and shallow. One wrong move, and all of this would be over.

“Yun,” Hongjoong’s panted tiredly. “Have you seen Y/N, by any chance?”

You inhaled a sharp breath. You had totally forgotten about Yunho. You said a quick prayer in your head, squeezing your body even tighter against the corner. Light passed in between the small crack of the door, allowing you to see Seonghwa along with two people you couldn’t really see finally joining Hongjoong and Yunho.

“No. I thought she was still in the guest room?” Yunho sounded thoroughly confused when he answered, his voice leaving no room for doubt as he covered for you. 

Relief washed over you. You would never forget this favour from Yunho as he stepped in for you without a second thought. Through the crack, you could see Seonghwa close his eyes to reel in his anger, his fingers massaging his temple in nuisance, staring at Yunho, who squirmed at the attention, intently.

“She couldn’t have gotten far. Find her,” he ordered in eerie stillness.

Seonghwa remained in the hallway directly in your line of vision through the small space in between the wooden doors. This time, you weren’t breathing at all, your mind racing. Why wasn’t he leaving?

“Y/N,” he sighed exasperatedly. “Oh, my little doveling.”

Your chest exploded, pain spreading through your lungs as your breath got knocked out of you. His possessive way of calling you out shook you. You couldn’t risk getting caught, so you didn’t say anything.

You flinched when the doors rattled with his touch, creaking slightly as he opened it ever so slightly. “I know you’re in here,” he chuckled, teasing and soft, and so mocking. “Did you honestly think you could hide from me?”

Your stomach churned when the doors opened violently, its hinges almost coming undone. You wanted to cry, but you forced yourself to be still. You were still hidden behind the thick, wool coats. You just hoped your heavy breathing didn’t give you away.

You watched as his dark eyes scanned the dresser and for a moment, he didn’t move, just standing there as if disbelieving that he wasn’t seeing you. He hummed, finally closing the doors. A chill sparked up your spine, it couldn’t be that easy—

It all happened within a split second. You screamed when the doors opened again, a hand grabbing you and dragging you out of the dresser to be forcibly pinned against it. Somehow, Seonghwa still knew you were in there as if he had always known from the start - as if he anticipated you hiding in it.

“You think me stupid, don’t you?” Seonghwa murmured with false pretense. “I own you. That also means I know how your mind functions.”

You fixed your stare on the floor, not daring to lift your head to look at him. He held the areas on your arm that were still bruised, they hurt, but you were wishing that you could just disappear on the spot. But there he was, standing before you as his hands pinned yours tightly against the wall. His stare was intense, his demeanor more so.

“Look at me,” he commanded. He wasn’t playing around this time, that much you could tell. 

You looked into his eyes with equal intent. A glint of surprise passes through them for a split second before it disappears and something akin to proudness appears on them. It was certainly twisted, especially because you just don’t understand just why he was so obsessed with you. Had you known it was going to be like this, you would never have left him the way you did.

In some ways, you felt like you were responsible for his unnecessary fixation towards you, and knowing Seonghwa, he was never going to stop until you were completely in his possession.

“You know what I think?” Seonghwa began, his voice tethering the line between amusement and controlled rage. “I think you think that you know me.”

One of your hands fell to your sides as he let go, only for him to grab you by the hair, bunching them up in his wrists tightly as he yanked your head backwards. Pain bloomed in your scalp, but Seonghwa didn’t care. It was this moment where you actually feared him,  the real depth of his madness were finally starting to come to head as his patience was slowly thinning.

“I don't know whether to kill you or kiss you all over. Tell me, doveling, what do you think I should do?” Seonghwa said. His movement became frenzied in the simmering rage that was surfacing on his face. “There is no point in escaping when the cage has no door.”

You groaned when he jerked your head forward, then pushed it backwards, the back of your head hitting the wall. “Maybe this ought to help you, maybe this will wake you up, because clearly, nothing I do is worth your time,” he sneered, savouring the pain that registered in your eyes. “I give you everything, I feed you, dress you, love you, and this is what you repay me?”

“Hiding isn’t going to do anything for you, because I will always find you,” he continued, his words slow, deliberate, and threatening. “You think you can outsmart me, that if you stayed holed up in your room I won’t notice that you’re missing. Get this in your head.”

He leaned forward, his entire body closing in on you, wrapping you in the same darkness that swallowed the sentient part of his soul a long time ago.  "I love when people think they’re smarter than me,” his lips curled into a sick grin. “It makes the chase so much worth it.”

Something in his words sobers you up immediately. With all the strength left in you, you twisted away completely from his hold, pushing him away with a scream. You breathe in and out, just watching Seonghwa’s unimpressed gait, his fists still up. They held chunks of your hair, but you didn’t care.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? You need help, Seonghwa,” you yelled in frustration, lifting your hand to tap aggressively on your head. “You are sick in the head, you delusional fuck, y-you’re…”

You trailed off, your emotions getting the best of you as they clogged up your throat. It might be wrong to talk back to him like this since it will make your situation worse, but you knew Seonghwa was done playing with you. He was slipping deeper and deeper in his delusions and there was no telling how far he’d go just to keep you.

Your heart bled, the pain in your scalp and the back of your head pounding, begging for attention. He has never been physical with you just to get what he wanted, he has gone too far now.

“You want to leave, don’t you?” Seonghwa asked softly, uncharacteristically soft compared to the crazed look in his eyes. He stepped forward, and at first, you thought he was going to corner you again, but instead, he leaned his back on the wall beside you, his head tilted upwards to stare at the ceiling. He turned his head to meet your eyes. “But you won’t. I won’t allow it. Now that I have you, I am not letting you go. Not now, not ever.”

You scoffed, but in truth, the way he said it posed fear in you. “That is not up to you. You cannot just imprison me and expect me to like you after this.”

“Oh, but I can,” he chuckled. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

He started to scoot closer, so close that you can smell his cologne that was mixed with the delusions that came along with it. It unsettled you, the only time you got close to him after you left him was when he was spreading your legs to bury himself in you whenever he’d ask you to go out for either coffee or drinks.

“You’re mine,” he said, more forceful than before. “Come on, say it. Say you’re mine. The sooner you understand that, the sooner you’ll feel better about it.”

“No,” you denied strongly with a hint of desperation in it. “I’m not yours anymore, Seonghwa, please. I just want to go home, let me go.”

He didn’t seem to hear you, that or he chose not to. A light laugh bubbled from his chest, but it wasn’t joyous - it was empty, like he was trying to convince himself that he was right and you weren’t. The two of you must’ve looked odd in the hallways, just leaning against the wall. However, to you, it felt like the hallways were crushing in on you.

“That’s the problem isn’t it? You don’t understand,” he said almost sympathetically, like he was telling these deranged things to you for your own good. You felt like you were going to get sick, it sounded more like an omen than anything else.

He was right - you didn’t. You didn’t want to understand, he could rot in hell for all you care. “Why me?” You whispered, hoarse and broken. It was the only genuine thing you wanted to know.

“Because,” he began, his hand reaching for you. His touch was cold. “When people see me, they think I’m this monster, they don’t understand,” he shook his head. “But you? You are the only one who knows what I’m truly capable of, the only one strong enough to take me as is. The only one who knows that I am actually a monster.”

It wasn’t the entire truth. Seonghwa stared at the fear in your eyes at his statement, he wanted to tell you the truth - that as messed up as it is, he just really genuinely loved you. Nothing about this was normal, but he was never going to tell you because he knew that you were never going to believe him.

The gaping hole you carved out of his heart was still there even though you were right in front of him, he would have loved you forever, and you didn’t understand that.

But that’s fine. He’ll make you, one way or another.

Your throat tightened, and despite everything in you screaming to run, you felt a tear slip down your cheek. His smile softened, and he wiped it away with a tenderness that was almost cruel.

“Seonghwa, this isn’t what you’re making it out to be, you are really unwell,” you pleaded. You hesitated, having no choice but to say the one thing that’s been weighing on you. “You have to move on, we are not meant to be. If you really loved me, you’d let me find another man to love, a normal one—-”

“I love you,” Seonghwa interrupted, the words coming out almost too quickly, exploding with the anger he was trying to repress. He glared at your face with an intensity that was borderline obsessive. “Is that not enough for you? How dare you mention another man in my presence?”

“That’s not what I said, and you know it,” you gasped, thick with terror, trying to remedy the situation.

He forced you to look at him. “So say it,” he hissed. His face twisted into something terrifying than anything you’ve seen. It was hurt, as though your refusal was the worst kind of betrayal for him.  “Say you’re mine, because I will never leave you alone if you don’t.”

It was a threat, his certainty in it wrapping like noose around your neck, but the answer was still the same. “N-No,” you shook your head in defiance, more firmly this time. “I never will be.”

It was what set him off, the calmness he faked shattering before your very eyes. His hand shot out to bang his fists on the wall beside you. The sudden bout of violence made you gasp in surprise. “Fuck, you’re really testing me here,” he seethed, no longer soft, just harsh and detrimental. “God, I know you still love me, you don’t get to pretend when I know.”

He leaned closer, his face twisted with fury. He was dangerous, and you had no way out. “I’ve let you run free for a while now, my patience is waning down. I only stretched it for you and even then there’s not much I can provide you. I even let you go when you told me that bullshit about breaking up, enough is enough now,” he spat bitterly. “Come back to me.”

His words felt like a slap to your face.The sickening feeling of his warm breath against your skin felt overwhelming and your body was rendered paralyzed. You didn’t say anything, you couldn’t, not when his words echoed in your head like a broken soundtrack.

“I’m not letting you go, you hear me?” Seonghwa continued, not caring if it sounded torturous to your ears, and certainly not caring that he was basically admitting that he will completely hold you against your will. “You’re going to take what I give you, and you’re going to like it.”

But you weren’t broken yet. You stared at him blankly, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing you break down no matter how furious he got. 

Seonghwa leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours. "I’m doing this for you. For us. But if you push me too far, I’m not going down alone," his voice hardened, just a little, enough to remind you of what lay beneath the surface. "It’ll hurt you, too."

The veins on his neck bulged as he held himself back when he realized you weren’t going to say anything. He really was controlling his anger, but barely.

“You will learn how to love me again,” his words were clipped as he uttered them, jaw tight and just on the edge of breaking. The air between the two of you cracked with tense energy. “No one else will love you like I do. I can’t live without you, but I will make sure that you cannot live without me, either. I’m not asking anymore.”

You didn’t understand what he was trying to tell you, but you were about to. His hands flexed slowly, his fingers stretching as if the need to reel in his rage was physically painful. He snapped them, his eyes not once leaving yours. “Get her,” he deadpanned.

Footsteps began to approach from behind you. It was, then, when hands started to restrain your form, completely immobilizing you. Rapid thoughts spun in your head, the weight of their hands oppressive. You tried to pull away in an attempt to break free, but their grip was just too strong. You stared wildly at Seonghwa, eyes widened as you screamed on the inside.

“You can’t leave,” he muttered, his voice cold and detached, full with promise. “I will do everything in my power to find you, because I will. And when I do, I will make sure you never, ever leave me again.”

He turned around, his back facing you with finality, the true madness of his love setting in your bones. “Take her away and lock the doors.”

“N-No, wait, you can’t do this,” you clenched your jaw, resisting the arms that gripped tight on yours as they tried to drag you away. “Seonghwa! No, please, Park Seonghwa, let me go!”

But you were dragged, anyway, from your tormentor. There was a sharp tug in your arm, the force of it so strong that it made you stumble. They didn’t even wait until you got your balance back, resorting to dragging your limp body.

Each step forward felt like you were walking towards a nightmare you had no control over, and when you reached the guest room, you realized that you knew one of the people who was leading you to your personal hell. You were pushed forward, and before the door shut, possibly forever, you called out to them.

“Wait, Wooyoung, please, wait,” you begged, quickly dashing towards the door to hold it open. “I really need to talk to you, please…”

His eyes held hesitation, but probably after seeing how distressed you were, he closed his eyes and let out the heaviest sigh known to mankind. He turns his head on the other person that dragged you, the rougher one. “Get lost,” he ordered, his face contorted into something intimidating.

But when he closed the door to lean on it, his eyes were the softest you have ever seen. It held sympathy and understanding for your situation, but you weren’t a fool - you knew his loyalties would always lie with Seonghwa.

“The majority of us were betting on your escape, you know?” Wooyoung looked up as he leaned against the doorframe, his hands on his back. “Seonghwa and you were perfect for each other, but that came with a price.”

“Wooyoung,” you sighed.

“Let me finish since I can’t be seen here,” his eyes were hooded as he put a finger on his lips to indicate the decrease of his voice. “Keep it down.“

He pointed at the earpiece he wore, one that everyone wore since Halazia was massive.  His face turned rigid with worry before he turned back to you. “Seonghwa just sent Yunho to the brig for a week.”

You paled, your jaw hanging low in shock. The brig. It was basically a glorified underground cell where they kept whomever they pleased. You wanted to tear up, Yunho went to your defense at the risk of being punished, but as always, Seonghwa knew everything.

The fact that he sent one of his closest friends from his personal team said a lot.

“You’re not going to get far in escape, not like before,” his voice was low, almost soothing like he was trying to calm you down and not make you feel trapped. “You are never going to make it far.” Wooyoung’s eyes turned sadder even further. “I-I can’t do anything to help you, I’m sorry.” You wanted badly to escape, you know he could see it in your eyes, but there was nothing he could do. You swallowed all the emotions that threatened to break you on the surface. “I can’t stay here,” you tried to convince him. “I don’t belong here, Wooyoung.”

“You don’t want to mess with Seonghwa,” he shook his head with equal conviction. “He’s my liege, and I cannot forsake him. He’s the greatest, most notorious criminal known yet, however, I think you underestimate how far he’ll go just to keep you,” he paused, hesitating. “I would very much like you to stay alive, Y/N.”

 Shivers traveled from the base of your spine to the tips of your scalp. “I don’t know what to do,” you squeaked, the defeat weighing down your body. “I don’t want to be his prisoner, I-I can’t live like this…”

He formed his lips into a thin line, his eyes softening as he started to walk towards you in small, careful steps. “I’m not going to pretend it’s alright, because it’s not,” he sat beside you on the bed, his weight dipping on the mattress. He had always been a friend to you. “It takes someone strong to be with Seonghwa, let alone deny him. This is the man that got whatever he wanted no matter how immoral it got. This isn’t the way, Y/N.”

You shook your head frantically, grabbing his hand to squeeze it. “Belonging to him, relinquishing my soul to him, you might as well gag me at that point.”

He put his other hand on top of yours, enveloping it with a much needed warmth that comforted you even though his eyes held pity. “You don’t have to belong to him,” he whispered, voice barely audible. “I’m asking you to stop fighting him.”

Your head snapped up to counteract his ridiculous claim, but he shook his head and continued. “Don’t you get it? There is no escaping him. He will find you even if you’re in the middle of God-knows-where,” he let out a sigh that seemed to carry a lot of burden in it. “I’m saying this for you, because there is no way out where he doesn’t hurt you.”

The finality of what’s been boggling your mind was crushing. You knew that there was no easy way out, but it still hurt to hear. “I’m not going to give up, even if it kills me,” you gritted your teeth, your determination setting fire in your guts.

“Y/N, please,” Wooyoung begged, squeezing your hand tighter. “For what is Yunho in the brig? For what did Jongho drive you away from here back then? And for what did I take Seonghwa’s punch when he realized I was distracting him? He’s not going to let you go, not now, especially not after everything.”

You shut your eyes tightly to reign in your oncoming migraine. “So, what? I’m just supposed to surrender and let him do anything to me? This isn’t love, it’s possession.”

“If you accept this,” he gulped with reluctance. “If you stop fighting, Seonghwa will go easy on you. It’s easier if you stop running.”

Wooyoung searched your eyes, hoping that he conveyed all the sincerity he could possibly offer you given the situation, but all you could see was the sadness and resignation - he didn’t believe in what he was saying, but he had no choice but to.

“Let it go, please,” he whispered, hoarse and defeated. “I’m not saying this for his sake, it’s for you. This will break you, Y/N.”

You shook your head once more. “I can’t give this up, I’m sorry. If I want the easy way out, I would stay here and just take it.”

His eyes sharpened, his brows furrowing into what resembled annoyance, but it still held the pity that Yunho had before you went inside the dresser. “I’m not asking you to give up,” he begged, anger and affection mixed into one. “I’m asking you to stop a battle you know you can’t win.”

You didn’t say anything after that, and his eyes dropped into accepting that you weren’t going to listen to anything he was saying. You’ve made up your mind. Heavy silence stretched between the two of you until, finally, Wooyoung got up to walk to the door. You can see him manually working on his well-crafted mask, but when he turned back to look at you, there was that softness underneath.

“You didn’t hear me say that three days from now, there will be a bust where Seonghwa has to be present, and you certainly didn’t hear from me that underneath your bed is a trapdoor that leads directly to the outdoor garden, one that Seonghwa doesn’t know,” he murmured. There were escape routes Seonghwa purposefully had no knowledge of in case he gets held as a hostage.

He opened the door to let himself out. “And I’m not telling you that Jongho will be waiting for you.”

You couldn’t wait for Seonghwa to leave, it was killing you to wait this long. He hasn’t bothered you at all, presumably because he was very angry at you, but more so since he was planning with the rest of his team, Ateez, about the so-called bust that they will do away from Halazia. In the meantime, you tried the door again. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Wooyoung, but you didn’t want to risk it. It might either be a trap, or he might get in trouble and accompany Yunho in the brig if Seonghwa finds out.

You jumped away from the door, your heart skipping a beat, when the doorknob you were tinkering with suddenly twisted and turned. You backed yourself back on the bed as your door creaked open to reveal someone you weren’t pleased to see.

Mingi stood by the doorway, staring at you in amusement, his eyes flickering between you and the doorknob. You internally cursed, you knew you had been caught. He was most likely outside guarding the door when you tried it. “Just when I thought you couldn’t be stupid enough,” he smirked, mildly annoyed. “Why are you trying to run away again? You just never learn, do you?”

You weren’t expecting to see him, in fact, you were surprised that he was put on guard duty. That was probably why he was pissed. Frankly, Mingi terrified you. He was just one of those members that openly showed his dislike towards you. His presence constantly reminded you of your captivity.

“Don’t project yourself on me,” you scoffed, riling him up. You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing you nervous. “Seonghwa put you on babysit duty. You must hate that.”

He laughed. “I suppose I see the appeal of why Seonghwa has been obsessed with you,” he mockingly tilted his head. “Stop trying, you have zero chance of leaving. Not while I’m here.”

“I’m not your prisoner,” you shot back, clenching your fists to your side. “He can claim me all he wants or force me, but I’m never going to belong to him like a doll. And you are, too.”

His eyes twitched in annoyance, stalking towards you, his arms still crossed. He leaned forward, making you back up in apprehension. “That may be so,” he chuckled darkly. “But I’m not the one who is caged like a fucking bird right now.” "You think you can just run off like this?" Mingi continued, his voice low, his eyes glinting with amusement. "You really believe you have a chance?" 

Mingi leaned away with a satisfied smirk, his arrogance and cruel enjoyment of your struggle really coming through. He was trying to break your resolve with his words, trying to make you believe that escaping is futile, when in reality, it couldn’t be farther from the truth.

Your hands clenched to your sides, controlling your urge to sock Mingi directly in the face not because you were scared to hurt him, but because you were scared that he’ll hit back. “That’s not going to stop me from trying, you brute.”

“Oh, I’m sure you will,” he waved off, backing away towards the door again. “But the thing is,” he paused to taunt you. “You’re not as clever as you think you are. Even if you get past me, you’ll have to get past Yeosang after.”

You paled, your nerves setting your insides on fire. Yeosang wasn’t nearly as infuriating as Mingi, but he was equally as loyal and cruel.

You had to leave now.

“Anyway,” Mingi turned the doorknob to leave, but not without glancing back at you with a sneer. “I will admit, you have balls for leaving him the first time, but Seonghwa already made up his mind this time. He won’t let you go, so I suggest you accept that now.”

And then he left. You glanced at the spot where Wooyoung told you that there would be a door. Truth be told, you haven’t checked yet; you were terrified that Seonghwa was going to walk in any minute and decide to put you somewhere else. 

But there was no time to waste. You waited half an hour to make sure that Mingi wasn’t hanging around before you grabbed a blanket to slide under the feet of the bed to prevent any sounds before pushing it away enough for you to crawl underneath it with ease, and lo and behold. Your mouth felt dry as you stared at the handle of the trapdoor that could potentially lead you to your freedom.

You closed your eyes, praying that there truly was freedom on the other side, that Wooyoung would be safe, and that Yunho wouldn’t stay in the brig for too long. And after this, you will be gone forever.

Waiting until midnight would be the best option for you. Granted, it would also be the time where Seonghwa’s guards would be more alert, but it was a safer bet than somebody potentially walking in the room and chasing you down the trapdoor. Shivers crept up your spine at the thought of getting dragged back.

The silence was killing you, but your thoughts completely annihilated your sanity. You could just picture Seonghwa’s face etched with fury as he realized that you had, once more, escaped under his nose. But you also couldn’t help but think of the hurt that shone in his eyes. All he wanted was you, and you couldn’t fully fault his deranged mind, but you wanted to be free.

As you knelt to grasp the handle the moment that midnight striked, your breaths turned shallow and laboured. You gulped, willing the tremors from your fingertips to go away. You couldn’t falter, not now. With a jolt of adrenaline, you pulled it open, wincing as it creaked, which was a telltale sign of prolonged unuse. You just hoped no one heard it.

You released a breath you were holding when it revealed a ladder that led down, and that there was a dim light illuminating bits of the wooden ladder. That meant that you were nearer the exit than you thought you were.

A faint noise outside your door makes you freeze. You swiftly glanced at the direction, waiting for the moment that Seonghwa would burst in and see you holding a halfway opened trapdoor, but nothing. 

Without another thought, you quickly jumped into action, going down the ladder, your foot hitting the first step as your hand slowly closed the tradoor above you. The moment you did, there was slight relief that coated your chest, it was one step to freedom after all.

It wasn’t fully dark in the damp passageway, the concrete was still visible from where you were walking as that faint light from the exit shone on it as if it was guiding you to your freedom. 

When you were sure you were far from where you came from, you broke into a sprint, running literally for your life. Your legs screamed in protest, not used to exerting energy from the weeks that Seonghwa held you captive, but you didn’t stop. You were scared that he’ll catch and snatch you from behind.

But that didn’t happen. After what felt like an eternity, the passageway began to narrow until you hit a deadend with another ladder, only this time, it led above. Your desperation was hitting you at an all time high - you climbed the ladder without any hesitation, not even stopping to think if there was someone potentially dangerous waiting for you on the other side.

Before you were even fully out, hands were already pulling you out from your armpits until you hit a hard chest. When you looked up, a sigh of relief escaped from your chest. 

“Jongho,” you whispered, your voice cracking at the solace that his presence had brought you. Wooyoung had not been lying. 

Your heart pounded in your chest. It wasn’t like Seonghwa wasn’t going to find out, because he will, but you hoped that Wooyoung and Jongho will be able to buy themselves sometime before then.

“We have to hurry, there’s not much time left,” he hastily pulled you in a run, his voice strained with panic as he kept looking behind him. “There will be guards stationed here in less than five minutes, we have to get to the car by then.”

Your face paled, but you forced yourself to nod, anyway, working your muscles to pick the pace to match Jongho’s, but it was getting difficult. “Are you going to be okay?” You asked, panting hard.

Jongho’s hand held your arm as he practically pushed you forward, shaking his head. “I told San that I was going to check the other side of the property and station on it for a while. It should be enough for me to drive you to your place, but it will be tight.”

“We’re not going to make it,” you panicked, calculating everything in your head and visualizing the outcome.

His jaw set into a hard line and before you could say anything else, he stopped, shoved you behind him, and squatted down. “Hurry,” he barked a command. “Climb on my back, it’ll be faster.”

You hesitated, your nerves getting the best of you, and he could tell. “Climb! Hurry, please!” Jongho hissed, eyes widened in pure panic, as he flailed his arms to gesture for you. 

It was the best course of action. Whether it was the adrenaline or the sheer terror of the situation, Jongho had a burst of strength that allowed him to reach the car faster than it would’ve taken both of you had it not been for his fast thinking. He quickly opens the door to practically shove you inside it before slamming it close, and before you knew it, you were driving away.

