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thehoneybeestings · 2 months ago

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𝐫𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐞𝐝

𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐚 𝐱 𝐦𝐞𝐥’𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Word Count: 3.6K

Synopsis: Your best friend has invited you to a Piltover Gala. You wouldn't be so worried if the guest list didn't include Ambessa Medarda: the woman you've been seeing secretly for months, and, of course, your best friend's mother...

Content/Warnings: slight divergence from canon (i guess piltover and noxus are cool w each other now), nsfw, reader is referred to w fem pronouns/has fem anatomy, reader has hair long enough to pull, jealous!ambessa, dom!ambessa, sub!reader, bondage, spanking, vibrator use, strap use, reader gives ambessa head mhmmm, consent checks bc ambessa is a good dom, mel stop meddling in your best friend's love life challenge failed, jayce stop being sassy challenge failed, sappho exists in this universe bc she exists in every universe I write sorry not sorry

A/N: i just realized that anon asked for the reader's relationship to be exposed and I totally forgot to incorporate that aspect, but i was thinking i might do a little drabble soon of mel's reaction to the reader's relationship with her mom... what do you guys think? anywho... for now, i hope i did this request justice and that you enjoy! based on this ask (thank you anon!)

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐁𝐞𝐞 ୨ৎ

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

“This is bad, Jayce.”

You’re staring at yourself in the lighted full-length mirror in Mel’s bedroom-sized closet, hands nervously running up and down the tulle skirt of your dress; one of five that Mel had custom made for you to choose from for tomorrow’s gala.

You should be ecstatic. Who wouldn’t love the chance to dress up in Piltover’s finest garments, playing pretend with the nobles while you gorge yourself on fancy hors d'oeuvres and drown yourself in free champagne with your best friend?

You would be ecstatic if it weren’t for the fact that on the guest list was Ambessa Medarda: Noxian warrior by day, your secret lover by night.

Oh, and lest you forget: your best friend’s mother.

“So, so bad…” you mutter, stepping off of the circular podium and plopping down in the velvet chaise beside it.

“Really? You know, I was gonna say the color really brings out your eyes-”

Jayce is cut off by a mouthful of the gown that you throw at him from across the room.

“Not the dress, Jayce!”

Reading the room was not his forte.

“Hey, watch it,” he scolds, “this is Noxian silk! Be delicate!”

Case and point. You roll your eyes at him as he fumbles to place the gown back on its hanger.

“Listen,” he sighs, walking over to where you're sprawled out helplessly on the chaise. He lifts your leaden legs, sits down beside you, and places them on his lap. “It’s going to be fine. Ambessa knows the two of you are keeping things… you know… on the low,”

You cringe at his attempted use of slang.

“Yeah, I didn’t like that either, didn’t feel natural at all- anyway! Ambessa knows you aren’t ready to tell Mel about the two of you. She’ll keep her distance, you’ll keep yours, and you’ll get to have a fun night with your best friend. Don’t overthink it.”

You nod slowly, bottom lip between your teeth as you mull over his words.

“You’re right,” you say with a soft smile. “you’re right. It’ll be fine.”

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

What you had not accounted for was that Mel had been plotting to set you up with an acquaintance of hers, and she figured, what better night to introduce the two of you than at an event such as this?

“What the hell?” You whisper-scream, pulling Mel into a secluded corner of the beautiful ballroom.

“What?” She asks, feining innocence; although, she knew entirely well that the reason she’d chosen to give you no notice of this potential suitor was because you would have enthusiastically declined, as you always did.

“Mel,” you scold, “why did you not tell me I’d have some date entertain? One has to prepare herself for these things!”

“Oh, come on, you make it sound like you’re on babysitting duty. She’s perfectly pleasant! A little bit older- just as you like-”

Your face heats up,

“And very kind! Brilliant, too; we’re in a book club together and her analysis each week is thoroughly impressive.”

Wariness is still written all over your face.

“Please, Y/n?” Mel pleads, “Just give her tonight. See how it goes. If you don’t click, you never have to see her again.”

You sigh. It isn’t the clicking you’re worried about; you’re sure she is “perfectly pleasant,” and she is easy on the eyes. You might have even been interested if it weren’t for the woman in red across the room whose eyes were already on you like a hawk. At times, you couldn’t even see that she was staring; you simply felt it. The invisible pull, tantalizing and thick with tension…

And gods, here was her daughter in front of you. You’re nearly mortified at the circumstance.

Nevertheless, you’d need to play it off. If you were too averse to the idea of spending time with this suitor- Clara, was it?- Mel would want to know why, and her prying was relentless.

“Fine,” you resign with a sigh, “I will entertain her-and you- just this once.”

The woman in front of you squeals in excitement. You feign amusement, but deep down, you know: if Ambessa sees you humoring this woman, you’re screwed.

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

“Ah, yes; the poems of Sappho. Some of my favorites,” Clara muses.

The two of you have taken to discussing your favorite authors and works of literature, unsurprisingly, considering that Mel mentioned meeting Clara at her book club. This was a good topic, you thought. Pleasant enough to stay engaged, but not so engaging that she’d get the chance for her to make any moves.

Clara moves in closer, lowering her voice to speak to you.

“Mel mentioned you were a big fan of her work,” she says with a coy smile.

Damn it, you think, I should have stayed away from Sappho!

“She also mentioned that you were very bright, and I must admit,”

She leans down to whisper into your ear,

“You’ve got beauty to match your brains.”

“O-oh,” you stutter with an awkward laugh, “Thanks.”

Clara gives you an amused smirk. She must think she’s flustered you, and not that you’ve just caught sight of Ambessa glaring at her.

“Your drink is empty,” she observes.

“Oh! Yes... it is.”

“Allow me.”

Clara takes the empty glass from your hands, sauntering over to the bar and leaving you alone… finally, until,

“How’s it going?”

You jump at the sound of Mel’s voice in your ear from behind you.

“Gods, Mel! You scared me!”

“Oh, pfft. I didn’t mean to; but tell me! Are the two of you getting on alright?”

You give her a shrug and a half-hearted smile.

“We both like Sappho…”

“Wonderful! I knew the two of you would have so much in common, I simply-”

The rest of Mel’s match-maker ramble fades to white noise when suddenly, from the corner of your eye, you see Ambessa approaching.

“...and the two of you- are you listening?!”

Your wide eyes snap back to her. “Sorry! It’s just-”

Her gaze follows yours, and her eyes land on her mother.

“Gods, Y/n. She isn’t that intimidating, you know.”

“Right,” you exhale.

Right. Intimidated of the renowned Noxian warrior in front of you. That’s what you were. Not terrified of her daughter finding out you were sleeping with her, not bewildered at the fact that you’re sleeping with her in the first place, and certainly not a little turned on by the glare she just gave you…

“Enjoying the party, mother?” Mel greets.

“Only as much as I typically enjoy these sorts of events, dear,” she sighs, adjusting the ornate gold jewelry circling her bicep in a practiced movement.

“You’re bored out of your mind and ready to go home to your library,” Mel deadpans.

“Precisely.”

You let out a chuckle at the interaction. Ambessa’s attention is back on you.

“How are you, Y/n?”

You short circuit for a moment, not expecting her to address you directly.

“Oh! I- I’m fine. Same as you. Ready to curl up with a good book.”

Her gaze softens for a moment. She knows how much you love to read; you’ve spent hours upon hours tackling her personal collection.

Mel sighs with a roll of her eyes. “She’s not enjoying her company.”

You glare at Mel, cursing her mouthiness.

“I try so hard to set her up with people- who I believe are perfectly good matches, by the way- but she’s quite picky, this one.”

Ambessa knows this, too.

You let out an incredulous scoff.

“Mel!”

Ambessa smiles again. This time, there’s something else to it. Something mischievous… calculated.

“Not to worry, dear,” she begins, looking at you, “there are plenty of fish in the sea.”

You’re glad you aren’t nursing champagne at the moment, or you might have choked on it.

“Oh! There’s Jayce,” Mel excitedly begins, sights set on the double doors at the front of the room. “I’ll be back in a moment. Mother, do try not to scare my guest.”

You watch in poorly concealed horror as Mel prances off, leaving you along with Ambessa.

When you finally dare to look at her, she’s staring down at you with narrowed eyes and a set jaw.

“So-”

She cuts you off with a hum.

You sigh, eyebrows furrowing as you begin to plead with her.

“Ambessa, I can explain,”

“No need.”

Your stomach drops. She’s pissed, and there’s not shit you can do about it.

She walks forward, leaning down to whisper in your ear just as Clara had moments ago.

“Tonight, half-past 10. My quarters.”

With that, she walks away, shoulder brushing yours as she leaves to stand there with you face running pale.

Your eyes are trained on the flickering candles adorning the table in front of you as you imagine what she has planned, what she might say to you, what she might do to you-

“Your champagne, miss.”

Clara interrupts your train of thought with a gentle hand on your shoulder.

You turn to her, forcing a smile.

“Might we get something stronger?”

──˚₊•୨ৎ•‧₊˚──

It’s 10:29 when you arrive at the intricately carved wooden door to Ambessa’s room. She was already upset; you wouldn't dare have her wait on top of it.

You raise your hand to knock on the solid wood, hand pausing in the air.

You close your eyes, take a deep breath, and leave a soft knock on the door.

It opens in an instant, Ambessa peering down at you with an icy glint in her eyes.

She takes a deep breath of her own, gaze unyielding as she cocks her head to the side, motioning towards the room behind her and stepping aside to let you in.

The moment you step over the threshold, the door slams behind you, and you, into it.

Ambessa’s hold is firm on your hips, pressing you into the door.

“Have fun tonight, darling?”

Her breath fans your face. You look up at her with wide eyes and racing heart.

“It was… fine,” you whisper, breath shaky.

She pulls her head back with an cocked brow.

“Shared a few drinks with her, hm?”

“It was just… courtesy.”

Her hands drop from your waist, and she walks away with a scoff and a crooked smile.

“A flute of champagne is courtesy. Liquor denotes something else entirely.”

Your shoulders sag in defeat. “I just-”

you sigh,

“I just wanted to take the edge off a bit. You made me nervous.”

She smirks.

“Aw,” she croons, strolling back over to you. She stops in front of you, lifting your chin with her forefinger and thumb and demanding your eyes meet hers.

“I make you nervous?”

Your eyes flick down to her soft lips, then back up to her eyes.

“You know you make me nervous.”

You dare to raise a brow at her.

“You like it.”

Her smirk drops.

“You've been playing with fire tonight, dear.”

Her hand moves to hold the back of your neck, and she pulls you in until your lips barely touch hers.

“I don't want to hear you complain that you got burned.”

Her lips slam into yours. You gasp when the hand on the back of your head weaves into your hair and tugs; she uses the opportunity to slip her tongue into your mouth.

Ambessa does everything with intent-with purpose- kisses included. There was no such thing as a haste peck on the lips, a fleeting kiss on the forehead; each and every touch she delivered to you said something.

Tonight, her touch says, “You're mine. No one else’s.”

She finally pulls away, leaving you breathless under her composed gaze. The corner of her lips pull up into a smirk. She always got a kick out of this; slowly unraveling you while she remained entirely unphased.

You should feel embarrassed. You love it.

“On the bed,” she commands, releasing her grip on your hair, “and strip- that’s Noxian silk. We can't have you ruining it.”

You can't help but chuckle- remembering Jayce’s own comment about the luxurious material- as you lean down to take your heels off. Normally, she'd do this for you; kneeling down to undo the tiny buckle on the straps of your heels before sliding them off of your feet, moving up to pull the zipper of dress down while planting a kiss on your shoulder, asking you to give her twirl when you're finally left barren except for the delicate lingerie she would have gifted you.

Not tonight, though. Tonight, you won't be allowed the luxury of her delicateness.

Goosebumps appear on your skin as you make your way to the bed, knowing you're in for one hell of a ride. Ambessa could be so gentle with you, but she could be equally as rough and unforgiving, and as she pulls a vibrator out from the drawer next to her bed, you know you're about to find out just how unforgiving she can be.

“A-Ambessa…” you stutter, crawling back against the pillows against the headboard.

She didn't usually start with a vibrator. She knew the immediate intensity of its stimulation was often too much to begin with, so she'd spend her time working you up before she thought about retrieving it.

She didn't give a damn about that tonight.

“What's the matter, dear? Regretting your bad behavior already?”

“Ambessa, it really wasn't what you-”

“Truthfully,” she cuts you off with a glare, “I don't really care to hear any excuses.”

She places the vibrator next to you. She's also gathered a few restraints: two to tie your hands to the headboard, and two to tie your ankles to the footboard.

“You know that I've never been fond of sharing my possessions, dear,” she begins, tying your first hand to a rung. “Surely, this isn't news to you.”

She restrains the other, then moves down to restrain your feet.

You're starfished on the soft comforter now, rendered completely helpless and at her disposal.

Just as she wanted you.

She climbs onto the bed, running a hand up your leg.

“Surely, you knew what would happen if you decided to test me as you did,” she muses.

She runs a finger through the slick that's already begun to collect in between your legs. A shiver courses through you again.

“Or was this your plan all along? Hm?”

Her hand trails up your stomach, through the valley of your breasts, and stops around your throat. She leans down, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“You wanted to be fucked like a common whore tonight, didn't you?”

You don’t have time to respond before she turns on the vibrator, pressing it to the swollen bud of nerves at your center. You yelp as your body betrays you, hips bucking up into the already overstimulating sensation.

“Shit, Bessa, ‘m sorry,” you cry out, looking up at her with pleasing eyes.

Of course, her only response is a maniacal laugh.

“Begging for me to go easy on you already? My darling,” she croons, leaning down to place a kiss on your jaw, “we’ve only just begun.”

She turns the vibrator up to the next setting. Tears have already begun to prick your eyes.

Yeah. You were screwed alright. Royally screwed.

As soon as your hips stop spasming on the the vibrator placed at your core- as soon as you start to catch your breath- she turns up the intensity, until she’s tortured you through all of its seven settings. She doesn’t bother letting up after you come, just watches you pull and flail against your restraints as your pussy clenches around nothing.

The line between needing her inside of you and needing her to stop all together is starting to blur like your teary vision. Your breath comes out in fast pants, eyebrows furrowed as the pleasure bleeds into pain.

Her commanding voice pulls you out of your daze.

“Color?”

When you don’t respond quickly enough- too busy trying to come back to earth just long enough to find your words- she pulls the toy away.

As unrelenting as she could be, Ambessa was never cruel with you; she’d never cross a line or cause harm to you.

Her hand comes to rest on your cheek, wiping away stray tears as your breath begins to even.

“Green,” you finally exhale with a crooked smile.

She gives you a smirk of her own. “Dirty girl.”

She reaches up to loosen the restraints on your wrists, fingers tracing the delicate skin to be sure it isn’t too irritated. She moves down to your ankles to do the same, but you’re too tired to change your positions, limbs still splayed out for her.

“Have I tired you, dear?” She coos.

You nod with a soft chuckle, hand finally coming down to brush a stray hair from your face. Your eyes flutter closed, the world around you becoming fuzzy. You hear the faint sound of her drawer opening and closing- she’s putting the restraints away, you presume- before the weight of her knees on either side of your hips presses into to mattress.

“You’ve done so good,” she praises, pressing kisses to your face. The touch is a stark contrast to the hands that suddenly grip your sides, flipping you to lay on your stomach. Your eyes fly open, and roll right back into your head when she grabs a handful of your hair, yanking you flush against her chest. Your hands reach out to the headboard, stabilizing you as she delivers a smack to the swell of your ass.

“It’s such a shame when good girls misbehave.”

You hadn’t realized all the rummaging she’d been doing was her putting the strap on, until you feel the dull head of the silicone press against your entrance.

You hiss, still all too sensitive from your first punishment.

“Ambessa, I c-”

“Do not tell me that isn’t exactly what you anticipated when you decided to thow yourself onto another woman while I was a mere 30 feet away.”

You don’t respond. You knew better than to lie.

“Color,” she demands.

“Green,” you whine.

She presses your head into the pillow below you, and your hips arch up into her own. She guides the toy into your sopping walls, slow and careful to be sure you adjust to her length.

The pace she sets is anything but. Both hands find your hips as her own snap into you. She pulls you back to meet each thrust, the tip of her cock brushing your cervix each time.

You're a babbling, drooling mess underneath her.

“B-Bessa… ‘s so deep… fuck, you're deep…”

A hand moves up to splay across your back, deepening your arch so that she can fuck into you further.

The room is filled with the sound of skin slapping skin, a headboard slamming into the wall, your moans and mewls, her grunts and groans. She had no shame in claiming what was hers.

She leans over, heavy breaths fanning your ear.

“Remind me who you belong to.”

Your eyes roll back in your head again, pussy clenching around her in response to the question. She delivers another slap to your ass.

“Speak when you are spoken to, girl.”

“Y-you!” you finally cry out. “I belong to you, I’m yours, ‘m all yours…”

She pulls back with a chuckle before pulling out of you, ripping the harness off of her waist and thighs. She crawls beside you, laying on back with her arms behind her head on the plush pillows.

“You know what to do. Put that pretty mouth to good use.”

You scramble to place yourself in between her legs and bury yourself into her sweet musk. Your tongue darts out to draw slow circles on her clit, nose resting on the mound of curls adorning her.

Her scent is intoxicating, her taste is ambrosia; you moan into her, and she moans back, hand flying to your head to keep you in place.