The drive back to your apartment was tense. Jongho instructed you to pack as little as possible. Yunho had suggested that they take you to the motel that was on the enemy’s territory. It wasn’t foolproof, but it would lessen the odds of Seonghwa finding you faster before you could fully get away. Even Seonghwa didn’t mess with another mafia’s territory.

“I can’t check you in,” Jongho said as he parked in front of the said motel. “They will recognize me. Use cash from now on, Seonghwa will be able to trace your cards.”

You felt a rush of emotions, a mixture of gratitude and regret. Seonghwa will punish him when he goes back, you could see the small fear behind Jongho’s eyes. You bit your lips, leaning in on his space before pulling him into a tight embrace. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you,” you sniffled, tears pooling in your eyes. 

He pulled you away to stare at you. “I had a promise to you back then,” he said, softness in his eyes. You were the one who got Jongho a ‘job’ at Seonghwa’s manor after you found him homeless one day. He promised you his life then and there. You didn’t know he’d be a ruthless killer one day.

He held you by the shoulders, pushing you away slightly. “Now go, and please, do not let me see you again.”

With one more grateful nod, you walked away without looking back. Jongho sighed, he really hoped you made the most out of tonight. It was basically a suicide mission for him.

The drive back to the manor was the most tense he has ever felt. By now, he was sure that Seonghwa knew that you were gone by now, the only reason why he was still breathing was because he wouldn’t find out yet that he helped you do the impossible. Time was the enemy. 

And he was right. The moment he got out of the car, voices in his in-ear comms were calling everyone to Seonghwa’s office for an emergency meeting. Jongho took deep, calculated breaths, practicing the mask that he was taught before going in to face everybody as if nothing had happened. 

Wooyoung hastily approached him, grabbing his arm to lag behind everybody as he leaned his body towards him. “Success?” He asked tentatively as quietly as possible. Jongho raised a brow in confirmation, not wanting to move anything else for the fear of someone listening in.

The air in the office was thick, everyone piled in one by one in random spots. Personally for Jongho, he always preferred being near the exit, but he had to stick with Wooyoung this time.

Seonghwa was just standing in front of his desk, arms crossed as he watched everyone with his sharp eyes. That was the thing with him; he never needed to shout nor demand, he was just naturally intimidating. His presence was suffocating, his eyes eerily calm.

He’d be a fool if he said he wasn’t expecting this, like Seonghwa had said once, you were the only one strong enough to match his flame. He knew that there would be a time that you’d escape again, but he wasn’t expecting it to come sooner. 

“Someone messed up,” he said softly, too softly. He gazes at them one by one, none of them meeting his eye. “One of you fucked up.”

Jongho tentatively watched as everyone shifted with unease. Mingi and Yeosang shared a tense glance, but he resisted the urge to jump back when he saw that San was already staring at him with suspicion. He gulped, holding eye contact, anyway.

Hongjoong, ever the calm one, steps forward, the edge of his voice betraying his unease. “I’m sure she hasn’t gotten far—”

“Stop,” Seonghwa’s voice was even quieter this time, but it was the type of quiet that made everyone’s back stiffen. He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as he leaned away from the table to walk past everyone. His expression was unreadable, but Jongho didn’t want to guess what he was thinking.

For a while, he doesn’t say anything. The silence in the room screamed louder than any rage could, and for once, everyone wished he would just burst out. This calm, quiet fury was more petrifying. Seonghwa wasn’t angry - not yet. 

San looks away from Jongho, sensing the shift, and speaks up with Hongjoong. “We’ve already checked the perimeter…”

San faltered when Seonghwa cut him off with a single glance, shifting uncomfortably when his boss didn't even acknowledge him, lest you count the slow nodding of his head. It was the only indicator of his thoughts, minus the tight clenching of his fists on his chest. 

“Find her,” Seonghwa murmured, his words clipped and deliberate. “And find her quickly.”

Jongho felt Wooyoung shift forward. He wanted to stop him, but that would raise suspicion so he just bit his lip. “We might not be able to this time,” Wooyoung cleared his throat. “We might fail.”

“Your incompetence doesn’t constitute understanding on my end,” Seonghwa said, stepping in front of them so his back was turned towards everybody else. “So don’t fail me.”

Jongho’s heart dropped to his foot when Seonghwa passed him a fleeting glance, a small smirk painted on his lips before he turned back around again. Seonghwa knew, he fucking knew.

“Boss,” Mingi called out. “Don’t you think maybe this is a sign to not let Y/N back?”

The room suddenly turned cold, the silence of his statement almost deafening to everyone’s ears. Seonghwa raised a brow in challenge. “And why is that, my dear Mingi?”

“My loyalties lie with you, my liege,” Mingi spoke, his tone cautious since he knew he was treading on thin ice. “Y/N is a distraction to the operation.”

Everyone held their breath, the tension was undeniable. Seonghwa’s eyes narrow, his pupils dilating ever so slightly as his lips form into a tight, thin line. “I had no idea you’ve gone senile,” he said. “But I respect the audacity.”

In a split second, Seonghwa’s fist connects with Mingi’s guts. The taller groan in surprise, coughing in agony as he clutched his stomach in pain. “Now, now Mingi, you can’t just dish out something and not learn how to take it,” Seonghwa chuckled darkly, tapping the latter on his cheek mockingly.

“You said you respected it,” Mingi coughed out some more.

“I do, as a matter of fact, I do respect you a lot now. But I didn’t say I wouldn’t harm any of you.”

The threat hangs around the air, looming heavily upon them. ”We’ll find her,” Yeosang spoke for the first time, his tone full of promise.

They were used to this side of Seonghwa, but tonight, there was something slightly different about the rage that brewed in his eyes. His patience was what truly made him terrifying, this was true power; something you had never seen since Seonghwa made sure not to. 

“You better,” he simply said. “Or your loyalty won’t be enough to save any of you. One more word about Y/N, I will put the fear of God in all of you. Now, get out.”

No one wasted any time scurrying out the room as if it was on fire. The moment the door shuts behind them, Seonghwa’s calm shatters. 

His rage boils over, and with a single swipe of his hand, papers that were neatly placed on his desk all fall on the floor, shattering the nearby picture frame that held your face. The sound of crashing glass rings through his office.

Seonghwa bangs his hands on the desk, his breaths coming in rugged and raw. When he saw the broken picture frame, like a man possessed, he smashes it further with a solid step of his foot over and over again. The glass shatters completely, it rains down like the shards of his crumbling control. 

“You fucking,” he forcefully brings his fists down on the picture frame, not caring for the glass shards that punctured his skin. “Bitch.” 

“Fuck,” he hissed, the walls shaking as he kicked the nearby cabinet that contained some of his whiskey bottles. He doesn’t care as the slew of expensive bottles came crashing towards the floor. “Fuck!”

The sound of it made everybody freeze from outside the door. Wooyoung’s knuckles turned white behind his hands as he winced at the loud bang from inside the room. “Should we, uhm,” he started, not daring to finish his sentence.

Yeosang’s eyes widened. “We have to stop him before he—”

“No,” Hongjoong snapped sharply. “Are you crazy? You do not want to go in there.”

Another crash sounds, and Jongho’s jaw tightens. He was glad you weren’t here, because this was the worst Seonghwa has ever been with his rage. He watched MIngi’s eyes tick at the next serieses of growls and roars from Seonghwa.

The stay at the motel was the most peaceful yet tense four days of your life. You couldn’t sleep properly at night, half expecting someone in the middle of the day to burst in and just drag you back to Halazia where Seonghwa would be waiting to imprison you again.

You couldn’t stay there anymore, and that’s why you were on your way to the bus station to finally get away. You already talked to one of your sisters, Jinhee, who called you in a panic the other morning when someone was apparently inconspicuously looking for you. You both decided to stay at your other sister’s place, but Jinah wasn’t answering when you tried to call.

The bus stop was quiet, something you appreciated for once given your hectic life track as of late. Your thoughts were a mess, but you were hopeful for peace the moment you got on the bus.

You tried to look for somewhere to sit while you waited, but the nearest one had somebody seated on it. He wore a dark hat that obscured his face, not that it mattered since the newspaper he held and read covered his entire face, anyway.

You hesitated, strange unease settling in the pit of your stomach. You shook it off, choosing to sit at the far corner of the bench to avoid interaction, convincing yourself that it was probably just the nerves making you paranoid.

“Chilly day,” the man started casually all of a sudden. His voice was rich in timbre, and it sounded familiar. “Autumn’s slowly catching up now, isn’t it?”

Your heart rate picked up a notch, taken aback by the unwarranted small talk. You glanced in his direction briefly, that dread spreading through your veins, and now that you thought about it, he sounded oddly familiar.

“Yeah,” you forced out a reply, not willing to engage, trying your best to calm down. After all this, you just couldn’t shake the bad feeling in your chest.

“Traveling far? I’d say it’s dangerous for a young lady like you,” he commented, adjusting himself to scoot closer to you.

Alarm bells went off your head as you felt your skin prickle with the attention. You wanted to say that it was none of his business, and now that you listened closer, he didn’t even sound that old, either. “Sure,” you said quickly. “Just want to get away from this city.”

“Good idea,” he chuckled, shuffling the newspaper and folding it away from his face. “I mean, if people were chasing me from hell under, I would run far, far away as well, but you see…”

Your breath was completely snuffed out of your lungs when the man took the hat off of his face, his head turning towards you with a slow, amused smile. “Like we all said, there was no point in running, Y/N,” San’s voice dropped into a whisper. “I like you, Y/N, I really do, but you are one stubborn girl. He does care for you, you know? It’s sick and obsessive, but he does. And now all he wants to do is hurt you.”

Your froze, your blood hardening into ice. The panic hit you like a tidal wave, where had you gone wrong? You made sure to do everything that Jongho told you to do, made sure that you left no traces of yourself, so how? You felt so stupid for not recognizing San so fast.

You shoved yourself up from the bench, but before you could take a step, his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist with a vice-like grip. “Not so fast,” he murmured, his voice cold now, his earlier casualness gone.

You yanked your arm, but he only tightened his hold. “We’re going back,” he said, his tone final. “And you’re not getting away this time. Unless, you want all the people in here jeopardized,” he gestured his hand all over the station. “Look closer.”

Every instinct screaming at you to run, to fight, to do something, but when you looked around, something didn’t feel right, and then you saw them.

Shivers went up your spine as you recognized some of Seonghwa’s men blended into the crowd like normal people. They were planted, hidden in plain sight, like the briefest flash of the gun tucked in their pants that you knew by now how to spot. They were willing to endanger the people around you just to take you.

It was over. You had no choice but to follow San as he escorted you to the car, the door shutting with a sickening finality. This was the worst case scenario, you’d rather have Mingi because as much of a brute he was, you could predict his actions, with San, you never knew what he was thinking.

Angry tears of shame and sorrow began flowing from your eyes. You knew that this was it for you, your second chance had flown away. Seonghwa and his men had no mercy, and now you’re learning that the hard way.

San wasted no time dragging you out of the car towards your apartment, to your surprise,, but you no longer cared about him, it was Seonghwa that you feared - always had. You could feel it even before you saw him; Seonghwa’s constricting presence was always controlled but deadly.

You were shoved inside the familiar space of your living room, and you didn’t even have to look up to know that he was there, you could just feel him. His power, his rage, hung in the air like thick smoke.

Seonghwa was at the other side of the room, his gaze meeting yours, steady and unwavering. You swallowed your nerves, but there was no point. He just stared at you without any anger or frustration in his face, and perhaps, that was the worst part in all of this. You knew him well enough to see through his well-crafted mask.

You opened your mouth to say something - anything - but what would you say? There was no way you were going to apologize or make any excuses, but the silence was unbearable. Seonghwa wasn’t going to break it anytime soon, but he had no need to. His judging eyes were enough to make you weak in the knees.

He began to walk forward, the clacking of his shoes beneath his feet loud enough to make you wince, and when he reached you, he made no move to touch you like he always did. He did nothing.

Nothing, except hand you a lighter for you to take. “Light it up,” he spoke.

His words were quiet, but there was no mistaking that command in it. Your hands were shaking, having difficulty flicking the lighter open, and it certainly didn’t help that Seonghwa was staring you down. Though you currently hated him, you were careful not to burn his face as your hand neared the cigarette trapped between his lips.

“Open.”

He wasn’t asking, he was instructing. You froze at the implication and everything instinct in you screamed for you to run and resist, but you leaned in as he inhaled deeply before taking the stick out of his mouth and blowing the smoke into yours. The taste of it was raw and bitter, it curled into your lungs along with something else; something that sent a rush of heat towards your chest at the intimacy.

For a while, he didn’t say anything, and you wished that it remained that way even though you were scared that the control he held of himself was going to shatter. “You think you can walk away from me?” Seonghwa finally spoke again, his voice low, still calm, but it cut through the silence like a blade. “Open.”

It was difficult, but you managed not to cough your lungs out at the heavy puff of smoke that almost made you want to gag. But Seonghwa didn’t care. “Keep your trap open until I tell you to close them,” he ordered with a low snarl.

You did as told, the fear completely paralyzing you. His voice was still controlled, his rage was held so tightly within him that it was like the room was vibrating with the power of it. Tears pooled from the corners of your eyes as Seonghwa still blew, and finally, he threw the cigarette butt away somewhere in the middle of the destruction.

“That’s a good girl,” he chuckled darkly. You yelped when he held your jaw tightly in his hand. “Why can’t you be this obedient all the fucking time?”

His grip tightened, not with the frantic violence of someone losing control, but with the calm, methodical pressure of someone who knew exactly how far they could push before breaking someone completely. "Why can’t you behave, huh? Why?"

You faltered, absolutely not liking the way that sounded in your head. You crossed your arms, the fear you had for him completely fizzing out and dying in your chest. “Now, hold on just a second,” you seethed, all the stress of running away and getting caught chasing your filter away.

Seonghwa’s brow raised. It certainly made him curious, so he let you continue. “Seonghwa, you practically kidnapped me with the notion of letting me go afterwards, and when I try to get away from this hell, you drag me down with you. Did you honestly think that I'm a possession you can cling to?”

You were definitely digging your grave deeper and deeper the more you opened your mouth, but you couldn’t take it anymore. All the hurt, the anxiety, the waiting for when Seongha will finally snap was driving you to the wall. You didn’t know how to carry all of this burden alone.

You took a step forward in a burst of confidence, jutting your finger on his chest and prodding him with it like a child. “Enough is enough, Seonghwa,” you said, your voice low and firm. “We were through, we aren’t together anymore. I don’t belong to you, and I sure as hell don’t want to belong to you anymore.”

He clenched his fists, a flicker of hurt crossing his face. Seonghwa opened his mouth to argue like you knew he would, but you cut him off, your voice stronger than you’ve ever heard it before as you finally stood up to him and stood your ground. “I’ve had enough of you trying to cage me like an animal, you sick fuck. You don’t get to suffocate me with your obsession, you don’t get to decide how I fucking live, breath, and exist.”

Tears stung your eyes. They were a mixture of rage and betrayal. The weight of it all was finally breaking through. “You don’t get to guilt me for wanting to live my life, especially without you, why can’t you understand?”

For a moment, Seonghwa’s gaze softened, as if he was finally looking through you for the first time in a while in a different light. He tentatively raised a hand to hold onto you, and his intentions were pure this time as his hand hovered in the air,  but he flinched when you yanked your arm away sharply.

It was too late, you didn’t need that. There was guilt written all over his face, had he really gone too far this time?

“You were never really here for me,” you continued, shaking your head bitterly.

You were done. Done being scared of him, done of losing yourself because of him. Done loving him. “You want to keep a convoluted version of me that you formed in your head, that one that would just stay and follow your every whim, but that’s not who I am, Seonghwa.”

He stood frozen in his spot, his chest caving in as guilt made its way to his heart. He had never intended to fully hurt you, to make you feel that way you did, and for that, he was sorry to a certain extent. Seonghwa’s hand trembled, his palms slick with sweat as angry tears flew down your pretty face. He almost felt bad for you.

Almost.

“The thing I regret the most is you, Seonghwa,” you whispered firmly, but thick with emotion. “I regret ever meeting you and what happened after, but most of all, I regret not leaving you sooner.”

His eyes dropped, the weight of your words crushing his form. “Don’t say that,” he muttered, his voice shaky. His shoulders were slumped, a far cry from his angry and straight they were when you arrived. “I just,” he paused, closing his eyes to take a deep breath. “As fucked up as this is, I do love you, I still do.”

Your breath hitched at your words. “No, Seonghwa. You don’t know what love is, and even if you do, you love me a bit too much that you’re not allowing me to leave a little for myself because you want it all.”

“But, don’t say that you regret everything,” he said exasperatedly. “I loved you with all that I have, I will continue that until I cease to exist. Remember when we went on that trip where you told me you finally loved me, too? Or when we both would stay up all night to watch the stars while we talked about our future?”

He held your hands, almost desperately, as his words  just spilled out from him without thinking. “Those were real, that was us, and you might not believe me, but I swear on Ateez those were all true. You can’t deny them.”

It was true that you and Seonghwa had good moments where you wanted them to last forever, but they felt distant, like a fleeting dream that never happened. “I don’t regret our moments,” you pulled your hands away. “I regret that you twisted them into something dark.”

You wanted to deny what he said to make him feel a fraction of all the hardships he had brought upon you, but you couldn’t. Just like his actions, you could never take back your words. I did the right thing, you thought, your heart aching as you stared at the lone tear that fell from Seonghwa’s eye. 

He wasn’t the only one. You weren’t ready to let go either, but this was a start. It was a truth you weren’t going to admit to his face. You were in love with Park Seonghwa, and you couldn’t breathe because you always will be, but love wasn’t supposed to hurt like this. Love can never be designed.

Seonghwa stiffened, his mind reeling with all the things you’ve finally let out for him to hear. I regret everything. It echoed like a broken record in his head, and yet, a part of him couldn’t let go. He shook his head, trying to reel in his thoughts before they no longer became his, trying to pull in the beast that was threatening to break free from his mind.

But your words reverberated in his skull, the pressure building on it from the suffocating guilt that covered his head. He didn’t want to hurt you anymore, but it was too late.The realization was like a punch to his gut, and he had no one to blame but himself.

You watched him fight his demons, slight fear coming back into your chest, but you waited to see what he’s going to do. 

Seonghwa’s breathing became ragged and laboured as he tried to massage his temples into coherency. Why didn’t he just let you the first time? No, he was doing what he thought was right, because his all-consuming love needed you so much. His mind grew darker and before he could lash out, he walked away from you and turned around.

For a long moment, silence filled the room. You watched Seonghwa try and compose himself, his hands shaking repeatedly while his head shook back and forth. It was like Seonghwa was actively trying to cast out and fight the demons that tried to possess his soul before it could completely take over him.

But when he turned around, the look in his eyes told you that it was too late. Seonghwa knew it was too late, he had done too much, the only way to move was forward.

“I want to kill you,” he softly admitted. “To finally stop your ghost from haunting me. But I can’t live without you.”

The confession left a painful tightness in your throat, but you remained strong and steadfast. You weren’t even angry anymore, you were just tired of him walking over you. “You’ve gone mad,” you stated. “Scaring me isn’t the way to go about this.”

“It is better to be feared than loved, if I cannot have both,” he replied rhetorically, digging into the waist of his pants to pull out a pistol. He stood there, not lifting it yet, but the way he gripped the cold metal of the gun had you trembling in your spot.

You didn’t move - you couldn’t move. Seonghwa’s guilt mixed with his anger, twisting his mind into something else. He never lost control like this, but he had also never felt his heart break into a million pieces like this.

The gun shook in his hand, the barrel still aimed at the floor. It was wrong and he knew it, but you were his everything, and now, not only were you walking away from him, but you were completely disintegrating in his head into nothing but somebody that he used to know. 

“Seonghwa,” you whispered, barely audible from the demons that screamed in your own head. “Don’t make me leave like this, please, put the gun down.”

He didn’t move, didn’t say anything. It was worse than you thought, his mind was far more gone than you thought possible. You continued, swallowing your nerves down, more than ready to plead for your life. “Please, Seonghwa. I’m no one, just L/N Y/N, a 27-year old nobody,” your voice cracked.

Your legs finally gave out and you chose to sit on the floor. You looked up at him, putting your hands up like some sort of Hail Mary. “I was a nobody you stumbled upon in that restaurant, I was born in a dinky little town you had no idea existed. My parents are both teachers, and I have two sisters. Please Seonghwa, I haven’t done anything at all in this life, I haven’t lived, I’ve barely just begun, please, I haven’t finished anything at all.”

You sniffled, trying to keep your tears at bay. “D-Don’t kill me,” you pleaded. “I don’t want to die.”

Seonghwa contemplates. You practically watched the gears in Seonghwa’s head turn, his mind racing in a frantic spiral. You were surprised when he gave you the gun, grabbing your hand ro wrap it around the handle, kneeling down to your level on the floor, and pointed the barrel at himself, the tip pressing on his forehead.

“If you shoot me, what will you leave behind?” Seonghwa asked.

Your heart twisted violently at the odd question. It was more cruel than pointing the gun at you, because you knew that your answer would be dependent on whether you will live or not.

“A world without you,” you answered without hesitation.

You couldn't take Seonghwa's unnecessary obsession with you anymore. Seonghwa stared at you, his brows furrowing as he internalized the answer that you gave him.

"Go ahead and shoot, dove," Seonghwa said. "It's the only way you'll ever be free of me."

You stood frozen in your spot, the gun feeling cold in your hands. You've dreamt of this for so long, about completely ridding yourself of Seonghwa so you could get back the freedom he had stolen from you a long time ago. He looked vulnerable and open, while you were given a chance to make that dream come true.

And yet, you couldn't do it.

And Seonghwa knew you couldn't do it. He smirked. You screamed, a pitiful attempt at it, as he dismantled you and grabbed the gun back, only this time, it was pointing at you, instead. "You could have pulled the trigger and painted the walls with my brain," he taunted, cocking the safety lever. "Let's play a game of Russian Roulette."

"What's that going to accomplish?"

"If you give me a minute, I could change your mind," he shrugged. "But if you give me a bullet, I could change your life."

Seonghwa points a gun at your face, point blank, the nozzle pressing down your forehead. "What say you, Y/N?"

He was crazy. You closed your eyes, resigning to your fate. Seonghwa pulls the trigger, and then nothing. You couldn’t believe it, but still, you heaved a sigh of relief. You should have known that the gun was empty.

When you opened your eyes again, Seonghwa was livid. You release a cry that you've been holding. He grabbed your head, furious. "The love I'm willing to give you terrifies you, but death doesn't?”

This was it. It was this moment that will forever haunt you, because this was the moment that you knew something in Seonghwa had snapped.

Your breath got caught in your throat, the reality of the situation sinking in on you. His eyes gleamed with insanity, his pupils dilated with something wild and manic, and the feverish look in them twisted with madness that made your blood run cold. There was nothing human about it. Seonghwa was beyond saving.

“You’re scaring me, Seonghwa, please, let go,” you trembled in his grip, but he didn’t even notice. He was so lost.

“You think love is supposed to be sweet, gentle, or some other bullshit that’s supposed to feel good?” Seonghwa gnarled with unsettling fervor, nails digging into your skin. He shook his head violently. “No, it’s supposed to be consuming, something that takes everything. Just like what you’ve taken from me.”

“I didn’t take anything from you,” you thrashed around from his grip when his other hand held your hips to settle you, not caring if he scratched you at this point with the other. “S-Seonghwa, stop it!”

At the height of your desperation, you collapsed onto the floor with him, it was how hard he was gripping your waist as he tried to run away. His hands slam onto the ground when he ended up underneath him, but what truly horrified you was when he threw his head back and started laughing out loud. It was no longer the laugh of a regular person, the sound of it was shrill, hollow, and maddened. “Let me explain something to you,” he gritted his teeth, leaning down. “Love can be nurtured and rebuilt. It’s a pathetic attempt to construct something out of nothing, and I will dismantle and reshape yours until you look at me with the same love you used to look at me with before you—”

Your hand flew to his face before you could think, slapping his cheek with such force the crack of it was so loud against the room. You were horrified, you didn’t mean to hurt him, but the idea of what he was saying just sickened you because love can’t be molded from blood and pain. Seonghwa’s eyes darted towards yours, and for a split second, he looked betrayed.

That is, until his face contorted into something grotesque, and he grabbed your hands. You paled, because he started banging his head on your fists violently as he screamed, a horrible primal sound that came from within his guts.

“No, no, no!” Seonghwa bellowed like a madman. “I just want you to love me—”

“Seonghwa, stop it, stop!” You screamed, trying to pry your hands back from him because you were genuinely scared now, not even caring that your hands were hurting really bad from the hardness of his head.

“Stop!”

He paused, eyes bulged with fury. He lets go of your hands and you let them fall to your sides as you watch him get off of you to drop on his knees and bang his fists on your wooden floor. “I can’t take this anymore,” his breath came in jagged rasps. “I”m not crazy, fuck. Fucking hell, Y/N. I just want you.”

He broke down. You sat down, completely scooting away from him, watching as his tears fell down. His sobs, you were terrified of how guttural and broken they sounded. It was the image of a man who had lost his mind so long ago. “How can you do this to me?” Seonghwa growled through his tears. “This is the second time you left me, how can you fucking do this to me?”

His forehead was pressed against the unforgiving surface of the floor. His sobs were quiet at first, and it did hurt to hear. You clearly weren’t the only one suffering whether it was wrong or right. Soon enough, his cries became louder, more devastatingly raw, and more desperate.

Against your better judgment, you not only felt fear for yourself, but for Seonghwa as well. A split second of thought passes through you, had you made him like this? You knew that wasn’t the case, but as you stared at the tremors that shook his entire frame, you couldn’t help but think that you had some sort of part in this.

This wasn’t Seonghwa, what had become of the man you used to love?

Your heart pounded in your chest when his gaze met yours. You didn’t even have time to scream as he charged towards you to grip your shoulders. “Love me,” Seonghwa grinned, teeth bared, eyes widened with insanity. “That should fix this, love me once more, pretty dove. Be mine again.”

“You don’t know what you want,” you back up, terror seeping in your bones. 

“No, you don’t understand,” he grabbed your shoulders tighter and a yelp slipped your lips. He tightened his hold, his eyes widening a bit more that he resembled a mental asylum patient. ”Love me.”

Tears fall down your eyes in sheer horror. Seonghwa bites his lips, groaning in pleasure at your scared display. You flinched when the back of his shaking hands tried to caress your cheeks. 

It was a mistake. His eyes squint dangerously, yet his lips still remained in that disturbed smile, frozen in his face perpetually. “Seonghwa, please, you’re scaring me—-“

“I love you so much, dove,” he cooed mockingly. His fists bunched up your hair in a tight bun and pulled on your head. “Why is it so fucking difficult for you to love me back?”

Pitiful screams erupt from your mouth as Seonghwa rattled your head around, as if doing so would make you change your mind. Your hands tried to pry his hands, the pain on your scalp blooming bigger. “Seonghwa, s-stop, please! Please!”

To your utter surprise, amidst your dizziness, he does stop. Your eyes were nearly rolling behind your head and if he didn’t stop, you might have thrown up. His tear-streaked, bloodshot eyes emphasized the current state of his mind as he cradles your face in between his hands almost lovingly,

Almost. It felt infantilizing. It made you sick.

“Are you going to love me now?” Seonghwa asked one more time, his eyes flicking between tenderness and madness. “Do you fucking love me now?”

A strained whimper escapes your throat, a choked out cry accompanying it. It was a sick symphony; a travesty made worse when Seonghwa leaned in until his lips were touching the shell of your ear.

"Tell me you love me," he ordered, his voice deceptively soft.  "I might do something you and I will both regret if you don't."

You swallowed, quivering with intense dread. Your knees threatened to buckle under all the weight of what Seonghwa was demanding of you at this very moment. "I-I love you, please..."

You held your breath when Seonghwa put his fingers on either side of your mouth, stretching them sideways to give the illusion that you were actually smiling. It was something straight out of a horror film, your tears wouldn't stop falling as he literally forced a smile out of you.

"That wasn't so hard, wasn't it? You did it," he praised, stroking your hair gently like he wasn't doing anything wrong. To be fair, in his mind, he wasn't doing anything wrong.

You jumped when he suddenly grabbed your chin and squeezed your cheeks together. It was slightly painful, and it elicited a pained groan from you. "But, I don’t believe you."

He pushed your face away with such a force, your head snapped to the side. It was when your legs lost their strength and you crumpled to the ground in one heap of a mess. And you knew deep in your heart, Seonghwa’s show of cruelty wasn’t what was truly crushing you.

The most painful thing about all of this was that despite all of this insanity, despite all the chaos and madness, was that you weren’t lying - you still loved Seonghwa. You still loved him with every fiber of your being.

True imprisonment wasn’t him forcing you into a room and locking you in and not letting you go until he was satisfied, it was all these feelings trapped in your heart even if it threatened to tear you apart. Seonghwa was not a good person, he was a monster, yet the love still lingered, clinging to you like a disease.

This pain in your heart, it was the proof that you still loved him. And that is the worst of it, you knew better than this.

Finally, something in Seonghwa’s chest began to lift as he stared at your pitiful form. When he closed his eyes, for what felt like an eternity, images of your smile filled his head. For a moment, he was filled with the love he felt for you for the first time, that pureness before it got tainted with something dark.

“I’ll let you go,” he whispered brokenly. His eyes filled with a broken kind of longing, eyes searching your face to read your expression. “I love you, Y/N. God, I love you. But I’m letting you go. I can’t live like this, either. I have an organization waiting for me.”

He hesitated, his voice hoarse with resignation. “One last time. Before you go. One last night, together. No more pain, no more bitterness. Just us.”

You almost didn’t want to believe it, was Seonghwa really going to let you go? Surely, it couldn’t be this easy. You highly doubted what he said, just staring at him with suspicion. He sighed frustratedly, his hands combing his hair in a mess and letting them hang over his face. You frowned, the state of his hair was the state of his mind. He hated it getting messed up.

His words came out strained. For a second, you felt bad for him. He was giving up, Seonghwa never gave up, but this was it, your ticket to freedom. “I would never stop wanting you, and needing you, Y/N. You have to get away from me.”

“Okay,” you whispered, trying to summon the courage to feel what you had in your heart even if it was for tonight. “One last time.”

“Prove it,” he suddenly blurted out. His eyes locked with yours, and your chest almost exploded with the urgent need in them. “I want to believe you, dove, I really do. I can see it in your eyes. Come with me.”

Here come the excuses that fuel the illusions, but you’d rather feel something, than nothing at all. 

You should have felt repulsed, but here you were, grabbing the hand that he offered until he pulled you to the other room, one that you knew all too well. Seonghwa’s lips were on yours before you could think of anything else. 

A groan sounds from the back of his throat as he pins you to the wall, his kisses frantic and desperate as if he was trying to feed his own illusions. You opened your mouth to take his intruding tongue, the wet muscle exploring the crevices of your mouth like he’s never done it before.

You wanted to cry, how could you still give him all of you when he was a far cry from the person you used to know? You suddenly didn’t know who was truly insane here, the roots of his madness had slowly uprooted themselves in you and it was difficult to pluck them away at this point.

You hated this, even as his mouth was hot and bruising against yours, because despite the danger in his eyes and the way his hands shook with the need to possess you, your heart still ached to reach for him.

“H-Hwa,” you gasped when he pulled your head backwards by your head, exposing your beck to his desires.”

“Shhh,” he hushed you, burying his head on the crook of your neck, wasting no time planting his love bites to mark you, the one he knew that drove you crazy. Stars aligned your vision as he sucked the delicate skin of your neck, taking his time to graze his teeth on them and alternating between the two.

You’d really rather feel something, than nothing at all.

He grabbed your hand, firmly guiding it to his crotch, using his other hand to unzip his pants and lower them. He wraps your hand on his aching cock, gasping softly as you feel it hard and pulsing in your hand. “F-Fuck, baby,” he hissed. “Touch me, please, I-I need it.”

Your breathing grew faster as you closed your hand around it and began stroking it. His moans of pleasure hit your ear followed by the sensual calling of your name that slipped from his tongue and you couldn’t help but squeeze him. You cried out in surprise when both his hands quickly slipped under your shirt and grabbed your breasts, his fingers digging in deep.

“Seonghwa! H-Hwa,” you breathed out, not caring for the consequences. You forgot the fear, just focusing on his lips that still attacked your neck.

“Take your panties off, dove,” he panted, his ragged breaths against your ear turning the last coherent parts of your brain into mush. “Now, love dove, please.”

You didn’t let his cock go - you didn’t want to - turning your head a bit to whisper in his ear, “Yes, mommy,” in the most sensual voice you’ve ever mustered, surprising even yourself. You obeyed, your panties hitting the floor.

“Oh, fuck, my love, y-you can’t just do that,” he growled, shuddering against your skin.

“W-Why? I like the way you touch me,” you breathed out as his fingers adeptly plucked your nipples with his fingers, rolling them in between to stimulate pleasure out of you in the best way possible.

He chuckled, planting a soft kiss on your temple. “Let go.”

You pouted in dissatisfaction when his hands stopped fondling your breasts and pulling yours away from his cock, but your eyes widened when he lifted one of your legs up and held it up, pressing onto your body impossibly closer. “Look at me,” he grunted. “Look at me.”

You’ve never been fucked standing up before. You kept your eyes on him, almost exploding at how hooded and lidded they were as sweat trailed down from his temples to his lashes. “Hwa, o-oh my God, mmm,” you moaned out when he positioned his cock in between your pussy lips.

He gives you a lazy smile as he rubs the head on your clit, satisfaction rolling through him at the ecstasy written on your face. “You want it?” Seonghwa softly asked even though he was aching to plunge inside you immediately.

You found yourself questioning the reality of what was happening, doubting, but your body had other plans. You haven’t seen Seonghwa smile without any malice in a long, long time. You lifted your head, you had to lean it against Seonghwa’s own forehead since he was basically towering over you. You heard his gulp hard, watched him close his eyes. It was all he needed to know.

“Seonghwa,” you cried out when he started to enter you, his hand snaking on your behind to push you towards his intruding cock, completely filling you to the brim with his throbbing thickness. The both of you still had your tops on, but it didn’t stop his heat from migrating towards you. “S-So good.”

“Oh, fuck,” he growled under his breath, burying his head on your shoulders once more to savour the sensation of your pussy clenching around him as he began thrusting into you with a brutal pace of his hips. “Hold on tight, sweetie, I’m going to fuck you harder, yeah?”

“M-Mhhm—Hwa, mmm, Hwa!” Your cries were loud and grating against your throat, the pleasure overtaking all of your senses. You were pretty sure his men heard it from outside the house. You didn’t care, all you felt was Seonghwa’s hot breath against your ear as he nibbled on it.

You gasped when he pulled out momentarily to peel you off the wall. He turned you around before he pushed you again, growling as his cock entered you from behind this time. You couldn’t stop the blush forming on your cheeks as you faced the floor-length mirror you had in your room, Seonghwa’s dark eyes watching your tits sway back and forth from his thrusts.

“You should be ashamed of yourself,” he taunted, his hand groping one of your tits. “Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? Look at you, fucking yourself back on my cock.”

You cried as he hit a particular spot inside you as your hips buckled to meet his. He points at somewhere in particular. “Why don’t you be a sweetheart and give that gun back to me?”

You didn’t care anymore, you were drowning in pleasure, far too gone to think about what he was asking you. You scrambled, getting his pistol from the nightstand where he put it earlier and handed it to him. “S-Seonghwa—”

“I love you so fucking much, you don’t even understand,” he groaned amidst the slapping of skin on skin echoing through the walls of your bedroom. Your hips stilled momentarily when he pointed the gun on the back of your head. “Relax,” he chuckled. “It’s not loaded, remember?”

You licked your lips, actually ashamed at the arousal that coated your inner walls, subconsciously clenching on Seonghwa’s cock at the image you saw on the mirror in front of you. “Fuck me,” he mouthed, digging the gun into your hair.

“Fuck, Seonghwa,” you choked out, moving your hips once more to feel his thick length move inside you. This wasn’t supposed to be hot, it wasn’t supposed to be this much of a turn on for you, but it was.

“You wanna know something, baby?” Seonghwa leaned towards your ear, his grunts spurring your hips to move backwards and forward. “You’re just as sick as I am. You really should be ashamed of yourself for getting turned on about this.”

You moaned impossibly louder as you shoved your behind faster on him over and over again, his full length stretching you out with each thrust. This image will be ingrained in Seonghwa’s brain forever, and he wasn’t going to last another second longer. “G-Gonna come, baby—fuck.”

You gasped, clamping around his length as you felt his warmth fill up your insides. Seonghwa growled loudly, his breathing strained and laboured as he thrust in a couple more times before suddenly pulling out and kneeling down. “H-Hwa, what are you—”

Your eyes rolled at the back of your head at his tongue’s onslaught, your arousal mixed with his sticky cum dripping down from your hole all the way down his tongue as he lapped on it, some of the excess trailing down from your thighs all the way down to your feet. Your hands planted themselves on Seonghwa’s hair, unconsciously pulling on it as you continued to cream in his mouth.

The way his tongue rolled on your sensitive bud had your knees buckling, but Seonghwa made sure to keep you up, not even bothering to pause, and just like a hurricane, the force of your orgasm knocked the wind out of your lungs as the hot, searing flash of white blinded you for a couple of second.

It set you on fire, and he dove at your pussy with enthusiasm. Seonghwa took long, broad licks of your pussy, pausing every so often to push his whole tongue into you, wiggle it around, and then focus on your clit.

He repeated this pattern a dozen times, you had your hands in his hair, and as you approached orgasm, your grip got tighter and tighter. Seonghwa groaned at the sensation, and finally, you let loose with another loud moan, forcing his face into you even further as you reached your second climax. “Seonghwa…”

“Just like that, baby, come on my tongue, mmm,” Seonghwa coaxed you through the wild shaking of your body until you let out the deepest sigh accompanied with a small whine of overstimulation. His licks slowed down, his hands caressing your soft thighs, before finally stopping to stand back up.

“Get on the bed,” he held your arm and slightly pushed you towards it without even waiting for your response.

You blinked repeatedly at him. “W-What?”

“You heard me,” he deadpanned, unbuttoning his crisp, white shirt before tossing it randomly somewhere along with the gun. “On your back. I’m not done fucking you.”

You weren’t supposed to be turned on by that, but you were. You swallowed when you looked down and realized he was still fully hard even after coming inside you. You did as told, trying hard not to stutter in your steps as you laid on your bed, letting Seonghwa spread your legs to position himself in between them.

“Arms up,” he whispered. You did as told without hesitation, letting him also take your shirt off along with your bra until you were completely bare beneath him. He groaned at the sight of you, especially your glistening pussy, still half-full with his cum. “Stubborn as you are, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, leaning down to capture your lips.

“I want you inside me," you whispered to his mouth and his eyes closed in bliss as you guided his hard cock to your wet, slick pussy.

For a moment, you forgot how deranged he was. Seonghwa poured all the love, no matter how crazed it was, his affection, and his passion in the kiss. You quickly accommodated him, kissing him back just as passionately, immediately tasting yourself and him on your tongue. “Mhhm,” you whimpered as you felt his cock slowly slide into you.

He pulled away to whisper against your mouth. “Wrap your legs around me, love.”

You did as told, moaning in his mouth as he pushed himself more until he was, once again, all the way inside you as deeply as he could. You swallowed Seonghwa’s moans, his thrusts shallow. He would pull in just enough for the tip to remain before slowly thrusting back into you. 

He was as gentle as possible, but it wasn’t going to last long. You hoped it didn’t last.

“Fuck, Y/N, this pussy is mine,” Seonghwa growled, giving it to you exactly as you wanted - hard, fast, rough -  not caring if you were a screaming mess. He just kept pounding you down the mattress and it shook the bed with how forceful he was.

“Tell me you love me, even if it’s just for tonight,” he begged, eyes filled with unshed tears as he stared down at you. “Even if it’s a lie, tell me you love me.”

But that was the thing. It wasn’t going to be a lie. His eyes widened a bit when he realized that you weren’t going to be lying. 

“I love you, Hwa. I love you,” you sniffled with tears of your own. 

He smiled. He smiled. “I love you, too, my dear,” he whispered. “I really do.”

“Hwa, Hwa, H-Hwa, f-fuck,” you clenched at the sight of him on top of you, the usual prim and proper look on him long gone, replaced by someone primal who devoured you whole. 

“Louder, baby,” he groaned out loudly, his eyes dropping heavily with lust, his hips slamming onto your ass obscenely. “I want the entire neighbourhood to know who you belong to, f-fuck.”

His groans were just as loud as yours, it was honestly such a turn on. He smirked at your fucked out expression. “Look at you, baby,” he chuckled darkly, leaning down to press lightly on your neck. “Fuck, look at you going dumb around my cock, yes, squeeze me, love, squeeze my fucking cock.”

You didn’t want to be fucked anymore, you needed to be destroyed. “Fuck, yes, just like that, my love, feel my fucking cock deep in you,” he panted out, slamming into you even harder.

He was going deeper in you with all his might, sweat dripping down from his forehead to your chest. His arms rippled as he supported his own weight and you felt his back muscles moving as he continued with his assault on your poor pussy. 

“D-Don’t stop, Hwa, please, keep f-fucking,” you begged, stars lighting up your vision everytime you felt the tip of his cock hit the back of your pussy.

You could hear Seonghwa groan and curse earnestly, barely audible over the hard smacks of your hips against the solid wall of his thighs. You could barely keep yourself together as he used you like a toy. “My only purpose is to fuck you over and over again,” he gritted out, holding your head in his hands as your body went back and forth on his cock. “You ready to take my cum again?”

You nodded, eyes wide in anticipation. “Y-Yes, mommy, give me your cum, please.”

His hips stuttered, his mouth dropping down, roughly pounding into you. “You, fuck,” he moaned out, his voice roaring loudly in the air. “Y-You will never, ever be satisfied with someone else once I’m through with you.”

Seonghwa’s face twisted in concentration, his teeth gritting as his thrusts slowed down, and you gasped audibly when you felt another round of his seed warm the walls of your pussy. “Y/N, dove, a-ah, fuck,” he whimpered, his voice high pitched with all the pleasure he felt as he pulsated inside you.

You were delirious at this point, but when he gripped your legs tightly once more to hoist them up his shoulders, you sobered up really quick. You squealed pathetically, his reinsertion setting your nerves on fire. “H-Hwa, f-fuck–”

“That’s it, baby,” Seonghwa moaned, his eyes fluttering close, biting his bottom lip at the quivering sensation that ruled his body. Overstimulation threatened to snap his cock into two, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted all of you.

“Baby, fuck, ngh,” he whined, his deep voice absolutely nowhere to be found and, God, it absolutely did something to you. His eyes closed shut, his hips stuttering in the cadence of his never-ending thrusts. You didn’t have time to be surprised, Seonghwa was insane. Surely, it didn’t just stop there. 

Your lips crashed together once more in a hungry kiss, Seonghwa’s hips pistoning into you in and out, grunts of pain reaching your ears. “I’m g-gonna keep fucking you,” he gritted his teeth, pain blooming on his groin, pleasure just right behind it. “I’m not gonna stop…”

He completely engulfed you in his arms as your legs dropped down to his waist to tighten your grip on him, pulling him impossibly closer to you, grinding onto his body with a delicious friction.

If it was possible, the overstimulating pain made Seonghwa rougher, more intense, and more desperate than ever before. The bed squeaked beneath you but you could barely hear it over Seonghwa’s roars. “You’re mine, Y/N, you’re all mine, fuck,” he growled, his teeth sinking into your shoulder. “Mine.”

“Seonghwa, a-ah, S-Seonghwa, wanna c-come,” you whined at the pain, but it just made him bite deeper. It was all you needed to feel that familiar tickle in your groin, and your heat began to wrap around him even tighter at the sensation. “O-Oh, S-Seonghwa, come inside me—”

It was all he needed to come undone. You gasped audibly when he put his hands behind your head to forcibly make you look him in the eye. His eyes blazed with fury and determination amidst the pain of his cock driving in and out of you. The insanity was back, and he made sure you saw it. 

“I’ll breed you. Put my babies in you so you’d never leave me again,” he panted, hilting himself with one final thrust before yelling out on your shoulders, barely muffling the sound. 

You weren’t completely drowning in that much pleasure to agree. “H-Hwa, baby, t-this isn’t right,” you whimpered, mouth dropped open at the tingling sensation another orgasm wanted to bring. 

You felt his seed shoot inside you one final time and it was all you needed. “Come, baby, come on my cock, please, please, please, come on my fucking cock,” he gasped as the pleasure become to much for him. 

Your body began to seize against his hold. Seonghwa covered your lips with his with a kiss that spoke volumes. He let you moan onto his tongue as your cunt pulsed all around his cock, reaching a euphoria your mind couldn’t comprehend. You both stayed locked together, savouring the comedown, but not really ready to let go as of yet.

And when Seonghwa finally pulled out, he couldn’t help the growl that emitted from the back of his throat as his cum began spilling out of you in copious amounts. Even he was surprised at how much cum was spilling out of your used, puffy cunt. His cock was numb. 

He smirked, it was all worth it.

“So, this is it, I suppose,” you breathed out, laying down in bed tiredly, carefully lifting the blankets to cover yourself. Not that you needed to keep decency. “I hope you know that I do care for you, but I also want you to know that we both need time away to heal from each other.”

You looked at him, searching his face for any sign of manipulation or desperation, but all you saw was raw, unguarded emotion. The kind you hadn’t seen from him in months. He sighed, turning to his side and facing you. “Can I ask you something?” Seonghwa muttered.

You nodded your head, awaiting his question. “Have you ever wondered what we could have been if I was just Park Seonghwa? Not the mafia lord, not the criminal, not the murderer. Just Seonghwa.”

What he was asking of you hit you harder than you thought. It made sense that he’d ask, it was the main reason you left, after all. “Every single day,” you admitted. “I would imagine we’d be married by now, maybe we’d have had our first child, too.”

Seonghwa let out a laugh that sounded more self-deprecating than anything. It was soft, but full of pain - the pain of recognizing that the what-ifs would remain just that. “When you walked out on me,” he exhaled slowly. “I could’ve stopped you, I could’ve tried harder, maybe made more false promises. Believe it or not, I did give you space.”

“You did,” you stated, rather than asked, your voice cracking. You weren’t ready to talk about these, but this might be the last time you’d ever see Seonghwa.

“I did,” he confirmed. “Would you have come back to me if I didn’t chase you around?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. You let the question linger in the air, because this was something you’d never asked yourself before. “I don’t know,” you answered. “And we’ll both never know. We can’t change what happened, and we can’t rewrite the past.”

Seonghwa met your gaze again, and this time, there was no anger and no regret, just the aching kind of understanding as his stare was fixed towards you. There was something in the intensity of his stare that made you catch your breath. He didn’t blink, nor did he look away. He just stared at you.

“In a perfect world, you’d want me, need me, as much I do,” he whispered, jutting his hand out to caress your cheek. “I knew you’d never want this, but I also know because you’d have come running back to me anyway because you love me. You’d have surrendered to me and if you did, I wouldn’t chase you like a fool. I would be letting you go.”

“I’m tired of thinking, Seonghwa. I really am. There’s not much I can think of but the reality where we’re in right now,” you said.

“And I really wish that you didn’t think. I wish that you knew for certain. But unfortunately, this world is not perfect. Tell me what you want, Y/N. Right here, right now.”

You opened your mouth, but the words didn’t come right away. The way his eyes reflected all the hope, albeit only a little, crushed you. “I want to be free,” you finally said, the words strange in your mouth. “We both need to stop living in a lie, Seonghwa. I’m not the same, and neither are you.”

It hurt for you to say these things out loud, but it needed to be done. He didn’t say anything for a while, and you could tell he was hurting, as well. This man was once your world, but not anymore. You can’t carry him and the weight of his pain on your shoulders anymore. “Will you set me free? Can you let me go once and for all?”

It takes Seonghwa several seconds to fully understand your request, but when he finally does, a nauseating sensation overwhelms him, a sickness settling in his stomach, twisting around his insides. He always believed there was nothing he wouldn’t do for you, that’s how much he loved you, yet you just managed to find something. “One more question,” he insisted softly.