“Your fingers,” she instructs, and you slip into her, meeting no resistance. You lap at her eagerly, fingers pumping in and out in tandem with the flick of your tongue on her clit. It isn't long before her burly thighs tighten around your head, and her release coats your chin.

You pull away once she relaxes, staring down starry-eyed at the mess she's made.

“Have some decorum,” she scolds; but when your eyes snap up to her face, she sports that lazy grin you can't get enough of.

She beckons you to sit in between her legs, and you happily oblige with a chuckle. You lean against her strong chest, and she leans down to press a kiss against your temple. A comfortable silence settles over the room as her fingers trace up and down your arm.

“I'm aware that you had no true interest in that woman,” she says softly.

You hum in amusement.

“I’m also aware,” she continues, “That if you had been interested, it'd be none of my concern.”

You crane your head up to give her a confused look.

She shrugs. “You haven't been made mine. Not officially.”

You pause for a moment, reading her expression. If the longing you think you see in her eyes is really there, then it's about time you two had this conversation.

“I want to be yours,” you whisper. “If you'll have me.”

“Don't be ridiculous,”

and your heart drops, until,

“Of course, I'll have you. It'd be an honor to call you mine.”

A wide smile stretches across your face, and her large hand cups your cheek as she pulls you in for a kiss, tender and loving.

You pull away, lips still gracing her own.

“We’ll have to tell Mel…” you dare to whisper.

She scoffs, playfully rolling her eyes before her lips begin to trail down your jaw, your neck, your shoulder. She plants a hand on your thigh, grabbing at the plush before snaking it toward your heat.

“Let me give you one more before we think about that.”

──˚₊• 𝐄𝐍𝐃 •‧₊˚──

Taglist: @kierancaust, @langedelalune, @vii-v, @genderfluidlesbain999, @sevikasrightboob, @leone007, @femliyah, @tojisbestslut, @vyvvycg

#ambessa medarda #ambessa x reader #ambessa x you #ambessa x y/n #ambessa imagine #ambessa one shot #ambessa smut #ambessa arcane #arcane smut #arcane imagine #arcane one shot #wlw #sapphic #lesbian

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grotesquevi · 5 days ago

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18+ mdni, collage au, use of marijuana, high sex, blink and you'll miss perv!vi, you smoke while she eats you (feral), spit, stoner!vi that got out of hand. fic directory, requests?

if you recognize this it may be because it's from my previous account aka @vicorices who got deleted out of nowhere, i'm trying to get all my work back up again cause i'm not losing three months of writing. bare with me pls love me back this was good soup back then.

dealer!vi who’s deep down a damn loser when it comes to you, an unmeasured crush that started out when you bought weed for the first time and she got your number under the premise of talking to you whenever she had good stash.

she stares for a good while at her phone after, trying to find out a reason to talk to you without sounding lame, the last time she was so afraid to talk to a girl she was what? sixteen? so fucking lame.

dealer!vi who leaves in the middle of a party cause you texted asking is she was up and well, it's her fault when she's spoiling you rotten, constantly selling to you her very best stuff at a stupid low price: she wants you to keep coming to her, so she makes sure of making an undeniable offer.

she's knocking at your door and it's way to late to be in the streets, standing with her hands shoved inside her jacket as she waits for you to open up.

dealer!vi who's impressed actually by your rolling skills cause how the fuck did you learn how to roll a joint like that? you have such a good technique she finds herself looking at it, fingers in perfect control as they swiftly pour the green from your purple grinder into king-sized pink rolling papers — is it indirect kissing when you're licking the paper and she can visibly see strings of your saliva? must be.

she looks at you when you light up the joint and the air is quickly filled with the intense smell of weed, a subtle fruity and citric aroma as you passed her the joint. indirect kissing. indirect kissing when vi's smoking from the very same spot you did, sitting close to you after selling you a good amount of weed and accepting a sudden invitation to stay for a while and smoke, make the journey at least a bit more worth it and not leave after five minutes with you.

it doesn't have to be just pure business.

you're oblivious to it, but her gaze lingers in your legs and the subtle way your shirt rides up showing more and more skin without you noticing, worried you'll find out she's right there high and dry in your sofa.

stoner!vi who laughs at your jokes, leaning forward when talking to you cause even high she just thinks about how beautiful you are, eyes red, half lidded, relaxed in the comfortable of your small apartment close to the uni.

and like a good stoner she forgets about she's holding the joint at some point, too busy with the conversation, your company and the atmosphere you’ve so easily created, the ashes falling to the ground now. she has sold you marijuana for months, yet she's not able to talk to you for more than explaining you what strain she's carrying to sell until well — now.

liking your photos, flirting but not at all, it's absurd the amounts of times you appear on her mind without even trying to, messy haircut, she's sure you have a tattoo hidden under the winter clothes cause she can be a proud stoner, but she pays attention, at least when she wants something, when it comes to you.

"are you ever going to make a move on me, vi? cause i'm getting tired of waiting for you to snap out of it."

and maybe it's the weed, that dizzy and nice sensation on her chest that makes her smile, cause she's sure you're pulling her closer even when she's the one moving on her own.

"a move, you want me to make a move on you?"

you're taking the joint from her fingers and she swears it's the hottest thing she's ever experienced, the way you were suddenly so close to her only to pull away after, letting the smoke linger in the air when you light it again: she has felt that very same thing before, the awful need of pulling you into a kiss.

"i thought it was obvious when i texted you in the middle of the night, but you don't seem to get it much" the music seems to drown her unsteady breathing, the loud guitars by the speaker in the table while your bratty attitude only seems to turn her on even further. "should i spell it out for you? send a formal invitation?"

stoner!vi who's really bad in controlling her force when high, cause her hand fist in the fabric of your shirt and she's finally erasing the distance she was once polite to keep, moving you without much effort across the cushions to pull you closer to her, make you lay on the sofa to pin you down beneath her.

her muscles flex on top on you and she's finally aware of the effect she has on you, when she's finally kissing you and you're responding to her even when she barely touches you — so maybe it's not as lame as she thought, cause her kisses travels down your throat, messy, sloppy open-mouthed kisses she places as she holds you there, still and where she wants you to, not lame at all when you cannot control yourself either, squirming, already asking for more.

and fuck it's good. she can smell the subtle smell of weed in your clothes, and swear could choke 'cause you're parting your legs for her, a silent invitation she just gets with no need to spell it out for her now.

"gonna smoke it all by yourself?" vi's messing with you at first, watching you take the joint you forgot in your fingers to place it over your lips — "or are you gonna share that with me?"

stoner!vi who fantasizes with the thought of spitting right over your parted lips when she's helping you smoke, lighting up the joint as she sits on top of you. she's slower, but her hips press down against yours just right, and trapped in between her thighs is a damn sight. her blushed cheeks match her cherry hair who's much longer now since the first time you meet her, and you, a demon as always, let your hand find the skin beneath her shirt, the pad of your fingers roaming against her hip bone, trailing it down her pants.

with two fingers, she places the joint over your lips. your breathing collides against her hand, and she can feel the softness in your lips for a moment before you're blowing the smoke in her direction, slightly and for nothing more than five seconds but enough to make her think about kissing you again, yearning when she's stealing kiss after kiss, taking away the joint to have you pay attention to her instead. needy.

the weed makes her like that she'd say, but in reality vi's going to pieces even before her eyes become glassy. shambles when the music on the speaker is not enough to muffle your gasps, the irregular sound of your breathing after she slowly begins to ask you for more — hungry even when she's full fed.

she's building you up, taking her time since she dreamed about this a lot, and she desperately wants it to make it last, savor it as long as she can have it, so vi's dragging your shirt upwards, enough so she can see the obvious lack of a bra, latching on the skin of your breast until it's bruised and sensitive, purple because of her.

you do have a hidden tattoo, only for her to see.

yet it's her name on your swollen lips what she enjoys the most, how she's there in your lungs inside you, the sound of your moans when you ask if she could keep going. your always perfect hair lays now messy, and god she just want to imprint the sight of you in her brain, how your skin shiver when she's kissing the expanses of your belly, that flirty look on your face she can see even when she's completely on her knees for you already.

"you forgot about the joint again, peach" vi mutters against your navel, her chin presses against your stomach and the mere contact makes your skin burn "you okay up there? 'cause last time i recall i was invited to smoke with you love, you're making me feel a little betrayed here."

stoner!vi who likes the fact you're smoking from her weed. may seem stupid but she damn prides on knowing you choose her every time even when uni is fucking plagued with providers all around: you praise about her quality, chanting about how good your high was, how she never disappoints.

the world seems to stop against your skin, the time dies between your thighs, the intense smell of your arousal clouds her with longing and her mouth waters at the compulsion to lean forward.

"it's not fair, making me feel so- fuck so-" the words die on her tongue, cause your panties are soaked through, clinging to your folds and she's already drunk on it, lost in the haze as she looks up to you, barely illuminated by the lights in the apartment, the ember of the joint lighting every once in a while.

"talk to me," your voice is rough as your hand reaches down to her hair, taking the long strands of the mullet between your fingers — "how do i make you feel, huh? tell me vi."

stoner!vi who's a chaotic eater. she whimpers at your praises as her tongue laps from over your slick underwear, drool escaping from the corners of her mouth as her nose rubs against your sensitive cunt and she doesn't really care if she stinks like pussy after, if you're gushing all over her cheeks as she's making your underwear to the side; she's surrendering entirely, spreading you with her fingers and sinking her face in your puffy, swollen lips already sticky with a sheen of arousal.

she cannot seem to have enough, one arm tangled around your leg as she's comfortable enough to gather a good amount of saliva on her mouth so she can let it fall against your already leaky pussy, scooping it with her fingers to use it as lube when her digits are forcing themselves against your entrance, opening you up for her as vi's mouth sucks greedy around your clit.

so you forgot about the joint laying between your fingers as you hold her face against your sex, moving your hips against her mouth until she's looking at you through half lidded eyes and you can see how her face seems to glisten thanks to you. vi seems to be hitting all the nice places when her fingers scissor inside you, rubbing on your walls as you become pliant in her touch, inviting as you seem to suck her in deeper.

stoner!vi who pays attention, cause she's fixated in your face when you fall apart, dissolving into pleasure, splintering in lust for a brief moment she prolongs as much as it's possible, slowly pumping her fingers inside your tight entrance to keep seeing that pretty face all constricted in need, babbling about how good she's eating you, how full you are when her fingers fuck you dumb like that.

stoner!vi who shoves her fingers in your mouth right after fucking you, using her thumb to trace them along the seam at first, coaxing you to open them for her, pushing down on your tongue as soon as she's granted permission.

it's her turn to smoke now.

999 notes · View notes

soobsim · 14 days ago

Text

pretty thing c.yj

(um this one kinda wild, have fun tho)

summary: your rude roommate yeonjun is a faceless cam-content creator, who just happens to be your favourite one too. [DISCLAIMER: nsfw – minors dni, camboy-dom!yeonjun x fem!reader, masturbation, dubcon, degradation (and not just mild), reader tries to be bratty, big dick yeonjun, exhibitionism (sex on cam), choking/gagging, basically rough sex] wc: 2,559

m.list

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

you moved into the apartment almost a month ago, now sharing a space with a rather cocky man—choi yeonjun. he was walking seduction, either wearing low necks, or sleeveless tops, and a resting bitch face.

hell, he barely acknowledged your presence and if he did, it'd be to nag you.

yeonjun never even tried to gel up to you, he just accepted you as his new roommate and rolled with it. you know nothing about him, the mystery only adding up to his appeal.

all you knew about him is that he was a swimming coach, apparently. you're not even sure. he hardly ever talked to you, mostly locked inside his room when he wasn't at work.

oh, and he had made it known to you that his room was off-limits. "if you want to say anything, just text me. i don't want you knocking on my door." his exact words. he wouldn't be home all night during the weekends, you were somewhat convinced that he was a murderer, or did atleast something illegal.

this kept going for around five weeks, until one night yeonjun decided to come home for the weekend. and, since you were so used to spending weekends alone in the apartment, you did what you always did when alone.

your panties were pulled down to your ankles as you opened your phone and then twitter, heading straight to your usually preferred account.

yawnzzn.

he was an anonymous camboy, never showed his face or revealed his name and he never had to. his videos still blew up everytime. and, he had just posted a new one while you were out earlier. ofcourse, you had to watch it the moment you came home and found the apartment empty.

you clicked on his newest video, the thumbnail being a shot of his abs and him holding his huge cock. but this time, he had an underwear wrapped around it too.

that underwear...looked way too familiar as his long fingers held the maroon lace around his veiny length and rubbed himself against it.

you could hear the faintest groans leaving his mouth, watching how his hips bucked into his hands, the tip of his member red and glistening with precum.

your lips parted and you leaned your back against the bed's headboard, your free hand dipping between your legs and grazing over your bare and aroused clit. you bit your bottom lip, rubbing your bottom lip as you watched him stroke his length using the panties. which were so similar to the ones that disappeared from your laundry.

but you didn't pay attention to that, too distracted by the shudder running up your spine when you slipped a finger inside yourself, sighing at how easily it did.

you placed the phone down on the mattress, between your legs, using one hand to massage your clit and the other one to thrust into yourself. you added another finger, imagining it to be the cock on your screen, imagining his hand to be your walls.

a soft moan escaped your lips, your walls clenching around your two fingers as you played with yourself. you wished you knew his name, so you could moan it, because he sounded so hot everytime he sighed or moaned. it made your pussy tingle, only wishing that he was the one fucking you, not your fingers like every other weekend.

your stomach knotted when you heard him mumble a low, "fuck.." under his breathe. you closed your eyes, the sound echoing in your ears and almost making you come, before you heard a scoff from your room's door.

you froze, fingers stilling on your clit and inside you as you forced your eyes open. you hadn't bothered to lock your door, since you were home alone anyways, so...

it can't be, right?

you swallowed thickly and hesitantly turned your face to look at the door of your room, your heart dropping to your stomach when you saw your rommate standing there, leaning against the doorframe with a sinister smirk on his face.

yeonjun stared at you, not fazed when you look at him and freeze. "why stop, y/n? i was enjoying the show." he chuckled and stepped inside the room.

your heartbeat skyrocketed when he entered your room, your hands immediately leaving your body and locking your phone again. "yeonjun, what the fuck? y-you're such a creep." you panicked and sat up, reaching for the comforter to cover your body.

yeonjun caught a glance of your phone's screen before you turned it off, and his smirk only grew. his steps didn't stop, instead stopping your hands from reaching for the sheets. "that's rich, coming from someone who was touching themself to a random guy's video." he taunted and grabbed your hand, forcing it down between your legs again.

your eyes widened, body starting to tremble due to how embarrassed you're starting to feel. "i-"

"shh, no need to get all shy with me. not when i was the one you were masturbating to." his words made your throat go dry. no. you had to have heard it wrong, or this is just a dream.

yeonjun noticed your shock and it only amused him further as he pressed your fingers against your clit again, "what? you didn't realise that even after seeing the panties i used in that video?" he scoffed, watching how your body immediately shivered at the touch.

your brain was already in an overdrive and you could barely form words, let alone stop him. it made sense that the panties looked just like the ones that you couldn't find. they were yours.

"are you that dumb?" the mocking in his tone snapped you out of your headspace, staring up at him with your eyes still wide. he didn't stop there, guiding your finger back inside your already wet pussy, "or are you just a slut, who's only ever thinking about my cock?" his voice deepened.

it wasn't playful or teasing anymore, straight up cruel. a chill ran through your body when his darkened eyes met yours, his body now hovering above yours as he basically made you finger yourself.

you should be offended, you should push him off you, but you don't. instead, a whimper escapes your lips at his words. and, you hate yourself for it.

the fact that yeonjun is the man behind yawnzzn is more than your mind can comprehend at once. the man you've been living with, is the same man you've been getting yourself off to. and you didn't even know. it does make you feel stupid, and now you're trapped under yeonjun's body with his hand pumping your fingers in and out of you.

"hell, you're not even stopping me?" he laughed, the sound borderline evil as he observes you for a split second. "you are actually getting off on this, fucking slut."

yeonjun's words make your face grow hot, both in humiliation and excitement. "you..you're the one jerking yourself off on camera, so who's the slut here?" you don't know where you find the confidence, given the state you are currently in.

the words do happen to have the desired effect because yeonjun pauses, his gaze sharpening and jaw clenching before his lip twitches up.

he retreated his hands and took off his jacket, "yeah? well, let's find out, then." yeonjun challenged as he threw his jacket on your bedroom's floor and walked out without a word.

your brows furrowed when he left the bedroom without an explanation. was that it? what was he even doing?

your confusion didn't last long, since yeonjun walked back into your room holding a camera. if your eyes weren't already hard enough, they just grew wider.

you sat up and swallowed thickly, "i'm not putting myself on cam." you blurted, not even considering it once.

yeonjun didn't respond immediately, just glancing at you as he moved some settings around. "you're not gonna be on cam. just your cunt." he said it so casually and threw the camera on your bed, right beside you.

you licked your lips, "and, why would i agree to this?"

yeonjun grabbed the hem of his tshirt and pulled it over his head, the sight of his abs all to familiar from all his videos you've watched. "because you want me fuck you, y/n." he grinned, and it wasn't the nice kind.

your breathe faltered when he stepped close again, now standing at the edge of your bed, his hips leveling with your face and his infamously big dick straining his jeans.