“What?”

“I know you still love me. Might be more than I love you, might be less. Will you ever stop loving me?”

The question was simple, but the way it knocked all the air out of your lungs made you think otherwise. You wanted to lie, wanted to look Seonghwa in the eye and tell him the opposite of what you truly felt for him. In fact, it would be very easy to lie to his face because this was your freedom.

Seonghwa’s gaze was steady, like he already knew the answer, but needed to hear it from you. He held his breath, still waiting for you to say something, but you were too frozen to do so.

You avoided eye contact. “Does it matter?”

“Yes,” he answered a bit too quickly for your liking.

“No, I don’t think I will,” you admitted, finally at peace with the truth, because deep down, you knew that this was the last time you’d ever say it out loud. Even though you still loved Seonghwa dearly, you had to let go for good.

For the first time, the truth didn’t hurt you. 

Something resolute passes through his eyes before he finally breaks eye contact with you, repositioning himself on the bed to lay down on his back to stare at the ceiling. “I’m moving to New York next week. Permanently. We all are,” he said. “Operations there are far more beneficial for me since the crime rate will help a lot.”

As much as that statement felt like a punch to the gut for you, a small part of your brain was telling you that this was a good thing because the finality of you and Seonghwa not seeing each other again was coming into place. 

This was why you couldn’t be with Seonghwa no matter how much you loved each other. His ties to the mafia and illicit dealings was the least of your concern - it was the danger that will forever lurk with him. You were never ready for the emotional and psychological toll it will inflict you. You didn’t want Seonghwa to come home with a bullet between his eyes or have to visit him in jail. Never mind the constant target for retaliation should something go wrong with an enemy group.

“I see,” you replied, not knowing what else to say.

“Let’s have coffee one last time before I leave,” he pleaded. “Would you grant me that right even though you owe me nothing but ignorance?”

It was innocent enough, but it wasn’t that simple. You wanted to establish that line between the two of you as early as now, yet there was that longing that always reared its ugly head whenever you tried to push it down.

Why was it that when you were this close to pulling away, Seonghwa makes your heart flutter again? What is it about him that kept pulling you back?

The walk to the cafe was nerve-wracking for you, to say the least. The last time you were here, you didn’t know where you stood with Seonghwa. It hasn’t even been four months since then and yet, it felt like it was a lifetime ago.

You hesitated, your foot rooted to the ground directly outside the entrance. The closer you got to going in, the wider the hole in your gut got. You figured it was just the nerves, you were finally saying goodbye to your tormentor - as fucked as that sounded - after all the days you were trapped in confusion and pain.

You took a deep breath, choosing to leave your nerves behind and making your choice, something you haven’t made for yourself in a while.

You weren’t ready, not in the slightest, but there he was. Seonghwa sat in the same corner where you were the last time, and for once, he wasn’t purposefully late, or rather, he chose not to humiliate you this time and made you wait to no end. 

You couldn’t help but stare at him. He was staring out to the world in deep thought, his hands shoved deep in his  pockets. He wasn’t even doing anything, yet his quiet elegance still commanded respect. Seonghwa leaned casually against his chair, his dark, tailored coat hugging his body just right and his hair neatly combed up - far from the hot mess of a man who was on top of you the other week.

Your heart thudded in your chest. He looked like he was leaving for good.

And then, he was suddenly looking at you. “Hey,” he whispered, almost unsure. It was a type of voice you haven’t heard from him in so long. The last time you heard it was when he was asking you to marry him one cool, summer night a year and a half back.

“Hey,” you smiled tightly, putting your lips in a thin line as you tentatively approached the table. Truth be told, you wanted to walk away. Something was gnawing in your chest. But the part that loved him so, the part that wanted to let go, didn’t.

“I didn’t think you’d actually come,” Seonghwa gestured to your seat, even going as far as pulling your chair for you and pushing it back for you to sit on like a gentleman. He had a serene smile on his face when he went back to his. “But, I’m glad you’re here.”

He, once again, gestures his slender hands, but this time, at the table in front of you. He already took the liberty to order some food. It was one of the rarer things that you didn’t take offense to when it came to him; as warped as his mind was, he did cater to your needs very well, and that included the type of food you liked to eat and how you liked your coffee.

“Thank you,” you murmured, taking a small sip of your vanilla iced coffee, pleased to find that Seonghwa had already requested extra syrup. It was extra sweet this time, though, but you weren’t complaining. “When are you leaving?”

His sharp eyes calculated your every move, lingering on your lips a little too long before his own lips twitched ever so slightly. “In two hours,” he replied. “Most of our stuff is already in transit. I just have to be physically there. I really just wanted us to end on a decent note.”

You blinked, not totally processing his words at first. It hit you like stone when it did. You smiled back, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “It can’t get more decent than this,” you murmured. It was true, this was the first time that the strain between the two of you wasn’t crackling in the air.

You took another sip of your coffee, just so you weren’t sitting so awkwardly and so stiffly. The aftereffects of the months of unresolved tension were making you dizzy, an almost surreal sensation clouding your vision. Huh, you thought, you underestimated how stressed you actually were.

“You okay?” Seonghwa asked, brows furrowed together, his lips strung in a deep frown. There was an imperceptible shift in his expression, but the haze was too much for you to calculate what it really meant.

“Yeah,” you said,  taking a deep breath and hoping that the dizziness would pass. “I’m just a little tired.”

You booked a little vacation on the seaside for tomorrow, something you didn’t tell Seonghwa. You had no need to. You were looking forward to that as you were seated, thanking your lucky stars that you actually booked it at the last minute. You needed to unwind after all of this.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You’re pale, love,” Seonghwa raised his hand to touch you, something you rejected with a wave of your hand, and something he surprisingly respected.

He sounded a little more insistent now, but he still held that calmness he was known for in the criminal world, but in the end, all he could do was sigh in resignation. “If you insist,” he said, even though he looked like he wanted to say more.

The air felt cold, heavier, and now thicker with all the unspoken things between the two of you that would remain just that - unspoken. Seonghwa resembled a man who had carried the weight of regret for far too long, but even he knew that it was too late.

“I won’t keep you too long,” he said, his words slow as if he was dragging them out. They were raw, nonetheless. “I just wanted to say goodbye properly. The right way.”

He paused to smile thinly. “I just…had to see you before we went. I’m not going to ask for your forgiveness, Y/N, and I suppose that’s the only real thing I will always be sorry for because I can’t control the way my heart yearned for you, no matter how wrong it got.”

“It’s okay,” you almost scoffed. “I don’t know if I can forgive you, anyway.”

“Touché,” he chuckled.

You swallowed hard, a little disappointed, but to be honest, you were fine with that. You can respect honesty and self-awareness. “But, you think this would be enough, Seonghwa? I don’t mean that in a bad way.”

The room began to tilt as you swayed only a bit, nothing too noticeable, but it was enough nausea to concern you. His lips curled as he stared at you, but the hesitation in which he ran his hand through his hair in frustration distracted you.

“I don’t know, little dove, I don’t expect it to be enough. I guess I just needed you to know that I never meant to hurt you like I did, and maybe that’s not enough, but it’s all I have left,” he stared at you. “ I wish things had been different. I really did. But now, I have to go.” 

You set the coffee down, your hands clammy and your mouth went dry, the dizziness getting too detrimental for you to concentrate. Seonghwa’s eyes narrowed as he watched you carefully. Too carefully.

“Good luck, Seonghwa,” you said, quiet and sincere. You got up and stepped back from the table, from him. You had to go, you were starting to feel really unwell. “I’m sorry I can’t support you with the path you’re taking. I wish you happiness you couldn’t have with me, I really do.” 

“Sweetheart, wait…”

He stood up as well, his eyes searching yours like he was waiting for something more, but there was something else underneath it, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Before he could say something, you turned around towards the door and began to briskly walk away.

Walking away from Seonghwa felt wrong, but what was worse was the growing unease you felt - the same one you did before you even entered the cafe. Your legs were unsteady, you couldn’t even take a step away from the entrance. Black spots began to dance from your vision, it was getting more difficult to stay upright.

You gave in, your body feeling lighter as you felt yourself begin to tumble down the floor, but before you could, steady hands guided you upwards until your head pressed onto a firm chest. You didn’t have to look up to know who it was. 

“S-Seonghwa,” you slurred, leaning further into him against your will just so you couldn’t fall. “W-What’s going on…”

You felt him dig his fingers firmly on your shoulders, not enough to hurt, but enough for him to hold you to your place. He pushes you gently against the wall, tilting your lolling head to his face. 

Your blood ran cold. The look in his face told you everything you needed to know. His thumb forcibly opened your lips and the realization hit you so hard it left you reeling - the coffee. You weren’t supposed to feel like this, it wasn’t the anxiety. He smirked, almost smug.

“You were always so wary of me,” he chuckled darkly, leaning in to give you a small peck on the side of your lips before licking the small trail of saliva that pooled outside of your mouth. “I’m surprised it took you this long, I thought you’d see it coming, at least.”

“You…spiked m-my,” you managed to choke out, your breath coming in short gasps.

He didn’t seem alarmed. In fact, there was a calmness to him, as though he had expected this reaction, as though this was all part of his plan. You tried to push him away even though you could barely stand. “Seonghwa, I-I don’t f-feel well,” you admitted.

His smirk fell, genuine concern bleeding onto it as he cursed under his breath. “I’m sorry, love, you were probably just sensitive to it,” he frowned. You hated that you knew what he meant. “Let’s get you to the car—”

“N-No, let go,” your body swayed, until your legs had finally given out on you, your eyes fluttering close.

“Hey, hey, stay with me,” his voice was sharp, laced with panic. You felt yourself being lifted bridal-style. You could hear him calling your name over and over. “Come on, baby, don’t give out on me now,” he urged, the desperation in his voice betraying his calm facade.

“Please, I can’t do this alone,” he continued, his voice quieter now, almost fragile. “This is the only way. I’ll take care of you, yeah? I want to do right by you. I need you to believe me…”

He was scared. He actually hadn’t meant to go this far. 

Everything went black. The last thing you remembered was the sudden pressure of his desperate hands gripping you as if he was afraid that if he let you go that you'd suddenly disappear. His eyes shone with plea, full of panic, as his lips trembled with unspoken words.

When you came to, a dull headache throbbed in the back of your eyes. A sense of disorientation weighed heavily in your chest. The first thing you noticed was that you were sitting upright, your head leaning against a hard, bony surface. A shoulder.

You groaned, trying to remember how you got here, and everything came to you all at once; walking somewhere, the coffee, the nausea, Seonghwa—

Seonghwa.

You groaned, immediately sitting straight and trying to rub your eyes and your head to remove the bleary sleepiness remaining in you, but that wasn’t what caught you off-guard. In fact, fainting in Seonghwa’s arms seemed to be the least of your problems for today.

You froze, your heart leaping to your throat when you saw the cold metal of the handcuff around your wrist. Your hand instinctively tried to pull it away, even going as far as to prying it away with your other hand, but all that did was hurt you, your skin automatically reddening at the friction all the pulling was causing you.

Things just got worse from here then on. You figured that you’d try to pull the source of where your handcuffs were connected to, but to your horror, you realized that the other end was connected to Seonghwa’s own wrist, effectively tying you two together.

He stared at you panicking, his face drawn with exhaustion, but he was watching you closely as everything started to dawn on you. Something cloudy seizes his chest as you look up at him, tears reddening your eyes. His gaze softens, but relief shines through it, nonetheless.

“You’re awake,” he tenderly notes, like he was afraid that you’d get startled and lash out. He leans forward, his hand gingerly holding onto your face to wipe your unfallen tears with his thumb. “Are you okay? Is there anything that hurts? Listen, I know this looks bad, and I get it, but please, give me the chance to explain everything.”

You were stunned speechless, not being able to render opening your mouth to even refute his excuses. Everything was overwhelming, and truth be told, your head still wasn’t fully there. You couldn’t even lean away from Seonghwa’s touch even though you wanted nothing but to spit on his face.

It was one thing to be infuriated with Seonghwa, but more so, you were mad at yourself. How could you be so naïve? How could you be so blatantly stupid as to even meet up with him in the first place and let your guard down? 

Your breathing became ragged despite Seonghwa’s gentle attempts to calm you down. You had basically signed your life to him the moment you agreed to meet up with him in the cafe, because this was his plan all along, and you went along with it like a puppet in his sick version of a show.

Trusting Seonghwa was the equivalent of jumping off of a cliff willingly. You had a first-hand taste of how manipulative, how insane, he actually was, and you still went. You couldn’t even afford to feel bad for yourself since you knew that the fault wasn’t fully his own.

You pulled on your wrist, even though it was pointless, but his hand reached across the small space, gently touching your arm. “I never meant for things to go this far,” he explained, his voice strained. “But I need you to understand—”

“Understand what, Seonghwa? You lied to me,” you gritted your teeth, your heart thudding painfully against your chest as you tried to keep more of your tears at bay. “You lied to me, you sick son of a bitch! You said you were going to let me go! I thought the mafia had honour—”

“I know, dove, I know, but honour be damned if I can’t be with you,” he exasperatedly explained, but you weren’t having it.

“What the hell does that even mean? You kidnapped me! I’ve lost count, Seonghwa,” you seethed, pulling on the handcuffs again, but to no avail. That was when you looked around and realized you didn’t know where you were. “Where even are we?”

Seonghwa’s eyes softened and he leaned back in his seat, letting out a slow breath as he tried to gather his thoughts, the handcuffs connected to him slightly pulling on your wrists. “I’m sorry. I don’t expect you to forgive me right away, and I’m not trying to make excuses. But I couldn’t just let you go. I couldn’t let you walk away and forget everything we had. I’m sorry, Y/N. I really am.”

“Seonghwa,” you trailed off, not liking where this was going, your lips quivering as you spoke. “You said you were going to let me go.”

“I know what I said,” he said. His voice dropped lower, a touch of vulnerability seeping in. “I can’t let you throw it all away, love. The other week, you said you still loved me, and that you were never going to stop loving me. Tell me, how am I supposed to just leave and forget all about that?”

He sighed, long and heavy, looking you straight in the eye. “How am I supposed to leave my heart, knowing that it still beats for the both of us?”

Your mind raced, thoughts tangled in a whirlwind. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. You’d made your choice. You’d walked away from, finally accepted that you just weren’t meant to be, and that you needed to let go to move on.

He shifted, his gaze never leaving yours, and for the first time, you saw a glimmer of something in him—hope.

“We can start over, leave everything once and for all,” he said, his voice almost pleading. “No more games. No more lies. We could just be together with a new life.”

You stopped breathing for a second. “W-What do you mean?”

Seonghwa paused, looking genuinely confused for a second. He was taken aback, it hit him that you actually didn’t know where you were. The silence was what prompted you to actually look at your surroundings. You blinked, finally realizing the real reason why you were sitting down when you woke up.

There is a smooth, unnatural hum of an engine beneath you, vibration so low that you wouldn’t even have noticed it.The plush leather seats you were on and in front of you, the overhead area where carry-on luggages usually went to if they were too big to put on the floor, and the stale smell of uncirculated air around the small space.

You were on a plane. Specifically, Seonghwa’s private jet.

“S-Seonghwa,” you yelped, true fear and panic settling in your chest at the prospect of  being trapped here with him.

“You were asleep for half the flight. We’ll be landing in New York in six more hours,” he said quietly. 

You repeatedly shook your head in denial, hoping to wake up from this nightmare. Seonghwa just watched you, his expression a mixture of hurt and concern. “I know you’re scared,” he whispered. “I know I hurt you, but I promise I’ll never hurt you again. “

You looked at him, his eyes full of conviction, full of hope. He was sincere. But that only made it harder.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you whispered, your voice breaking as you pulled away slightly, the weight of the handcuff pulling you back.

His face shifted, pain flashing across his features, but he didn’t let go. “Please,” he said, his voice trembling. “Don’t make me lose you again.”

Your hands tugged at the cuffs again, the metal biting into your wrist, but all that did was make him wrap his big hands around yours. “I’m not asking for a second chance,” he said quietly, his voice hoarse. “I’m asking for a real chance. A chance to prove that we can make this work. That we can make us work. I’ll take care of you. I’ll protect you. And we’ll get through this together.”

You didn’t want to break down in front of him. You  didn’t want to show him this vulnerability, this weakness. But you couldn’t stop.

Through your blurry eyes, you saw him with his gaze soft but filled with something else. Pity. It also had helplessness and guilt, as if seeing you break down before him was a painful reminder of how far he had pushed you.

With that, you hunched over your seat and buried your face in your hands as the tears streamed down your face in hot torrents. The sobs came in uncontrollable waves, violent and loud, your chest heaving as if you might suffocate.

You felt Seonghwa’s hand rub your back soothingly, but you didn’t care to push him anymore. It was over. All the fighting you did for your freedom was for absolutely nothing. The weight of that truth pressed down on your chest, suffocating. 

You didn’t even try to stop Seonghwa from pulling you from your chair to make you sit on his lap as he hugged you tight, burying your face on the crook of his shoulder as your tears came hard, relentless, spilling down your cheeks as your chest heaved with sobs you couldn’t contain anymore. Your hands trembled as you clutched at his clothes, trying to steady yourself.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” he said softly as he hushed you with comfort that you didn’t want. “I’ll take care of you. We’ll start over, fall in love with each other all over again. You won’t be a part of the organization if you don’t want it, just please, stay with me.”

Your hysterical cries didn’t stop and all Seonghwa did was comfort you with words - words that he actually meant - but what you didn’t see was the pride and satisfaction written on his face as he stared at your crying form. In his own quiet way, he savored every single moment of it.

And he smiled because he knew - and you knew - that you had nowhere else to go. He won.

You belonged to him now.

𝙽𝚎𝚝s - @keopihaus @dove-net @othersideoutlawsnetwork @hiraya-m @illusionnet @pirateeznet

Dividers by: @cafekitsune and @bernardsbendystraws

[stollengoods]

Broken Promises

REQ. Thagyu Angst & Smut

Thanos x Nam-gyu x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Physical and emotional abuse, Cursing, Homophobic slurs, Threesome, & Smut.

Summary: You’re two best friends are always there to comfort you when your current boyfriend says something insulting and/or hurtful to you. One day your boyfriend gets a bit physical with you and when you tell Nam-gyu and Thanos this, they tell you he doesn’t deserve you and proposes for you to join their relationship to become a throuple.

————

You sat on the couch with your boyfriend, John. His arm laid over the back of the couch as his legs were propped up on the coffee table in front of you guys. You had convinced him to watch the movie ‘White Chicks’ with you.

It was one of your favorites and he’s never seen it so you were excited, especially since he didn’t seem to be in one of his moods today. You guys laughed here and there, until you made a comment that changed the rest of your evening.

“And to think, if that dog wouldn’t have slipped out the window none of this would’ve happened.” You giggled, looking over at your boyfriend.

His eyebrows scrunched in confusion as he looked over at you, he didn’t say anything so you continued to explain yourself.

“Like at the beginning the dog going out the window of the car is what caused the car crash and made the two women get “scars” on their faces so they couldn’t-“

He cut you off, the crease in his eyebrows furrowing, “What are you even saying ?”

You broke eye contact with him, starring at your hands.

He grunted, “See this is why I don’t want to introduce you to my friends. You say shit thinking you sound so clever and witty but you just sound stupid.”

You felt the pit in your stomach sink as your heart deflated at his words. Your eyes prickled with tears as you focused your attention back to the movie. You tried to focus on the plot as your favorite scene was about to come up, were the main characters were about to breakdance against the two mean girls but all you could think about was the words your boyfriend had just spoken to you.

Your boyfriend could sense your sudden change in mood and tried to ignore it at first until he put his arm around you and felt your body stiffen instead of leaning into his side.

He sighed in annoyance, “Are you seriously mad about what I said earlier ?”

You didn’t look at him, “No. I’m just feeling tired.” You tried playing it off like you weren’t hurt at all by his words because you knew he didn’t actually care and would most likely ridicule you more so you just tried to defuse the situation.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw him nod his head and then his face crept closer as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. You flinched away as you felt his lips graze your skin and looked at him in a peculiar way.

Instantly you regretted your unconscious reaction, when he pursed his lips and looked up at the ceiling in irritation. You really wanted this night to just be over with and go as smoothly as possible without you guys having another big argument but you couldn’t make yourself cozy up to your boyfriend especially when he made you feel so small around him.

“You can’t take any fucking criticism…”

You swallowed the lump that was forming in your throat, because you knew were this was headed and you couldn’t take anymore verbal cruelty from him.

You stood up making your way around the couch to grab your keys from the rack next to the front door but your boyfriend was faster than you and beat you too it. He snatched them off the hook and you squeezed your eyes shut both in anger and to keep yourself from crying on the spot.

“John.” You said firmly, holding your palm out, “Give me my keys.”

You didn’t want to look into his eyes, “Where do you think you’re going ?” He stated with a tone of cockiness.

“John.” You said, raising your voice a bit.

He laughed in amusement as he walked over into the kitchen area. Your hands balled into fists as you followed him into the kitchen, when he turned around you finally got the courage to look into his eyes.

“John.” You seethed through clenched teeth, “Give me my fucking keys. Now.”

He smirked, his eyes full of enjoyment as he jangled them above your head. “What ? These ?”

You looked up at the keys as he continued, “They’re right here, just grab them.”

Your rage overpowered your feelings of sadness as you snatched his arm yanking it down.

He hissed at the feeling of your nails sinking into his skin, “Aish you fucking-“ He used his free arm along with his body strength to throw you off of him and to the side.

You let out a yelp of pain as the island countertop rammed into your lower back and you instantly fell to the floor. Your boyfriend got down to your level, showing you his arm. “Look what you did to me you little bitch.” He pointed to the indents your nails dug into him along with a few tiny scratch marks resulting from him throwing you off of him.

His hand trembled with rage and you could see for a second in his fury filled eyes he wanted to really hit you but decided against it as he stood up.

“Go see your faggot ass friends.” He spat, “See if I fucking care.” He threw the keys at you and you groaned as you felt the impact of it hit your stomach.

He walked away from you still talking, “… Just be sure to tell them the whole damn story this time !” He shouted before slamming the bedroom door behind him.

————

On the drive over to your friend’s place you allowed yourself to finally cry. Surprisingly, the blurriness from your tears didn’t make it hard for you to see as you were sort of used to this routine by now. Your boyfriend has a short temper and usually says something insulting making you leave and go see your friends.

Your friends, Nam-gyu and Thanos, have met your boyfriend once and never again after that. It was when you guys first started dating and your boyfriend insisted that he meet your friends. Especially since they were both guys, you tried to tell him that they were dating each other but he wasn’t having it.

Mostly due to the fact that you told him you had originally met Thanos on a dating app. He asked how that was possible if he was gay and you told him that they were both bisexual. That’s when he insisted on meeting your two guy friends.

After the hang out with your friends and boyfriend, your boyfriend confessed to you that he felt very uncomfortable around them. He accused them of flirting with him and trying to hit on him in front of you.

You were baffled because you were there and didn’t get any hints or signs of either one of them hitting on him but your boyfriend insisted that they were and that you were too naïve to see it.

You never told Nam-gyu or Thanos about what your boyfriend had said but they didn’t have positive things to say about your boyfriend either. Nam-gyu told you that the vibe he got from your boyfriend gave him a similar one to a boyfriend he dated back in college.

The boyfriend turned out to be a raging dick but Nam-gyu said that it could be nothing and he could just be projecting. Fast forward three months and seven visits to their house later, you come to realize maybe he was onto something.

You wiped your tears as you made your way up the steps to their home, using the spare key they gave you to let yourself in. You heard the tv on in the living room as you turned the corner to greet them.

Thanos was butt ass naked on the couch with his head thrown back as Nam-gyu was kneeled between his legs sucking him off.

“I’m so sorry.” You panicked, almost running into the wall beside you, covering your face with your hands.

Thanos head snapped forward as he blinked a couple of times before he pulled Nam-gyu off of him by his hair.

Nam-gyu looked up at him and saw that Thanos was pale in the face. He followed his gaze and nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw you trying to hide your face with your arms.

“Oh my fuck- y/n-“ Nam-gyu said startled from your presence as he began collecting his clothes and pulling them on along with his boyfriend Thanos.

“I’m so so sorry.” You apologized, your voice strained and cracking from all the crying you did on the way there.

Nam-gyu pulled your arms away from your face and you peeled your eyes open to see him and Thanos now fully clothed.

“You’re crying.” Nam-gyu stated, as his hands cupped the sides of your face and used his thumbs to wipe the tears from under your eyes.

You sniffled and Nam-gyu instantly gave you a hug as you wrapped your arms around him, crying into the crook of his neck. You felt Thanos chest against your back as he hugged you from behind, his arms wrapping around you and Nam-gyu.

“Shhh…” Nam-gyu whispered, “It’s okay. You’re with us, everything’s going to be okay.”

Once you lifted your head from his shoulder, they both released you, giving you some space. “I should go, I don’t mean to interrupt-“

You turned to leave and Thanos blocked you, “Y/n don’t be silly, we’re your friends, we want to be there for you.”

“I know.” You chocked out, “… but there’s a time and a place. You guys have your own lives to worry about I shouldn’t-“

Nam-gyu put a hand on your shoulder, “Life isn’t always perfect, theres not always going to be the perfect time or place to do something and that is okay. Talk to us y/n, let us help you.”

“Yeah.” Thanos chimed in and you looked up at him, “If you leave now, we’re only going to worry more.”

You wiped your nose with the cuff of your sleeve while nodding your head, “Okay.” You replied meekly.

Nam-gyu ushered you over to the couch, him sitting to your right as Thanos sat on your left.

“Now.” Nam-gyu said, using one of his hands to rub your back, “Tell us what happened.”

You told them what had started the fight between you two and how you tried to grab your keys to leave but your boyfriend snatched them before you could. Nam-gyu and Thanos gave a each other a look when you paused at the part were your boyfriend was basically dangling your keys in front of you.

You didn’t continue for a few seconds and Nam-gyu decided to speak up. “Y/n… ?”

Your head snapped over to meet his eyes, “Right. Sorry.” You blew out a breathe before continuing, “I then grabbed his arm to get my key but then he suddenly threw me against the countertop. I felt a sharp pain in my back resulting in my knees buckling and having me fall to the floor.”

“Wait.” Thanos deep voice sounded upset, “He hit you ?!”

“No.” You licked your dry lips, “H-he threw me in a result to me grabbing his arm.”

“Y/n, hit you or threw you, who gives a fuck, he still put his fucking hand on you !” Thanos was in disbelief.

You turned to him, your eyes trying to blink back tears, “Technically I put my hands on him first and if you saw his arm I did leave a few scratches- he was bleeding-“

Thanos ran a hand down his face before burying his head in his hands.

You felt a hand on your shoulder and turned to face Nam-gyu. “Y/n what Thanos is trying to say is, there is never, in no circumstance, a reason a man should ever lay hands on a woman. Ever.”

“But what about self defense ?”

“That’s not fucking self defense.” You heard Thanos say, “That’s him being a pussy.”

Thanos lifted the back of your shirt to reveal a dark purple bruise starting to form on your lower back. He lightly grazed it with his finger.

“What are you doing ?” You asked trying to see what he was looking at.

“Y/n… this looks awful…”

Nam-gyu got up from his seat and kneeled down beside him, “Oh my.”

You saw Nam-gyu’s expression fill with concern and instantly felt a sense of shame for trying to defend your boyfriend’s actions.

Nam-gyu resumed his position next to you on the couch again and held your hands in his. “If a man ever touches you it should be with such care and grace y/n.” He whispered as his thumbs ran over the top of your hands.

You were so overwhelmed with emotions at the moment. Shame, guilt, anger, sadness, but when Nam-gyu or Thanos would touch you; you felt love and tenderness. You felt that they truly meant what they said and so when you followed that feeling by attaching your lips to Nam-gyu’s you hadn’t realized what you’d done until you felt Nam-gyu instantly pull away.

Your hands slipped out of his hands to cover your mouth, “Oh- oh my- I- that was…”

You looked over to see Thanos and he looked just as shocked as Nam-gyu had.

“I-I should go.” You quickly got up but Thanos pulled you back down by your arm.

“Thanos I’m so sorry- I shouldn’t have done that-“

Thanos cut you off by leaning in and kissing you, your eyes shot open in surprise until they slowly blinked closed.

He pulled away and you looked at him through half lidded eyes, your head a bit dazed.

“Y/n, can I ask you something ?” Thanos said, his hands now holding yours.

“Anything.” You breathed.

You saw a small smile form on his face, “Have you ever thought about polyamory ?”

You finally snapped out of it, looking down at his hands that caressed yours, “In what sense ? Like a threesome ?”

You heard Nam-gyu burst out laughing behind you as Thanos’s smile widened trying to keep it together, “Well… not exactly. I mean like being in an actual relationship with more than one person.”

“Are you saying I should suggest this to John ?” You tilted your head in confusion, “I think that would just make things worse, he already thinks I’m cheating on him. If I suggest we be open to dating other people while dating each other he’d be furious.”

“No, that’s not-“ Thanos sighed, “I’ll just say it.”

He interlocked one of your hands as he began, “We wanted to wait until you would break up with that asshole to propose this, because at the end of the day we want you to make your own decisions.”

You squinted your eyes, “Okay…”

“Y/n. You are truly one of our best friends and we hate to see you stuck in a relationship like this with someone who doesn’t know your worth.”

Nam-gyu hugged you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

Thanos gave him a wink before continuing, “And we were wondering if you would be apart of our relationship ?”

You chuckled in disbelief, “Wait. Huh ?”

“You heard him.” Nam-gyu said, as you felt his fingers began to tickle your stomach.

You instantly snapped your hands away from Thanos as you laughed hysterically. You tried to pry his hands away but he was relentless, you pushed back against him trapping his back against the couch as you flipped over on top of him.

“You fucking asshole !” You panted, giggling while slapping his chest repeatedly with the cuff of your sleeve.

He chuckled, trying to block your attacks with his hands. “Okay, I’m sorry ! I’m sorry !”

You eased up on him, smirking with victory.

“So what you do say ?” Nam-gyu asked with half a smile on his face.

You paused for a second trying to remember what you guys were talking about, “You guys want me to join your relationship, in like what way ?”

“Like this.” Nam-gyu grabbed your wrist and pulled you closer on top of him as he held your face only a few centimeters from his. You could feel his breathe on your lips and you swallowed.

“So…” he licked his lips and you felt it graze your bottom lip slightly, “What do you say ?”

For the second time that night you kissed Nam-gyu and this time he didn’t pull away. His hands adjusted you better on top of him as you pulled away for a split second to slip off your shirt.

You felt a pair of hands grip the hem of your sweats and shimmy them down your thighs until they settled around your knees. The cold air hit your ass and clit making you shiver. Thanos ran a finger over your slit and sighed. He then inserted one finger, quickly adding another not long after and you began pushing back against him lightly.

You placed a hand on Nam-guy’s chest to hold yourself up and he gripped your wrist dragging your hand to be placed over his throat.

“Please ?” Nam-gyu begged, his eyes pleading with you.

You lightly gripped his throat, surprised by how much you enjoyed doing it to a man, usually you were the one on the receiving end.

Nam-gyu’s eyes rolled back as they fluttered closed and you felt yourself aroused at the sight. You forgot about the man behind you until you felt his fingers pull out of you. You whimpered, arching your back whining for more.

You felt his bare chest against your back as he whispered into your ear, “Do you want me Y/n ?”

You nodded your head and he slapped your bum, his voice a bit husky now. “Speak.”

“Y-yes, I want you, please Thanos…” The grip on Nam-guy’s neck loosened as your head fell into the crook of his neck.

Thanos got up from the couch and removed the rest of his clothing. He climbed back over you, gripping his dick and teasing your clit with it before pushing himself in. Your chest was now fully against Nam-gyu’s as you arched your back even more for Thanos.

Thanos started off slowly, his hands on either side of your hips, helping you stay in place. Your chin is propped up on Nam-gyu’s chest and would rub against his skin as Thanos sped up his thrusts. Nam-gyu used his finger to move the hair away from your face and your glazed over eyes watched as he did so.

Your hand fumbled around until you felt Nam-gyu’s hard on through his pants, stroking it. His hips bucked up at the friction releasing a whimper. Thanos stilled his movements in you, reaching over and seized your wrist in each on of his hands. He continued pounding into you and your lower body trembled against him.

“Did I say you can touch him ?” He snapped, his thrusts railing into you much harder.

You could barely make out what he was saying over your pornographic moans. Nam-gyu’s hard on was now poking through his pants at your abdomen. He then used his fingers to tuck your hair behind your ears.

Thanos just smirked as he released your wrists and they sagged to your sides. He stilled in you as he reached over collecting your hair into one of his hands. He pulled your head to the side and kissed your lips. You tried your best to kiss him back but mostly let out moans as your ass desperately pushed against his pelvis.

He moved back, his other arm around your stomach as he moved you with him. Thanos and you were a perfect 90 degree angle to Nam-gyu who laid beneath you guys. He continued thrusting up into you and Nam-gyu watched; looking from Thanos dick sliding in and out of you to your tits bouncing above him.

Nam-gyu slipped his hands beneath his pants, past his underwear, using his pre-cum for lube as he began stroking himself.

Thanos’s grip on your hair only tightened as his thrusts became sloppier and quicker. You were drooling at this point as he repeatedly hit your g-spot perfectly at this angle. Your salvia trailed down your chest, to your abdomen, to your pussy adding just a pinch more lubercation, not that you needed any.

The pace of Nam-gyu’s strokes quickened as his moans made harmony with your own. His legs tensed beneath you as you saw a dark spot form on the front of his pants. His chest rising and falling as he tried to regulate his breathing.

Your release followed soon after as you felt Thanos’s warm cum enter you. Thanos released his hands from you and you slumped forward, him following suit as you guys piled up on Nam-gyu. He didn’t seem to mind as one hand played with your hair and the other played with Thanos’s.

“As soon as I break up with John.” You breathed, “I would happily be in a relationship with you guys.

Nam-gyu gave you the biggest smile as you felt Thanos’ head nod against your back before placing a quick kiss on it.

[incineratedtoothpickgamer]

Sometomes things like that discourage me but then I remind myself:

I sirvived. My childhood was not good or pleasant. It was not kind. It was not gentle. It was war. War on my emotions and my mind and my very life. And I survived. And surviving took everything. It meant sacrificing my dreams. It meant forgetting much of who I was. It meant taking the first opportunity to get away from my abusive father that I was given, and never looking back. So yes, I may be "behind". But I was supposes to dit at 14, I think, by my own hand pushed there by an abusive father and abusive teachers and an abusive church and abusive peers. But the family dog stood between me and the door and I lived. And I survived. And now I am relearning who I am. While my peers raise their children, I reconnect with my inner child. I learn what she likes, what she dreams of. And as I learn, I begin to do more than just survive.

So sure. Your peers may be doctors or lawyers or be raising families. But you have done amazing too. Even if that amazing does not look like much from your perspective, you got here didn't you? So many don't. So you keep going forward, you keep matching those socks and washing your dishes. That's just as much a victory as what anyone else has done because it spits in the faces of those whk said you would never get here. It proves them wrong. It screams I FUCKING LIVED, BITCHES!

don't ever look up what your childhood friends are up to now!!!!!!!!!! like girl you're a nuclear safety engineer. i put on matching socks today. we played tag a thousand years ago.

[chuellas]

Initiation | I is for Intimacy

⤷ Ft. Nakahara Chuuya

V. A. L. E. N. T. I. N. E.

Warnings | Fem!Reader, N.SFW, 18+ only, use of the names “Doll” and “Baby”, physical and emotional intimacy, oral (Reader rec), fingering, unprotected sex, WC: 2.2k

A/N | This one is a lot tamer than the rest and once again I got wayyyyy too carried away but can you blame me? My baby deserves the world 😔

His hands tremble slightly as you both reach your apartment building’s entrance. The two of you have been dating for about 3 months now and Chuuya has held off on being physically intimate with you up until now. But he could tell your patience has been waning and tonight was your tipping point. You’ve been hinting to him all night that you want him to follow you up to your apartment. The extra touches that linger just a little longer than usual, the longing gaze at any part of him you find attractive, which apparently is every inch of him. 

You fiddle with your fingers and keys, watching them before steeling yourself and inviting him. “Y’know, it’s still pretty early…Why don’t you come up? We could have a cup of tea or a glass of wine and watch a movie?”

Your eyes are filled with so much hope, how is Chuuya supposed to say no to that?

He doesn’t of course, as a matter of fact he’s quick to accept your offer and follows you anxiously to your apartment. The Port Mafia executive couldn’t figure out why he was so nervous. He’s slept with plenty of people before this. He’d even goes as far as to say he’s skilled in this subject, never having left a partner dissatisfied. 

So why are you different? 

Realistically Chuuya knows why but he doesn’t want to admit it to himself because if he does that then it means all of this is actually real. It would mean he cares for you far beyond anyone he’s cared for previously. So he’s avoided the subject with you altogether, letting himself stew in denial.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t also incredibly excited. It’s depraved, the amount of times Chuuya has fucked his hand to the thought of you, playing the little voice memos you like to send him every once in a while when you’re at work and typing takes too long. He always comes at the sound of your fluttery giggle, the sound casting a spell over his body every time without fail.

He wonders briefly, what the real thing will do to him when he’s nestled inside of you. 

The ginger can feel himself getting worked up just at the thought of it. He needs to calm himself down. The two of you just got to your apartment. You let him into your home and he’s immediately greeted by a small cat that can’t be more than 6 months old. He’s never been too keen on cat’s but the little ball of fur takes to him immediately and you let out an incredulous laugh.

“She usually hides when I have company, you must be really good with animals.” You crouch down and hold your finger out for the kitten to sniff, just as expected she does so and rubs herself against your hand, clearly recognizing you as her owner. “This is Rika. She may not look it, but this little girl is feisty. She started out as a foster but I fell in love with her and couldn’t fathom the thought of life without her anymore. Sorry, I should have asked if you were allergic before bringing you up…”

Chuuya smiles fondly at you and the small creature, crouching down and mimicking your actions to gain the kitten's trust. “Nah, don’t worry, Doll. I’m not allergic, just- Never been the biggest fan of these guys. She’s cute though, just like her owner.”

You let out a groan and fall onto your butt, knees still bent, to make yourself comfortable on the floor. Rika starts at the movement but once she realizes that it was just you, she continues to headbutt Chuuya and even starts to purr. His attention is still on you despite the little furballs attempts to get him to pet her. 

“That was so cheesy.” You’re covering your face with your hands and peek through them to look at Rika, then back up at the ginger. “...but, I suppose, she’s quite fond of you…just like her owner.”

Chuuya lets out a chuckle of his own because, yeah, that definitely sounded awfully cheesy now that he heard you say it. Yet, it still calmed his previous nerves. The Port Mafia executive stands up and offers his hands for help. You take them with an appreciative smile and he hoists you up. He’s aware that he used far too much force than he needed to but it’s entirely on purpose. You stumble into him and he’s ready to steady you, grip firmly set on your hips to hold you against him.

His lids droop down to look at you through his lashes and the air in your apartment thickens. Your lips part, Chuuya thinks you were going to say something, but he doesn’t give you time as he dips his head down and steals a kiss from you. Then another.

And another.

He continues to kiss you until you both find yourselves stumbling almost blindly into your room. You toe the door shut and start ridding Chuuya of his clothes with trembling hands. You’re nervous too, somehow that makes the ginger just a little more confident and he aids you in taking off his jacket and lifting his shirt over his head. He watches your reaction closely, the way your chest quickens with your breath, the way your pupils dilate in excitement, and most of all the way your face flushes in the prettiest way.

Chuuya is in trouble. Normally his interactions like this are only filled with desire and pleasure. Something only transactional or to itch a certain scratch. That’s it. But this is clearly different. 

The ability user wants to take his time with you, wants you to feel good. He wants to touch and kiss every surface of your skin. Chuuya wants to mold your insides to only take him, to remember the shape of only his cock.

You're the most dangerous person Chuuya has ever encountered and you don’t even know it.

Chuuya makes good on his desires, slowly and carefully peeling your clothes away, making sure to kiss every bit of new skin being exposed. You aren’t as patient but you have no control over what he does right now. The ginger had a plan and you weren’t going to deter him from it. 

When the executive gets you down to your underwear, he makes work of your bra first, expertly unclasping your bra with the snap of his fingers. You let out a pained whine, clearly enjoying just how easy it was for him to take off the usually tricky garment. He wastes no time in cupping your breasts in his now ungloved hands and kneading gently at the plush skin. His fingers run over your nipple and you let out a broken gasp. 

A grin stretches at his lips, he can’t help it, pleased with the reactions he’s drawing out of you when he hasn’t even come close to touching you how he’d like to. 

The ginger drags his hands down your abdomen at an agonizingly slow pace and you squirm impatiently in his hold. “Chuuya…Please, just- oh my god- just fuck me already.”

Your breath catches in your throat when Chuuya flips you around and has your back crashing into his chest and he dips his head to leave a trail of kisses down your neck.

“Gotta be patient f’me, Doll. I gotta make sure you’re ready to take me. Can’t have you uncomfortable, now, can we?” Your head falls onto his shoulder as you let out another whine.

You’re walked to the edge of your bed before you’re being flipped back around and pushed onto it, your legs hanging off the end. Chuuya kneels and pushes your legs together so he can guide them to one side of his head to slip your underwear off with ease. The ginger pries your legs apart once more and settles your legs on each of his shoulders. 

When you’re finally fully exposed, slick cunt practically drooling for Chuuya, he lets out a groan. He has a physical reaction to the sight of you, his cock jumping in his very tight pants. If you would let him, he thinks he would be content with drowning in your pretty glistening cunt. 

You reach for the ginger’s hair and let out another whine. “Chuuya…”

“Fuck, Baby. You been hiding this pretty little thing from me this entire time? A damn shame I’ve let this go to waste till now.” He doesn’t let you respond, diving right in and helping himself to your taste.

With expert precision Chuuya finds your clit with one swipe of his tongue up your folds. He’s quick to attach himself to the sensitive bud and starts sucking on you and then releasing, creating a delicious rhythm with his mouth. You grip at his hair with trembling fingers. It’s cute, really, how worked up you’re getting. The executive has a sneaking feeling you’ve never had someone who actually knows what they’re doing eat you out like this before. 

As if you could read his mind you gasp out, “How- shit- how are you s-so good at that? It feels s’good…”

The ginger knows better than to deem that with an actual response, so instead he brings a hand up to your entrance and coats his middle finger in your slick before inserting it and immediately pumping it in and out of you. It happens fast. You pant out his name and twist your body as you try to almost crawl away from the pleasure building up in your stomach. Chuuya doesn’t let you, of course. He makes sure to bring you flying off the edge. You cum without warning and the sounds of Chuuya drinking you up bounces off the walls. 

You twitch from the oversensitivity and subconsciously push at Chuuya's head. He gets the hint and pulls away. His face is a mess, lips, cheeks and chin glistening with your juices. What's worse is he licks it all off like a parched man, not satiated until he’s licked all of it off.  

Chuuya finally pulls down his pants and climbs over you, dragging you up all the way onto the bed. He takes another moment to admire your lucid state. Body sheen with a small layer of sweat, hair splayed around you in a halo, chest flushed and heaving from your pants. You’re more beautiful than he could ever have tried to imagine. Whatever Chuuya had previously pictured, was put to shame tenfold with you here finally bare right in front of him. 

He gingerly strokes some hair stuck to your face out of the way and lets his finger linger, traveling down the outline of your face. “Think you have one more in you, Doll?”

Chuuya doesn’t think he’s ever had to ask that question before. His usual partners are always selfish, having no problem asking for what they want. You on the other hand? You were far too soft, too kind to ever ask for more when this is your first time getting into bed with him. 

Your eyes close momentarily and he watches your intently. Your eyelashes flutter as you lean into his hand that’s now cupping your face tenderly. When you open your eyes to look up at him through your lashes Chuuya swear he almost cums right then and there. How the hell is he supposed to survive the night with you when you look so stunning underneath him like this?

“Yeah. I want you, Chuuya.” You’re killing him—you really will be the death of him he swears, no dramatics, it’s simply factual. 

He lets out a strained chuckle. “Okay, you got me, all of me.”

Chuuya leans closer into you and rests his forehead on yours before guiding his tip to your entrance. He swipes himself through your folds a few times, making sure he’s wet enough to slip into you easily before finally sinking into you. Your eyes screw shut and your arms fly to his back, desperately looking for something to slutch onto as he stretches you so deliciously. Your mouth drops open but no noise falls out. 

Instead of letting himself get overwhelmed by how velvety and warm and inviting your walls are, Chuuya distracts himself by crashing his lips to your. You finally let out small whines and whimpers and while he’s running his tongue across your lips, asking for another entrance, you impatiently roll your hips. He lets out a surprised grunt but gets the hint and starts a slow but pointed pace. 

Chuuya is used to having sex, he’s slept with countless people thanks to the nature of his job. It’s been seen as a skill for so long that he forgot that it could feel like this. This was something more than just a physical connection, it’s also emotional. 

Chuuya thought he knew everything there was to know about sex, but he has a lot to learn about intimacy, and he doesn’t think he’d want to learn it from anyone else other than you.

[bloodstainedsapphic]

this is so silly for valentine’s day, i'm sorry from this prompt list

"who the hell told you that you could come in here?" your loving girlfriend ellie asked while standing rigidly just inside the doorway to her room, her tone accusatory but not exactly pissed.

"you did, dummy," you corrected her, a tight, all-too-pleased smirk adorning your lips.

but ellie wasn't staring at you—her fern-colored eyes were squinted, stuck on the massive stuffed bear now occupying her full-sized bed. you had managed to sneak it in right under her nose—with some help from jesse and the like, not that she needed to know.

the impossibly fluffy behemoth of plush was twice ellie's size, chestnut-colored with a cartoonishly welcoming smile. the bear felt extremely out of place in her rugged, homey, nerdy space, like it had crash-landed onto her faded blue bedsheets.

ellie was planted still as a stock character—eyeing the stuffie with a wide spectrum of emotions, from surprise to suspicion, to flickers of amusement she wasn't ready to let on yet.

"this—this is fucking ridiculous," ellie muttered, finally marching over to her bed, which was about 80% stuffed bear. she grabbed one of its oversized, floppy brown arms and tugged on it loosely, like she still wasn't convinced it was real.

"where the hell do i put this? who even made this? why is it so big?" ellie rapidly fired questions you couldn't answer while trying not to bellow with laughter because this was exactly how you had hoped she'd react.

"could you have found a bigger teddy bear?!" ellie demanded, finally turning her full astonishment on you.

"i just saw it— and— and i had to get it for you—" you tried to explain while stifled by giggles, backing away once ellie started closing the space between you, a playful kind of predatory.

eventually, she had you backed against the old couch, crawling over you, caging you in with her hands on either side of you, pressing soft, relentlessly teasing pecks all over your face.

"well, since my bed is completely taken up now by your 'little gift'..." she murmured lowly, lips ghosting your cheek, "... i guess i'll have to thank you here." pic creds @/danics1ki on pinterest

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Now that all the main cast's unique magic has been shown, can you make a ranking on your favorite unique magic from most to least favorite? Would be favorite unique magic from each dorm but felt some feels unfair especially Ignihyde when Ortho is confirm unable to have his own. You can include the other characters like Chenya, Rollo, Skully, and Fellow.

Originally I was gonna ask about your top favorite dreams, overblot boys' dream outfit, and chapter 7 SSRs (excluding the main Diasomonia uniforms), but there is chance there will be more dreams in upcoming chapter since some people theorize that we might see both Silver's and Malleus's now that Ace's UM is shown. Even a possibility of Silver having an SSR card. So I will be holding this question once chapter 7 is over.

[For a complete compilation of known unique magic (including name, incantation, first use, effects, and limitations), check out this post!]

To briefly explain what is mentioned in the second ask and the second paragraph of first ask, some fans theorize that with Ace’s new UM (which seemingly allows him to borrow, copy, or swap UM with a target?), he could use Malleus’s magic against him or on other characters too. This could potentially allow us to see his dream and/or Silver’s. As far as I could tell it though, there doesn’t seem to be a purpose for doing this provided by theorists yet.