"what makes you so sure, yeonjun? i didn't even know it was you behind the screen." you try to defend yourself, but that resolve weakens when yeonjun reaches to unzip his pants. you eyes dart down, your face right in front of his crotch.

yeonjun pulls out his cock from underneath his boxers, hard and flushed. "are we going to act like you weren't thinking about this when you were fucking yourself, just moments ago?" yeonjun grumbled and pressed the head against your lips. "now, stop acting like you don't want this and be a good slut." he ordered, grabbing a fistful of your hair.

your eyes flickered with an obvious sense of lust when yeonjun's manhood pressed against your lips and your lips parted instinctively, giving it an opening.

"see? your mouth knows how much of a whore you are." yeonjun chuckled mockingly, not hesitating to thrust his hips into your mouth.

a loud muffled moan left your throat, your jaw slacing to make room for him as yeonjun dragged himself out and back inside your mouth. "such a warm mouth, fuck. bet your hole's warmer, isn't it?" he hummed, fisting your hair and moving your head back and forth.

you looked up at him through your lashes, your cheeks hollowing and tongue wetting his length as he halted at the back of your throat. he wasn't moving fast, solely focusing on getting his dick lubed before he actually fucked you.

yeonjun looks down at you with eyes glazed in desire, "i don't plan on letting you suck my dick, but you look awfully good with your mouth stuffed." he scoffed, pushing himself back in one last time before pulling his cock out of your mouth.

your cheeks were flushed, a single string of saliva connecting your lips to his, now swollen head.

yeonjun grabbed you by the neck, pushing you down onto the mattress and climbing on top of you. he trailed his thumb over your lower lip, wiping the drool before pushing his index and middle finger inside your mouth. "but, that doesn't mean i can't keep your mouth full." he chuckled, his jeans and boxers now joining the clothes scattered on the floor.

you graoned around his fingers, feeling absolutely wasted at the way he was talking to you. looking at you. treating you.

his other hand grabbed his camera, angling it low enough to only capture you below your neck. "lift your tshirt." he ordered as he started the recording. "give them a good show, hm? you know i have a greedy audience." he cooed, nudging your thighs apart with his knee.

you stared up at him, then glancing at his camera recording you. your hands were shaky, but you complied, not sure exactly why you were into this. it was sickening.

you lifted your tshirt, settling it right above you bare tits. yeonjun exhaled a sharp breathe at the sight and sat on his haunches, positioning himself between your legs and keeping two of his fingers in your mouth for you to suck on.

your body tensed when he brushed his tip between your folds and groaned at how wet you still were. he lowered the camera, letting it capture how his cock pushed it's way inside your cunt. "fucking hell, you're so tight for someone who acts like a slut." he spoke lowly as he adds a third fingers into your mouth, pushing them in deeper.

your eyes fluttered shut and tongue slackened at the raw stimuli buzzing through your body. you whined, the sound muffled against yeonjun's fingers as he only entered you halfway before pulling out and slamming himself in.

his head fell back, his knees digging into the bed as he felt your walls closing around him. "fuck, baby, you might just be my favourite hole yet." he grunted, rocking his hips in a slow but harsh rythm.

he looked down at you with his own lips parted, watching your tits bounce everytime he thrusted in harder, watching your eyes grow glossy as he gagged you with his fingers before pulling them out.

you were a mess already, tightly clinging to his cock as he rammed into you, all while filming your pussy hungrily take him in entirely.

yeonjun wrapped his free hand around your neck, "you're letting yourself get fucked on cam too now. doesn't that make you slut too?" he taunts, punctuating it with another sharp thrust, deliciously abusing your g-spot.

your eyes rolled back, almost moaning out his name before he squeezed your neck tighter, signalling you to not say his name on cam. so, you simply moaned out a string of curses.

yeonjun held you down with one hand, the other one taping the moment to stay in his camera, and eventually on his cam account. "you were made for this, baby. look at how well you're taking me, just like my perfect little fucktoy." he laughed when you looked up at him with your eyes glistening.

his pace had fastened considerably since the first few thrusts, now driving into you mercilessly and tightening his grip around your neck. you could feel your breathe shortening, and your stomach twisting for the second time tonight.

you didn't say anything, not wanting your voice to end up on that side of the internet, except the lewd noises escaping your lips every now and then.

the sound of wet skin slapping against each other echoed through your room, recorded through and through on yeonjun's camera. you clenched around yeonjun's cock, and he could tell that you were close.

"yeah? gonna come? go ahead, show them how much your pussy is enjoying this." he teased as he thrusts himself deeper, making sure you really feel him inside you.

another, almost pathetic, whine errupting from your throat as you lathered his cock with your orgasm, your head thrown back into the pillows.

yeonjun groaned at the sight and feeling of the white, thick liquid coating his length as it disappeared between your legs with every thrust.

he knew he wouldn't last any longer either so he pulled himself out just in time, letting his cum spill all over your stomach and abdomen. your body trembled, jolts of pleasure still coursing through it as you both tried to come down from the high.

yeonjun stopped the recording and let the camera fall on the mattress beside you two, still seated between your legs. "you're just a natural at this. you'd make such a good pornstar." he mocked, pulling your leg to rest on his shoulder.

you had barely caught your breathe and he was already lining himself against your hole again.

"fuck, aren't you satisfied with one take?" you complained, though, it was half-hearted.

yeonjun chuckled, "that was for the recoding. this is for me, y/n."

___

(soooooo, how we feeling about this? it was better in my head i swear)

#yeonjun smut #yeonjun hard thoughts #yeonjun hard hours #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun x reader #txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt x reader #txt imagines #soobsim <3

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ttjisung · 3 months ago

Text

CANCUN p. jisung

richkid!park jisung x richkid!fem reader (e2l)

in which a trip to southern mexico along with your brother's obnoxious friend becomes more than you can handle when you both release your stress.

cw: MDNI! SMUT! (wc: 5.7k)

For the past week and half, you’ve woken up smiling with a pep in your step – it was finally summer! The only time available to feel somewhat happy as a college student had arrived, after months of long lectures and painfully boring labs, and you weren’t looking to waste it droning miserably around an isolated campus. The opportunity to travel was offered to you the second day of your break, in the form of a message from your brother, Chenle.

Yo. We’re hitting up the beach house in Cancun if you want to come. You can invite someone too, just let me know. Dad’s paying

Not even ten minutes later, you and Ningning were at the mall scouting for cute bikinis. Deciding on a light pink two piece with a flared miniskirt on the bottom, you didn’t bother looking at the price tag before passing it to the worker. Truth be told, you hadn’t looked at your bank account since you were allowed to get one. You knew it was always covered, and you had sworn to never be one of those rich kids who are ashamed of their wealth and call themselves “comfortable”. You figured if you could enjoy life and travel with your best friend every semester, why fight it?

“Lele better have gotten us each a first class window seat. If I get middle I will slice his throat.”

Ningning mindlessly nodded to your obnoxious complaints, holding her phone up high to record a pre-trip transition tiktok, not bothering turning her volume down as the noise rang out loudly. “-Ugh, and then he was like, you only get to check in two bags but like, Ning that’s so unfair. Like I need more so I can bring back gifts for the girls.” This time Ningning actually looked in your direction, voicing out a small mmm to let you know she agreed.

The both of you sported similar airport outfits – comfy pink sweatpants alongside a white shirt, the matching outfit a tribute you had planned for the trip. Chenle spotted you immediately, yelling out your name and throwing his hands up in the air. As your eyes locked, you rushed over, shoving your bags onto the bench and hugging him. “Ewww, get off me.” The attempted-sweet moment was tarnished as he pushed you off, deciding to not greet Ningning either.

Rolling your eyes at his annoying antics, you waved at his friends who were scattered along the same sitting area. Scanning their faces, you didn’t miss the way one particular friend didn’t wave back – Park Jisung, who for some reason swore you were his mortal enemy. He simply looked your way, scoffed, and pulled his phone out again. Your plans of slapping him and pulling him by the hair were interrupted as Jaemin, one of your brother’s nicer friends stepped in front of you, smiling widely.

“Little Zhong, it’s been so long. When’d we last see you?” “Umm… I don’t really… know.” He laughed, and you giggled along, engaging in small talk. Had Jaemin not been blocking you, you would’ve seen the way Jisung’s eyes squinted sharply at your direction, spanning between you and his friend quickly before averting his view.

After leaving your bags with your brother, you pulled Ningning along to go airport shopping. It was a higher end company, and of course you were part of the membership, meaning you all shared a private lounge. The company offered many stores for members only, ranging from Coach to Chanel, and that’s where you immediately headed together.

“I think I need a bag for the trip, I looked up the trends in South Mexico right now and my purse just isn’t aligning.” “Oh my God, same. I don’t know what I was thinking bringing that five month old red one, it would’ve been so embarrassing.” Your snobbish comments blended in with the echoes of older women who had access to the same membership, and after one hour of touching authentic leather clutches to Greek weaved trendy tote bags, you were finally satisfied with your three new bags (Nigning with her two).

The whole group decided to meet up an hour before necessary to sit together until the boarding time, an effort encouraged by Mark who said he ended up in a small bug-infested motel next to an airport once because he lost his group and missed his plane. That scenario being unironically your worst fear, you were quick to hop on board and agree, pulling Ningning by the hand to head towards their lounge.

Unsurprisingly, all of the others were gone, probably also shopping or stuffing their faces at the supreme sushi buffet, leaving you two alone. As the minutes passed by, you were starting to get annoyed, not wanting to end up in the small motel Mark described. “Ning, go look for anyone else. I’ll stay here.” “What the hell? Why do you get to stay here while I look?” “Umm, because one of us has to, dummy. Did you forget about like… bombs and stuff? Airport rules. Duh.” Rolling her eyes, Ningning crossed her arms and stormed off, muttering under her breath as she walked out of view.

You grinned as she was finally completely gone, pulling out a sleeping eye mask and moving onto the chaise lounge, on your back. A looming shadow was what woke you up, so intense you swear you could see it with your eyes closed. Pulling your eye mask up, you were awoken to the sight of Park Jisung hovering over your body on his knees, head over yours casting a shadow.

“What?”

The question made him scoff once more, looking away and shaking his head before simply getting up and walking away. “Hey! Don’t walk away! You were watching me sleep, creep.” You rushed to get up, fully discarding the mask and standing up to follow him around the medium-sized room. “Don’t flatter yourself,” his deeper voice rang out, continuing to walk away, “I was just checking cause Chenle asked me t-” He was interrupted as you finally caught up to him, holding his arm in your hand and tugging him around.

A swelling frustration built up in you as you saw his eyes, full of disinterest and boredom. It was one thing to bother you constantly, it was another to do so while feigning nonchalance. Somehow, your brother’s best friend had managed to get on every single nerve inside of your body, and you seriously began to worry about what would happen when your body would run out on the trip.

“Look, it’s already annoying enough that we have to be near each other these next three weeks. Can we please just avoid each other?” The truce you offered was your last hope, pleading at him in a desperate manner. Jisung looked away with a hand on his chin, as if to seriously think about what you requested, looking at you once again before his smile cracked, eyes squinted slightly as he shook his head, floppy bangs swaying side to side, “No.”

You huffed before letting go of his arm with a strong force, turning around and walking towards your new stack of bags, choosing one off the top to hold before attempting to storm off in the direction of Ningning. At this point you were seriously starting to consider cancelling the trip. You’d probably be able to convince your parents to send you two to France instead for the fourth time; yet one thing that your summer house in Cancun had that your three story, antique French apartment didn’t was Mango, the orange fat cat who resided on the property that you adored. Since you were a kid, you looked forward to every Spring break because it meant visiting Mango and sleeping on the beach with him under the hot Mexican Sun. Now though, it seems like he’ll have to be your distraction for Jisung’s aggravating antics.

If you had to pick one thing about the male that infuriated you the most, it’d be his hypocrisy. Even you admitted that you were spoiled, not defending yourself when the topic came up, yet Jisung wouldn’t miss a chance to look down at you in disapproval, acting like he was superior when he was the exact same thing as you – an entitled, superficial rich kid who ended up with everything he could dream of.

Ningning was paid for by your parents, but Chenle revealed to you through text that his friends provided for their own selves, using their supposed money that truly just came out of their parents pockets instead, including Jisung who never failed to remind you you were nothing but a product of wealth.

Although you had half a mind to curse him out, you were honestly tired and just wanted to find your best friend to complain to. Jisung had to ruin apparently every one of your plans as his larger hand wrapped around your shoulder, this time stopping you from marching away. “Wait, hold on. My bad, okay? I’ll agree with you,” his voice sounded smoother, more empathetic as he pulled you back near the couch he caught you sleeping on. “Really?” Your hope was restored as he nodded his head, “Yeah, on one condition.” “What would that be?”

Rather than answering you, he simply pushed you onto the seat, getting on his knees again and hovering in between your legs once more. You felt his breath on your face as he stopped, his eyes scanning your face before lowering to your lips. A grin grew on his mouth, though he tried to hide it by biting his own lip.

Without a warning, his hands moved to your shoulders, pulling you into him as he left a small peck to the corner of your mouth. Still in shock and confusion, you didn’t push him off which he took as encouragement to place another one on the other corner. Finally regaining your consciousness, you shrieked and pushed him away, looking at him with wide eyes.

“What the hell, Jisung? What is wrong with you?” The male rolled his eyes at your loudly yelled questions, leaning into your ear instead. “You can act like you haven’t felt any tension between us all you want, but I won’t let you ignore me this time.” He whispered, standing up on his feet and staring at your face before walking off to where his own bags were.

The rest of the hour was spent in the bathroom, frantically retelling the story to Ningning who was just as shocked as you were, yet according to her it was only a matter of time before that evil man tried something on you.

When you two rejoined the larger group to finally board, you were weirdly quiet, avoiding the stare of Jisung who was watching you intently. It was the first time he’d seen you so panicked, so distraught. It was then that he realized he really liked the feeling of having control over you. While he was smiling to himself, predicting what a great trip it would be, you were shivering in your seat, dreading what was yet to come.

All of your worries faded away as you stared at the green sign displayed above the road Chenle was driving on, Bienvenidos a Cancun. It had been a while since you were last here, the humid hot air and the bright sun almost unfamiliar to the point where it would’ve upset you. Unfortunately, your group was too large to commute together, so you split up into two groups.

You waved goodbye to Renjun, Haechan, Mark and Jeno at the airport parking lot, entering the backseat of a large black vehicle that adorned a sign with your last name on it, clearly dedicated to you and your brother. Jaemin sat next to Chenle in the passenger’s seat, leaving you sandwiched between Ningning and Jisung. Chenle insisted you’d sit there, saying your guest should have the window seat. You nearly choked him out through the console of the car.

Ningning was asleep in minutes, clearly jetlagged from the plane ride, the soft chattering coming from the front of the car probably lullaby-ing her into slumber. This left you awkwardly pressed to her side, trying your best to avoid contact with the male next to you who had been observing you ever since you all landed.

A bump came up ahead on the road, causing you to shift up slightly into the air, landing next to Jisung’s legs. Thanks to the microshorts you were wearing (curse the torturous summer weather), your bare thigh was pressing against Jisung’s choice of long jorts. The length of his attire stopped your skin from touching his, leading to a relieved sigh, yet it was interrupted by a heavy breath as he nonchalantly moved his closer hand towards your thigh, awkwardly placing it between yours and his.

Confused by his choice of placement, you were about to complain yet words no one would ever hear were caught in your throat as the car came into contact with another speed bump, this time lifting Jisung’s hand directly onto your bare, plush skin. “Hey! Take it off.” He simply shrugged at your whispered demand, “It’s the car, I can’t control it.”

The daggers in your eyes simply egged Jisung on as he lightly pinched your thigh, chuckling lightly to himself as you smacked his hand away finally.

Once the car ride was over and Ningning was shaken awake by your own hands, the two of you ran inside the large house, speeding into the hallway to choose your rooms first. You settled for one of the two rooms on the second story, opting for the one with a balcony facing the blue crystal water of the beach. Ningning ended up on the first story in the room closest to the indoor pool, yelling something about her daily morning laps.

One by one, Chenle along with his friend group entered the large house, claiming their own territory quickly. Jeno, Haechan and Jaemin decided to stay in the rooms in the basement, and a large part of you believed it was due to the theater room that had a PS5 connected to a surround-sound speaker system. Mark took the room next to Ningning, the two of them bonding over their swimming exercise routine. Renjun took the room furthest into the hallway, followed by Chenle who chose the one in between his and Mark’s.

It was a pure coincidence that Jisung ended up residing in the last room available, upstairs and right next to yours. You hadn’t even realized it was him until he knocked on your door, pushing it open before you could say anything and leaning on the frame.

“There is no way you’re next to me. Switch rooms with someone now!” Your words were pointed and firm, suddenly covered in the confidence you lacked at the airport as you stood up, throwing your unpacked clothing onto the king sized bed. Jisung simply snickered to himself, “It’s cute that you think that’s up to you to decide. I’m comfy here though, and I already unpacked so no can do, sorry.” “Why do you enjoy making my life a living hell?” “Because it’s funny.” His responses only angered you further, causing you to stand up and slam the door on his face.

Choosing a better method to unwind than yelling in your brother’s best friend’s face, you put on a cute bikini with a lace cover-up, rushing out into the hallway when the coast was clear and heading towards Ningning’s room, who was also already unpacked and dressed in a cute sundress.

No words were exchanged as you two ran through the back door onto the beach, giggling with each other as your feet met the warm sand. Ningning placed her tote bag down near the water, laying down two towels and sitting on one of them.

It was no surprise when you heard the shouts of the rest of the group, each male running towards the beach as well. They all placed their miscellaneous beach items next to you, not bothering to place down a towel and simply sitting in the warm sand in a circle.

Truthfully, you were already sick of the overwhelming testosterone that engulfed you both, and apparently your best friend was as well as she shouted out a challenge, “Last one to dive into the water has to do everybody else’s laundry.” Ignoring the fact that your vacation home came accompanied with a house maid, which of course it did, the large majority of the men stood up, racing through the sand until you could barely see their heads in the water.

Three stayed back – Jaemin, Jisung and Renjun. The last had already occupied himself with a book in his hand, laying on his stomach on his towel (he was the only one that brought one out of all of his friends). Jisung was simply staring at you with a blank expression, causing you to roll your eyes and look away. He momentarily looked away as well, although your next words pulled his attention back quickly. “Jaems, can you help me put some sunscreen on?” The older male next to you nodded, smiling and grabbing the bottle from your hand. He shifted so that your back would be facing him, squirting out a generous amount of the lotion before nudging your hair aside, spreading it onto the back of your neck first.

His hands roamed towards the small of your back, spreading the lotion all over you before gently rubbing it in with his palms. Soft sighs escaped from your mouth, your eyes closed as you leaned into his hands that were essentially massaging you.

Jisung was annoyed. It was one thing when you provoked him specifically, but to display your content sighs so loudly was another. He’s not sure why the sight of his close friend’s large hands running up your hips, under your arms, everywhere, had him so riled up. It couldn’t be jealousy – you were the most infuriating person he knew, yet as he quickly stood up, rushing over to the water, it was clear that he was more bothered than he let off.

Soon enough, the hot sun faded out into a serene, dark sky, and the group had once again returned to the house momentarily. Tired from several hours of messing around in the water, Chenle announced that he would order food. It was Ningning’s suggestion that they eat it on the beach chairs settled right outside of the house, under the balcony of your room. Although you hadn’t swam as much as the others, you were honestly tired of the socialization and chose to head to your room instead. Jisung was confused – and maybe even disappointed – when he noticed you weren’t outside with the rest, deciding he’d check in on you (and aggravate you a bit more).

His long legs carried him upstairs, leading him to the familiar door of your room that was slightly ajar. Inside, you laid on the bed, scrolling mindlessly on your phone. His grin grew, the palm of his hand pushing harshly onto the door until it opened completely.

Your eyes were quick to look up at the source of the noise, rolling once you realized it was Jisung. “What is it now?” “Nothing, can’t a guy just want to hang out with his dear friend?” Your nose scrunched up as his response, “I’m not your friend, you’ve made it clear with your relentless bullying all of these years.” He pushed himself off of the door frame and into your room, stepping until he was right next to your bed, standing still next to your laying body.

“C’mon, I’m not that bad.” He joked, hoping you didn’t catch the way his eyes roamed down your barely clothed stomach to your smooth legs. You did catch it, yet refused to mention it in fear of a scenario like the one in the lounge repeating. “Look, come here.” He leaned down, grabbing your hand in his and pulling until you were unwillingly sitting on the bed. He didn’t stop until you were completely off of the mattress, dragging you towards the open doors that led to your balcony.

You could hear the buzz from below it, belonging to the large group eating some authentic tacos that costed a hundred pesos each. Jisung stopped once you both were fully outside, and you stared up at him, confused by his actions.

He caught your gaze, smirking down at you before lifting a finger to his lips, as if to motion you to be quiet. That confused you even more, you weren’t even being loud?

You suppose his next actions explained his weird antics as he flipped you to lean against the railing of the balcony, your nearly-naked back now facing his clothed chest as you were forced to look out towards the beach. He used the hands he flipped you with to hold onto both of your hips, pushing you flush against him and placing his head on your shoulder, almost looking down at the crowd from behind you.

“They look so busy, hmm?” You squinted your eyes at his question, wondering why he even cared. “I mean, I guess so…” “Would truly be a shame if they were to look up and see us right now, right?” You tried to tilt your head to look at him, yet he took one of his hands and placed it on the back of your neck, forcing you to look down. “We aren’t doing anything… so not really.” You wish you could ignore the way the laugh he let out didn’t run straight to your core, yet it was hard as his grip on you grew, pulling your body closer into his until you felt the pressure of his hands build up.

You jumped at the feeling of his hand leaving your hip, instead roaming towards the end of your ruffled bikini bottom. Nothing could hide the small gasp that released from your mouth as it snaked over towards the front of your body, slowly lowering itself until he was fully covering your clothed core. “Shh, don’t want them to hear, do you?” The small twinge of pleasure along with the ache building inside of you blinded you to the small smirk heard in his voice.

His voice was muffled with your hair as he pushed his face closer to you, his breath evident against your ear as the grip in his other hand grew, applying more pressure to the base of your neck.

His long fingers were now gently rubbing you through the material of your bikini, ever so slightly moving until they met your clothed clit. Your breathing grew heavier, knuckles turning white as you held onto the railing, praying that the dark sky covered the possible view your friends had downstairs. The view of Jisung’s hand finally pulling the fabric aside, fingers gliding against the slick that had built up from his actions. A small moan was muffled by his other hand that moved from your neck to your mouth, now confidently rolling your sensitive clit with his thumb as two of his fingers drifted lower, slowly but surely finding their way inside of you.

You had truly underestimated the size of Jisung’s hands as he built up his pace, thrusting the two fingers in and out. It was only when you felt an unfamiliar, cold sensation that you realized he had left a ring on one of them – probably the friendship ring Chenle forced all of them to buy and wear.

His breathing grew as a reaction to the way your body instinctively bucked against his, your ass now pressed against his painful erection. He lightly whined into your shoulder, increasing the speed at which he moved his fingers inside of you, hoping you’d continue to build the friction between the two of you.

Your moans quickened as well, fading to breathless gasps as the cold of his jewelry met with the warmth of your walls, leaving you a mess at his mercy. Just as you continued to press into him, craving more than just his long curved fingers, you heard a voice from below. “Should we go check in on Ji and N/n?”

Curse Jaemin and his thoughtful concern, you began to pull away from Jisung, afraid of getting caught. What you hadn’t expected was for Jisung to push back into you, the hand that had covered your mouth now holding your hips, bucking his own to the fast pace he set, desperately searching for release as his fingers continued to bully their way inside of you.

“Ji… Jisung, stop! They’ll… Th- They’ll catch us…” You struggled to let your words out, growing desperate as well, his fingers reaching so deep inside of you that you felt like you were going to pass out from the pleasure. The added danger of knowing you might get walked into was your final push as your mouth released a final whine, folding against the railing you held onto as you attempted to catch your breath.

Jisung was too focused to stop, continuing to rut into you, his fingers sliding out and moving towards his mouth instead. He lifted his head off your neck to suck onto them, swirling his tongue to fully enjoy the taste of you. Without a warning, and quite frankly ignoring your pleas of overstimulation, he thrusted his covered bulge into you once more, groaning into his own fingers as he came in his shorts.

He stood against you for a minute, the two of you catching your breath and attempting to process what just happened, yet the sound of several footsteps rushing up the stairs and near your doorway had you pushing him away, running into your room and picking up the closest pair of pants to put on.

Ningning’s eyebrow was raised when she stepped into your room, suspiciously locking eyes with you before looking at Jisung, continuing to observe the two of you harshly. Your heart beating almost covered the noise of Chenle, who was demanding you and Jisung to join them all downstairs to bond. Wanting to escape the heavy atmosphere hanging around you two after what had just happened, you were quick to agree, running down the stairs and out the door.

The morning after came soon, the bright sunlight that poured into your room waking you up from a scandalous dream about Jisung that you would never share with anyone. You were so embarrassed – you were supposed to be the one to bitch Jisung, not the other way around, so to admit that you came on his fingers, more importantly that you enjoyed it, proved difficult.

Both Ningning and Jisung stared at you weirdly as you announced you felt sick, therefore you would not be able to join them on their trip to the cenotes. You refused to lock eyes with either of them when you rushed back up the stairs, slamming your door behind you.

You spent the day lazily relaxing on the beach alone, sipping on several glasses of agua de horchata with an audible book blasting through your Airpods Max. Your peace was only disturbed once the sun began to set, and a hand was placed onto your bare shoulder. You recognized the large hand, unfortunately too familiar.

“Was it that bad that you had to avoid us all?” Jisung’s deep voice rang out, his body finally coming into view as he sat next to you. It took everything in you to not stare at his upper body, now bare as a result of the adventures the group went on. You shrugged his hand off, shaking your head and looking off towards the water as you took your headphones off, placing them on your bag. “No.” “Then why did you magically get sick this morning? Scared I would harass you in front of your brother too?” You didn’t want to admit that it was true, but harass wasn’t the term you’d use, considering you woke up wet and reminiscing the feeling of him thrusting into you.

You just shrugged, causing Jisung to frown at your lack of rebuttal. It was only fun when you played along.

He let out a hum of disapproval, staring at you like he found himself doing a lot on this trip. Finally finding the courage to look at him, your eyes locked, and it was then that Jisung really noticed how pretty you looked under the dim sky. He hesitantly placed a hand on your slightly sunburnt face, cupping your cheek and looking down at your lips.

You looked down at his lips too, admiring how plump they were – you had never taken your time to appreciate how pretty he was as well, too focused on his annoying insults and teasing. You both leaned in slowly until there was no space left in between you, mouths finally meeting. It was slow at first, hesitant and almost innocent, yet something unleashed inside Jisung as he heard you sigh into the kiss. It reminded him of the noises he pulled out of you the night before, suddenly feeling desperate.

He was the first to assert control, placing his other hand on your face as well and pulling you into him, devouring your lips and pushing against them with his tongue, demanding you to let it meet yours. You complied, sick of acting like you ever wanted control over Jisung. You never actually cared for it, you just liked trying to push him over the edge, which you appeared to succeed in as his breathing quickened. Your tongues met, the kiss turning messy. He could taste the sweet drink off of your spit as he let go of your face, instead moving you until you were laying against the soft sand, his body hovering over yours.

Jisung used both his arms to keep him on top of you as you moved yours down, palming him through the blue swimming shorts he chose to wear. The feeling of your smaller hand making contact with his clothed dick had him swelling up, growing needier and needier until he couldn’t take it.

He pushed himself up onto his knees, looking down at you as his hands roamed to your small bikini bottoms – smaller than the ones yesterday, you knew what you were doing to him. You propped yourself up on your elbows, ignoring the slight sting of the sand grains digging into your arms as you watched him bite his lip before finally pulling the bottoms off of your legs.

He groaned at the sight of your bare core, glistening against the dim lighting of the moon. He was quick to follow, desperately pulling off his own shorts, leaving him completely bare. The only clothing that remained on either of you was your bikini top, yet it didn’t last long before Jisung ripped it off, ignoring your small noise of complaint as the fabric tore off of you. He leaned over you again, struggling to ignore the feeling of your slick cunt meeting his hard-on.

Finally, you were both completely naked, left with no distractions. Jisung kissed you again, closing his eyes and melting into the feeling as your hand snaked down. He let out a hiss as you held onto his sensitive dick, guiding it lower until he felt your hole. Giving a few small thrusts against the slit of your pussy, he finally sank in with no warning, moaning at the way you immediately clenched around him. You were no better, eyes widening as you felt the stretch inside of you. Yes, it might’ve been Jisung’s personal goal to annoy you to no end, yet he had enough mercy to give you time to adjust. It might’ve slipped from your mind, yet Jisung was very focused on your facial expressions when he got rid of your clothes, noticing how shocked you appeared to be from the size of his length. He always knew he was on the bigger end, yet his ego continued to inflate as you struggled to take him fully. With his newfound confidence, and your small encouraging nod, he began to move, finding a rhythm as he thrusted into you, pushing you further into the bed of sand under your bodies.

Your hands found his back, scratching down his built muscles as you fought to get used to him. He moved one of his hands that was holding him up, causing him to shift deeper into you accidentally (yet you weren’t one to complain as the new angle pulled an embarrassingly loud noise from you). His now-free hand slid down your body, stopping at your boobs to tease you a bit, groping the soft flesh before continuing down until he met your clit.

The way Jisung played with the bundle of nerves alleviated the pain in you, now shifting into pleasure as he pushed into you with a renowned force. “Tell me how it feels, baby.” He whispered into your ear, begging to hear your voice. “S-so good, Ji. Need more, please…” Deciding to not tease you for the first time in his life, he complied, thrusting into you harder, the speed of his fingers on your clit increasing until you were a mess under his body, crying out at the combined stimulation.

The sound of the waves crashing onto the shore, alongside the reflection of the moon on the water encompassed you both as your passion took over, grinding down to meet his thrusts with fervor. You finally caved when his mouth met your neck, sucking harshly in hopes of marking you up. You reached your climax, riding it out as Jisung continued to thrust into you. “Where do you want me?” “Inside… Please.” He simply nodded, his movements growing sloppier as he sheathed himself into you fully, searching for his own release.

You decided to mirror his actions, lifting your head to kiss his neck, and that was enough to make him finish, his cum gushing inside of you, dripping out lightly as he reluctantly pulled out. As you looked over at Jisung who now laid next to you in the sand, you thought that maybe this trip wouldn’t be so bad after all. It wasn’t until he looked at you, basking in your satisfied afterglow that he leaned in, holding your neck with his hand and pulling you into another heated kiss, this time pulling you on top of him, that you realized you had to plan a very long debrief with both Ningning and Mango tomorrow morning.

a/n: is it obvious i'm mexican and this is slightly self indulgent. psa if youre paying more than twenty pesos for a taco its probably not an authentic one :/ this is the longest fic i've ever written to celebrate the very special occasion. park jisung day. ^_^

#nct x reader #nct #nct dream #nct dream x reader #park jisung #park jisung x reader #jisung x reader #park jisung smut #jisung smut #nct smut #nct dream smut

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nothoughtsjustfic · 3 months ago

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Finding Yourself - C.SC [Part 1]

🐢Who: Choi Seungcheol (Seventeen) x female reader 🐢What: 18+. Dark themes. Mafia au. Angst. Fluff. Suggestive. Slow burn. Mafia Boss Seungcheol. Single parent Seungcheol. Strangers to friends to lovers. Chan is reader’s little brother. Hansol is Seungcheol’s son. 🐢Word count: 15.5k 🐢Warnings: Characters with autism/ADHD. Selective mutism. Mentions and depictions of being overwhelmed/sensory overload and meltdowns. Off screen gang violence including gun use. Implied intention of non-con in discussion. Mentions of skipping meals/poor diet/nutrition. Mentions of past child abuse/abusive parents. Homelessness due to running away and associated issues; lack of money/food/water etc. Mentions of past forced sex work. 🐢Summary:“In an attempt to protect your little brother, you run away from home and the gang your father forced you into as a teenager.

You truly thought you were done with that life. But months later, when members of the Centaurs gang find you and your brother squatting in their property mid gang-fight, they take you back to their headquarters and force you right back into it.

Suddenly, you find yourself living in the home of the leader of the oldest, most famous gang in the entire country, and you very quickly realise that he isn’t the ruthless monster everyone thinks he is.”

Minors do NOT interact, which means reblogging and/or commenting on this story. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in their bio.

Masterlist Finding Yourself Part 2 – Finding Yourself Part 3

Disclaimer: Okay, so I feel like I need to point out that I do have both autism and ADHD, and I have done a lot of research around both during my own discovery/diagnosis periods; even now I’m constantly learning that more aspects of myself are very common in people with autism/ADHD so there is truth behind how the characters are portrayed in this fic. Yet, with that being said, both autism and ADHD are very vast in that you can have a room full of people with both disabilities and yet every single one of those people are incredibly different, which means that the characters in this story who have autism or ADHD are not accurate portrayals of every single person with either. There are 4 clearly stated autistic people in this fic throughout and they are each different personalities and how their disability affects them. So please don’t leave comments or send rude asks accusing me of misrepresentation or anything like that just because a character you’ve watched in a movie isn’t written the same as these characters, thanks.

Tears. It’s always tears when you need silence. When you’re trying to sleep. When you’re trying to keep you both safe. It’s always tears.

“Shhh, Channie, shhh, it’s okay,” you try to soothe your little brother through a sensory meltdown that was triggered minutes ago by the overwhelming noises of yelling and gunfire echoing deafeningly around the warehouse.

You thought it would be safe here. The place seemed abandoned, yet secure, with no broken windows to let in the breeze, nor any sign of recent human activity, only some stray animals and their leavings. But it was the best shot you had, and for almost a week, it had been a little slice of dirty haven for you and Chan.

Then, less than twenty minutes ago, you heard multiple cars pull up outside of the dusty warehouse and then footsteps entered the building. You had curled up protectively around your brother in the corner of a room, hidden by the shadows as the newcomers swept through the warehouse for any signs of life. Somehow they entirely missed the two of you, and you were so grateful for it, even if you remained in place, holding your brother in the shadows for a little longer, just in case.

But now, whatever meeting is happening has gone awry and the ear-splitting sounds have set off your five-year-old brother. Although you want to curl up into a tiny ball and cry too as the sounds assault your own senses, you can’t; your meltdown will have to wait until you’re both safe again.