Aaand with that aside, here’s my personal ranking of the UMs, with explanations for each below. It’s not numerical, but rather tiers. This is primarily based on how practical or fun I think the UMs would be to my daily life, NOT based on power level or some other metric.

“Useful overall”

Snake Whisper/Snake Charmer — At the risk of sounding slightly unhinged, this would make life in general easier. Shockingly few drawbacks or limitations too. (Big surprise, the person who says they are similar to Jamil puts Jamil’s UM as at the top…)

I See You/Arrow Afar — As someone that easily gets lost while traveling and easily loses things, this UM sounds like a godsend. Just tag whatever you want to locate and you’re good to go!

Far Cry Cradle — The idea of experiencing stories by touching a random object is so fascinating. Endless entertainment but could also help with answering questions. Bonus: reminds me of the Dimensional Scream from the Pokémon Mystery Dungeon Explorers games.

“Fun to experiment with”

Doodle Suit/Paint the Roses — The simple act of being able to change the smell, taste, or texture of something would make dietary restrictions so much easier to deal with. Other applications would be nice for comfort too, like adjusting the perception of brightness or loudness just for yourself in a group setting like a movie or concert. (There’s some ominous fan works and theories about Trey being able to use his UM to overwrite others’ emotions or thoughts too, but I’m only sticking to what he is shown to be capable of in canon.)

Split Card — I’d wanna see how many clones can be made at once and what each is physically and mentally capable of. (We already know the magical power of the original and the clones goes down, so what about other parameters?) Useful for multitasking.

Joker Snatch — It's basically the same has having multiple UMs. Would fuck around and find out what this sucker is capable of. :9

Fairest One of All — Such a flexible and customizable UM, honestly. You can basically set whatever conditions you like, just be careful about the wording because the curses get pretty locked in.

Meet in a Dream — The idea of hopping around dreams and seeing what weird shit goes on in people's heads sounds so fun! Then you can embarrass them about it in the waking world :>

Not All My Head —Ultimate stealth... You can bypass into some of the most secure places in the world just for the lols 🤣 or, y'know... sneak into the kitchen to steal some snacks or something.

“Messing with the forces of nature because fuck you, that’s why”

King’s Roar — Could be used for a fight, but also to clear an area. What's that? Destruction of nature/property? Potential for murder? IT'S OKAY, JUST BREATHE IN THE SAND PARTICLES FLUTTERING IN THE BREEZE AND DON'T CHOKE :))

Oasis Maker — Need clean water to drink? BOOM. Want to water your garden? BOOM. Making a random swimming pool? BOOM. Maximum output for minimum effort.

Fae (of) Maleficence — You become a literal god of time and space. Scary amount of potential for control.

“The trail mix where I pick out the bits I like and leave the gross stuff in there”

Laugh with Me — Not really useful unless for small pranks or you + the target are in a convenient location already (since you'd have to take steps forward to get the target to do the same).

Sleep Kiss/Crimson Slumber — Can be protective (but can't seem to be cast on the self, only on others). Also useful to put people to sleep. Would like to use to send my pet or loud neighbors to sleep early instead of staying up late and bothering me :v

Living Bolt — Very good for an extra boost of speed and/or power if in a rush or in a desperate situation. Unfortunately comes with electrical side effects so that's... not optimal.

Scary Night — Basically Off with your Head but also limits your movement, so I consider it an upgrade with applications besides just combat. Wonder what happens if you cook with those pumpkin’d people or smash the pumpkin on the ground… Is that instadeath? Gruesome to think about, but unsure of since we see so little of the UM in action.

“Requires rizz”

It’s a Deal and Life is Fun — Same reasoning for both; takes a certain amount of charisma to pull these UMs off and if you lack that then this magic sucks. Would be useful if you did have these characters’ sway though.

“Fistfighting central”

Off with your Head — Could shut down a hostile party’s magic, but if you’re not as trigger happy as Riddle is then how often would you realistically use this? And if the target has no magic then this basically does nothing.

Bet the Limit/Double Down �� Assuming you’re not already dead from the blows you’ve already eaten and/or you can aim properly and get that shot in before you wipe??? Okay, sure 😂

Bind the Heart — Only deflects magical blows. Physical hits will still pass. Would get my ass beat anyway.

Dark Fire — Primarily useful only for combat, which most people don’t get up to on a regular basis. Must be a true hater or be surrounded by true haters to get the most power out of this. What happens if everyone holds hands and sings a song at you? Do you just pathetically whimper and die out in a pile of ashes/j

“Not a furry, don’t @ me”

Unleash (the) Beast — The idea of a big furry... creature... charging at me makes me want to run and hide 🤢 Could have its use for strength and speed, but… I still don’t want a massive dog around.

“This could have been an email”

Shock the Heart — Nothing a reasonable amount of blackmail research cannot do. Has so many limitations (eye contact, only one use per person, target may resist/refuse anyway, etc.) you may as well need a PhD in order to manufacture plans to effectively use this UM.

“So niche it has like no practical application”

Gate to (the) Underworld — Y-You just… open and close a door to a pit of Phantoms. Discounting opening the pit to retrieve Phantoms to test or experiment on, why would you not just keep this closed all the time and just never use this UM 💀

[ledbet]

The amazing thing is as soon as you start feeding info to a child this way, it expands their own understanding (logically) of themselves and their behavior and they are able to verbalize better back at you. Meaning, in high emotion moments they can better talk through with you and you can better regulate yourself as a result and help guide them to better choices without losing your fucking shit.

my sons were wrestling last week, for example, and the younger one got bounced off of a beanbag and knocked his head on the floor. He was fine (more than, he wanted to go right back to fighting) but I called time out and rather sternly told my older son that if they choose to play that way against my wishes then he was responsible for preventing that sort of thing, whether it was fair or not. He didn’t like getting scolded on this and started to talk back with some choice words. I asked him what he thought he was doing, talking to me like that. And he paused, and thought about it, and said “when you get really firm with me like that, it makes me not want to be around you.” And, yeah, tough to hear, but dang what an amazing thing to be able to verbalize. This kid is 6, mind you. And it let me better understand what he was feeling, and we were able to talk about it. That he might feel that way, and that’s ok, but it’s still more important to keep them both safe than to let them have fun and like me all the time. That his feelings are ok and so are mine but we still can’t be mean or nasty to each other just because of them. That I have to be firm when they don’t listen and are doing things that might be dangerous. That they’re allowed to take breaks from me and each other. That if I’ve been firm and he doesn’t want to be around me…he doesn’t have to be. He can go to his room and cool down and come back when he’s ready to talk or to play a different way. That’s ok. I do the same thing, sometimes, too.

it really changes the whole family dynamic, and your kids’ dynamic with themselves. Communication. Who would’ve thunk it?

I am exceptionally lucky in that my parents never hit me, grounded me, confiscated my things, banned me from my hobbies or threatened any of these actions to make me behave as a kid. as an adult it has made me realise how very very long a road most people have to traverse before they can take a statement like 'no rule that must be enforced by threat is legitimate' seriously.

[captain-huggy-bear]

"I've got you..."

Pairing: x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Blood, nudity (in a helping someone get cleaned up way/non-sexual)

Summary: You wake up at 2am to find you've started your period. Clayton takes care of you.

Notes: Periods suck so this is designed to make everyone feel better about a shitty situation.

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

Maybe it's the stomach cramps that wake you, the feeling like you’re being stabbed in the stomach repeatedly, or maybe it’s the uncomfortable feeling of wetness beneath you, like you’d spilled a glass of water to cover yourself. You can’t be certain, what you can be certain of is that it’s 2am and you’re suddenly awake, groggy and confused, and that you know that something’s gone terribly wrong with your nightly plan.

Clayton is fast asleep besides you, curled up with his pillow, nose twitching in his sleep, so you’re careful, trying to be quiet when you peel the covers back to check the damage, already knowing from the wet sensation between your legs and beneath you what you’re going to find. 

It’s like a crime scene on his white mattress cover, a pool of red blood beneath you where you’ve started your period unexpectedly early. It’s everywhere, across the mattress cover, the underside of the duvet, across your thighs and the crotch of your sleep shorts. To add to it you feel like you’re being kicked repeatedly in the stomach and the lower back. It’s…it’s embarrassing, you’re staying over Clayton’s for the first time in weeks because of his schedule. This wasn’t supposed to happen…

“Mmm…” You glance over at Clay as he shifts, his blue eyes blinking open as he wakes up from your movements. You start to panic when he nearly rolls over into the mess you’ve made, relaxing when instead he pushes himself up to a seated position, chain swinging gently as he rolls his neck and shoulders to shake out the aches and pains of sleeping awkwardly. 

 “You okay, baby?” Clay’s voice is rough with sleep, deep and gravelly in a way that would scratch a part of your brain if you weren’t so emotional and fixated on the shitty situation you’ve found yourself in. Fuck, this is the worst, you’ve never done this before…never bled all over your boyfriend’s mattress and you’re sure he’ll be upset, who wouldn’t be?

“No…” You try to hold it in, really you do, but waking up at your boyfriend’s house with stomach cramps, covered in blood, having ruined his sheets is just too much for you. You can’t help that you start crying even as you’re sniffling trying to hold it in because this is embarrassing enough as it is without sobbing over it as well.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” It’s dark and Clay can’t really see what’s got you so worked up, but he can tell you’re upset and there’s nothing he hates more than that. You both should be sleeping, curled up together, happy. You should be nuzzling into him while he spoons you, not crying in his bed at 2am when you have work in the morning. 

“I…I bled all over your sheets, ‘m sorry!” It’s the early hour wake up that has him confused because what do you mean you’ve bled over his sheets? Are you hurt? Did you cut yourself somehow?  The confusion mixed with the dark has him patting the bedside table in an attempt to find the lamp there. 

Clayton manages to find the switch, flicking it on, the warm light from the lamp filling the space and illuminating the scene which has you apologising and crying in his bed at such a ridiculously early hour when you should be sleeping. You’ve created a big red patch on the bed that he knows is going to stain, blood pooling underneath you where the mattress dips, not that he really cares. You’re covered in blood as you practically curl in on yourself in discomfort, thighs ruddy, sleep shorts stained, smears of crimson over your legs where you must have moved in your sleep.

The sight of you like that, covered in blood, embarrassed and crying, has him hushing you, soothing little shushing sounds leaving him as he goes to pull you into his arms even as you try to protest, to keep him at a distance, worried you’ll cover him in blood. Like he wouldn’t happily bathe in the stuff if it meant he could comfort you, he’s spent so much time playing hockey that the idea of a little blood really doesn’t phase him.

“It’s okay, hey…I don’t care, baby, it happens.” You’re not stronger than Clay’s desire to have you in his lap, no matter how hard you try he’s got you up from the wet patch and sat on his lap. The blood doesn’t bother him, the fact his sweats are probably ruined doesn’t matter because now he can wrap his arms around you fully, a hand cupping the back of your head as he tries to reassure you, to comfort you.

“B-but…your sheets, your sweatpants...” You’re blubbering into him as he gently guides your face to his shoulder, your tears are wet against his skin, droplets trailing down his chest, as he tries to soothe you. His free hand runs over your back in circles, rubbing circles more firmly when he reaches your lower back at the feeling of all the tense muscle there 

“I can get new ones, okay?” You nod into his shoulder, tears starting to slow at his reassurance but he knows you have to feel horrible, that there’s no way you’re comfortable right now covered in sticky blood and probably dealing with cramps and pains. 

“Let’s get you into the shower, okay? Then I'll change the sheets and get you some tylenol, baby.”

“Okay…” 

Clay helps you out of the bed, hands on your hips as you waddle in front of him towards the bathroom, an awkward sort of walk as you try to stop blood dripping onto his floor as if he doesn’t have the money to pay for someone to clean it if you do stain it. You wait awkwardly, feet curling on the cold tile of the bathroom floor, holding yourself like you don’t want to exist in your own body, like you’re trying to shrink yourself as he starts the shower, waiting for it to warm up for you. 

“Arms up, sweet girl.” He’s gentle as he pulls your shirt (well, one of his you’ve stolen) over your head, before kneeling down to help you peel off your shorts and underwear. You shiver from the cold, but it’s not long before he’s gently guiding you into the shower to clean up, the warm water soothing some of your pains and chasing away the chill.Clayton leaves you there as he takes your clothes to be washed, bundling the pile of stained, bloody clothes in his arms. 

It doesn’t bother him, stripping the bedding off, each layer being pulled free. It doesn’t bother him, putting all the blood stained laundry into the wash, coated in stain remover. It doesn’t take him long to do and even making the bed, one of his least favourite chores, means very little when he knows he’s helping you. He works off auto pilot, a desire to make everything as easy for you as possible when aunt flo decided to make her chaotic and unruly appearance. 

You’re just standing under the spray, eyes closed, barely moving except for the rise and fall of your chest, when he comes back into the bathroom with clean clothes for you. Clayton places them on the sink countertop before reaching under the sink for a pad from the stock he’d put there the moment he’d started dating you. He places it atop your clothes before slipping out of his underwear and stepping under the spray of the shower with you to wash off the smudges of blood that had gotten onto him from where he’d pulled you into his lap earlier.

He’s careful as he reaches for the shower gel, the one you bought because it was better for your skin and smelled like vanilla, lathering it in his hands before rubbing it across your shoulders and down your arms. You hum under his attention, head leaning back to rest against his shoulder. There is nothing sexual about it, the way he touches you is intimate but solely focused on making you feel clean, better. Any trace of blood on your thighs is gently washed away, every smudge of red on your legs cleaned off by his hands as he kneels on the floor of the shower beside you. Extra care is taken where you’re most sensitive and uncomfortable, fingers rubbing circles into your tummy and back each time you groan out in pain. 

Clayton’s chain glints in the bright lights of the bathroom when he reaches for the shampoo, lathering it in your hair, fingers massaging your scalp and neck as he works it into your strands. He takes a sort of pride in the way your muscles turn to jello under his attention, how all that tension, that stress disappears a little even if he catches you wincing every now and again, hands rubbing at your stomach where he knows you’re likely cramping. He likes taking care of you. It’s nice to be able to do simple things, like rinse shampoo from your hair and massage conditioner into the ends. He takes pride in being useful to you, even when he knows you don’t expect him to do this for you. 

“Thank you…” Your voice is almost too quiet compared to the sound of the shower, water hitting the ground in sheets, but he hears it anyway. Always hyper aware of you in any situation. Clay pulls you back against him, until your back is flush with his chest, his hands coming to rest on your tummy, working circles into the soft skin there in an attempt to relieve some of your cramps. He presses a kiss to your shoulder, then another, and another. 

You really don’t have to thank him for taking care of you, if anything he should be thanking you for letting him. He likes doing it, likes fussing over you and seeing to all your needs, it makes him feel useful especially when he has to spend days at a time away on roadies and gets home late from games often. Hell, his schedule had been so shit lately that this had been the first opportunity in two weeks for you to sleep over. 

“You don’t need to thank me, baby” He mumbles it into your shoulder because the idea of pulling away from you right now is unthinkable, not when you’re leaning so heavily into him, sighing happily at the way his warm hands soothe the ache in your belly. 

When the two of you eventually get out of the shower, Clayton doesn’t let you lift a finger. He’s drying you down with a towel, helping you step into your new clothes, pad in place so you don’t have another ‘incident’ and helping dry your hair enough that it won’t upset you while you sleep. He takes more care drying and dressing you than he does himself, just throwing a pair of boxers on, skin still a little damp so the fabric sticks.

“Get in bed, baby, I'll go get you some tylenol, okay?” He’s pulling back the freshly made bed covers for you, letting you crawl into your spot before tucking you in. The covers are pulled up to your chin, making sure you’re not going to get cold.

“Can you make me a hot water bottle please?” You ask shyly, not wanting to be a bother as you look up at him, at the chain resting around his neck, the damp strands of hair curling around his ears, the soft smile he offers you as he looks after you. 

“‘Course, you want anything else, baby?” 

You shake your head in the negative as you burrow down into the fresh sheets. Clayton leans forward slowly, careful not to swing forward too quickly lest you take his cross to the face, to press a kiss to your forehead, lingering slightly before leaving for the kitchen. Hating the fact he has to leave you, but knowing you need some pain relief.

He tries to do it all as quickly as possible. Water boiled in the kettle, cooled slightly before being poured into your ghost shaped hot water bottle that you got last Halloween, tylenol grabbed, glass of water in hand. There’s no delaying, no distractions. It’s near 3am and all he wants is to make sure you take some painkillers, get a hot water bottle where you need it and wrap you up in his arms. All he wants is to cuddle up with you and fall back asleep, for you to fall back asleep.

Maybe he’s a sap. Maybe he’s whipped. Or maybe Clayton Keller just really likes being needed, being quietly helpful to you in the worst moments, the moments when he wants you to seek him out rather than shying away. He knows there are guys who’d freak out at waking up at 2am to blood over their bedsheets, he’s played against a few, the sort of guys that don’t want to even hear the word ‘period’. He doesn’t get it. He’ll never get it. His only thought is to make you comfortable, to ease some of your embarrassment and discomfort. 

“Here, baby, take these.” He helps you sit up briefly to gulp down the tylenol before handing you your hot water bottle, watching you melt when it rests against your stomach, cramps easing under the warmth. 

“Can you hold me?” You bite your lip after asking, like you’re worried he might say no. An impossibility really. Clayton’s never really been able to deny you anything. Especially not cuddles and affection. 

“You want cuddles, baby?”

“Yes, please.” You blink up at him from where he’s standing, tired and soft, slow, like even blinking is an effort right now.

“Okay, just let me turn all the lights off first.” He tries to make it quick, rushing around the house until all the lights are off again, the only one remaining being the lamp in the bedroom.

Clayton eases himself into his side of the bed, turning the bedside lamp off, before curling in behind you. He tugs you until you’re flush with his chest, butt fitting against his hips, legs tangled together. Clay’s arms wrap around you, one replacing your own to hold the hot water bottle to the spot where you’d been cradling it against your stomach. You sigh out happily when he presses his face into the crook of your neck, careful, soft little kisses pressed there like he can’t help himself. 

“Go to sleep, baby…I've got you.” and you don’t doubt it, Clay might be the first man in your life that you believe when he says that.

[queenjulia11]

The scene with Dorian’s mom. God. I love the way Matt plays parents of all kinds, but this was one of his best if you ask me. We learn so much about her just in her introduction.

This woman is a public-facing figure who very recently lost a child, and you can see it on her face right away when Matt plays her. That neutral expression of having to do a mundane task like making tea, because for some fucking reason the world keeps turning even when you’re in the worst pain imaginable. And then she sees her other son who ran away and has been missing for almost a year, and she is immediately overcome with relief and joy just to see him safe again. She doesn’t blame him or tell him she’s been worried sick. She’s just so happy to see him again.

And of course she says no when Dorian asks her if she hates him. Because he’s her baby, there’s no universe where she could ever hate him. But I really appreciate how she doesn’t go on a whole thing like “oh my gosh, sweetheart, of course not, it wasn’t your fault, etc.” Because even though all of that is definitely true, she knows it’s not what Dorian needs to hear right now. He won’t believe it.

She just says “no.” She just takes the weight off of his shoulders and gives him space to break in a safe, comfortable place.

And Dorian; sweet, noble, anxiety-ridden Dorian, who has been putting others before himself and pushing his emotions and grief all the way down because of more important work for so long, finally has the time to truly mourn his brother.

And his mother just holds him. No one else is here but the two of them. He gets to be her baby again for just a moment. She is so proud, and so sorry. She wishes she could’ve done more for him. But she is doing the one thing she knows she can do to help better than anyone else: and that is hold her son until he falls asleep in her arms, just like he did when he was small.

There’s nothing like a good, long cry when you’ve been needing one for a long time. It opens you up to so much. I really appreciate how Robbie shows that: how Dorian is crying through Orym’s whole speech to him, even if it’s a happy moment. It really shows how safe he feels with Orym now that he can just let it go. I love how Dorian says “yes” before Orym has even asked the question because he doesn’t feel guilty for wanting things anymore. I love how he asks if they can take it slow because it still hurts too much to be happy. I love how he kisses Orym, and how he lets Orym kiss him.

This character has grown so dramatically over the years, and it’s been a spectacular thing to witness. I’m so happy Dorian feels comfortable enough to live as himself now with the people he loves, and how he continues to exist in this beautiful world despite all the harshness he’s faced within it. I’m so happy he gets to heal, as messy and slow as it will inevitably be.

Fair winds, Dorian Storm. 💙

[simp-for-love]

Tainted touch

Mattheo Riddle x femReader

It was supposed to be simple — just physical, no feelings, no attachments. That was the deal Mattheo made with you, and for a while, he let himself believe it was enough. But then he felt it — something hard, unwanted, and unwilling. Emotions were never meant for someone like him, so he did the only thing he knew how to do: he ended it. And now he's facing the consequences.

Warnings: angst, swearing, self-loathing, emotional repression, casual sex, friends-with-benefits dynamic, unspoken feelings, implied smut, unhealthy coping mechanisms, Mattheo being a self-destructive mess as usual. That's all I think.

It's my first time writing something, so please be kind. I'd really appreciate some feedback and constructive criticism.

And huge thanks to my babe Soph @ur-local-wizard for proofreading my piece of work and being such a sweet person 🩷

Mattheo felt disgusted with himself.

He felt so, so sick inside — almost on the verge of vomiting. But he already knew it wouldn’t help much. It would bring blissful emptiness, relief for a few minutes, only for him to spiral back into this unstoppable feeling of trembling loathing. And it was all your fault.

Actually, no, he thought bitterly. It was all his fault. As always.

He was the one who approached you first. He couldn’t contain the unquenchable hunger burning inside him — the starvation to be close to you, to experience even a piece of you. Oh, Mattheo knew so fucking well that he would never have you whole. He didn’t deserve it. You were too pure for him. You were kind, caring, bright, empathetic. The exact opposite of him as he thought. He hadn’t even planned to taint your life with his presence in the first place. But, Merlin help him, he tried. He tried so, so hard to keep his distance, to be satisfied with just admiring you from afar.

But just like Icarus, he had to get closer to the sun. Closer to you.

He knew it was dangerous from the start. But he gave in — succumbed to this sweet weakness for a moment.

And now, he was completely blinded by its sunrays.

Utterly pathetic, he thought, thrusting angrily into the hips of some Hufflepuff girl whose name he didn’t even remember. Maybe she had told him. Maybe he had never asked. Either way, it was irrelevant. Her presence was nothing more than a distraction — a futile, humiliating attempt to fill the void you left inside him.

Her moans were too high-pitched, making him furrow his brows. Her hands gripped his shoulders, nails short and dull. Not your long ones, he noticed unwillingly. Her eyes looked up at him, filled with lust, blind admiration, and stupid desire, seeking his gaze.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Mattheo let out a shaky breath and flipped her over roughly. He didn’t want to see her. Didn’t want to feel her hands on him.

Because it all felt like a cruel, sadistic reminder that she wasn’t you.

Mattheo picked up the pace, thrusting in her body ruthlessly, pressing her face into the mattress, not really caring what she might be thinking about that. His grip on the girl’s hips tightened, knuckles going white. She let out a breathy whimper, mistaking his desperation, inner agony for passion, but he barely heard her. His mind was elsewhere — on you. On your lips when you whispered his name, on the way your fingers danced along his skin, setting his whole body on fire, on those sweet little sounds you made just for him, on eyes that looked at him with such tenderness that he almost believed he was worth it.

Fuck.

His rhythm stuttered, a wave of nausea creeping up his throat. He wanted to stop, to push away from this hollow, disgusting act, but he didn’t. Because it was who he was. Because it was the only thing he would ever deserve. Because stopping would mean facing the truth — that this wasn’t working. That no matter how many bodies he used as a shield, he couldn’t escape the ache twisting inside him, the endless void, which was craving only for you.

His fingers dug mercilessly into the girl's skin as the realization crashed over him.

It was never enough. It would never be enough.

Because she wasn’t you. Because no one else ever would be.

A sharp inhale. He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing himself to focus, to block you out, to get these thoughts the fuck out of his head, but it was too late. The damage was done. Your ghost was everywhere — haunting him, taunting him, reminding him of what he almost had, what he lost, what he threw away with his own fucking hands.