Which won’t happen if Chan doesn’t stop screaming and thrashing, kicking out while also trying to burrow himself right into your chest to try and block the noises and gain comfort from the only person who has shown him any in a long time.

Though, there’s only so much you can do, only so much your hands pressed over his own on his ears do to block the sensory overload when you can feel the noise in your own chest, and you know that Chan has always been much more sensitive about such things.

You wish you have a pair of ear defenders for him, but your father never believed in them and Chan’s mother was perhaps even worse where caring about the poor boy was concerned, so he was never given the tools needed to support him. And your limited finances upon running away with your little brother have gone to keeping him fed and as warm as possible. There have been no spare pennies for such things, even with you skipping meals and sacrificing supplies for yourself in order to protect your brother.

All you can do is hope that it will be over soon and the gangsters, who have intruded upon your safe space, will rapidly leave without hearing Chan’s shrieking.

Of course, with your luck today, it doesn’t go how you hope.

Even before the yelling and gunfire has ceased, the door swings open and a couple of men enter with guns raised. It’s easy for them to locate you with Chan still screaming and kicking out at everything he can reach.

“What do we have here?” The slighter shorter of the two men smirks while eyeing you and your brother as the pair stop too close for comfort, yet still far enough away that your brother’s thrashing doesn’t reach them.

“Something pretty, and something pretty fucking annoying,” the other man retorts, making the first guffaw while you continue to try to soothe Chan and keep him still without removing your eyes from the dangerous men. “Think we got time to take turns?”

“Nah, even if we did, I won’t be able to enjoy it with the little shit screaming like that.”

“Knock him out.”

“Don’t even joke about hurting a kid ‘round here,” the shorter man warns, giving his partner a firm look. “Boss would kill you slowly if word got back to him. You know he’s protective of kids.”

“Then what the fuck do we do? We can’t kill the bitch either because he don’t like kids left behind, and I’m pretty sure we’re fucked if they find out we left them here.”

The two men stare at you and Chan in careful consideration for almost a full minute.

The answer only comes when the gunfire finally ceases, even if Chan doesn’t stop screaming yet. “We’ll have to take them with us.”

As much as you’d rather not go along with the two men, or the dozen or so other men with them, you know you don’t have a choice. If it’s only you who you have to worry about, you’d have already risked sneaking out while the showdown was in progress, but with Chan to consider, you can’t risk the gunfire being turned on you.

So, when the pair stalk you out of the safety of the room with Chan still wailing against your chest as you carry him, though luckily he’s now clinging to you and not wildly thrashing, and a gun pressed to your back, you go while mourning the items you’ve lost due to not being able to pack up anything. The men had only hovered long enough to let you pick up Chan and grab your backpacks.

Up until you’re in the car with another man sliding into the seat to your left while looking bewildered, you have no idea who these gangsters are, but this new man has his arms on show despite the cold weather and the centaur tattoo on his right bicep stares at you mockingly.

Today really isn’t your lucky day.

“What’s this?” He demands, almost glaring at the two men in the front of the car while motioning vaguely to you and your little brother.

“Found them in a room, kid was screaming the place down, this is quiet for him,” the driver, the shorter of the pair, replies, tone almost polite now and you can safely guess that this tall, muscled man is a much higher rank than them. “Didn’t know what to do with them considering the rules about kids and everything.”

“So, you decided to completely bypass me and make a decision on your own?” The tall man asks, now closing the car door behind him and reaching for his seatbelt, yet he stops and motions to the space between you two. “Put him there so he can be strapped in,” he says to you, already grabbing the seatbelt for the middle seat ready to pull over.

“What?” You mutter dumbly.

“This car isn’t going anywhere until we’re all strapped in securely and it’s unsafe for a child to be strapped in on your lap. Put him here so he can be safe between us, I’ll keep my arm in front of him so he can’t fall.”

“He can sit next to the door,” you reply and start to move over into the centre yourself, but the man makes a dismissive noise and shakes his head.

“No, if that door gets rammed, he’ll get seriously injured; he should go in the middle, so our bodies protect him.”

“How likely is it that we’ll get rammed?”

“More likely than you realise, especially if the ones we just met have back up waiting down the way.”

“Then just let us go.”

He sighs. “I wish I could, seriously, I don’t want to endanger your son, but those idiots are right in that leaving you is a bad idea, we can’t trust you. So, either you willingly put him down or I move him myself and I think that would just make him more upset.”

For a few seconds, you do nothing but stare at the man, hoping that he’ll suddenly decide to trust a complete stranger and let you go, but he doesn’t, and you reluctantly adjust Chan to sit him at your left side between the two of you.

“It’s okay, I’m right here,” you whisper as you press down on his legs to stop him from trying to climb onto your lap again. “I’m not leaving, we just need to strap in, okay? We’re going to strap in and go for a drive, okay, Squirt?”

Silently, the man manoeuvres the safety belt across Chan’s body and clicks it into place as you continue to soothe your little brother. Then, the man reaches over even further to plug your seat belt in before finishing with his own and kicking the back of the driver’s seat lightly to prompt him to start the car.

Thankfully, Chan calms down once the car is in motion and you’ve pulled out his comfort turtle plushie for him to squeeze to his chest repeatedly.

You know the man on Chan’s left is watching your brother as he almost hurts himself with the toy, but you don’t care, all you care about is that Chan’s self-soothing is working and isn’t hurting him. The man can think whatever he wants.

The location you’re taken to isn’t one you’ve ever been to before, yet nobody needs to speak the name for you to know that this large, sprawling estate fortified with three sets of tall gates and walls, plus guards, is the base of the Centaurs, the oldest still running gang in the country.

The whereabouts of the estate isn’t a secret, it’s easy information to get, but due to the sheer size of the gang and their legendary skills, especially of the leaders and head family, not even the authorities are brave enough to launch an attack. Though some over-cocky gangs have been dumb enough to try over the years and inevitably failed without making it past even the first wall.

The place truly is one of the most secure places in the entire country. It almost puts military compounds to shame with the levels of security covering the sprawling grounds.

It feels more like a village based on how long you remain in the car once past the first two sets of gates, and all the buildings and people you pass on the gravel roads.

Then, when the final wall is in view, you’re moved into another car, with only the tall man joining you after he’s talked to another man a little shorter than himself. The tall man doesn’t say a word once he’s in the driver’s seat after making sure you and Chan are strapped in, before driving further forward along the gravel roads and through the final gates.

Finally, you see the impressive, impeccably well-kept, grand building that is Choi Manor where it sits pride of place in the very centre of the estate, behind all three walls.

There are nowhere near as many people wandering around now. It seems more like you only see groundsmen maintaining all the greenery and plant life, turning the area within the final wall into something almost out of a fairy tale. It’s truly beautiful.

Chan peers out of the window as best as he can when he can barely see over the edge of the door, with his wide, red rimmed eyes staring at all the colours of the flowers and fruits in awe. He’s never seen so many different plants in one place, in fact, you would even go as far as to say he’s never seen so many plants full stop.

Your own family home was never this natural; your father preferred to do away with nature to save the hassle of having to have people tend to it. The closest was the greenhouse your father let you keep for yourself for a few years before Chan was even born, until your father’s new wife destroyed it in a jealous fit when he didn’t buy her the car she wanted. Never mind the fact that she never learned to drive.

“Okay, so, a few things,” the tall man states when he parks the car beside a handful of other similar cars in front of the extravagant home. He turns off the engine and unplugs his seatbelt so that he can turn around in his seat to face you directly. “The boss isn’t home right now and won’t be until late, and I obviously can’t let you wander around unattended, so you’re going to be locked in one of the guest rooms with someone outside your door until the boss is back and decides what to do next. Understood?” You just nod.

Honestly, it’s a lot better than expected; you assumed you’d be locked up in a storage room or something equally as unwelcoming, not a guest bedroom of the most lavish home you’ve ever seen outside of movies and TV shows.

“Make sure you both shower and dress in clean clothes before the boss is back, you don’t want to meet him dirty. And eat, I guess you haven’t eaten in a while, right? You look skinny. I’ll get some food sent up. Does he like nuggets?” He motions vaguely to Chan.

“Nuggets?”

“Yeah, chicken nuggets. I think there’s some animal shapes, but they may be all gone; we don’t get groceries in until tomorrow.”

“Uh… he’s never had them.”

“What?” The man sputters in disbelief. “What kid has never had animal nuggets?! I’ll send out for some if we don’t have any. It’s a crime you’ve never fed your son animal nuggets, seriously.”

Despite this being the second time that he’s assumed Chan to be your son, you don’t correct him; you’re too caught up on other things to care to put the relationship between you straight. “Why would you assume I have access to things like that when we were sleeping in what I thought was an abandoned warehouse?”

“Oh…right, sorry, wasn’t thinking.” He gives you an awkward, apologetic smile before climbing out of the car.

He leaves you to unplug yourself and Chan at your own pace and climb out of the car to join him on the white gravel. Chan is immediately taken by the sound and shuffles on his feet to hear the clacking and grinding under his boots.

When you look up, you expect to see the man about to urge you on, however, he’s simply watching Chan with his head tilted a little, curious, and with the slight hint of a smile on his lips.

Surprising you further, the man patiently waits until Chan is satisfied and takes your offered hand to quietly and closely toddle alongside you behind the stranger into the huge house.

“Sorry, there’s no kid size guest slippers,” the man apologises as he puts down a pair of adult guest slippers from a section of the unit beside the shoe rack, which you don’t really pay any attention to as you’re too busy trying to remove both yours and Chan’s boots to not dirty the perfectly polished marble flooring.

Though you can’t say either of your socks are in much better condition than the soles of your shoes and embarrassedly shove your feet into the slippers before your filthy, hole-riddled socks can be seen. At least Chan’s socks are new, if dirty. Still, you pick him up quickly and hope the man hasn’t noticed the condition of your brother’s socks.

“This way.”

Quietly, you follow the man down the hall and stand outside of a room when he motions you to, allowing him to step inside alone. You hear him talking to another man in low voices for a moment, then he reappears with a slim man who is barely shorter than him, though you think if the first didn’t slouch so much he’d be even taller.

“Hello, I’m Junhui,” the new man greets you with a friendly smile, entirely throwing you off with his open, welcoming aura. “I’m the house chef so I need to know if you or your son have any allergies or dietary requirements so that I can prepare you something delicious!”

“Uhm, no allergies,” you reply and adjust Chan in your hold; he’s too big for you to easily hold him for prolonged periods now so you need to alter his place against your chest fairly frequently in order to keep supporting his weight.

Some months back, you could’ve carried him for extended lengths of time, and you often used to indulge him whenever he asked, regularly carrying him around on your back as you went about your daily life, so long as it was appropriate. But that was then; so much has changed since. Some days you can barely even hold your own body up, let alone his.

“And requirements? For any reason: belief or preference, I need to know,” the cook continues with genuine interest.

“He’s very particular about his food,” you admit and tilt your head towards Chan a little as if they won’t realise that you’re talking about him. “The plainer the better really.”

“Oh, we have one like that already,” Junhui chuckles and flaps a hand almost dismissively as if it’s nothing. “I can handle that no problem! How old is he? I need to know what portion sizes.”

“Five, almost six, but he’s never had a big appetite.”

“Oh!” Junhui and the tall man both look astonished at the information, with matching raised eyebrows and slightly widened eyes. “Perhaps that’s why he’s so small! I thought he’s more like three going on four! I’ll try to make accordingly, but if he’s still hungry, you get a message to me, and I’ll bring more; we can’t let the kids go hungry! Or mama, what about your diet?”

“Oh, uhm, don’t worry,” you try to dismiss the concern, and both men instantly look at you sternly.

“What do you eat, ma’am?” Junhui repeats firmly. “Do you have allergies?” You shake your head silently in response. “What do you usually eat?”

“Whatever he doesn’t finish,” you answer meekly, embarrassed to admit to your inability to afford to feed yourself.

But it seems as if the kind chef doesn’t quite understand. “Okay, and what else?”

“Jun,” the tall man murmurs, gently tapping the other with the back of his fingers. Junhui looks at him and the pair exchange some barely-there expressions, which you don’t have the mental energy to even try to discern the meanings of, before they both look at you and there’s now something you think must be sympathy in the cook’s eyes.

“Oh, right. Uhm, well, what do you like? I can make almost anything!” He offers, brightening back up out of his slightly awkward understanding.

“It’s okay.”

“Please just tell him what you enjoy eating so I can show you to your room,” the tall man pleads. “He’ll make us stand here all afternoon and night if you don’t.”

“I’m just grateful you’re feeding him,” you assure.

“If you don’t tell me what you enjoy eating, ma’am, I will send dish after dish to your room until one comes back empty,” Junhui warns, and something about this man tells you that he’s being entirely serious.

“J-Just you know…uhm…I uh…” your mind is suddenly blank; you can feel the stress and anxiety of the past few hours building up and threatening to break you right here in front of the strangers. The kind chef and the high-ranking member of the most famous gang in the country. You really don’t want to fall apart in front of them.

“How about you think about it, and we’ll get a message down when you’ve decided?” The tall man offers. You nod quickly in agreement. “Okay, let’s go straight to your room and Jun will send some snacks up while you think, yeah?”

“I can do snacks!” Junhui promises before turning and scuttling further down the hall.

“He really loves feeding people,” the tall man says with a little chuckle before motioning back the way you came, so you back up to let him lead the way to the entrance hall and then up the grand staircase.

The bedroom he takes you is at the back of the house and overlooks the patio with a view out over the gardens and lawn beyond, though you don’t do more than simply glance over at the large windows before focusing on the room itself.

There’s a king-sized bed against the back wall and on the opposite wall, with a fair distance in between, is a flat screen TV sitting before a plush looking loveseat and low table. You can see two doors on the wall opposite to the entrance door and assume they lead to an ensuite and walk in wardrobe, but other than that, it’s all rather empty.

“This room isn’t used that much and it’s further away from the frequently used rooms, plus below is the ballroom and well, that definitely doesn’t get used often so I thought this room would be best, because it’ll be quieter here. I guess your son is noise sensitive?”

“You care about that?” You ask shocked as you look at him and finally put Chan down on the floor to rest your arms, though he stays glued to your side despite being obviously curious as he peers around from the edges of his vision.

“Yeah, kids are important and everyone in this house and inner estate believes in that too. We’ll all do whatever we need to make your time here comfortable.”

“We’re hostages, not guests,” you remind simply.

The man winces a little. “Yeah, I guess so.” He shrugs helplessly. “It is what it is, I guess. I really don’t know what the boss is going to do later; we haven’t had this situation occur before so we’re all kind of clueless, but we don’t want to hurt you or your son.”

“He’s not my son,” you finally correct, not sure what else to say and look down at Chan. “He’s my brother.”

“Oh! Okay. What’s his name?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“It’d be nice to have something to call him. What about a nickname then?”

“He won’t talk to you, it doesn’t matter.”

“Right.” There’s a moment of tense silence before the man talks up again. “What about you? Can I at least know a name to call you?”

For a few seconds, you debate not answering him, but then you figure the least you could do is give the man something to refer to you as, even if you refuse to give your real name. “Pearl,” you answer, giving the only name your brother calls you, after a character in his favourite movie.

You don’t know if the man realises it’s just an alias or not, but he smiles at you as if he doesn’t care and is just glad to have a name to call you. “I’m Mingyu, I’ll oversee your care until the boss is back, so if you need anything you can ask whoever is outside the door for me and I’ll come right away. For now, I’ll let you poke about the room while I get fresh bedding and towels and everything. Do you have spare clothes? I’ll get extra anyway for you both. I’ll be right back!” He darts out of the room and closes the door behind him gently, yet securely, before you can even try to answer.

“Where we?” Chan asks seconds later when he looks up at you.

“Where are we,” you correct naturally, trying to prevent his delayed speech getting worse with only you for company. It’s hard when you’re not personally used to talking to people very much, even back when you had people around to talk to. But you’re trying to do the best you can for your little brother and not impede his development further. It’s just hard.

“Where are we?” Chan repeats without hesitation, already long ago used to being corrected, though he has only ever tried to absorb and learn your own words, no-one else’s.

It’s much easier for him to progress now that his sole educator genuinely cares about him and understands his struggles. He’s come in leaps and bounds in some ways the past few months, but you know the life you’ve dragged him into won’t be good for his growth in the long run.

Every day you wish you can do better for him, but there are too many obstacles for you to traverse on your own and half the days you’re stuck in an endless loop of regret from taking him away, and relief from taking him away, with no room left in your mind and soul to do anything but stare off until Chan needs you.

“Just somewhere until we find our next move,” you answer, not sure what to say to the innocent boy because you can’t exactly tell him the truth, though you don’t want to lie to him if you can help it. You hate being lied to so you’ve always made a point of being as honest with Chan as you can. He deserves that much, at the very least.

“Mm, okay,” he replies and lets go of you to start wandering around curiously.

You remain in the middle of the room and watch him for a few minutes until there’s a knock on the door and Chan scrambles back to your side.

“It’s me!” Mingyu calls. “Mingyu!” He adds, and you call for him to come in, so the door opens and the tall man steps inside with his arms full of a bundle of different materials, and another shorter man following him. “This is Seungkwan; he’s really good with kids and bugged me to let him meet your brother. That’s cool, right?”

“I don’t have a choice who you bring here,” you point out while putting your hand on Chan’s head protectively when both men move into the room to step past you in different directions. Mingyu places the bundle of clothing in his arms on the couch while Seungkwan scuttles over to the bed and starts to strip it of the stale sheets.