A pathetic laugh bubbled up in his throat, bitter and dry. Look at yourself, Riddle. You thought this would help? That you could replace her? That you could fuck the ache away like some desperate, lovesick fool?

The girl beneath him moaned again, dragging her nails along his arm. And that was it. The final thread snapped.

Mattheo ripped himself away, breathing hard. “Get out.”

The words were sharp and venomous, almost a growl. The girl stiffened beneath him, turning to look over her shoulder in surprise and confusion. “W-What?”

He was already reaching for his pants, barely sparing her a glance. “I said get the fuck out.”

She quickly put on her clothes, muttered something under her breath, something about him being an asshole, but he didn’t care. The door clicked shut behind her, leaving him alone in the suffocating silence.

He sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, fingers tangled in his hair. His chest heaved, but it wasn’t from exertion. It was from the weight of his own pathetic idiocy pressing down on him, suffocating him, pushing mercilessly from the inside up to his throat, clawing at his ribs.

He almost had you. And he let you go.

And now, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to forgive himself for it.

[glorifiedagents]

Paid to be Ruined — agatha harkness

"YOU LISTENED." Agatha’s voice was velvet and steel, laced with amusement and unmistakable hunger. Her gaze dragged over you — slow, knowing, lingering on the bare skin of your thighs peeking from beneath your coat. She took a step closer, fingers brushing the belt at your waist, her smirk deepening as she tugged — just enough to loosen it. "Good girl."

SUMMARY: agatha hires you for the night again - and you know for a fact that she's gonna ruin you PAIRING: g!p agatha harkness & escort!fem!reader CAUTION: swallowing cum, creampie, deepthroat, size kink, stomach bulge, spit, dom!sub!dynamics, overstimulation, escort!reader, g!p agatha, degradation and slight aftercare from agatha WORD COUNT: 5.1K AUTHOR'S NOTE: not proof read, let me know if i made mistakes! currently going through my agatha phase - literally need fucking help

You weren’t new to this.

The job, the money, the whole give them what they want, take what you need, and walk away thing. You had it down to a science. You knew how to read people, how to figure out exactly what they were looking for and play the part they wanted. It was easy. Simple. No emotions, no attachments, no mess.

But then there was her.

Agatha Harkness had been different from the start. The first time she hired you, you had expected the usual, maybe a drink, some small talk, a client who wanted to pretend there was more to this than just an exchange. But Agatha? She didn’t do small talk. She didn’t waste time.

She had taken one look at you, studied you with those dark, unreadable eyes, and smirked like she already knew exactly how the night would go. Like she had already decided how far she was going to push you. And the worst part?

She was right.

That night, she had left you wrecked. Not just satisfied — ruined.

You had walked away with sore thighs, a raw throat, and a pay-check big enough to make your head spin. You should have left it at that. Should have chalked it up to just one really good night with a really dangerous woman.

But then she called again. No discussion. No questions. Just a time, a room number, and the unspoken expectation that you would show up.

And against your better judgment, you did.

Only this time, you weren’t just going to show up. This time, you wanted to see just how much further she could break you.

You remembered something she had said the first time around, almost offhand but still deliberate in that way she did everything.

"Red suits you."

So you wore red.

Your best set — delicate lace, thin straps, garters and thigh-high stockings that made you feel like sin itself. And as the elevator carried you up to the top floor, heart pounding, pulse racing, you knew one thing for sure.

You weren’t just getting paid tonight.

You were getting owned.

The black car idled outside the grand hotel, its sleek design gleaming beneath the golden glow of the streetlights. You sat in the back seat, smoothing your hands over your thighs, nerves buzzing beneath your skin. The fabric of your long coat was soft, but it did nothing to still the pounding of your heart.

The driver hadn’t spoken much since picking you up from your apartment — just a clipped greeting and a quiet confirmation of the address before pulling away from the curb. You were grateful. Any attempt at conversation would have been wasted on you. Your mind was too preoccupied, too restless, too consumed by what awaited you on the top floor of this building.

Your breath hitched as you stepped out of the car, heels clicking softly against the pavement. The grand entrance of the hotel loomed ahead, its revolving doors ushering guests in and out with quiet efficiency. The warm air inside wrapped around you as you stepped through, a stark contrast to the crisp night air outside.

The lobby was a sight of wealth — high ceilings, polished marble floors, chandeliers dripping with crystal. The hum of quiet conversation surrounded you, but none of it registered. You walked with purpose, straight to the bank of elevators tucked near the back of the lobby.

Agatha’s message had been simple. A room number. A time. Nothing else.

Your fingers toyed with the belt of your coat as you waited for the elevator, a mix of nerves and anticipation coiling low in your stomach. You had dressed for her. The finest red lace and silk clung to your curves beneath your coat, the bra delicate yet daring, framing your breasts perfectly. The matching panties sat low on your hips, sheer enough to leave little to the imagination. Garters held up sheer thigh-high stockings, adding an extra layer of tease.

She would appreciate the effort. And then she would ruin it.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, and you stepped inside, pressing the button for the top floor. The space was empty save for you, the only sound the soft hum of the elevator rising.

Your pulse quickened. You could already imagine the way she would look at you. The weight of her gaze, dark and knowing, as she took in every inch of you. The way she liked to test your limits, the way she devoured, possessed. She was dangerous in the most intoxicating way, and you had walked straight into her grasp.

Another chime. The doors opened.

The hallway was quiet, lined with plush carpeting that softened the sound of your steps. Each step forward sent another jolt of anticipation through you, every breath felt heavier. The door number burned in your mind.

And then, you were there.

Before you could knock, the door swung open.

Agatha stood in the doorway, bathed in the soft glow of the suite’s lighting. Her dark button-up was partially undone, sleeves rolled up to her forearms, revealing toned, elegant wrists. She looked effortless, but you knew better. Everything about her was intentional.

The moment the door clicked shut behind you, Agatha wasted no time. She had you pinned before you could take another breath, her strong hands pressing you back against the door, her body a solid wall of heat against yours. Her mouth crashed onto yours—hungry, claiming, her teeth scraping against your lower lip before she bit down just hard enough to make you gasp. She swallowed the sound with a satisfied hum, her tongue slipping past your lips as she deepened the kiss, rough yet tantalizingly slow, like she had all the time in the world to ruin you.

Her fingers trailed from your wrists, still trapped against the wood, down the length of your arms, her touch featherlight—teasing. By the time she reached your shoulders, she slid her fingers beneath the delicate straps of your red lace bra, pulling them down achingly slow, her mouth never leaving yours until she finally ripped herself away.

"Look at you," she murmured, stepping back just enough to take in the sight of you, her dark eyes raking over your body like she was devouring you whole. "Dressed up like a good little whore, just for me."

Heat flared through your body at the way she said it, dripping with amusement but edged with something dangerous, something that made your pulse stutter in your throat.

You barely had a second to react before she was on you again—her mouth hot against the curve of your jaw, trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses down your throat. Her hands were everywhere at once—sliding down your arms, gripping your hips, owning every inch of you as she backed you up toward the bed. You whimpered when she took one of your nipples into her mouth, sucking hard, her tongue circling the sensitive peak before her teeth grazed it just enough to make you jerk in her grasp.

"Mm, so fucking sensitive," she mused against your skin before switching to the other, her free hand rolling the abandoned nipple between her fingers. Your hips bucked reflexively against her, needing more, desperate for friction.

And fuck, you felt it. The thick, hard length of her cock pressing against your stomach through her slacks, the outline making your mouth water as you squirmed beneath her.

"Pathetic," Agatha laughed, the sound low and mocking, her fingers trailing down your stomach, stopping just at the waistband of your panties. She could feel how wet they were, her smirk widening as she pressed her fingers against the soaked lace, applying just enough pressure to make you moan. "This soaked already? And I haven't even touched you properly. Such a desperate little thing."

"Agatha, please—"

A sharp slap to your thigh cut you off, the sting making you whimper as your skin burned beneath her palm.

"Did I say you could fucking beg?" she growled, her tone dark, commanding. "You're so needy it’s pathetic. You don’t deserve my cock yet."

You let out a choked sound of frustration, your body aching for more, but she just smirked, dragging her fingers up the inside of your thigh, making you tremble.

Then, without warning, she dropped to her knees.

You gasped at the sudden shift, your breath hitching as she pressed a kiss to your hip, her mouth lingering over the thin straps of your panties. She breathed you in, her nose nudging against the damp lace before she let out a low, satisfied hum.

"Fucking filthy," she murmured, dragging her tongue over the wet fabric, slow and deliberate, tasting you through it. The friction was exquisite—a teasing, maddening pressure that made your thighs shake. She licked a second time, the heat of her mouth soaking through, her fingers digging into your hips as she held you still.

You whimpered, your hands gripping the sheets behind you as your hips jerked up, chasing her mouth. But she pulled away just enough to deny you.

"Patience," she scolded, voice thick with amusement, before reaching up and undoing the garter straps excruciatingly slow, watching your face the entire time.

And then—fuck.

She hooked her fingers into the waistband and pulled your panties down, dragging them down your legs inch by inch, her lips brushing along your thighs as she went. And then, instead of tossing them aside—

She brought them to her mouth.

Your breath caught as she slid the drenched fabric between her teeth, her dark eyes locked onto yours as she pulled them taut, letting them drag over her tongue. She moaned like she was savoring the taste, her smirk never fading as she finally removed them—only to shove them into your mouth.

"Since you can't seem to stop moaning like a desperate slut," she taunted, her fingers trailing down your exposed cunt. "Now you can keep quiet."

You whimpered against the soaked lace in your mouth as she finally pressed two fingers between your folds, spreading you open. She groaned at how wet you were, her thumb finding your clit and rubbing in slow, devastating circles.

"Fuck, look at this mess," she muttered, her fingers teasing your entrance, just barely pushing in before pulling away. "So fucking needy for me. Do you even have a single ounce of dignity left?"

You tried to respond, but your voice was muffled by the panties in your mouth.

Agatha laughed. "That’s what I thought."

And then, without warning, she thrust two fingers inside of you.

Your entire body arched off the bed, a muffled scream escaping past the gag as she filled you all at once, stretching you open with zero hesitation. She set a relentless pace immediately, her fingers driving into you with obscene, wet sounds that only seemed to fuel her amusement.

"Listen to you," she groaned, her free hand palming her cock through her slacks. "Taking my fingers so fucking well. You were made to be used like this."

Her thumb pressed against your clit, circling in time with the thrusts, sending sharp jolts of pleasure racing through your core. The pressure was unbearable, the pleasure so intense that your legs started shaking.

"You're gonna come already, aren’t you?" she mocked, watching you struggle. "Go on. Make a mess."

And then—fuck, fuck, fuck.

She angled her fingers just right, curling them against that perfect spot inside of you while pressing harder against your clit. Your entire body locked up before pleasure exploded through you, a sharp, overwhelming rush that had you squirting all over her fingers, your release dripping down your thighs as you writhed beneath her.

Agatha groaned as she watched you come undone, fucking you through it, her pace unrelenting as she worked you through every wave. "That's it. So fucking messy for me."

When she finally pulled her fingers out, they were dripping. She brought them to her lips, eyes locked onto yours as she sucked them clean, humming at the taste.

Then she stood, undoing her slacks, letting them pool at her feet.

Your breath caught at the sight of her thick, hard cock springing free, the tip glistening. You reached for it immediately, but she caught your wrist, pinning it back against the mattress with a warning glare.

"You don’t get to touch until I say so," she growled, leaning over you, pressing the heavy length against your overstimulated clit, making you whimper. "And you will take every fucking inch."

And fuck, you knew she meant it.

Every single word.

Agatha’s cock drags against your slick folds, teasing, the head catching on your clit with every slow, deliberate stroke. The obscene, wet sounds fill the room, mixing with your breathy whimpers and the low, guttural hum of amusement from her lips. She’s playing with you, watching the way you tremble beneath her, the way your thighs try to clamp together, only to be forced apart by her strong grip.

"Spit." The command is sharp, leaving no room for hesitation.

Your lips part instantly, tongue pushing forward as a warm strand of saliva drips onto her waiting fingers. She smears it over her cock, mixing it with the slick beads of pre-cum already glistening at the tip. A slow, shuddering breath leaves her as she fists herself, pumping with languid strokes, eyes heavy-lidded as she watches you. A few stray drops spill onto your stomach, smearing across your skin, and marking you.

She lines herself up again, pressing the swollen tip against your entrance but not pushing in. Instead, she leans in close, mouth ghosting over yours, her breath hot and teasing.

"You want it?" she murmurs, smirking as she rubs herself against you, teasing, taunting. "Say it. Beg for it."

"Please," you gasp, fingers digging into the sheets. "Please, Agatha, I need—"

The words cut off in a sharp cry as she thrusts into you in one smooth motion, burying herself to the hilt. The stretch is instant, overwhelming — your walls clenching desperately around her thick cock as she fills you completely.

But she doesn’t give you time to adjust.

She sets a ruthless pace from the start, each powerful thrust driving deep, punching the air from your lungs as she claims you. The slap of skin on skin echoes through the room, the mattress creaking beneath the force of her movements. Your back arches, head falling back against the pillows as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through you.

"Feel that?" she growls, grabbing your wrist and guiding your hand down to your stomach. She presses your palm flat against your lower abdomen, right where she’s buried so deep inside you. "Feel me stretching you out? Fucking you open?"

The sensation is dizzying — you can feel the thick, hard outline of her cock through your own skin, feel the way she moves inside you, relentless and unyielding. Your body is burning, electric, the pressure coiling tight in your core with every brutal thrust.

"You’re squeezing me so fucking tight," Agatha groans, her fingers bruising against your hips as she fucks into you harder, deeper. "Like your body's desperate to milk me dry."

The words send a violent shudder through you, the pleasure teetering on the edge of something devastating.

"That’s it," she pants, her grip tightening as she slams into you harder. "Come for me, you filthy little thing — fucking soak me."

It’s too much. The overwhelming fullness, the sharp slap of her hips against yours, the way her cock presses against that perfect spot inside you — it sends you spiralling. Your body seizes, the orgasm ripping through you like a lightning strike, white-hot and all-consuming.

Fuck.

A strangled cry breaks from your lips as the pleasure turns into something explosive — your walls clenching down in rhythmic, desperate spasms, forcing liquid heat to gush from you, soaking Agatha’s cock, your thighs, and the sheets beneath you. The release is violent, messy, your body shuddering uncontrollably as the pleasure crashes over you in waves, each one dragging you under deeper.

Agatha curses under her breath, watching as you fall apart, watching the way you soak her cock, your slick dripping down onto her thighs. Her movements grow erratic, her breath ragged as she slams into you one final time, burying herself to the hilt as her own pleasure overtakes her.

A deep, guttural groan rumbles from her chest as she comes, filling you with heat. You can feel it — the thick warmth spilling deep inside, coating your insides. As if it was seeping into every inch of you. She doesn’t pull out, just grinds against you, making sure every drop stays buried within you.

Your body is still trembling, aftershocks pulsing through your core, your skin flushed and feverish. Agatha finally collapses against you, her cock still inside, pressing a searing kiss to your jaw, her breath still ragged as she murmurs against your ear:

"Mine."

Agatha pulls out slowly, deliberately, watching with dark, predatory eyes as your walls clench around nothing, your body still trembling from the force of your release. A satisfied smirk curls at the corner of her lips as she watches the thick spill of her cum start to leak out of you, glistening as it drips onto your thighs.

"Messy little thing," she muses, voice dripping with amusement and something darker, something possessive. Her fingers trail down your stomach, teasing over the sensitive, overstimulated skin before she presses two fingers against your entrance, spreading you open just enough to watch more of her cum seep out.

"Don’t waste it," she commands, and when you hesitate, she grabs your wrist, guiding your hand down. "Use your fingers. Push it back in."

Your breath stutters, but you do as you're told, your own fingers gathering the warmth of her release, feeling it slick and sticky against your skin before pressing it back inside, your walls fluttering around the intrusion. The act is filthy and it makes you burn with humiliation and arousal all at once.

Agatha hums approvingly, dragging her thumb over your bottom lip, her smirk widening. "That’s a good girl."

But she isn’t done with you.

"On your knees."

Your body obeys before your mind fully catches up, slipping off the bed and sinking onto the floor. The shift makes more of her spend trickle down your thighs, and Agatha notices; her gaze flicking down, her smirk deepening.

"Open your mouth," she orders, tilting your chin up with two fingers.

The second your lips part, she grips the base of her cock and taps the heavy length against your tongue. She’s still hard, impossibly thick, coated in a mix of your slick and her own release. The taste is intoxicating — salty and musky. The scent clings to her skin, warm and heady, something rich and masculine with the faintest hint of sweat.

You could get used to this.

Agatha doesn’t ease you into it. She grips the back of your head and pushes forward, the thick head stretching your lips wide as she sinks deep, pressing against your tongue. The intrusion makes your throat tighten, and she groans at the feeling, her other hand coming to rest heavy on the back of your neck.

"That’s it. Take it," she growls, rolling her hips forward, pushing deeper until your nose nearly brushes the coarse, dark hair at the base of her cock. There’s just enough of it for you to feel against your skin, soft yet undeniably masculine, a reminder of how utterly she’s claiming you.

Your fingers twitch at your sides before you reach up, cupping her balls — heavy, full, sensitive under your touch. You can feel the heat of them against your palm, the weight of them tightening slightly as she thrusts into your mouth.

"Look at you," Agatha sneers, pulling back just enough to let you gasp for air before she thrusts forward again, setting a punishing rhythm. "Nothing but a desperate little cock-sleeve for me, aren’t you? So fucking needy, drooling all over yourself just to have me in your mouth."

Your throat constricts around her, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, saliva pooling and spilling from the corners of your lips. Your body shudders, caught between humiliation and arousal, between submission and the raw pleasure of being used like this.

"Messy, pathetic thing," she continues, her voice sharper now, laced with satisfaction. "You love this, don’t you? Love being on your knees for me, choking on my cock like the filthy little slut you are."

Her words send a fresh pulse of heat between your thighs, and she notices the slight tremor in your body, the way your nails dig into her thighs as if trying to ground yourself.

"You’re getting off on this," she chuckles darkly, shoving deeper, holding you there for a moment as your throat spasms around her. "Of course you are. You’d let me ruin you, wouldn’t you?"

She groans as she pulls back, letting you breathe just for a second before thrusting forward again, deeper, harder, until you’re gasping around her, tears streaking down your cheeks. And still, you don’t pull away. You take it.

Just like she knew you would.

Agatha’s grip tightens at the back of your head, fingers tangled in your hair as she thrusts deeper, groaning low and guttural as she feels herself teetering on the edge. You can feel the way her cock pulses on your tongue, the way her breath stutters, her rhythm faltering just slightly as she chases that final burst of pleasure.

"Fuck—" she growls, her hips snapping forward one last time, holding you down as her release spills down your throat. The taste is thick, warm, — salty and rich, coating your tongue in waves. She doesn’t let you pull away, making sure you take as much as you can, but it’s too much — some of it dribbles from the corners of your lips, spilling down your chin in hot, sticky trails.

She watches with dark, satisfied eyes as you gasp for breath when she finally pulls back, her cock glistening with spit and the remnants of her orgasm.

"Messy little thing," she murmurs again, thumb swiping at the cum dripping from your chin before pressing it against your lips. "Swallow every last drop."

Your throat bobs as you obey, the act making her smirk in satisfaction.

Then, without warning, she grabs you and pulls you up onto shaky legs, her lips crashing onto yours in a bruising kiss. The taste of her own release lingers between you, and she doesn’t shy away from it —if anything, she deepens the kiss, claiming your mouth with a dominance that makes your knees weak.

She moves you easily, pushing you back onto the bed, her body covering yours, heavy with heat and lingering hunger. Her cock, still hard, presses against your stomach, smearing the last of her release against your skin. You’re panting, dazed, body still trembling from the relentless pleasure she’s wrung from you, but when she starts to pull away, you catch her wrist, eyes glassy with need.

"I wanna ride you," you gasp, the words tumbling out breathlessly, your body aching but desperate for more.

Agatha chuckles, low and smug, dragging her fingers down your chest, teasing over your already-sensitive skin. "You think you can handle that?" she taunts, tracing slow circles over your overstimulated clit, making your thighs twitch. "You’re still shaking, baby. After everything I’ve done to you, you really think you can take control?"

The challenge sends another shiver down your spine, your breath hitching as you push up onto shaky arms. "Let me try," you whisper, lips brushing against hers, your voice filled with determination despite the exhaustion in your limbs.

Agatha leans back against the pillows, her body stretched out beneath you, radiating heat and authority even in repose. Her cock, still thick and glistening with a mix of your slick and her own release, stands hard between her legs, a silent challenge. The way she watches you; head tilted, lips curled in a knowing smirk; makes your pulse spike, a flush crawling up your chest.

"Go on then," she murmurs, voice laced with amusement, fingers idly trailing up her stomach. "Show me what you can do, baby."

Your thighs tremble as you shift forward, crawling into position, your body still aching from the relentless way she’s used you but the hunger still simmers beneath the exhaustion, pulsing low in your belly. You want this. Need this. Need to take her in deep, to feel every inch stretch you open again.

You straddle her lap, your hands braced against her stomach, feeling the taut muscles flex beneath your palms as you hover just above her length. The heat of her cock brushes against your swollen folds, sending a fresh shudder through you. She feels like fire against your skin. Thick and rigid, pulsing with need, the tip teasing against your entrance as you roll your hips ever so slightly, coating her in your arousal.

Agatha hums in approval, her hands gliding up your thighs, slow and possessive. "Look at you," she murmurs, her thumbs pressing into the sensitive skin where your legs meet your hips. "So desperate to have me inside you again. Can’t get enough, can you?"

You bite your lip, but she catches your chin between her fingers, forcing your gaze to meet hers. "Say it."

Your breath stutters, your body burning from the inside out as you whisper, "I can’t get enough of you."

Her smirk deepens. "Good girl."

She releases you just as you sink down, your breath catching in your throat as the thick head of her cock pushes past your entrance, stretching you inch by inch. The burn is instant—blissful, overwhelming, your walls struggling to take her all at once.

Agatha groans beneath you, her fingers digging into your thighs. "Fuck, you’re tight," she rasps, watching with hooded eyes as you slowly lower yourself onto her, taking her deeper, letting the length of her disappear inside you.

Your head falls back as you bottom out, her cock nestled impossibly deep, pressing against every nerve inside you. The sensation is devastating, a perfect mix of pleasure and pressure, and you tremble above her, nails scraping against her abdomen as you struggle to catch your breath.

"Feel that?" Agatha murmurs, her voice smug as she presses a hand against your lower stomach, right where she’s buried to the hilt. "So deep I can feel myself inside you again. Fuck baby."

You whimper, rolling your hips experimentally, the movement sending sharp waves of pleasure through you. The drag of her cock against your walls is slow and torturous, every inch brushing against that spot inside you that makes your vision blur.

Agatha watches you struggle to find a rhythm, her grip tightening. "Come on, baby," she taunts, giving your thigh a sharp slap that makes you jolt. "You wanted to ride me. Show me how much you need it."

A determined fire flares in your chest, and you plant your hands against her shoulders, lifting yourself just enough before sinking back down, harder this time. The impact sends a delicious jolt through you, pleasure sparking at the base of your spine.

Agatha groans, her hands sliding up to your chest, palms covering your breasts, squeezing as she rolls your sensitive nipples between her fingers. The sensation makes you gasp, the mix of pleasure and pain sending a fresh wave of arousal pooling between your thighs.

"That’s it," she murmurs, her grip firm but teasing, playing with your body as she lets you work yourself on her cock. "Such pretty tits, bouncing every time you take me. Keep going, baby. Make yourself cum on me."

The words send a rush of heat through you, your movements growing desperate, erratic, your nails digging into her skin as you chase the high she’s leading you toward. The pleasure coils deep in your belly, unbearably tight, and when Agatha tweaks your nipple just right, rolling it between her fingers, it snaps.

A strangled cry rips from your throat as your climax crashes over you, your entire body shaking as pleasure consumes you. Your walls clench down around her, pulsing, milking her cock with every wave of your release.

Agatha groans, her thrusts turning erratic as she follows, burying herself deep inside you with one final snap of her hips. The warmth of her release floods your core, thick and hot, filling you completely as her grip tightens around you.