“We don’t want to overwhelm you two,” Mingyu explains. “I know it’s not your choice to be here and chances are, you’re two very innocent people caught in the wrong place, so you’ve done nothing wrong and there is no issue between us.”

You can’t help but wonder what kind of tune this man would be singing if he saw the brand on your thigh. You know it wouldn’t be a good one.

“Bring the sheets, Gyu,” Seungkwan encourages now that he has the bed entirely bare of any sheets.

Obligingly, Mingyu grabs the clean bedding from the bundle to approach and help Seungkwan set up the bed neatly while you and Chan watch silently, though whenever the pair look over at you, Chan looks away and presses further into your leg.

“So,” Mingyu starts once the bed is ready and he and Seungkwan move closer. Though they keep more than just a polite distance from you both, even if Seungkwan keeps glancing at Chan as if he wants to talk to the little boy yet can see that it’s not a good idea. “Have you thought about what you want to eat?”

“Oh…no,” you reply honestly. “I forgot.”

“Aren’t you hungry?” He tilts his head, curious and a little confused as if he doesn’t understand how you can’t be hungry considering the state of you.

“No,” it’s another completely truthful answer and makes the tall man look even more puzzled, but at least he doesn’t question it.

“Okay, well, maybe some snacks will bring back your appetite. We don’t have any women’s clothes, you’re the only woman in the manor in years so I brought you some of mine, I hope that’s okay.”

“You idiot,” Seungkwan scolds and backhands Mingyu’s closest arm, making the tall man break into a pout, to your complete astonishment. “Those will drown her!” The smaller man looks at you with a kind smile. “I’ll get you some of my own, those will be better suited, and I’ll get something for your brother. We might have some clothes small enough, but they might be too big. But at least they’ll do until his own clothes are cleaned up, right?”

Honestly, you’re still too thrown off by how kind the men in this house have been to you so far to be able to answer in any certain way. It’s very kind, yes, and you truly appreciate it, at least for Chan’s sake so he doesn’t have to suffer more, but you can’t believe they’re doing this out of the goodness of their own hearts. It’s unfathomable to you.

All you do is make a vague sound in response that Seungkwan takes as agreement and smiles, only telling you that he’ll be right back before leaving.

“Did you look at the bathroom?” Mingyu prompts, pointing to the still closed doors. You shake your head. “I’ll show you how the shower and stuff work, they’re stupidly complicated with all the options,” he says as he walks over to the left-hand door and opens it to an all-white bathroom, which is lit brightly despite the overhead light not being turned on, thanks to the large window above the tub against the back wall.

You pick Chan up to carry him into the bathroom and peer around curiously while Mingyu rambles on about how long it took him to get used to the fancy showers here when he first joined, and then they changed them to even fancier ones with more options, so he had to learn it all again.

It’s strange how different the large man seems at the manor compared to when you first met him. Although there had clearly been care in him then, as evident by his insistence on all of you wearing seatbelts and the arm that he had kept in front of Chan the entire drive with enough space to not be close to touching the boy, he had seemed every bit the gangster he must be to be a Centaur. Yet, now at the house, he’s almost a different person; no tense edges and only open expressions.

It must be that thing about people being themselves when they’re at home; feeling safe and able to be honest about who they truly are. You’ve never had that and wonder what it must feel like to experience that genuine ease and comfort, to be free. You doubt you’ll ever know.

“Ah, shit,” Mingyu curses when the water sprays out over him once he turns one of the dials. “I forgot about the multiple heads,” he grumbles and turns the water back off to face you while pulling his sleeveless t-shirt away from his torso where the water is making it start to stick and enhance his muscled chest. “Oh, sorry! I swore in front of him!” He apologises with wide eyes and one hand coming up to cover his mouth guiltily.

“He’s heard worse,” you reply, not at all bothered by the curse as you often drop minor curses in front of Chan, and he hasn’t copied them yet. Nor the more vulgar ones your father prefers.

“Still, I shouldn’t do it.” He glances over your shoulder a second before you hear footsteps approaching, making you move aside and turn so that you have a clear view of everyone.

“Hopefully, these will all be okay,” Seungkwan says as he enters the bathroom with a pile of clothing to place on the counter. “You can keep it all too if you want, none of it gets used anyway so it’d be better if someone who’d make use of it all gets it.”

“Oh. Thank you,” you reply, once again shocked by the kindness of these men but starting to get a little more accustomed to it, enough to show some gratitude at least.

“No problem!” He chirps then moves back to the bedroom to grab the towels from the couch to also put on the bathroom counter. “As far as I’m aware, everything you might want should be in the cupboards; the bathrooms are usually always fully stocked.” To check the validity of his own words, Seungkwan goes over to the unit and opens the doors to reveal more towels, toilet rolls, cleaning products and toiletries. “Ah, I’ll take these ones, they probably smell musty now; they must’ve been in here a while.” He plucks out the stack of towels and sniffs them, immediately pulling a face. “Yeah, I’ll go get you more.” He wanders off before anyone can say anything.

“I’ll let you shower and everything. I imagine snacks will be in the bedroom by the time you’re done,” Mingyu declares. “You can lock the doors too, by the way, this one and the bedroom door if that makes you feel safe. But if you don’t answer when we knock, at least half of us can either pick the lock or break it off, but we will only do that if you don’t answer in a reasonable time. For safety reasons; both yours, and ours.”

“I understand,” you reply simply and nod a little in agreement to his warning.

“Okay, great! Enjoy your showers and I’ll see you in a bit!”

Mingyu leaves and you wait until you watch him also leave the bedroom and shut the door behind him before you put Chan down and close the bathroom door, immediately clicking the lock into place.

“Use the toilet, Squirt,” you encourage, motioning to the toilet and glad that Chan waddles straight over obediently to do his business while you rummage through the cupboard to take out the necessary supplies.

“Hurts,” Chan’s words make you look over to where he’s still sitting on the toilet and frowning at you.

“Your belly?” He shakes his head. “Oh, to pee?” He nods. “Ah, I was worried you haven’t had enough to drink. Okay, well hopefully they’ll have left drinks, and you can drink lots and that will help.”

“Juice?”

“Mm, maybe, I don’t know, bud.”

“I want apple juice.”

“We’ll see what they give us. It might just be water.” Chan pulls a face. “I know you don’t like water but it’s good, remember? We need to make sure we drink enough of it to be healthy. You didn’t drink your water this morning and now it hurts to pee.”

“Lots but not too much,” he repeats the words you’ve said to him many times when convincing him to drink his daily water intake.

It was so much easier when you had access to whatever drinks you wanted, but now you can rarely afford to buy anything other than cheap bottled water or refill empty bottles at public water fountains, which are few and far between these days. So sometimes, it’s truly a struggle to keep you both hydrated.

“Exactly, too much or too little is bad for us.”

“Need to be healthy.”

“We do. And clean, so finish up and let’s get you showered.”

“Water?” Chan gasps excitedly and rushes to get off the toilet and close the lid before flushing it, then speeds over with his trousers still around his knees, but you don’t scold him for it; there’s no point when he’s about to take them off. Also, it makes him waddle like a penguin and it’s rather amusing.

“Yeah, get naked and I’ll get it nice and warm.”

“Water time!” Chan exclaims happily and rapidly starts to throw off his clothes, making you once again glad that you have been able to buy him clothes that are easy for him to handle on his own, without buttons or zips for him to get frustrated with. One less reason for a meltdown.

Although he doesn’t have any water safe toys to play with in the shower, Chan has endless fun jumping under the warm water and splashing around while singing every water themed song he can think of, even making up plenty too, while you sit on the tiles outside of the splash zone and watch fondly.

There will never be anyone who you love and adore more than your little brother. You’d do anything for him, risk everything if it would make him smile like this all the time.

Though after a while, you do have to stop his joyful playing so that you can give him a soapy sponge for him to clean his body while you scrub his shaggy hair clean as he sits on the wet tiles in front of where you kneel, getting your jeans wet but you don’t care.

Once Chan is all clean, you wrap him up in a few towels and sit him on the dry tiles facing the wall so he can play with the few toys from his backpack and remain occupied while you shower. It’s not that often that you can shower properly, usually you just have to wash you both over with baby wipes, or with a damp cloth when you can find a private space big enough for it. Showers have become a luxury over the past months, but even with the little amount you’ve had, Chan knows that he must remain looking away while you shower to give you privacy, and he only complains about it if he doesn’t stay entertained with toys for the duration.

As much as you’d love to stand under the water and let it soothe your aching muscles until your skin is all wrinkly, you know you can’t, so you scrub yourself as quickly as possible while remaining thorough, before getting out and rubbing your body dry so you can pull on the clothes Seungkwan left for you. Of course, there isn’t a bra or underwear, but the sweatpants, t-shirt, socks, and hoodie all fit comfortably enough and smell fresh and clean.

With a towel around your hair, you get Chan up and dressed before towel drying both of your hair quickly and unlocking the bathroom door to let you out into the bedroom.

As Mingyu said, someone has left snacks on the low table, a lot of snacks and various bottles and cans of drinks.

Chan gasps excitedly and rushes over to pick up a little bottle of apple juice. “Juice, Per!”

“Mm, sit down then,” you hum and take the bottle to open it as Chan sits down and plops his turtle plushie at his side in wait. As soon as you’ve handed over the open bottle, your brother starts to gulp the contents down eagerly. “Ah, Channie, slow, you’ll make yourself sick. We must be careful when we eat and drink, remember?”

“But I so thirsty, Per!”

“I know, but it’s not going anywhere. Take it steady, Squirt.”

“Slow and steady wins the race,” he quotes, and you smile softly as you watch him purposely take much smaller sips now, all because of a tortoise in an old fable.

Once he’s consumed half of the bottle, Chan puts it on the table and accepts the packet of mini cookies you’ve opened to offer and happily starts munching away with his feet contently flopping from side to side where they’re stretched out in front of him under the table.

While Chan eats the snacks you’ve set up ready for him, you go back to the bathroom to clean your clothes in the sink with the soaps, even if they’re not designed for this, but you can’t be picky about how you get your clothes clean, you just care that they are.

When Chan scrambles into the bathroom while you’re setting everything up to dry, you become concerned until you hear the knocking on the bedroom door and understand what has spooked your little brother. “It’s okay, you can wait in here,” you assure and pat his head before going to the bedroom to open the door while he does as offered and remains hiding in the bathroom.

On the other side of the bedroom door upon opening it stand Mingyu and Junhui, each with a tray of covered plates in their hands and smiles on their faces.

“Hi, Pearl!” Junhui greets. “Food’s ready!”

“Oh,” you step back to let the men in and rush over to the low table to clean up the crumbs and packets Chan has left behind.

“Here, here, I’ll take them,” Mingyu offers, plucking the rubbish from your hands after he’s put down the tray in his hands. “I need to go out for a bit, but Jun is still around, and Seungkwan is too, so you can ask for either of them until I’m back. It should only be an hour; I’ve just got to deal with some stuff in the middle wall.” You nod in understanding. Mingyu shoots you a smile before he leaves, pulling up the door, yet leaving it open slightly as Junhui is still in the room.

The chef is kneeling beside the table as he sets up all of the plates, uncovering them as he goes and causing various delicious scents to fill the room. You’re not surprised that Chan shuffles over and half hides behind your legs as he eyes the food, drawn in by the smell.

“So!” Junhui starts when he’s done arranging everything and looks up. He jerks back in surprise spotting Chan suddenly at your side, but he just smiles at him brightly, then looks up at you. “I thought I’d play it mostly safe and made some plain, yet still tasty and nutritious, foods; enough for the both of you butttt” he starts pulling out condiment bottles and jars of herbs and spices from the various pockets on his cargo pants and apron. “I brought flavours so you can adjust them as you like! I thought that’d be easier than stressing you out by asking you what you like again; that clearly wasn’t getting anywhere. So here, enjoy, eat as much or as little as you want, and you can ask Soonyoung for me if you need more.”

“Soonyoung?” You repeat confusedly.

“Yeah, the guy outside the room.” He motions to the door over his shoulder. “But be warned if you do open the door to ask for something, you will have to deal with talking to him. He hurt his ankle last week and is only off bed rest now, still not allowed to do patrols or go out so he’s sitting on a chair sulking and constantly complaining that he’s bored. But he’s got great hearing and is dumb enough to still jump around on his bad ankle so he will stop you from leaving and get hurt in the process. And then we’ll have to deal with him sulking even longer, so for our sake, please don’t try to run away or anything.”

“That would be illogical given where we are,” you point out simply.

The cook makes a noise of understanding while nodding his head slowly. “Ah, so you do know where you are and whose roof you’re under.”

“Mingyu’s tattoo gives it away, yes.”

“He’s insane, I tell you,” Junhui states, picking up a child-sized cutlery set to hand over, so you take it and sit down, pulling Chan down next to you and handing him the fork to let him pick what he wants to try. No surprise, he goes straight for the plain noodles. Junhui hands you the adult’s cutlery set, though you just hold it at the edge of the table as he talks. “It’s January and the idiot keeps going out in stupid, thin jackets that inevitably get ripped and destroyed, and I think he does it on purpose just to have an excuse to take them off and get his arms out. He’s very vain that Mingyu; he’s hot and he knows it.” He tuts.

You’re not sure what to say in response. Sure, Mingyu is very attractive, and it had struck you as very odd that he was only in a sleeveless t-shirt in winter, but he hadn’t come across as vain to you, though you’re aware that you really don’t know him at all to have a solid opinion on his vanity level. So, you just make a vague sound in response and hope it’s enough to appease Junhui.

“Well, anyway, I’ll let you eat. If you don’t like any of it, tell Soonyoung to call me and I’ll make something else; all I do around here is cook and dinner isn’t for hours, so I don’t have anything else to do. You’d actually be doing me a favour by giving me something to do other than sit playing games on my phone in the den or trying to convince one of the others to entertain me.”

“Why don’t you sit with Soonyoung, if you’re both bored?” You logically suggest.

“Because…actually, that’s a good point. I’ll get a game, do you like games? We can play monopoly…oh, no, that’s a bad idea. Cluedo? No, Soonyoung never understands those kinds of games.” He frowns in thought.

“I’d rather just focus on my brother.”

“Ah, right, right. You’re a good sister.” Junhui gets to his feet after slapping his own thighs. “I’ll be outside and if we get too loud, just come out and tell us to shut up, we both lack volume control when we get excited. Okay, bye, Pearl. Bye, little man!” Junhui skips out of your room, calling to Soonyoung about playing a game as he goes. You can’t see the other man, but you hear his excited whoop before the door shuts and blessedly closes out their conversation.

“Is it good, Channie?” You ask, brushing Chan’s floppy, almost dry hair back out of his eyes. He hums and nods in agreement as he eats. “Good.”

Only now that you’re alone with your little brother and content that he’s eating well do you pick up your cutlery and start to eat.

Although Mingyu has reappeared and left again multiple times, you and Chan are mostly alone for hours, with the man only popping in to check on you both and ask if you need anything, plus take away all the dishes with Junhui.

It’s almost midnight when there’s a knock on the door and you look over from being curled protectively around your sleeping brother. Something about the knock is different to how Mingyu knocks, it’s firmer, yet still gentle in a strange contradiction that makes your stomach flitter with anxiety.

Silently, as to not disturb Chan, you get off the bed and walk to the door to open it just as the knocking starts up again.

On the other side is a man, who although you’ve never met before, you’ve seen his picture many times in files in your father’s office to be able to recognise his dark gaze and full lips.

Choi Seungcheol, the current leader of Choi’s Centaurs as of ten years ago when his father passed through means that have never been publicly verified. Many even think that Seungcheol himself had a hand in his father’s death just so that he could take over the gang sooner.

You don’t know enough of the man to have an opinion on that matter, but what you do know is that he makes an intimidating figure as he looms over you in riding leathers with his motorbike helmet still in one gloved hand at his side, whereas the other is bare and raised in a fist from knocking on the door.

“Pearl, I assume?” He greets, raising an eyebrow slightly in question while lowering his arm to hang at his side.

You don’t know if the dark look is intentional or not, but you do know the shadows under his eyes aren’t. He looks exhausted and you can’t imagine he’s very happy about having to come to you upon returning home instead of going to bed like he no doubt yearns to.

You nod in confirmation. “Your brother is asleep?” Another nod. “Alright, step out here so we can talk without waking him.”

Silently, you step into the hall when he moves aside, before you pull the door up almost entirely shut, yet cracked open enough that you can hear if Chan needs you.

“So, what I hear is that a couple of my guys found you in the warehouse where it seems as if you’ve been sleeping with your brother?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, good, you speak,” he places his helmet on the floor so that he can remove his glove and tuck it into his jacket pocket with the other before unzipping the protective jacket, showing a plain black t-shirt tucked into the waistband of his trousers. “You’re homeless?”

“Yes.”

“Any family to go to? I can’t send you back onto the streets with a kid.”

“Just like that?” You ask, looking at him puzzled. “You’re just sending us out again?”

“What do you expect me to do with you? I know you’re aware I don’t condone violence towards children, nor do I agree with leaving any kid in a position where they don’t have an adult to look after them. I’m not going to hurt your brother, and hurting you would hurt him too, so my only option is to send you off and hope you won’t try to cause me any trouble by saying shit about whatever you saw and heard at the warehouse.”

“And here.”

“What?”

“Your men brought me into your home; as far as I’m aware that’s pretty fucking unheard of.”

He nods slightly in confirmation. “This situation is unheard of, you’re right, Mingyu fucked up by bringing you into the manor when he could’ve left you in one of the empty houses in the outer wall, but I can’t blame him when he did it to make sure he knows you two will be safe and looked after. So tomorrow I’ll personally drive you to the closest family you have, so that I know you arrive safely.”

“No.”

“No?” He frowns at you in astonishment. “The fuck do you mean no? I don’t think you understand what’s going on here, sweetheart. I’m in charge and you’re under my roof, you’re alive because of my rules and you have no fucking place to say no to me.”

“I’ll say no to whoever I need to if it means protecting my brother.”

“I just said I’m not going to let anyone hurt him.”

“Sending us to family will mean him getting hurt.”

“Did you run away?” You nod in confirmation. “Because your parents hurt you?”

“I took him and ran because I knew it would only get worse for him now that… Look, I don’t give a fuck who you are or what you can do to me; I’m not letting you send my brother back there. I won’t do a thing that puts us back on their radar. So just take us back to the warehouse so I can grab the shit I had to leave behind and we can see the last of each other.”

Seungcheol stares at you consideringly for a long moment as his arms cross over his chest before he nods once in understanding and acceptance. “Alright, no family, but I’m not sending you back to the streets. There must be some kind of women’s and children’s refuge that would take you in.”

“Separately. I’m not his parent and as I’m not a kid myself, we’d get separated.”

“Then lie and say he’s your son.”

“I don’t like to lie.”

He scoffs a laugh. “You wouldn’t last a day in my world with that mindset, sweetheart.” You don’t answer and just stare at him silently, well aware of how wrong his assumption is. “Right, so not that. Well, and this is a once in a lifetime offer, but I’ll buy you a house, put it in your name, give you money to cover costs for a few months while you get on your feet, and we never cross paths again. You won’t owe me shit either; I have more money than I know what to do with anyway, I can afford to help someone in need.”

“If I use my name they will find us, Seungcheol,” you plainly state.

He blinks at you a few times dumbly before responding. “Oh, that’s my name.”

You can’t help but look at him in concern for his odd reaction. “Yes.”

“You seriously do know who I am. I didn’t even introduce myself.”

“You’re the head of the most famous gang in the country, of course I know who you are.”

“Mm, many might know me by name, not by face.”

“Mingyu told me the boss will be by to see me once he’s home; you are the only person who has knocked on the door other than him. And you said you’re in charge; I’m under your roof. It’s not hard to put two and two together,” comes your logical rationalisation, easily explaining how you didn’t fail to recognise him despite his lack of introduction.

He’s right in that most people may know his alias, yet have no idea what his first name is, even if they know his family name, or who the name belongs to if they passed him in the street without introduction.

“Huh, guess so. Just threw me hearing my name suddenly, especially as nobody actually calls me that.”

“I don’t like your alias,” you admit bluntly, and to your surprise, the man lets out a laugh. “What?”

“Nobody has ever said that to my face before. Wow, either you have the biggest balls I’ve ever seen, or you’re so sleep deprived that you’ve forgotten how to act.”

Once again, you don’t answer, just silently stare at him. You truly have no idea what category you fit under right now, if either.

“You’re an interesting one, Pearl,” he declares with amusement tilting the edge of his lips up ever so slightly. “Well, I don’t think we’re going to get anywhere with this tonight so we’re both going to go the fuck to bed and get some much-needed sleep, then we’ll talk again. And I’ll meet your brother; the guys say he’s adorable and shy, so I’m real curious about him.”

“Right,” you mutter in response, not sure what you’re expected to say right now.

“Alright, well, seeing as you’re not an idiot and know who I am and what you risk if you try to fuck me over, I won’t have anyone outside your room anymore and no-one will bother you until the morning when someone comes and gets you for breakfast.”

“Get us? Like, to join?”

“Yeah, we can talk over breakfast; I’ve got a busy day tomorrow and the sooner we sort this shit out, the better.”

“Right.”

“Go back to your brother and make sure you sleep too. You look like you’re about to pass out any second,” he says as he bends over momentarily to swoop up his helmet into his hold.

“Says you.”

Seungcheol snorts a laugh as he turns and walks off. “Definitely an interesting one.”

You watch him until he turns at the end of the hall and is out of sight before you go back into the bedroom and lock the door so that when you curl up under the covers with your brother, you feel safe enough to close your eyes and sleep in a soft bed for the first time in months.

Maybe today hasn’t been quite as unlucky as you initially thought.

When the knock comes in the morning, you’ve already been up for a few hours.

You’ve already cleaned up the bathroom and bedroom, showered for what may be the last time in a while to take advantage while Chan slept, and dressed back in your own clean clothes; though you’ve neatly folded the ones Seungkwan gave you into your backpack, hoping that he was being honest about allowing you to keep them, you could really do with the spare clothes.

Once Chan woke, you had him drink some juice, then let him splash around in the bath until the water was cold and his skin wrinkly, before drying him and dressing him in clean clothes and folding his new spares into your own backpack as his own is too full of his own spare clothes, toys, and other necessary supplies.

Chan’s playing with his toys on the bed at your side when the knock comes, so you leave him there to get up and answer the door.

“Good morning!” Mingyu greets you brightly once the door is open and you have sight of one another. “I’m glad you’re already up, breakfast is just about ready. Is your brother up too?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, great, let’s go join the others.” You nod slightly in agreement, then turn to get Chan and carry him with you as he clutches his turtle to his chest and hides in your neck.

“Does he have trouble walking?” Mingyu wonders as you follow him down the hall.

“Sometimes.”

“Ah, you just carry him all of the time, so I wondered.”

“It’s just easier, lets me know he’s safe if I’m holding him.”

“That makes sense. But he is safe here, you know. Nobody will hurt him. We all love kids in this house, in the appropriate way.”

“I don’t know you to trust those words.”

“I understand,” he assures and gives you a little smile.

Nothing more is said all the way to the kitchen where you can already hear noise before you enter. It’s not too loud, thankfully, just the general sounds of people being happy and chatting. And to your surprise, you can hear a child’s voice amongst it all.

“They’re here!” Junhui cheers as you enter the kitchen and see him cooking with another man while the large breakfast table is surrounded by a bunch of men, Seungcheol and Seungkwan included, plus a little boy who is in the middle of climbing over a brightly smiling man.

The little boy immediately looks over and grins brightly. “My new friend!” He exclaims.

“No, no, I told you, no,” Seungcheol says with a sigh. “Every child you meet isn’t your friend, Solie.”

“But he will be!” The boy insists and almost climbs up onto the table, though the man who he’s using as a willing climbing frame grabs him and moves him to put on the floor. Undeterred as if it’s a regular occurrence, the boy runs around the table to approach you and stare up at your hiding little brother in awe. “Hi! I’m Hansol, I’m almost seven! What’s your name?”

All the men look over curiously, stopping their conversations to see what happens next.

“I’m sorry, Hansol, but he doesn’t talk to anyone but me,” you say to the young boy gently.

“Oh,” Hansol frowns. “Why?”

“He only feels safe with me.”

“Oh. I don’t have a sister, but I feel safest with my daddy, so I talk his ear off, he says.” To your surprise, he points over at Seungcheol, who is watching his son with fond amusement.

In all you’ve seen and read about Choi Seungcheol over the years, you’ve never even heard a rumour that he has a child, not even a woman claiming to be carrying his child to try and get money from the filthy-rich family. There have even been rumours that the man is gay due to the lack of women seen on his arm over the years. Maybe that’s still true and Hansol isn’t biologically Seungcheol’s, maybe he’s adopted or a surrogate baby; not that it matters when you can see nothing but pure love in the man’s eyes for his son.

At least now you understand why the men had all been so insistent that Seungcheol has strict rules to protect children; as a father he likely has a better appreciation and love for the little humans. Well, a good father should, at least. Something about this man makes you think that he is a good and doting father, despite being a ruthless gang leader.

“Ah, it’s good you feel safe with him,” you decide to say and look at Hansol, who nods enthusiastically in agreement before looking at Chan again.

“Can we still be friends if he doesn’t talk and I talk a lot?”

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly. “I don’t know if he can handle it, he’s sensitive to noise.”

“Oh, me too, like bangs and stuff; it makes me feel all horrible and gross and sometimes I wear my special headphones, and it makes it all quiet. Does he have special headphones too? They’re really good!”

“Ear defenders?”

“Oh, is that what they’re called?”

You nod. “Defend means to protect and they’re designed to protect your hearing and block out noises.”

“Ooooh, that’s cool! Daddy!” Hansol turns to look at his father. “My special headphones are superheroes for my ears!”

“So I heard,” Seungcheol replies with a chuckle. “Why don’t you come sit down so Pearl can get comfortable with her brother for breakfast, hm?”

“Can I sit with him?”

“I think he’d rather sit with his sister.”

The little boy deflates, whole posture slumping and his lips protruding sadly, “oh.”

“You can sit with me, Solie!” The same man Hansol had earlier been climbing on offers, making Hansol light right back up and run over to clamber up.

“No, no way,” Junhui argues sternly. “You spill enough food as it is without a child on your lap, Kwon Soonyoung.”

The man you now know to be Soonyoung, the man with the injured ankle who had been keeping guard outside of your room yesterday, pouts and crosses his arms over his chest, which Hansol copies when he’s in his own seat on his dad’s right at the head of the table. “You never let us have breakfast cuddles anymore,” Soonyoung complains in a mumble.

“Learn to eat like a grown up and then you’ll be allowed breakfast cuddles,” another man says as Mingyu leads you over to the empty two seats on Seungcheol’s left and motions for you to sit in the one closest to the boss. You sit in the offered chair while continuing to hold Chan chest to chest on your lap, and Mingyu takes the seat on your left.

“You’re younger than me!” Soonyoung exclaims.

“Alright children, at least pretend to know how to behave when we have guests,” Seungcheol chides, though he looks to be so used to the playful bickering that it doesn’t truly bother him.

“Yes, daddy,” Soonyoung agrees, then yelps when the metal chopstick Seungcheol abruptly throws through the air whacks him in the arm. “Ow!”

“I’ve told you not to call me that!”

“You do call them children,” the man at the other end of the table points out with a little, lazily amused smirk. “It’s your own fault, daddy.”

“Yeah, daddy,” multiple of the men chime in sync, then start to cackle when Seungcheol sighs heavily.

Though the man decides to ignore them all and turns his attention to you instead. “So, how’d you two sleep?”

“Good,” you reply, eyes darting around as everyone starts to serve themselves now that Junhui and the man who was cooking with him are seated, a sign that it’s time to eat. You’re shocked that they don’t wait for Seungcheol and Hansol to have their servings first, as the lead family. Though you can see Soonyoung making sure that the child has food on his plate before he gets his own share.

“What do you want to eat? I’ll grab it for you,” Mingyu offers. “Does he eat toast?” You nod in confirmation, so Mingyu grabs a couple of slices of toast. “With butter?” You nod again and he gets to work buttering the toast.

“Will you turn around?” You request Chan softly once you’ve leaned down to talk to him. He shakes his head. “Just halfway, please, Squirt. You can face the wall, but you need to be able to reach your food.”

Chan tenses for a second as he squeezes his turtle tight to his chest, before he relaxes and you know it means he’s ready, so you adjust him until his back is to Mingyu. Although Chan is technically facing Seungcheol now, the wall is more directly in front of him, and he stares at it.

“Anything else on it? We don’t have peanut butter, Hansol’s allergic, but we have probably almost anything else,” Mingyu says once the toast is buttered and on the plate that is sitting in front of you on the table.

“Do you want anything on your toast, Squirt?” You ask. Chan glances over to the plate and instead of verbally answering, he picks up a piece of the warm toast to start eating contently, feet starting to bounce a little as he chews.

“Is his name Squirt?” Hansol speaks up from directly opposite you, causing you to look over and see that he’s already got crumbs around his mouth from his own toast, though his is slathered in jam and he also has a single sausage on his plate.

“It’s a nickname,” you answer.

“Oh, why?”

“Have you seen Finding Nemo?”

“Yeah!” Hansol lights up. “I wanna bounce on the jellyfish, boing, boing!” He bounces in his seat.

“Ah, you shouldn’t bounce when you eat,” you say automatically, worried about the boy choking. “It’s a hazard to move in such a way while you eat.”

Hansol falls still to look at you with intrigue. “What’s hazard mean?”

“Dangerous. A hazard is something that’s dangerous.”

“Oh. So, no bouncing when eating?” You hum and nod in approval. “Okay.”

“What?” Seungcheol baulks in disbelief. “I’ve been telling you to sit still while you eat since you could sit up and you listen to someone you just met?”

“You never told me it’s dangerous, daddy. I don’t want to get hurt, you know.”

“I must’ve told you it’s dangerous,” Seungcheol mutters.

“Nope! You tell me I make a mess.”

“Oh…well, okay, that’s my fault then, I should’ve put the danger warnings first.”

“You should,” Hansol agrees simply, and for the first time in over 24 hours, you almost laugh yet manage to hold it back and instead just smile amusedly. “Will Squirt play with me after breakfast?”

“I thought we’re playing after breakfast,” Seungkwan pouts from Mingyu’s left.

“I always play with you Uncle Kwannie, I need new friends who aren’t old.”

“Wow, Hansol, wow,” Seungkwan deadpans. “You say such lovely things.”

“I am a lovely boy,” Hansol agrees, entirely missing the sarcasm in the man’s voice, making Mingyu giggle as Seungkwan pouts to stop himself from also laughing. “Does Squirt like climbing? I want to play outside after breakfast, and I can show my climbing frame, and we can play fishies too! I bet he’ll like that if he likes Nemo. Does he like playing fishies?”

“I don’t think he’s ever played it,” you answer honestly.

“We just pretend we’re fishies living in the sea, it’s pretty easy to play.” Hansol shrugs.

“Just eat your breakfast, Sol,” Seungcheol says, tapping the edge of Hansol’s plate.

“I am eating, daddy, you’re not and she’s not. We’re all eating but you two.”

“Okay, well focus on your food while we talk about adult stuff, okay?”

“Ugh, boring,” Hansol huffs and turns to start talking to Soonyoung, who happily listens to the little boy as they both eat with crumbs around their mouths and wide eyes on one another.

“So, I’ve been thinking,” Seungcheol starts as he finally moves to put food on his own plate, though pauses when he realises that only Chan’s second piece of toast is on the plate in front of you. “You can help yourself; it’s all free game.”

“I’m okay, thank you,” you reply.

“Eat, you need energy to look after your brother,” he declares firmly and as much as you want to argue, he’s got you by bringing Chan into it; you’re pretty sure he said that on purpose. “I’m going to put food on your plate, and you don’t have to eat it all, but eat something, okay?” He doesn’t wait for your agreement before he gets up onto his feet to lean over the table further and serve a little of most of the dishes onto your plate before he serves himself a much heartier portion of everything.

For a few minutes, you eat quietly, feeding Chan from your own cutlery too so that he’s not just eating toast, even if he seems perfectly happy slowly chewing on it while staring off, though he opens his mouth to accept whatever you choose to feed him without complaint.

“Can I ask something?” Seungcheol’s voice makes you look away from Chan and to the man on your right. There’s something in his eyes you can’t place as he watches Chan curiously. “Is he autistic?” Your movements immediately halt and Seungcheol notices, snapping his full attention to your carefully blank expression. “He is, isn’t he?”

“My brother’s business is not yours,” you state firmly.

“I’m not trying to step on your toes or anything, I just see a lot of Hansol in him,” he explains with a shrug. “He’s got autism and ADHD, so I get it, we all get it, if he is autistic. It’s not a dirty word in this house and we all make accommodations where necessary to make sure my son doesn’t ever feel other, you know? He’s just another kid with some differences as far as he’s concerned.”

For a long moment, you just stare at Seungcheol in utter shock at his words. Not necessarily that Hansol has autism and ADHD because that doesn’t exactly surprise you despite having just met the kid, sometimes you just know these things, but what is a surprise is the ease in which Seungcheol says it all and the fact that you truly believe him; that they all accept and love Hansol and do what they can to support him.

It’s everything you’ve ever wanted for Chan.

“Oh,” you breathe out, and with that breath, it feels like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders. “It’s why I took him away. He got diagnosed in summer, and suddenly…can we stay?” You suddenly request, shocking the man visibly; his eyes go wide, and he straightens up from his casual slouch as he leans on his elbows on the table. “I will work for you; I’ll do whatever you need me to, just please allow my brother to grow up somewhere stable and with love. I’m not asking you to love him in any way, or for any of you to look after him; but for him to see another child like him receiving such love, I hope he’ll know there’s more than just one person on the side of kids like him.”

Seungcheol remains quiet for a second before he lets out a little breath. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I was actually going to suggest it myself, that you stay, because I really don’t know what else to do. You have nowhere to go, and I had a feeling he’s autistic, so I know it’s even harder for you and I truly don’t want to risk your family finding you, especially now I know why they think it’s acceptable to be cruel to an innocent child. I was just surprised you asked.”

“For his sake I’ll do anything.”

“Can you clean?”

“What?”

“If you stay, you need to work and there’s always stuff to clean in a house this size.”

“Is this because I’m a woman?” You deadpan and suddenly, the men closest to you turn quiet, creating a domino effect of silence along the table as they all turn to look at their flustered leader. “Is that the only job you could think of for a woman to be of use in your gang, Seungcheol?”