Then, with a smirk, Agatha leans in, nipping at your jaw but this time, her touch is softer. As you collapse onto her chest, spent and trembling, she strokes a hand down your back, her other hand massaging the sore muscles of your thighs.

"You did so well for me," she murmurs, pressing lazy kisses against your shoulder. "My good girl."

You hum, barely able to keep your eyes open as her hands knead away the ache, working out the tension she put into you. The warmth of her touch soothes the lingering sting of overstimulation, and for a moment, you think about letting yourself drift off.

But you don’t. You can’t.

The rules are the rules. Your rules.

With effort, you shift, slipping from her grasp, your limbs still shaky as you slide out of bed. Agatha watches as you stand, stretching despite the soreness in your legs, and move toward where your clothes are strewn across the floor.

"You’re not gonna shower?" she asks, her tone casual but curious as she props herself up on an elbow, watching you with sharp eyes.

You shake your head, pulling your clothes back on with practiced efficiency. "I’ll do it at home."

Agatha doesn’t say anything for a moment, just studies you as you gather your things. Then, without breaking eye contact, she reaches for the bedside table, grabs the check she had prepared, and hands it to you.

"You know…" she starts, voice slower now, something unreadable beneath the surface. "You can stay the night."

The offer lingers in the air between you, heavier than it should be.

But the rules are the rules.

You take the check, meeting her gaze one last time before slipping out the door.

And Agatha watches you go.

[yandere-paramour]

Oh....ohhh my baby 😭 your jamie & lil atalanta art is SOOOOO CUTEE 🥺🥺🥹 But it got me thinking......typically I can totally imagine in her case as a wealthy only child who grew up with parents who love her, her growth would be documented A LOT (or maybe just a normal amount?)

But what's the case for vivien & noelle? 🥺 I assume with their environment growing up they won't have as much childhood pictures as atalanta? Oh nooo now the thought makes me so saddd 😭 I have many pics of lil me that my mom took (and I begrudgingly pose cutely for every single one) and I love showing it off to people now whenever I find one (thanks mom)

I know the yans would love any pics of me but ngl if I show them MY childhood pics I'd bound to get curious and ask about theirs in return

You're right. Atalanta's childhood was very carefully documented. There are THOUSANDS of photos of her growing up, you can honestly put them side by side and see a linear progression of her evolution to adulthood. There are pictures of her being born, her preschool field trips, her kindergarten graduation, her sports games and debate tournaments, all going up until she was dropped off at college, and there's more continuing from there. Both parents have a rotating slideshow on a digital touchscreen photo shuffle in their respective studies and they would love to show you. It embarrasses Ata to no end.

And yes, she learned very young to always look adorable and perfect for the camera even if you feel like throttling someone. The Montclairs have a reputation to uphold, after all.

Childhood pictures of Noelle are few and far between, but she and Odette made out better than the younger girls Celeste, Thérèse, and Blanche (Noelle's little sisters reveal!!!). Her mother was too busy working a dead-end job and sucking and fucking to take pictures of the kids, but they do have a few baby and toddler pictures each, often with one or two sisters nearby, and a range of school pictures every year. Noelle doesn't like them much. All her childhood was spent as a skinny, bruised little brat with a choppy, uneven haircut and stained, ill-fitting hand-me-downs with holes in them from the clothing drive. Noelle never had anything new until college, and she doesn't like being made to be reminded of her shitty childhood. She does take pictures of the younger sisters now, but they're teenagers and hate it, but Noelle knows they will want actual good reminders of their childhood when they're older.

Vivien has some childhood pictures, but they're sporadic or lost to time. When he was very small, there were always "well-meaning" foster families wanting such a cute kid, and they would take him to fun places like the zoo or children's museum and take pictures of him. But they would inevitably get tired of his hyperactive and distractible behavior and they would get rid of him, sending him to the next family without any thought for his emotions or by sending on his pictures. Only a few families went far enough to develop the photos and give them to him. When he was older and had a somewhat worse reputation due to being taken in and returned so many times, he lived in a group home where no one takes pictures of you unless it's a mugshot.

However, he has tons of baby and toddler photos taken by his parents before they died. He was their first and only child and they adored him.

(Drawn by @sienna-brulee)

[alittlegiraffe]

Hiii i was wondering if i could request an eminem x reader, where reader is a popstar in the 90s-00s and her and em date secretly off and on between 99-02 and have a crazy connection but break up until the 2010s after marshall gets sober because they just couldnt get over eachother??? (Sorry if thats confusing or complex lol)

A/N: I really couldn't think of a way to add in her being a pop star without making it weird. Hope this is close enough.

Title: Still You

You never expected to hear from him again.

It had been years—years of moving on, of pretending you were fine, of forcing yourself to believe that some things just weren’t meant to be.

But then, out of nowhere, your phone rang.

And it was him.

You stared at the name on the screen, your heart hammering in your chest. Part of you thought about letting it go to voicemail, but your hands had a mind of their own, answering before you could stop yourself.

"...Hello?"

A Marshall Mathers x Reader Fanfiction

A beat of silence. Then, his voice—lower, rougher than you remembered, but still him.

"Hey."

You swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the counter. "Marshall?"

"Yeah." A breath, like he was trying to figure out what to say. "Uh… I know this is outta nowhere. I just—I needed to tell you somethin’."

You braced yourself. "Okay."

He exhaled, and when he spoke again, his voice was softer. "I got sober."

Your heart clenched.

You had dreamt of hearing those words—had begged for them back then, when you were still by his side, still trying to pull him out of the darkness he refused to see.

But he hadn’t been ready. And it had broken you.

"...Wow," you whispered, your throat tight. "Marshall, that’s—God, that’s amazing."

He let out a quiet laugh, almost disbelieving. "Yeah. Took me long enough."

You shook your head, even though he couldn’t see it. "No. You did it when you were ready. And I’m—" Your voice wavered. "I’m so damn proud of you."

Silence stretched between you, heavy with everything unspoken.

Finally, he cleared his throat. "I don’t expect anything from this call," he admitted. "I just… I needed to tell you. ‘Cause losing you? That was my rock bottom. And I just—" He hesitated. "Thank you."

You pressed a hand to your chest, trying to steady your breathing.

You had spent so long wondering if he had ever thought about you, if he had ever missed you the way you missed him.

And now, here he was, saying the words you had ached to hear.

"Marshall," you murmured, voice thick with emotion. "I never—" You paused, swallowing hard before trying again. "I never stopped loving you."

His breath hitched.

Your eyes burned with unshed tears. "I missed you every day. I still do."

The silence that followed wasn’t heavy this time. It was hopeful.

Like maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t the end of your story.

Maybe it never had to be.

Neither of you spoke for a long moment.

Marshall was still on the other end of the line, you could hear his breathing—uneven, like your words had knocked the air out of him.

You hadn’t meant to say it.

You weren’t supposed to say it.

But it had been there for years, locked away behind pride and heartbreak, and the second he called, the second you heard his voice, it all cracked wide open.

"You still—" He stopped, cleared his throat. "You still miss me?"

You closed your eyes. "Every day, Marshall."

Another silence. But this one felt different—charged, thick with something unsaid.

Finally, he let out a soft, disbelieving laugh. "Shit… I dunno what to say to that."

You smiled, shaking your head. "You don’t have to say anything."

He exhaled sharply. "Nah, I do. ‘Cause I miss you, too. Always did. Even when I tried to pretend I didn’t."

You leaned against the counter, gripping your phone tighter. "Then why didn’t you ever call before?"

He sighed. "Didn’t think I had the right to." A pause. "I fucked it up. I hurt you. And I knew if I ever wanted to fix shit, I had to fix me first."

Your heart twisted.

The man you had walked away from was stubborn, reckless—too lost in his addiction to see what he was destroying. But this? This was different.

This was growth.

This was him finally seeing himself the way you had always seen him.

"Are you happy?" you asked quietly.

Marshall hesitated. "Gettin’ there," he admitted. "S’not easy. Some days are harder than others. But I feel… clearer. More like myself than I have in years."

A warmth spread through your chest. "That’s all I ever wanted for you."

"I know," he murmured. "And I was too fucked up to see it."

Another silence. Another shift in the air.

Finally, he spoke again, voice careful. "Do you think… we could see each other?"

Your breath hitched.

You should’ve been scared. Should’ve hesitated.

But you didn’t.

"Yeah," you whispered. "I’d like that."

And for the first time in years, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

Right back where you started.

Right back where you belonged.

---

You hadn’t let yourself think about that night in a long time.

It was easier to bury it, to pretend that the final fight—the one that ended it all—was just another moment lost in the wreckage of what you and Marshall used to be.

But after hearing his voice again, after agreeing to see him, it all came rushing back like a wound torn open.

It had started like so many fights before—words sharp enough to cut, his eyes glassy, his hands twitching as he paced the living room.

"Why the fuck do you always have to start shit?" he had snapped, running a hand over his face.

You had laughed, but there was no humor in it. "I’m not starting shit, Marshall. I’m begging you to wake the fuck up."

He rolled his eyes, turning away from you, muttering something under his breath.

"Don’t do that," you had hissed. "Don’t act like I’m the problem when you’re the one getting high out of your mind every night."

He scoffed. "Oh, right. Because you never fucked up, huh? You’re so fucking perfect."

"This isn’t about me!" You had thrown your hands up, frustration boiling over. "This is about you being too fucking blind to see what you’re doing to yourself—to us."

"Jesus Christ, here we go again," he had muttered.

That’s when you lost it.

"You know what? Yeah, here we go again, Marshall! The same fucking cycle, the same excuses, the same bullshit. You promise you’ll get better, and I believe you, and then you turn around and prove me wrong every single time."

He had glared at you, jaw clenched, breathing heavy. "If I’m so fucking hopeless, why are you still here?"

And that’s when you knew.

Because the truth was, you had already been gone for a long time.

Your body was still in that house, your heart still trying to hold on, but the person you were—the person who had once believed he would fight for you, for himself—she had left months ago.

You had swallowed the lump in your throat, forcing your voice to stay steady. "I don’t know," you had admitted.

That had stopped him in his tracks.

His expression had changed—not angry, not defensive. Just… lost.

You had seen the flicker of something behind his eyes, something real, something terrified.

But it was too late.

"I can’t do this anymore," you had whispered. "I love you, Marshall. But I can’t watch you destroy yourself."

His hands had curled into fists at his sides. "So that’s it?" His voice had cracked. "That’s it?"

And maybe, if he had said something else—anything else—you would’ve stayed.

But he hadn’t.

He had just stared at you, letting the silence fill the space between you, his pride swallowing the words he was too afraid to say.

So you had turned around, grabbed your bag, and walked out the door.

And he had let you.

Now, sitting on your couch, your phone still clutched in your hands, you let out a shaky breath.

He had let you walk away back then.

But tonight?

Tonight, he was the one who reached out.

And maybe—just maybe—this time, neither of you would let go.

[karinadele]

Hydromorphone

Ratchet x Reader pt:3 pt:1 pt:2

A/N: so hard to write... I just write less and less for each block... might need to revisit before I post on AO3 properly..

Warnings: Obsessed!Ratchet, Pregnancy, Medical, Literally giving birth, Still a little dead dove

Half a year seems like an eternity usually. Yet in the blink of an eye, 9 months have gone by. Ratchet has grown increasingly close to you. With each tidbit of knowledge that you’ve taught him about the human reproductive system, it only fuels his desire to become yours. And it doesn’t help that the lingering image of not needing to mass displace keeps circulating in his processors. He doesn’t want to hurt you, but something about being able to take him whole –as he is, makes him heat to his spark.

You’ve noticed it too. His devotion to you. It’s not everyday someone will physically transform themselves for your wellbeing. And yet, he’s done exactly that.

As you lay down on the berth in the medbay, Ratchet has one servo on it, the other holding you. 

Learning about the medical practice of performing ultrasounds to see the inside of you, he worked on his servos to transform it into one. One directly linked to him.

One would think it’s uncomfortable to have human data– data of another life, transmitted directly to you. But not Ratchet. To be able to physically be in contact with you. To be able to see the life you’re bringing in, with nothing but a few layers of flesh between. 

Pouring the ultrasound gel on your stomach as you let out a small whimper. The cold and sticking texture being rubbed on with a single digit by Ratchet. You know he’s just doing this to check on you, but the difference in texture is just too much for you to not notice.

Ratchet instantly filed that sound into his processors. Not showing any difference in his displayed emotions, but his vents gave off a wave of hot air. 

Sliding his now servo transformed transducer, as he glides it across your belly. You may not be able to see the sonogram, but he has it all recorded. Every movement inside you, of the baby, straight into his core processors. 

He could project it so that you can see the sonogram, but there was no need. Your regular appointments with human doctors has kept you up to date about how the baby is doing. This? This is just for Ratchet’s own peace of mind. Allowing him to be a little self indulgent about it. Perhaps one of the last times before your due date. As a doctor, you couldn’t deny his chance to have first hand –servo experience on studying the human body. 

You may think it’s just all in scientific endeavors, but Ratchet wants this just to be close to you. He won’t lie, studying human life is intriguing, but it’s because it’s you. Cybertron’s population only dwindles with the war, and to know that humans reproduce so easily… Only makes him think that perhaps, he could have a part in it.

Unsurprisingly, throughout this journey, you two have grown quite close. Bonding over the shared joy of a new life –albeit, was neither of yours, two being with nothing but love for life. 

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

“YOU WHAT?!” Ratchet exclaimed.

“MY WATER BROKE RATCHET.” You yell back. Stern and steady, but also panicking internally. 

Pulling himself away from his work, panic rings through him. What do you mean your water broke?! Does he call June right now?! Do you even have time?!

“Hold on, I’ll call June–”

You cut him off. “Ratchet! Forget her! By the time she gets here, It’ll already be over!”

Ratchet has no idea what to do. There’s no other bots on base, and he’s definitely not equipped to deliver a human baby.

“Ratchet!” You call out. “For fuck’s sake Ratchet! You’re an ambulance!” You finally snap with the strength you have left.

He’d nearly forgotten. There may be no other bots on base, but he is an emergency vehicle. Hurriedly he punches in the coordinates of the nearest hospital into the groundbridge. Not even remembering that there’s no one on base to close it after. Picking you up from the couch as he puts you down on the ground next to him. 

Taking a step aside as he transforms into his alt mode. “Get in.” He tells you.

Scrambling with a groan as you put your knee up into the ambulance’s back, climbing onto the stretcher. You’re fine. You tell yourself as you lay on the stretcher –why is there even a stretcher in here? Staring up to the ceiling of the van– of Ratchet. …Inside Ratchet?

Driving through the groundbridge as he switches his sirens on, speeding towards the hospital. Never in his life did he feel so helpless for a medical emergency. And to think, it’s you. 

You on the other hand, amongst the painful grumbles and heavy panting, didn’t even realize you were crowning. Unable to hear anything Ratchet is saying, or the sirens, as all of your senses are dulled just trying to focus on whether to clench your muscles, or to just start pushing. 

In the end, the body’s biology wins. Without even noticing, you cry out in pain, push after push.

Ratchet can't believe it. Not only did you give birth, but it happened in him. Of all beings this child has encountered, it was you and him. Primus help him.

Pulling up at the hospital, Ratchet’s calm demeanor is being washed with a wave of panic. Deciding the only way is to pull out a holoform. He couldn’t transform with you in him, or just drive into the hospital. A projection of his human avatar flickers into life in the driver’s seat. A middle aged man with dirty blonde hair and teal blue eyes opens the driver’s door as he steps out to carry you in. Pulling out the stretcher as it lands on the asphalt and rolling you into the hospital. Explaining to the intake staff your situation as you cradle the newborn, umbilical cord still attached. A bloody mess.

Soon enough, you’re upstairs in the maternity ward, with the doctors examined, your friends, and a holoform of Ratchet.

Ratchet doesn’t know who these two men are, or why they’re here. Nor do the couple know who Ratchet is. Unable to answer them when they asked for Ratchet’s relationship to you as he stammered.

“I’m her conj–” He stopped himself. Is he even your conjunx? Have you also accepted him? Would the human equivalent be ‘partner?’

“I’m her friend.” He ended up correcting himself. “The one that drove her here.” At least that part isn’t a lie.

What are these two men to you? They seem awfully attached to you, both sitting next to you as they cradle the newborn. Your child, in their hands. An internal turmoil of an unknown feeling battles in him. Frowning as he stares at the three of you. Wishing it was he that was next to you, holding your sparkling.

Jealousy.

Clenching his servos as he tells himself that you’re his. That he will mark you, have you carry his sparkling, That he’ll own you AND never let anyone else have contact with you. Certainly not the way these two men have.

[4lexnilsen]

“mhm,”   a soft hum of agreement escapes alex’s lips,  pressed against the rim of the glass in an attempt to refrain from grinning.   he’s surprisingly thirsty and takes another sip,  blaming it on the sweet churros dipped in an even sweeter sauce.   “been feelin’ this way since i first saw you.   made my heart sink when you said you had a boyfriend,  forgot i had a girlfriend of my own.”   it’s a shameless confession,  but suddenly all inhibitions are lost on him.   “you got a little…   here.”   he gently takes the crumpled napkin from her small hand and wipes the sticky droplets that have landed near the corner of her mouth.   “nah,  make-up ain’t got nothin’ to do with it.”   finding her giggles infectious,  he hears himself chuckling.   “is just the way you are.”   gazing at her all dreamily,  there’s a strange buzz humming low,  deep in his chest,  softening the edges of the world around them.   “on halloween,  when i —”   a small hiccup interrupts him.   “put that,  uh,  ridic’lous deer makeup on you…   wow.   ya still looked like a millllion bucks!”   that’s how he knows it has nothing to do with makeup.   she has the face of a supermodel.

hearing helena explain how she’s feeling about walking in on harry with another woman,  alex nods excessively and a little too enthusiastically,  his lids growing heavier.   “ew!   i mean,  y-you dodged the bullet here.   you could’ve gotten harpies!”   his thoughts have gotten a little fuzzy,  but they’re more free now,  tumbling over each other like a stack of unsteady paperbacks.   “hair-piece.   wait,  how do you say that?   you know what i mean…   the disease that makes your lips blister and stuff.”   herpes.   “that’s what you get when you kiss someone who been eatin’ rotten takeout.”   apparently,  his drunk self is too respectful to say the word pussy in front of a lady.   his own hand flying up to where her fingers are digging into his bicep,  giving it a gentle pat,  then a squeeze.   “we’ll do that…   umm,”   pausing as if he had to check his calendar for a slot to book them another brawl with harry,   “tuh-mahh-row.”   his finger jabbing the smooth surface of the bar with each syllable,  emphasizing.   “das when we do it.”   tonight they have more important matters to attend to,  clearly.   “your tongue’s a…   oh,  is so red!”   he laughs,  sticking his own out in an attempt to examine it.   “does it t—”   taste.   “tasht like…   strawb’ries?”   drool dribbling down his chin,  his tongue still hanging out of his mouth.

“oh,  no,  no,  no,  helena.”   growing serious once again,  he shakes his head in a dramatic manner.   brows inching closer together.   “thass no ‘scuse.”   he downs his drink and beams at the bartender,  getting them a third round.   “y-you ain’t ‘bligated t’sleep with ‘im.   he shou’ be able to keep it in ‘is pants if he loves you.   fuck ‘im.   thass no real man,  lil cat.”   another shake of his head.   the world is spinning a little faster when he does it,  and it amuses him.   he’s aware of the slight fog settling in,  the kind that makes you feel like you’re in a dream,  detached yet fully present.   his mind swaying on that line between feeling invincible and just plain exhausted,  emotions heightened.   “nah,  heleni…   wha’ makes it sh-shtupid,”   well,  that’s a surprisingly difficult word to pronounce,   “is…   it’d be jus’ a reg’lar friends trip.   shou’ be a honey —   hon’ymoon,”   he giggles when she tickles his cheek,  leaning in closer because the sensation makes his belly all fluttery and light.   words making a lot of sense in his mind.   he likes her too much to call it an ordinary summer trip.   he would happily take her on a honeymoon,  though.   

“LIKE?” honey eyes go wide, nearly choking on the drink. like like or like? drink splattering onto the counter top as the words don’t like her like poppy has her doing a SPIT TAKE. quickly dabbing at her chin with a napkin, she’s smart and pretty too? he’s either really good at lying or crazier than she thought. “why am i pretty? hm. it’s because of my new makeup?” kittenishly smirking, cupping her jaw in both hands at herself in her makeup box’s mirror before head throws back in bubbly laughter. “i don’t know,” ruby lips suddenly purse, sharp nail swirling the water droplets on the counter. sad emotions swiftly poured into all these happy ones, “i’m so glad harry made us done. but it hurts the WAY it was done. he — he really was going to jus’? he was REALLY going to jus’ do explicit RATED R things with that girl then come home to me?” voice squeaking in anger, the idea making her livid, “oh my god— i think we need to go and kick his ass some more, that scum! his tongue alex,” grabbing his arm, getting animated in her disbelief, “his tonguee was just a smidge from YOU KNOW WHERE,” exclaiming in horror, pointing at her red tongue she sticks out, “i can’t believe it…” voice shrinking to a lower octave as she lets go and suddenly turns back forward, about to start crying all over again until she remembers her makeup. “but i get it… i didn’t want to whore out in the twenty four months we were together so he needed a whore but still!?” angrily snatching her drink, sipping aggressively. “wait , what do you mean stupid trip sir? what’s stupid? what makes it stu-pidd? you won’t go with me because i’m smart and pretty, in your own words, so that makes it stupid?” HUH? helena lifts her braid in the midst of her word vomit, using the fluffy end to rub against his cheek.

[on-a-lucky-tide]

As someone who wants to join the fandom more but it’s too scared to do so, I’m wondering how did you cultivated this community…? It’s so sweet to watch the way you talk to others and helping their works and such. How did you meet like…??? people ??? Like I always see you tagging the artists (ngl I found your blog because of Gomz) and I’d really want to learn, I’ve tried joining previous fandoms and it was always too competitive in some sense, like everyone was busy pushing their works for likes and retweets (maybe it’s more of a twitter thing)

Oh yeah. That's a Twitter thing. Twitter is a cesspit and I only go there for porn. The whole thing is set up to make people feel shite because people that feel shite scroll for longer/look at more adverts. Lock your account, bud. You'll feel a lot better.

But everywhere else? Gratitude and humility. Also, understanding what I wanted from fandom; a small community that hypes each other and encourages new people. Those are my bros (non-gendered). My Cakeshop Bros I found five years ago in fandom; they have slept in my spare bedroom, I've gone drinking, played boardgames, and we laid on the floor in London in a space art installation near Soho being weirdos drunk off our heads. Not just fandom friends now, friends for life.

When I first started posting for CoD, I was dead nervous as I'd been stung in a previous fandom. People took a chance on me as a new person; they reblogged my work with the sweetest tags. They hyped me. They took the time out of their day for a stranger, and they didn't have to. They coulda just read it and moved on. So, I said thank you in their inbox, or in their DMs. We started talking more, I was a bit weird and they vibed back. They are also good people. Genuinely. You mentioned Gomz; literally, so kind, so sweet. Deserves the world.

When I can, I make sure I hype them back; I wish I could do more but my job is absolute pig in terms of time. It's mock season (now over, woohoo) so I have a backlog of fics to catch up on - Nekro, Mikey, T, Oliv, Nikkie, Hexx, Gomz (who I deffo know have written), but there are probably more! I'll set a few hours aside over half term with a beer and crack on.

Also, I guarantee everyone is as nervous as you are. Everyone gets imposter syndrome. And also, everyone gets jealous. Jealousy is a natural human emotion that you need to process into something productive. "I'm jealous" = "this person is really fucking good, has worked hard, I'm gonna encourage them and learn from them because they clearly know their shit". Reframing rather than ignoring or letting it fester. They're just people after all and probably shitting themselves as much as I was.

I also guarantee you I am not everyone's cup of tea. And that's ok. Letting go of the burning desire to be liked by all, sometimes at the expense of my own bloody happiness and seeing it as a personal failing if I wasn't, was probably one of the most powerful things I did for myself over the last five years. The only thing I care about in regards to others is if I acted with integrity and kindness (not necessarily niceness). That's all I can control.

Sorry, mate. That came off as a bit of a rant! But uh, don't be scared. Keep reaching out. Be feral.