“Oooh,” Soonyoung jeers under his breath amusedly.

“What? No!” Seungcheol sputters. “I’m not sexist! I know women have plenty of uses besides cleaning!”

“Then why are there no women other than me in this house? I saw perhaps five on the entire drive through the estate. Those don’t seem like numbers of an equal opportunist.”

“I like her,” one of the men whispers to another, however as no-one else is talking, it’s loud and clear to you all and he doesn’t seem to care at all.

“What’s sexist?” Hansol curiously asks.

“It doesn’t matter, I’m not sexist,” Seungcheol reiterates, dismissing Hansol’s question with a wave of his hand, making his son pout sadly at not being answered and catching your attention, which in turn, makes Seungcheol look at his son seeing your gaze focused on the boy, and the man notices Hansol’s frown. “Oh, Solie, I didn’t mean to upset you, it’s just not something a six-year-old needs to worry about.”

“I think if he asks, he’s curious enough to deserve an answer,” you point out. “Wouldn’t it be better to give him the knowledge earlier, so he grows up with it, than risk it not settling properly in his mind and being easy to pull apart when he’s older?”

“Oh, I really like her,” the same whispered voice as last time declares.

Seungcheol sighs then shuffles to face Hansol better. “Okay, Pearl’s right, I should give you an actual answer when you ask about things like this. Sexism is when someone thinks their sex or gender is above another. Like, for example, some idiot men think women belong in the kitchen and have no use other than staying at home to raise kids and look after the house. That’s men being sexist towards women.”

“Oh, like you only giving Pearl a cleaning job,” Hansol says, making Seungcheol wince, while some of the men start to snicker. “That’s really bad, daddy, give her a better job.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being a cleaner, all jobs have worth. If nobody cleans, things will be dirty so it’s a perfectly valid job, Hansol.”

“But you’re being sexist so that makes it bad, right?”

“Okay, it would be if that was what I was doing, but I only said cleaner because I have no idea what Pearl’s skills are, and you don’t need qualifications or past job experience to clean.”

“Then ask her. If you don’t know what she’s good at, ask her,” Hansol reasons logically.

“How does it feel when a six-year-old has more logic and common sense than you, Coupsie?” The man at the other end of the table asks with an amused grin, earning an unimpressed expression from Seungcheol as he straightens up and turns towards you.

Seungcheol looks at you with an apologetic expression. “I’m sorry for not asking you, that wasn’t right. We’ll have an interview when I’m back later and discuss what your place here will be, does that sound okay to you, Pearl?”

“Yeah, sounds good,” you agree simply. He relaxes a little before motioning for everyone to get back to their food, and the conversation is dropped there.

Just as he had said, after breakfast, Hansol enthusiastically leads you and Chan outside once you’re all three of you are in your shoes and coats, to go to the play area that would put a public child’s play park to shame.

There’s a large climbing frame, multiple types of swings, slides of varying heights and styles, trampolines imbedded in the rubber tarmac, spinning seats and roundabouts, seesaws and a huge racetrack painted onto the ground and weaving through all the various apparatus. Plus, there’s even a shelter with go carts, bikes, wagons, and even more toys.

And that’s just this section of the garden. A little further away you can see a large, covered section of ground, which you’d assume is an in-ground pool if there were any sign of ladders or tiles around it instead of more rubber tarmac. You have no idea what it is, but you know it’s another activity for Hansol.

It really is clear that Seungcheol will go above and beyond for the sake of his son.

“What shall we play first, Squirt?” Hansol asks, turning to look at Chan, who is entirely focused on the strange sensation of slightly springy ground under him as he bounces on his toes curiously. “It’s cool, right?! It’s just like in real play parks! Uncle Jihoon says it’s safety playground flooring; it’s got rubber in it so when we fall it isn’t as hard as normal ground and won’t hurt so much or break us as easily.”

Of course, Chan doesn’t respond in any way and honestly, you’re not even sure he’s heard a word that Hansol has said to him, you don’t know if Chan even realises that he’s being spoken to despite the older boy using the nickname so smoothly it’s like he’s always used it.

“Do you like bouncing?” Hansol asks, having no issue with the lack of response and instead rushes over to the trampolines to jump onto. “Look! Look, Squirt! We can touch the clouds!”

“Hey,” you say as you crouch down so you can get Chan’s attention. He glances at you, then looks up when he sees you looking directly at him, signalling that you want his attention. “Hansol wants to play with you, don’t you think that’d be fun? You can make a friend.” You motion over to where Hansol is still happily bouncing away, causing Chan to look over. He pulls an uncertain face. “Want to try?” You offer your hand and to your joy, Chan takes it, silently agreeing to give the trampoline a go. It’s a huge step in Chan making his first friend.

Together, you walk over to the trampolines and Hansol lights up noticing you nearing. He bounces closer and offers his hand to Chan. “I’ll bounce with you, it’s really fun, Squirt!”

“It’s okay, I’m right here,” you assure your brother and gently remove your hand from his. He looks at you with rounded eyes of hesitation, yet when you smile and nod reassuringly, he turns and tentatively takes Hansol’s hand.

Your heart swells with joy seeing Chan accept the older boy enough to timidly follow him onto the trampoline, even if he makes slightly distressed sounds as the material bends under his weight.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, Squirt,” Hansol soothes in a gentle tone and holds both of Chan’s hands securely so they’re facing one another, though Chan is staring alarmed down at the ground bending beneath their feet. “It’s a trampoline, it’s made to bounce. We can do it gently.”

So, so, so carefully, Hansol starts to bounce. His feet don’t even leave the trampoline and he’s more just bending his legs a little and using the movement to bob them slightly. Chan’s distressed sounds grow, but Hansol makes more soothing noises and holds his hands tighter. He keeps talking to Chan, telling him that it’s okay and “Solie is here, Squirt” and slowly, Chan calms until he’s just making little squeaky types of sounds every handful of seconds.

Once his noises stop being fearful and turn curious, Hansol encourages Chan to try bouncing too. With Hansol’s gentle support, Chan does start to bounce and the utter joy that lights up his face when he lifts his head to look at you with sparkling eyes makes you feel like you could break at any second. You didn’t know he could look so happy with someone else.

Right here, you decide that no matter what Seungcheol asks you to do, you’ll do it. So long as Chan gets to remain here looking so genuinely happy like this, you’ll do anything.

For the first time in months, Chan isn’t right by your side. He’s not far and you can hear Hansol’s voice from the playroom opposite, along with Seungkwan’s, who you have learned is Hansol’s nanny, even if Hansol is often not with the man as the child is both very self-sufficient but also very sneaky at escaping Seungkwan to go play with other people when he gets bored.

It’s probably half of the reason Seungcheol’s home office is right opposite Hansol’s playroom, so Seungcheol can be near if his son wants him when he gets fed up with his nanny.

“Hansol’s always wanted a little brother,” Seungcheol randomly states when you’re both sitting on the leather seating to one side of his office. He’s slouched on the loveseat and you’re sitting in the armchair with a view of the open door, even if you can’t see through to the open door of the playroom. This at least makes you feel better as you’re not turning your back on Chan.

You look at Seungcheol with a slightly raised, questioning eyebrow at his words.

“Just, he’s good with your brother, right?” You nod in confirmation because for all the energy Hansol has in his slight body, he’s so gentle with Chan, so caring, and you can entirely understand what Seungcheol is saying. Hansol is treating Chan like the little brother he’s always wanted. “He’s asked for a little brother for the past two Christmases.” He chuckles and forces himself to sit upright and lean over to pour himself a glass of water from the carafe on the low table in the centre of the seating.

You remain quiet and look back at the door to listen to Hansol’s and Seungkwan’s voices as they play. You can’t hear Chan, and you’re not surprised about it, but it does make you worry that you can’t tell if he’s enjoying the games when he’s so used to either playing alone or with you, even if you’re never as imaginative as either Hansol or Seungkwan.

“You don’t have to worry, Seungkwan knows first aid if they do get hurt,” Seungcheol promises.

“I’m not worried about injury, I’m worried that my brother will suffer in silence, unable to speak up for himself and without me there to talk for him.”

“I don’t mean to overstep or sound like a dick, but have you considered that that doesn’t help?” You look at him with furrowed brows. Seungcheol immediately holds up his hands in defence. “I’m just saying that if you always talk for him, he’s not going to learn to talk for himself.”

“While I agree that can be the case in many circumstances, this is not it. My brother is capable of talking when he feels safe and comfortable with a person, and I’m the only person he has. Even before his diagnosis he didn’t speak to most people because he had delayed speech, and the assholes never gave him the time and understanding to get out what he needed. He’s improved a lot more with just me to talk to these past months than beforehand. So no, I am not making a problem here.”

“Okay,” Seungcheol accepts obligingly. “I believe you, and I apologise for implying that you’re holding him back. Some people just don’t realise they are. They think they’re helping but they’re not. We’ve gotta let our kids figure shit out for themselves sometimes.”

“I know, but some kids and people just aren’t capable of figuring certain things out for themselves, so we have to help them lest they suffer in silence their entire lives.”

“Yeah, I think we know that very well. Raising a kid with disabilities is hard, but I’d never change him.”

“No, I wouldn’t either.”

The two of you share a moment of pure understanding that only breaks when you smile slightly and Seungcheol suddenly looks away while clearing his throat before swallowing down the rest of his water with flushed cheeks.

You can’t help but wonder if he’s ill to suddenly get visibly hot like that. You hope that if he is ill, it’s not contagious; you don’t think you can handle even a common cold right now with the poor condition of your body.

“So,” he says as he puts his glass down on the table perhaps a little too quickly, judging by the loud thunk it makes, which makes him wince. He takes a second to steady the glass then leans back and lays one arm on the back of the couch while he looks at you with even pinker cheeks.

“Are you ill?” You blurt.

“What?” He frowns at you bewilderedly. “No, why? Do I look like shit?” He puts his free hand to his cheek worriedly.

“You’re pink.”

“Oh,” he laughs awkwardly and abruptly gets up to cross the room and open the window. “J-just hot!”

“It’s winter.”

“I’ve just got back from a physically strenuous job,” he explains, and turns so his back is to the open window and his ass is leaning against the windowsill. “Talking of jobs, let’s decide what you can do for me. To work for me, I mean.”

“I don’t know what else that could mean other than work,” you point out and he lets out another strange, awkward laugh. “Are you high?”

“No,” he frowns suddenly, expression abruptly changing. “I don’t do drugs.”

“It would explain your odd behaviour. Either you’re ill, or high.”

“Neither! I’m fine, I’m fine,” he waves his hands dismissively before crossing his arms to tuck his hands under his biceps against his ribs. “So, have you had a job before? I assume so based on the fact you’ve only been homeless for the past months since running away, right? You had a house before then?”

“Family home.”

“Ah, so you didn’t pay rent and stuff.”

“No, I paid rent, it just wasn’t my house.”

“Wait, your parents made you pay rent to live in the family home?” He baulks in disgust.

“Father, my mother died years ago. And my stepmother; my brother’s mother if you want to get specific.”

“Oh, you’re half siblings? I assumed full, you seem very close.”

“As I said, I’m the only person who’s bothered to give him understanding.”

“He’s lucky to have you.”

“Like Hansol is lucky to have you.”

“In some ways, but others, not so much.” He motions around vaguely. “You obviously know what I do, what he’s surrounded by even if he doesn’t realise it yet. At least, I hope he doesn’t; I’m trying to shield him from all that fucked up shit, but I know it’s impossible considering his babysitters are often armed.”

“Is Seungkwan?”

“No, no, he can barely fire a gun. He was just a down-on-his-luck college kid, Hansol befriended him one day and then asked me to make Kwan his babysitter so he could buy new shoes.” He huffs a little laugh. “I have no idea how I raised a kid like that, but I’m glad.”

“It’s probably a lot that’s just him, his soul, if you believe in that.”

“Mm, yeah, probably. Anyway, back to you, you worked?” You nod. “What did you do?”

“Uhm, it’s kind of hard to pinpoint, I did a lot of stuff.” You bite your lip nervously and glance over at the open door before getting up to approach Seungcheol, who shuffles to straighten up. You stop out of arm's reach and lace your fingers together in front of you while staring at his shoulder to not make eye contact. “There is something you should know, and you won’t like it, but you know why I left, and I will always put my brother over anything.”

“What is it?” He asks, voice a little firm, no-nonsense, having sensed that this is serious.

“Who our father is. Who I worked for.”

“You’re a fucking gangster too, aren’t you?” He groans and puts his face in his hands. “I swear if you’re from one of those fucking pissy little gangs always causing me grief, I’m going to be pissed and you’re out on your ass; I’ll keep your brother, and I promise he’ll always be safe with me, but you’re out.”

“I wouldn’t say a pissy little gang,” you reply and glance up at him to see him peering at you in wait over the top of his fingers. “Vultures.”

In the blink of an eye, Seungcheol is directly in front of you and holding your jaw to make you look in his burning gaze. “Say that again, sweetheart. Who did you just say you’re associated with?”

“I left.”

“You’re his fucking child.”

“Did you know he has a child?”

Seungcheol’s anger ebbs a little as he considers your words. “No,” he admits in murmured realisation and slowly loosens his grasp before his fingers slip away from your skin and he takes a half step back. “Why didn’t I know about you? You’re not a kid, you’re what, late twenties?”

“Thirty.”

“Oh, we’re the same age,” he comments and eyes you carefully before stepping back again and crossing his arms over his chest. “I would’ve heard if The Vulture has a fucking thirty-year-old daughter.”

“Not if he never wanted anyone to know.”

“Hiding his golden child to keep her safe, that what you’re going for?”

“No, the opposite. He hid me for my protection when I was little, like I assume you’re doing with Hansol, but then it turned to shame and only the immediate circle knows I’m his daughter, everyone else thinks I’m just another member.”

“Why shame?”

“Is it relevant?”

“Maybe. What did you do?”

“Just exist.”

“Is he sexist?”

You huff a laugh at the reminder of the conversation from breakfast. Seungcheol’s lips twitch up into the start of a smile. “Yes, actually, but that’s not it.”

“Then what?”

You consider your options now; you could lie, but that never sits right with you, you could tell him it’s none of his business and hope he simply accepts that, but you’re not positive he will, not when the safety of his family and integrity of his centuries old gang is on the line.

Which leaves you with telling the truth and hoping that his heart doesn’t bend only for children. “I took my brother away because I know how cruel our father can get; I know what the next steps would be to try and ‘fix’ him because he did the same to me when I was a child.”

“Oh,” Seungcheol murmurs. “You’re autistic too?”

“He blamed my mother, turns out that asshole is the common denominator.”

“I see.” He moves to close the window then leans against the windowsill again as he looks at you thoughtfully. “I won’t lie, this has thrown me a little. I don’t know how to deal with autistic adults, just Hansol.”

“You don’t have to deal with me,” you scoff.

“No, no, I didn’t mean it like that, I just mean like, what accommodations and stuff to make. How to support you and everything. We’ll have to have a real sit down and talk it out when I have time, and I’ll do research too because obviously I only looked up how autism affects little boys, not women.”

“Research?” He nods. “You don’t have to do that, I’ve had my whole life to figure out how to handle this myself, I don’t need accommodations.”

“Pearl,” he says firmly. “You were raised in a home I can’t believe you ever felt wanted or loved in, based on what you’ve said and what I know of how The Vulture and his gang works. I’m amazed you turned out so understanding and gentle, honestly. But the point is, that environment is not the place someone with autism or other things like that can learn to be true to themself. But that’s going to change, okay? You can be yourself here, you’re safe and no-one will be cruel to you for stimming or needing a break or whatever else you may need, okay?”

It sounds far too good to be true; you’ve never heard those words before, never had anyone tell you that you can just be you without risking getting hit with whatever is to hand. Honestly, at this point, you don’t even know if you know how to be yourself, you’ve been masking for so long.

Instead of trying to put all your thoughts into words you know won’t come out correctly with how jumbled your mind is, you just stare at Seungcheol.

“Alright, let’s circle back to that another day and for now, tell me what you did as a Vulture.”

“Various things.”

“Like what? Finances, tech, streets, driving, meetings, what?” You nod. “What?”

“All of it. I did something in all of it depending on what was needed of me.”

“You didn’t have a speciality?”

“Well…I was often bait, if that’s what you mean.”

“Bait?” He mutters, expression tightening. “What does that mean, Pearl?”

“There weren’t many women other than the whores and dad didn’t trust them to not betray him, so he’d send me to get attention of the men they wanted and take them to a secondary location.”

“Your father used you as sex bait?”

“I guess you could call it that.”

“I knew he was fucked up but that’s something else,” he hisses and glares at nothing in particular. “How much do you know about how he works, how the gang is run?”

“Everything.” Seungcheol’s head snaps up to look at you with wide eyes. “I guess when you abuse someone and they still stay, you assume they’re loyal, or at least too scared to be a threat.”

“Are you loyal?”

“No.”

“Are you too scared to be a threat?”

“Never.”

Seungcheol’s mouth turns up into a smirk. “Then I know exactly what your job is, sweetheart; you’re going to help me tear apart the Vultures and dance on their graves.”

“I don’t know how to dance.”

Seungcheol chokes on a laugh. “It’s not literal, it’s a saying.”

“Oh. Why is that a saying? Why would you dance on someone’s grave?”

“Because you’re happy that they’re dead, a celebration.”

“Oh…I guess I should learn to dance.”

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